NationStates Jolt Archive

[Begin transmission]

--Steigian News Broadcasting Network (SNBN)--
Entsteig Under Attack!

A small province in Entsteig, Insteeria, has recently suffered from a series of sporadic attacks in five (5) cities in which women and children have been specifically targeted. It seems that rebel snipers from a distant country have decided to instill fear into the hearts of citizens of other countries. The cities were connected by a large ring of highways, all noticable and important urban and suburban centers in the province.

A van located in each of the cities near where the heaviest shooting occured contained seemingly illegibly scribbled manuscripts in a strange, linear design, all different in order...however, all had a large X in the middle surrounded three rings and a number of "rays" spanning out from it at the end of the messages.

King Hedrik XII has decided to meet with prominent leaders of other countries in this attempt to decipher this code and to see if other countries have been attacked recently or in the past. That is all for now...

Next, the healing properties of green tea and common herbs--

*sound of TV switching off*

King Hedrik XII shook his head. Will other countries be next? he thought. With all the chaos in the region, Alpineholm, King Hedrik already had a lot on his hands.

"Sir?" inquired an agent.
"Yes?" Hedrik replied sleepily.
"I know this is not my place, but...my grandfather once told me about signs similar to the ones shown on TV, since the country of origin was where his own parents were from, and it pained him deeply whenever he spoke of it. My grandfather said that his parents had been killed by rebels, and his mother had been mutilated in such a way it was unrecognizable. *shudders* Do you think that this could be the same rogue group?" asked the agent.
"Hmm...we will see..." mused the king.

[Begin video transmission]

To: All Nations

*A man in his early 40's with glasses, a brown mustache, goatee, and slightly messy hair appears on the screen. His eyes seem very sad his tone is melancholy.*

"Seeing as how few nations have responded so far, we urge you to help The Holy Kingdom of Entsteig find the origin of the snipers and where they are headed next. Please consider coming to the aid of Entsteig. In doing so, you will have won powerful allies--both the nation of Entsteig and the medium-sized region of Alpineholm. Though Entsteig is not the UN Delegate right now, it is in a powerful position in Alpineholm and has had a considerable effect on it. You have King Hedrik's word for it. Please think about it, leaders. After all, your country may be next to be attacked.

Regards,
International Diplomat Hamun R. Larozt

[End video transmission]

”We offer all of the assistance that we can spare. We do sympathize with your people and abhor these attacks. However, while we do pledge full support I hope that you can understand that the attacks upon our government will be occupying the majority of our resources. We must band together to find those that would attack us before any more innocent nations are attacked.”

http://www.dyrms.freeserve.co.uk/Generals/Wellington.jpg
Acting Prime Minster, Acting Regent Louis Cessar

SECRET IC:
"Project what?"
"Project Transcend. Our genetics team have been working overtime on it, it's extremely confidential. Not even the the Delegate or Director Nations know about it."
"Did I approve it?"
"Your predicessor did. By the time you were elected, it would have cut too much into the confidential funds to cancel."
"So you've basically created what?"
"A superhuman would be the simplest term. Superior strength and endurance, all of his senses have been heightened, and his reflexes are insane."
"What are we going to do with him?"
"Test him. Entsteig has recently encountered snipers. We'll sneak him in to off the snipers, then sneak him back out."
"His equipment?"
"High-friction boots, a mechanical activation glove, a mechanical disabler glove, and a set of retractable blade gauntlets."
"Total cost?"
"The Project was cut from biology research, the equipment from military research."
"See to it. But if he's caught, he has never met or interacted with anyone from Muktar, got it?"
"Yes, sir."

We are condemning these acts and sending a CVBG to the area to preserve peace.
with
2 Halsey class CVNX with 91 F-35 JSF each plus support planes like AWACS, helos, and S-3s
9 DDG-51 class destroyers
4 CG-47 class cruisers
3 fleet replenishment ships
4 los angeles and seawolf class subs
2 Perry class frigates

RedCommunist is willing to send Red Cross Aid and Peacekeepers to help protect the government leaders.

Note:This is NOT RFF acting! It is a Hitman.
Silas parked the van he was supposed to drive on missions for the order. He got out and popped the trunk. He reached into the trunk and pulled out a baseball bag. He went to his vantage point and pulled out a Walther WA 2000 Sniper Rifle. His job was simple... take out the target, bring the body back to the order, and take the body back to the seen of the crime. He aimed the crosshairs right between a woman with long blond hair's eyes...

The Empire of D.A., however small and new, would like to help in any way possible to fend off any further attack on Entsteig. I am awaiting further instructions from our military about the number of troops, if any, we can send to help hunt down the Snipers. Many of our troops were recruited from larger nations in the region, so many are experienced, but have yet to work together. This could be a good test for them to prove their allegiance to me by obeying my commands. It may not be our business, but together if we battle and win, our new nation along with yours will hopefully unit.

**
In his leisure time Prime Minister Baragh IV spends his time getting to know more of what public opinion is like from his ridiculously large and overly priced projection TV. Sitting comfortably in his extra large, quadruple thick cushioned sofa of his recreation chambers, the hobgoblin Prime Minister flips to a satellite feed of a bedraggled looking human asking for help investigating snipers.

"Peh," Baragh snorts, "with a victim mentality like that, no wonder his people are getting shot at. Humans are so pathetic." A servant yes-man standing to the side waiting for Baragh's beverage needs nods his head in agreement.

Baragh flips the satellite channel before the pleas of the troubled human are done with to a local feed of "Bigtopians Say the Darndest Things," and proceeds to chortle heartily. "Silly humans."

In a small village in Entsteig, a man walked into town. He wore black leather boots, a long leather jacket, black gloves, dark blue jeans, and a blue sweatshirt. He looked around, took a step, cocked his head, then whirled into an empty barn. He lept up to the second level, where a sniper was looking down at the street. The man in black smirked, and a long, thin blade slide out of his sleeve, seemingly attached to his wrist. Silently, he walked toward the sniper, who's back was to the man in black. He pulled back his arm just as the sniper smirked at a spotted target. The man in black stabbed downward.

All across the village, Entsteigians heard a gunshot and a painful scream.

A genocide, eh?
Yes, overpopulation is becoming a problem...
AH! No...
We'll provide you with all humanitarian and financial aid we can afford, as long as you do not ask for military help or a housing for refugees. Our age long peaceful policies have become regularity among our people. I would hate to interrupt their epoch of prosperity and happiness.

Hattia is alarmed by these reports. We would like to help in any way possible to assist your nation and to prevent this from spreading.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/olmedia/1955000/images/_1958701_oleynik_300.jpg
People's General Sergei Leningrad Genorlov (Ret.)
Commisar of the Congress
Acting Prime Minister of Hattia

Half a second after he pulled Silas felt the blade penetrate his back. He felt life pouring from his body. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell. He dialed the number 572-5570. "I have f-f-f-failed you. The w-w-w-w-oman is dead but I was attacked. I can not bring her b-b-ack. I am s-s-or-r-ry." And then his breath stoped.

