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[Ukr] Make the World Blind

ManBear

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626
Once the plane had come to a complete stop on the Tarmac, Polish Policja and Soldiers would drive a set of stairs to the front left door, the one located behind the cockpit, before the Policja quickly climbed the stairs and entered the plane.

"May I have everyone's attention. I apologize for the inconvenience but please remain seated. We have an active investigation taken place and if you interfere, you will be arrested." He would repeat this as he walked through the isles ahead of the soldiers with only holstered pistols at their side. The lead soldier had something taped to his left forearms and as he walked he would compare whatever it was with the older male passengers until they stopped beside the Prime Minister.

"Sir, raise your hands above your head and stand up slowly. You are under arrest. Please remain quiet until we are off the plane."

The soldier would produce a pair of steel handcuffs from his pocket before placing a hand on the wrist of the Prime Minister, to help him out into the isle of the plane. As the soldier helped the Prime Minister, three Policja moved past to keep any possible unruly passengers from interfering. No firearms were in their possession. Just collapsible batons that would inflict pain and broken bones but not permanently harm anyone.

______________________

"You will have it once you land." The man nodded as he got back into the front seat of the van with another GROM soldier. Once everyone was on board the aircraft, the vehicles would drive back to the road and begin the trip back to their base. The the GROM soldiers would be sure to sit the family and the agent next to each other, in the hopes of making them feel more comfortable with the ride. The engines whined as they helicopter gently left the ground and began rotating towards the safe house location. A farm house procured by the Ministry of Defense to act as a safe haven for VIPs. Once they were fully in the air, the soldiers would give the family and the agent a set of earmuffs with a microphone to allow them to talk to each other or the soldiers.

After an hour flight, the helicopter would begin descending before setting gently down on the front yard of an older house with a single black Mercedez-Benz sitting in the driveway. Two men in civilian clothing would step out of the house carrying FB Mini-Beryls in their hands. The first would move to the helicopter and help the family climb out of it while the second opened the rear of the SUV and pulled two black duffel bags out of it.

"Zdravstvuyte, friends. I am Pies and this is Kot. We will be assisting your own bodyguard in protecting you until your safe passage back to Ukraine can be achieved. Inside this duffel bag you will find a spare change of clothes for each of you." His Polish was one that hinted he was raised in a rural area. He raised the first bag before looking at the agent. "This bag is for you. It has four ballistic vests, a MP5 submachine gun with five spare magazines, a couple boxes of ammunition, an encrypted radio and headset, and a USP pistol with three magazines. As for the first aide kits, there are several throughout the house. We will walk you through to make sure you know where everything is." He raised the bag to hand it to the Agent. "Pizza anyone?"

GingeOrCringe
 
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GingeOrCringe

Junior
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Messages
616
Perfect, thought Prime Minister Yanukovych as the Polish forces entered. A Police and military escort was just what someone of his status deserved. His smile disintegrated as the lead soldier announced that he was under arrest.

He would raise his hands as he had been asked, but would not abide by the order to remain silent. “Just wait a moment, is this really necessary? I understand you-” The cold metal clinked around his wrists. “Okay, okay, I get it,” he groaned. This was not Viktor Yanukovych’s first time in handcuffs, but he hoped it would be his last. "Blyat, not so tight please."

A murmuring swept through the passengers, but none would move to interfere with the investigation. Though, one man would attempt to capture the moment with his 1997 Sony Digital Mavica.



Meanwhile, the Prime Minister’s family was feeling much more at ease since they had been reunited with Agent Pipenko. They would lean past each other in the hellicopter to gaze at the beautiful Polish countryside below. The further away from the border they got, the less apprehension they had towards their hosts. The Yanukovych sons would make an attempt at small talk with the pilot or pilots, asking how many years they had been flying and what their favorite part of the job was. Before they knew it, they had arrived at their destination.

"Dziękuję bardzo," Mrs. Yanukovych would say before departing from the helicopter, thank you very much. Her Polish wasn't very good, she definetly had an accent, but that was one phrase she could remember.

Pies and Kot would receive warmer salutations than their counterparts at the border had.

“Christmas already?” Agent Pipenko smiled. He would accept the duffle bag like a boy being gifted his first bb gun. Now he wouldn’t feel so naked.

Mrs. Yanukovych nodded as well, “yes, thank you very much for your hospitality. I think a meal would be much appreciated.”

