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Post by Ignatius on Jan 8, 2008 20:11:06 GMT -5
OOC - In all due fairness, Ethiopia came out of nowhere without any warning.. One minute, we're telling the story of a bush war between two Somali warlords, and then next the whole damn Ethiopian army intercedes without any real reason.
Cape Town, South Africa
Ethan Isaac Hotel
After a somewhat clumsy first encounter with the Spanish agent at the airport, C.I.A. agent Jason Pinkerton managed to more or less get on 'friendly terms' with his Spanish counterpart, speaking cordially for several minutes at a restaurant before promptly driving to Pinkerton's temporary dwelling at a Cape Town hotel several miles from the airport. A fairly comfortable dwelling, Pinkerton's Isaac Hotel room came with a reasonable amount of "soft" comforts for the pair of men, and also afforded excellent quality of room service to tend to the needs of the two "businessmen". Quickly checking into their suite at the front desk, the bulky package awaiting "esteemed businessman" William McKinney of Roffe and Sons was delivered through the front door of Pinkerton's hotel apartment, lugged into place by a trio of sweating Africans struggling with its bulk.
"Well done, boys.." exclaimed Pinkerton, tipping the three manservants with twenty rand notes, "That'll be all, thank you.."
Bowing respectfully at their generous patron, the three hotel workers soon walked away from the America's sight, allowing Pinkerton to softly close the thick oak door of his suit from the prying eyes of the rest of the world. Slicing open the cardboard parcel which awaited him, Pinkerton sighed in happiness as he pulled out a variety of much-needed "gear"; smoothly rubbing his fingers on the smuggled equipment.
A personalized Kimber M1911 pistol chambered in the powerful .45 caliber was the first thing that caught the attention of the American agent, sleek and shiny in the black plastic box that accompanied it. Modified with fiber optic inserts within the sights, the weapon also was threaded to accept a suppressor and came with a reasonable amount of both standard (hollow points) and low velocity (for the suppressor) bullets in eight-round magazines. Accompanying the pistol was a compact H&K UMP submachine gun chambered also in .45 caliber, a small H&K P7 pistol (intended for use as backup) and an variety of electronic communications wrapped in plastic laminate.
"Nothing beats a good old .45, my Spanish friend.." mused Pinkerton matter-of-factly at the S.I.A. agent beside him, "Damn fine pistol.. A better bod-plugger than that puny 9mm most Europeans seem to favor.. and certainly better than that pathetic .380 the French used to carry.."
"No sir.. This fat SOB'll stop a rabid lion from twenty-five meters away, assuming you can handle its beastly strength.."
Slamming a magazine into the well of the M1911, Pinkerton calmly yanked back on the slide, sending a 230 grain hollow-point bullet into the chamber of the American-made weapon. Cocking down the weapon's grip safety, the C.I.A. operative coolly slid the weapon into the concealed leather holster positioned under his left armpit, patting the bit of steel affectionally as he turned to meet the Spaniard's gaze.
"Welcome to Cape Town, Mr. Garcia.." spoke Pinkerton cordially, waving his arms at the wonderful view the two men had from their suite window, "It's not exactly the finest place for a pair of civilized gentlemen to meet... but I assure you that I wouldn't be here if my government didn't specifically ask me to venture into this god-forsaken continent.."
"As you may well enough know from your briefings from the Spanish Intelligence Agency," continued Pinkerton, plopping down on his bed, "there's been a rush of Islamic activity springing up here in Southern and Eastern Africa by a variety of pro-Islamic groups, with violent clashes taking place in Rhodesia, Sudan, and (most recently) Somalia.. Famous Private Military Company (PMC) Knight International has been actively involved in these affairs for quite a long time now, though their involvement has been shrouded from the eyes of most people by the intense amount of secrecy they seem to prefer.."
