NationStates Jolt Archive

The Boulevard of the Proletariat is a broad avenue that stretches for three kilometers through the heart of the Political District. A district set where the seat of the national government resides. The General Assembly Building, the People's High Court, and the Presidential House. As well as numerous other national agencies, minitries, and other key buildings. Many embassies are also included where ambassadors from across the world work side by side with Kulikovian officals in securing international goodwill and benefit.

It is lined with tall trees and the broad street accomedates numerous parades throughout the year. There, thousands of joyful citizens line the streets to see great spectacles of national pride and strength thunder down the street, waving banners of the KPAF and pictures of famous leaders and heroes. Yes, it is an awesome sight. But now, the street is for the most part empty at midday. Cars line the streets and the occsional car or District Police or Security Force vehicle coasting slowly and observantly.

President Nevsky draws back the curtain to his office on the Presidential Residence. His office is ornate yet still simple and robust in style. A heavy polished oak desk with numerous papers, his name, and a small statue sit atop it. The desk is flanked by the Kulikovian flag and the Party Flag. He sighs and returns to his desk. The sound of a grandfather clock across the room ticks and tocks. It's a quiet day for political action and decision making. There's two bills sitting on his desk. One for subsidy reform and another he couldn't remember but was probably going to pigeon hole it anyways.

He was elected little over a year ago. He beat the incumbant Gunther Rhinehardt, a member of the Judiciary Party, a typically conservative party. He respected the man but felt he wasn't good for the Proletariat and mercilessly attacked him for his easing of economic restraints that kept corporations in check. If you give them an inch, they take a mile in his opinion. The idea that their Socialist world was in danger was more than enough to ignite the powder keg of discontent that was just idle but brought to the surface. Nevsky promised to uphold their beloved system that brought an increase in equality, healthcare, and peace to their nation.

"Mr.President" buzzed Jolanta, his dutiful and indespensable secretary from the next room. The sudden loud noise startled Nevsky who snapped from his memories.

"Yes, Jolanta?" Nevsky asked, clearing his throat.

"Alexander Hradec is here to see you. Shall I send him in?" she inquired.

Nevsky paused then remembered his already appointed meeting with his Minister of State, "Yes, of course"

The President took a seat and smoothed his deep red tie and adjusted hus suit jacket. The door opened and Hradec, with a plastered smile came striding in. He extended a long arm across the desk and shook it lightly with Nevsky.

"Alexander, what can I do for you?" Nevsky asked, settling back into his seat.

"Mr.President, I just got off the phone with Andel Karlovy who is currently at an assembly of members of the League of Venice and other nations." Hradec's jaw set tightly as he prepared his next words, "Sir, I don't agree he was the right person for this task"

"Ease yourself, Alexander" Nevsky cracked a smile, he knew full well the tension between those two men at almost every meeting he held with his cabinet, "Andel is more than suited for this task. He's exactly what we need"

"He insulted the Chancellor of Austria!" Hradec suddenly changed his facial features and gripped the arm rests.

"That's not how Andel put it" Nevsky shook his head.

"You talked to Karlovy? When?" Hradec's face drained of its' life-sustaining blood.

"Yes, just a while ago. He tells me that Austria with the support of other European nations are trying to bring back the Imperial hayday" nevsky leaned his head forward, eyes focused on Hradec who composed himself, "He says that some mystery man that spoke with the Chancellor made numerous threatening comments to the non-European attendees."

"Well-This League could help elevate Kulikovia" Hradec is stumbling for words.

"This League would compromise our ideaology and turn us into a nation of hypocrates" Nevsky's voice rumbled, "I am not going to sell my soul nor a single Kulikovian soul for International glory"

"But we could face serious problems with the other European nations"

"If everyone was jumping off of a bridge, would you do it to?" The President asks, crossing his arms. It became obvious that those steel gray eyes were already set on a course of action. "We can't let the Austrians bully us into an alliance."

"What of retribution. If they do set out to reestablish colonial pocessions, what of us?"

