Ah, Belarus. The military here never stops arming itself.
Here, it's all about ground, alpine, swamp, forest, and air weaponry. The sea is too far away to matter, as is the desert. Out here, light tank troops and mortar batteries are usually out on maneuvers. Infantry companies, wielding pistols, carbines, and/or submachine guns are also out on maneuvers; some of them are mounted in infantry carrier vehicles.
In White Russia, there are many lakes. Out here, some amphibious warfare ships are out on maneuvers.
Belarus has no saltwater navy; there's no coast. But the lakes here are wide and deep enough. Someone probably couldn't attack Belarus from the deep blue something; but if they wanted to, they'd sure stand a bigger chance, and not to mention a more personal one, if they tried attacking from a submerged spot beneath the lake. For that, there are also submarines in some of the lakes...
Beneath the surface, such a foe snorkels now. She swims. Around her, pike, muskellunge, and trout swim around. Below, some huge sturgeons scour the bottom.
Ms. Onatopp ascends, and barely surfaces. Through the HUD in her goggles, she analyzes the ship before her.
It's a transport dock. It's got tanks, jeeps, and aircraft aboard it. At its stern, the Belarusian colors fly. Every now and then, an aircraft takes off, from its topside.
On the poop deck, there's an H pad. A hovercraft sits atop it. Its rotors are still...now. It's painted camouflage colors, and is almost a matching set against the common battledress of the White Russian infantry.
Below the surface, Onatopp wears flippers. One of them's got SPECTRE printed on its bottom. On her breast, the phrase "I (heart) Janus" is embroidered into her bra's fabric.
With all the intel she needs, Onatopp dives again. She comes up just beneath the ship's starboard freeboard. And somehow, she climbs it.
She looks around. No one's watching. Good. And as long as Belarus has no space force, she also wouldn't expect one of their satellites to catch her doing this...
Her diving harness has got a buckle on it. It's colored like the Georgian flag. (Kartvelian; not North American.)
But Onatopp's not here for Georgia. She's here for Janus, her lord and savior; whose head she would gladly squeeze between her bare thighs, and snap off, just to see if gods truly are invincible...
Onatopp sneaks around the ship, seducing certain sailors. One by one, their vitals fall victim to her epic sexopathy…
The captain is her last victim. He's the real head honcho, over the hovercraft's command.
Soon, Onatopp has commandeered it. She manipulates the surviving sailors into preparing the runway for her. Once it is, she flips on the engines. She ascends, and flies away.
It's only a matter of time before the White Russian High Command realizes that she's just stolen one of their newest and strongest birds. She waits for it...
Sure enough, a pair of missiles arrive, seeking her out. Onatopp can do more than out-fly them...but to save on the craft's fuel, she'll deploy another solution.
She launches her own missile, and dives. The two missiles lose focus on her, and chase the other missile.
In the mountains, a Belarusian general practices shooting his shotgun. His wife grills some meat. He's got guests over. It's a big night for him...
The crowd is terrorized, as the three missiles soar towards the general's home. The first one destroys the house, and the other two come down after, adding to the fireworks.
Some of the women blindly applaud, thinking the explosion was staged... It IS National Day, after all...
A stone bust flies across the lawn, and lands at the General's feet. The bust is of Alexander Lukashenko; the president-for-life of Belarus. The way it's landed, the bust is looking right up at the General...with a critical look. The General blinks...and faints.
A kid wanders up to his shotgun, laughs, picks it up, and plays with it...
Onatopp grins, with burgundy lipstick-clad lips, as she flies away. She's scored one for Janus...