Red Dagger

[ManBear]

January 2nd, 2007 - Warsaw, Poland - Senat of Poland

"Mr. Marshal, your excellencies, esteemed senators,

When I stood before you in this chamber nearly a year ago to accept the King's appointment as Minister of Media and Digital affairs, voted in by the people of Poland, I made you a promise. I promised to defend not only the sovereignty of our digital borders but also the human dignity of those who cross into them. Even when flesh and blood still trail behind the code. Today, I stand accused of weakening our kingdom. Of inviting danger under the guise of compassion and I stand here today to not deflect those accusations but answer them directly.

Yes, I authorized the issuance of three hundred and twenty seven humanitarian visas to refugees fleeing the Republic of Turkey after its government was overthrown in a military coup. Among those refugees are journalists, engineers, archivists, teachers, and technologies. These are the people, who mere weeks earlier, were helping govern their nation. Today they find themselves fugitives within their own land. Some are Kurdish, some are former leftists, some have faced torture, but all of them faced certain execution or indefinite detention. Not by courts of law but by armored decree. The new regime in Ankara has blacklisted a quarter-million names all because of racial and political motivation in the pretext of counterterrorism. Let me be clear, Senators. Poland does not recognize the PKK. Poland does not fund insurgency. Poland does not tolerate political violence. But Poland also does not, and should not, permit a military regime to dictate our refugee policy through threats and intimidation. We didn't allow the previous regime to do so when they demanded Turkish students be handed over for being subversive.

Our kingdom has no one to fall back on. The Global Assembly has become stagnant and filled with talkers with no backbone for action. We have only our laws, conscience, and our crown. I will not desecrate them by sending scholars and widows back into the arms of a possible firing squad because their names have appeared on some general's spreadsheet. Let us not forget that our Monarchy was restored not by violence but by the principle of the people. The very fact that I stand here. A woman, reformer, and daughter of a coal driver proves that this Kingdom is not afraid of evolution. If we yield now, if we allow Ankara to define who is worth protecting and who is not, then we invite foreign powers to draw lines on our maps and in our ministries. This is not sovereignty. It is servitude.

I will answer your questions. I will comply with any oversight you deem appropriate. But I will not, and should not be asked to, apologize for upholding the law of refuge, a law that predates this kingdom, this Senat, and even this crown.

I ask you with all the respect that is due. Let Poland be brave. Let Poland be just. Let Poland, in this very moment, choose to be better than fear.

Thank you."

The grand chamber of the senat simmered with restless energy as Minister Marta Nowak's voice faded into the heavy silence of the ancient chamber. For a moment, not a single one of the senators dared breach. Then, swelling like the tides of Gydnia's beaches, applause broke out. First hesitant and then resolute, the benches occupied by the Progressive Alliance and their allies became an uproar of positive emotion. Faces once stoic, softened and eyes brightened with the fires of conviction. Some senators exchanged glances between one another that spoke of personal memories and shared ideals, their clapping echoing the weight of history behind their cause.

Across the hall, the Democratic Monarchist Alliance watched with tempered respect, their applause was polite but measured as if restrained by years of cautious governance and tempered loyalty to the Crown. Senator Janusz Raczynski nodded subtly, his eyes reflecting a grudging acknowledgement of Marta's principles. Yet beneath the surface questions lingered. How would these ideals translate to action without fracturing the fragile trust and balance within the kingdom?

In stark contrast to the rest, a wave of tension swept through the Patriotic Action Party. Arms folded tight, jaws clenches, a few senators even rose abruptly and strode out. Their departure would cast an obvious shadow across the chamber. Their silence was louder than words. It was a palpable rebuke and behind the stern faces there whispered words of dissent that began weaving through the corridors. Words that spoke of national security, borders betrayed, and a Kingdom at risk.

Masrhal Bogdan Lesiak sat unmoved. His face a mask of solemn neutrality. When he finally spoke his voice was steady and carefully measured, as if to temper the storm raging beneath the chamber's vaulted ceilings. "The Minister's statement has been noted and will be entered into the record. The Senat thanks the Minister for her transparency and for her service." His words were a call to decorum, but their quiet gravity held the weight of the fragile peace of the chamber.

