NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is not your standard 'history of our country' post. This is a full scale RP. The end has alredy been decided, but the means of achieving the end is open. It is in essence an open invite RP. I know htats on oxy-moron, and what I'm saying is I only really need one or two other countries to get involved. The RP takes place in the mid 1980s, and takes place in Imitora, maybe Larkinia (if he gets in) and possibly in Iansisle. The real world premise is based on a 'what if' scenario, what if teh countires of the UK (More specifically Ireland/Scotland/Whales) forcefully broke away from GB. The NS equivalent is that Imitor is a 'colony' if you will of Iansisle, and the people of Imitora have enough and try to forcefully break away. What I need right now is a country to play the 'Scotland' and a country to play 'Whales'. Right now, the only countries really involved are me, Iansisle, and Agrigento (supplying groups in Imitora). For more info, TGram me for more info if you want to get involved.

Whats happened so far:
One of the may freedom groups in Imitora bombed the Iansislanian embassy, and really took it out. They also lost qute a few people inteh attack, as they tried to do a 'movie style' attack where they all jumped out of the SUVs, and stood there opening fire from the hip and all. In response, Iansisle sent (or is sending) a large number of troops and armor. We also learn about one of the main groups, the Protestant Imitoran Republican Army (PIRA, not to be confused with the Provisional IRA, very creative and original, I know), is planing to kidnap some major persons in the Iansislanian governmnet in Imitora.

For those who want to get involved:
This takes place in the mid 80's, so no space fleets. That also means no plasma or laser weapons, no future tech. Period, no exceptions. Also, if you claim support for Iansisle, and you want to get involved in the fighting, you MUST send troops. No fighters, no mass bombings, nothign like that. You're not fighting a stand up fight, your fighting people in the streets. Anyways, technically, at the time, I'm still under control of Iansisle, so you'll need to ask him for permision to do anything. There will also be no magic, no elves, no dwarfs or gnomes or what ever else you like. There will also be, other than from Iansisle, no sleepers in anay of the Imitoran groups, as seeing that the Iansislanians would be the only ones who would possibly be able to blend in, as they have been there teh longest. If I and Iansisle and Agrigento think nessacery, I'll take the stuff posted in our Alliance Forum and move it here. So, if you want in, please TGram me and tell me what part you want, and if you want to support Iansisle, then TGram him as well. Thanks much for your time, and I hope we can make this a good RP.

Wooohoo! Patriot Games!
But seriously, since some of the Irish revoulitionary groups were commies, can Barvaria-Studenland play the part of the USSR?

Uhmm... I'll join, but I'm not sure who I'll represent. Can I be mercenaries, or something like that?

***Wonders if B-S (teehee) knows the leader of the PIRA's military unit is named Sean Miller...and looks strangly liek Sean Bean... I'll have to ask Iansisle if he's cool with it, because there is one Communist group. ANyways, try to keep thses questions to TGram, I'd liek to keep OOC in this thread to a minimum.

Ok, its been decided that it would be easier for you to see whats been going on, So I'm gonna Cut/Copy/Paste wahts been happening in my forums to here.

(Hehe, stop calling it "Whales"! If you weren't several thousand miles away I'd swear you'd just watched the same epp of Only Fools and Horses..)

(Since I don't want to spam an interesting thread, I thought I'd just edit this post to say that "Wales" would be okay.)

Ok, fine, what do you want me to call it all that is knowing of UK culture And as soon as you get the Brits out of Ireland, where they have no right in hell to be, maybe I'll stop calling it Whales

There will also be no magic, no elves, no dwarfs or gnomes or what ever else you like.

Come on, its Ireland, what about Leprachauns???

