Tanya Adams

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ukraine, Europe, January 17th, 1962.

Classified Location near the Polish border.

Local time 21:35h.

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Annabelle does as ordered. Even so, the ensuing blast of light makes her eyes water.

"Very handy," Annabelle says with a grin. "Now we just have to get our 'friends' loaded, yes?" she asks Tanya.

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Bonzo does the same, and instinctively closes his eyes at the excessively bright flash.

"What the..." Pause. "What did you just do?"

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"I'll explain later..." Too many ears around for them to leave clues. "Open the back doors, they should not be locked, lets load our prisoners and then make our own exit."

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Annabelle nods and moves to open the doors. Anyone who looks reluctant will get a more physical encouragement to cooperate in the form of a shove.

"Let's get out of here," she adds when the prisoners are loaded.

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Bonzo gestures lightly with the lightsaber. We'll assume that gets the hint across. After what happened to the other guy who tried to use it, it's doubtful anybody wants a swat on the rear from the blade.

"Yeah. I don't think I want to be around when the guys in charge find out something's broken here."

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Tanya locks the doors and takes her companions back to the emergency access they used to get in. Behind them, there is another very bright flash of light, but this time they can actually cover their eyes. "Answering your question, Bonzo... The Chronosphere. An invention from Professor Einstein, it can teleport vehicles or people inside vehicles anywhere on Earth... if we have a clear 'view' of the arrival spot, using satellites, line of sight... or a beacon of some sort."

"Right now the gadget I gave our pixie friend is transmitting the location of all the secondary command bunkers in eastern Europe back to the Allied high command in London. High-speed bombers are taking off to destroy silos with special bombs, and the Chronosphere is delivering EMP charges to the control centers."

"In about one hour Romanov's missiles will be good for scrap metal only."

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Annabelle grins. "Now that sounds like a good day's work. I'd love to see the look on his face when Romanov gets that bit of news."

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Bonzo laughs at that. "So would I." Pause. "Didn't know Einstein invented that..."

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"At least here, he did. The Chronosphere saved us in the Second War, it allowed us to move faster than the Reds, set up ambushes, advanced bases, outposts..."

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"Confusing, isn't it?" Annabelle says with a chuckle. "Different worlds, different events," she adds with a shake of her head.

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"Tell me about it." Pause. "Then again, this is nothing compared to how strange the world Weasel's from is."

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"And now that you said it, tomorrow you will meet someone from an even stranger world..."

"So, if you two want to take any souvenirs, now it is the time."

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"It's wisest not to tempt fate," Annabelle replies with a grin.

"No, I think I'm good," Annabelle says after a moment's thought. "I'm running out of shelf space as it is."

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Bonzo laughs. "Point taken."

As to the souvenir suggestion... "Not sure what I'd take." A picture, perhaps?

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"A furry hat? An officer's sidearm? Up to you, really." She releases the locks, opening the inner door into the sloping passage.

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Annabelle stretches and moves toward the sloping passage. "That was an interesting party," Annabelle quips. "I hope you'll invite me to your next shindig?" she asks Tanya, teasing.

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Bonzo opts for a sidearm that he finds laying on the ground. Truth be told, it's not like anyone's going to miss it from here in an hour.

He'll deal with any fallout from snagging it back in the Bar when that comes to pass.

"Yeah, don't leave me out, either. Just make sure she brings her stuff along..." That would be the stimpaks.

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"Of course..." Tanya grins. "Now, heads up, it is a long walk back to our door and there might be patrols around still.

Poor, poor patrols.

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