Mavala, JaraguptaLukewarm. That was the best way he could describe their arrival into Mavala International, the capital airport that also served as the primary Air base. Sure, when the USG and Guild command staff officers stepped off the C907 Cayman, they were greeted by counterparts in the JRA. They were greeted formally and professionally, as to be expected.
There were no bands playing. No color guards on display or children with flowers running to meet the exotic foreigners. And there shouldn't have been, either. Colonel Laurent Cogant had seen that before in his time with the USG, also known as the Uli-Schwyz back in the day. On Hutanjia, when they first arrived, he had been a Major - head of Zeta Company/Uli Regiment and destined for an epic battle for their FOB on Nesselberg in which they were almost overrun. It was the battle where he’d lost one of his eyes.
The Hutanjians had loved the mercenaries then...until they didn't. At the end of the war, there were definitely some dark feelings from the clients that Van Aardel, then a Colonel, had pulled the Schwyz Regiment at a crucial point of the West Cardwith campaign in order to rescue the USG home island from raiders. He had done it against the orders of General Tell, but no one, not in the USG anyway, could fault him for his choice. It had however, helped to seal the collapse of the allied front on West Cardwith.
Other contracts he'd served, they had gotten differing reactions, but usually bordering on indifference. He recalled one contract initiation in a certain Slavic country where they had landed at a deserted airfield and had to drive some kilometers to find their local liaison, passed out drunk at an outpost while the battlefront raged just 30 km further on.
This though...this would work. No garish fanfare, but no unprofessional buffoonery either. General Van Aardel would approve as well. For another brief moment, he had thought of General Nelson Tell instead. God, he was going to miss working for the old carrot top. Not that he didn't have the utmost respect for Pieter van Aardel, but it would still take some time to get used to the regime change.
Meanwhile, to the north, at the ports of Nevala, Chedankashasar, and Nartaki, sub-contracted cargo boats, escorted by Jaraguptan and Riysian ships, unloaded both men and equipment, artillery, and vehicles of the USG, as well as other Guild units, to begin to fulfil the contract. They would begin a journey south and east in convoys to the besieged cities. The cities of Northern Jaragupta were dominated by the Tamar ethnic population. They were at relative peace, with smaller JRA garrisons, except when the HDLF decided they needed to get a taste of terror. The south was where critical control needed to be re-exerted by the government and their new contractors and allies.
What couldn't be flown in to Mavala for the USG was shipped in via the port at Nevala. While they certainly could have docked at Mehatar or another southern port, there were definite security reasons for the northern destination. For one, while the Tamar people were very curious to watch the foreign troops disembark, they were deemed to be a lot less hostile to control and keep at a safe distance than the Hamikhs.
Secondly, if there was a spy trying to document everything being unloaded, they were more likely to stand out here than down south where
everyone would be trying to report back what the Guild forces were bringing in. The merely curious would be the exception in that crowd. At least this was according to the local authorities, represented by what passed as the intelligence apparatus of the national gendarmerie.
Merlin (aka Elijah Rejmarak) felt a little differently after being in country a few days. From what he could tell, there would be spies in any port reporting disembarkation operations, no matter whether it was a Tamar or Hamikh dominated city. Both the HNLA and the HDLF seemed to have that reach, even if other, smaller dissident factions did not.
However, he felt it wasn't a battle worth fighting with his counterparts in the Jaraguptan gendarmerie. There were sure to be plenty of other more critical issues to stand his ground on. He would bring it up with his counterparts in the Mukhabarat, the Riysian intel agency, who were beginning to make themselves known in the island republic.
Meanwhile, USG sergeant majors and lower ranked officers who weren't attending the Guild command staff briefing were busy getting the ranks in order and gear ready for their last stop for this deployment: Their respective unit FOBs.
Not to throw shade on their fellow Guild operators, who were all of the highest professional caliber until they proved not to be, but the USG had a slightly different decorum, especially when it came to larger scale deployments, versus small team missions when USG operators deployed out of uniform, but very much laden with gear.
In Jaragupta, they wore their issued uniforms: fatigues of a subdued camouflage pattern. On tropical and arid climate contracts, tactical shorts were authorized on base and for non-combat duties. Due to the local flora and fauna concerns, long fatigue pants still needed to be worn in the bush and on urban patrol when their legs might be easily cut up by debris, then exposed to infection without more protection, but shorts were still authorized for some instances.
The most distinctive item of uniform were their hats. The USG headgear was something of a cross between a tactical boonie hat and a smaller version of the Australian-style slouch hats. (Air crew and mechanized personnel were still authorized to wear the grey berets.)
The slouch hats had been re-adapted by General Tell about a dozen years previously, after being abandoned in the 1980’s in favor of berets. While they sometimes got in the way, they were a distinctive feature and a matter of old Uli-Schwyz tradition. It was also why they were sometimes dubbed ‘The Cowboys’ by clients, because it certainly wasn’t due to a cavalier attitude.
So the landings continued unabated...
The helicopters, VTOLs, IFVs, APCs, mobile mortars and AA, and artillery were packed up in innocuous shipping crates, loaded up onto flatbed cars and trained down to the capital where the JRA had loaned the Guild their second largest base, which also had its own operational airstrip. Cogant had decided the base name was too hard to pronounce, so he had re-christened it Panther.
At Panther, the rotor and light aircraft, along with many of the vehicles, were to be assembled and readied by Intexa logistical crews to stay, or be flown or driven further south and west. To the east, similar actions were playing out in bases given over to Shalumite Security International and Hurtful Outcomes, who would cover the northeastern and southeastern sectors.
