NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This thread is two days after the events of the previous thread. If you weren't invited to the first part, don't even bother posting. I don't mind tags, but hijacking crap or anything completely unrelated will be completely ignored, and possibly reported to the Mods if it continues for more than one post.

IC:

"You understand how volitile this situation is, Grimzag?" Asked High Punisher Hrrachen wearily. The situation following the hostage crisis at the Chateau LaGord two days previously had caused more international mail to pour into the country than in the last 100 years. It had caused many sleepless nights, headaches and several people to hit the bottle. Hrrachen had been the only person to have all three interlinked.

"Hrrachen, I told you already: I've got the solution. We know who the bastards were that did this, now we can go and deal with them." Said the huge man impatiently. Warchief Grimzag Deathjaw, leader of the Dregruk armed forces, was not a man to let an enemy get away without retribution.

"Uh huh. And I take it this would be your version of dealing. What will it be this time? A nuclear bomb? Complete carpet bombing of the people who did this? Perhaps a full scale invasion? Or maybe all three?"

"You know I wouldn't come to you if was going to do that. I'd just do it. No, my idea involves everyone who was involved getting their own little chunk of revenge, ending this 'political turmoil' that you've been whining about."

"If you think I'm going to take that sort of abuse in my own office, then you're..."

"...Right. Look, just listen, will you? We get every nation who sent a delegate to the party thing, and ask them if they're willing to join in a joint-tactical strike against the people who held their representatives hostage. That way, we show we're actually doing something about it."

"I must be crazy, but that sounds like a good idea. I'll sent out the invitations."

"Promise them protection while they're here."

After a few telephone calls, a tired sounding dictation and a lot of re-writing, the message was sent out to every nation involved in the fateful party. The message, to put it simply, was a request that they attend a meeting to discuss what action was to be taken about the tragedy.

Republic House
Daiel, CO
10:43 a.m.

"...and that's taken care of," Speaker Michael MacFarlane said, sipping from his glass of water and glancing around to make sure he still had everyone's attention. "Next order of business... I received a message from Warchief Grimzag Deathjaw of Dreguk this morning. He's asked us to send a representative to a meeting regarding the attack on their party two days ago, at which Sara Davidson and Matthew Griffith were present. Now, Ms. Davidson isn't here to object, so I'm sending her back." He grinnned. "Mr. Griffith, I gather from the profanity-laced internal memo I received from you yesterday afternoon that you have no interest in going on any more diplomatic excursions in the near future. Is that correct?"

"F--- yes, sir," Griffith responded.

MacFarlane's grin broadened. "Very good. So it'll just be Ms. Davidson and Mr. Kane then." Andrew Kane's face fell. "Andrew? Any problems with that?"

Kane shook his head, a look of mock dejection on his face. "Not really, sir. I was just kind of hoping you'd pick Tara."

The Speaker watched his Secretary of Health and Education try to hide under the table, and laughed. "Ms. Grayson would be an ideal pick if, for example, Jondera was hosting a technology conference. As Secretary of Security, Enforcement, and Defense, you're an equally ideal pick when a country like Dreguk says it wants to discuss 'action'." He paused. "Any further questions or comments from anyone? No. Well, that's our agenda for the day. Get to work."

Cherry was sitting in a room with her boss, Maureen June, who'd already taken too many tranquilizers just to deal with the situation.

"Violence never solves anything, Cherry. That's why I'm not sending you to this conference thing."

"But, Ms. June, war is acceptable when they attack you. They have attacked Temme."

"They have not attacked us. They have nothing to do with us."

"Well, then, I'll go and state that that is the official policy of our nation."

"Good."

General Garand was still fuming over the hostage crisis he'd been a part of. He'd resolved to send a few of his people back to Dregruk for a bit of payback. The team consisted of Dekker Bray, his younger twin Jack, Mercutio Stillwater, and Peter Zion.

A Blackhawk chopper carried the team to their destination...

OOC: Sorry the post sucks, typing one-handed.

The Warchief grunted a few times as he flicked through his mail. Someone wanted to sell him double-glazing. He threw that one out the window. A response from Temme. He pulled the envelope apart and read the contents.

"No action?! They get held hostage, then decide not to do anything about it?! What the hell do they expect, the situation to just disappear if they're really quiet about it?" He growled.

He took another glug of his beer, then looked at his next envelope, this time from Mercenary Soldiers. Or rather, a report of Mercenary Soldiers' actions. A team was on route. "At least they see what'll happen if we sit on our arses..."

Finally, Copiosa Scotia. A favourable response, explaining that they would be attending the meeting as well. "Three replies..." He mused, finishing his beer and giving his eyes a rub. "We'll see how this turns out."

Fully refreshed, Kasper woke up and checked the mail. The mail came early at the Imperial Palace. "Hmm, an invitation to a conference to discuss retaliation to the terrorist attack at that Dregruk party." He woke up the Emperor.

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea. You think they'll let the cg come and listen too?"

"Maybe if we conceal their weapons, and tell the others their angry diplomats."

"Good plan."

And so Kasper typed up a reply to the invitation, saying that 12 representatives would come to the meeting, the two representatives that were at the party, and 12 other angry diplomats.

The Blackhawk's pilot hailed the control tower at the nearest Dregruk airport...

"RDMA Chopper Thunderball to Tower, come in Tower..."

The pilot's voice had a latino accent, slightly ghetto in his pronunciaition of certain syllables...

"This is control tower, Thunderball. You are cleared to land at priority strip four-zero-niner. Please proceed, over."

One of the officials in the tower turned to a man at a phone and said, "Send the message out to the 'chief immediately. Mercenary Soldiers have begun their landing."

"Yes, sir."

