Don't Call It A Comeback

Angleter · 22 Mar 2020, 17:01

BASEMENT ROOM
THE SEAFARER TAVERN, NEO-VENETIA CITY
11.47pm, MARCH 21st, 2020

"A fucking disaster. Every single fucking time."

Everyone at the table looked up as Spartaco stormed in and threw his chair back. Spartaco went to sit down until he realised that, in his anger, he'd moved his chair a bit too far away from the table. Gritting his teeth, he moved it forward again at sat at the head of the table. Four men sat on each side of the table, all gazing intently at him.

"Enrico, what went wrong, my brother? This time it's seven comrades arrested. Last time the damn thing went off in our comrades' faces. It's always something with your unit. Every time."

Enrico, grim-faced, clenched his chair as subtly as he could. "The last time, you know, they were boys. They knew as little of chemistry as they did of basic paying attention to things. They thought they were invincible, a—"

"I know what fucking happened last time, Enrico, you've told the same damn story enough times. This time. What went wrong?"

"They found out. Somehow, they found out."

"Somehow? Enrico, somehow? No, not somehow. Someone. They had to find out from SOMEONE."

A portly man, slumped in his chair next to Enrico, spoke up.

"Your unit is leaking, Enrico. That gets a few people arrested today, a few people killed tomorrow, but it's all in your unit for now. But next week, it's you. And the week after, it's all of us." The large man circled his finger round, gesturing to the entire table. "We all remember what happened to Comrade Rolando."

Spartaco pounded the table. "Comrade Rolando trusted and died! We won't do that, Enrico. If an arm is infected, we will cut it off before it kills us. Do you understand?"

Enrico fidgeted slightly in his chair. "There's no infection in my unit."

Another man, tall, thin, elderly and ginger-haired, raised his hand slightly and started to speak. "Of course there's an infection, Enrico. And we all know it's Alberto."

Enrico's eyebrow twitched. "Alberto? Never. Look, I will find ou—"

Spartaco pounded the table again. "No. Come on, Enrico. There's what, four people in your unit who know enough. Two are in prison right now. One is you. And the other... you go and investigate him. Come to a good conclusion. 24 hours."

Enrico spoke stiffly. "I will investigate."

Spartaco nodded and saluted. "Good. Gentlemen, to the Social Republic."

"THE SOCIAL REPUBLIC," the men said in unison, saluting, before filing out of the room.

AIC CENTRAL OFFICE
NEW BIRMINGHAM, ANGLETER
12.26am, MARCH 22nd, 2020

Christina tapped on the door of the Director's office. "Sir, I, er, I think you might want to see this."

The door swung open. Director Sol Hassan strode out and made a beeline straight for Christina's desk, Christina trying to keep pace behind him. "What's the good word, Tina?"

"Four messages in the last thirty minutes. All my men."

"Hmmm. Have we ever thought about putting any female informers in the Social Republicans?"

"They're notoriously male-dominated. They have a hard time attracting women to Maoism, to the extent that anyone that joins is instantly suspected of being a honey trap. They'd get shot within minutes. But look."

Director Hassan read the messages on Christina's screen.

"Christ, they're really going after 119, aren't they?"

"105, 109, 113, and 126 all reporting the same thing. They were all at the same meeting."

"Supreme Military Council. Just what we were expecting."

"Sounds like it. But 126 is being told to neutralise 119 by, what, 11.30pm tonight.

"Right, but what the fuck is 109 playing at? He knows that 119 is ours, right?"

"Yeah, I can't explain it. 109 and 126 both know 119 is ours. I think 105 and 113 have probably worked it out. But 126 and 105 still don't suspect each other."

"That's one thing, I suppose. The moment they all know each other, they start acting like they do, and the true believers get suspicious. We learned that the hard way in the '60s. Put the reunification with South Angleter back a decade."

"What do we do here, boss? How do we get 119 out?"

"We can't."

Christina's head turned so quickly it hurt her neck. "What?"

"We can't. If 119 goes then they'll suspect 126 of tipping him off. We can't lose 126."

"Is there any way we can shift this onto 109? He's way out of order; we need to recall him."

"109's crazy, but everyone's fucking terrified of him. He's worth even more to us than 126."

"When's he ever come good for us, boss? I've been on this desk for two years; he's never come good. Either he's going native or he's just enjoying the chaos a little too much."

"Or both," said Director Hassan. "But no, he's playing a long game. We have to let this play out. If 126 can come up with something, he will, but we have to let this play out."

STORAGE FACILITY #472
ACCO INDUSTRIAL ESTATE, NEAR ACCO, NEO-VENETIA
11.01pm, MARCH 22nd, 2020

"...Comrades Veneto, Marcantonio, Palmiro, Dandolo, and Roberto. Those are the only ones."

"The only ones? You've named 25 people. You're as much of a disgrace to the enemy as you are to the Social Republic."

