NationStates Jolt Archive

United States of Allanea, Presidential Office.

“Umm. This is certainly a nice-sounding act, but why the hell is all this fuss?”

“Well, look at it this way, Mr. President. This Act will boost your chances... especially if you arrange for a photo-op with this guy, your approval rating will soar... and you really need it now. It's 45%, you know, and economic growth has hit 2% on the way down... this will help.”

“Look, the economy is down due to the anti-market policies of my predecess..”

“Excuse me, Mr. President, but the press are not going to see it that way...”

“True, that. I will sign the Act. Tell them to go through to a Senate vote. And get me my secretary.

To:sexyrebel@xtra.co.kn
From:Atchinson@whitehouse.gov.all
Subject: Cooperation

Dear Mr. Prieston!

As I speak, the Iesus Friendship Act has passed the House of Representatives of Allanea, at a vote of 3,506 – 2,374. It is, in fact, an act for increased friendship and cooperation with the legitimate government of “Iesus Christ” - the one headed by you, naturally. It also calls for the establishment of a frienship treaty between our governments.

These are the conditions of the Act, if you choose to accept them:

1.Recognition of the government in exile as the only legitimate government of your nation.
2.Installation of a Iesus Embassy in Liberty-City, courtesy of your government.
3.A grant of one hundred million Allanean Dollars to arms industry manufacturers, trainers, and other such facilities to supply the legitimate government of your nation with training and weaponry.
4.The handover of 150 George Walker Bush Mk II main battle tanks to your forces, which will of course be enabled to live and train in Allanea.
5.The granting of asylum status in Allanea to refugees from your country.

Of course, for this to happen, you need to arrive in Allanea to accept these benefits during the signing ceremony. Further, I am considering awarding you the Presidential Medal of Freedom for your efforts in returning liberty to your long suffering nation.

Yours in Liberty,
President Atchinson,
United States of Allanea

Sir.

I received your communication with joy and gladness. If only the entire world could share your love of liberty and justice….
While we accept that the exiled government has not been democratically installed by the peoples of Iesus Christi, we do claim to be the legitimate heir of the democratic government that died over fifty years ago.

We will gladly accept whatever you see fit to give, sadly we have little to give in return…expect our faithful brotherly love and our commitment to continue the struggle against the illegal fascist government of Iesus Christi until the people see the light of freedom.

I am not a man who believes in medals, for I have done nothing in comparison to those who suffer daily under the yoke of evil. The Iesus people who resist daily deserve the honours….but I will come to your nation and sign the documents that give hope to a people enslaved.

Yours in hope.
Sir Angrod Prieston

Military airport near Liberty-City, several days later

It was rather late in the evening, and getting dark, when the private jet sent out to bring President Angrod Prieston returned to Allanea. As it set up to land, forty soldiers on the ground shouldered their rifles in salute. Allaneans are not a people of particular attachment to military discipline, the reputation Angrod Prieston already had – at least among the few that heard of him – was enough to command genuine respect in the United States.

As the aircraft landed, an officer wearing the traditional Allanean army hat and deep-blue dress uniform approached the President of Iesus Christi – as he would be referred to in Allanea – and saluted him. “Good day, President Prieston.” – he pointed to a black H6 vehicle with tinted windows. “I’m Colonel Ragnar Morrison, Allanean Special Forces. It is my duty to provide your safety whilst in Allanea – and to guard you on your way to the Congressional session where you be greeted by both Houses and the President.”

Angrod felt cold, but knew instinctively it had nothing to do with the weather. He stood rigidly, upholding the royalist tradition he had been born into, and that Iesus fanaticism had destroyed. While being in his early sixties, he held his age well…his suit fitted perfectly and showed clearly the frame of a man who refused to let himself go.

Sir Angrod hid his surprise, while the term president was technically correct, it wasn’t a term he was often called….it was a more symbolic title than a practical one...
He smiled, and extended his hand to the Colonel’s “it’s a pleasure to be here….You are more than generous to allow me into your country…"

OOC: Fast-forwarding a little...
IC:

At the Morrison-Prieston meeting

Colonel Morrison smiled as he shook the hand of Angrod Prieston. “No, Sir. You are wrong. IT is I who must thank you for agreeing to visit Allanea. Our nation has long enjoyed the sweet blessings of Liberty, and it would be deeply immoral for us to deny you help. We are most honored by your visit – you, Sir, are a great man.”

Five minutes later, the vehicles moved out of the military base and sped towards Liberty-City. Twelve identical machines in a deep-blue glinting color, with tinted windows they were, unnumbered and unmarked – and no person on the outside could find out in which car the President of Iesus Christi was seated.

They rolled on, escorted by black-clad, masked Team Dagger operatives on black motorbikes, with two combat helicopters hovering steadily overhead, bristling with armaments and bombs. The escort given to Angrod Prieston was at par with what is often given with heads of state, except that in Allanea, most foreign heads of state are not given such security.

The vehicles eventually did tear out into Jefferson Street – the main street of Liberty-City, twelve-lane wide and open to all sorts of traffice. Morrison turned to Prieston and smiled: “You see Mr. President, decades of liberty had made Allanea really bloom. What you see here is basically a result of a mix between economic freedom, personal freedom and what foreign critics call consumerism – and the result is prosperity. One day, Iesus will be as free and prospeous, and you will make that happen.”

At the end of the street, upon a large hill left undisturbed by the city builders, stood a large – unbelievably large – domed building, it's virginous white dome lit up by colorful lights Only here did the vehicles stop. President Prieston was led out of the vehicle – with Dagger operatives using their own bodies to shield him from any potential sniper fire – and led inside, through some really narrow acess corridors...

Congressional Building, joint Senate-Congress conference on the Iesus Friendship Act

The Ambivalentira sat in the corner of the enourmous hall, looking sour. They and their allies have lost the vote against the Act in the Senate and Congress by atrocious, irredeemable margins – and President Atchinson now used his authority to call a join session – why? What new policy would this neo-libertarian bastard in service of the big corporations spring...

Atchinson rose, looking at some small door in the walls of the Congressional building. It opened, and two Team Dagger operatives walked in, each standing on a side of the door, wearing full black and their traditional black face masks. Colonel Morrison appeared, and then...

“This Congress will please rise to meet President Angrod Prieston, of Iesus Christi.”

The Speaker of the House did not have an authority to do this – but regardless, as Angrod Prieston entered, silence fell in the building as the Representatives and Senators began to rise – all except the Ambivalentira and some obstinate opposition members. Those would pay in the elections.

