The road ahead seems clear for the most part and as it gets later and you are sure no one is following you, it appears it would be safe to head back to the Red Crescent camp. On approach, it appears that security has been stepped up since you were gone, as a group of FFL troops are standing guard at the main gate. Smith recognizes one as the one he had been talking to before he left, Louis.
Smith jumps out of the truck and says in broken French like an old African merc would "Bonjour, mon amis. Anything new? We seemed to have lost our "patron" in the bush." making a quick joke at the lost of Ward.
Louis gives Smith a quick friendly salute and walks over. "Plus ca change, plus n'est change pas.", he says, translating for others, "Same old, same old." He shakes his head. "We finally got things settled down here after you and your friends left. Some Russian captain came asking around though. You'll have to talk to Dr. Aluma yn Sudal. He spoke to her for a couple hours like and then left in a hurry. She didn't seem none too pleased with the exchange, if you know what I mean." He pauses for a moment. "Sorry 'bout your friend though. Seemed a right okay guy, if a little out of his element."
Natalie takes a moment to stretch after exiting the truck. Of course, here she was still Cynthia Betterman, Red Cross liason. However given everything that had happened recently, it would take an idiot to not connect those dots.
She takes a bit of time to return to hobnob with the teams in the area, in hopes of finding out any worthwhile intel.
Investigation
As Smith speaks with Louis, Cynthia makes her rounds after her scout team disperses. Though friendly, most of the people here are busy with their work to carry on much of conversation with her, other than repeating what the guard told Smith.
There is one person who takes a keen notice of her though and is more than willing to speak with her in any capacity. The American man leans back in his chair, tilting his sunglasses to his head. "Jeff Major, World News Now. Have a hard time believing the Red Cross liaison bit, but I'll bite. Cynthia wasn't it?", he smiles, moving the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other.
Smith nods and then says, "When the patron is gone then the checks stop coming. Luckily, I was paid half up front. Is there a radio or telegraph in camp. What can you tell me about this Russian Captain and where can I find this doctor?"
As he pours the legionnaire some whisky.
Macomb hangs back from Smith and the legionnaire a bit and lights a cigarette. It's been too long since he had a smoke and a drink. The smell and sight of Smith's whisky reminds Johnny how long its been since he last had a drop.
Bonjour Ami. Hell of a bumpy road out there, name's Macomb. I was the aforementioned patron's driver. Unlike me friend here I was supposed to get paid when we got back. He offers a cigarette to Smith and the legionnaire.
Cynthia managed a chagrinned smile, "It was." She maintains that 'in over her head' posture that dictates a bit of low confidence as she holds her arms close, then sits not too far away. "And yeah...I never expected it to be like this." She manages a meek shrug, "What's the big story, Major?"
Louis takes the proffered cigarette and light, taking a long puff. After closing his eyes and enjoying the moment, he shares a swig of the whiskey as well. "You folks ought a stick around. You sure know how to treat a soldier right." He nods to Macomb. "If you're a friend of Smith here, we're all friends, n'est pas?" He pauses for a moment, thinking. "Orsov or some such. He comes around every so often, like I said. Talks with the doc and then leaves. This time it seems they had a disagreement. Look, you know as well as I do, this isn't some straight up affair. This is a live action zone and yet here we are. My guess is those two got an agreement going. I can see what she's getting out of it, but him, other than the obvious," he makes and obscene gesture with his hands, "it must be something big. Especially since they let us in here. You'll find the good doctor in her tent most times, it passes as her office and sometimes a surgery facility as necessary. I'll take you there soon as my shift is done."
The reporter smiles, somewhat charming, but also predatory at the same time. It would be almost creepy if not for his open manner. "Well, I can't call you Beautiful all day, people might think your parents thought as highly of your genes as I do." He looks you over. "It's Jeff. Or a**hole if you want to be like my boss, but I think I prefer Jeff. For now." He stands and pulls out a fold up chair and opens it for you, gesturing that you should take a seat.
