NationStates Jolt Archive

It was a cold night. Mark Scott, though a rather strong man, felt as if he was going to freeze. Maybe because all he was wearing, was a thin black shirt and regular jeans, and outside the temperature was about 5 degrees Celsius.
I didn't think this place can get that cold, he thought to himself while he kept walking quickly, with heavy steps, to a small 24/7 open coffee shop in the corner of the street.

When he entered the coffee shop, almost everyone in it, about 6 people, could hear his sigh as he felt the warmth inside. He stood there for a few seconds, and then walked forward to a large white door with the sign 'employees only', knocked 4 times, and waited.

"Who is this?"

"It's Scott"

"Scott? Which Scott?"

"The Head's son Scott.

"Damn! So soon? Come inside… Please."

Mark entered a very small room, definitely not the employee room, and a short guy wearing a military jacket lead him to another door. Mark looked at the man and all around with a suspicious gaze, hoping he's in the right place.
This must be it, he assured himself, Assuming I'm not gonna get shot in a minute.

As soon as Mark opened the second door, before even noticing the three armed men standing in the room, he heard a familiar voice from the side of it… "Welcome, Mr. Scott!" He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Jack?! What the fuck are you doing here?! Are you a part of this?"

"Of course. And you are as well, because of your father."

"Please don't talk about my father. I had enough listening to his bullshit over the years… And I haven't seen him for many."

"I know, I know. That is what I want to fix."

"He is here?"

"No, Mark, unfortunately he is dead. Some special intelligence scum found out where he was hiding. It was horrible, Mark… I still remember the sight."

"Well the world didn't lose much."

"Are you crazy? Tomas William Scott will be remembered for years to come in our community!" Jack was almost shouting when he said that.

"Yeah. And in many communities that were destroyed by his activities!"

"This was for a good…" He was interrupted by Mark's shout - "A good what?!"

After a few seconds of silence, Jack spoke again, this time calmly. He looked around and tried to make mark think the same way.

"A good – Cause, Mark. A good cause. They were not innocent. None of them."

Mark did not answer to that. Instead, they turned to more important issues, and after about and hour, to the most important issue.

"Mark. I need you for this. You are the only one of your family that can do this, and isn't dead. If you don't want to do this for the cause, do it for the memory of a great man, your father. Or even for your mother."

"What do you need me for?"

"I need you to sign one of the greatest weapon deals ever signed by an unofficial military force."

At this point, Mark scratched his chin, took a deep breath, and turned to Jack.
I will regret this. "Tell me more."

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Background

In the early years of its existence, the DSRO was a known atheist-underground and resistance organization. It bombed several targets in different nations, including Ness Ziona, The Opressive Church, Euroslavia, Belem and Soviet Trasa, and was responsible for the deaths of thousands believed by its leaders to be corrupt by religion.
Since its time of "glory", it slowly faded, and lately it was another forgotten name.
After its most wanted leader, Tomas William Scott, was assassinated by an unknown covert-ops force, it was officially considered dead by most people.

Now, when even the nation of Ness Ziona, its greatest enemy, doesn't exist as a nation anymore, its top leaders cannot afford it to disappear from the world. That is why they secretly attempt to rebuild the organization, under a new title – The Atheist Front.

Before this new group can operate, it needs equipment.
Most of the DSRO's equipment that wasn't confiscated by outside forces, remained secured in the warehouses of a company established by Tomas Scott himself. But in order to receive the equipment back, the company managers demand the authorization of Scott or any other person of his family.
Tomas Scott is currently dead. A fact which puts Mark Scott, his son, in the picture.

------------------------------

Jack took a while to explain the case for Mark, but when he finished, he saw the light in the end of the tunnel – a grin on Mark's face.

"…So, Mark… My old friend… Will you do it?"

Mark firstly nodded for a few moments, and made it look as if he was considering the issue, but he already decided about his answer when he was told that there is no danger for him in the process.

"Yes, I'll help you."


OOC: I don't know if anyone here remembers me, but I'm trying to start all over with my 'underground-organization' thingie which I started as The Secular Resistance/DSRO.
The nation page for the DSRO still exists, but I'll be posting as this 'nation'.
Currently, I have no 'base of operations'. So if any of you would like to donate a small bit of its nation (can be supportive and can be against the cause) for RPs (or just as a place to ship all the weapons to).
Also, I'm looking for equipment to buy (mainly rifles, explosives, cheep armored vehicles and such. you know, black market Stuff).

