The Iravian Crisis [Closed]

[United States of Conner]

It all started with a flick of a switch.

On January 18th, Iravian Federation President Jan Douwe Volkerink and Vice President Ruben van Eerd were in the costal city of Heijden for a routine meeting in the Rama Tower when a series of bombs exploded throughout the city. One of them was detonated right below the President's meeting room.

Van Eerd was killed immediately. His body was almost completely destroyed by the bomb. Volkerink fared a bit better, but that doesn't mean well. Shrapnel had shredded his body, and after a couple days in a medically induced coma with little brain function, he was removed from life support and pronounced dead.

On the steps of the Assembly of Worlds, newly sworn in President Eelco Harrevelts promised to track down and "obliterate" those responsible for the attack. He warned the world to "not stand in our way."

Two days later, Harrevelts's Cabinet issued him an ultimatum. With only a couple dissenters, they demanded he resign within two days or face impeachment proceedings. Harrevelts listened, and then issued his own ultimatum to those who were not loyal: resign immediately or be charged with treason. Despite having no legal power to do so, Harrevelts followed through. Iravian Marines stormed their meeting arrested the Cabinet.

In almost the same breath, Harrevelts offered a deal to the Atmoran Empire - a deal to unify Mars. In an offer that clearly was not meant to be refused, the Federation offered to compensate the Atmoran Empire greatly in exchange for control of all of the red planet. The Empire refused.

The last thing the world needed was more tension, but that was what the world would receive. On February 2nd, Harrevelts gathered most of the government in the Supreme Court Building. Seated alone at the nine-judge bench, Harrevelts announced that martial law was now in effect. A curfew was implemented. Harrevelts also suspended the rights to assemble, a fair trial, to vote, and to habeas corpus.

The next day, President Aneya Raso of North Timeria announced that asylum seekers from Irav would be accepted in North Timeria. She also condemned Harrevelts and his action. She said that she hoped to reach out to the Iravian President and resolve the crisis.

Leaders of the Federation awoke on February 9th to find Army troops breaking down their doors. Presidents, Kings, Judges, and the other high ranking members of the various substates in the Federation were all arrested. The President didn't have the legal power to order this, but who was going to stop him?

Even more frightening than this or the complete closing of the borders that came with it - trapping thousands of foreigners in the country - was the statement of the president. "In a democracy, you are trying to run a circus from a monkey cage with your hands tied behind your back. It is time to change that." According to Harrevelts, democracy was an outdated form of government. It was time to usher in a new era, and all of Irav was to come together to witness it.

The next day, President Joshua Swanner joined the Atmorans and Timerians in condemning the actions of Harrevelts. In a live press conference, Swanner read from a prepared statement that called the events "troubling" and said that Harrevelts's action were tyrannical. After a grilling from reporters, the facts were laid bare: The Connerian government was doing everything to help their people in Irav and would be accepting asylum seekers immediately. Iravians in the USC would not be forced to leave, as Harrevelts had asked, but they would be allowed to go home.

The day after that, Empress Katherine II ordered a show of force. Two Carrier Battle Groups set sail for the Iravian ocean. In addition, she ordered a deportation of all Iravians, though those with dual citizenship or certain visas would not be forced to leave.

Tensions had risen to a peak.

Then a hand grenade went off outside the walls of the Connerian embassy during a protest.

---

February 10, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
0600 hours

Here we go again...

This was the first thought through the head of Heath Thomas. The Chief Security Officer for the Conner Embassy had been thinking that for a few days now. HIs job had been getting a bit harder since the incident a week ago.

Thomas got up and did a few simple exercises to wake himself up. Sighing softly, he walked to the shower - his position brought with it a private bathroom - and freshened up. With a bit more energy, he dressed himself in his uniform. Dark suit, lapel pin, pistol. Check, check, check.

As Thomas trudged down the hall to his office, he was accosted by an assistant of his. The man held in his hand a tablet, showing some sort of diagram of the embassy. Thomas just motioned with his hand. The assistant spun on his heel and walked with his imposing commander. "Joseph. What have you got for me?"

Joseph handed the tablet to Thomas, who gave it a quick glance. "Update on protestors outside the embassy, as requested, sir. Crowds have swollen slightly, but otherwise everything has remained the same. Iravian police are still keeping the crowds at bay at the front gate. The rest of the wall is looking fine. We have crowd control measures ready on standby, but we haven't had any need to use them so far."

Thomas nodded. "Thank you, Joseph. Anything else?"

Joseph shook his head. "No, sir. Thank you." Thomas nodded replied, "Thank you," as the two split, Joseph down the hallway and Thomas into his office. On the right side of his desk was a live projection of the embassy and its status. On the left was a livefeed of the crowds outside the embassy. They weren't screaming in Standard, but Thomas could get the gist. "Their blood on your hands! Their blood on your hands!" They threw something else every few minutes, but that was the most common one.

It had been like this for ... about five days now. There was typically some kind of constant Iravian presence at the Connerian embassy, but the flames had been fanned by the Heijden Attack. It wasn't surprising that the Iranians wanted somewhere to target their anger - their VP was killed and it was looking more and more like Volkerink wasn't going to wake up. For two days or so their had been grieving all over the world, and then that grieving turned to anger.

Thomas was pulled out of his thoughts by his phone buzzing. The Connerian Ambassador to Irav was calling, just like every other morning. A routine status check-in, nothing more. He slowly picked up the phone, punched in a PIN, and spoke. "Mr. Ambassador. How are you today?"

The voice of Ambassador James Dawson came over the line. "Alright, Mr. Thomas. Listen, I have word from Intelligence that there might be a swell in protestors over the next couple days. They don't know why, just that some of their people were letting them know. What's our status now?"

Thomas made a note to look into the intel report as he replied, "We are Alpha status, Mr. Ambassador."

"Thank you, Mr. Thomas. Have a good day." The line went dead, and Thomas was left wondering what could cause such a swell in protestors. He, like everyone else, was about to find out.

[Irav]

February 10th, Undisclosed location, Iravian Federation
02:00 hours.

A group of men that called themselves ‘Titanium’ had gathered in an undisclosed location somewhere underneath one of the Federation its major cities. This was where the top secret Titanium headquarters were located. They were out of reach of the many pesky bystanders that would so often flunk many ‘lone-wolf’ terrorist actions and by hiding themselves in the dark and abandoned catacombs they too were far outside of the reach of the Iravian intelligence agencies. This would ensure that all sinister plans would be discussed in a private surrounding that many terrorist organizations could only have dreamt of.

Deep inside these catacombs, after turning many corners and walking down many badly maintained stairs, was a dark ancient meeting room used many centuries ago after which it was mysteriously abandoned. In this room that was only luminated by the faint blue light of a 3D holographic map that looked a lot like a blueprint of the Connerian embassy, were a couple of men. There weren’t many of them, though at least a hand-full of them bothered to attend. Titanium wasn’t an enormous organization, but they always made sure to execute their carefully crafted plans with enough volunteers that their operations had always worked flawlessly.

‘’Silence!’’ Shouted a terrifying dark persona, at least two meters tall, who was standing maybe a meter or so away from the holographic map. His face was hidden under a silver-like mask which resembled a tiger. Many rumours had been spread as to this man, only known by the name ‘’General’’, had gotten this mask. Some of these rumours included an infectious disease ‘melting’ off his face to General having been shot in the face during his teenage years or that he had burned nearly his entire body during a housefire. No one knew way he wore the mask and being the terrifying man that he was nobody was brave enough to ask him.

‘’Listen up!’’ General continued raising his voice once again, as he was about to unveil the plans for the coming days. During these next couple of days this team of freedom fighters would penetrate the Connerian embassy in the Westerkwartier under the disguise of the announced demonstrations. Were the Titanium members going to murder the ambassadors? Or perhaps they would simply keep hostages to further their goals, one thing however would be made painfully clear and that is that the Connerians would pay for everything they had done to the Iravians.

‘’Tomorrow the protestors will gather around the embassy.’’ General said as he shifted and twisted the hologram around the room to show the fences surrounding the embassy and the many important locations within. General kept pointing to the arsenal rooms and reinforced locations where the Connerian staff could potentially hide themselves, he spoke in great detail of his ideas and plans and how he planned to turn the embassy red in revenge for everything the Connerians did in regards to the recent Heijden terrorist attacks.

[United States of Conner]

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
0732 hours

The next day, as Heath Thomas jogged down the hallway, he was getting briefings both in his ear and from the TVs mounted in the hallway.

"The crowds of protestors outside the Connerian embassy have swelled today, growing beyond all projections. We'll have an estimate soon, but no reason has been given by organizers for why there has been such an increase..."

"Chief, crowds are getting antsy outside the fence. Orders?"

Thomas hit the door talking. "I want guards posted at all entrance points. Double patrols along the wall. They are not to open fire, we don't want a goddamn world war on our hands. Tear gas and shock rounds if they breach the wall, which they won't. Get two bodies on Dawson at all times. No, make it three. Two SS and one SWORD. At once."

"Yes, sir."

Thomas's orders were carried out with haste. The walls, 3 meters high and built of reinforced concrete, hadn't been updated since the Iravian Civil War. Any update that didn't require tearing the walls down and leaving the embassy defenseless would require a permit from a hostile Iravian government. These were a relic of a friendly government, with plenty of police protection. The protection was a bit thinner now. To make up for this, armed Connerian soldiers carrying automatic weapons were constantly on patrol on the top of the walls, sitting in watchtowers, and moving around the compound.

There were strict orders against firing lethal rounds anywhere on the grounds. Even if protestors somehow breached the embassy, killing an Iravian could possibly start an all our war. The soldiers had their hands tied. Were they happy? No, of course not. They were professionals, but this was a dangerous situation. One spark and this could escalate very, very quickly.

