[TWI Only] [IC] [Semi-Open] The High Life

[Ainslie]

The High Life (IC)

A multinational criminal organisation has introduced a new highly dangerous drug to the markets. Governments must act now in order for major consequences to be mitigated.

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IC

There has always been illicit drugs in the black markets of Gael, but recently new drugs have been entering the markets. A new street drug known as "Buzz", a form of crystal methamphetamine has been leading to overdoses, deaths as well as various other serious and adverse consequences. Following the death of an Ahnslen teenager, Ainslie is motioned to investigate the unusual and suspicious death leading to the uncovering ofthe wider issue of Buzz in Ainslie. As other nations are also affected by Buzz, the investigation widens to an extent where it crosses borders and continents. A deeply rooted organisation is exposed - highlighting governmental ineffectiveness, corruption and even public officials being members of said organisation. This incident will eventually lead to the formation of the Multinational Anti Drug Smuggling Authority (MADSA).

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OOC

Alright, a few things I'd like to highlight.
1. Just don't post on this thread unless you've been given the okay from Samudera or I.
2. If you want to jump into this RP, telegram me - don't just jump in.
3. MADSA is not counted as part of this RP, so applications for entry into the organisation will be available and open to all TWI members.
4. Please post according to this schedule

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IC Posting Schedule (this does not include news posts)

Saturday 29th of September: Samudera - IC: Post 1
Sunday 30th of September: Verona Beach - IC: Eyes of a Drug Runner Pt1
Friday 13th of October: Lardingo - IC Post
Sunday 15th of October: Lardingo - IC Post 2
Thursday 27th of October: Lardingo - COPAD minority fillibusters the "Buzz bill"
Sunday 29th of October: Bravo Rio - IC Post 1
Monday 30th of October: Lardingo - IC: DOLE employee leaks emails
Thursday 2nd of November: Ainslie - IC: Justice Kentarre joins Judicial Inquiry
Saturday 4th of September: Bravo Rio IC: The Execution of Jonathan
Saturday 11th of November: Ainslie - IC: Recommendations handed down
Saturday 11th of November: Lardingo - IC: Drug production centre discovered

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Posts

Part One - Discovery

Festivals highlight new methamphetamine
Amphetamine-Related Deaths Spur Investigations
Increasing Overdose Hospitalizations Scare Health Officials
Video Posted of Schoolkid Getting ‘High’ on New Street Drug
Mother's plea moves nation
Highland Ridge - The Festival
Highland Ridge - The Aftermath
The Lifesaver
Eyes of a Drug Runner
Morrow District, Lardingo

Part Two - Connecting the Dots

Cases of “Buzz” overdose rise in southern Stiura, authorities on the hunt for smugglers.
Minister of Health to hold conference with Ainslie

Part Three - Following the chain

Wilton demands Keverai to release bank info
Keverai info leaked
Keverai demands Ainslie to extradite hacker
Suspicious financial transfer found by police
PM criticises Keveran Government
DOLE clears groups suspected of drug smuggling
Bravo Rio's response to accusations
Para Volar

Part Four - Breaking the chain

DOLE employee leaks emails between head of DOLE and Vice Executive, claims VE bribed DOLE to close drug probe.
Judicial Council opens inquiry
Justice Kentarre joins Judicial inquiry
Supreme Court orders investigations to continue

Part Five - The Judicial Witch Hunt

• Information about investigated ministers revealed
• The Execution of Ajay
• The death of a leader
• Dozens arrested in investigation
• Supreme court opens investigation
• Drug production center discovered
• MADSA bill introduced
• Fillibuster of buzz bill broken

Please do not tag this thread.

[Ainslie]

24 September 2017
Highland Ridge, Wesland, Ainslie
~9:30am

The sun was beaming through the old blinds, highlighting the frost which was on the ground. Jennifer lifted herself out of bed, noticing the strong draught that now managed to get through her windows, making the room significantly colder than the rest of the house. She called out to her mum, “Mum, can we turn the aircon on?”. Janine responded back to Jennifer to indicate a no. It looked like a cold day outside as the frost was beginning to melt off of the leaves. She lived in Highland Ridge (HR), one of the coldest areas of Ainslie. Despite this, she was excited for tonight. Tonight was “Frosto”, a well known music festival that she managed to convince her mum to let her go to.

