- May 4, 2021
- 2,401
A Call for Thaksin
The hum of an urgent call reverberated through the Prime Minister's office, a space both opulent and functional. Thaksin, seated with his assistant Minnie, was the epicenter of this sudden disturbance.
"Thaksin!" Minnie's voice pierced the room, her finger jabbing towards the desk screen. "It's an emergency call from the Chief of Defense Force!" Her tone, laden with astonishment and fear, mirrored the weight of the moment.
"What could it be at this hour?" While surprise flickered in Thaksin's eyes, his composure remained unshaken, a calm veneer over his mounting anxiety. A click punctuated the tense air.
"Prime Minister, this is the Chief of Defense Forces and Supreme Commander of the Thai Armed Forces, Songkitti Jaggabatara," the voice on the other end was grave, laden with urgency. "A helicopter from the 2nd Air Assault Squadron will land at the Government House shortly. Your presence is required in the War Room immediately. IMA is now in effect." The line went dead.
Heart pounding, Thaksin exchanged a look with Minnie, her eyes brimming with tears. After a moment, he broke the heavy silence. "Minnie, clear my schedule for today!" With that, he stood abruptly and strode out of the room.
"Yes!" Minnie echoed, hastening to her adjoining office. As Thaksin reached the door, he was met by an NIA agent, a silent sentinel at the threshold of unfolding events.
"Prime Minister, please allow me to escort you," the man offered, receiving a nod of gratitude from Thaksin. "The ACDC has spotted a significant naval presence in NK waters, near the Andaman Sea," he relayed as they navigated the storied corridors of the Thai Government House.
Their passage didn't go unnoticed. Each person they passed shared a glance heavy with apprehension with Thaksin. "The 701st Air Control Squadron lacks direct surface vessel visualization, yet intelligence and formation patterns point to a carrier strike group."
Descending the grand staircase, under the watchful eyes of the staff and security personnel already in position, a sense of foreboding hung in the air. "Whose flag are these vessels sailing under? British or American?" Thaksin inquired, casting a wary glance at the agent.
"The fleet's size and their sophisticated maneuvers suggest U.S. origins," the agent reported, at the same time, the head of security stepped forward with a crisp salute to Thaksin.
"The helicopter is ready, Prime Minister," he stated, stepping aside to clear Thaksin's path. The agent added, "Efforts to establish high-level communications are underway."
As they emerged from the building, the camouflaged helicopter's thunderous engine seemed to echo the turmoil of the moment. "What's their objective, their intention?" Thaksin questioned, halting in his tracks.
The agent, hands in pockets, turned his gaze southwestward. "A show of force," he mused. "It seems likely their intelligence network might be too compromised to grasp our latest developments." The helicopter touched down, its presence a stark reminder of the unfolding geopolitical chess game.
A soldier, embodying both readiness and resolve, emerged from the helicopter. With a crisp salute, he announced, "Prime Minister, we'll be taking care of your forward." His gaze briefly locked with the NIA agent's, a silent exchange of duty and respect. Thaksin nodded in acknowledgment, turning to the agent. "Thank you for the briefing. May peace be with us." His voice, steady and assured, was met with an echo, "May peace be with us, Prime Minister."
As Thaksin ascended into the helicopter, the pilot greeted him warmly. "Rest assured, Prime Minister. Sky Serpents and Republic Shield guard your back, while the Truth Scribes document our journey." The helicopter's rotors whirred to life, a mechanical heartbeat in the tense atmosphere.
"Thank you," Thaksin replied, his eyes drifting left to the Public Affair Unit. "But is such a special force necessary? What justifies these severe measures?" His tone carried the weight of his authority, unchallenged in this airborne sanctuary.
"The tension between Thailand and America, and by extension, the East-West dynamic, is at an unprecedented peak," the man explained, offering a tablet to Thaksin. The screen displayed graphs and briefs. "Our democratic foundations might be similar, but our interpretations are worlds apart." He settled back into his seat, tablet in hand.
Leaning back, Thaksin's gaze swept over Bangkok's sprawling metropolis below, a hive of ceaseless activity and Thailand's commercial heartbeat. He pondered the city's vibrancy, aspiring to extend such prosperity to other regions. Turning back, his inquiry continued. "What's the public sentiment regarding our military posture?"
The man paused, his eyes reflecting a moment of contemplation. "The people's support hinges on Finance Minister Korn's success with the national debt," he replied. "Your high approval ratings are a testament to their faith."
Thaksin nodded, his thoughts momentarily anchored in the memories of past conflicts. The echo of the Fourth Indochina War, with its cacophony of loss and sacrifice, still resonated in his mind. He opened his eyes as the helicopter gently touched down, the transition as smooth as it was swift.
“Prime Minister, we’ve arrived,” announced a member of the Republic’s Shield, his voice steady. Rising to his feet, Thaksin felt the weight of the moment settle upon him. The soldier, FN-Scar L in hand reflecting a muted glint, stood ready. “Shall we?” he prompted, his posture a blend of respect and readiness.
Thaksin stepped out of the helicopter, the brisk air a sharp contrast to the cabin’s-controlled environment. Many military officers stood before him, each one saluting. “At rest.” He commanded. “Dismiss and escort me.” They followed his order preciously with discipline.
The halls of the Thai Armed Forces Headquarters were lined with aides and military personnel, their expressions a mix of resolve and anxiety. As Thaksin passed, murmurs hushed, and salutes were crisply rendered—a testament to the gravity of the situation.
Upon entering the War Room, Thaksin was met with a tableau of intense focus. Officers and advisors huddled over maps and screens, their attention riveted on the unfolding scenario. The room buzzed with a tense energy, each person acutely aware of the stakes at hand.
