Hail Sylvania

Discussion in 'The World Stage' started by Sylvania, May 23, 2019.

    Loading...
  1. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    Continued from Bradford County's Finest

    Ashley Breckenridge slept peacefully spooning his wife Keira who slumbered along with him. His day had been a normally hectic one with his new leadership position in congress. He had come home to four rowdy children and an ever patient wife who prepared dinner for him. He listened to his children tell stories of their lessons and various after school activities, lightly scolded his oldest for failing to do his homework assignments and enjoyed an after dinner whiskey cocktail. Life after the attempt on his life was not so different, he wore an eyepatch which elicited funny looks now and then from passersby, but his wife said it made him look dashing so he cared little and his depth perception was terrible but he was learning to cope quickly. He did not know that his life would change dramatically.

    A furious rapping at the front door of the townhouse the Breckenridge’s rented awoke Ashley. His first thought was to get his gun, but guns were banned in Charleroi, even for politicians. Then his phone began to vibrate on his night stand.

    “Breckenridge.” He answered.

    “Ash it’s me Kay. I am at your front door, its imperative we talk.”

    Breckenridge hung up and put a shirt and pants on. His wife began to stir. “Ash, what’s going on. It’s four in the morning!”

    “Kay’s here I have no idea why. It must be important. You just try and get some sleep. I’ll see whats wrong.”

    Breckenridge came out of the master bedroom and made his way down the steps, he could see Kay looking through the door’s window in even the dark. He yawned, turned the lights on in the foyer and the doorstep and opened the door rubbing his eye.

    Kay burst in and headed into the living room.

    Breckenridge sighed and muttered under his breath as he closed the door and followed her in. He stood and watched her pace around the room, her cellphone in hand, furiously texting away. She was at least ten years younger then him, five foot four inches with brown hair and green eyes, a freak about exercise and the Chairwoman of the Federalist party. She had been recruited along with Breckenridge and many others like them in an attempt to bring young blood into the party and it was working. She had been promoted fast and while part of that may have been an effort to soften the look of the Federalists to younger generations, she was extremely intelligent and a natural leader.

    “Have you checked your email?” She asked, ceasing her frantic pacing.

    “No of course not, I check that at the door when I come home, you know that.”

    “Dammit, Ashley. I know you are all about the work life balance, but control of Sylvania hangs in the balance and I don’t have time for you to be out of the loop.” A look of exasperated anger flashed across her face as she said that. “We need to get down to the Capitol.”

    “What for? What’s going on Kay?”

    “Something incredible has happened, Ash, the President fled the country and we think Ellington is dead.”

    Breckenridge’s eyes widened. “You are kidding? Are we under attack?”

    “Not exactly, I’ll explain to you in the car. Please just get ready.”

    Breckenridge left Kay in the living room and walked back to his bedroom to prepare for what lay ahead. He walked over to Keira and slightly nudged her. He explained he had to go but neglected to say why. Keira understood that sometimes he couldn’t tell her why. He looked longingly in her blue eyes, knowing that he would be apart from her for far too long. He cleaned himself up as quickly as he could, he had gotten used to taking quick showers in the Navy when he used to fly a F-21A Super Longsword. He combed his brown hair and stared for a moment at his round face in the mirror. He affixed his eyepatch over where he once had a left eye, his remaining brown eye gazing back at him, he got dressed and met back up with Kay who stood next to an awaiting government SUV.
     
  2. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    Skies over the North Thaumantic

    Continental One, a heavily modified Jupiter Aerojet J-1011 TriStar, was one hundred and fifty miles south of Eisgarten, Snyder had breathed a sigh of relief, they would land in Pohjanmaa and declare statelessness, that would buy them time as what was left of the government was reformed and restructured in the chaos caused by her crimes and leave them arguing with fickle post-delegationists over extradition laws.

    On board with Snyder was her entire cabinet and about ten Continental Congress people that had also taken part in financing the Order. The pilots and crew she had bribed with a few million silver dollars each a small portion of the money she had stashed away and was able to take with her.

    Back in Charleroi as Snyder began to fall into sleep, Ashley Breckenridge stood in the chambers of the Continental Congress with his left hand upon the Constitution and his right arm outstretched, his palm up in the direction of the unfurled national banner in front of him as he spoke the oath of office.

    “I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the Office of President of the Continental Republic, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the Continental Republic.”

    Only a few people could make the ceremony to be witnesses of the act and the constitutionality of it all was suspect, the Vice President was dead but the President was not. However rules needed to be bent to maintain a command structure for the decapitated government.

    Hours after Snyder and her fellow criminals had fled the situation room for Continental One, Breckenridge sat in with the Chief of Naval operations and the Commandant of the Marine Corps (The rest had fled with Snyder and the Admiral and Commandant had not been implicated by the whistle blowers). Finding Snyder was top priority alive or dead.

    “Preferably alive, so she can be put on trial.” Breckenridge explained to his remaining Chiefs.

    Admiral Kurt Bannerman pulled a map of the North Thaumantic. “We believe that Snyder is somewhere south east of Eisgarten of Engellachia. Our carrier The CRS Thunderchild is still operating in the area and is receiving radar returns on Continental One as she hugs the borderline between international and Engellachian airspace. It would only be a matter of launching a few Longswords and forcing them to turn back.

    “And if they don’t turn back?” Breckenridge asked pensively.

    “Well we could force them down into Eisgarten and hope on what little goodwill we have with Engellachia and the Engells that they will turn her and her co-conspirators over to us.”

