[Earth II] Pain Without a Cure

[Layarteb]

OOC: The following thread chronicles the fall of the Islamic Republic of Persia [aka Gliskor] in Earth II. His very well-written and formed introduction thread can be found here and it will play an important reference for this post.

Pain Without a Cure


Figure 1.1 - Physical map of Iran [click for larger image]


Figure 1.2 - Road map of Iran [click for larger image]


Figure 1.3 - Physical map of the Middle East [click for larger image]

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Five Finger Death Punch
Far From Home

Another day in this carnival of souls
Another night's sands end as quickly as it goes
The memories are shadows, ink on the page
And I can't seem to find my way home

And it's almost like your heaven's trying everything
Your heaven's trying everything to keep me out

All the places I've been and things I've seen
A million stories that made up a million shattered dreams
The faces of people I'll never see again
And I can't seem to find my way home

'Cause it's almost like your heaven's trying everything to break me down
'Cause it's almost like your heaven's trying everything to keep me out

'Cause it's almost like your heaven's trying everything to break me down
'Cause it's almost like your heaven's trying everything
Your heaven's trying everything to break me down
To break me down, to break me down

Your heaven's trying everything
Your heaven's trying everything to break me down

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History of Gliskor

The following is found in The Persian Civil War.

• January 8, 2011: [Gliskor] The thirty-one Ostandar (Governors) of the soon to be Persian provinces met in Tehran to begin talks of a federal government to provide a unified front to the world stage.
• January 14, 2011: [Gliskor] Talks stall as arguments over which powers are retained by the provinces and which become federal halt progress on a constitution.
• January 29, 2011: [Gliskor] A two-week recess is taken to allow the governors to present the rough draft of the Persian Federations constitution to their local leaders and political figures.
• February 12, 2011: [Gliskor] The Council of Ostandar reconvenes under the name of the Transitory Council of the Persian Federation.
• February 17, 2011: [Gliskor] The final draft of the Constitution of the Persian Federation is completed, giving primarily the powers of National Defense, International Diplomacy, the settling of inter-province disputes, and Economics Regulation to the Federal Government, as well as any powers not explicitly given to provinces.
• February 18, 2011: [Gliskor] The Provincial Council of the Persian Federation is established, consisting of the 21 provincial governors.
• February 25, 2011: [Gliskor] The Provincial Council elects Mohammad Khudhur, Ostandar of Tehran, as President of the Federation.
• March 1, 2011: [Gliskor] A rebellion against the Federation is led by Josef Mahmud, Ostandar of East Azerbaijan, and consists of both East and West Azerbaijan. Their complaint is of a Shiite dominated Government, and accusations of bribery by Khudhur to assume the Presidency. (This is where my intro will begin, leading up to March 11)
• April 12, 2011: [Gliskor] Mass executions across Persia replace the former Federal government with a Shiite Islamic Republic, headed by President Khudhur. The Army of the Guardians of the Persian Islamic Revolution (Sepah-e Pasdaran-e Enqelab-e Irani Eslamiis) is founded, taking control of all intelligence agencies as well as the Basij. A massive military deployment consisting of the II Corps is continued in Northern Persia to combat Sunni and Kurdish rebel forces.
• April 15, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] Layartebian Black Operations Forces clandestinely insert into western Iran to observe and destroy various Islamic fundamentalist groups that have arisen.
• April 16, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] Layartebian BOF assault a warehouse belonging to the Allah's Brigade for Jihad (ABJ) in Ghareh Bagh, Iran.
• May 10, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] Layartebian security personnel at Incirlik Air Force Base begin surveillance of a Persian military team deployed as part of the Empire of Layarteb's effort against fundamentalist groups in western Iran.
• May 21, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] Layartebian SOF assault the ABJ main headquarters in Salmas during a nighttime raid. One Layartebian is killed but intelligence is recovered suggesting the formation of a super fundamentalist group. All ABJ members are killed and the organization is considered defunct.
• May 22, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] Layartebian security personnel at Incirlik arrest the Persian military liaison team in connection with the various terrorist groups.
• June 9, 2011: [Gliskor] The super fundamentalist group identified by Layartebian forces in late May announces a Fatwa against most of the world. The group is named Al-Shams.
• June 14, 2011: [Gliskor] Persian forces declare victory over fundamentalist groups in western Iran and the military campaign officially ends.

The following is to be written in this current thread.

• July 2011: [Gliskor, Urbov] Late in the month, Persian and Russian forces trade shots in several minor border skirmishes on the Azerbaijani-Iranian border.
• August 1, 2011: [Gliskor] President Khudhur officially sacks the lead generals of the Persian military citing the border skirmishes as unapproved actions. In doing so, he reshuffles the military.
• August 3, 2011: [Gliskor] Sacked generals lead a coup against President Khudhur. The fighting is intense but lasts only several hours and by the end of the day, President Khudhur is captured. General Amjad Haji Saoshyant assumes control over the country and appoints Lieutenant General Bashar as his second in command. He appoints Major General Omar Abdullah to overall command of military operations. In doing so, he promotes Bashar to general and Abdullah to Lieutenant General.
• August 9, 2011: [Gliskor] President Khudhur is put on trial for corruption and high treason.
• August 11, 2011: [Gliskor] A kangaroo court finds President Khudhur guilty and sentences him to death. He is executed on public television that evening by hanging.
• August 12, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] General Saoshyant resigns from the military and appoints himself President of Persia. He immediately severs all diplomatic relations with the Empire of Layarteb citing their military involvement in western Iran as unapproved and an act of war against the Persian people. In doing so, he also denounces the Russians and blames them for all border skirmishes claiming that Russian forces attacked Persian forces first.
• August 20, 2011: [Gliskor] Secretly, President Saoshyant forms an alliance with Al-Shams and provides them with safe haven to operate training camps and provides them with equipment from the Persian military that is obsolete and due to be replaced. In doing so, Al-Shams quietly opens up cells and facilities in Iran.
• August 29, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] After significant diplomatic pressure, Persia and the Empire of Layarteb resume diplomatic relations.
• October 7, 2011: [Gliskor, Urbov] Persian military forces along the Azerbaijani border skirmish with Russian troops but are pushed back.
• October 12, 2011: [Gliskor, Urbov] In Grozny, in front of the government building, a car bomb is detonated. However, it is linked to a radiological device (i.e. a dirty bomb). The resulting explosion kills 40 people outright and but the radioactive contamination salts the entire center of the city forcing the Russian government to cordon off most of the city from human habitation. Many more die because of panic and radiation poisoning. Al-Shams takes credit for the bombing citing the liberation of Muslim brothers in Chechnya and the Caucasus.
• October 13, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] Persian "students" assault and seize the Layartebian embassy and capture the ambassador and embassy staff. They are to stand trial for espionage against Persia.
• October 26 - 27, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb] Layartebian forces perform a daring and complex rescue operation that is successful but sees the death of two Layartebian SOF soldiers. The Islamic Republic of Persia openly declares a state of war with the Empire of Layarteb in response to this act.
• October 29, 2011: [Gliskor, Urbov] The Russian government determines that the materials used in the Grozny Dirty Bomb had come from Persia and that Al-Shams was not responsible. When the Russian government confronts President Saoshyant concerning the matter, Russia is accused of a false flag operation and President Saoshyant threatens Russia with military action.
• October 30, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb, Urbov] Russia determines the secret link between the government of Persia and Al-Shams. They pass this information to the Empire of Layarteb.
• November 1, 2011: [Gliskor, Layarteb, Urbov] Russia officially declares war on Persia and begins air strikes against Persian military targets. The Empire of Layarteb condemns Persia for the Grozny Dirty Bomb and announces a statement of solidarity with the Russian government.

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[URBOV]

И в конце концов, не должно быть только хаос.
And in the end, there shall be only chaos.

October 12, 2011

Grozny was a smoking ruin, a city that was torn by warfare, a pile of broken lives and shattered buildings; it was the Capital and center of the Russian Islamic Fundamentalist Movement. Poverty of an extreme nature was common, running water and electricity was not. The Grozny Cordon, a massive military barrier that isolated the city loomed in the distance, staffed by no less than twelve full Divisions of Interior Ministry Troops, the Cordon was impenetrable and the heaps of slaughtered people beyond the wire testified to this fact. Brutal patrols rolled through the shanty towns that were dubbed, “Residential Districts” daily and the sound of gunfire was as common as the song of birds in more peaceful regions. In the center of the “city” towered the Governmental Center, a mighty concrete edifice that was a testament to the will of the Russian Federation and the Russian Union State.

Towards this structure a dirty semi-truck drove, weaving in and out of the chaotic traffic that was the norm even in this city. The truck was white, or at least it was, mud and paint had been applied liberally to the sides of the truck making it indistinguishable from the other dirty vehicles of the Chechen Capital. The two drivers were similarly indistinguishable, dressed in the faded overalls of industrial workers; a uniform seen across RUS. Growling in time with the almost subconscious roar of traffic, the truck slowed and finally stopped down the street from the Capital Building’s perimeter. The Driver and Shotgun Man exchanged some tense words, and both produced the Green Headbands of the, “Islamic Army of Chechnya”. The Driver slipped a bulldog clip into his mouth and the Shotgun man slide a Kalashnikov Rifle out from behind his battered seat.


Traffic continued to flow unabated around the truck, there was nothing suspicious of a Semi-Truck parking in front of a Restaurant after all. Instead of unloading a shipment of fresh meat however the truck started back up and began to race towards the Capital, gaining speed at a rapid and constant pace. The Shotgun man knocked out his window only five meters from the Perimeter to fire off a quick burst of 7.62x39 rounds. The Local Conscripts all hit the dirt, returning inaccurate fire. Their Russian NCO was the only one to call out that they should instead shoot at the driver, aiming precise shots from his own AK-74U. It was too late however and the truck smashed through the fragile Razor Wire Barrier and continued on to impact with an amazingly loud crack in the front of the Government Building. The Driver bit down on the bulldog clip which sent an electric current along the wire that led to the bomb that was sitting in the cargo hold of the truck, there was a soft beep as the five second timer began to count down. The Shotgun man in that time turned his Kalashnikov on the driver and himself, ensuring that there would be no heroic Russian Soldier taking them prisoner.

Three seconds after the grisly murder-suicide the bomb detonated in a great corona of flame and radiation. The bomb was a makeshift device comprised of two tons of dynamite, and over a dozen fuel rods from the Persian Nuclear Plant outside of Tehran, a relic from the days of the Ottoman Khaif. Sitting atop the explosives and the radioactive material were several crates worth of nails and other metal scraps which exploded outwards in a shower of shrapnel, immediately killing the Police Officers not killed by the blast itself. Immediately the radiation began to descend, the enriched nuclear fuel rods providing an abundance of radioactive material. Soon the entire Government Building Campus was contaminated, though the blast hardly damaged the sturdy structure which had been designed to withstand the run of the mill bomb attacks that were quite common in Grozny.

The entire incident was not known to be a “Dirty Bombing” until Police Investigators managed to find the shattered ruins of one of the fuel rods, spared from destruction by being placed in the far corner from the blast. At that time the local Chechen Police alerted the Russian Military Cordon which in turn notified both EMERCON and the Strategic Rocket Service. Both agencies dispatched experts immediately but these two would arrive on the following day. Unable to act for fear of being ambushed by what obviously was a more resourceful than thought Militia Movement, yet unwilling to simply sit and accept the blow, the Russian Military Cordon donned their Gas Masks and Chemical Suits; the lucky few (mostly Officers or Specialists) donned radiation suits.

The Artillery Units attached to the Cordon sighted rounds on known Terrorist neighborhoods and fired two hours of retaliatory bombardments, destroying what had taken some Chechens their entire lives to amass. The feared second attack occurred three hours later, with a team of five suicide bombers blowing up a bus near one of the Cordon Checkpoints and a Mortar Team shelling the same area for ten minutes. The Russian Military responded with a savage artillery bombardment and an infantry patrol which was able to recover the mortar team’s remains which were little more than broken sacks of flesh. Thinking that they had won, the same patrol was caught in a vicious crossfire between two Terrorist Units. In order to save this doomed Patrol, a Motorized Patrol was dispatched. The same patrol quickly located the terrorist teams, spotting them first on their thermal scopes and then blowing them to bits with the 20mm cannons that had been installed on the BTR-80 frames. Limping into the Cordon Outposts, the Patrols were both alerted to the news that had already swept across the Russian Union State; bombs had gone off in eight major cities and towns.

Kiev, Rostov-on-Don, Volgograd, Smolensk, Kazan, Nizhniy Novgorod, Odessa, and Tula were all victims of one or several bomb attacks. Hospitals, Schools, Factories, and even a Day Care Center were all targeted and already the government had calculated that there was at the least over three hundred casualties and triple that wounded. EMERCON responded by mobilizing all Emergency Responders in the RUS, pulling Ukrainian and Belorussian Responders as well as rousing Siberian and even Far Eastern Aid Stations. Already the attack had been dubbed the worst in Russian history, something that was already prompting Right Wing Politicians and Military Hawks to cry for retaliation, though against who was still unclear. The government had yet to act or issue a statement, instead opting to simply respond and assess.

Volgograd
October 29th


The Combined Federal Duma sat in complete and utter silence, an anomaly for what usually was a rather argumentative group. The various Representatives both from Russia and from the other Republics were silent, focusing on the President who stood at the pulpit before the arena shaped chamber. Several weeks had passed since what was now known ominously as, “The Grozny Incident” and in that time the Strategic Rocket Service and EMERCON experts had delivered their reports directly to the President’s Staff. He in turn had called an emergency session of the Duma. Troubled looks were upon all faces as the President read off the meaningless statistics that highlighted the gradual rise of bombings since the formation of the Islamic Republic of Persia. When Dmitri Siloviki reached the Grozny Incident itself, he paused before slowly saying,

“It is confirmed by both me [Strategic Rocket Service Radiological Warfare Expert Major Semyan T. Momontov] and my EMERCON colleagues that the improvised explosive device that detonated outside of the Grozny Capital Building was in fact an Improvised Radiological Weapon or “Dirty Bomb”. Unlike usual “Dirt Bombs” this one was constructed using Enriched Uranium and was skillfully constructed to project more radiation at greater distances. It is the opinion of both EMERCON and the Strategic Rocket Service that the City of Grozny be granted “Closed Status” and a general evacuation be conducted.”

Looking up from the report, the President swept his gaze across the assembled Representatives and continued with,

“It has been confirmed by both EMERCON and the Strategic Rocket Services that the Radioactive Material in question has been traced via Radioactive Signature to the Islamic Republic of Persia….”

The President dropped off and stood silently for a moment, visibly shaken by what he had just re-read for the Duma. He set the report down heavily on the podium and stood in silence for a moment, no doubt considering what he was about to request. With a nervous hand he adjusted his tie and continued,

“By Secret Article 1917 of the Constitution of the Russian Union State, I request that Special Emergency Powers be granted to me and my Office in the name of both stemming this rising tide of Chaos and in the name of marshaling our response to this Persian Attack.”

There was a brief pause as the Duma Representatives considered what the President had requested. Special Emergency Powers effectively destroyed the Democratic Process within the Russian Union State, granting Dmitri Siloviki and his agents’ unlimited power within the Union State. It had only once been granted before during the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the chaotic transfer to the Russian Union State, a time that was marked by almost as destructive and even more rampant anarchy. Gifting them to President Siloviki now could change Russia forever seeing as to how he had the necessary levels of public support to extend said powers indefinitely. However the situation was intolerable and with a sense of foreboding the Combined Federal Duma approved the granting of Emergency Powers to President Dmitri Siloviki until the “Crisis was over”.

Grozny
November 1st



The Military Cordon had stayed quiet for the last few days, sitting in silence, presiding over Grozny; the city on fire. Occasionally they were challenged by bands of Militia or Civilians who were desperate to escape the largely contaminated and suddenly lawless city, but the Military turned back or shot them respectively. Local Police had already been completely overwhelmed and the few Military Units still in the city were fighting off ravenous mobs who clamored for the safety and security their weapons and talents offered. Aerial Support and Artillery Strikes in support of these enclaves was as destructive as they possibly could be, raining incendiary or even Novichok rounds upon the mobs and Terrorist bands.

Once President Siloviki received Emergency Powers however, the Cordon was given new orders. Instead of mobilizing for a general evacuation as was expected, they were told to reinforce the line with nearby Military Units to augment the Interior Troops already deployed. Artillery units were given standing orders to shell the city regularly, sweeping across it in great rolling barrages. Military Units already deployed were given orders to push for the Cordon, Police Units declared lost, and civilian Politicians abandoned. The Russian Air Force contributed to the new campaign against the city as well, dropping dumb bombs in large quantities upon both Residential and the few Industrial Centers within that city.

For Grozny, there would be no evacuation, there would be only extermination.


Volgograd
November 1st



President Dmitri Siloviki sat before another chamber, not filled with Representatives but with the best FSB and Spetsnaz Personnel. Each man was a veteran of warfare and subterfuge, each man handpicked to be the first of a new agency. The President was a former Intelligence Man himself, his service record in the KGB was widely regarded as the “Perfect Record”. As such he was no stranger to Secret Government Agencies, and so he was able to organize a new one with the help of his staff in record time. The men before him were the first group, the Officers, the Overseers, the Controllers, of a shadowy Ministry that was both a new 17th Directorate of the Ministry of Defense, a new Office within the FSB, and it’s own Autonomous Agency itself. These men were the first of the Cheka.



In the next room sat a similarly veteran group, though these were not soldiers or spies but were instead Politicians and Authors. Pochvennichestvo was in drastic need of a legitimate Ideological Base, just as the President was in drastic need of complete Political control. The Russian Unity Party was the undisputed master of Russian Politics, Dmitri Siloviki was himself one of the founding members, however it’s time was past. Russia was now mostly united as was the Slavic Balkans, it’s tune of Ethnic and National Unity was no longer fresh. It was time now for a calculated gamble; the Russian Unity Party was to be shelved in favor of a new Political Organization that would be known simply as, “Motherland”. This cabal of Political Experts was to craft the Modern Pochvennichestvo Movement out of the remnants of both the Russian Unity Party and the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, and they were to do it in only several weeks.



In yet another room sat a third group of experts, economic moguls, and powerful Oligarchs. These men were not to craft a new political ideology or a new Omnipresent Intelligence Agency, they were to surrender their assets. Naturally they had yet to be informed that within the hour many of them would be paupers on a slow train to some Far Eastern Territory, likely the first of the new Gulags. In fact the first group assembled in the Volgograd Government Kremlin would wet their teeth upon these Economic Enemies of the State, demonstrating for their President the abilities of the Cheka to handle vast sums of money and dispose of undesirables. The economic assets of these doomed business men would be stripped of them and injected by the President into the lucky few Corporations to be spared or to national projects such as Industrial Growth or Infrastructure.


Astrakhan
Several Days Later

Down the Volga River from the Capital, President Dmitri Siloviki met secretly with the leaders of his Political Committee that was to assign to Pochvennichestvo a tangible political ideology. Already an aggressive public relations campaign for the proposed, “Motherland” Party was being waged by their precursors, the Russian Unity Party. Surprisingly the Communist Party also was promoting Motherland even though they were traditionally allies to none. The assembled committee was to drive this home by assigning a set of ideological points that would make the party appealing to former Soviets as well as Modern Republicans, all the while ensuring that it was authoritarian enough to keep the multi-ethnic and cultural Russian Union State united.

The Political Committee were as silent as they were when their task was delivered to them, all of them unwilling to risk enraging the most powerful man in Russia. When the silence began to stretch on however they quickly realized that inaction was as much of a choice as thoughtless action, and so the committee leader; Professor Arsov, handed the President a copy of the report he was to read. Pausing just long enough for Dmitri to flip said report open, the Professor said,

“After the chaos of initial drafting, the Ideals behind Pochvennichestvo were actually quite easy to determine. The unique history of Russia as well as the natural peasant belief in the immorality of wealth allows the Russian Union State to take heavily from Marxism-Leninism while the development of our various Corporations and their level of autonomy allows us to maintain the most positive aspects of the Free Market. The liquidation of the Nobility and the recent destruction of the majority of the Nation’s Oligarchs has provided us with enough funds for not only nation-critical projects like infrastructure, but also enough to make the launching of a new political party an easy affair.

First and foremost the nationalization of critical industries and the protection of our domestic markets must be achieved by the end of this year. This is to protect us from the expected Layartebian counter to our projection into Iran, that is to say, economic isolation similar in nature to the Soviet Era. A drastic increase in exports to our Moton allies and the Republic must be made a matter of priority within our Foreign Trade Ministry to counter balance the loss of exports to Western Europe, the Cottish Realm, and the Empire of Layarteb. The only Nation-State which we have failed to plan for sufficiently is the United States of Brink, an economic powerhouse that has little to no impact on the Russian Economy due to lack of communication.

The general points of our new, “Motherland” Party can best be summarized as follows:

Centralization of the State and Top Down Authority is necessary for the stabilization of society. Religious movements must be destroyed just as Political Parties outside of the Motherland Party must be crushed, put simply. The Church in the past has proven to be able to command and rally the simple rural worker to their side, something that could conceivably mark them as an antagonistic agent towards the Party and Government. To facilitate the destruction of the various Political Parties we suggest outlawing them temporarily in the name of promoting unity across the board. In time this can be made permanent. The final suggestion this committee would like to offer is that the Combined Federal Duma be dissolved at the soonest possible time. Obviously this final act must be stalled until the necessary Organs are in place.

State Capitalism with a focus on developing domestic Companies and a hostile stance towards powerful Western Cartels is also considered a critical field, as we have mentioned this is to prevent economic destruction at the hands of the Western Powers. Our current Industry is largely a relic of the Soviet Union, this in itself must be rectified with an aggressive campaign to construct new Industries. We believe that providing necessary incentives such as lowered taxes for small firm factory owners will help kick start the new Russian Industrial Growth.

Aggressive Intervention in the name of preserving National Interests must also be considered, to a level that is similar to that of the Moton Empire. Our Allies have acted throughout their histories in the name of their own interests, without fear of the west. This we have concluded is a most enviable characteristic of that society in regards to foreign affairs and as such should be imitated by the Russian Union State. National Interests at present are the destruction of Radical Islamic States, the industrialization and modernization of the Russian Economic Sphere, as well as the construction of a powerful and flexible Russian Navy that allows for force projection to any corner of the globe.

Pan Slavic Nationalism must also be promoted by the Party and State, since the Slavic Ethnic Group is the largest ethnic group appealing to their sense of ethnic pride will generate enough stability to counter-act the instability spawned by our move away from Western Democracy. On this note we have found that the establishment of a Union wide Police Force that is not strictly dealing with criminal affairs is a must. For lack of a more imaginative name this Committee has determined that said Police Force should be known simply as the, “Political Police” their duty would be limited to quashing rebellion and controlling the spread of Political Ideologies that are outside of the Motherland Party.

It can also be determined by the study of history that no powerful nation is landlocked. While the Russian Union State can claim only regional power status, it cannot grow to become anything more until it can boast a powerful Navy. The State of the Russian Navy and the Russian Air Force are also a point of concern, while improvement of a specific segment of the Military is hardly a political affair, the belief that education must be promoted by the Party is. Education and the Youth are to be placed as the highest concerns of the Russian Union State's Interior Ministry, though the same Ministry should also move to entice Expats back from our known ethnic enclaves in Brighton Beach and the like.”

The President nodded slowly, the words of the Professor were all things that the President's own Staff had determined. They all coincided with Dmitri Siloviki's grand vision for his Nation and the vision of the Politburo that was made up of literally every Government Leader in the Union State. The Committee had only reinforced the idea that these were all sound moves. Already the necessary agencies were being motivated by Dmitri Siloviki's aides who had been listening to the briefing. Rapidly the Russian Union State was moving away from the Western Ideal of Democracy and towards the Single Party Authoritarian State that was thought to be a relic of the Soviet times. Instead of championing the cause of International Revolution the New Russia was championing the cause of Pan Slavic Unity and the growth of Russia as a powerful Nation. The twenty first century for the rest of the world began on New Year's Day of 2000, for Russia however it began with the consolidation of Dmitri Siloviki's Regime. The era of the Soviet Union was finished, in favor of a new time, a new era, Novaya Russia.


Azerbaijani-Iranian Border
November 5th


Twenty dirt covered men slowly inched forward towards a well concealed communications trailer. The olive drab unit was attached to what was suspected was an enemy SAM site, a location that would have to be destroyed before the Russian Union State Air Force could begin it’s planned strikes against nearby Persian Formations. The Uranium gifted to the Chechens was being treated as an act of warfare, something that was not made known to the Iranians or even the great masses of Russian Citizens; yet. The covert Septsnaz Assault on this SAM site and the dozens of other identical operations however would be the first act in what was already expected to be the largest and most desperate struggle in Russian Union State History.


The War against Alaska was hardly a struggle, a one sided engagement against incompetent generals and ill equipped or prepared enemy units. Persia however was another story, with a competent military, an abundance of supplies, and battle hardened veterans, the Islamic Republic could prove to be a tough nut for the Russian Union State to crack. Because of this, the Ministry of Defense planned an aggressive Air Campaign that would hopefully reduce the Persian Military to a shadow of it’s present state. All highways leading towards the capital save one would be reduced to impassable quagmires, all bridges not on the main Russian Offensive’s path would be destroyed; Civilian and Military Hospitals, fuel Depots, and communications centers would be bombed, all in the name of making a Persian Defensive unsustainable. Before that could take place however Russia would need to snip the talons of the Persian Military, they would need to destroy AA and AAA sites near the border.



As the Spetsnaz Unit closed on the Persian Position, an unaware sentry moved directly towards them. The Spetsnaz froze, every muscle becoming tense, every man silently calculating the odds of killing the lone man without alerting his fellows prematurely. Opting to use stealth instead of violence, the first man in the stack allowed the Sentry to go as he will instead of killing him. The Persian moved straight past the patrol and into the forest, soon enough the last man in the column had eyes on and saw that the sentry was relieving himself. Slowly the message was conveyed via impromptu hand motions and the Unit slowly continued to move towards what was thought was the coordinator of an S-300 Missile Battery.



The lead man came upon the battery several minutes later, observing from the safety of the undergrowth. Arranged in a large L , the battery was in a clearing in the dense woodland near the Azerbaijani border. Waving his Comrades forward, the lead man waited for the other nineteen men to take up firing positions before focusing on assessing what other assets the enemy had. Taking time to jot down in a small notepad with a grease pencil, the Spetsnaz Soldier counted twenty enemy crewmen along with two S-300 Systems. The Communication trailer obviously was doubling as a Section Command Post because there was one obviously green Officer within who insisted on being saluted every few seconds.



Silently and slowly the two Marksmen of the Unit were informed of the High Priority Target the Officer and his Communications Specialist offered. It was a difficult shot however and both men signaled back that they could not make it. Opting to isolate the leader and his possibility for calling in reinforcements, the Spetsnaz instead moved forward a man armed with several flash-bang grenades. He was instructed to move in and deploy his weaponry upon the Officer and the Communications Specialist while the rest of the Unit suppressed the other Persian Soldiers. Once all of his men were positioned, the Spetsnaz Unit’s Lt. started the ambush with two shots from his “Abakan” Rifle. The two rounds smacked into the side of one of the Persian Soldiers, wounding him severely as well as signaling a torrent of gunfire. The Grenadier moved forward and deployed his flash bangs before being joined by three other men. The four man stacked then breached the small trailer, killing the Officer and severing the Battery’s link to higher.



The one sided firefight lasted around ten minutes, the Spetsnaz eliminating the Persians with ease due to the advantage of surprise and superior positioning. Each S-300 System was then destroyed or disabled and the enemy’s small arms collected and ruined with a single HE Grenade. Deeming the raid a success, the Unit’s Lt. radioed back to Command which relayed the transmission to the waiting Aerial Assets. Immediately the Russian Air Force began to prepare it’s first of many sorties against the enemy’s units that were near the border. This first raid was an inglorious massacre, but the conflict it triggered would be remembered throughout Russian History.

***

As soon as words of the first strike was relayed back to the Russian Union State Military, other strikes were prepared or in some cases given the green light. Spetsnaz teams knocked off isolated AA and AAA Units much like the first, however the Strategic Submarines and Russian Navy in the Persian Gulf fired numerous cruise missiles that struck most of the known Persian Airfields and Supply Depots in southern Iran. By focusing the most noticeable firepower upon the south, it was hoped that the Persian Military could be tricked into thinking that there would be a Naval Landing in said region; pulling the best of the enemy's units into that area. Regardless of weather the ruse worked, the Russian Naval Infantry did in fact force a beachhead near the city of Bushehr. The heroic Naval Infantry could not hold that position however and after six hours of fierce combat were withdrawn via helicopter. This force suffered what was estimated to be around one hundred fifteen casualties, later confirmed to be just under seventy. The damage to the Persian defense however had been done, with the momentary shift of focus to the south, the Russian Air Force was able to strike several moving columns and continue the hunt for the few aerial assets the enemy had hidden away.

While the Russian Army was more than confident that it could begin the offensive now, the Air Force was able to force the Minister of Defense to give them a five day window, a window in which they would proceed to ravage the northern regions of Iran. Bridges, Hospitals, Schools, Supply Depots, Factories, all were located via aerial observation and satellite imagery, then they were placed on a massive and ever expanding target list. For the rest of the week the Russian Air Force, Naval Aviation, and Army Air Support Wing, all focused one hundred percent of their energy on hitting these targets. Using primarily “dumb” bombs, the Russian Air Force and Military in general had received only one directive from Higher regarding Persian Civilians and Non Military or “Soft” targets; “Remember the Grozny Incident”!

The Russian Navy also in this time was hunting out and methodically destroying the Persian Naval Force. Already the three SSK Kilo Class Submarines that the Persians maintained had been isolated into twenty five kilometer areas, areas which were steadily shrinking as Anti-Submarine Aircraft slowly passed overhead. The rest of the Persian Submarine Fleet was believed to have been destroyed in harbor by the cruise missiles of the Russian Navy, though it was known that at least one enclave that included the Destroyer; Babr, had survived. The rest of the 1970s era ships along with their Frigate and Corvette companions are also believed to be destroyed or severely damaged by a combination of precision aerial strikes and the Russian Navy's barrage of missiles earlier in the day.

Persian counterattacks at sea so far had been generally lacking in momentum, though the few aerial assets that had survived were able to bloody the Russians a bit. Two Mig-29s were in fact lost to a Persian squadron of Mirage fighters which were in turn decimated by a squadron of Russian Pak Fa fighters. This being the only dogfight to occur on the first day of operations forced Russian Military Planners and Officers to conclude that the Persian Air Force was either damage so severely by the initial bombardment that it could not offer resistance, or that assets that had survived had been pulled back to protect the population centers and Staging Points within Persia. The latter proved to be true as the Russian Union State lost another Mig-29 to Persian Fighters near Tehran. This prompted the Russian Air Force to cease all long range raids into the country and instead devote their entire focus to holding and bombing the regions already cleared.

