The Game of Powers (Coup in Maharao|MT/IC/CLOSED)

[El Cuscatlan]

OOC

Cuscatlani embassy was strange place. Officially serving as place of diplomacy, it was in reality biggest spy nest in this part of the county. From here, regularly reports of any activity in whole Maharao were coming, being checked by DINA - Dirección de Intelligencia Nacional, which maintained here it's spies. Spies checked everything and were everywhere. Their watchful eyes ran around every secret that government of Maharao was hiding. But now, something happened. DINA resident in this embassy got an encrypted message that somebody important has to arrive to meet with him. He was awaiting him at 2nd floor of the embassy, looking below. Streets of this neo-tropical nation were once beautiful; this time, thanks to failing economy, they became much more ugly. Joao Diaz Rocha looked again below, as something stopped in front of the embassy, and an old man stepped outside it. He was tall, well built, but in his eyes there was something cunning and something familiar at the same time. Rocha looked as he entered the embassy. Moments later he was called into room in the basements, where every spy was meeting. When he entered, man changed a lot. His beard was now hanging on the wall, his eyes were much more wide.... this man was really master of disguise. His name was Colonel Ricardo Madison, one of most famous DINA agents. If he was here, it was a big affair. After the men saluted each other, the man smiled:

"Rest mi amigo" his smile became visible "Burn this documents after you finish reading it. This is your new OPORD. In short, from WARNO you received, you should know the details, yes?"

"Yes sir" said with service - characteristic face Joao "We are to search for possible candidates to overthrow the government of Marahao. Is this confirmed?"

"Si" said Madison as he took a bit of smoke "Our operation is about to begin. Remember, secrecy first. See what screams among the grass, but do not reveal what do we plan. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir!" said Rocha, looking into his eyes.

"Affirmative. Dismissed!" said Colonel Ricardo as Joao left.

---

The spy network was activated quickly after. One of the spies, Xuan Torres was now reading the gazette. First, he was an officially local businessman, but in fact that was the status DINA gave him, using his connections in the business world to conduct economic espionage and sabotage the economy. He turned around while sitting near the table, and thought. It was a long time since PSL paramilitary killed his girlfriend by "accident". Now, he will avenge himself and ensure those bastards will go down.

Slowly, he read what note was sent to him. He burned it afterwards. A regime change? Seemed legit for a man like him, who hated the current government a lot. He slowly walked down, and left his house. Time to smell a bit among his contacts in the city. Many people here were on his payroll, as he ensured that they supported him in exchange for little amount of money.

Now, he was going to search among them for people who will help him in the operation.....

[Guadalupador]

1855 Hours: Sao Carlos, Maharao. (29/11/2014)

"PSL OUT! PSL OUT! VIVA RAMOS!" A large crowd of civilians marched down the main avenue in the capital of Maharao, Sao Carlos. One thousand strong, they watched for any police presence in the area, fearing repercussions by law enforcement if anything got too crazy. In front, their leader guided their march with a spring in his step. Fulgencio Ramos-Salvador, the former mayor of the city of Yepes, led his young demonstrators towards the Parliament. Fulgencio was an older gentleman, in his late-fifties, with a powerful booming voice, that could catch the attention of bystanders and energize his followers. He marched with determination towards the Parliament, chanting along with his fellow demonstrators as they reached Xuan Carlos Square, the gates of Parliament only a few meters away. The march stopped, but Fulgencio continued walking towards a small wooden podium that was set up by two other demonstrators only minutes before. He stood before his supporters, raising his hands to quiet the crowd down. As soon as silence fell, he began to speak: "Brothers and Sisters of Maharao! We were promised by the government to live in a free society? But what has this current administration wrought?" He paused for a second so that the crowd could answer him.

"SLAVERY!" The demonstrators yelled back.

"Our government has betrayed us! Has forsaken us! It has attempted to take away the things we hold most dear! What is next? Will they take our lives?!"

"NO!!!"

Fulgencio smiled as he heard the response from the crowd. "I declare that this current government under the Partido Social e Liberal is obsolete, and it must be replaced! The people of Maharao want to speak and be heard! We want to oppose the government, to say to them, 'We won't take this anymore!' For Maharao! For Freedom, and Peace!" Fulgencio finished, to the thunderous applause of his demonstrators, cheering his courage to take a public stand against the government. He walked into the crowd, and was immediately embraced by them, he chatted with a few demonstrators before being hurried back to his car by his bodyguards to his hotel. As he was in his car, he read the newspaper. "Artur Valencio is back in the news again, it seems." Fulgencio said to his wife, Marta, sitting beside him in the car. "He's planning a march in Rio Palmas... That's our next stop, we're going to meet his people there, and counter-protest them." He planned.

"That doesn't seem like a good idea, it could get ugly." Marta said.

"I personally know Artur. I know that he'll keep his people in line, if I keep my people in line. He's an honorable man." Fulgencio said as he got out of the car, and walked through the lobby of the hotel, flanked by his bodyguards.

[Inyourfaceistan]

Serinidade, Maharao

---

A dusty, and well-worn black SUV pulled up to the gate of the compound at the crest of the small Maharoan village. The armed men in black scarves, sunglasses and cowboy hats gestured the vehicle up the gravel driveway and towards the main building.
Its passengers got out, a few of them also armed with AK-74's and double-barrel shotguns, one of whom was wearing a white beret and desert camouflage BDU's.