ManBear
 

Odinson

United States of America
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President Gore remained silent for a few moments and then responded, "We will be in contact with the Polish. If they allow us to launch our special forces from Poland, we will be able to help. I'm sure that you're busy," the President said. "Who can we contact that you still trust if we will be able to assist your forces?" the President asked. Meanwhile, plans were starting to be made to secretly inform the Gang of Eight in Congress as well as the logistics of deploying special forces to Europe. President Gore waited for his answer.

GingeOrCringe
 

ManBear

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May 22, 2020
Messages
626
"Sorry, sir. We will explain your charges when we are outside." The Police officer offered a smile as he helped the President through the tight aisle of the passenger airline. The soldiers watched the passengers until he spotted one holding a camera. Instead of grabbing it from his hands, he simply shook his head at the man. The soldiers and police officers would back out of the airline once the Prime Minister was out of the aircraft before placing him in a military Honker.

"Sorry about the theatrics sir. We will get the handcuffs off of you once we are out of view of the public. The brass thought it would be better if the Ukrainians upstarts thought you had been arrested once you arrived in Poland." The man talking punched a few numbers into a phone before hitting the dial button. "Yes. Target secured. Hand the line of to the HVT." The soldier turned in his seat before holding the phone so the Prime Minister could hear. "You wife sir."

_______________________

The family would be led into the farmhouse and allowed to change into shower before being showed where they would be staying. The basement had been converted into a secured area complete with a small armory. While the group was eating pizza, a cell phone rang in the pocket of Pies. "Sir," he answered it. "Confirmed sir. Here is the HVT." He would offer the phone to the Prime Minister's Wife. "It's your husband, ma'am."

GingeOrCringe
 
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GingeOrCringe

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616
Maidan and the Verkhovna Rada,
Kyiv


The crowd on the Maidan swelled like an infection. Like metastatic cancer, some of the masses had spread onto neighboring streets. Militsiya officers stood on the roof tops and crouched in the windows that surrounded Independence Square. Drumming fingers on rifle barrels. How would it look if they fired on an unarmed crowd? That was why they hadn’t done anything yet. That was why they hadn’t stormed Oleksandrivska Hospital, either. Not yet. But the crowd just kept accumulating like the snow. Something would need to be done...

Inside the Verkhovna Rada Building, Leonid Kuchma could still feel the barrel of a gun firmly pressed against his spine. After a bout of shouting, orders to get on the ground, and the zip tying of hands, the militsiya had marched him and the rest of his team up to the main floor. Taras was left in the basement where he had fallen. Though blindfolded, Kuchma was fairly certain that the thin carpet they were now forced to kneel on was in the chamber, where parliament was normally held. One of the officers was mumbling a report to his commander, but they were too many steps away to be understood by the kneeling hostages.

Why haven’t they killed me yet? Wondered Kuchma. A few seconds of panicked gunfire had taken out poor Taras, and that Pravda fuck was short a few fingers (a real shame), but Kuchma himself hadn’t suffered any injury. Maybe they really did want a trial?

“Hey,” Kuchma said, trying to turn his head towards whoever was shoving the point of an AK in his back. “Hey, listen parni, fellas, can you untie me so I can take a piss, or do you just wanna hold my cock for me?” He braced himself for the punch to the face or riflebutt to the jaw that most Ukrainian men would have dealt in response to such a suggestion, but there was nothing.

“Shut up, katsap suka,” growled the officer. “You can wet yourself for all I care.”

All bark, no bite. So, a televised trial then? A bit of theater they wouldn’t want to mess up his face for, lest the public mistake him for a victem.

The newly appointed President of Ukraine would continue speaking. “I just thought you would have thrown us in cells by now is all. We’ve been kneeling here forever, my knees are killing me. Will the court proceedings be this slow?”

There was a longer pause this time, as if his captors were uncertain how to respond. “I told you to shut up!” Snarled the guard—judging from his voice it was the same one. He seized the collar of Kuchma’s shirt, shaking him. His breath was hot with a signature of cigarettes, horseradish, and dill. “We’ll move you when we want. Right now, we want you to kneel here, so you’re going to kneel!”

Kuchma tilted his head, chewing on this new information. Did they not have a holding facility secured? That didn’t make any sense, this was the MoD and the police. Unbeknownst to him, a crowd had broken off from the Maidan and was standing before the Rada, voicing their disapproval of the earlier beating of Yulia Tymoshenko.





