NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is an Invite Only Role Play. If you wish to join, as per Ralkovia's request, post here in OOC for an Invite. This RP takes place in Ralkovia. This RP is intended as a non-serious Role Play, but to be considered serious if circumstances allow. Please keep all OOC civil and polite, and do not go declaring war as you could not know the details of it ICly.

IC:

The Peoples Empire of Ralkovia - Capital City of Raskovia
10:52 PM Standard Time

Drake Vultimir had entered Ralkovia five years earlier on a routine assignment from the many offices of the Anagonian Military High Command, as was the case for every Soviet Trooper assigned to Foreign Intelligence. Considering himself originally to be quite lucky, his orders in the beginning was to monitor the radical government changes and report back whether the near-anarchy of Ralkovia would prove to be a threat to Anagonian influence across the globe. All reports came back negative, as the Peoples Empire was relatively harmless in a political sense. He followed his orders throughout, merging with Ralkovian society and becoming one of its own, always keeping an eye on military and political affairs when the opportunity presented itself. He made a few contacts as well.

One such contact informed Drake of an uncanny opportunity to influence the government and political establishment of Ralkovia. After investigating the contacts information and finding it relevant, he contacted Intelligence and got the green light to go with an Operation. Codenamed "Blinding" as per the literal unknown of the possibility to influence a foreign government from the inside, Drake set out with Ralkovian Dollars and bribed everyone whom he knew would sell out information. Those that would talk, he killed, and thankfully they were few. Eventually he got what he wanted.

Now sitting at a Ralkovian diner somewhere in Raskovia, he awaited the arrival of Thomas Washington. Drakes alliby was air-tight, having papers and a perfectly forged birth certificate to proclaim himself a rightful voter in the upcoming election. He would ask Thomas a few questions, citing that he blogged for an online community that had thousands of potential voters. If worse came to worse, Intelligence would provide the website and people to make up that end of the bargain. He checked outside, seeing it raining, and caught a glimpse of himself in the glass reflection.

Drake Vultimir had been in the Anagonian Armed Forces as far back as he could remember. Joining the Soviet Troopers at a young age, and establishing himself as an excellent soldier and tactician, Drake garnered the nickname "Dragon" after several skirmishes. He looked forty-two, but in reality he was nearing sixty-one. His body was kept in good condition thanks to advancements in both technology and physical education and implementation. He stood about five feet nine inches, his hair a mix of gray and raven black. His eyes didn't stand out, a dark blue that matched almost any outfit he wore. He currently wore a leather jacket that hid a blue t-shirt and jeans, standard civilian clothing. Underneath, and well hidden, he kept a single knife. He knew that here, that wouldn't be unusual.

Gazing at his wrist-watch, he pondered when Thomas would show up. He reserved a booth for the two, and kept a recording device in one of the jackets pockets. On his belt was his PDA, looking like a cheap cell phone for poor people. He stroked a hand across his light gray beard and mustache, thinking of the night to come, and wondering how he could kill Thomas if things didn't go as planned.

Thomas Washington looked around the room before spotting the man named Drake. The Liberal Party was ahead but he still needed to cement his lead. He smiled, finally the world would see a democratic ralkovia.

He stopped in front of the table and shook the mans hand,"Its good to finally see you Mr. Drake. I hope by the end of tonight we will be able to secure a new vote that will lead to many new votes."

Drake smiled in return. Beneath his genuine expression he took notes of Thomas; his posture, his speech. He already clicked on the recorder, it was digital and would record up to twelve hours or as long as the battery lasted. He gestured for Thomas to sit after shaking his hand, watching as he did and placing his hands on the table clamping them together in a contemplative style. "It's very good to meet you too, Mr. Washington."

He reached inside his pocket, taking out a pen and a notepad, preparing to write. Upon seeing Thomas' look, he chuckled. "It's for my blog, remember? Anyway, I was impressed by your biography and skills, Mr. Washington." He smiled, "I'd like to ask you a few questions, but first can I call you Thomas?"

"You can call me tom, its what I went by as a child," he said smiling. His smile was a glitter of teeth.

Drake wrote something down, then smiled back at Thomas. "Alright Tom, now what do you plan on doing with Ralkovia? What is your platform in detail?"

Abandoned Building, Raskovia, Ralkovia

Hitler sat with a charismatic look in his eyes as a Kukri machete was skillfully thrown into the thick mustache of Stalin's cowardly looking face, before a man clad in black armor pulled it out.

The man was an Agent of the Special Tactics Force, the world-feared elites of the Internal Control Department. There were seven Agents.

Sitting in the next room was thirty men; they weren't S.T.F. Agents. They were members of the unknown Gedanke-Polizei, the third Secret Police of the Order.

But why would there be 37 elite GWO paramilitary forces in an ally of the Federation? Simple. They were going to kill the Liberty Party candidate and ensure a Fascist win in Ralkovia. It took four CSDVs to land them in Ralkovia, launching from the GWO Backstabber-Class Stealth Ship, the FWS Bastard. They were mainly armed with the MI-8A2 MAW system, since it could mimic just about any firearm. Of course, they carried EASR-L150 .50 BMG sniper rifles and F.S.I.A.A.S. automatic shotguns as well, not counting their excessive amounts of sidearms and explosives. They had turned the upper floors of that old building into what would look to most as a Skinhead Armory.

Drake wrote something down, then smiled back at Thomas. "Alright Tom, now what do you plan on doing with Ralkovia? What is your platform in detail?"

