Congrats Dr Zli!

Cheers Doc! Glad all is well. Congrats on your part in this miracle!

I'm back so we can resume, things are getting back into normal ;) Expect one story to be posted soon

Welcome back! Hope everything is good still.

Soviet command is working on deployment and assets as we speak.

16.06.1985

Midnight, Moscow time

Two men were slowly walking on the hot tarmac of Аэропорт Раменское (Ramenskoye Airfield) watching the last of Il-76 heavy transport aircraft lift off the runway. Roar of mighty engines that filled the sky for several hours was slowly fading into the background noise of army trucks that were creeping past the runway toward the big airport gates that were now completely open and unmanned.
Hot summer wind was blowing through the airport, now completely devoid of any military aircraft. Discarded papers were dancing in the air in slow, graceful moves, streaking to the air and then falling down to rest among the piles of discarded baggage.
Red suitcase lay open on the tarmac, its contents spilled over the ground. It held somebody's life compressed into several rich garments thrown inside in a hurry, now made completely worthless by oil and water that was all over the tarmac.
One of the men stopped walking and pointed at the spilled contents:

"Look Fedya, silk stockings!"

The other man was silent, slowly lighting one of his "Belomorkanal" cigarettes with a match that emited strong scent of sulphur. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the taste it brought to him, closing his eyes while the first wave of strong nicotin pleasure went over him.

"What do you think Fedya, was it someone's wife or secretary, ha ha ha"

Fedya smoked and looked around him, ignoring the question for a while. The other man patiently waited for a response, seemingly desparate for any answer from his companion.
With a sudden shrug, Fedya took the cigarette box from his trousers and produced another belomorkanal which he offered to his companion.

"Aaah, much obliged! I love them, acquired the taste some time ago on the Chinese border."

Fedya smiled at the man, watching him fumble with the lighter he found earlier on the tarmac. His gaze then travelled to the tiny spot of light that was tail light of the last departing Il-76 and he sighed.

"Andryushka, why are we still standing here? They are all on their way and in a couple of hours they will be underground, their fat, useless asses protected under kilometers of stone and concrete."

Andryushka giggled nervously and looked around as if some invisible policeman would step out of shadows to arrest them because of treason. Talking like that about the Политбюро was not good, but they were alone on this particular spot of tarmac and he listened politely to his friend, like he always did, for the occasions when he spoke were rare and his friends thoughts were dear to him even if they were not in line with party's point of view.
He coughed on Belomorkanal's noxious fumes.

"This is it Andryushka, this time they screwed it up really bad and soon all this we see around us will be a glowing pile of dust, a pile that winds will scatter to all four corners of the earth. But there will always be some Politbyro apparatchik to tell you how to live your life, even during the end of the world and beyond."

Fedya threw his cigarette to the ground and slowly groud it to dust with the heel of his well polished boot.

"Petya called his wife yesterday, his submarine was sent to the polar regions along with each and every one of our submarines in Severomorsk. All the ships and subs left the base and bloody fool was lucky not to be shot on sight for telling that over the telephone lines. I sent her to our relatives in the country and you and me will follow her there now,my friend"

Andryuska threw his cigarette to the ground and started patting himself trying to locate the keys of a Uaz 469 jeep that they used to travel to the airport. Locating them he smiled and two friends started walking towards the Uaz that stood nearby.

"Fedya, do you think there will be cigarettes after the bombs fall?"

Fedya smiled while he entered the jeep. It took him 2 tries to start the jeep but once running, he was an unstoppable machine. Fedya slowly pushed the gas pedal and Uaz slowly complied and started moving towards the airport gate.

"Oh, there will be cigarettes my friend, only, there wouldn't be anyone to smoke them..."

Uaz's sound slowly faded into the background of wind blowing over the abandoned runways.
The rain started to fall.

