Hellfire

[Ivernia]

The Janitor did his work for the building late in the night. He typically came late when people in the city were asleep. Walking up the little street in Portsiar he could smell the salt from the sea, a rare easterly wind must be blowing in from the Illmen Strait, the winds seemed to have changed. He walked up to a particular building with his bag of equipment and shuffled through his keys. He unlocked the door at the side of the building to get to the stairs, the areas of the building he cleaned were the first and second floors. He turned on the electric-light switch and headed up.
He found the broom cupboard and saw cleaning supplies. He couldn't use the hoover, only day-time shift could.
The Janitor cleaned the first floor, and then the second as he normally did. He then headed for the broom closet, took a ladder and propped it up in the middle of the office on the second floor. He shifted the panels in the ceiling and placed a bag up into the ceiling. He moved up the ladder and turned on his electric torch and viewed his handy-work. Over 30 bags, over 60 nights. Everything was in place. the last circuit was plugged in and the analogue timer was set.

The Janitor knew what was expected of him in this moment. As soon as he locked the outside door behind him and pocketed his keys a van was waiting. He slipped into the van at 3am on a Tuesday and headed south for the border. Border Patrol would be met in the morning before the timer went off, and he would be lost in Franken before anyone would come looking for him.

 

[Ivernia]

The secretary was just back from lunch. She entered the door to the side of the building that led to the stairs. She climbed three flights until she was at the top - the third floor of this four-story georgian-style building. Technically though the office she worked at was just a large converted attic. Before she entered however, she made sure - as she always did to take her badge our of her purse and put it back on her lapel. She must keep up appearances. Even though it is just a job to her nowadays. There are very few jobs going these days and Portsiar was a cold city to be homeless in.
When she entered she did not see typical business occurring. Usually lots of posters and pamplets were being made in the printing machine so large she wonders how it got up to the third floor. This office made newspapers and pamplets and all sorts of cheap mass media. But today, as for the last two days the distribution had stopped. Too many attacks. Too few people want to hear their message and too many violently don't.
Considering the sheer low number of guests these days - not even cleaners and workers who were not vetted by the workers were allowed to come and go. The secretary was afraid for her job and so she began making tea and bringing lunch in for the others. Just to add to her worth.
When she made her way to the back to the office to a room where the boss was - she could hear chatter inside - the brainstorm as they called it. She decided to make tea for them. She headed for the kitchenette. She had heard bits of conversations and she thinks they were attempting to start pirate radio. She knew an electrician man, maybe he could help.
When she finished the tea she decided she would offer her advice. She picked up the tray from the little kitchen and made her way back to the brainstorm.
Halfway across the room she was killed instantly as the bomb went off under her feet.

The explosion destroyed the third as well as the second floor. The entire building collapsed from structural failure immediately after.

 

[Ivernia]

Estria for the most part was flat land, flat and very wet land. But there was one high plateau just north of Portsiar. It was here that the ''Radio Station'' was built. A more accurate name though would be the ''Radio antennae and the converted sheep shack.''

You could still smell the sheep, but that did not bother the technician. This base was always to be temporary and it's time had run out. It had one more report to broadcast and then it would be abandoned.
The technician had just finished maintaining the radio antennae for the last time. Such a finicky fragile piece of equipment and the strong winds and constant rain made it no stronger - and his job no easier. It was raining right now - a kind of dull mist that got into his lungs. He was not built for this weather.
He finished up and headed in to the sheep shack, their base of operations. He called out a passphrase then opened the door.
In side he could see the radio host put a rifle back on a shelf, he noted that the technician was late - which considering the rain - and the hosts cosy place inside - made the technician no happier.

''It's fixed. Just get to work now alright?''

The radio host started playing with the frequencies. He was not going to use his normal pirate frequency, no this time he was going to play on a much more public and detectable one.

The technitian - his job finally complete - collapsed into a chair as best he could to relax. He listened in to the host's announcement.

''Ladies and Gentlemen of Ivernia. This is True Mezhist News Radio - operating on a different frequency than usual. That's right this time we want you to catch this line. We the True Mezhist's the true and proper branch of Mezhism in Ivernia have suffered too long! Too long has the Mezhist Party sat in the Ivernish Senate and done nothing! Too long have Communists been allowed to wander the High Kingdom spreading their ''comradery and red revolution'' like shit spreads miasma! We have broken off - split away so that we may take initiative and free the people of Ivernia! No longer fear the red menace - fight the red menace!
As we did, two days ago in Portsiar. It was WE who bombed that building! To destroy the communist den within. Communism is like a rotten root and it must be cut out. The more THEY squirm and hide - the more pain they will bring to us when we righteously purge them!''

