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Nuclear Terrorism Scenario:

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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Fri Dec 20, 2013 10:06 am

Westphalia, Karlom-Terevanyia; 0220 Hours

A line of military trucks was parked outside the CAF depot in Westphalia. Stormtroopers marched to and fro, checking tire pressure and making sure none had stowed away on the trucks. A man in a black suit approached with a black leather carpetbag.

"Department of War," the man said, flashing a forged but extremely well-forged DoW badge. The soldiers saluted.

"What can I do for you, sir?"

The man scratched his chin. "Take this bag," he held out the bag, "and put it in Truck 4. Under no circumstances are you to open the bag. Failure to comply will result in court-martial."

"Sir, yes, sir!" The soldiers barked in unison.

The Jungle, near the Nayrin-KT Border; 0600 Hours

The trucks lumbered along the dirt road through the hilly jungles of the northlands. Their engines sputtered and labored in the uphill climb. Light rain was falling, but within fifteen minutes it had become a torrent. The lead driver could hardly see, despite the windshield wipers working away as fast as they could. He didn't see the ground come loose from the mountain to his left until a tree and a wall of mud collided with his truck and sent it off the road and into the basin below. The trucks behind it attempted to grind to a halt, but to no avail as all but three trucks were swallowed by the mudslide. As the fourth truck hit the muddy ground below, diesel began to seep into the damaged engine block and the truck exploded like a firecracker, setting off the device encased in the black leather carpetbag. There was a bright flash...then an explosion large enough to shake ten city blocks.

The Jungle, Near the Nayrin-KT Border; 1300 Hours

By now, several truckfulls of HAZMAT teams had arrived at ground zero. The dirty bomb planted on the truck was set for a high-intensity explosion and a relatively low radiation level with a wide area of effect. The radiation doses were still lethal without HAZMAT gear.

"What do we have?" Asked a man in a black HAZMAT suit that bore the symbol of the War Department.

"It would appear a rather sophisticated dirty bomb, headed for Sonocco. Whoever planted the bomb wanted it detonated in Sonocco."

"Where were they headed?"

"Sonoccan military base near the border."

"Christ..."

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Post by Nayrin Sun Dec 22, 2013 6:43 am

Nayrin Intelligence Agency Headquarters; 0615 Hours
 
“What we’ve managed to ascertain from our sources on the ground and allies in the region regarding the situation is that a hazardous explosive has detonated on the Nayrin/ Karlom- Terevanyian border. The vehicle transporting it was believed to have been en-route to a military base in Sonaco.”
 
“Damn!” shouted Intelligence Minister Yuri Asifkayev, “Do we have any groups claiming responsibility at this point?”
 
“No sir,” a young agency worker shouted back from his work station within the cubicle-filled Agency Headquarters, “No sign it was a group from Batlochiastan or their rogue allies in the nationalist movements in Nayrin. We are expecting word from other nations as to the nature of the situation and what leads they might have.”
 
“Just what we need, finished fighting a war in Batlochiastan over terrorist attacks and now we may very well have ourselves another shit storm on our hands.”
 
Asifkayev knew well the costs of Operation Enduring Democracy and Operation Iron Fist – without these reactions to terrorists sympathetic to ethnic violence wishing Nayrin to forsake democracy for the old socialist programme, the infant regime might fall into chaos. Some weren’t willing to accept a country embracing freer markets and loosening draconian laws on religion and the ballot. The very notion of ethnic minorities once banished from Nayrin or relegated to “autonomous regions” (gulag-like homelands he recalled) mixing freely with Akayev peoples in Nayrin and holding political office.
 
For some, the change was too much and too fast.
 
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Asifkayev said sternly, “put on a few pots of coffee and call your loved ones. We’re working late on this one…”
 
Nayrin Presidential Residence; 1400 Hours
 
“So, Mr. President, that’s what we have so far. There is precedent in the legislation of the regional body to seek aid in this matter and assemble a regional task force should this be deemed an emergency. ”
 
President Ali Muhammed Grigorkayev stroked his beard pensively, staring out the wide window of his office. He knew well that a cautious and measured approach to diplomacy was best for Nayrin in contacting Karlom-Terevanyia. Not only as a reflection on the promising appointment of Nayrinese Saad Seljukayev to the Premiership of the Oriental State, but knowing well that state sovereignty was of utmost importance to both states.
 
Nor did he wish to give the public the impression that either Karlom-Terevanyia or Sonaco weren't to be trusted. They were regional allies and until the facts said otherwise, both governments were trustworthy. Any disagreements in past were in the back of Grigorkayev's mind - the stability of the region was of utmost importance now.
 
“I won’t be hasty to call for such a large-scale regional investigation or action unless the situation requires it.  What we should do is send a Hazardous Materials taskforce and small contingency force to evacuate border towns on the Nayrin side, while rendering any assistance to fellow states when requested. Until we receive more information, we will place our border patrols and military on high alert and remain in contact with Karlom-Terevanyia and Sonaco. Should they come across more information, tell Asifkayev to share it with fellow affected states in the region and gain what insight he can in return.”
 
This region can't afford a powerful foe within, Grigorkayev thought, not one who could smash the foundations of the Orient into rubble.
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Sun Dec 22, 2013 2:16 pm

Karlom-Terevanyia Intelligentsia Headquarters; Westphalia, K-T, 1300 Hours

"War Minister, thank you for coming on such short notice," said Director Henry Wade, addressing War Minister Gregory Lawrence who was still dressed in golf attire.

Greg scratched his chin, "They won't let me watch the news. Cars have been coming all day. Please, Henry, tell me what everyone else seems to know..."

Mr. Wade sighed, "You know our little deal with Sonaco, right?"

