Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
Todt wipes as much sludge off Guy as he can and drags him to the car. "Ford! Stay here and watch him. Cubillo and I are investigating the house before we leave."
He collects a small vial of sludge off Guy's jacket, and then draws his pistol and enters the front door of the house.
As the group recovers from...well, from whatever the hell just happened...and starts to move onto the porch, a series of voices can be heard from behind the nearby hill. The voices are groggy at first, then grow increasingly agitated. They are all close enough to be heard relatively well. "Der'mo kakogo khrena bylo to chto?!"
"Steklo! Grebanyy steklo! Ublyudki slomal yego!"
"Vse vy, poluchit' eti idioty otsyuda!"
At least 6 voices can be heard shouting "Da!" in unison.
From over the rise, heavy assault rifle fire begins to slam into the roof of the house. Splinters spray out across the driveway and yard as slugs thud into the wood. The noise is almost deafening. Ford screams "We need to move! Get to the car! Covering fire!" and begins to fire from the car up towards the treeline.
"HOLY SHIT!!" failing to dodge the shrapnel from the sudden assault, Javier swings his rifle around and slams the bolt forward. "Todt. Car. Now." Swinging around from the edge of the porch, he lets a bullet go toward the source of gunfire. "FORD! START THE DAMN CAR!"
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
Todt skids to a halt as he is peppered with splinters. He ducks and dodges and lies prone behind something sturdy and hopefully bullet-proof. "FORD! CAR!"
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
edited October 2013
Guy groans and his eyelashes flutter a bit. "'...badidea....ugh...waaay'satgunfire?
Ford fires off the rounds in his revolver and slides along the back of the truck and into the driver's seat. A round ricochets off the roof as he revs the engine and sends the vehicle slamming into the stairs of the porch. "MOVE!" he shouts, as another round shatters a back window.
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
edited October 2013
Todt leaps into the back of the truck and hides in the bed, blindly firing off a few rounds at the hill as he does so.
Following his partners lead, Javier slams the bolt forward again and tries his best to provide a shot to cover the other doctor's retreat.
As he see's him slide into the Jeep, he yells "TODT! COVER ME!" and without waiting for a response, Javier leaps from cover and huffs it to the vehicle.
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
Recognizing the gun shots, Guy gets into the far side of the back seat and ducks his head into his lap. Strange images continue to dance around the fringes of his conscious mind, making it difficult to do much else.
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
Todt reloads and keeps firing, trying to keep the antagonists' heads' down to cover his fellow medical professional.
With everyone in the car, Ford slams the vehicle in reverse hard and floors the throttle. His face is deathly pallid, and his eyes are rolling a bit as he pops a final round out the window.
The group puts up a field of fire as best they can, though it pales in comparison to the withering fire hail of bullets popping off from over the rise. Your rounds mostly puff into the dirt or smash into the treeline, but it's enough to sever a large limb, which drops into the unseen gunmen. As the car careens down the drive, you can hear a muffled curse. A parting slug glances off the hood of the Jeep, then you're clear.
"Russkies." Ford hissed. "Russkies in fuckin' New goddamn Mexico." He pauses for a long time as he brings the Jeep back to a normal speed in the neighborhood. "They didn't want us dead. Just gone. Otherwise, we'd be bleeding out in the dirt back there."
A pair of police cruisers goes screaming past the truck, sirens blazing. They don't appear to notice the damage to the vehicle, or slow to investigate.
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
Guy holds his head in his hands in the back seat. "We've really stepped in something this time, gentlemen. Whatever is happening it's... occult." The last word oozed disgust and revulsion.
"Whew...that was a rush." Finally lowering his rifle, he turns back to Ford. "Russians...why would they be here? Why bother shooting at us when, I don't know, THERE ARE FREAKING ZOMBIES, in the hills?!"
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
Continuing to hold his head, Guy looked up briefly. "Zombies are the least of it, I think. Touching that mirror gave me visions of some seriously weird shit, and I made sure to have Ford do the same so it wasn't just me being crazy. I assume he can confirm..."
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
"Zombies, Russians, and an escaped convict. At the same house! ...We might be in over our heads on this one."
Todt glances at the bullet holes in the side of the vehicle.
