Těnov
Kosari District
2003
The dying and bucking car engine sputtered as the battered sedan slowed down and stopped on the crumbling sidewalk that ran parallel to the street. With a final whine the engine died, as Zvonimir turned the key and withdrew it from the ignition. He let both his arms fall by his side. “Alright, we’re here.”
He looked to the passenger seat what Lev was sitting, then behind him where Alan and Radovan were sitting. “Let’s make this clear,” Zvonimir said firmly, “We’re going to talk, get the deal done, and then we’re outta here. 10, 15 minutes top - understand?”
The other three passengers nodded in agreement. “I don’t want to fuck around with this anymore than anyone else, so no funny business.” His eyes settled on Radovan, the youngest member of his crew. He appeared to take offense to that. “The fuck you looking at me for?” He asked defensively. Zvonimir jabbed a finger towards him. “Because the last thing I need is your punk ass fucking with this deal.”
“I’m not gonna-” Radovan began before the leader cut him off.
“Damn right you’re not, because we’re going to be fine. Now everyone get out and get your shit.” With that, all four members opened the doors of the sedan and moved to the trunk. Lev popped it open to reveal multiple firearms. They retrieved their automatic rifles and slung them at their side or over their shoulders, clipping magazines to their belt pouches or into their pockets. “Are we expecting trouble?” Alan asked as they slapped magazines in and checked safeties.
“No, but they might need reminding we’re not there to fuck around. You got the key?” Zvonimir asked Lev, who dangled a single key in his hand; which belonged to a storage site a few miles away, where hundreds of rifles, handguns, and tens of thousands of rounds of ammunition were stockpiled. They had gone over the basic plan a dozen times; get there, show their buyers the key, make sure the money was good, complete the exchange, and get out before anyone else showed up.
The four men made their way down a series of back alleys to where the agreed meet up site was, outside a closed kiosk that sold noodles and pork, if the sign was to be believed. Apart from some nearby single story buildings, the street was empty. The streetlights in the distance offered only a faint gloom to illuminate the surrounding area. In the darkness of the night none of the men could make out each other’s facial features, and their expressions remained none only to them. Radovan’s constant glancing around was the only indication of expression from the crew as they rounded corners and walked down the alley.
“Quit your shit Radovan, you’re making me nervous.” Alan said.
“I’m just checking the corners, man. You can never tell with these Muslim types.”
“Why do they want all this shit anyways?” Lev asked.
“Who fucking cares?” Was Zvonimir’s predictable response. “If their money’s good, then the can do whatever they fucking please. Let’s just get this over with.”
The barely visible outlines of six men stood near the kiosk. In the disant illumination, none of the specifics of their features could be made out, but slung rifles and shotguns were clearly visible on most of them. Radovan reflexively stiffened and nearly reached for his sling before Alan hissed at him to stay still. The four gun runners stopped 5 meters from the foremost of the other men. Zvonimir took charge and stepped forward. “Senad?”
The evident leader of the men stepped forward as well. “Marko?”
“That’s me.” Zvonimir lied. “You got the money?”
“Yes, but we want to see the weapons first.” ‘Senad’ said.
Zvonimir grimaced. “That wasn’t the deal we worked out.”
“We’re not handing over the cash until we see the weapons.” ‘Senad’ insisted.
“If you wanted to see the weapons first, your boss Nusret should’ve worked that out prior. Either give us the money now, or we’re walking away.” Zvonimir said firmly.
‘Senad’ glanced over his shoulder to one of the men who was clearly armed. There was an almost imperceptible nod. Radovan saw the nod and stiffened. His hand reached slowly for his rifle. He could feel something crawl up his spine, an almost innate feeling that something was about to go down. He had never been in a firefight before, but as felt his heart start hammering he continued to reach for his weapon…
“Here.” ‘Senad’ said suddenly, and one of the other men stepped forward carrying a briefcase. He handed it to ‘Senad’, who took it, opened it up, and offered it to Zvonimir. The latter stepped forward himself and glanced into the case’s contents. Stacks of Syaran Dinars stared back. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Zvonimir said quietly, but in the stillness of the night everyone present could hear him.
Zvonimir had barely began to reach for the case before ‘Senad’s head exploded and the report of a gunshot screamed around them. “Shit!” Was all he could scream before he dived for cover. Radovan’s head snapped to his left as he realized what had happened. One of the Muslims screamed out something and the rest of them began unholstering their weapons before another burst of gunfire cut one of them down.
