Tanya Adams

"I swim alright, but never so much as looked at a scuba tank," she says.

"Which leaves us with the ferry."

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"We have a plan for a contingency. If we ever had to move things in. To exit, well... either of you can fly an attack chopper?" The older woman sighs. "At least if you two make a mess, we will have time to hit some targets here."

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Now Lucy grins. "I can pilot almost anything with rotors. If someone's got the guns, I can point them at something worth shooting at."

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"And I don't mind leaning out of the chopper and shooting the shit out of things," Mary Anne adds.

"Sounds like we're golden."

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"Good." The woman nods. "Be sure to make a mess: it will give us time to do our own messes here. We have two days to wait, Ingrid will show you where you can stay." The older woman gestures to the younger one with the submachinegun.

"I would also like to know how you got here carrying those packs, but my gut tells me I should not ask."

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"Thanks very much."

Their route here? Yes, best not to ask, yes. Surprisingly, Lucy even manages not to make the obligatory 'very carefully' joke. She gathers her things, getting ready to follow Ingrid. If she gets a little time there are some modifications she wants to make to the pinch device.

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"Thank you," Mary Anne echoes, collecting her own gear.

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Ingrid leads them out and along the dark back alleys, quickly and silently. The young woman has a cold, resolute expression, the face of someone who saw the worse a war has to offer.

They need to duck and hide to avoid soviet patrols, even paying attntion to the wind to not be revealed by guard dogs, but eventually they reach a three-story building and are guided to the top floor.

A small, clean and spartan apartment. "Here."

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Lucy, who had been half expecting a hidey-hole behind a wall, is pleasantly surprised. "Thanks, this is great. Will there be others here?"

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Mary Anne murmurs her own thanks and takes a seat on the edge of a bed, setting her bag between her feet while she checks over her rifle.

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Ingrid shakes head, leaning to the door. "No. There is food in the fridge and pantry, and the water works. Turn off the lights if you want to look out the windows." Obviously, she is there to also answer any other questions.

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"Sounds good." Lucy starts to unload her pack onto the table. Oh yeah, one question. "Are we incommunicado here? Will we be able to contact you or anything? We two will probably not be wandering around town."

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"Keeping our heads down for two days is our biggest goal," Mary Anne adds in agreement, not looking up from her gun.

"And if we're going across on that evening ferry, when should we be ready to move? Sunset of that day?"

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"Two hours before sunset, I guess. I dont know the plan the boss has in mind, but from what I know, you will go with one of our operatives, get the first ferry, hide in the island until most of the support crew leaves. You should strike by mid-morning as the transport chopper arrives, secure it, go in, grab your friend and get out."

"Of course it would mean you need to have a distraction for the patrol boats, or you will be shot down quickly."

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Lucy's already up to her wrists in her electronics. She's been running the circuit in her head and she thinks she can boost the effective range by a few hundred feet. She shoots a smile at their host. "We'll think of something."

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Mary Anne nods, switching her attention from rifle to pistol, and mulling over uses for the explosives in her bag.

"Thanks again for your help."

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"Thank me by not screwing up our work here." The girl shrugs. "There are motion trackers in the hallway. If someone approaches, the light flashes." She indicates an orange LED above the door.

"If whoever comes to the door says 'It is me' and gives a name, there is a secret door in the back of the closet: it means the Reds busted us."

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"Good to know." Both warnings are appreciated; Lucy looks up long enoug to smile at their host/guest. "Thanks, and we won't let you down." Then she digs for her component kit and soldering iron.

So many plans and adjustments to make, so little time.

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The corner of her mouth quirks, hidden by the fall of her hair and her bowed head. The girl sounds much like she would have if someone showed up in her part of the jungle uninvited.

"We won't," she echoes.

And now it's time to check the knives.

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