    “Bullshit!” Commandant Frazier Winters burst out. “I say we send a covert team of Marine Raiders to capture her and whoever lives through the raid, we use the Falwell Surface to Air Recovery System to get them out before the Engellachians ever knew what hit them. If they didn’t see a bunch of Engellexic fighter bombers coming at them to bomb Vesper, they won’t see us either.”

    Breckenridge shook his head. “I’m not going to make my first act as President a raid on foreign soil, even if its to capture that evil bitch.” He’d keep that action in his back pocket as a last resort.

    “Alright, well we know what needs to be done. Do it.”

    Everyone stood up, the Chiefs saluted and Breckenridge returned it feeling like he was in the Navy again.


    C.R.S. Thunderchild, North Thaumantic.

    Only ten minutes passed from the time the order was given to the time two F-21A Super Longswords took to the skies. The sun was beginning to rise as the catapults launched the aircraft, afterburners propelling them upwards as fast as they could climb.

    “We have them on RADAR.” The pilots reported.

    On Continental One a high pitched tone squealed loudly in the cockpit.

    “Holy shit, someone has a lock on us.”

    The UHF guard frequency came to life. “Continental One, this is Majestic Seven One, make a right turn to one eight zero and prepare to be escorted back to Anchorhead Naval Air Station. Acknowledge. The pilots of Continental One hesitated to respond.

    The Commander of the C.R.S Thunderchild ordered through the flight controller to fire guns over the wing as a warning.

    Majestic Seven One let out a quick burst of 20mm from the Vulcan Cannon.

    “Jesus Christ, they are firing at us!” Motivated by fear and greed the pilot made a steep turn to the left toward Engellachian airspace and began to descend. The occupants of Continental One who weren’t wearing seat belts were thrown about the cabin. Snyder awoke her stomach feeling the pressure of the G’s of the turn.

    “Thunderchild, Majestic Seven One, they are making evasive toward Engellachian airspace.

    Breckenridge was listening to the entire exchange in the situation room, nervousness tearing up his stomach. “We can’t let them escape. Shoot them down.”

    Thunderchild relayed the orders to Majestic.

    “I have a lock, Fox Two!”

    The missile raced toward Continental one and struck her right engine, pieces of engine and cowling ripped like shrapnel into the fuselage, depressurizing the aircraft and killing a few of the passengers. The air rushed out of the plane, oxygen masks dropped down from their compartments, terrified screams and wails filled the plane over the sound of rushing air. Snyder became sick and threw up in her mask and on herself. The plane was still in a steep turn and now almost a dive.

    “Direct hit, Majestic, is she going down?” Thunderchild came over the radio.

    “Her right wing is on fire, Thunderchild, she’s crossed over into Engellachian airspace do I have permission to fire again.”

    “Negative, Majestic, ROE states you cannot pursue or fire IN to Engellachian airspace. Damn it"

    On Continental One chaos reigned as the plane continued its steep descent to below ten thousand feet to get to where the oxygen was. They had no choice but to make an emergency landing at Eisgarten.

    W. Engell Republic">@W. Engell Republic
     
  3. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    Eisgarten’s Tourism & Culture Airfield

    Airfield firefighters and paramedics were the first to arrive on scene, fearlessly approaching the nearly wrecked plane, Continental One, mostly because they were entirely unaware of who was on board and what this plane in need of attention represented. To their surprise the passengers on board, if alive, were armed or hostile to them if not running directly into their arms for care. The primarily German speaking Eisgarters quickly became confused with the situation, fearing for their own safety, and immediately called over a radio for security intervention which was already arriving by the time the mics were clicked off.

    Heydendahl Défense Solutions’ Guard trucks, pick-ups mostly made in Sylvania itself, came screeching in and around the plane with guns at the ready, dismounting and shouting through light accents or something closer to Sylvanian Engellsh to “Kiss the tarmac!”. This round of first responders also had no real grasp on who they were dealing with, besides that it was a hostile Sylvanian plane. As best they could, and with some resistance from Sylvanian Federal Agents, they were able to down and plastic zipper cuff everyone not being cared for by paramedics within five minutes.

    In ten another round of HDS illuminated the sky with old and loud helicopters, shining spotlights on the entire scene before likewise outdated armored personnel carriers bought once again from Sylvania came hurdling into the scene. These operators were shouting through the chaos in German to the airfield employees, some of whom were frozen in shock at the entire showcase of martial response. These operators knew who to find in the litter of detained bodies, and plucked that of Jillian Snyder up and into the air with four men after capping her head off with a black bag.

    Most were soon piled on to a painted over school bus used for trainee transportation, while Snyder herself was tied up further before being raised up towards a helicopter by a rescue litter. Snyder was kept strapped in to this litter on board the helicopter for the duration of a short five minute flight back to the HDS Corporate Footprint. On the ground she was then loaded off and on to a stretcher, wheeled rapidly at a jog into a large conference room actively being converted into a warehouse of smaller containment pods fitted together to serve as cells.

    Whatever words she spoke, the operators ignored entirely, as they waited for the largest of such pods to be completed. Once finished, Snyder was rolled in, unstrapped and had the bag removed from her head. Still however they ignored her jeers or pleas, instead placing goggles over her eyes, noise canceling earmuffs over her ears, and a strange kind of oven mitt like pair of gloves over her hands. Finally she was strapped into a chair tightly around her abdomen, somewhat like a big hug with a padded harness.

    “Bloody cunt!” a Vesplander born operator shouted, “I could snap that neck of yours like the rat you are!”, though all knew beneath the earmuffs she would never hear it.
     
