Of Bears, Eagles, Dragons and Lions

[TheVulgarBulgar]

Ladies, Gentlemen and creatures of all kinds. This started as a thought experiment about the region I live in, Eastern Europe, how to make it better. And it grew from there. The ultimate goal of this project was to make a world that is a lot richer and advanced then our own by 2015, with a POD that benefits Eastern Europe in particular in the 90s. I have seen a lot of dystopian timelines, they are a staple of ours really, and I think what this forum and AH in general needs is a bit more optimism. That said, while this world will end up richer, that doesn't mean it will be all that better everywhere.

This will all be presented through prose, English isn't my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. The initial few chapters are edited by El Yanqui. I honestly feel like an asshole making him edit more so the rest will probably be on my own.

So r8 h8 and apr8


###

Fixing a broken vase

Breaking things, he reflected, is always easier than fixing things. President Bill Clinton enjoyed his custom chair -- the black leather, the lumbar support, the height relative to his desk in the Oval Office -- although he had considered changing away from black, since the chair got so hot in the DC summer heat. He rubbed his hands on the handles and smiled with that boyish smile that had charmed America. So much brinkmanship, so many backdoor deals. And today was the last one.

The national media -- nay, the international media -- had been hyping the meeting for weeks now. It dominated news coverage around the world, as the "two pretty boys" of Russia and America met in the White House. Unlike past visitors, like Brezhnev or Khruschev, this new Russian president was greeted like a superstar by the American people. People lined the streets and waved Russian flags as the motorcade of the President drove past them. There were photo-opportunities and a lot of waving as the two Presidents met in-front of the White Housen. But all of that was posturing -- it was inside the White House that decisions, and history, would be made.

Boris Nemtsov walked in, his smile unyielding. He wore a white shirt, with a checkered tie and a perfectly tailored suit. Clinton regretted his more casual dress, seeing as the press noticed all of these little details, but it was a bit too late to change into something more sartorially appropriate. The two men shook their hands firmly, as Secret Service and FSB agents filled both sides of the room. Boris sat opposite President Clinton and his black chair, and as Clinton gestured to his men to leave, so did Nemtsov. As they disappeared, both men visibly relaxed.

"How are you Boris?" Clinton began amiably, going for first-name informality right off the bat. They had refused the help of translators, as Nemtsov had surprised everyone with his impeccable English.

"Perfect, Bill. Getting here was a wild ride though." He grinned and relaxed on the chair.

Nemtsov's rise was unlikely, but a welcomed relief for the Russian people and an even more welcomed relief to those outside the country. He was not elected to lead originally; ironically, he came to power at the behest of a military junta. His opponents never missed the opportunity to remind the world of this fact, although Nemtsov's landslide victory in last month's election greatly undermined that narrative. Now, his power was backed not only by bullets, but by ballots as well. Finally, after almost 3 and a half years of Russia dragging itself through an ugly attempt at democracy, Boris Nemtsov was here to seal the deal to secure Russia's future.

"Can I offer you a drink?" Clinton said as he stood up and walked to a small, beautifully crafted liquor cabinet. Nemtsov shook his head "No Mr. President, but I thank you. My predecessor's... august example has led me away from the bottle. I'm sure you can understand."

Bill continued unimpeded, pouring himself a glass of 20 year old Kentucky bourbon. "I certainly do." he said as he walked back, remembering the crisis in Russia that launched Nemtsov's national career. With the death of Yeltsin from alcohol poisoning, Alexander Rutskoy attempted to constitutionally appoint himself as the President. The protests in response were massive, and were more importantly headed by liberal firebrands -- with Nemtsov at their head. Soon enough, the Russian military tired of disorder and disunity, and lent their support to Nemtsov and his liberals. Clinton sat back with the cup in his hand, looked at Nemtsov, and got down to business. "I won't lie to you Boris, this bill took a great deal of backdoor deals. Many favors were called in, concessions were made to Gingrich, and deals were made. But I think tomorrow's vote is a lock to pass."

The Russian President unclenched, his stomach loosening and his shoulders relaxing, as if Atlas himself had shrugged. It had been a long and winding road for the two leaders, but they had finally reached the finish line.

"They are already calling in the Clinton Plan. Can you imagine this? I hope this is how your people remember me," Clinton continued.

"Russia will never forget what you did for her, Mr President." Nemtsov was carefully controlling himself, but inside he was exploding with happiness. What the American media had dubbed the Second Marshal Plan was going to happen.

-----

Bekhan took a very deep breath, the Kalashnikov was pressed to his chest. He was one of the Dudayevstvy, the people fighting in support of Dzhokhar Dudayev and his Chechen Republic of Ichkeria. And in his sight he held a person, a fighter of the Provisional Council of the Chechen Republic who opposed Dudayev. They called them Avturkhanovstvy in short, even though the Council was made up of diverse groups from various Taips nominally united under Umar Avturkhanov. But a second later that wouldn't matter. The complex political deadlock and conflict that has lead to the absolute collapse of the new Chechen Republic into pure warlordism took a back seat. For Bekhan, this moment was between him, hidden deep in the bush, with water dripping on his head from the leaves arranged above his head and that person, who was on patrol, walking slowly and listening carefully for any sounds that may show the position of his enemy. The only reason Bekhan hadn't shot the person yet was because he was certain there were others around. The rain was intensifying, he bit his lip as the dripping on his head intensified. His finger squeezed the trigger slowly, until he could feel the spring that was connected to the trigger tense up to the extreme.

*click* the sound came from his side. He froze and so did the person he was aiming at. Before he could react, he heard a single shot ring out from the distance. He reflexively squeezed the trigger, and pumped the man before him full of lead, before his bullet-ridden corpse collapsed. Bekhan stood there, frozen, expecting to feel the pain any second. But the pain didn't come. He patted himself for holes or wounds, none were present. So he looked to the side slowly, seeing a body collapsed next to him, with a giant hole in its head.

"So that's where the second Avturkhanovstvy was hiding." he smiled and stood up slowly, waving at the distance where the allied sniper was based. If it wasn't for that man, he would be dead. Then he ran, he knew the fire would attract other people. Friendly or not, they were in the lands of a rival Tukkhum, and the moment the enemy found the body, they would want revenge. And that's what Dudayev's loyal Tukkhums were hoping for. You see, Dudayev's enemies together were too strong. But if they could get them to fight each other, life would be a lot easier for Dudayev. While Bekhan was secretly a Dudayevstvy, he also belonged to a Tukkhum that, while claiming to be neutral, had been supporting the opposition for a while now. He had pulled off several raids on this territory, leaving clues and signs that it was his Taip that was doing this. And it seemed to be working -- recently a skirmish had erupted between two Taips belonging to the two different Tukkhums. With the Russians refusing to intervene on the side of the opposition, Dudayev's men were hoping to crush the enemy In a great feat of tragedy, the glory-mad men like Bekhan never realized what they were unleashing. These raids would start the collapse of the social order in Chechnya -- the state of nature, as it were, would last for many years.

And the mountains would be stained, in their time, with ever-more Chechen blood.

---

Vladislav took a deep pull from his cigarette, the cold air mixing with the white of the smoke. Even as his hands grew cold, he smiled as he looked over to Mark Sanchez, the American investor overlooking their project. Sanchez, for his part, was freezing even beneath his many layers of clothes, shivering.

"You never learned to survive the Moscovite winter, didn't you Mark?" Vladislav said as he took another pull. He enjoyed smoking, it was one of life's gifts for Vladislav. Mark's eyebrows however told a different story, as they dropped down on his tanned face, his eyes bore into the cigarette that was hanging on the sides of Vladislav's lips.

"You know those things will kill you right?" Mark said through shivering teeth. The Californian entrepreneur was not used to such extremely low temperatures, as he spent most of his time in the southern states and in the Nevada desert, where he owned partial stakes in a series of local casinos. Now, he was one of the thousands of Americans who flooded into Russia, seeking the riches of the east opened up by the Clinton Plan. They invested, they constructed, they employed and they threw millions of dollars at the economy. In the process, both sides grew fabulously rich... or at least that is what Vladislav was hoping would happen.

"All men die someday -- from the sun, from the air, from sex or from drugs. Might as well live with what we enjoy, yes?" Vlad smiled, the cigarette still hanging from the corner of his mouth. The reforms had brought Vlad a long way. He had been born to two undescript workers, nobodies in the faceless Soviet system. Thanks to Nemtsov, a man like Vlad could be a somebody instead.

He had initially used a contact in East Germany to sell cars; he had imported old Mercedes and BMW cars to sell on the Russian market -- the miracle of capitalism at work! The West German cars were all the rage, especially now that people could actually afford them. Soon enough Mercedes and BMW opened their own official dealership, but there were always people who would prefer to buy cheaper, used cars. Vlad made a small fortune and he quickly invested it in the booming properties market. That is how he had met Mark -- the two of them wanted to build a casino in Russia, and Vlad had access to the valuable real estate. A working relationship had developed, and Vlad agreed to sell Sanchez a share of the land in exchange for a lump sum of cash and a share in the profits of the casino.

Mark remained bemused. "I don't understand the massive smoking habit you all seem to have. Every Russian I meet is smoking." As he spoke, he rubbed his hands viciously, in a wasted attempt to bring warmth to his dead fingers. Vlad could only laugh as he took another pull from the cigarette and threw the butt out of the unfinished window the pair was looking through. The rays of the sun were just beginning to shine, elongating the shadows of the vast construction cranes littering the Moscow skyline. This was a picture repeated all over Russia and the image of the Russian and American flags waving together was now commonplace.

"Americans brought a lot of good things here, Mark, but you also brought these..." he said as he pointed outside of the window where the butt had just been thrown. "... all in the spirit of making money, of course. Isn't that what immediately bound our two nations. Money?"

Sanchez couldn't help but smile at that statement. "You all had cigarettes before that, you bastard." The Russians, he thought, were fast learners. They had instantly exploded on the global economic scene with American assistance and their massive heavy infrastructure, vast land and resources. Industrious and clever men rose through the ranks as the privatization swept through the country. One of Nemtsov's most controversial policies was using developmental funds, sent by the United States in the Clinton Plan, to upkeep the lifestyle of the bureaucracy of the state. This carrot-and-stick approach cost him a great deal of public credibility -- to keep the apparatchiks in their dachas! -- but also helped to stop corruption and insider trading during the vulnerable periods of the privatization. That policy, of course, was backed with the sacking of much of the inefficient and unneeded bureaucracy, and a series of political moves that were designed to stop corruption before it got out of control. Even though Nemtsov's government almost fell in the elections, it held firm against populists, communist nostalgists and right-wing alike, securing a close win for the Liberals in the second democratic elections.

