Independent Hitmen
27-01-2009, 19:41
Onboard The Presidential Plane, Boeing 747-400 Tail number 45634
Nearing the capital of Damirez, Mithra
It has been some time since President James W. Anderson had conducted a state visit to anywhere apart from Stevid, the flight there had become almost routine he seemed to have done it so many times and he knew it would be the same for Prime Minister Conroy. So it was a pleasant feeling for him to look out of the window and see something other than sea, in fact it was the outskirts of the Damiran capital city.
James pulled his suit jacket on and retook his seat in the executive compartment. A soft ping came over the intercom system and then the pilot’s voice could be clearly heard throughout the aircraft.
“Mr President, Ladies and Gentlemen this is Colonel Howard in the cockpit, we are beginning our descent. Colonel Johnson will be turning on the seat belt signs in about five minutes and I’d like to ask you to take your seats when he does so. Our touchdown time is estimated to be 1045am local time or for those of us on J City time that’s 0315am.”
Not all the crew and passengers were as lucky as the President and they didn’t all have a King size beds in their cabins, they didn’t even have cabins. But as with most official aircraft the seats were better than First Class on any airline in the world, still the staff grumbled seemingly as if programmed to do so. President Anderson had brought along several high ranking members of the administration and from other aspects of the government and they sat in the area immediately behind the Presidential suite. There were several Congressmen on the foreign relations select committee sitting nearer the back of the aircraft and further forward was the Presidents Chief of Staff, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and the Junior Vice President for External relations. High ranking members of the Presidents staff were onboard as well, along with a heavier than normal complement of Secret Service, Presidential Protection Agents (Special Forces) and Diplomatic Security Agents.
In the President’s cabin he had picked up the phone to call his wife briefly. He was disturbed from hitting the button by a knock on his door and the head of one of the Secret Service Agents on his protective detail appeared at the crack.
“Sir, Mr Chandler would like a minute.”
“Ok send him in Mike.”
The Agent disappeared from the door and his place was taken by a tall, thin blonde man wearing a well tailored suit. The President waved him in and put the phone down.
“Jon, what do you need?”
“Sir, we have a developing situation with ODECON. We’ve got intelligence suggesting that they are gearing up for another attempt at some aggressive stances towards the group of nations we spoke of earlier. Intelligence assets confirm that they may be attempting to use us as cover for their moves.”
“God dammit, this alliance is starting to get on my nerves. What gives them the right to use us as cover for their imperialist domains in case it goes wrong and they start getting stomped on? Is this confirmed?”
“We are awaiting confirmation on some aspects of it Sir, but the intelligence is reliable. It seems that Stevid has also been cited in some of the intercepted text.”
The President pulled a grimace and pushed his chair back against the aircrafts wall.
“Well we will have to deal with ODECON later, for the moment we have this visit to see about. The schedule is confirmed?”
“With a couple of minor alterations that the Secret Service insisted on yes. The breakfast on day two will take place in the rear garden of the Presidents House rather than the dining room and the second night will be spent at the embassy which is hosting a party for the Damiran political elite.”
“Fine. What on Righteous Thunder and Hydra?”
“No reports from Colonel McGruger Sir. Planning is continuing and he will no doubt advise us when they have something new. We are assured that both projects continue as expected though.”
Another soft ping came through the intercom and the small seat belt lights lit up. The President scowled in his normal jokey manner.
“Five minutes my arse. Ok Jon, I need to call the wife. I’ll see you when after we land.”
“Yes Sir. Thank you.”
The Chief of Staff stood and smoothed out his suit jacket before quietly leaving the cabin. Jon Chandler had served as Chief of Staff for only two years, long enough to go through a particularly turbulent war and the resulting peace negotiations, but not long enough to gain the respect of many in the Presidents staff. He knew that some of those were present on the plane; he walked past the small room that was reserved for any of the Junior Vice Presidents who often travelled with the President and looked inside briefly. The man currently occupying it, Christian Polock, was not a fan of his and the feeling was mutual. There was always something suspicious about the man, his background in the intelligence community made him naturally secretive but Jon always suspected his motives were always to increase his share of power and minimise that of the other Junior Vice Presidents.
Jon moved past and took his seat in the next small enclave. He sat near several high ranking military officers that were here for their own talks with their Damiran counterparts and they were all looking out of the windows at the capital city beneath them. Jon turned his head to his window and looked out, it didn’t seem any different to any other city in the civilised world and he doubted the airport that they were heading to looked any different from any other. It was no slur on the Damiran’s, Jon just didn’t appreciate architecture. The new city beneath him that had the officers attention included the huge Sky Towers and had been built from scratch only recently, he heard the officers talking about some form of hovercraft in a huge park but tuned out and continued thinking about the statistics for the upcoming regional elections.
