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Administrators are in-charge of the forums overall, ensuring it remains updated, fresh and constantly growing.
Administrator: Jamie
Administrator: Hollie
Moderators support the Administration Team, assisting with a variety of tasks whilst remaining a liason, a link between Roleplayers and the Staff Team.
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Have a Question?
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[Russia]: Message for Turkey
- Thread starter Zak
- Start date
- Oct 3, 2018
- 3,357
Ankara Esenboğa Airport – 03:24 a.m.
The Turkish government jet touched down on Runway 19 with the conclusion of talks in Moscow. Minister Yusuf Koç, overworked and sleep-deprived, leaned back in his leather seat, adjusting the cuff of his shirt as the aircraft taxied to a halt. The visit to Moscow had gone better than expected, perhaps not a breakthrough, but a signal that Türkiye still had some leverage to keep the Russian bear at bay.
The moment the cabin door opened, the cool Ankara winter night spilled in. He descended the stairs briskly, flanked by two close aides and a security detail of four. A black government SUV awaited him at the tarmac. On the other side he could see aircrafts taking off to some distant destination he imagined.
Inside the vehicle, Koç loosened his tie. “Set up a debrief for 9 a.m. with the President. We’ll need to get the Russians’ proposal recorded and then to discuss it with her.”
“Yes, Minister,” his aide Doçe replied from the passenger seat, typing quickly into a secure tablet.
As the convoy pulled out of the airport perimeter, something caught Koç’s eye. Overhead, two ATAK helicopters passed in low formation with their lights off, flying tight and fast toward the city’s southern districts. A few seconds later, two more followed.
Koç frowned. “Did we authorize night air operations over Ankara?”
“N sir,” Doçe answered, puzzled. “No flight notice came through central command. Perhaps the military is doing their own exercise.”
Koç sat forward. “Call Defense Operations Command. Now.”
Doçe tapped into the secure line. No signal. She tried again, still nothing. That was when the motorcade slowed.
Up ahead, just past the beltway overpass, a line of armored vehicles blocked the main road, Leopard 2 tanks and Kirpi MRAPs, backlit by streetlamps. Turkish soldiers in combat gear waved flashlights at the approaching convoy.
“What the hell is this?” Koç muttered. “Tell them this is the Minister of the Interior. Have them clear the road.”
One of the guards lowered his window and flashed his badge. “Interior Ministry detail. Step aside!”
But the soldiers didn’t move. Instead, one of them approached, scanning the windshield with a flashlight. He signaled to another soldier, who carried a list and a stack of cards.
Match: YUSUF KOÇ
Status: Detain on Sight
Referral Code: Kobani
The officer’s expression tightened. “Step out of the vehicle, Minister.”
Koç’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you understand who I am.”
“I do, sir,” the officer said coldly. “You’re under arrest by order of the Turkish National Security Council.”
Guns were drawn swiftly on the vehicle. The convoy’s guards hesitated but were outnumbered five to one. One reached for his weapon before being dragged to the pavement by a soldier.
Koç remained still as the rear door opened. A soldier motioned him out. The Minister stepped down slowly, surrounded by his own men falling to their knees, being disarmed one by one. In the distance, more helicopters thundered overhead, their blades cutting through the night sky toward the city center.
Koç looked up at them, his jaw clenched. He had been gone for several days...but there was no mention of this. How the hell did they organize this, he thought as he was taken away in handcuffs.
The Turkish government jet touched down on Runway 19 with the conclusion of talks in Moscow. Minister Yusuf Koç, overworked and sleep-deprived, leaned back in his leather seat, adjusting the cuff of his shirt as the aircraft taxied to a halt. The visit to Moscow had gone better than expected, perhaps not a breakthrough, but a signal that Türkiye still had some leverage to keep the Russian bear at bay.
The moment the cabin door opened, the cool Ankara winter night spilled in. He descended the stairs briskly, flanked by two close aides and a security detail of four. A black government SUV awaited him at the tarmac. On the other side he could see aircrafts taking off to some distant destination he imagined.
Inside the vehicle, Koç loosened his tie. “Set up a debrief for 9 a.m. with the President. We’ll need to get the Russians’ proposal recorded and then to discuss it with her.”
“Yes, Minister,” his aide Doçe replied from the passenger seat, typing quickly into a secure tablet.
As the convoy pulled out of the airport perimeter, something caught Koç’s eye. Overhead, two ATAK helicopters passed in low formation with their lights off, flying tight and fast toward the city’s southern districts. A few seconds later, two more followed.
Koç frowned. “Did we authorize night air operations over Ankara?”
“N sir,” Doçe answered, puzzled. “No flight notice came through central command. Perhaps the military is doing their own exercise.”
Koç sat forward. “Call Defense Operations Command. Now.”
Doçe tapped into the secure line. No signal. She tried again, still nothing. That was when the motorcade slowed.
Up ahead, just past the beltway overpass, a line of armored vehicles blocked the main road, Leopard 2 tanks and Kirpi MRAPs, backlit by streetlamps. Turkish soldiers in combat gear waved flashlights at the approaching convoy.
“What the hell is this?” Koç muttered. “Tell them this is the Minister of the Interior. Have them clear the road.”
One of the guards lowered his window and flashed his badge. “Interior Ministry detail. Step aside!”
But the soldiers didn’t move. Instead, one of them approached, scanning the windshield with a flashlight. He signaled to another soldier, who carried a list and a stack of cards.
Match: YUSUF KOÇ
Status: Detain on Sight
Referral Code: Kobani
The officer’s expression tightened. “Step out of the vehicle, Minister.”
Koç’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you understand who I am.”
“I do, sir,” the officer said coldly. “You’re under arrest by order of the Turkish National Security Council.”
Guns were drawn swiftly on the vehicle. The convoy’s guards hesitated but were outnumbered five to one. One reached for his weapon before being dragged to the pavement by a soldier.
Koç remained still as the rear door opened. A soldier motioned him out. The Minister stepped down slowly, surrounded by his own men falling to their knees, being disarmed one by one. In the distance, more helicopters thundered overhead, their blades cutting through the night sky toward the city center.
Koç looked up at them, his jaw clenched. He had been gone for several days...but there was no mention of this. How the hell did they organize this, he thought as he was taken away in handcuffs.
