Although the day wasn't exactually sunny, it was hot. The landscape surrounding the small makeshift camp was dry, and in places bare. The surrounding hills were largley responcable for the limited view.
	From a small hillock, a Dalmatian and black and white cat watched the ground around them idellyfrom a foxhole, a dugout if you will. Neither of them were comftable in the midday heat.
	"Remind me again why I'm here. I have a odd desire to leave this outdoor oven." The dalmatian said, polishing his sleekly crafted repeter crossbow.
	"Simpe really, its easy money, and your broke. Thirty thousand, in Sterling. I'm not turning that down, and your obviously not either. Heck, if its gonna be like this we will have them at that there camp gone before the Cuban revelutionaries arrive." He said, looking as well as sounding bored.
	The Dalmatian Suppressed a laugh. "Heh, Cubans fighting Cubans. Frank, I'd sware this is a comedy to you."
	"It is at that." Frank muttered, as he reached to a long rectanguler, camoflaged box, and opened it. Inside was an immaculatly kept snipers rifle with scope, painted jet black. It had been used extensivly before, indicated by the painted over scratches and dents on it.
	"You know Ash, I couldn't bare to return this after they beat Germany. Ahh, the Nostalga. Wheres yours?" Frank asked.
	Ash raised an eyebrow. On the top of his head was a tweed trilby hat, and under that a small bandana. Looking at Frank, he replied. "I handed it in. Keeping one's illegal, you know that. A repeater with scope, thats all I need. That and a few specilised bold heads. And thirty Grand." Pausing for a second, he changed the subject. "Just out of curiousity, when, and if, we engage the Cubans, how do WE get out of here?"
	Frank grinned openly at his long time frend. "I.. Requisitioned... shall we say, a moterbike with side cab. Can you drive?" He politly asked.
	Ash looked at him square in the eye. "No..." He answered, his voice starting to get a bit edgy.
	"Ahh, good. At least there won't be a fight as to whom will drive."
	"You can drive a moterbike?"
	"No, certainly not a Morerbike."
	"No fear then..." Ash muttered. "How'd you get it here?" He enquired, looking around for the item in question.
	"Rode it. Learn fast."
	Ash paused in thought. "Then where IS it?"
	Frank dipped his Game Hunter style hat to some thick vegitation. "Always said I camo'ed better then you."
	A smile broke out on both faces. "So you say. But I shoot better." He slipped in.
	Frank looked at Ash suddenly with a face full of mock offence. "You do not! You may get quantity of shots, but I... I get the quality!" He spat back.
	Ash closed the verbal trap. "Yes, you might be able to shoot people in the balls surperbly, but this time we need to get as many as possibal. Speed. So, in this case at lest, I'm the better marksman."
	"How on earth he's gonna shoot anything with that thing..." Frank muttered.
	Ash turned his scope on the camp. There was little else to say: Not a lot was happening, and idle chit chat was about as exiting as things seemed to get. They both liked that better then the alternative.
	That camp itself was almost ready to be abandoned, the last few trucksbeing locked up. Garding the trucks was a Golden Retreaver, a red squirrel, and a German sheperd, all of which looked familier to Ash. They, much like The two on the hill, were in self stylaliedcombat cloathing, and looked bored.
	"Hey, you know, those guys look darn familier." Ash spoke.
	Frank chuckled a knowing humor. "They should be. It's our old pals. Captin Harris, Sam and Jack. Harris is the guy who pulled us together again."
	Ash put down the crossbow. "You serious? Sly old dog. The Cap does it again, eh?" Ash took up his scope again, and started to have a look at his old war pals.
	Over ten years hadn't taken much off them. The Golden retreaver, Captin Harris, loked his bulky self. Beleave it or not, its all pure muscle, and judgeing by his backpack and reputation as a heavy weapons expert, Ash guessed he had more explosives then you could shake a really fat stick at. He wasn't really a Captin anymore, after he left the Commando squads he lost his title, as what happens to every officer, but he was always called Captin in any case. As for Sam, he had done a good job at hiding his red furr, although he probably had difficulty with his tail. Both Sam and Jack served in the same company as Ash and Frank, and were trained snipers.
	Frank studied Ash, smiling. "Yeah, they are the escorts. Us? We do the grudge work."
	Ash looked back. "No dout your doing?"
	"After Aube," Frank replied, "I thik we can handle 'em."
	"We were lucky to survive Aube." Ash remarked dryly.
	"Year, well remind me not to do that again, eh?" Frank said, without any trace of humor.
	Silence once again fell as the two looked on, and reflected privatly.
	Soon enough the mosquitos gathered. The two ignored them, they neither had the time, nor the oppertunaty. There was significant movement in a nearby wooded area.
	"Why, hello there." Frank muttered. "Do you come here oftern?"
	Ash kept looking while he spoke. "You know, how do we know they are target? I sure as heck can't see them properly."