The downside of it was that she had to go with her older brother, Chris, who could keep an eye on her. The autumn leaves were dancing as they made their descent from the trees above to the street she was walking along. It was a Saturday, meaning that many people were inside their homes, spending time on aimless projects and ideas. Jennifer was on a mission this morning. She had to get ready for the festival tonight. She walked past the park which was almost completely set up for the occasion. The excitement continued to mount during the day, until she finally got back home. She walked through the door her mother opened, blissfully unaware of the rush her mother had been the whole day. She worked full time at a local bakery, leaving her weekends to be mainly comprised of cleaning and housework - their father was doing fly in fly out mining work at an open cut mine many kilometres west of Highland Ridge.

It was his two weeks on at the mine, which was lucky for Jennifer as he would never approve her going to such an event as tonight. As a child, he had overly liberal parents and he resented them for the sometimes crazy decisions they made. His major parenting ethos was not to be like his parents and thus took a more authoritarian, yet still caring tone.

The festival was only a few blocks away from her house so her and her brother decided to walk, noting the amount of alcohol that will most likely be at the festival. That part, they did not tell their parents.

The music was blaring, one could feel the bass in their bones as an incredible amount of young people congregated in the park. Jennifer mentioned to Chris, “I didn’t think HR had that much young people… thought this was oldietown”
“Apparently not.”

What followed was almost two hours of synchronised jumping. Jennifer and Chris felt a little tired so they left the standing area to take a small walk and relax a little. Whilst they were walking, someone of near to exact age to Jennifer was walking the other way and quickly gave her a note and a packet whilst Chris was looking the other way momentarily.

“This will keep you going”, read the note.

Desperate to keep a great night continuing, she motioned to open the bag when Chris stopped her, exclaiming that she had no clue what was in that. Despite her brother’s best efforts, she managed to get it into her mouth and swallow it.

The world for five minutes looked more vibrant than it ever had, as shifting kaleidoscopes switched around in her head and through it. She was ready to party. Chris stood there, watching her convulsing and then fall to the ground. Chris immediately yelled at someone to call a medic.

Within 15 minutes, Chris and Jennifer were at Ridge Base Hospital. Jennifer had regained consciousness only to transition into a state of extreme agitation, punching the medical professionals around her. This stage also involved a near miss towards her brother. Chris was horrified, but unable to call his parents since the situation was developing at such a fast pace. He needed to be in the moment and beside her, who knows what could happen.

At 2am, Janine Revire received a knock at the door. Three police officers arrived at her door.

“Chris was involved in an evolving situation at the festival… he’s at Ridge Hospital and is fine. Your daughter… appears to have taken a substance likened to a crystal methamphetamine… she had an allergic reaction to whatever she ingested… our deepest condolences to you from the Ridge ERTs as a whole. If you are up to it, we can take you to the hospital.

“Please”, she barely got out of her mouth before breaking into tears. The police led her to the car as they drove towards the hospital.

[Ainslie]

25 September 2017
Highland Ridge, Wesland, Ainslie
12:00am

The bright, clinical hallways of the Ridge Base Hospital distressed Janine as the police led her around corners and eventually towards a more open room. Chris sat on a hospital bed, his tears dripping of his hands as he had them covered around his head. Janine ran towards Chris, before he motioned to her to sit next to him instead.

He blubbered, “She took some white tablet… it was so quick… she was on the ground and now she is here. I don’t think they could save her”

“To be frank, I think she was gone before the ambulance reached the park.”

The guilt of Chris mounted as he recalled the event to his mother, lamenting that he could’ve done something - could’ve done more, that this was all preventable. Her mother stated to him that the decisions he made there were the right ones, and even if they weren’t he can’t hang himself on them. She made the decision to take it and it was good that he showed resistance to the concept.

“Now I need to go to the nurse. I’ll be back”

Chris watched as her mother’s face went from concerned to downright distraught as the nurse, another teenager and a police officer sat around a table, discussing the events. A nurse walked up to Chris and sat down next to him, comforting him until his mother could return. His mother soon walked off to a telephone nearby, he knew what was coming next.

