NationStates Jolt Archive

“And when he had opened the second seal, I heard the second beast say, Come and see. And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.” -Revelation 6:3-4 (King James Bible)




St. Alexander City – Rathanan

Victory!

The Rathani and Bordorian militaries emerged victorious over the Commonwealth of Chimaea in what is now being called “the Second Baron War.” Today the honorable soldiers who fought in this war marched in a victory parade in St. Alexander City. Observing the parade today was Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan himself, who, at the end of the parade, awarded medals to soldiers personally. Today is certainly a great day for the Holy Empir-

The Television switched off suddenly. Watching the Television was Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan who, at last, had free time to watch the Holy Imperial News Network. The Emperor sighed slightly and looked out the window, it was getting late now but sleep was one of the last things on his mind, for he knew that, despite the end of the shooting war, he still had a long fight ahead of him.

“I suppose,” He muttered, “that if I’m not going to sleep, I should try and get things done.” The Holy Emperor picked up the phone and idly typed in a number. The phone on the other end was picked up and the Emperor was greeted by a lengthy yawn.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end said in a drowsy tone.

“Ah, yes, hello Mathias, I’m sorry to wake you, but I really need that update on the Inquisition’s part in Operation Tape.” The Holy Emperor said in somewhat of a mocking tone.

“With all due respect, Holy Emperor, I said I’d have it on your desk first thing in the morning.” The voice (the head of the Inquisition, Mathias Olivegrove) groaned.

“Well, according to my clock, High Inquisitor, it’s 1:00 AM in the morning, which, technically, is first thing in the morning.” The Emperor snapped. “Now I want you here asap to deliver it personally, this is highly classified information, so I don’t even want to risk a fax.” The Holy Emperor added.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Mathias groaned again.


15 minutes later

High Inquisitor Mathias Olivegrove walked into the Holy Imperial Palace Throne Room with a briefcase in hand.

“I’m getting too old for this job.” He muttered under his breath as he opened the briefcase and took out a manila folder. “Here you go, now may I please get some sleep?” He half begged as he handed the Holy Emperor the folder.

“I suppose, infact, you can come into work two hours late.” The Holy Emperor said, examining the folder’s contents. “Have you found agents suitable for the job yet?” He asked in a hushed tone.

“Yes, I believe so. I was going to type out the official orders for them and get your signature on them today.” The High Inquisitor responded, yawning warily.

“Good, have a good sleep, Mathias.” The Holy Emperor said.

Mathis nodded a bit and headed towards the door, yawning and grumbling as he went.


The next day at the Grand House of Baron

Ambassador Victor Rochstein sat himself down in the chair designated for the Ambassador of Rathanan. Rochstein was usually the Ambassador to Bordoria, but the current Ambassador to the Grand House of Baron, Constantine Haupsburg, was on rather extensive leave attending to his son who lost a leg in the Battle of St. Cypher City. Naturally, as the second most qualified Ambassador in Rathanan, he was given the task of substituting for Mr. Haupsburg. Victor was a tall, slim, and imposing man. He had rather tan skin with raven black hair that he liked to keep slicked back and in perfect order at all times. The biggest, and probably most intimidating, feature about him, however, was his heart piercing, soulless, deep brown eyes. As he sat in his seat, his eyes fell on the Chimaean ambassador, who was preparing paper work. As the rest of the Ambassadors filed onto the floor, Rochstein made his move.

“The Ambassador from Rathanan is recognized.” The President said.

“Thank you, Mr. President.” The Substitute Ambassador began. “My first order of business is simple, I would like it to be made clear that the usual Ambassador, Mr. Haupsburg, will be on extensive leave attending to his son, who was injured in service to his country.” The Ambassador said as he gave an icy glare at the Chimaean Ambassador. “I will be filling his position until he can return.” He added. “Now, on to the main thing I wished to talk about.” The Ambassador said, thumbing his touch screen, causing a news article to come up on the large television screen. “The Commonwealth of Chimaea has recently invaded the Holy Empire, as I’m sure you’re all aware.” The Ambassador said, a thin smile coming across his face. “At first, they claimed that it was due to the ‘oppressiveness’ of our Holy Emperor, yet, as you can see here, according to a Chimaean news agency, they’re passing oppressive legislation on their own people!” The Ambassador began with such venom in his voice that the other Ambassadors stared at him with wide eyes. “Then they claimed to be at war with us due to our nuclear arms, which, now, I think it’s obvious that they’re probably seeking the same strength.” He added. “While this is pure speculation on my part, please take note of this…” The Ambassador said thumbing his touch screen again. “As you can see from these pictures and other news articles, Chimaea is beginning a massive build up of military arms, infact, they’re beginning trade treaties with other nations outside of Baron to receive arms from them!” The Ambassador said, venom almost dripping out of his teeth in his icy tone. “Take heart, however, fellow Baron nations, as The Holy Empire of Rathanan and The Most Serene United Kingdom of Bordoria shall not sit idly by as Chimaea begins an era of new Imperialism. He said, lightening his tone a bit. “If Chimaea means to have another war, Rathanan is not afraid to meet them in battle, not now, not ever.” The Ambassador hissed slightly. “Thank you, and I yield the balance of my time to the chair.” He concluded.

((For more information on what I was discussing, go here: http://forums2.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=9929621))


The Holy Imperial Palace – war room

Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan and his ranking military officials sat at the large meeting table within the Holy Imperial War Room. It was a large, very solid place located roughly 50 feet below the Holy Imperial Place.

“So, what you’re telling me is, Operation Tape is going quite smoothly… Same news as last time, is there anything else I should know about?” The Holy Emperor asked in a bored tone.

“Well, Holy Emperor, I’d also like to make it known that our counterparts in the Navy and us have come up with a good way to hide these nukes.” A General piped up.

“Oh? Well let’s hear it, General, I haven’t got all day.” The Holy Emperor said, rubbing his temples.

“Rivers.” The General said.

“What about the rivers?” The Holy Emperor asked suspiciously.

“We want your permission to find a way to block water off in areas in rivers wide enough to make silos temporarily.” The General said pulling out a folder. “From there, we can make large amounts of silos and still manage to hide them from Chimaean satellites.” The General said.

“Yes, but I’d hate to be the fool fishing if we ever have to launch.” The Emperor said, reading through the papers in the folder.

“With all due respect, Holy Emperor, I doubt anyone would be out fishing if it escellated that far.” The General said.

“We would also like to ask for increased funding for the navy, Holy Emperor, so we can build more Nuclear Submarines to house more nuclear arms.” An Admiral interrupted.

“Fine, fine, to the submarine part, but this river idea, I’m going to have to investigate that. But until then, you’re all dimissed.” The Holy Emperor said, shooting looks at all of the officials.

“Yes, Holy Emperor.” They all said as they got up and left.


“Rivers.” The Holy Emperor said snickering slightly. “It might be a better idea than I first thought.” He added, rubbing his chin. “In either case, onto reviewing the reconstruction of St. Cypher City…..

Baron Island, Chimaean Diplomatic Quarters

Sir Irving entered the Ambassadorial Suite and turned the lights to dim. The soft golden glow washed over the oppulent features as he losened his tie, poured himself a generous amount of brandy at the bar and strolled over to the large french windows dominating one side of the suite.

Beyond the balcony he could see other smaller buildings around the Diplomatic Quarters and then the deserted beach, lit an eerie silver by the moonlight. The sky was cloudless, stars burning high above. He wondered which were stars and which were satellites, peering down from the heavens.

The meeting had gone as well as it could have. He doubted that the Haupsburg would defect--the available profiles had shown him to be a fairly fundamentalist patriot. Educated and intelligent, though, which meant he'd engaged his interest at least. HUMINT had reported on a son in the military, which was bad news.

Sir Irving studied his reflection in the glass and sipped his drink. The amber liquid bit against his tongue and scorched his throat and he closed his eyes and sighed, letting the heat of the alcohol out of his mouth. Then, without opening his eyes, he smiled and said, "Hello Milana."

There was an annoyed hiss behind him and one of the shadows near the cluster of low-set couches moved into the light. There was the expensive swish of silk and warm breath in his ear for a moment before a soft voice said, "How do you always know I'm there?"

Sir Irving opened his eyes. "The day I don't know you're there is the day they put me into the Earth. How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you. You haven't changed much at all... still as hot and handsome as ever."

"You need to get out more." Sir Irving finished off the brandy and turned. Standing before him was a strikingly beautiful woman wearing a blood-red dress and a large automatic pistol strapped incongruously to her thigh. She wore designer sunglasses, even in the gloom, and her lips were painted the same colour as the dress, contrasting sharply against her pale skin and midnight-black hair. The corners of her lips twitched up in a way which might have made other men go weak at the knees, but Sir Irving was unimpressed. "So in what capacity are you here now? My minder from above?"

"Why, do you need a minder?"

Sir Irving rolled his eyes. "If you're going to stand there being cryptic and spouting innuendo, I'd rather you leave. I have sleep to catch up on."

Milana sighed. "You've grown immune to my charms."

"I'm old, Milana. You haven't aged a day but I'm old now. Why are you here?"

The woman folded her arms across her stomach in a curiously protective gesture. "I'm in charge of all intelligence operations against Rathanan."

"Who did you have to sleep with to get that?"

Milana looked hurt and perched on the arm of a couch. "I didn't sleep with anybody. Usually a smile is enough..." she smirked. "I've been doing a lot for the Governor and she trusts me."

Sir Irving gave her a horrified look. "You didn't seduce the Governor did you...?"

Milana looked away angrily. As she did so, her ear poked through her hair--an ear which had been elegantly pointed at the top, but mutilated; the top peak was badly cut through, healing in a slightly tattered shape. Milana could have gotten her ears fixed but chose to wear the mutiliation almost as a badge; she was an Elf that had been working for Chimaean military intelligence and caught by Reich agents who had tortured her for information. The experience had changed her in ways even Sir Irving couldn't guess at.

"Who's making innuendo now?" she demanded irritatedly. "If we're to work together you're going to have to put the past behind you, Irving."

Sir Irving placed the empty tumbler on the bar's granite benchtop, then half turned to regard her. "I'm sorry. Congratulations on the promotion."

"Thank you." she replied coldly. "I'll be providing you intelligence personally, Ambassador. There's a few things you need to know about what's going to happen in the near future..."

Impulsively, Sir Irving walked to her and put his arms around her from behind, holding her close. Milana rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes momentarily. "I'm sorry, Milana, it's just that--"

"I know. It's ok. It was a long time ago... for both of us."

The moment was over. Sir Irving stepped away and sat down, facing her, and motioned her to continue. Milana sighed. "This situation will become worse before it becomes better. But... there are ways to make this turn our way..."

Sir Irving listened with fascination, then growing horror as Milana explained the future they were about to craft. After she had finished there was a long silence as they sat in a frozen tableu. Then Sir Irving smiled a little. "That's either the most devious or the most fucked up plan I've ever heard."

Milana nodded. "And you'll be in the front line, so to speak. One of the spiders in the middle of the web. What you say in the House will mould events for millions."

Sir Irving got to his feet wearily and crossed over to the French windows again. "Where did Chimaea lose the plot?"

Milana stood as well. "The day that bullet entered Lord Bryce's head. Nothing was ever the same again."

Sir Irving shook his head. "But this? It's just power games! Colombia! Nuclear weapons!" he turned around disgustedly. "Where does it end, Milana? Where does it end?"

But the Elf was gone.

***

Grand House of Baron, the next day

Sir Irving studied the man talking before him with guarded eyes. The briefing hadn't filled him in much on this Victor Rochstein, formerly the Rathani Ambassador to Bordoria. Not an easy piece of work by any means--and those empty eyes...

Sir Irving made a mental note to ask Milana about the man, then stood to be recognised by the President of the House.

"Thank you, Mr. President.

"In response to my esteemed counterpart's criticism of our laws, we must point out that this legislation was put introduced into Parliament for the purposes of strengthening out security against nations like Rathanan and Bordoria, who pose a credible and present threat against the Commonwealth and have always done so, with or without our mission to increase regional stability.

"The laws are hardly oppressive. Our anti-terror measures only come into effect in the event of an emergency and our proposed laws against violence and sedition aimed to violence or action against the state only effect those organisations or persons who aim to incite or use violence against the Commonwealth. Besides, these laws will be voted upon by the Senate and the House of Representatives--democracy, fellow nations, the keystone to freedom."

Sir Irving keyed his touch screen for a moment. "As for some sort of military build-up, we haven't exactly made it a secret that our troop numbers will increase as will, correspondingly, our budget. However, the Commonwealth denies reports of increased military trade deals with other nations. We also deny that we are orchestrating another war--however, in turn, we will state most firmly that we will be ready for any hostilities launched by Rathanan, Bordoria or any other nation. We do not want war but neither do we fear it."

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

[OOC: while rumours of the military development alliance would have leaked, there'd be nothing concrete--the invitations were sent to allies or interested parties chosen by Chimaea]

The Rathani Diplomatic Office - Two Hours before floor scessions began

Victor walked into the office that was normally used by Ambassador Haupsburg. Before he did so, he noticed that Mr. Haupsburg's secretary was staring at him in a funny way. Before she knew what happened, however, Victor slammed a piece of paper onto her desk, and, with a slight glare, mumbled something and walked into the office. The secretary turned the paper over - it was a Resume..... of sorts....

Victor Dentalis Rochstein

Education:

Bachelor's Degree in International Affairs - University of the Holy Inquisition - Validictorian of the class of 1994

Masters Degree in Diplomacy - University of St. John the Baptist - Graduated Magna Cumlauti.

Work experience:

One year service in the Paladins

Capitan in the Holy Imperial Inquisition Spy Network

Ambassador to The Most Serene United Kingdom of Bordoria

Contacts:

Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan

High Inquisitor Mathias Olivegrove

Minister of Diplomacy Andreas Calvictis

City Executives of St. Andrew City, St. Peter City, St. Androphine City, and St. Paul City.


The Secretary read over the sheet in sheer amazement when she noticed a message scratched in with red pen.

I'm more than qualified, look at me with disrespect again, and you'll beg for death before I'm done with you. The Secretary read as she turned around and noticed Ambassador Rochstein staring directly at her through the window in his office.

Rochstein mused at the horrified look on the secretary's face. It was his administrative style to make all his underlings, and some of his bosses, fear and loath him like the plague. As he sat in the desk, he rummaged through the desk and pulled out some documents and looked them over.

"My, my, my, Sir Irving, I see I'm going to have a bit of a fight to get what I want out of you... Peter and Christof's report may be rather detailed, but I need to find things out by my self here." He said looking over what appeared to be an Inquisition report on Sir Irving. Victor threw the report back into the desk and locked it. "This should be an amusing game for my part... It's about time I can deal with the enemy rather than having to be tactful with the ally.." He added as picked up his briefcase and headed towards the door.

Two Hours later- After Sir Irving's Speech

Unimpressed and undeterred, Victor Rochstein rose from his seat slowly. His eyes narrowed at Sir Irving, a gaze that could make normal children soil themselves.

"The Ambassador from Rathanan is recognized." The president said warily.

"Thank you, Mr. President." The Ambassador said. "I appriciate the, at best, evasive response from Chimaea." The Ambassador began. "But I want to speak on something else here." He added. "Please take note that the actual TALKS are still needed, and that, POWs on either side still need to be released." The Ambassador added. "We, at Rathanan, are setting an official date, December 2nd, to have a POW trade off." The Ambassador added. "Failure to respond to this FINAL deadline, will result in VERY harsh penalties for your captured soldiers.... The Holy Empire shall not negotiate with Chimaea on this issue at all. Release our POWs by December 2nd.. Every last one... Or your soldiers shall never see their homeland again." The Ambassador said with no hint of any regard for the lives of the Chimaeans. "Now, as for the METHOD of trade off, we are certainly willing to negotiate... But know this, don't think you can even attempt to push us off the deep end.... ANY hint of funny business and your POWs will be the ones to suffer." The Ambassador hissed, his gaze falling appon his Chimaean counterpart once more. "Thank you and I yield the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

((I'm really just trying to introduce you to Rochstein with this post... See what I told you? You haven't seen jack yet... And about the weapons trade, that's part of Rochstein's plot... He goes on rumors that may sound plauseable, ESPECALLY on things where Chimaea would be hesitant to allow an investigation.... Let's just say he has a VERY good poker face...))


The Holy Imperial Place - Throne Room

High Inquisitior Mathias Olivegrove walked into the throne room with two Inquisition spies at either end of them. Both the Inquisition spies had two major details about them that they shared - they were both some of the few Hispanics in the Holy Empire and they were both fluent in Spanish.

"Holy Emperor, may I introduce you to Sargent Andrew Benodicia and Capitan Robert Chavez, the two agents I have hand selected for part two of Operation Tape." The High Inquisitor said, gesturing to the two men.

"Ah, very good, I'm going to trust your judgement on your selections." The Holy Emperor said shaking all of their hands. "Let me see the original orders so that I may sign off on them." The Emperor added.

"Of course." The High Inquisitor said taking out a manila folder. "Here you go." He said handing the folder to the Holy Emperor

"I want these two on a commercial plane heading to Chimaean Columbia within the week..." The Holy Emperor said, signing the sheet. "However, one concern I have is, what if they trace the original depature?" he asked.

"I've already arranged that, Holy Emperor." The High Inquisitor said. "They're going to fly to the Federal Republic of Ashlavar" (http://www.nationstates.net/ashlavar) He said. "They have fake Ashlan passports that are as authentic looking as you can get them." He added. "They can just fly to Ashlavar on a one way ticket, and then start a new flight chain there." He mentioned. "Ashlavar hardly deals with any nation outside of trade." He remarked. Infact, our files don't show Ashlavar and Chimaea EVER dealing with each other." He continued. "So I see no reason for Chimaea to have travel advisories on Ashlavar or hostile feelings towards the Ashlan government." He added.

"Just make sure these two have time and space to do their jobs." The Holy Emperor remarked. "You're all dimissed."

Bryce Manor, Bella Esmeralda, Chimaea

"Daddy! Daddy, wait!"

The little girl raced up the winding, paved path, passing the ornamental stone statues, cherubs, columns and fountains at a blur as she headed towards the distant figure about to get into the squat black shape of the car. She was dressed in a heavy coat and warm shoes against the cold.

The distant figure turned at the sound of the excited shout and waited for her to catch up. The man was tall and dignified, wearing a immaculately tailored suit. His lined face was bordered by dark greying hair swept back from his forehead and a neatly trimmed goatee, greying at the corners. His face, set in a worried frown, lightened at the sight of the little girl and when she reached him, he scooped her up in his arms and studied her beaming face affectionately.

"What is it, tiger?"

The little girl frowned. "You were going to leave me without saying bye!"

"I'm sorry sweetie--I'm not going to be long. I'll be back tonight and have dinner with you... And we'll watch The Lion King, how's that?"

The child brightened up. "Promise?"

"Shake on it."

The two of them solemnly shook pointer fingers. Then he put her down and kissed her forehead gently. "Run on back, now, you'll catch cold. Be a good girl!"

"Bye, Daddy!" and with that the girl scampered off back to the mansion. When she looked back over her shoulder, the car was already moving down the path, away from her.

***

Lady Bryce snapped open her eyes and gasped for breath. The satin bedclothes were soaked in sweat and twisted around her; her hair was a wet mess around the pillow. She breathed deeply for a while, closing her eyes tightly before her body relaxed.

Another dream. Another broken promise.

The bedside clock blinked 4:00 AM at her in a baleful red. Another night with broken sleep--and the same dream. She closed her eyes again and remembered the smell of her father's colonge, the rough tickle of his beard on her soft child's skin. The reassuring warmth of his hug.

The way his body lay in the coffin, unmoving, his hands across his chest.

Feeling dazed, she showered briefly in the en suite bathroom, then put on a silk nightdress and made her way through the winding corridors, sprawling halls and gilted staterooms to her study. Bryce Manor was ancient and enormous, a behemoth of a mansion build amidst the permanently Winter landscape of Bella Esmeralda. The Manor was in an almost constant state of renovation since her father, Lord Bryce, had started to renovate and modernise it during his first term as Governor. Some of the parts were dangerous to go to--and the cellars were mostly still shut off. Underneath the cellars was the deeper cave system, rumoured to have been there before even the Manor.

One of the paintings in the study was of her father. It was an actual painting as opposed to a photograph, done on canvas, capturing her father's familiar determined look, the firm set of his jaw and those fierce eyes gazing right through you.

She leaned on the edge of her desk and poured herself a glass of wine. "Here's to you, Dad." she said quietly, sipping at it.

Had he sat there, like her, listening to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner as he signed away the lives of friend and foe alike? It had got to him in the end. What had he been thinking as he squeezed the trigger?

Oh Dad, why have you foresaken me?

"Hello Tanya."

Her skin prickled and she tensed, ages-old training kicking in without hesitation. But she was the Governor, not a Marine. She wasn't armed, wasn't ready for attack--but if someone had infiltrated security, she'd already be dead. Acutely aware that the only thing between her and a physical attack was a thin and rather revealing nightdress, she turned slowly and carefully, her eyes studying the shadows. Ah, there. A shadow which wasn't a shadow, noticeable only to the trained eye. Not an assassin, which meant--

"Hello Milana."

The shadow moved. By the dim light of the table lamp, the Elf emerged from the shadows, her lips quirked up in a smile. She walked up to Lady Bryce until she was mere centimeters away from her, leaned her head in until their noses almost touched and whispered dramatically, "Sir Irving has fantasies about us."

Lady Bryce leaned her head until her mouth was next to the Elf's ear and replied firmly and with feeling, "Go fuck yourself."

Milana laughed and stepped out of the Governor's personal space. Annoyed despite herself, Lady Bryce walked around the desk and sat down in the large leather armchair. The other woman had seen her moment of angst as she stared at her father's painting--something which could definitely be used against her if she knew the correct leavers. But despite their mutual dislike, the Elf respected Lady Bryce and was, in her own twisted way, fiercely loyal.

She studied the woman in charge of the entire intelligence operations against Rathanan. Long, straight black hair, pale skin, red dress, handgun strapped to her thigh. The mutilated Elven ears poking through her hair like a grotesque trademark. Lady Bryce had never liked Elves much--she had very few prejudices but this was one of them, stemming mainly her own insecurities. Elven women tended to be regarded the world over in a sort of adolescent infatuation and Lady Bryce was instantly distrustful of them.

Milana dropped gracefully into one of the chairs in front of the desk and smiled in a snake-like way. "He took our plans pretty well though. Better than I thought he would. Can I have some wine?"

LAdy Bryce wordlessly poured some wine into a tumbler and passed it across. The Elf sipped it, looking uncharacteristically troubled. "Listen... Tanya. I need to know I have your full support on this..."

It was odd being addressed by her first name, but Milana was among the few who was entitled to. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if things go wrong... I don't want to be left out in the cold." the Elf looked up at her and Lady Bryce saw pain in those perfect green eyes. "This is my last operation."

Lady Bryce looked shocked. "But I thought... the Reich--"

Milana looked away. "Meeting Irving again... I'm old, Tanya. In human years, at least... the world's changed and passed me by. And..." she glanced up cautiously at Lady Bryce. "I think I'm in love. Always have been."

"You are? You were? I mean... that could... will that jeapordise your objectivity? No I'm sorry, that was cold. You've just caught me out is all... is it... Sir Irving?"

The Elf nodded. "We've both sacrificed love for country, Tanya." she said quietly. "That's what it takes to do what's necessary for millions of people. I just don't want to do it anymore. I can't."

Lady Bryce said nothing, her face shadowed and unreadable in the dim light of the table lamp. Milana stared at her, trying to guage a reaction. "So... yes. This is my final operation. After that I will be handing in my resignation to you."

Lady Bryce smiled. "Good. That's good. You deserve to be happy."

"No. But I don't deserve to suffer anymore. I've paid my penance." she shifted slightly in her seat and the moment was broken. "Rathanan will be making a move by now, towards Colombia no doubt. That's where I shall be soon. In the meantime... I advice you to go ahead and meet with the Emperor. Talk the terms of peace. Play the game for all it's worth."

"I intend to."

"Remember though... it's a game. A game with the highest stakes but a game nonetheless. Either way this game goes... we win."

Lady Bryce smiled grimly and held up her wine glass. "To winning."

Milana clinked the lass with her tumbler and took a gulp of the wine. "To winning, indeed."

***

Grand House of Baron

Sir Irving listened to the Rathani Ambassador's speech without turning a hair or batting an eyelid and eventually stood in turn to reply. When the President of the House recognised Chimaea, he nodded and wore a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I in turn appreciate the posturing of my Rathani counterpart. I see feathers have been ruffled which must be soothed...

"On the subject of talks, I communicated to the former Ambassador and I now communicate to you that Governor Bryce is willing to hold face-to-face talks with your Emperor. I suggest using the facilities on Baron Isle, with security provided by a neutral third nation. I'm sure you'll find this agreeable. We are ready when you are.

"On the subject of POW exchanges... all Rathanan combatants will be released in return for all Chimaean combatants being released. The exchange shall take place in stages of 200 at a time... if any of your POWs are harmed, there shall be no exchange. Do not presume to threaten us--please remember that we can match you threat for threat, despite your blatant disregard for human rights and the geneva conventions."

The Grand House of Baron

Rochstein have a maniacal, unnerving, smile to Sir Irving as he stood up.

"The Ambassador from Rathanan is recognized." The president half groaned.

"Thank you Mr. President." Rochstein opened, his white teeth gleeming in his fake smile. "So now Chimaea thinks IT'S calling the shots? Last I checked, Ambassador, Bordoria and Rathanan, not Chimaea, were the victors in this war." He said. "The POW tradeofs will go as we and Bordoria decide, and we have our deadline." The Ambassador said. "You're also mincing my words, assuming that I ment mass execution.... By no means, Ambassador." The Ambassador added. "Now, what I propose is, we use ships and landing craft to trade them off." He said, his mocking smile turning into a grim glare. "We take all of the POWs on either side, load them onto aircraft carriers... In international waters, we put them in landing craft, and trade them off... Very simple idea if you ask me... And a whole lot less tension building than 200 at a time." The Ambassador proposed. "The families of our brave soldiers want them back home where they belong, and I assume that your soldier's families feel the same way.... Blizzards are heading right for our POW camp areas, so I recommend that you move with haste." He added. "As for your proposal for talks, the Island of Baron is absolutely fine by us, but face to face talks with the Emperor himself might not happen.... You see, Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan has better things to do, like rebuild St. Cypher City and to work against Chimaean aggression." The Ambassador snapped. "As it stands right now, the Minister of Diplomacy, Andreas Calvictis, shall deal with Bryce." He hissed. "I thank you, and I yield the rest of my time to the chair." The Ambassador concluded, as his eyes narrowed.

Hevlimar City International Airport - Ashlavar

Sargent Andrew Benodicia and Capitan Robert Chavez of the Holy Inquisition Spy Network were going up an escolator in the Hevlimar City International Airport in the Federal Republic of Ashlavar. It was a very dirty airport, as Hevlimar City was a very dirty city, and already, there were 2 attempts to mug both of them... Obviously, with their training in the Inquisition, the muggers soon regreted their mistakes.

"The sooner we can get out of this dive, the better." Sargent Benodicia growled.

"I agree, I think I saw rats in plain sight in the bathroom... I don't know how this place stays together." Capitan Chavez remarked as they stepped off the escolater.

As they walked down the concourse to their gate, a man in a trench coat met them.

"Hail to God and Holy Emperor." The man said in Latin, his voice muffled by a scarf.

"Hail." Benodicia and Chavez both responded, also in Latin.

"Message from Inquisition HQ, make sure no one tails you at anytime... We suspect the Chimaean Spy Networks will assume that the Inquisiton will take action and send agents to Columbia." The man said in Latin, his voice still muffled by his scarf.

"I agree, thank you Mr. Stevens." Said Capitan Chavez said, shaking his hand. "We must be off, our plane is departing in 10 minutes." He added as they began to walk away.

"Mr. Stevens? That's not a Rathani name... Sounds more Chimaean if you ask me." Said Sargent Benodicia.

"Well, my last name isn't exactly Rathani either, but that's his code name... He's our top agent in Ashlavar." Chavez responded in a hushed tone. "Here's our gate." He added, pointing to the sign.

"Now loading rows 1-10" Said the flight attendent.

"That's us, let's go..." Chavez said as they got in line. "Ah, here you go madam." He said as he handed his and Benodicia's tickets to the flight attendant.

"Thank you, sir, and thank you for flying FRA Air." The flight attendent responded in a fake perky tone.

The first checkpoint was done, Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodicia were on a plane heading towards Chimaean Columbia.....

The Holy Imperial Palace - Throne Room

Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan was looking out of one of the giant, ornate, windows in the Throne Room again. As he watched, snow began to fall from the sky onto St. Alexander City. It was night now, and the snow looked rather beautiful in the darkened city. As he watched, the door opened and slammed suddenly. Startled, the Emperor turned around to see General Octavius, one of his head Generals in charge of Operation Tape.

"Sorry if I startled you, Holy Emperor, but I'm here to report to you that the first batch of nuclear arms are completed." The General reported as he saluted the Emperor.

