NationStates Jolt Archive

Uncle Istvan headed briskly back to the helicopter "Well, let's not keep him waiting."

Seargent Assad put her helmet back on and and dutifully followed along with the rest. This would almost certainly be the most challenging part of the trip.

The Alconian officer nodded in thought. "Not here is the most apt way of saying it. We got diverted off the highway due to some construction. What I need is somewhere to stop this mini convoy and have a long chat with command about our next routing. Do you think the village down the way would be a good idea for this many toops or perhaps something a bit larger might not have as great a problem with a temporary encampment?"

He looked at the two policemen. "I am completely unfamiliar with the area and prefer to be as small an inconvienice to the citizens of this county as I can be...so I'm intel gathering..."

OOC: try a bribe ;)

OOC: try a bribe ;)

Alconian officers do not bribe, they have been known to give expensive gifts. Which reminds me...

The two officers looked at each other. Some odd communication passed between them, "A temporary encampment? For how long? I dare say Orleton will hold you lot for a while, there's maybe oohhh... how many people would you say Rob?"

"Couple of hundred in Orleton." the other officer ventured, "'The Black Badger' does a mean cider."

"I dare say you'll find a farmer who will let you camp in his fields if you pay him. Otherwise you might be able to rent space at the inn, but it won't hold all of you."

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Back at the new Foreign Guard base, the Dyellian helicopter took off again, destined for Cyro, "Collins is a good fellow." Alwood said, speaking as if she personally knew the Dyellian head of state, it was entirely possible she did, "He does have a bit of a temper on him though, just as long as nobody insults him this meeting will go easily."

By now the people from Ilek Vaad were probably quite familiar with Collin's history, or as much as was readily available. He had been a Socialist Party member with a certain passion for explosives which he frequently let off near to or in Fasta Benj military installations. He had been above suspicion, being ethnically a Dyellian in a Dyellian controlled society. When the revolution broke out, he had redoubled his sabotage attempts, then, when the East of Fasta Benj was assimilated into Dyelli Beybi as a semi-autonomous buffer state (against future Benjian agression) Collins had been elected head of the new State. He had then married his Kriegsmarine advisor.
Adelle Collins, despite her angelic face, had turned out to be the most ruthless pirate in the Kriegsmarine, bringing embaressment to the Government by her antics onceh er husband was elected High Chancellor of the United Republics. She had eventually been put on trial and fined a large sum of money for "endangering the High Seas Fleet" after a botched attempt to gain personal control of the Cheka and Kriegsmarine. This seemed to have no affect on her relationship with her husband, who was regarded as essentially honest, if willing to turn a blind eye to the Machievellian schemes of his wife.

Uncle Istvan and entourage sat and relaxed in the helicopter for the return flight to Cyro. The return flight was quiet as Uncle Istvan didn't seem to want to talk and just sat, staring out of the window. None of the others said anything either.

Colonel Erdogan, seemed to be staring at Alwood, although it was hard to tell with the 'blast shield' of his helmet covering his eyes.

When the helicopter finally landed Uncle Istvan sighed "Well, at the very least this is the last time I'll ever have to do this."

The Alconian officer shrugged. "Not more that twenty-four hours really, well I didn't want to wind up in some of these villages that are nothing more than a church, a town store and two paved roads intersecting. Thanks for the help, if your in Orleton while were still there, I'll buy you boys a round..."

The Alconian stood up and returned to the top of the Kobi and made a circular motion over his head.

The convoy started moving south again, towards the village.

The officers who was doing most of the talking grined, "If we're down from Soubath again in the next 24 hours I might take you up on that offer, but we're due back at the Station in an hour."

Soubath was a small town a few miles North-West, home to about 3,000 people and 24 police officers.

"If you need anything in Orleton, Constable Hashashe is the senior officer. He has one other guy under him, a new fellow, can't remember his name. Anyway they're just opposite the Church, you can't miss them. Good luck with whatever you're up to."

Orleton as it would turn out looked like just about any small mediteranean village - a cluster of whitewashed houses with red tile rooves. At the heart was a stone chruch, police office, post office, public telephone and pub surrounding a small paved square. Further investigation of the post office would yield several ATM machines just within the door.

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Colonel Erdogan was making Alwood uncomfortable. It wasn't normal, in her experience to look at people without saying anything unless you were thinking about doing something to them. After a while she decided he was probably asleep under the helmet and stopped worrying about it.

She looked out the window for a bit, decided the farmland below was quite dull, and instead used her faint reflection in the glass to fix her hair (a few stray strands had worked their way loose during the day) and straighten her uniform. She vaguely considered using the Colonel's blast shield as a mirror, but quickly decided against it. He might wake up, or even worse, not be asleep.

The flight carried them straight to Parliament, where the huge, fairly squat building loomed over their landing ground. The usual patrols of heavily armed police were about the place, although none seemed overly interested in the party. Apparently it was expected. The inside was much the same as last time as well. The main foyer had police snipers up in the balconies and officers with submachine guns on the floor. This time though, Alwood led the party left, down a coridoor with more armed police wandering back and forth and eventually to a small anteroom, which yet another officer opened the door to. Inside there was nobody. Just a few plastic trays and some chairs. The room was well lit with off-white walls, although there were no windows. A pair of double doors led out the other side.

"Right." Alwood clapped her hands together, "This is what we call the press wing. Visiting dignitaries... that's you Commander, and anyone else who may wish to proceed through, is asked to leave anything they don't to take in in those trays. I strongly recommend you leave any weapons, while there isn't a hard and fast rule in this part of Parliament, there will be AOS officers on the other side, and weapons make them... edgey."

She actually meant trigger-happy, but decided to gloss over that a bit, "On the other side there are two rooms. The first is a private office, which the High Chancellor uses on days when there are press about, and the second a press gallery. It's photographers only today so don't worry about anyone trying to interview you. They'll tell us on the intercom when it's time to go through. Are there any questions?"

Alwood was looking perhaps a little tense herself, although in her case it was because she was worried the Ilek-Vaadians would do something stupid.

Colonel Erdogan was probably not asleep, he was once again first one to the door as the helicopter landed and the first one out , leading the way, his head on a swivel as usual. Erdogan seemed to expecting an enemy attack at any second, or possibly hoping for it.

The whole group followed Alwood's lead. After her little speech Colonel Erdogan placed his rifle into (onto?) one of the trays , nobody else moved to deposit anything, with their longcoats they could each be hiding several medium sized children, and they each most certainly had some form of machete or macana.

Uncle Istvan straightened up and turned to the others "How's my hair? Is there anything in my teeth? Will we get back in time to catch The Family Guy tonight?"

Everyone chuckled as he grinned and waited "Oh, and Admiral, no matter what keep that helmet on."

Admiral Connagh-Connacht had said nothing and been practically wallpaper so far, she nodded to Uncle Istvan.

They then waited.

(We...me and small mediteranean villages don't get along well. I wiped out on a Zeppa in the last one I was in. Totalled it and me, Greek Healthcare is not recommended.)

IC: The Lost Patrol entered the square and looked about. Of course the Alconian drove the Kobi strait into the center square of town. The APC was parked infront of the church, and the open truck carrying the Benjians parked up a side street.

The Benjians almost all ran for the pup. And two marines beat them to the door. "No entry to the alchol until we set up camp. Now then...I'm going to go into the police station and find us a fallow feild we can set up camp in..."

The Captian looked at the lieutenant and motioned towards the police station. As the two went inside there was grumbling amongst the Benjian troops.

"I'm a mite thirsty..."

"F*** islanders...telling us what to do..."

"I say we shoot the bloody lot of them...then raid this place..."

"F*** Dyellians take our lands...I say we make the bastards pay..."

"Nah boys not yet...tonight we'll get our due..."

Alwood was vaguely concerned that nobody was going to ask any questions, and even more concerned by what the Admiral could be concealing under the hat, but she kept a straight face, not letting it show. It was all ridiculous, and probably aimed to put the security guards on edge she decided, and it probably wasn't a good idea to put AOS to the test. In the Tzar's days AOS was known as TWEP or 'Terminate With Extreme Prejudice'. It was said that during one hostage situation they had blown up the building (rescuing people was too much effort) as well as the surrounding block then run off and pillaged a nearby off liscence, killing the owner in the process. Of course they were infinitely more under control these days, but Alwood still didn't trust them.

'Family Guy' wasn't something she was familiar with either. Must be some Ilek Vaad thing. Then the intercom came on, "You can come in now, whatever order you like. Zara, pull up the rear."

The voice was that of Felix Dzerzhinsky, as usual when not giving direct orders he adressed his Commisaars by their first name. On the other side was another well lit office, commanding a rather nice ground level view of the River Djel. The sun was setting somewhere in the west, shedding it's last rays of light across the shimmering surface of the river. Outside was a low profile River Cruiser, bedecked with one single enormous turret. It made the boat look something like the Monitor on steroids.

Four guards were positioned around the edges of the room in small alcoves. They wore the dark green AOS uniforms, but with police caps and short sleeved shirts under theor armoured jackets. They were wearing the 'guard duty' uniform (all dark green, the AOS colour), rather than the full combat one. This didn't mean they weren't planning to use the assault rifles they carried though.

The centre of the room held a big round walnut table, one that was big enough to seat probably twice the number of guests. Nevertheless, Alwood retired to an alcove off to the side. Collins was there, the large muscular man somewhat dwarfing the more slender Dzerzhinsky at his right hand side. He stood when Istvan entered, as did Dzerzhinsky, who on closer inspection would turn out to be wearing an ear/mouth-piece, "Welcome, welcome." the High Chancellor began, his face was all smiles, but his eyes betrayed the fact that he thought this whole business was a bit of a waste of time, I trust you have found everything running smoothly at the Foreign Guard base?"

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In Orleton, Constable Hashashe turned out to be a D'Reg, who stood up, looking slightly flustered as the Alconians entered. The D'Regs were another conquered people, and like the East Benjians, had ended up tollerating the Dyellian prescence, mainly because it made them very rich. A fact which only helped to increase the tension with the West Benjians (the East Benjians were culturally nearly Dyellian anyway).

As well as his arabic features, Hashashe carried a scimitar, something D'Reg police and military carried to mark themselves apart, when he spoke though, his accent was wholly Dyellian, "What can I do for you Gentlemen of the JDF?"

(OOC: Alcona I'm guessing your guys are West Benjians, the one's who hate DB's guts. The stuff about the East Benjians is my reason why DB isn't daily torn to shreds by terrorist attacks.)

(Nods, yup no problem. I'm assuming after the Benjian collapse a good number of young men and women signed up to the JDF because it was really the only opportunity available. Of course the 16th has some serious problems and bad apples)

IC: The Alconian marine Captain had a wry grin seeing the sword. Both he and the D'reg were the only two people wearing swords. Almost all alconians carried the standard sword-bayonet that had been in use since the 19th century. "I am captain Andrews and this is lieutenant...er..."
"Parks, sir."

"Ah, yes horrible with names there Parks. We were conducting a scouting exercise but got a bit off track. We were hopping you might know a farmer with a fallow feild or some open green we could camp for twenty four hours and give the boys and girls a rest before returning to the main body, tramping up and down dunes can be quite tireing."

"Hrrrm." the police officer considered this, in truth he didn't pay much attention to who had fallow fields, "Hrrm, well I'm not completely certain about that one."

There was a pause in which he seemed to be struggling to find an answer, "What you could do is head down to the Wind Farm, it's about 10 kilometres South West of here, right on the coast you can't miss it. They have some land that you could set up on, they don't farm there because the ground is too rocky, just speak to the site manager I'm sure he won't mind. There's actually a military base down there as well, part of the Fourth Republican Army I think."

The Fourth Republican Army was stationed along this part of the coastline. The base Hashashe described was one of theirs, although it's particular purpose was as much to keep an eye on the new Foreign Guard as to watch for potential invasions from the Sea (which was what most of the army was doing).

The Alconian officer shook his head. "That is ten klics out of our way. And on very hard ground it sounds like. I'll just pop my head into the bar and see if anyone has an acre or so they'd like to rent out for the night. Come on Parks...Thank you constable."

The two men turned to leave the police station and head towards the pub.

Uncle Istvan smiled as he entered and offered his hand to Collins "Good afternoon Chancellor, a pleasure to meet. Yes everything seems to be in order. General Imro is very thorough and he has a good bunch of lads so far and your Alwood seems to be giving him a good deal of help. Quiet girl though."

He pauses and motions "This is my Staff Seargent Mirai Assad, Colonel Mustapha Erdogan, Admiral El' Arren Connagh-Connacht and I believe you've met General Imro."

each of his staff nodded as he introduced them.

He grinned to collins "I hope Imro hasn't ruffled any feathers? He's not the most politically correct person but he means well."

"Quiet?" Collins obviously was familiar with Alwood, "That doesn't sound like the same Commisaar I know. Is she ill?"

He waved a hand dismissively, "Never mind, it's a pleasure to meet you all. Some of you may be familiar with Commisaar Dzerzhinsky, the Chief Constable of the Cheka and also the Secretary to the High Chancellor."

Dzerzhinsky nodded, but didn't volunteer anything at this point, leaving it over to the National leader, "If the General has been steeping on toes it has certainly gone unnoticed by myself and Parliament, from what I've heard everything is going rather smoothly."

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"Not to mention it, sorry I couldn't be more help." Hashashe replied, "If you see Gerard, tell him he was due back at the Station twenty minutes ago."

The pub turned out to be more promising. There was a somewhat drunk farmer with several acres of fallow field half a kilometre to the East of town, who was willing to allow a camp to be set up there, in exchange for someone driving him and his beat up DBFC 4x4 back home.

Somewhere else in the village, someone was radioing information to Cyro. It was a heavily encrypted transmition, the kind you got in the Intelligence service...

Andrews thanked the farmer and let Parks help the man out to his 4X4 to led the convoy. Before he himself departed he made a few inquires with the pup owner,

"That chap there..." pointing to the inebriated farmer, "likely won't be up by the time we leave tommorrow. I was wondering if the boy happened to have a tab I might pay off, as a gesture of thanks for his hospitality?"


"Oh, and one more thing, your likely going to have some of our boys wander in here looking to parch their thirst. I'm going to station a few guards outside so nothing gets out of hand. Don't hesitate to ask for help before they start swinging punches..."

Parks got the farmer into his four by four and then began leading the Lost Patrol out to the farmer's feild. Almost everyone was happy it was such a short walk out of town.

The tank, if she had a proper crew could have intercepted the transmission. However, the Kobi didn't have a proper crew, and the radio operator of the APC was the Captain himself.

(0.5 klicks won't get me to the back feild at home.)

The publican counted up the bill, "Ol' Ted owes me 12 Kronors and 15 pence."

It was next to nothing, but then again, booze was cheap in Dyelli Beybi, "I'll make sure your guys at the door know if any trouble looks lie it might be starting, anyone I should be keeping an eye on?"

His voice was slow, that of a man living a slow laid back life, hours away from a city of any significance.

(OOC: It's meant to be a field that basically backs onto the gardens of the last houses)

Uncle Istvan chuckles and pats the Chancellor on the shoulder affably. He also offered his hand to Dzerzhinsky when introduced.

"I don't what your schedule is like, but I have had a request from the Republican Council to speak with your privately for a few minutes? Nothing important or serious, just something we want to offer our expertise on, should you need it."

The Captain shook his head, "I've got a mixed crew right now. Of the troublemakers I know of Bill and Ted tend to bump heads over pretty young lasses on occasion. And Sargent Bathurst has a tendency to become a bit energetic when he's had too much. But I'll get Brathurst to get a game going tonight which should keep them occupied and out of trouble."

The Captain paused in thought, "I would suggest warning your regulars to keep out of their game. Euchre is a bit complicated for beginners."

He tossed a twenty Krondor bill on the bar. "Now then I hear that you have a good cider to try..."

***
Parks new why he was directing setting up camp. It was his command that had screwed up now he could finish cleaning up the mess.

The Marines deployed their pup tents and the 16th deployed some more common white canvas tents on the feild. The Kobi was loaded back onto the armored flat-bed and the Saxon was parked near the gate. The alconian APC was parked in the middle of the feild with command of the area.

Parks leaned against the side of the APC and looked on as Sargent Bathurst orginized a party of marines and infantrymen to go fill up water jugs while a corporal sat down and set up a small stove. At least they would have hot MREs tonight.

"16th Command this here be Parks....we nar' hava located eur'selves on der charts...'ver...Aye sir...ner town of Orleton, location...."

Parks, in his odd Jiggdian accent began to work out with 16th Infantry Command a route to rejoin the rest of the JDF convoy. As he talked he marked down a route on a map pearched on his leg using a black grease pencil.

Unknown to Parks, part of his small command was schemeing black bloody muntiny

Dzerzhinsky shook the proferred hand, but again didn't speak, giving a smile and nod of recognition.

"Well if you have anything you want to air feel free, my evening is pretty much empty apart from a few boring reports on the budget." Collins replied, although he had no idea what Ilek Vaad thought they might be able to help Dyelli Beybi with, "Go ahead, take a seat tell me what's on your mind."

Collins at his ease seemed to behave in a very similar manner to Istvan, although years of watching the injustices of the Tzarist regime, followed by the unpleasantness of an MMP election system had given him a foul temper.

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The publican served up a pint of a deep red cider, known locally as 'tanglefoot' due to it's reputation for hitting one's coordination before hitting your ability to think (it was also 12% v/v which helped). Many a farmer had driven home, thinking he was fine, only to find he could barely walk to his front door when he got home. He also returned 7 kronors and 85 pence, all minted in Dyelli Beybi. Dyelli Beybian Kronors didn't have the President or anyone else on the 'heads' side, instead this was replaced by small artistic works of propaganda showing the heroic struggle of the Revolution. He had scrupulously returned the correct change. Another thing about Dyelli Beybians was they didn't tip, in fact, it was often regarded as an insulting gesture, and caused quite a few embarresing situations for foreigners.

Ol' Ted meanwhile, thanked his driver before stumbling off to his bed where he promptly fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Dyellian's don't tip. Flashed through the Captain's mind as he looked for a tip jar.

The Captain tried to dig up the faint memories of a 'cultrual instruction session' that he had had almost a decade ago. One of those mind numbing day long things that left most of the participants focusing on who in the opposite sex (or same sex for some) were available for some late night activities.

Andrews shook his head and asked, "Hey you don't happen to have an empty jar back there...we've sort of have a tradition that a man who buys a drink has to make a donation to...the War Orphan's Fund...of course we don't have a jar to put the donations in..."

The Dyellians think they are donations, the boys think their tips. Everyone happy, even the War Orphans, whoever they are...

OOC: No tips...no bloody tips...
Americans rejoice their is now an even more hated group in world traveling than Yanks.
French waiters don't spit in Dyellian's food, The French take a detour to the bathroom first!
Of course that leaves the question what do Dyellians do in a strip club? Try to get the girls to shake their booty for some Dyellian folk singing?
Sorry about all that but the implications in the rest of the world are such that no wonder you seem to have an inferiority complex...service always sucks.

Uncle Istvan nodded and took a seat and relaxed "Well Chancellor, keep in mind I do not mean to offend in any way, General Imro says it's a bit of a touchy subject , but I want to offer our expertise in helping you with your 'Gonad Elf' problem...."

General Imro smiled at Alwood , recalling his joke about 'fighting the Gonad Elves'.

"You see we have experts in the Foreign Ministry and the Retaliatory Guard that have certain credentials when dealing with members of the Longeavi races."

Uncle Istvan pauses and nods to Admiral Connagh-Connacht, she removes her silver helm as he does. Her long curly black hair is pulled back into a ponytail, contrasting her paper white skin. With her helmet off it is clear that her eyes are red and she has pointy, elven ears.

"Not only are there a few Longeavi in our Retaliatory Guard, but we have Ambassadors that specialize in dealing with Longeavi nations like Menelmacar and the Commonality. If you think that we might be of assistance then we'd be glad to help. Help cement our relationship."

Uncle Istvan paused and cleans his sunglasses while he awaits the shock and maybe an answer.

OOC: Vaadians are pretty good tippers.

OOC: Haven't you people figured it out by now?
Everyone wants to meet the Gonad Elves. They sort of forget the Gonad Elves don't really want to meet them or more appropriately they want to make arangements for them to meet God.

OOC: I dont think you got the wrong end of the stick with the 'no tipping' business. I'm borrowing bits for Dyelli Beybi from different cultures around the world, this particular bit is based on NZ 30 or more years ago. NZlanders going overseas gave tips, but not at home, it used to be regarded as an insult - by implying you needed another person's charity.
Tips in NZ are still something that only rich snobs and foreign tourists (who havn't read their handbooks) do, although people will accept them without quibbling these days.
I think you'll find NZlanders aren't generally hated, it's because we realise everybody else does it in their home countries, and we're smart enough not to travel with a sense of cultural superiority, I'm RPing the Dyellian culture as similar in these respects.

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"Jesus." Collins blasphemed, "Why does that always come up?"

He didn't seem at all phased by the Admiral though, although Dzerzhinsky was giving her a calculating look.

"You can go and try to talk to the elves in the Gonad, but don't be surprised if your Ambassador tortured to death and then served as the main course, don't say you havn't been warned."

"This is nothing personal to you, understand me, I'm trying to tell you this for the safety of your own people." Collins continued, "If you send people in there, they will die, in a most gruesome and unpleasant manner, be they elven, human, dwarf or orc."

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The publican (who was drying another glass) gave Andrews a blank look, "If you want to make a donation to the war orphans you can make it in the Church."

At least he assumed you could, "If you don't want to move, Father Pipes usually pops in for a pint some time around 5 pm."

"I'd hold onto your money for now though." he added helpfully, "Some light fingered sod might pinch it if you put it in a jar."

The Captain gave the bar tender a wry smile. "I am sure that when you hand Father Pipes a jar full of coins for the War Orphans tommorrow that...well I don't know what they do when their really happy actually. Now then, do you really expect someone around here to be silly enough to steal from a jar that says "War Orphan Fund" with JDF troopers in here tonight? If somone is that desperate, perhaps they need the money."

He took a sip of the cider. "So how about that Jar, a peice of paper, and a pen." We can still make this work

*******
Parks finished his conversation on the radio. "Yes sir, we will be pulling at at oh, five hundread tommorrow. Yes, I will inform the Captain at one sir." He handed back the handset to the radio operator and stood up. "Well this little misadventure will be over soon." He stood and walked out from under the command tent secured to the side of the APC, past the men now making up tea and dinner for the troops and back towards the road.

Park's didn't notice that a good number of the Benjians were leaning up against the side of the Saxon. Or what they were talking about. Although ATM was mentioned several times as he passed.

*******
To: Dyellian High Command
From: 16th JDF Light Infantry Command

Due to missing a turn, relating to the detour caused by highway construction, two small detachments of the 16th and the Alconian Marines have been accidently diverted to the village of Orleton. They shall be returning to the main group by tommorrow afternoon. Presently, they have found quarters for the night. Be advised that we forsee no futher problems with this group. Nor has any altercations between the local population and these troops occured.

In addition, we have noticed a severe problem with our GPS units being unreliable across your state. Please advise if you might know what is causing this problem.

OOC: Well if Dyellians tip outside of Dyelli Beybi I wll go up there and change it. But my general assumption has been that the Klatch is sort of like the U.S. in terms of internal travel. People keep doing the same thing because we are all Americans and one culture right? (That is decidely not the case) So I had assumed Dyellians wander north, west, east, and don't tip their fellow Klatchians. (They might if in Ilek-Vaad or somewhere else) Nothing like having people order sweet tea north of the Mason-Dixie line.

Uncle Istvan smiled to Collins "It's the old 'impossible problem' syndrome. Whenever you have a problem that defies being solved, people that think they're smarter will assume that you're an idiot an offer to solve it for you, or tell you how to solve it."

He put his sunglasses back on " I have no intention of trying to solve the 'Gonad Elf' issue and I simply wanted to offer our help, if you need it. We aren't in the habit of sending our people in to solve others issues unless explicitly invited to do so, so just consider the offer as being on the table. I personally would assume that you know what you're doing and that our involvement would only complicate things.

So, if you need our help, it's there. If you want us to butt out, consider our butts out."

The Admiral smiled at Dzerzhinsky as he sized her up.

OOC: People keep doing the same thing because we are all Klatchian and one culture right? Well considering in some parts they practice slavery and eat humans for breakfast and in others the head of State is infallable, some States are heavily populated by Sentient Walruses or funny lizard men, I'd tend to say no. The culture changes markedly in different parts of DB even. Don't bother editing your post though, it would be far too much work.

Collins nodded, then decided to take a more diplomatic tack, "I apologise if I've seemed rude, but well, over the years we've just about ended up at war quite a number of times because of this ridiculous problem with the elves."

He paused, "It is of course a very generous offer, and one which we will accept, however we urge you all, if you go in there, to go in with extreme caution and heavily armed. It isn't only humans they kill in there. They kill other elves as well."

Meanwhile Dzerzhinsky had slipped around his leader to talk to the Admiral, "I know this is going to seem like a massive intrusion on your time Admiral, but if you have any spare time in Dyelli Beybi, might I be able to borrow you for a bit?"

He seemed quite earnest, but then again, Dzerzhinsky was the kind of man who could seem exactly how he wanted to seem, "It's to do with Himmler's genetic research project, but I'll fill you in on the specifics later, if you chose to accept."

Otto Himmler was the previous High Chancellor of Dyelli Beybi, and was still a major political player, although there were only rumours among intelligence networks that he was involved in genetics.

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The publican seemed to find this a lot of extra effort, but wasn't a bad sort, and did what the strange foreigner asked, labeling the jar "War Orphans Collection Jar, Donations to Father J. Pipes, Jesuit."

The Father was one who was relatively proud of being a Jesuit, Dyelli Beybi being a country mainly full of Marist and Rosminian Priests. Adding the Jesuit to the end was something of an in joke with the locals.

Andrews shrugged, threw a Kronor into the jar and then went off to a table to enjoy his cider. A few moments later Parks strolled in and ordered an ale. He paid, threw some pence into the jar, and then sat down with Andrews to discuss the map.

****
OOC: Will edit

The Admiral grimaced everytime the word 'elf' was used, the Bendith weren't exactly partial to 'elves' either and the Admiral was even less so, for personal reasons. She wasn't actually very fond of Bendith either.

Uncle Istvan nodded to Collins "Well, I think we can at least have a couple of our lads go have a look at these 'Gonad Elves' and if they aren't predisposed to having a chit-chat I think my lads may be able to improve their manners somewhat."

He paused and glanced over at Colonel Erdogan " What do you think Colonel, do we have anyone onboard the Tetzcatlipoca that's armed to the teeth?"

Colonel Erdogan grinned widely "Just everyone Uncle Istvan."

Uncle Istvan nodded "Well, there we have it, at the very least I'm sure that we can rub out a couple of of these Gonadians." He turned to the Admiral "You'll have to go with them Admiral, I want your expert opinion on these savage Longeavi types, if you would be so kind?"

The Admiral nodded "Very well." her tone was less that pleased.

The Admiral then turned and looked down her nose at Dzerzhinsky "Borrow me , Commissar? I never do anything for free." she sounded as though she meant it.

Dzerzhinsky was smiling benignly, "Payment?" he gave her a look that managedto appear both deeply insulted and mocking at the same time, "You believed we would give you nothing in return? We will give you some of the worlds most valuable comodity. Information."

Collins meanwhile seemed to have regained his cool, having had a brief concern the Vaadians were about to give him a talk about saving the cute little elves in the East, "We can get you in contact with the Army in the East, you know, if you get stuck in there and need lifting out quickly, I'm sure they'll be happy to oblige."

The Army in the East would in fact be livid that they had to escort more foreigners around the Gonad, where they were likely to get themselves killed, resulting in the blame being heaped on the Dyellian military...

Uncle Istvan smiled to Collins "That'd be fine, I'll have our efforts co-ordinated with them. I don't want to get in our way though, we have Marathon Transports and everything else we need onboard the Teztcatlipoca, so we can lift ourselves in and out. It is of course vital to keep the Army in the East in the loop so that they know where we are and don't shoot us accidentially.'

He paused and looked over his shoulder at Erdogan "Get about twenty of the lads ready when we get back. You'll lead the party in, under the guidance of our Admiral."

The Admiral smiles at Dzerzhinsky "Information? I don't have any need or use for information."

Uncle Istvan chuckled "You're one your own in getting her to help with your genetics research, I'm already going to make her go after the Gonadites. I'm going to be in trouble for that already, I'm not digging my grave any deeper."

The Admiral smiled at Istvan, a pleasant if mildly deranged smile.

Dzerzhinsky looked annoyed, not being used to getting a no from anyone, especially not with such a daft answer. Everyone needed information. He began to consider how he could get her help without her permission, and fairly swiftly came up with a plan.

"I have no idea what a marathon transport is." Collins continued, "But well there's really only two ways of inserting from memory, you can walk in, or get dropped in either by paradrop or by helicopter insertion."

"I would offer you the use of a tracker who's familiar with the terrain, but as I'm sure you're aware, the elves hate us, it would do more harm than good. If you need a helicopter or two, air support, anything like that, don't hesitate to ask."

Collins would be relaying this onto his Generals who would be far from pleased with his little performance. Most disliked it when the Head of State meddled with the Military.

OOC: will respond tmorrow, flu, can't type, must shut down reactor core............

Uncle Istvan nodded as Collins talked and replied as he finished.

