Operation: Fallout

[alertcommando]

It's winter again in Europe: a blanket of snow covers the woods outside the chalet where Tanya and Annabelle arrive.

A pile of equipment is waiting for them.

Comments

[alertcommando]

Oh, they are a small part of a large battle, but a very active part: with their cover and strike, they keep the Mirage Tanks from being discovered long enough.

The fight drags on along the day, and by nightfall the Red Army retreats to their temporary bases as Allied forces arrive and consolidate the occupation and defense of the area.

For the third time, General Vladimir is soundly defeated.

Tanya and Anabelle can finally stop to rest with a mixed group of army and militia, camped near the wreckage of an Apocalypse tank.

[aeons_crackshot]

Rest is good, very good. She's grimy, tired and sore, but otherwise unharmed.

Annabelle pokes the Tank wreckage with one toe, experimentally. She gives Tanya a weary grin. "How're you holding up, champ?"

[alertcommando]

Tank wreckages are good for breaking the cold winds from a winter night. "A bit tired. But I did this in other times for eleven days nonstop." Really, eleven hours of combat are nothing.

A soldier comes over with warmed field rations, offering them to the two women. It is not good food, but it is, well, warm.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle thanks the soldier for the rations. She's eaten worse than anything the military is likely to cook up.

"Eleven days nonstop, eh? Trying to make me look like a wimp?" she teases.

[alertcommando]

Tanya laughs and shakes head. "Eleven days of blood and mud and soot and running around. Sleeping on average four hours out of each 24." She takes a spoonful of the meal, a broth with some meatlike granules, cooked dried vegetables and noddles.

Okay, how long until Annabelle notices she's being watched by the guys?

Watched, in a good 'that-way'.

[aeons_crackshot]

Probably quite some time. Annabelle was never the quickest at picking up on that sort of thing.

"Yet more proof that the good old days never existed," Annabelle jokes.

The MRE is not toxic or actively trying to escape, so Annabelle has no qualms about eating it.

[alertcommando]

Tanya eats in silence for a bit. But after halfway through her meal, she nudges Annabelle slyly. "You have a fan club."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle glances at Tanya, blinking a bit in surprise. "How do you know it isn't you who has the fan club?" she asks with a smirk.

[alertcommando]

"Look at them." When she does, the guys all look away, trying to act nonchalant.

"I am the Though Commando. You are the gorgeous mysterious woman."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle rolls her eyes playfully. "I will admit that I've never seen that many nonchalant faces in one place before."

She grins. "He'll find it amusing, I'm sure." Him being Connor.

[alertcommando]

"The lucky guy." Tanya smirks and stretches. "And from the way you smile, lucky you too?"

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle smirks back at her. "Oh, absolutely," she replies with a chuckle. If she's a trifle smug, well, she has reason to be.

[alertcommando]

"I'm happy for you." Tanya gives a nod, drinking the rest of the stew before it goes cold.

"Will be even happier tomorrow if the reds decide to fuck off and go to hell."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Me too," Annabelle says with a grin. She follows Tanya's lead and finishes the stew before it starts to congeal.

"I don't know that they'll be that bright, but you never know."

[alertcommando]

"I hope they are. I'm really sick of this war." Tanya closes eyes. "Yuri, Romanov, Vladimir, they all can go to hell... after I shoot their balls off."

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle pulls Tanya into a sideways hug. "I hope so too."

She ponders Tanya's last statement. "I don't know, they'd bleed out awfully fast that way..."

[alertcommando]

"Not if I cauterize it with a red-hot fireplace poker." Tanya leans to her friend. "Then maybe I can retire. I am sick of war."

[aeons_crackshot]

"I can imagine," she says with a shake of her head. "I know I'd want to stick to whatever trouble our Local serves up." Admittedly, when your local is Milliways you get all kinds of interesting trouble.

[alertcommando]

She nods then, closing eyes.

Better to rest, since tomorrow will bring more work of the gory, violent kind.

Another day of war.