Confederation of Corrupt Dictators Board (2024)

Fuopolis, Tertania

September 6, 2023, 1:15 AM

“I’m starting to think that life is just one long series of catastrophes… And when things start to begin looking up, that’s how you know you’re about due for the next mess to fall in your lap…”

An NIB agent, no older than his mid-30s, beheld a scene of damaged windows and building ledges, smashed hulks of vehicles on the road, and gaping holes In the pavement, “I mean, just what is wrong with this country lately? First it was the Bank, then that random attack on downtown Isonphis back in July… Then no more than two days later… two days later… the Arellis crash that blimp over in Stafford…”

Another NIB agent, significantly older, drops a spent cigarette on the asphalt and puts it out with his foot, “It’s not all just coincidence, Agent Woods… In fact, I don’t believe in coincidences. Don’t you recognize something familiar about that pile of scrap sitting in the middle of the intersection?” The older NIB agent pointed to the burned-out shell of the Novus Andromedae Techno-Carrier, “I’d bet Tertans to tea biscuits that this is the exact same model of military vehicle that those unknown terrorists in July used to overrun the business district… We’ll know for sure once we get this wreck off the road and have it checked over by the experts.”

Bianca’s body began to twitch and regain consciousness, “Urgh, Ocelot… I did… my best… Forgive me.”

“Did your best at what? Cause insurance premiums to spike?,” Woods ridiculed.

Ocelot struggled to lift her upper body off the tarmac and held her head in her hands, “Huh? This isn’t…! Wh-where am I?” Her entire body was covered in cuts, bruises, and scrapes, and any observer could tell it must have hurt badly to move.

Woods drew closer, “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t remember right after waking up… Just looking at the state of you, I’d say getting concussed is the least of your problems. Stay put until the paramedics can arrive.”

Ocelot shook her head and pressed her eyes closed in concentration, “…Tertania… Jaguar… The auction house… Clifford… Now I remember. Can’t believe that stupid stunt actually worked…” She slowly and carefully rose to her feet, still visibly disoriented by her experience. She looked over the wrecked Techno-Carrier, hoping to make out a body in the morass of charred and twisted metal, ”Can’t make anything out in what’s left of the co*ckpit. I don’t suppose I can count on being lucky enough to have taken him out for good… No, his reflexes are at least as good as mine. He must have found a way to escape… somehow. After all, we always used to back in the ‘good old days’… Ugh.”

“Hey, woah, woah! Take it easy! You’ll hurt yourself if you push any harder in your condition,” warned Woods. Supporting Ocelot’s weight, Woods continued, “By the way, I think it’s fair to tell you that you’re under arrest…”

Ocelot reacted with offense and confusion, “Under arrest…? I guess you haven’t been let in the loop by…? Oh yeah, I forgot… They wouldn’t have told you.”

The older NIB agent confronted Ocelot, “Forgot? No, I haven’t forgotten… If it weren’t for your physical injuries, I imagine that Woods would also recall you quite well…”

Ocelot opened her eyes, “Agent Colin Thornton… It has been quite a while, hasn’t it? While I have the opportunity, I might as well tell you. I’m… sorry about Agent Dale… about Janet Dixon… everyone who failed to evacuate the Bank in time. I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop Operation Steel Titan before it claimed their lives. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you all this earlier… for whatever it might mean to you.”

“Wait, we know this person?!,” Woods asked his superior. Searching his memory, Woods placed Ocelot’s face, “Hey, wait a second! You were the suspected terrorist the whole Bureau was hunting down last December! At first you were just a murder suspect, but then we found those documents in your hotel room…!”

“See what I told you about coincidences, Agent Woods?,” Thornton remarked, “But she wasn’t really a terrorist… At least, she wasn’t with the terrorists who blew up the Bank building. In fact, if she weren’t just at the right place at the right time, I would have had no foreknowledge of the real plot, and none of us would have been able to evacuate before the building blew… You and I both owe this woman our lives.”

“Huh? We do? But we took her in on terrorism charges, and because she was determined to be a foreign national, the IAA claimed her as under their jurisdict- Oh, I’m an idiot…,” Woods realized.

“And speaking of which, this unfortunate incident is as of now being assumed under the DTI’s jurisdiction, thank you very much,” interrupted Craig Oakley, seemingly materializing out of thin air, “And with it, the NIB is being relieved of any and all responsibility for processing suspects and handling evidence relating to the case… We’ll take over from here, Thornton. Dismissed

“Oakley… So what, Haines couldn’t be bothered to snub me in person? He had to send his un-distinguished errand boy to insult me over long-distance?,” Thornton snarked.

“sigh… The cultivation of inter-service rivalries is very unprofessional, you know. Perhaps if the NIB were even marginally capable of doing their jobs, then thousands of Tertanian citizens wouldn’t be dead today because of Arelli fanatics, Ridnezite saboteurs, and who-knows-who-else, and President Lane wouldn’t have seen fit to inaugurate the DTI under IAA auspices to begin with!,” replied an acerbic Oakley.

“…That’s it, Woods, unhand the suspect. This disaster is now the problem of Haines’ team of organ grinder monkeys. We’re out of here,” stated Thornton, turning his back on the crime scene. Oakley looked Ocelot in the eyes, shrugged, and released her into Oakley’s custody. Within a few minutes’ time, the NIB agents piled into the car in which they arrived and cruised off into the night.

Oakley stared without comment at Ocelot’s bloodied form, betraying no hint of emotion. Ocelot met Oakley’s gaze with a certain palpable contempt, “What… what are you looking at?”

Oakley obliged, “You look like something the cat dragged in.” Ocelot groaned, “I’ve been through worse… How long was I out?”

Oakley checked his watch with a moment’s glance, “Around 25 minutes, assuming you lost consciousness shortly after the first reports of the Techno-Carrier started coming in.” The choice of words caught Ocelot’s attention, “Wait a second… Is that what this tactical assault vehicle was called? So you-! You knew what you were sending Clifford and me into from the beginning, didn’t you? You and Haines both!”

“No use denying it. We even knew the identity of the actor holding the underworld auction… Very little happens in this country that the DTI doesn’t catch wind of,” Oakley admitted. “You knew about him too?! Then why didn’t you tell me? Jaguar… You must have known how personally I’d take it! Like re-opening an old wound!,” Ocelot responded.

