NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is an open, modern tech RP. So let the show begin!

In the early morning tropical fog of Panama, three freighters moved slowly towards their destination in Puerto Barrios in Guatemala. To much relief of the captains of the vessels, the weather was expected to be good. Not only would this make the voyage easier, but safer considering that the cargo of the freighters were sensitive silicate based explosives and warheads. However, soon enough, the shipment would be delivered, the crew would go on break, and the Aztec military was the entire bit stronger.

The captain of the vessel looked out the bridge window; to the side of the ship was one Okinawa Class Patrol ship. The unseen escort behind the convoy was another Okinawa, keeping close pace. They were small ships, but enough protection for the short and relatively close to home journey.

A sharp beeping sound emanated from the sensor screen. After a few seconds of silence, the somewhat disturbed sensor officer said quickly, “Sir, there’s a blip on the radar coming towards us at a high rate of speed. It appears to be Aztec warplanes.” A brief pause ensued, “Confirm that, the planes have the structural characteristics of AZ-23s.”

It wasn’t unusual to see military planes flying about as there was an increased presence in this area. Although there hasn’t been a case of piracy for years, this was one of the most important areas of Aztlán, at least economically, and a prime target for attack. The captain, a stickler for protocol, ordered to his second in command, “Send a friendly transmission.”

Minutes passed by after the transmission was sent, and it appeared the aircraft were coming closer. Frustrated, the captain of the lead freighter said, “This is damn peculiar...In my 21 years of commanding freighters, only hostile military units don’t respond.” The captain sat down, perplexed and concerned. After thinking for a minute, the captain said, “Tell our escorts to make contact with the planes.”

“Aye, captain.”

More minutes passed and the planes were still on an intercept course and coming very close. The voice of the commanding officer of the lead escort contacted the freighter captain, “Sir, we have no response from the planes. I’m ordering you to proceed at full speed ahead and be at red alert…We are going to intercept them.”

The captain acknowledged, “Understood, proceeding to full speed.”

The two freighters picked up speed and continued on their course. Meanwhile, the two patrol ships broke from the fleet and began to intercept the incoming warplanes.

On board the SAS Romanus…

The usual cool lighting scheme on board the ship had changed to a much harsher red lighting scheme, indicating combat readiness. This was a breach of serious protocol; friendly units had to at least acknowledge the presence of another friendly unit.

The sensor officer reported to the commander of the ship, “Sir, we are within firing range of the warplanes, no response yet sir. The freighters are a safe distance away.”

“Damn it, what the hell is their problem?” The commanding officer said bluntly. “Signal to the other ship to fire warning flairs on my mark.”

After a few seconds, the sensor panel lit up and beeped loudly and frantically. The sensor officer couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “SIR! WE’RE DETECTING TWO TORPEDOES!”

The commanding officer “What the hell? From where?”

“Behind us, sir.”

Before the commanding officer could warn his crew, a loud explosion blasted from the rear of the ship. The ship shook violently as the torpedoes exploded in close proximity to the hull.

The commanding officer, who had just graduated from Naval Command School, was struck dumbfounded. Between the sound of exploding electronic screen and rattling bulkheads, an officer yelled out, “Massive hull breaches in rear compartments…engines are dead; power is down in the rear part of the ship.”

“All hands, abandon ship!” The commanding officer looked up towards the window. The two AZ-23s were now almost right in front of the ship. From underneath the pylons of the aircrafts’ wings, two bright flashes lit up the air. In a gloomy, wrecked tone, the young commander said, “Oh my God…”

---

In the cargo ship, the veteran captain and his small crew looked at the ensuing attack in horror. Suddenly, two large explosions illuminated the sky briefly as two missiles were driven into the dying heart of the ship. Total shock gripped the crew, and they all knew that they would be next.

That time wouldn’t be far. It was now fairly obvious that the two AZ-23s were now flying towards the freighters. Although lightly armed, the freighters had no chance against the much more powerful military aircraft. In frenzy, the crew took their posts, with the captain yelling “Send out a damned distress signal now!” With the real time satellite feeds the ships gave to naval command, it was assured that the ANL already knew what was going on. But this only added to the urgency.

Four more lights illuminated from underneath the wings of the AZ-23s. The missiles flew like atlatls, spears towards one of the freighters. Two explosions emanated from the ship, followed shortly after by two more explosions. A loud crack sounded as a cloud of fire, debris and smoke exploded through the wrecked hull of the freighter. A massive percussion shook the surrounding ships and area for miles.

Pulling himself from the floor, the veteran captain looked up in terror. His communication officer looked up and said to him, “Sir, we are being ordered to surrender.”

Indignantly, the captain asked, “To who?”

=~=~=~=

Death and destruction wasn’t only awash in the seas of Panama. Throughout the streets, loyalists to the Aztec socialist government were being rounded up, stripped of clothing and belongings and then tortured or simply shot. All people, civilians, Red Guardsmen, even the pride of Aztlán, the Jaguar Warriors fell victim to the bullets of this violent insurrection. Flames grew like a great wall of fear, burning what was a rather harmonious social fabric. Smoke billowed from Panama City and could be seen from miles around. The canal, one of the most important resources of the ANL was filled with debris, oil and some bodies. The water was carrying an unusual sanguine odor. It was total and utter chaos, unwarranted death and destruction…and all for what?

=~=~=~=

Inside the Grand Union Chambers; the office of the Premier of Aztlán, the Premier’s cabinet and family watched the television and the events in Panama unfold. The reactions of the people were varied, but carried the same tone, shock and horror. Some were extremely quiet, like the Minister of the Environment Raquel Rodriguez and Minister of Foreign Affairs Dr. Darius Wellington. Some were furious like the Minister of War Chief Warrior-General Tlanextic Zazanilli. Even the Premier of the Aztec National League, Quetzalcoatl Nochtli, and his wife, Angelica had seen war and death first-hand; seemed disturbed by the scene.

The Minister of Intelligence walked into the room, aware that a possibility existed where he would get a large portion of the blame for this. However, if this administration is as fair as it proclaims it is, it will listen to him...But that was for the later legislative inquiries.

“Premier, we know who did this act. A tape will be playing in a few seconds.”

True enough, a few seconds later, the news cast was interrupted by a live feed…Anyone who was paying attention to this situation would also see it…

A middle aged man appeared on the camera. Although the ministers recognized who he was, his usual NKVD style uniform was missing and was replaced with a tan uniform, different than the Aztec standard…of course, this was of minimal concern to the powers of Aztlán.

“My name is Jorge Leon Lopez, Generalismo of the Dominion of Panama, and, as of this moment, this state is separating itself from the Communist plague of the Aztec National League. No longer will we tolerate the imposing government. From now on, we shall rule our own destiny, plan our own economy and not support the socialist cause. We will no longer be lead by a leader, some boy-emperor who is younger than most of the nation. We will not support the cronies in their illegitimate capital from their wasted revolution. We start today by slapping the Republic and saying no more. Further more, we dare you to show your true colors, Quetzalcoatl. Show your respect for citizenship rule and democracy. Take your precious land, your precious Canal and all the other things you cherish. If there are any true nations, true leaders out there, you will help me and join this fight against the power that calls itself Aztlán…Who knows, we may be able to liberate the people from the oppression that they have lived under for so long.”