Vlad grinned and continued to stare at the horizon. "Isn't it weird?" he shook his head. "10 years ago I could have sworn the Cold War would never end and that America and Russia could never ever cooperate. Now... look at Moscow. Look at our President being accepedt in America as a superstar, look at your President's arrival causing a massive celebration. And there is this talk... of joining NATO."

Sanchez stopped trying to warm his hands for a second and looked at Vlad. "There is?"

"Yes. Many of the Liberals want it."

"But... why?"

At that Vlad smiled meekly.

"China."

Sanchez made a weird noise with his mouth. "You sure about this trip?"

"Yeah man. We were invited to Iraq by Ayman Sabawi, the dude is Saddam's half-nephew, he heard about our business together and wants to talk about weapons sales."

"Look, I know my business is already on the edge of legality, but I don't think importing weapons to Iraq is a good idea."

"Trust me, Sanchez, I have the contacts to make it work. Plus, Iraq might have bad relations with the US, but not with Russia."

Mark tried in-vain to warm his hands for a bit before looking back at Vlad. "Lets the get the fuck off the roof, man."

As Vlad lingered for a few more seconds, staring at the sun rising above the giant city, he smiled and turned back "...yeah, the workers will be here in an hour anyways."

---

Zlatan ran as fast as his legs could carry him. His boots were long gone, what was left of the sole was splintered beyond recognition, the leather tattered with strops hanging from it. It was a miracle these things were even on his feet to start with. He was alone now, Arkan was dead, lying in a ditch somewhere. A Russian convoy had caught them a few months back. The Russians were not like NATO -- they took no prisoners, and once they knew you were militia, they shot you on sight. Arkan had been too proud, he couldn't keep quiet or hide who he was. One bout of yelling in the face of a Russian colonel, and a Makarov silenced proud Arkan. As the young Serb ran, his mind was racing. He remembered the minute details of the confrontation. The Russian's face going red, his hand clasping the pistol, Arkan's goading that he wouldn't dare pull the trigger. He even remembered the coarse texture of the Makarov's handle, the Russian eagle on his uniform. The ultramarine beret of the VDV, kept pristine even in the mud and the rain. Zlatan could swear he even saw a faint smile.

And then the shooting started. He had seen Arkan's head pop open from the back, as he collapsed in the hands of the two Russians holding him. The Colonel put the pistol back in his holster and made a signal with his hand, before climbing back on the BTR. Zlatan managed to slip out of their hands just then, a few minutes before he heard the Russians shoot his comrades behind him. He swore, as a branch latched onto his already tattered boots and he slipped and almost fell. He got up immediately and kept running. He had been running for over 24 hours and he was well aware that the Russians were on his ass. The only thing the militants could agree on was the threat of the Russians -- that if thy caught you breaking the law, they killed you.

The NATO task-force seemed more careful, more rationl. It was a public secret among the militants, be them Bosnak, Serb or Croatian that if the Russians caught you doing something they deemed unlawful, they shot you. How can these men claim to be here in the interest of peace as they murdered their way into the countryside. What were they expecting?! They had hunted Arkan's tigers, the Teslicka Brigade and mudzhahedin in Bosnia, some Croatians in Herzegovina and elsewhere. They were now occupying most of Bosnia, Krajina and Kosovo. And while they had stopped the war, the NATO led coalition also decided what happened to the region.

The Serbs could barely bear to lose their lands, and now Serbs were to be evicted from their rightful homes and land. The occupiers, the invaders, called it population transfers. Zlatan saw it as the return of the German occupation, the second round of crimes against Serbia. Krajina was his home, and he wanted to fight for it. He could not see, in the heat of battle and rage, that groups all over Bosnia saw the conflict in much the same way -- and had much the same resentments. Croatians were returned to Croatian-majority lands, Serbians to Serbian lands, and Bosnians -- and even Serbia's Muslims -- to Bosnia itself.

And Zlatan never realized that the Russians treated militias so harshly, because they and their NATO allies cannot stand to lose a lengthy insurgency against various angry local groups. Of course, there were other ways to treat militias and fighters, but Russians knew no other way to treat what they saw as enemies. Zlatan stopped for a moment, his mind still racing. He looked around, hearing only faint sounds of the leaves moving. He stood perfectly still, his ears trying to pick out sounds of movement. He was pretty sure he was close to a road somewhere and from there he could probably slip into one of the villages. The Russians never shot anyone close or in the villages, too much exposure. After all, their NATO allies were hiding everything from the global media. They can't afford to have a lot of eye witnesses.

NATO... Zlatan thought to himself... I need to find a NATO outpost, his mind came up with the idea. If he could give himself up to NATO, they can probably send him to some sort of trial or whatever, and with a good enough lawyer he can get out of it. Or agree to testify. At this point he didn't care about anyone in the Tigrovi, he just wanted to live. A drip of sweat rolled down his cheek, as he could feel the sore feet and the pain in his throat, he could hear the blood rush through his ears. And then he heard it, the faint bark of a dog, and fear gripped him. He heard the voices and he ran. But he knew it was too late, as he heard the bark get closer and closer. Then the shot came, and darkness engulfed him.

The world would not realize, behind the triumphant declarations of peace, how costly intervention was in Yugoslavia. In the long term, these events would distance Serbia from the European community and the increasingly interconnected Europe, eventually pushing it into becoming the first European client of China.

###

[Usili]

I didn't comment on it from on AH, but I found the premise rather interesting.

Good luck with this! I'll be watching in any case on this.

[Soverihn]

Neat, you moved it over here.

[TheVulgarBulgar]

Opening moves

"...the Russian Federation and NATO signed the historic agreement, officially recognizing the Russian Federation as an aspiring member of NATO. In a historic visit, following the successful joint Russian-NATO intervention into Yugoslavia and Russia joining the Partnership for Peace along with several other aspiring NATO members from the former Eastern Block, the foreign ministers of Russia, the United States, Britain, France, Germany and a host of other NATO members agreed to add the Russian state on the road towards a membership. The country has been shaking by massive civilian and military reforms. Thanks to western investment however, the countries in the former "Eastern Block", chiefly the Russian Federation, have seen a massive spike in growth, following the partial economic collapse of the start of the decade. Recently, a study by the Central Bank of Russia concluded that the Russian citizens have regained 70% of economic welfare enjoyed under the Soviet Union, with projections to surpass that in the next decade. The development goals of the President, Boris Nemtsov, are for Russia to have an equal standard of living to the west by 2010. This is a message mirrored all over the Eastern Block, especially in the four Eastern Lynx (Poland, Ukraine, Russia and Romania) who have taken the charge in economic growth.

In related news, the Moldovan referendum's results came back with 71% of the population favoring unification with Romania. The two countries have created a commission manage the economic side of the merger. With Russian troops having withdrawn from Transnistria in 1993, the last hurdles to the unification of the two states were pulled out. While the massive migration of Russian citizens outside of Transnistria led to a short economic downturn for Moldova, this didn't stump the unificatio..."


Lin turned the TV off and leaned back on his seat, he had watched this report for the thousandth time. He shuffled uncomfortably in the car's leather seats, he found the Party and the world's obsession with leather seats to be... rather bemusing, they were never warm in the winter and cold in the summer, they stuck to your back and produced uncomfortable noises as one sat on them. The MSS, China's Security Service, however didn't agree with him and they didn't fuck around when it came to the interior of the vehicles, the little inbuilt television itself was a pretty good identifier of the level of care they gave for their better agents. As with most organizations around the world, the word "better" meant "well connected", there was no such thing as a good agent in the world of espionage.

He was from southern Zhejiang, one of the more conservative provinces, as such he was always surrounded by old conservatives and born again Christians, Lin unfortunately was gay and that meant that he had to hide his true self from his surroundings. He went as far as to marry a woman, the poor girl, to keep the truth from spilling. This proved to be a blessing in disguise, as little Lin quickly learned the value of secrets and knowing other's secrets became his trade of choice. He progressed inside the MSS thanks to his knack for secrets, but as the enemies kept piling up, the truth became harder and harder to hide and as one of his colleagues developed a relationship with his wife and jealousy stepped in, Lin found himself on the receiving end of a conspiracy that threw him out of the home office for good, he was re-assigned to Almaty, which was considered a low-level assignment back in the day and was the equivalent of being purged.

But the announced expansion of NATO changed everything, now he was back in the game. With an aggressively anti-communist alliance expanding to reach the borders of China, the Central Committee of the CCP was more then worried. This, sent ripples through the intelligence community abroad, especially the MSS rank and file in the capitals of nations considered neutral or newly-independent. If Russia was to become a member of NATO and a potential enemy of China, then the Politburo judged it important to have a buffer between the Bear and the Dragon. And Central Asia, particularly Kazakhstan and its oil fields, suddenly became the first flash-point of the struggle between the MSS and the Western Security Services.

Lin adjusted his tie and looked out of the shaded window, it was rattling in the wind, the car drove quickly along one of the superhighways outside of the capital of Kazakhstan. It was obvious Almaty had changed drastically in the past 2-3 years, China's own contribution to that change was beyond obvious. New super-highways adorned with signs in both Kazakh, Russian and Chinese, brand new glass furnished buildings, each attempting to out-compete the other for the top spot on the shiny new skyline. The agent smiled as he noticed a small mosque huddled between two large glass buildings, he found it almost adorable how despite its massive growth, Kazakhstan has kept its own unique character, it reminded him of China. What irked him, however, was that besides the logos of Chinese corporations and signs in Chinese, like a sore thumb, Russian and Western "trade centers" and buildings stood in defiance. This direct competition between the two economic and political blocks was driving massive growth all over Central Asia and the world.

As the car finally stopped in front of the amusingly named Mad Murphy's Irish Pub. Lin made sure to roll the window to a close and sat there for a few seconds, examining the hazel colored eyes staring back at him from the reflection. The agent smiled at the face looking back at him, this was his chance to climb back on the ladder of power inside the MSS. His hand gripped the suitcase tightly and he slowly opened the door, with the light from inside the car illuminating his silky red tie. The Pub he had chosen, held the honor of being the oldest Irish bar in Almaty. It was still not particularly fancy and its owners were a little to proud of being the oldest such bar in Almaty, considering its condition was mediocre at best. Lin figured it was an amusing allegory for the state of Kazakhstan as he saw it. The owners, by the way, were in no stretch of the imagination Irish, but that didn't stop them from adorning the place with Irish flags and singing
patriotic Irish songs.