[Irav]

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
11:48 hours.

The protests had been going on for more than four hours straight right now and yet, miraculously, nothing out of the ordinary had taken place, no protestors feeling from teargas, no blood on the streets from firing guards, no intervention by the Iravian police department, and perhaps most important of all no direct attack on the Connerian embassy. Of course some protesters had taken it upon themselves to begin throwing garbage and other filthy things over the embassy walls, though these objects were a minor annoyance at best. All that could be heard this morning throughout the immediate neighbourhood were chants that were made up by the Iravian protestors.

’’Their blood is on your hands!’’ Turned out to be the most popular one that the protestors were yelling, but all morning long from 7 o’clock until now more than a few dozen different chants could be heard coming from the streets around the embassy.

There was one thing that all chants had in common and that was that they all blamed the Connerians and their ties to Next for the disaster that happened in Heijden. It was the largest terrorist attack that had happened in Irav since the end of the civil war and the rise of Cerberus.

The protestors were pissed off beyond believe, but somehow they were not assaulting the walls, a thing thought inevitable by many Titanium members, government personnel, and probably Connerian security alike. Everyone had some idea as to how nervous those Connerian guards might have been and they were rightfully so, since this uneasy truce between the protestors and the embassy guards could impossibly last for much longer. Both sides realized that something had to happen today, though neither side wanted to fire first and were looking to provoke the other into firing first. Time would tell when the first casualties would fall.

February 11th, 2074
Wilgenstraat 35, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
11:57 hours.

Wilgenstraat 35 was just another mediocre house in a long street of normal houses, there was nothing special about the way it was constructed, the foundation, the walls, or even the roof. The detail that truly made this house important was its location, as the Connerian embassy was right across the street and within sight of anything these evil-doers had in mind.

In the living room four men were sitting on the couch. They were fanatic members of the terrorist organization known as Titanium and they were tasked with carrying out Phase one of General his masterplan. One would stay in the house just in case anything went down outside at the embassy while the three others had an more important and above all interesting task assigned to them.

’’Come on, it’s time to move. I expect the signal any time now. Vulture, Major, let’s go.’’ A man known by the call sign Sticks said to his friends. The three of them proceeded to walk into the awfully dark basement beneath the house. The basement too was a mediocre one, maybe four by another four meters squared, but it was what was inside the basement that was so important.

’’Alright Vulture, you take the drill and make us a tunnel towards the lower levels of the embassy. From there on out we’ll take care of the first wave of guards.’’ Major said as he reached for some heavy equipment from a nearby shelf. He too threw a pair of grenades and a heavy gun to his friend Sticks.

’’Aye.’’ Sticks said as the device in his pocket began buzzing, that meant that General had given them the signal to proceed with Phase 1. ’’That is the signal chaps.’’ Sticks said as he showed Vulture and Major the buzzing device. ’’We’re clear to go!’’ he said as the drilling began.

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:03 hours.

As was always the case with these types of these types of protest, not everyone turned out to be yet another simple protestor. Some were in fact part of the terrorist organization known as Titanium, and they were spread out all across the crowds surrounding the Connerian embassy. One of these agents was known only as Marvel to his colleagues and he was given the task by General personally to steer up the crowds surrounding the embassy. How he did this no one care about, if people died no one in the organization would care, if property was destroyed they wouldn’t bat an eye, all that they wanted was that the Connerians would pay for their crimes.

’’One, two, three.’’ Marvel murmured as he counted the guards on the three meter high concrete walls.

’’There are too many to throw a grenade up there, so that won’t work. Seems like I have to begin with a tear gas grenade.’’ He thought to himself as he hoped for a moment that no one would notice it.

Then like his wishes had been fulfilled by a genie a loud bang was heard on the other side of the compound, taking away almost everyone their attention from his section of the concrete wall. As he slowly moved out of harms way he dropped a teargas grenade in the middle of the crowd, which would surely anger the already mad protestors even more and would hopefully provoke them into attacking the Connerian security on the embassy walls.

In the middle of what seemed like utter chaos, which is exactly what Marvel wanted, he took out a second grenade, this time a conventional one. From behind a tree he threw the grenade at the wall in front of a group of angered protestors. Even though the grenade was not an enormous one, it would make sure to detonate at least part of the reinforced-concrete wall, and would create a hole several men could fit through at once.

In a few second the grenade would detonate with no one having spotted the tragedy that was about to unfold. Marvel on the other hand had left the scene and would be nowhere to be seen.

[United States of Conner]

1201 hours

Thomas stood in his office, pacing its length, too wired to sit. Holodisplays showed various camera feeds from the wall as well as within the base. All of them showed the Chief what he already knew: this was a situation that could get very bad, very fast. They already seemed to be going down a slippery slope as some of the Connerian guards atop the walls fired tear gas rounds into the ground, as retaliation for the garbage being thrown into the walls.

Then, the blue-tinted displays all flashed red simultaneously. One display grew and reminded itself a few seconds. An explosion shook the camera, blowing a hole in the wall. The protesters were streaming in, entering a courtyard adjacent to the wall. Thomas took a split second to comprehend what had just happened, and then he moved. In two steps, he was back to his desk, pressing a large red button. There was a lighting-fast retinal scan. Thomas didn’t wait for anything else - he burst through the door and found four soldiers in full combat gear and exosuits waiting for him. The posse moved down the hallway, to where an ornate door sat. One of the soldiers kicked the door in, while another two quickly ensured the room was clear.

Thomas moved quickly and took in the scene. The ambassador had been in a meeting. With who didn’t matter - Thomas got to the ambassador and said in a calm, clear voice, “Mr. Ambassador, we’re crashed. I’ll need you to come with me, please.”

They didn’t wait for a response. One of the soldiers took Ambassador Dawson by the shoulders and walked him out of the room. They moved down the hallway like a strike team, as Thomas took to escorting the VIP and the four soldiers surrounded them, assault rifles at the ready. By now, alarms and warning lights had started to go off, and a calm voice had come over the speakers. “All personnel, evacuate to your designated safe zones. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill.” Thomas blinked out commands at breakneck speed as the group came to a stop.

A section of the wall slid open to reveal a steel blast door. That door then swung open. Dawson was escorted inside, along with two of the soldiers. The process repeated itself in reverse, and Thomas got on the comms. “Top Dog is secure, I repeat, Top Dog is secure. Give me status, over.”

Outside the embassy

When a hole had been blown in the wall, the first protesters to step on Connerian soil had found an open courtyard, complete with a small pond with bridges extending over it.

Connerian guards fired down tear and KO gas as well as electro rounds down into the plaza. However, it didn’t look as though there would be enough of them, and orders came from the top to fire all ammo and then retreat to security. They did so, using their exos to leap over the crowds and back into the embassy, which by now had been “crashed.”

The windows had been sealed with metal slides, all doors reinforced and secured, and soldiers were patrolling the inside of the building. However, they were still under strict orders: no lethal rounds. The building was likely strong enough to keep out unarmed protesters. However, it had not been designed with an all-out explosive assault in mind, and that was what the Connerians feared: that this was not an organic breach, but instead a deliberate attack by an organized force.

[Irav]

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:11 hours

It was certainly odd, wasn’t it? At one point in their lives many of the men who were now assaulting the Connerian embassy saw the Connerians as their friends. They had served in the Iravian army and had received the best training available to the Iravian armed forces. Now instead of serving their country in the way that they had imagined it, they found themselves assaulting a foreign embassy, an embassy that once belonged to their friends and their brothers in arms. But times have changed and with it the political landscape had changed. The countries that once were their friends were now their enemies and their enemies could now be their friends. Where once the Connerians and Iravians had been on good terms with each other they were now bitter enemies. Of course on the surface the scares never ran that deep, keeping up a play to ease the populous, but underneath the surface was nothing but hate between the two. The Connerians hated the Iravians and vice versa and this was not about to change anytime soon.

These were some of the thoughts that a few of the men were having as they, together with an unruly mob of protestors, were assaulting the Connerian embassy. They had now made in into the courtyard of the embassy and only one wall stood between them and the embassies interior. To his left Marvel saw a pond, which he knew would come in handy anytime now, even though the pond itself held no strategic value. With the high embassy walls breached and taken down the real assault was about to begin. It would be bloody and plagued with high casualties on both sides.

‘’Knight. Do you hear me Knight?’’ Marvel shouted in his walky-talky amidst the chaos. Behind him a group of protestors had gathered near the walls of the embassy itself, desperately trying to get in. Another group of protestors had taken it upon themselves to ravage the courtyard by throwing around self-made bombs and kicking over garbage cans.

‘’Loud and clear.’’ Knight answered swiftly. He had been hiding on the roof of one of the higher buildings surrounding the Connerian embassy. Once the outer walls were breached and the courtyard was taken it was Knight his task to take down the interior wall and open up the complex to the other Titanium members.

‘’Bravo-Echo-Golf-India-November, I repeat Bravo-Echo-Golf-India-November.’’ Marvel again shouted as the noise grew louder and louder from the courtyard. A group of protestors had tried to break one of the windows leading into the courtyard, but the unarmed and amateur protestors were easily driven back the experienced Connerian guards before any harm could be done.

No reply was given by Knight, but he had received the code words: B-E-G-I-N. In order to begin the assault the protestors would have to be dealt with and a hole had to be blown in the inner walls of the embassy. Knight thought, rightfully so, that he could kill two birds with one stone. Knight had set up his RPG on the edge of the rooftop so he could blow a hole in the embassy walls, which coincidentally were already being assaulted by a group of protestors.

