To live and die in Bruno

[Holy Frankish Empire]

The emerald green eyes scanned the room. They moved rapidly, taking in everything in the room. The tall man leaned against the door jam. The police officers glanced at him but ignored him. Anybody who did not belong there would never exude this type of confidence. The photographer stood over a body whose hands were clasped behind his back with a belt. The head was a bloody pulpy mess. Brain matter streaked across the floor of the hotel room. The emerald eyes belonged to a man in his early 50's or late 40's. His tall bony frame was covered in a rich olive complexion. He wore a light brown 3 piece suit that was turn of the century. He wore a short astrakhan hat and carried no firearm. He stroked his goatee. He nodded to himself. A police lieutenant, talking to the photographer, turned and saw the man standing in the doorway. The lieutenant turned back to the photographer, intending to tell him to wait. When he looked back, the man in the doorway had vanished.

Over recent years, Bruno had become a minor 'hotspot' and open city for espionage. While few spied on Karlovia itself, Bruno in quiet circles was a city to exchange information; a place of espionage neutrality. The neutrality had been violated and an agent from a far northern country had been murdered. The Daroga was charged with righting the wrong. He was known only to perhaps 10 people in the Karlovan government and his name known by even fewer. His exact origins were known to almost nobody. He had been a police chief but now worked as Duke Paul International Airport was small but busy. A row of seats at the international terminal were occupied by a family and at the end a man reading a newspaper. The Daroga sat next to him. Without looking at the man, he began to speak in heavily accented English- "Do not stop reading. I know who you are. You will not return to Bruno. Your country is banned from Bruno until we tell you otherwise. That is the price you must pay. If you want to play those types of games you go elsewhere."

With that, Daroga stood up. Finally he turned directly at the newspaper that hid the face. "Next time, you should get a paper that is not yesterdays".

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Northern Karlovia was a tough place to be in winter. Rural and isolated, it was hammered by the winter winds and the driving snows. Major Paul Laszlo sat on his horse glancing at the border through binoculars. Major Laszlo had been among the army's most promising officers. Nearing 60 now, he commanded a section of Karlovia's border in charge of some 100 border guardsmen. Guard shacks and customs posts dotted the border. In the cold, the horse shifted under him to nibble at some grass protruding through the blanket of snow that covered the ground. He adjusted his ushanka and spat. He would be in a warm barracks house if it wasn't for politics. Laszlo, was married to the daughter of a disgraced prominent family. He had attended military school in both Danmark and Karlovia and when he was pushed from the army, was on a short list to become a colonel. Now he sat staring at a border. On the other side were the Mehzist hordes. Karlovia had maintained very good relations with its northern neighbor but remained apprehensive. Karlovan politics played an intricate game to remain neutral and stay under her own influence. Laszlo sighed. Mehzists to the north. The Imperials to the west. The quiet ones to the south. Karlovia was an odd nation in an odd place.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Jiří Kostka, General of the Karlovan Army, sat in the back seat of his deep gray staff car. It had struggled down the snow drenched trail that served as a road through the large field. He watched in the cloudy morning as the first men hit the ground. Kostka was watching the culmination of months of work done in near secrecy. While the actions were noted, especially by foreign intelligence, nobody seemed to really care. Karlovia would never be a true military force. Kostka even knew this. It was not in the Karlovan blood. Not since the days of the Battle of Oftsburg had Karlovans shown real military vigor. Kostka watched as more and more men hit the ground. The paratroopers were the first of the horrendously outdated army to be truly updated. Officers had been secretly sent overseas to get the proper training. Now the battalion was the finest in the Karlovan army. It was one of the few units where nobody was armed with a bolt action weapon and the soldiers had all been given modern equipment. Most of the army was still issued the same style packs and shoes as the army was in 1927. Kostka's attention came to a number of the troopers running toward a spot and it slowly dawned on Kostka that one of the soldiers' chute did not deploy nor did his reserve. Kostka swore and made his way to the nearest junior officer to get an explanation.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

The men in the chairs ranged from lieutenants to a few majors. Most of them looked exhausted. They had been quietly assembled and given two pieces of paper. One resigned their commissions in the Karlovan military. The other was a confidentiality agreement. Upper Swiecziema had given them commissions as junior officers. Most had been attached to front line units. Others were attached to headquarters staff. They had only served for a short time before returning to Karlovia. Now, they signed papers and received their commissions back. The colonel had collected the papers and left the room. General Kirt Lederer quietly entered the room and walked to the front. The officers sat motionless, unsure what was coming. Lederer had a distinguished career. At 17, he joined the army. Lederer served in support units until he was able to transfer to the infantry. Now, after a long career, Lederer had been offered a unique opportunity. Clad in a baggy light brown uniform, he sat in a chair at the front of the room.

"I am pleased to see you have come back. You probably now have more combat experience than 90% of Karlovan forces; if not more. You may notice some men have not come back yet. That is because you have been hand picked. The others will come back in a few days and will be assigned elsewhere. We are forming a new division. You have a choice- return to your units or stay. The path ahead will be the single most difficult thing you have ever done outside of family and combat. If you do not wish to stay, leave now". The room was silent. A major stood up, saluted and left. Two lieutenants followed. None further left.

Lederer looked at the room. The Karlovan military had been left to rust away. Now, thanks to certain contributions made in the recent election, the military was about to become a priority. The officers sat in sadly outdated uniforms. It was a perfect example of the failures of the government to address the military. Many were still wearing puttees. Lederer stood and wrote one word on the blackboard behind him. "Nebe" he said, reading the word. "We are about to form the best trained, the most capable, and the toughest division in the Karlovan army. We will be the best airborne division ever assembled. You will all report here in 4 days". Lederer stood and walked directly out.