Inyurstan Whistle Blower Crisis! [MT][Open]

by **Nerotysia** » Sun May 24, 2015 7:51 am

The People's Voice

Nerotysia's Premier Digital Newspaper

Crisis of Confidence in Inyursta
Whistleblower Triggers Controversy and Oppression
By Yuli Tsaplin | 18 January 2015, 00:00 NST

Over the past week the nation of Inyursta has been rocked by a whisteblower scandal. Upon initial inspection the events seem largely benevolent - the whistleblower targeted several corrupt officials, revealing gross misuses of public funds and various other crimes. In response the nation embarked on a campaign to cleanse its ranks of corruption - all seems right.

However, the second wave of controversy that hass erupted reveals the true nature of the crisis. Multiple leaked documents linked several public officials with Marxist beliefs - beliefs they had not previously made known to the general public. A rabid vigilante witch-hunt ensued, with the violent murder of a socialist politician proudly broadcasted by a gang of armed thugs and with that same gang threatening every one of the Marxists with death.

This weekend, official responses from the central party were finally made known. Speaking during a press conference late Friday night, Chairperson Anya Rusakova was the first to make her thoughts known -

"With regards to the situation in Inyursta...it astonishes me, the hypocrisy...the savagery of a people to whom revelations of communist beliefs are so shocking. The fact that these men hid their true beliefs in the first place should make the nation reconsider things...but instead they have descended to the depths of the human spirit, howling for blood."

The Chief-Secretary of Party Defense, Boris Arshnev, found time himself to speak early Saturday -

"The recent events in Inyursta only confirm what has been obvious for a long time - that these bourgouis powers lack control over their own citizens, and that the primitive fascist guerillas in those nations only reflect inherent flaws in that system - their governments must change, or they will die."

Finally, late Saturday night, the Central Committee passed Resolution 2296 - officially opening Nerotysia's borders to any persons who fear for their safety in Inyursta. The resolution specifically references the "persecuted liberals, leftists, Marxists and socialists of the nation," which the resolution invited to Nerotysia for their safety.

The Central Policy Commission has yet to release an official response, but few doubt it will echo and reinforce the spirit of Resolution 2296.

The Revolutionary Union of Nerotysia
Official Communique
Public Message to the Nation of Inyursta

The Revolutionary Union of Nerotysia is dismayed by the barbaric acts of terrorism undertaken by paramilitary groups in Inyursta and Gran Cuscatlan. Any spirit of freedom of expression in those nations is clearly nothing more than an empty sham, designed only to decorate their public image and not to actually protect their citizens. The persecution of these noble politicians by the state-sponsored paramilitaries is disgusting, and its end will bring only peace and happiness to the people of both nations.

Secondly, the Revolutionary Union is astonished that the Inyurstan government refuses to address the real problems with its method of governance. The fact that even the noblest defenders of the people and the working class were forced to hide their true selves - this fact is more troubling than any simple political corruption. Again, the free exchange of ideas is clearly held in low regard in Inyursta, as is the working class and the people themselves.

It is for these reasons that the Revolutionary Union of Nerotysia offers unconditional asylum to any people or politicians in Inyursta or Gran Cuscatlan who fear for their safety for any reason. The Revolutionary Union would greatly encourage the besieged and oppressed socialists of Inyursta to heed this offer - their lives are in great danger, and the ability of the Revolutionary Union to protect them is highly limited while they remain outside its borders. The Revolutionary Union would be glad to include such individuals in its society.

Signed,

Nikita Pipenko
Acting Secretary-General
The Nerotysian Peninsular Communist Party

by **Brytene** » Sun May 24, 2015 7:55 am

Dyflin military base

The bodies had already been removed and taken to a morgue for storage, but the crime scene was largely left intact. DNA swabs from the aide were artificially placed on the frame of the gun, giving real butt-fresh authenticity, whilst the gun itself had its serial number filed off.

Captain Fitzpatrick took a look around at her teams' handiwork, before turning to her R-DARK companion and laughing.
'Paper-white slut,' she quoted, her tone amused 'that's a new one. The world won't miss that barbarian, eh.'

She glanced down at the latest message on her SlatePad.
"Whoa. Take a look at this. Conservative estimates of the cash they managed to pull from this dickbag's accounts."
The commissar leaned over and whistled.
"Not exactly gonna buy us any new warships, but maybe another Heavy Revelator? We could paint bananas all over it and send it to perform humanitarian missions in Inyurstan, eh?"

They laughed, checked once more to ensure that every possible piece of evidence from bullet trajectory to DNA evidence was as they wished, then turned to leave the blood-stained garage.

Official communique of the Witenagmot of Brytene

by **El Cuscatlan** » Sun May 24, 2015 8:31 am

*** Sierra Polcahes, Inyursta - Cuscatlan border

This region was the place where nobody who was sane enough to decide his own actions would go - or if he was not some vigilante from one of various Cuscatlani militias operating in this area. 17CV dominated this region. Originally formed in Veracruz to fight against local drug cartels, 17CV turned more Cuscatlani nationalist with every year they operated. Difference about who commando sombre and 17CV were was market by their members. While commando sombre was created by policemen, it were mostly self - defence groups of civilians who sometimes received some training, 17CV was created by former special forces personnel. While not as numerous as Commando Sombre, 17CV were the elite, ones who represented much better way of organisation and equipment, contrary to mostly "self-defence civilian militia" of commando sombre. Their commander, who happened to be former commander of DINA black ops unit, was Colonel Diego Rodriguez Fonesca. This man was known for being ruthless to drug dealers, but also for enforcing iron discipline among his men: two of them who attempted to trade drugs were found one day burned alive. Fonesca did not liked injustice; and here in Cuscatlan he had all means to enforce it.

Right now, Colonel Fonesca had come to greet the Inyurstan paramilitaries. This was to be major operation, coordinated by both groups. They all knew that if you step on fer - de - lance, it will bite you. And frankly, both Condor and fer - de - lance did not liked to be harassed. Both were proud animals representing pride of their people; people who shed blood for their freedom, freedom nobody will take from them.

When the Inyurstan vigilantes reached this area, they noticed the paramilitary checkpoint. Paramilitaries knew they were coming because they possessed and operates system of small drones made in local factory belonging to the 17CV supporting businessman, who happened to give them a model for their own use. Militia technicians gave it a camera. Originally intended for civilians, this model worked well in searching for drug dealers and communist terrorists in various areas of Cuscatlan. When the Inyurstan militiamen came to the checkpoint, they also noticed Nihonese - made Ueda pick-ups the militiamen used for enhanced mobility. Most of militiamen from Cuscatlani side of the border had Industrias Soberranas 48C, Cuscatlani native design from communist times now withdrawn from service. Few of them had Nihonese made Type 24 Mawashi Geri recoilless rifles, 1971 model. in addition to now rarely used Type 3 rifle from Nihon.

"Beinvenas à Cuscatlan, noza amés!" replied Fonesca, as his militiamen got ready "Nice to have you here senor. I organized you train to Santiago de Cuscatlan. It leaves tomorrow at 12.00. Follow us, please."

The militiamen gotten on their own trucks and led the Inyurstan convoy to place where they would spend next day. It was an enormous "abandoned" farm where unit of 24 militiamen was housed; they dug their base below the structure. Most of them were people from this area who were in Cuscatlani military in various units; and those vigilantes were extremely well trained in killing communists. When Inyurstan vigilantes entered the farm, they realized that this is also a gun factory where the 17CV produces cheap copies of various guns, mostly M4 re chambered for Cuscatlani 6.8x43 ammo and IS - 48C, but also various home made designs and ITA FRMA copies. One of rooms was so filled with guns that it was hard to make a step not to step on one. There were here in hundreds, in all kinds and sizes.

"Welcome to la Plata Senor!" spoke colonel Fonesca, showing him his base of operations. While he commanded big militia, for security's sake they rarely kept together "I am glad you decided to come to us."

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Mon May 25, 2015 10:59 pm

Dyflin International Airport

Two more ISD agents stepped off the plane and into the foreign terminal to meet their armed guard. They were the only (living) Inyurstans coming this way north, and had to capture several connector flights on other countries since no Inyurstan airlines flew direct to Brytene.
Nicco Tançias, a lighter-skinned and taller man with dark brown shaggy hair and a similar goatee flanked by a light scruff; and Oscar Melendez, a mostly African-descended man with a completely bald head and a well-manicured goatee unlike that of his partner. The ISD was in most cases used only for internal issue (similar to the US's FBI) but in this case they needed highly trained investigators to figure what went down up here in these icy reaches. They were also, due to the dangerous nature of this investigation, both volunteers.
They had no delusion that the armed guard was there for their protection, rather to police them; but regardless had left their weapons at home rather than give these gringos more ammunition (both figuratively and litteraly) to stage another botched assassination.

