Witzgall
16-12-2004, 22:02
OOC: Explanation of death of General Noilen, a government offical and Speaker of the Council. Mysterious death in house before he could address the war with Euroslavia.
IC:
A large white van marked "Fred's Flowers" pulls up to a large mansion on a small, forest-guided street. Night time is upon the street, and only two lights are on: one in front of the gate of the mansion and the mansion's front porch light.
The van stops abruptly in front of the gate, and the driver pushes the "call" button. The passenger looks in the back of the van, where there are two other men who are not dressed in civilian clothes like the driver and passenger. These two men are dressed in black nomex all around, including gloves and a balaclava. Each of them carries an R12 SMG (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_NC_Forum/index.php?showtopic=63) in their gloved hands.
"Who is it?" the intercom asks as the man releases the call button.
"Fred's Flowers, we have a delivery for a Mister...Guidel?" replies the driver as he looks at the security camera on the post of the gate.
"Fred's Flowers? There is not a scheduled delivery for flowers to this address. Are you sure you have the right home, sir?" the intercom speaks with static.
"Positive. Eight eight two Chestnut Drive, correct?"
"Yes, that is the address...but I still do not see a scheduled delivery. Did you call ahead?"
The driver looks at the man in the passenger seat, who is staring at the house only fifty or so yards away.
"I believe our boss did." replies the driver.
"Very well...make it quick."
The intercom buzzes, and the gate slowly opens. The driver smiles as he begins to slowly drive up to the house.
"Get ready." the passenger says as he turns his head to face the two men in the back.
"We've been ready for twenty minutes." replies one of the men as he cocks the bolt of his R12.
"Good."
The van pulls up to the front porch, where a butler is standing in the doorway. He awaits for the van to stop. The driver exits the vehicle, holding a small clipboard. He hands it to the butler.
"What is this?" the butler asks.
"We need you to sign it that we came, sir." replies the driver as he scratches his neck, the recognized signal.
The two men hop out of the back of the van, and the passenger follows shortly. The passenger reveals a silenced Glock 17, and fires three rounds into the butler's chest. The butler's body falls into the driver's arms, who then proceeds to place the body in the van.
"Hurry hurry, we don't have much time." says the driver as the two men run around to the left side.
The two armed men go to the left side of the house and stop next to a window. The window is being cleaned by a woman dressed in a red dress and pearls around her neck.
One of the men signals the hold position code, a fist in the air, to his friend. His friend nods, and clicks the safety off of his SMG.
"On two." says the forward man.
The two men crouch down and wait for the code. The driver picks up a small radio from his seat in the van, and speaks into it silently.
"Delta Seven." he says.
The two armed men stand up and the forward man double taps the trigger, sending two rounds into the woman's head, killing her instantly. They open the window and boost each other into the room, presumably a library or study of sorts. One after the other, the two men line up against the door leading out into the main hallway.
"Two two, once more." says the lead.
The driver once again grabs his radio and says "Delta Seven", signalling for the two men to continue on their progress. The two men kick the door in, blowing all stealth without a care. A man carrying an UMP stands next to the main door. Before he has a chance to act, the lead man taps the trigger again and sends a round into the man's head.
"Nice shot." says one of the men.
The lead man signals to his friend to lead him up the stairs and he will cover him. Acknowledging the command, the two men rush to the stairs and pause. They begin to slowly walk up the hardwood floored stairs, the worst kind of stairs for stealth. The two men reach the top of the stairs.
"Sector clear." says one of the men as he walks towards a door.
The one man places a small packet of C4, about a fourth of a kilogram, against the door. He secures it with an adhesive that is carried in a small tube, and then the two men take ten steps to the right of the door. The man taps the "clacker", causing the door to burst into shreds.
"GO GO GO!" shouts one of the men as his comrade rushes through the grey smoke now engulfing the doorway.
The two men see a man sitting at his desk, smoking a cigar, calm as nothing. They point their R12s at the man with hostility.
"Hello." says the man as he takes a puff of his cigar.
"General Noilen, you are under arrest for Treason against the Fuhrer. You are coming with us." says one of the men as he slowly approaches the man.
"I don't think I really should do that." replies the General as he puts out his cigar.
"It does not matter what you think you should do. You are coming with us."
"No, I'm truly not."
"Then we will carry out your sentence here."
"Do so."
The two men aim their R12s at the man, who just winks at their actions.
"You have till I reach three, General Noilen."
"Seems fair."
One of the men radios to the driver as the other double taps his trigger, putting two bullets in the General's head. He tells the driver that the sentence has been carried out pre-trial, and that is that.
-------------------------
-------------------------
The Fuhrer's phone rings, and he answers quickly.
"How?" he asks.
"It went well. Success."
"Is he alive?"
"No. The sentence was carried out with haste. He refused to comply."
"Good. I prefer him to be dead. Now the council cannot offer their opinion, missing their speaker."
"Ah, so that is what this about."
"No. I could care less. This just makes the situation better for me..." the Fuhrer says, and hangs up his phone.
