After disappearing one-by-one off the grid using the card/barcode-masking technique, a practice that went on totally unbeknownst to the New Dawn security authorities, the BOBA foreign liaison agents in Gerisa proceeded with the espionage protocols that had been dispensed unto them by their distant handlers. Aside from them disappearing from their normal jobs and their families (whom themselves had vanished), there were no leads to go upon and no pre-emptive sanctions for suspicion about them by the state had been called for. Within days of their going dark, they re-surfaced and established a ring of safehouses in the northern inner city slums, quietly de-bugging the places and covertly moving in small arms caches along with their software equipment. In total, there were only 28 operatives in the Malius chapter of the indigeneous cell, but they were never all in one place all at once nor did they know more than one at a time where another comrade of theirs actually was. So far, they had done nothing but watch and listen, the specialists among them tapping into the national security grid using hidden remote access tools, also known as 'RATs', to monitor enemy comms and visuals as well as collect substantial information to use for a future plan of attack. Soon, a suitable first target was found, a bold starter. The planning came together quickly, and two three-member teams set out to strike Aleckandor's first blow against the Great Leader and his dictatorial thugs.
Western Outskirts Of Malius | Gerisan Countryside | United Republic Of Gerisa
0000 Hours [Local Time]
Just outside of the capital a few miles via the westbound motorways, was a Statpol unit dispatch center. It was a small concrete building with a brutalist geometric design and a small radio dish on top, a structure befitting the totalitarian entity it served. The patrolmen that were stationed here initially saw action in the first month of the New Dawn regime's establishment through their ordered apprehension or termination of known dissidents or potential rabble-rousers, but things had calmed down since then. In this part of the outskirts, there wasn't much to do except operate the checkpoints or conduct themselves as standard traffic law officials; the people living in the suburban townships nearby generally had very warm affinities for the New Dawn primarily because it put them back to work and ideologically inspired them, so the Statpol personnel here had it more easygoing than other parts of the countryside and even more so than in the urban areas.
But it was exactly because that this particular station was placed in a location where there wasn't much to enforce anyhow that made it such a vulnerable spot for the Black Operations liaisons to hit.
Team One was composed of two men - the elder Henri Durantino & the younger Xavior Scipius - and one woman, a certain Alma Jaster. Like everybody else in their cell, all of them were authentic ethnic Gerisans and also lifelong residents of the greater Malius metropolitan area. They had departed from their safehouses by accessing the rooftops of their complexes and descending into the black alleyways; to effectively leave the confines of their district and then the capital itself without being detected, they used special electronic 'soft-kill' beacons that they were carrying to temporarily freeze the recording stream of any security camera within a range of fifteen meters away. In this way, they were able to slip by surveillance while remaining purely on foot (any motorized transport was dangerous at this point, as there was no guaranteed safe way past the tech-heavy Statpol roadblocks). In addition, they were also able to successfully keep away from the sparse but still fairly dangerous foot patrols without alerting them to their presence and subsequently terminating them; yes indeed, these homegrown operatives knew how to traverse their city even under the present circumstances.
By midnight, all three liaisons managed to regroup on a grassy hilltop jutting above from the service road linking the dispatch center with the main highway. They had taken great risk to both themselves and their comrades for coming out all the way here from their primary area of operation; for them, all they hoped for was that their training would carry them through the chaos in the darkness that was about to unravel itself at their hand. Alma Jaster [Agent: CERES], a Gerisan woman of 25 and a half years who worked at a café as a waitress less than a month ago, was the designated mission leader for Team One. She, like the other two men that trusted her ad hoc command with their lives, were dressed in all black attire with earpieces and armed with suppressed PDWs along with sidearms and explosives.
"You boys ready?" she asked softly as the Summer breeze gently rolling in began to blow at her short auburn hair.
"Yeah," acknowledged Henri Durantino [Agent: QUIRINUS], a 23 year-old man and a former accountant, as he attached the suppressor to his PP-2000 compact submachine gun and extended out its collapsable stock, "I'm ready. You, Xavior?"
"All set." replied Xavior Scipius [Agent: ORCUS], who was 22 and used to work as a librarian's assistant to pay for his law school tuitions, doing much of the same with his own PP-2000.