Outside the chamber, the city buzzed. Newspapers ran headlines torn between praise and alarm. The air of uncertainty spread form the marble halls of power to the crowded cafes and tram stops. Yet, in the quiet offices of the Ministry of Media and Digital Affairs, Marta Nowak stood resolute. She was aware that this moment was only the beginning. It was a crucible in which the Kingdom of Poland's future would be forged.

---

January 5th, 2007 - Office of State Protection, Warsaw, Poland

The Chief's office was a study in understated authority. Polish dark wood paneling lined the walls, interrupted only by framed commendations and a large, detailed map of the Kingdom's key strategic sites. A sleek mahogany desk stod near the center, organized and featured a brand new computer boasting the Kingdom of Poland's highest encrypted standards.

Sitting behind the desk was Chief Commander Marek Sobczak, his posture straight and expression unreadable. Standing before him in crisp military fashion was a Captain Jakub Krawiec, his eyes maintained a level of alertness often seen in protection agents.

"Effective immediately," Chief Sobczak began, voice calm and commander, "you are being appointed EPO to Minister Marta Nowak. Her current EPO is being reassigned following that security blunder leaving the Senat chamber after he meeting there." A group of journalists had somehow gotten around the protective line and managed to get within the Senat chamber itself without clearance. An obvious fuckup on Lieutenant Blaszczyk's part. "Given the Minister's Senat address and the anticipated increase in threats, your operational experience and judgement in previous details will prove critical moving forward."

Jakub met his gaze with steady contact. "Understood sir. I will do my duty to the Crown."

With a slight nod, Sobczak stood. "Good, you're expected to report to the Ministry of Media and Digital Affairs effective immediately to perform the handover of duties with the current EPO. Keep your head on a swivel, Krawiec."

Jakub nodded and turned smoothly on his heel in military fashion, some habits are hard to break. The polished floor of The Office reflected the sharp tap of his shoes as he left the room, his mind already shifting to the challenges that lay ahead of him.

---

January 5th, 2007 - Ministry of Media and Digital Affairs, Warsaw, Poland

With his earpiece in his ear, service Glock in the holster at his hip and two spare magazines, Jakub waited outside the rear entrance to the Ministry of Media and Digital Affairs for the principle's car to arrive. Typically it was a two car convoy with backup agents and a medic in the rear vehicle and the principle and her EPO in the lead vehicle. It didn't take long for the vehicles to pull to a stop and the former EPO to step out.

"Kawiec. Good to see you. I understand you are taking over for me after my fuck up, huh. Watch out for her, she's one who likes to ride her high horse fast and loose." The lieutenant had stepped out to shake his hand and officially hand over the duties to Jakub.

"Shit happens. Wasn't your fault the Policja couldn't maintain a perimeter to save their lives. Take some time and get your head straight and I'm sure they'll get you a new detail soon enough."

With that Jakub stepped forward and opened the door and allowed the Minister to step out of the car.

"And you are?" Her curt question was directed towards Jakub, her steps and she continued to the voice echoed through the empty alleyway.

"Captain Jakub Kawiec, Madam Minister. I'll be your new EPO from now on. I'd like to discuss your security protocols when you get a chance, ma'am." He followed close behind, familiar weight of his loaded pistol on his belt and a keen eye always on the lookout for threats.

The Minister didn't even look at Jakub when she responded. "Yes, yes in all due time, Captain. But at the moment I'm late for an important meeting."

---

January 6th, 2007 - PKP Intercity Line: Lodz-Central Warsaw - Between Lodz and Warsaw

The sun had barely crested the horizon when the PKP Intercity Express 6120 pulled out of Lodz Fabryczna, its silver carriages glided along the steal rails. Inside the cars were diplomats, officials, and commuters returning to Warsaw following a weekend away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Each was settled into the comfort of high-speed travel bound for their primary residences and jobs in Warsaw. Among them were several senior analysts from the Ministry of Media and Digital Affairs, including officials tasked with overseeing classified encryption programs tied to the Polish Royal Network.

They would never make it.

At 7:52 in the morning, arriving just outside Skierniewice, the train's quiet and rhythmic hum was suddenly shatted by a deep concussive blast. Carriage 3 violently exploded outwards, vaporizing everyone inside it. A wave of fire and shrapnel tore through the adjoining cars, sending even more shards of metal and glass hurtling intoi the fields beyond. The large explosion released a fireball high into the sky and cracked windows as far as the nearby highway. The rest of the train did not fair better as it was derailed violently, sending screeching steel and twisting metal across the tracks.