"Karlovy advised me and I agree that we should do nothing other than become friends with the large, non-European powers so that we won't have to be weary of Austrian saber-rattling"

"Karlovy is a drunk, a washed-up aide" Hradec feels himself slipping.

"He may be rough around the edges but we can't have anyone soft representing us at this juncture. We must keep a strong apperance" Nevsky balls his hands into fists and tightens his muscles.

The two continued debating and discussing the issue with the League of Venice. Nevsky finally dismissed a defeated and inbittered Hradec who stomped out of his office and swung the door close sharply

http://www.esnathens.gr/files/uploaded/Athens_seal.jpg

Official Communique of the Mediterranean Alliance

To: President Nevsky
From: Lucrezia Dellatorre
Re: Meeting

Greetings President Nevsky,

I am Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Mediterranean Alliance. I wish to meet with you personally, on your soil or ours, to discuss matters of great importance regarding diplomacy and military affairs. Please respond as soon as possible, as these issues are time-sensitive.

Regards,
Lucrezia Dellatorre
Minister of Foreign Affairs; The Mediterranean Alliance

From: The Office of President Nevsky
To: The Office of Lucrezia Dellatorre

I am most looking forward to meeting you and discuss our current situation in Europe and abroad. Your offer is accepted and I would like this meeting to take place in Jonensberg. Hopefully, we can put whatever uncertainties and inhibitions our two nations have, at rest.

Very Respectfully,
President Dimitri Nevsky

Alexander Hradec retired to his office to brood over his latest meeting with President Nevsky. The office's silence helps him to concentrate on his next move. Politics is an exciting, yet periless game. It is most similar to chess in certain aspects. Right now he is playing chess against Karlovy who is on the offensive, threatening his queen, his most powerful piece. These two men have faced-off numerous times. He came highly recommended and Hradec had no idea the sleeper cell he brought into his operation. Andel Karlovy is a Socialist, thru and thru. A Czech-born former professor and expert in international politics. He is like a tired bear, his presence, though looming, is benign. Of course, once he is roused, karlovy is a force to reckon with.

Hradec thought he had his chance to rid himself of this mistake last year when the two exchanged ill words during a cabinet meeting in the presence of the President. To this day, he racks his brain trying to single out a reason why Karlovy still had a desk after lunch that day. Since then, the two were on sharp opposite ends.

Suddenly, the cell phone rang on his desk. The sound of it vibrating against the surface of the desk snapped him from his angered daze. He flipped it open and listened intently to the speaker on the other side.

"Yes?...Of course not, it all went well...I understand..." and the other end went dead. He grasped the phone even as the dead tone resounded. A knot in his throat developed and he couldn't clear it out and began to cough. The phone returned to its' place on the desk and there was a soft knock on the door.

"Enter" Hradec managed, standing up and pushing the chair back to get to a bottle of water in a mini-fridge he kept in his office.

The door opened slowly and a man in a dark suit stepped in and closed the door gently. He was balding, possibly early fifties or late forties with lines of age appearing across his face. His eyes were dull brown.

"Mr. Hradec, we have business to discuss" the man said, inviting himself to one of the seats as Hradec gulped down some water and screwed the cap tight and fixed his tie.

"Otakar Damek, what a suprise"

"My visit is no suprise to you, especially after the debacle at the League of Venice" Damek said as his eyes wandered across and around the room, taking special note of a framed picture on his desk of his family.

"It was not a debacle, Otakar" Hradec reassuring himself more than Damek, "Damage control is being done. An Italian representative is meeting with the President"

"Do we know this person?" Damek tapped his knee.

"No, we don't know her" Hradec took a seat behind his desk and saw those dull brown eyes fixated on him.

"It was a mistake to send Andel karlovy to the meeting. You know above all else how he can get"

"The President recommended him, there was nothing I could've done, I-"

Damek raised his hand, silencing Hradec mid-sentence, "Save it, friend. it's too late for that talk. We must adapt and overcome. Maybe this Italian can convince the President."

