Posted:
Mon Jun 22, 2020 4:53 am
by Pan-Asiatic States
Bengal and Assam
Rumors had circulated among nationalist and anti-communist circles that a legation from the Neo-Kuomintang had crossed the border and would die to meet a representative from higher places. A tall, Cambodian man, going by the codename "Sphynx" has apparently been in contact with several of Her Majesty's Kawanese government including lower-tier office secretaries and provincial appointees. Not only does he claim to be in possession of valuable strategic information, he also claims to be in collusion with the leaders of the Neo-Kuomintang Revolutionary Army himself.
The establishment of a presence in the border towns and the creation of a cover identity had taken a long time, but now he was virtually safe from MSPS authorities who had been searching for him for the past weeks since his arrival. Posing as an immigrant barkeep, he bides his time until Kawanese, America, or German authorities find it suitable to contact him.
Pan-Asiatic States
Bad weather, mud, and bureaucratic delays had kept the construction of new supply routes superficial - its foundations having barely been laid. Rumors of Neo-Kuomintang recruiters infiltrating the ranks of the thousands of workers imported into Cambodia for the project are rife.
In response to reports of disloyalty and to keep an eye on the progress in the region State outlets have announced that Major-General Amisaki Nobuhisa has been appointed attaché of the Ministry of State and Public Security to the region, and provincial officials rumor that the man has a line of communication direct to the Secretary-General himself.
Several garrisons meant to reinforce counterinsurgency efforts have been delayed by poor weather. A five-mile traffic jam along the national highway ensures that supplies are not as readily available to troops on the ground when requested, much to the dismay of the Pan-Asiatic States Armed Forces. The rain has also grounded the air force and subdued attempts to paradrop supplies and munitions unto poorly-staffed checkpoints.
Posted:
Tue Jun 23, 2020 6:07 pm
by Youstania Firksnerio
To our comrades in the Glorious PAS,
We would like to request support overthrowing the tyrannical Kaiser and his allies in power and putting a Socialist government. As we oppose his dictatorial rule, we have lost a lot of our supplies and people, as the Permanent Revolution is upon us, we try to protect the working-class rights from the bourgeoise dictators
Volkspräsident Freidrich Rommel of the Free Socialist Republics of Austria, Prussia, Bavaria, Rhineland, and Saarland
Posted:
Sat Jun 27, 2020 2:17 am
by Reorganisieren Reichregierung
Fleet Exercise
Pacific Ocean
The OKW has prepared a very special demonstration for the fleet exercise. The fleet units were ordered to leave port and engage in fleet exercises, which meant practicing maneuvers and plinking target ships and drones with missiles. German strategic bombers participated as well, and in a notable episode, the Adolf Hitler flexed her formidable command suite by vectoring a Tu-22M4 carrying an R40 Reichenberg air launched ballistic missile to a cargo ship used as a target using data from the combat air patrol. This action commenced the start of fleet maneuver exercises. But this was not the special demonstration that Germany wanted to show the Pan-Asiatic States.
All the way back in Germany, a hypersonic aircraft, known as the Zero Emission Hypersomic Strategic Reconaissance (ZEHSSR), took to the skies and set off for Pearl Harbor, where it would be refuelled and armed before participating in the fleet exercise.
Posted:
Sat Jun 27, 2020 9:44 am
by The Cardwith Islands
Presidential Residence
Northern Norritts, East Cardwith
After the war for independence, President Nellis had his people scout out a better location for his next residence than the Joint forces base that had more than its fair share of Falkasian troops for his liking. Relations with Falkasia had become strained at the end and after the war. They were staunch allies, but ideological, tactical, and strategic differences had become a growing rift. While still nominally allies, the two nations increasingly didn’t see eye to eye.
They defended him well from the Hutanjian and allied missions sent to assassinate him and the missile and air attacks at the height of the war. However, they had also more than hinted that they might consider him at their mercy, should he step out of turn with them. While Vadim had been subtle, the Falkasian security chief of the base had made it plain that his people could overwhelm Nellis’ security and hold him hostage until he was more compliant with Falkasian policies. It had raised the hackles of all the Cardwithian military officers, aides and government officials who were next in line and called the base home. The chiefs of government needed a new home.