"Good, just don't scare me like that again... I'm glad that the first batch is done... Much sooner than originally planned too." The Emperor said. "Give the workers all of the Christmas Festival week off... They deserve it." The Holy Emperor added, turning back towards his window. "And try to be quiet, my family is asleep." The Emperor added.

"Yes, Holy Emperor." The General added as he saluted and walked out of the door quietly.

"You've had your move, Bryce, now it's my turn." The Holy Emperor muttered to himself as he glared through the window.

Sir Irving regarded Rochstein blankly, unsettlingly reminded of Herman Goering's fanatical patriotism during the Nuremberg Trials--leaders of a shattered people and the followers of a dead genocidal maniac. Illusion of power in the face of nothingness.

When it came to be his turn to speak, he adapted the calm, peaceful demeanour which he'd long ago calculated would drive people nuts. His tone was perfectly calm and matter-of-fact. Annoyance was a good weapon in the right hands.

"I seem to have misheard Ambassador Rochstein, Mr. President--the accoustics in this chamber mustn't be as good as we thought it was." There were a few wry smiles from the assembled delegates. "The Commonwealth deployed military forces into Rathanan with one objective--to get rid of Rathanan's mass-strike capabilities. This objective has been well and truly accomplished. If we had truly wanted to invade and occupy Rathanan, the First Fleet and the full force of the Army would have been deployed. Our amed forces are well-trained and equipped to do just that--our operations in Amerigo during the Slaver War, the Hrstrovokian Crisis, the Borogrovian intervention... even Street Island attest to that. This is modern warfare, Mr. Ambassador, not Ancient Rome--we do not apply such archaic terms as 'victory' and 'defeat'. The success of our operations depends on the accomplishment of mission goals, all of which have been accomplished.

"As for the issue of POWs, we will do so in groups of 200 at a time. It is your duty under the geneva conventions to maintain the health and well-being of your captive combatants. If you do not respect this, we do not need to either... that's how it works. So enough of your posturing. Your idea about the exchange taking place in international waters is sound enough, though aircraft carriers would not be needed for this. A balanced force of hospital ships, troop transports and a small guard will be fine. Furthermore, Bordorian POWs will not be included in an exchange with Rathanan, we shall negotiate an exchange with Bordoria separately.

"If your Emperor has no time for us, then we will not have any time for him. There will only be a top-level meeting between the leader of your nation and the leader of ours--if anything comes out of this, I'm sure there will be further diplomatic talks to finalise details and plans. If you don't agree to this then you are clearly wasting our time."

***

Chimaean Airfield on the outskirts of Bogota, Colombia

This close to the elections, the air traffic was busy in the large military airfield. International observers, election workers and a strong military presense meant a lot of aircraft constantly landing and taking off.

So when the small, grey, non-descript military transport plane touched down and taxied to a hangar in the early hours of the morning, no-one gave it any special notice. When it reached the hangar the engine stopped and the ramp extended out, touching the concrete floor with a clang. From inside the plane emerged eight soldiers in the uniform of Chimaean Infantry--though they didn't move like regular infantry. They scanned the hangar and moved silently on booted feet, without talking.

After the soldiers came Milana, wearing the uniform of an Army Captain. Her automatic pistol now in a holster at her waist. As she walked down the ramp, a suited figure emerged out of the shadows at one end of the hangar, ignoring the rifles already trained on him. He smiled at the Elf and extended a hand. "Good morning, I'm General Charles Worset, Commanding Officer of the Chimaean Armed Forces Colombia Deployment. I was informed you'd be arriving today so took the opportunity to meet you in person."

Milana smiled. "To what do I owe this honour, General?"

Worset smiled back. "I just wanted to let you know that I do not approve of you conducting operations in Colombia without my knowledge."

Milana chuckled. "Yours is not to question why, General. Our operations are to remain classified, even from you. If I find anyone else knows about this--"

Worset waved a hand impatiently. "Cut the crap, you know I wouldn't reveal your presense. I just don't like not knowing what's happening in the country I'm charged with protecting."

Milana reached into a pocket and brought out a pair of sunglasses. "The Governor is aware of this, General," she replied, putting the sunglasses on. "But this is the way it's got to be."

Worset stepped closer to her, ignoring the clicks of the soldier's rifles as they went live. "I'll be watching you, Captain. Don't think you can be invisible in Colombia while I'm here."

Milana merely grinned. "I would expect nothing less. Now then... have you got cars here, or do we have to walk?"

The Home of Ambassador Haupsburg - Lakeside district of St. Androphine City - Rathanan

Ambassador sat his favorite chair in a darkened room and remembered back when he first saw his son.

The look on his face

He tooks out a cigar and lit it as he tried to relax a bit.

The bloody stump that was his left leg.

He blew out the smoke and reached for a bottle of whiskey.

Chimaea, Chimaea is soley at fault..

He took the cigar out of his mouth and downed a shot of whiskey.

Powerhungry imperialism, the war of nukes was void...

The Whiskey scorched the back of his mouth as he swallowed it.

Chimaea is the enemy, the son shall be avenged by the father.

Haupsburg put the glass down and picked up the phone next to him and taped in a number idley.

"Hello?" The female voice on the other end greeted.

"Yes, is Minister Calvictis in?" The Ambassador muttered.

"No, he just left for the night, may I take a message?" The woman, obviously Minister Calvictis's secretary, answered.

"Yes, this is Ambassador Haupsburg, I wanted to tell him that I'm coming back to work in six days, I just wanted him to inform Ambassador Rochstein of the change in plans." The Ambassador said.

"Very good, Ambassador Haupsburg, I shall give this message to him first thing in the morning." The secretary chirped.

"Than-" The Ambassador began, but the phone went dead. Haupsburg sighed and looked up at the cross hanging over his mantle piece. "Lord, I know what you say about revenge, help me to do my best to continue to do my duty without the motive of vengence against those who disabled my son.." The Ambassador prayed. "For your son paid the ultimate price for all of our sins, to him be the glory and honor forever.. Amen." He continued as he got up and stumbled towards his bedroom...

St. Alexander City - Opera House

Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan and the entire Holy Imperial Family sat in their box seat and watched the famous Rathani written opera O Magnum Mysterium. It was a beautiful opera, written completely in Latin. The Holy Emperor's enjoyment of the opera was soon disrupted, however, as High Inquisitor Mathias Olivegrove soon appeared behind him, tapping him on the back.

"Holy Emperor, may I have a word?" The High Inquisitor asked in a whisper.

"This better be important, Mathias, I like this song." The Emperor growled.

"I think this will be worth your time, Holy Emperor." Mathias whispered back

"Fine, then let's get this over with." The Holy Emperor remarked as he got up and left the Imperial Box with his High Inquisitor.

As the shut the door behind them, the Holy Emperor turned around quickly. "What couldn't wait until tomorrow, Mathias?" He snapped.

"Haupsburg, according to our phone taps, Mr. Haupsburg wants to go back to the Grand House of Baron." Mathias said.

"Yes? So what? Haupsburg is much better than Rochstein anyway... I don't see the problem here." The Emperor hissed back.

"Well, you see, Rochstein never really retired from the Inquisition..." Mathias mumbled.

"WHAT?! But I saw the retirement party and everything, how is he not retired?" The Holy Emperor stated in shock.

"Well, he was and he wasn't.. If you read the retirement orders, it said 'honorably discharged from full and active duty..' not 'honorably discharged from the Inquisition Spy Network.'" Mathias said hesitantly. "He's been in reserve... We need him in the Grand House of Baron for at least 2 more weeks, he's collecting valueable information for us." Mathias added.

"So, wait, let me get this straight, I appointed an Inquisition Spy to be the Ambassador to Bordoria?!" The Emperor groaned. "Do not let this leak! If anyone else finds out, shoot first and ask questions later!" The Emperor hissed. "If Bordoria finds out we've had an Inquisition spy in their midst all this time, we could lose our one and only ally in this cause!" The Emperor added.

"Well, we wasn't active at that time..." Olivegrove muttered.

"I don't care, anyone can take this the wrong way... Clean this up, Mathias, I want nothing left in the way of proof for this." The Emperor ordered.

"Already been done, Holy Emperor. All I need from you is to keep Rochstein in and Haupsburg out for about two weeks..." Mathias stammered in a reassuring tone.

"If this spills, it's going to be on your head, Mathias, just remember that." Lucius warned. "Good night." He added as he sharply went back to his box seat.

"What was that all about?" One of the Emperor's sisters whispered in his ear.

"Nothing important, just the usual reports." He whispered back.

"Oh, boring stuff." She muttered.

"Yes, boring stuff, aren't you glad you're not Holy Emperor?" Lucius chuckled slightly.

The Grand House of Baron - After Sir Irving's comeback

Rochstein, the patient man he usually was, stood up and waited for the president to recognize him.

"The Ambassador from Rathanan is recognized." The president said.

"Thank you Mr. President." Rochstein began. "To address the attacks from my Chimaean associate, I would like to remind him that your war wasn't about nukes, that was a secondary concern, you were there to topple the Holy Emperor, your predecessor said so in his beginning speeches..." Rochstein said as thumbed his touch screen, causing qoutes from Ambassador Robertson to appear on screen. "So please, don't try to cover up your motives, just own up to your cause and your defeat at St. Cypher." The Ambassador added thumbing his touch screen again, causing pictures of destroyed and dying Chimaean ships to appear on screen. "These are pictures taken from our naval vessles after the short skermish on the shore of St. Cypher.... Please tell me something, my fellow Ambassadors, how is this NOT a defeat?" He asked mockingly as he thumbed his touch screen again, causing pictures of dead Chimaean soldiers to come up. "Again, your infintry war, the Holy Imperial Army and the Bordorian Royal Marines washed over your soldiers like water on rock.... How is this not a defeat for Chimaea?" The Ambassador mocked again. "As for your address about us breaking the Geneva conventions, we had no intention to do so... The harsh penalties I was refering to are these.." He said, thumbing his touch screen, causing a weather report to come up. "It's that time again for Northern Rathanan, hard hitting Blizzard after hard hitting Blizzard... We don't have the surpluss to do an adaquate job of keeping your soldiers warm and healthy in the cold weather..... With the expense of St. Cypher and soldier funerals, we can only afford to keep the status quo for your POWs." He added. "So it's quite expected for large numbers of Chimaean POWs to begin freezing to death as the blizzards pound the region where most of our POW camps are." He mentioned. "We see no fit reason for either side to lose any more soldiers, so I believe my plan will be the more proficiant one in this case." He added. "As for your idea of medical ships, that's perfectly acceptable by me and I'll pass that idea along to my superiors." He resigned. "Medical ships would prevent a possible military stand off... I only recommended Aircraft Carriers for their spaceiousness..." He added. "Also, to be frank I was refering to Rathanan's POWs alone from the beginning, you must be misunderstanding me, there must be an accustics problem in here..." Rochstein said, his grim look turning into a mocking smile. "The Holy Empire would also appriciate it if you used the term 'POW' for our POWs instead of 'Captive combatants.' He hissed with his mocking smile turning back into a glare. "Combatant is generally a term given to Terrorists, Ambassador." He growled. "Our soldiers aren't terrorists, they are a fully recognized, organized, and feared military, and if we hear anything about you treating our soldiers as if they're anything short of that, we see no reason not to strip your soldiers of even the lightest jacket... Terrorists don't deserve even an attempt to be shielded from the blizzards that are fast approaching... Treat others was you would have them treat you, Ambassador." Rochstein growled.

Grand House of Baron

Sir Irving listened impassively to Rochstein's words, making the odd note here and there, then stoof as the President recognised him.

"Thank you, Mr. President... We initially condemned the Holy Empire's human rights record, which by the way still remains disgraceful... to which the former Rathani Ambassador threatened us with nuclear weapons. I cannot offhand say that we intended to topple the current regime in Rathanan, but I certainly admit that we intended to pressure the Emperor into a more humanitarian stance. However, that's neither here nor there. As I said, we deployed our forces into Rathanan to address one main objective, which is to disarm Rathani nuclear weapons to the extent where their mass-strike capability is disabled. This objective has been accomplished."

He thumbed his touch screen and the main screen in the Chamber lit up with a detailed military map of St. Cypher. As he spoke, the map changed, showing the battle and occassionally zooming out to show the Chimaean deployments around Rathanan. "Now, with any engagement of this magnitude, we didn't go in expecting to have no losses." He looked slowly around the Chamber at all the delegates. "People will die. Ships will be lost. The Chimaean Armed Forces will have damages. This is the nature of any such operation, and it is the high price we pay for safety from a threat like this.

"Now, this mission was not an occupation. This means we did not intend to stay and take over. We had one goal in mind and when that goal is accomplished, we intended to leave. Which is what we did, deciding the best way to leave is when the opposed forces are concentrating on a single major point. That point, fellow nation, was the city of St. Cypher. The Rathani and Bordorian forces launched a concentrated offensive en masse to regain St. Cypher..." he thumbed the screen and it zoomed out. "...As the rest of our Rathanan deployment readied for extraction, their missions complete. Once the offensive was launched, we held a series of withdrawals in St. Cypher, timed with the extractions all over Rathanan, and then withdrew from the city under fire to the beaches, where they were extracted to waiting Naval vessels."

"These images also show the losses taken by the Rathani Navy. Both sides copped losses but the Chimaean presense held strong.

"As for the POWs... they are your responsibility to take care of. Consider having Baron Aid care for them, through our expense, whilst you maintain control over them. We are willing to initiate an en masse exchange, however it will take time.

"Your objections to our wording is duly noted; however 'combatant (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Combatant)' is not a word that usually denotes terrorist. A terrorist fits the definition of an unlawful combatant in the Geneva Conventions--though of course, the exact phrase does not appear in the Conventions, being interpreted by the definitions in Article 4 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unlawful_combatant). We say captured combatants because we have, amongst these combatants, certain fighters who do not fit into the terms of combat defined in Article 4... Militiamen or armed civilians who were not commanded by a person responsible for his subordinates; did not have a fixed distinctive sign recognizable at a distance; did not carry arms openly and did not conduct their operations in accordance with the laws and customs of war. Most have been processed and identified as unlawful combatants. The question remains what to do with them... The three options are that we make an exception and allow them to be exchanged with the POWs, that we release them into Rathani custody to be tried under appropriate laws or trying them ourselves." Sir Irving frowned slightly. "I fear it will be a thorny issue. Your soldiers, of course, have nothing to fear from this side of things."

***

OOC: I added that thing about unlawful combatants to throw a spanner in the works. If you want to not bother with that, I'll take option one and just return them with your other POWs... I'm assuming from your descriptions that the Chimaean Army would have taken into custody militia or armed civilians who'd try to kill them. Sorry for getting a bit detailed, but I've read up on this Geneva Convention stuff and it's fascinating. Trying to civilise war! Human beings are amazing.

Also not sure where you're going with this former Inquisitor business--am I able to find out?

((Oh, :p you'll find out, Chimaea... You'll find out.... Basically he's going to be a key player in drawing up accusitions that Chimaea supplied the communist rebels during the Rathani Civil War.... Right now he's trying to find weak spots in Sir Irving.... Then Haupsburg is going to come back as the Ambassador and Rochstein is going to model the accusitions and use Haupsburg's more pragmatic personality to initiate it. That's a bit of a sneak preview.))

The Grand House of Baron

Ambassador Rochstein gave Sir Irving a look, his blank eyes becoming even more heart piercing as he stood up.

After the President recognized him, he began in his normal, soft, but bonechilling tone. "Baron aid would be welcomed with your funding... If you can provide the means, by all means, go ahead and do it." He began. "However, keep in mind, the Holy Empire reserves the right to screen every Baron Aid member that enters Rathanan, and no Chimaean members will be allowed in." He said calmly. "I'm glad you finally saw reason and agreed to a full trade off, this is for the interest of your soldiers, last I heard, blizzards are already starting to pound the region." He added, smirking a little bit at how brilliant the Army was to put the POW camps in a place that gave him the most political leverage. "Just keep in mind, Ambassador, the more you dottle, the more likely it is that some POWs will be returning home in a brick of ice." He added. "I also don't believe you can blame the civilian milita for doing what they did.. It's called patriotism, Ambassador, we all know the Chimaean people would do the same if we occupied one of your major cities." He said in a somewhat chilling tone. "But if you're going to be the hypocrite you always are... For the sake of our patriots, we accept your offer to bring them back to us." He growled slightly. "Thank you, and i yield the rest of my time to the chair." He concluded as he gave his trademarked glare to Sir Irving.

The Holy Imperial Palace - Throne room

Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan looked out one of the gaint, ornate glass windows in the throne room and observed St. Alexander City below him. There was quite a bit of snow on the ground now, but no where near as much as northern Rathanan, which was taking a severe beating.... The setting sun glisened on the snow covered streets and rooves. All throughout the city, he saw shop owners, home owners, and city employees putting up decorations for the upcoming Christmas Festival.

"I suppose I need to get that order for the Army to delegate troops to help with the problems in northern Rathanan... It may be quiet now, but the more it snows, the more problems we'll have to solve.." The Emperor muttered, heading over to a stack of papers.

As he scribbled his signature on the order, he heard the door open and close quickly. He looked up and saw the priest of the Holy Imperial Cathedral standing before him.

"Greetings, Father Auctorus... How are you this evening?" The Holy Emperor asked as he put his glasses on to read another order waiting for his signature.

"Greetings, Lucius, your mother wanted me to check up on you." The priest said.

"Does she now? I'm not seven, Father Auctorus, I run this country... Not a playground of Tinker Toys..... I've survived an assassination attempt, a civil war, and an invasion by a nation that dwarfs China. I think I can take care of myself." The Emperor mumbled as he signed a sheet.

"Okay, so you're fine then... But I needed to ask you something..." The priest said.

"Go on, Father, I'm a tad bit busy ordering the buying of even more snow plows for St. Mathew City.... Funny that they asked for more three orders ago." He muttered. "But I always have time for the Church."

"Well, I just wanted to know how you were going to go about getting our POWs back... I'm getting lots of letters from mothers who are getting more and more frustrated with the idea that their child is going to miss the Christmas Festival and service." He said hestitantly. "Since I'm your priest, I suppose they figure I could address these concerns for them."

"Well you can tell the mothers that I and the whole nation are indebted to their children for their sacrifice for Rathanan and that Ambassador Rochstein on the Island of Baron is work as hard as he can to get them home.." He said. "Which is all true... No political spin needed for that..." He added.

"And what about meeting with Lady Bryce, do you plan to do that?" The priest asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I honestly don't know..." Lucius muttered, eyeing the monsterous stack of concerns that needed to be addressed. "I'll see how things turn out... Frankly, I want little or nothing to do with that forsaken woman." He growled.

The elderly priest nodded slightly and reverently. "Very good, Lucius, I shall leave you then.." He said.

"No problem, Father, take care of yourself.... I look foward to morning prayers tomorrow." Lucius responded as he scribbled his signature on another sheet of paper.

Chimaean Columbia - Airport

Agents Benodecia and Chavez got off their plane and slid on their dark sunglasses.

"Well, that was a miserable flight... I swear, if that child cried one more time, I would have lost it." Benodecia mumbled.

"Yes, well, we're here now and we have a job to do." Chavez mumbled back as he and Benodecia presented their forged Ashlan passports to the customs agent.

"What is the nature of your visit?" The agent asked as she looked over the passports.

"We're political science students at the University of Hevlimar City and we're taking time during the winter holidays to observe what's going on here." Chavez said in a perfect Columbian sounding accent. "We also plan to visit my extended family, my parents are originally from here and emigrated to Ashlavar when Chimaea took control here." He added.

"Very well, Mr. Sanchez ((Chavez)) and Mr. Hernandez ((Benodecia)), everything looks to be in order.... Enjoy your stay." The Customs agent said, handing them back their passports.

"Thank you." They both said as they walked off.

"Phase one completed, now, we need to make contact with the groups that are expecting us." Chavez muttered.

OOC: Not sure if you meant this, but what I mean is, do I get to find out in character and use that info to my advantage? :p
-----------

Grand House of Baron

Sir Irving smiled back with infuriating blandness. "If any of our POWs die, this decreases the chance of some of yours seeing their families again. Tit for tat, Mr. Ambassador... we may just decide to ask them to stay in Chimaea at one of our Goverment facilities at the Governor's pleasure. POWs are at your mercy so are your responsibility to keep alive.

"As for your militia and terrorists... we haven't decided what to do with them. They do pose a legal challenge. Not only were they unlawful combatants but they were encouraged to be so by the Rathanan state. In fact we have accounts of weapons and other military resources being supplied to them by the state. In light of this, we certainly do not trust the Rathanan legal system to deal with them in a just manner..." he nodded, keeping his face carefully blank. "I'm sure your conduct throughout all this will be reflected in whatever decision we chose to make. It should be noted that under invasion conditions we would not be irresponsible enough to encourage Chimaean civilians to act militarily as that would give a reason for the opposing forces to slaughter them, amongst many other reasons... Thank you for your time."

***

Bogota, Colombia

"Captain, I've got two likely matches."

Milana looked up from watching the Bogota street outside their dingy apartment. "Tell me."

One of the operatives swung the laptop monitor around for her to see the screen. "Sanches and Hernandez, political students from the University of Hevlima City. Originally Colombian, emigrated to Ashlavar after FARC dissolved."

Milana raised an eyebrow. "Most likely customers?"

"It's difficult to tell and our contacts in Ashlavar are investigating... it's a good disguise, political science students here for the elections. Except they haven't signed up with any of the observation groups or universities here, or any tours. Nothing unusual, but the likeliest contenders."

"Good. All right. We'll know either way when the insurgents try to meet with them."

((No, if you're going to discover my Inquisition agents I want the other plot to be more discrete and successful.... Though not nessisarily completely successful.))

Ambassador Rochstein's temporary apartment

Rochstein losened his tie as he reached the door to his apartment. This time, however, when he reached his door, he noticed something strange about his doornob. He had definately been in the service of the Inquisition long enough to know that the lock had been picked. Quietly, Rochstein threw off his coat the the ground as well as he dress shirt, so that only his undershirt remained. Within a second, Rochstein kicked in the door, ready to unload an asswhooping on the person who was in his apartment... However, Rochstein met the eyes of someone he didn't expect... High Inquisitor Mathias Olivegrove himself. Stunned, Rochstein picked up his coat and shirt from off the floor and stared at his superior, who was sitting by a fire.

"Rochstein, the time for political restraint is over... In three days the real ambassador to the Grand House of Baron, Constantine Haupsburg, will be returning." Mathias greeted grimly.

"So am I being sent back to Bordoria?" Rochstein asked in a murmur.

"No, infact, you're staying right here... We have bigger plans for you now, Rochstein... Consider your days in reserve over." The High Inquisitor said frankly. "Here are your new orders.... In them, there's the desired response to that bastard, Irving and his threats..." He added as he handed Rochstein a mannila folder with the red "Top Secret" stamp on it.

"I understand, sir... I'll begin cleaning up so Haupsburg can come back." Rochstein replied.

"Good." The High Inquisitor muttered as he stood up and headed for the door. "Please don't make any mistakes, Rochstein... I count on you for your exeplary record." He added.

As the High Inquisitor left the apartment, Rochstein opened up the folder and began to read them.

"Command gets more and more daring by the minute." He said as he smirked. "This should be interesting... Now, where are those blank tapes?" He added.

The next day at the Grand House of Baron

"The Ambassador of Rathanan is recognized." The President said.

"Thank you Mr. President." Rochstein said in his usual fashion. "First of all, I would like to begin by informing all of you that our regular ambassador, Constatine Haupsburg, will be returning in 3 days." Rochstein opened. "It is the policy of the Rathani Ministry of Diplomacy that I step down within 24 hours of his return." He added. "But until then, you're stuck with me." He said in a half joke, but the laughs were all faked. "Anyway, on to business... For Sir Irving's continued threats against our civillians and for his baseless accusitions, we are going to frankly say this." Rochstein said, his venomous tone coming back. "For your baseless accusitions, we're going to raise accusitions that are currently being investigated by the Inquisition." He added. "We have reason to believe that Chimaea supplied the Communist Rebels during the Rathani Civil War... Such an act is a crime under legislation passed in this house and we shall push for the highest penalties possible." Rochstein threatened. "We would also like it to be made known that for every civillian and soldier not returned, 10 Chimaean POWs will be executed on International Television... 10 Chimaean POWs, DAILY." Rochstein said frankly, as he mused at the horrified looks of his associates. "Rathanan shall no longer give concessions to a nation that threatens to murder our civillians and threatens to murder our POWs." He added. "If you thought we had a grusome human rights records against convicted felons, Irving, wait and see what we do to the vile beasts of burden that your soldiers are." Rochstein added. "Your actions are also a prelude to a second war, Irving, and Rathanan isn't afraid of commiting a preemtive strike if we deem it nessisary!" He continued, but was soon inturrupted by the hammer of the president... Who obviously couldn't take more.

"That's enough, Ambassador Rochstein... Ambassador Rochstein's speaking time is expired until his retirement." The president bellowed over the horrified talking of the other Ambassadors in the room..

Rochstein smirked slightly. "Forgive me, Mr. President." He said, knowing he had gotten the desired response... At the door waiting for him were two Inquisition officers, dressed in their black class-A uniforms. Amidst the disruption in the House, Rochstein picked up his suitcase and walked out with the Inquisitors...

((fyi, The Rathani Inquisition wants to give off the appearence that Rochstein gets fired for his actions, so Chimaea won't raise the question of why he doesn't go back to Bordoria... So yes, I did that for a logical reason.))

The Holy Imperial Palace - Briefing Room

Holy Emperor Calidan, Minister of Diplomacy Calvictis, and High Inquisitor Mathias Olivegrove sat at the breefing table.

"Rochstein played his part out brilliantly, Mathias... Prehaps I didn't give him enough credit." The Holy Emperor said to his High Inquisitor. "Only one thing is left.... Here are your orders to "fire" Rochstein." He added as he slid the orders to Calvictis.

"Very good, Holy Emperor, I shall 'fire' him myself tomorrow." Calvictis said, smirking. "To make this even more yummy, I'll issue a press release..." He added.

"Everything is going according to plan, Holy Emperor... Rochstein has already begun to work on our 'proof'." The High Inquisitor said as he lit a cigar and took a long drag on it.

"Good, good.... Prehaps soon we can have a toast to the downfall of the Bryce administration.... We can get what we want out of their opposition party.... Knowing them, they'll try and make concessions to us for the war." The Holy Emperor said as he smirked. "Tonight, the Grand House of Baron, tomorrow, Chimaean Columbia, the day after that, we strike at the belly of the beast!" He added.

OOC: Fair enough, I can't discover Rochstein. Though you do realise that the other plot--if you mean Colombia--you are, in fact, going to succeed as such... just that your success is also what the more shadowy bits of Chimaean government want too.

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

Sir Irving's look of astonishment was completely genuine this time. As Rochstein left, he leaned toward an aide and whispered, "What the hell is he on about? We didn't intervene in their civil war did we?"

The aide, an intelligence attache, shook his head. "We didn't have anything to do with that. We considered peacekeeping forces but CAF was spread thin at that time as it was... We recieved a fair few refugees, at least those that made it across. This sounds like an attempt to throw us off, to me."

"To me, too." As the House quietened down, Sir Irving requested special leave to speak. The President, still looking annoyed, growled an affirmative.

"Fellow nations... After that little outburst, I'm sure nothing I say will be very dramatic." there were a few weak smiles. "However, in his absence and for the record, I shall clear up a few of Ambassador Rochstein's points.

"Firstly... there has never been any Chimaean involvement in any Rathanan civil war. I categorically deny any claims to the contrary and consider such a suggestion laughable. There was international talk of a peacekeeping operation, I believe, but it came to nothing. This is about the extent of our involvement with Rathani domestic affairs.

"Secondly... we have made no threat to murder any civilians or POWs. What we have said was that POWs will be exchanged as planned--however, if Chimaean POWs die under Rathanan care, we will hold Rathani POWs in prison. In prison. We do not have capital punishment.

"The fate of the unlawful combatants have not been decided but the most likely option is that they will be tried in a Chimaean court of law, and sentenced to serve a period of imprisonment depending on the crime. We welcome international observers to these trials should they occur.

"I repeat... Any deaths of our POWs that can be avoided will result in the same number of Rathanan POWs being held back from the exchange.

"Now... I do not know whether Ambassador Rochstein's comments are supported by his nation. Since every nation has a reasonable obligation not to allow madmen to represent them, I shall assume that he is echoing Rathani policy. Chimaean actions are not a prelude to a second war, we have no intention of war at the present time or the near future. However, we always guard against a pre-emptive strike and any such attempt to attack Chimaea or any Chimaean interest will be construed as an act of war." Sir Irving paused and narrowed his eyes. "And this time, we will not stop at destroying Rathanan's nuclear arsenal. Thank you for your time."

***

New Sydney Parliament House, Chimaea--Governor's Office

Lady Mitchelle Douglas, the Chimaean Foreign Minister, entered the Governor's Office to find General de Santuro already seated in front of Lady Bryce's desk. Lady Bryce greeted her and she smiled tensely, handing them folders. "The latest briefings on the Rathanan situation."

Lady Bryce opened the folder but didn't read it, instead looking hard at each of them in turn. "Ok, why don't you just tell me what just happened in Baron Island?"