“Director Haines and I had our reasons… Why don’t we discuss this in the car?,” Oakley suggested. Oakley opened the door to a solid-black sedan and beckoned Ocelot inside. After both figures were seated in back, an unseen driver, separated from the passengers by an opaque screen, began to navigate the damaged roadways. Ocelot looked out the window, “No civilians on the sidewalk or in the way, it seems. The DTI sure knows how to establish a cordon around an area fast.”

Oakley leaned ever so slightly towards Ocelot, “That’s none of your concern right now. You wanted answers about Jaguar; now you’re getting them. Simply put, Jaguar is – and has been for some time – a freelance agent of the IAA. In the days before the DTI existed, we would use freelancers like him to get around the obstacle posed by the IAA’s strict operational parameters.”

“In other words, you and your higher-ups needed someone with no prior attachments to the agency… a proxy for when you needed things to be done on Tertanian soil but couldn’t be caught acting through your own agents,” Ocelot stated.

Oakley nodded silently. “Unfortunately, paying work from the IAA began to dry up after the previous administration fell in disgrace… But someone was more than happy to make continued use of Jaguar’s services. Someone in the know… someone with connections on the inside…,” Oakley explained. The dark-suited government man procured a number of photos from his pocket and showed it to Ocelot, “See anything familiar?”

As Ocelot flipped from one image to another, she recognized combat vehicles like the Techno-Carrier she barely survived, in addition to equally jet-black attack helicopters. Oakley provided commentary, “That was July 9 this year. A group of armed terrorists, no known affiliation or recognizable nationality, pop into existence and lead a rampage through downtown Isonphis, claiming the lives of hundreds. Right afterwards, Christopher Staveley, the former President of Tertania, took to the airwaves to blame President Lane’s administration for failing to preempt the attack. Then post-Stafford, President Lane pulled out all the stops on the counter-terrorism agenda… a program traditionally associated with Staveley’s Conservative Party, so Staveley did a total course-correct and now courts lefty votes… In short, the Labour and Conservative Parties have, on the face of it, switched positions.”

“Blatant opportunism is the order of the day in politics. But why bring it up? You said that work ‘dried up’ when the previous administration was voted out of power… That would have been this Staveley guy, right? Do you think Staveley out of power is still pulling Jaguar’s strings?,” Ocelot queried, raising her eyebrow. “Based on what evidence? Taking advantage of a public crisis? It’s like you said, that’s why politics was invented! No, it’s more than that, and you’ll see the relevance soon enough… We were able to determine the hardware was manufactured in Salcanceacy.”

Ocelot interjected, “The Kingdom of Salcanceacy is well-known to not care whom they sell arms to… Arms sales make up the bulk of Salcanceacian GDP, and it’s not uncommon for them to end up supplying both sides to a conflict for greater profit… I would know from experience

Oakley replied, “And because of the considerations that this trade in military hardware creates, the Salcanceacian government is, shall we say, less-than-willing to humor questions about their clients’ identities. In addition… something is changing in Kanten. There are whispers that Salcanceacian leadership wants to lead the nation to becoming a regional power in its own right… Foreign policy experts have speculated about whether this presents a danger to League interests in Usea…”

“But you have no idea to whom or to where an order of materiel matching this description went out…,” Ocelot concluded, “But why tell me all this now? Why should you expect I give a damn about intrigue around your country?”

“Well, you ‘gave enough of a damn’ to be in Tertania at the right time to get yourself caught, and Director Haines and I believed that your encounter with Jaguar would… reorient your immediate priorities somewhat,” Oakley confessed.

“Reoriented away from Ridnez? I might have a score to settle with Jaguar, but I didn’t spend the last 11 years chasing him around the world… My country comes first. It’s where I can do the most good… And for what it’s worth, I deeply resent how you’ve contrived to keep me from it,” Ocelot fumed.

Oakley smirked that smug smirk of his again, “I thought you might say something like that, so how about I get to the good part… Director Haines mentioned to you that the deed to the auction house was being held by a real estate developer headquartered in the Raj, but what we… neglected to bring up before sending you into the field… was that we did some checking with our sources and do have a lead… One that helps connect Jaguar to Staveley, on top of… Oh, wait til you hear, you’ll like this.”

Ocelot paused and maintained an unamused expression. Oakley continued, “The land developer goes by the name of ‘Roderick Fullerton’, an eccentric mover-and-shaker in the Raj who founded Buonasera Luxury Residences late last year. There are no records of his having existed prior to then other than the paperwork filed with the Raj Hall of Records… No known education, no known living relatives, no tax forms ever filed…”

An unimpressed Ocelot folded her arms, “You still haven’t gotten to the so-called ‘good part’…” Oakley continued, “Around the same time as Fullerton started buying up land in Monto, your ‘old acquaintance’ Dominic Oberto vanished from Magnifico on the pretext of arranging an official state visit to the Raj… Records of Governor Snow’s office show that this visit never happened. February 2023, another of your longstanding associates, one Rosa Bernardi, took the independent initiative to hack public unit accounts accessible to Oberto and his remaining cronies… The IAA is presently trying to manage that situation on the side, I might add… It’s led to something of an impasse between your movement and Oberto’s buddies over there.”

Ocelot’s eyes lit up, “Rosa…? You… Neither Haines nor you ever told me any of this while I was performing for you in that damn compound all those months. I could have taken care of all this… I could have-“ Oakley interrupted, “Driver, we’re at the place. Please stop here.” Oakley opened the door of the sedan and climbed out first, semi-mockingly bowing and gesturing while holding the door open.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that chivalry is dead, Oakley?,” Ocelot said as she exited the car, “Swell, so we’re back at the auction house… I still can’t piece together what you seem to be implying or leading up to? What do Rosa and Oberto have to do with Staveley and Fullerton?”

“Must have taken a mean concussion from that explosion … You used to be sharper than this, Ms. Drakos! Think for a second, think! Oberto disappears from Ridnez to visit the Raj, while Fullerton… a man with no past and no known public appearances… shows up out of nowhere the Raj, all the corporate paperwork filed and notarized. You told us yourself that it was obvious this place was a front!”