With zero regards for human life in mind, as was expected during this assault, an explosive round from Knight’s RPG flew through the Westerkwartier skies, straight for the embassy walls and the protestors in front of it. On impact there was an enormous explosion and a crater where once a group of protestors were assaulting the walls. Blood, limbs, organs, it was everywhere in the courtyard as the explosive round tore through the crowd and embassy walls alike. But at last a decent hole had been made in the inner embassy wall and the protesting mob was desperately trying to flee from the complex.

At least the real assault was about to begin. Not by the simple mob, nor by a simple or even a battle hardened terrorist organization, but instead by ex-soldiers of the Iravian army. Trained to serve their country and government.

February 11th, 2074
Presidential Office, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:12 hours

He was probably the mastermind behind the embassy assault. Though of course this he would never officially recognize, nor would he say that his administration was involved in any way. Yet here he was, in his office, following the entire undertaking on his laptop. Every step, shot, or casualty would be seen by the president. No one, absolutely no one trusted the Connerians. Not Harrevelts, not his secretaries, not even the ordinary Joe in the streets trusted them. And the president too knew that the Connerians would be the first to take action to remove him and his administration from power as they have tried before during different presidencies.

So he simply decided that the Iravian government could use some leverage during upcoming negotiations and meetings. Something to keep the international community at bay, something to keep them from influencing his government. He knew that the easiest way to get this leverage was through taking hostages and where would you find so many important Connerians in Irav then in the Connerian embassy only a street or two away from his office?

Eelco Harrevelts leaned back in his chair as he followed the footage closely. Expressionless the entire time, from the moment that the outer walls were breached to the RPG explosion that tore a hole in the inner wall. Harrevelts simply didn’t care for the civilian casualties, after all, they chose to be near that wall during one of his operations. And every ruler knew, from president Swanner, to President Raso, to empress Katherine, that a single man’s power comes at the expense of another’s death.

[United States of Conner]

1211 hours

Thomas was walking around the embassy atrium, surveying the security forces, when he heard the shout over the comms.

"RPG! RPG!"

A second later, he heard an explosion. He turned, to look through the glass walls, and saw a ball of fire envelop the wall.

In that moment, Thomas made a decision. He looked at the wall, blown apart by a rocket, at the fleeing protestors, and the men with guns moving purposefully towards the embassy. He got on the comms and broke the orders coming from way above him in Foreign Affairs.

"All units, Ready One! I repeat, Ready One! Begin pull back to safe rooms ASAP, operation Alpha-November-Alpha."

Ready One. Lethal force authorized. Before he had finished speaking, Thomas heard the quick crackcrackcrack of automatic weapons fire. He trusted his men not to shoot anyone who was fleeing, although his mind currently wasn't on their well-being. This had turned from a protest getting out of hand into a terrorist attack. And that meant he was concerned primarily with one thing - the ambassador. He was still in his safe room, but he needed to be extracted, and with haste.

As Thomas ran down the hall of the embassy, the ground shook. He knew that was the result of heavy MGs on the guard towers opening fire, and that scared him even more - if the attackers hadn't been wiped out by small arms fire, they knew what they were doing. This couldn't just be protestors - he had heard gunfire that hadn't come from the Connerian weapons, meaning these guys had access to automatic weapons. This was not looking good.

1215 hours

In the atrium, the Connerian embassy guards had taken up defensive positions. The glass was bulletproof, so some had moved outside and returned fire while others fired through doors. They were efficient and well trained, armed with assault rifles and wearing power suits that let them jump up to the wall and run faster than a normal human could hope to.

And yet, somehow, they were taking casualties.

The soldiers cut down everyone who was running at the embassy, but still more came. Lieutenant James Carpenter, manning a heavy machine gun in a guard tower, saw this better than anyone. He fired the weapon in bursts, and the heavy bullets turned heads and limbs to a red mist and left hand-sized holes in torsos. And yet, still they came.

Orders came through the comms, clear as day in his helmet despite the gunfire outside. He looked to his partner, who was firing into the crowd, and saw he had heard the same thing. They nodded to each other, and then Carpenter picked up his machine gun, the power armor making it effortless. The two leaped into the air, landed on the side of the embassy opposite the hole in the wall, and sprinted inside.

The rest of the Connerian forces moved inside, taking care to use covering fire to their advantage. One of the soldiers was hit in the leg, and the bullet slipped through the power armor. One of the others dragged him inside as another sent retaliatory fire back at the area of the shooter.

As soon as everyone was inside, coverings slid over every door. These weren't the new blast doors the Connerians had at their disposal - attempts to bring those in had been stonewalled by the Iravians. They were thick steel, and though they could stand a lot, they could be broken.

Outside the atrium, the Connerian soldiers had guns trained on the doors to the room. They knew it was a matter of when, not if, the Iravians got through. Now all they could do was wait.

February 11th, 2074
Capitol Building 1, Conner City
1216 hours, Iravian time

"Mr. Micuuzi, you know you're always welcome here. HT's new advancements really are wonderful."

As Joshua Swanner smiled at the man before him and shook his hand again, his Secretary of Foreign Affairs tip toed behind him.

"Mr. President, we have a situation."

Swanner whispered back, inaudible to the others in the room.

"Two minutes."

Exactly two minutes later, Joshua Swanner strode into the Situation Room, twenty floors below ground.

The room stood at attention, and Swanner asked what, what could possibly be so important as to interrupt an important meeting. Without speaking, Foreign Affairs moved her hand around on her holodesk, and a projection of the embassy in Irav was shown. In an inset was live security cam footage, but instead of the little park and glass atrium Swanner was used to was replaced with a massive hole in the wall, fiery debris, and corpses. Swanner asked, "How long?"

A SWORD commander, wearing a dark suit, responded, "Thirteen minutes since a grenade hit the outer wall. Five since an RPG hit the inner wall."

The President felt a chill run through him, replaced quickly with hot anger. How dare they? Attacking a civilian base was something he had put below even them, but clearly he was wrong. He pushed it aside and looked back at the projection. "The ambassador? HVTs?"

The SWORD man responded, "VTOL is on-station to get ambassador out of there."

"Give me an outlook. What are the odds we keep the base?"

The man shook his head. "We have no intel on OPFOR. Could be ten guys in balaclavas, could be state sponsored terrorists. Still, though, we have a fairly limited security staff. Iravians would never let us bring more in."

Swanner sighed and rubbed his temples. It was going to be a long day.

"Burn everything. All sensitive documents get offloaded and deleted. Anything paper goes in the incinerator. Lock the system down as soon as staff is done or it looks like attackers have access."

The SWORD man nodded and got on the phone. Swanner turned to Foreign Affairs.

"And get me Eelco Harrevelts on the phone right now."

[Irav]

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:16 hours

For the first time during the assault the Connerians had made a serious attempt to retaliate with lethal force. A few guards had taken command over the several guard towers present on the embassy grounds with their agile power suits and had opened fire on the crowds that were in the embassy courtyard. Focussing all their efforts on trying to take down the armoured Titanium soldiers that walked among the ordinary civilians. As a result dozens of people were mown down in the first few minutes of the barrage, while many Titanium members and civilians began hiding behind obstacles and walls surrounding the compound. Marvel, who was dressed in civilian clothing was however shot through his chest and mortally wounded. For now he was crying out pain, together with several other civilians as blood poured from their many wounds. Though these casualties wouldn’t deter the Titanium operatives, it did give them a real taste of how hard this mission would actually prove to be.

‘’Assault Team IV respond! Team IV respond!’’ Jahon, who was assigned as the mission commander overseeing the assault yelled through his communication systems. He had been well-aware that a handful of troops couldn’t penetrate the most heavily guarded embassy on the planet. That is exactly why he gathered several teams of Iravian Army experts to lead the assault.

‘’This is A.T. IV reporting in.’’ Platoon commander Cobra responded. He and his team had been present during the RPG impact and had directly tried to apply pressure onto the Connerian defenders, though the power suits had proven too much to reliably fight with consistent successes. As soon as the Connerian embassy personnel had closed the thick steel door behind them Cobra and his men entered the first part of the compound.

The fourth Assault Team however was never made for blasting through the thick steel doors of the Connerian embassy, even though the government had essentially stonewalled the arrival of newer and even better blast resisting doors. That however did not mean that the Titanium ranks did not include dedicated assault teams, as they too had several of them.

‘’Team IV, this is Jahon, how is the situation on the ground?’’ Jahon tried to ask Cobra and his assault team in between the bursts of gunfire and the sound of explosives. Apparently another Titanium assault team was trying to assault another section of the embassy, though they had little to limited successes.

‘’The blast doors are sealed and we are unable to break through them. Requesting assistance from a demolition unit immediately.’’ Cobra quickly answered to his overall commander. There was no conceivable way that his assault team could break through these steel doors with the automatic weapons and grenades that they were given. But for every task there was a guy and a demolition team would soon arrive on the scene.

‘’Team V has been notified of your location and is on its way to your position. Hold tight and keep the pressure on the Connerians as much as possible.’’ Jahon replied before breaking communications with his ground team.

February 11th, 2074
Presidential Office, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:17 hours

As was slowly becoming a habit for the president. He had engulfed his entire office in near absolute darkness, complete with closed curtains, turned off lamps and candles, and no outside light what so ever. The only thing that laminated his face and in extension his office was the dim light of the monitor on which president Harrevelts was following every step of the embassy assault. Slowly but surely the Titanium soldiers had been gaining the upper hand as they had driven back the Connerians from the outer embassy walls, to the courtyard, to the inner walls, and at last the embassy itself. Now there was only the daunting task of capturing the embassy before we would have to order the police department to be involved.

However, as his Titanium soldiers were pushing on they too began taking casualties. This disappointed Harrevelts as he had expected so much more of his troops, then again casualties like these were the price an individual had to pay for power. He too knew like none other that the Connerians were a crafty and shrewd people, they would probably have destroyed, burned, and shredded all their sensitive information before any of his men could lay their hands upon it. Harrevelts had figured, and probably rightfully so, that the Connerian embassy was a hotbed of sensitive information. Yet he would be unable to view any of it, unless of course a miracle were to take place, though he didn’t choose to count on that.

