The desert sun beat down brutally on the hot sand like a smith’s hammer upon an anvil from hell. It was at its peak, straight up in the sky. A lanner falcon circled lazily overhead and wondered what to make of the five people that had the audacity to intrude upon its domain.

They were of varying sizes and shapes and ages. All wore the same desert camo uniform from head to toe. They had helmets, and canteens, and assorted other gear strung about their persons. They also had guns, big black M16s and Colt Desert Eagle pistols at their hips.

They were asleep, and then they weren’t. One by one they slowly regained consciousness, stirring in the sand upon which they lay, up against the side of a tall dune.

Where the hell am I? The only female in the group thought as she looked around. She had no recollection of why she was out in the desert or even who she was. She looked around at the others stirring beside her. "Anybody know what happened?"

A slightly built man stirred and looked around. When he noticed the strangers around him his eyes grew wide and round. He screamed as he backed away from

"Guns! W-w-why do you all have guns?" the nervous man said as he absentmindedly cradled his M16.

A scream caused one of the other men to open his eyes. He had been awake for a few moments, but hadn't said anything. The fact that he didn't know who we was filled him with fear. Something poked him in the back but he endured it, too afraid to move and bring notice to himself.  He'd sensed the others, but some reflex made him wait until they stirred before doing anything. 

He sat up and looked around, shading his eyes from the sun. "That's a good question. But did you notice you also have one?"

The nervous man noticed the gun in his hands. He gave a yelp and tossed it away as if it may bite him. It landed butt-first and several rounds ripped off in a staccato burst before it fell on its side.  The reports echoed across the desert sand.

"Okay, let's all calm down", the nervous man said. "Can we all calm down? J-j-just calm down."

The woman rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Give me a break."

The large man sprang into action, ears ringing from the gunshots. One moment he was calmly dozing, surrounded in darkness and almost unbearable warmth, and the next he was in a tucked roll, sand spraying from his boots and shoulders. His heart was pounding in his chest, but not from fear. He felt alive.  His eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the 4 people as well.

The last mans eyes snapped open at the sound of the gunfire, hands clenching deep into the sand, legs jerking. He blinked, the sun dazzling in its brightness, the heat like a heavy blanket, his head snapping left, then right as he keyed in on the dropped gun, looking to see if... if... 

He pushed himself up, seeing the same look of confusion he felt on other faces. Men. A woman. Uniforms. He got lithely to his feet, muscles tense, ready to roll if more guns fired. "Who are you," he asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. A good voice, not too deep, but not high-pitched like the thin mans, or slightly nasal like the others. Voices were important. Appearance was important. He was a big man, heavy of jaw, square of chin. not the biggest man there, but close. Attractive. The woman was also very attractive. This was also important.  

Guns. Uniforms. Sand. Desert. Attractive. Concepts without connection. 

Who am I?

"Who are we?" the nervous man said as he rose to his feet. "I'll tell you exactly who we are. We're... Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm..." He was struck by the enormity of his ignorance. "Oh good gravy, this is bad. This is really, really bad."

"Whining about it isn't going to make it any better." She said disdainfully to the nervous man. "Do any of you remember who you are? For that matter do any of you remember what happened?"

"I'm 0 for 2 on those questions, I got nothing." the big man answered the pretty woman, assuming a more relaxed stance.

The attractive man looked at the others. Looked at the dunes. Nodded his head at what was being said. It was important to acknowledge things. He shaded his face with his hand and looked up at the sky, scanned the horizon. A bird. And the desert blue above to match the desert gold below. Connections were important. Connecting. "I... I don't remember my name," he said, looking away from the sky and looking around them. Looking at the sand. It was important. How did they get there? Tracks? Vehicles. He looked for tracks and vehicles. There had to be tracks. As he did this, his hands took their own inventory of the items on his body, searching for the thing that would soon be glaringly needed. 

Water. 

He found a large and more importantly full canteen slung across his torso.  It was heavy with water and sloshed when shook.  As for tracks, there were none.  The sand gave no signs as to how they got there.

Communication was important.

"Make sure you have water," he said calmly. Calm was important. "I'm going to climb the dune, see what's out there." Usefulness was also important. "Don't shoot the guns, ok? The situation is..."

What?

He shook his head, grinned, then began to climb the dune in a sure, side-stepping motion, sometimes falling forward to use his hands for stabilization when the sand began to slide. Rhythm was important. Cadence. Name. A name is very important. But there is no name. Nothing. But there is sand, and the situation. Coping was important, so he would cope. Seeing what was there was important. Seeing, not hoping or wishing. Seeing. The swish-swish of sand on his boots, a pleasant burning in his legs, and then he was close to the top, falling forward to scurry the rest of the way to the top on his belly. Maybe there was nothing. But caution was important. He stopped and listened. Overhead, the bird circled. 