"We love you miss Thatcher", a scathing and rather ugly, in Lin's opinion, critique of Margret Thatcher was playing in the background as the agent calmly walked into the Pub. Outside, the sky was dark, but a thick feeling of warmth had settled into the city, creating a sense of comfort. The Chinese man had frequented this bar for over two months, making it part of his daily routine. Not because the agent particularly liked the bar, it was to throw off any would-be trail into believing that the Irish Pub was just part of his daily routine. In reality, he was here for a specific purpose. Sitting down on one of the side chairs, Lin ordered a beer and opened a copy of People's Daily that was distributed to all embassy staff. After a few minutes into his usual routine, a man walked into the bar. He was dressed in a sweater and carried some sort of briefcase, similar to the briefcase owned by the MSS agent. The man, who was clearly Russian, sat on a table close to the Chinese. Lin glanced towards the Russian, who made no show of even noticing him, after a few moments, Lin folded his newspaper, clearing out the wrinkles on the paper with his palm, and went to the bathroom with the briefcase. Soon afterwords he came out with empty hands.

It took a while, as the large Russian man seemed to have enjoyed his drink a bit too much. Eventually, he stood up, briefcase at hand, and entered the bathroom. It took a while, but he eventually returned with the briefcase previously owned by Lin. Then, without even flinching, he payed his bill and left immediately afterwords. This awoke a weird feeling of insecurity inside the MSS agent, who finished his beer as always and finished his newspaper. He didn't even check in the bathroom for the briefcase, he knew what was in there. As he came out, he looked both ways on the dark empty street and then crossed it, opening the door to his car and signaling to his driver to go. As the vehicle came into motion, Lin frantically pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket, his hands were shaking as he pulled out one of the cigarettes, imported from some insignificant Balkan country. As he lit the cigarette, he saw the explosion inside the pub and cursed.

"The GRU doesn't fuck around..." he said through his teeth to nobody in particular. The Chinese man had been hunting the local contacts that were leaking information from both China and the Kazakh government to the Russians, but monitoring the Russian Federation's embassy was proving fruitless. And thanks to the westerners funding the intelligence and state machines the local agents were considerably harder to bribe. But finally, Lin had managed, or at least thought he had managed, to get a lead. This man, Ivan, had claimed to still believe in Communism, the ideology of his forefathers. Unlike most of the GRU who are opportunist rats, this man was an ideologue. It was good, almost too good, something which the MSS agent had realized. But Lin had decided to bet on this man and ultimately that turned out to be a mistake.

But the man was prepared, the smoke from the cigarette had already started to fill the car as the red tip darted up and down, between the lips of the agent and back. For a second, Lin bit the lit cigarette, freeing his hands, he pulled out a the silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit, and a phone from the pocket inside. The phone was a cheap knock off of a Nokia 232, it had only a few numbers in it, it was used for a specific purpose and had nothing to do with Lin's official work phone. He put it between his shoulder and cheek as he used both of his hands to open a compartment embedded at the back of the seat. A soft voice answered in Chinese after a few rings.

"Yes?"
"You saw where the fucker went?" Lin spat quickly, a he pulled out the pistol from its compartment, the cigarette still dangling from the corner of his mouth.
"Yes. The transponder is working."
The agent smiled, finally pulling the cigarette from his mouth, as one of his hands was free. "Where can i intercept?" he said almost fell off as the driver swirled around a bent.
"The corner of the 18th Linguistic High School. We are going coming along Gagarin Street from Zhandosov. Be there in 5"
"Done." Lin said as he let the phone slip from his shoulder, and turned to the driver. He was a curious individual, he never spoke at all, Lin was sure he was unable to do so at all. As the agent barked his orders, the driver nodded silently and took another quick turn. Lin rolled the shaded window once again and gripped his pistol tightly. Almaty was quiet during the night, very few lights adorned the city and its true beauty could be seen. The darkness was an ally to Lin, as he noticed the front lights of the vehicles in the distance. He put his right hand on the car's assist handles, hoping to god that it could hold his weight as he showed himself outside of the open window. Lin was left-handed, so the gun rested comfortably in his left hand, gripped through the silk handkerchief. He had forgotten to take his glove back at the embassy, which he would never forgive himself for, especially after being forced to do something this ridiculous.

The car finally passed by the 18th High school, an old Soviet construction, built with concrete panels in that soulless detestable Russian way. As the vehicle swiveled around the corner and onto Gagarin street, Lin had just enough time to unload a several bullets at the car as Ivan overtook them, so he made them count. The gun painfully recoiled in his hand twice, as his hand jerked back with each shot. At these speeds he was unable to aim correctly, but the second shot left a visible hole in the tires of the Russian's vehicle. This alone was not an issue the GRU agent couldn't handle, as he skillfully maneuvered his vehicle onto Töle Biy street. Lin's car, now way behind Ivan, followed quickly, shortly behind them coming up the rear was the Chinese Agent's local enforcers.

"Fucking bastard" Lin spat, firing a few more shots in quick succession. One took out the Russian's back light, while the other left a hole in the back window. "This has to end before the police get involved" he yelled to the driver "ram him!". The GRU agent's vehicle was already slowing down, as smoke was already coming from the front hood. It took a few minutes to get close to him, during which Lin reloaded his gun preparing for the hit. Then the cars connected and the Russian spun out of control on the wide street, the car took a few turns and smashed a roll of trees on the side of the road. The Chinese agent's own car came to a screeching halt. Lin ran immediately as the car stopped towards Ivan's vehicle. He took his coat off and wrapped it around his free fist, smashing the window of the driver's door in, inside the larger Russian man profusely bleeding tried to meekly fight as Lin dragged him out through the window, pointing his pistol at the Russian's face.

"What do you want?!" the Russian said through bloody spats
"A name!" Lin barked as he cocked his pistol
"I don't know!" the man tiredly spat, to which the Chinese agent responded by unloading two shots in his kneecaps triggering a series of screams as Ivan struggled to drag himself back.
"Next one is in your face!" Lin yelled again, he really had no time to loose.
"Timur Zabirov" the man screamed in pain "he is your motherfucking man"
"Good" Lin smiled as the local enforcers reached them. The agent signaled to them to pick up Ivan, what they did to him was the MSS' decision to make. Lin's job here was finished, he had made an international incident in the process, but this could be pushed under the rug.


###[

[TheVulgarBulgar]

###



"Boris" Clinton smiled as the Russian President was escorted inside the Chappaqua, NY home of the President. Nemtsov seemed tired, his flight was long, the limousine drove through adoring crowds and he had a ton of press-meetings, he had no time to relax. Now, he could finally show his fatigue, as the Secret Service and FSB agents fanned out away from the two men and into different wings of the house where they cannot be seen.

"Happy to see you Bill" the Russian President said as he hugged his equal heartily. The two men were very found of each-other, they had grown really close over the long conversations on the hot-line between Moscow and Washington. Their professional relationship had developed into an actual friendship which was shared over a barrage of inside jokes and comments which annalists would find bemusing at best.

"Jesus you look like shit, Boris." Bill laughed as he let go of Nemtsov and looked at him closely.
"Its your fucking country, I swear." Boris said through teeth "Do you ever get tired of being so damn cheery all the time. Not to mention the constant attention, everywhere. I can't even spend a moment with myself without an army of reporters swarming me. They took a picture of me naked... NAKED Bill... why would someone do that?!" Clinton could only watch with amusement as the Russian President ranted on.
"Because you are a powerful man, Boris. Because you single-handedly run one of this world's superpowers." Nemtsov sat down and smiled back at the President of the United States.

"We are no longer a superpower, and you know it Bill. It was very hard selling the entry into NATO to the Duma, you know that, those bastards still believe we are a superpower. You know what they said? Superpowers don't join coalitions, they build them. They can't realize that we only survived because of the Clinton Plan."

Clinton slowly sat down next to the Russian president "What's done is done, Russia is now on its way on joining NATO. It was just as hard pushing it through both Congress and NATO's command structure. Do you have any idea how many dicks I had to suck to get you here? We had to downsize the amount of bases, HQs and troops in Europe. Not to mention that in congress, I had to agree to help pass a number of Republican bills for the Clinton Plan, for accepting you into NATO they ripped my heart straight out of my asshole, Boris. Who would imagine the death of one man, and some posturing would be all we needed in the end."
"You mean the Chinese..." Boris started as he rolled his head to face the now sitting Clinton. "...they sure helped a lot to galvanize NATO and my General Staff I'll give you that."

"You realize what we started, right?" Clinton said as he took a sip from a shiny glass of whiskey he had poured himself a few minutes ago.
"Another Cold War? It was inevitable. China was going to go up against you anyways. Plus, your media sure is trying to find a new enemy after we collapsed. They are a perfect, terrifying scapegoat. Hollywood sold the "Yellow Peril" bullshit very well."

Clinton chuckled "fuck you and your high horse, Nemtsov, I have no control over this. Moreover, you are in no position to criticize me, you weren't even elected."
"Initially" Boris jerked his finger in the air "I held a free election and I was elected for a second term."

"You are still an asshole" Clinton said and laughed.
"Fuck you, Bill" Nemtsov smiled meekly, too tired to do much more. "We can still stop this. The Chinese leadership seems to generally be aiming towards reconciliation."

"Forget it." Clinton said as he took a sip from his whiskey. The Russo-American brotherhood as the media was calling it was spun excellently by both Hollywood and the Russian movie industry, both of which were drawing on the new, exotic enemy on the horizon, China. It didn't have to necessarily be true, as long as everyone believed it was true. The Intelligence communities of both countries, the administrations and heads of various NATO countries and the people were all convinced that China is the new Soviet Union and was coming for them. Clinton had no intention to fight this conception, nor did Nemtsov, merely because it served their purposes. With a clear enemy, they could push this Russian-American cooperation through the throats of their perspective establishments without ruffling too much feathers. "If we make amends with China, you can kiss our cooperation goodbye. You think those people under you, all the various Duma members and populists would allow Russia to join NATO? Or for that matter, you think any Republican would be fine with your military standing on the same council as ours?"

"I know. I just don't want to be the one who started another Cold War. Especially when the country we are about to start the conflict with is actively trying to avoid it."