"Well I hope to bring ralkovia out of her economic depression by creating new jobs. I also will end the 13 trillion dollars of military funding and 6 trillion for law and order to fuel new construction of roads and bridges, fund social welfare and healthcare, and preserving the enviroment. I would give all ralkovians a 30% tax break. With this I would be able to pay off our debts as well as funding a new expansion of trade.

Ralkovians will be able to go to the store and pay $2 for a loaf of bread instead of $20."

OOC: Would anyone mind if I RPed as a group (maybe 16-ish) of Leistungi special forces soldiers (KSK) deployed secretly to Raskovia to protect Washington?

Drake was busy writing on the notepad, looking at Thomas as he did. As Thomas finished, Drake smiled and nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I see," he said after Thomas finished, "So you purpose to enhance the betterment of Ralkovian life, and sacrifice defense for a time to fix the economy." Drake nodded once more, "Seems like a good plan, but what do you purpose to do about the hordes of Facists supporters that will undoubtedly try to kill you?"

(Its fine with me, if anagonia agrees, and GWO doesn't raise hell you can join)

"Well I worry less about them then the infastructure of ralkovia. Fascism is a wrong form of government. Any government that runs on the sole power of the military is not right."

OOC: I don't mind, he's a good role player, and I know he'll keep to the rules.

IC:

Drake nodded once again, writing down his response, then sitting and contemplating for a moment. A waitress came up asking if they needed anything, Drake ordering two coffees for Thomas and him. He then pulled his cellphone from his pocket and began what looked like sending a text message, waiting a few seconds, and then smiled back at Thomas. "Sorry about that, we blogger's got fans to answer." He chuckled, "From what I hear so far I'm sure my readers will want to vote for you."

He then set the pen and notepad down, revealing the journalist style notes he had jotted down, and folded his hands on the table with a serious look to Thomas. "I also know that a certain party would be interested in helping you achieve these goals, both by supporting your new government and protecting you during your time of recover." He tilted his head slightly with an inquiring gaze, "I'm sure there are lots of people out there who'd want to ruin a free and democratic Ralkovia during its transition from fascism, and I know its going to be hell just trying to stay alive during these times." His expression maintained seriousness, "What if I told you that a few friends of mine have some interesting friends around the world that could ensure Ralkovia's transition went smooth and safe under your leadership?"

Thomas looked at the man for several minutes thinking,"What friends?" He said interested but calmy. His skill as a politician kept him from showing fear. He realized that this man wasn't ralkovian right away.

Drake knew his cover had been blown, but he remained calm as well. His training maintained his posture and body stance, his expression remained serious as he sighed softly looking out the large window of the Diner. Thomas and his reflection apparent, and he calmly looked around the diner as if observing his surroundings. Seemingly satisfied, he pulled out the digital recorder and sat it beside the notepad so no one but Thomas and he would notice. He then pulled out his cell phone, handling it as if expecting another text message.

"Mr. Washington," he said softly but easily heard, "this friend of mine has interest in your party, and your doctrine of reform. This friend supports you and your cause, and this friend has unlimited funds to ensure your election. This friend can ensure that all opposition is quietly taken out, and ensure that your goals for your beautiful nation are achieved." He flipped the phone open, gazing quickly as it vibrated because of another message, looking back at Thomas. "This friend also wants to meet you, and ensure your survival." He closed the flip-phone with a snap, placing it back into his pocket. "Now tell me, Mr. Washington, do I need to take you willingly or unwillingly? I do not have time to debate issues, your life could already be at risk, and the window for you to meet my friend is closing."

"I will go, but please tell me who my benefactor is first"

(Would anyone mind if an assassin attempted to kill Washington?)

OOC: If Ralkovia allows.

"Your benefactor will be disclosed when we are away from public eyes," he said quietly. He then grabbed the recorder and placed it in his other pocket, standing from his booth and looked down to Thomas. "I have a vehicle outside, we will go to the country-side. There, you will meet your benefactor." He motioned for Thomas to follow him.

He followed, he really had no choices the man probably already had a pistol with him and would shoot him if he ran away and he seemed to try to be helping albeit in a rather informal unordinary way. Thomas got up and followed him to the vehicle.

They entered the vehicle without incident, Drake opening the passenger door for Thomas and entering the driver side after closing the passenger door. They drove from Raskovia rather calmly, taking an hour or two without conversation. By now it was after twelve o'clock in the morning, the half-moon showing some light on the single road leading to the country-side. Drake pulled the vehicle over as headlights beamed twice up ahead. They pulled just feet away from the other vehicle, which looked to be some secret service vehicle colored black. Drake led Thomas from his side of the vehicle to the unknown vehicle, helping him entering the back seat as Drake got in on the other side.

Finally the grip of silence ended as the engine started, the driver wearing a nice black two-piece suit as he turned the vehicle around and continued driving further and further to the country-side. The passenger turned around in the seat, a middle-aged man with brown hair and hazel eyes. His outfit was like the driver, a black two-piece suit, and offered his hand to Thomas.

"Thomas Washington, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Caster Oblivion, Chief of Foreign Affairs and Activities in the United Republic of Anagonia." He looked to Drake, "You've met my long-time Comrade, and he'll be your personal bodyguard from here on out." He looked back to Thomas, "I have a few things to go over with you, so we'll be heading to the coast for a few hours. Don't worry, we'll return you unharmed." He smiled, "I bet you have a few questions, so go ahead and ask them." Caster's hand still offered for a shake.

((OOC: I'm waiting for when Washington will be known to be exposed to the public, or until my troops find a source of information... perhaps Ralkovia could have a campaign advisor or something walk by the abandoned building? I dunno.))

