NationStates Jolt Archive

3:42pm. 4th November 2009. Concremo Capital.

Sweat ran down his forehead, dripping steadily onto the panel. A multitude of wires from the PDA were in the open computer, a now redundant crowbar by his feet. Numbers ran across the screen, one stopped, then another. Two more stopped, he had the code. He punched it in with a sigh, and turned the red key. His partner across the room did the same. They walked towards the centre of the circular room, a steel rod rising from the ground with a single button on top. He crossed himself, and sealed the fate of a Nation.

In the barren wastelands of Concremo, where once great cities and gardens stood, a silo opened, steam eminating from the tube. The steam was replaced by smoke as a single missile shot into the sky.

The trenches were wet. Too cold in winter and too hot in summer, the unpredictable weather had killed more than The Enemy had. A Sentinel walked out of a building, cradling his machine gun, relaying something on his radio. A dozen kalashnikovs greeted him with sustained fire, Resistance fighters swarming onto the street. One held a flag and stuck it in the corpse of the deceased Sentinel. A rapid beating sound rose above the cheers, a government gunship rose steadily, its chainguns spun with their eerie whine, the tinkling of casings hitting the tarmac was lost under the screams of the Resistance, failing to find cover. More sentinels descended upon the Resistance, a grenade finding a trench and collapsing both sides. Their silenced assault rifles outclassed anything the Resistance had, as they fell. Another grenade was heard, and mayhem reigned. The government sentinels slowly but surely gained ground.

The sun was eclipsed, and everyone stopped to stare. The oppressed and the oppressors alike, they watched the Nuclear missile climb steadily, speeding up as it went. Its graceful arc brought it over the Capital, a conventional explosion shattered the casing, fragments raining death to the dense street below. A fraction of a second later, the plutonium kicked in and the fireball rose above the tallest of shattered buildings. As glass, steel, concrete and tarmac melted, the street bubbled and the people were gone before the flash subsided.

The explosion was visible from the mountains. He watched it with a cold stare as the shockwave bent and twisted the buildings. Two helicopters left from his landing pad, full of equipment to get radiation and contamination under control. He would be in charge this time. No more mistakes. Transport helicopters ferried thousands of chosen followers into the city, to help with the clean-up and clear the debris.

The Civil War of Concremo had ended, and he would not allow another. He knew that they were bad news, as soon as they were in power. He boarded his private helicopter and set off towards the launch silo.

His bodyguards kicked in the door, he stepped though the produce of a smoke grenade and raised his Desert Eagle. Two shots. One for each of the technicians that had hacked the launch site. From now on, the attack was a mystery and would help him unite the people against any governent remnant.

It was over. His rule had begun.

Two Years Later

Over time, the press had given up on the Launch, and other officials also. Anyone that knew wasnt saying anything, and those that didnt know were saying everything. The Republic government had been successully installed, and the last of the Obadi Remnant had been rounded up and executed without trial. Former Resistance fighters were given high ranks in the military, leading the fight against those who stood before the Senator. Except one. Jack had seen his best friend dragged limp from the silo control room, a single bullet hole in his head. He knew the truth and would not stop before the new government was brought to its knees. He had not sat on the fence during the first Civil War, and happily enlisted among the ranks of the Sentinels because he knew what the alternative was. The fact that he deserted them for the resistance was irrelevant.

He gripped the Sniper Rifle tightly, the crosshair resting on the chest of the Senator himself. He was standing in the Citadel, looking at his 'achievement'. With a smug smile, the Senator looked Jack in the eye, and winked. impossible, he thought. How does he know? He slumped to the ground as the Government commanded Inceptor stuck the syringe in his neck.

Jack woke in a room. White tiles. Bare Light. He was tied to a steel chair with thin chains. He could see from the faint red stains on the walls, floor and even ceiling that this was not a freindly room. Two Inceptors entered silently. One raised a Desert Eagle and struck him across the face. Again. Jack had been tortured before by the first government, twice, but they had actually asked questions. A third strike brought blood from his left temple and he looked around grogily. How did it all go wrong?