"Regarding the events that have transpired in the Middle East," added Pinkerton, "Knight International has reportedly engaged in a massive military/service contract to the Ottoman Caliphate and gained control of an enormous amount of siezed oil wells in the Black Sea, effectively making it a colossal economic force to be reckoned with.. Rumors from our contacts here in Africa have given the C.I.A. reason to believe that K.I. is actively attempting to aid the resurgence of Radical Islam within these parts, using its enormous private military to directly support Ottoman-endorsed paramilitary groups in the region.."
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Jan 9, 2008 15:56:24 GMT -5
Oscar Garcia, nodding as the man spoke in a know-it-all fashion, politely waited for the man to finish talking. He then sat down on his bed, leaned back and rested his head on the sot pillow, and crossed his legs while folding his arms behind his head.
"Well Mr. Pinkerton, I do already know of this information. I do know one thing more than you it seems. After your nation successfully helped mine gain their Independence, Francisco Franco was never actually killed. We never retrieved his body, and ran many DNA tests to see if any of the blown to pieces people were him....but none of them were. Now, we are still assuming that the man could be alive even though its all very superstitious."
Seeing the American perk up in interest, he stopped and took a deep sigh before beginning to speak again.
"Thats not even the worst of it my American Friend. We have reason to believe that another group, similar to Knight International has formed. It obviously isn't even close to being as big or as powerful as KI is, but it still is a threat to our nation, as we have overheard radio transmissions from a ship that sounded like the man, and when a spy plane flew overhead, we received a photo that looked like him but again, could not be confirmed. Should it be him, he knows all the things a terrorist needs to know about my nation. You can see where I am going from here."
He finished talking to Mr. Pinkerton, and then they were both silent as footsteps could be head coming down the hallway. They eventually faded away, and then Oscar began the conversation again.
"By the way, I will need to see my contact tomorrow to receive my version of your gift if you know what I mean. I guess the plane delays messed up more than my arrival unfortunately."
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Post by Ignatius on Jan 9, 2008 16:55:13 GMT -5
"That is a most regrettable thing, Mr. Garcia.." mused Pinkerton softly, leaning back onto the soft mattress of his bed, "Rest assured that you have sympathy for your inconvenience, and that I too have loathed the inefficiency of private airlines for as long as I could ever remember.."
Both men chuckled at this light-hearted stab at humor, with the pair of intelligence operatives grinning at this all-too-true statement. Despite the massive leaps in aircraft technology the world had seen since the beginning of the 20th Century, the inconvenience of travel still plagued the lives of travelers and adventurers such as Garcia and Pinkerton.
"While other 'undemocratic' nations may laud the pair of our governments' attempts of reviving democracy to this dark world," quipped Pinkerton, glancing at his new Spanish friend, "it is the goal of the Southern States of America, or Confederate States of America (pick your preference), to ultimately see the spread of democracy throughout all the continents of the world. I must say that I admire the Spanish peoples' resilliance during the brutal Civil War you endured, and believe you to be every much the equal of us 'Americans'.."
"Naturally so, America views Spain as the closest ally and friend we have on the European Continent, seeing as the SPQR hasn't even given us the courtesy of 'recognizing' our government and both Canton Rouge and Protoa are both totalitarian countries that are of little interest to my homeland. Spain, my friend, has the dubious distinction of being our most trusted bretheren, and I hope to see more cooperation between our nations in the future.. especially against the Ottoman threat."
Abruptly standing up from the bed, Pinkerton briskly strode to the balcony of the Hotel Suite to stare downwards at the bustling traffic below. Scratching his pale skin, the well-dressed C.I.A. operative clenched his teeth in a moment of thought before turning back to his companion to speak.
"I hope your organization doesn't take too much time delivering your mail, Mr. Sanchez.." quipped the American, grinning at the Spaniard wolfishly, "We've got a very important meeting with Philip J. Knight, the very CEO of K.I., first thing tomorrow... Naturally, my own noble persona will be a 'businessman' from Roffe and Sons Inc., a respectable petroleum establishment located in Georgia.."
