Let's get this rolling again now that the holidays are over for the most part. :D
---
You nod and recount what you saw-the attempted attack, the crash, the explosion, the gunmen, the chase... it takes a lot longer to recount, but even with all the details laid out, you don't remember much that you think will be useful. Sasha is annoyingly vague about questions you offer in exchange, invoking 'need to know' almost constantly. You don't need to know what happened to the guys who were shooting at you. You don't need to know what's going on at your workplace. What you do need to know apparently could fit on an index card in 24 point font. She's even cagey about the dead-though she does offer to give you a number to call to order flowers.
Her response to your last question leaves you flummoxed though. "So...When can I leave?"
She looks up at you and then nods to the door. "Well, now. Or as soon as this debriefing is over."
The sheer rediculousness of that leaves you stunned for several seconds. "W-wait, i just almost got killed this morning and..."
Sasha smiles at you like you're a child. "Da. There will be others. If we put you in a bunker in a hidden worker town, they will find it and stomp the roof in with Mechs. If we surround you with guards, a sniper will wait for you to walk out for some fresh air. Our neighbors believe in the Crab Bucket principle-any crabs that try to escape should be merceilessly dragged back down into the bucket. And our big neighbors, the great Houses of the old Star League? They have no use for Periphery upstarts. Indeed, a successful state outside their control is dangerous to their order. So we could send you away with the best security, leaving absolutely no holes uncovered...and wait for our enemies to find new holes or simply use terrific overkill. We do not have nuclear weapons because attempting to get them is an invitation for everyone to come running and kick your head in for attempting to reach for the atomic cookie-jar. Putting additional security on you would be like ringing the dinner bell for mercenaries and assassins." She laughs a bit. "These ones were a bit more than we were expecting, but you were just their...hmm, well you were a target of opportunity. Their true efforts were far more widespread."
----
You are El Presidente of the Cabanagem Presidium, and you're an old woman. Your back hurts constantly despite the attention of the best doctors. But at least you still have your looks-you look twenty years younger than most of your contemporaries, beautiful even if you've aged. Beauty and charisma allowed you access to the seats of power-and treachery and a skill for lying that transcend expertise solidified your grip on that seat and helped you to topple your rivals. You listen to your assistants natter on while you look out the armor-crystal windows of your palace and out across the city, watching the last curls of smoke and steam from the bombings and attacks fade away. The briefings are more for their benefits than for yours-but you feel it best to summarize when you swivel your chair back around.
"So. More than twenty attackers, directed at five different locations. All of them with false teeth so we cannot trace their world of origin with isotope mapping. Our adversary is well funded to have such lavish budgets to obscure the origins of their suicide troopers. And equally foolish to tip their hands in such a way as to their true size and resources." You nod to your spymistress. "Director. Could we have done such a thing?"
The director, even colder than her daughter, nods. "Yes, artificial teeth are relatively easy. But what would be the point? We have terrorist cells and counter-revolutionaries within our borders. Any attacks I order can be pinned on such groups with a little misdirection. Others may suspect, but nothing may be proved. And while it is within our capabilities, I may remind everyone that we are...exceptional in our acquisition of such technologies. Our local rivals would be hard pressed to assemble such a team, and I do not see why they would bother with such misdirection. It is only effective if, for instance, these were all foreigners from many points of origin as our immigration records show."
General Federov leans forward, cross. "Do you mean to tell me that these men were admitted legally? What kind of failure is this that you admit to it so casually?"
You compose yourself and interject. "The kind that is unavoidable, so long as we allow people to enter our nation with thoughts of their own. And since Alpha Cache is invasive and ultimately destructive, we cannot police the thoughts and motives of our foreign guests. These were all model guests before they struck. The weapons were apparently smuggled in months ago and hidden in caches by another group who already left. Their paperwork was only the finest in forgeries, and every one died in their attacks or took fast-acting poison. So they were probably from the Inner Sphere-more than that it is impossible to say with certainty. So thank God for small mercies-it will be at least three months before anyone who sent them receives a report on their status. We have, if nothing else, time to prepare to intercept this report or any new orders."
Federov is not put at ease-and he won't be until he's had a chance to rant. He thumps the table. "ComStar! It must have been ComStar! They can make forgeries as good as the real thing because they make the real things! I have told you all again and again that they are the true secret masters."
Sasha the elder interjects. "We are considering that-but of course, the LIC would have reason to hate us as well. Or SAFE. Our very existence and success makes us an attractive target. It is the interest of 'civilization' not to allow the barbarians to grow too strong. And we cannot retaliate openly, lest they crush us with open force." She steeples her fingers. "Do not fret General. These men drank water and ate food at some point in the past five years. The isotopes of each world are like a fingerprint. We can trace them back to their point of origin-it will simply take time." That you're less certain about...but it seems like the obvious course of action.
Now you just need to figure out how to spin this to the public at tonight's press conference.
---
You're apparently free to go-you'll be staying in a different hotel for the next week, since apparently the aversion to overt security doesn't rule out installing more passive and hidden measures around and in your new apartment. The shift will take a while though, so you've been told not to head there until 10 PM. Work is nearly over, but you get the feeling that something's going down that's bigger than you. At least they've sent a new car around, one with a curiously heavy door and thick glass.
[ ] Find some news about what's happened-consult public sources, TVs, newspapers, things like that.
[ ] Work's gossip channels are more reliable than mass media-maybe you can get there if you leave now.
[ ] Panic time-are you being strung out as bait? Maybe look into illegal weapons and personal protection?
[ ] Other/Write in?