Greg nodded, "Money from them, anti-missile systems from us."

Henry raised his fingers to his temples and massaged them gingerly. "It would appear that someone planted a dirty bomb on one of the trucks. It ran off the road and exploded on the Nayrin border."

Mr. Lawrence stared blankly at the curtains drawn over the window. He took his visor off and took his golfing gloves off his hands. "Call Loreta, tell her to bring my blue suit by. I'm gonna go talk to the First Citizen."

Executive Palace; Westphalia, K-T; 1420 Hours

Minister Lawrence was ushered into First Citizen Anderson's office as soon as he dodged the secretary outside, whom he supposed had a crush on him by how big her eyes got behind her half-moon glasses every time she saw him, and that white, toothy, ear-to-ear grin.

Two Stormtroopers in dress uniform, rifles shouldered, parted from in front of the door to let him through. First Citizen Robert Anderson sat behind an enormous mahogany desk, pipe in one hand and reading spectacles in another, speaking with his wife over the phone.

"You're not smoking again, are you?"

"No, of course not, dear." Anderson looked up, "I'm going to have to let you go, Candace. Minister Lawrence is here."

She scoffed in mock frustration, "Fine. Go off and save the world or something."

Anderson smiled and turned the phone off. He placed his spectacles back on the desk and stretched a hand out across the desk.

"Greg, old friend! I hear you finished three over par, well done!"

Minister Lawrence shook his hand and sat down in a simple wooden chair made to make guests in this office feel small compared to the First Citizen in his massive leather chair behind his massive desk.

"You, no doubt, have heard of the little incident. Haven't you?"

Anderson nodded, lighting his pipe again. "Yes, unfortunately, Channel 8 has nothing better to report."

"They did the same thing with the New Year's Day Riots three years ago."

Anderson nodded, "Indeed they did. Well, what have you got for me, Greg?"

"This." Minister Lawrence slid a manilla envelope containing multiple surveillance photos of the man in the black suit with the briefcase from that morning. "He claimed to be DoW. The soldiers were just following orders from who they assumed to be a superior."

"Did any of them survive?"

"One, but he got exposed to lethal doses of radiation. He won't be of any use. And if he doesn't look any better by tomorrow, the family is going to have him euthanized."

Anderson nodded. "So you pulled the surveillance footage."

"Yep. I can get it for you if you want."

"That won't be necessary. Get me on the phone with Grig, Greg." Anderson chuckled at his own little nickname for Nayrin's president, Grigorkayev.
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Post by Sonaco Tue Dec 24, 2013 2:51 am

Tel-Orientis, Äskenzäi Province, Principality of Sonaco


Nuclear Terrorism Scenario: Principality_of_sonaco__424944

Chaim Savim sat at his desk. The white of the papers that cluttered the beautiful piece of mahogany contrasting it wonderfully. Chaim scanned through the dossier quickly. The Royalist Party continued to demand the diasolution of the Judicial Government which had taken over the functions of the Executive Branch ever since the Royal Mutiny over a century ago. That time had been horrible. The Royalists had only been defeated by an Oriental coalition and the Sonaccan Navy. The Royal Government still ceremonially ruled in Yerushulayim but real power rested in the Judicial branch residing in Tel-Orientis. There was nothing interesting in the dossier so he took wastedd time drumming his fingers on the desk. Chaim knew there was something more productive he could be doing. He was about to start writing a report on something or other. When a knock came to his door. He allowed the person to enter. In came a messager who courtsied in the traditional manner . And left. He read through it. The paged his secretary.

"Get me the leaders of Karlom-Teravaniya and Nayrin immediately."

"Yes sir."
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Post by Nayrin Tue Dec 24, 2013 6:58 am

Inter-Regional Conference Call; 1600 Hours

“Gentlemen, we have set up this conference call to touch base on this tragic event and how we intend to move forward. From what we know collectively, our three states are connected in this affair and must decide how best to act in the wake of this terrorist threat.”

Nayrin President Ali Muhammed Grigorkayev wiped sweat from his brow, shuffling through the briefing notes provided to him. His jacket hanging lopsided from his chair and tie loosened to a significant slack, Grigorkayev’s stress level was lightened by the presence of fellow leaders on the line. Leaning on his desk, Grigorkayev read through handfuls of paper while talking.

“At present, we are aware of no groups claiming responsibility, particularly within our own state. However, we are continuing to monitor nationalist and terrorist activity within neighbouring Batlochistan for security purposes. Having spent significant resources since the end of socialist dictatorship in this country to fight terrorist and ethno-centric nationalists, Nayrin’s government is seriously concerned about this event and are determined to contain and correct this incident.”

“The government of Nayrin is already evacuating affected locales on the border and has placed our military on high alert. We understand in the interest of regional unity a large military presence in border areas would be inappropriate and potentially inflammatory. Thus, Nayrin proposes that Karlom-Terevanyia and Nayrin establish a joint-task force to investigate the wreckage for further clues, endeavour to share necessary intelligence and if the situation calls for it a bilateral anti-terrorist strike. As for Sonaco, efforts to further investigate within your own state and beef up security would be greatly appreciated. ”

Grigorkayev set his papers down, sliding comfortably into his chair and pouring a tall glass of spring water. Were he not a religious man, he'd indulge in any alcoholic beverage to take the edge off like his army friends from years past. Being a staunch Muslim in these latter years of his life, Grigorkayev would have to calm himself some other way.

“Fellow statesmen, I thank you for participating in this conference call and would like your suggestions regarding our next move…”

With that, Grigorkayev’s reclined in his chair and waited attentively, noticing a second red button flashing on his phone. Nayrin’s intelligence community was calling. Grigorkayev hoped it could wait.