Although the ministers and Premier might have some disagreements, it was clear that the policy, direction and image of the Aztec National League has just changed.

It shouldn’t have been to anyone’s surprise that the officials of the Aztec National League would show their solidarity over this issue. If this so-called Dominion and Generalissimo Lopez was successful in building up a collation of sorts against the Republic, the socialists would have to appear to be a more than worthy opponent. Only a few short seconds later, after the Generalissimo of the Dominion gave his introductory speech, it was now time for the Premier’s response.

The surprise, early morning attack gave no time for the Premier to dress in formal clothing. Rather, he stood before the people of Aztlán and the international community in somewhat more casual attire, a usual linen shirt, jeans and work boots. Formal or not, he was still the leader of billions and one of the strongest socialist powers in the world. In back of him stood the various ministers, not saying anything at first, but there to give support. Next to the long-haired Quetzalcoatl was his trusted Vice-Premier, Coyotepec Xoxotic. Although Quetzalcoatl loved to be in the public eye, he didn’t want it because of an attack.

“Friends of the world and comrades,” Quetzalcoatl started, “today, the people of Aztlán have been struck by a most vicious enemy. It is tragic to say that the leader of this group, this self proclaimed Generalissimo; was one of our officers. The reason for this revolution, he says, is because we are oppressors. Although these accusations are among the most fallacious I have ever heard off, he has the right to disagree with us and run a peaceful political campaign against the ruling parties of the nation. However, that wasn’t good enough, and out of greed, Jorge Lopez has now caused unheard of economical damage and an untold amount of pain amongst the people.”

He looked up, into the many different cameras and reporters all about. Behind the news media was a contingency of people, all looking towards their leader…

“Legally, this group can not cede from the Union as it is forbidden in our constitution. Any state that is thinking of supporting this rogue must remember that this “Dominion” is an illegitimate power and will be treated as such. We will re-enforce order in the state of Panama and begin repairs due to this insurrection. Any nation that attempts to trade or assist this Generalissimo will be considered hostile and not welcome near any of our territories. The Aztec military will be conducting a blockade of the Panama Canal so as long as this terrorist organization exists.”

Again, after pausing for a few seconds, the Premier continued on,

“I, nor the Aztec National League, will stand by as a rouge officer pillages the people he swore to defend. Immediately, we will begin on a campaign to restore order in Panama. Even if I have to personally lead troops into battle, let it be, but this criminal will not be let to rule. He is the enemy of democracy and self-determination. It was Lopez who fought against the will of the people, slaughtered those who were loyal to us and transformed a peaceful state into a military state. This is unallowable.”

He looked up, wondering what would happen to his approval rating. This would be the wildcard that determined if his administration would last…

“People of Aztlán, we have been struck and wronged, something that we can not allow. Now, it is time to strike back and make sure that we take action; action that would not disappoint our ancestors.”

=~=~=~=

Generalissimo Lopez sat back in his chair, watching the Premier’s statement on the television. Just as he expected; a lot of jingoism, socialism and what not – it all would mean nothing. Although he knew that the Aztecs had the superior military power in sheer numbers, not to mention technology, economically and in foreign affairs, the Dominion could certainly hold off on it’s own.

The Generalissimo’s assistant walked in, still wearing the Soviet Aztec uniform. Lopez looked at him and said, “Ah, my friend, I can’t wait until we can burn all symbols of the Socialists. So tell me, how are we doing?”

Luís Hernandez sat down at the chair, “Good, very good. We have consolidated control over most of the farms, factories and power sources. In addition, we have 2,500 soldiers, which is predicted to grow within the next month. Furthermore, we have 30 warplanes and 20 ships. The ships we control, however, are fueled off of uranium, something we don’t have.”

This could be a problem, “How long is it until the uranium is depleted?”

“At least, we’re looking at 6 months; the longest is 3 years.” Hernandez continued, “However, we also have quite a few ultra-clean diesel based ships, and we have good diesel manufacturing capabilities.”

The Generalissimo smiled at this good news, “And what of international interest?”

“None as of yet,” Hernandez sighed. “But sir, remember, this is only the first day of the Dominion. We can hold our own for a while, but eventually, someone’s got to notice us and like what we are doing.”

Lopez leaned back in his chair, “Any one who opposes the vanguard of the socialist cause and gives them a challenge would gain the respect of any democratic capitalist or, even a few fascists. I’m sure we’ll have our support…just as the Aztecs will have theirs.”

Luís Hernandez finished up, “We also were able to storm some secret storage sights and bases. Just to let you know, we have obtained some ‘useful’ hardware.”

The Generalissimo was interested in this last comment; “Such as?”

“Chemical and biological weapons recovered from an attempted attack on the ANL a couple of years ago. In addition, we’ve founded radioactive material from hospitals and other low-priority sources.”

Jorge Leon Lopez was happy to hear that, “Yes, useful hardware indeed.”

Attention General Jorge Leon Lopez,

We are preparing to send in the fullest extent of our military forces to restore order in Panama. We give you one last chance to surrender peacefully and cease this rebellion immediately. The Aztec Military is ready to seize control by any means necessary at a moment’s notice. If you and your followers do not step down by 5 PM today, I assure you that you will suffer a humiliating, deadly defeat.

-Quetzalcoalt Nochtli, Hueyi Tlatoani of the Aztlán

~-~-~-

Generalissimo Lopez looked over the short telegraph. It looked like as if the Socialists were actually going to fight, the intelligence gather systems of the Dominion, although limited, detected troop build-up in Nicuragua and fleet mobilizations rather close to the Panamanian coast. Too bad for them, if they struck, the Generalissimo would be that much more justified in using WMDs. If the ANL attacked, every man, woman and child would be fair game.

---FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER---

In full military uniform, Jorge Leon Lopez walked out in front of the cameras of the news media. The ANL media was watching this as well, although probably broadcasting what the Dominion was. Hopefully for the cause, the international world was watching this too.

“We have received a word of warning from the Premier of the Aztec National League. He has demanded that I and my fellow contrarevoluciónarios step down and submit ourselves to the justice of the hammer and sickle. He has demanded that I return Panama to his control.

I only have one thing to say to that, sir. Go to hell.

I won’t allow this nation to return itself to the Republic after it has just liberated itself. We will not surrender to you or anyone of the USRANL. If you want a war, then let it start here now. However, if the other nations in this world want to stop this socialist menace from oppressing more people, then join us now!”