Part 1:
Imitora
The site was a total mess. The building that was once the Iansislanian Embassy in its commonwealth country Imitora, was no a smoldering mass of concrete and steel, and glass and bodies. 12 dead Imitorans, not including the driver of the first Bronco, lay dead, riddled by rounds of multiple calibers. Several Iansislanian troops made sure people stayed back from the site, the Imitoran police purposly not doing anything. November 13th, 1985, marked the begening of the seperation.
November 13th, 4:12 am
-Craverd Port Communial Housing
Mike Cromerd rolled off his low bunk, his feet comming into contact with the cold floor. He straightend up and shook his room mate. His room mate was Catholic, Mike was a protestant, yet they had put aside there differnces long enough to unite for a common goal. To remove Iansilanian influence from Imitora. Imitora was one of the last Iansilanian Colonies, and enough people had had enough to decide it was time to change.
The attack would, if succesful, be a sharp stab to Iansislanian Troops. They already had to handle enough with the Northern Protestants, who believed the northern part of Imitora was their cultural home, and the Northern Catholics fighting it out on a daily basis. The south of Imitora, or the southern most islands in the Imitoran chain, tried not to get involved, but it was fairly hard when friends and family lived under constant threat of attack.
Less than an hour later, Mike sat alone in a light blue Ford Bronco. He watched as the last of te gaurds, Iansislanian soldiers, enter the embassy. There was a light gaurd in front of the building, they wouldn't offer much threat. Mike looked tohis left, and saw a white Bronco, whose driver nodded at him. On his right, in a black Bronco, the process was repeated.
Mike slammed down hard on the gas, the tires chirping breifly, as he sped towards teh embassy. The street was relativly empty, and as people saw teh incomming Bronco, tehy dove out of the way. The gaurds didn't know how to react, and only one opened fire. The 5.56mm round from his rifle pireced the windshield, sending glass into Mike's face. He shut his eyes tight, and never took his foot off the gas.
The back of the Bronco was loaded down with over 30 pounds of explosives. The first floor of the of the embassy collapsed under the explosion, the intense over pressure from the blast sucking inhabitants towards what was once a light SUV. The sudden extreme heat flash burned the carpeting and wood furniture. The steel beams of the embassy gave out under the force from the balst, and the second and third story both fell in on the first.
By the time the two other Broncos had rolled up, there was already little chance of any survival in the embassy. But that wasnt their concern. The gaurd house was located behind the embassy, and teh gaurds had already begun to file out, only to come under fire from 12 men, armed with AK47s and M16s, with the occasional G3. However, twelve inexpirenced men, firing from the hip, were no match for 25 well armed, well trained soldiers, who, within 15 minutes, had gunned down the Imitoran shooters

Agrigento
”Franco, hurry up and get the crates off the truck. If the border patrol catches us with this its all over!"
"Si, Si. Calm down. Didn't I tell you that the Carabinieri was taken care of?", said Franco.
"Chiudi la bocca baccala!! We still got to get on the move.", said the other man.
"Va bene, testardo", replied Franco.
The two men, along with several others, began to carry crates from an old Aghrabel Military truck into five Fiat Vans

Imitora
It was about four in the afternoon, the setting sun beating down on the back of the necks of the men standing out in the field. They were more than a hundred miles from the nearest town, and even then, they had the small town's sympathies. In front of everyman at about fifteen feet were wooden stands, in the shape of a human, with the Iansislanian flag hanging from the neck. Each man held a pistol, mostly Colt .45s, but one man held a Beretta M93. He rose it to eye level, and opend up into one of the wood stands, and sent splinters flying as he squeezed off teh 9mm rounds. He allowed his thumb to slde up, and fingered teh magazine realese, and the empty magazine fell from teh gun into his hand. He pocketed teh magazine, and sliped in another. Fliping the small lever above the trigger, he now sent of a three round burst everytime he pulled the trigger. He held his left hand up, and the other men on the range stopped firing as a young boy walked up.
"Hey kiddo, go get me the other flag."
The boy nodded, and ran back to the tent that he and his father shared. He jogged from the tent back down range, and slid the Blue and White flag over the Iansislanian flag.

