NationStates Jolt Archive

The wood targets seemed to explode with impact, splinters flying off as the 10mm jacketed hollow point rounds slammed into the representative heads and bodies of terrorists, hostage takers, and other wise bad people.

"Hold fire!" the shout came, and a youngish looking man, no more than say, thirty, walked behind the shooters. Fourteen men stood, lined up on a firing range, each holding an MP5/10. The H&K submachine guns were silenced, with a laser dot projector mounted in the handgaurd, and a reflex scope. He looked down range at the targets, all torn to shreads. He smiled.

The men were all proficient in the use of the weapons they had to use. MP5/10s, P90s, M4s, and other tactical sub machine guns and rifles. However, profieceny is shooting was only as good if the men were experts in other fields. All 14 were experts at Close Quarters Battle, tactical assault, stealth movemnet, and the other required abilites. They all had a basic understanding of field first aid. They were expert hostage rescuers.

All of the men, the one walking included, had all been members of one of the main Imitoran specialty units. ICMC Force Protection and ICMC Specialty Recon, Imitora Federal Crime Division HRT and IFCD SWAT, and the Imitora National Security Division Special Oeprations Section. They had all, as the saying goes, been there and done that. Several had fathers and mothers who served in the same specialty units.

However, despite being the literal best of the best, they had one limitign ability. They could only be in one place at a time. And life was gettin busy. It was time for another team.

Giovanni looked out towards teh didstance, where a small puff of smoke signaled the impact of another sniper's target being blown to bits. Nice shot, Ding, he thought.

He went to a computer office in his office, which was in the building housing his law firm, Giovanni typed out a message, sending it to the heads of state for all ANH nations, through his fiance's (who happened to be the Imitoran President) computer.

[code:1:0ee2b52c18]To the esteemed leaders of the ANH nations. I'd like to announce the promise of marriage between me, Giovanni Forio, and the lovely President Elizabeth Waitkus. A date will soon be set, and all will be notified. Best Regards
Giovanni Forio[/code:1:0ee2b52c18]

However, the message recieved at certain terminals was a bit different.

[code:1:0ee2b52c18]Look for shooters, snipers, all around bad asses. Special project. Must have expirience. Dont send ass wipes, but jerk offs are ok. Thanks much. Transportation will be paid for, dont bother with equipment. Thanks much
Giovanni Forio[/code:1:0ee2b52c18]

The message was received at the AIA headquarters, in particular the GIS department, in Downtown Sicilia. It reached the desk of a certain Benjamino Mortacapo, the adminstrating head of the elite unit. I know who to send this to he thought. Then fowarded it adding only one sentence.

«Want to get back in the game?»
_____________________________

Vinny read this message with interest. Life in hiding in North Islandia was neither dangerous nor exciting. When he finished reading he began to type out a response, placing his bowl of fukkien chow mein down.

Hey Paisano, hope this isn't a waste of my time, but I'm up for this stuff. Got a couple of friends too. Address enclosed. Peace .

As usual, the Iansislean Ministry of Foreign Affairs was the last to recieve any news from the outside world. The message had to be transfered to hardcopy by experts working for IanCorp, Int, first, then re-forwarded to Lord MacIntyre's desk.

It sat there for quite some time, before at last reaching Subminister Edwards when a large pile of papers tipped over, and he was delegated to clean it up. Edwards reported it to Prime Minister Dhawan at once, who was - as always - furious at the delay. However, in the message was contained something that made him happy.

"Sounds like another job for the High King," he smiled, and Edwards smiled back, though he was secretly wondering how a state visit to Imitora would be better than the King's courting an Imitoran national.

As usual, the Iansislean Ministry of Foreign Affairs was the last to recieve any news from the outside world. The message had to be transfered to hardcopy by experts working for IanCorp, Int, first, then re-forwarded to Lord MacIntyre's desk.

It sat there for quite some time, before at last reaching Subminister Edwards when a large pile of papers tipped over, and he was delegated to clean it up. Edwards reported it to Prime Minister Dhawan at once, who was - as always - furious at the delay. However, in the message was contained something that made him happy.