Ocelot paused for a moment, “…So you’re saying that you think Oberto is setting the venues for these sorts of black market auctions… and so is responsible for supplying military equipment to terrorists… to manipulate Tertanian public opinion in Staveley’s favor? That would explain some things… Even your people weren’t able to keep me from learning about Oberto’s state visit to Tertania… and the associated scandal when he went out of his way to embarrass the Labour government during his address to the National Assembly. From what you’ve said, that type of move would appear to benefit Staveley, so maybe the two are in cahoots. But at this point, it’s all just circ*mstantial. Nothing can be proven to a legal standard until you get Jaguar under wraps… Even then…”

Oakley strode up to the front door of the auction house with Ocelot, deftly avoiding DTI agents scouring the lawn for specimens of material evidence, “Hm, you’re getting closer to the agency’s working theory, but there’s still a wrinkle left. Without access to Magnifico’s bank accounts, Oberto is effectively broke. All his personal assets are tied up in Ridnezite business enterprises, and it would be a fairly simple matter to trace the cash flow if any was wired internationally. But instead what we found was that Dominic Oberto’s expenses – while still in his formal capacity as de facto Ridnezite head of state – are being underwritten by an NGO – The Ridnez-Heisenian Security Organization – and wouldn’t you guess it but that this Organization is also headquartered in the Raj... Y’know, like Buonasera Luxury Residences. Likewise, the Organization is represented by an eccentric recluse who hasn’t been photographed outside in more than a decade… You might be familiar with the name…”

Ocelot furrowed her brows, “All too familiar. Edgar Isidore Albertson, he founded the Organization. You must know that my predecessor, Jaguar, and I were all once in his employ… But when Ifedayo… when the original Ocelot decided to make the anti-Zendirist cause his own after all that time… communications ceased. My network is aware that the Organization continue to be active, but ever since ‘Ocelotists’ got nominated as public enemy #1 by Bombardone, they’ve assumed a lower profile…”

Oakley led Ocelot down a hallway to where the fight earlier that night took place, “We thought you might have some special insight to offer. Now tell me this…,” he said, procuring another photo from his pocket, taken at Isonphis International Airport, ”Is the man in this snapshot the Mr. Albertson you remember?”

Ocelot reacted to the image with shock, “What?! No, that’s… That’s self-styled ‘Captain’ Hugo Hunt… A renegade mercenary from NEI who now serves as Dominic Oberto’s muscle… He claimed to be Edgar Isidore Albertson?!” Oakley took the photo back and slid it in his pocket, “That he did… Had a Raj-issued passport, or expert facsimile thereof, made out to Mr. Albertson’s name, and came into the country with it on the exact same day that Oberto began his official visit in Tertania, albeit at a separate airport. It gets even more complicated. Even if we assume Oberto, Staveley, and Jaguar are all connected, that still leaves us with one major outstanding question: Who’s really backing Oberto? When we get the answer to that, we find the lynchpin of this whole conspiracy… Now I’ve got to warn you we’re heading back to the salesroom you smashed your way into earlier. Brace yourself because it’s not pretty.”

“The chaos in that salesroom is something I caused myself. What do you expect me to be… Axon above!,” Ocelot screamed, laying horrified eyes on the nauseating spectacle before her.

DTI Facility, Abinhill, Tertania

September 6, 2023, 10:49 AM

“Agent Clifford was found decapitated and disarticulated; his torso was impaled on a pike after the fact. A message was scrawled on the right supporting wall of the building in Azaaran characters, paraphrasing passages from the Zawasuli holy text,” Andrew Haines read off the report in his hand, “…in typical fashion, taken out of the original context… Who asked this guy for his opinion? And you, what do you have to say for yourself about this fiasco?!”

Ocelot sat across a desk from Haines, “What I have to say…? That you should’ve given me a full briefing on what Clifford and I were being tossed into, that’s what I have to ‘say’. You must have known… must have expected something would happen.”

“No, Ms. Drakos, I didn’t know. In fact, that was precisely why I did keep you in the dark: I needed to know whether you would overreact… let emotion dictate your actions instead of the mission parameters. Based on this abysmal outcome, I’m surprised you and your chums lived this long back in Ridnez, scurrying away from the Zendies,” accused Haines.

Ocelot retorted, “Don’t talk to me about the mission parameters. Jaguar and I recognized each other the second I set foot into that salesroom. Any hope of tackling this assignment by ‘infiltrating’ the auction was doomed to failure from the outset. And as I keep saying, you knew that… You must have.”

Haines ruminated for several moments, “…Just tell me again about who you saw at the auction. We have nothing to go by but you at this point.” Ocelot gripped the armrests of her chair and thrust forward from her seat, “How many times do I have to keep telling you?! There were no Arellis at the auction! None! Nada! Zilch! But there was one party to the auction who survived the shootout and was, according to your people, nowhere to be seen upon their arrival… Matthew… Parkes. No one else could have done this in such a narrow window of time!”

“We’ve been searching for Parkes for months, since he emerged as a suspect of interest in what the Ridnezite MultiStrat Bureau evidently called ‘Operation Steel Titan’… And we know he’s linked to the Arellis from photocopies of the MultiStrat protocols we picked up from that hotel room. The man was funding Farokhist interest groups to lobby the Tertanian National Assembly even before Farokh took power! The thing I can’t get my head around is how this central banker in a business suit managed to eviscerate Clifford and get clean away in less than 30 minutes! Nothing in the man’s background suggests anything like…,” Haines protested.

“Look, something big… big, strange, and most of all, bad… is going down on the streets of Tertania. And while I may not have figured it out until just today, it’s going to be intimately connected to the fate of Ridnez… my home. Parkes is in the pocket of the Zendies, and Oberto… Staveley… whoever was behind that auction… was about to supply them cutting-edge weaponry. None of it makes any sense right now! But while I might not have all the answers, I could fish some out if you just give me a name… some freedom to work and a name… I don’t believe you’ve told me everything you have on the developing sitch; you must be able to give me something to use…,” Ocelot thrust her fists against Haines’ desk.

Unmoved by the display, Haines sat back in his chair and folded his hands, “…no. Axon, no… You fail to appreciate your relationship to the agency. You are, from here on, now and forever, an asset… an asset the agency has at complete liberty to position or deploy as befits the goals of Tertania. We aren’t partners. We aren’t allies. You are only useful to Tertania, so long as you’re kept on a short leash. Now get out of here.”

Ocelot squinted contemptuously at Haines, as if looks could kill, then turned and left the office, “Fine, have it your way…” She let the room slam behind her and murmured under her breath, “…for now.”

