NationStates Jolt Archive

In the early hours of this morning, the alarm system at LogiCorp was triggered, due to a forced entry at the southern most entrance of their R&D centre. Police were dispatched to the scene along with twelve men from the nearby stationed 6th Infantry division, on routine patrol along the perimeter of their base.

Despite the quick deployment of a counter force, a whole set of plans were stolen from the centre when the guards were overwhelmed. What the plans were for has not been publically announced, but when asked, Minister Of Defence, George Pattison said "they are of huge importance". Standing alongside the CEO of LogiCorp, the biggest private arms contractor within Aleard, the minister seemed quick to keep things hushed. He asked members of the public to come forth with any information, and the whole 6th and 8th infantry is deployed within Aleard for the recovery of these plans.

All baggage is to be searched before leaving the country, and the borders have been closed to immigration for the time being. People may leave the country at security's discretion, and the country has been put in the state of lockdown for the first ever time. The coastguard and parts of the Aleardian Navy have taken control of shipping, and the air is being monitored by "Wolf Pack", the national airspace defence system.

It is rumoured that a prototype of the latest product from LogiCorp was tested earlier this very week. Mr Pattison, when asked, said that "all efforts must be made to recover these plans, and the persons responsible bought to justice with the heaviest penalties", a feeling backed up by LogiCorp CEO Peter Sarcel. The exact value of these plans is rumoured to be Ta1.01 Trillion (Tarwarls), the equivalent of just under USD$1 Trillion.

OOC:So if by any chance it was me who has it i have a $1Trillion dollar product?

OOC: Well. No. The first reason being that your agents or whoever you may have hired to steal these plans (quite a big force, say twenty men, to overcome the guards) are locked inside the country, unless you have some great way to escape through the three-prong lockdown.

Secondly, that value is based on the R&D money poured into it so far, there may be some problems with the product, since the plans were in the process of being improved after the prototype testing. However, its a very advanced product, and well worth the money if you were to produce it for your own military, or for resale. Huge profits, whether monetary or not, could be made.

Its just getting those plans out of the country thats the problem. Its a chance to use your imagination and RP skill, most probably focussing on the character development side of it.

OOC: Also, unless Im too late, in which case dont worry, this might be an idea for whoever takes it up. Start by RPing the actual theft in a "03:42 That Morning" kind of way, because it will help me in RPing the recovery. You have a headstart too, since I would have nothing to go on but witness evidence and anything left at the scene as a clue, so use it well.

[OOC: Since Smyrnag was deleted for being FreeAngola (Boo! Hiss!) may I RP swiping the plans?]

OOC: Of course. I await your opening post (since I cant post anything substantial without something to feed off).

In an abandoned warehouse somewhere deep in the capital of Aleard, First Lieutenant Katrin Romano pored over the freshly stolen plans. Four of our guys dead, Lord only knows how many of the LogiCorp people dead, dammit, I hope this is worth it.

Romano was a military police officer detached to the Special Combat Service, Kahanistanian special forces. Her expertise was deemed essential to overcoming the security, but something had gone wrong - a nervous soldier had opened fire on a suspicious sentry and all hell had broken loose. Luckily, they had at least had the sense to blow the backup generators right before cutting the power, so they were able to escape.

"What do you make of these plans, Captain?" asked the woman.

Captain Malena Neil, the commander of the SCS unit, took one look at them. "No clue," she said. "I don't speak their language. Lieutenant Ronson?"

Second Lieutenant Tony Ronson inspected the plans. "Damn technical terms. Can't translate this for shit. But anything this damned valuable that we have the army looking for us... from what I can tell, it's some kind of superdreadnaught, but the words may be code words. For all I know it's a high-tech rubber dinghy."

"A rubber dinghy worth half a trillion shekels and two infantry divisions," said Malena. "Well, whether it's a ship, or a plane, or a high-tech tank, it's our only chance for keeping the damn Doomies from taking over."

Everyone knew what Malena's view was toward the Imperium Doomanum. Her sister had been killed by the Doomani. Malena did not know the details, but something about the "Sanguinarium" and "Project Witold" that she'd heard from survivors. She didn't understand a word of it, and half of what she did know was hopelessly distorted.

"Anyway," said Master Sergeant Sylvester Morrison, the machine gunner, "how do we get this shit out of the country? The whole nation's on lockdown. They're sinking anything that sails out, and that Wolf Pack or whatever is shooting down anything that flies out."

"Same way we got in, Sly." Tony took a drag of his marijuana cigarette. While weed was legal in Kahanistan, using it on military duty was not. Luckily, Malena's mind was focused elsewhere - like getting them out of the country.

