NationStates Jolt Archive

Re-Settlement Processing Centre, Coral Palm City, Coral Palm Island

There was no denying what a beautiful place Coral Palm Island was- lush, verdunt, bountiful wildlife- it really was a paradise.

It was also a Roycelandian Colony, and had been for the better part of a century. For most of that time, it had been popular as a Tourist Destination, but now, it had another purpose.

Reminiscent of the Exile system operated by the Russian Tsars at the turn of the century, Roycelandia had begun "encouraging" various Left-Wing groups to "re-settle" on the Island Paradise. "Tree-Huggers" (a large group encompassing Hippies, Greenies, and Animal Rights nuts) were the most prolific of the groups "re-settled" on Coral Palm Island, but Communists and other persons deemed to "Politically Correct" or "Touchy-Feely" could find themselves on Coral Palm Island as well.

There were plenty of Free Settlers as well, but unlike the Re-Settled residents, the Free Settlers could leave whenever they felt like it.

Everyone was free to come and go throughout the main island and the lesser islands, free in every other respect, except that the Re-Settled immigrants couldn't leave.

For the most part, Roycelandian society supports, or at least tolerates, this practice- after all, everyone hates Tree-Huggers, but as always there were dissenting groups. Coincidentally, anyone who dissented too loudly about the Re-Settlement programme was liable to find themselves involuntarily joining it for some reason or another.

It was a particularly volatile group of Tree-Huggers (militant Animal Rights Activists, more specifically) that found themselves on an old C-47 en route to the Re-Settlement Centre in Coral Palm City that fateful day. One of the Colonial Guard on the aircraft was eating a Steak & Cheese Pie, and the most feral and unwashed of the Animal Rights group took exception to this.

Words were exchanged. Angry words. A Rifle butt was applied to someone's face.

By the time the C-47 touched down at the airfield near the Re-Settlement Centre, the mood was ugly. As the passengers filed off the aircraft, some of them overwhelmed the two Colonial Guard on the plane, knocking them unconscious and taking their Lee-Enfield rifles and Nagant revovlers. A small group immediately dashed back onto the plane, whose propellors were still turning slowly, and demanded that the pilot and co-pilot take them to a third country, the name of which hasn't been established at this time.

Shots were fired- military observers on the ground noting they were from a Webley .455 calibre revolver, not the smaller Nagant M1895's 7.62mm round.

The Re-Settlement group rushed the guards at the airfield, who returned fire. Some were overwhelmed. Several of the Tree-Huggers were killed, and several escaped with weapons.

A Guerrilla war is being ranged in the jungles. The Colonial Guard are trying to contain it, but ever-increasing groups of Involuntarily Re-Settled persons are raiding towns and military outposts on Coral Palm Island. Many of the Free Settlers are leaving.

His Imperial Majesty Emperor Royce I is loathe to put the Islands under Martial Law, saying "That's just not how we do things in Roycelandia", although several people have pointed out that's exactly how they do things in Roycelandia.

The situation is showing no signs of improving, and whilst His Majesty maintaings everything is under control, the Island is actually deteriorating and is in danger of descending into Anarchy...

This is a great oppurtunity, people...

The armed republic of scaropin pledges support to ur needs. Our military advises us that we have on alert a small contingent of a armoured division in your area. The contingent consists of 20 Serio Light tanks, 200 Standard Infantry with equipment and 10 Little Bird Helos. Please transmit your reply, regarding the use of this force.

Infantry Equipment: (choices)
Main weapon: -M16
-M4 Carbine w/c Underslung Grenade Launcher
-HK Mp-5 Sub Machinegun
And side Arm:
-Colt Single Action Pistol
-Desert Eagle .45
Plus 10 M252 Light Mortars

I was thinking more of someone illicitly supplying the Guerrillas with Arms and having a serious RP, but I wanted to see what sort of response I'd get first...

(OOC: This force can quite quickly figure out 'terrible' atrocities and switch sides)

The Imperial Roycelandian Government thanks you for your offer, but must decline as our National Security Laws prevent the armies of foreign countries being used to put down civil disturbances in the Empire.

OOC: Of course, there's nothing to stop them sneaking in anyway... Coral Palm Island isn't exactly the most secure part of the Roycelandian Empire, after all...

Scaropin understands your policy and will take no action to break ur laws. We withdraw our offer and place our troops back on stand-by.