September 12, 2023, 11:15 AM

“When the Great Ancients return, all the heretics of this world will be purged! Flayed alive and made to dance on coal for 1000 eternities! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!”

A fist slammed against a plexiglass screen with all the force and power of madness behind it. On the other side, Bianca Drakos didn’t even flinch, as the glass absorbed the impact of the blow, just as it had the last several dozen punches thrown at it from the occupant of the cell, sole survivor of the incident in Fuopolis days ago. “The City of Thorns reveals the way to other planes! Other lands with beauty and riches untold, not despoiled like the festering and rotting world of Avaris! The Esoteric Order will find the city, find the way to a million paths to salvation! Such a shame you sinners won’t be around to see it! Burn, burn, burn, die, die die…,” the prisoner rambled on.

Ocelot simply observed with a mixture of pity and frustration, though her mind was clearly also on other topics than the fringe cult of Al’Haqiqa. Craig Oakley came up behind her, without her initially noticing, “Yep, he’s a sick puppy alright… Can’t ID him, there are no facial matches in any public database and his fingerprints have been singed off. All we can tell is he’s a probable Talgerrian national. Can’t deport him though, since the South Usean epidemic is still ongoing. I dunno, in the end, we’ll likely decide to just lose him in a psychiatric hospital and keep him sedated the rest of his life.”

Ocelot didn’t expect the intrusion, but wasn’t startled by it either. “Hm-hm,” she simply replied, “So why have you come to disturb my reverie, Agent Oakley? Could it be that Haines has more b*tch work that none of the real field agents could be bothered with?”

“Not exactly,” replied Oakley, “You have to understand that Andrew Haines is not a man accustomed to failure, much less losing agents – bright-eyed Tertanian boys -- in the field… I don’t know exactly what he told you the morning after Fuopolis that’s so soured your mood, but you just have to accept that’s how he is.”

“So you’re saying Haines is parochial and attaches different weight to the lives of different classes of operatives… Like I didn’t already know that?,” Ocelot snubbed.

“Well, let’s look at things another way. An organization invested with so much responsibility as the IAA can’t afford to let unknown quantities complicate strategy. For instance, I’ve noticed that you healed… rather nicely from your bruises and scars last week. One might say your recuperative abilities exceed the expected human capabilities…,” Oakley discussed, “And you know what? The same can be said for him…” He pointed to the Al’Haqiqa Shayatin assassin behind the plexiglass screen, still slamming his fists bloody against it.

Ocelot glanced momentarily at the Shayatin and turned back to Oakley, “What can I say? I guess I must live right.” Oakley scoffed, “More likely… considering the labwork that came back on the both of you… you’ve both been exposed to similar co*cktails of performance-enhancing drugs. Not anabolic steroids or anything like that; some really exotic sh*t. Sadly, the stuff he got pumped with has left him permanently deranged… or at least that’s what the doctors say, if I understood correctly.”

“Why are you telling me this?,” Ocelot asked, “I have my secrets. You have yours. I may be your ‘guest’ but Haines made very clear I am not your friend.” Oakley leaned in more closely, “See, that’s the issue with Director Haines that I was dancing around before. He’s in a tough position; it’s too difficult to trust. But in so doing, I personally believe he’s squandering a potentially very valuable resource… A resource to both my country and yours

Ocelot’s stern demeanor began to show up cracks. She looked behind her and then at the corners of the ceiling where security cameras were placed. To her surprise, all were turned off at the moment. “Does… Does Haines know you’re here?,” Ocelot questioned. Oakley lowered his voice, “Matthew Parkes’ current residence. 2456 Serenity Blvd, Isrens. Electronic security devices in this wing of the complex have been turned off and their monitors hacked to play looped footage. I can cover up your disappearance until noon tomorrow.”

“But, wait…! Why are you doing this?,” Ocelot demanded.

Oakley replied, “I confess to having… fibbed earlier about not overhearing your conversation with the Director last week. Director Haines said that you will never be an ally of Tertania, that your cause and Tertania’s interest have nothing alike. I… disagree. I believe in taking risks and in asking for forgiveness before permission. And most of all, I believe that we haven’t even begun to get a sense of your true potential, Ms. Drakos. All it requires is that we… put a little more faith in each other. Does that answer your question?”

Without another word, Ocelot silently nodded and went on her way.

Isrens, Tertania

September 12, 2023, 11:15 AM

“This damned apartment is getting to me! Hearing scratches at night… on the floor… just co*ckroaches. Rapping on the window… Oh, it’s just a tree branch. But I know… I just know that one day it’ll be them

A loud knocking startles a 30-something man with mussed brown hair from his fitful sleep. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. I’m coming!,” the rowdy tenant exclaimed. The door swung open, and the unkempt man – still in pajamas – came face-to-face with his landlady, a short Tienese woman with a temper, “Mr. Matthews, you’re over a week late on rent! This isn’t a charity, you know!” The man nervously fumbled his words, “Oh, yeah! I can get… Just hold on…” The Tienese woman waited at the door as the man stumbled about inside the room. After a couple seconds, the tenant re-appeared with his wallet in hand, “So… how much do I owe you?”

Unknown location

October 2022

“Please state again how the ‘interests’ you claim to represent have any common cause with the Arelli people’s jihad.”

“It’s very simple. You have a problem with the IAA. We have a problem with the IAA. Pooling together resources is the surest way to organize reprisals within the heart of Tertania. Any questions?,“ stated Matthew Parkes.

Parkes stood before a panel of five interviewers draped in shadow. Behind them, illuminated by a light fixture, was the flag of the National Farokhist Arelli Zawazuli Party. The group of five whispered amongst themselves for several seconds. “We are given to the understanding that your employers possess certain… ideologies which do not concord with the teachings of Zawasul… and are hostile to the party’s desire to see a strong and ascendant Arelli National State,” spoke the chief representative of the panel.