The Generalissimo sat at a table, looking over his papers. Despite the statements and the stand, there were no responses from the international community, neither good nor bad. Clearly, this wasn’t working, and something had to be done. There were the plans developed, so affectionately called “Plan A” and “Plan B”. Plan A was simple, make alliances, gain resources and fight the government. Plan B was also simple, if Plan A couldn’t be done, destroy the Dominion in a blaze of glory. Regardless, either plan would give the Aztecs and their socialist government one black eye.

The Generalissimo sat back in his chair and thought, “This is the last one, if no one else replies, then it’s time to fight in the shadows and take this rebellion across the Union.” He began typing up another press release, “Even a small country to help us would be good.” Jorge thought, hoping it wouldn’t end like this.

=~=~=TRANSMISSION=~=~=

To: The anti-communist forces of the world
From: Generalissimo Jorge Leon Lopez, Leader of the Dominion of Panama
Subject: The Revolt against the Revolution

To those who seek to eradicate Socialism and Collectivism,

The Dominion of Panama needs your help. The socialist imperialists of the ANL are beginning operations to invade our lands. They have the absolute military superiority over us, and if we do not receive assistance, Panama will fall back into communist hands. This mustn’t be allowed, but we need help. I am personally begging all people who stand up for economic liberty to fight these oppressors and assist me in our independence. Please, we must stop these communists.

Any assistance would be greatly appreciated. We mustn’t collapse back into a system where we are forced to be reliant on the government. We must achieve our independence once and for all…


OOC: More like a fancy bump, but c'mon, I need people to RP with! It'll be fun, I've been on NS forever, I ain't no nOOB!

OCC:It's been a while since I've seen you around, ANL. I'll join, but I am goddamned tired at the moment, so allow me to wait until tomorrow to post.

OCC:It's been a while since I've seen you around, ANL. I'll join, but I am goddamned tired at the moment, so allow me to wait until tomorrow to post.

OOC: Yes, school got much in the way and hopefully, I'll get a bit more interest in this RP...Remember, all, this is open, and a chance to screw around with one of the larger socialist nations on this game!

Above the jungles of Panama, a squadron of AZ-21s, the work horse of the Red Air Core flew across the sky. It had been a while since these planes had seen any sort of combat. Although the oldest of the Aztec designs, they still had a dangerous edge to them. In addition, their low upkeep and unit cost was another bonus.

In the cockpit of the lead AZ-21, static roared in the pilot’s earpiece – years after the design was made and perfected, the engineers at Devonshire/Caldwell still hadn’t fixed the most painfully loud earpiece in the fleet.

“Orders from command…we are to proceed to the town of Bajo Boquete and assist in the capturing of the military base. Be cautious, they have captured the surface to air missiles at the base.”

The young fighter pilot looked ahead, in his mind; he couldn’t believe he would be destroying the base he was stationed at only a few months ago. Still, he had a job to do…With the flick of a switch, he told his other comrades in the sky where they were to attack.

Again, static pierced the ears of the pilots – “Squadron is to convene at Bajo Boquete and proceed with the destruction of the base. Estimated time of arrival, ten minutes.”

=~=~=~=

Bajo Boquete Military Base

On the base, the blast of SAMs roared in the midday and ascended towards the planes overhead. For the last hour, hoards of AZ-29s and 31s had been dropping their payloads on the base below. The ground shook violently as the napalm and silicate based explosions blasted through concrete and steel. More explosions shook the base as the T-85 tanks that were sent fired and detonated their shells and missiles on the crumbling outer walls.

In the control room of the base, the five officers commanding the automated systems of the base were in a panic. Although protected by concrete, steel and the dirt that covered the command centers of the base, the impacts were still nerve racking. The frazzled sensor officer looked over the screen, terrified by what he saw.

“Sir, more planes coming…AZ-21s…”

Above in the AZ-21s, the lead pilot looked down at the battle below him. Although the base was wrecked, he could tell where he was at. Suddenly, the sound of klaxons filled the cockpits…On the radio, the pilot yelled out, “Evasive maneuvers!”

An SAM tore through one of the AZ-21s, sending the plane spiraling and flaming down to the ground. The burning hulk slammed into one of the few untouched concrete structures, brining it down. Another AZ-21 crashed into the radar tower…however, unlike other pilot, this one was able to eject.

Missiles began raining down from the eight remaining AZ-21s…huge fireballs seemed to have exploded from hell itself, engulfing the area and destroying some of the ground vehicles. A radio transmission came over area, notifying everyone, “JWIs ready to recapture base…cease attacks and fall back to support distance.”

T-85 medium tanks turned their barrels towards the already damaged walls of the base and fired, leveling most to dust and debris. A few minutes later, the Jaguar Warrior Infantrymen stormed out of their barracks trucks and climbed over the ruined and fallen walls of the base. The rebels within the base began firing at the JWIs, causing several of them fall quickly, their bodies crumpling over in pain and some, in lifelessness. However, the sound of TK-140 assault rifles soon drowned out the other machine guns. In the battle zone, the JWIs took cover from whatever they could – rocks, crumbled walls, burning vehicles or crates. Bullets flew nonstop in every direction. Although several of the base rebel defenders had been killed, almost ten more JWIs had fallen to the ground with their blood spilt on the concrete. Although loosing fifteen, the JWIs outnumbered the rebels greatly.

The assault rifle fire ceased as the last rebel defender fell back in a hailstorm of bullets. The JWIs relocated to the center of the base campus, allowing the T-85s, barrack trucks and medical vehicles through. Medics scrambled out of their trucks, quickly assembling their medical equipment on the dusty concrete floor. Within a matter of minutes, the medics were treating the injured JWIs and, if they had the materials and time to do it, the injured rebels. Of course, only a few in Aztlán cared about the lives of the rebels. There was already broad popular support for the reintroduction of the death penalty, particularly the religious sacrificial kind the Aztecs are famous for. It was merely out of law that the medics had to even be concerned with the rebels – as far as most people’s concerns were, these traitors were already dead before the battle occurred.

With the go-ahead from Aztec Command, the JWIs mobilized again, ready to take over the control centers of the base. A Red Guardsman placed a large explosive over the steel door that lead to the command centers and remaining enemies and detonated it, sending more debris, smoke and dust into the thick, warm humid air. Through the destroyed door, nearly one hundred JWIs poured in, TK-140s pointed in front of them. The lights flashed violently as power to the base was interrupted and re-established. The air conditioning and environmental systems of the base had failed, making it even hotter and more humid inside. Commander Xihuitl Iztacín wiped the sweat and debris from his forehead and wiped it off on his soaked flack jacket. A red, dripping slash interrupted the tanned color of his arm. Seeing that there were no enemies in sight, he ordered the men behind him, all no older than 25 or younger than 17 to proceed into the dark and dusty caverns.

