Camp Haley

Camp Haley, Aldonya State
The Westernesse States of Ambrosia

President Robert Hirschfeld winced as his wife Ellen was lowered down yet another excruciating stone stair to meet the helicopter pad which perched over Ambrosia's stretch of the Great White Lake. She had been a marathon runner, a mother, and now a grandmother to grandchildren which poured out curiously to see if President Breckingridge's children had tagged along.

In that moment of ear bursting touchdown some generations of multi-generational families visiting Camp Haley prevailed when Clem, the Hirschfeld's Elben Daschund ran into a wire fence meant to keep back children around the helipad. "Irony on that pooch" Robert said and smirked
to himself behind a camouflage of white and black beard spots.

As the Sylvanian helicopter began to settle the Hirschfeld family formed up in their khaki pants or floral dresses, peeking over the shoulders of each other at what would emerge. Robert walked towards the opening door of the helicopter with a subdued limp, a decades pronounced policing injury, and looked back towards his wife Pamela who held a handkerchief to her face crying to see her grandchildren in such awe of the Sylvanian helicopter and prospective visitors.

The Sylvanian Presidential helicopter slowly lowered down onto the helipad of Camp Haley, it's lower three quarters of the fuselage painted the same deep red as the flag and the top quarter painted red. Across it's tail boom in white capital letters was written CONTINENTAL REPUBLIC OF SYLVANIA and on the doors and nose of the helicopter was the great seal. The wheels of the large machine touched down softly on the pad, inside the cabin the jolt of landing was almost imperceptible, a testament to the skill of the marine pilots who now where running through the post landing checklist with practiced precision

After the engines had spooled down and were shut down the cabin door swung down and with military quickness a marine sergeant came down the stairs and secured the air stair before opening the rear cabin door for the occupants in the back. President Ashley Breckenridge appeared in the cabin doorway, first poking his head into the cockpit to thank the colonel and lieutenant who were flying for another great flight and landing. He then bent his head as he came down the air stair. The enlisted marine saluted and the president returned it as he turned his back toward the crowd and waited for his wife, Keira to exit the cabin. She gracefully came down the stairs and reached out to hold her husband's hand as they turned to move away from the helicopter. Keira stopped Breckenridge and turned back to wait for their four children to exit the rear cabin with their caretaker.

Two younger children a boy of eleven and a girl of twleve playfully jumped out of the helicopter, their giggles and laughs could be heard as they ran forward toward their parents. Behind them a tall seventeen year old boy exited the helicopter awkwardly attempting to match his father's straight backed, serious demeanor, behind him a fifteen year old girl followed, adjusting her sunglasses for the bright sun she now found herself bathed in. The caretaker came out last, keeping to the rear in a deferential manner. The family now approached the large gathering of Hirschfelds who stood before them. Breckenridge broke away from his family and firmly shook President Hirschfeld's hand in greeting.

"It's finally good to be here Robert, this meeting should have happened earlier, my apologies." Breckenridge removed his sunglasses revealing the eyepatch over his right eye. "Let me introduce you to my family. This is my lovely wife, Keira."

Keira Breckenridge stepped forward to shake President Hirschfeld's hand. "It's an honor to meet you and yours, Mister President. Thank you for having us here at your retreat, from what I could see from the air, it's quite a beautiful area." Keira returned to her husband's side her blonde almost white hair shining in the sun, in that moment the sun revealing a bit of her fourty five years of age that she attempted to hide with a light touch of makeup. Her blue floral sun dress and white denim jacket covering her arms gave her a relaxed casual look.

Their young children presented themselves before President Hirschfeld as Breckenridge introduced them from oldest to youngest. "This is my eldest, Felix."

Felix stepped forward and shook Hirschfeld's hand attempting to imitate his father's firm grip. "It's an honor sir." His brown hair was cut high and tight and it was clear that he was destined to join the military as his father had. He was dressed similarly to his father and younger brother in khakis and a slightly less formal tucked in tatterstall patterned shirts.

"And my second eldest, Anniken." Ann curtsied before President Hirschfeld her floral sundress fluttering lightly in the breeze, her brown hair tied up in a loose ponytail. "Thank you for having us here, sir."

"Tawnee come," Breckenridge called with a soft but stern voice. The younger boy and girl and been quietly poking and teasing at each other much to the chagrin of their caretaker who could barely control them.