On the flight deck Colonel Howard was pulling the levers to start extending the flaps on the aircrafts huge wings and at the same time the co-pilot Colonel Johnson throttled the four engines back to barely above idle. Neither had time to appreciate the city below as their eyes tracked the identical decoy aircraft a mile in front of him and scanned the skies around them for any other aircraft. The aircraft in front dipped down quickly as it began the last stage of its descent, always conducted in a quick final descent from 8,000 feet to the ground that meant the aircraft used most of the available runway space because of the added speed on touchdown. Colonel Howard heard the Air Force controller on the ground give the correct identification codes and he gently pushed the yoke down, lowering the nose towards the ground and the clearly visible runway. As the aircraft crossed the perimeter fence Howard pulled the nose up a little more so that the rear wheels hit first and allowed the aircraft to flop down onto the runway. Johnson immediately pulled the throttles into the full reverse position as the rear wheels hit the tarmac and the four J Corp engines came to life and began slowing the aircraft down.
Even with the aircraft still rolling down towards the taxiway Colonel Johnson cued the intercom and announced their arrival to the guests.
“Mr President, Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Damirez. Local time is 1044AM, we hope you had a pleasant flight and we look forward to seeing you again in three days. Thank you.”
In his cabin President Anderson heard the announcement and rose from his seat. The landings always made him feel uncomfortable, but someone had fired an RPG at the aircraft once and so he allowed the Air Force this one indulgence. Someone had also shot him with a sniper rifle as he exited the aircraft before, but he didn’t see anybody wanting to curtail that by making him jump out. As usual there was a knock at the door and five Secret Service Agents entered the room, taking positions around the President as he adjusted his tie. The lead Agent was between the President and the door while two were to his sides and two behind him. Before the aircraft had stopped rolling one of the crew had moved to the side door and was preparing it for opening, with her were six well built men with suits and earpieces. They were all Special Forces troops of the Presidential Protection Detail and would be the team responsible for evacuating him if something went wrong. As soon as they got confirmation that the stairs were in place the team leader nodded to the stewardess and the six men emerged into the sunlight and scuttled down the stairs to the waiting vehicles and further Secret Service Agents. Upon their confirmation that the route was clear the Agents with the President started moving him towards the door.
After his customary glance and words of thanks up the stairs to the flight deck President Anderson looked to his left and raised his eyebrows to the lead Agent who nodded. It was only two steps to the door and the stairs that awaited his journey to yet another new country. A brief wave at the top of the stairs and then he headed down them to the waiting honour guard, red carpet and limousine.
Nearing the capital of Damirez, Mithra
It has been some time since President James W. Anderson had conducted a state visit to anywhere apart from Stevid, the flight there had become almost routine he seemed to have done it so many times and he knew it would be the same for Prime Minister Conroy. So it was a pleasant feeling for him to look out of the window and see something other than sea, in fact it was the outskirts of the Damiran capital city.
James pulled his suit jacket on and retook his seat in the executive compartment. A soft ping came over the intercom system and then the pilot’s voice could be clearly heard throughout the aircraft.
“Mr President, Ladies and Gentlemen this is Colonel Howard in the cockpit, we are beginning our descent. Colonel Johnson will be turning on the seat belt signs in about five minutes and I’d like to ask you to take your seats when he does so. Our touchdown time is estimated to be 1045am local time or for those of us on J City time that’s 0315am.”
Not all the crew and passengers were as lucky as the President and they didn’t all have a King size beds in their cabins, they didn’t even have cabins. But as with most official aircraft the seats were better than First Class on any airline in the world, still the staff grumbled seemingly as if programmed to do so. President Anderson had brought along several high ranking members of the administration and from other aspects of the government and they sat in the area immediately behind the Presidential suite. There were several Congressmen on the foreign relations select committee sitting nearer the back of the aircraft and further forward was the Presidents Chief of Staff, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and the Junior Vice President for External relations. High ranking members of the Presidents staff were onboard as well, along with a heavier than normal complement of Secret Service, Presidential Protection Agents (Special Forces) and Diplomatic Security Agents.
In the President’s cabin he had picked up the phone to call his wife briefly. He was disturbed from hitting the button by a knock on his door and the head of one of the Secret Service Agents on his protective detail appeared at the crack.
“Sir, Mr Chandler would like a minute.”
“Ok send him in Mike.”
The Agent disappeared from the door and his place was taken by a tall, thin blonde man wearing a well tailored suit. The President waved him in and put the phone down.
“Jon, what do you need?”
“Sir, we have a developing situation with ODECON. We’ve got intelligence suggesting that they are gearing up for another attempt at some aggressive stances towards the group of nations we spoke of earlier. Intelligence assets confirm that they may be attempting to use us as cover for their moves.”
“God dammit, this alliance is starting to get on my nerves. What gives them the right to use us as cover for their imperialist domains in case it goes wrong and they start getting stomped on? Is this confirmed?”
