NationStates Jolt Archive

((OOC: No wars or big invasions, though Special Forces deployments are encouraged, and essentially why I made the RP.))

-URGENT NEWS... "MARSHAL" HUSZAR CAPTURED-

The infamous leader of the Liberty Confederation, former Marshal Lurdan Huszar, was captured a few hours ago in the GWO's Lead Province. He has been transported to Magna Polis Military Prison/Containment Facility #14, one of the most secure prisons in the nation.

He is scheduled to face a trial before the Grand Commander next week at the Grand Courtroom. While Huszar can afford a defense litigator (Which is a rare luxury in the Federation), no litigator has accepted his request. It is widely accepted that the only possible way for Huszar to win is to have his identity proven as someone else. Knowing the Order's courts, it is already almost impossible for most people to win in court unless they are completely unrelated to the crime at hand.

Lurdan Huszar is the leader of the Liberty Confederation, the most successful rebel force against the glorious Fascist Federation. Huszar once was a close aide to Griffith Artiche, the founder and hero of the Grand World Order, as well as the one who brought Fascism to our populace. When Artiche launched his Putsch against the corrupt democracy of the Order during the Foundings, Huszar claimed loyalty to the pathetic President, taking a large chunk out of the Federal Armed Forces before presumably hiding in a nuclear-grade bunker underneath Lead Province.

Huszar is accredited for the cowardly assassination of the Heir of Griffith Artiche by a rebel named Nathan Slusher. Fortunately, it has been shown that the Grand Commander had an Heir already chosen. ((OOC: Heirs = Clones, but nobody knows that.)) Twelve years ago, the Liberty Confederation attempted to take our current Grand Commander's life. A well-aimed rocket went into the hatch of a Divine Tiger, spewing shrapnel into the Grand Commander's left eye. Clearly, this failed, and the Grand Commander's eye has been replaced with a highly advanced optical system with features unknown to the public.

F-MP/CF-14

Marshal Huszar was strapped to a chair, surrounded by the prison's warden and several Prison Overwatch soldiers. They were going to have their fun with the old man beforehand. The shouts of "Commie shitface!", "Pinko!", and various other insults were drowned out by the sound of batons, electric and standard blunt, slamming into the flesh. The warden motioned for them to stop. He pulled off his right combat glove, revealing the GIPU glove liner underneath. He slipped on one of his brass knuckles, which had a spring-loaded blade hidden inside of them. Of course, he wasn't going to kill Huszar, just beat him.

The sound of cartilage and bone crunching filled the small room as the warden beat the hell out of the old Marshal's face. Normally, this would've killed someone of Huszar's age (67), but the man knew how to endure. After the beating, he was completely unconscious.

Magna Polis Liberty Confederation Cellhouse Golf

"And then we have our contacts in the military for EVAC. Do we need to go over this again?"

The room replied with a "No, comrade!"

On one end of the room was a whiteboard with a satellite image of F-MP/CF-14 projected onto it. Markers had been used to show which sides each Liberty Confederation Cell would be attacking. Over half of the cells in the city were being mobilized to directly attack the prison. The rest were to be decoys and scouts.

The prison itself was being specially secured for their special guest. The Magna Polis Civilian Control Unit was out in force, with RSAVs patrolling the streets and often so many officers that some streets had an officer on the sidewalks every ten feet, while CCU Cobras flew overhead every few seconds. The Armed Forces had deployed an entire Regiment of Mechanized Infantry, and the Internal Control Department had sent the First Special Tactics Force Battalion along with a mixed force of Judiciators (Elite Federal Guard judges who are used as a secret police) and Gedanke-Polizei (Another secret police force) Operatives to patrol the entire District.


((OOC: I'm looking for Special Forces operations to assist the Liberty Confederation in their rescue of Marshal Huszar. Clearly, this means no invasions or missile strikes or any of that nonsense. Sleeper units will be accepted. I will not be accepting any help, though diplomatic support and actions are obviously allowed.))

((OOC: Piss. Yes, this is a bump.))

OOC: I thought you were being invaded, and your capital city was being blockaded...

((OOC: Magna Polis never really had much done against it, the only invasion theater is Oil Province, and that never got anywhere. Hostilities also have calmed down, essentially ending the war with a stalemate.))

OOC:Hmm, this would make an interesting counter-RP as to what I did during The War (helping Fictions behind the scenes).

A jet black Zumwalt Class Destroyer sat in the middle of the ocean. The waves lapped around the edge, but the sea was otherwise calm. Odd suited soldiers (http://img.hexus.net/v2/gaming/screenshots_ps3/resist/resist1_large.jpg) could be seen patrolling the decks, although there was no need to do so. The ship, SRS Omega Dawn, was not a frontline warship for the Ustian Royal Navy. In fact, it was a mobile staging post for Sentinel teams, the mobile shock troops of the Special Research & Projects Agency, a secretive organistaion above and beyond the Government itself. A Hawk VTOL flew in and landed on the rear landing pad.

Down in the "Ops Room", as it was called, two unmasked men and a woman occupied the room, along with two masked Sentinels. A man's face was projected onto a large screen in front of them. Merlin, the oldest of the group, now in his eighties (and still seemingly as fit as he was when he was younger) watched with intent, whilst Mitchell and Parker, the other man and the woman respectively, conversed freely with the person on the end of the transmission. They seemed to be nearing the end of their conversation

"So, I can trust you to get this done?" said the man on screen "If we can release Huszar, he may become a valuable asset with insight into the Grand World Order"

"We'll get it done, sir" Merlin said. The man nodded in approval, then the video cut out, leaving a logo in it's place

(OOC: ok, quick explanation here, this is Fictions, this is my puppet(s) I'm using them/it instead if Fictions for obvious reasons. This was agreed over MSN. thank you)

Lolahend New Government Sector (TBN)

“The infamous leader of the Liberty Confederation, former Marshal Lurdan Huszar, was captured a few hours ago in the GWO's Lead Province. He has been transported to Magna Polis Military Prison/Containment Facility #14, one of the most secure prisons in the nation.”
Jason Alvarez, General secretary of the communist party, watched the rest of the report with mild interest. Well well... The Grand World Order, yes he remembered that name but that was many years ago and he tried not to think about it if he could avoid it. Never the less... He pressed a button on the speaker on his desk.
“Comrade Valenski, yes, I was wondering if you could get me all the information you can on 'Marshal Lurdan Huszar' of the GWO” A reply crackled on the speaker, indistinct but Alvarez seemed to understand
“As soon as possible, thank-you comrade” He released his hold on the button and leaned back in his chair, placing his hands in the prayer position and fell into deep thought, going over the options in his head... It would be a shame for a revolutionary of such potential to be executed as would undoubtedly happen... however was It really any issue of theirs? the Grand World Order is several times their size and had already invaded one-- he stopped that line of thought... too many painful memories. That was it, the GWO would have to go. No doubt about it, and while they could not do anything themselves they could jolly well give speeding up the process a damn good shot! A knock cae at the door startling him out if his thoughts
“Come in?”
The door opened and a man stepped inside carrying a folder
“I got the information you asked for Comrade” the man placed the folder on the desk Alvarez picked it up and flicked through it... How interesting. Well, this man seemed to stand a good chance on brining down the fascist establishment, but not from inside a cell.

-----

Magna Polis (GWO)

Julia Rossi had lived almost fifteen years in the Grand World Order, fifteen years pretending to be a damn fascist from the south, she cloud never reveal her true nationality, a northerner and communist, no way, suicide at best. It was hard at first but over the years you got used to it and it became second nature, hell she could go months without thinking about it. But she had a reason tot think abut it now, she had received a call from her comrades, her first since coming here...

“Rossi, how are you doing? It's me, Greco remember?”
“Oh, how could I forget?”
“Wonderful, so how is life on the other side?”
“It's Ok, could be better could be worse”
“Good, good. Now I want you to listen have you heard the news?”
“Oh the ones about M.L.H?”
“That's the one”
“What about it?”
“Some friends are coming later, reckon you can help them out?”

-----

Indetul (TBS)

The loading dock was alive with the usual activity, the trade freighter that went long the GWO route was being loaded up ready to leave. In the cargo hold a man dressed in the uniform of a ships worker wandered around generally looking busy at one point he stopped to talk to a woman also in uniform then went back to whatever job was occupying him. About half an hour passed and the ship began to move. It would take several hours to arrive at Magna Polis by that time might will have fallen.