The second Inceptor raised his gun, and pointed it at Jack's face. He said, in a authoritive voice, "Jack Darner, you are hereby declared an enemy of the Republic of Concremo, and shall be executed as such. Your last chance for freedom is to give names. Where did you get the rifle? And the key to that bulding?"
"Bite me" he said, resiliently. He sounded braver than he was.
The Inceptor took the safety off
"Where did you get the rifle? And the key to that building?"
Without waiting for an answer, the first Inceptor fired at the tiled wall, picking up a shard of crematic tile. He held it to Jacks neck, and asked his question again.
All Jack had to do was stall them, his right hand was loose now, his left also.
"Bite me" he grinned.
As the first Inceptor raised his crude implement, Jack headbutted his in the stomach, and spun him round. Using him as a sheild and thretening him with the shard, he grabbed for the Desert Eagle and shot the other one four times in the chest. With one fluid motion, he slit his throat and pressed wim against the wall. The gunshot echoed as he put a bullet in his skull to get his point across. They should have investigated what happed to the other guys who tried to interrogate him.

He took the ammo and left, tucking the chain and shard into his belt. This is where seven years of military training pays off, he thought, as he used raised both handguns and kicked in the door. His first two shots connected, and he ducked his head and spun, pivoting off each foot to move himself accross the room, providing 360 degree fire coverage and a small target. He quickly cleared the room and moved on. He took an assault rifle from the rack and shot the lock to the store room. He loaded up and proceeded to the next bunker. This is where four years of Sentinel training pays off, he thought, as he pulled the pin from the grenade and knocked on the door. He was greeted by another Inceptor, who gasped as the speeding fist punched him across the room, him delivering the grenade into his comrades. The explosion shattered both windows, and Jack sprayed the survivors as they crawled away. He took a combat knife and threw it through the flying debris. The resin and steel projectile lodging itself in an Inceptors face. Jack climbed out of the window and onto the street, mowing down another Inceptor as he went from house to house. He handed weapons out to anyone fit enough to fight, and lead a small mob onto the street. An APC swerved round the corner, its headlights blinding his untrained companions. The soldiers disembarked, shouting orders and positioning themselves. After the third call to comply, Jack looked up, threw down his rifle and stepped forward, hands on his head. The sergeant moved towards him, handcuffs out. With impending imprisonment Jack handcuffed the sergeant, drew two more handguns and dived, firing as a cheer erupted from the New Resistance. They spread forward, the rattle of gunfire resounding through the streets. More people came from their houses, concealed weapons blazing against the Inceptors and Marines.

William was looking out of a window. He had been in Concremo for 2 years now. 2 years before, someone launched a nuclear warhead upon the capital. The Camewottian Government had demanded an explanation, and send food and other services at the same time. The Government did not give an explanation. In fact, they closed all communication with Camewot. The Camewottians had just started their spy program, and William was the first to go on a foreign mission. Almost immidiaetly after, Camewot went into isolationism and descended into civil war. But he didn't stop doing his job. Recently, the Camewottian Government contacted him again. By then, he had set up a whole organisation. People who were looking for the truth, people who had suffered from the nuclear fallout, people who wanted revenge. Just a month from now, the organisation had tracked down Jack. After intense investigation, they had found out he was the only one with the truth. Several policemen captured him, but Jack did not know a Camewottian spy was always nearby, ready to react when things would go wrong. And now, Jack had finally did what he should have done months ago. Creating a mob, putting the government under pressure. William took a phone, and dialed a number, after a 10 minute talk, he dialed another one.

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

The phone ringed, Jack was surprised. Did someone put a cell phone in his jacket? Who? He pressed the button and said hello. It was the Camewottian Secret Services.


OOC: Your turn.

He answered it hurriedly, "i'll call you back" he said, his brief wisper drawing attention from the guards. "shit" he shouted, as he shot both guards and yelled to the New Resistance. A truck rammed the main gates, the rugged civilians beginning their assault on the prison. Reinforcements arrived, but Jack opened the master lock, releasing hoardes of convicts to aid the Resistance. In a matter of minutes they had cleared the compound, the last few guards surrendering. They were lined up against the wall, and were shocked to find the resistance only hurling stones and abuse. They got back in the truck, their ranks bolstered. As they drove away, the shouting of the guards locked in their own prison was drowned out by loud music.

