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Post by elizar on Sept 6, 2008 21:25:53 GMT -5
Leroy went back to Fort Dock and in the radio room. "Tony, still there?" He looked inside to see him.
"Just finishing up here." Anthony said. "I went outside to take a gander at the arrivals. That cruiser is sure formidable."
"Frigate actually." Leroy picked up a pencil and paper and took a seat.
"Sorry sir, I haven't been in the army or the coast guard." Anthony apologized.
"It's okay. I found the Pave Hawk to be more intimidating than the Captain. I think her name was Marisa."
"Pave Hawk?"
"One of the helicopters."
"Alright." Anthony shrugged. "I guess that since you're here, you got a message to send."
"Yeah." Leroy handed the paper over to him. He had been a quick writer, and Anthony had worked in the office for long enough to understand his speed writing.
"Telling them of the nature of our new partners?" Anthony said as reading over the message, then began to tap the Morse code.
"Doesn't really hurt. And they need to know it sooner than later."
"Well, I sent the message." Anthony said and leaned back in the chair. "I can't really wait to get to bed. It's been crazy day. One more hour and it is time for nightshift."
Leroy looked at the Morse code readout. It was empty. "Aren't you supposed to get an acknowledge signal?"
Anthony looked back. "That's odd." He sat down again and sent few other messages, harmless pings used to determine a dead link if there was any. "All the links are silent. The problem is at our end."
Leroy crossed his arms. "It's too dark outside to find the break." He looked outside. "We will work on this tomorrow. I'll see you then."
Marisa stretched before lying down on a mattress laid out for her. "I kind of scared them." She said in a soft sad tone to Brett. "Why did I even do that?"
"Night Urqhart." Aron said to one of the pipes before going below. "Try not to rock the boat as much as you did during the storm."
Anthony sighed in relief as Leroy went out. It had been a huge risk, but hopefully it would work out. He had known for a long time about a certain operation, and when it was to be scheduled, but the arrivals of the trade partners had been most unfortunate. He wasn't quite happy about this plan, but it hadn't been thought up on the spot. The flawed broken down part he had replaced was that rare that they would have needed to requisitioned one back at Wellington. And when they would arrive there, it would be too late.
He looked at the broken down machine. Even though it was broken, regulations said that someone always had to man the station at all times. Couldn't have anyone trying to steal it. The next problem was obvious, but Anthony couldn't but help to hesitate. Wondering if he could really do it, and if he had the guts to, how would he do it.
He was there for some time until the doors opened, revealing the night shift. "Hey Tony." Tristan said.
"Hey Knight." Tony replied. "The radio seems to be broken down or something. I sent pings through all the links but no reply yet. Let me know if you get something." Anthony stood up, leaving Tristan behind with a book and a ever-silent now useless gizmo.
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Post by Evangeline on Sept 6, 2008 22:04:04 GMT -5
"Give them time to get used to you." Brett counselled, "And try to remember to keep your mouth closed. That's exactly what Robin and I went through fifteen years ago."
Mairi stopped and looked back as she overheard the conversation, or at least Marisa's end of it, and wondered what it must be like to have people too intimidated to even to talk to you.
"I'll try not to, Aron." There was a trace of a smirk in the frigate's voice.
sixty feet below the ocean's surface, a pair of US nuclear attack subs moved silently through the watery darkness, their sonar now fully deployed. The two, Capt. Joan Glendenning and Capt. Adam Krieger, could see underwater up to a point, but it was nothing compared to the pictures that sound gave them and their small onboard support/technical crews. At present, they were tracking the sea traffic - minimal as that was - going in and out of Wellington, just getting a feel for the place and what was normal, and engraving that into their memory. Then, with that as a reference, they would continue to sweep for anything anomalous. The pirates captured by the surface fleet had caused it to occur to the pair that there could be more than one out there...
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Post by elizar on Sept 7, 2008 13:59:33 GMT -5
Leroy was on his morning jog. It had become a part of his routine long time ago in order to lower his BP, along with change in diet. Now the jog, five miles minimum, had become such routine that he couldn't even think about skipping it. It allowed him to see the town just when it was waking up, and get to the markets when they opened. He had planned his route that he would finish at the market corner.
