song_tra_bong | In-country with Julian: day two

"Alright." She smiles in the dark, for once liking the way his mind works.

"You want to go first then, or should I take point?"

He draws his sword. 'I'll go first.'

There's not a second of hesitation in his voice. He turns and starts walking, seemingly casual - but he's alert, eyes scanning and looking for more drops, spikes, booby traps, whatever - and his ears are sensitive, listening for things that shouldn't be there.

She nods and follows after, switching her flashlight for her knife.

The farther they go, there's a sense of claustrophobia, of being buried in damp earth. She inhales the smell until it makes her head spin. Her eyes focus more sharply, trained on Julian and what of the tunnel she can see beyond.

Claustrophobia has never bothered him, he never considers it. He hears her breathing in and it continues long enough for him to slow a little and glance back over his shoulder.

'You're not about to go crazy and start screaming are you? That would be most tiresome.'

She laughs softly. "No screaming, I promise. As for crazy, it's possible I am already."

The breathing isn't about fending off claustrophobia. It's about absorbing this place, carrying it away with her. It smells like life.

"Don't worry about me," she assures. "Just keep going. I'm fine."

'No, you're not crazy.' He says it without thinking. And if he knew the reasons for the breathing, he'd tell her to stop trying so hard. Whether she would take it the way he intended it or not, would be quite another matter.

He keeps going. All clear so far.

Under different circumstances, she would throw out a witty remark about how he should have met her a few years ago, back when she was still making necklaces.
Out of human tongues.
As it is, she just smiles slightly at his remark and follows him deeper underground.

He would think necklaces far more crazy than what she's doing now. He moves on though - and after another hundred yards or so stops dead, listening.

There's nothing to be heard. But there is a change in the air, suggesting that the tunnel changes somehow ahead. He turns his head to her and murmurs quietly. 'What do they normally keep down here? It opens out about two hundred yards further down. Is it likely to be guarded?'

Julian has good senses. He knows he's not wrong about it - but also knows that just because he doesn't hear people, doesn't mean there aren't any.

She almost runs into him when he stops, but checks herself in time.

"They keep everything down here," she whispers back. "Could be their infirmary, ammo storage, officers' planning room--anything. If there's anyone down here, a guard is likely. All we can do is stay quiet and move fast once we're out in the open."

He thinks about it. 'It's likely to be the ammo storage. They wouldn't keep that near the surface because it'd be likely to ignite if an airstrike came. Safer to keep it below. Too far down to transport injured people. Officers planning place could be viable I suppose.'

He pulls a knife from his belt with his left hand, to go with the sword in his right. 'Keep your ears open then. Lets go.'

She's impressed with his logic. Not that she'll say so.

She settles for a nod, flipping the saftey off her pistol and adjusting her grip on her knife. "Right behind you."

He walks silently and not creeping along slowly, holding his breath, either. That always seems to him to make more noise - or at least ping people's senses that there's someone about, trying to be quiet. Instead he walks with simple care, breathing through his mouth to control it and make it silent, eyes and ears alert.

He waits for a while at the entrance to the opening, eyes roaming across it. He sees no one and it's quiet, but not lit - and there could be anyone hiding behind the crates if they heard them coming. He gestures to Mary Anne that she should check one side of the cavern while he'll check the other, then moves to his left without waiting for a response.

She acknowledges his gesture with another nod and heads to the right, staying close to the wall. She weaves behind crates, using them for cover. Her pistol is at the ready and her knife arm ready to strike, but she finds nothing.

The cavern isn't that big; much further and she might run smack into Julian. She slows her pace, listening for something from his side of the room.

He's disappointed to find it empty. He walks to the centre and says quietly, 'No one here. I presume these crates contain ammunition, are you going to take any? I can carry some for you if you think the weight will slow you down.'

With her flashlight tucked away, she follows his voice to the middle of the room. "I went a little overboard on stocking up, last time I came home. Won't take much."

She runs a hand over a crate, feeling the lid shift under her touch. "Hm." She scoots the lid aside, then gropes blindly inside. They may have cleared the room but she's still reluctant to bring out a light.