(OOC: Sorry but i am too tired so i gotta go, ty neway)

OOC: I'm up for arming the rebels, whether I do any more or not than merely funding them depends on where this goes. Normally I wouldn't do any actions like this, but this RP looks like it has potential, and I hope this'll grow into something bigger. And I should point out, if approached about this, my Government is going to completely deny knowing anything about it..... :cool:

Before making an opening post, is there anyone I can contact to start the trade? Sending an encrypted message to the island in general would get noone being able to deencrypt it, whereas sending an unencrypted message would just be found by your Government. If there was a contact there, (s)he could deencrypt it....that or I could just find another way of contacting the rebels....

OOC: The above was posted by me. I just got logged in as the wrong nation *curses*

OOC: I'll join in later, ok?

There is allegedly a small radio/transmitter in the hands of the Committe for Abolition of Compulsory Re-Settlement (CACRS), although the leader's name is unknown.

Failing that, a clandestine landing on one of the Islands to establish a face-to-face meeting might be in order...

The speed boat chopped and bounced across the treacherous waters around the south coast of the Coral Palm Island. The entrance to the island was a dangerous one, littered with rocks breaking the surface of the water, and the boat was coming in at night, but the men steering the boat knew their task and they knew the area from reconassaince and intel reports. Behind the three men at the front, the members of the team assembled to be inserted into Coral Palm were readying themselves for their drop-off. The only noise above the surprisingly quiet engine of the boat was the voices of two men at the front, relaying directions and giving warnings of rocks seen through their infra-red binoculars, or marked on the maps, to the man piloting the boat. Finally, the rocks died away over a small area of water, creating a small bay of safe waters. Coming to a halt in the bay about half a mile from the coast, the pilot turned to his passengers, watching them place their own infra-red goggles over their eyes, and proceeded to help them lower the small inflatable dinghy into the water at the back of the boat. Waves, still quite heavy in the choppy waters, lashed into the side of the two boats, and sent the dinghy rocking, high and low with the waves, much more than the halted speed boat. But soon enough the dinghy was in the water with its compliment of five people safely on board and ready to make way. Turning to take a brief glance at the coast, the glimmer of lights from its settlements dimly illuminating a system of coves on the shore, the pilot spoke to the men in a hushed voice, despite the fact that he knew that from this far away, there was no chance he would be heard by people on the shore.

"Moriarty. You know your task?"

"Take Jones and Baker, go up and find the instigators of the riot staged a week ago. Make contact, make the deal."

"Right. Peters. You know your task?"

"Join up with the average people here, along with Russell. See what the popular opinion is. Whether supporting these people is a good idea, or whether they don't want to rebel."

"Right. Remember, gentlemen, ladies. I'll be back here in 24 hours. I will stay for only 2 hours. That's your window of opportunity to get off the island. Anyone who doesn't make it will be presumed dead or captured and will be left. Good luck."

The men nodded to each other, thanked the pilot for getting them in, started the outboard engine on the dinghy, and sped off to the coast. The pilot of the speed boat watched them leave, then started up his engine and prepared to leave, to rendezvous with the OCLG (Oppressed Citizens Liberation Group) yacht and clear the area.

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The five looked an odd combination as they left the cove where they had covered their dinghy and their night-vision gear and headed for the nearest town. Two of them, Simon Russell and Jack Peters, were dressed in traditional Roycelandian tree-huggers style clothes, with various pro-environment slogans emblazoned across the chests and on the backs of their jumpers and t-shirts. Richard Moriarty, in leading the operation from the ground, along with Jessica Baker and Verity Jones, were dressed more ordinarily, however they had been briefed to give cover stories to anyone that asked - Moriarty was posing as a Communist for example, and to match their stories, they carried small pieces of evidence that might incriminate them as being such, to make their alibies more believable. The OCLG, secretly funded by the Falasturian Government, was taking no chances connecting them to Falastur. They carried Roycelandian passports, although it was't known whether social outcasts and exiles on Coral Palm carried them, and had even been trained to speak with Roycelandian accents and to behave in the way of Roycelandians.

Reaching the nearest town to the cove, they synchronised their watches one last time, then split up, Moriarty taking his two team members into the hills to find the rioters, Peters and Russell hailing a taxi, preparing to go into the city and practise their well-honed questioning skills on the citizens of the Isle.

OOC: Thought it would be interesting to do an insertion instead of a coded message. Unless you RP them being caught already, or something, I'll post them reaching their destinations soon.