*Ring* *Ring*

President Eelco Harrevelts looked off to his left. About half a meter to his left was a phone sitting on his desk. This was the phone that was in direct contact with every major world leader from Empress Katherine to President Swanner, though it was not hard to guess which world leader would be calling him, the president of Irav, at this very moment.

Harrevelts rose from his chair and proceeded to open his curtains. From his window he too had a decent view of the embassy siege going on, as the presidential office was only about two streets away from the Connerian embassy. Next he decided to reach for the phone, as he had probably kept President Swanner waiting for long enough at this point.

‘’This is Eelco Harrevelts, who am I speaking with?’’ He asked curiously, as if he didn’t already know the answer ...

[United States of Conner]

1217 hours

"Alright, this is a code Alpha-Alpha-Niner! Everyone get to work!"

The embassy staff did as the soldier who had busted down the door commanded. Alpha-Alpha-Niner demanded that everything sensitive be destroyed - and that meant everything. Paper took priority, though - access to the Connerian servers that held electronic document could be cut remotely, but paper documents need to be physically destroyed.

Every stack of paper on a desk, every crumpled sheet in a trash can, every single physical document in the records office was brought to one of the incinerators positioned around the room and unceremoniously dumped. As the stacks of paper fell into the depths of the embassy, fire flared up the tunnel. Outside the embassy, pillars of smoke slowly floated up from the top of the embassy, coming out through reinforced grates that were just another product of that Connerian paranoia.

Down the hall from the records office, the IT staff was doing almost the same thing, again under armed guard. Access keys were deleted, q-encryption keys were wiped, and documents were overwritten and then deleted, as to not leave any record of their existence.

The recordkeeping at the embassy was a strange, Frankenstein-like mixture of hard copies and q-encrypted files. Like most things here, the tech was about a decade behind what was common back home, as their friends in the Iravian government stonewalled all Connerian attempts to upgrade their infrastructure. Plenty of top-secret documents were stored on paper, which necessitated burning everything, but plenty were also kept on secure servers maintained in the basement of the embassy. The servers would be wiped, scrubbed clean, and then the physical hardware would be destroyed.

They just had to get it done in time.

Just outside the atrium, the job of making sure they had enough fell to the soldiers, their guns trained on the large glass doors. These were also bulletproof, but afforded them a view into the room and the courtyard alike. The protestors had stopped running, and congregated around the thick steel doors, as if they were waiting for something.

The soldiers waited, not with anxious, but with a determination that made them stronger. They weren't going to be able to repel the mob all by themselves if they got through the blast doors. They would have to hold until the police arrived, or, far more, likely, they were given orders to pull back.

They didn't want to think about being overrun.

1216 hours, Iravian time

The Situation Room was a flurry of movement as the men and women inside went about their jobs with haste.

Swanner looked around, at the people talking quickly and quietly into phones, their fingers flying across keyboards, and turned to Foreign Affairs. "What's the TS exposure?"

FA thought for a second, then responded, her eyes trained on one of the screens. "Ambassador and deputy need exfil ASAP. We have a SWORD station in the basement. Two VIP prisoners there. That's really it, assuming everything gets burned and locked. Bunch of intel on Iravian targets on the servers, but I told them to melt the servers when they're done."

Swanner nodded and glanced at the SWORD man, who looked back at him while he typed. Swanner asked him, "VIP prisoners? Details."

The SWORD man nodded and put two pictures up on the screen. Two Iravian men, one with pale, sunken eyes, the other looking as though he could be a celebrity, such was his radiance. "One is Jan Hoord. He got three of our informants busted in 2070. We finally caught up with him last year, and we know he's been working with the government. Wanted to find out what he knew. Iravians think a terror group took him. The other is Steven Moren, an outreach leader who ran trips from Irav to the USC to promote peace. We found out he had been working with Iravian intel, so we set up a car crash six months. Local PD bought it and we took him. He's listed as dead. We're going to get them out with the Ambassador."

Swanner nodded and was about to continue when the phone that had been ringing on his desk stopped doing so. He looked at the technician in the corner, who mimed 3, 2, 1 and pointed at him. Swanner picked it up and hear the smooth voice of Eelco Harrevelts.

Everything the Iravian said was projected to the entire room, though Swanner heard it in his ear as well. His retinal display shower his voice was being modulated for confidence and power, but he didn't need it. He took a deep breath and then spoke, using the phone's mic so Harrevelts couldn't hear the chatter in the room.

"Mr. Harrevelts, this is President Swanner of the United States of Conner. As I'm sure you know, we have a situation currently unfolding at the Connerian Embassy. I'd like to talk strategy, and I think I'll start by asking: what is the status on police reinforcements? I don't currently see any around the embassy, despite a lot of commotion."

As he was talking, the SWORD general said to the room, "Got a satellite over the situation. Live feed up now." An image of the embassy was shown on one of the screens, and in the center of the table an AI used the image to construct a 3D projection of the building, complete with the position of all forces.

The room waited for a response from Harrevelts.

[North Timeria]

February 11th, 2074
Timerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
1230 hours

---

Ambassador Mikael Engström sat in his office working on the phone as things went down in the Iravian Federation. He had been living in the embassy for the past week or so working non stop, only taking breaks to eat, sleep and piss. With Mr. Harrevelt turning the nation into a dictatorship things were far from stable.
"Sir the President is on the line." Mikael already knew what it was about as he quickly ended his current conversation to talk with the President.

"Madame President... How are you this evening."

"Mikael I don't have time for this bullshit...Why aren't you on your way to North Timeria?" President Raso was frustrated with Mikael conviction to his job.

"As I have said before ... I can't leave until I feel I have did my job to the best of my abilities."

"Every minute you spend there the risk multiply... Things won't get better anytime soon."

"Ma'am I'm sorry but we have a very big day today... We are expecting a crowd and I want to be ready. There are still Timerian in the country that want to leave."

"I know and we're working to get them out... Mikael? Is there really nothing I can say to get you out of there?"

Mikael was silent for a moment. "If you get the chance... Tell my family I love them and tell my daughter I'll be home soon but I still have a lot of work to do."

President Raso understood... she wouldn't question him any further and would do her best to support him.

"Mikael I'm going to see about getting you some extra security in the embassy... Things must be getting rough and I can't have things go downhill there."

With that the conversation was over. Mikael then stepped out of his office and headed towards the media room where they had prepared it for a live radio broadcast. Most of the media was under the control of Harrevelt but Mikael was sure that they could get a radio signal out without too many repercussions. He sat down in front of the mic and pulled out the paper he had wrote the short message on.

"Citizens of North Timeria. If you are hearing this message please report to the North Timerian embassy in Westerkwartier. We are working on getting our citizens out of harms way and into a safe, secure environment. This is Ambassador Engström and I encourage you to spread this message and safely make your way to the embassy. Please do not take any unnecessary risk on your journey here. Thank you."

"Sir the messaged was heard but were not sure by how many. We're sure that it was suppressed on some channels."

---

February 11th, 2074
1312 Hours
Royal District, Infinity, North Timeria

President Raso didn't want to do this but she had no choice. He was an evil man and had no place to even talk with her but she knew what she had to do to keep her people safe. Raso made the call. She had dialed into the Iravian Presidents line to discuss bringing in more security for the North Timerian embassy.
"President Harrevelt... This is President Raso. I wanted to discuss bringing in more security to bolster our Embassy's defenses."

[Irav]

February 11th, 2074
Presidential Office, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:17 hours

''Of course, President Swanner, I should have known it was you. My apologies.'' President Harrevelts said in a seriously genuine tone. Now more then ever it was important that he, the president, would have to put on a very convincing act. To ensure that President Swanner and his cabinet would never suspect him, nor his inner circle, and instead would blame the whole affair on a rogue terrorist organization. If the Connerians would ever find out that he was behind the embassy attack, then not only his entire career, but his inner circle, and in extension his country would be in trouble too. Bombing his rival's embassy was a very dangerous thing to do, but it suited his personal interests.

''I'd like to talk strategy, and I think I'll start by asking: what is the status on police reinforcements? I don't currently see any around the embassy, despite a lot of commotion.'' The Connerian President said as Harrevelts listed closely, examining every sentence word by word in order to find a point at which he could strike.

''Mr. Swanner, I can assure you that police reinforcements are underway. Mere minutes away from the embassy as we speak. We too have undercover agents at the scene, giving me and my team a detailed description of events that are unfolding at your embassy right now .'' President Harrevelts said as he looked out his window, overlooking the Connerian embassy.

In order to appear supportive for the Connerian cause, while secretly sabotaging every attempt at relieving the embassy President Harrevelts had several Iron Highlanders write dozens of half-faked reports with regards to police and military deployments. These reports were to be used to shift the blame for the slow and half-baked response from the Commander-in-Chief to the United Iravian Earth Government. According to these reports the United Iravian Earth Government had to deal with a wide range of crisis’s such as: increased Atmoran and Timerian aggression, secessionists on Luna due to the hostile takeover of the Iravian government, terrorist threats in Polyphemus and Ponchartrain, and unrest in former Phanonn territory. Of course the Highlander agents greatly exaggerated the dangers presented by these events, but they had conveniently left the Westerkwartier, the Terran capital, without much of its regular heavy armour garrison.

''I propose.'' President Harrevelts began. ''That we isolate the embassy from the remainder of the city. At least until more reinforcements can be flown in.'' He proposed. He knew that if his Titanium soldiers could even best the Connerian embassy security they could easily defeat the local police department. Any serious effort to rescue the embassy personnel would mean that army troops would have to be part of it.