"Getting an intact car would be nice. It's a miracle we weren't stopped earlier."
Ford grits his teeth with an audible click, and shakes himself out of whatever daze he had been in. "Fixer team...everything's just getting worse. This was a simple VIP location gig." He glances around at the various bullet holes and scratches on the car. "This thing is covered in evidence pointing back to me and to EON....shit."
He pulls into a strip mall and parks in a space in back, near an pair of rusting truck trailers. "If we're going to strip this thing down, we need to be incredibly thorough, and we're going to need time and privacy to do it. I have no interest in explaining to APD that I'm stripping down my Jeep because of a fucking Ruskie invasion. It's that or we stash this thing somewhere that won't draw any attention...In any case, who do you trust around here to get us new transpo?"
After a lengthy study of the map, Ford locates a nearby drainage ditch that he hopes will provide the needed privacy for the upcoming work. Keeping to the back roads and circling the block 4 times to scope out any potential witness, the crew cruises down the slanted canal wall and into a dim culvert. Working quickly, but as quietly as possible Ford and von Todt comb over the vehicle, checking for any tags or engravings that could identify the owner of the vehicle. Guy, showing his years of practice, begins to wipe down all surfaces for any possible fingerprints. Javier lingers near the vehicle for a time, but seems so lost in his own bent thoughts that he eventually wanders to the entrance to watch for passersby.
When everything is stripped, each man hefts a duffle bag of equipment. Ford pulls a brick of C4 from a hidden compartment in the back of the vehicle and fiddles with a detonator. "Never hurts to prepare." he says with a joyless grin. He places it against the dashboard and releases the parking break, as the rest give the car a shove to set it rolling.
The four of you move swiftly in the other direction, jogging up the embankment to Mason's waiting car. "Jesus shit Christ, you fuckers have been stirring up some hornets nests!" he says with a weak laugh. The police monitor in his truck is buzzing angrily about a shootout and search. "Desert is hot enough without all the heat you're dragging up." As if to emphasize his point, the explosives go off loudly far behind the fleeing truck, with any luck destroying any incriminating evidence. As the truck crosses the Rio Grande, Guy drops the trashbag full of plates and tags into the river.
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
"What should we do next? Several of us are hurt, and we've lost a car. Should we go to a clinic? Move our stuff to a different motel? Buy a car? Buy more guns?"
Todt sighs.
"It's been a long day, Mason. Thanks for picking us up."
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
"What we need is a plan" said Guy, after staring off into space for a few moments, and having completely dropped his accent for the moment.
"I think we need to get everyone treated as fast as we can- if we can get people bandaged up well enough here we can do that, or else I can ask around and try to find a discreet clinic. We really need to decide what to do next- Do we concentrate on the transplant patients and hunt them down- maybe head over to Albuquerque to find that convict before the others do?"
Guy kicked a piece of garbage across the room. "Maybe we need more weapons too, judging by whatever those things with assault rifles were. Does anyone have any experience with other-worldly shit that might be able to provide some useful information? Is there something other than bigger guns that will help here?"
"Mason...sorry for all the trouble. Things have gotten a little, interesting?" Javier gives a slight grin. "This is not exactly what we had planned."
"I think we should go to ground for a couple days, get ourselves patched up, and definitely some more firepower. Anyone have an idea on where to hide out? I don't know if going back to the motel is a good idea."
Turning to Guy "Other-worldly...like find a medium or something?" Javier's eyes go glassy as he speaks the last.
[Aegeri]
Whether it was the suicide earlier, the long hours on the road, or just too much time around the kitsch of Roswell, you have a hell of a time focusing on your research. Sitting in the dingy motel room, you stare at a stack of books and notes, but the words on the page don't seem to stick in your mind at all. Finally, after several hours of idle flipping through your collection, you come across a symbol that looks remarkably like the one carved into the girl from this afternoon. Reading closer, you find a mention of the sign as that of Khasmarot, the Vast Crawling Doom.