"I couldn't say. Nevsky insisted on meeting her alone" Hradec felt himself shrinking in his chair.

"We can't afford this to go south" Damek emphasized.

"I can deal with it. There will be other opportunities"

Damek leaned forward, his voice stern and quiet, forcing you to listen carefully, "You can't afford for this to go south"

With that message delivered which Hradec took in, forcing him to sit back as if the force of the message weighed against his chest. Damek stood up and left, leaving Hradec to sit in his chair, reevaluating his position in this whole web.

Kosice, Province of Kosice

The Hlavna Ulcia runs through the heart of then provincial capital of this southeastern province of Kulikovia. It is a beautiful city of over 200,000 citizens and an economic hub for the area. Several key landmarks of notable beauty straddle the main street including the St.Elizabeth Cathedral and the State Theatre. The State runs several cultural as well as economic oragnizations throughout the nation.

The Cafe Koszyce offers a close view of the Cathedral which attracxts foreign tourists and religious people year-round. Lazy Spring clouds glaze across the afternoon sky as pedestrians walk up and down the streets about their business. Several tourists stand at the gates of the Cathedral to tak pictures to take back to their friends to show off.

A man wearing a khaki shirt with the sleeves rolled up, eyes crooked down to today's issue of the Kosice Standard. He casually glances up, scanning the crowd then returns to the domestic section of the newspaper. The State runs most of the media but several free ones do exist. He is in his mid thorties in excellent physical condition. His face was rough and unshaven, eyes were a steely blue that could pierce anyone's soul.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?" asked a passerby.

"It's 2:12" the man replied bluntly, glancing down at his watch but not at the passerby who thanked him and continued on his way. Suddenly, from behind the newspaper hie could hear the chair opposite him scrape against the ground and the shifting of weight into the chair. He casually set down his newspaper and folded it. A man with a trimmed mustache behind dark sunglasses sat opposite him.

"What news do you have for me?" this new person asked. He grunted as his leg swung under the table and placed a black cane onto the table.

"It was a success"

"Any traces?"

"Taken care of. The police will find them eventually but by then the trail will be colder than the winter"

"That is good news, Resnik" the man with the limp said.

"What of your end?" Resnik asked, his left eye caught the waitress again. She was quite beautiful, medium blonde hair, blue eyes. His thoughts drifted for a brief moment then snapped back to business.

"The transfer is complete. We will call you when the next stage is ready" with that, the man lifted himself out of the chair and began to limp off, leaving Resnik there alone, eyeing the waitress. He fought his natural urges, maybe sometime later he'll have time. But now there is much planning to do. He picked up the newspaper and walked away.

Across the street, a woman with medium black hair, with a bandana on her head worked behind a vendor. as she saw the man leave she disappeared from the vendors and into the main shoppe inside.

"Are you in place?" She asked, one finger on an earpiece.

"Roger, we have a tail on him" crackled the man on the other end.

"Good, keep me up to date" and she began to change clothes.

Resnik continued down the main Street and discarded the newspaper in a bin and continued on his way. Further behind him a young man in a hoodie kept a keen eye on him. Across the street, another man walked, paying special attention to this 'Resnik'. The flow of pedestrians became more concentrated near the State Theatre which was having an afternoon showing of some play that the Kosice Theatrical Group staged. Through the thick crowds, the follower struggled past the people, against the tide.

Suddenly, Resnik disappeared. The follower cursed under his breath.

"I lost him" he said into a mic that ran down his sleeve and ended at the cuff, trying not to make it obvious.

"Damn, keep straight ahead. We'll pull another assest to assist" said the woman from the vendor. She sat in a painting van which contained radio equipment, sound equipment,m and several screens. An overweight technician with thick glasses worked on some equipment.

"He's not making any calls" he said to the woman.

"I wish he was, the we could find him" she replied, shifting her long legs in the cramped surroundings, "Pavol, just keep an eye out for transmissions, okay?"