The elusive leader of Fronte Contrarevolucao a.k.a. "A Fronte", Diego Lima, was sitting by a small pool reading "L'Ilucion Rouje" (The Red Illusion) by none other than Inyurstan Contre-Revolutionaire International Pierre De'Calero. His eyes hoped from page to page, absorbing more and more useful arguments to liken social democratic economic policies with fascist and socialist dictatorships and liken their ideological notions of "society before individual" into one terrifying strawman. He looked up to see one of his lieutenants, Pedro dos Santos, walking in.
"Ahh! Pedro! It has been a long time, my friend!"
"It has. I assume the desert remains as hospitable to you as it does the foxes and scorpions?"
"Haha! You know the case. People know, of course. But they are quiet. The cops here crooked, easily paid off; the villagers untrusting of outsiders, easily convinced."
"So why have you summoned me to this neck of the woods - or lack thereof?"
"Simple. I'm thinking of brining in foreign support, and I want your scouts to be the first to receive aid."
"Foreign? Do you mean...
The original counter-revolutionaries?"
"Yes. Assuming, of course, they oblige me. But then again why would they not?"
"So what do you need me to do?"
"Travel to Sao Carlos. Go to the Cuscatlani embassy. Tell them you want to meet with Inyurstan officials. They should be more than willing to set you up..."
"It will be my honor! Thank you, sir."
"Of course. Now go, the PSL grows less popular by the day. The time for our offensive shall be soon."

[Aigeantir]

Office of the Maharao Armed Forces,
Xuan Rodrigues da Gama Pavillion,
Sao Carlos, Maharao,
29/11/2014
19:30

General Rodrigo Ortega had just finished a grueling 3-hour meeting, that started much later than planned. The meeting itself was very dry and inconsequential. Military expenditures, revising of training protocols, and a presentation by one of the colonels of a new recruiting scheme for the navy. Unfortunately, Ortega's job was far from over. He was handed off a message during the meeting about the protests in the streets, this time here in Sao Carlos. Once again this Ramos-Salvador character was stirring up problems, and once again the man disappeared before the armed forces or even the PSL Paramilitary Police could react. There was yet to be a determinable pattern to his protests, which meant being there to shut him down a problem.

Ortega knew that this was a fine line, a grey zone, between his duties and that of the police. In all fairness he should leave Ramos-Salvador to the police, but incarceration by the military was likely a softer punishment than anything the PSL Paramilitaries might cook up. Unfortunately, as the economy slid, more and more problems like Ramos-Salvador were appearing everyday. While Ortega had been content to let the Paramilitary sort it out, he had begun to have his own concerns about their position in recent weeks, and how it may or may not affect him. Ortega was a simple man, his duty was first and foremost to himself. While the military enjoyed the benefit of the good graces of the PSL, it was through the corruption and bribes that the government gave Ortega and his men that really kept their allegiance to the current regime. Ortega was a career officer, he did believe in duty and honour, but he also believed in enjoying life, especially when there was no reason to disrupt the status quo. Under the PSL, he had come to enjoy his lifestyle; expensive dinners, fast cars, pricey hookers, and all the alcohol he could drink, which was a lot considering that Ortega was an in denial alcoholic.

Of course, over the years there had been a few that had attempted to discredit his and other officers' leadership, and if they were within the civilian sphere, they were often silenced by the paramilitary. If they were one of his own, in his ranks, they often found themselves scrubbed out for unspecified reasons, and so Ortega had kept the status quo running as long as he could. Unfortunately that all changed 6 months ago, when Colonel Esther Tos entered his life and became a grating nuisance. Tos was a smart and aware officer, who followed the rules as if she was still in basic training. She didn't drink, smoke, take drugs, and kept her private life very private. It was impossible to get dirt on her as she was very clean. Worse still, she was a bit of a "hero" if you could call someone a hero for being the eldest daughter of one of the much-loved generals before the PSL. The people loved her, the recruits loved her, and the younger officers loved her, but Ortega hated her as she was a threat to his way of life. The life he had come to enjoy and love. Unfortunately even with Ortega's attempts to prevent Tos from advancing, he was forced to promote her to prevent any calls of gender inequality within the military, which could be much worse than having Tos nosing around his business. He had tried to find ways to dirty her image. He had used one of his more dim-witted, but handsome colonels as bait for a fraternization charge, but the idiot put the moves on her before properly drugging her, and instead found himself dismissed, and Tos taking his place.

With his mind constantly on the internal structure of the military, and putting out fires before they started, Ortega had forgotten to check his six, and that was when he had realized that the paramilitary police could be a potential problem. They had their fingers in everybody's pie, and he didn't doubt that they had their hands in his military. Maybe Tos was one of their own, working to bring him down. Either way, he didn't like the way that the paramilitary did what his own forces could easily do, but the PSL didn't trust his army. The feeling was mutual, but Ortega preferred to accept the bribes than oust the government just because the PSL employed a secret police force.

The protests didn't help either. Probably some commie bullshit. As a Northerner, Ortega had a great respect for the PSL, as they had brought some progress and prosperity to the nation, but these protests were becoming a problem and he felt that he had to do something about it. The best case scenario, the PSL would honour him as the man who maintained the peace in Maharao, the worst is that he could be told that it wasn't his jurisdiction and to get back in line. He picked up the phone in his office, contacting one of the staff sergeants. "Yes, this is Ortega, I'd like you to relay a message to intelligence. Please tell them that I would like to make use of anything they have on the protesters. I'd like any messages, or information that could determine where they might be protesting next."

"Sir, is there anything else you want me to ask them?" The sergeant inquired.

"No, it's better we don't involve them too much in our own affairs," Ortega replied. He didn't say it to the sergeant, but he also wanted to minimize having to share the credit in keeping the peace. Now all he needed was a schedule, and he could have snipers positioned ahead of time to deal with this Ramos-Salvador, with blockades to make sure none of the protesters escaped. Yes, he thought, I'll have Ramos-Salvador's head, his followers will be imprisoned, and PSL might even begin to show some favoritism to their oldest allied fighting force. Feeling pleased with himself, he took out some of the better rum he had hidden away to prevent having to share it with any of his fellow officers, poured himself a tumbler, and lit a cigar. Life was good!