"Methinks that a small conversation with Knight himself will give us major insight to what exactly is going on here in Africa, and help us in this endeavor.."
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Post by Porcu on Jan 9, 2008 22:22:09 GMT -5
Lucius got the news as he was eating dinner with his long-time girlfriend, something he had been planning for weeks and having just returned from an operation in the Balkans he was hoping to get a little more out of the guaranteed break MI6 promised him before plunging back into the separate world of espionage and counter-intelligence. He was pleasantly chatting when his second cell phone rang, immediately interrupting any sort of romantic mood that was set by the dim lighting of the restaurant, the small candle in the middle of the table, or the small jewelery box that Lucius had sitting on one end of the table.
"Hold on a moment...", he quickly said raising one finger signifying 'stay right there'. "I understand...No, sir...Yes...understood..."
"What's the matter, baby?"
"Work..."
"Awwww...", Rosa mumbled, rolling her eyes at the same time. "I thought you said that you'd be all mine tonight!"
"Bella, I'll always be yours just...not tonight, sorry..."
Rosa's night was seemingly destroyed, but Lucius made sure to inform her that he could leave in the morning and still make the scheduled business meeting the following day. He noticed that her demeanor slowly improved over the course of the dinner, as Lucius certainly did not want to leave on a sour note. Returning to his apartment a couple of hours later, Lucius sat her down on one of the couches and promptly brought two glasses of wine before plopping his own feet on the small table in front of the couch.
"I'm sorry I have to leave, but you know how things are...", Lucius said.
"Yea, yea...People always getting sick before meetings, huh?", Rosa shot back with a smirk.
"No, but unfortunately they have the ability to skip out on some of these lesser meetings, which I end up having to fill..."
"Are you leaving in the morning?", Rosa asked setting the glass of wine down on the table.
Lucius responded with a nod.
"I'd hate for us to be on a sour note before you go...", she said slowly, enunciating the words 'hate', 'sour note', and 'go'.
Lucius again responded, this time with a mere "Uh huh" as he finished off the wine in his glass. Setting down the glass on the table, Lucius then looked up at Rosa noticing that she had a different look on her face, her eyes lusting over Lucius, and her hands slowly moving across her body. The dress she was wearing perfectly outlined her body's natural curvature, setting off a mechanism within Lucius' brain that quicken the pace of his heart, subsequently increasing blood flow throughout his entire body. Lucius was completely in favor of her proposal but took an extra second to gaze over the lightly tanned and amazingly fit body that lay just before him. The only thing separating themselves were a few thin pieces of clothing, however those obstacles were soon overcome...
===========================================
Nairobi, Kenya
Lucius entered the relatively crowded terminal of the local airport, the scorching African sun's power not being relinquished in the least by the limited fans in the small terminal. Adding to the misery of the heat was the chaos of the other passengers, many speaking English but some also French and Arabic. Good thing I brushed up on my English on the flight..., Lucius thought to himself taking his small carry on and filing his way toward the exit.
Upon arriving outdoors he spotted the car rental building, which was inconveniently built separate from the airport itself. He entered and 10 minutes later had a vehicle, completely financed by MI6, that would carry Lucius to Mogadishu...
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Post by Ignatius on Jan 11, 2008 17:47:14 GMT -5
OOC - Since Canton privately requested that I temporarily RP his side, I'll be doing so for the next few weeks/months ahead.
Sola Amin
Somalia
The battle was a slaughter.