Back on the street, the one watchdog rounded a corner and shifted his head from side to side, there was no sign of him. Resnik was a ghost. Suddenly, he caught a brief flash of him further down and turning away. He radioed in that contact sighted and he was moving closer.

"Negative, keep your distance and await the second watchdog!" the woman ordered into the mic.

Despite the order, the young eager agent moved ahead anyways, citing they can't afford to let him slip away. He quickened his stride as the pedestrian traffic thinned. He walked past the opening in an alley and two forceful hands grasped him and pulled him into the alley...

"Watchdog 1, come in" the woman said, "Can you read me?"

The second watchdog finally pushed past the crowd that formed near the alley and was forced to produce his Ministry of Domestic Security Badge to force the crowd back. Watchdog 1 lay in a pool of his own blood...

"We finally have a picture of this mystery man" nodded Alojz Rowecki, Deputy Station Chief from Bratislava branch of the MDS (Ministry of Domestic Security).

"And a name" replied Palov, one of the watchdogs as he sat in a chair. The room is in the basement of a tavern in the city of Kosice. It is dimly lit so several lgihts were brought in and cranked by a generator. There are long tables with files, equipment, and other items. A chalkboard is dotted with names, dates, locations, and several pictures.

"What do we have on this name?" Rowecki asked, walking up to the chalkboard and observing a random picture taken of the man called "Resnik".

"It can't be his real name" Gustaw, another member of the team said as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Resnik means 'butcher' in Slovak. So, we think this is a codename or a tradename he goes by."

"And the guy with the limp?"

Gustaw flipped tyhrough some pages, skimming down halfway, "Milos Bellic" he flipped another page, "He's an ex-member of the Slovakian Congressional Party. Current address in Bratislava, one deceased wife...no children. A bit of an outspoken man. His views within the SLP got him kicked out. It's believed but never proven that he has ties with the SLM...Leg was crushed in a coal mining accident when he was younger. That's pretty much all we have"

"Could this Resnik guy have links to the SLM?" Rowecki nodded, scratching his head.

"It's a possibility. We're still searching for any mentions of 'Resnik' or 'butcher' but so far there's nothing."

"Good, keep me up to date. We have one surveillance team on Milos Bellic but Resnik is MIA after...After the incident on Main Street" Rowecki's attention turned to the woman who sat off on the corner, silent and brooding, "The rest of you are dismissed...Ashira, stay after for a bit.

Ashira Konovski's head jolted up and nodded. A sigh rolled out of her throat as the others shuffled out of the room, giving her mixed looks. Rowecki stood there, searching for his next words.

"What happened out there, Ashira?"

"Dawid proved himself, he just got overeager" Ashira replied.

"You put a junior agent in charge of tracking a dangerous subject...There's going to be an inquiry as you understand. It was an error that got a man killed and the suspect escaped and who knows when he'll pop up on the radar again. He'll probably go underground after yesterday."

"I understand, sir" Ashira replied dryly, "Is that all?"

"Yes...Find me this guy while you still have a job"

Ashira stood up, giving him a stern look and departed.

The fire is beginning to die in the fireplace. The flames are struggling to reach their former glory an hour ago and hunger for life. They beckon Hradec who's eyes are fixated on his dying companion in his own private study. The fire dimly illuminates his study. Rows of book cases line the walls while a globe sits in the corner. There is a chestnut desk and a leather couch across in the other end. An empty glass of cognac sits on the mantlepiece which is also decorated with trinkets, photos, and an old-fashioned coffee grinder that once belonged to his grandfather.

Finally, he grasped a small log from next to the stone fireplace and casually dropped it onto the flames which responded instantly and joyfully. The solitude of the study is a welcomed retreat from his family and the problems that burden his shoulders. As the light gloomed brighter, he shifted from the mantlepiece and to the liquor cabinet to refill the glass. He met with Colonel Ludvik Masaryk, Commanding Officer of the 24th Regiment which resides in Kulikovian Army Station Bratislava. The meeting proved fruitfull and several key points being laid out and discusses.