"But, are they really trying to avoid it, Boris?" Bill turned towards the seated Russian. "They killed your man in Kazakhstan. They are trying to expand their sphere, aggressively. And more importantly, you were briefed on the debacle with Lee Teng-hui, right?"

"The Taiwanese President?"

"Yeah. That man is a living threat to the stability of the region, I swear. Last year, we had to refuse his request for a visa, to avoid an international incident. He still managed to get in, after congress passed a resolution, at which point Qichen and his delegation were all up my ass, yelling about the United States trying to destroy the relationship between China and America. You wanna guess what they announced a few days ago?"

"A Military action."
"God-damned missile tests, Boris. They are basically threatening to bomb the shit out of Taiwan"

The Russian president rubbed his eyes tiredly, he looked exhausted.

"I was briefed about all of this Bill, the General Staff has been yelling at me to raise alert level of the Far Eastern Military District and activate the Pacific Fleet. I don't think I am willing to move on this, though, any activities in the Siberian and Far Eastern Districts is going to be picked up by China, which can only leed to worse things."

"You don't need to go anywhere." Clinton smiled thankfully "Thank you for considering it, but this is between us and the Chinese. I have two
aircraft carrier battle groups that are currently prepped for deployment. I believe that should be enough."

"Which reminds me..." Nemtsov looked away for a moment "...I caught several high level commanders in my military selling classified military equipment to places like China, Iran and Iraq. Corruption is still very much a problem in Russia, despite what I did for those ungrateful bastards. Anyways, I had to fire a bunch of people in both the Military and Rosoboronexport, they were planning on selling destroyers and frigates to the Chinese as well. We are facing a massive problem, Mr President, we have dozens of ships, thousands of crew and weapons that we need to get rid of, because our military literally can't sustain them. And at the same time, only China is offering a reasonable price..."

"I know... my intelligence experts have been hard at work trying to find customers for your shit, Boris. Ironic isn't it?" Clinton smile once again, as Nemtsov nodded he continued "...the Indians would be interested, as well as Egypt, Pakistan has been showing some interest, and if information leaks that India is interested you are bound to see them buying all they can to counteract the Indians. Though they are also showing interest in contracts with the Chinese, knowing how China is friendly to Pakistan this might not be a surprise. An idea floated around by the experts is to have your defense contractors work with ours to upgrade your equipment and sell it to various..."

"...no Bill. I am sorry, but the Military has rolled over for a lot of things. Making them hand technology over to the United States' own researchers will be nigh impossible."

"I understand. We all have our secrets. Anyways, how about we get dinner and we can talk this through more thoroughly."

###

[TheVulgarBulgar]

Before starting this scene, I have to apologize, this is more of a character development scene then anything else. WARNING, it includes sexy images of gay men, do avoid if that's not your thing. But I should also note that's not the main port of the post, it is just in there. Warn me if it is too much, I can edit it and remove potentially offensive parts.

***

The Executive Assistant to the Ambassador burst in the room, his round face was discolored and he was obviously furious. Notoriously short tempered, Jiang was despised by most of the Embassy staff, he believe himself to be the most important person in the embassy after the Ambassador. However, there was something unusual Lin noticed in those small black eyes of his. The Assistant threw a leather folder on the table. With a tilt in his head he invited Lin to read it, sliding his hands in his pockets. The agent always found his dramatics to be laughable, but curiosity was a cruel thing, so he opened the folder.

It had the Emblem of the People's Republic of China stamped on it. As the agent opened it, a fierce grin filled his face, displaying his little crooked canine tooth. Lin preferred to keep his lips pursed when smiling, he never liked that tooth, but in rare occasions like this, he just let it go. The agent had realized, even as the shooting was ongoing, that he would get a massive scolding from the Ambassador and thought Jiang was here just for that. And perhaps, initially, even Jiang thought that was the case, but after reading the news, Lin stared directly at Jiang's little ugly eyes.

"Thank you. Is there something else you want to tell me?" he said, with that fierce smile still there. He could see the Assistant was fuming.
"What you did was... unacceptable." he stuttered for a bit, he wanted to yell at the agent, but he couldn't, not anymore.
Lin lifted the folder he was holding "Clearly the Ministry doesn't agree."
"The Ministry didn't have to fix the mess you created. They just got their targets tracked and whacked, plugging the leaking information hole. We, on the other hand, had to buy off so many people, hide so many clues... and we still only barely managed to cover up your little run-in with the Russians."
"Thank you for your feedback, Assistant. Is that all?"
Jiang swallowed his anger and pointed towards the leather folder "Your tickets are inside. Your flight is later today. If there is one good thing out of this endeavor, its the fact that I will not see you soon."

Lin quickly shuffled through the pages of the documents inside, finding the tickets. Things were moving quickly now, almost too quickly for his liking. But the flight to Beijing and then to Fujian was a long one, he had enough time to introduce himself with his new task that was already put on his shoulders. They were rotating him out. Possibly to bring someone less prone to shoot up the place.

The whirl of the jet engines and the smell of the tarmac brought bad memories to Lin, the agent never liked airports and especially military airports. His two flights were smooth, however, he left the embassy a few hours after his conversation with Jiang, slept in the flight back to the capital, met with several local friends before transferring to a flight to Fujian. As the plain had landed, he stood up, got the luggage from the compartment above and queued behind the soldiers, all uniformed and slowly exiting the passenger jet that was used for the needs of the military. Lin was aware some of the boys were eyeballing him, it was natural. He was in a plain suit, with no particular military ranks or distinctions. Everyone knew how to recognize the MSS as they saw them. Lin remained bemused as he passed through the exit and stepped onto the iron stairs. The wind was picking up outside, shaking the stairs as Lin descended down. As he reached the bottom, he smiled.

"Yun, you are the last man I expected to see here..." Lin's mood suddenly changed to a far lighter one, Yun was used to be one of his closest friends back in Zhejiang, that thrice forsaken place he thought to himself, even after he was discredited, Yun had continued communication with his friend, albeit more low key and a lot more secretly. What Yu-Huan Lin didn't know, was that Bai Yun, his childhood friend, had done his own progression through the ranks, while being a Princeling was not held in high regard in the Military, Bai Yun had just enough connections and brains to get pushed forward but not too much for the top brass to come after him. And now here he was, a Da Xiao (大校, Grand Field Officer/Brigadier). "...you became a Brigadier? In the Second Artillery Corps no less?! Why didn't you tell me?"

Yun's smile wavered for a bit, Lin just nodded. He understood that Da Xiao Bai Yun couldn't exactly be open about his relationship with Lin, even if Lin had regained his rank in the MSS. "Anyways..." Yun smiled again, his rather large nose wrinkled under the lightly framed glasses "...I am very happy to see you Comrade. It is a good day for China, central command has given us the green light with the... exercises..." he shifted his gaze as he said that "...in Fujian."

Lin's expression froze, the smile slowly dissipated as his arm arched around Yun's shoulder, pulling him away from the line of soldiers descending the stairs and away from ears that can hear them. His voice had suddenly changed to a whisper "So they have decided? When?". Yun's smile also slowly disappeared as he spoke about this.

"Soon. Very soon. I can't say I am very happy about this."

Lin nodded slowly "Understandable, Comrade" he said in that cold professional voice his comrades had grown to hate. Yun instantly understood what Lin was implying but remained unflinching.

"Last time this happened, I wasn't born. But the politburo knows best, ours is to follow the lead of our betters."

the Agent slowly smiled "Indeed. Don't worry Yun, I am not on a witch hunt. As long as you watch your tongue of course."

"Comrade Yu-Huan, I am a Brigadier in the Second Artillery. I did not reach this rank without knowing how to speak and when to speak. You, however, are a friend, and as such I do allow myself a few... pleasantries. Will you watch the launch tomorrow?"

"It will be my pleasure." Lin's voice was back and he turned back to see all the boys that were leaving the jet. He didn't know if he was staring at a bunch of soldiers who were in for a show of force and then a long flight back home or a bunch of lambs prepared for the meat-grinder. He was sure the Westerners were not going to take posturing all that well, especially the Russians who were already paranoid. But he understood why the Communist Party was doing this, China needed to show strength in the face of western expansion. He couldn't yet judge how the west would react, but something childish in him couldn't wait to see the missile fire towards Taiwan. Something in him was yearning for the excitement of war, even if he knew it was unlikely it would explode. Yun broke him out of his daydream, as he pointed towards the sky. A pair of silver Chengdu J-7 were flying in the distance and as if on cue, they turned around and flew above the airfield, their thunderous engines shaking the earth. The boys exiting the jet stopped instantly and turned towards the sky, pointing, laughing and cheering.

"Pff" he heard Yun huff "Have I ever told you that when the armed forces ends, the airforce begins?"
Lin and Yun shared a hearty laugh. The agent turned towards the Commander, his whole demeanor had changed. A small smile remained on his face.

"Comrade..." he started, carefully, his heart rose in his chest, it has been a while "...will you join me in my hotel room to share a drink." his voice almost trembled, but he managed to hold it back. Lin still thought his longtime friend was attractive, despite his big nose, the lightly rimed glasses didn't hide his beautiful green eyes and that perfect smile. Lin hadn't realized how much he actually missed that.

Yun looked away for a moment, then back to Lin, his green eyes staring directly into the agent's soul. "We are not in Zhejiang any more, my friend." he almost whispered. "But while they..." his hand pointed at the recruits "...will not judge us, our positions are such that we cannot continue our..." he stuttered on the words, it was still hard "...relationship."

Lin's smile was gone. His expression was frozen, he was examining the elongated face of the Brigadier. "I am not asking for a relationship, comrade." he said in an increasingly colder tone "I am asking for a drink."

"A drink I can give you. I cannot promise anything else, Comrade."

After half an hour of conversations and catching up, the two men climbed onto a car provided by the ministry. Lin was insisting on driving, so nobody noticed them leaving the base or knew where both were going. Eventually, they reached Lin's hotel, the agent checked in and they climbed the stairs. The hotel itself was payed for by the MSS, so it was nice and expensive, the room was on the second floor, by Lin's request, so if push comes to shove he can jump out, but without the room being to close to the street for people to be able to look in. The agent and solder were already kissing in front of the door, this has been too long in coming so they were both excited. Lin felt the heat of the man's body, the excitement, the thrill and the naked desire. He nearly broke the card-lock as he tried to unlock the door faster, pushing the door in with Yun's body.