Nayrin Intelligence Agency Headquarters; 1615 Hours

Intelligence Minister Yuri Asifkayev stood over the young agent’s cubicle, staring intently at the computer screen before him. The footage, which played in a loop, was filmed from an all too familiar cave in the mountainous regions of Batlochiastan. A solitary man spoke before the banner of the Free Socialist Akayev Army. Simeono Kaliakayev.

“Though we do not claim responsibility for today’s attack, we gladly support our unknown comrades in their struggle against imperialism, the illegitimate government of Nayrin and their allies. Should the time be right, we will gladly aid in liberating this portion of the Orient for a new atheist, racially pure Akayev socialist regime, free from the undesirables who oppose us.”

Kaliakayev certainly enjoyed his hyperbolic press statements, though Asifkayev, a little too much for comfort at this time. Asifkayev couldn’t get to the President, but for the time being, this was more of a warning than a development. It could wait.

“Keep an eye on this loony,” said Asifkayev, “it wouldn’t be the first or last time he’d take a crack at us. Keep a few drones warmed up in case we need to take a warning shot…”
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Tue Dec 24, 2013 9:10 am

Executive Palace; Westphalia, K-T; 1600 Hours

First Citizen Anderson sat back in his chair and held the red, dumb-bell phone to his ear. He took a long drag of his pipe then began to attempt to speak but only coughed. "Smooth, Rob." He chuckled to himself, then put the pipe away and placed the phone again to his ear.

"As it stands, President Grigorkayev, we have no leads on who could be responsible for the attack, but we have a few hunches."

Anderson sat up straighter in his chair and put on his spectacles to read the intelligence report. The First Lady, a small, fair-haired, fair-skinned woman of about the same age as himself, brought him tea and sat it on the desk which he silently thanked her for. He raised the cup to his lips briefly then returned to the call.

"We know that the truck was bound for the Sonocan capital," he was ashamed to admit he had forgotten the name, "but none of the racist, bigoted, or genocidal maniacs we keep track of have a problem with the Sonacans. The bomb was remarkably well-made and the only internal terrorist organization we think could've made it is the Free Terevanyia Movement. You see, back during the Conquest, Karlom conquered Terevanyia but the latter eventually rebelled. Then a couple hundred years later they were both attacked and formed the Confederacy and the whole bloody war was for nothing."

He chuckled lightly, tensely.

"Well, these guys think that Terevanyia aught to be independent again. Despite the fact that most Terevanyians don't want that and the government doesn't want that. We hear them running their mouths on street corners but some of the more...proactive sects have taken to tarring and feathering Karlomite politicians. A dirty bomb seems a step above them in intelligence and gaul. But anything is possible."
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Post by Sonaco Tue Dec 24, 2013 4:02 pm

Tel-Orientis, Äskenzäi Province, Principality of Sonaco


Nuclear Terrorism Scenario: Principality_of_sonaco__424944

Chaim and the other leaders talked long into the night. The only thing fueling him being duty and coffee, lots and lots of coffee. Provided by his Chief of Staff who was kind enough to stay up with him nd the other leaders. Throughout most of the first hour he was scribbling down orders; lockdown was instituted along the Karlom-Teravaniya border. The Kaf ä Mozzad or State Security was put on maxime alert. The agents who had infletrated Royalist  and terrorists groups submitted their reports to the General Staff of the Kaf ä Mozzad. Suspects where interrogated, and rwports written. Three suspect groups. Three groups came up in the investigations that where most likely to want to revolt and cause terror against the country: Tña Tzä, a Roylist Party in the Knesset which had launched violence against supporter's of the Judicial Government, Hāifa ng a branch of Al-Qaeda that operated in the Muslim majority areas and Bet Häshi a Hasidic group that also favoured the Monarchy and atempted.

"Gentlemen, we now are faced with a true problem. The truck was headed to Tel-Orientis, where our Judicial government is located. The Kaf ä Mozzad has detained numerous suspects but so far no leads have been found. The bomb was supposed to be heading for Sonaco, which raises questions if it could be an internal threat. The royal government has long been attempting to overthrow the Judicial government which has ruled since the Royal Mutiny. What have your respective governments uncovered?
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Fri Dec 27, 2013 4:25 pm

A man from the Intelligentsia entered, dropping a file on his desk. (Introducing ze enemy here.) First Citizen Anderson looked over the contents of the file, then put it down.

"Well, my friends, it appears we have our attackers. Thirty minutes ago, a ricin-laced package was intercepted by the postal service. Inside, was a video tape of a gentleman who claims to be the leader of a group we have no record of, the Oriental Anarchist Army. They have claimed responsibility for the attack and boast their numbers in the tens of thousands. Their cause seems to be the destruction of all of our governments, apparently starting with Sonaco. From the looks of it, the film was made in a mountain cave, probably extreme northern Orient. All of the soldiers depicted have Kalashnikov rifles and their setup looks fairly primative. We're doing all that we can to trace the location of the tape, but for now you'll have to look into your own databases. I assume you gentlemen will call me again after dinner tonight with updates."

With that, he hung up the phone.
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Post by Nayrin Sat Dec 28, 2013 3:09 am

Nayrin Presidential Residence

Within the hour of the call, Nayrin's armed forces had assembled a number of potential strike options for approval. Unwilling to commit a major ground force (with soldiers already engaged on a large scale in Batlochistan) and much of the country's small navy blockading the island territory in support positions, few tangible options remained.

"Sir," Admiral Yuri Trepakayev intimated as he slid yet another manila envelope across the President's desk, "we do have several unmanned drones who have been used effectively in conflict. Since the Batlochiastan conflict has been relatively contained and ground troops have pressed the enemy into defensive positions, we could divert the drones at a moments notice to attack targets."

