Retribution

[Kangarawa]

Home of the President, Tasman City, Kangarawa

“… with the kestrels flying overhead and the jenny tight with the wind. The high cirrus clouds indicated the approaching front. The warning signs were clear provided one was experienced enough at sea to know what to look for. James Maddock was …”

Instantly wide-awake, Mappins put down his book and glanced at the clock as the phone beside his bed rang. 3:15 a.m.? He picked up the receiver looking at the flashing dial pad. The call was an internal one.

“Mappins.”

“Mr. President, we have a situation. The Under Secretary is on his way over. ETA 10 minutes.”

Slightly irritated, Mappins responded, “Which Under Secretary, Frank? And what’s going on?”

“Sorry, sir. Intelligence. Mr. Fisher. No idea. I was simply told to wake you and tell you he was on his way over.”

“Right. I’ll be right down.” Placing the receiver back on the hook, Mappins ran a hand through his sandy hair, as he was wont to do when concentrating. Walking to the bedroom door and grabbing his robe from the hook on the back of it, he opened the door and nodded to the security guard outside.

“Bad night, Mr. President?”

Smiling a little ruefully, Mappins replied, “Just a little difficulty sleeping, Dave. Charles Fisher should be arriving momentarily.”

Once downstairs, ensconced in the library, Mappins fixed the logs in the fireplace, ensuring the kindling was set just the way he liked it before lighting the fire. As the flames started crackling, he knelt back and pulled the fire screens closed. He knew exactly why his security detail wanted him to get rid of the old fireplace, but there was something about a wood fire that …

“Peter?”

Rising, Mappins turned and took a look at the haggard expression on his old friend’s face. Without a word, he walked over to a tall cabinet, opened it, and took out a bottle and a couple of glasses. At Fisher’s nod, he poured three fingers of Scotch into each glass and motioned for Charles to have a seat in one of the wing backed chairs in front of the fire. Taking the adjacent one, he waited in silence as Charles stared at the glass in his hand before swallowing its entire contents and holding it out to be refilled. Wordlessly, Peter complied. This time, Fisher stared into the fire and started speaking as soon as the glass was in his hands. Only the haggard expression on his face and the hollow look Peter had seen in his eyes when he first came in gave any indication of the depth of emotion he was feeling. Charles’ tone was perfectly matter-of-fact.

“You’re aware that we’ve had Chantal’s family in a safe-house under 24/7 protection for well over six months now. A little over four hours ago, the fire department up in the Heights received a call. House fire. By the time they got there, maybe … oh … five, six minutes response time … the fire was already well established. They couldn’t get anyone in. The whole place went up, Peter. Fast. No survivors. She’s lost her husband, her two kids … think the oldest was only five or six … and I lost four agents. Four good agents. No possible way this was accidental. Two of them would have been on duty. They also had the two shepherds. None of the neighbours heard a thing until they heard the sirens. The phone call came in from a phone booth a couple of blocks away. No way to tell who made the call.”

Fisher paused, taking a sip of his drink, waiting for Mappins to speak. When he didn’t, Fisher glanced over at him. Mappins was completely motionless. He was staring into the fire, tears glistening in his eyes, the knuckles holding his glass of Scotch completely white.

“Peter?”

“Does Chantal know yet?”

“No. I thought you’d want to be informed first.”

Blinking rapidly, Mappins carefully placed his untouched glass of Scotch on the table between them. “Have Rodney Danfield prepare a press release, but hold onto it until after 6:00 a.m… I’m heading over to talk to her. It was the damned Oversight Committee, wasn’t it?”

“We can’t be sure of that, Peter. You know that.”

“Right. I’ll let you see yourself out.” Rising, and walking toward the library door, Mappins hesitated a moment before glancing back.

“Charles? Thanks for bringing me the news yourself.”

Fisher nodded.

[Kangarawa]

Tasman Subway, Bristol Heights Station
3:52 a.m.

“ … secondary target dealt with as per instructions Security was too tight at location of primary target. There was absolutely no way to follow through.” The palms of the woman holding the phone were sweating as she waited for a response. Looking around the terminal was akin to looking around a huge, virtually empty football field at this time of night: no one to be seen other than the odd straggler or group of teenagers.

As the silence stretched out, she watched a group of what seemed to be kids in their late teens horsing around near the tracks. Colours. They were all wearing gang colours. Having grown up an inner city kid, gang members didn’t scare her. She’d been one. No, what scared her was the silence on the other end of the line.

“There’s a small key taped underneath the phone. Use it to open locker 137. You’ll find your … compensation … there. We won’t be needing your services again.” As the call terminated, she felt a profound sense of relief. She’d been afraid they’d cancel her payment. She’d been more afraid that they’d want to use her again.

Carefully smiling and pretending to carry on the conversation, she surreptitiously felt for the key and removed it from the sticky tape that she left attached to the underside of the phone. She laughed as she said her “good byes”, and walked swiftly to the lockers a mere three metres away. The briefcase was both small and light. She debated about checking the contents, but decided against it. Walking to the tracks, she half-smiled as she thought about all the places she could go with what she was carrying with her.

As the train started pulling into the station and began to slow, her mental alarm bells went off a fraction of a second too late. The briefcase was pulled from her hands as she was roughly pushed from behind. The sparks as she hit the third rail had the four teenagers behind her laughing as they flew up the staircase behind them while the train ground to a halt. Once out on the street, they headed for the alley between the Pub and the local grocery store.

Once out of sight of prying eyes, pulling out a switchblade, the tallest of the four started poking at the lock.

“Did he tell you how much?”

“Nah, this was just a return for a favour. Get it? He owes me, man. His boys will have to cut me some slack.”

As the blade hit the small wire, the alley erupted in an explosion of sound and dust.

