OPERATION OVERCAST (Nerves of Steel mission)

Jonathan realized he couldn't do much to avoid getting a knife shoved up his ribcage, not with this guy, not in this tall grass and surrounded by trees, not with the heavy bag on his back, which he couldn't drop right now because that would give with other guy enough time to make minced meat out of him. He still had his small log though, to whack the guy over the head if he decided to come any closer. So now it was a game of waiting and not getting killed.

Unless...

"Entschuldigung, aber ich glaube es gibt ein Missverständnis hier. Sehen sie, ich bin Mitglied des Forschungsteams hier, und wurde heute Nacht rausgeschickt um die Anomalien to bestudieren. Mir wurde nicht miterteilt das es eine Militäroperation gibt hier. Und ich entschuldige mich das ich auf ihnen geschossen habe."
Jonathan tried to sound as convincing and scientific as possible while coming with the excuse that he was a German scientist sent out in the field to study anomalies and had been surprised by the military operation, but he wasn't entirely sure that it was working. Still, if he could get the sniper to think just for one second and let his guard down for even just a microsecond, he could chuck the small log at the man's face and take him down briefly to then try to recover his fire-arm and put some distance between him and the man. So he was hoping that the soldier was indeed surprised by hearing the flawless German with a slight Bayrisch (southern Germany) accent.

"Ugh..." Thorsten groaned in frustration, "Zat vill have to do." He lay Conrad down against the glider, so the angry Canuck could rest. Thorsten then turned his attention to the oddly dressed commandos in the woods. Pulling his Luger again, he took aim towards the sound of footsteps around the corner of the glider an fired off a clip before ducking back behind the wreckage to reload.

Sergio swore as he ducked behind cover. He tumbled and rolled to a halt between Thorsten and the Japanese, back against the glider. He looked at the pistol in his hand.
'Gee, this sure is helpful,' he thought. Sergio had very little actual combat training, due to the fact that he was inside the OPI for most of his life. He had done some combat drills, but nothing compared to actual fighting. He tried to remember the theories and ignore the gunfire. He couldn't. He balled his fists and banged on the glider in frustration. He was no help to the team this way.

The satyr thought he heard signs of a physical struggle outside the clearing, but he couldn't be sure. His goat's ears pricked up, trying to locate the sound.
"Was that ... the American?" he said. He turned to the next available person. "I think I heard Jonathan. Did he circle back? Should we go find him or help?"

Hastings was down in the dirt behind some cover, sliding back the bolt on his weapon after a poor shot. Already he was filthy, but it was nothing new to him. Nor was any of this in fact, which provoked much mumbling in the cynical brute.

"Drag me out into this fucked up squad just to make me do the same thing I do anyway, 'cept this time the fully auto's are bigger." He hadn't been asked to use the...special gift of his yet, so it was true that his purpose in combat hadn't really changed at all. He sat up from his position, slowly turning to raise himself from above his cover.

A dirt-caked finger protruded from the worn out fingerless glove and began to wrap around his trigger. Hastings put his eye to the sights and carefully lined up a shot straight at one of the soldiers. He couldn't miss this time. Someone was going to die by his hand. A bullet flicked by his head, narrowly missing his ear, but Hastings didn't so much as blink, giving no hesitation as he snapped his finger back and tried to lay down the German.

((Some hints about Conrad's abilities in this post.))

Seeing the Healer guy heal Conrad, Akira grew more relieved. "The only people dying here are the Nazis.", Akira thought. Suddenly, the weird looking, hairy guy came running up and slammed his back on the glider. Suddenly, that guy said, "Was that ... the American?" he said. He turned to the next available person. "I think I heard Jonathan. Did he circle back? Should we go find him or help?". "I don't think so. We need to worry about ourselves and those quickly approaching Nazis.", Akira said. The automatic gunfire appeared to grow louder as he said this. "You see? We need a plan! The American should be able to take care of himself. He looked tough.". Looking up, Akira saw the muzzle flashes of the Nazis guns. Aiming, he unloaded two rounds at the nearest flash in the woods. Looking around, he saw no sign of a struggle and couldn't hear anything above the sound of the guns. Ducking back down, Akira shouted to the hairy guy, "I can't see or hear the American. He is on his own for now. Do you have a weapon? Me and him," pointing to the German healer Akira continued, " can cover you and you can hit them from the woods."