Of primary concern to the Russian Army's Military Planners was not the Persian Air Force nor it's Ground Force, rather it was the Bell AH Super Cobras that Persia was rumored to posses. While they alone could not stop a Russian Offensive, they could ensure that the RUS paid for the yards they took. To combat this risk SOF as well as Aerial Intelligence Units were contacted and given orders, they were to locate these helicopters and several other known threats, and designate them for bombing; courtesy of the Strategic Air Arm that was on standby. It was also suspected that several low yield nuclear weapons or “Dirty Bombs” similar to the one used in the Grozny Attack were still held by the Islamic Republic's Military. Location and destruction of these was given over to Asset P Special Forces working in conjunction with Airborne and Spetsnaz Units.

Overall the first day of military action against the Islamic Republic of Persia was one in which the Russian Military achieved strategic dominance of the Border Zones through the use of SOF and Aerial Assets. The feint to the south was a notable part of the opening moves of the chess game, but the Persians demonstrated their tenacity by driving the invaders back into the sea. Regardless of any momentary advantage, all Russian Military Personnel agreed that the struggle before them would be long, hard, and brutal.

[Layarteb]

August 3, 2011 - 08:38 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Shemiran, Tehran, Iran
Sa'dabad Palace
(35°49'1.00" N, 51°25'24.43" E)

The drumming sound of the helicopter filtered out the raging gun battle below, where AK-74s, RPKs, and PKMs were being fired with such rapid intensity that the air was harmful even to gnats should any have been flying around the presidential palace. A burst of gunfire from the helicopter's light machine gun cut down an RPG-gunner on the roof of the palace and saved the hulking piece of metal from a fiery yet heroic demise. "Great work!" The uniformed general said, slapping the back of the machine gunner. "The revolution is strong in you!" He added, speaking Farsi with an accent that suggested he had a privileged upbringing. The door gunner nodded in appreciation but kept his eyes on his sector, maintaining his sharp discipline. This helicopter, a Mi-17 Hip, was carrying a very precious cargo, a senior VIP in the country, General Amjad Haji Saoshyant, who had, only three days earlier, been the country's highest general and chief of the entire Persian Armed Forces.

A lot had happened in the past seventy-two hours. The Persian Army along the Azerbaijani border had just been beaten back from another failed incursion against the Russians. The border skirmishes between the two nations had far from decreased since the Persian military gained final control over western Iran, where fundamentalist groups had all but claimed the region for their own Sharia-like state. Thanks to a Layartebian, clandestine, black war, most of the groups had been outright destroyed. The Persians took care of the mess left in the Empire's wake. In early June, the final Layartebian forces left western Iran and the Persians came in days later, claiming victory on June 14. Unfortunately, that was five days after the Islamic fundamentalist terrorist group, Al-Shams, announced their presence to the world as a multinational, fundamentalist, terrorist group. They named many of the worlds' nations as their enemy, Russia and the Empire being at the forefront of their misguided, irrational, religious-based hatred.

Since then, the Empire had shifted its attention to tracking this group and determining just how deadly they were and how multinational they really were. The results were frightening and in the midst of this, the Ministry of Intelligence began to pay less and less attention to Persian politics. They were surprised to find out that the Persians and the Russians continued to trade the errant shot here and there across the Azerbaijani border. After the latest failure, President Khudhur sacked his generals, including General Amjad Haji Saoshyant, the head of the Persian Armed Forces. President Khudhur shuffled the military up on August 1 and thought he was in the clear. Arrest warrants were issued for fourteen of the country's top generals and colonels. Persian state police forces had limited success, making only two arrests by the morning of August 3. They were never prepared for what came at dawn.

Persian military forces, loyal to the sacked generals, executed a powerful and daring dawn raid against the presidential palace and other key, government buildings around Tehran. The military coup mainly pitted Persian military forces against the Persian state police. The fighting was intense everywhere but it wasn't destined to last long, especially since the military had access to air and ground support. Hip and Hind helicopters flying air support for ground forces equipped with armored personnel carrier and tanks had been the biggest undoing to Persian state police. The level of gunfire at each battle site was something nobody in Tehran had ever witnessed before. The city was paralyzed with fear as the police forces struggled to gain a handle on the situation around them.

At the presidential palace, things had gone from past to worse in the past forty-five minutes. Military forces had breached the outer perimeter, bypassed machine gun nests, and they had even taken out the police forces' heavy weaponry, which was, more or less, anti-tank missile and rocket launchers. Persian soldiers pushed hard and the police forces guarding the presidential palace were now in a constant state of retreat. Sworn to protect their leader, President Khudhur, many of them would die for him during the course of the afternoon as the soldiers advanced without any regard for their own lives. This was a military coup and the soldiers fighting had been forced to make a choice, they could support the president and die or they could support the generals and live. If they performed anything less than spectacularly, they were going to find themselves before a firing squad for "high treason."

As the helicopter neared the ground, the air filled with dust, dirt, and smoke. The helicopter was only a few meters above the ground when it had gone into a hover and within a minute, the helicopter gently touched down onto the green grass of the Sa'dabad Palace's courtyard. The rear ramp was lowered and General Amjad Haji Saoshyant stepped out of the helicopter, his uniform as flawless as if he had just put it on his body. With a great stride, he left the area of the helicopter and found the command post for his men. Salutes were exchanged and General Saoshyant was given a brief status update, which he proclaimed as excellent success. The troops pushed up and he followed them. President Khudhur was confirmed to be in the White Palace, which was barely eighty meters from where the helicopter had landed to let General Saoshyant into battle. "I want that palace by the end of the hour," General Saoshyant screamed to the commanding officer, who knew that such pressure was counterproductive but knowing that he had no other choice, he saluted and agreed. Twenty minutes later, in accordance with General Saoshyant's wishes, the White Palace had fallen.

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August 3, 2011 - 09:17 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Shemiran, Tehran, Iran
White Palace
(35°48'58.17" N, 51°25'26.17" E)

President Khudhur sat cowering and restrained on a sofa. His hands were handcuffed in front of him and he had three rifle barrels aimed at his head and torso and all of them from a range of less than ten meters. At that range, none of the three soldiers could miss and President Khudhur would be lying in a pool of his own blood before his mind ever processed what was happening. The three men guarding him thought about it too and the looks on their faces screamed one thing, Go ahead! Give us a reason to do it! Outside, the fighting died out as Persian state police forces crumbled, some surrendering and others dying. The military had clearly won this battle, hands down and General Saoshyant was proud of the forces that he commanded. "You have all done Persia a great and unmatched success," he said to his troops. "Today is a new day for Persia," he was walking towards where President Khudhur was being held. "Our future is a future or great wealth and strength whereby the whims of those inept and incapable of leading are sidelined to competent and worthy men who lead Persia with their hearts."

General Saoshyant entered the room and everyone snapped to a salute, even those watching President Khudhur. General Saoshyant returned the salute and beamed, "Today you are the sons of Persia, the heroes of a nation that has been captured by this man." He pointed to President Khudhur. "Mister President," General Saoshyant said as he stood in front of and towered over President Khudhur. "Your actions these past few days have been in complete contradiction to the desires of the Persian people. You have led Persia astray and weakened the military beyond any reasonable shadow of a doubt. In doing so, you have opened the door for fundamentalist groups to rise again and also for the Russians to invade us. I, General Amjad Haji Saoshyant, hereby declare you to be in contravention of the Constitution of Persia and I hereby remove you from power. You will stand trial in six days for corruption and high treason against the Persian people and nation. Take him to the helicopter and make sure to respect him on the way."

Cheering filled the air around the White Palace as President Khudhur was led out, to the helicopter. General Saoshyant was in tow, beaming with joy as he had now taken over the country. Later in the afternoon, when the final shots were traded between the state police and the troops, General Saoshyant would go on live television and announce that he was assuming control over the Islamic Republic of Persia. He cited the charges against President Khudhur and that he would stand trial on August 9 for his crimes. If he were to be found guilty, he would be executed in Azadi Square by hanging, for all of Persia and the world to see. He declared the Islamic Republic of Persia to be a superpower.

Things were growing bad for the world with this latest development. General Saoshyant appointed himself as the chief executive of the country, Lieutenant General Bashar as his second-in-command, and Major General Omar Abdullah to the position of chief of the Persian Armed Forces. Both of these men received promotions and they had previously been sacked by the former president. The Empire already had their suspicions about Abdullah, who had come to Incirlik with Asar al-Baaqer. Al-Baaqer was now in Layartebian custody and remained there. Al-Baaqer and his men had been plants for Al-Shams before they were ever Al-Shams. Caught in the act, the Empire had kept it quiet and swept it under the rug for the time being. Al-Baaqer and his men were never seen from or heard from again and the official story to the Persians was that they had gone rogue and disappeared into the streets of Adana. They were, by all manner of the world, AWOL. The military bought the excuse because that was the best they could prove but Major General, now Lieutenant General Omar Abdullah also had his suspicions that they had been kidnapped by the Layartebian military. The Empire believed that Abdullah was either aware of their mission or he had been the one to give it to them.

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August 9, 2011 - 10:00 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Kooy-e-Mehrzad, Tehran, Iran
Persian Supreme Court House
(35°39'27.75" N, 51°19'44.40" E)

Security at the Persian Supreme Court House was as high as if the Emperor himself were visiting. A military cordon of the area around the courthouse had redirected traffic as far away as four hundred meters from the courthouse and over five hundred soldiers stood guard around the courthouse, the streets, and the Qaem Park, which was closed to civilians during these trial proceedings. The trial, broadcast for the entire world to see had begun on time at 09:00 hours. Forty-seven hundred meters north-by-east in the Azadi Square, military forces had already set up a blockade and were constructing the gallows. It seemed apparent that they knew the outcome of the trial even before it finished, something that was passed on to the Ministry of Intelligence through their assets and agents on the ground in Tehran. Carefully, the Empire watched the situation, putting all of its assets in Turkey and the United Arab Emirates on high alert with maximum readiness.

The Islamic Republic of Persia had undergone a dangerous transformation in a very short amount of time and there was no shock in the ranks of the Empire when General Saoshyant made several announcements condemning the Empire's actions in western Iran. In doing so, he set off a firestorm back in the Empire. The clandestine war that the Empire had waged against the fundamentalists in western Iran had been a secret black operation in the Empire. Now the secrecy of that operation was being jeopardized by General Saoshyant and his new, Persian government. The Ministry of Intelligence scrambled to run damage control but the media already harped on the story. The Emperor was less than pleased but he knew that this wasn't the doing of the Ministry of Intelligence. The MOI hadn't botched any part of the operation; General Saoshyant had been the one to squeal. He did so in order to garner anger amongst the Persians and it was used as evidence against President Khudhur for the charges of treason. It was also picked up by Al-Shams, who, to date, remained curious who had swept through the camp of the ABJ and annihilated them.

When the trial began, it was obviously a show trial. Media reporters from around the world gathered in special zones under military guard. They reported what they saw and those who reported anything unfavorable were quickly removed from the courthouse and shipped out of the country. Two Layartebians reporters were amongst eighteen reporters dismissed on the first day. It was quite obvious that the regime General Saoshyant had put in place was going to be a repressive regime that squashed anyone who spoke out against it. Rumors and reports of secret police forces rounding up "sympathizers with President Khudhur" were flowing into the MOI in such volume that it was hard to disregard them. Agents and assets on the ground had watched police vehicles move throughout Tehran and other major cities at night, stopping in front of residences, and emerging with handcuffed and hooded people.

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August 11, 2011 - 11:20 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Kooy-e-Mehrzad, Tehran, Iran
Persian Supreme Court House
(35°39'27.75" N, 51°19'44.40" E)

"Guilty!" The words echoed loud across the silent courtroom. Camera flashes went off and reporters scribbled notes. The sound of shutters opening and closing echoed along with the judge's words. President Khudhur, dressed in a suit, stood shocked and defeated. His lawyer stood along with him and shook his head.

"We request an appeal." His lawyer said and no sooner did he say the words then the judge shot back at him, his finger pointed right at President Khudhur.

"This man has been found guilty beyond any reasonable doubt of corruption of his office and high treason against the Persian people and government. He is a condemned man who will die by hanging. This court will not waste any more tax dollars to reprove this man's guilt." The judge slammed his gavel and stood up, everyone in the court standing as well. Armed soldiers took President Khudhur away in handcuffs and leg irons. By then, his face was in his hands and he was crying.

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August 11, 2011 - 19:20 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Tehran, Iran
Azadi Square
(35°41'58.91" N, 51°20'15.63" E)

Thousands of people gathered at Azadi Square but only where the military let them stand. Hundreds of soldiers stood guard around the square, all of them armed with assault rifles or light machine guns. Vehicles formed checkpoints around the square and traffic was yet again diverted away by military personnel. By stark contrast, over a thousand men stood guard around Azadi Square, double the amount than at the courthouse. President Khudhur had been found guilty and this was to be his execution, which would be visible for all and the whole world to see. Those gathered cheered with excitement but it was doubtful that many of them truly believed in what they cheered. Having assault rifles all over the place could be pretty persuasive in forming an opinion and military officers in special uniforms had been walking through the crowd, ensuring that everyone was there to support the death of the traitor president. Nobody told the military otherwise and when President Khudhur was brought up the steps of the newly constructed gallows, he did so to a deafening roar throughout the crowd.

It was at the top of the gallows that a breeze blew through the hot but dry air. The sky above was clear and the sun was setting to the west. President Khudhur couldn't help but notice all of this as he was minutes away from death. A condemned man since earlier in the morning, when the sentence had been officially read, he had received his last meal and his final wish. He wanted to make a statement to the people of Persia but it was strictly denied by General Saoshyant, who emerged before him at the top of the gallows. "Mister President," General Saoshyant began. He was speaking just loud enough for President Khudhur to hear him but not loud enough for anyone else. "This is what you get for defying the military. Your orders led us to strike the Russian bear and look where it has gotten you. Your treachery is pathetic and unbecoming of a president and for your cowardice you will hang here today."

"General Saoshyant," President Khudhur responded, a smile on his face. "It is you who are the traitor. You, who will go forward and destroy this country, I hope you are prepared for your own hanging because when you attack the Russians, they will not hesitate to come back and bomb this entire country into oblivion. You will be lucky if it is just the Russians. You have betrayed the Layartebians too. You have dug your own grave General and when I am in Allah's house, I will watch down at your failure and when the time comes for you to come to the afterlife, I will ensure that Allah sends you somewhere else." He leaned forward to where his lips were just next to General Saoshyant's ear. "You are saving me the embarrassment that you are about to bring upon yourself, your office, my office, and the people of Persia."

General Saoshyant laughed and he turned to the crowd. He raised his hands and they cheered. "Do you hear that? That is the sound of the people of Persia cheering your execution."

"That is the sound of fear General!" President Khudhur turned too. "If you point a rifle in everyone's face and ask them a question, then they will tell you whatever you want to hear. If you want to live by that truth, your days will be shorter than you believe."

"Save your breath Mister President, you're going to need it in a few minutes." Two soldiers grabbed President Khudhur by the arms, dragged him towards the trap door, and put him over it. An executioner in a black hood but a clean, military uniform approached him and put the slipknot over his neck. He tightened it and produced another black hood from his pocket that he put over President Khudhur's head. "My fellow Persians," General Saoshyant spoke, holding a microphone. Speakers around Azadi Square blasted his voice. Television cameras and microphones picked up the scene and the speech and blasted it all around the world. "This morning, the Persian Supreme Court found President Khudhur guilty of corruption of his office and high treason against the people and the government of Persia. They have affirmed his sentence of death by hanging. You, the people of Persia, deserve to see justice for all that has been taken from you by this man. As the executive of the Islamic Republic of Persia, I hereby affirm the sentence by the Persian Supreme Court.

"President Khudhur," he turned now to the condemned, former President. "You are to be executed by hanging where you will hang by your neck until you are dead." In the background, soldiers were adjusting the rope's length to ensure that he was not decapitated in the process. General Saoshyant wanted him executed but he didn't want it to be a grotesque spectacle that would embarrass his government to the whole world. "May Allah have mercy upon your soul." With that, the executioner released the door and President Khudhur's body dropped with tremendous force. However, the rope tightened and he was caught in mid-air, his neck broken instantly.

Thousands of miles away, the Emperor, who had been watching, commented to those within the walls of his office, "Gentlemen, this is the end of a peaceful Persia. War is coming."

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August 12, 2011 - 13:00 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Pamenar, Tehran, Iran
Shams-ol-Emareh Palace
(35°40'52.71" N, 51°25'14.85" E)

General Saoshyant walked into the room with his senior staffers. The room was decked out for a press conference and it was obvious that the news was going to be big. General Saoshyant was making idle conversation with those around him until he entered the room. A gaggle of reporters stood with respect. Some were visibly fearful of him. The previous night had been a chaotic one for Tehran. Only minutes after the execution of President Khudhur, military forces attacked an entire neighborhood in southeastern Tehran. Claiming that the neighborhood was a hotbed for insurgents plotting to overthrow General Saoshyant in response for President Khudhur's death, military forces killed eighty-two civilians and rounded up another one hundred for arrest. Nobody in the neighborhood could state why it happened nor did they believe the story but it was plainly obvious that someone important was in the neighborhood and General Saoshyant was consolidating his power. It was plain to see how repressive General Saoshyant's regime was becoming.

"You may all sit," General Saoshyant said, a cold smile across his face. "May I begin?" He asked, standing behind a podium. A young technician, barely out of college nodded his pimple-freckled face. "My fellow Persians I come to you today with a glorious and humble announcement. I, General Amjad Haji Saoshyant, am hereby resigning my commission in the Persian Armed Forces. I am an old soldier and I am too old to continue to play soldier." Tears came to his eyes but to any trained eye it was clearly staged. "Younger, smarter, more capable men will follow my example and my lead in the military and I hope that, in time, history will treat me with kindness for the service and sacrifice I made to and for Persia and even for the United Federation of Eurasia, which so humbly bowed out of the world stage years ago. [I]"In doing so, I wish to end my tenure in the military and I will stand further no long as a general and chief executive of the Islamic Republic of Persia. Instead, I will take the democratic title of the leader of our great nation, which is President. In time, when we are scheduled to hold elections again, I shall run for another term and I hope the work I do and the good I accomplish from now until then will merit a second term as President.

"In order to fully and truthfully be the President of the Islamic Republic of Persia my first act of business will be to issue the following statement. In response to the Empire's callous and illegal actions in western Iran, which were conducted at the behest of the traitorous former President Khudhur, I am hereby severing all diplomatic ties with the Empire. I hereby give the Empire an ultimatum. They will have just two days to evacuate their embassy in Tehran and should they not, it would be considered an act of war against the Persian people and we will seize control over this embassy and put all of its occupants on trial for espionage and waging war against the Persian people. I do not wish to go to war with the Empire but should they continue to dishonor and disrespect the Persian people and government and our sovereignty, we will have no other choice!

"Furthermore, I hereby condemn the Russian Union State for their aggressive and violent acts against Persian forces along the Azerbaijani border. It is the RUS who wages armed conflict against the Persian people along the border and it is the desire of the RUS to invade Persia to claim for its own. The RUS wishes to dominate the world with an oil empire and in controlling Persia, its oil fields, and its access to the Indian Ocean, the RUS will turn Persia into its puppet for its cold war against the Empire. Both of these superpowers are nothing more than cowards who stand and sit thousands of miles away and wage war against the Persian people without regard for the consequences of their actions. This ends today!

"People of Persia, rise up against the Empire and against the Russians. They are our enemies and they are the enemies of Islam. The Empire, with their pagan populace and the Russians, with their atheism both wish to convert Persia into a vassal state and both enslave and subjugate its people. The Islamic Republic of Persia shall not serve any Layartebian or Russian masters, not now and not ever!"

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August 20, 2011 - 01:00 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Shahrak Qaem, Tehran, Iran
Mosque
(35°48'44.81" N, 51°31'44.23" E)

President Saoshyant entered the mosque and respected every bit of it. It was very early in the morning and the imam had been given a very large donation to open his mosque to the President. "May Allah bless you tonight." The imam said and President Saoshyant thanked him. "You are not alone tonight. Will you notify me when I can lock up?"

"I shall."

"Thank you," the imam was gone from view in a flash of an instant. Like most Persians these days, he was deeply fearful of the military, the state police, and of course, their leader, President Saoshyant, who had turned the country into a repressive, totalitarian state practically overnight. President Saoshyant walked through the mosque to a back room where he saw no lights on but a candle burning. Someone was inside of the room and he was seated near the candle. A chill came over President Saoshyant as he entered.

"Mister President, please be seated."

"Will we turn on a light?"

"It is best Mister President, if you do not see my face."

"I understand," he said as he took a seat on a cushion. It was comfortable and he crossed his legs to make himself more comfortable. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes Mister President. I am happy you gave us this meeting."

"There are those who say your organization is dangerous and cannot be trusted but I believe otherwise. If you see that we wish to make peace with you and that we do not feel obliged to threaten and attack you, perhaps you will feel obliged to treat us with kindness."

"Persia has been ruled by puppets before, how am I to know you are not one?"

"I have expelled the pagans, have I not? I have put the puppet on trial and executed him according to our law."

"But is Persian Law the will of Allah Mister President?"

"I wish to make it as such."

"Then you may be faithful. You are pious to Allah then?"

"I am." Earlier in the day, President Saoshyant had an argument with one of his aides concerning this meeting. Of course, only one aide knew about it and he had very strong objections for all of the right reasons but President Saoshyant disagreed.

"Then what is it you desire of us? Allow me to hear your proposal."

"Your organization offers us a unique power. The Russians and the Layartebians are our enemies but we lack the ability to fight them. If we assault them then Tehran will burn to ashes. However, your organization is not a state and I know deep in your heart you want to strike both nations and reduce them to cinders."

"We do, yes."

"My military can provide you with money, with weapons, and with bases to practice and train. We can protect your organization and hide it within our ranks offering you the ability to strike into the heart of the Russian bear and the pagan Layartebians. Deniability will protect us and we will protect you."

"Is this not different from using our organization?"

"I do not believe it is since I have no intention to turn upon you and strike back at you for what I want to see myself. It was wrong of the government to purge western Iran of your brothers but in doing so you have been created and you can accomplish much more than they. With our help, you will grow to amazing power. Imagine the potential if a state is using its diplomatic power to protect your organization and its military power to arm it?"

"That is true. You want to enter an allegiance with us but the organization, as a whole, cannot commit to you entirely. We must remain scattered for our own benefit."

"I understand indeed. Then what will we accomplish together?"

"Persia will become a superpower and in doing so we will become a garden for Allah."

"Is this what you want? If it is why do you meet in secrecy?"

"The watchful eyes of the Russians and the Empire remain despite my removing the latter."

"That was a foolish move." President Saoshyant hadn't expected to hear that, especially not from someone from this organization. He was taken aback and looked into the darkness with narrowing eyes, wishing he could see the face of the man who disagreed with him.

"Why?"

"You keep your friends close Mister President but your enemies closer. If we are to make this union, the Layartebians must return, diplomatically. How can we watch them if they are not here? Think of what we need President Saoshyant. The pagans have use to us."

"This is true?"

"It is true. We might hate them to their core but we can use them for some good. We can turn them against themselves and watch as the armies of Allah tear them to pieces between its teeth."

"Then if I were to reverse this, would you agree?"

"It is not my decision to make; I will have to speak with the council."

"How long will it take?"

"One week, can you survive for that long in suspense?"

"I am a military man, I can survive."

"Good, then go out and let the imam know we are done here. Allah will be pleased with this outcome, however it goes."

"Thank you." Quietly, the meeting concluded and President Saoshyant did as he was told. The imam returned, locked up the mosque and found it empty, curious how the second man not only entered but left without his knowledge. He was a ghost, the imam concluded, or was he?

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August 29, 2011 - 12:00 hrs [UTC+4:30]
Shahrak Qaem, Tehran, Iran
Mosque
(35°48'44.81" N, 51°31'44.23" E)

Al-Shams returned their response to President Saoshyant just as they said they would and they agreed. President Saoshyant was using them but, at the same time, unbeknownst to him, Al-Shams was using him just as bad. Al-Shams had big plans for Russia more than they had for the Empire, largely due to proximity. In time though, they would use the diplomatic pull of the Persian government to acquire papers gaining them passage into the Empire where cells would form, recruit, and either attack or gather money for the organization. It all depended on what the council wished but the wheels had been set into motion. As it was, getting into the Empire was no easy task but with diplomatic papers from Persia, they could go much easier. Of course, that was why they had wanted the resumption of diplomatic relations, which began, officially on August 29.

The Layartebian ambassador took his office once again and the embassy was populated. President Saoshyant tried to make amends and, at face value, it was accepted but the Empire was deeply wary of his motives. The MOI decided that its level of surveillance in Persia was insufficient. Thus, that level with see a sharp rise and they had a situation in Persia that was rife for asset recruitment. President Saoshyant's regime had created a fearful society that was all too willing to see a new government come, even if they didn't say it. People kept their heads down and they feared the military. They also feared being watched and the government was watching. If the MOI offered them a way out of the terror of daily life, they would snatch at it and try to get themselves and their families out of the country and to safety abroad, regardless of where it was.

It set the stage for an intense and crazy time in Persian-Layartebian history. Unbeknownst to everyone involved though, the wheels of time had already been set in motion and where they were taking everyone was a road that nobody could return from until it was too late. It was really just a question now of who would suffer the most and when that happened, who would be the first to flinch. With the Empire preparing for eventual conflict with Tehran, President Saoshyant's days were officially numbered and that countdown clock had already begun, even if not to his explicit, conscious knowledge.

[Layarteb]

October 13, 2011 - 14:35 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

The gunfire was unmistakable in the early afternoon hour in Tehran. Whether it was incoming or outgoing remained only a momentary mystery until someone looked out of the window to see a dozen soldiers from the Interior Ministry's Diplomatic Protection Group (DPG). The DPG was a ten-thousand strong force of men who were recruited out of the Imperial Layartebian Army and Marine Corps and tasked with protecting the Empire's embassies abroad as well as its occupants, especially the ambassador and his family, who were considered the priorities in any cataclysmic situation. Armed with some of the better weapons of the Imperial Layartebian Military, they were also given the most difficult decisions, which was whether or not to open fire on hostiles threatening the embassy. Generally speaking, if such a thing were to happen, these men would be firing through civilians towards gunmen and that was a hard call for any soldier or man to have to make.

In some of the safer parts of the world, the DPG might have less than twenty-four men at an embassy. For example, the Empire's embassy to the Senatus Populusque Romae or Roman Empire was just fifteen men, the bare minimum; the Empire's embassy to Cortland had twenty; and the Empire's embassy to the Islamic Republic of Persia had sixty men. Twelve of those men held the line at the front gate, firing shots towards armed gunmen barely a hundred meters away. Inside there was a commotion at first and then an alarm sounded. The alarm was as unmistakable as the gunfire and men and women quickly went into emergency mode. Low-level staffers grabbed whatever belongings they had and made their way to the safe room, which was the basement. From there they would eventually take an underground tunnel to the motor pool, where the DPG would heard them into trucks and spirit them out of the city to a rendezvous point. Higher-level staffers would go about duties destroying sensitive equipment and documents while the Ministry of Intelligence (MOI) core inside of the embassy went into complete crisis mode. The embassy was under attack!

The first and most immediate standard operating procedure (SOP) was to send a coded, encrypted message to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MOFA) in Layarteb City via satellite. That message went out with a burst from the embassy's microwave dish and slammed into a satellite not even a second later, where it was interpreted, and bounced to another satellite on the other side of the Earth. Then it was shot down into the MOFA and being decoded by a supercomputer working faster than the gunmen's hearts. Coded as "FLASH CRITICAL," the message was a preformatted and short template, designed to minimize processing time and maximize information. It was simple and it read "DIPLOMATIC MISSION IN TEHRAN IS UNDER ARMED ATTACK. HOSTILES ARE ASSAULTING THE EMBASSY. WALLS REMAIN UNPENETRATED. DPG IS HOLDING THE LINE. REQUEST CRITICAL PERSONNEL EVACUATION. SUPPLIES NOMINAL. SITUATION DEVELOPING." Less than eight minutes after the message was sent, the Minister of Foreign Affairs was reading the cable and dialing the Emperor at the same time. This was too critical to deliver in person.

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October 13, 2011 - 06:12 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)


"Sir, we've got a crisis in Tehran." The Minister said, his voice heavy with stress as he continued to read the transmission.

"What do we have now? Is it related to Grozny?"

"It could be sir. The embassy is under attack and they are requesting an evacuation of critical personnel."

"How bad is it?"

"The cable didn't give specifics it looks like it only just begun but the embassy will not be able to hold out indefinitely sir."

"Have they identified the hostiles?"

"No sir."

"Alright then here's what we're going to do. I will authorize the evacuation of critical personnel immediately and I will contact the Minister of Defense to get that going but that's going to take some time. It could take twenty-four hours and the people on the ground have to know that they have to hold out there for at least two days. A lot of things can and probably will go wrong with an operation scheduled this hastily. We have evacuation plans for this in the books but they will have to be rapidly updated. Keep the lines of communication to the embassy open and let's make sure everyone there is doing their part."

"Yes sir." The phone call ended and the Emperor stood up and walked to the open doors. He stared out at his receptionist, the newly hired Judy. She was looking as glamorous as ever and he was pleased that he had hired her. She would be a beautiful face for all of his future visitors to see, even when she aged.

"Judy I need the Minister of Defense right now. Tell him the word of the day is 'Nexus' understood?"

"Yes sir," she said as she was dialing the phone. Less than a minute later, while the Emperor was back in his office, she called to him. "Sir I have him but the connection is weak."

"Patch him through."

"Yes sir, you have him now."

"Minister, we have a crisis in Tehran. The embassy is, Minister?" There was static on the line. "Minister do you have me?"

"Yes sir, how am I…received?"

"Broken and stupid Minister where are you?"

"Sir…I…Near…" The call terminated and the Emperor swore in his head, never one to let profanity be heard. It was undignified for a man of his position.

"Judy I need him back."

"Yes sir I'm working on it now."

"Thank you. It's critical."

"Yes sir, he's coming back now. The line is still bad."

"Minister, do you hear me?"

"Yes sir…"

"Flash critical Nexus Minister. Tehran."

"Yes…Understand…Five…" The line cut out again and yet again, the Emperor swore in his head. He exited his office and stood in front of Judy who was shaking her head.

"I'm sorry sir." This was her first crisis and though she was holding herself together, the Emperor could see that the stress was making her want to cry. "There's no connection."

