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Special Bulletin Revnami (OPEN, READ INTRO, MT)

A staging-point for declarations of war and other major diplomatic events. [In character]
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New Hayesalia
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Special Bulletin Revnami (OPEN, READ INTRO, MT)

Postby New Hayesalia » Tue Aug 15, 2017 9:41 am

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Based on Special Bulletin, 1983. Other players are welcome to participate as foreign diplomats at the Parliament Complex, citizens in Revnami, and so on. I will largely be following the story of this movie, with twists for the New Hayesalian situation. In this movie, a terrorist group brings a homemade atomic bomb aboard a tugboat in the harbour of Charleston, South Carolina in order to blackmail the U.S. Government into disabling its nuclear weapons, and the incident is caught live on television. The movie simulates a series of live news broadcasts on the fictional RBS Network. In the New Hayesalian capital, on Lake Neike by the Parliament. Their intentions are mysterious, but involve forcing the end of New Hayesalian interventions, releasing the names of intelligence officers, and releasing classified documents regarding the nuclear blasts in the Second Zellatian Civil War. It's hard to imagine how much damage such an attack could cause...



THE PARLIAMENT COMPLEX, REVNAMI, THE NEW HAYESALIAN CAPITAL PROVINCE

The head and the heart of the Greater Island Kingdom stretched across a swath of land, a citadel comprised of 36 freestanding white clad buildings. The stone and glass towers of the Parliament Complex were the home to the offices of Ministers, Senators, and Members of Parliament, as well as the peak bodies of dozens of Ministries and the Embassies of some of New Hayesalia's closest allies. The largest of the buildings was the House of Parliament itself, leaning over an immaculately kept parade ground.

On a daily basis, tens of thousands of New Hayesalians reported for work in this establishment. They were political staffers and press, security guards and cafe baristas, ministry staff and lobbyists, all unified by this comparably small part of the world. The long, winding courtyards and gardens of the Central Corridor withstood millions of footsteps from shined shoes and police boots, of tourists and guests travelling to various small attractions, and on the east side of the Parliament, the Parade Ground and East Gardens remained a popular picnic spot for tourists and residents alike. The blue waters of Lake Neike stretched across to the Revnami CBD, where the CityLife building dominated the skyline, the Lake's western and eastern shore at a distance of about a kilometre.

On the Lake itself, pleasure craft and rowing boats along with catamaran ferries criss-crossed the small waves, riding and falling on the light inclines. They easily filtered under the two bridges at the north and south of this part of the the Lake - technically connected to a sea-feeding river - and kept a busy pace to the light waters. People, cyclists, and cars went about their business in the Revnami cityscape, buildings stretching hundreds of metres into the sky hosting businesses and residential apartments overlooking the heart of the New Hayesalian Government.

The last building in the Parliament Complex was Building 35. It was the heartland of security for this whole area, including the Prime Minister's own office. Jointly run by the New Hayesalian National Police and the gendarme Royal Montmarian Guard - including elements such as the Parliament Complex Armed Response Team (PCART), Parliament Complex HAZMAT Team (PCHT), and the command offices for multiple other sections - it was responsible for the security of the Complex and all it contained. Simple jobs, like bicycle police patrols, simple foot patrols, security responses, and a wide variety of other jobs, were all based from the barracks and guard rooms contained here. It was also linked to the entire area security system. That included high fidelity cameras, live monitoring of controlled access points, lockdown commands, fire responses, and alarms.

It also fed back information from CBRN detectors positioned in rings around the Complex. The first set, mounted under the Neike River Go-between Bridge, had triggered a radiological response. Not a major one, but a noticeable spike. Immediately, a National Police constable set the CCTV cameras to view it's trigger. A fishing boat, marked 'IROQUOIS' was just before the bridge. Clearly, it was going to go underneath. As it did, the 16 metre long vessel crossed under the radiological sensors - a peak, noticeable but not dangerous, rocketed.

This was seen by a Police Senior Sergeant, followed by his quick enquiry, followed by a general alert.

With great speed, a National Police Goldfish RHIB set out with a maximum speed. From a covered 'hangar' the boat, callsign "Speedo 3," propelled to 50 knots, four armed police officers in the passenger seats and another in the cockpit. The Model 10 sub machine guns slapped on their armoured chests, held by slings, as the boat jumped the waters, quickly turning and coming alongside the Iroquois with sirens, blue and red lights activated. A police officer stepped forward as the boat slowed, speaking into the boat's large bullhorn.

"Motor vessel Iroquois, this is the New Hayesalian National Police Water Police. You are to to stop your engines and heave to and prepare to be boarded, I say again stop your engines and heave to and prepare to be boarded."

The cruiser slowed, it's captain on the fly deck turning and raising his hands. He was dressed in jeans and a fisher's shirt, and watched as the four police officers entered the vessel. They had raised their light weapons, with the lead police officer ordering the man down to the deck, a pistol pointed at him. As the man did, his foot triggered a trap. Camouflaged on the deck among the visual clutter of fishing gear, a command line operated Taser Shockwave - a claymore mine-type device that fired the supercharged barbs of a police taser - activated, spraying dozens upon dozens of electrified wires onto the unprotected legs and arms of the four police officers. All were effectively downed, and cried in pain as they dropped to the deck, muscles seizing. They dropped their weapons, which fell along them with their straps, though none fired. After the blast of compressed air, a hatch in the rear, followed by the rear door and the port side door, opened, with five armed figures rushing out. All wore civilian clothes and black balaclavas, but each was armed with 7.62mm Kalashnikov-type sub machine guns. One held a taser in his left hand, and the gun in his right.

The assailants dropped onto the police officers and used their own handcuffs to take them into their custody, stripping them of their weapons and throwing them into the cabin of the vessel. The master of the police vessel drew his pistol, but hesitated to fire, fearful of striking his comrades. Before he could, a burst of fire knocked him down, the red killswitch wire strung across his leg pulling the key from the engine and disabling the boat. Police commanders with CCTV saw it all, and seemingly knowing that the police would quickly dispatch a response, a canvas roll was unrolled, covering the port side and looking towards the Parliament Complex.

"Vessel armed with weapon of mass destruction - nuclear weapon on board." The internationally recognised nuclear symbol followed beneath.

The police officers were dragged to the ship's cabin, and connected to the solid metal pole that attached the table to the floor. There was no escape here. As quickly as it had begun, the people aboard the ship were in the cabin - with the officers - and set aboard fortifying. A light roll of barbed wire was set across the ledges of the boat, which would slow any boarding attempt, a laser alert system also switched on to alert the people aboard if such an attempt was made. Small CCTV cameras also came alive, recording the vessel from all directions, beaming to the lower deck. Across the large windows, which had long before been replaced with bullet resistant glass, adhesive metal strips were applied, blocking the vision in and providing some limited blast and gunfire protection to the people aboard. It was a vessel clearly designed to lure and trap these officers.

The skipper took control from the lower deck, and steered slowly but clearly to a position near to the Parliament Complex. Speedo 3 drifted in the harbour, the injured police man aboard calling for help on his radio. A small tin boat, piloted by a beer-bellied 40 year old and his gangly 18 year old son, also laden with fishing lines, pulled the officer off the boat and headed towards a police vessel coming around from downriver - taking him away from the deadly Iroquois.

With this having occurred, the police command centre was all settings go - quickly, officers in the underground command centre reviewed videos from the boat, CCTV, and officers. They saw the weapons. They read the sign. They saw the Kalashnikovs. This was something they trained for - a big one. A scary one. Perhaps for an abundance of caution, a Parliament Complex- wide radio message was sent. It would reach all the security, bodyguard, on-site medical and emergency personnel in the Complex.

"Break, Break, Break, this is Papa Hotel Quebec - ALERT, ALERT, ALERT, Code Purple, Code Purple, Code Purple. Code Orange November, Code Orange November, Code Orange November. Quicksand, Quicksand, Quicksand!"

This alert had four distinct meanings that were partially understood by all, and all by some. Code Purple was the general call, known to all radioed staff as a bomb threat. It was distinct to a Code Black, a direct attack and intention to attack the Parliament Complex - or it's bigger brother, Black Ultima, an armed terror attack against the Parliament. Code Orange was a follow up - to evacuate. The November modifier instructed those responsible to funnel evacuees north, through a business park filled with Government offices. Quicksand was the tricky one, and it would affect one person more than any other.

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New Hayesalia
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Postby New Hayesalia » Tue Aug 15, 2017 11:29 am

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CHAPTER 1 | DEMANDS


Quicksand. The meaning was clear to the Royal Montmarian Guard's elite defenders of the Prime Minister - New Hayesalia's leader. Evacuate with speed to the ECO - Emergency Control Office.

The Prime Minister's office sat on the corner of the Parliament's top floor, located a few dozen metres above the floor of the Senate. It's odd shape and bright furniture rendered it much more cosmopolitan and airy than many of it's monarchical equivalents, this grand series of buildings having only been completed in 2007. His departmental staff had their own offices and meeting spaces too, equally as fresh and vibrant. Today, the Prime Minister met with His Excellency Jay Armsen, a Vannish gentleman with the years of age catching up with his hair. 10 minutes of the Prime Minister's time in a nation of 15.6 billion was a resource as good as gold - Armsen had scored 15.

The Prime Minister's personal secretary sat at a wood-finished desk, it's panels protruding like the diamond shapes of the wall, tasked with keeping Daniel Hayes on schedule.

"The simple fact is, Jay," the PM said, a Vannish Government report spread out in front of his L-shaped desk, "the automobile trade is dead. We don't use cars anymore, not near the cities anyway. If Valhollin wants to build a car factory in Fotuzi well that's fine and dandy, but Ќ8,000,000,000 worth of tax breaks, especially when they don't offer EVs that compete with even early models. We can't just pretend that -"

The door to the Prime Minister's office swung wide, a suited man with a silver crown on his lapel entering without hesitation. This was Guards Captain Michelangelo Artise - an easy name to remember - the Prime Minister's own head of personal security. Wherever Hayes went, Artise soon followed. The Vannish ambassador turned on a swivel, seeing the large man followed by a troupe of additional suited men and woman. The RMG had stormed the most secured office in the nation, and were making their demands clear. Follow.

The Prime Minister was quickly taken by the wrist on each side by an RMG member, one following in a close diamond formation. While his usual route to the elevator took him out, left, right and forwards, this one took yet another right. To what looked like a storage cupboard to an outside viewer, stood a guarded, independently powered lift. It went two places - the PM's floor, and to floor U. Underground. Prime Ministerial aides would follow, taking stairs, as the PM was whisked to the floor below. At some dozens of metres below Parliament, the floor became a tunnel. The tunnel was hardly long, but it led to a unique structure. This was the Prime Minister's Emergency Control Office. Military, Police, ministerial and public aides were kept in a box, cushioned partially on strings, and equipped with life support, communications, command, control, and broadcasting equipment - it even had a shower.