"Time to go to work." murmurred Alma as she checked her digital watch, fixed her earpiece, and unveiled a pre-suppressed and already loaded Glock 18 from a shoulder-slung back she was carrying. After she and the others put on their face masks and shades, she switched off the safety and set the handgun to fully automatic mode, then began moving down the hill with rapid speed but under complete silence. The other two men followed her closely at her flanks, their personal defense weapons firmly raised, aimed forward, and ready to engage. There were two Statpol men hanging out near the back end of the building, presumably on break from just one of their usually uneventful night shifts as one of them was smoking a cigarette; when they began to see the three figures beginning to materialize from just outside the fence near the orange light of the lamppost, they were too slow to react and palpably met a swift end as Xavior was the first to spray them both. Henri immediately followed up by shooting out the camera orb guarding the backdoor. Xavior then brought out his cutters and snapped through the fence. Team One went through, with Henri crouching down temporarily near a manhole and lifting out its cover for later use before rejoining the others at the door.
"This is CERES to FONTUS: mousetrap has been set. Repeat: mousetrap has been set." Alma announced over the secure channel on her earpiece as she and the others stacked up. "We're ready to begin entry and assault into the dispatch center, so get this coded door open for me and my Team. Monitor their camera views and comms chatter, and give us regular updates, too. Over."
"FONTUS copies your transmission, CERES. Saw the cam there go dead." responded a cyber-support operative known as Agent: FONTUS utilizing a laptop connected to extraordinarily powerful digital bandwidth covertly hooked into the New Dawn Party's totalitarian security surveillance system, "Mission is live, you are go for Objective: 'Coyote'. Decrypting and opening the rear door now. Building security has been alerted to your presence and are about to send a callout, deal with them. FONTUS, out."
A few seconds passed before a click followed by an electronic buzz sounded out, Alma putting her hand on the knob and forcing the door open. Henri had kept his PP-2000's line of fire from directly in front of the entrance and scanned around as he rushed in, Xavior following after him while checking the corners. Alma entered and closed the door softly behind her, at which by the time the two men she was leading signalled to her that it was all clear in the corridor. But time was of the essence, so Team One began trekking down the tiled hallways, their first target being the building's closed-circuit camera room three doors down the left.
Alma used her Glock to shoot the lock and kicked the door open with a force that was pure. Inside were two Statpol personnel with headsets in white surveillance division uniforms, one of them already on the phone but both equally surprised by the entry of the masked operative. As one of the guards attempted to reach for his standard issue sidearm, BOBA Extranational Liaison Agent CERES filled both of them with concentrated automatic 9 millimeter bursts at point-blank range. She inhaled and exhaled deeply for two seconds, then turned her head over her shoulder to speak.
"QUIRINUS, ORCUS - sweep the rest of the building, sanitize it of every soul." she ordered, the men complying wordlessly and heading further down the corridor. She moved around deeper into the room and swept the guards' bullet-riddled bodies off the console, then picked up the beige cordless phone and held to her free ear. 'Still on the dial-tone,' her mind registered, 'They were following protocol and calling for reinforcements from more active units, most likely. That means the silent alarm must've already been triggered throughout the center. But no matter, this facility'll be secure in a few moments and all the patrolmen here would be terminated.' Alma checked her watch again. '12:02 AM, 90 seconds to finish up and bug out.' She put the phone down and let the callout send itself through, then rushed out of the room and began hunting down the rest of the officers and other workers in the building along with her team.
"FONTUS calling all Team One victors: be advised, ND stream confirms a large number of patrolmen and detectives beginning to cluster around the armory area, and the dispatch control room is beginning to evacuate its personnel." the distant support operative on the encrypted broadband radio frequency warned.
Alma caught up to Henri and Xavior, who had taken care of three more guards along the way attempting to respond to their assailants with the pistols they had on hand. Together, they formed a quick-moving tactical formation gliding down the hallway with their weapons hot and the fingers on their triggers ready to execute the will of their aim so true. The mysterious gray men from Nord Yervhenn who had recruited them all those years ago had trained them well; these Gerisans were as good as any other Aleckandorean deep cover specialist, perhaps even better than some other cells across the breadth of the globe. Suddenly, a group of Statpol men from the very end of the way materialized into view, unwittingly finding themselves running headlong into the range of their attackers. Rounds were squeezed off, and four of them were struck - one slipping flat on his back as he collapsed from the volume of accurate fire.