At the Imperial Estate, Emperor Alexander II met privately with the retired Commander of the Imperial Armed Forces Giuseppe Venizelli. They had a small office to themselves to discuss what had happened in Dregruk many hours prior. The office was scantily decorated, with only a few potted plants here and there. The Emperor sat on a comfortable armchair while Giuseppe was forced to sit on an Ottoman that the Emperor brought out from storage; it was ratty and full of dust.

"Sire, I believe we should assist Dregruk in retaliating against those who dared to take the international community hostage!" cried Giuseppe, with a hint of anger hidden beneath his words.

"Well, I wouldn't have given a damn if you died, you incompetent fool," retorted Alexander. "You were never a good Commander..."

Giuseppe sat on his little foot rest, contorting his face into one of disgust. How dare he call me an incompetent fool! Why, I made sure that our soldiers got plenty of holidays!

"However," Alexander continued, "I think we should take action. It will teach them to try to mess around with my authority. By them, I mean those terrorists. Maybe we'll send in those agents that I sent to rescue you and your family, plus a few ships and maybe a division or two of infantry. I'll contact the Dregruk government at once while you.. go home and suck your thumb. Now, begone. You're no longer involved in this."

Giuseppe got up and left, storming down the hallway. He never would have thought that the emperor would belittle him in such a way. As Giuseppe left the premises, Emperor Alexander II immediately sent in a letter to Dregruk to give them their stance on the whole situation. As he sent the letter, the troops and agents were preparing at once, and the infantry will be transported by sea.

"This is control tower, Thunderball. You are cleared to land at priority strip four-zero-niner. Please proceed, over."

One of the officials in the tower turned to a man at a phone and said, "Send the message out to the 'chief immediately. Mercenary Soldiers have begun their landing."

"Yes, sir."

The pilot's voice crackled over the comm system...

"10-04 Tower... Thuderball on approach..."

The chopper tounched down for the briefest of moments, during which four men departed the vehicle. One was a tall, very muscular man carrying an M4A1 Carbine. The next was an athletic-looking man with cold eyes & a serious-looking snipers' rifle on his back. The third stood out the most: Toned & athletic, yet clad in a trenchcoat, he was the only man on the team without a military uniform on. The last was a man of the same height & build as the third, yet he also carried a snipers' weapon; his looked to be one of a kind...

Royal Chambers, Ebony Palace, Frosternesse:

"Your Excellency, we have just received word that the Minister Crane and his wife have returned to the capital," said a lowly aide as he bowed low before the emperor. "He has requested to see you, sire."

"Well send him in! One of my own ministers hardly needs permission to see me; especially one who just went through a hostage situation," ordered the emperor sternly.

"I shall bring him in at once my lord." With that, the aide dashed off and a haggard Minister Crane hobbled into the chambers.

"Emperor Merefrost, I have come to report my wife and I are in good health and offer counsel. Please hear me," said Crane, unable to bow.

"Speak Jean, I would gladly hear all that you would say," said the emperor.

"We must aid Dregruk in hunting down these vile terrorists. Our honor demands it, they dared to hold a minister of great Guarde Primus as hostage! I request you send out a shuttle with a squad of Royal Elites to Dregruk. They have done counter terror work before, they would be well suited to the task," said Crane professionally.

"Indeed, but I shall send the Minsteress of Defense along with them to oversee things," said the Emperor. "I shall a response to Dregruk drafted at once."

*The emperor send a letter telling Dregruk that a squad of Royal Elites were on a shuttle to Dregruk to aide in the hunting and decimation of the terrorist organization. It also notes the quad is to be accompanied by Ministress of Defense, General Robin Fran Conner. It lists her qualification as well.*

OOC: Sorry for the lazy ass letter response, I'm too tired to get a real nice response written, but I don't want to hold things back or get left behind. Here's a photo reference for the Royal Elite men. There are 8 in the squad.Heavy armored Royal Elite (http://home.comcast.net/~sargoth/tropper2.jpg) They do have lighter armor available to them, but that's the heavy combat gear.

OOC: We'll wait 'til just about everyone who was in the first part says something, then we'll go ahead with the meeting itself, rather than waste our time with "Such and such have arrived" or "Such and such can't come".

Ministerial Lunch Room, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Sohi City, The Water Cooler

"And that is why a little powdered sugar is always nice." Finished Lord Minster Barden. As the men sat back unbuckling their belts, an aide came in with a piece of paper which he handed to Barden before wondering if it would be rude of him to take a piece of fruit.

“Thank you Shmme.” Barden said dismissively, indicating that if he so much touched to fruit he would be beaten to death by the other people in the room with the very fruit he coveted so. “Hmm, what’s all this…held hostage…terrorists…Boys, I think we are going to have to eat that cake another time. A crisis is devolving as we speak.”

Ministerial Boardroom Room, Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Sohi City, The Water Cooler

The men sat around a screen watching the battered Sir Searcey recount his terrible experience.

“So he hit you! And to think I was going to invite them for a ball.” He said as he mentally crossed Magnus Valerius of this list.

“Ehh…Sir. About the request.” A Assistant-Minister said softly.

“Oh that. Can we send some help? I am sure the Emperor would like the chance to see our Elite forces division in use.” The men all nodded to themselves and after a celebratory brandy, they then commanded Searcey to serve as the Coolers diplomatic contact in Dregruk until the situation was resolved.

A message was quickly drawn up and sent via encrypted telegram to Dregruk.

“Dear Sir,

We are suitably outraged at the news of the hostage situation.

Pursuant to our Most Holy and Omnipotent Emperors requests and wishes we have dispatched two Manipulus’ (a grouping of 250 soldiers, plus the relevant support and logistics personal) of the most elite of the elite Water Coolian soldiers, the IED. to help assist in the quelling of the Terrorist threat. Furthermore, the troops shall be accompanied by half of the 15th fleet, and appropriate helicopter support. The task force shall be lead by Major Captain Js`ak, a seasoned and highly capable officer.