The rush of the Prime Minister here followed a brief, the Prime Minister being set up as his staff began arriving in numbers in the main office. Very little of the Cabinet was in Revnami today - most were off on electoral duties in their home towns. In fact, of them all, only Aaron Collett, the Energy Minister, was in the Parliament. He too was quickly shuttled to the ECO. The screens of the ECO showed another conference table filling, with the Commissioner of the National Police connected by fibre optic wires to the 'bunker.'

The Prime Minister, his aides, and somehow caught up in the flurry the Vannish ambassador, not speaking as yet - had been brought into this room. The briefing began.



Media were beginning to assemble. Already public transport and the flow of traffic was being halted as National Police officers began closing roads, streets, and cycle ways. They moved outwards from the Parliament Complex, being directed from police helicopters now in the air, evacuating buildings and streets and sending pedestrians north. There was urgency - but not yet emergency, other than the suspicion of the NHNP that this was indeed a legitimate threat.

The men on the boat had come to a halt. Their position was one kilometre from the Parliament Complex, a dropped anchor fixing them there. River traffic was being cleared, though no police boats had dared to enter the firing range of the AK-74 carrying bandits. RMG officers and National Police officers had taken positions at 360 degrees around the boat, binoculars and rifle scopes watching the vessel from all directions. It was easy for them - and the media and public cameras watching from the city proper - to see the unravelling of two more messages, on the canvas rolls.

"DEMANDS: A LIVE FEED ON ANY NATIONAL UNION 24 NEWS CHANNEL

DEADLINES: ONE HOSTAGE KILLED EVERY HOUR.

WE ARE ARMED WITH A NUCLEAR WEAPON AND IT WILL BE DETONATED IF WE ARE APPROACHED, ATTACKED, OR DEMANDS ARE NOT MET

LOOKON ID: ZELLATIAN-ANSWERS"

Public fear was now rising. In little more than 5 minutes, Revnami's leading hashtag was #LakeNeikeBomb. People began leaving, moving north as directed, as riot police suited up - knowing some may seize the day to steal.




Prior to the message unveiling, a man had presented himself to the Local Command Headquarters of the National Police based in the Revnami City area. He had introduced himself with a smile, and had asked to see a detective officer regarding a potential tip off. When a detective had emerged and welcomed the man into an interview room, he sat, and provided the detective with an envelope. Following that, he requested to be arrested under the Terrorism Act of 2009, and promptly ceased to speak.

After constables had taken the man into custody, the letter was scanned, and opened, with the Boat Situation's pressure mounting. The message was clear, and it was instantly verifiable.

An image of the same bandits and the same guns, aboard the same ship, likely some time ago. Pictures of them hand-painting the canvas messages now on the TV screens. Images of the Taser Shockwaves that had downed his fellow officers. Images of a what looked to be a device of some sort, with a geiger counter near it giving off a signal. And most importantly, a phone number, and a private messaging app ID. The information was quickly sent to the Parliament Complex command, and the National HQ.

"We have hostages. The total amount is written on the back of this letter's envelope."

A number 4 had been written onto the back in black ink.

"We will kill one hostage on the hour from the time of our signal's release. We will hand our hostages over to you, unharmed, once our demands for the following are met. We demand access to a live Union 24 news feed, with the necessary equipment to be delivered by an unarmed journalist. They will not be harmed. Hostages will be released when this is delivered. We wish to present our case to the people of New Hayesalia and are prepared to do this in other ways if we are not successful in this endeavour."

"We are carrying a nuclear weapon with a predicted yield of 10 kilotons. It is an implosion type device, based on a Los Alamos design with 5.2 kilograms of plutonium. This plutonium was stolen from a Zellatian nuclear research laboratory during the Second Civil War."

"We are doing this for a good purpose, though we know we must use force to achieve our aims."




SHORTLY THEREAFTER, UNION 24 HOUSE, REVNAMI

The national centre of Union 24, the public broadcaster of New Hayesalia, was stationed on the upper side of the city, providing it room for it's various facilities and communications equipment outside the urban jungle. The triangle mosaics of Union 24's logos were matched in it's boardrooms, including this one - named Revnami - where what could be assembled of the management and editorial boards met with police senior officers, and teleconferenced with the Communication Minister's office from Aldiss, in the northern provinces of the nation.

"They've got a gun to your heads!" called one fired-up editor, Janine Siklet, to a Police Chief Superintendent. "How can you reject the one thing that could save four of your officers?"

"Because they might not be serious, and they may very well be!" he returned, equally hot under the collar.

"Stop!" Peter Chelle retorted, interrupting both of the warring parties. The board's Chairman was not a tall man, and he was not a strong looking man, but from somewhere deep within he could acquire a thundering voice that would dull the sharpest of retorts. It was his turn to speak, and his turn to make some decisions.

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New Hayesalia
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Postby New Hayesalia » Wed Aug 16, 2017 4:38 am

Union 24 News Theme
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CHAPTER 2 | BROADCAST


The floor of the new anchor's set came into view as a commercial break ended, a carpet formed of dozens of mosaic-ed triangles matching the station's logo, with a black and white-topped desk ahead of three people. Two were anchors, Narayan Shrinivas and Nadiya Richards, and one was the chairman of Union's board - Peter Chelle. The ticker along the bottom of the screen was reading "Lake Neike Hostage Emergency." Ticker alerts gave further information in the bright yellow background that symbolised such an emergent situation.

"It's 10:03am in Revnami and the Lake Neike Hostage situation is ongoing, with residents making their way north out of the CBD area under advice of the National Police." Shrinivas began.

Video of the boat, shot from a variety of locations, was played on screen.

"The hostage takers have announced that they will execute one hostage each hour, with there being four water police officers taken hostage on board, with the threat to activate a nuclear device if their demands are not met. As such, police negotiators are in contact with the hostage takers and with Union 24, and have made an extraordinary request that we provide a camera man to hear their announcement. The hostage takers have made their identities public, and have been assessed as not being members of any known terror organisations."

"We're joined by Peter Chelle, chairman of the directorial board at Union 24. Peter, why is Union giving these people a voice on television?"

Chelle sat up a touch in his chair, the fixating glare of a live camera capturing his every expression.

"Well we've been in meetings with the National Police, and this is an event that's really going to the top. This is because the police do believe there is the potential for a 'contaminating agent' to be used. This doesn't mean these hostage takers have a nuclear weapon or anything dangerous, but they may be able to cause environmental damage if they did activate whatever it is they have. It is not considered a major threat to public safety at this time, but the police are being very careful with this in mind. More importantly, these hostage takers have made their identities known to the National Police, and they have been assessed as rational people."

"It's for that reason that Union 24, as the public broadcaster, has been asked to provide a volunteer to be taken to the boat to film a live and prepared piece to camera. We too have performed a risk assessment, and received a volunteer in James Salerdin, who is a veteran combat photographer and correspondent for Union. He will be both cameraman and presenter for this, and is being briefed as we speak. We believe that the release of hostages and the chance to speak to this national news agency is the total goal of the hostage takers, as do the NHNP."

"But why risk the safety of a journalist to achieve this?" replied Roberts, concerned.

"There's obviously the risk of ethical questions and whether we, as journalists, should be a part of this story. But we have to put aside our ethical questions and be aware of the fact that we have been specifically asked to play a part in protecting the lives, immediately, of four people; as well, we may be one of the necessary parts of the equation to stop a danger to the people of Revnami, who are just ordinary people like you and me. We also know that this is a major story, and there is an importance in capturing both sides of that story. This group has proved it's seriousness in wounding a police officer, so it's a dangerous situation we hope to help temper."

Nadiya Richards took a moment to address the camera.

"Yes, and with that disclaimer we are now going to Meg Barker in the Revnami CBD, where preparations are being made to take James Salerdin to the boat, now anchored in Lake Neike."




Meg Barker, curly brown hair hiding the clear earpiece of a reporter, was reporting from the balcony of a Revnami apartment that had been evacuated by doorknocking police. The city's public alert system had been activated, with people across the city hearing loudspeaker announcements to make their way, by bicycle or by foot, to any place north of Snider Avenue, to the north of the CBD's core. Though not a figure known to the public, this was a result of an estimate provided directly to the New Hayesalian Prime Minister by the Army's CBRN Response Unit.

A detonation of the weapon, at an estimated 10 kilotons, would create a fireball on the water's surface. It would be large, and certainly cause some significant flooding waves, but it was just a first order effect. Next, at a distance of 470 metres from the point of detonation, the over pressure would be so significant that most buildings would fall. It was quite possible that the Parliament Building would be in range, and potentially some of the Stone Towers that made up the complex would meet an end. At 990 metres, the air burst would be lower, but simple structures would be felled, cars would be written off, windows and decor decimated, and the nearby bridges rendered unsafe for any further use. Radiation and thermal radiation would go as far as 1.4 kilometres, with any exposed persons likely to die quickly from radiation poisoning and painless - but nerve destroying - thermal radiation burns. Already, the New Hayesalian Military was mobilising, with members of all six of the Military services being trucked into Revnami to knock on doors, escort people north of the potential thermal radiation zones, and provide any other assistance as needed. Even the Netforce, the cyber security branch of the Military, was sending dozens of it's members to guide citizens out of the CBD and Parliament Complex. The evacuations were not mandatory - but not many were stubborn enough to stay.

"Good morning Nadiya. I can report that James, our correspondent, is currently being taken on a tin boat to the vessel Iroquois, I - yes, yes, we can see him."

The cameraman shifted his view to the boat, where two men were aboard and driving rapidly to the fishing boat.

"James Salerdin is absolutely one of the best journalists we have at Union," Barker continued, the camera following Salerdin's boat. "He's reported alongside New Hayesalian forces in Zellatia, Free Missouri, and Al-Khalifiyah... he's also been involved in a wide variety of other areas and conflicts around the world, and has won a number of awards for his exceptional reporting and photographic works. Ok, we can see now one of the hostage takers - yes, it's a blonde man it seems. He looks unarmed and he does have his hands up. He's unwiring a section of the barbed wire. Ok, yes, he's taking the camera. And he's helping James aboard. He looks, almost... happy? I'm looking through a telescope here but I can see what I think is a smile. This is certainly tense, but I'm not yet sure what to make of all this."




On the flat waters of Lake Neike, the slapping of the blue water against the two hulls was clearly heard, especially over the relative silence that had come about here. A number of police boats, both Goldfish RHIBs and more traditionally hulled vessels, had cut off river traffic, and the officers aboard were carefully watching the boat. The blonde man that welcomed the journalist aboard was sure that there would likely be a dozen rifle scopes pinned to him. He was almost right actually - there was about 32 National Police and Royal Montmarian Guard sniper-spotter teams positioned at 360 degrees around the vessel.