The only sound was a sirocco breeze passing between the dunes and an occasional call from the bird above.  All around them in all directions but one to the horizon was sand.  The lone exception was a tall ridge of darker ground, probably rock, almost to the horizon directly on the other side of the dune they were up against.

Nothing. A journey ahead. 

The blonde man observed his ... what? They weren't his friends, how could they be, they didn't know him, they didn't know themselves, He didn't know them, he didn't know himself. He started to probe his memory of self, but shied away, almost instinctively. No, It was better to study the others, see what they needed him to be, and become that, yes. that was the plan. Who he was, didn't matter. Who he should be did.

Taking the handsome man's advice, the blonde man started taking inventory of the gear slung across his body.  Along with the uniform, boots, helmet, and tactical vest, he had the M-16 and a Desert Eagle in a belt holster.  There was a large heavy plastic canteen slung across his body resting at his hip.  He had an individual first aid kit in a deep pocket on his pants.  There were water purification tablets, sunglasses, earplugs, a collapsible spade, one beef ravioli MRE, a tube of SPF-30 sunblock, and a solid-looking flashlight that could be underslung onto his rifle.

The large man had watched as the handsome man made his way up the dune, then noticed the blonde man doing inventory and got distracted. He began checking his own pockets and such, forgetting about wanting to climb the dune also. By the time he was finished, he was taking a step towards the dune it was too late.

The handsome man scooted back down the side of the dune, searching through pockets until he found sunglasses, which he put on. Better. "Line of rock a good distance off to our... our..." 

He looked up, the sun was directly overhead. Not helpful. Not helpful.

"That way," he pointed, once he'd joined the others. Sweat rolled down his back.

Not good.

"No sign of habitation far as I could see. No tracks either. We've either been here long enough for the sand to settle, or..." he shrugged, moving over to where the discarded rifle lay, then picking it up. He shook the sand off of it, then went to hand it back to the nervous man. "You may not like it, but it's yours. We may need it, so you'll need to carry it, ok?" The rifle's muzzle pointed towards the sky, the butt towards the ground. His voice was friendly but firm. Establish a connection. Connections were important.

He could imagine hearing the sand sizzling under his boots, watched as heat twisted the air into shimmering curtains all around them. Looked at their faces, checking for burns. His hands. Establish a timeline. Timelines were important. 

"Are you in charge?" the nervous man asked the handsome man. "I mean, that's okay with me. Don't get the impression I'm not okay with it, because I'm okay with it. I'm an easy dog to hunt with, if you know what I mean." His nervous laughter came out as a snort. 

The handsome man considered this, rifle still held out for the taking. "I don't know," he replied softly. 

Not knowing is not good. Not good at all. 

The nervous man reclaimed his rifle and held it gingerly as he wondered if he ever knew how to use the thing.

The woman came over and took it from him and then took his arm and slipped in through the strap until the rifle was slung on the nervous man's back. She felt a lot safer with it out of his hands. Turning to the handsome man she said. "Someone needs to take charge and you seem competent enough."

This made his heart beat faster. Competancy was good. Required. Good. Yes. She was attractive. 

"Ok," he said with a shrug.

The blonde man slipped his own sunglasses on, sighing with the relief from the sun's glare. He took a small swig from the water, wincing at the lukewarm liquid and plastic taste it left in his mouth. "Did you see any shade? We need to get out of the sun."

"Might be a ridge line we could use."

The blonde man looked at the other two, the attractive female and the large muscular guy. "What do ya say we head to the ridge he spotted, make some shade and see if we can't figure some stuff out?"

Following the example of the others, the woman put on her sunglasses. She also squeezed some of the sunblock from the tube and applied it to her exposed skin. "Sounds as good as anything else at the moment."

"Anywhere is good, standing here baking like a rock is torture. If we are going to go, let's move." he slipped his own glasses on, and secured everything as best he could. He also went to check where he had been laying in the sand to be sure nothing had fallen out of his pockets. Not being able to remember was a bitch, he'd hate to leave anything behind because he didn't remember he had it in the first place.

"OK," called the handsome man to everyone, pointing off towards the ridge. "Our goal is a ridge out that way. Going to be a long walk so conserve your water folks. Keep eyes out, and call out if you feel dizzy or need help." 

Being helpful was important. Being in charge was everything.

