Play@YSDC

2 March, 1945. RAF Hawkinge, near Dover.

Spring is not far away, but at least for today, it still feels like winter. The air is cold, freezing you down to the bones. The sun is just starting to send golden rays over the horizon, cutting through the subtle mist wrapping its tendrils around the airbase. It's not enough to warm you right now, and as rain is expected later today, things can only get worse. Fortunately, you won't be here by the time it starts raining. Unfortunately, you are headed towards a place even more cold and hostile than this one.

It's early morning, but that doesn't mean much in an airbase as big as this one - planes are coming and going practically at every hour, and there are people and vehicles moving around as you make your way towards your target. You were ordered to reach Hangar 7, a large building carefully camouflaged inside a little forest of trees. The Battle of Britain is long over, and it's unlikely the Luftwaffe will ever be able to send large flights over Britain again, but some habit are hard to die.
A Douglas C47 stands at rest in front of the hangar, probably waiting for you. Sturdy, reliable, and capable of covering half-Europe and back without refueling, the C47 is the most commonly viewed transport aircraft in the Allied air force. If there's a plane you could feel safe traveling on through half the world, this is probably it. You don't know yet if you're traveling alone, or with some of your comrades in this unusual mission to the far southern edge of civilization. But you'll know soon enough.

Captain Oliver Carpenter is the first to arrive at the airfield. As a member of the SAS, he is familiar with the C47, though for most of his missions he hasn't needed its range. This one is different. He had hoped to be in at the death when Germany falls, which shouldn't be too much longer, but he has to go where he is sent. The South Atlantic might not seem like an important front at this stage of the war, but he does realize that a lot of top Nazis, maybe even Hitler himself, will attempt to flee before the end comes. South America, by way of Spain, is the logical place for them to go. The last thing he wants is for any of the rats to escape. This abandoned base could be waiting for them to move right back into it.

Amadeus Galishoff walks into the hangar after Captain Carpenter. He pulls his overcoat tighter around himself. "So zat's ze tin can zat'll take us to ze bottom of the world, huh?" He looks uncertainly at the aircraft. "Hope the insulation is decent at least." Amadeus shivers at the thought of what awaits on this mission.

"The C47 is a highly reliable aircraft," says Oliver. "It will get us where we need to go in one piece, and we won't freeze to death." He reaches out a hand. "Captain Oliver Carpenter, medical officer."

Amadeus hesitates before shaking the captain's hand. Might as well be civil during this operation. "Doctor Amadeus Galishoff, parapsychologist," his handshake is quick and limp. "So, you'll be ze man I see if I come down wiff da sniffles." He walks past Oliver to get a closer look at the plane. He quickly realizes he doesn't have any clue what he's looking at but plays it off as if inspecting the minutest of details.

"Flown in vun of zeez before, Captain?"

"The sniffles, or, God forbid, acute lead poisoning," says Oliver, returning the handshake. "I've flown in more than one C47 before. I'm in an airborne unit, so I fly more than most."

"Acute? Ac..." Amadeus begins to chuckle as he gets the joke. The giggle quickly escalates to a guffaw. "Zough, captain, I have ze distinct feeling zis trip vill stretch ze bounds of your medical expertise." His laugh after this quote is unsettling.

"That wouldn't surprise me," says Oliver with a ready smile, "especially considering I haven't yet completed my medical education. The war got in the way of that, but I fully intend to resume my studies once it's over. Most of my medical expertise comes from practical experience in the field."

A US Army jeep roars up to the C47 and Stogie Callahan jumps out of the passenger side. He waves absently at the driver and the jeep roars away again. Stogie wanders over to Oliver and Amadeus. Stogie is a short, nuggety looking guy in full US Airborne battle dress and kit, with a rifle slung over his back and an unlit cigar in his mouth.

In a thick, Mid-Western accent he drawls around the cigar, "Stogie Callahan, pleasetameetcha."

Tom appears after Stogie, as if out of nowhere.
"Morning chaps. The name's Tom. Don't think we've had the pleasure."

Another jeep arrives at the hangar and Leander Kemp steps out of it. He takes his things in the back and slaps the car body twice, indicating he's done.

He walks towards the group rubbing his hands."Good morning, fellas!" He salutes the group in a joyful way, but his eyes are fixed in the C47. I don't know 'bout you, but I sure am happy to fly again. Even in this old crate." He stares at the plane for a few more seconds then turns himself to the group "Sorry. Captain Leander Kemp, U.S. Army Air Forces."

A box truck, presumably resupplying the base proper, stops in front of the hangar and a dark-haired man with a rather nasty scar on the side of his face jumps out, snatches up a duffelbag, and approaches the hangar as the truck pulls away and continues on towards the RAF base.

"Looks like yet again, I'm the last to arrive," the man says as he puts down his bag and extends his hand to the men gathered here, his thick Southern accent clerly noticeable. "Sgt. Nick Laplanche. So, I guess we're due for a bit of cold weather, huh?"

"Zats a fair assumption I'd say," Amadeus pulls a handful of fine cigars from the inside breast pocket of his silk, tailored suit. "Zo what seems unfair is ze lack of ze fairer sex in zis motley crew, here." He smirks as he puts a cigar in between his teeth and offers the rest to the group. Their pungency reveals their Caribbean origins.

Smalls have a big, sincere laugh. "Hahaha. You never been in the Army, have you, Sir?" He says, giving Doctor Amadeus a friendly, but maybe a little too hard slap in the back, then kindly refuses the cigar. "Thank you, but I'll stick with mine. American blend." A certain proud could be felt in his voice while he presented the Doctor a pack of Camels.

Amadeus waves off the cigarette and tries to hide a grimace from Smalls' macho gesture. "Vhat gave it avay?" He lights and puffs his cigar. The smoke is thick and overwhelming. "You servicemen will have to teach me how a glossy photo can keep you varm vhen the vind cuts frough to ze bone." He winks at Smalls and puffs out another billow of smoke.

"Thank you," says Oliver, accepting the cigar and taking out his Zippo to light it. "This is a luxury I've been without for a long time. I'm Captain Oliver Carpenter," he says to the new arrivals. "I'm a medical officer with the Special Air Service." He wears a uniform in excellent condition, and his beret has a cap badge displaying a flaming, downward-pointing sword superimposed on a shield with the motto "Who Dares Wins."

Stogie's lieutenant's bar is pretty obvious on his helmet and now he's been alerted to the presence of two superior officers. He gives a single slightly informal, US style salute to both Carpenter and Small. "Captains," he offers by way of comment.

Turning to Amadeus, Stogie accepts the cigar and tucks it in a top pocket. "Thanks Bub, I owe you one. We have a saying in the Airborne - a cigar in the hand is worth two in the bush." He has a voice reminiscent of a garbage truck engine.

Tom gratefully accepts a cigar. "Thank you sir. You're a gent. I'll save this for later. Never know when I might need it", he says with a grin.

Looking round, he notices Oliver's badge. "Good to have you on the team, Captain".

Laplanche pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket and thinks for a moment before putting them back. "Sure, why not," he says, and takes one of the cigars being offered. "Never really got to smoke none of these before." He seats himself on a crate, his duffelbag beside him, and lights the cigar. "So, what do y'all know about what exactly's goin' on here? Something with an old facility of Jerry's, right?"

Smalls informally salutes Stogie back before addressing Laplanche. "As far as I know, the mission concerns an abandoned base in the south Atlantic. I have no further details." He looks around, a little confused. "Also, we are a funny little team, aren't we? We have SAS, U.S. Army, Air Forces, and..." He stops, puzzled, looking at Tom and Amadeus. "Sorry, I don't know where you come from."