"MEN OF THE GERISAN STATE POLICE FORCE!" the young station chief cried out in anguish to his brothers while in cover, "STAND YOUR GROUND AND TAKE THESE BASTARDS THE FUCK OUT!"
Loud submachine gun and battle rifle fire then erupted from the other side towards the advancing foes, though it was highly sporadic and done without any sort of accurate aiming. Team One broke formation and headed into cover via the ajar doorways into the adjacent offices or behind the convenient lockers and filing cabinets. These troopers were trained to assault people's homes - to strike against the households of enemies of the New Dawn state that they had sworn fanatic loyalty to; most, if not all of them, had probably never imagined that they would find their own domain under attack by professional sleepers recruited by the designs of a faraway superpower.
"Throw a banger!" Henri called out to Xavior as the enemy fire intensified, and Agent ORCUS acknowledged him and by priming and tossing an M84 stun grenade down the end of the hall. The flashbang detonated, causing the enemy's fire to temporarily cease and the building's defenders to become near completely disoriented from the intense assault upon their audial and optical senses. In the ensuing pause, Team One moved up rapidly and extinguished the entire assembly that had come to stop them. Screams of people who worked as secretaries and clerks began to be heard as they then entered the front desk area, but they died down as vehicles in the parking lot began screeching away in droves. Those that didn't get away from the agents' line of fire were quickly eradicated. A brief period of silence throughout the whole of the building thenceforth signified that the last of the station's original occupants had either been killed or escaped.
"FONTUS, CERES here." Alma then called out after pressing at her earpiece. "Structure secure. Beginning pre-exfil procedures."
"FONTUS copies your last. Good work, Team One. I'm killing the rest of the non-CCTV cameras in your AO. Hurry up, you have only 35 seconds until SPF special task battalions start arriving. FONTUS, out." Agent FONTUS then said. Team One wasted no time hurrying across the layout of the small dispatch center, slinging or holstering their weapons and now turning over their tactical attentions to the other important weapon they brought to the scene: M18 Claymore directional anti-personnel mines with infrared sensors and plenty of C4. As they began covering the place with as much explosive traps as they could, one totally removed from the present situation yet completely aware would definitely pose the question: "What was the point? What strategic opportunity was seized upon in this strike against the dispatch center?" The answer to such a query was rather simple: the station was not the actual target. For all intents and purposes, it was a diversion - a play to to divide and confuse the enemy, who would send all that they've got here and thus leave other fronts unprotected.
After they finished a half-minute later, Team One bolted and exfiltrated the building via the back as armored fascist police vans began to arrive out in the front, the blades of a helicopter approaching closer from beyond the hills. However, as the New Dawn paramilitaries entered the building forcefully in full combat gear, their chances for a smooth response mission to retake the building were dashed when the first of many charges blew and instantaneously caused many Statpol casualties at once. The operatives fastidiously descended down the open manhole out back and put its cover back in place, disappearing through the local sewer network, upon which they would split and individually materialize in any one of the sleepy suburbs in this particular township and proceed back to their safehouses from there.
Meanwhile, as the New Dawn forces in the area scrambled responders and began devoting their immediate attentions on the after-effects of the raid, Team Two listened in and prepared to hit the real target of cell's operation.