Coastwatch Station, Gold Point, Coral Palm Island

To say the Radar and Border Protection technology on Coral Palm Island was primitive would be an understatement. To say that the El Salvadorean Birdwatcher's Society had more advanced methods of detecting intruders would have considerably closer to the truth, and was a constant matter of annoyance for the Colonial Government on Coral Palm Island.

As such, the Coastwatch station's complete failure to detect the speedboat sneaking in was not unusual, and even if it had been detected, by the time anyone could do anything, the speedboat would be gone.

Thus, the infiltration was successful, although how things on the island went would remain to be seen...

OOC: I should probably mention that the Colony of Coral Palm Island isn't just one, big island- it's several (at least 20) islands, ranging in size from tiny, to islands the size of RL Hawaii. And people in CPI will have Passports, so that isn't unusual either...

Baker looked at her watch, past the glistening of sweat lying on her arm. It was nearing midday, local time. They were more than 10 hours into their mission, but finally the 1st group had reached the area where the rioters were supposedly hiding out to avoid the retribution of the Roycelandian Government, far up in the hills and peaks of the island. They had spent half an hour making sure that there were no Roycelandians following them in the undergrowth, to arrest them. Now came the difficult part - finding the rioting citizens. If they didn't want their Government to find them, then they sure wouldn't want three random people who they had never seen before breaking their cover.

The group pulled off the rocky road leading to the crest of the hill, leaving behind the picture perfect view of the bay behind them, and the tree-covered summit which they had climbed ever since leaving the taxi at the village called Kingston. Making their way into the undergrowth, and out into the forest which lined the road. Here it was assumed from intelligence reports that their targets would be. Tracing a path in a random direction into the thick forest, they kept walking in the hope of hearing the characteristic signs of being followed, watched by unseen eyes. When that happened, they would pull their bargaining chip, make the deal, and return to the rendezvous point. If it didn't happen.....well, the group would have to return to the ignominy of defeat, and the abrasion of the Director of Operations for the OCLG.

OOC: Which is the island where the riots happened/where the rioters are currently? Just so I don't have to keep referring to it as "the island".

OoC: I'd be willing to put a special ops team there but I need to know the location of the islands; as in can it be aproached by boat without having to pass through Roycelandian nation waters first?

The Jungles were definitely alive... a flock of Paradise Birds fluttered out of the trees, and the noises of various animals could also be heard.

There was a sensation that they were being watched, of course- but was it people, or animals?

"Alright man, that's like, totally far enough" said a voice from the Jungles.

There appeared to be no-one there, of course, but the effect was as un-nerving nonetheless.

"Like, who are you and what do you want, man? And if you've bought the heat down on us, I'm not going to be happy. That would be most uncool."

OOC: Most of the rioters have escaped to Dolphin Island, but there are still outbreaks of unrest on Coral Palm Island. If you wanted to send it a SpecOps team, you wouldn't have to go near any other part of the Roycelandian Empire, but the Colonial Guard in CPI wouldn't be too pleased to see you...

The group froze. They had been picked up surprisingly quickly, and while it was a relief to know they had located their targets, still the nerves hit as they were about to enter the most dangerous part - persuading the rioters to trust them. Immediately asserting his authority over the situation, Moriarty stepped forward, although he didn't really know whether he had stepped closer to or further from the dissidents.

"We're no authorities. We aren't even Roycelandians. We've heard about you. We've heard about what you've done, and what you want. We support your cause, and we want to help you realise your ambitions. We know you can't hope to win on your own. You need help. We can offer it."

He knew he was taking a chance addressing the rebels directly, not doing anything to confirm they went Government plants, and for the protection of the group, he made sure to hide any mention of nationality, or who "we" were, until he could be sure he was in the right company. The two women behind him nervously wiped their brows and scratched their necks, hoping they wouldn't have to run. Still, they fingered the smoke grenades held just inside their sleeves, incase it went wrong.

The group waited for a reply.

"You guys are totally lucky. They said to bring any outsiders to see The Council, and seeing as you're like, totally outsiders and so on, we have to take you to see them."

There was a rustling from the Jungle, and a dirty, unkempt woman, maybe 22, stepped into the smallish clearing.

She had dirty, matted blonde hair, and was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt, which was ripped and torn in places that might have given an erotic image in a different setting, along with a pair of Camouflage trousers and a pair of sandals. She was also carrying a very rusty single barrel shotgun, of about .410 gauge at best.

