ROADWAR 2000
                       (STRATEGIC SIMULATIONS INC.)

Government Underground Biolab Journal - GUB director Herrell

Report from the Committee of Three - Jackson, Villiers, Laramie

Helgron's Highway Hoppers - President Jonathan T. Helgron



1. Excerpts from the GUB Journal, Final Updated Edition.

December 31, 1999.

The  days  tick  away  and  Christmas  is past. I fear that none of us will
survive  another  year  in  this dead place. Some of the volunteers who are
sent  up  to  approach  those  gang  leaders  managing to gain control over
several   cities   simply  disappear  forever;  others  come  back  without
succeeding.  Only  twice  has the password been given to a leader, and both
times  these were heard of no more. My men and I will try to hang on for as
long  as  we  can,  but  many  dangers exist and the hope for a new century
diminishes. All we can do now is wait.

February  13, 2000.  Maybe we have a chance. One of my men spotted a leader
whose gang was in control of eight cities; he was given the password. Later
this man used it, thus getting our address. A couple of days later still we
found  him  and his friends asking around town looking for the right people
to  meet.  We let him in and informed him of our situation. He said at once
he'd  help;  apparently  he'd  been planning some form of reorganisation by
himself.

His  name  is  Jonathan  Helgron, and my personal impression is that we are
dealing  with a relatively well-educated but basically uncouth, no-nonsense
individual  who  has  a  very  strong feeling of moral behavior. So far, he
hasn't  conquered  a single city led by either National Lawful Guardsmen or
Reborners. On the contrary; he seems to have a special kind of interest in,
as  he  put  it,  "kicking  the  shit out of them Invaders". As I said, not
particularly diplomatic - but so far very effective.

March 3, 2000.

Pintero  is back! Our man Helgron seems serious - serious enough to realise
that  bringing  back  our agents is much more important than fooling around
with the multitude of enemies all the time. Although I hear that the number
of cities falling under his control is constantly increasing, this seems to
be  due  to tactical necessity rather than lust for power. I think our Mr.
Helgron may come a long way.

June 20, 2000.

Five  of  our  team of eight have been returned now. Looking for the others
will  be  increasingly  difficult;  if Helgron brings in another one or two
I'll  give  him  our  very  last  radio  to  aid in his search. Bad weather
conditions  in the north of the land have slowed him up significantly; also
I hear he's been very close to being defeated by a concurring road gang and
has  decided  that  an  increase  of  tactical  insight is needed so he may
effectively control more vehicles.

September 1, 2000

Helgron  has our only radio. If he doesn't return with the last two agents,
our  chances  at  success are close to nil. Some of my staff feel that I've
made a mistake in trusting a non-conformist like Helgron; others agree that
he's  our  only  chance  - and that the very extremity of his character may
well  be  his  greatest asset. But our time's running out; if we don't hear
from  him  very  soon,  it will be too late to save this diseased, mutated,
starving country.

October 27, 2000

He  did it. Today Helgron returned with our last missing agent - and now we
can start healing the state. He doesn't know it yet, but as of tomorrow our
country will once more have a leader: Jonathan T. Helgron, President of the
United States of America.

GUB director Herrell

2. Excerpts taken from the Report as presented by the C.O.T.

For  months  I  had  lived  as  a  healer.  Ever  since the invasion health
conditions  in  our city had grown worse. Our hospitals were all destroyed;
only some of the basements and laboratories in the outer perimeter had been
partially  preserved.  After  weeks  and weeks of gathering all the working
equipment  we  could  find, aided in our efforts by the Guardsmen (ours had
not  left  the  path  of  justice), we managed to establish some improvised
clinics.

But  more  and more people died of this strange disease, and as the mutants
proliferated,  we  desperately  tried  to find ways to make an antidote. It
took  us a long time, but finally, in the winter of 1999, we came up with a
reliable  antitoxin.  Making  this  antitoxin  requires  great  amounts  of
chemicals,  and  as  we  lack  the  means  to  make some of the ingredients
necessary,  we  can  only  fabricate the antitoxin when we get our hands on
adequate other medicine.

Then,  halfway  through  April  in 2000, our town was visited by one of the
many  roadgangs  that  roam the streets more and more frequently. But where
some  gangs  persist  in  looting and destroying all they can, these people
were  sufficiently  polite  to  send  envoys, scouting the city. One of the
patrolmen  told  them  how  things stood, and this seemed to satisfy them -
they said they'd leave the city as soon as they'd found some people to take
the  places  of those who had died of the disease. That night I talked with
my  collegues,  and although some called it insane, I decided to help these
people,  to  see  what  I  could  do  to  heal their ill (or keep them from
contracting diseases) and to aid them in their quest for G.U.B. agents.

In  the  morning  of  April  18 in the year 2000 I joined Helgron's Highway
Hoppers.

Rebecca Laramie, MD.

Training is essential. If you can't convince whoever's in charge of running
things  of  the fact that, without training, there's no military basis (let
alone prowess), then you know you're on the losing side. Which is the wrong
side in any ol' war, from my point of view.

