NationStates Jolt Archive

The city of New York is larger than some nations-with well over 8 million people, NYC is a bustling metropolis, the market capital of the world. Traffic flows through its streets like a volatile metal river; underground, more than 1 million commuters a day grace the city's twisting subway system. However, NYC is more than simply a city of large proportions-it is an icon, one both national and international.

It was this day that New York City would host international views once more. Some of the biggest names from the biggest countries-the Union of the Russias, the Kingdom of Animarnia, the Empire of Futuris, and the South African Dominion-all coming to New York to convene, along with Republic representatives, at the building that had once housed the United Nations-now the Morgan Center, named after the larger-than-life business tycoon of the Gilded Age. The Morgan Center was more than the UN building had every been-a giant international plaza of all nations of the world to convene on neutral territory on nearly any problem or issue imaginable.

The Republic's largest names were there, save a few-Vice Chancellor Sam Brownback and Minister of War Colin Powell were off to Houston to speak with the Marxikhani and CAE representatives. Chancellor Frist himself awaited the other national delegates, flanked by Minister of State George W. Bush, Minister of Security Robert Gates, and Minister of Economics Condoleeza Rice. Other notables there for the Republic included Atlantic District Governor Mark Warner representing NYC and its respective district, Senate Majority Leader George Allen and Senate Minority Leader John Edwards.

Now they simply needed to wait for the others to arrive...

The Government Gulfstream Private Airliner touched down in New York its whining engines coming to a halt; it had been a long flight; the passenger High Elder Abigail O'Hara descended the staircase with two Security guards behind her. The two guards were dressed as in the traditional black suit, dark tie and glasses of most "MIB" agents.

Behind them was Miss O'Hara's personal assistant Wendy; Wendy was tall; slim; brunette and had black rimmed glasses that framed her face quite elegantly. In her hands she carried various files; a purse; cell phone, PDA and other things; she was wearing a white button down blouse open just enough to show some cleavage but not too much and a black knee length skirt.

Abigail herself was a tall woman with short-ish blond hair; some would say cut boyishly. She was dressed in a grey power suit and clung to her like a second skin. Her two bodyguards following behind the regulation 10 paces. She greeted the delegates from the NAR with a curt nod and smile

"Greetings to you Chancellor Frist; I bring greetings from our nation on behalf of her majesty and act in her stead" Abigail spoke her voice distinctly southern Irish; "I am High Elder O'Hara, this is my Aid Wendy and my two bodyguards Mr Smith and Mr Wesson" she introduced seeing she was the first to arrive

Smith and Wesson despite the obvious reference was there real names; both of them were former Blacks' "Black" being a term for George Black rather than Black operator. George Black was a legend allegedly having trained enough intelligence agents all over the world to start full scale wars and win. Rumour was he was now working for Sony as part of there shadowy Enforcement division

"Great to see you here, Elder O'Hara!" Frist said directly, his voice carrying as he projected. "We're proud to host the entire Entente in New York for this event. We'll just need to wait for the others to show up, which should occur soon, and we'll be able to get started. We have much to discuss-but I'm missin' my manners-glad to meet you, Wendy, Mr. Smith, and Mr. Weston," he said, extending his hand. "This is our Minister of State, George W. Bush, Minister of Economics Condoleeza Rice, and Minister of Security Robert Gates," First introduced his companions with a sweeping gesture.

The Dominion Dassault Falcon 7X landed gracefully at LaGuardia Airport. The flight had been mainly uneventful, mostly small talk between the 15 Dominion DSF Soldiers and the Prime Minister. It was enjoyable for the Prime Minister to talk so easily with the common people, even if the DSF weren't common people.

As the Prime Minister stepped out of the plane and smelled the air of New York City. It was different then that of Pretoria's; the city had an aura of invincibility that the Prime Minister knew was well deserved. As he walked down the ramp to the tarmac he brushed off his blue suit making sure everything was in order. He was followed by 15 DSF Soldiers dressed in Guard Duty Uniforms, which were dark blue.