The twelve year old blonde girl came up to President Hirschfeld and also curtsied. Her cheeks were red and she was clearly shy, not knowing what to say. went back to stand with her family as quickly as she came.

"And my youngest, Vincent." Breckenridge motioned for the eleven year old ruddy haired boy to come present himself before their host. "Nice to meet ya! I'm Vince!" The young boy blurted out as he awkwardly shook Hirschfeld's hand.

With the introductions of the Breckenridge clan over, Breckenridge looked over the many Hirschfeld's that had come down to meet them. "Quite the clan you have here Robert." He said with a smile.

President Hirschfeld's eyes met his counterpart's warmly, pulling his lips out in neither a smile or frown at the statement that this meeting should have taken place sooner. "Ever read the Farmer's Almanac?" Robert asked somewhat uncomfortably with eyes darting out towards the woods. "It can tell you the perfect day to plant a tomato, but if you are a few days late and still want to eat: planting today is the right thing to do, right?"

Robert did smile then to see and understand in their postures and mannerisms the children of Ashley Breckenridge, "Fine children, Ash. Ellen can recite the names and qualities of our hodge-podge dynasty greater than I, couldn't you Ellen?"

From her wheelchair the First Lady burst out from her painful melancholy to her feet, accepting the cane and steady arm of an Ambrosian Marine who's uniform perhaps mirrored the Sylvanian's in different colors. "Mrs. Breckenridge, although I envy to be a mother again, I touch my nose and wink that you have yet the joy of grandchildren!"

Eighteen in total, ranging from toddlers to young teenagers, the Hirschfeld generations invited the Breckenridge youth to several different activities: Ellen was inviting Keira and the young ladies to participate in a cooking class from the Presidential Chef, while Robert was ruffling his beard in uncertainty whether or not Ashley and his sons would join them out at the pier and canoes to fish.

"I promised Danny over there I'd teach him how to tie a knot," Robert remarked with finger towards his second daughter's son of 6 years. Most of the Hirschfeld's children were absent from this affair, engaged in business, service, or glad for a break from their brood. Here, at the 1970s built lodge at Camp Haley, the focus was always on recuperating natural skills and sanity. For those who did not want to participate in fishing or cooking, there was the choice to simply relax individually at the saunas where birch leaves and sweat might renew their bodies.

Breckenridge gave a simple respectful nod at the tomato comment as he looked out upon the brood of children, Ellen named them off with 100 percent accuracy one might expect from a wise and doting grandmother. Somewhere deep in his mind it occurred to him that he may never get to enjoy such a sight from his own family if his children where to wait as long as he had to have children or worse the presidency killed him as it had others. He quickly buried the thought.

Keira took their two girls and their caretaker with them as she approached and accepted Ellen's invitation to attend the cooking class with their personal chef. Oh my, grandchildren, I can hardly imagine it, they are still so young to me, I imagine they will always seem that way even as they blossom into adults." Keira turned to her girls and said, "A cooking class! How fun. We'd love to join you. Wouldn't you girls?" She said to her female children, they nodded in agreement.

At the offer to fish in the waters of Camp Haley, Breckenridge lit up with enthusiasm. "Of course me and the boys would love to do some fishing, I usually attempt to take my sons back to our home state and get some fishing in at our property on Great White Lake a couple times a year when it's possible. We didn't bring our gear, though I'm sure your people here would be able to supply us with some."

Parting with the feminine rest the two Presidents and their younger male offspring headed west to the water head with tackle boxes, poles, and sunscreen dabbed deeply into the skin of every Gunnlo-Gallian Ambrosian boy. Hirschfeld revealed himself as a liar when he delegated the task of teaching knots to an older boy: grandson Gregory of his son Robert Junior. "If I come back and those Sylvanian boys can't tie and untie the Gordian knot, you will have failed me Gregory!" Robert jested through a tender nod and squinted eyes.

With their vast families disposed President Hirschfeld took the opportunity to shake Breckenridge's hand again in seclusion, "You can call me Rob, out here or in public. I'd like to thank you for coming out to talk outside of a boardroom or palace." Robert remarked before fiddling with his own hooks and lines, cursing a bit to himself as he failed to remember what bait and lure worked best out on the Great White Lake that Sylvania and Ambrosia shared.

"Let's say you take the first shot at it, eh?" Robert smiled through his rapidly whitening beard, standing back to let Ashley Breckenridge prepare and cast his line. "I'm about at the end of my political career, Ash . . " President Hirschfeld offered before leaning into a pier post for physical support. Robert had been shot in the knee as a middling police officer in Saint Theosburg some twenty years ago before embarking on a political career.