Outside Chantal Scythes’ Condominium
6:30 a.m.

Leaving the condominium, Peter sighed. She’d reacted exactly the way he’d expected she would: with stoicism. The few questions she’d asked had been brief and pointed. She’d already known that the information he’d given her was all he had to give at the time. With great dignity and seeming to make a conscious effort not to look directly at him, she’d quietly thanked him and then asked him to leave. It was only after Bob Coons, head of her Security Detail, had led him to the hall that he heard the closing of what he assumed was her bedroom door and the uncontrollable sobbing.

“Back home, Mr. President?” Mappins’ own Security Detail had remained outside the Vice President’s residence.

Mappins looked at his watch and shook his head. “My office.”

No other words were spoken as the three men entered the elevator.

[Kangarawa]

The Octagonal Office, The Parliament Buildings, Tasman City, Kangarawa
4:15 p.m., Later that Day

“Well if it wasn’t part of the Tep Forum | 404 - Link Expired why the hell is it being quoted in every damn paper from here to Waboh?” Mappins threw a copy of the Tasman Daily Telegraph on the oval table in front of Rod Danfield, his Press Secretary, as he continued to pace around the office.

“No idea, sir. Here’s the original release. You can see for yourself that there was absolutely no mention of foul play. In fact, there was no speculation as to cause whatsoever.” Danfield was keeping a tight rein on his temper as he pulled out the “official” statement that had been released to the press earlier that morning. He was used to being blamed whenever things went awry, but this was the first time he’d seen Mappins quite this angry.

“What kind of a statement did you give them?”

“The usual: No comment.” Danfield’s response was given dryly as he sensed Mappins’ temper was no longer directed toward him. Mappins was still furious, however,

“Rod, find out. Contact the Telegraph, the Times and whatever other syndicated papers there are. I want to know who authorised the change.”

“You’ve got it.”

After Danfield left, Fisher eyed Mappins appraisingly, saying dryly. “Have another cup of coffee, why don’t you? You’re letting your emotions get the best of you, Peter. You know it. Danfield would never have released a statement like that. Someone got to it internally.”

Ruefully, Mappins sat down backwards on a chair, his hands running through hair that looked as though it had been untouched by a comb that day. “Sorry. Has she been moved?”

Fisher nodded. “She wasn’t very happy about it according to Bob, but she’s safely at The Presidential Residence. Security’s even tighter there.” Fisher began rubbing his knee. “ I don’t like it, Peter. Instead of just Chantal being a target, by moving her where you have, now you are as well.”

“Was she followed?”

“Who the hell knows? As far as we could tell, no. Three transfers, through a department store, a change of clothes, a look-alike … it doesn’t matter, Peter. If they can’t find her directly, they’ll try to go through you to find her.” Fraser’s normal calm was not in evidence. “You haven’t been able to confirm that a single Minister is a part of this … faction … since you’ve come into power. Suspicions, yes. Proof, no. You don’t even know if you can trust everyone you’ve appointed! As for where they’re getting their financing from? Again, you’ve drawn a blank. The Oversight Committee Chantal chaired delved a little too deeply into where the funds for the Ministry of Science and Technology were going, and we’ve seen the result of that. It isn’t just from Government coffers; that’s for sure. Can we prove it? No. They, whoever they are, are getting help from outside the country.”

“As for Chantal’s family, we can’t prove a thing. Not yet anyway, but my guys are waiting to go through the debris with the Fire Marshall. The rubble’s still too hot. Preliminary reports show that the fire burned far too hot and the house went up far too quickly to be attributable to natural causes. Add to that the fact that no one got out, and something just doesn’t smell right.”

Fisher shook his head, his knee seeming to pain him even more as his massaging intensified. “Face it, Peter. If this is the damned “faction” we’ve been trying so hard to find, this is going to get a whole lot uglier.”

[Reziel]

The Northern Grand Duchy – New Irem
The Fortress – Fifth Floor – Reziel’s office – 05:04 PM

Glancing interrogatively at the New Iremian Prime Minister, Grand Duke Elistar Reziel took the printed sheet which was being handed at him. As he skimmed through its lines, his face began to darken. When he had finished, he observed the space for the three signatures, then immediately added his right before Kadras’ and Ileana De Corde’s.

«Do you think this damned Faction of theirs could be involved, Kadras? I mean… the reference to foul play is…»

«We still have too few info, Reziel. Obviously enough, they do not want too a big fuss around it»

Nodding, Reziel handed the sheet back to the Prime Minister.

«Should they ever…»

«The NISA has already been alerted. As soon as they’ll just think to request some kind of external co-operation, we’ll be in Tasman»

«I could even think you’re taking it as a personal issue, my old friend»

«I’ve been lucky enough to meet Lady Scythes on Rillanon. She didn’t deserve such a thing… at all. Moreover, she’s Lady Janus’ aunt… and that makes it a personal issue»

[hr]
The Fortress – Third Floor – Communication Office
Fifteen minutes later

— Begin quote from ____

From: The Government of the Twin Grand Duchies of Reziel
To: The Government of the Republic of Kangarawa

We the undersigned, the Grand Duke of Reziel, the New Iremian Prime Minister and the New Iremian Minister of Foreign Affairs,
Both personally and on behalf of the Twin Grand Duchies’ whole population hereby want to offer their sincerest condolences to the Kangarwan Vice-President for her tragic loss.
May her beloved ones find their own rest in the merciful light of Our Lord Ki’jo

Lord Elistar Reziel – Grand Duke
Lord Kadras Lordameer – Prime Minister
Lady Ileana De Corde – Minister of Foreign Affairs