((OOC: I'm waiting for when Washington will be known to be exposed to the public, or until my troops find a source of information... perhaps Ralkovia could have a campaign advisor or something walk by the abandoned building? I dunno.))

OOC: I think its mostly freeform at this point, so you go like you want. That way its interesting, because were making a story here and everyones contributing to it. So, dream up something, but don't go so far as to make it logically impossible. I don't think Ralkovia will disagree!

Thomas shook the mans hand,"So I assume your country will support are party?" He said with interest in his voice. He had just realized that he had the supporter of a major player in the world.

Abandoned Building, Raskovia

Captain FC-IOU453 heard a nearby church-sounding bell ring, announcing the time. The chatter between the S.T.F. Agents and Gedanke-Polizei Operatives ceased as they all glanced towards U453. He nodded.

The sound of light metal clinking and zippers filled the building as they were preparing for the operation. Magazines were slammed into rifles, AGMOEDs were being fired up, and dimmers were clicking as their wearers flipped the switch. Specialist FC-IEU33 would be the Agent pulling the trigger, while Johan Schwartz would be the Operative acting as his spotter. The other members of the team would be protecting them, monitoring for counter-snipers or foot patrols. Earlier that week, they had commandeered two vans, one being a plumbing company's vehicle, and the other belonging to a weed-smoking hippy. They left three men behind to make sure nobody wandered into the upper floor of the building (Where their stuff was; the bottom floor has no sign of them), while the others crammed into the vans. According to their sources, Washington was meeting with some sort of political adviser. Regardless, the mission was simple; kill the man.

The vans made their way off into the city, reaching the projected zone with limited trouble (Another driver tried to brake in front of them, but the van simply pushed them out of the way). Pulling into separate alleyways, the troops disembarked, scaling the sides of buildings via ladders. One building had two men on it, U33 and Schwartz. U33 was armed with a massive L-150 rifle fresh off the production line of some prison being leased by the Emorden-Geist Weapons Manufacturing Corporation; the rifle completely dwarfed Schwartz's MI-8A2, which was configured in an 8mm Mauser Battle Rifle. Sitting atop the L150 was an MNB-4 scope, the pinnacle of digital combat optics systems. It gauged wind, distance, and weather to move a crosshair around the scope, as to mark the exact spot where the bullet would hit. There they sat, waiting for Washington. A picture of him sat against the low wall on top of the building. The only thing exposed in the sniper team was Schwartz, who was scoping the area out with a pair of binoculars.

The vehicle was nearing the coast by now, the smell of water came through the open window on Drake's passenger side. No cars passed them whatsoever, it was like the entire road was dead. Caster shook Thomas' hand firmly, smiling widely at Thomas' question. He nodded, "Anagonia will support your party, and your nations recovery from Fascist Control." He chuckled, looking out the windshield as a blockade of military vehicles came into view. Only the headlights of Caster's vehicle exposed them, showing what looked like two M3A3 Bradley Fighting Vehicle's blocked the road. Caster gazed back at Thomas, "I can tell you now that my nation will do everything in its power to ensure that you and your compatriots survive this ordeal, as we suspect its going to get bloody. Even your military might turn against you, so we might have to arrange for a division to be on the ground here."

Drake looked over to Thomas, the first time in a long while making eye contact. He smirked, "I don't think its going to get to that point, however. More than likely a division of Soviet Troopers can handle this situation without a problem."

The vehicle came to a halt, and almost immediately all four doors were opened by heavily armed Anagonian Marines. Each person, including Caster and Thomas, were searched for weapons. Drake was left alone as he headed towards one of the Bradley's and began conversing with what looked to be a Commander. The other three Marines escorted Caster, the Driver, and Thomas to the Bradley's, separating them as Caster and Thomas were placed into one and Drake and the Driver were placed in the other. Without hesitation, the tanks drove off road and towards the coast. Behind them someone got into the black vehicle and drove it off. Inside the first Bradley, surrounded by three Marines, Caster looked to Thomas. The interior lit by a dim red light. "As you can see, your nation is so deep in despair we can easily slip a few military assets in."

Caster talked quietly with the Marine Commander for a few moments, then looked back at Thomas. "Me and you will be taken on board a ship a couple miles off the coast, there we'll start debating what we need to do to get you in power."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

One Hour Earlier - Raskovia

The Chief of Foreign Affairs and Activities had already landed in Ralkovia, and Agent Lion had entered the country a few months prior to establish a chain of events with Drake Vultimir. They had gone through the ropes, made every possible plan for every possible event, and it wasn't until Lion was standing on the street corner a few miles from the diner that he discovered that everything was going horribly wrong. Seeing an accident was normal, but seeing the driver having a beat up face and roaring past the accident towards the general vicinity of the diner was greatly suspicious. Lion maintained a civilian attitude and posture, ignoring the accident and walking with his hands in his pockets. After the van had turned a corner, he tailed it quickly while sending a text message with his cell phone to Drake.

Standing at five foot two and dressed in a long trench coat to conceal the M25 HVAR (http://hawk.proboards1.com/index.cgi?board=Military&action=display&thread=30&page=1#57) he had strapped to his back and the Auto Mag Pistol (http://hawk.proboards1.com/index.cgi?board=Military&action=display&thread=30&page=1#60) with silencer to his side he was weighted down a bit and running awkward as if limping to the other side of the street. There he continued, catching a glimpse of the van as he entered his vehicle and began the long attempt to trail the van. It ended near an Abandoned building, where a few yards away he parked his vehicle in the alleyway and continued on foot. He unstrapped the M25 and held it to his side while keeping it concealed under the trench coat.

