NationStates Jolt Archive

From: Simon Dwyer MP, Prime Minister of Novus Prosperitas
To: The Right Honourable Anthony Wittrock PC, Prime Minister of Pacifica
Subject: Congratulations

Dear Sir,

It is with warm greetings and sincere best wishes that I, on behalf of my government and the people of Novus Prosperitas congratulate you on your re-election to office. I look forward to maintaining, and where possible, strengthening the productive partnership that my predecessor built with you.

Pacifica and Novus Prosperitas are two nations which enjoy a great deal of commonality. The historical, political and cultural similarities that exist between our respective states have been just as crucial as the modern technological revolution in forging a unique bond that knows no geographical boundaries. In a world torn by conflict and in an age where new and ever more frightening threats to humanity seem to arise by the day, it is comforting to know that there are those who share our fears, our values and our aspirations. The Prosperitan-Pacifican alliance must endure.

With this in mind, I wish to extend to you an invitation to visit Novus Prosperitas so that we may celebrate the past and plan for the future.

Yours faithfully,

Simon Dwyer

ooc: this thread contains offensive language and violent scenes.

John Blanchette Memorial International
Securitas, Novus Prosperitas

The Pacifican C-110 jetliner taxied on the runway before halting to a complete stop. The Prosperitan National Police Service had secured the landing zone with assistance from Diplomatic Protection Unit and Special Branch. Airport stairs sealed to the fuselage. A dozen uniformed police officers stood at elbows length from each other for crowd control while the door hatch opened.

Two suited men walked down a few steps at shoulder’s length before stopping on the fifth top step. They radioed in that the area has been secured by the Prosperitan National Police Service. The Prime Minister appeared in the plane’s doorway with another suited man close at guard. The Prime Minister slowly descended down behind the two men standing on the fifth step. In unison the four men walked down the stairs to the tarmac.

Prime Minister Wittrock and his personal security detail walked across the tarmac to the Land Cruiser waiting to take him to the terminal.

Out of the Land Cruiser and into the sun stepped Melissa Aurelia, the Prosperitan secretary of foreign affairs. She was a woman of average height, build and an unimposing physical stature. Wearing sunglasses and gray suit pants she walked confidently towards the disembarking Pacificans. It would not be the first time she had met Wittrock. Prosperitan-Pacifican relations had been an important aspect of the Social Democrat government's foreign policy. She extended her hand and the two posed for photographers.
"Welcome to Securitas," she said with a smile. "It is always good to see you, Prime Minister."
The security personnel around the perimeter began to disperse as the foreign secretary ushered the PM into the waiting vehicle. The procession of flashing lights and SUVs then left the airport for the drive to Parliament Buildings.

Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock nodded his head politely to the Prosperitan Foreign Secretary, “Thank you for hospitality in welcoming me to your remarkable country, Ms. Aurelia. The pleasure for our paths to meet once again is mine.”

The two walked to the vehicle waiting. He turned his head to look at her, “Are we going to see much of the Prosperitan countryside as you’ve told me much about it in our discussions in Georgetown?”

She laughed lightly and responded: "I understand that the Prime Minister has something along those lines in mind. He is certainly eager to show you true Prosperitan hospitality."

Although he had not met Wittrock personally at Blanchette, he was waiting on the steps of Parliament to officially receive the Pacifician leader. A red carpet had been rolled out and an honour guard stood ready for inspection, complete with a brass band. The Ceremonial Guards wore gray tunics and red berets. Their rifles were poised at their sides.

Dwyer looked down at his watch before casting a weary gazed across the forecourt. The troublesome media had been forced to remain behind steel crowd control barricades set up on the knoll nearby, a reasonable distance from the carpet. A few protestors were also making their presence felt nearby. Outraged by Dwyer's continued support for the embattled Social Democrat leader, right-wing activists refused to let the issue die. The new Prime Minister could take some solace, however. He was slowly succeeding in his efforts to distract the national press and assert himslef as a serious leader. The focus, for now at least, was back on foreign policy.

As the motorcade approached, Simon Dwyer drew in a deep breath.

A plainly clothed officer of the Diplomatic Protection Unit (DPU) - a section of the National Police Service's Special Branch assigned to oversee the security of foreign dignitaries - promptly walked up to the Land Cruiser and opened Wittrock's door.

President Anthony Wittrock slowly stepped out of the Land Cruiser to build up suspense. He was the first Pacifican leader to step onto Prosperitan soil in over fifty-two years. He was honoured to have the opportunity to rebuild Pacifica’s relationship with Novus Prosperita once again.

He was closely followed by his three Pacifican Constabulary Protective Security Service bodyguards up the steps to the Prosperitan Parliament buildings. They stopped midway giving Prime Minister Wittrock room for his ascension up the steps to the waiting Prosperitan Prime Minister.

He respectively stood on the lower step and in accordance to Pacifican protocol he’s to address Prime Minister Simon Dwyer, “To the Prime Minister of Novus Prosperitas. I come upon your request, a summoning of my audience to speak on the Second Federation of Pacifica’s behalf in my officially capacity as Head of Government and if warranted, Chief of State to discuss the bilateral affairs between our two great and diverse countries. ”

Dwyer, beaming proudly, stepped forward and greeted the Pacifican leader. A former athlete, he was tall and lean.

"I humbly accept your offer," Prime Minister Dwyer declared. The two men shook hands and posed for a lone government photographer.

"Shall we then?" he said over the beat of the Pacifican national anthem. Together they moved to inspect the neatly formed honour guard. After the inspection, the two leaders walked side by side up the wide steps of Parliament House, beneath a magnificent classical colonnade and portico that added much to the majesty of the century old structure. Once through the vestibule, Dwyer and his guest were met by an assembly of Cabinet ministers. First to be introduced was the deputy prime minister and attorney-general, Richard Aldington. A tall, thin man with bushy gray hair he was softly spoken.
"A pleasure, Prime Minister." He bowed.

***

William Kingsley paced back and forth, making no effort to conceal his agitation. His lawyer and trusted friend, Norman Maxwell, sat in a leather bound chair in a corner of the office that overlooked the Central Business District. Little attention was paid to the activity bellow.
"They think they can sink me... Well, we'll see about that." Kingsley spat. Finally stopping in his tracks beside a low table he bent over to pour another glass of scotch whisky.
"Why have those buffoons be silent?" He demanded.
Maxwell shrugged, uncertain of the answer. "Perhaps it is a sign the police haven't got anything on us." He took a puff of his cigar.
"They're trying to buy time, you suppose? Bastards!"
Their conversation was interrupted by a buzz. Kingsley marched back to his desk and hit the intercom.

***

Several kilometres from Parliament in a quiet residential suburb of the capital was a leafy street named Amicitia Drive that was home to a number of nations' diplomatic missions, including the Pacifican embassy. As noon passed and the formalities at Parliament began to wind down, a white delivery truck turned onto Amicitia Drive and into the driveway of Pacifica House.

Prosperitan Parliament House
Securitas, Novus Prosperitas

Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock shook Mr. Aldington’s hand, “Thank you Mr. Aldington. It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to those everlasting conference calls.”

Aldington pragmatically replied, "Ah, yes indeed. And I hope this old face isn't too much of a let down."

“Of course not Mr. Aldington – it’s a face of character – it’s been burnt to my memory forever. I’m good with faces,” Wittrock wittingly responded and carried down the cabinet ministers. He appreciated seeing Ms. Melissa Aurelia who he had gotten to know over a series of meetings in Georgetown, “Nice to see you again Ms. Aurelia.”

“Likewise Mr. Prime Minister – welcome to Novus Prosperitas,” Aurelia replied.

“Thank you,” Wittrock smiled at Ms. Aurelia as he walked with Prime Minister Simon Dwyer to their next designated area at Parliament House.

Pacifica House (Embassy)
Securitas, Novus Prosperitas

Gunnery Sergeant Ben Daniels and Sergeant Alana Morrow approached the white delivery truck that brought the Embassy office supplies, groceries and miscellaneous day-to-day stationeries for the personnel on site. The Gunnery Sergeant carried a clipboard walking up to the window, “Please your name and inventory list.”

Sergeant Daniels stood in front of the vehicle holding onto her Heckler & Koch MP5K-PDW on a sling around her right shoulder.

William Kingsley’s Constituency Office
Somerton, Novus Prosperitas

“Mr. K?” the unidentified monotone voice came on the line.

The gruff-looking driver of the truck poked his head out of the cab and eyed Daniels.
"Adonis Baltasar," he muttered. "Here." The driver handed the Gunnery Sergeant an invoice. "I'm new to this route."
The invoice listed a week's supply of fresh fruit and vegetables.

***

Kingsley raised an eyebrow while Maxwell leapt to his feet. "Who the hell is this?" The former Prime Minister demanded.

“Relax Mr. Prime Minister – I’m the Good Samaritan. I just wanted to give you heads up that the police will be arriving on your location within twenty-five minutes from… now.”

***

The Gunnery Sergeant reviewed the information and prepared his checklist, “Please get out of the truck Mr. Baltasar and open the rear door for inspection purposes.”

He nodded his head to the Sergeant who continued to hold her weapon in the ready position. She nodded back to him.

***

Prime Ministers Simon Dwyer and Anthony Wittrock stepped off an elevator. Prime Minister Dwyer stepped off the elevator, "Welcome to my abode Mr. Wittrock."

The driver sighed but nonetheless complied with Daniels' request. Adonis opened the door and leapt down to the ground.
"There you go. Happy? Jesus Christ! You do realise that you are not the only clients on my list?"
As he grumbled and cursed, Adonis made his way around the truck. When he approached the rear he paused.
"Here you go." He roughly opened the back compartment and snickered. "Happy, mate?"

***

The two national leaders paced the floor of Prime Minister Dwyer's comfortable parliamentary suite. In his office, he invited Wittrock to take a seat on one of the several lounge chairs situated around a coffee table.
"May I interest you in a drink, my friend?"

The Gunnery Sergeant studied the driver’s attitude with suspicion, “You do realize Mr. Baltasar – we’re not like most of your “other clients”. This is Pacifica House. The Pacifican Diplomatic Mission to Novus Prosperitas.”

He looked at the contents in the back of the truck and confirmed that the stuff was all there, “You’re clear to enter. Next time – keep your cool.”

***

Wittrock sat down into the lounge chair on the left, “Drink? Yes please, an ice tea with a piece of lemon.”

***

“Let’s say Mr. Prime Minister – that I work for some high valuable individuals who don’t want to see you incarcerated – they believe in your innocence. All the best, Mr. Prime Minister.”

