NationStates Jolt Archive

Harold McVerdenold checked over a control panel in the KF-2 reactor control room of the Kourtfield nuclear power plant, which supplied about 6% of Andrehervia’s nuclear power making it the smallest nuclear power facility in Andrehervia, in the L'vivs'ka oblast' region of Andrehervian Ukraine. He was an assistant operator of the KF-2 reactor and was just about to finish his shift. It was half past midnight and as a result security at the plant was at its weakest. Harold checked his watch. He had about 10 minutes to go before he was due to accelerate the flow of water through the reactor and raise all of the control rods. In 5 his fellow conspirator inside the ICT department would deactivate the safety systems necessary to alert the workers to a meltdown, manipulate the readout controls so all the dials displayed a safe working environment, despite the fact that the core was melting through the ground and seal the Reactor 2 door so the six workers inside weren’t able to warn others about the visibly overheating reactor.

McVerdenold, an incredibly intelligent man and open member of the People’s Fascist Alliance since the age of 15, was involved in the fighting against the Communist uprising of Nicholas Turquoise, but dissolved when the army began firing at them rather than with them. He was blacklisted by the Witzenberg government shortly after and went underground, working with the militant wing of the PFA. Three weeks ago he was given the mission to destroy the Kourtfield-2 nuclear reactor and had successfully been given a job as a reactor operator, conning his employers with plastic surgery and fake identification papers.

He checked his watch again. 7 minutes had passed. By now the safety systems should since have been deactivated but with no communication between the two, he didn’t know. With just three minutes to go, he decided to cut his end of the deal early and programmed the computer to increase output and raise the control rods at 12.40am. Three minutes later the shift change bell rang and McVerdenold calmly left the room, smirking.

With no control rods and an output 30 times normal level, the core gradually began to melt and sank through the primary and secondary containment vessels before sinking onto the reactor 1 and 2 main water pipe. Finally, 50 minutes after the beginning of the meltdown, the molten core burnt through the water pipe and fell into the water, triggering a massive chemical explosion. Due to massive cutbacks within power generation in the Ukrainian sector, the already weakened containment roof had been blown off and the rush of oxygen into the reactor building came into the contact with the half-destroyed graphite moderator, sparking a major graphite fire increasing the spread of radiation.

Everyone inside the Reactor 2 control room and the surrounding area were thrown like rag dolls and the 6 workers inside the Reactor Building perished immediately, screaming for help that never came. Fire crews were immediately dispatched to the scene, not knowing what deadly material the inferno was spewing from its fiery mouth…

A monitoring Layartebian satellite had seen the explosion. It was due to fly over Belarus and report the current buildup (if any) along the border but rather caught the explosion of something in Ukraine instead. Immediately, the satellite triggered an alarm inside the Ministry of Intelligence and the Emperor was notified immediately. He quickly drafted a communique.

TO: Donald Witzenberg
FR: The Emperor of Layarteb

Massive explosion detected in Ukraine. STOP Concern elevated. STOP Please shed light and if we can assist. STOP END

The fax machine behind Witzenberg's desk whirred into action. Witzenberg turned around in his chair and walked over to the machine, ripping the paper off the roll. He muttered the message under his breath.

TO: Donald Witzenberg
FR: The Emperor of Layarteb

Massive explosion detected in Ukraine. STOP Concern elevated. STOP Please shed light and if we can assist. STOP END

Witzenberg, perplexed at the message, immediately typed a reply back.

To: The Emperor of Layateb
From: Donald Witzenberg
RE: Explosion?

This is the first I've heard of such an event occurring. In any case, I'll look into it further and reply back if we need help.

The second he hit the reply button, a messenger burst through the office doors. "Sir! Sir!" the messenger yelled, out of breath. "Sir! We have a situation!"

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

"Jesus God Almighty...how many casualties did you say there was?" asked a shocked Witzenberg. "Current estimates are about 10, but a large amount of radiation was blown into the atmosphere and those firemen working to put out the blaze will only become more statistics." replied the messenger. "Well...who or what could've done this?!?" Witzenberg asked. "We still don't know, Sir, but this was a chemical explosion, the worst kind of scenario in the event of a meltdown, but it would've taken an hour for the core to melt, sink through the earth and touch water. It should've been noticed..." Witzenberg sighed and asked the messenger to leave. He did so and Witzenberg took to think what he should do.

To: The Emperor of Layateb
From: Donald Witzenberg
RE: Explosion

Details are sketchy at the moment, but it was believed to be a chemical explosion, the worst-case scenario in the case of a nuclear meltdown. Further details as to what has happened can wait, however. Our main concerns right now are of the environment, the people living within the radiation wave and the North Germanian soldiers stationed on our border. The least I can ask is that we keep this secret. The last thing we need right now is national - or, God forbid, regional panic. We could use all the help we can get.

The Emperor recieved both replies. Interesting. He thought, considering that he had been the one to notify the president. He drafted another communique right away.

"Secrecy is the best policy. We have little, in fact none, experience with nuclear disasters of such proportions. However, we do have SOPs and a team of radiation control technicians, though there isn't much that can be done, that can provide limited assistance. Additionally, our SOPs call for using water to assist in the deradiation process, though I seriously doubt much will be inhabitable around that powerplant for some time now."

An imagery satellite above Ukraine picked up the explosion, as a message from Layarteb was sent to North Germania concerning the blast.

The news of the explosions spread with incredible speed to the forces along the Lithuania/Belarus border and the Ukraine/Belarus border.

General 2nd Class Hans-Jürgen informed the Feldmarshal...

Großfeldmarshal Kramm:Scheiße! Order all men in Lithuania and Ukraine to wear their NBC protection suits NOW! Find out which direction the wind is blowing. Belarus might just die off by radiation poisoning.

General, order that all, I mean ALL, civilians in Lithuania be given NBC protection suits. Denmark should be safe. Austria may be under risk. Order them to be under watch, and have them ready to enter nuclear fallout shelters if necessary. I will inform the Reichschancellor immediately for further instructions.

Also, General, once we find out which way the fallout is heading, this may be a prime time to launch our assault into Belarus. Send a message to Andrehervia.

General 2nd Class Hans-Jürgen: Jawohl, Herr Kramm! The wind is blowing north, north-east.

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

Message to: Andrehervia High Command
Message from: North Germania High Command

BEGIN.

Received news of the explosion. Wind moving north, north-east. All NG forces in Lithuania and Ukraine ordered to wear NBC protection suits immediately.

Austrian and Lithuanian civilians under high-risk warning. Luckily, after several nuclear strike threats, all were given NBC protection suits, and fallout shelters were built.

We are not sure how to assist you. There is no way to stop the spread of radiation once it is in the air...

- N.G. -

END.

