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Post by Big Boss, Lord of Light on Nov 18, 2008 7:43:19 GMT -5
Many of these huge houses are the property of big time drug runners and the like. They offer protection to any uninfected people who manage to make it there in exchange for manual labor around the grounds. They are usually walled and enclosed like a fortress with many armed guards wandering about, but outside zombies pile against the gates, smelling the fresh meat inside.
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Post by Shogun Liquid© on Dec 14, 2008 11:27:56 GMT -5
(OCC: Hey BB, sorry about that man, starting the RP now)
Somewhere in Brazil
The Hacienda, nicknamed "Dela Mar" by its current owner, was located securely on the top of a mountain side, overlooking a vast forest and in the distance, Rio Janerio itself.
Built in the late 1876 by a wealthy Portugese Merchant who wished to escape the city life of Rio Janerio, the Hacienda was beautifully built with beige summer walls, flamboyant but simple architecture that echoed Portugal's culture, balconies for each room located on the upper floors, a spacious grounds decorated with colorful flowers and an old clay wall that enclosed both the Hacienda and the ranch in a protective box, ensuring privacy already in a remote mountain side.
The original owners; from the decendants of that wealthy Portugese merchant to the modern day politicos of Brazil who recently came to power and robber barons who made a killing in Brazil, sold the Hacienda many times due to either political, economic or financial reasons. Indeed, it had switched so many hands that was quite well known in Rio Janerio amongst the poor and local populace that it was a political and financial thermometer to gauge how their country was doing.
If the current owners sold it, it meant that the country was about to hit hard times. If the owners was bought out by a different owner, then it meant that somebody new was coming to power. If the current owners left it without any reason, then something bad was about to happen, usually a coup'detat or something worse.
In the latter's case, this warning saved a lot of people who heeded this sign when the T-Virus struck Rio within hours and subsequently spread around Brazil. The last owner was called by earlier a government offical, really a friend, and followed his advice by fleeing the country with his family in their private jet when Outbreak began killing people.
And so, for the last few months, it had no owner.
Until now.
Having stabalized his vast Drug Empire from the onslaught of the T-Virus, and securing his position within Brazil, Don Ramon Enrique looked out from the balcony of the master bedroom, his black souless eyes staring at the burning city before him thousand of miles away.
Just as the Outbreak began to spread, the Drug Lord knew that opportunity had come knocking on his door, or rather, banging on it and moaning.
With the coming of the Outbreak came the fall of the Goverment, which was rumoured to be somewhere in Salvador City miles north of Rio, attempting to maintain a Democracy that was rapidly falling apart. The fools still thought they were in command of their country, but the Don knew otherwise. When faced with a seemingly unstoppable force that can kill you, human beings are reduced to animals who will do anything to survive.
Seizing opportunity, the Don used half his wealth, along with support from various allied drug cartels in South America, to found a mass insurgent movment of a Para-Military Force, known as the Frente de Liberação Brasileira or as in English, "the Brazilian Liberation Front".
Under the false pretense of liberating Brazil from the T-Virus, the Don preyed on the vast masses of refugees, who had been left by the Military to fend for themselves, and offered them protection by coming into his fold.
The result was extremely profitable.
Within a few weeks, he had secured a portion of himself in Brazil, wiped out his enemies who did not see this opportunity (They foolishly helped the government instead of taking advantage of the situation) and controlled several districts nearby which was outside the reach of the Brazilian Military.
Not only that, but even the Military itself was seeing his way, with bribes of medicine, money, equipment, passports even and anything else it asked, he had control of several Brazilian Divisions whose officers were so grateful for his donations that they were right now guarding his territory in behalf of their donator. And so the Don had become a Warlord, controlling a small state within Brazil that followed his will and every word. If a man so as looked at him wrongly, he could brutally kill that man, that man's wife and family, and feed them to the undead mass that was roaming below the forest.