"Easy there, sunshine." Maxwell, trying to regain control of their situation, attempted to reassure his friend. "It was undoubtedly a prank. We'll get it traced... And..."
Kingsley shook his head . "That was no prank. They're coming for me." He slowly turned to Maxwell and cast a steely gaze into the other man's eyes. "But I'll be damned if this is going to sink me!"

***

Once the guards were satisfied, Adonis got back in the cab and drove his truck through the gates. Around the back was a small depot where cargo such as that which the truck was carrying was unloaded. Here, Adonis slammed on the breaks. Getting out of the cab again, he nodded to embassy staff.
"Pleasant day, is it not?" He mused while opening the rear. No sooner had he opened the back of the truck, three darkly-clad figures leapt out of the container in quick succession. Armed with assault rifles, they barked orders at startled staff to get on the ground.
"If anybody moves we will kill you!" Adonis reached for a pistol tucked behind his belt. Grabbing the nearest Pacifican, he placed his gun firmly to the woman's head. "For God's sake, do as we say!"

***

Dwyer slowly poured two cups of tea and handed one to Wittrock on a small plate. Returning to his seat, he reached for a table spoon and stirred. So far the visit had gone without a hitch and the Prosperitan prime minister was pleased to finally be sitting down, one to one, face to face with his Pacifican counterpart. There were several issues he had intendaed to raise, but out of politeness he decided to give Wittrock an opportunity to set the agenda of their private meeting.
"I wonder, is there anything in particular you would like to touch on first?"

The Sergeants at the front gate witnessed some of the commotion at the supply depot. He put his hand to his ear, “Calling all callsigns. We have a security breach – four unidentified gunmen at supply depot. Please proceed. The House is under lockdown.”

***

“I would first like to comment on your country’s hospitality – it’s been superb, thank you Prime Minister. The issue, I first issue I’d like to raise is trade. Will your government be open to a free trade deal with Pacifica?" The Prime Minister asked and took a sip of his tea.

Adonis noticed the flurry of activity at the gates and instinctively motioned to the other three men to watch their backs. He then fixed his gaze on the Gunnery Sergeant in the distance - the same Gunnery Sergeant who had been so pedantic with the checkpoint.
"Bastard," he muttered. Suddenly a grating scream pierced his ears. He tightened his hold of the woman hostage. "Call off your men and stand down!" Adonis yelled out to Daniels. "Or we blow her - and this place - to hell!"

Gunnery Sergeant Daniels refused to lower his weapon, “My mandate is not to negotiate. My mandate is to protect the people within this barrier. Mr. Baltasar – you must made a mistake in placing a innocent woman in your crosshairs. Please lower your weapon to avoid additional deprecations against you and your team.”

A black SUV made a sudden and dangerous turn onto Amicitia Drive, sounded by the sound of screeching tires. The vehicle then accelerated at an alarming rate. The distracted sentries would have little time to react as the car took another precarious turn, this time into the driveway and through the front gates. Moments later, a second followed at slower speeds. The vehicles slammed on their brakes outside the embassy and the passenger doors swung open. A further seven assailants jumped out, their automatic rifles spraying bullets at the Pacifican guards. Four burst into the lobby and were fired upon by a lone soldier crouched behind the reception desk. Embassy staff lay on the floor terrified. One of the men was hit in the shoulder as he dashed inside. His attacker, however, was quickly disabled with one shot through the chest.
"Fuck!" He exclaimed, clutching the wound. "There is no time to stop," he shouted to his comrades.
"Which way!?!" One of the others demanded, seeming to brush aside his fallen accomplice. He shook with excitement and trepidation.
"Down here, down here!"

Meanwhile, outside, Adonis released the woman from his clutches and ordered his team to round up the rest of the staff on the main level. He and the three initial attackers roamed across the lawn as the second group forced its way through a back door.
"Get here now!" A distant voice boomed amid much paniced screaming. "Or I will shoot you!"
"Nobody will shoot anybody!" Adonis snapped. "Until I say so..." He motioned to his men to follow him inside.

Corporal Francis St. Pierre elbowed the sleeping Private Derrick Baum in the top bunk.

“What?” Private Baum asked, “What was that for?”

“Security has been compromised Private,” Corporal St. Pierre answered.

“Com-prom-ised? Is … this a… drill Corporal?” Private Baum jumped to the deck.

“This is the real thing,” Corporal St. Pierre answered.

“Get into uniform Private. Corporal – get your ass in gear,” Sergeant Major Dumont barked after coming around the corner, “We’re Highlanders. Not those good for nothing Army brats.”

“Yes Sergeant Major sir,” the two men replied.

The rest of the hostages were now rounded up in the lobby - there were ten in total. Adonis knew there would be more, including the Pacifican ambassador himself, upstairs. There was also the matter of the off-duty guards. He pointed to his fallen man, slumped against the wall.
"For God's sake, see to him," he snapped at one of the others. His attention then switched to the dead Pacifican behind the reception desk.

"There it is..." The leader of the first group muttered. They kept their rifles raised. The security door in front of them required a keycard - the leader had snatched one from the dead guard's belt in lobby. With a smirk, he swiped it. The electronic door unlocked and grabbed the handle, rifle in hand. As they burst into the room Private Baum and his colleagues were rushing to dress. The attackers, however, showed them no mercy.

Private Baum’ hands moved across his torso. He couldn’t believe that he was on the cold cement floor dying in a friendly and allied nation. He coughed up blood upward and splattered against his face. He built up enough strength to wipe the blood off his face. He began to feel queasy. He started wonder about the statuses of Corporal St. Pierre and the Sergeant Major.

In the corner of his eye he saw a man clenching an assault rifle, “Damn you, damn you to Hell.”

Adonis gave Sergeant Major Dumont's lifeless body a light kick and sighed. "May God be with you, " he uttered. That was the last of them. The embassy's security had now been disabled and the strike teams could now move to the next phase of their plan. Upstairs, a burly man named Balthasar Cadmus busted down the large oak doors of the ambassador's suite. The young brothers Baldo and Haliama flanked him, rifles ready.

Ben Gettler looked at the three men with a smirk on his face. "Who the hell are you three parading in my office like a couple of queers?"
Balthasar roared in anger at Gettler's flippant remark and unusual calm in the face of danger. He struck the old war hero with the butt of his rifle. The brothers rushed to restrain him.
"Stop! Stop!"
"You will show me respect!" Balthasar bellowed as Gettler winced painfully. "Understand!?!"
"Fuck you..." Gettler said under his breath. "You'll regret this!"
"Just do as I say."

The hostages in the lobby were ordered upstairs and joined a further nine, including the ambassador and three unarmed Prosperitan patrolmen privately contracted through a local firm. Two of the terrorists hauled large duffel bags which they placed on the ground.
"Wallets, IDs, watches, phones! Try anything, and I will kill you."
With guns in their faces and the threat of explosives, the hostages reluctantly complied, anxious for their ordeal to be over.
"You will find," Adonis said authoritatively, "overalls and masks in those bags. Please strip to your underwear and change. Now!"
A woman wailed, "How dare you!?!"
"Do as I bloody well say and I might spare your life! Got it?"

***

Dwyer sipped his tea and smiled. "Indeed, we pride ourselves on our hospitality, sir. Trade is a matter I would be delighted to discuss with you. It is a priority of my government that Pacifica and Novus Prosperitas further develop bilateral trade and investment. To that end, I am of the opinion that we should continue progressively towards a free trade agreement."

***

Senior Constable John Andrews Jr first mistook the distance echo of gunfire for fireworks. No doubt over-active youths were up to mischief. Returning to his patrol car after re-fuelling at a service station, he drove through the affluent suburb of Everton, occasionally slowing to survey the sky from his side window. As he approached an intersection, his car radio burst into life.
"... We have reports of a disturbance in Amicitia Drive. Reports of possible gun-fire. Patrol...respond."
Andrews reached for his transmitter. "10-4. Over"

The police car slammed to a halt metres away from the front of the Pacifican embassy compound.
"Jesus Christ!" The young police officer hurriedly reversed. By now the gunfire had stopped but bodies lay in the drive and masked men appeared on a balcony totting rifles.
"10-10! Something serious just went down... Over."

At Securitas Central Police Station, Andrews' panicked call was treated with incredulity at first. Detective Superintendent James Munro of Special Branch was called back early from lunch to respond to reports that gunmen had attacked the Pacifican embassy. Little could he have realised the magnitude of the crisis developing.
"What is it?" Munro snapped as he returned to the office.
"Superintendent, the Pacifican embassy has been attacked."
Munro raised a bushy eyebrow at the junior officer. "Is this a joke? Who would have it in for the Pacificans?"

Outside Pacifica House, the street was cordoned off from both ends, with a large number of police units now at the scene. Munro and Senior Detective Sergeant Lucius Saul arrived in an unmarked sedan.
"Who is in charge here?" Munro queried the gathering of bewildered officers.
"Sir," Andrews stepped forward. "It's all yours."
The Detective Superintendent glanced across the tarmac, up the bloodied driveway.
"Christ... Are they Pacificans... Do we know?"
"Guards, I believe. Well dead."
"OK. And, well, the gun-men? You mentioned they were masked but how many did you see?"
"I saw three. Admittedly, there are probably more inside. I heard a lot of screaming too, some shouting as well. But it was inaudible. It's all settled down now. No more gun-shots."
Munro rubbed his chin. Saul pointed to a balcony overlooking the forecourt. A French door was open and a red curtain blowing in the breeze.
"Is the media on this yet?" Munro asked.
"No, sir."
"I want all questions directed to me. Got it? Thank you, constable."
Andrews nodded and stepped aside for the moment. Munro turned to Saul.
We need to figure out how many people they've got holed up in there and what the hell it is they want."

AdferoLive Breaking News: Gunfire at Pacifican embassy

Securitas - There have been unconfirmed reports of gunfire at the Pacifican embassy compound in Securitas. AdferoLive has learnt in the last 25 minutes that police are at the scene in Amicitia Drive, Everton. No further details are available at this time.

Ambassador Benjamin Gettler shook his head no to the rest of the hostages not to pursue their captor’s demands, “The Pacifican government does not negotiate with terrorists. Don’t expect us to cave into your chaos.”

General Alfred Danforth Building, Annex D
Georgetown, Pacifican Federation

Deputy Prime Minister Lazarus Krajicek sat across the table from the Chairman of the Defence Staff Admiral John Bennett. The rest of the Defence Staff walked in from the east entrance and sat behind Admiral Bennett in their assigned seat.