As the KH-1X surveilance satellite flew over eastern Europe, it detected the explosion. Immediately, the alarms went of in Tunis. The commanding officer in Strategic Command, who had control over the satellites, immediately classified the message Alpha-1-Red, meaning that it had to be in the hands of the Elected Leader within 15 minutes.

Soon after the message had been read by the Elected Leader, and an order went to the meterological institute to find out where the winds would blow the fallout. The cabinet was worried that the fallout would blow all the way to the Faroe colony. A message was also dispatched to Andrehervia:

To: Donald Witzenberg
From: Thomas Rothsky
Subject: Explosion in Ukraine

Cottish satellites has picked up a large explosion in Ukraine, and
we are wondering if you require assistance with radiation clean-up
or first aid. We shall keep this explosion secret if you wish. At
least for as long as we can keep the media off it.

Witzenberg paced around his office nervously. There was no way the radiation could be stopped, but the fire that was still raging had to be put out to limit the spread of radiation and then there’s the business of containing the destroyed reactor building… Another problem on his mind was: whose head was going to roll? He was aware of the cost-cutting with the smaller nuclear plants in Andrehervia and he even signed some of the documents permitting such action. If this got out, his rule would’ve fallen within six months.

He finally managed to break this habit of thinking and went to his computer to answer three telegrams he had been ignoring due to his panic and anxiety.

To: The Emperor of Layerteb
From: Donald Witzenberg
RE: Nuclear disaster

We thank you for whatever assistance you can give to us at this time. As I’ve
stated before, we could use all the help we can get in this matter and
thank you for your contribution that will surely make the resulting
clean-up much easier.

To: North Germanian High Command
From: Donald Witzenberg
RE: Nuclear disaster

We are grateful for the precautions you have given your citizens and
also thankful for the further data on the radiation spread. It’s complete
panic down here and it’s difficult getting coherent messages across.

We will mostly need help in the cleanup of the site. The fire will have to
be put out, the site cleaned up and a sarcophagus placed on the
remains. Whatever manpower you can spare to help us
would be most helpful.

To: Thomas Rothsky
From: Donald Witzenberg
RE: Nuclear disaster

We thank you for your offer of assistance and request it brought here
as soon as possible to stem the already horrific situation. We are also
grateful for your promise of secrecy in this matter and it will NOT
go unforgotten.

Witzenberg wiped his face with his hands and picked up the phone and dialled for the intelligence director, Callum Winston. “Yeah, Callum? We’re going to have to convene an emergency meeting about this. Raise everybody on the High Command and tell them to meet me here in half an hour, no later.” He immediately put the phone down, not needing a reply and made his way to the Disaster Liaison Committee room.

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

“What do you mean you can’t tell me what happened here?!?” the exasperated fire chief yelled at the army colonel, sent to oversee the clean-up. “And just what the hell does the army have to do with the fire?!” “Look, I’ve already told you.” The colonel said, tired from this continued questioning. “It’s classified information. Just put the damned fire out so our men can clean up.” This did nothing to calm the chief. “Just what the hell is it that warrants you being here?! In fact, just what is burning? What’s making my men drop like flies throwing their guts up? Why isn’t anyone being told about this?!” The colonel, whose patience had finally been exhausted, led the fire chief into an empty command vehicle and invited him to sit down. “Look, I’m going to ask you one last time-” The fire chief froze when the colonel quickly pulled out his pistol, grabbed the chief and held the gun to his head. “Look, if it shuts you up, there’s been a meltdown. That fire is spewing out more radiation then we can imagine, so much I’m surprised we won’t keel over and die in a pool of vomit in the next five minutes. Put that damned fire out and if you even think of telling anyone what you’ve just heard, I’m going to put you down where you stand, regardless of witnesses. Do you understand?!?” The fire chief, frightened out of his wits, timidly replied that he understood. The colonel pulled him up violently and yelled at him “Now, go out there and order your men to continue putting out that fire, no matter what happens.” He threw him at the door. “RIGHT NOW!” the fire chief nodded solemnly then darted out of the door towards the fire command post. The colonel wiped his brow and stepped outside again. Meanwhile, the citizens of Kourtfieldville, a mere three and half miles from Kourtfield site slept on, unaware of the disaster unfolding that would destroy all of the 50,000 people's lives.

The Emperor recieved the reply and motioned for his aide to leave the room. He was going to send back another telegram. "It is our belief that you will have to encase the reactor after you suppress the fire, to seal in the radiation. Lead and concrete are the prime materials that you will need. We can provide significant amounts of both materials when the time comes."

The message was recieved and sent to the Situation Room in the bunker underneath the Electorial Palace, where the entire Cottish government and the chiefs of staff sat and discussed what to do. As soon as the message had been read, the Elected Leader stood up.

"Well gentlemen. We've discussed this all night, and as of now, I'm ordering contingency plan Alpha to be put into play. General, please make the call."

As the phonecall came to Sicily, Major General Giovanni Guiseppe, commander for the units being sent, ordered the troops needed to board the Herc's and get airborne. At the same time that the Herc's took of, the following message went to Andrehervia

To: Donald Witzenberg
From: Thomas Rothsky
RE: RE Nuclear disaster

We understand. The order has gone out to the 56th Medical Battalion, 2nd Field Hospital unit, 32nd Engieneer Battalion and the 936th and 942nd Air Transport Squadron (flying C-130Js) to stand by for immediate deployment. All the people in the units we are sending are trained soldiers, and will not talk about where they're going or what they are doing. If they do, they will be charged with treason in a secret court marshall and hanged.

Warhammer Syndicate wishes to extend protection to goverment officals in case your citizens revolt. If you wish I will place troops outside key goverment buildings and such. I also have an advanced NBC program that you might be interested in.

I'm deeply sorry about what happend at the power plant and for all those people lives.

bump? :confused:

Emperor's Office, Imperial Palace

"Emperor I have just received reports of an explosion from a nuclear reactor in Ukraine."

"See that is why nations should not have nuclear reactors if they can't take care of them. Well send out the Mobile Decontamination Units (MDTUs) near the border to keep the radiation fallout from reaching Greece and its territories Albania and FYROM. Also I think we should give Euroslavia a radioactive present. They haven't heard from us for a while."

"I know what you mean Emperor. Vaccines and pills will be given out to the population near and the borders and the MDTUs will clean up the radioactive fallout, if it reaches us, and spread it to Euroslavia."

The General left the Emperor's office to mobilize the MDTUs.

Kourtfieldville, 6.15am

The sun began to rise over Kourtfieldville and the remains of the Kourtfield Reactor 2 building. The fire had been put under control, but the price was heavy; 35 firemen had already been sent to hospital with radiation sickness and another 52 had begun complaining of symptoms. The colonel, one Richard Jones, was discussing what to do with the Governor of Kourtfield, Joseph Fellcourt.