You are pulling out a fresh note pad and begin to study further, when a crash and yelping cry through the walls draw you to your window. A short distance away, across the parking lot, you see a heavy set man in a suit sprinting from the shattered door of another motel room. The man appears to be carrying a child or small man dressed in an orange robe, who seems to be gesticulating in the direction of the room wildly. The two hop into the back of a black sedan, which peals away. You see a SUV pull up, passing the sedan, and hear another yelping cry from the motel room.
[El Skid, Peff, Captain Marcus]
"Alright guys, we'll swing by and pick up Mathew, and I'll get you guys out with some buddies of mine. They run a survivalist camp west of town. This is exciting guys, you guys really know how to make an entrance! Oh shit!"
The SUV pulls up to the motel room, and you all see the shattered door lying across the entrance. Inside you can see Mathew splayed and bloody on the ground among the shattered remains of his computer. His arm is bent at an unnatural angle, and a glowing symbol is marked into his forehead, glowing in that impossible not-color you've seen before. Mathew is convulsing badly. You can also see a number of curtains pulled back in other rooms, the other guests are curious.
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AegeriTiny wee bacteriumsPlateau of LengRegistered Userregular
I am going to continue to observe what is happening from my vantage point across the way, pulling out my gun and making sure it is reloaded as I do so. Did I see how many people wandered into the room?
"WHAT THE HE..." Javier notices Matthew laying across the ground "MATT!!"
Without waiting for his partners, maybe accomplices now, he grabs his med kit from the rear of the Jeep and sprints for the door of the hotel. He screams Matthew's name as he makes for the door, hoping for some sign of life.
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
"...Fuck." said Guy as he sprinted after Javier. He hoped Matthew was okay, but he hoped even more that nobody (or nothing) was laying in wait for exactly this reaction to their dirty deed.
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
Todt grabs some trash bags from the jeep and, running past Matt, quickly begins stuffing the computer remains inside.
"Scheisse! For God's sake, we've got to remove our things!"
[Aegeri]
You see 3 men in tattered, bloody, and dirty clothes rush frantically out of the truck and into the room. Two of the men crouch just inside the doorway, near a pair of feet from someone just out of site, the victim. One posts himself like a well trained sentry outside the room, with a huge pistol drawn. A fifth man with a large black beard stays behind the wheel while one of them begins throwing garbage bags and poorly closed luggage into the trunk. They're all sporting weapons of some sort, and look grim and exhausted.
[Captain Marcus, El Skid, and Peff]
While von Todt begins throwing the wrecked gear into the truck, the others run up to check on Mathew. Someone looks to have worked him over with some brass knuckles or a club, and he clutches frailly with his working arm at the familiar glowing symbol that seems to have been etched into his forehead.
Between spasms, he makes small spittle choked gasps and hisses, and you can see between his fluttering eyelids that his pupils have gone white.
While Ford takes a post near a column outside the door with his weapon drawn, you can hear him muttering something quietly to himself. In the corner by the bedstand you can see Mathew's pistol, likely knocked away by the intruders. The computer gear looks mostly ruined, but you can't be sure if its completely destroyed or only cosmetically damaged.
PsychoLarry1 on
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
edited February 2014
Guy swears and lets the medical professionals take care of Matthew.
Ensuring his gloves are tight on his hands, he gives Matthew's room a once over looking for clues about who might have done this, and to make sure there is nothing left to point to them when the police repeat the search in what will probably be an uncomfortably short period of time.
"O shit o shit o shit o shit" Javier mutters as he tries get Matthew stabilized. "Matt, MATT, MATTHEW" Javier starts quietly but quickly turns to screaming panic while slapping Matthew "Come on, open your eyes! GET UP!"
"Damn it, damn it, damn it" Javier throws open his kit, throwing some of the supplies from it in his rush. "Stay with us, damn you."
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
Todt sees the pistol out of the corner of his eye and grabs it. He continues frantically shoving the remains of the computer in trashbags and putting them in the Jeep.
"Jesus, Dr. Cubillio! Is he okay?"
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AegeriTiny wee bacteriumsPlateau of LengRegistered Userregular
Susan observes the commotion across the motel quietly and thinks about calling the police, but remembers her run in with the officers earlier this evening. They aren't prepared for what is happening here and probably wouldn't understand anyway. Perhaps a more direct approach could be warranted.
Susan is going to see if she can catch the make and license plate of the vehicle the men leave in.
