A Friend in Need...

[Danmark]

Kong Gustav XIII Lufthavn, Danmark, 11.37 pm

A trio of black-coated men waited a little outside the doors to the main entrance of the principal airport of Danmark. The presiding impression is that they seemed nervous and fidgety, variously either kicking grit with their shoes or nervously puffing on countless cigarettes. To all intents and purposes, most people viewed them with a little suspicion as they loitered about with no apparent purpose. Some even thought they looked like agents.

One of the men went inside the airport terminal to check the flight timetable only to emerge 5 minutes later, grinding his jaw and with dead-pan expression.

"Thank fuck, it's only going to be 20 minutes", the sole man reported back to his accomplices.

The Danish weather, often wet and miserable, had managed to delay flight KGD-2106 expected in direct from the Tiburan Empire.

One of the men rolled his eyes and struck up another cigarette and looked into the distance through the wall of drizzle, lit up by the flood-lit airport. They all wanted to be home yet still had a two-hour drive as part of their orders - that or not get paid.

Sometime later, the lights of a descending passenger jet could be clearly discerned through the orange-grey haze and a tannoy announced the arrival of the flight they had been waiting so long for.

 

[Josepania]

Kong Gustav XIII Lufthavn, Danmark
Scandinavia-Minor Region
12:05 Local Time​

The crowd of people surged, albeit as if in slow-motion, from the terminal connected to KGD-2106. There was not much rush save for a few isolated persons in the group of passengers, and the black-coated Danish men looked expectantly at those few, with no result except for one strange look and three refusals of recognition.

One person in the rapidly diminishing crowd made his way calmy towards the trio, seeming to be just another random passenger in the crowd. Wearing a dark grey trenchcoat, his pale skin glinting in the artificial light, thinning black hair slicked back sharply, and bespectacled with large-framed glasses, he looked rather like an accountant for some obscure corporation, certainly not what the trio was looking for.

But stereotypes were flamboyant targets, or useful distractions depending on who was said stereotype. Professionals didn't work like that willingly. Even Agent Giacomo of the Tiburan Intelligence Service thought he was pushing it with this outfit.

Clutching the black briefcase a little tighter as he came within a few feet of the Danish trio, he cleared his throat and said, "Looking for me gentlemen?" A smirk slowly crept into his features as he noted their reactions. 'Amateurs...'

 

[Danmark]

The three Danes all stood carefully eyeing over the strange-looking bespectacled man standing before them, examining his attire. Such weird clothes! They couldn't quite make out who he was supposed to be and seemed temporarily dumbstruck. They had waited all this time for this, and yet seemed so unprepared for it when it arrived.

After a few difficult seconds, which seemed to drag on forever, what seemed to be the lead man beckoned to the two others with his index finger and a 'come over here' jolt of the head . The three huddled together in debated as to whether the man was who they thought he was. One of the men just shrugged his shoulders, another kept turning his head back to look over his shoulder and glare at the mystery man whilst narrowing his eyes with suspicion. The apparent senior man of the group dialled on a number on his cell phone and looked back at the bedraggled visitor, seemingly describing him and being told information prompting a succession of nods and "Jeg's".

After some moments, the lead man turned and came back to speak to the newly arrived visitor whilst the other men followed and stood behind him looking menacing.

After a brief clearing of his throat, he emitted a strange sound that sounded more like croaks as if he was choking on a hot potato, than words. In actual fact, it was his thick rural Danish accent as he struggled to speak German which he had been informed the visitor understood.

"Ja, come this way, bitte. We've a car waiting for you - just down here."

 

[Josepania]

Agent Giacomo considered aggravating his contacts by asking him to repeat his request, but eventually decided against it. He was a professional, not some hired gun private snoop. Besides, his government wanted to have any transaction go over smoothly, and with his entrance, any further provocations would jepordize the whole thing. And that was unacceptable, no matter how little fun it would be.