Further troops and such will be available on request, however we are hopeful that our task force, coupled with your own forces, and the additional forces of fellow embattled nations shall be sufficient to squash the threat.

We look forward to assisting you with this problem, and furthermore we will take this sign of allowing our forces to assist you as a declaration that the actions of the terrorists group are not state sanctioned, either in full or part.

Sincerely,
Lord Minster Hizen Barden,
Ministry of Foreign Affairs,
The Water Cooler”

Meanwhile the forces where being prepared, ready to ship out at the end of the night.

Somewhere in Dregruk

Searcey walked around, not quite sure where he should be. He was sure a meeting was going on, but where...

Spotting what appeared to be a Goverment officers he asked in what he hoped was a cheerful tone

"I say old chap perhaps you could direct me to High Punisher Hrrachen. Or is it Warchief Grimzag Deathjaw. Hmm, I'm not sure. I need to be at a meeting..."

The Officers looked slightly amused at the man, but they had been given the strictest orders to direct everyone who requested to see the Warchief directly to the specially set up meeting.

"Follow me, sir." One said gruffly, and turned to walk off.

Dekker Bray, the largest member of the group, led the team away from the chopper as it took off again, leaving them in Dregruk...

They caught a passing taxi outside of the airport, having slid their longarms into more passable carry-cases...

"The government buildings... Make it fast."

Dekker briskly said to the cabbie... A few minutes later they where there.
Stillwater led the way this time, a soft-case containing his rifle slung over his left shoulder...

"Where's Grimzag's office?"

He inquired at the front desk...

Kasper, the Emperor, and ten other "angry diplomats" were dropped off a few blocks from the government buildings. The Clown Gang, which consisted of ten members: Raptor, Fang, Demon, Chomp, Victor, Varmint, Zeus, Trident, Mammoth, and Zephyr, had custom suits on over their battle gear, which held all their combat weapons--most of which were actually non-lethal--and communication devices. Zephyr was muttering, "Please no metal detectors, Please no metal detectors...."
Varmint overheard him and consoled: "Don't worry, if they stop us, I have a plan."
Raptor was talking with Fang about their last mission. "Remember the last time we were here? I think we're talking with Grimzag. I wonder if he's any different from when he had the chip in his brain. Rumor has it he's still really manic."
"How long has it been?"
"I don't know....one or two years? It's been like our only action as a full team ever."
Kasper was talking with Emperor Catsendt about the last time they were in Dregruk.
"Remember the last time we were here? I think we're talking with Grimzag Deathjaw. I hear he once got a chip put in his brain. I wonder if he's any different! Rumor has it he's still really manic."
"How long has it been?"
"Dude....it was like 3 days ago."
"Oh yeah."

OOC: This thread will be considered closed to new arrivals (People who've been invited but haven't shown up yet) in exactly 1 day from now. Make a post to secure your place, otherwise you're out of the running.

Ooc:

Place Holder

OOC:

Another Placeholder...

OOC: Sorry folks, this thread is now officially closed.

IC:

The meeting room was set up carefully; a massive oak table with wooden chairs around it. The table had been lined out for specific parties, each part for various groups.

The foreigners were led into the room through different doors by soldiers, who pointed out their seats then returned to their posts at the outside edge of the room. When everyone was seated, Warchief Deathjaw came in in his full uniform, pistols and all. He took a seat at the very front of the table, flanked by some serious looking men who never said a word.

"Welcome to Dregruk, everyone. Now let's cut the usual political bollocks and get straight to the matter we're here for; what are we going to do about the terrorists that attacked the diplomatic meeting 2 days ago? We're open to suggestions."

Searcey suddenly jumped up, a mischievous smile on his face

“I say, let's send someone to infiltrate them, and then when we find out their location we blow them to Hades with some nice big ICBMs or some such. Jolly good things those ICMBs.”

He then sat down and looked around the room encouragingly. He then glared at the Magnus Valerius representive fingering his black eye softly.

"We already have their location," Said the huge Warchief. With the wave of a hand, a map rolled down behind him. "These 'Terrorists' are a special forces unit. Or rather, they were. What you're looking at is a map of the outlying islands of Dregruk. The big one here," He pointed to one of the islands, "Is home to what we believe to be their headquarters.

"These men belonged to the nation of... somethingorother. I can't remember. But apparently, they were kicked out for their unorthodox methods of getting results. This included kidnapping, blackmail and, of course, hostage taking. The question is; what do we do with this information?"

Varmint had an idea. "A-hem. We should send in a crack team, infiltrate their base, capture and-or kill them all. By the way, there are no members of a crack team present at this meeting......"

The delegate that had from Magnus Valerius was Commander Rich Dal-Riada. Dressed in his black, blue, and silver Imperial Elite Guard uniform and wearing a long sabre at his side, he looked at Searcey with his fierce, cold eyes. A silver double-headed eagle brooch was pinned on the left portion of his chest, and the various medals and patches on his arms and uniform denoted him as an experienced and high-ranking official in the Imperial military.

'Damn... those Coolians sure will screw something up. It happened in the past with Eugenica,' thought Dal-Riada.

But, turning away from Searcey and focusing on the matter at hand, Dal-Riada offered his input on the situation. "Sir, The Imperial Fleet is vast, and I think maybe it would be wise to keep the island blockaded with a fleet? Maybe we can also send in ships to bombard the island. The bombardment from the ships and possible distraction with planes from carriers would provide good cover while our troops make a beach head and crush the terrorists."

