Selo Sellebi; Cadell Gaol, Cadell, KaedwenThe old gaol wall loomed ahead in the darkness as their little convoy crept into position through the empty streets. Even this late at night it was still stiflingly hot, and the men in the back of the unmarked van cursed the still wind and oppressive atmosphere. In the cab, Selo was driving whilst their unit commander, Pregis Cotene, sat in the passenger seat nervously checking his watch, the soft orange light casting a web of shadows across his scarred old face. As they approached the last junction before the prison gate, Pregis raised a hand and pointed to an alleyway off to their left, between a betting shop and a used car dealership.
"In here, brother" He whispered, casting a look theatrically behind them "You have done well, we are here early"
"Yes sir, thank you sir" Selo smiled, breaking gently and wheeling them around into the alleyway in a smooth motion, leaving enough room for the two vans following to disappear into the darkness also.
"Alright, men" Pregis breathed, as the engine noise died away "Prepare yourselves; stick with your brothers, and we shall strike a mighty blow against the old enemy this night. History shall be made, be sure of it" The response from the back of the van was a little muted, but the commander seemed pleased with himself, and quickly pulled on a balaclava. A few tense minutes went by before the screech of tires and the roar of an engine was heard from behind them, back in the direction of the main road. Bright lights flashed past the entrance to their alleyway, the engine's whine rising to a crescendo in the night. The blast hit them seconds later, rocking their vehicle even though they were well out of sight of the point of impact.
Pregis rocked for a second, before regaining his composure, raising aloft his Uzi sub machine gun and raising a throaty cry "To arms brothers! The hour of reckoning is neigh!" This begat a rather better response from the men in the back, and the van doors were quickly thrown open as the crackle-and-pop of gunfire began to be heard from the direction of the Gaol.
After some minutes of intermittent firing, dying down one moment only to begin again with a vengeance the next, Selo crept out from his cab to join the other two drivers, who were trying to catch a glimpse of the action from a hiding spot behind a rather sorry-looking hatchback on the dealership's forecourt. The prison gatehouse and part of the curtain wall, of drab late nineteenth century brick construction, had been torn apart by the detonation of a huge truck bomb, the remains of which were still smoldering in the gateway. The lights in the prison blocks were already starting to go out, as power to the site was cut, and the smell of cordite drifted towards them across the junction.
One of the other drivers, who was listening intently to a portable radio through an earpiece, spoke up after a couple more minutes transfixed by the distant echoes of battle "Our brothers have taken the KBC transmitter!" He exclaimed, in an excited hush "Soon the whole world shall know of our struggle!"
"Not a moment too soon" Responded the other other driver "I see movement by the gatehouse. Is that the Chief?"
"I can't tell" The first replied, squinting towards the two figures silhouetted against the burning wreckage in the gatehouse "Selo, the Chief is your charge, go and check"
"On it, brother" Selo grimaced, drawing his .38 caliber revolver from within his black overalls and stepping out a few paces into the street before shouting the agreed challenge "Are you looking for a taxi, friend?"
"Yes, my grandfather is drunk, could you please take him home" Came the reply from one of the figures. Now they were closer, Selo could see that the speaker - a masked fighter with a rifle on his shoulder - was supporting the other man, an older man with an unkempt grey beard and ill-fitting clothes. This was exactly what Selo wanted to hear and, quickly re-holstering his gun, took the older man from the fighter. His new charge was surprisingly light, which was fortunate since his legs seemed totally incapable of supporting him. The man also seemed to be mildly incoherent, and kept babbling about something or other a Selo coaxed him into the van. Then they were off, through the streets of a city in chaos.
Police Captain Wilhelm de Kock; Yarra District Police Headquarters, Cadell, KaedwenWilhelm was awakened in the middle of the night by the echo of a distant blast, before the wail of an alarm brought him fully back into the world. Along with most of the rest of his unit, he'd taken to sleeping in the billets around the back of the police headquarters - a comparatively new building complex on the outskirts of town - since they'd been placed on alert a week earlier. Still groggy, he quickly dressed and made his way down towards the operations room, which was a veritable hive of activity. A fat police Major was attempting to coral the burgeoning crowd back out into the corridors when the building was shaken with a dull thump, and the hum of background conversation dried up hurriedly. Another thump followed shortly thereafter, with a third impact smashing the windows on one end of the command centre and filling the air with dust and smoke. A strong smell of burning permeated the room.
"Mortar!" Someone called out from outside "Take cover! Take cover!"
"De Kock!" The fat major spotted Wilhelm as the assembled company dived for cover "This must be the moment you've been fucking waiting for! Get your blokes and deal with these bastards!"
"Right away, sir" Wilhelm replied, with a grimace "Bute we have to fi-"
"Just get ready to fight!" The fat Major cut him off "Let me worry about the fucking niceties!"
Without another word, Wilhelm turned on his heel and scurried away. He knew where he'd find his people - from the Yarra Special Policing Section - a short distance away outside the armory. His Sergeant, the elaborately mustachioed Alan Hofmeyer, had already started drawing weapons and ammunition, including equipment for Wilhelm. They had twelve men present in total, including, if Wilhelm was totally honest with himself, some right bastards. Even so, most of them were visibly shaken by the rude awakening.
"One for you, boss" Alan addressed Wilhelm casually, handing over a rifle and a couple of full magazines "Why can't the bloody ethnics wait 'til I've had my morning coffee, eh? Fucking barbarians" He chuckled quietly, before continuing "So, what's the plan boss man?"
"We're waiting for the watchmen to get their shit together and spot the shooters" Wilhelm explained, slinging the rifle and pouching the magazines "Then we'll snatch the fucks" Another mortar shell landed nearby, and with a violent pop, the lights went out"
"What the fuck...?" Someone exclaimed, in the darkness, before the corridor was bathed in the baleful orange glow of emergency lighting.