-----

The Waters near Magna Polis (GWO)

The night had fallen and the ship was just reaching the points that the crew always hated, the GWO security rings, it wasn't so much that it worried them it just always left them with the strange sense that almost anything could happen. The man stood on the deck looking out over the dark waters The lights of the city clearly visible in the distance. That is where he would go, hopefully every thing would go according to plan.
“Hey comrade” He turned around and smiled, it was just Lora Marino, she walked over to him and put her hands on the railings
“So... Magna Polis...”
“Yes, Seen comrade Rizzo?”
“Earlier, He should be joining us soon”
The two stood in silence, contemplating the mission ahead at one point a patrol boat passed by but they paid no notice to it, several moments passed and they heard footsteps behind them, turning around they saw a man striding briskly towards them.
“Lora, Costa” His greeting was brisk, much like his manner. This was Rizzo, the third and final member of their little troupe.
“Well, now we're all here”

-----

An standard apartment in Magna Polis (GWO)

Rossi sat at the small kitchen table. It had taken her all day but she finally found some street punks selling Hacked Cybertags, cost a bloody fortune the bastards. But hey? What could be done? she looked at them. Insignificant looking things and yet they were essential. She had already made the small apartment as ready as she could for the agents to come. It would be nice to have someone from back home to talk to she thought, find out how the old place had been going...

-----

The Waters Near Magna Polis (GWO)

The raft and diving equipment had been smuggled onto the ship beforehand so that they would be able to leave the ship the moment it left the security rings but before the inspections. The water was a lot rougher it seemed in the boat than on the freighter and progress was slow but steady, this was perhaps one of the most dangerous parts, the actual arrival. No, the whole mission was dangerous with infinite possibilities on what could go wrong, getting caught was only part of your worries, or so they heard.
Eventually they reached a port, they had been lucky so far and had run into any problems but their luck may run out. Keeping as quiet as possible Rizzo looked over the dock then ducked back down again and froze, holding his breath, they heard footsteps which after while faded and were no longer audible He glanced up again, coast clear....

-----

Magna Polis (GWO)

A buzz made Rossi start, she walked over to the speaker in the wall, someone was calling to be allowed in. It must be the Agents, who else would be calling at this time of night?
“Hello? Who is this?”
“We were told you have rooms to let?” A female voice answered
“Are you Lora?”
“Yes”
Rossi pressed the button to unlock the doors hoping that it wasn't the last thing she would do. Some time passed where she anxiously waited at the door. One minute, two minutes. A knock sounded, she opened the door and smiled, it wasn't a trap.
“Hello, please come in”

-----

The next day: A pub in a a lower district in Magna Polis (GWO)

Costa sat at the bar, occasionally he took a swig from a drink, he had to be careful though not to get too drunk he had to keep his wits about him as what he was about to do could very easily turn nasty. The door to the bar opened and Rizzo stepped in and sat down at the bar ordering a drink and looking around absentmindedly, not acknowledging Costa in any way. Costa took another gulp of his drink and smiled in a drunken manner at Rizzo and said in a hushed voice that none the less may have been over heard
“Ya know.... Ya know I was wondering right... I was wondering what it would... you know, be like if.. if ya know..?”
Rizzo gave him a blank stare and leaned back slightly
“No. I don't know what you mean... “
“What I mean like, is if” Costa paused a moment then continued “What I mean ish like... Imagine I dunno, living” he paused again “Living under a commie regime”
Rizzo frowned
“Your drunk man!”
“M'not drunk... Just think about it”
“Ok..” Rizzo's voice was sceptical
“T'would be better than what it is at them moment”
Rizzo nodded almost imperceptibly the two talked in a quiet voices about subjects that could be considered disparaging of the system...

(OOC: Not the best but it's half 2 in the morning)

SRS Omega Dawn, International Waters, Near Magna Polis

The Omega Dawn now sat on the Magna Polis border. Since it was listed as an ocean research vessel, it should leave the Sentinels unnoticed during their time there. Even if it was spotted visually, the destroyer had been extensively modified with all kinds of radar defeating equipment.

A group of them were talking on the rear deck. Merlin, Parker and Mitchell conversed whilst the VTOL returned from dropping something off at SRS Broken Mirror, the second of three SRPA Staging Ships

"I don't know sir, something isn't right" Mitchell said, looking out towards Magna Polis "You rescued Ana Drabek, thus helping Fictions' facist government. So why are we out here preparing to hinder this facist government. In fact, more to the point, why are we helping a known Communist, when the Major has taken around 150 Sentinels to fight the Communists in Soryanastan?"

Merlin gave him an all knowing look. A Sentinel since he was 21, Merlin had the most experience of all of them, having helped lead a counter-attack in Lynion against the Imperial Fungi, and flown against the Kulikovians in his early years, along with duties such as rescuing Ana Drabek, co-ordinating with Ustian ground forces during the Nuclear attack on Fictions and 'removing' evidence of an alien in Ameriganastan. Yes, he had expierienced it all.

"How long have you been a Sentinel, Mitchell?" Merlin asked him

"12 years, you know that" Mitchell said back, amazed that Merlin could ask such a question. All Sentinels were unquestionably loyal to The Pioneers, despite only a few had ever actually met them.

"Well, just remember why you're here" Merlin told him "Without us, you know what would have happened. Just remember that you took the oath"

The sound of the VTOL's rotors could be heard in the distance

"Come on, let's get kitted up. Agents in Magna Polis have been feeding us data for some time now, and we're almost ready"

OOC: Just a little post to indicate i'm still here, have sleeper agents at work and set up the characters who are involved, along with a bit of history. Merlin's 'exploits' are references to other threads he's been involved in. He first appeared in Sky Of Aces, in 1943. He then appeared in Change Of Command & Extinction, the Alien Evidence Thread (can't remember the name) and Cry Havoc...

[OOC: GWO, we need to talk.]

SIC

Office of the Director of Intelligence, 27th Floor, Office 0001, North Tower, St Edwards Complex, General Headquarters of Vetakan Security and Intelligence Service (VSIS), New City, New Theeb, Southern Vetaka:

Director of Intelligence Campbell relaxed in his executive leather chair behind his rather large oak desk listening to Johann Pachelbel Canon in D whilst he gorged himself on a freshly prepared Chicken & Bacon Ranch Footlong Sub from the Subway across the street. He was about to take his last bite when their was a sharp rap at his door followed by it swinging open and a man rushing in, Agent Robinson Campbell’s personal bodyguard and attaché. Clearly annoyed by his surprise visitor Campbell groaned before snarling:

“What the fuck?”

Robinson smiled, snigged and cheekily replied to his superior and friend:

“Sorry boss, looks nice, Anyway I have an urgent development regarding Nation Golf”

Robinson approached the desk cautiously and threw a black leather bound file marked “Vetakan Security & Intelligence Service” and “Classified” before retreating slightly. Campbell with a slight amount of mayonnaise still at the corner of his mouth sighed before breaking the seal on the file, opening and reading it. After a few minutes of silence Campbell seemed generally surprise, he looked up at Robinson and spoke softly:

“Verification?”

Robinson looked out towards the skyline of New Theeb and soaked up the classical genius of Pachelbel before making his reply:

“We are acquiring it the moment from field as we speak, I’ve taken the liberty of conversing with Agent Simpson whom authorised me to approach the Admiralty whom I’ve informed of the situation, they’ve diverted the VDFNS Taaren Forthrion to the area, to track anything suspicious entering or leaving.”

Campbell nodded and smiled before snapping:

“Arrange a briefing with General Hammond, General Grocott and the Supreme Honoured Parceltongue, we could do with potentially deploying Special Ops”

Robsinson nodded warmly to which Campbell retorted:

“Get Out, Moonlight Sonata is the next track and I have a Cookie to digest”

With that Robinson smiled bowed his head respectfully and quickly made his exit.

Vetakan Defence Force Naval Ship (VDFNS) Taaren Forthrion, Queen Mary Class Guided Missile Destroyer, Haven West Ocean, 450 Nautical Miles from Grand World Order:

The Queen Mary Class Type IIA Guided Missile Destroyer (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?threadid=560856)was the latest class of vessel to enter full active service within the Vetakan Naval Defence Forces (VNDF). Designed to compliment and eventually replace the now aging fleet of Type 45 Daring Destroyers that had been in service since the Vetakan Navies formation, the Queen Mary represented the height of Animarnian Naval Technology and was designed to be evenly matched in terms of defensive and strike capacities. As a result it became the class of choice for the admiralty to deploy on general patrol duties around the world. The Taaren Forthrion was named after a famed Wagdian Naval Hero commander of the Wagdian Navy during the legendary Stratorian Slave Wars the diplomatic crisis and eventual conflict that arguably shaped the modern day relationship between Vetaka and Wagdog. Commanded by Captain Richard Chatham a Jewish Tribal Vetakan whom had started his career as a Medical Officer some 10 years previously. The Taaren Forthrion was on a routine 4 month patrol and was in the middle of crossing the Haven West Ocean on route to Haven itself when it Communications Officer had received an urgent code red, priority one message from the Admiralty.

