Crotobaltislavonia
Establishing Nation
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2007
- Messages
- 509
Banja Luka Airport
The word had come down, the State would begin to seal up the borders again any day now. Which meant the freedom of movement Crotobaltislavonia had enjoyed for the last eight weeks was coming to an end. And for Herut and her group, it was now or never.
The last eight weeks had been interesting times for Crotobaltislavonia. Refugees who had fled to uncertain futures were returning home to their lives. More prosperous families who had gone abroad to visit relatives or take holidays were returning home to exhausted bank accounts and stolen businesses. Technocrats had used State funds to import luxuries they would enjoy and then sell off in lean times. And the underworld had seen a windfall from a Blud bubble that had subsequently burst from oversupply.
For Herut and her group, the closing of the borders pushed up their timeline. But it also presented opportunity. With the mad dash to return home, the SPA and the Border Guards were focusing on screening arrivals for Enemies of the State while giving minimal attention to departures.
Herut was a typical Yiddish girl from the farm: large nose, wide across, busty, and big in the rear. It didn't hurt that she was wearing the tightest sweater and shortest skirt she had. The customs officer and pair of Border Guards manning the checkpoint, all three young and bored, looked Herut up and down, grinning from ear-to-ear, their lust palpable. Herut beamed at the blatant male attention as she passed by towards the exit. And then her handbag slipped from her hands to the floor and the men were beside themselves as she bent over to retrieve it.
As the official and Guards ogled Herut, Emil walked through the checkpoint, past Herut, and out the door onto the tarmac, completely unmolested. Just to make sure Emil escaped notice, Herut spilled the contents of her bag onto the floor and the Guards rushed forward to help. Outside, Emil scanned the waiting aircraft. As expected, there was only an airline official to check tickets. Just a week ago, there would have been a second security checkpoint for drugs. But the street price of Blud had collapsed and Nekmit was holding on to what it had for now. At the bottom of the stairs, Emil showed the official his ticket and ascended to the hatch. After exchanging greetings with a stewardess, he took his aisle seat midplane and waited. A few moments later, Herut appeared and took her seat forward, close to the cockpit. They waited for departure.
The word had come down, the State would begin to seal up the borders again any day now. Which meant the freedom of movement Crotobaltislavonia had enjoyed for the last eight weeks was coming to an end. And for Herut and her group, it was now or never.
The last eight weeks had been interesting times for Crotobaltislavonia. Refugees who had fled to uncertain futures were returning home to their lives. More prosperous families who had gone abroad to visit relatives or take holidays were returning home to exhausted bank accounts and stolen businesses. Technocrats had used State funds to import luxuries they would enjoy and then sell off in lean times. And the underworld had seen a windfall from a Blud bubble that had subsequently burst from oversupply.
For Herut and her group, the closing of the borders pushed up their timeline. But it also presented opportunity. With the mad dash to return home, the SPA and the Border Guards were focusing on screening arrivals for Enemies of the State while giving minimal attention to departures.
Herut was a typical Yiddish girl from the farm: large nose, wide across, busty, and big in the rear. It didn't hurt that she was wearing the tightest sweater and shortest skirt she had. The customs officer and pair of Border Guards manning the checkpoint, all three young and bored, looked Herut up and down, grinning from ear-to-ear, their lust palpable. Herut beamed at the blatant male attention as she passed by towards the exit. And then her handbag slipped from her hands to the floor and the men were beside themselves as she bent over to retrieve it.
As the official and Guards ogled Herut, Emil walked through the checkpoint, past Herut, and out the door onto the tarmac, completely unmolested. Just to make sure Emil escaped notice, Herut spilled the contents of her bag onto the floor and the Guards rushed forward to help. Outside, Emil scanned the waiting aircraft. As expected, there was only an airline official to check tickets. Just a week ago, there would have been a second security checkpoint for drugs. But the street price of Blud had collapsed and Nekmit was holding on to what it had for now. At the bottom of the stairs, Emil showed the official his ticket and ascended to the hatch. After exchanging greetings with a stewardess, he took his aisle seat midplane and waited. A few moments later, Herut appeared and took her seat forward, close to the cockpit. They waited for departure.
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