"I'm Judy, and I'll be escorting you guys today. Try not to step on any of the flowers or anything, OK? Mother Nature is really beautiful, and trees have feelings too. I can hear them cry whenever people people snap branches off them. It makes me so sad..."

The voice coming from the trees had been male, so clearly there were at least two of the Guerrillas there with them.

"Judy'll look after you guys and take you to The Council, but don't try anything, OK? And don't hurt any trees or stuff... it makes here really upset, and stuff."

The group exchanged glances, and then set off after Judy, treading carefully to avoid the undergrowth. After walking for a few minutes, Moriarty hazarded a comment,

"So who is this Council? The leaders of the whole rebellion? Or are we merely going to see a single cell?"

"Oh, the Council oversees most things for us here" Judy said, leading them through the forest for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, she stopped.

"Oh yeah, I like, totally forgot. Which one of you is going to, like, do all the talking and stuff? I can't take you all in, cos that's just not how it all works. I'm sure you understand..."

OOC: My apologies for the delay... I was out of town for a few days and couldn't find an internet connection! Argh! Still, I'm back now...

OOC: no problem

IC: Moriarty stepped forward. "I am leading this group. I will talk. How far are we from this Council?"

Judy thought. "Not far. Come on, then..."

Moriarty was led through thick jungle and fallen logs (by a thoroughly confusing route), to a smallish encampment of tents and makeshift huts.

Cooking fires burnt in some places, washing was hanging between trees, and there were several people with guns wandering around, including two men returning with a Wild Pig over their shoulders.

"Ewww! Meat is Murder!" yelled a women in a dirty pink top from the door of her hut.

"If you have an alternative that doesn't involve starving to death, I'm all ears" one of the Hunters replied.

Moriarty was led through the village to the Town Hall, where a group of about 8 people- men and women- were seated.

"So, we hear you've come to help us" said the eldest man there, wearing Camouflage gear. "I'm Aaron. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to outline your proposal?"

Aiming to make the best impression he could, to produce the best result he could, Moriarty stepped forward, cleared his throat and began.

"I thank you all most graciously for allowing me here. I understand that you must not be very trustful of outsiders at the moment, but I assure you, I am no normal outsider. My name is Richard Moriarty. I am leading an insertion team in Coral Palm Island. I work for an anonymous group dedicated to helping those who seek freedom from oppressive or ruthless Governments. My group has monitored your clash with the local authorities, and wishes to propose a deal."

He paused, walked from one end of the line of Councillors to the other, looking each man and woman in turn in their eyes, trying to guage how they were reacting to his words, then slowly paced back along the row, continuing.

"If you would accept it, we would like to fund your revolt. We understand you are unprepared and under-equipped for the rigours of guerilla warfare and open revolt, but you have a motive. We have no realy motive, but we have equipment and are prepared. Simply put, we believe if we work together, you can win your freedom. All that we ask in return is that you will have no qualms about us spreading word of our involvement in the underground circles.....the kinds of places where pro-revolutionary groups spread their propaganda. And perhaps the arranging of a couple of deals in the future - after your inevitable victory - that allow us to recoup a small amount of the financial loss we acquire from funding you. It will be nothing that will bother you at all. Just perhaps small stakes in business and such, or renewed partnerships in the future. We can work on that later. Of course, if you have any demands or queries, I am sure we can negotiate."

Aaron thought for a moment.

"Normally, we'd be suspicious of help from outsiders, especially apolitical ones, but, frankly, we need some help."

He gestured around the camp. "As you can see, they're mainly hippies, tree-huggers, and leftists. Not the sort of thing you'd use to overthrow a Government, especially a well-funded and well armed one."

"We need training, we need weapons, we need political pressure. We also need "Technical Advisors", as well."

"Just as long as they're not Fascists!" one of the other Council members said.

"We will have to put aside some of our... viewpoints, if we want to win this one."

"Your terms are fair enough" Aaron said, leaning in a bit closer, then whispering "Don't worry too much about the tree-huggers. They're all pacifists who'll do as they're told, especially if we promise not to cut down too many trees."

"So, Mr. Moriarty, what sort of help can you actually offer?" he asked loudly, with the rest of the Council watching intently.

Knowing his answer inside out from years of repeating it, Moriarty almost began answering the question before the Council member had closed his mouth.

"My group is a large employer of liberal ex-army guys. We have a surprisingly large base of former drill sergeants and HQ staff. While our Government denies any knowledge of my group or its actions, anyone who knows anything has heard of us. Thus, we can recruit a lot of ex-servicemen.