The Comms Officer a young fresh faced academy graduate crossed the bridge rather sheepishly and handed the small Tablet PC to the Captain whom smiled, saluted and dismissed him back to his station. As soon as Chatham received the Tablet he knew something was wrong, the Admiralty only ever sent “Priority One” messages when it was dispatching new operational orders to a vessel. Looking around at a rather quiet and baited breathed bridge staff he smiled and inputted his fingerprint into the machine to verify his identity and security clearance as well as receive the message. Reading it quickly sure enough he was right the VDFNS Taaren Forthrion was being ordered to alter course and proceed to just outside of the national waters of the Fascist Federation of the Grand World Order a nation that although unknown to Captain Chatham and his staff was now under intense scrutiny by Vetakan Security and Intelligence Service (VSIS) not just for its general foreign policy activity but also for its part in the recent GWO-Stoklomolvi Conflict that had degenerated into a large scale conflict between two coalitions of nations. Whilst Vetaka maintained neutrality in regards to the affair Vetaka was interested and concerned by the millions of foreign nationals that had been forced to work as slaves within the labour camps of the Grand World Order. Since Vetaka’s formation much of the Vetakan Nations Foreign Policy had centred around ending and abolishing Slavery as a result GWO’s activity went against this and subsequently resulted in Vetakan Survillence and if it was deemed possible and beneficial Vetakan Strategic Action.

As Chatham finished reading the message he again inputted his fingerprint into the machine signalling to the Admiralty back home in the Vetakan Capital of New Theeb that he had received and understood his orders. Putting the Tablet down he cleared his throat and began barking his own orders:

“Helm alter heading to 180 and set course for the Grand World Order, take us to within 21 miles of their national waters. Lieutenant Sutherland inform the tech boys that I want our Archer Recon UAV’s (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=10079775&postcount=895)serviced and operationally deployable within 24 hours, XO convey a Senior Staff meeting for 15:00”

“Aye Sir” came a number of replies.

With that the ship began to steadily arc east towards the Grand World Order where its objectives where to maintain a low profile and officially conduct scientific tests regarding marine life within the area, unofficially however the ship was to conduct covert reconnaissance observations of activities within the region along with other Vetakan Assets in regards to the capture of a known GWO Rebel Leader and Dissident.

OOC: Apologies for double post, been for a meal and cba on editing lol

((OOC: Sure Stok.

It's not slavery, Vetaka, it's our normal prison system lul.))

GWO Bar

A heavy rain had begun to fall, typical of the local climate. The coldness of the region and dust kicked up by "Nuclear Autumn" (A minor, more realistic form of Nuclear Winter), combined with humidity caused by the city's heat directly going into the water, meant it rained or snowed almost every day.

As the two men talked about Communism, several people shifted away from them. Most knew what would happen when openly discussing Communism; CCU or worse could show up in minutes. Of course, in lower-quality areas, this was less likely as the CCU officers stationed there often were too busy practicing police brutality on racial minorities. Furthermore, the Liberty Confederation protected them, so long as it took a low profile.

A man in a brown trench coat (Familiar along the GWO's lower classes) sat down near the two TBN agents, before ordering a basic lager. The man clearly had something odd emanating from him. He was going to listen in on the men before engaging them in conversation. Who exactly was he? No, he wasn't an undercover Civilian Control Officer or a Gedanke-Polizei Operative, he was of the contrary. He was, in fact, a Liberty Confederation Lieutenant looking for people to press into the rebellion.

Outside the City Walls

Night time had always brought a spectacle to the cold, hard exterior of Magna Polis. Large searchlights combed the ocean and skies for boats, aircraft, ships, just about anything worth spotting. Destroyers, frigates, cutters, MABs and CCUPBs bobbed around in the void blackness, each with their own lights. Obviously, they never spotted anything aside from a trawler or recreational vessel. The Artificial Security Platforms could see beyond Magna Polis' territorial waters, though they did so mainly as an early warning system.

Rizzo glanced at the man who had sat near by, there was something odd about him but then, there was something odd about all fascists so he didn’t dwell on it very long. What bothered him was the fact that a brown trench coat meant something, what was it again?
“Costa, I think there’s a CCU officer behind you”
“Yeah well…Well Fuck the CCU” Costa slurred, He had had a bit too much to drink.
“Bashtards always…always getting in the way of...shomething”
In his head Rizzo groaned, he had known this was going to happen, Costa had no head for drink and as usual it was up to him to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid… of course for this particular mission perhaps a more reckless approach was needed but he wanted to avoid a fight if possible.

The Liberty Confederate spoke a warning slowly. "That sort of talk can get you beaten halfway to death out here..."

A person in the bar already was tipping off the CCU through their cell phone, obviously looking for brownie points with the government. The bartender was too busy with his job to care about the anti-fascists. If the CCU arrested them, they would be in trouble, not him or the bar.

Outside, a single CCU patrol vehicle was already en route. Since it was clearly a minor situation and most likely just drunk-speak, only the lights were on. The officers genuinely weren't expecting anything from their next objective.

Briefing Room 2, Sector A-3, Vetakan Defence Force Special Operations, Joint Allied Military Base (JAMB) Flanders Military Base, Southern Honako:

“Alright lads and lasses, pipe down” growled Major Francis Garvey, Commanding Officer of the 101st Commando Regiment

The chatter and card games around the packed briefing room quickly subsided with winning been snatched into pockets and cards being reformed into a deck and covertly sled into the nearest knapsack. After a minute or so the various men and women that made up A Company of 101st Commando sat at class room style desks neat piles of leather bound files lay before them all of them either marked “Vetakan Security and Intelligence Service (VSIS)”, Civil Directorate of Vetakan Foreign Affairs” and “Delian League Joint Intelligence Service” all of them were also marked “Classified” with various ranging classification levels from 4 to 6 with 4 being the highest and 6 being the lowest. The briefing room was dominated by a raised grey podium that the Major stood at with a massive HD Pulsating Screen behind him. The screen was currently segregated into various sections showing various bits of data from mug shots of people, maps, satellite pictures and pictures of various facilities, ships, planes and missile silos. With his operatives now at a deadly silence the Major a balding, stocky 6 foot veteran of various Vetakan Special Forces Campaigns, cleared his throat and smiled:

“Hope you didn’t bitch slap each other to much on the tables here at Flanders Casino”

Their was a small ripple of laughter, which eventually subsided and returned to the silence:

“Alright, people you should of all by now know that we may potentially be deployed on a highly classified fully authorized mission to the Fascist Federation of the Grand World Order. Ill be straight with you all as always at this time I doubt we will be deployed and our deployment to the Carrier will be a long and boring one. However we all know that if we are deployed our actions will have widespread consequences as a result it’s the usual drill of “Training & Waiting” for the green light”

The Major stopped and allowed his operatives both men and women from across Vetaka all culturally unique, yet all united by their loyalty to their nation and through their tribal kinship. The Major was now aging and was a true swashing solider, he initially joined the Vetakan Defence Force as a VDF Diplomatic Guardsman but was soon transferred to Special Operations for outstanding achievements and valour. Qualities that he displayed gallantly within his missions with the SAS, Commandos and Marines. He had been where his operatives now sat and understood their thoughts, feelings and fears. As a result he was extremely sympathetic to his men, he yet again smiled and continued his briefing:

“Objectives are simple, Firstly we maybe deployed to gather any and all intelligence on the ground, raging from defences to economic hubs hereby referred to as Objective A, Secondly we maybe deployed to achieve Objective A along with the extraction of a captured rebel leader known as Marshal Lurdan Huszar
whom we believe is being handled at a military installation within the Capital herby referred to as Objective B. Lastly we could be deployed to achieve both objectives along with potential battle space preparation objective if shit it’s the fan and the council decide to deploy the Flyboys, Navy boys and Tommy boys in a full scale offensive”

The Major looked around what he was asking was considerable amount from a company of a mere 200 Special Forces Operatives, consequently the look of anxiety showed:

“I know its a lot but we are only the first deployment that may or may not be deployed, depending on how things pan out I don’t doubt additional forces will be deployed to support us. I can tell you the entire of 101 Commando is being briefed on this along with, 21st Marine Raiders, 5th Special Mobility Group as well as considerable Air and Naval Assets, so don’t panic. Now myself and VSIS Command Intelligence Unit (CIU) Agent James Robinson will brief you individually on each objective”

Major Francis Garvey beamed warmly fully aware of his operatives anxieties however he would reassure because unlike other Special Forces the Major would deploy on the ground with his men, fight along and die along side them if required. As a tense silence settled across them Personal Attache to the Director of Intelligence, Agent James Robinson stepped forward out of the darkness and to the podium, deeply respected by the Special Forces as a whole, let alone A Company of 101 Commando. Agent Robinson used to be part of A Company until he was selected for his current position by Supreme General George Hammond, for his sheer genius abilities in a variety of fields along with his unshakable loyalty to Vetaka and its policies. Agent Robinson smiled before beaming:

“Chaps nice to see you all, so straight down to business, The Fascist Federation of Grand World Order, known as “Nation G” from now on, is one……..”