[Congreveopia]

The rain had stopped, but the streets were still wet. One car traversed the lonely back-alleys, its headlights providing the only illumination, far away from the streetlamps of the inner-city. The car stopped by a small bar. A neon sign hung in the window spelled out “Beer in here.” It flickered a few times, two of the letters missing. The windows were shuttered. Two men stepped out of the back of the car, their topcoats doing a fairly good job of concealing the AK-74s they were carrying. They looked around the street and saw nothing. One of them gave a signal, and then a man stepped out of the front passenger seat. He quickly walked across the street into the bar, ignoring the sign on the door saying it was closed. His guards followed.

The inside of the building was dark. A lone light hung behind the bar where the bartender was cleaning glasses.

“We’re closed.” he said “Come back tomorrow.”

“Someone told me to try the house specialty.” said the man.

“I’m out of lemons.” said the bartender “Come back tomorrow.”

“Try it with lime and orange.” said the man “I’m in an experimenting mood.”

“You’re the last to arrive.” said the bartender “Everyone else is waiting downstairs.”

The man walked down to the basement. He saw a door marked “janitorial supplies” and opened it. Behind it was a steel bullet-resistant door. He knocked.

“I was looking for the leather goods section.” he said “But I think I got lost in the toys department.”

The door opened. Inside was a spacious room. Fluorescent lights in the ceiling lit it, but the fireplace on one wall provided a nice glow. More guards in topcoats stood around. In one corner, a man sat by a large radio. In another were modern office utilities: a copier, various office supplies and such. The walls were decorated with propaganda posters and news reports, and in the center was a table where the leaders of the Communist movement sat. The man took a seat with them.

He was Marcos Ferreira. No man could rival his dedication to the cause, except their great teacher himself. He was by far the most accomplished of the group, but also the most dangerous. He believed that all citizens of Maharao should be honored to give their lives for the cause. With this belief he had masterminded the group’s greatest attacks. And their deadliest. He knew in his heart that the corporations owned the government and all must fall before Communism could rise.

To his left sat Tomas Vera. More moderate, he would not deny that the corporations held substantial sway over the government. However, he believed that the government was still trying to be good. It was just hard. He knew the citizens supported his war, but he would not force them to lay down their lives for it.

To Marcos’s right was David Morales. Some questioned his dedication, but he knew that he was true to the cause. He simply had compassion too. He hated the corporations as much as anyone else at the table, but he didn’t think their supporters and employees were evil. They were only misinformed. Time would enact the change to Communism. His job was to reign in the others so that not too many died before them.

Then there was Sergio Mendoza. The great teacher. Unlike the others at the table, he was old, nearing the end of his life. He had brought in every person at the table, taught and trained them. There would have been no Communist movement without him, and yet he may never live to see the day that his work came to fruition.

Finally, there was Lucas Vinicius. The youngest at the table, both in age and time in the movement, he was distrusted by some and feared by others. He was charismatic and bold, a godsend to the group. As a masterful public speaker, he would make an excellent face for the group. If only the others could keep his ambition in check.

“It appears that we’re all here.” said Tomas “Let’s begin.”

“Well…” said David “Our biggest fear right now is the economy recovering so totally that international businesses will return in force and drain it again.”

“Yes!” said Marcos “And to do that we need a show of force! If we clean out the largest pests now, larger ones will not dare to try and enter. We need to strike fast and hard against the corporations that are already here to send a message to the world.”

“Animals won’t leave a corpse to rot because they see nothing is eating from it.” said Tomas “Their absence will just create a vacuum that others will fill. We need to change policy to fix this. Destroying the corporations that exist today is cutting heads off the Hydra.”

“Then cauterize the stumps.” said Marcos “We don’t just destroy them. We annihilate them so thoroughly that they will never return.”

“But we don’t need to kill to achieve that.” said David “A person dead is rotting meat. A person turned is a soldier for our side. If everyone hates the corporations, the government will simply do away with them.”

“We can’t trust the government.” said Sergio “They have allowed abominations. If they won’t lift a finger to stop homosexual relationships, how can we think that they will fight the corporations?”

An awkward silence passed through the room. They respected their teacher, but he was old, and his views could not change fast enough to fit the new world. Hopefully, he would peacefully reach his end before they needed to take action.

“David is right.” said Lucas “We are weak and powerless.”

The others turned to him, startled. Nobody had even raised the question of their power. All would soon support them.

“Wake up!” said Lucas “See the world clearly! You talk of great feats; destroying the corporations! Banning international business! But we don’t have the power to do either! We need more people to believe in us! If we play our cards too early, we will be seen as monsters, not heros! Marcos, do none of the people you plan to kill have families or friends? What will they think when we choose to sacrifice their lives for the cause? Sacrifice is necessary, but the people must offer it, we cannot thrust it upon them! We must gain power. Then we can deal with the corporations.”

[McNernia]

National Police Headquarters

"You know Commissioner, you don't have to do this."

The Commissioner of the National Gendarmery sat with his feet up on the windowsill looking down at the street below. His was a terrible job. Well it had been his life's work, service to his duke and to his country. Francisco Carreira was a veteran cop, he had hated ordering his troops to engage in the securing of civilian guns in secured areas. Of course then well to axe his budgets from the big operations like gun seizures....the PSL was a corrupt lot. Grafting off his budget for parties and poorly managed welfare.

"I will do this so that our country can be free."

A note was delivered by a Gendarme on guard outside the Cuscatlani embassy.

I would like to meet someone on your staff who may have the capacity to help me deal with...a certain problem.

-F.Carreria

[El Cuscatlan]

SCENE: Cuscatlani embassy

When the day has set, nothing indicated a change in overall situation. Then, one of the embassy staff received a not from Gendarmerie member around. He looked at it, and quickly gave it to colonel Ricardo Madison, who read it again, then he quickly assembled all the intelligence commanders in the underground room, which was previously checked by DINA operatives. Now, once it was all prepared, he spoke:

"Thoughts" his voice was concerned. He suspected it may be true, and Police commander indeed wants to help them.

"It may be a trap" spoke Joao Rocha, looking at his watch nervously "They may try to set us up."