Now Prieston would understand why the building was so huge. The main hall had 8,000 seats in it, to accommodate for Allanea's ever-growing Parliament. Right now, it had 6,100 Representatives in it, and about 90 Senators. And most of those people were now on their feet, applauding President Angrod Prieston as he was gently shown the way across the hall and to the podium where President Atchinson stood. As he rose to the podium (flanked by the Allanean and the pre-fascism Iesian flag), the Allanean President spoke:

”Many of you, no doubt, did not wish me to sign this bill. I signed it – as others voted for it – for one reason. Our people have long grown complacent. We are happy in our Liberty, and we rejoice in its material payouts. But we must remember that these are nothing – all is nothing – if we allow ourselves to sink into moral depravity, to forget that there are others still in the dark, thirsting for a mere droplet of the same spring of Liberty we Allaneans drink from every day.

We must never forget – if we are to retain this Freedom – that to retain Freedom for himself, one must struggle to give Freedom to others. Freedom, like Love and Knowledge, only grows in the sharing. And this is why I welcome today a greater man than myself. A man who has truly worked, labored, and suffered for freedom. Ladies and gentlemen of this Congress,
President Angrod Prieston!”

There was applause.

Sir Angrod Prieston, acting president of the exiled Iesus government rose to the podium.
He looked tired, grey, as he rose to the Podium. He had deep black rings under his eyes. He nervously cleared his throat to speak…

“Friends of those who suffering needlessly….”

Angrod changed as he spoke, energy entered his voice, colour came into him, he look vitalized as every word came flowing out…

“oh Friend of the oppressed Iesus people. It is an honour for me to be here in a land that loves liberty. I only wish I could be here under different circumstances…
I come to you as a representative of a people who long for freedom, who lust it…who crave it more than life itself…I come to you as a representative of a people held in chains and who cannot break those chains by themselves… I come to you as a servant of a people who can offer you nothing but their desire for life and liberty.

What you offer the people of Iesus Christi…and the world…is hope. The exact details of your generous offer are secondary to that great gift. You by your generosity are providing a light for a people in darkness, you are providing a spark of hope for people who have had no reason to hope for a generation…

Let us be realistic, this is just the start of a longer journey, there is no quick fix to the tyranny that reigns in Iesus Christi. The Iesus people have been so long enslaved that the road to freedom will not be easy…But every journey must start somewhere, and by the grace of God I believe the road to Iesus liberation has begun here today…
God bless you all…”

Congress Building

Allaneans are great fans of political speechmaking. They like watching it on TV, they argue about the fine points of the art, they write angry letters when their congressman uses a wrong expression, and so forth. And of course, for the Congressmen and Senators in the hall, Angrod Prieston's speech was nothing much, and they were experienced – some of them cynical people. But it has something to it that many of the professional politicians in the room had long forgot about.

It had truth in it. This man in front of them was a real, flesh-and-blood freedom fighter – the kind Allanean children read about in books – like Kazansky and Ashtonbury and Jefferson and Huarez and all the other great people. He was an embodiment of the Allanean principle, and it was that principle, more then anything else, that the Allanean legislators rose to applaud.

The applause was matched by hoots of approval from the journalist's balcony, and many of the people watching the speech on live television broadcast did so as well.

The broadcast had wide effect among the Allaneans. Not only was the Iesus-Allanea Frienship Act widely approved, but many voluntarily donated to boost the forces of the Iesus Rebellion through money and equipment, and a group known as Allaneans for Iesus Liberation was formed by Representative Rielson (D-Allanean Kentucky), gatheing fifty million dollars in donations in five days.

Secret IC: Florida Keys, Allanean Florida, Non-Earth, (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=461487) a month later

Several trucks full of people rolled across the bridge to the Keys. It was in the Florida Keys that the center of the Iesusian diaspora was projected by the Allaneans do grow. ACIA agents canvassed the world in search of former rebels and their families, inviting them to the Keys. It was on one of these islands that Camp Sesame was foundeds.

As the young people – Iesusian exiles in the second generation mostly – disembarked, they were directed into the chain of events that happens to every man when he becomes a soldier. They were dressed in military-style fatigues, given a haircut and dogtags, and taught to salute people with ranks. Eventually, they were led to a place where a long set of chairs and seats was arranged in the open air.

In front of them, flanked by several small arms stands, stood Colonel Morrison. He spoke, his tone harsh and warlike:

“Good morning! You are here as trainees of the Camp Sesame Special Operations Facility! You are here to begin a one year and six months of hard, rigorous, exhaustive training. I am telling you that so that you can quit.

The first six months will be basic training. You will be taught how to shoot a rifle, how to run for miles without tiring, how to carry heavy weight, how to set up camp, how to take down enemy aircraft and how to kill a man with your bare hands. This will behard. You may quit now. If the course starts, it will be too late to quit.

When you are done with the basic training, you will begin the difficult part. You will receive classes in tactics and strategy of guerilla warfare, and practice them extensively. You will learn to blow up trains, to make a submachinegun and ammunition with a standard auto-mechanic's worskhop or less, to command and organise an insurgent cell. You will learn to assassinate government agents, to sabotage facilities, to create mayhem and destruction in the machine of oppression. This will behard. You may quit now. If the course starts, it will be too late to quit.

When it is all over, each and every one of you will posses a variety of theoretical and practical knowledge. Even one of you, when injected into enemy territory, will pose major problems to the enemy government. A hundred? I sure don't want to be in Mathew Iesus' shoes. And eventually, the pressure by you and the likes of you will destroy the regime -even though you will seem to be be outnumbered and outgunned. This will behard. You may quit now. If the course starts, it will be too late to quit – as it will during your operations.”

Benjamin Moses was assigned to liaison with the Allanean training scheme by Sir Prieston…Angrod personally vouched for Benjamin(who despite his name wasn’t Jewish!). The then Captain Benjamin had defected some ten years ago, crossing into the then far-less restrictive St Dominic. From there he’d joined the exiles who grouped around Angrod in Bigtopia, his experience being a former combat-tested officer of the zealous Legio maria made his raise within the exiles quick.

Benjamin was short, stocky and always had a grin on his face…a face that had perpetual stubbly beard. He commented often he couldn’t stand the feel of metal against his coarse skin…considering his background, people don’t press the issue.

He’d given a senior training officer his view of the exile would-be soldiers…
“The one who’ve fled Iesus naturally will be better soldiers..having done compulsory military service and faced hardships already…those born outside Iesus…we’ll…God knows how’ll they be…they have a lot less to fight for than others…the ideal of national pride doesn’t count for much when you’re being shot at eh?...
In my view…based on sad experience…you’ll have to watch for these things…
Spies…bloody everywhere. Even amongst the second generation…the idea of freedom appeals but so does the idea of Christian fascism. Of course a lot of people have family back home, and well…I don’t need to draw you a picture…the various Iesus intelligence forces know how to get what they want.
Booze. Especially among those who have border jumped. Some people have a lot of memories and problems that alcohol dulls.
Which sadly leads into the biggest concern…suicide. Its common..painfully common amongst exiles. To be honest its common at home too…people get disheartened, sometimes it can seem pointless…so if I was you I’d keep an eye on that"

“Very well, Captain Benjamin.” spoke Masterson with what seemed to be, surprisingly, a benevolent smile. “I have trained Khristians. I know that sounds racist, but the Khristians are the closest thing to subhumans I have ever seen. And I have made them into soldiers. By the grace of God, I will make good soldiers of the Iesians just as well.”