''Our antenna will stay on - so feel free to find this base of operations Garda Síochána!* You will find the truth to our words here. We shall be gone as we will take to the streets! The Blueshirts shall rise! Join us on our fight against the obliteration of Ivernia itse-''

The technician was too tired too listen to the usual drivel spouted from here. That kind of talk was the fishing hook to ''lure fresh blood in.'' He wandered into the other half of the shack set up for beds. He began to take personal possessions and stuff them into bags. Food and water and a tent also. All of the Mezhist propaganda, some Upper and Lower Swieczieman flags, even a Fennian Union Flag all draped along the walls were to be left behind. Even one Saaremaan flag with ''Fuck Vainos'' crudely written on it.
He also left the bomb parts. The diagram of the building attacked. The bathtub for mixing explosives. All would be left for the Gardaí to find. They would be long gone.
When the host finished up his little speech he turned off the microphone for the last time. He kept the radio lit up, and they planned to leave the generator running too.
''Are we ready?'' he called from the front.

''Yeah, let's get the fuck outta here.''


*Garda=Policeman *Gardaí= plural police *Garda Síochána = Police Force (essentially)

 

[Ivernia]

Rudolf Jószef straightened his deep blue tie in the mirror. His dressing room was simply equipped. A sofa, a bowl of fruit, a vanity mirror with his folder and notes strewn where makeup should be. Also of course a flag of the Mezhist Party of Ivernia. Navy with a sky blue eagle imposed on it. Blue had become the colour for Mezhism in Ivernia - and unfortunately Gothic Fascism also. Rudolf wondered who indeed the 'True Mezhists' were and what their end plan was. He wondered how stupid they could possibly be. Killing Communists is not done publicly. Killing innocent taxpayers is just madness.

He has his orders from the Swiezcieman Embassy - complete condemnation - and he couldn't agree more. The press conference was set up and the press was waiting. It was a lot of work to get Mezhism to be seen as a benign force 'far away' that did not pose a threat to the High Kingdom. Ivernish people were not outright gunning for blue blood. Unlike the Communists the Mezhist Offices were still able to operate publicly without fear of reprisal.

He heard a knock at the door and a head poked in -

''Mr. Jószef 5 minutes until we begin. If you could come down''

''Yes, yes of course I will. I'm just about done here.''

Rudolf picked up his speech and followed the help. He walked down the hallway and saw a large deep blue curtain separating himself from a podium. Peeking in he could see a crowd was present. Many photographers and journalists, as well as members of the public and some important diplomats and senators. Gardaí awaited at the front vetting the jounalist's credentials and the public.

Rudolf waited for his cue to enter from the introducer who was giving a small intro. He waited for his name to be called.

''And today you shall hear it said by the Mezhist Party of Ivernia for all to hear. I give you the head of the Mezhist Party - and a holder of a seat in the Senate of Ivernia in the Formoria Wing - Senator Rudolf József!''

As the Senator entered the conference passing by the blue curtains to applause. He raised a hand to the crowd respectfully so he could begin. The crowd quietened.

''Ladies and Gentlemen of the Press, fellow Senators and the Ivernish Public I welcome you to this conference and thank you for you time - and for giving me and my party the chance to make our selves heard. The Mezhist Party of Ivernia is most appreciative to be able to speak in such harrowing times.

But first I wish to express - as all us Ivernish express - the sorrow and grief over this attack on 44 Carpenters Street. Such an attach was blazen, brutal, cruel and wrong. We the Mezhist Party do wholeheartedly and completely condemn this act of terrorism in every way. We wish the Ivernish people to know that this is not Mezhism. This is terrorism. We do not know who these people are. We do not know and are not in communication with the people of 'New Mezhism' and never heard of them before this terrible act.

We also wish for people to know that these acts are not and will never be on our agenda. We are a legitimate party with representation in the great Senate of this High Kingdom. We-''

''LIES'' A shout from the crowd. ''ALL LIES. ALL BLUENECKS LIE'' People turned in confusion to find the owner of the voice. A short portly man with a receding hairline and a heavy stormcoat stormed through the crowd to the front. Gardaí rushed to the front to silence him.

Rudolf was unshaken, he stared down the man in front of him. ''These are not lies sir, you couldn't be more wrong-''

Rudolf's eyes widened at the sight of the revolver pulled from the man's hand. He backed up instinctively but he was shot dead all the same.

''In solidary with my Comra-'' was all he could make out as the Gardaí came crashing down on the man. The screams from the audience from the bang led to a panic.