"Judy I understand. It's not your fault take a breath." She did. "This is to be your first of many crises in this office. How you handle yourself today will be a test to your future here. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir."

"Stay calm throughout today because if you do not, then lives will suffer. You are my only link to the outside world right now and I need you to try your damnedest. Get me in touch with Mister Delaney; I need him in this office five minutes ago. Just let him in when he comes up."

"Yes sir." She abandoned her attempts to reach the Minister of Defense again. In the meantime, she put in an urgent and quick call to Delaney, who wasn't at his post. In response, she sent a message to his pager. Though outdated technology, pagers had a purpose here and she coded a simple message that was easy enough to read. It translated to, "Get to the Emperor's office on the double we have a crisis." That code was "911," the emergency telephone number. Had it been "666," it would have meant the Emperor is in direct trouble or under immediate and quantifiable threat. Less than three minutes later, Jack Delaney came running through the doors into the reception room, ignoring Judy, as she waved him into the doors.

"Sir, I got here as fast as I could."

"The embassy in Tehran is under assault. Communication with the Minister of Defense is unreliable right now. Do you know where he is?"

"I believe he is on vacation sir."

"That's right!" The Emperor was irritated now, not because the Minister of Defense was on vacation. After all, this had been something he earned and the Emperor himself urged he take. He was irritated that he forgot about it. "Jack you know my mind is beginning to falter I believe."

"Impossible sir, we're still young."

"That we aren't Jack and you know it." The Emperor walked to the doors. "Judy forget about the Minister of Defense he's in a shoddy area. Get me the assistant minister. He'll be asleep probably. Wake him up."

"Yes sir." The Emperor returned to Jack and gave him a pat on the back.

"Is Force Falcon capable of going to Tehran if need be?"

"We could sir but it'll take us at least the whole day to get there. That's a long flight."

"What team can go?"

"Team three is designated."

From outside of the office, Judy gave a yell, "Sir I have him, the line is clear."

"Thank you Judy." The Emperor held up his hand to Jack and picked up the phone. "Assistant Minister, we have a crisis in Tehran. Are you?"

"Yes sir I am aware, I am awaiting orders."

"Good man! I am ordering the evacuation of critical personnel immediately. I have advised the Minister of Foreign Affairs to keep communication with the embassy open. What are we looking at?"

"Sir, unfortunately this isn't going to be our finest hour but I say that because of the distance. It is a twelve hundred mile flight and five hundred of those are through Persian airspace. We cannot fly helicopters without refueling. We'll have to send in a fixed wing aircraft. If the city is hostile, landing is going to be a chore and we're in a good position to lose the aircraft doing so."

"What are the chances of success here?"

"Less than ten percent sir." The Emperor's face turned to a contorted rage that hid underneath his otherwise diplomatic exterior. "Sir I will give the order though, we have aircraft on the tarmac in Incirlik which can be wheels up in less than an hour."

"Get them in the air then and we'll update them on the situation. Will they need escorts?"

"It would be advised here strongly sir."

"Then they get what they need. We'll coordinate with the DPG on the ground to get the embassy evacuated. Personnel load is unknown at this present time and there will be wounded."

"Sir the problem is if we send more than one plane we're only increasing our chances of failure. We will have a backup on standby but landing two will likely alert the hostiles. Do we know if they are militia or military?"

"Not yet bit with the way that country has been the past three months, the militia is the military. We treat them the same. The city and the airspace will be hostile. Special Forces ought to be flying this one."

"We have them in Incirlik on standby at all times sir. They will be receiving the tasking."

"Very well then, proceed. We must make immediate contingencies though. Should the embassy become captured I want us to have a rescue plan."

"Sir we've got one already."

"Can it be done?"

"Not this soon sir. It'll take at least a week, maybe two. There's a lot of preparation to go into it and everyone's going to be working around the clock. It's ambitious and it's aggressive sir."

"Special Operations the entire way I assume?"

"Yes sir, Delta combined with the air force. It would require tremendous feats though."

"Then let's get the ball rolling. Tell them they have two weeks. If they aren't ready by then we could be facing a mass execution of Layartebian personnel. I have no doubt that if the embassy is captured whomever is responsible will want to make a media frenzy of it immediately. They will take hostages rather than kill our nationals outright but that doesn't mean they'll wait forever."

"Yes sir, I understand." The Emperor hung up the phone and turned back to Delaney, who had taken a seat at the Emperor's behest.

"Are you familiar with the plan?"

"Give me an hour and I will be sir."

"You're my lead on this. Get team three into Turkey as soon as possible."

"Yes sir." Delaney left hurriedly.

[Layarteb]

October 13, 2011 - 22:15 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

"Sir, we have three kilo-india-alpha, seventeen are whiskey-india-alpha." The MOI station chief said into the microphone. He listened to the static on his headphones for a moment before there was a response. "Yes sir, we are ammunition critical. Advise evacuation again?" There was silence. Mortars had begun landing in the courtyard of the embassy only twenty-five minutes earlier forcing the DPG forces to take cover. They were still engaging armed hostiles along the perimeter but they were just about at the edge of combat effectiveness. They had three dead and another seventeen were wounded, some critically. "No we cannot endure that long. Yes will we be overrun by then." There had been issues in Incirlik with the transport. The first aircraft had made it all the way to the Persian border, flying low altitude but a bird strike eliminated one of its four engines and it was forced to turn back. It had put down at a civilian airfield only a few miles from the border and the plane was being guarded by a dozen armed Layartebians now. A second aircraft had taken off only an hour earlier and it was still two and a half hours away. That didn't seem like a long time but with hundreds of militia, armed to the teeth about to break through it was an eternity to wait.

"Yes we are taking heavy fire, mortars are begun dropping in the courtyard. We estimate the force size outside to be in excess of three hundred. The military has denied our request for assistance after numerous requests." There was silence and the MOI station chief was shaking his head. "This is ridiculous," he said to those in the secure communications room of the embassy. "Yes we have initiated crash procedures." He waited, this time for a few minutes while there was nothing but silence on the other end. "Repeat please. Roger I understand, destroy all crypto gear, initiate crash critical destruction. We'll do our best." He turned to those inside of the room. "Second plane's not going to make it for another few hours. Persians have set up fighter patrols. Fucking military is complicit in this I tell you! Destroy everything, we're going to surrender the embassy." There were sad and sullen faces all around but that was the best they could do. The ambassador had agreed and that was it. The emphasis now was on preserving human life, chiefly their own.

In a frenzied fury, those within the embassy walls initiated the final destruction plans. Explosives were used to destroy crypto gear, hard drives were erased clean through mechanical and software methods, and viruses were released onto non-important computers. The virulent software programs would annihilate the computers and anyone else trying to read the hard drive. The DPG were making their final stand, expending the last of their ordinance while a white flag was being hastily made. Their hope was that the militiamen attacking the embassy would at least respect their surrender and not continue to fire upon them. One third of the DPG's force was knocked out of commission and though an incalculable amount of bodies lay around the embassy and its perimeter, there was no telling just how much of a dent was put into their force, which remained adamant outside the walls.

Fifteen minutes later, as more mortars came down, two brave DPG soldiers who, though they were opposed to the surrender carried out the orders of their commanding officer, went to the roof. There, they draped a white flag made of curtains over the front of the building and went back to their positions. The gunfire continued for a short while until they could hear bullhorns ordering the militiamen to cease-fire. In doing so, the DPG soldiers did the same but stood their ground, watching as the militiamen carefully and cautiously entered the front gate and walked towards the embassy. In the dead of night, many of them were dressed in desert camouflage fatigues, likely purchased second hand from the military. They wore scarves over their heads and faces and all of them carried Russian-made assault rifles, chiefly AK-47s, AK-74s, and even a few RPKs. The leader among them clearly stepped forward and walked up to the front door where the ambassador stood with several guards around him. All of them were down to their last magazines and only three of the six still had a full, forty-five rounds left. "You are ambassador, yes?" The leader spoke in bad but passable English.

"Yes I am the ambassador and we are surrendering," the ambassador responded in Farsi that was better than this man's English was. He hoped it would garner some respect from the leader.

"You speak my language then?"

"I do. Will you accept our surrender, we do not wish for more bloodshed."

"Have your men put down their weapons." The ambassador turned to his men and nodded. They lowered them but did not put them on the floor. Everyone was clearly very jumpy. "Will they put them down on the ground?"

"I have asked them yes." The ambassador looked back at them, "But not until you accept our surrender."

"We want hostages, not dead bodies."

"Some of those inside are wounded."

"As are my men! Do they deserve treatment over my men?"

"Please let's stay calm. We wish for medical treatment, the preference is up to you." The leader thought for a moment while the standoff continued. The streets were eerily silent now that the gunfire and mortars had stopped.

"I will accept, we will accept but your men must put down their rifles and be searched."

"Then it must be shaken upon." The ambassador held out his hand and the leader took it and gave him a handshake before issuing orders behind him. "Go ahead, this is about all we can do now." The ambassador's order was accepted and it was then relayed through the embassy's main building. What happened next could only be described as incoherent, raving madness.

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October 13, 2011 - 14:45 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

It had been roughly one hour since the embassy's staff had surrendered and communication had been completely cut off with all personnel within the embassy. Two MOI agents and three assets who had been ordered to get into place to watch the embassy had reported back, via satellite phone, that the situation was dire. Armed militiamen wearing desert fatigues with face scarves had rounded up the staff and blindfolded them, restrained them, and beat a lot of them. It seemed that the women were spared the militiamen's indignation. Still, they were bound and restrained. Some were even gagged by the militiamen who had to number three to five hundred. It was entirely difficult to tell whether they were military or not and none of the MOI personnel would venture any closer. The entire area around the embassy crawled with hostiles and even the Persians were looked at skeptically if they were unarmed. "We must stay and observe this." The lead MOI agent said. "We are the only link to Layarteb City now," he said as they huddled in the darkened living room. They were only a few hundred meters from the embassy with a clear, unobstructed view of it. "We'll rotate on and off. One person on the scope, one on the radio, the other three sleeping, or doing errands. Thirty minutes on the scope maximum. Understood?" Everyone nodded in agreement with the MOI agent.

The three Persian agents weren't loyal to the Persian government, they were loyal to the Empire, and they feared what reprisals would come, primarily from the Empire. They spoke at length while they were awake and contended that whatever was to come was good for neither Persia nor the Empire. The MOI agents agreed. What else could they do? The situation was cut and dry.

Back in Layarteb City, at the Fortress of Comhghall, the Emperor was receiving an update. He wasn't pleased with what he was hearing and he still believed the military was complicit in this, even if they weren't directly fighting it. The reports stated that none of the militiamen appeared to be over the age of twenty-four. They were all "students" but more than likely, they had been armed, trained, and instructed by the military. Nothing happened in Persia anymore without the military's say-so. "Alright so the embassy is gone, we have POWs, how many?"

"Sir, based on the headcount provided, there were sixty DPG guards, the ambassador and vice ambassador, and forty-six staffers. One hundred and eight total. Neither the ambassador nor the vice ambassador brought their family with them yet. This is a relief. Eight of the people are Persian nationals who assist us. There are twelve women in the entire group. We know of three killed, all DPG. A further seventeen were wounded, some critically. Some of those could be dead already. The militiamen haven't provided any sort of medical aide yet." The Minister of Intelligence said.

"Well isn't this peachy. Who do we have on the ground?"

"Sir, two agents, three assets, in total. We have other assets in-country and two more agents but they are not in Tehran yet nor have we ordered them there yet."

"Alright I suppose they're going to be used for something else?"

"Yes sir. If we launch Operation SALT GARDEN then we'll need them for the initial phase of that operation."

"We are going ahead with that plan right now so ensure they are carrying out their tasks."

"I will sir." The Emperor turned to Delaney, the only other person present in the Emperor's office. Delaney had sent Force Falcon Team Three ahead only a few hours earlier.

"What about the advance team?" The Minister of Intelligence was one of the few men in the Empire who knew of the existence of Force Falcon, their true mission, and their leadership. The Emperor was giving nothing away by discussing it here.

"Team Three caught a transport bound for Incirlik at 10:45 hours this morning. It's a ten-hour flight to Incirlik. They'll be on the ground at roughly 05:00 hours, local time, tomorrow morning. What are their orders?" He turned to the Minister of Intelligence. Delaney had read up on the operation plan and signed off on it himself, even if he thought it was a bit too ambitious to be pulled off successfully. There were so many "what-ifs" that he doubted it would be successful. Murphy's Law had a habit of making itself known with military operations.

"We're going to need them to go to Persia. They'll have to transport the Delta operators from the second location to Tehran to get them into position for the assault. We'll need someone to mark off the landing strip as well using infrared strobes."

"I would advise the MOI agents and assets not in Tehran handle that part of the operation. It would be unwise to have my team move all the way there only to have to come back to Tehran. Too much can go wrong."

"That can be arranged and I am in agreement. They will be scouting out the location within the next three days. There are two they have to search and check and they can't do either during the day too easily."

"I am alright with this level of precaution. We have orders to Delta to begin planning and we've handed them the plan but they're the ones who need to approve it and sign off on it. Really we've given them the targets and told them to make it work." The Emperor said, remembering his days in the same outfit during the First Venezuelan Civil War.

"That's what they do best sir," Delaney said, remembering the same days. "What is the estimated force size?"

"Probably a hundred. That's like hitting the city with a thousand men. They'll never know what hit them." The Minister of Intelligence said, proud of the plan. "This is daring though."

"We'll pull it off, we have to." The Emperor said. "We have to prepare for war against the Persians. Too much has happened in too short a time span for this to be coincidence." The Emperor was referring to the Grozny Incident, as it was being called. "Yesterday a bomb goes off in Grozny that salts the city with radioactivity. That radiological device was far too sophisticated for an organization even as deeply seeded as Al-Shams is, and though they took credit, I don't entirely believe they were acting alone. Where the hell would they have gotten radiological elements from?" The Emperor said, knowing there were hundreds of legitimate and illegitimate possible answers to his rhetorical question. "We have to work with the Russians on this one. This isn't a simple car bombing. If it were ask me if I cared, the Russians are an enemy of the Empire and I don't see them ever being our friends but Al-Shams and the Persians constitute a far greater threat. We have laid the groundwork for this day only months ago," the Emperor was referring to the meeting between the Russian President and himself in Iceland just six months earlier.

"Sir that is a careful call to make, are you sure?"

"Yes I am and no I am not comfortable with it either but again what choice do we really have? The Persians have seized our embassy and 'students' or not, the military made sure to let it happen. Somehow, they knew we were coming, that is why they put up fighter patrols along the border with Turkey after our primary plane returned to base. They must have detected it on radar."

"It was flying nap-of-the-earth sir, I think they got lucky if they got lucky at all and didn't just plan on it automatically."

"That is a possibility indeed. What is the status of this plane by the way?"

"It will have to return to Incirlik under its own power sir and it will be a rough ride but the airframe is being made worthy to do it."

"Good, I'm just glad no one was hurt."

"The Hercules is a venerable aircraft sir."

"I know. I've flown in them through hell and back." The Hercules had been a major transport for the Republic when they had been involved in the First Venezuelan Civil War and it was the preferred aircraft for Special Forces to conduct deep insertions in the jungle. "Tomorrow is another day gentlemen, keep me apprised of the situation and any changes but for now we just have to let things work their way out. The Persians are refusing our diplomatic requests right now citing that they are 'getting a first-hand account of the situation' and they will advise us but they are just stalling. They know we have men on the ground watching and it's my bet they're looking for them right now."

[Layarteb]

October 14, 2011 - 05:15 hrs [UTC+3]
Adana, Turkey
Incirlik Air Base
(37° 00' 07" N, 35° 25' 33"E)

Incirlik was a hive of activity. The MC-130J Combat Shadow II that had landed after the bird strike had just landed back at the base. Emergency crews had been dispatched just in case but they weren't needed and that aircraft was taxiing into a repair hangar on the other side of the base. The second, which had taken off only to be stopped midflight and ordered to return to base (RTB) was now just one of three operational MC-130Js at the base. The plan for Operation SALT GARDEN required six aircraft, three for the first day, and three for the second. It also called for three KC-130J Super Hercules tankers, which would have to be flown into Incirlik from Cottish Lithuania, and eight CV-22C Ospreys, which would have to be flown from Incirlik down to the United Arab Emirates. For now, the air force was going to play a shell game, arbitrarily moving around aircraft just to keep surveillance on its toes. The Empire played this game constantly with the Russians, Bavinese, Hi No Motons, and anyone else who was watching the Empire's many bases.

Just behind the wounded MC-130J came a C-5M Super Galaxy, having flown on a routine and regular flight plan. One flew from North America to Incirlik every day and arrived between 04:00 and 06:00 hours, local time, every day. It brought all sorts of supplies from mail to ammunition to fresh bodies. On this particular morning, it brought eight men who were dressed in the standard air force uniforms. They all carried standard issue rucksacks and no weaponry. To anyone's eye, regardless of whether they were trained or not, they were fresh recruits, each one wearing the insignia of a private first class or a corporal. In reality, their ranks were significantly higher than what their insignia stated. In the fury of early morning activity, they vanished from sight and now forklifts began to offload the many pallets from the transport. One such pallet would be moved to a special area of the base, which was a highly restricted area for specially authorized personnel only.

This part of the base was essentially the Empire's Joint Special Operations Center in theater. Established after the United Federation of Eurasia collapsed, it was a subdivision of the Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC), which was headquartered in Virginia. The pallet arrived only minutes after the eight men from Force Falcon Team Three, who bypassed their way through security individually and at scattered intervals and all assembled in the main briefing room where a major with JSOC briefed them. "Gentlemen, you are some badass people aren't you?" The major said with a smile. He was an armchair soldier but he was a brilliant planner because he knew how to treat Special Forces operators. However, he had never received anyone with this deep of a cover. The dossier said they were with the Ministry of Intelligence but he didn't believe it. The MOI always provided cover names and these men came with no names.

"What is this?" The team leader said, curious and agitated. He yawned a moment later and eyed the major. "We've been on a plane for sixteen hours now c'mon with the hero worship. What the hell is going on?"

"You're going into Iran. We have to get you across the border and sooner rather than later. Problem is the Persians have set up fighter patrols all along their airspace here and here," he walked over to a map, ignoring the festivities that had transpired earlier. The men followed with him and he pointed out the locations on the map. "In reality, this is about as helpful as a stovepipe jam. Our original plan was to insert you via HAHO but that is too risky."

"You're damn right it is."

"That's why I canceled it." The men were taken aback that this armchair soldier had actually done something logical. Not many planners did, let alone officers. "If I wouldn't risk it, why should you? We need a new insertion and we have to do it tonight. You have to be over the border the minute the sun goes down because you've got a long drive ahead of you. It's about five hundred miles to Tehran and we need you there by the time the sun comes up, which gives us not that much time."

"We'll drive; do we have contacts in western Iran?"

"Yes we do some very trustworthy ones who helped us a few months back with the pesky ABJ. They're still willing to help. They're good Muslims, they don't forget help when it's given to them and they're about as thrilled with President Saoshyant as we are. Their only saving grace is that because of where they are the Persian military isn't very focused on them. Most of the military is around the major cities, the closest being Tabriz. We can bypass Tabriz all together."

"We can and it'll add another fifty miles to your trip. The roads aren't so great so if you can average forty-five miles per hour through the rough parts and a clean sixty through the main parts you ought to be there in eleven hours or so. This is about the best you can really do. I'd suggest going through the border here, on highway E90. That's a checkpoint of course but we have some Persian drivers who can get you in easily."

"What's the cover?"

"The cover is that they're transporting medical supplies. They'll have papers, a big container truck, and plenty of money for a bribe. You can count on the Persian military to be corrupt as balls gentlemen."

"Good." The team leader was otherwise impressed so far. "They'll get you about a hundred miles to a safe house in Mamaghan. It's not far south of Tabriz but you'll be safe there. You'll link up with an MOI agent using the cover name 'Chester' and procure three vehicles. He'll lead you the rest of the way to the safe house outside of Tehran. It's too dangerous to go into Tehran right now otherwise we'd bring you right there. We have a safe house looking over the embassy. The people there in Mamaghan are good with us. The family wants out of Persia and we told them that if they help us and we pull this off we'll smuggle their whole family out of Persia. They want to go to Florida. Could you imagine anyone wanting to go to Florida? That's how desperate they must be. The man's name is 'Nasir' and they helped us a few months ago until the Persian Army thwarted our plans and we were forced to abort. We've kept in contact with them since then."

"Alright that is solid. Looks like JSOC isn't sitting on their asses on this one?"

"Not this time. We'll get you to the border soon. We've got a 'training' flight going out that way in about six hours. Until then, I've got a room with all of the maps and tasking order. Do what you want there's a few cots in there; not very comfortable but if you lay on your side it's at least better."

"Thanks major." The team leader offered his hand, they shook, and Team Three entered the safe room and began to go over their operations plan. By then, their specialized pallet had arrived and on it was an entire armory full of weaponry, ammunition, rations, and equipment that all cost a lot of clandestinely-appropriated money.

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October 14, 2011 - 13:20 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
MOI Safe House, 80 meters SSW from the Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 24.31" N, 51° 25' 24.03" E)

"Well what do we have here?" The lead MOI agent said aloud as he peered through the spotting scope, eyeing the captured Layartebian embassy. "Mahmud, come here and look through here." He called to one of the assets. "Recognize him?" Mahmud, which was the cover name of one of the MOI assets, stepped up to the scope and peered through it, his bushy eyebrows crunching against the scope's eyepiece. The MOI agent, who went by the cover name of "David" leaned back against the wall and pulled the pad over to him. He picked up the pencil, checked his wrist, logged the time, and wrote down what he saw. "Anything?"

"Oh he's important that's for sure. He's got a BTR-80 and what eight bodyguards, two crew on the vehicle? Yeah he's important. A colonel."

"Interesting, do we know his name though?"

"Never heard of him but his last name is Najafi. He might be someone recently promoted or something. He looks like a Special Forces type."

"How can you tell?"

"He doesn't hide the patch on his sleeve very well," Mahmud said as he laughed and returned the scope back to David. "Why's a colonel visiting the embassy"

"Better question, why is he hugging the leader?"

"Military's part of it. We knew it."

"This might not be incontrovertible evidence but it'd hold up in court." David continued to watch as he furiously scribbled down notes about the situation. Colonel Najafi and three of his bodyguards disappeared into the building while the remaining five stood guard outside. The militiamen were way too comfortable with their presence and that gave a lot away. "Well I can guarantee he's not visiting to negotiate a release, not with that exchange."

"Makes me wonder who was firing the mortars."

"Wasn't local folk."

"No it wasn't." They continued to watch for another fifteen minutes, which was when Colonel Najafi and his bodyguards emerged. Hugs were exchanged once more and the soldiers boarded their BTR-80, backed out of the embassy, and headed away. "Well that visit is over, let's see what they do. And just when I thought this was going to be a boring day of babysitting." Mahmud chuckled a little and lit a cigarette. He offered one to David but he denied, not wanting the glowing ember to be visible on the window ledge. Their apartment had been darkened since the beginning of the siege and the blinds were drawn. They only peaked out of a small hole in the blinds. Otherwise, they stayed away from the windows and whenever anyone left, it was only the Persians who left, which was designed to keep suspicions low.

For about twenty minutes, nothing happened and then, a large commotion swept over the embassy. Several militiamen fired their rifles into the air and the area was once again racked with the sound of automatic gunfire except this time, they were celebrating, as they had done after the embassy had been captured. "Now what could they be celebrating?" David said as he continued to scribble notes. Then, four prisoners were brought outside. "They're bringing some people out. Get the other scope and set it up."

"Okay," Mahmud worked quickly, set up the other scope, and pushed aside the blind to get himself a good view. "Those are Persians."

"Yeah four of the eight Persian workers inside. Recognize them?"

"That man in the front, he is my brother." The Persians were pushed against the wall and instantly David knew what was happening. He regretted ever telling Mahmud to get the scope and he saw tears in the man's eyes. "No I have to watch."

"Mahmud, don't."

"I have to." The Persians were yelled at and they couldn't hear them from where they were but Mahmud was an expert at reading lips. That was why he had been hired in the first place. "He's calling them traitors for helping the Layartebians. He says they're 'pigs' and unworthy of being Persians. They're going to execute them." The leader turned away and Mahmud abruptly stopped. "This is barbarism." He was oddly calm and David found that a bit worrisome. He didn't know what Mahmud would do and though they had no heavy ordinance to stop the execution, David wasn't sure if that mattered. The leader raised his rifle while four other militiamen formed a line and without warning, they let go a burst of automatic fire each. Mahmud collapsed to the ground, crying. David left the scope to try to console the man but there was little that he could do. "Tell me they're all going to die David. Swear it to me or else I'm going down there myself." He was obviously stricken with grief.

"You'll have front row seats Mahmud! I promise you." David wasn't sure if that was going to happen at all.

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October 14, 2011 - 09:30 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

It had been about four and a half hours since the executions inside of the embassy walls. It was the late afternoon in Tehran and the eight men from Force Falcon Team Three were on their way to the border aboard a CV-22C Osprey flying a low-level training sortie. The men had entered inside of a hangar and stayed low until the Osprey was in the air flying, at which point they and their large bags of gear were positioned more comfortably. In Layarteb City, the sun had risen only a couple of hours earlier and it was still the early morning, thanks to the eight and a half hour time difference from Tehran.

The Emperor had received the latest broadcast from the MOI and it mentioned the executions. He shook his head at the barbarism of it and knew that these militiamen were definitely not going to capitulate. They hadn't even posted demands yet, instead they were toying with the Empire. In reality, they were toying with their own fates. "Sir, I have a colonel here for you." Judy stated over the Emperor's intercom. He was inside of his office reading the brief over, particularly interested in the BTR-80's visit. The Emperor picked up the phone and allowed the colonel in, who happened to be escorted by a young looking officer, a first lieutenant by the bars on his service uniform. Despite being young looking, he was a four-year veteran of Special Operations and the ribbons on his chest agreed with that statement, especially the two Purple Hearts and two Silver Stars. The last one he received in May when his unit had gone into Iran and assault the ABJ headquarters.

The Emperor stood and returned the very strict salute the two officers offered him. "Gentlemen, have a seat. Colonel it is an honor to meet with you." The colonel was taken aback a moment. This was the Emperor of arguably the most powerful nation on Earth and by proxy, the most powerful man in the world and he was honored to be a lowly colonel. Something was amiss.

"Sir? I would think it's an honor to meet you."

"Colonel, you lead an organization I served in many moons ago but I only attained the rank of major. Thus I am honored to meet a warrior of higher caliber than myself."

"Thank you sir." The colonel didn't know what else to say. He was the leader of the 1st Special Operations Force, "Delta Force," the premier Special Operations unit in the Empire and about the highest any warrior could attain to before they entered the realm of Black Operations. "You have requested the presence of myself and I have brought along First Lieutenant Duncan if that is acceptable."

"It is fine colonel. We don't have to stand on ceremony. Rank never mattered back then and it still shouldn't, even amongst officers." The colonel relaxed. The Emperor had been a Delta operator but that was a sort of open secret and he was surprised to hear the Emperor confirming it himself. "Your unit is going to be taking the initiative on SALT GARDEN and I want your assessment. I don't care what, I want the truth colonel."

"It's a complicated plan sir. There are about a thousand things that can and likely will go wrong sir."

"So I've been told. Lieutenant what is going to be your role in this?"

"I'm leading it sir."

"How many troop squadrons do you guys need?"

"Plan calls for six I'd feel comfortable with eight, a hundred and four men sir."

"Go ahead; let me hear your plan."

"Initially sir we're using six for the embassy, one at the extraction point, and one for rear security. That's about where I'd be comfortable sir."

"How much modification is required of the plan colonel?"

"Enough sir that they have to add some extra elements."

"Are they giving you problems?"

"Not particularly sir but the air force wants to armchair it."

"That's through right now."

"Thank you sir."

"Chances of success?"

"It'd be unwise to guess sir. We've got a lot less time to plan for this than we'd like otherwise sir."

"I know and I personally apologize about that, have you heard the latest intelligence?"

"I am sure we have in the TOC sir."

"Then allow me," the Emperor picked up the piece of paper and eyed it once more. "Earlier this afternoon, over there of course, a military BTR-80 with eleven Special Forces visited the compound under the direction of one Colonel Najafi. We're still trying to determine who he is. Shortly thereafter, four Persian nations who were employed at the embassy were taken outside and executed by firing squad. Apparently the men holding the compound believe they are traitors for helping the Empire." The Emperor put down the paper and looked across at the two Delta veterans.

"Sir that is tragic but looking at this as positive, we now know that the military is complicit in this whole ordeal."

"That they are colonel. I think it would be foolish to think otherwise. Do you guys know anything about this Colonel Najafi?"

"Not a clue sir but we'll get to the bottom of it." His voice was deep and powerful, authoritative and in his service uniform, he appeared to be right out of the academy. Not a ribbon, a button, or a speck of lint was out of place. These men took pride in their uniform when they wore it.

"Tell me then gentlemen, it's your call, do you want to go ahead with this operation? Do you want to lead it? You tell me the truth and I will act accordingly."

For a moment, the two men stood silent until 1LT Duncan spoke up with a sense of patriotism in his voice, "You give us two weeks and we'll be ready to go sir."

"Then I'll make it happen gentlemen. If the worst should happen nobody gets left behind. This isn't black but it is sensitive. I don't care to imagine what those mongrels will do to our boys' bodies. Pull this off and a hundred men and women will be in your debt forever. I will be in your debt forever."

"Thank you sir," the two men, 1LT Duncan and COL Ryan stood and saluted. The Emperor did the same and the two men turned on their heels and departed the office. By the time noon rolled around, while they were sitting in a helicopter on their way back to North Carolina, COL Ryan received a personal phone call from the General of the Air Force. "Colonel," the General said. "I am commanded to give complete operational priority and leadership to you on SALT GARDEN. You tell us what you want and we'll make it happen."

"Thank you General." COL Ryan turned to 1LT Duncan in the cabin of the Black Hawk and smiled. "Pays to know men in high places don't it lieutenant?" They shared a laugh and continued the rest of the flight in relative silence.

[Layarteb]

October 19, 2011 - 14:45 hrs [UTC-3]
Over the North Atlantic, 200 mi SE of Greenland
VC-30F Condor "Falcon One"

The Emperor was on his way to Iceland for a special meeting with the Cottish Prime Minister. A lot had developed over the past five days, specifically with regards to the situation in Tehran. The hostage takers had finally made an announcement to the world that they had seized the Layartebian embassy, the "veritable den of pagan pigs, idolaters, and demonic servants of Satan." They claimed to have seized secret documentation from the MOI of a planned coup against President Saoshyant but they failed to produce any evidence of it, chiefly because none existed. They also claimed to uncover a shipment of books for pagan worship that they boldly claimed were being disseminated to the people of Persia to convert them away from Islam. It was another bold-faced lie and throughout all of this, the Persian government was silent. Insofar as the world was concerned, the Empire was in a weakened state as its embassy was held now for six days by armed extremists. At home, the public was growing weary of seeing it on the news and they wondered why the Empire had done nothing. Little did they know what the Empire was actually planning to execute in Tehran.

