NationStates Jolt Archive

Battle Roads Airforce Station, Kulikovia

The largest Airforce base in Kulikovia was quiet this evening. Transport planes taxied down the runways while others did touch and goes for training. Sentries stand vigilant posts, mechanics work late on engines and it's business as usual. Radar stations surrounding the base were running standard sweeps, protecting the base from threats that training scenarios warned about. The men and women trained and trained. Other servicemen were out in town, having a good time, drinking and relaxing. Colonel Zuich sat at his desk, he was the CDO for the night and was a veteran of the Airforce and a career serviceman.

Jonensberg, Kulikovia

The capital was alive as usual no more than 60 miles away from the base. The Old City was a historic center of the city and a tourist attraction and a pleasant place to live and visit. Alexsandr Krueger sat on his couch in his flat above a book store. It was a quiet evening, he wasn't a heavy drinker but enjoyed a drink once and awhile. Some of his friends from work at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Language Department were out having a few rounds at a local tavern. He chose to forgo a drunken stupor and decided to sit on his couch and read a book. After some time he closed the book, set it on the coffee table and turned off the lamp. He went into his bedroom and undid the sheets and fell into the bed. He was tired and tomorrow was going to be a long day, he was being reassigned to another embassy. Krueger worked as an inturpreter and was good at his work, he was on a break before his reassignment. He set the alarm and went to sleep, the other side of his king size bed was empty, he sighed and closed his weary eyes.

Kazimir Gorchakov, Chief Commissar of The People’s Federal Republic of Krendakov, looked over the information regarding The Worker's State of Kulikovia. At face value, a country that Krendakov would have little malignant interest in. But that was only at face value, because when you looked a little deeper there were signs of socialism beginning to fail in Kulikovia. The new Chancellor had capitalist leanings, and this worried the Krendian government. They felt that this was a sign of a possible move away from socialism and that Kulikovia would embrace capitalism. This could not be allowed to happen, precautions had to take place. Krendakov would have to be prepared to stop capitalism in Kulikova.

As Commissar Gorchakov flicked through the folder, he came to the section entitled “Military Information” ‘Ah, the important bit.’ he stated to himself, rearranging himself into a more comfortable position in his chair. He turned the page and got a surprise. The military information on Kulikovia was lacking, to say the least. There were no pictures of installations and no details on equipment and strategy. Gorchakov hurridly flicked through the folder, trying to find out if the information had been misplaced. His actions were in vain, however. There was no more information to be found. Grabbing his phone, Commissar Gorchakov hurridly dialled the number for the Committee for State Security, more commonly known as the Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti – the KGB.

‘Commissar Andropov speaking’ stated Sergei Andropov, the Commissar for State Security – head of the KGB.

‘Comrade, it’s Kazimir, can you come round to my office immediately please.’

‘Certainly, comrade.’ replied Andropov, and hung up the phone. Gorchakov put his own phone down, but then thought of something else. He picked the phone up again and dialled another number.

‘Hello, this is Commissar Oleskev’ stated the Comissar for the airforce – Kharald Oleskev

‘Comrade, it’s Kazimir, can you come round to my office immediately please.’ Commissar Gorchakov said again.

‘Of course, comrade. I’ll be over immediately.’ replied Oleskev before hanging up. This time Gorchakov did get to put down the phone and sink back into his chair while he waited for the two commissars to arrive and thought over what he would say.

About ten minutes later, Comissar Andropov walked into Gorchakov’s office. ‘Take a seat, comrade.’ Gorchakov offered, ‘I invited Kharald around too, he shouldn’t be too long’

‘Thank you comrade’ said Andropov as he took the proffered seat.

It was not long until Oleskev showed up too, in the meantime Gorchakov and Andropov had been engaged in a discussion about the security of the nation. ‘Come, Kharald. Take a seat with us.’ Gorchakov said, and so Oleskev did so.

Andropov took this moment to discover what was happening. “Comrade, I’m sure that both Kharald and myself are wondering what is going on. Care to explain why you would need the KGB and the airforce?’ he said, addressing Gorchakov.

‘There is a minor situation in a fellow socialist nation, their chancellor has capitalistic tendencies. If they try going capitalist we may have to stop them. However there is a slight problem’ Gorchakov lifted the folder, ‘we have no good information about the size and disposition of their military.’

‘What nation is this?’ asked Oleskev.

