NationStates Jolt Archive

Yertis Jus stood against a wall in the middle of a courtyard. Rain poured down heavily onto his tanned skin and slick black hair. He was wearin a tan trenchcoat, black loafers, and brown pans. Hidden on him were three guns. One in a belt holster, one in a leg holster, and one in a chest holster. If this deal went sour, he would be able to fight his way out. A sniper was watching the area and was in contact with him should he need to make a quick get away.

"This is Peon to Eagle Eye, any sign of the contact?"

"Negative. I'll keep looking. But remember, they probably know the area better than us. We've been here for over a decade but these guys are still much more experienced. We can't be sure where they'll come from."

"Alright. Radio me if you see him."

The man kept waiting. The contact he had spoken of was to be representing the local dealer called Cassius. He had contacted them about a job and now was Yertis was here to get the details. If they did the job, they would get a new cypher code stolen from the government by one of the agents before it was implemented. It would no doubt be useful in furthering the organization's goals.

Jean DeCell, a pale man with short black hair walked through the rain. He was wearing a trench coat with a fedora.

He walked alone, carrying only a .38 revolver under his coat. These guys he was dealing with were green, but they were ambitious. They weren't particularly dangerous as he had something they wanted, something they could only get through him. That in itself was protection enough.

He slowly and quietly walked into the courtyard, placing a cigarette in his mouth, approaching the waiting man. "You gotta light?"

Yertis took out a lighter from his coat. It was beaten up and rusted, once perhaps shiny silver. He handed it to the man and waited as he lighted up. Once he did he took the lighter back and tooked it back into his coat. He looked up at the now clearing sky and asked,

"You Cassius?"

"No. He had some business to take care of." He said, puffing on the cigarette. "And if I were you, I'd be careful about saying that name too often in the open. These snakeshits, the Siapian Intelligence Network, have ears and eyes everywhere. I kid you not, everyone I know who has said his name into an unsecured phone line is either dead or doing time."

"Are you sure this is the best place to be talkin' business?" He said, looking around the courtyard.

Yertis looked at the man in front of him and decided that he wouldn't have to worry about a double cross at the moment. The job was going to go alright from here.

"Siapian Intelligence Network, SIN. Funny name. Anyway, its fine. I got a place just in here. I wanted to make sure I could see you coming. My superiors don't like suprises."

With that, he opened a door near him and motioned for the other man to step inside. Inside was a small table with chairs, a kitchen, and a door to a bedroom. At the same time he gave his sniper a signal that he could leave and head back to HQ.

The sniper left him a few words on the radio as he departed.

"Be careful Peon."

DeCell sat at the table and placed a small device on the table that emitted a faint trilling whine. Specifically, it was emitting a wide spectrum of all audible frequencies plus a little extra on either side that would make it impossible for what they were talking about to de deciphered, no matter how much they analyzed the recording.

He then slid two slips of paper on the table. One was the phrase "I am" and the other was a two sided page of numbers and letters. "I will pay you what I make in a year if you can find the correlation between these two. And I know I won't pay anything because no one can."

"Now, if you want to be immune from any prying eyes, want everything you do and say to be perfectly safe, we have somthing you need to do. Specifically, we need you to send someone a message. This someone is very powerful, and as such, it needs to be a powerful message. Are you still interested?"

Yertis sat down too and shut the door behind him. He took a glass of water from the table and took a sip before answering.

"If the rewards are what you say they are, then this is certainly worth the effort. We are in. Whose the mark?"

"Two people."

He slid across a file. "The Deputy Marshall of The Siapian Intelligence Network's Local Threats Task Force, and an unknown man. We heard that he knows of certain leaks in his department, so he meets with all of his undercover operatives personally. He will be meeting an unknown witness in a tea house in Esmund, the capitol city of Siap. What we hope is that this will send a clear message to the intelligence community not to fuck with us. And to anyone who would rat us out that they are not safe."

"I have more supplemental information, but first you should know that my organization can help you get into the country with whatever equipment you may need. We can also supply weapons, if need be."

Yertis replied, taking another drink of water.

"Well, a foward part of our Siap Branch is here already, but more of them are waiting to come in. Before we can determine what we need, however, we need to know if you have any preferences about this job. Is there a specific method in mind?"

"We have no preferences, save that both targets are killed near each other."