Lower Reaches of the Sierra Polaches, Cuscatlan

Commandante Cristoph Galvan nodded as he looked at the impressive facility and blatant connections of the Cuscatlani paramilitaries. In Inyursta, paramilitaries such as CADI (Coalition Autodefense D'Inyursta), as well as the smaller and now less-active group Contré-Rouje, were officially illegal, so they had to take some precautions to not draw the attention of law enforcement - granted the ISD and police wouldn't go out of their way to pick a fight guys keeping drug cartels and communist terrorists off the streets. Only the Cocha People's Defense Force (CPDF), and indigenous militia, was without bother by legality.
"Mercas tréz'coup et muchas gracias." Galvan said in both Inyurstan and Spanish, thanking his hosts.
"There is one thing I would like to ask, however. Would it be too much to request the use of several snipers or riflemen in our coming attack, comrade?"

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

An Inyurstan man in a suit and tie with dark sunglasses followed by a woman who appeared to be his wife wearing a blouse, knee-length skirt and three-inch black pumps both approached the gates of the Bryton embassy in the Cuscatlani capital.
The man came closer to the gates while the woman stood back, he pulled back the sides of his suit in an attempt to reveal he was unarmed.
"I am Senator Diego Rodrigues, Social Labor Party. My wife and I have come looking for asylum to escape the populist and violent nature of La Republiqua D'Inyursta"

Communique Officiál de la Republiqua D'Inyursta

It has come to our attention the blatant and repetive misinformed statements by the international community. Several falsehoods and severe misunderstandings have been perpetuated either accidentally or intentionally by those who know little about our country.

First off which, no ideology is banned or repressed in the Republic of Inyursta. Freedom of speech is the very first unalienable right guaranteed by our constitution, and it is afforded to all citizens regardless of personal beleifs.

Secondly, the charges levied against several politicians and their inner-government allies are for perjury and fraudulent statements. They are being held responsible for lying to their consituients, not for being communist. However, if your nation finds it oppressive to crack down on lying politicians then I believe we are wasting our words.

Lastly, the late Alberto de la Plata was NOT an Inyurstan citizen, and we are annoyed by the lack of reading comprehension and attention payed to news outlets which lead to these misconceptions. Furthermore, all paramilitaries (except for an indigenous people's self-defense force which has not to our knowledge committed any criminal actions) are illegal and their members have been and will continue to be prosecuted for criminal activity following a civilian trial by their piers garunteed by the Inyurstan Constitution.

We would also like to explain that we are in fact a republic which is governed through democracy. And so long as our actions are authorized, supported - and in fact can be challenged, recalled and struck down by a direct majority vote - we shall defend said actions and the will of our people against the anti-democratic suggests of apparent authoritarianism suggested by certain agents of the international community.

Signed:
- President Jack Peresque
- Secretary of State Mario Velacoro
- Assembly Speaker Rafael Gusman
- Cheif of Staff Antonio DeLoroza

by **Brytene** » Mon May 25, 2015 11:48 pm

Dyflin International

A dark-clad woman with dark red hair was waiting for the two at the airport, along with a pair of soldiers and, funnily enough, a news reporter from the Brytscop, who almost instantly started trying to ask the visitors questions.
The woman cut the reporter off, however, and stepped forwards to introduce herself.
"Welcome to Dyflin Canton. I am Centurion Catamount." she said, not offering a branch or regiment, but the black tower patch on her arm suggested she was a member of R-DARK. For a secret agent she was both young and soft-looking, slender but not the hardened physique one would expect of a special forces operator. Her hair was done in elegant scarlet curls, again hardly practical given her professional, but her bearing was straight and her attitude cool and collected.
"You will want to see the crime scene and the corpses, I assume. Please follow me."
She led them to a Sea Eagle VTOL, which escorted them to the crime scene. Once there, they were afforded full freedom of movement within the base, though naturally they were escorted at all times both for security reasons and their own safety. The base was nothing more than a storage depot for old parts of non-essential vehicles and equipment, there were no secrets to be found and no databases to be trawled.

Santiago de Cuscatlan

The Brytisc Embassy in Santiago de Cuscatlan was not large. This was not because Gran Cuscatlan was small, indeed it was a large and important nation, but Brytene and Cuscatlan did not have much by the way of trade or diplomatic ties, and so the embassies of both nations had little more to do than send home the occasional Cuscatlani who had had too much to drink at a stag do in Dyflin or the odd Brytene who forgot whether weed was legal or not in Cuscatlan.

As such, the embassy had only five staff - the ambassador, an aide, one local Cuscatlani intern, and two guards. The intern happened to be away the day Senator Rodrigues arrived, studying at university, and so it was that the aide stepped out onto the small front pathway, lined either side with a shallow water feature pond that went right up to the fence. Behind him, two guards stepped out to flank the doorway.

"Welcome, Mr and Mrs Rodrigues," he said, opening the gates and shutting them quickly behind the couple. The guards stepped up and frisked both of them quickly, checking for weapons or explosives, before hustling them inside.

Once inside, they were met by the ambassador, a tall woman in her middle age, running to curvy but in good shape for someone in their 40s, with blonde hair cut to shoulder length. She had obviously led a cushy life, and wore a slightly-too-tight business suit in dark blue with a khaki shirt.

"I apologise for the extreme security measures, Senator Rodrigues," she began, stepping forwards to shake their hands. "I am Ambassador Latrell of Brytene. I understand you wish to take up our offer of asylum?"

Turning, she led them into a small office with a glass-topped table and several swivel chairs. The aide disappeared, returning with some water and fresh apple juices, whilst the ambassador pulled some forms onto the table.

"Firstly, you'll have to sign these. They're waivers, indicating that you voluntarily renounce your Inyurstan citizenship and all related offices and titles, as a result of duress or persecution in your home country. I'll need you to hand over your passports too, you'll be issued with temporary Brytisc ones as soon as possible."

The aide whispered something in her ear and she nodded before continuing. The aide pulled out his phone and left the room, already dialling.

"I must inform you, you may have to leave at incredibly short notice. This is not Inyursta, but local government is incredibly in their favour. Signing these waivers and handing over your passports goes some way to affording you legal protection, but I must ask, other than your leftist political beliefs, has the Inyurstan government got any other reason or excuse to charge you with any kind of crime?"

by **El Cuscatlan** » Tue May 26, 2015 1:21 am

*** Lower Reaches of the Sierra Polaches, Cuscatlan

"Si Amigo" smiled the Fonesca, pointing his hand towards another room "Come with us."

They entered an enormous room, full of sniper rifles ans semi - auto rifles made by the 17CV. To say it frankly, this amount was enormous. Various rounds, various sizes, various length.... Colonel Fonesca brought up first one and given it to the Inyurstan paramilitaries. It resembled Mosin Nagan in look, but there were several differences, such as materials it was built from and RIS to mount various modern scopes.

"We call it E1" he smiled as he presented the rifle to them "Based on Mosin - Nagan, re-chambered for 7.7x58 Arakawa. Still packs an enormous punch. We added some modifications in external look to make it more.... comfortable also."

He then turned and took another one. This one was semi - automatic this time.

"Arakawa rifle. Symbol of Nihonese national pride, still used as marksman rifle by their military. Uses the same ammunition. Semi - auto, comparable to SKS or M14. Thing you want to fight on longer distances."

Then he pointed at enormous anti - materiel rifle laying on the table nearby. It was enormous, powerful rifle.

"Joint Nihonese - Cuscatlani Design. Type 1 Anti - materiel rifle, originally called anti - helicopter rifle. 20x103mm round. You point that at somebody's head and it vaporizes."

He turned back to them with a smile on his face:

"Which ones do you want, amigos?"

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Tue May 26, 2015 3:32 pm

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

Agents Tançias and Melendez thanked their hosts, and almost immediately began surveying the crime scene. Everything so far looked legit, especially as far as ballistics was concerned. Both agents were swapping back and forth between surveying evidence with their latex gloves on, and taking pictures and notes with their gloves off.
Tançias then took something out and swabbed the hands of the shooter before spraying the swab with a small bottle of some forensic chemical, and looked on patiently at the swab.
"Did you or your associates at any moment wipe off, or excessively handle the hands of the shooter since the gun was discharged?" Agent Tançias asked the captain as he again removed and stored another pair of latex gloves, and got out his notepad and a voice recorder.

Meanwhile, Agent Melendez himself had moved in the survey the gun. He noticed the serial number was filed off and showed it to his partner without saying a word, before putting it in a bag.
"I do hope you understand we intent to take both the bodies and the murder weapon back to Inyursta, correct?" Melendez asked the Bryton attendees.

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

"It is understandable, several bad embassy situations in our own country is the reason why we had to sneak into Cuscatlan." The man said as the two guards finished frisking them both."But yes, we would like to apply for asylum." He replied as he reached for a glass of water.
The pair then produced their passports and began filling out the requested information.