Still, the Falkasians were seen as a steady presence and a defensive force to deter Hutanjian aggression. They weren’t such a menacing presence when it came to the alternative, going back to Hutanjian rule. The Falkasians were also happy to utilize the Cardwiths as their warm water port for operations around the Wishton. There was still a mutual need between them...for now.
Nellis’ people had found an estate up to the north of the city that had a rich history. It was built by the Gaul colonizers, taken over by the Anglos, then became the home of the Island’s Governor when the Hutanjians had ruled over them.
It had been vacant of a master for a couple years, but still tended by the locals who had been the service staff. How or why they had continued on without funding or direction was a bit of a mystery, but they did. When confronted by UFF guerrillas during the early days of the revolt, the staff had professed their apolitical nature, just wanting to be left alone. As happened in the heat of war, incidents occurred. Two of the female staff had been raped and one older codger of a butler had been shot down, but then the ‘liberators’, tiring of the games and called to action elsewhere, had left them to their devices.
News that Nellis himself would be the next occupant had neither highly excited the remaining staff, but neither had it discouraged them. They would be satisfied enough to serve a new master, who ironically had toiled to rid the nation of such trappings of lords and servants. They were now employed by the state and the UFF party. Besides Nellis’ staff, plenty of military and government officials had set up offices on the estate in order to be close to the policy making.
The Falkasians and several ISC allies had also offered to set up outposts on the Presidential estate in order to facilitate relations and be future command centers in case of another outbreak of war with Hutanjia. Nellis and his cabinet had politely refused every advance they made. Such joint conferencing could be done the few kilometers to the south at the joint forces base. Wasn’t that part of its purpose, after all?
They sat on a veranda overlooking gardens that were tended by some of the resident gardeners. Lelah swept her frizzy hair out of her eyes. Some strands of it were going grey, despite being still in her thirties and a good few years from middle age. She looked over at Charles. He looked so frail now, and he moved quite slow, if deliberately. His cane sat hooked on the edge of the table.
“I am so happy to see you, Lelah. It’s been a long time since you have come to visit me. You always send your deputies to report.”
She put down the tea cup.
“I have been busy, you know. Operations have taken all my time. For a long time, Mr. President.”
“You haven’t called me ‘Papa’ in a long time.”
“My real papa is back on Kenega. I’m not young or naive anymore.” He knew what she was inferring. “Besides, we have titles now, the both of us.”
“You have time for your Falkasian? That black haired, pasty spy?”
“Pasty? Illyich?”
“Oh ho, he has a name now!”
“He always has, just never seen the need to discuss it with you. We see each other. Not very frequently. We have an arrangement. Also, for the record, he tans quite nicely for a northern Tavlyrian.”
The President narrowed his eyes as he sipped at his own drink.
“I still think you do your best to stay away from here. From me.”
“You can think what you want, sir. Fact of the matter is that what we do doesn’t need much direction. You have the Party Council dictating to me. More and more, I’m getting orders from the Chairman, too.”
“Ech...Obelanka. You take orders from me, and yes, the Council, but not him. You take suggestions from him. We aren’t subordinate to the ISC Central Committee. We do things on behalf of the Congress because we choose to do so.”
Lelah was well aware that Nellis was once good friends with Trevor Obelanka from the early revolutionary days and had appointed him to the position of Representative of the Cardwiths to the International Socialist Congress. Even heavily suggest him for the Central Committee and the Chairman position. Still...when Obelanka’s political power had begun to eclipse Charles’ in terms of international stature, he had become very resentful and dismissive of his friend.
“I’m only going off your original direction, Mr. Presid…”
At that moment, Director Hugo Kadapke of the CID was led through to the veranda area. Neither Director Lelah Marousha, nor the President bothered to stand up. She had no desire to give Kadapke such a gesture and the President wouldn’t go through the ordeal of standing up and sitting back down and getting situated comfortably again, with the state he was in.
