Two Quiet Crossings

[callmedelta]

Agent Matthew B. Amiot looked over the mission briefing, and it was hard to believe his eyes. "Am I reading this briefing correctly, sir?" Mattew asked.

"What's the issue, Matthew?" Commander Marcus asked from the other side of the old wooden desk, in his rural-Setange accent that decades in the field and behind the desk couldn't seem to shave off, "The mission shouldn't be an issue for someone of your skills."

"That's not the issue, sir," Matthew clarified, "I just don't quite get what Command is trying to do with this mission. I'm an agent, not a glorified photographer. We should be sending the Elenrians more than a cameraman."

The Commander sighed, "Need I remind you that you are whatever the Gendarmerie needs you to be? If Command says you go and join the circus for his Highness, I'd better see you in damn circus, agent." Marcus opened a drawer of his desk, retrieving a cigar and lighting it up. He took a deep breath, the exhaled a ring of smoke. "Those Elenrians need help. Every day, more and more of 'em come over the border 'cause it's better than starvin' to death. How do you think trainin' those Inselni just for them to all get shot in a Territorial raid is gonna help them? Besides," the Commander let out another draw of his cigar, "anythin' happenin' in Elenria spils over the border. Always has. Those spiders'll take any chance they get to invade us. We gotta play it carefully. Now do you understand?"

Matthew sighed. "I still disagree with Command's assessment, but I understand, sir. But there's still one thing the document leaves unclear." Marcus's eyebrows perked up. "The briefing does not state if I am allowed to incite protests or not, just that I'm to document them under the guise of a reporter, and that I'm to make Kumosenkan look as bad as possible."

"That one's up to you, Agent, just try to keep 'em peaceful."

"Understood, sir." Matthew stood up, gave the Commander a three-fingered Franch salute, then left to go get his equipment for the mission ahead. 

'One briefing down, 59 to go.'

---

Matthew stared down at the map in his hands, struggling to make anything out in pitch black of night. Even the full moon didn't help, the pale light filtered through the canopy of trees he sat under. 'This should be the place,' he thought, as Matthew scoured the night for his 'Elenrian friend.' The man's stomach growled, breaking the silence of the night. Matthew dropped to the ground, scanning the woods for the tell-tale lights of any Elenrian border patrols, but none came. Standing up and brushing himself off, the Franchman opened his bag, rummaging around inside for his rations. Those rations would be the only thing to sustain him until he could reach a town, and they weren't much. Matthew's bag didn't have much room for rations. Other than a small first aid kit, sleeping bag, and other small miscellanious supplies, the majority of his bag was occupied by the FRGAC-6, the finest camera Franerre had to offer, enough film to fill a movie theater, as well as a radio, to keep in touch with command. The Agent's meal was interrupted by the hoot of an owl. Matthew listened. Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot. Hoot hoot. 'Looks like my friend is here,' Matthew thought, as his picked up his bag and began to scan for his new 'Friend.'

[StaolDerg]

As Matthew began to search for his contact, a Crown sat cross legged in a patch of moss hidden from moonlight by a grove of old oaks, lowering his hands from cupping his mouth. He felt a little silly, sitting like this, but he was glad the Ashigawans had at least managed to get him a rather nice pistol that was concealed in the rucksack on his back. He peeked out into the night, looking for the foreign agent. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he looked about, hoping that they hadn't been arrested or detained at the border, or worse- the message intercepted and a trap waiting. Suddenly he regretted have made the signal. He reached for the pistol, panic sinking in. What if-

He heard someone rustle about in the leaves, directing the drawn pistol at it.

"Halt." he demanded. He looked abaout with a pounding heart, his fingers slippery with sweat. "Hoot hoot." He tightened his grip, waiting for the reply to the passcode.

[callmedelta]

As Matthew stepped out of the brush, he raised his hands upon seeing the drawn pistol. "I didn't know there were any owls around here," Matthew said, reciting the proper passcode, "To think, I've been birdwatching out here for 5 years, and I never knew about the owls. Now can you drop the pistol?" 'Hell of a 'friend' the GA set me up with,' Matthew thought.

[StaolDerg]

The Crown breathed a shallow sigh of relief, holstering the gun. "I apologize. The border closed down an hour ago. I was afraid you were caught and a patrol sent to arrest me instead. Come along, join me. We need to talk. And first off, show me your face. I need to, uh..." He searched for the right word. "Redecorate it? I think that's the right term." He moved into the grove, waiting for Matthew in the moss patch.

[callmedelta]

"The border's down?" Matthew asked walking forward and doing his best to show off his face in the filtered moonlight, "How the hell can the border be down? Don't those spiders know much traffic goes through there?" Matthew paused, reaching a hand for his pack. It was possible for him to get into contact with command right now, as risky as it was. If Matthew needed to get back across the Franch border, now might be his only chance. 'No,' Matthew thought, taking his hand back, 'There can't be any going back now.'

[StaolDerg]

The Crown shrugged helplessly. "Don't ask me. I'm not Territorial Command. All I know is that the whole place is going to be crawling with soldiers soon. What did your people even do to piss them off? They didn't intercept the message, did they?"

He took a glance at Matthew and shook his head, sighing. "Ok, get in here. I'm going to draw on your face with some paint- all Crown have it. It's going to burn somewhat, but it'll be fine you don't scratch it. Normally we cut and burn it into our skin, but I don't have time for that and/or equipment either. Just don't touch it and we'll be fine. Oh, and don't get wet." He reached into his knapsack for a small silver container, not unlike a personal beauty set. "Hold still."

