NationStates Jolt Archive

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Berliston West Arcology
0630 NEST

The sun glinted off the windows, heliostats, and solar panels of the urban jungle that was Berliston. The city was pandering to life, cars beginning to speed down the highways to beat the morning rush. Helicopters and VTOLs moved their way through the dawn sky, and a different kind of creature stirred.

He was average height, brown hair, wearing a windbreaker, t-shirt and shorts as he carried a gym bag. He accessed the empty, but soon to be full, public lift as he rose to the layer of the arcology just before the shining heliostats and solar panels began. He walked to a maintinance area, sat down, and stratched. He unzipped the gym bag, and began pulling out parts. He inserted the barrel into the frame, attached the Zeiss 12x scope to the picanny rail, and put in a magazine of AP rounds. He laid the Anti material rifle across his lap, and got out a large digital spotting unit. He waited in that maintinance sector for 3 hours, waiting and watching.

"I'm so glad you could be here, Mr. Kesaru, so very glad."

Martin Cerrath, CEO of TransOceania Air and Sea Lines, stood outside the large corporate Headquarters of his company. A group of employees milled around as Kesaru, the former vice president and secretary of defense, got out of his car.

"Anything for you, Martin. I'm just glad to see you guys can get back on track."

"You have no idea how much these tariff lightenings will help our kinds of companies. We'll be able to afford raises and create thousand of new jobs..."

The man could watch his lips moving through the digitally enhanced scope, but not his words. It didn't matter. The spotting scope was discarded, and he was now looking down the sight of his Ringo Systems M414 AMR, lying prone on the balcony. The men moved to shake hands. He adjusted the angle of the rifle, the slightest bit. It wasn't anything near the range limits the rifle was designed for, and his training made sure he would hit.

Kesaru's head practically vaporized, bits of skull actually scarring those around him. Most of his neck was gone as well, and Cerrath vomited as he watched blood gurgle from his ruined arteries.

The sniper knew he had room for one more shot before he was pinpointed, so he shifted the crosshair to the man who had been shaking Kesaru's hand the second before. A second round hit him in the chest. Not his best shot, but he wouldn't be coming back up. He checked to make sure the brass was in it's catcher, removed the two casings from it, and pocketed them. He dissassembled the rifle as quick as he could, and drew a Zabasta9, a popular and deadly carbine with special forces. He made his way towards the parking lot, and to the car he had parked there earlier. The engine was on, silent because of hydrogen power, and made his way northwest, towards the docks.

NENN Newsflash:
Two people were shot outside of TransOceanic HQ in Berliston around 9:45, one of them rumored to be former vice president Alexi Kesaru... More news as it comes to us...

...has been confirmed that Martin Cerrath, CEO...

...High caliber sniper rifle...

NENN Newsflash:
Riots have begun in the industrial section, bearing the Old Imperial flags and nationalist slogans. Analysts predict the lowering of tarriffs in the area has caused an upstart of nationalist fervor...

...Two police officers killed by...

...ESWAT teams deployed...

...Lockdown of South Berliston...

OOC:This was planned for later, but since all my other RPs are dying off, I'll do it now. If you aren't in the APTO, you probably don't know who these people are yet.

OOC-

Ooo yay....i love assination stories...

OOC:It starts out as one, I dunno how many others there will be. Depends on how much attention the RP gets.

tag

“Come on where is it!” Joe shouted at the top of his lungs, “there it is, 10:00 to Berliston. Ahhh”
RRRRRRRRRRING RING
“Hello,” Joe says as he picks up the phone
“Joe it’s me Joseph, I got that info you wanted, he is known as Reiber. Look for him in the industrial section of Berliston, specifically 3rd street,” the voice says
“Thanks for the info Joseph, and notify Allen to get me ID’s as airport workers in Berliston and Cretio.” Replies Joe
“Right away”
“Thanks again”
“By”

3 days later:
After picking up his passes gear and luggage, Joe heads for one of the minor cities in Illior, Cretio, which does have pressurized baggage compartments into NE specifically Berliston.

After slipping through security with his FLG ISF Sniper rifle, BLM auto pistol, and some other weapons, 1 million credits to bribe guards and ground crews in NE, He boards a plane’s baggage compartment and hides there through the 4 hour flight with some water and crackers.

Once the plane landed in Berliston, Joe got off, bribed several guards and ground crewmen; he was on his way, still with 600,000 credits, towards the industrial section. As he is walking there with his bags, he sees many exoskeletons and gun ships patrolling the area.
“Damn,” he thinks to himself, “I sure am glad I brought those tungsten carbide rounds with me,”
He walks up to what looks like an old apartment, with 2 men standing in front.

The two men look over Joe, and then at a Laptop. One shakes his head, and the other nods. They both wear heavy jackets, concealing pistols underneath. The one without the laptop approaches Joe, cracking a knuckle, but staying out of arm's reach.

"You. Who are you, when's your appointment?"

On the roof, another sits with a HK G3AZ Assault Rifle, waiting.

"Name's Joe, Joe Allendorian," says joe, "i've got no appointment but i'd rather like to meet this Reiber,"

The man with the G3AZ, confident the guards will handle the man, runs back to inform those inside. Back on ground level, the guard apporaches further, and the one from the laptop stands up.

"Look punk, we don't take walk ins. Nobody sees Reiber without our permission."

And with that, he swings low with his foot, hoping to knock Joe to the ground as the other moves forward with a baton.