Alberto and Enrico shared a knowing glance. Alberto had just denounced the best of the Social Republicans' middle ranks. Rising stars, comrades with connections in high places, and men involved in imminent operations. A spark of hope spread across Alberto's bloody, beaten face.

Enrico broke eye contact and turned to Spartaco, who nodded. Within barely a second, Enrico had pulled out his gun and shot Alberto between the eyes.

"Good," said Spartaco. "Enrico, Marco, please investigate the individuals named by the informant. 24 hours. We have important business ahead and we need to clean out our ranks."

DECRYPTED MESSAGE FROM AGENT NV-SR-126 TO AIC
11.47pm, 22nd MARCH 2020

119 NEUTRALISED. NO OTHER OPTION.

ORDERED TO NEUTRALISE 25 OPERATIVES NAMED BY 119 W/IN 24 HRS. LIST ATTACHED. INCLUDES 138, 177, 221 PLUS MORE? PLEASE ADVISE. PLEASE ALSO ADVISE COURSE OF ACTION. 

SPARTACO TALKS OF "IMPORTANT BUSINESS" IN DAYS TO COME. WILL AIM TO FIND OUT MORE.

126 OVER.

Angleter · 24 Mar 2020, 02:39

DEPUTIES' CANTEEN
NATIONAL ASSEMBLY, NEO-VENETIA CITY
1.11pm, MARCH 23rd, 2020

Interior Minister John Dalza picked up his tray and looked around briefly, before making a beeline to a table where some of his Communist colleagues were eating. He broke his step momentarily as he scanned the five Communist lawmakers at the table, before proceeding.

"Alright?"

"I've had worse days, John," piped up the woman sitting opposite him.

"Europe, Sophia? Icholasen? I know, it's wonderful news, isn't it?"

"So good. It's like... it's like I'm finally getting a sense that our time is coming."

"Yes, well, our caucus meeting will hopefully address our direction tonight."

"Caucus meeting?"

"Yes. 7pm, Party HQ."

"First I've heard of it."

"Well, it's not the whole caucus, per se. It's invite only. You guys, frontbenchers, good solid comrades only. We're leaking far too much to the MPF."

"Leaking too much to CUNVA, for that matter. After the last meeting, Anton fucking Nesbit struck up a conversation with me about our budget priorities."

"Yeesh, Anton fucking Nesbit." John shuddered. "First up against the wall."

Sophia chuckled. "If he loves Angleter so much, why doesn't he just move there? We can deport him come the revolution."

John's face stiffened. "Hmm, well, yes. But we can't talk about these things right now," he said as he wolfed down what was left of his soup. "The MPF will have us all banged up. They're on red alert right now, if you get my drift. But yeah. 7pm. See you there."

COMMITTEE ROOM 4
COMMUNIST PARTY HEADQUARTERS, NEO-VENETIA CITY
7.04pm, MARCH 23rd, 2020

After the assembled representatives had completed singing the Internationale in Italian, John Dalza stood to speak.

"Comrades! As you'll be aware, the moment of our movement has come. We have waited over 100 years for another spark of international revolution, and it is incumbent on us to seize the opportunity. We cannot let this moment pass. We cannot let ourselves be clapped in chains like Comrade Turgenev and the workers of Reitzmag. We cannot let ourselves be bombed into submission like our comrades in East Moreland."

"As we know, elections are not due for another 12 months. Our movement, from a ballot box perspective, has been frozen in aspic since 2009. The alliance between the MPF and the forces of capital, of cultural hegemony, of press, has suffocated democracy and left it little more than a veneer. We all know the results of the elections since the end of the occupation."

John aimed his clicker at the whiteboard and clicked repeatedly.

"Hang on."

He tried again, before walking over to the laptop and changing the slide on the PowerPoint manually.

"There."

"So we cannot wait to 2021 to act. As we all know, the Parliamentary arithmetic shows that the MPF could drop us and throw their lot in with the so-called Democratic Party of Neo-Venetia at any time. They're on red alert, if you get my drift, after the revolution in Icholasen. We can't assume the coalition will last until the next election."

"It's time, if you'll allow me to use a capitalist metaph—

"No," cried out a lone voice from the assembled ranks of lawmakers. A couple of fellow deputies chuckled faintly. John shut his eyes in bemusement before continuing.

"It's time we cash our chips in. The coalition agreement hasn't changed much since 2009. We control the Interior Ministry, the Justice Ministry, and the Defence Ministry. We have significant support in the ranks of the soldiers and the police. Our detectives and prosecutors have been investigating the corruption of the MPF for years. Comrades, the time for revolution has come. I'll hand over to our general secretary to explain more. Tony?"

Tony Moscati, General Secretary of the Communist Party of Neo-Venetia and Minister for Defence, switched places with John.

"Thanks, John. Yes, comrades, it's time."