The four 32” LCD HDTV televisions on the right wall were powered on. They were operating on the Cisco video conference software. Four faces appeared from right to left: National Security Advisor Mark Mosher, Solicitor General Stéphane Bellemare, Director-General Commodore Joseph Martineau of the Military Intelligence Secretariat (MIS) and the Director of the Central Security Intelligence Service (CSIS).

“The silent alarm at our embassy in Novus Prosperitas has been triggered by the Seaforth Highlanders. The terrorist have claimed the entire squad of Seaforth Highlanders assigned to protect the embassy. Within an hour of the half of the initial strike on the embassy, MIS has been able to access live feed from the Ambassador’s office,” Commodore Martineau reported.

Commodore Martineau pushed the button to show the recorded live feed from the embassy. It appeared on the 50” LCD television on left wall with the Ambassador confronting the terrorists and being hit with brute force.

Deputy Prime Minister Krajicek smiled to himself and under his breath, “Old fool.”

“What was that Mr. Deputy Prime Minister?” Commodore Martineau asked.

“The terrorists.”

“What about them sir?”

“Have they issued any demands?”

“No, we haven’t been in contact with them sir.”

Deputy Prime Minister Krajicek nodded his head, “Any recommendations in how to respond?”

“Nothing right now until we’ve assessed the situation Deputy Prime Minister,” Admiral Bennett replied.

“This government will not negotiate with terrorists gentlemen,” Krajicek send, “I want a covert operation into Securitas, Novus Prosperitas.”

“Sir you have no constitutional authority to send any military operation to a foreign nation without the support of the Prime Minister,” Admiral Bennett said firmly.

“The Prime Minister is overseas in Novus Prosperita Admiral,” Krajicek continued, “We need to act accordingly to strike these terrorists like a viper before they ever get a chance to harm the hairs of another Pacifican. I’m issuing an executive order in the Prime Minister’s absence gentlemen. To deploy Special Operational Forces Detachment Epsilon Zulu to safeguard Pacifica immediately.”

Admiral Bennett warned the Deputy Prime Minister again, “Except we don’t have the Prime Minister’s signature to go on.”

“The Prime Minister is out of the country Admiral. He can’t do a damn thing. You have your orders,” Krajicek barked.

"This is Deputy Assistant Commissioner Isatis. Get me the Operations Centre. This is an emergency. I require immediate access."
"One moment, sir."
Isatis momentarily watched a small television screen in the corner of his eye while he waited for a secure line to be opened with the Ministry of Internal Affairs' communications and crises management centre. The news was already breaking.
"I am reporting a hostage situation at Pacifica House. Two embassy guards are confirmed dead and an unspecified number of hostiles are thought to be holding up to 30 hostages. No demands have been made and no further information as to the status of the situation is available at this time."

Richard Aldington was left in no doubt at the seriousness of the situation. "Inform the Prime Minister," he calmly directed.
The attorney-general then grabbed his jacket and hurriedly left the office.

***

"And so, you see, the removal of export incentives and quantitive restrictions is..." Dwyer stopped mid-sentence and turned in his chair. There was a loud knock on the door. Puzzled and embarrassed, the Prime Minister's face lit up. He apologised to his guest.
"I suppose we should see what on earth this is about... Do come in!" He called out.
"Sir, I do apologise, but..." The young aid walked into the room and handed the Prime Minister a note. It read: "Hostage situation at Pacifica House." Dwyer gasped, "Good Lord..." He rose from the chair. "I'm afraid we must cut our meeting short. Something terrible has happened at your embassy."

Prime Minister Wittrock rose to his feet from the chair. He felt ill like he was about to hurl that something this horrific occurred during his state visit to Novus Prosperitas. He looked over at Simon Dwyer and shook his head sharply at him like he wanted to punch him in the face. For a moment the Pacifican Prime Minister brought himself together thinking of happier times in Prosperitan-Pacifican affairs. He took in a few more deep breathes, “What the hell is going on Mr. Dwyer?”

"At this point in time, my guess is as good as yours, Mr Wittrock." Dwyer led him through the Prime Minister's floor, tailed closely by his most senior advisers and aids. The building bustled with activity as telephones rang non-stop and frenzied staff ran back and forth. Dwyer's chief of staff, Ian Hughes, pointed the men to a television set placed on a desk in the centre of the room. He adjusted the volume. The words 'Breaking News' were highlighted with a red background. The remainder of the screen showed a distant shot of Pacifica House with flashing lights and armed police officers in the foreground.
"... And these shots, live from the, uh, front of the Pacifican embassy. There has been surprisingly little activity from inside the compound since the siege took place more than an hour ago. Police have cordoned off the street and it seems that specialist units are now arriving. But, again, little sign of what may be happening inside 10 Amicitia Drive. Police have scheduled a media conference for 15:30 and we will bring that to you live."
Hughes turned the volume back down. "The Committe is convening, Prime Minister."
"Right. We better get there."

"Don't lie to me Simon," Anthony looked the Prosperitan Prime Minister in the eye as he passed into the general corridor of the Prime Minister's Office. He had the prime ministerial feeling that he was being lied to. Wittrock was shocked and outraged.

He looked over at the Prosperitan Prime Minister with anger. He just wanted to knock him out cold, “How is this at all possible Prime Minister? Why was I not informed by your government about possible attack on Pacifican soil?"

Dwyer, seemingly unfazed by the barrage of questions, said: "Well, are you coming, Mr Wittrock?"
With that, they bundled into an elevator, eventually arriving at an underground carpark with a heavy presence of security personnel. A black car pulled up to meet them, followed by an SUV. Dwyer invited Wittrock to get in first.
"I assure you, we are doing everything we can to get this situation under control, and we will cooperate with your government every step of the way."
The vehicle doors slammed shut and the cars sped off towards the Ministry of Internal Affairs building.

The Pacifican Prime Minister wasn’t happy with Mr. Dwyer the slightest for dodging his questions concerning to Prosperita’s counterterrorism policies. Without a word he reluctantly got into the vehicle. He thought about the families of the two dead security guards in the compound and their final moments.

Wittrock didn’t say a word to the occupants of the vehicle. He glared out of the window at the modern concrete scenery of the Prosperitan capital. In the downtown skyline he saw the Minotaur Tower that brought back memories of peaceful and happier times in his life.

The short drive to Government Square was indeed tense. Dwyer, trying to brush off Wittrock's understandable agitation, loosened his red tie and waited for the car to stop. Government Square was situated adjacent to the entrance of Parliament House, across a long stretch of road. It was home to a group of modern office buildings positioned around a large forecourt. To the east sat the offices of the Ministry of Internal Affairs. Opposite it was the Ministry of Defence and next to it the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. The cars rolled across the forecourt and turned into another underground terminal.

A Prosperitan bodyguard opened Wittrock's door. Dwyer stepped out of the car after him, buttoning his jacket. A man wearing a gray military uniform hailed them. To his right was an older man in a naval blue uniform bearing the crest of the National Police Service.
"This is National Police Commissioner Sertorius and General de Barra," Dwyer said. "These gentlemen have been monitoring the situation since we first got word of it."

The two were led past a pair of thick security doors and into a suite of rooms containing a bank of telephone lines, computer terminals and other communications equipment. A number of senior figures in the Prosperitan government were gathered around a table amidst unusual calm. Deputy Prime Minister and Attorney-General Richard Aldington rose to greet Dwyer and Wittrock. The others around the table followed suit. Standing uneasily next to Aldington was Melissa Aurelia.

***

"Would somebody tell these cameras to piss off?" Munro moaned. Television news crews and other representatives of the national and international media were taking all manner of steps to ensure they had a clear view of the goings on outside Pacifica House. Much to Munro's irritation, journalists camped on the street behind the police cordons and photographers climbed trees or snuck on to neighbouring properties, while news helicopters circled overhead.
Saul poked his head out of the car. "We traced the plates. Surprise, surprise. They're hire cars."
"Great. We can get some names."

Adonis pointed to a security camera and spat in the ambassador's face. Gettler was now gagged and bound. The rest of the hostages - 22 in total - cowered in another part of the upstairs floor. Four of their captors paced menacingly back and forth.
"Those things were supposed to be disabled, you idiot!" Adonis yelled at Balthasar.
"Alright! Alright! I thought someone would have shot them out! Why must I do everything? They are switched off now... So why worry?"
Adonis regained his composure. "Right. It is time to move to the next phase." He grabbed Gettler by the arm and forced him up.
"Come."
The ambassador was marched to the balcony overlooking the street. In plain view of the police and media below, Adonis (now wearing a mask) thrust Gettler forward; pistol to the back of his head.

"Jesus!" Munro grabbed a megaphone. "This is the Police. We are prepared to open a line of communication with you. Do not shoot."

After a few more seconds out in the open, Adonis returned inside and threw Gettler against a wall.
"Next time I will shoot you. For all the world to see."
He then took out a card from his pocket and read a phone number.
"Yes - get me the police."

The Pacifican Prime Minister calmed down after seeing a familiar face in the secured room situated in the Prosperitan Government Square. He wasn’t thrilled about his closeness to Prime Minister Simon Dwyer who was partial to blame for the ongoing hostage crisis at Pacifica House. Armed Prosperitan terrorists with Pacifican nationals as gamble pieces. He looked over at the Attorney General Mr. Aldington, “Anything to report Mr. Aldington? Your Prime Minister wouldn’t give me a clear and concise answer back up at Government House.”

***

A black Cadillac STS quickly entered into the police motorcade outside of Pacifica House. Staff Sergeant Robert Desmarais stepped out of the driver’s seat, “Who’s in command? What’s going on?”

***

Ambassador Gettler was thrown down onto the floor beside two of his support staff. He whispered to assure them, “Help is coming. I know it is, keep the faith. Alright?”

Munro and Saul approached the black Cadillac. They looked Desmarais over.
"I'm Detective Superintendent Munro, Special Branch. We've got a hostage situation here. And you are?"

Before they could finish their introductions, an officer interrupted. "HQ is
on the line, sir!"

***

President Adeodatus Waterhouse was holidaying in the resort town of Solis Lux, several kilometres south-east of Novus Prosperitas' second-largest city, when news of the situation in Securitas first reached him. The president had spent the morning sailing in the calm waters off his private compound. On shore, an urgent phone call from Government House was received and members of the president’s security detail set out in a small boat to meet the yacht.
"Your Excellency!" The senior police officer assigned to oversee the president’s personal protection clambered up a ladder onto the main deck. The topless Waterhouse lifted his sunglasses above his head and rose from the reclining chair he had been resting in. His bikini-clad wife lay beside him.
"Sir, there are matters that require your attention."
Sienna Waterhouse moaned, "But you are on holiday."
"Yes. What could it be?" Waterhouse, seemingly uninterested, returned to his seat.
"The Prime Minister wishes to brief you on the situation." He handed him a satellite phone reserved for emergencies.

