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The Morlocova Crisis

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  • Brundlefly
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  • Paddy
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    thanks for the great story so far.

    it is funny I thought I was reading all of the current stories at the moment, then too find one in amongst the others that has been missed, looking forward to more...

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  • Brundlefly
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    Nice! Keep going! :P

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  • ChrisiusMaximus
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    Das where are you your audience is waiting, we want another shipment of goods!!

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  • Datajack Franit
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    Nice!

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  • TheGuitarist
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    I completely agree! This is great! I just read the whole freakin' thing. Awesome combat scenes!

    Keep it coming ASAP.

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  • vovan
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    I agree with dannubis, the show must go on. Please keep the goods coming Luftwaffle, we don't want to see a good story go to waste.

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  • dannubis
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    come on .... please ?

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  • dannubis
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    cool story, can't wait for more.

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  • ChrisiusMaximus
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    Gripping stuff, please keep it coming,

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  • Das_Luftwaffle
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    Hi guys. Sorry for the LONG delay between installments, but I've just been heaps busy...and i've been having some serious brain drain over the past days. But now it's all good. Here is the conclusion of Ivan's story.

    Morlocova. 1433 hr. Digger's Peak - Population 5000.
    Ivan walked out of the "Settlers and workers processing office" located near the outskirts of Digger's Peak, one of the many backwater miner towns set up by the Americans on Morlocova. The harsh, dry desert heat hit Ivan hard as he stepped from the cool airconditioned office building. Looking up the street he could see no tall buildings, the tallest structure visible was a water tower. The local temple was a rushed affair, from afar it looks as it were built of stone and motar, but if one inspects it closely enough they would find it to be nothing but sandstone render on cheap, prefabricated plasterboards. The rest of the street was made of plain looking whitewashed brick houses which housed mainly miners and their families. They all looked the same, save for numbers sprayed next to their doors in black spraypaint. Ivan started walking up the street, looking for number 17.

    Eventually Ivan found number 17. It was located along a street with about 12 other houses, on the other side of the street was the city's grainary and bus depot. The depot served two purposes, one was to encourage people to use public transport and cut down on pollution levels which would only add to Morlocova's inhospitability. The other purpose of the buses was to ferry workers to and from work in the Uranium mines every day, from 7am to 8pm 6 days a week. It was Sunday so Ivan's contact was bound to be at home. Ivan walked up to the wooden door of the house and rappled on the door with his knuckles three times. A few seconds passed and nobody answered. Ivan knocked once more, this time the door swung open and Ivan met face to face with a man about his height, sporting a goatee and a neat buzzcut. "Yes?" the man asked. Ivan said nothing, instead, with his left arm dangling by his side, Ivan made the Spy's Signal with his left hand, it consisted of making an O shape with the thumb and finger while the other fingers are kept in a straight line. Acknowledging the signal the man gestured Ivan into his house and then after quickly scanning the street, closed the door.

    The inside of the house was at a very comfortable temperature. One of the perks of being a miner for the Americans was a free airconditioner for every household, without one it would be impossible to get along. The house was a small one room affair, not unlike Ivan's apartment in Paris. It's walls were whitewashed and the room was kept in a permenant twilight because the only window had blinds pulled down over it. A table covered with papers and other paraphenelia was in the middle of the room, to one side was a small room containing a toilet and shower, and a small hotplate lay next to the toilet door. "My name is Boris. You must be Ivan." the goateed man finally said. "Yes, I was sent here by the bunker, they said you'd give me my orders" Ivan replied. "Yes yes, but you must be tired after that long trip, why don't you take a nap, sleep in my bed, I have to go out and arrange a few things anyway, I'll wake you once I get back." with that he opened the door and stepped into the blazing heat leaving Ivan in the cool, dark confines of the room. He was rather tired and so he lay down on the small single bed which lay in one corner of the room. Ivan fell asleep immediately, cooed to sleep by the gentle humming of the airconditioner.

