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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Nov 29, 2007 22:51:15 GMT -5
(OOC: This is just to get people thinking for now. I will be gone for the weekend, and will not be able to post, so once I get back, and once I am free from Rome (see Rebellion), then you guys will be able to join in. ) Spain was engaged in a Rebellion with The Romans, and were seeing success in Catalonia, where the Romans set up a defensive stand that would be remembered forever as "The Battle of Pamplona" to the Romans, and was currently being named "The Battle of Catalonia" by the Spanish. The Romans were slowly dwindling in number, and Spain had Independence on the horizon. The sun was setting in Spain for the Romans it seemed, but a new age was yet to come. Two sides had formed in Spain, one lead by Francisco Franco, a Nationalist General of Spain, and the other side was known as the Republican Party, led by Manuel Azana. Franco was about to claim Independence for Spain, and claim the throne to the nation, however Spain had a noose around its neck that no one knew of. The Republican Party had yet to reveal itself, and the majority of the standing military of Franco was lost at "The Battle of Catalonia". Azana was planning on challenging Franco for the throne, once Spain had its Independence. Spain was about to be thrown into another civil war, that Spain and its people may not be able to live through. The Republican Party was slowly organizing themselves, and gaining more and more supporters everyday. Franco however, had the rest of the people too scared to say otherwise, and so they remained his followers. Franco had lost 90% of his military force, one that would be needed should he live to be the "king" of Spain. Azana had an attack force that could be used to fight for him, Franco did not, but Franco had some allies at the least. The people knew that something bad was about to occur, and some even went as far as to stock up on food, and by boards and such to block the windows and doors should the fighting take to the streets of their neighborhood. Franco, being couped up in his affairs in his office, was unaware of these events, and all of his advisor's were too afraid of their lives to bring bad news to the man. The two sides were formed. The two men were ready for the throne. There could only be one that would live to tell the tale, and write the history of Spain.
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Dec 3, 2007 20:38:26 GMT -5
Upon hearing of the defeat of the Romans, and the new independance of Spain, Azana Launched into action. He immedately sent letters to all nations that did not assist Franco in the past, asking for help in his efforts. He had enough people that were armed that they began a roit/revolt in the city of Barcelona. The streets were littered with people Screaming, asking for help from anyone. Little childrenstand alone crying next to their fallen parents, as others run around them seeking for cover from the gunfire. The polce were shooting at anyone that seemed to be a threat. This revolt quickly tuned into what appeared on the outside as a massacre. Franco would easily look like a fiend should reports of this incident reach the international scene, although that ws inevitable at this point.
Franco was in a rage in his new office in Northen Spain. He ordered that the remaining soldiers report to Barcelona immediately to end this revolt. He did not know that the police that were there were already shooting, because all contact with the city had been lost, as he had lost the city to the rebellious people of Azana. He quickly began a search to find his allies for military assistance, as well as new people o re-organize his military....
(OOC: Guys, Feel free to write a letter or send in troops for whichever side you wish to defend. I do not know who will prevail-that will be decided upon by who RP's better. I will either become a democracy or a Nationalist State, both of which conflict and fall into the opposite alliances within Hyrule. Please join in on this, and look at a map of Spain as a referance point for where things are happening and where you will join in. PM me for any questions/comments)
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Post by Canton Rouge on Dec 3, 2007 20:50:35 GMT -5
OOC: Metz, hope you won't mind my nation just having one guy.
IC: Claude DeVoort was pleased with the end result of Spain acheiving independence. But upon returning to Barcelona, he first noticed the shock and pandemonium amongst the civilians. He knew that now, the new war was between Nationalist and the Republic parties. 'But who to support?' he thought, wondering which side would offer a bigger reward to being in power. That, or he would join the first army he saw an officer from.
As he made his way into town, he came upon a Nationalist Army officer, who was directing civilians aside and barking up orders to nearby soldiers. Claude came up to him, and said in a calm, but firm voice, "The name's Claude DeVoort, former Canton Rouge soldier. Now I'm an inhabitant of Espana. Tell me, do you need any support from a man such as myself?" Claude had his G3A3 assault rifle slung over his shoulder, definitely resembling a freedom fighter, hoping to refurnish his skills now as a fighter...
