NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: I may open this depending on how things go, but for now it is closed

Baturin Casino, Vetalia City

Two men sat in a dimly light office around a heavy wooden table, the room continuously colored by the band of pulsating lights and neon colors of the casino that filtered through drawn shades on the windows overlooking the gaming floor. The room was elaborately, but not gaudily decorated with expensive furniture and decorations, and was walled with tasteful wooden panelling. On the far end sat a sizable mahogany desk, behind which stood a large wall of LCD closed-caption surveiliance screens from the casino's massive grounds. Judging from the accumulated ashes in the tray and the somewhat tired look on both faces, they had been there a while.

Quiet lounge music reverberated in the room, too faint to make out the lyrics but loud enough to recognize the tune...it was a Vetalian song, "Для тех кто ждет", quite ironic given the subject of the meeting. One of the men spoke.

"Viktor Viktorovich, you know I will do anything you ask, I swore to it...but, pardon my Ariddian, this is fucking insane. Yeah, we've done this kind of work before but..."

"But what, Misha?" Viktor stared stone-faced at Mikhail, watching for his response and planning his response ahead of time. It was like a game, convincing people, and like any game if you knew the rules better than your opponent, you would win. That's what got him here in the first place. Viktor might have been his closest friend, and they might have both clawed their way to the top of the Izmailovskaya together, but that didn't mean he allowed himself to be soft for any reason, especially for business.
"...but we've never targeted an alliance like this. Always a single nation, or a handful of them...nothing like the NPE."
"Does this mean you can't do it?"
"No, it's just that a fuckup would mean an end to our operations here for a while. You saw what happened to that poor bastard Litvak and the rest of our contacts out in Petrovsk."

"Then don't make a mistake."
"It's not that, it's just I..."
"If you aren't concerned about making a mistake, then what do you have to worry about? Your position will be safe while you're gone and money is..." Pausing to lower a shade, he revealed the huge, glittering neon casino floor below "...not an issue."
"I just think you should reconsider the job. Sure it gets you in Griffincrest's pocket, and they've definitely got the cash to back up their boasts, but is it worth the risk?"

"Do you doubt my abilities to lead this brotherhood? I find it hard to read your concerns otherwise."

"No, no, not at all. Vitya, I'm just concerned about what is in our best interests... but if you think this is a good idea, I will do it. I just want us to know what kind of hot water we'll be in if we fubar any part of this job." Viktor paled at the suggestion he was challenging Mikhail to lead the gang. It would have been a death sentence.

"Good. Don't think I made this decision on a whim, Misha...don't ever make that assumption of anyone's decisionmaking. It could cost you your life someday. I know you're smarter than that, that's why I chose you."
"Yes, Авторитет." The word meant simply "Authority" in English, but carried so much more meaning in this context that it could never be properly translated.
"Good, good. Now, let us put this behind us!"

He pressed a button on his desk, and shortly thereafter a serving girl came in with a bottle of fine Zhivanev vodka and two glasses. Pouring the drinks, they downed them without a toast to signify the meeting's conclusion. The rest of the bottle was left unfinished and would only be finished when Mikhail returned, if he did at all. It would've been bad luck to finish it before he departed. Shaking Viktor's hand, he walked out the door and took the private elevator back down to the gaming floor. As he left for the valet, he was glad that Viktor hadn't kept him longer...he needed a clear head and a good sleep for tomorrow's departure.

Leonov International Airport, Vetalia City

Viktor boarded the earliest Aeroflot flight to Binaria City the next morning, choosing it intentionally to blend in with the rest of the morning's business travel. The flight was filled to capacity, even in business class, and Viktor made an effort to engage nearby passengers in conversation, both to pass the time as well as to find out as much as possible about the country prior to entry. The flight went quickly, not the least because the plane was a brand new supersonic jet fielded by the company for its international service, and soon he found himself buckling his seatbelt for landing. Passport and important documents in hand, he was ready for entry in to the country.

The ruse was simple: he was in the country ostensibly in regard to a weapons purchase by the Vetalian government, which his associates had been working on for months to forge and to buy off the right officials in the Ministry of Defense. From there, his men would work to prepare the trap, and if things went well the country's military leadership would be in tatters. If not...he didn't want to think about that right now.

(The letter is as follows):

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Ministry of Defense

To the government of Binaria,

The Ministry of Defense would be interested in discussing an equipment procurement program with your nation as part of our efforts to improve relations with the NPE and each of its member states. The Ministry has budgeted 1.600 trillion Solaris this year for foreign procurement, and we have chosen your nation for this year's purchases due to its relative position in the NPE alliance and your nation's focus on defense spending.

We are confident your country can supply us with high quality weapons systems for our armed forces and would like to discuss the specifics of this cooperation at a meeting later this month. We will send one of our Procurators and his staff to negotiate the matter further. Contact information is enclosed with this letter, including my private phone extension at the Ministry.

Regards,
Consul Ruslan Bartrev, Ministry of Defense

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OOC; check your TGs.

To Consul Ruslan Bartrev,

We must unfortunately deny your request for weapons procurement due the Namposo Act which prohibits trade with nations we are not allied with at the present time. This is normally relaxed however our nation is in a state of war with the Corporate Alliance. If our equipment was deployed by other nations, it would increase the chance of the enmy backwards engingering sensitive electronics.


With All Due Respect,
Jack Roberts
Department of Defence

Thomas Aleckerson was a security guard at the Jonas Falkson International airport stationed to recieve all international flights at his gate. He was making sure everyone had their coorect papers, and sent them along to the further security checkpoints where they would be checked for explosives, and weapons. "Passport please." he said to Viktor Viktorovich as he arrived at the checkpoint. "Please place your righthand on the scanner." He asked drearily because he had been doing this for far to many years. Tom pointed to the hand print scanner on the desk. "Then do the same with your left."

Viktor remained calm as he placed his other hand on the scanner, having just recieved word upon landing that the government had turned down the negotiations for defense procurement. Even though this put his plans back more than a few steps, it was hardly a dead end. He and his men were in the country, their bank accounts were full, and they had a solid network of contacts throughout the country.

Upon clearing customs, he would meet with his contacts and go to their base of operations in the city, and from there they would need to plan another way to get to the leadership.

Suddenly, an idea popped in to his head: The Corporate Alliance! They were at war with them, and if he could convince Blackhelm or another partner to supply him with a fake defector or spy, they could draw themselves closer to the government. They no doubt paid big for a capture, especially if it were someone (ostensibly) high-ranking and willing to tell all to the high command. He would discuss the idea later.

Evening bump.