When he came back to the office, the first one to greet him was Anthony. "Leroy, riders went as soon as the sun came up, but came back saying that there was no break in the line."
"That isn't good." Leroy shook his head.
"Wells, I'm not the only one thinking this, but maybe it is our equipment. I want to take it apart and see what's wrong."
Leroy looked forward. "Alright. Since we can't really use it at the moment, do it." He said. "I guess I better tell Duran that there will be a slight delay."
"Okay then. Some of the local ranches have gotten back to us. List of culls and the like." Anthony said.
"And I better get it compiled to a list before getting back to Duran. I'll be in my office until I've finished."
Some distance away from New Zealand, still in international waters, there was an assortment of ships heading towards Wellington. The Admiral of the fleet Tawfiq Mujahid was standing on the bridge of the flagship, an old cruiser, which was still running, and most joked about that Allah himself had protected it. It had been used in few missions, but none of them involved the general resource gathering ones, which others regarded of as pirating. It was used when actual weapons were to be used. Even for the throw-back after the Yellowstone eruption, weapon manufacturing still continued. In fact, the industry had bloomed as people wanted the imaginary green grass on the other side of the borders. Most of Russia's power was used to manufacture parts for power plant maintainance, and the rest to manufacture weapons. They had made themselves a stable country with the weapon industry.
New Zealand had been a thorn in Middle-east side. They had agricultural balance at last, viable lifestock population, and were continually trying to find other oil markets. On the rumor that they were going to strike gold with Norway, it was decided to take action. The first wave, a distraction supplied by an attack on a coastal village near New Zealand's main supply of food was to be done. The village was not that well defended, and since it had been mostly ignored in previous raids, guarding for the food stocks had been reduced. Intelligence from New Zealand told that a post there was used as a form of punishment. Bored soldiers who wanted to be anywhere else but there. A raid there would distract the fleet and force some of the better ships to move out from Wellington, leaving it slightly less defended.
And if that didn't work, that's what the Surface to Surface missiles were used for.
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Post by Evangeline on Sept 7, 2008 14:30:19 GMT -5
"Tumbleweed 1," Joan heard her call sign, still appreciating the irony of using the name of a desert plant in the ocean. "We have what appears to be a fleet formation bearing on us at twenty-eight degrees."
"Confirm on that, Tumbleweed 2." Joan began to steer on an intercept course. After establishing the baseline situation, this was ringing alarm bells. "Looks like several heavy cruisers, and at least twenty smaller craft. Pretty ragtag, but they could do definitely do damage to a city. There's been no radio contact between them and the shore, so I'm assuming unfriendly."
Adam decided it was time to send a message to the surface fleet who had docked in Auckland...
Capt. Urqhart had heard that the ground communications were down, and something was twigging at his instincts that he felt it best not to ignore. After a brief "huddle" with the other ships, he sent a taurcat crew member down to the docks to inform the harbor chief, since his gut feelings told him that he shouldn't try radio to the office either.
Jessica waved to Mairi and Penelope as she entered the office, as yet unaware of anything going on.
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Post by elizar on Sept 7, 2008 15:16:10 GMT -5
"What is it Penelope?" Leroy said as she entered.
"There is one of those horse-cat things outside asking for you." She said slightly nervous. "The guards are bit on the edge since getting the pirates that they are not letting him in."
Leroy stood up with the documents he had been working on. "I guess Duran's too busy to drop by. I'll see the visitor outside." He walked outside of his office, taking up one of the apples he had bought at the market.
Aron began to notice some slight difference with Urqhart. He went to the bridge to see if anything was off. "Anything new now?"
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Post by Evangeline on Sept 7, 2008 16:25:36 GMT -5
"This is just in from the scout team." the frigate's tone had taken on a stattaco urgency. "They report a fleet formation coming within strike range of Wellington, under radio silence. If it appears to be an attack force, they're not going to let their torpedos just sit there."
Julian came bounding up. "I was just on the cards with Mother. She's got a squadron on hot standby."
Penelope could be excused for the gender confusion. Taurcats were rather flat-chested, as their primary mammaries were tucked between their rear legs. The girl was standing rather uneasily in the office as Leroy came out.
