Just The Ticket
Neo Venetia City
Damon Vicenza made his way past the bustling streets of the nation?s capital, filled with EUSC-peacekeepers on patrol, marketplaces filled with people bartering for goods, and bicyclers traveling the streets making their way around the occasional automobile and military convoys. Vicenza walked into an open air restaurant, rays of sunshine cutting through the establishment. He sat down in front of a man reading The New Republic, and began to speak.
**?I was told to meet with you, Mr. Stavros.?
?Yes, good to see you Mr. Vicenza. We?ve been watching the elections with close interest. Your MPF party is doing well, but we were hoping that they would do better.?
?We still have a month before elections are held, and still much campaigning to do. I think we will manage to win control of the new government.?
?Good. I?ve requested a meeting with you because I?m going to make sure that happens. The Federal Republic is keenly interested in a victory for the Movement for the Popular Front. We can provide you with whatever you need. Money, security, guns?even votes.?**
A stony silence fell on Vicenza?s lips. He could barely utter a word. After several moments that stretched on, he spoke.
**?I?I don?t know what to say to that.?
?Say that you?re honored for the support, and that you welcome it. The BIO will be in touch with you again.?**
Stavros handed him a card that read ?International Exports Service? with an address in downtown NV City. Vicenza took the card, and looked it over carefully before putting it in his breast pocket.
?We?re going to have to work together to stop the Communists and the Angleter Unionists. We have a shared interest in Leon Biarritz becoming the first PM of the new Neo Venetia. I?ll be seeing you.?
Stavros walked out of the restaurant with a cool swagger. Biarritz took out his cellular phone, and dialed Leon Biarritz.
?Hello Mr. Biarritz?I just met with our friend?I think this election has taken a good turn for us??