<data>
<p>A hail of automatic rifle fire tears into the sides and rear of the jeep as you crash your way through the barrier and accelerate across the open ground. You are twenty yards from the safety of the southern ruins when two bullets penetrate the jeep<ch.apos/>s gasolene tank.</p>
<p>The steel-jacketed rounds cause a spark that ignites the fuel, and, in one chilling instant, the vehicle is transformed into a blazing fireball. A kaleidoscope of shapes assails your eyes as the jeep somersaults end-over-end, before you are engulfed by a wave of searing white heat that kills you instantly.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your journey and your life come to an end here in San Angelo.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>An agonizing pain cuts into your chest and the warm taste of blood fills your mouth. Then the pain gives way to a terrifying numbness that robs you of all sensation. In a moment you see the sniper working another round into the chamber of his rifle. Then he points the muzzle at your head and darkness engulfs you.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your mission and your life end here in Brogado.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>It feels good to be able to drive once more at a speed that is faster than the brisk walking pace to which you have limited yourself over the past fifty fuel-conscious miles. It is also a great relief not to have to walk the thirty miles to Kent, for they are mostly uphill where the freeway traverses the northern slopes of the Davis Mountains. During this part of your journey you must take a Drink or lose 3 <typ class="attribute">ENDURANCE</typ> points.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small7.png" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small7.gif" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small7.pdf" width="386" height="142"/>
+ </illustration>
<p>You reach Kent late in the afternoon. At this hour the dusty little town lies in the shadow of the Apache Mountains, and, after spending hours in the relentless glare of the sun, you are thankful for the cooling shade. You have arrived a day ahead of your planned rendezvous with the convoy. The highway and surrounding area show no sign of their having arrived before you, so you decide to try to relax here while you wait for the convoy to show.</p>
<choice idref="sect172"><link-text>Turn to 172</link-text>.</choice>
</data>
<data>
<p>The sound of their engines is getting louder with every passing second and yet you are unable to find a safe way down to the river bed<ch.emdash/>it is far too steep. Desperately, you drive back and forth along the edge of the bank until a volley of shots echoes across the plain and the first of the clansmen<ch.apos/>s bullets start to whistle past. You have been seen.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small6.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small6.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small6.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<p>Quickly you abandon your attempt to hide and steer your roadster back onto the freeway in a frantic bid to outrun the pack. The fastest bikes give chase and relentlessly they pursue you until the leader is within twenty yards of your tail. With mounting fear, you glance in your rear-view mirror to see him draw a stubby-barrelled weapon from a tube strapped to the fuel tank. At first you think it is a sawn-off shotgun, but then you recognize the weapon and your heart sinks. It is a D-40<ch.emdash/>a laser sighted grenade launcher. You see the muzzle flash, and then moments later there is a deafening explosion. The last sensation you feel is that of being hurled skyward, surrounded by fire and fragments of your roadster.</p>
<deadend>The armour-piercing grenade has penetrated the trunk and exploded the spare fuel tanks you were carrying. Tragically, your mission and your life end here.</deadend>
</data>
<data>
<p>All the houses and stores of this forgotten town have collapsed long ago, all, that is, except for two. Both of these sorry, sand-blown shells stand on either side of an alley at the edge of town, and it is here that you decide to park your roadster. Quickly you discover that the buildings were once a hardware store and a tiny, one-pump gas station.</p>
-
- <illustration class="inline">
- <meta>
- <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
- </meta>
- <instance class="html" src="small9.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
- <instance class="html-compatible" src="small9.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
- <instance class="pdf" src="small9.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
- </illustration>
-
<choice idref="sect141">If you wish to investigate the derelict hardware store, <link-text>turn to 141</link-text>.</choice>
<choice idref="sect183">If you wish to take a closer look at the gas station, <link-text>turn to 183</link-text>.</choice>
</data>
<data>
<p>You are twenty yards out from the wall when a burst of machine gun fire echoes across the open ground. Bullets graze the rubble just a few feet ahead and ricochet into the air with a piercing whine. Kate looks over her shoulder and begins to slow her pace to allow you to catch up, but you scream at her to keep running and she obeys your command.</p>