"The Marathon is a VTOL transport, my lads usually rappel down into a drop site, so we have transportation covered. A guide of course would be useful, but maybe not." He shrugged as an almost audible switch clicked into his head from friendly gregarious Istvan, to devious,cool and calculating Istvan. "I think it would be best if my lads approached these Gonad Elves as an outside, alien force attempting to get into the Gonad not only past them, but also past your border controls. I wouldn't want to have a guide that may tip them off by mere presence that my lads were working with someone."

He rubbed his chin "It would look better if my lads came in fast and low with some accompanying fireworks and such to alert the Gonad Elves that maybe an enemy of their enemy is in the area, they'll be less likely to kill if they see an oppurtunity for gain against us worthless humans."

He grins and looks back at Admiral Connagh-Connacht. "As for the Admiral's help with your little project..............DNA specimens are something that I can't, and wouldn't , order her to hand over. Whatever you can work out is fine. You scratch my back and we'll see if I can't scratch some Gonad Elves off of yours?"

The Admiral smiles at Dzerzhinsky as Uncle Istvan finishes.

"I don't want DNA." Dzerzhinsky replied, but made no effort to elaborate on what he did want.

Collins shrugged, "Whatever you want, but I'll warn you, as far as I know they've never negotiated with humans. I don't think you're going to get permission to fire on any Dyellian border units either. I imagine the General in the area would take a very low view of anything that meant he'd lose troops or equipment."

"I hardly intended to suggest that we kill any Dyellian soldiers, just a suggestion to make it look as though my forces entrance into the theatre was contested, to give the 'Gonad Elves' a bit of a reason to react a bit more favourably to my men. "

Istvan paused and rubbed his forehead "If we appear to be your enemy then they at least may be inclined to try and exploit my men to aid them, possibly giving the Admiral here some leverage to gather intelligence and to gain an upper hand of sorts."

"Oh right." Collins grinned, "Just so long as we're talking along the same wavelength. Sacrificing soldiers isn't something we do. It's bad for morale and means we have to train new ones. I'm sure we can send up a few fireworks. Apparently they're trialing some new missile system out there, what's it called Felix?"

"Lancia 100." Felix supplied.

"Yeah anyway." Collins continued, not seeming at all interested in the Lancia, "We can organise for you to fly past while they're sending a few of them off. There'll be some nice big explosions."

"Lancia 100 is a truck mounted system for hitting high altitude bombers, and lower stuff of course." Dzerzhinsky explained, "So we'll just send the UAV target at an altitude close to your own and it'll look like we're shooting at you. Part of the Pikelheimer military reform."

Uncle Istvan nodded "Okay then. It sounds like the rudimentary beginnings of a plan." He paused and smiled "Is there anyone else you'd like rubbed out as long as we're at it?"

"Rubbed out?" Collins shook his head, "Nope. If he elves fight back feel free to blow them to kingdom come, but do try to keep the explosions to a minimum, we don't want to upset the neighbours."

"Now unless there's anything else?" Collins inquired, "I think we can get down to the all important press photograph, I'll say some stuff about international relations, then we shake hands and leave. Next morning the papers will all be trumpeting either what a great success this is for international relations or what a sellout I am, depending upon who the editor votes for."

He seemed to regard the whole upcoming press encounter as a big joke, although Dzerzhinsky had adpoted a long-suffering look. Dzerzhinsky wasn't lacking in a sense of humour, but he didn't view the feelings of the press as a laughing matter. The press and the Church were the two forces you needed on your side in Dyellian politics, and he'd much prefer it if the High Chancellor wasn't voted out.

Uncle Istvan nodded "I don't think there's anything else we need to discuss." He stood and prepared to meet the press.

His entourage moved with him, none of them looked at all happy about meeting the press. Uncle Istvan was notoriously hard on reprters and was always quick to offer his opinion that they were mindless, muckraking cretins.

He paused as he stood "You know, you should covince the press of the journalistic value of interviewing Gonad Elves. What a scoop that would be." He smiled.

"Somehow I don't think they'd listen to me." Collins remarked dryly.

The next room was well, a press gallery. Collins made a speech full of cliches about peace and cooperation, while being photographed nearly constantly. He then insisted on shaking Istvan's hand, which was clearly a photo opportunity. Istvan wasn't asked to say anything, especially not to the reporters who had been told there would be no 'question time'.

The press meeting ended fairly shortly after that, with Collins retreating back into his 'Press Office', "We'll put you in contact with the General on the Eastern front.... err border." he said with a slight smile implying the slip wasn't entirely accidental.

Uncle Istvan graciously shook Collins hand (something no Vaadian Politician can said to have done) and smiled for the cameras.

He nodded as they headed back into the press office "At the very least I think that was more demeaning to the Press than to us. I'm sure my lads can work something out with your Eastern Commander and then we'll sort out all this Gonadian Elf business. I think it's getting near dinner time by now?"

He looked inquisitively about for a clock.

There didn't seem to be a clock anywhere in the office that was big enough to read at range, however the sun had set. The sun set fairly regularly at 6 pm in Cyro, which meant it was probably around 7 or 8 pm.

"Well quite." Collins replied, he seemed to be in a good mood. The whole thing had been carried out in true Dyelli Beybian style, the country was full of intrigue, and not every faction vying for power was interested in the democratic system.

"Now I'm picking you for the kind of man who favours a not overly cooked steak or leg of pork? Unfortunately I won't be able to join you, would you believe how much paperwork comes with the job?"

"In all seriousness." Felix chipped in, "I don't know if you've heard of the Neo Tyr situation?... well it's growing into a fairly major headache for the Government."

"Lucky for us though." Collins continued, "The opposition can't decide whether they'd rather we pulled out or stamped all over the Neo Tyrans... anyway, I'll order to General that way to contact you, I hear you're seeing an armament factory tomorrow, so I'm sure you have better things to do that have conversations with some nob's voicemail."

Alwood yawned in the background, covering her mouth hastily, looking like she was just about on her last legs.

Uncle Istvan nodded "Yes,I'm quite partial to large slabs of barely cooked meat. I would believe the amounts of paperwork you I have. I'm leaving my sucessor a backlog of eighteen years worth of paper work." He paused and looked thoughtfully back at Imro "You may still technically be a Colonel."

General Imro didn't show any emotion and simply stated "Bugger,sir."

Uncle Istvan chuckled "Well, we'll get out of your hair then. I'm sure that your Commissar Alwood can handle us from here."

He stood and shook Collins and Dzerzhinky's hands " Good evening Gentlemen."

"Enjoy your evening." Collins replied.

"You'll find Cyro is a well behaved city." Dzerzhinky put in (whatever that was supposed to mean).

Alwood seemed to visibly relax after leaving the prescence of the High Chancellor, and reentering the room with the plastic trays and weapons, although she was acutely aware that the Supreme Republican Commander had just said she could 'handle us', this meant she was expected to do something, when in truth she just felt like getting drunk... again, "So do you have anything particular in mind, Sir?"

Everyone waited while Colonel Erdogan re-armed himself. Uncle Istvan shrugged to Alwood.

"How about some food? I haven't eaten all day, I don't think Erdogan has either, he gets cranky when he hasn't eaten, starts eating homeless people. General Imro mentioned that you knew all the spots in Cyro and that you knew how to show a gentleman a good time."

He winked salaciously.

"So someplace quite, relaxed, where we can have our privacy and unwind. I'll be damned if I have dinner aboard ship tonight. I've been in that thing for nearly a month."

Admiral Connagh-Connacht smiled "Oh, boo-hoo, a whole month? Most of the crew has been aboard for eight months. Scurvy land-lubber!"

Uncle Istvan ignored the comment "So lead on Inspector-Commissar, call some friends, we'll make a night of it."

"Luckily for us then, Dyelli Beybi is a welfare state." This translated into next to no homeless people. If people were homeless in Dyelli Beybi they invariably had a serious drug or alcohol problem, which usually meant they got arrested and forcibly sent to detox...

"I don't know if you want my friends around." she replied, with that slight twinkle in her eye that suggested that the Republican Commander had put her at her ease, "Spooks tend to ruin a good party. We're naturally very gloomy people."

"If you give me thirty minutes I can probably have a Steakhouse cleared of all the locals and taken over for Cheka business?" she offered, "Otherwise we could always try the place I took the General to before, although I think the General was a little nervous there might be terrorists in the marsh."

She didn't mention the fact that the marshes were crawling with crocodiles and hippopotami, and as such were probably the most dangerous place in Dyelli Beybi. Se'd told Imro that before, he could pass the information on if he wanted to.

General Imro smiled "Not terrorists, snipers. Well, I suppose they could be terrorist snipers."

Uncle Istvan chuckled "Most cities have problems with muggers, you've got snipers. I'd hate to see the cockroaches. Well, whichever you think would be best Commissar. Just keep in mind that I'm judging you by each and every action and word and that I won't hesitate to have a talk with your superiors if I'm at all disappointed in the slightest manner. " He added through a smile.

"Make sure it's some place that has drinks." Chimed in Seargent Assad

Uncle Istvan looked over at her and sighed in a depressed manner " I don't know , I think I may have a problem with alcohol."

Assad looked shocked "Really?"

Uncle Istvan laughed "Nah, I'm just kidding. Now let's go drink until we can't feel feelings."

"Well if there are any Snipers in Cyro, I hope they've got a gun liscence." the Comissaar pouted. Dyelli Beybi had some of the strictest gun controls in Klatch, you simply couldn't get one without a very convincing reason.

Alwood was too sober to look alarmed at te prospect of being complained about, "I'm sure you'll find me more than satisfactory." she assured the Republican Commander.

She suddenly blushed, aware of just how that comment sounded, "I just need to ring... some people."

With that she retreated to the corner of the room, and spent a couple of minutes on a cellphone, arguing with someone. Apparently the Government would compensate him or her for 'lost business'.

After she'd hung up, she turned back to the Vaadians, giving them her most wining smile, "Shall we go? I've had a place downtown cleaned out."

Upon reaching the Commisaar's choice of venue. It became clear that this was probably one of her more regular haunts, she definantel seemed to know the barman, and he didn't seem at all surprised to see she was a Commisaar.

The place was downstairs, in a well lit basement. Off-white walls gave the place a cheerful, somewhat-sophisticated atmosphere. It was fairly typical Dyellian decor on the inside. All steel and glass. It seemed to be some kind of cross between a restaurant and a pub. It had a proper menu, which seemed to bemostly beef or crocodile steaks.

The barman seemed to be the one in charge, he was a burly looking man (for a Dyellian) with 'hold fast' tattooed across his knuckles, "Richard didn't want to move. He said you wouldn't mind." he explained to Alwood.

A smart looking man in his thirtires, blue eyes and lighter coloured hair than was usual in a Dyellian, was slumped at the far end of the bar. He was wearing a slightly rumpled looking business suite, "Err no, I guess it would be rude to move him... what do you want?"

Her question was aimed at the Vaadians, it also drew atention away from 'Richard'.

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The next day was going to prove problematic. Overnight the Pope died. This mean that Dyelli Beybi effectively closed down for nine days. Nothing was open, with the exception of essential businesses (pubs and bars were counted as essential). Everything was left on hold while the majority Catholic country observed a nine day period of mourning. It was something which foreign businessmen, caught up during the deaths of previous Pope's had described as 'bloody annoying'.

(OOC: I know you RP this being a few years into the future, but I couldn't resist including a dead Pope to stir things up a little. The second bit of the post is more of an advanced warning than anything, it isn't supposed to hurry things along.)

OOC: Well, I'm sure Popes will die in the future. They did die at an alarming clip in the Renaissance ;)

IC:
Uncle Istvan shrugs as he picks a booth and heads for it. "I don't mind, having a local around will add color to the place." He had been wrinkling his nose at the decor " Steel and glass." He chuckled.

They all paused and the Red Jaguar began removing their kits as to get comfortable, They removed their helmets, gauntlets and banded armour , as well as several ammo clips, packs of C4 and various side arms that had been hidden under their coats and attached directly to their armour. Under their armour they had t-shirts with various cheery slogans on them. In particular Uncle Istvan's reads 'Go Ugly Early'. The Red Jaguar seem to have an above average amount of rather hideous scars on their exposed portions of flesh.

They pile their kits into one booth and then settle into a corner booth. Admiral Connagh-Connacht moves quickly to take the spot at Uncle Istvan's right aside and proceeds to cuddle up to him. Uncle Istvan then takes charge.

"Alright, barkeep, we'll start with drinks. I'll have a pint of whatever your best local lager is, the Admiral here will have a glass of Pinot Noir........... Erath 1999 Select, if you have it. The Seargent there will have double vodka with lime, Colonel Erdogan will have a Bristols Cream Sherry , General Imro, there, a double Glenlivet , neat." He then pauses and considers Alwood "Let's see the Commissar will have..............a vodka martini, dirty, with two olives."

As they wait for the drinks and relaxe Assad turns to Alwood "So, what was the name of that Hauptmann that greeted us at the docks? Fradkov was it?"

Admiral Connacht laughed "Yes, he was particularly dashing, he was happy to see us, or had a bannanna in his cod piece............"

Uncle Istvan looked hurt "Dashing? I'm dashing."

Admiral Connacht squeezed his arm "Well daddy, you're dashing in a bloody, pirate type way. That Hauptmann was dashing in the hero who saves you from the pirates way."

They had a little laugh at that.

(OOC: Sorry for my late replying. I've been rather busy for the last few days)

The barman seemed unconcerned by the weapons. This was either a very odd restaurant/bar or the fellow was an expert at pulling a poker face.

Unlike the Vaadians, Alwood wasn't going to strip down, or else she'd end up in her underwear, which wasn't overly encouraged in public. She did put her cap to one side though. Apart from that she didn't lose any of the uniform, even the tight collar remained firmly buttoned. She was also maybe sitting a little stiffly, "Much obliged Commander." she looked and sounded happy that Istvan had remembered she was at the table.

"Fradkov?" Alwood seemed slightly surprised, "Wasn't that the Commisaar?"

She shrugged, then grinned, "Well within the month, whatever his name was, he'll soon be called Capitano... they've overhauling the military. The Government decided the traditional Germanic ranks smacked of Nazism."

"Everything is becoming so politically correct these days." she complained, "If you want I could try to find out who the Hauptmann was? It'll all be on file."

A fairly typical short and slender Dyellian male appeared, with the drinks on a stainless steel tray that had probably been chosen to match the decor, and set about very carefully passing the drinks out. Behind him, someone else who the barman seemed unable to restrain had entered the room and made his way straight to the man at the bar.

The newcomer was a D'Reg, similarly dressed in a suite, short and muscular, in a wiry kind of way. He carrid a black briefcase, which was put on the floor between the pair, who began to converse in low tones. In many countries they might be thought to be an organised crime cyndicate, but this was Dyelli Beybi... they were probably spooks.

Orleton, late in the evening

The pub in town was perhaps thrity minutes from closing. The last hand of Whilst was being played, with the Alconian Captain acting as a fourth. The two marine sentries outside the door were wondering what their beds were going to feel like. In all it had been a fairly pleasent evening up to that point.

Back at camp things were quiet. Men sat around a couple of campfires talking while a sentry at the gate to the farmland quietly stood looking up and down the road.

An Alconian noncom sat quietly next to the radio in the personel carrier. His eyes poorly adjusted to the dark out beyond the open door. He sat and sipped his tea and listened to some distant radio chatter.

Then his ears filled with a roar. The carrier suddenly heaved up on one side and kept going, the open door looking now at the green of a hay feild.

the noncom blanked out when his head slammed into the upper part of the bulkhead.

When he came to a few moments later the sound of fire and men moaning filled the air. The personel carrier was upside down. Brinks pulled himself forward and out onto the fallow feild.

His eyes first noticed that the white canvas of the tents were now strewn about the feild. Then he noticed the twisted shapes laying about the ground, illumianted by the fire light. Men and woman, twisted about. Most still had their eyes open, hands on weapons.

As corporal Brinks pushed around the side of the carrier he saw the Kobi sitting resting half in the ground, half on the tailer. The only thing that wasn't there anymore was the Saxon.

"Hey corp...get your tail overhear..." came out of the darkness behind him. A head appeared just above the low stone wall in the distance.

-----
The Saxon and her crew of Benjian marauders drove like mad men back towards the center of town.

Colonel Erdogan watched the two 'spooks' intently as he sipped at his sherry, an odd thing to watch say the least. He certainly looked as though he was offended by their presence, not that he hasn't looked unoffended or even vaguely happy all day.

The rest of the group didn't seem to notice.

Seargent Assad shrugged "I think they both Fradkov, they looked vaguely related."

Uncle Istvan grinned as he set down his beer after a large chug "How could you tell? All of these foreign devils look alike!"

Admiral Connacht shrugs and sips her wine "All I know is when you do find his name , just have him report to the Admiral's quarters onboard the Teztcatlipoca I'll show him how to tie a sailors knot."

Uncle Istvan chuckles and Seargent Assad looks indignant " I saw him first, and I asked about him, you'll just have to wait your turn."

Erdogan turned "Maybe you two should fight to see who gets him?"

Uncle Istvan smiles "In wet t-shirts, superb idea Mustapha!"

Admiral Connacht smacks Istvan's thigh "That's sexual harassment daddy."

Uncle Istvan grimaces "I think you calling me daddy is breaking some laws.........What would my girlfriend say?"

This looked as though it may turn into a long evening, and no one was drunk as of yet.

The probable Cheka agents didn't seem to much like Erdogan staring at them either. Whatever they were up to was clearly private, and the pair left the bar, leaving the Vaadians and Alwood as the only customers.

She was at something of a loss as to what to say in such a close knit circle, so instead opted to say nothing, and to retire into the corner and try to drink herself unconscious. Considering she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, it probably wasn't going to take very long...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Orleton sat peacefully. Only a few lights remained on in the village, people went to bed early in the country. In Cyro the evening was only just starting...

Erdogan grins, having scared off the Cheka with his menacing stares, he seems in a better mood after they leave, although it's hard to tell.

The group continue their banter.

"Your girlfriend Istvan?" Imro inquires " You mean the one you haven't seen or talked to for eight months?"

Admiral Connacht laughs "He'll get a call from her in another month!"

Uncle Istvan frowns "It hasn't been eight months, has it? " he glances at Seargent Assad.

Assad looks thoughtful " Seven or eight, it was her birthday when you let her come to Tollan. You said you'd call her when she got home.........."

Uncle Istvan finishes his pint "Did I call?"

Assad shakes her head "No sir, I sent her a card."

Colonel Erdogan chuckles "Men ARE pigs."

Uncle Istvan shrugs and orders another drink " Well, I'm pretty much fecked then. What do you say we have something to eat? What would you recommend here Commisar?"

They all turn and look at Alwood

Orleton sat peacefully. Only a few lights remained on in the village, people went to bed early in the country. In Cyro the evening was only just starting...

OOC: I would have expected people to wake up to the blasts and gunfire that just occured.

The noise of explosions and gunfire had drawn the patrons of the pub out into the square. They all looked out in the distance. Then the lights of the Saxon appeared as it turned the corner.

"What the hell?" The Alconian Captain began..."is the Saxon doing?"

The reply was the chain gun opening fire on the group before the pub.

"Down, everyone down...out the back now..." orders were screamed. One of the sentries went down with the first few round of gunfire. The second went down on one knee and began to return fire. A sargent grabbed the captain and ran for the back door screaming orders.

"Out...everyone out...that 50 cal will tear this place appart...get out the back now..."

Alwood looked slightly alarmed at suddenly being the centre of attention, rather than the person sitting quietly in the corner, "Ah, well, they do as usual have a fairly good beef or crocodile steak, cooked however you want it. They also have a baked crocodile pie, which is quite nice, or if you want to get something fancier they've nearly always got venison on the menu."

The deer in Dyelli Beybi were farmed up by Timaru, the port that serviced the Arctic Territories, it helped to lower the price a bit, "There's also a Grilled Halal Chicken served with couscous... if you're a Muslim."

"They serve everything with a salad, and roast potatoes" she concluded, feeling like a waitress

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

(OOC: Dyelli Beybians are very deep sleepers :P Sorry, I was sleepy and didn't read the post properly)

The people of Dyelli Beybi had seen a civil war not so long ago, and Orleton most certainly had not been spaired. The patrons immediately hit the dirt, crawling towards the back door, not needing the Captain's encouragement.

In the village itself, people cowered under tables or beds, and prayed that the attack would be over soon.

In the police Station, Constable Hashashe was tidying up some paperwork out the back of the Police Station. The gunfire took him by surprise. For a split second he froze, then training kicked in. Those were military weapons being used. He grabbed the reciever for the radio on his desk, taking a moment to fiddle with the dials, "Laroque Coastal Facility, this is Orleton Police Station. Do you read me? Over."

It took a few moments to respond, apparently the man at the other end wasn't completely alert, "Orleton Station, this is Laroque Coastal Facility, Reding you loud and clear. Over"

"I'm hearing machine gun fire. Is this a military drill? Over." he also heard screams but he didn't mention that.

"Negative Orleton, no drills in place tonight. Over."

"It sounds close. Over" it sounded bloody close, in fact the radioman on the other end must be hearing it.

"You don't say..." he had heard it, "We're dispatching a Sahariana reccon group. They'll be with you in approximately 10 minutes. For now though, see what you can tell us about what's going on. Over."

"I'll get in contact when I find something. Over and out."

Hashashe stood up, walking over to his gun closet and unlocking it. Inside there was a SSA1801 assault rifle. He wasn't a particularly good shot, but having the weapon gave him some feeling of security. He made his way back to the door of the Police Station, opening it fractionally and peering out into the square...

They all nodded sagely and Uncle Istvan looks about "I'm fairly certain that some of us here are Muslim. Who's not drinking?" He frowns at Seargent Assad and then at Colonel Erdogan.

Erdogan wrinkles his nose at Uncle Istvan " I'm Zoroastrian, how could you forget that?"

Assad just looks sheepishly away and takes another sip of vodka.

Istvan looks suspicious "Hmmm, well where is the waiter, my drink is empty and I think we'll all have the steak, medium, with salad, and more drinks, for everyone."

More drinks arrived while the chef out the back was busy cooking. Alwood, who seemed to have suddenly decided she needed to balance her unhealthily high alcohol intake with healthy food, had ordered some kind of salad. She wasn't drunk, but the alcohol had loosened her tongue a bit, "Seems like you're all in deep and fullfilling relationships, but then again I can't exactly talk, working for the State tends to put a real dampener on those kinds of things."

It was as usual with Alwood, just a brief glimpse into a murky past full of sordid secrets and skeletons in the closet.

Uncle Istvan glanced at Alwood "I'll have time for a relationship when I'm retired, or dead. I personally think relationships are overdone, if you ask me. Women, you can't live with em, you can't live with em."

Seargent Assad chuckled " Well, have fun living by yourself when you retire. I can't imagine you doing anything for yourself, you wouldn't chew your food if we assigned someone to do it for you."

Uncle Istvan looked wounded as Admiral Connacht chimed in "To think you were once the most eligible bachelor in Ilek-Vaad, my how the mighty have fallen."

"I still am the most eligibale bachelor, I'm quite a catch I think." Istvan retorted defensively.

General Imro shrugged "I don't know Adan is still single, William Issem is too."

Admiral Connacht ooohs "Oh yes, William 'One-hundredman' , who wouldn't marry an Issem man."

General Imro laughs "I'd like to think I wouldn't."

Uncle Istvan shrugs " I don't know, those bedroom eyes............." he pauses and chugs at his beer.

Colonel Erdogan shakes his head "You shouldn't say thinks like like that just after saying that you can't live with women, Uncle Istvan."

"Oh sh*t you're right Mustapha, now I probably seem all fruity." Istvan laments.

"I wouldn't say 'fruity' either." General Imro adds in.

Admiral Connacht squeezes Istvan's arm "Oh come on now daddy's not gay, he's just confused, he just needs the right woman to set him straight.................so to speak, not that he's gay, not that there's anything wrong with that if he were."

They all roar with laughter at that, Uncle Istvan just drinks and looks a bit dejected.

The Benjian Sargent was laughing histerically as he watched the locals run from the chain gun fire.

As the police station door opened slightly, the light caught the Sargent's eye and he tapped on the shoulder of the man sitting next to him.

The man turned, looked at the door and swung up an RPG. A moment later the explosive round went flying into the front of the Police Building. The chain gun turned and followed suit, throwing 50 caliber rounds into the structure.

"All right, let's get moving, You two, go up to the church bell and wait with the stingers for anyone poking their nose in. You two take stations at the corners there to keep an eye out for anyone. The rest of you lot are assigned to the banking detail."

The Saxon turned in the square and backed up to the post office while three men began to smash open the door to the church.

Another six Benjians, all armed swarmed off the truch with a couple of heavy chains, some long rods, and a sledgehammer. The sound of men attempting to pull the ATMs out of place sounded across the square as the Saxon idled.

The Alconian Captain pushed out the back door behind the locals. "Fu*k, what the hell is going on. Mills...get your ass out to the encampment and find out what is going on out there."

He leaned against a wall trying to calm down a bit as he registered the situation. "That explosion looks like they took out the police station. Is there an armory in this town?" He asked in a sort of general speculation.

The front end of the police station was more or less demolished. Hashashe died in a hail of bullets, and would undoubtedly get full honours. The Laroque Coastal Facility had noted his dead radio, with some alarm, although there wasn't much to do at this stage, apart from to wait for the Sahariana to radio in.

Sahariana were still classified as 'experimental vehicles', although the military was begining to issue them to units that were more likely to see frontline action. Basically it was an open topped jeep fitted with a light air search radar and a chaingun, which could either be opperated manually by the gunner in the back seat, or automatically. It could not depress far enough to bow the driver or communication officer's head off, but it could hit some targets ahead of the vehicle. There were 8 of them thaty appeared on the scene, at about the time it would take to break the steel bars holding the ATM to the wall.

They fanned out around the village, moving to encircle, which wouldn't be hard, Orleton was a small place. They approached the village cautiosly, seemingly expecting to find enemy paratroopers hiding in the fields every step of the way. This was partly because of the spate of 111 calls suddenly coming out of the village. The villagers tended to exagerate, and this was being described as an invasion to the police call centre.

Denton (the only town of over 100,000 in the county) had dispatched it's AOS unit, and well as a few squad cars, while several local military bases had also been alerted, although only Laroque Coastal was in range to get anyone there quickly.

Inside the village, most of the locals had vanished, only one man had actually stuck near to the Captain, he was an older, spectacled man, probably in his fifties, with a rather unfashionable grey cardigan pulled over a black shirt, "No armoury, this is a peaceful village, but I do have an APS 95 at home."

A closer look at him revealed a dog collar... he was the parish priest. It was probably best not the ask why the old fellow had a Croatian Assault Rifle hanging about.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Being gay makes people so much harder to nudge in the right direction." Alwood grumbled, smiling at one of the waiters, who smiled back.

"You military men are odd, go into intelligence for a day and you'll find out just how important we girls are. Men will tell you anything as long as you're pretty and do a good job at looking weak and vulnerable."

The food arrived then, carried by a pair of moustachioed waiters, one of whom was affecting a French accent. The other hadn't bothered and was still sporting a lilting Dyellian accent, as he announced each dish as he passed it around, "Trust the local to be the odd one out." he quipped.

"Bugger off." Alwood replied, but with a smile.

"Right you are Miss."

He vanished, along with his more pretentious colleague.

They all tuck into their dinners and order more drinks.

Erdogan grins "I alwys find that a serious beating always works to nudge someone in the right direction."

Uncle Istvan nods "Or a pillowcase full of door-knobs."

General Imro nods "Very subtle. I understand that when the Cheka are looking for info they often invite their targets for drinks and then hide keys on their person attempting to iniate a sexual encounter?" He smiled at Alwood as he said that, ever so slightly.

Uncle Istvan chuckles "Sexual encounter? Then when you're all shagged out..........BAM!......pillow case full of door knobs!"

Alwood seemed completely unabashed, just offering a grin in response to Imro.

"Torture is illegal in Dyelli Beybi." she put, "We're civilised people... of course, if we were to do anything like that we'd use rubberised truncheons... and accidents do happen from time to time."

The Cheka was infamous for ignoring certain laws, such as the ones pertaining to torturing or shooting suspects, particulalry Tzarist sympathisers who had a habbit of going into Benjia House and never coming out again.

Uncle Istvan chuckles "I'm sure speeding is illegal too. We all know that nobody ever breaks the law."

He seemed to be implying that torture was rife.

"Anyhow, I've always prescribed to the 'kill anyone in your path' doctrine. I'm not going to waste time torturing anyone, if you happen to be in my way, well, then you must have to die, it's god's will I suppose."

Seargent Assad laughed "Wasn't Ghenghis Khan that said he was god's punishment to his enemies? "

Imro looked thoughtful "Maybe it was Attila the Hun?"

Uncle Istvan shook his head "No, it was Ghenghis Khan. Pope Gregory called Attila the Hun the 'Scourge of God.' "

Imro nodded "Yeah, you're probably right."

Well likely one of the Sahariana was now approaching the ruins of the JDF encampment. It was fairly obvious from the small burning fires in feild cans that were now laying about. Along with two rows of tents and the various bodies laying about the ground, mowed down by chain-gun fire. There was a large flat shape of an Alconian APC laying turtle. And a tank half way off the

Of course knowning the Deyllians they might have missed all of that. The sentry laying in a dark pool of blood in the middle of the lane next to the feild would have alerted them.

That or a yell of "Haloo...you in the jeeps...we have a white flag of truce here don't shoot..." The white flag poked up from behind a low stone wall. Well it was a bit of some white canvas on the end of a stick at least.