Grimzag shot a look at the 'diplomats' from Maniaca, and half grinned when he recognised them. He turned back to everyone else gathered, then stood up. "I'm glad to say that all your ideas are the essentially the same as our idea. So I'll explain what we'll do about these buggers."

He walked over to the map and made a circle around it with his finger. "Like you said, we're going to make a blockade around the island. We'll use the combined Dregruk and Imperial Fleet to do this. However, we don't want to alert them to our presence just yet. From the intel we've gathered, the island has pathetic detection equipment. The only thing that would alert them to a fleet being there would be a full scale naval bombardment."

He then tapped his finger on one of the beaches. "We believe that this beach is a perfect landing zone, so we'll be going in via amphibious landing craft."

"This is our plan; we send our best 10 men in in the way I just described. We enter the base, then throw subtlety out the window. These nuts need to learn that you never, ever crash a Dregruk party. We'll start a naval bombardment of the entire island, keeping them distracted while our teams enter the base. We should be safe inside it, as recon suggests that the base is inside a mountain. From then on in, we kill everything that moves, and find out why they decided to attack us."

He sat back down. "Any objections?"

The Guardean defense ministress leaned back in her chair. She smoothed a crease in her otherwise perfect black and gold uniform and thought the warchief's plan over to herself. "So he wants us to go in, find out why they attacked us, then kill every living thing that dared defy Frostg- err Dregruk... excellent." A small smile appeared over her face, before she squelched it and answered the warchief.

"No objections here, Warcheif. Frostguarde does not like having its people held hostage as if they were dogs, so we would be glad to supply any amount of force to destroy these terrorists. On that note, I brought a squad of men with me and would be eager to volunteer their services for the infiltration team."

The Warchief nodded. "Good. You're more than welcome to join us. I probably should add that I also will be going on this mission. I want blood." He added, with a growl.

The Emperor was about to open his mouth and cover for his spec ops team when Mammoth beat him to it. "Yeah, and we have a team back home that we would be glad to send on the mission. They're not anywhere near here though." Kasper put his elbow on the surface in front of him and put his hand over his eyes. "We *cough* they can probably bring their own amphibious vessel too, if that's what's needed."

"Right. The plan goes ahead, then. 10 special forces from each of us, myself included, will assault the island. The blockade needs to be in place in the next 8 hours- do you think you can manage that?"

Commander Dal-Riada nodded and agreed with Warcheif Deathjaw on the coordinated attack. It would mean that he would have to get the Imperial Special Ops and Fleet ordered to the island from their stations, but it should be no problem. "I have no objections to the plan, sir," saluted Dal-Riada. "I have several ships and a squadron of fine Imperial Guards that are waiting in the nearest military-naval station. The guards are versatile soldiers, and are vigorously trained to adapt their fighting finesse into all situations."

Dal-Riada slammed his fist into the table. "We will have their blood for what they have done to our citizens and citizens of other nations. They will be hunted like dogs until we kill all of them." Dal-Riada gritted his teeth and wondered if the Imperial special ops will do an excellent job. He also wondered if Dregruk was correct in the assumption that the opposition had poor sea detection capabilities. Time will only answer Dal-Riada's thoughts.

"Good. That concludes this meeting. Here are the co ordinates of our meeting point." He tossed some brown envelopes across the table to each of the delegates. "You have 8 hours to have your men brought in, alert your governments or whatever. There's also the co ordinates of a good military staging point in there. Try not to get them mixed up..." He stood up, and strode out the office, his men following.

The 10 Clown Gangers and the Maniacan high authority ran out of the building, got in their transport, and drove to a hotel. The Emperor and Kasper went home while the Clown Gang changed into their battle gear, got back in the transport, and ordered an amphibious vessel. It arrived via cargo jet. They got in the tightly packed amphibious vessel and drove. By now 5 hours had passed. "So anyone know where these coordinates are?" Zephyr asked.
"I don't know, you should have asked," responded Victor.
"I should have asked? How about you, grandpa?"
"I didn't need to know where the coordinates were."
"SHUT UP I'M TRYING TO DRIVE A HUGE VEHICLE!" Fang shouted really loudly. They took off straight towards where the coordinates were.
"How long is this gonna' take?" Zephyr asked.
"A few hours probably. This thing is slow as molasses on land," Fang responded. "We might even be able to go faster if we get out and push."

Torres' Blackhawk, the Thunderball had stayed on station for the duration of the meeting, in the even the four-man team need further transportation.

The team re-boarded the vehicle, and took off for the staging point. They'd need some sort of ground transportation from that point to make a covert nsertion...

"Hey Zephyr," Raptor started, "You're from the 'hood right?"
"Yeah, I guess," responded Zephyr.
"So why don't you talk like it?"
"I stopped before I started working for the government. I thought it would give me a bad rap. No pun intended."
"But you've got a job now. You can start again. It would give our team some flair."
"Yeah, you're right son. I can teach these cracker terrorists somethin' about messin' wid the Northside. Represent."
"Sounds good."
"It's starting to come back to me now."

Ministress Conner strode through the halls of the Dregruk building until she reached outdoors once more. She moved her wristwatch up, close to her mouth, pressed a small button and began to speak.

"Move in to retrieve me, shuttle!"

"Aye, General. We'll have you back in the air in no time," crackled a voice in her earpiece, which is conveniently hidden.

Soon a large shuttle flew overhead and landed in a clearing. A metal ramp lowered and the general climbed in. No sooner had they arrive, they departed.
Conner sat in the captain's chair and decided to give the men their orders.

"Listen up, men. The Dregruk have their hearts set on a response of force and we have been invited to the party," she waited for the men to settle back down. They became excited when they heard they'd be sent into combat. "Silence!" The men were once again quiet. "Now, our orders are to meet at this location," she hands the envelope to the shuttle navigator. "We will then wait there for the other nations and move in on Dregruk's Warchief's command, so we have about eight hours to be there and get situated. Understood?"