"Take inflatable boats out of here? Our mothership's probably in Kahanistan by now, blasting the 'Fordies." The "'Fordies" were the Northfordian Navy that was engaged in battle with the Kahanistan Republic Navy on its western border.

"Why can't we just fax or email this stuff back to Kaselev?" asked Sylvester. "Seems a little easier than trying to fight our way out of a lockdown."

"Because, dumbass," said Master Sergeant Martin Smith, the anti-armour weapons specialist, "they're probably monitoring Web traffic with something that makes Echelon look weak. No sooner would we have hit 'send' than we'd have a battalion of troops down our throats."

"So, how do we get the troops off our backs?" asked Katrin. "I suppose we could disable Wolf Pack..."

"No-go," said Malena. "We attack Wolf Pack and we end up fighting a whole base, and they're probably all on high alert. I have an idea, though. We just copy the plans, translate them, and leave the originals."

"Copy? Certainly someone'll notice a bunch of soldiers armed to the teeth going into a library to copy top-secret plans," said Tony.

"Which is why we copy them here, by hand," said Malena, pulling out a pencil. "We copy them on ordinary paper, in pencil, and then you translate them into English, with the Aleardian original in parentheses."

That night, the soldiers kept watch while Katrin and Malena painstakingly began their copying of the plans on paper. Sergeant Muhammad Nasif, the team's sniper, spied out with the scope from his sniper rifle to detect people coming from a distance, his rifle itself laying on the floor until it was needed.

OOC: Sorry. Was dragged off at short notice for the weekend.

"J2, swiped from under our noses, damn it!"

"Government money thrown away unless the troops can recover those plans. Wolf Pack is on high alert, all naval bases lay empty. Whole fleets just left base at the drop of a hat." The soldier laughed.

They were looking over the forensics at the R&D centre of LogiCorp, as men in white coveralls carefully removed the smallest of evidence and inserted it into a variety of different tubes. God knows what they were finding, but forensically the thieves hadnt done much to cover their tracks by the looks of it, not that anyone expected them to. Either way it wouldnt do much in the way of finding them.

---

Presidents Office

"Mr President, Sir! As you can understand Im sure, Ive had little time to prepare this report." Colonel Kinsmen looked up from his papers to the President for some sign of acknowledgement, but President Thomson sat himself looking at various papers of his own. Kinsmen continued. "Early this morning, we received the alarm from LogiCorp R&D and dispatched a number of men to the scene immediately. When they arrived, they found wounded civilians, and plans stolen. They were too late."

"Clearly, Colonel. Or we wouldnt be here." Kinsmen gave a nervous laugh.

"Sir. Wolf Pack was alerted immediately, and put into full operation. Lockdown insued under State Of Emergency Law 106. It is understood that the plans are still within the country. Everything that can be lawfully done to retrieve these plans is being done."

"Is Wolf Pack aware of the severity of the situation?"

"They have been fully briefed, and the skies are being monitored by civilian ATC under SOE106 also."

"And do you have any leads? Anywhere to start looking, except the skies and sea?" Kinsmen tugged at his collar with his index and middle finger, feeling the heat of the Presidents questioning.

"The army is asking civilians, and national TV is being interrupted every hour with information and phone numbers et cetera."

"Very well. Keep me informed. And remember, Colonel. If these plans are lost, it may be completely damaging to our hopes." Kinsmen gave a quick smile, before saluting and turning to leave. Demanding bastard.

---

Approx 1000ft Above Aleard

"Aircraft spotted, civilian. Heading due east, altitude one thousand feet and climbing. Infra-red lock. Sending contact."

The rich pilot inside the small plane received the shocking radio contact. "This is the Aleardian Air Force. You are in contradiction of Aleardian law. Please respond. Failure to do so may result in hostility."

He glanced at his intrument panel and around the cockpit. In his mirror he caught a glimpse of sunlight reflected from a metal surface, and then another. Two planes? "LS1073, received."

"You have clearance to land at AAF Hornwell, all runways are cleared."

The pilot pulled his map onto his lap, and found Hornwell to be quite close, pulling the plane into a bank to the right, descending towards the runway. Clear conditions allowed him to see the base. A few hundred feet behind him, Julius Farring pulled his fighter aircraft into a bank also, slowing his speed as low as he could to meet the personal aircraft. Something told him that these werent his men, but Wolf Pack had told him to bring down any aircraft. Some law, he cared not which, grounded all aircraft until further notice. He pulled his visor down from his helmet as the sun met his eyes, and he pushed his head back into his seat for a moment.