Janine stood there, rapidly weakening as the phone on the other end was constantly being redirected from one office to the next. After two minutes of transfer, a harsh voice sounded on the other side of the line. He had been down below in the mines recently and had been in the middle of a deep, peaceful sleep. A call at 5am was one you did not want, and he knew something was going on.

“Hi hun…”
“Hi hus”

Hus was an affectionate name she used for him which was a shortening of the word husband, which was an attempt to compose herself, but it was clear to Hugo, the husband, that the news couldn’t have been good out of Highland Ridge that morning as Janine began to explain the situation.

Hugo stopped her mid sentence to intervene.

“I’m coming back. Right now. “

He continued his sleep at the airstrip ‘terminal’, determined to get the next plane. He outlined what he knew of the situation to his superiors and the next flight out he was on. As he walked through the tiled corridors of Highland Ridge Airport, he had been on the phone to a Go-Tor driver, who was to take him to the hospital. Local taxis were patchy at best, and often limited to the city and inner suburbs as they shuttled people to various train stations.

It was a humbling experience for him, going on the motorbike through the city. The early morning sun shon as it was rising over the mountains to the north, but he could not quite focus on it all. He had reached the hospital within 20 minutes, reconsidering his previously critical views towards Go-Tor. He walked calmly through the corridors, being led by the same policemen who guided Janine. Janine, Hugo and Chris all sat on the hospital bed, staring out towards a heart rate measuring device sitting in the corner of the room. All three of them knew what happened now. The emotions, the deep grey cloud of grief which had landed on all three of them explained more than words could ever do.

They had lost a light in this word, a hopeful, joyful soul. It could never be returned to them. A part of their family had been lost forever now at the grips of one, small tablet.

[Samudera]

School had been a perpetual cycle of boredom for many years now. When he was younger, school was always the number one priority. People kept on saying that “If you go to school, you’ll get more friends and you learn all much more than you could possibly imagine!”. He remembered this phrase word for word because of how wrong he believed it was.

School was no fun at all. He had always been mocked by the richer people in school who would always be talking about faraway lands - even of snow-capped mountains where one could ‘ski’. He had no clue what this ‘skiing’ activity is, but it seems amazing. When it was his turn to talk about his holiday, he was bullied and mocked. Apparently going to the shopping centre to buy new clothes and books for the year is lame.

It had been like this since he ever started school. He couldn’t take it anymore but he had to keep going because his parents would get mad at him otherwise. They had worked so hard to give him a good life in the future.

“You won’t need to live lives like us if you go to school. We want a good life for you, in the big city, working in big businesses.”

He couldn’t let his parents down.

He stood there out the front of some shady house in a rural area. Some guy told him that there was a solution, an escape from the burdens of life. He was intrigued. The door creaked open, revealing a bearded man with tattoos on his arms and legs. He thought for a second that this was a bad idea but as he was assured that this would help him survive, he was adamant in doing exactly what the man said.

“That package will make you feel better. I know how hard life has been for you”, stated the tattooed man, with a crooked smile appearing out the corner of his mouth. He thanked the tattooed man and then went to his hiding place out the back of a local cafe. He broke open the package and found a white pill which just seemed like some headache medicine. This would definitely make him feel good, he mumbled. He decided to take one of the pills and felt quite light-headed. It felt like a week had passed as he slumbered into a deep sleep, oblivious of his surrounds.

[Verona Beach]

Port of Verona Beach
3:30 AM

Jeshua Hernandez rubbed the stubble on his cheek. He hopped out the back of the truck and ran, carrying a bulky black bag with small objects poking at the sides. He tried to regulate his heavy breathing as he raced between shipping containers silently, looking for the special one. Eventually, he found it- “EN20496.” He peeked around the back, and was startled by the man he had expected to be waiting there. Without words, they exchanged bags. The other man briefly opened the bag before sealing it shut again, nodding in approval. Jeshua turned to leave, but something else caught his eye before he could.