A few minutes later, they found what they had come for. Jumping from behind the cover of the walls, Commander Ixtacín and his brothers in arms kneeled down an fired almost blindly into the hall way. Leaning against the wall on his knees, the Commander looked forward, seeing bright, flashes illuminating the dark corridor. The sound of the weapons was painful and the sent of burning electronics, blood and dust made the air almost toxic. The JWI standing next to Xihuitl collapsed down, screaming in pain. A bullet had torn through his leg, nearly destroying it all together. Two other JWIs also lie down on the ground, either dead or in pain.

=~=~=~=

The commander of the base sat back in his chair, listening to the sounds of gunfire coming closer. Although not wanting to kill himself, he knew it was over. His career, his life, everything…if he was lucky, he would spend the rest of his time in a hard labor camp, one of the hidden jewels of the ANL. It was his choice to defect, his choice to fight, and he had no one else to blame.

The sound of gun fire died and silence followed. Only the sounds of beeping computers, energy starved florescent lights and the creaking of a ruined base could be heard. It was almost peaceful, almost beautiful compared to the sound of assault rifle fire and explosions. Suddenly, a C$ charge exploded, destroying the door to the command center adjacent to his office. He heard his luietenant scream out, “You’ll never take me!” Three pistol shots sounded…the commander thought, “I wouldn’t have expected less from him.” A short burst of assault rifle fire and screams followed. Commander Xihuitl Iztacín burst through the base commander’s door, TK-140 pointed directly at him. The base commander did nothing. With the other JWIs behind him, Commander Ixtacín slung his rifle across his back and walked up behind the base commander’s chair. Unzipping his flack jacket, and potentially exposing his body to death, he pulled out a hunting knife and wrapped his arm around the base commander’s neck tightly. In a low, angry tone, Xihuitl said, “You surrender?”

Not loosing his wit, the base commander said, “Do I have a choice, my friend? It’s ironic how at one time we were both at the academy, joking around, flirting with the pretty girls in town, and now we are enemies, and you have a knife at your best friend’s throat.”

Without changing his voice’s tone, Xihuitl said, “You xolopitli; Carlos, you betrayed me, betrayed the Aztecs and all people of the ANL, the Premier and the socialist cause. If I wasn’t under orders to capture you, this knife would be driven into your throat and satisfied by your blood.”

“The base is yours, and my future is in your hands. Are you going to give me what I deserve and kill me with my honor or are you going to let the socialist government do it for you and kill me by working me to death? What the hell are you going to do?”

Xihuitl released his grip on Carlos’s neck and pulled the knife back. He quietly said, “I have my orders;” calling out to his fellow JWI, “Tochi, please escort this man back outside and make sure he lives.” Xihuitl walked into the main command center and turned on the PA system. Although battered, Xihuitl said into the microphone, “huapalli tlaantli” – “the base is taken”.

=~=~=~=

The Generalissimo pushed a button down on his control council. A voice came over, "Yes, General?"

Lopez sat back in his chair and said, "I think it's time we bring this war to the Premier himself. You know what to do."

“Yes sir.”

In southern Honduras…

Three black cars drove down the jungle highway quickly towards a small village that no one has every really heard of or play any major consequence in the future. The night sky above gave the cars good coverage in an area so close to the battle zone. Although the socialists were expected to win easily, no one could discount the rebels’ first actions. Some would say it was foolish to allow any high priority person outside of the protection of the capital or the mainland. However, the bonds of family are hard to ignore.

The driver of the car looked forward, keeping an eye out for traps, hidden gunmen or other dangers. It was for good reason too, considering the important nature of the passenger in his care. He looked at the young woman behind him, sleeping. Sleeping accented her native features, and yet, even asleep she appeared graceful.

The car shifted up, and the whine of the hybrid rotary engine lessened. Although equipped with the latest equipment and almost perfectly environmentally clean, the engine’s typical sound never went away with the low fuel mileage and typical emissions. Some were irritated to holy hell by that engine sound, and yet, others loved it. To the driver, he didn’t care; he would’ve preferred that his passenger take the train or some other form of transit so he wouldn’t have to be driving in the dark jungles at midnight, but it was a job.

After the extremely drive from Mexico to the southern Honduras, the convoy arrived at the small village. It was extremely late at night, approximately 2 AM. It was largely quiet, and the only sounds to be heard were gentle. The sound of waves lapping on the quiet beaches a few miles out; the low crackle of a fire dying in the beautiful, warm humid night; and the sound of a few young people talking amongst themselves were all that interrupted the songs of crickets and other bugs. Above, the moon and the stars illuminated the small village. It had been a long time since Angelica had been home.

Although groggy, she walked from the car, bag in hand towards the house where she spent much of her teenage days. She wasn’t Honduran by birth, but because of the revolution, she was separated from where she grew up (which was destroyed), and the fifteen year old who eventually became her husband. However, it was here where she went into exile after her brother was captured, viciously tortured and left to die by the government pre-1997. As she remembered her youth, her father welcomed her with open arms.

“Angelica, it’s good to see you…”

=~=~=~=

She slept quietly in the room where she had once before. However, the sound of a diesel truck in the distance woke her up. He looked outside at the gray overcast and fog that had engulfed the village. Although not yet visible, the sun had just began poking above the horizon, producing a fiery yellow hue over the sea, and colors of black and purple dancing across the western sky. Although wanting to go back to bed, she couldn’t resist the urge to get up and look at what time it was. She got up, walked up to the door and, reached to open it. Before she could get her arm to the door, the simple wooden frame burst apart, shattering towards her. Before she could protect herself from the barrage of wood, she was knocked to the ground by a man wearing military camouflage. The wooden floor rubbed hard against her back. Before she could do anything, she was covered by three other men and hogtied. As they carried her out on their shoulders, she looked over and saw her father, gun to his head and in a state of panic.

Not willing to go with her captors, she squirmed viciously, trying to throw the men off balance. One pulled hard on her long black her as she almost fell to the ground, causing her to scream in pain. The other two held her legs, which were still covered in the jeans she arrived in. Loosing his grip, the man holding on to her head released her hair, causing her to hit her head on the floor hard. Barely conscious and in pain, all she could do is watch as the men threw her into the back of a van. One of the men jumped in the back with her, the other two climbing into the cab. She felt the van jerk and take off in some direction, and the squeaky suspension irritated her. Although dark, she felt a hand slide up her leg. The man in the back with her spoke to her, “You know, seeing you, no wonder the Premier choice you to be his concubine; you are a pretty thing…”

The pervert was interrupted by his commanders in the cab – “Don’t try anything, damn it! You know what the General wanted, her to be alive and not yet interrogated. You want us to get all killed?”

The hand was removed from her upper leg. In her mind, a wave of relief spread across her. Her captor said darkly, “Hopefully, things will go my way.”

=~=~=~=

Quetzalcoatl Nochtli looked out from the bow of the SAS Aztlán, preparing himself for the upcoming battle. He was safe being on the Aztlán, battleships were fire support vessels and were placed further from the combat zone than the main fleet. His dark green soviet style fedora was blown along with his long hair in the ocean breeze. Not too far off, the enemy ships could bee seen by the naked eye – somewhat uncomforting.