"I will be replaced by B.L. Suthers," he said with great certainty, "the party wants it, the Bureau wants it, and she commands both."

Regaining his balance finally, Robert cast out a line with a spent cigarette he had found at shore as bait. He had his suspicions that it belonged to Clint, the sixteen year old boy who had opted for the sauna behind Breckenridge's fifteen year old daughter. "I'm eccentric, but not a complete idiot. I've asked our mutual security teams to ensure that Engell-cast boy doesn't lay a finger on your fair daughter."

Breckenridge was not here for a cross border cousins skirmish Hirschfeld knew, so he carried the conversation forward to the economies of their respective nations: "I'd say if we catch a fish right now a Johnston boy will surface like a merman and ask how long and what its weight is," Robert joked, "I've heard tell they aim to present a trade agreement to us. I'd be lying to you like I did Gregory if I didn't say I know it's been pitched to you as well."

Ambrosians had historically seen the Johnston's as bitter agriculture rivals in the industries of beef, corn, and soy. Now however as the Ambrosian economy transitioned towards that service-based these prejudices were rapidly dying out with the farmers and their lobbyists in the capital. Reeling slowly for a bit Robert turned to President Breckenridge saw that he was facing him at his good eye.

"We want to count the Augustine Islands, of Elben of course, in on that deal." Robert floated with a flick of his fishing line. "It's not a deal breaker, but uhh, peaceful access to those ports and markets might prove beneficial in those rough waters ahead?"

Ash's pole and line began to jangle and throb out towards the Great White Lake.

Breckenridge began to reel in his line, whatever he had caught wasn't that strong and soon it was in his hand.

"Heh bluegill." He said as he unhooked the tiny fish and let it go.

"Suthers huh? She was a marine wasn't she? Rare bird that. We have had so many women try out for the Raiders but they can never make it through the program, can't even find a woman who can pass through the standard basic training program for the non-Raider units." He gave Hirschfeld a sidelong glance as he spoke about Suthers.

"When I was in the Navy we thought those marines a bunch of dumb hicks, but boy when I saw em coming across the beaches in Strathclyde, that was something else." Breckenridge's eye glossed over as he thought about his time in the skies over Strathclyde. He quickly snapped out of it though and cast his line out again.

He wasn't too worried about his daughter, she had been training in Touzenese form of martial arts as an after school activity and even if the boy managed to overpower her the security teams, as Hirschfeld, had said would take care of it.

"We've had a Islanders come to us in an unofficial capacity, putting out feelers as the diplomats might say. Nothing official yet, but its something that we might be open to if the right deals are made. I understand your country is transitioning toward a more service oriented economy, but Sylvania is still deeply entrenched in raw materials and manufacturing, there has to be some sort of protections or else we could see our entire economy slip away from us before we even know it." It wasn't the mention of Johnston Island that piqued is interest though, it was the mention of the Augustines.

"Now Elben is another thing, we reached out to them after I took over after the... well, lets not mention that." Breckenridge said, clearly not wanting to go anywhere near the revelations of the last administration's heinous crimes. He visibly shuddered, still disturbed by the very notion, there wasn't much that put fear or anxiety into his heart, but Snyder's crimes was one of the few things.

"Excuse me. Anyways, they were polite but not receptive. They are too deeply mired in the threat of communism to worry about much I think, but yes it would be nice to have access to those ports." Breckenridge knew why Hirshfeld had mentioned the Augustines, but would let him broach the subject of the military reasons why rather than preempt the aging president.

"Suthers is trying to prove something," Robert both said and criticized, "... among the first class of female Marines that mostly washed out, and has been breaking glass ceiling after ceiling . . Angrily I might add." Hirschfeld grumbled as he deposited Breckenridge's catch away in a cooler, returning to chuck the President on the shoulder with a returned grin.

As the conversation progressed and Ash dodged the Snyder issue Robert nodded and sighed, "You know: Jillian never agreed to come down here and I never agreed to go . . up there, you know the spot," President Hirschfeld said, "When I addressed the Westernesse States on that - that aberration I reminded the Ambrosian people that while, I uhh, while she was uniquely evil . . she required an international band of sycophants to perform her disgusting fancies."

"And I think that's why I wanted to talk to you here, not about her, but about another her that does not represent the soul of a people and nation." Robert admitted, washing his hands off in the lake before returning to height.

