Realistic or Modern Flintlock Logistic Incorporated -Main Thread-

[Becker]

Prologue


The year is 2020 and the world still burns with conflict. From religious and ideological revolutions to all out corporate warfare and another cold war between the Western and Eastern powers teeters on the edge of going hot. The United States of America and The People's Republic of China are locked in an intense game of cat and mouse, both countries have deployed vast naval groups to display a 'show of force' across the Pacific ocean. Atomic armageddon is a button press away and mutually assured destruction is certain, should the missiles be launched.

With a possible third world war on the horizon, it's become a very profitable time to be in the arms dealing industry.

Our story begins at the private FLI airstrip in Singapore. With it's location in Eastern Asia, aircraft loaded with munitions, medical supplies and weapons can easily reach from as south as the sun scorched lands of Australia to the snow covered, northern wilderness of Anchorage, Alaska. To little surprise; given the hostile situation in the pacific sea, many small Singapore Navy vessals patrol their national waters and regularly search any incoming merchant-vessels from the powerhouses of the United States of American and the People's Republic of China. Despite their obvious lack of firepower, Rear-Admiral Lew Chi Mihn has expressed complete confidence on national television that his brave men and women will protect Singapore's waters from becoming a battle-ground between Chinese and American forces. Even with the military's words of peace and security, everyone is on edge. More recently there have been discussions whether or not to end the lease on the airstrip to decrease the chance of any third parties from influencing the tense situation.

However, politics aside, FLI has continued to operate within legal limitations, for the time being. The people living nearby the air-strip have become accustomed to watching large volumes of cargo being transported in and out of the Soviet-Era transport aircraft that lined any viable space in the otherwise crampt strip of land. With orders flooding in from all across Asia, tired pilots were having to be enticed with bonuses in order to meet quotas. By later afternoon, the vast majority of the ground crew are exhausted and near heat stricken from the unrelenting sunlight that bears down on the tiny nation.

​

Anthony "Tony" Harris
-Arms Dealer-
-FLI Singapore Airstrip- ​

Tony sat in one of many spare offices within the main Terminal building, it's walls uninteresting and plain whilst a cheap, wall mounted fan provided little relief against the unbearable heat that stagnated in the old structure. Only the glass wall that revealed the busy airstrip behind the building prevented him from losing his mind whilst he waited, staring at his laptop feeling even more worse since he was sat in a uncomfortable office chair. It was already four in the afternoon, Tony had since discussed over twenty buisness contracts and delegated the necessary paperwork to the clients. Rocking back and forth in the chair as a way of coping with the suffering conditions, he paused from typing to wipe away the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and just as things couldn't get worse. His phone began to emit the intro to Dare by Gorillaz, a tell-tale sign of his new Boss, Alfred Flint. Glacing over at the vibrating and vocalizing phone by his laptop, Tony couldn't help but let out a sigh before picking it up and wedging it against his ear whilst continuing to fill out form after form.

"Mr Flint, Sir?" The jet-lag he felt had not quite receded from travelling the fiftheen hour journey to Singapore from his home-city of Plymouth in the United Kingdom. Tony's voice was groggy and irritable but for the sake of appearances, he sat straight and listened attentively to Alfred as he spoke. Behind him, he swiveled in the chair to look out of the window and admire the 'military clock-work' that was the ground-crews operating machinery to move cargo from truck to plane. At a glace it would seem as though the air-strip was a blur of yellow safety jackets and hard-hats. A faint grin fell on his face as Tony took stock on just how busy the team were going to be.

"Ah, Mr Harris. I hope you have had chance to settle in your new position, I also am interested to hear your thoughts about the security team provided? It's important to me that everyone is... content with working alongside their colleagues." Alfred's voice was calm, Tony pictured the man sitting back in a leather recliner and gazing out over a rain-soaked England. Despite FLI ceasing it's main operations in the United Kingdom since the Falklands investigation, Alfred had insisted on remaining in his home country. Perhaps it was best to remain close to a wound that never closed fully. Tony admired Alfred secretly for the new head of Flintlock often took time away from the same old dreary corporate decision making to reach out and speak amongst the families that lost loved ones due to the Exocet missiles fired during the conflict so many years ago.

"Yes Sir, it's a lovely country and the people working here have been very welcoming. In regards to the close-protection security, I do have a few concerns if I may bother you with them Sir?"

"Of course Mr Harris, please speak your mind, they're your team after-all."