"Understood. I think the best way to proceed and give the message is to do a shooting, possible sniping but not necessarily. We could possibly coat the bullets in a toxin, to ensure death. I have a few in mind but one of our toxicologists could help. So for getting the men into the country, I think that we would need around 15 people to get into the country. We already have several men in the nation, but these 15 would help. They will include the aforementioned toxicologist, several trained snipers, and a few other men that we will need. I think that if we can have them board a ship in international waters and then travel into your nation by being picked up by one of Cassius' boats, which I assume he has, we can unload them at a port and have them pose as workers. As for weapons and equipment, perhaps it would be best to acquire them from out of country, perhaps Red Tide Mafia?"

"It is your call. Cassius has had close working relations with the Red Tide Mafia, but he also owns several small arms factories offshore, so its your call."

He finished his cigarette, using the burning stub to ignite a second one.

"In terms of getting you in the country, we can pick your men up in a fishing trawler fifty miles north of the boundry waters outside of the port city of Blake's Point. It is too risky to enter Esmund, unless you are willing to be smuggled in via air freight cargo. From Blake's Point, we can arrange for you and your cargo to get to Esmund. Am I correct in assuming the men you already have in Siap are operating out of Esmund?

"I believe we should go by Blake's Point and then via land. As for our men already in the nation, yes, most are already in Esmund. One or two are not, but they are not going to be of consequence to the mission anyway. For the weapons, I think that perhaps you're right and that we should go with Cassius' weapons as they will be easier to get in to the nation anyway. Now, give me the details about the targets and I'll begin to arrange my plan."

"The LTTF is run by a man named Roland Miller. Born in Blake's Point, mediocre student and actually troublesome. Our dossier shows that he actually did time in the labor camps after an unsuccesful truck hijacking. His sentence was suspended on the condition that he serve double the required service time for citizens. He joined the navy, went into naval intelligence, graduated from the Esmund war college and was transferred to..." Jean thumbed through the dossier "...we don't know where. This means he is not someone to be trifled with. Ten years later, he is declassified as a full-fledged SIN Intelligence Specialist, with an unknown number of years of service with nothing but exemplary remarks from superiors. Again, this guy is not a joke. Again, the nature of his work is not entirely declassified but..." Jean paged through the dossier "...apparently whatever he did got him noticed. And, like any good Christian, after a long life of service he is rewarded in the eternal garden of appointed political office." Jean closed the file and opened another, much thinner file. "Apparently, he is meeting with some mystery man who has buried himself deep in our organization. Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing who he is, as things are, uh, a little complicated now. We do know that Miller lives in an Army Recon base, which means its either in the desert and impossible to get into, the badlands and impossible to get into, or the mountains, where its a bitch of a hike, the locals trust no one, and its impossible to get into. What we do know is that in three weeks, he is coming out and going to downtown Esmund and will be at the Grimy Beaver Tea and Smoke House. They will be meeting there at 10 am two weeks from today. I don't have this on paper, but I know that they are meeting there for the precise fact that only the truly degenerate patronize that establishment at night, and probably for the raves they have in the warehouse next door."

He paused.

"While Esmund is the safest city in The Community, crossing the threshold into that establishment is like entering a different society. Its not a particularly large place, and nobody particularly powerful is there, but if you do go in there, do NOT drink the tea, especially anything someone calls "White Dawn." If you weren't raised in Siap, that is something you should especially avoid."

He took a drag on his cigarette and slid a slip of paper. "You have two weeks to get to these coordinates. From there you will be brought to Blake's Point. I don't know how far in your boys are, but if you go to the train station, there will be identification and train tickets in locker 1117. Its written on the slip of paper." He tossed keys onto the table. "The train will take you to Esmund. The only other way to get to Esmund is by either local air carrier or by the highways, most of which are privatized and overpriced in my mind. You get to Esmund, you have several days to do whatever. I trust that your compatriates in our nation could arrange for you to have a safe house. I don't care what you do, but it would be nice if you got the two while they were together. After that, things will be insane. You should probably lay low. On that same slip of paper, there is a phone number. If you call it, we will give you further instructions to get your code."

Yertis took the paper and the keys and then said,

"Alright then. I'll get the men we need onto a boat and they'll meet yours within the next few days. We'll let you know if anything comes up."