He spotted someone with Binoculars looking around, and continued a calm walk forward along the streets edge, turning into the alleyway to check for doors or any spot of entry. He knew he had been spotted by the watchman, he had missed. He didn't know whether they were intent on hitting the diner, but he was prepared to investigate. It was his job. He softly preped the M25 for live-fire, making sure it was loaded, with safety off.

OOC: Short and sweet.

Sniper Post, Raskovia

"Target acquired, he's over by that Diner... by God, that food's disgusting."

Instantly, U33 rose up and planted the L150 on the low wall. The small white dot scurrying across the screen. The dot painted itself over Washington's upper spine.

"Goodnight, George."

The shot rang out, echoing through the air. The Agent watched as the bullet missed, shattering a nearby window. One more shot rang out, ripping a lamp post open. The Agent's face resembled that of someone who had just been stabbed. Without saying a word, he planted the EASR into its bag, slung it on his back, and began heading for the ladder that he climbed the building on.

"We've got an infiltrator, presumably clueless and lost... not deemed a threat," muttered a Gedanke-Polizei Operative into his comms set. Ignoring this, the GP Operative began heading for his van, away from the unknown figure.

OOC: Gah, before anyone dies, Anagonia, you have a TG.

Agent Lion quickly used his phone to text Drake, and quickly placed it away as he pulled out the M25 for view. He aimed it towards where he assumed the shots rang out, and quickly assumed a military crouched stance as he began sweeping the ally with the M25. He was alone here, Drake would be leaving after reading the text, and he had to make sure these assassins didn't get away. He then spotted the van, and a figure running for it. He aimed for the figure and pulled the trigger, a three-burst shot rang out and he continued forward scanning the skyline as he quickly began an attempt to get to the van before the other enemies did.

Alleyway, Raskovia

The figure dropped and hit the ground with a sort of clank. Quickly, another figure was there, firing semi-automatic bursts of 8mm Mauser rounds at the assailant (The downed man was U33; Schwarz is the one firing). "Compromised, compromised! Requesting help by van #2!"

The sounds of two more people showing up were audible, though the darkness made visibility troublesome. A silenced burst from an MI-8A2 in 5mm/35SMc CQC configuration came from somewhere in the dark alley. Anyone would guess that these weren't standard terrorists...

Agent Lion returned fire to the second man, shooting two three-round bursts before rolling against the ally wall. He heard more shots, the darkness covering his frame as he continued along the side of the wall and into a door, the exterior bricks protruding to hide his form there. He moved from the slight defense of the protruding bricks to fire in the other direction, revealing his position, and wen back against the door. Breathing hard, a bullet had nearly missed him earlier. He held his shoulder, feeling it bleeding, realizing he had been hit.

"Shit..."

The firing stopped for a moment. The sounds of shells bouncing on the ground loudly reverberated through the alley. The sound of gas mask-effected breathing was audible. The GWO troops knew where Lion was; his thermal emissions were visible through the bricks. Slowly, the clopping of their boots came closer, with the GWO soldiers aiming their rifle at the brick outcrop. The one in front drew his Kukri with his left hand, holding it upside down to be coupled with his CQC MI-8A2. They were prepared to shoot the man in the limbs if he exposed himself again, as they wanted to "milk" him for information. Still, the boots came closer.

He had two choices, either die in a blaze of glory or be captured and tortured for information. Agent Lion looked behind him, noticing the door wasn't metal and could easily be breached. He held his arm tight, it was bleeding and he had a med pack to deal with it. But first he had to get out of this bind, and to do so would mean exposing himself. So, he breathed deep, and ran from his position quickly, then bolted towards the door and knocked it off the hinges with a loud cry.

From there, depending on how badly he was injured if he was hit again as he couldn't tell at this point, he ran into the hallway and up some stairs towards the next level. He held his M25 firmly, fully expecting them to follow. Perhaps he could manage an evacuation, if he could manage to get his phone and a few short seconds.

As soon as the door broke down, the clopping became quicker. IR lasers were turned on; only the AGMOEDs (As Lion presumably doesn't have thermal/infrared imaging optics) would be able to see them. More Agents and Operatives showed up, making sure the police weren't close by. An S.T.F. Agent was the first to see Lion, before taking cover and shouting, "Questo is fur mein brother!" ((E.G.I., don't try running that through a translator, lul)). As he finished shouting that, he leveled his F.S.I.A.A.S. and let off a stream of 12 gauge shotgun shells across the room, crouching and leaning into the doorway.

In the distance, sirens could be heard. Nicht gut. Almost instantly, all the Agents and Operatives suddenly seemed to vanish outside, taking the downed Agent with them. They headed back for their hideout, making sure they weren't followed.

Lion was hit by a shotgun round, and instantly collapsed into unconsciousness as he was flung into the wall. The hit had nearly done him in, and he was slowly dying. Perhaps he would be recovered, but his last thoughts were that of being tortured. He hoped to the Goddess that everything wouldn't go like that.

Van #2

U33 was unconscious, a 6mm bullet had penetrated his torso, barely missing several vital areas. The bullet had completely went through and lodged itself in the other side of the Agent's suit. Coagulants and painkillers were already being administered by a GP Medic. Things just went to hell in a guided missile...

(I'm sorta lost)

(I'm sorta lost)

OOC: The confrontation between me and GWO happened an HOUR BEFORE, therefore its not with the timeline. We just established HOW he got involved, from there its freeform fun! Also, don't worry, Thomas isn't shot yet! Go ahead and reply when you feel the need to.

