06-24-2015, 04:57 PM
The briefing was held in the courtyard of the Legion's headquarters in Sierra Leone. Dozens of Legionnaires had gathered, and were greatly outnumbered by the refugees-turned-aid workers that were still housed in the adjacent buildings the Legion had appropriated to house them all in the first day of the fighting. Most had been moved to more organized camps, and those few that remained were being trained in first aid, administration, cooking, and a myriad of other supporting skills needed to keep the city from floundering under the current atmosphere.
The briefing had was not voluntary. Most of the Legion's surviving soldiers in Freetown were present. What few vehicles at their disposal had been fueled and what little ammunition that had remained in the supply issued out before the briefing had been announced. Word had already begun to spread that Interi-President General Wallace-Johnson had demanded Jacques' presence. There was also rumours of a Legion supply convoy that had driven from Casablanca only a few hours from the city bringing the promise of reinforcements and much needed aid supplies.
Jacques emerged from the main building as Legionnaires were still filing out into the courtyard. The mood was tense and sullen. Memories of the Masiaka refinery and their cowardly withdrawal still fresh in everyone's minds. Most understood that had they fought there it would have meant death in the long run, but that was besides the point. That was the sort of politicking logic that saw most of them abandon their home countries and militaries of previous service. Do what was right, not what was economical.
He was shrugging into the heavy kevlar vest of the old FELIN 2 combat gear, his pistol strapped to his left thigh. Once the vest was strapped down, his white Kepi cap was produced from a pocket and neatly placed atop his head, the white neck cover protecting the back of his head and neck from the sun.
A pair of officers followed him out then jogged forward to join the gathered crowd as Jacques climbed onto the roof of one of the Legion's SUVs, where he waited in silence for a moment as the last stragglers joined the crowd and everyone fell silent.
“Many of you have questions. About Masiaka, about my decisions there. I gave the order to withdraw, to cede the refinery to the government troops. I will not explain that decision. I gave the order. I accept responsibility of the consequences.”
He would take the their blame for that. Having someone to hold the guilt for that decision would save many from placing it upon themselves. The responsibility of leadership was not without it's burdens.
“Now I have a request of you. I do not ask this of you lightly. And know that this is not an order. Should you choose, I shall do all in my power to see you returned to Morocco. Severance pay will be drawn, and you shall be returned to your countries of origin, or to wherever you choose as your next resident country.”
Jacques was unusually serious of tone; he was a gambler by reputation, and was taking a big risk with the offer. The Legionnaires gathered before him had joined a private security company. Good pay, risky employment, but they were not soldiers anymore.
“Legion Premiere is no more. The company has been folded, the private investors are seeking lawsuits over lost profits and stocks. The government of Morocco seeks the closing of our headquarters and the training camp at Arfoud. The Legion stands, and I have made a decision. Commandant Tuff and the senior officers have sided with me in this decision, and we have left any angry politicians in our wake in the past few days.”
He let the implication sink in on those gathered for a moment. He was creating his own personal army, and breaking laws to do it.
“The world suffers a lot. Not because the violence of bad people. But because of the silence of the good people. I am tired of being silent. I am tired of appeasing laws set by politicians. I am tired of protecting profit margins, rather then people. And I am tired of governments failing their countries. Wallace-Johnson ordered the slaughter of innocent people under the protection of his soldiers. Orders his soldiers carried out without hesitation. Katlego ordered the slaughter of children, orders his soldiers carried out without hesitation.”
The quote was of Napolean, something that seemed to surprise people whenever they learned it. He had ordered they abandon refugees, and they had hesitated. But they had obeyed out of trust. The deaths of those refugees was the catalyst that had sparked the will to fight back among the people of Freetown. That support was what he needed to take the city as bloodlessly as possible. The support of his Legionnaires was what would see that accomplished.
“Wallace-Johnson has called me to meet him. He expects that I shall bow my head to his rule, and promise you men to train his soldiers, to win him the country, and see the Temne people slaughtered. I have a different plan."
The order was that he go alone, but of course he would have an escort to the parliamentary building that the General had made his headquarters. That escort would include the Legion's ace in the hole, Jared Vanders, should the man choose to involve himself.
"It is folly for a man to pray to the gods for that which he has the power to obtain by himself. I have the support of the city police. The military garrison of the airport. City workers. They are poised to take control of key locations throughout the city, with your support. Wallace-Johnson's soldiers are cowards. They do not deserve the title. An organized resistance will see them surrender in short order, especially once I have cut the head from the snake.”
A signal was given through the HUD of his Landwarriors. Every Legionnaire gathered received a datapacket on their own Landwarriors, or their Wallets, or PDAs. Inside were instructions for those key locations, of whom they would work with in seeing those sites secured. Known patrol routes of Wallace-Johnson's soldiers. The Legion headquarters had been hard at work with the planning of Operation Rien N'Empêche.