"Sounds like another job for the High King," he smiled, and Edwards smiled back, though he was secretly wondering how a state visit to Imitora would be better than the King's courting an Imitoran national.

No... :twisted: This is gonna be too fun...

TAG

Giovanni looked at his first repsponse. Another Itallian, not bad, he thought. He found an internet travel site, and ordered some tickets for the man. ]Five should be enough he thought, punching in his credit card number. He turned from teh computer after ordering the tickets, and went back to looking over his docket for the day.

drop kick

Javin read the announcement with a great deal of interest. He'd been in the diplomatic office for far too long. And he hadn't gone back to finish his degree in Archaeology after his adventures in the SLAGLands. He'd been itching to get back in the game. The rescue mission for Lady Katherine and the twins had proven that.

After a few moments of thought, he'd punched up a letter to his brother.


Takeo,

After much deliberation, I am resigning from the post of Special Envoy for Larkinia and am requesting to be assigned for special training in Imitora as soon as possible.

Javin.

A response came back quickly from the President's office.


Javin,

Understand your concerns. You and your pal Nick will be assigned to undergo training in Imitora.

Takeo

*********

At the pick up point

Javin and Nick Parker stood, their duffle bags to the side as they talked about old times while waiting for their ride to Imitora.

A blac, non descript, as they always are, Ford Explorer pulled up to the 'pick up point.' The driver stepped out and nooded, taking their bags, and putting them in hte back. "Gentlemen," he said, opening the door for them.

OOC: I will get in tomorrow.

*Bump, allowing APTO nations in on this if they want*

Verton International Airport
Imitora, a few days later
____________________________

"Ahh, good old Imitora, always wanted to visit this place. I hear its more violent than Hell's Kitchen.", said Vinny, referring to a particularly shady part of Varisca.
"Yeah, who are we supposed to be meeting", replied Katherina, a former GIS operative.
"I think I see them now", answered Vinny. He started walking toward a black ford explorer, and motioned for the other two to follow him.

"I denti del lupo sono taglienti, no?", he said to the driver.

The man leanign against the Ford looked the two men over. He paused for a second, then spoke. "Ní hé lá na gaoithe lá na scoilbe." He took the men's bags, and put them in the back of the car, then walked around to the side and opened the back seat door for them. He then moved towards the front of the car, got in, and started the engine. He pulled out a cell phone, and spoke into it.

"Hey Ross, yeah, I got them. Yeah, they started spoutin of crap as soon as they got here. In Itallian. Yeah I guess they thought I was lookin for a code word or somethign. I dunno. We'll be there in about 15 minutes."

He hung up the cell phone, and backed out of the parking space. Before driving off, he looked back at the men. "Yes, the wolf's teeth are sharp. I've been bitten by one before."

"Eh, back in Saldenia we would have to go on the hunts. Damn wolves would eat all our sheep. First time I touched a gun that was", said Vinny.

"Where are you taking us?", said Santino, a former member of the Army's Templare Special Forces' Recon Unit.

"Where we work," teh man said, with a smile. THe ride was short, and soon they pulled up in front of a rather large office like building. It wasnt so much as tall as it was long. Ross got out of the car, and took the mens bags, and lead them inside. They were stopped by a secuirty gaurd.

"Can I help you?"

"Forio and Roth associates," Ross said, and no more questions were asked. He lead the men to a rather ornate looking room, and told them to sit at the table. He took their bags outside, and told tehm hed be back in a few minutes.

"I'm getting a seriously finnochio vibe from this place...I think one of these guys maybe fagase.", said Vinny.

In the other room, the bags were throughly searched, and all weapons, and other forms of gear was removed. The other man returned, dropping their bags on teh table. "We're expecting some more people to show up soon. Once they do, we'll get on with what this is about. Can I get either of you anythign?"

"no thanks", replied Katherina.
"I'll take water?", replied Santino
"Vodka...not watered down.", replied Vinny.

Ross went over to a mini bar, and pulled out a bottle of water and a small bottle of vodka, and placed tehm both on the table in front of the respective person.

"thanks", said Sonny.

Vinny just began drinking.