Emergency response teams were on site within twenty minutes. Dozens were found dead, including the team of senior analysts. Some bodies, those close to the explosion could only be identified as bodies by scorched fragments of bones embedded in bodies and the twisted chassis itself. The scene was quickly declared a Level 1 National Emergency. It would not take long for the Office of State Protection to take control of the scene over from local policja forces and begin their own investigation. As black smoke spiraled into the morning sky, CCTV footage from the previous stations were quickly gathered. Within a few hours there was footage of a man boarding Carriage 3, mid thirties, heavy jacket, no luggage. Facial recognition algorithms flagged him with an 85% probability as Kemal Hazar, an ethnic Kurd who had been issued one of the Senator Marek's Digital Refugee visas. The Office of State Protection would reach out to the Turkish Government to better identify the man.

Though unconfirmed, speculation spread rapidly throughout Poland. Right-winged citizens would use social media tying the event to Kurdish separatist terror. Back in Warsaw, the King would summon his Council of Ministers to discuss the situation. At the same time, OSP were working to locate Kemal Hazar's place of residency, with the failures of the digital visa safeguarding pertinent information, to save the asylum seekers from spies of the new Turkish government.

As investigators sifted through the wreckage, a more troubled thread began to emerge. Initial forensics suggested military-grade explosives, the king not typically accessible to the insurgent groups acting alone. And in the wreckage of Carriage 3, a scorched but partially intact was the casing of a classified ministry-issued laptop, the encryption routines on it redacted from even the Office of State Protection logs.

 

[ManBear]

Warsaw, Poland - January 7, 2007

The sirens had barely faded over the twisted tracks of the PKP high-speed line when the political fault lines within the Kingdom of Poland began to crack wide open. In Warsaw, smoke still lingered in the air as emergency crews continued to pick through the twisted steel and charred debris, the death toll rising with each passing hour. The Monarchy had moved quickly. Security briefings were being held in hushed tones beneath the royal palace, cabinet ministers summoned at dawn, and a heavy Policja presence descended on public spaces to project control.

Inside the marbled halls of government, the fear had metastasized into suspicion.

Then came the leak.

Late on the evening of the 7th, a trove of classified internal documents surfaced in the inboxes of select media outlets. Originating from the Office of State Protection, the files alleged that Marta Nowak's controversial "digital asylym initiative", which had granted sanctuary and encrypted access to dissidents and whistleblowers, had created blind spots in national surveillance systems. Buried in the reports were names, redactions, and vague connections to foreign actors. The implication was clear. The very infrastructure meant to defend digital freedom may have offered to cover violent extremists.

The political firestorm was immediate and all-consuming. Sejm exploded in accusations and counteraccusations. Opposition leaders demanded Marta's resignation while her allies insisted the leak was a smear campaign engineered by hardliners long opposed to her progressive platform. On state television, pundits debated over darkened graphics showing blurred faces and digital maps pulsing with threat vectors. Hashtags trended, protests erupted, and conspiracy theories flourished.

Meanwhile, inside the Royal Council, trust splintered. Some ministers whispered of betrayal and others of sabotage. And as the monarchy was caught between defending its liberal vanguard and appeasing the old guards, the Kingdom was found on the precipice of something darker than chaos: paralysis.

---

As the Kingdom reeled from the fallout of the high-speed rail bombing, Jakub Kawiec, recently assigned to Minister Marta's protection detail as her EPO, found himself walking a tightrope between duty and conscience. Officially he had been tasked with the personal security of Minister Marta Nowak, whose forward thinking digital policies had made her a beacon of progressive hope but also a lightning rod for conservative fury. As the leaked documents came to light, Jakub took it upon himself to look over them, not as a conspiracy nutjob hoping to find something that doesn't add up but with the leaking of national intelligence documents could jeopardize his principle's safety and make her an even bigger target.