"Myself, John, and the rest of the frontbench team have decided to activate what has, until now, always been our Plan C. As we all know, after 2009 our hopes had rested with the Soviet Union. That was Plan A. Since the Soviet Union collapsed, our Plan B has been to use the electoral system to achieve power; while maintaining and building the necessary infrastructure in our institutions to either consolidate our power after electoral success, or if necessary gain power without it. That second option is our Plan C, and that's what we're pursuing now. Events in Icholasen, as John said, have brought things to a head. The MPF are, let's say, unsuspecting of anything specific, but generally suspicious."

"Now, the good news is that we've been able to neutralise, through our departments, any counter-revolutionary forces in military intelligence. We can expect the support of about half the army, especially among the rank-and-file, and most of the navy. Now, obviously, when the USSR left Neo-Venetia, they left quite a significant arms cache, much of which just happened to end up in the hands of our Red Brigades. As we know, the Red Brigades have had to train more or less in secret for the last decade, and what they have in numbers and arms they lack in organisation; but it's our belief that between them and the friendly elements in the military, we'll be able to secure military control of the country within about 24 hours."

"The other issue is getting legitimate civilian control of the state. Our trade unions will be going on strike tomorrow morning in solidarity with Icholasen, and their demand will be the recognition of the workers' government there, and sanctions on the former Whiteford regime. You've all known that for several days. What's more, the MPF know that."

"The police will be the vanguard of the revolution. They, and John, will be ordered to end the strikes. John intends to refuse and, as a pre-emptive move in case he's removed from office, a number of MPF cabinet colleagues will be subject to arrest warrants. Friendly police units will take control of a number of government department offices, including, of course, the Treasury, the Central Bank, and the offices of Radio NV and NVTV."

"On Wednesday, the full plan swings into action. Your job will be to be in the National Assembly. We need to be quorate, we need to have the numbers. The other side's numbers will be reduced and we'll ensure that Dominic is the only valid Presiding Officer."

"That's all you need to know for now. And more. Questions?"

The deputies sat in stunned silence for a few seconds, before breaking out into raucous applause.

"There's 66 of us in the National Assembly—" started one deputy.

"We'll explain on the day how we get the num—" replied John.

"No no no no, what I want to know is why there's only 54 of us here."

"Good question, Alexandra. It is vital that this plan does not leave the room. We're on an extraordinarily tight schedule as it is, and any careless talk will cost the revolution. That includes your staff, it includes your local branches, it includes those colleagues who aren't in the room tonight. We intend to be able to win in the assembly on Wednesday with 54 deputies if necessary."

Alexandra nodded. The deputies still looked mostly shellshocked.

"Right, well, I think any questions are best offered over Signal. Please obviously do not use any unencrypted means of communication to talk about this; the intelligence department is being kept in check as best as possible, but it is fundamentally a counter-revolutionary organisation. As we know, Angleter has agents all over this country, other countries do too, and they all feed into CUNVA and the MPF. The workers have many enemies, so let's keep this between ourselves as best we can."

"Now, let's all stand for the anthem of our party."

JOHN DALZA'S HOME
NEO-VENETIA CITY
10.33pm, MARCH 23rd, 2020

"Whaaaat? You're joking, Tone. You're joking, right?" exclaimed John down the phone, an animated voice squawking down the other end.

"The PM literally said that to you? That we're gone in the morning?" More squawking.

"How do they know? I thought we'd weeded them all out? I know telling 54 deputies the evening before was a risk but we had no other option. Listen, listen, listen, it's simple. We start early tomorrow, and we do in one day what we wanted to do in two. I'll talk to some people who can grease the wheels." The squawking down the other end was reduced to an audible 'WHO?'

"Leave it with me." No, leave i— it's better you don't know, OK? Get the unions on the phone tonight. Get the talk of the strike going and I'll get the gendarmes into their barracks early. MPF can't complain about that. We'll talk again at 5am. Night, buddy."

Angleter · 25 Mar 2020, 00:16

AIC CENTRAL OFFICE
NEW BIRMINGHAM, ANGLETER
2.22am, MARCH 24th, 2020

"Boss?" Christina called out across the office floor to Director Hassan. "Confirmation, I think."

"From the SRs? They're in on this?"

"From 109, boss. See here."

CPNV AND FRIENDLY ELEMENTS IN ARMED FORCES / TRADE UNIONS INTEND TO LAUNCH COUP MARCH 24TH APPROX 5AM

NV GOV AWARE OF PLOT; CPNV FORCED TO MOVE PLANS FORWARD AND INCLUDE SOCIAL REPUBLICANS

SR LEADERSHIP MADE AWARE 11PM TONIGHT BY CPNV INTERIOR MINISTER DALZA

WILDCAT STRIKES OSTENSIBLY PRO-ICHOLASEN COMMUNISTS; ARRESTS OF MPF MINISTERS AND SEIZURE OF GOV OFFICE BUILDINGS; MILITARY MUTINY DUE TOMORROW MORNING

SR CONSIDERING PROVIDING ARMED SUPPORT TO CPNV MILITIA. DECISION BY 4AM

AWAITING DIRECTION. 109 OVER

"Right. Thanks Christina. I know the PM's already up; I'll patch this through to him, Foreign Affairs, Defence, everyone. Get everyone in. Night shift, day shift, everyone on the NV desk. Tell 109 to hold for now."

