Cappone, at the head of the column, made a mental note to return to Skull Island to recover these astonishing time travelling portals. But it was not to be. I will leave the last words to his official hagiographer, his brother Cardinal Benedict Cappone:
"Capone, through brilliant leadership safely guided his, Fletchers and a number of other players teams safely to the bridge.
Whilst crossing first, to check it was safe of course, one of the villainous cretins at the back of the, rather long, queue fired at me hitting one of my followers. I responded with a burst from my Tommy gun hitting a few bystanders.
For some reason everybody seemed to blame Cappone and opened up killing my last two bodyguards and seriously wounding me.
In order to lose some of the hefty weight or responsibility I carried due to my endeavour’s to lead the rather disorganized rabble I rolled a couple of hand grenades down the rope bridge.
Unfortunately they went off injuring some more bystanders and breaking one of the supporting ropes.
Fletcher tried to help me as he ran past.
However as the angry mob rushed forward, no doubt to liberate the contents of my wallet, one of them attempted to injure my person.
Following an exchange of gun shots and several hits on my athletic bronzed body I succumbed to my wounds with the final words "run Fletcher, run “...
A grief stricken Fletcher stands over the body of his fallen friend.
The few survivors sailed away, leaving Skull Island shrouded in the mists of he South China Sea....
And so who were the winners and losers?
Foremost amongst these were the Bolsheviks, who now control Urga and half of Mongolia
Red Ted, seen here enjoying a bottle of celebratory cough mixture. Architect of the Bolshevik victory, his strategic deception with the 'March of the Tashkent Soviet' which confused friend and foe alike, will go down as his greatest moment yet. The shadowy figure of V.I.Blackwood (shadowy because he takes all the pics. And is therefore never in front of the lens!), shared in the glory as well.
Cappone (background, with that traditional Italian flair for style in his black tie and sneakers) and Brigadoer Linn in happier times. Linn was shipped back to England in disgrace, and retired to his estates near Langbank in Renfrewshire. He is rumoured to be working on a gentlemen's retail emporium idea in Edinburgh.
Lord Gordon Grey, whereabouts unknown
Der Baron, bloodied but unbowed, is rumoured to be working on a new suite of super-weapons from his capital in exile of Kashgar.
And what of the mysterious 'Siegfried', the mysterious - and as yet undiscovered - Bolshevik spy. His Moscow paymasters were apparently much pleased with his efforts as he was rumoured to have been awarded a colonelcy in the Cheka. This notice appeared in the one and only edition of the Pink issued for this campaign (PM me if you want a copy):
"Message for Siegfried
Your Aunt Carla and Uncle Joe are missing you, and look forward to keep hearing about all your new friends. If you need anything just let us know. Also, we’ve heard that the trains up north, which as may you know weren’t working, have now been fixed and are running as normal, should you need them."
A fine little campaign, and an excellent weekend, summed up her in our team photo just before our traditional last night dinner in the bowels of Count Ignatieff's castle:
So what next for the League?
Rumours have reached us that The Beast of Bukhara has taken deliver of several ultra-modern tanks, original destined for the US army, but diverted by a shadowy arms dealer in Minnesota, who trades under the false guise of an accountant....which has led to the Beast mobilising along his western border. Tensions are rising in the Middle East as France and Britain play out their age old rivalry in Palestine and Syria. There are stories of a strange star arising in the East, and the tribes of the Hijaz talk of a new prophet amongst them....The League will therefore return later in the summer in their next adventure: 'Through a Glass Darkly'