Before the Civil Contingencies Committee convened, Dwyer made himself available to inform the Vice President of the hostage drama, who in turn had recommended briefing the vacationing head of state.
"Isn’t that his role?" Dwyer complained.
"Mr President, pardon the interruption of your holiday. We would not normally trouble you but this is a rather… Unique, and urgent matter. It is with regret that I inform you that the Pacifican embassy in Securitas has come under attack and up to 30 people are being held captive there. We have yet to establish who is behind this act of terrorism or what their motives and demands might be. I will keep you informed."
Waterhouse gasped. "Good lord. Am I in any danger?"
A brief silence ensued. Dwyer, uncertain of how to proceed, waffled. "I don’t believe there is any specific threat to your safety at this time, Mr President. However, the NPS, I am sure, will be taking extra precautions."
"Very well then… Thank you, Prime Minister. I will monitor the situation. Please keep me informed."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Dwyer hung up and turned to the others. "Let us begin."

"They have opened a line of communication with us," Police Commissioner Sertorius declared, a phone to his ear. "They have identified themselves as Free Asta."
Dwyer's face turned pale and an eerie silence fell upon the room. The realisation that they were dealing with Prosperitan separatists now hit.

“I’m Staff Sergeant Robert Desmarais, Seaforth Highlander’s Diplomatic Protection Unit,” Staff Sergeant Desmarais introduced himself to the two men. Three other Pacifican Marines stepped out of the vehicle, “Sergeant Jonathan Barrett, Corporals Brent Miller and Jarrod Brett.”

***

Prime Minister Wittrock still wasn’t thrilled that he wasn’t getting any answers from anyone. He had enough of being given the cold shoulder by Prime Minister Dwyer’s government. He looked over at Dwyer, “I’m starting to think your government doesn’t have control over the situation Mr. Dwyer. Nor are you keeping me in the loop, what the Hell is going on?”

Dwyer frowned. He did not appreciate Wittrock's tone. "We have kept you in the loop. That is precisely what I brought you here for. We are still figuring out what the hell is going on ourselves so don't vent your frustration on me..."
Aurelia, sensing it was time to intervene, pounded on the table. "Gentlemen! We won't achieve anything by yelling at one another."
"The Minister is quite right..." Aldington said calmly. "We must now determine the appropriate cause of action." An aide handed him a piece of paper. "They are demanding the recognition of Asta as an independent nation and will begin killing a hostage a day from dawn tomorrow unless we, quote, "listen carefully". That gives us two choices: negotiate or use of force."
Aurelia re-assured Wittrock: "Our two nations will work through this crisis together - every step of the way."

Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock cooled down after Miss Aurelia gave him her reassurances that Novus Prosperitas and Pacifica could work through the crisis together. He wouldn’t even look Simon Dwyer in the eye.

He felt his Deputy Prime Minister and Attorney General – Mr Aldington more adept to handle the situation on his government’s behalf, “I don’t believe its recommended lady and gentlemen to negotiate with these terrorists. They’ve committed an unforgivable atrocity against the Pacifican Federation. They’re certainly not exactly on our Christmas card list. What other acts of domestic terrorism has the group committed and, or have claimed to have done?”

***

Admiral John Bennett slouched into his office chair after pouring himself a glass of brandy. He shouldn’t given into his problem with alcoholism. He had been sober for fifteen years. He looked at the glass. The Deputy Prime Minister refused to report his executive order to the Prime Minister for his approval.

He quickly rose to his feet in anger and hocked the glass against the wall on the opposite side of the wall. He sat back down and picked up the phone, “Operator - Please get me Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock in Securitas, Novus Prosperita on the line.”

"We will negotiate..." Dwyer uttered. Aldington nodded and the other men around the table mumbled in agreement. Aurelia, however, was notably silent.
"Mr Aldington, perhaps you should remain here to head the crisis centre with General de Barra and the Commissioner," the Prime Minister continued. He turned to his Secretary of the Interior. "Mr Luxton?"
"I shall organise a team at once. In fact, might I suggest I go down to Everton and see the situation first hand?"
"Yes, yes. That sounds like a good idea."
"I'll have Isatis escort you." Sertorius reached for the phone again.
"Also get Howarth over here," Dwyer demanded. "I want to know what the hell his people do all day."

A Pacifican aide stepped into the meeting and approached Wittrock with a phone: "Mr Prime Minister, Admiral Bennett is on the line."

“Excuse me Lady and Gentlemen,” The Prime Minister followed the aide out of the room into another with a secured line to Georgetown. The aide closed the door behind him, “Prime Minister Wittrock here Admiral.”

“Mr. Prime Minister, I presume you’ve been updated by Prosperitan authorities on the happenings at Pacifica House in Securitas. Correct, Mr. Prime Minister?” The Admiral inquired.

“Yes. I’ve been brought up to speed on what’s going on at the compound here in Securitas Admiral. I’ve been informed by the Prosperitan Attorney General, Mr. Aldington that a Latin separatist group have claimed responsibility for the current situation.”

“Any details on the group Mr. Prime Minister?” The Admiral inquired.

“The Prosperitans are being very quiet on the issue. Prime Minister Dwyer wishes to negotiate with terrorists Admiral. I’m going to try to talk to him out of it.”

“Prime Minister – I’m calling to report that the Deputy Prime Minister has taken the initiative in requesting a covert military operation be carried out to assess the situation in Securitas. He’s gone against my recommendation to obtain your approval,” The Admiral answered, “How do you want to go by this?”

The line went silent.

“Do you want me to follow through sir?”

“No Admiral. Send the men. I’ll alert Prosperitan authorities to apprehend the men avoiding an international crisis.”

“Sounds like a solid plan.”

Pacifican embassy drama claims two lives, 30 others held hostage

http://www.smh.com.au/ffximage/2005/07/24/britishpolice_wideweb__430x303.jpg
Police keep vigil outside Pacifica House.

Terrorists captured the Pacifican embassy in Secuirtas on Tuesday after a gun fight that is thought to have killed at least two guards. Up to 30 embassy staff and visitors are understood to be captive inside.

The group claiming responsibility for the attack is a previously unknown Astanian separatist group calling itself "Free Asta". The group is demanding the Prosperitan government recognise the people of Asta in southern Novus Prosperitas as a distinct nation. Free Asta has also criticised Novus Prosperitas' relationship with Pacifica. In a statement released to the media by police, the group called the Pacifican Federation "a nation of half-breeds and sinners".

It says it will kill a hostage a day from Wednesday until its demands are met.

The region of Asta has the largest population of Greco-Roman and Phoencian descendents in the country and it is widely considered to have been the site of the earliest human settlements. The Astanian nationalism movement was once prominent in the 19th century. However, inter-marriage and cultural assimilation led to its decline. Despite this, fringe groups have prevailed in the south, where English is far less commonly spoken and the Latin-Prosperitan culture thrives. Most recently, in the 1990s, a string of organisations claimed responsibility for a spate of letter-bombs and arsons. However, these were thought to have been the work of lone radicals. On Tuesday police admitted they had "greatly under-estimated" the extent of Astanian separatism.

Deputy Assistant Commissioner John Isatis told journalists: "No one in Novus Prosperitas - be they of Astanian descent or Anglo-Saxon descent, or mixed ancestry - could really have predicted this. We are as shocked as the ordinary citizen."

Witnesses to the attack say there may have been as many as 20 terrorists. The masked men were well armed. Police believe the group may have infiltrated a security checkpoint at the front of the embassy by using a delivery truck. Two rented SUVs were also identified at the scene. DAC Isatis said there was a "high probability" the terrorists had acquired their weapons and any training abroad, possibly across the border in Pacitalia.

Police believe the attack was deliberately timed to coincide with the arrival of Pacifican leader Anthony Wittrock in Securitas today in order to "maximize" the impact of their siege.

"It's quite clear that this has been in the works for some time," DAC Isatis said in briefing the media. "It was well planned and appears to have been well executed."

Late on Tuesday afternoon, a hostage thought to be Pacifican ambassador Benjamin Gettler was forced on to the front balcony of the main building by a gun-wielding man in what seemed to be a display of psychological torture.

The National Police Service says it has prepared for "every possible scenario" and is working around the clock to ensure the safety of those being held inside. However, DAC Isatis, director of special operations, refused to elaborate on what role Pacifican authorities were playing. Neighbouring homes and buildings in Amicitia Drive have been evacuated.

A crisis centre has been activated in the capital, where Deputy Prime Minister Richard Aldington and Secretary of the Interior John Luxton are thought to be playing a crucial role in negotiating with Free Asta. Military units are also being placed on standby.

In a press conference held this evening, Secretary of the Interior Luxton stressed the government's desire for a peaceful resolution to the crisis.

"We don't want any more bloodshed," Luxton said. "We want the hostages out and alive. That's why I'm here to negotiate."

Prime Minister Simon Dwyer and Pacifican Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock are to address their nations in a joint statement at 19:00 AOTC.

- AdferoLive.nvp

Upon Wittrock returning to the room, Dwyer stood up to leave.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we'll keep in touch..." He then turned to Wittrock. "Mr Prime Minister, I intend to address the nation tonight. Would you like to issue a joint statement with me? We'll discuss it on the ride back to Parliament."

***

"Well, you picked a good time to come to work," Munro spat. "Two of your guys are dead - we think it could be more. They have Christ knows how many people holed up inside. It's got to be something in the order of 30 but we're just guessing. We're up against a bunch of separatist bastards from the south who think they're special and apparently they are prepared to kill to make their point. Other than that... Welcome, chaps."

Wittrock played by Pacific_a and Prosperitan characters played by Novus Prosperitas over instant messenger.


The Prime Minister wasn’t thrilled that he’ll be paraded in front of the Prosperitan press, “I’d like to participate in a joint press conference with you Mr. Dwyer. Due to the current circumstances, I’m certain that my security detail will wish to due a security assessment of the situation before I attend any public briefings.”

"That shouldn't be a problem," Dwyer replied tersely.

The others nodded. Aldington rose. "Of course, excuse me one moment."

He led Wittrock into a side room, Dwyer followed and shut the door. "Yes, Mr Prime Minister?"

