Arch-Bishop in Fatal Accident(OPEN)

[Syvorji]

A man said, "Yes, it is for Journeyman Pictures," while the main reporter said, "Since the death of the Arch-Bishop, it seems to be controlled by the Militia, and is currently stamping out all opposition to it's regime, even removing entire families, and erasing them from history." Meanwhile, at their mansion, Savara shouted to the Militia officers, "Why do we deserve to be rounded up like this?" The young grandchildren were crying in fear, and the rest were silent.

[Holy Marsh]

A man said, "Yes, it is for Journeyman Pictures," while the main reporter said, "Since the death of the Arch-Bishop, it seems to be controlled by the Militia, and is currently stamping out all opposition to it's regime, even removing entire families, and erasing them from history." Meanwhile, at their mansion, Savara shouted to the Militia officers, "Why do we deserve to be rounded up like this?" The young grandchildren were crying in fear, and the rest were silent.

The Militia captain sighed.
"The orders come from the Inquisition and have been such since the inception of the Militia as the police force. As for what happened here: This was the household of two criminals who used the date of the death of our Arch-Bishop to further their agenda. Lon Nol attemted to steal explosives and attacked Militia members, and was then shot dead. His brother tried to attack the Holy Warriors guarding the Shrine district using fire and was shot in the lower back. He is currently recovering at a hospital. When the Militia pulled up to execute a search and seizure, the residents demanded we surrender and made a play at resisting. We used gas to cover our entrance and overwhelmed them psychologically. At the same time, the brother was put on the line from his room in the hospital and was critical in helping resolve the situation without bloodshed. And for that, his sentence will be reduced when trial comes.
This has been the way Law and Order has been exercised in this country for generations. The only unusual part of it is that two criminals attempted to use the death of our Arch-Bishop as a means to an end."


Meanwhile, the militia handcuffed and herded the adults into one set of IFVs and drove them away. A few minutes later, Church Special Care Providers arrived and picked up the children. The families would be reunited at some point, but not now. Only two squads of Militia remained when the Seradim approached and started conducting extensive forensic analysis.
************
Lieutenant Gábor had entered the Gladistock Cafe, owned and operated by Mr. Addler Gladistock. The man could be found weeping, head on the counter when the Lieutenant entered. He gave her own sorrowful look up and then his head fell back down, comforted by his wife. Both were thin people, elderly people, Mr. Gladistock bearing the scars of many an unwise decision in his early youth as well as a burn mark on his neck. Mrs. Gladistock's eyes glinted with sadness, pity, and an extreme form of anger.
"How may we help you?" He managed to choke out, his entire body language dedicated to the destruction of his soul.

[Syvorji]

Meanwhile, at a cafe, a man, Chokora Mede, upon hearing of the death, and being a Stalinist was angered that his best friend, Lon Nol, was killed, and eventually calmed down. After finishing his coffee, then he said, "Dear comrades! Since there is no arch-bishop as of yet, I hereby proclaim myself, as Arch-Bishop, and our goal is to transform the nation, under my rule as Arch-bishop into the perfect society," and then sat down, expecting applause. Meanwhile, a person who hated communists, and lived near Lon Nol's mansion, Sei Ma, was so angry she ran out to the road, placed a mat of spikes, just as it came, and then walked back, carefully, so not to step on spikes and/or get run over. She wanted to take the children and whip them with her whip to death, for revenge against the attempted terrorist attacks of Sindahuk Nol and Lon Nol, with the latter killed trying to get weapons for his attack.

[Holy Marsh]

The Church vehicles moved down the road, the children unhappy abd in tears yet not making a dent in the minds of the drivers. They all saw the spiked road up ahead and went down another main street. The lead driver radioed the Militia:
"Hey, uhh, outside of the Gladistock there is a spike strip. See if ya can get rid of it for us."

Meanwhile, Mr. Gladistock took the would-be Arch-Bishop by the throat and squeezed hard.
"Get your ass OUT OF MY CAFE!" He roared before he dragged the man out and tossed him. He went back inside, his nerves rattled, and asked the Lieutenant again:
"How can I be of service?"

[Syvorji]

Sei frowned. "So much for that plan," she thought. Meanwhile, the grandchildren were fearing of their future, and hoped they could see their grandparents and parents again. Meanwhile, Sindahuk began waking up and muttered, "Where am I, comrade?"

[Katonazag]

Holy Marsh City, Holy Marsh
Gladistock Cafe

Lt. Gábor made a mental note about the Syvorjin and his fanatical outburst. Such brazen brandishment of culturally clashing controversy, when an element of violence was added, wasn't something that could be simply discounted.