Edmund Warspite, Durtistan's Lord Protector, stared at his laptop and sighed. Of all his duties, the International Security briefing was the one he liked the least. It didn't help that his Intelligence Advisor was a career diplomat and never said anything in three words when many, many more would suffice. Warspite wasn't a fan of the civil service.

"And now the situation in Entsteig, Lord Protector" said the Advisor. He was a slim, sallow man with a hairline that wasn't so much receeding as in full retreat and he laboured under the name of Olwyn Hartstick.

"What of it?" The Lord Protector had skipped ahead to the defence procurement budget, amazed at what the Navy decided it needed.

"There have been some killings, Lord, directed at civilian targets. Soft civilian targets, in a manner that suggests an assault not against a political body per se but against the very fabric of the nation itself, vis a vie the population. These terrorist outrages are clearly a cause for some concern, most especially to the head of state, particularly because Intelligence suspects that they might be racially motivated. Women and children, my Lord. "

Edmund looked up.
"What are you suggesting?"
"A small show of support, Lord. Perhaps some technology to assist their law enforcement people? Perhaps a few military advisors? Maybe a public condemnation to rally the people of Durtistan behind the cause of liberty and the rule of law? It certainly couldn't hurt our domestic situation."
"He has a point, sir."
Warspite looked over at Alden Brayd, the head of the Foreign Office. Brayd took this as a sign he should continue.
"Durtistan is still very quiet on the international stage. By stepping out into the limelight, we can achieve two things - increase our international profile and show the population that some nations are rather worse off that them."
"That's very cynical Alden" smiled Warspite.
"That's politics, sir" answered the minister cheerfully.

<Press Conference, Lord Protector's Office>
Warspite stepped up to the microphone and waited for the flash photography to die away.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the press, my time is rather limited today so I must be brief. We are all aware of the situation in Entsteig. The people of Durtistan have a long history of caring for others, especially those under the shadow of terror. Entsteig has called for aid and Durtistan shall not ignore the call. Today, we will open talks with the government and make the following offer.
We will send them troops, equipped for counterterror operations and utilising the latest urban warfare technology.
We will send them tools, which have been proven successful in our own nation, to assist them in their investigations.
But most of all, we will send them the support and goodwill of the People of Durtistan so that they will know they have friends no matter how dark and how terrible their situation becomes."

There was more flash photography as he left the podium.

<Foreign Office, later>

Alden Brayd read the communique over one more time and sat back satisfied. He hit 'Send' and the message disappeared into the ether.

[code:1:878714d5a1]
To: Hamun R. Larozt
From: Alden Brayd, Durtistan Diplomatic Office.

Sir,
in answer to your call for aid we offer the following -

One (1) Battalion of the elite Protectorate Guard, equipped with Coyote light utility vehicles and the latest in Urban Warfare technology (specific: a system called Boomerang which is designed to detect and locate snipers, units are vehicle mounted and designed to network over small convoys).

The Guards will operate under the direction of your own forces, using whicever rules of engagement you specify. They will be airlifted to you on acceptance of our offer.

In addition to this, we are also offering your Law Enforcement service a system called PROFILE. A Durtistanian company called The Critical Faculty designed it for use by law enforcement officers. It looks for patterns, sifts records and makes links. We have had great success in the use of this system to track down serial criminals of all kinds and we are sure that it will be of use to you. Since this is a time of need, Critical Faculty will supply software and hardware with a number of advisors to train and support your Law Enforcement community in its use.

The Lord Protector himself wishes to express his personal support for your government and hopes for a speedy and peaceful resolution to the problem.

Please signal acceptance/non acceptance as soon as is possible.

Sincerely

Alden Brayd, Director, DDO.[/code:1:878714d5a1]

Lord Ursakar Dresk sat at his desk and watched the video feed of this nation asking for help. He adjusted his black trenchcoat and called his Commissar in to his office. "What do you think Hark?" "It would politically adventageous for us to help this nation Ursakar." "Well then send them a message, if they need insanely massive amounts of infantry and heayv artillery we are their men. Dismissed Hark."

Major Zerntos ran over to the dead sniper. A tall man was standing next to the corpse, nodding to the soldier. The officer understood. The man was part of a foreign experiment, but that was all he knew. All he was told was to obey the man.

The sniper had slicked-back brown hair, a medium build, was clean-shaven, a black leather jacket, and dark blue shorts. His eyes were closed, his mouth was slightly open, and he was still holding onto the cell-phone. The major examined the nearby sniper rifle carefully. This rifle was very finely made. It was made in a foreign country. The rifle had to be custom-made, with the grip, sight, barrel, and silencer. Zerntos gave the cell-phone, which was encrypted, to a soldier and instructed him to take it back to the base. He signaled a number of soldiers to check out the van nearby.

As it turned out, the van seemed to be exactly like the ones from previous ones, except for one major thing. The only other things in the trunk were empty soda cans and empty rifle magazines. There were no markings on anything nor was there any message. He was clearly a mercenary.

These snipers are getting smarter[i], thought Zerntos.

-~-~-~-~

[Start voice recording]

To: Alden Brayd
From: Hamun R. Larozt, International Diplomat

Sir,
We thank you greatly for your aid. Your troops will be serving under General Coyaw Ruskh. We accept the system PROFILE, and we will implement it as soon as possible.

Regards,
Hamun R. Larozt, International Diplomat
and the Holy Kingdom of Entsteig

[End voice recording]

-~-~-~-~

--SNBN News--

Today, it is reported that fifty-seven (57) women and children are dead so far. We will try to update as soon as we receive more information.

Next, [i]Steigian Idol is now premiering on the channel...

*sound of TV switching off*

"Damn mercenaries are giving us the slip..." grunted King Hedrik XII. He walked to the bedroom, where his wife, Queen Kirdeh was already asleep. Their young son, Hedrik XIII, was also sleeping in his crib. Stupid press, thought Hedrik before dozing off.

Our Defense Intel. Agency (DIA) has found a terrorist base. It has about 1,000 of the enemy soldiers based there. We have sent up a squadron of (12 planes) F-35B JSFs. They are at a range of 15 miles from the base.
Squadron leader, engage. Tallyho! enemies have 8 Su-35 Super Flankers above base. Bearing 090 Angels for 25 speed 825. We are stealthed they don't see us yet. Engage with AAMRAMs Fox 1. (pending RP results)

Now as missiles are in the air drop JS0W and JDAMs on the base. staying on CAP to see damage reports and await further attack orders.

Our Defense Intel. Agency (DIA) has found a terrorist base. It has about 1,000 of the enemy soldiers based there. We have sent up a squadron of (12 planes) F-35B JSFs. They are at a range of 15 miles from the base.
Squadron leader, engage. Tallyho! enemies have 8 Su-35 Super Flankers above base. Bearing 090 Angels for 25 speed 825. We are stealthed they don't see us yet. Engage with AAMRAMs Fox 1. (pending RP results)

Now as missiles are in the air drop JS0W and JDAMs on the base. staying on CAP to see damage reports and await further attack orders.