Cubillo gives Mathew a dose of anti-convulsant medication and lifts him in a fireman's carry into the car. "Jesus fucking christ, shit," adds Mason, helpfully. Mathew's spasms calm gradually, and he falls into a sweaty, restless sleep.
Guy surveys the room as he wipes down the door knobs and other surfaces you likely touched. Nothing seems missing, but whoever did this clearly rifled quickly through all of your luggage, and smashed all of the tech they came across. With another fast glance around, von Todt and Guy chuck the trash bags of gear into the back of the truck. Mason wastes no time in getting you out of there.
Susan notes down the truck's make, model and plate #, but does not do anything to get involved before the group pulls briskly out of the parking lot.
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
"Scheisse! We need to find somewhere safe, and fast. Mason, do you know of any place we can rent? Someplace private?"
"Look, I can get you out of town till things calm down, but it's not gonna be a real comfortable stay. You've kicked in all kinds of shit, and no one is pulling punches, looks like. These guys I'm heading to, they're off the grid types, real rough and tumble dudes. Like, burn down DC sort of mentality. Mr. Stadler needs fuckin' medical treatment, and I don't think they're equipped to deal with brain surgery."
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
"Take us to them. We need to find somewhere to lie low. Then take Matthew to a hospital- the police will be looking for us, but not you."
Finding a moment of clarity, Javier takes a breath "I don't want to leave him, Kris...but if his best chance is there, then we may have to risk it. I really don't want to dumb him though."
Leaning forward in the seat, he addresses Mason "Can you take care of this? Anyone you can trust to do it?"
Mason simply grunts what sounds like an assent, his attention now focused on the police cruiser sitting at the adjacent lane. It's a long tense moment before the light turns and you continue on, but neither Mason or Ford seem to relax even slightly. The real stakes were sinking in, and everyone kept their guns close. Mathew remained unconscious, breathing with an occasional gasping hitch and whimper. The symbol on his forehead continued to glow dimly.
If nothing else, you all notice the white disappear from Mason's knuckles after he clears the city and heads off into the desert. Turning onto a county route, then onto a series of dirt roads, the truck takes a long winding route into the sparse hot nothing of rural New Mexico. The sky was turning an array of astonishing color, thankfully mundane, when the truck finally reached the compound.
Surrounded by a rough ring of barbed wire fencing, a pair of quonset huts flank an adobe shell of a house. A tarp covers the roof of the house, and you can detect the smell of barbeque in the air. From a pole by the front door, a flag hangs that looks like the New Mexico state flag, only the colors have been inverted: a pale yellow tribal symbol on a field of red. A hill about a hundred yards distant was spotted with broken bottles, hole ridden cans, and scorched earth.
A massive man, built like a linebacker with an impressive beard and short cropped hair, leans out of the windowless hole where a window once sat, and you can see the AK rifle resting loosely in his arms. "Listen," says Mason, "these guys are...touchy, but they'll put you up. You made enough trouble for the cops to get on their good side, for sure. Just uh," he gestures to von Todt, Javier, and Guy, "maybe try to keep those accents under control. Gimme a minute to clear the air, then I'll head back with Matt."
PsychoLarry1 on
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El SkidThe frozen white northRegistered Userregular
Looking at the assault rifle, Guy lets out a low whistle.
"Yeah,.. I seem to have suddenly lost my accent. I have no idea how that happened." he said, without even a hint of french coming through.
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Captain Marcusnow arrives the hour of actionRegistered Userregular
Todt slinks down even further in the bed of the truck, making sure his gun is concealed.
Posts
He collects a small vial of sludge off Guy's jacket, and then draws his pistol and enters the front door of the house.
"Steklo! Grebanyy steklo! Ublyudki slomal yego!"
"Vse vy, poluchit' eti idioty otsyuda!"
At least 6 voices can be heard shouting "Da!" in unison.
From over the rise, heavy assault rifle fire begins to slam into the roof of the house. Splinters spray out across the driveway and yard as slugs thud into the wood. The noise is almost deafening. Ford screams "We need to move! Get to the car! Covering fire!" and begins to fire from the car up towards the treeline.