"We're going to have to evacuate Kourtfieldville and the surrounding area. No doubt this place now has enough radiation to make the grass glow.” The Colonel reported to him, staring out of the window overlooking the city. Fellcourt sighed. “Just how long will a full-scale evacuation of this city take? Local economy? When will they be allowed back?” Jones faced Fellcourt. “It just so happens that the Andrehervian government has a contingency plan for this kind of emergency. Also, they’ve categorised this as a Class 1 emergency, so expect a large amount of funds to help these people.” Jones kept his calm, but Fellcourt was getting increasingly agitated. “You didn’t answer my last question; when are we going to be let back here? And just how much radiation has been pumped out of that god damn thing?” “Look. I don’t know if you’re going to be allowed back. A crap load of radiation has come out of that thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone here has been doused with enough radiation to make their faces melt off. I also don’t care what your response is. There WILL be an evacuation and if you keep on whinging I might just have you arrested. The evacuation buses will arrive in six hours with firefighters and clean-up personnel to be dispatched and ALL citizens to board and leave. Now, tell your police force to help prepare for this exodus and your local media to inform people of this. I don’t care what you have to do, I want everyone out of this city by 2pm. Got that?”

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

Richard Jones returned to the Kourtfield site. The fire had indeed been put out with only the smouldering remains of the core being the only threat of another fire. He turned around to face the 400 specially trained Andrehervian troops and the small contingent sent from Cotland. “Alright everyone, this is an incredibly dangerous undertaking. You’ve all been briefed what to do; using your shovels, gather up as much debris as you can and throw it into the reactor building for three minutes only. As soon as you’ve been up there for three minutes, come back down and report to your unit commander then go and wash down. Despite your heavy lead clothing and protective gear, all it’ll take is three minutes and your fates are sealed. Work quickly and efficiently and this’ll all be done before you know it. Now, get to it.” Jones walked back to the command station and the 400 men began to walk towards the destroyed reactor, ready to clean up.

OOC: bit of a slow one, I've been having writer's block for the last few days. Hopefully things'll speed up when news eventually leaks to the public about this.

As the soldiers that had already arrived walked towards the reactor, the Cottish major walked up to the Colonel.

"Sir, I recommend that once the men return from the reactor, they are sent to the Cottish Field Hospital our troops are setting up 40 miles southwest of Kourtfieldville for a medical check. The doctors are well trained in this type of scenario. Also, the rest of the engineers will be arriving within the next 24 hours."

B
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The secretary burst into the throne room of the Tongan Palace in Nukualofa. He was waving a piece of crumpled paper wildly and shouting.

"Excellency, Excellency!!" he cried. "A nuclear reactor has exploded in the Ukraine! Radiation is leaking through Europe!!"

"What!?" cried General Naxel. "How did this happen!!?"

"We don't know yet. Should we take any action?"

"Yes, send a telegram immediately."

The secretary dashed to a typewriter and began to type from the General's dictation.

TO: Donald Witzenberg
FR: His Excellency, General Jarius Naxel of Jagonia
RE: Nuclear Explosion

News has just reached us about nuclear explosion Stop We are willing to give aid in any possible way Stop However, we are in the Pacific, so help given may be limited Stop

"There." said the General. " Send that off immediately.

"Yes, Excellency" said the secretary, before scurrying out to mail the telegram.

Jarius Naxel bade the secretary from the room and begun a telegram to other nations in Illuria, informing them of the incident.

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

FROM: Jariusnaxel@jagoniagov.to
TO: kradal@chinkgov.mn
CC: fwdohwfdjihlfdlhbganjk@fwdohwfdjihlfdlhbganjk.net; blythe@jagoniancolonies.net; blythe@jagonianterrirories.net; watson@scnozzland.net; henry@popewatson.net

There has been a nuclear explosion in Ukraine DASH I have offered help STOP Consider sending aid STOP

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


Sultan Kradal looked at the telegram.

"Now, Lamdan, don't tell me that Eastern Europe is none of our concern now!"

"Look, you don't have to-"

"Damn you you imbeciliac ignoramus, I'm sending aid anyway!" retorted Kradal, delivering Lamdan, his secretary, one of his reputable stony glares.

Lamdan started to mutter to himself, shaking his head, as Makleev Kradal replied to the telegram.
FROM: kradal@chinkgov.mn
TO: Jariusnaxel@jagoniagov.to

I will gladly send aid STOP I shall send it via you STOP Expect it tomorrow STOP Please deliver it along with your aid STOP

Kradal clicked SEND.

The was a slight pause.




"HA!" he shouted down Lamdan's ear finally. Lamdan walked out, muttering under his breath, Kradal watching him with a content expression.

LOL that was fun. Keep up the good work..

On the other hand, I think its time to BUMP this thread...

The day shift had just began for David Ingram, who worked in the Friedmann nuclear power plant just south of Thompson in the East of Ukraine. Unlike Kourtfield, Friedmann supplied the most power to the biggest cities in Ukraine and as such was a security mecca with security systems regularly upgraded and safety systems maintained weekly. Every year, the containment building was strengthened to comply with the latest safety, sometimes going over the top.

In order to enter or exit the plant, workers have to pass through a radiation detector. If the worker has too much radiation, they are not allowed to enter or exit the plant.
Ingram, being the first man of his shift to get to the plant, stepped into the radiation detector and activated the system t allow him to pass into the facility. After 30 seconds, sure that the confirmation signal would light and the door would slide open, the radiation blared out the door remained shut. He checked the readout on the side of the machine and it was right; he was 2 times over the usual radiation limit. Ingram was bewildered, he hadn‘t gone near any radioactive substances in years. He thought this as just some computer error and tried again. The same alarm blared again and he was denied access.

His colleague, Frederick Durham, entered the Friedmann plant. He walked up to the machine. "Broken again?" asked Fred, visibly annoyed "I thought those maintenance gits had fixed it?" Ingram cut in. "They have done, this machine was tested ten times afterwards and it was perfect." Ingram kicked the detector. "Unless it is actually right and we are irradiated." Ingram looked over the machine and enquired further from the machine. He found out that most of the radiation was coming from his boots. He took them off and handed them to Durham. He asked in surprise "What are you doing?!" "Just hold them, I think I know what's going on." Ingram retorted. He stepped into the machine, activated it and just as he predicted, the machine let him pass. "But...what? How?" Fred asked, confused. "The soils irradiated. What's in the air may not exactly be harmful to us to a great degree, but enough seeped on the ground and passed onto our boots for the machine to know about it." "So, what does this mean?" Durham asked. "I honestly don't know. The only thing that could have increased the amount is an explosion at a nuclear site but...no, it couldn't be that. We're going to have to report this to the plant manager. He'll know if and when there's been a leak we haven't known about and will ask around at the other plants. They'll probably order a trace too. However, unless you start vomiting blood, you have nothing to worry about." Ingram took his boots and walked into the plant, shutting the door behind him. Durham removed his shoes, stepped into the radiation detector and muttered "Yeah, I damn well hope so".