The beating of helicopter blades. The painful bright beam of a searchlight. Someone had snitched.

Jeshua fumbled for his GS-19 handgun, tucked into his belt. He pointed it at the now equally startled dealer, his trigger hand shaking with the tempo of an amateur. “WHO?!” He shouted, before, almost accidentally, firing off a single shot. The thud of the gun bounced around the shipyard, and alerted the chopper crew to where they should go. As they leisurely swung about, the sounds of sirens could be heard from far off. The dealer laid in a pool of blood, most protruding from the hole in his chest. He wasn’t quite dead, but Jeshua didn’t care. He knew the beepees were onto him and would drop on his location at any minute. He grabbed the two bags and broke into a sprint, weaving throughout the yard between the containers. Eventually, he came to the car and climbed in. “Go, go, go! Someone ratted!” He sputtered, waving his hands in incoherent gestures. They had made a raw deal, and had gotten away with it.

For now.

The dealer was surrounded by policemen, and later paramedics- faint silhouettes against the bright lights. He began considering if testifying in exchange for protection would be a viable option as his gurney was wheeled to the emergency operating theater, a similar thought going through the heads of the detectives who had convened like heads of state to crush whole cigarette cartons and re-examine evidence.

[Lardingo]

[b]]Morrow District, Lardingo[/b

“Here you go ma’am,” Gen Waldor handed the old lady a package wrapped carefully in paper.

The frail woman smiled as she untied the twine string and unfolded the paper, “Thank you dear.”

“You sure are excited about this one,” Gen watched as his customer opened the box and lifted out a shiny handgun.

“It’s a beauty! I was so upset when I lost my old gun. You know I had that worn out thing for a long time,” The 70 year old gripped the handgun in gnarled but strong fingers.

“Hopefully this one will do just as well,” Gen leaned back on the counter and drew from his cigarette.

“Thanks again honey,” The old lady gave a wave and shuffled out of the store into the merciless heat of the desert.

Gen could not help but smile. Not many people made it to 70 around here, but the ones who did were the type who would keep going strong for a long time afterwards. He checked his watch. It was 3 minutes after closing time. After waiting a few minutes more, Gen flipped the sign on door from open to closed. He turned around and surveyed his firearm store. There were pistols, rifles, shotguns, even a collection of semi automatics in a glass display case in front of the counter. Everything was covered in a thin sheet of gritty sand, as was everything in Morrow District. He checked his watch again. It was time.

Gen walked into the back of the store, which was filled with crates. Most were just gun shipments from different places in the country. But tucked in the corner, under a moldy blanket, where his special packages. His phone rang and after checking the Caller ID, Gen answered, “Hello?”

“This is Gecko,” The man on the other side said.

“Gecko, this is Railroad. Are we safe?” Gen looked around to make sure there was no one in the shop.

“I’m not using my regular phone. We’re good.”

“I’ve good the shipment of Buzz ready to go. Do you know when I’m supposed to send it off?”

“In a few days. I’ll tell you the exact date soon.”

“You sure are doing a good job keeping the government and media off our trail. I ain’t seen a peep out of the newspapers.”

“What government?” There was a harsh laugh from the other side of the phone, “It’s basically just a collection of idiots trying to corral a herd of cats.”

“There may be only so much you can do though. Other countries are starting to take notice that an awful lot of people are dropping dead from this stuff.”

“Do you actually think anybody here will care? I have so many allies in the Councils, I guarantee no action will be taken.”

Gen bit his lip, “Alrighty. As long as I get my cut of the money, I’ll stay in.”

“You’ll get your cut. Don’t worry,” With that, the man on the other end of the phone hung up.

Gen flicked his cigarette on the floor and ground it with his foot.

[Lardingo]

An officer with an assault rifle stood alert outside the heavy oak door to the COPAD chamber, where the sound of a droning voice could be heard. Inside it was stifling. Fans placed strategically throughout the room blew hot air around. The room was simple, but elegant, with the walls and rows of desks carved out of wood. The high arched ceiling covered the multitudes of uncomfortable politicians. The council members sitting in the five rows where dripping with sweat and red cheeked. Abigail Kasy slouched over her desk at the front of the room, fiddling with her gavel as the man in front of her droned on. The flag of Lardingo hung behind her, framing her sweltering face.