"Of course, my friend. Lead the way." Agent Giacomo replied, in better, albeit artificial sounding German. A careful listener would have also noted the very subtle Tiburan(Italian) accent accompanying his German, but he hadn't paid as much attention to the language classes anyway.

Escorted to the car, he pictured his situation looking rather much like an important CEO escorted by his surly bodyguards... or for the more cynical, a hostage of three thugs. Either way, getting out of the public spotlight was preferable, it meant less attention, and less attention meant less opportunity for mistakes.

"I must apologize, gentlemen, for confusing you back there. I assumed wrongly you'd know who I am." An apology, with a small jab at their professionalism he could not resist.

 

[Danmark]

The journey to their secret rendez-vous point was not a comfortable one. The car they were travelling in had seen better days and struggled to make much speed at all. A window to one of the rear doors was missing, the offending gap having been filled with an orange "Kosts Le$$" supermarket bag hastily fixed to the car with blue duct-tape, so that the car was filled with a terrible flapping sound as the bag caught the wind whilst the car sped along the motorway.

After some time, the car took a side road into what appeared to be countryside. There were certainly no street lights, and whatever the passengers did manage to see, tended to be either hedgerows, fields or trees. Sometimes, if they were lucky, the car headlights shone on some unfortunate lone fox or rabbit diving into the grass verges for dear life to escape almost certain death at the hands of the incompetant and crazed Danish driver in control of this death-trap.

The journey was made even longer by a wrong turn that the driver had taken which led the car straight into a lane of mud. The resultant angry stream of Danish expletives, furious body language, and red faces, not the mention that two of the Danes had to get out of the car to rescue it from it's quagmire, were hardly a great introduction to the competence of Danes.

Needless to say, some while later, the group came to a stop outside a small cottage, surrounded by trees that swayed and swooshed in the breeze. The leading Dane got out of the car and opened the rear door to the unfortunate foreign visitor.

"Ja, please get out right now, bitte. You must follow me, ja?", he requested in his 'Kermit the frog' accent.

They entered the cottage, Agent Giacomo being asked to wait temporarily in what appeared to be the main living area of the cottage. A little while later, he was asked to follow the Danish guide to a small ante-room. In it, stood a lone, silver-haired man, beside a crackling log-fire.

On seeing the Tiburan, the silver-haired gent's face lit up and he beamed, whilst holding out his hand as a grand welcoming gesture.

"Ha-ha! Velkom til Danmark! I hope your journey wasn't too problematic! Come, do take a seat."

The man was none other than that revered and retired Field Marshall, beloved to Danes, Henrik von Schaernhorst.

 

[Josepania]

'Finally, a friendly face...' the Tiburan thought to himself as he took the man's hand and smiled. "No problems Field Marshal. I may go deaf on the way back, but I know I'll be in one piece."

Accepting his offer to sit and lean back in his chair, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. They were humble, cozy, but with two possible exit routes if things, however unlikely it was, went south fast. He took another moment to embrace the warmth of the fire, muttering "Much better..."

Then he snapped back into his customary professionalism. "Now then, Field Marshal, first and foremost I must congratulate your country's entrance into the League of Free States, though I must admit it came as a surprise to me, considering your current government. So perhaps you can shed light on this subject, and in the process, tell me exactly what your... ah, friends, want for Danmark?"

 

[Danmark]

Von Schaernhorst made a brief call into another room, and soon they were joined by another Dane - this one professional looking with neat hair, fresh complexion and ultra-modern suit. He sat down to the side of the Field Marshall, and crossed his legs and sat demurely in a feminine manner and blushed in a shy manner. He gave the impression of being distinctly "otherwise inclined".

"Don't worry- this is my personal aide", informed the Field Marshall, whilst nervously coughing and shifting uneasily in his seat.

He quickly returned to the matter at hand. This was crucial and highly sensitive.

"Well, being an LFS member, you will no doubt have been made aware of the internal situation within our country. Its not in a healthy way and, to be honest, its been this way for some years. Indeed, the current events which some outsiders might think are of recent origin, actually have roots going back years. They've culminated because, in my view, they've been left to fester and now all the chickens have come home to roost. I've been privately warning of it for some time now, and there are many who think the same way but they've retained a diplomatic silence and, with great reverence, stood by the constitution".