“We are working on a very tight time line here, gentlemen. It is time a difference was made. Sierra Leone will be whole again.”
The briefing had was not voluntary. Most of the Legion's surviving soldiers in Freetown were present. What few vehicles at their disposal had been fueled and what little ammunition that had remained in the supply issued out before the briefing had been announced. Word had already begun to spread that Interi-President General Wallace-Johnson had demanded Jacques' presence. There was also rumours of a Legion supply convoy that had driven from Casablanca only a few hours from the city bringing the promise of reinforcements and much needed aid supplies.
Jacques emerged from the main building as Legionnaires were still filing out into the courtyard. The mood was tense and sullen. Memories of the Masiaka refinery and their cowardly withdrawal still fresh in everyone's minds. Most understood that had they fought there it would have meant death in the long run, but that was besides the point. That was the sort of politicking logic that saw most of them abandon their home countries and militaries of previous service. Do what was right, not what was economical.
He was shrugging into the heavy kevlar vest of the old FELIN 2 combat gear, his pistol strapped to his left thigh. Once the vest was strapped down, his white Kepi cap was produced from a pocket and neatly placed atop his head, the white neck cover protecting the back of his head and neck from the sun.
A pair of officers followed him out then jogged forward to join the gathered crowd as Jacques climbed onto the roof of one of the Legion's SUVs, where he waited in silence for a moment as the last stragglers joined the crowd and everyone fell silent.
“Many of you have questions. About Masiaka, about my decisions there. I gave the order to withdraw, to cede the refinery to the government troops. I will not explain that decision. I gave the order. I accept responsibility of the consequences.”
He would take the their blame for that. Having someone to hold the guilt for that decision would save many from placing it upon themselves. The responsibility of leadership was not without it's burdens.
“Now I have a request of you. I do not ask this of you lightly. And know that this is not an order. Should you choose, I shall do all in my power to see you returned to Morocco. Severance pay will be drawn, and you shall be returned to your countries of origin, or to wherever you choose as your next resident country.”
Jacques was unusually serious of tone; he was a gambler by reputation, and was taking a big risk with the offer. The Legionnaires gathered before him had joined a private security company. Good pay, risky employment, but they were not soldiers anymore.
“Legion Premiere is no more. The company has been folded, the private investors are seeking lawsuits over lost profits and stocks. The government of Morocco seeks the closing of our headquarters and the training camp at Arfoud. The Legion stands, and I have made a decision. Commandant Tuff and the senior officers have sided with me in this decision, and we have left any angry politicians in our wake in the past few days.”
He let the implication sink in on those gathered for a moment. He was creating his own personal army, and breaking laws to do it.
“The world suffers a lot. Not because the violence of bad people. But because of the silence of the good people. I am tired of being silent. I am tired of appeasing laws set by politicians. I am tired of protecting profit margins, rather then people. And I am tired of governments failing their countries. Wallace-Johnson ordered the slaughter of innocent people under the protection of his soldiers. Orders his soldiers carried out without hesitation. Katlego ordered the slaughter of children, orders his soldiers carried out without hesitation.”
The quote was of Napolean, something that seemed to surprise people whenever they learned it. He had ordered they abandon refugees, and they had hesitated. But they had obeyed out of trust. The deaths of those refugees was the catalyst that had sparked the will to fight back among the people of Freetown. That support was what he needed to take the city as bloodlessly as possible. The support of his Legionnaires was what would see that accomplished.
“Wallace-Johnson has called me to meet him. He expects that I shall bow my head to his rule, and promise you men to train his soldiers, to win him the country, and see the Temne people slaughtered. I have a different plan."
The order was that he go alone, but of course he would have an escort to the parliamentary building that the General had made his headquarters. That escort would include the Legion's ace in the hole, Jared Vanders, should the man choose to involve himself.
"It is folly for a man to pray to the gods for that which he has the power to obtain by himself. I have the support of the city police. The military garrison of the airport. City workers. They are poised to take control of key locations throughout the city, with your support. Wallace-Johnson's soldiers are cowards. They do not deserve the title. An organized resistance will see them surrender in short order, especially once I have cut the head from the snake.”
A signal was given through the HUD of his Landwarriors. Every Legionnaire gathered received a datapacket on their own Landwarriors, or their Wallets, or PDAs. Inside were instructions for those key locations, of whom they would work with in seeing those sites secured. Known patrol routes of Wallace-Johnson's soldiers. The Legion headquarters had been hard at work with the planning of Operation Rien N'Empêche.
“We are working on a very tight time line here, gentlemen. It is time a difference was made. Sierra Leone will be whole again.”