Behind the low wall lay the few surviving Alconian Marines and a few non-marauding Benjians who all were laying flat across with their weapons ready. They weren't quite sure who or what had attacked them. But it didn't appear the Deyllians were the culprits either.

-------
The Marine captain looked at the parish preist. "Well that actually is a releif father. I was worried they might make for the local armory to try and get hold of some more firepower. May I request we use your home at a temporary response center? I have a bad feeling that whoever these bastards are, they just took out my platoon..."

OOC: Are the Sahariana approaching with lights on?"

The massive engine of the truck pulled the two ATMs from the wall and out into the square. "Alright, lets get these things loaded into trunk and we'll be on our way to a quiet port in Rouge Jiggady boys...."

(OOC: The Sahariana are high tech. They have Night Vision Gear, and aren't expecting to meet oncoming civilian traffic, so would not have their headlights on.)

Three of the vehicles were in proximity to the wrecked JDF camp, one seemed to be the command vehicle, "Come out, with your hands on your heads, and make your way slowly towards the vehicle." someone from onboard yelled, "This is a recconaisance Platoon for the 6th Republican Army. Advance and be recognised."

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"Unless I'm much mistaken." the Priest replied, "They're breaking into my church."

"The Presbytery is just out back across the garden, if we follow the neighbours fence, we can get to the back window without being noticed, but we'd need to smash it to get inside, it's got a catch on it so can't be opened too wide. They might hear the noise, and they'd probably see us if we tried to get in through the front door. There is another door round the side, but thats easily visible from the vestry." he at least sounded like he knew what he was doing.

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Back in Cyro

Alwood looked askance at the Supreme Republican Commander, "Kill everyone? How boring. What if they have information you need? What if your enemy doesn't like to come out and fight you face to face? That's when you need Intelligence."

In that sentence 'Intelligence' seemed to be a synonym for 'Zara Alwood', "And I wouldn't say your killing people was God's will at all, I'd tend to say it was your will."

It was unclear if that was a compliment, an insult or the start of a theological discussion, she was smiling though, which meant she probably wasn't trying to be rude.

The white flag dropped down and a single figure came walking out from behind the wall. "Corporal Tish, Alpha Bravo Platoon, Company A, 16th Mechinized Infantry Battallion of the JDF." He seemed to be trying to watch all three vehicles at once, and was stubling over bodies "We seem to have taken a severe thrashing by someone...as you can see..."

*****
The Captain nodded, "I think we can avoid the sound of breaking glass...can't we sargent?" He looked into the darkness as a large figure. "And why in the hell would they break into...oh, setting up an observation post."

*****
One of the Benjians ran back down from the roof of the church. "Sarge...we need the night vision goggles. Something is moving outside of town..."

The goggles were thrown to the youth as the Sargent watched the first ATM go sliding up onto the bed of the Saxon.

"OK. That's one of you." it was impossible to make out how the Officer looked in the dark, but from his voice, he did not sound pleased, "put your hands where we can see them, and make your way slowly towards the vehicle, the same goes for anyone else behind that wall."

This latest turn of events had the radio humming again as the radioman chattered with base, Dyelli Beybi was a country obsessed with the posibility of invasion. Units were being mobilised towards the village from all surrounding bases.

A column of tank destroyers, bedecked in cammo-netting and folliage moved close enough to be heard by the Vaadian base, although in the best Dyellian tradition, nobody bothered to inform them what was going on.

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"What the old tar and brown paper trick?" the Priest inquired, "Here, follow me."

The Presbytery was, much as described, it was a smallish house, backing straight onto a neighbours fence. This was just over a metre tall, and made of brick, allowing a fair degree of cover on approaching the rear of the house, although, apart from the wall, all other approaches were quite open, he tossed the Captain a set of keys, "Just crawl along there, you can't miss it. I'm too old for these antics." he pointed out the wall, but stayed well in the shadow of a neighbouring house, "The gun is in a locked dispay cupboard in the sitting room, you'll enter through the kitchen, it's the door straight ahead. The bolt and ammunition are in a safe under the kitchen sink. Those keys I gave you should open both."

The Corporal sighed. "If you can't see them on the top of my head then where would you bloodly like them. Listen I am not letting my boys and girls pop up their heads until I see some identification from you"

------
The Sargent chuckled, "Works but then we don't have any tar or brown paper now do we. But we do have one of these..." The long blade of an Alconian sword-bayonnet glinted in the moon light.

A moment later the Sargent had stepped up to the window, broken the latch and was inside. He opened the kitchen door.

Another Alconian looked about around and made a sound like a dove.
The Captain and the other Alconians ran for the door. Someone led the priest along by the arm.

The group stood quietly in the kitchen, placing items over the windows. One man was looking about for something in the drawers, while everyone gathered around their Captain.

"Alright, whoever these bastards are we are going to do all we can to stop, detain, and kill these....sorry father...gentlemen of misfortune."

-------------
The Benjian returned to the Saxon with bad news. "Lots of equipment sir...surrounding the town."

"Sh*t...when the hell the f***ing Deyllians become so orginized." He pondered for a moment.

"You two go do a couple of smash and grabs...get some people into the church. Bathus get your ass over there and wire a few mines inside...so after we close the door...anyone who opens it will let those buggers go boom."

A few moments later, armed men began to smash into the houses near the square (however luckly not towards the church side) to find people and haul them at gunpoint into the church.

Alwood looked askance at the Supreme Republican Commander, "Kill everyone? How boring. What if they have information you need? What if your enemy doesn't like to come out and fight you face to face? That's when you need Intelligence."

In that sentence 'Intelligence' seemed to be a synonym for 'Zara Alwood', "And I wouldn't say your killing people was God's will at all, I'd tend to say it was your will."

It was unclear if that was a compliment, an insult or the start of a theological discussion, she was smiling though, which meant she probably wasn't trying to be rude.


Uncle Istvan grinned "Only the manner in which you kill may be boring, you can spice it various ways. There are multitudes of ways to make killing enjoyable."

General Imro grinned "I believe it was William 'The Silent' who said ' Good soldiers detest killing , but will do so when necessary, a man that enjoys killing is nothing short of a butcher."

Uncle Istvan shrugged "Pish, I'm neither. I'm a Red Jaguar, I'm my own own species of soldier-butcher. God's will, my will, I don't see the difference. No matter who decides what time the end is the still end up headed for the hereafter."

He grined and ordered more drinks as they finished up their meals.

Alwood looked quizzical, "You Vaadians boast about the strangest things."

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret. The reason Dyelli Beybi has a massive stockpile of military vehicles, why we train tirelessly and dig fortifications, isn't because we want to fight a war... it's so we never need to." she seemed to find this amusing, "Klatch is full of crazed dictators and mad Emperors, most of whom see a Socialist Democracy as highly suspicious. The army is there so that they leave us alone and we can focus on getting rich."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

One Dyellian, who seemed to be the 2iC looked about to order the gunner to open fire, but his Commanding Officer held up a restraining hand, "Fair enough I suppose, Parker, cover me."

He stepped out of the jeep and 'advanced to be recognised'. He was in fact a fairly typical looking Dyellian, slightly built and quite short, he probably had dark eyes behind the IRV goggles. He wore the usual somewhat Germanic looking uniform, in a dull-green camouflage pattern this time, "Tenente Powell, 1st Fucillieri Reggiment of the 6th Republican Army." he introduced himself, "We're manning a Coastal Battery some miles down the road and are responding to a distress call from the Police Station in the village."

Dyelli Beybi had changed it's military ranks... again... it was bound to cause confusion for many months to come. Meanwhile another unit had arrived on the scene, some 500 metres South of the Village an Infantry Platoon had arrived and was busily disembarking from IFVs. In fact, the countryside was crawling with units from the 6th Republican Army, who seemed to be under the impression they were repelling an invasion.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The priest was a bit flustered, he hadn't expected to be in his kitchen, he'd really just wanted to sit out on this one. The Alconians had probably noticed his kitchens held photos of him looking a little younger, sitting in the turret of a T-90, "I was a Major with the NSWP Armoured Corp during the Revolution." he explained.

That at least went some of the way to explaining how he'd managed to get a liscence for an Automatic weapon - something that was near to impossible to get.

Uncle Istvan hmmmmms "You boast about using sex to get secrets...........I find that slightly strange."

Colonel Erdogan shrugs "It's not the number of armaments you have but their quality, same thing with your soldiers, massive stockpiles of slowly rusting vehicles isn't scary to anyone but a mechanic."

"Unless it's a mechanic that likes a challenge?" Assad interjects.

Uncle Istvan chuckles " Well thn, what's for dessert?"

"I didn't boast about that, I just implied it might be useful from time to time." Alwood shrugged, as if to say the matter was of little consequence, "I use whatever talents I have to serve the State."

"Incorrect." she concluded, on the second point, Erdogan's comment on quality didn't seem to have been considered for more than a couple of moments before being dismissed, "Quantity has a quality of it's own."

She was quoting Stalin, "Dessert menu, right hey you!"

She called to one of the moustache toting waiters, she'd be damned if she acted as menu again, "Can you bring us a dessert menu?"

"Of course Commisaar." the waiter vanished, reappearing again a few moments later to hand out leather bound menus, "I will return when you have had time to decide."

He made himself scarce again. The menu was distinctly Dyellian. It seemed to feature a lot of steamed puddings or crumbles (not what one would expect in a tropical climate), rhubarb and gooseberry seemed to feature prominently, while chocolate was present only in the 'black forest gateaux' and the chocolate icecream (there was icecream in all the usual flavours, apparently someone had noticed it was bloody hot in Cyro). Chocolate was really a D'Reg thing...

OOC: I honestly don't recall Stalin ever saying 'Dessert menu, right hey you!' ;)

IC:

The Red Jaguar and assorted hangerson looked over the dessert menu with seeming contempt, being used to Tolteca three-milk cake and fruit ices and fruit cream pies and assorted fresh fruits, the heavy Dyellian items seemed, offputting.

Uncle Istvan grimaced "Well, I think we can skip dessert and just have another round of drinks." He motioned threateningly to the bartender for more drinks.

Uncle Istvan then turned to Alwood "So, what about strip-clubs?"

Alwood shrugged, "Not really part of the culture in this part of the world. You could probably find some if you wanted to fly to the D.B.A.T, or else you could always look in the yellow pages, there's probably one to entertain the Vrakians and Alconians."

She didn't mention this might well include walruses... actually, come to think of it, that idea wasn't half bad...

"Shall I look one up for you?" she asked, all traces of bad attitude evapourating.

The bartender arrived with more drinks, the same as the previous orders. It coincided with the arrival of a small band of Commisaars and Met Officers, who made themselves at home at the far end of the establishment. The bar staff seemed reluctant to say no to the Cheka.

OOC: You think a culture will well armed women are going to be going much to strip clubs...

OOC: One can always hope.

In Anchorage, far to the south, the New Shiron Royal Guard Signals Intelligence Center was suddenly becoming a busier place.

Lieutenant Luanne Cantu listened on her headphones and frowned. The more she heard the deeper the frown became and finally she took of her headphones and picked up her phone.

"General, we have some odd intercepts coming out of Dyelli Byebi today."

On the other end of the line, Brigadier General Robert Boyer, commander of the center, listened as his best analyst reported something disturbing. Apparently the Klatch Guard was in some kind of armed confrontation with the Dyelli Byebi Army and probably the Cheka as well.

He quickly walked over to Luanne's station and picked up the headphones. Most of the chatter was typical march and manuever chatter, but it seemed tense.

"What the hell are they up to up there?" He asked.

"I am not sure general but I think some JDF troops got killed."

"Who killed them?"

"Umm, that isn't very clear at the moment. All we have is the few minutes of intercepts the satellite picked up on this pass. We can send a high altitude drone over there, but it will take a few hours to get one in position."

General Boyer thought about that. While it technically would violate Dyelli Byebi airspace, the drone, only about the size of a hang glider, and with the radar signature of a honey bee would probably be safe enough. At 80,000 feet, and with its low observability camoflouge, it probably would never even be noticed. (occ, based on the Darkstar drones from Tom Clancy's Bear and the Dragon)

"Ok, get one over there. Contact the RAF and tell them we need a mission. If they give you any shit, direct them to me."

Alwood shrugged, "Not really part of the culture in this part of the world. You could probably find some if you wanted to fly to the D.B.A.T, or else you could always look in the yellow pages, there's probably one to entertain the Vrakians and Alconians."

She didn't mention this might well include walruses... actually, come to think of it, that idea wasn't half bad...

"Shall I look one up for you?" she asked, all traces of bad attitude evapourating.

The bartender arrived with more drinks, the same as the previous orders. It coincided with the arrival of a small band of Commisaars and Met Officers, who made themselves at home at the far end of the establishment. The bar staff seemed reluctant to say no to the Cheka.


Uncle Istvan shrugged and looked around "I'm not sure, I don't know what to expect around here. From what I've seen I can't even imagine what the inside of a Dyellian strip club would look like, or what the women would look like for that matter? Or the music..........I simply can't fathom it."

General Imro shrugged " Well, there goes your spirit of adventure, old man."

Uncle Istvan chuckled "Another round or two of drinks and we'll take a vote on where Alwood should chaperone us to next." He nods towards the incoming "Buy those spies some drinks as well, show them we Vaadians aren't as unfriendly as all the advertising."

(OOC: Oops, sorry I didn't reply, I completely missed the arrival of the last two posts :P I'll make an effort to skip)

"Well you know your guess is probably as good as mine." Alwood confessed, "Like I said, strip clubs aren't really a Dyellian thing. Under the Tzar, the population was either too poor, or had a bounty of young slaves, and these days the feminist movement is well... very strong."

"I'd imagine the girls would look a lot like me, after all, we all look alike, us foreign devils, and if you're going to drop the 'Commisaar', you might as well just call me Zara."

The next comment, caused her to twist around and give the new mixed group of Cheka and regular police officers a serious studying, "No... they're not the spying sort, they're hanging out with the Met, they're probably from four, they're more like detectives."

There were five in the other group, three Cheka agents, and a couple of officers from the Metropolitan Police, wearing blue. It was a fairly male dominated group, one of the pair from the Met was a woman, and seemed attached to one of the Cheka officers. The arrival of the Republican Commander's round of drinks at the table, saw one of the Cheka officers get up and make his way over to the other table, "My friends and I just wanted to extend our gratitude, the next round is on us Comrades." he pronounced. The man had one of the thickest Dyellian accents imaginable.

"Might I be inquiring where you folks are from, only you don't really look like you're from these parts." The Officer either hadn't been watching the news, or was incapable of recognising the Vaadians without armour.

He definantely did recognise Alwood though, he kept darting sideways glances at her. Anyone might think he looked a little nervous of her...

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Sending a UAV into Dyelli Beybian terrirtory was always a big mistake. Not because they might spot it. The Dyellians were highly alert, and had highly sophisticated radar, yet even so, their defences were penetrable. The main problem would arise if they happened to come along with an EW device. Dyelli Beybi was very keen on EW. They had EW planes, pure EW ships, even EW tanks (although the ground based systems couldn't do much damage to targets above 16,000 feet.)

Uncle Istvan smiled smiled at the officer "We're from Ilek-Vaad, we're here looking at tanks and and meeting important political dignataries and such. There's no need to buy us drinks, we're not paying for them anyway, we've taken this commissar hostage" he motions to Alwood " and are forcing her to but us all the food and drinks we like, or we'll do horrible, horrible things to her."

Seargent Assad repeats "Horrible, like making her listen to Uncle Istvan's inane banter."

"Well that's happening any way." Colonel Erdogan sniffs

Uncle Istvan shakes his head "Anyhow, you're all welcome for the drinks and we were just decideing where to go after this, any ideas?" He asks the officer

"Well..." the Commisaar scratched his head, "There's really only two things you can do in a Cyro evening. You can get roaringly drunk, or you can get roaringly drunk and go dancing... although if you want to do that I'd definantely coax your hostage out of her uniform and into something she won't be recognised in."

Alwood shot the other Commisaar a threatening look. He shut up immediately, "Of course, Cheka uniforms can intimidate some people." she put in smoothly.

Uncle Istvan smiled and nodded "I've never been much for dancing. I always thought that dancing was a past time for school girls and mildly retarded people."

He paused and smiled "So, we'll have to get roaringly drunk then. Who's in?"

The rest of the party looked half-hearted about the idea, they were all very tired from the long trip, except for General Imro.

Imro smiled " I wouldn't mind. I would agree that it is probably the best thing to do around here."

"You can count me in." Alwood volunteered, she was probably a borderline alcoholic, "Never say no to a drink when the State is paying."

"Oh well." the unnamed Cheka officer seemed to have regained his composure, "I take it you Vaadians are more of the sitting aroud sort of people, well unfortunately we've got work tomorrow."

He indicated the band at his other table, "Filing reports on the case and all that."

"What case was this?" Alwood asked.

"You know the one with the kid that went missing over Northcote way, nasty business that, obviously I can't tell you the details before it goes to court."

"Obviously." she replied, sounding a little dissapointed nonetheless.

Uncle Istvan frowned at Alwood "You're not going to 'persuade' him to tell you all about it? After bragging about how good your were at it? "

General Imro chuckled and changed the subject "Well, where do we go to drink then, here, or did you have another place in mind Inspector?"

"Yeah and you'll probably have to call a car for the rest of these lightweights that aren't going with us." Istvan turned and glared at everyone else.

Seargent Assad snorted " I'm sorry if I'm a bit tired after having been up at four am to make sure that your uniform was clean and that your special breakfast was ready, your highness."

Istvan chuckled "Okay, you're excused. The rest of you are pathetic, whiny, losers."

Admiral Connacht raised her glass "That's exactly what I was going to have put on my tombstone."

Uncle Istvan smiled " I thought you Longeavi types didn't need tombstones. Anyhow, what's the plan then?"

"No, I don't think I really have the time right now." Alwood replied to Istvan. The other Commisaar looked quite alarmed.

"We could move somewhere else, I'll leave that over to you two, I picked this place because it's fairly secure... and because it's State owned. To be honest I'm not really certain what to do with you, most foreign dignitaries are quite different... that is they wear a suit and are quite happy to sit in the hotel bar drinking claret until 10 o'clock, by which stage they're ready for bed."

She had wandered off topic, and shook her head, "Err where was I, yeah taxis, we'll do one better than that and bring over a Government limousine, can't have you people using public transport."

"State owned? I thought this beer tasted funny? So what's in it? Sodium pentathol? Will I start telling all of my deep dark secrets in a moment?" Uncle Istvan looked alrmed too, but it was probably mock alarm.

Imro ignored Uncle Istvan " Well, where would you normally want to go if you had time and we weren't around?"

Admiral Connacht sipped at her wine and rubbed Unlcle Istvan's arm "Oh, don't get so worked up, absolutely everybody knows all the horrible things you've done."

Uncle Istvan chuckled "But no one knows the horrible things that I want to do."

The Admiral moves closer to Istvan "Well, then just whisper it to me........"

"Just be glad that you're not at one of the seedier joints, then you might end up with half a pint of methylated spirits, and that sends you blind." she sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

Alwood wasn't really certain about the Admiral and Imro, she couldn't remember if she'd called him 'daddy' earlier, or if that had been someone else, or if she was just imagining things, "Well these days, I'd usually just hang around at home, although back six months I'd have probably got trashed and then hit a night club."

She shrugged, cutting off when it looked like Istvan was about to start whispering in the Admiral's ear.

Uncle Istvan whispered something into the Admiral's ear , she paused and sipped at her wine "That's not so bad, I do that all the time."

Uncle Istvan chuckled " And you don't want to keep drinking? How can you live with yourself doing that sober?"

She smiled and patted his leg " I've had lots of practice living with me, daddy."

Imro cleared his throat "What time is it anyway? We should really where to go next."

Uncle Istvan chuckled again and smiled at Alwood "Your place or a night club?"

Imro smiled "Alwood's place isn't bad, a bit hard to get out of."

The other Cheka officer was just slinking back towards his table, when Alwood caught sight of him, "You're not going anywhere."

He stopped, "Well you know, it looks like you and the foreign digintaries are going out further, and I need an early night."

"Rubbish." she eyed him up and down, "You're a DS, if memory serves me right it will be the DI who writes all the major reports, you're not escaping my company that easily."

"Wouldn't dream of it." he gave her a broad grin.

"Err time?" she checked her watch, "About midnight, we're still early... well you said you weren't the dancing type, so that probably puts the night clubs right out of the picture."

Also they weren't exactly secure, unless she cleaned the people out, in which case it would defeat the point, "So I guess we could go back to my flat." she sounded a little unsure about having important foreign dignitaries in her flat, it was nearly certainly against regulations...

Colonel Erdogan grinned "I like dance clubs."

Uncle Istvan chuckled "Punching out dancing geeks dosen't count."

Admiral Connacht laughed "What about dancing greeks!?"

Colonel Erdogan shrugged "Okay then, I like the sound of the Investigators place too." Erdogan smiled at Alwood, with his stainless steel, shark like teeth, it was unnerving to say the least.

Seargent Assad sat up "Oooh, Mustapha likes you!"

They all laughed , except Erdogan, who looked indignant and finished his sherry.

Alwood ignored the comment, "Right, who's coming and who's not?"

She waited for a response before phoning through to whoever wa supplying transport to send over some unmarked red 4x4s to pick up those who wanted an early night. The 4x4s arived with several suspiciously military looking people in plain clothes who were clearly Government bodyguards.

Another identical vehicle was supplied for those heading back to the Commisaar's flat. She was now dragging the hapless DS in her wake, he was clearly unhappy and a little unclear as to why he was following the Senior Commisaar around.

Uncle Istvan stood and gathered his equipment, producing a large calibre handgun, pointing it athis 'friends'.

"Right then , who's not going?"

There was a moment of silence before Erdogan spoke "Am I to understand that anyhone that doesen't want to go, you are going to shoot?"

Istvan nodded "Right. It's obviously in self defence. No court would convict me."

Admiral Connacht smiled broadly "You do realize that there is no clip in your gun?"

Istvan didn't even look at it "Okay them whoever isn't going gets a pistol whipping at least, until I can find the clip."

Seargent Assad finished her drink "Oh put it away, everbodies going, you big baby."

Istvan smiled "Well so long as I made my point. This is one of those impulsive playful memories you'll cherish when I'm retired."

Admiral Connacht stood and slipped her arm around Istvan and everyone else got up and gethered their equipment. Uncle Istvan motioned with his gunto Alwood "Lead the way Inspector!"

Alwood still wasn't exactly certain how she'd agreed to use her flat as a drinking hole for the Vaadians, but wasn't about to protest. It was highly unlikely anyone would shoot at them up there.

"If you throw up anywhere you're dead." she snarled at the junior Commisaar (who seemed to have been included purely as somebody to bully).

"I'm not planning to get completely toasted, thanks." he repied, inwardly idly wondering if this late night adventure would be of any benefit to him at all.

The porter at the building didn't comment, all sorts of strange people turned up with the Commisaar, it wasn't too unusual. After passing him, the whole band were passed through the outer defences of Alwood's petty Kingdom, before finally gaining entry to her somewhat unremarkabl flat (although the weapons were a little strange, and there were very few other signs of any personality, if one were to first visit here they might assume the girl didn't have one).

She immediately sidled over to the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a 'larger than reccomended' glass of absinthe, before turning back to the others, "So what do you lot want then?"

"I'm just grand the way I am." the other Commisaar replied, seemingly looking for an exit.

The Jaguar and the Admiral piled in, and somethin g amazing happened. Both Uncle Istvan and Seargent Assad stood stock still, wide eyed, looking over the apartment for several minutes, absolutely silent, everyone Imro, Erdogan and Admiral Connacht all watched them.

Then Uncle Istvan and Seargent Assad burst into hysterical laughter, collapsing after a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter, so much so that the collapsed on the floor, unable to respond to any queries for several minutes. Erdogan merely frowned.

After several long minutes Seargent Assad was finally able to answer through laughs and gasps with tears in her eyes "It's..........it's.........this...........is just like............Erdogan's quarters!"

This set off Uncle Istvan laughing again , Erdogan sniffed disdainfully.

"It is not just like my quarters. Inspector Alwood has different guns."

This didn't help the matter and simply prolonged the laughing.

Alwood didn't seem to like the comparison, "They're just things I found lying around." she grumbled, "It's not like I like them or anything... anyway I needed somewhere to put them, and this place isn't big enough for any other gun lockers."

"You have more of these out the back? I hope you've got a licence." the other Commisaar seemed to think the whole display was rather suspicious.

"Shut up... Class E now you come to mention it."

"Ooh, unrestricted." it didn't seem to have eased his concerns about Alwood, "Did Felix set that up for you?"

"In the early days it was a necessity." she gave him a withering glare, "I don't remember seeing you getting your hands dirty."

"That's because I didn't." the DS replied crisply.

This seemed to be an end to the argument, "Right, ah, who wants a drink, there's... absinthe?" Alwood was smiling again, if you'd walked in then, you would never have guessed she'd been arguing with the other Commisaar a moment before.

OOC: Harvey Birdman:What do you mean you're resigning? Avenger:CAW!

IC:

Uncle Istvan and Seargent Assad finally regained their composure and found their seats.

"Absinthe? With or without copper oxide? Don't you have something with a better flavour, like turpentine?" Uncle Istvan quipped.

Admiral Connacht sat and smiled "Absinthe sounds just fine." she purred as she looked over the Junior Commisar.

Imro smiled "Scotch is fine , again."

Erdogan looked over the weaponry attached to the walls "I take my weapons from dead enemies. I've never had Absinthe."

Uncle Istvan nodded "Scotch here too, and vodka for Seargent Assad."

"We do have some ammonia floor cleaner?" she suggested, then filled glasses for everyone, dropping down behind the Kitchen bench to rummage around for Vodka. It looked like the Scotch hadn't been touched since last time, but the Absinthe bottle was quite considerably lower...

"You could say I took them off dead enemies, I didn't kill all of them myself." the weapons seemed to have a certain tendency towards the Eastern European variety, "The Cheka at the time weren't issued rifles, we just got handguns, there weren't enough rifles to go around, but that wasn't to say that having a proper gun didn't greatly increase one's life expectancy."

It took a couple of runs to move all the drinks from the kitchen to the coffee table, then Alwood moved the bottles as well, from the amount of absinthe she drank it would probably avoid quite a lot of walking on her part, "I poured you an absinthe Colonel, it's practically the National drink, although a lot of people will tell you it tastes like the stuff they use in hospital wards to clean the benches."

"It does." the currently unnamed other Commisaar remarked darkly, "It's the most damned unpleasant alcohol on the market, but at least you can't taste it for long."

They all thanked Alwood for the drinks. Admiral Connacht looked at the glass of absinthe "What, no soppon to melt the sugar into it?"

Erdogan took his and just downed it, looking over the firearms. "Ah, all my souvenirs are from enemies I've killed myself. I often fight without my gun, to make things even for the enemy."

Uncle Istvan sipped at his scotch and looked around "Not a bad place at all, spacious. Where is the torture chamber? Basement?"

Imro smiled "I guessed the torture chamber was in the bedroom."

Istvan nodded "Just like Erdogan's bedroom."

"You want to burn some of the alcohol off? but that defeats the purpose." Alwood was grinning.

Despite the protest she got up and retrieved a bowl of sugar cubes and a couple of metal skewers. She spent a couple of moments balancing the cube on the skewers above the Admirals glass. She then pulled out a lighter than she'd secreted somewhere about her person. It was a fairly non descript piece, black enameled with some kind of white design hidden under her hand.

The other Commisaar didn't miss a trick, "Something else you found lying around?"

"Yep." Alwood wasn't taking the bait... whatever it was.

"You're either mad or suicidal... or both." the other Commisaar concluded.

She pocketed the lighter again, after letting the cube catch fire and begin to melt, "Well Colonel." she replied, ignoring the other Dyellian for now, "I'm not exactly a very big or strong person, I need all the advantages I can get. I don't have any real training either, I'm just a police officer."

"Rubbish you're a spook. I'm a police officer."

"Some people would beg to differ, we wear the same uniform... Anyway if I was involved in torture, which I'm not..."

In the background the other Commisaar was mouthing something that looked suspiciously like 'bullsh*t', "... I'd hardly set up any facilities at home... they'd keep me awake at night."

The Admiral raised her eyebrows as Alwood infused the ansinthe with the sugar

"I just don't see how you can drink it straight up, you might as well mix rubbing alcohol with pine-sol and drink that. It'd have the same flavour and even more alcohol!"

Imro listened to the banter between the Commissars "I was led to believe that all the Cheka were suicidal, suicidal fanatics. Which raises a whole other set of questions."

Colonel Erdogan frowned "What is the difference between a police officer and a spook? We don't have either in the Free Republic."

"I'm sure it wouldn't." it sounded like Alwood was considering drinking 'rubbing alcohol with pine-sol'.

"Only in her Department." the second Commisaar continued, "I'm in CSD-4, we just back up CID in dealing with Serious Crime. Four is just a detective agency."

"And I'm from One." Alwood put in, "We're more or less glorified Diplomats."

"But you used to be in Five."

"Yes thank you, I was getting there... Five are the genuine spys.... hang on... are you trying to say that Ilek-Vaad has no Intelligence service?" from the way she spoke, she seemed to find this the most outrageous thing that she'd ever heard.

[OOC: Within minutes of the conversation, hundreds of half trained Cheka agents sporting very bad Vaadian accents, along with huge false moustaches and trenchcoats (which they firmly believed to be good disguises) arrived in Ilek-Vaad. A country most couldn't even spell. Obviously, if the Vaadians have no intelligence service we can send any old rubbish to spy on them.]