President Grigorkayev rubbed his tired eyes and yawned. The office hadn't slept in almost 24 hours mulling over the details provided by the government of Karlom-Terevanyia and how best to approach this new threat. Fighting a war with a tangible foe in Batlochiastan was sufficiently supported in Nayrin, particularly because of the attacks at home and suppression of rebels dangerous to the national peace. Pitching a second adventure with a foe who was cleverly hidden and barely known in Nayrin could prove more difficult.

"Drones may prove more popular than a significant commitment on the ground, at least until we know what we're really dealing with. Inform Karlom-Terevanyia and Sonaco of our intention to deploy drone strikes in the region once we confirm coordinates for enemy positions. Should these lunatics have weapons capable of long-distance strikes, we'll need to act fast and supress any ability to retaliate."

"Yes sir," Trepakayev shouted, "We'll have the drones back in our hangars and refueling within the hour. On your command, we'll be ready to strike by nightfall tomorrow."

"Should it come to that Trepakayev," Grigorkayev murmured, "show them not quarter. They have every intention of doing the same to our regional allies and Nayrin."
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Sat Dec 28, 2013 1:00 pm

Karlom-Terevanyia Intelligentsia Headquarters; 2100 Hours

"So..." Mr. Lawrence set his coffee cup down, "We have absolutely no leads. No sources. Hell! We don't even know who the fuckers are!"

Director Wade massaged his temples with his forefingers. The room was silent and tense until a staffer emerged in the door.

"Sir," he began with excitement, "we've got a lead."

"What's that?"

The staffer popped a copy of the tape into the television nearby and they watched in silence for the first few minutes. Then, the camera panned briefly, as if the cameraman had fumbled it, to the right. In the very corner of the screen was an enormous mountain shrouded in clouds and below it the faint outline of a lake.

"That can only be ONE mountain." The staffer said, pointing out the landforms with his finger. "Mount Yelsla in North-Central Orient."

Lawrence and Wade both stood and clapped enthusiastically. "Son. You're getting a raise. Contact Nayrin and Sonoco with this information and try to get our spy satellites zeroed in on their location."

Presidential Palace, Nayrin; 2100 Hours

A lone man approached from the street with a briefcase in hand. He had used fake papers to clear the roadblocks and got to the garage gate, but once he was there, he was stopped by a security guard.

"Sorry, sir. No entry for the time being. I can leave a message for President Grigorkayev if you..."

The man produced a silenced pistol from his jacket and shot the guard dead. He carefully bypassed the security desk and continued walking until another guard approached him. As he raised his gun, the guard fired and hit him in the chest, survivably, but not before he put two rounds in the guard's head. He continued on his way, trailing blood, and the alarms began to sound. When security forces finally subdued him, he was huddled in a bloody heap against the elevator door. In his briefcase, a not-yet-armed nuclear device.
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Post by Nayrin Mon Dec 30, 2013 3:18 am

Presidential Palace, Nayrin; 2130 Hours
 
President Grigorkayev was no stranger to assassination attempts, this being the third attempt since his inauguration. Still, this had been the closest threat - inside the palace itself rather than in the streets of Nayrin. Such an act required swift retribution.
 
Grigorkayev had spent some quiet time before he was resolved. Once assured his Premier was in a secure location should the next attack be successful, he rang Admiral Trepakayev.
 
"Yuri, get the drones in the air and once we confirm the position our allies have provided us is clear, coordinate a strike on Mount Yelsla."
 
"Mr. President, I recommend in light of the events this evening you consider utilizing your bunker in the palace..."
 
"No Admiral, the people of Nayrin will need to know what is happening once we've hit these bastards. I've never been one to hide away and the people know that. We can't show weakness or negotiate!"
 
"Understood Mr. President. The drones should be within firing distance within the next two hours. When we are in firing range I will ask for your confirmation."
 
"Understood Admiral, Allah be with you... and us all."
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Mon Dec 30, 2013 11:32 am

Over Oriental Orbit; 2300 Hours

The Karlom-Terevanyian spy satellite, Markov 8, was in a stationary orbit over Mt. Yelsla and the surrounding countryside. Several villages and other structures had presented themselves as worthy targets, especially what appeared to be a small depot for trucks at the base of the mountain. The coordinates were noted by the satellite and beamed to the intelligence agencies of the coalition.

Oriental Anarchist Army HQ; Northern Orient; 2200 Hours

The failure of both attacks was too much for the short fuse of Ossin Andreyovich. He began pacing around his small palace in the village at the base of the mountain and irritably barking orders to his men.

To him, the solution to the world's problems were simple. The eradication of "Big Brother" everywhere. North-East Berma was simply too secure and he judged the Karlom-Terevanyians to be nuclear cowboys and probably do more harm than good in retaliation. But he was counting on Nayrin and Sonaco to be the first to go and both attempts failed. He was furious. If only the people would wise-up and see he was really liberating them! Yes. Liberating. Anarchy is of course the manifestation of true freedom, through Ossin's eyes at least.

"Sir." A few of his soldiers appeared.

"We need to move you to a more secure location. Karlom-Terevanyian satellites are marking the palace as a target."

Ossin was furious. "How did they..?"

"We don't know, sir."

Ossin sighed and allowed them to carry him to the waiting truck with an "oh well" and a deep sigh.
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Post by Nayrin Tue Dec 31, 2013 7:21 pm

Presidential Palace, Nayrin; 2300 Hours

President Grigorkayev sat on a long couch in his office, the lights dimmed to a low, intimate glow. He had ordered the drones to attack and hadn't heard from Admiral Trepakayev since. The room's mood was pensive as several key cabinet members peppered the other seats or stood awkwardly silent. Grigorkayev scratched his beard, nodding confidently to a young staffer nervously shaking.