“As you may or may not know, this camp is surrounded by a kilometer-wide minefield. It's location, purpose, and staffing is Top Secret, eyes only. Many people think this is some corporate facility, and frankly that's the way I like it. Less prying eyes – less thieves and spies.”

“But we're going to go furher. Much further. First of all, as you know, any military BT is a lot of... the more liberal people call it brainwashing. I call it political education. An hour a day of getting it clarified to you why liberty is better then Reich fascism, two hours on Sundays and Fridays. There's of course a church on the grounds, and as far as I know the priest doesn't like the Reich version of slavery much either.”

“You may call it wrong, but to me, this kind of thing is a tool. It can be used for evil, as it is in places like the Reich, or it can be used for enormous good. And, frankly, freeing Iesus Christi and flaying Matthew Iesus is somewhere around 'enormous good' in my book'.

“There is no communication with the outside in this camp except through military channels. It's like a monastery- and we are all like monks, dedicating ourselves to the sacred cause of liberty. Any exile has a choice – either receiving a greencard and living in Allanea as a free man – or coming here and training for a year and a half, promising to bring freedom to Iesus. And we damn will.”

“We will teach the troops the meaning and influence of the various combat drugs, and we'll teach them which pills to scarf up with combat comes. We will infuse their food with so much testosterone hormones that when they see the Reichite soldiers, they will be angry enough to kill them with their bare hands. We will institute a daily watch on every barracks to prevent suicides and defections. We will make those exiles into soldiers and sergeants. We will prevail.”

Elsewhere

In the meanwhile, the ACIA poured gold and silver into what was called Operation Judas. The gold went to multiple attempts to bribe border patrol troops and officers in Iesus Christi, in order to widen the flow of refugees and potential recruits out of the country. About 10 million Allanean dollars – 20 million Standard ones – were budgeted for the mission for each month of the fiscal year. That was lots of money, and it remained to be seen if it worked.

Captain Benjamin bristled at the term subhumans. He felt somewhat ‘put off’ by this Official….
”I understand that you’re doing all you can, I just don’t think you understand quite the situation on the ground within the exile community or within Iesus Christi. I’m sure this facility is totally secure, but I’m also sure the Iesus government knows about its existence already…” Benjamin shrugged, the lack of security within the exiles wasn’t anything new, it had been going on for fifty years.

“...as for political education. I understand your point…Iesus itself has a version of such ‘education’, its simply just a lot longer and harsher. I’d gently remind you that these people are volunteers and already know the evils of fascism….they already know the terrible reality of fascism… that aside, I’ll be insisting that we monitor and add input into your education…. The same goes for any drug program…we’re fighting the good fight for the liberty of billions, not creating drug crazed fanatics….We’ve lost too much already to become drones in someone else’s war. Don’t get me wrong, I respect what you’re doing for us, but we’re not about to replace one tyranny for another.”

The Allanean blinked. “Everything has two sides. Your people have learned why fascism is evil. It is well that they know it, even though I have to lament that they had to learn it the hard way. The purpose of our education will be to explain why liberty is good, how it makes people not simply safe from fascism, but also prosperous and happy.”

He continued, handing the Iesian a small package. “Further, there's a difference between uncontrolled, addicted abuse of a variety of substances, and their use in small, medically monitored amounts. This, for example, is pure adrenalin, in pills. It will be handed out only before actual conflict or training, intake will be monitored, and use shall be only as needed. There will be no addict problems. The use of mentality-modyifing substances is common in war – just think of Viet Nam, the Second World War, the Fourth and Fifth Edolian Coflict, the Colombian-Chimean engagements and the wars of the Romans Empire. Wine, vodka, hashish, methamphetamine, and so forth – all are but weapons, Captain. Just as the rifle, the grenade, the knife, they can be a force for evil – or for enormous good. The issue, as always, is that of choice.”

Benjamin gave a strained smile "You have a point with the education....but the Exile government will still ...I dont want to use this term considering how good you have been to us....demand to have input and rights of veto over any content. I'm sure this wont be an issue....we seem to be on the same wavelength on the issue of liberty....
oh and naturally I understand the use of drugs within the combat situation...the use of them is a tool is fine...but your words about infusing food with so much testosterone hormones that the soldiers will want to strangle people with their bare hands....that worries me. We will not become monsters to stop monsters. Perhaps you were just exaggerating to make a point"

“Oh, I am sorry, Captain. It was a slight exaggeration. Of course there will be hormonal adjustments… just nowhere near that severe. Seriously, you should not be concerned.”

He paused. He remembered the battle for Deriksburg. How he led thousands of cadets aboard communist-run Doujin superdreadnaughts. Blood. There was blood everywhere. The Red Guards fought them in every passage of the ship. They were at least as good, and they had the home ground. For every meter of the ship that they cleansed of the Edolian troops, an Allanean would fall. You would never know when a person would come out from behind the corner and go at you, wazikashi in hand. He shuddered. One of them lurched out just in front of him, slashing the throat of a rifleman cadet ear to ear. Blood - still warm – splattered onto his face. The next thing he remembered, he had his bare hands on the Red Guard’s throat, squeezing hard – and the Communist was already long dead.

“We all have a monster inside us, Captain. The smart thing is to know how to control that monster – and to only cut him loose when there’s need.”

From: Allanean Central Intelligence Agency
To: Imperial Foreign Intelligence Service, Pantocratoria
Classified, Eyes Only, Destroy After Reading


Dear Sir!

We have received, through our intelligence channels, unconfirmed information that you are engaged in intelligence operations within the so-called “holy” Empire of Iesus Christi. You have obviously heard in the media of the Allanean reaction to the Empire and it’s latest actions. With that in mine, we wonder if IFIS would assist us in allowing a small group of agents (ten in number) to infiltrate the IC government structures for intelligence-gathering and monkeywrenching purposes.

We will cover all expenses for such activities, and provide you with state-of-the-art Allanean methods and training regarding certain aspects of intelligence work.

Yours in liberty,

M.G.Norris,
ACIA,

Captain Moses noted the pause and prayed silently that their new allies werent totally tonto....He'd dealt with enough haunted lunatics in his life and didnt really feel that warmly towards them.
"We arnt people who tend to exaggeration, but fair enough. Aslong as you understand our concerns. Monsters we dont want, if we wanted monsters we'd have stayed in Iesus Christi. Alot of these people have families back home, family members in the military...you should keep that in mind.."