Anthony flicked through the stack of 'Personnel Profiles' folders that lay next to his laptop, between moments of madness in dealing with client requests and taking several breaks to escape from the horrible heat that clung to everything upon infiltrating the building through the sun-roofs. He occasionally had the time to read the documentation that came with the new team he was meant to meet this afternoon. Several photos alongside brief histories lay in each tan coloured folder, there wasn't a mass of information but just enough to give Tony a general idea of who he was working with.

"Viktor Alex-.. Alexeyev? Russian, thirty-two, former Russian Military. I am aware, Mr Flint, Sir that FLI has plenty of old soviet stock in storage and some of it is still in heavy use by the Russian Federation.." Resting his finger on the man's file as he spoke, he couldn't help but have a unhealthy opinion of the Russians after their on-going investigation in regards to the Salisbury poisonings, four years earlier.

"Your point, Mr Harris?" Tony heard a audible sigh as he pictured Alfred shuffling back in his cozy chair and sipping away on a glass of whiskey.

"Sir, I am just concerned about Mr Alex in case there are any... unbeneficial dealings between this company and the Federation. Everyone knows that Putin is in a difficult situation, being stuck between the Chinese and the Americans. Would it not be unreasonable to think that this 'High ranking' Russian could have something to do with the FSB or even the Foreign Intelligence Service? Keeping tabs on any third parties operating in and around the pacific sea?"

"I understand your concerns Anthony, however he was picked up by one of my personal colleagues in Russia and he had made the assurance that Mr Alexeyev made a choice of his own. I cannot disclose completely what occured over the phone as it is private information. I suggest that you get to know him and make a conclusion for yourself whether or not he can be trusted."

"Right.." Anthony was unconvinced but he falsely agreed nonetheless with Alfred's words.

"Anything else Mr Harris or can I let you get on with things?" Tony figured that his boss saw through the bluff and wanted the conversation over and done with. He couldn't agree more but he felt that one last thing needed clarifying.

"Sir, this situation in the East China Sea, is it really what this file says it is?" Tony shuddered slightly as he glanced over at a red leather file that laid on the other side of the room. He had read through it and instantly stowed it away as the contents filled him with dread.

"Yes Anthony.. it is. From what our sources believe, one of our freighters has changed course from Russia and is now steaming towards the North Koreans at top speed. No, there has been no indication from the crews and zero communications have been established. The most popular theory is that the original crew had false South Korean and Thai identification and are in fact North Korea military or con-pirates. Your first job it seems is to covertly intercept the cargo ship and retake it before it sails too deeply into waters that not even the U.S military would dare go after it." It was a Tony feared, a complete fuck-up that he'll have to sort out.

​

"I understand Sir, i'll take the right precautions and follow the instructions written in the file. I guess it would be a good chance to see how 'effective' the new team is." Anthony felt like he had just spoken similarly to a moron and he mouthed the word to himself to clarify that he did indeed sound like one.

"My thoughts exactly, Mr Harris. Now chop-chop and get on with it, if the North Koreans get their hands on the ship. They'll have enough fire-power in the cargo bays to kick off another Korean war... and we'll be blamed for it! Get that ship back and don't even think about scuttling it, I don't want any frill-seeking divers finding enough munitions to ever make an American blush." With Alfred's voice booming in his ear, Tony got the message that he was wasting precious time and should be focusing on preparing the team on the mission ahead.

"Of course Sir, I'll get on it as soon as everyone arrives." Clicking the red button to end the call, Tony felt himself sink deeper into the sweaty chair that stuck to him like fly-paper. It was almost certainly going to be a very long week to deal with this situation in the China Sea. Figuring he had a little bit of time before people arrived, he decided to straighten up the office and prepared some cold drinks. Because nothing says 'official business' like an arrangement of Pepsi cans, lining around the false-wooden table in the center of the room. Sighing to himself as he returned to his laptop, he went about ordering the exact equipment required for this kind of operation. Leaning over and grasping at the red leather file that he had earlier tried to ignore, he read through it and agreed briefly to some of it's suggestions.

First point of order was how the team were to get near to the container ship, the solution came as he looked back out of the window and grinned as 'Zeus' came into view as it taxied into position on the runway. From what the file said, Zeus is a Il-76 Soviet-Era heavy transport aircraft. This exact model is a IL-76MF and originally was in service with the Jordanian Airforce before being purchased by FLI in 2016 after it had flown for five years and badly needed some repair work. Not only is it capable of carrying over fourty tonnes of equipment but the rear tail has a twin 23mm cannon turret to engage ground targets and deter any 'unwanted' aircraft from following. A perfect fit for the team as it wouldn't be a huge surprise if they do end up needing some air-support every once in a while. The thought made Tony chuckle briefly before moving on to the next few pieces of hard-ware.