Though she was in plain civilian clothes comparable to other people out in public, she didn't look like a Marshite. Her skin tone was a couple shades too light, and her hair that hung just past her shoulders had too many red highlights amidst the medium brown. Throwing an Atrean accent in, she replied, "I'll have a cup of tea, the special, and the soup of the day, please."

[Alfegos]

Holy Marsh City

The agent on the rooftop had watched and waited, as the signals programme finally gained the network key. Assembling it in under a second, his laptop had now become privy to all information within the hospital. Using the security camera link, he quickly jumped from view to view, whilst the laptop searched for potentially interesting files. A warning icon flashed as he finished looking - a transmission had just been sent via satellite, picked up on the laptop's integrated sensor. Mesolitic sensors were just able to pick up some satellite broadcasts, however faintly. However, the data that had been sent fitted the profile of something he recognised well from SIGINT training - a Katonazagi BMS transmission.

It had come to his attention as the computer connected that he had been sighted by Holy Marsh agents. That in itself was not advantageous to him - the chatter on the radio had told him as much. But when he saw the vehicles pull up by the base of the building, he knew it was time to go. Leaving the laptop on, he calmly packed the device away, before working out an escape route. The rooftop had an accessway, as was standard on most buildings around here. The building would also have an external fire escape - his target. Peering down, he saw nobody had been left with the cars. He casually stepped off the building's edge, as if pacing out into thin air, landing nimbly on the accessway just below him. He jumped a second time, before making a final leap down. The vehicle rocked as he landed, denting the roof somewhat, yet leaving him perfectly fine - after all, the drop wasn't that great. Pulling himself off, he began walking away as the two helicopters buzzed overhead, moving down the street. He needed somewhere to take refuge for a bit, a crowded place, where he couldn't be picked out.

The sign of Gladistock's Cafe beckoned him in. Within, the place was almost dead, the air of sorrow pretty much summing up the last piece of information he had gleaned on the rooftop - the arch-bishop had passed away. Only one client, foreign from the looks of things, was at the counter. Taking a seat, he quickly stipped off his outer coat, revealing a plain black t-shirt - the standard issue for the Diplomatic Guard, when wearing urban pattern S03 uniforms. He took the oppertunity to tweak his appearance - he removed the hat he had been wearing, and donned a pair of glasses. As a final point, he quickly rummaged in a pocket for something he always carried - his military ID brassard. The armband was black, with a large orange Fego symbol on - identification as a military man of Alfegos. Beneath, written in both the local language and in Fegosian, was the text for "Security". Subtle changes, yet ones that would remove him from incrimination. The tracsuit bag with the rifle was kicked under the table, out of sight - it was now he was regretting having it. Given the chance, he would have to dump it somewhere. His pistol sat on his belt holstered, only visible now his coat had been removed. Overall, if working from the description of helicopter pilots, or those observing from a rooftop, he would not be picked out.

He paced over to the counter, waiting whilst the woman ordered. He knew from a glance, and from the accent, that she was not from around here. The accent was atrean, but with an interesting, perhaps regional flare that he had not heard. It was on certain syllables that he heard that difference, smiling when he heard the start of an unguarded response - that was a Katonazagi accent, however much she tried to hide it. He had found the BMS receipiant - that meant that other nations in the Union had similar motives to him.

[Katonazag]

Holy Marsh City, Holy Marsh
Gladistock Cafe

The man who had walked in was certainly a Fegosian by appearance, the ID dispelling any doubt of what he was supposed to be. Supposed to be, anyhow. That's the problem with being an undercover foreign agent; everybody is suspicious. The bag didn't help, it made a slight clink against the table leg. To most, it would have been near-imperceivable, but to her, it was the sound of a firearm bumping up against something.

Then it dawned on her. Lt. Gábor took out her satellite phone. Sure enough, she had a message, and she hadn't felt the phone vibrate. The simple text message read:

Man from roof is on your position. He made an authorized connection to BMS via ORBCOM.

As if to accent the gravity of the situation, a helicopter roared over nearby. It would only be a matter of time before militia or law enforcement would be rolling through the area looking for him. No doubt they'd question the presence of another foreigner in the restaurant, Fegosian or not. However, movement now would also arouse even more suspicion. The chances of her being discovered had now increased by multiples, yet there was no choice but to wait.