“We are awaiting confirmation on some aspects of it Sir, but the intelligence is reliable. It seems that Stevid has also been cited in some of the intercepted text.”
The President pulled a grimace and pushed his chair back against the aircrafts wall.
“Well we will have to deal with ODECON later, for the moment we have this visit to see about. The schedule is confirmed?”
“With a couple of minor alterations that the Secret Service insisted on yes. The breakfast on day two will take place in the rear garden of the Presidents House rather than the dining room and the second night will be spent at the embassy which is hosting a party for the Damiran political elite.”
“Fine. What on Righteous Thunder and Hydra?”
“No reports from Colonel McGruger Sir. Planning is continuing and he will no doubt advise us when they have something new. We are assured that both projects continue as expected though.”
Another soft ping came through the intercom and the small seat belt lights lit up. The President scowled in his normal jokey manner.
“Five minutes my arse. Ok Jon, I need to call the wife. I’ll see you when after we land.”
“Yes Sir. Thank you.”
The Chief of Staff stood and smoothed out his suit jacket before quietly leaving the cabin. Jon Chandler had served as Chief of Staff for only two years, long enough to go through a particularly turbulent war and the resulting peace negotiations, but not long enough to gain the respect of many in the Presidents staff. He knew that some of those were present on the plane; he walked past the small room that was reserved for any of the Junior Vice Presidents who often travelled with the President and looked inside briefly. The man currently occupying it, Christian Polock, was not a fan of his and the feeling was mutual. There was always something suspicious about the man, his background in the intelligence community made him naturally secretive but Jon always suspected his motives were always to increase his share of power and minimise that of the other Junior Vice Presidents.
Jon moved past and took his seat in the next small enclave. He sat near several high ranking military officers that were here for their own talks with their Damiran counterparts and they were all looking out of the windows at the capital city beneath them. Jon turned his head to his window and looked out, it didn’t seem any different to any other city in the civilised world and he doubted the airport that they were heading to looked any different from any other. It was no slur on the Damiran’s, Jon just didn’t appreciate architecture. The new city beneath him that had the officers attention included the huge Sky Towers and had been built from scratch only recently, he heard the officers talking about some form of hovercraft in a huge park but tuned out and continued thinking about the statistics for the upcoming regional elections.
On the flight deck Colonel Howard was pulling the levers to start extending the flaps on the aircrafts huge wings and at the same time the co-pilot Colonel Johnson throttled the four engines back to barely above idle. Neither had time to appreciate the city below as their eyes tracked the identical decoy aircraft a mile in front of him and scanned the skies around them for any other aircraft. The aircraft in front dipped down quickly as it began the last stage of its descent, always conducted in a quick final descent from 8,000 feet to the ground that meant the aircraft used most of the available runway space because of the added speed on touchdown. Colonel Howard heard the Air Force controller on the ground give the correct identification codes and he gently pushed the yoke down, lowering the nose towards the ground and the clearly visible runway. As the aircraft crossed the perimeter fence Howard pulled the nose up a little more so that the rear wheels hit first and allowed the aircraft to flop down onto the runway. Johnson immediately pulled the throttles into the full reverse position as the rear wheels hit the tarmac and the four J Corp engines came to life and began slowing the aircraft down.
Even with the aircraft still rolling down towards the taxiway Colonel Johnson cued the intercom and announced their arrival to the guests.
“Mr President, Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Damirez. Local time is 1044AM, we hope you had a pleasant flight and we look forward to seeing you again in three days. Thank you.”
In his cabin President Anderson heard the announcement and rose from his seat. The landings always made him feel uncomfortable, but someone had fired an RPG at the aircraft once and so he allowed the Air Force this one indulgence. Someone had also shot him with a sniper rifle as he exited the aircraft before, but he didn’t see anybody wanting to curtail that by making him jump out. As usual there was a knock at the door and five Secret Service Agents entered the room, taking positions around the President as he adjusted his tie. The lead Agent was between the President and the door while two were to his sides and two behind him. Before the aircraft had stopped rolling one of the crew had moved to the side door and was preparing it for opening, with her were six well built men with suits and earpieces. They were all Special Forces troops of the Presidential Protection Detail and would be the team responsible for evacuating him if something went wrong. As soon as they got confirmation that the stairs were in place the team leader nodded to the stewardess and the six men emerged into the sunlight and scuttled down the stairs to the waiting vehicles and further Secret Service Agents. Upon their confirmation that the route was clear the Agents with the President started moving him towards the door.
After his customary glance and words of thanks up the stairs to the flight deck President Anderson looked to his left and raised his eyebrows to the lead Agent who nodded. It was only two steps to the door and the stairs that awaited his journey to yet another new country. A brief wave at the top of the stairs and then he headed down them to the waiting honour guard, red carpet and limousine.