Welcomed aboard, Salerdin, was quickly taken into the main cabin, which was certainly humid, with four police officers looking up at him from under the boat's table. He counted five hostage takers, all in all. There was the captain, still wearing blue jeans and a blue fishing top, an older man with a smooth head and heavy bags around his eyes. There was no introductions after James made his identity known and was frisked, and he quickly set up the small news camera on a tripod and spoke into a microphone.

In his earpiece, a producer let him know that he was on with the Union 24 anchors and Chelle himself.

"Hello, do you see me?" he said, establishing his communications were in play.

"Yes James, loud and clear." came the response from Narayan.

"Ok good. I am on the vessel Iroquois with the hostages and the hostage takers, all people seem medically ok and are in calm spirits. I have with me the leader of this group, one Dr. Bruce Lyman. We now go..."

"Yes James, that's quite alright, I'll take it now."

The man came into frame. He was a taller man with an old face, and frizzled, medium hair. Darkened eyeglasses covered his eyes, and he wore a white striped shirt with a green puffed jacket. He carried no weapons, but his colleagues did. Certainly in the studios, the autodump button was being hovered over by the producers - allowing them to avoid broadcasting anything they shouldn't.

"Firstly with me is Dr. Dan McKeeson, this is Diane Silverman, Jim Seiver, and Freida Bartmann."

James, who had taken up a position back behind the camera, tilted it to show each of the hostage takers, in various states of dress, though all were not afraid to show their face. We're a collective, who've - "

Over a radio link to James Selerdin, Peter Chelle spoke, loud enough for the whole boat to hear.

"Dr. Lyman, you've requested a live feed with Union 24 News as a condition to release the hostages-"

"Y-yes, and we're going to release the hostages, the policemen, in a few moments, as soon as we've under..."

"The policemen? Now what about Mr. Salerdin, what about him?"

"W-well, no, no, I'm sorry, we're going to need Mr. Salerdin for further communications."

In a remarkably even tone, Chelle responded.

"Well Doctor, the agreement called for the release of all the hostages."

Lyman began to speak again and was cut off by his comrade, Dr. McKeeson. With long, blonde hair, and a short beard to match - and an AK-74u in his arms - he took the microphone.

"Well, uh - Mr. Chelle, it's Dr. McKeeson, the agreement called for the release of the hostages, and so we now, will, uh, release the police hostages."

"Well that's outrageous..." Chelle said, hope draining from his voice even as he spoke. With signals from Dr. Lymann, the police were disconnected from the table pole, and led - handcuffed still - through the cabin door. Their ballistic vests, by the virtue of the large flotation collars, would keep them up in the water. They would be walked off the boat, and as agreed, a small Fire and Rescue Service swiftwater boat would pull them all into safety, and then to an ambulance boat located just behind the police marine cordon.

Outside, the police spotters watched as the door opened. Their four police colleagues, the white shield of the National Police badge on their arms, were led to the rear of the vessel. The hostage taker, again armed with a Kalashnikov, kept it pointed at the handcuffed water police as he directed them to jump off the rear deck - something they did without hesitation. Their float collars supported them, and they kicked with great gusto in the opposite direction of the boat. The swift water boat, driven and crewed by fire and rescue officers, pulled the four individually back aboard, and then sped away as quickly as it had, with Jim Seiver making a quick return to the safety of the cabin after cutting a wire, with their hostage demands on canvas slipping to the deck, their demands met.

"Mr. Chelle I can absolutely guarantee you that Mr. Salerdin will come to no harm, no harm at all." Dr. McKeeson said, as live video of the rescue was being shown on Union. Dr. Lyman, demands now met, approached the camera.

"Mr. Chelle, we're not a terror group, we're a collective. A group that believes in justice. And this is why we're doing what we're doing today..."

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Postby Vangaziland » Wed Aug 16, 2017 1:30 pm

His day started out like many others, being undercut at pricing by the Hayesalian PM. The truth of the matter was that Valhollin was an extreme example. They were targeted towards everyday people movers, looking to bring affordable imports into foreign markets. Of course their stats wouldn't add up. This was just another lowball tactic to add an extra 3% tariff or so to all automobile imports from Vangaziland.

The suggestion would be to look at Vannish Motors instead. Just the past two years of race team sponsorship have generated a substantial profit in the form of sponsorships and advertising/product placement/marketing dollars. The Vangazi just had a knack for driving and the vehicles were gaining a reputation all their own. Vannish Motors imports more rare automobiles that are essentially collectibles. Their goal was not to bring an entire industry to New Hayesalia. They just wanted to target a select group of niche clients.

In fact, a Hayesalian celebrity bought one of the rarest vehicles to come out of the company's Central Vangaziland factories, the Vangaziland Edition of the Ghost GT-10.

"You give me six months, I'll give you your electric car, Mr. Prime Minister."

Jay Armisen was no slouch. He was one of the Old Dogs of Vangaziland, from a time when the military life was a little tougher. He then made a career navigating the brutal political scene of Vangaziland's Upper and Lower Houses. He was used to arguing, negotiating and pushing an agenda. Vangaziland would get their cars into that gigantic Empire, one way or another.

It was only after the staff entered and began speaking that the Vangazi understood the gravity of the situation. He stood back and let the Prime Minister handle the situation.

His hands became busy texting on his e-Van Tab Mini, communicating with his embassy staff and Vannish Prime Minister Goodsen. First off, he had his embassy cooperate with the immediate evacuation. They were gathering sensitive info and equipment and meeting up with emergency response personnel that would conduct the evacuation according to Hayesalian instruction.

The small Vannish security teams cooperated with local authorities to keep the contingent secure.

Goodsen left Armsen with one order. Shadow the Hayesalian Prime Minister. Stand by, Tablet Mini in hand, to provide updates. Goodsen had sent frantic texts offering support. He also called up a contact he had in the Hayesalian government, knowing the Prime Minister was busy. General H. Applebind called his peer in the Hayesalian chain of command to offer various forms of support, including intel, air and unconventional forces.

In the end, the Vannish officials' frantic offers of support were turned to the wayside, as the large Hayesalian behemoth already sprang to action. The area was set to flood with various alphabet agencies and response teams from almost every level of administration.

So Goodsen was forced to sit back and watch. Still, a special forces team was placed on standby. Analysts hypothesized that the team was sailing towards the area in a submarine. The Vangazi would hold in international waters, cruising with nuclear-powered stealth. The Vannish had to get eyes on, one way or another.

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Members of 5th Naval Special Weapons & Tactics, Team One conduct a training exercise with a Vannish submarine dated June 2017.


In the event of the worst case scenario, the asset could prove strategic. Of course, those were just the thoughts of military writers and analysts... Cable news hosts. The team could be on stand by in a host of scenarios.

Satellites might move to the area, at least from the Blue 3 Blue Force Tracker Network, meant for allied communication on systems such as the FBCB2, BGC3 or other digital battlefield communication networks. It would be the first step of synching air support and joint operations.

In the event of a nuclear detonation, Vangaziland would provide immediate assistance, including financial compensation from an emergency fund, similar to the one seen after the Turntry detonation in 2014. Scientific and clean up teams would start preparing as the news hit the public that a situation was in play.

The Order of the Purple Cross is one of the most extensive and active humanitarian aid organization in the multiverse today. Their team of specialists and equipment funded and designated from member nations is capable of a wide array of services and tasks.

For now, they all would have to wait. The hope was that there would be some end to the situation, by force or negotiation, before any contingency plans go into effect. In Vangaziland, the news would interrupt the post Olympic hangover and WGP2 highlights.

Overglade University and Blue Coast University held candlelight vigils, offering support and good wishes. The marches also took donations of food, clothing and cash sent to the Order Of The Purple Cross. The goal was to get fresh supplies, especially of perishable items like food, into the coffers. Even if things ended safely in New Hayesalia, the donations could be used in several other theaters, including Al-Khalifiya, where an intrepid team of doctors is still working, with only local Khalifiyan military support and a satellite phone number for Vannish Rangers, along with a few other support teams.

Armsen would try to stay out of the way and would often be in a room adjacent to the Hayesalian Prime Minister. But he was always just a door from communication. He'd politely refuse to leave, stating, "I'm in this mess too. Revnami is my home now, and part of my responsibility is to see this through... For the good of the city."
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Postby New Hayesalia » Thu Aug 17, 2017 4:09 am

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CHAPTER 3 | ANSWERS


In the heat of the boat, Jim Seiver swept beads of sweat across his forehead, dropping some on the wood grip of his rifle. The reporter listened with great intent and pointed his camera close in on Dr. Lyman's face, and a serious energy set into the boat's crew. He was still being broadcast live - they could see that with the ten second delay from a small TV on the boat's pilot instruments - and he took great care in addressing the glass of the lens.

"In 2015, the New Hayesalian Military and the Zellatian Armed Forces failed to prevent a series of nuclear detonations across the southern shores of Zellatia. In the order of 8 million people died in that first day, with nuclear related deaths now tallying more than 20 million. This 'broken arrow' incident was no accident, and it was the Civil War that made it happen. Whether you call it righteous separation or unjustified terrorism, that does not change the fact that without nuclear weapons, we would not be in the situation to begin with. Of this group, most are New Hayesalian. Jim is Zellatian, as am I. And Dr. McKeeson knows, for a fact, that the New Hayesalian Military is lying about their use of nuclear weapons."

This statement came as a shock. New Hayesalia had never maintained a stockpile of nuclear weapons, nor any weapons of mass destruction, and it was an accusation that seemed immediately without merit.

"I worked with a small cadre of New Hayesalian scientists, whom from direct orders of Prime Minister Edwin Bolt, worked with us to reverse-engineer Zellatian nuclear weapons. It was an extremely clandestine move, and an extremely dangerous one. These undeclared nuclear weapons are not high yield, but they are a growing and large tactical arsenal. Nuclear 'Swordbreaker' torpedoes, a 10 kiloton nuclear device, are known only to the highest echelons of the Military but would be used. Nuclear 'Genie' air to air missiles are now ready to be used, fired from almost any of our fighter jets or bombers. They're cheap, and if a large bomber decided to drop dozens of them all at once, they would do more damage with their 1.5 kiloton warheads than a single large bursts. It's clear New Hayesalia dosen't want to blow up the world - but we do not want this country to risk a nuclear reprisal, we don't want to risk a broken arrow, and we abhor the Governments willful dismay for the people of this country who have time and time again railed against nukes."

He took a breath.