The Minister of Foreign Affairs went on national and worldwide television to announce that violence had been what caused the siege in the first place. He announced that the Empire was seeking a diplomatic solution with the Persian government to end this crisis. He downplayed any talk of military action stating that the Empire respected the sovereignty of the Persian government and were working to resolve the crisis. That wasn't a lie, the Empire did respect the sovereignty and there were diplomatic communications but since the Empire's sovereignty had already been violated, the Persians' sovereignty was trumped and all diplomatic communications were a bust. The government wasn't willing to commit military forces to harm "students" and they boldly denied that anyone had been hurt or killed either in the assault or since. They claimed the people were originally unarmed but that the Empire's DPG had fired first and some students had found weapons and used them but not successfully. They believed anyone harmed was harmed by friendly fire. The Minister of Foreign Affairs knew it to be a lie but he couldn't state why he knew it because that would jeopardize the MOI's agents and assets on the ground observing.

It was all smoke and mirrors really. The government was relishing in the embarrassment they had caused the Empire, the "Great Pagan Hell," which was a term borrowed from Al-Shams; and the Empire was buying time to prepare for its military assault. Onboard Falcon One, the Emperor's VC-30F Condor diplomatic transport, staffers were abuzz with tasks. Everyone had a job to do and everyone was doing it. The Emperor had locked himself into his office and he asked Delaney, whose team was on the Emperor's protection detail to ensure that nobody entered unless, of course, a nuclear bomb had gone off in Layarteb City. Delaney agreed and there he personally stood outside of the door. Inside, the Emperor was conducting a high level briefing with the Ministers of Defense, Foreign Affairs, and Intelligence, Colonel Thomas R. Ryan, the commanding officer of the 1st Special Operations Group, "Delta Force," a senior MOI official who was overseeing the intelligence aspect of the case, Brigadier General Adam McRaven, the air force's commanding officer of the operation, and Lieutenant General William Votel, the commanding officer of JSOC. "Alright gentlemen, let's start with foreign affairs. I'll be landing soon and I want to make sure we settle everything before then."

"Sir, diplomatic talks are still going nowhere. The Persians are making nothing but concessions to these 'students' and they've issued a list of names of prisoners they want released. They're all from Egypt and Turkey and basically they're all Sepah-e Pasdaran members. Many of them we do not have anymore and remember Asar al-Baaqer, the Persian military agent we arrested in Incirlik?"

"Yes I do, he's on the list?"

"Sir, he's number four actually."

"How did they find out we arrested him?"

"Sir I doubt they know, they're just giving a list of names. Since most of them are terrorists who were captured or killed in the Adanese War and the subsequent military action in Egypt, we believe that they are just throwing out everyone they can't find. They're definitely connected to Al-Shams, there's no doubt about it. And by proxy the military."

"Alright, what about the world?"

"World opinion sir is that we're sitting on our asses doing nothing."

"Good. Let's keep it that way, alright intelligence what do you have?" The Emperor was on a secure videoconference with everyone involved and he could see everyone's face. They were all secluded either in secure briefing rooms or in their offices. This was top-level secrecy and no mistakes could be made, anywhere. If there were a leak, it would utterly ruin this operation.

"Sir, the 'students' are demanding that all prisoners be released by October 31 or they will begin executing all of the hostages, one per day for the first week until their demands are met. After that, they'll take out two per day for a week. Then it's just one every hour and I doubt they'll get much past there since there are only a hundred people there. We're still observing the embassy and yesterday they tortured and executed the last four Persians. We presume they've been torturing them since the visit by Colonel Najafi on the fourteenth. Speaking of him sir, we found out who he is."

"Outstanding!" The Emperor was excited to hear who this mystery colonel was and what his relationship to the regime was.

"He's President Saoshyant's brother-in-law. Married to his youngest sister. They're about as connected as could be. We've got photos of them together at President Khudhur's execution and they sure as hell don't appear to have had a falling out sir. In the military, he's the equivalent of Colonel Ryan in their chief Special Forces branch. In addition, that branch is acting as President Saoshyant's personal bodyguard force and secret police."

"That's a bit too close for comfort."

"Yes sir it is but like Christmas we've got a few more presents. SIGINT picked up a phone call placed just fifteen minutes after the good colonel left the embassy. Whom'd he call but none other than our dear president? His words exactly, 'The revolution was a success. Our brothers in the "organization" have done admirably and within the restraints that we set upon them. I gave them our instructions to dispose of the Persian traitors. The pagans will be disposed of later when we receive our demands. The pagans are weak and cowering. Three of their armed are killed and seventeen are wounded. I doubt many will live but we will give them basic aide. They are more valuable as bargaining chips. They have one hundred in total.' Nice right?"

"Couldn't be clearer than if it were stamped on a postcard, you've done a heck of a job so far. I commend the entire organization for this one. Is there more?"

"Yes sir, there is. SIGINT is continuing to watch over the area and we've picked up scattered transmissions here and there but so far, the Persians are buying that we want a diplomatic route. They've got spies at Incirlik and they've detected 'no increased activity' there. Our secondary location remains unknown."

"Excellent, defense you're next." The Emperor was hearing nothing but good news, despite whatever bad news had been presented.

"Sir we've got a snag in operations, primarily with regards to extraction. Colonel Ryan and Brigadier General McRaven could better explain it sir. Otherwise we're five-by-five."

"Alright Colonel, let's hear it."

"Sir, we're currently at odds concerning extraction. The current plan is to utilize the Ospreys to pick up the personnel at the soccer stadium, transport them to an airfield south of Tehran, where Rangers will have the airfield secured sir. Hostages and operators will load onto three C-17s along with the Rangers and exfil from Persian airspace at high-speed and low-altitude isr. The Ospreys will go back to the UAE sir but the air force has an alternative plan that they have proposed."

"Brigadier general?"

"Sir, the air force has been rehashing the original 'JULIET STAR' program from our conquest of Venezuela. Are you familiar with it sir?"

"Yes I am and I assume everyone else is."

"Yes sir I have briefed everyone. Sir, we could cut out the airfield and the Rangers entirely with it and exfil everyone to the north, which would minimize time over Persian airspace but we would need clearance from the Russians to go over the Caucasus. Sir, it is risky, very risky sir but we've been running tests and so far we can do it with the MC-130Js."

"How many do you need?"

"Three sir."

"Colonel what is your opposition to it?"

"Sir that's the problem we do not have any specific opposition to it. The plan sir is sound, it is viable, and if they say they can do it then they say they can do it. Sir our biggest hiccup is if something goes wrong there. This is something that's going to raise a lot of eyebrows if it works sir but the chance of failure is astronomically higher."

"Brigadier general do you agree?"

"The colonel and I sir are in total agreement with everything. However sir, they feel it is too risky."

"Colonel I assume that's correct?"

"Yes sir, we feel that given the nature of this operation and the significant amount of risk present that this would be a secondary option rather than a primary option. Sir we also feel that it would help if the air force provided air cover more than just a pair of gunships."

"Brigadier general I am authorizing you to put into the skies what you need but let's keep the Persians from thinking we're going to start a war on this evening."

"Yes sir, we can task a few fighters that would be beyond anything the Persians could muster against us. We would also task electronic jamming sir."

"Do what you have to do gentlemen. For now, since Colonel Ryan is in command of the ground component he has say over the exfil method but Colonel let me be frank here, if the air force is pitching this plan I have to agree that they believe it is safer than the alternative, even if it is riskier."

"Noted sir."

"Alright how are we doing with training?"

"Sir, my men are rehearsing twelve hours a day, we'll be ready." Colonel Ryan said. He hadn't smiled thus far and he was about as serious as a critical heart attack. The Emperor didn't know it yet but Colonel Ryan resolved himself to going along on the mission. It was too dangerous to not go into battle with his men and if anyone else knew, they would be talking him out of it with a gun to his head if he didn't agree.

"If I may sir?" The MOI agent assigned to the mission said, speaking up for the first time. He was young and some would have said inexperienced but he spoke fluent Farsi and he had been assigned to this part of the world throughout his entire career. He knew just about everything about Persian customs and he was probably the most knowledgeable agent even if he didn't have the physical experience to go along with his book smarts. "Twelve hours a day is a lot I will agree Colonel but we have limited time here."

Before Colonel Ryan could respond, the Emperor interjected, knowing just what to say to diffuse the situation instantly. Military officers did not like being instructed by bureaucrats, especially not in something as sensitive as this. Had the Emperor been in Colonel Ryan's shoes he would have tore this bureaucrat a new one. "Brian, your heart is in the right place but rest assured if they are training twelve hours a day, they are training a full twelve hours. These are professionals. They're rehearsing this plan over and over and over and they're going to do it until they're wheels up and on their way to Tehran. These are men who train in their sleep, and they have to be able to rest otherwise they're no good to us. Trust me when they're resting, they're analyzing what they did. More than likely, their day is spent twelve hours on a mock course they constructed in less than three days, and then another four to eight hours in a classroom analyzing everything they did. They're sleeping the other four, eating their meals while they talk, and ignoring the football scores. Colonel, correct me if I'm wrong?"

"Well sir as you know the organization has a big pool with the college football circuit," the Colonel knew the appropriate place to crack this joke and it was a hit. Everyone laughed. "Yes sir that is correct." Colonel Ryan wasn't long for Delta Force anymore, there were big plans for him, and the JSOC ladder waited, even if he didn't know it yet.

"Alright I presume that's everything?" Everyone agreed as the VC-30 began its descent towards Iceland. "Gentlemen this will be our finest hour and this 'win one for the Gipper speeches' are nonsense but do what you have to do to keep yourselves motivated. Colonel, you tell me when you're ready and we'll go that day. When this is over and our nationals are home the Persians are going to have a lot of explaining to do and I have a feeling they're going to do it under the umbrella of a B-3 raining down fury upon them."

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October 20, 2011 - 01:15 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
MOI Safe House, 80 meters SSW from the Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 24.31" N, 51° 25' 24.03" E)

The eight men of Force Falcon Team Three had been scattered around Persia. Four were inside of Tehran, including the team leader who identified himself only as Mister White. Two others were at the proposed second landing site and the last two were on their way to the initial landing site. The air inside of the Layartebian safe house was stale and smelled too much like spent cigarettes to be healthy for any living creature. Surprisingly though, it was neat organized, which Mister White found a bit out of place, considering that five men had been living there in close quarters since the fall of President Khudhur. The Persians were now tasked with all of the daily tasks outside, which meant food shopping and gathering intelligence. The two Layartebians, unable to blend in where their skin color would be a dead giveaway, were under an involuntary house arrest thanks to the political situation in Tehran.

The four Force Falcon men, on the other hand, moved around skillfully. Two were waiting at the safe house now while two others were conducting a reconnaissance patrol inside of the actual embassy walls. They were moving around from cover to cover, gathering intel on the militiamen holding the embassy. They were also looking for possible infiltration locations where patrols weren't being conducted. "You men are not army are you?" David asked of Mister White as they watched the two men dart behind a parked car in the motor pool.

"No we're with the Ministry of Intelligence."

"What unit?"

"A special action group, you wouldn't know the name of it." David was making small talk with his visitors. After being cooped up in there for so long, he craved some sort of new company. It wasn't that he was sick of the Persians and his fellow agent; it was that he was sick of the boring conversation and repetition. "You've got to hang in there." Mister White knew exactly what David was enduring, psychologically speaking.

"You're coming though? The military I mean. The military is coming?"

"We don't know yet. We four are just an advance party. We're here to give you some backup, that's all. You're going to stay here and provide overwatch over the embassy though. If the situation changes, you'll be notified."

"You know there's something strange about this whole ordeal?" David didn't know what had only been discussed hours ago on the Emperor's plane and which had been shared with Team Three. They were in the loop more so than any other person on the ground was. "These guys aren't 'students' at all. The military's been here. They're probably some Special Forces unit of the Persian military. They were highly disciplined."

"That is a distinct possibility and if that's the case then they're a bigger threat than we'll bargain for but that's up to the soldiers on the ground if the time comes. Until then, you've got to stay put and keep doing your duty as quietly as possible. My team needs to procure some vehicles."

"What kind of vehicles?"

"Four trucks, preferably military trucks, something like a deuce and a half." David looked at him curiously. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Do you have money?"

"How much am I going to need?" David motioned for one of the Persians to come closer. He went by the name Abdi but like everyone else in the MOI's clandestine service, that wasn't his name. David spoke to him in Farsi for a moment and then Abdi smiled back at Mister White and gave him a figure but his English was indecipherable so he wrote it down. "One million?" Abdi nodded.

"Yes. Yes. One million. You have? You bring?" Mister White nodded. "Come I know someone." He said a few other things but Mister White didn't know what he was saying. Mister White's Farsi was certainly better than this Hindi but then again, he didn't speak a word of Hindi. Both he and the other member of Team Three gave a quick report to the other two men, who continued to scourer the embassy's grounds that they had possibly found a place to get the vehicles and that they were investigating it. To avoid anyone understanding him, Mister White spoke in whispered Spanish, a language every member of Force Falcon spoke fluently but which few Persians knew.

Abdi took them to a military outpost a half-an-hour east of Tehran where Mister White ordered him to pull the car off the road and turn off the lights when they were still a kilometer away from the outpost. "No outpost is safe." Abdi said a few times until Mister White hushed him and drew out a pair of night vision binoculars from his backpack. He stared towards the outside and gave his location to the two men still inside of the embassy walls and the two men who were investigating the second landing site. He needed them there right away, they aborted their missions and departed for the military outpost, and by 04:00 hours, they had arrived where Mister White was still watching the outpost.

They continued to speak Spanish, which confused Abdi but he stayed quiet, knowing what was good for him. They discussed what to do about the outpost and whether or not Abdi was trustworthy. Mister White didn't seem to think so and they knew that they couldn't assault the base. This was still a black op, which meant that storming and slaughtering an outpost would definitely not be "black." They would get away with the trucks but the military would know that four trucks had gone missing and they would look for them and more than likely, they would find them as they approached Tehran loaded with Delta Force operators. "Abdi, what is this place?" Mister White asked. "What kind of base?"

He searched for the words and then made a motion with his hands to simulate the turning of a wrench. "Fix. Break."

"Mechanic's yard."

"Yes mechanic. They fix trucks." He seem pleased with his response and smiled but it wasn't a comforting smile at all.

"How many soldiers?"

"Ten. I know I work here."

"Are you a soldier Abdi?"

"No. No soldier. Good papers. English." He has having trouble finding the words to say. "I make papers for captain. Fix trucks."

"Alright Abdi, get us in there for the trucks."

"Okay we go." Four of the men hung back while Abdi, Mister White, and one other commando went forward in the car. They pulled up to the gates and the guard came up to the front window. He smiled and the two of them exchanged greetings and talked for at least five minutes. Both Mister White and the other commando were dressed in clothes that hid their faces. They looked more like the militiamen from the embassy than they did Layartebians. Then, finally, Abdi drove into the outpost and stopped to a halt in front of a small, four-walled structure that doubled as the office and the commander's quarters. Abdi and the two Force Falcon men walked up to the door, knocked, and waited.

The Persian captain came out only seconds later. He was awake but clearly intoxicated. Again, there was friendship and he invited all three men inside where he offered them whiskey. Abdi took but the other two didn't. Abdi explained that they were religious Muslims who didn't drink but who wanted to buy some trucks. He cut quickly to the chase. The captain didn't request any money, that would have been bad manners but when he was offered the sum of one million, his eyes lit up and he nodded with excitement. He didn't even ask what they were going to be used for; he simply accepted the money and looked at it with excitement. One million African marks went far in the world, especially in Persia, where the mark was considered as good as gold. He even handed Abdi fifty thousand marks, which was more than Abdi could make in two years working for the army. Corruption, regardless of the administration, went a long way.

The ordeal could have been a lot different. Mister White and his team were ready to kill everyone at the outpost, including Abdi, and stage it to look as if they all killed each other. Six bodies would be taken away and carted off into the desert along with six trucks; although only four were needed. The bodies would be disposed of never to be found again but the trucks would be spirited away. The military was going to be looking for six now, not four, and they would be treating it as a mutiny and not something larger and more dangerous to their security. That had been Mister White's "plan B" but thankfully it wasn't needed and as four of the trucks were driven into the dark of night, Abdi took Mister White and the other commando back to the safe house. Mister White still didn't trust him but at the very least, indirectly, he had bought Abdi's silence and that went far here.

[Amigard]

August 14, 2011

The Theocracy’s isolationist policies kept it safe, hidden away from the rest of the world. Amigard was in the eye of the storm so to speak; while the winds of destruction tore the world apart around her, the Theocracy was a land of peace. The average Amigardian was blissfully ignorant of the conflicts that went on around them, not that they didn’t have access to such information, most just didn’t really care so long as it didn’t directly affect them.

The government was not so naive, however, and over the course of the past year the Amigard External Security Service (AESS) had been slowly inserting field agents throughout the Middle East, Europe, and Africa. The rise of the Islamic Republic in particular had grabbed the attention of Theocracy officials, especially when word had been received that there were possibly Islamic extremists operating within the borders of the Republic. Then in June these concerns were confirmed by the Fatwa announced by Al-Shams.

So far there had been no major attacks or incidents involving the Theocracy but the government had no idea how long that would last. Indeed reports were coming in that Al-Shams was in fact planning some sort of operation within the borders of Amigard, but field agents were unable to provide any details aside from a few rumors.

Now with the military coup in Persia and the execution of the Republics president Amigard officials were on edge. Things were going south in the Theocracy’s own back yard and it could mean that Amigard’s time in the eye of the storm was coming to a close. While Cardinal Steele stopped short of placing the Amigard military on alert, he did advise military leaders to be prepared for possible operations in the near future. Amigard had been lucky so far to be overlooked by most of the world, but there was no telling if the new president of Persia would continue that policy.

Military coups made Cardinal Steele more than a little nervous partly because it showed beyond a doubt that the leaders of such a movement had no qualms about using violence to obtain their objectives, and that tendency often made for tense relations with ones neighbor. Currently the Theocracy had no relationship with any of its neighbors and that was how most Amigardians preferred things to be. The Lay Council in particular had always voiced its desire to continue in isolation despite the fact that such isolation was stifling the economy to some extent.

While the economy was not crippled by any means, after all many corporations found the security that the Theocracy provided appealing, trade was limited and thus the standard of living was not always as high as some of the other major countries throughout the world especially since there were few imports. Consumer goods and luxury items were generally limited to what could be produced domestically. Still, most Amigardians didn’t complain and overall life was good in the Theocracy.

The Children of God, though ever present, seemed to be lying low and the drug cartels in northern Saudi Arabia were seeing their hold on the area largely diminished by an ever increasing and more capable police force. Bishop Trevar had managed to win the Diocesan election and remained governor of the Diocese of Saudi Arabia. Trevar had put a great amount of time and resources into rooting out the corruption that was once endemic to the area, and his efforts were finally beginning to pay off. As a consequence the military units stationed there were able to stand down from patrol duties in most areas save for some of the outlying and sparsely populated territories. Over the summer local police forces had conducted numerous narcotics raids aimed at the major players in the area, arresting a large number of traffickers and their associates.

Unfortunately all of this progress was threatened by the increasing turmoil in the Islamic Republic of Persia. Still, Cardinal Steele held onto the hope that the Theocracy could continue to remain clear of the various conflicts that were popping up throughout the world.

Cathedral of Saint Michael Press Room
August 14, 2011
1930hrs local time

Cardinal Steele approached the podium that stood on a slightly raised dais flanked by flags of Amigard. Affixed to the podium was the seal of the Cardinal. People throughout the Theocracy tuned in to hear the Cardinal’s response to the events in Tehran, even those that were generally apathetic to the world around them were curious as the Cardinal rarely held press conferences regarding foreign affairs.

The small crowd of reporters hushed as the Cardinal stood behind the podium. “Good evening and God bless” the cardinal began warmly exuding a sense of confidence, his demeanor putting many at ease. “On August eleventh it came to the attention of the Amigard government that a situation had developed in neighboring Iran. The president of the Islamic Republic of Persia was arrested in an apparent military coup and was immediately put on trial and found guilty of treason. This trial was nothing more than a means to depose the president and he was executed shortly thereafter” despite his efforts Cardinal Steele could not keep the sarcasm from creeping into his voice when mentioning the trial.

The small crowd remained silent as the cardinal continued “As many of you probably saw on your local and national news networks, General Saoshyant has declared himself the new president of the Islamic Federation of Persia. Mr. Saoshyant has declared that he will hold democratic elections again and it is my hope that this is in fact the case. The Theocracy of Amigard will continue its policy of strict neutrality unless provoked. While I have not place the military on alert I have urged military leaders to ensure that their units are combat ready and prepared for deployment if the need arises.

While I do not condone the method by which the new president gained control of the country, it is not my place to condemn him or his actions at this time.”

With a nod the cardinal acknowledged that the session would now be open for questions. The first came from a young woman near the front row “Your Eminence is it true that President Saoshyant has condemned both Russia and the Empire of Layarteb, and in fact has called for the people of Persia to rise up against them, and if so how do you respond to that?”

The cardinal weighed his words for a moment “President Saoshyant has used some fairly strong words when referring to both the Empire of Layarteb and Russia. I know he has described both entities as enemies of Persia. I can only hope that Mr. Saoshyant will be open to a diplomatic resolution to the problems they are facing at the moment. Again though, the Theocracy fully intends to remain neutral in this affair.”

“The terrorist organization known as Al-Shams has declared a Fatwa against the Theocracy amongst others. Is there any reason to believe that this organization is connected to the current Persian government?” The question had come from a middle aged man near the center of the room.

“We have no information at this time that would indicate that this is the case.” The cardinal nodded and pointed to another man sitting next to the one that had asked the question.

“What is the government doing about Al-Shams?”

“Al-Shams is currently on the Theocracy’s watch list and the National Security Service has been monitoring their activities. Both branches of the Security Service are working closely together to ensure that any threats made by this organization are identified and dealt with appropriately.”

“Should the people of Amigard be concerned?”

“The people of Amigard should go about their daily lives, but be vigilant. Report anything suspicious to local authorities immediately, but there is no reason to panic or make significant changes to routines. We have received no credible threats that would warrant concern at this time. I have time for one more question.” The cardinal looked over the crowd briefly then pointed to an elderly woman sitting toward the back of the room.

“Your Eminence if the new president of the Federation of Persia fails to allow elections within a reasonable amount of time what will be the Theocracy’s response?”

Cardinal Steele nodded “That is good question. The Theocracy is not in a position to dictate domestic policy or politics to other countries. I would encourage President Saoshyant to go forward with the elections.” The cardinal straightened slightly and waved to the reporters.

“Thank you, have a good evening and may the Lord bless you Father, Son, and Holy Spirit” and with that Cardinal Steele blessed the crowd of reporters who responded by making the sign of the cross and replying with a unanimous “Amen.”

Regular programming resumed and the people of Amigard went about their lives, once again returning to blissful ignorance and political apathy…

[Amigard]

Cathedral of Saint Michael
Amigard City, Iraq Diocese
October 13, 2011

The conference room was dead silent for a moment, those present having just witnessed images on a large flat screen TV positioned on the far wall of the room of the destruction in Grozny and throughout the Russian Union State. All of the major news networks and television agencies throughout the Theocracy were reporting what little information they could about the incident but getting any news from Russia was not an easy task. Cardinal Steele and his staff, however, had access to video footage and images that were being fed to them by field agents with the External Security Service, though even this was scattershot at best sometimes.

Still, there was no doubt that a coordinated attack had occurred and there were likely hundreds dead and wounded. No one knew who had actually perpetrated the attacks but it was clear that this was a humanitarian disaster. Cardinal Steele looked about the room “Bishop Mensk” he said finally after his gaze fell on his Head of the Amigard National Security Service.

“Your Eminence”

“Do we have any information on who is responsible for these attacks?”

“It’s not clear to us yet your eminence I have my agents working on it as we speak. But I will say that agents with the Internal Security Service are tracking several groups domestically that have shown increased activity since the bombings. The Children of God in particular seem to be moving around a bit, but we are also seeing some possible Al-Shams cells although this is not confirmed as of yet.”

“I’m relatively certain the Children of God aren’t responsible, they don’t have much influence outside of the Theocracy” replied the cardinal “if your agents can develop any amount of suspicion based on facts I want them to bring these suspected Al-Shams people in for questioning.”

“Yes your Eminence.”

“Police forces throughout the nation need to be extra vigilant. In the meantime we need to look at humanitarian relief for the cities hit by these bombings.”

“Operation Mercy is in place your eminence and ready to be activated” Bishop Gardner said “with some adjustment we can tailor the operation to foreign aid.”

“Very good, I want that to get under way as soon as possible. Send a communiqué to the Russians letting them know we are prepared to offer humanitarian relief to the affected cities. Also put a call out on the news agencies for volunteers, I imagine they will need plenty of doctors and nurses as well as people willing to pick up a shovel and start rebuilding. And offer them the use of a regiment from the medical corp…maybe from the Army of Saint Michael.”

“It will be done your eminence, but what if Russia refuses the aid?”

The Cardinal looked at Bishop Gardner quizzically, confused as to why the Russians would possible refuse aid “I’m not sure why they would but if they do I guess we can stand down the relief efforts. I don’t want to wait for approval to get the ball rolling though, the sooner we can get the supplies in the air and on the way, the more people can benefit.”

The cardinal looked about the room again somberly before continuing “The Russian people will need our prayers whether they believe in them or not, we can offer them that much at a minimum.”

“There is another issue I must bring to your attention your eminence” Bishop Mensk announced.

Cardinal Steele’s eyebrows arched as he leaned forward curious to hear what the Bishop had to say “Yes what is it your grace?”

“We have also been getting reports that the Layartabian Embassy in Tehran has been overrun by insurgents of some kind. Unfortunately we know little more than this at the moment.”

“It gets better all the time doesn’t it? I don’t imagine the Empire of Layarteb will respond well to their embassy being taken.”

“No your eminence; tensions are likely to start rising real fast.”

“Alright, monitor the situation and keep me informed. Hopefully this can be dealt with diplomatically between the two nations without bloodshed.”

Amigard City
Military Supply Depot
October 16, 2011

SFC Tripps chewed on the worn out stogie that he’d been working on for the past few hours as he supervised a group of soldiers load a deuce and a half truck with crates of medical supplies. Tripps was an old veteran who fought during the Saudi Campaign, but who was now stuck working supply after the injuries he’d received at the Battle of Sakakah effectively ended his combat career. Tripps had taken a piece of frag from a grenade which lodged itself so close to his spine that doctors were afraid to go in and remove it. He’d been placed on light duty and eventually had to choose between a medical discharge and a desk job. The Army was all Tripps knew, how could he allow himself to be discharged?

The truck was one among many that were bound for Mosul where they would be loaded into various transport aircraft and shipped to Grozny and the other Russian cities hit by the recent terrorist attacks assuming the Russian government accepted the aid that the Theocracy provided. In any event officials at the Cathedral of Saint Michael had initiated operation MERCY.

Operation Mercy had been put in place at the beginning of the year and was designed to coordinate the relief efforts of various local and national agencies in the event of a natural disaster or other major event. As part of the plan food, medical supplies, and other resources such as construction equipment would be shipped to centralized distribution centers and then onward to various staging areas as needed. Each Diocese and local government had a pre-designated Emergency Operations Center (EOC) and distribution center where supplies could be funneled and then assigned to various operations as needed.

Amigard City, Damascus, Amman, and Al Jawf were currently the Diocesan EOC’s and distribution points, but Mosul had been the designated staging area for most of the aid that would potentially be shipped. Bandages, anti-biotic medicine, various pain killers, MREs, clothing, and blankets, among other things, were being gathered and taken to the staging areas.

The supply bay smelled strongly of diesel as the transport trucks backed in for loading. It was a smell that SFC Tripps had long associated with his time in the military, getting ready for patrols by performing PMCS on the Hummers in the motor pool.

“Who pissed in your cereal this morning sarge?” The light hearted comment had come from a tall lanky man wearing the shiny silver bars of a captain.

Tripps expression remained disgruntled “Morning cap.” He replied informally, something that most in the unit could not hope to get away with but the Captain respected Tripps on account of his combat service and his don’t give a damn attitude. “Damned privates are moving slower than molasses in winter this morning, can’t seem to light a fire under their ass….hey dipstick try not to drop that, you aint gonna be able to pay for it on your salary! Work smarter not harder…would somebody help this idiot?” the sarge shouted out to a young private that was having obvious trouble trying to carry a crate by himself. Another soldier rushed over to help the young man.

“I’ve never seen you happier sarge.” The captain chuckled.

Tripps grunted. “How do we know this crap is even going to get to the people that need it? Wont the Russian government be just as likely to keep it for themselves as distribute it to the people?”

“It’s possible but lets pray that won’t be the case.”

Another grunt from Tripps as he eyed a pair of soldiers walking across the bay obviously wondering why they weren’t carrying a crate, this grunt was more akin to a growl though “I’m not real sure how effective prayer is going to be in this situation cap.”

[URBOV]

July 25th
Azerbaijan-Iran Border
Checkpoint 17

The morning sun slowly rose over the trees to the east, casting majestic shadows through the unopened window that was across the barracks from Ryadovoy (Private) Vasiely Gregonovitch Jakov. Shadows that moved in time to the deep breaths that Vasiely took, lost as he was in an exhaustion forced sleep. Only recently he had transferred to the “Vostok” Brigade, known throughout the Russian Union Military as the most savage and dedicated of units. Raised in Chechnya, Vostok was normally employed only in region where combat was expected or already ongoing; their posting to the Azerbaijani Border raising quite a stir because of this fact. The young Ryadovoy had just the day prior learned that whenever a Vostok Mladshiy Serzhant (Junior Sargent) said that any exercise would make him, “Learn to love his Motherland” that it was sure to cause equal amounts of sweat and pain. Now, quietly sleeping, he was on the road to recovery from the brutal hazing that was common in the Russian Army.