Truth was, nobody quite knew where these men were, but the only flying aircraft were military, and the only safe person from interrogation was the president himself.

This. This was "lock down".

After several hours of mind-numbing, wrist-hurting labour, the Kahanistanian agents had managed to copy the plans. Now, they had to figure out what to do with the originals. They wanted them to fall back into Aleardian hands for two reasons - one, they did not want to hurt the research, just get some equipment to give them a fighting chance against the Questarian Commonwealth - and two, so the lockdown would be lifted. Sixteen special operatives would not fare very well against an Aleardian infantry division, and the idea - thrown seriously around - of a hijacking of a stealth fighter to escape was thrown off as laughable; the only one who knew how to fly a fighter had been the nervous soldier who started blasting caps and gotten himself killed. Not only that, but a whole special-ops team wouldn't fit in it.

Malena decided to wipe the prints of the team off of the plans with a rag. Handling them with gloves, the operation commander then put them into a sealed plastic bag, ordering that it be handled with gloves at all times until it was decided where to dispose of them, that is, to leave them lying around for the Aleardian military to find, and they debated on what to do with them.

"I think we should simply mail them back to the company," said Katrin. "It's not like we need them anymore, and the sooner the lockdown is lifted, the better for us."

"Not a good idea," said Malena. "It'd look all too suspicious if we just handed them back, rather than going through official channels, and the postal workers would be interrogated to within a micron of their lives to tell who mailed them to LogiCorp."

"What if we just dump the plans in somebody's garden, and let them report it when they wake up?" asked Tony. "Some lucky schmuck gets a reward, and we get out free."

"Even worse," replied Malena. "They may be accused of the theft and I shudder to think of what will happen. Could be executed. They did say, 'brought to justice with the heaviest penalties.' The heaviest penalty is death."

"Well, aren't you cynical..." said Muhammad. "I say one of us volunteers to take the plans to another city, in another part of the country, and simply stuff it into one of the police station anonymous tip boxes. At worst, one of us gets caught, the rest of the team avoids suspicion, and Kahanistan gets to crank out enough military hardware to exterminate the Doomies."

Malena smiled warmly behind her long dark hair. "Good idea. Do we have a volunteer, though?"

Muhammad nodded. "I'll do it. 'Course, one of you'll have to take my sniper rifle and all my gear. Good thing I packed some civvies, even if they are Arab civilian clothes. I'll stick out like a towelhead in a trailer park, but at least we'll be safe."

"Not if they grab you for being a 'sand ******' we won't," said Sylvester. "Use mine, it's a T-shirt and jeans. Hope you don't mind that the shirt has a JDL fist symbol and 'Mohammed was a camel raping faggot' on it in Hebrew."

"Jeans are fine," said Malena. "Shirt isn't. I have an unisex T-shirt you'll like." She pulled out one saying, "EVERY TIME YOU SEE A RAINBOW, ALLAH IS HAVING GAY SEX."

"Malena, no offence," replied Muhammad. "You're 5'4", and about 110 pounds. I'm 5'7", and 150 pounds. That isn't going to fit me, and if it does, it'll be too tight. Besides, it says very nasty things about Allah."

Katrin raised her head. She was six feet tall and very well-built. Not up there with top bodybuilders, but she was a large woman.

"I've got one," she said. She picked one out of her luggage that was fairly tight on her - the better to show off her large breasts. On a smallish man the shirt would be about average size. It stated, "IF YOU CAN READ THIS, YOU NOW HAVE SARS."

Muhammad nodded and took the T-shirt and pair of jeans. Wearing gloves, he put the bag into a manila envelope, loaded it into his rucksack (painted to resemble a civilian backpack or hiking bag), and after some of the team members left, he went out, carrying the envelope, and hailed a nearby cab to a large city on the other side of the country from where they were.

John Mercrue had been a taxi driver straight from college, a drop-out. Pulling up along the roadside, where he saw a rather average built tourist type. Sighing, he turned the volume on his radio right down. The backdoor opened, and he looked in his rear view mirror. Guessing this man knew little Aleardian, he turned the meter to hired and began the fare, saying with a thick accent "where you off to?"

He began to drive in the direction he was headed while he waited for a reply, pressing another button on a navigation system sitting just below his ID, the harsh reminder that unless he could obtain another license next month he would have no job. His family relied on his limited income to support them. One of the lower income families, he managed to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads, but couldnt afford the second house and five cars the wealthier in Aleard could.