Trepakayev threw open the office door, breaking the quiet of the room. Out of breath, Trepakayev stopped short of the President and caught a quick breath, straightening up to attention.

"What do you have?" asked Grigorkayev quietly.

"Mr. President, I am glad to report that our drones successfully destroyed key installations of the Oriental Anarchist Army, including a number of transports carrying weapons deeper into the mountains. Only a mere handful of trucks managed to escape our fire."

"Still, a handful escaped" said Grigorkayev coldly. "One escaping was too many. Indeed, the destruction of much of their supply line is an admirable feat, we cannot celebrate with even one of their people on the loose."

"Since our drones can't get that deep into the mountains without being overexposed by flying low, I'm recommending a ground task force to engage them."

Trepakayev handed a file to Grigorkayev, who read it quickly.

"Yes, alert our allies of our intent. We may require some assistance. I haven't slept in ages, wake me when we touch down."

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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Wed Jan 01, 2014 12:45 pm

Executive Palace, Karlom-Terevanyia; Early the next morning:

First Citizen Anderson was pleased to learn of the Nayrin drone strikes but suspected something bigger was a foot than the OAA was showing. Indeed, he had authorized six Mandinka air carriers to be prepped for takeoff and a taskforce of a hundred Stormtroopers was assembled to engage forces on the ground. Attack helicopters were also on standby to give air support. But he wanted to smooth things over with Nayrin and Sonaco before he went cowboy on the OAA. It was early that morning, about 5 AM, and the First Citizen and his wife were having tea on the veranda. Risky business with terrorists running amuck but since the veranda faced his 6400 acre wooded estate that was crawling with Executive Overwatch men, he felt fairly secure.

His wife placed her hand on his as he reached for the phone. "You've done nothing but talk on the phone for hours. Don't you know that gives you cancer?" She teased. The First Citizen smirked and took the phone off the receiver, allowing his staff to patch him through to Grigorkayev on official diplomatic channels.
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Post by Nayrin Sat Jan 04, 2014 11:29 am

OAA Territories; 05:30 Hours

Field Marshal Memhed Asakayev examined the wreckage left in the wake of the drone strikes. They had made short work of the encampments where the OAA had only hours ago fled. The OAA headquarters had left little behind in their escape. A number of inconsequential documents and stray bullet shells lay scattered across the floor among the large chunks of rubble from the roof resulting from the bombing.

“Field Marshal,” a voice called out from a room down the hall, “I believe we’ve found something!”

Asakayev ran down the hallway, turning the corner sharply to see a young Nayrinese soldier propping up an OAA officer in a chair.

“He said he’ll only talk to the man in charge sir! I’ve bandaged his wounds as best as I can but we’ll need to get him a medical officer and send him back home if we want him to live.”

“Good work soldier,” Asakayev said as he scanned the OAA officer slumped before him, “I hope you haven’t wasted you bandages and his information is worth the effort to keep him alive. You! What information do you have?”

The OAA officer spat thick red blood from his lips onto the floor. Clearly his wounds were deep and required immediate attention. Asakayev wasn’t willing to waste medical care his troops might need for the road ahead on scum like this.

“Field Marshall, I am Petri Bolshoi of the OAA’s officer corps, I ask you spare my life and in return I will give you information as to the whereabouts of the OAA and their plans…”

“Bolshoi, I have no intention of negotiating with terrorists. The terms are simple: give me your information and if you lie or provide nothing of use, I promise to kill you here rather than bring you back to the Oriental Supreme Court for criminal charges.”

Bolshoi weighed his limited options, feeling his lungs filling with every breath. His comrades had betrayed him and if he lived long enough, he might be able to escape to exact vengeance on the OAA and the Oriental armies.

“Very well, since I have little choice in the matter. My comrades head north into the mountains where a second ad sizeable weapons cache exists. A map in my jacket should give you the coordinates. It will be difficult to attack by sky but by heading through a pass open to the desert north-east of here, you can reach it quickly and block their advance. Their intention is to…. Assassination…President…North-East Berma … attack the ….”

Bolshoi collapsed, fainting from his progressing wounds.

“Get him on the next plane to Naypyidaw! I want him alive and talking, ready to stand trial when this is all over. In the meantime, call our President to inform him of our situation so he can get in contact with our allies.”


Presidential Palace, Nayrin; 0600 Hours

“… And that, First Citizen Anderson, is the situation. We are planning to move a significant amount of our ground troops to the pass – should this man be telling the truth. With our Oriental President in dispose for diplomatic duties abroad, it leaves his state prone to a deadly attack sure to weaken our region.”

Grigorkayev sipped on his chai tea loudly and took a calming draw from his hookah pipe, exhaling a great cloud of strawberry flavored mu‘assel tobacco.

“I’d like to get your and Chaim’s opinion on how to best focus our efforts and bring an end to this madness once and for all.”
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Sat Jan 04, 2014 5:20 pm

Anderson turned the phone over into his other hand.

"We have choppers in the air and ready to land very soon and establish an LZ and a supply depot for further operations into the area. We have additional choppers in the air full of supplies."

Anderson sighed, "Do you think they'll make any further threats to either of our governments?"
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Post by Nayrin Sun Jan 05, 2014 9:46 pm

"We can't be too certain First Citizen Anderson, given their ability to spread chaos thus far, it seems likely they have cells within our states. My hope is that Bolshoi will be able to give us information on the full extent of the OAA's operative capabilities at..."

Admiral Trepakayev entered the Presidential office with a grave scowl, stopping mid-office to salute.

"It seems Admiral Trepakayev has urgent news, pardon me for a moment."

