Operation Black Dawn, 1995
Mission 22 - Covert Ops
October 1995/December 1096
Several Days after Operation Chernobog Freedom
"DEVGRU was a hilarious bunch back in the 60s. Buncha pansies who believe that they're hot shit for operating autonomously from battlefield commanders all alone. I almost chuckled at their 'hard times make hard men' beliefs, what a joke. Took 'em getting slaughtered by Nod to know that you need a battlefield commander, and to shed the mentality of a lone wolf."
- Unknown O.A.S. Navy Admiral, 1987
International Security Director George H.W. Bush [United Nations - Department of Planetary Security] - Camp Tiber Command Center - Dated December, 1096
I placed my hand on the door to the Strategic Command Center within the Radar and Communications Center, frowning as my aging body began to turn against me. My son, Shrub, had volunteered for bodily enhancement after he was qualified for Tan Beret membership. I couldn't help but grimace as I remembered his joy in telling me how he felt like he could punch out an Alabama tick with his newfound strength.
Strength and energy that I wish I had. Unfortunately, I was disqualified from receiving the enhancements due to lack of training, and my ailing body. It was saddening to see George Jr. never get to be with his dad on the job. In my own words, he was an eager kid, just too eager to see what's ahead of him, for better or for worse. I closed my eyes as I remembered the call before George Jr. went to Operation Chernobog Freedom.
"Pa, you'll never guess what I got today!" I remember him saying when he first called me after the Brigadier-General's speech. I bit my lip as my mind flashed back to it, disappointment in myself clutching my heart like a coiling anaconda. I clenched my free hand as swarms of emotions began to hammer my ailing heart, from choking disappointment to heavyweight dread and ending at embittered frustration. All swarming in my poor heart.
"Yeah, Junior? Whatcha get?" I recall asking him on the call. I tightened the closing eyelids as I stopped opening the door to recollect my thoughts. Junior was a good kid, but... I didn't get any update from him. God, it felt like sitting and waiting for Robin's treatment. The agonizing hours spent at the hospital waiting for any status update on Robin choked my heart like a smoggy factory.
I didn't want to repeat that with George Jr., the only son of mine who followed my steps into International Security. My son...
"I got assigned to the operation! I'm goin' to Chernobog, dad!" I grimaced remembering the phone call we had before he ventured out into the operation. I have not heard from him since, especially since I stayed behind in the Radar and Communications Center to coordinate U2 plane recon and Apache scouting out there. I should've been there with him, damnit. I recalled smiling and saying I was proud of him. I really was, but... God. Damnit.
I wheezed in and out as the grip I had on the door handle tightened.
A second later, I opened my eyes, hand still shaking, and released my breath. There was no time to mull about my son, as much as I hated to say that. I frowned and grimaced at the same time.
God, I hope Junior's still okay. It was just too hard knowing that both you and your son were the last remains of the free world's international security.
Regardless, I couldn't let my personal feelings get in the way of a security briefing by the acting commanders of the United Nations and Brotherhood forces within this camp. As the door creaked open, a wave of black and red lighting hit me. Internally, I couldn't help but sigh upon remembering the status of Nod's architectural doctrine. Black and red, all coated the room and made it annoying to see. See, now, what I didn't understand was their choice to use low lighting for Brotherhood designs-
I bumped my shins into a nearby chair, throwing myself off balance for a good minute, and grabbed onto a nearby table to stop myself from falling. I grit my teeth as I push myself up and tried to stand upright again. The pain I felt as I took a step forward overwhelmed my feet. "Gargh..." I groaned in agony, crouching down to feel my shins. I put my head back up and tried to limp to the meeting, leg in pain and shins bumped into.
Goddamnit!
I turned right while limping and eventually came across the meeting room. The room was dark, barely lit, and had red and black lighting glowing from Nod's equipment. Why we chose a Nod Radar and Communications center I do not know. In the center of the room was a large oval table, fitting up to 24 seats, primarily reserved for Nod officers of a high enough rank.
Though they were not sitting at the table today.
Rather, the table only had three people sitting in it, all of them facing a massive computer screen with a slideshow, presumably of the briefing. On the computer screen was a moving image - a gif, I remind myself - of a DVD Logo bouncing off the screen. When I came in, the logo had hit the lower-left corner of the screen. The three men sitting down burst into cheers as the DVD logo hit the corner, though I could only blink in bemusement.
"FUCK YEAH! IT HIT!"
"That's what I'm talking about! Go!"
"After hesitation, the logo has finally hit the corner... I can celebrate in peace."
It was like they were watching a College Football game. My favorite pastime.
Just lacks the physical brawls that come with victories or losses of College Football, amusingly enough. I smirked as the men in the seats - the Commanders of each clique, be they UN, Nod, or IDAP - seemed to revert to college hooligans for a moment.
I shook my head, approaching the table, a devilish yet amusing thought crossing my mind as they calmed down and composed themselves. I took a seat, staring as they were too busy talking among themselves to notice me. Oh, God, this was going to be great. Smiling, I coughed into my hands and knocked on the table four times. Immediately they panicked then turned around, only to come face-to-face with the 71-year-old Director of International Security. The look on their faces as they turned around widened my smile.
It was almost as if they'd forgotten that even an old man can have a sense of humor. Ha!
The Nod Brigadier-General looked surprised, with widened eyes and a half-open, half-closed mouth. He blinked in bemusement for a moment, before shaking his head and composing himself to a more normal face. One would expect that someone who once worked in the Secret Police in the People's Republic of China would be in such an amusing state.