He shouldered his weapon and began to move up the dune again.

The nervous man put on his sun glasses and followed the handsome man. "Oh, I don't like this at all."

"Do you think any of us do?" The woman asked impatiently. "If you don't have anything useful to add than why don't you just keep your mouth shut."

The nervous man had just about as much abuse as he could take. He walked up to the attractive woman, looked her in the eye in a way he hoped was impressive and thought of a comeback... and he thought... and he thought.

"Oh, yeah?" he finally said.

"You're pathetic, you know that?" The attractive woman answered.

"Now's not the time, people. Figure it out later if you have to," said the handsome man sharply, stopping at the top of the dune and looking back.  "But for now, we go. Alright?"

The large man walked past the nervous man and the attractive woman, giving the nervous man a good natured slap on the back, which might have been a bit over enthusiastic. "Why don't we just get to the ridge." he smiled at the woman, and started off in the direction of the ridge. After a few steps, he felt like going faster so he did. He felt good moving again, standing and talking was ok, but moving towards a goal felt better.

He watched the people below, mind already sorting and categorizing all they'd said and done so far, profiles beginning to form, however rudimentary they might be. Profiles were important. Profiles lead to plans. He was in charge. 

In Charge was a good place to be. He turned and headed off across the desert, face carefully composed. 

The attractive woman turned to follow the handsome man. So far he had been the only one to come up with anything useful and she didn't have a better plan. Though she hoped they found a way out of the situation soon. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to put up with the nervous man and his whining.

The quintet had trekked about ten minutes at best before the nervous man began to get a feeling that something very bad was possibly going to happen.  It was a feeling that started in his toes and ran straight up to tingle his scalp, just a general sense of 'oh shit'. His flight instinct wanted to send him in all directions at once, prompting a manic, arm waving, panic dance.

"Hit the deck!" the nervous man shrieked.

The blonde man, who was bringing up the rear so he could observe the others, dropped to a knee and slung the M16 off his shoulder, where he'd hung it in imitation of the others. He wasn't sure if he was holding it right, if it was loaded or ready to fire, but at least he had it ready.

He fought to keep his hands still and the fear he would mess up and cause someone to get hurt filled him. He gripped the weapon tightly and scanned his surroundings wondering what on earth the nervous man was shreiking about.

The attractive woman turned to look at the nervous man and rolled her eyes once again. "What are you whining about now?" 

The handsome man dropped like a stone, eyes scanning the horizon, the sky, the ground all around, trying to look everywhere at once to determine the incoming threat. He saw the dancing man, saw the attractive woman looking at him with exasperation, saw the blonde man readying his weapon. 

A small part of him was noting each action, each response. The larger part was very much hyped up on a flood of adrenaline and wanted a drink of water and some time alone with the attractive woman. 

The large man tensed up and spun around. He saw the little nervous man flailing about, but he couldn't see what had gotten him all worked up this time. He sighed and dragged a hand across his forehead, flicking the sweat into the sand. "What is going on?"

"Hit the deck!" The nervous man shrieked again before dropping to a prone position and hiding his head under his hands.

ssssssssssssssSSSHSHSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH............ BOOOOOOMMMM

The ground under them shook madly with an explosion that sent a fountain of sand shooting up into the sky to quickly cascade down around them.  There was a blast of heat and the force wave knocked them silly for a moment.

"What'd I tell ya? What'd I tell ya?" The nervous man screamed from a fetal position.

The *whiisssssss* of raining sand, the grit in his eyes and the whine in his ears were not good. This was a failure, and he'd figure out who and why and how later, but for now... he wiped the sand out of his eyes and took a quick headcount, trying at the same time to see what had hit them. The handsome man kept his belly flat on the ground and hoped that everyone was all right. 

The blast had knocked the attractive woman from her feet and she was spluttering sand out of her mouth and trying to wipe if from her eyes. "What the hell was that?"

The large man's head throbbed angrily as he scrambled to a crouched position and picked his sunglasses up from the sand. His hands shook as he put them back on, he was starting to get angry. He was already somewhat agitated because he didn't know who he was, or where he was, now this mess was happening.  He scanned the area, looking for a dune or some sort of high ground to get a better view from.

The blonde man moved gingerly, testing to make sure he hadn't broken anything. He did a quick check of the weapon to make sure he hadn't inadvertantly caused the explosion. He was pretty sure he didn't do anything but point the M-16, but anything was possible. He felt sure it would have been just his luck to screw up and nearly kill everyone.

Once he was sure everything was basically the same as it was before the explosion, minus the extra sand of course. He returned his attention to his surroundings, inching closer to the nervous man as he did so.