Thaksin took his place at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over the assembled team. “Report,” he commanded, his voice carrying both authority and expectation. The room fell silent, all eyes on him, as the briefing began.
"Thaksin!" Minnie's voice pierced the room, her finger jabbing towards the desk screen. "It's an emergency call from the Chief of Defense Force!" Her tone, laden with astonishment and fear, mirrored the weight of the moment.
"What could it be at this hour?" While surprise flickered in Thaksin's eyes, his composure remained unshaken, a calm veneer over his mounting anxiety. A click punctuated the tense air.
"Prime Minister, this is the Chief of Defense Forces and Supreme Commander of the Thai Armed Forces, Songkitti Jaggabatara," the voice on the other end was grave, laden with urgency. "A helicopter from the 2nd Air Assault Squadron will land at the Government House shortly. Your presence is required in the War Room immediately. IMA is now in effect." The line went dead.
Heart pounding, Thaksin exchanged a look with Minnie, her eyes brimming with tears. After a moment, he broke the heavy silence. "Minnie, clear my schedule for today!" With that, he stood abruptly and strode out of the room.
"Yes!" Minnie echoed, hastening to her adjoining office. As Thaksin reached the door, he was met by an NIA agent, a silent sentinel at the threshold of unfolding events.
"Prime Minister, please allow me to escort you," the man offered, receiving a nod of gratitude from Thaksin. "The ACDC has spotted a significant naval presence in NK waters, near the Andaman Sea," he relayed as they navigated the storied corridors of the Thai Government House.
Their passage didn't go unnoticed. Each person they passed shared a glance heavy with apprehension with Thaksin. "The 701st Air Control Squadron lacks direct surface vessel visualization, yet intelligence and formation patterns point to a carrier strike group."
Descending the grand staircase, under the watchful eyes of the staff and security personnel already in position, a sense of foreboding hung in the air. "Whose flag are these vessels sailing under? British or American?" Thaksin inquired, casting a wary glance at the agent.
"The fleet's size and their sophisticated maneuvers suggest U.S. origins," the agent reported, at the same time, the head of security stepped forward with a crisp salute to Thaksin.
"The helicopter is ready, Prime Minister," he stated, stepping aside to clear Thaksin's path. The agent added, "Efforts to establish high-level communications are underway."
As they emerged from the building, the camouflaged helicopter's thunderous engine seemed to echo the turmoil of the moment. "What's their objective, their intention?" Thaksin questioned, halting in his tracks.
The agent, hands in pockets, turned his gaze southwestward. "A show of force," he mused. "It seems likely their intelligence network might be too compromised to grasp our latest developments." The helicopter touched down, its presence a stark reminder of the unfolding geopolitical chess game.
A soldier, embodying both readiness and resolve, emerged from the helicopter. With a crisp salute, he announced, "Prime Minister, we'll be taking care of your forward." His gaze briefly locked with the NIA agent's, a silent exchange of duty and respect. Thaksin nodded in acknowledgment, turning to the agent. "Thank you for the briefing. May peace be with us." His voice, steady and assured, was met with an echo, "May peace be with us, Prime Minister."
As Thaksin ascended into the helicopter, the pilot greeted him warmly. "Rest assured, Prime Minister. Sky Serpents and Republic Shield guard your back, while the Truth Scribes document our journey." The helicopter's rotors whirred to life, a mechanical heartbeat in the tense atmosphere.
"Thank you," Thaksin replied, his eyes drifting left to the Public Affair Unit. "But is such a special force necessary? What justifies these severe measures?" His tone carried the weight of his authority, unchallenged in this airborne sanctuary.
"The tension between Thailand and America, and by extension, the East-West dynamic, is at an unprecedented peak," the man explained, offering a tablet to Thaksin. The screen displayed graphs and briefs. "Our democratic foundations might be similar, but our interpretations are worlds apart." He settled back into his seat, tablet in hand.
Leaning back, Thaksin's gaze swept over Bangkok's sprawling metropolis below, a hive of ceaseless activity and Thailand's commercial heartbeat. He pondered the city's vibrancy, aspiring to extend such prosperity to other regions. Turning back, his inquiry continued. "What's the public sentiment regarding our military posture?"
The man paused, his eyes reflecting a moment of contemplation. "The people's support hinges on Finance Minister Korn's success with the national debt," he replied. "Your high approval ratings are a testament to their faith."
Thaksin nodded, his thoughts momentarily anchored in the memories of past conflicts. The echo of the Fourth Indochina War, with its cacophony of loss and sacrifice, still resonated in his mind. He opened his eyes as the helicopter gently touched down, the transition as smooth as it was swift.
“Prime Minister, we’ve arrived,” announced a member of the Republic’s Shield, his voice steady. Rising to his feet, Thaksin felt the weight of the moment settle upon him. The soldier, FN-Scar L in hand reflecting a muted glint, stood ready. “Shall we?” he prompted, his posture a blend of respect and readiness.
Thaksin stepped out of the helicopter, the brisk air a sharp contrast to the cabin’s-controlled environment. Many military officers stood before him, each one saluting. “At rest.” He commanded. “Dismiss and escort me.” They followed his order preciously with discipline.
The halls of the Thai Armed Forces Headquarters were lined with aides and military personnel, their expressions a mix of resolve and anxiety. As Thaksin passed, murmurs hushed, and salutes were crisply rendered—a testament to the gravity of the situation.
Upon entering the War Room, Thaksin was met with a tableau of intense focus. Officers and advisors huddled over maps and screens, their attention riveted on the unfolding scenario. The room buzzed with a tense energy, each person acutely aware of the stakes at hand.
Thaksin took his place at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over the assembled team. “Report,” he commanded, his voice carrying both authority and expectation. The room fell silent, all eyes on him, as the briefing began.
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