  4. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    Charleroi, Sylvania

    Aisling Derring, a red haired career woman dressed in a green coat and skirt with white lining, pushed through a set of doors to begin negotiations with the constitution minded leaders of Sylvania. Aisling, much like the other HDS private officers, had a low opinion of government bureaucrats yet their entire business centered around extracting money from their taxpayers by any means legal or on the borderline.

    “Mister Heydendahl is on business with the Confederacy, Beautancus I mean, and due to the rapid pace of these events he wished to forward an apology that he could not attend this meeting personally or virtually,” Ms. Derring offered, “it is none the less his intent to return to Eisgarten by sunrise tomorrow to assess the captured commodities personally.”

    At forty four years old, Aisling was clinging on to her beauty like a mermaid to a sailor, and after a brutal divorce late last year just after the Catastrophe she has been hitting the gym harder and watching her diet like a fanatic to maintain what she knew she would soon lose to time. Heydendahl, both the company and the man were beginning to take over her entire life, then still the entire country of Engellachia, and now a President from their much larger neighbor.

    “Do not think us unaware that Snyder is the most sought after commodity in Westernesse,” Aisling expressed, “We thank you for not inflicting further violence upon our company headquarters and intend to negotiate the exchange of all other detained commodities exclusively with Sylvania. Additionally, the bodies or remains of the deceased will be returned to your state authorities immediately - is this an acceptable starting point?”
     
  5. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    Aisling Derring at the mere mention of having information on Snyder had been whisked away to Cairnwood house, the Executive Mansion. Driving there had been slow going as angry looking armed protesters blocked many streets. Even though they attempted to avoid protesters, upon recognizing the vehicle as a government owned transport had thrown a full coffee cup, the sound of it's impact rattling the nerves of those inside.

    Cairnwood House had been the home of a wealthy fur trader who had donated the property to the new government set up the revolutionary Federalists who had founded the country as home for the first President. It had been remodeled and expanded several times since then in the same style or styles complimentary to its original construction. The property had been located on several hundred wooded acres that had been slowly consumed by sprawl of Charleroi and the construction of several executive offices used in service of the executive branch. Only an acre of the wooded landscape had been maintained, the once mighty oaks and cherry trees now relegated to the small area and cut back to maintain lines of sight to the house. Two cairns stood at the driveway entrance, an iron fence built into them.

    Derring was escorted to the President's office where Breckenridge was taking a moment of respite from the madness of the whole situation. In the last 48 hours he had only seen his wife and children for perhaps thirty minutes before he had been swept away and he had slept very little the entire time. The secretary, who had been brought over from the Federalist Party HQ as the other one was AWOL, introduced Aisling Derring to Breckenridge who listened to her haughty way of speaking. Breckenridge had not stood as she entered to greet her, but he stood now.


    "Do not presume, Miss Aisling, to lecture me on what I am and am not aware of." His face and tone conveying his extreme annoyance. "I find it extremely interesting that I should be addressed by an officer of a private corporation rather than an appropriate representative of the West Engell Republic and yet perhaps I am speaking to the appropriate representative of your home country."

    She wasn't wrong, Snyder was already commanding high bounties in several nations who were no doubt vying to have her as a propaganda victory of some sort. It was like fighter school all over again, he a rookie had found himself in compromised positioning with the cutthroats of Westernesse.

    "And it should be no surprise that the extortion of my people should continue at the behest of Mister Heydendahl. I can only assume that Veronica North and Felix Ilchester were not employed, like so many are, by Mister Heydendahl, their bodies shall be returned immediately as well. So yes, it is an acceptable starting point, let us discuss what Mister Heydendahl wants for the most wanted woman in Westernesse and her retinue of human horrors."
     
  6. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    Miss Derring crossed her arms defensively and endured the response of President Breckenridge. While he spoke she found a chair and took it without invitation, crossing her arms tighter and pursing her lips. No one, let alone Aisling, could prepare at all for this type of commodity negotiation - it was unprecedented in modern commodity exchange.

    “Democracy is a dead god, and government the perfidious fiction of our epoch!“ Aisling spat, at the comment of private corporations versus Engellachian government representation. After the break in Ash’s speech Aisling relaxed the tension of her shoulders and remembered Karl’s children and his sympathetic instructions. “Mister Heydendahl has two beautiful children of his own,” Aisling told, “the absolute terror your wife and children must have gone and will go through now as President, he does not envy any of it and forwards his regards to you as you both share the most important job of all: safely raising your children.”

    Aisling sighed and uncrossed her arms from their tight clamp and stood to meet his eyes on their level, “But politicians are the mobsters in the middle, we need only view the naked corpses of Ilchester and North, to know their worth and what they truly stood for!” Aisling reminded, perhaps only to herself. “You market yourself as a man who values liberty, but will you roll back Snyder’s government education complex, or TRULY restore your citizens rights to organize their own defense?”

    “To me Snyder is not worth the fuel spent to cremate and pulverize her wretched bones,” Aisling admitted frankly, “But to our Cussian partners this commodity can fetch several hundred million pounds . .” Aisling said, stepping close enough now to touch, “And before I name a price or hear your impassioned counter-offer, I need to ask if you have considered that if we return her to you - she will armor herself with lawyers from her tribe and escape the justice Beautancus would certainly serve her without consideration of this stipulation that when she did what she did she did as ‘President of Sylvania’?”

    Aisling waited now, considering that an Engellachian could never truly win when their nature dictated that they speak honestly to the point of being downright rude and contemptible.
     