Farther north, a warehouse, one of many, sits surrounded by police and ESWAT teams. At a walkway over the main entrance stands a man behind a barricade, laden with body armor. His back is a huge pack of belted 5.56mm NATO rounds, leading to a shortened FN Minmi machinegun.

"There's plenty more of us here, why don't you just get the f*ck away."

With these words, he slaps a belt of rounds in, SLAPs, and turns of the safety.

Behind his own barricade, a police negotiator stands with a loudspeaker.

"Listen buddy, we've got you surrounded, with ESWAT teams and gunships. You aren't coming out alive. Give it up."

All eyes of each opposing side are on eachother as guns stand at high port, ready to fire.

"Stalemate, eh? Let's flip a coin. Heads I win, tails you lose."

The ammo laden nationalist grunts, and swings the weapon at the negotiator. But things were already in motion on the police sides of the line, as the command phrase had been sent.

Through a digital scope Corporal Fredrick Arman watched the machinegunner, waiting for the order to shoot. As he recieved it over the mic, the already loaded M-33 spat flame, and a deadly Saboted .50 round at the heavily armored nationalist. Even the body armor he wore was penentrated by the huge high velocity sabot, blowing him off the walkway and onto the ground with a sickening thud. As he was firing, the assault was moving in on full swing. Guges DP Landmate series powered armor units smashed through the aluminum walls, firing M312NE HMGs at anything on their thermal sights. A gunship orbiting the area turned it's weapons turrets towards the warehouse center, using their own thermals to fire railgun rounds through the roof and onto the nationalist.

"Alpha reports clear."

"Bravo reports clear."

"Charlie reports clear."

The assault had gone out without a hitch, one of many ESWAT ones in the area as the heavily armed nationalists were found and attacks. Of course, this was one of the more tame areas. To the east, heavy gunbattles were occuring as the area slipped into bloody anarchy.

One down, plenty more to go.

Joe grabs the guy's leg and swings him into the otherguard while placing his leg to the side of the fguard where he wasn't be ing hit in attempt to trip him.

Both went down, they had not thought the man to be that strong or quick. They rolled moaning for a bit, until a much more different sound was heard.

The sharp metallic click of a magazine being loaded.

The man with the G3AZ, an elderly but insanely powerful assault rifle, firing 7.62mm/.30 caliber NATO. The shell casings could bruise anybody standing by, the large amount of powder went off so violently. And the weapon was trained at Joe's head as the nationalist lined him up with the Iron sights.

"Stop right now. GUYS!"

The door burst open, and three men with a variety of weapons walked out, all aimed at Joe. One more helped the two battered guards to their feet.

Both went down, they had not thought the man to be that strong or quick. They rolled moaning for a bit, until a much more different sound was heard.

The sharp metallic click of a magazine being loaded.

The man with the G3AZ, an elderly but insanely powerful assault rifle, firing 7.62mm/.30 caliber NATO. The shell casings could bruise anybody standing by, the large amount of powder went off so violently. And the weapon was trained at Joe's head as the nationalist lined him up with the Iron sights.

"Stop right now. GUYS!"

The door burst open, and three men with a variety of weapons walked out, all aimed at Joe. One more helped the two battered guards to their feet.
"hah, goes to show what an old HJ can do, I guess you rebel type's will take me to your leader at gunpoint. no?" Joe said matter-of-factly, "if you search my bags you'll find some nice stuff. if you take it... well i cant do much now, but see what happend to those guys? about 4 times worse."

"I think," mused the assault rifle toting man on the rooftop, "that you are in no position to be making threats. Put your hands over your head, walk forward. You're ex-specfor, you should be aware of the damage a .30 caliber round does to an unarmored body at close range."

Two men would handcuff and blindfold Joe as he approached, if he did

"yes i do," joe says as he walks forward waiting for the unknown

The men blinded him, handcuffed him, and then injected him with a hypodermic full of tranquilizer. They carried him into a building, down into a cellar, and then underground a few blocks to a room where Joe found himself waking up, still bound and chained to the wall and floor.

"I say we kill him. He's prolly a cop."

"Idiot, he's not a cop. They'd have come in with gunships if he was. See those guns? None of them are Police, ESWAT, or military issue. Made in Illior."

"So he's a merc?" spoke a third.

"Yeah. Take off the blindfold."

The muzzle of a Benelli shotgun was aimed at Joe's head as a group of men sat in an underground complex. The lighting was dim and the air stank of sewage.

"You," the man said, poking his chest with the gun, "Who are you, who do you work for, why are you here?"

The men blinded him, handcuffed him, and then injected him with a hypodermic full of tranquilizer. They carried him into a building, down into a cellar, and then underground a few blocks to a room where Joe found himself waking up, still bound and chained to the wall and floor.

"I say we kill him. He's prolly a cop."

"Idiot, he's not a cop. They'd have come in with gunships if he was. See those guns? None of them are Police, ESWAT, or military issue. Made in Illior."

"So he's a merc?" spoke a third.

"Yeah. Take off the blindfold."

The muzzle of a Benelli shotgun was aimed at Joe's head as a group of men sat in an underground complex. The lighting was dim and the air stank of sewage.

"You," the man said, poking his chest with the gun, "Who are you, who do you work for, why are you here?"

" name's Joe as i said earlier. ex spec op sniper and guerilla warfare expert. retired rank as Colnel. i'm now working for the illiorian underground. I'm here to help you with your revolution. To start, instead os attacking political targets, take out eswat snipers which hurt you horribly as i've heard."