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Post by Ignatius on Dec 3, 2007 21:28:11 GMT -5
Somewhere in EspanaRepublican Recruiting OfficeWalking confidently through the halls of the Republican-owned recruiting center, CIA operative Jack O'Reiner moved swiftly through the masses of uneasy-looking men, flanked by two high-ranking Republican political officers and possessing a very large American-made M1911A2 pistol strapped to his belt. Large, strong, and adorned with a set of graying whiskers, Jack O'Reiner possessed the dubious distinction of being one of the older CIA operatives in the entire agency, gifted with years of experience in the fields of espionage, diplomacy, and assassination. With the Southern States of America quickly rising in power in the North American continent, President Jefferson S. Davis of the S.S.A. was intent on flexing the political and military muscle of the Confederate nation as quickly as possible, sending the venerable old operative into action in the hellish region of "Spain" to broker out a deal between the fledging Spanish Republicans and the powerhouse American Nation. "Hola, Senor..." greeted O'Reiner in a thick Tennessee accent as he watched the Republican leader approach, "I will spare you the pain of listening to my very poor Spanish, Senor Ruben.. And get to the point of this meeting as quickly as possible." Frowning contemplatively at the sight of this strange foreigner, the Spaniard politely motioned for the American to enter a comfortably-furnished room located several feet away from the main hallway, nodding at the Southern Man's request with an open mind. "Si... Si..." muttered 'Ruben', staring at the CIA operative's plainly visible M1911 pistol, "Please, make yourself at home my friend.." Taking the time to glance around the room before plopping his ancient buttocks on an adjacent leather seat, O'Reiner slowly reached into the jacket pocket of his well-tailored suit for a cigarette, flicking open the cover of his CIA-issue 'zippo' lighter to light the object. Smiling thoughtfully as he inhaled the sweet, comforting smoke through his windpipe, the American slowly puffed a stream of white smoke through his sharply-pointed nose, blowing the offending substance into a potted tree nearby. "The Nationalists are incompetant..." spoke the American matter-of-factly, grinning at his Spanish counterpart, "and this Franco is both a butcher and a buffoon. The Pyhrric victory this so-called 'General' won over a numerically inferior Roman force at the Battle of Pamplona hardly impresses anyone, my good amigo, seeing as the little shit lost nearly 90% of his forces in the attempt at driving the Romans from Spain. Poor military tactics, ineffective leadership with the civilian people, and the collapse of all order in Spain hardly endear the Southern States of America to this man.." "You, on the other hand," continued O'Reiner, flashing a smile at the Spaniard, "the Republicans.. Do not depend on 'scaring' the people of Spain into half-hearted loyalty, and have the capability to effectively govern Spain in the future.. While you may not, at the moment, possess all the tools needed to immediately rid Espana of this fool Franco, you at least have the potential to raise a powerful contesting faction against these Nationalist swine, and can definitely overcome... With 'American' help." "Franco's forces lie in complete disarray.. Mi Amigo.." spoke the American, yanking a sealed envelope from his jacket pocket, "and the 'General' has alienated a great deal of the Spanish people with his wanton, paranoid massacres in Barcelona and other cities. Following our principals for 'freedom, liberty, and sovereignty' to all freedmen, the S.S.A. is more than willing to aid the Republican cause with both military advisors and direct intervention. As we speak, two carrier fleets of the Southern Navy are already making their way across the Atlantic to bolster the military arm of the Republican party, accompanied with a sizable Marine Expeditionary Force numbering in 35,000. As we mobilize our forces back in the States, more men are expected to flood into Espana in the weeks to come with crateloads of weapons, supplies, and armored vehicles to help your war against the Nationalists." Pausing to catch his breath, the American slowly breathed in another lungful of tobacco smoke while eying the Spaniard, carefully assessing the full measure of the man with his pair of steel-grey eyes. "America backs your party whole heartedly, mi amigo... There will be little Franco can do against a modern, well-trained, greatly-motivated, and excellently-supplied fighting force.. Our military muscle has been flexed, and will help the Republican cause against this incompetant.."
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Dec 4, 2007 17:22:18 GMT -5
Barcelona SpainSenior Ruben and O'Riener were in a room in the middle of a newly created recruitment office of the Republican Party. O'Riener had just stated that the S.S.A. was there to assist them. Senior Ruben was wearing an old Military Uniform that must have been his fathers, or grandfathers, but it was well decorated and cleaned. It just looked quite old and rugged. Outside of the room, men could be heard saying, "18-20 Year old-Come here to register to a Legion. 21-25 Come here to register..." and so on and so fourth. Many people were rushing around now that the Republicans had secured control over Barcelona, but news was spreading like a wild fire that Franco's men were on the way. Ruben was amazed with the news that the S.S.A. was willing to help them in their cause, and was quick to accept.. "Well Senior O'Riener, I would be honored to have your assistance. I only ask that you keep this quit. Franco is a bull-headed imbecile, and with him thinking its just us, perhaps another half-asses attack will come our way, and then together we can defeat him and go on a counter attack. Also, with him thinking that we are alone in our fight, he will not seek allies. We need to figure out where these men will land too..." Senior Ruben layed down a map of Spain, and began to write up some military tactics. He knew that with Barcelona being within the territory of Catalonia where the Battle of Pompey Occurred, he needed the allied forces there as soon as possible. Luckily, Barcelona was close to the sea... "There is the map, I suggest you try to arrive as soon as possible, as you can see, Franco could be here any minute." Stated Ruben. O'Riener replied after a short ponder, "Well, I can see that now. At least we can come right into Barcelona! That shall be our main point of attack obviously." "Well yes. We need to think about this, but right now, I have to go to the bathroom. When I get back try to have a plan fired out so we can discuss this." With that he closed the door behind him and left to go to the restroom giving the American time to think. He hoped that Franco could be too incompetent to have forces arrive quickly, but he never knew what the man was up to. Meanwhile, a small but undetected Nationalist squadron of men lay on the outside of Barcelona. They were the last of the nationalist men, and had control of a small suburb of the city. They were regathering their men that had retreated and were planning on a counter-attack, so as to not have to report a loss to their superiors. They had lost all of their ability to send a signal to others, and were completely on their own. A random man came up to them the name of Claude DeVoort. He said Ho would give them some assistance, and so they hastily put him in a place within the squad. They were still gathering up a few more soldiers, but were ready to begin planning what to do next.. (OOC: Canton, thats fine-I am giving you RP control of the squad, so do what you like. ========================================= Eastern Military base OOC: (The one closest to Barcelona on the previous map. There is also the Western Military base, just for future clarification) Francisco Franco had already organized his a legion of men at his military base. They were just ordinary people equipped with weapons that had undergone a very brief military training, but that was enough to stop the revolt he thought. He ordered them to march to Barcelona and stop what was going on there. So far, he had no idea what was coming....perhaps someone else had the capabilities of detecting the large fleet of Americans sailing through the Pacific. No one had warned him of what was coming, and perhaps no one would...