"Picture it.. 'Red Crescent makes friends with Soviet Invaders', or as my political minded friends would say, 'Supposedly unbiased relief crew allies with world bullies'. When have you ever heard of Red Crescent being allowed inside an active war zone? I know for a fact your Red Cross sure as Hell isn't. Adjacent to one, maybe, but right inside? Lashkar Gah is under siege and only a few miles away, here we are. According to the people here, everyone thinks this is status quo. My guess is over half these people are just new volunteers and the rest don't care or their own agenda coincides with what is really going on. Tell me, you feel it don't you? The story, I mean.."
Cynthia takes the proffered seat graciously, looking as if she'd spent the day in constant motion, playing the wounded gazelle gambit to his predatory gaze. "It *is* weird." she admits, "But this isn't the first time war has come to the door of an aid camp, of course. There are always those that seek to press an advantage...the Geneva Convention be damned, and then there are those who choose to use us as a shield, in hopes of stalling. I just got here myself, and immediately got tasked to keeping people in line. What I was *supposed* to do was to find secondhand ways to be able to provide relief to the Crescent without it becoming...." She trails off, her hands clasped together. It was a double bluff, that lie. Of course, Cynthia's real reason for being here was to pad her career, to get promoted up the ranks, and out of the regional position, but she had almost let slip the bit of underhanded news. Bait for the reporter...
Cynthia manages a second abashed smile, shifting her posture. "I think either the sides here know something we don't, or the Crescent does..."
Impress to charm
BLUFF
Smith smiles and says, "Mon amis, could you make introduction to the Doc for us? Both of us now need jobs and although the pretty lady we came in is nice, she doesn't have the green to keep us paid."
Jeff smiles, watching you as you take a seat. It takes him a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. "See? That's where you come in. You're new here and frankly, so am I. This press pass only gets me so far. You seem to know a few ways around the place. I was thinking maybe we could share some information, kind of a 'show me yours I'll show you mine' thing. I've been watching these guys since I got here and that Russian officer showing up with the doctor seems to seal the deal on a few theories I have. Problem is, without any proof, I have no story. Just hearsay and rumors. While I could easily embellish it, the ramifications of that could be, well, catastrophic for all involved. This is a warzone after all."
Louis nods. "Don't know her that personal like, but sure."
That night, Louis comes to find the both of you and leads you both towards Dr. Sudal's tent. As you approach, you hear her talking, as if to herself. "...subject is coherent, but shows no signs of verbal communication ability. Ambulation is sluggish, but shows definite high-function thought.."
"Ahem.. Dr. Sudal? It's Louis with the Legion. Got a couple of friends from out of country that would like to speak with you."
"Sh*t! Be right there! Dammit.." You hear some activity and something dropping to the ground before she comes to the tent flap that opens to reveal her. She looks to be of Saudi decent, her dark black hair tied in a pony tail. Her lab coat and ID tag identify her as Dr. Aluma yn Sudal, Red Crescent. "Come inside," she says, barely looking at either of you. "Find a seat where you can. Coffee?"
Smith sits down and says, "Hamasalamallakim," then waits for the customary response from her and then continues, "I am most impressed by your operation here in Afghanistan. What I would have killed for this kind of luxury in Salisbury during my country's insurgency. Anyway, my American colleague here, Macomb, and I are look for a job and mebe we can help you"
Cultures/Communicate
Notice/Awareness Looking around but not looking like I am looking around.
"Wa alaikum assalaam," she says before getting a couple of cups of kaffiya for the both of you. "Luxury? I'm glad you approve soldier, but this is no luxury here. Most of this is begged, borrowed or, well honestly, borrowed without asking. I had thought you had a job with that other American fellow.. Chandler, I think it was. At least that was the rumor I heard. As for a helping me, I have this platoon of French Legionnaires protecting me. What do you have to offer that they can't provide?"
Smith looks up in the air real quick and says, "Inshallah, madame doctor, inshallah, our patron got slotted, sorry, I guess I should speak the queen's English, although Ian Smith is the president of Rhodesia, at least for the time being, not the bag in London. Anyway, our patron got slotted by a Russian bouncing betty mine. He was dead in seconds. Allah punishes the fools. I am an excellent tracker and marksman and I am able to speak some Farsi and my Russian is top rate. I can serve as a liasion if you so wish, my comrade is an excellent driver and as a team we are can get you into trouble faster than you can get out of it."