"Well other than the known charges of Perjury and Fraudulent Statements, the best they can get me on is unpaid parking tickets. What about it?" He asked the Ambassador while the woman looked around the room and twirled her long black hair in one finger.

Lower Reaches of the Sierra Polaches, Cuscatlan

"No, I am sorry for the misunderstanding. What I was asking was for your men to take the roof tops and keep the windows covered while we make our advance." Nonetheless, Commandante Galvan was impressed with the CV17 stockpiles of weapons. The issue with communist terrorists and drug cartels must have been much worse than it was in Inyursta, with the former pushed back into the no-man's-land of Tirmeno and the latter either eradicated from some regions or pushed to down-low in others back home in Inyursta.

The various paramilitary soldiers checked their equipment stored in the back of some trucks and other sturdy vehicles; unlike their Cuscatlani counterparts the vehicles of choice for the Inyurstan parcos were older-model Land Rover and Jeep vehicles, with large industrial flatbeds for mass transport. Contrary to what one would expect, much of their stash was non-militaristic in nature; including large but portable floodlights, flares, drills and even wooden planks. They then re-tightened the tarps and chords protecting the equipment as the night slowly descended on the west-facing slopes of the Sierra Polaches, and the chorus of insects, birds and frogs echoing from the jungles below and cloud forests above ensued.

Alto Mèlan

Alto Mèlan was a medium-sized suburb of Castille de Terro, and the only of such suburbs on the roughly hundred-mile diameter island which was actually higher than the fortified capital while the other smaller communities were all nestled on the coast. It has a rich history, and despite the bloody battles for control of the island had remained mostly undamaged during the Counter-Revolution in the 60's.
Sitting along the horizontal, spaceless rows of small, baroque-era buildings was one of many shops, above the door it read "Audrey's Bella Marché".

Inside, a man somewhere in his early thirties in a cream-colored button-up shirt - with the top button naturally left undone - sat down in a chair next to a cash register. He sipped slowly on a glass of guanoabana juice while he eagerly checked his phone. With his slick black hair and equally dark mustache he looked out of place in a feminine boutique, especially considering the fact the man was Captain Emilio Ramirez of the ISD. However, this was his wife, Audrey's, shop; and it was supposedly his day off which he was ideally supposed to be using helping out his lover, but instead was preoccupied awaiting a call from their headquarters in Castille de Terro about an incident in Brytene. Across the large room Audrey was helping a mother and her daughter look for a prom dress, but as far as Emilio's nervous but was concerned it might as well have been a raid against a cartel safehouse.
Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes like hours, and his phone never seemed to move.
But when your awaiting news about your men in a foreign country that most likely just assassinated one of your countrymen, no news was good news...

by **McNernia** » Tue May 26, 2015 7:26 pm

OFFCIAL COMMUNIQUE OF THE KINGDOM OF MCNERNIA
OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OF STATE FOR FOREIGN AFFAIRS

From:The Desk of the Secretary of State For Foreign Affairs
To:The World
Cc:
Sec:OPEN
Sub:The Recent Events

Greetings,

We have heard of the business of the death of various persons. Namely a Cuscatlani who was involved with the Communist-sympathizers in the Government of INY and the business of a senator with connections to organized crime. We would like to make the following points known about the Mcnernian position in these matters.

-We stand with the Republic of INY in these times of trial, when Treason and Corruption abound we are prepared to offer all aid and assistance necessary to maintain security.

-In spirit do we commend the Militias of the Gran Cuscatlan border country for their actions to protect their communities however we would ask that to ensure you do not provoke the ire of the world by such brutal action. Surely there could be hand over of the person to the Police?

-To the world, anyone who thinks that we shall abandon an ally, you are gravely mistaken.

Signed
-L.Caldosean MP

by **Brytene** » Tue May 26, 2015 11:19 pm

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

Catamount pretended to think for a moment. "Unfortunately yes, immediately after he was hit one of our personnel attempted to disarm him. He was already collapsing, so the effort was futile, but I do believe the right hand was grabbed. He was firing one-handed you see, which is probably why he missed his first shot."

She offered a polite smile as the investigator packaged away the pistol.
"Oh of course. I imagine you'll want to give them proper Christian burials and all of that, and perhaps you will have a better chance of finding a lead on that black-market Bersa than we will." she said, her expression nothing but helpful.

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

Latrell smiled. "It's simply that if you are clean of any other serious charges, it will be much easier to push your asylum claim. If you were wanted for say, murder, that could present problems, but the Inyurstan government has not made any such allegations so far."

When the forms were filled out, she took them back and, after glancing over them to check everything was in order, slid them into a folder alongside the couples' passports, before excusing herself for a brief phone call.

When she came back, she was smiling.
"Well I have good news Senator; the Rihtmagot has approved your status as refugees and you are cleared to enter Brytene. We'll work on getting you there as soon as possible, and once there your case will be reviewed in full."

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Wed May 27, 2015 12:00 pm

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

"So then by the fact the gun was in his palm when he collapsed to the ground, I take it your man grabbed the wrist or the outside of he hand?" Agent Tançias asked, his voice recorder still playing. He had already noticed one major inconsistency in the Brytons' story, and there was a possibility it could be reasonably explained, but if not then it would better serve his needs to have their official account tripping all over itself.

"Well actually they are needed for closer examination. We will hopefully be able to tell where the bullets were manufactured at least, if not then rule out where the ammunition didn't come from.
As far as a proper Christian burial goes, the aide yes. Even if he did kill the senator he assassinated a criminal and a traitor, and is still a true Inyurstano. But fuck the former senator, we could toss that waste of space out into jungles for the culpeos for all I care, and it's not like the family he destroyed and left behind is going to care for his cheating, stealing, defecting ass..." Melendez explained. The fact is that not only was Sãorules a scumbag, crooked politician, but he ran from his punishment, and even worse attempted to betray his country while doing so. Neither Tançias nor Melendez - or just about anyone in Inyursta aware of the situation for that matter - believed the Brytons were really going to extradite him. It simply didn't make any sense that somehow lying to your people is an honorable crime yet embezzlement was somehow taboo?
Maybe it was just the cultural difference between a New-World democracy and an Old-World social-welfare monarchy or whatever the hell the Bryistic State considered itself, but nothing about this situation added up.

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

"That's wonderful! Do you know when we will be leaving?" The man asked, as he nervously twitched his thumbs. "Do you know when it will be possible to get us out of this part of the world?". He continued, revealing the reason he was so anxious. It was only a matter of time before the various Inyurstan services realized he was gone, and eventually where he was.

"If you could kindly point me to the restroom, please?" His companion asked as she got up and looked around. Her small purse still tucked tightly under her shoulder as she anxiously awaited instructions from her hosts.

Alto Mèlan

The off-duty ISD captain Emilio Ramirez had taken a breather, and walked up the the closest corner store. He grabbed some cream-frosted coconut cookies and a small flask of burbon, before laying several bills of U.S. currency on the counter. The worker counted the money and then pointed to register to show that Ramirez was roughly fifty-cents short. As he reached into his pocket the dreaded phone went off.
He tossed a single Inyurstan fifty-cent piece onto the counter as he stepped out side to listen to the incoming call.
"Hey boss, get back to the office ASAP. Apparently our office in Gracio picked up one of Sãorule's former "associates"; and apparently wants to know what happened to her money..." Ramirez clicked off the phone, grabbed his liquor and snacks before hurrying back down the block to disappoint his wife by telling her he was going to end up working today after all...

by **Brytene** » Thu May 28, 2015 12:05 am

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

Catamount sighed internally. These guys were determined to try and catch them on gunshot residue, but given that a heavy KA-P7 handgun had been fired less than three feet away from the unfortunate aide, there was bound to be some gunshot residue on the victim. She tugged out her SlatePad and began pulling up shots of the crime scene.
One showed the aide on his back, his arm flung out, the gun laying on his outstretched fingertips.
She shrugged, showing the image to the Inyurstans.
"He could have been grabbed anywhere. As I said earlier, the disarm was abortive since the target was already falling."

She listened to his impassioned rant with feigned interest. These people were obviously barbarians, feeding their dead to wild animals. She had to pity them - she had the benefit of coming from a modern, civilised country where the head of state was impartially elected, where extensive free market rights and civil liberties were combined with compassionate healthcare security and free education. These two men came from a country in which the government constantly whipped up hate against its opponents, where even holding the wrong political beliefs could see you arrested or lynched on the street, and where murder and assassination were commonplace. The Senator would have had her pity, except he was one of the ones who had encouraged the cruelty, had profited from it and used it to his own ends. To be frank, listening to the ramblings of this so-called professional, she suspected they had done the Senator a favour by killing him before the Inyurstan thugs could get their hands on him.

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

Latrell smiled. "Down the hall to the left."