<p>When you are halfway across the gap, a wave of exhaustion descends on you like a lead blanket. Painfully your thigh muscles tighten until, in the throes of cramp, you stumble and fall. Desperately you try to rise but more shots ring out and you feel something sharp and searing, like a red-hot dagger, pierce your side. Your vision swims in and out of focus and the last thing you see, before total darkness descends, is Kate as she reaches the fire station.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your journey and your life end here in San Angelo.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>The coarse staccato sound of a machine pistol and the sight of a clansman<ch.apos/>s grinning face are the last sensations you experience as a dozen bullets rip into your chest. Mercifully, the bullets deliver a quick and painless death.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Your life and your journey end here.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>The sniper fires as he turns and his bullet drills deep into your chest. You feel yourself lifted into the air, and the warm taste of blood gushes into your mouth. Then you hit the floor and the momentary pain gives way to a terrifying numbness that robs you of all sensation. In a moment, you see the sniper working another round into the chamber of his rifle. Then he points the muzzle at your head and a total darkness engulfs your vision.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your mission and your life end here in Brogado.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>You hurl the grenade, but it glances off the edge of an auto wreck and is deflected away from the ammunition chest. It explodes with a brilliant white flash that illuminates the barricade and draws the clansmen<ch.apos/>s attention to your position. Frantically you run for the safety of the yucca forest, but before you have taken a dozen steps, you are cut down by a long burst of automatic fire.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your mission and your life end here at the Fabens barricade.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>Your gunfire hits the Maverick in the midriff, forcing him to his knees. His first shot misses you, and through clenched teeth he spits out a curse as he struggles to raise his pistol for a second attempt. He is on the brink of death, and rather than waste precious ammunition, you choose not to fire again. It proves to be a fatal mistake.</p>
<p>His pistol is not a standard factory model; it is a weapon that has been customized to fire in fully-automatic mode. With his last ounce of strength he thumbs the selector to auto, and, as he falls forward, he empties the fourteen-round magazine in your direction. Sharp, stinging cores of pain erupt in a line across your chest as the 9mm bullets find their mark. The pain is unbearable, and seems to fill your entire body, but it soon gives way to a numbness that robs you of all sensation. Within a space of a few seconds you slip from consciousness and into a sleep from which you will never awaken.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your journey and your life end here.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>You try to dodge behind the stalagmites to avoid the clansman<ch.apos/>s fire, but your reflexes are dulled by fatigue and your movements are uncertain. A line of bullets punctures your chest and the taste of blood fills your mouth. As you fall to the ground, strangely you feel no pain, only an irresistible desire to sleep.</p>
<p>Moments later the clansman falls victim to Kate<ch.apos/>s pistol, but it is a shot you do not hear, for you have already slipped into the timeless embrace of death.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your journey and your life end here in the caverns of Sonora.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>A cloud of fearful anticipation hangs over the convoy as it passes through Van Horn and begins the journey to Sierra Blanca. You feel especially vulnerable as the freeway approaches the narrow mountain pass between Devil Ridge and Slaughter Mountain. Even the names of these landmarks serve to increase your dread of what could happen there.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small7.png" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small7.gif" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small7.pdf" width="386" height="142"/>
+ </illustration>
<p>You are a little over five miles from Van Horn when you hear gunfire in the distance, and see a pall of black smoke rising into the cloudless sky. At its base, the buildings of a tiny town called Allamoore are feeding the flames, and in the pass beyond this burning town, a gun battle is raging between the Mavericks and a group of invading Mexican clansmen. You assess the situation and decide that the best hope for the convoy lies in speed and surprise. If you can drive straight through this battle zone while both sides are busy shooting at each other, the convoy will be long gone before either side can redirect all its firepower.</p>
<p>With trepidation, the colony agrees to your plan and the convoy is drawn up into its break-out formation, with Pete Tyler<ch.apos/>s tow truck leading the way.</p>
<choice idref="sect20"><link-text>Turn to 20</link-text>.</choice>
<data>