“Get off the street!” Zvonimir screamed, as his cadre dived for the scant protection offered by the side of the road. The four of them rolled into the ditch and desperately unfurled their rifles. There was a steady chorus of automatic fire, from both the still standing Muslims and the unknown assailants, who the crew could now tell were firing from concealed position atop the nearby rooftops. The rounds that were drilling into the ground near the ditch made it clear the crew’s cover was temporary.
“Who the fuck are these guys?” Alan demanded as he brought his rifle to bear and began firing back at the attackers.
“Cops?” Lev asked while he squeezed off a burst.
“No way, they’ve got to be Dražen’s boys!” Zvonimir yelled to be heard amid the gunfire. Radovan un-shouldered his rifle and took aim at the muzzle flashes in the distance and pulled the trigger; only for the rifle to not fire. He swore as he realized he hadn’t flicked off the safety. He did so, only to be forced to keep his head down as another burst slammed into the ground in front of him. “We need to get the fuck out of here!” He screamed.
“No shit!”
“Get ready to move! They’re tearing the Muslims apart, and we’re next!” He crawled behind the trio and ended up on the far end next to Radovan. “Lev, Alan, when I say gun, run for that alley! We’ll cover you!”
The gunfire was clearly one sided now, as the crew’s prospective business partners had been killed to a man. The rest of the attackers were now concentrating their firepower on the remaining dealers.
“Go, go, go!” Zvonimir screamed, while he and Radovan opened fire. Lev and Alan rose to their feet and bolted for the cover of the alley, stumbling around in the dark. It seemed to Radovan that some of the attackers had realized the movement and were now firing on the two runners. Radovan cursed as he heard a burst followed by a scream.
“They got Lev! They got Lev!” Alan bellowed in the distance.
“Leave him!” Zvonimir roared back. “Rad, get ready to move!”
Radovan felt fear settle in his nerves. Lev was down, cut short while trying to run, and now he was expected to run the same route. Part of him just wanted to curl into a ball and stay there, hoping whoever was shooting at them would just leave him alone. He didn’t notice Zvonimir was yelling at him until he felt the older man grab hold of his collar and hoist him to his feet.
“Run, fucker, run!”
Radovan bolted like a rabbit, running as fast as his legs could carry him. His rifle bounced around and he nearly dropped it. The slick grass around the side of the road offered little grip for his boots, and he nearly slipped more than once. With a sickening feeling in his stomach, he ran past the body of Lev, who’s quiet groans made it clear the man was not dead, at least not yet. Again, a part of his mind urged him to go back and rescue his comrade, but he was moving to fast, physically and mentally, to slow down. Bullets impacted the ground around him and he heard another burst of gunfire that thundered in his ears, only to realize it was Alan giving him covering fire. He slid to his knees once he got to the alleyway, ignoring the pain of the cement scraping at his skin. Zvonimir followed him just a moment later.
“No time to lose, let’s get back to the car.” He yelled, and the surviving trio ran down the alley back towards their getaway. Their stomping, rapid footsteps echoed against the brick walls of the nearby, amid their rapid breathing and clanking of their files and magazines as they ran, fleeing as fast as they could. The beaten, rusty sedan that awaited them was as unreliable as a car could be, but the sight of it was a breath of fresh air to the beleaguered gun runners. “Get in!” Zvonimir hollered, grabbing the driver’s seat door handle and swinging it open. Alan and Radovan swung open the rear doors and jumped in. Zvonimir gunned the engine, which responded weakly. “Come on you bastard.” He swore as he tried to coax it into running, which it finally did after some more swearing.
The vehicle began rolling forward, wheels and brake pads screeching before it picked up speed. They began moving down the street, heading for the highway, and for a brief moment the idea of safety began to settle into the minds of the surviving crew members.
The back windshield shattered as a bullet hit it.
“Son of a bitch!” Radovan swore as he ducked behind the seats.
“Behind us! They’re behind us!” Alan yelled.
“Shoot them! Shoot them!” Zvonimir screamed from the front of the car, while still holding his foot down on the pedal. Radovan and Alan rose their heads and rifles above the seats and took aim at the distant muzzle flashes. They depressed the triggers, the roar of gunfire pounding their eardrums. Bullets thudded into their vehicle, causing it to rock back and forth on its suspension. Alan and Radovan fired back, not sure they were hitting anything in the slightest. Zvonimir guided the vehicle towards the highway, his two cadre still firing back as they rode.