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

It was a cold, crisp winter’s morning. The Maclean farm, located 3 miles from Kourtfieldville, was a large mostly self-sufficient site overlooking the Kourtfield plant. Bruce Maclean, who had just woken, stepped out of his farm and over looked the surroundings. Something was odd. It was unusually quiet and still. No birds were singing, no animals were calling from the forest up ahead, the quiet bustle coming from the Kourtfield plant had abruptly stopped. He hesitantly shrugged this stillness off and headed inside to prepare for the day ahead.

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

Donald Witzenberg sat inside the Disaster Liaison Committee room, working on the plans for containment, evacuation and decontamination from his laptop computer. In doing so, he checked the Automatic Fax/Telegram Diversion System, where faxes and telegrams are sent if Witzenberg is out of his office.


TO: Donald Witzenberg
FR: His Excellency, General Jarius Naxel of Jagonia
RE: Nuclear Explosion

News has just reached us about nuclear explosion Stop We are willing to give aid in any possible way Stop However, we are in the Pacific, so help given may be limited Stop

He replied back

To: General Jarius Naxel of Jagonia
From: Donald Witzenberg
RE: Nuclear Explosion

At this moment, we need clean-up personnel and workers to build the concrete sarcophagus to hold the radiation. We will also need men to help aid the evacuation. Nevertheless, if you can bring us anything we will be most thankful.

He also received a message from the AHISA, saying that aid should be arriving soon from Chinkopodia. He simply nodded to himself, acknowledging the help and continued with his work.

In Kourtfieldville, the Cottish and Andrehervian engineers worked double-time in order to make enough concrete to seal the reactor, or the little that was left of it. The soldiers that had walked up to the reactor previously had been sent off in a Cottish V-22 Osprey to the field hospital set up 50 miles outside Kourtfieldville along with the surviving powerplant staff. The reports from the hospital weren't comforting. 23 persons had already died from radiation poisoning, with another 36 vomiting blood. So far, none of the soldiers that had been exposed to the reactor showed any sign of radiation damage.

Andrehervian Sergeant:Sir, the Ospreys are ready to start dropping the first load of concrete

The Andrehervian Colonel, Jones, had been recalled to the capitol to give a full report as to the situation, making the Cottish Lt.Colonel Provo de facto CO, since he was the highest ranking officer at the site.

Provo: Very well. Start loading them up and send them on the way once the Hercs have dropped the water.

Andrehervian Sergeant: Yessir!
The sergeant ran off to pass the orders along

The Imperial Layartebian Military has a pair of C-130 (NC-130H Glowing Hercules) aircraft specially designed to monitor radiation fallout levels and contaminate levels. The crew of this aircraft are safely shielded as the test equippment is in the cargo bay, which is opened when flying over a radiation area. We would like to send one of these to your area and monitor the radiation fallout throughout the area.

The Principality of Gintonpar has an abundance of transport and logistical vehicles and equipment. We would be glad to provide:

20 C-5 Galaxys
20 C-141 Starlifters
5 An-124 Condor Long-Range Heavy Transport Aircraft
150 Armored Medical Treatment Vehicles
150 Armored Medical Evacuation Vehicles
50 Five Ton Supply trucks

The fallout must be contained and we are also ready to send 200 radiation specialists involved in the containment of such an explosion. However it is beyond our limits to help clean up the areas that need it, we are happy though to airlift supplies in and to help contain the fallout. The Prince sends his personal condolences to the families of those killed and hopes his help can prevent further deaths.

Deepest Regards and Regret,
The Principality of Gintonpar

Telegram

TO: Donald Witzenberg
FR: His Excellency, General Jarius Naxel of Jagonia
RE: Nuclear Explosion

We have now sent a small detatchment of equipped clean-up personnel Stop We apologize for not being able to send more aid, but it cannot be helped for the circumstances Stop We hope that we can be a help in attempting to sort out this mess Stop

OOC: Andrehervia asked me to RP some stuff to keep the RP flowing.

IC: The two college students Carl and Joey stopped the car in the middle of the steppe and took out a Geiger counter. They were studying to be physics scientists, and had a assignment from their professor to check the average radiation on the steppes.

Carl: Well I'll be... Hey Joey, check this out. The geiger counter is detecting this stuff all over the place.

Joey: What? It's not supposed to be any radiation out here. The nearest powerplant are over 30 miles away, over in Friedman.

Carl: Yeah. The Friedmann nuclear power plant. Strange... Something dawns for Carl Maybe.. Maybe something's gone wrong. Maybe they blew the place up.

Joey looked over at Carl with one of those "are you crazy"-looks.

Joey: No way man. It's no chance something like that is going to have happened. Wait a minute. I have a cousin over at the old plant in Kourtfield. I'll give him a call and ask him to check it out.

Joey picked up his phone and dialed the number. Nobody picked up the phone. It wasn't like his cousin to not pick up the phone. Little did Joey know that his cousin had been evacuated by the military no more then an hour ago along with the rest of the town of Kourtfieldville.

Joey: Something's wrong...

b
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!
!
!

The Imperial Layartebian Military has a pair of C-130 (NC-130H Glowing Hercules) aircraft specially designed to monitor radiation fallout levels and contaminate levels. The crew of this aircraft are safely shielded as the test equippment is in the cargo bay, which is opened when flying over a radiation area. We would like to send one of these to your area and monitor the radiation fallout throughout the area.

bump

B-uild
U-p
M-y
P-ost

bump

OOC I own Hungary, seeing that is boarders SouthWest of you, I would like to know where exactly in the Ukraine this explosion took place. And I farely doubt the radiation would leak over all of Europe.

OOC I own Hungary, seeing that is boarders SouthWest of you, I would like to know where exactly in the Ukraine this explosion took place. And I farely doubt the radiation would leak over all of Europe.

In 1986, when Chernobyl exploded (obviously the storyline here), radiation was spread throughout most of Europe, even into Germany and France. The radiation goes where the winds blow so it will definitely spread. Whilst And. has yet to say which way the winds were blowing at the time of the explosion, you can bet that if they were blowing to the east, you'll have some odd looking crops this year.

Professor Jonathon Carter headed towards the Disaster Liaison Committee room. He was the man assigned to lead the enquiry just 10 minutes after the enquiry started. He had degrees in law and nuclear physics and engineering and was regarded by many to be the most intellectual person in the country. He would normally have sent a messenger, but this was of such high importance he decided to do it himself. He entered the Committee room and without waiting told Witzenberg “We may have a problem with the enquiry.”