He pulled the phone from his pocket, dialing the number that had called him earlier. "Who is this? And what do you want?"



Meanwhile, a government 'crackdown on terrorism' had begun. In truth, it was a mass extermination of any and all that had a history of speaking out. Attack helicopters roamed freely, and tanks were more common than back in the Civil War. The city was a warzone, everyone was on the frontline and there was no tollerance by the government. Masses of people were routinely rounded up and never seen again. The House of Justice was unused, executions going without trials of any kind. Soldiers opened fire on the populace without reason or permission, and hourly bombings were crippling the government. The air force got involved, bombing anyone and everyone regardless. Everyone was involved and everyone was at risk. Everyone except the Senator, who never left the Citadel. Security was the tightest in living memory, and shady assassinations plagued both sides.

Jack, look up. Jack looked up and saw a man watching him from a window. That's our spy who has been following you for 2 years. This is Camewot, we wanna help you. Come upstairs. Jack knows the rest of the plan.
The connection was disabled, and the cell phone automaticly disabled itself.

The door shut silently as Jack entered the building, and climbed the stairs. He went through a door on the landing, and sure enough there was William. He drew a single handgun, loaded it, checked it, cocked it. He held it behind his back and knocked. William opened the door, but no-one was there. As he turned, Jack dropped from the cieling and put the gun to his head. After a quick search, he dropped his own gun and introduced himself.

Many people in his trade kept knotches on their gun butts, but how they could damage a work of art like that he didn't know. The Rifle rested in his shoulder as if they were both made to fit each other. He was one of the Shady Assassins in question, the best in his chosen carreer. Or he used to be. Since this second revolution the government had exterminated his colleagues and coworkers, in fear that these lethal men and women join the resistance. He had not done exactly that, but wouldnt side with anyone. The pay was worse, but there were no shortage of contracts and he liked challenges.

He watched the routine exchange of money and confiscated drugs between the Crime Syndicate and the government. Eight men, all armed with hadguns, except two, weilding assault rifles. He pulled back the curtain, and a silencer was visibe, extruding an inch from the shadows. The gun made a dull phut sound, and a man dropped to his knees, clutching his neck silently. Another shot, and both rifle bearers were no more. Four more shots connected, the two remaining shouting and firing wildly. He took a last shot, clipping one mans throat, and going on to hit the other under the arm. He went down and picked up both suitcases, and got in his car. There would be hell to pay tonight, he thought, both sides would blame each other, then take it out on the resistance.

Global Transmission from the Government of Concremo
To: All
From: Concremo

Fellow leaders, it is at this time that we find ourselves beset on all sides by trators and mutineers. We gave them freedom, peace and equality and yet they take up arms against us? We dearly ask for your military support to help our valiant troops, crushing the resistance and keeping us in firm control. Anyone considered armed and/or dangerous is to be shot on sight or executed on trial. Zero tollerance to these "Liberationists" as they are known.

We must take back our streets from these less than human scum!

From the Senator of Concremo

bump

Six months dragged on by, neither side gaining anything, the city degrading with every battle. A mysterious third faction has appeared, and is slowly dominating the conflict. It is unknown whether they are from the inside, or another nation intervening. Their technology surpassed everything even the Senator could muster. They were the fewest in number, yet their soldiers showed unnatural skill, clearing the west half of the city in days.

The vehicles surfaced, and when the Senator was found dead in his room, it was claimed by the Grand Liraton, giving a name to the shadowed army. Terror reigned, and two high scale bombings brought both the government and the resistance down.

In less than a year, the Grand Liraton government was established. There was no more war. No more conflict. The last of the fighters were given the chance to join them, and those that didnt were killed without a second glance.

The now capable government has more than trebled the previous peak economy, and the populace are feircly patriotic towards them.

The second Civil War of Concremo had come to an end.

OOC: Lolz, that was quick. What happens now C?