09-12-2007, 07:55 PM
The head of Bretonian Intelligence operations was horrified at the images on the screens in front of him. Transmitted by his Rhienland counterpart were images of the most appalling atrocities. Wounded security personnel and civilians littered the street still. Bretonian Armed Forces groud troops we're grauding the area, identifying and removing the bodies of at least 150 people. The Intelligence Chief had already seen these image, but they still turned his blood cold. He saw near the edge of the screen a reporter wrestling with some soldiers as they confiscated his recording equipment. He started shouting abuse at them, and threw a piece of rubble at one. Two soldiers ran in the direction of the man, but were lost from view.
He had the file in front of him when the emergency broadcast reached him. One hundred and sixty two people dead; seventy three children and twelve Bretonian Police among them.
The Rhienland Intelligence Minister finally cleared his throat and spoke. "As you see, your attempts to hush up this massacre were poor at best. Our man transmitted this to us less than two hours ago. We've not told the Kusarian or Liberty agencies yet. If you want this kept quiet then you'll do as your told."
"I'll play along for now, what do you want?", was the reply. The Bretonian Intelligence Minister had been his position for the better part of thirteen years. He was known in the Intelligence circles as a formidable, calculated opponent. This was all bravado, he was terrified of his job, his colleges, but he knew how to handle most situations. He was the most successful Intel Chief the Queen had ever appointed.
His reply shocked the Rhineland Intel Minister, although his face never betrayed this fact. He never thought it would be this easy, the Brets must be falling to pieces, this was juicy intell and he knew it. Exclusive to him and he knew that it was only good for a few more hours before some loud mounted reporter had it all over the Siruis News Channels.
"Who was responsible for these attacks?", asked the Rhienland Minister.
"Attack-SSS? There's been more than one"
Sh*t, he'd already made a mess of this.
"What do you mean, attackSSS? There's been more than one?", the Bretonian Chief pressured.
"Yes. We've suffered from a similar incident some days ago, but our Military isn't as sloppy as yours. We don't let opposing agents video tape and then transmit top secret information." The Bretonian knew this already, he'd lost too many of his agents in Rhienland territory already.
"Well who do you done this?" The Bretonian Chief was determined to wrestle control of this conversation back into his hands.
"You answer first, I'm not in the mood to debate this, remember the tape"
"Fine, we suspect a Pirate that goes by the callsign 'Tortured_Soul'"
"The one referred to in this document?" ++ File Received, Click to Open ++
"I assume the Bounty Hunter gave you this? A little money goes a long way with them"
"I assure you, no money changed hands, now answer my question"
"Yes, it's the same man. Although his criminal record has much extended now."
"Indeed, let's see your last estimate put it at thirteen murders, hundreds of counts of people trafficing altough exclusively Bounty Hunters to pirate groups, robbery, fleeing from police, fleeing from the military...yes. Quiet a resume, we can agree. I want to know where he is?"
"Why's that?"
"He murdered at least four hundred as many civilians, three days ago. I want to throw him out the nearest airlock."
"He's still a Bretonian citizen, we have the extradition treaty, we -"
"We both know that the laws of our countries mean nothing to men like us. I want him dead, and I suspect you want him dead just as badly. It is your brother he murdered after all isn't it?"
A cold chill filtered through the room, as he realised his game was done. Marcus Felstrom had been murdered six months ago, but his newest concern was that his identity was known now. His face betrayed him for too long.
"Ahh, so it is true. It was just a rumour in the high ranks but I thought I'd test it out. Seems worth it now. I wouldn't worry, I've no interest in you now, and I suspect that you'll give up office in a few hours anyway, but I want that pilot, and I want him now"
The snake-like intake of breath cut through the air like a blade as the Rhienland Minister watched in horror as the barrel of a Rhienland firearm was gently placed against the side of the Bretonian's head. The colour drained from Domonic Felstrom's face as he felt the cooled carbon-steel barrel rest up against his temple. A short 'God forgive me', escaped his lips as the trigger was pulled and the plasma pistol discharged. No gore, the wound was cauterized instantly as the superheated air left by the plasma burned the flesh of the wound.
"If you want me, come and get me Minister." His voice was barely a whisper, but had the power and malice that could terrorise an army, it was far from soft, yet no harshness could be discerned.
"You only have a few minutes though, no doubt the tightness in your chest has become enough to concern you. Particularly after what you've just witnessed. That bag of mints your daughter bought you last week had a hidden surprise. Coated just thick enough that you wouldn't notice the difference, but it would take days to break down in your stomach. The anti-acids you take slowed the process down slightly but well worth the wait. I suppose that one or both of you are recording this so, for the attention of the next Intelligence chiefs of Bretonia and Rhienland. Do not attempt to chase me. Do not attempt to stop me. Do not attempt to buy me out. Do not attempt to screw me over. These are mistakes of your predecessors made and these are the mistakes they died for."
Desperate to stop the man, even if meant he had to let the Bret's bring him in, with his last few minutes, he called the Bretonian Military and told them that the man was there, that the tortured soul was there and that he'd killed the Intelligence Chief. The man on the phone laughed, "Aren't you a little old to be placing prank calls, sir?" He watched a tall, slim man dressed head to toe in obsidian black step out the elevator and head for the door. He checked the alarm board, everything was well. He ended the transmission and went back to scanning the entering people.
Two hours later the body of the Bretonian Intelligence Chief was found with a single Plasma wound to the head. All the alarms in his office, state of the art tamper proof alarms had been deactivated or hard-wired so that they wouldn't sound. The recording never revealed the face of the assassin but was played to the Bretonian successor, something which he took heed of and filed the case as a suicide. The next three Rhienland Intelligence Ministers we're killed within days of taking up their posts, and eventually, a terrified high ranking intelligence officer listed the deaths of his four predecessors as suicide also.
