NationStates Jolt Archive

Cazelian Embassy
03 Joseph S Nye Jr Drive
Kensington, British Londinium
0807 hours

"Oi, there's the ambassador," said Mark, nudging his partner as he took a bite out of his bagel. "Fucking Cazelians - can't even show up to their own embassy on time."

"Where?" replied Ken, the other man in the nondescript, black B1 Tartarus car parked across the street from the Cazelian embassy, his voice bubbling with the rich and unique tones of Caribbean English. Even he couldn't hide the fact that he was born and bred in Northolt. "Oh, I see him. You're right, Mark - seven minutes late."

"Better than yesterday," Mark said. "He came in...I dunno, like, at eight thirty, eight thirty-five?"

"Something," grunted Ken, who was remarkably engrossed in his blueberry bagel with schmear.

"So..." Mark began. "How's the wife?"

"Wicked pissed, man, wicked pissed," Ken said.

"'Cause we were staking this place out for so long?"

"Yeah." Ken swallowed the partially-masticated hunk of bagel in his mouth. "What does the MoI [Ministry of Intelligence] think we're gonna get outta sittin' here all day?"

"No fucking clue," Mark said. "But it's our fucking job. I think the super said something about 'suspicions of governmental nepotism' and 'a failure of the democratic apparatus in Cazelia'."

"English, Mark, I speak English."

"Apparently the higher-ups are saying Cazelia's nothing more than an incestuously closed, family-run nation. No democracy."

"Oh, I get it. You know..."

"What?"

"They do have an awful lot of Hasleys in their government."

"How astute."

"what the hell is this?" said Alexander, looking over several folders "this is madness, we are no dicatorship, just that the people have trusted my family for many hundreds of years! i'm calling the Consul" he said, calling Davidson

OOC: Er - what? No, your government has no idea that BL thinks that - all you guys know is that there is a black car parked across the street from the embassy.

OOC: Er - what? No, your government has no idea that BL thinks that - all you guys know is that there is a black car parked across the street from the embassy.

OOC-oops, sorry

Ministry of Intelligence Headquarters (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5c/Centre_Pompidour.jpg/800px-Centre_Pompidour.jpg)
Kensington, British Londinium
1345 hours

The greatest irony of the MoI, as far as Minister of Intelligence Ginevra Vauxhall, was how remarkably high-profile their headquarters were. The MoI was housed in a large, seven-story complex with a nuts-and-bolts, exposed-pipes, technological look. Ginevra never really enjoyed the design, but the artistic types loved it, and, apparently, so did the Kensingtites. And it was in the Ministry of Intelligence headquarters that Ms Vauxhall received the latest update in Operation: Bovine Ignorance.

"As your memo instructed, hetærap, we've stationed two Security Service agents outside the Cazelian embassy," stammered a frightened young aide. "But, er -"

A quick raise of the Minister's pale hand quickly silenced him. "But what? But they are gleaning little 'useful data'?" The secretary nodded his head nervously. "I expected you to say that. We're gaining valuable data on the habits of that embassy's staff, that's what we're gleaning."

"Y-yes, M-m-minister, of cour-rse," the aide said as Ginevra handed him a rather stuffed envelope. "Take this to the LSS offices."

***
Cazelian Embassy
03 Joseph S Nye Jr Drive
Kensington, British Londinium
1521 hours


A silver and red BMW E60 cruised down the street, followed closely by a black van. Two black-uniformed constables of the Kensington Metropolitan Police climbed out of the vehicle, and knocked on the door of the Cazelian embassy.

Bump for Cazelia.

Ministry of Intelligence Headquarters (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/5/5c/Centre_Pompidour.jpg/800px-Centre_Pompidour.jpg)
Kensington, British Londinium
1345 hours

The greatest irony of the MoI, as far as Minister of Intelligence Ginevra Vauxhall, was how remarkably high-profile their headquarters were. The MoI was housed in a large, seven-story complex with a nuts-and-bolts, exposed-pipes, technological look. Ginevra never really enjoyed the design, but the artistic types loved it, and, apparently, so did the Kensingtites. And it was in the Ministry of Intelligence headquarters that Ms Vauxhall received the latest update in Operation: Bovine Ignorance.