"I doubt it" spoke another voice. It belonged to Captain Miguel Rojas. Rojas was short, a bit overweight man, who seemed not belonging to the intelligence. But in fact he maintained this look to confuse people "I have been observing Carreira for a long time. He... let's put it that way, does not like government. It is possible he is planing a coup, and went to us for help."

"Affirmative" spoke General Madison "We will observe him. For now, send him a note, but do it carefully."

---

When Carreira was in his home, suddenly his door bell rang. In front of him was standing a postman, holding a letter. Nobody knew that this was no postman, but DINA agent under cover, who had to deliver him a message from DINA. The postman gave him the letter and spoke to him quietly:

"Open alone" he said before leaving. He made no suspicious moves, so nobody will recognize him.

Code: Select all

We are willing to help you with your problem. Whatever it is - Dinah.


[Inyourfaceistan]

Sao Marinho, Maharao

---

A short man in a baseball cap walked through the crowd at the mall. Other than the determined look on his face and the fact he wore sunglasses indoors, he was indistinguishable from the other shoppers. He was armed only with a revolver, three rounds chambered with blank ammunition, another six in his pocket for self-defense when the job was done.
He casually shifted through the mall, pretending to look interested in what the cheap outlets had to offer. After reaching down to tie his shoes, both of which were without need for the action, he slowly raised himself, and pulled a nearby fire alarm.
The bell came on as water began to shower down over the shoppers, who began a panicked rush out the door - a push which the unnamed saboteur rode out like a surfer. As the crowds poured into the parking lot away from the building he whipped out his pistol and fired three blanks into the air, before taking a loose chuck of asphalt lying prone in a pothole and tossing at full force into the windshield of a car, causing the vehicle's alarm to go off amid the chaos as the assailant ran away into the urban sprawl beyond.

The next attack, which was scheduled to go off no less than ten minutes following the mall calamity, would occur on the outskirts of town. A rusty, light-blue pick-up with a man and a woman up front, and four men in the back rolled off the two-lane highway and into a gas station. Nobody in the vehicle made any attempt to hide that they were A Fronte rebels, and were packing shotguns, rifles and two AK-74's in broad daylight beneath the cowboy hats, mirrored sunglasses and olive-green bandanas covering their faces.
This gas station was no longer a privately owned establishment controlled by hard-working Maharoans; now it was part of a PSL-run nationalized industrial neo-Soviet regime. What was once a legitimate private establishment was now PSL oil, PSL profits, and now it would burn...
Two gunshots rang out as the truck pulled into the gas station parking lot; with the woman screaming orders for the patrons to get the fuck out immediately as her four comrades in the back jumped over the edge, two escorting her inside while one stood watch, the last taking a gasoline pump and spraying the flammable liquid all over the ground beside the pumps. More terrified and confused patrons came running out as another gunshot echoed from inside. The three rebels quickly tossed a few loose food items into their backpacks as the female insurgent made sure to trigger every alarm possible.
After no more than three minutes the armed individuals clambered back into their truck as the last man over the rails lit a Molotov cocktail and lobbed it onto the gasoline pool. Orange and red flames supported by the black silhouettes of gaseous soot quickly licked up around the gasoline tanks as the car pulled out. They didn't make their getaway immediately, rather waiting for the first responding squad car of the Sao Marinho PD to show up - an unfortunate venture by the unsuspecting cop whose windshield was immediately and unexpectedly pelted by a burst of automatic fire and buckshots causing the car to loose control and slide into a ditch, the engine block smoking as the driver didn't emerge from the vehicle due to a number of reasons...
Then the truck began to attempt and make it away down the highway, leaving a pluming gasoline fire and bullet-ridden cop car in their wake...

[Congreveopia]

National Police Headquarters:

A fairly expensive SUV pulled up outside the headquarters of the National Police. Four men were seated in it, three of them wearing topcoats and sunglasses. The fourth was Lucas Vinicius, who sat in a rear passenger seat wearing a normal suit and holding a tablet in one hand. He stepped out into the sunny day, and glanced back at the car as it drove away. he then strolled confidently up to the building and into the lobby. He walked over to the receptionist.

“Hello.” he said “I am Mr. Vinicius. I have no appointment, and yet would like to be talking with the Commissioner in the next five minutes. If your agency will so oblige me, I can give information that will lead to your most successful raid in years.”

[Guadalupador]

1100 Hours: Norigos, Maharao (30/11/2014)

Artur Valencio lit a cigarette as he watched a CCTV feed of a large crowd of his supporters, eagerly waiting for him to take the stage and speak. Valencio, a former city council member of Sao Carlos, is considered by many in the PSL, as the best candidate for the Presidency of Maharao, his young face hiding years worth of political experience. Valencio was up in three minutes, he knew the deal, go out speak a few words on how the government is doing a great job, and then leave. He became accustomed to the whole thing, but getting used to it, didn't mean that he liked what he was doing. He wasn't a direct talking head for the government, even he had some grievances with how the PSL handled things, not as much as Ramos-Salvador, but they were there.

"You're up, Mister Valencio." His adviser said, opening up the door to the stage.

Artur nodded, and walked out the door and onto the stage, with a large grin across his face as he could see his supporters cheer him on as he reached his podium. "Thank you, thank you. You're all too kind." Artur said, calming the crowd down. "I am proud to be here today! Do you all know why I am?" He asked rhetorically. "The fine people here in Norigos, you all, are why I'm here. This city is a great example of all the achievements that the PSL has done over the last few years! Just a few years ago, Norigos was just a simple fishing village along the coast up in Northern Maharao, barely scraping by, the people were starving, and poor on account of the Archduke's tyrrany. But when the PSL finally took control, we've turned that little fishing village into the premier vacation hotspot for all of Maharao! Unemployment in this city was reduced to zero as every one of you here has a stable job, and a good pay! This city grew exponentially within only seven years, and this economic growth is now known as the Norigos Miracle. What do you all think of that?!" Artur asked the crowd.