Briefing Room, Vetakan Defence Force Naval Ship (VDFNS) Taaren Forthrion, Queen Mary Class Guided Missile Destroyer, Haven West Ocean, 400 Nautical Miles from Grand World Order:

Captain Richard Chatham and his senior staff relaxed sheepishly in executive leather chairs gathered around a circular table which at its centre had a pulsating 3D Screen that currently showed the vessels strategic position in relation to other vessels, weather fronts, land masses, radar readings and other important factors. 3D screen also showed the ships current and projected course along with its speed and alert status. The idea was that whilst within Senior Staff were in a meeting they could still have some idea of what the ship was doing in their absence from operational duty. The Briefing Room at its head had a large HD flat screen mounted to the wall it currently displayed various maps, pictures and information in regards to the Grand World Order, to which the ships VSIS Attaché was using it as an aid in his briefing:

“Nation G’s Capital is a curious little place known as “Magna Polis” located on a artificially built island located on the tip of the Alaskan Archipelago, So as you have probably gathered it truly is a unique place whose geographical factors won’t make Military Operations let alone Special Forces Operations easy”

The Senior Staff nodded in agreement, before the Operations Commander a female Arabic Tribal Vetakan by the name of Asima Fadwa, enquired:

“What assets does VSIS have on the ground?”

The VSIS Attaché an elderly balding Buddhist Tribal Vetakan gent by the name of Hoki Pranidhana, whose voice, mannerisms and personality was etched in peaceful Buddhist Zen Teachings:

“We have a agents within the nation mainly operating with the Capital under various alias’s and disguises, we should if all goes to plan have deployed a 3 man Special Reconnaissance Regiment (SRR) whose mission will be to gather intel specifically on Marshal Lurdan Huszar by dawn tomorrow”

The Senior Staff again nodded before the Captain announced:

“As I’ve said our objectives will be to covertly observe Nation G’s Naval Capacity along with track its Naval Traffic under the pretence of scientific observation of the regions marine ecology, a task that the Foreign Directorate intends to declare to Nation G’s Government, Now Lieutenant Sutherland give me an update on the Archers…..”

Magna Polis, Grand World Order:

Louis-Phillipe-Emadi was a hard nosed, hard talking Canadian from Montreal, Canada , he was around 6ft, incredibly muscular, with brown spiky hair and piercing green eyes he was extremely attractive and was known for his perhaps over indulgence in women. Louis had arrived within the Fascist Federation of the Grand World Order just last night representing an international investment banking corporation known as “Toronto Banking Inc”. He was here with the objective to seek out new investments for his corporation, well that was his official task and that was what his visa and documents stated. Unofficially Louis-Philipe was a Vetakan Security and Intelligence Service (VSIS) Operative furthermore “Toronto Banking Inc” whilst a fully functioning, totally transparent business entity was in actual fact a VSIS front organization that officially had no links to the Vetakan Intelligence Agency even to the merciless investigator “Toronto Banking Inc” had no links to VSIS with the exception of one man with 70% of the corporations shares working deep undercover on the Incorporates Board of Directors its Director of Human Resources to be precise, quietly he directed its policies and its recruitment.

Louis currently relaxed in one of Magna Polis bars he kept himself to himself with the dank bar and watched the people around him, Louis stood out from the rest of the bars occupants his perfectly ironed, stylish black, Dolce and Cabana suit as did his HTC Black PDA. Louis nursed his whisky on the rocks and kept a firm hand close to his suited holstered FN Five Seven Semi Automatic Pistol. Louis spoke a variety of languages as a result for now on his first night within Magna Polis, Louis would keep himself to himself and listen out for potential leads.

The Liberty Confederate spoke a warning slowly. "That sort of talk can get you beaten halfway to death out here..."

Rizzo frowned slightly, if this man was CCU then surely this was a warning that meant 'say another word and your done'. He glanced at Costa who was glaring at the man who had spoken... or maybe trying to focus on him, it was hard to tell which.
Rizzo took another glance at his half finished drink, he hadn't even gotten though the first one. Never mind.
"Well" He said slowly "Well that's how they work isn't it? Fear. The people are too scared to speak up because they know they will get the shit beaten out of them" He took a long swig of his drink

Rizzo frowned slightly, if this man was CCU then surely this was a warning that meant 'say another word and your done'. He glanced at Costa who was glaring at the man who had spoken... or maybe trying to focus on him, it was hard to tell which.
Rizzo took another glance at his half finished drink, he hadn't even gotten though the first one. Never mind.
"Well" He said slowly "Well that's how they work isn't it? Fear. The people are too scared to speak up because they know they will get the shit beaten out of them" He took a long swig of his drink

"Mmm, that's correct."

The CCU car dispatched to the scene was pulling up directly in front of the bar. The Confederate glanced over with a slightly agitated look on his face. He stood up and withdrew himself from the table, aiming to blend in with the crowd while moving towards the door. Two CCU officers were seen getting out of the just arriving patrol car. The arrival was very easy to spot, as the lights emanating from the top of the car reflected into the establishment. Faint radio calls radiated from the CCU personnel. "Unit Ten-657 announcing arrival to possible scene of dissent within City Sector 77, repeat, announcing arrival to possible SOD within CS77," stated one of the officers before an automated-sounding feminine voice replied, "Repeat unit number, please..."

The officers were flat out intimidating. They wore MICH-looking helmets coupled with gas masks that appeared to be M40 FPMs. Their belts showed plenty of equipment; both had MP7 sub machine guns and MI-P57 handguns. Furthermore, each had two batons. One was a three-foot long standard "Alabama Lie Detector", while the other was about a foot long with a series of probes on the end. Everyone knew that these could generate up to 950,000 volts of electricity, which was far more than enough to send anyone to the ground. The officers wore what appeared to be MOLLE vests, only without armor plates inserted. "M.P.C.C.U." was printed on the front of the vest and right above each officer's eyes in white lettering, while "C.C.U." was printed on the back of their vest. Silver badges were attached to the left breast's pouch pocket. On their arms, the officers had both the GWO flag and the MPCCU Patch sewn onto them. The MPCCU Patch showed the Spire ascending over the city, with two ribbons, one on top, one on bottom. The top said "Magna Polis Civilian Control Unit", while the bottom said "The Guardians of His City."

As the officers moved in, water dripped from their uniforms. They slowly made their way through the crowd towards the front, where the two possible dissenters were.

Rizzo took once glance at the CCU officers and swore under his breath.
“C'mon, Get up you drunk bastard, we gotta go” He hissed at his comrade while putting one of the man's arms around his shoulder and heaving him to his feet. Bastard is completely off his head. Rizzo tried to leave with the crowd, but progress was slow. Stupid, stupid stupid, why did I let him get so damn drunk!?
He knew he was not going to make it out of the building without being caught.

A digitized shout came from one of the officers, shouting "You there! Citizen! Halt!" while pulling out his three-foot "Lie Detector." The other officer was flipping on his Electrobaton, sending visible electricity through the head of the device. The officers stood firm in a prepared-to-strike stance. The drunk would probably require the Electrobaton, but the sober man would possibly go down with the standard baton.

And the Confederate was nowhere to be seen.

The officers ran forward, "Spearing" the suspects towards the ground (Bit of godmoding, but me and TB have something planned out). Quickly, they began fastening handcuffs to the men. A bystander shouting "Fucking thugs!" at the officers before the sickening thud of a baton followed by a crackling sound accompanied the sight of the bystander hitting the ground. Another handcuff set was being slapped on him. The three were taken out to the patrol car...

Five minutes later

The car stopped in front of an alleyway before the officers simultaneously got out of the car. They opened the rear doors before pulling the men out, setting them against a wall in the alleyway (After a quick flashlight check to make sure nothing was hiding in there.)