I'm sorry, it was just irresistable :P

"Yes thank you, I was getting there... Five are the genuine spys.... hang on... are you trying to say that Ilek-Vaad has no Intelligence service?" from the way she spoke, she seemed to find this the most outrageous thing that she'd ever heard.

There was silence for a minute as Colonel Erdogan looked back over at Uncle Istvan who then looked around.

"Not that I know of?" he said with an impish smile.

Seargent Assad nodded "Every citizen of the Free Republic is a member of the Velite Guard, they take care of law enforcement and numerous other jobs, but no, there is NO intelligence service in the Free Republic."

She said that almost as if she were saying 'there is no giant squid in the bathroom' when in fact.......there is.

Admiral Connacht laughed "The Republic casts a long shadow, and the shadows have eyes."

They all laughed at that.

Of course the Guardians of the Black Flag of the Republic, the official security force for government buildings and other sensitive areas also had a secret branch , the Shadows of the Republic. The Shadows were much more secret than the Cheka, and their very existance was not common knowledge in Ilek-Vaad and was at best a rumour to even most military officers.

"Oh right." the still unanmed Commisaar didn't seem phased, "So it's a bit like me saying Seven is just a conspiracy theory, or the GD aren't real... although I dare say the good Commisaar Alwood knows a bit more about the GD than she's letting on."

Nobody had mentioned a GD before, "Anyway, he continued, so you lot have no trained detectives? I imagine that would make it somewhat hard to prove criminal intent, and what happens if there's a riot or demonstration, do you just round up some of the rest of the public and tell them to keep an eye on it?"

Alwood had seated herself on the carpet with her legs pulled under herself. She seemed quite happy to let the other Commisaar carry on the conversation while she quietly drank herself into oblivion... again, "You want a refill Colonel?" she offered Erdogan the bottle of absinthe, he seemed to be the only other one who'd finished his glass.

Erdogan nodded, as he suspiciously eyed the inquisitive Commissar that had joined them, and not in a good way.

Seargent Assad smiled " There are two branches of the Velite Guard the Active and the Reserve. The Active Guard take on responsibilities of police, civil servants , mail delivery port authority and customs and any other civil service jobs.

Riots are rare, first because it is perfectly legal to gather in non-violent protest in the Free Republic anywhere at any time, on public property. Active Velite Guard that find themselves in trouble can rely on Reserve Guards to grab their guns and long-coats and come running, Reserve Velite Guard take their position very seriously and will even make arrests when Active Guard aren't around. After their one year mandatory training, they can sign on for Active stints of three, six, nine, or twelve years, or go into the Reserve and receive two months of additional training every other year.

Velite payscales are mostly higher than private sector jobs, Velite prosecutors make roughly the same as private lawyers, so a career in the Velite Guard is a fair choice that many Vaadians make. Of course if things get too out of hand, the Velite General can always request Retaliatory Guard backup."

Uncle Istvan chuckled "So remember when you visit Ilek-Vaad, it feels like everyone is watching you, because they are!"

Alwood filled up Erdogan's glass, then settled back to the more serious business of getting herself drunk.

The other Commisaar who's name was actually James Wilson, was thinking she was probably sitting on the floor to keep closer to the bottle. He had a psychology degree, which helped a fair bit with his line of work. Today though, it was leading him to draw some interesting conclusions regarding Commisaar Alwood, "Oh right, so you do have detectives, well that's a relief then, Dyelli Beybi has main Police Detective branches, the Central Intelligence Division, or CID and CSD-4, a branch of the Cheka, we tend to deal with the more serious crimes and those which seem to have some kind of political motive."

He ignored Erdogan, he looked like the kind of big thug the Met regularly had to pull out of bars. He probably wanted a fight, well he wouldn't find one with Commisaar Wilson. At least Alwood was still sober enough to be playing the good hostess, she was still watching to make sure nobody else needed a refill... although she was going through the absinthe worryingly fast.

Erdogan kept drinking and kept a close eye on Commissar Wilson, his inquisitiveness marked him as 'dangerous' , at least in Erdogan's mind. If Uncle Istvan or anyone else got too drunk and revealed something sensitive, he was prepared to eliminate anyone who had heard and was paying attention. He had done it before.

Uncle Istvan finished his scotch "You have an over abundance of 'investigators' it seems? So who's the paranoid one? Derzhinsky?"

Admiral Connacht kept drinking the absinthe as well eyeing up Commissar Wilson, although in a different way than Erdogan "Yeah, and what's with the hostility to elfs?"

General Imro sipped at his scotch and smiled at Alwood.

Wilson gave a short laugh, "You try to exist as a Democracy in Klatch and you'd be paranoid too. When the rebellion that overthrew the Tzar took place there was more than a little tacet support for the Tzar."

He paused, "We had our Privy Councillor expelled by the Alconians, despite the fact that they had no legal rights to do so. This seemed to be mostly on the grounds that he had joined the Socialist cause. We also had invasion forces from both Fasta Benj and Jiggady."

"The Benjian Army dropped nuclear weapons on us, and we were told to 'stop fighting' them and then to disarm on the grounds that we'd attacked the Drakonian Imperium... despite the fact that we were rebelling against the Government that had done that." he shrugged, "We've had to be cunning and paranoid to survive, there's a lot of States out there that would feel a lot more comfortable with a return to Monarchy in the South."

"As for the elves, well I actually don't know the answer to that one, I'm fairly certain there's some kind of coverup, but the official line is that there's a war that's been going on for a thousand years it's become more or less impossible to stop." he shrugged, it was fairly clear he wasn't one of the Cheka's inner circle. It was in fact quite true to describe him as a detective, a good one, which was why he wore a Cheka uniform, "I'm not some blind patriot who'll say it's obviously the elves fault, it's very very hard to sort fact from fiction in the elf case. There seems to be no reliable evidence, which is odd because just about every other facet of Dyellian life has been meticulously recorded by the Monasteries since they set up, why would they leave out something as major as perpetual war in the East, while remembering to record how many head of oxen were owned by the Carabis estate in 1180?"

Alwood was... or had been, but she wasn't letting on, she stayed silent throughout, although when she noticed Imro smiling, became suddenly self conscious, "What is it? I haven't spilled anything have I?"

It sounded like she thought Imro would only be smiling if something unfortunate had happened to her.

Uncle Istvan chuckled at Commissar Wilson. "Well, I can identify with that. We've been attacked or isolated by every non-democratic state in Haven, and I assume Klatchain dictators will do the same. But if you become paranoid and repressive of your own people, well , the they non-democratic forces you've resisted have won, haven't they?"

Admiral Connacht sipped at her absinthe "Well, I don't like elfs either."

Uncle Istvan mused "I mean, well, you're fighting against monarchist foes to keep them from repressing the People, yet to combat that you're setting up a security apparatus to repress the People. It's the same thing, just being run by different peole with different titles. Instead of fearing the Czar's secret police now the People fear the Cheka. I don't see what has changed necessarily , except the titles and uniforms.

I think it's far more constructive to give the people a real sense of unity and belonging, like the Velite Guard, where everyone comes together and knows and respects each other because they all have generally the same level of empowerment within the state."

Seargent Assad raised her eyebrows "You've had too much to drink I think, Uncle Istvan."

Imro looked suprised that Alwood had noticed him "I don't think you've spilled anything, I just thought that you'd engineered a rather good evening is all."

"Who said we're repressive?" Wilson replied calmly, he seemed the sort who kept his cool well, unlike the other Commisaar in the room, who always seemed to be struggling with hers, "The people have the right to elect whatever Government they like, they have the right to demonstrate and the media has the right to publish whatever it likes."

"There are a few restrictive laws, like there is one forbidding the publishing of the photo of any agent from the undercover branches of the Cheka, but that is more for the safety of the agents than anything else... it also has the interesting loophole in the law that if you get transfered out of those branches they can publish your picture, which has put some Commisaars in quite considerable danger in the past."

"Torture and Execution has been illegal here since the end of the war, that is not to say that it isn't common knowledge that certain branches still have people who die in custody, but I'll say this in their defence, sometimes you must chose the lesser of two evils, or you'll end up with fiascos like 'Fiord Harbour'."

That was the rather unsupported Tzarist insurrection which spawned the Neo Tyr conflict. Wilson was talking a lot more openly than Alwood ever had. He wasn't bound by any confusing legislation, like the 'Official State Secrets Act', although he had a lot less information he could spill.

Alwood actually blushed, it was probably the alcohol begining to take it's toll, "Well I didn't exactly try very hard, it was quite a fluke we bumped into James." she did know him, "Theres a lot of Commisaars in Cyro... thank you anyway."

Uncle Istvan handed his empty scotch glass to Alwood "Be a dear and refill that." then turned back to James "Seems repressive is all. Reports we have indicate that the citizens around here are more terrified of the Cheka than any external threat. Not that we have any secret reports on the matter. We go by public reports, and reports we get from friends and such."

Seargent Assad smiled "Don't worry though, the Foreign Guard will bring stability and prosperity, no matter who's in charge in Cyro."

General Imro chuckled "And if not that, at least some well needed discipline."

"They are afraid, yes. A child is afraid of the monster under the bed, but that does not mean the monster is real. It serves our purpose that we are feared." Wilson concluded.

Alwood seemed quite happy to have stepped out of the conversation, and filled Istvan's glass without protest, handing it back to him, "Here you go."

"...Not that fear of the Cheka is entirely without reason." Wilson continued, "We, well I should say they, killed a lot of people during the Revolution. I was not with the organisation then, I was with CID, I only took the sideways step into the grey uniform last year, Four was expanding and was looking for detectives."

He shrugged, "It pays better than CID."

The comments about prosperity and discipline, saw a very slight stiffening of Alwood's posture, but it seemed she was capable of keeping her mouth shut when she wasn't talking too much anyway.

"Discipline you say?" Wilson chuckled, "You should be so lucky, it's a cultural thing, Dyelli Beybians are very free thinking and unruly."

Alwood stood up, as always, taking a moment to smooth down her skirt, "Excuse me, just a moment." she vanished down a hallway.

Wilson had fallen silent, a slight frown creasing his features, he was wondering if the Vaadians were aware just who they'd been paired up with. If they didn't, should he tell them? Wilson was not the same kind of Commisaar as Alwood, he wasn't loyal to the State, he was, as he'd said, just a detective. That wasn't to say he was a bad man, he cared very much about people, just not too much for the notion of 'Dyelli Beybi'. States came and went, he reasoned, but the people who inhabited them remained.

OOC: Hrrmm, scrap that business I said about the pontiff dying earlier. I've cooked up some even more devious plans to spice this thread up after the evening ends ICly... Big grand conspiracies are so Dyellian.

OOC: dang popes!

IC:

Uncle Istvan smiled "I agree it does help to be feared, by your enemies, not by those you are attempting to protect. Imagine if during your investigations almost the entire populace welcomed and respected your uniform and presence. Imagine how much easier your life would be if when you showed up at a crime scene everyone, except perhaps the guilty parties, were eager to answer your questions and helpful in every other respect.

I know from talking to our Velite Guard that they very rarely have to canvas a neighborhood or an apartment building, that when Vaadian citizens hear about a crime in the vicinity and they believe they have something that might be helpful, they look for the Velites. Wouldn't that be nice? "

Uncle Istvan seemed smug about the Velite Guard's close relationship with the People.

Imro watched Alwood get up and leave "Please turn on the fan while you're in there." he quipped and everyone else had a good laugh and then they turned to the silent Inspector Wilson.

One Dyellian, who seemed to be the 2iC looked about to order the gunner to open fire, but his Commanding Officer held up a restraining hand, "Fair enough I suppose, Parker, cover me."

He stepped out of the jeep and 'advanced to be recognised'. He was in fact a fairly typical looking Dyellian, slightly built and quite short, he probably had dark eyes behind the IRV goggles. He wore the usual somewhat Germanic looking uniform, in a dull-green camouflage pattern this time, "Tenente Powell, 1st Fucillieri Reggiment of the 6th Republican Army." he introduced himself, "We're manning a Coastal Battery some miles down the road and are responding to a distress call from the Police Station in the village."



The Corporal nodded, "Well we were bivouaced in this feild, having just spent the day..." He paused for a second, being lost in the Deyllian countryside is going to be a bit problematic
"...training for scouting secondary routes across this area. We were obviously attacked around the same time the police station reported in."


The priest was a bit flustered, he hadn't expected to be in his kitchen, he'd really just wanted to sit out on this one. The Alconians had probably noticed his kitchens held photos of him looking a little younger, sitting in the turret of a T-90, "I was a Major with the NSWP Armoured Corp during the Revolution." he explained.

That at least went some of the way to explaining how he'd managed to get a liscence for an Automatic weapon - something that was near to impossible to get.

The Alconians were a bit busy trying to figure out what to do next. One was apparently reparing damage to a radio while another was sketching out a map of town from memory.

"Hmm, well we need to figure out who these bastards are...any ideas?"

*****
A young local girl and her mother were shoved into the church by the snarling Benjian. "If I had a bit more time girl, I'd make you a woman..." His eyes and lear made it obvious what he ment.

More locals, pulled from their homes by force were shoved into the church as two men placed mines on each of the windows and strung them together.

"OK." the Tenente accepted the story, "Maybe you can tell me who we're dealing with and in what numbers? At the moment we have invasion alarms going off across the county."

From the North, a second platoon of 8 Sahariana had arrived, presumably scouting for another force that was approaching. The ones already in position had unloaded their troops. Each left a sentry to guard the vehicle while the other two crew members slunk around and tried to work out what was going in the village. They were playing it cautious, as they came to the first row of houses, being very careful when looking around corners.

In the village itself the priest shrugged, then shook his head, "Not a clue, sorry. Didn't get a good look at them. But they must be daft, Epsom county has been crawling with troops since that foreign military base was set up."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm sure it would be quite nice, but I must say I have not found many problems with people being reluctant to talk."

After Alwood left, he noticed he had become the centre of attention. It seemed likely, he supposed that they were hoping he would cough up the dirt on the Inspector, and there was plenty of it, but it seemed rude, especially in her home (and anyway, he'd met her before, she would talk, she liked to show off), instead he changed the subject,

"I'm sure you'll get along just fine around here. Just make sure you don't call anyone a 'sand rat' too often and they should be quite happy. That's a phrase that doesn't tend to endear you to the locals."

Alwood returned, without talking, moving back into the room quietly enough that she might not have been noticed at first. If she'd changed the thermostat on the air conditioner it wasn't by much. She had though rearranged her hair, it was tied up now, rather than in a pony tail, and had finally undone the top two buttons of her blouse (meaning she wasn't choking herself with her collar anymore). She slid back down to where she'd been sitting before, quite unobtrusively. She was enjoying having someone else over to do the talking for once.

"OK." the Tenente accepted the story, "Maybe you can tell me who we're dealing with and in what numbers? At the moment we have invasion alarms going off across the county."


The corporal shrugged and waved his men from out behind the rock wall. They came out, pointing their guns downward but watching the Delliyans carefully. "I have no idea who or what did this. But I do know they apparently captured a Saxon armored personel carrier. We were just peacefully..." A radio crackled nearby


In the village itself the priest shrugged, then shook his head, "Not a clue, sorry. Didn't get a good look at them. But they must be daft, Epsom county has been crawling with troops since that foreign military base was set up."


"So likely it's a bunch of Tyrians...after all their complete morons" The Captain said. Er mind if we fix a cupa...."

The man working on the radio suddenly shouted as it came on..."Sir we have our radio back up..."

"Camp this is Benson...Camp can you hear me?"

*****
Back at the former camp, the sound of a radio from one of the men stopped the Corporal in mid sentance. He looked up at Tenente and pointed towards the sound. Then walked over and picked it up...

"Benson...my god man...this is Camp we've...we've been masacared up here..."

The Captain took the radio..."Who is this...never mind, what is your status..."

"Ah the calvery arrived sir..." He handed the radio over to Tenente. "My commanding officer sir, he was near the town center when things went screwy..."

"No, no, let me, I know where everything is." the cleric protested, opening up a cupboard to retrieve his teapot, "Tea or coffee?"

He jumped slightly when the radio crackled into life, "Hey you might be able to contact the army or something with that."

Then a distinctly Dyellian voice took over, "Tenente Powell, 1st Fucillieri Reggiment of the 6th Republican Army, we've got this place more or less surrounded by Voltigeurs, we're just waiting for the Fusiliers to show. Could you do us a favour Sir and give us some idea as to numbers and equipment and deployments?"

"Looks like they've already arrived." the priest remarked, "Anyone know what a Voltigeur is?"

"I'm sure it would be quite nice, but I must say I have not found many problems with people being reluctant to talk."

After Alwood left, he noticed he had become the centre of attention. It seemed likely, he supposed that they were hoping he would cough up the dirt on the Inspector, and there was plenty of it, but it seemed rude, especially in her home (and anyway, he'd met her before, she would talk, she liked to show off), instead he changed the subject,

"I'm sure you'll get along just fine around here. Just make sure you don't call anyone a 'sand rat' too often and they should be quite happy. That's a phrase that doesn't tend to endear you to the locals."

Alwood returned, without talking, moving back into the room quietly enough that she might not have been noticed at first. If she'd changed the thermostat on the air conditioner it wasn't by much. She had though rearranged her hair, it was tied up now, rather than in a pony tail, and had finally undone the top two buttons of her blouse (meaning she wasn't choking herself with her collar anymore). She slid back down to where she'd been sitting before, quite unobtrusively. She was enjoying having someone else over to do the talking for once.

Uncle Istvan snorts "Sand rat? We're more imaginative in our racial slurs than that. I'd just find one of my Tolteca lads and have them make up a word for the unfortunate victim. They are very good at it, and since it's Tolteca nobody understands it anyone, but they know they're being insulted."

Admiral Connacht finished her drink "Every word in Tolteca sounds like an insult."

Uncle Istvan nodded "That's why they're so thick skinned."

General Imro looked over to Alwood "What time is it? and at what time do we have to view these new tanks tomorow, er today?"

Erdogan grinned "Just one more day, then we can head back to civilization!"

They had a good laugh. Once again, at someone elses expense.

"Not very creative no." Wilson agreed, "But some phrases carry emotional weight."

"It's just past three." Alwood replied, checking her watch "Tanks are at two."

"One more day and you'll be able to leave this strange tribal collection of mud huts and half naked cannibals." she continued sarcastically.

"It's that late already?" Wilson sounded worried, "I've got forms to fill out tomorrow."

Uncle Istvan looked alaemed "Tanks at two!? We're an hour late!"

Seargent Assad laughs "Two p.m. "

Uncle Istvan shrugs "So much for sarcasm, So, have we put a dent in your stock of alcohol at all? If not, I'll order Erdogan to chug whatever you've got back there."

Admiral Connacht yawns and stretches and lays across Uncle Istvan's lap "Can't we go home yet daddy?"

General Imro nods "I'm with the nymphomaniac, I'm too old to be out drinking all night."

Uncle Istvan grins "No one's leaving until Wilson is too obviously impaired to do any paper work tomorrow." Istvan shouts like a drill seargent "DRINK YOU MAGGOT! HOO-RAH!"

"There are still a few unopened bottles back their, and nobody has even touched the anise." Alwood replied earnestly, "Probably enough to drown in... you see, there's no alcohol tax in Dyelli Beybi."

This meant that a bad bottle of vodka would sell for less than a similar sized bottle of soft drink.

"Ooh as much as it is tempting." Wilson replied, not in the least bit phased by the drill Sergeant act, "It's a very important day tomorrow. Solving the crime is only half the job, and I don't want to leave anything important off the report that a good lawyer could expoit."

Alwood had gone silent again, although she was giving Imro a coy look. Suddenly her cellphone began ringing, "Oh who the hell rings at this time of night." she grumbled, as she retrieved it from her pocket.

"Hello... Who is this?... No I'm not alone!... What?... Alright just a moment..." she stood up, mouthing an apology to everyone else in the room, and retreating down the hallway to a spot which could be considered out of earshot (if you were half-deaf), "So why are you rining me?... Why should I?... Who are?... Now just you list..."

She closed her phone with a snap, "Well that was interesting." her voice was light, but beads of sweat had formed on her forhead, she was spooked but didn't want to admit it.

Uncle Istvan chuckled at Wilson and then looked dead serious "Drink, or I'll order Erdogan to tear off your arm and beat you to death with it."

He then looked at Alwood "Was that your neighbor? are we making to much noise? are they going to call the cops? They'll never take me alive!"

Erdogan looked ill "anise? That's far worse than any absinthe. It's like ass flavired cough syrup."

General Imro chuckled "Inspector Alwood like her drinks strong."

"Well if I didn't have any arms I wouldn't be too good at filing reports either, so I guess it's a loose loose situation." Wilson remarked dryly, "Anyway I don't see why you want me to drink, it's only wasting good alcohol that you yourselves could drink."

"What?" Alwood wasn't concentrating, "Oh that? Oh no, that was nothing important."

For about the first time since Wilson had appeared she actually seemed eager to join in the conversation, "I'll take your word on that, I've never tried 'ass flavoured cough syrup', so can't really comment."

She was only a little drunk at this stage, she seemed to be walking and talking alright, although she was having to concentrate harder than usual on the conversation, she had quite a high tolerance for someone so slim, "Weak drinks don't go down very well in Dyelli Beybi, I'm not that unusual."

Maybe she sounded a little defensive. Wilson was mentally noting it looked like she'd picked up a drinking problem, which tallied with his earlier theories on her.

"Well, I would only have him tear off one arm. It's just that you look as though you aren't having a good time, and since we're all such good company, it must be because you aren't drinking enough." Uncle Istvan rationalized

He patted Admiral Connacht on the stomach "We'll go home soon dear, Inspector Alwood looks like she's going to pass out soon anyway, all that sweating."

Imro nodded "She wasn't sweating until the phone call, maybe it's not the alcohol."

Seargent Assad smiled "It must have been her other boyfriend, are you getting jealous Imro?"

Some more laughter ensued, it seems everyone is fair game in this circle. Imro sipped at his scotch "Most certainly not, we have an open relationship."

Erdogan shrugged "Women, you can't live with em, you can't live with em."

Uncle Istvan rubbed his chin "I don't think that's how that saying goes?"

Erdogan shrugged again "Nah, but that's life."

"Oh not at all." Wilson protested with a grin, "But if I do end up drunk tonight and say out for the count tomorrow, the Super will do far more than just rip my arm off, he likes his filing in on time so he does."

He nodded gravely, "Filing is the most important part of police work." there was more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Alwood, meanwhile, gave Imro a look of mock outrage, "You've got two on the go General? and here was me thinking you had trouble relating to the locals."

"Can't live with us?" the mock outrage was still there, "That could be quite a big problem, unless Ilek Vaad is into the whole cloning vats business... Anyway, life would be boring if we weren't around to ruin all your carefully laid plans."

She seemed to have totally forgotten the phone call, "Now who was it who was insulting the anise before? I'll give you a Kronor if you can skull the whole bottle without being sick."

Anyone who tried that would end up in one of Cyro's hospitals with a stomach pump, it was a big bottle, and being produced in Dyelli Beybi, had a little more alcoholic that anise was supposed to. She sat down on the floor again, but this time close enough to Imro to use his leg as a back rest.

Erdogan shrugged "We can all do like Imro, get his girlfriends knocked up and then make such an ass of himself that they kick him out."

Imro laughed "I just love to love, what can I say? It works for me."

Uncle Istvan perked up "Erdogan's going to take your money Alwood, he drank a gallon of gasoline on a bet one time."

Seargent Assad frowned "I thought it was everclear?"

Uncle Istvan shrugged "Ever Clear, gasoline..........you say tomato........"

Admiral Connacht stretches again "It was everclear, it's no fair, Erdogan can open up his throat and dump in whole bottles of alcohol and at his size , jeez, he can drink like a fish."

Uncle Istvan put a hand on Admiral Connacht's breast "Corection, an alcoholic fish."

Admiral Connacht looked down at his hand Istvan ignored it and polished off his scotch "I need a refill."

Admiral Connacht laughed "Not me, my cups tunning over!"

Erdogan just nodded "Get the Anise."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me, he can be a bit abrasive." Alwood remarked as if Imro wasn't in the room, much less being leaned against by her.

She shrugged, "Hey it's only a Kronor. James, could you do me a big favour and go and get that bottle of anise."

He eyed Alwood suspiciously, "I'm not certain that's a good idea. If he dies from alcohol poisoning, it is your fault."

"You can't arrest me though. First cupboard on your left as you go into the kitchen."

"Right, got it." he stood up and wandered into the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboard he'd been told to, "You've got a lot of stuff in here, sure you don't have an alcohol problem?"

"Course I don't, while you're up open the window, I don't want anyone being sick on the carpet, it would cost far more than a Kronor to get it cleaned." she sounded a distracted.

Abruptly she twisted around where she was seated to give Imro a big, innocent, blue eyed stare, "General... out of curiosilty, if I hadn't handed the key over the other day what would you have done?"

Wilson had found the bottle, he stopped off to open the window, "If you are sick." he commented, "I'll give you a Kronor if you hit the roof of the phonebox down there. Not that I'm encouraging that kind of behaviour being a Police Officer and all."

Erdogan uncermoniuosly took the bottle tilted his head back and drained it, without gulping, much like Bluto in 'Animal House'. With the bottle empty he paused to belch.

"That was marginally better than the Ever Clear." He stated.

Uncle Istvan clapped "Very well done Mustapha."

Erdogan just nodded and eturned to a seat.

Imro smiled back at Alwood "Well, that's easy. I would've locked you in the bathroom and slept in your bed."

Seargent Assad nodded "Yeah, he's not afraid to hit a girl."

Imro shrugged "All the girls I know hit back."

"Oh very well done." Alwood flicked a gold, shiny 1 Kronor coin (which would buy a small packet of chewing gum), "If you do want to be sick, bathroom's over there."

"Maybe he wants a stomach pump." Wilson remarked caustically.

He was ignored by Alwood who's attentions had fixed back on Imro, (in her state she wasn't capable of focusing on two people at once) "You're so boring General, OK I might have been trying to get information out of you."

There was a slight smile, suggesting she thought it was all a big game, "But if I tried it again, I won't be motivated by information... I don't believe you actually know anything I'd be interested in, and in any case, I'm beyond caring about the State and its interests. The State uses people until they're a dried out husk, then tosses them on the fire."

There was real feeling in her voice, although where this latest rage against 'the State' had come from was anyone's guess. Wilson was tactfully ignoring it, "Anyway." she continued, "You shouldn't hit girls, it's not nice. It's a woman's right to hit whoever she choses without someone taking a swing back at her."

Imro chuckled "If anyone swings on me, I swing back, unless I'm obviously overmatched, then I run."

Uncle Istvan smiles at Alwood "We don't let Imro know anything anyhow, he's just a patsy in my intricate plans for world domination."

Seargent Assad chuckles " How does your retirement work into your plan?"

Uncle Istvan shrugs and squeezes Admiral Connacht "I don't know, my plan is so devious and cunn ing, even I don't know it."

Imro pats Uncle Istvan's shoulder " You're a patsy in your own plan then."

Seconds later Erdogan made a sound, he snoring.

Admiral Connacht sighed "Jesus, he's asleep. Who's going to carry him?"

Assad smiles "Eh, we'll just leave him here and send for him later. He's only daangerous now if you try and wake him up."

"Never thought I'd hear you admit running." Alwood laughed... well, more giggled, she studdied Imro closely as if examining some new and interesting plant, "Maybe you're not quite as dense as you look."

The alcohol seemed to have freed her tongue a bit, "If you can conquer the rest of Klatch." she promised Istvan, "I'll give you a Kronor as well."

Erdogan's snore drew her attention she turned to study him, "Oh great, hope he isn't sick." Alwood seemed preoccupied with the state of her carpet.

"I hope he is." the other Commisaar chimed in with a remarkably ill concieved comment, "It could be dangerous if he isn't."

Alwood glared at him frostily but didn't say anything in reply, she couldn't think of a witty retort at the moment, "I'll get him a bucket, that way at least the carpet is safe."

She stood up, leaning over to whisper something in Imro's ear, "If he ends up sleeping on my sofa you're staying here too." it sounded like a threat, "And before you get any funny ideas it's because I trust you... nothing personal against your friend, I've just... I'll tell you some other time."

She straightened up, not giving him time to reply and wandered down the side corridoor again, "Maybe I shouldn't have said that." Wilson mused, although the half-smile he was wearing suggested he found the situation more than a little amusing.

She returned dumping an orange bucket in front of Erdogan, before returning to where she'd been seated earlier.

General Imro smiled "The first command any Retaliatory Guardsman learns is the 'range' command. "

Uncle Istvan explained this he was always eager to compund on military theory "I never for the life of me understood why you would want men armed with a ranged weapon to advance towards the enemy. Supreme Republican Commander Namroth Vedic correctly pointed out that fixed lines and defensive positions were the major factor of concentrations of casualties in modern warfare.

Constant movement gives the Guard the ability to control the economy of firepower and dictate the position of the enemy, when your enemy has to follow you to engage, you can lead them where you want......"

He looked set to continue when Admiral Connacht shifted positions and appeared to slide her hand down the front of his pants, Uncle Istvan stopped talking and then smiled " I wrote a book on it I think."

Seargent Assad laughed and then shrugged at Wilson "Mustapha is only ever half asleep I'm sure he heard you and is dreaming his revenge. I doubt if he's ill, he's just tuckered out from a long day, poor little fella."

Erdogan snored a bit louder as if in agreement.

Imro simply smiled and shrugged at Alwoods whisper " I can live with that."