He quickly entered an SUV with 6 of the DSF, while the rest of the DSF went into two other SUVs. The drive over to the Morgan Center was uneventful, with the Prime Minister just taking in the sights and sounds of NYC. He was loving it.

Once they arrived at the Morgan center, the Prime Minister quickly made his way to the meeting hall where he knew the Entente Meetings was going to take place. Four DSF soldiers followed in his wake, their Z88 Pistols securely fastened on their belts. The other Soldiers checked themselves in with the Security detail at the Morgan Center and immediately augmented the Security at the Center. The Prime Minister saw that he wasn't the first one here and made his entrance.

"Greetings, I am Prime Minister Charles Hansen of the Domion. I am pleased to make your aquantance Mr. Frist. And to you too Ms.... O'Hara was it? I am sorry I only caught the tail-end of your name." He said with a slight Afrikaans accent.

"Welcome to the Morgan Center and New York City, Prime Minister!" Frist cheerfully called across the large convention hall's acoustic space. "We'll be awaiting the representatives from Russia and Futuris when they arrive, but feel free to make yourself comfortable around here."

The An-70 touched down at LaGuardia with a slight jolt. The occupants were slightly sore from their long flight and immediately disembarked after taxiing to the terminal. The occupants of the plane, Chancellor Rovanovic, Field Marshal Koslovic, Admiral Degtaryev, their respective staff, and a contingent of 20 Naval Infantry in urban camo on guard, all made their way towards a line of waiting Mercedes-Benz C280 sedans out front.

The convoy of sedans drove down New York's crowded streets, passing many interesting sites and sounds on the way. Koslovic peered out the window and saw a vagrant reach into a trash can and drink out of a McDonalds cup inside. "Disgusting..." he said. It was the only negative of their drive throught the beautiful city.

They arrived at Morgan Center, they disembarked from their vehicles and moved into the conference hall. The guards, armed with Bizon-2's, made up the front and rear of the line as they approached a Frist standing in front of the door. Rovanovic stepped forward and reached out his hand. "Greetings, Mr. Frist," he said with his slight Russian accent. "It's been a while." he looked over at the other two representatives next to Frist. "And you must be PM Hansen. But you," he said as he looked at the woman. "I don't recognise you. What is your name?"

"Ja, you vould be correct, Chancellor." The Prime Minister said in his Afrikaans accent. "This Lady here, I believe is Ms. O'Hara. I am not completely sure since I only caught the tail-end of it."

Muhammad stepped out of the plane, closely followed by his bodyguard. The ten soldiers clad in black barely spoke, their sunglasses making them look like agents from a movie. But this was no movie.

When he finally arrived at the Morgan Center, he stepped inside, looked around, and said, "So, what did I miss?"

Abby shook the hand of Chancellor Frist; taking in the mans demeanour and body language he seemed like quite a cheerful man; open and 'fun' she imagined; she shook the hands of each of the ministers in tern with a curt nod and smile.

"Abigail O'Hara from the Kingdom of Animarnia; I am High Elder which; is similar to a Prime Minister. I have been empowered by her Royal Highness to act as head of state for this meeting; her highness regrets not being able to travel here herself but a fear of flying keeps her from Trans-continental travel.", she said with a warm smile introducing herself to the now arrived delegates of the Dominion, Russia and Futaris respectively.

"This is my aide Wendy and my Guards Mr Smith and Mr Wesson" she added. Abigail thanks the gods that she didn't have to wear the formal robes to high level meetings anymore; beautiful as they were they were also cumbersome and annoying. She took in each of the delegates in tern.

The man from the Dominion seemed open and genuine but serious as opposed to Mr Frist; the Russian delegate seemed harsh and all too serious; almost cold like the land he came from. The man from Futaris was distinctly Arab; she admitted to herself the Arabs weren't her favourite people; the Israeli's she liked but she took issue with any people willing to blow themselves up in the name of religion.

"You didn't Miss Much; just the Meet and greet" she said warmly

"Seems like everyone's in the house," Frist said warmly, "right time to get our meeting started, as there's plenty on the slate to discuss."