Some of the aircraft, especially the LIRCAS Sergeants, small light Neu Engollian manufactured planes that served as both light reconnaissance and ground attack fighters, and the rotor gunships, were flown to closer loaned operating bases where they could cover USG, Blackwood, and Varangian Guard forces during COIN operations. The first base, closest to Mehatar, was dubbed Bengal, while the one near Talika was dubbed Chital. Where accommodations were deemed inadequate, the USG engineers got to work to reconfigure the bases to handle the workload that Cogant and the rest of the Guild staff had in mind for them.
As they met on the tarmac, other air transports were also arriving, as well as the NEF-33A Warrior multi-role fighters that had escorted them in and KC700 refuelers that had kept them aloft. C2000s and C74 Carlys were also taxiing as they arrived to disgorge more troops and gear. Contract initiation was a wonderful sight.
"Colonel Cogant? I am Captain Dhasha Gayapjani, an assistant to Marshal Balakrishnan. We will take you into the city to meet with the JRA command staff and your compatriots who are already here."
Cogant straightened his eyepatch, an affectation that he continued to do, despite having had a patch for years. He also had never considered the surgery to put in a cosmetic eye, despite the funds to do so. He liked the mystique and slight apprehension that the patch brought out in those that defied him.
He was confused for a moment
“Compatriots? You mean Merlin?”
He referred to the cover name of Elijah Rejmarak, the Intexa spy.
“Yes, him, but also the Riysians are here...And we are choppering in the other commanders that have landed at the ports, as per your wishes.”
“Oh, yeah...Very good then. Lead on.”
They climbed into JRA
Mahingras, light utility vehicles, and were sped into the city, escorted by heavier armored vehicles. They were in sight of the palace with its domes, but instead stopped at a lower brick building, less ornate and more utilitarian in nature.
It was a military depot that was going to be given over to the Guild staff.
They were escorted into the main floor where they came upon the very officers that Gayapjani had confirmed would be there.
Merlin approached him first, hand outstretched. He had been a military man at one time. He too, like many other USG troopers, was a Hutanjian War veteran, having served in the Edomite 21st Lancers. He had now been a civilian for some time. Due to his job, and the length of his absence from military service, he was quite comfortable in that civilian skin. Cogant took the much shorter man’s hand, letting him speak first.
“Good to see you, sir.”
“Merlin. How are you settling in? You’ve been here for what...2 weeks now?”
“About that, sir. I have been productive. I have quite the bombshell for you.”
“Anything that the rest of the Guild and our allies can’t hear?”
“Well...no…”
“Good. Then save it for just a bit when we’re all gathered for the briefing.”
“Yes sir, I can do that.” Merlin took it in stride, instead of getting put out. They turned as more new arrivals also walked in.
The Riysian counter-surveillance team hung around the site in a couple of rented cars, cameras and radios at the ready to help keep this meeting safe. Just a little bit earlier, they had been inside with TSCM equipment, a Mukhabarat-developed all in one kit, with spectrum analyzers, IR detectors, directional antennas, etc. to find and trace any bugs that might’ve been planted in the room. Thankfully, they found nothing - as the JRA and Intexa had assured them, having also examined the room.
Not that Colonel Akkadi hadn’t believed the others, but...
Someone in the West had coined the motto: “In God we trust, all else we monitor” - and this summed up the Mukhabarat’s overall attitude nicely. There was never such thing as “too much” security, especially in a critical time like this.
Speaking of the Colonel, he had just arrived here, in the back of a black diplomatic car from the embassy. Flanking him was the Riysian Ambassador, representing the political side of things, and the military attache, Maj. Tarfa, the only Mukhabarat officer at the embassy who’s identity he knew - because it wasn’t a secret to anyone. They carried folders and briefs, information at the ready to support their new allies.
With polite smiles and greetings to everyone, they settled in to their positions at the table. It felt a little awkward though, as there hadn’t been much communication since the initial briefing between the Riysians and the Guild/JRA. But, hopefully today, they could lay down the framework for better cooperation - something they would sorely need if they would crush any chance of Marxism taking hold in Jaragupta.
Dekker had arrived fifteen minutes prior, as he expected would be typical among a collection of ex-military types. With him came four shadows, at least in the metaphorical sense. His personal security detail had shuffled him from the rotor-wing landing pad, through to the Guild-supplied vehicles, and finally to the destination itself. They’d swept into the facility in a non-threatening (albeit authoritative) manner. Much like their commander, each man was dressed in varying shades of khaki or brown cargo pants and the presentation-style Blackwood Company logo-bearing polo shirts under light plate carriers with minimal accessories. Each carried a short SCAR-styled carbine as well, outfitted with telescoping stocks & close-range optics, in addition to holstered pistols.
The boss was also armed, along with his typical air of mild irritation & nonchalance, the holstered Glock on his right hip was as much a part of the uniform as the polo shirt, which barely fit his powerful frame. The shadows faded into the corner of the room, remaining attentive but generally out of the man. The “Old Man” (as Dekker was frequently referred to) was more than capable of taking care of himself, but corporate policy dictated he didn’t move without at minimum four long-guns in his immediate vicinity.
Standing over six feet in height & built like a man who’d lived in a powerlifting gym, his graying reddish-brown hair & beard were neatly groomed, although he’d tilted a pair of battered Oakley sunglasses up into his close-cropped hair. Heavily tattooed & smelling heavily of expensive tobacco, Dekker carried a gently-steaming cup of coffee in a travel mug in his left hand, along with a small, worn-looking notebook. His right hand remained free, out of habit.
With a faint sigh of resignation, he settled into the briefing...
Major Ignacy Pyrczinski was normally Commander of the USG’s Alpha Company, Galien Regiment, but now he had been appointed the GRCT field commander. He had moved up quite a bit in the ranks since his early days as a young NCO in the Polish GROM special operations forces.
He stood near the doorway as the Blackwood entourage walked in. He respected their professionalism in bringing their own security. He’d had Colonel Cogant do the same, despite the locals informing them that there was already security provided by the Jaraguptan Royal Guard.