“What do you mean, problem? What’s going on? Why couldn’t to have just sent a messenger?” Witzenberg replied back with rising anger. “We can’t track down two of the men at the night shift at the time of the blast. Harold McVerdonald, a Reactor 4 Control Room operator and David Bade, an IT man working in safety system maintenance. Their addresses, phone numbers and next of kin don’t turn up, we can’t even find their names on the national database.” “What, dare I ask, are you implying?” asked Witzenberg “The Kourtfield Nuclear Disaster might well be…” Witzenberg stared at Carter while he took a deep breath. “…A terrorist action.”

Witzenberg cursed under his breath as he heard this. Cost-cutting and now incompetence by the men who oversee safety? Heads were going to roll if this got out and all roads to this disaster would lead to him – his cost-cutting, his failure to stamp out the PFA, the people whom he’d employed, trusted and said of them ‘they were the most stringent people on Earth and wouldn’t let any barbarian into our infrastructure’. Not only had Andrehervian soil and people been affected, but foreigners too…the total deaths would end in millions.

“Sir?” Jonathon said, in an attempt to break the silence. Donald turned around slowly. “You are aware, Mr. Carter, of the significance of what you’ve just said?” he said slowly. Carter tried to find a response, but he stood silent. “Continue your enquiry. Don’t tell anyone about this. Find these people, you from now have unlimited resources.” Witzenberg slowly walked up to Carter. “And if you inform a soul, even just a brick wall, your head will roll. Am I clear on this?” Carter swallowed and replied with a meagre Yes. He slowly turned around and headed for the door.

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

“Attention, citizens of Kourtfieldville!” The loudspeakers across the city blared. “A minor incident has occurred at the Kourtfield Nuclear Facility. Do not be alarmed, this is a small infringement of safety that will be eliminated by the end of the week. You are to move to the Main Bus Station and Train Station for processing and evacuation. Do not panic. Any individual being non-cooperative, aggressive or attempts to interrupt the peace will be arrested. There will be no second chances. You will be allowed one piece of luggage each and should take with you money, important documents and anything of emotional value. Do not attempt to take with you items that can be easily replaced, as these will be confiscated in due course. I repeat…”

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

Jeremy Mapp, once known as Harold McVerdenold, and Bradley O’Callaghan, once known as David Bade, stepped out of the black cars with darkened windows and were lead into the dark, dingy warehouse on the outskirts of Hage. Inside were a group 20 of armed, masked men and a suited figure with a brown leather overcoat. He approached both men and held out his hand. “Mr. Mapp, Mr. O’Callaghan, how delightful to meet such brave men at last!” Mapp and O’Callaghan returned the favour to the unknown man, both tense at the site of such a confident man. “Mr. Maxwell Roberts, leader of the People’s Fascist Alliance. How delightful to meet you both.” The two men’s faces turned from suspicion to shock and both gasped, stood up straight and apologised for their tardy behaviour. “Oh, no need to apologise. Given your incredibly patriotic actions, you could kick me in the balls and I wouldn’t care.” The three men laughed and Roberts ushered them to follow him. He stopped suddenly and looked back “Oh, and don’t quote me on that.” Roberts said with the grin still on his face and he continued walking. Mapp and O’Callaghan looked at each other grimly and followed. They stepped into a small dingy office with a large PFA flag draped on the back wall and a video camera on a tripod in front. Three chairs cut in the middle of the flag and the camera. The twenty armed men walked to the back and side of the chairs and held their weapons out, a collection of M16’s, M4’s, SIGs and decommissioned Andrehervian weapons, such as the FNC-A. Roberts cut through the men and sat in the middle chair, telling the men to follow him and sit either side. He informed a soldier to start the camera rolling. With every movement recorded, he began to speak.

”Greetings, Mr. Witzenberg. We’ve never met face-to-face, but I believe you know my name. I am Maxwell Roberts, leader of the People’s Fascist Alliance and future leader of this great land. By now, you surely should of heard about the Kourtfield Nuclear Accident. Of course, it really should be called ‘Planned Disaster’, considering that the events of this morning has been carefully planned and executed your worthless security system’s various noses.

“Yes, we are to blame for this planned disaster. Beside me are the two men whom you formerly knew as Harold McVerdenold and David Bade. Of course, Mr. Mapp and Mr. O’Callaghan will argue about those individual’s existence, it seems rather pointless.

“You know what you want from me. If you wish to me to refresh your memory, I want you and your cabinet’s resignation and I want your succession to be cast to myself and the PFA. I also want every high-ranking military and intelligence official to send hand-written letters to me swearing allegiance to the PFA. I’m giving you to, say, midnight tonight. It isn’t really a hard choice so you have ample time to make a decision. Failure to make the right choice will mean I release another tape of myself – disguised, of course -, the disaster and our execution of it to an undisclosed media outlet, where it was duly be broadcasted to a blissfully unaware public, leading to mass calls for your resignation where I will take the opportunity to raise calls for your overthrowing and seize power, bringing a just, moral government to out great nation.

“Remember, you have till the big hand hits twelve and the little hand hits twelve. I do hope to hear a positive response and a plethora of letters soon.”

Roberts looked to the soldier and nodded, the sign to end recording. He removed the tape and went to duplicate and send the tape to the Hage Government Building.

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

“I thought you said they were no longer a threat.” Callum Winston said sternly. It had been three hours since the conversation with Carter and since then all intelligence, military and police force had been motivated to find and strike those responsible and had notified all high level cabinet members. “Yeah, so did I, Cal. But I didn’t think they’d destroy a nuclear reactor. A car bomb or a hand grenade in a cinema, but a radioactive disaster? Come on; don’t tell me you were prepared for that.” Winston sighed and then replied “Who cut costs then? We should never have done that, not least to the smaller plants that were just as vulnerable.” “And less as dangerous. You thought somewhere like Friedmann would be attacked? Christ, man!” Witzenberg yelled.

“Excuse me, Sirs…” a young messenger interrupted the pairs argument. This has just come in from Hage. They say it’s of extreme importance and needs your extreme attention.” Witzenberg angrily snatched the tape from the messenger. “Good. Now go.” He told the worried messenger. He left quickly and turned to Winston. “You got a VCR in here?”