Alden Brayd smiled as he listened to the voice message, then picked up the telephone.
"Ask His Lordship if he can see me, would you?"
He waited a moment.
"No? Can he talk? Ok."
He paused again and then sat back.
"My Lord? Good, good...they've accepted. No, I'll do it. They'll be in the air shortly. Yes, My Lord, I took the liberty of alerting them earlier. Thank you. No, My Lord, just doing my job."

<PAF Ardenholme airbase>

50 Squadron, Transport Command, were sixteen enormous C-5 transport aircraft. Under normal circumstances, you'd see maybe one or two in use at any one time. On this particular afternoon, six hundred and fifty troops, sixty Coyote LUVs (the homegrown Durtistan Humvee replacement), twelve five ton trucks and a small collection of computer geeks were assembled and waiting for the first aircraft to roll up.

Major Graydon Creed of the 1st Battalion Protectorate Guards looked over his assembled troops, noted that the urban combat camoflauge uniforms had been issued and allowed himself a small moment of pride. He turned to the Loadmaster of the first C-5.
"Ready to start embarkation when you are" he said. The loadmaster saluted and then began waving the troops on. Three C-5s were carrying men and light equipment. The vehicles were already being loaded into the others. Creed watched his own personal command vehicle, an M4 C2V, rumble up a ramp and disappear into a C-5's cavernous interior. His 2ic, Captain Roys, ran up with a communique.

"Here we are, sir. We're going to be working under a General Ruskh."
"With, Archer. The Guards work with. Is everything installed and running?"
Roys looked mortally offended.
"Sir! I can't believe you would even ask. All the vehicles are Boomerang equipped, all are CLAWS enabled. We've got the kit in the trucks, we've got sixty coyotes, your M4, six M577A3s and twelve Mist Lynx IFVs. Other than that, we're running rather light."
The Major nodded. He was used to working with the other two battalions as part of the 1st Mechanised Infantry Division, which meant a lot more armor and friendly tanks.
"Has anyone mentioned air support, Archer?"
"No sir," said Roys "I assume the General will have something in mind."
"I hope so, Archer. This is another damned political thing isn't it? They should have sent the lead elements of the 1st Urban, but they wanted a prestige unit so the Lord Protector sends us."
He paused, looked around at the men now trooping into aircraft.
"Well, Archer, let's get moving. Can't keep the General waiting. Let the Company commanders know that I want Alpha, Bravo and Charlie down first. Alpha gets to set the perimeter, Bravo sorts out the ablutions and Charlie can find me a coffee."
Roys grinned, nodded, and began to issue orders.

<Airborne>
They left Durtistan airspace with an escort of two F-15SJs from 61 Squadron, the sixteen C-5s flying in a bomber-like formation. The pilots, normally quiet and reserved, were keeping up a steady chatter with the fighter pilots. A few miles outside Durtistan airspace, the fighters peeled off and went home to the cheers and jeers of the C-5 crews.

In the last of aircraft, three men were having an impromtu meeting.
The first, Tolly Yansen, had been a project leader on PROFILE since its inception. He was now the teamlead for this mission. A career geek, he looked at the whole thing as a foreign installation. The aircraft was a novelty and he was mildly annoyed that the coffee was military standard.
"If you're gonna contract to defence," he said loudly "you try to get with the Navy. They have this thing about coffee."
His two companions, Jayne Rettifer and Bob Smitt, sighed. Tolly wanted to be an Alpha Geek and lived the lifestyle.
"This going to work?" Smitt asked. Tolly nodded.
"Yeah. No sweat. We can plug this kit in anywhere and have it sift, sort and spit out all kinds of stuff."
Jayne looked around.
"Did they try anything?"
Tolly grinned.
"They did. Some intelligence types tried to sneak some funny hardware into a couple of the routers but we switched them out."
"So it's a clean install."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."

<Later>

The aircraft began to descend. In the lead 'plane Captain Roys was speaking to the ground and Major Creed was talking to the troops.

"Listen chaps," he said "in a few minutes we'll be on the ground and at work. We're in a foreign country, we're working with the native military and we're expected to obey all the local rules. You lads are ambassadors for Durtistan and, more to the point, you represent the Regiment. We have the equipment to do the job, we have the training to do the job and we have the job to do. Let's show the locals what we're made of and let's show them why we're the best. I want a nice, clean roll out and dispersal. Until we're told otherwise we don't fire unless fired upon and we don't take advantage of the ladies. Let's get this done."

They'd be wheels down in minutes. Creed was looking forward to getting started, a tension in his stomach was part nerves and part excitement. Just as always.

<Wheels Down>

Creed took a moment to straighten himself out and then strode down the ramp, looking through the sea of busy Durtistan uniforms for something out of place. He found it - an officer of the Entsteig Army. Creed didn't recognise the rank markings, so he walked over and snapped a salute.

"Major Creed at your service. What can we do for you and where would you like us to do it?"

General Coyaw Ruskh looked at Major Creed.
"You must be the distinguished Durtistanian officer I was told about...welcome to Entsteig," he warmly said.
"Thank you, sir," replied the major.

The general led the major to a briefing room. It was like a classroom, except for the fact that it was solemn and quiet.
The general walked up and said,
"You are all capable commanders in the military. That is why you have been chosen. I, General Coyaw Ruskh, are who you shall be serving under. You will each serve your own section of forces, since many of you are from different countries. However, you must report to me," the general lectured. He held up a manila folder.
"This contains vital information about our mission. We have just received information that there have been reported sightings of snipers in a major city that will not be disclosed except to whom I assign the mission to."

The general looked around. All of the other officers in the room appeared uneasy, save for Major Creed. He stood up and said,
"Sir, I would like to do this mission."
General Ruskh just looked at him. "Very well. I trust that you will not disclose this information to anybody else. Everybody else, you are dismissed. Further missions await!"
The other officers saluted and left happily.

Major Creed thought to himself, Now is the chance to prove myself!

-~-~-~-~

Major Zerntos sat at his desk, playing Solitaire. Suddenly a lieutenant burst in. "Sir, we just happened to decrypt the cell phone that was recovered!"

572-5570 turned out to be a phone booth. Major Zerntos scowled, annoyed. Obviously, this had been prearranged. However, the phone booth was near an abandoned section of town, in front of an empty warehouse. Major Zerntos thought for a minute. This warehouse had to be a perfect place for hiding out. No doubt about that. But there would be snipers inside, waiting to guard the place.

Major Zerntos walked up to a foreign officer. It was Major Creed.
"I am Major Zerntos. It is my pleasure to meet you," he said.
"Thank you. I have been...*whispers* paired up with you for the mission," Major Creed replied.
"Yes. This section of town is abandoned, so it must be a perfect place for the snipers to hide in," mused Zerntos. "But...how shall we break inside?"
Major Creed thought for a little bit. "I think I may know..."

-~-~-~-~

James walked out of his van and crouched in the nearby bushes. He brought up his sights to a young woman strolling down the street and followed her path down a street. Like Silas, he was a mercenary. However, unlike Silas, he had checked the area around him for soldiers or possible assassins. No such men had appeared. But the man with the knife behind him was no ordinary man...