On their arrival at the old JRA depot, his doubts were justified when they realized that the squad of Royal Guardsmen assigned to them were all lounging about in the main meeting hall of the building. Not even one of them was manning the security room that had one working monitor hooked to a fuzzy old CCTV that’s view was fixed on a view of the street gutter near the front door.
Pyrczinski had put USG shooters around the block, with concealed pistols, and counter-sniper teams on the roof. He had sent the Royal Guardsmen back to their HQ. It was probably better that they weren’t around to hear and report back on what would undoubtedly be a very critical brief of theirs and their bosses observed performances so far. Unfortunately, the JRA aide to the Marshal would have to stay.
Belatedly, he also realized that the Riysians had had the same plan and just not bothered to dismiss the useless locals, waiting for the Guild officers to do that. His men stumbled upon the Riysian security as they got into position.
He thought about approaching Bray to introduce himself, but thought maybe it could wait until after the brief. Bray didn’t seem to be in the mood. Also, his attention was drawn away by another Guild leader’s entrance...
Outside, farther down the road, a small rusty sedan puttered languidly towards the building. It bounced without much direction or suspension, clearly in no hurry to get where ever it was going. Abruptly, it came to a stop in front of the building as the tires proceeded to deflate with a satisfying whoosh.
The driver’s side door opened, and out stepped a rather short individual clad in black sunglasses, a gray hoodie, tan combat trousers, and mismatched shoes. Eelin glanced around and removed her sunglasses, allowing her bloodshot swollen eyes to take in the surroundings.
“Fuck this shit,” she mumbled unsatisfactorily under her breath, before replacing the sunglasses on her face.
Her gait remained a bit wobbly, and the numerous dents and scrapes on the car she had been driving mailed the message home. She didn’t care though, least of which as she curled in on herself and shuffled past the few concerned guards who rushed up to look at the spectacle. She made sure her official contractor badge was easily noticed, to help mitigate the fact her garb screamed
incognito spy.
Once again, the frigid corrosive tropical air conditioning hit her unexpectedly as she stepped inside. Even with the thick sweater she had on, the bits of exposed flesh were heavy with perspiration and burned when in direct contact with the cold. It only took a few moments for her eyes to adjust, but she had no desire to remove her sunglasses.
There were others around. Cogant, specifically. And some local officer whom she really didn’t care about.
Behind the rusty beat up sedan, a Range Rover pulled up painted two tone white and forest green with a rack of lights on the roof. A shield bearing an elephant on both the passenger side and driver’s side door was that of the National Gendarmerie. Two gendarmes exited their rover and approached the sedan, hands on holstered Murakami side arms. When they saw that the car was empty, they slowly and alertly approached the old Army building.
Pyrczinski trotted out of the building, having had an eye on the doorway for the Guild command staff to show up. Kirves had slipped through the door before he got even with her, but the gendarme patrol car concerned him. As the two gendarmes approached, he flashed his Jaraguptan government issued contractor badge hanging from a lanyard. Just a week in, it wasn’t so familiar to the locals, but they recognized the government seal. He gesticulated wildly and spoke in his Polish accented English as they angrily pointed in the building and fired back in broken English mixed with Hindi.
“I don’t care what she hit! She’s with us. You need to move on. This building is out of your jurisdiction!”
Finally, the sergeant threw up his hands and motioned to his partner. They headed back to the Rover, cursing about the Guild personnel. They climbed in and backed up, speeding off. Pyrczinski went back inside, catching up to the Falkasian woman.
“Ms. Eelin Kirves? I am Major Ignacy Pyrczinski, field commander for the USG. Welcome to…” He paused as the heavy alcohol fumes hit him. He’d seen her stumbling, but thought maybe she was adjusting to the heat. He spoke in a hushed tone that no one a half meter away would hear.
“You need to get squared away, Ms. Kirves. We have a major brief in a few minutes. I’ll get you some water.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, although her glasses did a good job of keeping the move concealed.
“Thank you. My head hurts,” she mumbled under her tequila-laden breath and she continued to beeline for the meeting room. “The locals love us, on the upside.”
Pyerczinski tilted his head at that, but said nothing as he went to retrieve a bottled water from a portable cooler sitting on a table.
As though relations could not get more sour, a gendarme Gazelle quickly approached, smoothly flaring in for a landing at Panther base. Just as the wheels touched down a familiar figure was pushed out of the cabin, followed by a local officer brandishing a black eye and a limp. They were escorted into a Mahingra MUV that took them to Guild HQ. Once there, Bradley climbed out of the vehicle and sternly walked over to Major Pyrczinski and made a brisk salute before quickly explaining his situation.
“There appeared to be a misunderstanding at the docks in Pradhaan, sir. As the dockhands were still expecting Salamander group instead of our forces. As such, our papers were not to their liking…. I personally believe I’ve already settled matters there, and we are currently offloading supplies for the rest of our battalion…. This particular officer still refuses to believe my story, and I’d like to arrest and interrogate him for possible intentional sabotage of operations.”
Pyrczinski blanched a bit.
“No, please don’t do that! I think we may not have ensured that all the officials in Pradhaan were aware that Salamander personnel would not be arriving, and to expect HOI instead. That’s on us. Let’s not complicate things further. I think you would agree that keeping the locals happy and cooperating with our operations is the best possible outcome, Mr. Bradley?”
“I suppose, but is our mission not only to help train the locals, but also assist in identifying and removing overzealous and treasonous elements within their existing command structure as per the hearts and minds campaign?” Bradley shot back. “As they are now
well aware of our purpose and presence, further obstructions of our lawful duties are not to be tolerated.
Especially if their actions are hurting the local civilians.”
He gave the gendarme a stern look, knowing he was listening in. The fellow blanched a bit at the prospect of being sent to the equivalent of a gulag, or worse. The Hurti was obviously not sharing
all the details regarding how he came to blows with the officer.