The Farokhist threw a stack of pamphlets into the center of the darkened room, “According to these materials, the people you work for have no sympathy for the people of Arellistan or our history of exploitation by various powers. On the contrary, they see South Usea as a promised land that is theirs to claim at the cost of all else. If the goals of Andreas Bombardone had even a small chance of reaching fruition, Ridnez would be detested by our people far more than even the Tertanian imperialist dogs are at present! So I ask you again, why so audacious as to seek an audience with us? Knowing the spite your masters have for our people, and that which we return in kind

Parkes rubbed his chin and started to pace, “So maybe Bombardone was a lunatic… What of it? I didn’t agree to blow up that building for the Zendies because I sincerely bought their claims I would be one of the ‘sufficiently racially pure’ minority they’d let live in the long run. That’s just crazy talk. I did it because they would have picked someone on the Board of Directors to do the job either way, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to bet against the odds. So how about this? The Tertanian Army is already invading your country; the IAA has who-knows how many rats eating away at the foundations of your national defense. My employers are reaching out with a limited proposal – to work together towards the goal of crippling the Tertanian state. What the Zendies would do in some hypothetical scenario isn’t important… What matters is whether Mullah Farokh wants to bet against the odds that he can handle the League’s incursions… alone

The Farokhists muttered amongst themselves, then addressed Parkes, “We have decided that there is… interest in your proposal. But you can tell the atheistic curs you obey that this changes nothing as regards the official policy towards your ‘Temple of Umbra’… Once our mutual goal is assured, this partnership is defunct

Isrens, Tertania

September 12, 2023, 1:23 PM

Parkes stared blankly at the rapidly cooling breakfast on the table, lost in his recollections of how his life wound up this way.

“Is everything all right? Were the eggs done how you like?,” asked a young waitress. Parkes snapped out of his daydreaming, “Huh? Oh, uh, yes… Everything… was done to perfection.” Parkes then looked down at the plate again and began to scarf everything down, more out of self-duty than enjoyment. ”Can’t bungle the big trade happening tonight. In too deep for that, have to see it through to the end…”

As Parkes ate, he instinctively scanned the room for danger. Danger meant more than knives and guns; it meant any chance someone might recognize him from a photo in the paper or a news broadcast. Several rows of booths down from where he was seated, several teenagers were engaged taking selfies with their cell phones. The possibility of being caught in the background of the image, then identified later, made Parkes’ stomach sink.

“It was a wonderful meal, but I’m afraid I’m full now. Should this be sufficient to cover the bill?,” Parkes emptied his wallet of its meager paper money and dumped it on his table, high-tailing it out of the diner as soon as possible. Parkes anxiously shoved his way through the crowded sidewalk for several blocks, checking his watch repeatedly. At a certain intersection, a car scooted up next to the curb and a voice beckoned from the driver’s seat, “You’re 5 minutes late. We have a schedule to keep.” Parkes quickly occupied the passenger seat and strapped himself in, “Believe me, I haven’t forgotten… If the deal doesn’t go through tonight, it might never.”

From a rooftop away, a pair of sharp hazel eyes tracked Parkes’ every move through a pair of binoculars, like a predator on the trail of its prey, “Found you!”

September 25, 2023, 6:30 PM

“It’s time… Where they hell are they? Please, by Axon, don’t tell me they’re onto me… They haven’t caught up with me yet… Not when I’m so close!”

Matthew Parkes shifted about uncomfortably on a park bench beneath the shade of an oak tree, tightly holding a briefcase in one hand. An autumn sunset bathed the scenery in a warm orange glow, and the park itself was sparsely occupied. It would have been a pleasant evening if it were any other evening but this.

Parkes looked down at his watch again and stood up with the briefcase, scanning his environs. He spotted several men in dark suits spread out across the open expanse, including some navigating the paths behind the tree line. But these weren’t who he was afraid of. He looked towards one of the men seated on another park bench a few yards away, seemingly engrossed in the late edition of The Tertanian Times. The suited individual briefly gazed in Parkes’ direction and gave a subtle nod. With that, Parkes began to take a stroll down the winding gravel path in front of him.

The silence in the air that evening was almost haunting in its own way; only the sound of Parkes’ footsteps crunching fallen leaves on the walkway broke through the quiet. Parkes shot a glance towards the end of the trail, nearby a medium-sized fishing pond. A man wearing a sportsman’s cap stood by the water with his line cast out. ”Nerves, Matthew, just nerves… Make this drop and you can get the hell out of this country with all the money that’s waiting for you,” he thought tohimself.

As Parkes passed under tall trees dotting the side of the path, he felt a light breeze against his face, ”It’s getting chilly as the sun’s going down. Let’s get this over with, c’mon.” He then detected the shadow of… something… pass overhead, drawing his attention, ”…Just a squirrel or… or a bird or something. That’s all it was, some stupid animal.” Parkes passed by the man with the newspaper and gave him a silent nod. Seconds later, he again detected shifting of the shadows cast by the tree branches above, ”What the hell was that?!” Parkes quickened his steps, ”I know that I saw something this time! I know that I-“

Parkes’ train of thought came to a screeching halt; he made the mistake of looking behind him. The man on the bench was still seated there, but something was wrong. His newspaper was sprawled out over his lap, and his arms and legs seemed to have gone limp. Parkes then looked out over the verdant field in the distance; though it was several meters away, he could see inert black forms splayed across the grass. Suddenly, Parkes began to run, only to be stymied by another gust of wind, this one more sudden and more powerful than the mere breeze from before.

At the end of the trail, by the fishing pond, Parkes approached the lone fisherman, “Listen up, we don’t have much time. We’re being followed…” The fisherman calmly reeled in a larger minnow, “You were now, were you? Can’t you do anything right?” The fisherman’s cap, even up close, cast a shade over the upper half of the fisherman’s face, obscuring his eyes… A similar effect to that which might be had by wearing a visor. “Look, the stuff’s in here. I mean, what the hell, they knew where the place for the auction was going down too…!”

The fisherman unhooked the fish and tossed it back into the pond, “Yes, but your employers and mine both suspected that there might be some sort of interference… It’s all been factored into our long-term plans. Besides which, you and I both well know that the auction was just a farce; there was no doubt that your guys were getting the goods from the start… Say, do you enjoy going fishing, Mr. Parkes?”

Parkes clenched his fists, panic in his eyes, “Look, what does that matter? I’ve got to get the hell out of here… Out of here and out of this country…” The fisherman retrieved his line, “A shame that you don’t know the joys of going fishing in a public park… My father took me here every week when I was a kid. It was a happy time. It was… relaxing. Those days weren’t to last though… The bloody Axonite Church saw to that…”

Parkes turned his head at the trees and the path behind him, when another strong wind buffeted his body. The tree trunks swung in Parkes and the fisherman’s direction and cast long shadows over them both now… and for a brief moment, Parkes could have sworn he saw a pair of green goggles poking out from the darkness beneath the foliage. The fisherman crouched by his tackle box and rummaged through the materials inside, “How much do you know about fish hooks, Mr. Parkes?” Parkes looked back and forth between the fisherman and the darkness closing in, “Uh… screw this. You have what you want! I’m gone!”