The crowd went wild in response to the question. Obviously in approval of all the good things that the government allegedly achieved.

Artur smiled, and then continued. "Now I know that there are some in this country, that have problems with our current government..." He waited for the crowd booing in opposition to Fulgencio Ramos-Salvador to subside before he continued speaking: "Forgive these people, they just don't see how the government is achieving such things, when it's obviously right in front of their eyes!" Artur threw his hands to his sides, drawing the crowd's attention to the city around them. "We are doing great things, not just here, but around the entire country!" He stated as the crowd cheered. "Thank you very much, and May God Bless Maharao!" Artur said as he walked off-stage. As soon as he was off-stage he was greeted by his adviser. "How do you think I did out there?" He asked, with a smirk.

"You were amazing! Can't you still hear them? They want more of this stuff!" His adviser said, as they walked towards a small tent, housing a water cooler.

"I can't stay here, remember? I've got to head over towards Rio Palmas, that's where I'm going to announce my candidacy for President." Artur reminded his adviser.

"Right... But I don't see why you're announcing that now? Since the elections are nearly three years away?"

"Better to get a head start, plus with the current state of this country, the people need a leader to look up to, preferably one of their own." Valencio said as he sipped his cup of water.

[Aigeantir]

el Escorpión Dorado Restaurant,
Sao Carlos, Maharao,
04/12/2014
20:00

Colonel Esther Tos sat at a table at el Escorpión Dorado Restaurant, not far from the base, but far enough away from the watchful eyes of her superior officers. Having traded her uniform for more inconspicuous civilian clothes, Tos was confident enough to conduct business in this way in an effort to avoid the brick walls that she often got from the military. Now she was meeting with a man who oversaw some of the messages coming and going from the base. Her interest was in what her superior officer, General Ortega, was up to. This wasn't the first time she had met with this contact, and once again she used her own tactics to throw the man off balance. The man's name was Juan Olmos, and she had deliberately contacted him after much research for two reasons. The first being that he had a bad habit of talking, which made getting sensitive information easier, and the second being his weakness for women. The first time she tried this, it was more of an experiment to see whether women within the armed forces were invisible to their male peers. In a sense she was proven right when Olmos, who had seen her on more than one occasion on the base, failed to recognize her out of uniform. That time she wore a low-cut dress, much like the one that she was wearing now, and it worked well, as it seemed like Olmos was too busy avoiding looking at her chest, that he never looked at her face. Now as she waited, having already ordered her drink, she began to wonder if Olmos had been found out. The man was habitually late, but never an hour late.

Suddenly she saw Olmos hurrying up to the patio, making a half-hearted effort to look discreet as he sat down at her table. Tos said nothing, using the polarized sunglasses she wore and a straight face to keep Olmos on edge around her. "Sorry I'm late, I had trouble getting away tonight." Tos continued to stare blankly at Olmos. "Well, you might find this interesting, apparently we're planning some sort of action against that Fulgencio Ramos-Salvador character... but you didn't hear it from me."

"When's this happening?" Tos questioned.

"Whenever we get the intel, and manage to set up at the right place at the right time," Olmos replied.

"What about Fronte Contrarevolucao? Is no action being taken against them?" Tos asked.

"Not that I know of. Ortega seems pretty interested in this Ramos-Salvador to care about Fronte Contrarevolucao. He says that getting rid of Ramos-Salvador will help him politically," Olmos explained.

"Thank you Juan, that's all I need from you tonight," Tos said in a dismissive way. Olmos looked at her, as if he was going to ask her a question, but sensing her body language, he thought better of it, and left. Tos watched him leave, continuing to remain in character. The man was was talkative, naive, gullible, yet still was suspicious, and had asked on many occasion in the most subtle of ways whether she worked for intelligence or the paramilitary. She always remained silent when he asked these questions, using her silence as a powerful tool to scare Olmos into seeing her as someone who had potentially a high position in the government or intelligence administration. As he walked away she stayed in character, always looking off towards something invisible in the distance, and staying silent, wearing a neutral face. After Olmos had left, she frowned. Ortega is planning to go after Ramos-Salvador, and not Fronte Contrarevolucao? That was either the biggest blunder or most sinsiter move on Ortega's part. Problems had been bottling up for a while. Fronte Contrarevolucao was really the problem in the most visible and tangible way. Just a few days ago they had destroyed a gas station and shot at a police cruiser, though it was now known that this was just meant as a distraction to allow them to pull off the incident at the mall. Tos had no idea whether PSL was purposely keeping the military out of it, or if Fronte Contrarevolucao was paying the military off. Either way, it was looking like the country was heading towards civil war. What disgusted Tos even more was that Ortega would actually go after a civilian, the people who he swore to protect for whatever selfish reason he concocted over stopping a truly dangerous terrorist group.

Tos would have to keep an eye on this development, if things continued going the way they did she and the others might be forced to move ahead of schedule in order to gain control, and hopefully bring back some honour to the military.

[McNernia]

The commissioner that night looked over the letter and then the man wrote a response to be delivered by his driver when he returned to work the next day to the Embassy.

Code: Select all

My Problem is the moronic bureaucrats in the country who are causing problems for the operational capacity of the Police.
-Commissioner

The Commissioner appeared behind the foreigner barking orders into his cell phone in Portugese to get those terrorists. He looked at the man. "I hope it has something to do with the recent gas station affair Senhor."

[Inyourfaceistan]

Sao Marinho

---

Bruno Silveira, a seemingly average looking Marahoan watched as four police cruisers raced down the busy street just a block from the state-owned bank from beneath his sunglasses and baseball cap. As soon as the law enforcement vehicles passed, he turned to a back alley and motioned for a large eighteen-wheeler to pull out. Car horns honked and tires swerved as the vehicle came wrecklessly crashing into the street lamp on the opposite side of the road, blocking all four lanes of the busy street.
He watched as the traffic jam formed almost instantly, and the line of cars piling up slowly stacked beyond his vision. Bruno then reached into the passenger side door and pulled out an Ak-74 as another man wielding an Uzi came around from the driver's seat and both quickly jogged on foot to the bank two meet up with two comrades on a motor bike who were also wielding Uzis came from the opposite side of the building as onlookers quickly moved out of the way of the armed men.