Masaryk is a veteran of the Border War, a small armed conflict which occurred in 1985 between elements of the KPAF and the Soviet Union. It was a brief standoff which ignited into a week long battle. Due to the tensions rising in Europe between NATO and the Warsaw Pact with Kulikovia right inbetween. A Soviet border unit during the night stumbled onto Kulikovian territory and was discovered, ambushed, and captured by elements of the Revolutionary Guard. When word spread of this nighttime engagement and Soviet casualties. Three infantry divisions of the Red Army swelled to the border and a week's worth of artillery exchanges and several checked flanking movements ended after a ceasefire agreement brokered between the two governments moderated by the UN. Colonel Masaryk was a private at the time and was wounded in the shoulder during a half-hearted Soviet advance.

The world heald its' breath as a possible fuse for WWIII came dangerously close to being lite. Many feared the United States would support Kulikovia if the KPAF should be broken. NATO forces moved to the western border of Kulikovia. They were planning on the Soviet Steamroller to keep plowing through Kulikovia and across Western Europe. Luckily, President Gregor Dantes managed to avoid a catastrophic war. All in all, a dozen Kulikovian soldiers were killed and over a hundred wounded. The Soviets lossed substantially more as well as several helicopters destroyed. The Kremlin feared a war as well and only committed three divisions as a more of show of strength and puffing of a chest, as oppossed to a real military campaign.

Masaryk was a cunning man and a very direct man. His men loved him, and he loved them. This was all part of his ideal in obtaining complete and utter loyalty from his men. Over 3,000 soldiers would follow him into Hell to face Satan himself if "Our Colonel" he affectionately was called, commanded so. This is what Hradec liked most about him as well as his duty to 'The Cause'.

Kosice

As normal in Spring, the inevitable rain comes as much of not more than the sunny, warm mornings. Fat clouds, laiden with rain which hovered menacingly over the city positioned themselves to let loose a barrage of rain upon the all-too cautious people of the city who came prepared with coats and umbrellas, awaiting the rainfall.

Finally, fat drops of water begin to patter against the windshield who's wipers begin the dutiful task of clearing away the water. They swish back and forth steadily, never wavering in their charge. Inspector Josef Krazny sighed as he made the turn-off from the main highway and down through an outskirted suburb of the city. He got the call half an hour ago and wearily willed himself out from an intoxicated slumber to manage his job. Dispatcher directed him to an isolated trainyard just south of the city where the body was found. The car drove down the emoty road which became rain-swelled in several areas but his car managed through. It wouldn't be long till road crews arrived to cordon off the road and redirect what little traffic the area gets.

At the entrance of the trainyard, an unlucky patrolman in his grayish-blue uniform, wearing a coat waved him through as the rain intensified. He felt sorry for the bastard but then thought of his own life and pittied the patrolman no longer.

"Josef, it's about time you got here" replied his partner, Erik Saeger who seemed bright and vibrant, as opposed to Krazny who hadn't shaved in over two weeks and was somewhere past a five o'clock shadow but just shy of a full beard.

"Rain's gettin alot worse" Krazny replies as he slides out of the car and turns the collar of his trenchcoat up and hunkers down into it as much as possible as they dart across from the foreman's building to the train shelter. Inside there are strands of police tape strung across several areas. Wrapped around poles like a tapestry of crime. Several more patrolmen, medical examiners, and CSS (Crime Scene Service) all doing their assigned tasks.

"What do we have?" Krazny asked as they came upon the center of the organized mess. A man lie face down next to an old train cart, the red paint on the wood has faded from neglect.

"A couple of kids found the body two hours ago, they didn't see anyone else in the area" Saeger replied, both of their attentions on the body of a poor dead man, "He's got a bullet wound to the back of the head, there's tire tracks leading out of the trainyard but there's no fingerprints, no weapon, and we're still waiting on identification"

"His wallet?" Krazny grunted as he knelt down to get a better look at the man's face. It was the face of fatalistic suprise. The one visible eye was shot open as if Krazny snuck up on him. Blood soaked down the back of his neck and formed a puddle near his face.