"If that scares you, good. We know the city is being emptied. And you should know that we don't want to kill anyone today, we only want to make our country, and our region, our world, a safer, nuclear-free one. Revnami is where we start, and we have a single demand. We want the detonating modules from every single nuclear warhead in New Hayesalia. We know that there are 350 Type 1 modules for the air to air missiles, and 36 Type 2 modules for the Swordbreaker torpedos. We want them delivered to this ship by tomorrow at midday, so that we can take them out to sea and destroy them all. This is a unilateral disarmament."

"But if our demands are not met... it means that our Government is willing to throw away the lives of it's citizens, that they haven't learnt from the Zellatian civil war, that they don't want peace but only to build more and more weapons. Listen to me closely. My colleagues and I have constructed a nuclear device, and placed it aboard this ship. If the detonators aren't delivered to this ship by midday tomorrow, or if our exit from the lake is blocked in any way, this device will explode at 6pm tomorrow and believe me it will illustrate what it is we all have to fear."

"We do this not in anger, but as a desperate prevention of war and a hope for a lasting peace that the New Hayesalian Government threatens with their nuclear developments. I believe that's... all there is to say at this time. That's all. Cut back to your team. And the authorities are going to have to think about what Revnami and the Parliament Complex are worth to them."

As Lyman wrapped up his speech, the two hosts and the chairman looked stunned, and did not speak for a moment before Roberts spoke, a steely edge to her voice.

"What you've just heard is a statement by a group of... well, terrorists, I guess you'd have to call them, holding our reporter James Salerdin hostage on Lake Neike."

"Well, Nadiya," Chelle began. "Nuclear terrorism is something this country has feared for some time. But let's be clear. We don't know about this group, and we don't know that their threats are real. There've been hoaxes like this before."

With that, they moved on to various experts in the field, filling the news as producers and journalists dropped other projects to search feverishly for intel on Lyman and his terrorists.




At the Emergency Control Office, screens and soldiers formed a background as the Prime Minister and his emergency management advisors took shelter in the upper storey, with a large conference room overlooking the 'pit' of operators and control technicians below. The windows could instantly frost and de-frost, providing a clear environment as needed and an open one to view the various intelligence displays. Right now, after a series of questions and answers from the PM to his aides, Hayes took aside one Mr. John Marks - his Chief of Staff - and quietly spoke a question to him.

"John, can you explain to me why the Zellatian Ambassador is standing quietly in the corner, also, why is the Zellatian Ambassador here, and furthermore, how the fuck did the RMG let a foreign ambassador into our emergency operations centre?"

The Chief of Staff, who had been busy collating data and reports, had not noticed the grey, uninteresting looking man.

"Just see what he knows - we can't detain him legally, but if I have to lock us all in here to stop leaks, I'm gonna fucking well do it."

The Chief of Staff approached the Ambassador, meeting him with a quick handshake and a no nonsense statement.

"Good to see you, Mr. Ambassador. Care to explain what you're doing down here?"




With the Parliament Complex evacuated and in lockdown, with few remaining other than those in the underground security command post - and the New Hayesalian National Police surveilling the surrounding areas - the full scope of the evacuation was becoming apparent. The Revnami CBD, with places like the office of the Hayesalian Union Stock Exchange, business headquarters, national museums and institutions, some commercial news stations and offices, and a handful of government agencies, all evacuated. Residents had also been asked to leave, and many did. The embassies located in the Complex, as well as the nearby Pavillion Drive, had been requested to evacuate, with only some security guards being told to remain by their own national staff. It was a risk - for a number of embassies, their chanceries would be caught in the major over pressure area, or even the edge of the predicted fireball. The headquarters of all of the major Ministries, some 34 in all, had been evacuated, with operations continuing at their other offices or in the nation's largest city, Oppentin. Furthermore, the Military Headquarters had been evacuated and locked down. This was not the site of the Underway Operations Command, which was located some kilometres to the north of Revnami, but the day's general work and business would not be completed today from this large and imposing stone building. Furthermore, offices surrounding the Parliament Complex were closed and evacuated, as was the public transport and roads, closing down the headquarters of the Emergency Services Ministry, the Maritime Services Building, Citizen's Assembly Dormitories the Treasury, and the Revnami Netforce Office - with important operations again being taken over from remote bases in other cities.

Journalists, eager for information, were circulated information of a press conference location at the hall of the Revnami Hilton, of all places. Located safely north, the staff had quickly set the place up with the aide of police and government officials who'd volunteered to help out.

The presses arrival had been rowdy, but kept well controlled by the Hilton security team and the odd National Police officer. Right now, the Deputy Prime Minister was making her way back to the city - but the sheer size of New Hayesalia did not make that a speedy process. It was, therefore, that mid-ranking Member of Parliament for Kovesche, Mr. Gerardo Wrobel, had been called on by the Prime Minister to speak on behalf of his Government to the press conference. Though the PM could broadcast from his bunker, he could not host a press conference.

Stood before dozens upon dozens of members of the press, the MP was being depended on by his party to deliver results. A man with short black hair and a ruddy sort of skin, but for all intents a normal person in a white shirt and tie. Unspectacular, about to be made national news.

"Alright, everyone. The Prime Minister has been in communication with multiple agencies and I have been asked to provide information to the media regarding the ongoing situation. The New Hayesalian National Police has investigated since 2009 a total of 85 incidents of this kind, of which all were hoaxes and quickly dealt with. In no case did the threat turn out to be real, and we have no reason to believe this situation to be largely differen-"

"Why haven't we had any briefing on the other 85!" a journalist yelled, standing.

"Because in the other 85 you didn't have a news organisation sending it live to every house in New Hayesalia." the MP responded, curtly.

"Well then what about the evacuations!" another yelled, from the back.

"We have undertaken this evacuation as there is still the risk that these armed people may use their weapons, and there may be the risk of a radiological agent that could be air dispersed, however that does not mean that these people have a nuclear bomb on their boat. Ladies and gentleman, thank you, no more questions."




Not much later, an interview with a nuclear expert was ended abruptly on Union 24, with Narayan Shrinivas saying why.

"We've received a demand from the hostage takers that we now go live to hear from them regarding this response, we are being responsive to these demands for the safety of our correspondent on the vessel. James, are you there?"

On the vessel, the agitated five had watched Union with frustration, having seen Wrobel's press conference casting a wide net of doubt on their capabilities. Indeed, they were not lying about this.

"Yes, Narayan, I'm here with Dr. Lyman, I'm sorry to interrupt and he would like to make a response."

"Yeah, right, that's right." Lyman said, brushing the correspondent off and taking up the camera's view. Dr. McKeeson paced in the background as Lyman spoke.

"It seems the government and the NHNP and the military aren't taking this very seriously and they're talking about negotiation. We're all known by the government, we're not crazy, hell - we have six advanced degrees among us. Dave here he's known as... I mean does everybody think this is a hoax? Alright."

Lyman pulled a notepad from his pocket.

"Listen to this. The bomb we have on board has but a millionth of the power of the world's destructive arsenal and a thousandth or less of New Hayesalia's own..."

McKeeson interrupted, making indistinct sounds on the microphone, though calling Lyman over. Salerdin followed with his camera, watching. The two nuclear physicists spoke in rushed, hushed tones, argumentative. Lyman returned.

"Persuasion has failed, guilt has failed, religion has failed - what else is there to do? I spent years designing those weapons for the Zellatians and I know the New Hayesalians spent some months and we had our counterparts across the whole damn world do you think-"

"They're not interested in the damn counterforce!" McKeeson yelled, coming into the foreground and taking up the microphone. "James come with me please."

The journalist followed the two hostage takers as they descended, the two arguing as to whether they should even show what they were about to on television, whether they would lose a tactical advantage. They descended to the very lower deck, the bunks. What they saw was major, and massive. Steel and silver metal coiled around in boxes, a barrel-shaped hunk of metal taking central place with a red LED timer showing the current time in Revnami down to the millisecond.

"This is it." Mckeeson said, pointing at the nuke. "This is the device. It's an implosion style bomb, what's called a Fat Man style bomb. It's a Los Alamos design with 5.2 kilograms of plutonium. This plutonium was stolen from a Zellatian nuclear research laboratory during the Second Civil War. This is what we've already told the NH Government and the police, so they definetly know this already, they've just been lying about what they do and don't know. We began building this device in June of last year, and now it's ready. I've installed several anti-tamper devices, all of my own design, and if anybody so much as breathes on this thing without my say-so it'll blow up or I'll blow it up. It's got shock monitors so that if we're bombed ourselves, it will go off; if it's hit with machine gun fire and it triggers an anti tamper device, it'll go off, if someone cuts a wrong wire - so to speak - it'll go off."

He looked to the camera, and smugly remarked.

"Now the only person who can turn those anti-tamper devices off is yours truly. Don't try bribing me or offering me money or anything, I have all that kind of stuff, the ONLY way to get me to turn them off is to bring me those damn detonator modules."

The camera zoomed in yet further.

"I know there are CBRN Response guys in the Army, from the nuclear power stations too, and they can all verify this, it's real, there's no prop here... we're not amateurs!" he said, sighing with exasperation.


Last edited by New Hayesalia on Fri Sep 29, 2017 10:21 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Postby New Hayesalia » Tue Sep 05, 2017 4:37 am

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CHAPTER 4 | STRESS


News was spread across the nation, with public alerts rising in the wake of the Revnami nuclear threat. Already, local government officials were predicting late nights in the office, others still considering if back-up attacks could hit their cities. Still more, particularly pacifists, were beginning to believe in the demands of the terrorists - that they had a nuclear weapon, and more importantly that New Hayesalia did, secretly.

In Revnami, things were becoming complex. People, notably photographers, journalists, and younger sorts, had come back into the city. The evacuation was not mandatory, and while a solid 80 to 90% of people had gone north, these people remained to gawk and photograph the ship hanging in the middle of the lake. Police snipers looked down on them from rooftops of balconies, their rifles ranged to the boat. There was no activity, no signs of life, aboard the vessel.

The live feed of the hostage takers had been gnawing at the Union 24 News board, where the decision as to whether or not to authorise further transmissions was being competitively denounced... though all were interested in seeing the day's ratings at the end of this, secretly.



INTERNAL INTELLIGENCE DIRECTORATE OFFICES, WEST OF THE PARLIAMENT COMPLEX
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Otherwise nameless, a room of dozens of suited men and women filled a videoconference suite to the brim, a live feed of the Emergency Command Office under the Parliament established, and their leader addressing it. He was an officer of the Internal Intelligence Directorate, the man tasked with providing as much information on the hostage takers as possible, with the full resources of their Foreign Intelligence partners and the rest of the Intelligence Corps. Five files had been put together, delivered securely to the EOC, and with the intelligence officer - his name not even sent over the teleconference - began giving an overview of each hostage taker.