The vehicle was nearing the coast by now, the smell of water came through the open window on Drake's passenger side. No cars passed them whatsoever, it was like the entire road was dead. Caster shook Thomas' hand firmly, smiling widely at Thomas' question. He nodded, "Anagonia will support your party, and your nations recovery from Fascist Control." He chuckled, looking out the windshield as a blockade of military vehicles came into view. Only the headlights of Caster's vehicle exposed them, showing what looked like two M3A3 Bradley Fighting Vehicle's blocked the road. Caster gazed back at Thomas, "I can tell you now that my nation will do everything in its power to ensure that you and your compatriots survive this ordeal, as we suspect its going to get bloody. Even your military might turn against you, so we might have to arrange for a division to be on the ground here."

Drake looked over to Thomas, the first time in a long while making eye contact. He smirked, "I don't think its going to get to that point, however. More than likely a division of Soviet Troopers can handle this situation without a problem."

The vehicle came to a halt, and almost immediately all four doors were opened by heavily armed Anagonian Marines. Each person, including Caster and Thomas, were searched for weapons. Drake was left alone as he headed towards one of the Bradley's and began conversing with what looked to be a Commander. The other three Marines escorted Caster, the Driver, and Thomas to the Bradley's, separating them as Caster and Thomas were placed into one and Drake and the Driver were placed in the other. Without hesitation, the tanks drove off road and towards the coast. Behind them someone got into the black vehicle and drove it off. Inside the first Bradley, surrounded by three Marines, Caster looked to Thomas. The interior lit by a dim red light. "As you can see, your nation is so deep in despair we can easily slip a few military assets in."

Caster talked quietly with the Marine Commander for a few moments, then looked back at Thomas. "Me and you will be taken on board a ship a couple miles off the coast, there we'll start debating what we need to do to get you in power."


(also tell leistung he has permission to join if he still wants)
"Can we wait until tomorrow, I have a debate in the next few hours between Reform Fascists and I in Cornocovia, it is a vital city that could help us win the election. Right now its either going to switch between us or the reform fascist party. Getting its house leaders vote will put me ahead of the fascists."

The Bradley came to a halt, and Caster gazed at Thomas for a moment as the Marines remained silent. He looked down at his foot, pressing it on the metal floor of the Bradley and then looking back up to Thomas. "You sure? Its only going to take a few minutes. You can rest on the ship, and we'll provide a unmarked helicopter to transport you."

OOC: Don't worry Ralk, I'm just waiting for the opportune moment.

"The debate is in 3 hours, it takes almost 2 hours to travel from Barkanos all the way to cornocovia by bullet train* (plane) So I can't waste any time at all," he said trying to regain his composure. "And I still haven't even got my formal attire on," he said even though he was wearing a $4000 Ganovina suit, a gift from the Ganovina house located in Tzualvia.



(*the bullet train goes almost 890 mph in ralkovia. It is also built with a pressurizing device and is kept in a special anti-gravity tubes[This is PMT tech so if we want to do pmt then its train if MT by plane]. It connects Barkanos to Tzualvia, Traskov, Penada, Cornocovia. While the price of digging the passage would have reached into hundreds of billions if not trillions since the distance between Barkanos and the clostest city Tzualvia is almost 200 miles. Ralkovia drilled into a dried up underground river that lead from the mouth of the Taeon river to Traskov then to Tzualvia before leading to Cornocovia and ending almost 30 miles away from Penada. So the cost was cut almost in half.)

"Don't worry, we have replacement suits for you. And we'll get you there on time." Caster gave the order, and the Bradley opened its back hatch and he guided Thomas out. Before them was a black hawk helicopter, already running, side hatch open with a Marine waiting for them. Caster looked to Thomas, "We don't have much time ourselves, so when we finish here you'll be taken to your city with Drake as your armed support. Don't worry, we got refreshments and on the way you can take a nap." He gently shoved Thomas towards the helicopter, "Come along. I don't have all week to wait for you. We have many guests that want to meet you."

OOC: Bbl after a movie.

"Uh sure," he said hopping a board the helicopter. He knew how to get on and stay stabilized on a blackhawk which wouldn't be normal for anyone who had never been on a blackhawk before.

(Just so you know washington has a bit of a dark history. He has hidden it away and destroyed all files on it though)

The Black Hawk throttled up and lifted from the ground, visible from the outside port windows one could see the ocean lit by the moon. It was about a twenty-five minute flight towards the LHD Class Light Carrier, whereupon the Black Hawk landed and Caster led Thomas onto the deck and towards the conning tower. There, he led him towards the bridges briefing room which was lit by clear light, so everything was visible. Caster stood towards the far wall, nearby what appeared to be the Captain of the vessel and some of his crew. At the other corner was some foreign soldiers, which Caster motioned towards.

"Here is a few of the friends I'd like to Introduce you to, they'll be assisting Anagonia on the ground during your transitional process."

OOC: Leistung, this is your intro!

A tall, somewhat gangly man walked forward, extending his hand towards Washington. Four other men stood behind him, leaning nonchalantly against the bulkhead wall of the bridge.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Washington," he said, saluting. "Sergeant Baecker of the Leistungi special forces, and these men here constitute Fire Team 04." He motioned towards the other four men who each saluted. "We've got three more fire teams below deck; twenty men altogether."

Washington seemed slightly confused, and shook the man's hand warily. The look on his face was unmistakable to the special forces men who had encountered hundreds of civilians in their careers--why are you here?

"Our primary mission is to protect you, Mr. Washington, and ensure that the transition to democracy is smooth for Ralkovia. As you well know, your former allies, the IFA--" he paused for a moment, making a barely noticeable obscene gesture before continuing. "--will most definitely not appreciate Ralkovia departing from fascism."