She leaned back in her chair. "Well, we have chartered a private jet which should be ready to fly in about three hours. Officially, it is for myself and my staff. Until then, we wait, but unless you were tailed here you should be fine. Even if they somehow track you, they have no grounds to invade this embassy."

by **El Cuscatlan** » Thu May 28, 2015 2:38 am

*** Santiago de Cuscatlan - 4 hours before Inyurstan senator entered the

The vigilantes left the safe house for Santiago, and headed among the jungles and swamps towards the heart of the darkness. Lucky for the vigilantes, Martinez in early 2000s ordered building a series of highways across whole Cuscatlan, to allow better transportation. The highways were usually safe meaning that nobody attempted to kidnap them, as sometimes happened in rural Cuscatlan. 4 hours before the Inyurstan senator arrived into the Brytenian embassy, the Inyurstan vigilantes were reaching outskirts of Santiago, seeing enormous skyscrapers of the "Jewel of Orinoco" standing on the horizon, like statues to Martinez's work to improve this country. Fonesca, before they left, informed them of two things. First, that their man who will provide them snipers in Santiago was codenamed "Mano de Piedra", which literally meant stone fist, and was name of local "jumping viper". They also were informed that the paramilitaries forged alliance with local police force, COE (Special Operations Command) and that they should not be afraid of them, since COE is having their backs covered. Giving them exact route to Santiago, they have been notified that they will be in touch and that the man whom they will have to contact will wave them three times with blue piece of cloth.

2 km outside Santiago they met a police checkpoint manned by COE. They were easy to recognize - while BOEP, unit that Carlos Silva was commander of (only ceremonially now) worn black uniforms, COE preferred blue tiger stripe uniforms and wore blue berets instead of BOEP's black berets. Both units were not fans of each other, and usually competed in a strange competition "who can kill more gangsters per year". Paramilitary policemen were checking the documents of the incoming vehicles. But when the Inyurstan vigilante 's cars were seen by them, from one of police APCs a tall, well built policeman waved them three times with a piece of blue cloth, and signalled them to follow him with their vehicles through a narrow and abandoned road into small abandoned parking within the jungle. Once they stopped, instead of control, the police commander - a well known in the area man, Commissioner Carlos Molina, who commanded the local COE - stepped towards him, and greeted him by the hand.

"Buenevidenas" he spoke in heavily accented Inyurstan "Welcome to Santiago mi amigo!"

The same moment Inyurstan vigilantes noticed few masked militiamen walking out of the jungle. Since police blocked the road, nobody would see them here, and this, besides, looked like a routine control.

"I am Mano de Piedra" continued the police commander, and then Inyurstans realised something. They could not tell where the COE ended and 17CV begun; since both organisations successfully merged. Most of vigilante attacks of 17CV in Santiago were done by off - duty COE policemen, angered that courts released a druglord who they arrested before.

"We have not much time." said the police officer and vigilante commander in the same person "These guys announced plans to leave Cuscatlan very soon. If we are to strike, we strike now. Let's remind ourselves whole plan. My snipers will cover you."

*** Near Brytene's embassy; 3 hours before planned flight to Brytene

Manuel Quirós just entered the tower of local church, alongside with his friend, Joao Ventura Gomes. Both were snipers working day to day as COE operators; unofficially they were now off - duty, being.... 17CV vigilantes. Both of them were well trained snipers, with Gomes acting as spotter of the Quirós. Deep inside the tower of unused that day church, the men took of a Parker Hale M82 - a sniper rifle commonly used by militias - and both placed themselves from an angle towards the open window. They were going to shoot from deeper inside of the room, and aligned from one side of the window - making them unseen by the people outside. Each of them stood near another window. The angle from that shooting position to embassy was roughly 90*, which granted them an ideal chance for observing and hitting targets from every window on this side. Three additional sniper teams were in positions observing different sides of the embassy.

"Jararaca Actual to jararaca one, give me a SITREP, over!" said a voice from radio they had, silently.

Joao quickly grabbed the radio, pressed VPTT button and begun to silently speak towards to it:

"Jararaca Actual, Jararaca one, over!"

"Jararaca Actual, Current position church tower, over!"

"Jararaca Actual, no detection or causalities, over!"

"Jararaca Actual, Guns and ammunition fully operational, over!"

"Jararaca Actual, two tangos protecting ambassador. Man just entered the embassy. Pistols observed among tangos. Tangos packing up and talking to entered man, over!"

"Jararaca Actual, intent to engage tangos on your mark, end of SITREP, how copy, over!"

A second of silence fell in the radio, and after a second, the same voice, but much calmer, replied:

"Solid copy jararaca one" the voice smiled "Green light to engage on my mark, out!"

With that, the operation has begun. And nothing could stop storm that was just unleashed...

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Thu May 28, 2015 9:21 am

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

Agent Tançias looked at the photo on her tablet, he snapped a picture of the screen. "Well okay then, that's all I really need to know." He said, lying just several politicians had lied about their politics - the only difference is that he was lying to save his own ass and that of his partners while the scum who were apparently worth protecting here in Brytene were just lying to get elected. Tançias knew if he let the Bryton's on to the gaping forensic hole in their story he might end up "assassinated" by his partner before Melendez himself was shot dead to prevent any other story from being heard.

Melendez sensed a bad vibe coming from his host, and an even more cautious yet serious vibe coming from his partner. He reserved himself to take needless photos of the blood splatter and collect more empty shell casings than was truly needed.

"I believe this concludes all we need to see here. When can we get the next plane out of here along with the bodies and our evidence?" Tançias asked.

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

"Thank you, I will just be a minute." The woman said, looking at her watch as she left the office and walked down the hall. She entered the restroom, sat down in a stall and began quickly texting on her phone.
The one who called himself Diego looked down at his own watch as he stared back at the ambassador.
"So what do we do now while we wait?" He seemed a little relieved now that he was going to make it out of the jungle, so to speak. Now if he could just survive the next three hours...

Meanwhile, on the outside Le Coalition Autodefense D'Inyursta (CADI) was wasting no time taking a tour of Santiago. Most of the vehicles waited in empty parking lots and open spaces in streets surrounding but out of sight of the embassy; except for a single former military humvee which had been casually lifted from a military scrapyard. It looked it belonged in a Mad Max movie almost, with make-shift armor plating surrounding it and metal prongs welded to its steel brush guard, with an RPKI-2M (local copy of RPK-74) mounted to the top like a ghetto excuse for a .50cal.
Commandante Galvan had announced to his crew just minutes ago that there was a change of plan, and instead of the complex plan they had readied for going in, would simply walk - or rather crash - right in.

The vehicle reved itself up from a few dozen yards back facing straight at the embassy gate. Waiting alongside the wall were roughly twelve parcos, lined up in two groups of six, with an assortment of AK variants, FN FAL's and a few semiautomatic rifles, including AR-15's.
Finally the driver put the pedal to the floor as the RPKI gunner held on tight while still searching for targets; and the heavy car slammed through the gate, leaving on side swinging and the other stuck to the metal prongs on its front.
Seconds after the car had came through the twelve paramilitaries storming the grounds with their guns at the ready. Their orders were to take everyone alive, but naturally resistance would be met with necessary force...

ISD HQ, Castille de Terro

Captain Ramirez waltzed into the office late in the afternoon, still wearing casual clothes. A few agents and investigtors made cheering remarks as their immediate superior walked in on his supposed day off coming in looking like a civilian. He walked into the office of his deputy-lieutenant, and noticed several higher-ups also standing around on video conference with their counter-parts across the channel in Gracio.
That was one of the annoying parts of being in charge of the localities around the capital, you had to deal with national-level bigwigs always in your business.
"Bon aprez'midi" he said as he came in and sat down. The ISD agents on the other end of the video were explaining that one of Lanson Sãorules' favorite hookers had just walked in reporting identity theft when one of her accounts shared with the late former-senator turned up empty and another had seen the maximum deposit taken out twice in the past two days.
"You want to move her here, or send someone over there?" Asked Branch Chief Lorenzo DuPont to the national ISD Director, Ferdinand Sabarro.
"Bring her over here. I don't want to have to transport half the national leadership over there, when we can just bring her and a representative from their cyber-analyst department over." Director Sabarro replied, even though Gracio was a short plane or helicopter ride away, it wasn't the most cost-effective venture to send multiple persons over the channel.
"So other than her contact with the late senator, what is this chick's exact relation to internal national security?" Ramirez asked.
"She walked into Gracio's Fraud and Identity Theft department this morning. Well she apparently had several shared accounts with our favorite defecting thief, but it turns out someone has drained and tried to drain some of them. Our analysts over there tracked the source of the withdrawals..."
"And?"
"C'este ne viabos paz Inyurstan..."

by **Brytene** » Thu May 28, 2015 11:55 am

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

Catamount shrugged. "There's a room reserved for you at the Holiday Inn near Dyflin International for tonight, but we can have the bodies and evidence there in about ninety minutes if you can find a commercial flight to take you."