One of the officers took his gas mask off, revealing a balaclava concealing his face. His voice would be unfiltered now, however. "Got' dahmn Pinko bastuhds!" he shouted, in a sort of Scottish accent. The accent wasn't the most common in the GWO, but it certainly was widespread. The famous GWO fighter pilot, Shady Nyblade's, wingman has a Scottish-Cockney mix accent. Of course, most GWO citizens spoke with a sort of sinister tone, mixed with a rather intellectual accent. Charisma was never short in the GWO.

"What was that aboot, tryin' ta' staht a Got dahm uprising, huh?" he shouted before swinging full force into the lineup. "Blutty pinkos.."

The beatings continued. However, a feeling of a higher power watching could be felt by the three victims...

Sector 77, Magna Polis, Grand World Order:

Louis watched the appearance of the "Civilian Control Units" or "his guardians" with much interest. They seemed more like wanna be Robocops than the Grand World Orders SS like security forces. The appearance within the bar seemed to arose pure fear in the hearts of its occupants and owners people either quickly left, fell silent, or simply moved all of their concentration onto the drink or state newspaper before them. Louis did the same he tried not to draw to much attention to himself by gazing upon the glass of whisky before him, whilst doing so however he did try to listen out to the Robocops and any radio signals he could.

As they began to move through the crowd towards the bar, Louis trained in counter surveillance, investigative surveillance and human psychology noticed that 3 men whom had initially been conversing had separated whilst two remained at the bar looking rather drunk the third seemed to "disappear" in the crowd. Louis watched him make for the door before slowly slipping out of it, something about the chap just wasn't right. For starters his actions as opposed to socially random were clearly calculated with an objective, his eyes seemed to dart between carving a path in the crowd and observing the CCU Operatives. Louis watched him his orders from VSIS in New Theeb had been to gather intelligence and if possible make contact with any resistance elements. As a result Louis suddenly made his decision, draining his glass of its contents he slammed it down, left a few coins on the table as a tip to the barkeep and left the bar. Out on the street he looked left and right and managed to catch his target down the road. Weaving in and out of the people he tried to maintain a safe distance but at all times keep the man firmly in his sights. It was quite hard given how busy the street was and the weather if he dropped back to far Louis would simply lose him in the rain, mist and fog.

OOC: GWO mind if my man makes contact with the Confederates?

((OOC: The Confederate at the bar will be back with a scene, don't worry.))

The beatings had only been going on for a few minutes but to the victims it seemed to last much longer and even drunken Costa seemed to have given up trying to fight back, it was no use, fighting back, not while handcuffed and unarmed. Rizzo had known from the beginning that this would probably end up happening but that did not make the experience any more bearable and with every blow it became harder to think straight, at this point Rizzo did not know whether he would live or die...

The CCU officers were giggling with every strike, swinging harder, faster, and in more vulnerable areas. Then perhaps one of the loudest sounds any of the people there had ever heard cracked through the air. The wall was covered with bits of gray matter and skull pieces before one of the officers (The Scottish-sounding one) fell to the floor. Blood was already mixing into the rainwater. A couple of seconds after the shot rang out, a loud beeping sound was screeching from the officer's mask before the PA system's feminine automated voice stated that "A Red-Code Lockdown has been declared in your area. All Citizens are asked to cease activity and comply with all Civilian Control orders. Repeat, a Red-Code Lockdown is now in effect." Meanwhile, both CCU radios were receiving dispatch reports, with a similar voice as the PA system. "Nine-eighty-seven at City Sector 77, all units respond and investigate, Code Three."

The other officer had taken cover behind a dumpster, drawing his MP7 at the same time. "Officer down in City Sector 77, requesting immediate assistance, Code Three! Nine-eighty-seven, nine-eighty seven!" The officer peeked around the corner, letting a stream of his MP7 out at the source of the shooting before several automatics tore through his armor. The same beeping noise came from his gas mask.

At the other end of the alley stood what appeared to be a gang drab in brown and tan trench coats, what looked like PH Helmets (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/92/Gas_Mask_1915_RCR_Museum.JPG), and old Russian Army helmets with Red Stars printed on the forehead. Three men were in front of the others (Out of what appeared to be at least fifteen), two in tanish coats, one in a brown coat. The streetlights reflected off of the brown-coat's weapon as he put it away: A .50AE Desert Eagle. The other two men still had their weapons raised, both weapons being AK-74Us. Several beams of light emitting from the "gang's" flashlights showed the grotesque scene; one CCU officer with his brain splattered against a brick wall, and another lying in a pool of blood against a dumpster.

A man moved up from the rear with bolt cutters before snapping off the handcuffs. "We had better get a move on, there's at least a battalion of Civcon enforcers headed our way with APCs."

((OOC: My nation is hyper-capitalist, Vetaka, we don't believe in state-run news, just state-mandated news given by private corporations.))

Rizzo squinted at the arrivals, it took a while to register in his numb mind but when he saw the red star on their helmets a small thought seemed to pop into his head; were these the LC?
One of the men removed the cuffs from the former-captives. Rizzo staggered to his feet and after a few seconds pause while he waited for a dizzy spell to clear helped Costa to his feet, only just hearing the man speak
"We had better get a move on, there's at least a battalion of Civcon enforcers headed our way with APCs."
He followed the men out of the alley, maybe they were LC, maybe they were not but anywhere was better than that alley where the dead man lay and memories that had been buried srated to reawaken...

The man armed with the Desert Eagle somewhat shouted (His voice was a bit muffled by his crude gas mask), "Sound familiar?"

It was the same man they had met in the bar minutes before.

"Douglas Witherspoon, Liberty Confederation Captain. Now, come with us or we'll shoot you," he stated with a chuckle. The third man from the bar was terrified; he had went out to the bar for a typical drink, but now had ended up in the middle of a Liberty Confederation-CCU murder story. In the atmosphere, legions of sirens were screaming towards the scene, easily overpowering the sound of the heavy rain. The pointman (Armed with a "Snubber" shotgun manufactured by E.G.W.M.C. for civilian use, but had a military value) motioned with his hand for everyone to hide, and in unison, the LC troops ducked into corners, behind shrubs/bushes, and behind anything near them. Some of the men were ex-soldiers who served before the GWO became a Fascist state. A Grizzly APC rolled by with red and blue lights piercing the fog. Two CCU patrol cars were following it. A few seconds later, and the sound of boots clopping against the ground could be heard. "Ah shit, they're making their checkpoint here. This is going to be tricky," muttered one of the men. "Over here, manhole. Be quiet about it, too."

One of the rebels silently moved to open the manhole, but another "Clack" pierced the sound of the rain. The enlisted LC rebel went down with the first shot; the light Kevlar vests most LC troops wore were simply no match for the GWO's weapons. Various shouts could be heard, and around 20 CCU officers (All but a couple of them in "Heavy" uniforms) were rushing their way. A hail of gunfire was being thrown at the group of Confederates, hitting two more men. "Hell, we're fucked!" shouted one of the Confederates. The group quickly returned fire to cover their retreat, praying to God that another Grizzly wasn't on its way. As the rebels ran, a CCU motorcycle had entered the scene. The officer in the sidecar quickly began sending a stream from his MG42. One of the officers moving up stopped at the first Confederate, kicked his helmet off, and stomped on the man's head with enough force to send yummy brainbits flying around the street. "Pick up a damn AK, make yourselves useful!" shouted Witherspoon, leaning against a short wall as a 5.7mm bullet sent concrete flying about.

Through the chaos Rizzo heard the instructions and picked up two AKs, throwing one to Costa and using the other hhimself he darted for cover.
The hail of bullets slamming into the wall he was taking cover behind, occasionally he would hear someone yell out in pain but he never looked to see who it was everything passed too quickly and all he could do was fight. Fight and retreat. Retreat with the rest away from the grizzly and the onsurge of CCU officers. The Officers armor was thick and the bullets seemed to have little to no effect so whenever he could, Rizzo concentrated his fire on the face areas, all the while trying to avoid the seemingly endless rain of bullets. He had only ever been in a situation similar to this once... Loahend all those years ago. He felt a rage inside which overcame the dull dumbness he had been feeling before. All fascists were the same, wether from TBS or GWO it did not matter to Rizzo he just wanted them dead. He continued his attack with a new anger, all the while retreating with the rebels trying to find a way out...

The LC group's machine gunner mounted his PK machine gun on a low wall to keep the CCU officers pinned while the LC group ran to cover. The CCU MG42 fixed his sights on the man before a .357 hollowpoint ripped through his helmet. The shot had come from an apartment above, a random low-income citizen helping the Confederation. Another Grizzly was showing up, but the manhole had been opened and Confederates were pouring in. The PK gunner fell as a 30-06 round from an MI-8A2 in 30-06 BR configuration punctured his lung. The sound of his sucking chest wound was audible from several yards away.