"Dude. How'd you know?" He whispered hoarsely to the nervous man. The blonde man felt an overwhelming need to make connections with his companions, but he didn't really have anything to work with yet. He figured though that the nervous man was a good place to start. If he could figure out what the nervous man needed to balance himself out, that would probably keep the pretty woman from being annoyed, which would certainly give him an opening there.

The handsome man seemed to like being in charge, and less tension in the ranks would make that easier. Untio they figured things out, getting close to the nervous man and keeping the rest happy seemed the safest way to pull his own weight in the group. The only way he'd have anything to contriubte that is.

Besides, if the nervous man could predict danger, he'd be a good person to be close to.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" the nervous man cried. "I don't even know what happened that I knew was going to happen! What's going on here?"

ssssssssssssssSSSHSHSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH............ BOOOOOOMMMM

Another explosion struck, stunning them all.  This one left a crater somewhat further away from them and to the opposite side as the first.  More sand hissed around them as it rained down.  The blasts kicked them in the chest like a mule, except for the largest of them.  To him, the impact was a significant shock but not quite as bad as the first.

The attractive man gritted his teeth in frustration and pain. Where in the holy hell was this coming from?! They had to get moving, but not until he could find out where they needed to move to! "LOCATION?! Where's it coming from!?" he shouted out, unsure if anyone could even hear him. He tried to catch a glimpse of anything coming at them from the sky, it had to be coming from the sky. Could be mines, triggered by remote, but unlikely in the shifting sands. He tried to see, scanned the horizon as best he could, scurrying up the dune to try and get a better look. 

He wasn't sure if it was because he was not as surprised as he had been for the first blast, or if the second blast was further away but this one didn't have the same punch as the previous. He looked around, his companions, if that's what they were, seemed okay.  Seeing the handsome man scaling a dune, he picked a dune opposite that one and made his way up also.  He found the climb to be easy, much easier than the last dune he's climbed.  The sand still gripped at his feet but his legs had found a strength, possibly born of adrenaline, that made the steps seem much less arduous than before.

Both men reached the top of their dunes and scanned around feverishly for any sign of the source of the explosions.  Both men stopped scanning and settled on the rock ridge which was their destination.  A small puff of white smoke, just a dot near the horizon but steadily moving off to the right, was lazily drifting from a point near the ridge's crest.

Of course. Perfect.

The handsome mans mind was humming now, frameworks for the situation he found himself being constructed like the stones of a labyrinthine maze. He needed more information, needed to fill in the massive gaps that seemed to be impacting them all. The nervous man had seen the missiles coming, or sensed them somehow. This was important. 

The attractive woman and the big man were either not paying attention to the nervous man, or had dismissed him entirely. That they had not dropped when the warning cry had come was important. He filed this away for later review. "From the ridge!" the handsome man called out. "It's coming from the damned ridge!" 

"Then I say, all the more reason for us get to it. We just have to figure out how to get there without being blown up." The attractive woman wanted answers and she didn't care how they got them. The problem would be getting them without getting killed in the process.

"Oh, that's a great idea," the nervous man said. "Let's get closer to the people trying to kill us. Why don't we paint bullseyes on our chests while we're at it?"

"You have a better idea? Or would you like to stay out here until we run out of water?" The attractive woman asked. "We need answers and at the moment I don't see a better option."

The blonde man tried to look everywhere, but ended up bouncing his gaze between the nervous man and the attractive woman. The tension was getting palpable. He needed to do something. "You're both right. It's dangerous to stay and it's dangerous to go, but we don't have a choice. There's no other shelter in sight, and they might have answers. We're armed, maybe we can figure out how to use the weapons before we get there. That would make it less dangerous. But staying here isn't going to work, they are getting closer with whatever they are using." 

The large man had been watching the people , while keeping an eye on the ridge where the plume of smoke had been. There was some serious tension between the nervous man and the hot lady which might be a problem soon

"Thank you." The attractive woman was glad not everyone she was with was as cowardly as the nervous man. If it was up to him they would all die of thirst because he thought it too dangerous to do anything more then huddle on the ground.

"We spread out, we hit the ridge as quick as we can," the attractive man stated, sliding back down the down. "At least fifty feet apart, move in a zigzag. Regroup at the ridge, on me. Let's go people." 

That said, he turned and headed out into the sand. They'd come or they'd stay. That too would help him see the patterns. He grinned despite the circumstances, sand gritty in his mouth and sweat rolling down his back. For some reason he felt very very alive. And that was important.