Roger sat in a abandoned house with his sniper rifle poionted out of the window. He looked down at James in the bushes, then the man with the knifes. He put his crosshairs onto the man with the knifes head and pulled the trigger. Half of the mans head was blown off and brains came out of the back of his head. Roger walked out to the bushes droped his weapon and put his hands in the air. "If you want to live come with me" he said to James. He began to walk to a sports car.

Bring
Up
My
Post

<Tactical Briefing, 30 minutes later>

The Protectorate Guard had mustered 4 Coyotes, a Mist Lynx IFV and two squads of soldiers. They were waiting for Major Zerntos and Creed, who were talking.

Creed looked his troops over.
"Normally, Major, " he began "we'd put some observation on the area first. Get some overflights with helicopters, create some regular traffic nearby. That gets the targets used to hearing military engines, makes them part of the background noise. While that's going on we'd get a couple of lads to put in some CTR, pin down any activity and get some good intel on what we're expecting. But since you've provided us with a potential target, let's see what we can do."

He examined a map, then waved over an NCO. The Sergeant, who had been with the regiment long enough to be considered a fixture, ran over and looked at the map too. There was a brief flurry of muttered conversation and then an exchange of nods.

"Right," said Creed, "we'll coast the Coyotes in through here. If they go in on electric power only they're virtually silent and we can stop the main engines up to a mile out from the target. In the meantime, we'll put on a little display over here..." he tapped the map "to draw attention. A busted truck, I think, with plenty of swearing and nervous troops. Can you lay on a recovery vehicle, Major?"

Zerntos nodded. "Certainly."

"Good" Creed thought for a moment. "We'll keep the IFV back for fire support and reinforcements if needed. "

<Warehouse>
There didn't seem to be anyone home.
The warehouse looked deserted. The small convoy had stopped before it reached sight of the target and now two riflemen were taking position on rooftops nearby, trying to get a closer look at the place.

A few dozen metres away, a military truck had apparently broken down and amid much searing and shouting two different groups of soldiers were trying to remove it from the road.

Sergeant Castille was looking at the main doors.
"Explosive entry" he said quietly. Behind him, a trooper nodded and passed the word back. The sharpshooters were already reporting their status, but as yet couldn't see anything.
Castille was handed the Protectorate Guard version of a skeleton key - a LAW - and sighted on the doors. Over the comms, Major Creed's voice could be heard.
"Chaps, remember the ROE. No firing unless fired upon."
"Marvellous," said Castille to himself and checked his kit - flashbangs, G36A3 rifle, pistol, body armour...then he picked up the LAW and sighted again. One of the sharpshooters reported movement on the roof. The second reported movement inside. There was a pause. Then Creed said
"Go".
The LAW left the launcher trailing smoke. Anyone inside hardly had time to register the shot before the explosion took the doors out. Rubble was still moving when the squad of troops ran for the hole. They didn't stop - splitting rapidly into pairs, the squad began to check the ground floor of the warehouse.
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Clear"
"Clear"
Major Creed, listening in, grimaced.
"Do you have much of a homeless problem here?" he asked"Because I think we've just assaulted some hobos"
"Contact!" There was a shot, and suddenly all attention was focussed on that sound. The shot was followed by another, then several more in rapid succession. The driver of Creed's Coyote looked at the Boomerang display.
"That's a pistol, sir. Nine millimetre."
There was a silence and then three shots.
"Clear!"
"5.56. One of ours." Creed nodded.
"Get the IFV around the back and cut off any runners. Second squad in. LOE is the second floor. First squad, secure the ground. Major Zerntos and I are coming to see the fun close up."

Sveten was seriously pissed. An ex-soldier, he had been discharged years ago from the Steigian Army for numerous reasons. He found a job as a bounty hunter, where he claimed over fifteen (15) bounties.

Two of his best friends had been gunned down, along with his sister. Most of the time, he operated as a bounty hunter mostly for money. But this time, it was different. He was operating solely out of revenge.

Armed with a shotgun, sword, knife, and pistol, Sveten set out to exact his revenge. His target: the Steigian countryside, where his underworld sources had told him that the snipers were amassing.

He packed several magazines of extra ammo and medipacs in his backpack and started on his journey.

[OOC: Don't kill this guy off! I control him and his fate...]

The general started to laugh. "They really thought we'd have that as an HQ! Sergant come here now. Your plan worked. They are in. Now blow the place to hell." All of a sudden the warehouse exploaded. Men flew in diferent directions , blood and guts flying everywhere.

(OOC: Ouch! RFF, ya coulda made it clear which side of the fence you were playing earlier but I can work from there...)

IC:

<Warehouse>
The explosion knocked Creed and Zerntos off their feet, blew debris into the air and, for a moment at least, brought everything to a crashing halt. Creed and Zerntos got to their feet and threw themselves into cover, fearing a secondary explosion or perhaps artillery fire. When it became clear a moment later that there were to be no further detonations the stood. Zerntos looked at the mess, then at Creed, and reached for a radio to call in the emergency services.

Creed, by contrast was livid.
"Anyone still standing look for a command wire!" he yelled. He strode out into the dust and smoke, noting that the IFV was nosing its way around the corner and muzzlesweeping the area with a 20mm cannon. The diversion team were already sprinting to the scene. Both rooftop riflemen were reporting no further movement and no sign of anyone nearby, their voices tense and clearly angry.
"Dammit" snarled Creed. He organised the soldiers still outside the wreckage.
"We have twenty men in there, likely dead but we owe it to them to find out, so get hauling. If you turn up bits of the device or anything else useful I want it bagged and tagged for the police. Move!"
With the immediate situation under control, he walked to the IFV and used its radio to contact Roys.

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>
Roys took the news stoically and, as order, dispatched medics and engineers to the site. Then he walked to a lone C-5, set slightly apart from the others. Inside, the aircraft had been converted to a makeshift barracks for a dozen men who were lounging around happily. As he walked up the ramp to their living area, Roys was aware of the eyes of each man upon him.
"Hello gentlemen," he began "it would appear we'll need you after all."
There were no smiles as he relayed the news and moments after he'd finished talking they moved into a huddle and began talking. Roys waited, knowing there would be a list of requirements for him to take care of.

<Warehouse>
Thirty minutes after the explosion, nine of the troopers had been recovered. Seven bodies, two survivors who, by some miracle, would eventually recover and possibly even lead normal lives. No sign of anyone else. Yet. Troops and First Responders were still hard at work.

Creed sighed.
"We were set up" said Zerntos "we were fed intelligence that they knew we'd follow up and we were stupid enough to fall for it."
"I'd have done the same thing: said Creed quietly. "It's clear they're far more prepared than we are. Very well. We'll medevac the survivors and continue with the plan - high visibility patrols, lots of coverage and lots of opportunities to get used to the area. There's going to be plenty more opportunities to get shot at too."
"I expect the warehouse will be clean" said Zerntos "Nothing worth having in there."
Creed looked at him sideways.
"Wouldn't know" he said "not a policeman. But nothing's ever sterile, so let's see what your law enforcement people make of it all, shall we?"