"It has to be done. Justosia needs to be toppled before they spread their lunacy on such a scale as the Anti-State, or Kadiki-Union." Robert said with a wince, turning to his counterpart to gauge his reaction.

"Ash, I'm not an anti-communist, an anti-capitalist. I'm an up-jumped Saint Theosburg police officer who approaches each problem differently."

"I'll answer the question you didn't ask though, about Suthers, I'll endorse that bitch because she will fight an issue of spirit past discomfort than any man beneath me."

"Suthers warned me of Snyder when she was a secretary to a secretary of the FSB" Robert acknowledged uncomfortably, "What I am getting at is: I think she will work her butt off for righteous causes, work like hell, and never give up on doing what's right . . " Hirscheld said, shaking his head, "her boss died in the shootout, and the former FSB Chief took the easy retirement thereafter."

"Practically, Ash . ." Robert said and groaned as he lowered himself to sit on the dock, taking off boat shoes to touch the water with his toes as his grandchildren did later down the line. ". . You and I need to take this swing together. I don't think you can trust in the Touz or Pohjan, or trust in old King Trusty's Johns." Hirschfeld kicked the greens beneath him in the water trying to identify them with his toes.

"I think this world needs a pilot who's lost his sight and found a path again, or a someone like Suthers' who knows her place between the shit chute between Sylvania and Beautancus."

Ash reflected on Hirschfeld's comments on Snyder, he knew that it was an international effort and that other nations had felt the affects, not as hard as Sylvania had to deal with, but others were affected as well. It was something that he sometimes forgot having been caught so deep in Sylvanian politics as the sudden leader of his country.

As for Sylvania's relationship with the Anti-State and post-delegationist Pohjanmaa, they were friends for a few decades now, they had worked to create a basic integration of their military together and share intelligence. Hirschfeld wasn't attempting to drive a wedge, but it wasn't a matter of trusting the other two signatories to join him in a war with Justosia.

"I understand what you are talking about, but lets make one thing clear, I cannot compel the other DDI nations to start a war with me and I am not in the business of starting wars myself." He said, standing up and facing out toward the lake, casting his line out again.

"However... the Justosians must be dealt with in some form or another as they have become increasingly erratic. As for the ODS nations, I can't say what will happen with them. Eiffelland is tying itself at the hip with Justosia and I have no doubt that the Justosians are attempting to lean on the Eiffellanders to try and get the ODS to at least let them alone or perhaps find a backdoor into membership with their alliance. I wouldn't trust any of them to want to join into this, Johnston Island, maybe as they are of similar cloth to us westermen. Despite our three nation's mutual distaste for the Engell ways I wouldn't count on them to come and join our mission so to speak.

As for Beautancus, what of them? You might be in the shit chute for them, but Sylvania has never looked upon Ambrosia as anything less than fellow democrats and westermen, sure there is always competition but it has been friendly so far, even during the last administration who looked down on everyone and everything."

Ash reeled his line in and sat down next to Hirshfeld on his good eye's side. "You may already know that I've been moving the majority of my fleet into the Silk. And you may already know that it is response to the Justosian menace. It is not a matter of if, but when. That is what I think, that is what my civvie advisors think and what the Joint Chiefs think."

Ash smiled, "So Rob, you want to go in on this together then?"

"That's the about the size of it," Rob agreed, "we've done a lot of research on the Justosians and their regime."

"They're a people without hope . ." Hirschfeld grasped as if searching for something in the aether. Instead he felt a bit on his line,"Ohhaaww, hell!" he exclaimed before drawing in a line of kelp and an empty lure. "And uhh, that just ain't right. About those Jusosians I mean."

Robert put the pole down and itched his head for a moment to clear his brain from a flashback of a dead child he had pulled ashore as a police officer twenty years or more ago. Robert came to the water for the sake of his Grandchildren, yet memories like these kept him away from visiting on his own. He had and would continue to fail at being a great fisherman for this and a lack of trying.

None the less Hirschfeld nodded, smirked, and met his counterpart for a handshake. "We're in, and we'll see it through. There is an economy down there beyond our sea that drowns and rots beneath those tacky despots."

"But, I think I hear our kids are having better luck . ." Robert suggested after a roar from the lower docks, kids of both Breckenridge and Hirschfeld's grandchildren running to show off their catches from the day.

"I think we've got something to work with here, eh?"

---END THREAD---