Good things never last, and the sleep Vasiely was enjoying was abruptly ended by Mladshiy Serzhant Petrovic stomping through the barracks; banging a pair of garbage lids together. Thinking he was back in Basic, the Ryadovoy jumped up and stood rigidly at the position of attention, taking care to bend his knees just so; so that he did not pass out from blood loss. Instead of bellowing the orders of the day however, the Serzhant simply shouted," Tovarishchi, my poluchili slovo ot nashih bratʹev na KPP 15 , chto Islamskaya Zhivotnye dvigayut·sya po vsemu frontu ! YA hochu, chtoby ty odet i kormil v dvenadtsatʹ minut , vooruzhennye v pyatnadtsatʹ, i gotovy zapolnitʹ neskolʹko mogil na dvadtsatʹ! " “Comrades, we have received word from our brothers at Checkpoint 15 that the Islamic Animals are moving all along the front! I want you dressed and fed in twelve minutes, armed in fifteen, and ready to fill some graves in twenty!” the more veteran soldiers of Vostok stood silently, while the greener members like Ryadovoy Jakov nervously sneaked glances around them. Since the rise of the Islamic Republic, Russian Units in Azerbaijan had been on edge, trading rounds with first Fundamentalist Militia and then Persian Military. Movement along the entire front however was new, new usually meant bad, and to the eager Russian soldiers, bad was now good.

Shrugging on his uniform and body armor, the Ryadovoy choked down some steaming oat meal while he laced his combat boots. Veteran Vostok Soldiers already were dressed and lining up outside of the Weapon's Locker, making jokes and chatting quietly while the NCO in charge unlocked room after room of weapons. Finally dressed, Vasiely himself shoved his way into one of the rooms that stank of gun lubrication oils. To a right wing gun nut, the rooms were like a small child's candy store. Kalashnikov rifles, SVDs, PKMs, RPKs, RPGs, Abakan rifles, As Vals, and even the rare Groza hung in a sort of proud silence. Eagerly running his hand over his designated AK-74U, he grabbed hold of the rifle's stock and hand guard, holding it at a forty five degree angle across his body. Walking eagerly back into the squad bay, the Ryadovoy was instantly mocked by the Veterans who all held their rifles casually.

There was however no time to confront them as Mladshiy Serzhant Petrovic returned and quickly had the squad packed into a pair of Ural two and a half ton trucks. The truck promptly pulled out from the checkpoint and drove them what appeared to be several miles into Persia, where they were to meet what was thought to be an enemy motorized column at what was declared, “strategic terrain”. Upon disembarking however the Soldiers of Vostok found that the terrain was hardly favorable for defense, regardless of it's supposed strategic value. A low broken fence ran parallel to the roadway, and a large irrigation ditch ran perpendicular to the fence; crossing the road just before the jumping off point. The Leytenant, being the highest ranking officer was the one to give the already anticipated order; occupy the irrigation ditch.

Vasiely and his fellow Soldiers promptly went about constructing their killing zone, laying out several anti personnel and anti armor mines some fifty meters hence. The Weapons Platoon squad currently attached to the Rifle Platoon broke out their RPG-29 and already began to coordinate with the Artillery Units back on the border. Interrupting their preparations however was the lead vehicle of this Persian Column. Concealed in the ditch, the Vostok Men waited until the unarmored truck had simply driven over their impromptu minefield, cheering as the buried ordinance shredded the unarmored body and the four men inside. Emboldened by their minor victory, the Russians fired on the second and third vehicles with a mix of disposable RshG-1 Rocket Launchers and single shots from their Kalashnikovs. They did however betray their presence and the Persians responded by engaging with a mixture of lightly armored vehicles and a platoon sized infantry formation.

Just as the enemy was visible, the FAC called in a light barrage of anti-personnel munitions that landed with horrible effects right amongst the Persian Infantry. Even from over five hundred meters away, the Russians could hear the frenzied screams of the wounded and the dying as the shrapnel from the AP rounds severed limbs and dealt mortal wounds. The Lightly armored vehicles also fell pray to the artillery, though one did continue to drive towards the Russians until a man destroyed it with the RPG-29. Silence then descended upon the battlefield, or at least relative silence, for in the distance artillery and heavy caliber gunfire could be heard; as if there were similar skirmishes along the entire border. Time passed slowly, the adrenaline high of combat slowly leaking away and turning to boredom. Six hours later the unit returned to the Checkpoint and were informed by two immaculately dressed Staff Officers that the Vostok Brigade had soundly defeated what was mockingly known as the, “July Offensive”. Vasiely himself was disappointed, thinking the only combat of his career was to be a simple border skirmish with what turned out to not be a motorized column. How wrong he was would only become apparent to him several months later, when Vostok was carving it's way into Iran; walking through hell.

[Layarteb]

October 23, 2011 - 19:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

The sun was setting over Layarteb City when the Emperor stepped back into his office on the evening of the twenty-third. "Gentlemen, I apologize for the delay," he said to his four guests who stood upon his entrance. Two of them offered salutes, as they were military men. The other two were the Ministers of Defense and Intelligence. "Alright let's begin then shall we?" The Emperor took off his jacket and put it on the coat rack. It was a chilly evening and though he had the windows cracked, he had the fireplace going. It bathed the room in a dry but comfortable heat. "Actually would anyone care for a drink?" Nobody answered. To them, the Emperor's behavior as a tinge bit peculiar this evening. His loosened his tie and poured himself a finger of scotch. "Alright now we can begin," the Emperor looked weary and exhausted and nobody knew why, he never appeared this way.

"Sir Delta is ready to go." Colonel Ryan said, being the first to speak. "Sir, we've rehearsed and we've rehearsed and we're ready to go. My men are confident sir."

"Excellent," the Emperor sat down behind his desk. "How does the air force feel about this general?"

"Sir the air force is ready to go too. Sir we've been playing a shell game and we have all of our aircraft in place. All we have to go is get Delta over to Incirlik and then to the forward staging base, which we can do in about twenty-four hours after they're aircraft is wheels up sir."

"That's two pieces of good to dissuade the mountain of bad. Have we agreed upon an extraction?"

"Yes sir." Colonel Ryan said enthusiastically. "We're going to embrace the air force's primary exfiltration plan sir and go with our plan as plan 'B.'"

"Why the sudden change of heart colonel?"

"Like the air force sir, we'd like to spend as little time over Persian airspace as possible."

"Alright we'll work on Russia, I doubt they'll give us too much trouble, especially not if they want our help with concern to this Grozny thing." The Emperor turned to the two ministers who had been quiet thus far, both of them waiting to be called upon by the Emperor. "What's defense have to say?"

"We're ready to go sir. Ultimately, we've got our assets in place and we concur with the feeling of our operation commanders."

"I'm glad to hear. What about intelligence?"

"We're in place as well. We continue to hold a safe house across the street. Our commander has been inserted. The advance team we sent in has secured both sites and put the infrared markers in place at the first location. We too are just waiting for the command to go sir."

"So it seems like we're just waiting on me?" Nobody said it aloud but everyone had tacitly agreed that they were. The Emperor had yet to give his final seal of approval to the mission. "You know where I just came from?" It wasn't a question meant to be answered verbally and no one did. "I just came from a face-to-face meeting with the wives and children of some of the hostages. They're grief stricken and I'm sorry to say that I am emotionally drained from this fiasco. Do you gentlemen understand the weight of this decision? It isn't as easy to do as everyone might assume and I'm getting too old for this nonsense." The Emperor was being frank with everyone and they suddenly knew why he looked the way he did. "On the one hand I have one hundred nationals being held hostage by a foreign nation. Unacceptable. Diplomacy is like pissing into the wind. We're not going to get anywhere with it. The Persians don't want to negotiate. On the other hand, I have a highly risky military operation that could lead to more casualties, more hostages, or total and utter failure.

"So I must weight which is the lesser of two evils. The Persians aren't expecting us to do anything. They feel that we're too chicken to act. They think we're going to assume that they have the ultimate bargaining chip. So what are the facts?"

"Al-Shams is basically behind this and that good-for-nothing president of Persia is in league with them. His whole country is in league with them. They've basically goaded the Russians into steamrolling them into oblivion and us as well. So what do we do? Do we go to war with them? Do we turn their sand into more sand?" The Emperor was silent for a few minutes. "Gentlemen, tactically speaking the best night to conduct this operation is the narrow window between the twenty-fifth through the twenty-seventh. Colonel, get your men to Turkey. Day one of these operations will be on the night of the twenty-fifth to the twenty-sixth. You will go early in the morning on the twenty-seventh. This is going to be thirty-six hours where everything can go wrong. Are you both confident that we are going to be successful?"

"Yes sir."

"Yes sir."

"What about you gentlemen?"

"Yes sir."

"Yes sir."

"Then to hell with Persia and Al-Shams. They picked a fight with the Empire and this is going to be the last fight they'll ever pick with us. SALT GARDEN is a go. Get into maximum readiness and on the twenty-fifth I will issue the final go/no-go for operations. The mission codeword will be 'falcon' is that clear?" Once again, there were "Yes sir's" all around the room. The Emperor looked back at his drink, downed the last of it, and eyed his watch. "Colonel, I assume you're going aren't you?"

"Yes sir I am."

The Emperor looked around the room and nodded that everyone was dismissed except for Colonel Ryan, who lingered back, uncomfortably so at this point. When the doors were shut and it was just the two of them, the Emperor yet again offered the military man a drink, which he obliged. Together, they clanged their glasses of scotch together and the Emperor continued what he wanted to say before. "Colonel, you are a rising star in this military."

"Thank you sir."

"I know why you want to go and I cannot disagree but heed this word of caution Colonel. Whether you like it or not, your days in Delta are numbered. You've got a star waiting for you and a position at JSOC."

"Sir I respectfully," he was cut off before he could finish.

"Colonel you'd do the Empire more good in JSOC commanding all of our Special Forces than you would commanding one unit. You will handpick your successor but this is non-negotiable. There's a star and JSOC in the running or I'm sorry to say there is retirement. The Joint Chiefs are unanimous on this and I do listen to them. Colonel, there may come a time when you are a Joint Chief and whether you like politics or not, I have enough politicians under my authority. I want men with logic and a conscience."

"Understood sir."

"Come home alive Colonel, that's an order."

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ | ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

October 24, 2011 - 05:30 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Ribat-i-Sirkha, Iran
Desert One
(33° 4' 39.28" N, 55° 47' 52.84" E)

"Sun's coming up, we've got to go." One of the two men said. They were both sitting inside of the cab of a four-wheel drive pickup truck and one of them was using a pair of night vision goggles and a compass to check something that the other simply couldn't see.

"Yeah I got it. We're good, just taking some final readings. Radio transmitter works too. Looks good to me."

"Good, let's book and get to the hide spot." The driver took off the goggles and put them into a bag by his side. The bag was Persian in design so it wouldn't look suspicious if anyone were to look into the car. Inside of that bag were plenty of other gadgets that the men needed to accomplish their task.

"Alright let's go." The driver pulled onto the road and began his early morning trek to their hide site, which was about thirty kilometers to the east. When the time came, they would return to the site, activate what they laid out on the desert floor, and man the site while SALT GARDEN kicked off in Persia.

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ | ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

October 25, 2011 - 04:15 hrs [UTC+3]
Adana, Turkey
Incirlik Air Base
(37° 00' 07" N, 35° 25' 33"E)

The men of Delta Force had lost practically an entire day in the flight over to Incirlik Air Base in Turkey. The eight troop squadrons endured a twelve-hour flight aboard a pair of C-17ER Globemaster III transport aircraft. Four squadrons went into each aircraft with all of the gear they were going to need and when they took off from Pope Air Force Base in North Carolina, they were smiles and laughs. By the time they landed, they had slept appropriately to catch up to the time difference, which subsequently jumped them ahead by eight hours so that they burned twenty hours just getting into position. Once on the ground, the two Globemaster IIIs moved into hangars where the men deboarded without being seen. Pallets of bags came off and the men dispersed into their subsequent troop squadrons. The plans would be to transport them to the secondary airfield in two more groups aboard a pair of C-130Js that had a regular schedule. They would fly north for about fifty miles and then the aircraft would bank east and fly to the secondary airfield, which was much closer to the Persian border, and where the KC-130Js and MC-130Js were waiting.

[Layarteb]

October 25, 2011 - 13:00 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

The biggest hindrance to the opening of SALT GARDEN was the timing and the precise coordination that was required. The three MC-130Js and three KC-130Js, which were given the codenames Razor 01 through Razor 03 and Tungsten 01 to 03, had a three hour and fifteen minute flight time flying at one hundred feet above ground level, at three hundred miles per hour. Tungsten was the code given to the KC-130s and Razor was the code given to the MC-130s. The second component, the eight CV-22C Ospreys flying out of the United Arab Emirates, which were given the codenames Surfboard 01 to 08 had a two hour flight flying equally as low at two hundred and seventy-five miles per hour. The refueling of the Osprey's was expected to take a half hour to an hour, at most. If it were an hour, timing would be at the critical point since the Osprey's still had an hour flight to the Desert Two hide site. First light was around 04:54 hours, local time and that meant they had to be at the hide site by no later than 03:30 hours but there was the contingency to go up to 04:00 hours max.

The last Super Hercules would have to be wheels up by 21:45 hours, local time and the last Osprey would have to be wheels up by 00:00 hours, local time. For the Super Hercules' that meant taking off in the mid-evening of October 25 and for the Osprey's just as the clock turned to October 26. This, the most complicated and complex part of SALT GARDEN was only the first phase of the operation. It would be up to the Osprey pilots and various MOI elements at the Desert Two hide site to keep the Osprey's hidden from the Persians throughout the daytime. The Delta commandos would move out throughout the day to a staging point just outside of Tehran. When darkness fell again, they would move into Tehran and assault the embassy on or about 23:00 hours on October 26. Exfiltration from Tehran would begin at 00:30 hours on October 27 and take no more than twenty minutes to get the three MC-130Js into the soccer stadium and then back out again, one at a time. This would be the second phase of the operation, the meat and potatoes of it, where the hostages would be rescued by Delta.

Throughout this entire second phase, Layartebian fighters would be providing air cover. The plan called for a two hour and fifteen minute flight to the stadium for the extraction force so they would be taking off just before the Delta Force commandos began their assault. By the time the assault began, the Imperial Layartebian Air Force would deploy ten aircraft into Persian airspace to provide cover over Tehran. Four F-57A Wraiths would be outfitted with an air-to-air loadout of six AIM-221A Gryphon beyond-visual-range missiles and two AIM-204B Escape dogfighting missiles internally. Externally, each plane would be carrying twelve hundred gallons of fuel in a pair of experimental, stealthy drop tanks. Their job was to protect the force from Persian fighters during the operation and then during the extraction. Four F-58A Vipers would be outfitted with a mixed loadout of air-to-ground weaponry with some air-to-air weapons for self-defense. Their job was to knock out any surface-to-air threats that could endanger the extraction force. The last component was a pair of AC-42B Atlas gunships that would provide artillery and closer air support to the Delta commandos while they executed their assault on the embassy. The entire force would exfiltrate to the north.

During the second phase of the operation, the CV-22C Ospreys would move to the north and orbit over the Caspian Sea just in case they were needed for the extraction. A pair of KC-130Js flying an orbit over the Caspian Sea would provide them with air-to-air refueling. A pair of KC-30E Condor tankers would be refueling the entire force as they made their way back home. More than likely, because they were all flying to Incirlik, the aerial refueling would occur over Azerbaijan. The entire force would be moving through the same route, flying eleven hundred and sixty-three miles back to Incirlik Air Base and a sizeable chunk of that would be through Russian airspace. The Vipers and Wraiths would be required to stick with the force until they were back in Turkish airspace. The plan was certainly more than ambitious, it was downright crazy but it was so daft that it simply had to work since there were no other viable alternatives for them.

The Emperor was sitting in his office as the clock struck thirteen. The Empire used twenty-four hour time as a standard and of course, so did the military. It was just easier and more simplistic than dealing with a.m. and p.m. was. He was joined by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the Minister of Defense, and the Minister of Intelligence. "Sir, we have a five minute window to approve SALT GARDEN." The Minister of Defense said. "Timing is tight on this one sir."

"I'm aware." The Emperor was looking at a final brief of the mission. It hadn't changed since the last meeting they had on it. "Everyone's in place in Persia?"

"Yes sir." The Minister of Intelligence responded. "We're all just waiting on your final seal of approval sir, everyone is in place."

"General, what is your opinion on this; we can still cancel it and go about a different route."

"Yes we can sir but it won't get any better than this. If we abort we risk the Persians finding out somehow, which will make any future operation virtually impossible sir."

"Alright," the Emperor looked at the dossier one more time. "I have a draft to the Russians that I will be sending out once the first phase is completed successfully. With that let's get on with it gentlemen, I approve."

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October 25, 2011 - 22:00 hrs [UTC+3]
Diyarbakir, Turkey
Diyarbakir Airport
(37° 53' 26.95" N, 40° 12' 5.84" E)

Diyarbakir Airport had been used by the Imperial Layartebian Air Force during the Empire's clandestine campaign against western Iran. The not-so-clandestine operation had been made public by the Persian government but the use of Diyarbakir Airport had not and thus it came in extremely handy for SALT GARDEN. For starters, it was two hundred and seventy miles closer to Persian territory than Incirlik was and secondly, it wasn't under any watchful eyes or spies of the Persian intelligence service. Sitting on its tarmac now, the six Layartebian aircraft had all begun their taxiing towards the runway. Three were MC-130J Combat Shadow IIs carrying the one hundred and four Delta commandos and their commanding officer, Colonel Ryan. The other three were KC-130J Super Hercules tankers carrying six-thousand gallon fuel bladders. The eighteen thousand gallons of extra fuel that these Super Hercules aircraft were carrying would be mainly used to refuel the Osprey's when they came in to land. They would be almost dry on fuel by the time they landed and they would need full fuel tanks to get to Desert Two and then to their hold point in the Caspian Sea during the Delta Force commandos' assault on the embassy.

Each of the four-engine aircraft emitted a specific and familiar drone as they taxied towards the runway. They had clearance for takeoff and they weren't going to be coming back to Diyarbakir Airport either. They would land back at Incirlik and Diyarbakir Airport would not be used again for SALT GARDEN, reducing the possibility that someone was going to tip off the Persians. All six of the aircraft moved right up to the beginning of the runway and subsequently, the pilots pushed their throttles up to maximum power and pushed their fully laden aircraft down the runway. Each one lifted into the skies and then assumed a northerly course, flying ten miles, out of the city of Diyarbakir, before they turned to the east. For the next two hundred and forty-five miles, they would be flying at medium altitude, cruising at three hundred miles per hour, unopposed and certainly unseen.

Each of the aircraft emitted no light and their cabins glowed red as the pilots used their night vision goggles to navigate through the pitch-black, night skies over Turkey. The region was experienced a new moon, which was why it was so tactically advantageous to go now. The lack of moonlight would give them an added advantage in nighttime operations and the Delta Force commandos preferred to have every possible advantage they could have. Having a new moon was pretty high on their list of wants and they embraced it and utilized the advantage it gave them over the Persians.

Just under an hour later, all six aircraft dropped rapidly to the deck, continuing to cruise at three hundred miles per hour. They crossed into Persian airspace at barely one hundred feet above ground level and this was the most harrowing time for the pilots. Separated by a mile, each aircraft would be following an invisible course through the night skies, avoiding radar sites, military outposts, cities, and large settlements. Over Persian airspace, they flew south of Urmia, between Maraghen and Miandoab, over countless miles of nothingness but desert terrain, climbing and descending with each hill and natural obstacle, north of Qom but south of Tehran, over Namark Lake, which was a giant salt lake, south of Khur, and then towards Desert One, a phantom location in the Iranian desert just seventy-five miles southwest of Tabas.

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October 25, 2011 - 23:45 hrs [UTC+4]
Umm Al Quwain, United Arab Emirates
Naval Air Station Umm Al Quwain
(25° 34' 25.80" N, 55° 39' 38.12" E)

The eight CV-22C Osprey's would have been out of place anywhere else but not at Naval Air Station Umm Al Quwain. The air force routinely rotated aircraft through Naval Air Station Umm Al Quwain on their way to Sri Lanka and the Andaman and Nicobar Islands. Empty except for their four-man crew, the eight CV-22s had already moved to their taxiway positions. To conserve fuel, the Osprey's would takeoff normally and as the calendars were switched to October 26, the last Osprey lifted into the air and took off to the north, flying out over the Strait of Hormuz before they turned to the northeast and flew towards Persian airspace. Unlike the MC-130s and KC-130s, the Osprey's would never ascend above one hundred feet and they crossed into Persian airspace a few miles to the west of Tiab and headed north. Like the MC-130s and KC-130s, they flew just above the ground, guided by night vision, avoiding large settlements, cities, military installations, and radar sites. They zigzagged over Persian territory, and headed towards Desert One, which they would approach from the south.

For them, the flight was just as quiet. By keeping low and avoiding any sort of populated areas or military installations, the Osprey's were like ghosts in the night sky. The moonless night helped them just as it helped the rest of the Layartebian aircraft.

[Layarteb]

October 26, 2011 - 01:15 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Ribat-i-Sirkha, Iran
Desert One
(33° 4' 39.28" N, 55° 47' 52.84" E)

Radio silence was crucial for this mission but there was going to have to be one brief moment when that would have to be broken that moment was now. The lead aircraft in the whole flight, an MC-130J Combat Shadow II, callsign Razor 01 would have to make the call and the pilot checked his location as he neared the Desert One location. The radio had already been set to the proper frequency and both pilots agreed that now was the right time. Behind the two of them, on the flight deck, a radio operator switched to the proper frequency and keyed up the microphone. "La noche es muy oscura." [The night is very dark.] The radio operator said, in Spanish, keeping with the cover. Any Persian radio operator listening to the frequencies would spend a considerable amount of time trying to find a translation for it.

On the ground, the two men from Force Falcon Team Three, who had been waiting at the Desert One location as an advance team scoured the desert with their night vision binoculars. There was nothing for as far as the eyes could see and with professional calm, they responded back over the same frequency, "Es una lástima Orion no está fuera esta noche." [It's a shame Orion isn't out tonight.] With that code phrase back, the driver of the vehicle flicked a switch on his radio controller and watched through his night vision goggles as the hard work he had done only days earlier suddenly appeared before his very eyes. "Pero las estrellas brillan brillantemente." [But the stars are shining brightly.] He said and that was the end of their radio chatter. They dove headfirst back into radio silence as the lead MC-130J Combat Shadow II came into view on the horizon.

Inside the cockpit of Razor 01, the pilot and co-pilot smiled as they looked through their night vision goggles to see a faint outline of infrared strobes on the horizon. The outline was in a perfectly straight line to their position and they could see a row of strobes to the right and to the left with about twenty meters in between the two lines. It was a runway, carved out of the desert and invisible to the naked eye. "Gear down," the co-pilot said as he lifted a level on the control panel. "Thirty seconds boys!" He yelled back as the Delta commandos, who received a two-minute warning, were ready to disembark as quickly as track runners were at the sound of a gunshot.

"Alright I've got control, flaps are set, be ready for a hard and fast landing," the pilot said as he watched the aircraft begin to drop its speed. Barely a hundred feet off the ground, he carefully controlled the MC-130J as it gradually lowered itself until the back wheels touched the beginning of the ad-hoc runway. Immediately, the aircraft was put into emergency conditions and the rather rough landing led to an even rougher but short stop as the aircraft moved to the end of the runway and took a right turn, traveling fifty meters from the edge of the runway's right line before turning back the opposite way, heading towards the direction it came from, ultimately stopping near the beginning of the runway. The plane turned itself around and it was once again facing the right direction. The aircraft would take off in the reverse order than they landed and head back in the same direction. Over the next eight minutes, the remaining five aircraft all set down in the desert, each one landing as short and as roughly as the first one. Despite those landings though, there was no damage to the aircraft and they had all come in right on time. The MC-130Js were in the back as they would be the last to take off and the KC-130Js were scattered to the far end of the runway, two on the right and one on the left.

The first thing that the Delta commandos did was to come out of their MC-130Js and set up a perimeter around the ad-hoc airstrip. They were now going to have to wait for the CV-22s, which would be arriving very shortly after their own arrival. Set to arrive at 01:30 hours, the CV-22s wound up coming in a bit later, the first one touching down at 01:40 hours. They slowly staggered in over the next ten minutes, having been slowed down due to two unexpected elements. The first was a haboob, a dust storm that had popped out of nowhere. Thanks to their night vision goggles and modern navigation systems though, they continued through it unabated but they were forced to slow down slightly to counter the strong crosswinds. This was the primary reason for their delay. The second issue was because of an uncharted radar that they detected. They flew around it, avoiding its lethal rays but why it had not been spotted on their route was a major gripe for all eight Osprey pilots and their eight co-pilots.

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October 26, 2011 - 02:30 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Garmsar, Iran
Desert Two
(35°22'17.29"N, 52°14'46.40"E)

An hour's flight away, at the Desert Two hide site, the four more men of Force Falcon Team Three along with three MOI assets and one MOI agent waited with patience on the information update from Desert One. The MOI agent had made a habit of consistently checking his wristwatch every minute. It was already twenty-five minutes past when they should have received the word that operations at Desert One were completed and that the aircraft were on their way. 02:00 hours came and went though, it was now 02:30 hours, and they were running out of time. If the call came in right at this time, it would mean an ETA of 03:30 hours for the final aircraft. If anything further went wrong and delayed them, they ran the risk of being in the skies when first light came over the horizon. To the MOI agent it felt as if the sky were getting brighter even though it wasn't, at least not yet.

"Something went wrong," one of the assets said in Farsi. The agent just looked at him and then at the four Force Falcon men who were as calm as if they were sitting at a desk somewhere.

"Patience gentlemen, and lady." One of the assets was a young girl, quite a looker but who was as deadly as any man was, especially when it came to hand-to-hand combat. Deceitful and manipulative, she was the best asset in Persia and one that would have a long history with the MOI if she remained unburned. "If there was a catastrophe, we'd know it by now, so let's just be patient. We didn't come all this way to go home." He added, trying to calm them down, knowing that their nerves would lead them to make some fatal mistakes.

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October 26, 2011 - 02:05 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Ribat-i-Sirkha, Iran
Desert One
(33° 4' 39.28" N, 55° 47' 52.84" E)

Colonel Ryan looked at his watch and then across at the refueling operation. The MC-130s and KC-130s had their engines on idle, burning through precious fuel while the CV-22Cs were being refueled. Air force technicians were running about, connecting hoses and shouting orders while the Osprey's, with their own engines on idle, took on fuel two at a time. They would do six and then the other two since that was all they had for hoses and fuel bladders. Little did they know that a minor miscalculation would require one of those CV-22Cs not only to hook up to one fuel bladder but then after that bladder ran unexpectedly dry, maneuver over to another KC-130J and hook up to its fuel bladder. That was a dangerous maneuver and it would be accomplished with care, as the CV-22C Osprey would have to lift a few feet over the ground and sideslip across the runway to the next KC-130J. Communications would be crucial for the dangerous maneuver.

However, before that error was even discovered, the next unexpected turn of events unfolded. From the distance, the Delta commandos caught glimpse of two approaching vehicles. Whether they were military or not could not be determined from their present range so the Delta commandos took up immediate positions. A sniper with an M116A3 Black Mamba long-range sniper rifle locked in a five-round magazine and chambered the first round. He dropped to the desert sand, deployed the bipod, and looked through the night vision scope towards the two approaching vehicles. An invisible ranging laser told him that they were two kilometers away but that they were closing at about seventy-five kilometers per hour. They would be on their position in just ninety seconds, which was enough time for the Delta commandos to make decisions but not nearly enough to close up shop. No abort was given and Colonel Ryan waited tensely as the standoff drew nearer at twenty-one meters per second.

At one kilometer, the Delta sniper identified the targets as a bus and a fuel tanker. They were civilian but they would undoubtedly see the refueling aircraft eventually and that meant they were a risk. However, they were civilians and not the military so killing them was out of the question. "Alright neutralize the vehicles; let's get the passengers off, cleanly." Colonel Ryan ordered and the sniper didn't wait to reply. He fired off four shots, each one aimed, each one after he checked the range, and each one dead on target. The first round went into the engine block of the lead vehicle, the bus. Smoke filled the air and the bus ground to a halt. The fuel tanker, which wasn't too far behind began to slow down but it took caught two rounds to its engine block. Smoke filled the air in front of the cab and the third round smashed into the ground right near the bus's door, prompting the driver to stay inside of it.

Seconds later, twenty-six Delta commandos stood in front of the bus and the fuel tanker and ordered everyone out of the vehicles. They pointed their weapons at all of them but they did not intend to use them. They were merely props to scare the civilians into submission. It worked and the civilians were herded off of the bus and out of the fuel tanker and brought to the Desert One airstrip, everyone frightened for their lives as the Delta commandos shouted small phrases to them in Farsi telling them to keep quiet, keep their hands on their heads, and walk slowly. It was impossible to tell that these men were Layartebian from looking at them but most of the passengers could tell just by the way they spoke in Farsi. They all spoke the same dialect, which was from Tehran and it wasn't something anyone in this region of Persia spoke. It was also too grammatically correct and proper. They were certainly foreigners and it was easy to put two and two together. They could see that the operation being conducted before their very eyes was a complex one, something that only the Empire could pull off and only the Empire had the balls to do.

Minutes passed and the refueling glitch became apparent. Time was clicking away and now the Delta commandos had a new problem, which was what to do with the civilians. They couldn't release them because the risk of them running right to the police or military and explaining what they saw was too great. Killing them was so far out of the question it didn't even grace anyone's mind. They had destroyed their transportation so they had nowhere to go and walking on foot would kill them all since Tabas was too far away for a short trek. There was no transportation to bring them anywhere. In reality, the only thing they could do was to kidnap them, put them aboard the MC-130Js, and bring them back to Turkey. In light of any alternative, it was all that they could do in their given situation.

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October 26, 2011 - 02:40 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Garmsar, Iran
Desert Two
(35°22'17.29"N, 52°14'46.40"E)

The MOI agent checked his watch another ten times and practically jumped when the radio startled him with static. "See I told you that there was nothing wrong," the Force Falcon man said with a smile. "No military operation goes to plan." The static went away and the air was filled with a low sound. That was replaced with the familiar voice of one of the Force Falcon men overlooking Desert One. The frequency was wholly different from the first one and they would assume a different cover this time.

"Traiga el trípode para la fotografía de amanecer." [Bring the tripod for the sunrise photograph.]

There was no return message and the code was simple but it also told something else. There had been issues at Desert One but the mission was proceeding on schedule. The CV-22C Osprey's were in the air but they had run into a potential compromise at Desert One; however, they had handled it and they were all right for the future of the mission. Had there been no issues, they would have talked about the stars again. Had there been an abort, they would have asked to meet for coffee and breakfast. The MOI agent breathed a sigh of relief and checked his watch again. "ETA is going to be just before 04:00 hours. We're going to have to hustle when they get here." He said and the assets agreed. The four men from Force Falcon, on the other hand, still remained totally calm.