Sveten crawled through the heavy undergrowth, occasionally getting cut. Finally, he reached a base. Sveten stroked his beard and mustache and thought for a moment. It was not a Steigian military base, but the enemy sniper base. He checked his shotgun, pistols, sword, and knife, and crawled on. There were a few camouflaged guards there with heavy machine guns, but they were no match for Sveten's two pistols and his expert marksmanship. Sveten brushed his curly black bangs and readied his pistol.

Four shots were fired. Four guards fell to the ground.

-~-~-~-~

Zerntos stormed into the intelligence office, his face and uniform caked with blood and grime.
"Who provided us with the intel about the warehouse?" he hissed to the head of the intelligence. "We lost men needlessly all because of some faulty intelligence! Now! WHO GAVE US THIS INFORMATION?"

The head of intelligence stammered, "It...seemed...uhm..to be some...guy named..." --he typed something into his computer-- "Sveten Bornsi...we have little information about him, other than the fact that he was hired as an agent three years ago. He seems to have disappeared ever since."

Zerntos walked out without another word and met up with Major Creed, who was waiting outside. Major Zerntos told him about who had provided them with the false information. Major Creed grimaced and said,
"This man must have been inserted by the snipers to provide us with false information. This has to have been planned."
Major Zerntos rubbed his mustache.
"Strange. Sveten Bornsi had served under me in the military a number of years ago. He hated the intelligence offices, though. Bornsi was courageous, an expert marksman, and a rather clever strategian. Major asshole, though," he mused.
"Excuse me?" grunted Major Creed. "Did you just call me an asshole?"
Major Zerntos rolled his eyes. "No, I did not call you an asshole...I was talking about Bornsi."
Creed smiled sheepishly and said, "Heh, sorry. Didn't hear you correctly."
Zerntos continued, "If I remember correctly, he became a bounty hunter after being discharged. This can't be right. There must be an imposter posing as him in the intelligence office..."

Terrorist HQ

The General paced the room. "Do you have the explosives placed in the school?" "Yes sir..." The General began pacing again... Twenty years ago he would of killed himself if he had done this. But loosing your family would change anyone. "This school is how big?" "...The biggest in the country sir..." "Blow it to hell... We can't get um with snipers anymore... It's more economical this way..."

The school
Susan was having a horribal day. Her mother had just been killed by a sniper, and today she found out her boyfreind was cheating on her. She went to the bathroom crying and sat down on the toilet. She didn't even notice the explosive charge under the seat. "I WISH I WAS DEAD!" she sobbed. Then the bathroom exploaded sending her out of the stall and head first into the mirror breaking her neck.

<*crackling radio transmission*>
This is the ruler of the nation of Stuntpro, we heard a massive explosion all the way here, and wondered what went wrong in your country, intelligence also states that you have a terrorist problem in your country.
we would be proud to help, i have 100 of my V-1 rockets armed and ready for lauch if you find another terrorist base in your country, give me the coordinates and i will wipe them off the face of your country!
http://www.airmuseumsuk.org/IWMDuxford/outside/800/images/026%20Fiesler%20Fi%20103%20V1.jpg I also have 5 He-111's with V-1's attached to the bottom ready to aid your country.

<*crackling radio transmission*>
This is the ruler of the nation of Stuntpro, we heard a massive explosion all the way here, and wondered what went wrong in your country, intelligence also states that you have a terrorist problem in your country.
we would be proud to help, i have 100 of my V-1 rockets armed and ready for lauch if you find another terrorist base in your country, give me the coordinates and i will wipe them off the face of your country!
http://www.airmuseumsuk.org/IWMDuxford/outside/800/images/026%20Fiesler%20Fi%20103%20V1.jpg I also have 5 He-111's with V-1's attached to the bottom ready to aid your country.
OOC:Errrrm...Sorry dude but these terrorist aren't some amatures who are pissed and have some homemade explosives. These are ex-millitary soilders. There leader is one of the greatest generals in the last century. It's not as simple as bombing places you think have terrorist. If they had of just bombed that warehouse back there they would of killed a bunch of hobos. They went in there with troops... Good thing for the terrorists... There would of been alot of protesting if they killed a bunch of hobos.

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>

Roys had been given a list, taken it to a member of the Entsteig Police, had it taken away and the items on it bought, and then the shopping returned to him. He, in turn, had taken several dozen carrier bags to the C-5 and was now sitting outside drinking coffee while the denizens of the aircraft changed clothes. He could hear them commenting as they went about their preparations.
"That has to be the most bone shirt ever"
"Clearly you've not actually looked at yours yet"
"Oi! Which of you herberts has made off with my mug?"
"These shoes are minging. Anyone else got size twelves?"
"Have they had your feet in them? They have! Awwww that's just not right."
Roys grinned. For trained soldiers, this mob were remarkably childish.

<PROFILE installation>
Smitt was sitting in a coffee room with a phone in one hand, a lit cigarette in another and a second lit cigarette in the ashtray in front of him.
"No," he said patiently "it shouldn't do that."
He paused.
"Absolutely not. There is no way a replication should occurr and if it IS replicating...yes...yes...no...look, stop the job, run it again and this time watch what happens when it...are you actually listening to me?"
There was another pause.
"Stop. The. Job. Clear. The. Queue. Start. It. Again. Set. Priority. To. One. Watch. It. Cycle."
He took a puff of the cigarette, then set it in the ashtray.
"Well of course it will, you twonk," he sighed "Look, we spent the last couple of hours hooking the blasted thing up to every major law enforcement network this country has, and some of ours through proxies that were designed to prevent us doing this in the first place, and then wiring the Tempest kit back up and then tweaking everything so it runs in the first place and all YOU had to do..."
He went to take a puff of his cigarette, found that he didn't have on in his hand and lit a new one.
"All you had to do was run the first local infill job. Tolly, you SWORE to me that you could handle this and that was an hour ago and you've been...YES you have, a whole forty-five minutes now giving me earache."
He paused, listening.
"Is it? Well at last. No, that's fine. Shouldn't take more than four hours."
Smitt stubbed out his cigarette, noticed the others and put them out too, and wandered out to see PROFILE in action.

The machine itself was reaching out, inserting software tentacles into every major database it could find and sifting information. In a few hours it would have populated its own databases with basic information on every aspect of the country and also have a detailed map of what PROFILE referred to as a 'datasphere' - the computer activity of the country. The Critical Faculty were very proud of the fact that PROFILE blurred the line between Expert System and Artificial Intelligence.

<Intelligence Office>
Major Creed watched with some satisfaction as the locals went about their business. An imposter in the Intelligence Service was definitely outside his area of responsibility.
The explosion at the school, which set off every Boomerang set near it, was another matter.
Besides, he knew that Entsteig routinely used methods of extracting information from people that Major Creed found...crude.
He needed something faster, more effective.
He pulled his service pistol and checked the ammunition load, then holstered it.
Zerntos walked past.
"Got him!" he smiled "The interrogation room is this way. We'll start with a few quiet questions and build up slowly:
Creed nodded and followed the Major.