[United States of Conner]

Swanner stared at the map of the embassy as it was expanded to include strategic forces within striking distances. They didn't have many options.

"Mr. Harrevelts, thank you for taking my call on such short notice. While I can certainly see the strategic value in isolating the embassy - make it impossible for more attackers to enter, for one - I do not wish to send the message that we are ceding the embassy to these terrorists. What units do you have currently on station that could be used to mount a counterassault on the embassy? If these forces were able to overpower the guards, police might not be able to take them."

On a screen in front of him, various files were popping up - many of them the reports faked by the Highlanders, although Swanner couldn't have known that. Reports on what kind of forces the Iravians had in their capital, their strengths and weaknesses, and whether or not they could quickly mount an assault on the embassy.

The President and his Cabinet had known these reports would be arriving as Swanner asked Harrevelts the questions that they answered. Swanner had only asked to see how the Iravian President would respond. It was a control question, of sorts. Would Harrevelts try to keep Swanner appeased, and tell him they had an assault plan ready? Or would he tell Swanner the truth, and risk him sending in a hostage rescue team to the embassy?

While Swanner waited for a response from Harrevelts, he saw another holomap. This one showed three Connerian carriers, with SWORD Operator teams on board, cruising at maximum speed. They were headed for neutral waters right outside of Irav.

Meanwhile, the blast doors of the embassy still stood, although nobody knew how long they would stay that way...

[Irav]

February 11th, 2074
Presidential Office, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:19 hours

Again President Harrevelts found himself listening carefully to each and every word coming through that telephone line. Not because he found President Swanner to be a particularly great or admirable man, but simply for the sake of defending his own interests from his Connerian rivals. Sometimes he wished he was able to just tell the Connerian President to suck it up, hang up the phone, and then cut the cords that connected the Westerkwartier to Hyperion. However, unfortunately enough that was not how politics worked.

‘’It’s nothing Mr. Swanner, it is my job to take phone calls like these. Especially considering the unfortunate circumstances.’’ President Harrevelts said with a false tone of optimism. Meant to fool the Connerians into thinking that he was still enjoying this phone call, even though he didn’t mean any word of what he had just said. President Harrevelts had more important things to attend than to talk strategies with his greatest political rival. Especially since talking about these strategies would undermine his own efforts to lead the assault himself from the top.

Even though President Swanner and President Harrevelts have never met each other in person, Harrevelts had never been that fond of his Connerian colleague. Harrevelts was in private circles even quoted as saying that nothing would bring him more joy than see him voted out of office. Unfortunately he considered this to be very unlikely in the next few years.

’’We are not ceding your embassy to these terrorists. It’s exactly the opposite actually. If your embassy security personnel can keep out the terrorists and my police forces can hold their perimeter, we can effectively isolate them. Humans need food and water to survive and neither tends to come through a blockade like this.’’ President Harrevelts said in a somewhat sadistic tone. He again peaked out the window and began to wonder how long these incompetent twats could ever need to assault something simple like an embassy. Not to mention these would be the same men that would be sent on actual combat missions in hostile territory. They still hadn’t forced a breakthrough. Even though he could see yet another one of his terrorist teams climb the walls of the Connerian embassy. Mr. Harrevelts had a cold-blooded idea as to what they were planning, but made the easy decision not to notify the Connerians, instead he would make an attempt at blinding the Connerians to buy his troops more time.

’’As for our available forces. There is a plan for an all-out assault on the embassy, though we currently lack the means to carry them out. We’re expecting preparations to take another five hours as we are flying in army troops of the 31st and 32nd legions. An attempt at relieving the embassy can take place in the afternoon.’’ Harrevelts proposed. Unbeknownst to the Connerians even those legions would barely be enough for the embassy assault. In reality there would be maybe two or three dozen troops deployed throughout the police perimeter to spearhead the operation. This did not mean that the Westerkwartier was without military presence, like the reports would have suggested. Underneath the capital city was an enormous stockpile of heavy weapons, equipment, armoured vehicles, and soldiers ready to defend the capital at a moments notice. But the Connerians had no way of knowing that, even the majority of the Iravian government did not know about this armies existence. It was never included in any blueprints and this was exactly how Harrevelts preferred it. Nice and quiet.

’’I almost forgot to ask you a question as well Mr. Swanner.’’ Harrevelts once again said as he kept an eye out for the situation at the Connerian embassy. ’’What is the status inside the embassy? Can your guards hold out under the pressure or do I not have five hours to build up my forces?’’ This too was only meant to see if President Swanner would bite. By knowing the status inside the embassy his soldiers could adapt their strategy by either playing it more or perhaps less aggressive then they have been doing for the past twenty minutes.

February 11th, 2074
Vice-Presidential Office, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:20 hours

’’We do not care for that helicopter. The Connerians can be allowed a minor victory today. Our submarines are shadowing their aircraft carrier and her escorts, our radars are tracking their helicopter. The only thing we do not know is who is in that thing, but our best guess is that they’re evacuating their ambassador. But we cannot take him hostage anyway, we must remember that we can only get away with so much before the Connerians start blaming us for this embassy crisis.’’ The Secretary of Defense Abohr th’Zeqos heard the Vice-President, Mannes Olde Boer, speaking through the door of his office.

’’Yes Mr. Vice-President.’’ Another unfamiliar voice said. The voice sounded more concerned and scared than the voice of the Vice-President, who’s voice sounded demanding and strict more than anything.

A few seconds after the talking had stopped an assistant he had never seen before rushed out the door. Secretary of Defense Abohr th’Zeqos was unsure on how to react to that situation as he followed the man with his eyes as he ran down the hallway. Now that President Harrevelts was on the phone with the Connerian president it was Mannes Olde Boer, the Iravian Vice-President, who now called the shots in the country. He too has a history of ruthlessness, just like President Harrevelts. And just like the president he too did not shy away from intimidations, foul play, and violence to achieve his goals. This was what got him elected in the first place.

Vice-President Abohr th’Zeqos stood in the doorway as he looked into the office. It was a typical 20th century business office, with a lot of dark brown wood covering the walls and floor. Even though he had been used to a different kind of architecture where he came from on Gaea he couldn’t help but like the style that this office had been designed in.

’’Mr. Vice-President, you requested my assistance?’’ th’Zeqos asked. As was typical for Faen’ate males he had a pair of pointy almost elf-like ears and a set of eyebrows that instead of running horizontal had a slight curve upwards toward the end. Some people had said that they looked like the devil, especially when first contact was established. Apart from his obviously different physical features his species also had a different anatomy, with different locations for most internal organs as well as a green-ish tint to their blood. Apart from these differences the Faen’ate looked an awfully lot like ordinary humans, something that too certainly surprised both sides during the first contact.

’’Mr. th’Zeqos, glad you could make it this fast.’’ Vice-President Mannes Olde Boer spoke as he looked him straight into his eyes. After maybe five or so seconds he stood up from his comfortable leather chair, immediately breaking eye contact while doing so. ’’You know. The satellite defense system is a beautiful thing isn’t it? It was designed in the 2050’s as a defense against orbital weaponry. During the testing phases it could destroy upwards to seventy satellites in an hour.’’ The Vice-President explained with a weird fascination to his way of speaking.

’’Excuse me Mr.?’’ The Secretary of Defense, Abohr th’Zeqos stuttered. He couldn’t appreciate it when people were this vague about their intensions, but he was not one to argue and fight with his superiors over something like that. Especially now that the Vice-President has a history of disappearances, intimidating, and eve murder to ensure his own political agenda.

’’The Connerians have eyes and ears above the Westerkwartier. From that satellite they can see everything that is happening around the embassy building. I am under strict orders from President Harrevelts to take down or otherwise disable that darn thing. We can’t use these spying eyes, especially today.’’ Vice-President Mannes Olde Boer spoke in a sinister tone. He wanted that satellite gone and he wanted it gone now. Of course he couldn’t simply ask the Connerians to remove it, so he had to go behind the scenes to find someone that could get rid of it, or at least render it useless.

’’I’m sorry Mr. Vice-President, but I am afraid that I cannot take down a Connerian satellite. It could cause a world war. Think of the consequences Mr. Vice-President.’’ The Secretary commented after having thought through a few possibilities. ’’It would be political and economic suicide to begin a pointless war with the Connerians.’’ He continued before being interrupted.

’’Listen. You will make sure that the Connerians can’t use that satellite anymore. I do not care how you get it done, as long as you get it done. Shoot it down, EMP strike it, or temporarily blind it, everything works for me.’’ The Vice-President said looking visibly annoyed. One of his own cabinet members had just defied him and questioned his way of dealing with things. If Abohr th’Zeqos failed his demands he would be dealt with later.

’’Yes Mr. Vice-President.’’ Secretary th’Zeqos said as he left the office as fast as he could. He was well aware that shooting the satellite down would cause a war, using an EMP weapon would have way too much collateral damage and too could cause a war. The ideal solution would be to temporarily blind the satellite using a powerful laser based here on Earth. As it had turned out, there was still one of these lasers on one of the Westerkwartier’s surrounding islands that contained one of these weapons. The Secretary of Defense began calling his subordinates to put his plan into action.

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:22 hours

After what felt like half an hour went by, the Assault Teams IV and V had finally been able to meet up at the blast doors of the Connerian embassy. These were the last line of defense that stood between them and much of the Connerian embassy’s interior. Now with a demolition and breakthrough team on the scene the men could begin working on a plan to blast themselves through this reinforced blast door. The plan was simple. The fifth team had brought special plasma blades that would be able to cut through these blast doors like a hot knife through butter. They would cut a hole in the door and then make the Connerians fall back through the use of grenades and smoke canisters.