Wittrock emphasized to Dwyer, “In private Prime Minister.”

Dwyer looked puzzled. "Excuse me?" His face flushed with exasperation. "Just what is the problem, Mr Wittrock? I am the Prime Minister." Aldington agreed: "There is absolutely no reason why he should not be privy to our conversation if the matter you wish to raise concerns the Prosperitan government."

“The Pacifican government isn’t in business with negotiating with terrorists at any cost. Prosperitan nationals have violated international law Mr. Dwyer. A trust that exists between our two nations. A reason that your country was the among the first for Pacifica to reopen relations to. Now something this severe happens?” Wittrock rhetorically asked not allowing either men to provide him an answer, “I have been forwarded information from my Chief of Defence Staff Admiral John Bennett that my Deputy Prime Minister and Minister of National Defence have committed a high federal offence in signing an executive order behind my back to call for a covert military operation on Prosperitan soil.

“I cannot allow this to happen. I’m a believer in international law Prime Minister Dwyer and Deputy Prime Minister Aldington. I didn’t want to bring this forward to you Mr. Dwyer to avoid further confrontation with you. This must not become public, you must assure me. They’ll be arriving at the same airport I arrived at on an unmarked private jet. They’ll be at least six men in size. Apprehend them before they make a further mess.”

Dwyer raised an eyebrow. "You have the audacity to lecture me ... You don't even have control of your own cabinet..." Dwyer muttered.

The Deputy Prime Minister shook his head and sighed. "Well, thank you for that information. Can you be any more specific with it? When is this flight due to arrive?"

Wittrock just downright ignored Dwyer’s comment. He had control over his cabinet he just manipulated a top tier member of it. Lazarus Krajicek is a predictable crooked man toyed with the wrong Prime Minister. He nodded, “The flight will be arriving within the hour. I advise that you paint the event that these men came on an international flight without proper identification for entry. Then release the men after this horrific nightmare has come to an end.”

With that, the Prosperitans burst back into the crisis room. Dwyer, red faced, pointed to the Police Commissioner. "Get some men to the airport now. Shut that place down."

The startled commissioner complied. "But Mr Prime Minister, what are we looking for?" He asked. Dwyer responded: "The Pacificans are trying to sneak in the backdoor..."

Wittrock followed behind. He knew he did the right thing in telling both of them. He could have continued to criticize the Dwyer administration’s “wishful thinking” to negotiate with terrorists with an embassy full of hostages.

"You are to detain them the moment they step off that plane, understood?" Sertorius declared down the black telephone. An agitated Dwyer paced back and forth nearby, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.
"Let us hope it is not too late," he muttered.

***

Three silver SUVs pulled up outside the main terminal of Blanchette International. Plain-clothed detectives and uniformed officers leapt out of the cars and barked orders at commuters to "move" and "get out the way".
"Who is your superior!?" Senior Detective Sergeant Johnson demanded of a young airport security guard. "Take us to the control centre. This is a matter of state."

Johnson flashed his ID and approached the Director of Airport Security. The Director raised an eyebrow. "Just what is the meaning of this, sir?"
"We're temporarily shutting you down... Put the word out. Close the doors! Nobody is to leave until I give the all clear."
"Jesus! Are you insane?"
"These orders come from the top."
"Very well, Detective."

“This is Blanchette International Air traffic control tower bravo-four actual calling unidentified callsign, please identify yourselves,” an air traffic controller came over the radio.

Lieutenant Colonel Bower looked to his men, “Command stated we need complete radio silence. We’re here to bring medical aid to the Prime Minister’s wounds at the Securitas Memorial Hospital”

The men nodded back to him.

“This is Air traffic control bravo-four actual calling unidentified callsign. Please identify yourselves,” the Air traffic controller repeated firmly.

No response.

“Repeat, this is Air traffic control bravo-four actual calling unidentified callsign. Please identify yourselves or the use of force is authorized,” the air controller called over the radio.

The plane skidded on the tarmac to a complete stop. Tons of armoured vehicles’ sirens roared nearby. The nearly blinding lights flashing into the pilot’s face.

The plane comes to a complete stop surrounded by law enforcement.

Johnson placed a megaphone to his mouth: "This is the National Police Service. You are surrounded. Please exit the plane with your hands in the air!"
Around him, armed officers waited anxiously for the plane's hatch to open. Marksmen crouched on nearby rooves and behind cars. From the control tower, senior government representatives watched the scene unfold.

Six unarmed men in civilian clothing single file exited the Learjet.

"We believe we have them, sir," the Police Commissioner informed the Prime Minister. "We have in custody six men of unknown origin. The plane has been searched and weapons recovered: military-grade explosives and various types of firearms, including the Steyr AUG. It appears they were planning to enter the country on Pacitalian passports (which we can be certain are forged). Needless to say, the suspects aren't talking."
Prime Minister Dwyer nodded. "Excellent. You will hold them until further notice."
"Very good," Aldington added. "In the mean-time, we can charge them with a dozen separate offences."
"And what of the media?" Dwyer returned to the Commissioner.
"We're going to run with drugs."
"Very well. Ladies, gentlemen. If you'll excuse me. Mr Wittrock and I have a statement to read." The Prime Minister stood up, bowed, and left the room, Wittrock in tow.

***

The six men were handcuffed and led to an armoured prison truck, flanked by heavily armed police. Johnson attempted to make conversation with the group.
"This whole thing is a mess, and you're right in the thick of it, eh?"
The doors slammed shut behind them and the truck left the airport, accompanied by two unmarked cars.

***

The Secretary of the Interior and DAC Isatis emerged from their SUV and reviewed the situation outside Pacifica House.
Luxton sighed, "Pass that thing to me."
Munro lit a cigar as Saul handed the minister the telephone. "You're the boss."
"You are speaking with Secretary Luxton. You have my attention. Release the hostages now and the Prosperitan government will grant you amnesty."

Adonis laughed uncontrollably, holding the phone so that the others around him could hear the minister's plea.
"Hello? Did you hear me?..."
"Yes, yes. I heard you. And the answer is no. We have only one demand and that is the liberation of the Astanian race. The imperial occupation must end. Asta must be free. You will recognise the Astanian nation or these people will die and many more deaths will follow. This is but the beginning of the revolution."
Luxton dabbed the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. Adonis' rant continued but Luxton's attention drifted. Finally, he took a moment to recollect his thoughts.
"What you are proposing is simply impossible... Asta is Prosperitan. Our nation cannot be divided along racial lines, that goes against all that Novus Prosperitas is founded on."
"For too long, Astanians have bowed their heads in quiet submission. That ends today!"
"We understand your position," Luxton said as calmly as he could manage. "But I am afraid it is just not that simple... And you must surely understand the complexities of this issue. We are, however, prepared to negotiate..."

The phone rang.

Attorney General Louise Deveaux picked up the phone, “Hello?”

“This is the Office of the Prime Minister of Novus Prosperitas. Please hold for Pacifican Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock.”

The phone went to hold. The Attorney General was interested why the Prime Minister had placed a call from Simon Dwyer’s office.

“Louise, Anthony here. I want you to start doing the paperwork to impeach the Deputy Prime Minister for allegedly committing a federal offence of calling a military led covert operation on friendly foreign soil.”

“Yes Mr. Prime Minister,” Louise said, “Do you suspect he’s behind the entire thing Prime Minister?”

“At this point I hope not.”

***

“Sorry Louise. I gotta run to a press conference. Please keep this under wraps until I get back,” Prime Minister Wittrock hung up the phone and passed it over to Simon Dwyer, “I’ll reimburse you for the international call – thank you.”

***

Deputy Prime Minister smiled to himself looking out the window looking out onto the Georgetown skyline from his office, “I certainly love the few but I hate to hear that the Prime Minister has accused me of committing a heinous crime against the state. In fact, he’s the one responsible to reopen Pacifica’s doors to the world, to these blood thirsty Prosperitans. The Prime Minister’s ignorance is a crime. I want him killed so painfully he’ll beg for my forgiveness!”

Commodore Joseph Martineau smiled and folded his hands. He moved his head forward to speak, “Monsieur Deputee Prime Minister. We could always, covertly order another team with other orders to destroy him. We already changed the course of infiltration for the team of twelve covert operators to enter the country to take care of the situation at the embassy. You’ve shown true leadership today. We’re one day closer to bringing Pacifica on top of this.”

“What do you propose Commodore?”

“We’ll put Admiral Bennett into custody for high treason and place the rest of the country under martial law.”

“Do it.”

***

Admiral John Bennett walked around the crescent corridor until four Military Policemen appeared, “Admiral John William Bennett, you’ve been ordered to be placed under arrest under article one, subsection a of the Uniform Military Code of Justice.”

“Treason son? You’re talking about me, the friggin’ Chief of the Defence Staff. I’m no traitor Major,” Admiral Bennett growled at the men.

“Please sir, cooperate or face additional reprimands,” the Major answered, “Take him into custody Corporals.”

Three other men approached the Admiral.

“You don’t touch a hair on me! you hear boys?” The Admiral barked at the men, “I don’t know what kind of cruel joke this is Major but it’s got to stop.”

The three men got out their batons and hit the Admiral to the ground with them. Two of the men forced the Admiral to the ground while the other placed restraints on him.

“Drag him around to the holding area.”

***

“Mr. Deputy Prime Minister,” Chief of the Army Lieutenant General Craig “Duke” Sanderson entered the office, “Reporting that the Chief of Defence Staff has been arrested for crimes against the state – high treason for his closeness to the crisis in Novus Prosperitas at our embassy compound.

“Excellent Lieutenant General,” Deputy Prime Minister Krajicek stood from his feet, “Congratulations are in order for you Duke. You’re the brand new Chief of Defence Staff with the promotion of full General. Please take the initiative to have Pacifica under martial law within the next forty-eight hours.”

“Yes Mr. Krajicek,” Duke answered and left the room.

Krajicek rose to his feet, “And Duke – bring the Attorney General to my office immediately. I believe she’s preparing to bring this to the Prime Minister’s attention and place the rest of the cabinet on house arrest.”

***

Two armed men appear before the Attorney General, “You must come with us ma’am to see the Deputy Prime Minister immediately.”

“I won’t be going with you,” the Attorney General’s barked.

One of the men dashed at her banging her into the bookcase. Books fell over. She got up to her feet and tried to make a run for the door. The other man pushed her forcefully to the ground.

Dwyer, Wittrock issue statement

http://www.un.org/News/dh/photos/168709-clooney.jpg
Anthony Wittrock fields questions.