The handler crept forward, lowering the pistol when he heard the man reply in German, his voice filled with relief. "Leider gibt es, Unterfeldwebel! Ich habe nicht erkennen. Ich habe einige Seil in meinem pack." He quickly tied the two leashes around a tree, the dogs more than happy to stay away from Siegfried. Moving over to Siegfried's left, the man scarcely had time to cry out as the enormous German drove an elbow into his throat. Gasping for air, the handler collapsed as Douglas delivered a sharp punch to his face, a loud crack signalling a broken nose. Grabbing his Sten, Douglas levelled the barrel at the German and spat on the ground, turning to Siegfried. "Should I shoot him now or later?"


Unfortunately for Jonathan, the sniper didn't even pause. Lunging forward, he slashed with his knife, barely missing Jonathan's stomach. The engineer stumbled backwards, caught offguard, and the sniper lunged again, the knife digging deep into Jonathan's shoulder. Crying out in pain, Jonathan swung the log wildly, connecting with the sniper's head. Staggering, the German staggered backwards, spitting out a tooth. "Sie wird das bezahlen, Schwein!" he muttered, circling slowly again...


The battle at the glider was definitely not going in the favour of the operatives. The enemy were extremely disciplined, sticking to cover and using their weapons to keep the group pinned behind the glider. Fortunately for the group of scientists, they had one properly-trained soldier - Hastings. Squeezing the trigger, Conrad barely reacted as one of the figures abruptly fell backwards; he was too busy working the bolt for his second shot. Surprised by this show of accuracy, the remaining six soldiers quickly turned their attention on this new threat, and Conrad was forced to duck down as bullets whizzed over his head. This provided the opening Akira and Thorsten needed - firing wildly, the two felt a rush of relief as another figure collapsed with a cry of pain. The remaining five soldiers quickly rallied, their discipline keeping them in the fight, and Akira gave a cry as a bullet bit deep into his right shoulder. Sergio, seeing the Japanese scientist go down, fired blindly over the top of the glider and miraculously scored a hit - one of the soldiers in the woods cried out as the pistol round slammed into his thigh, falling against a tree. This seemed only to encourage the attackers - this would be a fight to the death...

((Four left. In regards to your PM, Cuidado, you could give it to him, but it'd just be a normal weapon - no special abilities. Then again, sending a scientist across a clearing where there's a bunch of guys with automatic weapons is probably a bad idea. Nirdian, you just keep fighting - bear in mind he's now stabbed you in the shoulder. Janitor, you've got yourself a prisoner. Merc, if you're out there, you're in a tree with Siegfried and the prisoner.))

"Sie werden dafür bezahlen, Schwein!"

"Me? No. I won't pay a fucking thing, you SS bastard." Jonathan casually muttered back, at the guy as he clutched his shoulder to try and keep some pressure on his shoulder-wound (which seemed to work, since no blood came flowing out just yet), leaving him with only one free arm. He was in pain, yes, but he could handle it. "What I'm going to do is kill you guys so hard, your grandchildren will be born dead!" The current guise on his face was one of anger, surely, and it would most likely have scared the living shit out of any normal person. This, however, was an SS sniper, an angry SS sniper. That, didn't stop Jonathan from slowly moving in closer, still clutching the piece of wood, and intending to give the guy a beatdown the likes of which he'd never seen before. He did still watch very carefully for any movements of his opponent, waiting for him to attack, because if he would attack first, he'd surely be the one on the bleeding end, since this guy was fast and he... wasn't.
As he carefully watched his assailant circling him while he circled right back, he noticed that the blade the guy was carrying was still very clean. So now Jonathan was hoping that he would notice too, and give him just that small opening he'd need to beat the living shit out of the bastard.

"Of all ze times to not have ze goddamn radio, Thorsten growled. His anger got the best of him and he fired a couple shots towards the closest trooper he could spot. Having learned from his previous attempt, he did not heal Akira, but did reach into his bag for gauze and bandage his wound after pulling back behind cover.