"Yes, our lady ministress!" replies the men.

"Excellent. Navigator, move out!"

With the general's command, the shuttle shot into the sky and made it's way towards the rendezvous point.

As night began to fall, the naval vessels tore towards the rendezvous. Their instructions were made absolutely clear; do not shoot at the other nations' crafts. On board the Sfiera, the lead battleship, the Dregruk Elites cleaned out their weapons. If they were nervous, they sure as hell didn't show it.

"Hey, Mick?"
"Aye?"
"Have you got that cleaning fluid with you?"
"Sure, here you go."

One of the others watched the tiny bottle fly into the Elite's hand. "Hey, Mick, how'd you manage to keep that stuff when you were captured 3 months back?" He asked with a twisted grin, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Shoved it up my arse, lad." Came the amused reply, followed by a "Oh jesus!" from the Elite who asked for it.

Silence fell when the Warchief came in. "We're almost there. Get into the landing craft, I'll join you in a minute."

The front treads on the machine dipped into the water.
"99 bottles of beer on the wall..." Varmint began.
"SHUT UP" Was the audible reply from the other nine of them. The propellers in back of the vessel kicked in as the vessel went under.
"Hey we're ridin' now bruthas," Zephyr noted. Raptor, who introduced the idea to Zephyr to the idea, had some advice.
"You know, you can tone it down. I just thought it would be cool if before we opened fire on the suckas you could yell out, 'It's on now muthahuggas!' and that would just be really cool."
"Man, we really need some fresh air."

Three battleships steamed their way towards Dregruk. The HMS Bastion, HMS Bastile, and HMS Batterer, upon Dal-Riada's orders, were heading towards the island at maximum speed. They escorted a small transport ship that carried ten operatives that were ready for battle to kill the terrorist scum that dared to defile the presence of Valerian delegates with savagery. Dal-Riada himself commandeered the giant vessels, armed with six 16" guns each.

"So Stan, you say that Giuseppe Venizelli knocked out some buffoon from some other nation?" questioned one of the Imperial Guards.

"Well, yeah... Vick, you know Venizelli may be kind of brash, but at least he picked his target well. I heard that man was from The Water Cooler. They aren't very capable diplomats, I hear," replied Stan.

Vick Freeman and Stan Voortrekker were the most highly decorated of the squadron, and that was saying a lot considering that all Imperial Guards were extremely decorated elite troops. The landing craft propelled itself ahead of the steaming battleships. The Valerian Imperials would arrive on time to stage the attack, but it was still a couple of hours or so before they reached their destination.

OOC: Sorry folks, my net connection's been fried for the last few days. I've only managed to get on here from a friend's house. It should be back up tomorrow, so fingers crossed.

As the Magnus Valerius fleet moved to their destination a group of stealth submarines slowly followed them.

"So...are you sure this is legal?" Asked a Office of the Watch as he watched the sonar screen idly.

"Well, we are in international waters, so I can't see why not!" His Captain replied “Besides the Admiralty thinks the MG’s are planing something. Ever since their supposed ‘rebel’ attack on our fleet near Eugenica, we have been suspecting something.”

"Hmm, I guess."

"Pass me some Coffee"

"No"

"Hey, can you go any faster?"

"We can if you get out and spin the propellers by hand."

"How will that help us go faster?"

"The ship goes faster through red water."

OOC: Fixified! Sorry for the delay.

IC:

The Dregruk fleet was already in position when the Magnus Valerius fleet arrived. The combined naval groups completely encircled the island, ready to start pummeling it into submission at a moments notice.

First, though, the troops had to make a landing.

"This is Warchief Deathjaw. We are ready to make our landing. Everyone, meet on the marked beach in... 3 minutes. Deathjaw out." The man shoved the radio back onto his belt clip and took his place on the landing craft. For good luck, each of the Elites inside smacked the side of the craft. A technician heard the noise and raised the ramp. The cargo hold of the ship opened up, the craft was moved into the water, where the propellors catapulted it and its cargo towards their destination.

"Finally. There's the island." Let's beach at that point, where the coordinates are," Fang advised. He steered the vessel toward the beach and the treads hit sand, instantly slowing their pace. He had to switch off the propellors to avoid kicking up sand everywhere. They rolled quietly up the beach to the meeting point, rolled out, and straightened up their gear. They were ready to roll.

The landing craft didn't slow down as it approached the beach. Instead, it used the sand as a crash-breaker. The craft piled into the beach, scattering sand across a small area. The ramp dropped and the Elites quickly got out.

First BUMP of the thread....

what's the link to the first thread

While waiting for the other teams to land, Varmint began whistling the theme to "the great escape."

"Duh duh...duhDUHduhdudun. duduh, duh duh, duh dududuh duh."

what's the link to the first thread

OOC: What does that have to do with anything? The first thread finished yonks ago. This is part 2, which doesn't seem to be doing as well as the first did...

The MS team appeared to form from the very underbrush at the edge of the beach... It seemed that they'd found their way on foot...

Dekker Bray, head-man of the mission, moved towards Grimzag's force in a low crouch...

"What's the gameplan? I got two go-to's an' two snipers. Looks like you got an assault team... Where's the rest of 'em?"

Dekker's face was smeared with greasepaint in a seemingly random pattern. The two snipers seemed to be more plant-like than human...

"From what we know and what we can see, the beach is clear. In fact, I'd go as far as to say we can make it all the way up to the base without having any problems. Can your lads do their stuff running?" He asked.

Dekker nods...

"Snipers, no. Jack an' I can, though. Stillwater & Zion'll set up their LOF's over the base... The thing got any hills or mountains near it?"