Kadapke made a nod to Lelah, and a small bow to President Nellis, who verbally acknowledged him.
“Hugo, so nice of you to join us.”
“I apologize, Mr. President. I had some very important business to tend to.”
“There always is.”
“That is the truth, sir.”
When a resident staff approached with tea, he put up a hand to refuse, ordering something stronger.
“Rum.”
“Lelah and I were just discussing how much of our operations are taken up by the ISVC’s dictates.”
“Uh...Well...Dictates, sir? They do tend to count on us for a lot of resources. Albeit, operative more than intelligence resources, so I think her Directorate is more effected than mine.”
Lelah internalized her annoyance. She knew where this was going and had had this discussion several times before with the man who wanted her to call him ‘Papa’. The man who had been her godfather and good friend of her parents, who had promised to take her to a better life, but led her onto a twisted path instead.
“We work with the ISVC, and the Congress, because they work with us. We benefit from the mutual alliance. Trade and power. We have extended our power immensely through the ISC. Also, we helped to establish the Congress. Isn’t it a matter of prestige?”
Nellis shrugged instead of answering her. He folded his hands on the table and turned to Kadapke.
“Do you feel that way too, Director?”
“Honestly, sir? I guess. We don’t deal with the ISVC as much, even though we send some of our field officers to assist and some of our personnel are in Bratislava. Our operations benefit, and have given benefit, but...we also have so much of our own going on. Maybe...we’re just not as given over to ISVC operations. We’re not just an extension of their policy.”
“You are suggesting that PASD is?”
“More than the Intelligence Directorate, yeah. Sorry to say, but you’re all bitches now for the ISVC, Lelah. At least until you’re more needed back home, which might be never.”
She stood up, her old field agent instincts briefly rising to the forefront as she considered reaching for the dagger in her boot, not for the first time. They had to work with CID, no matter what, though.
Nellis waved her down, but turned towards Kadapke.
“Hugo, I suggest you be a little more respectful of your former directorate...the one you helped build.”
Hugo snorted.
“The one that I helped mentor her for taking over the leadership?”
If there was one thing that she hated most about Kadapke among many things, it was that he touted his so-called ‘mentorship’ as if it was fact, when it was far from the truth. When he was tapped to lead the new CID, he had many of his cronies that he wanted to replace him as PASD Director, including that repugnant beetle, Mitenka, who now ran CSD. It was Nellis who stepped in to advocate for her and overrule Kadapke in naming a replacement director.
He continued,
“No, I wouldn’t dream of being disrespectful, but I think we’re both aware that since the inception of PASD, our earliest clandestine service, the mission has shifted from independence at all costs to a more subtle approach needed to extend both our power and defend ourselves from threats not just within the Wishton, but beyond. I do think that my new Directorate is a little more equipped to handle such a mission as that, while PASD has tended to fulfill a unique role with the ISVC that it can no longer perform in home waters.”
Lelah sat back down in a rough slump.
“Subtle. That’s rich, Hugo. The people you recruited were the worst psychopaths to be found in the isles. They were brutal, not just to the Hutanjians, but to our own civilians, many who later turned out to be innocent...posthumously. Your top crews were the worst to be unleashed in the Wishton. You didn’t leave me much ‘subtle’ to work with.”
“They were a tool needed at the time...In those early days. I’m not going to apologize for them, or my choices in getting us to independence, other than to say I think you’re exaggerating. Besides, those that survived the war work for CSD for the most part now.”
“This is true, and I made sure to flush out those who didn’t want to leave…” (She had sent many of them on unsurvivable missions at the end of the war to North Cardwith and Northern Nesselberg; helping to further put the Hutanjians into chaos and ensure that the thug teams were eliminated or captured. A win-win for her.) If there was one thing that Marousha and Kadapke could agree upon it was that CSD was the most depraved and ruthless of the Cardwithian clandestine services “...although...are you saying now that you didn’t bring any of these thugs with you to CID?”