Director Hassan jogged back to his office and tapped away at his desk phone. Ten minutes later, he re-emerged.

"Christina? It's on. Tell 109 to do what he can to get the SRs involved. Same for anyone else who reports."

Angleter · 25 Mar 2020, 01:14

ST MARK'S STREET
NEO-VENETIA CITY
5.11am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

A large squadron of gendarmes stationed itself at either end of the road that included all major Government buildings. Small groups of police fanned out from both ends towards various Government buildings, including the Foreign Affairs Ministry, the Culture Ministry, and the Treasury. The first group was stopped at the Treasury entrance by a guard.

"Step aside, please. We have a warrant to search the premises, and a warrant for the arrest of Minister Albert Assente, Special Adviser Paula Zen, and Permanent Secretary John Fiume."

"You have what? By what authority?"

"The Minister of Justice, and the Minister of the Interior. Now please, move aside."

"Allow me to phone the mi—"

One policemen aimed his gun at the guard. "Please. Move. Aside."

The guard complied and the policemen rushed in, occupying the building. By 5.30am, the Treasury, Foreign Ministry, Culture Ministry, Local Government Affairs Ministry, Business and Economy Ministry, and Transport Ministry buildings had all been occupied by Communist-friendly gendarmes. Police were en route to each of those departments' ministers' homes to arrest them. The Defence, Interior, Justice, Health, Labour, and Education departments' Communist ministers had all arrived at work.

NVMA ST THEODORE IRON ORE MINE
NORTH-EAST NEO-VENETIA
6.04am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

"SOLIDARITY WITH ICHOLASEN!" bellowed a voice from a loudhailer on the newly-formed picket line as the striking miners banged on pots and pans.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need the police over here," said a manager over the phone, some distance away. "It's a wi- another wildcat strike. Just started about five minutes ago. They're all out, but that's mostly because they beat up one bloke who refused to walk out."

INTERIOR MINISTRY
NEO-VENETIA CITY
6.12am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

"Yeah, so we've got all the key government ministries in the hands of our police. St Mark's Street is all locked down. The workers are out, our gendarmes are on the way to help enforce the picket line and, er, put the workplaces under new management, if you get my drift," recounted John Dalza over speakerphone.

"Got it. Any response yet?" replied Tony Moscati.

"Well, you got the email from the PM calling a cabinet meeting at 9am. That's it so far. I don't think they expected this to happen before the start of the working day."

"OK. And we're on course to declare the revolution at?"

"8am. The military joins us at 8am. Then we bring out the Red Brigades, and focus all our efforts on the PM's office and the National Assembly."

"Ri- did... John, did you hear that?

A huge explosion came from nearby, causing the floor of John's office to shake and a couple of windows to break.

"Er..."

"John, look out of your window. Towards the MPF HQ."

"Did it come from tha- OH MY GOD."

John saw a plume of smoke where the MPF HQ used to be. Tony could see it too.

"John? You see that, John?"

"I, er..."

"WHAT DID YOU DO? WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO, JOHN?"

"It must be-"

"Your Social Republican friends, John? OF COURSE IT'S FUCKING THEM! WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE?"

"My-"

"Don't lose fucking focus. You've almost shat the whole bed here. Right. Get ringing round. Everything moves forward. AGAIN. We go at 6.30am before they can get the whole fucking army out against us. FUCK."

Angleter · 26 Mar 2020, 00:13

NVTV BROADCASTING HOUSE
NEO-VENETIA CITY
6.29am, MONDAY 24TH MARCH

"No, look, I really must insist—"

"We have orders from the Ministry of Culture. Look. Here's the headed paper. You see?"

"Yes, but the minister?"

"Has been arrested for corruption. Now please, have your girl read this statement out—"

"I really must protest, she's not a gi—"

"Fine. We'll do it ourselves."

Two men in army camouflage with red berets wheel the breakfast news host off stage, still sat in her chair. Another man, in a knock-off black uniform with a red beret, took another chair and started to speak to the nation.

"Comrades of Neo-Venetia, the time for revolution has come!"

"Today, I am saddened to report that the Interior Ministry has discovered evidence of massive corruption on behalf of ministers of the so-called Movement for a Popular Front. The ministers for the Treasury, Foreign Affairs, Culture, Local Government, Business and Economy, and Transport, plus several other MPF junior ministers and lawmakers, are wanted for embezzlement. These traitors, who have grown fat off the blood of the Neo-Venetian worker, will face the full force of the people's justice."