Grigorkayev rested the phone on his shoulder and nodded at Trepakayev to speak.

"Mr. President, it's Bolshoi... He's escaped."

"How?"

"We're not sure. The helicopter taking him to North-East Berma went silent on radar mid-flight and no one in NEB confirmed its arrival. In the last hour we received a signal from the helicopter. The crew and the remains were salvaged north of NEB's capital. Bolshoi was last spotted in a nearby locale."

Gathering himself, Grigorkayev made First Citizen Anderson of the situation.


OAA Territories; 1400 Hours

The combined efforts of Karlom-Terevaynia and Nayrin yielded success. Within hours of engagement, the combined force had managed to capture the OAA's base within the mountain range. What was clear was there was a uranium enrichment facility and some small munitions caches but the few OAA forces resisting the joint task force was suspect. Ossin Andreyovich was nowhere to be found, to say little of the sizeable force he had fled to this position with and though the enrichment facility was still operational the weapons which it had produced were almost completely absent.

"Sir, Andreyovich and his men left no trail. The place was sanitized completely of any leads before they left. They knew we were coming... This was likely a diversion to get away. "

Field Marshal Memhed Asakayev ran his finger across the controls of a large computer. Not a speck of dust. The entire mainframe wiped clean . The men who stayed behind were just convenient cannon fodder for their allies to escape. It had been too easy - Asakayev should have known.

"Tell the men to gather anything they can find, bury the enemies dead and get ours on the next flight home. We're done here."

As Asakayev left the compound he had a suspicion that this wouldn't be the last time he'd cross swords with the OAA. With allies like Nayrin's, however, he felt confident in future victories.


North of Naypyidaw, North-East Berma; 1800 Hours

Bolshoi, freshly shaved and hair cropped, was unidentifiable to the locals who watched their televisions cheering for the troops of the Orient. Fools, he thought, they don't even know the half of it. Smoking a cigarette and sipping on his coffee, he smiled at their meaningless celebrations.

Two men entered the café where Bolshoi sat and took a table next to his. The larger of the two leaned backwards and tapped twice on the leg of Bolshoi's chair with his heel. Understanding the signal, Bolshoi extinguished his cigarette after a long final draw and headed outside to the alley. The men waited a few moments to follow, arousing no suspicion with their exit.

Large garbage dumpsters obstructed their actions from the streetwalking public. The larger man signalled to a large tote lying next to several trash bags. Bolshoi nodded towards a briefcase in a nearby dumpster. The switch was confirmed.

As the larger man leaned into the dumpster, he felt a sharp explosion of pain in his back followed by a faint popping sound. A second rang out in the alley and he heard his comrade slump to the ground. Falling backwards, he landed in a wet and sour smelling puddle, feeling fainter as the second passed. Bolshoi appeared above him and patted his cheek.

"Well comrade, I'm glad you could help me... this time. You bastards left me for dead and while I'm no friend of the Orient, the OAA has made itself a powerful enemy too! I'll be glad to take the contents of that bag with me and you can keep the briefcase... It'll explode in a few seconds anyways. Goodbye comrade."

With a smug smile across his face and the bag slung over one shoulder, Bolshoi slunk into the thick jungle not far ahead. A large jeep was waiting for him and no doubt a boatman would be glad to take him down the river and out to the sea south of NEB. With his credentials neatly packed in the pocket of his old friend, no one would follow his trail now. Bolshoi could have some peace and quiet to plot his next move. Sufficiently far from the scene, he detonated the briefcase.

Later that night, NEB and Oriental news stations confirmed the death of Bolshoi and an unnamed second operative in a failed terrorist attack. Somewhere in the Sea of Naypyidaw, on a small steamer, Bolshoi lay on a cot and laughed.

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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Mon Jan 06, 2014 10:41 am

Westphalia, Karlom-Terevanyia; 1500 Hours

News of the "failed" terrorist attack in NEB reached the Confederacy in an hour, but it hardly phased the generally politically apathetic Karlom-Terevanyians. First Citizen Anderson, however, was nervous. Already the order had been given to beef up security on all military bases and missile silos.

General O'Haire stood in the First Citizen's office along with Second Citizen Seaton.

"Mr. First Citizen, our forces have landed and assisted the Nayrinese in the capture of an OAA instillation. The facility appeared to be built to enrich uranium, but none of the fissile material was there when we raided the complex which leads us to believe their leader, Andreyovich, and his vanguard took it with them.

"And where did his vanguard flee to?"

"Probably another underground site farther north. I wouldn't underestimate these guys. They've got more than a token force. And intelligence reports confirm they have Russian anti-aircraft and anti-tank systems, who knows what else they might have."

"They have dirty bombs, that's for sure."

"Yes." The First Citizen stood up. "They have bombs that can annihilate a city block and kill hundreds of thousands, millions maybe. A bomb that can turn half of Westphalia into a nuclear wasteland and you're talking to me about AA and AT emplacements. I don't care if we lose a few tanks or helicopters, they can be replaced, never mind the pilots. What I care about is getting those bombs out of enemy hands. Capiche?"

The General and Second Citizen saluted dutifully. Anderson looked around. "Now where's the Tylenol?"

OAA Territory; 1600 Hours

CAF attack helicopters zoomed over the barren mountainous landscape searching for indication of hostility. By now, 800 CAF stormtroopers had landed at Basecamp Liberty, two clicks south of the last confirmed OAA position.
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Post by Great Churubusco Fri Jan 10, 2014 10:18 am

King's Palace, 0800 Hours

The newly appointed king of Great Churubusco watched the news in horror. It seemed that there would be a nuclear apocalypse incoming. There was a big decision to be made. H still had to convince the people he's just as good as, if not better than, his father. He quickly ordered that the countries non-ballistics be activated immediately. If a missile crosses the borders it will be destroyed immediately. Then 5 more will be launched in retaliation.