Zeus cleaned out his gun.

OOC: Good lord! I thought everyone had forgotten about this! I'd best start getting things going again...

IC:

Grimzag nodded, and pointed towards a small cluster of hills to the east of the complex. "That's as good a place as any."

He turned back to everyone that stood on the beach. "I think we've stood around here long enough. Let's get moving. Keep low, and don't shoot unless you have to. I don't want the whole fecking garrison in there knowing we're here.

"Yet."

OOC: By the way Maniaca, you may be interested to know I'm going to be giving all my characters a big overhaul soon. Watch this space.

The Clown Gang put their forearms on the ground and started crawling. That turned out to be a bit too slow, and kind of loud too, so Raptor advised them to stand. They stood up and just bent their backs and knees down and walked hunched over. They followed Grimzag, with their Chaplin automatic pistols hooked up to the ammo pack that ran down the front of all their thighs. It was soundproofed up and down, left and right, so you couldn't hear the bullets rattling inside.

"Chief," Whispered one of the Elites, on Grimzag's right. "I've got an entrance, 30 metres ahead."

"Good work, Drake. Everybody, we're about to go in. I see no sentries, I repeat, no sentries. That doesn't mean there aren't any though."

The Elites kept low and moved closer to the side entrace; a large steel door with an electronic panel at the side.

"Thermals on, if you've got 'em." Whispered Grimzag. Each of the Elites pulled their thermal goggles down over their eyes, locking them into place.

"I've got 2 hostiles behind the door."

"I agree" Whispered each of the men, one after the other.

"Get this door open! Johnstone, McCallum, deal with it." Whispered Grimzag. 2 Elites moved to the panel and began fiddling with it.

The Clown Gang strapped on the thermal goggles, except for Varmint. He had managed to get the strap twisted around a mistakenly exposed dagger on a side pocket. "You doofus," Victor said quietly. Varmint tugged to hard, and the strap got cut in two places by the dagger. "You DOOFUS," Demon seethed.
"Gimme that," said Mammoth, grabbing the pair, and placing his own pair on his forehead. He grabbed Varmint, and placed the goggles over his eyes. He stretched out the strap, and tied the two shortened, cut pieces of strap together, plastering the goggles to Varmint's forehead. "And let that be a lesson to you." Varmint was unhappy.
"I think I'm gonna' have a stroke."

BREEP sounded the little panel next to the door. Johnstone and McCallum held their thumbs' up as a sign that the door was unlocked.

"Blow 'em out." Growled Grimzag, his fingers tingling as they always did when violence was about to take place. A few Elites unclipped various different grenades, pulled the pins, cooked them for a few seconds, then Johnstone smacked the door open button. The door slid open with surprising skill, exposing the two very confused looking guards. Who were quickly joined by several grenades.

The Dregruk team dived out of the way of the door, covering their ears and holding their eyes shut. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Screamed one man, mostly because it was a damn cool thing to say at that moment in time.

The grenades exploded, several of them in midair. "Woah, I got 'im," Raptor said as what once were two terrorists, were now probably two splotches on the wall.

Zephyr said, "They know about us now right? We gotta' go in now?"

Each of the Elites unclipped their SMGs from their backpacks and moved in. Grimzag grinned a sadistic grin and nodded. "We sure as hell can't leave now, can we?" He asked, as he unholstered his trademark triple-barrelled Desert Eagles.

The Elites moved into the facility, each one aiming around the area they were in, giving 360 degrees of firepower, should it come to that. Klaxons were wailing, red lights were flashing and voices were screaming over the intercom.

Grimzag felt right at home.

Dekker & Jack hit the compound from the rear, cracking necks & slitting throats on their way to the generator shed...

Zion & Stillwater, the group's two snipers, cut loose with their .300 WinMag & .338 Lapua Mag respectively, giving the wall sentries a most lethal form of a splitting headache...

Some five minutes & three guards later, Dekker slapped a two-ounce brick of C4 on the fuel tank of the generator, then bolted for cover. A firey mushroom cloud rose up from the building, slinging shrapnel in every direction... Slowly, the base darkened & the Bray twins switched to NVG's...

The Elites crouched low, their weaponry level and awaiting orders. The the power cut out. A quick tap on their thermal goggles changed the view from a dull one with multicoloured blobs to a haunting green one. Warning alarms screamed out in dire warning of an attack that was already in full swing.

Grimzag waved his arm towards a door, and the Elites followed behind him. The door slid open, as all the doors they'd encountered thus far seemed to, and the team moved in.

As they passed through the door, a quick rattle of rifle fire saw every Elite drop to the ground and take aim. A group of 5 or 6 guards had waited for them to move through on a catwalk several metres away. The Elites opened fire, their sub-machine guns ripping into the ambushers. One man was unlucky enough to catch two blasts from Grimzag's Eagles, splattering the wall behind him and the corpses of his comrades with the fleshy mess from his chest.

"Injuries?" Shouted Grimzag, when the gunfire ceased.

"YOU COME AND TASTE THIS ICE TAYOISTS! FIRE IN DA HO!"

Zephyr unholstered his Chaplin and emptied the magazine-sideways of course-while he pulled out a grenade and bounced it off of a wall around a corner, grinning at the fire and smoke that emerged from behind it. Mammoth shot a man in twice in the side of the stomach, and put him out of his misery with a quick dagger toss to the larynx. Chomp leaned up against a wall by a corner and crouched, picking off people as the wheeled around to shoot at the Dregruk elites. Fang was shot twice in the left leg.

"Oh it's on now."