As Parkes sprinted away, the fisherman continued to speak, as if perhaps he was addressing someone else as well all along, “The type of hook you use depends on what you want to catch really… cod, haddock, carp…” As a figure emerged from the darkness about to pounce, the fisherman reacted with equal swiftness, hurling a sharp blade from the tackle box into the opening of the trees. “Gah!,” came the expected grunt of pain indicating contact, immediately followed by a rustle of the leaves and branches and the thud of a human being collapsed on the ground.

“I use a different kind of bait to catch land-dwelling creatures though… Eleven years apart, then we run into each other twice in one month! We’ve got to stop meeting each other like this, Lynxie. People will start to talk! Ha!” The Ocelot squirmed on the gravel of the path, grabbing the knife embedded in her right calf, “I thought I told you…,” she said through the pain, “…to stop calling me that!” Jaguar leaped into the air with inhuman deftness and prepared to nail Ocelot with a flying drop kick.

At the last possible instant, Ocelot rolled out of the way, simultaneously yanking the knife from her body and striking back with it at close-range. “Agh!,” exclaimed Jaguar, as the blade embedded itself in his left shoulder, “Well, whatever you want to call yourself, little lady, you are nothing compared to Ifedayo…” Jaguar ripped the blade from his shoulder and tossed it aside, throwing a punch Ocelot’s way.

Ocelot leaped into one of the lower-hanging branches of an adjacent oak tree, “Don’t you dare say his name! You’re not worthy of it!” Instantly after making the ascent, Ocelot stumbled and nearly lost her balance, ”Damn, so used to favoring this leg… Got to adapt on the fly, I guess.”

Jaguar reoriented himself and approached at ground level, “Haven’t we danced this tango not so long ago? Please don’t insult my intelligence by acting like you’re here on some grudge. I know who that lummox was you brought with you to the auction house… The IAA decided that I was too dangerous to them as a freelancer… Too unpredictable for those control-freaks to live with… Knowing the secrets that I know. So, they figured that since they collared you for your involvement in that business last December that they might as well turn their new attack dog out on the old one they cut loose! Figures

Jaguar leaped up after Ocelot, though having difficulty due to the shoulder injury; Ocelot simply leaped to a higher branch. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jaguar… We might have a score to settle between us, but in case you hadn’t noticed, I had better things to do over the last decade… Like pick up the cause you betrayed… Give the people of Ridnez a symbol of hope… Another, better ideal to aspire to.”

“Oh, please! ‘Symbol of hope’… Who do you think you are? I know why you stayed, Lynxie! You stayed in Ridnez because you hated Del Tuono and Bombardone even more than you hate me! Because while I may have fired the gun, they paid for the contract. That’s why! I know about the body count you’ve run up in your frankly clumsy revenge campaign! Or do I have to bring up Due Fiume, the Zendies’ biggest propaganda coup since they started out!,” accused Jaguar.

Jaguar leaped from the lower branch to Ocelot’s higher perch. Ocelot ducked, swung loose from the branch with her arms, and flipped herself back up to plant her left foot directly in Jaguar’s chest. Ocelot and Jaguar were taken by the momentum from the tree branch and both fell against the grass, with Jaguar taking the brunt of the impact and Ocelot cushioning herself against it with Jaguar’s body. However, Ocelot’s stunt caused her to flinch in pain and roll onto the ground; her right leg absorbed part of the force from the ground.

“You aren’t a hero if that’s what you’ve deluded yourself into believing… You’re a gutter snipe that Ifedayo snatched up out of pity and taught a few tricks. The only way you’re able to challenge me at any level is because he let you have the Orisha Elixir, and that doesn’t mean much when it courses through my veins as well. You’re the daughter of a failed f*cking politician who got made into the sacrificial goat for the criminal incompetence of an entire government. Cry me a river,” Jaguar mocked, pressing his advantage to stomp his boot into Ocelot’s face.

Ocelot tumbled over a knoll and struggled to lift off the ground, as Jaguar approached. “You have this reputation… Wooh!... of being this hardass, take-no-prisoners terrorist leader. But I know better… You’re an emotional cripple, a self-deluded sentimentalist who thinks she’s fighting for ’humanity’ or a better tomorrow or something, when the truth is she just wants to get back at everyone who ever made her suffer. To be honest… I could relate… if you weren’t so goddamned self-righteous about it!”

Jaguar kicked Ocelot in the gut, causing her to tumble over again, “You let everyone else think you’re cold… that you’re not afraid of making the hard choices to get what you want… But that’s not true, deep down, you’re mush… You’re a mess who’s only gotten this far because Ifedayo’s training gave your once-impotent rage an outlet… You could now shoot, bomb, stab the ones who made mommy and daddy go away

Jaguar knelt beside Ocelot and grabbed her by the hair, yelling in her ear, “Big whoop! I went through the same crap… But Ifedayo taught me to get over it… that the world is filled with corrupt bastards and that the only way to take down one is to make a dirty deal with another. He didn’t just train my body but also my mind; I had to know exactly what it was that I wanted and to realize the courage to reach out and take it! And if you knew the way Ifedayo once lived, way back before you came along, you’d know that he once wasn’t afraid to take it, alright. You made him soft somehow… He no longer remembered that he was a mercenary and not some sort of philanthropist. Of course, he was always on about that ‘honor’ baloney long before then, but up until then, much of it was just good business sense.”

Ocelot retaliated with fierce quickness, sweeping Jaguar onto the ground with her good leg and getting on top of him. She smashed her fist into Jaguar’s face perhaps a dozen times with untamed fury, breaking and bloodying his nose, “What was that you were saying earlier about bait?!” She pounded until Jaguar looked as though he was maybe about semi-conscious, then threw him against the bark of the nearby oak tree and pinned him with her elbow, “You can rattle off all the condemnations you want, but this is more than about just us, you f*cking psycho! Do you know who Parkes is working for even? What about Oberto? Does he know he’s about to sell a platoon’s worth of Salcanceacian military equipment to the MultiStrat Bureau?! That he’s indirectly financing the same terrorist campaigns designed to annihilate his number-one benefactors on the Usean continent! For what, more money?”

