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Voshkod

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The Eutopian Central Bank, long known as the Old Man of New Lancaster, is known to the public for designing and printing banknotes, coining operations, and interest rate decisions. It is, of course, responsible for far more than that. The ECB acts as the bank for the Eutopian Government and as the "bank of the bankers." It also manages foreign exchange, gold reserves, and monitors and polices the stock market.

The ECB is responsible for maintaining a stable financial system. In this role, it advises the government on financial issues and acts, only when necessary, as a prop for banks in difficulty.

The Government and members of the Assembly and Senate may request financial impact statements from the ECB on proposed policy goals and legislation.

The mysterious Monetary Policy Board of the ECB is responsible for analyizing current economic statistics to determine an appropriate interest rate to slow (or, occasionally, enhance) inflation. The MPB strives for a stable economy and a stable currency.

The ECB is headed by Sir Adam Greenbridge, who also sits as head of the MPB. Sir Adam retired as head of the ECB two decades ago. His return to the helm has been hailed as either a sign of great desperation or great hope. He is pushing the far side of 70, but is kept young by his love of economics and his very young, very blond new wife.
 

Voshkod

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PRESS RELEASE


The Speaker of the General Assembly has requested the analysis of the Central Bank on the impact of the proposed Value Added Tax. After consideration, it is the opinion of the Central Bank that this tax will raise approximately 16.5 billion ducats in the immediate outyears.

It is further the opinion of the Central Bank that this tax will cause a short-term rise in the rate of inflation.
 

Voshkod

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Detective Belinda Carmichael was happy and bored. This drifting street observation assignment she was on gave her plenty to time to think, think about life and her career, think about ordering another chai. Bored because nothing was happening, other officers were stopping crime and locking thugs up, and she sat in a street cafe across from the grey battleship mass of the Eutopian Central Bank on a sunny morning.

She ordered the second chai, and continued to casually scan the street near the bank.

The Eutopian Parcel Service truck, a black box on wheels, caught her eye momentarily as it turned the corner. Hmmmm. Two guys. That's odd. Normally just the driver. ECB must get a lot of mail. Only one guy yesterday, though. A cherry red convertible, top down, driven by a blond, was following it, and bubble-gum pop bubbled up from its speakers.

Carmichael nibbled a bit of scone. The EPS truck turned in toward the underground parking lot of the Bank. The convertible pulled in behind it. The detective watched as ECB security approached the truck. One of the guards tossed a jaunty wave to the blond, and she cheerily blew him a kiss.

Charmichael stood up, brushed a few crumbs off her jeans, and adjusted her light jacket to give herself a clean draw. Something's not right. Why didn't they go to the loading dock, like yesterday? She started to stroll over toward the scene.

The guards and the EPS personnel were now having a heated argument. One of the guards was pointing toward the loading dock, the other was examining credentials with a frown. He held up a warning finger and pulled out his radio. There was a sudden pop pop and the guard with the radio fell over suddenly. Charmichael pulled her pistol and ran foward toward the convertible and cover.

"Get down, get down," she started shouting, and the blond in the convertible disappeared behind the dashboard. "FLEA agent! Federal agent!," she bellowed, and started firing at the back wheels of the truck to immobilize it. She heard the engine begin to rev. In her loudest command voice, she roared: "Pop the security barrier! Do it now!"

The truck lurched foward toward the lot entrance. It was about half-way in when the security barrier popped up from beneath, a slab of spring-fired curved steel rising at a couple of hundred miles an hour, driving the truck up into the roof of the lot. Charmichael laughed despite herself to see the now-flat back tires spinning fruitless two feet off the ground. She moved in a squat up the side of the convertible. "Back your car out of here, ma'am, do it now," she said to the blond, and moved on toward the back of the truck.