The GDI Brigadier-General, meanwhile, frowned and closed his eyes, a few steps away from undergoing a full-blown tantrum. It took him all his might not to burst into anger as he shook, almost like an oil drill in critical condition. He breathed in and out repeatedly as the Nod and IDAP leaders glanced at him concerned. Eventually, he sighed deeply and let it all out.
The IDAP Volunteer-Coordinator, meanwhile, could only put on an amused face. However, he appeared to be disappointed too, as he shook his head and tsk-tsk-tsk'd along the way. From what I have heard in the camp, the Japanese man's patience was almost endless, and I couldn't help but respect him for that. Yet, despite that, I had never actually met him in person. Until now.
And, here were the three clique leaders hosting a meeting about security, future operations, and the investigation into the sabotage of reinforcements to Chernobog during the first operation against Reunion. Passing time by watching a DVD bounce corners on a screen was... certainly a way to pass time in preparation for a meeting. Though the subpar security made me glare at the Nod General.
"Goddamnit, Bush!" Brigadier-General Jean Fitzgerald yelled, slamming his fist on the table, chuckling heartily and loudly as the once-frustrated expression he had morphed into a sheepish, bemused expression. "You had me, you asshole! Thought that somebody had slipped past security. Damnit!"
"I warned you about upgrading building security," Brigadier-General Wenli Yang interjected, his secret police insignia just barely visible on the left shoulder of his uniform in the black-and-red dim lighting of the communications room as he leaned forward on the table, head turned to my right to address Jean. "The possibility of leaks must be solved by deploying plumbers, Jean."
"Me upgrading security?" Jean asked, baffled and pointing at himself with a shocked and confused face, a mouth letting out an unspoken 'Huh?' alongside widened eyes. "Yang, this is your comms zone! Put some sentry turrets here, Jesus Christ," He muttered, shaking his head and gritting his teeth. "Put at least two minigunners by the door, please."
"I concur," the Volunteer-Coordinator interjected, surprising the two generals in the room. His face was permanently affixed into an expression of stoicism and silence, bearing the signature orange shirt, white pants, and white helmet of IDAP. His dedication to his job was unwavering, I noted. It was incredibly respectable. "It would be appreciated if at least two men were deployed on sentry duty."
Sighing, Yang nodded slowly. "Noted." Yang responded, sighing as he retreated back into the dark, face obscured by his peaked cap, and giving him the vibe of a true PRC secret police officer. The extremely dim lighting and red outline gave a feeling of ominousness. Not just to him, but it applied to everyone within the meeting.
Amusingly, given the aesthetics and lighting of this 'meeting of international security'... we might just be the textbook example of a shadow state - a secret government, as one might say.
Though I might add, we're still human. None of this surprises me.
Leaning forward, I raised one eyebrow. "So what was with the DVD screensaver?" I asked, tapping on the table as I leaned my head to the left. "Boredom? Passin' the time while waiting for me? Or something else?" I asked, fingers clasping and an eyebrow raised.
"Passing the time while waiting for you, yes," The Volunteer-Coordinator said, leaning back and allowing himself to be immersed in the dim black-and-red lighting. "I believe we haven't spoken to each other properly," He looked at me. "My name is Sakurai Yasushi, International Development and Aid Project. Volunteer-Coordinator of all Humanitarian operations within Camp Tiber."
I lurched forward and extended my hand to shake with him, nodding happily as he took it as well, shaking it with a firm grip. The moment we let go, I pointed at myself. "George Herbert Walker Bush. Director of International Security," I said. "Acting commander of the United Nations' Department of Planetary Security and all intelligence assets."
Smiling, the IDAP Director nodded along. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
"Right, now where were we?" Jean turned around and pressed a button on the remote, changing the moving image on the slideshow into a briefing. 'EXTERNAL OPERATIONS BRIEFING' the slide said, a garish red color mixed in with a white background and simplistic font. It reminded me of a school administration meeting, only the slideshow was somehow of worse quality.
'Twas like bringing a PRC product into an online shop.
"External operations. First off," Jean changed the slide once more, revealing a photo of Lungmen. A before-and-after image showed the extent of the destruction that Nod's failed operation to suppress Reunion wrought. I bit my lip, closed my eyes, shaking my head. Reunion was a damn threat to our security. "Our operation in Lungmen was a pyrrhic victory, but for all intents and purposes..."He sighed, putting his palm to his face and shaking it. "A tactical failure."
"How the hell did we screw this one up?" I asked, hand on my chin as I stared intently at the Nod Brigadier-General.
"Our Black Hand team deployed to the area..." Yang sighed, shaking his head. "They began the clearing operation too early. They had accidentally murdered two peace officers, before chasing after a Reunion operative and in the process rang their alarm bells for the Lungmen Police, hence - they triggered their uprising too early, acting without a centralized plan and only orders to destroy the city."
"Casualties?" I asked, looking at Yang.
"One officer missing, and eight injured. Zero confirmed KIA unless you want to fold the MIA officer into the death toll."
"Alright. Now, can we be briefed about the tactical assessment of operational failure, then?"
"Alright," Jean changed the slide to still shots from the satellite of the uprising. "Reports corroborated to me from other sources—namely infantrymen, the Black Hand team, and Nod's pilots—say we were woefully unprepared for a full-scale suppression operation," He looked at Yang. "Officer Yang, if you would like to do so, please?"