As Frist moved up to the head of the hall, two men in long black jackets approached Chancellor Rovanovic of the Russians.

"Mr. Rovanovic," the one to the left began in a low voice, "Name's Johnson-my compatriot is Simmons-both of the Office of Military Intelligence. We have information that some similar events may have happened to both our countries...and we'd like to find out a little more, than possibly have a proposition for you. You are completely aware about the events of the Baikonur Cosmodrome in your nation, correct? Or, if not, of the wide-speculated events of Roswell, New Mexico of the United States?"

As the two agents conferred with the Russian Chancellor, Frist began at the head of the hall.

"We come from nations spread across the globe, from all four hemispheres, from four continents. Yet we have come together in a time of suspicion, one of tension, of chaos and order, and of unlikely friendships. To this day, our five nations have come together under one circle-the Entente-to provide a circle of Order to a world that is frequently consumed by fire. Yet even our circle, the strongest wing of stability on the planet, has been met by opposition. The Triple Alliance highlights this-and although we have been working fairly well recently, some hotbeds-particularly, the siding of the Moroccan leadership with the Federation and with the moves and threats of the Central African Empire-have produced some concern. Another major area of threat, probaly bigger, comes from China-who have made some rather irrational moves as of recent, moving to cut themselves off from trade by several nations. The biggest question, the broadest, and the first I present up to debate-how do we stabilize the world's hotspots to prevent cataclysmic results?"

Rovanovic turned to Field Marshal Koslovic for a moment, whispered something to him, then turned back to the OMI Agents. "Yes, I am fully aware of the events." he said in a quiet voice. "I have Director-Colonel Romanov and a crew of GRU personell coming into LaGuardia later today. Is it possible for OMI to meet them there?"

OOC: If I may if not Ill Delete

Angry Protesting Mob:

The Angry Mob of around 30 or so waved Placards and generally caused annoyance to passers by and the Political Leaders regardless of who it was their was always a need to campaign about mother nature:

"Free the Earth. Stop polluting our Air" shouted a Protestor shortly before throwing a Brick at a car

"Don't Eat Meat" shouted another Protestor

Eventually a man climbed a lampost totally naked and shouted:

"Now"

As he had done this all 30 or so people undressed and became naked and started to chant:

"Free the Earth!!!! Stop Destroying our Future!!!"

Standing on the steps of the Morgan Center

Three UR Naval Infantry Guards, watching the entrance of the building, watched the hippies strip down and start shouting.

"Should we do anything about it?" asked a young Gefreiter.

"Leave it to the NAR Police." replied his Liutenant.

"Hey!" yelled the other Gefreiter. "Yeah, you, you tofu-eating hippies! Go save a forest or something!"

"Yeah!" shouted the other Gefreiter. "While your at it, put some clothes on! I know its cold out, but damn!" The Liutenant chuckled to himself and radiod the other teams that something might go down.

OOC: It's cool, Vetaka. Of course, my police are kinda brutal...when OMI agents are around.
Basically, time to make things funny :P

IC:

"We can do that, Mr. Rovanovic," Johnson replied, "this is regarding information strictly between our two nations and what radar operators of the Republic have seen as the imminent future. Of course, we will detail the entire story to your agents at LaGuardia when they arrive."

Johnson and Simmons walked off with that, exiting out the main door to the hall, and out of the Morgan Center completely. Outside, several OMI security-about the equivalent to Navy SEALs in training-saluted the men, before indicating the situation.

"We've had about thirty wackos causing a bt of trouble," the group's leader, a 2nd lieutenant, said. "Want us to take care of them?"

Johnson looked at the naked mob for a minute before replying.

"They like the environment. Let's show that it's dangerous," replied Johnson. "Deterrment, not destruction here."

"Can do, sir," the officer replied.

The OMI group waited about five minutes before seeing what they were looking for pass by-an Albertson's produce truck. The officer grabbed out a pistol, than rushed at the truck, jumping and grabbing on to the door and yanking it open.

"Police!" he shouted, waving his OMI badge, "I need this vehicle!"

