Resurgence

by Peter Hoole

  Not that he didn’t love her anymore. In fact, the past few days had brought them even closer.

  He realised that recent events, and no doubt the upcoming events, would change them both forever. And in a twisted way, that would bring them even closer.

  Turning his attention to the middle of the room, Caleb gave Dunleavy a nod.

  Dunleavy walked towards William, and asked him to sit on the ground.

  William was silent, and refused to move. The refusal did not last long, as Casey walked up to the man, placed his hand on his shoulder, and forced the man to the ground.

  William ended up on his knees, looking up at the towering Sergeant and the older man.

  “Now...” Dunleavy began, “You have a choice.”

  William scoffed.

  “You really do have a choice,” Dunleavy said matter-of-factly, “We can do this where you feel no pain, or we can do this where you feel a lot of pain. The choice is clearly yours.”

  William remained silent.

  “Me and my friends are going to ask you questions. And you will answer them. Maybe not straight away, but after a few minutes, you will answer them.”

  Dunleavy spoke in a more menacing tone – softly but with intent.

  William remained defiantly silent.

  “First question...” Dunleavy began, “What’s...”

  Before he could finish, Darcy interrupted.

  The preceding conversation had alluded to a lot of information about the Colonials, but from what she could tell, they still had time to deal with them. What she wanted to know was more pressing.

  “Mike,” she said, “Ask him what’s next. What will the next attack be?”

  Dunleavy looked at her, shrugged, and looked back at William.

  “That seems a good place to start.” He said to William, “What’s the next attack?”

  William looked at the man standing over him.

  After a few seconds, he opened his mouth. Before a word came out, he spat at Dunleavy’s feet.

  Dunleavy looked down at the saliva that covered the toe of his boot.

  “Alright... looks like you’ve made your choice.”

  ***

  The plane was making excellent time.

  On a normal trip from London to Australia, it would take in excess of eighteen hours. And that was just flight time. On a commercial flight, the journey usually made a stopover in Singapore or Kuala Lumpur – two large terminals about four hours flight from Australia’s mainland.

  But Zach was not on a normal plane.

  The Colonials had spent much of their time perfecting technology that the rest of the world would not see for years to come. In fact, they held the patents on many of the technological advances the rest of the world now took for granted. While many of the greater populations medical and communication advancements came directly from the Colonials and their vast interests, they decided that their real advantage was in vehicles.

  While communication was paramount in advancing knowledge, the day to day practicalities of their operation were vastly improved by the speed in with they could move people and supplies around the world.

  It was this speed that had enabled them to ensure that most of the colonies would receive the serum within a few days.

  It also meant they could move important assets from place to place quickly.

  Along with the speed of their vehicles, the Colonials had made further improvements. Including superior stealth technology, the Colonials had also perfected cloaking technology for all of their vehicles.

  These improvements gave them a distinct advantage. They could not be seen by the rest of the world as they made their movements across the globe. This was due to the fact that the groups that may pose a threat didn’t even know how to look for them.

  Among the Colonials fleet were Kites, Hawks and Darts.

  Kites were the big planes – the ones that could carry several land vehicles, or a Garrison of soldiers. Often the colonials would move vast amounts of people and equipment from one colony or another, particularly if an outsider came too close to discovering them. Fortunately for the Colonials, this had been a rare occurrence.

  The Darts were much smaller – no bigger than a Cessna that a trainee pilot would use. Darts usually only held one or two people, and were only used for transport across shorter distances. They were fast, and could make journeys of a few thousand miles in around an hour.

  And then there were Hawks. These were the best planes in the fleet. They had speed, and could travel vast distances on a single tank of fuel.

  Hawks were essentially retrofitted jets, the kind generally owned by only the wealthiest people on the planet.

  While they were fast, they also served as mobile offices for the leaders of each colony. Should a colony be lost, the leader would have everything they needed in the Hawk in order to continue to fulfil their duties.

  It was on a Hawk that Zach was currently travelling. He had only left London around two hours earlier. Such was the speed of the Hawk; they were already over Afghanistan – approximately half way on their journey.

  Afghanistan, for much of the past few decades, had been in a war in some way, shape or form.

  Zach’s Hawk was currently flying through a no-fly zone. Not that he minded. The no-fly-zone was a construct of the outside world, and as such the Colonials paid very little heed to its observance.

  Zach adjusted himself in the seat. Though it had been a comparatively short journey so far, there were still many thoughts running through his mind.

  There was very little information coming out of the Haven colony, apart from some video footage.

  It was the footage that Zach was currently reviewing.

  He felt neither need nor desire to watch any further footage of Helen’s lab. Instead, he had been reviewing footage from the rest of the facility and the town above.

  From what he could gather, there were six people that originally infiltrated the facility – four men and two women. One of the women was the reporter. He recognised her in the footage as she had never worn any headwear. Each time she appeared on screen, Zach felt his emotions lift.