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Post by Canton Rouge on Dec 4, 2007 19:46:53 GMT -5
Barcelona suburb
As the one with the most experience, Claude DeVoort was given command of a squad of five other Nationalist volunteers. At least they were armed and had some knowledge of tactics. Claude thought about what to do, considering the Republicans had control of most of the city. After thinking it through, he turned to address his squad.
"This won't be easy," he began. "The Republicans have most of Barcelona under their control. Therefore, we'll be resorting to hit and run tactics until we get reinforcements. Pablo, you, Ramon, and Miguel will advance through the buildings on the right side of the street. Stay low and keep quiet until we can ambush them. I'll lead Maria and Juan up the buildings on the left side."
"Yes sir!" his squad said in unison, and with that, his squad proceeded to start their advance through the ruins. But before Claude started, he turned to a body laying on the ground near him. He decided to check the body out, and after fishing around his pockets, he found himself not only some money, but some identification papers that would identify him as a Spaniard. Pleased with his findings, he set out, ready to wreak havoc on the Republicans...
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Post by Ignatius on Dec 4, 2007 20:51:30 GMT -5
2nd Fleet 12 Miles off Catalonia
Grinning at the sight of land from the top deck of the S.S. Duvall, a recently-constructed supercarrier of the Southern Naval Forces, Admiral James T. Falconer happily clapped his hands at the progress the massive American fleet had made on their epic three-day journey through the Atlantic Ocean, being very proud of the fact that the massive naval group of twenty-five total ships managed to pass the tight bottleneck separating Africa from the Iberian Peninsula. From the shiny command bridge of the Duvall, Admiral Falconer could easily see the ships of the massive American fleet quickly switch into battle positions, with flurries of activity taking place on the flight decks of the five adjacent aircraft carriers sailing alongside Falconer's personal flagship.
"Wonder country, is it not?" quipped the Admiral, carefully dusting off a speck of dust from his nearly-immaculate white uniform, "I wonder how our Republican 'hombres' are doing fighting over that patch of earth called Barcelona?"
"Well sir..." replied an aide to the left of the Admiral, carrying a small intelligence note in his gloved hands, "The Nationalists seem to be gathering their primarily militia forces on the outskirts of the city, prepping for an assault on the Republican sector. Now, the CIA informs us that the overwhelming majority of Franco's forces are raw, inexperienced militamen with very little formal training.. Hardly a match for battle-hardened American Marines in a fair fight."
Pausing in mid-sentence to watch an American reconnaisance aircraft take off from the flight deck of the S.S. Leonidas, an aircraft carrier directly to the right of the Duvall, the aide turned his attention back to the small intelligence report in his hand, clearing his breath before he continued on.
"Republican forces, on the other hand," added the Naval Officer, looking at the Admiral, "are more or less equal in strength and quality to Franco's legion, being an informal mess of volunteers with scanty training. With our massive firepower, the American Peacekeeping presence here in Spain should be able to defend the city of Barcelona from Franco's ill-trained mob of devotees, and send a message to any military-wannabe in Espana of the capabilities of American military force."
Taking this information slowly into his head, the Admiral carefully thought over all the possible plans of action before turning to his most trusted Lieutenant to give his orders on what exactly the 2nd Fleet would do. Grinning leisurely at the map of Barcelona spread out on his wooden desk, the Admiral slowly gestured at a small patch of land at the outskirts of the massive city, knowing full well the very little significance this apparently 'useless' bit of territory posed to General Franco.
"Gentlemen," replied the Admiral, flashing a smile at his fellow officers, "all know that he who controls the god of firepower in a conventional battle controls the playing field.. We clearly dominate this sector without a second thought, with the Second Fleet comprising of eight aircraft carriers, five cruisers, seven destroyers, and five troop carriers... With the American 3rd Fleet scheduled to rendevouz with us in approximately three days, our numbers will be further bolstered by an addition flow of Naval and Marine units to this region.."