FROM: USS SPRINGFIELD (SSN 761)
TO: COMMANDER SUBMARINE FORCE ATLANTIC
INFO: COMMANDER US ATLANTIC FLEET
---------COMMANDER US SECOND FLEET

RE: MISSION ORDERS

1. SOVIET NORFLEET SHIPS ARE DEPLOYING IN MASS. CONFIRMED 67 FFG, DDG, 2 BCGN, NUMEROUS TRANSPORTS LEAVING PORT

2. COVERTLY TRAILING ONE TASK FORCE DURING TRANSITION TO ITS OPAREA.

3. WEAPONS TIGHT, SENSORS PASSIVE

4. RECOMEND IMMEDIATE ACTION, SITUATION HIGHLY SUSPICIOUS, RECOMEND LOWERING DEFCON TO COCKED PISTOL.

5. NEXT COM IN T+2

END.

17.06.1985
00:15 Belgrade time

Yugoslav People's Army (JNA) barracks in Slavonski Brod


The drill was scheduled to start at midnight. In a time honored tradition that ran in the JNA, each and every soldier knew that that evening they would get no sleep. Spreading like wildfire, the rumor spread from the private who cooks and cleans for the colonel to his friend who works as a cook in the mess hall. Of course, during that evening, the cook offered that information to several privates and one Razvodnik (corporal) who sold the information for 3 cans of meat and after several more exchanges almost everyone in the base knew everything about a thing that should remained a top secret.
When the bell rang, hundreds of privates as one started running towards racks containing their m70 ab2 rfles, putting clothes on as they ran and seemingly behaving like a crowd that knew what to do.
The Colonel loved it.
After the results were tallied and the median score for this part of exercise was agreed upon (it was 4,15 because nobody in JNA could ever get a perfect score for anything), they moved to another part of that day's drill, a planned simulation of hostilities with their friendly northern neigbor - the Hungarian People's Republic.
The Colonel was satisfied because everything was proceeding as planned.
Feeling increasingly happy with himself, he called upon a driver and ordered him to drive him to a nice restaurant in Pozega that had nice food and stayed open the whole night.
He waved to his soldiers as they passed him in trucks, singing "Uz Marsala Tita", rolled down rear window, smoked and daydreamed about the pleasure house he's going to make on the river.
His "Drina" cigarette never tasted so good.

The column of military trucks carrying sodiers met first Hungarian t-62 tanks 30 minutes after they left the barracks. As the lead truck's soldiers were dismounting, bright flare illuminated the sky, showering the whole area in surreal white light that cast strange shadows. JNA soldiers stood transfixed on the light show that was happening above them.
Hungarian tank line stopped.
Another flare appeared on the night sky.
Soldiers started cheering.
Lead T-62 opened fire followed by the rest of the tank line.

Cheering tuned to screams.

17.06.1985
Midnight
2nd Armored Cavalry Regiment Border patrol, near Amberg, West Germany

Cpl. William Owens was feeling more and more helpless with each passing minute.
Two German landowners standing before him were arguing in German and his translator was having hard time to get the whole string of words in english properly.

"Ok, we will now try to get this right, the easy way"
Owens was pronouncing each word slowly, smiling helpfully to both elderly gentlemen. Smile to them, win their hearts and minds said every manual about communication with natives army printed and Owens was so tired this evening that he wanted to just turn around and enter the jeep that will take him back into barracks. But then again, it wouldn't be a proper way to win their hearts and minds.
Owens sighed.
"Please tell me once again what happened"
This time only one of the enraged gentlemen was talking so it made translator's job a lot easier. After the old man finished talking and translator threw it all back at him, Owens felt even more confused.
"So, bacically they are saying US army is eating their livestock?"
The translator was smiling smugly when she replied: "Maybe it's some other green force doing it, like a force from outer space!"
She winked at him and Owens felt really tired. Just what he needed, two crazy old coots talking about aliens from outer space and a moderately pretty local girl working as a translator wanting to talk about intricacies of english in a more private atmosphere.
He decided to drive around in his jeep and see what this is all about. Tomorrow he'll write a report stating that he again lost several hours chasing wild stories and imaginary friends of some crazy people and file it to some drawer, never to be seen again.
Nobody even read those reports anymore.