  He always believed emotions were a key facet of the mind, body and soul. Focusing ones emotions would allow a person to accomplish great tasks. In his mind, there was no greater task than the fulfilment of the plan.

  But the more he saw Darcy, the less the gap was between his desire for the plan’s success and his increasing need for revenge.

  Still, he knew his thirst for revenge would not be quenched for some time, so he used his anger to focus on the others in the footage.

  The other woman was harder to discern. In almost every image, her face was concealed. But the way she moved was that of a trained soldier – unlike that of the reporter.

  Of the four men, Zach only recognised two.

  The first image that struck him was Dunleavy.

  Dunleavy had always been a thorn in the side of the Colonials. From what Zach understood, Dunleavy was the driving force behind many of the close encounters they had had.

  The other man that Zach recognised was familiar to all of the Colony leaders too. He was an assassin, a man that no one within the organisation truly trusted. Not because he wasn’t good at what he did.

  Far from it.

  It was more that no one really knew what side he was on. From what Zach knew, James and his people had used the man – Jacob – on more than one occasion. But there were always rumours of his other work.

  It was well known that Jacob would sell his talents to the highest bidder. It was this trait that caused some consternation within the Colonial ranks. Every other operative had been brought in and was trained to work only within the ideals of the group. They were trained and moulded to be like-minded soldiers.

  But James had other task he needed attending to, and these tasks could in no way be tracked back to the Colonials.

  The biggest was the assassination of President Hawkins.

  For
that, James – through another Zone One operative, William – employed Jacob to carry out the task. It was important, but delicate.

  The President had come too close, and it was rumoured he had assumed Dunleavy’s role once Dunleavy had moved out of the White House’s inner circle.

  And then there was the brutality with which he carried out his work. It was as though Jacob really enjoyed what he did.

  While Zach often lamented that he too felt a certain joy from the work they were doing, Jacob was different. It was as though brining pain to others was the only way Jacob could feel pleasure.

  Those two aspects combined were the reason why Zach was content when he saw the vision of James shooting Jacob – it was one less problem that required attention.

  The other two men Zach did not recognise.

  From the moment they stepped off the plane in the first video, it was clear one of them was in charge. The man had the posture and confidence of a leader. With each step they took, it was he the others turned to.

  The other man struck Zach as more of a soldier, following orders in the truest sense. He was the man that was with the reporter when she killed Helen, and as such would draw the ire of Zach when the time required it.

  But as he watched the footage, Zach identified a more pressing need.

  He turned his attention to the communication program. He found Johns contact, and connected to his life-long friend.

  “Zach...” John began as soon as he answered, “How’s your journey?”

  “We’re on schedule. We should be landing in the airfield in a few hours.”

  “Good.”

  “John. Have you reviewed the footage from Haven?”

  “Yeah, most of it. Why?”

  “I think we need to change our plans?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I’m not sure... call it instinct.”

  “Go on...”

  Zach thought for a few moments. He knew John better than anyone, and they had worked together for such a long time that he knew that John would need some convincing to change the plan so late in proceedings.

  “I’ve watched it all. What I see has me worried.”

  “Why? There’re only five of them now...”

  “I know...” Zach replied, “But they did get out. And they managed to take down some of Haven’s best operatives. Even the reporter...”

  Zach paused. It seemed even talking about her was enough for him to lose focus.

  “Even the reporter was able to kill some of our people.”

  As Zach spoke, he was also keeping an eye on vision from the town.

  Just outside the garage, He saw a wide shot of the street. To the left of the screen, the reporter and Dunleavy were firing towards a few of the Colonial soldiers. As the men were shot, Zach noticed something.

  “John... Go to the garage. When Dunleavy and the woman are out the front.”

  John turned from the camera and looked off to the side, “Give me a moment.”

  As Zach waited, he reviewed the footage, zooming in on the men as they fell.

  “What am I looking at Zach?” John asked.

  “Watch our men as they go down.”

  John paid close attention to the screen.

  “Do you see it?” asked Zach.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” John replied.

  “The men... they weren’t shot by Dunleavy or the reporter. See how they fall backwards, towards the garage?”

  John still looked to the side.

  “Shit.” John exclaimed, “Are you thinking what I am?”

  “Yes. It was them.”

  “Are you sure though?” John asked.

  Zach nodded at the screen.

  “But there’s something else.” Zach said.

  John looked despondent on the screen.

  Noticing his friends change in demeanour, Zach continued, “We need to escalate the next attack.”

  “Why do you say that? Even if the five of them escaped, and it was the others that shot our men...” John asked.

  “John!” Zach said, “We are so close... If they get to anyone. If they get any word out, and people start looking for us...”

  “But Zach... we’ve just taken out the stadium. And with the Zone Five attack and the plane in Seattle...”

