Tinderbox

[Northern Cooperative Unions]

"How much fertilizer can we fit in the car?"

"That depends. How big is the car?"

"How suspicious would a truck look out there?"

"Doesn't make sense to park a truck right outside of the Central Building. It's a dangerous proposal. You're asking for UDBA rats to swarm in quick. My advice: find the largest police vehicle you can get your hands on."

 

[Northern Cooperative Unions]

RIGUSTAD - CHAMBER OF THE COOPERATIVES

A truck from the Teutonian Cooperative Militsiya was parked precariously on the parade route of the Premier, sitting next to the barricades erected by UDBA personal protection agents. Vadic Jaroslavas was set to arrive in twenty-four hours for his formal swearing in. Two militsiya were in the back canopies working on something buried within a specialized floor compartment.

 

[Northern Cooperative Unions]

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A meeting in Inflanty's "Podnik Nightclub" between several councilmen and Mafija officials was underway. The upper deck of the night club was populated solely by these top men, a total of six, two representing the Council and four representing the most powerful Mafijas of Latgalia-Wendland. Locals gyrated on the dance floor below to electronic music. Soldiers and associates of the local Mafija kept watch, often with hands firmly fastened to automatic weapons just obscured by jackets.

"The Premier was almost killed because of what? Some fucking jealousy? What's the fucking reason? Who's behind it?" A rotund mafija boss was in the process of screaming with bulging veins. A thick mustache decorated the top part of his lip, already drenched in liquor from copious alcohol use. He took another swig from his handle of vodka. He was Vasilije Doburov, the larger-than-life crime boss who effectively ran the criminal industries of the Northern Cooperatives.

One of the councilmen piped up, "It's the Teutonics. They're making moves we can't track anymore - obscuring shit we can't see. Ignore the fucking retard hardliners from the minority states, no offense intended, but there's talk of secession." The councilman spoke rather cautiously, adjusting his tie as a tic. One of the bosses scoffed with some bemusement. The councilman continued, "My contacts in the UDBA said they don't think it was meant to kill the Premier, but it was meant to set gears in motion elsewhere. I don't know what it means, but there's more to it than they're letting on."

Doburov toyed with a piece of bread in his mouth. He leaned back in his chair and pondered for a moment. Vasilije then spoke solemnly, "Then the bastards are after some sort of war. They couldn't have just fucking waited a little longer."