The Most Elusive of Prey

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1

(OOC: Just as an fyi, this RP is closed off to others, pls no post in da thread tanks)

September 21st, 2018; The Rijelvan Royal Palace, Hoosina…

Throughout her life, the young Empress Sofiya dreamed of bringing the lost provinces of Rijelv back into her sphere of influence. The corrupted politicians appointed through rigged elections and the power-hungry dictators who surged to power only through violence descended the provinces into chaos, famine, and death. Pacing back and forth under the high roof of the main hall of her royal family’s ancient castle, Sofiya was listening to her most trusted advisor, Klaus von Hauser, who was going over his plan on how to execute the promise Sofiya had made to her citizens.

“…and I know how you feel about committing these acts, but I see no better option, Your Highness.”

Still pacing, Sofiya asked, “Is this really the only way? Are there truly no other paths we could take?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Highness. We’ve attempted all other courses of action: Diplomacy, Blackmail, Bribes, all to no avail.”

The Empress stopped pacing at the foot of her throne. Arms crossed, she looked at her advisor with a somber expression.

“If it’s the only way we can bring our nation back together, and you see no other alternative, I give you permission to execute your plan,” she said in a solemn tone.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I assure you you will not be disappointed with the results, and soon enough your realm will be whole again.”

A week later, outside the city limits of Wurlenburg, New Malavia, 2:30 AM…

Standing behind a billboard next to a Salovi Tillenia (OOC: a Chevy Malibu) was Jürgen Hassendorf, but most people know him as “Der Schalldämpfer,” the greatest hitman in Rijelv and the surrounding areas. A quiet beep came from his modified handheld mp3 player. He pulled it out, pressed the button on the side, and a man’s voice began to come through.

“Alright, Schalldämpfer, your target tonight is Williym von Häuner, dictator of New Malavia. You may recognize that he shares the same surname as your empress. This is because Williym is the uncle of Sofiya. He is believed to have been the force behind the assassination of our late emperor Albürt von Häuner, but the general public is unaware of such information. Your goal tonight is to take out Williym as discreetly as possible, without a soul noticing. Make it look like a suicide, and you will be awarded with additional payment.”

2

New Malavia, outside the Palace of Nobles, 4:25 AM…

Hassendorf, perched on a large oak tree just outside of his target’s abode, was contemplating his next move. Through the darkness, he had gotten past the palace’s security system: an unnecessarily intricate system of surveillance cameras (now disabled), a group of guards and guard dogs (all unconscious, now lining the inside of the compound’s walls), and a series of alarms partially hidden by the overgrown grass (now all destroyed).

From his perch, Hassendorf could see that the dictator was hosting one of the numerous socials he was famous for. Notable leaders and celebrities of the local area were in attendance, each window hosting a different conversation, or argument, or some lone sap drowning themselves in Malavian beer. But they were all irrelevant. Williym was his one and only target. He spent a few minutes with his sights on the tyrant, looking at him through one of the many brightly-lit windows of the manor. How would he be able to make this look like a suicide with all these people around? Hassendorf looked to his right, and noticed there was a single window without a light on: his way in.

He jumped to a nearby tree, and meandered through its branches until he was face-to-face with the window. From his angle, it looked almost as if the window opened to a portal into a dark alternate dimension. He gazed into the window for a moment, then snapped out of his mind and attempted to pull it open. Lucky for him von Häuner left it unlocked to let drunks vomit out into the courtyard rather than all over his newly-refurbished bathroom. Hassendorf, after opening the window and hopping through it, could barely make out the darkened room, but he knew it was the master bathroom just from the sheer size of it.

Hassendorf sat in the darkness of the carved-porcelain and gold-adorned room. He spent the next few moments pulling out a few devices- night vision goggles, digital map etc.- and a long black suitcase. He put the goggles on, and pulled up the map with the floorplan of the Palace of Nobles, and began strategizing his next course of act-

click

(OOC: Next part coming tomorrow)

3

The bathroom door began to creak open, letting in a golden sliver of light accompanied by the shadow of the figure opening the door. As the crack in the door quickly widened, the light shone into one of Hassendorf’s eyes, but not enough to be noticed thanks to his quick thinking to move to the corner. The more the door opened, the more the shadow grew, and the more Hassendorf’s desperation grew. He fought the urge to move until the absolute right moment.

flick

At the same moment the bathroom lights were turned on, Hassendorf pounced on his victim, and covered their mouth to muffle any noise they made. Hassendorf kicked the door back closed, but this gave the figure a chance to slip out of the hitman’s grip, and they jolted to the opposite end of the room. This gave Hassendorf the chance to see who he was dealing with. To his delight, it was none other than his target von Hauner!