"So, what kind of stuff are you recruiting for?", asked Katherina.

"Stuff," he said, sitting across from them. "Fun stuff."

"Nice, things are terribly boring, especially when your in hiding in the Canada of the Eastern Azores.", said Katherina

"I bet," Ross joked. He looked over the three operative, physically anylyizing them.

"This place seems nice, whats your name?", asked Katherina.

"Ross Roth," he said, looking her over. Looks like a sniper, he said, eyeing her up.

"I'm Katherina Gallaso...nice to meet you"

ooc: going to bed, goodnight.

"Likewise," Ross said. The door opened, and another man walked in. He looked latino in descent, and was kinda short for his muscular build. He wore a nice suit, and carried a silver briefcase.

"Howdy Ross," he said, walking in. "These the newbs?" he asked looking down at them.

"You got it DMan," Ross said. "How was the trip?"

"Eh, it was a trip. Nothgin spectactular." He grabbed a cup of coffee, and walked out of the room.

At one point or another, Rotsh's phone rang. He pulled teh cellphone from his pocket, and began to talk. "Right? Can we fix it? Ok, get on it. Will do. I'm out."

He looked at the three Agrigentonians. "You guys wanna see why your here?" he asked, walking towards the door.

*Bump, allowing APTO nations in on this if they want*
OOC-All right!
IC-
The wind whistled towards them. The 2 men had been there for 6 hours, ghille suit clad, waiting for the target. Sure enough, the officer came, outside the warehouse to smoke a cigarrette. The spotter confirmed, and gave in the windage, range, and other information necessary. The sniper adjusted the starlight scope, as he adjusted the suppressed 7.62mm HVETC caseless. He squeezed the trigger, and the target was dead with a headshot. A simulated one, the MILES III gear just silently buzzed and the officer sat down. It was a 994 yard shot, but never the less, the spotter grabbed his M-32 and covered the sniper as the 2 moved away from the ledge of the cliff. The two continued on, until they heard a twig snap. They dropped to the ground, and realized the patrol almost on top of them. One began poking brush with the barrel of his gun, as the others watched patiently. The sniper creeped his hand toward the silenced M502 10mm Pistol, as the barrel came inches away from him. The spotter, out of the way, had already drawn his sidearm, as the barrel slowly moved toward the sniper. At the last possible moment, the sniper rolled away from the enemy soldier, and double tapped the chest and put one in the head, and quickly shifted to kill the other 3 to find them dealt with by the spotter. Another man came out of the brush, his smile obscured by the night.
"Sgt. Roiland, Sgt. Chavez."
The sniper and spotter, respectively, rose to their feet, followed by salutes.
"Sir."
"At ease. How was that?"
"Sir, that was not the hardest thing I've ever done." spoke Sgt. Diego Chavez, and indeed it was not.
"Good. Maybe you two can find more of a challange where your going next."
"Somalia? With the rest of MFR? Or Grozny?"
"Try Imitora."
"Sir?" this piqued James Roiland's attention. Usually if something happened in Imitora, SSA spooks got stuck with it.
"Not a combat deployment. Training and excersizes."
"Why us?"
"Because you're the best damn team in the unit. We leave this morning. Sleep on the plane."
The sound of the engines on the C/V-12 grew louder, as the men walked to the clearing and got on.
"This is Bravo-Sierra. I can't believe we got stuck with this." Chavez was not in a good mood.
"I can't see why he picked us, but orders are orders. I've always wanted to get out of here anyway."
--
They had slept on the flight. It was the captains voice that announced the landing approach, and the 2 sat up and waited as the plane landed.
"Imi-freaking-tora. Great." Chavez's mood had apparently not improved much at all.
"Better than a Bumfuq assignment. You know who we're supposed to be seeing?"
"Ahh, the reliable intel. Even during peacetime, they never tell you enough."

"Sure", replied Santino. He walked toward the Imitoran and was soon followed by his two companions.

NE-I Have a Chavez too, and hes a sniper, and oddly enough, his first name is Domingo....