“Some missions call for such assets, yes. Are you saying that PASD is now totally alabaster under your leadership and innocents and civilians are never targeted or harmed? Because…”
“Directors!” Nellis said it in a way that a parent would say the word ‘Children’ to get their kids to stop misbehaving.
“This is not why I called you here to debate whose toys and friends are better. They are all equally exciting and atrocious! You are here because we have yet another mission for you.”
Lelah spoke first, leaning forward,
“We?”
“Yes, The Party Council, and the Cabinet. Would it be more desirable coming from me?”
His look was indiscernible.
Kadapke cut to the point,
“What is it, sir?”
Nellis cleared his throat, letting out a nasty hacking cough. Both Lelah and Hugo raised their eyebrows.
“Ahem...As you may know, our ally, The Pan-Asiatic States, is suffering another spate of internal unrest. A lot of foreign capitalist/imperialist involvement is suspected in funding, arming and training the rebels and dissidents. A lot of the troubles, but not all, are focused around the Cambodian state. Something about Neo-Kuomintang rebels...
The Pan-Asiatic States reached out to us and other ISC allies to help them in tracking the money and arms trails, as well as running counter ops on foreign imperialist agents and these Neo-KMT agents.
I would like for us to coordinate with their services, such as this Special Police Force, in hunting down the rebels and the foreign agents aiding them.”
Lelah smiled.
“Oh, sounds like a typical ISVC job. They reached out?”
“Through direct diplomatic channels and through the ISVC, yes.”
Kadapke frowned.
“I wonder why their intel didn’t just reach out to CID? We cooperate with them all the time, as a matter of course.”
“This was more of a plea directly to us for some enhanced cooperation beyond what we already do for allies.”
Lelah shrugged.
“I’m sorry Mr. President, but PASD can’t do it. Not out of any principle, of course...We’d love to help one of our staunchest allies out and we often work with the Pan-Asiatic States, but simply due to the fact that we have no more resources or assets to give in this instance. Every team I have is already deployed out for domestic missions in the isles, or on ISVC missions. Our budget is stretched thin.”
Nellis pondered that for half a minute, and Kadapke didn’t interrupt.
“Yes, I suppose so. I can’t ask you to commit trained personnel that aren’t available or pull them from other missions…”
Hugo chose then to speak, “Well, you could…”
“Speak for yourself, Hugo. Every one of our missions is vital to the security of the DSRC, including those ISVC missions for the greater world socialist revolution.”
While PAST cells were attached to a handful of CAIF-ISVC missions in several locales like Jaragupta, Lusitania, and Saint Andre, the ISVC were operating on a much larger scale with other member personnel in probably about half the hot spots around the globe at any given moment.
“Again the question of who is pulling the strings? Are you just an ISVC tool?”
“Aren't the CID just a tool of the FSIS (Falkasian Secret Intelligence Service)?”
Nellis waved them both down.
“Calm yourselves. I don’t think this is really an operation that calls for kinetic action, anyway. Not at this point. Also, Hugo, I do want you to run by me these FSIS ‘favors’, I think you call them? We need to move away from that.”
“I take it your last talk with President Kayzenko didn’t go well?”
Nellis shook his head.
“We have never seen eye to eye ideologically, but we had a strong mutual relationship. Now that we have stronger ties to ISC nations who are of a closer mindset, that relationship with Falkasia is just not as important as it was. We will be forever indebted to Falkasia for their help during our struggle, but the continuing military and political alliance may need to be put on ice, or severed altogether.”
“What about all their forces stationed here?”
“It’s tricky. There may be a sort of Guantanamo situation where they hold onto the Norritts base and a couple others regardless of our sentiments. We do owe them.”
Lelah had her own thoughts on that. She knew there were some top DSRC military officers who would not want to see the alliance with Falkasia be severed.