— End quote

— Begin quote from ____

From: Kadras Lordameer
To: Lady Chantal Scythes

My dear Chantal,
I know that no words will be able to alleviate your torment in this sad moment, but I wanted to personally offer you my sincere condolences on the loss of your husband and your children.
Should there ever be anything I can do, please consider myself at your service.
With renewed friendship,

Kadras

— End quote

[Dovakhan]

Dovakhanese Mission to the Confederated East Pacific
Rilanon - Christie Island - The East Pacific

«Drâpö’s a moron. He campaigns for a Dovakhan ‘open to the outside world’ yet he wants us to stay ‘neutral’ as well. And what a stupid thing to be neutral over!» the Ambassador-General to the Confederated East Pacific, Mârîânâ Rêspölîtsâ, stated frankly to her collegue, the Director of Diplomacy, over lunch at the Mission in Rilanon. The Ambassador-General to the Confederated East Pacific had received news about the fires that morning and definately had her own opinions about how the Republic-Khanates should act, which she conveyed to the Director of Diplomacy who was in town to deal with the usual war or two.

«You know we can’t just send ÊspîöDöv to get information on every catnapping and candy store robbery on this continent, Mârîânâ» the Director said, using her first name, which indicates deep confidence in Dovakhan.

«This is not just any assasination, Dâvîd, and it’s too close to home for my liking. What’s more, we know all about the Faction and it’s anti-Dovakhanese leanings. Therefore instability in Kangarawa at the hands of these thugs, some of which still control the government, is instability in Dovahkan Mârîânâ responded.

The Director leaned back in his chair. «I know you have emotional investment in this case because of the connections you made with Vice President Scythes in Black Panther Cats. So, I’m probably going to regret this, but I’ll see what I can do» he said.

After a while the Director left for his meeting and Mârîânâ was left alone to finish the day’s business. At around 16:00, she blocked thirty minutes to write a very personal letter to Chantal.

[Lazlowia]

Lazlowgard, Peoples Republic of Lazlowia
Building of the Central Committee

President Lazlow was having a closed meeting with the First Secretary of the Party, Lörcs Gábor, and the head of the Committe, Szemlédi András.

“-Well, at least we have nothing to do with it.”-said Lörcs.

“-What are the possibilities, that this will cause an internal unrest there.”-asked Lazlow.

“-Hard to tell. They are shoked, and if we work fast, we can find out.”

“-Of course we have to find out. And we also have to find out, who did this. And congratulate them.”-Lazlow gave a small, evil laugh.-“Untill than, send an official letter.”

“-Of course. I’ll also contact the Commander of the LTSZ. They probably send somebody to investigate.”-said Lörcs.

“-Comrade Szemlédi, I give the supervision of this LTS-operation to the Central Committee.”

“-At once comrade.”-said Szemlédi, who remained silent until this.

— Begin quote from ____

From: The Government of the Peoples Republic of Lazlowia
To: The Government of the Republic of Kangarawa

On behalf of the Government, we want to offer our condolences to the Vice President in this hard hour.

President of Lazlowia-Lazlow
First Secretary of the Lazlowian Communist Party-Lörcs Gábor
Head of the Central Committee of the Lazlowian Communist Party- Lörcs Gábor

— End quote

[Kangarawa]

Octagonal Office, Parliament Buildings, Tasman City, Kangarawa
8:15 a.m., Two Days Later

“So you’re telling me that it was a professional hit?”

“No doubt about it. Whoever it was knew exactly what he was doing. They were burned alive in their beds, Peter. I … house collapsed inward, but no explosion. Found traces of ethyl alcohol in the basement drain. That stuff’s highly explosive, so whoever was using it knew exactly how much to use without setting off an explosion. Wasn’t gas … liquid. Used in organic synthesis, some chemical solvents, but trace analysis was leaning away from the solvents. What we still can’t figure out is what happened to Fox and Price. Only five bodies and no signs of forced entrance. Price was in the Resistance with me, Peter. There’s not a chance that he’d be involved in something like this. To be honest, I can’t believe it of Jeremy Fox either, but I don’t know how else to explain what’s happened.”

Fisher took a mouthful of the coffee in front of him, grimaced slightly and placed the cup back down on the table. “How long ago did you make this pot?”

Mappins glanced down at his own cup absentmindedly before taking a cup of swallows. “I don’t know. Since I got here this morning. Maybe two, two and half hours ago.” He looked into the inky depths as if the syrupy liquid held the answers to the questions remaining unanswered.

“Why didn’t they get out of their beds, Charles? Surely the smoke detectors alone, if not the smoke itself would have woken them? This makes no sense.”

Fisher sighed. “Don’t know yet. The coroner doesn’t have a whole lot to work with, and is still working on the family members. My guys were underneath everything. He may be able to get more from them, but he’s backlogged. Fire detectors couldn’t have been working or the central alarm would have been triggered in my both my department and at the main office of the Security Company that monitors the house. The Fire Marshall thinks …”

“Wait a minute. The Coroner is backlogged? He hasn’t finished five autopsies yet? Unacceptable. Either move them to our own facilities on one of the medical bases, Tasman University Hospital or help the Coroner to prioritise things a little. I want answers by the end of the day.” Mappins was coldly furious.

“Hold it, Peter! This is exactly what we want to avoid. You give Chantal’s family special treatment of any type, and you increase the risk of the press getting hold of it. Just back off. You may have your answers by the end of the day anyway. Both the Fire Marshall and his crew have agreed not to report the fire as arson, and have signed oaths to that effect. Still no guarantees, but we kept the number of outside investigators to a minimum. Same thing with the Coroner, but if you start changing his schedule around, you’ll have the cops whose cases are backlogged asking questions and it will make it even harder to keep a lid on things. We want to play dumb on this. It’s the only chance we have of encouraging someone to become overconfident.”