"Go, go, into the hatch n-" the Confederate didn't finish as a 7.62mm rifle round stuck him in the neck.

In the sewers, the rainwater was causing a semi-strong flow. However, they were definitely safer from the Civilian Control Unit. The Captain led the group through the sewer system, making sure to listen for anything else that might be crawling about. In some GWO cities, Grups and other mutants traversed the sewers. Of course, Magna Polis was certified as Mutant-Free, so the Liberty Confederation essentially could claim the sewers as their own.

Above the ground, the sound of AH-1Z Viper helicopters could be heard. Had the team stayed around, the helicopters would have made short work of them (Especially with the machine gunner killed).

"Cell house should be around here somewhere. The sewers allow for easy transport, as you don't have those damn cybertags and sector gates to deal with. Plus, Civcon doesn't come down here very often."

Sector 77, Magna Polis, Grand World Order:

Louis had lost him, the gent had rounded a corner and the man had simply disappeared, Louis looked around the chap he had been following had either clocked Louis trailing him and disappeared into a nearby building or he had boarded a vehicle. Louis resultantly slumped against a wall somewhat dejectedly he watched the world go by and even managed a crafty look at his OBSAT encrypted VSIS which secretly connected him to his Superiors and a vast amount of constantly updated information regarding his personal mission and Vetaka ‘s wider strategic activities in the area. Louis was about to make the trip to his hotel (if GWO has them) when he heard the faint sounds of gunfire before wall mounted speakers burst into life with:

"A Red-Code Lockdown has been declared in your area. All Citizens are asked to cease activity and comply with all Civilian Control orders. Repeat, a Red-Code Lockdown is now in effect."

Whilst the people around him came to a halt and seemed to look around for orders, Louis moved quickly down the street weaving in and out of the people towards the sound of the gunfire. Whilst he moved at all times he kept his right hand under his trench coat wrapped around his Pistol ready to draw it, eventually after a few minutes he rounded a corner to see a small battle ensuing between what was obviously the Confederates and Civilian Control Units. Louis instantly took cover behind a trash can, drew his FN Five Seven Semi Automatic Pistol and listened out to the people just a few metres before him he heard the exchanges of the confederates along with painful screams as CCU Fire took them down. Louis immediately analysed his situation this was perhaps his best lead and if he lost it he was quite fucked over, furthermore if he allowed them to go the CCU would only arrest him when they secured the area. As a result Louis made his decision snapping the safety off his pistol he moved from cover and opened fire upon the CCU sending two rounds speeding towards each of them, not stopping he kept moving until he reached the confederates where upon arrival he picked up the AK of a dead confederate and knelt down keeping up a heavy amount of cover fire as he did so he roared:

“Hey erm Take me to Your Leader, I suppose…. You better hurry up the heli is making another past”

As he spoke he jumped down into the sewer to avoid being picked off by the Viper and the CCU.

(OOC: Sorry about that -_-)

The whole fight had passed in a blur and looking back Rizzo found it hard to remember what had really happened above ground. He fell into step with a rather shaken Costa, the fight and beating had had a sobering effect on him and he seemed able to think clearly again. They followed the Confederates in silence as they made their way through the dark, winding sewers. Though they were below the city, the muffled sound of helicopters could still be heard even over the sound of the gushing water. After a few minutes of walking in silence one of the confederates spoke

"Cell house should be around here somewhere. The sewers allow for easy transport, as you don't have those damn cybertags and sector gates to deal with. Plus, Civcon doesn't come down here very often."
Rizzo didn't say anything, still too stunned to speak. He was not normally like this but the whole incident. The beating, the desperate fight all seemed so familiar yet strange at the same time.

The Confederate Captain came to a stop, aiming his flashlight against the wall. A swastika was spraypainted on the wall. He calmly strode up to the wall before pressing a brick into it. A small beam of light came out of the wall, and after a few whispers, the wall swung away from the sewer to expose five more Confederates, most of them pulling on a rope attached to a pulley to get the door opened. After everyone was inside, the men swung the door shut and placed the brick back in its original spot. "Genius, eh? Who would ever suspect a swastika as a secret Confederate sign?"

One of the Confederates in the building was wearing a Hawaiian t-shirt and shorts as a joke, creating a comical contrast between his PH-Russian Helmet headgear and his unfitting clothing.

The Captain stopped, dismissing the LC soldiers. "This is one of our cellhouses. Upstairs, you will find that it is supposed to be a low-quality Housing Project. However, this clearly will be revealed as untrue as you explore the rooms here. You will find armories, infirmaries, planning rooms, barracks, and even shooting ranges with soundproofing installed. There is one major rule though; Nobody goes out through the front door if they've been tagged by the Malefactors ((GWO Government)). Nobody goes outside with exposed equipment, either. The blinds and curtains are to be shut at all times. Voices are to be kept low except for civilian talk, or if you're in a soundproofed room. And there is to be absolutely NO WEAPONS discharged outside of the shooting ranges unless we've got a platoon of Enforcers or Agents barging in here. Comprende?"

The Captain took off his headgear and let it clumsily fall to the floor. "Also, we've got sympathetic civilians in here. Don't harass them, understood? You treat them well. We act as a sort of police force in places we control; these people trust us more than they trust those goddamn thugs..."

Witherspoon got a look on his face quickly that looked as if he had just been scolded by his mother. "Entschuldigung, I forgot to ask who I'm speaking to."

Sector 77, Magna Polis, Grand World Order, Secret Confederate Cell House:

Louis was very impressed by the resourcefulness of the Confederates, he was reminded of his own time as an insurgent deep in the heart of New Helgan, Vetaka's second largest city during its occupation by the British during the Civil War. As they moved through the Swastika encrusted door into the confederate safe house Louis disarmed the Ak-47 removing the clip he handed it to a nearby confederate whilst smiling sweetly he calmly spoke:

"Mighty Fine Weapon, Needs a clean tho, if you bring me a kit ill be happy to do it"

Without waiting for a reply he quickly followed Witherspoon on the tour as he moved he reloaded his FN Silenced Pistol and fitted the safety catch before replacing it in his holster. Eventually Witherspoon came to a halt and enquired as to the identities of Louis and the other two gents whom seemed to of got up in the battle they both looked worse for wear as a result Louis decided to grant them some restbite. As such Louis smiled stepped forward and knelt on one knee is head bowed, once in position he whispered the words:

"I bow to no man but I bow to you, Sir"

Rising to his full height he took Witherspoons hand and shook it warmly and firmly before again whispering:

"I am Louis-Phillipe, I cannot reveal the true nature of my business here as we are not in a "secure soundproofed" area, however needless to say I am a friend whom has a come here from a distant land with the intent to support your cause. I will be happy to enlighten you as to my business here once in more secure surroundings"

Louis allowed his words to register before continuing:

"These gentleman unfortunately are new to me as well as you, needless to say they look rather worse for wear"

Louis stepped back and looked around a number of confederates had appeared all armed, all watching and waiting. These people whilst good people whom treated their guests well were of course concerned for their security for all these people knew Louis and the other "guests" could be CCU Operatives and Agents. As a result Louis moved to a nearby table and disarmed himself he could feel the Confederates eyes and trigger fingers trained upon him, Placing his FN Five Seven Semi Automatic Pistol, additional Pistol Magazines, his OBSAT Encrypted HTC PDA, his Titanium Rolex Watch, his Titanium Parker Pen, his Small Pocket Maglite, his Titanium Windproof Lighter and finally a small Titanium USB Device upon the table once complete he removed his now drenched black trench coat and placed it at the end of the table so it draped over both sides, once complete he turned to view the Confederates his hands spread apart slightly his expression emotionless:

"A sign of my trust in you, Sir"

Vetakan Defence Force Naval Ship (VDFNS) Taaren Forthrion, Queen Mary Class Guided Missile Destroyer, Haven West Ocean, 51 Nautical Miles from the Nautical Boundary of The Grand World Order:

The blast doors of the joint Bridge-Operations Room slide open and Captain Richard Chatham slipped into the thriving room as he entered the Watch Officer, Operations Commander “XO” Asima Fadwa called out to the staff:

“Captain on Bridge”
Chatham smiled as Fadwa beamed at him, the two had initially been hospitable to each other at the start of the tour as Fadwa had initially been a Captain whom had been de promoted due to what the Admiralty had defined as an “issue of transparency and ethics”. Chatham whilst initially annoyed at the Admiralty for lumbering him with a “rouge officer” had come to deeply respect his XO and although unknown to her personally intended to request her reinstatement as a Captain to Supreme Admiral Charles Hornblower back at the Admiralty in New Theeb. Fadwa swiftly saluted her superior before beginning her shifts report:

“We are within 50 Miles of the nautical boundary of the Grand World Order and thus are 30 miles from our target, as of yet we have not observed any GWO Asset but we are almost certain that we have aroused suspicion. They admiralty orders us to maintain current course, speed, heading, orders and follow relevant procedures”.