He hoped to god this man had everything to get through the numerous roadblocks that had sprung up. The number of fares he had lost today already was enough to make him give up. It was now that he noticed the mans t-shirt, when he was just about to reply with his destination. He said nothing about its content or the stitching on the sleeves for that matter, but noted that if the wrong soldier on the wrong roadblock noted it, he could loose yet more money. His wife would not be happy.

"The beach," said Muhammad. "The city on the east coast."

Muhammad had brought about ten thousand Universal Standard Dollars with him. This should be more than enough to get him where he was heading, put him up for a few days, and let him get a plane ticket back to Kahanistan, or wherever he decided to cover his tracks at once he got the lockdown lifted.

"You seem scared. Have the roadblocks been bothering you?" asked the young man, hoping to calm the driver a little.

"Cant escape the news can you? Something about some plans going missing, very hush hush on details. Suspicious if you ask me." He glanced in the rear view mirror, looking behind him and then to his right wing mirror before pulling down a road leading to the countryside. "In my opinion, whoever took them, the sooner theyre caught the better. Then we can all get on with our lives!

"Im going a bit outback to avoid as many roadblocks as I can, if you were wondering." John gave a small laugh. "What bought you to Aleard then?"

The car pulled up to a T-junction, as an army jeep turned down the road they were leaving. Turning down the road, a bright yellow sign said the words "roadblock ahead reduce speed now".

---

"You got the forensics report? And Jones, did you find the CCTV?" Two men approached the commander with items in their hands. Flicking through the forensics report to the summary revealed a lot about their suspects, but not enough to get a match on foreign nationals. "Youve run these through the system? Might be a few crooks trying to break into the big money."

"Yes, Sir! No results. Would be aiming pretty high if they were."

"And this video?" He turned to the second man. "Anything?"

"Some faces which are being blown up right now. More importantly they left heading south along Davis Street." The man pulled out a map of the complex and its general area. "Ive noted their route as far as we can tell on this map. Maybe we could get a bit further knowing that?"

"Perhaps. Good work men. Any witnesses?"

"A handful. A speeding vehicle. Shooting heard. Put together, with the videos and everything else, they prove to be quite helpful. Im having men compile it all as we speak."

"Good. Right, keep me informed."

A phone rang in the corner of the office. After a short conversation the phone was slammed down. "We have a suspect!" The commander grabbed his coat and left the room followed by another man.

"Me?" said Muhammad. "I'm on a camping tour of the world. I've roughed it in four different continents." This was true, but he had been conducting special ops missions in those continents.

"Shit... a roadblock here?"

---

Feeling a little exposed and trapped until Muhammad was able to 'dispose' of the plans, the other agents decided to split up. Katrin, Tony, and Sylvester each made another copy of the plans, as much to alleviate their stress as for added security. They then split each copy of the plans into four pieces, and sewed them into everything from the insides of their clothes to backpack lining to underwear. At least three of them were placed into bodiy cavities, so deep that a visual cavity search would not turn them up.

They hoped to G-d that the CCTV had gone down when they blew the generator. Blackface and balaclavas were good, but anything that retarded detection was always a bonus.

Malena decided to take a break. She had the highest confidence that all was going to plan. Kahanistan would get new gear, Aleard's industry would not be out trillions of Tarwarls, and she would get to avenge her sister.

The young woman strolled casually out to the streets to the local pool, hoping to cool off and relax. She also authorised the rest of the crew to stand down until Muhammad disposed of the plans. For purposes of her order, getting caught counted as disposing of the plans; Kahanistan would be out one agent, but the Aleardians would have their plans back and the lockdown would be lifted.

The taxi pulled up to the road block, as John wound down his window. A soldier, average height but well built, with full combat gear on, including helmet, walked over. "Your papers, please?"

Fumbling around momentarily for his papers the soldier looked into the back of the car, and noticed Muhammed. "Yours too please."

John piped up. "Theres my papers, and this man has no papers. He is visiting on a camping trip."

The soldier looked at John, then to his papers. "Everything is in order here. However, sir," He looked at Muhammed. "If you would like to step outside the car please. Nothing serious, I assure you."

He stepped back, and another soldier began to direct John to a lay-by where he could wait for his passenger. John hoped to god Muhammed wouldnt be caught for anything. Looking in his wing mirror he saw the soldier leading Muhammed to the temporary cabin.

---

"He was bought in for having the incorrect papers, and some suspicious looking papers instead."

"I see. So," Commander Phillips looked at the notes already made. "Mr Letarsky. Why were your papers out of order?"

"I am.. I dont know."

"You know during a state of emergency that is illegal?" Letarsky bowed his head. Satisfied with the response, Phillips continued. "We found a number of pieces of paper in your briefcase that are, lets say, suspicious."