The Colonel nodded. “Tell me, Captain… is it possible for you to provide us with any information – minor, seemingly technical stuff – about Iesus Christi?”

He paused. “As of now, we will begin with the six-month basic training curriculum. This will teach them how to fight if they don’t’ know and re-train them if the do. But you and me, we have a different task. We will need to start preparing the second, year-long curriculum. The one that will teach them to become true rebels – each and every one a threat to the order of things in Iesus Christi, even on his own. And aside of the skills we will teach at that stage – the workings of an underground cell, the making of a basement munitions production, sabotaging government facilities and spreading the influence of one’s ideas – we must teach them the particular weaknesses of the Reichite system. The places they we can strike.”

“I’m sure the curriculum will be acceptable. I agree we need to teach these men who to be terrorists…how to sabotage, kill and cause mayhem…Blood for blood” He grinned and shoved a piece of gum in his mouth. “whatever technical information you want, we can try and get for you. Iesus Christi maybe backwards in regards ethics and democracy, but militarily she’s right on the money. In fact the military and propaganda get the lions share of all budgets. Technology is pretty much openly shared between Reich nations. Generally anyway, of course everyone keeps certain projects under wraps.”
He chewed his gum loudly as he thought over the last question. “we’ll, terror is the biggest strength and weakness in Iesus Christi. It’s a double edged sword….it makes rebels of even the most docile people, but at the same time can make eunuchs of Lions.”

“This is well that we understand each other, Captain. The basic training program will begin as of today. In the meanwhile, ACIA will begin searching for technical and strategic information about the Reich, and particularly about the Unholy Empire that Mathew Iesus has set up. They will fall – under the weight of their own sins.”

Imperial High Command, somewhere deep underneath the city of New Rome

"...the need to discover to what extent the ACIA has infiltrated the IFIS. That, gentlemen, is what is paramount here." argued one of the anonymous members of the Imperial High Command, a Pantocratorian Imperial Air Force officer of the rank of Air Marshal, whose identity was known only to the other members of the High Command.

"Just because they've become aware of one of our operations doesn't mean that IFIS has been infiltrated." argued the IFIS representative to the High Command, who was known to the other members simply as Monsieur le Directeur-Étranger, although they didn't know whether he was really the IFIS Director, or anything else about him. "We have already taken steps to ensure that any potential mole leaking information about our operations in Iesus Christi will leak no further. We have no evidence of any further infiltration than that."

"I'm satisfied with whatever steps the IFIS deems necessary to deal with the problem of how the ACIA got this information. To be honest, I'd rather discuss the nature of the request." said Lord First Admiral Phocas, one of the few publicly known members of the Imperial High Command on account of his holding a hereditary seat in that body. "Placing Allanean agents in Iesus Christi... how many was it?"

"Ten, my lord First Admiral." replied M. le Directeur-Étranger.

"Are we even capable of placing ten agents?" asked the Air Marshal.

"It's more than IFIS has in Iesus Christi." answered the IFIS representative. "Placing them shouldn't be a problem though... the issue is keeping them secret, especially if all ten will be active at once."

"That's an ACIA issue, surely, not a Pantocratorian concern." said another anonymous officer, a Lieutenant General.

"It becomes our concern if the Iesians ask themselves how any agents they capture got there in the first place, General." the IFIS representative replied impatiently.

"Quite so, I beg your pardon, monsieur." the General nodded and reclined back into his seat, resolving to remain silent on the topic to save further embarrassment.

"We could offer to place one ACIA agent." suggested Lord First Admiral Phocas. "Keep him under surveillance. Kill him if he's captured, so he can't compromise our own operations."

"An excellent suggestion, my lord First Admiral," started M. le Directeur-Étranger. "But we don't need to worry about our own operations being compromised. The bigger concern is what the Iesian reaction would be to discovering that we cooperated in placing the Allanean agents... MATER, could you prepare a report estimating likely Iesian reactions and running through the action scenarios in each case?"

"Yes, Monsieur le Directeur-Étranger." answered the cold, robotic, but vaguely feminine voice of the MATER computer, echoing about the Imperial High Command chamber.

"I don't understand, monsieur, why aren't we worried about our operations being compromised?" inquired First Admiral Phocas.

"As I said, my lord First Admiral," M. le Directeur-Étranger began, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "We've taken steps to ensure that no further information leaks about our operations in Iesus Christi..."

***

Somewhere in Iesus Christi

Melanie Thessalien, alias Mary O'Donald, was a Pantocratorian sleeper agent. To her knowledge, she was the only one, but there were in fact two other IFIS sleepers in Iesus Christi. She worked as a receptionist for the owner of a small canned food factory, impersonating a native Iesian. Melanie, or Mary as she was known to her co-workers, had worked in the factory for the past year, and while her boss thought she was a fairly lazy and unreliable worker on account of her often coming in late and leaving early, he had kept her on because she hadn't made a fuss about his busy hands. The day job was just cover, however.

In the year she had been undercover in Iesus Christi she had carried out only one mission: hunting down a Pantocratorian defector and monitor his activities. When the order came down, this sweet looking, attractive young woman silenced the defector forever. It had looked like an accident, too. One early morning in winter her quarry, Philippe de Gastinois, walked down the concrete steps from his porch to his car. His foot slipped out from underneath him on the ice of the middle step, and he fell backwards, cracking his skull on the concrete. To her dismay, the initial fall didn't kill him. Melanie, watching from a parked car across the street, saw his chest continue to rise and fall as he continued to draw breath. Her back-up plan worked perfectly, however. When the defector, in a daze and moaning in agony, pulled himself up to his feet using the steel railing on the side of the steps, the railing suddenly gave way due to rust in all the right places, and he fell another fifteen feet to the concrete pavement in front of his home, head first.

After the mission, she had remained undercover, waiting for further instruction from her controller. None had yet come, and none ever would. Somehow, she knew that the moment she had opened the door to her modest flat and seen the cold eyes of the IFIS Extraction Agent standing there. Of course, she didn't know he was an IFIS Extraction Agent at the time. He claimed to be a telephone repairman, there to check the line. Normally, she would never let somebody in just on the grounds that they claimed to be from the telephone company, but there was something about him which made her let him in. After he was inside and the door was closed, he grabbed her by each of her wrists and dragged her into the middle of the apartment.

"Agent Melanie Thessalien..." he hissed at her as she began. "Don't scream... IX4U."

The scream which was beginning to form in the back of her throat was stifled by the man's use of both her real name and the special code she had been told when she was first deployed which indicated that she was being extracted from the field by IFIS.