+ + + + + + +
State Munitions Plant No. 11 | Outskirts Of Malius | URG
0015 Hours [Local Time]
Though at this point in time time, there were probably numerous weapons manufacturing and military logistics production establishments being constructed (with several already up and running) all throughout Gerisa, Plant #11 was very special - so special in fact, that it caught the attentions of the native BOBA operators. The local cell was able to utilize their software taps to filter through several sensitive governmental arms buildup reports being sent to the offices of the Great Leader's lieutenants tasked with the management of the New Dawn State's economic infrastructure. Many of the reports indicated a confirmation in one of the worst fears the Aleckandoreans had in regards to the military revitalization programs intiated by the coup regime: the construction of weapons of mass destruction - specifically, chemical nerve agents to deployed in dense population centers for extermination operations or during frontline battlefields as area denial ordnance. Quantities upon quantities of agents like phosgene, chloropicrin, sarin, and VX were being manufactured right here in one of the poison gas processing factories of Plant #11 just outside of the Gerisan capital, the canisters being packed into simple artillery shells or guided medium-range missile warheads. When the BOBA cell sent this back to their covert handlers back in Pandomonita, they were immediately given the order to carry out the demolition objectives they had intuitively suggested upon themselves.
Team Two, like their diversionary counterparts in Team One, was composed of three operatives: Lucio Iskandar [AGENT: TRAJAN], Julian Bedford [AGENT: MACRINUS], & a much younger member, 22 year-old Weevir Anappio [AGENT: GALBA]. The munitions plant, which ran all day and night using a combination of automated machinery and specialists to manage such machinery, was located on a rectangular artificially terraced hill with three service roads leading to and from the westbound roads out of Malius. At the edge of the hill it sat upon, a large electrified security fence overlooked by four manned concrete gun towers - one tower to an edge of the perimeter. Inside the plant, there was a main production building with a set of smaller manufacturing wings jutting out from the sides, each wing adorned with a tall smokestack and coupled to a spherical liquid petrochemical refinement tank; just outside this structure, considerably smaller industrial warehouses for raw material or fuel storage and mechanized equipment controls existed - as well as a couple of long barracks to house heavy Statpol troops on guard duty. On the terrace just immediately below this hill outside the main perimeter, towards the eastern side of the plant. Team Two had assembled on foot together in the darkness just out of range of the large searchlight beams emitting from the towers.
It had taken a few minutes for the initial diversion triggered by Team One's raid on the dispatch center about a dozen miles away to have elicit the desired effect: in response to the attacks, the guard activity around Plant #11 began to quicken in pace and soon, a huge chunk of the SPF personnel stationed here were mobilized to search for the perpetrators of the attack by their capitoline commanders. Jet black armored vans and light police assault vehicles covered in lettering, heraldry, and cruising lights, as well as a couple of squad cars fitted with ceramic cage armor, began pouring out of the various exits from the area to reinforce their comrades in the search for the assailants upon their organization. Troopers went by in truckloads as they emptied their barracks or were called up from their patrols of the immediate vicinity, leaving the Plant in a considerably less impregnable position than what it was meant to be; in the course of two and a half minutes, nearly 600 out of the 700-something men charged with the security of the work here filed out quickly but cleanly, as per the customary totalitarian efficiency of the willing servants of the Great Leader. Though there were still approximately a hundred others still left, the job that Team Two had was made considerably easier since the path to their target had largely been deserted by the Statpol officers and deputies who have since relocated to deal with the immediate problem on their hands.
"FONTUS here to all Team Two victors," the cyber-support operative on the other end of the secure channel began on Team Two's frequency: "Mouse has taken the bait. Repeat: mouse has taken the bait. Security grid is showing a large displacement of paramilitaries leaving the target site. Your mission is live, go for Objective: 'Imperator'. Destroy the nerve gas cache and the facilities used to make it before more can be transported to national military stockpiles. Over."
"This is TRAJAN to FONTUS, Team Two copies." Iskandar responded in kind, "Op is now being executed. Watch our backs. Over."
"FONTUS to TRAJAN, will do. Good luck, over and out."