Major Pyrczinski motioned it off.
“Just...just let it lie for now. Don’t do anything to any personnel of our clients, please, Mr. Bradley. I beg you. Just keep it in check for right now and we’ll discuss this after the briefing. Okay? Thank you. Dobro.”
“
Technically... since they are not the ones financing this contract, they are not our clients, But as you wish.”
Pyrczinski frowned as he siddled away, not ready to turn his back on Bradley. He would have some work in smoothing things over with the local gendarme commander in Pradhaan, once this brief was done.
SSI was not in the business of taking chances, especially when it came to the safety of their own leadership. If nothing else, it set a poor precedent with the clients they hoped to attract. The vehicles they used for transport had all the looks of a luxury SUV, but in reality, were heavily modified trucks with expensive interiors. Director Roland Weber’s personal vehicle was boxy and black, and equipped with a hearty assortment of armored sections and even launchers capable of deploying tear gas to provide for a quick getaway while under fire or swarm attacks.
The Rhino, as it was designated, didn’t so much squeak as it did groan to a halt. No matter how well maintained it may have been, it took a lot of force to bring a several ton vehicle to a stop, even when it had begun to slow well in advance. The first three men out were loaded for bear, bedecked in protective gear and weapons slung across their chests, quickly pulled down into gloved hands as their feet hit the dusty ground. Behind them was Roland Weber, a man who looked a trifle more comfortable in fatigues with a pistol on his side rather than in a suit and armed only with a briefcase. The rest of the party who followed him out was the rest of his protective detail, primarily made up of men who he had served with for years if not longer.
“We’re on time, it looks like.” He noted with a quiet grunt, rolling his shoulders as a door slammed shut behind him. It sounded like a vault closing, really. “But not the first here. Thank the Maker for that, I’ve always hated being the first to the party.” His lips curled into a tight smile as he began to walk forward, the ground crunching beneath his feet. “Remember boys-”
“Heads up, eyes forward.” They all intoned, more or less as one. A few chuckled under their breath, while others just smirked silently as they followed diligently. Eelin sat hunched in her folding chair, the hoodie she was wearing pulled tightly around her face so only her sunglasses poked through. In the presence of such a secure location, they all seemed more or less at ease, but it didn’t make them any less prepared. No one knew what to expect, other than that this was supposed to be one of the seemingly endless meetings that had come with the contract.
Pyrczinski gave a wave to Weber, then focused up as the Colonel started the procession.
Colonel Cogant started the meeting since everyone was there and gathered, even if some didn’t seem to have their full mental focus.
“Hello Guild partners! We run our groups differently, but we all have the same goals and we’re getting our paychecks cut by the same people right now, so it would help if we can coordinate and get this job done well and done right. Accorzu? That’s Frandit for okay, right, you with me, etcetera....Anyway, we’re all getting settled in and I just want to make sure we get any issues or questions and concerns out of the way. I think we could meet at least once a week for the first few weeks, then, as things settle out into a routine and we have our full network set-up, we could cut back to once every fortnight or monthly in person, beyond that. If that works for everyone?”
Bradley huffed but generally remained silent, thinking that if he had to show up
here to slap some motivation into the USG liaison every week, something was already off to a dreadfully bad start. Usually it went the other way around with commissars paying visits to the boots in the fields, rather than regularly recalling the crusty old boots to the parlor-room. But their ways were their own for reasons, even if they failed to make much sense to a simple company-commander.
Ultimately, while Cogant was deferring to all the Guild field commanders for this contract, it was a contract that had been inked by the USG - they had brought their Guild partners in afterwards. (With the Guild they were partners, but usually with any other company set up, the partners not in on the initial deal would be sub-contractors.) So they had top rights to call the shots on how the contract was going to run. Plus, the client was deferring to the USG as the liaison for the Guild.
However, Cogant could only push so hard because the USG could not field the numbers for a contract this big on its own. If he pissed off one of their Guild partners, he eyed Bradley when he thought about that, and one or more left, after already losing Salamander, the USG would not be able to fulfill the contract on their own. Not properly, anyway.
“The Riysians are here and have been starting to set up their own operations with our clients. We will need to work with them as closely as possible and defer to them as needed. If you didn’t read the brief, just to let you know, Varangian Guard and Blackwoood, due to their smaller numbers, will fall under the USG logistical support and we will coordinate operations more closely with them, providing air and vehicle assets as needed.”
He pointed to the Blackwood chief,
“Dekker Bray has agreed to be my XO. Feel free to run shit by him if you can’t get a hold of me. He’ll be going back and forth between here and Talika/Bengal.”
Dekker waved as an afterthought, so the others could put a face to his name. He didn’t have much to contribute at this point.
Colonel Cogant continued.
“As you may know, Salamander PMC opted out after the Kenega session we had. They cited various logistical issues and previous contract commitments. If things escalate, we may be able to entice them back in, but my doubts are high. Let’s not hold our breath on that. HOI is taking over what was to be the Salamander AO.
SSI and HOI have good, full operations, so we will leave them to run their shows as they see fit, helping where we can. As for the VG floating tin cans, I’m not fully versed on working with naval assets as the USG usually leaves that up to the clients, so...they’ll be working directly with their Riysian naval counterparts to coordinate.
Also, besides Riysian intel, The Mukhabarat, we’ve had some of our people, in the form of the Intexa, here for a couple weeks or more, so they might be able to give us some insight on what they have found. Merlin? You had something important to share, so I’ll let you go first. Then our Riysian friends.”
Elijah Rejmarak, aka Merlin, moved to the front of the hall. He thought about the ‘Riysian friends’ that the Colonel had mentioned as he walked right past them. So far, Intexa and the Mukhabarat hadn’t gotten onto the same page to coordinate intel gathering activities. It was the nature of both their organizations that they were not prone to working with others when they could internalize security and keep leaks to a minimum. He understood that, but he couldn’t help but feel some professional rivalry that the Mukhabarat was stepping on his toes when he felt he and his people could do this whole contract just fine on their own.