Oleksandrivska Hospital, Kyiv
Phonecall with Al Gore


"Poland," President Yushchenko nodded, kicking himself for not calling them first. He would provide the Americans with contact information for the Director of the SSU, Volodymyr Ivanovych Radchenko. "The Republic of Ukraine cannot express its gratitude enough, Mr. President." Then Yushchenko would politely end the call. He would need to draft some sort of temporary emergency admittance agreement before they arrived--he had forgotten to mention that to the Gore Administrarion. This headache was just too much, he couldn't concentrate, and for some reason his mouth was begining to taste like a tin can or copper mug.

Odinson





Somewhere, Poland

"Yes, it's fine," said Prime Minister Viktor Yanukovych. His tone deeply contradicted his words. He was about to ask who, specifically, had thought up this cherade, but before he could get another word out, a phone was passed to him. "My wife?"

"Vitya, you are alright?" Mrs. Yanukovych asked, using the diminutive of his first name. She dapped away some tears with a tissue. "We were so worried about you!"

He would confirm, yes, yes, he was alright and the Poles were taking good care of him. Yes, her had packed the icon she had given him, it was in his luggage. Yes, the Poles had grabbed that--he was fairly certain. Yes, he had eatten recently, the in flight food wasn't bad. Yes, he promised he would see them very soon. The Prime Minister shifted away from his hosts as he spoke, trying to hide his flushed face. "Yes, yes, Kukolka, I love you too."

ManBear
 

GingeOrCringe

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Messages
616
Private/Encrypted

Once upon a time, Director Volodymyr Radchenko had been a young KGB agent. Over the course of his career in the Soviet intelligence agency, he had naturally befriended some Russians.

Now he was Director of Ukraine’s own intelligence agency. Walking his fingers over his Rolodex, he selected a handful of names—people who had been in favor of dismantling the Soviet Union on the basis of economic and civil rights. People who, at least in the time Radchenko had known them, expressed brotherly sentiments towards the state of Ukraine.

He reviewed the five or so business cards he had arranged on his desk. Russia was grappling with a civil war and terrorism. Radchenko wasn’t sure if any of these men had maintained positions within the Russian Intelligence Agency or Special Operations Command, but if there was the slightest chance that something could be accomplished cooperatively, he needed to try.

Radchenko selected the most qualified candidate and dialed the phone number on a secure, encrypted line.

Alex
 
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Alex

Russia
GA Member
Joined
Apr 16, 2019
Messages
3,279
 

Moscow was beyond disarray these days. Ministers ran around like blind children, Directors were flooded with tsunamis of paperwork, and the officers suffered from burdens of sending their countrymen to kill more of their countrymen. Vadim Bakatin was among these men, having been taken from retirement by the request of Her Imperial Majesty herself, he was currently serving as Director of the Federal Security Service.

When the call came in he could hardly believe it. Using his secure phone, he picked up. "Volodomyr, is that truly you? Or have I finally lost my mind?"

GingeOrCringe

 
 

GingeOrCringe

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Messages
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"Vadim," Volodymyr smiled slightly. He had always held a quiet admiration for the man. Speaking with him felt like loosening one's tie after a satisfying courtroom verdict. As with most Kyivans born under Soviet rule, Russian was Radchenko's mother tongue. He found it to be a more direct language than the folksy Ukrainian the Yushchenko administration encouraged its ministers to use. He slipped back into it like a well tailored blazer. "No, you haven't gone crazy. Though, it seems half the old Eastern Bloc has."

"I'm calling you off the record--as a friend, Vadya, as a brother. Your country has terminated its diplomatic missions in Ukraine without warning. We believe this is due to the influence of the so called 'Kuzmuk administration.'" He paused, keeping a cool tone, "The legitimate Ukrainian government would like to see him retired. We already have preperations underway with Spetsnaz units your country so generously sponsored. These are men I'm proud of, but they're green, Vadim. It would be less of a concern if I were only ordering them to retake the MoD, but we have a delicate situation in the Rada Building as well. A friend of both Ukraine and Russia, a friend of mine, will likely face summary execution if the slightest mistep is made."

"I've spoken to my own advisors, and now I'm speaking with you. What consultation can you provide an old friend?"

Alex
 
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