Mappins slammed down his empty mug in disgust. “Not even you can believe this will work, Charles. We’ve got the resources. There’s no damn reason we wouldn’t be able to figure out what happened, and any idiot’s going to know that. We’re not up against idiots.”

“No, we’re not. They’re damned good, and we’ve had four of them under surveillance for nearly two years. It hasn’t done us any good. We got lucky with the Kandarinese and Kuragosa. We know that, but they don’t. They’ve got to be feeling pretty cocky right about now. What have we got to lose?” Fisher was at his most persuasive, but even he knew he was pushing his luck.

Without saying another word, Mappins rose and started his inimitable pacing, running his hands through his hair, something Fisher found him doing far more often of late.

“I want answers by tomorrow morning, Charles. Messages of condolence are starting to arrive for Chantal. She’s not ready for them yet, and won’t be until she has some closure. She’s strong, but not knowing is tearing her apart. Funeral arrangements will need to be made: two different ones, of course. We’ll all attend the public one with a stand-in for Chantal. Let me know as soon as you hear something.”

[hr]

52nd Precinct, Harbourfront, Tasman City, Kangarawa
Meanwhile…

“What did the report say, Sarge?”

“Two floaters off the main pier. Fished them out early this morning. No clothes, no hands, no heads. Gangs or organised crime is my guess.”

“Who’s got it”

“O’Brien and Samuels. Corpses are down at the Coroner’s office. He’s backlogged; says he’ll get to them when he has time. Anything else?”

“Nada. See ya.”

[Free_Pacific_States]

OOC: A little late, but, I suppose that well represents FPS’ bureaucratic process.

As a note, though I won’t RP this as it’ll be a bit cliche (after the first time I RPed it), the FPS Embassy in Kangarawa would have gone through a somber ceremony of lowering the flag to half mass as soon as word reached it that the Vice-President’s family had died.
IC:
Public Release of the Department of International Affairs of the Federated Alliance of Free Pacific States
Communique Addressed to the Vice-President of Kangarawa
There are truly no words that could assuage the mourning of a person who has lost his or her family. It is a loss incomprehensible to anyone who has not gone through it and truly a tragedy that a person should never be forced to endure.

You have the condolences and best wishes of this administration, this nation, and it’s people. Good luck and may your loved ones rest in peace.

Sincerely,
Matthew Terrus, President of the Federated Alliance
Henrik Kroidrik, Vice-President of the Federated Alliance
Boris Kresnov, Secretary of International Affairs of the Federated Alliance
Karl Vinemen, Ambassador of the Federated Alliance to Kangarawa

[coocoostan]

Coocoobad City Police,Coocoobad CFC, 9th Precinct

Captain Mikhail Arkatov had enjoyed a respite of several months. It had been a welcome change. Ever since Drozdov had found himself in jail, things had quieted right down. Whoever had taken control of the Brotherhood, or Bratva, had backed off on the Triads and the other gangs had largely dried up. He was particularly glad to see that two-bit motorcycle gang gone. They’d been on the verge of blowing the whole city wide open.

But that was as close as they’d come. The Anti-Gang Unit of the CCP, the only one of it’s kind in the country, had handled things relatively well. Still, there had been some unacceptable instances. McDass had been wounded nicely in the shootout at this very station. It’d kept him off the golf course until a few weeks after retirement, but he’d been debriefed forever anyhow. He had declined a trip to #1 Avenue of Heroes for that as per AGU policy, but Arkatov was still proud of his choice. They’d loaned people out to Yost mostly, as that city was proving to be quite potent for it’s small size.

He just began to think of what he would do next, when a man from foreign affairs walked in, he’d seen him after the Kangarawan Embassy had been half knocked down. Now THAT was the worst part of the gang war by far. It’d had killed Only one person, but she was the ambassador’s wife. They’d come to the country with open arms, only to be hit in the middle of the night. Chekist bastards. Still, they’d gotten theirs and so much more under this new Pakhomov. He was a bit of a riddle still, but he hated criminals and the Chekists were no exception.

The suit threw a newspaper onto his desk. “Read it.”

“Eat it?” Arkatov didn’t like to be bossed around. He picked it up.

“The Tasman Daily Telegraph. Looks horrible.”

“It is. They’ve got a problem that’s sort of like ours, only it’s smaller, but worse.”

— Begin quote from ____

Captain,

In light of your service in the past year, the Foreign Affairs Secretariat, in consultation with higher authorities, recommends that you contact the Kangarawan Embassy immediately and offer your expertise. A list of recommended personnel is attached for any hypothetical operations. Be advised that CCP and CM command has been advised and will provide any materiel or personnel necessary.

Sincerely,
Nadia Tereshkova
Secretary of Foreign Affairs

— End quote

“Wow, recommended hypothetical operations? That’s ballsy.”

"Just do it, Captain , it’s not a suggestion, no matter what that letter says.

He picked up the phone, to erase any lingering doubts. What would he tell them? He didn’t know much, but he did know that if this was all out of the ordinary, it would be related in all likelihood. Plus, they needed to look after this Subway Driver. Something always happened to people like that. Secondly, her name shouldn’t have made it into the damned paper. The leaks needed to be plugged. He had a few guys in mind, but it was all if they said yes.

[Reziel]

The Northern Grand Duchy – New Irem
The New Irem Secret Agency HQ - 02:27 PM

When the man entered the room, Lord Michael Tynian immediately signed him to sit down and to wait for him to finish with his work. Three minutes after, he subscribed the last document, closed the folder and then glanced at the agent.

«Excuse me for having forced you to wait, Sir Bradshaw. I’ve been told you wanted to talk with me… about the Scythes file, namely. First of all… allow me a single question: what makes you thinking we do have such a file? For what I’m allowed to know, that’s a Kangarawan issue. We have not been requested any form of assistance… have we?»