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Post by elizar on Sept 7, 2008 17:06:58 GMT -5
Leroy threw the half-eaten apple in the trash as it had a bitter taste that didn't go away after the first bite. He came outside to see the taurcat. He knew however that it was a she after Lazaro's explanation about the taurcats. "Did Duran send you?" He asked.
"Damn." Aron could only say. It took him a moment to realize the second thing that was off. "Why haven't we been asked to help with the defenses? Do they think we are part of it or anything?"
Tawfiq saw the coast form on the horizon, and gave the cue to start speed up. Once the coast guard ships assigned in the outer defense ring were in range, the loaded missiles in the battle cruiser were released. Within moments they struck two of the ships, missing the third.
"<Reload!>" Tawfiq called. "<Get ready for battle!>"
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Post by Evangeline on Sept 7, 2008 17:36:30 GMT -5
"We're too far away to be any help to Wellington ourselves." Julian said. "Unless I grab a horse or something that can run and hellride over. If I tell Mother, she's not going to wait."
"Captain has message." the taurcat answered in a thickly accented voice as she handed a slip of paper over to Leroy. "Not good news."
Having had all doubt removed, the subs, having already selected targets, unleashed the first group of torpedos. Two of them headed towards what appeared to be the flagship. Waiting in reserve were anti-ship missiles and mines.
If they wanna party, let's rock.
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Post by elizar on Sept 7, 2008 18:08:04 GMT -5
Leroy read over the note. The news of multiply ships approach Wellington was odd, and then their lack of communication. Even though navy ships were docked, it was still too small time window to react effectively if it was an attack.
"Damn, if it is an attack, it's going to be paralyzing, our oil tanks are right by that dock. Go back to the captain, I want him to be ready to depart, even though the subs may be enough. But don't do anything before my signal, I'll - "
Leroy yelled out in pain and dropped on his knees, keeping his hand on his neck.
"Wells!" The guard on duty ran up to him to see what was going on.
Aron visibly flinched as the news came that the suspicious fleet had open fire on the dock. "Do it." He said to Julian.
The battle cruiser shook twice as it got hit. Tawfiq looked around for anything that could have fired. He hadn't been but a child when the caldera blew, but he knew the stories of ships that never surfaced, but were under water all the time. The hull seemed to have withstood the twin blast, but two other ships were hit and were sinking. Lifeboats were being lowered.
<Fiddah, Nudar, pick up the survivors and their weapons.> Tawfiq spoke in the radio. <Group B and C, aim and fire at any navy ship, Group A, get the containers at the dock.> The battle cruiser, renamed Rafah after being brought to Alsir, continued on, it's weapons aimed at one of the old frigates still in use by NZ navy.
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Post by Evangeline on Sept 7, 2008 19:41:02 GMT -5
With the element of surprise now gone, the subs turned from torpedos to missiles. The new batch of targets were the ships bearing down on the defenders and the gas tanks. The first volley went up while the attackers were still trying to get a bearing on their targets.
Julian nodded. He had a tarot card in hand. "Consider it done."
The old EC-2 Hawkeye had become rather bored with retirement. Anson McDonald wasn't ready to do that final landing yet! The pitch made to him at a south pacific fuel bar by an Aardvark of similar status sounded a trifle absurd, but the arrival of humans some fifteen years before had made any number of damned crazy things possible. "OK, I'll bite." he finally said. So, he'd found himself grouped together in a "Flying Tigers" sort of deal, an odd mix of recent retirees and younger second and third-generation descendants of "obsolete" lines, the restless sorts who were always up for adventures and mischief and whom the FAA and the NTSB would very much like off their roofs, thanks very much.
It was now the Hawkeye's job to carry the force leader and a team of trained "nomad" people - much lighter and easier on the fuel load and Anson's old frame than even the smallest of forklifts - and serve as a "hellride" mount to lead the others across. With his antenna dome rotating, he assumed a position in line-of-sight of the Great Horde of veterans and newly-trained old line kids, each group led by an aircraft capable of receiving the input from his crew. He had been warned of sudden weather and atmosphere changes, and the buffeting and pressure drop were indeed disorienting, but ahead of them was a land mass that looked like New Zealand in every way, and an attacking fleet that was already having troubles from a couple of LA-class subs. Already, surface targets were being singled out by the radar team and assigned to various groups. Anson couldn't say this was exactly "fun", but here he was again, doing what he was born and bred to do, as a hound was born and bred to course and a hawk to stoop.