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

The first few evacuees of Kourtfieldville converged on the Main Bus Station having just registered. Five buses, of various shape, size and marking coming from as far a field as the other end of the country pulled ahead and stopped in front of the people. Before the doors opened the Andrehervian Major stepped atop a wooden box and yelled. “Listen to my instructions very carefully. Everybody calmly gets aboard these buses one at a time. Families are to set together. If you see an elderly or handicapped person nearby, offer them your seat, this is going to be a long ride. No pushing or shoving. If I see this those involved will be taken away and arrested. There are no exceptions.” The Major lowered his megaphone and raised his arm, the signal for the drivers to open the doors. They swung open and the long, arduous process of evacuation duly began.

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

Winston and Witzenberg sat silent, the tape still playing despite the message being long gone. "I'll, um, turn this off." Winston said to break the ice. He walked over to the VCR and stopped the tape. "What are we going to do..." He muttered to himself, completely shocked. "First cost-cutting, then lax security, now the PFA...what are we going to do?" "We're going to have to stop these barbarians soon...what time did it say on the tape?" "8.14 in the morning, I think." Winston checked his watch "OK, it's now half past 10. We have 14 hours. More than enough time.

Witzenberg snapped himself out of his shock and got to thinking. "OK. I want you to notify every AHISA Regional Headquarters. Tell them to arrest and question every individual with PFA affiliations. Tell them they can beat the information out of them if they have to. Alsom identify every media outlet with fascist leanings and send in teams to intercept this tape. If they get one, tell them to check it out and if it is Roberts, to send it off to us immediately. We've got to find these wackos by midnight. If not, we're all done for." Winston grimly nodded and checked his laptop for messages.

The Imperial Layartebian Military has a pair of C-130 (NC-130H Glowing Hercules) aircraft specially designed to monitor radiation fallout levels and contaminate levels. The crew of this aircraft are safely shielded as the test equippment is in the cargo bay, which is opened when flying over a radiation area. We would like to send one of these to your area and monitor the radiation fallout throughout the area.

To: The Layartebian High Command
From Donald Witzenberg
RE: Nuclear disaster

Yes, you are permitted to send these to monitor radiation levels and assist the clean up crews. If you wish, we can have a tanker up in the air to assist in their flying missions.


The Principality of Gintonpar has an abundance of transport and logistical vehicles and equipment. We would be glad to provide:

20 C-5 Galaxys
20 C-141 Starlifters
5 An-124 Condor Long-Range Heavy Transport Aircraft
150 Armored Medical Treatment Vehicles
150 Armored Medical Evacuation Vehicles
50 Five Ton Supply trucks

The fallout must be contained and we are also ready to send 200 radiation specialists involved in the containment of such an explosion. However it is beyond our limits to help clean up the areas that need it, we are happy though to airlift supplies in and to help contain the fallout. The Prince sends his personal condolences to the families of those killed and hopes his help can prevent further deaths.

Deepest Regards and Regret,
The Principality of Gintonpar

To: The Prince of Gintonpar
From Donald Witzenberg
RE: Nuclear Explosion

We wish to thank you wholeheartedly for your great deal of help. We’ll need as much transport as possible to send in the construction teams to build the sarcophagus and also thank you for the 200 men sent to help contain this disaster. They will be used to identify how much radiation has spread to the outer area and to help in de-irradiating the land. Once again, we thank you for your help.

TO: Donald Witzenberg
FR: His Excellency, General Jarius Naxel of Jagonia
RE: Nuclear Explosion

We have now sent a small detatchment of equipped clean-up personnel Stop We apologize for not being able to send more aid, but it cannot be helped for the circumstances Stop We hope that we can be a help in attempting to sort out this mess Stop

To: General Jarius Naxel
From Donald Witzenberg
RE: Nuclear Explosion

We once again thank Jagonia for their abundant help and support in our time of need and suggest these men be brought immediately for clean up. We can hopefully stop this before the radiation spreads worldwide.

Donald Witzenberg then took a deep breath and sent a message to all nations helping.

To: The High Commands of Jagonia, Gintonpar, Layarteb, North Germania, Cotland, Chinkopodia, Nikolaos The Great and Warhammer Syndicate
From: Donald Witzenberg
RE: Chilling information on nuclear explosion

[/b]TOP TOP SECRET. DESTROY AFTER USE.[/b]

According to a new PFA tape from Maxwell Roberts, their leader, they have
threatening to release damning information about the scenario of the disaster,
threatening national security and peace in out nation in return for
our resignations. This must NOT be allowed to happen. We then request, if
at all possible, to:

1. Question anyone sympathetic to the PFA. How you do this is at your
discretion.

2. Monitor all media outlets. If a tape arrives, check it and if Maxwell Roberts
appears delivering a message (http://newsimg.bbc.co.uk/media/images/39669000/jpg/_39669307_deiss_afp.jpg)
then you are send this tape to me immediately.

If there is anything else you can do to apprehend these men, it would be very
gratefully appreciated.

OOC: The radiation emitted from Chernobyl managed to reach Alaska, so it would spread across Europe. Also consider that a chemical explosion is the worst case scenario for a melt down and would spew radiation for miles around. Also, at the moment the wind is carrying the radiation west/northwest, though it is not confined to that direction (as you now know, with radiation detected in the East of Ukraine).

The NC-130H Glowing Hercules departed the airbase just after noon, for its long journey to Andrehervian Ukraine. It would refuel two times on its journey, once over the Atlantic, once over Kaliningrad, and then on to Andrehervia. Operations would commence thereafter to monitor the radiation levels produced by the plant. Aerial refueling would not be necessary as they would not remain aloft 24/7. They would, however, utilize their range to gather enough information to suit the day.

Bumpy - expect more developments soon.

The AHISA car slowly passed the address in South Andre City. The habitants of the unmarked Vauxhall scoped out the house a little bit more, before quickly driving off again.
“You know, if we just keep on circling they’re just going to panic and run off.” Commented the passenger “Relax.” The Driver comforted the passenger. “That was our last scope. We’ll pull up and question them now.”

It was 2.30pm, 10 hours to the deadline. Four hours since the orders to begin questioning suspected PFA affliates had been given and a huge national search by AHISA agents has taken place from the frozen wastelands of the North to the expensive suburbs in the South. The car circled again then pulled up to the address, exited their car and began to walk to the door. “I’m telling you, he’s fled in terror to his PFA scum friends by now.” The passenger said again. The other shrugged and knocked on the door they had just got to. After a few minutes, the letterbox opened from the inside. “Who is it?! What do you want?!” The panicked figure inside yelled at them. “We’re AHISA agents, we need to talk to you.” “Oh, you must be the gits who’ve been spying on me from that car. Well I’m not letting you in. Go away.” The letterbox closed again and the passenger rolled his eyes at the driver. The driver did nothing but give a disparaging glare at the other and prepared to kick the door down.
The man inside cowered on his kitchen floor, listening to the almighty crashing coming from the door. “Fine. Let them. As soon as they come I’ll kick the crap out of both of them. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.” A final, loud crash and an annoyed yell signalled the door’s breach. The man slowly rose from his position and grabbed the nearest thing to use as a weapon: a newspaper. It didn’t matter to him. He watched the shadows on the doorway grow until an elbow appeared. Then an arm. Then a leg. Then a head.