​

After the had closed in on the target, they would need to find a way of boarding it. After looking through what they had in storage and refering to a couple of suggestions made in the file. Tony came to the conclusion that two teams using a 'Rigid Hull Inflatable Boat', otherwise known as a RHIB would do just nicely as it would give both teams the space on-board each boat to guarantee safety in numbers and still have the horse-power to close the distance between themselves and the container ship once they had been dropped off from the back of 'Zeus'.

With a plan beginning to form in his mind, Tony sat back a little and decided perhaps it would be best to consult the team. Given that this would be their first mission together, he would like to see whom out of the lot would exhibit leadership skills and begin to understand each of their personalities. Placing up printed images of all the assets together onto a white-board in the back of the room He sat down, opened up a cold fizzy drink of Pepsi whilst he waited for everyone to arrive and take a seat at the table. It was certainly going to be a interesting time for sure, he even shuffled in his seat to look more upright and removed his jacket to reveal his plain white button shirt beneath. He figured that looking presentable would make a impression on the others as he was meant to be representing the company as a travelling Arms-dealer.​

 

[Shaded]

"Uh, sir?" a rather annoying and hitch pitched voice broke through to Viktor, disturbing him to a point which he released a groan of discomfort. Viktor was sprawled out in an odd angle, his broad shoulders and arms were cramped together while the left half of his upper body was hanging off of the back seat he was currently occupying. He could feel the seat digging into his back, his shoulders would be aching as well as his back whenever he decided to get on his feet. Truthfully Viktor knew he could be notoriously known for sleeping anywhere so it'd be expected that he could adjust to the aching he would get as the aftermath. When Viktor tried to adjust himself, he could hear the seats croak and his shoes scuff the back of the passenger seat.

"What?" he slurred, his accent making the English spoken question come off as 'vuhat', it was clearly a mispronunciation though he obviously understood the English language, having used it in the correct situation as a response. Viktor grunted once more, his low and rather groggy voice seemed to bounce around in the silent car. The only other noise Viktor could pick up on was the engine, other cars were also revving their engines as the taxi rolled down the street. "Why did you wake me?" he questioned of the man who seemed to be holding the steering wheel rather tightly. He was a local to Singapore, his own English a little rustic, that is how he would describe it at least, though he doesn't have much experience with the language.

"We are almost there, sir," the driver spoke, he seemed confused, but Viktor did as well from the expression on his face. Viktor had scrunched his black eyebrows together, brow furrowing until realization took over him. He had asked the driver the moment he sat down to wake him or inform him when he was halfway there. Viktor liked to be prepared for situations, and he had developed a rather organized mindset, so he often prepared for important matters early on. The only thing he really needed to do was to just wake himself up, nothing major he was just having some serious sleep problems, he liked to stay up later and sleep half the day away, a habit he was working on breaking but not successfully yet.

Viktor waved the driver off as he pushed the gas pedal which escalated them forward, it was then that he noticed that cool and slightly musky air was being shot through a ventilation system keeping them cooled off. He hadn't noticed it before but now that he had moved his body in a different direction, the side of his pale face was hit with the chilling air. His air was a little odd in his opinion, he lost a bet and got his hair chopped because of it. His 'recruiter' into FLI had thought it'd be funny to send Viktor out with a new hair cut that he didn't have an option of choosing. He was just glad he wasn't bald, he was old but not old enough to go hairless. Even as Viktor brought his hand up to run through his hair, he made it more of a mess than before, the strands at the top of his head which were longer flopped in different directions, he knew his last acquaintance said he'd look youthful again which nearly made Viktor snap at him. He didn't care what he looked like, he knew he was old compared to some of the new gunmen, he was still considered young just to some of the older generation.

The moment the car stopped, Viktor flicked his brown eyes up to the window opposite to where he lay using the door behind him to prop himself up. Kicking himself into gear, Viktor seemed to lean forward with renewed energy. The brute was rolling his shoulder out before planting his feet on the floor of the car, he hadn't dressed overly formally but in all was it really needed to dress up for a job like this? "Thanks,' Viktor piped up. Eventually, he stepped out of the car, lugging a duffel bag with him and a frown on his face.