"Here's our first point of failure," The slide changed to camera footage from the Apache gunships deployed in the uprising. On the photo, familiar shapes of drones were marked with a red circle, arrows pointing to them with "Multipurpose Gun Drones" written below them. "We failed to send air superiority fighters, self-propelled anti-air guns, or anti-air infantrymen. While certainly useable for anti-air, the Apaches were not supported by additional aircraft, nor were they warned of potential Reunion interception missions. Our critical lack of ground AA and AAA also impaired the operation."
"Couldn't we just send more Apaches?" I asked, looking at the Nod General confused. Didn't Nod advertise itself with hit-and-run sneak attacks?
"I could've-" Yang said, leaning forward and placing his elbow on the table, hunched down supposedly to glare at me. "But that would risk Nod losing the element of surprise, which as of now we need to preserve. As for why we only had four Apaches... we intended to operate under low-temperature weather conditions with rain to cover our tracks. Our initial Apache formation could work..." He breathed in. "In stealth, but NOT in combat," Yang retreated back, spinning on his chair and letting out a deep sigh. "I learned that the hard way."
"Regardless-" Jean continued off Yang's speaking. "Our critical lack of AA and our by-the-book planning for this suppression mission was what got us..." He comments, rotating his chair to look at Yang one more time. "Though I'm certain we would've gotten our Apaches spotted anyway. It's just our luck that they didn't have any fighters to intercept us... Because of, well... You know already."
"Here's our second point of failure." Yang spoke as Jean changed the slides. The slide changed to footage snapped by a video recorder from an Iranian Artesh minigunner. It showed a recording of street fighting between the Nod forces and Reunion forces. I watched and cringed as I observed the Artesh - or, well, Nod - rifle training. Many of them clamped the C-Grip without properly shouldering their rifle, resulting in recoil slamming into their shoulder. Some of them just failed to shoulder their rifle at all, some were firing their rifle with one hand and running down the street, and some of them fired from the hip, a feeling of painful disappointment washing over me as I noted that.
"Lack of rifle training for our infantry, and a low number of anti-infantry specialists—like partisans, mercenaries, and hell, even snipers—which gave our Noddies a hell of a lot of problems."
"You tellin' me that we sent untrained Iranian conscripts in urban warfare?" I glanced at Yang, eyes squinting as he leaned back. "Why the hell did you send untrained conscripts against a buncha cops and terrorists? Jesus Christ..."
Yang sighed and massaged his head. "I thought they would need the experience. After all, you don't keep all your units in reserve..." He sighed. "In hindsight, this was kind of foolish, given they were unfamiliar with primarily fighting in the cities," He glanced at Jean's coffee mug before moving back to face the people in the meeting. "Unanimous vote to construct a training center to train all our current and future troops in adapting to different environments?" He asked, raising his hand. "I say yea."
"Yea." Jean raised his hand.
"Yea," Sakurai raised his hand as well. "Though I would add to like a module for medical training, to ensure our personnel get proper medical training."
Nodding, I raised my hand as well. "Yea," I said, looking at Yang. "I would also request a module dedicated to HUMINT training," I said, glancing at my watch and seeing that only ten minutes had passed since I arrived. "We only have two Spies as of now," I pointed at myself with my other hand. "Me," and I glanced down at my ID card. "And George Junior," I sighed, shaking my head and grimacing. "We need more spies. If we manage to recruit more locals, I'll be needing more HUMINT-trained agents."
"Alright," Yang nodded. "That's our first unanimous vote as..." He sighed. "What do we call our pact?" He said, passing a paper into the table. "We have a list of names here. Most of them are generated by EVA. We still need to formalize our alliance, and I feel like starting with a name first is a good idea. After all, we're... a council now I guess?" He asked bemused even at his own words. I grimaced. We were in the middle of the briefing and holding a vote to construct. Are we really going to argue about names at a time like this?
I'll go help him out once we're settled on a name.
"Let's see," Jean said, lurching forward to look at the paper, before coughing into his hand once. "Alright. I'll read it. First off, the eight given faction names generated by EVA are as follows;"
He breathed in, face still obscured by the poor lighting as he looked at the paper.
"1. The Pact of Thorns.
2. The People's United Front.
3. The Unity-Pact.
4. The Organization of Allied Nations.
5. Army of United Earth.
6. Pact of Security and Peace.
7. League of States and Irregular Forces.
8. The United Front."
I couldn't help but sneer at those name choices. Really was generated by EVA if it was like these. These sound like... extremely overt and complicated names. Only something so banal yet verbose could be generated by artificial intelligence. I could only put my hand to my face in second-hand embarrassment at these names. But the fact remained that these names had to be decided on by the provisional higher command...
Sighing, I turned around to look at the slideshow presentation. "Yang," I called out. "Why the hell are we talking about this now? Can we just call it the United Front for now?" I lurched forward, tapping my index finger on the table repeatedly, frowning and glaring at the commanders, with the exception of the IDAP Volunteer-Coordinator. "Look," I felt my back slightly aching as my age caught up with me. Nevertheless, I had to speak to them. "We can host a ballot on the name later. Alright?"
Sighing, Yang nodded. "Alright," He took the paper of names when Jean handed it back to him. Placing it on a nearby table, he looked at the large computer screen with combat footage on it. He moved the slideshow forward, moving onto still images of security footage taken from a Nod-constructed War Factory. At first, the photos began with brightness. I cringed when I saw that the footage was dated during the first Chernobog Operation. Operation Columbus, Jean retroactively called it.