Once inside, the four men quickly announced their presence by shooting the first security guard through the glass window that separated the entrance from the lobby.
They screamed in Portuguese, ordering everyone to the floor and telling the remaining guards to drop their weapons if they want to live. Bruno then walked straight up to the teller and pointed his automatic weapon in the face of one of the tellers ordering them to give up their money, while two of his comrades kept everyone pinned and the forth began collecting cash from the terrified workers.



However, Bruno then did something shocking. He slung his Kalashnikov around his shoulder and began asking people how much they had in the bank, and how much they had paid in taxes in the last year. He then ordered his associate to begin handing out money back to the patrons based on how much they said. Once all in bank, including the disarmed security guards - who's guns had been taken by A Fronte gunmen - had been given their earnings back, and a large sum of cash still remained for the insurgent perpetrators; the four ran out the door.

While they were inside, two more motorbikes had shown up, and Bruno quickly commandeered one, forcing the female driver to carry the money and ride on his back, as all six rebels sped off in different directions, occasionally tossing wads of cash at bystanding civilians as they shouted counter-revolutionary chants of freedom and usurpation against the PSL.
Between the two distractions, the traffic jam, and the fact the motorbikes had better maneuverability and could fit into tight spaces which squad cars could not; a clean getaway was almost certain. The Sao Marinho PD likely had motorbikes of their own, but the responding vehicles were probably a few miles away at the station and far too late to chase down the escaping perpetrators who had split off and disappeared into the dense favelas and tourist-laden beachfront streets...

---

Cuscatlani Embassy, Sao Carlos

---

Pedro dos Santos stepped out of the black SUV and walked towards the gate as the vehicle behind him scurried away before any Marahoan authorities made the connection on who he was. Fortunately he was in the Sao Carlos metropolis, unlike the southern jungle and agricultural provinces his face was not on a "wanted" poster taped to every crosswalk and telephone booth.
He stepped up to the gate and held his hands in the air.
"My name is Pedro dos Santos. I am a wanted counter-revolutionary commander and I am here to apply for political asylum."

[McNernia]

The Police response to this bank robbery a wanton and stupid thing was quite effecient, there were police on secene, the people seemed to be a bit happy. The Commissioner himself came to the secne his Nissan Pathfinder driven by his bodyguard and number two man. The Detectives would be interviewing the people, the business of the returning of the cash was left by the wayside. To the Commissioner standing and talking to reporters.

As of this moment the business at hand is to examine the situation, rest well assured good citizens of Maraho that the perpetrators of the crimes you have seen here to-day shall not go unpunished.

I will be handling this personally. Thank you that will be all.

The Commissioner retreated to the command center bus that had been brought up, he was not in the mood for this shit. He could sympathize with the potential actions of the robbers. He was a servant of the state though. What ever form that state took the man felt bound to obey. The cameras showed the confirmation for the detectives. An APB was put out for the man who had done the deed. Then it came back from the guards at the embassy.

Code: Select all

Target is in the Embassy, REPEAT, In Embassy

The Commissioner was present as the SWAT vehicles rolled towards the Cuscatlani Embassy. Two assault teams armored and armed with G36C rifles and MP7 SMGs of 20 men each. Snipers were posted on other buildings boasting M110s. Spotters began taking note. Sirens were sounding.

[Guadalupador]

1000 Hours: Rio Palmas, Maharao. (8/12/2014)

The heat and humidity of the tropical climate hit Artur Valencio like a wall as soon as he left the airplane, and walked out onto the tarmac. He put on his signature sunglasses, and strutted into the small airport's terminal. He was greeted by a few hundred adoring fans as he walked through the airport, smiling, and shaking hands all along the way towards the exit. At the exit, his black Cadillac was there greeting him. He got in to the car and it sped off towards Apadas Market, where he would be announcing his candidacy for President. "They have the stage ready, right?" Artur asked his aide, who sat next to him in the car.

"They've....been stalled." The aide reported.

"The builders of the stage are stalled? What?" Artur asked.

"Well, Mr. Valencio, Fulgencio Ramos and his group of supporters are here, they're blockading the streets around the Market, they're marching there legally. The rest of the workers can't go through."

"Damn it, Ramos is here. Of course he's here, he always has to be here." Artur growled, and threw his hands up in the air.

"We can always reschedule the speech, Mr. Valencio."

"Nononononono, we can't just 'reschedule.' With all the shit that's going on down south, those idiots in the mountains are gaining support from other idiots around here. I'm here to stop that, okay?" Artur said quickly. "I need Ramos out of here, now."

The aide sighed, and pulled out his cellphone. He made a call. "...Yeah....Yes, they're here. We need you to help them wrap up their own march....Yeah, thank you. And try and not attract police attention this time?" The Aide said over the phone.

"Who was that?" Artur asked.

"Some guys that'll solve the problem at hand." The Aide said, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

Ramos-Salvador's POV

He and his supporters marched down the streets proudly, chanting patriotic slogans. Fulgencio interacted with his fellow supporters, shaking hands, and marching along with the crowd, a megaphone in hand. "The Future Is In OUR Hands!" Fulgencio yelled through the megaphone. He smiled as the crowd all around him cheered and started singing the National Anthem. He was ecstatic at the entire event. He was with his people, making a difference in Maharao. That was, until the crowd was disrupted at the front by several hooligans, throwing bottles at the crowd. Fulgencio looked towards the front to see some of Artur Valencio's supporters yelling profanities at the crowd, throwing bottles and bricks and blocking the march's route forward. Fulgencio was outraged. He ran up towards the front of the march, and started to rally the crowd, before being hit in the arm with a brick. Fulgencio went down, he looked up to see his own supporters rush towards the small group blocking the avenue about to attack Valencio's supporters. He was helped back up and moved towards the back of the march, away from the ensuing battle that was occurring up front. "Damn Artur Valencio and his thugs!" He yelled as he was sat down, and treated by a medic.