  7. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    Breckenridge stepped away from Aisling after she posed her question about Snyder and her lawyers. He walked over to the whiskey cabinet and thought of getting himself a drink, but he decided against it. He took his place behind his desk, it was large and it didn't feel right to him, perhaps it would in time.

    "I would give it up... you know... all of it if it meant I could go home and grow old with no worries. I could have been a pilot, but now I can't even do that." He gestured to the eye patch. Did she care? Probably not, but he felt the need to say it.

    "But if I did that who would do this? This is my burden now and I must serve to the best of my ability. I do not market myself as a man of liberty, I served this country in the militia as a teenager, before it was disbanded, I served the country in the military, served my community and state in Congress and now I must serve it as President. I have been fighting Democratic Socialist rule for a long time now, so when I say that I am committed to restoring Sylvania to what it once was? That's a promise I intend to keep. Their grip has been broken by the few patriots who have discovered this whole mess and I shall not let their initiative be wasted."

    Breckenridge leaned forward in his chair, his right finger pointing at Derring as he spoke. "Make no mistake, I shall not plead to have Snyder and her ilk back. It would please me to see her suffer at the hands of the Cussian state. But I will not allow them to steal away the revenge that the Sylvanian people deserve. There is no lawyer in this country that can save her now, not even from her tribe, for her tribe values only two things, money and power and she has neither. The greatest challenge will be getting her to court alive, perhaps you might have seen the armed people walking through the streets of this city. Sylvanians are slow to wake, but when they do, there is nothing in this world that can calm their anger."

    Breckenridge leaned back in his chair, his elbows on the arm rests and his hands clasped together in front of him. "I cannot offer you several hundred million, but there are things I am sure that might be worth more to Mister Heydendahl that would offer much more over time. Either that or name a satisfactory price and let us be done with this unprecedented exchange of commodity."
     
  8. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    Ms. Derring nodded sympathetically after Mr. Breckinridge gestured towards his eye. In Eisgarten’s Culture a dueling scar was a mark of honor, though a poor substitute for a real scar from combat. As he continued she found herself falling into a deep concern for him, for even though he seemed confidently up to the task she knew the life he wanted and deserved for he and his family was forever out of reach.

    “Ever so sorry Mister President, but may I take a seat and take a moment to start over?” Aisling asked, toning towards respect and deference to him for the first time. “I have met monsters and snakes in my career with HDS, and the Foreign Office before that, and you sir I am convinced are neither.”

    “You could have been here anyways by merit, but I urge you to ask yourself why a moneyed elite put you here now, and what you will have to do for them to remain or walk away without further damage.” Ms. Derring reminded with a gesture to her eye.

    “You are flying with eagles now, vicious raptors, and if you have ever seen how one fights another for a shard of frozen meat, well . . Mister President, some free advice would be guard your flanks with people you intimately trust, because covert and direct violence shall reign in Westernesse in the decade to come.” Aisling cleared her throat and rested her pale hands together on her knee, “This is not a threat, I am just stating a fact.”

    “Now back to business, if I may?” the career woman asked. “Mister Heydendahl is primarily a personnel provider for security contracts, but he is interested in expanding in to the military manufacturing industry to support our corporate operations. In trade for the commodities, yes well citizens of Sylvania, who accompanied Snyder we would like to acquire schematics and the legal right to clone your most modern jet.”

    “I personally do not think we could reproduce the bloody thing in Eisgarten or the factories we are acquiring elsewhere,” Aisling admitted without divulging where elsewhere was, “but this is what my Chief Executive has asked for in exchange for the Sylvanian Citizens who are charged with trespassing on his fair Eisgarten. Is this offer amenable to you Mister President?”
     
    Pohjanmaa and Beautancus like this.
  9. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    Grenadier-Konferenzzentrum / Grenadier Conference Center,
    Heydendahl Defense Headquarters,
    Eisgarten, West Engell Republic

    Doctor Dukes stumbled into Snyder's containment cell, reaching to stabilize on the shoulder of an HDS guard who stood unflinching in his death stare towards the silent President, still harnessed down six hours later at 3 A.M.

    "Let's get her undressed, eh boys?" the Doctor, high on his own amphetamines suggested. The two guards took it as an order and began by removing her earmuffs and goggles, sending Jillian Snyder in to a thrash of reintroduction to reality. As they attempted to undress her traditional clothes she fought and squirmed away from them, shouting words and squeals they were trained to ignore.

    "I brought some scissors for just such an occasion!" Dukes said with a giggle. With the shears in hand, the smaller of the two guards proceeded to cut through her clothing to render her naked. The larger guard grabbed her by the hair and kicked the back of her legs to bring her to a painful kneel.

    The private military Doctor made eye contact with the she-rat for the first time and erupted in to laughter, "Oh how I've been waiting for someone like you!" Dukes shouted, "What an opportunity this is, to break the broken, and a President! Isn't that amazing gentleman?" the Doctor said. "Was als nächstes?" the smaller guard answered with a question.

    "Well time is short, Jillian. We need to go on a trip together, hahah, physically and psychologically of course, I hope you're as ready as I am . . But alas, our time is short, I'm not the only man in Westernesse who wants to play with your brain chunks!"

    ---
    Outside in Open Air Eisgarten

    "It's kind of like smear the queer isn't it?" Buck Garside asked, "We caught the golden egg out of the sky, but fuck, if we don't split fast or pass it off we're gonna get smashed and dogpiled!"

    The Engellachian's analogy was lost on his Eisgarten counterparts, who simply stared it him before one asked: "Why is everything something else with you Engellachians? Snyder is a commodity, not a golden egg, and we must transport the product to the buyer. What is special here?"

