NationStates Jolt Archive

Northampton, Imitora; October 12th, 1984

The sky was dark with clouds and the air cool. It was common for the fall months in Imitora to be the home of heavy rains. But, the inhabitants had gotten used to it. They had also gotten used to the fact that Ginazian military soldiers were ever present in their stores, their restaurants, their shops, their lives. It was part of the territory in being a colony. Not that the Imitoran’s enjoyed it. They were just, used to it. Of course, being used to it didn’t mean that the seeds of revolt were not ever present.

Imitora hadn’t started off as a Ginaz colony. Originally, it was an uninhabited island in the ever calm pacific, devoid of life beyond the wild creatures of the world. Then one day, the proclaimed conquerors of the world, rulers of the seas, and reformers of the people landed. The British. It wasn’t long before the island, dubbed Imitora for some arcane reason, became a bustling hub of trade and industry. The island was large, more than three times as large as the British Isles combined, so it offered plenty of living space and opportunities for a new life. However, there was the simple issue that unlike the British, those who actually settled in Imitora were fiercely Catholic.

And when the decision came to choose to keep Imitora as a claim, or drop it, the island was dropped, because more pressing matters between Protestantism and Catholicism were popping up in Ireland, which was by far closer to home. It wasn’t long before the accent and mannerisms had disappeared, and soon, all British roots had been removed.

At one point, no one really knew when, the small nation was visited by a few explorers from Ginaz, and it wasn’t long before Imitora was once again a colony. However, this time around, the Imitorans wouldn’t wait for them to leave. From the colonization in the late 1800s to today, tensions between the Ginazians and Imitorans were, to say the least, high.

It was a Friday, and a good number of troops were on leave, and the small cafes and coffee houses in Northampton had become a stopping point for most of the soldiers. This was the day it would stop.

In front of one of the small cafes, a red Toyota truck pulled up, and stopped. Five men, dressed in black shirts, fatigues trousers, and wearing ski masks disembarked. A few people looked on, but the rest of the street goers just ignored them. One of them reached into the truck, and removed a large black object. He walked to the hood of the car, manipulated the object, and pointed it at the café. Suddenly, a burst of gunfire blasted forth, shattered the glass, and several of the soldiers dropped. The man rotated his M60, and fired more, the 7.62mm NATO rounds slamming into the side of a HMMWV, shattering the glass, tires, and killing the one occupant, the driver.

This, along with the other four men running into the café, got the attention of the onlookers. Some screamed, others ran, and others just stood and watched. The other four walked in, removed Ingram made Mac10s from under their navy blue pea coats, and opened fire, spraying the deadly .45ACP ammo into the soldiers. The made sure to only hit the Ginazians. They ran out of the café, and jumped into the truck, which sped off.

All across the nation, more attacks of the same nature were carried out. Men with AK47s, M16A1s, M60s, varying submachine guns, and in a few cases RPGs, were striking at Ginazian troops. Car bombs exploded outside the private houses of those known to be pro Ginazian, and threats poured into the many Ginazian political headquarters. Police officers known to be in support of Ginazian ideals were gunned down in the streets.

It was less than an hour after the first attack when a messenger delivered a videotape to the headquarters of the Ginazian governor of Imitora. His body was later found dead, a self inflicted wound to the head with a note reading “Freedom” pined to his chest. When inserted into a tape player, a man appeared on screen, wearing a black ski mask, black shirt, and kahki pants. His voice was low, but enough to be heard over the background noise, and very, very serious. He stood in front of the flag representing the Imitoran Freedom Coalition (OOC: the Irish flag with a fist holding an M16 and the skull as seen on my current flag in the middle), and held an AK.

“You have just experienced the first wave of attacks. More are to come if you do not head our warning. For to long you have oppressed our peoples, and interfered in our lives. Today is the beginning of the revolution, and we will be free. You cannot defeat our cause. Your oppressive ways are coming to an end. The blood of those loyal to you will flow in the streets if you do not leave. Your blood to shall be spilled, and the gates of hell will be crowded with your souls. You have twenty four hours to remove all Ginazian influences, and leave our lands. Victory favors the bold.”

As soon as the word ‘bold’ left his lips, an explosion was heard, and felt. The main airport, over three miles away, was now under a blanket of acrid black smoke. A van carrying 500 pounds of high explosive C4 had been detonated in the garage directly under the main terminal.

General Colonel Aleksey Andreyev, the military governor of Imitora sat quietly in his office near the Northampton International Airport, leaning back on his chair, relaxing and smoking a cigar. A four-star general, Andreyev commanded the two armies that were occupying and keeping calm in Imitora. Thank god those blasted Imitorans have stopped their demonstrating... But his relaxation was about he end. Just as he closed his eyes, several aides entered the room, one of them clutching a tape. All of them were pale. Taking one look at the aides, Andreyev cursed.