’’Gasmasks on.’’ Platoon leader Cobra of the fourth assault team said after he was done giving instructions to one of his men.

’’Why should we? We’re not using gasses and neither will they. Our intel has showed us that remember?’’ Bucks, the platoon leader of Assault Team V began arguing. These two men were never that fond of each other and Bucks was not about to blindly take orders from Cobra, especially now that they were in separate teams and equal in rank.

’’Just fucking do it. Cobra shouted in an angered tone. ’’Unless you want to fucking die out here.’’ Cobra continued shouting. ’’Any moment now smoke canisters will be thrown through this ventilation shafts. So unless you feel like passing out and dying I’d put on that fucking gasmask.’’ That was the last that he was willing to do to convince him. If Bucks wouldn’t listen to this he would be happy to let him die out here in the Connerian embassy.

’’For fucks sake.’’ Bucks murmured quietly under his breath as he quickly reached for his gasmask too.

On the roof of the embassy was yet another Titanium soldier. He went by the name Wilson, this too was of course a call sign, or a nickname if you will. Wilson was carrying a bag with smoke canisters on his back, because he was wearing power armour that made carrying them as easy as 1, 2, and 3. Once he had reached the embassy roof his eyes immediately fell upon the ventilation shaft. It was here that the fresh air that circled through the embassy building came from.

Wilson was quick to run towards the ventilation shaft, every step increased by the strength of his power armour. In only a few steps he stood right in front of the vent, that he had yet to remove from the ventilation in order to throw down the canisters. Wilson however had no tools to remove the vent from the ventilation shaft. He had to act quick, the longer that he waited the bigger the chance they would have to engage the local police and military units. In an act of wishful thinking he raised his hand to right beside his head and looked at his hand. He wiggled his fingers around for a few seconds in his power armour and then with one devastating punch beat straight through the vent blocking the entrance to the ventilation.

’’That’s one canister, two canisters, and that’s three canisters.’’ Wilson murmured to himself as he threw them down the ventilation shaft. Next he reached for his communication device.

’’Assault Team IV, this is Wilson. The canisters have been delivered.’’

[United States of Conner]

February 11th, 2074
Situation Room, Capitol Building, Conner City, United States of Conner
12:20 hours

Swanner brushed a strand of hair, carefully done for a public appearance this morning but now unkempt and messy, back into place. He glanced to his right and caught a view of the face of Eelco Harrevelts, his greatest rival. Swanner didn't trust him at all. After how he had taken power, grabbing hold of the Iravian Federation through terror and fear, he had no right to call himself President. Presidents were of, by, and for the people, not themselves. Another problem - the people of Irav, though Swanner had never really trusted them, had no control over Harrevelts, and that made him dangerous. A man at the helm of one of the most powerful nations in the world, in the galaxy? That was a situation that could easily turn into a civilization-ending war.

Swanner wasn't a young man anymore - way back when, he had won his first election on the appearance of youth after the long reign of Cory Neal, and hadn't that been a lifetime ago - but he could remember dealing with Justin Donovan. That man, and to a certain extent his predecessors as well, had been legitimately good people. Swanner and the Connerian people might have disagreed with them, but there was no question that they had been trying to make life better for their people. Harrevelts was an entirely different breed, with no right to sit in the chair that had once housed these great men. The only thing Swanner could admire about his counterpart was his ... efficiency, though that certainly did not absolve him in the Connerian's eyes.

Not long ago, Swanner had gone before cameras and subtly deemed Harrevelts a tyrant. A dictator. He could still see the crowds, furiously writing as he intoned, "When one man decides the fate of an entire nation, with nobody else having a say ... well, we tend to call that tyranny." He had done his job, that was for sure. In such trying times, in a world where the foundation many generations before him had taken for granted were being shaken to their core almost weekly, he could not simply stand for the people of the USC, as important as that might be.

Against the imperialists and the marauders, the dictators and the tyrants, the Harrevelts of this world, he would have to stand for everyone. No easy task.

Swanner shook off the daydream and returned his attention to the pressing matter at hand as Harrevelts finished his question. Swanner cut the mic and looked at his Cabinet, almost every seat in the room filled.

The SWORD Officer was the first to speak. "Sir, we can't say whether we can hold the place for five hours or not. It depends on if we can hold them in the atrium. If we can't, they will likely be able to gain control in maybe fifteen minutes."

The Secretary of Defense was next. "I've got those carriers inbound, but they won't be ready to strike for a while. Iravians are posturing pretty heavily, and though I can't confirm it, I would be stunned if they weren't tailing us with subs. We've put out feelers, though - should know soon."

Foreign Affairs cut in. "Sir, we shouldn't confirm or deny either way. This is a sensitive situation -"

"Are you suggesting the Iravian government is in on this, Secretary?"

"Mr. President, we can't say for certain."

Swanner shook his head. "You're asking me to choose between a hostile superpower taking our embassy or a single terrorist group. That changes our options quite a bit. I doubt the Iravians would do such a thing, but I want you to say for certain."

Foreign Affairs nodded as Swanner flicked a switch and responded to Harrevelts. "Mr. President, at the moment, we can't say for sure. Due to a lack of intelligence, we can't know for sure the capabilities of the attackers. All I can say is that we may not have five hours, and I for one would like to plan for the worst case scenario. We have SWORD teams inbound that can help assist if that would speed up our operation."

Swanner knew that Harrevelts and the Iravians would not be crazy about a heavily armed Connerian special operations team kicking in his front door, but he needed to ask. That, and it was helping him gather intelligence for another question, one that had been seeded at the back of his mind and refused to go away.

Connerian Orbital Command, Low Earth Orbit
12:25 hours

A red alarm flashed in the white room as all eyes turned to look at the technician seated at Station Six.

First there was Command Room Supervisor James Strom. He glanced over the tech's shoulder before asking, in a clipped, short tone, "Report, tech."

The woman seated at the computer turned to face him. "Sir, getting reports from Sector Six command. A sat over Irav has gone dark."

"Dark, tech?"

"It's been blinded, sir. Diagnostics suggest it was done via a high-yield laser-based anti-sat weapon - wait, another one has gone dark. We've lost t - no, all three sats over Westerkwartier are down. Well, they're still there, but all optics have been blinded. I've sent a shuttle out to check on them, but we need at least 45 minutes to get them up and running."

The Supervisor, a man who had spent almost fifteen years of his life in space, swore under his breath before composing himself. Almost an hour of downtime over a major city would be bad enough, but unlike the techs, he had the clearance to know what was happening right now below those satellites. This couldn't have been an accident.

"What about moving another satellite over there?"

"Sir, with the calls we would have to make plus the travel time, it'll likely be quicker to fix those sats. I can move another Falcon-7 over the city if you wish."

"Do that, order the repair shuttle out, and await further orders." Strom heard the tech blurt out an affirmation as he turned around and strode back to his desk, the artificial gravity keeping him firmly anchored to the ground. Once he sat down, his first move was to let the relevant authority know that they had lost all their eyes and ears over the former Iravian capital. He attached all the related data he could and sent a memo.

In this case, the relevant authority was the President.

Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:24 hours

"Smoke in play, I repeat, smoke in play. Go thermal and stay there. All teams, ready up."

The voice coming over the comms had just cut off when smoke began to fill the glass atrium. Each of the soldiers performed a couple commands, and their HUDs - antiquated by modern standards but still the best the embassy had to offer - switched over to a thermal view. This allowed them to more of less see through the smoke, although it still obscured their vision quite a bit. Their weapons were all trained on the door as the steel barrier began to heat up quite a bit.

Plasma blades. These guys weren't fucking around. That door was going to come down within a few seconds, and who knew what would happen next? If these guys were packing heat this serious, it might be prudent to fall back.

For now, though, the Connerians would hold the line for as long as they could. It might mean putting themselves in the line of fire, but the classified information behind those doors were worth more than all their lives combined - they all knew that, and they also all knew what they had signed up for.

The doors came down, and the soldiers opened fire with everything they had.

[Irav]

February 11th, 2074
Presidential Office, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:22 hours

''Mr. Swanner, we can definitely plan for a worst case scenario. We can plan all day and all night long should the need to do so arise. Say that in a hypothetical scenario the Connerian embassy is taken over. Where do we go from there? What traps are present that we have to watch out for? How about security clearances?'' President Harrevelts tried to reassure his Connerian counterpart. He was not trying to give the impression that he simply did not care about the embassy, instead he cared deeply for what happened at the embassy. Albeit it being for the wrong reasons.

''You really are a smart man Mr. Swanner. Both you and I know that I can't possibly allow your request. I know that we are running out of time and I do sympathize with your cause, but I cannot reverse years of policy making on a simply Sunday morning.'' The President said clearly. The Connerians and Iravians have been at odds for decades, and although relations seemed better than ever under men like Donovan and Van der Sluis, who despite everything tried their best, they were going to have to start all over again. And for the first time today he was telling President Swanner the truth and nothing else than the truth.

President Harrevelts was not a stupid man by any means. He realized like none other than President Swanner was trying to probe him, to provoke him into saying something that would link his administration with the embassy attacks. Maybe the Connerians could prove it, maybe they couldn't. It didn't matter that much anymore anyway. The door in the atrium had just come down and within half an hour the embassy would be his.

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:25 hours

WHAM! A loud bang was heard throughout the embassy and in the now abandoned courtyard as the blast doors finally hit the cold embassy floor. They were only moments away from a total victory.

The immediate moment that the doors hit the ground they were met with a hailstorm of bullet fire from the other side of the entrance. Luckily everyone had taken cover behind a few of the walls that now stood between them and an untimely death. Of course all Titanium troops were issued standard power armour, nothing fancy but enough to deflect a bullet. But even with their power armour they were not taking their chances with the possibility of armour piercing bullets being used.

