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| Red Upon the Sand; The Kurdish Taliban and Iraqi Occupation | |
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| Topic Started: Jun 1 2013, 01:40 PM (1,167 Views) | |
| Whal | May 23 2014, 11:05 AM Post #76 |
"Life is too short to be wasted on bad scotch"
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The defense of As Sulaymaniyah had gone largely as planned for the Whaladyan leadership. The town had been held, the Taliban crushed and scattered, and the test run of Nova 6 had shown the Whaladyans the true destructive capabilities of their new super weapon. While the gas was indeed a horrible feat of modern science, it was hardly finished and the field results recorded by scientists in As Sulaymaniyah would help the further construction of wide variety of successor nerve agents. Project Nova, as the new assignment was officially designated, would occupy a considerable amount of the Emirate's resources and time and would be the regime's secret weapon to maintain control. Not surprisingly, what had occurred in Kurdistan would likely appear again elsewhere within the country. While the tiny Kurdish city had indeed been secured, the Whaladyan's secondary objective of obtaining Colonel Perov was unsuccessful. Field intelligence and captured information from the Russians had indicated Perov was leading the attack, however the GFID contingent dispatched to apprehend the Colonel had run into an entirely new and frustrating threat. An unknown force of supposed special forces had resisted the GFID commandos and secured the Colonel - spiriting him away in a helicopter and evading all Whaladyan efforts at his recapture. However, for all this shadow group's accomplishments, they had left a substantial amount of evidence behind. The squad which had apprehended and evacuated Perov had been decimated, yet they had been unable to cover all their tracks. Two of the masked operatives had been apprehended by Whaladyan forces - one's body secured at the Colonel's original command structure and another more "fresh" specimen recovered after his fall from the chopper in which his associates escaped. Both samples would provide only limited evidence, and it was entirely reliant on the living specimen how much information the Whaladyans would receive. The living man was quickly secured from As Sulaymaniyah and transported to the notorious detention and interrogation center at Hamzi. There, the man, who had been left a cripple from the brutal nature of his fall, awaited treatment from Whaladyan doctors and GFID interrogators. One rather sadistic interrogator in particular awaited the man's speedy recovery. Major Osman Guz was the Emirate's most "accomplished" interrogator. Having worked on everyone from AIM operatives, political dissidents, and Taliban insurgents, Guz was quite gifted in extracting information. Reliable for his sadistic yet effective methods, Guz was Al Whaladya's best chance at uncovering the man's true identity. Judging by the man's resolve, Guz would have to use all his most brutal tricks. Inside, the man (whose real name was Sergei Krylov, but was unknown to the Whaladyans) attempted to rest after several hours of treatment and minor surface surgeries. He stirred as the door to his room opened slowly. "Hello," a man in a dark green tunic with a red beret stated quietly, "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" The man grunted. He obviously didn't speak Arabic, nonetheless the Whaladyan variant. The Whaladyan smiled, and placed a brown paper bag on the floor. "Oh, my apologies. I imagine you don't speak Whaladyan Arabic. Perhaps, you speak French?" the man switched languages. The man merely starred. The Whaladyan chuckled to himself. "Hmmm, how about German? Sprechen Sie Deutsch? Habla Español? Russian?" Even at the last question, the man never changed his gaze - not even so much as a flinch. After a brief period of silence, the Whaladyan leaned in close. "Well, my friend, you don't have to talk - not yet, at least. My name is Guz, understand? We're going to become the best of friends, you and I. So, please, relax and regain your strength. You will need it," the Major stated as he patted the man's cheek. Before Major Guz exited the room, he turned towards the man. "Oh, I forgot one thing!" The Major opened the brown bag and began riffling through it. Almost immediately, a foul smell began to circulate through the room. Then, suddenly, the Major pulled a decapitated human head from the bag and threw it at the man. It landed squarely on his chest and their eyes met. It was the man's fellow operative and friend who the Whaladyans had captured at Perov's command center. It was badly decomposed and had been heavily strained from the nerve gas at the site. The man grimaced and attempted to wrestle free of its presence, but his wounds made evasion impossible. He was forced to look directly at the head. "I thought you two should catch up," the Major replied as he left, "I'll see you both very soon." Major Guz laughed as he left. Edited by Whal, May 23 2014, 11:08 AM.