"What now?" he said in annoyance.

"Sir, a messenger just delievered this tape," said the aide clutching the tape, "and we have reports from units stationed throughout the islands that they are under attack by these Catholic rebels..."

"These blasted blackguards," Andreyev muttered as the aide put the tape into the VCR. As he watched the tape, Andreyev's face turned from annoyance to one of anger. How dare these Catholic heretics dare attack soldiers of the Grand Empire of Ginaz!?! They will pay for this impudence. Just as the tape ended, a massive explosion occurred
at the main terminal. As Andreyev followed by his aides ran outside, he watched in horror at the carnage over at the terminal. My god... There were a company stationed there...

Turning to the nearest aide, a major, Andreyev said, "Major Eistein, get a firefighting company there now. And get a message off to home islands. We have a full scale revolution on our hands."

As the major saluted, Andreyev began to think if the Ginazi military could handle the Imitorian revolt. Damn't. I'll pummel this island to pulp before I withdraw. You've killed innocent soldiers. I will make you pay.

Within minutes, the tape was aboard a 757 bound for the home islands...

Ryan Colsten trotted through the woods, moving quickly, yet quietly at teh same time. He carried a silenced Mac10, and wore US Style Fatigues. He also wore a ski mask.

Behind and to the left of him were three more similarly equiped men, all tracing their target, a Ginazian Police Chief, through the woods just outside Dales, in the midwestern region of the Island. As teh target came into view, they readied their submachined guns, leveling them on the head and torso of the chief. When they were less than ten feet away, the opened fire.

The satisfying sound of the .45cal rounds boucing off the steel plated target satisfied the men, and they watched the round dent the metal. They let their weapons go, slings catching them as the dropped, and turned and walked back to teh small cottage like strutcure that they had built for a hide away.

"Good kills out their K-Freeze," one of the men said to Colston. He had nailed several other steel targets earlier that day. "SO when we gonna go through with this?"

"As soon as we get teh word from uptop. There are at least two more big hits in Northy, plus one Housdon, before we get our shots. Best to keep training, stay in shape," He replied, changing into a pair of jogging shorts and a nike tshirt. "So who wants to go out for a run?"

They all quickly changed, boarded a Toyota Cammery, and drove tothe city, where the proceded to run a mile through the downtown area, before comming to stop at an electronics store, and watched on a TV the acts going down in Northampton. Colston supressed a smile. All was going to plan.

*tags*

Good stuff Imi. Looking forward to the rest of it.

Andreyev slammed his hand down upon his desk in anger, as he read the casualty reports. Over the past three hours, the two army divisions had suffered over 3,000 casualties. The bloody bastards are being bloody cowards... Extremely angry, Andreyev ordered marital law to be imposed. Within ten minutes, Ginazi military personnel had surrounded every major city in Imitoria and closed the streets. They had orders to shoot first and ask questions later.

Andreyev than wrote a short transmission back to the homelands requesting more troops and equipment. Andreyev knew that his entire military career was now banked upon his ability to readily quell the revolt.

Ginazi--Capital City of the Ginazi Archipelago

Meanwhile, back at the home islands, the Council of Elders were in heated discussion. The Interior Minister, Yvegeny Sergetov, and the Financial Minister, Jericho Noret, favored withdrawal from Imitoria, while the Defense Minister, Ivan Kazank and the Intelligence Minister, Howard Penderson.

"This is madness. We are spending billions of dollars in Imitoria without a single cent in return," said Noret pounding his fists upon the table.

"Are you going to let these Catholic heretics achieve independence? This is insufferable! We will crush them," Kazank sputtered.

"Brave words, Ivan, but how can we fight a war in which we can't even see our opponents?" Sergetov asked keeping a level head, "Plus the situation at home have steadily deteriorated. We need to concentrate on domestic issues. Screw Imitoria."

Narrowing his eyes, the Head Elder stood up and raised his hands, signaling for the others to quiet down. In a calm voice he said, "It is too early for a decision to be made. Ivan, I want you on the next plane to Imitoria. I want a full analysis of the revolt currently in process. Be careful."

"Yes, Elder..."

"Very well, dismissed."

There had been a lull in the attacks after the first three hours, as if the rebels had stepped back, letting the day go. However, police units were still quiet ready, looking out for anythgin suspicious. Many felt safer now that the militayr had set up a martial law system.

Two teenagers sat and watched the military set up in positions of cover, watching for further attacks. Neither said anything, just watched. They were fascinated with the units, impressed with teh efficiency of the Ginazian troops.

One of them shrugged, and hopped on a Kawaksaki made dirt bike. His buddy did hte same, and they took off back towards their house.