“Premier,” his friend, First Admiral Thomas Ericsson, stood behind him. “I recommend that you go to the bridge, its better protected than the open deck.

“I was just on my way, come. What do you think of this entire charade?”

The Admiral looked disappointed, “I feel that we will win, although it will be a worthless victory.”

“How so?” Asked the Premier.

“Well, my friend, we never needed to go into this battle, and no one involved had to die, if it weren’t on the will of a few megalomaniacs.”

The two walked into an open door, leading into the interior of the ship. Two officers stood up straight and saluted. The two saluted back and walked on. As they walked, the door behind them shut and locked – now no one was outside of the protection of the ship.

“Agreed, I wish no one had to die because of this damned thing.” Quetzalcoatl said. “I hope that we are able to learn from it, though.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two entered the bridge of the ship. The lights were lowered, but the LCD panels and screens gave off enough illumination to light up the bridge.

The Admiral asked, “Any response to our ultimatum?”

“No sir.”

The Premier than stepped up and said, “Yes, I believe a warning salvo is in store now.”

The Admiral nodded, “Tactical, fire a warning salvo; repeat our order to step down.”

“Yes sir, firing.”

A loud explosion rocked the ship as the massive Iowa-Class style guns fired three artillery shells towards the enemy fleet. The resulting smoke from the explosion filled the air around the ship, and the three shells could be easily seen hurtling towards the other ships. With fire trailing, the shells pounded into the water and exploded. These shells were not loaded with silicate explosives; and paled compared to their replacements.

“Shells detonated successfully.” The tactical officer said…The Communications officer interrupted him, “Incoming communication, from Panama City…audio and visual.”

“Put it through.”

The Admiral and the Premier walked up to the screen and looking in – Jorge Lopez appeared. “Ah, Premier, good to see you are at the hands of your worst dreams.”

“What is it, Lopez?” Quetzalcoatl asked indignantly.

“Maybe you aren’t aware that I have something that you don’t. Someone very important to you has just been given to my control.”

The Premier realized what he was saying, “You…”

“Ah,” Lopez said, “Before you try to live the role of the valiant Aztec husband, realize that if you attack us, I will personally see that Angelica is very uncomfortable. If you give us our independence, I’ll let her live.”

The communication was cut…Ericsson looked to his friend and boss, “It’s your decision, sir…”

OOC: This was RPed through AIM between myself and the KLM (Ottoman Khaif.)

=~=~=The Bridge of the [i]SAS Aztlán=~=~=

Silence ensued after the Admiral made his remark. Not wanting to push his friend, who was undoubtedly stressed and angered, he said awkwardly, "Sir?"

Premier Nochtli stood up straight, "A small delay in the overall campaign...I know who to call when something like this happens. Connect the satellite phone with my friend, the Sultan in the KLM.”

Surprised by this unexpected order, the Communications officer said, "Yes sir, the phone is ready in the Admiral's lounge."

"Good." With that, the Premier walked into the next room, closed the door and grabbed the phone. "Alright, you can connect me now." This was more of an implied order. A few seconds later, the typical ring was produced in the ear piece.

=~=~=The Office of the Sultan, Istanbul=~=~=

At the Sultan office, it was around 5 o'clock in the afternoon, the Sultan was about to leave his office for a quick, then phone rang, he thought to himself "DAMN IT..yet another phone call..." Then he read the caller I.D. "I'll be damn its the Premier of ANL.." He remarked to himself and quickly pick up the phone and said "Hello?"

Glad to have made a contact without the damn satellite going crazy, the Premier began, "Hello Sultan Bashir, How is everything going in the KLM and with the family?”

"Everything is well, my friend....the family is doing good..." The Sultan could sense something was off in the Premier voice "So how’s everything in your parts of the world...and how’s the family?”

The Premier "Yes, these parts of the world are a bit turbulent right now. We're currently fighting off a coup in Panama. Not quite the capitalists or fundamentalists we used to fight off. We're doing ok, but one impediment has developed, and it involved my family."

Although knowing the line was secured, the Premier still felt a bit nervous about some curious journalist receiving word of this problem.

Continuing on, Quetzalcoatl admitted, "Yes, these rebels have resorted to kidnapping my wife and using her as a bargain for independence."

The Sultan maintained his calm and said “I am sorry to hear that my friend...to resorted to kidnapping your wife and use her as bargaining chip for independence; such a major insult...I offer my friend with any type of aid...just name it and I'll send as fast as I can."

"You are a good friend indeed," happy to hear this, the Premier continued. "The rebels will be on the look out for any of our agents - although we haven't detected any attempted break in to the computers or networks, they do control some buildings that have access to agent personnel files and other things. Although we switched all of our codes, and I still have faith in our intelligence agencies, they may be able to detect our agents quickly. This is a risk too great - I was wondering if we were to provide all the intelligence we have, if you can send some of your agents to recover her.”

The Sultan, intrigued said, "What kind of agents are you talking about my friend; special ops?"

Across the world, the Premier smiled, only one word could suffice, "Precisely."

“Well then, the Black Hawks are suited for the job...I can send 12 Black Hawk officers that are highly train for such missions...just give me two days to get the team ready and to be sent to you.."

Feeling better and more at ease, Quetzalcoatl said, "Very good, that will give us enough time to solidify our intelligence...After this debacle, as usual, you and your family are always invited to the ANL."

The Sultan replied "One of these days; I shall take that offer up my friend; one of these days when things aren't to chaotic in Istanbul.” Changing the subject, the Sultan said, “Sleep well my friend - you shall be with your wife soon; I promise you that."

"I've never doubted you or the abilities of the Black Hawks;” with a recharged, possibly malignant voice, Quetzalcoatl said, “I look forward to seeing these dishonorable cowards who did this receiving the KLM's brand of justice” Moving back to his more professional role, he said, “Thank you very much."

The Sultan concluded, "You’re welcome, my friend...anytime."

"Take care," and with that, the Premier hung up the phone, and picked it up again. The communications officer, surprised, said, "Sir, you need to make another call?"

"Yes, get me the AIA; I have an ear to chew out and some new orders to give. In addition, tell the rebel leader that we are falling back our naval task force...for today."

