[color=cd7f32][center][h3]Hassan Ahmad[/h3][/center]

Hassan nodded at Eun Mi and Benjamin.

"Hope it's just a false alarm," he muttered, rushing to his [i]Jinn[/i] to make sure its batteries were charged. He began to plan ahead. Where would he even report to? Perhaps the ready room, perhaps one of the briefing rooms... maybe even the hangar proper?
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[color=7aa7dd][center][h3]Natalie Martell[/h3][/center]

"Room for one more?" Natalie ventured. It did not appear so, and it would have been inconvenient to decide which of the five pilots would have to hoof it.

"Go ahead! I'll hitch a ride!" She called out to the others. They had taken the window, but she decided that the stairs would be safer.

As she exited the building, pushing through the partygoers now confused by the wailing sirens, Natalie spotted an ice cream truck trundling along. She flagged it down and attempted to converse in the local language. It took longer than she hoped, but a quick flash of her military ID and the driver put two and two together and understood.

She hopped into the passenger's seat. The other pilots on their motorbikes would make it to base way before the ice cream truck, but it was still better than hoofing it. She tried to calm her nerves as her heart beat faster.

[i]It's happening again...[/i][/color]


[color=44bb44][h3][center]Mikhail Brukhanov[/center][/h3]

The wailing of sirens broke Mikhail out of his reverie.

"What could possibly be the problem?" He wondered aloud. He checked the standard issue communicator he was given. It was an immediate recall order.

Mikhail looked up, trying to find any transportation back to base, but this sector was deserted. He jogged along the length of the block and back, and was considering running back when a flash of motion caught his eye.

The young child from before was out of the building again, this time accompanied by an old woman leaning on a cane, dressed in a faded purple dress. She called out to Mikhail in the local tongue. He could just make out a few words: [i]Return fast?[/i]

He was surprised that she had figured out he was one of the garrison's pilots, then remembered he was wearing his military tracksuit. He nodded in response.

The old woman mumbled something under breath and motioned to Mikhail to follow her and he obliged. She led him to the staircase Mikhail had seen the young girl run up previously. The old woman pointed to the back of the stairwell.

Mikhail moved over and saw a bicycle, grey and dusty, leaning against the wall. Grinning he pushed it out onto the street, feeling the motion of the wheels. They were still smooth, and after shaking the frame he decided it was still sturdy enough.

Mikhail turned back to thank the old woman, but she was gone. The young girl was still there, looking at the bike this time. He waved goodbye and she waved back, before turning and running back up the stairs.

[i]I guess I've tarried long enough,[/i] he thought, and cycled back to base on the wobbling, creaking bicycle.
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