To be quite frank, the Wild Geese literally ripped the motley miltias of the opposing warlord despite their inferior numbers with a combination of overwhelmingly superior tactics, training, and equipment. Using a combination of overwhelming air and armor on the lightly-armed and poorly trained Somali clansmen, Bernadotte's men easily cleared the open field of all resistance and encounter light, yet still dangerous resistance in the nearby villages and towns Aidid seized. Knowing full well that a bullet from an antiquiated AK-47 could rip flesh just as easily as a round from their prized G36's, the Wild Geese cautiously yet effectively cleared enemy gunmen in the more populated areas of the Somali countryside, eliminating each and every "unfriendly" target with the ruthless efficiency of seasoned killers. AC-47 gunships launched from Knight International's four aircraft carriers in the Indian Ocean swiftly made mincemeat of large concentrations of enemy soldiers gathering, wreaking havoc on the opposite side.
After nearly five hours of slaughtering the poorly-led soldiers of Warlord Aidid and seizing several important towns just outside the boundaries of the Farrah Clan's territory, the battle-scared Gaullist tricolor of France was raised over the city of Sola Amin, accompanied by the green-red flag of Farrah's Islamic Revolutionary Front (IRF) flew triumphantly in the sky, with hundreds of Wild Geese and IRF fighters proudly exhorting their cries of victory. Pip Bernadotte, grinning at the welcome sight with cigar in mouth, promptly donned his trademark sunglasses as his winced at the brightness of the Somali sun's glare. A happy man, Bernadotte nevertheless felt some twinges of sadness for the few casualties the Wild Geese had sustained during their fight, knowing each and every soldier in the organization personally during their years in the service of Gaullist France.
"You'll never be forgotten..." mumbled Bernadotte quietly, looking up towards the sky, "Comrades.."
All further thoughts of his fallen comrades was abruptly interrupted by the roaring of motorcycles racing into the scene, rudely crashing the victory assembly the Wild Geese and IRF had scheduled. A convoy of motorcycle-riding men, recognized as Spaniards by the language of their loud curses, rolled up to the flagpole, staring arrogantly at the Somali's and Wild Geese as they brandished their obviously American-made M-16's at the crowd. Furious at this incursion, Bernadotte swiftly brought the barrel of his G36 assault rifle to bear towards the head of the leading Spaniard, with the rest of the Wild Geese promptly doing the same..
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Post by Porcu on Jan 11, 2008 17:50:12 GMT -5
Mogadishu
Lucius entered the boundaries of the battered city, noticing that there really wasn't that much difference between the city of Mogadishu and countryside of Somalia. He grumbled to himself as he drove down one of the few paved streets, flying by huts and shacks as well as modest apartments. One thing he did notice quickly and the thing that made him most nervous were the patrols of the local warlords, who sped around in their nearly broken down trucks with guns and bullet chains hanging from all possible places.
Having the fortune of good intelligence proved to him by agents operating secretly in Somalia, he knew that a local warlord named Mohammed Aidid, was very ambitious but very weak as well. Aidid had his following and the support of various other warlords, but was dealt a major blow by another warlord named Abu Farrah, who interestingly enough was being aided by the infamous Knight International.
Lucius felt that his best bet was with the embarrassed Aidid and so he decided to park his car several blocks away and make his approach to the warlords house on foot...
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Jan 12, 2008 10:04:46 GMT -5
(OOC:Don't have much time so my posts will be short. I apologize)
The entourage had finally arrived at the destination, seeing that the fighting had ceased and hoping it was safe to 'move in'. As soon as they parked, all of the people aimed their weapons at everyone of them, an so they began to do the same with a bit of a panic amongst them.
"Cuidado! Cuadado! No! Leave the weapons alone men.... I assume one of you speaks English? Well...I have come here to enlist my men in your services. If you are willing to put down the guns, I will tell you more..." Franco was yelling s to get over the roar of all of the engines.
Then a man began to reply....
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Post by Ignatius on Jan 12, 2008 16:44:48 GMT -5
Sola Amin
Caught utterly off-guard by the prepostrous question directed at him by the Spanish leader, Pip Bernadotte lowered the barrel of his G36 rifle slightly as he peered at he strange sight before him, eyeing the motley group of haggard Spaniards who looked very out of place in the middle of Somalia. After several moments were spent by the mercenary commander staring at the human specimen before him, Bernadotte lowered his weapon completely, nodding for his men to do the same.