Iansisle
Ernst Pettindale, the Iansislean Minister for Commonwealth Relations (the office currently held by Sir Edmond Kaldwell), fingered his glasses. The recent news from Imitora didn't bode well, not well at all!
"Oh dear, oh dear," he fretted, pushing a button on his desk. The intercom buzzed.
"Yes, sir?" came the tinny reply from the next room.
"Edwardson, thank god you're in. There's more trouble in Imitora - terribly bad this time!"
"The bombing, sir?"
"My god, man! How'd you know?"
"It's all over the news, sir. IanCorp reporters have been covering it for the last hour and a half straight."
"Yes, of course they have," sighed Pettindale, biting his lower lip. Why didn't his subordinates ever let him know about that sort of thing!? "Has action been taken yet?"
"Yes, sir. A council has convened to discuss Home Rule again. I...don't know how far it'll get, sir. Howard's been apointed again." 'Howard' meant Richmond Howard, the firebrand imperialist. Any Home Rule comittee with him on it wasn't likely to get far at all.
They did all this without even needing my signature? wondered Pettindale, his nervous features twitching slightly.
"There's more, too, sir. The Ministry of War is sure that a deployment of force is what the situation needs. They've gone right over our heads, shipping another three divisions (6,000 men and equipment) and a company of armor to Imitora," said Edwardson, his voice sounding bitter even over the mediocre intercom. "They even want our good will on deploying bombers and sending the fleet!"
"What help would aeroflyers and ships be against a rabble of terrorists?"
"I don't know, sir. I don't like how radical the MoW has become with regard to colonial managment. Remember the massacre in Port Laughlin?"
"It would be hard to forget, Edwardson," sighed Pettindale. "Please, keep me posted."
"Yes, sir."

Imitora
Micheal O'Connor was running to his office. Traffic was horrible, and he needed to be there fast. He ran into the building, and skipped the elevator, talking the stairs to his third story office. He grabbed the phone, and punched through to his secretary. "Get me someone in Iansisle," he said, trying to force his breathing down. "I dont care who, jsut someone important. I need to make sure they wont do anythign drastic."
O'Connor had one of the hardest jobs in Imitora. He had to make sure that relations between Iansisle and Imitora stayed 'frosty'.

Agrigento
The five Fiat trucks moved swiftly through the countryside as they made their way to the picturesque seaside city. Police presence would be heavy in the city, and they had to drop there cargo before they made it inside. The site of their border crossing would have been discovered by now, and the little evidence they left would have been quickly analyzed by the effective Carabinieri. Advisories probably went out hours ago informing local police to be on the lookout for suspicous vans or trucks.
About 5 miles from the city limits the convoy of vans pulled off the autostrada and onto a small dirt road, worn from years of use by the local farmers. The soft dirt made for very difficult driving conditions and they took it slow. Finally the trek ended at an old, seemingly uninhabited farm house. The vans pulled into an adjacent barn. In the corner of the barn was what appeared to be large ditch with a wooden bottom. To the side of it was an equally large wooden deck covered in sand that must have been its cover. The men got out and began to unload the crates one at a time. Each crate was placed gently in the secret ditch and when the deed was completed the heavy wooden cover was pushed on top of it. Once the compartment was secure decoy boxes filled with papers were placed onto the vans and the men drove off toward Murano.

Imitora
In one of the proverbial secret under ground bunkers, two men hovered over a map. A little girl stood beside on of the men, her dark brown hair bouncing as she jumped, trying to get a good look at the map. The man standing nex to her bent over, picked her up, and sat her down on the table, so that she could see the map. "Whats this a map of daddy?" she asked, staring up at her father with 'doe eyes'.
"Its home pumpkin," he said. He rubbed her head, and helped her down. He smiled as she scammpered out of the room. He looked back at the map. "I really dont know Jack, I mean, it seems rather risky, more so than anythign we've done so far. I mean, maybe this morning," it had been a little more than three hours since the attack, "was dumb, but this is just, suicide."
"Will, think of it this way. Your not just doing it for yourself. Your not doing it for our freedom, your doing it for her," he said, noding his head in the direction the man's daughter had run off in. "And think, if we pull this off, we wont need to be so low key anymore. We wont have to try and get weapons behind the sceens. We can stand up and finally fight. Aye?" he finished.
"Aye. Lets do it. Soon."
"Right-o. I'll tell the boys."
------
On a street corner, not to far from the bombing site, a man with a sandwhich bored stood with a megaphone, shouting out to the people on the side walk, some ignoring, but many stopping to listen. He repeated his speech several times over.
"Fight to be free. Yes, free. We are slaves to the colonial empire. Slaves to those who live in luxury, thousands of miles away. They try to rule us with an iron fist, and lie to us, saying we have power. The only power we have is the sword. we cna't stand by and let them control us. If they want to rule us, then why dont the come here to rule us? Why do they only have a political govenor? Where is tehir king? Safe at home in his castle while we stand under the oppresion of the government. Now's our time to fight, now we must rise up and take control of our future. For too long wer have been devided between Catholic and Protestant, North and South, Liberal and Conservative. Now is the time to put aside our differences and unite for the common goal of freedom!"
The powerful speech was, for the most part, gathering a good amount of support. Men and women from one of the many rebel groups, well concealed by the crowds, passed out flyers, randomly picking people they though would be easily swayed to one of their groups. They looked for possible recruits to fight the Iansilanian troops. And, they had carefuly made sure that they themselves wer not armed at all.