Lady Douglas shrugged wearily. "The accusations are a distraction, that's clear to anyone. The Grand House will have to investigate anyway. The threats and posturing is just the usual inflamed rhetoric... Intelligence tells us that while, theoretically, they are capable of an attempted attack on Chimaea, the Rathanan military is still reeling from the damage during Operation Broken Arrow. They need time to recover before doing anything major. I suppose they could be aided by Bordoria, but I doubt Bordoria would be willing to risk an outright war with us--too much to lose in the intra-regional and international scene. However, knowing how unstable the current regime is, it is best to err on the side of caution and increase defensive measures.

"What interests me is the sudden shift in approach by Ambassador Rochstein. Our profilers put him down as an experienced and capable diplomat, so this outburst wasn't a heat-of-the-moment thing. This guy is a former Inquisitor, remember--they're not all prone to frothing at the mouth. What will happen to him? He'll probably be dismissed from his post early and shipped back to Rathanan. It's possible he could stay as an adviser or attache to Haupsberg. Either way he drops out of the radar... the question is, why? Is this just an intimidation tactic or something more?"

Lady Bryce frowned. "General?"

General de Santuro nodded briefly. "Our defensive measures have been stepped up, but we've been on a fairly high alert level for a while now. The Second and Third Fleets are more than capable of defending against any attack and we have our ports, airports, bases and so forth well-guarded. The Baron Defence Grid will knock out any small-scale nuclear strikes."

"All right. Keep me informed."

Two Days Later - The House of Baron

The Minister of Diplomacy, Andreas Calvictis, entered the floor, flanked by the International press at every direction. Calvictis took the place of the usual Rathani Ambassador and stood up.

"To what do we owe the honor, Minister Calvictis?" The President greeted.

"Mr. President, fellow Ambassadors.... Most of the elder members of this house remember me as the former Rathani Ambassador to this place until my promotion to my current office." Calvictis began. "Therefore, I dare any of you to challange my record, for you know I am a man of my word and a man of high character." He added as he saw many of the elder members nod in agreement. "Thus, I ask you to trust in my record again when I tell you all that Victor Rochstein's outburst was not a reflection of the policy of our Holy Emperor, and that he did indeed go off on his own tangent at that time." He stated frankly. "Rochstein's actions are not going unpunished, as I released him from his office roughly two hours ago." He said with heavy emphasis. "Ambassador Haupsburg, whom I'm sure you all know by now, will be returning this evening and you can expect him back on the floor tomorrow." He added as he looked sharply at Sir Irving. "As for the requested face to face meetings between the Holy Emperor and Lady Bryce, Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan has agreed to this and has also agreed to use this Island to do it." He remarked. "He would like to address the POW contraversy with Lady Bryce during these meetings, so we needn't waste any more time discussing this issue in this house." He said. "As for the dates of this meeting, we shall either do it before or after the week of Christmas... The Christmas Festival in Rathanan is one of the many customs we have that the Holy Emperor can't get out of easily." He added in a light tone. "Thank you, and now for the VERY last time... I yeild the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded with a grin as some of his former collegues chuckled. After his speech, Minister Calvictis and his obvious bodygaurd shuffled off the floor rather quickly.

The Holy Imperial Palace - Throneroom

High Inquisitor Olivegrove entered the Throneroom in his usual proper manner.

"Andreas has done his part... I knew that record that he likes to brag about would come in handy one day.... Rochstein and his new team are working on duping a photo of a communist rebel to make it look like Chimaean weaponry.... As far as we know... It's the only copy of that photo." He greeted emphatically.

"Good, good.... What about our two agents in Chimaean Columbia?" The Holy Emperor opened.

"They're following protocal to try and get the probabal suspicion off them by doing what they claimed they were there to do... Chavez actually has family there, so that aspect of their story can't rouse suspicion. It will likely be a few weeks before they go into action." Mathias said.

"Well, obviously, I want them to do what makes them the most successful... If that means following protocal, then they have my thumbs up to do so." The Holy Emperor responded. "Now, unless you have other concerns or news, I have yet another big stack of papers to sign or not sign my name on..." The Holy Emperor stated frankly.

"No, no, that's all.... I do believe I have a big stack of papers to sign my name off on too.... You'll be receiving a lot of them within the week so you too can put your signature on them." He responded with a chuckle.

OOC: ok! Second attempt at replying. If this doesn't work I'm gonna take off someone's head with a blunt spoon.

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

Grand House of Baron

After the President of the House had recognised Chimaea, Sir Irving kept his reply short. "Chimaea acknowledges the retraction of Ambassador Rochstein's outburst though our response remains the same.

"I am glad that the Emperor has agreed to a top-level meeting to discuss issues of concern to both our nations. I do understand that national leaders have their work cut out during Christmas... We shall discuss the details of the visit as soon as possible."

***

Bogota, Colombia

Milana sat on the dusty wooden floor, a laptop sitting on her outstretched legs. She finished reading the hourly briefings on the goings on in the Grand House of Baron and sent a message over the secure Chimaean military netowrks to Sir Irving.

TO: Ambassador Disraeli
FROM: ETL53007

Irving, be careful of Haupsberg when he gets back. The shit will hit the fan, HUMINT confirms his son lost a leg and he has been taking care of him. He's intelligent enough to know war is to blame but human enough to be out for blood.

Also, keep your own eyes out for Rochstein. Analysts point the latest distribe as very uncharacteristic. It may be nothing, but be careful. Could be a diplomatic ploy.

Situation here hotting up. Tensions high in preparation for elections, CAF out in force. Might make things hard for us, but we should be good to go.

Take care, Irving.

The last line was rather uncharacteristic of her, pregnant with words unspoken. Milana looked up from the laptop, into the mirror that carefully reflected the street outside without reflecting the team to the street. An armoured personnel carrier moved slowly down the street, it's turret moving. She could make out the distorted reflection of the Chimaean flag printed on the side of the vehicle.

The potentials were being investigated but she was sure that the two that had matched closest were the ones. They were keeping a low-profile and being very professional about it--either that or they weren't the ones. Well, it didn't matter. It was all in the hands of the insurgents now... sooner or later, contact had to be made.

Milana smiled. Welcome to the jungle, we've got fun and games...

The Grand House of Baron - the next day

Ambassador Constantine Haupsburg entered the floor of the Grand House of Baron for the first time in many weeks. As he walked slowly towards the seat of the floor, he was met by numerous Ambassadors from other nations with the usual handshakes and false concerns. Finally, Haupsburg reached his desk and sat down. After he got comfortable, he opened up his briefcase and took out a folder, as he did so, he glared at Sir Irving. As soon as the President called for order in the house and all the other Ambassadors sat down, Haupsburg made his move.

"The Ambassador from Rathanan is recognized." The President said with a welcoming nod.

"Thank you Mr. President." Ambassador Haupsburg opened. "As you all should know, I have been gone for the past few weeks tending to my son who was injured in Chimaea's illegal act of war." Haupsburg said. "You nations know Rathanan's record, you know that we have been a heavily neutral nation... Staying out of every single world war, something that Chimaea definately cannot brag." He added. "Thus, I would like to call out Chimaea's original case for going to war." He mentioned. "Why would everyone feel threatened by us having nuclear arms, when we have a very peaceful history?" He questioned. "I think it's a very simple question, and the Holy Empire shall not accept the usual rhetoric that likes to spill out of their diplomatic team's mouth." He added.

"But I have digressed from the real subject I wish to talk about." He said, opening up the folder he took out earlier. "This is a picture of a communist rebel during the Rathani Civil War." He stated, having an aid put it up on the screen. "As you can see, he's carrying a Chimaean weapon..." He added. "I do believe this raises very serious concerns as to the seemingly rash accusitions that former Ambassador Rochstein raised..... Prehaps there was more merit in his outburst than was first thought." He added. "While we're not stating this evidence is conclusive, we do believe that it now deserves an investigation...." He stated.

"As for the meetings, Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan is taking part in the Christmas Festivities this week, as my superior, Minister Calvictis said." He remarked calmly. "So we were thinking that prehaps the meetings shall take place after Christmas and before New Years Eve... I'm sure both our leaders have family that that'd prefer to be with on the holidays..." He added. "Thank you, and I yield the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded with a nod to the President.

St. Alexander City - Holy Imperial Palace

The Holy Emperor was enjoying a glass of wine while talking to a few city executives. The Holy Emperor and all the senior members of the government, as well as their families, had a separate festival inside the Palace.

"I'd truely like to thank you, Holy Emperor, for the amount of snow plows and soldiers you've designated to St. Mathew City." The St. Mathew City Executive stated. "The blizzards are really bad this year." He added.

"Well, aren't they always? The Holy Empire doesn't forsake its people, Octavius, please do inform me if things start to get worse." The Holy Emperor responded while taking a drink of his wine.

The city executives and the Holy Emperor continued to talk amongst themselves when the Holy Emperor was approached by a tall man with heart piercing eyes, dressed in a Class-A Inquisition uniform.

"Holy Emperor, might I have a word?" The officer asked.

"Is Mathias too lazy to come talk to me now? He should be here..." The Holy Emperor remarked, almost brushing the officer off.

"Yes, precicely. My name is Major Rochstein... I believe you know me more as Ambassador Rochstein." The officer stated frankly.

With that statement, the Holy Emperor promptly faced the man. "You have a lot of nerve coming here, Rochstein, you're supposed to be fired." The Holy Emperor hissed as he almost dragged Rochstein to a corner. "This had better be worth it... You could be jeapordizing the whole plan... We could have Chimaean spies here..." He added.

"That's why I grew out my beard," Rochstein said rubbing his beard. "and that's also why I dyed my hair brown." He added. "I just want to inform you that Ambassador Haupsburg has lit the line of gun powder.... The investigation will begin soon." He stated.

"You do realize that I am the ruler of this nation.... I would have found out without you coming to report to me... Now get out of this palace before I have you thrown out." The Holy Emperor hissed. "I appriciate the thought, and I know you're good, but you're taking a big risk.... Now I have to explain to those city executives who you are..." He added.

"Just tell them I'm one of your bodygaurds expressing a concern to you... They won't question you, my liege, you're the Holy Emperor." He stated as he bowed before the Holy Emperor. "Have a good night, Holy Emperor." He added as he stood up and left the room.

The Holy Emperor grumbled as he watched Rochstein leave the room rather subtly.

"Who was that?" The City Executive from St. Peter City asked.

"Oh, just a bodygaurd expressing a security concern.... You know how they are..." The Holy Emperor responded. "Now, where were we?"

After Haupsberg's speech, Sir Irving leaned towards an aide and whispered, "We didn't supply them, did we?"

"No, sir," the aide whispered back, "We've always been quite careful of who we supply. There's no reason that can't be a Chimaean weapon, obviously, but we didn't supply them to any Communist rebels in Rathanan in any capacity."

Sir Irving nodded, frowned for a moment and stood to be recognised by the President of the House.

"Thank you, Mr. President. Firstly... Chimaea doesn't wish to brag on any policies of isolationism. We live in a global community and we are quite proud to have done our share for global security and human rights... Whether it be against the slave traders in Amerigo, the totalitarianism of GDODAD or the liberation of South-West Syskeyia from the Reich, Chimaea has always been proud of our involvement in various theatres. We do what needs to be done.

"In Rathanan, too, we did what needs to be done. Rathanan's arsenal of nuclear weapons were illegal under the terms of the various treaties in place within Baron. The Holy Empire had undeclared weapons of mass-destruction with mass-strike capability. The Baron Defence Grid is limitted to neutralising a certain number of missile launches at a time to preserve the principle of mutually assured destruction. Rathanan certainly did not have any intention to inform the Security Council of its intentions to build a nuclear arsenal and most certainly did not permit inspections in the building stages, which is another violation of intra-regional law. The current Rathanan regime is unstable, un-democratic and continues to thumb its nose at Baron law. Such an irresponsible attitude should not be backed with nuclear weapons.

"Secondly, the announcement of the existance of a nuclear arsenal when tensions were high was a calculated political manouever--an indirect threat against Chimaea and particularly against our stance on human rights. As no other nation was willing to committ to regional stability and safety, we commenced Operation Broken Arrow ourselves.

"In light of all this can we address Ambassador Haupsberg's comments. It is true that the Holy Empire has been fairly isolationist; however, the nuclear arsenal in their possession was illegal and being used as a prop-up for a despotic regime. The lack of adherence to intra-regional law clearly spells out a lack of responsibility. We initiated Operation Broken Arrow because regional safety and stability were paramount--remember the First Baron War and the nuclear holocaust which ensued. Billions wiped out as if they never existed as a result of a nuclear arsenal in the hands of a tyrannical regime. We will not accept a repetition."

Sir Irving sipped a glass of water and continued. "As for this supposed evidence... Chimaea still denies any involvement in the Rathani Civil War. We did not supply any rebels, we did not committ any forces both regular and irregular. It is entirely possible that the weapon the rebel is carrying is of Chimaean origin... This doesn't, however, prove anything either way. There are multiple ways this rebel could have a Chimaean weapon... it may even be from the international black market. Without further analysation of this picture and a full, third-party and neutral investigation, nothing more can be said on the matter.

"In regards to the meetings, between Christmas and New Year should be fine. Thank you for your time."

The Grand House of Baron

Ambassador Haupsburg looked up from the notes that he typed into his laptop. As soon as Irving had finished with his speech, Haupsburg made his move.

"The Ambassador from Rathanan is recognized." The President said.

"The picture, as I said, isn't conclusive in the slightest.... We at the Holy Empire realize this fully, thus we're not making any offical accusitions." Haupsburg began. "We just said that it raises serious questions that really need to be answered, we believe that the best way to answer these questions, is through an investigation." He added.

"Now, as for your war against us that was illegal in and of itself." He continued. "As for our 'despotic' regieme.... Need I remind the Ambassador from Chimaea that Rathanan is by far the eldest nation in this group?" He asked. "Our system of government has worked very well since before Chimaea or Bordoria were even thought of." He stated. "Lucius Calidan's leadership is by no means unstable.... If it was, the Church of Rathanan would have removed him long ago." He stated frankly. "It is BECAUSE of his leadership that the Holy Empire refused to be pushed around by the powermongering tactics of Chimaea and began to make the nuclear arms in the first place." He remarked. "But, of course, whenever their power is questioned, they must snuff it out.." He added. "Before your 'Operation Broken Arrow' Rathanan had not been to war since before World War 1." He remarked. "But now Chimaea has dragged us much more into the global scene... And I assure you, it's a decision Chimaea will live to regret.... We don't have the tag 'Holy Empire' for nothing, you know." He remarked, obviously trying to get a rise out of Sir Irving.

"Thank you, and I yield the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

The Grand House of Baron

Ambassador Johnston looked at Sir Irving and Ambassador Haupsburg for a minute. For days, no, weeks, on end all he heard was Chimaea and Rathanan snapping back at each other with Bordoria poking in every so often. He knew the forgien policy of his nation and he knew their reason for being part of this empire, but frankly, he couldn't take it anymore.

"The Ambassador from Ashlavar is recognized." The president said, obviously releaved to hear from another nation.

"Mr. President, fellow Ambassadors, I know I get the reputation for being the quietest member of this house, but I feel that I must make something known here." He opened. "The Federal Republic of Ashlavar is really growing tired of this constant and pointless debate... If you can call it that... between Chimaea and Rathanan." He stated frankly.

"I'm going to be frank with you all." He remarked. "Ashlavar has had a nuclear arsenal for awhile.... This has been known to every nation in this house and no nation has risen real concerns about this." He said. "Thus, I am going to be frank when I say that Chimaea's case for going to war with Rathanan... Or even their embargo for that matter.... Was entirely unnessisary and, in our minds, void." He stated.

"In the same way also, however, we don't think very highly of Rathanan's willingness to continue with hostilies with Chimaea." He said. "We realize you lost people and that Chimaea is to blame, but let's just remember the words a wise man once said, 'A house divided cannot stand.'" He added

"Our biggest concern, and prehaps scource of anger over all of this, if your seemingly open willingness to play with the lives and freedom of your soldiers captured on either side." He remarked. "It is completely rational that a few POWs would die on either side.... As it is also completely rational that civilians would take up arms against an invading nation." He added. "Thus we are hereby stating a memorandum, both nations release all captives as soon as possible, or my diplomatic team shall work fervishly to get sanctions put on either side that doesn't cooperate." He stated, knowing he was going to get a good butt chewing from his superiors. "Too much is at stake here to play politics.... I hope the two Ambassadors realize this and come to a compromise..." He added.

"Please remember, we at Ashlavar are not siding with anyone in this debocle." He reassured. "We have trade interests with both of your nations, interests we don't want to see severed." He added.

"Thank you, and I yeild the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

The Grand House of Baron

Ambassador Haupsburg looked at Ambassador Johnston for a minute with a somewhat shocked look.

Is this guy serious? He thought to himself. Ashlavar has enough internal problems.... I don't think they're in much of a position to be posting memorandums... Needless to say, this could work to my advantage. He continued to think as he stood up.

"The ambassador from Rathanan is recognized." The President said, turning his attention towards Haupsburg.

"Thank you Mr. President." Haupsburg began in his usual fashion. "I would like it to be made clear that Rathanan is more than ready to give all of Chimaea's soldiers back to them... CHIMAEA is the nation that's causing the problems with their threats against our civilians." He added. "We would also like to thank Ashlavar for their stance on the Chimaean invasion, and we understand your neutral stance fully." He remarked.

"Thank you, and I yield the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

Bogota Columbia

Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodica sat listening to a politcal speech being made by a politcal hopeful.

"Sir, don't you think we've laid low long enough?" Sargent Benodica leaned over and asked the capitan.

"Patience, Sargent, they are going to contact us, remember?" The capitan said back.

"Fine, fine, just playing politcal junkee is wearing a little thin..." The sargent said back.

"I know, I know.... They should contact me soon... Keep your shirt on, Sargent." The capitan remarked back, turning his attention to the ranting politician.

Grand House of Baron

Sir Irving regarded Ambassador Johnston for a moment. Well the plea was heartfelt, he thought. It's a pity about Colombia... soon it will all be academic.

He stood and was duly recognised by the President of the House.

"With due respect, Ambassador, Ashlavar's nuclear arsenal is in a different league to what the Holy Empire was concocting in secret. It was a declared arsenal and meets the requirements under the various treaties on which Baron is organised. It does not threaten regional stability. Also, the domestic situation and government in Ashlavar do not compose an international threat. Operation Broken Arrow was completely justified.

"Chimaea is willing to negotiate the release of all lawful combatants. We are not threatening the lives of any of the prisoners of war we have in custody--the worst that may happen to unlawful combatants is to be imprisoned on charges of terrorism and murder. But we are willing to make concessions on this, depending on the actions of the Holy Empire."

He paused a bit and eyed Ambassador Johnston warily. He wasn't too afraid of regional sanctions--the regional situation was such that, with two major superpowers on opposing sides, one side imposing sanctions would tip the balance too far and another major hot war wasn't on anyone's agenda. However, a move to sanction the Commonwealth by a smaller and neutral nation wouldn't look good in the international scene. There were other hostile superpowers inter-regionally who would be only too glad to take advantage.

"However, we're not without reason. The Commonwealth respects the views of a neutral party such as Ashlavar and we agree that pointless rhetoric will not get us anywhere. Let's agree to settle these matters at the top-level meetings being organised now.

"Thank you for your time."

***

Bogota, Colombia

Juan de Ballesteros, former FARC field commander, former owner of seven poppy fields and illegal labs producing opium and current commander of the Black Ghosts.

The name was more impressive than the reality. The Black Ghosts was a small cell of geurillas, about seven including de Ballesteros, that had been chosen by what was left of the coalition of insurgents fighting the Chimaean presense, dedicated to carrying out a single mission.

De Ballesteros was one of the last of the FARC originals who hadn't surrendered or collaborated with Chimaea. All the rest were killed or imprisoned by the Chimaean Armed Forces. Their operations against the drug cartels, the insurgency and the assorted private armies had been brutal, hard and harsh. More importantly had been the CAF's war against poverty. The grip the wealthy few had on the poor majority had been broken--lack of education, government corruption, terrible living conditions, drugs... the myriad symptoms of a collapsed society had been overturned. Suddenly, Colombians in Chimaean Colombia had rights as well as responsibilities.

The situation looked grim and de Ballesteros knew it. He looked at his two lieutenants--Domingo Montavez and Valesco de Torrillas. Domingo was their explosives and weapons expert, a quiet, unnoticeable man apart from when he was talking about things that exploded or went bang in some way. Then his steely grey eyes would light up with an inner fire.

Valesco de Torrillas was a pervert. However, he was also a brilliant tactician. De Ballesteros hadn't met anyone who liked Valesco--everyone who encountered him, however briefly, left feeling slightly dirtier. The man was thin and wiry, with burning, mad eyes and a wide, expressive mouth. He was into every perversion de Ballesteros had ever heard about and many he hadn't and didn't want to know.

The three men were in the arranged place, sitting at a table outside a roadside cafe in a busy market. Music, Colombian and Chimaean, floated through the air and people scurried around, haggling and laughing and--

There. The two men approaching them, dressed casually, looking around with interest. He wouldn't have spotted them had they not arranged their appearence beforehand. De Ballesteros looked around cautiously for Chimaean police or military as the two Rathani agents walked to their table.

The Grand House of Baron

Ambassador Johnston eyed Sir Irving for a bit before making his move.

"The Ambassador from Ashlavar is recognized." The President said, somewhat worried that a new nation would join the bickering.

"I rise to make one simple point before we leave here today.." Johnston began. "There is nothing 'unstable' about the Holy Emperor of Rathanan." He stated. "Ashlan businesses have been doing business with Rathanan for a very long time now, the business I used to be on the committee of was one of them." He added. "I have been before the Holy Emperor before and one of my former employees has been just now.... Making a contract to help rebuild St. Cypher City..." He continued. "I believe their forgein policy was much the same as ours.... We'll leave you alone if you leave us alone...." He remarked. "Thus I see their nuclear arsenal no more threatening than ours..." He added. "I am not going to say more as to risk swinging to one side or the other.... But I'm simply going to state this.... Ashlan businesses have hefty contracts with Rathanan and some have hefty contracts with Chimaea.... Thus, our government is willing ot take steps to make sure the two nations don't blow each other to pieces over petty scobbles....:" He stated. "As such, President Todd J. Fulda of Ashlavar is hereby requesting that he be present at the top level talks as a mediator.... Out of character for our nation, especally the Conservative Libertarian Party, of whom the majority of our government belongs, I know.... But we have trade interests we want to see upheld." He said. "Thank you, and I yeild the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

((Sorry if this isn't the best written thing you've ever seen.... My cat was bugging me while I was writing this and I'm a bit under the weather.))

The Grand House of Baron

Ambassador Haupsburg eyed both Sir Irving and Ambassador Johnston, gathered his thoughts, and then stood up for the President to recognize him.

"The Ambassador from Rathanan is recognized." The President said.

"Thank you, I'm going to keep this very short, as it is almost time to end today's scession." Ambassador Haupsburg said. "It is true, yes, that Rathanan has very close trade relations with Ashlan businesses and we wish to see them upheld as well." He stated. "Since both of our nations use and respect the free market system, we see no way that our just conflict with Chimaea should get in the way..." He added. "We have no intention of, how you say, 'blowing Chimaea to pieces,' but at the same time, we are not afraid to do so if it becomes nessisary." He remarked. "As for President Fulda's request to mediate the meetings, we are more than willing to allow him to do so, but we really don't feel it's needed." He said as he eyed the clock. "As far as Chimaea's new willingness to collaborate with us in the release of our people, we agree that it is best left to the top level discussions, as my superior, Minister Calvictis requested." He added. "Thank you, and I make a point of order to ajourn until 9 AM tomorrow." He concluded.

"Is there objection?" The president said, looking to see if hands came up. "Without objection, we stand ajourned until December, 30th at 9 AM." He concluded as he swung his hammer onto his desk.

Bogota, Colombia

((Even though I may not see it, the conversations are in Spanish))

Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodecia continued to look around as if they were just clueless tourists. Eventually they same to the table where the meeting was supposed to take place.

"Do you mind if we join you, sir?" Chavez asked in perfect Spanish.

One of the men nodded at Chavez and the two agents sat down idley. As soon as they sat down, Chavez faced Benodecia, as if in conversation.

"I am Capitan Chavez and this is my associate, Sargent Benodecia." Chavez said, still facing Benodecia with an unserious look on his face.

"We are willing to go with whatever plans you may have for the upcoming elections and we are certainly willing to offer some of our own." Benodecia said as he smiled and laughed a bit at Capitan Chavez. Benodecia then turned to one of the men. "Sir, you look like you need a hankerchef.... You may borrow mine." He said, taking out a hankerchief from his pocket and tossing it at Ballesteros.

Ballesteros opened the Hankerchief, and there was a map of the jungle on it with a message at the corner.

Mark your current position on the map..... Do it when the check arrives." The note read.

Ballesteros, somewhat irritated that these Inquisition members obviously didn't think he knew what he was doing, mumbled something to himself, but soon remembered to thank Benodecia.

"Ah yes, thank you sir." Ballesteros responded, whiping his mouth with a part of the hankerchief not covered with the map.

After a minute of seemingly usual and friendly conversation, the waiter came to the table with the check.

"Your check, sirs." The waiter said, handing it to Ballesteros.

Ballesteros went over the check with his pen, and quickly scribbled something on the hankerchief that was under it.

"Yes, yes, this seems to be in order." Ballesteros stated. "Unless my math is failing me now." He added. "Here you go." He said, handing the right amount of Chimaean Sils to the waiter as he came back.

"Thank you sir and have a nice day." The waiter responded.

"And you." Ballesteros said as they all got up and prepared to leave.

"Oh! -- sir, your hankerchief!" He called out to Benodecia.

"Oh, thank you." Benodecia said, taking the hankerchief from him. "Have a good day." He added.

After the Black Ghost members left, Benodecia and Chavez muttered something to each other and began to walk towards a political rally of sorts.... Objective B was out of the way....

The Island of Baron

Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan stepped into his suite on the Island of Baron. He was none to thrilled about this meeting with Tayna Bryce.... Usually he let Calvictis and Haupsburg solve these things. However, Calvictis is a persuasive man in many respects.... Especally when you end up drinking a few rounds of port with the man. The main thing that irritated him about this though, was the fact that it was 20 degrees (Fahrenheit) for the usual high in St. Alexander City these days.... It was still a comfortable 70 degrees on the Island of Baron.... Needless to say, the Holy Emperor's sinuses were feeling the weather change.

"Have you complied the list I asked for, Ezra?" He asked as a young, middle eastern woman walked in with a briefcase.

"Yes, Holy Emperor, it's right here." She said, fuddling wiht numerous folders and handing him one. "I typed them up yesterday... Right after you asked." She added, obviously trying to suck up a bit.

"Well good for you." The Holy Emperor remarked in a sarcastic tone. "Now, tell me again, why did I get you, a mid level beaurocrat in the Department of Dipolmancy, and not Minister Calvictis himself?" He asked, turning to face the woman.

"Well, er--uh--well-- he said that his wife is sick.... Something about complecations with the flu or something..." She responded in a shaken tone.

"Complecations with the flu? Who gets complecations with the flu anymore.... It's 2005, not 1805." He muttered as he went over to his sink and turned on the water.

"I don't know, Holy Emperor, that's just what he said." Ezra responded, her legs quivvering with fear, especally as an Inquisition bodygaurd entered the room with the Emperor's luggage.

"Your luggage, Holy Emperor." The Bodygaurd said as he snapped to full attention.

"Thanks Magrum, just put it by my bed and do.... Whatever you Inquisition bodygaurds do when I'm not in mortal danger." The Holy Emperor said as he splashed his face with water.

"Yes, Holy Emperor." The bodygaurd responded as he put suitcases by the Emperor's bed and walked out.

"Well, since Andreas has proven himself, yet again, to be a bit of a slacker as old age approaches him, you'll have to do, Ezra." The Holy Emperor said, patting his face dry.

"Thank you, Holy Emperor.... Did you need anything else?" She asked, still quaking in her high heeled shoes.

"Unless you want to hang up my clothes while I take a shower, no." The Holy Emperor said, taking off his tie.

"Uh--er--I guess I could do that." Ezra responded.

"Good, but first, get out of my room for about 5 minutes... I'm not going to take a shower in my suit, you know." Lucius said.

"Of course, Holy Emperor." She responded as she exited the room quickly.

"Beurocrats..." The Holy Emperor muttered as he took off his shirt..

OOC: Um, okay, but you better not make any spelling errors that I can see. That kind of ideology can backfire, you know. Knootoss and Rathanan haven't been to war, either. While there would be Rathani Agents working in Knootoss, Chimaea is the primary target for pretty much all aspects of the Rathani Government. Now, if you please, take your smart ass comments to telegrams, they have no place on this thread.

OOC: Gently does it, gentlemen. The problem with involving Knootoss is that Rathanan (or Chimaea, come to that) wouldn't want to escallate this too much. And besides, Knoot said he may drop in from time to time, but doesn't want to committ too much alongside his hundred other RPs ;)

-----------

Bogota, Colombia

Milana looked up as one of the other Operatives stood suddenly, waving a palmtop. "Contact established."