He dismissed the thoughts to focus on what he was about to say.
“I’m going to cut to the chase here. Our local clients managed to tap two independent sources in the Hamikh community...”
The JRA Chief of Staff liaison, Captain Dhasha Gayapjani, had been silent up until now, and he didn’t break that streak, but nodded emphatically to confirm what Merlin was saying.
“...Both report that a ship docked at Mehatar over two months ago bearing a foreign crew - black, brown, East Asian, and white people ‘so white they were almost blue’. That’s a direct quote, by the way...Dozens and up to maybe three hundred of these foreigners disembarked and were whisked off by known HDLF revolutionaries to other destinations. Again, I’m just going to speculate here and say that is the ISVC crew we were dreading. I don’t know who else it could be. They sound like a very motley, international crew to me....supporting a Marxist insurgency. The list is very short on who operates like that.”
Cogant shook his head,
“So they’ve had a 2 month jump on us to get set up?”
Merlin shrugged.
“I’m afraid so, Sir. They have indeed had a healthy chance to burrow into the local population and integrate into the insurgency network.”
Cogant paced for a moment as Merlin paused. Then he addressed the Guild and Riysian officers.
“We need to capture one or more of these foreigners...Alive. We need to confirm that the ISVC are indeed here. Not only for the propaganda coup, but it will bring every anti-commie nation in on supporting - throwing money towards - Jaragupta. A financially stable client is our best possible hope. They get more funds for better war fighting, our contract gets that much easier to execute...I wonder…” He turned to the Riysian officers, “How would the Riysian leadership feel to have it confirmed that there is a concerted international socialist effort present to subvert the current Jaraguptan government, your ally?”
“Maker almighty.” One of the Shalumite operators murmured as he dug around at his hip. It took a moment, but his fingers finally found purchase, tugging a canteen with company branding free from where it had rested against his belt. “This is going to be as bad as Concordia was. Two months, really?”
“No, it’s going to be
worse than that.” Another bodyguard muttered as he leaned over, fingers silently drumming against the stock of his personal defense weapon. “At least we were relatively close to home back then.” It had been within their own borders, though far out from the domestic areas they normally serviced. Even so, supplies and reinforcements were only an hour or two away at most. Here, however? They didn’t have that kind of luxury. All they had to fall back on were their local allies and Guild partners, and if they were going up against an entrenched enemy, the chances were good that they would have problems all their own.
Weber grunted under his breath and glanced around at his partners. “That isn’t exactly the sort of news I was hoping to hear, but we’ll manage regardless. Right everyone?” He smiled tightly. “We’re all professionals, and I know I’ve dealt with worse in my day. Just let me know if there’s anything my agency can do to help. With all the teams I’ve got coming in, I have no doubt I can spare a few plus air support.”
Merlin walked around the circle of Guild field commanders, hearing the murmuring.
“This doesn’t have to be too difficult, ladies and gentlemen. Like I said, they landed a small battalion strength at most,
and they’re probably divided up. It would be operational suicide for them to be operating out of one base.
If...
IF...They are the ISVC, this is the initial scouting mission. What they call the CAIF, or Corp Advisory Implementation Force. I would venture to say less than half would be combatants. Well trained combatants, but a company’s worth or less. The rest are likely other skilled technicians and personnel - spies, engineers, humanitarian workers, medical staff, communications and cyber techs, training and political cadre…Preferably, we get more, but just one captured foreign agent with any documentation, and we could crack this wide open. It might convince Jaragupta’s allies to blockade the Islands to keep any larger ISVC force from landing.
Dekker took the opportunity to chime in. “The good news is that the dudes in charge of shit won’t be hard to pick out. That does explain the uptick in insurgent effectiveness, though.” The statement was followed with some note-scrawling in the notebook.
Blackwood’s intel apparatus had suspicions of outside involvement, a sudden sophisticated attack amid a series of limited-proficiency strikes stuck out as an outlier. It was the reason the construction of Blackwood’s FOB had been constructed with some standoff distance from the local troops they were supposed to train, at least until they’d have time to properly vet them, starting with the most recent recruits in their AO. Insurgency 101 involved infiltrating key government agencies, especially those with access to training manuals, weapons, and explosives.
The Riysians stood silent for a second, before smiles appeared on their three faces. Dr. Muhsin, the Ambassador, spoke up first.
“Its excellent, Mister Merlin. Thank you. I think our 'neighbors'..." He said, glancing to the Mukhabarat officers on his right. "Can make great use of this information as well."
"It is more than that, in fact. You've found the missing piece that we needed!" Colonel Akkadi exclaimed, trying to show .
“Let’s start at the beginning...please pass this around.” He reached into his folder, and pulled out a sheaf of papers. Each one was a simple, single-page, double-sided report with Arabic letters - classification markings - crossed out at the top and replaced with a simple “Exceptionally Secret” designation.
“This is what we know, that’s relevant to Jaragupta. Though we didn’t realize it at the time.”
The document described, in very general terms, the suspected formation of a new Cardwithian special operations force, with a potential order of battle based on known elite Cardwithian military units. A very high resolution satellite image, from a Riysian satellite, showed off what looked like an airbase - but with no planes or personnel visible on the tarmac. An ellipsis, just under 100 meters from end to end, was overlaid onto the hangars. The image was dated about two months ago.
“So, we, er..identified what we thought was the activation of a new Cardwithian unconventional forces unit. But we noticed that something was strange. Major Tarfa could explain a little better.”
“To put it simply, ladies and gentlemen, it isn’t a People’s Army formation.“ Major Tarfa, the military attache, spoke in a direct manner. “The reason is right below on the report.”