Dyflin International was a thriving airport, and no doubt the two would find a flight to suit them easily enough.

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

The two soldiers, Sergeant James West and Marine Arthur Gordon, reacted instantly. As per their training, they instantly moved away from windows, wary of molotov cocktails and sharpshooters who were the hallmark of terrorist attacks. They rushed down the narrow hallway of the building, shouting for the Ambassador and her aide.

Latrell, meanwhile, stood up and instantly hit a few buttons on her SlatePad. The advanced IDAItech device linked to the IDAItech satellite network and began live-streaming a call to the Witenagmot offices in Brytene. As they hurried, Latrell began speaking rapidly, remembering her training too.
"This is Ambassador Lorana Latrell of Brytene, currently in Santiago de Cuscatlan. The embassy is under attack by unknown forces. We currently have Senator Diego and his wife," she paused as James West bustled her into the only safe room in the building, the kitchen, which had no exterior windows and two doors, one leading into the narrow alleyway which ran behind the tiny embassy. "Find the Senator's wife! she snapped at the Sergeant, who seemed to ignore her.

The aide had followed, dragging the Senator, and was using his Cuscatlani phone to alert the authorities. It was worth a try, as presumably even the most corrupt of governments would be embarrassed to see a foreign ambassador killed or kidnapped in the heart of such an important city.

Sergeant West bustled to the front door, shouting for the Senator's wife to stay put. He could hear footsteps and shouting right outside - no doubt they were about to breach, or else hurl flashbangs or simply spray machine-gun fire through the door and windows. He crouched for a moment, glancing up to see if there was a shadow behind the keyhole, and then retreated further back into the building, taking up a position in the cupboard under the stairs and aiming down the corridor towards the front door, the only way through this part of the house.

Behind him, Private Gordon slid open the rear door. The alleyway seemed deserted, so he stepped out briefly then ducked back inside. Gesturing for the other three to come out, he handed the aide his KA-P7 and kicked open the door into someone's yard.
"Quickly, through here!" the dark-haired private whispered.

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Thu May 28, 2015 5:46 pm

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

Tançias looked at Melendez, who then pulled out his phone and began searching for any empty plane ticket south.
"We will have it taken to the airport as soon as you can get it there. The sooner we get this back to a lab in Inyursta, the better."

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

As the vehicle came through and came to a stop with the top RPKI fixed on the first-level windows, two more paramilitaries quickly exited out the two rear passenger seats and set up position to break down the front door. The other twelve gunmen split up around the house, for a final total six in the front and four in back with two on either side. Those in the rear of the building prepared to break down the back door while the two-man teams on either side kept their eyes out for people trying to escape through the window.
The initial plan had involved breaching through the sides of the building, but that aspect had been cancelled in response to more up-to-date information about the embassy. Commandante Galvan came walking into the courtyard and blew an air horn to signal the busting down of the doors.
Cuscatlani snipers had their entry into the building covered from all angles, but above all they would help counter the threat of someone with a pistol popping their head out of the second story window and getting in a few lucky top shots at them. Six men broke into the front, with four into the back. A wave of about six reinforcements came from a pick-up truck which quickly parked just outside, and came rushing into the courtyard to take positions behind their comrades and clear the way for the utilities to be unloaded.

Castille de Terro International; Rafael LeCoutier Terminal

Captain Ramirez stood beside Branch Chief DuPont as the awaited the small, dark-gray jet aircraft to land on the empty runway as the sun settled in the sharp orange horizon. This specific tangent of runway had been turned over for federal and military matters since the opening of the double-strip main terminal complex. A light breeze blew over the open space, alleviating the stagnant heat of the afternoon, as the two walked forward to greet the passengers.

The cabin doors came open, and the first person out was another ISD agent in their stereotypical black-tux, slick black hair and well-manicured black mustache look. He walked forward and greeted his peers, who were equally anxious to see what this man's team had uncovered.
The second person out was a woman in her middle or late twenties, with dark brown hair and a lighter complexion which implied Irish or Eastern European immigrant heritage (albeit still will a well-tanned, sun kissed hue). She wore a magenta dress with a neutral/beige colored over jacket and similarly-colored mary jane pumps - an outfit which did a decent job of advertising the goods without advertising the profession.

Ramirez looked at his watch after greeting the two who had unintentionally blown this case wide open, and gave a silent gesture asking his superior for permission to bail for the night, and catch up with this mess tomorrow...

by **Brytene** » Fri May 29, 2015 12:23 am

Dyflin Military Depot, Brytene

The two were escorted back to a Nihtgenga LAC, and a small convoy set off, a truck carrying the bodies and assembled evidence behind them. They trundled through the slowly fading light, with the guards again making little conversation.

Perhaps twenty minutes passed, and the outskirts of Dyflin had just appeared as a low sprawl of light in the valley below them, when Catamount's earpiece began buzzing. She ducked her head, putting two fingers to her ear, and listened intently, nodding automatically despite being on a phone call.

"Understood. Wilco."

She twisted in her seat to look at the two agents.
"Terrible news gentlemen - it seems that violence has erupted in Gran Cuscatlan. Armed gangs are running amok in Santiago de Cuscatlan! Maybe you want to call your superiors back at home, find out if your country is such a mess too?"

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

The doors burst inwards, breached by these supposed terrorists, and Sergeant West smiled a wolfish smile. As the first figure stepped through the door, he stretched out his arm and flipped a switch on the fuse box in the under-stairs cupboard. Power to the whole embassy went out, throwing the interior into darkness just as the claymore he had planted by the front door whilst crouching went off, blasting the first couple of intruders with high explosive and shrapnel.

He took careful aim down the iron sights of his MARS rifle, the barrel a little oddly weighted thanks to the suppressor he had slotted onto the front and the underbarrel attachment, and squeezed the trigger, aiming for the surviving silhouettes which were outlined by the harsh sunlight.

Behind the embassy

Even as the three civilians ducked through the doorway into the garden beyond, Private Gordon saw a glint of light followed by a flash from a window in an apartment block on the other side of the far street to the south of the embassy, and his heart sank. In a split second, he registered both the fact he was probably about to die, and the fact that the three civilians were running directly towards what was almost certainly a sniper nest.

Mere milliseconds after these wild and blurred thoughts had run through his mind, the bullet arrived, fired from a Parker Hale M82. It crashed through his tough Dragonskin personal armour at the shoulder, a well-placed shot from a professional sniper. He was thrown to the ground, his right arm useless and his shoulder shattered, bleeding profusely. He already felt weak, and he could faintly hear Latrell screaming.

He hauled himself to one knee and sighted on the window. Now he knew they were there, he could still see movement - like any professional sniper team, they were getting up and moving.
Propping his MARS on his hip, his finger moved to the secondary trigger.

With a thump, a 40mm grenade round arced towards the window, punching against the central pane and exploding in a cloud of fury as Private Gordon toppled over, unconcious.

The aide, one Daryl Wilson, gasped as the shots were exchanged, flinching as an explosion ripped the front of an apartment block ahead of them. His first thought was worry for their young native intern, Sara Silva (no relation), who he knew lived in that apartment block, typical student digs. Luckily (OOC - see earlier post) she had not been in the embassy so far today, as she had had lectures to attend, but he didn't know if she was already done for the day and back home or not.

He led the frightened Ambassador, who was still recording, and the shaken Senator, worried for his wife, into the shadow of the low tenement house beside them. He could hear shouting and gunfire from the embassy behind them, and the private wasn't replying anymore, so he froze, unsure of what to do.

There were screams and the screeching of tires from the street in front of them, when suddenly Daryl noticed a familiar car. The silver pickup could belong to only one person - Sara! It was battered, old, and the tailgate was missing. She was staring at the scarred front of her apartment block and so did not notice Daryl until he banged on her window, tugging the doors open.

"Sara, no time! Get us out of here! Drive!" he shouted frantically, pulling himself into the passenger seat as the other two piled into the cramped rear seats.

Shocked, Sara floored the gas.

Caudillo Silva's office, Gran Cuscatlan

A phone was ringing in Silva's office. The instant it was picked up, a gravelly and booming voice snapped down the phone.
"This is King fucking Cenwulf of the Kingdom of bloody Brytene. Put me through to whoever the hell claims to be in charge, immediately."

Elsewhere

Brytene did not have many embassies in SACTO countries, but what few there were instantly began shutting down, evacuating their personnel and vital materials.

by **Riysa** » Fri May 29, 2015 8:01 am

OOC: Heads-up Brytene, setting off a Claymore indoors...is a really bad idea. Each mine has the explosive equivalent of about 5 M67 grenades going off (not counting fragmentation), and indoors, the blast wave is reflected off of surfaces. At best, your soldiers inside are deaf for a while and stunned. More likely than not, the guy who set it off is dead from concussive injury to internal organs, and anyone near the blast too.

