Their Name is Treason

[Kaisertum Österreich]

OOC: This thread will chronical the story of a Turkish-Austrian organized crime ring operating inside the Austrian Empire known mainly for their brutality and their reputation as one of the largest drug cartels in Europe. The Organization, known as The Knights of the Cresent Moon, will be the main enemy, though a few twists and turns along the way will bring some hated faces to rival Christoph Fischer and his Das Reinste. My goal here is to entertain you all by trying to out-do my work in the infamous "The Thorns in My Side," so hopefully you will all enjoy. If you really, really like gangster flicks this is right up your alley

Sarajevo, Bosnia, Austrian Empire
28 July, 2010
02:30

The night air was cool, giving them a repreave from the hot summer sun they had driven in all day. The crew was made up of mainly Turks, though some Serbs and Bosniaks filled their ranks, and they worked diligently this evening unloading a large, stolen, armored truck. Four men stood, shadowed by the lack of light in the alley, carrying illegal M-16's and gaurding the work that continued. The others, about thirteen of them, hauled huge loads of packages from the armored rear of the truck. The driver and his team of three had called these other men not ten minutes before to discuss the unloading of the cargo, which would take more time than they had if they didn't have help. When the last of the heavy packages was carried into the rear of the warehouse, the driver shook the hands of the men who had helped and he climbed back into the truck, speeding off. Inside the musty, abandoned warehouse was a large stockpile of something, some in crates, some in bags.

Outside a black Mercedes had pulled up, lights shut off before entering the alley, and two men stepped out, the first a short Serbian man with a thick moustache and the other a finely dressed and primmed Turk. Slowly they entered the old building, careful not to make any knowledge of their entrance.

"Good evening, gentlemen," the Turk said in a smooth voice. The men all jumped and turned, but were relieved when they saw the man; greeted him. "I assume it's all there and unspoiled?"

One of the men answered him, saying it was. The tall Turk made his way to the massive stack, pulled out a knife from inside his suit jacket and proceeded to cut the brown paper wrapper away from one of the packages.

His name was Afet Çelik, a notorious Turkish-Austrian crime boss, leader of the crime ring The Knights of the Cresent Moon. His wit, charm, and deep pockets had kept him out of jail and his flawless criminal mind made him impossible to prosecute. He was clean as far as any police or government agency could find, but they knew better and had chased his every move for nearly ten years. Çelik was 35, but still very young in appearance, save for the few wrinkles in his forehead and the bags that had begun to form under his eyes. His cold black eyes and equally as dark hair made him look frightening and yet strangely charismatic.

As he split the old brown paper and folded it away, he revealed a smooth plastic covering on what appeared to be a white brick or a plastic wrapped bag of flour. His smooth face was suddenly cut by a broad smile and he lovingly stroked the package with a diamond-ringed hand. Then he rose and turned to the men behind him and nodded as he proceeded to walk right through them. "Good work." Reaching into his jacket pocket he pulled out a fat green roll held by a rubberband and tossed it to one of the men saying there was more than enough for all of them and he took his leave, making his way back to the car outside.

[Kaisertum Österreich]

Austrian Department of Internal Affairs and Security
Budapest, Hungary, Austrian Empire
29 July, 2010
14:15

Budapest was buzzing that afternoon with the usually daily activities, but the traffic was a little worse than usual due to a car accident in the middle of town. The main square was alive with locals and tourists who dodged in and out of shops and cafes. Just off the square on a quiet side street sat a large government building, very modern in style and pleasing to the eyes; it was the Department of Internal Affairs and Security (DIAS).Many long halls and cubicles filled the inside, offices with wonderfully polished name plates and grand oak doors. On the second floor, in a corner office next to the elevator, sat an office, the office of a man named Franz Heinrich. Heinrich was an agent for the Austrian Criminal Investigation Bureau, a go between for the CIB and the DIAS (basically a glorified whipping boy for the Secretary of Internal Affairs and Security).

He had spent the morning in total boredom, checking football scores on the internet because he knew their browsing was monitored. The only interesting thing that had happened all morning, other than the typing errors in his paperwork, had been the raised voices down the hall, though he had only caught a hint of the discussion (something about a crime ring and a murder, so nothing unusual). But a news article later that morning had made it all come back to haunt him. Finally, he built up the courage to go and ask the Director.

The door was beautifully polished and the name plate pristine, read: Secretary Metzger. Secretary of Internal Affairs and Security, Harold Metzger, was an old man, grouchy and with a razor for a tongue. When he knocked Metzger called him in and he stepped into the room and took a seat. "What's on your mind, Heinrich?"