    Buck shook his head, "Anyways, let me explain what we're trying to do here: five semi-trucks arrive here in half an hour. They are identical, or as best as we could do, and we will load a person in a wheel chair covered with a blanket on each truck. Are you following me?" Garside asked. "Ja?" the Eisgartmen answered in unison.

    "Well shucks. We can expect Sylvanian and Cussian satellites to be here in the morning, but tonight I reckon only Sylvanian aerial surveillance . . So they are going to have to choose which'un to follow, right?" Garside asked, but at this point his audience refused to participate further. "One truck goes to the airfield, loads her on a jet. Another goes to the port, loads her on to a ship. One truck just drives around all night, wonder if she's there huh?" Buck asked with a chuckle, "Heck, I hate you guys. One never leaves the building and after a few hours the person is wheeled back in. Now the final one, and listen to this, the group of us are going to run off the road to take the commodity hostage in the city, doesn't that sound fun?"

    "Sei still und fahr!" an Eisgartman named Horst, no relation, barked.
     
    Last edited: May 26, 2019
  10. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    Breckenridge reflected upon Aisling's warning to him, perhaps she did care. Seeing that she had softened her approach, they had both perhaps disarmed each other and where now in a more comfortable mood.

    "There it is. Military technology worth 100 times more than what they could get the bounty for." He saw what she was doing, there was no way she thought that he would or even could give her the technical specs of even Sylvania's oldest fighter platform, let alone the Agile Wyvern.

    "Indeed you are correct, the industrial and technical capacity for the construction of an even the airframe of the Agile Wyvern is an undertaking only a few countries can undertake. I think you know that I cannot agree to such a trade. The Department of Defense and Jupiter Aerojet are very sensitive about these technologies. To give you the technical specs of this aircraft to produce in some far off country without the oversight that would be required, the security clearances that are only given to select Sylvanians would be almost treasonous on my part."

    Breckenridge sat and stared placidly at Aisling for a moment before continuing.

    "However, perhaps we can be of service in other ways. Training Eisgartenmen beyond what is available in their home country in advanced engineering techniques, investing in building facilities capable of producing high quality weapons primarily to HDS and HDS subsidiaries, creating frameworks through which HDS and Sylvanian companies like Juptier Aerojet or Continental Consolidated, etcetera to collaborate on homegrown Engellachian built weapons. A military industrial complex all of your own, funded by your new friend and partner, the Continental Republic of Sylvania. Of course, this is not just all for Snyder and her ilk, but we will require a bit more to sweeten the pot. Perhaps military units stationed in Engellachia and extension of the Sylvanian defense network, for the defense of both our peoples." Perhaps this is more agreeable and I think perhaps we get what we both want in the end. HDS gets to expand its abilities beyond what its capable of now and the Continental Republic expands its influence north."
     
  11. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    “President Breckinridge,” Aisling said, shaking her head, “There will be no uniformed presence of Sylvanian troops posted in Engellachia, strike that from your mind immediately.” The boot on their neck from Beautancus and the Thaumantic Dominion would not for a moment allow it, ready to crush the Engellachians if they squirmed the wrong way.

    “We are discussing the value of cleared federal agents, citizens, and an elected President’s staff not unlike you will surround yourself and your family with.” Aisling reminded aloud. “What I hear you offering, and I think this is a deal maker, is defense contract engineers cleared to work in Eisgart out of uniform to push our military tech operation from the crawl to walk phase?”

    “Snyder’s contract is still being negotiated separately from her staff,” Aisling said, crossing her arms now again defensively, “Her crimes rise above anything one person can comprehend, and for this commodity we are seeking the highest value for the highest catharsis your country or theirs will have in delivering justice!”
     
    Beautancus, Pelasgia and Sylvania like this.
  12. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    "Do you think me a fool? What I have offered you is paramount to tens of billions of dollars worth of investment and man hours into HDS and its subsidiaries. One does not take a military tech operation from a crawl to a walk on pocket change. If this is only satisfactory for part of the deal, than we shall play these games no longer!" Breckenridge scoffed.

    "Catharsis is worth only so much to me, perhaps you have forgotten but the man truly responsible for these crimes is already dead, riddled with bullets. I'd say a large part of the catharsis has been had! At the start of this we were only talking several hundred million and now you mean to move the goal posts even further."

    Breckenridge's frustration got the better of him for a moment. "I understand what game you are playing, but what I don't understand is this game to be the highest bidder for the life of some old hag. If the Cussians or other Engells want to waste their money buying her commodity, than so be it. I have over one hundred other men and women who need to be tried for their crimes, a people's rage to calm, their rights to restore! I have a country to rebuild!"

    "If you cannot agree to these terms then make a reasonable counter offer, if not, then safe travels and farewell."
     
    Serenierre, Beautancus and Pelasgia like this.
  13. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    Miss Derring apologized as she reached for her angrily vibrating cellphone, a text over the screen from the commodity contracts adjustment number revealed “Could not pass on Cussian deal for the big fish, ask for a year of tax haven status per head for remaining 30”. Aisling sighed and tucked to her side the troublesome device.

    “They have indeed wasted their money on that bitter bitch,” Aisling groaned, but the phone was ringing now, the ID: ‘Herr Heydendahl’.

    “Yes sir, I am with the President. I will ask, yes” Aisling said before putting the phone to her chest, “Mr. President, my employer would like me to place him on speaker phone for a few moments?”