The leaders of Pacifica and Novus Prosperitas issued a joint statement on Tuesday night in which they condemned the Free Asta terrorist group and called for the immediate release of the Pacifican embassy hostages.

The address was broadcast live via television and radio in both countries. Speaking from Parliament House in Securitas, Prime Ministers Dwyer and Wittrock urged calm in the face of the "worst political crisis" either nation had faced in modern times. The Prosperitan and Pacifican governments vowed to work together to secure the safety and release of the hostages. Mr Dwyer said his administration "would not rest" until every hostage was freed.

"We will do whatever it takes within ethical boundaries to ensure their safety. We don't want anymore bloodshed."

The Prosperitan government, with the support of the Pacifican government, has agreed to negotiate with Novus Revolutio for the return of the hostages."

Mr Dwyer condemned the group Free Asta as a "gang of street criminals" but stopped short of criticising the Astanian separatist movement, instead calling for "national calm and understanding". In "no way" did the Prosperitan government condone terrorism.

Pacifican Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock said he had confidence in Prosperitan law enforcement agencies overseeing the crisis and echoed Dwyer's calls for a peaceful resolution.

"The Pacifican government will not take any course of violence on Prosperitan soil," Mr Wittrock stated.

Meanwhile, Leader of the Loyal Opposition Servius Bach has offered his "full and unwavering support" to the government.

"There's a time for politics, and there's a time for unity. Now is the time for unity," Mr Bach said in a brief statement.

- AdferoLive.nvp

The convoy of vehicles returned to the Securitas Central Police Station. The truck and two stationwagons carrying the confiscated weapons passed through a security checkpoint before driving down a ramp to the basement. There, the six suspects were ordered out of their ride and taken towards a block of nearby holding cells.

The men complied with their Prosperitan captors as they were processed in holding.

The Police Commissioner cleared his throat. "We have drawn up plans for a possible rescue-mission. But I cannot guarantee its success. On the other hand, every minute this thing drags on, the greater risk we put the hostages, and the country in..."
"Indeed," murmured General de Barra. "We have given these people the attention they seek. Their cause is now the subject of every talkback radio station, newspaper editorial and dinner table conversation in the damn country. I hear that Asta for Astanians is what they are chanting in the streets of Kingstown," de Barra spat. "We have to put a stop to it. I fear that by giving into their blackmail we may send a dangerous message to their supporters. Regardless of what happens to the hostages, we will have blood on our hands..."
The other men and women around the table bowed their heads, solemnly contemplating the general's words. Deputy Prime Minister Aldington, however, seemed unmoved.
"I am sorry... But a rescue mission right now would be premature. If Mr Luxton can make inroads to their demands, we may be able to avoid the use of force."
"I think we are making a mistake," de Barra muttered, folding his arms. "Sooner or later we will have to act."

***

Munro joined Saul and a group of uniformed officers in flak-jackets and caps. Luxton sat in the back of a nearby trailer that was serving as the mobile command post. The minister continued in his frantic efforts to negotiate with the revolutionaries.
"Damn it, they hung up!" He cursed. It was now after 9pm. Darkness had fallen and the cold set in.
Munro shook his head. "Another 9 hours and they'll start killing."
Luxton frowned and looked up at his assistant, who handed him a note.
"God Lord..."
"The Pacificans do not know, I am told..." The assistant whispered.

The Prime Ministers reentered the situation room together side by side. They came to an unease peace between the two of them in their latest dabble in regards to Deputy Prime Minister Krajicek’s unconstitutional order to approve a covert operation on Prosperitan soil. They were greeted by Deputy Prime Minister Aldington, “Mr. Prime Minister – six men were placed into our custody at Blanchette International. We’re going to run the story that they entered the country with Pacitalian passports smuggling in illegal drugs.”

Wittrock replied, “Sounds like a solid story Deputy Prime Minister. However, supposedly the Pacitalians investigate this matter after these men request consular services from the Embassy for legal representation. A Pacitalian government barrister comes to the holding facility.”

They’ll discover the forged foreign travel documentations “issued” by their government and call our bluff. The next thing there’ll be an investigative journalist trying to knock on our bloody door. I believe we should come up with a stronger cover story.”

***

The Attorney General was shoved to the floor by the two armed men in front of Deputy Prime Minister Lazarus Krajicek’s desk. He waved his hand dismissively. The two men exited the room swiftly to carry out their order. The door slammed.

Krajicek rose to his feet and walked over to the Attorney General, “Why have you chosen to decide your country, Mrs Deveaux?”

“I have betrayed no one,” Louise sharply replied.

Krajicek slapped her across the face with an open hand, “Goddamnit woman. Don’t lie to me. You have failed to uphold the very constitution and set of protocols. The Prime Minister is a traitor; he’s constantly gone out to form relations with these nations that are havens for terrorists. Two Pacificans Louise, two Pacificans have been killed in this crisis so far. This entire crisis could have been averted if the Prime Minister didn’t go on a rampage by normalizing relations with the outside world.

“I, however, am a forgiving man Mrs Deveaux. You can whiteout may name on those papers you are filing with the Supreme Court to impeach me for breaching the constitution to defend Pacifica from any threat including it’s corrupted leadership. Or, you can watch our nation go to kingdom come from your holding cell.”

“I’ll not betray my nation to serve you Lazarus,” Louise barked.

“Men,” Krajicek called.

The two men came back from the outside hallway.

“Please place Mrs Deveaux under arrest under the new domestic terrorism statute.”

The two men forcefully removed her from the room without allowing her to question the Deputy Prime Minister’s motives.

Haliama folded his arms and slouched back in the chair. His rifle leaned against the wall beside him. Rays of sunlight began to filter through the blinds as dawn broke. Haliama sniggered at the weary-faced hostages who cowered in front of him. He knew they hadn't had a wink of sleep. Two of his comrades sat on the floor nearby, quietly speaking in Astanian. Next door, Adonis and Balthasar were arguing. Their loud voices carried through the building.
"What is wrong with you!?!" Adonis yelled.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?!" Balthasar boomed. There was then a loud thud as his fist hit the wall. "You are fucking kidding me!" He roared. "I say we start killing them! Now! Why wait?"
"Do you want to live or not!?!"
Haliama rose to his feet and pounded on the wall. "Shut up!"

Adonis picked up the phone. Balthasar sat behind the ambassador's desk nursing a black eye.
"Get me Secretary Luxton at once. Now!"

Luxton had drifted off in the back of a government SUV shortly after 3am. Four hours later, Munro banged on the windscreen.
"What - what have you to report, Superintendent?" The minister rubbed his eyes and emerged from the vehicle.

***

At 11pm, Prime Minister Dwyer returned to his official residence, Premier House, with Wittrock as a somewhat reluctant guest.
"I'm certain this matter will... Be resolved... Peacefully," Dwyer said awkwardly before retiring to bed.

***

"They want 50 million in dollars, a jet fuelled and ready to go. In return they will release the women and Ambassador Gettler who - we are told - is in need of medical attention. The remaining hostages will accompany them enroute to an undisclosed location."
"Fuck them..." Aldington said under his breath. "Get the Prime Minister down here, immediately."

An inflatable boat with six men in black uniforms came ashore with another shortly behind. The men carried suppressed M14 rifles. Six men jumped out of the second boat and joined their colleagues on shore.

The men together ran up a secluded beach in the outlying areas of Novus Prosperitas towards the two lane highway. They hide along the beach line by the highway.

“Here comes our ride men,” Major Dawson watched a campervan on the move, “Let’s block these fucking Prosperitans on from vacationing in this shit hole!”

The twelve armed men jumped out from hiding and held their weapons.

“Fire a warning shot Sergeant Nelson,” the Major barked an order.

Sergeant Nelson fired a shot at the campervan and skid to a stop.

“Let’s get our new ride.”

The men moved towards the vehicle.

“Get out of the vehicle! Get out of the van!” The men in unison shouted.

An elderly couple ran out of the vehicle.

“Get on your goddamn knees!” The men shouted again.

Major Dawson grabbed his sidearm and fired two shots.

***

“10,” Lieutenant Colonel Bower whispered to himself silently.

“9.”

“8.”

“7.”

Colonel Bower wiped the sweat off his forehead.

“6.”

“5.”

“4.”

“3.”

“2.”

“1.”

Bower shouted at the guard walking past him, “TAKE OFF!”

An explosion rocked the police precinct.

The explosion’s shockwave knocked the guard against the bars of Bower’s cell. Bower jumped at him putting his arm through the bars. He wrapped his arm around the guard’s throat. The guard tried to struggle to free himself from the Colonel’s choking grasp, “Die mother fucker.”

The guard gasped.

Bower released his choke hold. He put his fingers on the guard’s neck.

No pulse.

Bower reached for the keychain. He couldn’t reach them. He rose the guard’s dead body upward against the jail cell’s door.

He grabbed the keys and forcefully pushed the body up against the opposite wall. The Colonel unlocked his cell.

He recovered the guard’s pistol.

Two policemen walked into the cell area with their weapons holstered.

The Colonel without warning shot the two men point blank.

Another explosion rocked the precinct.

He unlocked the cells holding his teammates.

“Let’s recover our shit and accomplish our mission now!”

***

“Simon. I’m not very pleased that your government is willing to negotiate with these terrorists that have been holding Pacifican nationals at gunpoint,” Wittrock continued, “this will mean serious repercussions against Novus Prosperitas in Georgetown. It could be damning to bilateral affairs for both of us. I wish you’ll reconsider your government’s policy. You must be firm with these terrorists Mr. Dwyer. They’ll have more of a reason to carry out a series of more attacks against the general populous. You must not succumb to their level.”

***

The Colonel pointed at the two dead police officers. “Get the officers’ guns and proceed to evidence room. We’ll need to quickly change into our uniforms to blend in.”

Two men picked up the police officers’ guns.

"Would you rather we went in there all guns-blazing and shot the place to hell!?!" Dwyer glared at Wittrock. "We are doing our best to save as many lives as possible. Believe me when I say that nothing matters more to me than the safety of those men and women."

Suddenly an excited aide interrupted. "There has been an explosion at the Central Police Station and there was a gun-fight!"
"What!? When?"
"What are you talking about?" Aldington shouted.
"Good lord... The detainees!" Melissa Aurelia leaned forward over the table and looked past the others at Wittrock. "What's going on, Anthony?"
"I have no clue," Wittrock looked at both Dwyer and Aurelia, "but I'm going to find what the fuck is goin' on. I need a telephone line to Georgetown right now."
"Yes, of course," muttered Aldington. The Pacifican leader was shown to a side room.
"Damn it, find out what the hell is going down over there..." Dwyer directed his Police Commissioner. "They better not have escaped, or else there will be all hell to pay."