"Inform the commander of our current Marine force to prepare for direct transport onto this small port area in five hours, gentlemen.. We will move our Marine personnel immediately into Barcelona as soon as possible with armored vehicles to bolster the Republican forces, and strike an immediately counterattack against Franco's legion when he dares to enter this city."
"I want air sorties flown against the Nationalists on every hour, gentlemen.." added Falconer, motioning to the flight deck of the Duvall with his left hand, "Without any air power, Franco cannot hope to take control of the battlefield by his 'brutish' means. Launch immediate strikes against Franco's forces as soon as possible with our F/A-18 Hornets, and obliterate every single exposed enemy position you can spot."
"God is with us, gentlemen.." added Falconer, glancing up to the heavens, "He's always with the strongest forces..." ----------------------- Somewhere in Spain
Staring down from the cockpit of his A-10 (II) ground attack aircraft, Naval Pilot Henry Irons of the Southern Navy carefully steered his aircraft towards the marked bombing site along with a fellow squadron of American attack aircraft, silently muttering "Dixie" under the respirator of his flight helmet.
"Tango Five, Tango Five," hailed a voice from Irons's headset, quickly distinguishing itself to be the commanding airman of Irons's squadron, "this is 'Big Momma'... Enemy ground targets are swiftly coming into sight.. Estimated time till payload drop is... Three minutes..."
Glancing down at the beautiful Spanish landscape, Irons could easily make out the obvious temporary billets constructed by Franco's unexperienced forces, and noted of the splendid little target which awaited the squadron's attack run on the ground. An attack pilot's dream, the Nationalist billets, vehicles, and supply stockpile sat in a neat little box formation on the ground below, perfectly positioned in a defensive formation suited to large-scale ground battles, but literally screaming to be bombed from a superior aerial force.
Franco had apparently not been expecting any form of aerial combat from his Republican counterparts, and certainly did not expect any sort of direct intervention by the Southern States of America, opting not to pack any sort of anti-air countermeasures in his attempt to recapture the city of Barcelona.
"Roger that, Big Momma..." replied Irons on the radio set, flicking the arming switch on his cockpit controls, "Commencing ground'n'pound in five... four... three... two... one..."
Gunning the engine of the heavily armored A-10 Warthog, the American pilot sent his aircraft screeching towards the ground, wildly blazing away a path of utter destruction and devastation with the A-10's powerful GAU-8 30mm cannon. Both high-explosive and armor-piercing shells ripped through the utterly suprised masses of Nationalist militamen, blowing holes in billets, vehicle convoys, and supply stockpiles with relative ease. Almost on cue, the rest of the Warthogs in Irons's squadron opened up right after the young pilot's initial assault, sending a hail of rockets, anti-personnel bomblets, and 30mm cannon shells onto the confused masses of Nationalist volunteers.
"Yee-haw!" cried Irons on his radio set, blazing away at the 'turkeys' positioned in the temporarily Nationalist base on the outskirts of Barcelona, "I bet old 'Franco'll wake up to a surprise today..."
After a good thirty minutes of unchecked carnage, the lone squadron of A-10's roared away from the location, leaving a massive trail of smouldering buildings, vehicles, and bodies in their wake. A massive blow had been struck against the Nationalist side over the course of thirty minutes, announcing the American intent to 'intervene' in the Iberian Peninsula..
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Dec 5, 2007 13:59:15 GMT -5
Eastern Military Base"Fransisco Franco!! Franco!! Is he dead!?!? Franco!!" a man shouted as Franco awoke from a Deep sleep. Bombs were being dropped, and they needed to transport Franco out of the danger zone. Franco awoke and was amazed at what was happening around him. As he ran outside, a bomb fell, blowing up many many men right by him, but he was unharmed as he fell to the ground and was covered by three other men. They hurried him to a jeep, that as camouflaged and would hopefully not be seen. As they were running, they could here the whistling of the explosives as they fell to the ground, killing everything in their path. Men were screaming, one man ran around looking for his arm, and asked them if they knew where it. The man was in shock. Another man could be seen, holding in is entrails with one hand, and throwing up one hand towards the heavens asking for god to have mercy and kill him already. It was a scene that no man wanted to see. Men all around him were scared to death, running around trying to do anything to get away from the carnage that had so abruptly arrived. Finally,the jeep was insight and the men ran up to it and jumped in right as another whistle ended, and more screams could be heard. All around them the vibrations of the earth could be felt as well. Franco and his three men started the engine, a low roar could be heard amongst the rest of the commotion. "Franco Sir! These are the planes of the S.S.A. Sir! I thought we were on good terms with 'em?" "Well Fuck that! Their bombing the shit out of us! Get the hell outta here or we'll all die" Franco screamed in a panic. "Yes sir!" The man replied as he Jeep ramped Over a fallen, splintered tree sprawled across the road. The car was off to safety, but now his entire position of leadership and control of the country was in danger. He had no way of communicating to others about what had happened, as it was a complete surprise. He could only hope that his previous friends would feel generous once again, and detect the acton on a radar or something. After getting about 30 Miles away from what had happed, they came to a small cave of a mountain, which used to be a military base, but was closed down after a fall in occurred. They walked up to the door, still shacking and shocked from what had happened, and hoped they could get in. It was their only hope of communicating to the outside nations of Hyrule. There was nothing that promised the equipment would still be there however. ========================================= BarcelonaManuel Azana could be heard all throughout the city via radio and television, informing the people of the rebellion. It was a repeated message, almost propaganda, but it was comforting to the people non-the-less. They were told that Barcelona was free, and that all men and children of age were to report to sign up for the fight immediately. Soldiers were already posted close to the outskirts of town, in groups of 5-10 people. They consisted of a sniper, a grenadier, a rocket launcher, and the rest were equipped with pistols and rifles, depending on the size of the group. Only about 3men in each group had actual military training, the rest were just he citizens that had signed up. Only a few had actual military uniforms. The city would rely on these groups to keep them secure until the S.S.A. would arrive, and then they could be on the attack... Image of a Military outpost, towards the edges of the city.[/size]
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Post by Canton Rouge on Dec 5, 2007 16:48:35 GMT -5
Claude and his squad were busy making their way into town. Granted, it was difficult because of all of the rubble, but at least they were able to make progress. Along the way, they encountered little resistance, and those Republicans that tried to fight him, well, his squad just fired back, killing a few, and routing others.