"This isn't exactly the best place to hold a business meeting... Senor..." growled Bernadotte, eyeing the Spaniards coldly, "And I certainly am not in any way one of those 'suits' up in Cape Town... My business is war... Pure, unbridled carnage.."
Following the cue of the Wild Geese, Farrah's IRF fighters lowered the barrels of their AK-47's in turn, looking at one another in a mixture of extreme suspicious and utter disbelief. Warlord Farrah, on scene with a FN FAL battle rifle, could not help but gawk at the unwieldy spectacle before him.
"My name, Spaniard, is Colonel Pip Bernadotte..." continued the Frenchman, drawing a cigarette from his jacket pocket, "and I am the leader of the Wild Geese, the last remaining soldiers of Gaullist France.. Believe me, I do not take kindly to interruptions by fools of any sort, and you'd best explain yourselves to me before I change my mind and blow your Spanish asses to whatever god lives in this damned continent!"
"Before you stand the finest soldiers in all of history," continued Bernadotte, "currently fighting under the pay of Knight International. We have participated in countless wars and conflicts since 1987, fighting in the deserts of Algeria, the rocky wastelands of Israel, and the bush of Rhodesia, Mozambique, Uganda, and Somalia..."
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Jan 12, 2008 19:37:48 GMT -5
Franco began to chuckle at the Frenchman's strong words, feeling that the man was trying to make him seem much stronger than he really is. He explained himself to the man after holding in the rest of the laughter, and played it off like a large miscommunication.
"Well Pip, excuse me, Mr. Bernadotte, I am afraid that this is a bit of a weird appearance for us. Let me explain myself and my men. I came from Spain, as you know already. My name is Fransisco Franco, I know go by the Rabid Wolf. My men and I were sailing off the coast of Spain, looting what we could and sending the shit back to Columbia, where my headquarters are. I am the leader of EL Nuevo Orden or The new order, a group similar to K.I."
Seeing that the man was not interested in hearing anything more of T.N.O., he then went back to his previous subject realizing that he went off topic.
"Anyways...we were sailing right, and heard you guys were here. Spain was getting a bit more ferocious towards us, so we decided to come here and have a crack at making money the way we do best....good old killing. We have been trained by the S.P.Q.R., Spain, and the S.S.A. and are now ready to do combat and learn your ways as well. All we ask is that a little money or dinero as I call it be sent our way. What do you say?"
Bernadotte was still standing silently, thinking this over and was about to speak until Franco began to add more information.
"Oh, I almost forgot. This isn't my entire force. I have a ship thats docked with about 2,500 men on board, and the rest of the "Fighting Force" of T.N.O. consists of about 2,000 more men. All of which are capable of being sent here. Does that help make a decision?" Franco added with a peculiar smile on his face.
The rest of his men were getting uneasy, and began to turn off the cars and stand up outside of them. Franco eyed the men and they stopped what they were doing.
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Post by Ignatius on Jan 12, 2008 20:23:36 GMT -5
Sola Amin
After listening to the Spaniard's string of loud-mouthed blustering, Bernadotte could not help but snicker snidely at the so-called "laurels" Franco had bestowed on himself and his rag-tag group of "soldiers". While a battle-hardened mercenary, Bernadotte nonetheless stayed in touch with the current events taking place around the world (via CNN), and knew fully well the horrendous reputation the former "Nationalist" had gained during the Spanish War of Independence and Spanish Civil War as an inept military strategist and politican, a classic example of the hubris of "Spanish" pride. The Battle of Catalonia (a phyrric victory for Franco) and Barcelona (his crushing defeat) , for example, had already become textbook legends of how "not" to fight a battle within the military world, making the angry little Spaniard the butt of many jokes.
