The end of Victor Franks.

[n00bl3t]

Victor Franks had just arrived on Planet Baden Baden. He was on holiday after the negotiations. It had been recommended by the quorum based on the circumstances. He had already spent two days here and most of the people he met were Liberty citizens.

He stretched in front of the mirror in the hotel. It was a hot day. He would enjoy the bar later on after taking care of some personal business. He was already dressed so he grabbed his hotel card and his bag and strode out the door.

Victor Franks was an old man enjoying the serenity of the place. He thought to himself how he had seen it all. He knew he would never die quietly.

He pushed all his business-like thoughts out of his head. He had arrived where he needed to. A red steel box with a slot just a block down from his hotel. It was here that he posted an envelope to an old friend; he would need this friend's help.

The envelope hit the 27 letters underneath it in the post box with a wisp of noise. It would be collected in one hour and twenty three minutes by Jason Brunhild a postal worker who worked on the Western Face resort of Orbital Spa & Cruise.

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Anything I say is not intended as offensive, and to try and deliberately misinterpret it as such would be an attempt at trolling via misrepresentation.

It's not a conspiracy, it's localised bias. They're not intelligent enough to form a conspiracy.