When his squad reached one of the major intersections that linked a major residential suburb with the start of the city proper, Claude swore he heard chants of, "Viva Franco! Viva the Nationalists!" To his surprise, it was not Franco's legion, but instead, a hodgepodge of civilians, and former soldiers who had gathered there, waiting for a leader to arrive.
"We saw some of those Republican cowards run!" some of them cried out. "Some of the Republicans massacred my children!" others shouted.
"Well, if you support us, grab a weapon and follow me," Claude replied. Now, the men under his authority increased from 5 to around 30. He now realized the importance of keeping order. So he then called out, "Pablo, Juan, Miguel, Ramon, and Maria. Lead five volunteers each. Spread out, but stay close, and look for any signs of Republicans, or anyone wanting to join the cause."
"Yes sir!" his original squad replied in unison. With that, he now had an effective chain of squads, ready to do his business. With that, everyone started to proceed into the city, ready for any action that would come their way...
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Post by Ignatius on Dec 5, 2007 21:25:38 GMT -5
OOC- I think Metz was talking about Republican milita there, CR... Seeing as the Nationalists, not Republicans (according to Metz's earlier post) murdered thousands of civilians in Barcelona before Republican forces overthrew Franco's military force there.
Barcelona
Taking up an observation post in the bell tower of a center-based Chapel in Barcelona, O'Reilly carefully glanced over the situation with a calm eye, noting the relatively weak position the Nationalists had in Barcelona. Due to the massive "wall of fire" laid out by the carrier-based aircraft of the S.S.A. preventing any large scale military attack into the city, the tiny Nationalist force in Barcelona had largely been forced to rely on minor guerrilla actions within the suburbs of the city, only being able to overwhelm a few isolated squads of Republican volunteers patrolling the external parts of Barcelona. To further add onto the excellent position the S.S.A. held on the battlefield, news from Admiral Falconer of an American Marine force unloading in Barcelona's ports greatly boosted the morale of the embattled Republicans fighting minor skirmishes in Barcelona, with the exceptionally well-supported 21st Marine Regiment moving desperately needed men and armored vehicles into the city.
Having been observing from his vantage point for a good four hours, the CIA operative had been carefully scanning the surrounding territory for any 'Nationalist' infiltrators with his specially-issued Accuracy International sniper rifle in .338 magnum, prepared to drop any unlucky sucker with a shot from the powerful weapon at a moment's notice. Well camouflaged in the urban setting within a carefully constructed 'blind' masking his position, the CIA agent had watched minor skirmishes between isolated Nationalist and Republican units with some interest over the course of three hours, occasionally dropping men with accurate head shots from his observation post.
"Mmmm.." muttered the CIA operative, noticing the movement of a squad of 'Nationalist' (by the looks of their colored armbands) militiamen moving through the street, "I suppose these stupid bastards don't know when they've lost..."
Spotting the female Nationalist officer from a distance of approximately seven hundred yards, the CIA agent slowly worked the action of the AI rifle to chamber a round of .338 'soft points' into gun, carefully bringing the fine reticule of the weapon to bear on the chest of the Nationalist before slowly pressing down on the hair-set target trigger of the weapon to send a bullet out of the weapon.
*bang*
Buckling back against the fierce recoil of the weapon, O'Reilly grinned in satisfaction as a visible hole was ripped into the chest of the female Nationalist (undoubtedly caused by the soft-pointed 'dum-dum' round), being slightly proud of the fact that he had yet again killed off another enemy of America. Deciding that he had well enough outstayed his welcome in his observation post, the CIA agent swiftly shouldered his rifle on his broad shoulders, quietly moving away from the hiding spot to find another place his lethal talents could be put to use.