''Grenade!'' Bucks yelled from the top of his lungs to his buddies as he pulled a grenade off his power suit and quickly removed the pin. For just a brief second an arm belonging to one of the Titanium power suits was visible from behind one of the walls. With great force augmented by his suit Bucks threw the grenade towards the Connerian lines. Even if it wouldn't decimate their ranks it would probably disorganize them enough so that they could go on the offensive. Which was all they needed right now.

[United States of Conner]

Situation Room

"I understand, Mr. Harrevelts."

Swanner wasn't lying here - he couldn't expect Harrevelts to just allow a foreign special operations team, armed to the teeth, to fly into his country. It would have been a tough sell for allies, and Irav and the USC were anything but. Of course, he could have mobilized a plainclothes SWORD team to pull up at the embassy in fifteen minutes, armed with machine guns and grenades, but that would solve more problems than create. SWORD was already facing a lot of Top Secret exposure if the defense of the embassy went badly, and showing off the location of one of the hidden assault teams in the Iravian capital just wasn't worth it.

Speaking of exposure, there were two people in the embassy who could not be recaptured. Jan Hoord and Steven Moren, two Iravians that SWORD had kidnapped - no point in dancing around reality - and had been interrogating for quite some time now. Their recovery would be a big blow to SWORD teams operating in a hostile city, something those agents didn't need. They had to be evacuated, and if that didn't work, they would have to be put down. What a diplomatic nightmare that would create.

Swanner glanced back at the monitor, which was still showing real-time data from the embassy when a message popped up. It was from Connerian Orbital Command. Swanner raised an eyebrow as he read how all three satellites they had in geosync over Westerkwartier had been blinded, apparently by an anti-satellite emplacement. This complicated things quite a bit.

Swanner turned his attention back to the phone call with Eelco Harrevelts as his Secretary of Foreign Affairs let him know they were working on located and determining the status of the anti-sat weapon.

"Mr. Harrevelts, all three of our satellites over the embassy have just been blinded by an anti-satellite weapon. I assume that facility has been compromised as well, as I'm sure there's no way the Iravian government would blind our satellites, especially now. On that note, we're also going to need to work on intelligence sharing to make sure we know what the situation outside looks like."

Connerian Embassy
Westerkwartier

"Grenade!"

As explosives were lobbed into the hallway at the Connerians, the soldiers boosted backwards. One of them, however, was not fast enough, and the body was thrown limply backwards. As another one of the soldiers started to pull back, his privatize HUD gave him all the information he needed - grenades specialized to take down armor. The mid-2030s gear never stood a chance. The soldier was dead, and so he laid there, the first real casualty in the fight against the hordes of terrorists swarming the embassy.

The soldiers continued to return fire, although the amount of bullets and grenades flying towards them was starting to get worryingly high. It was now no longer a question of whether or not they would have to pull further back, but when and with now many bodies left laying on the floor.

Meanwhile, Heath Thomas was sprinting through the hallways of the embassy. Every staccato of gunfire gave him a bit more speed, although now it was less a series of staccatos and more a never-ending din. The Chief Security Officer tapped his ear and barked into the comms.

"I need the ambassador's protection to meet me by the elevator to Sub-Level Four in 60 seconds. How copy?"

He heard a series of affirmations, and he picked it up again, loosening his tie as he rounded another corner. He dodged a couple of technicians, running the opposite direction, and came upon a pair of elevator doors. Clustered around the door were six large men in suits, all with pistols drawn. One of the men that had leveled his gun at Thomas as he came around the corner lowered it.

"Almost shot you, boss."

"Thanks for not doing that." Thomas rolled his eyes. "Two Level Seven personnel are coming up this elevator in maybe ten seconds. They are coming with us - if they resist, pick them up and we move. We get through here, grab Priority One, and get to the Warbird on the roof. We're going to be running through the firefight, so get ready." The men all nodded as the doors dinged open. Two soldiers in tactical gear came into view, assault rifles leveled. As soon as they recognized the men in suits, they lowered those guns. The two stepped out, followed by two men with black sacks over their head. Behind them came another two soldiers. Without speaking, a suit grabbed each of the prisoners, their massive hands gripping their weak, emaciated shoulders.

Thomas glanced at the soldiers. "Two of you take point, the other two take the rear. You know the drill." The soldiers responded with a flat, digitally altered voice, and then they moved. The posse moved quickly through the hallways, the two prisoners not having much choice in the matter. Within a minute, the group was at the ambassador's door. Thomas coded in, and the wall slid opened to reveal a steel door, which itself then opened. Inside was the ambassador and a pair of men in suits. After, yet again, both groups lowered their weapons, the ambassador was unceremoniously shoved into the middle of the group. They took off at a run again, Ambassador James Dawson protected by both ballistic armor and human shields.

The noise of gunfire got louder and louder, until eventually it was almost deafening. Thomas spoke into the comms, his voice cutting through the din. "Lots of bullets flying overhead. Keep your head down, sir, and we'll get through this. Let's move."

The group kept running, eventually reaching a point where they were right behind the line of soldiers protecting the embassy. They continued to sprint at breakneck speed - the prisoners, the only ones who hadn't practiced running like this and also the only ones who couldn't see their feet, were roughly lifted off the ground and carried by two suits. Thomas wasn't worried about being hit - he knew the greater risk was that the attackers would see a group of guards escorting three VIPs and send forces after them.

They would have to be fast. And maybe a bit lucky.

[Irav]

February 11th, 2074
Presidential Office, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:24 hours

''Your satellites have been blinded? That is utterly impossible. According to my knowledge there are no such weapons in the capital.'' President Harrevelts said genuinely surprised. After walked numerous circles through his office, the President walked back to his desk. By tapping his fingers in a certain pattern on the upper right corner of his desk he activated a large television screen on his wall, one that was previously hidden from view.

’’Three blinded Connerian satellites … But how … The President said as if he was conducting an investigation. Of course he was briefed on what was happening, and how his loyal Vice-President had given the order to have those satellites blinded. But giving up right now would mean a world war, and as was the case he would have to continue lying for the benefit of everyone involved. Then he saw something. A small facility on the edge of the map that was listed as compromised, by who or what was unknown, and the garrison had never reported back to the High Command. ’’Our facility must have been compromised at the same time as your embassy. I’m dispatching an anti-terrorist team right now Mr. Swanner.’’ President Harrevelts ensured his colleague.

President Harrevelts was still in the business of buying as much as time as he could for his troops. ’’I can have one of my servants provide you with the latest details outside of the embassy.’’ The President said as he took another careful look at the dimmed screen. ’’I can’t pass this on to Swanner unedited.’’ Mr. Harrevelts thought to himself as he identified one classified location after another. He hadn’t been in this office for that long, but he had gotten awfully good at this job. And with another overly complicated tapping combination on the upper right corner of his desk the map was sent to an operative of Section 8. With the order to delete any classified information after which he could pass it on to the Connerians. ’’The map shall be on your desk in a few minutes from now Mr. Swanner.’’

February 11th, 2074
Connerian Embassy, Westerkwartier, Iravian Federation
12:25 hours

After the grenade had exploded there was an awkward silence around the room, the hallway, and the atrium in which the Connerian forces were hiding. The platoon leader, Cobra, took this moment of complete disorganization under the Connerian security to take a quick peak down into the atrium. Then he could see someone running, it was a group of people. Heath Thomas and James Dawson, he or rather his HUD recognized them quickly as their faces were saved in the Iravian database. He continued scanning the group. Some unidentified security personnel was running with the two Connerians and before the group disappeared once again he saw two other people, almost carried by the Connerian guards, though he couldn't indentify them himself he figured that they could be important to the embassy personnel.

’’Computer. Confirm the identities of unidentified civilians.’’ Cobra quickly requested as he took another glance down the hallway intro the atrium.

’’Identity unknown.’’ Was the only response that came from the computer. Where the mission once was to jeopardize the Connerian position in the Iravian Federation, it was perhaps more interesting to try and get his hands on the group that was desperately trying to flee the embassy. Thomas, Dawson, and two unidentified civilians. Who knew how big of a prize that could be.

Cobra began activating his communications. The other teams had to know about the details. ’’Wilson do you read me. I repeat Wilson do you read me.’’ Cobra spoke rather loudly as his team kept an eye out for the Connerians on the other side of the hallway. Wilson on the other hand was in the perfect position to ruin the Connerian evacuation plan.

’’Loud and clear boss. Is there something wrong?’’ Wilson replied as he threw the vent down next to him on the ground. In the distance there was the helicopter, while he hadn’t thought much of it he remembered that he should have sabotaged it. Even if it would mean that the Connerians were stuck here because of it.

’’Embassy personnel moving towards your position. Identified targets Heath Thomas, James Dawson, and escorts. My HUD has failed to identify two civilians with bags over their head, keep an eye out for those two. You have thirty seconds to sabotage that helicopter and return to safety before they reach your position. Cobra out.’’ And with that having been said he took another grenade from his belt. He threw it down the hallway and into the atrium just like a baseball player would have done, meters behind the first grenade. If only he could keep the Connerians off their feet then he would be happy.

He once again took cover behind the corner. Another member of the platoon, nicknamed Turtle copied the moves of his leader and also threw another grenade down the hallway. Turtle and Cobra nodded to each other as Cobra began to stand up.

’’Gentlemen. After the second explosion we charge their positions. Remember that tonight we dine in hell. Take no prisoners, finish the wounded. Another team will continue where we will end our assault. It has been an honour gentlemen, I intend to make the most of it.’’ Cobra said as he prepared his weapon for the final assault on the Connerian embassy.