  “I’m sure they are distracted, John,” Zach said with angst, “But we need to keep the momentum going. We need them to be in such a panic that even if they do get the information they’ll have no time to look at it. Come on John... We can’t afford to take risks!”

  “I know...” replied John, “I know.”

  “Good... then you agree.” Zach urged.

  “I guess so.”

  “We need to contact Zone Six. We need to speak to Ana.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ten minutes of pain.

  That was what Dunleavy had just inflicted on the prisoner.

  There were no tools for Dunleavy to use, so he had made do with what he had.

  “Don’t you worry one little bit...” Dunleavy said to William, “I’m sure that wonderful serum of yours will heal those scars. Not sure that finger will grow back though, but hell, you’ve still got nine.”

  William looked up at Dunleavy, still writhing in pain from the torture that had been inflicted.

  “Fuck you” said the normally demure Englishman.

  Dunleavy whacked William with the back of his hand,

  “Fuck me??? I left you your fucking thumbs!!! You should be thanking me!” he said with a slightly raised voice.

  William looked away despondently.

  “Now you know what I mean when I talk about pain... So I’m going to give you the choice again. If you answer our questions, you will feel no more additional pain. If you don’t... well... you know what to expect.”

  William looked around the room. He looked at Casey, then Caleb, then Darcy.

  Not finding what he was looking for, he turned his attention to Murphy.

  “Are you going to let them do this? You are one of us!” William implored of his leaders daughter.

  Murphy stood from the arm rest of the sofa.

  She walked slowly towards the prisoner, and leant in towards him.

  “Not anymore...” she said with a menacing tone in her voice.

  Murphy stood upright, and walked back towards her perch.

  She had made her point.

  “Like I said,” Dunleavy said, “You have two choices. There’s no one here to help you.”

  William had the look of a man that had lost any sense of hope.

  Caleb recognised the look. He had seen it a few times in his past.

  It was the face of a defeated soldier, a look that only occurred when a soldier knew the end was near.

  “Now... Where will the next attack take place? What’s the target?” Dunleavy repeated the earlier question.

  William looked at Dunleavy, and then at the ground, “Do your worst...” he began, “I’ll never talk.”

  Caleb knew he was right. There was no sense of negotiation in his voice, no sense of fight.

  The man had been defeated, and he had given up.

  “Are you sure?” Dunleavy asked, “You know what happens if you don’t tell us, right? Or are you a complete fucking moron?”

  Caleb walked towards the older man, and put his arm on his shoulder.

  “It’s over Mike,” Caleb said, hoping a chance of tact might help the situation, “He’s not going to talk. Not yet...”

  Dunleavy shrugged Caleb’s hand off his shoulder, and stepped back, “For fuck sake Jackson!!! When will you get it?”

  Caleb stood face to face with Dunleavy, ready to accept the barrage coming his way.

  “These fuckers...” Dunleavy said, pointing at William, “They are planning to kill us all. Every fucking one of us! When will you understand that we have to do everything we can to stop them?”

  Dunleavy was clearly flustered, and began stalking the room as he spoke, “They have kil
led so many fucking people, and you say ‘It’s over’? It’s not... I’ve only just begun with this asshole. If he doesn’t talk, then I’m going to fucking kill him.”

  “Kill him?” Caleb interrupted, “We don’t just kill people Mike, not unless we have to.”

  “Fucking hell, Jackson. When will you get to a point that we need to do it? Huh?”

  “When it’s an unarmed man that’s been tortured and poses no direct threat to us, I don’t think that’s the right time to kill him.”

  “You’re a fucking boy-scout.” Dunleavy angrily stated, “I thought when I recruited you that you would get it... that you would understand.”

  Then Murphy stepped between the pair, and pushed them apart.

  Casey still stood with his gun pointed at William, though it was apparent his attention was split between the prisoner and the conversation.

  William attempted to take advantage of the situation, making his move.

  He was not successful

  As soon as he moved, Casey returned his attention to where it needed to be, and William ceased his attempted action.

  “Dunleavy,” Murphy said, “You didn’t recruit him!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about Murphy? The information I had; the Intel I had all pointed towards him.”

  Murphy took her hand away from Caleb, and turned to face Dunleavy, “And where did that information come from? In fact, where did you get all your information?”

  Dunleavy looked perplexed, but he answered, “The missions, they came from a source. The information on Jackson, they came from the same source.”

  “What source was that, Mike?” asked Murphy.

  Caleb was silent. He knew Murphy was building to something, but he had no idea what.

  Mike took a breath, as though considering how much to share.

  “It started with letters... Letters that contained information that needed to be verified – site locations, information on assets, terrorist cells. There was no way to trace where the letters came from – they were hand delivered to wherever I was. But the information, as soon as I received it I could verify it. The letters also contained leads. Nothing huge at first, but they were key to eventually tracking some known targets. Those were your first missions, Jackson.”

  Dunleavy paused, and looked at Caleb.