‘Kulikovia.’ replied Gorchakov

‘I don’t think this is a matter for the KGB’ said Andropov, ‘we can’t get someone in a position to know very well in a short space of time, that would take a long time…’

‘Some aerial photography of military installations is what you need. I can get men on that right away.’ offered Oleskev.

‘Make it so.’ replied Gorchakov.

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Ilya Griyoriev wandered across the airfield towards the barracks. He was wearing white shorts and t-shirt which were now covered in mud as he had been playing football with the men from the army barracks just next to the airfield. One of the recruits rushed over to him. ‘Hmm…’ he mused to himself, ‘he seems to have something to say.’

‘Sir…’ the recruit began.

‘Can I have a drink of your water?’ asked Ilya. The recruit scrabbled at his water flask and handed to Ilya who took a long drink. ‘Thanks. You were saying?’

‘Oh, yes, the Colonel General wishes to speak to you urgently, sir. In the briefing room, sir.’

Ilya threw the flask back at the recruit as he walked off. ‘Thanks!’ he called back.

Only the Colonel General and Ilya were in the briefing room. This didn’t worry Ilya at all since he had taken many solo clandestine missions before. The Colonel General began to speak. ‘We have found that Krendakov lacks sufficient information regarding the size and deployment of the Kulikovian forces. Your mission is to fly to Kulikovia and take photographs of anything that looks like a military instillation.’ He pressed a button and a digital projector whirred into life, showing a map of large enough to contain both Krendakov and Kulikovia. A small graphic of an aeroplane was on the approximate location of the airbase in Krendakov, it started to move as the general continued his talk. ‘You will follow this flight plan which will be programmed into you aircraft’s computer and provided on maps which will be stored in your aircraft’s cockpit.’ The small aeroplane reached Kulikovia and the map started to zoom in and the aeroplane made it’s way along the coastline. ‘When you reach Kulikovia you will fly along the coastline first, detecting any shoreline defences.’ Now it started to move inland. ‘Once you have completed that task, you will head inland and photograph these airports and airfields.’ The Colonel General indicated some small aeroplane-in-a-circle symbols on the map along the aeroplane’s flight plan. The aeroplane headed towards the capital next. ‘Then you will check the defences near to the capital...’ The plane circled around the capital and then headed in towards it. ‘...before flying over the capital itself and taking photographs of the government buildings. Then you will head back here.’ The map zoomed back out and the small aeroplane started the way back to Krendakov.

Ilya stood up and started to walk off, but felt a hand on his back. He turned around to see the Colonel General. ‘This is an important one Ilya, don’t fail. These orders came directly from Commissar Oleskev.’

‘Have I ever failed, sir?’

The Colonel General smiled. ‘I wouldn’t want this to be the first time.’ Ilya started back off again and the Colonel General called after him ‘Be careful on this one’

Ilya turned back around as he reached the door, ‘I always am.’ and then left.

Jogging across the airfield to the barracks to get his gear on, Ilya saw the aircrew getting the spy plane ready. Its sleek black shape and turbofans were just visible in the shadow of the hanger. Nothing else of it could be seen of it. Ilya turned back to the barracks.

Stepping out of the barracks, Ilya re-adjusted his helmet that he was holding in the nook of his left arm. Glancing across at the hanger, nothing had appeared to have change. The sleek black shape and turbofans were still the only parts of it visable. He knew, however, that it now had a lot of fuel in its tanks, and all the waypoints set on the flight computer. Running his right hand back through his hair, he started his way across the airfield to the hanger.

Now that he was in the hanger, Ilya could see that there was a lot going on in there. Aircrew double, triple and quadruple checked the film, the fuel and the waypoints. Sure that everything was right, the cleared the area, and Ilya climbed up the steps into the cockpit. He checked the supplies, the air, the maps and the parachute. Feeling confident of the situation, he gave the aircrew the thumbs up and they ran out and pulled the ladder away. Ilya switched on the power and the system sprang to life. With another switch, the canopy swung shut and clicked into place. Another switch brought the turbofans on and the spy plane started moving out of the hanger.

On the runway, the spy plane say still, propellers rotating. Ilya spoke into the integrated communication system in his helmet. ‘This is chernota ready for takeoff.’

‘We copy chernota, you have permission for takeoff, good luck.’

The engines of the spy plane grew in noise level from a dull hum to a great roar, as the propellers started to spin faster. The spy plane inched forward at first, but accelerated quickly, eventually taking off. Ilya watched the ground retreat away, and smilied. He always liked a long flight, a lot of time with himself – all the barracks were communal so it was hard to be alone. It would be a few hours before he reached Kulikovia.