    “I’d like to apologize for the informality of all of this sir,” Karl Heydendahl said through the device, “And apologize that we could not deliver Snyder to you as Sylvania desires and deserves, this woman has ruined countless lives but fetched an unreal sum . .”

    Aisling winced at that visibly, before placing the phone on the desk down and away from her.

    “I am going to invest as much as it takes into preserving the future of those rescued kids. We can cover their medical bills, if your government will allow, ensure they receive the psychological help they need, and provide them with handsome college or apprenticeship stipends as they raise up and try to take control of their future. But what about those Sylvanian citizens, Aisling?”

    Ms. Derring leaned in towards the phone and President, “We are asking the President now for a year of tax haven status for each citizen returned, is that fair President Breckinridge?”

    “Excuse Ms. Derring’s tact,” Karl offered with a chuckle, “we picked her up from the Foreign Office after the catastrophe, so just give a few more months with her, she’ll grow a soul yet!”

    Aisling pursed her lips and curled her brows, “Auf Wiedersehen!” she blurted before clicking him off. “He will sooner change our country than change me!” Ms. Derring declared.
     
    Serenierre, Beautancus and Sylvania like this.
  14. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    On a Plane Above the North Thaumantic

    “Oh, well hello there” Karl Heydendahl greeted from a disembodied voice emanating through fractal patterns, “I wish to congratulate you for committing your commodity contract of service to participating in Pilot Program Willow - this adjustment process is experimental at present, but with willing sacrifices of participation from folks like you: we can adjust mankind’s course from scientifically determined destruction to a corporeal pathway to the cosmos!”

    President Snyder twitched and slurred a protest from behind her goggles with a dimmed iBone virtual reality screen attached. Aboard a cargo airplane containing mercenary re-supply of ammunition and food, the President’s location was in the strict confidence of roughly ten Engellachians employed by Heydendahl Defense Solutions, and a small but unknown number of Cussians tipped off after settling negotiation for her commodity contract. The plane was uncovered by accompanying aircraft, and the pilots maintained a strictly standard dialogue with air traffic control in Bearskull Junction, the largest city in WER’s Northern Territory.

    “You’re sitting comfortably I hope,” Karl piped back in on the recording, “You have a right and left foot pedal on your chair, right means yes or I agree, left means no or I disagree. Pedal now if you understand?”.

    Snyder slammed the left pedal hard, and the fractal images collapsed into a video of a Loagoan child screaming - it would loop every 10 seconds until she selected yes, and after 45 she did. Her display faded into a beachside in Clarenthia, calm foaming waves approaching and receding.

    “Life is all about choices,” Karl’s voice said, “good or bad, each carrying consequences. This program is all about adjusting your selections towards choices that will benefit you and prepare you for positive participation in Thaumantic Civilization. Does that sound like something you would like?”

    Snyder pressed no again, triggering a selection of recordings that showed an insane man writhing in a padded cell, someone cutting their veins and losing consciousness as their blood continues to spurt out, and in the center field of vision a camera hurdling towards the earth shaking as someone screams through the rips of wind. Snyder did not flinch until the screen went black as the camera and jumper hit the ground.

    “Choices have consequences” Karl reminded, and for the next hour heavy metal music and a flashes of bright colors assaulted her eyes in the patterns of phrases like “submit” and “cooperate”, or subliminal shapes of patriotic symbols - in this case Engellexian, the program was not designed for Sylvanians at all and lacked an adjustment path for someone like Snyder directly.
     
  15. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    The feelings Breckenridge were feeling could be described as swinging between pure annoyance to pure rage, despite this his face was blank the entire time as he stared at Aisling talk to her boss. He knew that he wasn't going to get Snyder back the moment she came striding in with lectures and demands. Perhaps invading Engellachia would have caused him less grief than entertaining their corporate overlords. He choked down the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

    "I'll have my staff draw up the paperwork, and Miss Derring, I should hope to never have to see you again after this. Suffice it to say I won't be as amicable the next time you barge in here."

    Breckenridge stood up and showed Aisling to the door. "Ah and one more thing. You tell Mister Heydendahl, that I won't forget his graciousness. I expect that in the future I will pay him back for it." He closed the door quietly behind Derring and turned back to his desk. From another door Kay Faraday appeared, she had been listening from the other room.

    "Fuck that bitch." Faraday said as she sat on the desk. "Guess we aren't getting Snyder."

    "Nooo we are not. I imagine they sold her to the Cussians. I wasn't aware the political situation in Westernesse was so bad. We are well behind the curve, Kay."

    "It wouldn't be the first time we were without friends. Won't be the last I am sure." She responded. "In any case you are scheduled to speak tonight on television. Will you mention Snyder?"

    "There is no use in lying, they've been lied to for years now. I think the country could use a bit of transparency." Breckenridge sighed, the job was already catching up to him. "Let's grab a bite and get to back to work."

     
  16. Engellachia

    Engellachia Administrator

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2007
    Messages:
    6,124
    Location:
    Suncoast FL
    Capital:
    Vesper
    Nick:
    Nilshanks
    Eisgarten

    Alarm sirens rang within the HDS conference center, and first in German then second in English the mercenaries were ordered to “attend each holding pod in combat readiness”. The thirty Sylvanian detainees, or hostages depending on one’s perspective, were being held three to a pod in a total of ten on the conference room floor.

    One by one a pod was opened, three inhabitants ushered out only to have athletic uniforms apparel and shower shoe flip flops to wear. The Engellexian mercenaries present offered apologies for this indignity, but the Ostmarkian Eisgartmen shouted and threatened their captives rudely.

