Ortu seems anything but mollified, muttering expletives under his breath as the Frenchman and the Spaniard set off across the wheat field for the truck. “A bad business, this,” Sánchez says as they walk. “The farmer?” he asks. On hearing the answer he frowns.
As the legionnaires reach the truck, Sánchez looks over Normand again. “You need to take care of yourself,” he says. “We can help each other, but you must stay healthy.” He pulls back a flap of canvas. “It’s the legionnaires, Jean. How are you?”
The gendarme’s voice sounds hollow from the back of the truck. “I’m all right. What happened? I heard grenades.” Sánchez gives the wounded policeman a quick summary as Normand climbs in the passenger seat. Finally the Spanish legionnaire settles in behind the wheel, starts the truck, and backs along the road to the curve to the north. “We can’t move those other vehicles until the gendarmerie arrive,” he explains. “We’ll have to cut across this field.” He snaps on the headlights to cut through the gloom. “Keep an eye out for me, will you? Make sure I’m not driving into a ditch or something?” Normand: DC 10 Drive check to aid Sánchez, please.
“I’ll manage,” Vidal replies. Nedjar shakes his head. “Take the prisoner over to the barn and find the doc,” the Algerian says. “We’ll take care of the stables.” He looks at the rifle and the shotgun leaning against the wall. “Take those, too, and give them to Ortu.”
Nedjar turns his attention back to Pyotr. “It’s going to be pretty dark in there. Ortu is covering the west door with the machine gun – we’ll go in through the east. Vidal, let Silvio know what we’re doing. Any questions?”
Vidal appears about to object, then reconsiders and reaches for the prisoner instead, dragging him roughly to his feet. “Let’s go,” he says. “Not a sound or you’re dead.” The Arab shakes his head mutely. The two cross the yard at a jog. As they reach the barn they see Ortu ensconced behind a couple of crates just inside the doorway. Before Vidal can speak, he hears a crackling sound from his radio. “...ngo 31, repor...” Vidal: Knowledge (technology) check to improve the signal.
Pyotr and Nedjar watch as Vidal shuffles the prisoner across the farmyard, their submachine guns pointed toward the stables. “We’ll go to the southwest corner of the stable, then see if we can find our way in. You want to go first?” he asks Pyotr.
