09-30-2019, 06:04 AM
Unknown Location, Bjeorg
July 31st, 1991 - Late Evening
The truth was simple, going and attacking Smith was a bad idea. It wasn't that Simon doubted his own ability or the ability of his men, he was just smart enough to understand that Brian Smith was a figurehead. He was the face of independence. He was a virtuous man who could get a whole province on his side. If he was extinguished now, things could end very badly for the independence movement. Simon knew what the right answer was but he was still extremely hesitant to say it.
"I have reached a verdict." Simon stated blankly to three high-ranking ANM leaders. "I have decided that it is in the best interest of the independence movement not to follow through with the notion of assassinating Brian Smith. If you need my reasoning, I am happy to provide it." The three men shook their heads in unison before leaving the tent. They agreed with Simon in all likelihood.
Simon walked the length of his office and opened a drawer in his mahogany desk. It contained a typed piece of paper that Simon had decided he would send the minute he came to a decision. Turning quickly, Simon left his makeshift office, walked to a small sedan, and entered the vehicle. There would be no need for vans or soldiers. After all, Simon was merely running an errand.
The car took two twists of the key to start. It always idled the first time for some reason that Simon was unable to discern. It was an old 1979 Bailey Series III and it's engine just wasn't standing the test of time, Simon guessed. Regardless, the engine turned over on the second attempt and the transition from park to first gear was easy. Simon drove the little car out of its gravel parking pad and up to a hastily built checkpoint at the entrance of the ANM compound.
"Mr Simon, may I ask what it is that you are doing?" asked one of the security guards. He was understandably confused as to why the leader of all of ANM would leave the compound unaccompanied.
"I am sending a letter" was Simon's quick response. This comment resulted in the guard giving him an incredulous look, the post office was by no means operating. It hadn't been since the Smith's declaration so long ago. The guard scowled before opening the compound gate opened anyway. Simon's car shuddered a little as it exited the compound and drove off into the twilight.
Simon drove due west for about twenty minutes, encountering not a single car along the way. After a great time, he parked his car on the shoulder off the road and exited his car. Simon lifted the car trunk unceremoniously and pulled out the piece of paper, now in a blank envelope. He walked quickly to a close by road-sign and wedged the envelope in between the sign and its stand. The envelope was obscured from view perfectly. You couldn't find the dead drop unless you already knew where to look.
Simon returned back to the compound just as the last vestiges of sunlight departed from the sky. A deep, oppressive darkness fell on the world. This was the type of night where even the air was stagnate to the point of being putrid to breath. The mosquitos would mercilessly tear at the flesh of any soul who's incredible misfortune found him out in the open on a night like this.
Thus was the fate of Brian Smith. It was only moments after Simon removed the key from the ignition of his car, safe and sound at the ANM compound, that Smith arrived at the dead drop zone. He exited his much nicer sedan and fumbled with a flashlight for a while. Once his eyes were adjusted to the light as best as he could expect them too, he began to surcharging the shoulder for the road-sign. It took him a couple of minutes but Smith eventually felt the envelope behind the sign and lifted it free of its position. He returned quickly to his car and turned the interior light on before ripping into the envelope, eager to see what all-important memo awaited his reading.
The memo was actually much shorter than Smith had expected. Smith was initially relieved to read that he would no longer be the target of ANM. He nearly smiled as his eyes grazed the page. Phrases like "looking forward to our continued cooperation" and "unity for the common goal" brightened Smith's entire outlook on his relationship with ANM. Then Smith read the final page of the memo. His whole body slumped as he read it.
Simon couldn't be serious. This was a bluff. It had to be. There was simply no way ANM was in a position to carry out such an operation. Even as he desperately tried to convince himself it was a mere bluff, Smith knew it was true. Simon had no reason to tell him otherwise. Smith had read the words correctly, "evacuate all present forces to minimize causalities."
Smith had know for a while actually that Simon possessed the resources for such an operation. Between the Xiomerans, shared ownership of most of Bjeorg's military resources, and control of many airfields and military installations, Simon could carry out his goal. He wasn't asking for Smith's permission. He was asking for Smith's blessing. Brian Smith was frankly beside himself. He knew that theoretically the operation would bring about a swifter end to the war but that hardly made it worth the casualties. Smith simply could not give his blessing for such an undertaking.