<Interrrogation Room>
The fake Bornsi was sitting in a chair, looking quite comfortable. A pair of interrogators were sitting opposite him with clipboards and pens, taking down information.
"Now, Mr. Bornsi, as you know we are empowered to make you extremely uncomfortable if you can't answer our questions. We're sure you want to co-operate, so shall we start by you giving us your name."
"Sveten Bornsi" said the man with a smile.
"We know that's not true. Your name, please."
"Sveten Bornsi."
"I see. And where are you from?"

Zerntos watched the proceedings through the one way glass. Beside him, Creed was wondering how best to proceed.
"Would you mind if I did something unexpected and violent?" he asked Zerntos cordially.
"Rather depends on what you're going to do" answered Zerntos.
As an answer, Creed pulled his pistol and put three rounds through the glass. He kicked the pane out and vaulted into the room, shoved the interrogators out of the way, kicked aside the table and ended his flurry of activity with the fake Bornsi up against the wall with a pistol under his chin.
"Hello" said Creed "I'm very annoyed and you're going to tell me what I want to know, or I'm going to kill you."
'Bornsi' smiled.
"Can't tell you anything if I'm dead" he mumbled smugly. Creed nodded.
"True," he said, and shot the man in the foot "but you'd be surprised what you can live through. Now...shall we start with your name, or would you like to name a location for the next bullet?"

Sveten was in serious trouble. He had slaughtered at least seventeen (17) sniper forces, but they began to retaliate with grenades. He had escaped intact, but his shotgun, pistol, and knife were rendered useless by the damage. All he had was his sword. Some snipers were starting to pursue. Sveten hid behind a rock, unsheathed his sword, and smiled. This would make for an interesting battle.

-~-~-~-~

The fake 'Bornsi' simply smiled in his obnoxious, smug smirk again. Zerntos grunted to Creed "Don't shoot him again...yet,", walked into the room casually, and kneed the imposter squarely in the groin. The man screamed out in pain and clenched his teeth.
"What the hell?" asked Major Creed.
"My personal type of interrogation," said Major Zerntos. He flicked the imposter's nose and asked, "You think you can live through some more? Try me."
Major Creed raised an eyebrow and focused his pistol to the imposter's kneecap. "Don't make me shoot you."
Zerntos straightened his cap and asked again, "Now, what is your real name?", while hitting his pressure spot.
"S...veten...Born...si...!" he grunted.
Creed pistol-whipped the imposter's kneecap several times, stronger each successive time.
"Where are you from?" asked Zerntos, intensifying the pressure on the man.
"From...ugh...your mother...s...ass..." the fake 'Bornsi' sneered.
Zerntos punched the man twice--a quick jab in the stomach and a strong left hook on the man's sinuses.
Blood was pouring out of his broken nose.
Creed thought to himself, Yeah, crude...
Major Zerntos straightened himself up and told the astonished interrogators on the side to find some medics and clean the man up a little bit.
"And a janitor!" he yelled after them as they left.
Creed and Zerntos walked out casually, as if nothing had happened. They left the man in the room, dazed and in pain, unable to move.

"That...was strange," said Major Creed, holstering his pistol.
"Heh. I used to do that a lot, but I was often reprimanded. Ah well. Sucks for the imposter. Hope we can get information out of that bastard..." replied Major Zerntos.

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>

Roys was busy. The more he did the more he ended up having to do. A couple of Company commanders were waiting for him to

complete and intelligence briefing. Elsewhere, twelve special forces soldiers had wandered off into the civilian population

with the intention of getting hold of some intelligence and putting some Close Target Recon on a couple of sites. He also

had a patrol missing, fourteen dead soldiers to ship home and a resupply C-130 flying in from Durtistan.

He sighed. He needed a better staff.

<Patrol Bravo 1>
Sergeant Kail's unit was split between three Coyotes. They had orders to be as obvious as possible, and to do all the things

that they'd been trained to do in friendly territory. Consequently, the three vehicle convoy was parked and the troopers

were enjoying some refreshing beverages and chatting with the local population. Kail grinned at this; despite the fact that

the men were armed and in uniform the locals were taking to them nicely. The Army taught politeness and respect, and a

smattering of the local language, as part of the PSYCOPS package.

<Patrol Bravo 3>
They'd paused, at the orders of Lt. Maine, to help a stranded motorist and now the squad's technical specialist was trying to

sort out the electrics of a civilian car.
Corporal Heller watched the surrounding area a little nervously. The open road looked like a good place for a sniper to

cruise for targets

<Patrol Bravo 7>
Lt. Gorder sighed. Three vehicles in his patrol were stuck in a traffic snarl-up and now it looked as though two motorists

at the head of the problem were arguing. For a moment he considered walking up there with a couple of riflemen and sorting

things out by force of arms but experience told him that he could do more good letting the local police handle the matter.

Instead, he leaned out of the Coyote and started a conversation with the man in the car next to him.

<Patrol Bravo 5>
Sergeant Bryte was doing his best to stay hidden. His patrol had spotted something unusual, tried to get closer and then

left their vehicles to close with the target on foot.

He and his squad were working their way towards an industrial building slowly and cautiously, creeping forward by twos while

the man they were following had disappeared towards the roof. The building was brick, three stories high with a flat roof.

A good sniper spot. Bryte looked around him; there were plenty of ways to get out of the area once the shot had been taken.

He split half the squad off to go form a perimeter and tried the radio again. Nothing. Frustrated at being out of contact,

Bryte decided to go forward and try to get eyes on the target. With the rules of engagement in effect he couldn't simply open fire and, at the back of his mind, he was aware that even just getting a good look at a suspect might be useful. He turned to the soldier behind him.
"Keep moving forward. We'll take it nice and slow. Before we go in we'll check the perimeter of the building for command wires. Go talk to Corporal Hynns and tell him to follow up the minute we reach the building. He takes the basement first, then the second floor. We sweep floor by floor and we do it slowly and carefully. Tell Hynns if he finds a telephone he's to call Battalion and get us some support."
"Yes, Sargeant" said the trooper and peeled off to find the corporal. Bryte began to move forward once more.

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>

The C-130 had arrived.

It brought with it two squads of replacement troops and a few tons of supplies. And something new.

"It's an observation system" said the loadmaster "we brought technicians too".
"Good" said Captain Roys and delegated the whole thing to Hotel Company to integrate and deploy. Captain Greyhem, the company commander, loved new toys.

Greyhem grinned.
"Thanks, chap!" he said brightly. Roys stared at him balefully for a moment.
"Just work out what it is and how to use it" he said "I'll be in the Command Centre. If you can find Lieutenant Jayne send him to me."
Jayne was the Liason officer, supposed to be working with Entsteig military forces to get some more detailed information out of the intelligence service.

<Patrol Bravo 5>
Bryte and his team completed a circuit of the building. If it was rigged to blow up the trigger mechanism was radio, not command wire. Bryte and a trooper called Kayse examined the door carefully.
"See anything?" Kayse was the squad's demolitions specialist.
"No, sarge, but that doesn't mean much. There could be a motion detector behind the door, a pressure pad...anything."
"Let's take the chance. In we go!"
He eased the door open, Kayse watching it carefully, searching for any sign of a booby trap.

Inside, the building was dark and cool. And apparently empty. Bryte waved Corporal Hynns up and took his team inside.