She nodded in reply and opened up her laptop, tapping it with one finger as she waited for the programs to load. "Does General Worset have any idea?"

"Not according our sources, but no doubt he'd be keeping an eye on us."

The Elf smiled thinly and studied the screen on her laptop. So it was the two students, after all. They were meeting up with the Black Ghosts... the ones who'd survived a dozen CAF purges. The problem with survivors, though, was that they had a tendancy to go on surviving.

Milana logged into the secure CAF network and studied the transport records and rosters. There were at least twelve flights to a CAF base in the same region as La Muerte Hermosa, an area roughly in the middle of Amazonas (http://www.lib.utexas.edu/maps/americas/colombia_rel_2001.jpg). This was where the Black Ghosts were based in, operating out of a small village in the jungle.

If she was right, then this was where they would go to plan their operations. De Ballesteros was resourceful and adept as a geurilla commander but she'd lived and breathed his mind for month, read enough about the man to fill a set of encyclopaedias. She could see his thoughts unfolding in his head. He would go back to La Muerte Hermosa, to plan, to recuperate, to... be human.

In the gloom of the dusty apartment, Milana smiled a perfect smile.

***

Baron Island

The Chimaean Governor's jet touched down onto a runway at Baron Island's main airport, the tyres biting into the special tarmac. The plane slowed and turned ponderously, its blunt nose navigating to the terminal's loading area. The tube-like ramp extended to the door.

The Governor's Guard were out first, dressed in sombre black suits, wearing visors and scanning the assembled media crowd. There were a few uniformed Guard, assault rifles conspicuously at the ready.

Then Lady Bryce came through the ramp and into the terminal, smiling at the media. Cameras flashed, clicked and whirred and questions were thrown at her. "I'm glad to be here for this important meeting," she said briefly, "You will have to excuse me, though. Time flies when you're the Governor."

Once she'd escaped the media and her motorcade was moving through Baron Island to the Chimaean Diplomatic Quarter, she turned to one of her aides and asked, "So when and where exactly will this take place?"

"Tommorrow at a council chamber in the Grand House building itself. It's a neutral place where both sides can feel comfortable."

"I don't think there's going to be much comfortable in all this," she muttered as the motorcade drove through the main gates of the complex and parked near the front doors of the building. As Lady Bryce got out, Sir Irving came down the steps and grasped her hand warmly.

"It's good to see you, my Lady."

Lady Bryce smiled at him. "Good to see you too," she replied as they ascended the steps. "How's the politiking?"

Sir Irving looked mildly affronted. "I must protest, I do not politik."

"So what do you do?"

"Lie. Would you care to dine with me tonight, my Lady? There are things I wish to discuss which I cannot include in the official briefing."

Lady Bryce nodded thoughtfully. "Certainly. I'd be delighted in hearing some of your lies."

Sir Irving raised his eyebrows and Lady Bryce grinned back.

***

La Muerte Hermosa, Amazonas, Colombia

The Chimaean presense in the border region of Amazona was still strong--especially so, to prevent drug-running between the borders and secure against insurgent movement between nations. There was a smaller Knootian force stationed in the region, border control being crucial to Colombian stability.

De Ballesteros and his lieutenants sat in a battered four-wheel-drive vehicle as it jolted along the rutted path cut through the jungle. Evading the Chimaean Armed Forces out here was touch and go--you had a fifty-fifty chance of getting caught and if you were unfortunate enough to be in the path of one of their patrols, then being silent on foot or loud in a vehicle was a moot point. The Chimaeans here weren't the nice smiling faces you saw on tourist advertisements.

The path eventually began to widen, the jungle cleared away more and more. Suddenly they were driving towards a basic wooden wall, more to keep out animals than offer serious defence. Lazy trails of smoke from cooking fires were trailing into the sky from beyond and the wide wooden gates were guarded by armed men, though that wasn't too unusual in the more distant parts of Colombia.

The men pulled the gates open and the vehicle entered the village. The houses were basic, wooden affairs, the cruder ones roofed over with thatch and tarpaulins. The villages were farmers who'd carved fields out of the jungle and grew grains, which was quite an accomplishment itself. They let the Black Ghosts stay out of fear.

Mostly it was a peaceful coexistance. The Black Ghosts let the villagers do what they'd been doing for centuries and the villagers let them base their operations from the village. Both sides knew it wouldn't last... but nothing did in these times.

De Ballesteros jumped down from the vehicle, followed by his lieutenants, and walked towards the guarded shed where they kept weaponry and explosives. Soon the Rathani agents would follow them here, the planning would begin... and then... war. There was much to be done.

OOC: Uhuh. Nobody has secret agents in Knootoss without clearing it with me first. Especially not nations that I have never RPed with before. Now for a flavour post. Purple text is spoken Dutch, yellow/sandybrown is spoken Spanish.

---------------------------------------
Bogotá, Colombia
Office of the Governor-General
---------------------------------------

The office of the Governor-General of Knootian Colombia was an impressive old building in downtown Bogotá which was still preserved in the old colonial style. Knootian and Colombian flags flew atop, and heavily armed Knootian soldiers constantly patrolled the perimeter.

The inside of the building was very well ventilated, making many a Colombian shiver if they entered it from the warm outside environment. Inside, two guards were also posted at every doorpost in a display of military power that would raise eyebrows with anyone used to the laxness of security back in Knootoss, and the absence of soldiers in the execution of policing duties.

The office of Metusen, the Knootian Governor-General, was decorated in a very presidential fasion, with yet more crossed flags and a wall tapestry with the circular crest of Knootian Colombia hanging behind a desk of imported oakwood.

"So what is the latest on the Rathani, Mark?", an astute elderly man with greying hair sitting behind the desk asked the young man sitting in front of him.

"Still agitating. Here are the latest reports for you from the Agency" – the young man tossed a touchpad on the desk and gave it a gentle shove towards the Governor-General. "Some of our Chimaean counterparts have indicated that they might be refocussing their attentions here. Only speculation though. Nothing substantial. A bit like paranoid CAESAR (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Combat_Application_Engineered_System_for_Advanced_Response) predictions when she is allowed to play around too much."

"Cigar?", Metusen asked whilst taking up the touchpad, pressing a combination below that started a brief decryption sequence. "Help yourself", he added without looking up, box of fat cigars standing invitingly before the AIVD agent. The smoke of the cigar soon circled up in a curly grey curtain between the two men as Metusen perused the report

"Interesting", Metusen mumbled, "I see now that heeding the first warnings of the AIVD was no luxury."

"It never is", the younger man replied. "The increased presence of troops is wise for the purpose of elections alone. Turnout may appear to be low now, but our character studies of Colombians and recent insurgent activity…"

"I know, I know…", Metusen said with a disavowing gesture of his hands, "and we’ve got the people to manage it. Of all the Knootian Defence Force, the Peace Corps is the best there is. Crack, experienced troops, fresh from the motherland. However… the drones…"

"The OLV2s (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/OLV2_Valk_Drone) have been designed with Colombia in mind."

“‘Terror of the jungle’, they call them,” Metusen affirmed. “quite deadly killers. And that s exactly why I am reluctant to authorise their use by the Knootian intelligence agencies here in Colombia… perhaps if we discussed this in the Volksraad we could extend the manda…."

“With respect that would generate far too high a profile, Governor-General”, Mark interrupted him. The agent put his cigar down, causing the smokescreen between the two men to stir. "It would compromise the nature of our operations here."

"I will give your proposal further consideration", Metusen said slowly. "Now you keep me informed of developments with those Rathani. I’d loathe for that particular Baron problem to move to our doorstep."

OOC: Okay, let's think about it for a minute... CIA, I doubt their agents are just confined to the Middle East.... I never said my agents were active.... Just that they could be there.... Don't worry, I never once planned to do operations against you, yet.

The Island of Baron - The Next Day

The Holy Emperor of Rathanan buttoned his formal white military suit. He only wore the suit when he wanted to look more impressive than a leader of another nation. Other than that, he really didn't like the Joseph Stalin look, and he didn't think many other people liked it either. He grumbled as he slid on the white coat with the Rathani Imperial seal on the right chest pocket. As he placed his visor hat on his head, there was a knock at the door.

"Come." The Holy Emperor said, turning to face the door.

An Inquisition bodygaurd entered the room and saluted the Emperor. "Your car is ready, Holy Emperor... Whenever you're ready." The bodygaurd said.

Lucius looked out a window and saw numerous members of the Inquisition armed with automatic rifles and wearing kevlar helmets and vests. "Yeesh, Mathias, you might as well have called the whole Imperial Army to protect me..." He muttered as he walked towards the door with his bodygaurd.

"Normal precautions, Holy Emperor... You never know." The bodygaurd said, as 3 other bodygaurds joined him to flank the Holy Emperor.

"Where's Ezra? I asked her to type my talking points for me." The Holy Emperor growled.

"I don't know, Holy Emperor, she was working on it in her room." The bodygaurd said as they climed into the elevator.

When they reached the lobby, the doors slid open and they were met, to her shock, by Ezra, who nearly spilled the coffee she was getting all over her blouse.

"There you are, do you have the talking points?" The Holy Emperor asked as they got off the elevator.

"Y-y-y-yes, I do." She stammered. "I just printed them off and I was getting some coffee.... I woke up at the crack of dawn to get started on them." He stated, fumbling through her briefcase and taking out a packet of papers. "Here you go!" She said, handing it to the Holy Emperor.

"Good job, take the rest of the day off, Ezra." The Holy Emperor said as he flipped through the pages. "I'll have someone call your cellphone when you need to report back to the hotel." He added.

"Yes, of course..... Thank you Holy Emperor." She responded as she left.

After about ten more minutes of chaotic last minute changes, the Holy Emperor and his staff walked out to the car, greeted by the flashes of cameras and the endless questions from the press. The armed gaurds quickly made a path through the press though, and they were soon situated in the car.

La Muerte Hermosa, Amazonas, Colombia

Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodecia finally arrived at the gates of the village where the Black Ghosts were staying.

"About time, they didn't give us much in the way of directions..." Benodecia said. "Good thing we didn't have any Chimaean problems." He added.

"Well, you're the one who gave him that sorry excuse of a map and just told him to mark a dot for us... No record of Chimaean patrols, nothing." Capitan Chavez snapped back. "But we're here now, let's get moving..." He added, picking up his suitcase.

The two agents got through the Black Ghost's security rather quickly and soon met with the senior members again, only in a less descrite way...

Capitan Benodecia slammed his suitcase down on the table they were meeting at, and calmly opened it up. Inside, there were two Rathani made pistols, a pill bottle that wasn't marked and seemed almost empty, a laptop, and a manilla folder that was idley placed on top of the laptop.

"Here." The Capitan said in the most intimidating, yet civil, voice he could use. "These are what Sargent Benodecia and I have thought of since we last met... We'll give you the night to talk about them, we'll talk tomorrow..." He added, giving the folder to De Ballesteros.

When De Ballesteros tried to take the folder from Chavez, Chavez held onto the folder tightly.

"But first, De Ballesteros, we need your commitment.... You must be willing to go all the way with this.... That means you aren't going to brush us aside and we aren't your underlings.... Keep in mind, we're just as willing to let Chimaea hunt you all down." Chavez said, glaring slightly at De Ballesteros.

De Ballesteros nodded at him. "You have a deal, capitan." returning the glare slightly as Chavez let go of the folder... Objective C was completed.

Hevlimar City, Ashlavar

President Fulda eyed his Secretary of State, Richard Zarnesky, for a minute.

"Richard, you know we can't do this..." He said frankly. "Look outside this window, the lazy vermin that crowd our streets are becoming more and more daring.... Hell, an old lady can't go to the market anymore without getting mugged 50 times before she gets there.... Then, of course, she has no money to buy what she needs and-"

"Mr. President, I'm going to be frank... This whole situation with Rathanan and Chimaea is going to cause problems with our REAL constitutency... Which isn't lazy vermin and those damn old ladies.... We have to get involved." Richard inturrupted.

"Richard, listen to what I say.... I think I went far enough to offer to medeate their stupid and pointless talks." The President responded getting out of his chair. "Ashlavar has survived for ages off our forgein policy maxim: Free trade with all...."

"Alliances with none, yeah, yeah, I know." Richard inturrupted again. "My point is that, yes, we're the Conservative Libertarian party, yes, this could get us into trouble, but think of it this way..... What good are trade contracts if a nation is blown to smithereens!" He added.

President Fulda grumbled as he put a cigar in his mouth and lit it. ((That's right, the cigar chomping Republican... =P)) "What exactly are you proposing, Richard?" He growled as he took a drag on his cigar. "You want me to deal an executive order to break up Baron's two little children that got into a bit of a fist fight? All that'll do is give the damn Progressive Party a damn clear run to my office." He added as he sat back down and leaned back in his chair.

"Well, I don't call leveling St. Cypher City just a little fist fight, but sort of, yes. Richard answered. Although I definately don't mean for it to give the Progresive Party a home stretch run the Presidental manor." He added in a reassuring tone. "Remember, if you go down I go down.... Why the hell would I work against you?" He added.

"Okay, you go ahead and make your proposal into a bill... But I'm telling you now, congress will never go for it..." The President said. "The Progressives will love it, but we're going to get a whole lot of congressmen angry at us." He added "If this comes back to bite us in the ass, your getting your ass kicked off my ticket.... You understand?" The President said, pointing his finger at Richard Donald Trump style.

"Yes sir, I do understand.... I'm also telling you, it WON'T bite us in the ass." Richard stated. "Infact, you'll thank me later." He added.

As Richard left, President Fulda burried his face into his hands. "Why the hell did I appoint a moderate to a high level diplomatic position?" He grumbled. "Now I have to deal with Lady Grand Crusade and Boy Holy Vengence.... To be honest, I hate 'em both." He added as he puffed on his cigar and looked through some papers. I should syndicate that if I ever get voted out of office.... That'd make a great cartoon... He thought to himself as he signed a piece of legislation.

Bogota, Colombia

The stage had been erected in the middle of a newly-built sports stadium in the outskirts of Bogota--the stands were filled to capacity in the warm night. Whilst Bogota was controlled by both Knootoss and Chimaea, it had become a focal point for the election run-up. The spotlights illuminating the stage finally caught a figure, dressed in a grey suit, walk from behind the stage to the front, where a lecturn with a microphone had been positioned.

The crowd erupted into cheers and began chanting "Viva Caton!". The figure held up both arms and the cheering reached almost fever pitch and he grinned and waited, poised at the lecturn, for the noise to die down.

"People of Chimaean Colombia! My people! I bring you the news: our beginning is in sight!" The man grinned as the cheering resumed for a while. "We have all worked long and hard for this coming day when finally, we will take control of our destiny with an open heart and a promising future. From the depths of civil war, our nation has emerged into the light of a beautiful new start, a second chance to mould freedom and prosperity."

He paused impressively. "I have worked for you tirelessly since FARC was dissolved. To get this far is truly a miracle; however there is much to be done. When you go to the polls soon and vote, know that whoever you chose, you're chosing freedom and human rights. Select me as your leader and I shall willingly serve you as we craft our new future together! For Liberty, for prosperity, for Colombia!"

Amidst storms of cheering, Administrator Gregorio outlined his economic and political plans, stressing the importance of civil rights, education and the expansion of Chimaean Colombia's market internationally. He spoke movingly about the struggles he'd wittnessed, the birthing pains of a new order in Colombia--he thanked the Chimaean presense for keeping peace and spoke glowingly of the fledgling armed forces of Chimaean Colombia. He held the crowd enthralled, like a rock star, and pointed to the better world they'd created whilst promising of even better things to come.

That night he wove magic around a people who'd been repressed by violence and poverty. It wasn't simply charisma or a political ability to play crowds--the Administrator really believed his words and had the force of personality to carry everyone else in that belief. He was a fiery man in a modest grey suit but for that night he was also a leader, a passionate believer out to right the wrongs of history.

***

Baron Island

Even Sir Irving, who'd seen a lot of beautiful women in his time, had to admit that Lady Bryce looked stunning when she came out of her personal suite, smiling shyly at him. It was one of her popular idiosyncrancies that she spent most of her time in very casual clothing--she'd caused a bit of an uproar when she held an impromptu press meeting in jeans, t-shirt and dark jacket. She tended to have an 'average' image that made people underestimate her.

When she couldn't get out of it, though, she let the small army of stylists and advisers do their job. She was wearing a long, flowing white dress and her hair was lose down her back in a way Sir Irving was entirely deceptive without being too deceptive--the impression you got was: here is expensively treated and styled hair, but it's modest. Her face had the lightest brushing of makeup which accentuated her natural beauty. Like most Chimaean women she was tall and her slight, wiry frame contrived to look graceful instead of tense.

Conscious he was staring, he coughed and returned her smile. "Very charming, my Lady."

"And bloody uncomfortable, too. Do you have any idea how hard it is to not trip over this damned dress? It'd be funny to have a wardrobe malfunction in front of the international media... You'd think for the amount they payed for this thing..." the tones were irritable but she looked pleased at the effect she was having anyway.

"Indeed, yes, well... A trial to be borne with dignity. You're prepared for this?"

Lady Bryce waved a hand dismissively. "I've done this stuff more times than you've had warm dinners. Have you ever met Galadriel, before she got voted out? Made me feel like the creature from the pit standing next to her. Is everything ready?"

"Yes, my Lady. How're you feeling?"

Lady Bryce shrugged as they fell into step, walking towards the double doors. "Like a perfumed machine of the state."

Sir Irving chuckled. "Perfect."

***

The Council room that was to be the meeting place was one of many in Baron, built for the multitude of councils, small and large, which were part of the larger organisations. The usual polished wooden table had been cleared away and two ornate chairs were placed in the middle of the room, with a small, low-set table between them. The security for the meeting had been provided by a neutral third party. A press-meeting room had also been provided close by with two lecturns, side-by-side, with the flag of each nation behind them.

At exactly the same time, the doors on either side of the room opened and the two leaders walked in...

----------

OOC: i'll continue the Colombian storyline tomorrow, including the plan. Feel free to write the Holy Emperor's first impressions and all that.

The Island of Baron

The Holy Emperor removed his hat and ran a comb through his geled back brown hair and looked around the room for a minute before laying eyes on his adversary.

So this is her, hm? What is she trying to woo me now? He thought to himself. Doubtful, she is my enemy and I hope she expects to be treated as such... He continued to think as he walked towards his seat.

After both leaders were sitting and settled, Lucius began to take out offical documents in a very professional way. To a politically trained woman like Lady Bryce, it would be obvious that he was trying to appear more professional and more powerful than she.

"Regretful," He said in a stern tone. "That we have to be here today for the reasons we are, don't you think?" Lucius eyed Lady Bryce for a minute. "All those deaths and all this politics over me insuring the protection of my people.." He added. "I think that the first issue we must cover is the one that weighs most heavily on our minds..... The POW issue." He stated. "I have wrote a plan, which I believe is to the mutual benefit for both of our nations, to take care of this.... Take a minute to read it and then we'll talk." He added as he passed Lady Bryce a sheet...... ((handing it off to you))

St. Alexander City - Inquisition Headquarters

High Inquisitior Mathias Olivegrove sat at his desk reviewing papers when there was a knock at his door.

"Come." The High Inquisitior said as he signed a sheet.

The door opened and a capitan entered, snapped into attention, and saluted the High Inquisitor.

"Sorry to bother you, High Inquisitor, but Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodecia have made contact." The officer said. "Objectives A through C have been completed." He added.

"Good, thank you for that bit of information, you're dismissed." Mathias said as he nodded at the officer.

"Yes, High Inquisitor." The officer added as he saluted again and walked out of the door.

After the officer left, Mathias reached into his desk and pulled out a folder. "Well now, Chavez and Benodecia.... Let's see if your exemplary marks in training can be matched on the field." He said as he smirked.

La Muerte Hermosa, Amazonas, Colombia

De Ballesteros spread out a map of Colombia on the rough wooden table. Night had fallen on the village, and dotted around the perimeter fence were flicking torches. The few generators were in service for the main wooden buildings, one of which de Ballesteros, his lieutenants and the Rathani agents had taken to discuss their plans. There were two bare bulbs illuminating the interior of the building and moths were repeatedly banging against the hot glass.

The geurilla leader pointed out the region of Armonía, in South-West Chimaean Colombia. "This is where we strike," he said to them. "The Demócrata Liberal's heartland. Peace, prosperity and freedom! The cry of Administrator Gregorio. It is his home-state and the last point of his political tour--last because he is sure of winning the regional seats. The rally there will be huge and that is where he will be on Election night, toasting his victory with Chimaean champagne."

He looked around the table. "This is where we must strike for maximum impact. It will be heavily guarded... but we know something they think we don't. It turns out that one of the Administrator's staff has family in Amazonas... A wife and two daughters. Lieutenant Valesco here... made an example out of one of them. We have them here in the village under protective custody, and the man in question is under our control."

The men looked at Valesco de Torrillas, who grinned horribly at them and started picking his teeth with the point of a dagger. Even de Ballesteros couldn't suppress a shudder of disgust.

"Anyway... we know where the Chimaeans have built a bunker to house the Administrator in case of attack. The bunker is well-guarded, too well-guarded for us to infiltrate it; however... there is only one road to it through the jungle. It's been built with unusual haste and they haven't created alternative routes in. We believe it's temporary, just for this election. The Administrator's convoy will be heavily armed but lightly armoured, built for speed. It is the one weak link in his security. Dom?"

Domingo Montavez nodded. "We have built up quite an arsenal and lost several men doing it. The Chimaeans and Knootians have really clamped down on gun smuggling after the Brigade was brought down. We have a few mines and three rocket-propelled grenade launchers, with ammo. These will be our main forms of attack. The convoy is small: an armoured four-wheel drive vehicle, two humvees and an APC. The APC will be at the rear, the four-wheel drive between the humvees.

"We're not taking chances. One of us waits further down the track than the others. He detonates the landmines under the APC. Simultaeneously, we fire at the lead humvee with RPGs. Once that's blown the other vehicles will have to stop--and we will fire at the four-wheel drive vehicle and then at the other humvee. Once all the vehicles are destroyed, we have to get out of there quickly as CAF will be swarming all over it in a matter of minutes."

De Ballesteros nodded and looked at the Rathani agents. "Well, gentlemen, what do you think?"

***

Baron Island

The first reaction, well-disguised, that Lady Bryce had upon entering the room and seeing her Rathani counterpart was shock. In her late-twenties she was the youngest Governor in Chimaean history and she'd only made it to her position through a time of emergency. Holy Emperor Calidan was eighteen, she'd been briefed--but it was still a shock to see someone quite so young as a head of state.

She'd been brought up all her life, pretty much, to be Governor. She'd been adopted by General Garrison and had enlisted as a Marine at 16, being educated and trained in politics, international relations and law. She'd fired her first weapons at 17, in anger at 20--her first kill had been 22 when she'd gone against General Garrison's wishes and enlisted for active service, managing to eventually enter Marine Recon. As she looked at the young Emperor she wondered if he'd lost his childhood to the state too. Brought up in a royal family for the purposes of taking power. An old man looking out of a boy's eyes.

But now he was her enemy.

She gracefully slid into the chair opposite him and watched him officiously sort pieces of paper out on the small table between them. Her face was carefully composed into a police smile as he started talking. She listened to his words and to the things he didn't say, his body language and face. He was good, no doubt about that. The profilers were spot on that whatever his life had been, he was now a political animal.

She took the proferred papers without taking her eyes off his and let her smile become a little bigger. "It is indeed sad that we have to meet in these circumstances... all those deaths, as you say, and all this politiking to insure the safety of Baron..."

She looked through the proposal, not letting her smile slip. The game was on.

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

OOC: what's the proposal?

((Yeah, I was going to post that, but I never got around to it.))

Island of Baron

A Mutually Beneficial Plan to Exchange POWs

1: Our POW camps have yet to report a single death due to your increased funding into Baron aid... Hidden government elements and camp rosters and roll calls support these reports.

2: We would like the same assurances from you, your original threats go both ways.

3: We are holding a number of Chimaean civilians that were working for Baron Aid during the war, we shall release them when you release our civilians... Keep in mind, these civilians aren't being kept in POW camps, as they aren't soldiers. We have put them under house arrest in a vacant apartment complex in an undisclosed location.

4: The method of exchange was outlined in the House of Baron, and both sides have seen it as agreeable. To restate the idea, we plan to use medical ships and international waters to make the exchange.

5: Please feel free to bring up and concerns about this list during the meetings.

Author: Minister of Diplomacy Andreas Calvictis

Approved by: Holy Emperor of Rathanan, Lucius Calidan; Grand Admiral of the Holy Imperial Navy, Wolfgang Sesiks; and Major General Andrew Maridius, head of the POW department.

The Holy Emperor eyed Lady Bryce as she looked over the proposal. "Obviously I mean to stay true to number five...... Do you have any questions or concerns miss Bryce?" He asked with a fake smile.

La Muerte Hermosa, Amazonas, Colombia

Capitan Chavez eyed De Ballesteros for a moment before speaking. "A good idea in theory, Mr. De Ballesteros, and I hate to be the harbringer of badnews, but consider it this way...." He finally said. "You realize that once this attack takes place, the CAF will most likely redouble their efforts to try and find you..." He remarked. "I think that you should try and figure out a very good escape plan and an even better plan to stay hidden...." He added. "Remember, we're not dealing with idiots here, gentlemen.... The CAF has rather clever elements working for them." He stated. "But OTHER than that, your attack plan is a sound one.... It's just that we in the Rathani Inquisition prefer a better get away plan than 'run like hell'." He concluded as Sargent Benodecia nodded in agreement.

Hevlimar City - The Congressional Chamber

The floor of the Ashlan Congress was packed for the recently proposed bill that was hotly out of character for the Federal Republic of Ashlavar....

"The gentleman from the state of Indlevar is recognized." He Congressional President said.

"Mr. President, fellow Congressmen and women.... I rise today against this bill." The congressman said. "This action is not nessisary, especally when we have enough problems to solve here at home! We don't need to help solve Rathanan and Chimaea's problems!" He continued. "Thank you, and I yield the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

"The Lady from the state of New Hope is recognized." The president said.

"Mr. President, I applaud this bill and hope to see it expanded.... For too long has our great nation hid behind walls... It is time to take our place in the global scene!" She said. "Thank you, and I yield the balance of my time to the chair." She concluded.

"The Gentleman from the state of Indlevar* is recognized." The president said.

"I rise in favor of this bill, Mr. President.... Our businesses have many important contracts with both Chimaean and Rathanan.... The President's plan makes sence! We aren't dragging our nation into the global scene and we're definately not playing world police! We must secure our interests by insuring that Rathanan and Chimaea do not go to war again!" He stated. "Thank you and I yield the balance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

The hotly contested debate continued for hours, with congressmen and women from all five states splitting up and argueing over this issue until eventually the Majority Leader stood up.

"The gentleman from the state of North Hinterland is now recognized." The president said.

"Mr. President, I do believe that we have heard the debate and we all know where we stand." The Majority leader said frankly. "Therefore I make the motion that we have a roll call vote with ajournment of congress until 9:00 AM tomorrow immediately proceeding." He added.

"Is there objection?" The President asked. "Without objection.... The clerk will call the roll." He stated after no one made a move to object...

1 hour later

The roll was called and the clerk gave the president the final results of the vote.

"The motion is agreed to with a final vote of 176 to 124, Congress is now ajourned until 9:00 AM tomorrow." The President said as he hit his hammer on his wooden block.

*((There are about 60 congresspersons for each of the 5 states in the Ashlan congress, which is only one house, for a total of 300 congresspersons.))

The Presidental Mannor- Hevlimar City

The Secretary of State Richard Zarnesky walked into the President's office and threw down a printed off sheet of paper with the final verdict on the bill.

"See? I told you!" He remarked. "Congress passed it with a pretty good margin of victory." He added.

The President eyed his Secretary of State for a minute before speaking. "Well, I'll admit that I'm shocked that it passed..." The President said finally. "But it won't mean crap unless it works...." He added as he put a cigar in his mouth and lit it. "I assure you, I'll be properly estatic if it works.... There's nothing better than taking our interests while appearing to actually care about what they do to each other..." He remarked as he took a drag on his cigar. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do...." He said as he shooed his Secretary of State out.

((Yeah, I think I'm going to make Ashlavar come in to more or less try and secretively grab the pots of gold while Rathanan and Chimaea are focusing on each other so contently...))

Baron Island

Lady Bryce glanced through each of the points then nodded thoughtfully. Miss Bryce, she noticed. Well two can play at that game. "As for point one, I can guarantee you that none of the POWs in our custody have been harmed in any way. We are maintaining their health, safety and security as per the Geneva Conventions, you have nothing to worry about there. If you need independant confirmation, ask the Chimaean branch of the Red Cross.

"With regards to point two, taking Baron Aide workers prisoner is highly illegal under the treaties and charter of the Grand House of Baron and various international laws. Baron Aide is an independant humanitarian organisation which does not carry arms and wear clearly marked neutral uniforms. Holding them because of their nationality is pointless and just results in a degradation of the services that Baron Aide can provide. Keeping them in unlawful custody won't win you any favours in the eyes of the intra-regional and international community--more importantly, Baron Aid may curtail their humanitarian operations within Rathanan if they deem it too dangerous.