«My Lord… no. We haven’t»

«Interesting answer, indeed. And then… may I ask you what does this visit mean?»

«My Lord… I’ve just received a phone call from the kingdom of Black Panther Cats. It was… a close friend of my brother’s. Another… another Observer, to be exact. Well… it comes out that Landor knew the Kangarawan Vice President. Michael…»

«Michael De Vrie, I suppose» told the other man in a dry tone.

«Yes, my Lord. As you know… Sir De Vrie was my brother’s closest friend inside the Brotherhood. However… it seems my brother has met Lady Scythes during some kind of diplomatic ball or something like that. I do not know why… but Sir De Vrie believes Landor would have wanted to help her, had he had the chance to»

«Landor… or the Brotherhood?»

«Michael wasn’t speaking as a Brother, my Lord»

«It can well be… but you shouldn’t trust him too much. Remember: he’s always a Brother… before anything else. However… well… we happen to have a Scythes file, indeed. I had thought about someone else, to be honest… but I suppose you’ll be fit as well. Pack your things and be ready to leave for Tasman»

[Kandarin]

Tasmin City
Parliament Buildings
Office of the Interior Minister

Most Ministers’ official offices were serene, clean-swept affairs, with neat furniture and polished decor. They had to be, given the number of visitors that passed through them each day. Somewhere behind each of these was a smaller, less orderly office, usually without windows and appearing as if it had suffered repeated, merciless attacks from the Clutter Faeries. The Interior Minister was an exception; she had skipped the former office and operated exclusively out of the latter.

It was truly impressive, then, when none of the loose papers sitting in stacks about the office caught fire when the rug in the center of the office abruptly caught fire, erupting into a wild conflagration of flames that shot up to the ceiling, spraying sparks.

A woman of striking appearance stepped out of the fire. She was not especially tall, but nonetheless imposing. She was dressed entirely in a suit of black armor, into whose every surface an incredibly complicated series of runes were carved. The runes glowed red with the occasional touch of yellow, as did her eyes. Her hair was pitch-black and braided in a hundred different directions. She turned to the Minister and bowed. “Good evening.”

[Kangarawa]

The Kangarawan Embassy, Coocoobad, Coocoostan

“Ambassador, a Captain Arkatov from the 9th Precinct is on the line. Do you want to take it or would you like me to transfer it down to Security?”

Carolyn Masters, appointed as Ambassador to Coocoostan after Justin White had returned home following his wife’s death, glanced up from the mound of paperwork in front of her. “Did he give any idea of what this is in reference to?”

“No, ma’am.”

Hesitating only momentarily, Masters sighed. “Transfer him through please Mark, and ask Dmitri to come to my office. If it’s a security issue, we’ll both hear about it at the same time.”

As the call was transferred through, Masters picked up. “Captain Arkatov? Carolyn Masters. What can I do for you?”

[hr]

Parliament Buildings, Tasman City, Kangarawa
Office of the Minister of the Interior

Anne Truscott’s first clue that something was amiss was the smell of sulphur. She’d been so engrossed in one of the report’s she’d been reading that she hadn’t heard a thing.

Looking up, eyes wide-eyed in alarm, she panicked as her entire office was suddenly ablaze. Her papers, the floor, the furniture … but …nothing was actually burning! No smoke, no charring; just flames and sparks everywhere and the smell of sulphur permeating the room. Rising quickly to her feet, she sank back down into her chair clutching her chest as someone stepped out of the conflagration and took a step toward her.

In complete shock, Truscott just sat there, heart beating wildly in terror as the … woman … bowed, and then spoke. She couldn’t find the words with which to reply as her eyes kept darting between the figure in front of her and the raging fires. Finally, as she stared and nothing burned, she became angry and the anger gave her the impetus to speak.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? In fact, just who the hell do you think you are arriving in the midst of fire and brimstone?”

Octagonal Office
4:45 p.m.

When Fisher walked in, he saw yet another almost empty pot of coffee. “Just how much of that stuff have you had, Peter?”

Following his friend’s gaze, Mappins sighed. “Probably more than I should have had. What have you got?”

Speaking grimly as he sat down in the chair opposite Mappin’s desk, Fisher handed him the file folder he’d been carrying. “I’ll leave this with you, but the results on Chantal’s family are officially inconclusive. Oh, the Coroner knows they died of asphyxiation, but as to why they were still in their beds? Not enough to go on; they were all too badly burned. On the other hand, my two have bullet wounds in the backs of their skulls. No doubts as to the reasons they didn’t get out of their beds. I’d speculate that once they were taken care of, Chantal’s family was drugged. That’s the only reason I can think of that they wouldn’t have moved. Unofficially, the Coroner agrees. Damn it, Peter! That means that either Fox or Price was involved, or they both were, or they let someone they knew in. I have to believe it’s the last, but I can’t prove it, and it would take more than one person to subdue those two without rousing the others.”

Eyeing him sympathetically, Mappins shook his head. “Unless one or the other of them shows up, we’re not going to know, Charles. In the meantime, you’ve …”

“Yeah. I’ve always assumed that there were moles in the department. Claind’s in charge, remember? I may be Acting Secretary while he’s on leave, but his boys are all still there. Don’t worry. I’m not taking any chances.”

Mappins nodded. “Sorry. Should have known better.” Pausing, he looked at the folder for a moment and then back at Fisher. “I’ll look at this later. When I get home, I’ll talk to Chantal; give her your theory. I’ll find out when she wants to hold the funeral, and give her all the messages of condolence we’ve received: Dovakhan, Free Pacific States, Lazlow, numerous others along with Reziel. Her niece by marriage is the Ambassador in Reziel. They’re very close from what I understand.”