All three men then affixed high-end suppressors on the muzzles of their locally built (but unlicensed) MX4 Storm pistol-caliber carbine PDWs, with each gun having a holographic sight, green dot laser, and foregrip. They slowly rose from their kneeling position and ambled silently up the slope to the dirt gap which separated the electric fence from the edge of the terrace that Plant #11 sat upon; when they got to the fence at the designated blindspot from the enemy cameras, Julian and Weevir knelt down again and began scanning around for targets either still on the ground or those men that still remained in the operational guard towers, whereas Lucio placed his MX4 on the ground and shifted around the shoulder bag he had in front of him. He reached in and grabbed two connectable three-foot iron piping tubes which were to act as makeshift metal stakes, as well as a crocodile battery clip, a mallet, a water bottle, and some heavy duty copper wiring. Lucio, being the electrician he was, worked on the improvised penetration technique by placing the tubes together to create one six-foot stake, where he then he lightly used the mallet to drive the aforementioned stake into the ground by just below the fence and poured a puddle of water from the plastic bottle to touch and surround it at the base. Next, he took and snapped a few feet off the copper wiring coils he had and wrapped the conductive thread down and around in a helix from top to bottom upon the stake, knotting it tightly through a screwhole to secure it (though ideally, he could've welded it, but there obviously and simply was no time to do so). Finally, he attached the crocodile clip at the very top of the wiring sticking out from the edge of the pipes, then slowly began maneuvering it towards the still-active fence with great caution.
"I guarantee you guys that this'll get a few chumps curious, so be ready to drop them when the sparks come flying." Lucio warned seriously, looking back at his two other comrades, just as he was putting on some rubberized gloves before continuing with the motions.
"You got it, boss." acknowledged young Weevir, who used to be senior university student and whose Brigade designation was Extranational Liaison Agent: GALBA. Just then, Lucio made the connection between the clip on the stake and the fence itself. The result was a rapid burst of several short electric but non-lethal sparks that began to overload the charge coursing throughout that region of the fence. Though the sparks that manifested were very bright, the technique was progressing well in overloading the voltage enough to eventually blow a sufficient fuse upon which to enter front. A Statpol guard came around the corner of a concrete shelter for experimental missile parts to check out the commotion. When he showed his face in the darkness, Julian Bedford squeezed off three silent rounds his way and took him out. A duo on the nearest gun tower from the south side ran over to the edge and were about to direct the searchlight on the small distant sparks they saw below. Weevir quickly turned, aimed down his sights upward at them and fired at both in sporadic bursts. One crumpled on the metal walkway backwards when a Parabellum cartridge struck him through his forge cap, and the other fell past the railing over before he had the chance to shoot his battle rifle. Just then, a small hiss and final pop marked the burst fuse on the electric fence that Team Two meant to break through, opening a small gap. Lucio used a multi-tool to quickly clear the rest of the obstructing dead lines to create a wide enough entrance, then finally led himself and his men through.
"TRAJAN to FONTUS, we're in. Guide us to target and kill all CCTV feeds to SPF servers. Over." squawked Lucio as he and the rest of the Team took cover behind the wall of a storage building, using his earpiece.
"FONTUS copies. Camera streams shifted solely to our modems. Pulling up full plant schematics now." FONTUS said, obliging. A few seconds later, the support operative came back with the details, "There is a red structure across the northern tank parking yard labeled '11-H'. That's the interior substation conduit. Enter it, then fix a charge on the main console. After that, make your way across the elevated inter-building walkway towards the main arms manufactory. Descend three floors down and take a right towards the primary mainframe room. Take everyone there out and find the controls to turn on all the ventilation fans on at the highest power setting. Get down to the production floor and break any first gas valve you find - the fans will spread the vapors all over the place."
"Yeah, got it, what else?" Lucio asked interruptedly, as he rallied his Team together and began rapidly dashing in a panther-like way towards their first target, weapons at the ready.
"Was getting to that, TRAJAN. From there you'll hustle through to the rear restricted area, which will take you down into a large refrigeration unit where the chemical canisters are being kept for later weaponization and transport. Set a couple of charges there and then get the hell out. I'd recommend stealing a couple of Statpol uniforms before booking it out of there. And get as far away as you can, because when you demo it...trust me, it'll be huge." FONTUS explicated with a great degree of forewarning. Julian and Weevir looked at one another as they protected Lucio's flanks, but Lucio just shrugged as if to say 'Fuck it.'
"Roger that, Team Two copies. TRAJAN, over and out." he replied. Team Two began stacking up on the conduit house, and when Lucio gave the signal, Weevir kicked the door and the three entered guns ablaze yet silent.
10 Minutes Later...
"L-Lu...L-Luci-Lucio!" quietly whimpered the dying though young Weevir Anappio. "I c-can't...I can't feel anything...Oh God, I can't f-feel...any-thi-thi-thing."