"Workers and soldiers across our country have risen up this morning against the corrupt capitalist order that dominates our country. As the vanguard party of the working class, the Communist Party of Neo-Venetia has called the people to revolution. Following the beacon of our comrades in Icholasen, and our fallen comrades in Reitzmag, we have declared the People's Republic of Neo-Venetia, and over the course of the day, with the help of the whole working class of this republic, we will complete the process of ridding our nation of corruption, capitalism, landlordism, and the malign influence of foreign regimes."

"For your own safety, please remain indoors during this process. We cannot guarantee that counter-revolutionary elements in our society, in alliance with Angleteric agents, will attempt retribution against the Neo-Venetian people. Please remain tuned to NVTV for further updates on the progress of the liberation of our people."

"...."

Off-screen, the cry "PLAY THE TAPE. PLAY THE FUCKING TAPE!" could be heard.

The Internationale played, alongside scenes of past CPNV conferences, scenery of Neo-Venetia, and Red Brigades drills.

TREASURY MINISTER NICHOLAS GIALLO'S HOME
SAINT POLO, NEO-VENETIA CITY
6.33am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

Minister Giallo and his wife were desperately packing clothes, toiletries, and other items into their suitcases when the gendarmes, armed with submachine guns, burst into their bedroom.

"ON THE FLOOR! NOW! ON THE FUCKING FLOOR!"

The minister froze. Mrs Giallo gradually lifted her hands up above her head.

"ON THE FUCKING FLOOR! ARE YOU DEAF? NICHOLAS GIALLO, YOU'RE UNDER ARREST. ON THE FLOOR! NOW!"

The minister's eyes darted from side to side. His muscles flinched as he started to dart to the right, towards the window; but before he could even take a step, a hail of bullets had felled him. Thankfully for the gendarmes, every other wanted deputy and minister had accepted arrest.

SERENISSIMA BARRACKS
VERONE, NEO-VENETIA
6.34am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

The last of 25 soldiers slipped out of his dorm and met his comrades in the mess hall. Each man was given a rifle.

"Shoot the officers. Rally the men."

12 men filed into the officers' dorm quietly. Another 12 filed into the rank-and-file soldiers' dorms. Within seconds a ruckus had emerged from both. Then, gunshots.

"Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit."

The ringleader started running, pursued by the other plotters, pursued by angry officers and men. Everything had gone horribly wrong. Within 60 seconds, every one of the 25 Communist soldiers had been killed or injured by the loyal troops' bullets. In a fit of anger, a small group of the officers dragged the eight surviving putschists together in the barracks yard.

With one officer livestreaming, the putschists' throats were slashed. Their bodies were heaped together with those of the other dead Communists, and set alight. One officer, still holding an empty petrol canister and a knife in one hand, grabbed a Neo-Venetian flag and started waving it in front of the camera, with the bodies burning behind him.

"This, always, to Communist scum! Those who want to avenge these traitors, come and get us! The Serenissima barracks is loyal, always, to the Neo-Venetian people, free and independent! Death to traitors!"

Angleter · 26 Mar 2020, 00:29

INTERIOR MINISTRY
NEO-VENETIA CITY
7.01am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

"OK, Tony, can you explain to everyone what's happened so far?" John Dalza finished his introduction to the Communist conference call.

"Certainly. So, we've had mixed results from the army. There are, as we know, 25 barracks across the country. Unfortunately, we've only had positive news from 9. There are red flags flying over 9 barracks, our movement has been held back in 11, and we've heard nothing from the other 5 thus far."

"Did you see, Tony? John? Everyone? What they did to our boys in Verone?" One voice weighed in.

"Look," John Dalza intervened. "As I think we all know by now, I've recruited the SRs to our cause."

Audible groans dominated the phone lines.

"BUT!" said John, "But they are useful for things like dealing with the criminals in the Serenissima barracks. Sometimes there's a moment for disorganised rabbles."

"Anyway, Georgia, as you know, Local Government has had some difficulty convincing the mayors and municipalities to join the revolution. In the nine military districts we now control, we're sending out small platoons of soldiers and gendarmes to either win them over or replace them. We're going to wait for the dust to settle over the next few hours before we deal with the other 16 districts."

Tony Moscati chimed in. "John's right. The reality is we cannot expect any control over the 16 military districts we've failed to take in the last half hour. Our gendarmes are strong, the Red Brigades are strong, and the Social Republicans are also here, but that's a second order concern right now. Our main focus at the moment is the capital. John, can you fill us in on that?"

"Well, we have pretty much every government department either under our control or operating under our shadow. Most of the MPF leadership has been arrested, save Nick Giallo, who's, er, no longer with us. The MPF, er, no longer have a HQ, either, courtesy of our Social Republican friends. The aim now is to besiege the National Assembly and the PM's office. The next phase starts at 9am."

Angleter · 1 Apr 2020, 00:27

NATIONAL ASSEMBLY
NEO-VENETIA CITY
9.30am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

“I don’t recognise this pass, do you, Comrade?”

“No, looks fake to me.”