***

Johnson was knocked off his feet by the blast. Having hit his head hard against a wall, he struggled to regain his balance.
"What in God's name was that?"
Then a second. Three uniformed officers rushed down the corridor towards him.
"What is it!?!"
Blood covering his forehead, Johnson barked instructions at the men to check the prisoners.
"That was a bomb! It was a fucking bomb!"

A uniformed officer ran from a crossing hallway Bower quickly fired.

Another officer shouted, “GUN! Oh my god, we have an officer down. I repeat – officer down.” The officer tried to treat his dying comrade one of the Colonel’s men fired a shot. The attending uniformed officer’s body fell on top of the other.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

The six men ran down corridor and entered the evidence room.

Bower nodded to his men to get ready.

***

Wittrock was escorted into a small room with a small wooden table with a telephone. He picked it up; he knew it was time to confront Lazarus.

He dialed the number.

***

Krajicek picked up the phone, “Krajicek.”

“Hello Laz. What the hell is going on?”

Krajicek laughed, “I’m surprised you haven’t received the memo Mr. Wittrock. The cabinet has unanimously decided to terminate your premiership under the terrorism statute. We have made a surprising discovery that you’re directly tied to the terrorists responsible for today’s hostage crisis in Securitas through your father’s business connections.”

“I don’t know what kind of trick you’re pulling here Krajicek!” Wittrock screamed on the telephone, “You listen to me very carefully Lazarus. You have no constitutional authority to call any sort of military operation on foreign soil especially our dearest Prosperitan allies. You’re caused a major shit storm here and I can’t explain your fucking actions to the Dwyer administration any longer.”

“You shouldn’t be issuing any threats to me. I didn’t betray my country you piece of shit. You grew up in a hostile nation that has caused Pacifica so much trouble. You’re the traitor here. Oh, and Mr. Wittrock – it was nice to see that you were making a dishonourable attempt to file papers to impeach me.”

“I want to speak with Laugier, Deveaux and Couturier now!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Wittrock but they’re in dispose of at the moment.”

“Goddamnit Lazarus. I don’t know what you’ve got cooking over there.”

“Mr. Wittrock – no one is going to speak with you. Don’t you see, I have full power over the government now? In fact the Assembly has been dissolved after declaring me the Second Lord Protector of Pacifica!”

“My god!” Wittrock dropped the phone to the floor. He turned white as a ghost. He picked up the phone and hang up.

He walked out of the room looking at Dwyer and Aurelia, “We’re in deeper shit then what we originally anticipated.”

***

The campervan entered Securitas’ city limits.

"What are you talking about?" Dwyer demanded.
"Does that mean what I think it means, Anthony?" The Foreign Secretary gasped. She shook her head in disbelief.
"Would someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?" Deputy Prime Minister Aldington asked, heavy sacks beneath his eyes, his voice now heated and raised. "We are running out of time, and options..."

***

"Holy shit..." Johnson peered around the corner. He gripped the handle of his pistol. He could hear them as they rummaged through the next room. A few feet away, another two police officers waited anxiously with the detective. Their hands shook as they drew their weapons. Several of their colleagues were down and it was unclear what exactly the Pacificans were armed with.
"Where is our back-up!?" Johnson said in a hoarse whisper. They were now out-numbered and likely out-gunned, up against a team of elite killers.

***

Two cars turned into the driveway of Adeodatus Waterhouse's beach home. The president was already risen and awaiting the arrival of his close friends and associates. The mood there was almost oblivious to the events that were unfolding less than 100 kilometres away in the south.
"Ah. Basil, Dymitr, James. So pleased you could come."
The dark-suited businessmen shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, commenting on the weather and the journey from the airport.
"We encountered a police roadblock. Apparently an elderly couple were murdered by some bandits and their possessions stolen. What is the world coming to?"
James Benedict, Chief Executive of Waterhouse Holdings and an old school friend of the president, finally remarked on the situation in Securitas: "Damn shame."
"Drinks?"

Prime Minister Anthony Wittrock pushed his hand through his hair. He wanted to know what Lazarus Krajicek meant that the top-tier members of his cabinet were incommunicado, “in disposed of”.

Wittrock’s mind continued to playback what Krajicek said, “In fact the Assembly before being dissolved has declared me the Second Lord Protector of Pacifica.” He was horrified that he placed Lazarus Krajicek in a position of power.

“My premiership has been terminated by Lord Protector Krajicek.” Wittrock bowed his head.

***

Colonel Bower and his men were dressed in standard DPU suits for the Prime Minister’s protection service. They were armed with Heckler & Koch MP-5s and Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistols. Two men stood in the evidence room’s doorway opening fire on the uniformed police officers arriving on the scene.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Bower shouted to his men.

"Oh. Oh, I see. That's just great, isn't it?" Dwyer groaned and buried his head in the palm of his hands.
The others in the room exchanged looks and mumbled quietly among themselves. Aldington leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I'm not sure where that leaves us."
Dr Aurelia calmly approached the deposed Pacifican leader and gently embraced him. "I am so sorry. But it is important we keep our wits about us," she said soothingly.
"This was all part of their plot wasn't it?" Dwyer snickered. "I'm calling Mr Krajicek myself." With that, he stormed out of the room.

***

"What is going on? Why have we not heard from them?" Balthasar glared across the room at Adonis with his one good eye. The others were also growing increasingly impatient and nervous.
"Hang on!" Adonis snapped. "I will call the Secretary again."
"I say we just kill one," Haliama said. "Let's do it. Let's kill one."
"Wait! I will call him first..."

Wittrock smiled at Doctor Aurelia, “Thank you Madam Secretary.”

Wittrock followed Dwyer, “He won’t listen nor consider what you have to say Simon.”

***

Ben Gettler laughed in pain, “You terrorists are all the same: bunch of pathetic losers that were picked on back in grade school. If you kill me here today, I’ll still get a state funeral while you fucker’s bodies will be thrown overboard to the sharks.”

***

The campervan turned down the street heading towards the large growing crowd outside Pacifica House.

The Gunnery Sergeant sitting in the driver’s seat looked over to the Major, “Target in crosshairs Major.”

Dwyer ignored Wittrock and hit the speakerphone button. "Mr Krajicek, this is Simon Dwyer. Just what in God's name is going on? I want an answer, and I want one now. People's lives are at stake. I'm beginning to question whether this whole crisis isn't something that you have concocted as part of your plot to depose your premier. Some assurance would be nice."

Meanwhile, Aldington's worst fears were realised when the Committee received confirmation that the Pacifican detainees had escaped from their holding cells at the Central Securitas Police Station and in the process of their escape had killed six Prosperitan law enforcement officers.
"Put roadblocks up, search cars, buildings, shut down everything for all I care! Find them. We must find them."
General de Barra sat up and looked around the table. "Ladies, gentlemen, we are dealing with a foreign military presence. These aren't bankrobbers or common bank thiefs. They are elite commandos and we have to determine what their mission is, and we have to determine it now, before it's too late..."
"In the mean time, sir, all available units have been assigned to the case, and a national communiqué has been issued. It is possible their destination is Pacifica House..."

“You’re in no position to dictate terms to me Prime Minister Dwyer. You’re harbouring a fugitive, a man who has wronged Pacifica – hand Mr. Wittrock over for crimes against the state and the severity of the consequences maybe lowered.” Krajicek demanded.

"With the greatest respect, that is not the issue right now. There are 30 Pacifican lives being held at gunpoint! I know you have sent special forces into Securitas and I demand to know the purpose of their deployment. I will not stand for this flagrant violation of national sovereignty. We are on the verge of negotiating a peaceful release, for Christ's sake... Do you want to jeopardise that, Mr. Krajicek?"

***

"I swear I am doing all I can. Something urgent has come up..."
"Damn it, Mr. Luxton, we will not be jerked around." Adonis slammed the phone down. He pointed past Gettler at a legal attache.
"You! You will do."
Balthasar grabbed the man and forced him to his feet. Trembling, the hostage pleaded for his life.
"Come. Come now." He was pushed out onto the balcony, in plane view of the police and media. Balthasar held a pistol to the man's head.
"We mean business!" He called out.

Munro's attention was suddenly distracted by the presence of a large campervan as it motored towards the police roadblock.
"Stop!" Yelled officers as they threatened to open fire.

“Don’t you dare take that tone with me Mr. Dwyer!” Krajicek growled.

“It’s unfortunate that thirty Pacificans are presently held at gunpoint. The man responsible for placing these honourable ladies and gentlemen in this position is the presently ousted Prime Minister. Return him to Pacifica at once to avoid military action against you!”

Dwyer paused for a moment and turned to Wittrock. He looked the other man over.
"You believe Mr Wittrock orchestrated this - and what evidence do you have to support that very serious allegation?"

"For God's sake we are running out of time..." Aldington muttered to himself.
"We can attempt a resuce mission," the Police Commissioner repeated. "But I cannot guarantee its success."
Aldington stared at the television screen flickering on the wall and then back at the telephone in front of him.
"They will kill that man in five minutes. We must agree to their demands now!
"Then do it!"

Luxton put the second phone to his ear and waited for Adonis to pick up. He ignored the commotion with the campervan. Munro and Saul stood beside him bitting their fingernails; Munro occassionally glanced over his shoulder.
"Would somebody tell those idiots to get the fuck out of here!"
Finally, Adonis picked up.
"Have you got an answer?"
"We accept your terms."

Without warning the campervan sped up ramming through the Pacifica House gate. The campervan blocked access into the embassy’s grounds.

“You two stay here with the van!” Major Dawson pointed at two men randomly to stay with the campervan.

“Lock and load boys. Let’s get ourselves some Prosperitan ass!” Major Dawson shouted cheerfully.

Nine men followed behind Major Dawson while they ran up the steps to Pacifica House. The doors were left open, “Operation Darkhorse, ago. The use of call signs authorized.”

***

“I cannot discuss evidence with a nation that’s harbouring a Pacifican fugitive from custody any longer,” Krajicek hung up the phone.

Krajicek rose from his feet wearing a military uniform. He walked over to the mini-bar and poured himself two drinks, “I’m going to authorize Operation Whiskey Alpha Tango.”

“Very well sir,” Commodore Martineau replied. He picked up the phone and dialed a few names, “Viper. This is Fox. Mike a go.”