“Well getting back to this mission then, if it’s the case that this isn’t a kinetic action mission, Mr. President, no offense, but...Why am I here? I mean, sending a PAST cell or even select individual assets, to do a simple recon or counter-espionage mission is a bit of overkill, after all.”
“Because I want you to be aware that if the mission escalates, we may still have need of your Directorate’s services. And yes, I may ask you to pull a team from another mission when it comes down to it. Additionally, I’d like you to cooperate with CID and give over to them any intelligence about internal Pan-Asian matters you possess, if you haven’t already.”
Kadapke mused,
“We could definitely use any intel you have, but as far as sending a PAST, don’t bother. CID have our own kinetic action/black ops teams. We won’t be needing yours, should it come to that.”
“Suit yourself. I’m all for staying out of it and CID actually making themselves useful for a change.”
“You always have to get one last barb in, don’t you?” Hugo turned to President Nellis. “Sir, would we have to report to the ISVC on this?”
“Eh, no, that won’t be necessary. I’d like you to coordinate with them and share relevant information, but you’ll be reporting directly to the Party and the Cabinet. We will have control over this operation.”
“Who is going to brief me in on the particulars?”
Nellis reached into his pocket with a visibly trembling hand, to pull out a folded over memo slip.
“Some lad officer over in their Special Police Force. This is his contact information.”
“Very good.”
Director Marousha stood up.
“Am I still needed here, sir? I have a lot of operations to check up on. I will pass on what relevant intel we have to Director Kadapke.”
President Nellis eyed her with an annoyed look.
“No. Both of you can go. I’m tired and I need a nap. I have told you all you need to know. No matter what Trevor (Obelanka) says, the Pan-Asiatic States are still an immeasurably important ally. Make it happen.”
The two younger directors stood straighter to attention.
“Yes, sir.”
They then made their way off the veranda.
Posted:
Mon Jul 06, 2020 8:38 am
by Pan-Asiatic States
Bengal and Assam
In the quiet town of Tinsukia, a barkeep in a colorful floral t-shirt serves his customers. There is an ample crowd present - a group of students discuss happenings at their university in one corner, businessmen enjoy a round of beer in another, and a couple across the room watches attentively, the television that hangs by the bar.
The news channel flashes a transitioning graphic. A special report on current events featuring pro-democracy Filipino protestors in Bengal and Assam, as well as statements by key politicians of the Kawanese government follows. The Secretary-General of the Pan-Asiatic States' recent speech on the passage of the Anti-Terrorism Law by the Federal Congress is rebutted by Kawanese experts and analysts. The couple watching nods in agreement with the Kawanese speakers almost instinctively.
Outside, passerbys go about their night, attending to phone calls and lining-up for taxis. A full moon illuminates the dim street much better than the flickering street-lights on both ends of the road.
A green light flashes, and suddenly, the empty streets are abuzz with the revving of four cars speeding towards the bar, stopping in front of it in a disorderly fashion. A dozen armed gentlemen emerge from the vehicles, breaching the door and holding everyone inside at gunpoint. Screams of fear and panic erupt upon the customers' realization that something that would certainly make the news was about to begin.
One of the armed men toss a smoke grenade. Believing it to be poison gas, several customers rush out the bar. Others ensue. The men hold their fire. They approach the barkeep.
"Katayin niyo na," orders a smirking Filipino in a bullet-proof vest, seemingly the leader of the group. The intruders open-fire. The smoke clears and reveals five shots to the barkeep's rib-cage. "We got Sphynx, over," expresses the group's leader to the radio velcro-strapped to his chest.
The barkeep falls face-first to the ground, as blood stains his shirt and spreads across the floor. He can barely breathe, but he tries to hide the fact that he remains alive, from the men who had just shot him. His acting seems to have worked. The intruders rush out the door and leave him for dead.
To the sound of wailing police sirens, the armed men make their escape, rushing to cross the Bengali-Asiatic border before they are caught by the authorities.