Anton Nesbit, the leader of the Coalition for the Unification of Neo-Venetia and Angleter, was nonplussed.
“I don’t… but… I’m Anton fucking Nesbit! Everyone knows who I am!”

“Careful, sir. Don’t speak to us like that.”

“I mean, are you even real guards; I’ve never seen either of you before. Are you part of the coup? What the Hell is going on?” Nesbit attempted to barge past the guards and swipe his pass on the machine, prompting one of the guards to manhandle him away from the gate.

“Mr Anton Nesbit, if that is your real name, I’m afraid I’m going to have to arrest you for forgery, for impersonating a deputy of the National Assembly, and for assault.” The guard punched Nesbit in the back of the head, knocking him out instantly, handcuffed him, and carried him over to a prison van. He opened the back of the van and threw Nesbit in, where he joined several other MPs.

The guard who had knocked Nesbit out was beckoned over by another guard, who whispered in his ear.
“Look, if anyone doesn’t want to end up like that impostor, I’d strongly advise you all to disperse and return to your homes.”

One deputy protested. “But the day’s proceedings are starting ri—”

The guard pointed a rifle at the deputy, who stopped talking instantly, his face going white as a sheet. The deputies all turned away from the gate, save the one who’d spoken up, who remained frozen in place for a further 10 seconds before shaking his head and turning away.

Inside, the chamber of the National Assembly was virtually empty, except for on the Communist benches, where most deputies had arrived early and found no trouble getting through the gates. A small number of MPF, CUNVA, and DPNV deputies were also sat in the chamber.

The Deputy Presiding Officer of the National Assembly, Dominic Dalfarra, assumed the Presiding Officer’s chair in the absence of the actual Presiding Officer, who was in the back of the prison van with Anton Nesbit.
Dalfarra was flanked by two red beret wearing soldiers, an unusual sight in the chamber.

“I call to order this day’s sitting. I have received a submission for an urgent debate on Corruption from Henry Visentin. I have decided to grant this motion. Mr Visentin, you have the floor.”

“HANG ON ONE MINUTE—” interrupted one of the DPNV deputies.

“Deputy, you will not talk to the chair like that!”

“I would like to raise a point of order.”

“Go on.”

“There is obviously no quor—”

One of the guards fired gunshots into the air, causing chaos among the MPF and opposition deputies.

“Does anybody else have a point of order?” asked Dalfarra. “No? Mr Visentin, please continue.”

Visentin walked up to the Presiding Officer’s chair and handed Dalfarra a document. He explained that he was introducing an omnibus bill that included a vote of no-confidence in the Prime Minister and all non-Communist ministers, installing Tony Moscati as Prime Minister, suspending the constitution, and enabling the full, unconditional, and indefinite use of emergency powers by the new Prime Minister.

“I must protest, this i—”

A guard fired into the air.

“THIS IS PROFOUNDLY UNCONSTITUTIONAL.” An MPF deputy persisted over the warning shots until the Deputy Presiding Officer motioned for them to stop. “Thank you, Mr Deputy Presiding Officer. This is profoundly unconstitutional – emergency debates have never been used to introduce legislation, and we are clearly not quor—”

The guards started firing into the air again. The ceiling of the chamber started to crack and crumble slightly.

“By my interpretation of the regulations, what Mr Visentin is doing is perfectly legitimate. I do not need advice on what has and has not been done in the past. Now, I will allow this debate to run until 10am, at which point we will vote. I will assign this Bill to the, er, er, er, Culture Committee, and should it pass both this reading and committee stage, we will reconvene for a final vote at 10.30am.”

“The Culture Committee? Why?” asked one CUNVA deputy.

A DPNV deputy shouted over at him: “There’s no non-Communist members of that committee here.”

The debate and votes proceeded exactly as the Communists had intended. The Bill passed its first reading 41-26, passed committee stage unanimously, and was then nodded through on a voice vote at its final reading, due to a boycott by the non-Communist deputies.

ST MARK’S STREET
NEO-VENETIA CITY
10.36am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

Communist deputies, swiftly escaping the crumbling National Assembly chamber, entered their new ministries, escorted by gendarmes and soldiers.

The main body of the Communist-friendly forces, however, advanced on the Prime Minister’s Office, ready to install Tony Moscati as the new head of government.

As soon as they could reach the gates, however, a helicopter took off, with the ostensibly outgoing Prime Minister, his family, and his chief advisors on board.

The gendarmes, soldiers, and Red Brigades stormed the office and residence, but found only junior advisors. Moscati occupied the office nonetheless, and dialled the Interior Ministry.

“Tony! Yes!” cried out John Dalza.

“Let’s call it a qualified ‘yes’ for now,” replied Moscati. “The old PM’s gone off in a helicopter. Looks like he’s headed up the coast, to the northwest.”

“Damn it. They control most of the bases up there.”

“What have we got from the provinces, John?”

“It’s still just the nine bases of 25, Tony. No news from the unclear ones yet either. The strikers have cleared a few of the mining towns in the mountains and obviously in the capital we control the inner city on the east bank of the river now; but, well, I’m concerned, Tony.”