    "Wake up Ivan. Time to get to work." said a voice as Ivan blinked the sleep out of his eyes. It was Boris, he was standing over Ivan shaking him by the shoulders. "What time is it?" Ivan asked, Boris checked his wristwatch, "17:02, it's just after sunset" said Boris. "Damn, I slept for 3 hours" Ivan said, shaking his head and getting up. When he got up he looked on the table, the papers and other junk had been replaced, instead on the table lay two Russian PVK-02 submachine guns and two ammo belts. Ivan instinctively put on one of the ammo belts, and taking one submachinegun, locked and loaded in a new clip of ammo. "Not now, we won't need them yet" Boris said. Ivan sheepishly took off the ammo belt, unloaded the submachinegun and put it back on the table. The airconditioner was off now. Walking outside, Ivan spotted an American manufacturered "Pacifier" jeep. Boris and Ivan climbed aboard and Boris started to drive in the direction of east. They chatted as the jeep roared it's way through the streets of Digger's Peak, kicking up dust as it tore it's way down the dirt roads. "Tonight, all we're going to be doing is to go a few clicks east, the Germans managed to get ashore onto a beach about 30 kilometres east from here. They haven't gotten any vehicles yet, but we're thinking that they're still a couple days away because of the lack of roads and such." The jeep approached a roadblock being guarded by a single American soldier. "Damn. See that yellow paper on the dashboard?" Boris said as he used a finger to point at two pieces of yellow paper held on the dashboard by pieces of blu-tac. "Hold them up to the guard, but if he says he's never seen you before, tell him that you're one of the new mine inspectors" Boris told Ivan. "Got it" Ivan said acknowledgingly. Surprisingly however, the guard didn't ask a thing and let the two go through without a single question. "He must be new" Boris said with a sigh of relief.

    The jeep was parked on the bottom of a hill, Boris and Ivan had climbed to the top and were now observing the German's encampment. The Germans' military doctrine dictated that once a beachhead is established, hold onto it and await the arrival of reinforcements, in this case, the all terrain vehicles. The Germans had made a neat encampment on a small plain about 1km south of the section of the beach they stormed. The camp was a square shape with one main gate and 10 guard nests placed at regular intervals. Boris observed the base with his binoculars as Ivan looked around for danger. Boris had put his binoculars away and was about to leave when Ivan spotted a small squad of German soldiers about 10 metres away, they had spotted them and began to fire their rifles while shouting at them, ordering them to halt. Ivan and Boris ran down the hill, at places actually sliding on their backs until they were at the jeep. With the Germans in pursuit, Ivan and Boris got on the jeep and sped away at full throttle. One bullet narrowly missed Ivan's arm and shattered the passenger's seat's rear view mirror. "Damn, I just got this jeep.." Boris muttered.

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  • ChrisiusMaximus
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  • unscratchedfoot
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    Good descriptive writing again. I could even taste the foulness of the coffee it was so realistic. That cafe needs to package up some of that coffee and send it to the yankies eating that cruddy stew on Morocava for a tasty dinner set.

    I smell treachery in the works. And dude, I really wanna see Russia have a go at morocava too and have another good slaughter.

    frogface says, "Bring on the carnage!"

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  • Das_Luftwaffle
    replied
    Thanks for your comments guys. It's doing wonders for my ego *jokes*

    Here is the 4th part in my series (if you count the prologue) this time it's from the Russian's perspective.