July 31st, 1991 - Late Evening
The truth was simple, going and attacking Smith was a bad idea. It wasn't that Simon doubted his own ability or the ability of his men, he was just smart enough to understand that Brian Smith was a figurehead. He was the face of independence. He was a virtuous man who could get a whole province on his side. If he was extinguished now, things could end very badly for the independence movement. Simon knew what the right answer was but he was still extremely hesitant to say it.
"I have reached a verdict." Simon stated blankly to three high-ranking ANM leaders. "I have decided that it is in the best interest of the independence movement not to follow through with the notion of assassinating Brian Smith. If you need my reasoning, I am happy to provide it." The three men shook their heads in unison before leaving the tent. They agreed with Simon in all likelihood.
Simon walked the length of his office and opened a drawer in his mahogany desk. It contained a typed piece of paper that Simon had decided he would send the minute he came to a decision. Turning quickly, Simon left his makeshift office, walked to a small sedan, and entered the vehicle. There would be no need for vans or soldiers. After all, Simon was merely running an errand.
The car took two twists of the key to start. It always idled the first time for some reason that Simon was unable to discern. It was an old 1979 Bailey Series III and it's engine just wasn't standing the test of time, Simon guessed. Regardless, the engine turned over on the second attempt and the transition from park to first gear was easy. Simon drove the little car out of its gravel parking pad and up to a hastily built checkpoint at the entrance of the ANM compound.
"Mr Simon, may I ask what it is that you are doing?" asked one of the security guards. He was understandably confused as to why the leader of all of ANM would leave the compound unaccompanied.
"I am sending a letter" was Simon's quick response. This comment resulted in the guard giving him an incredulous look, the post office was by no means operating. It hadn't been since the Smith's declaration so long ago. The guard scowled before opening the compound gate opened anyway. Simon's car shuddered a little as it exited the compound and drove off into the twilight.
Simon drove due west for about twenty minutes, encountering not a single car along the way. After a great time, he parked his car on the shoulder off the road and exited his car. Simon lifted the car trunk unceremoniously and pulled out the piece of paper, now in a blank envelope. He walked quickly to a close by road-sign and wedged the envelope in between the sign and its stand. The envelope was obscured from view perfectly. You couldn't find the dead drop unless you already knew where to look.
Simon returned back to the compound just as the last vestiges of sunlight departed from the sky. A deep, oppressive darkness fell on the world. This was the type of night where even the air was stagnate to the point of being putrid to breath. The mosquitos would mercilessly tear at the flesh of any soul who's incredible misfortune found him out in the open on a night like this.
Thus was the fate of Brian Smith. It was only moments after Simon removed the key from the ignition of his car, safe and sound at the ANM compound, that Smith arrived at the dead drop zone. He exited his much nicer sedan and fumbled with a flashlight for a while. Once his eyes were adjusted to the light as best as he could expect them too, he began to surcharging the shoulder for the road-sign. It took him a couple of minutes but Smith eventually felt the envelope behind the sign and lifted it free of its position. He returned quickly to his car and turned the interior light on before ripping into the envelope, eager to see what all-important memo awaited his reading.
The memo was actually much shorter than Smith had expected. Smith was initially relieved to read that he would no longer be the target of ANM. He nearly smiled as his eyes grazed the page. Phrases like "looking forward to our continued cooperation" and "unity for the common goal" brightened Smith's entire outlook on his relationship with ANM. Then Smith read the final page of the memo. His whole body slumped as he read it.
Simon couldn't be serious. This was a bluff. It had to be. There was simply no way ANM was in a position to carry out such an operation. Even as he desperately tried to convince himself it was a mere bluff, Smith knew it was true. Simon had no reason to tell him otherwise. Smith had read the words correctly, "evacuate all present forces to minimize causalities."
Smith had know for a while actually that Simon possessed the resources for such an operation. Between the Xiomerans, shared ownership of most of Bjeorg's military resources, and control of many airfields and military installations, Simon could carry out his goal. He wasn't asking for Smith's permission. He was asking for Smith's blessing. Brian Smith was frankly beside himself. He knew that theoretically the operation would bring about a swifter end to the war but that hardly made it worth the casualties. Smith simply could not give his blessing for such an undertaking.