In a few photo stills, the power to the lights of the war factory was suddenly cut. And then the Camera switched to night vision. In the footage, figures obscured by low lighting and the camera's blurry footage scurried through the storage portion of the War Factory, where all the M2 Bradley Light Tanks were stored. Soon enough, the next panels showed the Bradleys being ransacked in the low lighting. With the figures entering through the rear door and doing something there, with blowtorches. I knew that Jean mentioned that during Operation Columbus, we were not able to send Light Tank reinforcements due to sabotage.
In the next few frames, power was restored to the War Factory the Bradley ammunition was scattered across the ground, useless as they were torn apart. Some were deformed, some were dented, and some were torn apart - bisected, even. I grimaced when the last panels of the captured footage showed the Nod investigation team taking a look at the storage portion.
To think that was why we lost an APC and at least two crewmen...
Bastards.
"Internal sabotage," I said, clenching my fists. "Don't want the Noddies pulling second-fiddle to the Global Defense Initiative it seems." I looked at Yang one more time. In response, Yang nodded in agreement. In anger, I slammed my fist on the table.
"Yes. Jean and Sakurai have agreed to launch a tripartisan investigation into this, alongside the sabotaging of GDI Chinooks that were supposed to transport these Bradleys to Operation Columbus," Yang said, turning to glance at the computer screen that doubled as a digital whiteboard. The slideshow changed to a still image of the interior of one GDI Hangar. In the storage section lie three CH-47 Chinooks, the larger brother of GDI standard the UH-60 Blackhawk.
The slide then moved to show a before-and-after comparison. The propellers were barely hanging on, having part of them sheared off, to destabilize the helicopters. Below the helicopters, a puddle of oil faced itself, the black stain coating the sterile white floor of the aircraft storage, with the intent to fully cut off any and all fuel lines for the reinforcement helicopters. On the floor were large clusters of glass shards, the windows having been smashed from the inside, purely out of spite. Below the 'after' image, the word 'Unflyable' was attached to it. They even cut the controls.
They cut the oil. They cut the damn props. They cut the fucking controls.
I felt an unbridled rage, manifesting as I began to tear at the cheap synthetic leather that coated the armrests of these seats, exposing the foam. The thought of sabotaging aircraft to endanger the passengers and pilots infuriated me. I just can't stand it! The thought that some... some damn traitors could j-just... Up and sabotage friendly vehicles in such a way...
I served in the American Expeditionary Force, damnit!
The thought that peoples' aircraft would be sabotaged just before the mission...
I shook my head in anger and tore some of the cheap leather off. The foam piles coming out of it were scattered like dust in a gust of wind. I couldn't help it.
It was hard thinking that people could do this as someone who was captured by the Soviet Army after my F-4 Phantom was brought down by a damn prep kid being petty enough to put sugar in the extra fuel tanks before a long-range mission.
Monsters.
"There are also guns that I've recorded missing from the Nod armory," Jean interjected. "We suspect that there may be a minor conspiracy against the coalition," He turned to Yang. "Continue, Yang."
"Our vehicular reinforcements were sabotaged, that is obvious," Yang said as he tapped on the computer screen. "What isn't obvious is the fact that these specific vehicles were sabotaged. The rest of the reinforcement helicopters with the weapons squad, mortar teams, and the armored personnel carriers made it there safely, but..." Yang stops for a moment, looking at me. "Someone within this footage-" He rolled back the slideshow to tap at the unknown figures sabotaging the Bradleys. "-Knew of the operation plan and acted accordingly. Someone within both GDI and Nod's officer apparatus-" He moves the slide to the sabotaged Chinooks. "-Was the bastard that led this sabotage operation."
"Which ranks were granted access to the operation plan?" Jean asked, turning around to look at the computer. "We in the Global Defense Initiative camp granted access to the operation plan to our Captains and everyone else above, " He suddenly slammed his table on the table, face contorting to an enraged expression, almost alien to see on the rich noble. "I'm gonna get that bastard. Yang. How about you?"
"In the Brotherhood, the plan was only shown towards those of the Paladin Rank and above." Yang proudly said, crossing his arms before frowning.
"In English please." Jean glared at Yang, crossing his arms as well. Yang conceded and shook his head.
"Roughly equivalent to the rank of Major within the Acolytes of Kane," He said. "This extends all the way to Regent-Prophet, a rank that is to be assumed in the event that Kane is missing and/or incapacitated. And it goes to..." Yang sighed.
"It falls upon you, yes?" Sakurai asked, leaning backward on his chair.
"Yes," Yang grunted, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "Call that an unwanted promotion..." He sighed, shaking his head.
"That reminds me-" Jean glanced at me. "Bush. I have a question for you."
"Hmm?" I asked, finger on my chin as I thought about it. "What is it?"
"Aren't you technically ranked higher than Michael Dukakis?" Jean asked. Sakurai looked at me, expression indiscernible due to the really bad lighting. "He's ranked as an Ambassador to the United Nations, right? Isn't there the protocol that in the event of the Secretary-General's death, the United Nations Chief of Staff is to succeed them as Secretary-General, yes?"
"And then everyone below that in a succession line, yes?" I asked, unamused. Goddamnit. Did I really have to become the public face of the United Nations?
"Yep. You're ranked higher than Dukakis, yes? Doesn't that make you the acting Secretary-General?"