The nasties had been looking to make trouble. Now they were IN trouble.
Penelope was already kneeling beside Leroy. "What's wrong?"
Outside, Rachel Lowes was already casting off and heading out. Urqhart, as soon as noncombatants were taken off, would follow. They still had long-range missiles that might be of use.
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Post by elizar on Sept 7, 2008 20:18:20 GMT -5
Tawfiq growled as he heard something overhead. Enemies below the water, now above the land and sea. He looked at the shore as a large fireball appeared along with a mushroom cloud. Someone had hit the oil storage facility. But with everyone around, and the bad intel, Tawfiq knew that there was no real hope of escape.
<Target everything on shore.> He commanded. <Civilian structures first and foremost.>
He never really knew what had happened. The missile had been almost silent amongst the noise of their own missiles being fired rapidly. He just felt immense heat, a feeling of weightlessness, and never saw the water that killed him on impact.
The battle cruiser was in terrible shape. Lifeboats were going down, but people were waiting on the deck, knowing the same thing as Tawfiq knew ten minutes earlier. The cruiser tilted forward on the way to the bottom of the ocean. The remaining ships did not pose as much threat as it, but everyone, devoted to Allah and their country, knew their fate, and were certain that for their actions against the infidels and heretics, they would be rewarded a place in heaven.
"Pain." Leroy could barely think. He didn't know what was happening, or why.
"We need to get him some help." Mick, one of the guard said to Penelope. He looked around and saw an Omnibus parked and the horses feeding from a feedbag. "Penelope, tell the Frigate to stand by, that we need their help for Wells. Go to the radio room. The Morse may be down, but the shortwave isn't."
The other guard stood by, trying to identify what was going on. He had seen something like that before, but it had been a long time ago. Mick was sprinting to the omnibus and took the feedbags away. The draft horses didn't complain other than with headshakes, and Mick climbed in the 'driver' seat.
Elizabeth Donner watched from her window. Though she couldn't see much of what was going on at the dock, she saw the fighter jets. She had gotten her report about the fleet of pirates, and the apparent opposition allying with her own navy.
"Prime Minister, we really should get out of here." Her bodyguard said. "The horses are waiting for us."
"I know." Elizabeth said. But she hadn't turned away before the oil reserve blew up. She visibly flinched as the noise reached her. "But we are going to the docks."
"You're always stubborn, but this time I cannot allow that."
"Fights like these take a short time, Marcus." Elizabeth walked out of her office. "And I want to see who the victors are."
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Post by Evangeline on Sept 7, 2008 21:01:21 GMT -5
Anson felt the pressure wave from the explosion even from his position. "That must've been the fuel tanks, ma'am. Good thing they weren't LNG or it would've been a lot worse."
"Bloody buggers." Elena shifted against the straps that held her to her seat. "The city might have to evacuate anyway."
("Most of the significant targets have been hit, lady Elena.") One of the radar operators reported. ("Lots of men abandoning ship. What will be done about them?")
("The locals will probably have all kinds of ideas on what to do,") Elena smiled wolfishly. ("I can see the trees and lamposts in town acquiring a few new "decorations" before long.")
The Hawkeye already understood many Nomad words and phrases after a few months of exposure. It sounded brutal, but not inconceivable. It was McDonald's considered opinion that political correctness was a luxury for well-off socialists with nothing else to worry about, and there was some truth to that. These folks didn't need to get such ideas out of their heads because a horse-nomad culture didn't encourage such vanities in the first place. Subsistence-level living for fifteen years would have similar tough but beneficial effects on the mentalities of New Zealanders.
The Hawkeye allowed himself a derisive snort. "I'd string'em up too, if it were MY family they were firing on."
"The locals can do what they want." Elena pursed her lips. "The real interesting question here is "Did they shoot their wad in one go?"
"Don't see any others showing up, do you?"
"None, Anson." One of the radar operators replied in English. "And the jets are now breaking off as there's nothing left to sink."
"Good." the Hawkeye smirked. "Anything else?"
"For now, we go home." Elena answered. "Can't be sure what shape the airport is in. If we send anyone down, it'll be the Hercs."
Having received the news about Wells, Lazaro sprinted to the office to check his condition. "What happened?" he asked Penelope.