Furthermore, Franco's stupidity was further revealed by his foolish decision to seek out Colonel Pip Bernadotte to seek employment within Knight International, as it was blatently obvious to anyone with half a brain that all business/recruiting transactions were always handled by the sleek, educated executive officers of K.I. themselves in Cape Town. Already ranking very low in Bernadotte's mind before meeting the "Spanish Bull" in person, Franco's undeniably stupid decision to waltz into a victory ceremony organized by Warlord Farrah (now the most powerful Somali warlord in the region) and K.I. personnel expecting immediate recruitment from a simple soldier made Bernadotte wonder what exactly went on in the minds of Spaniards, and ask himself whether or not all Spaniards were as stupid as the unimpressive specimen before him.
"Erm............" muttered Bernadotte, at a complete loss for words, "You do know that recruitment is specifically handled by the corporate bigwigs of Knight International, and that I am just a mere Colonel with no say in affairs of business? It's clear that one of you gentlemen made a very bad mistake in coming here...."
"But...." quipped Bernadotte, suddenly running upon a wonderful idea, "If you are so eager to prove your worth to Knight International and serve under my command, I'm sure you and your men could temporarily be of use to the Wild Geese here in Somalia before we go back home to Cape Town... and to corporate headquarters..."
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Jan 13, 2008 0:16:55 GMT -5
"I dont give a rats ass who is at headquarters. I have no owner unlike you, and I do what I wish, and I wish to be here and aid your men. If you want to continue to insult my motives, then so be it...I will leave."
He waited a moment, and then realized the poor manners he made.
"I appoligize for my rash bahaviour, but you must understand. All I want to do is fight and get my program some nternationsla recognition. I heard the S.P.Q.R. want to claim Somalia as their own.I bet you will need all the help you can get if that happens, and what better way then to gain recognition than to help in the defeat of the Romans, a people whom I have defeated before, even with little military planning."
He then hoped that the Frenchmen would't throw in the white towel like the rest of the French did, causing them to no longer exist, and give up on accepting him. He bowed down to the man and said,
"Well, thank you for your time from the celebration. I hope that we will be able to further your accomplishments. Now, to get the festivities to begin again, would you like me to have the rest of my men aboard the ship bring the alcohal we have there as well? I think that could brighten anyones day."
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Post by Porcu on Jan 13, 2008 14:55:08 GMT -5
Mogadishu
Residence of Warlord Mohammed Aidid
Lucius walked along what he considered to be a sidewalk, although to be honest besides the occasional cement block there wasn't much a formal sidewalk as much of a dirt path besides the road. Having parked his car several blocks away Lucius had traveled most of the distance already without even realizing it.
Turning to his right and gazing at the modern buildings he knew that one of them was where he wanted to go. Checking the location again by gazing at a paper he had stuffed inside his left pant pocket Lucius quickly arrived in front of the warlord's building. He probably could have guessed without looking at the paper simply because of the guards by the building's entrance. Slowly walking up to the entrance, he stopped once two guards got up out of their chairs and approached him.
"Who are you?", bellowed one of the guards in Arabic. Getting no response his partner asked the same question in the best English he could muster.
"I am here to speak to Mohammed Aidid...Tell him I'm from MI6 and I have a proposition for him..."
The guard looked Lucius up and down and figured that since he didn't look like a Muslim and since he wasn't African he was telling the truth. Turning abruptly and then speaking into a walky-talky he waved his head after a few moments. "I'll take you to him, Roman..."
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Post by Ignatius on Jan 13, 2008 15:37:00 GMT -5
OOC - Sorry about ignoring you, Porcu..
Mogadishu
After suffering a crushing defeat at the hands of Warlord Farrah at Sola Amin, Warlord Aidid's grasp in the entire territory literally crumbled to dust, with many of his former "allies" beginning to bend over backwards for favor with Farrah's Islamic Revolutionary Front. Withdrawing whatever waning influence he had to the Somali capitol city of Mogadishu, Aidid was forced to scrounge about the city for additional men and equipment to rebuild his shattered force, going so far as to even conscript thirteen-year-old boy soldiers to fill his depleted ranks of men. It would be no small wonder that Aidid would be completely shocked to see a pale-faced Roman standing before him in the heart of the lawless Somali territory.