------------------------------------- Barcelona Port 21st Marine Regiment
Smiling at the welcome sight of the camouflaged masses of heavily armed American Marines walking down the loading ramps of their 'Bowie' class troop carriers, 'Senor Ruben' watched in wonder at the unwavering waves of S.S. Marines swiftly moving past the docks of the Barcelona Port in full-battle gear, accompanied by columns of heavily armored urban fighting vehicles rolling through the relatively unscathed roads of the area. Decked in an intimidating urban-grey camouflage scheme, each burly American Marine wore a thick set of body armor over their battle dress uniforms with a ballistic Kevlar helmet topping off their 'combat look'. Armed with a mix of reflex sighted M-16A4 assault rifles, M-14 marksman battle rifles, and M4 carbines, each Marine carried a formidable set of high-explosive grenades and an AT-4 anti-tank weapon on his MOLE harness, prepared to deliver a heavy dose of firepower on the relatively inexperienced Nationalist enemy at the drop of a hat.
"Senor Ruben?" inquired one Marine colonel, distinguished from the rest of his brethren by the silver colonel 'oak leaves' attached to the cowboy hat on his head, "I am Colonel Mark Walburg of 21st Marine Regiment.. and wish to inform you that your American reinforcements of thirty-five thousand 'professional' American Marines have arrived on the scene."
Before the American could continue on with his greeting to the high-ranking Republican officer, Walburg was forced to pause in mid-speech as a helicopter squadron of twelve heavily armed Apache gunships roared over their heads, rapidly moving towards the clearly visible columns of smoke rising in the city's horizon.
"We are heavily supported by our massive fleet just several miles away from the Spanish coast, Amigo.." spoke the Marine, grinning at the astonished Spaniard, "and the 21st has arrived with a full complement of armor, artillery, and air support to beat back the Nationalists attempting to retake Barcelona. Hell, even those helicopters you've just seen are scheduled to make a sweep over Barcelona to wipe out any isolated Nationalist units vainly attempting to 'overthrow' the Republican hold in this city... Knowing full well the combat capabilities of our Apaches, I'd hate to be the unlucky bastard trying to bring it down..."
Noticing that the Spaniard was inadvertently holding up the movement of armored vehicles flowing from the transport ships, Colonel Walburg gently led the Spaniard to the side of the road, waving on the commander of the leading M2A2 Bradley IFV with a sharp salute. While his face was partially hidden by the heavy tanker helmet the commander wore on his head, the mounted officer waved friendly in reply to the pair of men, swiveling the barrel of his .50 caliber machine gun towards the air in a 'cavalryman's salute.
"I can assure you that elements of the 21st are swiftly being mobilized to aid your Republican forces here in Barcelona, Senor Ruben..." added the Marine, bowing to the Spanish officer, "Heavy armored support will undoubtedly be of much help to the unsupported Republican militias fighting in the outskirts of town, and continuous aerial bombardment will prevent 'Senor' Franco from effectively coordinating any massive attack on Republican positions on the edge of Barcelona's city limits."
"We control both the skies and the gods of firepower, Senor.." boasted the American, looking up at the swarms of naval aircraft roaring towards their destinations, "Barcelona will be held at all costs.."
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Dec 5, 2007 22:53:26 GMT -5
Barcelona SpainSenor Ruben, talked loudly trying to overcome the lull of the tanks rolling past him in the streets. His heart was beating rapidly in excitement, seeing victory roll right past his eyes. 35,000 thousand men strong...that should be enough to hold us together against anyone! he thought to himself, before leading O'Rielly inside. "O'Riener, I'm taking you inside with me. I need you to do something for and with me." He walked inside, opened a door, and began to descend down a flight of stairs. He went into another room, full of maps and closed the door behind them. "O'Riener, This is our room where we do everything. You have some work to do...here is where our positions are, here is where Franco is, and here are areas where we have no idea who/what is there. You have control of the troops, and so I give you control from here on out, as long as Manuel Azana agrees." Manuel Azana came in the door right as his name was mentioned. He was wearing a fully decorated military uniform, with his jet black hair slicked back, and sunglasses on. He took off the glasses and set them down on a table, and then introduced himself to O'Rielly. "O'Riener, I am trusting that you can help me fulfill my dreams...Therefore, you are going to be a right hand man of mine as long as you agree to it. I need someone like you that has control of the S.S.A. Troops and a man that I can trust with tactical choices. I also need someone to organize a training camp for my people to learn your military ways, if that is something the SSA will do. Are you the man I am looking for?" ========================================= (OOC: Yea canton, Ignatious is correct, but go ahead and go with what you have. It will now be your 30 man group against whatever you come across. I guess hope its not the marines lol You could always get a disguise or some other creative thing to help you, but this part of this post is for you Edges of the City LimitsA group of 10 Spanish men were assembled in an old manikin warehouse. They were looking through the broken windows, concealing themselves with the manikins so that their lives would be safe. They could see movement of soldiers a couple streets down, but they couldn't tell friend or foe. There were about 30 of them. The Sniper was asleep, and the day was coming to an end, so they had no way of figuring it out, without revealing the snipers position. There were 5 riflemen, the sniper, and the rest were equipped with pistols and grenades. Then they had a rocket launcher sitting with them, but it only had about three shots maximum. They just had to wait and see if the men would come their way...