    “Together you will return back to the pod, change into the provided clothing, and leave all objects, documents, or devices behind!” an Eisgartman would order each trio, while a short and stout north woods Engellachian Aboriginal barked at the female groups behind crossed arms.

    “The next time we see them it’ll be over a battlefield,” a mercenary named Galen told his counterparts, “I’m not sure I’ll re-up again to fight a brother-war!”

    The Sylvanian groups were then loaded back on to buses and driven to the airport, where they were screened by metal detectors and permitted to board only with rings and personal jewelry. Everything else had to be left behind, their weapons, phones, laptops, papers they had not saw fit to swallow or flush, down to their ID cards which would be held on to for study.

    Their electronic devices were sealed in plastic bags, and all other papers or items placed into labeled boxes by gloved hands. Heydendahl Defense Solutions would be inviting the Cussian and Southern Engellexians to examine everything under the condition that exploited tech and software would be shared with HDS.

    Meanwhile the detainees boarded their plane back towards Sylvania, a bought out commercial flight that would afford the unshackled passengers full food and liquor in first class; a velvet glove backhand on top of the rest of their ordeal. Still, in an hour or less they would land in their homeland at an airport of their government’s choosing only to be subjected to another day of debriefing or more.
     
  17. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    The plane carrying the escaped prisoners who had been captured by Heydendahl's mercenaries landed at Gateway International Airport of Tiroe City and taxied to an isolated ramp at the east side of the airport where police vehicles and a bus to transfer the prisoners. An air stair was wheeled up to the plane and a uniformed man opened the door from the outside. The warm middle northern summer air rushed in and past Joseph Bernstein, former Director of Foreign Affairs, as he stepped off the plane his arms and legs shackled loose enough to walk but only in awkward fashion. The midday sun hurt his eyes as he waddled down the stairs. Lining the way to the bus they would be loaded on was a line of men dressed in black tactical clothing carrying sub machine guns, their faces were masked and their eyes showed white, their disgust and anger showing.

    Once they were settled on the bus an armed man came in, on his uniform were stripes denoting his rank, he was in command of the squad attached to guard them. "Welcome to home!" Bernstein was unable to see his face through the mask, but he imagined a sick sardonic smile on the leader's face as he said that. The squad leader spoke again, "Your fate has yet to be decided but you won't go home! Your new home will be the ADMAX New Stanton!" At this revelation, all of them reacted negatively, some cried, others screamed. Bernstein just sat there and took it all in.

    ADMAX New Stanton was Sylvania's only high security prison. Unlike the other Engell nations, Sylvania did not practice the human commodity system. It's prison system took in the dregs of society and if anyone had ever seen them again, they were sure to fall back into the system and disappear again. Recidivism was high. The prison population was not abnormally large or even that violent, but twenty years ago, the Justice Department had saw fit to build a new high security facility. A pork barrel spending bill that the Governor of Clarion had lobbied for and had been successful in obtaining for building the facility. The facility had been welcomed into the state as it created at least one thousand jobs that people had been desperate for.

    Unlike some prisons in Sylvania, ADMAX New Stanton was well kept and clean, nobody had ever escaped and nobody ever would, it's design would see to that. The designer had made sure to take in account in it's construction how the facility would break down the mental state of the prisoner, assuring that many but the strongest wills would be dominated and broken down by the crushing isolation they would feel. Many felt that death was more humane. Joe Bernstein leaned forward and set his head on the seat in front of him, the smell of cheap pleather filled his nostrils He watched the passing countryside and took it all in, it would most likely be the last of the outside world he'd ever see.
     
    Last edited: Aug 7, 2019
    Beautancus, Natal and Touzen like this.
  18. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    The presidential office still felt strange to Breckenridge every time he entered the room, the entire building felt strange. His family had moved into the Executive Mansion from the apartment they had kept in Charleroi. When Breckenridge was able to sleep at this wife's side, he was unable to get any and when he did it wasn't restful, he always had trouble adapting to new living spaces, the move from Twin Echo to Charleroi had the same affect on him. Over the last few days he had nominated a good portion of his cabinet, many had already been confirmed, with many Dem Soc congressmen and women caught up in the cult scandal and under arrest the Federalists were able to sweep through confirmations. The confirmations would have happened regardless, the party was united behind the President and only a simple majority was needed. However finding staffing for these new director's was much more difficult as intensive background checking was taking place.

    Breckenridge had just finished a meeting with the acting Attorney General when another call came over the buzzer from his secretary, the new Director of the National Intelligence Department had arrived. Jeffery Warner was an older man, a veteran spy who had railed against Snyder's, under Ellington's orders, poor funding of the NID. Warner's hair was long gone, having chosen shaving it away instead of the embarrassment of a comb over. Thick black rimmed rectangular glasses made his already blocky head more square. He was a thin and short man, but not to be underestimated.

    "Mister President, it is my pleasure to serve under your command." Warner said as he arrived. "As you know the NID and the boys at OSS (Office of Strategic Services or code named Green Door) have had to tighten their belts for far too long under that witch."

    "I've already unrestricted the secret fund (Black Budget) and made it fully available to NID once again. By Executive order of course."


    "Yes, well I understand that this is been a difficult process, Mister President, but the intelligence organs of this state cannot be ignored, we have had to cut back greatly. I understand though that you wished to talk to me directly about a friend of yours in the West Engell Republic. Is that right?" Warner smiled sarcastically.

    "Yes, my new friend and business associate." Breckenridge sighed as he said it. "Heydendahl has already made himself an annoying thorn in my side and now with this dictator garbage, he's making himself very difficult to ignore."