The convertible started to back out. Charmichael saw ECB security with heavy weapons starting to move in from the front of the bank. She held her credentials high. "Federal agent! Come out of the truck now!" Several more pops, aimed at the ECB guards, were her answer. She sighed and ducked as the guards opened up with their rifles. She could hear the bullets punch into the thin metal of the truck.

Must have hit the gas tank, she thought. I can smell the diesel and . . . . Her mind went back to her childhood days, visiting her uncle's farm, the earthy chemical smell of . . . Fertilzer. Diesel and fertilzer.

Belinda Charmichael stood and ran toward the ECB guards. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the blond's car starting to pull off down the street. She was yelling. "It's a bomb! Cease fire! It's a . . . ."

The explosion broke windows up to five miles away, and ripped the facade off of the Bank building, collapsing part of one wing. It was a old, stout, structure, though, and the rest stayed standing. The smaller, newer buildings across the street were flattened in a wall of fire and shrapnel. Ball bearings flew around the street like angry steel bees, ripping pedestrians to pieces. Falling glass and masonry killed even more, and a red convertible was blown into unidentifiable pieces. Detective Carmichael never felt it at all.


- Voshkod as demi-mod
 

von Streusser

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The wind whipped around Rio's ears as he raised the binoculars to his face again, looking off in the direction of the Eutopian Central Bank, a few miles away. His thoughts were interrupted once more by the hotel maintenance man, and Friends of Durruti member, who had let him up onto the glitzy hotel's roof. He would have preferred a more low-key place, but this was the only one high enough and at the right distance, with a good view of the bank and the surrounding roads to boot.

"Sir, I need to get back inside...someone might miss me if I'm gone for too long. A cigarette break I can justify, but-"

"Go. You've done your part. 10 minutes after you hear the blast, come up here and lock the door. I'll be gone by then." Rio gave a dismissive wave of the hand, and the maintenance man nodded and headed back inside.

Rio had put his hat and satchel down a while ago, preferring to let his hair get rumpled rather than see his favorite hat blow over the side of the building. He maintained his watch, focusing on the road leading to the ECB, and finally the EPS truck came into view. He watched as it pulled up, followed closely by a red convertible. He was too far away to get a good look at the car, but it appeared to be following the truck into the lot...meaning an employee of the bank? It was a very nice car though, so whoever owned it had to have money. The vehicle was vaguely familiar somehow, but he couldn't place it. He reached into his bag and pulled out a sniper scope to get a better look. Adjusting the zoom on the scope, he saw a blond woman driving the car. Suddenly it popped into place.

Greenbridge. Not the old gentleman Greenbridge. His young, intelligent wife and noted economist, Dr. Tiffanee Greenbridge. He had seen her drive him around while he had tailed Sir Adam. A smile spread across Rio's face.

But it didn't last. He saw someone move towards the truck, then heard the gunshots. This mystery visitor had pulled something out of her pocket and was waving it around.
"Shit" he hissed "a plainclothesman. When did she get here?" He watched as heavy security arrived, as the truck rushed for the garage, and was suddenly trapped in the security gate. He realized he was holding his breath, took a glance at his watch, and dropped prone.

He felt the shock wave from the blast rumble through him, and heard glass crack and break somewhere nearby. There was a long, deafening silence as the people of New Lancaster City struggled to figure out what on earth had just happened, and then the screaming started. Rio propped his elbows up and looked through the binoculars, then the sniper scope, at the fruits of his labor.

The ECB still stood, mostly. But it was more or less the only thing near the crater that could claim that. Near the crater itself was nothing but charred blackness and rubble, a few flames flickering nearby in the smoking remains of cars. Farther out came the blood, pooling in miniature lakes and streams. He looked for Greenbridge's car, but couldn't identify anything positively...it could be any hunk of rubble. But it almost certainly had not gotten away. With a smile, he packed his bag up and entered the hotel. He went down a few flights of stairs and joined the panicked masses swarming about with no real purpose but to exhaust their own fear, losing himself in the throng of post-disaster hysteria.