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Post by Canton Rouge on Dec 6, 2007 16:14:50 GMT -5
OOC: My bad. I didn't realize that. I assumed that both sides would be committing wanton acts of destruction. But back on track. I'm using Spanish for this post, but I'll subtitle it, because I may mess up some things. Oh, and there will be some surprises for my character, which I won't spoil.
IC: As Claude and his men advanced down the street heading into Barcelona, Claude suddenly stopped. He eyed the buildings suspiciously like a hawk. He knew something was up because right near his position, there was a warehouse that stored mannequins. Granted, the Republicans were smart enough not to fight inside the houses, but Claude sensed they would use the windows of the warehouse as a place to ambush his company.
Claude turned to Ramon and Juan, then whispered, "Get everyone into an ambush position. There may be trouble coming from that warehouse. I'll check and see if anyone is inside it, and if so, who they affiliate themselves with. In the event everything goes wrong, continue on."
The two of them whispered back, "Si, amigo (Yes friend)," and the two men ordered everyone into the shadows of the buildings and behind low lying walls. Meanwhile, Claude slowly made his way to the front entrance of the warehouse, being careful to stay by the walls to stay covered. As soon as he made his way to the entrance, he put a clip into his weapon, readied himself, and prepared for whatever stood inside.
"Hola! Que estan ustedes, Republicanos o Nacionales? (Hello! What are you people, Republicans or Nationalists)" he called out. Of course, there was the possibility no one was inside the warehouse, but he didn't want to run that risk. "Quien ustedes? Donde estan ustedes? (Who are you? Where are you?) Necesito informacion ahora o ustedes tienen una problema grande. (I need information now or you all will be in a big predicament.)"
Claude ended his shouts, and awaited any response from inside. If anyone was in there, or would respond, that is...
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Dec 6, 2007 18:35:35 GMT -5
(OOC: Canton, if you like this "arena" for lack of a better word, I suggest we drag this out. I am excited to RP this...but I guess its up to you how long this goes.)
Old Warehouse, Barcelona Spain
The group of men watched the group of people approach them. They could tell that they sensed something, since they changed formation, and then proceeded to shout into the building. The defenders, trying to avoid being detected, had already randomly placed fake guns and military uniforms on random manikins, to give them an even more real life appearance. The men signaled to each other using sign language. They knew the men were nationalists, and sided with Franco, because the sniper had awoken and got a close look, they didn't have the yellow armband around them like the rest of the Azana followers did. They decided to to a quick attack, instead of say something or try to trick the people.
The sniper aimed his shot, seeing the tip of one man head rising just above a sheet of glass at the entrance to the building. He waited as the man shifted below, his head disappearing for a split second. Then he pulled the trigger, shattering the glass, but nailing the man right in the temple. His position was now in danger, but at least he took someone with him at the worst. The other nationalist men quickly assumed the general direction of the shot, and took cover, several of them running away. The Republican defenders lost track of some of them, who ran into the building and disguised themselves as manikins as well. This fight would be one of intellect and guile, as it was hard to tell who was real, and who was not.
The Republican defenders were positioned in the upper floors, but heard people coming up the stairs, so they had no idea where the enemy was at. The echo of foot steps lingered in the air. Suddenly, a manikin fell over as a Republican tried to maneuver. A quick shot was fired, and the republican lay slain at his spot, blood trickling over the edge of the balcony he was on.
The two groups were now fully engaged in combat, the Republicans now had 9 men, breathing quietly and still, awaiting the Nationalists arrival in their scopes. The nationalists, numbering much more than the defenders, were attempting to sneak in, a much harder task as they had to move. It was a game of cat and mouse and Wheres Waldo, combined into one deadly combination. Both groups had great odds of winning, if they were to play the game intelligently.
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Post by Canton Rouge on Dec 6, 2007 21:46:03 GMT -5
Claude and his team of 29 were now locked into a firefight. Although the Republicans had the advantage of being inside shelter, they had chosen an old, dilapidated warehouse to make their stand. And the Nationalists had the men, but were in bad positions to fight. Claude knew he had one way to ensure victory. He had to flank them.
"I need some men to follow me!" Claude shouted. At that instant, around 10 riflemen followed him as he surpressed the windows, and his squad quickly crossed the street. From there, they made their way around the warehouse to a side entrance, which was less conspicuous than the main entrance.
"Ok, fire into the warehouse from here," Claude ordered, showing signs of determination in his voice. "I'm going to move out to the rear loading area and ambush any who try and escape."
With shouts of confirmation, Claude dashed through the path to the back of the warehouse. As far as he was concerned, the Republicans had now trapped themselves inside a place with no escape. Laughing, he took position in the bed of an abandoned truck, out of sight of anyone. He could still hear the sounds of the gunfight, but now, he waited for the offensive to come....