The Brigadier was already fighting to remove Lin's tie, the door slammed shut behind them as they both struggled onto the bed. What followed were a few hours of good sex the agent thought was impossible to come-by nowadays. He had missed what Bai Yun was capable of and was pleasantly surprised to see that the man hadn't lost his edge. When they finished, Lin stood up and walked to the window overlooking the calm street below, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Yun had voiced his displeasure of this particular habit of Lin many times back when they were in the province.

"After I left, have you had others" Lin asked, he had felt the tingle of jealousy at the creeping realization that there is only way the Dai Xiao could have remained this good.

Yun locked eyes with the eyes of Lin reflected in the window "Have you?" he shot back.

"Don't evade the question, Comrade." the cold voice was back, Yun couldn't help but smile as he walked up to Lin, his green eyes still stuck on the agent's gaze. He put his hand around the agent's waist and pulled him closed.

"Is this jealousy I am feeling, Agent Lin?" his eyes had a playful fire

"Perhaps." Lin couldn't help but smile himself, Yun always knew how to get under his skin. "I missed you." he said, turning around and wrapping his hands around the brigadier's neck.

"I missed you as well, Lin. I am sorry." he pulled back for a second, but the agent pulled him back and kissed him.

"I realize we cannot continue this, our ranks do not allow us to share a relationship. But perhaps while I am here..."

"You will leave in a few days."

"I know. At least it will be a good few days."

After a few hours of fun, both man had to separate, Yun had duties he had to attend to and Lin got dressed and left for his meeting with the "Big Man", a prospect that made the agent nervous as hell. He had taken great strides to hide his stress both from Yun and himself, nobody knew he was going to meet the Minister, he himself wasn't aware until he got a call from the agency shortly after him and Yun had finished.

After putting on a fashionable gray suit and tied a skinny tie, something he hadn't done in a while. He liked the style, its just that he never got around to buying more then a few skinny ties and he preferred to wear them on important occasions. It was the accent of his suit.

As he arrived at the local MSS office, he was already pretty excited. As any good agent, he knew how to hide it, but he felt his stomach shrink. Considering he is early, he lit a cigarette in his car and took a few puffs, he didn't want to do it in front of the office, it was in poor taste. As the red tip of the cigarette withered away, a tap on the window startled Lin. Turning to his side he saw a tall man dressed in an official suit and he froze. Jia Chunwang's features were instantly recognizable to any agent of the MSS, the two guards flanking him were just as much as a give away. Lin instantly extinguished his cigarette and opened his door, darting up and saluting the Agency's head.

The big man laughed "At ease, agent. You could have finished your cigarette, our meeting is in 20 minutes, you had enough time."

Lin allowed himself a smile "I cannot in good conscious smoke before you, Comrade."
the director waved his guards away "Nonsense. Can I?" he pointed towards the car."
"By all means." the agent hastily agreed, Chunwang walked around the vehicle and popped in the side door signaling to the surprised Lin to join him.
"Can we drive somewhere else, agent?" the big man smiled
"Sure, where?"
"Just drive, no particular direction. I want to talk to you without praying ears around." Lin just nodded, started the engine and the car rolled into a start "Agent Lin, I heard about your adventure in Kazakhstan. I can't say I can condone it officially, that would be a lie. The agency is officially appalled at your activities. But here's the thing, I lead the agency and I am impressed with your quick thinking. Officially, I have to stick you into another dead-beat assignment, to avoid any more incidents, but I checked your record and I found some interesting things. The reason you were assigned to Kazakhstan in the first place is quite dodgy. Do enlighten me, why was that?"

Lin was surprised, but he kept his eyes on the road "I cannot in good conscious, comrade, as it will imply disloyalty of one of my comrades. Which I cannot in any way imply or suggest."

Chunwang's smile grew wider "Just as I thought." he opened the glove compartment and pulled out Lin's cigarettes. "Can I?" he asked, the agent nodded. "Here is what is going to happen, Agent, as you have noticed yourself, the situation is slowly escalating, the Politburo is feeling paranoid and we need to secure our interests abroad. You helped plug a gap in our intelligence network, but at the same time you shot up a neighborhood in Kazakhstan. This leaves me in the situation where I cannot exile you, but I cannot assign you to the home office either. The agency didn't really need you to observe the Second Artillery, I needed to meet you personally. Now that I have, I think I like you, so I am going to give you a chance. Stop here. " he pointed towards a fork in the road. As Lin was stopping the director produced a small folder the Agent hadn't noticed he was holding previously and threw it in the man's lap.

"Your next assignment is in there. " Lin was a bit overwhelmed.

"This is big."
"It is. I am making a gamble on you, Agent."
"I will not disappoint you, Comrade Chunwang."
Jia Chunwang smiled with that reassuring fatherly smile again "I know."


***

"The President of the United States of America has announced that additional ships will be ordered into the region, increasing the overall presence of the United States of America in the pacific, staging the biggest display of American military might in Asia since the Vietnam War. Beijing has sharply criticized American conduct in what analysts are calling the "Third Taiwan Strait Crisis", warning that this could cause further deterioration of relations between the two powers..."

###

[TheVulgarBulgar]

All comments are mandatory!

But I am a sign, not your mom or the police, so yeah. Warning, could include some violence.

###

The Game Begins.

Mark was staring at the window, his eyes were tired, even in the reflection of the window the redness of his eyes was apparent. His dark skin was covered with tiny drops of sweat, the heat was making him terribly itchy. His expensive shirt was half inside his pants, half out, and his pants had a tear on the leg. He turned back to Vlad who was still sitting on the bed, checking a pistol.

"Nice fucking job, Vladislav..." Sanchez knew the Russian hated someone saying his full name "...Nice motherfucking job. We are now in a middle of a warzone you piece of shit."

"Shut the fuck up Mark." Vlad spat back as he slid the magazine back in the gun "We need to get to the embassy."

"Half of downtown Baghdad is a shooting gallery, and you want us to run to the office..."
"Yes. Its 7 kilometers away at worst...." Vlad interrupted the American, who responded by interrupting him in kind
"And it goes directly through the fighting, you fucking..." he quickly closed his mouth as Vlad pointed the gun at his face.

"You either keep your mouth shut and go with me so I can keep you alive, or I shoot you because you are a fucking liability standing here yelling at me."
Sanchez' flailing hands instantly shot up "wow wow, ok dude, fine. When did you turn into a mafia enforcer..."

"Open the locker over there..." Vlad said without answering the question "...in the right hand side, below the clothes, you will see a little creek that is sealed with gum. Pull it open." Mark listened, he opened the old wooden door, which was rotted on the inside. He pushed the pile of clothes away. If he had done that earlier, he wouldn't have noticed anything, but now that Vlad told him, he could barely see the little creek. He stuck his fingers in what he hoped was really gum, and pried it open. Inside, he saw two more guns and several magazines.

"How the fuck did you get that into Iraq?"
"The Embassy got it in for me." Mark stopped examining the guns and looked back into the blue eyes of the Russian. The Makarov the Russian was holding was an exhibit piece, brought because they were friends with Ayman Sabawi, who was probably dead by now, he was initially surprised that Vlad was allowed to bring in bullets for it as well. But now he realized that Vlad was not allowed to bring in bullets for that weapon, same as the other two pistols. Something dawned on him.

"Who are you?" he asked almost terrified. He felt that the whole story Vlad had been feeding him about himself so far was falling apart. He had claimed he was the son of the local governor.

"Vladislav Kovalenkov, your friend and your only ticket out of here, that's all you need to know. Now take the smaller one of the guns and give me the other one." he stood up and put the Makarov in his pocket. Mark complied and passed him one of the heavy guns. He kept the other one and remained silent as Vlad opened the door with his own weapon pointed forward. It was large and unwieldy for Mark, but the Russian was handling it with ease, he had a comparatively much smaller weapon, but he realized there was a reason behind it. He knew what the guns were here for, he realized that Vlad had expected this and a nasty feeling was catching up to him as he realized he had been played. But he kept his mouth shut, he wanted to live now, if he survived he will just part ways with this insane Russian and move on with his life.

Vlad was already halfway down the hall, the sounds of explosions form the outside were shaking the hotel, the hall was entirely emptied out, people had either left their rooms or had barricaded themselves inside. Vlad had insisted that they stay in the hotel while the initial panic wears off, so they can more easily navigate the streets. The news that Saddam Hussain was shot had been broadcast about a week ago, since then all authority had collapsed. The radio broadcasts of patriotic songs was constant, broke up by each of Saddam's two sons proclaiming himself Saddam's heir. The bombing started a few days ago, Mark was unsure which side was bombing which and what was happening. His hotel's window was staring towards the Tigris river, so he could only see the distant fighting on the other side of the river. As Sanchez followed the Russian down the hall, he looked out of the broken window staring back at the Zawra stadium, he could see thick columns of smoke from the direction both of them were supposed to move towards. Kovalenkov grabbed him and pulled him down

"Stay below the windows, there are probably snipers outside." Vlad huffed and kept moving forward, pointing his gun in the direction he was going. He called the elevator, as a shell rattled the chandelier above both of them. They climbed into the Soviet built elevator, the marble floors of the hall gave way to linoleum inside the elevator. The linoleum was old and torn up, with holes in it from everything from cigarettes to just plain vandalism. A shell hitting somewhere near made the elevator shake as it was going down the floors. This thing was possibly built by three soviet workers with flip flops in the 50s, for a moment Mark thought this was where they were going to die. Then they reached the ground floor and he wished that they had indeed died in that elevator.

"Whatever happens, stay behind me. Don't help anyone or touch anything." The Russian said quickly as he rolled out into the foyer which was broken up by bullet holes and dead bodies. They crossed over several bodies as Vlad headed towards the back exit, Mark belatedly judged that to be a good decision as he realized that whoever had shot up these people might still be outside. As they left the competitively cool entrance and walked into the swelthering heat outside, Sanchez couldn't help but notice "Its so quiet."

"Yeah..." Vlad quietly answered, the sounds of gunfights filling the background somewhere in the distance, like thunder. "we need to move." he said after a minute and started walking slowly, gun still pointed forward. He ran from one obstacle to another, trying to maintain cover. Whatever cars were still around, were with blown tires or engines, they could still drive though.

"Why not get a car?"
"We will get shot at instantly."

The rest of the walk around the stadium was in silence, as Kovalenkov looked carefully for anything that might threaten both of them. Then he froze and cursed in Russian. "They are fighting for the Baghdad Station..." he pointed towards a thick column of smoke that was slowly rising from where the railway station was supposed to be.

