From the back alleys and salty docks to the high end boutique filled streets and hallowed bureaucratic halls, the power of the Tyran criminal syndicates has grown until it can no longer be ignored by the law enforcement agencies of these nations. Drugs flow across the streets of major Tyran cities. Related crimes that fund the drug trade and the Syndicate such as poaching, smuggling, gun running, laundering, counterfeiting, embezzling and slave trafficking are flourishing at rates never seen before.
When one snake head is smashed, another pops up to take its place. At the behest of the OTN and several Tyrannic national agencies, the Tyran Police Organisation has put together a Special Narcotics Task Force with unprecedented power to sever the links, lock up the kingpins, and strike what may be a fatal blow to bring down the network once and for all. It's not the first such group tasked with this overwhelming mission and it probably won't be the last, but someone's got to fight the good fight.
Facilitating the cooperation of international police organisations across Tyran, the Tyran Police Organisation (TYRAPOL) dedicates itself to matters of regional public safety, and includes police officials, personnel, and government agents from across the region among its ranks.
The Outskirts of
Tenipako, Pwanatajiri Province, Mubata
Away from the bustle of the busy port city, in the hills above, lived the elite and powerful of Mubata. From local politicians to CEOs to foreign mavens and corporate dignitaries to the underworld figures of the whole Republic, they all claimed villas in these hills. A large framed black man - shaved completely bald and wearing a distinctive, pastel green suit, a couple gold necklaces and comfortable Cacertan made loafers - sat enjoying the smells, light and atmosphere of the back gardens of his estate.
He waited in the garden, knowing that his majordomo, Feromba, would escort them to him when she arrived. She had brought some of her own people when she’d first arrived, but they didn’t blend in well with the locals, so he insisted that whenever she went out that she also took an escort of some of the Mshale's elite soldiers. She’d headed out to the markets, insisting on shopping, despite the obvious safety hazards it presented.
He had most of the local badges in his pocket, but there were greater dangers than that. Why did he worry so about her? He did have quite a physical attraction to her, but he kept his feelings hidden, as well as he could. They had a professional relationship and he was content to keep it at that.
There were so many organizations throughout the region that relied on the network. What Thien Lieu and her group, the Mshale outfit, the Provenzano Syndicate in Cacerta, the Severnyy Bratstvo, the Vshtali in Nalaya and several other links in the chain could continue to keep that beautiful product flowing across the region. Lately, the network had come under fire in Quenmin and he needed to know why. He’d let Thien Lieu get settled and calm herself after her ordeal to get here to Tenipako, but now he needed answers. He was determined to get some when she arrived in the garden of his villa. He was letting her stay at the villa next to his, having vacated his book keeper, who he’d had to promise a deluxe downtown condo in the process. It was all well worth it.
Jafari ‘Karibu’ Yzaforu put his scotch down on the veranda table and stood up as they approached. He smiled his wide smile that only a man such as himself could display in contrast to his imposing frame.
“Welcome back, my dear. Did you find all that you were seeking in the markets?”
“Yes,” she answered, holding up two bottles of cane liquor and a bag of fruits, “especially these, as a result of what happened in Quenmin.”
“Ah, yes, liquor and fruit, two things that there are abundant here, if you can afford them. I’m a bit surprised that you didn’t hunt down something more esoteric. Tenipako is the major port for the country, as you know, more so than Gyata, and anything can be found, and I mean anything...for the right price...”
He motioned her to take a seat and said a couple clipped words in Tizi to his men. They took her bags of goods from the markets gently from her, and bowed. The bags would be delivered over to her villa for her. She kept one of the liquor bottles.
“So...sit, please...you mentioned Quenmin. I wanted to talk to you about that. I didn’t want to badger you, as you seemed quite frantic on arrival, but now that you’ve had time to settle and recuperate from your ordeal...You did have an ordeal didn’t you?”
“Indeed, I did,” she replied, sighing, “apparently in hindsight, there were moles within thdsat part of the network that were able to provide CISCOM and the police with vital information about our markets’ activities and operations.
She opened the cane liquor bottle.
“And they were able to do it without getting caught.”
“I see. That is unfortunate, for sure...” He ordered a servant nearby to bring cups for Thien Lieu’s liquor.
“I will have to have a review of my personnel then, as well, to make sure more moles aren’t present in our outfit, but...It’s not likely. As you may have realized, I have high connections within our government that protect my operations from scrutiny. Even those I don’t have control over, well...Mubatan officials tend to loathe working with other nations’ agencies. I can’t see a whole lot of cooperation happening between Tenipako police or Republican authorities and any international legal entities that actually do their jobs properly.”
He pulled out a long, brown cigarillo from a pocket inside his blazer, as the servant brought two cups and set them down on the table.
“Do you mind if I smoke? Care for one?”
As they were outside in his back courtyard garden, he usually indulged in one or two on his own. He held out a twin to his own smoke for her.
“Of course.”
Thien Lieu then grabbed the one he held out and proceeded to get her lighter out before he could light it for her. Putting the cigarillo between her lips, she takes one deep breath with utmost sublimity, letting in as much incense as possible to occupy every space within her lungs before pushing it out like an afternoon breeze.
“Chúa tôi, 30 tons of flakka, meth, and heroin, worth a total of Ѧ12.56 million, all down the drain,” she then shakes her head, “terrible waste of money and effort. And this loss will be exacerbated even more when Tyrapol is up to their heads on this.”
She then takes a sip from the cup.
'Kibaru' followed suit, switching up from his scotch to the cane liquor.
“That is quite a loss. We were counting on some of that product for our clientele down here...”