Councilwoman Lizzy Halloway whipped her forehead with a cloth and groaned, "Give it up Mulk! You've been talking for two hours! Let's just put the Buzz Bill to a vote already!"

Councilmen Jason Mulk looked up from his notes, "This is the first step to the welfare government. Come on Halloway, you've got to admit I have a valid point here!"

Halloway fanned herself with a stack of papers, "There's a difference between freedom of autonomy, and literally giving people drugs that make them insane and violent. These drugs make users a threat to themselves and other people!"

"Way to quote from your press statement!" Mulk snorted.

"Order! Order!" Councilwoman Kasy slammed her gavel on the table, "Councilmen Milk still has the floor."

"Are you seriously letting this guy do this?" Another councilman stood up and shot his head, "I'd like to file a motion that recognizes the distinguished councilmen from Morrow District as an idiot!"

"I'll second that motion!" Someone else called.

Kasy rubbed her eyes and sighed.

[Bravo Rio]

Para Volar
10/29/17, a few miles north of The Badlands

“Listen ron, I need the damn shipment of this stuff out of the country as soon as you can get it. Elections are soon and I have a campaign to fund.” Klamath barked into his phone as he looked out his office window past the heavily guarded gate, perimeter walls, and into the Badland desert. Starting up and keeping a campaign is no easy task in Bravo Rio. The sparse population calls for an expensive ad system and many, many trips to small farming communities across the countries untamed land. With very little business opportunity in Bravo Rio, Klamath has turned to running drugs across the border to other countries, besides, who doesn’t trust a politician? The new drug known as “buzz” has made Jonathan’s job only easier all he had to do was connect flights with drug suppliers and the rest was taken care of. Buzz was exploding in popularity in big cities.

The only problem Jonathan had to face was trying to pin Port Blair’s rise in Buzz use on Ajay. There’s no doubt in his mind that it is indeed Ajays doing. But finding a way to expose him while keeping his own reputation intact. Buzz isn’t exactly illegal in Bravo Rio as much as it is a shunned drug. Going to prison would ease one’s mind more than being caught selling the drugs and having the entire country turn their back to you. Jonathan had made the decision a while ago to see how the rest of Gael’s nations react to this Buzz outbreak and so far. It seems that Jonathan won’t have to pin anything on Ajay, the rest of the world is doing it for him.

[Lardingo]

Crystal City, DOLE Executive Building
A beam of light shone out from the closet, sweeping the room. Then a man emerged.

Jeff Olsen shivered as he checked his watch again, just to make sure. It was 12:00 PM. He had been hiding in the closet since eight while janitors cleaned the DOLE Executive Building. During this time Jeff had put on one of the janitor uniforms in the closet, it would be his alibi if one of the security guards caught him. Jeff patted the bulge in his pocket nervously. He was carrying his own pistol instead of the one all DOLE employees were issued. All the more to look like an everyday janitor. Jeff felt a wave of nerves wash over him. He was a technology specialist, not a sneak.
Slipping his blue hat low over his eyes, he hunched over and scuttled through the hallways. Jeff past numerous numerically marked doors until he stopped a the the one he was looking for. On the door was a shiny brass nameplate: Calven Makenshop, Head of DOLE. Jeff jiggled the door handle: No luck. He pulled out a small homemade device and fit it into lock. After a minute of twisting the door swung open with a small click.
The office was mostly bare, save for a few pictures of Makenshop standing with Chief Executive Renolds, framed newspaper articles about the capture and trials of the Jes voter fraud criminals, and a silver computer facing the door. Jeff made straight for the computer, pulling a USB stick out of his pocket. Fingers trembling, he brought the login screen up onto the computer then inserted the USB. He sat down in the office chair and breathed in shakily while the virus worked it’s way into the computer’s system. The process waiting apprehensively for someone to walk in and find him. Suddenly the the screen went black, flickered, then the home screen came up. Blocky text in the corner read: WELCOME CALVEN MAKENSHOP. Jeff breathed in deeply. He was in.