"I am a busi-"

Phillips interrupted his excuse. "We found this all too interesting Mr Letarsky." He produced the piece of paper, stapled to another two, with the staple still holding a small piece of paper where one piece had been ripped from the collection. The presumably second page showed a complex code and some drawings of something. "What is this?"

"In my spare time, I like to be creative."

"DONT FUCKING LIE TO ME!" Mr Letarsky looked terrified. He knew he was telling a lie, and had everything to hide, but tried desperately to keep his cool. It seemed the commander could see right through him, entering his most deep and incriminating thoughts.

Letarsky sat forward, his hands on the desk. What the hell? Im in deeper if I dont say. "Coded plans."

"Thats better, isnt it? Now what are these plans for?"

"They are old. Theyre for the bank robbery of last year, in Pal."

Phillips eyes widened. The suprise was clear on Letarskys face when Phillips said, "I have no time for this, get out of here". He was too quick to rise and leave, but then suddenly Phillips changed his mind. "Hand this bastard over to the police in Pal. And while youre there Ive got something else for you to do. Go and see Hilda and she will tell you."

Muhammad stepped outside, eyeing the soldier nervously. While he knew that if he were caught here, his crew would escape when the lockdown came off, he dreaded what might happen to him.

Like all Kahanistanian soldiers, he was trained in the Jewish martial art of Krav Maga. However, he would answer the guard's questions, at least for now.

---

At the edge of the pool, Malena sat down, her legs dangling into the water. She pushed her hair behind her and smiled. Soon the Doomani and their Questarian Commonwealth slave-allies would regret the day they fucked with Kahanistan.

She was in a good mood, with something to celebrate, and in her overall state, might have been quite approachable to the local population. Malena was 27, about average frame, and she was pretty, though not extremely so. She looked around, seeing if she had caught someone's eye.

"Can you fill this questionaire in for me please? Then I will have to take your photograph, like a passport photo, if thats OK?"

The piece of paper contained sections such as "what countries are you currently a citizen of" and "please tick the box below showing why you are visiting Aleard". The soldier turned around to look at the table, where a laptop was placed. He propped his rifle up on the filing cabinet to his right. The other soldier was dealing with another car, containing a family. Papers were handed back and forth and the car drove on to give way to another vehicle.

The soldier looked at a piece of laminate card on the desk to his left.

Muhammad's cover story was that he was from Leafanistan. Since it had just had its first success against the Mafia (http://www.forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=535664), it was an ideal place to claim to be from if one was up to no good - at least, that's what Kahanistanian Intelligence thought. They believed that with crime so bad, and the nation classified by the Kahanistanian MFA as a failed state, that no suspicion would be raised if records of him couldn't be found.

He gave the same reason for travel that he had given the driver - that he was a camper.

---

Malena was still looking for someone to "celebrate" with. In her case, it might mean taking them to a local nightclub, and getting smashed, or even high, depending on the nation's drug laws. (Kahanistan's own were very liberal, rivaled only by Allanea and MassPwnage.) She might even tell him a little about herself, but nothing that would give her away. Even the most hardened special forces need R&R, especially operation commanders who think they've just pulled something over on the Aleardians.

The soldier stood and looked over the sheet. "Thank you, now, I need to take your picture for our temporary records. Can you look into this camera?" The soldier tapped a webcam on top of the filing cabinet. The soldier prepared to take Muhammeds picture.

"You do have an in date A-ROT form, dont you, sir?"

---

In the room of a building overlooking the swimming pool, one man stood at the window observing through the net curtains the woman by the pool. "Are you sure shes a suspect?"

"Commander Phillips sent me here for a reason you know. Im sure he wouldnt have if she werent."

"Ok. If you say so." The man looked back to Carlson, who was briefing a young man of the intelligence force. Carlson glared over, and the man quickly turned back to the surveillance equipment. The suspect was still sitting there.

"You ready?"

"Sir."

"Get going." Carlson patted the young man on the back as he left the room.

"Are you sure we shouldnt have wired him, sir?"

"Positive. Commanders orders." Carlson shrugged. They watched the man cross the street to the poolside.

Kahanistanian Intelligence did, of course, have the expertise to produce foreign forms. It was all a matter of examining an original for watermarks and holograms, then producing the appropriate effects.

Muhammad had an A-ROT form, but didn't know how "in-date" it was.

---

Malena noticed the young man approaching from the side. She did not have even the most fleeting of suspicions; nobody would pay much attention to a woman who looked like she was sunbathing or relaxing, unless they wanted female company.

The young woman merely turned her head toward him and smiled in an alluring manner in his general direction, then crossed her legs.