"Number one is Bruce Lyman. FID has a fair amount of information here, excellent student, strong academic mind, respected in the nuclear energy field. He does have some military background, served with the Zellatian marine units pre-First Civil War for four years. He left well before the Civil War began. Received a PhD in nuclear science and also took on an undergrad degree in political science. He's been a member of a few Zellatian strategic think tanks, all very well connected to that Government, and he was a member of the nuclear engineering team of the Zellatian department of defence. We believe he made reports to the Zellatian parliament in 2004 regarding nuclear developments, he was quite instrumental in their decision to upgrade their weapons for additional yields. He departed them in 2005 and became affiliated with various pacifistic and peace groups, and he dropped off the map somewhere in Greater Prussia during the Zellatian broken arrow incidents. Clearly, he has returned."

"Dan McKeeson, aka David Mack, is of similar cut, but an absolutely top member of the field. He's a dual Zellatian-New Hayesalian citizen and he's done consultancy work on New Hayesalian power plants as recently as 2013, though it's his involvement with the Zellatian weapons program that fills his CV. He was fired, though, in 2015, because he took part in public protests as part of the pro-technocratic riots. He too dropped off the map, but it's believed he and Lymann met in Greater Prussia somewhere."

"Freida Bartmann is New Hayesalian, from Ceough, and she's been an ongoing part of major and minor peace protests since 2001. She's been involved in a few major public displays, including the Parade Ground protest, the protests and riot at the Paddy O Fernaturian Embassy, public rallies, and she's organised a large number of rallies across major cities. We've never had her as a violent protester, and she's never come across as a threat before, so this is new territory. In fact she's won quite a few poetry competitions across the central provinces. She may have been furnished with information about nuclear cooperation with the Zellatians, or gotten a hold of leaked information, but seeing as even we don't know if we have possession of nuclear weapons we cannot - and will not - confirm what information she would have. Furthermore, we believe she is a paid-up member of the NH Communists party, and we've known more than a few people from their ranks in recent years."

"Jim Seiver is the hard man of the group. He's risked the most skin and he's the one that put the water police constable into a critical condition, and he's the one that's been brave enough to poke his head out for the NHNP's snipers. We have some leads on him connected to a few armed robberies in Cesacor, but we're still working on that one."

"Diane Silverman is the odd one out - absolutely no criminal record, very little information about her except from a police report when someone rear ended her car - in fact the Tax Office is all the main information we have. She's married, two boys aged 8 and 9, registered social worker with an address in Ekalu. We know reporters are trying to track the three of them down, so we've had the National Police take them into protective custody. They aren't under arrest, they're just being held up in a highway patrol station. IID HUMINT personnel are speaking with them and we're getting intel as fast as we can, but we believe she knows Lyman from her university days. No indications yet on how the two remained connected, or what made her join a militant group, but we are searching for that information by any means legal."

"Prime Minister, there's a lot of gaps left. We aren't sure if their threat is real, but it seems to be, and they're clearly very intelligent people. We recommend an immense amount of caution in all negotiations ahead."




NATIONAL POLICE PRESS ANNOUCNEMENT
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It is with the greatest regret that the New Hayesalian National Police must report that Senior Constable Darren UNVOLE has been killed in the line of duty due to injuries sustained when he was shot by the hostage takers oN the boat Iroquois. Senior Constable Unvole was a member of the Parliament Complex Local Area Command, Water Policing Section.

Our thoughts are with the family, friends, and colleagues of this decorated National Police member, who died performing a service to his country.

He will never be forgotten.





"We now return live to James Salerdin aboard the Iroquois, on Lake Neike. James, have the hostage takers been made aware of this development?"

Back aboard the boat, Dr. McKeeson was comforting Diane Silverman, a friendly arm wrapped around the crying woman, heard just over the sound of the suited journalist's handheld microphone.

"Yes Nadiya, we've just seen the news of the police officer's death on the monitor as we've seen everything that's come on over it; you'd have to say the group is reacting very strongly. Perhaps Frieda- uh, Ms. Bartmann..." he moved over, cautious in his actions and word choice, to the woman looking out a slit in the windows.

"Could you give us some sort of statement with regard to the death of the police officer?"

She continued looking out of the window, a light slash of sunshine across her right eye. She took a moment to respond.

"Well there's a lot I could say. But saying never achieves the doing."

Silverman's sobs came through the audio as she paused.

"One man's life is not like all men. And all men dying is a succession of all men dying. I grieve for this one, I grieve for his family, and I say indeed and I mean it - I am sorry asnd I am deeply sorry. But, I am concerned with all men... and does this... distract me from my goal? No, not in the least."

The reporter tried to garner a few more interviews, with Jim Seivers moving away and the others staring him down.

"I think it's fair to say that the hostage takers are affected - they're just not talking."

He signed off, and the Union 24 anchors went into another round of news briefs and interviews.



RePAC - REVNAMI PERFORMING ARTS CENTRE, NORTH REVNAMI

The New Hayesalian Parliament, with it's four constituent parts, could be a nightmare to move around. Since the advent of the nuclear bomb, and even before, the Hayesalian Union had been aware of the need to have alternate staging arrangements for it's lawmaking bodies. There were, as at the moment, only a couple of parliamentarians in the Revnami area. Without the specific requirement or desire to meet in underground or military bunkers - which could accommodate the entire lawmaking apparatus if a military threat large enough existed - the dozen or so Senators and Members were directed by the clerks of their respective Houses to meet at this amateur theatre.

The open topped concert hall was now being occupied by parliamentarians and their staff, as well as auxiliaries from the public service. They were being equipped with information, the National Police having quickly enacted a secret contract held with the venue owners to turn the place into a pseudo-command centre. The press were permitted access to the lobby and outside courtyard, but a cordon had been quickly established by the National Police, Royal Montmarian Guard, and was now being backed by members of the Army, freeing the police officers up to undertake further taskings in the city. A secondary ring of RMG and police officers manned the doors entering the area, adorning itself now with classified information being streamed from the Emergency Command Centre and other sources, keeping the leaders in check.

The bathrooms, however, were still able to be shared by leaders and by media.

Morton Sanders, Chief Political Correspondent, REVNAMI - The makeshift Parliament at the Revnami Performing Arts Centre are hardly the place to uncover stories about stolen radioactive material, but we find leads in the strangest of places. I have been furnished by a reliable source a confidential memo writted by a Senate aide. This memo confirms that altogether nearly 5 and a half kilograms of plutonium were declared missing from the nuclear research centre, ZCNR, in the Vodka Bay region in 2015.

This is an amount, location, and time period keeping in claim with Dr. Dan McKeeson's claim aboard the boat Iroquois about the fuel for their claimed nuclear weapon.

This comes in response to several Government denials that any plutonium was missing, both in the post-war Inquiry into the Second Civil War and statements made today by Government MP Gerardo Wrobel.

While I have received no official response regarding this memorandum, various people who do not wish to be named have been operating under the assumption that this incident has largely been a hoax. They now claim that they are not particularly sure of that being the case, and concern is growing between members of the parliament.




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Postby New Hayesalia » Sun Sep 17, 2017 8:36 am

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CHAPTER 5 | HEAT


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"... And I'll believe the Zellatians lost the stuff, but I'll be damned to believe this rabble could've stolen it." said the first expert, a Groucho-looking character with a smooth talking voice. His doubts about the hostage-takers capacity were being rabidly watched by a billion New Hayesalians.

"Yes, Dr. Hansen, but on the other hand some of these men are intelligent atomic scientists with an up-to-date understanding of the world of plutonium, and this, I cannot say," the man took a moment for a word, deferring from his native Dutch. "It cannot be a good sign."

"Gentlemen we do have to wrap up shortly as we have news soon to come from the Prime Minister's Office," Nadiya interrupted, expertly. "What are your thoughts on the demand for the detonator modules?"

"I don't believe this bomb is real, and that we are seeing a bluff." the first doctor, Hansen, began." You mean to tell me a bunch of hippies discover 5 odd kilos of plutonium missing and he says he stole them. New Hayesalia's Government hasn't even confirmed it has nuclear devices, and I don't think they do. We can't authorise some sort of demand to be paid."

"Well, he's playing card games with the life of a whole city. I think these scientists, who I have met, are capable of it, that is - building a bomb. Yes. It is a strange day for Revnami."

The anchors thanked the men for their time, and quickly directed to a live broadcast at the Revnami Hilton. The MP, who clearly portrayed less interest in being the face of the Government - and his party - had been given commands from the New Hayesalian Prime Minister, who was working underground to deal with Revnami's evacuation, direct spymasters around the world, and confer with nuclear and civil defence experts, to make a grim sort of announcement.

Wrobel stood again behind the lectern, with a prepared speech on paper, and went immediately to address the room of clicking shutters and camera LEDs.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Prime Minister has asked me to make an announcement. There will not be any questions."

The room hit into a furore, which the MP ignored, swallowing into a dry mouth.

"To our knowledge, I want to be clear, to OUR knowledge, there is no evidence that the threat in Revnami has any substance, whatsoever. It is a cruel and an irresponsible offence to the citizens of Revnami, the Capital Province, and of New Hayesalia. In order, in the interest of public safety, to ensure order... and calm... the Prime Minister and the Revnami National Capital City Council have upgraded the voluntary evacuation of the Revnami CBD, Parliament Complex, and other aforementioned sites to a mandatory evacuation."

The crowd of press rose again, clamouring with questions.

"We are taking this step..." the clamouring continued. "He is TAKING THIS STEP," Wrobel yelled, stonefaced, to overcome the press. "To assure the people of Revnami that everything possible is being done." The press began again, making Wrobel's statements hardly audible. "The National Police, the Revnami Fire and Rescue Services, and the New Hayesalian Military will be employed to ensure that process is undertaken as according to the Emergency Management Act and council bylaws. This situation can be resolved, thank you."

Wrobel was very quick to leave the stage.

BRAY STREET, REVNAMI CBD

In the back of a MAN HX truck, just a part of the full force of what New Hayesalia's Military could wrangle to the evacuation was coming into town. The small convoy had been loaded with cadets from the National Military Academy, located a few kilometres south-west of the Parliament, where the cadets there had been placed into small platoons under the direction of staff as wide-ranging as the chefs and the PT instructors to the Academy's vice-commandant. The ten men teams, made of 9 cadets and the staff member, wore a menagerie of different coloured service uniforms, thought heir Wraith fatigues and heavy boots could add an air of authority to anyone. These cadets, most no older than 22, were now being led to knock on doors - some would climb down the fire escapes of 100 story buildings, enforcing the mandatory evacuation order and then getting themselves out of the area and further north as soon as they'd confirmed no unauthorised persons remained in the zones.