The road through the forest was dark. Headlights illuminated the forest and from time to time Owens thought he saw glimpses of some strange creatures or monsters but it always turned out to be just a simple tree that was growing at a strange angle.
Nevertheless he always felt shiver creeping up his spine whenever his lights illuminated something odd.
Like that trooper standing above a hunched human figure and waving to him.
Owens almost screamed aloud, but his eyes quickly adjusted and the brain recognized familiar patterns of a human figure. It also wore standard US fatigues, helmet and m-16 assault rifle.
Owens was out of the jeep and with two troopers in no time. The other trooper seemed hurt and was holding his knee and moaning softly.
"What the hell are you two morons doing in this forest in this time of day, where were you headed and what happened...here, get my hand boy, can you stand up?"
Owens was kneeling beside the wounded soldier and trying to determine what happened to him when he noticed something strange. Both of them wore non standard issue boots that looked worn and well oiled but weren't issued to any outfit in this part of West Germany.

Owl was hooting in the distance.

The shivers that were travelling through his spine met with cold, hard steel barrel that was pressed on his neck. Owens slowly turned and his gaze met with cold blue eyes of a strong blond man in Speznaz uniform.

"Good evening, sir, would you be so kind to point us in the right direction?"

UPDATE: USSR team is almost there, they will soon start with the introductory mission

UPDATE2: USSR team is done, they are starting with their tutorial mission when I get back from work ;)

Hurry up NATO! :P

I'll need to entertain some relative this evening so NATO has until 22-23 to decide on assets, commander now has mission orders and will be able to choose what layout is the best.
USSR is ready, waiting for the first turn which I'll post tonight.
CU all

It's been a looooong week. Mountains of paperwork and miles of maps. Ahhh the inglorious nature of operational preparation. It's not been all bad. The KGB Officer assigned to our task force blessed us with a troop review of the Motherlands finest female recruits. This is what we fight for! The mothers of our Motherland! This was welcome distraction indeed!

But I long to leave these musty offices to board my ship once again for the open water. Breath the fresh salt air. Ride the bow and heave the swell. Feel the wind upon my face. Look upon the uninterrupted horizon. It is just a matter of time now. Our communication lines are open. We are ready! I am ready!! Time to leave these shores to once again meet our fate upon the open water.

Doctor E. Carnby read the orders again. His mouth felt dry and his heart was beating in his chest. This was insane. He wasn't even supposed to be here. He was supposed to keep his feet solidly on Terra Firma, patching people up, not ordering them to kill each other. He slumped over in his chair, pushing his glasses up and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He tried to think of something witty and clever to say, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a simple “Balls.” Even worse, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He didn't know the lingo or anything.
He stood and walked over to the navigator. “Hey, Parker.”
The young man looked at him and saluted. “Sir.”
Doc had been trying to get them to stop doing that for nearly a week now, but it hadn't been sinking in. Now, it seemed pointless to try and stop them. He had to make the best of it. “Parker, do you think you can get us here?” he asked, pointing at a spot on the map.
Parker nodded. “Sure thing, Cap.”
“Good.”
He walked back to his seat and sat down. This was going to suck massive donkey balls.

I wasn't saying anything about the pace of the game. And we've all been quite busy devising our fleets. I'm in no special hurry for it. Was just speaking from a Quartermaster perspective after finally having gotten all the preparatory work done. It was just directly before making my post, that I felt my teams administrative needs had finally been fulfilled. Both in, and out, of character I breathed a sigh of relief. You know of what I speak ;~) After the game, the USSR team will make the private channels public. Then all can know what we do.

+1 :D
I'll keep in mind how you imagine your chars and incorporate that into stories when they star your characters ;)