Spoiler: Combat Roll D100: 17+10= 27 (Fail) https://www.rolldicewithfriends.com/rooms/coldwarrpg Wendigo feels his arm fly forward - a little slow. The thug grabs him by the wrist, pulling hard, and the old man falls forward right into the oncoming forehead of the attacker. Wendigo feels his nose crack, pain flooding his senses as he falls backwards and his attacker goes to grab his gun and disarm him. Behind him, the other guy steps into the room, but isn't quite able to intervene yet.
This... was getting ridiculous! He was an expert in hand to hand! Wendigo snarled and went for the man's weapon in close quarters, using him as a shield, while trying to take away his weapon and take down both men with it.
Wendigo sees stars as the younger man batters him in the face, falling back. He's staring at a gun barrel, when he hears - over the ringing in his ears - the bedroom door slam open. There's a bang, and then the thug falls back in a spray of blood. Spoiler: Combat Roll D100+10=99 Wendigo moves fast as his enemy's corpse slides down the wall towards the ground. Grabbing the man's pistol from where it fell, he raises it. The other thug is aiming away from Wendigo in a two handed grip. When Wendigo fires, the bullet goes through both hands, and his pistol drops uselessly to the floor. He sees that the old man is now armed, and turns to run, but Wendigo puts a bullet through his knee and he falls onto his face, unable to fight or escape. "I felt bad for you. Had to come to the rescue." Witch approaches from the bedroom, pistol smoking, smirking sardonically at Wendigo.
"It's one of those days..." Windigo said without mirth in his voice. One of the days everything went wrong. An old man he might be, but to be overcome by the younger men soo much... He shook his head. "Thanks for the aid. I knew you cared~" He smiled to the Witch, before grabbing the wounded man and bringing him to the room and binding his arms and making sure he was disarmed. After he was sure that the man would not escape, he took a good look at him. "Now, why don't you tell us to whom you are working for?" Windigo asked the prisoner.
"Oh, you know what they say about seasoned men in a young man's profession," Olena teased, the slightest bit of breathless heat in her voice to knock Uranus off balance before delivering the punch. "Of course, she could also just get old and crotchety like you, opa!" Couldn't be too free with one's compliments. (Sorry about the lengthy delay. This month was especially exhausting.)
(No need to apologise! Hoping it's getting better) Spoiler: Seduction Roll D100: 63 "Yes, quite." Uranus answers in a soft grunt that's a little too monotone to truly be as uncaring as its meant to seem - nor can he stop himself from looking back into the rear view mirror for another gaze at her. He won't be proposing to her any time soon, but there's no question now that he's not the man of stone he tries to portray - except maybe in one area - and neither is he uninterested in her buxom young form. The car zooms along the quiet highway, headlights the only illumination in a sea of dark. "We're nearing the temporary safehouse." Bagration notes. "Don't know about you two, but I could use some Z's on a comfortable bed." The long haired young agent uses an Americanism that earns him a withering glance from his older comrade. "We still have a great stretch of road ahead until we reach the train back to Moscow. We shouldn't keep Mama waiting." Uranus answers back tersely. "Hmm, hung jury." Bagration shrugs, before looking back. "Deciding vote - whaddaya think, Vixen?"
"Oh, you want to talk about being tired?" Olena teased, just a little genuine in her awe at the sheer audacity of Bagration to imply that he was more tired than her. Despite the levity of the topic, the Ukrainian Amazonian gave it some thought. She would like some time to recover from the operation - it wasn't the most beaten and exhausted she had been in her life, but beating on guards, getting fucked into submission, then jumping off of buildings had a habit of tuckering her out just the same... And she truly doubted Andropov would be focused on anything but taking the knowledge that someone in the State wanted him dead and run with it. Literally. It was unlikely he would pursue the trio... The only real risk was annoying Mama. "Depends on how much time we have before our expected report-in time. If we have a few hours, I say we catch some time to recover and make up for the rest later. Otherwise, I'm not eager to have Mama send someone to find us... Or worse, bring herself along for the hide-tanning.
(Sorry for missing your post!) "If you die, I have to write a lot of paperwork." Witch says tartly. "Easier to just wait for you to keel over naturally." The thug spits blood onto the floor. "Fuck you." He says in an American accent. "And your bitch."
"I'm exhausted from being so worried about you." Bagration grins. "It really was a challenging time for me." "Mama gave us some time, in case we were pursued and had to shake our pursuers." Uranus drawls, ignoring the back and forth like an irritated father. "Fine. We will rest." He concedes. Before too long, the car pulls up into the lot of a Tsarist-era road lodge, scaffolding and tape declaring that it's under renovations. The older man exits the car, heading through an unlocked window and returning with three keys. "You remember your room? Left hand side, second floor." He says, unneccesarily, as he hands Olena the key.