"There's an airport over here..." the Russian's hand moved right, pointing towards a large opening "...its a military airport. It probably has a barracks, so depending on who they declared in support of, the other side is probably trying to take them out. The railway is a good forward location. The other side is probably coming from there..." he pointed leftwards, away from the Baghdad Station "...there is a hospital there... Karam or Karama or some shit, I can hear the gunshots. You know what's the problem?"

"We are going to have to pass through all of this, don't we?"

"Smart man."
"I swear to god Vlad. You got us into this, you get us the fuck out."

Vlad's steel blue eyes stared directly into Mark's soul. "I will." he said through his teeth and started moving. Sanchez didn't feel how quickly time passed as they slowly crept through the streets, but before he knew it, the explosions and shots were getting closer. Vlad was noticeably tense as several shells landed particularly close to their position. Then he suddenly froze and pulled Mark into one of the buildings' entrances. They both heard men conversing in Arabic and Sanchez felt the tingle of fear. Being an investor and a businessmen, he was a tad bid sociopathic, but even he was fearful in the face of death.

The Russian put his finger on his lips and aimed his pistol towards the corner of the entrance. His other hand grabbed Sanchez by the arm to keep him close. The American tried to aim his own pistol forward, hoping he didn't have to use it. The sound of Arabic was drawing close, the men were pretty loud and sounded angry. Mark looked at Vlad, who slowly released him and pulled two fingers in the air, the american understood. Then Vlad held his hand out and pointed his thumb to the ground. Mark wished he hadn't understood what the Russian wanted him to do.

As the voices neared the doorway, the Russian gripped his pistol tightly. A moment later, two boys in berates walked in front of the doorway and froze. Their brown eyes stared into the guns aiming at them. Mark saw Vlad was hesitating so he used the moment to slowly say "Salam", the only word he knew in arabic, meaning peace. The boys remained frozen, their weapons on their backs, they were no soldiers. "Salam" Mark repeated. Vlad pointed at the guns on their backs and motioned for them to to drop them. They complied. Mark put his finger on his lips as Vlad motioned to them to move forward.

"Ivan" he pointed to himself "Martin" he pointed to the American, for a second Mark looked at him confused but realized that perhaps giving them their real names was not a good idea. One of the boys slowly whispered "A-amerikan?" to which Vlad only nodded. It was too much to hope for one of them knowing English. Vladislav was already going through the pockets of their vests. He pulled out a piece of paper and smiled widely

"Karta" he said in Russian.
"Shiiieet" Mark smiled as well, he couldn't believe his luck. Before he could say anything, the Russian pulled his pistol out and two shots rang out through the hallway.
"WHAT THE FUCK" Sanchez yelled back, the boys' heads were pretty much gone. "WHY DID YOU THAT"
"What were you going to do with two local fighters, you moron? Drag them around with us? Or leave them here so they can shoot at us from the back or report us?"
"Jesus Christ..."
"Shut up and walk, before they send more people down here."

They kept walking, with gunfire drawing near, Mark could only hope the Russian knew what he was doing, as they walked through narrow alleys and streets. The shelling was also already on top of them, the streets all around them were exploding as they ran through, hoping no stray shell landed on their heads. Mark realized they were walking through the places that were being actively shelled because no Iraqi would be insane enough to be here. Meanwhile, all around the echoes of gunfire were filing the air like a thick blanket of rolling thunder. Vlad pulled Mark into one building, then out of the other entrance, the sounds and smells, the constant movement and the pain in his legs all merged into a surrealistic loud combination of colors and sounds. He could barely comprehend what was happening as he was pushed to a wall and bullets ricocheted nearby, he barely understood what was happening as the Russian was right next to him, shooting. He hadn't realized he had a fear of blood up to this point, as he was slowly loosing conscience in the hell around him.

He could only respond to simple commands, so when the Russian yelled "Move" he just stood up on the broken up street and stumbled after Vlad who was shooting at something. He was thrown into something that resembled a forest and he realized, with his slow and confused mind, that they were in a park. Bullets were ricocheting around him, his instinct for self preservation was driving him to run forward, even though it all look the same, bushes and rocks, some trees and a swearing Russian who was shooting back at the people chasing them. Eventually, he was dragged out of the park and noticed they were on some sort of a square. He kept on running, as they swiveled around what looked like a hospital. The shooting was everywhere now, people were firing from all sides, it was like everyone and their grandmother had AKs. Then he saw the Russian flag flying above a building and he smiled, but his energy was gone, all Mark could do was collapse.

***

His shoes stepped firmly on the rocky mountain road that was winding through the valley. He had carried many names, had been many people, first to escape Iraq, later to gain favors with the Iranians and to advance within the Shia community abroad. He fought for years, first he fought to escape the horror that was Iraq, then he fought to be accepted in Iran, within his own religious brethren. He always believed that once he was home, he will finally be free to be himself, but as he walked towards the giant crowed of soldiers assembled in the pass to listen to his speech, he realized that his body and soul belonged to the people and Allah.

His long white dress was flowing in the wind as he walked towards the hastily erected podium that was raised for him. His face was covered, as the winds blew dust forwards. Unlike the coward Saddam or his sons, he didn't use doubles, it was only him and his people. If god had decided that it was his time to go, it was going to happen, he didn't worry himself with doubles. As he stepped onto the podium, a smile covered his face, he removed the cover so he could clearly speak to the men before him. His eyes looked around the crowd, as the men cheered, the olive-green helmets looted form the Iraqi army, the berates and the miss-match of various different uniforms all combined into a sea of men. Even inside this sea, he could still clearly make out a few of the Iranian men that were unofficially commanding the forces and helping his men get in shape.

He lift his hands in the air and slowly the yelling men quieted down. The man of many names' voice thundered over them
"Brothers!" he yelled "The serpent is dead!"
Their thunderous choirs filled the air again, but his hands in the air quieted them once more.
"We move! Recapturing our homeland! We will no longer be oppressed by our enemies, no longer be pawns in the games of dictators. The Islamic Republic of Iraq will prosper once more. Below us, stands the city of Al-Basra, it will be rid of the enemies of our Republic and purified. Today, we take Basra, tomorrow, we take Baghdad!

TAKBIR!"

A thunderous roar responded "Allahu Akbar!"

He realized that they were still pawns in the game of nations, but perhaps the Islamic Republic would be allowed enough leeway to carve its own destiny. Perhaps even, he can stop the slaughters of his own people. He had no interest in preserving the lives of the Sunnis though.

###

[TheVulgarBulgar]

AIIB and other giant infrastructural projects are coming into play sooner, now that shit is hitting the fan. China needs friends and is willing to pay for them. (sorry for the big map)

###

A Dragon in the Woods

"Fucking pig" Lin spat as he kicked the Burmese soldier in the thigh. The soldier's head almost came off as he instantly turned towards the Chinese with an angry stare, then he froze. The Tatmadaw (Military) usually had little reach over these areas, and the Na Sa Kha (Auxiliaries) was the one that laid down the law, unfortunately all too often the Na Sa Kha dispensed its own laws, creating its own local power structures. The Burmese commander stood up instantly and hastily saluted the Chinese.

"You the Bogyoke (Officer) here?" As the words were translated, the Soldier hastily nodded "I am here on behalf of the State Law and Order Restoration Council and the Tatmadaw. Your unit will be brought under the wing of the military, and these boys..." he pointed at the two giant shaved Burmese men "...are here to take arrest you."

As expected, the local officer tried to run, but all the entrances of the small mud hut were barred with guards, who instantly caught the man trying to escape. The giant Bogyoke who was standing next to Lin signaled something in whatever language he spoke to the men around him, they turned to the agent in broken Mandarin.

"We execute him."
This surprised Lin who looked back into what he smugly called the "ape" with confusion "Wont you sent him back to the headquarters for trial?"
The Bogyoke, bemusingly explained "Capital? We are far. No roads. Must send convoy, costs..." he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, the international symbol for money "...much easier do it here."

The agent remained silent for a bit before pulling out a cigarette out of his forward pocket. He carried several packs of his favorite Balkan made cigarettes, but he didn't use them, he mainly kept them around to trade for favors with the locals and the soldiers, as they didn't have access to anything like that. For personal use, he had to go with some local variety. Lin could never get rid of that smug sense of superiority, he could never grasp the complexity of the people around him, so he boiled down the Burmese and their struggles and daily lives to a simple word, barbaric. He thought the same about their cigarettes.

As Lin stepped out of the hut, a gunshot pierced the silence of the forest. He lit his cigarette and looked upon the trees. Soon enough, there was going to be a highway passing through here, transporting goods and through it, China will dominate this land. The Burmese government was desperate as it was further isolated, they were ready to sell their soul, and China was more then a willing to buy it. The agent realized these lands were rich and their people poor, but his empathy was left on the other side of the border, for he was here not as a care-worker or a nurse, but as an enforcer of the interests of the People's Republic.

The Tatmadaw had been a willing helper, with the Sa Ya Pa (Security Services) quickly ratting out those Na Sa Kha commanders who were conducting illegal activities along the path of China's planned highway expansion. They were quickly cleaned up, the locals will probably be drafted into the military to help built the road. Of course, unlike the Tatmadaw, China will pay those people handsomely for their service, and they will eventually be relocated. With the exploding financial crisis in Asia, thanks to a lot of businesses moving to Eastern Europe and a collapse of the stock markets over the region, a lot of countries were looking to the elephant in the room. Chinese money and assistance could help weather the storm, especially for weak economies like Burma, Laos and the like. Moreover, Lin's success in paving the way for Myanmar to be pulled towards the Chinese sphere will be appreciated by the MSS and its command staff.

All of this is going to...inconvenience, some of Myanmar's rebel populations. Lin himself was present as the a large military unit marched into a village, which had suspected rebels in it, and just burned the whole place down with the people inside it. He refused to sanction any of these activities, but he had no authority to stop it, so he just stood as far away as possible as the Burmese murdered and later buried the bodies of the people who had suffered "an incident". It was shit like this that shook his fate that he was on the right side of the barricade, but he fought that feeling, self doubt was the last he needed now, he was here to prove himself and the Agency was testing him, so he had to show that he was capable.

And once he was finished here, he would fly back to Beijing, with a brand new reputation and a position befitting his capabilities.

###

Vladislav Kovalenkov, in a funny twist of events, was his actual name and not some sort of a fake name he used for the operation. The Russian believed that a man's name was his marker in life. He was not adverse to using fake names, of course, but in case he did he always used short nicknames, never an actual full name. It was something weird his colleagues always found amusing.