Meanwhile at Port Stepson, on the eastern side of the island, several dockworkers watched news of the attacks on the television. The were both in awe and disgust at the attacks. Several new networks were showing uncensored footage of the attacks, with pictures of soldiers lying dead in teh streets, blood pooled around bullet wounds, and chuncks of shrapnel spread out around bomb sites.

One of the dockworkers smiled. He too, was part of the IFC, and had been assisting in the setting up of several attacks as well. In one of the ships he was loading, a Ginazian cargo ship, several structural explosives had been set, and he had made sure that when blown, the hull of the ship would have been compromised to teh point of extremes.

He turned to watch the ship as it pulled out of port, loaded not only with cargo, but crewed by several hundred Ginazian citizens. As teh ship passed out of the port, he reached into his pocket, and depressed a button on a small black cylinder, about the size of a cigar.

The explosion ripped through the ship, and a large hole, directly under the ship, blew open. Water quickly surged into the ship, and Coast Gaurd units would be pressed for time to quickly rescue the occupants of the ship. The man quicklly turned towards the gates, and started to run to his car.

OOC: Thanks Pantera, glad ya like it.

OOC: I second that Pantera, lookin good Immy, and err, always willing to help rebels seeking LIBERTY..my RLD's could do some good :-D

(OOC: The garrison force of two divisions was awfully small and definitely unrealistic considering the size of your nation, so I’m changing the number to nine divisions.)

General Colonel Andreyev sat quietly in his office within the Ginazi military base near the Northampton International Airport. He was angry, very angry. In the past several hours casualties had climbed up. According to the latest figures, the Ginazi troops had suffered more than 3600 casualties.

But he knew that the casualty figures would only rise as the rebellion continued. Several hours earlier after an explosion occurred at the main terminal at the airport, Andreyev had ordered the imposition of marital law throughout the islands. But, he knew that because he only had two divisions to garrison the entirety of Imitoria that he would be unsuccessful.

As his mind sought out a course of action, a communications officer entered the room.

“General Andreyev, we’ve received a transmission from the home islands. The Defense Minister is on his way, sir. He’s aboard a 747 and his estimated time of arrival is 2100 hours sir.”

“Damn’t, 4 hours from now. Dismissed, captain.”

Andreyev watched as the captain saluted and exited room. Then turning his thoughts to the imminent arrival of the Defense Minister, Andreyev slammed his fist into the table hard. Angry, Andreyev knew that his career was now in jeopardy. Cursing, Andreyev called for his chief of staff. Moments later, General Brigadier Ishmael Pendleton entered the room and saluted.

“Sit down, Ishmael. We have important business to discuss.”

“Yes sir,” replied Pendleton as he sat down.

“I want the 132nd Motor-Rifle Division and the 99th Tank Division readied for an attack that we will be making.” Andreyev said.

“But, sir, the 132nd’s armored vehicles are all in disrepair…”

“God damn’t, I don’t have time for this! I want those vehicles repaired now! The 289th Motor-Rifle Division will take the place of the 132nd, but if the 132nd is ready for combat in three days, I will personally make sure that every single one of its officers wished that they were never born!”

“Yes sir,” replied Pendleton grimly.

“I want them to go straight to Northampton and take up position throughout the major highways. I authorize them to shoot first and ask questions later. Tell them to screw the Imitorians over. I don’t care how and I just want the fucking results.”

“Yes sir…”

“How many units does that give us holding Northampton?”

“That’ll give us two Motor-Rifle divisions, a Tank division, and a reinforced battalion of artillery.”

“Good… That should be enough. We should be able to make any revolt in Northampton very bloody for these bastards.”

“Yes sir,” Pendleton said as he saluted and exited the room.

Within half an hour the two divisions were on their way, commanded by General Lieutenant Roger Allen (three-star general), their vehicles proceeding at 85 kilometers per hour along the highway, bound for the city center of Northampton. Overhead a dozen Mi-24 Hind Attack Helicopters along with three MiG-23 Flankers, four F-4F Phantoms, and a pair of A-10 Thunderbolts, patrolling over the military convoy. Two divisions of troops remained behind at the military base, one paratrooper division and the Avalon Guards, an elite Tank Division, supported by artillery, helicopters, fighters, and bombers.

Meanwhile, at the main terminal, the Ginazi firefighting company had finally stopped the fire after more than 3 hours of attempting to put out the blaze. The officer in charge, a major, watched anxiously as the firefighters began to pull out of the smoldering wreckage the burned and charred bodies of the men in the company assigned to the terminal. Next to the major was a lieutenant, the highest ranking survivor of the now obliterated company who swore colorfully under his breath, each time a body was pulled out. So far, the company had suffered over 793 casualties, or nearly 80% of its effectives, many of them missing. All of the Ginazi personnel were in a foul mood…

To prove the point, several Imitorian businessmen waiting in the lobby of another terminal for a flight out of the Imitoria were taken by Ginazi military police. They were immediately brought before a hastily drawn-up military tribune, who summarily found them guilty of sabotage. The businessmen were first castrated and then boiled alive in a massive pot of oil.