The driver, significantly freaked out, got out in a hurry. The 2nd lieutenant hopped in, keys still running, and drove it to the curb, where two of the men yanked open the back as the protestors continued their nude ritual.

"Arm yourselves, men," the officer said as he picked up a banana. "This could be visually dangerous."

The other security proceeded to unload much of the vegetable and fruit matter into a massive pile at the front of the Morgan Center.

"Ready-fire!" ordered the lieutenant.

The OMI security began hurling fruits and vegetables at the protestors, while others advanced on them with stalks of broccoli, bananas, and other foods capable of being wielded. With the protestors being in the open plaza in front of the Morgan Center, the spectacle of the OMI guards dressing them down was drawing quite a crowd. A truck and trailer pulled up soon after the vegetable barrage, and two OMI agents opened up the back-releasing two freaked bull cows. Whooping and hollering, the two agents began running the de-horned bulls directly at the protestors, knocking some to the ground as they rampaged around. The crowd was getting a good time out of it, and traffic was moving more smoothy without as much interference in the road.

Abby watched out of the window at the protestors; the high rise room in the Morgan building giving her an excellent view of the city she raised an eyebrow as the protestors started to get naked. She couldn't help but giggle slightly reading the placards; "idiots" she muttered; "stop burning fossil fuel; fine I can support that go nuclear and these morons don't like that either; if these nuts get there way they'd have us all still living in the dark ages. I'm all for protecting the environment but you have to be realistic not idealistic. Nuclear power is clean, safe an with minimal environmental damage. I believe wholly in the Nuclear Fusion project and the Spanish and the Swedish have had some novel ideas for farming Oil from Plankton and using quasi turbines" Abby realised that everyone was watching her.

"Sorry" she apologised; "back on the topic at hand" she said simply.

"China is a large cause of concern for us particularly; they are on our doorstep and have been particularly belligerent of late. We know we couldn't stop them if they decided to invade; at best we could slow them down and make them fight for every inch" she said.

"Yes, China ist a problem. They are becoming more beligerrant as you have said." The Prime Minister said. "Sadly, the Dominion can do little to ease the troubles of the Kingdom of Animarnia. So I guess we must discuss ways we can eliminate China as a viable threat to the Entente."

On the steps of Morgan Center

The Naval Infantry Guards watched as the Agents made a huge scene with the protestors. Four more URNI Guards showed up to watch as the hippies were shown what-for.

Inside Morgan Center

"I believe that in order to rid ourselves of the Chinese problem, we need to incite some sort of political strife inside their nation. If we managed to assist rebel movements in the country, we may have a chance at subduing this Red Dragon." said Rovanovic.

"Or, Chancellor, it will stir the dragon from it's oh so light sleep. Any action by us assisting the Rebel Factions inside of China may only seek to enrage the Chinese. We must exercise caution and prudence here, this is a very delicate situation." The Prime Minister said.

"The nuclear arsenal of the Chinese is what most worries me," Frist remarked after several rounds of comments. "Though the rest of the world has more or less agreed to non-proliferation, but the Chinese remain the odd nation out...and relatively inclined to so use such nukes. We are working in Houston to force out Marxikhan and the CAE from trading with China in exchange for peace with their nations...though this is going slowly with the CAE. Marxikhan is remarkebly easy to negotiate this with."

"The USSM is a desparate nation, my friend." said Rovanovic. "With our strategic bombing campaign wrought upon them, they would be willing to do anything to save what little economical power they had left. As for China, we may have to fight fire with fire. It may be forced upon us to threaten them with the Entente's full nuclear armament if they even consider using nukes. That is a bit of a persuasive move not to use them."

LaGuardia Air Port

The Il-76 came in for a landing in the air port and landed with a slight thud. After taxiing to a halt, the doors opened up and twenty black clad, trench coat adorned officers exited the plane. The lead man was Colonel-Director Romanov, the head of the GRU.