An interesting fact about both Russian intelligence agencies like the GRU and FSB was that their staff agents were never sent on the field, they were analysts and political officers, but never field agents. Both of the organizations however, had a Specnaz (special forces) detachment that was used in case of an emergency or if the agencies needed to send someone out to do something really really dangerous and stupid. Like, for example, shoot Iran's Ayatollah. Of course, Russia would never do anything like that.

Destroying military hardware that was smuggled out of Russia and into Iraq however? That was another story. Vladislav had this operation all planned out, the operation was going to be quick and clean and the weapons were going to be destroyed. And then Saddam, that fucker, had to get shot. Now he was stuck babysitting a squeamish american in the middle of a bubbling warzone. He could just ditch Mark and keep moving on his own, but something stopped him from abandoning the American. Perhaps it was a sense of a honor, or even friendship. Whatever it was, he was stuck with it.

As they reached the embassy, the agent realized what he had feared all along. The place was under siege, the building filled with friendly Iraqi contractors, while the outside was swarming with warriors belonging to the various Iraq factions fighting for control over the city. Getting into the embassy, with the american in tow was hard, but once in, they all found themselves in the middle of an even stickier situation.

Vladislav walked in, Mark on his shoulders, the ground floor was filled to the brink with people, most of them were Iraqis, but a few Russians, possibly business owners and advisers were there as well. He pushed through the crowd and walked up to the central marble stairs, guarded by a few of the local Iraqi guards keeping the crowd at bay. "Sorry..." one of them started in very bad English "... we cannot let you go up."

"Tell the Ambassador Vladislav Kovalenkov is here. He will want to see me."

Two of the guards shared a confused look and one of them nodded, he turned around and quickly ran up the stairs. Vladislav, who was holding the lifeless body of the American, slowly let the man down on a chair that was freed especially for him. Medical staff quickly swarmed around Mark.

"Follow me." the guard said, returning. Vlad threw a quick look at the American and left him there at the care of the medics. The Russian briskly climbed the stairs after the Iraqi man. A large wooden door at the end of the hallway on the second floor, opened to reveal the ambassador and a few of the advisers all huddled around a small wooden table, they were deshaven, their suits messy and there was a horrible stench about.

"Mr Kovalenkov..." the ambassador said without looking up "...I am happy you are here. We must prepare...."

###

[TheVulgarBulgar]

###

The fire in the desert

The helicopter was shaking as it flew low over the rocky earth.

"We have established contact with a specnaz operative on the ground. Codename Cherepah."

"A single Specnaz? Why in Iraq"

"GRU."

For a moment, silence engulfed the cabin, the helicopter's rotors' thundering filled the ears of both men.

"That motherfucker probably shot Saddam himself." the gunner said as he looked out of the Hind's window.

"You think?" the pilot responded almost absentmindedly.

"I dunno man. Its the fucking GRU..." The men belong to the FSB, one of the federal agencies in Russia. The GRU (military intelligence) and FSB (Federal Security Bureau) had been set up in such a way, ever since their inception,
to force an internal competition between them as much as they competed with outside agencies. The men working in both the GRU and the FSB hated their guts, feared each other and during Communism there were a few cases where agents from one organization ratted out and ultimately caused the deaths of agents from the other. But even in this fierce field of competition, there was a certain level of respect the FSB agents had towards the GRU. There was no denying the latter organization was indeed an elite.

"Well, Cherepah will be calling the shots for this operation."
"Yeah. Genshtab decided a random GRU agent on the ground is going to better asses the situation then two helicopters filled to the brink with FSB."

"Filled with wisdom are the General Staff's decision." the gunner snorted as they shared a quick laugh. The giant helicopter shuttered as its blades blew dust in the air. The Hind was made for operations exactly like this one, deploying troops while providing heavy air support. It was a large vehicle and the Russian air-force was particularly proud of it, for good reason. It was also well protected.

"Cherepah, this is Sokol One" the voice of the gunner filled the airwaves. "Can you hear me, over?"

Another, deeper voice responded "Cherepah here. Loud and clear, over."
"We are inbound on your position. T minus 5 minutes. Over."
"Understood. I will provide coordinates. Requesting fire support. Over."

The gunner's gloved finger clicked the mute button "Does he want us to fire on the locals. What the hell?"
"He is the boss, man, take his coordinates."
"Jesus..." his finger flicked the mute back off "Ready for coordinates, over."

As Cherepah's deep voice read them out, the gunner slowly realized those were a couple of buildings around the embassy. His finger was back on the mute button again.
"This asshole wants us to level the buildings around the embassy"
"Lets just hope he knows what he is doing."
He flicked the button again "Roger that. Over"

###

Udey Hussain pulled out a cigar from the elaborately decorated wooden box sitting on the desk. The beautiful marble flooring of the palace was stained with blood. All around him, his loyalists were securing the rooms one by one. Qusay had ditched the palace quickly after he found out Saddam was dead and moved to Al-Ramadi where he set up headquarters. Uday was angry that 60% of the Republican Guard had declared for his brother, but the traitors were going to be killed anyways. Those who had remained loyal to Uday were now around him and he was sure he was going to secure Baghdad, even if the city had forced from all sides present in it and was still in chaos. That motherfucker Ali had declared himself President from Mosul as well, everything was going to hell in a hand-basket.

But Uday was happy, he was sure he was going to win this. He always won. Anything he wanted he took for himself. His black uniform was well tailored and perfectly clean, he had no reason to get dirty, his boys did all the work.

Unfortunately, while all of this was happening, Uday made a critical miscalculation. He decided that taking the Russian embassy hostage was going to give him a card against the west. Taking the American one was going to be too hard to bother and any other embassy was useless. The Russians, in his mind, were both too weak to intervene as he thought, and important enough for NATO to negotiate.

What he didn't realize was that America was not going to negotiate, and Russia was definitely not going to roll over. As he put the cigar in his mouth, clasping it with his teeth and pulling a large metal lighter, he stopped himself short of lighting it. One of his men had ran into the room, he looked worried and the security detail had let him through.

"What is it Malik?"
The man gulped for a second and looked around, then he said in a rushed voice "The Russians, sir, they are attacking the garrison around the embassy."

The cigar fell from Uday's mouth "What?!"
"Helicopters, sir, two of them."
"WHERE ARE THE AIRFORCES" Uday screamed at the man
"Very few declared for us, sir, and the rest blew most of the equipment."
"Fucking... GET ME RAHIM ON THE LINE"

###

The lead Mil Mi-24 shuddered as the frontal cannon opened fire. The 30 mm caliber bullets burst into the former Bank that served as the headquarters of the soldiers who had surrounded the embassy. From his vantage point, the pilot could see the bullets crushing through walls, bursting into rooms and trails of blood being spat about as his gunner relentlessly pounded the building.

"RPG!" Someone yelled on the comms, forcing the pilot to jerk the vehicle leftwards to avoid the missile that flew right by the helicopter. He thanked all that is holy that it wasn't a stinger or they would be dust and yelled in response in his own communications system "CHEREPAH, REPORT, ARE YOU SEEING STINGERS FROM YOUR POSITION, OVER."

Fuck fuck fuck, he swore to himself, he should have checked sooner, shit like this could get you killed Andrei. The GRU agent's voice came back to him "Negative, no Stingers. Few RPGs on the building by the Bahraini Embassy. Confirm, over."

"Confirmed." the pilot continued a bit more calmly as he swiveled his helicopter around. The second Hind was already landing next to the pool in the Russian embassy that was emptied a long time ago, the courtyard was filled with various people but they were being held back by the local Iraqi guards payed off to guard the embassy. The pilot made a mental note to himself on the number of people down there and realized both helicopters won't be enough.

"Russian citizens only" he was reminded by the voice of the ambassador on the comms. "...and the Iraq guards." He didn't have time to consider it, as he dodged a second missile swearing.

"Ivan, i'll swivel around, you put some rounds into that fucker" he yelled to his gunner, as the man sprayed rounds over various buildings who were attempting to exchange fire with the Hind. A few moments later they could see the Bahraini Embassy and the rooftop of the building next to it was crawling with men. The helicopter shuddered again as the big gun at the front opened fire, leaving dust and smoke where the building once stood. "Confirmed. Great shot."

"Ambassador, Advisers, Agent and an several civilians all on board. Sokol 2 two lifting off to provide fire support."

###

Mark had been up for a few hours. He had grasped the situation and was ready for the rescue, what he wasn't told was that there would be only two helicopters for all of the people in the embassy. After they climbed into the first helo, he shook Kovalenkov "You can't leave these people!"

"The second helicopter will pick some of them up."
"Vlad, I may be a cowered, but I am not dumb. I know that helicopter is not enough to take all of them."
the Agent stiffened, he didn't say anything but shook his head. Sanchez was angry, he turned to the ambassador who was just staring at the destruction below him. "Ambassador! You are going to allow this?!"

The man looked back at him with confusion, he shook his head as well and looked back through he small window provided on the side of the aircraft.
"Motherfucker" Mark screamed as he jumped out of his seat and slapped the Ambassador, Kovalenkov managing to grab him just before one of the guards pulled out a gun and pointed it at American.

"Listen, Sanchez, you are lucky I got these assholes to take you. We can't do shit for the locals. We are here to save Russian citizens, that's all."

The American wanted to respond, he was angry, he wanted to say something, but he felt powerless. He himself looked out of the window, he felt the helicopter shudder a few more times as it spit out rounds at various buildings around the embassy. Then Sokol one, which was on the ground in the embassy, lift off and he caught a glimpse of the people remaining in the embassy. Their faces, twisted in horror and pain, etched itself in his mind as the helicopters sped outside of the town. The tops of the buildings underneath turned into rock and then desert.

"Next stop, Jordan." the Ambassador said with a smile, which Mark found disgusting.

###

[TheVulgarBulgar]

Coat of arms of the SCO

###

The thunder in the mountains

Dr Khan's car was stuck in the often chaotic traffic of Islamabad, he hated this part of the visits to the capital, as he had to spend a while in the hectic traffic of the capital and often argue with stubborn military officials and various other government employees.

The car, at least, was nice. It was given to him by the government, they had insisted that he has a driver who also served as a guard, but after a lot of arguing Dr Khan has managed to get at least that peace and quiet for himself, government be damned.

The Nuclear Program was pulling ahead and he personally was responsible for a great part of its successes, his eyes were locked on the dark thunderous clouds hanging over the city. They were a weird occurrence in such a day.