Part 2:

Agrigento
The vans made there way through Murano, being stopped a total of six times by the police. Each time they were let go. They arrived at there destination two weeks from where it began in Licentamo. The place was a secluded port facility with abandoned warehouses on either side. The vans pulled up and the two dozen delivery men got out to meet their sponsors.
"Ah, you have done well comrades", said Mikhail Lazaarovich Andreyanov.
"Yeah, we have, now what about our money?", asked Franco.
"Da, I almost forgot about your reward", he turned to another man and spoke in Russian. " “Alexy here will see to that, dasvindanyas".
He began to walk to a waiting boat. In the distance he could here the sound of automatic gunfire as his men paid the delivery boys.

The massive Mi-26 landed uneventfully in the rural farmland. It was probably seen by the locals, but that wouldnt matter in about thirty minutes. Quickly the crates were loaded on board the helicopter by twenty masked men in full battle dress and it was back in the air shortly thereafter.

Imitora
The sound of the nine millimeter automatic submachine gun was muffled by the attached supressor, and the only visible confirmation that the gun was being fired by anyone other than the shooter was the flag fluttering as it was hit, and the puff of sand being kicked up as the bullets passed through the wood target. There was hardly any recoil, and the gun itself made no sound other than the 'click' off the hammer hitting the bullet. The shooter smiled.
"How many of these did we buy?" he asked the man standing next to him.
"Uh, 15," he replied in a slight Middle Eastern accent. "Yes, 15 MP5SDs, 100 Colt M16s, and 100 AK 47s. For a total cost of $150,000. To be paid on delivery. So, how will you be paying?" The Arabic man wasn't comfortable. He had spent time in the company of many a terrorist, but a man fighting for his freedom, or at least conviced he was, was a very dangerous person.
"Hmmm, hows about, say, a money order?"
"Mr. Miller (OOC: Get the connection, get a cookie), I think we agreed on cash. Up front."
"Well, see Mr. Vadir, I dont have $150,000 right now, but, I do have a $150,000 bullet."
Before Mr. Vadir could even offer a confused look, Miller pulled the barrel of the MP5SD up, and shot him in the chest twice.

Iansisle
The phone rang in the outside office. Edwardson picked it up. "Ministry of Commonwealth Relations, front office. May I help you?"
Imitora
"Micheal O'Connor, I'm the one in charge here of making sure relations stay calm between our two nations. So, first I need to say that the attack this morning was not a local sponserd attack, and right now we are doing our best to find out who did it. I'd also like to know what the government of Iansisle is doing in response to these attacks. I think it would be best if we tried to keep a low key response to this, a sizeable military action wouldn't be very good. Right now, teh people are pushing, as you probably know, for a break, and a large scale action wont appear liek a reasonable response to them."