"Thanks." Alwood didn't whisper in reply, the word would mean nothing to anyone else, although they'd probably notice her posture was a little more relaxed.

"I'm sure she didn't mean it." Wilson volunteered to the sleeping figure.

"Don't ask me about military tactics." Alwood shrugged, "I'm not military, and back in the old days of the good old Revolution, 'tactics' meant a whole band of serfs with bolt action rifles being stuck behind a wall and told not to stop firing until someone shot them. I of course quickly got moved out of there, the Cheka wanted people to snoop around and find out who was plotting against the Government, and then to get rid of them discreetly."

"And then very kindly tranfered you to One where legally they're obliged to make public your photo and record, and now you're having to look over your shoulder the whole time just in case there's someone with a grudge." Wilson finished the story.

"Thanks James." she may or may not have wanted all that to come out.

General Imro smiled "Well, it's a good thing you're with then, you probably have to look over your shoulder a lot less with when you're with the Foreign Guard."

Uncle Istvan frowned "You didn't have tactics during the revolution, but managed to keep records? I find that odd. What good are the records if you don't even win?

Revolutionaries seem to be chronically lacking in common sense, if you ask me."

Seargent Assad smiles "which is why so few revolutions suceed." she turns to Alwood "Yours was one of the lucky ones."

"Saying there weren't any tactics is wrong." Wilson jumped in, "There were propper trained military units, but they only made up around half the army. The other half were peasants who brought their own weapons and had no training whatsoever and no proper chain of Command. A lot of the units weren't merged, the 'Volunteer' units were often flung at the enemy to slow them down a bit while the trained soldiers prepared positions. The records were kept because the rebellion was started by Intelligence Officers. Records are very important in Intelligence."

"Actually... keeping records is very Dyellian." Alwood gave a self depricating laugh, "It's just about the National sport."

She leaned back on Imro again, giving a smile and nod when Assad commented on the success of the Dyellian Revolution, "The country was rotten and falling apart from the inside, when the Tzar died four seperate rebellions broke out, the country was like a big rotten piece of fruit. When the Tzar died it fell off the tree and splattered, 'Dyelli Beybi' as it is now is just what grew out of the seeds, it bears no resemblance to the 'Dyelli Beybi' under the Tzar."

"It's a strange world." she concluded, "And a rather unusual country you decided to set a base up in, although God help me, despite all my preconcieved ideas, it actually seems to be working."

Uncle Istvan shrugged "Sometimes things work out despite everything." He paused and yawned "Well, maybe it is time to call it an evening? "

"Yeah we still have tanks to look at tomorr.......er later today." Imro nodded and finished off his scotch.

"And Wilson has paperwork to do, loads of it." Deargent Assad laughed as she said it

"Yeah." Wilson nodded in agreement, "Like Commisaar Alwood said, record keeping is the National sport, unfortunately someone has to sit down and meticulously record everything, and in a case that lasted 2 months there's a lot of stuff to write down... plus of course there's my petrol claims form."

"I think we've heard enough about your petrol claims." Alwood retorted as she pulled the bundle of keys from around her neck, "Hopefully everything goes well tomorrow, if you want to delay things, I'm sure I can bully the factory into taking us around later on." she looked between Imro and Istvan.

She stood, stretching her back, "It has been an informative evening." she declared with a slight smile.

Wilson was the first one up, "Any chance of a taxi chit?" he asked with a grin.

"Get out you scoundrel!" she laughed, "Pay for your own taxi for once."

Uncle Istvan stood and shook his head "Nah, I don't sleep anymore anyhow, it's the rest of these lasies that need their dleep, we'll be there on time and hsarp, or heads will roll."

Imro headed quickly for the door "Yeah and we'll pick up Erdogan tomorrow, keep in mind he has night terrors and may start screaming, and don't shake him awake or he'll eat you!"

The others stood and looked over at Erdogan as he snored quietly, Admiral Connacht looked him over "Maybe we shouldn't really leave him here? Alwood has been such a good hostess and it'd be a shame if Erdogan ate her."

"Oh no really, he'll be fine there." Alwood waved a hand dismissively.

She gave Imro a dissaproving look, she wanted him here tonight for reasons which were entirely her own, although he would probably be surprised to learn that seducing him was many miles from the top of the list. Nevertheless she snaked an arm around his waist, "And I'm sure the General will be more than happy to protect me from whatever random acts of cannibalism the Colonel may be prone to."

Wilson just about choked, when he heard Alwood suggesting she might need protection, but kept his mouth closed.

She had pressed herself against Imro's back, "Please." she whispered close to his ear, "I need you here, it's very hard to explain right now, and it's not all about your friend either. This is life and death, I'll be eternally grateful."

Ostensibly it looked like she was making another pass at the General, although it would probably be dawning on him that there was a little bit more beneath the surface.

General Imro wasn't one to turn down a life and death proposal, He nodded "Yes, very well, I suppose we can't just leave Mustapha here alone, who knows what could happen? Especially with all these guns around, one bad dream and the whole apartment block becomes a slaughterhouse."

Uncle Istvan smiled and winked "That sounds good to me, just make sure everyone is awake and on time tomorrow. For every minute you are late I shall kill you!"

The rest just said good bye and thanked Alwood for a nice evening and staggered out to some hopefully waiting transportation.

"That could get interesting if I was ten minutes late." Alwood mused, "I'll try not to be late then, I'm much more interesting when I'm alive."

The transport was there, although the drivers were asleep, it had probably been there the whole time. Wilson bid his goodbyes, then took a taxi home. Taxis in Cyro were white with a red band around the door.

Meanwhile, up in the flat, Alwood disconnected from Imro, snickering immaturely, "I'm sorry, you probably think I'm totally paranoid, but I wanted an alibi for tonight, and he's too drunk to be much use in court."

"Anyway I know I probably owe you some explanations, but its too late and I really can't be bothered, all in the morning mmhm?"

She stepped in closer to him again, aparently studying his shirt, "I'm going to unfortunately have to ask you to sleep in my room." she looked up, a malicious grin sneaking across her face, "It would make the alibi stick a lot better."

Uncle Istvan helpfully pounded on one of the hoods of the transports to wake up the drivers, and then he and his companions piled in and headed back to the Teztcatlipoca for the rest of the morning.

Meanwhile Imro looked suspicious "Alibi? Who are you going to kill? Or who is going to die that they are going to blame you for killing?"

He unbuttoned his double breasted guardsman shirt "Very well, I'll take your room and you can sleep in the nath tub. " he said with a mischievious smile.

The driver awoke with a start, "Hey no need to make such a... begging your pardon Sir." he hopped out to open the door, wating for Istvan's party to all clamber in, before shutting the door again and rolling off towards their destination.

"OK." Alwood was looking a little flustered, "That cellphone I've got is a High Security number, so when someone tells me it's a good idea to get out of town so that I don't get used as a scapegoat for someone's scheme, I took them seriously."

It didn't sound like she wanted to talk about it, "Sleep in the bath?" mock outrage filled her voice, "And I thought you weren't frightened of anything."

She shook her head, perching on the edge of the Kitchen bench, "What do you think I'll do, murder you in your sleep?"

"You can search me for weapons if you like." she offered playfully, "Then once you're satisfied I'm quite safe, I'm going to bed... in my own bed."

Imro chuckles "You couldn't kill me if I was asleep, you've got a fairly smug opinion about your skills as an assassin. I've two ex-wives that have tried to kill in my sleep and I'm still here.

I was just being polite, I didn't want you to think that I was thinking of defiling your womanly virtue. I hope you have a big bed, plus I kick in my sleep sometimes."

With that Imro headed for Alwood's bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes.

"Virtue?" she sounded puzzled, "Oh that, how very thoughtful of you. At least I'll have something interesting to say in confession next time." she followed, shutting the door...

... despite any preconcieved ideas that she may have been trying to spy, she really had nothing to say afterwards, apart from insisting that Imro call her 'Zara' at non-official times, then asking rather pointedly, "Do you even have a first name, or did all your exs just call you 'General'?"

She probably only had about an hours sleep, rising at about 6 am, long, long before she had to, showering and changing into a fresh uniform. She quietly left spare key and swipe card on the bedside table, then took a few moments to check her hair in the mirror, before vanishing back out into the kitchen. Her room, seemed to be where she'd put the photos of friends and such. She was cunning, and it was more than likely the guns were a facade to make people think she was a dangerous psychopath, without the human side.

At about Seven, the doorbell rang. She came back to the bedroom, dumping Imros clothes on the foot of the bed before poking him gently in the arm to make sure he was awake, "Hey, if I don't see you again, working with you wasn't a trial all the time, and tell your friends to see a dentist."

The doorbell rang again, the ringer was persistent, she began to leave, but turned again at the doorway, "I'm going to try to use you as an alibi, but if I can't." she shrugged, "Don't do anything silly, you don't want to get mixed up in this. Good luck with your Foreign Guard, the Government wants you as a friend, just don't go poking around in too many of it's dirty secrets."

Alwood finally departed to answer the door, moving through the very elaborite security system she'd established, but never returned back to the flat.

If and when the others came out, they'd find, a portly, grey haired man in a light dust coat, sporting an impressive moustache and a trilby hat, munching contentedly on a deep fried Mars bar. Something about him just screamed 'plain clothed police officer'.

The Vaadians had just become mixed up in one of Dyelli Beybis many unpleasant conspiracies.

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It would also probably be something of a surprise for Istvan to find a completely different Commisaar waiting patiently for him the next day. This one was a dry clerical looking man, with a permanent apologetic smile plastered across his face.

Imro smiled "I told you when I first met you Ramtheosz Imro, my friends call me Ram, my ex wives call me jackass."

He then went straight to sleep until awakened. When Alwood dropped his clothes and stuff he immediately went to the nathroom to shower. The doorbell however woke Colonel Erdogan who growled helpfully as he stood "Are you going to get that?" as he put his body armour and long coast back on, he looked none the worse for wear and just about as angry as we was last night.

General Imro and Erdogan left directly, Imro turned to Erdogan "Something is going on, and just when I was comfortable with my liasion."

They walked out and though neither of them gave much attention to the man in the trilby hat (Inspector Monkfish?) they glanced at him only briefly and Erdogan being the clumsy oaf he is shoulder checked the poor fellow to the ground with a rather unpleasant "Pardon me!"

*****

Back at the docks Uncle Istvan and Seargent Assad left the Tetzcatlipoca to go see some tanks (the Admiral was nowhere to be seen), they met the new Commissar and Uncle Istvan immediately made a funny. "Holy God Alwood, you had an awful lot to drink last night, you look absolutely horrible today."

Seragent Assad shook her head "That's not Alwood, that's man , sir."

"Hey hey hey!" the police officer did not look too amused at being barged into, "Ease up on the agro mate."

He straightened his jacket as he stood up, "Detective Inspector Exley." he introduced himself, screwing up the paper bag his food had been in, "And I would be arresting you for assaulting a police officer," he pronounced with relish, "if I didn't have more important business to attend to."

He directed a malevolent stare at Erdogan, "One of the two of you is Zara Alwood's alibi I'm assuming... anyway, I wouldn't normally have taken her into the station, but there's a Chief Superintendent from Six with a bee in her bonnet about your Commisaar, absolutely insisted we bring her in, actually come to mention it the Chief Super's a dead ringer for Miss Alwood."

He considered this for a moment then shrugged, "Anyway, thought you fellows might want to know where she's got to. I'm dead sure she's not the person we're looking at, so as soon as the Super's satisfied I'll let her go again."


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The new Commisaar seemed lacking in the humour department as well, "Commisaar Smith, at your service Sir. Sadly Commisaar Alwood is unavailable at the moment." he continued dryly, "So I'll be escorting you around Cyro today. Apparently DBFC Automobile have been good enough to move the prototype to their Cyro plant, so we won't be requiring a helicopter flight."

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Cyro central Police Station

Alwood was seated across a table from two CID detectives, someone had been kind enough to put a plastic restraining band around her wrists, it dug into the skin and was generally very uncomfortable, "I've told you already, I was with the Vaadian General last night. All of last night."

Both detectives nodded, "I know." one apologised, "We just havn't got word back that he's confirmed your alibi, and the Chief Super won't let you out until then."

"This is ridiculous." she snorted, "I wasn't even friends with Patrick Graham, yeah I met him once, but it's not about to motivate me to go out and hack some Atlantean businessman into small pieces. For God's sake, he was a spook, he knew the risks."

The detective nodded again, giving an apologetic smile, "Look, I'm really sorry, we just need to clear stuff up with the Super..."

The door slammed open, "You two are relieved." A commisaar had appeared at the door, "Four is taking over this case. Where's Exley?"

"I don't bloody know." one detective replied, angered by the Commisaar's supercilious tone.

"Well when he comes in, tell him to turn all his information on the case over to Four then to go back to looking for burglars, or whatever you clowns usually do."

There was some angry muttering as the pair left. The Commisaar yawned, sitting down in one of the recently evacuated chairs, he waited until the two detectives were out of the room before saying his piece, "Guess what?"

"What?" Alwood asked sweetly.

"Your alibi has denied any knowledge of your whereabouts yesterday evening, puts a big hole in your story aye?" he sneered.

For half a second Alwood felt the bitter pang of betrayal, before she realised what was actually going on, "Or more apropriately you've chosen to ignore him and carry on regardless?"

"Undoubtedly we'll find the murder weapons when we search your apartment." he was enjoying this, slowly reaching into his pocket and pulling out a tape recorder, which he layed on the table.

"Oh no." she looked suddenly worried, "You're not serious?"

"Zara Alwood, I'm arresting you for the murder of Philip Caster, you do not have to say anything, anything you do say may be used in evidence against you." he clicked the tape recorder off, with a satisfied smirk.

"If I go to prison I'll kick up a stink." she promised.

"Miss Alwood." he gave her a shocked look, "Do you not read the papers? The 'Criminal Actions of Intelligence Officers' bill, means that when you are found guilty you'll be looking at the guillotine."

"When the hell did that get passed?" suddenly Alwood's situation had got a lot worse.

"A few days ago." the Commisaar waved a hand dismissively, "I can't remember, very convenient though isn't it?"

Colonel Erdogan looked down at Inspector Exley "Assaulting a police officer? You should have watched where you were going , am I to be arrested for your clumsiness?"

General Imro just gave Exley a hard look and addressed him in a military tone "Alibi? What would Inspector Alwood need an Alibi for? You do realize that Inspector Alwood is supposed to be escorting myself, Colonel Erdogan and the Supreme Republican Commander to view a new DBFC tank? Inspector Alwood was with me all night, until just minutes ago. The Supreme Republican Commander and his staff were also with her until four am this morning."

General Imro snapped his heels toghether as he leaned in towards Exley like a drill seargent tearing into a raw cadet "The Supreme Republican Commander does not tolerate lateness, I suggest that you clear up this matter quickly, as of RIGHT NOW. I am certain that you have no intention of alienating the Retaliatory Guard Command? I am doubly certain that Inspector Alwood wasn't involved in anything last night, or early this morning as I was with her the whole time from yesterday morning to this morning."

He straightened up again "For god's sake man, wipe those crumbs from your chin and pull those shoulders back. What sort of officer are you?"

Colonel Erdogan checked his watch "The Supreme Republican Commander will not pleased. I told him we should have stationed the Foreign Guard in Karmanyaka, Dyelli Beybi is far to unstable." he stated off handedly.

*****

Uncle Istvan nodded "I see. You do realize that the rest of our group is with Commissar Alwood? I do not intend to see these tanks without General Imro present. I don't even see why we are looking at these tanks, I have plenty of surplus Thunderer Main Battle Tanks that the Foreign Guard could use at considerably lower cost."

Seargent Assad cleared her throat "The Republican Council wants us to use local equipment, where possible."

Uncle Istvan shrugged "Very well then, as soon as General Imro and Colonel Erdogan Arrive we shall depart. It's fucking hot out here Smith."

*****

Aboard the Tetzcatlipoca Admiral Connacht was having coffee and her bagels when a Red Jaguar walked in "Admiral, Uncle Istvan says I was to report to you to help you prepare a squad."

She paused "Squad? What for?"

He shrugged "He said something about 'fighting the gonad elves, and then went to the privy."

She closed her eyes "Damnit, I already blocked that out from yesterday. What is your name?"

"Leftenant Ramirez." he said with a slight bow "He said you, me and nine of our lads. What sort of lads do you want, the big mean ones? Or the light stealthy ones? If it's jungle I think it's a toss up."

Admiral Connacht shrugged "Doesen't matter to me, sit down and have breakfast, I'm not even going to start thinking about this for at least another hour."

Exley gave Imro a hard look, "Well we didn't know that until just now did we?"

He was not responding well to being ordered about, responding in an almost peevish tone, "Like I said, I wouldn't have picked her up, if it was over to me. If you want to lodge a complaint be my guest to come down to the Station and speak to the Chief Super."

He straightened up from his usual slouch, tugging the lapels of his dust coat, a belligerent look in his eyes, "I don't give a brass razzoo for the Supreme Republican wassisname or the whatever guard, I solve crimes." his tone was patronising at best.

"What kind of an officer am I? I'm a police officer." he replied as if explaining to some six year old child, why he had the funny badge.

"If you want to go down to the Station I'll be more than happy to give you a lift." he didn't like the jumped up foreigners, but he disliked the Chief Superintendent more.

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OOC: more later...

Smith nodded sagely, "It's Cyro. It can be quite hot. It is quite early though Sir, the appointment is still a few hours off, so there is really no hurry."

He paused, licking his lips in an almost furtive manner, "May I inquire as to where the General and the Colonel are, perhaps they can be picked up?"

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"I want to see my lawyer." Alwood demanded, she would have folded her arms were her wrists not bound together, she was sure she was loosing circulation.

"We'll send for them, what's the name?" the Commisaar had a smug look on his face, Alwood had no doubt they would actually send for a different lawyer, one who would be in Six's pocket.

A sudden idea occured to her though, it wasn't much of a plan, it had far too many variables in it to work efficiently, but it gave her a very slight chance to get a message out, "Ramtheosz Imro." she said, directing an unpleasant glare at the man across the table.

He laughed, "What the hell kind of name is that?"

He stood up, and strode over to the door, rapping on it. A Met officer opened it, "Sir?"

"Take a look around the building for a Ramtheosz Imro, apparently it's her lawyer, if you don't find them, ring this number." he handed a card over to the officer, "It's for Mr Balsythe, she needs legal representation."

The door closed again, immediately the Commisaar sighed dramatically, "I need breakfast, I'll be back, unfortunately, with you being such a dangerous criminal, we will need to restrain you."

He left, immediately as he had, a pair of AOS Officers entered the room, Alwood didn't bother to resist, as she was turned, along with her chair to face the wall. One Officer bent down, binding her feet to the chair legs, while the other passed a chain across her chest and around the back of the chair. She wasn't going to break out in a while she supposed. They left, Alwood counted carefully the time it took for their footsteps to recede, and the door to close. Something about the door sound wasn't quite right, someone had come in, "I take it this is the bit when the tapes go off?"

"They're already off." the voice was female, smooth and with a strong hint of Dyellian lilt, "I know you're wondering how bumping you off right now benefits us at all?"

"You read my mind." she didn't try to turn to look at the new arrival, she'd move into the light when they were finished gloating.

They crossed to very close behind her, close enough to feel the other woman's breath tickle her ear when she whispered, "It doesn't benefit the State at all, but it does benefit me, I'd like to kill you right now, it's so tempting, but we'll let the law take it's course, it should all be over in a week anyway, then Zara Alwood, you'll die, and I will spit on your corpse."

Alwood was silent. She could tell it annoyed her captor that she wasn't playing along, the other woman wanted her to squirm, to beg, to try to reason. When she spoke again the newcomer sounded slightly annoyed, "Don't you want to know who it is who ruined your career and is now going to have you killed?"

Alwood feigned considering this, "No, not really."

Suddenly and quite unexpectedly her head was wrenched around to the left, and she found herself staring into a face that was very, very familiar, "Ah." she tried not to sound too much like she'd jut seen a ghost, "...bugger."

Things were suddenly looking a lot worse.

General Imro looked over Exely with every indication that some horrible violent reprisal was on the way.

"Inspector, you may not care , but I do, Colonel Erdogan does, the Right Honourable Eamon Collins does and a Mr. Felix Dzerzhinsky does care about the Supreme Republican Commander and the closer ties that can aid your nation, nationally and internationally."

His voice was still harsh and commanding as he leaned closer again.

"When I do file a complaint, Detective Inspector Exley , it will be directly to the Right Honourable Eamon Collins himself. In the interests of international relations, you had better find someone that can deal with this issue promptly and properly."

He straightened up again "Now, Detective Inspector, you shall drive me and Colonel Erdogan to your 'station'. This will be done without insult to the Supreme Republican Commander, the Foreign Guard or any other institution of the Free Republic of Ilek-Vaad, that is if you would like to keep your 'razzoos' attached and functioning. Is this clear?"

As if to crystallize the threat Colonel Erdogan pushed his coat back and put his hands on his hips, not only revealing the alramingly heavy body armour, but the ridiculous assortment of weapons attached to it.

These types of snafus and changes in plans were exactly the type of thing that put Vaadians off of foreigners, they prized stability and continuity and found it deeply insulting to have the game changed as it was being played.

*****

Uncle Istvan nodded to Smith "You may inquire." He then simply stood there as if waiting.

After a long pregnant pause seargent Assad stepped in "General Imro and Colonel Erdogan stayed at Commissar Alwood's flat last night. They were to arrive with her."

Exley shrugged, "Whatever wets your whistle." he replied with plenty of implied insult to the institution of the Free Republic of Ilek-Vaad.

Exley's car was idling out the front. It was an unmarked silver vehicle, out of the DBFC factory in Alexigrad, one of the good models (the one's they didn't try to pedal overseas). Another plain clothed police officer, also in his fifties was driving, "George, we're taking these two gentlemen" he managed to make it sound like he severely doubted any gentlemanly atributes, "...down to the Station."

"Why what have they done?" George looked like an inoffensive sort, black hair streaked with grey and a well combed moustache.

"Nothing." Exley wasn't answering questions, seating himself in the front passenger's seat and scooping up a meat pie from the front Dashboard which he proceeded to eat.

The Metropolitan Police Station in this part of town was more of a small office block, four stories high, with underground parking for the Squad cars. The car stopped at the front of a flight of steps up to the main Office. Exley had finished his pie, screwing up the white paper bag it had been in and shoving it into a pocket, "Follow me."

He barged through the front door into a waiting room that was empty, aside from a Met officer sitting behind a bullet proof screen, "Ah John..." the Office behind the screen stood up.

Exley interupted him, "One of these is Mr. Imro, I don't know who the other one is?" he had deliberately left out the titles to annoy the foreigners, but it had quite an unexpected response.

"Really?" the Officer looked them up and down quizically then shrugged, pressing a buzzer on his desk, allowing a side door to open, "Mr. Imro, if you could please come this way your client is in interview room three.... John, stay here I've got some news for you."

Imro and Erdogan wered left standing in a coridoor for a minute or two without any real explanation, the door shut behind them, it was on an automatic timer, while in front of them was another door constructed from steel bars, the kind you usually find in prisons. From the outside, Exley's raised voice could be heard, "What do you bloody mean some Commisaar is taking over the case?"

Anything else was lost as some slender WPC sauntered down the coridoor on the other side, whistling tunelessly. She stopped in front of the door, she had almost bird-like features, giving the two Vaadians a critical stare, "You don't look much like lawyers to me."

Nevertheless she unlocked the door, "Interview Room three, thats the Commisaar?"

She didn't stop talking to allow for an answer, "Pretty thing, but by God is she a cold one. Lawyered up... sorry, no offense intended, as soon as that foreigner, no offense intended, who was her alibi retracted his statement."

The Commisaars in Six had made a rather large mistake, they had involved the Cyro Metropolitan Police, The Met were not the most glamorous branch of the Police Force, and were probably a little too proud, but they were by and large honest, upright and helpful. The WPC kept on talking, dropping more damning information, "The Commisaars really moved in quick on this case, they didn't even give us an opportunity to solve it, heck we had it for less than four hours before they took it off us. Actually a really odd thing I've noticed, the Alwood girl looks so similar to the Chief Superintendent that if I didn't kno better I'd swear they were related."

She stopped in front of a fairly unremarkable door. Half a dozen AOS Officers were slouched against the wall, "Here you are, Interview Room Three, the Chief Superintendent insisted that we restrain her, said she a danger to the staff."

She opened the door, closing it politely, after all a lawyer needed privacy with his client. Alwood as it happened was still facing the far wall, bound to the chair with her wrists bound behind her back with some kind of unpleasant plastic tie. She didn't twist her neck around to work out who had come in this time, "Good Morning." she called cheerfully, "Pardon me if I don't stand, only I find I'm a little tied up at the moment."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile Smith was begining to look a little shifty, "They were?" his dry voice conveyed no emotion, "Perhaps we should go and collect them?"

General Imro and Colonel Erdogan waited, saying nothing until it was mentioned that the 'foreigner' alibi had retracted his statement.

"That is odd." Imro intoned as he stepped into the room "I am that foreigner, and I have yet to even make a statement."

Imro and Erdogan stepped into the interrogation room and Imro chuckled "Well, well, what have you gotten yourself into Commissar? I understand I'm to be your lawyer as well? I have to warn you I was only a Judges Advocate General for two years and I only dealt with non-criminal compensation cases, and did rather poorly at that."

Imro noded and Erdogan went over and turned the chair around, 'accidentally' cutting the plastic ties with his ridiculously sharp clawed gauntlets.

They then had a seat and Imro smiled "Now then, seeing as how I'm most likely your alibi, I would advise you not to make any statements to me as I could be testifying in your defence. Were you advised of your rights?"

Erdogan chuckled and positioned his large frame directly in the doorway.

*****

Uncle Istvan nodded to Smith "Maybe we should. The longer we stand here doing nothing, the angrier I become. I'd hate to have to order my battleship to start shelling Cyro out of spite. "

Assad grinned "You can't shell a city out of spite."

Uncle Istvan sniffed "I don't see why not."

"Oh it's you." Alwood grinned despite her rather unfortunate predicament.

"Thanks." she gave Erdogan a particularly winning smile after freeing her hands. There were unpleasantred marks on her wrists, she began to rub them, massaging some life back.

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this, I was relying on you being a bit bull headed and coming down here to work out what was going on, I said the whole lawyer bit so that the Met would let you in. A lot of them have figured there's something fishy going on with this case, not that they can do much."

She was still smiling, "Unfortunately there's not actually a lot you can do either, I advise you to retract your alibi statement, it will only cause trouble for you and won't change the verdict. They'll find you a new liason, and you can get on with building your Foreign Guard. Forget about me, I'll be fine."

That was a blatant lie, if Imro had been paying attention to current events in Dyelli Beybi, Alwood was looking at the death penalty, which wasn't 'fine' in most people's eyes, "I was wondering though if you could get a message to a friend of mine? Just tell him I'm in prison, his name is Otto Himmler."

Otto Himmler, the first High Chancellor after the Revolution, a former Intelligence Officer, now retired, coincidentally top of the Dyelli Beybian rich list due to large shares in DBFC, Helmut Cola, SSA and innumerable other major companies, "He's a bit reclusive, but if you mention you're a friend of mine you should get into the residence."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alwood would probably have pointed out the Armoured Cruisers lurking in the delta. Smith did not, he just ignored the ridiculous comment, "Of course."

He opened the back door of the car, "Unfortunately I'm not exactly certain where the Commisaar's residence is, do you perhaps kow the way?"

General Imro smiled '"Nonsense. I may not trust you, but I'm used to you. I'll see to it the lucrative Foreign Guard contracts go down the toilet and flood my base with North Germanian recruits before I abandon any of my soldiers."

Erdogan shrugged " It's an odd thing, in the Retaliatory Guard Generals and Command Generals are autonomous, answering only to the Supreme Republican Commander. General Imro has the power to back up his threat."

Imro nodded "I'll bury Prime Minister Collins in so much diplomatic shit, that he'll do anything to get me back on his side, or out of the country. I don't leave soldiers behind Commissar. You'll get out, one way or the other."

He paused and took out his satellite phone and pushed the 'encrypt' button and dialed.

"This is Imro, put me through to Ambassador Von Drackenfels, now." He paused and smiled "Otto Himmler?"

"Yes, Ambassador, lodge a complaint with Dyellian authorities, the liason they have assigned me is being hindered and I don't have the time or the patience for a new one, EVERYTHING is behind schedule and my liason was the only thing keeping these Dyellian contractors on the base and on the job. Cancel the tank meeting this afternon and get five hundred Thunderer Battle Tanks bought, paid for and on ships to here now. Also locate an Otto Himmler, give him a message and tell him that 'Alwood is in Jail'

No, I don't have time for questions, I will exlplain later. Yes I understand that you will have to clear it with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, oh and while you're talking to him, let him know that the Dyellians have acted in bad faith with me and I'm recommending that we either a.) move the base to Karmanyaka or b.) ban Dyellian recruits. Thank you Ambassador."

He turned back to Alwood "This whole Foreign Guard was an experiment anyway, if we flush it now, the Minister of Defence can happily tell the Council that a program that was put together by his predecesor did not work, as he predicted. "

He grinned, Vaadians weren't nice, friendly, understanding or compassionte. But they were loyal and principaled and they were prepared to ruin bigger things to make a point, to the Vaadians the ends do not justify the means , and they don't ally themselves with corrupt powers, even if it means losing out on bigger things.