"The civilians in our custody are unlawful combatants who attempted to interfere violently with CAF operations. Some were caught killing Rathani civilians who they percieved as collaborators. Whilst we are willing to be lenient, perhaps, on those who attacked our military... they were, after all, acting under your general orders, Mr. Calidan... there are certain classes of unlawful combatants and certain acts which we would find it difficult to dismiss. We are, after all, willing to try any crimes commited by our own forces.

"I have no objections to point four, of course, and point five goes without saying."

***

De Ballesteros considered the Rathani agent's words. "It is fairly heavy jungle in those parts.... but you're right. The CAF are surprisingly... adept at jungle warfare and employ scanning equipment. Valesco?"

The man stopped picking at his teeth to leer at the Rathani agents. It wasn't a leer particularly based on anything, but leered for the sake of leering. "What's the matter, seňor? Don't want a bullet where the sun don't--" he caught de Ballesteros' glare and shrugged. "All right, all right. We have a five-to-ten minute window until CAF arrives in numbers... you can depend on them to have recon units somewhere in the vicinity in five minutes. In that five minutes we can either run... or hide in the last place they'd look for us: in the Administrator's own bunker."

He looked with satisfaction at the surprised looks of the others, and held up a hand to forestall any questions. "It's simple. We've captured a Chimaean four-wheel-drive vehicle and fixed it up so that, in the dark of the night, it will pass for the Administrator's vehicle. We will destroy the convoy but hopefully we can steal the plates and sensors on the real vehicle and put them on in the fake one--very bloody quickly. Then we'll barrel through the night as if we're running away from a major firefight and come flying out of the darkness. We're going to be in the uniforms of the Colombian Army--the Administrator's bodyguards wear them--and one of us... will be the Administrator. Wearing a helmet and kevlar vest. And surrounded by bodyguards.

"Then we go into the safe room and wait there for five minutes. Then we head out again as if we're ordered to leave by CAF's high command. Ok ok, stop looking at me like that... it's the only chance we have of surviving. The bunker is guarded by CAF soldiers, not Colombian soldiers, which works to our advantage and our disadvantage... because the CAF lot are trained to think on their feet. If they notice anything amiss, we're dead men. But hopefully, there'll be so much chaos that we can pull this off. From the jungle we make it to a safe place--" he marked a spot on the map, "--here."

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

OOC: might as well use the bunker for a famous last stand.

Baron Island

Lucius couldn't help but chuckle a bit at Lady Bryce's responce before he leaned over and stared her directly in the eyes. "I find it a bit odd that you keep trying my patience, since I am, afterall, such an unstable ruler." He remarked quietly, glaring somewhat. "The simple fact of the matter is, Chimaean Baron Aide members were cought red-handed trying to turn the people of St. Cypher against their own people and myself.... That, Lady Bryce, is not going to be taken lightly... Had they been Rathani citizens, they would have been hung in the town square of St. Cypher, or what remains of it, anyway..." He added frankly. "But since I am not the madman that you and your government portrays me to be, I spared them all and gave them quite comfortable accomodations." He stated. "Therefore, my offer is now going to stand as this.... Put my citizens on trial, and I'll put YOUR citizens on trial.... Let my citizens go, and I'll let your citizens go..." He said in a low tone. "We have no problems with Baron Aide, I think that was made painstakingly obvious by the Rathani citizens who work for it... What we do have a problem with, however, is YOUR citizens coming in under the GUISE of Baron Aide to spout your propoganda... We especally find their presence odd because I had issued an Imperial Edict the moment your planes began this war that frankly stated that Chimaean peoples are not to be admited to Rathanan..." He remarked as he gave Lady Bryce a menacing smile.

***

Capitan Chavez eyed Valesco with disgust before speaking. "Usually I would like such things mentioned the formal briefing.... But we'll take what we can get..." He said after a pause. "He DOES have a well formalized plan.... Though it does seem like something out of a fiction book..." He added. "Very well, we agree..." He stated with a less than enthusiastic tone.

Baron Island

Lady Bryce shrugged, keeping her expression neutral. "I find it difficult to believe that Baron Aid workers of any nationality would be spying in any manner. Baron Aid conducts thorough checks on all workers and they are all professional and remain neutral. Accusing Baron Aid of spying is something you'll have to take up with the Secretary of Aid or the Secretary General.

"As for Chimaeans being in Rathanan, we issued a travel advisory and instructed all Chimaeans in Rathanan who were there in any official capacity to leave at once. All transport we had control over were frozen before hostilities commenced. I doubt that there were many, if any, Chimaeans left in Rathanan prior to invasion and certainly none in any official capacity. I don't know who you have in custody, but they're nothing to do with Chimaean Intelligence. We have strict laws against corrupting the integrity of organisations such as Baron Aid and the Red Cross. If, and it's a big if, there are Baron Aid workers of Chimaean origin in your custody, then it's highly doubtful they would be working against the Rathanan State.

"We are willing to release some of the civilians with the POWs, depending on the crimes committed. However, it's certainly stretching the law to do so... the rape and murder of Private Brídget O'Hearn, for example, will be tried in a Chimaean criminal court." Lady Bryce considered for a while, the nodded thoughtfully. "All right. We will release civilians who have fought in a 'military' way against CAF combat personnel along with the POWs. We will also release into your custody any civilians who have committed crimes against other Rathanan civilians--I certainly don't believe they'd recieve a fair trial since they can claim the victims were collaborators," she added frankly, "but I'm willing to stretch a point in the interests of diplomacy. However, civilians who're accused of criminal acts such as the one I've mentioned will be tried in a Chimaean court."

***

La Muerte Hermosa, Amazonas, Colombia

After the clutter of the briefing had been cleared away and the Rathani agents and his lieutenants had headed off to get some sleep, de Ballesteros sat alone at the table, finishing off a small amount of brandy from a hip-flask. The planning was pretty much completed, now all there was left to do was wait. His face twisted as he thought about Administrator Gregorio.

"Bastard of Chimaea!" he muttered as he swigged from the brandy. The man was the king of collaborators. Colombia had been the way de Ballesteros had wanted it before the Chimaea-Knootian intervention. The money was flowing in, he was respected and feared, he lived in the lap of luxury and had the pick of women... and now he was reduced to living like a dog in a stinking village in the middle of the jungle.

Well, they'd pay. How they'd pay.

***

Marko switched to heat-vision and zoomed in on the red, yellow and orange figure of de Ballesteros, sitting at the table. His finger stroked the trigger of the CR-68 sniper rifle. With one little squeeze, the bullet would leave the long barrel and smash its way through the flimsy wooden wall. The heat-relief of de Ballesteros would jerk violently and fall lifelessly to the floor.

He tapped the trigger guard thoughtfully and lowered the weapon. It was a classic shot from his vantage point near the canopy of the jungle but he knew his mission was to protect the packages until zero-time. So far he'd only had to kill two bandits who were trying to steal one of the group's vehicles. He'd done it at knife-point, quickly and noiselessly, taking care not to leave a trail or any possible indication of anything amiss.

Ah well. Soon enough.

He opened his palm-top computer, logged onto the temporary private network the team had set up and sent the day's report to Milana whilst his partner, DeGraaf, kept watch. Milana sent back a reply, which he smiled at before settling back into the branches. There'd be fun and explosions soon enough.

The Grand Island of Baron

The Holy Emperor eyed Lady Bryce with pure awe on his face. "Rape and murder?" The Holy Emperor asked in a shocked tone. "Lady Bryce, you have my full and utter premission to do whatever you want to do to the person who does such a thing..... Sex crimes as well as murder are both punished by death in Rathanan, no matter who or what the act is against." He said, his face red with anger. "In fact, I would like you to find the person who did such a thing and tranfer him back to me..... He will be delt with according to Rathanan law since the crime took place IN Rathanan." He added. "This private shall have justice... However, we'd like to launch our own investigation, your word is hardly credible to the nation of Rathanan." He stated as he calmed down a bit. "I can even offer to send some of my officals to work with your officals on the case if you wish.... The Rathani lawbooks take such crimes VERY seriously." He mentioned. "Keep in mind, this isn't just in this case either, chances are if it's illegal in your country, it's twice as illegal in mine.... If you want to deal with them, fine.... Otherwise, I'll take care of them, either way.... Justice will be done." He remarked.

"As for the release of our other civilians, I'm glad we've finally come to terms on this issue.... I shall give the order that your civilians are to be tranfered with your soldiers...." The Holy Emperor said. "I trust I have the same assurances from you?" He questioned with a slight tone of skepticism.

La Muerte Hermosa, Amazonas, Colombia

Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodecia opened up two metallic suitcases in their quarters.

"ISA-88 pistol with extra clips?" Chavez asked.

"Check." Benodecia responded.

"Night vision goggles?" Chavez asked.

"Check."

"Kevlar?" Chavez asked again

"Check." Benodecia said.

Chavez looked up before speaking again. "The medicine?" He asked looking straight at Benodecia.

Benodecia took out two unmarked pill bottles from the bottom of the suitcase. "Check." He said at last.

"Good. Then we're set. Try to get some sleep Sargent." Chavez said. "Remember to say your prayers." He added slowly.

"Yes sir." Benodecia responded with a nod.

Armonía, South-West Chimaean Colombia

The horrible ice cream truck was already going its rounds, incongruously playing 'Greensleeves' in the cool Colombian dawn.

Administrator Caton Gregoria opened one sleep-gummed eye and stared at the alarm clock blankly. It was five in the morning; he wasn't due to wake until seven. He shut his eye then winced as the sleep got into his eyeball, causing it to water. He blinked a few times and sighed softly.

The comfortable warmth of his wife's arm and body, pressed sweetly against him, permeated his senses and he smiled in contentment. This moment was free of his usual worries about his country, his security, the elections. He could close his eyes and pretend that his world was just this bed and his wife sleeping beside him. He dozed off again and dreamed of the glint of knives in darkness.

***

His eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp. He was bathed in sweat and shaking slightly. His wife's warm, dark hazel eyes were looking down at him anxiously, her lips pressed together in concern. He took a moment to admire her features before hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

"You were having a nightmare..." his wife said softly, handing him a glass of water.

He nodded, sipping the water. "It must be the stress."

She sighed. "I wish these elections were over and done with... even at the worst of times, nothing effected you this badly. What did you dream?"

He propped himself up against the head of the old four-poster and closed his eyes for a moment. "Knives. Men with knives, faces twisted in hate."

She shuddered. "A memory...?"

"Who knows, Llarina," he replied wearily. "Anything before my twelth birthday is hazy." Caton had grown up in Armonía but his memory of his childhood was almost gone. He'd been brought up by a distant Aunt in Bogota and had only returned to Armonía after the Chimaean-Knootian intervention. The small town he'd been born in was long gone, lost to war and the old migration to the cities. Records had been lost and his Aunt had passed away without telling him where his family was, if he had any.

Llarina Gregoria got up onto her knees on the bed and moved to sit on his lap, facing him. She put her arms around his shoulders and held him close. "I know, love. It's ok. Perhaps it's just a dream."

Caton hugged back, his arms encircling her waist. "What isn't a dream is that I'm covered in sweat and probably stink."

Llarina laughed. "I like the way you stink, stupid."

They broke their embrace and Llarina sat back a little to regard him. He looked up into her eyes and saw the familiar fire in them, the gentle quirk of the lips. He reached out and gently pulled the straps of her nightdress from her shoulders.

"I love you." he told her.

"I love you too."

***

Caton sprayed the colonge across his throat and winced slightly, the liquid burning his shaving-irritated skin. He looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror--dark grey suit, laid-back tie, hair a bit longer than was usual. He looked dignified and powerful. A visionary? No... but someone who carried a map for the future, at least.

He stepped away and out of the bathroom in satisfaction. His wide was checking her own reflection in the bedroom mirror; she was wearing a long dress that curved and clung in all the appropriate places without being immodest. She caught sight of him and smiled. "Does my bum look big in this?"

"I was about to ask you the same question, dearest." Caton absent-mindedly caught the cushion thrown at him and grinned. "You look stunning. If you weren't my wife I'd have to ask you out."

"Ask me out anyway, you lecherous old man! What's on the schedule today?"

Caton thought for a moment. "Visiting a hospital this morning, a school in the afternoon, reviewing security with General Worset in the evening, an election rally at night. Ends at about eight. How about you?"

"I'm going to be speaking at the Gay and Lesbian Rights Movement's breakfast in an hour. I didn't realise you had official breakfasts as well as dinners."

"Official everything, these days."

"Hah, right... and then I'm inspecting a women's education centre in the afternoon. Is that one of Lady Bryce's initiatives?"

Caton rolled his eyes theatrically. "Yes. She sends me a very thick bunch of documents relating to the establishment of gender equity and equality in Colombia. It's even got step-by-step instructions. Who writes this stuff? I've implemented as much as I can and carefully disregarded the rest... I don't think she quite realises that cultural change is best dealt with without too much shock."

"Well, perhaps shock is what's needed? These are the days of revolution, right?"

"Yes, right, fine... But these are also the days of careful budgeting. Throwing money around doesn't help people much."

Llarina reached out and adjusted his collar, brushing off an invisible speck of dust from his lapel. "So when do I get to meet Lady Bryce?"

"She actually does want to visit after the elections... but I never told you that. She's busy dealing with the aftermath to the Rathanan thing."

"And you'll take me out afterwards?"

"After the elections?" Caton asked, surprised.

"After you're done with your rally, Mr. Administrator."

Caton leaned forwards and kissed her cheek. "Sure will, my dove. Where do you want to go? There's a new restaurant opened in the old Justicia building. Greek, I think."

"Sounds good, baby. Pick me up from here, I'll be waiting!"

Caton smiled, picked up his briefcase and with a final goodbye to his wife, walked out into the morning sunshine and his waiting car.

***

Armonía, A Field Outside the City

The stage being constructed was massive, with huge screens which could broadcast images of the speaker from the cameras set up around the base. Large floodlights surrounded an immense area, designed to cater for the estimated 15-20 thousand people attending the rally. Colombian workers scurried around busily, setting up the stage and the electronics to be ready that night.

Around the field patrolled Colombian Army troops, with the occassional Chimaean soldiers interspersed with them. Chimaean and Colombian police officers were also busy planning security and crowd-control with Army officers.

It was to be one of the biggest and final rallies before the election. They were constructing a stage but in a bigger way, they were creating the framework for their dreams to come alive, one final time before the first democratic election and the long road ahead.

***

Baron Island

Lady Bryce was intrigued and impressed. She'd done extensive reading and study of Rathanan at university level as well as recently, and was fascinated by the dichotomy that the Emperor presented; it was a dichotomy echoed by Rathanan itself. The Holy Empire was a land ruled by a religious state which cracked down on any opposition to its views and politics; however, unlike most fundamentalist religious states, there was a strong humanist movement. It was evident here: she'd watched Rathanan news broadcast which labelled Chimaea as a heathen state and pointed to the recent conflict as a holy war, a sentiment expoused by the young Emperor sitting before her--yet his reaction and opinion of sex crimes was strongly humanist. Compared to religious regimes like Iesus Christi, for example, Rathanan was moderate and modernist in certain policies whilst almost medieval in others.

What would you call that, she wondered, modernist fundamentalism? A country divided by almost extreme religious belief and moderate realism phillosophy. Hanging and capital punishment co-existing with modern justice discourse. It was a two-sided enigma, an old world meeting a new one.

Lady Bryce nodded sadly. "War brings out the worst in everyone. Put a bunch of frightened civilians or irregulars into a combat situation and the result is uncontrolled brutality. I'm sure you're familiar with military theory? One reason for intense military training is to create soldiers who, when confronted with extreme situations, fall back on training instead of pure panic or survival instinct. Take away the restraints of civilisation and the human turns into the animal. Private O'Hearn was a logistical solider who drove supply trucks. She was waiting for a truck to be refuelled and wandered off the guarded perimeter for a reason we cannot and probably will never be able to ascertain. She was kidnapped by three men, though only two participated in the crime itself. We tracked down all three men; one had died in a firefight, the other two were in a refugee camp when the MPs found them."

She ran a hand absent-mindedly through her hair. "There are complaints on both sides. If you investigate the complaints against our troops we will find and extradite any criminals to your nation on the condition that as Chimaean citizens, they do not get a death penalty. If the victim or their representatives wish it, we will try them in our court system.

Your officials are welcome to work on these cases and review the evidence, but sending them to Rathanan for punishment or trial is a grey area... whilst they were, indeed, in Rathanan when the crimes were committed, they were under Chimaean jurisdiction according to international law. The other consideration is whether the victims or their families want them to be tried in Chimaea or Rathanan; however, we can work this out on an individual, case-by-case basis."

Lady Bryce smiled slightly. "I give you my personal assurances that we will capitulate on the exchange of prisoners."

Baron Island

The Holy Emperor thought for a minute. "I'm not really out for blood against your soldiers.... I'll let you decide on the war crime issues on either side... I have enough on my hands with dealing with the Ashlan company who's rebuliding St. Cypher City." He said at last. "To clarify, I'll send some of my top investigators to Chimaea to help review the cases and look over the evidence.... Obviouslym I want to make sure that the Rathani citizens in question aren't charged in a forgein country for a crime they didn't commit." He remarked.

"Now, with these issues out of the way, I would like to inform you that the small group of Inquisiton I have working on the Ambassador Robertson issue have finally uncovered something of interest." The Holy Emperor stated. "I know it's been a long time, but with the war we've had our hands full." He said as he took out a folder and slid it across the table to Lady Bryce.

Inside the folder there were numerous pictures of charred human bones and a few papers written in Latin with a large, red "Top Secret" stap on the upper left hand corner.

"Would you happen to have anything my agents could use to check the DNA to see if it's him?" The Holy Emperor asked. "Obviously, we need DNA to compaire with in forenzics." He added. "I'm sure you have someone in your inner circle who could translate the case report... A minor miscommunication on the part of the High Inquisitor resulted in the report being written in Latin rather than English." He remarked. "I'd really like to put this issue to rest to prove that Rathanan wasn't at fault for the likely death of Ambassador Robertson." He said. "If it turns out to be him, we'll send the remains back to your country to be burried.... I hardly think it's proper for a Chimaean statesman to be burried in Rathanan." He added.

Inquisition Report for Case Number 555-11-9910

JANUARY 17TH, 2005: Our first major clue in the disappearence of Chimaean Ambassador Robertson has finally surfaced. We have found human remains in the water off the coast of the Island of St. Peter. The measurements of the skull were close to the approxomate measurements given to us at the start of the case. This information is telling, but not conclusive. We also find it interesting that the Island of St. Peter is closest to the former nation of El Sentiel, whose government was still intact when Ambassador Robertson disappeared.

OFFICAL REQUEST(s): I am hereby requesting that Chimaea to be asked for dental records and/or DNA samples from Ambassador Robertson, so that our forensics analysts can determine weather or not the remains belong to the Ambassador. I would also like to request that a task force be sent to the former Kingdom of El Sentiel to investiagte old government buildings.

INCLOSED: Inclosed are picutres of the remains as well as a map marked with the exact spot we located the bones.

Victory in Christ,

Major Viktor M. Andremous

Baron Island

Lady Bryce glanced through the contents of the folder and when she looked up again, her eyes were cold. "Don't be fooled by my dulcet tones, Emperor," she said, bluntly sarcastic. "I'm not stupid. I know you kidnapped him and probably tortured him. And now I know he is dead. Ambassador Robertson was a good friend of mine... and kidnapping our Ambassador was an act of war."

She held up her hand to forestall any reply. "You can protest as much as you wish but we both know it to be true. We have DNA records that shall be forwarded to you, I'm sure you'd like to be seen going through the motions. However... remember this: the reason why practices like diplomatic immunity and protection work is that the best guarantee that we'd respect your diplomats is you respecting ours. When you tip the balance, the system starts to break down. I'm sure we'll never know officially that Ambassador Robertson was murdered by your regime, but every nation in Baron knows what really happened... and the next time you offer an Ambassadorial exchange or make diplomatic overtures, you may find things a lot more difficult." She gave him a thin, humourless smile. "There are always consequences. The higher-up the decision, the more devastating the consequences."

***

Armonía, South-West Chimaean Colombia

De Ballesteros watched the Rathani agents with an impressed amusement. Impressed because he could tell they were well-trained and well-equipped; amused because the equipment would be useful only up to a certain point--and that was the point where the CAF found you. Then it was a matter of squeezing triggers and praying. In the jungle, the word was 'survival'.

Still, it paid to have professionals on your team. He looked over at his men as they sat around on the jungle floor, having an impromptu meal. Valesco was chewing on a tough protein bar, a faraway look in his eyes. De Ballesteros had no idea why the man was the way he was... sometimes, in the dead of the night the conversation would creep towards the past and Valesco would mutter something about darkness and cellars, his eyes cold and lifeless. De Ballesteros had never pushed further--there were some things better left unknown.

Domingo was sitting, his rifle propped up against a tree, a landmine on his lap. He'd already eaten his small meal and was doing something which looked horribly dangerous with a screwdriver. The others had given him a wide berth, not only because of the landmine--there was something unsettling about the way the man would light up for anything to do with explosives or weapons. His usually dulled eyes would shine with a fervour of someone so mad that they were almost sane.

The other four Colombians were young, in their early twenties. Rugged and quiet, eating their food with their fingers, their faces lined with stress and the rigours of geurilla life. Hardened beyond their age. De Ballesteros knew in his heart of hearts that they would probably all be dead by tomorrow.

The Rathani agents were sitting a little apart from them, eating out of silver-wrapped packets. There was soemthing chillingly methodical about them which reminded de Ballesteros of the Chimaean special forces he'd encountered in CAF operations against the geurillas. Same sort of training, he guessed.

He washed down his cold meat with a swig of water. They were camped in a secure location near the trail to the bunker and already they'd had to hide from Chimaean drones and helicopters which were scanning the area before the rally. When the rally was in full swing, three of his men would cause chaos with greandes and rifle-fire. A major disturbance wouldn't be needed, just explosions and bullets flying--he doubted the men could even get close enough to the stage to do any real damage. The security measures would kick in and the Administrator would be whisked away amidst the confusion. Then... the ambush.

He picked up his M16 and started to clean it. By the end of this day, he vowed, Caton Gregorio would be a dead man.

The Grand House of Baron

The Holy Emperor's relaxed eyes suddenly turned cold and harsh, enough to rival even one of Rochstein's glares. "You, Lady Tayna Bryce, are in no position to be talking to me like a dog." He snapped. "The accusitions can fly both ways." He growled as he slammed another folder down on the desk spawntaniously. "Our investigations and interrogations have revieled that you have INDEED supplied the rebels against our nation..... THAT, Lady Bryce, is an act of war..... Flying planes into my country, bombing dangerous weapons, murdering civillians, and almost leveling one of our cities...... THOSE are acts of war." He continued relentlessly, his voice raising as he continued. "We have our case.... With one phone call I can have Ambassador Haupsburg bring this before the security council." He hissed as he thumped the folder. He soon pointed one of his long fingers at Lady Bryce. "I'd like to see you prove YOUR claims." He growled. "One more baseless accusition and mark my words, the only policy that will exist between our nation is a policy of mutually assured destruction..... There are just as many concequences for your words as there are for your actions... Only this time, the continued survival of both our nations are dependant on them." He added. "I think both sides have heard enough for today..." He remarked with an icy glare. "Infact, I think I've heard enough of you to last me the rest of my life. We'll sign what we've agreed to tomorrow and be done with it.... Good evening, Bryce." He concluded with disgust as he gathered his belongings and stormed out of the room, followed by his bodygaurds and staffers.

Armonía, South-West Chimaean Colombia

After the two agents finished their meals, the knelt down and began to say the Inquisition agent's prayer in Latin.

"Dear God our Heavenly Father, we have sinned against you in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone. If you judged men uppon their actions, there would be no hope. But because of the blood paid by your son, Jesus Christ, uppon the cross, we may come before you with confidence and live with the everlasting promise that we shall see you in Heaven. We therefore ask you to accept we, your servents into your kingdom if we should die in service to you and your nation on Earth. We thank you for sending your Son for us, so that we may come to know your mercy, and even more we thank you that we may die in your name. For God, for Emperor, and for the Empire. Amen."

The Island of Baron - The Holy Emperor's suite

The Holy Emperor stormed into his room and slammed the door behind him. He threw his hat off and began to curse.

"Damn that woman." He growled. "From this day on, I don't want her or any other Chimaean to sleep soundly at night!" He added as he unbuttoned his coat.

"Touched a nerve, did she Lucius?" A voice asked with a chuckle.

The Holy Emperor spun around quickly to see his Minister of Diplomacy, Andreas Calvictis, sitting in a recliner.

"Andreas, how nice of you to show up right when I don't need you.... I thought your wife had 'complecations with the flu'." The Holy Emperor snapped.

"So she did. Our doctors are working on it..... I felt bad not being here and I can see the results already." Calvictis remarked. "Now, sit down and take a deep breath..." He added calmly.

The Holy Emperor sat down and sighed. "I have to be ready for war 24/7 now." He stated.

"Yes, yes, you do.... She's not going to want to talk to you anymore after that, and I'm sure you feel the same...." Calvictis answered as he looked out the window. "See why I'm a 50 year old man who feels and acts like a 90 year old man?" He added with a smirk.

"You're the Minister of Diplomancy.... What are you going to order Haupsburg to do now?" The Holy Emperor asked as he downed a shot of whiskey.

"Well, now we're going to have to step up the ruthlessness 10 fold, Lucius.... That's the only way to put it." Calvictis said as he rubbed his eyes. "If regular and civil negotiations won't work too well, we're going to have to go about it in a completely opposite way." He stated. "I get my reputation for being a very charasmatic and easy to talk to Ambassador.... But that doesn't mean I never ruffled some feathers on Baron Island..." He added with a smirk.

"I need to arrange a meeting with the heads of the Department of War." The Holy Emperor said as he messed up his gelled hair. "I want the chessboard to be set up and ready for anything.... The pawns might start advancing anytime soon..." He added softly.

"Yes, unfortunate that this is the resort we must turn to.... However, I'm not really suprised that it happened this way.... Every nation needs its rival, Chimaea will be ours." Calvictis said softly. "Anyway, I'll leave you in peace.... I'd like to travel back to St. Alexander with you.... We have other things I'd like to discuss with you that I wouldn't trust saying in a hotel." He added in a hushed tone.

"Yes, of course.... And never sneak into my room again..... I see your Inquisition habbits die hard." The Holy Emperor said with a smirk.

"Of course, good night." Calvictis said with a smile.

((Note: Yes, you will find a lot of my inner circle characters were former members of the Inquisition.... Members of the Inquisition are given a lot of education on politics and the like.... Especally those in the spy division. Thus it only makes sence that numerous former Inquisiton members would integrate themselves into the Rathani government after they retire.))

Baron Island

Lady Bryce listened coldly to the Emperor's speech and watched disdainfully as he left the meeting. After he left, her lips quirked up in another humourless smile and she looked up as Sir Irving appeared at her side.

"The art of diplomacy..." he commented dryly.

Lady Bryce stood and gathered her papers, handing him the folder that the Emperor had slapped down on the table. "Have a look into this."

Sir Irving flipped through the folder. "We didn't supply their rebels did we?"

"No we certainly didn't!"

"Why not?"

Lady Bryce grinned briefly. "Beats me. It's certainly within our foreign policy to do so. Anyway, that's beside the point... now we know for certain what happened to Tim," she added bitterly. "No great surprises there."

Sir Irving's smile faded. "Yes," he said quietly. "He was one of a kind. A diplomat of the old school."

There was an awkward pause for a moment, then Lady Bryce shook her head as if to dislodge a thought. "The next session of the general assembly, drag this issue out into the open. Bring it before the security council yourself if you have to. We are not going to have this over us like a cloud, let them make all the accusations they like. Any independant investigation will call them on their bluff."

Sir Irving nodded grimly. "I'm of the same opinion. I'll take care of it... what about you? What's the next move?"

Lady Bryce looked away. "The next move is in Colombia. Keep an eye on that... do what you have to do."

***

Armonía, South-West Chimaean Colombia

When Administrator Gregorio strode into onto of the situation rooms of the CAF base in Armonía, General Worset was already there with two aides, placing markers on an electronic wall-map. The General nodded and smiled at him as he walked to stand beside them.

"What news, General?"

"There's some geurilla activity around Amazonas and West Armonía, Administrator. We're keeping a watch on it but we don't think it's anything major. Today's rally will be heavily guarded and secure. As for the rest of Chimaean Colombia... there's was a grenade attack at a policía checkpoint in the outskirts of Se Levantó but nobody was hurt. Special forces found the journalist that was kidnapped on Tuesday... alive and well. Very well, in fact, because he was at the bottom of one, tied and gagged. There was a bit of a firefight but we got them."

"Ah, good public relations for CAF."

"Indeed, sir. The drug problem is still bad. The drug makers have all gone underground and it's being produced in small, difficult-to-access areas, sometimes well-disguised. We're getting to them but it's a slow process."

The Administrator nodded sympathetically. "At least we've stopped the majority of international traffiking. The domestic market for drugs, sad to say, probably won't lessen too much in this generation."