Akira screamed in pain as the bullet tore through his shoulder and lodged itself there. He dropped down behind the glider and yelled, "Medic!". After doing so he thought better of it but then thought, "What the hell. Conrad can shoot and we took another two down. Can't be more than five of those guys left and they stopped advancing... for now.". The pain really began to spread now. A pulse tore into his arm as blood flowed out of his arm like a small stream. Taking his mind off of the pain, Akira focused on the current situation. Realizing that he was useless manning a bolt-action gun with one arm. Tapping Sergio, Akira shouted over the gunfire, "Hey! I hope you know how to shoot this thing!". Akira handed him his rifle as he said this. Not waiting to see if Sergio took the rifle or not, Akira tapped the German wrapping his wound, "Hey, you and fuzzy over here distract those Nazis while Conrad kills them. He's the only good shot out of us all. He is gonna keep us alive.".

Never Misses was not familiar with the concept of prisoners, at least not in such fluid circumstances. He would have put a tomahawk to his neck by now, but the big German seemed to be content with pulling him around. Instead he slipped his way down the tree without a sound, touching down noiselessly on the forest canopy. The gunshots further back in the clearing were louder than ever to his well trained ear, but something more telling was Jonathan's absence. Having turned back without the others he could easily become prey for the lone wolf among the flock. It was Never Misses' experience that even the most able hunter was uneasy on unfamiliar ground, doubly so when they may become the hunted within moments. He turned to the others and spoke tersely.
"Heading after Jonathan," he murmured loud enough for them to hear it, but no louder, his gravelly tone carrying easily in the forest. Such was his nature. He cocked his head in the direction of the fighting and then swooped low, sticking to the underbrush as he moved with his Springfield held in a loose but steady grip. His natural fleet-of-foot carried him quickly to the higher grass of the clearing, where up ahead the rustling and muffled grunts alerted his keen sense of danger to a armed struggle. A cry of pain followed by the dull crack of teeth snapping out of place zeroed him in on the pair, not far ahead among the concealing grass.

Silently he slung his rifle as his left hand fell to the tomahawk at his waist, crouched low like a coiled spring ready to burst forth at the enemy. He slid with as little noise as possible among the grass, tomahawk now held tight. In flickers of colour among the tall blades he could make out the pair of hungry cougars circling each other. The gunmetal grey of the German's uniform clashing with the foliage tones of his ghillie marked him as the attacker of Jonathan, who certainly seemed the worse off of the two. Waiting for his perfect moment to strike as the German circled once more, he found it as he stopped long enough to present his vulnerable back to the Lakota warrior. He leapt in a single bound into the air, tomahawk above his head as he swung an arc towards the rival sniper's skull.

"In theory!" Sergio yelled back as he accepted the rifle. The stayr nodded as the Japanese relayed his plan. "I'll see what I can do." Sergio then turned to watch Conrad, the single operative who could shoot worth a damn. He watched where the man was pointing the gun, and tried to remember that point in his mind. The satyr then crouched low and tried to find a relatively concealed space where he could shoot from. All he would need was to distract the Germans, maybe fire a burst from one end of the glider, then one from the middle, then one from the opposite end...

Sergio settled down low to the glider's end, with as much metal between him and the bullets. He laid down on the ground, tried to triangulate the position of the Germans once more, and fired a few shots, working the action after each shot. Without waiting for a reply, Sergio rolled back and raced to a window he had seen earlier. He shot through the glass at the Germans' position once more, then ran to the opposite end of the glider and repeated the process. He didn't really expect to hit anything, just to distract the Germans enough to let Conrad get a good shot in.

Thorsten followed Sergio's lead. He alternated firing positions with him so shots would be coming from both ends of the glider almost constantly. The commandos wouldn't be able to advance much with so much enemy fire coming their way. In the back of his mind, he hoped that the others would come back soon to aid them. Despite the odds being evened, four Nazi commandos were still tough to kill.

Despite their lack of training, the operatives at the glider were putting up a fierce fight. Conrad didn't even flinch as a bullet slammed into the wood beside his ear, instead shifting his aim and firing at the closest commando, who collapsed without a word. The others were far less accurate, though they made up for the lack of accuracy with the sheer volume of their firepower. Another commando collapsed under the hail of bullets, and the other two scrambled for cover. From their position inside the glider, the operatives heard the pair exchange words in German, and abruptly the automatic gunfire cut off. From his position, Conrad could see the enemy retreating, and took the opportunity to fire again, sending one German sprawling. The final soldier hastened his step, vanishing into the forest. The clearing finally fell silent as the operatives looked at each other in shock - not only had they survived the ambush, they'd actually won the battle!