Olena accepted the keys with a grateful smooch on Uranus's cheek. "Thanks, opa," she teased, dancing away just as quickly as she had snuck closer into the older man's personal space. She bumped Bagration's hip with her own as she passed him with a wink, before promptly moving to explore the lodge... And ensure there was no sign of it being compromised. While she wasn't worried about Andropov, she was worried about the Bratva or some other homegrown organization such as GRU and their military-trained operatives... But not that much. In fact, she would leave the door to her room unlocked as she made the place cozy enough to strip down and crawl underneath the covers of the bed without a stitch on her - after hiding the documents she had hidden in her bodysuit, of course.
Despite the run down and antiquated look of the lodge, the rooms are well maintained inside, and it isn't long before Olena is resting comfortably on a feather mattress. She's been resting for about an hour, feeling herself begin to doze, when she hears footsteps on the deck outside. They're heavy footfalls that make the old wood creak - Uranus' heavy combat boots, rather than Bagration's flamboyant snakeskin...things. She hears the old man walk out of his room, across the deck, skipping Bagration's room before he stops in front of her door. She hears her doorknob turn, before returning to its normal position. Uranus stands out there, frozen, seemingly indecisive about whether to come in or not.
A joke made him quirk his lips in a smile. Windigo frowned, a little tired. He shook his head, banishing the thoughts. "Could you then have a chat with the man?" He asked as he closed the door and gathered the weapons of the two men. He took their wallets and started searching them for anything... interesting.
Olena allowed a quiet sigh to escape her as sleep eludes her. She works her way up with her elbows up to her hands, sitting up in bed as she realizes the sound that had awoken her was someone working the handle. She blinked the gathering fatigue out of her eyes, before boldly hopping out of bed and wandering to the door, entirely uncaring at the goosebumps that rose along her skin or the way her teats began to harden in the cool air... And maybe just a bit of arousal, knowing it was one of her comrades falling for the Vixen's charms. Her boldness remained as she opened the door, presumably finding Uranus standing there as he debated whether he should really indulge in fraternizing with his younger coworker. The Amazonian Ukrainian simply smiled at him, leaning against the door frame. One arm rose steady herself, crossing her torso just under her chest as her hand pressed against the doorframe. Her other arm, the closest to the frame, rose above her head to grasp the doorframe, shifting her stance from merely being inviting to downright seductive. Olena didn't say anything - men like Uranus generally don't like being teased in times where they are unsure of themselves. Besides which, she would rather the older man indulge in her because he was certain in his desire for her, not because she had pressured him.
Wendigo picks up the handguns the men were using - which he was nearly shot with - and looks at their wallets. He sees US drivers' licenses and passports - but of course, getting authentic looking fakes isn't that hard in this business, so that's not a guarantee that the names inside are actually the men.
Uranus looks at her in the moonlight, his breath hitching slightly as she sees him look her up and down, gazing upon the lustful curvaceousness of her body. He frowns, and she can guess what's going on inside his head - lust warring with a hatred at his lack of control. Finally, he leans in, and his lips meet hers.
Olena's smile remained up until Uranus conceded to his desires and kissed her. "Hmmngh~," she hummed in delight - rapidly coming to the conclusion that bagging two older men in one night was a bit more than a mere coincidence. Nonetheless, the Vixen made it clear that she was all about Uranus's decision, giving him every bit of enthusiastic participation in returning his amorous advances and pulling him into an embrace between soft arms against a delightfully soft chest. When the two broke for air, the redhead shot him a toothy grin that evoked vulpine challenge, before catwalking back to bed. Those wide hips sashayed right to her mattress, before she bent forward and placed both hands on it, arching her back and and gently shaking her callipygian derriere from side to side. Olena's double-decker posterior didn't hide the deep blue eyes that peered over the Vixen's shoulder, a "come hither" look so enticing that it could bring life to a statue. "I've been a bad girl tonight, opa..."
Windigo hummed as he checked the man - money were always useful - as were the two guns. He paused and took closer look at them. He then glanced at Witch, to see how she was doing.
The sight of Uranus struggling with his combat ebbing and hurriedly pulling off his fatigues is so delightful it almost spoils the intimate mood. That's fixed as he's able to get his boots, pants and underwear off, revealing a well beyond average sized manhood, already thick and erect. Despite his age, his body is lean and well muscled, moonlight illuminating a range of scars that tell the tale of gunshot wounds, knife slashes and even what look like acid burns. He moves towards her, his hands lightly brushing along her ass, feeling the soft flesh, before he raises a palm and brings it down on her cheek with a clap that sounds like a gunshot in the quiet room. "Yes, you have been." He growls, rubbing a finger along her entrance. "But I'll forgive you if you're sweet to me now, кошеня." He says soothingly. Kitten. Olena can't help but grin at breaking the iceman's exterior hard enough for him to give her a pet name.
Heading back into the main room, Windigo sees the living thug lying on his stomach. Witch has his arms twisted in a stress position, her pistol pointed at his head as she questions him, but he continually tells her to fuck off nonetheless.