A man after my own hearth. At least I think he is. The attractive woman thought as she slipped her rifle off her back and followed the attractive man keeping distance between them as he suggested.

The large man pumped his fist in the air, now they were doing something! He took a drink from his canteen, moistening his mouth, and re-capped it tightly before he took off towards the ridge as fast as he could. He was so excited to be moving, he almost forgot he wasn't supposed to make a straight line directly to the ridge, and he started cutting left and right, boots digging into the sand.

The blonde man stood and offered his hand to the nervous man. " C'mon, We stay here and we're dead. The best chance is to move. I'll bring up the rear." 

The nervous man's eyes were wide with panic. Attacking the ridge was a stupid thing to do, but staying put seemed doubly stupid. He screwed up his courage, placed a fierce expression on his face, cried out with a screeching war cry, and , eschewing the blond man's offered hand, rushed over the dune.

The blonde man smiled and moved after the nervous man. He was pleased at the man's courage. The blonde man wished he actually had as much courage as the others. Hopefully, if he acted as if he was brave, then eventually he would become brave. 

The blonde man kept the distance the handsome man had suggested, struggling through the sand in a serpentine route.  He kept his weapon off the shoulder, and kept taking glances at it trying to get a good handle on how to use it.

ssssssssssssssSSSHSHSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH............ BOOOOOOMMMM
 
Another explosion struck beyond the far end of their skirmish line where the handsome man had veered off to spread them out.  His teeth rattled in his skull and he was thrown down hard onto the sand.  Whomever was firing on them had started to walk their fire back, trying to match their movement.  Lucky for them they were terrible shots, but at such long range that was too be expected. 

As he spit sand out of his mouth, he and the rest picked up a new sound.  At first it was easy to mistake for the ringing in their ears from the explosions but soon the sound of a small but powerful propeller engine was distinguishable in the sky.  A few moments later a drone aircraft flashed across the skies over their heads.  It continued on past them and then suddenly broke left and wheeled on a wide arc back towards them.

The handsome man laughed. Then he plucked the radio off his belt, rolled to his feet, and kept running, his mind presenting a series of steps he knew were required to make the thing work. He laughed again, spitting sand, legs burning with effort as he pounded across the sand. Was it even on? He checked as he ran, saw that it wasn't, and felt a surge of anger. He should have checked. 

He should have checked. Checking was important. 

He clipped the useless thing back on his belt, grabbed his rifle and rolled down the next dune. He'd take a shot at the damned drone thing, if only out of spite. One shot, then he'd run again. 

The drone was turning around. The nervous man was sure it was coming back for him, specifically for him. He had a gun. He had a gun full of bullets. He should fire every single one of those bullets at the drone, and scream. He should scream as loud as he could. It was a war cry, that's it, It was a shrill, girlish war cry.

Another explosion rained sand from the sky, and as an added bonus there was a drone circling back towards them. If it was possible, things might have become worse. "Who are we, and why does someone want us dead so badly?" the Large man thought to himself, as he dipped his right shoulder down and veered off in a different direction. As he did, he looked over his shoulder quickly getting a peek at what his companions were doing.

What the hell is going on? The woman thought as the drone headed back toward them. The only thing she had on her that might stop it was the gun and that only if she hit it in the right spot. But she didn't have much choice. She stopped running took careful aim and fired.

The blonde man shook himself off. There was sand everywhere. inhis hair, his mouth, down the back of his shirt. Iclumped in the rivulets of sweat that poured down his back under the uniform top and vest and overall he was miserable. He didn't know who he was, where he was, why he was there, or anything really, you know, relevent. On top of that, he was with a group of people in exactly the same situation and another group of people were trying to kill them, yet another huge unknown in a day of unknowns.

At least he wasn't alone. That would suck. The blonde man, flipped the switch he noticed earlier from the dafe position, and imitated the attractive woman's stance, aiming at the new threat. "Hell of a day at the beach, eh?" he quipped before squeezing the trigger.

The handsome man's radio crackled to life.  The voice in the speaker held a heightened sense of urgency.

**I repeat, this is Eagle Alpha to unidentified element, identify yourself immediately.  Do you read, over.**

The staccato bass of two M-16s firing into the air permeated the desert air once more.  Each fired a three-round burst at the drone and neither hit paydirt.  The drone, however, waggled its wings and then veered off towards the ridge.

The voice on the radio was now downright agitated.  **Eagle Alpha to unidentified element, hold fire! I repeat, hold fire!**

The nervous man dropped his weapon, raised his hands and shouted toward the ridge. "It was an accident!"