"What the hell is this?" hissed Aidid angrily in Arabic, immediately drawing his gold-plated AK-47 from a cushion beside him, "Abdullah, what in Allah's name has gotten into you?"
"Sorry boss-man...." mumbled the guard, flinching at the sight of the weapon's bore pointing towards him, "H-h-he said it was important!"
Depressing the trigger of his customized assault rifle, Aidid wordlessly fired a loud burst of automatic fire into the body of the unlucky Somali clansman, spraying pieces of blood and bone onto the Roman's immaculate suit. Cursing angrily at the fact that "Abdullah" had stained his carpet floor with a mixture of shit and gore, the enraged warlord immediately turned his sights toward the head of the MI6 agent, staring holes at the unwelcome white man.
"What the hell do you want, white boy?" growled Aidid menacingly, nodding for the rest of the occupants of the room to train their battered AK-47's towards the Roman, "If I remember correctly, Il Duce left these parts many years ago........."
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Post by Porcu on Jan 13, 2008 16:36:01 GMT -5
OOC: Perfectly alright... ;D
"And what a paradise it has become...", Lucius responded mockingly as he quickly took a look around the rather small room. Instantly regretting he said it as Aidid's eyes narrowed and he gritted his teeth, no doubt considering whether or not he would pump the arrogant Roman full of lead as well. "But!", Lucius yelled trying to recover. "That does not mean that there are still advances yet to me made...What if I could offer you all of Somalia?"
Aidid gritted his teeth again. "You can't possibly do that, white boy. You have no business being here..."
"But I do, warlord...", Lucius began as he slowly became comfortable around the trigger-happy man. "It is true that Il Duce did allow Somalia to become independent once he stepped down and the SPQR has seen it rapidly deteriorate since then. It is also true that, whatever you might hear, the Senate has no interest in Somalia itself but the Senate does have an interest in rekindling relations between the Somali government and the SPQR. The last Somali government that efficiently existed was 15 years ago and..."
"That government was brought down for a reason, white boy. Do not give me history lessons! I have ruled most of Somalia for sometime!"
"And the Senate wishes for it to stay that way...", Lucius said still standing in front of the warlord for fear of his quick execution. "The SPQR sees you as the true leader of the Somali people and the only reason I am here is because the SPQR is willing to extend its hand out in the form of military assistance. MI6 knows that your coalition of forces was obliterated and that other warlords are now turning themselves away from you, but imagine their reaction when you say to them that Rome is behind you..."
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Post by Sir Metz a.k.a. "Metzy" on Jan 13, 2008 22:11:43 GMT -5
Oscar Garcia was sound asleep with the other agent snoring away in the room. He awoke to his phone vibrating quietly on his bedside table, and he turned over to grab it, letting out a soft groan from the effort.
It was a call from his contact, and so he picked it up,
"The swan is here" *click*
"Shit!" was all that Oscar said, before turning on a light and throwing on some clothes. The other agent awoke to him running around and buckling his belt and wondered what was happening.
"Hey...My shit is here, I'll be back in a bit. I thought it wouldn't be here for another day or two, but I guess be ready for our mission tomorrow!"
He then ran out of the door, down the stairs, and out into the streets. He asked for a cab, and hopped in.
About three hours later, he returned to the hotel. It was about 5 a.m. and he expected for the American to still be asleep. He walked back up to the room with his newly found briefcase in hand.
He was now equipped with two pistols, a sniper rifle and various other gear. He hoped it would be enough to accomplish what was needed, but he still didn't know all of the details about their soon to be voyage. He fell back onto the bed and tried to get at least another hour of sleep before his new partner awoke.
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