The Captain swiftly returned the salute before announcing:

“Thank You XO, Helm maintain course and speed come to all stop and way anchor at the target co-ordinates. Inform Warrant Officer Kay to begin his mission once we have come to full stop, tell him to make it looking fucking authentic even though they are marines I still want them to look like Marine Biologists”

“Sir” replied Ops Commander Fadwa as she reached for a phone.

Officially the Vetakan Destroyer was here carrying a Marine Ecology Team attached to the University of Jaxville whom where conducting a worldwide study into Marine Biology and the effects world navies have upon them, if the Grand World Order wished to check this all checks would come back positive with results the University of Jaxville along with numerous Novan Universities would confirm the study. The Vetakan Directorate of Foreign Affairs would also confirm the study and the ships mission to the region. Unofficially however the Vetakan Destroyer and its crew where covertly conducting a very covert and classified reconnaissance mission in the region regarding the Grand World Order, its activities, its shipping traffic, air traffic and most interestingly its military activities.

Liberty Confederation Cellhouse

"It's fine, good sir, the weapon shall be sent to the armory. Our comrade there will be more than delighted to clean her up. Keep in mind; a weapon's sanitation isn't easy to maintain in our situation. The sewers are a mucky place, you're bound to get some grime in whatever you're carrying. God, I miss how loose we could be during the Revolt."

Witherspoon could easily put the facts together. Any foreigner carrying the equipment this man was carrying was clearly not a standard guerrilla or rebel. They had to be from a larger entity, a Corporation or a foreign government. He also knew that the man wasn't a GWO Informant, because the government wouldn't be stupid enough to make the man look like one. The black trench coat (A trademark of Commissioned Officers within the Military and Internal Control Department), the expensive equipment, or the apparent training. The government was filled with grandmasters of the art of betrayal. Hell, the main reason Nathan Slusher was killed was because of a damn good informant. Lucky bastard was probably promoted to a Major in the ICD.

"Now, since I don't want the possibility of anyone's cover blown, I am going to require you all to go to the armory and get uniforms for yourselves. Now that you are here, you are stuck within our ranks. Various comrades here will assist you in learning our procedures, and certain ones will offer you further training. Do not underestimate all of us; some of us are former Malefactor soldiers."

Witherspoon himself was one of those ex-soldiers. In the Army, he had served as a Specialist. He didn't have anything really unusual about his record, meaning he didn't have any epiphanies or run-ins with the Federal Guard or Gedanke-Polizei. The only thing he had done was fight in a few campaigns to rescue the survivors of various nuclear attacks- that was the GWO he believed in. After the Putsch, he, like a decent amount of military personnel, had followed Marshal Huszar in his defiance to the newly-declared Grand Commander.

City Sector 77

The Sector was swarmed by CCU officers now, along with a detachment of Federal Guardsmen (National/Military Police). Two men were far from typical rifle-luggers. The first, was Captain Markus Kittiwake, one of the lead men in the MPCCU's counter-terrorism division. The second, was Lieutenant-Colonel Manfred Wallington, a member of the GWO's newest secret police, the Gedanke-Polizei. LtCol. Wallington had to keep a low profile; he was literally a member of one of the GWO's three Secret Police forces. Even Captain Kittiwake only thought he was a typical Federal Guard bigwig. His report to Wallington was as follows, taking place in a soundproofed room within the Mobile Command Center sent to the scene.

"So we've got ten dead Commie bastards... four dead CCU officers, one civilian in custody, and two wounded CCU officers. Clearly, this is a typical Liberty Confederation attack. The uniforms and firearms should say enough, the dead Cruiser team shows that they were ambushed. Same MO. Most likely escaped through the sewers like the dirty fucking rats they are. If you've noticed, sir, there's been a large rise in this sort of violence."

Wallington was cold, emotionless. He was the stereotypical Secret Policeman, always acting like he didn't give a rat's ass about anything. Just like the Grand Commander, he was too caught up in calculations and intelligence to have room for morals and emotions. "So clearly, they're planning something regarding the recent capture of Huszar - the traitor scumbag -, possibly like what they did before they killed our last Grand Commander. Only this time, it'll be focused in one area. Of course, the Grand Commander was smart enough to deploy several regiments to the area around Huszar's prison. Of course, I don't see why he doesn't just send the traitor to hell right now."

(OOC: Damn, I have got to stop doing that, note to self, only read this thread on this account
btw, Don't want to use the quote function as it takes up too much space so I'm putting quotes in Bold)

The tour was impressive all right, the Confederates were obviously incredibly resourceful and smart, and Rizzo could not help but be impressed. It went to show that no matter how efficient a corrupt regime such as the one that plagued the Grand World Order, people would still be able to overcome it. As the tour drew to and end, Witherspoon turned to face them a slightly pained expression on his face.
"Entschuldigung, I forgot to ask who I'm speaking to."
The man who had appeared during the fight and followed them down here was the first to speak
"I am Louis-Phillipe, I cannot reveal the true nature of my business here as we are not in a "secure soundproofed" area, however needless to say I am a friend whom has a come here from a distant land with the intent to support your cause. I will be happy to enlighten you as to my business here once in more secure surroundings"

Louis allowed his words to register before continuing:

"These gentleman unfortunately are new to me as well as you, needless to say they look rather worse for wear"
“Fabio Rizzo, and this” He waved a hand at Costa “This is Darin Costa” Rizzo hoped that he would not have to mention the fact he was an agent, his mission was solely to help rescue Marshal Huszar and he did not need them knowing he was sent by a country whom, if they know of at all, would only remember as having been invaded at some point.

Liberty Confederation Cellhouse, Sector 77, Magna Polis, Grand World Order:

Louis listened to Whitherspoon intently and the other two gents intently, he understood what Witherspoon was saying and he understood the Confederates concerns. Prior to the formation of modern Vetaka within the Civil War the nation was under occupation by the Swanist British which resulted in a Freedom Party led insurgency against the British waged primarily from small bases such as the Liberty Cellhouse. Gathering his equipment together, Louis nodded in agreement with Whitherspoon and proceeded to follow one of his men to the armoury before looking back and whispering:

“I require an audience with you or your superiors as soon as operationally possible in secure surroundings, I have much to inform you of. Especially regarding your Marshal Huszar, his detention and approaching execution”

With that Louis bowed his head and made his way towards the armoury, where he would gather whatever uniform could be provided.

Operations Room 2, Sub Surface Floor 1, South Tower, St Edwards Complex, General Headquarters of Vetakan Security and Intelligence Service (VSIS), New City, New Theeb, Southern Vetaka:

Operations Room 2 or simply “Ops 2” was located on the first sub surface floor of the South Tower and was currently tasked with monitoring VSIS activities within the Grand World Order or its codename “Nation G”. The large blast doors of the Ops Room simply read “Ops Room 2, Nation G, Classified, Authorised Access Requested”. Inside the Ops 2 it was like most Command & Control Rooms of the Vetakan Defence Forces dominated by a large HD Plasma screen at the foot of the building which displayed various bits of information and data regarding the mission. Dotted around the room where various desks complete with phones. small HD screened personal computers and executive leather chairs. At the centre was an oak table with various leather bound reports marked “Classified”, “Vetakan Security and Intelligence Service (VSIS)” and “The Civil Directorate of Foreign Affairs” strewn across it. The room was inhabited by around 9 black business suited people of various cultures, genders and backgrounds all of whom had VSIS biometric identification cards wih various security clearances attached to their bodies. They had their heads dipped in reports, tended to their PC’s or were in quiet conversation. One of a young Sikh gent of around 22 observed his monitor intently before calling out, across the room:

“Sir”

A Muslim gent across the room whom had taken his blazer off and positioned on the back of a chair looked around and made his way to the Sikh as he moved his holstered SP-45 Pistol kicked slighty against his brother. As he arrived at the young Sikh’s station he smiled and enquired:

“What is it Mr Bachint?”

Bachint looked up and proceeded to speak whilst he did so he moved his HD monitor so the new arrival could view it more easily:

“This is footage from one of our Spy Satellites monitoring Magna Polis, it was doing its usual sweep over Agent 5’s PDA. Interesting as you can see”

The footage on the screen a first just showed a red dot marked “Agent 5” followed by rapidly adjusting exact co-ordinates move across the screen at pace. Down a projected street on a projected map as he did so a large red image of a Viper Helicopter moved across it at speed. The Musilm Chap looked surprised by it, and nervously asked:

“You reckon he has been compromised?