    "You've made concessions to him to retrieve the prisoners, but not Snyder. A moment of weakness exploited." Warner pushed his glasses up on his nose reflexively. Breckenridge shot him a look, partly angry, but quickly relenting, there was no use in being angry and he was too tired for it anyway.

    "It is no matter, he will have to set up companies to work inside the country and I'll have many operatives working on the inside as he does so. It will not be difficult to place them while he operating inside Sylvania. This is our turf and he will have to play by our rules, no matter what was conceded. Right now he is in a period of transition but once the rest of the Thaumantic states warm up to his antics there will be no touching him, unless of course a well orchestrated accident were to occur."

    Breckeridge raised his eyebrow as he looked at Warner. "Is that possible?"

    Warner shook his head negative. "Twenty years ago, sure. Nowadays, it would be very difficult to pull off. We have a small section in Vesper, but Heydendahl doesn't operate out of Vesper. He keeps his core operations looked up in his icy fortress in Eisgarten and surrounds himself with Germanians and Kadiki's. We do however have a few men on the inside, with at least one I know I can trust completely. Mercenary companies can be fickle things however and people come and go very often in Heydendahl's industry, especially at lower levels where my men are. It will take sometime for him to gain trust within the organization. Meaning, Mister President, this will be a multi-year operation and success will not come easily."

    Breckenridge nodded with understanding. "I want to know everything about the man, everything about his company, shell companies, family whether he knows of them or not. I want to know his movements, how he sleeps, what he eats, who he is fucking. Like I said, everything."

    Warner's glasses glinted as the sun began to show through the windows, of course. In due time, we will come to know very much about him. A secret friend, that he has no knowledge of, but spills his secrets to everyday. I'll have our friends at OTIS (Office of Technical and Information Services code named INFOWAR) begin the data collection as soon as possible, as we gain more operatives in his operation, the data will flow much more freely. I should be going. Have a pleasant day, Mister President."
     
  19. Sylvania

    Sylvania Well-Known Member

    Joined:
    Feb 19, 2011
    Messages:
    1,480
    Location:
    The Heart of Dixie
    Capital:
    Charleroi
    Nick:
    RevolverZeek
    Joe Bernstein sighed as the officer strapped a kevlar vest to his chest and chained him up. Since the 15th he and fifty one others who had been the top ranking members of the cult had been put on trial for crimes related to human trafficking, pedophilia and a host of other crimes. Bernstein himself had been charged with money laundering and for using his office as Director of Foreign Affairs to cover up trafficking and move money around several offshore accounts. All of it was true there was no doubt, the prosecutors had all the documents that had been leaked from Ellington’s computer to build their case up on. Not even a junior prosecutor could screw the pooch on this one, not even if he tried. The trial was a formality as far as Bernstein was concerned, he saw the way the jurors looked at them as they entered the courtroom everyday, looks of horror, hatred and disgust were common despite the professional demeanor everyone tried to maintain. There was not one person in all of Sylvania who had not heard of the cult and what they had done, finding an impartial jury was next to impossible. Not even a dyed in the wool democratic socialist could defend what they had done.

    Bernstein in typical fashion regretted only having been caught, once you commit yourself to aligning with pedo cultists, things like regret and shame were no longer emotions one could ever find themselves feeling again. He didn’t have anything to do with the sex aspect himself, despite still being charged for it, he was in it for the money and clout that came with running with the cult. Bernstein did not doubt that he would be staring down the barrel of a gun soon when it came time to execute them and execution was on the line for all fifty two of the cult elite he found himself included with.

    The arm of the officer strapping his vest on tightly swept over his face and accidentally knocked off his glasses, the lenses shattering as they hit the floor. Bernstein shook his head in annoyance, there was no use in yelling out or trying to speak to the policeman who wanted nothing to do with him. The ADMAX prison they would be transported to two hours away would provide him with another pair in a few days, for now the world would go by in a blur.

    The trial itself took place in the heart of Charleroi for maximum publicity; the ADMAX had the facilities to handle the tribunal but the feds wanted the country to see their faces every day when they were perp walked out of the courthouse and onto the bus that would take them back the maximum security facility they were imprisoned in. Every day it was the same thing: the side doors of the courthouse would swing open and the police would march the defendants out into a throng of media a protesters wanting to get a piece of them. They would have things thrown at them, they would be spit on, the first day of trial Bernstein took a fist to the face as he boarded the bus. For lack of a better phrase it was a shit show for the nation to feed off of to increase their hate and anger.

    The open air hit Bernstein face like a slap as the side doors opened and they began their walk to the bus. Yelling voices assaulted his ears, news media microphones waved in front of his face and an apple grazed the back of his head and bounced off the riot helmet of the officer that pushed him along. Something strange was happening nearby though, the voices were different this time, shocked yells and screams pierced the air.

    “THAT WAS MY KID YOU PEDO FUCK!”

    Bernstein heard it clear as day and then the cracks of two pistol shots rang out. Pain wracked Bernstein’s right side and the warmth of rushing blood saturated his suit pants, he had been shot in the armpit where the body armor did not protect him. Bernstein’s already blurry vision began to fade as he fell to the ground an errant foot stamping down on his abdomen as people began to stampede in effort to get away from the shooter. Bernstein’s vision faded away first into white, was this the light at the end of the tunnel? Then the white turned to black and there was nothing. The cops wrestled the shooter to the ground without much of a struggle, he had gotten what he wanted.
     

Share This Page