After the Phone Call with the Premier of ANL, Sultan Bashir made a few phones to a number of Intel Heads within the AMI to get a Black Hawk team ready within a moment notice for the mission recovering the Premier wife. The team consisted of 12 Black Hawk special operations officers they were the follow, it in order of rank…The Overall Leader Colonel Amcazade Hüseyin Pasha Köprülü, a season veteran of the Black Hawks, then there Lietutenant Colonel Alexander Beliavsky, Major Konstanitin Alexandrovich Stukov, Major Muhammad Najib ar-Ruba’I, Flag Rank Captain Boris Fyodorovich Godunov, Flag Rank Captain Mohsen Makhmalbaf, Captain Marius Tucă, Lieutentant Vladimir Mikhailovich Komarov, Lieutentant Cheng Man-ch’ing,Lieutentant IvazzadeYusef bin Seyyed ,Lieutentant Mehrdad Navid ,and Lieutentant Gulzar Javed. The team call sign was the Angels of Death, their unit was one of the most brutal units within the AMI Black Hawks Corp.Yet they had a high success rate in their mission and just were a prefect choice for this mission to rescue the Premier of ANL wife.
They were known for not wasting time; they quickly got on the next plane to Tenochitilán, which took about ten hours to reach the city. When the plane landed at the Airport, they got out of the plane dress in Black Hawk black uniforms and were greeted by the KLM Ambassador to ANL Dr. Hovhannes Javed Babak Taniel( a Armenian-Persian) and number of ANL officals.

Overlooking the crowded capitol of his nation, Premier Quetzalcoatl Nochtli thought about his surroundings again. Yet another helicopter, a military transport, something that most people would assume would be too undistinguished for a national leader. The two AZ-21 flying higher than the helicopter, yet not out completely out of eye sight may make some feel nervous about attacking it. The metropolis below was a vast area of steel and concrete; gardens and high-rises, rails roads, highways and canals, something to marvel at considering how it only took a few years to achieve this. Yet, all of this was as fragile as life itself – this was created by human mind, human desire, human muscle and humanity itself. Nature could undue this in a heart beat, and so could humanity. Amongst the vast city, any threat could hide…That was the problem about helicopters, they allowed the Premier to think deeply and forget about the infinite amount of problems that a centrally planned economy and government has – and with over 40 hours of air time in the helicopters over the last several days, the Premier has done a lot of thinking.

“Sir, we’re approaching the KLM’s embassy, Dr. Wellington is just arriving as well.”

“Good,” the Premier said, slightly distracted, “You know what to do.”

“Yes sir.”

The helicopter landed on a helipad. Although there were many languages within the ANL, much of what related to government was done in either English and Spanish – the native language of the ANL was extraordinarily difficult, at best – in an attempt to prevent the government’s ethnocentrism and encourage international involvement, the nation was willing to practice compromises.

The Premier stepped out, looking for his colleague, Dr. Wellington. He quickly spotted the taller than usual Dr. Wellington, dressed up in suit and tie like how a professional should – much more formal than what the Premier usually wore. However, even Quetzalcoatl was more formal, still wearing his soviet fedora and dress clothing. This was serious business.

Dr. Wellington walked up to his superior, “Premier, glad to see you here.” The Premier said in a casual manner, “I have no concerns right now…if we capture her, we can attack; if they harm her in any way, we’re going in full force.”

The two walked passed the helicopter and into the embassy, winding through the cooridors until entering the area where the KLM soldiers were at.

The Premier knocked on the door, opened it and walked in. The ANL officials inside were Dr. Robert Thompson, the Vice-Minister of Foreign Affairs, Minister of War, Chief Warrior-General Tlanextic Zanzanili and the Minister of Intelligence, Victor Tonhuac.

The Premier looked over the Black Hawks – ‘Tough guys’, he thought. He stopped and said, “Hello army officers, Ambassador, I’m Premier Nochtili…I see you’ve already met some of the government’s staff. This is my Minister of Foriegn Affairs, Dr. Darius Wellington.”

Ambassador nodded his head to the Premier and the Foreign Minster and said in Spanish “ Its good to see you, Premier…I wish grounds for this meeting would not so dreadful..”

Then Colonel Amcazade Hüseyin Pasha Köprülü cut off the Ambassador, since he couldn’t stand small talk . He speak in English “ Premier let us get to the point, we’re send here to help get your wife back…please debrief us on the latest Intel that you have on the matter…cutting short the small talk…but we must get this mission start asap…time is not our friend, sir.”

“Agreed,” the Premier said to the agent, “Alright, here is the latest intel…”

The Minister of Intelligence pulled out a folder from his coat and put it on the table. Some would say such transfer of highly classified material was dangerous and idiotic. However, the security detail attached to the Minister of Intelligence was personally chosen, a bit over the top, but good.

“Here are some satellite pictures, I have copies available to you in any media you want – paper, digital, whatever. We are certain that the truck that kidnapped his wife is located in the north-western part of the state, in the town of David. There has been little traffic to the city and that sector of the city, as we still control the near by city of Boquete and the only road out of that city. We’ve been given time to withdraw our troops out of that city, which we have no intent of doing in any case.”

The Minister of Intelligence continued, “This is the building that’s highly likely to have the Premier’s wife captive. It’s a small, square building, but is three stories tall – two floors above ground and one bellow. We have the Planning Commission’s designs of the building, which we will give to you. Knowing these rebels, it’s possible that the building will be booby trapped, so be aware of your surroundings at all time. We believe also that the truck is capable of making radio transmissions and should be jammed after you infiltrate the area – we can supply you with jamming equipment if you so wish. We have also detected snipers in the windows when we tilt our cameras at another angle and use thermal imaging. The main streets of the area are visible to the snipers, but there is a small alley way leading through the back which is not fully visible.”

“Although unlikely, there is the possibility that she is being held here, a small shack away from town. Although schematics of the building show no underground corridors as its right next to a gas line, it’s possible that such a tunnel has been constructed. There are usually two people located by the cabin, probably two more inside. This cabin is not listed on the Development Commission’s records and thus, we have no other data regarding that building.”

“We have passage for you via military transport to the border of Costa Rica...You will then be trasported to the village of David and commence. Are there any other questions?"

Colonel Amcazade Hüseyin Pasha Köprülü was in deep thought and was busy distilling the information and after thinking it all out, he said” The most unlikely is the most likely possible outcome, therefore she is most likely being held at the cabin, since there is possibility of a underground tunnel. It would the must logically place to hold her, since it would be easy to move her out, if the area comes under attacked, therefore…we’ll go after the Cabin.”

Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Beliavsky nodded in agreement and said” Also our mission must take place at night…when chances of accomplishment are highest for us. Also we thank you for you offer of equipment, but there is no need..we bought our own equipment with us..” He took a quick look at his watch and said” Thank you for your debriefing Premier, all we need now is place to get ready for the operation and we’re good to go.”

Victor Tonhuac said, “Yes, we have several areas all set up for your usage here, in Costa Rica and Panama. All the information you will need is in this embassy now and ready to pick up before you leave…”

=~=~=~=

A secret telegram was sent to every Ministry in the government. To some of the ministers, this would be a surprising move, but yet, it was expected. Any news of the Premier’s kidnapped wife would be embarrassing, at best. It would make the ANL look incompetent, weak, something that wasn’t needed. However, the ministers of the government knew that things were changing, and the relationship between the government, the media, and freedom of speech was going to change…

To: All Ministers of the Republic
From: Quetzalcoatl Nochtli, Premier of Union
Subject: Media and Panama

From now on, we limit what we say about the conflict in Panama – no references to Angelica or the reasons why the separatist movement wants to dissolve the Republic…Any questions from the media must be denied. Leaks of military plans must be sealed and prosecuted…

OOC: Again, RPed over AIM between me and OK.