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October 25, 2011 - 19:03 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

While it was the early on October 26 in the Islamic Republic of Persia, it was only the early evening of October 25 back in Layarteb City. Only twenty minutes earlier, the last aircraft had taken off from Desert One and the two men from Force Falcon had collected their infrared strobes from the desert. By the time they left Desert One, there would be no trace that aircraft had even landed in the middle of the Persian desert. They would cover the tire tracks from the aircraft and disguise them to look like nothing but tire tracks. The biggest issue they really faced was the presence of the two disabled vehicles, both of which were not going to go anywhere. They were dead, their engines destroyed from two large-caliber bullets that few nations in the world possessed. A Layartebian-made bullet, if anyone were to recover the shell and identify it as a 15.5x115mm round, they would also know that the Empire had been there and disabled both vehicles.

They couldn't blow them up as that would draw attention to the area and attention was still unwanted, even though the aircraft had left back for home and for Desert Two and they certainly would be gone before anyone arrived. They had ensured both vehicles were clean, scraping off any identification cards, and retrieving any personal belongings from them. In essence, they were scrubbed clean. Ultimately, the decision was made to leave them where they sat, hoping that this road wasn't too frequented by military, police, or concerned citizens for at least a day or two.

Back in Layarteb City, the Emperor was in the situation room with the ministers of Defense, Foreign Affairs, and Intelligence, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and his National Security Advisor. They were waiting for news from Desert One and a situation report, which would come via coded, satellite transmission from the lead MC-130J. That message had come in at 19:00 hours but it was being decoded and verified still. When it was printed and presented to the Emperor, he had to read through it twice just to grasp what happened. He summarized it aloud for everyone in the room. "We're still go but we've been delayed. The ETA at Desert Two is around 04:00 hours so we're going to be cutting it really close. All aircraft are operational. A dust storm and unexpected radar site delayed the Osprey's but they remain undetected.

"At Desert One, two civilian vehicles, a passenger bus and a fuel tanker, came into the AO. Delta disabled the vehicles with long-range, high-caliber sniper rounds to the engine blocks. Shell casings were recovered. All passengers on the bus and the driver of the fuel truck were apprehended and placed into custody unharmed. Due to the highly sensitive nature and the likelihood that they would inform authorities, they were 'kidnapped' onto two of the MC-130Js. They were being taken back to Incirlik.

"Minister, make sure we keep them in the dark when they arrive. Any needs they have, save for communication with the outside world we will tend to, they're not our prisoners, they're our guests." The Emperor said.

"Yes sir, I will talk to the base commander personally."

"No other issues, aircraft are RTB right now flying under the radar. There was also a refueling glitch but that was minor, relatively speaking. There is no communication with the ground team at present but we presume they are carrying out post-operational cleanup of the location." The Emperor put the message down and sat back in his chair. "Twenty-four hours left."

[Layarteb]

October 26, 2011 - 04:40 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Garmsar, Iran
Desert Two
(35°22'17.29"N, 52°14'46.40"E)

The sky was brightening to the east and Colonel Ryan took one last look over the Desert Two hide site. The eight CV-22C Osprey's had come in just before 04:00 hours and rapidly descended and landed into a small valley between the mountains northeast of Garmsar. There were only a one hundred kilometer drive from the Layartebian embassy in Tehran and this was as close as they were going to get for the time being. Hastily, the Layartebian commandos, Osprey crewmen, and MOI personnel scrambled to cover the aircraft in camouflage netting that would not only hide their mask their visual appearance but also make them next to impossible to detect on the infrared spectrum as well as the microwave spectrum. Light and cutting edge, the nets were draped over each aircraft as well as a few other smaller areas where Delta commandos could rest and go over last minute details before the rescue operation.

Anywhere a kilometer or more from the aircraft and they would be impossible to see. Anywhere within that distance would be up to the Delta commandos. Colonel Ryan was now on top of a ridge, looking into the valley below and at the eight aircraft underneath their nets. Through his night vision goggles, he saw that they were difficult to detect and that was satisfactory. When more light came, he would check again but he was confident that the netting was doing its job. Their biggest threat would come from curious people walking through the area, even though there were no signs of recent human activity. The pilots and crew chiefs from the Ospreys had taken up their own positions in their aircraft and tried to rest. The goal was to sleep as much as possible during the daylight hours and then utilize the entire nighttime to conduct their rescue operation in Tehran.

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October 26, 2011 - 15:30 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
MOI Safe House, 80 meters SSW from the Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 24.31" N, 51° 25' 24.03" E)

It was quiet in the safe house and the air remained stale with the smell of cigarettes. The two men from Force Falcon who had added to the already crowded apartment were resting on the couches of the apartment when a purely mechanical sound burst through the silence. It was the vibration of a cellular phone but, in the silence of the apartment, it was like a gunshot. The man who led Team Three picked up the phone and put it to his ear, "Go for Mister White." There was silence again as Mister White listened to the voice on the other end of the line. The phone was a secure, satellite phone and it would bypass all of the microwave relays that could be eavesdropped upon by local intelligence surveillance. It connected to its own transmitter, which the men had stealthily attached to the outside of the safe house just above the window. It was barely noticeable from up close, let alone any distance. "Understood, we're go for SALT GARDEN." He hung up the phone and returned it to his pocket, barely moving an inch, and certainly not opening his eyes. Everyone who was awake, which was the five MOI assets and agents, looked his way, expecting an explanation.

"Instructions?" David asked as he hovered near the window.

"Keep doing what you're doing. Is there any new activity at the embassy? Any tanks? Any anti-aircraft weaponry? Any vehicles?"

"Nothing has changed, they're holding the perimeter."

"Good let me know if anything changes, until then, just business as usual."

"If I may ask, what's SALT GARDEN?" David hovered closer now, curious, the sweat dripping off of his face.

"Namark Lake, it's outside of Tehran, kind of far actually, we're installing a radio transmitter there tonight." He said as he resumed his slumber. He didn't answer any more questions nor did they expect him to anymore.

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October 26, 2011 - 09:30 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

It was 18:00 hours in Tehran and the evening sun was getting lower and lower on the horizon. The Emperor had returned to his office after a brief press conference. He explained yet again that the Empire was seeking a diplomatic solution with the Persians and that they expected one before the supposed "deadline." He stated that Layartebian nationals being held prisoner were being thought of on a constant basis and that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs was confident that the Persians would "do the right thing" but due to the chaotic and seemingly ambiguous nature of the seizure of the embassy, the Persians were doing their very best. It was all a lie of course and President Saoshyant laughed at the conference when he saw it. He and his senior staffers did nothing but insult and poke fun at the Emperor, wondering how he had been as a soldier if he was "this weak as a ruler." Little did they know that, one hundred and four Delta Force commandos were one hundred kilometers away, going about their final preparations.

No further seals of approval from the Emperor were required. It was now a matter of waiting for the time to pass and back in Layarteb City, to those in the loop of the operation that time couldn't be moving any slower. The Emperor was no stranger to that phenomenon and tried to occupy his time but he was concerned for both the soldiers and the nationals at the embassy. This was the riskiest part of the operation and the hardest but Delta Force was full of nothing but elite, professional soldiers who were used to waiting just as alcoholics were used to being sick. The Emperor knew that it was now all a game, a game of patience, and a game of luck. He hoped that luck was on his side and not on the side of the Persians as a single instance of bad luck for any of the Delta commandos, could lead a young boy out for a stroll right into the Desert Two hide site. They would have to capture him and hold him prisoner until the start of the operation. In fact, they were prepared for that seeming inevitability. If it happened, they would take him with them to Tehran and release him into the city after the extraction began.

"Sir, you're wanted in the situation room." The Emperor's receptionist said over the intercom.

He walked over to the intercom and pushed a button for the speaker. "Tell them I'll be there in five minutes Danielle."

"Yes sir." Unlike Judy, Danielle was a ten-year veteran of the receptionist position. She had been thirty when she was hired and now she was forty, married, with two children. She worked out every morning, jogging for an hour or two before she packed her kids' lunches and sent them off to school. Her husband picked them up and fed them dinner and she was usually home just after 19:00 hours, in time to help them with their homework and put them to bed. Her husband worked as the vice president of a financial analysis firm in the financial district of Layarteb City. Together, they made enough money to hire people to help them with the kids but they didn't believe in other people raising their kids. They were good and smart parents. Their kids were well behaved and they were smart as well. The Emperor had met them several times an even made it a point to purchase a gift for them on their birthdays. Working for the Emperor was like working in a big family, he always remembered birthdays, always understood family crises and requirements, and never once put anyone down. One could only be so lucky.

A few minutes later, the Emperor left his office and walked towards the situation room. Danielle was on the phone with someone from the press and she was making her denials of every question seem as routine as ever. He admired her more than any other receptionist because she was so good at what she did. In reality, she was the best receptionist he had and he enjoyed when her shift was on because he never had to worry about a thing. When the Emperor coded into the situation room he found that the monitors were already on and transmitting to him but they were not receiving. He activated that module and sat down, "Alright gentlemen, what's the crisis?" The Emperor said as he eyed the Minister of Intelligence and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

"Sir, we've detected an increase in Russian activity along the border with Persia."

"Of course, they're practically at war with Persia."

"Sir that is causing an increase in military activity in Persia," the Chairman said.

"Are our flight routes compromised?"

"Yes sir, I would believe that they are."

"Can we determine new routes?"

"Well yes sir we have a total of three but we could use some help from the Russians."

"A status hold is what you're saying Minister?"

"Yes sir.

"Noted, I am going to telephone the Russian President myself in about an hour. I will let you know the outcome, is there anything further?"

"No sir."

[Amigard]

October 20, 2011

Within minutes of receiving approval for aid from the Russian government half a dozen C130 Hercules transport aircraft took off from Mosul bearing the supplies that had been gathered from throughout the Theocracy. The aircraft followed a flight path that had been determined by the Russian government and the decision was made not to have the aircraft escorted by Amigard fighters, trusting instead that the Russians would ensure the supplies reached their destinations. Relief continued to pour into Mosul and other staging areas and by day’s end Theocracy officials had established a pipeline of supplies.

Each Diocese collected the supplies from their respective jurisdictions at their own staging areas and were then transported to Mosul and from there the aircraft would be refueled and then moved north into Russia destined for whatever city the Russian government assigned them to. Civilian air traffic was rerouted to accommodate the increased activity and allow for smooth operations. The supplies soon became a near constant stream of aircraft landing and taking off from Mosul. Once the supplies were delivered the C-130’s would turn around and repeat the process.

Amigard television networks were constantly running campaigns asking for donations and volunteers, and the money was beginning to pour in to a secured account established by the government where all the non-profit agencies would funnel the donations received. Amigard relief efforts were set up in such a way as to coordinate the efforts, and maximize the effectiveness of, the non-profit organizations. Rather than each individual organization attempting to establish their own independent operations the government had essentially nationalized the efforts through the establishment of the Amigard National Relief Organization (ANRO). Assets from each organization were funneled to the ANRO and utilized appropriately. Once the crisis had passed the assets would be demobilized and returned to their respective organizations. This system prevented a scattershot response effort from numerous organizations each attempting to accomplish their own goals.

Aside from the C-130 cargo planes the Amigard Army Reserves 11th Transportation Brigade was activated; its elements and equipment would be air lifted to the affected areas where its mission would be to support logistical operations for relief services. Meanwhile civilian volunteers were being transported via civilian aircraft to designated staging areas in Russia.

[Amigard]

Grozny Airport approx 25km outside of Grozny
1400hrs local time

Sister Marian Saab closed her eyes as the A330-200 passenger plane descended and with a shudder touched down at Grozny Airport. Marian breathed a sigh of relief as the aircraft began to slow and it was obvious that the wheels were not going to snap and send the plane careening along the runway in a fiery crash. At twenty four years old this was Marian’s first time on an aircraft and she couldn’t help but wonder how such small landing wheels could possible handle the impact of the aircraft as it landed.

Sister Marian had only recently taken her final vows and was eager to begin her vocation working with the poor and the downtrodden. When the call came out for volunteers to go to Russia Marian had eagerly signed up, although her level of ambition had dropped significantly when it was time to get on the plane in Amigard City. She had shut her eyes tight at every bit of turbulence and clutched her worn rosary tightly in her hands fearing that the plane would somehow fall from the sky or that the Russians would shoot the plane down in paranoia.

Marian was part of a group of volunteers from the Annunciation Catholic Church and Parish near Amigard City and they were about thirty strong mixed in with a various other groups on the plane. The plane eventually came to a stop at the terminal and Marian rose to grab her things. The group would meet near the baggage claim and then they would take a bus from the airport to wherever the Russian authorities had determined their assistance was needed.

The airport was eerily free of Russian civilians and looking out at the tarmac the presence of military aircraft seemed surreal to Marian who only hours before had boarded a plane at Amigard International Airport amidst what seemed like hundreds of civilian planes absent any hint of the military. Amigard airports certainly had a police presence but soldiers were a rare sight as even when they were traveling to and from duty stations or on furloughs they were generally dressed in civilian clothes as opposed to their uniforms. But here it seemed as though soldiers were everywhere and had the air of the commonplace about them.


Marian watched as a bulky C-130 landed and slowly made its way off of the runway. As the aircraft approached the sister could make out the image of the Amigard flag painted on the tailfin of the plane and for some reason this sight gave her some sense of comfort, like a feeling of familiarity amidst a strange land. The cargo plane eventually came to rest and slowly lowered its rear hatch and was met by a flurry of activity on the ground as ground crews moved to refuel the aircraft and forklifts made their way up the ramp to unload the relief supplies that the plane had brought. Marian watched for a moment longer before being gently nudged forward by Father Joseph Friss, the leader of her volunteer group.

The group was a mix of lay people, deacons, and nuns, all led by the priest although looking at them one would be unable to distinguish the ordained from the others as they had all agreed not to wear their religious garb while in Russia as they could not be sure how the local population would react given the nations proclaimed atheism. The relief volunteers were there to help the local people and offer aid to them not attempt to convert them. The Amigardians would bring Christ to the people of Russia, but not through some overt attempt at conversion, rather they would bring Christ’s love through their compassion and willingness to help their fellow man. It was a grand ideal for sure, and Marian was still naive enough that she didn’t yet see how difficult this would actually be.

[Layarteb]

OOC: This first segment was RP'd with Urbov over IRC.

October 26, 2011 - 10:30 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

True to his word, the Emperor picked up the phone an hour later and waited for it to connect to President Dmitri Siloviki of the Russian Union State. He had an important request for the Russian President, it had to be answered, and since it was 20:30 hours in Volgograd, the Russian capital, the Emperor hoped that he would be able to reach the Russian President. As a courtesy, the Emperor would speak to the Russian President in Russian, unless he switched to English, in which case the Emperor would maintain English. The Emperor connected first with the President's secretary much in the same way that anyone calling for the Emperor would get his receptionist, who would filter the callers. "Добрый вечер, я - Император Layarteb, и я хотел бы говорить с президентом Силовики относительно срочного вопроса. Могли Вы, пожалуйста позвольте мне говорить с ним?" [Good evening, I am the Emperor of Layarteb and I would like to speak with President Siloviki concerning an urgent matter. Could you please allow me to speak with him?

"Один момент пожалуйста." [One moment please.] The secretary stood from her desk to get President Siloviki personally and inform him of the Emperor. He was asleep and had to be woken up by her but she wasn't very far.

The President was just asleep and responded to the secretary with an angry snort. It was only several months ago that relations between the Empire and the Russian Union State were marginally normalized and for what reason would he possibly be calling? There was a distinct lack of nuclear crises and to his knowledge, there was no world changing invasion or coup occurring in or anywhere involving Russia. With a sharp tone he quickly took hold of the telephone being thrust towards him by his secretary and said "Да?" [Yes?]

The Emperor waited for President Siloviki to come to the phone and when he did, the Emperor spoke quickly but frankly, once he heard the President's voice, still wondering why anyone was asleep at this particular early hour of the evening. "Господин Президент прошу прощения для того, чтобы будить Вас, но есть вопрос предельной безотлагательности, которую я должен обсудить с Вами, и мы должны сделать так по безопасной линии." [Mister President I apologize for waking you but there is a matter of the utmost urgency I must discuss with you and we must do so over a secure line.]

The President gestured to his secretary and replied, "Линия готова в моем офисе, позволять мне момент, чтобы одеться. Инцидент вынудил меня спать, когда я могу." [A line is being prepared in my office, allow me a moment to dress. The incident has forced me to sleep when I can.] Rising quickly, Dmitri walked down the hallway from his small room in the Government Building to his Spartan office.

"Понятый господин Президент, это - налоговое время на нас всех. Империя предложила ее чувства и соболезнования российским людям по ситуации в Грозном. Является черствым актом трусостью, и мы не полагаем, что терроризм - когда-либо ответ." [Understood Mister President, this is a taxing time on us all. The Empire has offered its sentiments and condolences to the Russian people over the situation in Grozny. Is a callous act by cowardice and we do not believe terrorism is ever the answer.] The Emperor said when President Siloviki returned to the phone. "Я полагаю, что мы безопасны теперь, я правилен? Я имею уведомление в моем конце." [I believe we are secure now, am I correct? I have a notification on my end.]

"Да, мы безопасны." [Yes, we are secure.] President Siloviki responded.

"Господин Президент, поскольку Вы знаете, посольство Layartebian, упал и считается заложником персидскими 'студентами'. Я не полагаю, что они будут студентами, и мы имеем существенное количество причины подозревать, что персидские вооруженные силы замешаны и или помощь или защита этого усилия. Чтобы иметь лучшую ручку на ситуации, Империя должна будет послать силу разведки по Тегерану, состоящему из нескольких самолетов. На их полете возвращения, это помогло бы нам очень, если мы могли бы перевезти транзитом по Азербайджану и Армении. Мы возвратились бы к Турции. Нам, вероятно, также придется связаться с воздушной дозаправкой по Азербайджану." [Mister President as you are aware, the Layartebian embassy has fallen and is being held hostage by Persian 'students.' I do not believe them to be students and we have a significant amount of reason to suspect that the Persian military is complicit and either assisting or protecting this endeavor. In order to have a better handle on the situation, the Empire will have to send a reconnaissance force over Tehran consisting of several aircraft. On their return flight, it would help us greatly if we could transit over Azerbaijan and Armenia. We would be returning to Turkey. We may also have to contact aerial refueling over Azerbaijan.] The Emperor wasn't entirely trusting of President Siloviki and the RUS, despite the common enemy they both had in Persia. Billed as a reconnaissance flight, if there was a leak somewhere, the Persians would see it only as a reconnaissance flight and not the multiservice rescue effort that it really was.

The President ran his free hand across his scalp, the Empire and the Russian Union State were not particularly close allies and this reconnaissance flight could be taking as many pictures of the Persians as they were of the Russians. "Этот полет будет иметь безопасный проход через российское воздушное пространство, в обмене, который мы хотели бы быть отправленными любая информация относительно расположения персидских вооруженных сил, которыми Империя может быть во владении. Приемлемый?" [This flight will have safe passage through Russian airspace, in exchange we would like to be forwarded any information regarding the disposition of the Persian military that the Empire may be in possession of. Acceptable?]

Once the mission kicked off and completed it wouldn't matter if it were billed as a reconnaissance flight or not. When the press got a hold of it and the Russians put two-and-two together, which they would quite quickly, they would know they had been duped. The Emperor wouldn't have to give them any information since none would have been obtained but there was something to the request. The Russians obviously were going to attack Persia, it was a given but perhaps this told him something about them. They weren't very knowledgeable about the Persian military as the Empire was. "Господин Президент, я могу уверить Вас, что Империя может разделить сведения на персидских вооруженных силах. Наш главный центр этого полета находится на нашем посольстве, хотя, таким образом я не могу обещать то, что мы обнаруживаем, будет иметь много применения к Вам." [Mister President, I can assure you that the Empire can share intelligence on the Persian military. Our main focus of this flight is on our embassy though so I cannot promise what we discover will be of much use to you.]

The President responded, "Да, но поскольку это стоит, Вы путешествуете по капиталу. Вы будете видеть кое-что и если Вы не будете терять ваши самолеты тогда, то мы будем знать, что Персы не имеют радара, который другие более развитые нации делают. Любым путем Император Layarteb, вашему полету не будут досаждать российские активы." [Yes, but as it stands you are traveling over the capital. You will see something and if you do not lose your planes then we will know that the Persians do not have the radar that other more developed nations do. Either way Emperor of Layarteb, your flight will not be molested by Russian assets.]

"Это является очень добрым, и мы благодарны. Вы получите подарок в терминах того, что мы находим. Я могу уверить Вас. Я могу сказать Вам прямо сейчас, что Персы имеют хорошо развитую сеть ПВО. Это не находится на паритете с вашим или моим, но это - конечно не третья норма. Персы не обладают никаким SAMs дальнего действия, типа S-300 или S-400, насколько я знаю, но мы знаем, что они имеют очень смертельные средние и короткие системы диапазона. Тегеран замусорен с этими системами. Они также содержат артиллерию трубы для зенитного огня, хотя любой самолет, пролетающий над тремя тысячами пятьюстами метрами не должен будет волноваться. Вертолеты будут самыми уязвимыми. Кроме того, Персы имеют большое количество радаров, что они могут покрыть большинство их территории, но недостаточно что они могут покрыть всю их территорию. Полеты могут переплетаться между охватом, поскольку мы будем делать." [That is very gracious and we are grateful. You will receive a gift in terms of what we find. I can assure you. I can tell you right now that the Persians have a well developed air defense network. It is not on par with yours or mine but it is certainly not third rate. The Persians do not possess any long-range SAMs such as the S-300 or S-400 as far as I am aware but we know they have very deadly medium and short range systems. Tehran is littered with these systems. They also contain tube artillery for anti-aircraft fire though any aircraft flying over thirty-five hundred meters will not have to worry. Helicopters will be the most vulnerable. Furthermore, the Persians have plenty of radars that they can cover most of their territory but not enough that they can cover all of their territory. Flights can weave between coverage, as we shall be doing.]

"Очень хороший. Я благодарю Вас сэр за эту информацию, и я желаю Вам хорошо с вашими попытками возвратить ваших заложников." [Very good. I thank you sir for this information and I wish you well with your attempts to recover your hostages.]

"Спасибо господин Президент, мы будем в контакте после этого полета разведки. Может занимать до сорока восьми часов, чтобы обработать изображения и определить, каковы оценивают, они держатся, но пребывают в уверенности, российское правительство будет посвящено в знание относительно персидских вооруженных сил." [Thank you Mister President, we will be in touch following this reconnaissance flight. It may take up to forty-eight hours to process the images and determine what value they hold but rest assured, the Russian government will be privy to knowledge concerning the Persian military.] With that, the Emperor hung up the phone and quickly dialed the Minister of Defense. "Minister," he began. "We're safe through Russian airspace near Azerbaijan and Armenia. They say we will be fine but we must adhere to the possibility that they will track us with radar and aircraft. Issue hold-fire orders unless we're fired upon first. Otherwise they believe we're running a reconnaissance flight."

"Sir they'll figure it out once they see C-130s on their radar screen."

"By then it won't matter Minister, I will handle any fight back from the Russian President."

"Understood sir, I'll pass on the word."

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October 26, 2011 - 22:58 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
MOI Safe House, 80 meters SSW from the Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 24.31" N, 51° 25' 24.03" E)

The leader of Force Falcon Team Three rose from the couch as his watch began to beep. His alarm had been set to go off precisely at 22:58 hours and he picked up his phone and read the message that came at that moment as well. "David, how are we looking right now?" He asked. Weary and seemingly defeated, David moved over to the scope and took a look around the embassy grounds.

"Looks pretty empty, they're not doing much of anything. No reinforcements and we've seen no military elements all night."

"Good, there's going to be some activity there in the next half hour or so. Keep an eye out for reinforcements. For now stay on the scope."

"Is something happening? Are we?"

"Nothing's happening. Just keep watch." He stood up and went into another room, picked up his phone, and dialed Colonel Ryan. "Coronel, yo creo que podemos tener ese desayuno que encuentra." [Colonel, I believe we can have that breakfast meeting.] No one responded on the other line except to send the beep of pushing a number on the keypad. One beep was affirmative and two was negative. There was no second beep and the phone call ended. He returned to the living room, eyed his partner, and gave him a nod. "We're going to go out and see if we can't rile things up there. Keep an eye on it, got it? We'll be on channel two." He picked up a two-way radio and threw the other to David who caught it in the basket of his hands. "If you see reinforcements you break squelch three times. Don't say anything until we respond, got it?"

"Yes." With that, they departed from the apartment, never to return again.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:22 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

This was it, the telling moment when peace became war. The four army vehicles pulled into Tehran unopposed. Driven by the four men from Force Falcon, they stopped about a kilometer away from the embassy. The streets were dark and quiet. No one was out this particular evening and the Delta commandos found that to their advantage. Dressed in the uniforms of Persian soldiers, they poured out of their four vehicles and disappeared into the shadows of alleyways and side streets, aiming for the embassy. They moved fast, they moved quietly, and they moved without being seen until they were stacked up near the embassy. David saw them approach and quickly broke squelch three times. When"Mister White"responded, he told him what he saw at the embassy and Mister White responded nonchalantly that it was scheduled and nothing to worry about, the Persians weren't reinforcing the embassy. Inside the stuffy apartment, David sprang to life and called the other assets proclaiming that Special Forces were assaulting the compound.

One Delta troop squadron was waiting outside of the soccer stadium that was just two hundred meters northeast of the embassy's grounds. The Delta commandos would sweep through it and neutralize any hostiles, securing it for the extraction. A second troop squadron would cover them to the west and to the north, stopping any reinforcements from getting there. Three other troop squadrons lined up against the eastern walls of the embassy while the other three went to the western walls. This last group had the longest to travel and thus they were the ones to signal the start of the raid by blasting their way through the wall with a breaching charge. At that point, the men on the east would do the same and the two groups would move through their specific targets.

The clock was ticking but it wasn't ticking so fast as to negate the abilities of the Delta commandos. Then, as Colonel Ryan checked his watch and saw that it was 23:22 hours, the quiet, still, ominous Tehran air was suddenly rocked by an ear-shattering explosion. Barely ten seconds later, a second ear-shattering explosion shook the air and David, from the MOI safe house swore aloud as the seventy-eight Delta commandos stormed into the embassy compound through the newly made holes in the compound's walls. The other two squadrons hit their objectives at the exact same time.

[URBOV]

Grozny Airport

The Amigardian Volunteers were met by six Interior Ministry Troops (MVD), they all were weary having spent over two days awake and they looked it. Their squadron leader slowly made his way into the volunteer group and singled out the man who looked the oldest. Standing before him the MVD NCO slowly asked,

“Говорите ли вы русский язык?”
“Do you speak Russian?”

His radio screamed out a bit of white noise, the harsh static turning to radio chatter several moments later. The NCO tilted his head to listen and then promptly turned away from the volunteers, waving at them to follow him. He led them off of the empty tarmac and into a poorly lit tent that doubled as a briefing room. The MVD troops waved the foreigners down to the plastic chairs arranged around a makeshift podium and left, returning a few moments later with a bearded old man. The old man sat with the Amigardians and smiled kindly before saying in accented English,

“I am Father Petrovic, Chaplain to Cordon Checkpoint 217. I have been informed that the Church has provided aid to their Orthodox Cousins, for this we are most grateful. I have been told to guide you to an aid station farther outside of the Cordon, a collection point for military and civilian wounded. Your supplies are being loaded into trucks now that will follow us over. Are there any questions?”

[Layarteb]

October 26, 2011 - 23:23 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Shahid Shiroudi Stadium
(35° 42' 38.90" N, 51° 25' 38.32" E)

In the background, the rumbling from not one but two explosions signaled to Troop Squadron "Red 1" that the assault had begun. That was also the signal for them to get into the stadium and secure it. They, like the rest of the Delta commandos carried enough ammunition to light up the whole city and they also carried two weapons. For close quarters combat, they were carrying submachine guns, M112B4 Vipers chambered in .360 Auto, a powerful and deadly pistol round. In case the Persians decided to fight back with heat, they all carried M81A3 Carbines chambered in 6.8x51mm LDC. Some swapped out their Carbines for M119A2 ADEC light machine guns or M81A6 Designated Marksman Rifles, both of which also fired the 6.8x51mm round. They maintained round consistency across the board to ensure that they didn't have to bring too many different types, maximizing their loadouts. Even their pistols were chambered in .360 Auto and the only weapons other than these that they carried were grenades and several M101A1 Collapsible Lightweight Attack Weapons, which were anti-tank rockets. The heavy M116 Black Mamba rifles that had been so useful back at Desert One were left with the Ospreys due to their weight. They were useless in the city and unwieldy, even for the Delta Force commandos.

The soccer stadium was relatively small. It was no Yankee Stadium, that was for sure, and the thirteen commandos split into three groups, which separated the two, four-man assault teams and the single two-man sniper and three-man reconnaissance team into the three groups. The assault teams moved the fastest, pushing through the main vending area where patrons would have been purchasing concessions during a game. The second assault team moved through the basement and the other inner workings of the stadium. The five-man reconnaissance and sniper group hit the field of the stadium and the far end, securing it.

Through the concessions area, there was nothing to find. The Delta commandos neutralized a single, lonely security guard who was definitely unarmed except for a meager flashlight. He was part of a private security company and not police or military and in a brief moment of kindness, the Delta commandos didn't shoot him but they certainly detained him and he wasn't going to be going free until he was found by someone the next morning. Other than him, the concessions area was empty and the men from the assault team moved up to the offices that were located atop the main building. They swept through it in less than five minutes finding it just as deserted. In the locker room, the assault squad found more of the same, which was nothing. There were no security guards and no late night workers. There were no signs that anyone had been there in at least a few days and that was a comfort.

Outside, the five men from the reconnaissance and sniper squad found nobody and moved through the entirety of the field and the far end of the stadium without opposition. They found the security annex but based on what they saw inside they concluded that it was obvious that just one security guard was on duty. It appeared that two men rotated when the stadium was shut down and only one was on at a time. From there, Red 1 responded to Colonel Ryan that the stadium was secure and that they were holding for extraction. For the time being, the two snipers and two men from the reconnaissance squad took the high ground while the other nine men dispersed around, holding fast to protect the stadium from anyone who might want to stroll by and see what was happening there. In total, to seize the entire stadium, it took a total of just ten minutes.