“OK. Have Danfield prepare another press release with the statement the Fire Marshall’s agreed to use. We’ll plan on having the “formal” funeral two days from now at St. Christopher’s. Keep it to family, and close friends, and find me a stand-in for Chantal. That can also go in the press release. We’ll indicate that in accordance with her wishes, the funeral will not be a state one.”

Favouring his right knee, Fisher rose. “Give her my best, Peter. I’ll find Danfield, and do yourself a favour. Stay off the coffee.”

[Lazlowia]

Embassy of Lazlowia, Tasman City, Kangarawa

Zsofia, a worker of the embassy, who looked after the letters the embassy received, took up a letter from the National Import-Export Co. The letter was for the Security Chief, Lazarevics István. She’ve already known what this means. She called a guard and told him to take tihs to Lazarevics.

The National Import-Export Co. was a front of the LTSZ. It was to avoid suspicion. The letters usually were some economical text, which contained hidden orders.

The guard went downstairs to the basement which was actually the HQ of the local branch of the LTSZ, Station K. Lazarevics was the head of the station. The basement was full with life. In one room, some woman were working with the radios and dicryptyon devices. In another office, a man was looking through some files. The guard went into the office of Lazarevics and gave him the letter. He read quickly the letter and than called in two man, two agents to be exact. Benz and Sándor.

“-We’ve just got a message form Lazlowgrad. We must get every information about the death of the Vice President’s family. You’ve probably read about that in the newspapers. Contact your informants and get everything you can get. We must know what they know, and mainly WHO did it. That’s all.”

The two man noded and went out of the office.

[Kandarin]

— Begin quote from ____

From: Rachel Penteleimon
To: Chantal Scythes

Chantal,
While I know I cannot truly understand how you feel today, I offer my condolences in your time of grief. My hopes and prayers go out to you and those close to you. I send with this letter a piece of our finest craftwork, made in your family’s memory. Please wear it in honor of them.

Sincerely,
Rachel

— End quote

---

The Parliament Buildings
Tasman City

“Fire and brimstone?” The armored figure feigned offense. “But Anne…I thought you liked fire.” Reaching into the nearest fire, burning atop a bundled stack of recquisition forms, she pulled out a copy of the Tasman Daily Telegraph, displaying the headline of two days previous. “I can read a newspaper, you know. I know you and yours want something very badly. And you have something that I want. I think we can help each other. But,” She reached out a hand, “No need to be so impersonal about it. You can call me Lucy. Let’s talk.”

[coocoostan]

CPD Precinct 9

Arkatov froze, as the line came back again suddenly. “Um, hello Ambassador, I’m Captain Viktor Arkatov, from the CPD Anti-Gang Unit. I’ve received a, quote, suggestion from the Foreign Affairs Secretariat that I should see about assisting you with this…business you have going on in your country. Basically, the reason I agreed to call you, instead of sending the bureaucrat who came here packing, like I usually do, is that I think I can actually help you out. The Anti-Gang unit is relatively unoccupied these days, as I’m sure you’ve heard. We’re a carefully selected group of roughly one hundred officers, trained in special weapons, surveillance, intelligence and investigation, amongst other things. Basically, without sounding full of myself, we are the best police unit in this country. Now, I know about this internal division you have and I can tell you I can relate. I was a National police officer back when the CNP was full of Chekists. I know what it’s like to be looking over your shoulder all the time. Pretty much, I would prefer to be a sort of adviser, maybe a second set of ears for your people to run ideas by, I’d bring my own and we’d basically question everything that seemed out of line. Plus…” he lowered his voice.

“Any…unsavoury, persons involved in the investigation would be spotted by us in all likelihood, because we don’t have prior relationships to cloud our judgement. Now, I would have never thought to get involved on my own, but Foreign Affairs is committed to this, I think it’s the president’s way of making up…for what happened last year…personally, I’d like to make it up to all of you as well. At any rate, do you think such an offer would be appealing? Or are we way off base here?”

National Military Watch Centre, Coocoobad Garrison

The message having been proofread, the signalman sent it to the appropriate authority.

— Begin quote from ____

PPPP TOP SECRET PPPP
FM: NMWC COOCOOBAD
TO: DEFENCE MINISTRY TASMAN
SUBJ: HIT LOCATION
BODY: HIT LOCATED AT CO-ORDINATES XXXXXXXX APPX 250 KM NW KINTESH,KINTESH OBLAST, COOCOOSTAN. SURVEILLANCE BY AIR AND GROUND REVEALED A CAMP OF APPX 90 TO 120 SUSPECTED MERCENARIES, APPX 5 TECHNICALS. FEDERAL SECURITY SERVICE ADVISES GROUP IS REVIVAL OF SAME GROUP BELIEVED RESPONSIBLE FOR RKT ATTK ON KANG EMBASSY. COOCOOBAD GIVES PRESIDENTIAL AUTHORITY FOR WHATEVER ACTION TASMAN DEEMS NECESSARY, ENDING ON 31 MAY 07. ANY AIRCRAFT INVOLVED IN SAME ARE TO USE CALLSIGNS SPINDLE 01-10 AS NECESSARY. GOOD LUCK.

— End quote

[Kangarawa]

The Kangarawan Embassy, Coocoobad, Coocoostan

Arkatov had barely finished introducing himself when Dmitri Kostrov, Masters’ Chief of Security entered the office. Putting the phone on speaker, Masters allowed Arkatov to finish without interruption.

As a result of last year’s … fiasco … David Miller, part of the Department of Foreign Affairs, had briefed her before she’d been assigned to Coocoostan. He didn’t believe in sending his Ambassadors out unprepared. She was somewhat aware of what Arkatov was talking about, but his reference to the “internal division” in Kangarawa was news to her. That fact and that alone, made it imperative that she receive some direction before giving him a definitive reply. Looking over at Kostrov for confirmation, she returned his nod before replying.