By the time the heat slapped him in the face Viktor was already strolling into the airstrip, the buzz of the area was a little surprising. The workers adorned in yellow jackets were rushing around airplanes, loading the planes or unloading them, Viktor didn't particularly mind which they were doing. The Russian ex-military man was strolling on until he could reach his destination, the noise the planes and workers provided some sort of relaxation compared to what he was used to. He hadn't really found his calling since leaving Russia, he did believe that was his calling, so it confused him when he agreed on his own terms to join up with FLI. Of course, he did lose a bet, on more than one occasion against his 'recruiter'. First when he joined FLI, then his hair, and then the last one where he was stationed up with another arms dealer. "I'm just unlucky," he grumbled at last before strolling onwards towards the main building. "Or that coin flip is rigged," he kept grumbling to himself.

 

[Lurker]

"Why couldn't we just take a commercial flight?" Daru groaned loudly and voiced the same complaint he already had for what had to be the fifth time. The driver's voice was hollow. He was clearly tired of answering the same question over and over. "Not a commercial airport sir. I don't really think your business does work out in the public like that." Daru barely even listened to the answer as he typed away on his laptop. It had become habit at some point for his hands to always be moving. He had always had an incredibly hard time sitting still and the problem only grew worse if he was without a computer.

On the screen was the files for all the members of this so called team the hacker had been assigned to. He hadn't looked too far into it, merely pulled the pictures and brief background checks from them all. He had been sliding through them just to help himself pass the time. At the moment he was staring at the face of the man who would be their leader. How he was going to get such a rag tag group of people to come together? Who the hell knows. But he was the man tasked to do it. Anthony Harris. Went into the army right out of school. Probably the perfect little solider. Daru already didn't like him. Someone that played by the rules like that wasn't going to gel well with the hacker. Daru broke rules at will just because he got bored.

With a swipe to the right on the screen the next face was staring back at him. Oliver. Why was a martial artist needed for a team that dealt and handled guns? Who the hell knew Daru wasn't the one in charge. Another military kid. But this one had been dishonorably discharged. Clearly FLI was only hiring the best and brightest here. Next on the list of winners was Joseph Dela...Frenchie. Daru had already decided the man's nickname before he even met him. Frenchie has sold flowers...and then studied literature...And was now a weaponsmith. The FLI background checks were both extremely revealing and confusing. Maybe the recruiter got drunk one night, Daru didn't judge.

A bead of sweat fell off Daru's forehead and onto his keyboard, interrupting the hacker's thoughts. "Can't this damn AC go up any higher!?" He protested loudly and rest his head against the seat in front of him. "No sir it's already on full blast." "How much longer until we're there anyway?" "Well it's been five minutes since you last asked me so take the time I gave you then and subtract five." This got a smile on the hacker's face and he shook his head along with the teasing. "Alright fair enough. You know how badly I could ruin your life, right?" "Sir with all due respect I drive rough and tough thugs to and from this base for a living. I have been threatened by significantly more intimidating men than you." Another laugh from Daru as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and returned to his laptop.

Elanor Dalgaard. A medic that hadn't even finished getting their degree. Nothing surprised him at this point. Clearly the recruiter just didn't care anymore. So far the team was one for four. The leader seemed like the only competent one. Daru hated admitting it but the bar was already set so low Mr. Goodie Two Shoes was going to have to be the one he relied on. Continuing. Zahlil Asaad. He would have to accept Z because the tech wizard was never going to attempt to pronounce that in a million years. The guy looked the part for being the gunner of the group. Another military brat but at least the team was now two for five in terms of competence. Well three for six if you counted Daru.

More swiping. The team was proving to be a good enough distraction from the heat and bumpy ride. Iris Adell. Another medic. Another girl. How...Stereotypical. The only females on the team and they were both medics. Taking care of the big buff burly men. At least this one had a damn degree in her field. Rodrigo Torres. Another army brat. All these started blending together after a while. Maybe Daru was the weird one for having no military background at all. Nah, that couldn't be it. Michael Peterson. Another american. At least Daru would have something in common with someone in the team. Another army brat. Move on.