He gave a great shout as he ran towards the two men. The passenger, startled by this, pulled his USP Expert out of his holster but before he could raise the gun and fire, the man was knocked down by a right hook from the driver. The man, startled by the force of the punch, stumbled backwards, where he fell hard on the old, small metal table forcing the legs to bend out of shape collapsing to the floor along with the man. The driver took great, long strides towards the fallen man and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, raising him face to face. “Now,” said the driver, with tough, hard anger in his voice. “What do you know about the Kourtfield terrorist attack? Where are those responsible?” “Terrorist attack? Kourtfield? I…I don’t know that anything happened there!” “The driver lowered the man and mercilessly punched him again harder then before. The man yelled in terror and pain and was brought face to face again. “You are a senior member of the PFA in Andre City, the capital. Don’t tell me no one told you what was going to happen?” The man, in pain, terrified and confused and struggled to find the words. “H…Hage, that’s where their headquarters are. Please, that’s all I know. I wasn’t told anything of a terrorist attack. Hon…honestly. Please…I’m t-telling the truth.” The driver lowered the man and stared hard at his face. A few second later, he let go and dropped him back on the table. “I think our questioning is finished here. Though,” he said with a chuckle “I doubt you are yet.” The driver left the room quickly afterwards, with the passenger pausing in the room, still struggling to put together what happened in the room. The man stared back, then curled up in a ball and put his face in his arms. The passenger gave a sympathetic shrug and followed the driver out.

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

The final bus closed its door and accelerated out the station, hurrying to join the convoy leaving Kourtfieldville. The Andrehervian major happily nodded and congratulated his men for a relatively hasslefree operation, just 45 minutes behind schedule. The major then ordered his men to clean up and pull out before pausing hesitantly to listen to the environment. There was now nothing but a deadly stillness, a usually busy city silenced so much the work in Kourtfield going on 17 miles away could be easily heard. He put the niggling feeling of this behind him and walked back into the station to pack up.

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

“Hage again?” Callum Winston asked to himself. This was the sixth time Hage had been brought up from interrogations and Callum was surprised about this information, considering that Hage was the Communist stronghold in the revolution back in the day. He didn’t want it to be a fascist stronghold either. “Yeah, Donald?” Callum asked, speaking down the phone. “We’ve had Hage brought up six times from different statements. It might well be a lie, but I recommend we step up searches in that city. Yeah, I was shocked too. I didn’t think that the place of such support for us would unknowingly harbour them. Yes Sir, I will do so immediately” He hit the end call button and sent an order to the AHISA HQ in the region. ‘Suspected PFA control in Hage. Increase sureveillance and searches there. Give me updates in the situation as soon as you get them.’

OOC: For those who are still interested in this RP, I'm going to need different roles for what's going to happen soon, for example:

Intelligence officers
PFA affiliates
Journalists covering the incident
Civilians caught up in the PFA investigation/Kourtfield Clean-Up
Etc.

If anyone involved in this could take up one of these roles or perhaps suggest a new one to me, it would be really great for this RP.

the eastern bloc would like to state that the people responisible for this event, should be found.. and disiplined quickly.. double work loads in the gulag of kolima for you!
the eastern bloc is powering forward comrade..

mishapps like this will not aid us in our quest for glory..

da svedanya..

OOC: For those who are still interested in this RP, I'm going to need different roles for what's going to happen soon, for example:

Intelligence officers
PFA affiliates
Journalists covering the incident
Civilians caught up in the PFA investigation/Kourtfield Clean-Up
Etc.

If anyone involved in this could take up one of these roles or perhaps suggest a new one to me, it would be really great for this RP.

Well, Christmas is coming up now, so I won't have much time for a few days or so. But I can be a intelligence officer if you'd like... *interrigations = fun :mp5: *

Journalists covering the incident

OOC: First of all, I apologize for being slow to reply...I've been busy setting up the Roman Confederacy. Anyway, as journalism is what I want to do and since my nation has a newspaper ("The Roman Free Press"), I will offer to fill that role.

I won't be online much until the New Year though (January 2), but I'd still like to take part.

That'd be great, RomeW. I most likely won't be around during the New Year and haven't done much updating to the RP since Christmas Eve (been fiddling around with my presents since then). Consider this a sort of rest during the Christmas period. There'll be more to come soon.

Thanks. Greatly appreciated. I'll write up a story tommorow.

The NC-130H Glowing Hercules had concluded its operation. Radiation levels for ten miles around the plant were too great for any human presence. Out to forty-five miles, the levels required less than 24 hours exposure. Lastly, out to one hundred and eighty-five miles, the levels were finally low enough for prolonged human exposure, despite an increase in radioactivity. The results would be transmitted to the Andrehervian central command and the NC-130H would proceed onward. Word came of another plant meltdown, this one in TLS India. The NC-130H may be needed there.

The prehistoric dot-matrix printer spat out the final results of its trace. It worked by taking data from air and ground sensors and pinpointing the source of radiation by the combined strength in the air and soil. The operator ripped the sheet of paper off the roll and examined the results. “Kourtfield?” the man blurted.

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

“Crap, crap, crappity crap”. The driver of the van pulled himself out of the van and opened the back. A woman lazily dragged herself down from the passenger side and began to walk to the driver. “Look, Jim, it could’ve been a lot worse than them taking away our tapes.” She said to the irate driver. “The next time I got hold of that idiot Major I’ll tear his throat out, Jenny,” Jim seethed “I assure you.” “Jim, you couldn’t have done anything to him.” Jenny responded, matter of factly. “He was twice the size, twice the power and twice the ego of you. He’d be using your spine as a toothpick before you’d even raise your fist.” Jim sighed, defeated. “Well, what the hell can we do then? There’s something going on up there, not some ‘minor incident’ that Lieutenant kept spouting.” “Look, Jim,” Jenny exasperatedly explained to Jim “The only thing we can do is report that a ‘minor incident’ has happened and the public will keep on going on about this ‘minor incident’ to the government and they will have to release this information to the public. It’ll be a domino effect, of sorts.” The two began waliing toward the TV studio building. “Yeah, I’ll quote you on that one.” Jim whispered to himself.”“What was that?” Jenny asked without looking at him “Oh, urm, nothing much.” Jim stuttered.

