[h3]Tindouf, Tindouf Province, Algeria - June 1960[/h3][hr]Gunfire wasn't an uncommon sound in the South. It also wasn't uncommon to see a fair few pieces of shrapnel or stray bullets flying near the town. The nearby townspeople merely shrugged, keeping their head down while doing daily tasks. Many would call this arrogance (and perhaps it was) but the people of Tindouf placed their trust in the hardy Algerian soldiers which patrolled and protected the town. Ever since tensions between Traditionalists and government kicked off, the two have been fighting it out in the desert dunes in Tindouf Province where their main support lies. While the provincial capital had stayed loyal, many of the villages surrounding the town soon turned to the extreme rhetoric of the Traditionalists. They were swayed to their side and now fellow countrymen fought, colouring the sands with crimson. Although their opposition was growing in number, the military were steadfast in their duty and were even pushing back slightly, despite being surrounded on most sides. The only roads that weren't held by Traditionalists was the one leading to loyalist Garet Djebilet and to a nearby military outpost which is currently also under siege to the west. 

Some would wonder why Tindouf Province is so important. But despite its barren landscape and lack of water, iron ore is common to find underneath the dunes. There was an iron mine held in Garet Djebilet where fierce fighting was going on underground and above ground. There was also a great number of borders connected to the province and if it ever fell, fighting could spill into neighbouring countries which would hinder the war effort and relations. It could also show the current presidency to be a weak one, something which the President could not afford. It was why the Supreme Commander had told the brave Algerian men and women to stand their ground until help could arrive. Even now, the military was actively recruiting and mobilising troops, readying them to replace the battered forces which kept the state's enemies at bay. Every soldier became a patriot as most of the senior NCOs and COs had fought in the War for Independence, instilling a sense of pride and purpose within their ranks. If the President had deemed the province of Tindouf to be defended, then by Allah's guidance they were going to hold their ground. Fortunately, that's what they've done for the past few months since the fighting intensified. They built their sandbag walls, made sniper positions on buildings on the outskirts of town, machine gun nests would be operated 24/7 and cavalry sat in wait for a counter-charge. The government made no shortcuts with their country's military and has some of the highest military spending budgets in Africa due to the constant threat of terrorism and civil war.

But ever since word had come that the Traditionalists had made new allies, the government was getting anxious. Therefore they had sneaked in the best of the best of their military into the fray who could best gain the solid intel needed and had the highest likelihood to survive a disastrous scenario. Sergeant Muhammad Lellouche was one such person. Standing at 6' 3", he was a very tall and broad shouldered man whose stern face seemed to be able to melt iron. Even through the [i]sesh[/i] turban which covered most of his head and face, his eyes could still pierce a man. He kept his hands firm on the MAS Modèle 36 in his hands, scanning the desert from atop his dune to keep watch. It was an old weapon, stolen from the French during the War of Independence. They were being phased out of the military but he had kept his hands on one, trusting this older version of carbine over the new ones. He was always a more traditional man over all, preferring familiarity over hard specifications. And no one could argue with him, he was the heart of the Algerian SpecOps. Lellouche had first served in the Modernist military since the War of Independence as a child, riding his then pony up and down the ranks to carry ammunition and supplies. A risky job that made him face death more times than he could count at the age of 15.

Now, at the age of 29, Lellouche still served the military. He had refused his promotions and preferred to be a non-commissioned officer who could be on the ground, serving the people who were under him. Although fiercely loyal, he was starting to get tired of killing his countrymen. Even from this dune on the other side of town, he could hear the overwhelming cracking of gunfire. He sighed, opening his mouth wide to crack his jaw. He checked back on his loyal steed Eva and his other patrol members, fellow Algerian Special Forces. He once more peered into the distance, using his binoculars to scan the horizon before carefully sliding down the dune towards the camp. He tapped the next soldier for a swap out. The Sahrawi man looked back at him with sharp eyes and spoke in a thick Saharan accent. 

"Any Tradies out there Sarge? Command was expecting an attack on our position while most of us are at the northern side of the city." He was gripping a Karabiner 98k Sniper Variant, one of the older but serviceable models in the Algerian military. It didn't mean that Ibrahim wasn't any less deadly for it. They had all served in this war for several months and knew how much of a crackshot the squad sniper could be.