A little down on the page was a paragraph describing a certain person and her organization being the sponsors of the new unit, and her presence at the unit’s activation. A rather bland photo of a woman was attached, looking like it had come from a customs desk or a passport.
“We believe a Miss Rosita Esongka was in attendance during the activation of this formation, along with the unit’s CO. She is one of the deputies of PASD, which is separate from the Cardwithian military itself. I’m sure most of you know who they are, but if I was to crudely summarize it...think Party militia and terrorists.” Major Tarfa leaned forward a little. “We immediately believed that it was another one of their strike teams. Our suspicions were deepened when we saw Esongka and the unit depart North Cardwith Island. But we didn’t know where they were going. Considering that a single strike team is small, about the size of an infantry squad, we wondered if it was just for VIP protection.”
A couple of lines mentioned them departing, two months ago. There was a consistent lack of detail through the report to the point; it would be clear to the readers that, while Akkadi would welcome cooperation, the Mukhabarat wasn’t willing to show its methods.
“At the same time though, some of the Cardwiths’ Marxist allies moved around their recce assets.” Colonel Akkadi jumped back in. “Satellites followed new TLEs that gave them a lower slant angle - better visibility - of Jaragupta and the surrounding area. Recce flights were also noticed by us - not very sneaky of them. Data downlinks were aimed at the sea nearby.”
The report described some of the Marxist actions in uncharacteristic detail, but as before refrained from explaining how the Riysians came to know this. Though, satellites could be tracked by even amateurs, so it wasn’t a big feat.
“We didn’t see where the team had ended up, though. Plus, as the Cardwiths themselves hadn’t conducted any overflights of Jaragupta, and we didn’t believe in them having an interest in Jaragupta, it was initially believed to be separate. And...I hate to admit it, but it wasn’t considered urgent at the time. We were wrong on both counts, judging by where we are right now. This report and its conclusion was only made after we came together to form this intervention. Merlin, as I said earlier, this piece of intelligence brings everything together - now we all know what we’re going to be facing."
Tarfa, rubbed his eyes. "Unfortunately, there's not much I can say either - our insight into the rebellion in Jaragupta is miniscule. Captain Gayapjani, I offer my sincerest apologies to the JRA - had we known that foreign terrorists were coming, we would've sent a warning. Hopefully, now that our vision is clear, we won’t have to suffer any more terrible surprises.
Dr. Muhsin nodded, while Col. Akkadi leaned back, thinking about how they got there. He had participated in some of the initial analysis of the data, and a tremendous amount of work had gone into that single leaf of paper. And all of how they got it would be a secret.
They wouldn’t know that the Mukhabarat was tipped off by some query-focused datasets that noted the Cardwithian devices coming online and talking to government servers.
They wouldn’t know how the Mukhabarat discovered it was Esongka, by correlating calls from her known phones to the position of the satellite phone.
They wouldn’t know the direction-finding capabilities of the Wahda “overhead system” that had helped them geolocate the devices.
Even among friends, even inside the same directorate, methods were sacred. Akkadi silently thanked the nameless analysts who had made this sanitized report - it was certainly not an easy, or well recognized, job.
Elijah’s mind raced. The Riysians had satellites focused on the Cardwiths. On a constant basis. There was a lot of territory to cover across the globe, but they seemed to have patterns over that bit of the Wishton Sea. Another question he had was how they had cracked through Cardwithian encryptions, but he wasn’t entirely sure if they had or just gotten lucky that particular night in question that the meeting had been held.
Balancing that out, the Riysians had political and material resource interests in Hutanjia, the main foe of the Cardwiths, so there was cause for them to divert time and energy, and ultimately finances towards that area in order to protect their investment.
He was very eager to know what other Marxist, allied nations and their assets, they had been tracking. He could guess to at least a couple of them. The amount of assets in play to keep monitoring all the areas in question was very astounding, but again, had to be worth it to them.
The Intexa needed to deepen their ties to the Mukhabarat, that much he was willing to concede. He was an analyst first, and a field officer second, so his reaction to the Riysian effort was a bit more exaggerated and incredulous than your typical field operator as he could appreciate all the working parts that had gone into this intel report.
Merlin tried to collect his thoughts to speak.
The Shalumite operational commander licked his lips, but chose to remain otherwise silent, reclining against the back of his seat as he glanced from one representative to another. It was some damning evidence so far as he could tell, the kind that was likely to make his job harder in the coming days. He was not, however, about to lose his cool over it. Whoever the enemy was, he had faced worse in his time; surely they couldn't have been any more menacing than what his boys had fought in the Maldoria province. Quietly, he picked up a cup of coffee and sipped it, pale hands tightly wound around the metal cup.
Colonel Cogant looked at Merlin then around to the other commanders.
“The Riysians are here and evidently putting considerable effort into identifying whoever is backing the HDLF. Which we are nearly conclusive on, but I’d still like some live prisoners to confirm it. I am curious about the Falkies and what their involvement might be, though. I think it’s something that we should discuss further, later.”
Merlin was perplexed, but also trying to move past it. He wanted to be constructive and move forward from this dischord between the Intexa and Mukhabarat, as well as the Guild and the other allies of their client. Colonel Cogant had asked an excellent question about the Falkasian involvement. Another one he was urgently hoping to get an answer to was whether every single attendee at that fateful meeting over a couple months ago, including Deputy Director Esongka, had actually made it to Jaragupta.
Cogant said it again, as apparently Merlin hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Merlin?...Merlin, did you have anything to add?”
Merlin shook himself loose.
“Um...I will debrief all the Guild commanders about the threats in their specific areas of operation after we break here, as well as information about their local client contacts.”
He looked around at the confused faces that reflected how he felt.
“That’s it. That’s all I have for now.”
Cogant nodded.
“Alright then. Seems like no one else has anything, so...Get your individual Intexa briefs and materials before heading out. We’ll be in touch through the usual codes and channels. Carry on and let’s get our AO’s in order.”