Posted:
Tue Jul 07, 2020 4:56 am
by Bengal and Assam
As the police arrived, they found a trashed up bar. Asking people to point out the direction the perpetrators went was of no use. Due to the ancient nature of the town, the streets branched out like trees. By the time they could ask the Traffic Department for information from CCTV footage, the perpetrators would’ve disappeared. Plus, there were traumatised university students to handle. The older people who have completed their National Service, although struck, were more composed, so they gave much more information.
“So Mr.Funehara, lets run through your statement again, you saw 4 cars, black, rolling up to the bar at high speed. About 10-12 people got out, and ‘SWATed’ the bar?” asked Inspector Seo
“Yes. The bar was pretty new, and the bartender was a refugee from the PAS. I thought he was up to something illegal from the very moment he set up a bar here, I thought my suspicions came true until I saw smoke and people rushing out, and the gunmen leaving in haste without anybody in handcuffs. And also their weapons didn’t seem to be of British or Kawanese standard. I handled all sorts of small arms and shotguns during my 2 years in the army, was an assistant in weapons handling. As far as I know, in this country, you can only have the weapons you used during National Service, that too bought from the Forces.”
“Sir.” Said one of the senior Sergeants surveying the damage “We found someone. The bartender, he’s alive. Although barely. Bullet wound, Only victim.”
“What the fuck are you wasting time for? Get him in the ambulance and take him to the hospital, straight to the emergency room. And what do you mean by only victim? The Reds can’t stand to see anyone have a pint, they would shoot up the entire bar. Did the Muzzies wise up, or is something wrong here?” Seo thought “Alright, how about you wrap up things over here, and I head to Central, the traffic department? I will stop by the hospital after that.”
Central“Inspector Seo, the Chief is available.” said the secretary in the waiting room outside the Police Chief’s office. As he was making his way to Traffic, the Superintendent of his precinct made him responsible for the investigation over the attack. As he was entering the office, two men in military attire made way for the door after a meeting with the Chief.
“Inspector Seo reporting SIR!.” He said with a sharp salute as he stopped in front of the only desk in the room, sitting down as the Chief pointed towards the chair.
“As you just saw while entering this room, the military has got involved. They say it’s a Counter-Terrorism Op. However, since not much information is available right now, they are letting us keep the case in our hands, and by ours I mean yours, provided that every single piece of detail you find ends up in their hands. So, mind telling me what you know?”
“Yessir. This attack seems to be targeted. Normally, when the Reds hit up a bar, they kill everyone due to their Islamist beliefs forbidding alcohol. But in this case, they just shot the bartender, leaving everyone else alive. They also left in haste, not even wiping out the CCTV footage or shooting up the cameras before the operation like the Nativists usually do. I showed the footage from the bar to an Old-Bengali language expert in my precinct, and he said that it’s not Nativist, rather possibly of foreign origin or dialect. And also, the bartender, whom I think is the target, survived. The footage from the traffic department showed that the hitmen went straight East, either abandoning their car or going off road between cameras. Police are heading there as we speak And also, the bartender survived, although he was in a critical condition due to bullet wounds as he was taken to the hospital 3 hours ago, he’s stable now after Operation.”
“Good, that’s a good amount of information for an unfolding case that’s just begun. Close this case properly and I will personally ensure your promotion. Your competency should be used in a more... higher position. I will inform our friends in the Military about it. One of them will meet up with you at the hospital.”
“Sir.” Said Seo with a smile, “I am better off in the field. I have no need for a promotion, with me stuck behind a desk. However, I would like to know about the military guy I would be dealing with.”
“Hmm… You will be meeting with Lieutenant Seamus McCannan, HMIntelService. He will help us out with this investigation. And may even lead it if you screw it over on our end, god forbid it comes to that. Don't let this department down.”
Posted:
Wed Jul 15, 2020 9:35 am
by Bengal and Assam
“Hello and welcome to RFA News, I am Erin Lau. Coming to you with this breaking news, while wishing you all a heartily welcome.
Reports come in from a small town just above Minato, Tinsuikiya, about a horrifying shootout just a few miles off the town centre. According to bystanders a bar got shot out, although the number of victims is not currently clear. Oliver Ito reports live from Tinsukiya.”