    Luska's Cafe. Paris, Russian occupied France. 1102 hr.
    Ivan sat at a boothe near the end of the cafe. It was empty except for a few regulars hanging sitting at the bar. "That man must've nursed that one cup of coffe for about an hour now...", Ivan thought as he gazed at an elderly bearded man wearing a green sweater, hunched over a cup of coffee. An attractive young waitress walked over to where Ivan was sitting, "More coffee, mesiour?" she asked. "No thank you." Ivan responded. The coffee here was horrible. It was one of the main reasons nobody ever came here, that and the fact it lay within the Docks District of Paris, which was not the most plesant of all neigbourhoods. Ivan could remember one time during the first Uranium War, when an entire Russian infantry division was driven out of Paris by 20000 odd French sailors and longshoresmen weilding lead pipes and bottles. Still, despite it's poor location and bad coffee, the cafe's privacy was the main incentive for Ivan's visit. He had been told to meet another agent, Sergei here at 1105. Ivan looked down at his wristwatch, only 1 more minute.

    Sergei, Ivan's superior was always on time and today was no exception. As soon as the second hand on Ivan's watch hit the 12, the chimes on the door rattled and a cold breeze flew into the room. A man wearing a long grey trenchcoat and sporting a serious face walked in. It was Sergei. Sergei walked past the old man in the green sweater and the waitress, paying them no attention, he walked directly to the boothe Ivan was sitting at and sat down opposite him. Not saying a single word he pulled out from his trenchcoat a yellow manila envelope. He put it down on the table and slid it across to Ivan. Ivan picked it up, opened it and lifted out the contents. The waitress asked Sergei what he wanted, he said he wanted nothing, he must've heard about how bad the coffee is. Included in the envelope was a sheet of paper, a report by the looks of it. Ivan read through the contents of the report and then looked at Sergei. "The Germans actually made it through?" Ivan asked after a breif silence. "Yes. I guess the beach was not as heavily fortified as you had anticipated, but no matter, this is only a minor setback." Sergei said as he leant back on his padded seat and light up a ciggerette, after taking a few drags, he got out another envelope and handed it to Ivan, "New orders. Remeber the procedure. I got to go now. Goodbye" he said as he stood up to leave. Ivan looked at the envelope, plain and yellow, he looked up, Sergei was gone now.

    Checking through his blinds, watching to see if anyone was observing him. Even though he had lived in the same apartment for 5 months, he still scrutinised every square inch of it, you could never be too careful of bugs or secret cameras. Satisfied that the security in his dingy 1 room apartment was at full integrity, Ivan opened the envelope from the cafe and poured it's contents onto a table located in the middle of the living room, which also doubled as a bedroom. Inside it were orders for his next assignment. A sheet of paper and a photograph. Ivan read the sheet of paper:

    TO: Agent Ivan Smirnkov
    FROM: The Bunker, Moscow
    SUBJECT: New orders
    SECURITY: A1


    Everything from Moscow is A1 security, thought Ivan. He continued reading.

    Germans made it through eastern fortification. They're still weak and recovering however. New orders: You are to goto a small Uranium mining town called Digger's Peak located near a Uranium mine in Morlocova...

    Damn. Thought Ivan, an assignment in Morlocova was the last thing he wanted. He continued reading the letter.

    Travel light. All equiptment will be provided for you on site. Once in the town, goto the miner's barracks, ask for a miner by the name of Ian Rudsky, claim to be his brother from America-England. Your accent is passable so don't worry. From then on he will give you your further instructions. Now for your travel plans....

    How nice of Moscow, thought Ivan, to provide all the travel plans so he has to do nothing except turn up.

    The flight was uneventful, from Paris to Vladovostok and then onto a small single engined light plane which flew him to a small island north of Morlocova. There Ivan was smuggled aboard an American workers shuttle carrying workers and settlers to Morlocova. America had begun trying to colonise Morlocova, but the inhospitable terrain, the jungle disease and poor ariable land meant only small towns littered the island landscape.

    Grr..sorry people but I'll have to leave it there today. I've got too much to do, but I'll come back to it as soon as I can. Thanks for your patience and support. I guess this is one of those "TO BE CONTINUED" things, ehe? Yeah I hate them too.

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  • ChrisiusMaximus
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    Another very good piece of the story, Keep it coming!

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