“OK.” Corbec nodded. “I take it that they’re waiting for me in there?” He pointed at the Mansion, while getting to his feet. “Yes sir. But one more vital piece of news.” Xbox Halo Guy said. Corbec patted the tombstone of his dead wife before turning to walk back to the mansion. “You were saying…” Corbec prompted as they started their stroll. “We found The Forsaken centre of operations. If you turn to the last few pages, you’ll find a full report...” Corbec nodded, noting the several high-resolution photos taken of a far-off, vibrant tropical island chain. “The Jacutan Archipelago. Makes sense, but they’re hardly the first terrorist group to operate out of that region. When did you find this out?” Corbec asked. “When, sir? The images came through just now. One of our patrolling destroyers picked up strange radio signals purely by chance in the region. Reconnaissance Planes were sent up and there you have it. If you look at one of the photos… That one. It shows a small port in that bay there, that one just there.” Xbox Halo Guy was pointing to a picture of a small yet bustling port, partially concealed by a tall and foliage-covered weathered rock wall. There were small huts clustered around wooden piers, on which people, looking small enough to be toys, were frozen in their work forever. “How can you be certain this is The Forsaken? I don’t want a raid or an air strike to find out we attacked a bunch of pirates and nothing more.” Corbec explained. And his scepticism was well placed. This was indeed a port, but nothing distinguishing marked it out as a Forsaken base, let alone their centre of operations. “If you’ll turn to the next photo, then you’ll see.” Xbox Halo Guy prompted. Corbec flipped to the next image pinned by the clipboard. It was a zoomed in view on part of the port. It displayed the largest of all the port buildings, constructed out of a dried straw roof and bamboo walls. Along one side, a black banner with a white, clenched fist grasping a sword was proudly hung. The symbol of The Forsaken. “Alright. The Forsaken are there after all. So, they have a presence at a port, but that doesn’t mean they own the whole Archipelago.” Corbec said, still not entirely convinced. “Sorry, sir. If you could turn to the next picture. I was talking about a different one.” Corbec flicked to the next photo. It was Pyroshark. The image was even more zoomed in than the previous, displaying even the people scurrying around the port in a recognisable way. And one of those people, undoubtedly, was Pyroshark. The most wanted man on the planet, discovered by Flodland, the most powerful of Nations. [i]So, Pyroshark. If I have to burn that whole Island Chain into cinders to get you to flee your little hideaway and into the sights of my guns, then that’s what I’ll do.[/i] “Is he still there?” Corbec asked, impatient for more information now. “Report is that he boarded a truck about five minutes after that was taken, and headed deeper into the island. Satellite imagery has confirmed this. It also showed large Forsaken encampments and installations on that island, as well as others.” “Such as?” “Training Camps, Radio Stations, Ammunition Dumps, Motor Pools, Ports, the island you just looked at even had a small airport on it. This place looks like it houses an entire Army” “How could you tell?” Corbec queried. “I mean, surely these areas were camouflaged?” “That they were, but our satellites used infrared sweeps. Heat Detection’s a wonderful thing, no?” The duo reached the bottom of a small set of stone stairs, leading from the garden proper to a raised patio lined with old Cast Iron railings crated into intricate designs. “What are your orders sir?” Xbox Halo Guy asked as they took the first of the steps. “Tell the Navy that no units are to show suspicious activity. Perhaps its best to keep these bastards in a false sense of security. I won’t bring this news up in the conference now, lest we get The Forsaken all panicked.” They came to the top of the stairs and stopped for a moment. “What we need now is a quick and impressive victory, Xbox Halo Guy.” Corbec announced. “And I don’t mean a full-blown war, we can’t afford that. No, something small, but emphatic. Something that would cheer up the people and divert their attention from our ailing economy, at least until that matter’s dealt with.” Corbec handed back the clipboard, started off again for the Mansion and rubbed his chin. “Any ideas, sir?” Xbox Halo Guy ventured, curious. “Perhaps.” Corbec replied cryptically. “Right, well I have one last thing for you.” Xbox Halo Guy handed over a folder. “I won’t keep you though, they’re waiting in the Lancaster Suite.” “Very well then.” Corbec said in a distracted sort of way, taking the folder, opening the back door and disappearing inside. Corbec filled his speech to the press with reassuring words and promises of revenge on those who had struck such a savage blow. He whipped up the country into a frenzy with eloquent tones, and a masterful control of his native language. He star-struck the press and everyone watching the event live with his charismatic nature and natural skill with words, some observers even reckoned he was the best orator of the decade, if not his generation. His promises of vengeance were far from hollow however. Corbec’s people knew that this man lived up to his promises, and had guided them through many a tough situation, only for their beloved country to come out the other side with even better prospects. When Corbec finished, he did so to a standing ovation and roars of approval. Eventually, a chant of “Hail Corbec! Hail Corbec! Hail Corbec!” Broke out. Once again, he’d charmed the world. Later, before he settled in for the night, Corbec would check the almost forgotten folder that Xbox Halo Guy had given him before his brilliant speech. He opened it up and briefly scanned the contents. Something about a full and complete account of the circumstances surrounding the attack, including preparedness for, and the immediate response to, the attack. Apparently all it needed was for him to scribble his signature at the bottom to authorise it. Too tired to care, Corbec scrawled his name on the dotted line at the bottom, set the folder aside and got some well-earned rest. [i]Later that night.[/i] Back in Flondon itself, the rain was pouring down. Some joked that it was as if an entire ocean was being tipped on their heads. Others in more sombre moods mused that it was as if the heavens cried for Floodland’s loss. JS096 scampered along through a deserted industrial district in the pitch black night. No lights were on around him, and the infernal rain-clouds above blocked out any star or moon light, understandably making vision hard. Nearly running into a wall several times, JS finally found what he looked for. A derelict warehouse’s side door, with a sword held in a clenched fist carved onto it. It was tough to make out, but JS had made this run a few times before, so knew his way. He knocked on the door three times, paused, three times again, paused, then once more. A shutter opened, pouring stale yellow light out. “Oppression rules…” Stated a rough voice from within. “…And The Forsaken rise.” JS replied, completing the code phrase. “Welcome, valued friend.” [Edited on 07.08.2007 12:16 PM PDT]