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Fri May 29, 2015 11:45 am

Outskirts of Dyflin, Brytene

"Haha, what else is new?" Melendez replied. Armed gang shootouts in Cuscatlan were like forest fires in California - they happened all the time yet everyone acted shocked when they did occur. He figured if they were anything dangerous the Cuscatlani police and vigilantes would quickly be at their throats.
Despite Martinez's "Miracle of La Plata", Gran Cuscatlan was still suffering from the effects of European colonialism and Maoist communism. Even Inyursta had lingering aftershocks of the deadly toxic cocktail of the two ideologies, although fifty years of free-market capitalism had helped cure many of the effects, but Cuscatlan was still locked in a bloody battle with inside who would want them back under the slavery of leftism, those abroad who aimed to "civilize" them back into the oppression of colonialism and imperialism, and those in the shadows aiming to make a profit off of the struggle.

"I think you are gravely underestimating the capabilities of myself and my peers, and our fellow law enforcement. Aside from the current situation revolving thieves and liars infiltrating our government, we haven't had significant violence in any of our main provinces since the late nineties. And no where near the levels that stain our neighbors, bless their spirits and curse the red and white bastards who caused this shit..." Tançias replied. What he was wondering at the moment is who got shot in Cuscatlan for them to care, or weather she was just looking to get a ruse from them. The whole time Tançias was keeping his eye on the truck following them, making sure the evidence stayed within his eyesight...

Bryistic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

As the first two militants came through, one man kicking while the second had his AKI-1 (local AKM clone) pointed into the hallway, both were blown backward and killed instantly - one by the blast and the other by the shrapnel of the door being shattering into his chest, legs and neck. A third was injured when her leg caught a law splinter from the door exploding.
The six reinforcement parcos came forward and relieved their shell-shocked comrades as they tossed smoke grenades and cheap flashing strobelights into the darkness, Commandante Galvan saw the chaos and ordered the injured girl be taken to a local hospital as he casually walked around back with his MP412 Rex revolver in one hand.

The parcos storming the back came around either corner as they heard a shot ring out. When they arrived they saw a man either unconscious or dead in the doorway as three people were running around back. Two men began persuing, more casually jogging than trully trying to run them down while the other two militants entered the building through the back door. Those in pursuit saw the truck pull forward and the target bang on the window, before trying to load into the vehicle. They opened fire with several quick bursts from their rifles, one an AKI-1 and the other an FN-FAL, aimed entirely at the tires to stop the mobility of the vehicle, and hoping the Cuscatlani snipers would kill the engine block - regardless, they weren't concerned considering they had the deck stacked entirely in their favor in more ways than the Brytons could ever imagine...

On the surrounding streets, one crew of two men in a pick-up truck parked out of sight saw the three trying to escape. One of them immediately recognized the face of the Inyurstan with the ambassador and some staff or guard.
"Drive! Cut them off!" He shouted to his partner, who hit the gas as more gunfire ensued and sparks and puffs of asphalt came from around the tires of their target.
The driver then accelerated, aiming to fly out in front of the car. Meanwhile the second got on his disposable cell phone and alerted the others. Within minutes this whole street way would be flooded with CADI vehicles.

Inside the embassy, the senator's wife heard the explosion. She grabbed a long hand towel, ditched her shoes and crawled out into the dark hallway.
"Where are you at?" She echoed to the private who was watching the door, as she hugged the wall and tried to let her eyes get adjusted to the darkness inspite of the smoke leaking from the front entrance and the strobelights flashing on and off.

by **El Cuscatlan** » Fri May 29, 2015 6:24 pm

OOC: Sorry for poor post. Damn tired.

*** Carlos Silva's embassy

General Carlos Silva, president of Gran Cuscatlan, El Caudillo of the Nation and Chairman of Junta of National Restoration, took a snip of the water as he read through the reports that were there. From his reports, both as commander of biggest paramilitary police unit in Cuscatlan, and as chairman of the junta, it came that his military government achieved much of success in the lands. First, the vast areas of the south and central Cuscatlan have been completely pacified, with people living in peace. Second, he actually succeeded with enlarging Cuscatlani military for planned operations for removal of communism in Latin America. Silva sat down on his chair and thought. People around him seen him always the same; humble, yet charismatic, loyal to the nation man who never shown any emotion and was calm even if death looked in his eyes. That calmness was extremely hard to break - but moment it happened Silva turned into monster who was capable of ripping men with his bare hands. While public loved him, truth was that Silva, as commander of what many would call paramilitary police and leftist death squad, knew that in land like Cuscatlan only unit acting with extreme brutality and operating on the border of the law can be successful and establish order. That is why his unit, the BOEP, was now what was elite. Some accused them of being his private army, but he did not care.

He very quickly however took the phone up, and was surprised when he heard voice of angry Brytenic monarch:

"Dear Senhor" he stated with no emotion, just the same voice of either man of peace or a cold killer. Cnrwulf could enjoy the Portuguese accent of Silva, since his Paratapaisian ancestry "I suggest you to express yourself correctly, as it is not suiting for a head of state to express such... vulgar words. How can I be of help?"

The Cernwufl would sure be angered by the fact that Silva was so calm. But Carlos was man who spent most of his life in faveals, commanding an unit responsible for pacifying most violet drug dealing militias. If they did not killed him - neither will some monarch from country ten times smaller than his. And Cernwulf for sure heard the disgust and "looking from up" from Silva's voice, like the Cuscatlani Caudillo wanted to say "El Rey no soberrano"!

*** The Embassy

Sadly for Brytenian crew, nobody was coming to their help. 17CV "friends" inside police made sure that the call never reached those whom it had to reach. Police often covered 17CV actions for exchange of 17CV taking down criminals who were too entrenched in judicial system and for whom arrest would mean few days behind bars and small caution at most. Additionally Cuscatlan's gun laws were very relaxed, and a semi auto rifle was common thing in houses.

Sadly for the Brytenians, 17CV snipers were using not Parker Hale alone. The moment when they attempted to run towards the car, another two sniper pairs located in local hotel fired at them. Unlike previous one, that ones were made with Nihonese made 20x103mm Anti - materiel rifle. Fired form enormous bi pod, two huge bullets were sent straight at the car's engine when they attempted to enter it. There was no chance that Police special forces trained snipers would have missed. In mere seconds the little escape attempt would be foiled.

The hit into church's tower successfully killed the spotter, but was unable to kill the sniper himself who was at this moment at the stairway. And as the fire fight raged, some reinforcements were called in. 17CV Narcotank has just left an underground garage where 17CV hidden it before action and headed towards the street where the Brytenistic embassy staff was, passing through the turn and finding itself a approximately 700m from the car. It was however on the same straight line, going at them with full engine power, and with a 7.62x39mm PK light machine gun on it ready to quell any resistance it will encounter.

by **Brytene** » Fri May 29, 2015 11:35 pm

Outskirts of Dyflin, Brytene

"Glad to hear you're not quite as useless as your Cuscatlani colleagues" replied Catamount, her tone light "but apparently one of your 'pinko' Senators is under attack in our embassy, so I can't help feeling that this is trouble spilling over from your country."

She did not look back at them as she spoke this time, instead watching the road slowly roll by, waiting for the inevitable stream of vitriol that the mention of Senator Rodrigues would provoke.

Phone call

"Shut up, you saggy little ballsack." barked the King, far too long in the tooth to care about the political niceties demanded by those afraid of the truth "Are you aware that right now, some of your bloody terrorist militias are attacking my embassy, right in the heart of Santiago de Cuscatlan? Get troops down there and rescue my people, right fucking now, unless you want the world to think your police, your military, and your word are worth absolutely nothing"

Streets of Santiago de Cuscatlan

The Cuscatlani snipers were deadly accurate. The two rounds hit the front of the pickup, tearing into the engine and turning it into scrap, setting off a huge pillar of smoke. Sara screamed, then ducked beneath the windshield, whilst out of nowhere a truck AND a tank pulled out on the road ahead of them, slightly less than a kilometer away. Latrell was still streaming footage, and around the globe images of rogue tanks and snipers causing mayhem on the streets of the Cuscatlani capital were being watched in utter disbelief.

Latrell looked at her frightened aide, at the shocked Senator, and at the crying intern, and made a decision. She snatched the KA-P7 handgun from Daryl, holding it in her right hand and her SlatePad in the left, then forced the door open with her foot and stepped out.

Pointing it at the nearest militia, filming them too, she shouted loudly for the whole street to hear.

"I am Ambassador Latrell of Brytene, and these people are under my protection. I do not recognise your authority and you will have to go through me to get them."