”Plans, no matter how well thought out, are never set in stone.”

LOCATION: Outside David, PANAMA

Aztec Air Force pilots were notorious for their friendly attitude. Although the pilots had kept an emotional distance from the Black Hawks, it was inevitable that one would slip up...Without thinking, the pilot of the plane said in an unguarded manner, "You guys ready to do this?"

"Aye…it’s fun to cut people heads off...you should you join us; it would be fun," Remarked Major Konstanitin Stukov - one could never let if a Black Hawk was joking or not.

The pilot sat back, unsure...Of course, he had a good excuse not to go, he had to fly the plane and his co-pilot/navigator was still a trainee. Trying not to offend his counterparts, the pilot said, "I think I'll have to take a rain check on this one...this isn't exactly a computer guided jet fighter, so someone needs to land it." In his mind, he hoped that the agents would be "ok" with that response.

After a few minutes of relative silence (how quiet can it get on a plane, anyways), it was time for business. The pilot spoke up again, "We're approaching the drop-off zone...You’re clear to begin your jump."

"Aye, aye Kaptain...we shall get on our way...." remarked Stukov and they Black Hawks began to jump out of the plane. As soon as the last Black Hawk had jumped out of the plane, the pilot reset his course. Although the AIA was able to fool the rebel's radar systems, there was no need to stay behind enemy lines...Quickly, the plane turned and headed back for Costa Rica. Soon enough, a stealth transport would be entering the area to pick up the Black Hawks and the Premier's wife upon the completion of the mission.

Upon landing, the Black Hawks set up camp and waited for the sun to fall. The Black Hawks work best at night and wanted to travel in darkness before they made their move on the rebel base.

By nightfall, they began their march on the rebel base; they kept quite for the entire hike, always keeping an eye out for rebel patrols...

The area around the entire town was eerily quiet. Although the area had been once a small, somewhat poor city, by now it had become completely desolate. The main roads and trails were rigged with motion sensors. Although these sensors simply turned on lights, these flood lights were blindingly bright, and clearly visible for at least a mile. Also, around these roads were booby traps - trips, bear traps, in some of the areas closer to the city, even explosives. Guards also patrolled the area...These people were a mixture of fanatics and captured civilians, some were there because they believed in the cause…others were there because they were forced at gun point – however, even the most peaceful of people can be brought to arms. The rebels were able to garner a variety of weaponry - from melee weapons to assault rifles. Most of them carried the now out-of-date AK-74. However, some were able to use the vaunted Aztec AZ-138. Meanwhile, almost every building was garrisoned by snipers. Even the most benign looking hut mustn't be trusted. Inside the city itself was radar towers, which were, to the surprise of the rebels but not that of the AIA, were on the fritz still. Had they detected the aircraft and its parachuted cargo, Angelica would probably be dead by now. The main communications centers were also within the city, heavily guarded.

The Black Hawks avoided all the main roads and traveled on edges of jungle. They stopped, dressed in all black combat uniforms, with black ski mask and night vision goggles. Colonel Köprülü nodded his head to men to begin enacting the battle plans, their first goal to cause chaos within the rebel ranks and then go for the hut where their intelligence has told them where the Premier’s wife is being held.

The Black Hawks had AK-103s, FN P90 Submachine guns, HK USP Handguns for the assualt officers of the team. As the for Sniper officers, they had a Dragunov SVD sniper rifles and the close support officers a Saiga 12 shotgun and RPG-29.

"Alright men...lets being out the TNT!" said the Colonel. On that order, all the Black Hawks pull out all their TNT sticks (four each). They roughly had 40 sticks of TNT with them, and piled them up at the base of large tree was roughly 400 ft away from the base itself. They put timer on the pile set for 20 minutes, enough time for them to go around the base to hut and get to the hostage, Their main goal with TNT going off, was to distract the rebels long enough for their plan to work and have one massive fireworks display.

20 minutes later...a massive explosion occurred. "Like clockwork..." remarked Lieutenant IvazzadeYusef bin Seyyed. Now the Black Hawks waited in the dark to see the rebels leap to action to the explosion to the north of the base

The massive explosion certainly got the attention of the rebels...In the city the concussion of the TNT shook not particularly hard, but noticeably. A group of twenty rebels left the main building and jumped into an old, rusty jeep. If one were to look hard enough and remember, the jeep still bared the rusted out, scratched insignia of the old government before the ANL. Some would be amazed by how old some things the nation were. Quickly, the old jeep started and headed down the explosion site. Meanwhile, many rebels began to come out from the surrounding forests, assault rifles in tow. Clearly, the Black Hawks had garnered their attention.

The Black Hawk were happy that everything was going according to plan...they were now south of the base and near to their goal...now for phase two of their plan. The Colonel nodded to his men to load their RPGs with specially designed rockets full of tear gas and pepper gas (roughly four RPGs were load with one of the two) and the Colonel nodded to his men to put on their gas mask on, which they did quickly. Then the Black Hawks began their assault - they began firing off their RPGs of Tear Gas, and they began to throw flash bang grenades or just “plain” high yield stun grenades. As they made their assault on the rebels’ lines, the four Black Hawk snipers provided cover fire and support by knocking rebel sharp shooters. It was one scary sight, seeing these men dress in black come out of the fog, and with a AK in one hand and saber in the other, the next thing you notice...your head rolling away from your body...that was how fast was the Black Hawk attack

The noise from the surprise attack caught the base commander in the center of the town off guard. "What the hell?" He looked outside, in the far south, dark clouds emanated from beneath his view and the sound of assault rifle fire slashed through his ears. He caught the closest peon and said, "Tell the God-damned command we're under chemical and ground troop attack!"

Meanwhile, the rebel troops that were caught in the Black Hawks fire quickly fell. It was as if before they could even fire a shot, they were either on the ground or decapitated. As far as the command structure knew, this was an Aztec attack...but those rebels fighting on the ground knew this wasn't at all. The rebels who went to investigate the explosion were also caught off guard. They quickly scrambled up and headed back to the south...the troops on foot wouldn't be able to reach it quickly, possibly allowing them to live to tell the tale.

As the Black Hawks fought and killed the rebel troops with ease, they were in range of the hut. The Colonel was yelling in his headset to his other officers "We are within range of the hut, repeat are within range covers...we are going in". Then the Colonel and Major Stukov saw two rebel guards station at the door, ready for anything...anything expect the Blacks Hawks...The Colonel and Major threw their sabers right at the two guards heads. Both sabers hit the guards right between the eyes. Then the Colonel and Major threw more flash bangs and tear gas at the hut before they and the others stormed it or fired at anything that moved. As they killed the guards and they saw the Premier’s wife tied up.