***

“Yes Fox. Over.” Colonel Bower replied to Commodore Martineau’s order. He looked at his men in the suburban they “borrowed” from the Novus Prosperitas police.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number to the Ministry of the Interior, “This is Special Agent James Morrison. We believe the detainees’ targets are Prime Ministers Dwyer and Wittrock. Put them in lockdown. My team will be arriving on the scene shortly to escort them to the bunker.”

Adonis called to Balthasar, "Bring him in!" He then returned to Luxton: "Very well. I will have instructions for you shortly."

Everyone leapt out of the way of the accelerating campervan. Munro and Saul quickly rushed to their feet and pulled out Glocks. There was a sudden burst of gunfire and screaming as the police shot at the vehicle.
"Stop shooting!" Munro ordered his men.
Secretary Luxton dived for cover with the phone still in his hand. "I'm sorry, I do not know what's happening out here. Please..." He was cut off.

"Good God! Are we being shot at?" Adonis ordered everyone to the ground. Outside the room there was a rush of feet as three of the terrorists dashed downstairs. A fourth burst into the room in which the hostages were being held.
"Quick! We are being attacked!"
Adonis grabbed his rifle. "Shit."

Major Dawson’s men cleared the lobby.

“Lobby clear,” one of his men reported.

Dawson led his team up the stairwell to the floor the terrorists were holding the hostages.

“Second floor clear,” another one reported.

The men split themselves on either sides of the close door.

“Throw flash,” Dawson ordered.

One man quickly opened the door while the other threw the flash grenade in, “Flash ago.”

The team moved in and fired a few shots killing nine of the terrorists.

“Digger and Slam follow me,” The Major ordered, “Men stand down here and keep guard of the hostages.

The Major and two men came to the final door to the Ambassador’s office, “Throw flash.”

Slam opened the door.

“Flash ago!” Digger shouted.

The flash grenade exploded.

“Go! Go!” Dawson ordered and followed behind his men.

Spotting two terrorists drop their weaponry.

“On your knees on your knees!” Dawson barked loudly.

***

“Dwyer, I’m going to board the next plane out of Novus Prosperitas so I can look that motherfucker straight in the eye,” Wittrock spoke rather bluntly.

Balthasar lay on the ground, crying in pain. As well as nursing the black eye he had received from Adonis earlier in the day, he now had a gun shot wound to the shoulder.
"Kill me, you bastards! Kill me!" He screamed.
Adonis stood in the corner, rifle still in hand. His steely eyes probed the room. Dead bodies everywhere. He released his weapon.
"On your knees, on your knees!"
Adonis complied.

Among the sirens and excited voices on the street outside Pacifica House, police officers forced the media and other onlookers back while the Army arrived to surround the embassy compound. Two truck loads of soldiers pulled up a few metres from the crashed campervan. Overhead a helicopter prepared to land on a neighbouring property.

***

"You're not going anywhere," Aurelia said firmly. "It would be unsafe and unwise."
"Dr Aurelia is correct," Dwyer conceded. "And after all that's happened today, I think I would rather keep you in my sight."
"There are indeed a lot of questions to be asked and answers to be found," Aldington rubbed his chin. "This crisis is far from over."

General de Barra placed down his phone and returned to the meeting. "We have the perimeter secured."
"Now to speak with these... Cowboys," Dwyer hissed. "They're not leaving. Not until we say. And I want any surviving terrorists placed in our custody."

Before Dwyer could deal with the matter any further, two members of the Diplomatic Protection Unit entered the crisis centre and took aside the PM.
"We have reason to believe both your life and the life of Prime Minister Wittrock are under immediate threat. Our intelligence suggests a specialist hit team could target this very building. We're going to have to ask that you stay put for now..."

Major Dawson slid out his sidearm from its holster and fired a few shots in the air. He then pushed the pistol downward between Balthasar’s eyes. The pistol nozzle burnt him leaving an imprint, “I don’t think you’re worth a bullet mate.”

“Clear their weapons,” the Major ordered Slam.

Slam took their weapons and threw them off the Ambassador’s balcony.

Ambassador Gettler tried to stand on his feet, “I knew the Prime Minister would come get us. Good job men.”

Major Dawson, “The Prime Minister didn’t order this mission. In fact this was ordered especially for you.”

Dawson fired his clip of his sidearm into the Ambassador’s frail body.

Dawson laughed at Balthasar, “I did a job you bloody well couldn’t.”

“Men bring these two down in the front yard.”

***

“No I must insist that I leave the country at once!” Wittrock exclaimed.

Two suited men entered the room informed that Prime Minister Dwyer and himself are being placed under lock down.

***

The suburban moved into the parking garage underneath the Ministry of the Interior. Colonel Bower shouted to the driver, “Stay with the vehicle. The rest with me.”

Colonel Bower showed his credentials as DPU Special Agent James Morrison. The guard cleared him and his team. They took the elevator and met by two DPU agents.

“Special Agent Morrison? Special Agent Blackmore and Special Agent Roberts and myself will lead you to the Prime Ministers,” Special Agent Blackmore made the short introductions.

“Yes, these are Special Agents Turner, Babington, Adcock, and Bottomley. Agent Atkinson is with the vehicle. Have you followed the proper protocol?” Bower replied.

“Yes Agent Morrison,” Blackmore replied and started to lead the men down the hallway.

The two prime ministers emerged from the briefing room, flanked by the senior detective sergeant of the DPU and a member of Wittrock's own security contingent. The senior DPU officer nodded to Blackmore and then looked at Morrison curiously.
"Who the hell are you? I haven't seen you before."

“I’m Detective Sergeant James Morrison with the Diplomatic Protection Unit Prime Minister. Of course we haven’t been properly introduced Prime Minister. My special team is on a need-to-know basis. Therefore disallowing my team from being compromised from outside elements to place your life in jeopardy. I’m under orders to escort the Pacifican Prime Minister and yourself to a secure secret bunker.”

The senior detective sergeant nodded. James Morrison. I swear I've heard that name before. "Let's go."
The group briskly made its way through the maze of corridors and eventually arrived in the carpark where the SUV waited. The Prime Minister's limousine pulled up behind it. Dwyer moved to get in.

***

The Deputy Prime Minister and the emergency task-force (that had thus far been comprised of the Civil Contingencies Committee and other senior government ministers and officials) were left with instructions to re-open dialogue with Georgetown. In the meantime, Prosperitan Army units held their position around Pacifica House in Everton. News outlets had been covering the day's sudden and dramatic turn of events as they unfolded live on television. Cameras captured the moment the commandos stormed the building and the immediate aftermath. But the government had refrained from making any official comment on just what was happening at Number 10, Amicitia Drive. Media speculated that a rescue-mission had been approved by the Prosperitan Cabinet and successfully executed by Pacifican special forces with precision timing.

At noon, Secretary of the Interior Luxton attempted to make contact with the commander of the Pacifican forces now holed up inside the embassy compound (presumably with the freed hostages and captured terrorists). While Dawson and his team finished searching the building and rounded up the survivors, a telephone in the lobby rang repeatedly.

Breaking News: Rescue ends Pacifican embassy siege

http://www.transdiffusion.org/emc/tvheroes/images/240stv-iranianembassy.jpg
A grenade explodes inside the embassy.

The siege of the Pacifican embassy in Securitas appears to have ended after a dramatic raid by unidentified commandos. Millions watched the real-life drama unfold on television.

An intense battle between the rescuers and the hostage-takers is thought to have raged for up to 20 minutes. Screams were heard from inside the building amidst much gun-fire and at least two explosions. Earlier, a vehicle, originally identified as a campervan, caused confusion when it broke through a police roadblock in Amicitia Drive and was fired upon by police when attempting to enter the embassy compound. Within minutes of that incident, twelve masked troops appeared to emerge from the van and storm the front of the building.

Adfero's William Whitelaw, who has been covering the story since it broke on Tuesday, says police stationed outside Pacifica House appeared "genuienly confused" by the morning's events. He described the scene as "pandemonium" with Secretary of the Interior John Luxton twisting his foot while running for cover, and officers taking contradictory action.

"I witnessed one senior officer order his men to open fire on what we now presume where Pacifican special forces, at the same time another was calling on them to put down their arms. It was a chaotic scene. The like of which I have not seen before," Mr Whitelaw told Radio Adfero Live.

There is still no official confirmation of the rescue and a spokesman for the Ministry of Interior said the matter would "be addressed in time". Despite this uncertainity, witnesses say it is clear the terrorists were "over-powered". The rescuers and the hostages have yet to emerge, however.

The Prosperitan Army has since deployed units to the suburb of Everton, where Amicitia Drive is located. A helicopter landed on the lawn of a neighbouring property shortly before noon and armed soldiers are now patrolling the area. The Ministry of Defence described the deployment as "routine".

Meanwhile, investigators say the explosion at Securitas Central Police Station earlier in the day was likely an accident and not linked to the Pacifican embassy siege. Initial reports state that at least three officers were killed and others wounded in the blast that is suspected to have been the result of a serious electrical fault.

"However, we do not rule out the possibility that this was something else entirely," a police spokeswoman said. "The investigation remains ongoing."

The downtown complex and nearby buildings were evacuated as a safety precaution.

- AdferoLive.nvp

Before Prime Minister Simon Dwyer was led to his vehicle he turned, “Wait Wittrock…”

“Yes?” Wittrock inquired getting out of the SUV.

Dwyer ran to Wittrock with his arms in the air.

Wittrock eyes widen and began to run towards Dwyer.

They stopped in front of each other both wrapping their arms around each other.

Dwyer released a dreamily sigh then planted a kiss on Wittrock’s lips.

Wittrock’s eyes lit up.


Moments later.


Wittrock jumped out of his bed startling his wife Yvonne Pendleton, “What the fuck is wrong with you Anth?”

Anthony spat into the sink in the bathroom, “I had a nightmare.”

“Oh dear, what now?”

“I’m too embarrassed to say,” Wittrock came into the bedroom blushing.

“Oh come on sweetie.”

“I kissed…” Wittrock dragged on, “Novus Prosperitan Prime Minister Simon Dwyer.”

Yvonne roared out laughing.

“What’s so funny? He… practically raped me. ” Wittrock embarrassingly asked his wife.

“Oh nothing sweetie. You must made my day,” Yvonne smiled at her husband and patted the empty spot on the bed with the palm of her hand, “Come back to bed.”

Wittrock was relieved that all the events in the “past 24 hours” were merely a dream, “Alright. But that’s the last time eat at the in-laws.”