The  Muthuh Truckers certainly weren't the best outfit in the country - but
at  least  they had the common sense to pay attention to battle techniques,
as  well  as  an  extensive knowledge of sound engineering. Their cars were
always  rolling,  most  of them substantially altered with regard to engine
capacity,  maneuvrability  and  protection.  Also  they took a lot of time
looting  cities,  trying  to  find speed shops and such. Of course, a sound
engine is no good if the man operating it is an undisciplined over-the-edge
egg-head.  Which  leads  me to the unfortunate conclusion that the Muthuh's
organisation held room for improvement.

One  day  in  May, we were on the road in the West Central when we ran into
this  group  of six vehicles. Unlike our own team, whose leader insisted on
uniformity  and  therefore used the same type of vehicle for everyone, this
road  gang  had anything from a sportscar to busses - even a trailer truck.
And  while  the Muthuh's laughed at what they called "a circus parade", our
enemy took its positions.

Before  Big  Red  Ralph could shout his battle cry, I warned him that these
guys  were  not, by the looks of their positions and division of personnel,
amateurs.   But   Big   Red   simply   ignored  me,  laughed,  and  yelled,
"Clearrrrr....  the  ROAD!"  -  and all Muthuh trucks attacked. We lost the
battle in no time flat - and our adversaries did not merely ram us; when it
became  clear  that  we  were  losing,  their chief gave the order to start
boarding  our  vehicles,  keeping  them  in  one  piece. Theirs was a smart
leader.

The Muthuh's fought to the last man and lost. Me, I'm a professional - when
our  cause  was lost, I surrendered. And seeing that a military man without
an  outfit  is just so much wasted space, I offered them my services. Their
man Helgron accepted me, and for the first time in my post-war career I had
the  idea  I'd  joined  a group worthy of loyalty. Soon after that, I began
training their members and improving upon their car battle techniques.

Commander Raul Villiers

Everybody  knows  there  are  many  kinds  of politicians. Some of them are
merely slick, others lack integrity, still others are led by ambition only.
Perhaps  most  of  us  are weak, but surely we are all human. When I joined
J.T. Helgron's freedom fighters they were just about to rid themselves of a
man called Geoffrey Mulligan, a politician of the kind that might be called
"slick".  His  services  had not been satisfactory to the group, and when I
offered  them  my  own it didn't take very long before Mulligan was retired
and I became P.R.-representative and spokeswoman for the group.

As  anyone  with  a  tinge  of  perception  could see, J.T. Helgron had the
makings  of a winner. Not only did he have those qualities that we look for
in  a  leader,  he  also  had the backup of a great team - a loyal military
advisor, a competent physician, and a well-trained well-equipped resistance
force.  As  advisor  to  the  Chief,  my  first  and most important job was
establishing  and maintaining contact with other groups of people - whether
the  individual  neighbor  or  large  gangs  of  mobs,  mercenaries, street
gangsters,  rabble  or  needy  individuals;  I was the one called on first.
Then,  if  my  negotiations  were either unsuccessful or just not the right
method, and contact was still required, Helgron would send envoys. Usually,
this  would  mean a couple of armsmasters and some bodyguards; sometimes he
would  send escorts as well. I'm glad to say that in my time as go-between I
managed  to  make  quite  a  few contacts that worked satisfactory for both
sides. The Secretary of State, Paula Jackson.

3. Helgron's Highway Hoppers

As  a combined university graduate and ex-convict you can get to know a lot
of  different people. After disaster struck our country, most of my friends
were dead or gone - and the ability to make social contacts and finding the
right  people  for  the  right jobs became essential to the survival of our
community. I was not exactly elected mayor of the city (it was more like an
appointment  if anything), but the effect might have been the same. I spend
several months rallying all women, men and equipment that could be used for
building  a  new  society  - in the meantime expecting news from either our
government,  or the invaders. But half a year passed and there was still no
sign  of  anyone  taking  control - all I received were unconfirmed reports
about  cities being taken over by gangsters, invaders or satanists, and the
land terrorized by motorgangs.

Two  more months I waited before I came to realise that the growing threats
from  outside  and the increasing disease-spreading mutants inside our city
were going to kill us all unless something was done about it. So I took the
initiave,  asked  for  volunteers  and  started  an entirely new road gang,
intended  to  link rather than separate our nation's cities, under the name
of Helgron's Highway Hoppers. We started off with no more than a sports car
hard  top,  six  men  including  myself,  and  a  very  limited  storage of
supplies.

The  first  thing  I learned was that one vehicle wasn't going to make us a
formidable  road  force.  So  we  skimmed  the  city of some of its surplus
ironware  and  put together a six-vehicle fighting force - not more because
it was hard enough feeding the people needed to man the cars and also I was
aware  of  the  fact  that I needed much more experience in battle contacts
before  I'd  be  able  to  efficiently hold command over a larger number of
vehicles.