*****

Ambassador Drackenfels sighed after speaking with Sir Alec, he was at dinner and didn't care what she did, he cavalierly announced that he could 'Fix any issue you can create with the Dyellians' .

She paused, poured a scotch and immediately put her staff to work getting her a number or a contact for Otto Himmler and filing complaints with the Dyellian Minister of Foreign Affairs and Prime Ministers office...........it was going to be a tough couple of weeks.

*****

Uncle Istvan had just had it with Smith "Yes of course, I know Cyro like the back of my hand. Are you trying to upset me Mr. Smith? Aside from Mister Collins and Dzerzhinsky every other 'Commissar' and 'Inspector' has been a little monkey in a suit dancing around giving me sarcastic remarks and shit eating grins."

He paused and pulled out his sidearm.

"Inpector Smith, I will to count to five, if you are still in my line of sight when I reach five I shall shoot you straight through the head. After which I will be boarding my ship and leaving."

He pauses, chambers a round and looks back at Smith "One................."

Uncle Istvan didn't tolerate the run around, he had shot his own officers in the field for such antics, killing a foreigner wouldn't bother him in the least, and he was tired of Dyelli Beybi and Dyellian Beybians.

Alwood looked positively insulted, "You still don't trust me? For the last God knows how long I've been bending over backwards for you, in more ways than one."

That comment had really hit a nerve, "Or is that perhaps something you reserve for all foreigners?"

She waited for the phone call to end. By the end she was even more upset, close to tears in fact "You honestly think Collins and Dzerzhinsky are behind this? You understand nothing, yet you're willing to undo months of my work in one phonecall. Don't you understand? If Felix comes down hard on them in here I won't survive the night, you have all the tact of a rhinocerous in the mating system, why don't you just shoot me now, you seem to think little enough of me and all the trouble I've been to for you and your damned Guard, and it would save my sister the bother."

She hadn't meant to say that, it had slipped out, she clapped her hands to her mouth as if trying to prevent any more slips of the tongue, a look of alarm crossing her face. It was really a very odd conspiracy. On the outside it looked all political, but on the inside it was all family.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Smith sniffed disdainfully, "You Sir, are in need of Professional help."

Nevertheless he heeded the warning, stepping into the car, and slamming the door exactly on the count of one. Istvan was clearly insane, drawing a gun on a man because he didn't know the address of every Police Officer in the city seemed quite extreme. It was also a move that a cool level headed man like Felix Dzerzhinsky would never understand.

Imro and Erdogan waited patiently for Alwood's outburst to end and then Imro replied calmly.

"Don't get upset now, there are only two people I trust, myself and Uncle Istvan. We aren't going to undo everything we've done, I'm just putting the threat into place. No matter what motivated this little vendetta against you, I'm going to play it as a political issue, I'm sure that if Mr. Collins and Mr. Dzerzhinsky believe that I think this issue is politically motivated that they will do something to at least get you sprung temporarily, and then we can work on the other issues.

Once everything I've just ordered goes into action, they'll panic because it looks like I'm panicking and we'll get something taken care of at least temporarily. Mr. Collins has staked a lot on this Foreign Guard, two press conferences and several phot-ops..............If he lets this die he has a lot of explaining to do, especially if I stop payment on everything that's been bought and simply skip town.

He's got a good amount of political capital tied up in this, and he won't waste it, if he's smart."

Colonel Erdogan chuckled "If he's not smart, he may try to have us all killed."

Imro shrugged "That's why you're here Colonel."

Erdogan was about to say something when his satellite phone rang he paused and answered it.

"Yes, yes. We are with Alwood now. In jail. Yes Imro is with me. I don't know. I'll let you know." he paused and looked at his phone and read off the GPS co-ordinates " Maybe, I'll see what Imro says. Good bye."

He hangs up and grins "Apparently they sent a Commissar Smith to meet Uncle Istvan , and well, he insulted Istvan and now he's angry, VERY angry. He has an extraction team standing by. If we want out, we will be out, but he wants to wait for your go ahead General."

Imro smiled broadly "Well, we'll get out of here one way or another. I should talk to someone about posting your bail."

They both politely ignored her slip about her 'sister' since she seemed upset by it. Vaadians were suprisingly and oddly polite about things like that.

*****

Uncle Istvan closed his phone and handed back to Assad. He was clearly insane (OOC: See! I told you!) and clearly very, very angry. He was insulted that he had been kept waiting , insulted that this new Commissar didn't have a clue what was going on, or where his people were, he was insulted that the new Commissar had been insulting and snide in reaction to his humor (Alwood hadn't) he was insulted that he, the most powerful man in the Free Republic, in personal command of over six million soldiers was standing on a pier in the blazing sun waiting for the Dyellians to get his act together.

He turned and headed back abord the Teztcatlipoca, growling at Assad as he did "Get my Jaguars ready, get all of the Marathons loaded and ready to go at a moments notice. They ae only a couple of minutes from here by plane, and if Imro asks, I'm going in and killing every single Dyellian I see. Call whoever is in charge of this mickey mouse country and tell them that I am leaving and that they can kiss the whitest part of my ass."

Assad just nodded quietly "Yes sir." She knew that when he was in this mood that his gun could be just as easily pointed at her.

Once aboard she readied the Red Jaguar and placed a call to the office of Chancellor Collins , not only did he now have an official complaint lodged from the embassy, but Retaliatory Guard Command was calling.

The Vaadians were not happy, they had cut ties with Knootoss and arrested all Knootians in Ilek-Vaad for 'treachery' that was much less than this, at least how they were prone to view it.

.
If your using Dyelli Beybi from discworld, then you've spelt it wrong it's Djeli Bebi.

OOC: Eldpollard, this is not the appropriate thread for your opinions on spelling. Please delete your post, or I'll ask the Moderators to delete it. Thank you.

(OOC: I know full well how Djeli Beybi was spelt in pyramids. However that is moot because 'Dyelli Beybi' is nothing like Terry Pratchet's Djeli Beybi. There was at the time of my creation a Djeli Beybi and a Djelli Beybi, so I swapped the j for a y, phoenetically it sounds just about the same. Anyway this is a RP thread... shoo!)

Alwood shook her head, "The bail hearing is tomorrow, the judge has probably either been bought or intimidated. I won't be granted bail."

She still didn't seem happy, but at least she'd calmned down, from her outrage, it seemed the success of the Foreign Guard meant quite a bit to her, "Collins won't do anything no matter how hard you poke him. He wants the judicial system to run separately from Parliament. Dzerzhinsky would step in, but like I said o you earlier, if he made a move I'd probably be found to have hanged myself in my cell before I was released."

The doom and gloom talk brought a dejected smile back to her face, "She wants me dead, and she's not going to let anything, even Felix get in her way. You know, I think I'm about ready to die anyway, it would make a lot of people happy."

The night before Wilson had decided she was seriously depressed. He was right.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Near the quayside, if anyone just happened to be watching downtown, it would become increasingly obvious that the Metropolitan Police were setting up a cordon around the Port.

It took a while for the call to get through to anyone at the Chancellor's Office, althoough eventually it went on to a rather gruff sounding Felix Dzerzhinsky, "Secretariat of the High Chancellor." he didn't introduce himself personally.

General Imro nodded solemnly "Well, if we can find out the judges price, I would bet that we could beat it? I don't want to pry too much , but if you have any solutions to your current predicament, I would love to hear them. I'm half tempted to let Uncle Istvan send in an extraction team.

Remeber anything that can be made can be destroyed and anything that can be destroyed can be rebuilt, so I wouldn't worry about the Foreign Guard if I were you, we can worry about fixing that later."

*****

Teztcatlipoca Fire Control had noticed the police cordon, Uncle Istvan was there and currently speaking with the First Republican.

"Two of my men are missing, the liason for the Foreign Guard is missing and was replaced by a fellow who seemed to make it a personal challenge to insult me and now the Dyellian authorities are cordoning off the docks.

I personally don't care what you do about it , but I have prepared an extration team of Red Jaguar and I am curently tracking Colonel Erdogan. I think that honesty and co-operation are the furthest thing from the mind of these Dyellians. Another case of a third world nation that will do anything on paper to get our money, but won't back up their promises with actions.

Tell the Minister of Defence that he needs to scren Foreign Guard nations better in the future, that is if it is allowed to continue. I also want you to call me back in exactly an hour with a ful promise that if me or my men are fired upon, that you will have for me a Military Mandate to deal with these barbarians as I see fit.

Istvan out."

He gave the First Republican no chance to reply. He would mobilize the Retaliatory Guard without a Mandate anyway.

He then awaited Erdogan's report and to hear from Seargent Assad.

****

Seargent Assad used her most honeyed tones when she greeted Dzerzhinsky

"Yes Secretary Dzerzhinsky is it? This is Staff Seargent Assad of the 1st Red Jaguar Command Adjunct to the Supreme Republican Commander. We seem to have a situation. It appears that liason to the Foreign Guard has been 'disappeared' along with General Imro and Colonel Erdogan.

Someone sent a replacement to escort myself and the Supreme Republican Commander to DBFC Automobile facilities and around Cyro apparently. This Commissar Smith, then took it upon himself to imply that he had no clue what was going on, where our friends were or where we may even be going and then proceeded to insult the Supreme Republican Commander's intelligence.

This is not the kind of behaviour we were expecting, especially after the welcome we received and the more than competent and polite guidance given us yesterday by the now missing Commissar Alwood.

Now, I don't care what has happened, but I must say that at this moment the Supreme Republican Commander is expresing his displeasure directly to the First Republican and is readying an extraction team to rescue our missing soldiers. I certainly hope that you are now going to re-assure me that this is not necessary and that you will do everything in your power to rectify this situation and to make sure that Commissar Smith is at the very least court-marshalled for his exceedingly insubordinate and disrespectful actions and that Commissar Alwood arrives here promptly, with General Imro and Colonel Erdogan as originally planned. Commissar Smith is exceedingly lucky that he was not shot on the spot for his actions.

The Supreme Republican Commander does not like chaos and does not take kindly to last minute changes of plan. This whole situation is entirely unacceptable."

She went right on, giving him no chance to answer until she was completely finished and simply talked over him if he butted in.

"And what would an extraction team do?" Alwood replied, "They'd presumably shoot their way through the Police Offices, I've never known you to consider anything subtler. You talk about cold maths, kill one civilian to save several, but you'd be working the other way around if you sent in an extraction team. Kill 30 otherwise innocent police officers and probably lose a few of your own men in the process to get me out, it doesn't make sense mathematically."

She shrugged, "And no I don't have a plan, Otto might think of something, but the truth is, I really don't care if they do kill me, I have so much blood on m hands, I probably deserve it."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"On what grounds am I supposed to Courtmarshall Commisaar Smith?" it was Dzerzhinsky's turn to launch into an uninteruptable diatribe, "For a Start he's a police officer, we could send him before a police tribunal but he'll get off with nothing more than a slap on the wrist when he points out he had a gun drawn on him."

"The truth is Sergeant, Cyro has thousands of Commisaars, all of whom are busy, Alwood got hauled in by the Metropolitan Police over something, they're interviewing her this morning, so my office had to scurry around and drum up a replacement with literally half an hour's notice, I apologise if they weren't briefed, but we have a very limited number of people available, hopefully you can understand that."

Dzerzhinsky was not using honeyed tones, in fact he couldn't quite understand how anyone could find the bland and uninteresting Commisaar Smith at all offensive, in fact he'd specifically sent him, thinking Alwood had probably been too emotionally volatile and prone to say something rash, "Look I apologise for what's happened today, but at this stage I would be overstepping my mandate as the Director of the Cheka if I tried to interfere in the investigations of the Metropolitan Police. While Dyelli Beybi has no defined constitutions there are very clear laws as to what I can and can't do, were I to go down to the Police Station and ask for her release, same goes for Mr Collins, the Super would be fully within their rights to tell me to 'burn in hell'."

"Furthermore, Alwood is being held over a suspicious death." he continued, "I cannot, in all honesty allow any Commisaar to start acting like they are above the law, it's only a small step from there to a Fascist Police State, and I am not going to allow that to happen in my country."

Of course Dzerzhinsky only had a rough idea of what was actually going on at the Police Station, not that he cared overly much, when the Alconians seemed ready to start a war over a few soldiers who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, he also wasn't particularly well inclined towards the Vaadians who were behaving like a tribe of enraged gorillas in the Gonad where they really had no business. He smelled a rat, it was begining to surface as a possibilty (albeit slim at this stage) that Alwood was wrong and the Vaadians were thinking of trying to assimilate Dyelli Beybi, "Maybe, Sergeant, if I wasn't having to try to work out why your Contry has decided to deploy so many ships so close to Dyelli Beybi, I might have more Commisaars to spare to lead your delegation around."

He sounded tired, "As I said earlier, I apologise for the inconvenience, I can get you someone else, but unless you propose I take over Parliament and proclaim myself Dictator there is nothing I can do about Alwood."

This time he did leave space for a reply, Ilek-Vaad seemed to be some form of Military Dictatorship in all but name, while the Vaadians in Dyelli Beybi swanned around like they owned the place. His thoughts certainly weren't conveyed in his voice, which had finally assumed it's usual polite mannerism, there was a clicking of a keyboard while he spoke, "I can get you a new Commisaar, an actual Military one, fresh back from overseas service, although they're not a fully trained liasion..."

He vaguely wondered if the Vaadians liked Alwood, then threw the thought away, that was ridiculous, last time he'd spoken to her she'd said that Imro seemed 'quite capable of grasping the massive cultural gap, but entirely unwilling to make any allowances for it', they were just being silly, he was sure it was nothing good dialogue couldn't smooth over, "I've told you where I stand anyway, I'm sure we can negotiate a way around this obstacle."

Erdogan smiled "The Extration team would be Red Jaguar. The Red Jaguar do not do casualty equations. But it isn't something I will call in, unless you request it."

General Imro leans back in his chair "We can sit tight for a while. I haven't got anything else to do today."

*****

Seargent Assad didn't sound perturbed and very patiently let Dzerzhinsky finish and then replied in her honeyed very relaxed and friendly tones.

"I'm very sorry Secretary Dzerzhinsky, but this situation is simply unacceptable. The Supreme Republican Commander was lead to believe that we would have the co operation of Dyelian Authorities. I am afraid to say that if I go back to the Supreme Republican Commander and give him your solution, I know that he will not be satisfied.

"I am afraid that at this point we are going to have to recommend to the Republican Council that the Foreign Guard in Dyelli Beybi be scrapped. It is simply not worth this aggrevation and risk to our officers to operate in such a climate of uncertainty and chaos.

As soon as Colonel Erdogan and General Imro are located we will be leaving. I will also arrange for the withdrawl of the current Foreign Guard recruits to Kordo, or possibly Karmanyaka, if a base is established there."

The Vaadians, as usual, where uninterested in anything but what they perceive as obstruction. If they felt somrthing was being done under the table or behind closed doors they did as they always did, called a spade a spade and headed for home.

OOC:

I was assuming this was before the Gonad stuff, Uncle Istvan retires after returning from DB and I have rped his replacement taking charge of all that.

"Ok, well maybe you just like shooting people and want an excuse." Erdogan's comment on not doing casualty equations didn't seem to have pleased her too much, "If you went and slaughtered a whole bunch of people on my behalf I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"Besides, where would I go, I wouldn't last long on the run." she continued, "In all honesty though, it is apreciated you coming down here, people don't usually bother much about me when it comes to the crunch."

A brief pause, "Ask me any question and I'll give you an honest answer."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Audible grinding of teeth could be heard over the telephone, "You're getting full cooperation. I'm the head of Intelligence, not the leader of a military junta, I cannot release people from police custody, it is outside my job description, I can kick up a song and dance over it, but I fail to see how it is in my best interests."

"If" the way Dzerzhinsky said it did not rule out the possibility, "I do kick up a fuss and the press gets word of it, it could bring down the Government, Chief of Intelligence leaning on the Police is not a good look. So far I have heard no compelling reason why I should put my neck on the line for that damned girl."

"If she's been involved in criminal activities I see no reason why I should try to get her released just because you don't want to have to deal with a new liason. In Dyelli Beybi, every citizen is expected to adhere to the law, if I am caught speeding I pay my fines, just like everyone else. I don't know how things run in Ilek-Vaad, but we're not in Ilek-Vaad, and I fail to see why should Dyelli Beybi set different rules just because someone is working for you? Do you think that somehow, because she's of use to you, her status is elevated above that of a normal citizen?"

"Give me a good reason and I'll gladly pursue the matter, but at the moment what I'm hearing is 'get Alwood released because the Supreme Republican Commander doesn't like new faces' which hardly seems to me a valid reason to attempt to pervert the course of justice."

Dzerzhinsky was furious, who the hell did they think they were? Making wholely unreasonable demands. Did they expect Dyelli Beybi to jump through hoops and release criminals just because some awful soldier demanded it (Dzerzhinsky had a generally low opinion of Military folk).

Genral Imro smiles "Well, yes, Erdogan does enjoy shooting people, and generally looks for any reason to do it. Most of the Red Jaguar are like that."

He paused for a second when she said she'd answer anything "Well, only one question leaps to mind. What is this all about and why? It's obvious you're being framed for something?"

*****

Seargent Assad responds nicely "I would have expected that if we were going to play 'musical commissars' that several things would have happened. First, it would have helped if we were actually notified, instead of finding out when we were actually preparing to leave. Second, we would have expected that the commissars who would be filling in would be briefed and prepared. Third I would expect that you, as head of intelligence, would have a better grasp as to where your commissars are, especially if they are being detained, and where able to give us details when asked.

Commissar Alwood is not just a Commissar but is the liason to the Foreign Guard, I would think you would at least have the details of her disappearance and the disappearance of our officers with her. I do think that this would be too much to ask, and would be the very least visitors to the Free Republic could expect.

I would also expect that the commissar sent would not be grossly incompetent, unprepared and insubdorinate. I don't understand why you would have sent someone so poorly equipped to deal with the situation and even more confused as to why you would send someone that is apparently allowed to act with gross negligence with impugnity? I can't believe that there is no way to punish this individual for his incompetence and the personal insults he made of the person he was allegedly sent to escort in your nation.

I can assure you, if heads of state or heads of military from Dyelli Beybi visited the Free Republic that if any such government appointed liason acted in such a manner, they would be quickly out of a job. I do not know how things work in your nation, but I would expect some accountability.

As I said, once our officers are located, we are leaving. That is unless we see some actual action on your part and some accountability of your officers. I'm sorry, but if this is 'full cooperation' then there is no point to us even being here, or the Foreign Guard being stationed here."

As she finished that statement, she clicked her mouse, canceling payment on all Dyellian contracts with the Foreign Gurad, even on goods and services already delivered.

"Oh." she laughed uncertainly, "That question."

"Ah, now how do I begin to answer that one?" she ran a hand through her hair distractedly, "You know how I told you a long time ago, that I killed my father? Well you see I had my reasons which I won't go into, but we'll just say he wasn't a particularly pleasant person. He was married though, not to my mother, she was just one of his serfs, well his wife also had a daughter, Caroline. When Commisaar Quentin's brigade overan the area I assumed she'd died and ended up tossed into the Sea to feed the salties. Apparently she hadn't though."

She laughed again, the laugh was self-mocking, "You might not know this, but the Cheka has a habbit of absorbing the former nobility and giving them a new identity. Well dear Caroline, or should I say Commisaar D'Etiene has sprung a nice little trap on me. She had some poor sod murdered, in a trademark 'Alwood' style. I wouldn't be surprised if she has the head of Six under her thumb, she certainly has enough resources at her disposal. The only problem for her at the moment is you two."

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"Look." Dzerzhinsky was begining to sound annoyed, "How can I punish someone without some description as to what happened. Evidently your story differs from that of Commisaar Smith, who tells me he inquired as to where your other Officers were and was threatened with a presumably loaded weapon. Saying he was insulting doesn't really cut it, I need facts."

"The reason you had an unprepared liason is because I had literally less than an hour to find one and send one out, I assumed it would be better you had a liason at all, rather than none."

"Alwood is being held in regards to a murder last night that had her name written all over it. She is being held in the Hornby Station, while they decide whether to press charges." he paused to let this sink in, "I cannot in all honesty allow my Commisaars to get away with murder."

"I apologise for not informing you in advance, it was an oversight on my part." he did sound genuinely apologetic on that part at least.

General Imro smiled "Well, that's not so bad. That hardly gives a way out of this. Surely your 'sister' has her weaknessess? What if the public found out about her aristocratic past? What if someone leaked it the press?"

Erdogan shrugged "Or maybe we should just talk to her and try and work things out. Revenge killings are pointless and just lead to further retribution, surely if she is clever enough to franme you, she may listen to reason."

Irmo turned and looked at Erdogan "You're suggesting a course of action that involves no killing?"

Erdogan shrugged "Kiling isn't always the answer, just most of the time."

*****

Seargent Assad pauses and clicks at her keyboard loud enough so that Dzerzhinsky can hear it, she decides now is the time to let him know where Imro and Erdogan are.

"Ah, I have just been informed by Colonel Erdogan that he and General Imro are at the station with Commissar Alwood. He has informed us that Alwood has been detained as a suspect in a murder and is under arrest because the foreigner that was with her last night has retracted his statement."

She pauses again

"He further says that this is a lie as the foreigner in question IS General Imro and not only has he NOT retracted his statement , but the investigators never took it. Erdogan also reports that he spent the night in Alwood's front room and also vouches for her. I also know that myself, Admiral Connacht and Uncle Istvan were at Alwood's residence until about three thirty am along with an Inspector Wilson.

Is that sufficent evidence for you to take action? If I were you I would send someone with sufficent authority to go and sort this out, immediately."

"If you can reason with her that might help." Alwood conceded, "Although I think she's quite willing to destroy herself in the process if that's what it takes to get rid of me."

She sighed, "It's one of those sad facts of life that one doesn't always see the whole story. To me, her, well our father was always a lecherous old rapist. To her he was a loving father, it's one of those sad facts of life someone's monster is someone else's best friend. If you destroy the monster you become that monster to someone else, it never ends."

It sounded like she empathised with her persecutor, "Caroline empathised with us up the bottom of the Social ladder. She was as I remember her a kind soul, any changes in her are undoubtedly my fault."

She shrugged dramatically, "Anyway, she's probably lurking around somewhere, she'll be quite unhappy to find out you managed to get in here."

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"Now that is failure to follow propper Police Procedure, and probably grounds to send in Four." Dzerzhinsky seemed to be paying attention now.

"I just need to know, are there any Cheka involved? If there are I'll need to deploy Seven as well. You see Sergeant, I am lost for information as to what my officers are up to unless they tell me, I'm just stuck in an office. I did get word recently though that Six had an unauthorised plan running, which seemed to serve no logical point apart from to remove an unspecified agent from One. Alwood is a One agent,this may be what we've been digging around for. Seven is quite eager to get their hands on any Commisaars involved."

'Seven' sounded sinister. Occasionally people wondered if the Cheka had any checks on it's power. They did, CSD-7. While it was theoretically a Cheka sub department, it was tasked entirely with rooting out problematic Cheka agents from the other sub departments.

General Imro nodded "Well maybe it would be worth a try. I can be very persuasive. I'll leave you and Erdogan here and I'll go talk to our Commissar D'Etienne."

He smiled and stood, Erdogan made way for him , he gave Alwood a wink as he stepped into the hall to find the Commissar.

*****

Seven sounded impressive and authoritarian, just what Assad wanted so she lied , partly "Yes , from what I understand thee is at least one Cheka agent there."

She assumed there was a Cheka agent somewhere in the station. She also thought that Alwood was a Cheka agent , so yes, there probably was. Assad was a convincing liar, she sounded no different from her normal soothing tones.

As it so happened D'Etiene was looking for him, just about walking into him in the coridoor. She needed no introductions, at first glass she was Alwood. Except Alwood was perhaps slightly taller, and didn't wear glasses, or a fringe in her hair, she gave Imro a hard look, fingering her sidearm as if wondering whether shooting him on the spot would be to her benefit.

Instead she extended a hand, "You must be 'the lawyer'?" her smile was cold and calculating, she would be judging Imro by what he did next.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alwood on the other hand was filling the silence with inane babble, "So what doi you do when you're not drinking heavily or killing people?"

Probably sleeping, stupid question, "Say..." she wanted something now, her tone of voice did nothing to disguise that, "You don't happen to have anything that could say, cut through steel do you?"

She hooked a thumb under the chain around her midsection, "Only I wouldn't mind loosing this, or the ones on my legs for that matter."

"Dangerous criminal." she gave an insulted frown, "I'm completely harmless."

It was a bit of a lie. She always tried to give off the image of someone who just sat about in an office all day. It was true she wasn't strong, but she was very fit, highly coordinated and had a lot more stamina than the average office worker (Imro could probably attest to most of that).

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"The whole thing doesn't make sense." Dzerzhinsky mused, "If this information is correct it means someone is out to get Alwood, someone from wtihin. She's generally well liked within the organisation. She's a bit moody, but generally quite gregarious and well... fun."

He sounded like a School Principal commenting on one of his students, "I'll have to contact the Chief of the Met to get their permission to move in, and to put an AOS unit on standby, just in case things turn nasty. Give me half an hour and we should have some results."

"Meanwhile why don't you write me some kind of draft on the conversation between you and Smith, which we can analyse at Benjia House. Is there anything else you wish to discuss at the moment?"

Dzerzhinsky was still vaguely wondering what all the keyboard tapping had been about.

Gneral Imro, always unpredictable, actually smiled nicely at D'Etiene and shook her hand.

"Well, I'm not really a lawyer, Judge Advocate General and Foregin Guard General. So I'm fairly qualified I would imagine. To crack this case anyhow."

He looked around suspiciously "Is there someplace we can go and talk in private?" He had noticed her indecently accosting her sidearm "I'd also appreciate it if you didn't shoot me. I've been shot several times in the past and I must say it never did agree with me."

He smiled again, putting of the charm that had netted him a couple alimony payments a month.

*****

General Imro shrugged "Praticing killing people, playing basketball, collecting stamps." he replied nonchalantly.

When she asked for something to loosen her chains he reached back under his coat and pulled out a pair of heavy duty cutters that would be ideal for clearing razor wire, cutting chains, cutting off fingers...........etc.

"I also have some C-4 on me, if that won't go through the chain." He said as he handed them to her "But that may cause some collateral damage."

*****

Assad had continued to type as she was now IMing her boyfriend, plus she thought it added an air of importance to the call.

"Very good, I will let you go then. I would imagine that if you sort everything out satisfactorily that I can convince the Supreme Republican Commander to forget all about Smith. I will be waiting to hear from you.

Thank you again Secretary Dzerzhinsky."

"I never shoot people unless I have to." D'Etiene assured Imro, she even sounded like Alwood, the family resemblance was unmistakable, they could almost have been twins, "I've commandeered an office just around the corner."

Indeed she had. It would probably be large if it didn't have metal filing cabinets against every wall. There was a desk with chairs either side but she didn't sit down, only waiting until she'd shut the door, before launching into her explanation of events, "I know what you're here for, you probably want me to let Commisaar Z. Alwood out. I'm not going to. You know that I invented the charges and you also know I pretended that you'd decided not to make a Statement so that I could forge forward."

She smiled, challenging Imro to rebuke her, "Do you know what though, I'm doing the country a favour by getting rid of her. Sure she may not have committed this murder, but she has killed so many other people it scarcely matters. People feel sorry for her because she's young, pretty and sleeps around, but I'm telling you, behind that mask beats the heart of a ruthless sadistic maniac."

D'Etiene was equally as attractive as her sister, and looked about the same age, but didn't flaunt herself as Alwood was somewhat prone to doing, "Retract your statement." she urged, "The whore isn't worth the bother."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Stamp collecting?" she gave a mischievous smile, "Now things are all beginning to come together. I've never really been that keen on the team sports, always preferred cycling."

"I think I'll give the C4 a miss for now I'm quite attached to my body" she rolled her eyes in mock disgust, "You're bloody lucky you didn't get searched when you came in here, or you'd have had all sorts of questions to answer, they might have even thought you were a suicide bomber."

Inwardly her suicidal side was wondering if C4 was a quick way to die. The chain they'd put around her wasn't designed to stand up to anything but human efforts, and the cutter were just what she needed, freeing herself in a matter of seconds. She very tidily coiled the chains up and left them on the floor, standing and stretching her back, "Thanks, it's good to be standing up."

She hugged Erdogan in a very Dyellian gesture of thanks, that mischievous glint was still present in her eyes as she handed the cutters back, "Thanks again, you would not believe how uncomfortable that chair is."

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"You're welcome." Dzerzhinsky was his usual polite self again, "I'll call you again once we have some form of resolution."

He put the phone down, leaning back in his chair and considering the problem for a moment, Alwood was a useless piece of flotsam, she did nothing another Commisaar couldn't do and was too well known to puther talents to use. She was though, popular, damn it, even he liked her. If negative things happened to her it would be bad for the Cheka's morale, and would upset the Vaadians. He still couldn't quite figure out why they had grown attached to her, personally he'd have thought she would have angered them greatly if Smith had done so.

It scarecely mattered now, he needed to get to the bottom of this and work out why CID and the Met had decided to throw out her alibi without talking to the alibi, it all smelled a little fishy and a lot like the work of a Cheka agent. Felix Dzerzhinsky swung into action, or more his hand swung to the speed dial on his telephone...

Imro couldn't believe his luck. His deviously strategic mind ran well ahead of where D'Etiene was and he quickly formulated a plan as she sped ahead with her confession. When she had finished he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his pen, he held it up like a microphone and spoke into it.