OOC: I hate introduction posts...

"ahh," he nodded, his phone began to buzz and he answered it. "Tara Young, the national leader just said that she would not be able to make it to the debates. She just sold her home and is trying to book a flight to the GWO currently. Thats either extremely good or extremely bad," he said rubbing his chin. "IFA probably already has operatives, Penada has a small amount of GWO troops in it(Just say there are GWO). I wouldn't be surprised if their wasn't a sniper waiting for my flight to arrive."

OOC: GWO do you have my agent in captivity?

Caster nodded, "Something we already assumed to be a possibility, which is why we insisted you come here." He chuckled, "We can't have our only hope for a Democratic Ralkovia killed by extremists fascists, now can we?"

Drake looked over at the change of events, merely shrugging. "She's running in fear, probably."

Caster nodded at Drake's pine of opinion, "I agree. However that doesn't replace our joint mission here. We are to ensure Ralkovia is purged of any possible Fascist threat. Therefore we need some advice on how to do it in a subtle fashion." He gazed firmly at Thomas, "As your nations new leader, what would you assume to be the best way we ensure your new governments survival? We don't want to start an international incident here, so were trying to keep it down low."

"Most likely, I would probably secure the capital with national guard as I am shown to be the winner. Then I would take steps to stabilize the transition," he said like he was reading it off a card.

Caster nodded, "Thats good for you, but your military is a joke with all due respect." He shrugged, "More than likely we can consider that some if not all of your military is supporting a fascist regime, and in that we can't take chance." He raised a finger, "How about we replace some of your forces with our Joint Forces, disguising them in Ralkovian Uniforms with training on Ralkovian traditions to boot?"

"That would be fine with me, yes I understand that the military is rather corrupt right now. My plan is to give most of the generals the axe(not the off with your head but the you're fired axe) and then replace them with rather brilliant officers who are neutral or support a moderate view of politics."

"Sounds good so far," Caster replied. He gazed down at his PDA as he retrieved it from his pocket, smiling, looking back at Thomas. "Anyway, how many ground forces would you support in your nation? And, if possible, would you allow an Anagonian/Leistungi Joint Military Naval Air Base to be built within your borders?"

"Well I'm decreasing military spending to about 4 trillion and the national military will be down graded to about 6 million in the army, 7 million in the navy, 2 million in the coast guard, 3 million in the marines, 1 million in the air force, and 12 million in the Colonial Guard. I could under my plan fit in up to 1 million of your forces. I would be willing to have any amount of joint military bases but funding for them would have to come from your countries yourself, the military is already shouting about how I would kill off are capabilities to respond to threats so I don't need them screaming and jumping around on how they are missing funds. I'm betting these generals are going to be hiring many accountants to keep track of all their funds."

"I think we can do that." Caster nodded, "And any bases we construct are usually jointly funded or primarily funded by Anagonia. So, it'll be a breeze."

He thought for a moment, "Any other concerns?"

"Nothing much," he said."However, I'm going to talk to the community candidate."

OOC Info: Leistung, whenever you get ready, you can reply to the past comments. Then we'll go forward. Thanks!

OOC: Yeah, nothing was really addressed to me, so I was a bit confused as to what I should say. I'll be much more active once we get off the ship and back to the Ralkovian mainland.

He nodded,"So when can I expect your forces to be landed?"

Caster smirked, "They are already here, with this ship." He chuckled, "But as for actual forces I would assume in a months time frame. Until then, the Navy and Marines would take temporary custody of protecting your Nation." He looked to the Leistungi's and around the briefing room, then back at Thomas. Caster clasped his hands together, "So where are we transporting you again?"

"To traskov its where the Communist headquarters on the western seaboard are located," he said.

"Very good," Caster smirked. "I believe we'll use the same Blackhawk Helicopter for transporting your there. Is there an airport? Anywhere we need to look out for?"

"Nope Traskov has been the Window of the west and is a leftist supporter."
(its like my california)

((OOC: Damn it, had to get new internet service.

Anyways, for better RP's sake, your Agent is in GWO captivity, Anagonia.

OOC: Sorry about not posting! And thanks GWO, I'll let you start the post and we'll continue from there with your story line.

IC:

12:59 AM

Caster smiled warmly, nodding to everyone present as Drake, Thomas and he were all suddenly on the deck of the LHD Carrier. The Black Hawk before them, ready to fly as usual, Caster assisted Thomas in getting on board before closing the side door and noticing Drake take his harness seat. Besides the pilot and co-pilot, only a few marines of Joint nationality were present to guard the trio as the Black Hawk lifted off and started on its venture westwards towards Traskov with due speed.

Caster gazed back at Thomas after a long silence, "What do you plan on speaking about anyway?"

"Well it seems the community candidate is willing to give me his votes, he has seen that their is no way they can win and would rather give us the votes then witness the fascists getting re-elected"

"That is good," Caster said while gazing out the door's port window, "I suppose you know this individual personally and expect him not to try to kill you?"

"I know him well yes but he would try to kill me if it would benefit him. Right now though he is needing me."

Drake nodded, "One less person to kill is always a good sign of a better future." Caster grinned towards Drake's direction, gazing back at Thomas. "I suppose there are hotels to stay for the night? We should be there within the hour I hope."

"Yes, the Yangi Hotel is probably a liberty party haven in the city, thats where we will stay. Plus it will serve to raise enthusiasm in the region about the liberty party."

Drake nodded in approval. Seeing that, Caster smiled. "We can work with that. I suppose we will form watches, with either me or Drake going first." He nodded his head towards Thomas, "Remember we got to know where your at at all times, alright?"