[Aigeantir]

1000 Hours: Rio Palmas, Maharao

Cpl. Juan Rojas glanced through the scope of his Dragunov, looking down at the Apadas Market in Rio Palmas below. He was lying down on his stomach, perched on a building with a vantage point perpendicular to the street and the route that Ramos-Slavador was supposed to be taking to the market. Ramos-Salvador's supporters were already on site, some blocking traffic into the area. The heat was already becoming unbearable, and it was only just before 10:00 hours, but the heat had started climbing ever since 08:30 that morning. By this point, Rojas had already removed his jacket, and lay on the bleached white roof, wearing a sleeveless white shirt, his BDU trousers, and boots. Unfortunately the rest of his uniform did little to keep him cool, trapping the heat, and making the wait all the more unpleasant. It could have been worse, and the sniper teams perched all around the market plaza could be waiting till after 13:00 hours for Ramos-Salvador's arrival.

Across the market plaza were several other sniper groups, positioned in such a way to try and pick off Ramos-Salvador should he try to escape, however it was Rojas' honour to make the first and what should be, the only shot on Ramos-Salvador. There were also several plain-clothed crowd plants, within Ramos-Salvador's entourage, who had been giving updates all morning about his whereabouts, now they were within the final stretch to the market.

Beside him Cpl. Daniela Garcia seemed to be rechecking the distances, and recording the information into a notebook. Rojas wasn't sure if it was the heat or being close to Daniela, but he knew he wanted to mess around with her the next chance he got. Yes, fraternization was frowned upon by the rules and regulations of the Maharao military, but everyone violated these rules, including the leadership, who were known to have mistresses and relationships with recruits, and any female officers who were willing to trade their body for a promotion, while many of them had a wife and kids at home as well. For Rojas, he had lucked out, as Garcia was as serious as they came, but her weakness was her ability to fall in love hard and fast, a weakness Rojas had used to his advantage. While Garcia often dressed in such a way to minimize her femininity, she did have an amazing body, and especially now with the heat of the day, with Garcia also having removed her jacket as well and wearing a white sleeveless shirt that only accented her physical form, Rojas wanted her badly.

Garcia had always been someone of "honour" and "integrity" and it was humourous to Rojas to think that he had broken her from the fantasy world that she and others like her, often called Bienhechors (do-gooders) by Ortega, often lived in. The Bienhechors themselves were not called that. They were more a unorganized danger that Ortega was often concerned with, but the closest thing that came to an organized group had to be the meetings of the group known as Honorem Super Se. In reality they were nothing, just a small group that met together to share stories about being a good officer, but Ortega was worried about them nonetheless. When Rojas started sleeping with Garcia, she had tried to get him to come out to their meetings on many an occasion, but he had always had an excuse. Feeding into her obsession with him, now that she was in love with him, he would ask her about what the Honorem had talked about, but Garcia eventually stopped talking about the group after Rojas had made several excuses not to come to a meeting. Of course little did she know that he had been sharing her information with Ortega, and how could she? She only seemed to care about a fantasy, where the two of them started a life together after serving their terms, but for Rojas, he only wanted her for her body.

Garcia responded to some radio chatter saying that Ramos-Salvador was only 5 minutes out. She kept giving him a smile, and he gave her the occasional wink. Ortega had been concerned when he had chosen to have Garcia on this mission with his team, but Rojas had told Ortega that Garcia wouldn't know the true nature of the mission, and even if she had heard the name Ramos-Salvador within her meetings with Honorem, he had gone to great lengths, including putting a fake name on the mission instructions, and telling Garcia that the man was a mid-level Fronte member trying to gain support here in Rio Palmas. She was completely in the dark. The rest of his sniper team were all Ortega loyalists, and could be trusted, but Rojas had told Ortega, that it didn't matter if he had a bunch of Honorem members sniping for him, all it took was the one shot, the one shot that he would make.

Garcia gave him a bit of a coy smile, and he couldn't help but think about how hilarious it would be when he finally revealed to her that he didn't love her at all. That he was only using her, and that she had been a significant leak for the Honorem to Ortega. He didn't know whay would hurt her more. The radio clicked informing the snipers that Ramos-Salvador would be moving into the open shortly, and a sudden thought entered his head. "Daniela, how about you take the shot?" Rojas said in his most sweetest innocent tone. He would relish it even more when she found out that she had pulled the trigger on Ramos-Salvador, hero of the people, and the closest thing to an ally that Honorem had at the moment. She looked at him somewhat stunned, before hesitantly asking.

"But what if I miss. What if...," said Garcia before Rojas cut her off.

"Don't worry, you won't, and even if you do, one of the other teams will get the target," he said reassuringly. He had faith in her that she would hit the mark. Yes he was the best, but she was good too, and some days she was better than him.

"Okay, but I better get the credit in the report," she replied.

Garcia handed off the radio and binoculars to him, and carefully moved closer to the rifle. Rojas moved slightly over, but stayed close enough that he would be pressed up against her body while making the shot. He was hoping that a combination of his close proximity and the excitement of her success would help allow him to convince her of doing it here on the roof. Suddenly Ramos-Salvador came into view, but a group of thugs seemed to be surrounding him and his entourage. A tussle began, and they lost sight of Ramos-Salvador, who appeared moments later only within a clear line of sight of their position. The man seemed to be waiting for a medic to arrive. "Do it!" Rojas said with glee, but his mood quickly changed to fear, when he realized that Garcia was only holding onto the rifle with one hand. That's when realized that her right hand was pointing her handgun at his stomach.