"I'm afraid I must agree with the Prime Minister; aiding rebels in China could very easily backfire and force us into a New World war; China are capable of overrunning most of its surrounding nations. China's nuclear arsenal is indeed a problem; which is why we maintain our own nuclear deterrent. Threatening China with full nuclear retaliation could potential force them into a first strike. After all was it not Sun Tsu that wrote - the most dangerous enemy is the one with nothing to lose" she spoke to the Russian delegate.

"The USSM back is broken; they have paid the price for their attacks on Havana and they know it; they bluffed and lost. As for the CAE; we have a carrier group that should be arriving soon that may assist our NAR friends in operations should it be required. With peace in the USSM the full might of the Entente can be brought down upon the CAE if required" she spoke.

Abigail cast a glance to the man from Futaris he hadn't said anything yet; he looked to be absorbing everything like a sponge. Abigail tried to measure her words carefully at meetings such as these giving off the vibes of diplomacy and strength; she had always been told to try and bring peace wherever you can but don't be afraid to back it up with force and ruthlessness if need arises.

"Vice Chancellor Brownback is in Houston, and he is slightly more...persuasive on such issues. I have no doubt he can get the CAE into some sort of resolution...but if not, American troops are still in six Northern Central American cities, ready to move on, and three CVBGs of America alone are in the Caribbean. We would be honored to join with an Animarnian group to engage them if it came to that."

"As for the USSM," Frist continued, "I have given some thought to them. They know they are beaten-but we can still possibly turn them around. I believe we can place enough advisors and focus their economic reliability enough to make them totally dependant on the Entente. What I'm essentially saying is to make Marxikhan into an Entente Protectorate-keep it under our eye, but build it back up a bit in exchange."


LaGuardia

"Director," said one man, coming out on to the tarmac. Another followed him. They oozed OMI-they came up on a usually employees-only cargo distribution vehicle, and were wearing no employee badges...yet carried somewhat dangerous looking weapons on their belts. "We have a modified VC-137C awaiting to take us to our destination. Hop aboard.

(OOC: Speeding up to the plane...I'll just say everyone's on board)

With everyone on board, the VC-137C taxied down the runway and hit the air, turbofans at maximum level. It would be a four-hour trip to the destination of choice...one that was supposed to not even exist.

"That would be a most auspicious coup." Chancellor Frist. "To turn a former enemy into an ally, it would be a very momentous occasion for the Entente in deed."

"Well, possible ally," Frist reiterated. "I think we would need to have Marxikhan as more of a 'client nation' of the Entente before any serious idea of bringing the country into the fold could be entertained. As well, we would need to make sure that Marxikhani ideaology wasn't...wrong. As in, communist wrong," Frist said, going into colloquial for the last bit.

"Yes, the far left has some very odd ideals, but the left itself is a very nice ideal. Socialists themselves have found a nice niche in certain countries of the world. It is possible that the USSM could be turned into a Socialist state, but not a communist one. We also agree that they should be a client-nation first with the option of becoming a full member at a certain time." The Prime Minister said.

"Socialism has a sort of promise to it, but not ideal. Still, better than communism...which can only lead badly. However, with our eyes looking over their shoulder, Marxikhan may have a better future than it originally seemed. We will have to moniter the country...but it shall pan out how it shall. The Central American Empire, however, seems to be a worse problem. Out of all the world's countries, they seem to be the only one who feels sympathy to the Chinese."

Aboard the VC-137C

Colonel-Director Romanov sipped on a bottle of water while he read the Report from the Colonel aboard the Vladimir Monomakh. He sighed as he read that there was only one survivor for input and information. He looked up at the OMI man across from him and set the water down.

"Well, this should be interesting." he said to the man. "I didn't catch your name, Mr...?"

"Call me Johnson," said the man. "I'm just a courier, but I work on the higher-up echelons of the Office of Military Intelligence-and there was an encounter last night by a patrol of Raptors off of Hawaii's coasts."

Romanov smiled. Johnson...so typical he thought to himself.

"So, Johnson, what has happened to your planes?" he asked inquisitively. "Oh, wait, let me guess. Was it attacked by extraterrestrials? The bastards have been making their appearence known lately."