As he see's him slide into the Jeep, he yells "TODT! COVER ME!" and without waiting for a response, Javier leaps from cover and huffs it to the vehicle.
The group puts up a field of fire as best they can, though it pales in comparison to the withering fire hail of bullets popping off from over the rise. Your rounds mostly puff into the dirt or smash into the treeline, but it's enough to sever a large limb, which drops into the unseen gunmen. As the car careens down the drive, you can hear a muffled curse. A parting slug glances off the hood of the Jeep, then you're clear.
"Russkies." Ford hissed. "Russkies in fuckin' New goddamn Mexico." He pauses for a long time as he brings the Jeep back to a normal speed in the neighborhood. "They didn't want us dead. Just gone. Otherwise, we'd be bleeding out in the dirt back there."
A pair of police cruisers goes screaming past the truck, sirens blazing. They don't appear to notice the damage to the vehicle, or slow to investigate.
Todt glances at the bullet holes in the side of the vehicle.
"Getting an intact car would be nice. It's a miracle we weren't stopped earlier."
He pulls into a strip mall and parks in a space in back, near an pair of rusting truck trailers. "If we're going to strip this thing down, we need to be incredibly thorough, and we're going to need time and privacy to do it. I have no interest in explaining to APD that I'm stripping down my Jeep because of a fucking Ruskie invasion. It's that or we stash this thing somewhere that won't draw any attention...In any case, who do you trust around here to get us new transpo?"
When everything is stripped, each man hefts a duffle bag of equipment. Ford pulls a brick of C4 from a hidden compartment in the back of the vehicle and fiddles with a detonator. "Never hurts to prepare." he says with a joyless grin. He places it against the dashboard and releases the parking break, as the rest give the car a shove to set it rolling.
The four of you move swiftly in the other direction, jogging up the embankment to Mason's waiting car. "Jesus shit Christ, you fuckers have been stirring up some hornets nests!" he says with a weak laugh. The police monitor in his truck is buzzing angrily about a shootout and search. "Desert is hot enough without all the heat you're dragging up." As if to emphasize his point, the explosives go off loudly far behind the fleeing truck, with any luck destroying any incriminating evidence. As the truck crosses the Rio Grande, Guy drops the trashbag full of plates and tags into the river.
Todt sighs.
"It's been a long day, Mason. Thanks for picking us up."
"I think we need to get everyone treated as fast as we can- if we can get people bandaged up well enough here we can do that, or else I can ask around and try to find a discreet clinic. We really need to decide what to do next- Do we concentrate on the transplant patients and hunt them down- maybe head over to Albuquerque to find that convict before the others do?"
Guy kicked a piece of garbage across the room. "Maybe we need more weapons too, judging by whatever those things with assault rifles were. Does anyone have any experience with other-worldly shit that might be able to provide some useful information? Is there something other than bigger guns that will help here?"
"I think we should go to ground for a couple days, get ourselves patched up, and definitely some more firepower. Anyone have an idea on where to hide out? I don't know if going back to the motel is a good idea."
Turning to Guy "Other-worldly...like find a medium or something?" Javier's eyes go glassy as he speaks the last.
Whether it was the suicide earlier, the long hours on the road, or just too much time around the kitsch of Roswell, you have a hell of a time focusing on your research. Sitting in the dingy motel room, you stare at a stack of books and notes, but the words on the page don't seem to stick in your mind at all. Finally, after several hours of idle flipping through your collection, you come across a symbol that looks remarkably like the one carved into the girl from this afternoon. Reading closer, you find a mention of the sign as that of Khasmarot, the Vast Crawling Doom.
You are pulling out a fresh note pad and begin to study further, when a crash and yelping cry through the walls draw you to your window. A short distance away, across the parking lot, you see a heavy set man in a suit sprinting from the shattered door of another motel room. The man appears to be carrying a child or small man dressed in an orange robe, who seems to be gesticulating in the direction of the room wildly. The two hop into the back of a black sedan, which peals away. You see a SUV pull up, passing the sedan, and hear another yelping cry from the motel room.
[El Skid, Peff, Captain Marcus]
"Alright guys, we'll swing by and pick up Mathew, and I'll get you guys out with some buddies of mine. They run a survivalist camp west of town. This is exciting guys, you guys really know how to make an entrance! Oh shit!"