"That was Commissar D'Etiene." He then clicked it and smiled at her "MP3 pendrive. Bloody handy."

He replaced it into his pocket. "Now, I have only one concern. The Foreign Guard. Alwood has been indispensible and has helped in stonewalling contractors that had hoped to gouge me on their prices and has been an asset to me. I would like you to drop the charges so that she can resume her job. She's no danger to anyone under my thumb. Believe you me. When she ceases to be useful to me, I will be in touch.

But right now this is all very inconvienant for me. Besides I'm a bit of a ruthless sadistic maniac myself."

The pen was a bluff, BUT anyone that was briefed or familiar with Vaadian diplomats and their assistants would know that they always carry such pen drives (Like at the IMC conference etc.) they were indispensible to Vaadian diplomats and Ministry officials. So maybe the Military did too, but no Vaadian military officials had ever been observed interacting with foreigners, except when killing them, and it was well known that they recorded that with their Tactical Computers. Imro continued on as if her every word had been recorded , hoping she'd buy it.

"So, you help me, I don't bury you and eventually so long as you keep on my good side, Alwood will be yours in good time."

*****

"No I don't collect stamps, that was joke." He said without a smile or any comical inflection.

"If they had searched me, I would have armed the C4, I can be a suicide bomber if it suits me. I hope to die killing enemies of the Republic. I have dreams about it. It would be a shame after killing thousands to just die peacefully in my bed." He smiled as he said that.

Hugging Erdogan was a tall order, with his ceramite banded armour on he was too thick to really fit her arms all the way around, he probably could crush someone to death by falling on them. "Don't mention it. Imro seems to like you,I don't trust his judgement but who am I to come between him and his third wife?"

*****


Seargent Assad clicked her phone off and removed her headset she turned and smiled to one of the Fire Control Leftenants "Go tell Uncle Istvan to calm down, I think I have everything taken care of for now."

D'Etiene shrugged. Perhaps she was calling the bluff, or perhaps she felt that her actual spoken confession meant nothing, "I fail to see how that whore is of any use to you at all to you. She doesn't even have a High School education."

She was evidently coming up with her own plan though, something moved behind those cold blue eyes, "You can have her. She is though, legally my property, I think 500 Kronors is a very reasonable price for her."

She was speaking now as one of the all but exterminated nobility, "Also I want 10 minutes with her first, never fear I'm not going to damage her."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You'd have probably blown the General up as well if you tried that." she gave him a funny look, "And don't forget that they're actually on your side, they just don't know it."

"I think you do collect stamps." she teased, "Fits with the serial killer profile."

"You think your General likes me?" she laughed at that, although anyone with half a brain would have realised she was more than a little fond of Imro (for God alone knew what reason), "I'm far too foreign for him to see any prospect in, I'll wager you one hundred Kronors that the next person he proposes to will be a Vaadian."

General Imro smiled "No and no. My original offer is more than generous, especially considering the circumstances. My comrade , Colonel Erdogan, has already spoken with Seargent Assad who I am certain has already contacted the appropriate Dyellian authories, what are they called Seven?

So, you can do as I ask and when Mr. Dzerzhinsky's men show up I can tell them at it was all a huge misunderstanding and that you were actually very helpful in clearing it up, or we can tell them what really happened and you'll never have another shot at Alwood again."

If she could tell he was bluffing before, he certainly wasn't bluffing now. "I can wait, I have plenty of time. Besides, I've got al the cards, so, go fish."

Imro enjoyed playing hardball, especially when it wasn't his neck on the line!

*****

Erdogan shrugged "I wasn't adopted, I never wet my bed and I never tortured small animals. I may be homicidal, but I'm no serial killer."

He shrugs again "The only people on my side belong to Retaliatory Guard, eveyone else is simply an enemy in training. General Imro likes all women. He gets married just to be married. I never did understand it."

D'Etience laughed. It was harsh and derisive, "How can I trust you fremder Teufel? You must think I'm completely stupid if you think I'm going to release her to you without any guarantee you'll keep your word. I've dealt with your sort before, you have no intention of ever keeping your word, if you did you would see no problem with my ten minutes. So make me a better offer."

Her hand had strayed down to her sidearm again. She rightly or wrongly assumed that Imro would try vioence next.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Thats a very simplistic way of thinking." Alwood scolded, "No wonder you're not a diplomat. By that theory even your own citizens are enemies of the Republic, meaning 'the Republic' is the Retaliatory Guard."

Maybe she could have been a lawyer in another life.

General Imro smiled "Well, Commissar, I can only tell you that I make it a point to keep my word. I'm not really concerned about whether you believe me or not."

He nods to her sidearm "You can either shoot me, or believe me, either way you might be hanging yourself. I don't care about you vendetta with your sister, like I said, pursue it when it is more convienant for me and I won't do anything one way or the other. If you make a bad choice now, you may lose your chance at revenge forever.

You might say it's not about personal revenge. But it is , I can see it in the way you talk about your sister, the look in your eyes, the fact you wouldn't even say her first name. So whatever you decide think about first. "

He folded his arms and waited.

*****

Erdogan nods "The Republic IS the Retaliatory Guard. I wonder what's taking Imro so long? I haven't heard any gun shots?"

"I never said it wasn't personal." D'Etiene looked amused, "I don't like the 'when I'm done with her clause' that has too much of a time frame to it. I'll let you get away without paying the money and without letting me alone with her. I will let you have her."

There was a pause, left with deliberate intent to let Imro think he'd won, "Within seven days you will give her an item of jewelery, I have studied my quarry for years, she will keep it, and she will wear it. In it, I will have a tracker. If you don't, she will die. If you try anything funny, she will also die. To make things more interesting, and because you have upset me, if you don't go along I'll make sure you're with her when she dies. Shall we call it a deal? You're not getting anything better."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well you know" Alwood was grinning, "He might be trying negotiation, rather than gunboat diplomacy. Or he might have found he can't yell at people until they obey him all the time."

Imro smiled broader at D'Etiene "Oh, now you're threatening me too? It's funny, we Vaadians don't respond well to threats. In fact we become even more intransagent when threatened, some sy downright obstructive. I don't think you can kill me. Even if you drew your gun now and shot me, I can guarantee that you would still end up getting the worst of it."

Imro stopped smiling and took a step closer, looking down at D'Etiene with his dark Lassean eyes. "I've been killing trained, motivated well equipped enemy soldiers for over forty years now. I've been shot no less than four times. I've completed hand-to-hand courses that you would even shudder to watch a training session. The Retaliatory Guard is a meritocracy. I am a General because I am faster, stronger and more motivated that one and a half million other men."

He looked very angry now and he slowly let his arms down to his sides "You can't kill me here, you can't kill me when I leave. The only thing that will kill me is time. If you don't mind, I will return to my client and we will discuss our strategy on how best to dispose of this caes, legally. Your facist jack-booted tactics may normally work in Dyelli Beybi, but they won't while I'm around."

*****

Erdogan shrugged "Actually I would've assumed she would have shot him by now. One of his ex-wives stabbed him with a steak knife.He can sometimes bring out the worst in people."

D'Etiene did not look in the least bit impressed, "And why would I kill you? You don't frighten me in the slightest, you're not worth the ammunition."

"To quote that aweful cliche, I know that 'the game's up'." She gave a tight lipped smile, "Agree to my scheme or not, you have a week to think it over. You can take your little whore out of the Station now, do whatever it is you plan to do with her. Personally I don't understand what people see in the Godawful b!4ch."

She stepped away opening the door for Imro, signalling the discussion was over, "Just remember, you have seven days to comply. After that..." she snapped her fingers, "She dies, preferably when you're there to watch."

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"This is Dyelli Beybi, as crooked as she may be." Alwood explained, "She can't just shoot Imro because she's annoyed, or the Met, who already don't seem to like her much, would arrest her."

Imro simply shook his head "I feel sorry for you. The only thing that you have to cling to is revenge, and for what? To avenge your degenerate rapist father? That is truly sad. I am certain that there is a special place in hell for him, and you seem to be awful eager to join him."

He then walks back to the interrogation room.

*****

Erdogan shrugged "I would have egged her on to shoot me if I was in there, just so I could kill her in self defence.........."

He paused as his satellite phone rang. "Erdogan here."

He then just listened for a long minute or two and then hung up "Very good Seargent."

He turned back to Alwood "Seargent Assad has been in touch with Secretary Dzerzhinsky and relayed what is going on here. Here is sending Four and Seven. I don't know what those are but Assad seemed confidant that they will resolve the situation.

So, if Imro hasn't settled things, then it looks like your authorities will."

D'Etiene didn't reply to Imro as he left. If he returned to the office he'd find she'd vanished like smoke, along with several other Commisaars who'd been working along with her.

In fact what had happened is they had ducked out the back, just as a pair of Dzerzhinsky's men had come in the front and begun making less than discreet inquiries as to what exactly was going on. Most fingers in the Station were pointing at a certain Commisaar D'Etiene who had managed to rub the Met evidently did not like barging into their Station, none so vocal as 'Detective Inspector Exley' from CID, who was enraged that a Commisaar from Six had stolen his case.

In the interview room Alwood gave a wry smile, "You're very confident of your abilities."

She didn't comment further, for at that moment the door to the interview room opened again, it was the same skinny girl who had shown Imro and Erdogan in to start with. She looed surprised to see Alwood standing, but didn't comment, "This is all very irregular, but we've just got a call from upstairs, apparently they're dropping charges, you're free to go."

"Well that was quick." Alwood was grinning broadly and happily, her previous gloomy mood seemed to have lifted at least temporarily, "Of course I could have dealt with the problem myself, but thanks anyway."

Erdogan nodded as Imro came back in "I've never met anyone I couldn't kill."

Imro looked around as the skinny girl let them go "Are you sure we can go? I have plenty of dirt on D'Etiene?" he pauses and looks over to Alwood "D'Etiene said you're going to die in seven days. I wonder how she could know that? Must be psychic?"

Imro shrugged and patted Alwood on the back "Now, let's go fix the Foreign Guard."

"I'm not the right person the speak to about that." the girl replied, then scurried off, probably worried someone would try to get her to take a statement anyway. One of the AOS OFficers had Alwood's personal effects, which she claimed back will a quick word of thanks.

Alwood didn't look in the least concerned about D'Etiene's threat, "So be it, surprised she didn't try now actually. Shall we leave? This room is boring."

The Met made no attempt to stop Alwood, Imro or anyone else, one went as far as to apologise, "Sorry about that, but you know how it is..."

"Just doing your job, I hear Seven are in?"

"Front Office actually, although there's a few of the buggers wandering around looking for that D'Etiene character, seems she's vanished into thin air. Say, did anyone ever mention she looks a lot like you?"

Alwood laughed, she sounded both happy and relieved, patting the Policeman on the back amicably, "All the time, all the time."

They were stopped again, at the entrance, by a man in a dark suit. He looked fairly unremarkable, but the ear/mouth piece gave him away as some form of Government Official. He flashed a badge at Alwood, "We'll need to speak to you later, and probably the Vaadians as well, but for now, go and get some rest. I'll ring if we need anything."

"My number isn't listed..."

He smiled, one of those annoying all knowing smiles, "It is on our database."

That ended the second conversation, he didn't seem in the mood to talk, chasing off after a police officer, who presumably knew something, "Out of curiosity General, was this your doing? Getting me out of gaol and all, because it looks like I'm enormously in your debt."

There wasn't a car outside, so Alwood used her newly reclaimed cellphone to get one sent over.

General Imro smiles as they walk outside "What am I doing? Ensuring the success of the Foreign Guard. Having my liason to the government of Dyelli Beybi enourmously in my debt is a good start. You shall be very useful to me Alwood, very useful indeed."

Erdogan chuckles "Well, for the next six days anyhow."

Imro shrugs "We'll burn that bridge when we get to it. Now we should get to the Tetzcatlipoca and see what sort of chaos is going on there."

Erdogan smiles "The Red Jaguar are on alert and the Dyellian authorities are cordoning off the area. Uncle Istvan threatened to shoot Alwood's replacement. Needless to say you don't have any appointments this afternoon."

Imro simply nods "That sounds about right. If I know Seargent Assad she probably made some threats and stopped some payments we need to deal with. Nothing we can't handle."

"I'm always very useful to you General." Alwood said sincerly, "I make things happen for you."

Suddenly and inexplicably she broke into one of her broad grins. It was because she'd picked up inuendo in her otherwise innocent comment, but the Vaadians weren't to know that, "Ah yeah, what was I saying, Six days? Where are you going? Oh..."

The thought of dying in some unpleasant manner had the very predictable effect of sobering her mood, she considered the problem for a moment then shrugged unconcernedly, "I guess we'll just leave things to fate, I'm not going to run or to hide."

The car arrived, shortly thereafter. It was a limousine this time, the driver opened the door, letting the trio into the cool interior of the vehicle and out of the boiling Cyro air, "Well we'll find out what happened when we get to the docks. No use worrying about it now. I'm just wondering if I should be flattered that he threatened to shoot my replacement, or expecting him to shoot me."

Alwood shrugged, she had become quite fatalistic, "Doesn't really matter I guess."

The car pulled up by the police roadblock at the docks. The place was crawling with Metropolitan Police, with a few AOS Officers to make up the difference. There was a quick discussion, then it was waved through.

The Tetzcatlipoca was literally crawling with Red Jaguar, watching the Dyellians very closely, transports jets and Artemis attack jets were ready on the 'multi-purpose' deck. The Tetzcatlipoca was ominously ready for something. The Red Jaguar had even posted pickets down on the dock, in battle gear. Erdogan approached them first and raised his fist in defiant salute.

"Leftenant, I thought you were suposed to assisting Admiral Connacht in preparing to investigate the Gonad."

Leftenant Ramirez saluted back "I was sir, but Uncle Istvan has called that off. No more aid to the Dyellians."

Erdogan nodded and Ramirez continued "He also has ordered that once you are aboard that we are to prepare to leave. Oh, and he wants to speak with General Imro."

Erdogan nodded and headed aboard, General Imro followed "Well, this ought to be fun." Imro stated quite laconically.

Alwood wondered if following Imro was a good idea or not. It seemed things were getting heated, and her intrusion might cause unwanted effects. If there were this many planes ready on the Vaadian side, the airstrips around Cyro were almost certainly ready to field an even greater number, while the coastal batteries were probably on standby as well. Unless the police really thought they could handle a possible outbreak of violence on their own...

She was also acutely aware that she was unarmed, and the Vaadians didn't seem to be the kind of people who liked taking prisoners, meaning that if someone started shooting, she was as dead as she would have been if she'd stayed in the police Station, it was all very stressful, "Looks like it's out of the frying pan, into the fire." she remarked, "If you think it's sensible, I'll just stay here."

Otherwise she'd follow, "Don't want to cause any problems for you."

Imro turns and raises and eyebrow "Oh? I save your life and now you run out? I should've let D'Etiene have you and taken her as my liason."

He smiled and chuckled "You see if you can't get your fellows back there to go on home, I'm sure that's what Uncle Istvan will do, unless he's hindered or threatened. Convince your fellows that it is in eveyone's best interests just to let it go."

With that he headed aboard the Tetzcatlipoca.

"Hey I said if you thought it was sensible." she gave Imro an innocent look, "After all, if your Boss shot me it would be a very poor return on your investment. You havn't made use of me at all yet, and you went to all that trouble."

"Caroline wouldn't have made a good liason, she's not used to working under people." she gave an exasperated growl, "Everything that comes out of my mouth... I'll see if I can get them to leave, I might be able to convince some of them to, but really it will probably require you lot to stand down first, they're not going to want to be caught with their pants around their ankles."

She went in the opposite direction, back towards the roadblock. If she tried to convince the police cordon to leave, she certainly wasn't succeeding. If anything it was getting thicker, with more AOS arriving on the scene along with a Company of Bersaglieri or 'Stormtroopers' as they were frequently referred to. It was the problem faced when your liason was only a Police Inspector, higher ranked Officers always knew best.

General Imro and Erdogan boarded the Tetzcatlipoca and were met immediately by Seargent Assad. "Well, welcome home boys. Ramirez radioed up that you wee on your way."

Imro nodded "He was right. So, what you done to my Foreign Guard?"

Assad smiled "nothing, stopped payments, put everything on hold."

Imro nodded again "So, it's over?"

Assad shook her head "No, Uncle Istvan wants you to make that determination. Everything is back in your hands , now that we know you are safe. Do what you want with a free hand, just remember that Uncle Istvan is going to ask the Minister of Defence to review the situation in a month."

Imro nodded "And all of you?"

Assad smiled "We're leaving,Uncle Istvan isn't happy and the best way to get him to stop thinking about it is to put miles between him and here."

Imro shrugged "Sounds fair. Talk to you in a month then."

Several minutes later Imro came back down the gangway and the Re Jaguar Pickets filed back aboard and the Tetzcatlipoca prepared to weigh anchor and get underway.

Alwood had wandered out onto the pier. The police were begining to dismantle their cordon now that the threat of foreign invasion was passing, "Well that was interesting." she said, summing up the Supreme Republican Commander's visit, "I see you've left your chaperone on the ship."

She gave him a sideways smirk, "So tell me, what's the damage? Am I going to be spending the next six months fixing the guard or is it beyond salvage?"

She watched the ship for a while, then sighed as if the whole situation had become too much for her to properly comprehend, "I need some lunch. Are you hungry?"

"Well, Uncle Istvan is going to leave it entirely in my hands. We have some payments to uncancel, and I think that I will be purchasing tanks from Jaguar-Daimler, that will sufficently tee off your people and make Uncle Istvan happy.

The Minister of Defence will review the situation in a month and we'll go from there."

He paused as Alwood asks about lunch "Yeah, that sounds fine to me. I don't think we'll do any good hanging around here. What do you intend to do about D'Etiene and her death threat?"

As they talked the Teztcatlipoca got underway, without a call to any Dyellian authorities.

The ship was trailed to the harbour mouth by a pair of Dyellian monitors, which for all intents and purposes looked like floating islands, they had just about no freeboard, only a single turret and had been decorated with shrubbery and camouflage netting by their crews. After the harbour mouth, a Squadron of Scout Cruisers took up the shadowing where they would remain until the Vaadians left Dyellian waters.

"It will look bad for me." she said in respect to the tanks, but didn't sound overly concerned.

She began to stroll back towards the rapidly vanishing police cordon, there were press snooping around now, apparently this whole face off was quite interesting for the media, "As for Caroline's death threat, I intend to do nothing. I'm not going to let her control how I live my life. I'm not going to play her little games."

She stopped when they reached the car, leaning against it, "Got any preferences for lunch, because if you don't I'm just going to lose this."

She patted the roof of the car, "And get something from a street vendor."

"I could do with the walk." she confessed, "I need to clear my head, there have been so many surprises today."

"You mean you aren't going to try and plot to kill her to beat her to the punch of killing you? I was expecting to be amused for the next seven days."

He shrugged as she suggested a steet vendor for lunch "That sounds good to me. You could use the walk, yo're starting to look a little out of shape."

He smiled and set off down the street.

"You hear that? Off you go, call it a holiday." She spoke to the driver, "I'll call if we need you."

She rounded on Imro, "Out of shape?" she sounded scandalised, but the familiar sparkle of humour was in her eyes.

"I could run you ragged General." she boasted, "You're not young enough to hack the pace anymore."

As she set off, her mind turned back to the matter of Caroline 'Diettiene', "Well I could waste my time plotting to kill her, but firstly I have no idea where she is. If I was her, I'd have gone into hiding now."

She wasn't setting a particularly brisk pace as they moved out of the port into one of the commercial areas of town. Shops of all descriptions lined the sides of the road, an increasing number of people were on the street. Most gave Alwood a fairly wide berth, it was something to do with the uniform, "And secondly" she concluded, "We may have our differences, but she is still my sister, and I'm not going to hurt her... she's probably bluffing anyway."

She stopped outside a hot food store, with a counter that faced directly onto the street. It sold the usual assortment of suspicious looking meat pies, although Alwood, never a huge eater, was quite content with a small pot of hot chips. She loitered out front, wondering if Imro was actually going to order anything, "If you think that's a bit dull, I'm sure I can liven up your life in plenty of other ways." she said with feigned innocence.

General Imro chuckled "The only thing running me ragged is your innuendos and double entendres."

"What about your friend Himmler? What is he going to do?" He asked as they walked "You know she wanted ten minutes alone with you. For what, god knows, she certainly seems to dislike you , I wouldn't put killing you past her."

He paused at the stand and ordered a couple of the less suspicious meat pies and chips and something to drink that was preferrably sealed in a factory somewhere "You know, I don't think these street vendors would do so well in the Free Republic."

Alwood smiled and laughed, "It gives me something to do. Sometimes I don't even intend it and they just come marching out. I just can't control my mouth, it's a terrible problem sometimes."

"As yes, Otto. He's getting on a bit, but in his prime he was quite the hit man." she had adopted a far off look, "He was always a bit like the father I never had, I might pop around and see if he can't track Caroline down. If she's in prison she can't cause any trouble."

"I'm sure she's bluffing." Alwood reassured Imro, "Could you imagine one of your daughters seriously trying to wipe their sibling out? It's not natural."

She was lying of course, she knew full well that D'Etiene would try to kill her, but she didn't want Imro to worry, he had far too much else on his plate, without getting drawn into a bitter Dyelli Beybian family feud.

"They're moderately hygenic most of the time" Alwood had switched to a valiant defence of her native street vendors, "They're very hygenic when a health inspector comes through. Anyway they wouldn't have sold you anything too dodgey, you're with a Commisaar, we're feared members of society."

She rather slowing ate the chips as she walked, binning the empty carton in one of the many public rubbish bins. By this stage the city was probably becoming familiar. They were getting close to Alwood's apartment, "I'll see Otto tomorrow, you got anything you urgently want done right now?"

"I think I deserve a break for half a day, getting arrested is a very traumatic experience. In some countries I could get off work for the next year and keep on visiting the councilor complaining about panic attacks. Lucky for you though I have a good work ethic... you'll need to reverse those payments though before I start nagging any contractors. I wouldn't be surprised if they start demanding a deposit before they do any more work."

"Half the day off? You weren't even tortured? Now you're just malingering." He said half seriously "You've had more time off this week than I've had in my life."

He shrugged "Well, at least call me a cra so that I can get back on base and start loosening some of the screws that Seargent Assad started to tighten. You should really call Mr. Himmler and inform him that you are no longer in jail."

Imro snorted "Half the day off indeed."

"It takes a couple of hours by helicopter to get up there. You won't be there until long after nightfall if you take a car. I'll try to rustle up a helicopter, and I'm coming with you. You need the diplomatic tounch, so therefore you need me." she gave Imro a long-suffering look.

"Otto will already know I'm out." she said mysteriously, "He's quite pally with Felix, so no doubt they've been communicating, what with all the fuss you and your lot kicked up."

She was as good as her word, and organised a helicopter flight up the Coast as soon as they had returned to the flat. Pouring out a scotch for Imro, without asking whether he wanted it, then busying herself tidying the place up a bit from the night before. The car arrived shortly afterwards, driving the pair out to the a helicopter pad on Parliament island. This one was actually a propper passenger one, where you didn't have to yell above the sound of the rotors, and a lot smarter on the inside. It had a minibar, and leather upholstry, not to mention the television. Even before seeing the other passenger, Alwood had began to speak, "I was going to come to see you tomorrow..."

"I know, good to see you're well Zara." the speaker spoke without a trace of a Dyellian accent, his intonation crisp and polite. He was a slightly built man, probably in his late fourties, wearing a smart business suit. A discarded leather jacket lay on the seat next to him, along with an ornamental cane. Unusually for a Dyellian he was blue eyed, with short, crew cut blonde hair.

"Otto Himmler." he introduced himself, "And this would be General Imro, the Vaadian."

He smiled politely, "I heard you were going to a certain Foreign Guard base, and thought you might like to borrow my helicopter for the ride up. And of course, I have a few questions I'd like answered, and figured this was as good a time as any."

General Imro smiled and chuckled "So much for the day off...................is this meat pie alligator?"

He went along with Alwood to the actual helicopter and climbed aboard, a bit leery. "Ah, Mr. Himmler. I've heard so little about you. What questions do you need answered, I'm not telling you anything top secret, unless I can kill ou right afterwards. Then I'll answer anything. Oh and nothing personal."

He said with a smile as he got comfortable.

The pie wasn't alligator... it was crocodile, for all the difference that made.

Himmler gave a blank stare, "No, I don't want to ask you questions, although feel free to help yourself to the drinks, there is a Scotch in there, Johny Walker Black Label."

The helicopter began to take off, although the cabin on this one was sufficiently well sound proofed that the whirling of the rotors hardly disturbed the conversation, it was an entirely custom job, and must have cost a small fortune. Himmler's attention was more or less entirely set on Alwood, "You were arrested and framed by a Commisaar D'Etiene?"

She nodded.

"Otherwise known as Caroline ab Ieuaf?" he inqired.

She nodded again.

He laughed, it was a short laugh completely lacking in mirth, "I thought you said she was dead, not working for the Cheka?"

"I thought she was. She didn't look too healthy last time I saw her." Alwood responded perhaps a tiny bit bitterly, "But she's alive and kicking now, and after my blood... Don't hurt her Otto."

He smiled, a benign smile, the kind of proud father would give his daughter, "You've grown from a very angry girl into a compassionate woman. It's a change for the better. You seen Trish around recently?"

It seemed to be turning into a big spy reunion, "No, thought she was in some Banana Republic doing field work?"

He shook his head, "Nope, she's been back a week, she'll definitely be calling you after the little debacle with your sister... One thing puzzles me though, why did she let you go? She doesn't seem stupid, but she had you more or less at her mercy."

She nodded towards Imro, her tone flippant and careless, "I think he annoyed her. Apparently she's given me seven days reprieve to live or something."

Himmler frowned, "That's serious Zara. She means business."

Alwood smiled, shaking her head, "She's bluffing. She won't hurt me I'm her sister."

"Yes she will." Himmler insisted, "You'd be stupid to think otherwise, she must have spent weeks, if not months planning this, do you think she did it all as some kind of insane practical joke? Back me up here General."

For the first time Himmler was including Imro in the conversation, he continued "And while you're at it, you might like to explain exactly what went on when you met her. I'm still trying to piece this puzzle together, and I've long had the impression Zara has a very cavalier attitude to her personal safety."

"It's not like I matter." she explained darkly.

Imro feigned disappointment as Himmler announced he wasn't interested in asking him any questions. "Oh I see."

He then just sat back and enjoyed the ride and pretended not to listen to the conversation. He hmmed as Himmler returned to him. "Oh I think she'd definetly kill Alwood here."

He then gave a brief synopsis of his encounter "Well, she tried to convince me that I should just give up Alwood to her and try not to think about it. I then explained how useful Alwood was to and told her that she could have Alwood when I was finished with her. She then wanted ten minutes alone with Alwood , and I again said no, and then she stated that Alwood would be dead in seven days and that she hoped that I would be there to watch, or die with her.

She doesen't like Alwood at all and made some very impolite remarks about her, I then made some rude remarks about her father and she left. Mind you I've heard many a threat in my life time and she seemed serious about it.

I think that it might be wise for Alwood to stay on base for the next week or two."

"Nonsense." Alwood put in before Himmler could say anything, "Its my job to keep you out of trouble with the locals, and I'm going to stick by you, no matter where you go. Like my sister said, liasons are two a penny, if you ask them nicely they might even hook you up with some pretty blonde."

"Don't be ridiculous." Himmler shot back at her, "I think you'd surprise yourself. Your funeral would be remarkably well attended."

She seemed about to make some unhappy retort, but the retired politician held up a hand, "Of course in one respect you are right, as long as she's at large you're in danger and you can't skulk around the Foreign Guard base forever, you need to wait until I formulate a plan to trap her, unless you have a plan General? I think you'd agree we do have the perfect bait."

"I'm bait now am I?" she didn't sound like she liked that description.

"You're probably the only thing that will lure her out." Himmler pointed out with his usual crisp tone, "We could wait for months until the police track her down, or we could try to trap her ourselves, and you know, even if the General doesn't, that I do have considerable resources."

The helicopter was coming into land. The trip had been remarkably fast for a helicopter.

(OOC: I'll let you RP what you want the base to look like)

General Imro shrugged "I'm only trained at military planning, so unless an invasion is in order, I don't think I've got anything. I don't think there is anyone that I could contact that could find her."

He smiles "I'm sure she'll show up in seven days. I doubt she'll go for a ranged assassination, she seemed to want to get up close and personal to let you know who was kiling you and why."

He shrugs and looks out the window "Revenge is such a poor excuse for murder, it smacks of weak character and unstable mind."

Alwood visibly stiffened although the comment didn't sound like it was aimed at her, "I'm going to go and speak to some of the contracters." she sniffed, then opened the door of the helicopter and stormed off across the compund.

"Of course the question is." Himmler continued as if she hadn't just stormed off, "How important is that deadline to her? I know if it was me I would probably strike on five rather than seven, when the enemy was unprepared."

Abruptly though he changed tack, "I wa really quite surprised when they put her as a liason. I would have said she was far too touchy and unprofessional, not that I don't like her, I just thought te job wouldn't suite her... and apparently you see something in her as well or you wouldn't have sprung her from prison."

"Anyway, are you staying here, if so you might want to send Zara back, so I can get her keys off her and get some of her stuff sent up here. If you're not staying there's no point, I don't think the combined hordes of Ghenghis Khan could hold her here." he didn't seem the slightest bit interested in snooping around the base.