Oliver“A quiet average night turned into a nightmare. The small town of Tinsukiya, originally considered a rural just north of the capital, its population has steadily increased as the Kawanese economic boom set in, and property prices in Minato increased.
This town 20,000 has never faced a terrorist attack, and fears that the events of last night might be the first Nativist hit on this little community.
The amount of uncertainty surrounding the attack is also contributing to this fear as the police refuse to release any statement, and as the Armed Police have established checkpoints since this morning.”
Posted:
Mon Jul 20, 2020 8:09 pm
by The Cardwith Islands
Kavunga Joint Forces Base, North Cardwith
The team was all strapping in to their seats, 14 men and women, all in civilian garb. Their bags and cases were stuffed with tactical and electronics gear strapped down in the middle of the military cargo plane of the DSRCAF, between the two rows of jump seats on either wall of the cabin.
Their leader had yet to board, beckoned off the plane at last minute. Major Jennings Butangka was not a particularly tall man, nor was he a particularly handsome one by most conventional standards. Skin conditions had ravaged his face at an earlier age, and the pock marks had formed a sort of scar tissue beard around his face. The base tarmac lights made the small scar ridges glisten, and also pronounced the shadows of the craters.
What Major Butangka was was unceasingly loyal and faithful to his family, friends, and comrades. He was a resolute professional in his craft, both as an analyst and a field officer. As well, he could be a saboteur when needed, thanks to the independence war against Hutanjia that he and many of his still serving comrades had survived. He was an extremely capable leader that knew when to charge from the front, and when to delegate. He knew how to inspire loyalty and make every team member feel valued, even when their value might be a little less than others.
He stood on the tarmac, told to wait, but for what, he wasn’t sure. He had a cigarette lit and was enjoying it immensely. It was a Ruita, a harsher, low quality domestic brand. He was used to it after decades, unlike some of his pretentious colleagues who imported tobacco from Teremara and elsewhere around embargoes to suit their tastes.
A jeep raced up from around a corner of one of the hangars. Within seconds, Major Butangka identified Director Kadapke, his boss and that of all his CID colleagues in the passenger seat. They pulled up level to him, several meters off from the plane. The driver wore camo fatigues of the pattern worn by the CPA (Cardwithian People’s Army), but there were no rank or unit identifiers on the fatigues, which meant he was likely a CID grunt.
Kadapke stepped out and took a couple steps towards Butangka.
“Smoking around all the jet fuel, eh? That is bold.”
“Yes, sir. For my big trick, I’m hoping to flick the spent butt right on top of a fuel drum when I’m finished.”
Such sarcasm would get many men canned from the CID, but Butangka wasn’t many men. He was one of the Director’s right hand men and had earned a lot of trust.
Kadapke showed a slight smirk to acknowledge the humor.
“Was there something we missed, sir? I was pretty sure that we covered the mission in our brief over the secured comm link.”
They began to walk a few steps away together from both the plane and jeep.
“I wanted to reiterate some of what we talked about. As you know, I felt that we could perform this mission from right here in the Islands, as well as some of our stations abroad. I still am not sure that any actual HUMINT or kinetic action is necessary...”
“But the President felt differently?”
“The Pan-Asians actually insisted we send teams to work with their Special Police and counter terrorism task forces. So, of course, the President insisted, in turn. It’s a show of good will and solidarity. Not just between our two nations, but for the whole ISC alliance. Of course, none of my hesitance needs to be communicated to your hosts.”
“Of course not, sir. I wouldn’t think of mentioning it.”
“The other thing I wanted to say is that I’d like for you to gather as much other hands on deep intelligence about the Pan-Asians as your team can while they are there.”
“About our allies?”
“Allies for now. Just like the Falkasians. In both cases, we never know when we will need an exploitable edge to get the upper hand. The more information we can gather, the stronger that we will be. How do they operate? What are the weaknesses of their strategy? How many internal groups actually oppose them?”
“We will add that to the mission parameters.”