The sniper circled Jonathan warily, knife held at the ready. Suddenly, he paused, his gaze drawn to the blade. Eyes widening, he looked back up at Jonathan. The single moment of hesistation was the last mistake the soldier would ever make. The sniper didn't even have time to cry out as Never Misses leapt from the forest, tomahawk swinging. With a wet thud, the blade embedded itself in the man's neck, who collapsed to the floor. Never Misses plucked the weapon free and wiped the blade on the sniper's cloak, then looked up at Jonathan, face devoid of emotion.

((So the glider battle is finished, and the sniper is dead. I didn't update Siegfried's situation, because he hasn't posted his intentions yet. Merc and Nird, you're only a few hundred meters from the glider, so you can head back there if you like. Take a moment to treat wounds, talk, rob the corpses, etc. We'll get rolling again shortly.))

Jonathan, still holding his shoulder, dropped the log, looked up at the guy who he thought named himself 'Never Misses' and smiled while making a thumbs up with his free hand. "Thanks for that." He then moved in toward the corpse and pried the combat knife from sniper's cold, dead hands, which he then stuck into a built-in sheath in the right side of his jacket. He'd accidentally forgotten his own knife at home, a mistake he'd never make again. As he raised himself, Jonathan looked down upon the dead sniper for a few seconds, before kicking the dead man in the face, hard enough to break it, but not quite hard enough to bloody his boot, much. He then went looking for his gun, which had to lie somewhere in the grass nearby. "If you see an M1911 lying around here somewhere, that'll be mine." he quietly informed Never Misses as he weaved his hand through the trampled grass. "It would be useful to have if I am to help the others at the glider..."

(Sorry but I must do this. -Plays FF Victory Theme-)
Cautiously emerging from cover, Thorsten walked over to the scattered corpses and searched for any supplies he thought they could use. Akira certainly needed something more than a few bandages to keep going. He hoped that one of the commandos habitually carried painkillers of some sort. Anything would do at this point.

{(OOC: Anyone looting the bodies, note, if you find StG44 or StG46 ammo, Siegfried can use it, you know that cause he has an StG46, just a thought. )}

Siegfried glared at Douglas.
"He is just a kid, probably conscripted, you might as well kill children." Siegfried said as he bent and picked the rope the Wehrmacht soldier had brought over, he plucked the Luger out of the soldier's holster, ensured the safety was on and tucked it into his belt next to his M1911A1.
Siegfried proceeded to truss the Wehrmacht soldier, tying his hands behind his back, leaving his feet unbound but only so he didn't need to be carried. Siegfried moved on to take the young soldiers helmet, and anything else of interest. (Tell me all of what I find, like how man mags for luger)

Siegfried dragged the trussed soldier over to a tree and sat him against it.
"Just watch him, and look mad." He said as he carefully moved away toward the dogs who whined quietly.
"Sitz!" Siegfried ordered the dogs as he stepped forward, careful to stay far enough away that they couldn't lunge and bite him.

"YATA!!!!!", Akira shouted as he saw the last German bolt out of sight and into the forest. "Run you Nazi baka! Yes. Well... we did it.". Silently reflecting, Akira thought, "I did it. I survived my first firefight. Somehow, I knew I would get through it.". Getting up Akira walked over to the nearest downed German and picked up his automatic rifle. After switching the safety on and checking the chamber and magazine for the remaining rounds, Akira proceeded to check the soldier for any useful tidbits he could jerry-rig something with and for any ammo, pistols, or anything else that could be deemed useful in the current situation. While Akira searched the German body, he remembered his shoulder had a bullet in it as pain swirled and pulsed from his shoulder. "Hey Doc!", Akira shouted to Thorsten, "Got anything for my shoulder! The pain is really starting to come back!.". Akira grasped his shoulder as he said this. Getting back to searching, Akira finished taking all the useful stuff from the dead soldier and headed over to Thorsten to get some much needed relief.

The sniper grunted as he stood over his fallen foe. Like the witless bison on the plains, he had suspected nothing. A clean kill was the best kind, and in the mind of the hunter the only kind. There was a time when the Lakota would not eat an animal that suffered in its last moments, but as the government herded them into smaller and less plentiful hunting grounds they too were forced to make concessions. Like many of their traditions, they were carried only in the memory of the wisened old medicine men and shamans that still remembered the old times. Now they too were few, like the bison or eagle. He shook the thought of his home, knowing that if he wished to see them again they would have to be pushed to the back of his mind, at least for the meantime.