"Well, sir, I heard voices this morning and a news article on the same subject... just wanted to be let in on the information, since I'm cleared for it."

"Well, Heinrich, we're in a pickle... the Kaiser is breathing down our necks, and my ass is on the line. The crime ring, The Knights of the Cresent Moon, and their leaders are more active recently. A large shipment was brought across the southern border, right under our nose and under the noses of the HOE. Three men were murdered in their sleep in a Bosnian border village, and our informant tells us a huge amount of cocaine was in that shipment. We've formed a taskforce to handle it, needs a leader. Call it the Counterterror and Criminal Taskforce (CCT). Problem is the vigilante military group called The Order of the Bear is taking it into their own hands, this could cause a bigger mess... We all saw what they did in the Civil War, killing Das Reinste officers almost daily, and killing a large number of so called "friendly" troops in the process."

He took a breath and continued, "So anyway, basically we have an informant who is seeking our protection as he is a former member, an agent inside their ranks, a mess of a crime scene, and the politicians breathing down my neck..."

Heinrich rose and stepped toward the door, his brain racing from all the information, "Well, sir, goodluck, I take my leave."

As he stepped through the door, Metzger called after him, "By the way, I'm putting you in command of the taskforce... it's newly formed, they're waiting for you in the meeting room."

[Kaisertum Österreich]

A dark alley
Vienna, Austrian Empire
10 August, 2010

The large Volkswagon sedan pulled into an alley between two rather large buildings and killed its lights, the driver stepping out cautiously, quietly. He reached to the waistband of his pants and tapped the Glock with a sense of security, but a voice from the shadows startled him. "Put that away, Kropp..." He wheeled around to find he was standing face to face with the burliest man he had ever seen, and maybe the ugliest...

He had pale skin and dark, menacing eyes, his face pock-marked and home to a large scar that ran from his left temple to just below his left eye. His blond hair was oily and thin, his lips thin and blue as though he were dead. Kropp was frightened. "Are you Alexander von Strassel?"

"In the flesh!" the man said excitedly. "I am the man of legend! Leader of the notorious Order of the Bear!"

"I'm Karl Kropp," he said slowly, "I'm interested in joining your cause... to protect my home and my family."

Von Strassel raised his brow and said to the young man, "You know what our organization stands for? You know we are considered outlaws by the Austrian government, though we do their work for them? You know how much blood stains the hands of the Order? How many heads are now detatched by our doing? You know of the stories told about the mysterious deaths of ex-members? We do not take membership lightly..." He paused for a moment and watched the color drain out of Kropp's face. "I'm sure you know all of that... but there is a test."

He beckoned for the young man to follow him and they entered the side door of one of the buildings, Kropp following closely behind. "So... You know that the AIS has been keeping tabs on us? The CIB bugs all of our lines so that they can watch our every move... They act like we are traitors! We are on their side and they crucify us for it! A damn outrage it is! The Kaiser says our ways are too harsh and that we should allow the law to handle these things... well, if we did that how would it get resolved?! We are solely responsible for the downfall of Das Reinste..."

"If you don't mind my saying," Kropp nearly whispered, "didn't an agent of the AIS infiltrate the organization and kill their leader?"

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe he was a member of the Order? Our members are everywhere... all around..."

[Kaisertum Österreich]

CCT Headquarters
Budapest, Hungary, Austrian Empire
25 August, 2010
10:30

Heinrich sat at the head of the briefing table in their meeting room, looked over his team he had grown to know well in the past month. His mind wandered away from conversation and studied each individual. Directly across from him at the other end of the long table was a mountain of a man with flowing black hair and the longest, most crooked nose he had ever seen. The man was bespectacled and had aged well, his massive bulk of muscle still in good shape. His name was Vlad Obrenović, a Serb assassin, well known for his ability to break bones with his bare hands. Obrenović was the muscle of the team, the glorified hit-man, hired for the sole purpose of killing.

His attention then drifted to a beautiful young woman, about his age, with long flowing blond hair: Maria Steinhauser. She was the brain, the number cruncher and intelligence expert. She was an AIS agent, hand picked to be the direct link to the latest information on national security and whereabouts of highly dangerous threats. Heinrich was infatuated from the first moment he met her, but she was as cold as the Alpine winter and the most professional, cut-throat business woman the world had ever seen.

The others around the room included the street informant, the mole, the swindler: Carlo Tortellini, born to a family of Italian immigrants. Stephen Jodl, the demolition expert, Karl Montag, the computer expert, and the driver, notorious street racer, Alfred Ludwig, all sat among the group.

As his mind wandered back to the conversation at hand he thought how rag-tag this team must have looked...