"Missing, there's no identification on him. There's no car left here."

"So we have nothing?" Krazny stood up shakily. He removed some gloves and snapped them on his hands and cracked his knuckles.

"Sadly" Saeger exasped, "When CSS is done we'll have an idea of when he was killed, then work from there"

"Good, you said those kids saw no one else around here?" his head cocked over his shoulder.

"Right, they gave statements and were released" the junior inspector walked around the body and winced upon sight of the entry wound which looked disgusting, "What you think of this mess? I'm thinking a drug deal or something, maybe a mob hit?"

"Possibly, anything's possible around here" Krazny shoved his hands in his pocket and kicked over a rock.

The Old District straddles the Vistula river and makes for the core of the city. It offers a tourist's dream of narrow rustic streets, brightly colored buildings with iron balconies. It is the oldest party of the city dating back well before the 1500's. During WWII it was utterly destroyed during the Jonensberg Uprising. After the war, thanks in part from funding provided by the Marshall Plan, the Old District as well as the city as a whole was rebuilt and restored to its' pre-war glory.

Andel Karlovy stepped out to his balcony which overlooked the Vistula in the evening light. It was a soothing and calming vista. The skyline of modern Jonesberg meshed with the Renaissance beauty of the old. Several barges and a tourist boat coast down the length of the river. The street lamps flicker on and the evening-goers crowded the open cafes. Down one of the streets there is a chapter of the Kulikovian Youth Party, selling food for a fundraiser. The KYP is a state-run program designed to indoctrinate youth into Socialism and its' ideals. It's similar to the American Boy Scouts. They wear red armbands around their arms and wear childish smiles on their faces. Andel was a member of the KYP which also served as a moral guideline for kids growing up. Membership expires at age 18. His own son is in another chapter.

A cool breeze sweeps down the Vistula and he brings his arms in for warmth till it passes. Then, his hands grasp the balcony and leans forward, basking in the evening. His wife, Hanna is in the kitchen preparing dinner. The trip to Venice and Vienne took a toll on the weary advisor who sparred with the heads of Europe and butt-heads with his boss, Alexander Hradec. News reached him of Kulikovia's entrance into the League. He wasn't convinced by either the entry nor Hradec's reasoning for joining.

As he contemplated the latest events he suddenly froze as he turned to go back inside. It sounded like a wasp but impacted him with the force of an elephant. He staggered against the balcony and began grasping for air but nothing was passing through his throat, only a gargle. His shocked eyes looked down to see a red splotch on his chest. His legs buckled and the Vistula swirled and blurred. Karlovy crumpled to the ground...

"Dammit!" Rowecki cursed as he skimmed through a report. Of course, he didn't need a report to know what's going on. It was all over the news, at every newstand. Rumors and chatter were on everyone's mouths. It clustered the media and airwaves. The MDS had to intervene and ordered the Worker's Report to cease running the story. The government was reacting as it normally did to any unwanted attention and scrutiny. This was one thing anyone could rely on the State to do.

The entire team met in the drab cafe basement for an emergency meeting. They were pulled from their duties, except for the watchdogs on Bellic who made no movement out of his flat.

"The Jonensberg Central Train Station captured these photos" Rowecki said, passing out several black and white yet crystal clear photos of a man in a light jacket, sunglasses, and carrying a small bag. There was no mistake, it was Resnik, the man who escaped them several days prior. This was the first and only wave he made in the pool and since then has disappeared again.

"The bastard slipped through our nets and made it all the way to Jonensberg and assasinated a high political leader" The Chief Officer began, venting, "He slipped through our fingers," he held his fingers out, "We had this jackal! Now he's struck and gone into the wind"

"We should've taken him when we had the chance" said Stanislav Kazimirez, one of the field agents. His face contorted and jaw set upon news of this assasination.