The SUV pulls up to the motel room, and you all see the shattered door lying across the entrance. Inside you can see Mathew splayed and bloody on the ground among the shattered remains of his computer. His arm is bent at an unnatural angle, and a glowing symbol is marked into his forehead, glowing in that impossible not-color you've seen before. Mathew is convulsing badly. You can also see a number of curtains pulled back in other rooms, the other guests are curious.
Without waiting for his partners, maybe accomplices now, he grabs his med kit from the rear of the Jeep and sprints for the door of the hotel. He screams Matthew's name as he makes for the door, hoping for some sign of life.
"Scheisse! For God's sake, we've got to remove our things!"
You see 3 men in tattered, bloody, and dirty clothes rush frantically out of the truck and into the room. Two of the men crouch just inside the doorway, near a pair of feet from someone just out of site, the victim. One posts himself like a well trained sentry outside the room, with a huge pistol drawn. A fifth man with a large black beard stays behind the wheel while one of them begins throwing garbage bags and poorly closed luggage into the trunk. They're all sporting weapons of some sort, and look grim and exhausted.
[Captain Marcus, El Skid, and Peff]
While von Todt begins throwing the wrecked gear into the truck, the others run up to check on Mathew. Someone looks to have worked him over with some brass knuckles or a club, and he clutches frailly with his working arm at the familiar glowing symbol that seems to have been etched into his forehead.
Between spasms, he makes small spittle choked gasps and hisses, and you can see between his fluttering eyelids that his pupils have gone white.
While Ford takes a post near a column outside the door with his weapon drawn, you can hear him muttering something quietly to himself. In the corner by the bedstand you can see Mathew's pistol, likely knocked away by the intruders. The computer gear looks mostly ruined, but you can't be sure if its completely destroyed or only cosmetically damaged.
Ensuring his gloves are tight on his hands, he gives Matthew's room a once over looking for clues about who might have done this, and to make sure there is nothing left to point to them when the police repeat the search in what will probably be an uncomfortably short period of time.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it" Javier throws open his kit, throwing some of the supplies from it in his rush. "Stay with us, damn you."
"Jesus, Dr. Cubillio! Is he okay?"
Susan is going to see if she can catch the make and license plate of the vehicle the men leave in.
Guy surveys the room as he wipes down the door knobs and other surfaces you likely touched. Nothing seems missing, but whoever did this clearly rifled quickly through all of your luggage, and smashed all of the tech they came across. With another fast glance around, von Todt and Guy chuck the trash bags of gear into the back of the truck. Mason wastes no time in getting you out of there.
Susan notes down the truck's make, model and plate #, but does not do anything to get involved before the group pulls briskly out of the parking lot.
Leaning forward in the seat, he addresses Mason "Can you take care of this? Anyone you can trust to do it?"
If nothing else, you all notice the white disappear from Mason's knuckles after he clears the city and heads off into the desert. Turning onto a county route, then onto a series of dirt roads, the truck takes a long winding route into the sparse hot nothing of rural New Mexico. The sky was turning an array of astonishing color, thankfully mundane, when the truck finally reached the compound.
Surrounded by a rough ring of barbed wire fencing, a pair of quonset huts flank an adobe shell of a house. A tarp covers the roof of the house, and you can detect the smell of barbeque in the air. From a pole by the front door, a flag hangs that looks like the New Mexico state flag, only the colors have been inverted: a pale yellow tribal symbol on a field of red. A hill about a hundred yards distant was spotted with broken bottles, hole ridden cans, and scorched earth.
A massive man, built like a linebacker with an impressive beard and short cropped hair, leans out of the windowless hole where a window once sat, and you can see the AK rifle resting loosely in his arms. "Listen," says Mason, "these guys are...touchy, but they'll put you up. You made enough trouble for the cops to get on their good side, for sure. Just uh," he gestures to von Todt, Javier, and Guy, "maybe try to keep those accents under control. Gimme a minute to clear the air, then I'll head back with Matt."
"Yeah,.. I seem to have suddenly lost my accent. I have no idea how that happened." he said, without even a hint of french coming through.