Fang repaid the favor and much more, Shooting from the left leg, all the way across to his right shoulder. Then he hop-hobbled to the back of the pile and leaned against a wall, gun poised in case some squad tried a suicidal charge into the pile and managed to end up all the way in the back before they were cut down. Trident, with his large frame, stayed near the back and shot at people, and just about everybody else was shooting at people. Demon noticed a terrorist try and wing a grenade to the back of the group. Demon shot a few slugs into the shell, blowing his arm, and quite possibly his head, away from the rest of his body. Zeus got shot in the shoulder, and in anger, grabbed the half full magazine from his Chaplin, and threw it at the guy who shot him, before he got his guts blown out. He then unnattached his ammo cord, and whirled it around, smacking a guy in the face with it. He then threw it at some guy, and ran back to where Fang was down. "You hit in the ball-and-socket?"

"Yeah. I might be out for a while."

"Well hey at least your bullet went through."

They were relieved when the gunfire stopped, and when Grimzag asked for a a roll of the wounded, Fang answered, "That would be me and armdead here. When you put us on the stretcher, you might want to make sure his arm stays on, don't want to have a stray arm lying around. That is if we get a stretcher....Sir."

Dekker's M4 popped twice as he dropped another of the terrorist scum-bags...

"SEAL Team Six, bitch... What?"

Dekker muttered as he checked the pulse of the man's body... A total flatline... Good.

Jack didn't carry an assault weapon... His twin AMT Superballers where enough firepower for him, firing a .48 caliber magnum round. A shot tagged a terrorist in the stomach, flinging him backwards... Stillwater made sure it was a kill by following up with a sniper shot to the head...

"No stretchers, no evac... all I can say is I hope you brought some bandages." Concluded Grimzag, walking purposefully towards a computer console. "I hate computers..." He growled when he tapped a few random keys on the keyboard. "Johnstone, turn this thing on, will you?" He shouted. The Elite that had opened the door to the complex jogged over to the terminal in the wall and typed a few keys in. The screen flickered into life, displaying a wavy logo that made Grimzag's eyes narrow.

LaGordCom, Inc.

It may have been a mere coincidence that the same man who'd allowed his chateau to be used for the same party that had been attacked by the same terrorists they were attacking at that moment in time made the software they were using, but it still got a few alarm bells ringing. Not to mention the fact that the trillionaire Giarc LaGord had tried to kill Grimzag on several different occasions...

...but he wasn't here to speculate. He was here to butcher the people who'd attacked his country. And, if it turned out that LaGord had been backing them financially... then he'd catch a few dozen bullets too.

Such was life.

"Johnstone, has this thing got a map of this place on it?"

"Um... yessir, it does. I'll load it up for you." A moment's silence. A frown fell on Johnstone's face. "This can't be right..." He murmured, load enough for the Warchief to hear.

"What can't?"

"According to this... holy mother of God! This complex is far bigger than we could possibly have imagined!"

"What the hell are you on about?"

"Chief, this facility, complex, whatever, is bigger than what we'd taken into account. Sir, this place is about as big as god-damned Ghastopol! It's got over 80 miles in corridors, enough rooms to house a small country... God only knows how we're supposed to find our way around here..."

"Print out a map of how to get to the command centre, control room or whatever it calls it. We came here to blow this place sky-high -that seems like a good enough place to start."

Fang was angry. "You can't be serious! I come here thinking it's going to be a quick gore-fest, only to learn that the compound is giant-after being shot in the FIRST WING!!"

"Bandages?" Zeus asked under his breath. "My arm's practically falling off and you hope I brought bandages?" Nonetheless, he procured a pack of gauze and started wrapping it around his maimed shoulder.

"We'll follow you," Raptor suggested to Grimzag. "Looks like Fang will have to wait here. Zeus can still walk, and can probably still fire a gun, so it's pretty much up to him whether or not he wants to come along, unless you feel as though he'll be a liability. But it's your call. We're just here to pop some heads."

Grimzag walked over the Fang and glared down at him, rearing himself to his full, terrifying height. "Listen, you one-armed faggot, this operation will go ahead as planned whether you like it or not. If you don't, then maybe you'd best let me know now, so I can decide whether or not to bury you or just dump you in the sea. Either way, you've lost your usefulness on this mission, so it looks like you're going to be staying right here." He growled.

"Chief..." Began one of the Elites in protest, hoping to prevent the Maniacans becoming very irate with them before the mission had properly begun.

Grimzag whirled around and pushed him to the floor. "You'll address me when I ask you to, Elite. You'll also remember that, unless you want to join our friend here."

The Elite stood up, looking pretty damn embarrassed. The rest of the Elites looked on in silence.

"Look, this mission has just gotten a little bit more difficult. That's all. We came here with an objective, and we don't really have a choice in the matter. So if anyone has a problem with us getting our arses in gear and moving out, I want to hear it now. We've wasted enough time already."

"I'm sorry sir...requesting permission to back away slowly...sir...and by the way, I'm the one with one le...um...nevermind sir...and I am okay with the mission...sir...I'm gonna go ahead and scoot on out of here then sir...if that's okay with you that is, sir."

"Oh get a hold of yourself," scolded Trident. "Just cover your eyes and crawl backwards. Make sure that thigh doesn't get infected while we're gone. I'm sure one of us will come back. If you get bored, talk to Poparm there, or pop a sleep grenade and let the sandman entertain you." Trident turned towards Chomp, and said quietly, "Now how's that for a colorful witicism?"

The rest of the Maniacans were silent. Mammoth drew a test tube-sized vial of water and downed it in one gulp, afterwards replacing it.

"Let's get moving then," Raptor advised, eyes shifting.

Grimzag opened the door out of the room they were in and walked out. The Elites followed behind sullenly, feeling oddly embarrassed over their leader's actions. None of them considered apologising to the Maniacans; that would get them yelled at by the Chief, and it wasn't really their problem, was it?