[Ainslie]

2 November 2017
Laccore (Ainslie), Wesland, Ainslie
~7:30am

The wind had been a verifiable threat in dislodging the documents he was holding as he was making his way down Providence Avenue towards the Judicial Council’s building to participate in what had been dubbed the “Revire Inquiry”. A man had arrived with a letter to his house a few days ago, stating that he had to participate in this large new investigation into the recent “Buzz” epidemic, one that has led to severe consequences for people’s health and endangering first responders as well as those attempting to care the patient back at the hospital.

What resonated with him most was the sense of duty he felt after someone, a resident of his own electorate, had died due to an allergic reaction to the drug. He was deputy chair of the Electoral Court of Wesland and was based in Highland Ridge – where the incident happened. He was one of the first people to address the Buzz crisis and was Deputy PM Wilton’s first judicial contact as the incident occurred.

He quickly muttered under his breath, careful that no one else heard me
“This may be their town, but the heart of mine was broken because of this.”

His court had been under significant criticism so far this year, but he managed to dodge a lot of the criticism, due to the Judicial Council appointing him deputy chair after most of the senior judges in the Electoral Court were dismissed due to a violation of the rule of law.

Kentarre walked up the steps and stared at the glorious building which stood in front of him. Arnton was not as old as many of the capitals across the Isles, so this old building he stood before was one of few from its period to grace Arnton with its splendour. After being taken off the Highland Ridge Inquiry, he had a few days off where he was to study the law further in this area and do some reading before joining the bench of the Judicial Council. He was humbled by the building, but he also was a little agitated, expecting the almost aristocratic nature of the senior judges in his electoral court before they were dismissed to be translated into the Judicial Council.

He was ushered through a back door, as the media were flocking to him in order to get an interview or a statement. Kentarre then strolled down the corridors of the winding building and into an elevator which went up three levels before revealing the wide, tall chamber he would be sitting in for the next few weeks during the inquiry. He would be the “augmenting consul” as described by the Council themselves. He would be an expert on the practicalities of the situation and what happened. Despite this limited role, he was allowed the exact same privileges as a Judicial Council Judge whilst in the chamber and he was certain he’d put them to good use.

The council opened and it was his time to show what the Electoral Courts of Wesland really stood for, not all the drama that had been occurring beforehand.

[Bravo Rio]

2:27 AM, on the bank of the Blair River

Although the bag was removed from Ajay’s head he still couldn’t see a whole lot. One thing he could see was what looked like shimmers dancing on the ground a few feet from him, that sight combined with the sound of flowing water convinced him he was at the river. One thing he didn’t know was why is he here? He was sitting in his office listening to a news report when everything suddenly went black and he was here.

“The name Klamath ring a bell?” a scraggly voice asked from behind him. Ajay’s heart was beating so loud he was sure everyone could hear it. Damn that good for nothing bastard Ajay thought to himself.

Another voice chimed in, this one was all too familiar, it was Klamath himself. “Sorry it had to come to this mate, I liked ya, I really did. But I guess you just weren’t fit to run a country. This buzz scandal has ran you and your government into the ground. Your own son is preparing to run against you in the elections soon. You’ve failed man, no hard feelings.”

Ajay knew those were the last words he would hear. He closed his eyes and prepared for what was next, his mind drifted to everything he’s done in life, destroying this country, his homeland, all for his needs. He wasn’t surprised by what was happening he just never mentally prepared for this moment. His thoughts were interrupted with a sharp pain in the back of his head for a time so short he couldn’t even react then everything went black.

[Lardingo]

Morrow District


The door shuddered, then exploded in a rain of wood shards. Gen tumbled out of bed in a tangle of sheets and reached for his pistol. But if was too late.

A man in a cowboy hat was already aiming a rifle at his head, “You’re under arrest.”

Gen silently lifted his hands into the air. Men were crashing around his shop, checking behind corners and under display cases. The man with the rifle walked over to the stacks of crates, still keeping his gun pointed at Gen.

“Somebody open these!”

An officer nodded and plunged the butt of his gun into one of the crates. He looked into the broken remains.

“We’ve caught ‘em!”