The firing had ceased near the glider but the harsh smell of spent casings and powder carried on the air. Jonathan gave a kick to the corpse, a practice Never Misses frowned upon but did not care to correct, and mentioned something about his pistol. He pointed to the .45 shrouded by the grass near the sniper's body, then slung his tomahawk back to his waist and took the Springfield from his shoulder, feeling the comfortable smoothness of the wood in his rough and calloused fingers. He motioned in the direction of the glider with the barrel of his rifle, indicating wordlessly for Jonathan to follow. Having seen the hewn flesh running horizontal along his shoulder were the sniper's blade had caressed him, he knew the other man would require some aid from the doctor. He stalked through the grass, knowing Jonathan would not be far behind.

Having reached the landing zone, he saw the doctor already tending to several wounds. They were lucky to have made it through judging by the equipment of the German soldiers; they were well trained and equipped, facing off against a single soldier and a handful of non-combatants. Nevertheless, they had won this small engagement with the meagre equipment they had, which gave them a measure of respect in the sniper's mind. As he neared, he spoke in his trademark quiet tone.
"Siegfried and Douglas have prisoner. Jonathan was not as wary, it seems," he said with a rare and barely visible smile as he jerked his thumb towards the other soldier, "but my tomahawk decided the outcome."
Although there were other wounded, Never Misses had little in the way of medical knowledge aside from his herbal remedies, no good for wounds from bullets or blade. Instead he focused on what he did best, lifting himself up onto the wing of the glider and from there to the roof, the added height advantage giving him a better view of the clearing around them. Slipping his rifle into the nook of his shoulder, he brought his eye to the scope and scanned the immediate area for anything moving.

The day had not gone particularly well for Jonathan. He had been useless (twice), stabbed, saved and now he was being mocked. At least he'd recovered his gun and was still alive, so that was something.
With a slight grunt of tiring and dissatisfaction, Jonathan sat down in the grass next to the glider, against it's hull he then leaned him back. He'd stuffed his gun, safety back on, in the holster again and was now ridding himself of damaged the army jacket, whose camouflaging properries were far outweighed by being instantly identifiable by the enemy, apparently. His own dark, tough jacket would have to suffice. He did, however, first want to fix the brand new rip that had been made in it by that oh-so brilliantly annoying SS-dude. He set to work on mending it with a small, metal plate from the glider. His shoulder was still hurting, but he could suppress the pain enough to work. To stop any possible bleeding, he just cut the fabric military jacket to pieces and wrapped it around in such a way that it would disturb him the least and still cover the wound, it should do, he didn't have to bother the doc with that.

Unfortunately for Siegfried, the handler seemed to be poorly equipped - apart from the Luger, he had very little on his person. A thorough search yielded the pistol, two magazines of ammunition, a combat knife and a water canteen; seemingly, patrols left much of their excess equipment at the camp. Eyes wide with terror, the now-tied German tried to yell out, but Doug delivered a quick punch to the gut, silencing him. "No talking, Hun," he said, the Sten levelled at the soldier's chest - the soldier seemingly understood the message, as he locked his jaw and lay silent. As Siegfried yelled at the dogs, something quite unusual happened. Rather than growing agitated, they began to whimper, lying flat on their bellies with their eyes fixed on the ground. Douglas raised an eyebrow, looking over at the now humbled Dobermans. "Th' hell did you do? Those're trained Jerry warhounds, and you've got 'em lyin' there like a pair of Frenchies!" Siegfried smiled slightly and patted one of the dogs on the head. They wouldn't be bothering him for the time being.


Akira was in luck - the commando had been carrying plenty of ammunition. A search yielded four extra magazines, which the scientist pocketed. He also found a bayonet for the rifle, as well as an unopened ration packet - the label was unreadable, but it looked about the same size as a British twenty-four hour pack. Thorsten's search was just as successful; after frisking several of the bodies, he came away with three rolls of linen bandages and a small bottle of what seemed to be antiseptic ointment. The doctor also found two clips for his Luger and another two magazines of ammunition for the automatic rifles, should he choose to take one. Akira's shoulder wound was still bleeding, though the flow had reduced significantly - it would still need medical aid if he was to continue fighting. The pilot, too, seemed to be injured - the African-American was slumped against the glider, clutching at his side, and his breathing came in sharp, rapid breaths. Thorsten would have his work cut out for him...