At the lead of the troop, Grimzag pulled out his radio and tried to contact the snipers on the outside. He'd almost forgotten about them. "Dekker, Stillwater, we're in the base. You can come in now. Grimzag out."

The big man turned to the men behind and and asked, "How far did the computer say the command room was?"

"At my best guess... at least an hour's walk from here. If we make good time that is."

Every man there knew what "good time" meant; not running into an army of soldiers halfway along.

Mammoth turned to Zephyr and said very quietly, "I don't think Fang can stay out of trouble for that long." Zephyr smiled.

Back at the entrance, Zeus was hanging out with Fang. "Man, where are those guys with their ships?"

"They must be way out there. Just inside firing range. Or maybe they're waiting to get inside range when Grimzag gives them the call."

Grimzag and his team moved along at a reasonably fast pace, following the route the map had outlined. Every now and then, a member of the team would frown and look around the area, seeming to be looking for something. But all that was around them was grey walls, with the odd metal door on them. It was an eerily long corridor- nothing more, nothing less.

"Chief, did you hear that?" Asked one of the Elites, after he flinched and raised his SMG.

"No, I didn't. What are you guys so jittery about? There's nothing here."

"I could've sworn..." Muttered the Elite to himself.

A few moments passed in silence, when an Elite suddenly cried, "There!". Every member of the team, the Chief included, heard the sound. It was an odd, scuttling sound, not unlike that which a crab makes on a stone.

"What the hell is that?" Murmured one of the Elites.

"I dunno. Probably a generator or something. C'mon, we need to keep moving." Grumbled the Chief, resuming his meaningful stride.

Raptor's eye started twitching. He thought "no way is that a generator." Then, of course, he realized no way was he going to second guess Grimzag unless he wanted left alone with whatever squadron was following them, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Chomp hooked up his ammo tube. Mammoth kept looking at his watch that wasn't there.

Back at the entrance, Fang was joking around with Zeus. "Wouldn't it be funny if all of them were scared out of their minds right now."

The noise was becoming more and more frequent, reaching the point where almost Grimzag couldn't ignore it or explain it away as a generator. "Everyone, get your weapons ready. Set up a defensive area, don't be further than 2 feet from another squad member."

"Yes Chief." Was rattled off by each of the Elites, as they checked magazines were fully loaded, and safeties were off.

OK, we're standing still. Come and say hello..., thought Grimzag, his cannon-like pistols gripped tightly in his hands.

The noise grew louder still.

Raptor clutched the grip of his Chaplin, with a frag grenade punctured and the poker in his teeth. On one knee, he was ready at half a moments notice to unleash a flurry of lead and a spray of shrapnel. Almost all of the Clown Gangers pushed in the ear stoppers on their helmets. The noise, though not loud, not high pitched, was increasing, and reeked of danger, enough to drive a man insane considering the situation they were in. "Man, where is it coming from?" said Demon under his breath. Eyes were wide open, and nerves were racked beyond recognition.

"Oh my God, just start shooting already!" said Trident to the noise.

The highly trained Elites were also beginning to show their nerves. A few would click the safety switch at least 3 times every minute, another kept chewing on his lip, contorting his face like some ghoulish abomination. Given the situation, it seemed less than apt. Even Grimzag was starting to appear anxious- that is, if you knew what to look for. A tiny vein pulsated on his forehead, the usual sign that he wasn't too happy about something.

The noise got louder, like whatever was making it was coming closer to them.

A few of the Elites had the temptation to scream out, "COME AND GET IT!", but they resisted the urge as they had been trained to.

Not that they really needed to, since "they" made an appearance a few seconds later.

One Elite was unfortunate enough to be standing right next to where the "things" started pouring out of the ceiling. Blood splattered, he screamed, the every man looked on in stunned horror. Before they opened fire on the crab-like things.

Chomp was in the back, so he had the most time to react. "Oooh, My, God." He opened fire on the crabs, Sending the number that was hit flipping up and backwards. The advanced though. One managed to grab onto Demon's chin, another gripped his leg.

"AHH GET OFF ME YOU FREAKS!" He proceeded to shoot the crab off of his chin, bloodying it severely. He ran away from the group of crabs, held on to the crab that grabbed his leg, and shot it's body through the middle. Crabs began to advance on him. He pulled a grenade, poked it, dropped it, and ran back towards the rest of the group, firing back at the crabs, while dozens of others tried to take out his legs....

The Elites' training only extended as far as shooting humans, so they all yelled insults and held their fingers firmly down on the trigger, spraying lead cased death to a wide arc of crab-freaks.

Grimzag looked down in horror when his pistols clicked empty, costing him precious seconds of firing time to slap fresh mags in. The whole team was in shock over the sheer volume of the beasts, not to mention how vicious they seemed to be.

"KEEP FIRING, IDIOTS! WASTE 'EM!!"

Dekker & Jack followed behind the other teams, keeping a low profile. Stillwater & Zion waited outside the entrance, keeping tabs on any reinforcements that might arrive...

The elder Bray twin did a double take as he watched some sort of crab-critter inching its way along the ceiling...

'Odd... We're pretty far inland...'

The thing dropped, Dekker narrowly avoiding it with a sidestep. It snapped at his boot-strings, severing one of them neatly...

"Angry little fucker, aren't ya?"

He muttered as he planted the same size twelve the crab had been attacking atop its head with a wet crunch. His gloating over his minor victory was disturbed by someone tapping hurridly on his shoulder...

"Yo, Dek... We got a problem... BIG problem..."

Dozens of the crab's relations had exited the ceiling behind the two mercenaries, and where rapidly advancing...

"Oh shit..."

Dekker's last word was cut off by the crack of Jack's .48 magnum & the bark of his own M4...