Shortly thereafter, he was out the door, down the street, and back in his car to get the Hell out of New Lancaster.


-vS as NPC
 

Estonianzulu

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A convoy of vehicles and heavy machines arive at the edge of the security zone. The lead pick-up truck pulls to a stop, and Barak Mofaz steps out.

"I guess this is the site. Alright, You've been told which group you are assigned to. Break up and keep in contact." He says into the walkie-talkie, then looks around for someone who appears to be incharge.
 

von Streusser

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The thunder of helicopters tore through the still afternoon air near New Lancaster, the steady roar of rotors growing louder and louder until the machines came into view. From the security perimeter, one could see the formation of four choppers fly in from the horizon, three smaller helicopters flying around one monster. After a moment, it registered that the three dwarfed helicopters were in fact of normal size, one of them even a bit on the large side, and the one in the middle was just so enormous as to throw off an observer's perspective.

They flew over the crater, slowing down to get a good look at the scene of the destruction, then accelerating out and heading for New Lancaster International Airport. There, all four helicopters landed and disgorged their payloads. Out of the Mi-8 Hip came blankets, fuel, and food rations. Similar materials were unloaded from the Ka-29 Helix and the Mi-35 Hind. Finally, the monster Mi-26 Halo was unloaded, and out poured a full disassembled military field hospital with all its gear, a medical staff, and a couple dozen rescue workers. All the equipment and personnel were loaded into waiting trucks and transported to the site of the disaster, while the Ka-29 and Mi-35 refueled, then took off and rumbled back towards Buen Puerto. The Mi-8 and Mi-26 also refueled, but stayed on station. After they were ready to go airborne once again, the pilot of the Mi-26 radioed in to the leader of the rescue effort and reported that his two helicopters were ready for heavy lifting or whatever tasks were required, and the other two were heading back to Tilapia to pick up more supplies.

Closer to the scene, the trucks bearing the field hospital headed into the secure zone, unloaded, and began setting up. Within fifteen minutes the tents were up and the hospital was ready to begin treating wounded. The medical staff reported their readiness and the rescue workers reported to the rescue operation leader for their assignment.


-vS as Tilapia
 

Voshkod

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Sir Adam Greenbridge opened his eyes, blinked away some dust. "And why am I looking at the ceiling, Ms. Shelly?," he asked querilously. He slowly rose, and winced as shattered glass fell from his suit. In one hand he had his gold pen, in the other his press announcement. So all was still right with the world.

His executive secretary was standing at the absent window, looking down into the street. He shuffled over to her. "Now, Ms. Shelly, we're not getting anything done gawking at the street, are we?" He looked down himself at a scene of carnage. Sir Adam blinked again. He realized two things in short sucession: Ms. Shelly was sobbing, and there should be a window here.

"Be dear, Ms. Shelly, and check on the status of the reserve and the backup servers, please? Oh, and call Tiff and tell her to take her time with the lunch." The woman just stood there, crying. "Oh come now, Ms. Shelly," he said with some annoyance, "tears aren't accomplishing anything. We have work to do." He sent her off with a pat on her rump.

Sir Adam brushed the glass of his chair and sat down again. He added a few lines to the end of his press release, added a few more after Ms. Shelly returned with her report. He pulled out his pocket watch, cursed slightly to see the cracked glass, and realized it was time. "Come, Ms. Shelly, time for the press conference." He made his way through the dust and rubble to the front steps of the Bank.

The media had already arrived, dusty reporters tracking through the debris, while the police and firefighters were still trying to close the perimeter. When they saw the Chairman step out into the blast zone, they closed on him.

"Ah, good, I see you're on time," said Sir Adam. He looked over the crowd. "Not the usual group, but so be it." He unfolded his paper.

"The Monetary Policy Board, concerned by the disparity between inflation and interest rates and the economic imbalance that will result, is announcing a 3.5 point raise in short-term interest rates, effective immediately. The entire Board agreed with this action.