Brystic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

Inside the embassy, Sergeant West heard the wife shouting but refused to reply - either she was with the enemy, or she wasn't. If she was, answering would put him in danger, and if she wasn't then answering would put her in danger. Instead, as he moved, he whispered into his radio.
"Three tangos down. Good luck Ambassador"

As flash grenades and the like started to rain through the ruined front door, West turned his back, sliding into the saferoom only a couple of feet away. He heard the bangs and crashes behind him, but of more concern were the footsteps in the alley in front of him. He raised his MARS just in time, as two militia came in through the back door.
He pulled his secondary trigger, activating his Tiger Underbarrel Shotgun, pumping a single round of 12-gauge with a narrow spread into the two men approximately 8m away, before firing blasts of automatic 5.56x45mm fire at them even as he saw them bring their own weapons up.

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Sat May 30, 2015 10:28 pm

Outskirts of Dyflin, Brytene

"I wouldn't quite call the Cuscatlani's useless... There is a method to their madness. But apparently you guys picked up another liar who got hot feet before his name got exposed by some more of J.P. Lancorda's leaked documents?" Melendez replied. The captain had made no indication of who was in the embassy, so their was no reason for either agent to suspect it was Senator Rodrigues she was referring to.

Brystic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

The two parcos coming in through the back caught the enemy soldier in their flashlights as the came through the door, the first of which squeezed hard on the trigger and sent a blast of 7.62x39mm bullets in the direction of his foe, before a wall of vicious flame knocked him back over his coverman, and sent them both falling out the back door.
Hearing gunshots, Commandante Galvan ducked into the shadow of a nearby building and continued towards the prize as the four men posted as back-up on the sides both converged on the back side. They came around the corner to see their charred comrades fall back from the door and a burst of fire finish them off. Each aimed his gun at the door and as soon as the obviously Bryton soldier came out into the open let him have it from both directions. The paramilitaries fired at an inward angle, which reduced their own cover but prevented cross-fire on their comrades - which was a bigger threat when it's a 4 on 1 fight with fully automatic weapons when firing on an opponent from two sides. Gunshots rang out on steady streams, each only briefly letting up to adjust fire as their masters did not give their opponent an ounce of quarter, muzzle flashes illuminating the shadows of the plants and walls as hot, steaming bullets rained to the ground.
Only when their clips were emptied did the parcos let up to reload, and then cautiously approached their victim...

After firing a few loose shots into the building, the six reinforcements came in through the front of the building. This time, two entered directly through the front door, while another two crashed in through ground-floor level windows, leaving two outside at the front as back-up. They moved through the house, and found the woman crawling on the floor as a burst of automatic fire came from the back of the building. Their quick instincts made them aware armed guard had apparently bust out the back, but a sudden stream of automatic gunfire allowed them time to follow him into the safe room, and aim their guns at what would be his back assuming he miraculously survived the ordeal.

On the streets behind the embassy the truck pulled forward and came to a quick stop right in front of the silver pick-up truck - who by the looks of its smoking engine and deflated back tire wouldn't require the blocking maneuver. The driver pulled out a pistol and held it out the window while the passenger moved around the back with his AKI-1 pointed at the truck.
From the side of the building, the two parcos reloaded their weapons and casually advanced into the center of the street as the ambassador stumbled out and pointed her gun and tablet at them. One man kept his FN-FAL aimed directly at the woman while his female comrade held her AKI-1 in one hand and used the other to wave into the camera and make a silly face before re-gripping her automatic rifle back in the other hand and pointing it at the ambassador. The two slowly sidestepped away from each other to create a larger distance from which she would have to engage one after the other.
Finally Commandante Galvan stepped forward with his own MP412 Rex revolver aimed at her shoulder carrying the firearm.

"Well then, Loiselle, it looks like we are at an impasse. I am Commandante Cristoph Galvan of the Coalicion Autodefense D'Inyursta - and I do not recognize your authority here, Gringa, and I fully plan to take back to Inyursta what is rightfully ours!" He said locking eyes with Ambassador Latrell. Galvan was no rookie shooter, in fact he had once been an air-calvaryman (heliborne infantry) in the army, and had since spent his days commanding hit-and-run attacks against drug cartel assets and Red Ocean hold-outs in the Southern Territories.

Elsewhere, his leiutenant Natalya Vasquez, an Inyurstana of half-Chzech descent, got on her pre-paid and disposable cell phone and gave the order to all of the remaining CADI paramilitaries to beging moving in and unloading their supplies into the embassy grounds.

ISD HQ, Castille de Terro

Captain Emilio Ramirez walked in bright and early the next morning, catching most of the night shift crew before they had left the building. He came in to see most of the office standing up and waiting for him, as he walked into the conference room they followed - several night shift staff staying late to catch the presentation and big reveal.
Director Sabarro stood at the front of the room, with the "intimate employee" sitting at the back chewing down on a warm sugar roll with guava sauce and the hero internet analyst sitting in the front.
"Okay everyone. Here is the situation:
At 9:21 Friday morning Loiselle Cowalskie walked into our Cyber Crimes and Identify Theft department alleging two scenarios which involved two of her shared accounts with the late fugitive senator were either hacked and emptied or else that the ISD or law enforcement had taken her "fair payment".
After discussing and cooperatively exchanging information with Ls. Cowalskie, the Gracio office was able to examine several accounts of Ls. Cowalskie. One shared account had been drained entirely, the other had its maximum withdraw limit taken out twice in a two-day period, while another was left untouched. Furthermore, Ls. Cowalskie's personal accounts and an account with an earlier client were left untouched.
At approximately 15:04 Agent Garcontté and his team effectively traced one of the I.P.'s behind the withdrawals to a source in a foreign nation. All national officials were then notified.
At the moment we have traced the I.P. transfer to two non-government contract agencies, and are currently working on decrypting the source of other withdrawals.
We still have to double-check our steps and source I.P.'s, but this lead is extremely promising..." He stated as the room clapped in a disciplined manor, before Director Sabarro dismissed them back to their duties

by **El Cuscatlan** » Mon Jun 01, 2015 8:51 am

Brytene wrote:"Shut up, you saggy little ballsack." barked the King, far too long in the tooth to care about the political niceties demanded by those afraid of the truth "Are you aware that right now, some of your bloody terrorist militias are attacking my embassy, right in the heart of Santiago de Cuscatlan? Get troops down there and rescue my people, right fucking now, unless you want the world to think your police, your military, and your word are worth absolutely nothing"

*** Silva' s office

Carlos Silva literally wanted to hit that man right now into his head. He, a king of small nation, was trying to tell him, a powerful Caudillo who restored his own nation to greatness, what he shall do. Of course General Silva was now angry.... he was really angry, and that was very rare. Man who literally seen countless people die and did not moved a single muscle then.... was now outside control of himself.

"Senhor" he spoke, with voice calm and unmoved "Everything is under control. Adios!"

He put his telephone down, in clear act of defiance of Brytic monarch. There was nothing they could do. Not a single thing. And he could do a lot..

OOC: Sorry for short post. Planned to add something, but I will post it in next one

.

by **Brytene** » Mon Jun 01, 2015 9:10 am

Telephone call

Cenwulf slammed the phone down. The arrogant little greaseball had just hung up on him, lying through his teeth. "Under control!" scoffed the King.

He picked up the phone again.

Cuscatlani Embassy, Lundene, Brytene

The Cuscatlani embassy, the only SACTO embassy in Lundene and counterpart to the only Brytisc embassy in any SACTO lands, the Santiago de Cuscatlan embassy, was a funny little building. Only two storeys high, it was the former site of a circle theatre, which had burned down unfortunately in the 1960's. It was now a circular edifice of limestone, looking like a replica of a medieval keep, but with faintly tinted panelled windows that looked in on a small if stylish office above and below, whilst a private suite on the top floor and a closed set of rooms on the ground floor offered a little privacy for the ambassador, his staff and his guards.

It was set in the centre of Merlyn's Square, a quaint little cobbled affair surrounded mostly with tourist gift shops and restaurants. It was early afternoon in Brytene and the hubbub of the crowds was unabated, even when a Stappa tank rolled along the large road to the south of the square. At the same time, police officers backed by a scattered platoon of marines appeared at the entrances to the three smaller cobbled streets which led off the square, effectively surrounding the area. The policemen started moving civilians away from the danger zone, back into buildings, whilst the marines took up aim at the exits and windows.

A marines colonel stepped forwards with a speakerphone.
"Ambassador, you will by now have received a phone call from the Rede. You are no longer welcome in Brytene and are to vacate the premises immediately. You have thirty minutes to gather your belongings. A truck is on hand to transport the personal and professional belongings of you and your staff. You will be escorted to Lundene Central Airport, where a flight has been chartered for you to return you to Gran Cuscatlan. Please confirm that you understand everything I have just said."

