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Shadows of the Confederacy

Khemia

Establishing Nation
Joined
Mar 2, 2010
Messages
2,837
Location
Hawaii
Nick
Saaya
Remuria, Asteria
2020.05.22 19:51

A dull hum resonated in the poorly lit room, long shadows clawed to the corners of the room like dark tendrils fleeing a the meager light of an exposed, half-lit tube light. The walls, a pale shade of white, seemed to fall in towards the singular table at which a disheveled man of gaunt and pallid complexion sat uncomfortably in a poorly fitted, dark blue suit. He was alone, facing a sole door, whose window was covered in a glaze-white frosting. The air smelled musty and stale, thoroughly recycled and hissing from the vent above. The floor, a disgusting and unclean linoleum, seemed to stick to the bottom of his dirty, brown dress shoes as if covered by some unseen, viscous pool.

Luchas Molin had worked for the CSB for two decades and was considered by many to be a veteran of the force. But the life of an intelligence officer was lonely, the stress maddening, and Luchas' hair had thinned to the point of being negligible. He'd forgotten the company of a woman that did not cost him, and he'd slowly found himself dipping into other more undesirable vices. In the hallway, breaking the monotonous tones of the room, came the echoes of footfalls striding the corridor towards him. Luchas run the weathered skin of his tired fingers across his scalp, considering the mission to come. He'd been given a dossier; what good it had offered him. Little more than a place.

Montedoro. A tumultuous hive of corruption and debauchery the likes of which competed only to with the deepest parts of the Carcosan underworld for the closest places to hell this side of the Reman Sea. The monarchs of Montedoro had placated liberalism with sin to purchase time on their throne. What fresh hell waited for him in a mission to Montedoro?

The door handle churned clockwise, the hinges bemoaning their burden. Luchas removed the hand from the top of his head and sat upright in his chair immediately as the esteemed Director Malearo of the CSB entered the room behind a faceless aid. He closed the door behind him, looked towards a lone camera in the corner as if to glance at some unseen observer and dare him to continue watching, before moving to the table and setting a large file, heavily earmarked with rubber bands and sticky notes.

"Valeggio," the Director began even before sitting, the chair shrieking as its legs scratched the linoleum floor, "was not the most competent at covering his tracks. Our Serenien counterparts confirmed this and provided information of their own, which you'll find enclosed. To be honest, we don't have many leads, and we need and agent willing to put in the footwork, one we can trust implicitly."

Luchas' eyes burned holes into Director Malearo, confirming his suspicions as the Director glanced away. An agent he could burn if discovered. This operation would not have the cooperation of the Montedoro authorities, and the government no doubt believed the results could be damaging.

"How high does this go?" he said, grabbing the file and flipping past the report on Valeggio to the leads on other suspects. A particular file caught his attention. "The Archbish--"

"Agent Molin, to put the facts plainly, we do not know. We only know that Valeggio was in the business of scouting for targets to traffic, but we have only been able to publicly identify a handful of buyers. I believe that this is much bigger, and I need you to paint me a clearer picture." Director Molearo nodded to his aide, who handed him another file. "This file contains your cover, credentials, and information regarding your assets. You'll have access to a private, secure residence near the CBD, and an unofficial account. A locker at the Montedoro station contains a satellite phone and other essential assets. Remember this, this mission has the highest authorization possible. We expect reports, Molin, and progress. The Bureau is counting on you."
 
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