General Worset nodded then frowned slightly. "Which reminds me... completely off the record... We had some unexpected arrivals last week--"

A Colombian official hurried up to the Administrator and murmured in his ear. The Administrator nodded and turned back to the General. "I'm sorry, General, I'm due at the rally. Politics... Perhaps you can tell me some other time?"

"Of course, Administrator. Happy politiking."

The Administrator grinned, thanked him and left. General Worset turned back to the map, dismissing the worrying thought and returning to the domestic campaigns...

-----------

OOC: another post ASAP, didn't get enough time to finish this one

"I'm sorry Holy Empress, your husband isn't expect to survive..." The doctor said to the wife of the Holy Emperor, whom immediately stared at her son who was standing with his sisters. "He requested to see Lucius immediately, though...." The doctor added as he motioned for the young man to follow.

The hospital room was bright and full of the best equipment Rathanan had to offer. Lucius looked at the hospital bed and saw his father lying there.

"Father?" Lucius asked cautiously.

"Wh-who's there? Lucius?" The Holy Emperor asked in a startled tone.

"Yes Father, it's me...." Lucius answered.

"Lucius, my time is short, soon I shall be with our Father in Heaven.... You are the most likely canidate to replace me." The Holy Emperor said. "You shall have many enemies during your rule, are you ready?" The Holy Emperor asked with a cough.

"Yes Father, I am." Lucius responded.

"Then tell me, Lucius, what must you do to become a successful and powerful Holy Emperor?" His father asked, staring at him.

"Boost the economy, rally the Rathani people behind the golden cross, and defend our nation from all threats forgein and domestic." Lucius responded hastily.

"One last thing.... Beware of the Commonwealth of Chimaea, they're becoming bolder when facing us!" The Holy Emperor said as he began to choke up.

"He's relapsing!" A nurse yelled as numerous doctors and nurses pushed Lucius aside and rushed to the Holy Emperor's aide..... Thirty minutes later, the Holy Emperor was dead...

Lucius stared at the lifeless body of his father when the firm hand of an aging man landed on his shoulder sympathetically. Lucius looked up to see High Inquisitior Mathias Olivegrove staring at him with a smile.

"It all falls to you now, Lucius.... It all falls to you now..." Mathias said to him as he turned to look at the body of the Holy Emperor.

***
The Holy Emperor woke up with a start. He was covered in sweat and he was panting.... He was dreaming of the day his road to the throne of Rathanan began... It had been almost 5 days since his botched meetings with Lady Bryce and he was back in the palace where military officals were flooding every hallway all the time.... Rathanan was on watch, but Lucius knew there was more to be done. It was daytime now, and already he could hear voices and action outside of his door, when suddenly there was a knock on it.

"Come." Lucius said as he put on his belt.

The door opened and High Inquisitor Olivegrove and Minister of Diplomacy Calvictis entered in.

"Sorry to disturb you Lucius, but I wanted to inform you that Andreas and I have agreed to send Major Rochstein to Baron Island to work side by side with Ambassador Haupsburg.... If we're going to make this case, we're going to have to step it up a bit." Olivegrove said.

"Okay, that's fine by me Mathias." The Holy Emperor said in an obviously uninterested tone. "How are our agents doing in Columbia?" He asked.

"We haven't recieved any word from them as of yet, which means that they've either been discovered, which we find highly unlikely, OR they've made contact with the guerillas and have yet to pull off their assignment, which is much more likely in my book." Olivegrove responded

"You're the expert here, Mathias, I'll go with what you think." The Holy Emperor responded.

"I trust Haupsburg is starting to stirr up the bee hive a bit more, Andreas?" The Holy Emperor asked as he put his suit jacket on.

"From what I've heard, yes he has..... But proceedings at the Grand House of Baron have been slow as of late." Calvicitis responded.

"Just tell him to keep the pressure on them.... We're not taking prisoners this time." Lucius remarked.

"I'm sure he will, Lucius, he knows what he's doing." Andreas reassured. "All he needs is time." He added.

"By the way, Mathias, I'd like you to act more quickly with your propoganda assignment.... I want our people thinking that Chimaeans are straight from hell by the end of next week." The Holy Emperor stated.

"Of course, Holy Emperor.... It shouldn't be too hard.... I'll take the whip to our propoganda department." Mathias responded.

"Very good, now if there's nothing else, I have to meet with that Ashlan contractor who's company is rebuilding St. Cypher." The Holy Emperor said tightening his tie.

"Yes, of course." Olivegrove and Calvictis said as they left.

Hevlimar City - Presidental Manor

President Fulda stared at some new documents that just landed on his desk and smiled mischeviously.

"Good, good." He said to himself with a chuckle. "The talks failed and I didn't even have to go.... This will be most profitable." He added as he picked up his phone. "Yes, Richard? Yes, get me a meeting with Lady Bryce one day and Holy Emperor Calidan another day..... We have contracts to get signed!" He said to his Secretary of State.

"Yes Mr. President.... I'll contact them as soon as possible." The Secretary of State muttered. "I better get started...."

To the honorable Lady Bryce:

In this time of unrest between your great nation and the Holy Empire of Rathanan, we know that military strength is important. Therefore, we are offering you a trade contract so that our companies can offer you their quality items in your conflicts with the Holy Empire. I look foward to hearing from you soon so we can set up a meeting between you and the President of Ashlavar, Todd J. Fulda.

With humblest regards,

Richard Zarnesky
Secretary of State of the Federal Republic of Ashlavar

***

To the great and honorable Holy Emperor Lucius Calidan:

In this time of unrest between your powerful nation and the Commonwealth of Chimaea, you must know that quality munitions are needed for such a grand military like yours to be as effective as it can be. Therefore, we would like to offer you a trade contract so that our companies can offer you these quality arms for very little cost. Already you are seeing the quality that Ashlan companies have to offer in the rebuilding of St. Cypher City. We hope to hear from you soon so we can set up a meeting between you and the President of Ashlavar, Todd J. Fulda.

With humblest regards,

Richard Zarnesky,
Secretary of State of the Federal Republic of Ashlavar

The Department of Diplomacy - Minister Calvictis's Office

Minister Calvictis looked at the request from the Ashlan Secretary of State and huffed.

"We just bought a new line of Rathani made weaponry from what I've heard.... I don't like this request.... It's too bold and too.... Outright... For Ashlavar.." He muttered as he picked up the telephone.

"Get me the Holy Emperor." Calvictis demanded. "I don't care, unless he's in a meeting with the Triune God, you will get me the Holy Emperor." He growled. "Thank you." He said polietly when the secretary conceeded over the phone.

"What is it Andreas? I'm meeting with the Department of War right now.... Make it quick." The Holy Emperor's voice said on the phone.

"Lucius, I'm faxing you a request from the Ashlan Secretary of State to you.... But in a nutshell, they want to sell us weapons..... Nevermind the fact that we just bought a new line of Rathani made weaponry from the Johannas and Quintious Military Technology Corporation..." He stated.

"So what? Tell them no! Can't I confide in you enough to do that for me?" The Holy Emperor growled.

"But Holy Emperor.... Remember what you were told about Ashlavar since you were a child.... VICIOUSLY isolationist.... This is HIGHLY out of character for them.... I smell something very fishy going on here and I do believe I shall contact Haupsburg to try and pry it out of them." The Minister said.

"Yes, you're right.... This is very out of character for Ashlavar.... Especally for their President.. He is a Conservative-Libertarian, right? I can understand one of their Progressives doing this.... But not the CLs..." The Holy Emperor remarked. "Don't bring this up in the Grand House of Baron.... I'll get Olivegrove to have the Inquisition's eye be on Ashlavar a bit more." The Holy Emperor remarked. "But right now, I need to go back to my meeting.... Goodday, Andreas." He concluded.

"Yes, yes, good day Lucius." Andreas remarked as he hung up the phone. "Now, what's a good way to say 'hell no'?" He muttered as he turned to his computer.


Official Edict from the Department of Diplomacy of the Holy Empire of Rathanan

Dear Secretary of State Richard Zarnesky:

We regret to inform you that we are not interested in purchasing weaponry from your companies. While we know the quality of Ashlan companies is very high, we have just bought a new line of weaponry from a Rathani company. Again, we thank you for the offer and the Ashlan company: Erik and Sons Construction is doing a fine job in the rebuildling efforts of St. Cypher City.

As far as meeting with the Holy Emperor, this may be possible, but it is not completely advantageous for him to meet with President Fulda at the moment.

Yours in Christ,

Andreas J. Calvictis

Minister of the Department of Diplomacy: Holy Empire of Rathanan

Hevlimar City - Ashlavar

President Fulda picked up his phone as he read the letter from Minister Calvictis.

"Get me Zarnesky!" The President growled. "NOW!" He yelled.

"What is it?!" Zarnesky asked nervously over the phone.

"I told you! I told you Richard! Did I not tell you?" The president yelled into the phone. "We regret to inform you that we are not interested in purchasing weaponry from your companies. While we know the quality of Ashlan companies is very high, we have just bought a new line of weaponry from a Rathani company." He read angerily.

"Calm down! Calm down!" Zarnesky pleaded.

"Watch, now Rathanan has taken an interest in us! Soon we'll have all sorts of their little spies in our midst... These guys are better than the Russian KGB! Soon Lucius Calidan will know all of our little secrets!" He continued to yell.

"Then step up defence measures!" Zarnesky yelled back.

"Don't you yell at me! You're the one who botched this up!" The President bellowed. "Come next election, I'm going to have a ticket, and you're not going to be on it Richard, unless you clean this mess up!" He continued to bellow. "You promised me this was fool proof and now I have this letter returning, and now Inquisition Spy Airlines is flying full 747s straight to Hevlimar City, Richard!" He yelled. "Clean it up!" He yelled as he slammed the phone on the reciever. The President sighed. "Good thing I sold my shares in my old company to someone I trust... I might be going back there." He muttered again as he lit a cigar. "Prehaps Chimaea will buy.... Who knows....? Prehaps I was too hard on Richard... We do go way back afterall..." He muttered.

New Sydney, Governor's Office

Lady Bryce raised an eyebrow and dropped her pen on top of the open folder containing a copy of the Ashlan Secretary of State's offer. She stared at General de Santuro and the Foreign Minister thoughtfully.

"All right. What does it mean?"

The Foreign Minister looked strained. "It's quite a step away from their previous isolationist foreign policy, isn't it? Coupled with their statements in the Grand House... it's very interesting. They seem to be swinging towards a more open foreign policy, at least as far as business is concerned."

Lady Bryce nodded. "General? Do we need military products?"

General de Santuro hesitated for a moment before replying. "Need? No. Our contracts with Chimaean companies and international markets are keeping us fully supplied... however we mustn't turn down any new opportunities. Let us at least find out what they're offering..."

"How does doing so effect the international scene, Mitchelle?"

"It would be in keeping with our increased spending and call for military trade," the Foreign Minister commented thoughtfully. "Although be careful as to what you put your signature to. Hmm... What does Ashlavar need?"

"Law and order?" suggested Lady Bryce with a wry smile.

"Heh... Well yes. And perhaps protection, too. Ashlavar isn't a part of either the Chimaean or Bordorian hegemony--they don't have many ties with anyone. They've been interested in the Rathanan situation, we believe to prevent vital markets from being destroyed--the current government is business-led and controlled. Welfare, equality and equity, healthcare is non-existant, their education system is underfunded and in tatters..."

"Get to your point..."

"We need regional popularity, Tanya," the Foreign Minister said bluntly. "We have to win the hearts and minds of all these nations. Well, the ones we haven't pissed off. Meet them, sign the contracts if you must, and offer our expertise--education, law and order, healthcare. Don't push the welfare thing too far. Ashlavar... something tells me that nation will hold a lot of keys in future."

Lady Bryce leaned back in her chair. "Right. I'll meet with their leaders... tell Mr. Zarnesky that I'm interested."

***

TO: Richard Zarnesky, Secretary of State of the Federal Republic of Ashlavar

FROM: Lady Tanya Bryce, Governor of the Commonwealth of Chimaea

Dear Mr. Zarnesky,

I'm delighted to hear from Ashlavar and intrigued by your offer of trade. Please extend my warmest greetings to President Fulda and inform him that I would be honoured to meet with him to discuss trade and other matters of mutual concern.

Warmest regards,

Lady Tanya Bryce
Governor Cmmwlth. of Chimaea

***

Armonía, A Field Outside the City

Colombians, media, Chimaeans and even some tourists started gathering in the late afternoon sunlight. There was a strangely carnival atmosphere in the proceedings, with fast-food sellers and even some stalls already setting up to cater for the crowd.

Security was tight. Everyone who made it past the chainlink fences were put through metal detectors and randomly searched by police. Colombian troops kept a watchful eye on everything as they patrolled the grounds and the stage area, guns conspicuously held at the ready. Plainclothes police were already mingling with the crowd, ready to respond with the element of surprise to any attack. In the distance, drones circled the grounds from high in the air.

Floodlights already lit the grounds and the stage with a harsh white glare. Music, quiet enough to talk over but loud enough to annoy, issued from the enormous speakers set up near the stage and the booster speakers around the perimeter of the grounds.

The crowd became hundreds, then thousands, then tens of thousands as people flocked to hear the Administrator's final speech before the elections. Even the openly-carried arms of the soldiers didn't dampen the euphoric mood that was building in the crowd.

Slowly, a shout of "Caton! Caton!" started coalescing from the crowd. The mood was electric, the anticipation high as the long-suffering Colombians dared to set their hopes and dreams on one man...

***

Caton Gregoria looked out at the crowd from behind the stage, feeling the familiar knot of nervous tension in his stomach. After all these speeches and rallies you'd think I'd get used to it, he thought. Still... there was something hugely uplifting and almost magical about the scene.

He checked himself hastily in a mirror. Perfectly pressed suit, well-combed hair, a happy smile. The smile was genuine--politician he may be, but he passionately believed in his cause. The image was perfect but it was the message that would win over his people. And what a message it was.

Caton Gregoria took a deep breath and prepared to face destiny.

Hevlimar City - Ashlavar

Richard Zarnesky sat in a chair in a self confident way while the President read Chimaea's response.

"Okay Richard, you get to keep your place on the ticket...." The President said as he took a drag on his cigar. "But I'm not ready to give up on our military technology dealings with Rathanan.... I know we have something they want in large quantities... We can make it quicker and cheaper than they can I do believe." He said as he looked up at Richard. "If these two nations are going to blow themselves to bits, Ashlavar is going to at least make a few Nalerios out of it.." He remarked as he looked at a map of the Baron region.

"What are you proposing, Todd?" Richard asked nervously.

"How many extra nuclear warheads to we have readily available?" The President asked as he shot a glance to Richard.

"Uh-What??!!!" Richard exclaimed shocked.

"Of course, silly me.... I'll have to call the Defence Department for that information... We recieved a call of interest from Chimaea, now I want intrest from Rathanan." He stated bluntly to his Secretary of State as he burned holes in Chimaea and Rathanan on the map he was looking at.

"Do you realize what will happen if Chimaea realizes that we're giving nukes to Rathanan?!" The Secretary of State exclaimed.

"What are they going to do? Invade us like they invaded Rathanan? All that would do is put us completely on the side of Rathanan and Bordoria... Chimaea couldn't survive a war against all three of us." The President stated as he blew smoke out of his nostriles. "Any day now I'm going to be walking down to the Mannor courtyard standing beside Lady Bryce to give a news conference..... Good friends that day.... Chimaea and Ashlavar... The Alliance of freedom." He joked. "Frankly, nothing would make me laugh harder than seeing them both be blown to smithereens." He added.

"How do you plan to do this?" Richard asked nervously.

"That, my friend, is for the Secretary of Commerce and the Secretary of Defence..." The President said as he picked up his phone.

"This is insane! Do you realize what we're doing here?!" Richard asked.

"Yes, I'm securing our re-election, Richard... The Progressives are advancing in their votes due to their desire to go into the global scene... However, if we do it before they can..." The President said with a smirk. "They have no issue.... That issue, aside from the hefty crime rate, is on the top of people's lists in '07." The President remarked as he typed a number into his phone.

"Yes, Suzan? Get Secretary of Commerce Bismark and Secretary of Defence Müller in my office pronto!" The President said to his Secretary.

"Uh- Yes, Mr. President." She responded.

"Chimaea gets our guns, Rathanan gets our nukes.... We will fill our pockets Richard.... Even if it means the complete destabilization of Baron itself.... Ashlavar will live on as it always has." He remarked as he pointed his finger at his Secretary of STate. "You're dismissed." He concluded.

"Think about what you're doing, PLEASE! You're almost asking them to go to war.... Or even worse, you're asking one or the other to go to war with US!" The Secretary of State said as he got up.

"Remember, Richard, you were the brilliant one who came up with this.... Now I'm molding it in a way I see nessisary." The President snapped. "Now get out." He snapped again as Richard walked out mumbling.

"So, Ashlavar finally comes out to play with the big dogs...." He said to himself as he burned bigger holes into Chimaea and Rathanan. "I better offer legislation to increase military funding..." He remarked as he turned to his computer.

"Lucius Calidan, you are indeed the most possible heir to the throne of Rathanan, but after the failings of your father and grandfather, it's not looking up for you." A Bishiop from the Council of Bishiops remarked as he eyed Lucius.

"I agree, do you believe you can handle the demands of the Throne of Rathanan?" Another asked.

"Yes, Bishiop, I do believe I can..." Lucius tried to respond but was cut off.

"Even in the modern world? Times have changed since the early days when we had Holy Emperors as young as six!" The Bishop inturrupted.

"Yes, even in the modern world... The great thing about having past Holy Emperors who were family members is that I can learn from their mistakes DIRECTLY and know what works, and what doesn't." Lucius responded. "I have clearly laid out my economic plans for Rathanan, as well as forgein and domestic policy... The people I chose to head up my government institutions were seen by you to be "blameless for a role in such a place". Lucius shot back. "So my question to you is, Bishiops and Arch Bishop of the Holy Church of Rathanan..... Why not me?" Lucius challanged.

"I agree, the boy is well trained and is certainly competent for the post.... It's not like he's five... He'll be considered an adult soon enough! Another Bishop said.

"Yes, but how will this look on the forgein scene? Us confirming a teenager to be the Holy Emperor of our nation?" Another Bishop remarked.

"With all due respect, Bishop, who cares what other nations think about me? If they mess with me or the Holy Empire.... They shall feel nothing but my wrath." Lucius reponded in a resolute tone.

"Yes, but what about Chimaea?" The Bishop asked as the room fell quiet.

"Chimaea? The same policy.... They push us, we'll punch them.. Our enemies are closing in around us, they see our weakness at the moment and are waiting to strike... I shall make sure that no nation dares strike at us." The Holy Emperor stated. "If they do, they shall be defeated." He remarked again. "I will be a great and effective Holy Emperor, I give all of you my word on that." He said bluntly.

***

The Holy Emperor woke up with a start. It seems that lately he's been having more and more flashback dreams to the years leading up to him assuming the throne. He stumbled over to his sink and splashed water on his face.

"One thing after another..." He mumbled to himself. "First Chimaea, now Ashlavar.... What's next? Xigamorph gets a massive army and invades?" He grumbled as he pat his face dry. "I better get the 'saint' title after what I've been through... Forget St. Alexander and St. Androphine.. I'm the one having to take daily strolls through hell." He growled as stepped into the shower.

The shower was warm and relaxing, exactly what Lucius needed at the moment. He had been up most of last night being briefed by Minister Calvictis and High Inquisitor Olivegrove about Ashlavar. Who would have known that a normally quiet nation would rise such a ruckkass within his administration? After about a ten minute shower, Lucius climed out and dried himself off.

"I feel like I'm older than Mathias.... And we still haven't got that POW transfer completed!" Lucius moaned as he put his clothes on. "But I suppose that's enough complaining for one day.... I have a job to do afterall.. I gave them my word.." He muttered as he remembered his dream.

***

Lucius walked into the throne room and grabed his telephone.

"Olivegrove." The voice on the other end said.

"Yes, Mathias.... One question.... Why haven't I heard of any top people being shot by Columbian geurilla's yet? Where are those two agents of yours?" The Holy Emperor asked. "They better not be having a vacation on our defence funds!" He snapped.

"Calm down Lucius.... These two were handpicked by me... They're some of the best that the Inquisition has to offer... If they can't do anything, then few others can." Mathias responded.

"Well I want a violent assassination happening soon... The longer this dwindles, the longer it takes to cover up." Lucius stated.

"Don't worry about covering this up, Lucius.... As of the day they arrived in Columbia, they ceased to exist." Olivegrove stated. "Of course, their identities will be restored if they can find a way to leave Columbia alive.." He added cautiously.

"Okay, so long as it IS clean..." Lucius said.

"Lucius, it's me we're talking about here! I've been doing this since the end of your grandfather's career." Mathias shot back with a chuckle.

Lucius chuckled back lightly. "Alright Mathias, I'll be a little more patient with them... I'll just be frank when I say, I want to see someone related to Chimaea get their brains blown out..... There will never be enough vengence for St. Cypher City." The Holy Emperor stated.

"Yes, understandable Lucius.... Just give them, at most, a week more." Mathias responded. "Now, if you'll let me go, I have a boatload of papers to sign off so they can land on your desk tomorrow." He added with a chuckle.

"Fine, goodday." Lucius said as he hung up the phone.

Armonía, A Field Outside the City

They'd met three days previously. She was twenty-two, he was twenty five--he'd noticed her walking around Armonía city, looking lost and bewildered. She was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

It turned out she was hopelessly lost and almost in tears--the few hotels and motels around Armonía were filled up in preparation for the rally and her booking had been cancelled due to a clerical mishap. She was a political sciences student from a quiet, small university in eastern Colombia. Like most other students she was fascinated and in awe of Caton Gregorio and wanted to see him in person at the rally. She'd been wondering around for three hours after arriving to find her booking cancelled, unable to find a place to stay.

He worked as a network engineer in Colombia's fledgling I.T. industry, in a busy office building in central Armonía. He had gentle eyes and a deep but soft voice--and coupled with a million-dollar smile she'd instantly liked him. He'd asked her what was wrong, they'd had lunch and he'd invited her to stay with his family. For some reason she'd trusted him and his family had been lovely, caring people.

He'd asked her out on the second day but in a non-pressuring way. She'd readily accepted and they'd gone to dinner at a fairly expensive restaurant and a movie afterwards. He was well-mannered and easy-going. When they'd gotten back, the goodnight kiss had turned into a lot more.

They were both very, very happy. It felt too good to last, almost like a fairy-tale. They spent the third day walking around Armonía, seeing the sights and talking about everything, as young people do. When afternoon turned to evening, they got ready and went out early to the rally, to get good positions.

Three hours later, they would be dead.

***

"Caton! Caton!"

The curtains parted in the middle and Administrator Gregorio walked out into the bright spotlights which centered on him. The cameras immediately picked up his image and broadcasted it onto the giant screens on either side as well as to the sattelites far above, on international TV. It was a proud, life-affirming moment, not just for Colombia but for humanity. Whatever was decided at the election, this moment spelt out that good had triumphed over evil.

The Administrator beamed at the overwhelming roar of cheering and clasped his hands above his hand, looking like a sportstar after scoring a goal. His grin was wide and he found himself laughing, lost in the euphoria of the moment.

He took center stage and became the focus of attention. The cheering eventually subsided and he began speaking, his voice amplified by the immense speakers, entering the hearts and minds of his audience. He painted his vision of the future in impassioned tones; he spoke earnestly, honestly and sometimes fierily about his life, his goals, about Colombia. He spoke with simple gratefulness about Chimaea--not humbly or sickeningly, but as one would genuinely thank a friend for help given.

Halfway across the world in her darkened office in New Sydney Parliament House, Lady Bryce looked into the Administrator's eyes in her wall-screen TV. Her face was in darkness, beyond the reach of the light from the TV, but something glinted on her face. It could have been a tear, or perhaps nothing at all.

As he spoke, the Administrator looked around as much of the vast audience as he could. There were people from all walks of life--poor, rich, old and young. He caught the eyes of a couple near the front, both staring with rapt attention up to him. The girl grinned and waved to him and the young man smiled. Even though he was in the middle of a serious discourse at that point, he couldn't help smiling back at them.

There was a series of loud cracks, dulled by the sound of the crowd, as if someone was breaking dry sticks. The Administrator continued speaking but looked casually around for the source of the noise. Unable to spot it in the glare, he looked back towards the young couple.

She was leaning against the young man. No, not leaning--falling. And he was bending at the waist, falling forward.

The Administrator's voice faltered. The girl's eyes stared back at him, lifeless, her expression blank, almost shocked. The sound of the crowd seemed oddly muted in his ears.

Then he was pushed to the ground and pulled towards the trapdoor on the stage. Bodyguards in dark suits. Soldiers with rifles trained. Piled unceremoniously into a four-wheeled drive vehicle. The screams from the crowd getting fainter. Darkness.

***

Colombian and Chimaean radio chatter, as declassified and editted for the Colombian Inquiry

"Shots fired! Shotes fired!"

"Roger that, shots fired, scrambling--"

"Code three, repeat code three."

"Who the fuck's got the East gate?"

"Theta Team, East gate on lock down--"

"Shit, shit, we have machine gun fire to the West and North-East--"

"Drones are firing to the West."

"Say again?"

"Drones are scrambling to the West."

"Operation Backburn implemented?"

"Affirmative on Operation Backburn, Caton's safe."

"Grenade!"

"Multiple explosions around the perimeter--"

"Tango down, tango down--"

"Beta Team has engaged tangos to the North-East."

"Roger that... Beta Team, what's your status?"

"Drones firing cover over the North-East--"

"Beta Team, sitrep?"

"We got 'em. Tangos are down."

Armonía, Colombian Military Convoy

The four-wheel-drive vehicle bounced and juddered along the rough dirt track that led to the safezone of the bunker. The vehicle was lightly armoured, with bullet-proof glass and a powerful engine--built for stability and speed as opposed to maximum security.

It was sandwiched between two humvees, each with a fifty-calibre mounted machine gun, with an armoured personnel carrier coming up behind. The APC was better armoured and had two machine-gun nests on the top.

The Administrator sat in the back seat of the four-wheel-drive vehicle, with two bodyguards in Colombian Army uniform beside him. The other two bodyguard was riding in the front passenger seat and a CAF Marine Recon soldier was driving. In the course of the chaos at the rally, someone had strapped a kevlar vest over the Administrator's suit and placed a helmet losely over his head.

The men were tense. The bodyguards peered suspiciously out the windows into the gloom of the jungle on either side of the track, their guns drawn and ready--the two on each side of the Administrator armed with sub-machine guns, the one in front with a 9mm pistol. The Marine Recon soldier's assault rifle was clipped losely to the dashboard.

Even with this amount of protection, the Administrator didn't feel too safe. The sight of the couple dying in front of him kept replaying in his head. Who were they? Where had they come from, why were they there? Did... had they beleived in him? One moment alive, the next moment falling. It didn't make sense. The final rally of the campaign, a celebration of the rebirth of Colombia... now turned into a nightmare.

The Administrator closed his eyes tightly, feeling his body ache where it had been manhandled by the bodyguards. He was being made a fool of, promising peace and security when people were dying in front of him.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the first rocket-propelled grenade explode against the humvee in front.

***

Domingo Montavez lay flat in the undergrowth, half covered by two branches he'd shifted over himself. He wore the night-vision goggles that the Ratani agents had supplied them with--it was an edge the enemy might prepare for but wouldn't expect. He knew he needed all the edge he could get.

In front of him was a stubby metal box, with four stripped wires coiled around three metal studs. The middle stud had a button on it. It was a hopelessly basic detonator, powered by two batteries leading to the mines clustered along the road. It had taken some careful work to disable the pressure-sensors of the mines and rewire them to explode on the push of the button, then disguise the wires, half buried, along the road. It was a tenuous set-up but the basic nature of it was to their advantage. If the mine's didn't work, then neither did the ambush, allowing them to make good their escape--the mines' multiple-explosions was the signal for the major attack.

Which meant a lot of things could go wrong. However, as de Ballesteros had said, all you could do once there was concentrate on the job at hand and forget the ifs and buts and maybes. A tough call, though.

Domingo was roused from his thoughts by a distant rumbling. The convoy was close by. He felt his body tense up and forced himself to relax, breathing slowly. Waves of nervous tension went through him but he ignored them, lying as still as he could, his finger on the button.

***

The geurilla in charge of losing off the first RPG was young, all of twenty-one years old. He was the least experience in combat so he'd been given a job that required little experience, though good aim--after the initial explosions, he was to fire at the lead humvee with the RPG launcher.

The plan lamost went wrong right there. He'd been excited, almost wracked with nervous tension as he hid behind a small incline at the side of the trail, his sweating hands greasy against the cold, heavy metal of the rocket launcher. When he heard the growl of engines his heart beat so hard he thought he might be sick.

The lead humvee came into view, moving fast and all instructions promptly vanished in his mind. There was the target, it was travelling quickly, he had to destroy it as fast as he could. He crouched up onto his knees, shouldered the launcher, aimed at the bulk of the humvee and fired.