Sveten ran through the forest. Several enemies were attacking him. He turned around and sliced one in half with his sword. The other men attacked him in an attempt to avenge their fellow soldier's death. Finally, they reached a river. He ran and hid behind a rock. Suddenly, a grenade was thrown. He quickly threw it back before it exploded. The explosion took out all of the enemy soldiers. However, gunfire still rattled around Sveten: reinforcements were attacking. He resumed running...A military base! he thought, as he neared some barbed wire.

-~-~-~-~

"Who the hell is that?" asked James, pointing to a figure running towards him.
"Looks like a bounty hunter..." grunted Henry. "I'll contact Major Zerntos."

-~-~-~-~

Major Zerntos welcomed the real Sveten Bornsi in the military base. The guards of the military base and taken care of the invaders. It seemed that battle was eminent. He called for extra fortification...

The invaders were to be driven out. They would not fail...

OOC: Sorry about the absence, I had a revolution on the home front. The super soldier had to fall back to help fight it, and was killed by a berserk in the city of Dauth. Speaking of, a squad of Dauthi Shock Troops will replace the super soldier. They will all have Frenisis, Machetes, Frag Grenades, Full Body Armor, and CBR Protection. They tend not to back down, and their armor is thick enough to neutralize the penetrating power of most bullets. However, the impact force could snap a joint or something of the sort.

OOC: I'm going to try to tie up a few loose threads and see if I can't get back to the main plot. I had no idea there was an invasion on!

<Patrol Bravo 5>

Corporal Hynns and his team swept the basement quickly and efficiently, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Sergeant Bryte and his team did the same to the ground floor. The two teams moved on to their next objectives.

Bryte, Kayse and troopers Fohls, Serl and Awte arrived on the third floor to find a large open plan area. At the far end of the floor were doors. One of them was clearly labelled as a fire exit. The other was obviously roof access.

"We go up" said Bryte. The team spread out; open though the area might be it needed to be secured before anything else happened.

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>
Major Creed and Captain Roys were in conference.
"No one is saying anything to us, sir," began Lt. Jayne "but there's definitely something up."
"Agreed," said Greyhem "the USPs are recording an awful lot of quiet military movement and none of it is ours. We're being kept in the dark and I have a nasty feeling it's because the locals know more about what they're up against than they're letting on."
Major Creed sighed.
"I know" he said. "I have no idea what's happening either. Frustrating as all hell. Look, lads, here's the plan. I want the whole Battalion on alert. From this point onwards we treat this place as hostile territory."

He was interrupted by a corporal with signal traffic. Captain Roys intercepted it neatly and read it over. He smiled.

"We've got three items of news" he announced.
"The first is that one of our patrols appears to be making an assault on a potential sniper position and have telephoned in for support."
"Send them some armor" said Creed "and have the nearest two patrols converge on their location."
"The second" said Roys "is that there appears to be overt action going on and the party may well include us after all. We have reports of unfamiliar troops on the ground and shots fired at a local military base."
"OK" said Creed, standing up in preparation to take charge of his troops. Roys put a hand up to stop him.
"The third is news from home, sir. It appears that some paperwork has finally caught up with us. Congratulations, Lt. Colonel Creed."
Creed allowed himself a brief grin.
"Does this mean it's now Major Roys?" he asked.
"Absolutely, sir" answered Roys.
"In that case, Major, break out the firepower and make sure the troops are kitted for combat operations. Recall anything still running around and looking for terrorists. We're operating a little light on armor but we're still and infantry battalion and we're still not to be sneezed at. Gentlemen, you know what to do. Get moving."

<Patrol Bravo 5>
Serl had been first onto the roof and was now lying flat on his back in a pool of his own blood. The shot had come out of nowhere, or so it seemed, and the rest of the team had taken what cover it could find. In answer to the casualty, Bryte had popped off three rounds and hoped that would serve to alert the second team.

He looked over the roof and was immediately gratified to see a line of Coyotes approaching the area. Abruptly, his helmet com system clicked into life.

"Bravo 5, Bravo 7, stand by."
Something small buzzed past the rooftop. Something with a camera.
"Bravo 7, Bravo 5. Man down. Tango on roof."
"Copy that 5. Wait one."
Bryte waited.
"Bravo 5, Bravo 7. Tango is attempting to exit via fire escape. We have. Repeat, we have."
There was a single gunshot.
"Tango neutralised" said the radio.
"Roger that" said Bryte. He waved Fohls, the medic, towards Serl's body and stood up. He'd let the local police handle the finding out where the sniper had come from.

OOC:Entsteig are you going to reply as James? I just saved his ass from that guy with the knifes.

OOC:Entsteig are you going to reply as James? I just saved his ass from that guy with the knifes.

OOC: Well, James is part of the snipers and is under your control, actually.

-~-~-~-~

Sveten cocked his shotgun and led his troops out into the battlefield. He had been re-inducted into the military and had been newly promoted to a Captain. Captain Bornsi reported to Major Zerntos, "Sir, enemy troops are closing in. Mobile artillery and rocket launchers are ready to fire."

Major Zerntos grunted, "Fire when they reach three miles within us."
"Yes, sir."

-~-~-~-~

The terrorist troops had just reached the three-mile mark. Steigian artillery and rocket launchers pounded at the infantry and tanks, effectively disorganizing the terrorists, leaving a large space for Captain Bornsi's tanks and infantry to occupy and fire from. However, the Entsteig troops had not counted on enemy air support.

The enemy bombers were killing many infantry and destroying tanks, while the enemy fighters were starting to attack the Stegian fighters. Steigian flak cannons and missile launchers rolled out and destroyed a number of fighters and bombers. The Entsteig military seemed indestructible. But the RFF rebels had many more tricks up their sleeves...

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>

Lt. Colonel Creed returned to his command area with barely concealed confusion.

"This was supposed to be a CT op" he grumbled "now it's a full scale shooting war. What are we up to?"

Major Roys ran through the details.
"We're setting up around the airport perimeter. We've deployed the AFVs to strategic areas to provide fire support, we've got snipers on high points overlooking the approaches. We've got LAW and SAW teams in sandbagged hardpoints and we're dispersing the troops to some key areas of the airfield."

"And the aircraft?"

"Getting ready to leave, sir. They can be wheels up in ten minutes."

"All of them?"

"Oh yes. We've got three lads in air traffic control making sure they get priority to leave."

"Any news from home?"

"None yet, sir. I informed Regiment that we might need some help. They're thinking it over."

The rest of the Guard might help, thought Creed unhappily now desperately missing the rest of his battalion's equipment let alone the full might of the Regiment (which, if you wanted to look at it in a certain light, was closer to being a light Brigade composed of mechanised infantry and armor). Then he shrugged as training and professionalism reasserted itself.

"Right then, Major, let's tour the estate and see if we've missed anything".

<Protectorate Special Forces>

They'd dispersed in civvies, vanished into the population and started to work on belnding in. Now they were taking stock of events in a deserted bar.

"So. Do we go home or do we go to work?" asked the leader.
"We ought to RV with the Guard and see what they want us to do" answered the troop signaller. There were general nods and grunts of assent.
"Right then" said the leader "but on the way back, we look for targets of opportunity."
There were grins all around.