"For what?" Ashira finally said, uncrossing her arms, "We had nothing on him. The man was a mystery when we first saw him and now he's still a mystery. We couldn't have even questioned him"

"If we still had a tail on him then maybe this could've been avoided" Rowecki stepped in, pointing at the tv screen which showed a reporter outside Jonensberg Central Hospital, the fvolume was muted but the message got across clear regardless.

"Sir, we must move on. I made an error and one of our men is dead. We have to concentrate on finding Resnik again and figure out why he met with Bellic" Ashira felt the sting of scrutiny upon her face but brushed it off. Being a woman in the MDS meant you had to be able to take the blows and play hard ball with the boys.

"Alright" Rowecki sighed, "Let's try to find a tie between these men. Ideas?"

Kazimirez stepped forward and offered his opinion, throwing a glance at Ashira then back to the group, "There's a possibility that this 'Resnik' is a hired gun or assasin. Bellic is believed to have ties with the SLM but that was never proven. He was a maverick at the Regional Congress in Bratislava. Maybe this is another attack. Seeing how there were reports of that bank job a few weeks ago being carried out by men claiming to be members of the SLM."

"Good, that sounds reasonable, anything on the backround check for 'Resnik'?"

"There's nothing that we can find. This man is a ghost" Parlov said, flipping through his notepad.

"Resnik's good, so he must be a professional. He slipped past us, made no blips on the radar and made it all the way to Jonensberg, kill a high ranking offical, and is still unaccounted for. He's been in the business for a while" Ashira offerd her opinion, "So, there has to be something. We'll start reeling in our informants and street people and try and find some dirt"

Mikolas Brevic waited eagerly. He tapped his foot against the pavement and watched a pair of runners jog lightly past him on the trail. Jonensberg Central Park offered an escape from the hustle of the city which surrounded it, like concrete bars encasing a green captive which refused to bend to its' jailer's wim. He wore a plain gray hoodie with a ball cap, jeans, and hiking boots. To anyone passing by, he'd look just like another patron. The 19yr old from Kosice plastered his face against the train window when it snaked up the Vistula in sight of Jonensberg, the view took his breathe away. Kosice was beautiful but Jonensberg was sprawling, modern yet still maintained a rustic ora around it.

Just a few months ago he would've believed it impossible that he himself would be traveling to this city for such an important job. Despite this, he already missed Anya, his girlfriend and wretched his heart about not telling her he was leaving for Jonensberg. But, he said: "Tell no one you are going to Jonensberg, someone will contact you there"

Mikolas suspected that his name 'Andrei' was a fake one but he didn't mind nor ever questioned him about it. Andrei gave him a purpose, a higher cause to serve than that of his own existance. They spoke for hours about politics, philosophy, and history. Andrei knew much about Slovakia and how we will never be like the rest of Kulikovia.

"We were never meant to be a part of Kulikovia. It is not in our nature to not have an identity and a free state. We are prisoners, Slovakia is a prisoner. It is time for us to set Slovakia free" Andrei would say during a discussion.

As a breeze crossed over the park, causing the trees to sway and their leaves dance, a man wearing a sleeve-less T and running pants made his way to Mikolas. He stopped in front of Mikolas and offered a smile,

"You must me Mikolas Brevic, yes?" the jogger asked, breathing slightly heavier than normal.

"Y-Yes, that's me" Mikolas sheepishly replied, standing up.

"Excellent, I'll take you to your apartment where we can discuss things further" Without waiting for a reply the jogger began to walk, wiping sweat brom his brow.

"What is your name?" Mikolas asked, getting into step behind his contact.

"Just call me Resnik"

The funeral held for Karlovy was a quaint and simple one for a simple man. The Statsin Cemetary occupied several considerable acres on the outskirt of the city. It is a highly respected and honored ground where the heroes of the State are buried as well as officals and other prominent people. A sleak caravan of black cars snaked their way through the entrance which was manned by two Revolutionary Guardsmen in their dress unifroms who saluted the motorcade. Trees dotted along the path as marking stones and flags dotted the hills and low areas of the cemetary.