"My controller..." she began.

"Dead." the Extraction Agent told her. He didn't tell her that the IFIS had killed him, in case he had been the mole who told the ACIA about Pantocratoria's operations in Iesus Christi.

"How?" she asked, shocked.

"We can't worry about that now, we have to get any sensitive information or evidence that you're anybody but Mary O'Donald out of here, right now." the Extraction Agent said, moving over to the flat's lone window to pull the blinds shut. "We have sixteen minutes to get out of the flat, make it fast. Is there anything out here?"

"No." Melanie answered.

"Great, gather up whatever there is in your bedroom, I'll guard out here." the Extraction Agent told her.

"Right." Melanie nodded, flustered.

She rushed into the flat's bedroom and started gathering up whatever might look like evidence that she was a foreign spy. While she did so, the Extraction Agent started to rummage through the living room, ransacking it so as to make it appear as if the flat had been robbed. When he was done, he went into the bathroom. Stealing a look over his shoulder in Melanie's direction to make sure she wasn't looking, he pulled out a syringe, already filled with a clear serum.

"You done in there?" he called out to her.

"Almost... yes... I've got everything together in my overnight bag." Melanie called back.

"What's this in your bathroom? A bug? Did they bug your flat?" the Extraction Agent cried out urgently, as if he really saw evidence of an Iesian bug.

"What?" she shrieked, and rushed into the bathroom.

"There..." he said, pointing to a place on the far wall. She reached across him and leaned in to examine it, and while she did so he jabbed the syringe into her neck and injected her. Her eyes bulged with surprise. "Truth serum."

"Why?" she gasped, as he pulled out the syringe.

"There's a mole in our operations in Iesus Christi. We need to know if you're it. I'm sorry, but if you were, you'd hardly have gone along with the injection willingly." he explained apologetically as he patted her down for any sign of a weapon. There was none - it was already in her overnight bag.

"Ow..." Melanie complained as she straightened back up.

"I'll get your bag." the Extraction Agent said. "You should have a drink of water or something, that stuff dries you out..."

"I'm not the mole..." she protested as he left the bathroom and grabbed her bag.

"I believe you, but I'll ask you anyway in..." he said, looking at his watch. He looked about the bedroom, and was satisfied to see that Melanie had already made it look like it had been ransacked in a search for valuables in her quest to gather up all the evidence. "Thirty seconds, when it takes effect."

He walked back out into the living room, and she drank some water from the sink in her bathroom. While she was still in there, the Extraction Agent opened up her bag and rummaged through the evidence inside, finding her gun. He confirmed that it was loaded, pulled it out, and put it in the pocket in his tradesman's overalls, before zipping the bag back up. He walked over to the table and overturned it to complete the effect of her house being ransacked. She left the bathroom and walked out into the living room.

"I feel groggy..." she complained.

"It's the serum." he explained. "Are you the mole?"

"No." she answered, truthfully.

"Do you know who the mole is?"

"No. I swear I don't." Melanie swore.

"Give me your arm." he said, producing the syringe containing the antidote. "This will nullify the effects of the serum."

"I hate needles..." she admitted, truthfully of course, as she held out her arm with trepidation.

The serum made the next part of the Extraction Agent's job the hardest, the way the it stripped away the toughened exterior of a spy and assassin, making them unguarded, relaxed, sometimes almost childlike. He injected her with the antidote, and then walked back over to the bag. She rubbed her arm and then thoughtfully looked at him.

"Why would you want to nullify the effects of the serum? Unless you think we'll need to talk our way past anybody..." she thought out loud, the serum not yet worn off. "Are the Iesians onto us? Are you expecting it to be hard to get out of here?"

"No, and no. It's not for that." the Extraction Agent answered truthfully, reaching into his overall pocket for the gun. The turned it around and pointed it at her. "It's in case they perform an autopsy. They might pick up the serum unless we gave you the antidote."

Her eyes went wide in shock, and her mouth opened to say something, but he squeezed the trigger. He shot her twice before she hit the ground, and another time just to be sure. The serum was good, but it wasn't infallible. As he grabbed the bag and left the flat, he tried to tell himself that she might have been the mole.

***

Port-Allanea

Isabelle Katalyan, Pantocratoria's Ambassador to the United States, requested a meeting with the Director of the Allanean Central Intelligence Agency to discuss "the possibility of intelligence sharing", with the particular objective of "fighting Islamist terrorist organisations". In short, the meeting request didn't look like it had anything to do with the Reich (except perhaps for organisations sponsored by North Star) or Iesus Christi in particular, and only M.G. Norris, the ACIA Director, could know that it was precipitated by an Allanean request to IFIS.

“Mary O'Donald. Aged twenty five according to central. Worked at a canned food factory. Her workmates said she wasn’t a great worker, and kept to herself generally. Her boss has a few Social decency charges against his name….He’s already been taken down the Peoples court. He’s our most likely suspect, especially considering the amount of Pornography that was found at his apartment….Case closed I reckon…”
The fat faced young detective finished talking and waited eagerly for the Commander to say something. The dead girls body still lay on the floor of the apartment right next to them….no one had yet removed it…
Moments passed and still the black suited Commander hadn’t spoken, making Jeff Memorare feel uncomfortable, the lack of uniform scared him too…he didn’t like these specials snooping around…and the greying mans staring gaze crept him out…Jeff combated the desire to stare at the floor, and instead filled the silent vacuum with an idle thought he’d been toying with…
“Of course Commander, we’ll be doing a full background check, I’ve already got ‘em sending her barcode through systems checks. Should be back any minute now…. Killed by a lust crazy boss maybe convenient but not necessarily true..”
The Commander nodded, and still said nothing. He knelt by the died girl, and Jeff swore he heard him sigh.

A uniformed trooper rushed into the room and handed Jeff a data pad. He read it quickly and coughed.
“Seems either Miss O’Donald was Lazarus reincarnated, or that’s a fake ID on her arm. The bar code on her arm belongs to a Miss Mary O’Donald, who died 3 years ago. Aged 5. I don’t reckon that this girls when dead for three years or is eight years old….”
“Indeed…good work Captain. Continue the investigation and keep me informed…”
“Be my Pleasure Commander Garr!”

John Garr left the apartment feeling strangely happy, he liked seeing that the Inquisitors weren’t stupid. He liked seeing that they didn’t take the easy alternative. Despite being clearly overweight, Jeff Memorare showed all the traits that marked him as a possible recruit for the Oculi dei.






“The sooner we start the better. It’s a long road ahead of us….” Moses shoved another piece of gum into his mouth, and then another. Clearly some compulsion, or nervous habit. “ And lets not start envisioning the overthrow of the fascists yet, there is a lot of work before then. By the way, there are other officers who I’d like to integrate into the program. I trust that wont be an issue…they’ll be the officers of any future force hopefully…I trust they’ll be treated with appropriate regard due to their ranks.”