<p>As you fight to regain control of your roadster, you glimpse in your rear-view mirror your rifle hitting the road and disintegrating on impact (erase this gun from your <a idref="action">Weapons List</a>). The biker throws back his head and laughs as he veers off the highway and takes to the open ground. Angered by the loss of your weapon, but still determined not to let the clansman escape, you pull the steering wheel hard over to the left and pursue him as he guns his bike cross-country towards Highway 87.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small6.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small6.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small6.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<p>An empty concrete drainage ditch runs parallel to the freeway, wide enough to deter the biker from attempting to ride straight across. At the last minute, he veers away and you chase him along its edge for nearly half a mile before finally he plucks up enough courage to try to get across. Ahead, a derelict pump house appears, straddling the ditch, its angular roof offering itself as a ramp that could be used to launch a jump onto the freeway. The clansman takes one last look at you over his shoulder and then, with a scream of fearful exhilaration, he winds back the throttle and points his bike at the pump house roof.</p>
<choice idref="sect192">If you wish to attempt to follow the clansman across the ditch, <link-text>turn to 192</link-text>.</choice>
<choice idref="sect51">If you decide to steer your roadster away from the pump house, <link-text>turn to 51</link-text>.</choice>
<data>
<p>You feel a jolt against your shoulder as one of the clansmen stubs his toe against the raised edge of the cover and is sent sprawling to the ground. Quickly you try to replace the hatch but it is roughly pulled aside by the angry Angelino. The instant he sees your face, he draws his pistol and empties it into the shaft. Pain erupts in your head and chest as seven heavy .45-calibre slugs knock you off the ladder. The last thing you hear, as you plummet into the darkness, is Kate<ch.apos/>s echoing scream of horror.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Your journey and your life end here.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>At the far end of a block of derelict stores is a blue, star-shaped sign that marks the site of a Lone Star gas station. You hurry along the dusty street, hopeful of finding some fuel, but you are met with disappointment. All the security caps have been sawn off the gasolene storage tanks and not a drop of their precious contents remains.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small9.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small9.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small9.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<p>The gas station itself has been ransacked and nothing of value remains, but at the rear of the building you discover something that stirs your curiosity. It is a large storage facility with heavy double doors, which are chained and padlocked.</p>
<choice idref="sect123">If you possess <typ class="item">Bolt Cutters</typ>, <link-text>turn to 123</link-text>.</choice>
<choice idref="sect94">If you do not possess this item, <link-text>turn to 94</link-text>.</choice>
<data>
<p>Both bullets hit you with deadly accuracy: one in the head and the other in the heart. Death is instantaneous.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your mission and your life end here at Fort Stockton.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>An agonizing pain cuts across your chest and the warm taste of blood fills your mouth. Then the terrible pain gives way to a terrifying numbness. For a moment the corridor swims in and out of focus, and then darkness engulfs you as you relinquish your hold on life.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your mission and your life end here in San Angelo.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<data>
<p>It feels good to be able to drive once more at a speed that is faster than the brisk walking pace to which you have limited yourself over the past twenty-five fuel-conscious miles. It is also a great relief not to have to walk the fifty or so miles to Kent, for they are mostly uphill, as the freeway passes through the ruined town of Brogado and traverses the northern slopes of the Davis Mountains. During this part of your journey you must take a Drink or lose 3 <typ class="attribute">ENDURANCE</typ> points.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small7.png" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small7.gif" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small7.pdf" width="386" height="142"/>
+ </illustration>
<p>You reach Kent shortly after noon, a day ahead of your planned time of rendezvous with the convoy. The highway and surrounding area show no sign of their having arrived before you, so you decide to try to relax here and recoup your strength while you wait for the convoy to show.</p>
<choice idref="sect172"><link-text>Turn to 172</link-text>.</choice>
</data>
<data>