The man wathced the movements across the highway through the lense of his scope. The bolt action rifle was far from an actual sniper rifle, it was simply a .303 bolt action hunting rifle. However, a regular every day hunting rifle would also kill someone as dead as a match acurised, custom made sniper weapon. However, his mission wasn't to kill, but to observe.

The rebels had just recieved a small, but still effective, shipment of black market anti-air, man portable, missles. Ten Stinger missles that had been shanghied from Afghanistan. He observed the fighters, they would be easy targets, flying low to offer air cover.

He also noted that, at the speed the Motor-Rifle Division was moving at, it would take approxamately 18 minutes to reach Highway 10, and from their, another 15 till they got to downtown Northampton.

With that knowledge, he went ahead and radioed one of the Northampton companies, telling them what he had seen. His hope was that they would be able to blow the connecting bridge between I-15 and H-10. The small group, fifteen operatives in all, still had twenty pounds of C4 left over from the airport explosion.

They quickly went to work, setting up pressure designated switches to blow the bridge. They didn't have much time to work, it had taken them near twenty minutes just to get to the bridge itself. They went to work quickly, but one of the advanced spotters sighted the moving 289th.

In haste, they blew the connectors, causing minor structural damage to the bridge. It wouldn't stop them, as they hand't achieved their goal of blowing a gapping hole in the bridge, but did severe damage to the support columns. Enough weight would cause teh bridge to collapse. It would, however, slow the division down enough as to get a few cells in Northampton ready for the counter strike.
___

In Housdon, the focus was on the attacks in Northampton and Port Stepson. This offered Colston's small cell of operatives to quickly go to work. They had returned to their car, which was parked in an alley, and changed. They were fatigued from their run, but energized with their mission.

It was close to 7:00pm, and the commander of the local garrison had always eaten dinner at a local Mexican resteraunt before heading home. And today he did the same, although under heavy military gaurd.

This wouldn't stop the cell from attacking, and now, in the small Toyota that was parked in the alley way across from the resteraunt, they readied themselves.

Colston prepared his weapon, an H&K G3, with a 200 round box magazine. It was heavy, but he had been using it long enough in training to get used to it. The other prepared their weapons as well, mostly Russian made AKs.

He looked through the generic brand 5x magnification scope, and sighted in the officer. It would be a hard shot, he was surrounded by gaurds and civilians, and the table was partially concealed behind a stucco pillar. Colston knew what he would have to do, and was ready to do it, but still scared.

He squeezed the trigger, and, along with his companions, sent steel jacketed death into the building, firing blindly at their target. Knowing that the man was still possibly alive, he jumped in the Toyota, and stepped on the gas, leaving his friends behind. He didn't want to kill innocents, but it had to be done.

Rounds from the Ginazian rifles slammed into the car, and a bullet caught him in the chest. He fell back, but retained pressure on the gas, fighting unconsciousness. The car slammed through the stucco and glass wall of the Mexican place, and he reached over, his last act of life was to flip a switch, detonating the bomb that had been placed on the car's gas tank in case a situation of opportunity, like this, had arised.

One of the Mi-24 pilots saw a glint of light off of something at the side of the road. Suspicious, the pilot flew his Mi-24 towards the area, his fingers on the helicopter's gatling gun.

Meanwhile, the lead battalion of the 289th Motor-Rifle Division had arrived at the bridge connecting I-15 and H-10. Swearing colorfully, the major decided to quickly sent ten M-2 Bradleys over the bridge. As the Bradleys raced over the bridge, the major watched praying for a safe crossing. When the last vehicle crossed the bridge, the major attempted to send a pair of M1A1 Abrams main battle tanks over the bridge, but the weight was too much and the bridge collapsed. Swearing, the major called in his engineering company, hoping to throw a new bridge across the river. Meanwhile, the rear elements of the 289th along with 99th Tank hearing about the destruction of the bridge split up, each taking a detour, one going east and the west.

Northampton

Ginazi control of the city had steadily deteriorated. Lacking sufficient equipment and complacent after a decade of long occupation, the Ginazi troops of the 73rd Motor-Rifle Division were caught unprepared by the sudden revolt. The 6th Home Guard Brigade, a unit consisting of Imitorians "loyal" to the Ginazi occupation revolted and striking against the rest of the division. Unprepared and surprised, the Ginazi troops retreated out of the city...

OOC: Sorry I wasnt able to post yesterday, I'm working on a big, bad ass post for this.