"Johnson" had already guessed that Rovanovic would know-and he did.

"Three of their standard fighter units-slightly improved on the type we captured in New Mexico 60 years ago-ambushed a full squadron last night. They were taken out, but eight fighters were lost. One thing that hasn't gotten out recently was a spotting by Palomar Mountain observatory in space-some disturbances in orbit of the moon. They don't follow standard movements like natural phenomena, so we can only assume of their origin. With the recent attack, we could call it more than coincidance. The meaning of all this isn't particularly clear, but from what we can ascertain on the spot, they may be gearing up for something."

OOC: It's Romanov, not Rovanovic lol.

IC: Romanov nodded. "I'm sorry to hear your loss." he said. "Do you remember the disappearence of the CNV MOSKVA, that Czechalrussian ship? When we found it, all of its crew were dead, carbonized. All save one. He is in Fortress Ural at the moment being interrogated for more information." The Colonel-Director's phone rang and he oulled it out of his pocket. "One moment, please." he said as he answered the phone. He listened to the GRU Op on the other end of the line and sighed.

"Thank you, Mikhail. Yes, warn the fishing fleets. Yes. No, do it now. Okay, goodbye." Romanov turned back to Johnson. "A Russian crab fishing boat has been attacked by them...it's bad. They have a recording of the distress call at central. I can have it linked to Area 51 via sattelite phone if you wish."

OOC: Is my guy on the plane too?

OOC: Is my guy on the plane too?

OOC: No, on the plane is a team of GRU personell and OMI. Your delegate is with the rest of the Entente, including myself and the NAR, in Morgan Center.

"I find the prospect of the USSM being a client-state of the Entente pleasing." said Chancellor Rovanovic. "If it is possible for us to get the USSM completely reliant on Entente trade and protection, we could easily manipulate them to do what we wish, especially if they dig a hole for themselves by going in debt to our loans."

OOC: Yeroops.

IC:

NYC

"Exactly," Frist commented. "It should be our goal to mold them into a productive image, rather than let them run free with radical ideals and fall into the dangerous traps of nations that lay out in the world-such as the Chinese. We must have a positive presence in Marxikhan to bend it to our ideals for the global state of affairs."


Over Southwestern District

Johnson simply nodded. He showed no expression.

"Let's link it up once we arrive at the facility. They have better processing systems so we can analyze details further about all these events. Computer scientists underground are on the problem already, trying to see if there's a mathematical pattern to all of this."

"ETA 5 minutes," came over the speaker of the plane.

"We'll be settling down to the airstrip shortly," Johnson remarked. "Best we can tell the Commissioner about all the events.

The executive jetliner extended its landing gear, then proceeded to touch down at a paved strip that seemed in the middle of nowhere. There was a few hangers and some small, municipal looking buildings around-all backing into the towering mountain range that provided a backdrop. The airstrip seemed to merge into the mountains. All around the facility, however, was something rather odd. Outside of the airstrip and small-time compound, and ringing a small lake, was a massive field of crops-that extended far outwards. Corn, grain, and other crops all grew in abundance, spreading for miles and miles outward.

The jet opened up its frontal doors, letting in a blast of powerful, hot desert air-made worse by the summer heat.

"We're here," Johnson said nonchalantly, "into the Devil's very own furnace."

Romanov stepped out of the jet and onto the tarmac. He looked out at the produce everywhere and let out a laugh.

"Some furnace." he chuckled. "I never knew they grew vegetables in hell."

The rest of the GRU contingent moved off of the plane and met Romanov on the tarmac.

"So, Johnson, where to?"

Johnson pointed to a truck-a 1950 Chevy-sitting near the tarmac.

"That's our ride," he said without emotion. "Hop on in the back, there's enough space in the double bed for all of you,"

He and Simmons climbed into the two-man cab, Simmons into the driver seat.

Romanov expected better from OMI tahn a 1950 truck, but he and the contingent boarded the back on made tehmselves comfortable.

"Not too shabby." said Romanov jokingly.

"Don't worry, it's procedure," Johnson remarked. "Any intruder would think we used some high-tech thing, but that's not how we operate externally. That's all on the inside."