But the Don, after weeks of contemplating on what to do with his recently seized power, realized that he needed something to cement his power, something to symoblize and signal to the world and to Brazil that he was rising. This he knew, when he came to the conclusion, he had to take the Dela Mar. The legendary Hacienda on the mountain side.
It took a week to clear out the infected. Two more weeks to set in place the security needed and another two more weeks to tweak the Hacienda's walls with the Don's men building an outer wall within the surrounding complex and constructing it at 60 meters high and 30 meters thick. Wooden machine gun towers ringed the outer wall and several barracks were stationed at the entrances and exits.
The finished product was an Hacienda that was made even more impregnable.
When he moved to the Hacienda finally, he brought with him four battalions worth of the guards, a detachment of foreign mercnaries and two villages worth of refugees who would serve as his slaves and playthings when the evil man had nothing to do.
For now, he looked at the burning city miles away and felt secure in the knowledge that while people were dying and had lost everything due to the Virus, he had taken opportunity by the balls and had gained everything he needed and wanted. This he knew, would last until forever as far as he was concerned.
Unfortunately... He did not know he was wrong.
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Post by thegunny on Jan 31, 2009 22:35:45 GMT -5
A UH-60 Blackhawk registered to the P.M.C company Kosseck skims at a luisurely 300 feet above the coastal waters of Brazil, zipping straight at full speed past the beach and inland a mile before landing on the top of a cartel coastal villa compound. As soon as the helicopter landed, the side doors opened and the 13 man Jormugand special forces team piled out, locked and loaded, and fully equipped with high-tech field infantry equipment. The cartel enforcers around the roof-top make-shift helipad quietly watched as the men piled out, knowing full well who they were; the Jormugand team was practically a co-owner of the Villa. Mihailov stepped out after everyone had already piled out and set up a perimeter around the chopper. The chopper slowly quieted its engines and made their way down from the rooftop through the compound to the gates, carrying all their bags, rucksacks, duffel bags, and suitcases with them before loading up into the civilian vehicles set up at the front gate of the villa for them. The mercenary pilot crew piled out and took a break, the UH-60 being theirs and not the Jormugand teams making it practically untrackable... or at least impossible to connect with the Jormugand team or the T.F.P. Mihailov practically croaked out his words
Joseph, you drive.
Mihailov slammed the passenger side door closed, Joseph getting in the driver's seat of the chevrolet chevette.
You know the directions... just get us to the village near the tropical forest that the cartel enforcers cleared out for us. They already set up the field base for us.
(Garret Mihailov and Scott Joseph are now in the villages section)
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Viral
Zombie Hunter
Ad Astra Per Aspera
Posts: 202
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Post by Viral on Mar 3, 2009 1:32:25 GMT -5
Keris stalked along the walls of the mansion he was to guard. A gunshot or two could be heard far off in the distant jungle. Keris thought it ironic, I used to have people for stuff like this, I now have to earn my pay as a lowly guard. Being a small time drug extorter himself, he knew how the hierarchy worked. He sighed and sighted down the cheap assault rifle they issued him. He glanced longingly at his holstered handguns and continued to patrol, eventually making his way to the roof.
"Yo, sniper man! Got any live ones yet?" He nudged the sleeping guard. He shot right up, revealing his blooshot eyes and his edgy nature. Keris shook his head and stalked off. Better to be a slave to your inhuman hunger than to drugs or poisons. He shook it off and patrolled the walls eager for something to happen.
Keris slumped over the low wall along the wooden parapets. He nudged his assault rifle as it hung midair from it's shoulder strap. He watched it move back and forth and was captured by it. He repeated the process numerous times until some jerk, with something in his rear end, chucked a rock at him to make him move and watch for danger. He longed for the thrill of fighting instead of wasting slowly away among the rude drug dealers. He glanced a sidelong glance toward the nearest gunfire in the surrounding jungle and shuffled down the line.