Meanwhile, in Canton Rouge....
With news of Nationalist failure in Barcelona, an overwhelming support for the Republicans was running through the streets. Even the parliament members favoured sending soldiers to Barcelona to end the assualt once and for all. After passing the necessary mandate, and reviewing it with Grand Moff Matthews, the order came to deploy troops from the now calm Middle East to Barcelona to end the situation once and for all. To Manuel Azana, parliament wrote:
To Manuel Azana of the Republicans.
We, the people of Canton Rouge, henceforth decide to aid you in your fight against Franco. We are sending in battle-hardened soldiers, fresh from touring the Middle East. We hope that they can aid you. If there is anything else needed, just ask.
Canton Rouge Parliament, Federalist Reich State of Canton Rouge
Claude DeVoort did not realize it, but now, his mother country had now decided to cast their lot with the Republicans. He was now caught in a new struggle, one in which he would now need to find a way out of....
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Post by Ignatius on Dec 6, 2007 22:16:40 GMT -5
OOC- O'Reilly and O'Reiner are two different people, Metzie... Just so you know. BarcelonaAzana's BaseDespite being taken aback by General Azana's bold proposition of a high-ranking position as major adviser to the Republican cause, O'Reiner managed to more or less keep his blank composure in front of the Spanish leader, hiding the bubbling emotions springing up within his ambitious soul behind a pair of tinted-Grey sunglasses. "I am truly honored to have been asked this question by you, General," replied the American, curtly nodding his head in respect to the Republican leader, "and will gladly accept your offer of being your top 'adviser' for the duration of the conflict. The CIA undoubtedly be more than willing to formally train the raw military arm of the Republican army, and can easily set up training bases in the Balearic Islands and Catalonia once Barcelona is secured. However, with me being a only an intelligence operative based in the Iberian Peninsula, the responsibility of commanding American Peacekeepers lies in the high-ranking commissioned officers of the S.S.A. itself, with me simply providing important military intelligence to both the American Government and Military Command." Pausing to quickly think over the mental list of important names in his graying head, the American struggled for a few seconds to remember the name of the commander of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) to Iberia, O'Reiner humorously slapped his knee before looking back up to the General to speak. "It's General Thomas Jonathan Jackson that is the official charge of the soon-to-be massive American Expeditionary Force, General," quipped O'Reiner, whipping out a profile of the General from his briefcase, "not me... However, rest assured that I will be taking up a more-than-active role here in Spain in the upcoming months, one which is equally important as Jackson's..." --------------------------------- Somewhere in BarcelonaMoving unopposed through the rubble-filled streets of Barcelona, a small armored group of ten M2 Bradley's accompanied with two platoons of grizzled American Marines (in support) cautiously rolled through the Spanish war zone, pausing every few blocks to blast away furiously at the occasional lone Nationalist foolishly attempting to 'pick off' the formidable force with small-arms fire. Literally blowing isolated Nationalist soldiers out of their cover with short bursts of 25mm cannon fire, the armored squadron steadily 'swept' the streets of the minor nuisances attempting to do battle with the professional American Marines, easily obliterating squad after squad of inexperienced men with lethal efficiency. "Christ in heaven..." muttered an American Marine in disgust, stepping over the corpse of a fallen Nationalist militiaman dropped only minutes before by a well-placed 5.56mm round to the head, "These bastards are pathetic... They can't even get any sizable number of men into Barcelona without getting the majority of their shitty asses blown to pieces with our air cover, yet still think they'd be able to take over the city with small squads of poorly-trained men..." Swinging his M-16A4 over his head as he tentatively waded through a small puddle of Spanish intestines littering the road, the American Marine slowly 'humped' his sizable combat load several yards away from a nearby M2 Bradley, keeping a steady watch over the environment for enemy marksmen. "Hey, y'all..." shouted the lead Bradley commander to the foot-borne 'grunts' supporting the armored squadron, signaling for the unit to come to a halt, "We've got some scattered reports of some small-scale gunfights raging just several blocks east of our current location.. Republican transmissions.. Apparently a detachment of Republican militia is engaging a few scattered Nationalists forces in that sector of town, and is pinned down at a string of shops less than quarter of a mile from where we stand..." Snorting his nose loudly, the armored officer quickly spat out a large blob of mucus-tainted spittle from his mouth, wincing at the foul taste lingering in the back of his throat immediately after making this obscene gesture. "We'll be moving towards there to 'check' the situation out, gents..." continued the Officer, reaching down into the turrent for the radio of his armored vehicle, "I'll be radioing for any nearby forces to immediately reinforce our movement into this suspected 'hotspot', along with a gunship..." Diving back into the depths of the armored vehicle, the armor commander's head quickly disappeared under the thick plating of the infantry fighting vehicle, with the IFV once again beginning to move out of its stationary position. Not needing a verbal command to continue on the 'reconnaissance in force', the armored unit (along with the two platoons of Marines in support) swiftly turned to the east to follow their commander, steadily moving towards the 'action' at a semi-relaxed pace.
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