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| Whal | Jun 1 2014, 06:07 PM Post #77 |
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"Life is too short to be wasted on bad scotch"
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Sergei Krylov grunted in pain as the 8th fingernail was ripped from his thumb and tossed aside. Delighted, Major Guz, laughed openly as he placed the rusty clamps upon the man's 9th fingernail on his left pointer finger. "What is your NAME!?" He browbeat the man, tugging slightly on the exposed nail. Two other GFID agents were also placing metal clamps on a truck battery. Krylov's arms may have been broken, but the nerve endings worked good as on the day he was born. The pain was acute, but not overbearing, not yet. "I want your name!" Guz screamed as he pulled the 9th one out. "And I want to know who you work for, you little shit!" Major Guz had tortured the man psychologically until this point - forcing him to sleep with the rotting head of his comrade. A few days of this were enough to break Krylov enough to get him to at least attempt to speak to the Whaladyans, yet nothing other than simple requests. From his voice, Guz had discerned that he was Eastern European. "Who are you, nameless man?!" Guz taunted, placing the clamps on his last nail. "WHAT IS YOUR NAME!!?" By now, the other two agents had prepared the truck battery and handed the free ends to the major. Guz began laughing once again. He ripped the man's last fingernail off his hand, causing another grunt of pain, before moving to take the ends of the jumper cables. He put both ends together causing a bright spark, which startled the bloody Sergei. "Electrocution," Guz stated methodically, "Not a fun time, I assure you. Now, would you care to tell me your name?' Guz leaned in close to Sergei's face. Without a moments thought, Sergei spat in his face. Brave, but a stupid decision. In a flash, the major head-butted him and before he could even recover the clamps were attached to his exposed nipples. A surge of energy more powerful than any human being should know, coursed through his body at a terrifying rate. In a matter of seconds, he began to convulse and he could smell the burning flesh wafting up from his chest. He had to cry out, the pain was too severe. "KRYLOV!" He yelled at the top if his lungs. "Sergei Krylov!!!" The pain just kept coming. "And who do you work for, Mr. Krylov?" The pain was excruciating. Sergei could feel the toll being taken on his heart and his vision was quickly becoming blurry. He would pass out soon if the electricity didn't find a conductor soon. He thought about his family, about his daughter. Suddenly, the Emperor's plans and wishes didn't seem so important. "Russian Spetsnaz! Unit 12! Moscow District!" Sergei screamed, his vision now almost completely blurry. "Excellent," Guz whispered, as he turned off the battery. Sergei quickly passed out. The Major didn't stick around much longer and left Sergei to sleep. He would need his strength soon for another round of interrogation. In the meantime, Guz retrieved the audio recording of Sergei's confession and brought it too his superior. The man nodded quietly as he played back the tape. "Well, I suppose someone should bring this to the higher ups," Guz muttered, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I imagine that news of Russian involvement will garner some serious attention.." "Shh!" The man hissed. Guz smiled widely, but continued to speak, "A little more time and I'll get us everything he knows." "Perhaps," The man scowled, "We'll soon have everything we need." "I beg your pardon?" "We're sending in a party to raid the Ganjis Mountains. We know the Taliban's last hideaway." Edited by Whal, Jun 1 2014, 06:08 PM.
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| Whal | Jul 30 2014, 11:24 AM Post #78 |
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"Life is too short to be wasted on bad scotch"
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OOC: I realized I never actually wrapped this up. Probably should do that. IC: Deep within the Ganji cave networks, amongst the stalagmites and stalactites, a severe coughing was echoing. From his beaten tiny cot, Jakar Zahawi was battling the last legs of his severe fever - and winning. The medicine provide by Nicholas' secret connections have arrived overnight and just in the nick of time to save the Taliban leader's life. Now that his fever had largely subsided and his strength was returning, Zahawi would be fit to move about his headquarters and command his army in under a day. If only there was an army to command. The bitter irony of the Taliban's condition didn't become apparent until Zahawi's confidant entered the room to check on him. "Koenig, my friend," Zahawi whimpered, "Please enter. How did the attack go?" Koenig sighed deeply, but then forced a smile. He had take care of Zahawi with nothing but a skeleton crew since his associates had left Kurdistan at the onset of the battle. Now, with news trickling in from the battlefield at As Sulaymaniyah, Koenig couldn't hide the truth from Zahawi any longer. The Taliban had been crushed. Its forces were scattered, undersupplied, and no longer being directly funded by Nicholas' shadowy contacts. Worse still, the Taliban's last and only remaining stronghold was no longer a secret; a special contingent of GFID commandos were already underway to neutralize the