Imitora
A bit off OOC Info you might find helpful:
The main five groups you are gonna come up against:
SICSF-Speratists Imitora Comunist Special Forces, Ultra Communist militant group, one of the most militant. The'll attack the Protestant groups, Catholic Groups, Combined Groups, and Iansilanians. Their whole point is a Communist Imitora. They are the least liked of all the groups.
CFGL-Catholic Group for Liberation, moderate political, they believe that Catholics have the rightful claim to Imitora, and once the Iansislanians are out, they plan to go back after the Protestants. They are one of the only groups that arent going to work with any of the other groups to get the Iansislanians out.
CINA-Combined Imitora National Army, right wing, semi militant, the CINA, along with the Protestant Imitora Republican Army (PIRA, damn creative, aint it.), they are the true freedom fighters. While the SICSF and the CFGL are out killing each other and memebers of other minor groups, the CINA has block parties, holds comunial dinners, fund raisers, and the like. They, along with the PIRA realise that now the only way to gain freedom is through violence, but wish there was another way to gain it. The CINA and the PIRA join togther to fight, and actually get along. The CINA convinced the PIRA to at least start taking to Catholics about joining.
PIRA-Protestant Imitoran Republican Army, right wing, semi militant. The PIRA was the first group to start getting the support of the community, and the leader of the CINA used to be a memeber of the PIRA. The PIRA was formed to combat groups like the CFGL, and started out as militant, but changed in the mid 70's. The PIRA is made up mostly of ex-Military/Police types, and is, above all, the most well respected group. The PIRA is known for throwing the biggest communial gatherings, and has yet to have a single bit of violence happen to one of their gatherings in over 15 years. The PIRA is the group we see at the camp, and as do all the groups, they have thier black sheep (point in case:Sean Miller)
PIO-The Protestant Imiotra Only, ultra militant group like CFGL, but Protestant and not Catholic. The PIO also refuses to join any of the other groups with forcing Iansisle out of Imitora. The PIO was responsible for the bombing that started the break.

Agrigento
"Alexy, is this man really worth all this?", asked Andreyanov.
"Da comrade, he is one of the best, I am sure of it.", responded Alexy
"We can do this on our own Misha, we do not need another man, especially one not from the Rodina (phonetic russian for motherland).", said Natasha.
"What does it matter what country he is from?", said Alexy.
"Niete, it means nothing, he better be as good as you say Alexy", said Andreyanov.
The van rolled smoothly into the driveway. The house was strangely out of place in this part of north Islandia. It was surrounded by warehouses and very near to the sea. This house was distinctly of mediterranean architecture. It was two floors, although the majority of the second floor was a balcony. Sitting up on that floor in a reclinging lawn chair was a man apparently sun tanning. He heard the large FIAT van coming and lowered his sunglasses. He knew who they were.
"Took you guys long enough.", he shouted down.
"Agrigentian pig. Alexy we do not need this man!!", said Natasha.
"Tasha, be quiet. This is more dangerous than you think.", said Alexy.
A few minutes later the man was down the stairs and opening up the front door.
"Alexy, its been a while, how ya doing?", asked the Agrigentian man as he hugged Alexy.
"Let us get to business", said Mikhail Lazaarovich and then he walked through the opened door.
"Fine, right this way comrade. You guys will want some vodka I assume", he said as he showed them into his living room and told them to sit. He walked into the adjacent kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Absolut and some glasses. "Here you go", he said handing a glass to Andreyanov. "One for you Alexy, and one for you bella".
Alexy lifted his glass, "Nastrovia"
"Nastrovia", the Agrigentian replied.
"Nastrovia", said Andreyanov.
Natasha sat there silently with her cup still sitting on the table.
"So, Alexy told me that you needed a guy for some job. Can I get some intel on the situation as well as payment?"
"Well Vinny", he said calling the Agrigentian man by his first name. "We have been hired by a benefactor who wishes to remain anyonymous to go into Imitora and help out the local freedom fighters. This isn't a simple mission but the money is good.", he finished.
"How good?"
"3 million Republican Marks each", said Alexy.
"Hell yeah, I'm in!", said Vinny. He had built this house with money from jobs like this and he was looking foward to putting in a guest house among other things.
"Just like you Agrigentians, to jump at a chance for money!", said Natasha, forgetting that she joined up for the same reasons a few years ago.
"Oh I like you already, your an added bonus on this mission", said Vinny.
Natasha's face grew red with anger and her stare became one of utter contempt. Her personality dictated for her to remain cool and the professional soldier was able to keep from killing or trying to kill the musclar man sitting across from her.
They spoke for about an hour, sorting out details.
"Vinny, why don't you show us to our rooms, we need to be rested for tom.", asked Alexy.
"What? We are staying here? With him!?!", asked Natasha.
A cold stare from Andreyanov silenced her.
"Yeah right this way."
Vinny showed them all to there rooms. The house was very large and each of the bedrooms was about the size of a suite. He brought Alexy and Mikhail to there rooms first.
"Here it is, if you get scared my room is right down the hall.", said Vinny as he showed Natasha his room. Natasha shook her head and walked into the room slamming the door shut behind her.
Vinny continued down the hall and entered the master bedroom, easily the most lavish one in the house. He got undressed and collapsed in the bed.