Major Pyrczinski was able to get a loaner
Katla SUV to Eelin Kirves to take with her back to Mehatar, after Merlin went over her individual brief. He was going to loan her a USG HQ staffer as a driver, too, but she insisted on taking the vehicle herself, and he was convinced enough that she had sobered up and weathered through the worst of the hangover. She went peeling off as the Polish USGSC Major shook his head.
Guild HQ
Mavala, JaraguptaThey sat in a side meeting room mentally digesting all that had been said during the first, but hopefully not the last Guild command staff brief. It was just Colonel Laurent Cogant, commander of USG forces in Jaragupta and nominal head of the Guild unified command, and Elijah 'Merlin' Rejmarak, Chief Intelligence Officer, head of Intexa operations, USGSC.
Merlin was agitated and driven, but Cogant wanted to get him back and focused on the tasks that both the USGSC, Guild, and their clients needed to accomplish.
"I just don't understand, Colonel. Why couldn't the Riysians share this intel sooner? We're on the same side. Their lack of transparency is going to hinder our ability to be successful on this contract."
Not to mention, he was still astounded at their capability, but he was keeping that one closer to the belt.
Cogant blew out a small puff of air.
"Listen Elijah, I'm going to put it to you like this. If you were them, and had their depths of information, would you share it with us? This is the first time that I've seen you in a while without a shadow from the Royal Guard or Gendarmerie of our clients. No offense to our clients, but if I were Colonel Akkadi, I would assume that the client is riddled with moles. No telling how high up it would go, either. Maybe he was waiting on a good chance to talk to you alone and just never saw that opportunity, or he thought you might share it with the J-goops.”
Merlin winced at that new derogatory term for their clients.
The Colonel continued.
“In any case, you spooks operate pretty predictably, when it comes to sharing and caring. You don’t share. I don’t know why you’re fucking agonizing over this. Talk to USG HQ and get more of our Intexa assets here to up your game. You don’t have to run it by me first, and you know it. In the meantime, I’m not gonna hold your hand here...I am going to be going to the Mukhabarrat for intel as much as I do you. At least until you can all get on the same page.”
Merlin stood up, pushing in his chair in a salty manner.
“I have work to do.”
Cogant pointed at him, turning up the screws.
“Damn right you do! Get your head screwed on straight and get me some solid fuckin’ intel. The clients had contacts who saw some foreign fuckers get off a boat?! What is that shit? That was your big revelation?! Get your own informants out there. You were an analyst at a desk not too long ago. Now you want to get back there? Keep up your current play and I’ll have a word with General van Aardel. Otherwise, let’s get back in the game, Merlin. Akkadi made you look like a clapping seal. We need you focused here. Right now!” I gotta go confer with Dekker. (Dekker Bray, Head of the Blackwood Co. contingent and his Guild XO)...Sorry if I came down on you hard, but we really need to get on the same page. Dismissed.”
The Colonel was up and out quick, leaving the slack jawed Merlin still trying to push past his dress down.
The Tamanna River
SW of Mavala
Between Mavala and PrakaranWhile the Guild command hashed things out in the capital, the contracted troops in the field were well into operations to fulfill the contract.
The JRA (Jaraguptan Royal Army) were in charge of patrolling the mighty muddy Tamanna, not the navy. It was an edge over their branch counterpart that they relished and despite foreign disdain for their overall effectiveness, some effort had been put into keeping the waterway secure. They maintained a small fleet of river patrol craft and this current day found 3 of them abreast of each other. Two held crews of Jaraguptans from 3rd Platoon, Gha Company of the Elephant Regiment, while the southern flank boat held a mix of JRA and USG advisory personnel.
Three USG contractors who had worked with each other for several years now looked out on the banks of the Tamanna: Captain Geirmund Olsen, Master Sergeant David Coleman, and Tech Sergeant Eugen Rothas. This was their 4th voyage out onto the river since their arrival over a week ago, and it had started as uneventful as the previous patrols, so they were at ease, trusting that the JRA trooper manning the .50 caliber gun on the top gunwale would have things in hand if they came under sudden attack. None of them said much but for the occasional necessary communication or head nod and point towards activity on the southern banks, which was where their main focus was. Mostly, they kept to their own thoughts.
Usually it was a group of children or women, bathing, playing or washing clothes in the river, but twice they spotted men who could be insurgents pulling boats up or moving items up on the shore. While there were fishermen active on the river, commerce and trade along the major river that bisected the north and south of the Jaraguptan main island was a main cover for insurgent resupply.
Captain Olsen shook his head when he saw the current group of young men hauling crates up the bank and onto the shore. It was likely a HDLF cache or resupply on the move, but could also be HNLA or one of the other numerous Hamikh separatist splinter factions arming.
He shouted, then got on the radio to communicate to the other two boats that they would be stopping to investigate. Rothas and Coleman took their ARs off safety and prepared to jump from the boat as they closed in. When the Jaraguptans began to ran, they knew that they had a legitimate cause for concern. The JRA trooper on the mounted HMG fired off a burst over the heads of the running suspects, letting them know that the next burst might cut them in two.
As the patrol boat came in hard, it knocked the large dinghy out of the way, dislodging it from the shore, but the expert JRA boat pilot avoided grinding ashore, instead veering the craft out slightly as the momentum slowed.
A landing party of 4 JRA soldiers and the three USG contractors leapt onto the bank, immediately clawing for purchase on the muddy, slimy bank with their free hands. The JRA men bore Arakwawa ARs, while their foreign merc advisers had a mix of SSG 553, FAR 22 and NEG 25 ARs, but all chambering the same caliber rounds. Coleman hung back with 1 indige trooper to secure the abandoned crates while Olsen and Rothas moved in on the three young men who had frozen in the reeds a couple meters in from the bank.