The handsome man skidded to a halt in the sand, hands gritty on his weapon. He looked down at the little radio with surprise, then plucked it to his mouth, one hand still grasping his rifle and eyes still on the drone. "You are Eagle Alpha? You are on the ridge? Confirm?", he said calmly, if a little out of breath. 

The woman wiped sweat from her brow and looked the attractive man ready to let him take the lead as long as he didn't do anything as stupid as the nervous man had. Like hell it was an accident. Whoever was on that ridge had fired at them and she was damned if she was going to take the blamed for it. At least the attractive man seemed capable enough. The verdict was still out on the other people she had found herself with.

The blonde man chuckled softly at the nervous man's antics. "Dude, calm down. You didn't fire, We did. Grab your weapon though. The drone may be friendly, but I wouldn't count on it. We'll be okay, okay?"

The blonde man didn't really believe his words, but he put as much confidence in them as he could muster. The attractive woman had a live weapon and was annoyed at their companion. This could end badly if the tension increased. 

The blonde man tightened his grip on the weapon as he tracked the drone. The kick from it when he fired had surprised him. It wasn't strong, but enough that he wasn't really prepared for it. Perhaps if he braced it against his shoulder it might actually be easier to aim when he fired next. He kept the thought inhis mind as he maintained his position and waited for an idea of what they were going to do next. 

ssssssssssssssSSSHSHSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH............ BOOOOOOMMMM
 
Another shell hit, this time taking the top of the dune where the woman and blonde man had stopped to fire at the drone.  Both of them were tossed up in the air and off to opposite directions.  They cartwheeled uncrontrollably in the air and landed hard at odd angles. 

(GM: Heatwave and Darren, you're CON stunned and deaf.)

The others hard what sounded like distant thunder rolling across the desert.  Two fighter jets, flying in tight formation, could be seen maybe a mile off as they flashed across the blue sky at low altitude towards the ridge.  The drone had climbed to a higher altitude and started slowly circling the entire area.

The nervous man switched on his radio. "Hold your fire! Hold your fire! For the sweet love of god, hold your fire!"

The handsome man beat a path towards his downed people, heading for the woman first. Being helpful was important. "Cease fire, cease fire, situation is confused.", he panted into his radio, then "Stop shooting!", this a yell to his... team? "You," he yelled out, pointing at the nervous man. "Check him," he stabbed a finger at the downed blonde man. "Now!" 

Gunfire from behind had drawn the large man's attention just in time to see the latest explosion and the two of his companions short flight and hard landings. It seemed the accuracy of the people bombing them was getting better, and they were sending more heavy hitters in. Chaos was taking over very quickly, the handsome man seemed to be yelling at everyone, and into his radio. The large man reached down to flip the switch on his own radio, and started running to check on the blonde man.

The woman lay there trying to regain her senses. The world was silent around her and she wondered how badly she was injured but for the moment she thought she would just lie there.

The fighter jets screamed violently as they made a minor course change towards the ridge.  They flashed over it like lightning and moments later the entire top of the ridge was transformed into hell on earth.  Massive churls of red and orange fire bloomed from right to left following the fighter jets' passage and rolled up into the sky.  A wall of thick black smoke rose from the desert like some demonic efreet from the local mythology.

Secondary explosions could be heard popping as they added their sounds to the symphony of destruction.  The pair of jets cut a sixty-degree turn on a dime in perfect formation and roared off towards the horizon at breakneck speed.

The handsome man and his large companion found the woman and blonde man respectively to be dazed and confused but otherwise possessed of only minor wounds, mostly from the brutal tossing.  The drone continued to circle overhead as their two radios spoke to them once more.

**Unknown element you are now designation Variable-One-Six.  Remain at your present location for extraction.  ETA six minutes.  Do you copy?**

"Copy," the handsome man replied. Extraction. But to where, and by who? Six minutes. He watched the ridge burn, wondering who had been on it, and what they'd done to deserve their fate. "Six minutes!" he called out to the others. "We're being evacuated in six minutes!" He stayed by the woman's side, noting that the large man had checked on the other fallen... soldier?... as well. Good. Teamwork was important. 

"How did you know," he called out to the nervous man. "You knew. How?" 

"I don't know," the nervous man said as he tremulously rose to his feet. "I just had a feeling that something real bad was going to happen. Of course, I always have a feeling something bad is going to happen, but that's just a general feeling of crushing doom. You know, like everyone has. This was different, though. This was really, really specific."