<Durtistan, Lord Protector's Office>

"A shooting war" said Edmund Warspite quietly, "Bloody marvellous. Now I have to go in front of the House and ask permission to send support."

"Actually Sir," said Air Chief Marshall Stone "there's a little something we can do right now."

Warspite looked up at Stone and raised an eyebrow.
"Don't just stand there" he said "tell me!"

"Well," said Stone "the provisions of the National Security Act allow for a limited mobilisation to secure the safe return of nationals overseas and to secure the safety of national property overseas."

Warspite smiled.
"I see. The troops and the aircraft. What can you send them?"

The Air Chief Marshall thought for a moment.
"I'll talk to Tony Fochs," he said "and get you half of 38 Squadron, a few SR-71 overflights and some of 64 Squadron to run command and control. I think 72 Squadron has the legs to get over, as long as we tank them. They've taken the airport, right?"

Admiral Kell lifted a finger. Warspite nodded.
"We can have the Fortitude battlegroup in the area, if you need it. Roger McCarr has it at the moment. It'll take a week, perhaps two at the most."
Warspite nodded.

General Callan had also been thinking.
"No point sending the rest of the Guard" he said "We need something a little more mobile and responsive. I'd like to put the combat elements of the 5th Airmobile Infantry Brigade in the air."
Warspite frowned.
"Which Regiment are you talking about?"
"The Grey Guards" said Callan. Warspite nodded. The Grey and the Protectorate Guards had a history of working well together.
"Pull our transport aircraft out and get everything moving" said Warspite "and do it now. The longer we leave them to wait the worse things will get. General Callan, your troops are to do what they need to in order to preserve life and limb; they are to help the civilian population as best they can and they are to actively defend themselves. I will speak to the diplomatic staff, warn Entsteig that we're sending additional assets to the area. Get on it folks."

The various military leaders snapped to attention and left.

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>

"Are those friendly?" asked Roys as aircraft streaked overhead.
"As long as they're not bombing us,leave them alone" said Creed "we've got other things to worry about."

<Protectorate Guard Staging Area>

Lt. Colonel Creed watched the last of the transport aircraft lift off the runway and thunder into the sky. He sighed, one less thing to worry about, and went back to supervising the squirrelling away of supplies. Ammunition would be a problem if they got into a protracted engagement, as would the Battalion's lack of heavy weapons.

Captain Sunder and Major Roys had been seeing to the defenses. There were few places in an airport to hold off an attack, particularly one with armored support. Sunder was worried.

'We've got a couple of LAWS to a squad and a few 40mm grenade launchers but not nearly enough.' he groused. Roys smiled.
'It's an opportunity to improvise, James' he said gleefully and left the Alpha company commander to wonder what he might improvise with.

<Fortitide Carrier Battlegroup>

The PNV Fortitude, surrounded by support ships, turned to recover its aircraft. Only the CAP were up - two Tomcats - and there was little preparation to make. On the bridge, Captain Mayne looked again at the Flash traffic orders. A little behind him, Rear Admiral McCarr sighed.
'I had a feeling this might turn sour' he said. Mayne turned.
'Me too' he said 'we should have moved days ago. Still, we're almost underway now. The Insight and Ingenious are off already, about an hour ahead of us."
The two Astute class submarines, virtually silent and exceptional hunters, were clearing the path ahead of the carrier battlegroup.
"Very good," said McCarr "Best speed when you're ready." He left the Bridge and made his way to his stateroom.
Mayne nodded as the Admiral left, and took stock of the Group - six destroyers, four frigates, two attack subs, two cruisers and a small secondary fleet of support ships were all forming up around the huge carrier. He grinned. It was hard not to be impressed.

<New Maspit Air Force Base - Briefing Room>

It was crowded. Three AC-130U crews from 38 Squadron sat with the crews of 120 Squadron, who flew tankers. 72 Squadron's Strike Eagle pilots were present, as were the crews of 42, 53 and 63 Squadrons - some 48 heavy lift aircraft - who would be running troops and supplies. Three of 64 Squadron's Astor pilots were sitting near the back of the room too, chatting animatedly about the radar platform's first use in anger.

Wing Commander Hopkirk looked around the room and then at the display behind him.
"Right chaps!" he said, calling the briefing to order.
He covered the ground quickly; where the crews would be going, what they could expect to find at the other end, the weather conditions on the way to the target and the forecast for the next 24 hours, possible threats and mission parameters. The pilots nodded, made notes, asked pertinent questions. Hopkirk set the tanker waypoints, dismissed the crews and watched as they filed out.
Squadron Leader Urquart of 72 Squadron stayed behind.
Hopkirk waited; Urquart was new. New enough that he would have concerns about operational deployment and he would want to ask the questions that all new Squadron Leaders would ask. The difficult questions.
"What if my lads get shot down?" he asked. Hopkirk nodded.
"According to the information I have there's a Special Forces team already on the ground. In the event of a plane going down they'll make their way to the crew as quickly possible. You'll have two infantry battalions on the ground and they'll have helicopter support. SAR won't be an issue. Besides, the chances are you'll get there, fly one or two sorties and be pulled out."
Urquart seemed satisfied. Hopkirk knew he wanted to ask more, but wouldn't. He looked at his watch. The first flight of tankers would be leaving shortly. Tankers, supplies, troops, vehicles...he had a lot still to arrange.

<New Maspit Air Force Base - Loading Area>

Lt. Colonel Cameron Hunter and his 2ic Major Dane were surprised. They were surprised because an additional three battalions had turned up - all elements of the 2nd Airborne Division - attack and support helicopters and a forward air defense battalion.
"Major Dane, I have the feeling that we might be staying a little longer than we planned" said Hunter thoughtfully. Dane smirked.

The four Battalion commanders sat down around a portable card table and drank coffee. Hunter knew them, of course, from Brigade and Divisional exercises. Lt.Colonels Parker and Coburn from the Air Corps and Lt. Colonel Cornyn of the Artillery. Coburn sat back a little.
"You're not getting the whole battalion" he said "Just twelve Cobras and crews. So you look after them."
Hunter nodded. "How many Blackhawks do I get to play with?"
"Twelve" answered Parker "And I want them back unscratched. Likewise Captain Hannan. Best pilot I've got so don't you bloody get him killed."
Hunter turned to Cornyn.
"Oh, we're all coming" said Cornyn "no sense in sending just a little bit of triple A, is there?"
"So what on earth are you ALL doing here?"
Parker grinned.
"We're to hold position here in case we're needed. The rest of the Division is moving up too, from what I hear. And the rest of the Protectorate Guard is moving to Naval bases all over. Apparently there are a bunch of Afloat Prepositioning squadrons standing ready to load them up, along with the Marine Assault Force."
"MAF? Are they planning a landing?"
Cornyn shrugged.
"All we really know is that they're using this as a mobilisation exercise. We might even get to go somewhere. If you want an opinion, we're 'just in case something develops'."
Outside, they could hear another flight of tankers taking off.
"It's certainly all go" observered Coburn.
"Certainly is" said Hunter.