Abandoned Building, Raskovia

The Anagonian Agent would wake up to find a black bag over his head, clearly put there by whomever his captors were. (Bit of a godmod, I know, but I think we can say that he's not going to get out without being severely maimed) The room was cold, and the floor was bare cement. A light could be seen hanging from the ceiling through the bag, gently swinging.

Then suddenly the bag came off. A GP Operative and three S.T.F. Agents were standing in the room. A tall mirror sat, angled so Lion would be able to see himself. He was strapped down with zipties and leather weapons slings. "Hello, good sire. I presume you may already guess who we are. You shot one of us, you know."

"Anyways, I'll cut to the chase. Cooperate, and we won't hurt you. You'll be transported to a standard prison facility within our nation. If you refuse to cooperate, you'll be the sorriest piece of shit to ever set foot of God's green Earth. Do you understand?

Abandoned Building, Raskovia

Agent Lion woke up to darkness, immediately knowing that a sack had been placed over his head. His senses came to a moment later, his hands tied behind a chair. He could feel the floor, realizing his shoe's had been taken off. He could feel his clothes still, but through them he felt coldness of the room. He supposed he was surrounded by either a brick or concrete walls and floor. He could hear the breathing of some three to four individuals around him, the soft creaking of some small structure before him. The bag then taken off, his appearance clear in the mirror.

He was dark skinned, his raven-black hair in tangles. His clothes were ragged, parts with blood from previous wounds taken possibly earlier in the day or yesterday depending on his captivity. He tried to finger whatever snared his hands together, training kicking in as his mind was placed elsewhere. He looked up slowly, an emotionless expression and face as he noted his captor's. He didn't know who they were, just that they were enemies. More than likely, by what the chief captor was saying, he was going to die anyway. Of course he wouldn't tell them anything.

In return for silence, he gently tried to raise one leg to see if it was strapped to the chair too. He refused to respond, rather looking back down as if he didn't understand, or didn't care.

Abandoned Building, Raskovia

"Silence doesn't help you in these situations. However, we'll have plenty time to convince you to speak, now won't we?"

A cart against one of the walls was moved towards Lion, just out of reach. A white tablecloth of sorts covered up whatever was on the cart. Then, the cloth was pulled aside. Power drills, building rods, knives, needles, crowbars; the cart looked like a home made weapons shop. A Bunsen burner had been turned on to heat to tools up.

"So, we wish to know one thing firstly; who are you?"

One of the men began to heat up the bit on the power drill while another grabbed the crowbar.

Lion continued to look down. His situation was hopeless at best. The most he could do was remain silent, or kill himself. His legs were tied, as well as his arms, and more than likely he would die a horrible death either way. He raised his head slowly, looking straight into the eyes of the GP Operative.

"I don't think you want to do that."

"Want to do what? Make you talk? Take out his knees!"

The Agent with the crowbar wound up the weapon before bringing the sharp end down into Lion's knee before pulling out his kneecap. The other man had finished heating the drill bit, which was glowing bright orange by now...

Lion screamed in pain, thrashing against his restraints, the chair rocking on the concrete floor. He breathed heavily, looking at his knee bleeding profusely. Seeing but an opening for flesh now.

"You will...never...get...it."

"We will, otherwise you'll die."

The man with the power drill began driving the searing hot drill in the other kneecap, cauterizing, drilling, and burning into the flesh and bone at the same time while giggling behind his gas mask. "Why, you scream so beautifully!"

(lame!!!! Gwo i expected something better and more creative)

Lion shook violently again, the pain unbearable as he screamed bloody murder. He tried to break the bonds of restraint, but couldn't. Now with no legs, he was practically useless as a fighting machine. Blood dripped from his mouth as he sagged forward.

"N-...Never."

( My interrogations are brutal and creative but fun......well at least for me)

((OOC: I'm multitasking at the same time, Ralk; besides, to torture someone, you start off with the lesser stuff before you go full-force.))

"God damn it, you will!" shouted the GP Operative, striking Lion across the face with his baton. "Next we'll take your ability to reproduce, and I can assure you, it will not be pleasant!"

One of the Agents placed a wood block between the now gutted knees of Lion, preparing for the next part of the session.

((OOC: lolpartofMiserybyStephenKinglololomgwtfbbqsauce))

"I'm just here to..."

He gagged, coughing up blood. Unable to wipe his mouth, the blood streamed into his bloody lap. He gurgled in pain, cringing, then looked weakly up at the Operative.

"I'm just here to teach you bastards a lesson."

(Why waste time, you just get down to the nitty gritty. See this is why the death guard surpassed all others.)

"And what might that be, Herr?" continued the GP Operative, holding off the Agent (Who was now equipped with a hammer that sported both a flat head and a rounded head.)

((OOC: Because you don't want the person dying before they have a chance to reconsider.))

(Thats not how I do it. I use the grand old ralkovian way)

"That Anagonians are free because of my Sacrifice today!"

He spit blood on the Operatives face.

The blood ran down the black viewing pane (Hiding the AGMOED cameras) of the GP Operative's gas mask.

"Well, that's all we need to know of your identity. In addition, that answers the question of who you work for. Now, we need to know what Anagonia is doing in Ralkovia. Answer me this, and you're closer to freedom."

"I was wondering the same question about you, actually."

He grinned, realizing his pain had tampered with his sanity. It didn't matter that the nationality was made known, for all they knew he could be the only one. If anything, he could continue to make them believe Anagonia knew their identity. The train of thought came to a conclusion, and he was glad he had his brain still.