Angelica was shocked from the attack...However she quickly recognized the tactics were not that of the ANL intelligence or military. The only branch to formally use any sort of blade weapon in the ANL was the JWIs, but these sabers were unlike anything she had seen in the ANL, something she remembered seeing from her travels. Quickly, she said, "I take it you aren't here to kill me?"

"Apparently not...AMI Black Hawks at your service...not we don't have time to chat...put this gas mask on and lets get going." said the Colonel, then one of his officer quickly untied her.

After she was freed, she got up and, without any resistance put on the gas mask quickly. She knew how to do it thanks to the drills the government had her do. With that done, she said to her liberators, "Thank you so much, let's go."

"Very well..." remarked the Colonel and said the following in his headset "Let’s get going; repeat we have the hostage...meet at e-vac point...set off all the tear gas bombs and TNT now!" When the Black Hawks were moving into place for their attack, and place a great number of bombs to provide them a good cover for their retreat...and now they were going to use it. The cover fire allowed the Colonel, the Major and Angelica enough time to meet with up with the other Black Hawks who were waiting for them.

"Everyone accounted for?" asked the Colonel

They all nodded, and with that the Black Hawks quickly fled the area with Angelica

Then five minutes later, a massive series of explosions began to go off a mix of tear gas, TNT, napalm and etc...it was a call mixed bag by the Black Hawks. This was designed to cover their retreat. As they head ran off, the Colonel yell into his headset which was patch to ANL command "We have her, repeat we have her...send in our transport over!"

The helicopter, only a few miles away pushed forward full throttle...now, it didn't matter if they were detected. Gunfire occasionally streaked from below as rebels fired blindly at the black machine, unsure of its exact location. Occasionally, it would fire a burst of bullets from its chain guns, destroying jeeps and killing troops edging in closer to the Black Hawks from the north.

The helicopter began its dissent towards the landing zone...only a few more minutes. As soon as it was out of the line-of-site from the northern troops coming in, the helicopter activated its landing lights and made a hard landing. The door on the side opened up, giving the Hawks and Angelica access way into the helicopter.

"Well Gentlemen…what the fuck...we are waiting for get in...as fast as you can!" yelled the Colonel.

All the Black Hawks and Angelica got into the helicopter…With the last of the team on board, the pilot jammed up, giving the helicopter lift...The armored side door of the helicopter closed and pushed into the night...

The pilot of the transport, a captain by rank said, "Good thing we're out of there, Central Command has ordered a full scale invasion of the area."

"Oh goody..." remarked the Colonel and he pull out his PDA and began writing up his report, he then looked at the Premier’s wife and asked Angelica "Do you need any medical attention or anything?

Angelica replied, "No, I'm fine...If anything, I just have a bruise and a cut or two."

"Very well." replied the Colonel and he went back writing his report on PDA.

An exhausted Victor Tonhuac looked up as he listened to the radio transmission from the mission, “Sir, we have her.”

No doubt, his nemesis knew of this turn…The Aztecs would have to act fast.

Quetzalcoatl Nochtli knew as he drew his breath to speak that he was condemning masses of people to death. To set brother against brother was an aggregious crime – through the use of the media, the Aztec government had made murder an act of family betrayal. He felt shivers as he uttered a command he wish he never was forced to say.

Quetzalcoatl pushed down on the communications button in the central military command. Although the moment was personally dramatic for the Premier, there was no cliché silence or pause in the bustling of the officers in the command center…It was an odd moment, one that he didn’t want to relive, but seemed to experience frequently.

“All units; proceed to attack.”

The fleet of ships that had been placed near the ships turned their massive guns towards the relatively small rebel fleet. Meanwhile, underneath the waters, Typhoon-II and Los Angeles class submarines turned silently to bear their forward facing torpedo tubes at the enemy fleet. A large cloud of fire and smoke arose from the Aztec lines as the ships fired off their massive artillery shells towards the enemy fleet. Although silently, the torpedoes left trails indicating that their deadly payload was streaking ever closer to its opponents.

Meanwhile, the sound of jet engines burst throughout cities and jungles, plains and valleys alike as the Aztec Air Force began launching squadrons of planes to conduct bombing of strategic locations. On the ground, the Jaguar Warrior Infantrymen, the proclaimed “warriors of the people and vanguard of the union” quickly made their way through the deep jungles. Meanwhile, the Red Guard slowly made its way on the main thoroughfares. The rumble of T-85s, T-96s and T-98s shook the very core of the lush Panamanian terrain.

Back in the so called “War Room, the Premier stood back, watching the digital screen show the location of Aztec troops and key targets. Of course, the Panama Canal was not listed as a target, but a facility that must be protected. This would of course be the first thing the collapsing Dominion would destroy. However, if they could save it, they would.

Still hoping for a peaceful end, Quetzalcoatl said solemnly, “Tell them that this is their last chance for a peaceful end. If not, we must carry on with grim resolve.”

OOC: Last chance to help the anti-communist rebel nation...

Recognizing that at this point any chance for victory was dashed away, the soon to disposed Generalissimo looked out of the window – the streets shook as the ANL’s bombs dropped all around them. Any action, at least in the short run, would be futile and worthless. But this was all too reminiscent of the 1987 revolutions in which the communists almost won. It would take only a few more years of staying in the darkness to be able to overtake the former government and establish their bureaucracies, their courts and their systems. No rebellion can be instantly successful…it would take time.

The military advisor for the Generalissimo ran into the office, “Sir…”

Quickly, the Generalissimo grabbed his gun out of the holster and said, “First thing’s first.”

Three gun shots later and a thud to the floor, the Generalissimo walked out of his compound. A jeep with several Dominion troops inside was parked nearby. Quickly, the Generalissimo jumped inside of the jeep. Under the cover of darkness, the jeep plunged into the dark.

All was quiet in the General’s bunker, with the exception of the occasional bomb. Suddenly, a soft creak broke the silence – the General’s secretary squeezed herself out of the closet she was hiding in – she feared for her life when the General shot the advisor. She turned on the lights of the building – all the file cabinets were empty and all the computers were completing their drive reformats. Looking in the General’s office, a dead body lay; blood pooling around it. Terrified and fearing her safety, the Secretary carefully stepped over the dead body and reached the radio in the General’s office. Before she turned it on, she turned around looking at the digital map of the rebel’s locations. It flashed in and out as bombs pounded the power systems and interrupted hard drives. However, the damage to the rebel’s troops was clear – the naval fleet was heavily damaged and split. The troops were in no better condition…this had to end.

The secretary reached the radio and switched the frequency to the public channel – everyone would hear it…Gathering what she wanted to say, she was silent for a second and then spoke…

“The General has abandoned his government…with no one to immediately fill in the power vaccum, I hereby take over the Dominion and its armed forces. I order the armed forces to stand down, deactivate weapons and surrender. Furthermore, at this moment, I am transferring all legal, physical and political ownership of the Dominion of Panama to the United Socialist Republic of the Aztec National League…”