"As your memo instructed, hetærap, we've stationed two Security Service agents outside the Cazelian embassy," stammered a frightened young aide. "But, er -"

A quick raise of the Minister's pale hand quickly silenced him. "But what? But they are gleaning little 'useful data'?" The secretary nodded his head nervously. "I expected you to say that. We're gaining valuable data on the habits of that embassy's staff, that's what we're gleaning."

"Y-yes, M-m-minister, of cour-rse," the aide said as Ginevra handed him a rather stuffed envelope. "Take this to the LSS offices."

***
Cazelian Embassy
03 Joseph S Nye Jr Drive
Kensington, British Londinium
1521 hours


A silver and red BMW E60 cruised down the street, followed closely by a black van. Two black-uniformed constables of the Kensington Metropolitan Police climbed out of the vehicle, and knocked on the door of the Cazelian embassy.

a Cazelian ambassador opened the door "um...how may i help you?" he asked

"Chief Inspector Fyodorov, Kensington Metropolitan Police," said the first man gruffly as he flashed a lustrous, golden badge. "We've been picking up a lot threats against your embassy, and we need to discuss some security measures we'd like to take. May we come in?"

"Chief Inspector Fyodorov, Kensington Metropolitan Police," said the first man gruffly as he flashed a lustrous, golden badge. "We've been picking up a lot threats against your embassy, and we need to discuss some security measures we'd like to take. May we come in?"

"um...sure, come on in" he said

"Thank you," said the second officer. "Peter Utkin." The two police agents took care to wipe their feet outside before entering the Cazelian embassy. As they sat down on a pair of nearby chairs, Fyodorov began to speak.

"Mr Gates, as you are aware, the Kensington Metropolitan Police, in addition to our duties of serving and protecting the Greater Kensington area, is responsible for protecting foreign embassies in Kensington. It seems that the Cazelian embassy has been receiving a disproportionate amount of threats. Fatalities, Mr Gates, are something we wish to minimize. I'd like to discuss some precautions the police would like to take to prevent such attacks."

"The first thing we're going to do is to restrict the amount of service people able to come into your embassy," Utkin said, picking up where Fyodorov left off. "We've already created a short registry of people cleared by the Ministry of State Security. And, secondly, we've managed to create these handy little bomb detectors, and we'd like to install them in rooms across the embassy. They work by picking up radio-detonator frequencies - so if a bomb were to arm itself nearby the embassy, we'd be able to detect and intercept it. Now, Mr Gates, we brought our technicians with us right now - we can begin installation right now. The only inconvenience is that we'll need the building vacated for the rest of the day."

OOC: May I join in?

"Thank you," said the second officer. "Peter Utkin." The two police agents took care to wipe their feet outside before entering the Cazelian embassy. As they sat down on a pair of nearby chairs, Fyodorov began to speak.

"Mr Gates, as you are aware, the Kensington Metropolitan Police, in addition to our duties of serving and protecting the Greater Kensington area, is responsible for protecting foreign embassies in Kensington. It seems that the Cazelian embassy has been receiving a disproportionate amount of threats. Fatalities, Mr Gates, are something we wish to minimize. I'd like to discuss some precautions the police would like to take to prevent such attacks."

"The first thing we're going to do is to restrict the amount of service people able to come into your embassy," Utkin said, picking up where Fyodorov left off. "We've already created a short registry of people cleared by the Ministry of State Security. And, secondly, we've managed to create these handy little bomb detectors, and we'd like to install them in rooms across the embassy. They work by picking up radio-detonator frequencies - so if a bomb were to arm itself nearby the embassy, we'd be able to detect and intercept it. Now, Mr Gates, we brought our technicians with us right now - we can begin installation right now. The only inconvenience is that we'll need the building vacated for the rest of the day."