Jaguar headbutted Ocelot and followed up with his signature haymaker, knocking her off balance, “…So you’re into this farther than I gave you credit. For all the good it’ll do you. The events set in motion can’t be stopped. And you won’t live to appreciate the answers as they come to light. Then again, look at the bright side…” Jaguar followed up with a knee to the stomach and an elbow to the back of Ocelot’s head, “Your idiot followers in the Ridnezite Underground and those Tertanian government dogs will never realize what a worthless disappointment you turned out to be.”

Ocelot collapsed onto the ground. The shroud of unconsciousness once again followed.

September 25, 2023, 7:15 PM

Ocelot awoke in the very same spot Jaguar had left her. By now, the sun had already set. Chirping of crickets resounded through the night, ”Urgh… How long has it been? I couldn’t have been out that long, could I? No, it was already on the verge of dusk when… Jaguar… Idiot… Idiot!”

Ocelot picked herself up off the grass and stumbled onto the path, holding her still-spinning head steady with one hand, and limping slightly from her right leg, ”The Arelli armed lookouts… Tried to be ‘gentle’ on most of them, but had to put down a few that put up a fight. Police will find out about this in the morning… Police… NIB… DTI. Can’t let them take me back in… Not until… Not until I’ve found… Parkes!”

At that thought, Ocelot regained full lucidity with the adrenaline spike; even the pain in her leg didn’t stop her from sprinting as fast as possible to reach the park exit, ”Should’ve gone after Parkes from the beginning and left Jaguar alone… He’s the easy prey. But now he’s on alert… scared, running. He could be gone underground by now for all I know… But I have to hope he was dumb enough to return to his apartment to take his belongings… Whatever he might be holding in trust for either the Arellis or the Zendies.”

Ocelot reached the park exit and scanned the bustling city street from the sidewalk. She fixed her attention on a motorcycle rider putting on his helmet and ran towards him. The biker didn’t hear the swift approach over the noise of traffic and crowds, but he did feel Ocelot tap on his shoulder, suddenly startled. “Sorry about this,” Ocelot said, grabbing the biker by the arm and flipping him over her shoulder and onto the pavement. While the biker remained stunned, Ocelot swiped the keys off his body and used them to rev up the engine. “Thanks,” she semi-sarcastically quipped, before riding off down the road, weaving dangerously through traffic.

”2456 Serenity Blvd. I’ll catch him there… hopefully. I might not care much for being the DTI’s ‘attack dog’, as Jaguar put it… But it’s not like those exhausting months fighting IAA boys for Haines’ gratification. There’s a real purpose now. And I owe it to Oakley, even if he is a smarmy weasel… not to come back empty-handed.”

September 25, 2023, 7:30 PM

“Yes, I’m packing only the important documents… What?! Stop needling me! I’m trying as best I can! I’m going as fast as I possibly can!”

Parkes anxiously emptied out his safe, drawers, dressers, and cabinets, scurrying about in a frenzy to beat the clock… or rather, his pursuers. “Please, you got to… You got to understand, I don’t know how she found me!,” Parkes pleaded… with apparently no one. The sounds coming from Parkes’ apartment received the unwanted attention of the occupant of the apartment directly beneath his, an overweight woman, “Will you cut that racket out?! I can’t hear my stories over that sh*t you’ve got going on upstairs!” Parkes yelled in desperation and spite through the floor, “Suck my c*ck, grandma!”

Parkes slammed his suitcase shut over the stacks of photocopies left in his care and barged out the door to the common hallways of the apartment building. Leaning against the outer portion of the door frame, legs crossed in seeming boredom, was Ocelot, “I thought you’d never get finished packing your things…” Ocelot kicked Parkes to the ground and back into the apartment space, “It makes the task of pulling together all the juicy bits of information pertinent to the Zendies that much less difficult.”

Parkes scrambled to his feet and ran towards the window near the fire escape, “Leave… leave me alone.” Ocelot sprang into action, “Leave you alone? Do you have any idea how many people are dead because of you? How much damage you caused in your greed?!” She grabbed Parkes by his shirt collar and pulled a handgun on him, shoving the barrel into his mouth by force, “Give me an excuse. Please.” Inarticulate squealing and muttering came from Parkes’ vocal cords while gagged thus.

“Alright, here’s how this is going to go. I’m going to remove the gun from your mouth. You don’t put up any resistance or I swear to Axon I’ll blow your face out the other side of your head!,” Ocelot threatened. Parkes fell to his knees as soon as he was ungagged with the handgun, clutching at Ocelot’s boots and beginning to sob uncontrollably. “What the hell are you doing? Get off the floor!,” Ocelot warned. She grabbed him by his collar again and dragged him to his feet, slamming him against the wall behind them. Parkes was now virtually shivering with terror, desperately clutching at the leather sleeves of Ocelot’s jacket, “Please… Please help me… You don’t know… You don’t know!”

“Help you?! You’re lucky that it’s more expedient to take you in alive and that there are still bigger fish to fry! Who in their right mind would help you do anything after what you did in Isonphis last year! After what you did to Clifford!,” Ocelot objected. Meanwhile, Parkes’ eyes flickered between his immediate captor and another figure standing beside her, one only he could see.

“I’m afraid that you’ve just outlived your usefulness to the New State, Mr. Parkes. If it’s any consolation at all, there was never any hope we would let you live, in the long run of things. You’re a member of this country’s elite, you see. It harms the agenda of Centro Nuovo to allow any of the bestial races of Usea any sort of potential leadership class which could oppose our destiny,” spoke the man only Parkes could perceive. Parkes meanwhile screamed at Ocelot, pointing to the space by her side, “There, right there! Don’t you see! The Wraith… is right there! Taunting you! Kill him now! I beg of you!”