“We could end up being holed up in here if we don’t press our advantage.”

“Right.”

“That helicopter can’t land, can it?”

“We can’t really afford to let it stay in the air that long at all. What if he puts out a message and rallies the right?”

“Hmmm. Can we indict him? Say he’s a fugitive?”

“We haven’t got anything on him. Unless you can use the advisors against him? Get an allegation from one of them?”

“No time. John…”

“Tony?”

“Why not ask your guys if they can do anything about it?”

“The Interior? I told you, we can’t get anyth—”

“I mean your other guys.”

“Oh, right. I’ll talk to them. You mean my, er, er, special friends from earlier, right?”

“Right.”

“And we’re clear that the helicopter must not land, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Red: territory and bases controlled by pro-Communist forces as of 10.30am, March 24th
Yellow: bases controlled by loyalist forces
Grey: bases where the situation is unclear

Angleter · 7 Apr 2020, 14:00

WAR ROOM B
PRIME MINISTER'S OFFICE, NEW BIRMINGHAM
10.47am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

"Thanks for the briefing, Director Hassan," said Emryc Isla. "So the long and short of it is the Social Republicans are being asked to assassinate the so-called Prime Minister of Neo-Venetia as part of a Communist coup. I'm going to start by getting some thoughts from the table, here. Nigel?"

Nigel Martin, Minister for Foreign Affairs, looked slightly startled before clearing his throat. "Er, well, this is obviously a big ask. Can we have our people get the SR leadership to refuse?"

"Outright refuse? No. Too out of character; it'd raise suspicions. Not that our agents are our agents, but that they're MPF," replied Director Hassan.

Martha Lane, the Interior Minister, sheepishly put her hand up. "Sorry, MPF? Malbor—"

"Movement for a Popular Front. Governing party in Neo-Venetia. Or at least they were until this morning," Nigel interjected, tersely. "But I mean we can't be complicit in this. We can't sanction the assassination of a head of government."

Sergius Bowrell, the Defence Minister, spoke up. "He's not a head of government. He's a traitor. You know I find it awfully funny that AIC lets its own agents die all the time, we let our own soldiers die in DK all the time, but we all have to sit round a cabinet table and discuss whether we should intervene to save the life of someone who's occupied part of our country for a decade!"

Emryc placed his hand on Sergius' arm to stop him talking. "Sergius. Look, I think we can all understand the sentiment, but I think at the same time we can all understand that, sadly, the real world cares a lot more about what happens to this bloke than most other people. Especially if the SRs take him out in such a spectacular manner."

Sergius shifted his arm back from under Emryc's hand. "I'm all for human life, but the reality is we can't stop this happening. Why should we waste our efforts trying to?"

"We might not be able to stop it happening; but we have to do what we can to at least avert blame," retorted Nigel Martin.

"Nigel's right. We haven't initiated this, that's true. We probably can't stop this, that's also true. But the reason we can't stop it is because the Communists want to do this. Can we throw the ball back into their court somehow? I mean it wouldn't hurt our cause if the new regime in Neo-Venetia was responsible for this."

Alice Montgraf, junior minister for national security, tentatively spoke up. "Why are the Communists trying to get the SRs to do this? It's to cover their own backs, right, and blame the SRs for the worst aspects of the coup. Why would the SRs want to go along with that anyway?"

Martha Lane chimed in. "That seems right. Can we have our agents suggest that the request to assassinate the MPF leader is part of some Communist plot to purge them later?"

Emryc nodded. "Director Hassan, do you think that could work? Would it jeopardise our agents?"

The Director nodded. Emryc gestured to the table. "Are we all OK with this? Sergius?"

The table indicated their assent, and dispersed.

MAIN BAR
THE SEAFARER TAVERN, NEO-VENETIA CITY
11.02am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

"I just don't get why you trust this Dalza creature, Spartaco," pleaded Enrico. "We've rooted out our own and now we have to trust the CPNV? I don't get it at all."

Spartaco pounded the table. "ENOUGH! Enrico, enough." He paused for a few seconds. "Does anybody feel the same way as Enrico here."

Silence.

The old, thin, ginger-haired man spoke softly. "It seems to me that they want us to do the dirty work."

"It's the revolution, Carlo," retorted Spartaco. "Of course there will be dirty work! The CPNV are not perfect but we complement each other at this stage. They do the Parliamentary coup, we enforce."

"Yes, that's right. And we know the CPNV are revisionists. We know they will seek the approval of the capitalist world. They will want to stop the Angleterics from invading, so they will want the support of all the bourgeois regimes of the world. So they will have us do their dirty work, and then they will blame us for it, call us terrorists, and kill us all so they can get recognised by Elisabeth Baschet and Paul Craticus."

Enrico interjected. "Whose revolution is it, Spartaco? Ours, or the CPNV's?"