-------------------
OOC: Very long I think. It's a rarity for me to sit and type a story like this. What do you all think?
He had the file in front of him when the emergency broadcast reached him. One hundred and sixty two people dead; seventy three children and twelve Bretonian Police among them.
The Rhienland Intelligence Minister finally cleared his throat and spoke. "As you see, your attempts to hush up this massacre were poor at best. Our man transmitted this to us less than two hours ago. We've not told the Kusarian or Liberty agencies yet. If you want this kept quiet then you'll do as your told."
"I'll play along for now, what do you want?", was the reply. The Bretonian Intelligence Minister had been his position for the better part of thirteen years. He was known in the Intelligence circles as a formidable, calculated opponent. This was all bravado, he was terrified of his job, his colleges, but he knew how to handle most situations. He was the most successful Intel Chief the Queen had ever appointed.
His reply shocked the Rhineland Intel Minister, although his face never betrayed this fact. He never thought it would be this easy, the Brets must be falling to pieces, this was juicy intell and he knew it. Exclusive to him and he knew that it was only good for a few more hours before some loud mounted reporter had it all over the Siruis News Channels.
"Who was responsible for these attacks?", asked the Rhienland Minister.
"Attack-SSS? There's been more than one"
Sh*t, he'd already made a mess of this.
"What do you mean, attackSSS? There's been more than one?", the Bretonian Chief pressured.
"Yes. We've suffered from a similar incident some days ago, but our Military isn't as sloppy as yours. We don't let opposing agents video tape and then transmit top secret information." The Bretonian knew this already, he'd lost too many of his agents in Rhienland territory already.
"Well who do you done this?" The Bretonian Chief was determined to wrestle control of this conversation back into his hands.
"You answer first, I'm not in the mood to debate this, remember the tape"
"Fine, we suspect a Pirate that goes by the callsign 'Tortured_Soul'"
"The one referred to in this document?" ++ File Received, Click to Open ++
"I assume the Bounty Hunter gave you this? A little money goes a long way with them"
"I assure you, no money changed hands, now answer my question"
"Yes, it's the same man. Although his criminal record has much extended now."
"Indeed, let's see your last estimate put it at thirteen murders, hundreds of counts of people trafficing altough exclusively Bounty Hunters to pirate groups, robbery, fleeing from police, fleeing from the military...yes. Quiet a resume, we can agree. I want to know where he is?"
"Why's that?"
"He murdered at least four hundred as many civilians, three days ago. I want to throw him out the nearest airlock."
"He's still a Bretonian citizen, we have the extradition treaty, we -"
"We both know that the laws of our countries mean nothing to men like us. I want him dead, and I suspect you want him dead just as badly. It is your brother he murdered after all isn't it?"
A cold chill filtered through the room, as he realised his game was done. Marcus Felstrom had been murdered six months ago, but his newest concern was that his identity was known now. His face betrayed him for too long.
"Ahh, so it is true. It was just a rumour in the high ranks but I thought I'd test it out. Seems worth it now. I wouldn't worry, I've no interest in you now, and I suspect that you'll give up office in a few hours anyway, but I want that pilot, and I want him now"
The snake-like intake of breath cut through the air like a blade as the Rhienland Minister watched in horror as the barrel of a Rhienland firearm was gently placed against the side of the Bretonian's head. The colour drained from Domonic Felstrom's face as he felt the cooled carbon-steel barrel rest up against his temple. A short 'God forgive me', escaped his lips as the trigger was pulled and the plasma pistol discharged. No gore, the wound was cauterized instantly as the superheated air left by the plasma burned the flesh of the wound.
"If you want me, come and get me Minister." His voice was barely a whisper, but had the power and malice that could terrorise an army, it was far from soft, yet no harshness could be discerned.
"You only have a few minutes though, no doubt the tightness in your chest has become enough to concern you. Particularly after what you've just witnessed. That bag of mints your daughter bought you last week had a hidden surprise. Coated just thick enough that you wouldn't notice the difference, but it would take days to break down in your stomach. The anti-acids you take slowed the process down slightly but well worth the wait. I suppose that one or both of you are recording this so, for the attention of the next Intelligence chiefs of Bretonia and Rhienland. Do not attempt to chase me. Do not attempt to stop me. Do not attempt to buy me out. Do not attempt to screw me over. These are mistakes of your predecessors made and these are the mistakes they died for."
Desperate to stop the man, even if meant he had to let the Bret's bring him in, with his last few minutes, he called the Bretonian Military and told them that the man was there, that the tortured soul was there and that he'd killed the Intelligence Chief. The man on the phone laughed, "Aren't you a little old to be placing prank calls, sir?" He watched a tall, slim man dressed head to toe in obsidian black step out the elevator and head for the door. He checked the alarm board, everything was well. He ended the transmission and went back to scanning the entering people.
Two hours later the body of the Bretonian Intelligence Chief was found with a single Plasma wound to the head. All the alarms in his office, state of the art tamper proof alarms had been deactivated or hard-wired so that they wouldn't sound. The recording never revealed the face of the assassin but was played to the Bretonian successor, something which he took heed of and filed the case as a suicide. The next three Rhienland Intelligence Ministers we're killed within days of taking up their posts, and eventually, a terrified high ranking intelligence officer listed the deaths of his four predecessors as suicide also.
-------------------
OOC: Very long I think. It's a rarity for me to sit and type a story like this. What do you all think?