“Captain, I can’t tell you how much we appreciate the offer of help both from your Foreign Affairs Secretariat, but especially from you, yourself. Your offer isn’t off base at all, but I simply don’t have the authority to accept it without checking with my superiors first. If you don’t mind, I’ll get back to you; my guess would be sometime tomorrow. You know how slowly the wheels of bureaucracy turn. Again, thank you.”

Ending the call, she turned to Kostrov raising an eyebrow.

“Well?”

“Seems like a reasonable offer. Can’t see anyone turning it down. What was he talking about when he referred to the “internal division”?”

Masters shrugged. “No idea; perhaps a difference of opinion amongst the various Ministries. I’ll find out more. Thanks, Dmitri, and sorry for wasting your time. I just assumed it had something to do with Security here at the Embassy.”

“Not a problem, Ambassador. Will there be anything else?”

Smiling, Masters shook her head. “No. I’ll call Foreign Affairs now; get some direction.”

Returning to his office, Kostrov, too, made a phone call; an encrypted one.

[hr]

Ministry of Defence, Tasman City, Kangarawa
Communications Centre

“Sir? This just in. Priority 1.”

“Thanks, Private. I’ll take it from here.” Quickly scanning the message, the Lieutenant pursed his lips thoughtfully. Walking quickly to his office, he dialled an internal extension. “I have something you need to see. It requires an immediate response.”

“Yes, Sir. On my way.”

Within fifteen minutes the Lieutenant had returned, walking over to the comm station where the initial message had been received. “Private, I’ll send the reply on this one myself.”

“Yes, Sir.” Rising, the signalman took advantage of the unexpected opportunity to grab a cup of coffee. The responses to that type of message were often sent by the higher ups; he thought nothing more of it.

— Begin quote from ____

PPPP TOP SECRET PPPP
FM:  DEFENCE MINISTRY TASMAN
TO:  NMWC COOCOOBAD
SUBJ:  HIT LOCATION
BODY:  RE: HIT LOCATED AT CO-ORDINATES XXXXXXXX APPX 250 KM NW KINTESH, KINTESH OBLAST, COOCOOSTAN.  PRESIDENTIAL AUTHORITY GRANTED TO ALLOW TASMAN TO GRATEFULLY DECLINE OFFER TO TAKE ACTION AGAINST HIT LOCATION.  THANKS OFFERED.

— End quote

Secure in the knowledge that any questions regarding the message would come directly to him, the Lieutenant resumed his regular duties.

[hr]

The Parliament Buildings, Tasman City
Office of the Minister of the Interior

Instinctively, Anne extended her hand, grasping that of the other of the woman. No, not human; certainly not from around here … high tech judging by armour … Pulling herself together with great effort, she released Lucy’s hand and pointed to the empty, but still flaming chair in front of her desk.

“Have a seat, Lucy,” she said dryly, heart still beating wildly. “Let’s assume, for the moment anyway, that I have some idea of what you’re referring to. What exactly do you want?”

[Reziel]

The Northern Grand Duchy – New Irem
The Fortress – Council Hall

Sighing, the New Iremian Grad Duke raised his hand, signing the noble to stop speaking.

«We do all understand your point, Lord Mumford. Really. Being close relatives to the Vice-President of our greatest ally in the east Pacific, they would deserve a state funeral. Our Protocol would require us to ship the talons to Tasmin City… together with our whole Governmental staff. Trust me: I do agree. And I would be happy to follow that guideline. But… I simply can’t. Lady Scythes has requested a private funeral… Lady Scythes will have it»

«With all due respect, Lord Reziel…» interjected the old noble, his face barely able to hide the horror he was feeling in that moment «…the Tradition cannot…»

«What Reziel is trying to say, Lord Mumford, is that they do not care at all about our Tradition… and they’re fully entitled not to. Round here, we’re not the Almighty Iremian Empire, whose word was law for the whole surroundings. Round here, we’re a nation between many others… some of which happen to be far more important than us. Moreover, 90% of these nations… they simply do not share our same viewpoint on ‘essentiality’. For us, a double column of armored knights is essential to properly honor the dead… for them, it’s not. Period. Therefore… we’ll bow to such desire» told Lachdanan, clearly showing he was beginning to lose his patience, as the discussion seemed definitely a bit pointless.

«But… well, I suppose I’ll have to surrender to such barbarisms. But… what about the Eternal Guards? Will we send…»

«Acting as both fourth in the line of succession and as a personal friend of Lady Janus, Arian of the De Cordes has reached the highest tower of the Fortress this morning. He will be their Eternal Guard» nodded Reziel.

«Are you sure about him? I mean… his recent experience and his young age…» wondered the noble, trying to figure the picture of the young Cadet standing there, day and night, to look over the passage of the souls.

«Don’t worry: he won’t let the fire to extinguish… nor he will fall asleep. He’ll stay there for the three days the Tradition requires» Reziel answered, signing Lachdanan to ignore the doubtful question and to calm down

«I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied. So… only Prince Lachdanan will attend the ceremony on behalf of the Grand Duchy, right?»

«That’s not exact. Lachdanan won’t attend the funeral as a representative of our nation. He’ll be there only to accompany Lady Janus»

Sighing, the old noble shook his head. Things were changing far too fast. Not only it wouldn’t have been a proper ceremony, but their one representative won’t have represented them at all, being just the… companion of a foreign diplomat. Who was her mate… without such a thing having been made official. Discomfited, the old man rose on his feet, slightly bowing to the two nobles.