compound and eradicate its defenders. Koenig went to Zahawi's side and helped him drink. "Shhhh, drink," He said tenderly, "I think we should find a new base." Zahawi looked puzzled. "What? We have everything we need here to continue the fight," he stated. "Moving now would be suicide." "Staying would be suicide," Koenig said with great pain. "The attack on As Sulaymaniyah...it failed. It failed and we lost dearly...I'm..I'm so sorry, Jakar." Zahawi's face sunk. His heart sank. He looked up at Koenig and pleaded. "Nicholas' plan? Please tell me it worked. Please tell me our men didn't die for nothing!?" "We detonated the charges in the Aleppo Nuclear Refinement Plant," Koneig replied. "2/3's of the city is uninhabitable and the Whaladyans are stunned, but they are far from out of the fight. They've pushed their military capabilities to the breaking point, but they are managing it better than we had anticipated. We simply cant oppose them at force any longer. We need a considerable amount of time to rest and regroup." "Considerable?" Zahawi questioned. "By my calculations, about 2 to 3 years," Koenig said dryly. "May Allah watch over us and protect us," Zahawi prayed under his breath. "So, what now? Why do we need to leave here? Where are our foreign suppliers?" Koenig shook his head. "Nicholas and Sebastian have moved on elsewhere. Their funding has left with them. Colonel Perov is missing in action and is believed to be dead or captured. To make matters worse, our sources claim a full contingent of commandos are on their way now to destroy the compound. We need to evacuate immediately." "Unbelievable," Zahawi muttered. He attempted to lift himself, but became dizzy and fell back onto his cot. Koenig scrambled to lift him to his feet. "We need to leave now befor-," Koenig said before a huge crash was heard and the cavern shook violently. "They're here!" an insurgent screamed. Several caves away, nearer towards the cavern's entrance, a rock barrier was blasted away sending debris everywhere. Out of the rock smoke a fury of bullets sprayed into the cavern striking several of the stunned insurgents. Following the bullets, came several commandos in gas masks carrying rifles. Behind them a thick, yellowish mist trickled into the deep cavern. The Whaladyans and Nova 6 had found the cavern. As Koenig and several other men helped Zahawi to his feet, he smelt a bizarre vinegary-sulfur smell from deep within the cavern. Almost immediately, Koenig knew what that meant and rushed the men along. It wouldn't be long before the yellow death cloud found them and became their grave. The group quickly left Zahawi's private cave, remaining weapon's in tow, and headed for the secret exit. With luck, the Whaladyans hadn't discovered it and blocked their escape. As they approached the exit, Zahawi feel to the ground coughing. "Fucking sons of whores!" He sputtered between coughs. "Come on, we need to keep moving!" Koenig commanded, lifting Zahawi to his feet once more. "Freeze where you stand or we will execute you!" Ordered a muffled voice from behind the group. As they turned, they saw a group of about 15 commandos in gas masks all pointing their weapons directly at them. That strange smell was everywhere now. "Drop your weapons and you won't be harmed," the officer ordered, holding out a gas mask. "Not today perhaps!" Zahawi yelled defiantly. "Tomorrow you will torture me and string me up for all of Al Whaladya to see! I will never surrender. Allâhu Akbar!" As quick as anyone had seen him move in days, Zahawi grabbed the AK-74u Koenig had strapped to his side and fired at the ceiling above the commandos. In a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and sheer immovability in their HAZAMAT suits, the commandos couldn't stop the ceiling from collapsing on top of them. Through the dust, the commandos were either crushed directly or shot by Zahawi's men following the debacle. Those who survived all that were incapacitated and would be taken by the yellow mist quickly creeping its way towards the group. "That was incredible!" An insurgent cheered. "Allâhu Akbar!" "Yes, that's all well and good, but we need to leave NOW!" Koenig ordered, helping Zahawi along. The men quickly regained their sensibility and began moving the stone slab covering the exit. Wasting no time, they rushed out of the cavern, placed a few demolition charges and blew the doorway closed. As the remaining insurgents scrambled to find a vehicle, Zahawi sat for a moment. "We were so close, my friend. So close," he said quietly to Koenig. "It's not the end," Koenig said reassuringly. "This is not where the Taliban fades into memory, or the ferocity of the Kurds becomes just a bed time story. This is the pinnacle of your struggle; the crucible of the Kurdish uprising before the climax. We will hide away now to rebuild ourselves, but will not stay quiet for long. As long as Whaladyan tyranny reigns supreme inside the Kurdish heartland we will be there to fight it and, God willing, win." "I look forwards to the challenge!" Zahawi exclaimed reinvigorated. He stood upright for the first time that day and smiled. As the two men nodded to one another, a white van approached with the remainder of the Taliban's "army". There was a long road ahead, but eventually it would all be worth it. Eventually, the Kurds would have their freedom and their homeland. |
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11:42 AM Jul 13