The large man was still crouched over the blonde man, alternating checking the sky and keeping an eye on his fallen companion. "Well, we have 5 minutes or so left, if you start gettting that feeling again, let us know.  I would hate to have this dune turn into that ridge over there." he gestured towards their original target.

"Time to get up, if you can," the handsome man said to the woman, offering her a hand. She looked a bit dazed, but otherwise unharmed. This too was important. 

She took the proffered hand and let the handsome man help her to her feet. She was sore all over from being tossed around like a rag doll but thought she could manage. "That was a bit too close for comfort." She said a bit louder than necessary. The handsome man nodded. "Yeah." He thought about this some more. "Something's off, but I don't know what." This was important. Missiles in the desert, and a plane to guide them. Shouldn't have missed. Shouldn't have missed, but did miss. Incompetence or something else? 

The blonde man shook his head, trying to regain some semblence of co-herent thought. IF only the ringing in his ears would stop. The large man hovered over him protectively, which was in itself interesting. The blonde man looked around and could see the people talking, but the ringing in his ears prevented him from catching anything but a low murmur.

"Well, Damn!, That was some ride, eh?" He said to the large man in a voice way to loud for their proximity. "Good thing they're a lousy shot!" The blonde man moved gingerly testing his limbs for damage. It would just figure that he'd be the one to be injured and slow the group down. He couldn't afford that. If they left him behind he didn't know what he'd do. probably die in this unknown desert, without learning a damn thing about what brought him here, who he was, or why he couldn't remember anything. 

The blond man was moving and talking, albeit a bit louder than was necessary. That was a good sign. The large man reached a hand down to help him to his feet. "We are being extracted in 5 minutes, you need to be ready, ok?"

The blonde man stuck a finger in his ear and swished it around in a vain attempt at regaining some hearing. "Eh?" He shouted, "Can't hear a blasted thing, except that damned ringing!" ?

(GM: Feel free to continue conversing until...)

They were seen before they were heard, starting as a dot on the heat-twisted horizon which morphed into three helicopters.  The rhythmic thwup-thwup of baffled rotors grew in intensity as they approached.  The center vehicle looked like a troop transport while the other two flanking it were clearly assault birds loaded for bear, short wings heavy with ordinance.

The attack copters flared out and then settled into slow sideways motion, circle-strafing the five people on the ground from a good distance but always facing them, ready to shoot.  The transport's pilot swooped in and settled his craft down upon the sand with amazing gracefulness and skill not ten meters from the quintet.  Immediately, six U.S. Marines jumped out of the open side.

Two ran out behind the group and had their rifles up as they scanned quickly for threats.  Another two broke left and right out the door to do the same.  The other two stayed by the chopper.  One eyeballed them hard with his rifle ready but not pointing at anything in particular.  The other stepped forward.

"Let's go!" he yelled over the rotor noise and whipped-up sand.  "Move!"

The handsome man looked at his team, (my team), and then nodded and moved. 

The woman hesitated. She didn't like the idea of going with the people who might have been trying to kill them just minutes before. Watching the handsome man going with them without question she waited to see what the others would do.

The large man stood and followed the handsome man.  He still had no idea what was going on, but at least they wouldn't be getting bombed, hopefully.

People were starting to get on the chopper. The nervous man didn't want to be left in the desert alone, so he got in line behind the large man.

The blonde man was impressed by the display of technical precision as the vehicles performed their aerial dance. The way the similarily dressed strangers took position with practiced and resumanly deadly ease made him feel even more inadequate than he had. He was positive none of these people would have missed the drone or gotten nearly blown up.

The blonde man mimiced the stern, yet impassive expression of their rescuers and moved after the others towards the grounded helicopter. He tried to move as efficiently as the new comers had and made an attempt to appear as hypervigilant as they were.

The people she had awoken with were all fools. They were being fired upon just a few minutes ago and now they were blindly going with who knew who without question. Still, she didn't want to be left in the desert by herself. She supposed going with they men in the chopper was the better alternative. She got into line after the others.

As soon as she bad boarded the Marine that had spoken yelled "Saddle up!" and twirled his finger in the air.  The other Marines walked backwards to the door never taking their eyes off the horizon and then they, too, quickly jumped into the helo.

As soon as the last man stepped onto the deck, the speaking Marine turned towards the pilots and barked, "Let's go!" before turning back to quickly inspect the five new passengers.  His eyes settled eventually on the handsome man.

"Who's your lead?" he asked.