The Fuhrer pours himself a small serving of scotch, dry as always, and takes a sip to calm his nerves.
IC:
A large white van marked "Fred's Flowers" pulls up to a large mansion on a small, forest-guided street. Night time is upon the street, and only two lights are on: one in front of the gate of the mansion and the mansion's front porch light.
The van stops abruptly in front of the gate, and the driver pushes the "call" button. The passenger looks in the back of the van, where there are two other men who are not dressed in civilian clothes like the driver and passenger. These two men are dressed in black nomex all around, including gloves and a balaclava. Each of them carries an R12 SMG (http://s4.invisionfree.com/The_NC_Forum/index.php?showtopic=63) in their gloved hands.
"Who is it?" the intercom asks as the man releases the call button.
"Fred's Flowers, we have a delivery for a Mister...Guidel?" replies the driver as he looks at the security camera on the post of the gate.
"Fred's Flowers? There is not a scheduled delivery for flowers to this address. Are you sure you have the right home, sir?" the intercom speaks with static.
"Positive. Eight eight two Chestnut Drive, correct?"
"Yes, that is the address...but I still do not see a scheduled delivery. Did you call ahead?"
The driver looks at the man in the passenger seat, who is staring at the house only fifty or so yards away.
"I believe our boss did." replies the driver.
"Very well...make it quick."
The intercom buzzes, and the gate slowly opens. The driver smiles as he begins to slowly drive up to the house.
"Get ready." the passenger says as he turns his head to face the two men in the back.
"We've been ready for twenty minutes." replies one of the men as he cocks the bolt of his R12.
"Good."
The van pulls up to the front porch, where a butler is standing in the doorway. He awaits for the van to stop. The driver exits the vehicle, holding a small clipboard. He hands it to the butler.
"What is this?" the butler asks.
"We need you to sign it that we came, sir." replies the driver as he scratches his neck, the recognized signal.
The two men hop out of the back of the van, and the passenger follows shortly. The passenger reveals a silenced Glock 17, and fires three rounds into the butler's chest. The butler's body falls into the driver's arms, who then proceeds to place the body in the van.
"Hurry hurry, we don't have much time." says the driver as the two men run around to the left side.
The two armed men go to the left side of the house and stop next to a window. The window is being cleaned by a woman dressed in a red dress and pearls around her neck.
One of the men signals the hold position code, a fist in the air, to his friend. His friend nods, and clicks the safety off of his SMG.
"On two." says the forward man.
The two men crouch down and wait for the code. The driver picks up a small radio from his seat in the van, and speaks into it silently.
"Delta Seven." he says.
The two armed men stand up and the forward man double taps the trigger, sending two rounds into the woman's head, killing her instantly. They open the window and boost each other into the room, presumably a library or study of sorts. One after the other, the two men line up against the door leading out into the main hallway.
"Two two, once more." says the lead.
The driver once again grabs his radio and says "Delta Seven", signalling for the two men to continue on their progress. The two men kick the door in, blowing all stealth without a care. A man carrying an UMP stands next to the main door. Before he has a chance to act, the lead man taps the trigger again and sends a round into the man's head.
"Nice shot." says one of the men.
The lead man signals to his friend to lead him up the stairs and he will cover him. Acknowledging the command, the two men rush to the stairs and pause. They begin to slowly walk up the hardwood floored stairs, the worst kind of stairs for stealth. The two men reach the top of the stairs.
"Sector clear." says one of the men as he walks towards a door.
The one man places a small packet of C4, about a fourth of a kilogram, against the door. He secures it with an adhesive that is carried in a small tube, and then the two men take ten steps to the right of the door. The man taps the "clacker", causing the door to burst into shreds.
"GO GO GO!" shouts one of the men as his comrade rushes through the grey smoke now engulfing the doorway.
The two men see a man sitting at his desk, smoking a cigar, calm as nothing. They point their R12s at the man with hostility.
"Hello." says the man as he takes a puff of his cigar.
"General Noilen, you are under arrest for Treason against the Fuhrer. You are coming with us." says one of the men as he slowly approaches the man.
"I don't think I really should do that." replies the General as he puts out his cigar.
"It does not matter what you think you should do. You are coming with us."
"No, I'm truly not."
"Then we will carry out your sentence here."
"Do so."
The two men aim their R12s at the man, who just winks at their actions.
"You have till I reach three, General Noilen."
"Seems fair."
One of the men radios to the driver as the other double taps his trigger, putting two bullets in the General's head. He tells the driver that the sentence has been carried out pre-trial, and that is that.
-------------------------
-------------------------
The Fuhrer's phone rings, and he answers quickly.
"How?" he asks.
"It went well. Success."
"Is he alive?"
"No. The sentence was carried out with haste. He refused to comply."
"Good. I prefer him to be dead. Now the council cannot offer their opinion, missing their speaker."
"Ah, so that is what this about."
"No. I could care less. This just makes the situation better for me..." the Fuhrer says, and hangs up his phone.
The Fuhrer pours himself a small serving of scotch, dry as always, and takes a sip to calm his nerves.