She continued on.
“So, we have to kick things up a notch as of now, for they’ll certainly find a way to get the authorities in this country to cooperate with them once they’ve figured out the whole gist of our network.”
Jafari took a long puff on his own cigarillo.
“My dear, it would take quite some exertion to make that happen. Sorry, if I'm being repetitive, but I really want to allay some of your fears. I suppose there’s some international pressure that can be brought to bear on Mubatan authorities, but it would have to be immense pressure...Worse than the regional sanctions that are already squeezing this mostly backwater country dry. It will also take some time for that pressure to crack open the shell of Mubatan government corruption. Weeks to months, at least.”
“I suppose, but still, they’ll find a way.”
Kirabu aka Jafari, rested the cigarillo in an ashtray notch. Then he spread his newly freed hands dramatically.
“Alright then. Suppose you are right. Suppose that they eventually come looking for you down here and somehow, they convince Fazembe's people to stop shielding you. What should we do then? Perhaps make an escape route for you. Send you off to the central hinterlands...oh you’ll love it there.” He let out a low chuckle. “...Nuclear desert wasteland. Zangtopo or Fimbala, perhaps...or maybe we send you out to the island? Yolenga! Yes! In the jungle, near the river...Then there’s always Nalaya, we would just need to avoid the Mak’ur. We have some routes through there, and we can always spirit you around the coast. I think we would want to avoid Mansuriyyah. We might even be able to get you to Tennai, though…”
He paused, realizing he was overwhelming her a bit.
“You might want to slow down there,” she said, giving off a little chuckle as her mouth still clung onto the cigarillo.
He smiled, then took another sip of the cane liquor.
“Of course, I didn’t mean to deluge you, my dear. My point is that we have it handled. We should have fair warning if they come sniffing around here. But...if you feel that you’d like to take precautions, or begin to plan the next step in your journey, an escape plan from Mubata, if you will...Well, I would never suggest that it is not prudent. One can never be too careful.”
“I guess,” she said after taking another puff.
Kirabu nodded, taking up his cigarillo and also having another puff.
“If you would wish, I will have my people work with yours to start making arrangements for you so that we have such a plan in place. Which destination sounded the most appealing to you? We of course can make arrangements for more than one place, but I’m thinking we’ll need a primary plan in place, with backups if necessary.”
“Of course, Mr. Jafari. And I’m thinking about the escape places being Zangtopo and Nalaya, in that order. What do you say?”
He raised an eyebrow, then nodded. He raised his glass to his lips then changed his mind and put it down before taking a sip.
“Certainly. I say that is...not a conventional choice, but...possibly a prudent one. If your goal is to throw them off and keep them guessing, then I say you are on the right track. While Zangtopo is in a bit of a desolate desert area, we do have several connections there to where you should still be comfortable within the means you are accustomed to.
As for Nalaya, I don’t know how much you know of them, but there are several distinct ethnic groups that all rule their own homelands without much interference from the central government.
While they border us, much of the border consists of the Ma’kur, a very hostile and reclusive group, especially when it comes to the Tizi, and so we have had to make great pains to get around them to the elements in the groups that will work with us. It was not impossible, but a bit of a project, so bear with us as the journey there would take longer than one might think from glancing at a map. I will start the preparations now, though.”
“I can endure it,” she smiled before putting out the cigarillo, “if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my room to take my afternoon sleep.”
Jafari took the last gulp of cane liquor before placing it down back on the table,
“Absolutely. Enjoy your nap. I hope to discuss more as it comes to our mutual networks when you wake up. We will be having a ‘chama chamoto’ later this evening. In some cultures this is known as a barbeque or cookout. We will be grilling many animals and it will be quite the feast, so save your appetite.”
“Will do,” she said as she ambled away.
As he watched her shapely figure from behind, he lamented his decision to respect her from a professional standpoint and not push anything on a romantic front. It was all for the best, though. Nothing was more important than maintaining the network that not only kept the Mshale outfit and her organization together, but ran the breadth of the region’s deep seated needs that weren’t recognized and often vilified by official channels. That and he hadn’t gotten a single signal that his overtures might be accepted by Thien Lieu. Kibaru smiled as he put out the two cigarillos in the ashtray, then gulped down the last of the cane liquor in his glass, followed by the rest of his scotch. He had work to do and felt he needed to steel himself for it.
Not only did he need to set up further avenues for Thien Lieu to escape towards, but he needed to look to fortifying the network for the onslaught that she foretold. Law enforcement in his eyes was a joke, as they never seemed to be consistent from one nation to the next.
While he had a lot of Mubata’s national, and the Tenipako local law enforcement, in his pocket, they could in theory, as Thien Lieu feared, be pressured by the more powerful regional players to buckle and clamp down.
It was a game in which to find the legal loopholes and find those most susceptible to earning an extra income that was in flagrant violation to the oaths they had taken. That was a game in which Jafari felt he excelled at.
If the regional politicos and their tools, such as Tyrapol, were really were mobilizing to take on the regional network, it would be best for the network to prepare countermeasures and line up legal protections that would be needed in order to shunt aside the attacks by police, prosecutors, government agents, judiciaries and legislators. He also had a magnificent stalking goat in mind that should put them off his and Thien Lieu's trail.
Soon enough he would put it all into motion. For now, Jafari inhaled deeply as he took in his gardens, the last wisps of cigarillo smoke, and the vapors of the alcohol they had enjoyed. He called over Feromba and pointed to his scotch glass. Time for a refill.
RP CREDIT: Co-RP credit goes to Quen minh.