The portly man spoke up. "Can we have some sort of compromise here? Spartaco, you are our Commander-in-Chief, and we will always obey your command; but only if it is your command and not Tony Dalza's. He isn't in our chain of command. I suggest we go to the CPNV and say we will only do this if we have some kind of coalition or merger."

"What, so we formalise the chain of command?" said Enrico, slightly taken aback.

"Or get ourselves annexed by the CPNV," added Carlo, through gritted teeth.

"No, I like this," said Spartaco. "Let's make it our revolution too, yes? We fight together. We have ministerial office together."

Enrico and Carlo exchanged glances. A few seconds of silence.

"Fine," said Carlo. "But CPNV have to be involved in this action. Someone, some people from their units. Let's get receipts. Show we are truly united. The membership will need that."

"Will you do that, Spartaco?" asked Enrico.

Spartaco nodded.

PRIME MINISTER'S OFFICE
NEO-VENETIA CITY
11.09am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

"What do you mean, merge?" asked a perplexed Tony Moscati.

"Basically, yeah," replied John Dalza over speakerphone, "they'll only do what needs to be done if it's a joint operation with some of our men, and if we commit to giving them ministerial portfolios, forming a coalition, forming a joint command structure for our forces, and so on."

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhh," responded Tony, head in his hands.

"They just think we're going to purge them straight after the revolution."

"Well, duh." The phonecall went silent for a few seconds before Tony continued. "Problem is they know that what needs to be done... needs to be done. I mean at least they're willing to engage. God, why have they got so fucking smart? Normally they love doing this mad shit."

"Maybe we can split them once this is over. Smart ones vs mad ones."

"Ha. OK. We can agree to their terms and send a token unit to be complicit on our side, if that's what has to be done. We can call them a rogue unit if needs be. Which is your least favourite unit?"

"Errr...."

"Never mind, it's going to have to be Acco at this point. Just based on where the chopper is. Get a few guys from Acco to meet up with the SR unit."

PRIME MINISTERIAL HELICOPTER
NEAR ACCO, NEO-VENETIA
11.22am, MARCH 24TH, 2020

"My fellow citizens, this is your Prime Minister speaki— DAMN IT. Look I can't be arsed with recording this, it's too turbulent. We need to get the message out now."

"Sir, it's important we stick to the scr—"

"Fuck the script. We'll do it live. In fact, I'll do it live right now."

The PM turned on Facebook Live.

"My fellow citizens, this is your Pr— KHKHKHKHKHKHK— -ster speaking. Our nation is under attack by extreme Comm— KHKHKHKH— -orces, probably backed by Angleteric imperialists. Please tak— KHKHKHKH— streets now to pr— KHKHKHKKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHKHK—"

The Facebook Live feed went black. An explosion could be heard in the background before it cut out completely.

Angleter · 7 Apr 2020, 14:24

NVTV BROADCASTING HOUSE
NEO-VENETIA CITY
3.00pm, MONDAY 24TH MARCH

A uniformed man sat behind the news desk.

"Comrades of Neo-Venetia, it is my great honour and pleasure to announce that the workers and soldiers of this country have taken control of the government and the means of production. We have unshackled ourselves from the parasitical regime whose corruption was laid bare in indictments laid by the Ministry of Justice early this morning."

"This morning, corrupt officials were removed from office, and Parliament voted to remove all other government officials from the inherently corrupt MPF, and transfer power to the workers of this country in the person of Tony Moscati, General Secretary of the Communist Party of Neo-Venetia. Comrade Moscati will immediately set about restructuring our constitution along the lines of Marxist-Leninist thought. Workers across the country launched spontaneous strikes in solidarity with the revolutions in Icholasen and Reitzmag, and later this morning joined the revolution and seized control of their workplaces with the help of the revolutionary soldiers of the country and party."

"The so-called Movement for a Popular Front has been replaced by a genuine popular front, including the Communist Party and the Social Republican Party. Comradely soldiers from the Social Republican Army took direct action against the MPF as retribution for its defrauding of the people by demolishing its headquarters this morning. Later this morning, as the former Prime Minister fled the capital in order to arrange a counter-revolutionary coup, comradely soldiers shot down his helicopter and thwarted his efforts to rally right-wing forces to commit violence against the workers and soldiers of this country."

"All military bases have now been secured, and amnesty has been offered to all soldiers from bases that initially opposed the revolution, but have since surrendered. Anyone still engaged in counter-revolutionary activity is advised that this amnesty will conclude at 4pm. After that point, any counter-revolutionary activity will be recognised as treason."

"Civilian comrades are advised to remain indoors until further notice, and to rejoice that the global workers' revolution has spread to our country. Though the battle for the emancipation of the international working class continues, we can glory in the fact that the revolution is victorious here in Neo-Venetia, and that all our efforts as a nation will go towards the good of the working class and the Communist project, both here and across Europe."

The screen faded into a red flag with a hammer and sickle as the Internationale played.