"He complained of sudden pains," the older secretary answered. "Still trying to figure out what."
Lazaro took his radio and called for a medical team. The sooner they got him to modern facilities, the better his chances.
Jessica watched this with a shock-frozen face. Something, an inside voice told her, was desperately "wrong" about this.
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Post by elizar on Sept 7, 2008 21:19:06 GMT -5
Elizabeth looked at the dock. Whatever that had happened, it was over. It had been a sudden attack, though she couldn't say it was without provocation.
"Damn Arabs." She muttered. She looked over to where the fuel tanks were. It had been the main storage for oil, and now they had lost it, among their main suppliers. All she wanted to was to throttle whoever told them that they were negotiating with Norway. The deals hadn't even gone through yet. And there was also a new mystery supplier, but Auckland seemed to be cut off, the liaison for the contact.
Fire fighters were busy setting up large pumps running on the little fuel there was. The business end of it didn't go to the water supply as it was supposed to, but into the ocean. Oil fires were pesky to put out, but no one wanted to just see them spread to the city.
"Gather the surviving dirt, find the figureheads and 'interrogate' them. Hang the rest." Elizabeth said coldly to one of the officers that had gone to check on her.
When Leroy finally arrived to the medical bay inside Urqhart, his whole body had begun to convulse and spasm. Aron could barely look at it and retreated outside. So much had happened, and it wasn't even noon yet. Landlines severed, apparent attack on Wellington, which housed the leader of the country, and now this.
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Post by Evangeline on Sept 7, 2008 21:50:19 GMT -5
In the streets of Wellington and the surrounding shorelines, the inhabitants didn't need to hear the Prime Minister's orders to carry out vengeance on whatever survivors they could drag from the water. Some were just shot on sight. Others were stripped naked, bound hand and foot and tossed over to furious groups of women to have their way with, in an effort to make their demise as demeaning from a cultural standpoint as possible. Others added to the insult with pig blood, entrails and manure from the local farms and slaughterhouses.
The medical team worked on securing Leroy and holding him down while the doctor took blood samples, and the nurses administered anticonvulsants and put him on a respirator.
"That's not a heart attack or stroke." Lazaro confided to Aron and Julian just outside the sickbay. "You know what, it looks like poisoning."
Mairi had been listening just down the hall. "What kind of poison?"
"What do you have?" Lazaro asked.
"Once all the "kinder, gentler" pesticides ran out, we had to go back to the old favorites - arsenic, strychnine, even cyanide." Mairi replied. "We have some supplies to keep mice and rats down in the buildings."
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Post by elizar on Sept 8, 2008 2:19:08 GMT -5
"Can't be cyanide." Aron said. "That bugger works fast and not as painful as this looks like."
"It's strychnine." Mick, one of Well's body guards stepped forward. "I just remembered where I saw this before." He gave Aron a moment to tell the doctors that it was most likely strychnine.
"Few years ago, a batch of grapes was tainted with that stuff. Another guard bribed the mover to give him some, then after eating a couple, he argued he had gotten something bad, rotten. It tastes very bitter." Mick said. "Then he started spasming and throwing around.
"And he died." Mick said looking at Lazaro.
Elizabeth turned away from the streets, who were currently being smeared by the enemies' blood. It was a public relation nightmare, and now they were most likely losing the middle-east as trade partners. Even though it was mostly beneficial for the Arabs, the loss of the oil in store would be devastating.
She went to the navy office. It had survived the attack and she saw the surviving workers trying to gather their wits.
"What can you tell me?" She asked of the commander.
"They appeared out of nowhere, destroying the out ring of defense." He said. "But soon after one of the ships sunk and it was reported that the flagship, a bloody battle cruiser, had also taken hits. The popular theory says it's submarines on our side. Then when they got in firing range of us, those fighter jets came as well and opened fire on them. Some of my men are shellshocked, they claim that the jets had eyes and a mouth, along with the flagplane."
"Is the radio operational?" Elizabeth asked.
"Yes Ma'am." The commander replied.
"Good." She went over to it and sat down. "This is Elizabeth Donner, Prime Minister of New Zealand to unknown defense force. Over." She repeated the message. She wanted to know who just saved their asses, and what the price for that was going to be.
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