I'm trying to build the organization from almost scratch, and I need support, so please be kind. =)

ooc: If you went and tried to contact the Theao BM, you could probably get your hands on weapons ect. If you have MSN, vc_64@yahoo.ca

OOC: I'd definitely be interested in doing some RPs with you as an "against nation". There's plenty of stuff going on with my nation that might be fertile ground for bombings, assassinations, kidnappings, etc.

My MSN is onlykyle@gmail.com, if anybody's interested...

OOC: Taking some creative licence here. Okay, a lot maybe. >_>

Rotterdam Harbour, Knootoss

It was night, but the harbour of Rotterdam was lit up like a Christmas tree, Business went on for 24 hours a day, and advanced cranes were busily loading and unloading containers in a gigantic maze of straightened rivers and canals and fields of containers and lorries that stretched from the city of Rotterdam all the way to the coast – endless square kilometres of industrial enterprise, inbetween the bustling business city and the smelly chemical industries at the northern shore of the mayor “mouth” of the river.

Outside, it was cold and windy. Light rain swept intermittently across the vast concrete slaps aside the canals, and the air smelt salty as the North Sea made its presence felt. There was no greenery; poisonous fumes had since long killed whatever plant life had tried to spring up in-between the concrete slaps and the water. Despite all the economic activity in the harbour, there were very few people about. Most of the work was automated, and those actually on the ground were mostly inside small offices, monitoring computers or just passing the time.

And so, the extended “Maasvlakte” was an ideal meeting place for anyone who did not want to be seen, for whatever reason. And on one particular night, a group of four men walked towards one of the long green warehouses standing about 700 metres from the water. The group was indistinct in the dark, but one of them appeared to be significantly taller than the others.

“The DSRO has not attacked for a long, long time”, a raw voice whispered in the dark. “The leadership is dead and its operational equipment taken. You must understand, these warehouses carry things of great value to us now.”

“Thousands of ex-DSRO members and their families are still here, as Knootian citizens. Their help would be an asset to the new Atheist Front. And with their new contacts, other Knootians could be recruited as well. With tensions as they are, I can even imagine a renewed interest by the AIVD in…”

The tall figure raised his hand to stop the other man from speaking, his own voice remarkably warm and authorative.

“Times have changed, friend. It is one thing to expect those people to look the other way, and forget about past arrangements, it is quite another thing to expect a Knootian government to support a militant campaign in the current political climate."

“But surely, in the Excalbian Isles…”, the raw voice protested.

“… there are other powers at work there, powers beyond my control. The AIVD and the Knootian secular movement are not involved, and they will not be.” He sighed. “Your violent nature would be a liability rather then an asset, Frank. Governments change, and this one…”, the tallest one did not finish his train of thoughts as the group arrived at a high fence. A computer access terminal lit up as they approached the gate, revealing the face of a high elf and a hand reaching for the access point. After inserting a password, the tall elf spat on the concrete slap, his handsome face dark and ugly.

“For tens of thousands of years, the tribes of man have fought amongst each other in the name of their religion. It is a poison that corrupts and enslaves their minds. Removing that poison will save lives. But a campaign of terror will only harden the hearts of the misguided. And the powers that be here are far too clean to use the darker means at their disposal.”

The gate opened, and there was grim silence as the men walked over to the entrance of the warehouse which was opened in a similar fashion. Lights sprang on, and the short man who had just now been arguing gasped in pleasant surprise. The entire warehouse was filled with crates marked as military-grade equipment.

“This is but thirty-one percent of the stock that the government received from DSRO members demobilising in Knootoss. It is mostly small arms,” he said with a shrug. “but it has some primitive anti-air and anti-tank weaponry as well as the light mobile artillery pieces we managed to evacuate.”

“Can we ship this out?”, a third man with a foreign accent asked quietly.

“It will be hard”; the elf said stoically. “Getting the weapons out will be easy, with port authorities busy as they are.” He paused. “The three warehouses here are forgotten, they don’t even bother to guard them anymore. But some day, someone might find out. And then we need an explanation for the fact that these things are missing…”

bump?

OOC: Is this an open RP? If so, I'd be very interested in joining, specifically if able to RP as Gruenberger atheists working against their own governments.

OOC: I'm still interested but I don't have MSN and getting any messenger or anything else requiring a continuous link is beyond tricky with my current ungodly crappy wireless server.