Sunset Hotel, Darrowmere
The Sunset was notorious now. The now named “Battle of Tatu Square” had taken place only months prior, with many killed. The incident had given a certain edge to the soldiers in Tatu, as an entire division of Infantry(the 5th) was in the city alone. There were two other divisions in the country, one for the Western Territory, the jungles of which also held the last few holdouts of the Trinkomali Clan, and one for the remainder of the country, which, all things considered, wasn’t that bad. Still, Tatu was heating up. The city offered not only the concealment of the jungle, but anonymity. Plus, amongst the many questionable characters in the former country, Tatu was full of opportunity, as the criminals had also doubled as Clansmen and were either dead or in prison.
The Sunset was notorious now. It was a meeting place of criminals, foreign spies and rebel contacts, which is what brought Captain Rick Crowell there. He was a naval officer by trade, responsible for the boats that ran on the many waterways of the area. But today, the intelligence contact was sick, so he’d been sent. All he had to do was a simple pickup of an envelope. The place was so obviously a hangout for vagabonds that it wasn’t a dead drop. Just get the envelope and leave. The man would be drinking the sweet tea the Arabs of Darrowmere liked out of a very ornate glass. Sure enough, the man was sitting in the corner opposite the door, he stood out quite a bit. He scratched one of his bushy eyebrows as Crowell walked over. The man,was overweight and wearing an expensive looking suit with no tie, as was the preference in the area. Crowell took the envelope and left, after hesitating for a second. As he walked out the street was empty, as it had been bustling only a second before. As he walked to get back in his car and drive for the CM Headquarters at the Airport, two men burst out of one of the many alleys of the city. “Don’t move.” Put your hands on your head. As he complied, a GAZ taxi drove into the intersection and one of his masked captors struck him on the head with the butt of a Kalashnikov, knocking him out. He lost the last shred of consciousness as they dumped him into the trunk, cutting the emergency release off in front of him.
Fort Carson, San Andreas
The 5th Armoured Regiment was moving into Darrowmere in February, so preparations had begun. The K1A1 tanks were being repainted and their NBC systems were the order of the week. Captain Derek Crowell was new to the unit, having been moved from 3rd Armoured Corps, which was becoming part of the new 12th Armoured regiment. He’d been to Darrowmere before, for 6 months and knew the place reasonably well. His Major walked over to him about halfway and waved him to into his office. “Captain…I’ve received a phone call from a watch officer at the National Command Centre and…your father was kidnapped today while on an intelligence mission.” Derek was stunned, but asked questions right away. “Intelligence? What was he doing that for?”
“They didn’t say why, all they did say was that you need to fly home to Jamestown and help out there, that’s where they’re sending everyone, so they’re close to your family.” Within 20 minutes, he was in a jeep, heading for the base of 7 Wing Las Peyesadas, where the former San Andreas Air Force was based. They had two business jets for the San Andrean government based there and as CM property, they would fly him home. After a stopover in Panjuhr for fuel, they continued on, arriving in Jamestown 8 hours after leaving.
Jamestown, Ondakastan
The house was full of people. There were CM types, a few CNP officers, plus Derek’s younger brother and stepmother. He was very close to his brother, his stepmother not so much, but still, he needed to be here. One of the CM officers pulled him aside and told him what was going on. “We received a call from the kidnappers, the good news is they’re just criminals, so most of what they want is money. They also want a prisoner released, and Evgeny Drozdov, have you heard of him?”
“No. I’ve no idea who that is.” Derek tried to remember, but the name meant nothing."
“He was the main Bratva leader in Coocoobad, before he got jailed. We think the ransom is just a diversion and that they’re being paid for bailing Drozdov. Of course, they thought they’d taken the senior Intelligence officer in Darrowmere and not your father.”
“What are you going to do about it?” He asked the man, a 2nd Lieutenant, who was younger than him and from the Intelligence Corps, getting a blank stare before an answer. “Well, Drozdov must not be released, he’s too powerful a man, the Military and the National Police are clear on that. As well, there’s no leads on who exactly these guys are and where they have him. The voice was text-to-speech and the number didn’t trace. They said they’re sending pictures to prove they have him, but they described moles he has on his chest and the St. Christopher medal he has on, so we’re positive they aren’t kidding.”
“What about a rescue?”
“Out of the question. Rescues in these scenarios often work out poorly, the village, were presuming that much, where he is is likely dominated by the criminals. Nobody will dare cross them, so the place will be a fortress. Its either negociation or…” he trailed off.
Derek stormed out. What was to negociate? How come they didn’t know where he was? Didn’t they have enough in the way of contacts? He paused, he actually had one.
Lorengau, Lorengau Province
Nils Vanderbeek drank the water mixed with whiskey he liked so much on hot days. It had just enough whiskey not to be a waste, but it didn’t cloud the mind at all. The phone rang, with Derek Crowell on the other end. “Derek? The last time I saw you, you were dragging my medic to my helicopter. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Derek had come across Nils and his cell of Mercenaries, or Private Contractors, battling it out with a local gang in the village of Saidor, having been hired by the local government to clear them out by force. His medic had been shot and thinking the men wouldn’t shoot at a soldier, he ran in after him, dragging him to safety. Nils was a well-connected man and since Derek had helped him in a time of need, he gave him his card. He was a former officer in an African army and had moved his small band of Contractors to Darrowmere when the market had grown so ripe after the invasion. He chose his contracts carefully and his contractors even more so. He currently had 50 men, all ex-army, mostly special-ops or airborne. He’d even bought a helicopter, a Puma, for which he’d gotten a Darrowmeri Aircrew and some mechanics from Europe. It was a nice operation he ran.
Nils had heard about a kidnapping for ransom, but the significance of the name hadn’t registered. “Well Derek. I’ll certainly call around for you. It’s likely I’ll find out something. Just do me a service. Use payphones from now on, once it gets rough and it looks like a stalemate, the government will have people tail you. With you being military and having been here, they’ll think you’ll try something under the table to save your father. Now call me back in three days. Keep well.” He hung up, leaving Derek with his thoughts. He walked the streets of the city, ending up at the baseball diamond at the highschool well after dark. He sat in the empty seats and looked into the clear night sky, wondering when all would be right again.