	Frank chuckled, keeping a malicious grin on his face. "I think I have a solution. Get cover, this should be fun."
	Ash, knowing Franks version of 'fun', groaned, and barracaded himself in the foxhole. Frank followed suit, but also got out a flare. After checking that everyone was ready, he lit the flare, and threw it infront of them.
	The flare resulted in two things. One, more immeiate, was the rapid finish to the camps evac, and the other was the attraction of who ever was in the woods.
	Shortly after lighting the crimson flare, Frank finished digging in. It proved to be a very wise thing to do.
	Ash noticed the flash first. It indeed came from the wooded place, right where the trees had moved.
	Immediatly after came a barly audiable noise, high in pitch, akin to someone whisteling one note. It rapidly got both louder, and deeper. Frank shouted what both of them knew it to be instictivly. "Rocket!"
	And so it was. Hurteling towards the foxhole like a torpedo in the sky, and screaming like a Banshee, the Rocket shot across the space relentlessly towards its end.
	It was now that Frank and Ash were more then thankful for digging in. When the rocket hit, it missed the foxhole by a few meters, such was the accuracy of rockets those days. The detonation, however, lit up the area in a deep red, and for a few seconds, both of the two man team were blinded, deafened, and stunned.
	When Ash could hear again, and the thudding pain he had died down, the first thing he heard was Frank shouting.
	"Got any stones to stop those?!"
	Looking at the fuzzy shape he assumed was Frank, he shouted his answer. "Let me think for a second... NO!!"
	The portable radio crackled behind them. It was Harris. "Guys, you there? What the hells going on? Guys? Frank, Ash, you alive?" He was almost yelling down the airwaves.
	Frantically grabbing at the transmitter, Frank broke the radio silence from the two. "Yeah, were alive. Watch it guys, they have heavy weapons!"
	After a pause, Harris' voice came through again. "We know. I've been calling you two for a short while now. You must have blacked out. Here, they have a rocket launcher, and they got into the camp with it. Got a surprise for them, so don't worry about more of that again." With that, he ended.
	Both Frank and Ash knew what to do. Getting the sniper rifle and repeater crossbow ready, they checked their scopes, which were undamaged, and scoped the base. Sure enough, the rocket launcher was positioned inside the camp, and there were a few grunts looking around. Sniffing where they wern't wanted. The trucks were gone compleatly.
	Spotting nothing else of intrest there, after all Harris was taking care of them somehow, the duo started scoping around. After a little looking, they both found a part of troops each, both heading their way.
	Frank grinned. "Looks like they wan't to see the 'weackage'." He chuckled.
	Ash was more grim. "Mabie, but my lots got two armoured Cars. I can get one, but I think we had better leave very soon..."
	Frank looked at Ash, then in the direction of his target, then at Ash again. "Spoil sport. Ok, let them know were here. Convoy trucks can't outrace Armoured Cars. Whadya say?"
	Ash didn't really bother to think. "Yeah, but lets get ready first. Start when Harris does whatever he's gonna do."
	Frank nodded, and loaded, before scrutanising his targets.
	Ash, in contrast, opened a small metal tin, and took out a large headed bolt, before fixing it to his crossbow.
	Satified with that he saw, Frank started to watch Ash fix the bolt.
	"Tell me, why that old thing? Guns are supossed to be an improvement on crossbows."
	With a small click, Ash finished. "Simple, I can add specilised bolts to this, its a repeater, and its quiet."
	Frank mimiced Ash. "Ohh, It's quiet. This can be too, see?" He picked out of his box a silencer, and added it to the rifle.
	"Heh, its funny really. Thats also obsolete. We should both get better items, you know." Ash commented.
	Frank summed up both their feelings. "Naa."
	Any other talk was drowned out by a low thunderuos rumble that shook through everything.
	Looking towards the sourse, the camp was obviously not going to remain. In almost every tent, marquee and building there was at least a small fireball, and the sceneappeared to be like an airstrike effect. An airstrike using 1000 pound bombs.The rocket launcher, and the troops in the camp had no chance, and were not even visable over the carnage.
	Frank grabbed at the Transmitter, shoulted "Thanks Captin!" and breifly looked at Ash, grinning.
	"Were on Kiddo." Ash stated.
	"Sure thing old man."
	Both look their posts. Frank started to line up and take their first shots, the silencer muffeling the shots from the rifle, and the crossbow clicking. Ash, looking down his scope, saw the two Armoured Cars travelling towards them slowly, flagging as they saw the multibal fireballs. Taking as careful an aim as he could, he lined up to the closer of the two, and pulled the trigger. There was the twang as the string shot, then the click as the crossbow loaded up the first normal bolt.
	He narrowly missed, disabeling the car, but not hurting the occupents much. The bolt exploded on impact infront of the Car,showing it with soil thrown up from the small crater that formed. Taking a potshot at the second Car, he watched as the bolt bounced off the window harmlessly, dilivering only a small crack to the reinforced glass. It picked up speed.