Port-Allanea, Allanea

While no longer the national capital, Port-Allanea housed one of the most premier ACIA offices known to the public eye – the Allanean Contextual Research Institute. It was a large office building, 160 stories high, towering above the sea. It was packed, basement to roof, with a variety of computers and research staff, dedicated to contextual analysis. Right now, their focus was Iesus Christi. They digested every scrap of propaganda report, , every government announcement, every sattelite picture. And sometimes they found out stuff about the 'holy empire' that even Bridgette didn't care to know.

It was to the top story of this building, to a spartan-design office that was locked most of the year, that the ACIA Director invited the ambassador. It was here that he was waiting for him now. The walls were lined with screens and charts, and there were charts on the table too, as well as two laptops. For a few months now, the Agency was studying Iesus Christi. That much, would be obvious to anybody who entered the place. Only the ambassador, however, would be allowed to enter.

Non-Earth Florida Keys

"Certainly, Captain. Anybody who passes the security checks is welcome."

Tagorama

Over the last few months the camp had blossomed, and training was in full swing as the President Angron visited the facility. Flanked by his most trusted advisors, Captain Moses and Major Francis, the ‘President’ inspected the facility….happily talking with the men and women who’d volunteered.
Old faces from the exile movement were dotted amongst the newer and younger faces, their transfer to the training centre had been easy and a necessity. The Exiles wanted a core of hardened and stoic supporters at the heart of these new recruits. Of course Captain Moses had agreed to background checks and security clearances….but everyone of the exiles had a checked and shady past…and President Angrod himself had vetoed the use of chemicals or machines in the security process. “We are not fascists” was the singular reason he gave anyone who queried the choice.


“it’s a perfect chance…the city itself will be crowed with pilgrims…its exactly One thousand years since Our Lady appeared to Saint Fenris and ordered him to redeem the people held in darkness…” The President beamed as he told the story “ She appeared in glory, crowned as the queen of heaven. She ordered Fenris to carry the light of Christ into the darkness of the evil that controlled the land. She implored him to bring the Cross of Christ to the people lost…she implored him to save her people….now, I’m not one who tends to believe in medieval myths…but what a perfect opportunity to strike for freedom? The seaside city of Boniface is already one of the largest cities within Iesus…and during this time of pilgrimage will literally be swamped with people craving ….craving…anything they can get…“ The President nodded to Major Francis, who then took over speaking…
“Direct Military invasion of Iesus Christi will not bring the results we want. But a model uprising, on such an important feast….Our soldiers and yours launching a surprise landing/uprising….it could spark something greater than anything we have ever dared to hope for. If there is any chance for the armed forces to coup…its now…the feast of Saint Fenris and Companions. Troops without uniforms landed via cargo ships, combined with rioting amongst the pilgrims…its dangerous, but isn’t it worth it?”
The President and Major Francis looked solemnly at the Alleanean officials, waiting eagerly for their reply.

Colonel Morrison grinned, his grin somewhat disturbing to the Iesians. He was a proffessional killer, and has killed literally hundreds – maybe more – personally through his life. “This is well, Mr. President. You know the habits of your people better then me – and I will not permitt myself to correct your planning anywhere were it pertains to the knowledge of the Iesian national character. This is not my specialty. However, I would wish to offer several modifications to the plan, as follows.”

He drew a large knife – a black-bladed Bowie – and began cutting up a big mango fruit with it, still grinning with the cruel smile of the predator. “I think it is better if, excepting Team Dagger, no Allanean troops were involved in the ground operation until such a time as your own people see fit to call for them.”

He took a piece of mango off the dish in front of him and ate it before continuing. “However, it's not just the troops that can help. Thank merciful God, Allanea has no state monopoly on arms, and there's plenty private groups among whom volunteers can be found – think of the Ashtonbury Brigade and maybe the Constitutional Militia of Alabama and suchlike. Good to be free, no?”

He ate another bit of mango.

“And also... no troops on the ground doesn't mean we can't do ground support from beyond the horizon does it?” - he smiled, pointing with his knife to the sea – where, painted in bright colors, floated a Hood-class battleship, over 1,800 meters of pure, gaily painted military glory. “Welcome, the USS Liberty.”

Benjamin Moses had been silent so far, leaving those whose idea this was to be its advocates. He at least ventured an idea when airpower was discussed….
“Alleanean Airpower while no doubt powerful and desirable…has certain drawbacks. Should any air strikes occur before the military joins our cause, you may find stiff resistance or worse…find it counter productive…force the military to stay loyal to the government…Perhaps the offer of air strikes could be left completely at the Presidents discretion. Should he see the situation would profit from air strikes, they should go ahead? This way we harness the might of foreign airpower without the threat of alienating the Iesus armed forces.”
The President nodded “Sounds a wise idea. As does the idea of using the foreign militias, as well as Alleanean. But…we want trained personal…not nut cases. If we are to slip them into the nation shortly before the uprising, we need disciplined soldiers. Via contacts in the various Navy and Shipping departments….I believe we could safely ship 3000 – 6000 volunteers.
From what Moses had said to me privately, around 1000 Iesus exiles are ready for action…of that number I’d like to move some 500 into the nation before the uprising itself. They’ll be the spark in the city itself, while the rest of the volunteers will disembark from cargo vessels into the civilian docks and move into the city proper. Can our allies provide some 4000 volunteers? Does this seem reasonable to you?”

"Mr. Prieston, at all times strategic command of this mission is in your hands. You are the lawful leader of Iesus Christ, and as far as we are concerned, it's your countree to make free. We can help, but we can't do your job for you."

Colonel Morrison paused. "However, rest assured we will be there with the support you requested - I am estimating some five hundred Team Dagger operatives, and a variety of volunteers that the different private organisations will no doubt provide."

"Excellent excellent....your help is what we need. As you say, we must do this thing ourselves...." Prieston smiled and continued speaking "still....we will be looking for those foriegn volunteers to make up the numbers.....if you'd approach those you feel would be interested...many people dislike dealing directly with us. perhaps one day the city of Boniface will be remembered as the origin of a great enterprise."

"Very well." – said the Allanean and rose.

* * * *
Several weeks later

Volunteers began to flow in – not physically, yet, but via signatures on pieces of paper and statements of intent that were kept secret. The Allaneans realized full well that many of those who promised would not be there when the ship left port, and they overrecruited. From militia groups like the Axackal Minutemen and corporate security forces came troops, and training, and guns. All the Allaneans would have to supply from the public coffer would be the transport.

So far, all seemed to be going well.