He saw two traffic cops walking in between cars, as the radio blared about massive growth all over the developing world, the reviving of the East African Community and political instability in Thailand following the Asian Economic Crisis. What caught his attention was that China has stepped in, helping develop countries like Cambodia, Myanmar and Laos.

One of the cops knocking on his window pulled Dr Khan out of his thoughts. He slowly rolled down the window and looked at the man.

"How can I help you?" the doctor said, the man stared at him intently.

"ID?" He said. Khan found it weird, but complied, he pulled his special ID slip and handed it to the man. A sudden grin filled the man's face as he instantly pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the doctor. Before he could say anything, a shot rang out and the darkness engulfed Khan.


***

"We have to go to Sudan." Vlad said sternly as the FSB commander took another pull from the cigarette he was smoking.
"I can't just force my men back in a fight, especially without..."
"We are talking about chemical weapons that are planned to be used against our biggest ally. And we are the closest one to this... I thought the FSB thought itself superior to the GRU. A GRU Specnaz will not run away form a fight..." Vlad spat, the commander stared at him directly.
"You fucker..."

Before the situation could escalate, the Ambassador's voice came from the entrance of the hangar "Break it up boys." he yelled as he walked to both of them "I have the Defense minister on the phone, you boys are going to Sudan. I can't stress how imperative it is to keep this under wraps. If the Americans found out we sold Chemical Weapons to some random douche-bag who plans to use it against them there will be hell to pay."

The Specnaz commander stared back at Kovalenkov. Who grinned in return.

"The FSB will command this operation." Kovalenkov's smile disappeared. "The defense minister is not happy with the number of casualties of the Iraqi operation, Vladislav. The GRU will probably want to have a word with you."



***


Lin's trip back home was uneventful. He had pushed the images of what he had seen the Tatmadaw do to the back of his head, he rested. He had seen a lot more then the execution of a few asshole commanders, he saw expulsions of villagers and death on a large scale.

But all of that was behind him now. He was flying home to a beautiful and hopefully calm trip. He had noticed a lot of activities around the airport as he arrived on Beijing. A lot of young men in uniforms. That seemed unusual for Beijing.

As he walked to the car that was provided to him by the MSA, he found a man in a suit waiting for him.

"Good morning, Comrade Yu-Huan Lin" the man started with a wide smile. "I am one of Comrade Jia's assistant, I am here to escort you." Lin was surprised by what the man said and he smiled back.

"Thank you Comrade. Your services would not be needed." The man's smile however remained unwavering.

"I am sorry Agent Lin, for the duration of the emergency, I will have to join you."

Lin stared at the man with an empty smile for a moment, before finally asking "Emergency?"

"A crisis has erupted in Cashmere."

Lin walked around and sat on the seat next to the driver, he waved the man in. "Explain and drive."

"Our military was conducting operations behind enemy lines in the Cashmere valley. We were trying to strengthen our positions relative to the other two sides in the conflict." Lin pulled out a cigarette, signaling to the driver to continue as he lit it "Dr. Khan, widely known as Pakistan's main contributor to the nuclear program, was shot a few days ago, by Indian commandos, the Agency thinks that this is as a response to our activities. The Pakistani Nuclear program has taken a hit and now India is mobilizing forces. They have won several battles in Cashmere, they were very small-scale, just a few outposts, but that was enough for our military to say its a defeat. You know how proud the People's Liberation Army is, Comrade." Lin only nodded "This is leading to cooperation between us and Pakistan. We have nuclear scientists, we have technology and materials, they have the troops, contacts and positions. The new leadership in the Party is going to sign an alliance with Pakistan soon."

The red tip of the Agent's cigarette darted up and then down, as he took another pull. He exhaled, thinking it through, and then he looked at the driver "So we are going to be allies of Pakistan. What a development. What about Iran?"

"The party got Pakistan to agree to a compromise with Iran on Afghanistan. And that is why you are important here, Comrade." the man said as he pointed towards the glove compartment of the vehicle. "Open it."

Lin complied, he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a file. "This is Abdul Haq. The ISI are keeping him secure in Pakistan. VAJA agents will be joining you as well. Stay close to him, we will need him in the months to come."


***

"...with the signing of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation between the Foreign Ministers of the People's Republic of China, the Islamic Republic of Iran and the Islamic Republic of Pakistan the new political block, long in the making has finally been formalized. Days later, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Burma, and Cambodia's Foreign Ministers signed the alliance's charter, making them members of the new agreement. With NATO's expansion east, this agreement is seen as being in direct competition with western interests. Following the Third Taiwan Strait Crisis, the destabilization of East Asia caused by the 1996 Asian Financial Crisis due to many manufacturing businesses moving shop in eastern Europe, China's aid and assistance has seen it steadily expand its power block over Asia, with Malaysia, Turkmenistan, Azerbaijan, Libya and the revived (with Chinese help) East African Community all showing interest in aligning with the new block.

This has, in turn drawn massive criticism from the west, with President Clinton saying "A second iron curtain is descending on Asia and Africa..." with many analysts calling it the "Silk Curtain" due to China being less concentrated on ideological purity and hard power then on stability and soft power, with economic investments fueling growth all over the world. The competition of investments between the United States and Russia on one side and China and Iran, analysts warn, has lead to yet another arms race and a Second Cold War, so quickly after the first one ended..."

###

[TheVulgarBulgar]

###




There is a reason why people were infatuated with the Nile for over centuries, Vlad thought as the helicopter flew very near the water of the river. It was early morning, the few boats and river ships were floating calmly. Several people poked their heads out as the helicopters flew past and then quickly returned where they were.

Vlad felt unease as he saw the outlines of Khartoum, the city was quiet as was expected in the early morning. But almost instantly he saw movement on the ground. "You saw that." he said in his headset and saw one of the pilots nod.

"They know we are here."

"Sir, confirm restricted FOB?" Sokol two's voice came through the intercom. Kovalenkov looked at the pilot who hesitated for a second.

"Restrict fire around the airport. Try and keep civilians alive. No restrictions otherwise." he said in an almost resigned tone. Minutes later a shrieking noise of an alarm filled the cockpit.

"STINGERS" the second pilot yelled as the helicopter swiveled rightwards. The sparkling lights of the countermeasures were reflecting in the river below "Keep to the right bank! Avoid the inhabited areas!" the pilot yelled again as Vlad saw Sokol two fly underneath them and emerge on the left. Another few missiles flew right between the two helicopters, the gunner directed the machine gun to the building from which the last stinger's trail started. The Hind shuddered as the weapon fired a series of rounds into the building, leaving only smoke and dust where the rooftop used to be.

"Sir, Al-Shifa Pharmaceutical Factory in sight!" Sokol Two called out on the intercom.
"Alright everyone, I want you out in under 30 seconds as we land."

Vlad walked back to his seat, checking his gun. He felt the helicopter descent quickly and shortly afterwards, the doors slid open. The soldiers jumped out and the helicopters flew up almost instantly. As Vlad pointed his weapon towards all corners of the rooftop to confirm there is nobody around, he heard the Hind's gun stutter to life above him.

"GAS MASKS ON!"

"MOVE" he yelled. In the air, the pilot commanded, but here, he was the boss. The men instantly snapped into movement, one kicked the closest shaft's entrance in, another rolled a flash-bang inside. As the flash bang exploded they slid through the small opening. Vlad was third, he saw the man below him fall to the ground and roll forward, he landed on his feet and rolled sideways then aimed his gun rightwards. A shadowy clocked figure tried to jump towards cover, but Vlad fired several rounds in the figure, causing it to collapse.

"CONTACT" he yelled "TARGET DOWN."
"CONTACT" he heard another of his men yell as unleashed a burst on yet another figure.

"Spread to cover." Vlad ordered as he slid forward to a large pile of powder. He could hear his breath in his ears due to the gas mask. Bursts were coming from all over the building now, so Vlad was having a hard time tracking his men. The lights were off, and the place was big. Vlad noticed a power switch somewhere on the side, with the bullets ricocheting around him he yelled "COVER ME" and ran for it as soon as the firing stopped. He heard the bullets bounce around him but then he heard bursts form his own boys which quickly silenced whoever was firing at him. He jumped over the cover right in-front of the light switch only to see a man with a gun hiding there. Instinctively he grabbed the man before he can fire at him and pulled him close to his body, putting a newly drawn pistol to the head of the man.

"I HAVE A HOSTAGE" he yelled, the bearded man was yelling something in Arabic which made Vlad push the gun to his head even more. "SHUT THE FUCK UP". Kovalenkov smashed the switch with his elbow and the whole room lit up. The firing was already dying down. A fair percentage of the enemy was dead, those alive were aiming at the agent, but not daring to shoot.

Someone spoke out in very bad English "Release."
Vlad yelled back at him "What's your name!?"
"A-a-abdul." the man continued nervously "Release."
"Where are the weapons, Abdul. You tell me that and I let you all out alive."
"You stop no. Jihad has begun."
"Lets try that again..." Vlad whispered to himself as he pushed the gun against the man's head again "...WHERE ARE THE WEAPONS."
"Ethiopia. America and Russia will horror. The great devils suffer."
"Fuck..." Vlad yelled out "Shoot him." instantly the room filled with the sound of gunfire as his men opened holes in the remaining jihadists' bodies. He was going to take the man he was holding with him.

"Blow this place sky high. Fedorov..." he yelled in the intercom "The weapons are in Ethiopia. Warn the government. We have to blow the whistle, we missed the guns."

"Motherfucker... hurry up with that place, we need to get the fuck out."

***

"...the American and Russian embassies in Ethiopia were hit with a massive chemical attack yesterday, prompting fears all over the world and leading to a tightening of security. More then 200 are presumed dead and many more wounded due to the attacks.

Al-Qaeda has claimed responsibility for the attack with its leader, Osama Bin Laden releasing a large statement, warning against the crusaders and infidels' involvement in the middle east. He has pointed towards the "great devils (America and Russia), the atheists and apostates (China and Iran) as responsible for this.

News are arriving that one of Osama's top commanders, however, Mohammed Atef Al-Masri, was captured in Khartoum after a Russian raid on the Al-Shifa pharmaceutical factory. Other members of Al-Qaeda, including the suspected masterminds of the operation, Sheikh Ahmed Salim Swedan and Khalfan Khamis Mohamed have perished in the fighting. The United States of America, the Russian Federation, the People's Republic of China and Islamic Republic of Iran have issued a joint deceleration, with the United Nations Security Council passing Resolution 1189 condemning the attacks on the embassies..."

###