NationStates Jolt Archive


Car Bomb Blast in Bonstock

18-09-2003, 21:01
Bonstock Academy
It was lunch time, the students were gathering at the luxurious lounge for their lunch. No cafeteria here, not for these student. Not for the children of wealth elite of Bonstock. Under the lounge, the kitchen was a busy hive of activity. The staff working hard putting the finishing touches on the dishes to be served; no one noticed a delivery truck backing up to the loading dock. No one would ever get a second chance to either. Just as the truck stop backing up, an explosion ripped through the building.

PCBL Hidden HQ
Political Officer Carett was look over a list of Socialist and left-leaning politicians. Whom would be the first to die, she thought. The idea of killing these watered down communist gave her much pleasure, almost more than killing capitalist. Confusing the public into believing the right-wing forces were out to create a fascist state was a great strategy, and would allow the PCBL to eliminate the competition and the capitalist at the same time.
An assistant came rushing in and dropped a report on her desk, talking fast about some attack.
Carett quickly read the report and left at once, shouting “Those stupid f**ks!”

PCBL Safe House
A joyous celebration was going on by the operational and planning cell members, their attack would surely show the government that the PCBL was not to be ignored. Then the Sandlewood Political Officer burst in such a rage.
“Who order that attack!?! Who’s responsible for this!?!” Carett demanded.
“I am, what of it,” responded the senior planner, “I was given full authority to conduct operations, and I don’t need some foreign woman officer telling me when and how!”
Less than a second later, the senior planner crash through a wood table; his sudden flight was due to Carett giving him a round house kick. Pulling himself up quickly, and he tried to protest such treatment, but found it very difficult to speak with a gun jammed in his mouth.
“You’re such an amateur,” said Carett coldly. “You’re little attack has just wiped out any sympathy that we were developing with the public, you stupid, worthless f**k!”
The senior planner never had a chance to even fully process what she had said, the back of his head was missing at the work “stupid”.
Turning to the remaining planners and operatives, “In the future, you will seek the Liberation Council authorization before carry out any mission, understood? No one had any objections to Carett’s orders.
18-09-2003, 21:02
did u get permission
18-09-2003, 21:03
OOC: yes, to a degree.
18-09-2003, 22:00
Moving quickly to keep the element of surprise own their side, various PCLB cells were activated. Attacks and assault that were to be carried out later were now in full swing. Propaganda effort from the Popular Front waned a bit, but no one in PCBL cared.

Outside Port Yuko
Three trucks each carrying 40 large pipes toward a construction site stop on the side of the road, they are just down hill from the mansions of the rich and famous. No one really notices them parked their since there’s a new mansion being constructed not to far away.

The pipes are long, so they have been set in the truck bed with one end resting over the truck’s cab. All the pipes are at a 45 degree angle. Minutes after parking a pickup stop, the truck drivers jumping and the pickup speeds off.

Just as the sun rises over Port Yuko, the morning calm is broken by the sound of rapid firing of rockets from the back of the trucks. The pipes were loaded with modified rockets normally fired from a Russian BM-21 “Grad”. They have a limited flight but can pack nice size punch.

One truck explodes into a giant fireball just after 5 rockets are launched. The other two truck are able to unload without exploding, but over 1/3 of their rockets explode harmlessly in the air and many others over shoot their targets.
18-09-2003, 22:17
---Post deleted by NationStates Moderators---
18-09-2003, 22:55
18-09-2003, 23:05
Port Yuko, Bonstock
The main commercial docks are always a busy place, ships coming and going, tractor trailers and railcars waiting good to be load and unloaded. Few workers had time to worry about the last news of motorcycle gunmen riding through the downtown financial district shooting up businessmen, the rocket attack on mansions or even that several banks and armored cars had been robbed in the last few weeks. They had work to be done.

A small oil freighter had just arrived and need to be unloaded. The dockhands secured the vessel, a crane lowered the tubes to begin pumping out the oil, and pipeline was soon filled with crude oil head to a nearby refinery. All the work had going just smoothly. Then, as if hell had broken through ground the port was built on, the oil handling area of the port was engulfed in explosions and flames. The blasts ruptured the pipeline shooting flames 30 to 40 feet in the air, workers not already dead were running for cover as cranes collapsed and the floating docks crumbled into the harbor.