Matters continued to roll forward behind closed doors....
Eventually after some unknown actions...be they bribes, murders or blackmail...the news came in that up to three medium cargo ships could be supplied. Perhaps loading in a neutral port, those who intented to launch the assualt could be smuggled into the port. A surprise raid from the cargo ships, taking the port then the city itself....
It wasnt the best plan of all time and had a large scale of possible issues...

Still the exile President was keen, he seemed convinced this action could spark the flame of rebellion...
Captain Moses continued his tasks but became more distracted. He often talked about the “The way of perfection passes by way of the Cross" and it had been whispered that he had taken to self Mortification. He saw his confessor almost daily...

Florida Keys, Non Earth, Allanea

"Ships, check. Iesian volunteers, kinda-schminda-sorta check. Allanean volunteers, check that too." - nodded Morrison. - "I now only have a few loose ends to tie up... and we'll be able to get going."

His secretary, a young Allanean lady with thick reading glasses - the kind that were apparently all the rage in Liberty-City, amazingly - tapped away at the keyboard. "Loose ends, Sir?"

"Yes. I need to talk to Moses."


Forty minutes later, they were already talking. "Mr. Moses, I would like to give you an assigmnent. I want you to travel to Liberty-City, and to make certain purchases."

He gave the Captain a long lists of stuff that had to be procured - from a variety of vendors. He authorized him for a procurement officer, and gave hims a large sum of money on "personal expenditures", out of the unit budget.

And he was still chuckling when the Captain left the base.

Moses did not know that the vendors were already spoken to, and the whole thing was arranged. Morrison was slightly suspicious of him - but not enough to file suit. Merely, he arranged for him to be held up in the city for several days - and it would be unlikely that he would be back until the very moment the ships were leaving the Iesian harbor.

But that, only Morrison and those he conspired with knew.

The three Iesus cargo vessels were ready for action…
The Martha, Mount Egmot and the Southern Star weren’t massive vessels. They were middle range merchant cargo vessels that were shaded with rust and flaking paint….but it was the best way the exiles could provide for the volunteers to enter the nation. The President had been given assurances the three vessels wouldn’t be inspected as they entered the port…
Heavy weaponry would be provided by the exiles network one the volunteers were called ashore. The volunteers were to only carry personal arms and ammunition.
Nervously young Iesus volunteers checked over their rifles and grenades. Young exile officers watched over every detail of what was taken aboard….they weren’t going to let anything go wrong.

Moses did as he was told..As usual. He wasn’t lucking forward to the coming mission…but he was a solider and soldiers follow orders.
His cell phone buzzed.... Some of the exile soldiers asking him pointless questions about the loading of the boats.

The USS Semnetihaq (which meantsovereignty in one of the Allanean dialects) – moved leasurely out of the Florida Keys, escorted by the three ships that looked tiny near its enormous hull. Or rather, it was escorting them.

Stuffed in the hulls, like in the insides of 19th century slave ships bearing European slaves to Africa and African slaves to America, were Iesian exiles and Allanean militiamen, young boys that would be missed next morning in school, and young college girls clinging to their rifles and scant clothing.

And below the surface, like God's own whales, came two cargo submarines – carrying each only two hundred and ten men, but the most dangerous men, perhaps, on this journey.

It has begun.

Inside the ships, the Iesus troopers talked with excitement. People joked about the overthrow of the Iesus regime like it had already happened….of course the older heads among the exiles knew that at best this would be a catalyst. A taper to the fuse of rebellion….

President Angron had moved himself into the ‘command room’ so as to monitor the situation. Captain Moses stood at his side, by personal request of the President.
“Its quite simple really gentlemen. Once the signal is given from the city itself, the rebels will pour of their cargo craft and into the city…until then they’ll have to wait in their boats…horrid conditions but cant be helped eh? Personal comfort is subservient to the cause of liberty!” The president smiled, knowing that the cargo vessels would soon be sailing into Boniface. “Until the internal signal is given we cant make a move. We really can’t do anything as far as I can see. We wouldn’t want to endanger internal rebel units.”

"Very well," - said the Colonel. - "If anything goes really wrong - the Semnetihaq will help out some. Now, let us wait."

The sea port of Boniface was crowded with vessels of all sorts…fishing, cargo and military vessels lay in the harbour, many of their crews no doubt in the city for the Feast.
The feast when the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to Saint Fenris appealed to all sections of Iesus society and in recent years had become something of a grand party in the port city.

The cargo ships entered the harbour at dusk, and despite the fact they had come close to Iesus navy vessels on their passage in…they hadn’t been stopped, just as the exiles had promised.
On nearby Navy ships, sailors did their evening callisthenics as the first fireworks from the city exploded overhead…the celebrations started as soon as the sun hit the horizon.

The ships moored out in the harbour. There would be no docking as yet…the risk of random inspection was great enough already without being tethered to a dock.

The USS Semnetihaq, of course, remained behind, on the edge of Iesus national waters – Allanea was at war with the Reich, and the Semnetihaq crew kind of wanted to avoid being shot at. Still, the military vessels in harbor would be targeted by the 30-inch guns -after all, that's what the thirty-inch guns are for.

From the submarines, small crews of swimmers detached and made it for the Iesus shore, using underwater 'cycles' – basically, silent engines slowly pulling the swimmer behind them as he held on. They would surface on abandoned beaches a few miles away from the city, silently, and made their way towards the railways – without saying a word to each other. Such was Team Dagger – silent, unnoticeable.. deadly.

And elsewhere, aboard one of the cargo ships, the commander of the Semnetihaq saluted Prieston. “It's your job, now, Mr. Prieston. We brought you this far... and now it's all your for the taking. Go kick their ass.”

Out at the edge of the Iesus national waters, two missile boats and a heavy cruiser moved into a position to shadowed the USS Semnetihaq. The vessels never left Iesus waters, nor did they open fire. They simply watched and matched manoeuvres …

The tension rose inside the cargo ships as no signal came. No one quite knew how long he or she was going to have to wait in the ships.

No beaches in Iesus are truly abandoned. The “fortress Iesus” policy of Bridgette Iesus had left even isolated inhospitable beaches covered with barbed wire and warnings of landmines. Sentries walked random beats along windswept isolated cliffs overlooking beaches that were no good for invasion simply because someone in the Command felt a little paranoid.

Cautiously at first, the Daggers approached the beachlines. They realized that this was going to be incredibly dangerous – but regardless, it had to be done. Inside the barbed wire, an entire nation was kept like in a prison camp – and it depended on them to save it. Nobody in Iesus would remember their names, even if they succeeded. Not one of them would cradle a Free Iesian child in his arms and have it say “Thank You, mister.” But they would do it anyway – at first, approaching the very line of the water without having even a single body feature exposed on the surface. Then, beginning to look for a place where the cliff-face fell straight into the water – and then, clinging to the wall, hiding as best as they could from the sentries, they began their climb.