The leaked documents had indeed started a storm from their revelations. Jakub could feel their impact ripple through the corridors of power. The information, carefully selected and strategically released, painted Marta's asylum program as a gateway for extremists. Jakub didn't care whether the information was accurate or not but he did know one thing for certain. In the court of public opinion, perception was often reality. He watched as whispers turned into accusations and support curdled into suspicion. The leak wasn't just a political weapon, it was a beacon for drawing hostility and danger towards Marta herself. Jakub understood that such exposure could embolden adversaries in both politics and on the street to act against her. Protecting her was no longer about standing guard during speeches or official events. It meant anticipating threats born from fear, anger, and misinformation. Every glance over his shoulder, every tightened security detail felt heavier now. Jakub's role had expanded from bodyguard to shield against an unseen force. One fueled by not just facts but by the volatile power of leaked secrets.

---

Warsaw, Poland - January 9th, 2007

The morning had started like any other for Jakub. Waking alone in his apartment with a picture of his estranged family smiling at him from his bedside table. Now he found himself standing in the biting cold of the frigid January air wearing a heavy coat to protect the rest of his body. Though the city hummed with tension from the recent bombing and the storm of leaked documents, Jakub's focus was sharp, trained on the routing movements and security protocols that had become second nature. Like, when the Minister appeared from the building she resided in, Jakub would insure the door was open in case there was an attack. That way he would be able to get his principle into the armored vehicle quickly. He would quickly shut the door and look around the street from over the sedan before moving around the vehicle to the front passenger seat and sitting down next to the driver. The rest of the protection agents would mount up in the two other vehicles, Jakub having requested additional support following the leaked documents now that there was an even bigger crosshair on the Minister's back. With his index and middle finger extended he motioned from the driver to begin the route to the Ministry of Media and Digital Affairs.

"Silver Raven on the move." he spoke into the microphone clipped to the lapel of his suit jacket under his heavy coat. A quick examination of the vehicle showed the FB Beryl-Mini attached to the side of the passenger footwell and an opening of the glove box showed the three spare magazines for the rifle. Ministerial vehicles are armored and armed in preparation for anything.

"Fifteen minutes until we get to the Silver Raven's roost." He spoke once more into the microphone.

Then his world transformed into bright oranges, reds, and yellows as the lead vehicle was launched into the air by a large explosive. He hadn't noticed anything on the ground so it must have been either a pedestrian or another vehicle. He didn't have time to ponder that question as the solid thuds of heavy bullets impacting the bullet proof glass brought him back to the danger he found himself in.

"Breached shield, breached shield." His call went over the radio and into the heart of the Office of State Protection directorate responsible for protection details of Ministers and Foreign Dignitaries. They would know what it meant but probably had never experienced it before. A frantic reply came back over the headset. "Breached Shield confirmed. BOA has been informed. Sitrep."

"Vehicle one on fire hit by explosive device. Taking small arms fire from south and north side of road. Ballistic glass holding but we are stuck in traffic."

Another explosion ripped through the once tranquil streets as explosion ripped apart the pavement between the Minister's vehicle and the rear vehicle, sending the armored sedan containing the Minister, Jakub, and the driver over the engine bay and landing on the roof. Jakub acted quickly and unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled the FB Beryl rifle from its holdings in the footwell before opening the glove box and sending the magazines cascading to the roof of the vehicle. He was quick to place them in his pockets as he positioned himself to kick his door open. He heard the gunfire even more so now that two of the ballistic windows had shattered on impact. With a forceful kick, bracing himself on the driver's body, the door gave way and he was able to crawl out. Several rounds impacted the hardened bottom of the sedan as he leaned against the side of the overturned sedan. The smell of a sharp, acrid, and chemical odor with hints of burnt plastic, ammonia, and a faint metallic tang greeted Jakub as he prepared to engage targets. The rear vehicle, an armored SUV, had its doors open with agents inside engaging targets as they appeared.

Jakub felt the familiar recoil of the FB Beryl-Mini as he began returning fire towards the armed militants as they advanced through the busy street. This wasn't like the movies where bullets went twenty seven different ways. This was a real close quarters firefight. Blood leaked onto the asphalt as terrorists fell from 5.56x45mm rounds and Jakub was forced to take cover more than once as shrapnel from disintegrated bullets bit into his skin. In the real world firefights can last hours but unfortunately for the terrorists, BOA was not far away and the sirens could be heard getting louder as they approached. It wouldn't take long for the heavily armed counter-terrorism police force to arrive on scene and begin mopping up. Ambulances and firetrucks wouldn't be long.