[Holy Marsh]

The Alfegan man had done what he had needed to do to 'escape', but it had been in vain for the most part. This was the Holy Marsh, where security was next to God and God demanded security for his people. There were cameras on every street. When he had jumped onto the roof of a Church vehicle and walked away, a Militia officer watched him the whole time. They watched him walk into the Gladistock cafe. It was less than a minute before the secondary force that had been dispatched to the area was diverted to his exact location, while the initial team trailed.
Two teams of three came from behind the cafe, covering the small alley that was what constituted the back entrance. Five church sedans, four agents each, pulled up down the street and approached the cafe.
The leader of this force was Captain-Priest Josiah Boldin. His small frame was well-toned, his eyes a dark shade of blue, and his face set in stone. He strode into the cafe, flanked by two church agents. All three were dressed in the dark royal purple church uniform and carried L45s. Eight church agents took their positions outside while three teams of three headed up the fire escape on the side of the building.
Boldin sat down as the weeping cafe owner gave the foreigner her order, free of charge- payment was inconsequential in the eyes of the Holy Marsh under such circumstances. Boldin flashed his badge and the man and his wife knew it was best to leave. They did so and soon there was only three foreigners and a gaggle of angry CIS agents.
Boldin looked at the foreign man who held the bag, who had tried to run from them. He knew the face- not in terms of who it was, but what nationality. He had worked with Alfegan intelligence officers before to hunt down some Lardites. Then his mind flipped through all the files they had on the various intelligence officers from Alfegos. The exact name escaped him, though he was sure the man was Joint National Special Headquarters operative. One of the church agents went to the other side of the cafe and poured some coffee, giving it to Boldin. After a sip, he turned to the Alfegan man.
"Ah, black coffee. Not a fan of it. Needs some sugar-" He added some, pleased with the result, "-there we go. Now, onto business. That bag is no longer your property, at least until we discover who orderes you to disrespect our laws, why, and what you have."
As if to underscore that point, an LY219 with a full militia squad pulled up. They poured out and entered slowly.

They were not for the foreigners. They approached the woman who had placed the spike strip.
"Foreigner, you attempted to intrude on the transportation of church personnel. Come with us for questioning."

********
Back in the hospital, the criminal awoke to three armed militia members. A man in a black uniform, his face heavily scarred, approached and leaned over the man who was strapped down.
"You are charged with attempting to attack Holy Warriors using fire. How do you plead?"

[Syvorji]

"I plead innocent," he said. "So, what happened to my family?"

[Holy Marsh]

"I plead innocent," he said. "So, what happened to my family?"

"With your help, your family is safe. They will be questioned and tried, likely given light punishments for resisting a militia punishment. As for your crime, you are found guilty- the cameras saw you, and the Holy Warriors are peerless eyewitnesses. Now, why did you set that fire?"

[Syvorji]

"It was to take revenge on the death of Lon Nol and to finish what he started," with a frown.

[Holy Marsh]

"It was to take revenge on the death of Lon Nol and to finish what he started," with a frown.

"I see. Well, when you were first brought here, your punishment was to be death. However, thanks to your help that allowed the operation to go off without bloodshed as well as your ability to tell the truth, you shall not be put to death. Why did you and your brother choose the day of the death of our Arch-Bishop to enact your foolish plan?"

[Syvorji]

"Because," he said, "if a leader dies, and there is no heir, nor election, someone has to fill in the political vacuum, and we were the ones to do so. So, what are you going to do with the body of Lon Nol?"

[Holy Marsh]

"Because," he said, "if a leader dies, and there is no heir, nor election, someone has to fill in the political vacuum, and we were the ones to do so. So, what are you going to do with the body of Lon Nol?"

"Political vacuum? The Cardinal-Commander takes over while the Council decides who is to be Arch-Bishop. Fools, know your politics before you die. As for his body, it depends. He might be burned, since he is considered a heathen for attacking on the day of the death of the Arch-Bishop. "

[Syvorji]

He nodded and then said, "So, how long were you here?"

[Celtica Morgland]

We shall add some aid

[Holy Marsh]

We shall add some aid

OOC: No aid is needed. If you want to get involved, feel free to have your government send an official telegram marking her passing.

[Katonazag]

Holy Marsh City, Holy Marsh
Gladistock Cafe

When the Church agents walked into the cafe, Lt. Gábor's blood ran cold. She'd expected law enforcement or militia, but they'd responded with agents. Maybe they'd already known who this purported Fegosian was and tailed him accordingly. Either way, they'd gotten too close for comfort. She took her cell phone and casually dialed *#*#7979, which notified ISOC of possible imminent capture, and engaged the encryption lock. Now it would take a swipe from her ID and a 16-digit hexadecimal code to unlock. Her international espionage-quality fake Atrean ID had a hidden security certificate in the bar code, and two unsuccessful attempts at swipe or code would zero out all information on the device as if new from the factory. The Diablo Tactical probably wouldn't be a problem if she declared it if they were going to search her, and she was glad that she'd left the silencer at home today.

She resumed daintily consuming her food, which the sorrowful owner had declared to be on the house. It was quite good, among the best in traditional Marshite comfort food she'd had. Naturally, she'd leave the money on the table before leaving, enough to pay for the meal plus a respectable tip. That is, assuming she would get to leave under even modestly favorable conditions - something that was far from guaranteed at this point.