"The monetary reserve remains intact after today's incident. Further, the Bank's vital operations will not be affected. All Bank personnel working in the New Lancaster building are excused as of noon today, and will report to their alternate work locations at nine tomorrow.

"Further, invoking my emergency authority as Chairman, we will raise short-term rates an additional 2 points to counteract the near-term effects of today's incident. This amounts to a total of 5.5 points, or a short-term interest rate of 13 percent, effective immediately.

"Thank you." Sir Adam turned to go back into the building.

- Voshkod as Sir Adam Greenbridge
 

Voshkod

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The inbound Tilipians choppers are followed by LIRA, sweeping in low over the scene, then landing at New Lancaster. The Pathfinders are driven down to the scene immediately to create an LZ for ferrying in the soldiers and pulling out the wounded.

- Voshkod as demi-mod
 

unmerged(24047)

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"Jesus..." Maj. McGrath reamined wordless while the chopper floated over the remnants of the EBA. THe solid building of the Bank was still in relatively good shape, with only the face scrapped. But the surroundings were the worse mess he ever saw in his whole life.

Regaining the control, he started shouting orders in the radio channel: "Ok, listen to me Pathfinders. Major McGrath speaking. 1st and 2nd Squad, arrange the landing of the LIRA. Find public parks, squares, anything near the area with some space. Beware of cables and wires, and also remember that it will probably became and open-air hospital. 3rd Squad coordinate with the Tilapians about their landing and on how they can help. 4th Squad, you'll follow me, we'll search for the coordinator of the aids in this bloody mess, to see what we can do. Pathfinders, i know it won't be easy, but focus on the work. I promise you'll have the chance to put your hands on who made this hell. McGrath over."

"LIRA, this is McGrath. We're setting up the LZs. ETA?"
 

Craig Ashley

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A letter arrives from Jake Langley.

Sir Greenbridge:

First off, I would like to express my relief that you and your staff escaped harm during the ghastly terrorist attack. Secondly, I would like to meet with you some time soon to discuss a few economic propositions I have in mind, and to perhaps get some input and background information from you.

President Jacob S. Langley
 

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Alarico and the other Tilapian soldiers had joined up with the 3rd Pathfinder Squad and were busily clearing a landing zone for the incoming LIRA troopers. They had found a large space that was mostly clear, but as they got to work preparing it they discovered that they had misjudged the space they would need, and a large concrete slab was currently taking up a good deal of it. All the men working together couldn't move it, and the Squad leader was mulling over the option of moving to a new zone when Alarico walked up.

"Mind if I borrow your radio?" the Colonel asked. The Squad leader shrugged and handed it over. Antonin messed with the frequency a bit, then keyed it.

"Crusader One, this is Eagle Eye Six, do you copy? Over."

There was a long silence, and Alarico was about to fiddle with the frequency again when the radio suddenly crackled to life. "Eagle Eye Six, this is Crusader One. We copy. Over." Alarico smiled.

"Captain, we've got a concrete problem on a large scale down here. Can you give us a hand? Over."

"Roger that, on our way. Crusader One, out."

Alarico handed back the radio and smiled broader. "Now you're going to see a REAL chopper." A few minutes later, a massive helicopter came into view, several times larger than any bird that LIRA used. The Mi-26 Halo roared over near 3rd Squad, hovered in place, and lowered itself down until it was only a couple dozen meters off the ground. The radio crackled again.

"Sending down the cables and our loadmaster. Help him secure the problem and we'll lift this beast out of here. Over." A huge external carrying rig lowered from the bottom of the helicopter, and the crew loadmaster descended on a long rappel line. The loadmaster sized up the slab of concrete as the rig was lowered into place, and smiled.