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

It was now 10pm, two hours before the dealine expired. Maxwell Roberts sat quietly at his desk, watching the small television at the back of the room, awaiting the decision that will secure his rise to power and the correction of the nation. A single word diverted his attention. “Kourtfield”. It emanated from the television. He grabbed the remote control on the desk and turned the volume up. “…since an unknown time, the Kourtfield Nuclear Power Plant, Kourtfieldville and the surrounding area has been sealed to the public, with only military convoys been giving entry, filled with soldiers in lead suits. Military helicopters and aircraft continually fly through the site, with no known reasons as to why they are doing so. No governmental group are yet to say anything about the situation. Meanwhile…”

Roberts gave a crook’s grin. As this information spreads, the public will be hungry for knowledge about this and Roberts would be the man to give it. Not only that, but the majority would be more than happy to support the actions of the disposal of this incompetent. He breathed in deeply and rose from his chair. He walked out of the office where outside the three men who would change the future of the country waited. “You three, it’s time. You all know what you have to do, your lines, the editing sequence, all of that?” The three men nodded. “Good. Get to it.”

Three Cottish soldiers with XM-8A1s, attached to 1th Company, 32nd Combat Engineer Battalion, stood guard at the Kourtville perimeter, letting no-one but Military personell enter. The engineers were starting to get control of the situation now, after more then 48 hours of relentless work. Unfortunately, the journalists were also starting to understand what was happening, and demanded to know what was happening.

Though the soldiers were in NBC suits, they were being asked whether they were Andrehervians or not. The soldiers, not understanding the language, kept their mouths shut. It wasn't untill a Cottish Osprey flew over the perimeter that they started to demand to be let in.

One of them, a young Andrehervian journalist, started to walk towards the soldiers. The soldiers, lead by a 18-year old corporal, trained their rifles on the journalist. Their every move was followed closely by television cameras that broadcasted live to the rest of the world.

Corporal (in English): Stop, or I will open fire!

The journalist didn't stop. He was now only 5 meters away from the soldiers.

Corporal: STOP! I'll shoot!

Still, the journalist didn't stop. Only 3 meters away. Too close for the rifle. The corporal slinged his XM-8 and pulled out his sidearm, a FN Five-seveN 5,7mm pistol. He aimed for the journalists knee and gave his final warning.

Corporal: STOP! THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING!

When the journalist didn't stop, the corporal followed his orders and shot the journalist. First in the right knee, then in the left. Being nervous, and the journalists failure to fall right down, he fired an additional two rounds into the shoulders of the journalist, who fell down immediately bleeding. The two privates took aim for the other journalists while the corporal called for a medic and an officer. All this while the cameras sent the pictures to the rest of the world, including the president of Andrehervia and the Elected Leader of Cotland.

William Pilmer looked at the mountain of envelopes in despair and disgust. For the last three days he had ripped open every letter, analysed every tape, every letter, anything to fall out of those cursed brown bags for anything that could be thought of as a ‘message’ and now he was going to have to carry out the process all over again. He took a sigh and a large swig from his coffee and slowly began to peel open the first envelope he picked up from the pile. Inside was a lone unmarked VHS tape set to the beginning. Yawning, he slotted the tape into the Editing Room’s video player and slowly pushed the play button. He rested his head on his arm and stared blankly at the television screen.

A dull background and an unlit man standing in front of a stained, worn podium greeted him. “Ladies, Gentlemen, Children, you may well be aware of the minor incident at the Kourtfield nuclear plant. You may now be hungry for information. It is of course my simple duty to report you facts in the threat that the corrupt fiends in the Government might just bring out the same rhetoric and silence the truth…”

Pilmer picked up at the sound of that sentence. Changing from a blanked stare to a confused gawk, he sat up in his chair and turned the volume down, fearful for anyone outside who may be accidentally listening.

”This minor incident, as they so wonderfully put it, was a terrorist act and we are fully responsible for it. The Andrehervian Liberation Army will go to no depths for our message to be heard and here is our resolve…

Pilmer stared wide-eyed at the TV screen as the speech went on, now a neverending dull mumble as the contents of the tape hit Pilmer. He rose slowly out of his chair then flung himself at the satellite phone given to him to call HQ and hurriedly dialled the contact number.

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

Witzenberg stared outside the office window, towards the many bureaucrats, soldiers and typists running around like ants yelling orders at each other. He got thinking at the families being moved to God knows where in the arse-end of Ukraine and those unfortunate enough to be in the blast wave at the time of the blast and those with so much radiation in their bodies their skin must’ve melted off by now.

“Hey, Donald.” Callum Winston was standing in the doorframe. Witzenberg slowly turned around and stared at Winston. “Yes, Callum, what is it?” Callum gave off a sly smile, closed the door behind him and slowly walked to one of the chairs in the room. He slowly sat down on one of them. ”I’ve been thinking about this whole thing recently and I think I’ve thought of a way to make this turn to our advantage.” Witzenberg slowly walked into his chair and sighed. “Go on then. What’s your plan?” Witzenberg asked. “You know how much the PFA have been a thorn in our side?” Callum said whilst pouring himself a glass of whisky. Witzenberg solemnly nodded. Ever since the battle for Hage and his rise to power, the PFA have still been the metaphorical wart on the face of Andrehervia. Despite the fact they had kept their head down since then did nothing but serve Witzenberg’s suspicions, especially with nearly weekly reports by AHISA of a ‘spectacular attack’ to hit Andrehervian soil. “I thought Operation Evenstone was supposed to have destroyed all the active PFA agents.” Donald said. Callum laughed briefly. “That was nothing more than a warning to others like them and a message to the population of our brutal strike forces.” Callum continued to chuckle quietly and sipped his whisky. “My plan is to declare that the PFA is responsible for this attack, give the many documents we have as evidence and, if we ever get it, that tape. This’ll give us all the justifiable clearance to raid Hage and get rid of that Roberts worm.” “How are we going to trace the evidence back to the PFA? And the tape too, if we get it?”

“Don’t worry,” Callum reassured Winston “They’ll be after revenge so much clear thinking won’t be there number one priority. We’ll make some more stuff up and find the evidence that links the tape to them.” Donald swept around in his chair and looked out of the window opposite towards the sprawling operation centre. “Fine. Do it. But, remember, this goes wrong and it falls on your head. Clear?” Callum simply smiled, finished the rest of the glass and slowly walked out of the room.

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

The final pieces of rubble were unceremoniously thrown into the quietly glowing pit of reactor building number 4. The three dozen workmen collectively breathed a sigh of relief and quickly climbed down the destroyed complex towards the decontamination showers. Colonel Jones was sitting in his office finalising the plans for the sarcophagus having not slept all night. A loud knocking emanated from the door and a soldier quickly opened the door and poked his head into the room. “Sir,” he said quickly “the clean-up is complete. Construction teams can move in.” Jones slowly nodded without looking up and reached for the telephone handset to call his superiors as the soldier left the room.