"Horizon's clean of any traitors Private. Only us and the desert right now, let's make sure it stays that way." Ibrahim nodded and slung his Kar98 around his shoulder, starting to make his way up the slope. Lellouche sat down and looked around at the group surrounding him. They were all tired, rubbing their eyes but still sharp as day. They weren't Special Forces like him, just regular infantrymen who were transferred to him. All Special Forces were split up by command as soon as they managed to sneak through enemy lines. They were to lead squads of 12 standard infantry or conscripts from the town to serve as mentors and to "assure loyalty among the ranks". He was ordered to shoot anyone who refused his orders, switched sides or deserted. He almost ran at the portly senior officer who dared such an order but his companions held him back. Thankfully, his gun remained clean, his twelve man squad of regulars remained loyal and that bastard of an officer was so far proven wrong about infantry resolve.

The camp that they occupied was small, a tent pitched up in the middle of the camp. A machine gun nest sat idle without an operator Bedrolls and packs were neatly set against each other but they were suspiciously all packed up.

A query took the elder sergeant out of his thoughts, turning his gaze to the origin. The young piercing blue eyes of Lieutenant Harcourt Hamilton Bernard stared right back at him. Although his superior, the squad was essentially Lellouche's under command's orders and the [i]Pied-Noir[/i] officer had fallen into second in command. He was fresh, young and eager at the start of this war. The blood spilt had served to dull those once enthusiastic eyes peering through the brown [i]sesh[/i] he wore. "Sergeant" he started, speaking in fluent but accented Arabic "there have been queries from the men about-" Several grumbles were heard, the squad females making their voices known. The officer just blushed slightly and coughed, continuing with "From the men and women about when the squad was to be swapped out for a fresh squad. We have been here for most of 48 hours and that long of a service time has proven quite tiring."

"We have our orders to stick by it Lieutenant, we are to hold our positions for as long as possible." He replied briskly, noting how sluggish the rest of his squad was. He almost reprimanded them for laziness but stopped a second before. These were normal men and women, he told himself. They were not trained for holding such long shifts.

The younger officer crossed his arms and stood his ground. "We must contact command for a swap out Sergeant. This is a matter of wellbeing and safety for the soldiers who serve under us. We cannot continue to work this shift without significant decreases in combat ability."

"[i]Bloody Frenchmen and their nonsense.[/i]" Lellouche swore under his breath in Berber, low enough that no one could hear him. His lips thinned and his eyes narrowed, standing up to the younger man. "Are you defying my orders Lieutenant? Orders that are to be taken like they were high command itself? I need not remind you the price for insubordination, do I?"

Harcourt blanched slightly but seemed to stand his ground, adamant to speak about the wellbeing of his men. Say what you want about the [i]Pied-Noir[/i] but their officers were always caring about the people who served under them. Lellouche continued on, placing a finger near his trigger and gazed at every soldier's eyes. "You do not want to take your chances against me. If any of you disobey me, I am under orders to shoot any traitor. I want my bullets to spill Tradie blood, not comrades who have served under me in this bloody conflict. Do not make me your enemy." 

The tension was thick for a few seconds before Harcourt silently sat back down although a defiant gaze was in his eyes. Lellouche just kept his hands on his carbine, the threat still hanging in the air. Then, a distant cracking sound was heard but more distinct than the others. The sound of bullet piercing skin was second followed by Ibrahim's body tumbling down the sand hill behind them. Everyone sprang into, tensions shoved away to face this new threat. Southern Tindouf was under attack. "Noor! Tend to the horses and keep them calm throughout the fight! Everyone into positions!" The sergeant yelled orders before running towards the command tent. While a half-dozen soldiers dived towards the various compacted sand piles serving as cover, a third one covering the tent. Sandbags were placed between the piles with peep covers, some taking position there with Lieutenant Harcourt while two soldiers went to operate the machine gun.

The Sergeant pushed the tent flaps away and was greeted with the messenger. A Homing Pigeon was calmly perched in its cage, staring at the familiar face. He ignored the bird and took out a pen and paper, writing down a quick but urgent message.

[i]NEED ASSISTANCE, ENEMY HAS ARRIVED. NOT ENOUGH MEN TO HOLD GROUND. BACKUP REQUIRED.[/i]