Imitora
"Hey Miller," came a call from behind the obvious leader of the small group of Imitorans. "About teh dinner tonight, do you think we should call it off, I mean, with the attack and everything, we might have problems with the authorities?" the young female asked, her longish red hair tied up into a simple ponytail.
"We cant. We need to show them we arent afraid. We need to throw this party tonight. We need to show them we are strong," he said, pulling her close to him, romantically, as he finished. As the last word rolled from his mouth, the door to the room they were standing in nearly exploded open, and several 'armed' target boards began splintering with bullet holes, the only sound being the 'click' of the bolts hitting the rounds. The unarmed ones wer maniquins, and the men with the MP5SDs ran to them, throwing htem to the ground, and pulling them through the hallway.
Outside of teh house, five men, armed with AK47s with 100 round drum mags stood gaurd. Suddenly, three cardboard cutouts of Jeeps, with actual automotive glass on the side windows, were pulled out on rollers. The 5 with AKs opened fire, making sure all teh rounds impacted the windows. Two more real Broncos came around the corner, and the backs opened, and 4 men armed with M16s jumped out of each, forming a protective perimiter against a fake enemy, and the men who had entered the building came out, and tossed the maniquins in the back.
Another man standing outside the house looked at a stop watch. "13 minutes. Perfect. It takes 9 minutes just to alert teh police and Iansislanian Troops, and 12 for them to get there in rush hour. If we do this just right, all will be fine."
Miller walked out of the house, brushing his somewaht long hair out of his eyes. "Then it looks like we got ourselves a mission. Now, to Croton. We have a BBQ to throw.

Iansisle
Edwardson could have hit himself on the head. "I'm afraid the Ministry of War would disagree with you, sir. They've authorized the deployment of three more King's Divisions to Imitora." He paused to listen to the obvious complaints. "Yes, well, I'm afraid the Ministry of Commonwealth Relations can't do much about that. You'd have to talk to the Ministry of War...yes, I can connect you...it's not MY fault, sir....yes, thank you as well."
Edwardson pushed a button to connect the call down to the Admiralty, shaking his head.
__________________
The phone ringing was shrill. After several attempts, through various offices, the call eventually ended up in the room of Duke Alain St. Jacques, the Minister of War.
"Hello?" he asked, rather irratated. He had just been on his way home.

Imitora
"Huh, hello," O'Connor said into hte phone. "This is Micheal O'Connor, my job is to make sure relations stay, cool, if you will between us and teh crown and all. Its come to my attention that you have sent quite a large number of troops to arrive here. I beleive this isnt going to do anythign to help relations, and, in fact, will make things worse."
____
In the street, the group had turned from a small gathering to a full scale protest. People were no shotting in the streets, shouting things like "Fight the oppression," and "Down with the crown". IT had gone all to plan, and recruitment for the CINA and PIRA would definatly go up. At the 'blcok party' that night, a meeting would be held for all intrested in joining. The hope among the PIRA and CINA members there was that no police or troops would show up now, it was all to perfect.
_____
One young man at the rally was die hard into joining. He had found teh speech rivioting, and the cause true. Mix that with teenage ambition and the sudden desire to stand out and impress the girls, he was dead set on it. "Hey, Hoot!" a voice called out, causing the young man to turn. A yong brunette was standing a few feet away, yet her voice was barely audible above teh roar of the crowd. He made his way over to her, fighting through the group.