With that, he shook the other man's hand and opened the door for him.

"All right."

He deactivated the small whining device before pocketing it and walked out the door.

"We'll have the firepower you need waiting for you in Esmund. Give us a call when you need to pick it up. When you call that number, be sure to ask for Rooney."

"Alright then. Pleasure doing business with you."

50 Miles Outside Blake's Point, 0930 Hours:

Harold Makakis calmly stirred the wheel of the boat. The currents were somewhat rough but the weather was fine so he and his men had had no trouble getting to the designated meeting area. Most were below deck on, but a total of five, including him, were in plain sight, steering the boat. There was him and his crew, several of which were former marines, who were to handle the transportation, and later on, with the defense and escape of the rest of the team.

Speaking of which, the rest of the team included a toxicologist, 2 trained snipers, an arms specialist, 3 trained bodyguards, a commander, and two intelligence officers.

Makakis squinted outwards, to see if he could spot Cassius' boat.

A large, weather-beaten fishing trawler plowed through the water. There was an enormous pile of fish on the deck. A flare fired off the deck and two small rafts plowed through the water to the boat. The man on the first of the boats was wearing a beaten miltary vest and camoflage pants with combat boots. Disregarding any response from those on deck he sprang onto the side of the boat and climbed up to the guardrail.

Without actually climbing over the guardrails he said in a slightly accented voice, "Its nice of y'to come out on these waters, but I assume you know what your hear to look for, unless you don't know what your looking for at all, eh?"

Makakis stepped away from the wheel and handed it to one of the other men on deck. He waved a hand to the remaining men and they steadied themselves, clearly about to draw concealed weapons.

"We know what were here for. Drop the act and let us get aboard.

Why does the boss always hire pricks? he thought.

"Your ships await, boys."

He led the men onto the zodiac boats, and took them back to the trawler. "There should be no trouble getting ashore. Half the city is in our pocket." He said, helping the men aboard.

(OOC: Sorry it took so long. My first response was lost cause my internet messed up on me, and the past few days I have been really busy with stuff I've been working on in RL.)

Makakis replied with a cool smile.

"Good. The less fuzz the better. By the way, why didn't Cassius get one of his own men to do the job? Out of curiosity. He is such a powerful figure."

"Good. The less fuzz the better. By the way, why didn't Cassius get one of his own men to do the job? Out of curiosity. He is such a powerful figure."

"The hell would i know for? People who ask a lot of questions in our business end up dead."

"Point taken. I'm sorry I asked. I'm not to familiar with the setup of your organization. My superiors are, but they haven't shared anything with me. Happens to use Peons."

(OOC: That was me, I logged in differently by accident, sorry.)

OOC: No problem.

IC:

"I'll level with you. I've never actually met Cassius, and I probably never will. Legend has it that only four living people have ever met face-to-face with him. Then again, legend says that he rides his bike through the city every morning at six o'clock to get a newspaper and tea."

The man shrugged, and began talking agan.

See, I am a Chonthobhad, or One who Wanders. Foreigners call us gypsies. You could call me a pregnant dog for all I care. All I know is I do what I'm told and I keep my mouth shut and every couple years my ma gets a new trailer and I get a fishing boat."

"As for how things work, well, I'm no historian, but a long time ago there was a war. And they say that the people on this side of the country supported the wrong side. And the people we didn't support got control of Esmund. And the people who controlled Esmund bought control of the army, and everyone else is buried in a shallow grave somewhere out in the badlands. Legend has it that we are being punished out here for our role in the war by exclusion from the all the benefits the people in the south get. Then again, others say that this side of the country is shit because no one lets their kids go to school. Either way, Cassius runs the show here, no matter what anyone says. My three brothers used to ask questions 'round these parts, now they tell me that they are buried in the desert. So, for your sake, don't ask too many questions."


He stared far off into the ocean. "We'll be making landfall in about two hours."

"All right then. I'll get below deck and tell my officer."

With that, Makakis stepped below to where the rest of the men he had brought were waiting. The commander, a gruff man with a beard and several scars was talking to the toxicologist, who was a oily man with slick black hair and a hunched stature.

"Look for something that would be easy to spread from the blood. We don't even have to bother with a headshot and the mark still ends up dead."

"Well, there are several possible venoms, let me just.."