Dr. Sudal nods. "Understandable. Your resume is impressive, I will give you that. I tell you what. I do have a little something you and your unusually quiet friend can do for me." She pauses, hand to her chin. "There is a Soviet officer that is a friend of mine. The recent circumstances have made that friendship strenuous at best. Our dealings in the past have been amicable until recently. Something is going on with him and I am afraid it may jeopardize my very precarious position here. Find out what is going on and I will pay you. Do it without incident and I may have more lucrative things for you to do. Deal?"
Smith says, "Delightful, would you happen to know where I can find this man and what he looks like. As I said, my friend and I are more than up to the task."
He then pulls out his map and a grease pencil to mark the location on.
Smith then says, "How and when did the relationship start to sour?"
As she writes on the map, she sighs. "Once the actual invasion started. We knew something was going on long before all this, but I never thought they would actually cross the border. Neither did he. Then he got orders. His entire division was mobilized. At first, we kept up communication as we could, helping me to get this camp setup, he even talked to some of his friends in the Legion to get a unit sent out here to keep us safe from rebels. He would come to visit sometimes, but that's been few and far between. Lately, it's gotten worse. He only comes to make sure the camp is still running smoothly and...", she pauses here. "Well, you know. Even that's been.. distant." She looks at you. "I know it's really not your concern, considering, but it's important to me and if I'm going to help you, well, I'm sure you know the drill. I want to think it's the war and I know he can't say much, due to his position, but if you could find out something, anything, I would be very much in your debt."
Madame you can count on us. We will discretely determine what is going on here behind everyone's back and report back to you what we find. Johnny pauses and nods his head towards Smith. My friend failed to mention that I know several languages as well including Pashto and Russian. But we must insist on knowing what our man looks like so we can identify him accurately.
"That's easy enough," she says, holding out a picture. "It's not recent, but it's Vasily. I'd like it back."
Cynthia looks rather apprehensive about the whole thing. "I...don't know. I mean, honestly I didn't expect it to be like this, I figured it'd just be this whole 'in and out' thing that'd pad my resume so I could maybe get the opening for Regional Coordinator for the Cross that'll be coming up next year."
She adds, "I guess...I mean, I could ask around, but I'm not certain what good that'll do. I don't even know where to start."
Natalie made a mental note that she had to learn more about doing her own legwork in the future, but until then, having a contact that knew the situation would be a great place to start.
"At the beginning of course. I've gotten what I can out of that Dr. Sudal, but if you can find out just what her relationship is with Captain Vasily Orsov, 10th Soviet Guards is, well, then we're on the right track." Jeff holds out a document. "It's what I have so far, and hey...", he looks at you. "Don't get yourself killed. You're too pretty to die out here."
Cynthia, looking unsure of herself, takes the document apprehensively. "Yeah...okay..." Very much acting as if she wasn't really sure why she was doing this...letting herself get manipulated with flattery even, she starts to depart, then gives Jeff a look back. She studies the document after she leaves his sight.
Smith smiles and says, "Inshalla, madame, we will try to help the best we can."
The document is basically a rough draft of a story that seems to implicate that the unbiased nature of the Red Crescent is being threatened by the overt attempts at friendship towards them from the Soviet regime and that now that this has become an actual invasion rather than a proxy war, it is even more so.
Natalie ponders the ramifications of this situation for several moments.
Bureacracy
Governments, especially those of tyrannical means, attempt to win the hearts and minds of the people they are invading so that they waste less resources on subjugating them. In this case, by getting the Red Crescent to basically 'help' during the invasion, the Soviets are showing that the people want them to come in and take over.
Razor studies the picture of the Russian for a good whole imprinting the facial features in his mind. Did you need it back now or can we hold onto it for a day? He then passes the photo to Smith to look over.
Smith looks the picture over.
