Regional Soviet #15, Border to Ishgar
"Is it a plane?" operator 237-489 472-102 said "It seems to be going to slow to be a plane. Perhaps an Ishgarian attack helicopter?"
"No, lad." 474-855 378-483 "That ain't no helicopter, and certainly not Ishgarian."
The two PCC operators sat huddled over the radio station, the fell North Nefreedian winter having arrived and their listening post not being entirely made for the northern weather. The operators had frequently cursed the construction team, who obviously had to be some southerners from the Redlands who wouldn't be too worried about the extreme cold endured in the far north.
"It seems to... organic and human?" 472-102 said, wearing three layers of blanket over the PCC uniform "Should we alert the AA batteries?"
"No, no, no!" 378-483 replied "Are you insane, lad? If we waste bullets, the Overseer will have us sent to #20! Unless you want to develop cancer, we just send a report and leave it to heads wiser than ours, lad."
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"From these reports, we seem to be dealing with a subhuman infiltrator." Commissar-Overseer 376-384 777-281 said "However, it has already passed the border defences, so it is too late to gun it down at the border. Inform our batteries in #14, it seems to be headed there. Shoot on sight."
"What about the commissars manning the LP? Should they be..." one of the aides began to ask
"No, they did everything by the book. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? The humanoid features are just something messed with the radio. Remember what happened during the Maltropian nuclear crisis? It's probably just a big bird."
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Regional Soviet #14
Research Station #2 was located in the western parts of Regional Soviet #14, the most staunchly xenophobic region in all of New Freedomstan. The recently elected Regional Foreman, Ida Johansen, was also the Commissar-SectionalOverseer of the Subhuman Containment Section. While some would call this a conflict of interest, those "some" would soon find themselves kindly reminded that such talk is really dangerous to ones health. After the rise of the Humanity First Party in the Region, the top-secret Research Stations was now further bolstered by local militias in addition to the Commissariat troops.
Like most of North-Western Nefreedia, Regional Soviet #14 was very cold and very mountainous. Little existed in the way of agriculture, and the industrial metropolises dotted both sky and terrain with pollution. A sign of progress, to many from West-Nefreedia both from the South-West and North-West. However, what gave the South-West the name "Redlands", the massive iron deposits, did not exist in the North-West. While mountains dominated, what gave the relatively sparsely populated area some form of economy beyond the massive industrial People's Collective was the sprawling forests. While the forests were reciding from the cities themselves, wildlife and forests generally not reacting well to liberal applications of anti-pollution laws, most of Regional Soviet #14 was devoid of civilization.
Peaks towered over the windswept terrain, and the heavy snow that had lasted for weeks had finally subsided. The bears had long since gone to slumber, and rabbits, wolves and foxes were the prime actors in the forests (apart from the occasional hunter intent on getting some meat for once). The land snow-swept had one remarkable dot apart from the local timber-town (population: 5000). While normally nearly impossible to see, Research Station #2 was now clearly visible in the snow. The nearby timber-town provided the excuse for the regular trains to the Research Station, and the townsfolk generally knew to keep well away from the Station. While on paper the area barely had five thousand inhabitants, rumours abounded of a vast underground complex beneath the Station. However, it was the very extensive Anti-Air batteries that would prove most important about the Station itself.
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"The hostile subhuman is nearing our batteries," Militiaman Anders Jernmaske said "We have orders to shoot on sight from national command, and from Johansen herself." there was no question which Johansen he meant.
"Well, then you don't need my confirmation. Fire at will!" The Commissar-Overseer shouted into the intercom to the AA batteries surrounding the station. After a few seconds of firing, they stopped.
"It's falling, sir." Jernmaske said "I think it's dead."
"No use picking the corpse up."
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289 metres away from the timbertown, some newly fallen snow provided just enough of a dampener for a certain wayward head of state to survive. Having listened into the exchange over the radio, a man in his fifties watched as the giant fell. Waiting for a few second, the man with the greying beard and the weary green eyes cautiously asked:
"Snakkeru Nefridisk? Sprechen sie Deutsch? Do you speak English?"