He didn't get a chance to finish before Makakis spoke. He gave a brief combination of salute and bow to the commander and then spoke,

"Our host says we should be arrive in two hours."

"Good. Until then, keep a look out. I don't fear a double cross, but I fear that the SIN might've gotten someone in relation to the mission."

OOC: Astute observation.

IC: The trawler slowly chugged its way back to the port, stopping occasionally to check fishing nets. When the ship finally completed its rounds, it arrived in Blake's Point fishing docks. The captain of the ship hoisted himself over and coordinated the longshoremen who operated the large cranes that unloaded the piles of flopping fish and crab.

A small, scruffy looking man yelled to the passengers below deck. "In about five minutes there will be a crowd, and an ideal opportunity to slip away, but they are almost always gone as soon as they come, so get ready."

Soon, a small group of people came walking on the pier and began placing bids on the haul.

OOC: Thank you.

IC:

As soon as the group came to bid on the items, the Wolf Pack agents left in groups of five. They wore poor fishermen's clothing and carried various different packs over there backs that looked like it would be some of their equipment and spare clothes. They kept their heads down, bid false goodbyes to the crew and set off in different directions.

The first group began to head to a nearby bar that was operated by a local Wolf Pack agent paying service to Cassius for the mission. The basement had been setup to allow the five to live there.

The second group headed for Yertis' apartment which he was renting in the city after moving there from the original meeting point temporarily.

The third group headed for some rundown buildings that Cassius' men had pointed out to them. After taking residence in the top floor of two across the street from one another, (2 on one side, three on the other), they unpacked.

All the groups simoulataneously began to check equipment and wait for the next day, when Yertis would call the heads of the three groups together so they could make their next move.

(OOC: Want to have a raid by the SIN or LTTF or whatever would do it?)

OOC: No raids yet. There is a distinct reason why Cassius is having your men do his dirty work. But your men will be completely safe until they do the job. I'll post IC when I get the chance.

(OOC: Alright. I'll probably put up a post soon with them moving into Esmund via the train.)

Secret IC:

Across Town

Jean DeCell and Mickey Renton, the captain of the ship who brought the Wold Pack agents into Siap, walked up the stairs. "You've done a good job Mickey. Those boys you brought in are extremely dangerous." Mickey said nothing.

"Look. The word is that the boss is going to have our crew go down to the Free City. Thats where the real money is! Can't you see were getting ahead?"

Mickey smiled, looking away. "Feck, man. They always say we can become noth'n if we from he-"

He was cut off by the butt of Jean's revolver slamming into the side of his head. "What the feck?" And Claude delivered another blow to the back of his head, drawing blood. When Mickey went down, Claude kicked him several times in the ribs and then brought his revolver down much harder on Mickey's head, creating a small but distinct crack. He then quickly tapped on the door and it opened, and a man wearing a painters' jumpsuit, a surgical mask and a hairnet stepped out and helped drag Mickey in, while another quickly sprayed the bloodspot with bleach before wiping it up.

"Right. We'll have his body taken care of in a minute." Plastic covers were all across the room, from the floor to the ceiling. Several men began cutting away at Mickey's body with meat cutters. "Boss says no evidence. Give me your shooter."

"What? This is the one i got for my service!"

"Sorry. Boss says."

"All right. Fine." He said, emptying the bullets from the chamber onto the floor. "Here." He passed off the revolver. Another one of the men quickly pulled a plastic bag over his head. "Sorry man. Just business" He said as Jean struggled. "Boss said kill anyone who comes through those doors, no matter what they say."

(OOC: So the captain and the guy who gave me the information are both dead?)

Yertis Jus waited patiently at the restaraunt table. The three groups were each going to send a representitive to meet here. First to arrive was Makakis, representing the group at the pub. Several minutes later, "Mr. Indigo", the leader of the operation arrived. After ordering a round of drinks, the group got straight to business, speaking in hushed voices.