The Borders of Great Churubusco, 0900 Hours

Sergeant Major John M. Grant, readied troops to march into nearby territory if necessary. His own life at risk, as these were not the king's orders. He prayed that the king would have a reason to declare war soon. That's when he realized he could stage something. He ordered a squadron of men to follow him, unarmed, into the nearby hills. He admired his weapon. It was his favorite. A Nayrinese standard army pistol. It was given to him, back when he was in the Great War of the World, by Nayrinese soldier, whom he'd met and befriended. "Friends come and go, power lasts forever", thought the Sergeant Major. 2 by 2 he ordered his soldiers back behind another hill and shot them. "Thank God", he thought, "I also had my lucky silencer.
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Post by Nayrin Sat Jan 11, 2014 10:16 pm

Mountain Ranges, North Orient; 1400 Hours

The remaining OAA force had marched deep into the mountains, many to the breaking point. Stopping short of a river bank flowing from the higher icy peaks which marked the far reaches of the Oriental region, Andreyovich signalled that they would pause for rest and planning for the journey ahead. While the company took shelter beneath rock outcroppings and in the small pockets of dense pine forests which lined the river, Andreyovich stooped to fill his canteen in the crystal clear waters.

"Sir, we're still being tracked by KT forces. They are still a few hours behind us but gaining with every hour. If we lay about here, they may close in on us before we reach the mine shafts. We have Stormtroopers following us on foot and gaining. What are we going to do?"

Andreyovich scanned the imposing mountains ahead, capped by deep white snow and wrapped up in swirling clouds. Nayrin seemed to have withdrawn for now, not that their drones could operate sufficiently this deep in the northern steppes, but the persistence of Karlom-Terevanyia was troubling. Still, could he reach the shafts, there would be enough AA and AT firepower to stall them at least.

"What we will do, comrade, is make the men ready after they catch their breath. Tell them to stay in the treeline and keep their heads down."

A gargantuan wall of clouds lay just beyond the mountains, moving threateningly towards their position. The thawed valley they now found themselves would soon be covered by a thick layer of snow. Good, Andreyovich thought, this could buy them more time and potentially keep the helicopters off their backs. The Stormtroopers and any other land forces would be slowed, but hardly stopped.

"Tell the men to dress warmly as well, it looks like we're about to leave the eye of the storm."



East of Batlochiastan Islands, Oriental Waters; 1400 Hours

"Where are you headed, if you don't mind me asking? I don't wish to be pushy but these long trips are usually lonely and I like to chat to pass the time."

The steamboat captain smiled as he glanced back at his sole passenger, taking care to return his gaze to the open water.

"No bother," his passenger laughed, "I'm keen on reaching the other side of the Oriental region. Have family on the northern shores of the Oriental Ocean. Rarely keep in touch and I wanted to surprise them with a visit." The man reclined on a pile of sacks, his thick woolen hat pulled down over his brow and eyes closed.

"Never been that far out but seems to me I knew a seaman from over that way. You don't have that drawl they all have over there."

"No, my family raised me in North-East Berma. You ask a lot of questions..."

The captain chuckled nervously. He hadn't got a good look at the man but with things as crazy as they had been the past few days, something didn't feel right. The accent, his features - none of these seemed to match.

"I apologize, didn't mean to offend ya! Just passing the time, you know?"

The passenger seemed to relax now, smiling as he scratched his neck.

"Quite fine friend, I'm just anxious to get where I'm going, that's all."

Some time passed that afternoon under the hot sun of the Southern Orient. Without warning, the small craft turned suddenly southward and towards the lush island south of Batlochiastan. A crumpled body slid overboard and the new captain donned the jacket and cap of the old one. The radio, previously broadcasting the buzzing of nearby craft, went silent.

Deep in the ship's hold a large black tote bag sat among miscellaneous sacks, precious cargo bound for a greater purpose.
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Sat Jan 11, 2014 11:55 pm

Hyperion II (Karlom-Terevanyian warship); Off the Batlochiastian Coast; near the KT-Nayrinese Naval Neutral Zone; 1600 Hours

Captain Parker was asleep in his quarters that afternoon and First Helmsman Marko Gütera had the bridge. Life on the Hyperion II had proven to be absolutely boring as the nuclear attack cruiser merely prowled around the Nayrinese Neutral Zone for no other reason than to show off Karlom-Terevanyia's massive naval budget, that's what it came down to anyways. What your nation spends it's money on says a lot about them, Marko thought. No matter. When was dinner going to be served in the galley?

"First Helmsman," his radar operator began. "We're picking up an unidentified vessel entering the Neutral Zone. I'm going to attempt to make radio contact and tell them that much. I don't think that's a code violation, looks like a small steamer, but he should know what he's sailing into."

Marko nodded. "Put me on speaker."

The radio came over the bridge's speaker. It was the typical static. He pressed the button. "Civilian vessel, this is the CAF vessel Hyperion II. Acknowledge."

Silence.

He tried again.

Silence.

Marko turned to the radar operator. "Wake up the captain. Let's hunt down this steamer. I got a bad feeling about this."

"But sir! That'll take us into the Neutral Zone!"

"It's a chance we'll take to see what's going on. With all this that's been happening ashore, we can't be too careful."

The Hyperion II began to turn into the Neutral Zone on an intercept course.
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Post by Great Churubusco Sun Jan 12, 2014 12:41 pm

The Streets of Churubusco, Great Churubusco 0200 Hours

Riots break out in the streets after the discovery of the dead soldiers. "Down with Nayrin" scream the protesters. "Our soldiers are dying, what will you do about it?" Fires burned throughout the city as the citizens attempted to attack government offices. The Department of Homeland Defense, and the Department of Civil Peace have soldiers marching the streets looking for the people who started the riots.