BANG

An excruciating amount of pain shot through Rojas, and he looked at her, shock and fear in his eyes. "Wh-why? What are you...?" He tried going for his own pistol, but before he could she pushed him onto his back, straddling his waist, and cinching his arm against his side. She pointed the muzzle at his heart, at point blank range and fired again.

BANG

The pain was unbearable, and this time all Rojas could do was gasp for breath. All Garcia said was "Honorem Super Se" As the spark of life left him, Garcia grabbed his pistol from him and tossed it across the roof. She then went to the sniper rifle, and picked off the snipers, spotters, and finally the contacts within the entourage. The last thing Rojas heard over the sound of the sniper rifle discharging was the sound of alarmed messages between the sniping teams as they were quickly picked off.

---

Garcia had just watched as the last military contact within the entourage took a bullet through the head, with the bullet traveling safely into the wall nearby. No collateral. Tos would be pleased. It was done. The entire sniper team was dead. Garcia was filled with mixed emotion. Ramos-Salvador was alive, and Rojas was dead. Rojas may have been as corrupt as the rest of the military, but she had loved him. She had felt guilty, and still did for her relationship with Rojas, but what had made it far worse beyond breaking military protocol was the fact that Rojas was telling Ortega about what she had told him. She couldn't even believe it herself the first time she had been told. Rojas had only been resistant to going to an Honorem meeting, in her mind, because he didn't believe as strongly about honour and discipline. Of course he didn't, otherwise he wouldn't have slept with her, but Col. Tos and the others had informed her that they had their suspicions that information was being leaked through her, and after confirming it with fake information, Garcia stopped talking to Rojas about anything Honorem discussed.

It was Garcia's choice to go along with the sniper group, and Garcia's plan to stop the assasination of Ramos-Salvador. Tos had warned her that once she had succeeded, if she had succeeded, she would be considered a traitor by the army, and that Tos had contacts who could help her escape. Garcia refused. She had her own escape plan, and hopefully one that would restore the honour she felt she had lost through her relationship with Rojas and being a leak for Honorem's activities. She knew that her mission would succeed whether or not she survived. Is she had stopped Rojas from killing Ramos-Salvador, she would have been killed, but bought time for Ramos-Salvador to escape. But Rojas had stupidly given her the shot, and she had used the opportunity to kill the entire sniper team, all but her. Now she had to finish it. As repayment for the debt she owed Honorem for giving her back her integrity and honour, and to ensure that few fingers pointed to Honorem, she had to wipe out the entire team. She grabbed Rojas pistol that she had tossed across the roof, and dropped her own pistol near his hand. Rojas now lay dead on the roof, eyes open, staring blankly at the sky.

She took a moment to survey her handiwork. There was chaos in the streets, but none of the military members hiding within Ramos-Salvador's entourage were alive. Funny what we do in the end she thought to herself, realizing that she had given Rojas the appearance in death that he had at least had the opportunity to defend himself before being killed. The tragedy of it all was that even now she still loved him. She bent down, kissing him on the lips, a tear welling up and falling down her cheek before splashing across his dead face. She then raised the pistol to her temple, taking the safety off, and for a moment feared to follow through. She panicked, and she started second-guessing herself, trying to imagine living a long life in obscurity somewhere, but all she could think of was Rojas and her life with him that wasn't meant to be. Glancing over at Rojas, she whispered while fighting back tears, "I will see you soon, my love." Then, gathering her courage, she yelled "Honorem Super Se" and pulled the trigger.

BANG

Ending her life.

[Inyourfaceistan]

Serinidade, Marahao

---

The desert winds blew light spits of dust and rattled the dry bushes as Diego Lima lifted his cellphone and sat down atop a large, sun-baked boulder high on a hill above Serinidade to get the best reception. His entourage of six armed men stood watch, one of them batting away a small rattlesnake with his AK-74.
"Good... Good... How much did Silviera make off with? Hhmm... Well let me know when you figure out. Not a single arrest? Impressive, but stay cautious. What of Dos Santos?... Excellent. I assume I will know if his mission is successful, which I have no reason to doubt it would be...
What's that? Yes I heard, but no serious details... Military snipers killed? That's helpful but that wasn't us - unless you're not telling me anything... I don't think Silviera's boys would be behind it either... Nothing, we say nothing. Pretend it didn't happen. Focus on our victories and ignore that which is of no immediate concern to us and the world will know which is the work of Fronte Contrarevolucao and what is not... I will have Braga take care of it... Until next time..." he said to an unknown commander as he clicked off the cellphone. He then took the device and tossed it into a small fire his entourage had started with some dried sticks and grass, watching the pre-paid cellphone crackle and pop as the flames licked around the small item...

---

All over Marahao

---

To news stations and radio stations across the country - mostly those in areas with heavy A Fronte presence - anonymous individuals dropped video tapes and voice recordings of a public statement by the group. The videos featured a mid-level member, Lucio Braga, who all in all wasn't that important - only commanding a camp of about sixty fighters in the southern jungles - but would make an enticing figurehead for supporters and false target for the authorities.

Statement by Fronte Contrarevolucao

---

Good day to everyone, the brave people of Marahao and the Neo-Soviet traitor regime ruling this country alike. As you may have heard, there has been a rash of activity in San Marinho - overall leading up to a successful liberation of stolen money by the PSL in which rebel fighters were able to easily trick and distract the city's police force and take back what belongs to the individuals - not the thugs in power!
I, Capitao Lucio Sandezi Braga, on behalf of A Fronte Contrarevolucao take responsiblity for this act of defiance and dissent against the PSL tyrants and their bloody revolution. Our war of justice and rollback against the Neo-Soviet oligarchy will continue until the false-liberators resign from government and turn the country over to fair elections.
However, we all fully expect the ruling pinko gang to cling to their power to strip money from your wallets and nationalize your property, your jobs and your livelihood at will. If this should be the case - which I hope against but we all believe will be so - then we of Fronte Contrerevolucao dare the coward government cockroaches to come and get us!

VIVA A CONTRAREVOLUCAO!!!