The RPG setup was a Russian-designed RPG-7 with a small scope for aiming. In it's backup state the 85mm grenade, a High Explosive Anti-Tank (HEAT) impact-detonation round is unarmed, the arming mechanism automatically operating once the trigger has been squeezed. The grenade left the launcher at high velocity, crossing the distance of 60 meters rapidly and slamming into the light armour of the humvee through the driver's side, exploding on impact. The vehicle lifted and blew apart, incinerating the crew inside, lacing the nearby area with shrapnel.

***

The explosion was an unexpected shock for Domingo. He cursed silently, watching the other vehicles break to a halt. The APC, a small distance behind the main convoy, slowed meters from the mines.

Domingo softly uttered a small prayer. He watched the APC slow... not breaking fully... crawling towards the nouse, the two gunners on top scanning the road and jungle... Just a little more... Just one meter....

Now.

Domingo pressed the button. The batteries erupted into life, electricity crackled between the metal stubs, flowed into the wires, across the road and activated the detonators. The four anti-tank mines exploded, blowing the APC into the air, ripping the medium armour apart with ease.

Domingo was already grabbing his IMBEL LAR assault rifle, shaking his cover off. He scanned for survivors from the APC, then headed towards the main combat area.

Armonia Columbia

Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodecia looked at the flaming wreckage of the vehicles through bonoculars.

"So, sir.... Mission success?" Benodecia asked, looking at his superior.

"Success is a relative term for this mission, Sargent.... You remember what High Inquisitor Olivegrove said, didn't you?" The Capitan responded, still looking at the flames of the wreckage.

"Yes, 'this is a Class-A mission, your chances of making it out of Columbia alive are next to nill... However, your aid of these geurillas may greatly help in our spy games against Chimaea.'" Benodecia quoted

"Exactly. So if you mean success in just taking out the target.... Then yes, we were quite successful.... However, if you were looking for fame and glory in the annals of the Inquisition, you picked the wrong mission.... The other part of most missions, which is returning alive, will most likely be a dead failure." Chavez remarked as he removed his cover and cocked his IAR-87.

"Kind of depressing, really... But oh well, I chose this job." Benodecia said as he cocked his assault rifle.

"Right now maybe, but Heaven will be greater than my home in St. Andrew City or any other place in the world by infinate amounts.... I almost can't wait." Chavez remarked as he started to run to join the geurillas.

"Ha, of course.... Even the Holy Emperor has stated that Heaven beats the Holy Empire down into the floor..... I'm just glad I ended up breaking up with Anna before I did this mission." Benodecia said as he ran to join Chavez.

"Well, you're just lucky you didn't get in trouble for that girlfriend of yours... You know the Inquisition Intellegence Department Policy #578 and how Olivegrove is about that kind of thing." Chavez stated. "No Field Intellegence Agent shall, at any time, put him/herself in a position where commited relationships are required." He quoted.

Benodecia stared at Chavez, he was always amazed at just how much Chavez could remember.... He knew almost every policy of almost every defence service and almost every other beurocracy... The makings of a true overachiever.... A prodogy within the Inquisition that was about to die on the field of battle. Among the first things they always tought you in Black Ops. Training was how to accept death and live with the knowledge that you have little chance to live. Benodecia had always had a hard time with that policy, but Chavez never seemed to. Pitty, really, Chavez could have easily been High Inquisitor in the future... But they were both running to their deaths...

Armonía, Ambush Site

De Ballesteros held his M16 at the ready and moved care around the flaming wreckage of the lead humvee. The plan had gone almost disastrously wrong--if the APC had stopped and the soldiers had managed to get out, the situation could have ended badly. If Valesco's mad plan worked and they lived through this, he'd have to buy Domingo a drink.

To his right, he saw the two Rathani agents moving silently towards the four-wheel drive vehicle. He knew that on the other side, Valesco and the other geurilla would be approaching the vehicle; from the rear, Domingo.

Through the sound of the flames, he heard the sound of a door close. He ducked just in time as a trail of bullets stitched their way across where his chest had been. He was already rolling, though, and as he brought his M16 to bear he squeezed the trigger, letting a three-round burst towards the source of the firing.

Two of the bodyguards were out of the vehicle. The driver was nowhere to be seen; de Ballesteros presumed the Administrator and the other bodyguard was inside.

The firing was the signal. From both sides of the path, the geurillas and agents opened up with their assault rifles, peppering the sides of the vehicle; under the barrage the bulletproof glass started to give way and the clash of metal on metal filled the night. The bodyguards fell after a token resistance, one almost decapitated by concentrated fire. Blood sprayed against the side of the vehicle.

***

The Administrator yelled something that was lost to the sound of gunfire. He watched blood spray up against the windows, watched the bullets smashing their way through the glass. The man beside him was firing through the broken glass and then he slammed against his seat, twisted obscenely and fell on top of the Administrator.

He struggled under the dead weight, collapsing off the backseat of the vehicle. He struggled for a moment then a sharp, blinding pain blossomed across his stomach. He was aware of nothing but the incandescent heat of the pain, then darkness once more.

***

De Ballesteros watched as the Rathani agents rushed up the the vehicle and fire inside. Then their firing ceased, one looked back and gave the all-clear signal.

He glanced around, making sure there were no survivors from the RPG attacks, and made his way to the vehicle. Peering in through the cracked and shattered windows, he saw the two bodies, grotesquely heaped together, unmoving and covered in blood. He couldn't help smiling.

In the flicking red glow of burning humvees, his face looked positively demonic.

The moment of triumph passed. The growl of an engine and the sharpe note of a horn reminded him that they had to get away. He signalled to Valesco, who clambered opened the back door of the Administrator's vehicle and carefully started to remove the intricate sensor and signal equipment which identified the vehicle as the Administrator's transport. The other four wheel drive vehicle came into view, driven by Domingo; they'd done their best to fit it as similiar to the Administrator's vehicle as possible. De Ballesteros had even gone to the lengths of shooting it around the back and sides to simulate the effects of the ambush.

The geurillas opened the back of the fake vehicle and hastily donned the Colombian army uniforms stowed there. Domingo donned an ill-fitting grey suit, a bulky kevlar vest and a dark grey helmet and began to fit the Administrator's vehicle with blocks of C4, covering it inside and out. He attached a remote detonator, then helped Valesco secure the sensor and signal equipment onto the fake vehicle.

***

Pain. Searing pain and hot liquid seeping out of his torn body. He could barely breathe as he lay there, the weight of a dead man pressing down upon him.

Administrator Gregorio didn't know why he was alive and wished he wasn't. His stomach was a mass of pain as he tried moving slightly and he gritted his teeth, nearly vomitting. There was blood in his mouth.

He tried moving again. There. A slight give; he wasn't wedged under his bodyguard as much as he thought. He craned his neck around and realised that the door of vehicle was wide open. He turned his head to the left and--

There was a bar of C4 next to him, the wire touching his kevlar vest.

He recognised the substance, of course--a consignment of explosives had gone missing from an old armoury and he'd been thoroughly briefed on the situation by General Worset. The armoury had been forgotten, hidden in the basement of a government building in Bogota; it had only been discovered when an alarm had tripped by someone forcing the door. By the time the police arrived, a lot of the arms, ammunition and explosives--most of which had been captured from rebels before the Colombian Government fell--had been stolen.

He could even see the red lettering and white sign on the bar itself. Moving very carefully, he started to wriggle out of his position, until his hands were free. Every movement was an explosion of pain but the Administrator forced himself to keep at it. After he'd got his hands free, he carefully pushed the C4 across then around until it was on top of the dead bodyguard. Once it was secure, he braced his hands against the edge of the door and pulled against it, feeling his body move as he wriggled desperately.

Suddenly, it was much loser. With one final heave his torso was out of the door and he had to bite down on his lip until it bled to stop himself from screaming in agony. He lay there for a moment, panting from the exertion, then slowly moved his body until he was face down and pulled himself, inch by inch, out of the vehicle.

He was free! Also, he was completely unarmed next to a vehicle that was rigged with C4. He blinked a few times to try to focus his blurry eyes and looked around. He could see a lot of fire on either side of him--he remembered the rocket hitting the humvee in front of him. Shuddering, he looked in front of him--the jungle loomed, its depths pitch black and safe. There were four meters from his position on the ground and the jungle.

Bleeding fatally, exhausted and grimly holding onto life, Administrator Gregorio began to crawl to safety.

***

Valesco climbed into the fake vehicle and waited whilst the others climbed in. He had informed de Ballesteros that the other geurilla was dead from the bodyguards' last stand; a bullet had caught him in the neck. De Ballesteros had nodded grimly and said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Domingo entered and sat in the middle of the backseat, holding the remote detonation trigger in his lap. The two Rathani agents sat on either side and de Ballesteros got in at the passenger side, next to Valesco.

"Drive," he ordered.

Valesco nodded, pulled the vehicle into gear and with a roar of the engine, floored the accelerator as much as he dared. The vehicle sped along the path, leaving behind the scene of carnage.

Behind him, Domingo dreamily activated the trigger.

***

The explosion was vast. The vehicle rose into the air from the force of it and seemed to pull apart at the seems. The Administrator shut his eyes tightly but the red-white glow of the explosion was seared into his vision.

He'd been lucky, he realised. On that side of the track the ground fell away sharply through the tree line. When he'd reached it and crawled into the undergrowth he suddenly found himself falling down a slope. He had screamed, then--and the vehicle exploded.

He lay where he came to a stop, amongst the dirt and deal leaves, hoping his eyes would adjust to the darkness. There'd be rescuers soon, CAF and Colombian Army units combing the area, from the ground and the sky. They'd find him. All he had to do was stay alive.

He reached into his trouser pocket awkwardly and pulled out his wallet. Blindly, he opened it and gently carressed the transparent plastic side of it--the picture of his wife, there but unseen. Oh Llarina, I'm so sorry...

The explosion had died down now... so he heard the soft footfalls coming towards him in the darkness.

***

The site of the ambush was still for a moment, lit brightly with the flames of the burning wreckage. Then, like ghosts, soldiers appeared from the treeline on either side; five of them, melting from the jungle.

Milana picked her way through the scene whilst the others formed a perimeter. The geurillas had done a thorough job, no-one left alive. She'd been impressed as she watched it from behind the geurillas positions. Although Domingo's cue had been cut by the young geurilla who'd died. That shot had come from one of her operatives--the Chimaean soldiers guarding the bunker up ahead might notice an extra passenger in the fake vehicle.

She unclipped a small device from her belt and studied it, frowning. A red light blinked under an amber LED screen showing some numbers. She signalled to an operative and he came over to her.

"Let's finish off our brave Administrator. There's nothing more to see here. Is the jamming signal on?"

"Yes, sir. The guards at the base are now cut off."

"Good."

Unhurriedly, Milana walked over to the opposite treeline, and looked down the slope. Her night vision spotted the Administrator lying at the bottom of the small slope, moving occassionally. She smiled and carefully made her way down to him.

As he approached, she heard his voice weakly. "Who's... there?"

She took off her visor and helmet, then took a battered metal cigarette lighter out of her pocket and flicked the lid open near her face. She pulled a cigar out of a pocket, lit it, then sat down companionably beside the Administrator.

"Hello Caton. It's so nice to meet you at last."

"You... seem... to have... me at a disadvantage."

Milana chuckled, pulled out a glow stick from her belt and broke it open. The bright red light illuminated the surroundings and she placed the stick beside her. "There now, you can see me better. You've been shot in the stomach. You're bleeding to death, trust me, you don't want to know the medical details. I'd say you have about ten minutes to live, plenty of time for a medevac to arrive, stabilise you and get you to surgery where they can save your life."

The Administrator looked fearfully up her her.

"Ah. No stupid hope or heroics, I like that in my men. You don't smoke, right? Have a cigar and start now."

She carefully inserted the cigar into his mouth, leaning his upper body on her's. He took a drag of the cigar and she held it out to allow him to cough. Blood trickled down his chin.

"Yeah, this stuff will kill you, I'm afraid. Now, I'm sure you know you're going to die quickly. I don't particular have anything against you, but them's the breaks. It's a tough life out here in the jungle, eh? Right now my men are planting some evidence up there for our good friend the General to find and be mad at. He does mad so well, doesn't he? He's truly magnificient when he's angry. If he knew the truth, he would kill me.

"If it's any consolation, the people who attacked you--Colombian geurillas supported by Rathani agents--will soon be dead. I know I'd like to know that if I were you." she paused and allowed him another drag of the cigar. It was laced with marijuana; Milana had figured he might as well feel a bit numb before heading to meet his maker. "Your wife will be ok, in the long run. She has the best psychiatrists and support she could ever find, and she won't have to ever work to earn a living. That's my personal guarantee to you. As for Colombia... well, things will unfold as they are meant to. Your death is a wonderful catalyst."

The tiny speaker in her ear came alive. "We're ready, sir."

"Ah. Our time together has come to an end... an all-too-brief meeting, I'm afraid. Come on, up you get..." Milana helped him onto his knees, where he remained, swaying slightly. His eyes were open, staring at the picture of his wife that had fallen out of his wallet to land on the ground in front of him.

Milana stood and drew her pistol; a Colombian-issue silenced 9mm. She gently pressed the barrel against the back of the Administrator's head.

A last cigar, hands cuffed behind him, a bullet to the back of his head. Not an attack, an assassination. An execution.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I really am."

"Me... too..."

She squeezed the trigger. The Administrator jerked roughly forward and fell lifelessly to the ground over the picture of his wife.

***

Along the track, the fake vehicle neared the bunker...

Armonia Columbia

As they drove along in the vehicle, Sargent Benodecia and Capitan Chavez both removed their standard issue military prayer crosses and began to pray fervishly in Latin. De Ballesteros and the other men looked at them strangely for a minute, but decided not to say anything. After about five minutes of praying, the two agents said "amen" at the same time and made the symbol of the cross on their chests. Capitan Chavez looked at De Ballesteros for a minute.

"The prayer of the Inquisition.... It's common practice to say it before, and even during, missions.... If we die, we die in a right relationship with the Triune God." He said to De Ballasteros with a smirk as he put his cross back over his head. "An Inquisition tradition since its conception under the rule of Saint Androphine, the successor of Saint Alexander himself." He added softly.

"What does the prayer involve?" De Ballesteros asked with false interest.

"We pray for our souls as well as for the souls of those we are forced to kill... In this case, we prayed that the Administrator and his men were believers in the one, true faith.." Chavez humored. "But let's focus on the here and now...." Chavez added as he checked his pack for his all important unmarked pill bottle.

St. Alexander City- Opera house

The Holy Emperor sat alone at the latest Opera being put on at the St. Alexander City Opera House. The only other people that were with him were his bodygaurds. His sisters had the flu and his Mother stayed home to take care of them.... Pitty, really, this was an especally good one.

"Brothers and sisters in Christ, we will now have a 15 minute intermission." The director said to the crowd after a duet sang.

No sooner after the Holy Emperor stood up, was he met by the eyes of Mathias Olivegrove.

"I'd like to show you something..... Right now." Olivegrove almost ordered.

"Okay.... This better be good though, this is the best one they've put on all year." Lucius responded as he followed Olivegrove.

The two went down a few halls in the Opera house, to places that the normal populace weren't allowed to enter. Eventually they came to a door that said "Security" and entered in. Inside were computer screens for all the security cameras and two low level police officers watching it. As soon as the officers saw the two, they stood up fearfully and salluted.

"Take a 10 minute break you two." Olivegrove barked as he pointed his thumb towards the door.

"Y-y-y-y-y-yes s-s-s-s-ir." The two officers said as they scrambled out the door.

"Yes, Mathias, I've seen a security room before." Lucius remarked as he looked at his wrist watch.

"Just wait." Mathias said as he turned on the small television that was in the room and turned it to an international news channel. "I don't want the Holy Imperial News Network for this one." Mathias remarked.

"Yes, we have confirmed that there have been numerous attacks throughout the nation of Columbia tonight." The Reporter said. "Our scources claim that the attacks were most likely caused by geurillas who were believed to be whiped out by the CAF years ago, but these attacks obviously say otherwise. She continued. As she was about to open her mouth again, Mathias shut off the TV.

"Those are our agents and the geurillas.... I told you they'd strike soon and strike hard..... Columbia, at least for the moment, is in utter chaos." Mathias said.

"Any word yet if they got the primary target?" Lucius asked after a moment of silence.

"None. Though evidence seems to suggest that they did.... The news service did say that the Administrator wasn't accounted for yet." Mathias responded. "But only time will tell.... But I'll tell you one thing, Chavez and Benodecia aren't rookie agents... ESPECALLY not Chavez." He remarked. "Benodecia is very good, but he has a bit of a record of policy breaking.... The only reason why I never dismissed him was because of his excellence and close attention to detail." He added.

"Very good Mathias, I suppose that was worth my time.... And I have 4 minutes to get back to my seat before it starts again... Keep me well informed." The Holy Emperor said as he turned to leave. "By the way, Mathias.... How are you going to address Ashlavar?" He asked suddenly.

"My eyes are on them even more than before.... Trust me, Ashlavar's folder has grown from being thinner than an anorexic teenager to fatter than a Christmas goose." Mathias remarked with a smirk. "I'll brief you entirely on that sometime soon." He stated.

"Very well.... How about tomorrow?" Lucius asked.

"Tomorrow is fine." Mathias responded.

"Alright then, tomorrow it is..... Good night, Mathias." Lucius stated as he bolted out the door towards his box seat....

Armonía, Bunker

Captain O'Daly peered into the pitch darkness beyond the harsh glare of the criss-crossing spotlights which illuminated the entrance to the bunker. The bunker had been built from the remains of an older, shabbily-built bunker used for storing arms, probably of FARC origin. It had been expanded and reinforced, reaching four levels underground and able to withstand a direct hit from most bombs. Around it was a high, double-layered perimeter fence with coild of barbed wire on top and throughout the chain-metal. The fence, apart from at the single gate, was electrified and linked to an alarm system.

All of this didn't make O'Daly feel much better. The bunker was meant to have automated defence systems installed on top and around it--ground-to-air and anti-missile systems were supposed to have been installed a week ago. For some reason, the usually quick armaments department hadn't got around to it.

He'd posted the usual sentries around the bunker and doubled the guard when he heard what had occurred at the rally. The communications equipment had suddenly failed, too, on top of everything else. The only tech in the squad had muttered something about jamming and taken a lot of the comms equipment apart.

So much for state-of-the-art.

When he heard the explosions in the distance, he'd known something had gone banana-shaped. He'd joined the men at the gate as they cautiously watched the road from behind sandbagged forward positions.

"Vehicle approaching, sir," the comms unit in his ear came alive. "Giving off the Administrator's signal."

"Roger that." he unshouldered his CR66 and looked up the road through it's nightvision scope. He could already hear the strained engine of a powerful vehicle moving fast.

The Administrator's vehicle came into sight, slowing down as they neared the bunker entrance. He switched to heat vision and made out the five figures sitting inside it through the hazy of the engine.

The vehicle came into the glare of the spotlights. It looked like it had been pretty banged up--there were bullet holes around the back and sides and a few at the front. A miracle that none of the bullets had penetrated the engine. O'Daly nodded to one of the sentries who jogged up the path a little, holding up his hand as a signal for the vehicle to stop, which it did. The sentry went around the side and spoke briefly to the driver, then waved the vehicle on.

O'Daly relaxed a little and watched the vehicle manouever between the sandbagged positions. It reached the gate and was checked again, then hurried through. The gate reported that the Administrator had been hit and was being rushed to the medbay. O'Daly tensed again. He was really going to cop it if the wretched man died in the bunker.

***

There were a few relived murmurs and grins as they drove passed the sentries and the gate into the sloping ramp of the bunker. Already, two uniformed men were heading their way, a stretcher between them.

Domingo was lifted out by de Ballesteros and a Rathani agent and placed on the stretcher, where he lay curled up, feigning intense pain. When one of the men tried to remove his oversized helmet de Ballesteros sharply told them off, telling them the Administrator had a head wound.

Still, it was amazing the way they hadn't been caught out. De Ballesteros kept expecting someone to notice some minor detail that would give them away... or some major one, such as the Administrator not looking like the Administrator. Grabbing his rifle, De Ballesteros followed the stretcher party into the lift.

The medbay was on the fourth floor. The group stood silently in the lift, hoping the two soldiers carrying the stretcher wouldn't get too inquisitive. After what seemed an age, the lift finally clanked to a stop, the doors opened and they rushed through coridors and storage areas until they reached the medbay, a cramped operating theatre/convalescing area. The theatre was closed off by a frosted glass partition.

A female medic in combat fatigues rushed up the de Ballesteros. "What happened?" she asked as she donned her scrubs and mask for surgery.

"Firefight. The Administrator recieved a gut wound and a head wound."

"Shit," she muttered and strode into the operating theatre, where the stretcher bearers had placed Domingo onto the operating table. De Ballesteros followed her in with the Rathani agents, leaving Valesco outside to prevent anyone coming in.

The door to the room clicked shut. The Rathani agents took position behind the stretcher bearers, and with a nod of readiness from de Ballesteros, flicked out the knives and expertly slit their throats. De Ballesteros plunged his kbar into the side of the Medic's neck, holding her mouth closed with one hand.

They lowered the bodies onto the floor. De Ballesteros opened the door a fraction to call Valesco in but there was no sign of the man, apart from the pocket radio he always carried with him. Frowning, he opened the door wider and picked up the radio.

It was switched on, but only a faint hiss of static came out. Shaking his head, de Ballesteros switched it off and pocketed it, ducking back into the operating theatre.

***

When Valesco stepped back out of the bunker, blinking in the harsh spotlights which tore through the night, O'Daly and the sentries were all dead.

He picked his way gingerly through the corpses, along the empty sandbagged positions and out into the road, where a lone figure waited for him. As he approached, Milana stepped into the light.

He leered at her. "It's done, mujer hermosa. It worked like a charm. So do I get to fuck you, now?"

Milana smiled sweetly. "Guess again," she said and shot him.

One of the operatives joined her on the road. "Whenever you're ready."

***

La Muerte Hermosa, Amazonas, Colombia

It was the work of moments for the three operatives to secure the village. The sniper silently picked off the armed guards and all three made their way into the quiet, sleeping village, moving from house to house. The soft, metallic phut of silenced pistols broke the still air as they methodically went about their grisly task.

Men, women, children... all were carefully dispatched from the realm of the living.

There was mild resistance when the village began to realise something was wrong. By that time, however, it was far too late. The few remaining villagers who'd put up a fight were expertly rounded up and killed.

Charges were placed around the village, ringing and criss-crossing it. Then the three men left into the night as silently as they had come.

When the charges went off, they created a spectacular display of deadly pyrotechnics, burning the village to the ground.

But there was no-one left alive to see it.

***

Armonía, Bunker

Domingo froze. "That beeping... what's that beeping?"

One of the Rathani agents looked up and the group fell silently. Very softly, a beeping could be heard coming from de Ballesteros. He stared around in confusion, then delved into his pocket and pulled out Valesco's radio.

"It's this blasted radio. Valesco left it on the floor, beats me where he's ended up... I can't seem to get it to switch off."

Domingo took it off him and studied it curiously. De Ballesteros turned to the Rathani agents. "I don't suppose--"

"Shit!" Domingo swore loudly. As they turned to look at him, he held up the radio. "It's not a radio, it's a tracker. Something's tracking us."

All four of them froze as they reached the same conclusion. De Ballesteros snatched up his gun, but Domingo was already voicing what had occured to them. "It's attached to a wireless detonator..."

"That fucking rat!" de Ballesteros raged, rushing out of the door, "He's sold us out--"

***

"Now." Milana said, leaning against a tree trunk. The operative pressed a button on the device he was holding.

The world turned bright with flame as floor after floor of the bunker was destroyed by the incendiary bombs that had been hidden there.

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

OOC: just insert your character's actions in with the action, I guess :)

Armonía, Bunker

Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodecia hit the floor immediately.

"There is nothing I hate more, De Ballasteros, then allowing traitors to enter your midst... Congradulations.... You're an utter failure." Chavez growled as he gave a menacing sneer to De Ballasteros. "Sargent, you know what to do." Chavez added as he took out his pill container. As soon as he opened it up, another bomb rocked the building, causing the container to fall out of his hands... Scattering the pills everywhere.

"Dammit!" He yelled.

"Sir! Take mine!" Benodecia offered as he took out his bottle. "May God forgive us both for our sins." He added.

Chavez took the bottle with a wary look. "What about you?" He asked hesitantly.

"I've got some shots left in my pistol, sir. You use the pills." Benodecia said as he cocked his pistol.

Chavez noded and downed the pills quickly. As soon as he did it, there was a sudden gunshot, Benodecia lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood, he shot himself through the mouth.

Quickly, Chavez began to yelp in pain as his muscles began to twitch to no end. It ended quickly, however, as his body quit twitching and suddenly lay very still.... Greenish siliva now flowing freely from his mouth.

Capitan Chavez and Sargent Benodecia were now both dead.

((I know we haven't had the firefight yet, but the moment they found out they've been ratted out.... Their opinions of De Ballastero's competency plummeted, and as such, saw no reason to continue when dead closed in around them.... Plus, I think it would make this all more interesting.))

Somewhere in Colombia

The village woke up slowly as the early golden rays of the morning sun glinted on the banks of the jungle river. It was Sunday, and many of the villagers were crowding into the church, with only one guard standing on the wooden quay, more interested in the two or three poor women doing their laundry in the river water then he was in his new AK-47.

The variety of wooden fishing boats tied to the quay moved slightly at their tethers, pulled and pushed by the calm stream. Birds sang – and even the military-looking swift-boat approaching down the river seemed happy and joly. It's sides were draped over by bright cloth in different colors, and a young girl sat on the prow, hugging what seemd to be a baby and smiling at him with steel-brace covered teeth. On the aft, a heavily-built man sat, playing a guitar. These didn't seem too mean...

The boat approached, and the girl waved to the guard. Then, she returned to cuddling the baby, and, it seemed, was abou to unwrap it to change its diapers. Wait... what is that steel bit on her teeth? She's not local! And that baby is too big...”

The CAR-15 roared alive, the guard's shirt exploding as the rounds tore several holes in his body. He twitched, falling, as the boat approached evne clother. Two more – a man and a woman- ran out to the deck, ripping off the cloth- and uncovering bleached-white balls decorating the prow and size of the ship.

Human skulls.

A strange flag flew to the masthead, just as the girl gulped down something – a meth pill – and leaped from boat to boat and to the quay. Somewhere inside the boat, an assault stereo roared alive, shaking the village with music so loud that when the leather-clad bikers opened on the laundry women with their rifles, the sound was almost inaudible.

Not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
Not gonna get us
Not gonna get us

The Team Leader was now on deck, and the crew was almost all ashore- except for two left behind to guard the boat – and the two that were dead, killed by Rumbiak Brigade guerillas long ago. Now was payback time.

The doors of the poor rural church opened, the parson looking to find out who was that playing that loud music and disturbing his mass. Two rifles and the Team Leaders FN-MAG hit him at the same time, throwing his bloody, broken body back among his followers.

Starting from here, let's make a promise
You and me, let's just be honest
We're gonna run, nothing can stop us
Even the night that falls all around us

Seconds later, the biker couple passed by the church on their bike/sidecar combo,, firing their battle rifles in through the flimsy walls, armor piercing projectiles tearing through bamboo and body alike, the screams of pain drowned by the continued roar of the loudspeakers. The skinhead guitarist chuckled as he tossed two large grenades at what looked like a barn filled with the village's food stocks. The white phosphorus grenades lit up, and the thatch-covered roof took up with them. This was going to be a bad winter for whoever made it – if anybody did.

From the small huts – and the church – people began to appear, wielding pitchforks, hunting rifles, AK's, and so forth. Some wore the Rumbiak insignia, others were simply angry villagers. Boris and Sandy – the biker and his wife – ran one of them down with their sidecar, dragging him screaming and cursing behind them until his arm literally snapped off at the wrist and he fell, yelling in pain The skinhead laughed maniacally, waving his Thompson haphazardly, the rain of hollowpoints cutting down villagers like the crops they were so used to harvesting.

Behind him, Team Leader did the same, and the five of them went thorugh the lines of the living like angels of death – not feeling pain, not feeling fear, faster then their attackers, and never tiring. The drugs did their job well. Sandy was hit twice with birdshot, and blood poured down her leather shirt – and still, she fought on. After hit at a third time, she leaped from her vehicle, grabbing onto a Rumbiak guerilla with her bare hands, then tearing his throat open with her teeth. She was still clinging to his body as several more round hit her, stopping her forever.

Soon there will be laughter and voices
Beyond the clouds over the mountains
We'll run away on roads that are empty
Lights from the airfield shining upon you

Nothing can stop this, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us,
they're not gonna get us
Nothing can stop this, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us,
they're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us

Boris Kernzov, her husband, came between the two Rumbiak brigade soldiers, firing both handguns at once, shoowing them with ease – and then back at the church entrance, firing the hideously oversized guns at two churchgoers that tried to exit. Now, whatever villagers that were unarmed were huddling in a scared crowd in the middle of the church building... right as the skinhead came in there, slashing right and left with a large combat chainsaw, blood splattering on his face and clothing.