He coughed up more blood before continuing, "Might as well spill the beans to your Comrades there...you know why I'm here..."

"No, actually, we don't, Herr."

The GP Operative was standing fully upright a couple of feet in front of Lion. He was looking down at him. Though his face was completely concealed, he seemed to have character and identity within him, which was something that usually vanished when one put a mask on.

"And I do shun to think that you wouldn't recognize some of our uniforms; I mean, the organization is printed clearly on the suit."

For the GP Operatives, identification was possible via the upper right sleeve, where a patch bore the emblem of the Gedanke-Polizei, and the name of the organization printed above it in a sort of New York Police layout. With the S.T.F. Agents, "S.T.F." or "S.T.K." was printed in white on the fronts and backs of their cuirasses.

"So, why is Anagonia interfering with Ralkovia's government?"

OOC: Mind you, he's bluffing here.

IC:

"I don't know who you are, or why your here. All I know is that your another nation that wants to die." He coughed again, looking at their uniforms closely. "Anagonia has business wherever it desires business, especially when this was supposed to be a trap for your team."

He lowered his gaze, "Guess our contacts never do their jobs."

The Operative pretended to not hear the part about the trap.

"That doesn't answer my question. Answer before I have one of your testicles smashed with a hammer!"

"Go ahead," he laughed with blood streaming from his mouth, "My legacy will live on!"

"Damn it, this is fucking useless. I give up. Have your fun," quoth the Operative to the Agents. The Agents dropped their tools, threw off their helmets and AGMOEDs, then proceeded to essentially tackle Lion; they were going to cannibalize him. Of course, there would be just a few more seconds for Lion to reconsider...

Lion did not. He had already accepted his fate. Nothing would make him more loyal to his cause than having himself tortured to basically reveal his Superior's directives in Ralkovia. As he was tackled, he did have a thought to save his life. But his life was not important, only the cause of Democracy in Ralkovia, and Anagonia's supervision of the new democracy until it could defend itself.

"You can torture me, kill me, even eat me alive!" Lion screamed as he fell to the floor still strapped to the chair, "But you will never stop Anagonia! Were coming for you bastards! Were coming for you!"

"It appears we're both headed for Hell, Herr."

With that, the Agents began ripping into the man's flesh, while one felt into the pockets to make sure they wouldn't damage anything they may have overlooked after taking Lion into custody. The sounds were absolutely sickening, and coupled with the smell and sight, most people would be vomiting until their stomach came out.

((OOC: Does Lion have a cell phone/PDA on him?))

OOC: GWO, Ralk, i dont suppose you would be willing to let me (as the AL) in on this?

OOC: Yea, he has a cell phone and PDA on him. If you hack it right, you'd contact a military official. *wink* And I don't mind Sumguy entering, for my two cents.

(GWO, contacting the vice presidential candidate might be your next step. He's not a very good person....not at all.)

OOC: GWO, Ralk, i dont suppose you would be willing to let me (as the AL) in on this?

(whats an AL? but yeah I'm down with it)

(GWO, contacting the vice presidential candidate might be your next step. He's not a very good person....not at all.)

((OOC: But we ICly don't actually know much about him.))

( I see. But you can make threats or something)

OOC: Oh just make something up, I'll do the rest.

(whats an AL? but yeah I'm down with it)

OOC: the AL is a huge paramilitary Christian, Muslim, and Jewish religious organization that I RP. I should have a post up by tonight.

( Okay LS. Ummm anagonia can you get on MSN)

((OOC: Well, I'd think someone would be calling Lion to check up on him...))

( Okay LS. Ummm anagonia can you get on MSN)

OOC: Done.

IC:

Colonel Daniel Yat's was supervisor for the Ralkovian Intelligence Campaign, wherein his agents under his command were to ensure that the safety of the Democratic Regime was to be held. However, one of his agents hadn't reported in for twenty-four hours. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but as the Agent was supposed to be not doing any specific assignment this worried Daniel. Against protocol he contacts Lions PDA, picking up his own and dialing out on a secure line that couldn't be traced.

Abandoned Building, Raskovia

The Agents had just impaled Lion's head on their Sergeant's communications spike when his PDA rang. The Agents weren't paying attention, as they were too busy with their macabre ritual of cannibalism. However, the Operative that conducted the session was. He picked up the PDA (Which had a bit of blood on it), took off his gas mask, and answered. He waited for the caller to start speaking.

Colonel Yat expected silence, as was the usual, and initiated the conversation with the normal military lingo.

"Charlie Oscar Sierra, Lion?"

The GP Operative thought for a moment. "COS? I don't have a clue as to what they could be saying..."

So instead of try to fake it, the Operative told the truth. "Hmm, try Delta Echo Charlie Alpha Papa Indigo Tango Alpha Tango Indigo Oscar November," the Operative waited for a response.

Epic. Can i make that my signature?

OOC: LMAOROFL!

IC:

For a moment there he sat there is disbelief, then slowly spoke. "Who the hell is this?"

(Gotta go for now. Be on later)

For a moment there he sat there is disbelief, then slowly spoke. "Who the hell is this?"

"I'm the one who's going to find you, your little henchmen, and kick all of your asses,"

A digitized voice came from the background, one of the S.T.F. Agents (Who wasn't taking part in the cannibalism, therefore still was wearing his gas mask) was speaking up. "Wer ist das?" he inquired (German, not E.G.I.), before the sound of another splatter of Lion's blood against the floor.

"That's right, 'Lion' here lost his head, but we put his body to good use feeding a few hungry mouths. Trust me, I WILL find you, and we WILL beat the living shit out of you. Comprendere?"