Lestrade of the Yard and the Informers.

[Silbuster]

Down the mean streets of Little China we flitted from cover to cover, keeping a weather eye out for trouble, though we weren’t quite sure what trouble would consist of. The word was that Lofty Lara had the goods on the loot from the Clapton job and that we’d better get to her before anybody else did. And given that half the world’s chisellers are polluting the capital, there could be a long queue. Oddly enough, there were also rumours that Crafty Kate knew more that she wouldn’t say for less than a bundle of notes about the spoils from the Old Kent Road caper while Dodgy Dora had her finger on the pulse on the subject of the Regent’s Park raid. All in all, it could be a busy day. And then we spotted them. Diamond Annie and the Doxies from Hell. Armed to the teeth and obviously after the same ill gotten gains. We sank into the shadows and slunk forwards.

And then we started to run. There she was. Lofty Lara. Whoops! There was Crafty Kate. And there was Dodgy Dora. Soon there were groups of us running in all directions only to find out that they weren’t who we thought they were after all, but that they knew where we could find them… Hang on! Something smells distinctly piscine here. Is somebody pulling our chain? Looking into the distance, I could see Diamond’s dainties doing the same so it was probably on the level. Mind you, with all this rushing about there was bound to be one hell of a crash sooner or later, I thought presciently just before the first bullets started flying. You can’t get much past me you know, I thought, as World War Zero broke out around me.

Up North, Sherlock and Tough, backed up by WPC Sniper Sue, were trying to chat to Crafty Kate but girls with guns kept getting in the way. That and all those railings. In the end, it settled down to a shooting match. Unfortunately, that demon Diamond has got hold of large calibre Mausers and, there’s no denying it, they’re very good at blowing holes in police uniforms. Sergeant Tough bought a ticket to the infirmary along with two of our finest to keep him company. It was very lucky we had Sue with us as she knocked Gert Scully and Miss Big Bum for six before they could ventilate any more of our fine officers. No doubt they’ll have a laugh about it on the ward. Or perhaps not. Either way, Sherlock had to lead the survivors towards the centre where they tried to find somebody else who’d blab but it didn’t look hopeful which meant it was all down to us.

Which was a bit unfortunate, really. Basically, we all wanted to catch Lofty Lara’s eye but we kept catching the opposition’s pins and truncheons in our own instead. Both sides were arriving in dribs and drabs and whacking the c**p out of each other when they got there. But, rather embarrassingly for a bunch of hard-living, hard-fighting veterans, we got pasted five to two by a bunch of girlies. Of course, running into Dollie Hill, aka “The Lady in Black”, is never a pleasant experience. She has the build to toss Hercules out of the house and then throw the door after him for good luck. And it certainly doesn’t help that she and her sister Dollie have taken to brazenly carrying sabres in broad daylight. But even so, it’s not doing much for our street cred. The only credit I can personally claim is that I was last man standing right up to the moment when some git struck the Bells of St Lemon’s between my ears.

I think I and the lads are going to have to go on a course on modern self-defence. Sherlock recommends it.

Lestrade of the Yard,
Currently in the “seeing stars and hearing bells ward” of St Bude’s for the severely walloped.

The scenario:
There are three “informers”. Use either models or dice. Determine their position by throwing a random direction die and two D10 for the distance from the board’s centre in inches. Whenever a figure contacts an “informer”, throw a D6.

On a roll of a 6, you have found an object of inestimable value. Unfortunately, it may not be moved and to claim points for it, you must have a figure in contact with it at the end of the game. If an enemy figure moves into contact with yours, then neither figure is in contact with the object.
On any other roll, you have found an informer who tells you where to go next for information on the object of inestimable value. Determine the random position of the next “informer” in the same way as the original setup.

Points:
2 points for each enemy soldier taken out.
5 points for each enemy leader taken out.
15 points for each object of inestimable value held at the end of the game.

Basically, this is quite a tactically difficult game. As the next “informer” could turn up anywhere on the board, you really want to spread out a bit. On the other hand, in order to grab the next informer, you have to be present in force. And that’s particularly the case if you find an object of inestimable value.

[Craig]

Your reports are always a subject of much mirth here at HQ 

[shadowking1957]

Fantastic always and great viewing

[Silbuster]

This was fought again. Unfortunately, some twonk forgot the camera but the following is the story from our star reporter.... well, he thinks he's a star anyway.