"10, maybe 15 thousand kilos. No problem." Casting a number of lines around and securing them with the help of the LIRA soldiers and the Tilapian observers, the chunk of rubble was quickly secured. The loadmaster re-boarded the aircraft, and the helicopter slowly begin to haul. There was a loud scraping noise as the concrete groaned in protest, then pulled free. The 8 bladed rotor of the chopper was pulling hard, and the Halo slowly began to gain altitude. Alarico was grinning like a madman.

Maneuvering slowly, the bird turned and moved off slowly and carefully, keeping its dangling payload clear of obstacles as it headed out of the city and towards the pre-arranged dumping area. The soldiers were left to look at their LZ, now more or less completely clear, and Alarico turned to the 3rd Squad commander.
"Now was that cool or what? If any of the other squads need help, let 'em know the call sign and the frequency. It is, after all, what they're here for." Without another word, he headed over towards the newly cleared area to help remove the smaller pieces of rubble. The other Tilapian soldiers followed, chattering excitedly in Spanish. Even the other Pathfinders had to admit, it was an impressive helicopter.

-vS as Tilapia
 

unmerged(24047)

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The commander of the 3rd Squad hated to admit that, but the Tilapians really helped out.
"That beast of yours is one hell of a chopper!"

- approved by GM
 
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With 3rd Squad's LZ clear, Alarico felt he should at least introduce himself to the commander, Major McGrath. Walking up to the 1st Squad's LZ, he found McGrath on the radio, probably with his HQ. After he hung up, Alarico stepped forward and introduced himself, offering a hand.

"Major McGrath? Colonel Alarico, nice to meet you. Anything we can-" He was interrupted by a shout from one of the Pathfinders directed to McGrath.

"Sir! We've got a live one pinned over here!"

They took off at a dead run.

* * * * *​

She was a young woman in a business suit, blonde, her features delicate and cute underneath the dust, plaster, and blood that covered her face. She was pale, and her breathing was shallow. McGrath, Alarico, and several Pathfinders who had rushed to the scene looked at the mess around her. Her right arm was pinned under a piece of concrete and some heavy piping. The Pathfinders had cleared away the rest of the rubble, but she couldn't be moved without lifting the heavy block that covered her arm...and it wasn't going to be moved without some sort of equipment or power assist. Additionally, electrical wires and some heavier cables lay scattered through the rubble here. The young woman was conscious, coughing...she moaned with pain and tried to gasp out a word, but McGrath couldn't hear her...her lips seemed to be trying to form the word "please".

"She's bleeding out, sir" a Pathfinder Medic informed the Major. "We have to get her out from under there one way or another or she'll die...we either have to move that block or amputate the arm. It's probably crushed beyond recovery anyway."

"Amputate?! Here?!" barked another Pathfinder. "You'll kill her!! And you don't know what shape her arm is in!" The Medic gave the second man a glare, clearly taking it as a slight to his skills.

"Major" Alarico interjected "I could get one of our choppers to come haul that rubble off of her or give us an assist, but it may hurt her worse than she already is. On the other hand, if we don't get her out of there and into the hands of a doctor fast, we'll lose her. It's your call, sir."

-vS as NPCs
 

unmerged(24047)

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McGrath hated this situation. Having the responsability of soldiers under his command was different from having to decide over another human's life.

With a grim look on his face he turned to Alarico:
"Get your chopper here, as fast as you can. We'll try to lift the rubble, prepare to move her."
Then talked to the medics :
"Be ready to stabilize her here, then we'll move her as soon as possible to the nearest LZ. Ok?"
 

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"You got it." The Tilapian keyed the radio. "Crusader One, this is Eagle Eye Six, we need a lift-assist and a Med-Evac, pronto. Over."

There was a pause, then the radio crackled. "Eagle Eye Six, this is Crusader Two. One is out of pocket, heavy lift. My Hip's available, will it do? Negative on the Med-Evac though, no stretcher or med gear on board. Over."

"Roger that Two, your Hip should work. Can you call us an ambulance on your way? Over."

"Will do, one ground ambulance will be on the way. ETA 90 seconds. Crusader Two, Out."