’’God-fucking-dammit. Are you fucking kidding me.’’ Wilson said as the communications went black once again. He looked at the helicopter in the distance when a countdown timer began to appear on his HUD. Without much thinking he began sprinting towards his target, each step more looking like a rather large jump then sprinting. And within seconds he stood right next to the Connerian helicopter. As he was ordered to do he decided to reach for his weapon and take aim for the rotors.

And with two plasma shots he managed to damage the rotors to make any take-off like a game of Russian roulette. Dangerous, nearly impossible, but with the right steel balls it could be done. Second he attached a GPS system to the bottom of the vehicle. If it went anywhere he would know about it. When he was finished be quickly took covered behind a ledge on the roof that he jumped up to and laid silent for the arrival of the Connerians.

[United States of Conner]

Connerian Embassy
12:26 hours

"Grenades incoming - take cover!"

The Connerian soldiers ducked behind whatever could provide them protection from the blasts - tables, walls, whatever. With smoke still in the air, they continued to pop out of cover and return fire on the invaders. Their aim was clear, and yet rather vague - give the VIP party time to evacuate. That vagueness was about to be eliminated.

At once, a steel voice cut through the din of gunfire and explosions. "All teams, this is Commander Perry."

That name, that voice alone brought some measure of relief to the soldiers under fire. Perry was a titan of a man, sporting silver hair and the physical build of a silverback. He was one of those people naturally born for command, someone who always rose to the top, no matter what the odds. And as of now, he was in charge.

"Chief Dawson is escorting Priority One individuals to evac, so command falls to me. Assume a defensive position - our plan is to pull back to a secure location and hold down until friendly reinforcements arrive. I'm en route along with six additional units, ETA thirty seconds. Again, get ready to pull back."

Perry's plan was to slowly but surely move the Connerian forces back to the Embassy Core, the most heavily fortified part of the compound. It was in the middle of the main building, and had been built in case an Iravian invasion left the embassy staff stranded. This was a more or less equivalent scenario. The only difference was that the host nation was (supposedly) on their side now.

The soldiers, thankful to finally have a concrete battle plan, began to slowly retreat. It wasn't a turning of tails - they continued to fire at the oncoming terrorists, but while taking slow steps down the hall, towards the Core.

Meanwhile, on the top floor of the embassy, the ambassador's security team had crowded around the blast doors leading to the landing pad. There, Heath Thomas was frantically requesting security updates from any source he could find.

"Chief, this is Corporal Anderson, come in Chief, over."

Thomas only took a split second to make the connection. One of the VTOL pilots. He muted all other chatter and responded, "Go ahead, Corporal."

"Chief, the bird has come under fire from an unidentified source. We have no exact location, but coming out of those doors, the shots came from twelve to three o'clock, about sixty degrees above. We've taken two hits, believed to be plasma rifle shots. We can take off, sir, but it'll be risky."

Thomas glanced back to where they had come from, where the sounds of gunfire could be heard echoing up the side staircase.

"Corporal, we don't have a choice. Either we get out of here, or we die. What other units are on that bird?"

"Chief, we have four units, plus my copilot and me. What're your orders?"

Thomas considered the situation. The sound of gunfire was getting even louder. Time was one thing they didn't have. It was now or never.

"Alright. Corporal, be ready for takeoff ASAP. Prep your weapons system, and get the APS activated. We're coming out in thirty seconds." The Corporal's affirmation was muffled as Thomas turned to his team. Single hostile with plasma rifle, twelve to three, sixty. Kick down the door, suppressing fire, surround VIP. Use those two as shields. We have 25 meters to the VTOL. We move on my go. Mr. Ambassador, sir, keep your head down and follow me."

The soldiers around them checked their weapons, coordinating silently who would be firing first, making sure they would have a constant stream of fire on the ledge. After maybe ten seconds, they turned to Thomas and nodded. Thomas nodded back, and the soldiers closed in around Ambassador Dawson, who just put his head down and took a deep breath. The two prisoners were roughly shoved to one side of the huddle as one of the men muttered something in their ears to motivate them to run.

Thomas said, with a tone of finality, "Corporal, we're coming out. Clear?"

The Corporal's voice, a slight shake before turning back to the strong, professional tone of a Connerian pilot, responded. "Ready for takeoff. Clear."

"Five, four, three, two, one, go."

Thomas kicked the door open and then stepped back, allowing two of the soldiers to exit first. One of them immediately began unloading rounds at the general direction that the Corporal had indicated. They weren't trying to hit anything in particular, but rather hoping to force any hostiles to keep their heads down. When the first soldier ran out of ammo, the second began to fire while the first quickly reloaded. They moved sideways at a light jog - slow enough to keep themselves steady, but fast enough to make themselves harder to hit and lower the time from the door to the secure VTOL.

A couple seconds after those two had left, Thomas and two other soldiers surrounded Dawson and started their own run. The Ambassador's ears were assaulted by the constant, unceasing boom-boom-boom of precise bursts of gunfire. He wasn't complaining though - that meant the soldiers were doing their jobs, and Dawson obeyed Thomas's orders, keeping his head low and running quickly between the three soldiers.

By now, the first two soldiers had reached the VTOL and were inside, continuing to fire out of the door at the ledge above them. The last group of men had left the door - two soldiers and the two men in hoods, who were roughly escorted along. The soldiers couldn't possibly fire their weapons, each of them using both hands to essentially carry their prisoners, and so the other Connerians on the roof continued to lay down fire for them.

Thomas's group, the Ambassador's group, had reached the VTOL now. Dawson was roughly shoved into a seat and buckled in, two men standing in front of him to protect the VIP from any stray rounds that might come into the bird. Thomas and the other two soldiers continued to lay down fire on the roof.

For a while, it looked like everything would be all right.

With the last four just a few feet away, Thomas was about to give the order to take off when a zap-POP cut through the air. There was a bright flash, and one of the Connerians staggered to his left, smoke rising off of his shoulder. Dawson had experience with plasma rifles, and knew that the bolt hadn't hit the man full-on because he still had his right arm. However, the soldier had dropped his prisoner, who was now wildly running around, trying to get away from the constant gunfire and yelling.

Thomas made a split second decision. He lept down from the bird, grabbed the wounded man, and pushed him inside the VTOL. The man, against his pain tolerance training, let out a small scream, but he quickly hauled himself the rest of the way in with one arm. Then, Dawson spun around and rushed back to the VTOL. He jumped back in and barked into his comms, "Corporal, take off NOW!"

The Corporal responded with an affirmation, and the bird instantly tilted to one side. The two pilots could be heard talking to each other in low, quick voices that meant something was wrong. Thomas recalled the few full glances he had gotten of the VTOL before he had entered - the rotors had been damaged with what looked like plasma bolts. It would be a risky takeoff.

After a few stomach-lurching seconds of swaying, the VTOL leveled out. It sat in the air, maybe three meters above the ground, as if uncertain about itself. After finding its footing, it began to rise into the air, the pilot telling the copilot this was as fast as they could possibly ascend and the copilot telling the pilot they would have to go a hell of a lot faster to get out of here.

Thomas cut himself off from all that and looked back down on the pad. One of the prisoners, he didn't know which, was trying to loosen the bag that had been fastened around his head. Thomas swore under his breath and leveled his rifle. Losing the prisoner was bad, but leaving him alive and talking would be worse. Against the movement of the VTOL, his chest rising and falling from the panting, and the movement in the bay, Thomas forced his weapon to be steady and pulled the trigger.

Once, twice. The prisoner crumpled instantly, a red cloud emerging from the far side of his head as holes were punctured in the bag and his skull. Three times. The falling man's chest received three more shots as he fell to the ground, all support in his legs gone. Four times. The fallen body shook, as though it were in the middle of a spasm, as bullets impacted its back.

Satisfied with his work, Thomas closed the doors of the VTOL, securing them. His work was done - now he had to rely on the pilots to get them the hell out of Dodge. He turned to the front of the bird and barked, "Corporal, fire on that ledge and then get us the hell out of here!" The pilot nodded and the copilot quickly targeted as Thomas turned on his comms and navigated to a secure Connerian channel.

"Command, this is Heath Thomas, Chief-Sec Iravian Embassy. Onboard a hit VTOL with VIP 1 and ..." Thomas paused to pull the hood off the one remaining prisoner. Confirming the man's identity, he was about to continue when he heard an explosion. He turned and could see through the front window of the bird a large fireball rising towards the sky from where that plasma shot had come from. It formed an almost beautiful contrast against the skyline of the Iravian City, but Thomas had no time for it. "Codename Informant. Codename Outreach is dead, left on the landing pad. I have one wounded, condition ... bad but stable, for now. Please update with further information and rendezvous zone. Until then, en route to Carrier Group Alpha-Gamma-Bravo, heading and VTOL diags to follow. Will stand by for update."

Situation Room
12:26 hours

"It's good to hear that a team is en route. If you need intel from inside the embassy, let me know. We want any counter-attack to be as effective as possible."

Swanner had already made up his mind that any intel that was given to the Iravians was to be kept vague, not specific enough to identify positions of Connerians inside the embassy unless absolutely necessary. The President still didn't think that Harrevelts was in on it - but the fact that another Iravian facility had been compromised at the same time had rattled him somewhat. This was bad news. The group laying siege to the Connerian embassy wasn't some small extremist group, it was an organization that had the resources and skill to attack two highly secure targets simultaneously. It wasn't likely that this had happened without help from what was hopefully a rogue faction of the Iravian government.

Swanner muted the call quickly. "I want a team to recon the facility that has been compromised. Sats won't work, do we have a team on the ground nearby?"

He got a response quickly - someone else had had the same thought. "Sir, we've got a team ten minutes out. I'm sending them in now to do light recon. They're some of our best."

Swanner nodded and unmuted the call. "Apologies, Mr. Harrevelts. Could you give me more details about this anti-terrorist team that's been dispatched? What should we tell our people in the embassy to look out for?"