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RPG-D

The Proscription of Mussolini and Marx

Logan

Senior
Jul 1, 2018
995
"Abandoned" Warehouse
2100 Local Time
Roma
Roman Empire


The and the three Majors on his staff rolled up on the warehouse, which on the outside looked as if it hadn't been used since the Second World War. To the untrained, unknowledgeable eye, the four men, wearing polos and slacks and work boots, would probably appear to be professionals of some kind, maybe inspectors or insurance adjusters. Certainly, there was no indication who these men actually worked for, and what they were doing in this nondescript, abandoned warehouse. Even the car they drove, an Alfa-Romeo 155, wasn't too out of place in the country's capital and economic center, wouldn't be too odd to be in the ownership of a group of businessmen. The tags were government, but only a cop could tell the difference. Their identity out here was truly safe, which was good.

As they walked through the rusted, creaking metal door, they entered a dim room, lit up only by a pair of floodlights on the far end. Still, nothing was too visible in the room as they entered, and the only sound they could hear was the loud reverberating sound of Italian disco music, loud enough to make talking hard walking in, going any closer to it would've almost certainly been deafening. As they entered the room, a pair of guards checked all of their credentials, before allowing them to walk around the slightly-transparent curtains and into the facility they were visiting.

Inside the facility was an array of 30 beds, arranged into 5 rows of 3, each neighbored by a desk. Chained to each of the beds was a someone adorned in a black or red jumpsuit, with the jumpsuits being very basic, and having no pockets. some were laying down on their beds, while others were sitting at their desks, writing, doodling, or literally doing anything to pass the day. All of them appeared sleep-deprived, light deprived, and under a lot of stress. Some of them had the rumpled look of a young marxist, while others' conditions belied that they were formerly very well-conditioned, and many carried the faux-military bearing of fascist footsoldiers.

"Gentlemen," said the Colonel, proud, if somewhat amused, look on his face, "This is Black Site Echo. We call it Camp Velum."
 
Last edited:

Logan

Senior
Jul 1, 2018
995
The Colonel walked up to one of the prisoners, gesturing towards him as the majors follow, "The Empire does not look kindly on these men, and once they are properly established, the army will be handing this facility over to the IPC." He motioned for an earmuff-clad guard to turn the music off as he led the two majors into a small area consisting of a couple of desks with a pair of computers and a pair of filing cabinets. "Until they are prepared to take over, you two will be in charge of this facility." He'd turn their chairs to one direction and grab another chair from nearby. "Your primary mission is interrogation. I want you to find out what you can from these prisoners. If they have any compatriots that we overlooked, I want names. If they've left any caches, I want to know where. Our nation is finally becoming stabilized, and I want to make sure that none of these bastards can threaten it." He'd pull out an unmarked envelope, revealing a thick set of documents marked "Classified," saying, "Here are your orders, straight from the Imperator Militaris. Remember that secrecy and discretion are essential for this operation. If it appears this operation may be compromised, I am giving you two the authority to enact the Termination and Destruction protocol on Page 115. Don't fail the Eternal City. Don't fail Rome."
 

Logan

Senior
Jul 1, 2018
995
A Pair of men wearing white cloaks walked into the warehouse, followed by a few men wearing black military fatigues. "This is an operation of the IPC, now." As they said such, the fatigue-wearing military men took up positions along the perimeter, as one of the cloaked men grabbed one of the prisoners wearing a red jumpsuit, throwing him to the ground and firing three rounds from a suppressed Beretta AR-70/90 into his head.

"To the Prisoners, you shall give us what we want, or we shall pay your fare to hell."

He grabbed another prisoner, wearing a black jumpsuit this time, repeating his actions with the red jumpsuited person.

"Any person who can give me five pieces of actionable intel might just see the light of day again."
 

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