Whilst catching his breath, von Hauner asked, “Come to kill me, have you?”

Hassendorf didn’t respond. Entertaining his target would only buy von Hauner time. The hitman strode towards the dictator.

“Who sent you? Likiyya? Hans?” a moment passed, and his eyes widened. “Klaus sent you, didn’t he? How much is he paying you? I’ll be happy to double whatever he’s offered you!”

Only a few steps more and Williym would be a goner. The New Malavian began to back away into his bedroom from Hassendorf and the connected bathroom in which he stood, effectively cornering himself against his nightstand.

In desperation, Williym began ranting, “He thinks he can rule from the sidelines while dear Sofiya’s head has been filled with lies! She doesn’t know the truth!”

While still walking, albeit slower, and very much against his better judgement, the hitman asked,

“What do you mean by the truth?”

“Your Queen is not the one in charge, min tutliqar fraund (my deadly friend).”

By the time Williym finished his sentence, Hassendorf had situated his forearm against the dictator’s throat. While von Hauner struggled to get Hassendorf off of him, the hitman asked,

“Could you elaborate?”

Through his strained breathing, von Hauner said, “Klaus…wheeze…Sofiya’s advisor…wheeze…fooled Rijelv…wheeze…I was elected…wheeze…he killed Alburt…”

Hassendorf stood there for a moment, unsure of what to make of this. They must have been lies to try and persuade him to let Williym go. Regardless, it didn’t matter what the truth was. He came here to get a job done, and Hassendorf never left a job undone. The hitman subsequently knocked von Hauner unconscious.

Opening the black suitcase, Hassendorf found all the items he needed to properly execute von Hauner. He strode back over to the man’s unconscious body, and propped him up in a nearby chair. Reaching down into the suitcase he pulled out a long rope, and tied one end to the ceiling fan, with the other wrapped around the target’s neck. Standing the body up, Hassendorf kicked the chair away, and let go of the body. The hitman collected the suitcase and all of the other gadgets accompanying him, and left the way he entered. He could’ve swore he heard someone screaming behind him.

4

Back at The Rijelvan Royal Palace, Hoosina, September 29th, 0930…

“…there were no survivors. And next up: Tragedy has struck New Malavia. Ruthless dictator and uncle to our beloved Queen Sofiya, Williym von Hauner, was found dead in his bedroom last night. Investigators report that it was most likely a suicide. We spoke with officer-”

Klaus turned off the flat screen television in his office, with a quiet smirk on his face. The first step in his plans had been completed. Soon he would-

knock knock

Looking up at the door, Klaus said, “Come in.”

The door swung open to reveal Hassendorf, who stepped through the doorway and proceed to walk towards Klaus’ desk.

“Ah! Just the man I wanted to see! I’ve been informed of your success in achieving your goal. Here is your sum of money, as promised,” he said, gesturing towards a briefcase holding the cash guaranteed to Hassendorf.

“While I have you, Schalldämpfer, there is another request that I might have for you, depending on how the summit with the Kaisenburg and Hanzia officials, and a few other events I don’t have the need to elaborate on goes. Should they go as planned, your services will not be required, but please be on standby until the conclusion of the meeting.”

A hesitant moment passed. He thought back to Williym’s last words “…he killed Alburt.” What exactly did he mean by that? Who was he referring to? He pushed these questions to the back of his mind. It wasn’t his job to know or even care about the answers to these questions, and decidedly nodded in acknowledgement to Klaus’ request.

“A thousand thanks, Schalldämpfer. You have proved very consequential in furthering our grand nation’s goals.”

After politely offering a shallow bow to the Queen’s advisor, Hassendorf turned around and left the building.

5

The same day in Palsen, southeastern New Malavia on the border with Rijelv…

Wilfred, a young teenager in New Malavia, was in school when he had heard about the President’s assassination. It didn’t really affect him personally, but he could see that all the adults were affected by the news. His mathematics teacher Mrs. Friedenhoff was visibly distraught at the news, and it was all anyone was talking about amongst his classmates. The teaching regimen for the day had been cancelled, and instead the teachers had put on the news, where Vice President Josef Bauermann could be seen taking the oath of office at the podium in front of the Presidential Palace.