Bump for views, and this is my last OOC only post in thei thread.

OOC-Please check your TGs for info on my involvement in this RP.

Joshua MacKenzie stood outside the CINA rally, trying not to raise suspicion. Hopefully that wouldn't be too hard, because as a ex-Force Recon, ex-SpecOps, and ex-NE secret service member, all he had to show for it was a military style haircut. As a soldier of fortune, prospects weren't looking good. All the sane Imitoran breakaway factions seemed well off, and he'd be damned if he went for the ultra religous types. He sighed, and went back to the hotel room.

Seconds after the door closed, a knock could be heard at Josh's hotel door. "Room service," a voice called through the light wooden door that made it fairly clear that he wasnt really room service. Through the peep hole, Josh could see two men, who looked rather unintrested in their surroundings, dressed in a very non descript manner.

With his SIG P226 silenced in his jacket pocket, he answered the door, careful not to expose too much of himself.
"Yes...?"

The door was forced open quickly, slamming into his face, hard eogh to stun, but not break the nose. The men were in the room quickly, and one had pulled a Browing Hi Power, leveling it on him, the other holding him against the bed, placing a Colt .45 on the base of his neck.

"Christ Jake, shouldn't we try to recruit a little less violently, I mean, Jesus man, you act like your gonna kill him," the man with the Browing said. "Let him up," he said. "He's no threat."

'Jake' stepped back, and pulled teh man up, holstering his Colt. "Aye, I see then. No hard feelings bud," he said, extending his hand to Josh. Jake Cooly, and my intrepid partner over there who kept me for shooting you for no odd reason is Craig.

The man with the Browing, now lowering it to a holster, smiled.

"Geez, I go back for a piss and I get guns to my head. But really, I guess it pays to be paranoid around here. Now, care to tell me the meaning for all this?"

"Aye," Carig said, stepping forward. "We saw you at the meeting. We can tell you were intrested. You left with that 'unintrested' look. That means you were intrested. So, what exactly is it you want to know?" he finished, sitting at the table in the center of the room.

Jake opened the mini bar, and pulled out a small bottle of whiskey. "Yeah, we know your kind. Ex-military, looking for adventure. Well, If thats the case, then you dont want PIRA or CINA. We arent the go out and blow things to hell type. We dotn shoot up buildings for random reasons. We plan our stuff out. We live in the cities, we and accept for our bootcamps, hardly ever go into the woods or forest to hide. While other groups are out strapping bombs to cars, we have hospitals in the streets for the sick and other wise unable to afford health care. Sure, we can pull things off big, and we do, jsut not as often as teh other groups."

"Sounds like you don't know my type."
Josh continued, scratching his head.
"Adventure? Not really. The first thing I learned at Halisfavon, like anyone here knows where or what the damn place is, is that everything must be coordinated. Hell, you blast things up too much, you die. I specialize in stealthy, tactical operations. Adivsory on such. That sort of thing. I do this because I came back home and was not allowed to try anything else. So now I'm here."
He sat down on the bed.
"Now are you gonna sterotype me and leave, or are you gonna hire me? I didn't come here to take sh*t."

Craig looked at Jake, and spoke in an unitelligible language, which sounded like a mix between Latin, French, and German. "Ok, your in, but we cant pay ya. We arent a buisness, nor an army. We cant just throw cash at people to come fight for us."

NE, this wa be going anywhere to soon, I cant find some one to take the place of Iansisle. If you can find someone who doesnt mind getting whuped up on to play an empirical country in 1985ish, teh send them my way, and maybe we can start over again, or pick up with a slight amount of editing.

(sorry I had to drop out of this :(

It just doesn't really fit with the flavor of my country, I'm afraid. Still, good luck to all still-involved parties!)

No worries man, maybe if we dont do this now, and I'm still active when you hit 80's era technology (if you get that far) we can try it again.