Down the mean streets of Little China we flitted from cover to cover, keeping a weather eye out for trouble, though we weren’t quite sure what trouble would consist of. The word was that Lofty Len had the goods on the loot from the Clapton job and that we’d better get to him before anybody else did. And given that half the world’s chisellers are polluting the capital, there could be a long queue. Oddly enough, there were also rumours that Crafty Ken knew more than he wouldn’t say for less than a big one about the spoils from the Old Kent Road caper while Dodgy Dave had his finger in the pie on the subject of the Regent’s Park raid. All in all, it could be a busy day. And then we spotted them. A bunch of impecunious Turkish revolutionaries, armed to their rotten stinking teeth and obviously after the same ill gotten gains. We sank into the shadows and slunk forwards.

The calm was shattered by a fusillade of shots and lightning bolts from the Turks. We couldn’t see the target but, judging from their sudden pallor, they could have been shooting the hounds of Hell. At that point, a voice from the house next to us asked if we were looking for Lofty Len. Sergeant Tough went in to look, walking carefully. The voice was coming from the first floor which looked like it could join us on the ground floor at any time. Leaving Red and Jim to cover him, we snuck along towards the sound of the guns. And then, it all started happening at once.

On our left some nosey-parker Anatolians started sneaking towards the house that Tough would have built better. Further along, another one was sidling towards us right up to the moment when Sniper Sue blew him back to Istanbul. A terrific shot straight through the opposite windows of a house to catch him in the open (We play WYSIWYG with buildings). There’ll be a medal for that gel. Probably one for PC Postlethwaite too, who retained his sang-froid when suddenly running into the reason for World War Zero, still booming off in the no longer so distant distance. “Hello, hello, hello.”, he said, “What have we here then?”. Well, one of them was big and green while the other was big and bright blue. Their big points in common were the horns and the eyes. Six of the latter between the pair of them. All flame red. Postlethwaite called for assistance and we came running though we slowed down just a bit when we saw just what the opposition was made of. For a moment, we thought we were in big trouble in Little China but they started backing off. Breathing a sigh of disappointment, we edged forward.

Round the corner, we found what they were looking for. Well, if it wasn’t old Lofty Len. Quite right, it wasn’t. It was him cleverly disguised as the Face what sank a thousand ships. Signalling back to Tough to tiptoe out of the bouncy castle, I looked for volunteers to take Medusa’s ugly sister into custody and my gaze fell on PC Plonker. Ignoring his despairing pleas of “No, please guv’nor. Mercy!”, I told him to get on with it and we left him clutching her and a sick bag while we followed the spawn of Hell. There was no doubt about it. Plonker had drawn the short straw.

Well,we had one of the scum so it was time for a tactical rethink. Or a cup of char as some call it. We might have known we wouldn’t be left in peace though. DC Ginger was shot by some Turkish twonk creeping up while he was covering Tough’s careful descent. I dunno. Why is it that either DC Ginger or PC Red , or both, always seem to buy it? There’s got to be some connection but I can’t see it. It must be right under our noses… Anyway, PC Jim stepped forward and twatted that Turk, then stepped smartly back and took one down trying to run up behind them. Another corking shot from Scotland Yard’s finest. I think he’ll be known as Jammy Jim from now on! Meanwhile, we came upon a demon lurking behind a nearby wall. Fortunately he was alone so we bravely took him on at odds of four to one. In our favour. I can’t help thinking we overdid the electro-truncheons. Smoking black charcoal is not an attractive colour.

Up ahead we could see the Turks trying to gun down the demons which was evidently preferable to being caught by one and kebabbed. Which looked very nasty considering the state of their earlier meals lying about the place.! Their leader wasn’t much of an improvement. Some sort of Oriental doxy in an astonishing costume. She didn’t look very nice. She didn’t look very nice at all. So we decided to leave her for another day. The demons were holding Crafty Ken, cleverly disguised as Smirkin Poirot (Hercule’s evil twin) in a derelict church which looked ready to join the graveyard it was leaning perilously over. Not a very attractive proposition overall so we thought we’d call it quits for the day though the horned ones had different ideas and charged us. And the Turks. For a moment the day could have been lost. But we came through with flying colours. Sherlock then got a whisper that Dodgy Dave was hiding in the building next to us which seemed to be built out of matchsticks. Only less solid. Never mind. We’ll come back after it’s been condemned and pushed over.
 
Another successful case for Lestrade of the Yard with the able assistance of the Consulting Detective.