Ashley walked between the houses, smiling mildly. Her steel braces glinted in the morning sun. She used to be sickened by the atrocities she was told to commit. Not anymore. She grew accustomed to the violence. The Girl Scout upbringing, the dozens of violent movies she had seen – some in school – and the drugs helped, a lot. A woman ran out of a house in front of her. She did not even hear her own gun rattle away as she emptied an entire magazine into the woman's stomach.

Not gonna get us
Not gonna get us

We'll run away, keep everything simple
Night will come down, our guardian angel
We rush ahead, the crossroads are empty
Our spirits rise, they're not gonna get us

Something moved behind her. She turned around – and saw two villagers, raising their weapons. Her gun.. was empty. Her comrades were too busy to defend her. She backed away, beginning the first words of a prayer to Sirithil in her heart.

“The Lady's Coin, it nourishes me. The Lady's Sword, it protects me. And the Lady Sirithil guards the Broker in Her Markets, and She guards the Warrior in Her fields of battle, and Her Grace lasts for thirty millenia and will last for eternity, for She is Lady Sirithil, and her Grace is...[/i]

As the guerillas drew their breath, the unexpected happened. Timmy, her classmate, who was left guarding the boat, leaped ashore, running into the midst of battle. One of the communists screamed as his kneecap exploded, hit with a rifle round. The other turned around – but too late, as Timmy's rifle spat fire, thrice.

“Get to the boat! It's all over!” - he screamed, his lips moving with no apparent sound under the roar of the music. From the church, there no screams anymore. The job was done, and the parish was reduced to a gory pile of bodies, and burning huts. In the church, blood on the walls spelt out the slogan of the Ashtonbury Brigade. Rumbiak is Dead – Ashtonbury Lives.

But those few who survived assembled for a counterassault. Kernzov retreated with his bike, scooping up his wife's body. He was already aboard the board, when severl rounds cut him down. He dropped Sandy, and drew the Desert Eagles one more time, laying down a wave of fire as his jaw suddenly exploded. He fell to the deck.

Timmy and Ashley were the last to get on the boat. As the boat turned around and sped away from the quay, the team gave the survivors one last blast of fire, and the “Adam Smith” sped away from the deck. Timmy saw Ashley's lips move, he guessed the meaning. Why did you leave post for me?.

She still wore those thick glasses and braces – and probably never heard, and never expected to hear – those words from any boy in her school. She guessed them anyway. Timothy Green's lips moved, and even despite the roar of the fire ashore, and the fact she was almost standing on an Allanean assault loudspeaker, she knew what he said. Her face, splattered with the blood of her victims, broke into an innocent, girlish smile as he kissed her – right there, on the deck, with the dead bodies of their comrades and the bloody heads of their enemies that the others had brought back.

The team applauded – without audible sound – as the burning village disappeared behind te river bend.

My love for you, always forever
Just you and me, all else is nothing
Not going back, not going back there
They don't understand,
They don't understand us

Not gonna get us
Not gonna get us


Nothing can stop this, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us,
they're not gonna get us
Nothing can stop this, not now I love you
They're not gonna get us,
they're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us
They're not gonna get us

OOC Explanation: This is a generic sample of what the Allanean Volunteers – the Ashtonbury Brigade are doing in the Colombian jungle. They're mean, lean, not backed in any way by the Allanean government, and they are few in number, so their influence would be more psychological rather then military. Done with agreement with the Chimaean player.

New Sydney Times Article: Chimaea's Heart of Darkness: The Colombian Story (http://chimaea.crforums.net/report5.doc)

It's in a Word document for full effect :)

The Grand House of Baron

"The Ambassador from the Holy Empire of Rathanan is recognized." The President said.

Ambassador Haupsburg stood up slowly, he was getting over a bad case of the flu, but he had to come into work today, at least, to give this speech. He coughed and cleared his throat before he spoke. "Thank you Mr. President." He opened with a raspy voice. "As you can all see, I'm quite sick today, so bear with me." He added looking at his fellow Ambassadors. "Mr. President, I would like to open today's proceedings with a moment of silence due to the attacks in Columbia." He said as he bowed his head and folded his hands, the other Ambassadors eyed him for a minute, but followed suit. A few minutes later he lifted his head up. "Thank you everyone, it's truely a tragedy that such a thing happened in a place that held so much promise." He stated.

"Now, on to business, I would like to point out that, even though the talks between our leaders went sour, the POW exchange between Chimaea and my nation was still agreed to and must take place soon." He said with a few coughs. "There's been too big of a beurocratic mess in all of this and I feel that it must end, we must make the exchange VERY soon." He added as he put a cough drop into his mouth.

"That's all I had today and I yield the ballance of my time to the chair." Ambassador Haupsburg said as he picked up his briefcase and headed for the door, coughing as he went.

The Holy Imperial Palace

"So, in your mind, Mathias, was Operation Red Tape a success? Or a failure? Or even a dismal failure?" The Holy Emperor asked the High Inquisitor.

"Well, Lucius, if you ask me I say it was almost 100% a success." Mathias answered as he pulled out a the Chimaea newspaper (from above). "The place is in almost utter chaos and the Columbian people lose faith in the Chimaeans, remember, it was never truely our goal to put the geurillas back into power." He added. "I say 'almost 100%' because our two agents are undoubtably dead." He remarked.

"Well, then good, overall..." Lucius said after a small pause. "So how about that legal savvy agent I asked for? Do you in the Inquisition have anyone trained as Lawyers?" He asked.

"Well, we have a few, but only one would I bring before you without reservation." Mathias answered as he took out a folder. "Lieutenut Colonel Marcus Alleagheri." He added as he opened the folder. Inside, there was a picture of an aging man in a full Class-A Inquisition Officer's uniform and numerous papers. "Educated in law at the University of the Holy Inquisition in St. Andrew City, went to law school in the University of Helivmar City in the Federal Republic of Ashlavar with the blessings of your grandfather, Holy Emperor Marcus Calidan." Mathias read. "Fluent in over 6 languages, not including our native languages, including German, Spanish, Russian, French, Mandarin, and Portugese." He continued to read. "Alleagheri is currently working as the top overseer of POW Camp #2 in southeast Rathanan." He added. "First class choice if you ask me... If you want, I can get him up here by tomorrow to be briefed." He said as he looked up from the file.

"Well, first, get Calvictis to contact Chimaea and ask them if it's okay for him to arrive, I also want a forensic scientist to go with him, I know you have plenty of those." The Holy Emperor remarked. "As soon as we get word from Chimaea, we'll begin, but until then, keep him at his post." He added.

"Of course, Lucius, good idea." Mathias answered as he got up from the table they were sitting at. "Have a nice day." He added as he exited the room.

Lucius stood there for a minute, but also left the room soon after. He knew it was going to be a big mess to get this done.

Handersburg, New Heidelburg - Western Ashlavar

Sebastian Eisenburg sat on a bench looking over a newspaper he had found abandoned on the street that day. Sebastian was an elderly man who had just retired from his blue collar job in gun factory. He had saved enough money to keep his apartment and buy food, though not much more. He spent his time in the Handersburg Park feeding the pidgeons and reading newspapers. As he read his newspaper he noticed a young man dressed in a suit and tie mumbling to himself.

"Got something on your mind, sir?" Sebastian asked the grumpy looking man.

The man looked at Sebastians rather dirty clothes with disgust for a minute, but sighed. "Nothing really, just these politics are really strange.... I've been a Progressive all my life, but now that I'm thinking about it, President Fulda's new policies are looking quite attractive... I'm thinking of voting C-L next election." He said as he warily sat down next to Sebastian.

Sebastian eyed the man for a minute. "So what? You're young! That's nothing to be angry about! Look at you! You're dressed to the nines and you're complaining about politics? You young professionals are all the same.... Progressive at first, trying to help us 'little' people, then you turn C-L a few years later and completely forget about reforming Ashlavar!" Sebastian growled back.

"I'm sorry sir, it just doesn't make much sence.. My entire family is Progressive, the state of New Heidelburg is won by the progressives in almost every election, so I really don't want to stick out.." The man muttered.

"Well, you have a point there, times are a'changin.... I grew up in New Heidelburg, dropped out of High School to work for Hattenburg & Niderstein firearms where I worked for 60 years... In all that time, I haven't seen any real changes.... From the Federal Government, anyway." Sebastian responded as he looked up at one of the skyscrapers shadowing the park bench that he sat in. "Fulda has been President for 3 terms now and he was nothing but your typical C-L until now... Strong? Yes. Exceptional in his own way? By all means, but he still was viciously pro-small government..... Until these recent months." Sebastian added as he coughed a bit. "One must wonder what is going on there..." He remarked.

((Added this to kind of introduce the thoughts of the Ashlan people about all this.))

Presidental Mannor - Hevlimar City, Ashlavar

President Fulda puffed on a cigar and smirked as he listened to his Secretary of Defence and Secretary of State yammer at each other as to how to handle the situation if Chimaea and Rathanan ever got smart about their plans.

"We need to start calling in our reservers and begin active recruiting campagins! As well as defence strategies!" The Secretary of Defence bellowed.

"Nonsence! They aren't the Mongol Hordes! We can negotitate with them! Find a peaceful solution! Even lie to the idiots!" The Secretary of State responded quickly.

They were both cut off by the laughing of the President. "See? This is why I hate dealing with you beurocratic nutjobs!" He said as he laughed, almost choking on the smoke of his own cigar. "The solution is quite simple.... There's an old African proverb that says 'speak softly and carry a big stick'." He stated, regaining his composure.

"What's your point, Mr. President?" The Secretary of Defence asked.

"Well, we try and fool them more while we quietly prepare our armies for war... Yes, it's true that Chimaea and Rathanan could cream us in a war... Although they do know we have nuclear capibilities.... But I highly doubt they'll jump to war." The President said. "How is Chimaea going to make a case to go to war with a heavily isolationist and heavily democratic nation? The Bryce Administration is already under heavy flak over the Rathanan ordeal.... Anything else like that and she's finished." He remarked bluntly.

"But what about Rathanan? They're called the 'Holy Empire' for a reason, you know." The Defence Secretary argued.

"Oh phewy, they got that title when Shakespeare prancing around writing his plays..... They take great pride in the name, but in the end, that's really all it is... A name.... They still anex countries they defeat, yes, but they haven't defeated a country in ages!" The President shot back. "Rathanan, quite frankly, needs allies right now... If they attack us, they lose what allies they have as well as their credibility to get more allies."

The Secretaries remained quiet for a minute, slightly shocked.

"There's not going to be a debate about this.... We lie more if we get in trouble.... We find a scapegoat... It's simple. There's no danger whatsoever of war.. Both sides have everything to lose and nothing to gain from it." The President added to his arguements. "Now get your fat, beurocratic asses out of my office!" President Fulda said as he pointed to the door.

The Secretaries got up, grumbling to themselves and glaring at one another.... They both knew the President was probably right.... Again.

The Governor's plane touched down on the runway of the main airport at Armonía, which had been secured by CAF for the event. The media contingent allowed into the main terminal was rewarded by a brief smile by Lady Bryce as she was bustled away by openly armed bodyguards into a waiting limousine.

She relaxed as best she could inside the car as it sped through the deserted city streets. Even through the sound proofing, she could hear the thudding of rotors above them as helicopters kept pace with her convoy. Security wasn't being left to chance.

Across from her, General Worset sat tensely, his face set grimly as he updated her on the recent events. "We've already secured most of Chimaean Colombia. Most of the major cities are on lockdown, martial law is in full effect."

Lady Bryce glanced distractedly out of the window. "Do what you feel is necessary, General."

"My lady?"

She sighed and glared at him. "I have to comfort a widow who's husband..." she shook her head and looked away again.

General Worset nodded sympathetically. "We'll catch the rest of them, Governor. Count on it."

Lady Bryce looked distantly at him. "No," she muttered to herself, "You won't."

The rest of the journey was completed in silence.

***

Llarina Gregorio was sitting on a chair in front of a tall, arched window. The bright sunlight streamed into the room but did little to lighten the sombre mood of the oak panelled walls or the dusty polished floor.

Lady Bryce slipped through the door and paused at the threshold, watching the woman. She was unmoving, the only sign of life the lifting of her chest as she breathed. The sunlight haloed her hair in bright white, flattening the contours of her face.

"Llarina?" she said cautiously. When she didn't reply, Lady Bryce walked up to stand beside the chair. She realised with a start that Llarina's collar was wet with tears but the woman appeared to be in shock, her eyes glazed. Lady Bryce was all too familiar with that look.

She knelt down in front of the chair, leaned forwards and grasped the sides of Llarina's face. "Look at me."

Llarina blinked.

"There will be time for tears later. You're at a crossroads now... you can either sit here forever, wrapped in your grief, or you can go on living. What would Caton have wanted?"

Llarina spoke for the first time, her voice faint and hoarse. "There's no life without him..."

Lady Bryce wanted to shake her head in her hands, but kept her grip firm. "You're wrong. You think it's the end but life goes on and unless you go along with it, there will be no end to your suffering. That wouldn't have been what Caton would have wanted for you."

When Llarina didn't reply, she stood with a sigh and started to move away.

"What would I do?"

Lady Bryce looked back at her, her eyes in shadow. "What do you think?"

The two women looked at each other mutely, while the sunlight blazed through the window.

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

Edit: more later. Sorry I haven't posted much, I simply don't have the time... drowning in assignments.

Baron Island, Chimaean Diplomatic Quarters

When Sir Irwing opened the door of the Ambassadorial Suite, he knew immediately who would be waiting for him. He ignored the feeling and the slight lingering waft of her perfume (Gods that perfume...) and shrugged off his coat. As he loosened his tie, he poured himself a splash of brandy, straight, and knocked it back. The liquid burned into his stomach and he winced, remembering he hadn't eaten since a hurried and early lunch.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then said quietly, "Where are you?"

"Here." Her voice was soft, hesitant--without the slightly mocking edge to it. He'd heard her speak like that before, when he held her to his chest and her tears had darkened his uniform.

He walked towards the sound of her voice. She was sitting on a couch, leaning forwards, her chin resting on her hands. She was wearing one of her usual red dresses but the silk looked shockingly creased, as if she'd forgotten to press it. Her gun lay on the coffee table, the dull metal on the spotless glass.

He stood there, not knowing what to do. She looked at him, her eyes shadowed. "What do you believe in?"

The question surprised him. "How do you mean?"

"Beyond the material world."

He considered this. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. No gods, no afterlife, no Hell." he sat down next to her, sinking into the soft leather.

"Nothing..." her lips shaped the word. "What happens when you take another life?"

Sir Irving considered. "A part of you dies," he said slowly, "And nothing is ever the same again."

"Hell on Earth?"

He sighed. "Could well be."

"One hundred and eighty-three. I have taken the lives of one hundred and eighty-three people. Sometimes I had no choice. Sometimes killing was the mission. Sometimes because I wanted to."

He looked away. "All in the name of king and country."

"That's right."

It was a moment before he realised she was crying. He reached over and touched her shoulder. The result was almost electric--she pulled on his arm, grabbing his collar, slamming him to the carpeted floor. It happened so fast he couldn't even yell out. She sat astride him, her hands around his neck, her eyed full of darkness and anger.

After a moment, she seemed to lose her strength and semi-collapsed on him, her head on his chest. He put his arms around her.

"Love me," she whispered.

***

Milana placed her hand on his chest as they lay naked together, the blanket lying half on the floor. "I can hear your heart, you know."

"What?"

"I can hear your heart. Boom, boom, boom. But I have to be close."

His eyes were drawn to the mutilated tips of her ears. She smiled at him. "Should I get that fixed?"

"It's up to you."

"I think so. I don't need the scars anymore." She gazed searchingly at him, her eyes pained but without the darkness. "I killed him, shot him point-blank at the back of the head. He didn't even resist it."

He watched her quietly.

"This was different, like nothing before. I felt... I felt I was doing the wrong thing. I haven't felt that in decades."

"You don't think this is right?"

"Do you?"

He considered for a while, then sighed. "Only in the Grand House."

She smiled humourlessly. "What are we going to do?"

"Our jobs," he replied matter-of-factly. "As always. And then... and then..."

"Happily ever after?"

He smiled. "I can live with that."

***

Grand House of Baron

Sir Irving stood and nodded to the Ambassadors. "In this time of grief for Chimaean and Chimaean Colombia, we are grateful for the messages of support and the condolences arriving from your nations. Llarina Gregorio, wife of the late Administrator, has asked me to give her personal thanks to you all.

"This brutal slaying will be thoroughly investigated--we will find the people who did this and bring them to justice, whatever it takes.

"As for the POW exchange, we will be carrying on with that to schedule.

"Thanks for your time."

POW Camp #2 - Southern Rathanan

Private Henderson looked down from the gaurd tower at the Chimaean POWs in the POW camp. Henderson adjusted his gun on his shoulder and muttered, when there was a knock on the floor door by him.

"Come." Henderson said.

The door opened and Private Viralla entered. Henderson and Viralla became good friends during the war, they had both fought in the battle of St. Cypher City and where resituated to POW Camp #2.

"Hey Henderson! Stuck with tower duty again?" Viralla said as he entered.

"How would you figure that? I mean, I'm just standing up here bored out of my mind, watching those Chimaea bastards rummaging around the main area.... I have no idea how I could POSSIBLY be on tower duty.." Henderson responded sarcastically.

"Ah, hey.... Buck up, it's Easter!" Viralla exclaimed as he gave Henderson a drink. "Drink up buddy, we all earned it!" He added.

Henderson took the drink with reservation. "The Colonel doesn't like us to drink on duty..." He said.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll make an exception on Easter! Just think.... Back home, our families are preparing monsterous feasts of ham or lamb!" Viralla exclamed.

"Yeah, and we're missing it because of these damn POWs.... Damn these rules of war, I'd prefer to shoot them all and be done with it... But the world doesn't work that way, does it?" Henderson remarked.

"Yeah, got those Geneva conventions and stuff.... Not to mention the 5th commandment says 'thou shalt not murder'" Viralla said.

The two privates talked and drank for awhile when a black car drove up to the gate of the camp.

"What the hell is this?" Henderson said, taking out his bonoculars and staring at the people exiting the car. "Whoa, that's the freaking High Inquisitor of the Inquisition!" Henderson exclaimed. "I recognize the uniform!"

"No way, let me see!" Viralla exclaimed as he snatched the bonoculars. "Whoa! It is him! He's knockin' on the door of the Colonel!" Viralla added.

Lieutenut Colonel Marcus Alleagheri's office

There was a knock at the door.

"Come." Marcus said softly.

The door swung open and numerous dark figures entered the room.

"Lieutenut Colonel Marcus Alleagheri..... You're just the man I need." ONe of the voices said.

Marcus recognized the voice, he had heard it in a speech. It was none other than the High Inquisitor of the Inquisiton himself. Marcus stood instantly at attention and saluted.

"At ease, Colonel." Mathias said stepping closer.

"What do you need from me this fine Easter Sunday, sir?" Marcus asked.

"You are trained heavily in law, correct?" Mathias said, sitting down before the Colonel.

"Yes, and, if you don't mind me saying.... It was the worst mistake I ever made, sir." Marcus said.

"Why's that? You don't like your current post?" Mathias asked with fake aggression.

"To be perfectly honest, sir, no, I don't." Marcus responded.

"Good! Then you'll be pleased to know that you have a new assignment.... An assignment that involves your rather extensive credentials in law." Mathias stated as he slid Marcus a folder. "You're expected to report to St. Alexander in one week... Major Mardis will be replacing you." He added.

Marcus took the folder as he tried to hide his joy. "Thank you sir!" He finally said as he saluted the High Inquisitor.

"Just don't disappoint me." Mathias responded as he and his entourage walked out of the building.

"God always has a way of blessing me on the day his son rose from the dead... Last year my wife survived cancer.... Year before that I managed to quit smoking..." Marcus said to himself as the door closed.

The Island of Baron

Ambassador Haupsburg sat with his family at the small tabel in his apartment. He couldn't go back to Rathanan, so his family came to him. His son had since gotten a fake leg and was honorably discharged from the Holy Imperial Army.

"Well, Helena, that was a wonderful Easter dinner.... As usual." Haupsburg said as he kissed his wife on the cheek.

"Ah, well, you always say that." His wife responded with a smile.

"Naw, he's right mom, this is a wonderful dinner.... But then again, I had gotten used to eating field rations." His son responded, laughing a bit.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that now..... Your part in the war is over.... However, my job is just beginning." Haupsburg responded. "By the way, are you still looking at a job in the Department of Diplomacy?" Haupsburg asked his son.

"Well, if you could help me out with that, that'd be great... Though I don't think I want to be an Ambassador... I've seen what that has done to you." His Son responded with a laugh.

"It's a trying job, yes.... But rewarding in it's own way." Haupsburg responded as he slapped his wallet. "I can talk to Minister Calvictis... Start you off as an intern, then you can possibly move up to the Embassies." Haupsburg added. "But first, you must start college, and the University of St. John the Baptist has sent you numerous good scollarship offers." He responded. "Absolutely brilliant Diplomacy and International Affairs programs there... Ambassador, or rather, former Ambassador Rochstein went there..." He added.

"Yes, well, we've all heard about his little outburst... That's not really good diplomacy." His son responded skeptically.

"Yes, well, Rochstein is the type of person that always has to be incharge... When he has a bad day and he feels like he's not in control... He'll flip out, but he was trained by the absolute best." Haupsburg remarked.

"Speaking of which, where is Victor now that he was fired?" His wife asked in a concerned tone.

"Last I heard he had a private sector job, sales agent for some military technology company." Haupsburg answered, knowing that he was lying to his own family.... Rochstein wasn't in the private sector.... He wasn't even really fired.... He was in a new apartment complex on Baron Island doctoring photographs with Agents Peter and Christof.....

((i'm going to bring more of this to light now that Columbia is done))

Presidental Manor - Hevlimar City, Ashlavar

President Fulda sat in his chair and watched the TV. It was late at night, but his mind was far too full of thoughts to sleep.

"Now for a limited time, enjoy our special offer, buy one and get one free!" A commercial for a store advertised.

President Fulda grumbled and shut off the TV. He rose from his seat to see his wife waiting for him silently.

"Coming to bed, dear?" She asked softly.

"In a bit, Celia..... I've got a lot on mind..." He responded to his wife.

Celia Vercelli Fulda was a Rathani immigrant. Her family had known the Calidan's for a long time and Lucius's father had given her premission to emigrate to Ashlavar to start her own business there roughly ten years before his death. Because she left with the blessings of the Rathani Holy Empire, she was allowed to visit her family at will and remain a member of the Holy Church of Rathanan. They had met each other at a business convention before Fulda had gotten into politics. Todd owned a arms manufacturing company and she owned a large Rathani Food resturant chain. The attraction was almost immediate. ((Rath and I thought this would put an interesting twist on it..... Give the president a bit of a bias due to his wife.))

"About the Rathanan-Chimaea situation? Honey, I understand your stance of neutrality.... Even if I want to see Chimaea burn in pillar of fire." His wife reponded as she rubed his shoulders.

"It's that and numerous other things..... I looks like Radasa is leaning more towards Chimaea at the moment..." He responded.

"Who cares? They're communists! Ashlavar and Rathanan have put them in their place numerous times..." His wife reassured him.

"I just don't want Ashlavar's forgein policy to unravel during my administration.... I don't want to be remembered as the President who dragged Ashlavar into the global scene!" The President said as downed a shot of whiskey.

"You'll figure it out, Todd.... You've been President of Ashlavar for many terms now. You've figured out problems in the past, and you'll do so again." Celia reassured again.

The President sighed and looked up at his wife.

"Now, are you coming to bed? Or not?" His wife asked as she smiled and ran her hand through his hair.

"Yes, I suppose I must." The President murmured as he followed his wife into their bedroom...

The House of Baron

Ambasador Johnston sorted through his papers as the other Ambassadors came into the room. In the Ashlan government, being an Ambassador to other nations was a deadbeat job. He greatly resented his job, but many remarked that he was good at it. Aside from that, it was a good place to start for anyone with an interest in politics. As the House settled down, the Ambassador made his move.

"The Ambassador from Ashlavar is recognized." The President said.

"Thank you Mr. President." The Ambassador opened. "I come before you all this fine summer morning to discuss a very important issue." The Ambassador said. "This very important issue has been dragged out far enough in our opinion, and must be resolved..... The POWs must be traded immediately." He said with emphasis. "It has been far to long for those who were merely fighting the war began by those in power.... Their families mourn and the soldiers suffer.... We request that we move on in Baron." Johnston appealed. "There has been regional turbulence before.... Weather it was between us and Radasa or Rathanan and Chimaea, we should overcome this and work together to achieve common goals." He added. "The solution shouldn't be to change each other's governments or to whipe each other out.... But to wrap up what has started and forget about it." He remarked. "Thank you and I yield the ballance of my time to the chair." He concluded.

((Posting on behalf of The People's Republic of Radasa))

Kiviska, Radasa: The People's Delegation Hall

Premier Petrov Tokarev walked into the Delegation Hall with the Communist Party cheering for him. The People's News Network had cameras situated around the room, all focused on him. Tokarev detested making speeches, but even more so, he detested the sniviling party members that he was addressing.

"Comrades of The People's Republic of Radasa, I come before you this day to reassure you." He began. "The capitalist dogs from Rathanan are being occupied with Chimaea, and the capitalist pigs from Ashlavar are working to save their precious neutrality." He remarked. "Therefore, do not fear, for today I have ordered that The People's Republic of Radasa shall back the Commonwealth of Chimaea in this conflict." He added. "Our military is strong and willing, our workers are productive and happy, and your government is ready to pass any legislation nessessary to beat back the Capitalists." He stated. "I thank you for your time and I ask that you go to work for our glorious nation today assured that we are looking out for your best interest." The Premier concluded.

After the speech, Premier Tokarev returned to his office and stared at the papers on his desk. "We have to be a bunch of damned fool to risk going to war with Rathanan or Ashlavar.... Our military is anything but strong and willing and our workers are anything but productive.... Though they are happy." He murmured to himself.

Premier Tokarev had been appointed to his office after Premier Zubov (the Premier appointed by Stalin himself after World War 2) had died of a sudden heart attack.

The Premier picked up the phone as he wrote his signature on a sheet of paper.

"Yes, Premier Tokarev?" The voice greeted.

"Yes, as the People's Head of Diplomacy, I want you to inform Ambassador Rykov of the new policy." The Premier ordered in his gruff voice.

"Yes, Premier Tokarev, it shall be do-" The Head of Diplomacy began to say, but was cut off by Tokarev hanging up the phone.

"Sniviling. Just like the rest of the Party." He growled as he rolled his eyes.

The House of Baron

After the heartfelt speech from the Ashlan Ambassador, Ambassador Alexei Rykov made his move.

"The Ambassador from Radasa is recognized." The President murmured.

"They you very much, Mr. President." He began calmly. "Let me just be frank that the policy of the People's Republic of Radasa is no true peace with capitalists.... Thus, your request will not be possible." He said, staring at the Ashlan Ambassador. "But on to the true thing I wished to announce." He disgressed. "The People's Republic of Radasa hereby endorses and stands behind The Commonwealth of Chimaea in this conflict!" He announced boldly. "The decision came from above today from Premier Tokarev himself." He said. "Thank you, and I yeild the ballance of my time to the chair." He said, nodding at the Chimaean Ambassador...

The House of Baron

Ambassador Haupsburg sat gleefully as the Radasi ambassador made the annoucement that they were backing Chimaea. This is exactly the break we needed. He thought to himself. Ashlavar and Radasa have hated each other for decades, this will certainly tip Ashlavar on our side.

After the Radasi ambassador had finished, Haupsburg rose to be recognized.

"We at the Holy Empire are greatly disappointed by Radasa's choice of allies simply because Chimaea has a more restrictive economic system." He said in a nonchallant way. "However, if for some reason Chimaea chooses to denouce this endorsement, the Holy Empire shall also recognize that." He added. "My collegue and friend from Ashlavar is right. Rathanan has been ready to move on, it's Chimaea who mounts further aggression." He stated. "Thank you, and I yield the ballance of my time to the chair." He concluded as he sat down, still smiling somewhat.

Holy Imperial Palace

The Holy Emperor looked over the minutes from the House of Baron and stared at the Minister of Diplomacy, Andreas Calvictis, for a minute.

"So you think this will bring Ashlavar on our side?" He asked.

"Most certainly." Minister Calvictis said. "Ashlavar and Radasa have hated each other for a long time... They've been to war once and have been on the brink of war ever since." He added. "Couple that with the fact that President Fulda's wife is from this very city... And we have a new ally." He remarked. "Chances are, they won't aid us directly.... They'll do it very underhandedly.... But unless Chimaea denounces this endorsement, Ashlavar won't have anything to do with them." He mentioned. "My Department has been working quickly to extend gestures of continued friendship with Ashlavar.... A meeting between you and their President might be nice as well." He added.

"Yes, I remember Celia alright... Good friends with my parents.... She still visits my mother from time to time." Lucius remarked. "Very well, Andreas, do what you feel is nessesary." Lucius said. "I promoted you because of your diplomatic ability. I trust this won't be a problem for you." He stated.

"Very well, Lucius. Have a nice evening." Minister Calvictis said as he turned to leave.

"Yes, I will have a nice evening.... This is very -very- good news." Lucius answered as he read over the minutes a few more times. "Very good news..."