General Imro didn't seem to mind the storming off, far too many women had stormed out on him for him to be much affected by it now. He smiles and shrugs

"Alwood doesen't seem to care about the deadline and her own life. Hell, had D'Etiene threatened me directly , I wouldn't have let her leave the room. I would imagine that something needs to be done."

He simply smiles as he stands to get out of the helicopter "Alwood is predictable, from the first I met her she seemed certain of her course and her actions. I simply need to see what course she has determined and mold it to fit my plans. Nothing is better in a subordinate than predictability.

I'll send her back to drop off her keys. I'm going to go yell at some recruits."

He departs the helicopter and roars "Alwood! Mr. Himmler would like a parting word with you."

"She suffers from depression brought on by guilt." Himmler explained, "She is unable to comprehend that not everyone despises her for what she did, and is far too proud to ever go to see a professional."

He smiled sadly, "Eventually she'll destroy herself, it's a pity, she has a good heart behind the mood swings and coquettishness... I'll see what I can do about D'Etiene, whatever we do I wouldn't advise going back to Cyro. If you're in Cyro you're effectively in her territory, she can strike when and where she wills, force her to come to you. I'll send word when I figure something out."

Alwood turned slowly, she didn't look like she particularly wanted to listen to Imro, but obeyed him anyway heading back to the helicopter to exchange a few quick words with Himmler and (rather reluctantly) hand over her apartment keys. There was a pause where she rattled off a list of what he should bring up, at which point he gave her a mocking salute and departed.

As the helicopter began taking off she appeared next to Imro again, the bad mood gone as quickly as it had come, falling in one step behind him and just off to his right, "Out of curiosuty, do you have quarters for your Liason Officer?"

It sounded like an entirely innocent question... but this was Alwood talking.

General Imro shrugs "we'll have to see, I'm not sure what quarters are entirely habitable. The Officers Quarters should have room for you."

He paused and looked down at her "I realize who and what you are.You may have killed for revenge in the past. You may have suffered from weakness of character. BUT, I need you here. I need you to help me and I need you to resolve your issues with the past and have the strength to move ahead. Make peace with your past.

We've all done horrible, regrettable things. We have a choice of reliving the past and allowing it control over our lives and emotions, or of moving ahead and making up for all of the horible things we've done."

He straightens up and looks out over the base "I know that I will never be a proper father to my daughters, it's too late, but I can support them and at least be there for them as much as I can.

You can never be a proper sister to your sister. Many things conspired against that and still do. You can help break the cycle of revenge. I think that you can find your sister if you need to, if you don't want to kill her, then you and her need to work it out."

He shrugged and started to walk "Whatever you decide, let me know, I'll be glad to help."

Alwood looked positively stunned by Imro's talk. It had come completely out of the blue for her, and if Himmler had intended it to come, he was winging his way back to Cyro by now. She just stared at him for a moment, completely lost as to what to say.

"Look at me." she demanded eventually, "Do you see someone capable of destroying lives out of a misplaced sense of revenge? I certainly don't when I look in the mirror. The problem is though that other people do. When people look at me, they see a killer, a spy, someone who's dangerous and must be watched carefully. How can I forgive myself when others cannot forgive me?"

"When I was arrested, when they promised to kill me there was a part of me that was glad. I long to be able to start again, to go overseas, to blank the book, but I can't, I have no education and no skills beyond what I use in my job. This is all I can be, a slave to the State, at least until the Cheka is done with me, at which point I assume my enemies will move in for the kill."

She smiled sadly, standing up on the tips of her toes to kiss the General lightly on the cheek, "Thanks for caring though and not just asking Felix for a new liason."

"Don't start thinking I'm going to let my personal issues interfere with my work. I will, as always work with you to the best of my ability." she promised, "As for my sister..."

She shrugged, "She'll find me and I will make me peace with her. Whether that peace is made by words or through the muzzle of a loaded gun is her decision. Either way it will break the cycle of revenge, there is nobody to avenge me."

General Imro chuckles "Well, I don't expect you to ask anyone for forgiveness. There is only one person who needs to forgive you and that's you. Everyone else can go to hell."

He starts to head to his office "Go and call your tank manufacturers, tell them that they can schedule another meeting, if they cut their price by ten percent, if they can't, invite them to come down and watch us unload our Thunderer Battletanks from Coventry."

He then heads to his office to find a D'reg that is fluent equally in Arabic and English.

"Alright then." she flicked a quick salute, which looked polite, but might well have been mocking, considering that Alwood never saluted anyone, then vanished back into the interior of the Facility to look for a telephone and an office of some sort.

Idly she wondered how her Police rank would carry. If she had been assigned to a Dyellian Military Unit she would have ranked as a "Tenente" (which was roughly equivalent to a Second Lieutenant). It wasn't an enourmously important rank, so she decided it would probably work better if she just acted like 'Inspector' was a higher rank than it actually was...

Finding a D'Reg fluent in both languages would prove no problem at all. In fact it would be more difficult to find one who wasn't. The Dyellians, Benjians and Leeans all primarily spoke English, so relations with one's fellow citizens could become difficult if one only spoke Arabic.

As it turned out DBFC Automobile was more than happy to slash the price. It was a reflection of what kind of markup they had on the vehicle to start with. Although they insisted on a meeting and inspection of the vehicle before setting a final price. The meeting was scheduled for five days.

That night Himmler's helicopter returned, with a pile of luggage and an apology from the former High Chancellor to say he would have come himself but for the fact that he was going somewhere with his wife.

Three days later the helicopter would return again with the somewhat worrying news that D'Etiene had given everyone, the Cheka and Himmler's own personal network, the slip, and could in effect be anywhere, although it had become clear several other Commisaars had gone rogue with her.

General Imro went about arranging Arabic lessons for himself from one of his D'reg recruits. After the comradery that Uncle Istvan had shown them Imro was determined that he should be able to speak to them in their own language. It was even better if they knew that he was trusting one of them to give him the Arabic lessons.

General Imro was determined to test the loyalty of his men here in Dyelli Beybi, to see if it was worth keeping the Foreign Guard going.

There were four main eithnic groups in Dyelli Beybi, none of which seemed to do more than tolerate the others. All four, despite their differences, had certain similarities. They would stay loyal... provided they were paid on time, and would probably be more than willing to fight their own country, provided of course, that the money kept coming. That was except for the actual Dyellians, but they scarcely mattered, the base was mostly D'Regs. The Dyellians Beybian races had a somewhat mercenary attitude to life.

Alwood made a habbit of vanishing of an evening and returning in the small hours of the morning. She seemed blissfully unaware of any danger she might be exposing herself to, either that or didn't care. Himmler's communication with the base ceased, as did that of the Dyellian Government which seemed to have got it's knickers in a twist over being complained about. At one point a plain clothed Cheka agent arrived to speak to Alwood and drop off a letter.

It was the morning before the meeting, and the helicopter flight to the somewhat polluted city of Alexigrad, to the DBFC Automobile Plant, was uncharacteristically quiet. Alwood had turned inward, she was brooding over something although she gave no indication as to what it was.

General Imro sat quietly on the helicopter for a while before he said anything. He finally did speak up, mainly out of boredom, he didn't really want to pry. "Well, what's wrong with you then?"

He asked very matter of factly, he had his suspicions of what was wrong, but wasn't sure he should inject any more of his wisdom at this point.

"Nothing is wrong." she assured Imro, quite unconvincingly, then pocketed the note she's been reading in the top pocket of her blouse.

She crossed the floor of the helicopter, sitting down next to Imro, "So, have you decided to keep the Guard going, or are we Dyellians not made of the right stuff?"

Outside the helicopter was entering the smoggy outskirts of Alexigrad. DBFCs plants helped to keep the sky it's dank shade of grey, but they weren't headed for the plant, they were headed for some fields just to the West where the company held it's vehicle demonstrations, "And purely out of curiosity, don't think I'm trying to escape, how much longer, if the Guard keeps running, do you think you'll need a liason for?"

General Imro smiles "Well, I think that the Foreign Guard will be around for quite some time. I think there are some adjustments that will nee to be made.

The recent knowledge that the police in a certain police state can go rogue and literally do whatever they want over a personal vendetta, has been very disturbing to say the least. I think for instance that I will institute a bonus for D'reg recruits. They seem to be lacking in oppurtunities in general. I also think that the less contact we have with the government will be the better. I would imagine that a liason would be very important as I'm not inclined to speak with your government myself.

I think the next steps all depend on how badly DBFCS tries to screw us on these tanks."

"We're not a Police State." Alwood butted in defensively, "The authorities can't act though, when they don't know what the criminals are doing. She was apparently the root cause of the Neo Tyr situation as well, a lot of good Police Officers died during that."

Alwood didn't qualify the statement, instead seemed about to go off about how the D'Regs had the same opportunities as everyone else, but stopped, you could almost see her thinking it through "I guess the D'Regs are generally poorer, although some D'Reg families have made it big in the oil business."

Still they weren't hugely disadvantaged. The last D'Reg insurrection had been in the 1920's, and some still weren't entirely happy about being Dyelli Beybians, especially with the Leeans and Benjians having semi-autonomous demi-States within Dyelli Beybi. Perhaps, she considered, Imro was looking for recruits with little loyalty to the Dyellian State.

The helicopter came in to land inside a walled off field, enclosing perhaps 20 hectares of land. A temporary wooden pallisade had been errected down the centre of the field, splitting it in two. Although DBFC was trying to hide the other side, Imro would have been able to see some new tank destroyer was undergoing advanced field trials on the other side while being watched by a lange number of military top brass.

The wall had a firestep, and was patrolled by a fairly large number of security guards. The helipad itself was situated in a small cluster of large sheds. Someone in a suit and clipboard was standing on the edge of the pad, ready to meet the General as he emerged.

General Imro smiled "Have you noticed that you only get defensive when I'm right?"

Before Alwood could respond he was off the Helicopter and walking towards the DBFCS rep waiting to greet him. He stepped up and offered his hand to the gentleman with the clipboard.

"Well, have we got a tank that is going to meet the multirole needs of the Klatch Guard?"

He asked humourlessly.

"Yes." the Rep replied, in an equally humourless voice, "It's over there, want to take a look, we can discuss exact pricing and statistics later."

The Mark 62 as it had been named, was a goliath of a tank, in an attempt to reduce it's profile somewhat it had been fitted with the smallest possible turret that would house it's cannon. The cannon itself would turn out to be somewhat equivalent in anti-tank capacity as a 155 mm but capable of firing a much larger HE shell.

It could probably work as artillery, although the gun didn't elevate as much as traditional artillery pieces. The Rep pointed out that they had experimented with arms to lift it, showing a photo of a tank fitted with such arms in a desert test run, where the arms had sunk straight into the sand, not lifting the vehicle at all, but rather immobilising it.

It had been fitted with six surface to air missiles of Dyellian make, housed in VTOL tubes on the rear of the turret. Furthermore they'd added an air search radar to the turret roof, which they assured Imro could pick up slow flying aircraft and helicopters with ease.

The tank itself was slow by Dyellian standards, running at around 60 kilometres per hour. The armour on it was impressive and slanted at an acceptable 60 degrees, the Reps test fired a few HEAT rounds from a 110 mm cannon at it, which failed to penetrate frontally. The tracks were wider than one would usually expect on a vehicle, this was Dyelli Beybi though, and wide tracks were absolutely essential if you were to navigate the open desert. One flaw was that the turret rotated quite slowly, owing mostly to the enormous amount of equipment plastered onto it.

During the whole proceeding, Alwood had managed to look completely disinterested, and had gone as far as to engage one of the security guards in conversation about the weather, although as the actual testing drew to a close, she began to keep an eye on what was going on. As soon as Imro was satisfied, the Reps would wheel out the full statistics on the vehicle as well as the price tag, and she felt she really should be present when that happened.

General Imro listened and watched everything without comment. He hadn't expected a tank like the Thunderer II, but he had begun to learn being pleasantly disappointed by the Dyellians. It was obvious that they weren't attempting to pioneer new technologies to fill new roles, but were instead shoe horning old technologies into new roles.

The Free Republic had hoped that lucrative contracts would stimulate creative ideas and innovations. Imro had been skeptical of that from the beginning and his skepticism had been confirmed, as the Dyellians had obviously not even embraced the idea of a true multi-role battle tank, but of course it took Jaguar Daimler twenty five years and nearly five billion drachma all to get it 'right'.

He sighed heavily as the tests and demonstrations completed. He thought about comparing it to the EX Mark I Thunderer proto-type from years ago, but he bit his tongue and decided to await the price tag.

One of the sheds turned out to be an inpromptu office, where Imro was handed a sheet of statistics.

A lot of it was fairly meaningless details on what make of tracks and so forth had been fitted, but there was a fair amount of relevant detail. The tank was crewed by 4. A driver, a gunner, a loader (who had automatic loading equipment to make life easier) and a Commander. The gunner and driver had active night vision equipment fitted in their stations. They had fitted a 200 mm naval ordinance cannon and 3 machine guns, one coaxial, one hull and one roof. It seemed the main cannon was designed to fire HEAT and HE rounds, it had space for 10 cannon rounds and 400 machine gun bullets in the turret and a further 40 rounds and 900 bullets in the hull.

The armour was Chobham, 750 mm frontal, 400 mm rear, 500 mm sides and 100 mm on the belly and roof of the hull. The tracks were fitted with skirts, a further 500mm of armour. The turret was more lightly armoured, 400 mm frontal, 220 mm on all other sides and 25 mm on the roof.

Driving wise, each track was powered by a 'Tov7' Heavy turbine engine. It could enough fuel for 10 hours of driving at top speed, which translated into a 200 litre fuel tank. It's speed in truth wasn't too bad, it could do 74.09 kmph onroad and 69.71 offroad.

It's dimentions were large, 5 metres wide and 10 metres long, it would have difficulty fitting into a downtown parking space. It stood 3.4 metres tall, the Rep took pains to point out that getting artillery like elevation on the gun would have seen it cresting the 4 metre mark, which would have made it in his words, "Bloody obvious" and probably added to the 97.18 Tonnes that the vehicle already weighed.

All of this came at a price of 31,390,000 Kr (that kind of armour didn't come cheap), which apparently was significantly discounted. The way the Rep glared at Alwood suggested he wasn't entirely happy with the discount.

General Imro looked over the specs and all of the armaments and the armour and various other data and just shook his head.

"For what this tank does, it's price is way out of line. The speed is acceptable, the armour is accetable, the main gun is wastefully large. It's a good first attempt I suppose."

He shrugged and closed the dossier.

"I think it's apparent that you won't embrace the type of theory that armour manufacturers in the Free Republic have developed and are using. So let's try a tank without the artillery capabilities."

He stood up and nodded to Alwood "I think we can go Commissar."

"Right you are." Alwood seemed quite glad to be leaving, the truth was tanks didn't particularly interest her.

As Imro left a few snatches of conversation between the aides could be heard in the background, "Back to the normal gun then?"

"Yeah... hey do we have the blueprints for the 'Destrier'?"

"Might be worth looking into it..."

The 'Destrier' had been the tank of the Papal Armies during the Revolution. It had been fitted with AA missiles, but had been deemed too expensive for production when the Socialist Government had begun reorganising the Military.

Alwood, who at other times could get quite put out by percieved slights to Dyelli Beybi, seemed quite unphased this time, although she still seemed to be in a somewhat dejected mood from earlier. At least now she was making conversation, "So why do you wear armour around, it must get annoyingly hot in this weather? You'll find the local garrison if you ever get the chance to take a look at them, will have theirs neatly stored in the armoury. It's not like anyone's shooting at you."

"Well, no one may be shooting now, but the DBFCS want to shoot me, as does your sister, an Inspector Exely and possibly Mr. Colins and Mr. Dzerzhinsky...................besides it's Retaliatory Guard protocol." Imro pauses and takes Alwood's hand and puts it into his loncoat and aginst his ceramite flak jacket, which is suprisingly cool. "The ceramite plates are backed with a thermal conductive coating that is equipped in strategic positions with peltier cooling blocks, keeping the armour at right around sixty nine degrees farenheit.

That's why in the desert and jungles you'll always see the Guardsmen zipped up tight, it keeps the cool air trapped against the body."

He smiles "We've thought of everything. On an entirely unrelated note, how many Cheka, aside from yourself, do you think have infiltrated the Foreign Guard?"

"Ahh." she concluded on the armour, "I take it that's a flowery way of saying 'pride'? That's one of the seven deadly sins you know."

Alwood shrugged, "God alone knows the answer to that one. I'm afraid I'm the wrong sub department to even get a look in at that kind of information, although my guess would be they'd have implanted up to a dozen or so sleepers."

There was a slight pause, "Anyway I'd hardly say I'd 'infiltrated the Guard', I am quite boringly, just acting as a liason. I filed a report on you way back at the start. Said I didn't feel you were a danger to the State, and left it at that. Haven't filed a report since I might add, which might go some of the way to explaining why the organisation is unhappy with me. They were worried I was becoming 'personally involved' or something."

"I think they want to replace me." she added, then immediately changed the subject, "You're an odd one you know, you act like some crass un-house trained hick from the back of beyond, but every now and then you seem to accidentally let on you've got a brain lurking back there, even if you don't react the way a Dyellian would."

General Imro smiles "A brain lurking back there? Not a threat?"

He pauses and chuckles "Excellent."

He turns back to Alwood "I am thinking of creating an elite component to the Foreign Guard. With better equipment and training. Take all of the recruits that have excelled and offer them generous compensation packages to them and their families in exchange for longer service with more intensive and better training. How do you think that will go over?"

"What are you 'excellenting' about?" she gave Imro a suspicious look, then decided that was probably unimportant.

"Give them extra pay and you'll have them lining up." she replied, "You're forgetting that the way to a Dyelli Beybian's heart is through great big piles of cash. Obvious exception of present company."

She smiled deviously, "Of course I reserve the right to change my opinion depending upon the amount of money on offer."

Imro smiles "Oh, nothing, nothing,just thinking of some passages in the Art of War."

He pauses "They would have to be exceptionally motivated, I wouldn't allow in just anyone. I'm just wondering how motivated and loyal any of your country men could get?"

"That book's overated." Alwood remarked, "But remember, just because I said you weren't plotting to overthrow the Dyellian Government doesn't mean the fields around the base aren't hosting a few Voltigeurs, and trust me, it is remarkably hard to spot someone in a field of sunflowers with a trench telescope, and it also doesn't mean I don't reserve the right to change my mind."

She gave Imro an odd look, "Exceptionally motivated? Motivated to do what, serve a foreign power? Probably not particularly. To serve you personally? Maybe, depends if you can prove to them that you're worth the effort."

Imro smiles "It's over rated unless one understands it in context." He said that in a smug 'I'm smarter than you' tone, as if she was his subordinate, or a smart alecy daughter.

"Motivated to improve themelves and their situation, motivated to survive combat and help others survive combat. Motivation to serve the state, or the militray or military leaders is a poor substitute for personal motivation." He exlplains quite casually "When a soldier is conditioned to serve the state, or the military apparatus, or a single leader, you get an unthinking automaton that wil carry out any atrocity that comes down the chain of command. I don't want automatons, I want thinking, feeling men and women who are motivated by their own personal need to see things turn out right."

Retaliatory Guard philosophy was radically different than most military philosophies, there was no breaking down of individuals, or conditioning to simply follow orders, but more of a concerted effort to show why actions were needed and when.

"Yeah." she retorted immediately, "The context of Ancient China, which I might add we are not in, unless this helicopter can travel through space and time all of a sudden. Why not read 'The Gallic Wars', it's probably just as relevant."

The helicopter passed large tracts of desert on the way back. Dusk was falling. If Imro was exceptionally observant he might notice the gleam of metal catching the sun's last rays on the sand dunes, or more hovering a few feet above the sand dunes. It was hidden seconds later, whatever it had been, as it dropped below the ridge of the dune, "Anyway."

Alwood wasn't at all interested in the musty tomes of some long dead Chinese General, "I don't know what you'll find. They'll look out for each other just like anyone, and I think you'll find most Dyellians have a very healthy survival instinct."

Which had in the past translated into trigger happiness and brazen cowardice, "You need to give them a reason to fight, sure they'll fight for money, but they'll finght better if they believe in something, you won't find many Dyelli Beybians willing to walk into the pits of hell out of proffesional pride. Keep the money coming, then give them a cause, and make them believe."

She shrugged, signalling she had nothing more to say on the subject, "I think you should make me an honorary Colonel." Alwood suggested, "It would be good for my self esteem, and I think I'd do my job better if I could intimidate people with a High Rank."

Imro smiled slyly again "Not in context of time, but in context of waht it is. Poor students of military theory are taught that the Art of War is a manual for conducting campaigns and fighting and winning wars. It is not. It is a book of philosophy.

If someone is getting tactics from Master Sun, then well......" he pauses and shrugs , he turns to Alwood as he laeves the helicopter "There are no honorary titles in the Retaliatory Guard, you either earn a title or you don't. Perhaps Staff Seargent."

"Hah!" Alwood's tone was disaproving, although it was clear from the sparkle in her eyes that in truth she didn't care at all, "That's worse than my equivalent in the Dyellian Military, I'll be being pushed around by every jumped up Officer Cadet on the base, I think I'll stick to my police rank and hope that nobody actually bothers to check."

"And by the way, I'm not joining your Guard, I don't think military discipline would agree with me." she paused, "And besides, the uniforms just aren't quite there on the fashion front. You'd probably expect me to wear trousers."

Now as the helicopter pulled in towards the base, she turned to peer out the window. It was getting dark, not that it lowered the outside temperature by much, although away from the Coast it did drop to freezing point. The great swathe of farmland was cloaked in evening shadow, although off in the distance the lights of the many small towns and villages twinkled like stars fallen from the clear night sky, "Oh and by the way, you need to do something about your chef on base." Alwood continued, "I can't keep going out to Soubath to get a decent meal, now Generale Soult's base to the East of here has one of the best Chef's in Dyelli Beybi, but then again, the Genorale is probably more interested in feeding his stomach and those of his Senior Officers than fighting a war... if it ever comes, which God help me it won't in my lifetime."

"Are you saying that I need to hire a personal chef for you? The food me and my men eat aren't pleasing to your refined palette?" Imro chuckles "Well, pardon me, but I could eat MRES for every meal and not flinch. You are right you are not suited to be a soldier, you would need to be in much, much better shape and have a much better attitude."

He smiled and headed to his office to make some phone calls "Mind you, Staff Seargent is very high in the Retaliatory Guard, they run the day to day operations of a Division or Army. They are also often second in command."

"Better shape? Hah!" she sounded not the least bit convinced, "I could run half of your Guard ragged and still not be out of breath, as for the attitude, I'm working on it, trying to get those snide comments just right. There's no point insulting someone if you can't insult them well."

The truth was slightly different to what she was portraying, she had been military and was vaguely considering doing it again (Alwood didn't like being in the Army much, but she was begining to realise her lack of qualifications would hurt her in the outside world), but certainly not with the Foreign Guard. She wouldn't handle the drop from liason to recruit very easily, at least with the Dyellians her Cheka background would see her enlist straight in as an Officer with a considerably shorter training period.

The recurrence of the 'Staff Sergeant' business had her sounding unconvinced again, "Well I guess that does probably encompass the role I'm playing, but it's still an NCO rank, so no sword for me... why would you have an NCO as 2IC?"

She waved a hand dismissively as they reached Imro's Office, "Foreigners are odd. Do what you like, I don't really care either way." she concluded.

"Well Sir." she had gone back to a professional persona, "I am going to write up a report on today then head into town to find some dinner. Is there anything else you require of me this evening?"

General Imro chuckled "No, no, nothing more this evening, except perhaps that you come back from dinner alive preferrably. I should send a food taster along with you just in case."

He smiles "You have a pleasant evening, I'll just hang out here with the lads."

General Imro had a plan actually and was preparing to implement it. He would summon his Arabic tutor and during his tutoring session let slip that it would be profitable for anyone who identified to him any alleged Cheka agents on base. He would also let slip his plan to establish an elite guard of 'Desert Lions', and intimate heavily that it would be best if it were composed entirely of trustworthy D'regs.

After planting these ideas he would call up Tollan and request 'oversight' i.e. ask for a Shadow of the Republic or two to stop by and see about security on the base. Then he would make plans for his oldest daughters sixteenth bithday. A full night, all things considered.

"And then they'd use a slow acting poison and it would kill both me and the food taster tomorrow." Alwood laughed, although there wasn't anything funny in what she was saying, "I promise I'll come back in one piece, by the way, military beds, far too uncomfortable. In the D.B.P.A. the officers live in style."

She kept her promise, and wasn't murdered during the night. The next day she seemed quite cheerful, quite openly admiting she fully intended to continue wasting her savings eating away from the base, and generally being quite dismissive of any danger she might be putting herself in.

The plan to root out Cheka agents would be very hard to implement. Sleepers were notoriously hard to dig out until they became active. Add to the somewhat tribal D'Reg society, and you ended up with one tribe accusing members of another of being Cheka and vice verca, along with innumerable fingers pointing at 'Commisaar Z. Alwood', who it was generally agreed upon was probably the lead spy and should be questioned as to who the others were. Furthermore, as it now seemed to be OK to dislike the Cheka, she was earning more than a few hostile stares from amongst the local recruits, not that it seemed to phase her at all.

Simply collecting accusations was a good enough start, to at least make the Cheka agents a bit more paranoid and make them sleep a little bit deeper. A few days later he called Alwood to his Office.

"Inspector, I will be leaving here next week. I have six weeks of vacation and I am going to take the time to finish my daughters car and celebrate her birthday with her.

I have requested an old friend of mine to fill in for me while I'm gone. She is a Colonel in the 2nd Dark Horse Infantry Division and I think will be a good influence on these soldiers. I would appreciate if you would help Colonel Al Ismaili as you would help me. I think you probably will, she's quite a bit easier going than me.

Arriving with her will be two thousand standard issue Retaliatory Guard Kits, she will be choosing men and women for and organizing an elite Battalion of the Foreign Guard.

Any questions?"

"Yeah. What's up with the mood round here?" she gave Imro a suspicious look, "I suddenly seem to be everyone's least favourite person, and an educated guess leads me to believe it's something to do with the uniform."

"Oh and by the way, Commisaar Fradkov, she's the one in charge of One, that is to say my boss, wants to speak to you. That would preferably be before you leave, unfortunately it will also involve going back to Cyro, which will probably take all day, both you and I will be accosted by other interested parties, I believe Mr Himmler wants to talk to you as well. Apparently it's something to do with elves."

"Otherwise." she smiled, "Have fun and remember most girls want a car, not a tank... and do try not to forget who I am while you're away."

General Imro shrugged at Alwood's comment about being unpopular "I don't know? Maybe because you won't have dinner with the lads? "

He shrugged again as a litany of important Vaadians came up for him to meet with "Tell them it will have to wait, or they will have to come here. I have loads to do before I leave. If it's a military matter, have them take it up with my liason, if it's a political matter have them talk to Ambassador Drackenfels.

My duty is to my men, not to political bushwhackers in Cyro."

He turned and smiled to Alwood "My daughter is getting a fully restored 1949 Jaguar XK-120, convertable."

"That must be worth a few Kronors." she remarked.

"Fradkov will be angry." she smirked, "Would you like me to use your exact words when I message her? Himmler isn't a politician, but at a guess he's going to try to get you to do the dirty work with one of his bizzarre genetic experiments."

She didn't mention anything about Imro's excuse of 'not eating with the lads'. She didn't believe it, but was likely just to get the same answer if she asked again, "Is there anything else right now?"

"Yes, feel free to use my exact words. I didn't curse or anything so I'm sure they can't be offended. Besides since the whole shady business earlier, aiding your government with any 'Elf' question was removed from consideration by Uncle Istvan."

He pauses and smiles "Just be sure to put it all in a nice way. Then when you're done blowing them off, you can pack my bags for me."

"Actually Himmler is retired from politics, his experiments are more of a hobby, I think." Alwood didn't seem to know too much about him, but nevertheless loyally stood up for her guardian, "He's a businessman, nothing more, nothing less."

"As for your clothes, I thought you Military folk were taught how to fold your own shirts? I'm not your valet, General." she folded her arms across her chest, "Anyway I must admit I'm surprised you're taking bags, you seem to wear little enough except that suit of armour you're always prancing around in. Or are we seeing a different side of the General, where he cracks out the coconut oil and the beach towel?"

"Anyway I have far more important things to do," she gave a wining smile, "Things crucial to the good running of this base... like getting dinner, and don't even suggest I eat on base, it might be the last dinner I have, and I'm sure as heck not going to make it any of the suspicious sausages they serve around here."

"Prancing?" Imro seemns shocked and angry for a second "I thought I was mincing?"

He shrugs "You're the worst Staff Seargent ever, won't pack my bags, won't eat dinner in the mess, reporting my activities back to a possibly hostile foreign power. I have half a mind to demote you. Yes, I suppose the sausages are very suspicious, that's why I stick to the corned beef hash."

"Yeah alright, I'll give you mincing." she conceded, "But on a serious note, I really, genuinely aren't reporting on you. In your own brash and arrogent way, you saved my life, or at least got me a seven day reprieve, which is great, I don't really want to be murdered by my crazed sibling."

"So yeah." she ran a hand through her hair, looking a little uncomfortable at having somehow been drawn into talking so honestly about herself, "I am incredibly grateful."

"Anway." she changed subjects abruptly, and with a sly smile, "I'm not that bad at Staff Sergeanting, even though I'm not a Staff Segeant. You wouldn't really want to demote me, even though it isn't really my rank. I look too pretty when I'm trailing around after you."