Two hours later
Keris, barely on his feet, slowly made his way along the wall. He felt the wall as he moved toward the barracks. Beads of sweat ran down his face, though he hardly noticed. He came to a low built building near the huge iron-bound, solid wood gate. He gently pushed through a flimsy plywood door and looked for the nearest cot. He dumped his gear down, removed his coat, and fell face first onto the cot. He laid there feeling his heat transfer into the cool cotton made cot. Keris grabbed a pillow not being used by a nearby cot and rested his aching neck onto the stack of two pillows.
(PM if you want to start RPing with me.)
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Post by Shogun Liquid© on Aug 20, 2009 20:44:44 GMT -5
The Del Mar Hacienda
A convoy of vehicles steadily approached the Hacienda, zigzagging their way like a snake towards the man-made fortress to which the Druglord had made his lair.
When it reached the Gatehouse, the convoy cautiously, then slowly stopped. In the lead vehicle, which was a UAZ Jeep in faded jungle camo, was General Juan Alfonso of the Brazilian 14th Infantry Division. His driver seated next to him was Captain Ramone Cruz, his personal bodyguard and a member of the 14th Infantry Division as well.
Of course, there was no 14th Infantry Division anymore. In reality, it had been destroyed in the early months of the Outbreak, vainly protecting Rio Janerio in a lost battle. What it was now, and what General Alfonso and Captain Cruz is, are the cobbled up remains of every single Military Unit in Brazil that had befallen to Don Enrique's corruptive sway.
With a reluctant sigh, he opened the passenger door and stepped out unto the fresh mountain air, his dirty boots smushing the muddy ground as he walked towards the Gatehouse, really a bunker that guarded the entrance to the Hacienda.
Under the watchful, alert eyes of the Don's mercenary bodyguards, high above the Guard towers that covered the entrance, he stopped and looked at one man who had come out to greet him.
"Whaddya want?"
The mercenary asked gruffly in acccented English, his cold eyes looking at Alfonso with disdain.
"I have something for the Don, I wish to speak to him."
The General replied, hiding his disgust at the way he was being looked at as he returned the stare.
The merc smiled, showing his dirty yellow teeth to the General.
"He's busy. Come back another time General."
Alfonso frowned. He was not going to be rebuffed, especially by this foreigner.
"Listen you f*cker. I don't give a foder if he's in the toilet, f*cking his mistress, or putting something in your @ss. Tell him I have something urgent to discuss with him. And if you don't, I'll wipe that smile off your f*cking foreign face, do you understand idiota?"
The man blinked in surprised, staring at Alfonso for a few moments. Then, grudingly, he moved back towards the bunker right beside the gate.
A few minutes later, the heavily reinforced gate opened up, followed by several mercs who had emerged from the bunker to free the entrance of barricades. Satisfied, Alfonso turned and went back to his Jeep, opening the door roughly and jumping into the seat.
"Tell the men in the other vehicles to stay behind," The General said to his bodyguard as he motioned him to move forward, "These idiotas" might think I'm here to kill their boss and start a coup."
Captain Cruz nodded as he uttered quick commands in his radio. shifting the gear and stepping on the gas. "But we both know sir, that you could kill him with your deadly farts."
The General chuckled grimly. "Captain, your an @sshole. Fortunately I like you, and unfortunately for the both of us, the Don is our benefactor."
Manuvering the jeep unto the compound, amidst the lavish garden and fountains, and several gardeners, the Captain parked the jeep right before the Hacienda steps and looked back at the General.
"Sir, why are we here again?"
"To fullfill our duty Captain."
"What duty? We owe nothing to this pathetic scu-"
The General suddenly grabbed Cruz's shoulder with such urgency, he thought for a moment that the General was going to hit him.
"Don't say that." The General hissed, "Not aloud, and not in here."
There's a time and place for that discussion... but not in here. Do not naively forget that there are others within our beloved Division, eager and willingy to take our places if word slips out that we are discontent. Survival comes first Captain, forget your loyalties or guilt. Survival comes first."
Cruz nodded appologetically as the General released his grip and quietly got out of the Jeep.
It was going to be a long morning. [/b]
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