The night skies of Kulikovia were quiet except for passenger flights and occasional military excercises. The port city of New Archangel was bustling as usual with ships pulling in and out of the extensive harbor compounds. Archangel Naval Base was the largest naval base for the Kulikovian Naval Forces where the Sixth Fleet was stationed out of. There were airfields as well, not to mention a Revolutionary Guard Base just outside the city. Krueger was once a Petty Officer in the KNF and served at a shore duty station in the city. He had many memories from his few years in the service but it left him with invaluable training for what he would later do. Back in Jonensberg he lay restless in bed, tossing and turning. He finally grunted and sat up in his bed. It was late at night and he couldn't sleep...again. All of a sudden the phone rang.
"Hello?" he asked into the reciever, voice groggy.
"Mr.Krueger, it's Ambassador Gregor Yalta" an aging voice replied.
"Sir, what can I do for you?" Krueger sat up in bed and leaned forward and was suprised.
"I just wanted to call and tell you your orders came through. You'll be assigned to me to go to Krendakov." Yalta said.
"Thank you sir, it will be an honor" Krueger paused "When will the group be leaving?"
"Within the week. My assistant will call you ahead so that you can pack. Good night, Alexsandr" and he hung up before Krueger could thank him. Down the street a van was parked next to an apartment block. Inside, several men with listening devices and equipment heard everyword of the conversation and one of them made a call.

Bump

Ilya piloted the black spy plane down the coast, taking pictures of military installations as he went. Once he had completed the costal reconnaissance he turned the plane inland – towards the Kulikovian airbases. These would also be a danger to any mission that involved flying over Kulikovia if there were to be a state of war between them and Krendakov. The night sky was clear for now, and Ilya had had no trouble getting this far, he hoped fervently that his luck would hold. This was probably the most dangerous part of the mission. If he was deep into enemy territory there would be a greater chance of getting shot down if there was a chase. Ilya sighed and took a picture of the airfield he was flying over. It was going to be a long night. He took a bite out of the cereal bar and changed heading to the next airfield.

"Radar contact!" An operation specialist announced from behind the screen. The terminal on the air strip was busy tonight but they had a list of all the flight plans and every course and plane was accounted for...except one unusual blip.
"Make radio contact with it" The CDO directed as he paced over to the screen and saw a blip far off from all the others, perhaps it was a lost aircraft or just a glitch.
"Attention, you are entereing restricted airspace, check your readings and redirect your aircraft due north" the communications officer said and paused "No answer"
"It's a foreign aircraft, sir" The OS repeated to the CDO. He was stunned for a moment, they never had a situation like this before but had planned for it and trained constantly. He recovered and launched towards the phone to call up the 167th Fighter Wing.
"Foreign contact, this is not a drill...I repeat this is not a drill" he went through the proper procedures for alerting the squadron to possible enemy contact. As soon as he set down the phone, pilots rushed to their fighters as flight crews began to makle preperation. The MIG-29's were being refueled and armed for interception. The CDO decided against using the capable SAM sites scattered around the base and chose the old fashioned way. Two MIG-29's were then taxied towards the runway. The men on the ground guided them and they screamed off into the night sky. The pilots were experienced but had few actual real life calls like this one. They thundered through the sky towards the unknown aircraft. After several minutes they were approaching it. The pilot radioed the aircraft but it was silent. He depressed the trigger and tracer rounds shot off past the aircraft as a warning as the pilot continued to hail the aircraft.
"Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to land at Battle Roads Air Station. If you attempt to flee, your craft will be shot down" The pilot continued to give orders to the mysterious pilot, demanding he land or be shot down.

Ilya did not reply on the radio, knowing that if he did it would help them track him, not that they seemed to need that now – with two fighter-jets on his tail. One of them fired a few shots from its cannon close to his plane. ‘Not good, very not good’ he said to himself. Pulling the control stick to the side and spun the plane ninety degrees so that it began to fall – not having any lift. Then he pulled the stick back and did a quick turn while increasing speed to maximum. ‘This is bad, very bad…’

The pilot was getting frustrated with the lack of communication. He armed a missile and targeted it onto the aircraft. The other MIG continued to try and hail the mysterious pilot. While they did this, air crews were assembled to the airfield as well as Security Forces personnel being alerted and their vehicles approached the field.

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