"In short, we are able to supply you with men and women who can train your rebels for the rigours of guerilla, urban and open warfare. We have people who can organise them according to your wishes - into battalions and companies, into small raiding groups, whatever you want. We have access to supplies of military-grade arms, which we can get to you in bulk. Everything to create your own mini-army. Plus, we are also willing to fund you for anything else you might need. What do you say? We can start to arm you in mere days..."

"We'll need to discuss it." Aaron said. "We'll send for your friends. You'll be free to move about the village, but obviously you can't leave for a day or so. Not that it would do you much good."

********

The Council debated the offer well into the early hours of the morning, before summoning Aaron the next morning. Several of the Council members had black eyes, and one of them was sitting in the corner rocking back and forth, muttering something about "The Trees, The Trees".

"We've decided to accept." Aaron says. "How soon can we be underway?"

OOC: Sorry for the delay. Wasn't able to get on here yesterday.

IC: Moriarty had been pacing. Sweat trickling down his forehead and neck, and constantly summoning his watch before him, the relief when he was called before the Council again was visible on his face, even in the near absense of light.

Entering before the Council, he listened to their decision, smiled and replied,

"We thank you very much for accepting our offer. We can get to work immediately. However, because we have no ecryption software here, we dare not contact our headquarters from here. We must return. We have an exit arranged which leaves in around 90 minutes. Otherwise we will have to arrange our own way back. We will immediately discuss what we will send you, and I will return with others before the weapons drop.

But first we must leave, so we can arrange this. Do you have a quicker way of getting to the Southern coastline? A form of transport?"

"It's odd you should mention that... We have a Bicycle Rickshaw which might be of use. It won't hurt the environment, an it's quiet. I'll have it brought round..."

OOC: If it's OK with you, I'd like to move this to a "larger scale" RP, rather than RPing every conversation etc, just in the interests of getting things moving along...

OOC: Sure. I was planning that after my squad get evac-ed then the RP will get straight to the fighting anyway. Kind of a "a few days later, group arrives again and tells you where the weapons drop will be. Then comes the weapons drop". That sort of a linking post. Then the RP should be really under way.

IC:

Moriarty stared at Aaron, his mind miles away as he pondered the logistics of the rickshaw. Rickshaws sure aren't the fastest method of transport, but I suppose they have their merits. And the cove where we stored our boat is several hundred metres lower than our current position, too. Yes, we should just be able to make it, granted a bit of speed from the downhill gradient.

"That would be exceedingly helpful, thank you. Now, if you might excuse us, we really must go. We should be back here within three days. And we thank you most humbly for your hospitality."

Bowing low to the Councillors as a sign of respect, Moriarty turned and left. Heading out into the village, he found his two companions, and prepared to go. Escorted by a guide, within minutes the group were flying down the old dirt-road they had arrived on, towards their exit from the island.

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"You say they have no experience of military activity?"

James Danite, on the Board for the OCLG, looked through the report Moriarty had given him as the Board reviewed the case.

"That's correct. From what I heard, a few are armed and those who are can at least use their weapons, but I heard nothing of any military experience."

"And you say there are a few thousand of them in total, spread out around the islands?"

"Yes, but the largest group of them appear to be on Coral Palm Island itself. I suspect if we can drop supplies to Coral Palm, the whole group could be equipped from there."

"Then I think that we have our decision on course of action. We will send 10,000 AK-47s complete with 10 cartridges of ammunition each. From your reports and satellite images, we believe a night-time drop over an area of forest roughly 50 miles east of the estimated whereabouts of their camp would be the best way to insert the weapons. They will be accompanied by 20 military and logistics advisors, as well as 50 drill instructors. Also there will be communications equipment in there capable of sending encrypted messages, so you can communicate with us. We're setting up an account for use by their group, it's got a total of 10 million Havanaros in it at the moment. You are to go back to Coral Palm Island, where you will take as many of the Roycelandian rebels as you wish to the coordinates of the drop zone. You will be given overall charge of the mission from then onwards. Your objective is primarily to eliminate Roycelandian military presence on Coral Palm island, then to capture the island itself. From there, use captured vessels to spread your operation out onto the other islands of the island group. You have two days before re-insertion, to prepare. Remember, you may be there a while."

OOC: Followup post later

OOC: No worries, I'll hold off my post until then...