The smell of urine and fear was strong in the air. They were all wearing scrappy T-shirts with many holes and well worn shorts and duct taped sandals. They were frozen and wide eyed after having the large caliber machine gun fire at them, but for one who must be the leader, who squinted in a grimace, trying to look tough.
Olsen nodded over his NEG 25 to his local counterpart, a Lieutenant Patel, who took charge. The men were all put to their knees and searched, then plastic zip tie cuffs were secured around their hands, bound behind their backs.
On the communications, Coleman was quick to chime in on the USG proprietary net.
“Yeah...We cracked open the crates....Mostly rifles and grenades. We got ‘em.”
Olsen shook his head, visible from the short distance as he muttered over the net.
“We got three scared boys with a couple crates. This isn’t the motherload, but it’s a good start.”
MSG Coleman swore under his breath.
“Better nip than we’ve had lately. Decent dent out of their ops, I should think.”
Olsen nodded. He didn’t need to take this away from his men or the indige allies.
“Yeah, I would say so. Let’s load up the crates and we’ll secure the prisoners to interrogate back at Panther.”
“Roger that.” Coleman waved on two more of the JRA Elephant Regiment troopers and set them to hauling the crates aboard the boat.
It was at that moment that a hidden party of insurgents opened fire from the tree line. The first burst caught the young JRA private carrying one of the crates in the back of the neck, just above his plate carrier collar. He went down gurgling and grasping as bright arterial blood sprayed everywhere.
The rest of the landing party scattered for cover and began to return fire. A fierce firefight erupted and Captain Olsen knew they might be in trouble.
“Panther Base, this is River Snake One requesting air support!”
“On the way, River Snake. Passing you over to Umber Flight.” Three LIRCAS light prop aircraft modified for ground attack, known as Umber flight, were already in the air south of Mavala and itching for a fight.
“Roger that.”
About a minute passed.
“River Snake One, this is Umber Actual. We are reading your location. Can you light up the bogies with smoke?”
“Roger that, Umber One.” He took hold of a smoke grenade, which happened to be red, then pulled the pin and gave it a toss. It landed somewhat short of the treeline, but was a good mark.
“Bogies are south of that red smoke in the treeline, we are closest to the riverbank, copy?”
“Copy that, River Snake, sit tight and get ready to break for the boats.” The comms were also transmitting to Coleman and Rothas’ earpieces, even though the JRA troopers remained ignorant of the communications. Rothas and Coleman passed the word along to their local allies to get ready but continue to fight and keep the insurgents at bay.
The three diminutive LIRCAS attackers came buzzing in low, bursting over the horizon quickly. It didn’t take them long to mark their target line by the red smoke and instructions from Captain Olsen. Within a second, the first rockets were off towards the insurgent ambushers. The treeline lit up with fire as the rockets struck home. 20mm canon fire from the planes followed up the rockets, raking the base of the trees.
Rothas and Coleman fired bursts at HDLF rebels attempting to escape the maelstrom by running out from the foliage and pressing the attack towards the river backed government patrol. Their JRA counterparts followed suit, holding their ground, emboldened by the USG air support. They covered each others’ retreat back to the river, leapfrogging backwards.
As reminded, Olsen got the remaining men, prisoners and mortally wounded JRA trooper back on the boats, while the other two USG troopers and JRA men continued to take turns covering their comrades. Grenades detonated the crates in place so that any follow on insurgents wouldn’t be able to recover the arms.
It was at that moment that Umber flight felt their first real panic. While there was the possibility of small arms fire causing some issues with the low flying aircraft, it wasn’t a large concern. However, RPGs were a whole other level of concern. MANPADS would be even another level for most aircraft, but for LIRCAS turbo prop aircraft that didn’t give off a lot of heat, they weren’t that credible of a threat.
The RPGs streaked up, narrowly missing Umber Three, while two others went further wide, paralleling the river line.
“River Snake One, please bug out soonest.”
Umber One didn’t need to add that the longer they kept over the area, the higher chance a rocket would get lucky. They were circling, despite the heightened danger, but what had been a confident charge in was now three planes doing evasive maneuvers back out. As they were well north of the river, they took a different formation back in, one low, one above and another cutting across, all looking for targets and jinking as much as possible.
“Umber Actual, this is River Snake One. We’re already loaded up and on the water.”
This was true. The gunner on the boat continued to work the MG, raking towards the tree line. The boat was churning brown water as the motor worked to get the boat in reverse. The other two craft had circled back when the fight had started and were also sending fire in.
Were it not for the heavy concentration of fire from the river and the air, the HDLF might have
pursued them to the boats. They motored back towards Panther base as Umber flight completed their second pass over the targets, once again earning two more RPGs coming close to taking out one of the agile CAS aircraft.
Once they were out of the line of fire, the men on the boat began to lighten and untense. A JRA NCO suddenly began shouting in Hindi, pointing at one of the prisoners. The USG men looked at each other, then at their trasnlator/guide. He shrugged back. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand, he just didn’t feel that translation was necessary.
Suddenly, the NCO had a large blade out and was approaching the prisoner. Gene Rothas was on an intercept course. He brought the barrel of his FAR 22 down on the wrist of their JRA ally, knocking the blade skittering across the deck, as well as an anguished shout from the shocked NCO.
For a moment, there was a stand off as Olsen and Coleman leveled their ARs at the reacting JRA men, while also shaking their heads. Coleman spoke first, breaking the thick air,
“Nuh-uh. Sit the fuck down!”
Dhruv, their translator, reluctantly gave the corresponding Hindi.
Captain Olsen looked at his counterpart, a young lieutenant.
“Jayy-zus! We’re gonna have to have a chat back at fucking Panther base. We sure as fuck can’t do
that shit anymore.” He pointed towards the knife.
The boats motored towards shore as the uneasy stand off continued.