Radovan wasn’t even sure he was aiming in the right direction, much less hitting anything. He dropped an empty magazine and slid in another one. He raised his rifle to fire again, just as Alan lowered himself to reload. Radovan let loose on the trigger, stopping just at the right time to hear the sickening sound of flesh being punctured as Alan suddenly jerked to his side and dropped his rifle. Something wet and hot splashed onto Radovan. He screamed in shock.
“Alan’s hit!!”
“Shit, is he okay?”
Radovan stared in horror as he watched Alan writhe in agony, his hands feebly clawing at his shredded throat, trying to stop the bleeding in the ultimate exercise in futility.
“Christ, he’s fucked up!” Radovan realized that Alan’s blood was splattered across in his face, chest and clothes.
“Put some pressure on the wound!” Zvonimir yelled, still guiding his vehicle onto the highway. “Radovan, put some pressure on the wound, damn it!”
Radovan raised his hands to clamp down on Alan’s neck, only to withdraw immediately as the man’s blood spilt all over his hands. Radovan pulled back, desperately wanting to get away from Alan and his blood that was spilling everywhere. Zvonimir continued to yell at Radovan to do something, but Radovan couldn’t bring himself to get any closer to the slow, gurgling noise coming from Alan’s shattered throat until he finally stopped living.
Zvonimir’s driving got the vehicle onto the highway, where the distant gunfire faded away and eventually all they had was the weak engine of the car and the slight crackle of glass as it shuffled along the floor with the car’s movements.
“Radovan. Radovan! RADOVAN!” Zvonimir yelled, trying to get his attention.
Radovan didn’t hear him. The entire world seemed to fade away. As they drove down the highway the streetlights would temporarily illuminate the interior of the car, only to fade away after a few seconds. It was in those few seconds of dim, fluorescent light that Radovan could stare down and see his crimson stained palms. It would be all he could think about for some time.
Present Day
“Sir?”
Foreign Minister Dubravko Lenković nudged Executive Radovan Kostović, whom for some reason had taken a very serious interest in his palms. The Foreign Minister’s touch seemed to have stirred Kostović from his daze, as he quickly looked up.
“Yes?”
“The meetings about to start.” The Foreign Minister explained.
Kostović nodded. “Right, let’s get this shit show on the road.”
The previous nights meeting had concluded with little fanfare, each delegation retiring to their quarters. Apart from a brief embrace with Monika Shefer before going to bed, Kostović had done little besides go to be late and wake up early. Despite the gravity of the situation before him he had little time to waste, and by 0800 he had arrived in the main conference room.
The conference room itself was large but simple in decor. A bright series of chandeliers hung on the tall ceiling, and a series of tables stood in the center of the room. There were four entrances, two on each side of the room, which was large enough to host more than seventy people. The two main tables were situated on the right and left side of the room, one for the Ossorian delegation, and one for the Shalumnite delegation. Both tables were large enough to accommodate each side’s allies if they so chose to sit with them.
Surrounding the main tables were seating for the non-involved but still observing nations, the Quenminh, the Allamunnika, the Gylians, Cacertians, the Delkorans, Kirisakians, and Siluans. There would be no reporters or journalists allowed in the room during the duration of the talks, only the official delegations and security. Four secretaries sat in each corner of the square formed by the main conference table to take down the minutes of the meeting. At 0830 the meeting began in earnest, with each delegation at their assigned meeting.
Kostović took point with the opening statements. “Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, we will now begin the official talks to de-escalate the situation between the High Kingdom of Ossoria and the Empire of Shalum over the Arzell Islands. This meeting will begin with both sides openly stating their grievances, demands, and recommendations. Once both sides have done so, we will commence a two hour recess for both sides to discuss their proposals and issues. At 1100 we will resume talks and begin ironing out solutions. We will recess again at 1300 for lunch and resume at 1400. We will spend the remainder of the time formulating a solution that is acceptable for both parties. We will end at 1800 and have dinner, if negotiations are not complete at that time we will convene tomorrow as well.”
He exhaled, and then glanced around the room to the assembled delegates. “If there are no objections, then I officially pass the floor to Imperator Tyler Holland, who will state the demands and issues of the Shalumnite Empire, after he is finished High Queen Tara Silven will do the same for the Ossorian High Kingdom.”
He gestured towards the Imperator, ceding him the attention of the room.