In his next class, Staynish 101, newly-appointed President Bauermann addressed his fellow citizens, hitting the important political talking points in a situation like this, such as expressing grief for his predecessor, expressing solemn gratitude for the opportunity to serve, and expressing his intention to uphold that office to the “highest standard as my forebear had done so,” as he put it. Wilfred couldn’t help but think all this “expressing” was simply a facade. His Staynish teacher Mr. Schmidt, seemed to think so too. The stocky old professor was sure that President Bauermann, who came second in the general election, making him the Vice President, was much happier about this unfortunate circumstance than he put on. Mr. Schmidt even suggested that Bauermann may have had an assassination stage his death to look like a suicide.

Wilfred’s last class, History, was on the other side of the school building, and whilst walking through a hallway that overlooked the front pavilion and parking lot of the school, the young teen could have sworn he saw a large plane in the distance. He thought nothing of it, and continued on his way.

Arriving in History, the TV in this classroom was following a new, yet albeit still related story about the Rijelvan High Advisor Klaus von Hauser arriving to offer his condolences. The news footage showed his airplane landing in the large town of Ürssestein, home to the Presidential Palace, and located centrally within the nation. The brown-haired man stepped out of the jet’s door and continued onwards to greet the new President personally. As the brown-haired man entered his motorcade, the school bell rang, signalling the end of the day.

Living on the outskirts of Palsen on his family’s farm, Wilfred walked home from school every weekday. For him, the walk was a nice contrast from the loud and chaotic middle schoolers he went to school with, and the warm glow of the setting sun behind him gave plenty of light to see where he needed to go. As he passed the third house on the right, he greeted the local stray tabby with some leftover fish sticks from lunch, and continued on his way.

As he approached his quaint home, a low rumble began to shake the ground beneath him. His first thought was an Urthquake, but that thought was immediately changed the moment he turned his head down the road, where he could see an army of tanks making its way towards the young Malavian. He quickly rushed into his house before the tanks made it to him. A few moments passed, and soon enough the tanks rolled right past his window, shaking the picture frames hung up on the walls. Eventually the rumbling subsided, and Wilfred built up the courage to check his window to see if the tanks had left. He looked towards the setting sun, and sure enough off in the horizon he could see the line of tanks headed west. Young Wilfred couldn’t have known then, but those tanks were headed straight for the capital to begin the hostile takeover of New Malavia.

6

September 29th, 2018, 21:05. Somewhere in Rijelv…

It was almost as if everyone around him wanted him as ruler. Every vote in the parliament swayed his way without so much as a suggestion, every royal decree by dear sweet Sofiya favored his plans with barely a request given, and even the neighboring nations’ people had elected lame-duck puppets without any persuasion from his end, the politicians waiting for someone to pick up the strings and make them dance to a puppetmaster’s tune. It all seemed too good to be true; yet here he was, poised to ascend to King-like grace and majesty. Willym, the democracy-loving traitor that he was, had been taken care of in a style fit for a treasoner, and New Malavians throughout had practically capitulated without a single drop of blood spilt. Bauermann, the newest puppet to join Klaus’ play, had been given the task of giving a rallying speech to the New Malavians to suggest a political union with Rijelv. The royal advisor sat back in his leather recliner, turned on the television, and watched intently to ensure “Pinocchio” sang his song accordingly…

“My fellow Malavians, these past few years as your vice president have been some of the most eye-opening and humbling in all my years of public service. So much has been accomplished and in such a short period of time it’s baffling to me that we used to live in a low-income nation devastated by war and famine. Yet here I stand as your President, and across the board, in nearly every statistic, in almost every aspect of life, New Malavia has improved at speeds unseen in the region for decades. Although I am your President due to the tragic and sudden death of President von Häuner, Ereus bring him peace, it brings me great happiness to see that our people have risen from the ashes of conflict in greater health than we have ever been in our life as a nation. We are in such great health that I daresay we may call ourselves the equals to that of Rijelv, our Sister to the South and East. And as equals, it astounds me that Her Grace would approve the invasion of our new nation…”

Klaus sat forward again, eyes narrowing in annoyance that this oaf of a man would dare stray from the speech. What was this “astounds me” and “invasion” bickmisht Klaus was listening to?! And he had the audacity to insult his Queen!