"ok, sure" he said "who has been making the threats?" he asked

OOC: May I join in?

OOC: Sure, if you can work yourself in.
IC:

"We believe it to be al-Nakba militants, though Pacitalian extremists have made their share of threats," Fyodorov replied swiftly. "And, the sooner you leave, the sooner we can ensure your safety." Utkin opened the front door, revealing a horde of technicians unloading equipment from their van.

OOC: Sure, if you can work yourself in.
IC:

"We believe it to be al-Nakba militants, though Pacitalian extremists have made their share of threats," Fyodorov replied swiftly. "And, the sooner you leave, the sooner we can ensure your safety." Utkin opened the front door, revealing a horde of technicians unloading equipment from their van.

"ok, we'll evacuate now" he said, pressing a button on the wall, ringing a siren, as at least 20 people ran out of the building

A car cruised down the street towards the Uir Embassy. The license plate revealed that it had diplomatic immunity. It screeched to a stop right infront of the van parked in front of the Cazelian embassy. "Isn't that the embassy of the country with a family running the government?" he thought to himself.

"W hat is te hol d up?" the ambassador asked out his window, "Cul d jou mov-e jour van?"

(OOC: sorry, trying to work myself in...feebly)

"We shan't be long!" shouted Utkin as the embassy emptied. The technicians filed in, and the door slammed shut. "Finally," he muttered. "I thought they'd never leave."

"Let's get started, shall we?" replied Fyodorov. "We've got a lot of shit to do. Okay, men, you know what to do!"

With near-perfect precision, the police technicians went to work after ensuring the embassy had been vacated. Small, microscopic listening devices were placed in each room, and equally Lilliputian cameras were hidden amongst smoke detectors, Cazelian security cameras, and other obscure places.

Several hours later, the Kensington Metropolitan Police employees filed back out of the throughly-bugged Cazelian embassy and headed home. Even though the Ministry of State Security and Ministry of Intelligence would be able to listen in on every conversation in that embassy, watch every action, and read the majority of documents left lying out, the poor Cazelians wouldn't have a clue.

The car finally moved down to the embassy and thought the behavior suspicious. "Why would there be technicians in front of the Cazelian embassy. Somethings going on and M-P Forgul needs to know."

(Translated for your reading pleasure)

"Londinium installed software in the Cazellian embassy. Something's up." the ambassador said.

"Tell the Londinium that we want to help them in whatever they're doing in that embassy" Edward Forgul replied.

The ambassador drove to the MoI headquarters and asked to come in.

Ministry of Intelligence
Kensington, British Londinium

A relatively uneventful day, thought Dillon, the soldier on duty, as he guarded the entrance. About fucking time. Then, however, he saw the black car pull up to the Ministry, and then heard somebody ask permission to enter.

"Name, agency, and purpose, please." asked Dillon. "This is a restricted facility. No entry without prior authorization."

"Harol Darok, Uir Em bassy, I wis to speak about te Cazeli an Em bassy. Miniser-Piresidet wises to a id te Lon dini um in anyway possib l."

"There isn't anything goin' on there. New anti-terror features being installed, nothin' more."

"We woul d lik to add our own anti-terroris t fe atures too."

"We woul d lik to add our own anti-terroris t fe atures too."

"Er...in a foreign embassy in a country that isn't yours? That doesn't make any sense. And even if it did, I get let you in without authorization."

OOC: may I join?

OOC: It's open. But considering that this thread, for all intents and purposes, has served its purposes (bugging the embassy), there's very little to do.

"Yes...ok. It is jus t tat te em bassy is a few door s down an d I was worried for our own em bassy. If tere is anyting Uiri can do to hel p p reven t terroris attack s jus t let te em bassy know."

With that the embassador left the building and headed back to his embassy. It seemed that whatever they installed they didn't need nor want any help.