When he finally left room, the New Iremian Colonel relaxed on his armchair, grinning with disbelief.

«He will never accept the fact he’s not in Irem anymore, will he?»

«No, Lachdanan… he won’t. Just as many other nobles, sadly. But trust me: the time will come when you’ll realize this is not a thing to be laughed at. However… let’s not waste our time with such a discussion. The flight to Tasmin has already been arranged. It will be only you, Marilyn… and Howard Bradshaw»

«NISA?»

«Yep. We’re still waiting for a request coming from the Kangarawans… but having our man already in Tasmin won’t hurt a all»

[coocoostan]

CPD 9th Precinct

Arkatov sighed as the line clicked. Putting the phone down, he knew he’d hit a brick wall. He wasn’t sure that the embassy was the best place to start to be honest, after all, it had been the embassy that had hidden that motorcycle gangster and his girlfriend. Sparks, was it? Regardless, the embassy was not quite the transparent institution it was supposed to be. He remembered the marines there had been for the most part ok, with their Lieutenant seeming to be trustworthy, but the civilian head of security worried him. Kostrov, he remembered that weasel. He had to be in on this Gorkyist sect. Was that even his name? NS Wiki would sort that out. As he browsed, he realized that they’d never gotten to the bottom of the Kangarawan Embassy here and just what they’d been doing, besides harbouring criminals.

National Military Watch Centre, Coocoobad Garrison
General Lee Murphy was somewhat confused. “They turned it down?”
His commander of the Army, Lieutenant-General Bishop, looked back at him. “They did, although they didn’t really say why. What do you want to do about it Murph?” Murphy gave him a don’t call me Murph in front of the troops look. They walked out of the command building, across the tarmac to the General’s house. The Coocoobad Garrison was small, only the presidential guard and some of the Air Force personnel here lived on the base, with the Air Force being moved to live with the Coast Guard. They walked into the house and eventually his office, on the top floor. It was only a small two story building, but it was home and only a 3 minute drive from the President’s House, or the Capitol.

“So, who is running the Kang military these days? I know they’ve got their problems, but who exactly is it?”

“I think it’s man named Montgomery, but we can get to the bottom of it.”

Within an hour, the General was connected with his Kagarawan counterpart. “Good morning, my name’s General Lee Murphy, Chief of Staff for the Coocoostan Military, now who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

[Dovakhan]

Phoenix Airways Flight 2212
Service to Tasman City

As the final descent into Tasman City began, Agent 0122 looked out the window onto the gleeming city. He laughed, thinking to himself that half the East Pacific’s intellegence agencies must have descended onto this place in search of answers to their own unique questions. His mission was to find out who was behind the attacks, their motive, and most of all what threat their posed to the Republic-Khanates.

Later that day, Agent 0122 settled into the flophouse he’d be staying in. He scanned the file that had been waiting for him when he got there. It consisted of a list of Cabinet members, their addresses, their political leanings, and the people that surrounded them (including the maids that cleaned the rooms). He then pulled out a map of the city, locating Parliament and certain privileged locations that had been hinted at from previous research.

[Kangarawa]

Department of Foreign Affairs, Tasman City, Kangarawa
David Miller’s Office

“Nice to hear from you, Carolyn. What can I do for you?” Miller’s thirty-five years in the diplomatic corps and his gentle manner made him far more approachable than Carolyn Peters, the Minister.

Carefully, Masters explained the call from Arkatov as Miller doodled on a pad in front of him. Arkatov could only be referring to one thing when he spoke of the “internal division”. Miller knew about it because of his relationship with Chris Hayes, but Masters wasn’t cleared. Add to that her damned chief of Security …

“Let me get right back to you, Carolyn. Interesting proposal. I’ve no idea what he’s talking about either, to be honest, but it could well be related to what happened at the Embassy last year and the problems with communication we had back here. Did he leave a number by chance? … Good. … No, not a problem at all. I should be back in touch by tomorrow or so. Take care.”

Replacing the receiver, he immediately dialled an encrypted line. “Chris? David Miller. Can we meet?” Glancing at the clock on his desk, he nodded. “Yeah. I can be there in twenty minutes. Haven’t had one of those in … oh, a good six months anyway. See you in a while.” Again replacing the receiver, Miller rose from his desk, told his secretary he was heading out for a bite to eat, and walked down to the skewered devils stand about fifteen minutes from the Parliament Buildings. Ordering one skewer of roasted tasmanian devils and a platter of rice, he grabbed a small bench as far away from the stand as he could. Within another five minutes he was joined by Chris Hayes, carrying two cups of coffee.

“Here, David. What’s up?”

Miller picked up the coffee, took a sip, and then related Masters story concisely, handing Banks the piece of paper with Arkatov’s phone number on it. “No doubt in my mind, Chris. The Coocoostanis have recognised the Faction. Masters doesn’t know a thing, but you recall that bombing at the Embassy last year? Justin White lost his wife. He was a great judge of character; mistrusted his security chief but could never but his finger on why. Kostrov worked with Katharine Alexander in Wachovia as well. Same concerns, but again, nothing definite. Thought I’d make you aware of the situation. Anything in particular you want me to tell Masters?”

Hayes thought quietly for a moment. “Ask her, no, tell her to thank Arkatov for his offer, but that having been in touch with the Foreign Office, she’s been given no authority to take him up on his offer.”

Miller chuckled quietly. “Nicely phrased. I assume that means you’ll contact him?” Grinning, Hayes nodded, rose and walked away, leaving Miller to stare in dismay at the plate in front of him.

[hr]

KA1B
General Richard McKinstrey’s Office

“Good morning, General. This is Dick McKinstrey, General Dick McKinstrey, Chief of Staff of the Kangarawan Armed Forces. What can I do for you?”