Outskirts of Dyflin, Brytene

"Seems like it," replied Catamount "apparently it's that Senator Rodrigues, one of your feared pinko monsters. Gods know he must be the first politician ever to bend his election promises, eh? Definitely worth torturing and murdering a man for."

She glanced back at her SlatePad, then tapped the driver on the shoulder. The vehicle pulled to a halt, as did the rest of the convoy. The doors popped open and were tugged wide by marines on either side of the vehicle, their faces stern. One man had his rifle aimed at the two in the back seat, and Catamount had drawn her service pistol on the unarmed agents. The other marines were also armed, but had not drawn their weapons.
"Ah, bad news guys. Looks like Claudillo Silva just made your lives a lot harder. You'll do us a favour and hand over any and all electronics before we handcuff you, there's good chaps."

Brystic State Embassy, Santiago de Cuscatlan

Sergeant West was finished. He had taken down the two terrorist militia, but they had got him good too. He had known that the moment the burst of 7.62mm punched through his body armour. At long ranges it might have afforded some protection, but a burst of fire from less than three feet away would cut through even the best armour like a spear through a paper door.

He staggered out into the alleyway, mumbling into his radio to report the latest kills, almost tripping over the bodies of the two dead terrorists, and he didn't even see the others coming until more rounds drilled into him, killing him instantly before he could offer any resistance and throwing him to the ground right next to the barely conscious Private Gordon.

Gordon's eyes flickered. He knew his friend was there, and he tried to call out, but it came out as nothing more than a croak. His right arm was broken and completely numb, and he had already handed away his sidearm, so he knew he only had one weapon left. He reached for his grenade, tugging the pin out with one loose hand, but he was too weak to tug it from his belt and even if he had managed that, his vision was dimming and he had no idea where to throw it. He slumped, barely even alive as the frag grenade went off right on top of him. The terrorists were probably safe from the explosion, being too far away, but Gordon's body practically disappeared in the explosion, which scorched brick and warped metal for several feet around.

The streets of Santiago de Cuscatlan

"I should have known," replied the ambassador, a look of contempt on her face "some racist little bandit from the arse-end of nowhere. It's 'Ambassador Gringa' to you, cockroach. Sergeant West reckoned he killed five of your bandit cockroaches before you finally brought him down, and now it takes an entire regiment of you to face down one Ambassador? You people are a joke." she spat, her tone contemptuous. It was evident she was a civilian, the gun waving slightly in her hand, but she was not backing down anytime soon.

Meanwhile, the silver pick-up offered little resistance. Daryl simply sat with his hands on his head in the passenger seat, whilst Sara screamed in her native Cuscatlani that she was just a local intern, she didn't know anything about this, that she hadn't even been working today, that she just lived across the street and so on, which was mostly true - she was 19 and studying English Literature at University whilst minoring in Drama, hardly the type to start an undercover partisan cell.

In the back, Senator Rodrigues sat with a numb expression.

by **Inyourfaceistan** » Mon Jun 01, 2015 1:49 pm

Outskirts of Dyflin, Brytene

Agent Tançias and Melendez looked at each other and began cracking up at the mention of Rodrigues' name. Melendez then continued his conversation with the captain.
"Ma'am, Senator Rodrigues has been in custody since they put a warrant out on his name. I have no idea who you let walk into that embassy but it sure as hell wasn't him..."

As the cares stopped and the Bryton soldiers opened the door, Agent Tançias and Melendez didn't move.
"You aren't going to do shit." Tançias began.
"You put those cuffs on us and you are going to have to kill us. You will have two more bodies on your hand and everyone with half a brain is going to see right through all the evidence you are either going to be forced to destroy or hide away.
You see, you aren't going to do shit because you all care what the world thinks. There is no scenario other than us getting on a plane with our evidence that you don't loose credibility in the eyes of the so-called "international community".

So please, if you want to kill us then you might as well do it know, because no matter what happens you are going to have to show your true colors to your fellow westerners and every post-colonial shmuck nations which have fallen under your delusion of being civilized...
Go ahead, do it and 'sink to our level', if you will."

Santigo de Cuscatlan

"Grénade!" One of the paramilitaries screamed as he jumped back, and his comrades hit the deck. The enemy hand grenade exploded in the back courtyard, sending more shrapnel and shockwave flying over their heads. However, other than the shell shock and inevitable confusion and ringing in their ears, only on parco caught a few pieces of metal in his shoulder.
Inside, the six reinforcements had cleared the building, and began waving in for Vasquez and her underlings to start the process of unloading and fortifying the building - in part to at least make it look like the Cuscatlani military and police would try to do anything about them.

In the streets outside the embassy the scene grew more tense. Another vehicle, this time a rusty black Land Rover Defender-1990 pulled up a few dozen meters away and two more armed men emerged, one pointing his FN FAL at the ambassador like the other four paramilitaries were, while the other moved around back to reinforce his comrade at the back of the pickup truck.
At the broken-down silver vehicle, the first parco on the scene had pistol-whipped the aide before tackling him to the ground and pressing his knee into the man. He then motioned for the local girl to beat it before the Cuscatlani police showed up and held her in association with this mess. As the second militant came around, he drew a pistol and handed it off to one of his comrades.

Galvan could tell she was a civilian, by both her handling of the gun and her lack of basic knowledge of assaulting any position. However he rolled his eyes that she had referred to him as 'racist', indicating she wasn't that bright in general.
"You act as if your insults mean anything to me, ginga. News flash: they don't. Now why don't you turn around and look at the man you were apparently about to give your life for..." The Commandante said as she heard the solid clicking of a bullet being chambered just behind her head.
"Drop the weapon." A stern, but familiar voice behind the weapon demanded.

Behind her was standing the man who claimed he was the senator, pointing a Brazilian-made Taurus PT24/7 .45 ACP right at her head. The man was really named Leonce de Jérendé - a.k.a. Leonce the Leopard - and he was another of Galvan's lieutenants, who was behind several assassinations of drug cartel associates, both at home and abroad.
In a sick sense of poetic justice, the Brytons had received just what they asked for: a wanted Inyurstan liar. They wanted to harbor someone who could lie to their face about who they were and what they were planning, a criminal evading justice who didn't care for those he had screwed over, and that is just what had wandered into their embassy...
Sweet, sweet irony...

by **Brytene** » Wed Jun 03, 2015 1:20 am

Outskirts of Dyflin, Brytene

Catamount's eyes widened momentarily. She turned back to the SlatePad, checking the file. Meanwhile the guards dragged the two men out of the car as they began their lengthy speech about how Brytene was doomed and Catamount had no options left.
"Alright Underwood, calm down," snapped one of the guards, as the marines stripped them of everything except their shirts, pants, and socks before handcuffing them. One of the marines disappeared, rummaging around in the car until he came back with a small metal scanner, just in case.

Just as they were done, Catamount burst out laughing. She turned, half-leaning on the side of the car, and explained breathlessly, still chuckling.
"You idiots, you absolute idiots. Immigration just confirmed - the passport this clown turned up with came up as valid on the system, and the RFID was genuine. Now, given that you reckon you have Rodrigues in custody, that means that the only people who could have access to his passport, or else make one that came up as valid according to the Inyurstan database, well...you figure it out."
She caught her breath, exhaled deeply, and passed a hand over her face dramatically, like an actress regaining her composure.
"Right then, you silly sods. I am officially arresting you for tampering with official evidence and for your connection with the Inyurstan Secret Service. Anything you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to remain silent."

Santigo de Cuscatlan

Sara took the chance and ran, disappearing into the courtyard of the apartment block. Daryl did not resist; he was just a civilian, a pencil-pusher.

The Ambassador, however, still had her gun, and she did not move. She was torn - on the one hand, her instinct was to lay down her arms and give in. Surely anything was better than death. But then again, these gutter filth had shown the world over and over again just how violent, how barbaric, how brutal they were willing to be. Murders, stabbings, blood and gore seeped from their very skin, and she wasn't sure that being captured alive by them was anything other than a fate worse than death.

Ironically, their vaunted brutality and campaign of terror was the very thing preventing her from putting down her pistol.
A voice came from her SlatePad.
"Ms Latrell, put down the gun," advised a hushed voice at the other end of the line "We have bargaining power, we can get you back safely. Just put down the weapon."
The gun faltered in her grip, and she lowered it slightly. There was no-one to protect anymore, just another Inyurstan snake behind her and a cockroach in front. She clutched the SlatePad more tightly.
"It seems you have me at a disadvantage, Commandante" she replied, her voice low and wavering. Looking down at the ground, then glancing all around her at the paramilitaries, she seemed to come to a decision.

Her grip tensed again. "GLADLY INTO THE STORM!" she shouted, her voice high and shrill as she pumped the trigger of the KA-P7 handgun clutched in her untrained hands, sending several 5.52mm rounds at the Commandante who was barely five meters away.

Inyurstan Whistle Blower Crisis! [MT][Open]

The storm begins

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