"Listen, if anyone stops you, you're my cousin and don't speak the local dialect of Elenrian, got it? If they figure out you're from across the border, they'll report both of us and I'd personally rather not get my ass tossed into the prison camps." As the Crown spoke, their face shifted into a sliver of pale moonlight.

They looked young, maybe fifteen at the oldest, thirteen at the youngest. A bird of some sort was drawn onto his face with a healthy emerald dye.

[callmedelta]

"If they intercepted the message, we'd be in prison already," Matthew said, before sitting calmly to let the Crown do his work with the paint. True to his word, it did burn a little bit, but it didn't bother Matthew much. Why applying burning paint to your skin was a cultural thing, Matthew didn't know, but it was what was required of him, and he'd done stranger in the field before. Once the Crown was finished with the paint, Matthew spoke up. "I can speak perfect Elenrian, and half a dozen other languages too. Not being able to speak the local dialect seems like a flimsy excuse to me, anyway." 'A flimsy excuse that made sense for him to come up with, given the boy's age, but still.' "I do think the cousin idea is a good one, though."

[StaolDerg]

The boy shook his head. "Suit yourself. I'm going to take us by the long route to a safe house, so we won't have to do too much talking. I'm more scared that your accent is the academic version of Elenrian and not the regional ones. We're staying off the main roads until we reach the big tree before Apafi-Meriat. Just follow me. Actually, better yet, say you're my cousin and uh... on vacation. If I talk long enough the locals will leave us alone."

The boy gave the area beyind the grove a concerned glance, as if they were being stalked. They seemed too paranoid for their own good and probably hadn't been the first choice for the mission by the Royalists. "Okay. Let's get going. Snow will be pouring down soon anyway. Keep your head down of you see lights."

[callmedelta]

"In that case, we'll make sure I have the right accent when we get to the safe house, but for now, I'll let you take the lead," Matthew said. He could have shot back with a quip or two, but time was of the essence. The pair needed to get as far away from the border as possible.

[StaolDerg]

The journey was uneventful for the first few minutes, but then as the sky slowly began to redden with clouds and the itch of snowflakes drifting down upon them, the roads visible from across fields of slowly accumulating white began to light up with the headlights of army trucks. The Crown seemed unaffected by the weather, instead nervously eyeing the trucks as they distantly rumbled towards the border. 

"Hurry," he muttered, motioning to Matthew despite the other man following behind him for a good while now. 

They ran into their first bout of trouble when the snow began to intensify, smothering them in icy cold grains coating their surroundings. The Crown suddenly seized the Franch agent by the collar and dragged him to the floor facedown for a minute, maintaining the pressure the best of his ability. The wind prevented communication, but through the snow the steps of boots was faintly audible, incredibly close to the two. 

---

"What's that?"

The other trooper turned to his partner, who was looking at something in the dark. "What's what?" The lantern's light shifted to a patch of clothing in the snow, the owner unmoving. 

The first one unholstered their rifle, the bayonet briefly gleaming in the moonlight. Without hesitation, they drove the blade into the body emerging, without any blood.

The relief between the two was palpable as they nodded, continuing on.

---

The Crown yanked Matthew up from the snow, looking about wildly with quiet, panicked breaths. The snow had somewhat subsided in the few minutes, but the light was slowly disappearing over the edge of a bluff. He patted about both of their clothes, breathing a sigh of relief to see no stab wounds. "Come on, let's go-" The boy tripped on something, standing up to see a body. They seemed unfazed, waving the Franch agent on towards a forest in the distance.

[callmedelta]

Once the pair were in the clear, Matthew knelt down, patting the body down. He found what could be a few identifying papers, though the Agent didn't have much time to look at them with the snow and the wind. Once the pair were out of the snow and into the forest, where the wind had died down, he spoke up, "These give you any idea as to who the body was back there?" Matthew handed the papers over to the Crown.

[StaolDerg]

Without looking up from the papers, the boy shrugged. "Doesn't matter. They probably froze looking for food or starved out here, or something. They've been dead for some time- these papers are from last year. I don't recognize the last name- probably from the arid regions. Don't know what they were doing here. The Territorials get pretty trigger-happy in this sector as you can see. Good thing he died close to us- we almost got killed ourselves."

He stuffed the papers back into his pocket. "I'll give these to my father. Some Territorial will probably bury him later anyway. Least we can do is make sure these get back to any family. He continued to lead the Agent through the forest, looking about for more patrols.

"We're almost there. How are you holding up?"

[callmedelta]

'Died scavenging for food?' Matthew thought, 'I suppose that's in line with the reports, though it's another thing to see it first hand.' When the Crown asked him how he was holding up, Matthew paused for a moment. Here was a boy, maybe half of Matthew's age if he was generous, and Matthew was asked if he was fine. "I'm holding up fine, though I'm a bit cold. How are you holding up?" Matthew asked.

[StaolDerg]

"I'm fine myself." the boy replied, climbing over a snow-covered log. " We dress for this weather all the time. You can warm up at the safehouse- there's a stove and some food. I hunted a buck a few days ago, still have some leftover steaks." He grinned at the hunting part with a touch of pride. "Its just over the next bluff, we'll stay there for the night. Everyone else is trying to sleep though, so try to be quiet."

[callmedelta]

"It normally doesn't snow like this in Franere thanks to the Bays, unless it's a bad winter, which could be the case this year," Matthew explained as he climbed over the same log, "So we hardly have any reason to dress up heavy. A warm safehouse sounds like a dream come true right now, but the warmth and the safety. Don't worry about my noise at all, I can move so silently you could hear a pin drop." Matthew chuckled, "That's not an exaggeration, either, that's part of the training at the GA."