At this point, the fat major from the command centre re-appeared, rather red in the face and short of breath, brandishing his revolver with alarming gusto.
"De Kock, with me" He panted "Bring your lads... We've got armed ethnics on the perimeter... Gatehouse is screaming for backup..."
"Charlie's in the fucking wire, eh boss?" Alan observed, with a smirk.
"Right behind you, sir" Wilhelm nodded to the major, ignoring his sergeant "Come on lads, there's something afoot. Stay watchful"
Out of the operation centre through the main foyer, they headed towards the gatehouse through the now quite dark vehicle park. Mortar rounds had stopped falling for the time being, and the night was eerily quiet. The shouts of the men on the gate could be heard, even at a fair distance. Suddenly, there was a hiss and a flash, and the gatehouse - a small tin building serving as little more than a shelter for the sentries - was illuminated in a blinding explosion. This seemed to be a signal for the attackers, as the building was targeted with brisk small-arms fire and quickly riddled with bullet holes. There was nothing further heard from the police sentries.
"Fuck..." The major breathed, his formerly flushed face now looking rather pale in the moonlight.
"Alan" Wilhelm hissed, pulling the Sergeant close "Take five blokes and drag sir back to the operations centre, take up firing positions. I'll join you with the rest when I can"
"Sir" Alan nodded, his formerly jovial demeanor now forgotten "Toit, Eyers, Grey, Streek, Woods. With me. We're getting you out of harm's way, sir. Double up, lads!"
The remaining special policemen fanned out and sought cover in the darkness. Sporadic fire continued to come over their heads, and shouts could be heard to their front as the attackers advanced. Shadowy figures flitted from cover to cover, scarcely visible in the darkness. Wilhelm sensed one of these approaching in front of him, and shouted a challenge.
"Halt! Police! Do not move!"
This didn't seem to be taken so well, as it was met with a burst of poorly-aimed automatic fire and a shouted curse. Seeing the firer illuminated briefly by his muzzle flashes, Wilhelm took aim and fired back at a range of maybe twenty-five meters, seeming to strike the attacker in the chest, but he couldn't be sure, so fired again, while all hell was breaking out around him. More fire was coming in from the front, and more shadowy figures were bounding towards their thin khaki line, who, for their part had begun firing back with some urgency. Losing sight of the men around him, Wilhelm emptied his first magazine in what felt like seconds, his world shrinking to encompass little more than the elusive targets presenting themselves through his rifle sights.
Off to his left, someone was shouting for help in Afrikaans, though he couldn't tell who's voice it was. The blast of a grenade barely registered, as if in a dream, although suddenly Wilhelm felt very warm down his right side and had to fight hard against the urge for sleep. Soon, his second magazine was empty too, and he called out for the man to his right to cover him while he reloaded. Crouching down behind a police patrol car, a sudden stinging sensation in his left hand made him drop his magazine. Cursing, he reached down for it, but couldn't seem to find it. He was sweating profusely, even in the comparative cool of the night, and reached up to wipe the beads from his forehead, only to find this got a warm, salty, almost metallic-tasting liquid in his mouth and eyes. He looked at the bloody remains of his hand without comprehension for a while, as chaos raged around him, before making a belated attempt to dress the wound.
Very tired, he curled up and faded into blackness where he fell.
Premier Lindsay Stewart; Peakhurst Lodge, Belmont, KaedwenThe little office in Peakhurst Lodge - the Kaedweni Premier's official residence in the hills overlooking central Belmont - was abuzz, crammed to the rafters as it was with civil servants, senior policemen and government ministers. Lindsay, roused from her slumber in the middle of the night and feeling a little under dressed in her dressing gown and slippers, sat aghast at her desk as reports from the fighting began to pile up in front of her. Police installations had borne the brunt of the violence, with unidentified gunmen attacking a dozen police stations and prisons on both sides of the St Anselm Straits, though reports of shootings of local officials, judges, politicians and even priests were beginning to filter through.
The worst hit, however, seemed to be the city of Cadell, at the mouth of the river Yarra, where contact with the local police headquarters had been lost entirely, and video of prisoners from the local gaol - still clad in their orange prison overalls - roaming the streets was already beginning to circulate on the internet. On the advice of her defence minister, Tristan Sharp, the local Commando had been activated and were in the process of mustering, though Lindsay privately had reservations about their suitability for the task of combating an unknown insurgency in what was still a very fluid situation.
All but helpless to influence events directly, at the behest of her Foreign Minister, the boyish Koos Bierman, they put together a public statement for the morning press release.
Republic of Kaedwen Diplomatic Communique
Regarding the Kaedweni State of Emergency To the People of Kaedwen, and Mundus at large,
In the early hours of this morning, the Republic of Kaedwen was the target of an unprecedented act of coordinated and premeditated violence. While our brave and selfless security services are working hard to keep the public safe and bring the scions of terror to justice, we urge the public in the threatened regions to stay indoors and await the all-clear announcement from the relevant local authorities. With regards to foreign nationals in the country, while we are working with foreign embassies to keep you safe, please understand that, in the interests of national security, the borders have been closed until further notice.
The world may stand assured that those responsible for this affront to all civilized peoples shall be brought to justice, and we ask our international partners to assist us in this endeavor should the possibility for such action come about. Furthermore, please rest assured that we are doing everything in our power to keep your nationals in our country - our guests - safe from harm, and shall work through your embassies in order to trace any individuals who may have become entangled in the violence.
A state of emergency is now in effect.
Yours,
Lindsay Stewart,
Premier of the Republic of Kaedwen
((OOC: More to follow... when I am a little less tired...))