Sighing, I took my glasses off, putting the handle into my mouth. "Well, yes-" I said. "But I'm too busy to take up the mantle. For God's sake-" I pointed at myself with my other hand. "I already have the United Nations' spy and intelligence agencies to manage, Junior included. I don't think I can handle also being the public face of the United Nations," I sighed, spinning around in my chair, before stopping to lurch forward and look at the three faction leaders. "Not yet at least."
"Alright. Want to take the position in name only?" Jean asked.
"I guess?" I shrugged. "Though I'm not entirely sure if I would have the time to enforce my rule when we get out of this quagmire," I rubbed my forehead, closing my eyes as my head ached. "Jesus Christ."
"Alright," Jean snapped back to Yang. "I want the bloodhounds on patrol. Yang. Do you think you can send the Black Hand to turn every officer's room around? I want every nook and cranny to be investigated by the goddamn Black Hand." He banged on the table. In response? Yang nodded, tilting his Secret Police cap to obscure his face even more. Christ, as if this dim lighting wasn't enough already.
I was going to bump my goddamn shins into a spike the next time I'd walk in this lighting.
"Can do. I'll draft up a team to sweep out any infidels and traitors within the Brotherhood's ranks," As Yang said that, I swore that I saw a brief glint of light reflect from his eyes. I raised my eyebrow, thankfully my confusion was concealed in this room. "As for you, Jean. How are you going to sweep and purge those complicit in the sabotage in the GDI camp?" He asked, the tone expressing a voice of concern.
"I've got my attack dog for that."
Wait. Is he-
He turned to look at me. That meant...
Oh goddamnit.
I sighed, rubbing my head again. "You. Want me. To lead an International Security Agency team. Just to snuff out the bastards who cut the fuel lines?" I asked, befuddled. In truth, I couldn't contain my joy as I realized that I'd be, well, snuffing out the bastards who cut the fuel lines. The fact that I'd be able to get 'em outta here meant no more United Nations deaths.
I grinned, concealed by the lighting or lack thereof.
I'd get those bastards, even if I may have to break a few eggs.
"Yes, Bush," Jean got up from his chair, Yang changing the slideshow. "Now, we have several potential suspects. Bring up the list, Yang." Jean commanded, walking near the computer screen.
The slideshow changed to a list of suspects, complete with mugshots. Taken from their personnel registration cards and put into the database.
"Paladin Sebastian Santander, part of the Carlist Paramilitary contingent from the Moroccan Kingdom," The face on the registration card was that of a young man with a rough beard, a gash across his nose ridge giving him the appearance of a criminal. "He's a hardened criminal. From what Yang remembered, the man was a dedicated Carlist. And an asshat at that too. Suspicious due to agitating camp personnel and inciting altercations between the Global Defense Initiative and Brotherhood of Nod paramilitaries, also suspected of being the culprit of arms theft from the Nod barracks."
"We dealin' with a smartass?" I asked. "I'll take care of 'im."
"That you will, Bush," Jean moved his hand down, pointing at another Nod officer, this time the registration card showed a middle-aged man with a scorpion tattoo on his face. "This? This is Paladin Slobodan Slavić, part of the Black Hand from the Nod contingent. From our records, he's a fanatic, solely dedicating his best to Kane. Mostly affable, but I can especially see a man like him being a fanatic," He crossed his hands. "He's suspicious due to being extremely close to secret societies inside the Nod barracks. Also suspected of sabotaging the power of the barracks, complicit with the arms theft from the Nod barracks."
"Nod men are so rowdy," Sakurai said, shaking his head. "Can you at least contain them?"
"Sadly, no. They're rowdy," He noted. "Now. On the GDI side," Yang moved the slide downward to look at the rest of the suspects on the list. "This is Captain Frank Walker. A veteran of the United States operations in Cambodia in the 1970s.*" The photo changed to show an older man covered in scars and with white hair. On the helmet, the icon of the United Nations Global Defense Initiative's eagle shone white as it was emblazoned on it. "He's a nationalistic veteran, I'll give him that. The reason he's on this list? We've got whistleblowers reporting him gathering with other GDI soldiers, apparently discussing treason. Other suspected charges include being found trespassing on the M1 Abrams storage in the camp."
"Christ alive," I pinched my forehead. "Is this guy trying to get himself killed?" I asked. Yang and Jean nodded, much to my frustration. I wasn't prepared to deal with any of this shit. But... I guess wading through this annoyance would pay off in the long run.
"And finally," Jean noted. "We have one that I didn't expect to be on this list, but here he's on there anyway," He muttered, the screen changing to a relatively young man wearing a Tan Beret, the UN sigil wrapped on it. "This is Colonel Klepacki. You may know him as the musician who's distributed mixtapes to the camp radio-" I snickered. I didn't enjoy his music, but it was very talented. "-But we know him for now as a man on this suspect list. His charges?" Jean spun around, Sakurai and Yang following. "Suspicious activity against the United Nations, specifically—he's been found attempting to peer into Jean's meetings without authorization. He also has been saying things that threaten to diminish our alliance's legitimacy."
"Colonel Klepacki?" I sneered. "The musician?"
"Well, yeah," Jean said, shrugging. "Those are our suspects who we think may have been behind recent altercations. Paladin Sebastian was part of a massive fight between the Iberian United Front and the Carlist Legion, and Colonel Klepacki has been attempting to trespass into the command center."
"We have any IDAP suspects? This was a tripartisan committee after all." Sakurai asked. Much to my surprise, Yang and Jean shook their heads.