The cliff was nearly unassailable. The sentries knew it – and hopefully it would make them less vigilant.

* * * *

Aboard the USS Semnetihaq, gun turrets swiveled, tracking the Iesian ships. The Hood-class monstrosity was able to aink all three with a single salvo, and yet so far the Allaneans were not worried. Their commanders knew that even if the signal did not come, they would have a backup plan or three. And even if the Semnetihaq would be intercepted, surrounded by Reichite ships, whatever – still, this was shaping up to be a very, very bad day for Bridgette Iesus.

The Captain of the heavy cruiser was content. She trusted her ships to be able to cripple the enemy warship. The Iesus navy had a long and proud tradition, the ships were well armed and the crews well trained.
She pulled her cap forward and signalled the comms officer to contact the enemy vessel.
“Foreign Vessel.
This is the Iesus Navy Vessel Renown, we wish to inform you that you are dangerously close to violating sovereign Reich waters. Should you need assistance we’d be happy to help.
Captain Claire Freemon. Out.”

And still in the city, there was no signal.

There was a second before the reply.

"Dear sir.

THe United States Navy vessel, the USS Semnetihaq, is carrying scientific personnel on a survey of maritime life forms in this area, as is our right in international waters. However, as we cannot enter Iesian waters due to the legal state of war between our nations, we would request that you provide us with information about marine life in Iesian waters themselves.

Sincerely yours,

Captain Howard D. Jones,
USS Semnetihaq"

And they waited.

The Iesus reply came back quickly....

“Captain Jones. It’s a pleasure!
You have me at something of a disadvantage I must admit…we weren’t aware of a state of war between our nations! I must honestly state that our government does not consider itself at war with you…Otherwise I’d have orders to try and sink you!
Sadly I can help you only a little in your task of scientific research of local marine life…besides ourselves of course *HAHA*
I do believe that there have been reported sightings of Steller's Sea Cows in the area. Perhaps you’re science personal would like to come over on a launch to our vessel and we could perhaps arrange for them a tour of the waters? You could also accompany them, and perhaps we could clear up this misunderstanding about a so-called ‘war’.

Captain Claire Freemon.”

Thankfully, aboard the USS Semnetihaq there was in fact a small lab, and a science officer – a young man of maybe 29, but already a Ph. D. It was he who penned the next message for the Iesian naval ship.

“Dear Sir!

Unfortunately, given that my government declared war on the Reich during the St. Dominic events, I am not allowed by law to step aboard your ship (unless we took it as a prize, of course! :D ) but I can share with you the base data collected by our sonar scanners, and photographs and so forth of our marine life samples to advance Iesian science. Perhaps a videoconference could be arranged to discuss the Steller's Cow issue?

Yours Sincerely,
Abraham Norton, Ph.D,
USN Semnetihaq Science Officer.”

“Doctor Norton and Captain Jones.
I believe our nations were co-operating at this difficult time in St Dominic, and it is unfortunate if this is not the case.
Saddly there is no one on this ship that is capable to discuss the scientific matters intelligently enough for your conference to be worth while. Perhaps the information could be forward to the Iesus Marine biology institute?
I must add I regret that your laws are so strict in this contact matter. But consider the invitation an open one…science and politics could have advanced! Or at least we could have polished off a couple of bottles of wine.

Captain Claire Freemon"

“Dear Mr. Fremont!

I am sorry that we are unable to meet, and by all means, feel free to forward the information to your institutes. In the meanwhile, a helicopter is en route to deploy two cases of fine Stuart Bourbon near your ship. They are attached to floatation equipment and will not sink – just fish them out. This is done so you don't think we are planning to drop bombs.

Yours Sincerely,
Abraham Norton, Ph.D,
USN Semnetihaq Science Officer.”

In the meanwhile, somewhere, Allanean soldiers were slowly rising up really stiff cliff faces.

“It’s them! Blast ‘em!”
The Allanean soldiers who were slowly rising up the cliff face were fired upon from above and from surrounding ridges. All types of gunfire blazed away at them and dull heavily thuds echoed through the night.
The soldiers stood little chance in their prone position on the cliff face….the Iesus fire was withering..cutting them down like maize. Within minutes there were no targets left….
It wasn’t war, it was murder.

The water near the three cargo ships bubbled and then the air was ripped by a terrible twisting noise…. The three cargo vessels rocked violently, massive holes appearing in their sides. Screams of the injured and dying were only drowned by the panic of those who tried to escape the stricken vessels as water flooded into them…
The massive tears in the metal caused the vessels to quickly slip beneath the surface….only the most agile and fast thinking escaping the watery grave.
Dozens of small Iesus craft speed to the site of the sinking vessels, pulling out those ‘lucky’ few survivors.

President Prieston stared numbly at the screen. Around him frantic people buzzed about. In a matter of moments everything had come apart. It was clearly betrayal….
“I’m not sure what we should do…we are betrayed. But I’m still in command of this operation. No one will fire without my express consent…I wont add insult to this already mangled operation…I'm so sorry...”

Howard Jones looked at the screen with rage. It took him several second to contain his rage.

"Mr. President, this ship has sufficient firepower to probably sink a large enemy compliment of warships, and escape - our maximum speed is 29.5 knots. Would you nevertheless prefer the Semnetihaq to run?"

"Mr Jones...I have no doubt about the courage and skill of your crew...or the ability of this vessel to sink many many Iesus ships. But I think you're missing the point somewhat.....we are betrayed...they know our plan.... If we fire I somehow doubt you'll just be facing three ships, its almost as if they want us to fire...
I believe it is folly to aid more of our dead to todays butchers bill."

"You are at command Mr. President. Let us now leave."

In the White House

“You guys screwed up. I don't need to state this again, do I?”

“But Mr. President.... “

“Shut up. Clearly if you don't think the death of hundreds if not thousands of Allaneans and Iesians is a screw up, you shouldnt' be talking.”

Kazansky pauses. “Here's what I want to be done. Continue giving Prieston money – but clarify that this money is for active, and I stress active, development of the rebel movement. Let him spend it on briibng Iesian officials, getting people in and out of Iesus, weapons, equipment, or whatever – just monitor it so he doesn't steal the money.”

“Uh?”

“We fund it. Also some will be funded by a number of... discrete charities.”

“So we fund it, he controls the cash flow?”

“It's his nation. He knows best how to save it. Also, ask him to tell us what he thinks we can do for him.”

“But, Sir, wouldn't it be better if we...controlled the effort?”

“Last did you controlled any effort, people ended up dead. So, let Prieston do it. After a while of him being at it, ask him to meet with me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Get it done.”