“Nothing recorded or transmitted.”
“Right. Yes, sir.”
“Ultimately, they are our allies now, and that will remain unchanged for some time, I’m sure.”
“Er...Was that all, sir?”
“Go. With the wind at your back. For the People. For the Islands. For the Revolution.”
Butangka came to attention, and the Director did a beat later, as well. Saluting wasn’t a thing in the CID, as they weren’t a military organization, but this was the closest they came to officially respecting superiors.
Then, the Director was already hopping back in the jeep and motioning the driver to step on it. His was a job that required constant attention at all hours, and he surely had to move on to the next operation on his list.
Butangka climbed back up the stairs, and an AF crewman retracted them. The doors were all closed and latched and the plane’s engines revved as it prepared for takeoff. The Major strapped himself in one handed and nodded to all of his team who were staring at him with some concern.
“Everything is fine. Just some last minute instructions.”
They all nodded and the plane began to speed down the runway. A military cargo plane departing Kavunga wasn’t an odd occurrence at any hour. Kavunga had become an ISVC hub for continuing to send forces to Gahana and Jaragupta, as well as some other hotspots in the region and beyond.
It would land in a few hours at an allied ISVC base, where they would bus to the civilian airport and board another flight, this one a regularly scheduled commercial flight that would make two connections to eventually end up in Phnom Penh in The Tri-Interregional Popular Republic of Indochina, Pan-Asiatic States.
In this way, they would enter the country under moderate cover. While their Melanesian complexions might be obvious, and even their Cardwithian nationality suspected, their covers as a trade delegation from the Democratic Socialist Republic should still hold up to some scrutiny. More than they would arriving in a military cargo plane, anyway.
From there, they would link up with Daimyō-Heneral Felipe Arcilla III, the Commander of the Indochinese Counter-Terrorism Task Force for the People's Peacekeeping Army of the Pan-Asiatic States Armed Forces. They would then coordinate with the Indochinese CTTF and any of the specially formed police task forces in the area.
Posted:
Mon Jul 20, 2020 9:42 pm
by Nacrad
MANIFESTO OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF THE CANTON DEMOCRATIC FORCES
Proclaimed 12:30 Hong Kong Time at Victoria Park
Over the years, the so-called Pan-Asiatic States have, undeniably, turned this formerly beautiful city into a police state at best and a literal hell at worst. Having seen that, we, the Cantonese People, do hereby gather at Victoria Park to proclaim the establishment of the Canton Democratic Forces.
In regards to the recent civil movements in Hong Kong, Canton, among other cities, the movements are only to rally for the basic human rights that us, the protestors, have been rallying for. However, seen as the Pan-asiatic States have not answered our demands whatsoever, we have no choice but to step up and take more drastic measures. On behalf of all oppressed peoples, we hereby pledge to bring the long-deserved freedom and democracy.
The fundamental corruption of all societal and civil functions have been unacceptable. The rotten institutions have killed many front-line workers, most notably the medical staff, who have been working tirelessly. Alas, the Pan-Asiatic States' Government have not respected them, instead using secret police to prosecute those who voiced their opposition to certain policies.
And hence do we abhor the institution of the Pan-Asiatic States. Give us freedom, or give us death!
Posted:
Mon Jul 20, 2020 9:49 pm
by Nacrad
"LIBERATE CANTON!" "REVOLUTION OF OUR TIMES!"
"GIVE US FREEDOM!" "OR GIVE US DEATH!"
The protestors, most of them clad in black, cheered. The protestors in Hong Kong marched to the People's Government Complex in Central, and started chanting their slogans, while those in Guangzhou did the same to the Guangzhou Government Complex.
The local police, of course, did not tolerate them. Not long after, the police force showed up. They opened fire with tear gas, beanbag rounds, and finally, live rounds. This enraged the protestors, who now started to lob molotov cocktails against the police and the government complex.
Meanwhile, the opposition is setting up a secret insurgent force in Sai Kung along with local gangs, but no one knows that yet...