"No bueno. We couldn't find anything suspicious about the IDAP contingent. Hell, not even the GloboTech contingent had any bad laundry on 'em. Safe to say we can ignore 'em for now." Yang noted calmly.
"Alright." Sakurai nodded, expression incomprehensible.
It was my turn to speak, and thus, I coughed and looked at the rest of the provisional council gathered in the room with me.
"I'll get an investigation in the meantime. Though where will I get the teams?"
"I'll reassign a Black Hand team to help you clear through the Nod suspect list," Yang said. "They command supreme authority over everyone else in the Nod encampment."
"I'll see if I can reassign a Navy SEAL Team to help you sweep and clear. Might even bring some Military Police," Jean interjected, arms crossing on the table. "I want you to search every nook and cranny. Leave no corner untouched, Bush."
I nodded and put my glasses back on. "Roger that. I'll be sure to pacify them."
"Alright," Yang said. "Now then. We are currently stretched into two situations," Yang changed the slideshow again, this time transitioning to two airborne photos taken from a U2 spyplane of Chernobog and Lungmen. Both of them were in ruin. Something that I had to thank both Reunion and his own men for. Smirking, I couldn't help but notice a written sentence on the slide with the two photos. 'Jean plz explain' it read. "Jean? If you would do so please." He glanced at Jean, who sighed in frustration.
Jean sat up from his seat, the dim lighting finally changing an angle to the point where it could make his face fully visible. "We have two fields of battle that we have not touched in a while now, and they're both our messes," Jean said, pointing his thumb at Chernobog to the left. "First briefing, Chernobog."
I sighed and clasped my fingers together. "Was... Junior able to get out of there?" I asked, praying to God that my son recovered. I knew he got out of there, but I wanted to know if he'd make it out of there. Hell, same with Stan, or Michael Dukakis. Both of them were shaping up to be great friends. Yet...
"Oh, yeah, no, he's still alive, if in emergency care. Same as Stan, our ambassador," Jean noted, before making his palm meet his face. "Lesson learned. Don't send an Ambassador unless you have a confirmed diplomatic connection to the outside world. Tch," He appeared to be pinching his nose. "Damnit, I wish I knew that. But this is this and that is that I suppose."
I nodded. "Continue on."
Jean clicked his tongue. "Right. Now, the problem with Chernobog is that while we do have infantry units stationed there, we have yet to perform a counterinsurgency operation. We're risking letting them slip by us, which I don't think any one of us wants, no?" He glanced his eye at Yang and me. I squinted in disappointment, but Yang instead just shook his head.
"Here's what we're gonna do," Jean nodded. "You remember Rhodes Island? The people that our troops encountered during our first sweep in Chernobog?"
"Mhm?" I nodded. Why the hell did they share a name with one of our goddamn States? As Jean spoke, my thoughts drifted to that for a second. The fact that an organization could have a name that was vaguely similar to one of our states... it both baffled and amused me. Hell, I could talk about how that's not expected, but I sighed instead. These aging bones could only speak so much before they'd croak.
Heh. I could get myself a drink before I croak.
Jean's words came back into focus as I put my mind off thinking about the implications of the mere fact that the company Rhodes Island shared a name with one of our states. The Pan-Americans were going to enjoy this, hell, they'd laugh.
I could finally understand the words as I started paying more attention.
"...We're going to link up with them, propose a temporary—hell, make it permanent if you have to—truce with them. I'm talkin' information sharing, battlefield support, intelligence support... Anything you can do to keep 'em on our side," Jean said. "Yang. I want your air support doin' intel work. I'm talkin' U-2 Spy Plane support, Drones, hell even just a basic flyover with an F-22." He pointed at Yang, who nodded.
"Copy, Jean."
"As for me, I'll do as follows: Take at least two platoons of Minigunners and toss some Snipers and Jumpjet Troopers, about, take about ehh... five Humvees, jog along three SIDAMs... and try to get a tank drop." He finished. Yang looked at him, before speaking confusedly.
"A Russian tank drop or just a tank drop in general?"
Jean chuckled. "Tank drop in general."
Yang sighed deeply and shook his head. "What're you gonna do, Jean?" He raised his eyebrow.
"What transport planes do you have?"
"Hmmm... Our arsenal reports about ten C-130s, five C-17s, and at least... two C-5s. The C-130s can carry give or take eighteen tons, the C-17s can carry about seventy-seven tons, and the C-5s have about one-thirty-five tons. Damnit, Jean, the hell are you gonna drop through the tank drop?"
"...Hmmm... could you lend me one of your C-5s?"
"Haugh... why so?"
"I'll be sending at least the following: M1A1 Abrams medium tank-" He stopped himself to glance at the ceiling. "-One EE-T1 Osório medium tank, and... can I cram in a repair APC in there too?"
"Christ, Jean, that'd be just a bit too above the weight limit."
"I know... Mind if I take one of the C-130s instead?"
"Alright, alright..." Yang sighed deeply. "Alright. What's the operation plan on this one?" He asked, as Sakurai, Yang, and I glanced at him in curiosity. The rich kid general stood up and took out his pointing stick. He pointed a little outside of the city of Chernobog, specifically up north. I could only raise my eyebrow in curiosity. "The U-2's spotted what seems to be a Reunion base in this area up north. There's traffic alright," He glances at the meeting. "Seems to be abandoned and turned into a makeshift Reunion base."
"Objective?"
"EVA, pull up the objective list."