Despite the darkness, Never Misses was able to see quite clearly in the forest, largely thanks to his keen eyesight and the relatively bright moonlight above. Sweeping his gaze over the thickets bordering the clearing, he caught sight of movement near the ground - a prone figure was crawling away from the clearing. The slow progress indicated the figure was either injured or trying to avoid detection...

((Just for you, Jan . I'm not sure how I feel about the use of "Yata!", Cuidado - I'm reminded of Ter Loki and his anime avatar. The rest of you guys can loot the corpses too - there's six assault rifles lying around there, which you might find useful, as well as an assortment of other stuff. Just keep in mind that the entire forest would have heard that gunfight; who knows what could be coming to ruin your day?))

Thorsten takes the antiseptic and the bandages as well as the Luger ammo and decides, that in the situation they are in, he could possibly have some more firepower. The doctor reaches down and grabs one of the German assault rifles for himself and stows some ammo in his pack. Turning to the team, he decides to work on Akira first, knowing it will be quick and easy. However he will save his power for the pilot, who seems like he will need it more if he is to even return alive. Unwrapping the gauze, he reaches into the wound to retrieve the bullet, rather than use his power, before applying the antiseptic.

Thorsten was no amateur when it came to dealing with bullet wounds, and his deft movements were precise and swift. Applying an anaesthetic, he quickly removed the bullet, then swabbed the area with the antiseptic. Akira fought the pain, gritting his teeth - even the anaesthetic couldn't alleviate the stinging entirely. Placing a small pad over the entry wound, Thorsten held it in place with one of the bandages, then moved on to the pilot, satisfied Akira had received his best attention.

The pilot's wounds were much more severe - by the time Thorsten reached him, the pilot had turned a sickly shade of white, abd was sweating profusely despite the relatively cool temperature. Moving the man's hand, Thorsten surveyed the wound, noting an entry and exit wound - the bullet seemed to have passed through the man's abdomen and out his left side; the man's stomach may have been ruptured, but Thorsten couldn't be sure. The man's injuries were severe, and he was already in a bad way - even with Thorseb's powers, the man's chances looked slim. The German doctor as faced with a hard choice - would he waste valuable time and energy on the off chance the pilot might survive, or would he let the man die and save his powers for later?

((I'd normally hold off from posting until I had a few more replies, but you guys were all slack today so I'm prompting you. Sorry for throwing another hard choice at you, Wilbur - think of it as character building. ))

Grabbing everything he found, Akira pocketed everything and reloaded the automatic rifle after putting two magazines in each of his lab coat pockets. After attaching the bayonet to his rifle, Akira looked up and saw Thorstein approaching with bandages and a bottle. Assuming the bottle was antiseptic, Akira knew what was coming. The 'operation' went relatively well. The pain-killers were grinding teeth together, which worked as well as anyone could expect. After the bullet was removed and Akira had been bandaged up, Akira got up and thanked Thorstein but he appeared to not hear it. Following Thorstein's gaze, Akira saw the pilot, crouched down with blood coming from his stomach. Approaching Thorstein, Akira said, "Well Doc, use your healing power and fix up the pilot. We need every shot we can get.".

After fixing and slightly reinforcing his jacket and having packed away his tools again, Jonathan took a quick sip from his canteen and then moved over to the dead german commandos, or whatever they'd been across the small clearing. He wanted to grab himself one of those fine automatic rifles that he'd heard. After going through several bodies that had already been looted by his teammates, he found one that appeared to still be relatively untouched, only soldier's medical supplies had been taken. Jonathan went through the man's things very thoroughly, looking for the weapon, ammo, sidearm, knife, and smaller items, like useful pieces of cloth, or small metal wires and buttons and the like, even a belt could be useful.


((Post may be faulty, cause I can't focus well right now, I think I need some water...))

Thorsten stared at the pilot with a scorching sense of fear. He knew from experience that his powers didn't work properly sometimes. His heart practically skipped a beat at the thought of this man dying because of an uncontrollable failure. He looked in desperation at the other members of his team for some sort of acknowledgement or advice. Thorsten did not wish to err; certainly not here.