"Pistol ammo," she remarks softly, lifting a few magazines out and tucking them into her bag. "And this..." She checks a neighboring crate with an open lid. "Rifle." She lays the magazine against her palm, feeling it out like a blind woman. "For a 47."

She shrugs, putting it back. "Not like I didn't bring enough. You find another tunnel on your side, or will we have to go back the way we came?"

'There's another.' He doesn't move though, just asks. 'Did you ever shoot one of those things before you came here?'

He doesn't much like guns because he thinks they're crass and common. But he appreciates that she seems to know what she's talking about with them.

A shake of the head. "No. But I had good teachers."

She stands there for a moment, trying to study his face in the dark. "Should we go, then?"

He shrugs and moves off into the new tunnel, keeping quiet as before. Her studying doesn't bother him, he knows his face gives nothing away. And he doesn't have far to go before the ground dips sharply, sharp enough so that it's almost a drop. He looks back and murmurs, 'Probably have to slide down, too steep to walk now'...and proceeds to do just that, sitting down and sliding easily down into pitch blackness below.

She puts away her pistol and knife, then ducks her head out of the rifle strap, the weapon dropping into her waiting hands.

Gun cradled near her chest, she sits and pushes off, hoping Julian can get out of the way before she crashes into him.

He does - having slid on the side of one leg while the other remained straight, it means he's practically standing as soon as the foot hits flat ground. He clears the bottom so Mary Anne has room, thinking to himself that he was lucky there were no spikes or anything waiting for him and he should have been more careful really. Then he walks on to get his bearings - and runs straight into a wall. Everything's solid above and to the sides, so he checks beneath his feet - and yes, there's a trapdoor.

He waits for Mary Anne. He needs to see whether she has the guts to go through when there could be anything waiting on the other side - including people, listening to them move right now. If that's the case, they'd be dead before they had the chance to fight their way out.

She doesn't quite have Julian's skill with landings--she went down more like a grade school kid on a slide--but when she hits bottom she gets upright quickly and with minimal awkwardness.

She takes a few tentative steps forward, then checks herself a hairsbreadth from hitting Julian. "What did you find?" she whispers.

'We can only go down. It's either a trap, or the door has been put there as a necessity when they were building.'

There's no way of knowing which it is. He says no more, wanting to get her initial reaction because it'll probably be the true one.

She's quiet for a moment. "They wouldn't rig any explosives this deep, and certainly not in something connected to ammo storage. If the door is a trap, it's covering stakes. If it's covering a room...We move the door and there's any light, doubtful they'd waste a lantern on a stake pit. Of course, it's doubtful they'd waste light on an empty room, too."

She sets her jaw. "If wee find light, we'll have to be fast. Grab my ankles--I'll go through from the waist up. I can sweep the room and you can get me out if the shit hits the fan."

Damn Viet Cong engineers and their need to put doors in the floor.

He nods, even if she can't see it in the dark. It's a sound plan - and she's showing no fear, which is far more important to him. He'd have been disappointed if she'd asked for them to go back the way they'd come.

He moves, crouches and grabs her ankles. 'Crouch, move the thing and go. It must be done quickly, to surprise them if they're there. If you shout, I'll pull you back fast - leave your rifle next to me and use your handgun. I'll be able to grab it and shoot through the hol once you're back up, if necessary.'

She drops into a crouch, laying the rifle within Julian's reach and drawing her pistol. She flips the saftey off and, gun still in hand, lifts the trapdoor the slightest bit open.

A telltale sliver of light shines out.

She takes a deep breath. "Back in a minute, dear." Then, almost in one motion, she flips the door wide open and dives through the entrance.

There. Two soldiers at a table--with cards? a map?--two head shots before they can draw their weapons. She twists, trying not to wrench herself out of Julian's grip but trying to see, and there--one almost behind her, diving for an AKfucking47 and she pulls the trigger twice before he stops moving. She looks around a moment longer; there don't seem to be any exits from here, so no chance of someone running for help.

"Pull me up," she says, voice calm. "Room's clear."

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