The EVA system seemed to comply as a nearby monitor popped down and flipped over, showing a list of objectives that shone the room, if only a little.
"Reunion forces have been observed to be moving in and out of this city suspected to be a makeshift outpost though air reconnaissance does not see any Mobile Construction Vehicles. Commander Jean is to take a contingent force of Global Defense Initiative peacekeepers to conduct a reconnaissance operation—and when finished, the next objective is to establish the rule of law around the area."
"Well said, EVA," Jean said before the EVA pulled the computer back. "Exactly what she said. We're going on a recon-then-retaliate mission." He clenched his fist as he said so. Christ, this kid was worse than Junior.
And I had to use my job position just to get Junior in charge. Damnit.
I massaged my head again.
"We have managed to pinpoint specific Reunion positions that would need to be scouted out and assessed before we launch an assault. The air recon has also noticed an unusual drop in temperature over the area, with pilots reporting that it 'felt freezing' when they were flying over it." Yang said.
"How far do those fly over again?" I asked.
"70,000 meters 'bove ground."
"How far were they flying in this recon mission?"
"Give or take at least 1,500 feet above ground."
"Christ. It's cold from that far up?" I asked, pinching my nose and shaking my head. I'd been briefed about Arts, especially by the unlucky two locals we managed to retrieve from this shithole. But the fact that it got cold up top is my bigger problem.
"Yea."
Sighing, I waved him off. "Continue. What's our objective?"
"Alright. First, we have a vanguard force. That being the Snipers and Jumpjet Troopers," Jean opened up, crossing his arms and standing up to point at the computer screen. "Snipers'll deploy from this area-" Jean pointed to a cut-off park that was nearby the makeshift Reunion base. "-And make their way to a vital position—preferably a skyscraper or a tall building—and report anything abnormal."
"As for the Jumpjets," Jean continued. "Their objective is to wipe out their weakest link after getting information from the sniper teams. When they find a side of their base that's badly reinforced, their objective is to pacify everything there. Watchtowers, sentries, alarms, whatever fits the criteria. After that, the signal is launched, and the main force begins their landing."
Jean took a breath and continued speaking. "A C-130 will paradrop the Minigunner platoons, who will then provide an open path for the vehicles. Once a suitable open field is cleared, we'll send in the three SIDAMs via C-17. Then the five Humvees," He said, before turning to face the table. "The two Medium Tanks will be paradropped in later. But best we can do is toss 'em in via C-5."
"Alright," I said. "Now what about Lungmen?" I pointed to the photo of Lungmen just beside the photo of Chernobog on the computer.
"Ah, right," Jean coughed. "For that we've sent the spyplane. Now, as for what happened... since Nod was forced to pull all of its assets back, we weren't able to stabilize the situation in time. Henceforth, look at this," He poked at the screen showing the state of Lungmen city. "Left basically in ruin because we weren't prepared for a full-on assault, which, uhh..." He stops for a minute, rubbing the back of his head. Goddamn rich moron.
"I take full responsibility for our failure," Yang interjected. "It was my decision to make the strike team small that forced us to pull back. Though," He stopped to sigh. "We would've been compromised too early. We haven't even asserted ourselves as a proper government with roots in this land." He took off his secret police cap and put it on the table.
Christ alive, was Yang really going to take this blame all by himself? No. I had to step in. I interjected in the middle of the conversation. "Don't hit yourself too hard Yang. We don't have proper HUMINT set up, and our intelligence network is all but destroyed," I reminded him. Seemed like Yang remembered that, because he nodded in response, shooting me a sympathetic look. Well, through the dim lighting that was. "Christ I wish we had more ISA agents and Black Hand infiltrators when we arrived on Terra." I said, squeezing my nose in frustration.
"No, no, it's alright Bush," Yang replied. "I'm sorry your son was endangered in Chernobog." He said. I frowned and glared at Yang as he said that, and began to tear the chair again. The poor leather couldn't stand a chance.
"I'll find whoever hurt Junior..." I grit through my teeth, ripping out foam from some of the armrests in sheer rage. I'd apologize for the damage done, but I just... I just couldn't focus on anything but getting the damn bastard who laid their hands on Junior. "...And I'll rip their goddamn throat off." I concluded, sighing angrily before snapping my head to look at Jean.
"Continue, Jean."
"Right. As I was saying, Lungmen is in ruin because of our neglect and our inability to prepare for any response," Jean glanced at Yang and I. "Sorry, Sakurai. Almost forgot you were here." He quickly said before the IDAP Volunteer-Coordinator could say anything.
"No. It's fine. I just wish I had time to organize a small evacuation..."
"I'd say we'd be compromised," Jean interjected. "But I'm not in the mood for that." He coughed into his hand after that. "Moving on. To recompense for our failures, the GloboTech executives who were visiting the camp to check up on IDAP have volunteered to depart for a cleanup operation. In layman's terms, they're trying to make up for our fuckups at Lungmen by establishing soup kitchens."
"And you're supposed to provide security detail?" I asked, raising my right eyebrow. This was interesting. This dumbass having to pull security for humanitarian aid was something new, but hey, it could be worse. Again, IDAP was the Peace Corps but funded a lot better thanks to the Corporate sponsors over at GloboTech, so I might as well try to see if this guy can pull off the Chernobog operation and the Lungmen operation at the same time. I smirked as Jean groaned in frustration, letting his head down and making his palm meet his face.
"Yes, Bush. How the hell'd you know?"