OOC: Sorry again for delay. Didn't get round to this, for various time related reasons.

IC:

Moriarty looked back down the crest, back over the view of the bay he had observed three days ago when he first arrived on Coral Palm Island. Even though it had been only three days ago, and felt like much less, he struggled to calibrate himself to his surroundings. The forest surrounding the road climbing the hill looked the same all around. Taking a guess as to the rough direction he had gone before, he pointed off the track, and then headed into the dense overgrowth, followed by his insertion team. The dozen people following him, all logistical personnel who had opted out of the aerial insertion with the supplies, looked warily around the foliage that they stepped through, fearing at every second to be ambushed and killed. Moriarty just strode on, desperate that the rebels might find him again in much the same way as the last time. Making a mental note to himself, he reminded himself to note the HQ location on his GPS, but for now all he could do was stride on, attempting to make as much of a show of himself as he could without making too much noise.

Again, Moriarty felt the heat of the day trickle down his head and neck. Walking in the midday heat was tiring, but with the extra equipment he had on his back, and at the heightened pace he was moving at, the heat was overbearing. Not looking to see from where the disturbance came from, he heard the rustle of quick movement as one of the men in his team jogged up to him, desperate to find out why the group was suddenly making such pace. Then, just as he was going to turn round to address the group - to inform them that no amount of complaining would work because he wanted to be found quickly - he heard what he wanted. A twig snapped, somewhere to his left. Sticking a hand up to shoulder height, he called the group to a halt. Some of them ducked down, fearing that they might need to be crouched to survive the encounter, but Moriarty merely stopped, and called out before the Roycelandian could question him, "Do you want your weapons or not?" Finally he had found his quarry. Now he just had to get a sizeable amount of them to the drop zone by midnight.

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The hour hand of his watch rotated past 3 on its trudging course round the face of his watch. Shifting from foot to foot, Moriarty watched the minutes tick by as he waited for the Council to finish with an issue they were debating, and grant him access to discuss his mission with them. Feeling as if the hours were flying by, and he was doomed to miss the drop, Moriarty prepared to abandon all hope of succeeding when finally the door to the glorified treehouse swung open, two men dressed in bedraggled shirts with pro-environmental messages emblazoned across them exiting the council chamber and quickly descending the steps built into the side of the tree hosting the building. Another man appeared, a man Moriarty recognised as being a member of the Council, and finally he was inside, to lay down the details of the assignment, and get together a group to attend the drop zone.

After an inordinate amount of debating, and many quiet minutes, finally Moriarty emerged with the result he had planned. With permission to take 200 rebels plus guides, as well as transport carts, finally Moriarty felt as if he would manage to bring in the first stages of his mission. Calibrating his GPS, given his permission, he set off across the roughly 30 miles towards the designated drop zone. Finally, everything was working out.

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A group of the rebels looked up along with Moriarty. All of them were using Falasturian-supplied Infra-red goggles. Searching the sky, finally one man spotted the transport planes that were emitting the low humming at now filled the air. The group had laid out their light sticks to indicate the drop zone for the planes, now they just had to wait for the three drops, each seperated from the last by 30 minutes exactly.

Slowly, with increasing pace, the planes passed overhead. The sight of the formation was awe-inspiring to Moriarty, and no doubt to much of the rest of the group. In order to make the small drop zone, the transport planes were flying nose to tail, a distance of only 100 metres seperating each from the last. Any slip could have been disastrous, yet none strayed even a visible amount from its flight path. The group watched as the rears of the planes opened, and then as the formation passed directly overhead, dozens of wooden crates descended out, pushed out by the crew, their parachutes opening as the wind flew past them on their clumsy descent. Casually touching to earth, people immediately surged forward, grabbing the crates, detaching their parachutes and hauling them aside before the next wave landed. Among the first to grab a crate, Aaron (of the Council) thrust a crowbar into the first crate he saw, yanking the top off it to look at its contents. Thrusting his hands into the lining, he pulled several fistfuls out of the way, before emerging with a gleaming AK-47 in his hands. Around him, others were doing the same. Strolling towards him, Moriarty's face lit up as he saw Aaron inspecting the weapon, practising firing it despite it's lack of ammunition.

"You like what you see? There are 5,000 in these crates. Another 5,000 coming in the next drop. Then the ammunition and our military advisors drop in the last drop. If all goes to plan, we'll be out of here all kitted up in just over an hour."

OOC: Just to let you know I'll reply to this after work tonight...