"I am,' the handsome man replied loudly. The sound of the blades and the engine wasn't overwhelming, but it was pretty fierce. The lead. In charge. Yes. Yes! His eyes searched everywhere, categorizing everything. Name tags. Body language. Equipment, both in use and stowed. The condition of the equipment and of the men. Everything poured into the huge pool of nothing that was his memory and latticed out, connections based on assumptions based on guesses. A shoddy house, not even a house of cards, but a house of soap bubbles. 

He woke up not knowing who he was, lost in the desert, being bombed by someone, for reasons he didn't know, and finally rescued by some military people. This shit was driving him crazy, so the large man looked at the speaking Marine and started asking questions.

"Who are you guys, and why did  you rescue us? Who were those people at the ridge and why were they dropping bombs on us? Where are we going?"

"And do we have to fly so high?" the nervous man asked as he stared wide eyed at the ground far below.

It was all the handsome man could do not to roll his eyes. He kept his face neutral and waited for the marine to reply, either to him or to the other man. Still, the larger mans questions were noted and added to the profile the handsome man was building of them all. 

Large Man: open. gives information freely. doesn't observe, asks instead. reacts instead of acts.  
Woman: dismissive. quick to anger. argumentative. judgmental. 
Blonde Man: watchful. says little. appears to be helpful. understands team dynamics
Nervous Man: out of his depth - or an amazing actor. able to process danger quickly - too quickly. 

Very little to go on, but it's what he had for now. 

The Marine had his mouth open to start talking when the fusillade of questions hit.  He paused, eyes darting back and forth from the handsome to the larger man, and then refocused on the former and started loud-talking answers over the rotors' din.

"Sergeant Jones, Second Platoon, Recon.  I have orders to evac you to Tallil Airbase."  He turned to the man on his left.  "Bat 'em."

The other Marine drew out a smart phone with a hardcore protective covering.  He held it up between himself and the handsome man for a moment as if he were taking a picture and then he held it down to work the screen for a moment.  His eyebrows went up and he slid the device sideways to the Sergeant to see. 

The sergeant sighed and looked up at the five people he'd just picked up as if he wasn't sure what to make of them.  The Marine with the smartphone started taking pictures of the others, starting with the woman. 

"Something happened," the handsome man shouted back. He pointed at Jones uniform, at the name tag there above his right pocket, and then at his own uniform. "We woke up out there but without identification. Don't even know our own names. Don't know why." 

It was going to come out, so best to control the information flow now, at the start. 

"You asked who was in charge a second ago. I said me. That's as true as anything at the moment until whatever happened to us wears off and we start remembering again." 

The one Marine's raised eyebrows and the other's sigh didn't go unnoticed by the woman and she was willing to bet they knew something about who they were even and why they were out in the desert. "What did you find on us?" She asked the Marine with the phone.

"I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that question," the nervous man said.

"Fine, you can stuff your ears or something while the rest of us get some answers." The woman replied.

"I just know I'm going to wind up being married to you," the nervous man said. "Dear god, I can feel it in my bones."

"The world wouldn't be so cruel." The woman said.

The blonde man smiled at the nervous man and attractive woman. Their banter was certainly amusing, when they weren't running for their lives. He looked at the Sergeant. "Thanks for the assist." He kept his tone gruff and professional, like the sergeant's, hiding the immense relief he felt at not being shot at. "What's at Tallil?"

"Talil Airbase," the sergeant replied.  "Best we wait until we arrive."

The man with the smartphone had completed taking pictures of everyone and once more showed it to the sergeant, who nodded.  "Keep trying," he said to the Marine with the phone before he turned and ducked into the cockpit area to grab a headset and make a call.

The woman was not happy their questions weren't being answered, especially hers. "What's the problem? You found something, I . . . we'd like to know what it is." She said to the Marine with the phone.

The blonde man shook his head. The attractive woman was impatient, and demanding. He wanted to explain that it was probably a lack of information that was concerning their groups rescuers, why else would the sergeant say to keep trying? However, the blonde man held his tongue. It wasn't his place to say anything, considering he was probably wrong anyway. 

The blonde man turned to the nervous guy. "If you get any more fo those 'feelings' let me know ok? It could very well mean the difference between life and death." The blonde man nodded his head towards the attractive man. "He believes you too. Just don't hesitate, seconds count, ok?"

"You mean if I get a sharp feeling of impending doom I shouldn't keep it to myself?" the nervous man asked. "Don't worry about it. You'll know."

The large man kept his eyes on the men who were looking at the device, occasionally looking towards the cockpit to see if the sergeant was coming back. It was almost torture sitting here, not knowing anything, and his left leg was bouncing slightly.  While he was happy to be away from those who were trying to blow him up , he still wasn't sure this was much safer.

?