He rose from his chair, walked to the landline, and made a few calls. Although he wished he could simply remove Bauermann like he had done with Willym, he knew that wasn’t an option, especially now. No, this time required a bit more finesse, and perhaps a pinch of blackmail to remind Bauermann where he stands in this game…

7

“…and as long as I am your President, I shall not let our nation be subject to another! As long as I am your President, we shall remain free! That much I can say, and I will do everything in my power to hold true to it. Rijelv has encroached into our eastern plains, and I cannot allow that.”

On the podium sat a piece of parchment with a novel’s worth of words written on it. Bauermann took a moment to sign it, and held it up for the audience and the news cameras to take a good look.

“This is a mandate declaring that all available military personnel be reassigned to the eastern border to prevent any further encroachment upon our lands. No Malavian military personnel are to act hostile towards our Rijelvan neighbors without probable cause. Should there be probable cause, and that cause proves to be worth the hostility, I will ask the Council to declare war upon Rijelv. Take this as a warning, Your Grace.”

He was speaking directly to the Queen at this point, staring into the camera, “Please do not let this tension break out into another bout of despair and sadness for our people. Call back your troops, and avoid further death.”

The end of the speech was met with mostly positive applause and cheering, but there were those amongst the crowd who wouldn’t applaud, as war may very well be upon the two nations, and that wasn’t something deserving applause. Bauermann walked away from the podium outside the Presidential Palace with a countenance bearing the weight of what had just been done. He had in the back of his mind the thoughts of what his actions would cost him when it came to Klaus, but if he were to subvert his operations successfully, Bauermann needed to move fast and silent, more silent than even Klaus operated at to assassinate his predecessor. He thought back to when he had first signed onto Klaus’ plans to become a cog in his machine. It was years ago, and Bauermann had just been chosen to be Willym’s runner-up. Behind his back, Bauermann had met with Klaus in secret about a “lucrative deal” Klaus had in mind…

“Sorry, did you just say ‘remove Willym from the picture?’”

“Yes, Bauermann. It’s a sacrifice that must be had in order for peace to finally sweep through our lands. That man is not who he appears to be.”

“What do you mean!? He’s gotten our nation this far, and I truly believe that he will lead us int-”

“Bauermann! Trust me on this. It won’t be pleasant, but it is a necessary thing that must be done. Now, can I entrust you to execute these plans?”

A moment of hesitation.

“Well, Bauermann?”

Josef spent another moment thinking about it, before finally responding, “Very well, but you must ensure to me that no others must come to harm.”

“You have my word.”

Snapping out of his thoughts as he walked towards the Presidential motorcade, Bauermann pressed the earpiece in his left ear, and said, “Meeting in two minutes; you know where. There is something important that I must ask of you.”

8

Elynn had been waiting around for five minutes. She wasn’t surprised that Bauermann was late, as he had always been lacking punctuality even when the two were younger. She gave off a short chuckle at the thought of a young Bauermann, young and reckless, seeing the man he would come to be.

She leaned against the concrete pylon behind her, and looked up at the massive structure. Looming above her, the 30 foot tall pylon propped up an elevated railway, along with numerous other identical pylons like it. The railway was a remnant of an infrastructure project begun in the 1930’s by the Salovians; an attempt to increase productivity to fuel further colonialism throughout Gondwana. This of course was a failed attempt, evidenced by the fact that the entirety of the rail could be seen at once.

Elynn was just about to run out of patience when she saw a dark silhouette out of the corner of her eye, moving her way. The shadow’s slight limp off to the left was her indicator that it was Bauermann. As he approached closer, his face could be seen from the faint light of his cigarette.

Moving her head to face the Vice President, “Punctual as usual, I see. Say, where in the world is your entourage?”

“Look Elynn, I wish I could talk longer and catch up, but this is the most important thing that I will ever ask of you, and if you succeed I will be forever in your debt, and I’m already cutting it close.”

He flicked the cigarette onto the floor, stomping it out, and pulled a folder out from inside his coat.

“This has everything you need to know about your target. I need you to expose and silence them.”

Elynn took the folder, and queried, “You really mean business this time, don’t you? This must be some serious shit.”

Josef, after a long moment’s silence, said, “It’s a matter of life and death. Fail, and watch this country burn.”

Elynn felt the air get heavy.

“Alright, I’ll get it done.”

“Please don’t fail Elynn.”

Elynn scoffed before retorting, “I’ve never failed you before yet have I?”

A faint smile wrinkled Bauermann’s old face slightly. “Thank you, Elynn. Good luck.”