The Pathfinder Medic kneeled over the woman, trying to at least make her comfortable and keep her from bleeding out while they waited for the chopper. He worked quickly and well, quietly trying to re-assure her that she'd be OK, and help was on the way. Alarico, meanwhile, checked the rubble for the best places to hook the tow cables. A loud rumble filled their ears as the Mi-8 Hip roared over their heads and into position, tossing down some tow cables to hook to the block. Alarico directed the activity of lashing the block to the chopper, and two LIRA soldiers moved into position to help the Medic extract the victim as soon as the block was out of the way.

When the cables were secure, Alarico keyed the radio again.
"We're secure, haul away!" There was a twang as the cables pulled taut, and the helicopter slowly started to lift the block away from its current position. When it was a few inches into the air, the woman suddenly started screaming. Alarico barked into the radio for the helicopter to hold position, and the block froze in mid-air. The victim's mangled arm was caught in a building cable, and if the helicopter kept going up it would tear the limb right off. The Tilapian Colonel grabbed a nearby LIRA soldier's combat knife and jumped forward, reaching around to the cable and giving it two quick passes. The cable was already pulled tight by the weight of the forces pulling at it, and so it gave quickly with a snap.

Three things happened. First, the woman was released, and the LIRA soldiers and medic holding her plucked her from the wreckage quickly. Second, a group of pipes and other debris that had been held back by the cable Alarico had cut fell with a crash, landing where her body had been just moments before. Third, the taut cable lashed out like an angry snake at Alarico and struck him in the face, sending him flying backward, trailing an arc of blood in his wake. There was a sound like a metal baseball bat striking his skull, and when he hit the ground he lay still for a moment. The cable had caught his cheek, and opened it up from jawline to just under his eye. After a second he began to convulse, a mixture of spittle and blood spraying both from his mouth and the open wound in his cheek. The nearby LIRA soldier whose knife Alarico had grabbed rushed to his side, picked up the knife, and pushed the handle in between the Tilapian's teeth, then tried to keep his head off the ground to keep him from striking it against rock. Blood was trickling from Alarico's left ear.

The LIRA medic did his best to stabilize the civilian woman, but she was already weak and going into shock. Sirens blared, and a ground ambulance pulled up as close as it could. EMTs piled out with a stretcher, then seeing the number of people prostrate, grabbed a second. It was a tight fit, but they managed to cram both Alarico and the civilian into the ambulance as they worked frantically to stabilize both. Once the ambulance doors closed, the sirens came back on and the truck roared off towards the Field Hospital.

Several of McGrath's stunned pathfinders were covered in blood from the two victims, and no one said anything for a long moment. Finally, one of the soldiers broke the silence.
"Major McGrath...do you smell something?"

The Major took a couple deep sniffs and suddenly smelled it too. Gas.

-vS as NPCs
 

unmerged(24047)

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"Oh Christ...evacuate the area!! THey haven't stopped the gas line! Go go!"

McGrath and his men ran fast, hoping to put distance between the broken tubes and them.
Major McGrath was the last one, running around to see if there were still medics or soldiers unaware of the danger.
 

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All of McGrath's soldiers clear the immediate LZ and area where the gas was leaking from. It is impossible to tell what was once on top of that particular spot...it could be a gas station, (in which case the gas would be leaking from underground containers) an underground propane tank, or a gas pipeline.

Breathing hard, one of the soldiers looks up at McGrath and asks
"Well sir, what are we going to do?"

The radio crackles, and a voice comes through it, telling McGrath that the rest of LIRA will be landing in two minutes. He can barely hear the sound of the rotors in the distance.

-vS as NPCs
 

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"First of all, make sure the LZ aren't close to the area of the leaking, i don't want roasted reinforcements.
I hope Alarico and the woman will be allright...anyway, find me the autority here, police, FLEA, anyone, i need to know what is that leaking, if the gas pipelines are closed, if under the rubble once was a gas station..."