The truck rolled down a dirt road for about two miles, past rows and rows of towering crops. They finally reached something with another live person in it-a small little structure that looked like a tollbooth, with a man in overalls and a plaid shirt inside, chewing sunflower seeds and looking over an old copy of People magazine.

"Well howdy," the man said, in a Texan accent. "Anything I can help you folks with?"

"We was just headed to Rome," Simmons replied.

"Heard it's nice there," the man responded. "Say, have you got the time?"

"Sorry," Simmons said. "It's the heat knocking out everything."

"Worse than the 'cane of '57," the man said.

"You betcha. I'm off, though, gotta meet my boys for lunch."

"Take care."

The man at the booth than simply nodded, auspiciously moving hs hand past something that shouldn't have been there for a hick farmer-one of the GAR's new Joint Combat Pistols, attached to his belt.

As the truck rolled down the dirt road towards the mountain, Johnson talked again.

"It's all procedure. That interaction right there-that's how we know who we talk with. The pass changes all the time, however, as do vehicles and all sorts of things. This one's been in use for four days."

"But how would ve go about doing this? Surely, placing large numbers of Entente Advisors in the country would raise red-flags. Even if we did make it a small clandestine operation, how would we measure success?" The Prime Minister said,

OOC: I am slightly jealous of the GRU and OMI talks, but don't worry. Once the Millenium Project is up and running, expect some sort of organization like that from me.

"Interesting..." said Romanov. "The GRU does things a little differently. We operate out of Fortress Ural near Kirov. There are nineteen checkpoints up the pass, and if you aren't suppoesed to be there, thenthe NKVD guards are always happy to show you a good time. My favorite part about it is the new AK-630 CIWS systems they placed in the fortress. There was an incedent with a communist trying to infiltrate the base, but fortunately and to our entertainment, the IR detectors picked him up and he was strewn across the side of the mountain."

"But how would ve go about doing this? Surely, placing large numbers of Entente Advisors in the country would raise red-flags. Even if we did make it a small clandestine operation, how would we measure success?" The Prime Minister said,

OOC: I am slightly jealous of the GRU and OMI talks, but don't worry. Once the Millenium Project is up and running, expect some sort of organization like that from me.

OOC: Be patient and I'm sure you'll be included sometime :)

IC: "I was thinking of a possible set up of Entente-backed officials in the USSM gov't who are willing to do our bidding for us." said Rovanovic. "I would suspect the success would be mesured in the USSM moving closer and closer to us and firther and firther from the TA and China."

"Trust me, there's security virtually everywhere. However, this place really isn't supposed to exist to most of America, so we put it off as an ethanol refining facility for Texaco. Remarkably simple explanation and everyone buys into it," Johnson remarked. "Like in that field right there-there's a remote controlled Patriot launcher in there, connected to a firing mechanism inside the actual facility. However, it blends in with the rest of the crops-especially from the air-and doesn't give off emissions. Wonders what technology can do. But hey, here's our stop."

The truck had pulled up to the mountainside of the first mountain-the tallest of the bunch. Outside, another man-seemingly even more of a hick-came up. However, his gun that he carried-an M29-was not hick at all.

"End of the line," the man said, in a New York accent-surprising for his appearance.

"Indeed," Johnson said. "We need in. Major ballers on Dice Duty."

"T-Mac had that covered. He's already in," said the guard, but he already knew Johnson and why he was here. "Take the left, the idjuts are working on the right one and it's closed for 'cleaning'. They're probaly testing nukes in there."

Johnson simply shrugged, than indicated for the Russians to follow him as Simmons took the lead. Part of the mountain-a square shape about 5 meters high and 8 meters wide-simply seemed to fall back into the mountain-revealing stark-white walls of an oddly futuristic curving structure.

"Here's our entrance," Johnson remarked.

Romanov decided to not even ask what the ballers or dice duty evern was, but he did ask about the last comment the man had mad.