<p>You step away from the clansman<ch.apos/>s body and run to where Kate is standing. She looks a little shell-shocked but is otherwise unharmed, and together you return to the front of the service area in time to see the sole surviving Detroit Lion making a speedy escape back along the freeway.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small8.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small8.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small8.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<p>Sergeant Haskell and his men cheer his retreat, and then conduct a search of those who did not get away. Although few personal possessions are found, they do recover some weapons and ammunition and you are offered a choice of the following:</p>
<ul>
<li>Machine Pistol</li>
<data>
<p>Something sharp punches you in the stomach and nausea washes over you in a wave that leaves you gasping for breath. Fearfully you clasp your hand to your midriff and feel warm blood oozing between your fingers, yet you feel no pain. Aware that you have been shot and that the shock of your wound is numbing your senses, you force yourself to get clear of the door in case the unseen gunman fires again.</p>
<p>You have taken just five steps when your vision begins to dim and your legs refuse to support your weight. You fall forwards and hit the floor face-first, but still you feel nothing, save the creeping numbness that slowly robs you of the will to live.</p>
+ <illustration class="inline">
+ <meta>
+ <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
+ </meta>
+ <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
+ <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
+ <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
+ </illustration>
<deadend>Tragically, your mission and your life end here at San Angelo.</deadend>
</data>
</section>
<ul class="unbulleted">
<li><a idref="tssf">The Story So Far<ch.ellips/></a></li> <!--small 3-->
<li><a idref="sect1">Section 1</a></li> <!--small 1-->
+ <li><a idref="sect14">Section 14</a></li> <!--small 10-->
<li><a idref="sect30">Section 30</a></li> <!--small 4-->
+ <li><a idref="sect31">Section 31</a></li> <!--small 10-->
+ <li><a idref="sect69">Section 69</a></li> <!--small 7-->
<li><a idref="sect82">Section 82</a></li> <!--small 4-->
- <li><a idref="sect85">Section 85</a></li> <!--small 9-->
+ <li><a idref="sect74">Section 74</a></li> <!--small 6-->
<li><a idref="sect110">Section 110</a></li> <!--small 9-->
+ <li><a idref="sect117">Section 117</a></li> <!--small 10-->
<li><a idref="sect129">Section 129</a></li> <!--small 2-->
<li><a idref="sect134">Section 134</a></li> <!--small 12-->
+ <li><a idref="sect151">Section 151</a></li> <!--small 10-->
<li><a idref="sect153">Section 153</a></li> <!--small 5-->
+ <li><a idref="sect170">Section 170</a></li> <!--small 10-->
<li><a idref="sect196">Section 196</a></li> <!--small 9-->
+ <li><a idref="sect198">Section 198</a></li> <!--small 10-->
<li><a idref="sect200">Section 200</a></li> <!--small 11-->
<li><a idref="sect210">Section 210</a></li> <!--small 4-->
+ <li><a idref="sect235">Section 235</a></li> <!--small 10-->
+ <li><a idref="sect247">Section 247</a></li> <!--small 10-->
+ <li><a idref="sect250">Section 250</a></li> <!--small 7-->
+ <li><a idref="sect251">Section 251</a></li> <!--small 6-->
+ <li><a idref="sect263">Section 263</a></li> <!--small 10-->
+ <li><a idref="sect267">Section 267</a></li> <!--small 9-->
+ <li><a idref="sect278">Section 278</a></li> <!--small 10-->
<li><a idref="sect288">Section 288</a></li> <!--small 5-->
+ <li><a idref="sect297">Section 297</a></li> <!--small 10-->
+ <li><a idref="sect300">Section 300</a></li> <!--small 7-->
+ <li><a idref="sect308">Section 308</a></li> <!--small 8-->
+ <li><a idref="sect322">Section 322</a></li> <!--small 10-->
<li><a idref="sect350">Section 350</a></li> <!--small 3-->
-<!-- Not yet placed:
-
-Biker in rear-view mirror (small 6):
- <illustration class="inline">
- <meta>
- <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
- </meta>
- <instance class="html" src="small6.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
- <instance class="html-compatible" src="small6.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
- <instance class="pdf" src="small6.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
- </illustration>
-
-Mountains & cacti (small 7):
- <illustration class="inline">
- <meta>
- <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
- </meta>
- <instance class="html" src="small7.png" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/png"/>
- <instance class="html-compatible" src="small7.gif" width="386" height="142" mime-type="image/gif"/>
- <instance class="pdf" src="small7.pdf" width="386" height="142"/>
- </illustration>
-
-Crashed motorcycle; Highway 10 (small 8):
- <illustration class="inline">
- <meta>
- <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
- </meta>
- <instance class="html" src="small8.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
- <instance class="html-compatible" src="small8.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
- <instance class="pdf" src="small8.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
- </illustration>
-
-Revolver, skeletal hand (small 10):
- <illustration class="inline">
- <meta>
- <creator>Brian Williams</creator>
- </meta>
- <instance class="html" src="small10.png" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/png"/>
- <instance class="html-compatible" src="small10.gif" width="386" height="150" mime-type="image/gif"/>
- <instance class="pdf" src="small10.pdf" width="386" height="150"/>
- </illustration>
-
--->
</ul>
</data>
</section>
Project Aon Git Repositories / project-aon.git / commitdiff