Nevsky and Tanya, his wife stood solemn while other officals and friends of Karlovy's family sat around his coffin. Hanna Karlovy remained strong for her husband who wouldn't have wnated her to be a wailing mourner but rather remember him is solemn silence.

A few words were spoke by various people including President Nevsky who stated: "Andel Karlovy was a champion of Kulikovia. A modern David standing against the Goliath which is the corrupt world. His sort will be missed yet more importantly, praised".

Afterwards, Nevsky consouled Hanna who simply rested a hand on Nevsky's and thanked him for coming.

"These are troubled times" Tanya said as the both of them watched Hanna almost collapsing into the arm of her son.

"Indeed, these are troubled times" Nevsky replied and shoved his hands into his deep pockets. Tanya looped an arm through his and drew close, wanting her husband's warmth for this day.

"What will happen to her?"

"I told her we would gladly provide protection or move her somewhere else"

"Her reply?"

"She declined, saying she'd rather join her husband sooner than later" The President looked at his wife and the two made their way back to the motorcade, surrounded by Protective Services, the guardians of the president.

Damek poured himself a glass of vodka while he awaited Hradec to return. The Minister attended Karlovy's funeral and would return shortly. The home was a rather nice one, though not as nice as his own in Bratislava. He sneered at the thought of living in Jonensberg and amoung the Poles. These were a people he couldn't tolerate any longer. They were masters of Kulikovia, over Slovakia more importantly. This above all irritated his sense of national pride.

"Would you care for something to drink?" Hradec smarted as he entered th office and closed the door gently behind him.

"Don't mind if I do" Damek said, taking a sip of the vodka, "How was the funeral?" a smirk curled his lips.

Hradec paused, "As fine as a funeral can be"

Damek made his way to a bookcase and indiscriminatly began slidding out a book and pushing it back in, "Everything's ironclad now"

"Don't be so sure, The MDS is heading the investigation. Kolokov is like a bloodhound and relentless in his pursuits" Hradec replied.

"Do you think he will be a problem as well?"

"No" Hradec hesitated, "All we have to do is leave another trail of bread crumbs...How is our man doing?"

"He's still here as you know. Of course, through Andrei I've been told our asset may need safe passage back to Kosice"

"That's no problem, I can arrange everything"

"Good, glad to hear you're still with us on this. We all are linked to one another, yes?"

"Yes, I'm fully aware of that" Hradec poured himself a generous amount.

Another MDS team came in and replaced Rowecki's team. There was still no moevement or headway with Bellic so MDS Central Ministry and Yuri Kolokov, Chief of Operations decided to bring Rowecki's team to Jonensberg to assist in the apprehension of Resnik. Latest intelligence reports and the fact that they believe Resnik is still in the Jonensberg area led them to speculate that there may be another incident and will happen soon. The Kosice Team were trying to find Resnik months ago and though they knew little about him, they knew more than MDS Central.

MDS Security Forces, in response to Karlovy's assasination, reacted as many would expect. Random checkpoints have sprung up, Resnik's photo plastered at each of them as well as police precincts. Ashira Konovski heatly contested doing this, believing it would force Resnik underground. However, Rowecki greenlighted the move. The coordinating of assets proved difficult, time consuming, and frustrating. Too much bureacracy and red tape, as well as territorial pissing matches further hampered their operation.

"The fact of the matter is Resnik is good-better than us even" Ashira admitted.

Rowecki massaged his eyebrows, setting a pen down, "Ashira-I know this fact. We are like a lumbering giant and Resnik is more flexable. But, we have to keep trying. The other tails on known SLM associates turned up negative. He may not even be working with the SLM"

"Sir, I know he's working with the SLM. The meeting with Bellic is more than coincedence. Maybe the connection is that simple."

"Security Forces have stepped up their operations in the Political District as well as other key areas around the city. He will be caught"