All three men were in one of the black SPF vans that was originally parked in the barracks garage before they commandeered it, Julian driving through the hail of New Dawn paramilitary gunfire while Lucio in the back tried to stop Weevir's bleeding. The op had gone smoothly right up until the moment a gunfight broke out between the Team and a squadron of national army troops stationed in the chemical weapons refrigeration unit that were loading their vile cargo onto trucks. Alarm klaxons sounded throughout the Plant and soon the entirety of the factory's security personnel were alerted to the presence of highly armed and highly dangerous intruders. Fortunately, for the Aleckandorean agents, they were able to fight their way through waves of enemy state troopers and army grunts alike. Along the way however, Weevir was grazed close by a large assault rifle round near the neck - which superheated the skin around his jugular and started to gush out his life fluids out in a slow enough but still surely agonizing manner.
Tailing the police van through the night were two police helicopters and several cage-armored squad cars supported by a light assault vehicle firing its main cannon indiscriminately down the highway from which the van driven by the operatives was meandering about.
"Hang in there, Weev!" Lucio yelled. He looked through the rear windows of the van and saw the vehicles chasing him and his comrades, and grew angry. Before returning to his attempt to save his friend, he pulled out the detonator and squeezed the trigger hard. What followed was a blinding fireball of orange that could be seen for miles around. Lucio clenched his teeth with grim satisfaction, then looked back down at Weevir in his arms.
"Don't close your eyes, Weev. Don't you fucking dare close your eyes!"
"I-I'm...I'm s-sor-sorry...Lucio...at le-least we g-go-go-got the j-job...d-done..." young Anappio, who had always dreamed of teaching history to Gerisan children in a free democratic society, said as he died in Iskandar's arms.
"Dammit!" interjected Lucio as felt the young man's shocked body grow cold in the permanent suspension that was death, the blood refusing to quit draining from the side of his neck. 'You did well, Weev. Me and Julian'll probably be joining you in a sec, lad.' he thought, knowing that it this point it would put the whole organization in jeopardy if they attempted to escape with their lives while the New Dawn authorities remained in hot pursuit of them. He was about to reach into his pocket for some of the cyanide pills he had kept for him and for his fellow Team members. He felt the deathly vibrations created by the impacts of the shells fired from the assault vehicle closing in behind them along with the squad cars. Among the flashing lights and the sounds of the sirens blaring closer and closer, he saw the immense flames of what was Plant #11 rapidly rising.
"TRAJAN to MACRINUS...GALBA is dead. We're outgunned and we're out of options. I've cut all Team comms from FONTUS." he frightfully announced. "We've got to pull the plug forever. It's the only way of ensuring they can't get to the others."
"I understand, TRAJAN." Julian affirmed in a depressed tone.
"Though our names be unknown to any and all for most or all time after this, remember my friend: we are heroes for Aleckandor and for a free Gerisa." Iskandar spoke with hope in his voice. He was about to stand up from the back of the van and move forward to the drivers' cabin up front, but alas, a shell from the light assault vehicle from behind finally hit home on the left side of their craft's rear bumper. Suddenly, the world for what remained of Team Two began to spin laterally as the van tumbled from the back and over again, pieces of armor and tire rubber flying about in smoky shreds before coming to a complete stop. Squad cars not only from behind, but now from in front coming from another on-ramp began converging and surrounding the getaway car, Statpol officers getting out and beginning to take aim.
"Lucio..." whispered a bleeding Julian as he slipped into a bloody coma. As the troopers began approaching the vehicle, a heavily disorientated Lucio began to reach for a Lyran Hellsbreath thermobaric hand grenade pinned to his black vest, but he was riddled with bullets from a submachine gun before he could pull the pin and consume the immediate area around him in flames. Seconds after, a deputy approached the vehicle and saw that the driver had in fact survived and was unconscious, and resolved to drag him out. Coroners began arriving on the scene a few minutes after, as well as agents from various national security departments.
Up ahead, another large explosion from the burning plant erupted, renewing the already-gargantuan blaze and the billowing plumes of gray smoke climbing into the dark skies.