"Jus, you've done a good job so far. You made contact and arranged a good system to get us in. Makakis, you too did well. You managed the men as we came into the nation. Now comes the hard part, the actual job. We all know what is going on because of the briefing I gave onboard. So, here's what I think would be the best plan to start with. One of us will go to the locker and get the train tickets and ID. From there, we'll split them up and individually get on the the train. Meanwhile, however, while this is going on, we'll work on acquiring transport out of the city. Jus, take Eagle Eye and pose as a married couple (OOC: Eagle Eye, the sniper from the beggining post, is female) of tourists. Rent cars from several companies with the money you've earned here. Get them for Esmund. We'll use them to get around and to an airport in the east side where the rest of the local group has gone to secure a plane. Flight 346, remember that. We'll use that to get out of the nation. Makakis, when we get to Esmund, get yourself and some of your men insinuated into the local area as a few people upset with the government. Not to much, but become known as "those guys down the block who want to burn down parliament". I'd like you to stage a demonstration at the other side of town when we go for the kill. Have some of your guys rile it up to a riot so the police are occupied and it'll take longer for them to get to our area, giving us more time to move. Any questions?"

"What about the shooting itself?" asked Makakis.

"Well, when we get to Esmund, I'll contact Cassius' network and get them to give us a safehouse near the outskirts of town, near our destination. I'll get the lay of the land by scouting out the area and then when the time comes we'll setup in the area with our snipers. All of them we'll be given the same rifles and ammunition, so it will look like a single shooting. The three will use radios to cooridinate so whoever has the best shot will make it. As soon as the shot is made, someone will jump up and act as if they are a member of your demonstration. I'm thinking a name like the 'Esmund Awareness Authority' would be good. This will cover our trail for awhile and Cassius can then give word to the government that it was really his work. We'll get the code module, Cassius we'll get what he wants, and most importantly, it'll show that the safety of the nation can be compromised if it is on its own. Any more questions?"

No one had any more questions, so Mr. Indigo dismissed them.

"I'll send someone when were on the train to give you more details."

OOC: Yes. It seems that your men are harbingers of doom.

Secret IC:

Blake's Point

That evening, across town, two men in track suits walked up the pier. The four men who were working the fishing boat earlier walked up to them. "We played our part in disposing of the captain. What about our demands?" The two men raised silenced .25 ACP pistols and fired shots into their throats. Then they quickly tipped them into the water where the local marine life was drawn to their blood. The men tried to scream but more blood came from their throats and more sharks appeared to devour their corpses. The first man in the track suit went to walk away and the other halted him. They both quickly sprayed ammonia over the bloodstains and then quickly ran from the scene.

Elsewhere

The man in uniform sat behind one of the many desks in one of the many offices that faced an endless sea of cubicles in The Siapian Intelligence Network Headquarters. "This is General Southern." The man said, answering his phone 'Yes. I understand the threat involved. I have a dossier right in front of me. Yes individuals of unknow origin entered the country from a point we had under surveiliance. I.....yeah. Esmund? Ok, yeah, I'll keep an eye on them. Ok. The airport. See you then." He hung up the phone.

A man in an obviously foreign suit and with a foreign accent walked into a car rental agency in Blake's Point. With him was a woefully misdressed woman, seemingly his wife. The two attracted quite a lot of attention, mainly laughter from passers by, who realized that the two were obviously a couple of tourists.

The man walked up to the desk and a in understandable but heavily accented version of Siapian (OOC: Its a language, right?) spoke to the man. After numerous repetitions of what he said and multiple hand gestures, the man conveyed that he and his wife were tourists who would like to rent a car for when they reached Esmund. The clerk gave him a price, and the man gave him the appropriate amount of Siapian money after a few minutes of talking to his wife about how the denominations worked. The clerk gave them a slip and the information they would need, and the man thanked him and left.

As soon as they were out of the building, the man and woman started walking down the street. In a foreign language, the two spoke rapidly and fluently to one another, without any hint of the bumbling personality they had displayed in the rental agency. The man spoke first, his voice quieter than the woman's.

"All right, thats the 2nd, we just need to go to one more. What's the name again?"

"Siapian Car Rental, just 4 blocks south and 2 blocks west from here."

"Good. After that we'll take the bus to our safehouse. You know, I actually like posing as a married couple."

"In your dreams, Jut. Business before pleasure, which in this case just means business."

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

Meanwhile, halfway across town, an elderly man in a somewhat ragged coat headed walked into the train station. He took a piece of paper out of his coat and walked up to train locker. Checking the numbers on the paper, he entered the combination into the lock and it clicked open. Taking out a series of train tickets inside, he headed back outside, locking the locker again and throwing the paper onto the ground.