"It's like pulling security to a Peace Corps envoy," I said, spinning in my chair. "I'd know, because Robin was part of the Peace Corps."
"Robin Bush?" Yang asked. "The Peace Corps volunteer who exposed atrocities in Libya?"
"Yep." I said, smiling. To think that one of my kids put out to the world just what a bunch of bastards nod were. Heh. I'd have paid thousands of dollars just to repeat that over and over again.
"Good to know," Jean nodded. "Anyway, continuing on. I and Sakurai will pull security. We'll be both commanding GloboTech mercenaries to take on shifts and provide law enforcement in the city. Last we heard from Akito, he's holed up in a building and it's currently hell. Lawlessness and violent crime have spiked up since we left the place essentially to rot," He sighed. "Christ, this is going to suck. Anyway, he's currently stuck somewhere there. He's got a team of volunteers who were supposed to help him set up a food stand in case of an emergency."
"Jean. Do you know who they were?" Sakurai asked.
"Yeah. His team's comprised of five GloboTech rent-a-cops, a chef-and-sous-chef duo, seven Peace Corps volunteers leased to IDAP for training purposes, a librarian, and... an archaeologist." Jean's tone flattened as he said that an archaeologist was part of the city team. I almost stammered as well. Because, like, just how the hell did an archaeologist get sent to Camp Tiber of all pla-
I stopped my own thoughts as I remembered that IDAP had hired an independent contractor to survey the area affected by Tiberium to see if there were any lasting damages done to potential fossils in the area.
How'd I forget that?
"Now, our objective is as follows: We'll send a team of mercenaries through—boy oh boy, the sewers—then they'll have to link up with Moriya Akito's team located riiiight... here-" He pointed at a small apartment building flanked by its collapsed ilk, presumably brought down during the uprising in Lungmen. "-And we're then going to set up a small soup kitchen. We'll have to position the GloboTech mercs to keep it safe."
He then tapped at another part of the city. Presumably, that was to be the location where Akito's team and the GloboTech team would set up their volunteer kitchen. "Once that's done, we'll pull in more of our troops as security contractors. Since the city's a lawless hellscape, I want to recompense for it. Hence, we'll be offering security contracts primarily aimed at the lesser-off ones. Damn the profit, I want to ensure that Lungmen isn't a goddamn hellhole!" He banged on an open palm with his fist. "It's our mess, damnit! I'll ensure the Initiative cleans up the mess we've made!"
He stopped and sighed. "Alright. Once we've secured a contracting base, we're going to start recruiting from the locals. Now, this is Lungmen, so I'm assuming—with all my heart and soul—that they're willing to work for warm food and a roof o'er their heads... Christ. It's our duty to provide to those lesser off than us. We're the United Nations, goddamnit! We're going to solve this mess we made. Better us cleaning it up than standing by."
A brief silence erupted in the table, before Sakurai clapped, and brought activity back to the table. I could only awkwardly glance at Yang, then at Sakurai. I bit my lower lip in sheer embarrassment.
"Well," Yang noted, clicking his tongue. "That's one way to build up support in the eventuality we get compromised."
"Yeah," Jean continued. "It's a race against time. We're going to get compromised," He sighed and ground his teeth together. "Better build up support while we can. We're not going to remain in the shadows forever."
I nodded. "Right. Now. I believe that's the meeting done?"
"Mhm. We will get a proper in-mission briefing later via EVA, but for now, I think that is enough," Yang nodded, standing up. "Consider this meeting adjourned. Have a great day, all of you."
"Likewise." Sakurai bowed as he stood up.
"Mhm. You have a great day too, General Yang." Jean said.
I stood up from my ruined armchair and nodded. "Alright. I'll begin preparations for an internal sweep and destroy." I said, walking toward the door. You know, I would have loved if they turned the lights up a little bit. Christ, this darkness-
I yelped as my shins bumped into something round and metallic, throwing me forward onto the floor, with my teeth slamming into each other as the floor impacted my chin. I felt stabbing pains in my body as I pushed myself up, my head ringing as I recovered from the blunt impact of slamming into a floor. When I got up, I frowned as I looked at what caused my fall.
Greeting my sight was a fucking cylindrical cleaning robot that somehow blended into the environment.
"GODDAMNIT!"
That fucking cleaning robot bumped into my shins! This stupid dumbass dim lighting got to me, Christ alive! I slammed the door handle down in anger and pushed the door forward, body still ringing in pain.
Note to Junior. I absolutely fucking hate dim lighting.
Notes from Bush:
United Nations Operations in Cambodia - A multinational intervention operation against the Brotherhood of Nod-affiliated Khmer Rouge, spearheaded by the Empire of Japan, the United States, and the Allied Nations. The intervention ended with a United Nations victory as they defended Cambodia against Nod incursions and squashed the Khmer Rouge.
Author's Notes:
I finally beat my skull-crushing laziness and churned out this chapter. This is going to prelude into Corporate Fuckery, which will then also snowball into GDI and Nod attempting to rebuild Lungmen after accidentally setting it on fire with their extremely botched operation against Reunion. Sorry if I'm going to bore you by not focusing on the operation in Chernobog, but I promise you that going into Lungmen to see the aftereffects will be a little bit of fun. We're going to see Rhodes Island again, and definitely the LGD.
Also, if you can see what I'm referencing by having Nod using dim lighting, then you have been in the Command & Conquer fanbase than I have.
Sorry for the boring briefing chapter, but, hey, that's storytelling for you.
See y'all next time.
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