In Revnami's main street, the few cars with city driving authorisation had been directed into parking bays by the National Police. Unlike some international metropolises, like Liberty City for example, cars did not choke the streets. Rather, bicycles and public transit was the average man's way around the city, with the cost of registration having purposefully been made excessive and with legislated requirements for cars to have authorisations to drive in New Hayesalia's densest urban areas. This urban planning had been fortuitous, because other than the black uniforms of police, the tan, green and greys of the Military, and the various other uniformed members of the Emergency Services, the city seemed largely dead. It would be clear to anyone, by virtue of the city's public alert, push notifications, and media reporting that Revnami was off-limits for now - in a decision that would likely cost New Hayesalia at least a few billion NS Dollars.

Looting was unlikely to be a problem. The Police riot squad had been kept on duty in the city's north, with the city's CCTV networks hawkishly watching the streets, the cop's big G-Wagon SUVs ready to pounce and aggressively arrest anyone trying to make a profit from the situation. The New Hayesalian Red Cross had also activated, and much like the riot squad, they would soothe tensions in the city's evacuation zones - though by peace and support, not the long arm of the law.

Not everyone would play nice. There were, nationally, dozens of nuclear threats been called in - though all were hoaxes. All were responded to by a re-directed Criminal Investigations Branch, and often by the Emergency Response and Rescue Teams of the local police area commands - more than a few pranksters and dullards would spend a few days in blank prisons cells, after having found out what it was like for submachine gun wielding police to burst through one's front door.

The evacuation was going ahead on an extraordinary day.



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Postby New Hayesalia » Sun Oct 01, 2017 10:48 am

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CHAPTER 6 | MISSILES


"A gunfight on the lake. The Parliament, cleared. Within hours the Military is mobilised and a city is evacuated, and our national capital becomes a global media capital."

JFB DECHAINEUX, DELPER, NORTHERN PILTOMANA

New Hayesalia's Military was spread over dozens of bases of all varieties across the nation, from the small G-SAMS air defence stations that dotted the nation's islands and countrysides to the 'super-base' that housed the Ready Response Group in Quepasa. Airplanes, ships, and soldiers alike painted them in a moving tan-green, but Dechaineux was different. A very-high security joint forces base on the north end of the Piltomanan island, the spit had one very well-guarded road in, and the same road out. The men and women employed here weren't ground pounder infantry, but the specially trained Airfield Defence Guards could probably beat most of them in a fight.

Oestensibly, JFB Dechaineux was a training area for the Navy's Clearance Divers, the home of their fearsome 'Frogman's Track.' That multi-day endurance event took the Navy's newest frogmen from tricky and tiring riverine duties, then onto a 150 kilometre march from Piltomana's Lake Athundight to the coast, where they would then change again and conduct a raid on a target facility on Dechaineux - facing off against the aforementioned Air Force guards. Dechaineux featured a variety of services. A small port and a small military airfield permitted transit and the odd exercise, as well as a weapons testing facility for the Navy and Marines, but nothing too 'out there.'

This excluded a locked-down set of warehouses on the inner edge of the facility, run by the NH Air Force. Members of the service whom had anything to do with this facility were required to hold the Air Force's top security classification, with positive vetting, from the ginger-faced Aircraftsman manning the guard post with rifle in hand to the facility manager, a Reeve. Inside the few locked-down facilities were a total of 350 air to air missiles. Their names - the AIM-2L Genie. It was a regularly updated version of the original 1960s concept, developed under the auspices of a joint design project with Paddy O Fernature and United North West Canada. The Air Force had always kept the means to produce these missiles - but knowledge of their warehousing, missile testing, and availability for use on the Greater Island Kingdom's interceptor fleets was a grand national secret.

As of now, the hundreds of nuclear-tipped air to air missiles had become a public conspiracy. That, and the Swordbreaker nuclear torpedoes - also real. New Hayesalia had denied the ownership of any nuclear weapons, but the fact that they had them was a very peculiar matter. New Hayesalia lacked a nuclear deterrent. No ICBMs, no submarine launched nukes, no fleets of bombers to smash cities off the map. Swordbreaker and Genie solved the same problem on sea and air - defending New Hayesalia's islands from the superships and superbombers possessed by other nations, and presenting a viable defence to them when few other opportunities were available. They were a last line of tactical -but not strategic - defence.

The entire certified staff of the warehouses had been sent in to the facility, called in even if they were on leave or at the Base Medical Post. Inside, they were frantically but safely dismembering the missiles, withdrawing their detonating modules as their Navy colleagues at another secret base would be. The detonator modules were being eagerly packaged under the watchful eye of the Airfield Defence Guards, as well as the entire training cadre of the Navy's Clearance Divers - who did not know what the large mil-spec containers carried. From another air force base, a flight of C-17s had been made available to fly into Dechaineux, their crews ordered to arrive with arms and ready to carry 20-odd crates apiece.

Just in case, like everything else this damn day.




ABOARD IROQUOIS

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James Salerdin was on the screen, jacket long ago taken off on the humid and cramped little boat and sweat clearly lining the undersides of his shirt. He'd been discussing with McKeeson, the amateur philosopher, over whether the news media had been right to give them a lifeline to reach the public. One that they still granted to the crew of the boat, stricken with sadness and - quietly, concern - after the death of the police officer. Salerdin himself remained cool and collected, even as he was accused of being nothing but a show business extraordinaire with an agent to boot. It had been a verbal wrestling match to finally get the shaggy-haired physicist to comment on the ongoing events, now quite some hours since it had begun.

The two men, with a live feed being sent to the production offices of Union 24, came to blows with McKeeson delivering the first push out of desperation. It wasn't long, over the yelling and the tussling, before the other hostage takers swooped in, holding the men separate. Not being broadcast to the public, the Union 24 team - and the New Hayesalian National Police watching the continual live feed with reports - knew they had footage to show if they ever needed to prove McKeeson's turbulent behaviour.

Lyman was the one who stepped in, a quiet word in the man's ear. Sullenly, he returned to his nuke on the lower deck. Stress was building, as the afternoon sun began to lower in the sky.




ABOVE LAKE NEIKE

The little helicopter, an OH-38 Vanguard, was on a very different mission. Possessing a black fuselage and a yellow engine cowling, and draped with the castle tower emblem of the Royal Montmarian Guard, the camera-adorned helicopter was clearly one of the good guy's. Within it sat it's two pilots, and to the rear, photographic experts, carrying large DSLRs to support the twisting FLIR camera under the helicopter's nose.

From Air Force Station (AFS) North Revnami it's transit to the Lake had seen it trail at a relatively leisurely pace down the Neike River, which dilated frequently between wide and narrow passages. It fluttered over bridges and urban lift lines, the quietened rotors not garnering much particular attention. It had been sent to grab photos from above at a high resolution, the FLIR camera being used to pick up heat signals, growing a picture of the construction and weak spots of the boat. Navy Clearance Divers would do the same, though the fresh and clear waters of Neike certainly presented an issue for external observations.

The helicopter set into it's first orbit, going wide around the boat and pulling back across, cameras shuttering across the vessel and capturing minute details. Shell casings on the deck, a spatter of blood, the drops of black paint on the canvas signs on the deck, all extremely visible to the extended lenses.

Atop the vessel, a hatch opened. From it came the unmasked face of Jim Seiver, the armed robber without a real cause, the silent vigilant of the terrorists. He was clearly no fan of the RMG. Without warning, his AK-74 came above deck, held sideways in his arms as he let loose a burst of easily fifteen rounds at the RMG chopper. His cries within the boat - "It's going down! It's going down!" - were clearly heard by the Union 24 producers, though the emergence and firing from the porthole had taken the stressed criminal but seconds.

The helicopter's pilot, trained by the Army and experienced under fire, pulled the collective to the ceiling and pulled a remarkably hard left, showing only the underside of the chopper to the gunman. He dropped altitude as he did so, a wall of watery mist kicking up as the nimble helicopter raised to the sky and away, flying over the Military Headquarters in escape. A pockmarking of 12 bullet holes would be found in the chopper, with some landing where the camera operator was stood not seconds before. A charge of attempted murder was quickly added to the man's rap sheet. His head was ducked back underneath as soon as it had appeared, the selection of snipers around Revnami not given permission to fire in response as part of their ROE.

Inside, Seiver's compatriots pulled him down, one of the women screaming, the men yelling for him to stop. Lyman approached him, the video showed, McKeeson following. Jim did not take kindly to being surrounded, raising the Kalashnikov sub machine gun to the man's face. He ducked away, hands raised, as McKeeson tried to push it back down. He looked frantic - out of his depth. His crazed eyes locked onto the camera on the tripod, and he threw down the gun in a corner. He followed in, crouching and slumping against a bulkhead, putting his hands in his face and crying into them. It would be broadcast on Union 24/10 - the Revnami local news, but not the main national news channel. This way, the hostage takers would not know their moments of weakness were being broadcast for millions to see, most certainly including the internet's masses.

Diane Silverman, similarly, had been on the phone to her husband. The National Police had sent for delivery a mobile phone, about an hour after the helicopter incident, held in a box on a drone. It had dropped right through the shooter's hatch. The mobile phone would only call the police negotiator, who provided the hookup to Silverman's husband - the phone was, of course, a bug that would send all communications right to the Police Operations Centre.

"Yes, the kids have seen it! They've been watching, watching everything! They're watching now!"

Call it propaganda - but the entire conversation was being broadcast on Union 24/10 as well. Showing how Silverman's resolve was weakening, that she was just a normal woman far out of her depth - New Hayesalia did not know whether to feel shame, anger, sadness, or whatever else it was. They just wanted that damn boat to be gone.

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Postby New Hayesalia » Sun Nov 12, 2017 6:22 am

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To Field Marshal Eli Knight,
Chief of Military
15 August, 2017



Dear Eli,


With regard to the ongoing Lake Neike Incident, I am instructing you to command the Military forces in command of the limited nuclear forces to pack the requested detonating modules into sealed containers and move them to a secure staging area at Air Force Station North Revnami. I furthermore order that you transport a riverine patrol craft of the Navy, disarmed, that can be made available to ferry the modules to Lake Neike from an upriver position.

I am furthermore ordering you to ready the CBRN Response Unit and the relevant BASTION teams, and deploy them to the Parliament Complex. I furthermore order you to develop an operational plan to neutralise the terrorists aboard the vessel and destroy the nuclear device located aboard that vessel.

I am authorising all resources and full operational command as you require to ensure that, upon my order, that this situation can be countered. Please inform me when the orders above have been fulfilled, as a matter of urgency.


Daniel Hayes, MP, ONH
Prime Minister of New Hayesalia


The Greater Island Kingdom of New Hayesalia
Amalgamated July 21, 2009

This is an official message of the New Hayesalian Government. This message
may be disseminated in accordance with the security classification noted above.