Bachint shook his head and replied:

“I do not believe so, the helicopters heat and radar signatures match that of an AH-1Z Viper Helicopter moving at speed on an attack run. However the agent or his PDA goes sub surface and moves away from the “incident” at speed, suggesting not”

The Musilm nodded intently before replying quite sternly:

“Good Work Mr Bachint, ill inform CIU immediately, See what you can dig up on the next orbit, unfortunately CIU won’t authorize live surveillance just yet”

Cell House

Witherspoon had a hunch of who these people were, but of course, he couldn't call everyone he met a foreign spy. He led them to the armory, passing several Confederates wielding many Kalishnikov variants. The armory had bins, buckets, boxes, and crates filled with various equipments. Each piece of equipment had its own container. As everyone could see, there was more than enough for the troops stationed here. The weapons themselves were also in crates, behind a table where the armory caretaker stood. He was a somewhat chubby man with short, messy black hair. The crates behind him had notecards attached to them saying what was in each one. There was essentially every type of Kalashnikov stored there, along with PKs, RPDs, Dragunovs, Uzis, GR-1s (Former GWO rifles used in the Salvation Wars and the Foundings), MP5s, G3s, Grozas, a small amount of M-16A3s, and RPKs. Three RPGs stood in a corner, a few feet away from a crate marked "Dirty/Messed Up Guns" with a sad face under it. Since the room was supposed to be a living space, there were many rooms, but they were all behind the table. These rooms were where the Armorer did his work while he wasn't busy issuing guns to fellow rebels. Another Confederate stood near the doorway, making sure that nobody tried to take equipment without registering it.

After the men had selected their weapons, Witherspoon immediately ordered them to follow him. He led them past the infirmary, where moans and yelling medics and doctors were audible in the hallway. The patients were away from the doorway in other rooms to make sure other soldiers didn't see them. When they arrived at their destination, Witherspoon opened the door while leaning on it. Inside, several more men in tan trench coats and officer hats were discussing something in front of a map of the entire district where Huszar was being kept. A few troops sat at makeshift privacy booths, monitoring radio channels, which was shown by the different types of radios sitting in front of them on their tiny desks. On one side, they were monitoring channels where the Cellhouse's scouts were reporting GWO movements close to the building. On the main table of the room, a radio sat. This was what other Cellhouses used to communicate with this one. On the other side of the room, men were listening in on the CCU's radio network, which had been proven "Unhackable by anything other than an actual military." This was for the most part true, but that didn't mean that the Liberty Confederation couldn't steal the Communications Rigs off of killed or incapacitated CCU officers.

One of the most striking things, however, was the presence of soldiers in a completely different uniform. These men were in heavy-looking suits of modern ballistic armor, complete with composite face plates, et cetera. On the front of their chestplates was a Red Star with "Специальные группы" printed on it, arching above the star. They were Liberty Confederation Special Purpose Units, based on the Special Purpose Regiments of the Soviet Union (Spetznaz). Their faces were only silhouettes, thanks to their face gear.

"This is our control center, and this is a secured room. If you have anything to say, now is the time."

Under Magna Polis

Captain Kittiwake and LtCol. Wallington had begun to prowl the sewers, looking for any signs of the Confederate escape. They were escorted by a collection of CCU officers and Federal Guardsmen. Several beams of light penetrated the darkness, though the Federal Guard masks could easily amplify the lighting for the wearers. The GWO was catching up...

Liberty Confederation Cellhouse, Sector 77, Magna Polis, Grand World Order:

Louis-Philip nodded and straightened up slightly, he moved around the room slowly looking at the various equipment, radios and files dotted around the room. For the first time Louis seemed truly serious and stern before his attitude whilst concentrated and focused seemed etched in a smile. Now however he seemed cold and calculating his eyes seemed to sweep the room constantly, looking at the guards, holstered weapons and exits. Eventually he cleared his throat before looking Whiterspoon square in the eye and started to whisper:

“My name as you know is Louis-Phillipe, officially I am here on business for an organization called “Toronto Banking” looking to invest considerable amounts of money into the GWO. A lot of the Fascist officials seem easily swayed by laundered Universal State Dollars. I was able to get hold of more or less anything I needed and the nature of my business seemed to mean that most officials left me alone.”

Louis stopped whilst picking up an unloaded AK-47 Kalashnikov, he played with its safety catch before training it upon the dirty floor and looking down the barrel. After a few seconds he muttered something to the armourer:

“Does it have a name? Its sight is not in line with its barrel, do you have a kit?”

The Armourer pointed to a nearby table, whilst Louis continued:

“Unofficially and strictly off the record I am Louis Phillipe Emadi of Vetakan Security and Intelligence Service’s Insurgence Political Intelligence Unit (VSISIPIU) whether you’re aware of the nation of Vetaka and its activities or not is irrelevant. What is relevant is that Vetaka and more to the point VSIS is aware of the Grand World Order and more to the point the Liberty Confederation and perhaps most importantly for you the charismatic leader of the Confederation Marshal Lurdan Huszar”

As Louis spoke he sat down at the table and systematically began to dismantle the rifle piece by piece and clean each piece, he treated each piece with care and pride:

“Officially the Vetakan Tribal Council is maintaining a stance of none intervention in regards to the Fascist Federations war with Stoklomolvi and its coalition. Officially the Tribal Council whilst concerned and in protest of just about every domestic activity and foreign policy the Fascist Federation is undertaking, is maintaining an official diplomatic act of protest for now. Unofficially however Vetaka is extremely interested and extremely eager to support what we are calling the “true hope”. My people are a race of peaceful warriors whom abide by the laws and ideologies of Truth, Honour, Respect, Brotherhood and above all Loyalty, Hence we are known as the Forces of Loyalty internationally.”

Louis retrieved a cleaning rod and inserted it within the barrel and chamber cleaning it furiously he smiled slightly as he did retracted and continued:

“I assume you have your own sources within the military, If so you will be well aware of the appearance of a Vetakan Destroyer just outside of your waters. If your sources are good they will also inform you that approximately 5 days ago unidentified satellites began to orbit your nation. Bottom line is that whilst at the moment we wish to keep it quiet we wish to provide whatever support we can, firstly by extracting your leader and secondly by providing sufficient intelligence, funds, weapons and eventually well potentially Special Forces, however I cannot act with the full consent of your leadership? My nation operates a strict policy about insurgency, if we were to render aid we do just that render “aid” we wouldn’t be fighting such a war for you. Ultimately it will be you and your people whom would wage it and call the shots, for example you would designate the target we would merely drop the bomb.”

Louis was now rapidly reassembling the rifle before him his hands thick with dirt, grime and oil eventually he smiled and looked up at the armourer, before smiling:

“Don’t suppose you have a suppressor for a FN Five Seven, I left mine at the hotel?”

Rizzo listened to the other agent, his manner was beginning to grind on his nerves, he did not know what it was but something about the man struck him as incredibly arrogant but he did not say anything, instead he looked slowly around the room, taking in all the details. Beside him Costa looked bemused, Rizzo was unsure whether he was acting or still slightly stunned. Hw wondered what was happening to Lora and swore in his head. If they had just been conscripted into this Liberty Confederation they may not be allowed to leave...
“What happens now?” It was a general comment, spoken to the room, he wasn't even sure whether to expect an answer.

Cellhouse Secured Room

"The Revolution accepts all aid, though I cannot personally officiate such things. Since the Marshal is incarcerated, we'll have to rescue him before we can really do anything."

"As for Five-Seven silencers, we have MI-P57 silencers, which should be compatible with the Five Seven. If not, we have a large collection of home-made silencers that will do fine."

"What happens now? We plan, wait, and operate like normal. We have to wait for the specified date, then we will strike. Impatience has ruined more rebellions than any army has. In the meantime, you will be put on basic duties. None of you are to leave the building unless an emergency calls for it. You are dismissed, but may stay if you desire to."

((OOC: Semi-plot twist is coming on the next NS day.))

It had been some time since Rizzo and Costa had been dismissed. Rizzo had been placed on standard security work, which was dull, realtime surveillance always got dull fast. He watched the video-screens in silence as they flicked from camera to camera showing various views. Confederates going about their business, nothing special to report. Normal, or as normal as things could be in the cell house of an antiestablishment rebel group. It was probably an unfair thing, but he sincerely hoped that Costa's job was just as, if not more boring than his but somehow he doubted it, at least when patrolling you got to, well, move instead of just sitting in a room watching screens. He sighed inwardly and continued watching the same repetitive events.