Then says, "This is very strange, madame doctor. The Soviets are antitheists. But we do as you bid, inshallah."
The doctor smiles at the both of you. "As I said, it's yours, just bring it back." With that, she goes back to whatever she was working on earlier, seeming to find order in her chaos.
Natalie broods over the information, as she smokes another cigarette. She looks for a chance to regroup with the others in a discreet spot in camp.
Thank you. We were return it once we have news. Smith let's go and leave the doctor with her thoughts.
Johnny puts the picture in a chest pocket respectfully and exits the tent. Now to meet up with Natalie and see if she found out anything.
When a bit more alone, Natalie slouches a bit, still nursing her cig. "Well I found out the why of this whole clusterstrophe I think. Its a power play by the soviets...Sovies, as Smith says." She manages a hint of a smirk. "They're putting forth the image that that they've got the backing of the aid workers, so this makes them the 'good guys'. Its not really pointing us at the...quarry, but I imagine its related. I was going to go talk to the aid camp higher-ups, and learn why nobody has moved out yet...figure out what leverage they have. Heck, I just figured it was a hostage move, but could be more."
Smith notices the smirk and says, "Good I'm rubbing off on ya a bit. Macs and I just talked with the biggsie, what bees in charge. The Afghans itn't idjits neither."
He then whips out the photograph and says, "This guy must be the key to the whole thing. If not, we'll get to slot some mer commies though."
"What's his story?" Natalie looks over the picture.
Other than being the biggsie Boo that's up to us to find out. Razor looks at Smith. Show her the map too.
Smith unfolds the map and shows his comrades.
"That is our next port of call."
Natalie looks puzzled, "This might be this Captain Orsov I was told about. He's got something to do with the aid station...yeah, I suppose it all comes together, doesn't it?"
Was that Captain Vasily Orsov? The doctor referred to him by the first name only Razor explains.
Smith nods in agreement. "I am pretty sure Wassily is his name, I saw that name in the documents from the cave."
"Dr. Sudel, whom I believe I ran across before, is either in charge of this camp or close to it. If this is Orsov, she can ID him. The reporter I came across said he was part of the 10th Soviet Guard. Any chance you can make out the particulars from his uniform?"
Smith smiles and says, "I shouldn't have any troubles picking out the correct soviet uniform. Macomb and I have a photograph of him as well."
Notice
"We'll be braain' up some commie officer for dinner."
Natalie returns to the mess that is the aide camp, looking for whomever is in charge of it. As her cover of Cynthia Betterman, she will seek out the chain of command, using the ruse of the fact that Mr. Chandler had gotten lost out in the bush.
It's obvious that Cynthia is panicking a little bit, and only someone with some actual authority here could do her worries justice.
Bluff
Cynthia works her way through the camp, attempting to find someone that can actually do something for her. While she isn't able to see the head of the entire camp, the commander of the security force, one Captain Jean-Pierre Malfort, is more than happy to assist her.
"My dear woman, you look so afright. My men not treating you right around the camp? They say you have lost someone out in the wilds. A bad situation, no? If the rebels find him, he is dead. If the DPRA find him, also dead. The Russians? Well, I think you know the answer. So what would you like me to do for your dead man?"
Cynthia looks gravely at the Captain. "He can't be dead. My job depends on him." She says sadly, "I was supposed to be enticing him to help arrange for some assistance in the area...promote some cross-organization synergy." She scoffs at the idea, a bit embittered. "I don't know...Its rather scary here, so close to such dangerous people." She manages a meek smile, adding "But its nice to know some people care."
Impress/Charm
She continues, "I just don't understand any of this, like why we're so close to these 'operations', any one of us could be shot at any moment the way it sounds!"
She'll let that hang in the air, then hopefully move on to learn more about this Dr Sudal...
The French Legionnaire nods. "Yes, well, it's a not-so-secret secret around here that Dr. Sudal has an in with the local Russian forces. If not for her and her..friend.. we'd all be dead. Lashgar is not a friendly place unless you are Russian or DPRA and even then, the rebels are out there somewhere."