King's Palace, Same Time

"My liege, the protests are getting worse. The people truly believe the responsibility of Nayrin for those deaths." stated Jacob A. Hurtsch, leader of the Department of Civil Peace and member of the King's Cabinet. "I agree sir." said Sergeant Major John M. Grant. "I personally believe that the Naryinese have a camp somewhere outside our borders and killed our men. I say we declare war on them before the attack again." The king sat at his desk and thought. War would boost his approval rating, but would squash the close relations with Nayrin that his father had worked so hard for. But it still made no sense to him, Nayrin had their own problems at the time, so why mess with Great Churubusco? "Sergeant Major, I want you to find this 'camp' and if it exists, lead an army into Nayrin and demand explanation. War is last on my list of things to do, understand?" "Sir, yes, sir!" exclaimed the Sergeant Major. The king buzzed his secretary via the intercom. "Summon the Nayrinese ambassador immediately." He commanded. "I'm sorry sir but that can't be done. He was killed by protesters 2 hours ago." "Does Nayrin know?" "Yes sir, they know that our people killed their ambassador but that's it." He immediatly ordered all high-ranking military officers to keep an eye out for Nayrinese ships head for Great Churubusco. "If you see one, shoot first, ask questions later."
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Post by Karlom-Terevanyia Sun Jan 12, 2014 3:26 pm

Karlom-Terevanyian Consulate, Churubusco; 0220 Hours

"This is insanity!" Shouted Ambassador Yuriy Kakor through the phone at the Director of the Intelligentsia. "They are SETTING FIRE TO THE STREETS! This situation is completely out of hand."

"Relax. Relax." Director Wade urged him.

"How do I relax? They already put the Nayrinese ambassador's head on a pike. Is mine next, Wade? C'mon. Quite bullshitting me. I need to get out of this backwards god-forsaken country NOW."

Wade sighed. "Alright. This is unsanctioned, so if there's a fuck-up, this never happened. They'll be a Jayhawk on the helipad by 0300."

Wade hung up the phone.
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Post by Nayrin Sun Jan 12, 2014 5:02 pm

Presidential Palace, Nayrin; 0230 Hours

President Grigorkayev had ordered all Nayrin diplomats back following the news of their delegate's death. The OAA, Bolshoi's escape and now unrest in neighbouring Churubusco - what else could possibly go wrong.

"Get in contact with the government of Churubusco and secure my friend in Karlom-Terevanyia on the line. There needs to be some measured response to this."

A young staffer came rushing into the office, handing Grigorkayev the latest updates to the crisis.

"They're ready for you in the press gallery sir!"

Press Gallery; 0240 Hours

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press, I have received news of the death of Ambassador Illakayev in Greater Churubusco with great sadness. This act was in no way perpetrated by the government of the state of Churubusco, with whom our relations have been positive for some time, but instead the acts of protestors."

"We have withdrawn all diplomatic staff remaining within said borders and have begun receiving the last civilian visitors at our borders. We condemn the actors responsible for these crimes against Nayrinese peoples, not the government of Churubusco. However, we firmly ask in the interest of justice and peace that those responsible for such crimes - should they be found - be dealt with according to the law. I would not wish the peace between our nations to be lost over such a grave misunderstanding."

"Our intelligence indicates the primary concern of protestors is that Nayrin has "camps" where Churubusco troops have been executed. We assure our allies no such place exists and intend to send documents proving such places have never existed within our borders."

"Finally, in the interest of public safety, our border with Churubusco will be heavily regulated by a military presence to ensure no further attacks may be perpetrated against innocents. Our navy will also be posted within Nayrinese waters, blockading any craft attempting entry. Until we receive diplomatic agents or a response from our allies in Churubusco, this will be in effect. That is all."

Amid a flurry of questions and flashes from pressing photographers, Grigorkayev retreated to his office to wait.
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Post by Great Churubusco Sun Jan 12, 2014 7:46 pm

Borders of Great Churubusco 0010 Hours
Sergeant Major John M. Grant paced back and forth. His phone rang. Already knowing who was calling he picked up the phone and apologized profusely. "Sir, I'm sorry. But, the king will not go to war without proof of these camps I made up. The people beleived me but the king just isn't convinced." "That's fine, just follow the border south a couple miles." He ordered his troops do so and they found a cluster of tents littered with dead Nayrinese soldiers. The Sergeant Major watched as all his soldiers were gunned down by a single man. He walked up to the man and shook his hand. "Sir this will certainly cover my tracks! Thank you! Exclaimed The Sergeant Major. "That pistol, Nayrinese?" asked the man. "Yes, here take a closer look. It's my favorite possesion." Bolshoi took the pistol and shot the Sergeant Major in the head.

0020 Hours, Kings Palace, Great Churubusco

"Sir, we all know Nayrin denied it but we found one! They lied! People lie!" shouted Joe Hatsfeld, Head of Department of Foreign Affairs. "It just doesn't seem like them." stated the King. "It doesn't matter who it seems like. Our soldiers were found dead along with theirs. Killed with Nayrinese weapons in a Nayrinese camp that, according to Nayrin, doesn't exist! They killed the Sergeant Major!" "Fine! Organize the troops, tell nothing to the press. We march in 5 days. Keep the investigation going if you find anything that leads away from Nayrin being behind this in that time end this immediatly. While I'm gone you're in charge." "Sir, where are you going?" "Karlom-Teravaniya, I'm gonna try and sort this out."
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