Von Schaernhorst sipped a little from his brandy glass, momentarily fixated on the flickers of the fire, before turning back to his guest.

"Well, that was until recently anyway. You were taken aback at our entry to the League? I'm a little surprised, though I can see your view - Danmark is not the stereotype League state, I suppose. Hardly an Oikawa, and not like the Sarmatians, though I do believe that they might be on to something... But surely your intelligence, especially League intelligence, would have told you the influence we, I, the military in general has been exercising recently? I know the general public don't know, it's simply too sensitive for them to get even a whiff of the truth at this current time given the extreme delicacy of the whole operation, but those "in the know" do."

He continued.

"You see, it's become increasingly apparent that there are two main things in this country that are of over-riding importance - that ordinary, petty government and has all the hallmarks of gross incompetence -why else would be in this state? - and it shows no sign of changing; and also that Danes are desperate, simply yearning, for a fresh start and for a return to the days when Danes were not embarassed to call themselves Danes and felt the hairs rise on the nape of their neck when they thought of their country. However, many of my countrymen are just not sure quite which way to turn for certain - hence the attraction of the left for some, and the right for others. Indeed, Danmark stands at a crossroads, and could go either way."

The old man drew breath.

"And... this is where you come in. You see, in order to shift the argument decisively in favour of what I believe is Danmark's genuine course to prosperity and power, we need assistance of a financial and military hardware nature. We just need to give this a push in the right direction. Do you see?".

 

[Josepania]

Leaning back, Agent Giacomo sipped on his glass of brandy as he considered the Field Marshal's words. Truth was, he had not been told about the influence of Danmark's military in the government, though it did make sense. He pinned that little fuck-up on the crippling bureaucracy that had a stranglehold on his government, and its many arms. However, the Tiburan Emperor had promised reforms, which the Agent was skeptical of, until he had been informed that, for this mission, he was to be given a blank check by the Emperor himself, no questions asked by the bean counters, guaranteed. That's when the agent became a believer, and he was sure the Dane would like that too...

"I do, my friend, and I think your eastern neighbors can provide all the help you need..." Reaching down to the black suitcase, almost glowing from the flickering fire, and opened it up, revealing a small stack of papers. Taking off the top one, Giacomo adjusted his glasses and said, "Through all this legal mumbo jumbo you can review, if you wish, this paper here more or less guarantees your friends, by order of His Imperial Tiburan Majesty himself, a blank check in regards to financial and hardware assistance in your noble cause. Within the bounds of reason, of course. These transfers of finance and hardware will be done through dummy corporations and other third parties, be they groups or individuals, political parties or private citizens, so that no unpleasantness occurs should someone, either your people or mine, slip-up. How you use the assistance we give to you is entirely up to you, and so long as you remember who helped put you in power, the assistance will not be stopped."

Looking up from the paper and smiling, going back to his artificial charm, he asked, "Any questions, Field Marshal?"

 

[Danmark]

Von Schaernhorst was inwardly very pleased, though he'd had an inkling that his request would be accepted. Needless to say, he hadn't expected a unlimited support. He really couldn't ask for more.

"Well, I have to say that I am more pleased than words can express. This will contribute no end to our cause. And I want, as a special request, for you to take this message back his His Imperial Majesty".

The Field Marshall leaned forward and looked straight into Giacomo's eyes.

"Tell His Majesty that this gesture will never be forgotten by Danes, or by myself, and that he will receive ample pay-back in due course. We Danes never forget a friend and I give His Majesty my word that we will do what we can do to assist him in due course if ever he needs our help."

Von Schaernhorst stood and raised his glass.

"I propose a toast."

He took a deep breath and bellowed in a deep Danish guttural voice and with his eyes welling up with emotion.

"Long live His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of the Tiburan Empire! -GUD BEVARE DANMARK!!"