Lellouche proceeded to roll the paper and stuffed it into the small tube before opening the cage. The pigeon soared out of the tent and into the desert sky, its training would do the rest. He let it leave through the tent flaps before exiting, he sprinted towards a sand pile. He went to lay next to Corporal Hakim, shouldered his carbine and peered into the distance. What sounded like a horde of horses came closer, a thunderous sound of overwhelming force. As the first horses galloped down the horizon, he contemplated whether he would be living to the end of the day. He steeled his resolve and hoped that the message would be carried through. The men and women around him hardened their gazes and looked through their sights. Despite previous tension, he couldn't have been any prouder.[hr][h3]Algerian Embassy, Duchy of German West Afrika - June 1960[/h3][hr]Ana was by no means a weak woman. She was strong willed, intelligent and had fought for her position as a foreign ambassador. Even in her privileged position due to her gender, there were many others who were thought to be qualified for this job. She had to prove she was more loyal and diplomatic than any of those other plebeians who thought they were better as well. Her previous status as a [i]Wali[/i] of Algiers may have helped her to get this position but she had still worked hard! The ambassador to the Duchy had unfortunately died of a heart attack a week earlier and she was sent to replace him. Previous relations with the Duchy had been tense due to its monarchical government and imperialist overtones but current situations made the government desperate. As the fighting in Tindouf intensified, the President was getting worried that fighting would spill into the neighbouring province of Béchar where many fund were put into water pipelines to make grazing possible in the otherwise barren [i]hamadas[/i]. Every Algerian knew the threat of famine and the harsh landscape of their homeland caused them to cultivate in lands that would have otherwise been left untouched. If fighting spilt into Béchar, there was a potential for a severe shortage in food. It was her job to secure a trade agreement with the Duchy for food.

But this was the first step in a very large plan to increase Algeria's foreign relations with other countries. Ana could recall what the President had personally said to her. [i]"For too long, the governments of Algeria have only ooked within their borders. It is time to find friends in Africa."[/i] The new ambassador had agreed wholeheartedly. The country had limited relations with the outside world and although tourists came in and out of the country all throughout the year, it had little diplomatic ties with any country aside from its neighbours in the Arab World. Many of the older generation would agree that this was enough but they were hardcore nationalists, blinded by arrogance and patriotism. Though the President and Algeria's newest ambassadors were no traitor, they were not keen on being isolationist and unimportant in the world's politics. She had absentmindedly thought about whether the old ambassador's death was more than a mere coincidence but brushed it aside. President Hamidou was a fair man, he wouldn't devolve into such barbaric tactics such as murder to get the right people in power. That was the type of act a brutal monarchist would make, not a democratic man like Hamidou. It was a simple, convenient coincidence.

A light knock on her office door took her out of her thoughts. Ana called out to them to come in and the door revealed the gaunt, rugged face of her "secretary". Corporal Ali Zaidi was not a man to be trifled with. He was there for her security and posed as her secretary. He was good at it and filled in his shoes as a mere secretary to an ambassador very well. The man had been so good at acting that she wondered if he was who he said he was. He could've been special forces for all she knew but he was loyal and looked menacing which was enough for her. "Ma'am, the cab has arrived to take you to the Royal Palace." She nodded and stood up, grabbing her suitcase full of documents and notes. She followed her posing secretary out through the door and out the embassy, pausing for a bit as the heat assaulted her body. Thankfully, she had chosen to wear a beautiful black and gold karakou dress which was loose fitting and good for the high temperatures of Africa.

Ana was led into an Audi of German-make though she wasn't sure of what specific model. The black African man driving the cab smiled and said [i]"Where can I take you today Ambassador? The Royal Palace?"[/i]

She smiled back and replied in perfect German [i]"Yes, thank you for driving us Herr Litumbe."[/i] He flashed his white teeth and drove forward. Corporal Zaidi spoke first after the silence, speaking in Berber. [i]"I do not know if I trust this man Ms. Rochelle. Monarchists are known to use their black underlings to spy or sabotage the unsuspecting."[/i]

Ana kept a pristine face but frowned on the inside. [i]"It will be fine secretary Zaidi, this man has driven us before and I do not doubt his intentions. If he is a government agent of some sort, I will not be discussing state secrets of any sort. I doubt he knows how to understand any sort of Berber, let alone our town's dialect and at the speed of which we are talking."[/i]

Zaidi nodded once and looked out of the window. Ana joined him in watching German Kamerun pass through the window. Though nothing compared to Algiers in her eyes, he could see that many of the black citizens were quite well off and the city was fairly beautiful. It also wasn't surrounded by barren landscape so she could concede that point. The closer they got to the royal palace, the richer the neighbourhoods got and quite expectantly, the whiter the citizens were. Though there were a surprising amount of darker faces walking in the crowds. As the cab neared its destination, she wondered if the negotiations were going to go as planned. Securing the trade agreement and making a powerful ally in Africa was going to be difficult. But Ana Rochelle Dupond was no weak woman.

[i]"To the lions den we go."[/i] Her companion muttered but she dismissed it. She kept a positive face and a clean, pristine smile.