"So much for SALT II." he said to Johnson. "I suppose the UR has done its fair share of illegal activities, too, though. Launching untested chemical weapoons on USSM civilians, testing a Zinc-salter 15kt nuke on one of our pens of locked up communists...oh, that last one was bad. The radiation lasted about a month and a half, but it was at such a high level the prisoners were skinned and boiled. Don't worry, though. The guards were moved out a day before the test."

He sat back and checked his watch. An older man, in his fifties, leaned up towards Johnson.

"Have you ever dealt with them before?" he asked. He didn't wait for an answer and continued. "They are the scariest, most diabolical thing I have ever dealt with in my life. I was Spetsnaz, 15th regiment. We were called into Baikonur following a distress call from the scientists there. That shriek...I can't stand that horrid shriek."

Romanov looked over and put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Petr, I really think you should cut that out." he said. "Stop acting so kooky."

Petr frowned. "Kooky?" he asked. "Have you ever seen them? That look they give you...blank stare. When they came at me with those guns, firing that burning...ah, horrible. It felt so good to pump them full of lead. Oh, so good."

Romanov sighed and turned to Johnson.

"Please excuse Petr." he said. "He lost a lot of good friends at Baikonur...he hasn't really gotten over it yet."

Petr frowned and bried his head in his hands.

"See what I mean?" said Romanov.

Johnson raised his eyebrows slightly at the prisoner nuke remark.

"An ingenious way of disposing of them, indeed," Johnson said genuinely. "Personally, I believe the Republic needs a harsher stance against criminals, but that's not my duty."

"All out, we gotta few levels to descend," Simmons said, putting the pickup into park and opening his door.

"The actual parts of the facility we need to get to are deep underground," Johnson said to the Russians as he got out. "Of course...if any of your men have compunctions about seeing the actual aliens..."

Johnson trailed off with the statement, glancing at Petr.

Petr looked up from his hands then reburied them. Romanov sighed and turned back to Johnson.

"He's going." he said. "He has to. With the complications that are bound to come, he has to get usd to the sight."

Petr looked up again and became shaky. "But...Colonel! No!" he trembled out. "I don't want to!"

"Quit acting like a baby and get over here!" shouted Romanov. He was obviously pissed, and was prepared to do something impulsive if it needed to come to it.

"I can't! Stop making me..." yelled Petr before he was cut off by Romanov who had turned around and delivered a heavy right to the side of Petr's head. He fell down with a thud.

"Ivan, pick him up." said Romanov to one of the large Spetsnaz men with them.

"Da, Colonel-Director." said the burly man as he hefted Petr up on his shoulders.

"Shall we go, Johnson?" said Romanov as he massaged hsi fist.

"Indeed," Johnson said impassively.

A small door had opened in the side of the expansive white room-opening to what seemed a closet of spare tools. A shovel, a pick, and a hoe were immediately visable, along with smaller tools attached to the wall. Another door opened opposite that door-full of computing equipment and high-tech material.

"Standard procedure," Johnson said as he and Simmons stepped inside the one with tools. "The last little thing to throw people off. That door over there," -he pointed to the high-tech looking one- "doesn't lead to anywhere, but any idiot trying to break in would go for it. This one is our elevator."

"You're all just full of little tricks over here, aren't you." said Romanov with a chuckle. The Russians followed Johnson into the elevator and waited for a moment. Petr was starting to come to, but wasn't yet awake enough to understand what was up.

The elevator accelerated down at a fast pace, initially jolting but then moving into a sleek, smooth pattern.

"It's a bunch of floors down," said Johnson.

After about thirty seconds, the elevator came to a halt, the old-style doors swinging open to reveal not another trap set-but instead, a plethora of futuristic-looking implements, tables, and expiraments in the process. Thirty meters ahead, a hallway curved off, with a faint bluish glow coming from it.

"They're slightly up there," said Johnson.

"Alright, let's see the goods then." said Romanov to Johnson.

The GRU operatives felt a little tense since they were going to see the aliens. Most had seen them before, but it was long ago since the last experience at Baikonur. Petr was still out, but Romanov had a special awakening treat for him when the time came.