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Postby New Hayesalia » Fri Dec 08, 2017 6:05 am

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CHAPTER 7 | ACCESSION


AIR FORCE STATION NORTH REVNAMI

The roar of over-clocking jet engines closed off as a flight of two C-17 Globemaster IIIs powered down on the runway at North Revnami. A copious presence of Airfield Defence Guards, armed to the teeth and equipped with armoured vehicles to protect the arriving jets, was well warranted. The two jets carried New Hayesalia's entire stockpile of nuclear detonator modules, a total of 386, packed neatly into 10 foot container units. Each unit was quickly loaded onto the back of Army MAN trucks, their applique armour noticeably applied. The Army, Royal Montmarian Guard, and Police had quickly assembled a long convoy of more than 50 vehicles with the armaments to match. Military Police, signalled by the red patched 'MP' lettering on their shoulder sleeves, looked out for even the most unlikely threats - not that the Revnami metropolis would present a particular one.

The convoy quickly got underway, with a squad of civilian and military police leading the way on their motorcycles. Patrol cars and Pseudonaja PMVs of the Military also followed, loaded with armed officers and troops,with the armoured MAN trucks interspersed in the long convoy. They would take the highways as they closed, clearing it of traffic via rolling stops as they progressed into the city. The trucks had been routed to an assembly area in the Parliament Complex courtyards, and the soldiers within - drawn from the Army's logistics battalions - had specially volunteered for this task. If the boat detonated, they would likely be turned to ashes, vapour, and radioactive shadows of their presence.

The trucks, totalling thirteen, rolled up to the assembly area. The containers remained unopened, their contents a secret to any watching live stream cameras - of which there were some, viewing the goings-on - as a letter was sent to the Iroquois and the nation.



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An open letter,
To all it may concern.
15th of August, 2017



To whom it may concern,


The Cabinet of New Hayesalia have been in secure communications during the entirety of this crisis. Due to the unique and exceptionally threatening presence of a nuclear 'dirty bomb,' I have decided that accession to the demands of the individuals aboard the boat Iroquois is necessary for New Hayesalia's national security.

The demands of the persons aboard this boat have been securely negotiated via the New Hayesalian National Police.

I can confirm that New Hayesalia has, for some time, operated a very small number of tactical nuclear weapons, which have been placed in inactive warehouses in an extremely secure environment. These weapons have included thirty-six 10 kiloton 'Swordbreaker' torpedoes, used to counter any potential threat of enemy 'super-capital ships' such as the Lyran Longsword Class.

It has also included three hundred 'Genie' air to air missiles, which were indeed built with a counter-nuclear mindset. They have been designed to, as a last resort option, destroy enemy stealth bombers; if such bombers had the intention of deploying a nuclear missile against New Hayesalia or our allies, the use of the Genie platform would serve as an area effect weapon to destroy this threat.

In the case of the air to air missiles, the explosive component of the missile, the warhead, has the capacity to be mounted on a Heaven's Gate class launch platform, which is used by New Hayesalia's civil space authority for launching spacecraft and satellites. This missile lacks a ballistic missile capability, and the intent of this setup is to give New Hayesalia a counter-asteroid capability which would protect our nation from the thread of a meteor strike from space. This is, in fact, the primary reason for maintaining our small nuclear capability.

The revelation of these state secrets has been personally authorised by myself as the Prime Minister. I believe that the maintenance of this arsenal is important to New Hayesalia's security; however, faced with the threat of a nuclear attack against New Hayesalian civilians and the unauthorised disclosure of this information from the persons aboard this vessel, maintaining this force is no longer valid. I can confirm that New Hayesalia's nuclear weapons have been rendered inert due to the removal of the detonator modules.

I will be providing further public information regarding this event when it has concluded.


Daniel Hayes, MP, ONH
Prime Minister of New Hayesalia


The Greater Island Kingdom of New Hayesalia
Amalgamated July 21, 2009

This is an official message of the New Hayesalian Government. This message
may be disseminated in accordance with the security classification noted above.







THE IROQUOIS, LAKE NEIKE

Less than 15 minutes to go before the hostage takers would have considered detonating their bomb, killing themselves and all around them. Speaking to the lead National Police negotiators had confirmed the best - the New Hayesalians had surrendered their arms! The detonating modules, every one that Bruce Lymann had called for, were soon to be delivered from those olive drab containers near the Parliament. Unlike other nations, clearly, the New Hayesalians had decided to negotiate with terrorists. With their reporter filming, and the footage streaming live to Union broadcasting, the terrorists were jubilant.

"Yes... yes. Excellent!" spoke Bruce Lymann into his mobile, speaking with the negotiator. "Once they're aboard you will allow us back to sea? Good. Our demands still apply, we expect to be able to disable them without your interference."

The negotiator continued, outlining the process that would take place from here. A member of the New Hayesalian Army would be sent with the modules. His duty was a simple one. He would have the hostage takers sign forms to acknowledge their receipt of the modules, he would unlock the boxes themselves, and then he would quickly leave the boat. A camera mounted to his life preserver would livestream this to the Prime Minister, a condition agreed to by Lymann. This was a sensitive time, and they didn't want to threaten their big win over the Government.

A barge, with National Police water officers on the controls, were bringing over the first of the boxes now. Not all of the 13 trucks had actually carried the modules, as they'd been told. Some were only decoys, and they were told that the boxes that would be delivered - smaller ones, taken from within the standardised containers, contained all of the necessary modules. The Iroquois forward deck had been cleared of the usual furniture and fishing vessels. Other than their own nuke, it was empty, and there would be room for the modules. Nine boxes, also in OD green, carried the parts. The trundling barge made a slow progress, the unarmed police officers and soldiers hearts beating. Certainly, not as much as the terrorists.

"We'll have to see that damn barge before we start singing hosannah!" Lymann told his fellows, who had been cheering as he ended the call. "Jim, go onto the bridge and wait for them to come up!"

Seiver, the hard man, quickly rushed to it, his weapon slung on his back, nonthreatening. He would assist the docking - once the ramp was laid out to get the boxes from barge to boat, it would take four people to lift them aboard, and getting them down the stairs would similarly be an exhausting job. This was, of course, no concern to the New Hayesalians. Following Seiver was Bartmann, Silverman, and McKeeson, the other ringleader.

Some thought that, regardless of the detonators, they had one. Freida believed so - she said as such to the soldier, almost to herself, saying they had put their case to the New Hayesalian people and it was enough. The soldier cared little for her passion.

The transfer was smooth. One box went in, and was stowed below deck. Then another. And then, yet another. By box number nine, sweat poured from the faces of the terrorists. The progress of the boxes was captured by the journalist. Terse instructions from the soldier to go back upstairs were not quickly heeded.

Then the soldier winked. Just at him. With some faux protest, the journalist returned to the upper cabin. His live coverage continued, beamed as breaking news to the entire nation.

Upstairs, with the final box arriving, Lymann was ecstatic.

"WE DID IT JAMES, WE DID IT!" he exclaimed, jumping and running around the cabin. "WE DID IT, WE DID IT FOR GOD'S SAKE! WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY TO THAT JAMES!"

"Bruce, Bruce, what do you say to New Hayesalians who disagree with your tactics?" Salerdin quickly asked.

"I never wanted to explode this damn boat! Mac we did it!"

"Bruce, do you think people will accept your tactics?"

"Oh, oh, James, the suffering in the world, the world is too dangerous they'll accept it James, I know, I know they will! God, thank God!"

James looked across to the other one, Dr. McKeeson, who took a step up deck. He said little to Jame's question of the same nature.

James sat with his camera, filming the boat's crew as they watched the coverage about themselves in jubilation. The contents of the boxes had been observed by the Doctors, who had signed the forms and removed the locks. The barbed wire that had previously covered the vessel's aft had been removed and left aside, the terrorists so eager to get underway. It seemed all that the modules had been accounted for, as the barge left the boat.

Seemed.

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Postby New Hayesalia » Sun Apr 01, 2018 5:06 am

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CHAPTER 8 | STRIKE


THE IROQUOIS, LAKE NEIKE

The chugging of an engine echoed within the vessel as it directed itself back to the Pilt Sea to defuse the received modules. Helicopters, maintaining a high altitude, tracked a gradual progression of the ship out of the Lake. As it righted itself, facing the southern exit of this part of the lake under the Go-between Bridge, the helicopters made a swift turn to move over land, as police boats also retracted, ostensibly to clear the way for them and to provide room for a possible survival if the device was to explode. It was an appearance of fear, and of respect. It was a feint.

A joint assault took place on the command word "Vigor" over the radio network. On the Go-Between bridge, four police BearCat armoured vehicles revealed from their turrets powerful LRAD systems. These Long Range Acoustic Devices played a loud, intolerable screeching sound, and directed at the vessel the noise would be simply unbearable without hearing protection. Roaring just shy of the speed of sound, a New Hayesalian Air Force CE-32 Cuervo roared onto the scene at a remarkably low altitude. As the screech of the LRAD distracted the vessel's crew, the electronic fighter deployed a jamming strike against the vessel. Located on the middle of the lake, it was able to somewhat reduce the impact of the jamming strike; mobile phone reception in Revnami would probably need some repairs in the coming hours, as would some other sensitive receivers. The vessel was, however, dead in the water, the television and electronics within fried.

At the sound of the command, before their radios were also sizzled, four very short members of BASTION - New Hayesalia's penultimate special forces unit - revealed themselves. In the havoc above decks, McKeeson tried to rush downstairs. He met his fate with a smattering of 9mm bullets fired by an operator's Model 15 personal defence weapon. The four BASTION operators moved quickly, their suppressed rounds not having tripped the upstairs crew. Fast, accurate fire painted the cabin red - able to expertly spot and avoid the two hostages, largely uninjured except for shrapnelling and a grazing shot, BASTION had eliminated the four terrorists remaining. The vaunted scientist Lyman slumped lifelessly on a couch without having had the chance to grab a weapon. Jim Seivers had tried to fight back, but was shot as he turned to engage the four. Bartmann had tried to take her weapon and dodge into cover, but had instead moved into the laser sight of an operator, and Dianne Silverman, untrained and unready, met her unwilling end on her feet. She crumpled, never having really known what had happened.