"Right then, follow me," Ross said pointlessly. He led them into a back room, where the man Roth had called DMan was sitting. However, he was no longer wearing a buisness suit, but black BDUs and a grey 'Imitora Marines' tee shirt. At his feet was a partially disasembled Remmington 700. He held the bolt in his hand, gently rubbing it with gun oil.

"We got a job?" he asked, looking up. He smiled a toothy grin, as he bent forward to pick up is rifle.

"Good chance Ding, suit up, get your team. We leave in 30."

"My team?"

"John is out of town. Your is second in command, so its your team. Your call if you go in or not."

"Hell I havent been a front line shooter for a few months, hell yeah I'm going in," he said, enthusiasticlly, placing the bolt in the rifle, and tossing it over his shoulder, letting the sling catch.
_____

At the airport, a man dressed casually, leaning against a Mercuary Maurader, waited for the New Empirians.

NE-I Have a Chavez too, and hes a sniper, and oddly enough, his first name is Domingo....

"Right then, follow me," Ross said pointlessly. He led them into a back room, where the man Roth had called DMan was sitting. However, he was no longer wearing a buisness suit, but black BDUs and a grey 'Imitora Marines' tee shirt. At his feet was a partially disasembled Remmington 700. He held the bolt in his hand, gently rubbing it with gun oil.

"We got a job?" he asked, looking up. He smiled a toothy grin, as he bent forward to pick up is rifle.

"Good chance Ding, suit up, get your team. We leave in 30."

"My team?"

"John is out of town. Your is second in command, so its your team. Your call if you go in or not."

"Hell I havent been a front line shooter for a few months, hell yeah I'm going in," he said, enthusiasticlly, placing the bolt in the rifle, and tossing it over his shoulder, letting the sling catch.
_____

At the airport, a man dressed casually, leaning against a Mercuary Maurader, waited for the New Empirians.

OOC-Domingo Chavez... Where have I heard that name before?... Oh yeah, Clear and Present Danger, and also a sniper.
--
The 2 men walked across to the Marauder, carrying their luggage, which wasn't all that much anyway.

OOC: Domingo Chavez, super person for Clancy

IC:

The man looked at them, then hit the button to pop the trunk. He took their bags, and first wen through them, looking for anythgin they might have that could be equipment. "We gotta mkae this fast," he said, "we might have a demonstration right now for you."

OOC: What would he find in the bag?

"No problem."
OOC-Clothes, BDUs, toiletries, maybe a book or PDA. No weapons or military equipment.

After looking through the bag, the man nodded, and closed the trunk. "I'll take you to the office first, then will catch up with the others. Any questions?" ht asked, walking around to the front of the car.

Chavez looked up, scratching his head.
"Yeah, our 0-4, in his infinite wisdom, decided not to tell us what exactly we were going into, other than it involved Imitora, and some kind of excersizes."

"WEll, if all goes to plan, you'll be able to see whats going on. ITs an intresting concept really. If you like it, you stay, if nto, you go back to your old jobs. The pay is great, as long as you dont mind being a processor during the day and when not on duty."

"WEll, if all goes to plan, you'll be able to see whats going on. ITs an intresting concept really. If you like it, you stay, if nto, you go back to your old jobs. The pay is great, as long as you dont mind being a processor during the day and when not on duty."

Roiland looked up.
"Well, let's get going. I'd like to see the demo."

The man had been working for the private bank for fifteen years, and today, after beign fired for the mistake of someone else, had decided to make a change. He walked into the bank with four of his friends, two sawed of shotguns, an M16A2, and a Uzi. They also had, between them, near one hundred pounds of C4. He demanded that he get his job back, as well as three months of back pay. While the back pay was deemed a random number, the bank could afford it. However, they wouldnt pay.

The bank was private, and the owners refused to pay. They wouldnt negotiate with terrorists, and because they were a private enterprise, the government couldnt get involved. That meant that the local SWAT team could only do thier job if so invited by the bank. However, do to a nasty incident involving the SWAT team's sniper, the cheif of the bank's daughter, and a video cammera, that wasnt happening anytime soon. However, the cheif did accept the offer from another private enterprise to handle the job. THey would do it for free, as long as no questions were asked.

The cheif just hoped the problem would be solved soon.