"We're here sir!" Daru nearly bolted out of the vehicle as soon as the man spoke. He groaned with relief and stretched his long legs with his laptop briefly forgotten in the car. "Oh my god it's even hotter out here!" He quickly gathered his belongings and made his way towards the first building he saw. Surely it would get better. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard and pulled out a smaller tablet from one of the pouches in the backpack he always carried with him. The information from his laptop had been synced with the tablet and he could now look at the dossiers while walking around the station. Daru thanked the driver for at least entertaining him during the ride.

Last town on the team. Andrew McAlpine. What a name. The tech enthusiast furrowed his eyebrow and tapped at the screen. There was an error loading the picture. "What the hell? Shitty wifi here I tell ya..." He shook his head and went about reading the rest of the background. Gee, imagine that. Another kid born and raised in the military. Daru rejected the urge to frisbee the tablet across the landing strip out of frustration as he swiped onto the final member of the team. Victor Alexeyev. His eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head forever at yet another military brat but something made him pause. Russian? That..Seemed like it was almost too convenient to not be planned. Russia would benefit greatly from having someone dealing to both sides of the war. Then as if on queue the very man who's picture Daru was staring at appeared.

Daru quickly stored the tablet back into his backpack and ran after the Russian. "Yo!" he called out to him just to get his attention and stopped once he was close enough to speak normally. "Viktor, right? Name's Daru. I will be your eyes and ears in the sky." Mostly bullshit. Daru hadn't even really looked at what the team would actually be doing. He had just joined FLI when he realized how much money was involved. Surely they didn't expect him to go onto the field though. If that was the case he'd just drain as much of the company's finances as he could and split.

Mentioned : Literally everyone
Interacting with : Shaded

 

[Shaded]

Viktor had strolled around on his own for a bit, it had given him the time to address some of the files he was given. Each had been labeled beforehand by himself with nationalities or where they were grabbed from at least. He knew he would have issues remembering something about them and grouped up the few apart of the team that came from the same continents such as North America, Europe, and so on. He had noted the fact that there were Americans on the team, an Italian, possibly one from Ireland or Scotland, and the big boss which was British. Most spoke English such as the Americans and the British one, that meant that a number of them would be primarily speaking English. In a way it made Viktor feel rather ahead of his game for learning the language when he was first recruited he had only known a little of the language so since then he had asked for help. At the time Viktor hadn't known he would be moved out of Russia but he didn't mind too much when he was told of being moved, so when he learned that the team would mostly be speaking English he was relieved. He hadn't wasted time learning the language for anything.

Unzipping his bag swiftly, Viktor set to work of rummaging around while walking at the same time. He felt the tips of his fingers brush against the files and pulled them out. He thumbed through them a bit, looking at the names and the different countries they came from as well. Accents would also be a big clue as to who they were, considering Viktor was the only Russian it was obvious that he would be odd to listen to, his accent coming off wouldn't be normal to any of the members of this security team.

Viktor turned his head, his hearing picking up on someone trying to catch another’s attention with an odd phrase of ‘yo’. It wasn’t long before he spotted the black haired guy catching up to him from behind. He had begun to slip the files back into his bag, from his phrases Viktor already knew who this guy was, one of the two Americans that would be working along with him. He seemed to be holding a tablet so he figured he was supposed to be one of the more tech involved associates. Possibly.

As he furthered the discussion, Viktor learned that the gentleman was indeed one of the Americans, Daru, he couldn’t remember very much on his file. To be fair, Viktor didn’t read up on many of their files, just the boss man’s. That British man was an odd one, he had it well not being in the line of fire and then he just seemed to pop up into the business, he figured he had enlisted around sometime due to family obligations. Viktor has side tracked himself, he usually did that when he was a bit tired.

“Daru, rad tebya videt’,” Viktor greeted, he forgot himself before quickly covering up his mistake of language. Truthfully he was a wee bit drowsy from sleeping in the car so it should be expected he would slip up every now and then. “I’m glad to be working alongside you, Daru, as you seem to know my name I am Viktor Alexeyev,” he presented himself, letting his hand outstretch itself in a hopes of a handshake. He was an open guy he supposed, but he could also be closed off by appearance which might dissuade his soon to be partners off. Maybe the new haircut made it easier for those to speak to him, maybe the old hag was actually looking out for him rather than sending him off with a new squad. “I don’t need eyes or ears though, just give me the orders and it will all be good to go,” he joked slightly, his accent and the language making his throat itch. Viktor never really relied on others, especially not those there facing the fire fight, he had always listen to the orders given but sometimes they aren’t always the smartest call while on the ground.

Interaction: Lurker