I was careful not to take too many small vehicles, but also not just busses
(good  for  shooting) or trailer trucks (great for ramming) because chances
were  that  people  would  outmaneuver us. When all was ready, I decided to
move  up to New York, to see if there was any such thing left as the United
Nations  Headquarters. From there on, we'd drive through the Northeast into
North  Central, hoping that cities such as Pittsburgh, Indianapolis and, of
course, Detroit would harbor possibilities to enhance our mechanics.

Moving  from  city to city looked easy enough on the maps but turned out to
be  quite  a problem in reality. Some of the multitude of road gangs we ran
into  minded  their  own  business  and steered clear from us, but the vast
majority  of  wheelers  declared  us  easy  prey and attacked on sight. Now
anyone  with  the  slightest  shimmer  of  tactical insight knows that it's
relatively  easy for a well-trained six-vehicle roadgang to make short work
of  a  couple of blindly attacking sidecars. Suicidal is the right word for
'em. But the point is, if you don't watch it even sidecars can be the death
of  you  -  because  ramming damages your cars, and you can always fix flat
tires  but you just can't have structural repairs until you're in a town or
city.  Major  repairs  have  to be sought in such places as taxi garages or
high school mechanics departments. And many is the time I lost a vehicle to
relatively  inferior  combat  groups  simply because we had trouble finding
repair centers in time.

So  after  a while we came in control of various cities, because in a town
controlled by Lawful National Guardsmen I keep myself to the rules, but for
invaders,  satanists,  and  gangsters  I have no mercy. Upon entering a new
town,  we always looked around for a good while. In the beginning, this was
dangerous, but once we found ourselves a special way of preserving food and
also  had  ways  to  make  do  with  fuel  much  longer, our supply-worries
decreased.  What really scared me was the ever increasing number of attacks
by  diseased  mutants  -  because  antitoxin  was  hard  to  come by. After
controlling  some  eight  cities  we came into contact with GUB personnel -
first a password, then their location. They had established themselves in a
town  controlled  by reborners, who don't put up any resistance but as they
are  a  peaceful and lovable bunch it's unnecessary to take over control in
their  cities - besides which, I've learned to respect my men's loyalties &
sympathies.  As  to the GUB director, he required our help. And got it. Not
only because he seemed a standup guy; mostly because here, finally, I'd met
someone with a plan. And the way I saw it, a pretty good plan.

We started on our own little cruisade then, conquering cities no longer our
goal,  and  went  from  one  part  of  the country to another to locate GUB
agents.  Which  would  have  been a piece of cake if it hadn't been for the
road gang wars going on. Some of these guys gave us a really hard time, and
before  long I came to realize that without extra training and tactics we'd
soon  share  the  fate  of  so many of our adversaries. I consulted with my
fresh  new  drill  sergeant  and  both  of us agreed that more training was
essential - preferably in a city because it's good to have a chance to make
repairs in between fights.

After  "enhancing" our battle tactics, basically by eliminating some of the
multitude  of  mistakes  I'd been making hitherto (such as shooting through
the  front  of  a  bus,  where anyone could see that side-fire is much more
effective),  sergeant  Villiers and I decided that fifteen vehicles was the
absolute   max  in  terms  of  manageability,  crew  nourishment  and  fuel
consumption.  In  the  end of June, we left our training base and once more
hit  the  roads - this time as a well co-ordinated, superbly trained combat
team.  And  although  we  still lost a minor vehicle now and then, we never
again  came  anywhere  near  losing them all. We located six agents without
much  trouble,  and brought them back to GUB HQ. After our last "delivery",
the  GUB  director  handed us their last radio. Used as a homing device, we
had  little trouble finding our last two lost souls. At the end of October,
we  returned  the 8th agent from the scattered GUB team to homebase, thus
concluding  the  first phase in the Battle for a Re-United America. And the
very  next day I found myself being pushed into the undesirably responsible
seat  of  President.  Democracy?  Come on, I didn't even put myself up as a
candidate.  I  was  framed - showed me once more that I'm a real sucker for
flattery;  people  telling  me how indispensable I am & more such nonsense.
Damn my ego; this is one four year job I'm not anxious to perform.

But then, someone has to. And fact is a lot of road gangs listen to me now.
Time we healed our country and kicked out the rest of these invaders.

So  far for the hidden hints & tips. What follows is what you need to do to
play  Roadwar  2000  "from  scratch".  First,  make  sure you have an extra
(formatted)  disk  that  can  be  used to save a game on. Keep the original
write-protected. Second, insert the game disk. When the program asks if you
want to load an old game - say "no". Next, give your roadgang a name.

Now you're ready. Simple, really.

Seeing how the manual supplied with the game is, if anything, overcomplete,
I  will  refrain from what would be a totally redundant set of instructions
and  explanations. It's all in the book, and anyone who really wants to get
to  the  bottom  of Roadwar 2000 will find himself well-occupied for a long
time - and that's just the rules I'm talking about. Tactics are up to you.



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