Ocelot looked where Parkes’ finger was pointing in total confusion, “…You have gone completely insane, haven’t you? ‘Wraith’? You’re waving your arm at the still air…!” Wraith met Ocelot’s unseeing eyes with a look of smugness upon his face, “The still air, indeed. Some put their faith only in what they can see or hear. Others say that you should believe none of what you hear… and only half of what you see. But none save a Zendirist can fully appreciate the reality of what can be neither seen nor heard. The currents of destiny, Mr. Parkes. May the New State ever be lifted by it into the future… Shemhamephorash

At the utterance of the word that only he could hear, Parkes went ballistic, screaming at nothing, now truly nothing. Ocelot struggled to manhandle Parkes in this state, “Parkes, get yourself under control or I swear I’ll…!” Before another threat could be spoken, Matthew Parkes began to convulse and froth at the mouth. Before long, all his limbs and his head were violently jerking back and forth. Ocelot let go of his body in surprise, letting it crash against the floor. ”He’s… having a grand mal seizure… But I’m not…,” Ocelot thought to herself, lying him down on the ground and undoing his collar button and tie to maintain the patency of his airways, ”I wasn’t expecting to deal with something like this. I’m not trained to…”

But by then, it didn’t matter anymore. Parkes’ body went limp and slumped over. Ocelot went silent for a full minute, attempting to process the sequence of events, “Damn it… Sorry, Oakley. Maybe Jaguar was right about some things… after all.” She thrust his fist against the wall in exasperation at the futility of her efforts.

Presidential House, Isle of King, Tertania

September 28, 2023, 12:19 PM

“So, allow me to understand this better… On top of everything else that’s happened in this country in the past year… You mean to tell me that an assassin the IAA subcontracted assignments out to… in a deliberate effort to subvert the spirit of the law… is running loose in this country… He’s gone rogue. That he’s working for party or parties unknown to destabilize this government… That your attempt to send another black ops agent in to suppress this rogue actor… is directly responsible for the mass destruction that the Conservative press is touting as yet another failure of my administration to protect the public. You’re telling me all of this now, and you expect me to expand the DTI’s prerogatives even further!”

Tertanian President Allison Lane sat in conference with Andrew Haines, hearing his further national security proposals, “I have half a mind to write up an executive order taking the DTI from your agency and giving it to the ONS! I greenlit the expansion of the IAA into the DTI to make sure that never again would we see another tragedy on the order of Stafford. The people of this country don’t feel safe anymore… Axon knows that Staveley started us down this path, but by heaven, it’s my responsibility to deal with it now.”

The conference room consisted of a circular table emblazoned across the center with the Tertanian national seal, surrounded by 16 armchairs. The room had three windows opening up to over the Presidential House’s lawn, bathing Lane in the light of the sun at noon as she passed among them. Haines was seated at one of the chairs by the table, holding a cup of earl gray tea over a saucer.

Haines took a sip from a cup of tea before continuing his point, “Madam President, you know it is in the operational interests of the IAA to maintain all information regarding ongoing missions, agents, and resources on a… need-to-know basis. Even where concerns your office. You might not like it, but these are the sacrifices that we all have to take to ensure the liberty and safety of millions of Tertanian citizens from extremism!”

“Extremism? You informed me that the Temple of Umbra… or some offshoot at least… were using Maroneda as a base for trafficking nuclear weapons to detonate within Tertanian borders. You made it seem as though this was information that could be concretely established… I authorized the annihilation of that island’s entire population because, at the time, I believed in you! Then what did we learn afterwards when outcry came from the international community? You were working off of a hunch… A hunch that you felt to need to vindicate by declassifying a deceptively censored document. I came into power to ramp down the military-industrial complex that Staveley fed into. Now he can claim to the masses that I’ve gone too far on his re-election bid!,” Lane protested, pacing frantically around the room.

“Madam President, you must know that we have Christopher Staveley under constant surveillance as a figure of interest in the recent black market arms sales that Jaguar has been conducting. We believe he may be a potential supplier of these weapons, linking him to the attack on the Isonphis business district two days before the Stafford incident,” Haines clarified.

“But Staveley himself is not the issue… You’ve used me long enough. On top of all that, I have to contend with this idiot from the Northern Ridnezite separatist government gallivanting around every popular venues on his ‘working state visit’… Right. He’s done nothing but laud Staveley every given opportunity and urge to have my administration practically crucified over your bungling,” Lane said.

Haines sighed in exasperation, “With all due respect, Madam President, may we discuss the original matter that concerns this visit? Agent Craig Oakley went directly against an agency-wide directive and about a half-dozen other national security protocols, by sabotaging our main compound’s own CCTV camera feeds and letting another agent go AWOL for all intents and purposes! These facts are, regardless of their reasons for being carried out, appalling… and demonstrate a massive, gaping hole in our security network! I believe there are ulterior motives behind these actions and would like to proceed with the court-martial of Agent Oakley, as well as an agency-wide audit of our members and a thorough inspection of the software running on the mainframes of our central computer hub!”

“Yes, I suppose this Agent Oakley did go against orders and undermine the chain of command… But he got results, didn’t he? You would have kept this new acquisition of yours, ‘Ocelot’, under wraps… And then would we have been able to locate and confiscate the private communications sent between the Ridnezite New State’s MultiStrat Bureau and the Arelli National State’s Advanced Affairs Association, by the connivance of Matthew Parkes. No, we wouldn’t… As I see it, Director Haines, Agent Oakley simply took matters into his own hands to obtain results that count… When you handled things your way, Fuopolis got attacked by a piece of advanced vehicular weaponry,” Lane stated. The President had now stopped her pacing and stared unemotionally out through one of the conference room windows.

“Madam President… What exactly are you trying to imply here?,” asked a concerned Haines. Lane turned towards Haines and obliged the request for clarification, “Need it be laid out to you in clearer terms? As of now, your duties as Director of the International Affairs Agency are being suspended. Craig Oakley has been appointed as your acting replacement until we can decide… on a more permanent change of staff.”

Haines’ eyes shot open wide, “Madam President, you can’t seriously…? Need I remind you that we now have it as established fact that MultiStrat and the Arelli National State are plotting to assassinate you and Dominic Oberto both at the debt renegotiation summit scheduled next month? I’ve served in this office for years… Oakley is… He’s a wild card… An unknown quantity at this point! You can’t trust him!”

“I apologize, Director Haines, but it appears that exigent circ*mstances have forced me to put my safety… and the future of this country… in the hands of ‘unknown quantities’. If you are displeased by this outcome… Blame yourself. Dismissed!,” shouted President Lane.

Haines regained his composure and waited in the room to finish his tea, then walked out of the conference room with his usual steely expression. The door slammed closed behind him.

Confederation of Corrupt Dictators Board (2024)
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