Red 2 was the codename assigned to the single troop squadron tasked with preventing reinforcements from arriving at the stadium. They had split into four groups and moved to four positions that offered tactical superiority. The two four-man assault elements went to the corner of the main road, which ran between the stadium and the embassy and the road that ran north of it and the corner on the same main road and the small road that ran south of the stadium. The three men from the reconnaissance element moved to a position on the stadium's northeast corner and watched the northern road to the east while the two-man sniper squad went to the southeastern corner and watched the southern road to the east. They had been in position once the explosions filled the air and made no movements once the explosions filled the air. Instead, they held fast, standing their ground, waiting for the inevitable arrival of curious Persian military forces or Tehrani police.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:25 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

The three squadrons assaulting the embassy from the east had the codenames of Blue 1, Blue 2, and Blue 3. Once the wall had been breached, they moved into the embassy walls with stunning speed. With their night vision goggles attached to their eyes, they saw perfectly in the dark and they watched as several militiamen on patrol appeared and then, suddenly, disappeared after being struck by two-round bursts of .360 Auto fire. The men were firing their weapons as if they were on a sort of selector mode but they were, in reality, all on full auto. These men had trained with these weapons so many times that it was mere muscle memory to them when they fired and each shot let off just two rounds. Ammunition was precious, despite how much they carried, and these men were experts at making each round not only count but also last. They had entered into a small parking lot, which was in front of an auxiliary building. One troop squadron went right into the auxiliary building while the other two went north to the ambassador's residence and towards a few auxiliary buildings to the north of the residence.

The first troop squadron hit the auxiliary building, which served as a sort of quarters for Layartebian nationals. They entered through the front door that they opened with a quick blast of a shotgun. Flashbang grenades followed the opening of the door and the men moved in afterwards, one behind the other, moving with the hallways. The men kept together and moved as one. They split up at specific hallways, moving through each one, checking every door. Most of the doors were locked but those locks were barely able to withstand the full force of their legs as they kicked through doors one right after the other. The echoing of doors slamming against the cinder block walls filled the auxiliary building and door knobs were dented just as concrete from the cinder blocks was chipped off of the walls. They poured through the auxiliary building over the next six minutes but it was empty and there were no militiamen or hostages within its walls. That was a good sign and Blue 1 moved to their secondary objective.

Blue 2 went into the ambassador's residence and in there they met six militiamen. They had caught them by a bit of a surprise but the sound of gunfire and the explosions had alerted them to the presence of hostile forces. When the Delta commandos hit the ambassador's residence, they hit it hard and killed three militiamen right off the bat. They didn't stand a chance against the bullets from the Delta commandos. The other three had been in some sort of cover position and they opened fire against the Delta commandos, momentarily pinning them down until Flashbang grenades soared over their heads and exploded. All three of them hit the ground, writhing in pain but they never saw light again nor did they regain their hearing. They were dead within seconds and the Delta commandos pushed inwards, clearing the first floor in only ninety seconds before moving up to the second floor, where they met another four militiamen. It appeared that one of them was the commander but he wasn't going to surrender and like the rest, he fell to gunfire. Blue 2 was in and out of the ambassador's residence in only five minutes, and in that time, they had dropped ten militiamen. They, like Blue 1, moved to their next objective.

Blue 3 moved into the auxiliary buildings to the extreme north of the compound and worked their way from the southern buildings up to the north. They found only two sentries standing guard, shot, and killed them quite quickly before they pushed into open courtyard and into the final buildings to the north. They were all devoid of human life and the two sentries were the only militiamen that they found. In a mere eleven minutes, the Delta commandos from Blue group had secured and cleared the entire north of the compound.

Blue group had their secondary objectives now to go through, which meant going through a slew of residential quarters just to the west of the ambassador's residence. They would have to hit these buildings as one element because there were so many of them but thankfully, because they were connected, they could move through them with a level of speed that the militiamen couldn't defend against whatsoever.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:24 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

The final three troop squadrons were part of "Green" group and given the unit callsigns of Green 1, Green 2, and Green 3. They breached and entered the embassy first, moving in through the western wall where they signaled the start of the raid. They had entered in the motor pool of the embassy and together, the thirty-nine men moved through the mechanic's shop, the garage, and through the exterior of the motor pool, identifying militiamen standing guard. They shot everyone that was holding a weapon and they didn't bother to ask them to surrender either. They moved with the same speed and the same precision that everyone else moved and with them was Colonel Ryan, who was firing his weapon just as if he were a young operator himself.

From the motor pool, Green 1 went east into a section with utility and auxiliary buildings. Many of the embassy's deliveries were handled in these buildings and the men had to make sure that there were no militiamen there. All of the places where hostages were suspected of being kept, save for the chancellery, had been searched. Now it was just a matter of killing the bad guys who held the embassy and ensuring that none of them shot any of the Delta commandos in the back. Green 2 moved into the tennis courts and parking lot just north of the chancellery while Green 3 moved to the chancellery itself. That was when the real shooting started.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:30 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
MOI Safe House, 80 meters SSW from the Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 24.31" N, 51° 25' 24.03" E)

David had called everyone to the windows and they watched in the darkness as the Delta commandos stormed through the embassy compound. "Holy crap!" David kept saying over and over again as the Deltas moved with speed. From his position he couldn't see any muzzle blasts but he did watch the militiamen drop dead left and right. The reason he couldn't see any muzzle blasts because the Delta commandos were using suppressors that hid their muzzle flashes and helped reduce the sound of their gunshots. The militiamen had little chance to return fire but had they, their muzzle flashes would have lit up the night. Inside of the apartment, the men spoke in Farsi as they watched the events unfold. People around the area had come to their windows to look at the embassy and see what was happening. Everyone around knew that the embassy was under the control of the militiamen and they were all too scared to go near it.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:35 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Tehran, Iran
Over Tehrani Airspace

The assault of the embassy was just one part of this operation. The second part of the operation was being provided by the air force. The three MC-130Js were already inbound for the extraction and they had all been modified over the past few days with jettisonable rocket packs that would not only help their landing but also help their takeoff. One set would be used for the landing and quickly discarded while the other set would be used for the takeoff and discarded once they were back in the air. However, these three aircraft were flying low and at top speed, weaving around radar coverage. Along with them was a pair of AC-42B Atlas gunships, which would be arriving over Tehran in less than ten minutes, just in time to assist in the extraction and protect the men on the ground. Before they could come in though, other aircraft had to do their duties over Tehrani airspace.

The first group was a four-ship formation of F-57A Wraith air superiority fighters. Carrying eight air-to-air missiles internally and a pair of stealthy, external fuel tanks, these four fighters had the radar signature of a ball bearing and that was for good purpose. They would fly a racetrack pattern around Tehran, using their FLIR to look for hostile fighters. If any Persian fighters or attack helicopters ascended into the air, they would be shot down without delay. The Layartebian fighters flying overhead were too high to be seen and too quiet to be heard.

The second group was a four-ship formation of F-58A Viper multirole fighters. These were loaded with a slew of anti-air and anti-ground weaponry. For self-defense, each of the four fighters was carrying four air-to-air missiles. However, the loadouts thereafter changed variably. Some of the fighters were carrying Harbinger anti-tank guided missiles, AARGM anti-radiation missiles, Paveway III laser-guided bombs, and SDB GPS-guided bombs. When the Wraiths arrived overhead, so too did the Vipers but unlike the Wraiths, the Vipers weren't very stealthy and they weren't meant to be either. Callsign Hellraiser 1-1 through 1-4, the four Vipers broke off once they entered the city and focused on their primary objective, anti-aircraft defenses around the stadium and the city. In the southwest of the city, there was the primary objective, a radar site that was the target of Hellraiser 1-1.

Equipped with two AARGM missiles, the pilot of Hellraiser 1-1 put one into the radar and subsequently blinded the Persian military of the skies around the city. Hellraiser 1-2, which was equipped primarily with anti-tank guided missiles went on a hunt for mobile anti-aircraft units and put three missiles into the skies to destroy three exposed anti-aircraft guns. Though manually operated, the ZU-23s could have done a number on the approaching MC-130Js. Hellraiser 1-3 was mainly loaded with SDB bombs and concentrated its attention on a medium-range surface-to-air site just to the north of the city. The pilot dropped just three bombs, taking out the site's radar, its generator unit, and its command unit. In doing so, the pilot turned the various surface-to-air missiles into useless hunks of metal. Hellraiser 1-4, carrying a slew of Paveway III laser-guided bombs, was going to be on call for CAS, if it was needed.

[Layarteb]

October 26, 2011 - 23:40 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Shahid Shiroudi Stadium
(35° 42' 38.90" N, 51° 25' 38.32" E)

While the true conflict unfolded only a few hundred meters away, the Shahid Shiroudi Stadium remained a quiet and humbling place. The Delta Force commandos who were holding the stadium were all standing around, essentially doing nothing. From their high perches, the snipers and their spotters watched as curtains were thrust to the side and blinds were raised from all of the windows around the embassy. Curious civilians had come out of their darkened or dimly lit apartments and moved to the windows to see what the commotion was about and who was doing the shooting. It had been the wall breaching charges that originally alerted them to the presence of military activity but they had little to do idea what was truly unfolding before their eyes at the besieged Layartebian embassy. In the darkness of Tehran, they wondered what was happening at the embassy as thin clouds of smoke ascended from the embassy's grounds.

Taking notice of this, the snipers and spotters saw that the Tehranis were a curious bunch of civilians but it was no surprise that they would do this. In reality, nobody saw the civilians of Persia as an enemy of the Empire. It was the Persian military, the corrupt and oppressive regime under President Saoshyant, and the Al-Shams terrorists who sought refuge within the borders of the protective nation. The Persian civilians, like any other oppressed people simply kept their heads down, trying to avoid the secret police and military checkpoints where they would be threatened and accused of being spies for the "corrupt" Western powers, chiefly the Empire. Of course, the Empire had well over a dozen spies operating in Persia at any time and another four agents of the MOI assigned to the country. Until recently, it had an MOI station in the embassy but in the evacuation, all of the expensive but sensitive and classified equipment had been sabotaged and destroyed. Nobody would get a single secret out of it and for that, the station personnel were going to be awarded with commendations when they arrived home.

In watching the area around the embassy and the stadium, the snipers and spotters noted that as the living room and bedroom lights clicked on and gave illumination to the many windows that there were no sirens on the horizon. There were no police coming and no sign of any military presence either. That was ominous and foreboding in and of itself, especially since the embassy was a high priority target for the military who was so obviously in league with the government and their repressive military. They expected at least a platoon of soldiers, likely Persian Special Forces, to approach the embassy and assist the Al-Shams militiamen who had taken over the sacred, diplomatic compound. However, nothing had come yet and then, at 23:40 hours, the entire city went dark and that wasn't by the Persian's doing either.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:42 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

1LT Duncan was in command of Blue element and also the leader of Blue 1. His troop squadron and the two other troop squadrons had quickly made their way to their secondary objective, which were a series of residential accommodations for staffers and Layartebian nationals as well as small security annex, the DPG's command building, and some other auxiliary buildings. They had moved through their first objective in just eleven minutes and in doing so, they had tore through the ambassador's residence and several other structures with lightning speed and precision, hitting the buildings almost simultaneously and not long after they had breached the wall. Now, they fanned out and entered the various buildings at their second objective, entering through doors that they blew open with shotgun blasts and door breaching charges. Here, they found at least two dozen militiamen, all of them armed, all of them confused, and all of them anxious to fight.

The gunfire started almost immediately and it was incoming first rather than outgoing. To the Delta commandos that made little difference though. They were trained warriors who knew when to shoot and when not to shoot. They didn't spray off rounds wildly like the Al-Shams terrorists were. Those rounds that were incoming were ineffective and though they were numerous, they weren't anything to fret just yet. Delta commandos returned fire in bursts of two and four rounds a piece. They put their rounds right on target though, which was something the terrorists weren't doing. Lacking body armor, the terrorist's had little chance in surviving the rushing onslaught and it was obvious when five of them fell to the floor in as many seconds that they were outgunned. Some of the terrorists turned and ran, only to get shot in the back. Others stood their ground or were already behind some cover. In such a fight, cover was cover, no matter how feeble it was.

In that melee though, the Delta commandos were obviously winning as they pushed through each building, cornering the terrorists, essentially encircling them between the three troop squadrons. Blue 1 had gone to the northernmost buildings and Blue 2 to the southernmost. Blue 3 remained in the courtyard where terrorists were flooding into in their hasty retreat. It was here than several of them met their fate, dropping like dead flies to the high-power, rifle rounds of Blue 3's M81s. However, this wasn't all a picnic for Blue element. The fighting was intense, it was heavy, and tragedy struck when a sniper, armed with a Dragunov SVD sniper rifle managed to get just a breath of time to sight and fire his rifle. The round, a 7.62x54mmR Russian round left the barrel moving at over a half of a mile per second and slammed into the neck of a Delta commando in Blue 3 before he ever heard the shot. With tremendous force, the one hundred and eighty-one grain bullet entered his neck just below his right ear, and snapped the highest vertebrae on his neck instantly.

By the time, he hit the ground, he was dead, and that was all in a matter of milliseconds. He felt no pain and he suffered for immeasurable amounts of time that was how quickly the round killed him. The bright muzzle flash of the sniper rifle was a beacon though and before the sniper could get off another round, a 40-millimeter, high-explosive, fragmentation grenade slammed into the window and showered his face with fragments, shredding it as if it were a block of cheese on a coarse, metal grinder. Like his victim, he too was dead before he hit the ground and in that instant, in that one-for-one trade, the two souls crossed each other on their journey into the afterlife but which afterlife they would each go to was a mystery to even the most devout of people.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:44 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

COL Ryan was leading Green element and he was the leader of Green 3. He was an extra gun to the men in the siege and for an old colonel he was fighting as if he were a freshly drafted sergeant first class. He had taken down half a dozen men already and he did it all with twelve rounds from his submachine gun. Green 1 had already moved into the utility and auxiliary section and they were finding minimal resistance there. In the initial shootout, they shot two terrorists dead and watched a third escape but they were sure he was waiting to set up an ambush. This forced them to move a bit more cautiously but they certainly didn't slow down their pace to a crawl. Instead, they doubled up on corners and made sure to keep their ears open for the signs of a human's unwanted presence.

Green 2 had swept through the tennis courts and parking lot in mere seconds and moved to the rear of the chancellery. Green 3 was in the front. Together, the two squadrons of Delta commandos were shooting and killing any of the terrorists who appeared at the windows. Firing just as wildly and panicky as the rest of their cohorts, the terrorists were doing nothing to the Delta commandos but announcing where they were. Now, with Green 2 in place, the assault on the chancellery began. The two assault teams of each squadron led the way, placing their breaching charges on the doors and standing back while they were blasted off with the tremendous forces applied to them by the C4 plastic explosive used in the charges. Once inside of the chancellery, Green 2 spit itself apart to maneuver more quickly and effectively. The two-man sniper and a four-man assault team moved down to the basement, where the secure parts of the embassy were located. The three-man reconnaissance and other four-man assault team covered the first floor. They hit from the eastern side. Green 3 split itself in the same way and hit the same parts of the chancellery but from the embassy's western side.

The chancellery was a four-story structure and while the assault teams moved through the actual floors, the reconnaissance and sniper teams provided rear-security, covering the stairs. The whole operation had been rehearsed time and time again inside of a large hangar near the Delta Force base in North Carolina. Using tape and other items, the Delta commandos had outlined the floor plans to each floor of the chancellery and practiced what they were going to be doing. It took the better part of a day for them to make the mock chancellery and they trained hard every day thereafter until COL Ryan informed the Emperor that they were ready to go. They ran through the mock assault at least fifty times per day, always analyzing what they did at the end of the day. The men gave suggestions and it had been during the first run that they realized rear-security was going to be necessary. Other operators, feigning the terrorists had taken out three guys from the rear before they were killed themselves. In the final run of the plan, Delta planners had converted one of their training structures into the chancellery, which had taken the full two weeks to accomplish.

Delta teams acted as opposing forces and the Delta commandos of Green 2 and Green 3 ran the exercise ten times, losing only one man and on the third run of the day. They used paintball guns and used Flashbangs and door breaching charges, simulating the real assault. By then it had become muscle memory and now that they were actually carrying that assault out, the muscle memory had kicked in and both Green 2 and Green 3 tore into the chancellery just as if they were doing it on their base. The only real difference was here they were using real bullets. On the basement level, the two Delta assault teams found a half of a dozen hostages, all of them from the DPG. Three terrorists protecting them lasted all of fifteen seconds before they found themselves incapable of living any further. The men quickly ascertained the condition of the six hostages and found that they were all right. Three of them were given the weapons from the terrorists and strict orders to remain in the basement until they heard a specific codeword. If anyone came down the stairs that didn't say the codeword, they were hostile and to be killed without hesitation.

On the first floor, the Delta commandos had to step over several bodies of dead terrorists who had been killed when Green 3 arrived first. They continued through offices and down hallways, killing twelve more terrorists without taking a single wound to themselves. It was obvious that the level of training that these Al-Shams terrorists had was not up to par and they largely fought with amateur tactics, as if they had played too many video games. There was no coordination and they often left one another exposed as they reloaded. To the Delta commandos, it was almost like shooting fish in a barrel and within only eight more minutes, they all stacked up at the stairwells again, Green 3 on the west and Green 2 on the east. They moved up to the second and third floors, hitting those in the same, exact manner. However, there was nothing easy about either the second or the third floors like there was to the basement and ground level.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:48 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
MOI Safe House, 80 meters SSW from the Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 24.31" N, 51° 25' 24.03" E)

David, his partner in the MOI, and their three assets continued to watch the embassy grounds. They were silent, just watching the festivities unfold before them. With the chancellery under siege, they knew it was only a matter of minutes before the Layartebians declared the whole embassy secure. Through this silence, each one of them formed a thousand questions in their heads. They wondered how the Layartebians had gotten to the embassy undetected, how many there were, how they were going to get out, and what the mysterious Mister White and his partner were doing. They wondered a lot of other things too but mostly this was idle curiosity and excitement that they had played some sort of role in this assault.

When the power had gone out in the city, they saw the fight more clearly. Their night vision scopes, of which they had only two, showed them everything that there was to see. David hogged one but the other four men took turns on the other. The bright muzzle flashes from the Al-Shams terrorists would have hurt their eyes had they been closer, there were that many of them. It was then, after twenty-five minutes of watching the embassy unfold that David realized he and his men still had a job to do. "Guys, guys!" He said aloud, breaking the silence but keeping his eyes on the embassy. "The Persians will send military and police. Where is that radio?" He looked behind him and continued in Farsi. "Look at the streets and tell me if you see any military or police, got it?" He began scanning to the west, wondering if the Persian authorities were on their way at that very moment and how the Layartebians would dispense with them when and if they did arrive to help.

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October 26, 2011 - 23:38 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Tehran, Iran
Over Tehrani Airspace

Hellraiser 1-4 had vectored off of the main flight loop two minutes earlier, on orders from command. Command had sent a coded message to Hellraiser 1-4 with a target of opportunity that its pilot was to destroy. That target was only a few miles northwest of the embassy and it was going to be easily found, and true to their word, it was. The pilot of Hellraiser 1-4, CAPT Adam Fordham was loaded heavy with ordinance and was more than thrilled at losing some of it.

On his centerline hardpoint he had been carrying an external fuel tank but that had already been discarded since it was emptied first, before his main tanks. On his four fuselage hardpoints, his aircraft was carrying four AIM-120D-9 AMRAAM air-to-air missiles, just in case the Persians got into the skies and got away from the Wraiths. His port chin hardpoint was carrying a small electronic countermeasures pod that was running. On his inner wing hardpoints, he was carrying a pair of two-thousand pound, GBU-27B/B Paveway III laser-guided bombs, equipped with penetrating BLU-116/B warheads. On his center wing hardpoints he was carrying four GBU-49(V)4/B Paveway II laser-guided bombs equipped with BLU-126/B warheads that were designed for low fragmentation and a smaller blast radius. They were great for close air support. On his two, outer wing hardpoints, he was carrying six AGM-230A Harbinger anti-tank guided missiles and on his wingtip hardpoints he was carrying a pair of AIM-204B Escape air-to-air missiles. As if that weren't enough, on his upper fuselage, he was also carrying a pair of conformal fuel tanks, each one adding an extra four hundred and fifty gallons of precious fuel to his aircraft.

While Hellraiser 1-1, 1-2, and 1-3 went after their own targets, CAPT Fordham was left circling the skies until command gave him this target. Since he was the only one carrying laser-guided bombs and heavy ones at that, he was the best candidate to strike this specific target. He acquired it first on his FLIR and electro-optical (EO) sensor and from there decided where he was going to put his bombs. He selected the main structure, bounced his laser designator off of it, and watched as his range to the target decreased. At four miles, he released one of his GBU-27s and felt the aircraft lighten underneath him as the twenty-two hundred pound bomb found itself falling thanks to gravity.

On the Paveway III, the rear wings popped out and the bomb nosed down, guiding itself by the laser-designator of the Viper. It made its required course corrections and homed in on the laser spot. Thirty-five seconds ticked down on his MFD and he watched as the target eventually was directly underneath him. As the FLIR picture flipped around, the bomb struck, smashing right into the main building with a circular error probability of just one meter. The fireball lit up the sky and then a shockwave filled the target and sparks and bright blue explosions lit up the night sky as transformers and generators overloaded and exploded. In a rush, the city soon became dark as juice from the city's main power relay facility was suddenly cut off from the bomb. The city went dark as grid after grid tripped off, filling the city with utter darkness. It was 23:40 hours at that point and CAPT Fordham returned to his patrol orbit, itching to use the rest of his ordinance against the Persians.

[Layarteb]

October 26, 2011 - 23:52 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

Green 2 and Green 3 were ready, stacked up, and prepared to move to the second and third floors of the chancellery. Just as the basement and the first floor, they were going to be fighting with the assault teams while the sniper and reconnaissance teams provided rear security. By now though, the Al-Shams terrorists holding the chancellery were ready, waiting, and eager to take on the Delta commandos. They exercised a strong degree of patience and cunning deception as they took covered positions and hardpoints, using hostages as human shields where they could. It would seem that these terrorists were likely the better trained of those at the embassy but they were still far below the training abilities mastered by the Delta Force commandos. Flashbangs signaled the start of the assaults and they came from both ends of the chancellery as Green 2 and Green 3 hit simultaneously from the eastern and western stairwells of the chancellery.

On the second floor, Green 2 immediately began taking fire. The Flashbang had only a limited effect against the terrorists and the presence of several human shields didn't help the matter as the Delta commandos suddenly had to aim more cautiously. Of course, these were men who trained several times a day, every day, shooting at targets using human shields. They did it with live ammunition in a shoot house with paper targets and other commandos acting as hostages and they did it with paintball and Airsoft guns on even larger exercises. In all reality, using a human shield wasn't a surefire way to defend against a Delta commando it was merely an annoyance that forced him to slow down, aim more carefully, and that meant less chance for him to make a mistake. That kicked in here and the men of Green 2 did just that, dropping three terrorists who stuck their head's out long enough to give the Delta commandos a shot. The accuracy of their .360 Auto submachine guns was unparalleled and coupled with night vision goggles and infrared lasers it was a lot easier for them to shoot.

Bullets whizzed through the air, most of them from the terrorists who fired wildly and more in a suppressive than a direct nature. The Delta commandos returning fire did so with single shots at a time and from concealed locations just the same. They moved up and continued to clear through the second floor, engaging terrorists as they emerged from offices and around blind corners. It was slow going but the Delta commandos eventually converged on each other's position and declared the second floor secure. Within it, they rescued at least another forty-something hostages, many of whom were being used as shields. Blindfolded, bound, and in some cases gagged, the hostages were more than surprised when the shooting started and even more surprised when they had Layartebian commandos ushering them to a safe point within the second floor. There were a few men from the DPG mixed in and they were given terrorist weapons and the codeword just like those in the basement. The terrorists believed that separating the DPG guards was a wise idea but now it was turning out to be a brilliant idea, for the Layartebians at least, who had a natural source of protection for the hostages while they trounced through the rest of the embassy's grounds.

On the third floor, the situation was more or less the same but the fighting was twice as intense. Many of the Al-Shams terrorists were making their stand up there and they brought with them the balance of the hostages. Some of them were wounded from ricochet fire already but the situation didn't get any better as the terrorists fired wildly and unpredictably. It was just as much of a slugfest-melee on the third floor as it was on the second but the Delta commandos ultimately prevailed just the same. They had a few superficial wounds to write home about but they were all still standing and all ready for the roof and the fourth floor, the last two places to clear.

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October 27, 2011 - 00:10 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Tehran, Iran
Over Tehrani Airspace

The three MC-130Js were less than thirty minutes out and drawing closer and close to Tehran by the minute. Already overhead, the two AC-42B Atlas gunships had assumed their orbits, covering the city from overhead for the Delta commandos and the inevitable extraction. On the ground, Blue element was converging on the chancellery and Green 1 was on its way to secure the eastern wall's escape route, which was going to be the hole that the Delta commandos blasted in it to infiltrate the embassy.

The skies had remained reasonably quiet though. The Persians had made no attempts at putting aircraft into the skies and that seemed extremely odd to the Layartebians. Still, the Wraiths would not let their guard up for even just one second. The Vipers had already had enough fun for the day but they continued to remain overhead, searching for any ground targets that could pose a threat. In a city like Tehran, there could be a thousand of them within a ten mile radius and that was probably a conservative guess. Hellraiser 1-4 and its pilot CPT Fordham were essentially without a mission until command had given him the order to strike the power relay station. He had expended just one bomb and with it, put out all of the lights in Tehran. Now he was circling overhead, waiting for the next target, itching to get rid of his second GBU-27, which was weighing his aircraft down unnecessarily so.

Lucky for him, that second target came as command had another idea in mind. Mehrabad International Airport was the primary airport for airport and it served both the military and the civilian populace alike. For the civilians, it offered two runways for constant takeoffs of large aircraft and for the military, it offered a pair of four-thousand meter runways that they could use at will. With one bomb, there was little that CPT Fordham could do to the runway itself. He could disable one but the other would still be usable and his other bombs would do nothing against the runway. However, the Empire had a particular piece of intelligence about Mehrabad International Airport that the Persians didn't expect them to have and, in this particular situation, it came in amazingly handy.

At Mehrabad International Airport, the Persian Air Force maintained a sort of decentralized coordination point. This bunker was more or less used by the air force to coordinate operations over Tehran and other parts of eastern Iran. It wasn't a particularly high value target but it was essential to the Persian Air Force and right now, they remained the biggest threat to the Empire's operations. Knowing the exact location, command transmitted the information via encrypted, satellite datalink to Hellraiser 1-4 and CPT Fordham changed course and found the target with his FLIR. It wasn't much to see, just a tin shack or so it seemed. The real meat was underneath the shack in an armored bunker that his GBU-27 would have no issues penetrating, especially with the BLU-116 warhead. As with the power relay station, he aimed his laser designator and closed to within four miles before he released the last of his two-thousand pound bombs. Thirty-five seconds later, the bomb connected with the target, penetrated through the tin shack, shattering it in an instantaneous millisecond, proceeded through the armored roof of the bunker, and detonated. The ground around Mehrabad International Airport shook and a bright and brilliant fireball filled the pitch-black, night sky. The strike had been a success and dealt a crippling blow to the Persian military on this, of all nights.

[Layarteb]

October 27, 2011 - 00:15 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

The last few gunshots echoed loudly over the embassy as the final Al-Shams militiaman took a burst to the stomach that cut him down. A second burst to the head left him for dead where he lay, which was on the roof of the Layartebian chancellery, its flag still flying high in the breeze. COL Ryan had taken the rest of Green 3 back into the embassy and they were beginning to round up the hostages. Those would couldn't walk on their own would have to be carried by more able-bodied hostages as the Delta commandos needed to be able to shoot effectively. A few children who had endured a harrowing ordeal would have to be carried as well but more for the sake of speed than injury. Green 1 had swept to the extraction zone and they were already in place, guarding the wall and looking for more hostiles. Blue element had surrounded the outside of the embassy on the eastern side and was going to be acting as a barrier force while the escape occurred, falling back progressively as each group of hostages exited. To make things fast, the Delta commandos would move the hostages out in groups of ten with a Delta assault or reconnaissance and sniper team protecting them as they made their way to the stadium across the street.

As the elements of Green 2 moved down the stairs towards the first floor, they left a single assault team on the roof. That team had one purpose and one purpose only, which was to pull down the Layartebian flag, fold it up, and get out of dodge with it. As they did so and saw the flag for its full form in the wind, they saw that it was riddled with bullet holes. It would require a proper burial eventually, which would be a ceremonial burning. That was for later though, for now, time was of the essence. With the hostages paraded to the first floor, the wounded identified and ready to go, and the children in arms, the Delta commandos began their extraction. It was a coordinated effort but one that was going to be as orderly and speed as if this weren't a crisis at all. Two groups of hostages were moved to the wall first. One group would move to the stadium. Another group of hostages would come to the wall. When the first group arrived at the stadium, the second group was to leave. Then another group would come to the wall and they would do that quickly, moving as fast as they could down the street towards the stadium.

For the first five groups, everything went orderly and quickly. The wounded, the women, and the children were all moved first. That was simple chivalry and in a time like this, chivalry was more important than ever. As the sixth group departed from the wall, there rang out a burst of gunfire but it came from inside of the embassy walls. Outside, the hostages, frightened, were ushered more quickly to the stadium as the Delta commandos within the walls looked for the source of the fire. They had been looking all around but they were caught by surprise. In the confusion, two of the hostages dropped to the ground, both of them wounded, one in the leg and the other in the stomach. "Quick! Get these guys out of here!" COL Ryan yelled as the sixth and seventh group of hostages departed from the wall, traveling together in a confused mess towards the stadium. The fifth had only just reached the stadium at that point and now there was a bit of a backlog. COL Ryan checked his watch and cursed aloud. "Covering fire, bring up the next group, we've got to get moving." They didn't know it but in the distance, to the north, the first MC-130J had just lowered its landing gear and set its flaps for landing.

As the eighth group came towards the wall, there was more gunfire but it was harmless and undirected. Whoever the shooter was, he was close but he wasn't making himself obvious and there was no muzzle flash. They realized that he likely had a flash suppressor on his weapon and that made things that much more difficult. The eighth group came to the wall and took off with such speed that the ninth group wasn't ready to move out but they did, ushered along by the Delta commandos who told them that their lives were at stake. Fear was a motivator that they would use not to paralyze the hostages but to light a fire underneath their collective asses. The ninth group, full of able-bodied men, sprinted as if they were all running a track race. As they came to the wall though, a new sound filled the air and one of the Delta commandos looked down to see a small, spherical object rolling towards him. "GRENADE!" He yelled aloud as he dove forward. It was too far away to kick and there wasn't enough time to do anything but to fall forward.

Seconds later, the grenade exploded. Obviously, the unseen enemy didn't know how to cook off a grenade or he was too scared to do it and in that instance, the grenade shredded through the body armor of the Delta commando. His body shielded the blast though and the hostages took off running at the instance of COL Ryan who called the next group up to the wall. This would be the final group and as they came running, a Delta commando spotted a pair of feet behind a car only forty meters away. He leveled his M81A3 Carbine, sighted the M320A1 grenade launcher attached to the barrel, and fired. The grenade shot out with a thump and sailed over the car and into the car just next to it. With a brilliant explosion, both cars were lit aflame and out came running the Al-Shams militiaman, his body engulfed in flames from the detonation of the fuel tanks. He was screaming, writhing, trying to put out the flames but he only got a few meters before he collapsed over and ceased moving.