	"Uh... Frank, I think we had better leave." Ash suggested.
	Frank picked up the warning tone immediatl. "Sure, lets get outta here."
	They both got up, Frank grabbing two hand grenades of the fragmentation type as he slung his sniper rifleover his shoulder. Throwing the grenades to Ash, he got out a key. "I'm driving." He said, matter of factly.
	Ash looked stricken. "Thats it," He moaned, "I'm a dead dog."
	Frank led the way as fast as he could to the moterbike, which was indeed well camoflaged.
	By now the Armoured Car was clearly audiable.
	After tearing off the camo, Frank go on the bike, and Ash jumped into the sidecar. Both the crossbow and the rifle were put with Ash. 
	It wouldn't start first time. "It always does this." Frank joked, his tail starting to flick from side to side. The second time also failed, producing a sputtered cough as it did so. Franks tail was now darting from side to side frantically.
	Ash looked back. The Car seemed almost around the trees they were next to.
	"Comon!" Yelled a desperate Frank to the moterbike, and turned the key a third time, so vilently it almost broke. The bike again sputtered and coughed, with Frank pumping his paw on the accellerater. Finally it came to life, not quite purring, but at least working. Ash barly had time to pull his hat down to stop it from flying off when Frank skidded to a start, pushing the engine to its full. Frank was half screaming, half yelling over the cries of the engine. "Oh yeah! Were PROFESSIONALS!!"
	It was obvious from the start Frank couldn't drive to save his live. Literally. After skidding from left to right, he managed to get a bit of control from the bike. Frank himself looked like a Demon straight out of hell: Ears flat, and grinning more then a door to door's salesman.
	The Armoured car wasn't far behind at all. Moving stedily, the car was slowly gaining in the bike. The mashine gunner at the top looked on at his post, watching and waiting for a good shot.
	Either Frank was determined not to give him one, or he had lost control compleatly, but either way the bike began to swerve almost wildly. Ash really didn't want to know what Frank was doing; the answer would probably be too worrying. Istead, he got out one of the grenades, and pulled the pin.
	As Ash turned to face the Armoued Car and throw the grenade, Frank hit something. What it was neither of them would ever know, but it threw the bike into the air, and when it landed again, it broke up. Ash dropped the grenade, which thankfully flew away behind them before detonating. Ash was knocked breathless as he flew out of the sidecar, and Frank only managed "Oh, Cr-" before the grenade detonated. 
	The Armoured Car itself swerved, either to avoid the bikes wreackage as it landed, or to avoid whatever Frank hit. Or the Grenade. Again, nobody really knows, and the occupents would never tell, as the Car slammed straight into a tree.

	When Ash came to, he felt a warm liquid running down the side of his face. Not bothering about himself, he looked for Frank. He was sitting comftable nearby, tending his own injuries. Remarkebaly, Frank had got Ash's hat with him, and was wearing his own.
	Bits of the moterbike were littering the area, and a little way back the Car sat motionless, smoke drifting up from the crumpled bonnet.
	Frank finished tieing up a makeshift bandage before looking up. "Hey old dog, your alive and awake."
	Ash looked around astounded. "I'm alive?" He asked nobody in particular, before resting his eyes on Frank. "Oh, great. Your alive?!?"
	Frank put his ears back in freinged offence. "How dare you? After I safley dilivered you here? Some have no appreciation for good driving! I Even stopped our 'frends!"
	Ash growled. "Safe driving? Safe-? I'd rather face them lot back in the fox hole. THATS safer!"
	Frank muttered something before getting another rag. "Here, lets clean that cut. You look a mess. Again."
	After the face cut was cleaned, Ash spoke again, looking at the bandage on Franks left arm. "Hows the arm?"
	"I'll live. Got anything for it?" He asked.
	Ash picket up his hat, and put it on. "What do you mean?"
	"You know as well as I. Stones. I've been learning. Got any?" He retorted.
	Ash sighed. "Yeah, I got some. Malachite. Here, use it if you want, I'll do it the good old natural way." He threw a green banded stone to Frank that was in his pocket. Frank caught it in his good arm. "How we did that I have no idea." He observed.
	"Survived? Hey, its like I said, were professionals." Frank supplied.
	Ash snorted. "Professional? Heck no! We were anything but!" He said.
	Frank cut him down. "Details, details. Look, we better start moving before the rest come. Were to old dog?"
	"To the next camp I guess. We have five days untill they leave there." Ash informed Frank.
	"Thats useful. Where, dare I ask, is this camp? I never was one for memory." Frank enquired.
	Ash paused, working it out himself. "South. We can use the sun to navigate. We'd better go, eh amigo?"
	"South, eh? Better then north I guess..." Frank said
	"Whats bad about north?"
	"It's the wrong way."
	"Five days with nothing but you?" Ash began. "That'll be tough."
	Frank openly laughed as they set off.