The BASTION operators split to their next tasks immediately. Two smashed their way through the cabin door, one throwing a sea flare with blue smoke into the Lake - all baddies E-KIA. Another moved to inspect the nuclear device, and the forth ensured all the KIA's were really so before medically assessing the injuries of the journalist. As they did, a two helicopters moved onto the scene. From the Army's Special Aviation Force, a Caracal utility helicopter threw a fast rope onto the small rear deck. Four additional masked operators from the Army's CBRN Response Unit slid onto the deck and immediately proceeded below decks. On the deck, the four BASTION operators - the first to be seen on news cameras in live operations, if from a distance, assumed positions at four places on the ship's deck. They set about removing the barbed wire fortifications, placing it back in the cabin and out of the way. Having done so, a Goldfish RHIB containing Navy Clearance Divers approached. Dressed in their wetsuits and with rebreathers, the team of eight sailors carried a heavy duty cargo net. They dropped in the water, dragging the net under the vessel and holding the connecting parts up to the deck. Grabbed by the BASTION operators, they were connected with an interface laid above the wheelhouse.

Overhead roared a twin-bladed Chinook helicopter, a loadmaster leaning from the side door and providing instructions to the pilot on his approach and descent. A line dropped from the aircraft's central part, connecting to the cargo net. In the space of just a minute and thirteen seconds, the five terrorists had been eliminated, nuclear experts had been embarked, and a cargo net had been connected to the underside of the mighty Chinook. In just another ten seconds the connection was confirmed, and the helicopter lifted the heavy boat from the water.

The flight over Revnami was, needless to say, horrifying. A quickly assembled police mission and texts and other alerts warning residents on the pathway to seek shelter. The boat rocked under the weight of the helicopter, and inside, the CBRN Response team struggled to analyse the bomb. It was a complex design for a dirty bomb, and whilst in the air the team could do little but observe it. McKeeson's body, still in the bottom of the boat, flopped pathetically down the stairs.

After a tense twelve minute ride, the Chinook gently laid the vessel back down, dropping the fast line and recovering the four BASTION operators and hostage - who would have quite the story to tell. The vessel was resting on a sand bank just outside Kel Kurran Island, a private island whose inhabitants - including a famous singer - had been rapidly and unhappily evacuated by the Special Aviation Force. Left aboard were the incredibly brave - four Response Unit operators, tasked to disable the bomb. Having searched the bodies of the hostage takers and the vessel itself, a number of routes had been ruled out. Accessing the bomb proper was the major challenge, and the solution was fleeting. With no easy-accessed timers, the pressure was truly on to take down this national threat.
Last edited by New Hayesalia on Sun Apr 01, 2018 5:08 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Postby New Hayesalia » Fri Jul 13, 2018 12:34 pm

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CHAPTER 9 | SWEAT


THE IROQUOIS, KEL KURRAN ISLAND

Twelve miles from Revnami, Kel Kurran Island was one of millions like it across New Hayesalia. It's tropical feel was enhanced by swaying palms and bursting waves. It was no great palace of the rich, though, as storm surges had a habit of turning the sandy beach into a swamp at regular enough intervals to make the place more of an affordable status symbol, especially compared to the much nicer islands available much closer to the shores of Revnami. Besides, only public servants and professors lived in Revnami, as the sterotype was. Not the sort of people with a mind towards buying a private island, much less the funds, leaving it to members of the aspirational class and cheapskate celebrities. Regardless, it had been swept clear, and zones downwind of the potential blast zone were being provided emergency alerts as emergency reponders went door to door, ordering people to shelter in place or evacuate at once. The 17th Fleet, and it's Avarne class patrol boats, had been eager to clear the area of recreational and commercial shipping, further clearing the area. Even a small convoy of naval recruit training boats had been called in to assist.

This surge of efforts and resources was irrelevant to the men grabbing hold of bulkheads as the Iroquois was deposited onto a sand dune, expertly placed by the special forces piloted so as to lean only slightly to the starboard side, stopping the vessel and it's nuclear contents from rolling over. Aboard were the four CBRN Response Unit members, who went straight to work based on the conversations they'd had over the roar of Chinook engines during their transit. They would, for 75 years, remain nameless - secret soldiers of the New Hayesalian Army. For now, nicknames and first names were enough to communicate amongst themselves.

Fingerless gloves pried a control hatch from the weapon. The device increased the volume of crackling geiger counters, but a bit of radiological exposure was no penalty to the CBRN Response Unit hellbent on stopping this thing from exploding. Wires and complex controls seemed to burst at the seams, the weapon clearly made by an expert. There had been the threat that simply moving the device would cause detonation, or indeed if it's master had been killed. This seemed not to be the case, as his lifeless body had proven. An operator made quick time to search the terrorists, stripping them where necessary to investigate every possible pocket for a detonator or similar device. He, and a fellow, would follow up by searching the boat from top to bottom.

With a headtorch assisting, the other operators analysed the device before them. A 1st Lieutenant Ben Kane was in command of this detachment. The device was not a true nuclear bomb - it was instead a combination of particularly high grade radiological materials sourced from Zellatia, with a conventional explosive able to propel the material well into the air. The 12 mile buffer zone that had been established was likely enough to prevent the damage that would have occurred on Lake Neike, but it was still a very undesirable outcome.

The team set to work as the search for any detonator devices or similar was played out. Separation of the radiological materials from the explosive component would likely be enough to disable the device, but the challenge was in prevention of detonation before that was done. An errant static charge, a loose wire, or an operator error were all possibilities for failure in this science.

Stripping their helmets and balaclavas, the trio of soldiers continued to analyse the device seeking it's payloads. No clear patterns were emerging as to the device's construction, even as the unknown timer clocked down.

In the cabin, the search was ongoing, unable to find intelligence relevant to the bomb below. Blood dripped from the upper deck to the lower, a groove in the wall and floor providing a channel. Loud drips were overpowered by the chatter of nuclear experts.




PRIME MINISTER'S OFFICE, PARLIAMENT COMPLEX

The immediate emergency contained, the Prime Minister had been eager to depart the underground command centre for his high rise office suite, itself equipped with a smaller but quite capable command facility. Checking the fit of his suit and hair in the elevator mirror - the unending need of a politician to avoid any fashion faux pas - Prime Minister Hayes found his office largely abandoned. While armed police and Royal Montmarian Guardsmen maintained security in the area, risking life and limb to do so, his civilian office staff had been part of the evacuation north. He retained, however, his immediate staff who had travelled underground alongside him.

"Patrick," the Prime Minister said, calling one of his personal protective detail to order after a semi-meditative moment of silence in the elevator. "I want you to send a car, a helicopter, whatever you can wrangle, to get a news crew to the Press Hall. I want to brief as many as possible, as soon as possible."

"Yes sir, we'll restask what we can." the Guards Major responded, making a call into his Falcon radio set.

"Tet," the PM continued, referring to his Press Secretary Petunia Chafee, "I need you to draft a briefing that we will be maintaining our current nuclear stockpile. The social media chatter we've been seeing is largely in support of keeping a limited nuclear kit, but I don't think people will support us if we don't make it 100% clear what they're for. Bolt might have fucked up a lot of things, but since the Invincible incident I've been pretty damn convinced that we need a supership killer. Don't print that, focus on the anti-asteroid side of things, and stress we can't use the things for offensive ops."

Hayes was referring to a sail-past from one of those small regimes with too much money that had come to acquire a Longsword class super-ship.

"Right, I'll get to it." replied the older, brunette lady, who moved to her office with the determination of a soldier going to a battlefield.

The entourage rounded the corner where a pair of Netforce technicians, dressed in the plain-grey combat fatigues of the service, were finalising the connection for the command centre. They snapped to and saluted the senior officers. Returned by the Prime Minister smartly, they continued their work and left quickly as the lines of communication were open. It had been no more than 2 minutes since leaving the downstairs facility.

"Any changes?" the PM asked, as he pulled a notepad from his pocket.

"None yet, sir. CBRNRU are still neutralising the threat. We should have a live feed coming through -"

As Lyftward Adam Burnett, the Chief of Joint Operations, announced this a live feed from a MOHOC camera mounted on the helmet of a CBRN-RU operator, fingers and tool deep inside the device. There was no two-way chat, as the specialists did not need chatter from the dozens of military and emergency professionals watching them live.

"Good, good. The team is currently attempting to separate the radiological element from the explosive device. They've identified the links to one of the control systems-"

"One of, Lyftward?" came the response from the Prime Minister.

"It's a remarkably complex device. We took a risk with the assault, as we weren't sure if any of the terrorists had a dead man's switch or if moving the device could set it off, as you well know. It might be a failure in the device, might have been an empty threat, but we know for certain that this thing is still live and still very real."

The team were clearly beginning to seperate a part of the device from itself. They'd pried off some of the outer casing to get to it, revealing a shielded cylinder. The explosive type had been partially tested on site - anything too hot and fiery was liable to destroy some of the radiological components, lessening effectiveness. The assembled watched the 1st Lieutenant make delicate and exacting cuts of wires and circuitry, before the final moment of it all.

He lifted the cylinder.

It came loose. And he was free.

With that, the team knew what they had to do. Without stopping to take the equipment they'd carried aboard including their armour and guns, the team of four sprinted from the boat. The stress not over, the Lyftward made a call for a new asset having confirmed the radiological material had been separated. The explosive itself was still very much present, necessitating the Army's quick escape, the 1st Lieutenant holding the cylinder unnervingly close to himself. Jumping from the boat and rolling in the sand, the camera showed a medevac helicopter touching down some 100 metres away, with the four eagerly clambering aboard and taking off. Imagery from the helicopter's forward mounted electro-optical display showed the boat unmoving as the chopper made long orbits.

The CBRN Response Unit members were patched in to report.

"The package is still live but it isn't a nuclear threat," he said, eliciting cheers from the crowd. "You're gonna need to send specialist EOD to defuse that fucking thing. We found a bunch of sensors, including a timer and a radio receiver. Not sure if our EMP jamming on the Lake disabled some sort of remote detonation capacity. There was no display on the timer so - "

A pair of explosions blasted apart the Iroquois, mere moments after the helicopter liftoff. It was no normal explosion - the first blew the top of the ship apart. It seemed almost shaped to go vertical, as evidenced by chunks of a human body ascending dozens of metres in the air. But it seemed upon reaching it's high point, the second blast occurred. Playback would show the lower hull of the vessel had been lined with protective layers of shielding, with metal shrapnel lining the side. What was guessed to be a 2000 lb bomb detonated, sending flechettes soaring 360 degrees around. It would have obviously slaughtered any attempt to board the vessel, never mind the impact of the bomb. The concussive effect ripped what little remained of the boat to shreds, and - if it would have still been there - would have propelled the radiological materials even higher in the sky. It was a two-punch solution designed for maximal distribution, and without the expertise of the New Hayesalian Military it would have effectively blanketed the Revnami CBD with a nuclear cloud. A crater and fire was all that remained of the vessel. An Army unit would quickly be dispatched in full protective gear to ensure the island was safe for repopulating and to commence clean up.

In the nick of time, the crisis was completed.


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