The tenth group took off running as COL Ryan and his assault team, the last Layartebians inside of the compound, moved over to their stricken and fallen comrade. The first casualty had already been carried to the stadium with the first group by one of the lead Delta commandos and now this one would have to go the same way. In the distance, the noise of propellers filled the air as the MC-130J flared for landing and the extraction began. "Turn him over; let's get him out of here." COL Ryan said as they flipped over the Delta commando whose vest had been turned to confetti. In that instance, he coughed and the men froze. He was alive! "Jesus Christ, c'mon let's get him out of here. How are you son?" COL Ryan said as he knelt down. The Delta commando was bruised and in bad shape but he was alive and he didn't appear to be losing a tremendous amount of blood. "Can you walk?" The commando nodded that he couldn't and his body went limp but he continued to breathe.

In a matter of seconds, the men unfolded a collapsible stretcher that they were carrying and quickly lifted their fallen brethren onto the stretcher and began to hump it out of the wall. COL Ryan took the lead of the stretcher and the team leader took the lead as they ran out of the embassy and down the street. They did so just in time to see a brilliant fireball and cloud of smoke fill the sky above the stadium.

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October 27, 2011 - 00:32 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Taleqani, Tehran, Iran
Layartebian Embassy
(35° 42' 29.0118" N, 51° 25' 26.9502" E)

"How you looking on your end?" The pilot of the lead MC-130J asked of his co-pilot. The two were as calm and quiet as ever, even if their hearts were racing and their skin was clammy with sweat.

"Good here." The co-pilot responded. "One hundred meters." He said as he watched a number on his HUD gradually descend. A small laser rangefinder had been installed on the MC-130Js nose and it was locked onto the top wall of the stadium, which was rapidly coming closer in front of them.

"Hit em!" The pilot said as that distance closed to just fifty meters. The MC-130J was barely above stall speed as it was with the flaps as low as they could go and the engines at idle. With that command, the aircraft began a violent shuddering as a pair of rocket boosters just behind the rear wheels fired, sending a brilliant flame downwards. The stadium began to fill with smoke as the MC-130J began to lose speed rapidly. Its descent increased but the pilots held onto their yokes and kept the aircraft at a positive angle-of-attack. The aircraft was practically hovering the second the back wheels touched down, just outside of the end zone of the soccer field. The MC-130J had hit with a thud so hard that everyone inside was thrown a few centimeters into the air. Thankfully, they all wore their harnesses and they did so tightly so that they remained in their seats.

The second the nose wheel touched down, the navigator pushed a second button on his console and the entire cabin of the aircraft exploded in a deafening roar. The windows were covered with smoke as two rocket boosters that were above the cockpit and aimed upwards, instantly fired. The whole nose of the aircraft dove forward and the pilots slammed on the brakes of the aircraft. A second and a half later, as the aircraft's nose was being pushed into the ground, two more rocket boosters fired, and then everyone was yanked forward, once again, their harnesses kept them in their seats. The roar continued to be deafening both inside of the aircraft and outside of it.

Around the soccer stadium, the Delta snipers watched in awe as the big MC-130J touched down on the field and in less than one hundred meters, came to a screeching halt thanks to the aide of six rocket boosters that had burned themselves out sequentially in the same order they were fired. "Reaper 01 you're down! Good landing!" One of the snipers said, offering his encouragement to the flight crew as the MC-130J, engulfed in a cloud of smoke, stopped in the soccer stadium. "Reaper 01, cleared to pivot." The same sniper said. Obviously, he had been designated as the ground traffic controller for the operation.

Inside of the main tunnel to the field, hostages were cowering out of sheer exhaustion. Aside from their mistreatment at the hands of their captors, they had run as hard as they could to the soccer stadium. They were all out of breath and those who were wounded were equally as exhausted. The Delta commandos, who guarded them, watched in amazement as the MC-130J came to a halt. They had only been told how they would get out, they hadn't seen any of the tests that had been done, and now they were witnessing it first hand, in the middle of Tehran. They continued to watch as the MC-130J pivoted and pulled a 180° turn as its rear ramp lowered. A man in a flight suit with a pistol strapped to his thigh threw off his headphones and jumped off of the aircraft. He rolled and recovered in a single, fluid movement, and with the rest of his energy, sprinted as hard as he could to the tunnel entrance, where he stood in front of 1LT Duncan. "We can take seventy-seven, let's get them on fast!" He said with a smile. "Nice landing huh?" He didn't wait for an answer as he began to wave on the first of the hostages. It was agreed that women, children, and the infirm would go first and they did, being loaded onto the MC-130J quickly.

Behind them came about twenty-five more hostages and a single Delta troop squadron, who were there for protection and medical assistance. Two medics who had been brought along were already waiting on the MC-130J and they instantly began to tend to the wounded as the loadmaster gave 1LT Duncan a pat on the shoulder and sprinted back to his aircraft as the last of the Delta commandos jumped aboard the aircraft. The ramp began to rise as he was running towards the MC-130J and in the span of maybe three or four minutes, the MC-130J had gone from being empty to fully loaded with passengers. "Everyone get back!" 1LT Duncan yelled as the MC-130Js engines began to roar. The pilots, notified that the ramp was on the way up, stood on the brakes of the aircraft, and pushed the throttles up to maximum power. Inside of the cargo hold, passengers who happened to be standing were yelled at to sit down and hold onto something. Everyone had to hold onto something, it didn't matter what or who it was. Inside of the stadium, the sound echoed off of everything and the MC-130J was at full power by the time the ramp was fully raised.

People took cover just as the soccer stadium once again became a giant lightshow. From the rear of the aircraft, a blinding light and a thick cloud of smoke filled the air as five rocket boosters fired. Two were either side of the fuselage, just above the rear wheels, their nozzles protruding past the rear of the aircraft and a fifth was underneath the tail. The pilots pulled back on their yokes and with their flaps set, the aircraft immediately assumed a positive climb angle and the aircraft was violently pushed forward and upwards, everyone inside of the aircraft being pushed back and down with the centrifugal force of the aircraft's motion. The roar inside and outside was deafening and in a mere eight seconds, the aircraft had ascended out of the stadium, into the air, and the tail rocket booster had burned out, leaving a small trail of smoke in its wake. The aircraft continued upwards and onwards as the pilots kept the aircraft level and continued to climb with just rapid intensity that it was almost mind boggling that such a large and heavy aircraft could accomplish such an amazing and seemingly impossible feat.

On the ground, the Delta commandos cheered; in the cockpit and in the cargo hold of the MC-130J, everyone cheered; in the situation room at the Fortress of Comhghall, everyone cheered; in the cockpits of the other two MC-130Js, the pilots cheered. The first aircraft had not only landed unscathed but it had ascended out of the stadium, which had a fake runway of barely one hundred and ten meters in length. The low walls of the stadium were crucial to the success of this operation and the MC-130J that was codenamed Reaper 01, the leader of the three aircraft, continued northward towards the Caspian Sea. The rocket boosters had finally gone out after about fifteen seconds but the pilots kept the engines pegged and gained airspeed and altitude as they flew out of the city. A single F-57A Wraith and an F-58A Viper had vectored to its flanks and were escorting the aircraft out of Persian airspace.

"Get ready for number two!" The Delta commandos passed over the radio. The second aircraft had passed underneath the first and the pilots were less than four hundred meters away from the stadium. Timing was everything and as COL Ryan and the last of the Delta commandos entered the stadium's tunnel, the second aircraft came down, slamming into the ground harder than the first but just as unscathed. COL Ryan ran forward with the wounded. He was already slated to be on the second aircraft out but as he reached 1LT Duncan he ordered the lieutenant onto the second aircraft. He was going out on the last one, just to make sure everyone got out safely. On the second aircraft, the last thirty-six hostages and three of the Delta troop squadrons boarded and in a rush of smoke and flames, the second aircraft ascended into the air, passing over the third and final aircraft as the last of the Deltas came into the tunnel, awaiting extraction. As they did, eight men appeared behind them but these weren't hostiles.

They were dressed in civilian clothes but they all carried assault rifles and looked as nondescript as the Delta commandos. Their faces were cold, colder than those of the commandos were and they stood firm as the third aircraft pivoted into position. One of the men, the leader, approached COL Ryan and held out his hand. "I'm Mister White and we're coming along."

"Roger that Mister White, let's go!" COL Ryan had been briefed that they were taking out an MOI team but he didn't know how many there would be. He only knew that they would go out on the last aircraft, that they were nameless, and that they were going to be armed. These were those men and as the ramp lowered, the sixty men boarded the MC-130J and held on tight as the takeoff procedure was initiated. Like before, the third MC-130J lifted into the night skies over a dark and lightless Tehran. It was escorted by one Wraith and one Viper, like the other two aircraft, and they proceeded north. Five miles behind them, the last two fighters and the two AC-42s, cleared out of Persian airspace. Over the Caspian Sea, the MC-130Js would jettison their spent rocket boosters and then turn to the west, for Azeri, rather Russian, airspace.

OOC: If you think any of this post was 'wank' or 'impossible' please review Operation CREDIBLE SPORT. This plan was devised for the real-life rescue of American hostages in Tehran after the initial plan, Operation EAGLE CLAW resulted in a mission failure. My rescue here has taken elements of both of these operations but with modern day equipment and units. If that plan were enacted again today, it would be a success thanks to the improvements made since. Desert One & Desert Two locations are very close to what they were in real life and I substituted some elements: CV-22s for RH-53s; MC-130Js for MC-130Hs; AC-42s for AC-130s; because this is what my nation uses. If you still don't believe me here's a video of a Credible Sport test.

[Layarteb]

October 27, 2011 - 01:10 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Caspian Sea
Reaper Flight Group
(36° 38' 35.72" N, 51° 37' 54.65" E)

It was sixty-eight miles from the stadium to the Caspian Sea and those were sixty-eight tense miles. The cheering in the cargo hold of each aircraft by the hostages subsided as each aircraft's passengers realized, independently of one another, that they were still in Persian airspace and the prospect of getting shot down was still very real. They didn't know about their fighter escorts or of the strikes that the Imperial Layartebian Air Force conducted during the rescue operation. The flight plan called for the MC-130Js to depart Persian airspace over the town of Band Pi. Each of the MC-130Js departed from Tehrani airspace at maximum speed and then they flew nap-of-the-earth over the rugged terrain of the Elburz Mountains. The pilots of each aircraft kept a close eye, watching the terrain and their terrain-following radar for any surprises but compared to their ingress route, this was significantly easier and it wasn't before long that the first MC-130J was feet wet, about fifteen minutes in total.

The second MC-130J crossed over the Caspian Sea just the same and like the lead aircraft, it flew for about five miles before it jettisoned its spent, metal, rocket boosters that did nothing for the aircraft now but add drag. Once relieved of the extra, non-aerodynamic weight, the MC-130Js ascended towards a cruising altitude of twenty-five thousand feet where they would slow down to just three hundred miles per hour. The F-57A Wraith and F-58A Viper escorts with them kept their stores and also kept pace, just in case they ran into trouble over Russian airspace. It would be a total of two hundred and seventy-five miles in flight from the stadium before they crossed the barrier into Russian airspace and that was a long way to fly knowing that the Russians, the Empire's second-largest enemy, could have had a failure in their chain of command and levied surface-to-air missiles against the flight group. Against Persian surface-to-air missiles, none of the MC-130Js would have stood much of a chance. They had chaff, they had flares, they had powerful ECM systems but those only went so far. Against more modern, more capable Russian SAMs being fired by better trained crewmen, the MC-130Js would last only seconds in a combat duel.

The mood inside of Reaper 01 and Reaper 02 was that of elation for the hostages, who had endured the most harrowing and painful experiences of their lives. The DPG men who were wounded were relieved to be on the way home, on the way to real medical help. The Persians had provided only limited help to them, enough to keep them alive but not truly help them long-term. In reality though, the biggest ailment affecting each of the one hundred hostages was dehydration and that was remedied easily by the medics. The more seriously wounded of the bunch were all on saline bags and some were on morphine. Bullet wounds that were infected were treated with antibiotics and everyone was given a check-up by the medics on board the aircraft. There were hugs, there were kisses, and there were more tears than there was fuel. The Delta commandos, seen as heroes, tried to isolate themselves both physically and emotionally but neither succeeded too well. All of them had medical training to some fashion and they were lending a helping hand to the overwhelmed medics from the Imperial Layartebian Air Force. The hostages, now rescued survivors, clung to one another and to the Delta commandos. Everyone wanted to huge, to kiss, and to shake the hands of the many Delta commandoes who selflessly rescued them.

The Delta commandoes didn't feel like heroes though. To them this was the job, this was the risk, and this was the mission. There was thrill in it but only on a basic level. These men weren't bravados or lone gunmen who so bravely charged into battle to brave bullets unscathed only to destroy a tank with a revolver. They were calculating, professional soldiers who trained harder than any other Special Forces operator did in the Empire and arguably the world. They were the elite of the Special Forces community in the Empire and the last stop any soldier would make before crossing into the dark, gray, and completely ominous realm of Black Operations. Delta participated in many black operations, just like the rest of the Special Forces community but they weren't Black Operations Forces. BOF forces operated on a level that eclipsed that of even the famed Delta Force.

Word had filtered quickly through all of the men that not only had they lost a brother-in-arms during the assault but that a second had been critically wounded during the final moments of the extraction. To lose one was terrible but to lose two was catastrophically apocalyptic. These men were tighter than family and not even the bond of blood was stronger than what the men in this unit shared. They all felt the hurt and the loss of their brother-in-arms and if the second died, the pain would be double. On Reaper 01, the single Delta Force squadron did their best to keep their composure as they said, over and over again, "It was nothing, I was just doing my job, you rest now." On Reaper 02, the three Delta Force squadrons crowded around their stricken and wounded brother-in-arms. They all wanted to help but only the highest trained of them did so. Because the hostages weren't physically wounded except for some minor cuts, bruises, and the obvious dehydration, there were no people to tend to in the cargo hold. Their wounded brother was their only priority once the hostages had been squared away.

Master Sergeant Eric Garfield was clinging to dear life onboard Reaper 02. The grenade blast had done a number on his body though no fragments penetrated his vest. The vest had been shredded to confetti though and that was a bad sign. Fragments had penetrated his arms and parts of his legs but miraculously, these wounds were superficial. His spine was intact and his spinal cord wasn't severed. However, every one of his ribs was broken, making breathing the most difficult task in the world. He was pumped with morphine just to kill the pain from this. He had internal bleeding, which was the worst of it and the most life-threatening. He needed surgery and he needed it pronto but it was a four-hour flight back to Incirlik Air Base in Turkey. He would have to hold on until then and while he was being pumped full of transfusion blood and saline solution, things looked grave. His skin was pale and grayish. He looked like he was dying, there was no doubt about it and he had a number of bruised organs to go along with the internal bleeding. Delta commandos, all of whom taped their blood type to their boots, matched blood types and without question, without request, without hesitation, began to roll up their sleeves. If they found transfusion equipment onboard, everyone with the right blood was going to give a pint. News of this spread to the other two aircraft as well.

On Reaper 03, the mood was about as somber as it could be. There were no rescued hostages, only fifty-three Delta commandos, including COL Ryan, and the eight, mysterious men who appeared at last minute. These men were even colder and more distant than the Delta commandos were. They moved to a faraway section of the aircraft, grouped together, and closed their eyes though no one thought that they were actually sleeping. They seemed more to be meditating than sleeping. Hushed whispers flowed through the four troop squadrons and the most common of these were, "These men aren't MOI. Who are they?" Nobody had any answers to give nor would anyone actually ask the men who sent a chill down even their tough and resilient spines. Reaper 03 was also carrying the lifeless body of Sergeant First Class Phillip Coke. He had been the Delta commando who was killed. His body, lifeless and respected, had been put into a black body bag and placed onto a stretcher to make it easy to carry once they landed. Strapped in, the Delta commandos each took turns saying their good-byes. It was tradition and everyone else in the mission would do the same once they landed at Incirlik.

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October 27, 2011 - 16:45 hrs [UTC-5]
Governors Island, Layarteb City
Fortress of Comhghall
(40° 41' 26.5842" N, 74° 0' 59.2518" W)

The situation room was a popular place on this particular afternoon. The Emperor, the ministers of Defense and Intelligence, the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the General of the Army, the General of the Air Force, the commanding officer of JSOC, and the National Security Advisory had all come into the room about twenty minutes before the operation officially began. Since then, they hadn't budged. Watching from satellites monitoring the situation high above Tehran, they saw as the Delta commandos moved through the embassy, they saw as the ILAF neutralized the city, and they saw the extraction. When the last MC-130J was in the air, the Emperor smiled and sat back, loosening his tie for the first time that day. His throat was dry from the tension and stress of watching Operation SALT GARDEN play out and he was relieved. He let out a long burst of breath, turned to the Chairman, and patted him on the back. "Well done," the Chairman smiled. Hands were being shook around the room as the Emperor turned now to the CO of JSOC. "General, when will we get a SITREP on our boys?"

"Once they're at the Caspian Sea sir. They're under orders to maintain radio silence until then sir."

"I think I can wait fifteen minutes." The Emperor smiled and stood up and everyone not standing did the same. They came to order and silenced their levity. "Gentlemen, we pulled off an astounding mission here. Now that I can finally move, I think I'll use the restroom. I have a phone call to make as well, ensure that I am notified the minute we get that SITREP." He stepped out of the situation room and went about his business. The phone call he made was to Delaney and Delaney had little to give him. His team had executed both their primary and their secondary missions successfully and got onto the last MC-130J but that was the last they had said. No sooner than the Emperor hung up had fifteen minutes gone by and he was being ushered back into the situation room.

The room was quiet and the speakers echoed the sound of the military transport. It was COL Ryan on the other end of the line, communicating by an encrypted satellite link. Regardless, there were no names and code was still going to be used. "Sir, I want to report a success."

"Excellent work what is the composition of the package?"

"Sir, one-zero-zero rescued. Three kilos for the package and there are at least thirty whiskeys. All personnel are accounted for sir."

"What is the composition of the rainbow elements?"

"One kilo sir," the mood in the room instantly dove into a valley and the Emperor straightened up as he listened. "One whiskey, critical sir."

"I understand. Get home safe."

"Thank you sir." The call ended quickly, ensuring that nobody could eavesdrop on it.

The Emperor turned to the men around the room. "That's what these men risk whenever they step into battle." He felt the pain himself. Though he was long-since retired from the military, he was still a Delta alumni and the pain of that loss still affected him. "General," he turned to the CO of JSOC. "Make sure we get a full report on what happened."

"Yes sir."

"I'm going to my office. Inform me once the flight reaches Russian airspace. We're out of the woods but we're not at home yet." Everyone stood and snapped to attention again as the Emperor left the situation room and took the elevator back to his office.

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October 27, 2011 - 01:30 hrs [UTC+3:30]
Pamenar, Tehran, Iran
Shams-ol-Emareh Palace
(35°40'52.71" N, 51°25'14.85" E)

For the first twenty-five minutes of the battle at the embassy, President Saoshyant couldn't be found. Two aides in their pajamas frantically searched around the Shams-ol-Emareh Palace for him but they couldn't find him. Two military officers, both part of the Persian Special Forces upper command showed up and joined in the search as well. The phone rang off of the hook and the radio was so cluttered with frantic chatter from the Al-Shams terrorists holding the embassy that it was impossible to send any outgoing messages. Panic had come over the embassy and over the entire Persian Armed Forces high command. General Bashar was one of those many callers. Lieutenant General Abdullah had been awoken from his deep sleep and he was calling as well. Even Colonel Najafi was on the phone, demanding to deploy his troops. Yet, for twenty-five minutes, it was as if President Saoshyant didn't exist.

Then, he was suddenly found and needless to say, it wasn't his finest hour. It had been General Bashar who found him and he found him by bursting through a door to a secret room inside of the Shams-ol-Emareh Palace. Inside of that room, stood President Saoshyant, who was naked from the waist down, standing above a girl who was on her knees. The two of them froze and looked towards the intruder. The girl, who was naked, scampered away, covering herself up while President Saoshyant's face during bright red with both embarrassment and rage-like anger. "What in the fucking hell!" The President blurted out as the General stood firm, a look of disgust on his face.

"Sir we have a major crisis right now and we need to move to a secure location at once. Get your pants sir." General Bashar said as he eyed the girl. She couldn't have been more than fourteen years old, if that much. She was probably a prostitute.

"General, I am…"

"Sir, it is urgent!" President Saoshyant, knowing no shame, walked up to General Bashar and drew close to the general, making him uncomfortable. "Sir," he said in a whisper, "the embassy is being attacked."

"By who?"

"Who do you think sir, let's go now!" The President quickly grabbed and put on his pants. He grabbed his shoes and socks and left the secret room, slamming the door shut behind him. By the time he got to the Persian situation room, in the Shams-ol-Emareh Palace, it was 23:56 hours. By then, the chancellery was under siege by the lightning-fast Delta operators. There was obvious chaos and confusion. The military leaders present were arguing to themselves and the phone continued to ring off of the hook. "ATTENTION!" General Bashar shouted as he entered and everyone snapped to as President Saoshyant appeared, as a disheveled and unrespectable mess, his pants barely on, his shirt untucked, his hair a mess, his shoes and socks in his hands. "Sir," General Bashar began. "At 23:28, we received a frantic distress call from the embassy. They were being assaulted. During this time, we have received many reports of aircraft overhead. We have taken many hits. The power is out throughout the city, though we have a generator backup here so that is why we remain online. We have no radar coverage as several SAM sites and radar sites are not reporting."

"What have we been able to deploy?"

"Nothing sir, we've been waiting for your orders. The police have been unable to respond. Two police vehicles were destroyed by missiles and a third one fled safely. The strikes against our anti-aircraft sites have forced most of the military units in the area to take cover, fearing more strikes. We maintain no chain of command right now sir and worse, we've been picking up a larger strike force approaching from the west flying at low level. It is next to impossible to track them accurately. We believe there are also two gunships flying overhead but we remain unable to engage them sir." President Saoshyant was silent and paralyzed by panic. "Sir we need your orders right away."

He remained paralyzed. "Who is doing this?"

"It is the Empire, isn't that obvious sir. They've flown in to rescue their nationals. Sir, this is a cataclysmic situation."

"I understand that General. What risk do we take in deploying troops?"

"Sir I have to be honest, these are probably the very best of the Empire. They have gotten in completely undetected and in less than half an hour sir, they neutralized our air defenses, took out the power, and have laid total siege to the embassy. They are in the chancellery now. We do not know how they will extract but we have to assume it is by air."

"Helicopters?"

"We have detected none; the strike force that is coming in resembles cargo aircraft, probably with paratroopers. We assume that they are going to make a daring rescue at the airport."

"Then deploy everything we can to the airport. Get Colonel Najafi to the airport as well."

"Sir Colonel Najafi is best suited to go to the embassy and recon the situation and report back to us."

"That is too risky with those aircraft flying around; he must get to the airport and stage an ambush! Kill these pagan mongrels once they arrive!" They argued for another ten minutes before General Bashar finally made the call. By then it was too late, the Delta commandos were spiriting hostages to the stadium. As the first aircraft came in to land, Colonel Najafi ordered his BTR-80 to stop and in awe, they watched as the lead MC-130J descended into the stadium with all of the fireworks of a celebration.

"Sir, we have Colonel Najafi, it's urgent." One of the aides said in the situation room. Military units were descending on the airport but they were receiving mixed reports that the airport had been struck by aircraft. What was destroyed they didn't know but the Persian Air Force component at the base wasn't responding. They thought the worst.

"Put him in then," General Bashar barked. "Colonel, what is it?"

"Sir, they're landing in the stadium!" The roar of the rockets could be heard in the background and everyone in the situation room stared in disbelief at the speaker that sat on the table.

"What did he say?" President Saoshyant, who had composed himself to look like a leader, said with sheer terror.

"Sir, I said they are landing in the stadium. One aircraft has landed in the stadium." There was silence and for a solid minute until there was a loud roar.

"What is that sound Colonel?" President Saoshyant asked with more disbelief.

"Engines sir. Sir they," his voice went blank, "I cannot believe what I am seeing sir."

"What is it!" President Saoshyant barked anxiously and without any patience. "Colonel what are you seeing!"

"Sir, I could not describe it if I had a video camera."

"Colonel you better," a deafening roar overhead completely drowned out the line and when it passed, Colonel Najafi was muttering into the line.

"Sir they have put rockets on a cargo plane and they have taken off from the stadium. Sir a second plane is coming in now. "

"This can't, they can't." President Saoshyant fell into the chair and felt weary. "General, what is happening?" He looked up at General Bashar who was as much in disbelief as everyone else in the room was.

"Sir, I believe they are landing into and taking off from the soccer stadium, Colonel?"

"Yes General?"

"Do you have any surface-to-air missiles?"

"We do not sir, I am sorry."

"Can you shoot down these planes?"

"No sir."

"Continue to observe and hold your position then." General Bashar walked over to an aide and whispered something into his ear. He departed at once and he wasn't seen from again for the rest of the morning. "Sir, what are your orders?" The second plane was in the air, on its way out of Tehran and the third was coming in for a landing now. "Sir?"

"I don't know General." President Saoshyant's voice was weak, feeble, and ineffective. General Bashar only sighed and cut off the speaker from Colonel Najafi. Eventually they were notified that the last of the Layartebian aircraft had left Persian airspace to the north, over the Caspian Sea. They could do nothing; they did absolutely nothing; the embassy was now lost forever.

[URBOV]

October 27

The Military Cordon along the Azerbaijani-Iranian Border was silent, the Persians lacking the stomach for the skirmishes of July. Behind the front line that was manned primarily by the Russian Ground Forces, there was an intricate web of Surface to Air Missile and Artillery Positions that were crewed and directed by Ministry of Interior Personnel. Coastal Regions however were the domain of the Naval Infantry, the smallest and most independent of the Military Branches. For this reason, the Anti Air Batteries of the Caspian Coastal Regiment did not receive the encrypted Order that alerted the various commanders to the presence of several Moton Planes that were carrying classified material.

Anti Air Battery Seventy Two was one of the dozens of silent AAA positions that looked out into Persian Airspace. Staffed by seven men, it was a solitary S-400 System that was fed data from a centralized Radar Station some two kilometers to the north. At around one in the morning a stream of data came in from command accompanied by the battery's own sensors detecting the incoming Layartebian Flight. Not knowing that they were Layartebian like the rest of the Military, this particular unit did not know they were Motons as the Government claimed. Immediately the alarm was raised and the battery moved from silent to active.

The caps were quickly slid off of the battery's rockets; exposing the deadly and ominous missiles that could quickly reduce any aircraft to little more than a burning hulk.Unsure of their authorization to fire, the Senior Enlisted Man quickly raioded to headquarters,

"Команда, просить разрешение заниматься!"
“Command, request permission to engage!”

Static and the background chatter from the command center filled the battery's cab section, followed by the reply of,

"Подождите одну станцию​​, мы не уверены в верности Самолет в это время."
“Wait one Station, we are unsure of Aircraft Allegiance at this time.”

The battery argued amongst themselves, with the majority being keen on firing anyways and sorting out the fallout later. Many of the Naval Infantry had lost friends and family to the Persians during the July Skirmishes and any blow against them was a major moral victory for these men. Only the silent yet ominous gaze of the Company Commissar and the very real danger that the flight was not Persian held them in check long enough to receive radio command again.

"Команда, неизвестные воздушные силы в настоящее время в двух километрах от береговой линии, запросить разрешение заниматься!"
“Command, unidentified aerial force now within two kilometers from the shoreline, request permission to engage!”

"Подождите одну станцию​​, Высшая говорит с МВД, разрешение может быть входящий".
“Wait one Station, Higher is speaking with the MVD, permission may be incoming.”

Rubbing their hands together, the two operators themselves leaned out of the cab and shouted to their comrades,

"Высшее принимает дерьмо на всем протяжении этого!"
“Higher is taking a shit all over this!”

The response was a mixture of curses and the usual dark sarcasm that military men were famous for the world over. Just as the operators were about to flip the final set of switches and initiate firing procedures, the static choked response from higher came out as,

«... Ремесло ..... ........ NAT, де ..... ..... жественной возраста ..."
“...craft.....de........nated.....dly.....age...”

The operators exchanged glances and quickly radioed back,

"Команда, не так ли просто дать нам зеленый свет"?
“Command, did you just give us the Green Light?”

"..... TIVE ... d. ..... заниматься ...."
“.....tive...d......engage....”

The two operators quickly ran through the necessary launch procedures and quickly acquired a lock on the lead aircraft. Mere seconds before the first man triggered the launch however the radio errupted with,

"Станция, это Воздушная активами 079. Я сделал глаза на цель и могу подтвердить, что они не персы. См. Доска номер заказа Шестьдесят семь А. "
“Station, this is Aerial Asset 079. I have made eyes on target and can confirm they are not Persians. Refer to Classified Order Number Sixty Seven A.”

The two Naval Infantrymen moved their hands from launch and at once asked,

"Ебать это?"
“The fuck is that?”

[Amigard]

Grozny Airport

Marian felt a rush of relief when Father Petrovic introduced himself. The encounter with the Russian soldiers had left her with a feeling of uncertainty and slight apprehension. So this land isn’t full of atheists, she thought to herself, and it helped that Father Petrovic spoke English since most of the volunteers could not speak Russian with the exception of a few here and there although the Amigard government had done its best to ensure that there would be at least one interpreter per group and in Marians group that fell to Abdul-Rahim Atwi, a young man that had studied as a linguist in Amigard City specializing in Russian and Arabic.

A significant number of volunteers had medical training including some doctors, nurses, EMT’s, etc. and those that didn’t generally knew first aid even if their only exposure to it was years ago during basic combat training, something that all able bodied Amigardians whether they be male or female had to undergo if they wanted to be eligible for any number of privileges including higher education, government employment, and the right to vote in any elections. A citizen of Amigard could refuse to go to basic combat training and they wouldn’t be arrested or charged with a crime, but they would lose quite a few privileges and so most did not opt out.

Marian had attended boot camp and she had received further training in first aid and CPR as part of the process of becoming a nun, but she was not a nurse or a doctor. In fact this would be her first experience with wounded people and the uncertainty gave her some anxiety when Father Petrovic mentioned that they would be going to a collection point for the wounded.

No one expressed any questions to Father Petrovic although Father Friss thanked him and expressed his appreciation for the welcome they had all received. Father Friss seemed even more relieved at the sight of Father Petrovic and was generally more at ease now that a fellow priest was present. Marian and the others gathered themselves and prepared to follow the elderly priest to the collection point.