Post by Russia - Ivan Braginsky on Jun 7, 2015 0:40:18 GMT -5
Tokyo, Japan
The streets still rushed with high volumes of activity. Construction seemed to be taking place all over the tall skyscrapers and large populated city after the bomb raids over eight months ago. To see so many people going about their lives, rushing, hurrying to the next assignment, it proved their resilience. A simple bombing seemed to have come and gone; only growing their motivation. He had seen the wave of heavy manufacturing near the port. The new naval ships appeared to be popping out on the sea faster than Ivan could take a breath. Japan had taken a turning point in the war, and he expected to face far dangerous military offensive measure if it was not handled soon.
It had been difficult to sneak into the city. His own naval ship had acquired a Japanese fishing boat and boarded it with ease, taking control of the vessel. They brought him pass the naval lines and within the Japanese boarder. From there he traveled to Tokyo under the guise of a European Businessman. His giant duffle bag never leaving his side, and now, he stood in the center of one of Tokyo’s busiest sidewalks. Shorter people passed him, rushing by as he stared out into the masses.
A cool wind rushed through, pulling at his scarf and hair. He did not move, and no one seemed to notice. In a city with so many people surrounding you, you can feel truly alone. His business suit fit him snuggly, his black tie perfectly in place. He was only a European doing business during a terrible time to do business, and in some sense it held true.
It was only business.
He expected a camera might have caught his face at some point as he entered the city. He had not hid it. He wanted Japan to know he was here, and he knew news of him being in the center of his city had likely finally reached him.
Da, it had.
He felt eyes bearing into his back, familiar eyes of someone who saw him, really saw him. He smirked and turned to face the man. His violet eyes locked with his brown ones, reading them, daring him.
My present to you, he seemed to silently say as he dropped the duffle bag.
The Japanese Empire might have returned from his slumber, but the Russian Federation had never left. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two objects. His eyes never left the Empire. While America loved to depict him in his silly movies as an evil man who would stop everything to explain his plan, it was not the truth. He placed the gas mask on his head, and then held out the button for Japan to see.
Click.
The duffle bag exploded with Bolivian hemorrhagic fever, filling the air and everyone around them with the infectious disease.
The streets still rushed with high volumes of activity. Construction seemed to be taking place all over the tall skyscrapers and large populated city after the bomb raids over eight months ago. To see so many people going about their lives, rushing, hurrying to the next assignment, it proved their resilience. A simple bombing seemed to have come and gone; only growing their motivation. He had seen the wave of heavy manufacturing near the port. The new naval ships appeared to be popping out on the sea faster than Ivan could take a breath. Japan had taken a turning point in the war, and he expected to face far dangerous military offensive measure if it was not handled soon.
It had been difficult to sneak into the city. His own naval ship had acquired a Japanese fishing boat and boarded it with ease, taking control of the vessel. They brought him pass the naval lines and within the Japanese boarder. From there he traveled to Tokyo under the guise of a European Businessman. His giant duffle bag never leaving his side, and now, he stood in the center of one of Tokyo’s busiest sidewalks. Shorter people passed him, rushing by as he stared out into the masses.
A cool wind rushed through, pulling at his scarf and hair. He did not move, and no one seemed to notice. In a city with so many people surrounding you, you can feel truly alone. His business suit fit him snuggly, his black tie perfectly in place. He was only a European doing business during a terrible time to do business, and in some sense it held true.
It was only business.
He expected a camera might have caught his face at some point as he entered the city. He had not hid it. He wanted Japan to know he was here, and he knew news of him being in the center of his city had likely finally reached him.
Da, it had.
He felt eyes bearing into his back, familiar eyes of someone who saw him, really saw him. He smirked and turned to face the man. His violet eyes locked with his brown ones, reading them, daring him.
My present to you, he seemed to silently say as he dropped the duffle bag.
The Japanese Empire might have returned from his slumber, but the Russian Federation had never left. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two objects. His eyes never left the Empire. While America loved to depict him in his silly movies as an evil man who would stop everything to explain his plan, it was not the truth. He placed the gas mask on his head, and then held out the button for Japan to see.
Click.
The duffle bag exploded with Bolivian hemorrhagic fever, filling the air and everyone around them with the infectious disease.