[hr][hr][center][h1][color=662d91]Alexander Polawski[/color][/h1]
[img]http://78.media.tumblr.com/d3551e96a2b48077e262fa98f2e74ddc/tumblr_inline_nmuwekMscX1sj4qvu_250.gif[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b][color=662d91]Location:[/color][/b]What's left of The Meeting[/center][hr][hr]

Inside a cramped, but compact steel case couldn't possible be passed off as an excellent piece of cover for anyone in such a need. That, or just an over-sized and over-prized coffin for anyone unfortunate enough to be trapped inside it and not able to get out. For the old soldier his instinct and flashbacks to his training told him the first; inside the tank, Alexander had braced himself in the gunner's seat and held on tight for anything about to hit the tank. Whatever that anything was, he could only speculate afterwards as his combat instincts told him that a bomb, artillery shell or even a small nuclear bomb had been dropped behind the trees. 

But what about before? 

Alexander had noticed the sound of a large vehicle pulling up behind him just after he had tried to get contact with Lola and Thalia, but he couldn't possibly have expected what it actually was. Turning around to see the massive and heavily modified truck behind him and the tank, he jumped back - if he hadn't been standing in the hatch - and finally let his Chicago-accent be heard; [color=662d91]"Fockin' Christ wit' a badge'…"[/color]. His eyes shot from the two visible people in the steel-caged truck, one still inside and the other walking towards the others, and the two people he actually knew. Lola seemed no more fazed with this sudden appearance, and…

That was when the growling began. Like the distant thunder of carpet bombing of Viet Cong hideouts, it was a warning that something awful was happening to someone. That included them at the meeting. That was when he saw the mushroom cloud rise up on the horizon, giving him vivid memories of both the war he fought, and the war he feared would end it all. That was when he clambered down into the tank and hunkered it, prepared for the worst. 

He didn't see what happened, but the shouting and screaming was accompanied by loud noises of…cracking, big ones. The latter ones stopped. The yelling did not. It only escalated. Frightened screams, concerned shouting an cries of those around them. Alexander looked up through the hatch, waiting for the massive air-wave that never came, but hearing the New Zeelander's accented voice call out for him. They weren't dead, always a good sign.  He began to climb back out of the tank, pushing himself out of the hatch. [color=662d91]"Yeah…yeah I'm all right…God Allmighty…"[/color] The sight to behold was almost unbelievable, except that it had to be real. Massive cracks and gaps in the ground, large portions simply swallowed by the holes around them. [color=662d91]"What…what the fuck…"[/color]

But he didn't go back into his state of crying as before. No, enough tears appeared to have been shed already, while the others around him and the tank seemed to have their fair share of that taken care of. The soldier in him it would seem had come back to the grey-haired man, who climbed further out of the tank and stood on top of the turret, looking around him and their surroundings. [color=662d91]"I'm getting too old for this shit…[/color] The mushroom cloud appeared to be coming from a very familiar direction…

[color=662d91]"You okay Lola? Thalia? We can't stay here, and I guess we won't be going there either."[/color] Alexander said while descending the Stuart, making his way over to Lola and Thalia. But he couldn't ignore the woman shouting angrily at the massive hunk of a truck. Soldier? An order? Did any of that matter anymore? And would Alexander have to rejoin his past like that?