Dawn of Defiance

by Dempsey, Albert

  "Well, firstly the media is controlled, like all components in a propaganda machine," Nathan replied. "You don't honestly believe the news, do you?"

  Kate knew from her own experience that news gets edited; everything becomes more acceptable to the masses when it's been sent through a censorship filter.

  "It makes me sick", Nicole said. "I'm tired of living in a society of half-truths."

  They all seemed to agree with Nicole on that point.

  "I see you guys are not wearing any iBands either, what's with that?"

  "Oh, yes, we strive to live without technology that enslaves man," Nathan said and the others agreed with him. Perhaps that's why they began to accept her. Kate still felt naked without her iBand.

  This guy has far too much power over Nicole, she thought.

  But she seemed to understand why. He was drop-dead gorgeous, with a rugged charisma.

  Those eyes are to die for.

  She now understood Nicole's dilemma. Time seemed to fly and it was delightful to escape to the company of strangers who had accepted her into their circle without too many questions. Kate was still unsure about Nathan and his strange group of friends who followed him, but she felt safe for the first time in days.

  Chantel, however, hung off every word Kate spoke. The conversation revolved around politics and food, exactly the distraction she needed. After lunch and a little siesta on the rocks with the sun beating down, it was time to get back to the farm.

  Nicole struggled to say good-bye but Kate finally pulled her off Nathan as they made their way back to the house on the quad. All the supplies had miraculously disappeared.

  Kate then realized that Nicole had been very busy feeding them.

  "Does your Dad know about them?" she asked when she opened the gate again.

  "No, and he doesn't need to know. They're not on our land, anyway."

  It was late afternoon when Nicole and Kate finally got home. Nathan however could tell that Kate was holding back, it was in her mannerisms and her body language. After so many years in the Kibbutz, he still struggled to accept non-believers. He could tell from her conversation that she was still contaminated with the world and troubled by her past. Anyway, who knew if he will ever see her again? Yet, in a way he hoped he would, as she was lost and needed salvation, for sure. But still, there was something special about her and he just couldn't put his finger on it.

  It was almost 5:30 in the afternoon when they got back from their adventure in the mountains. The heat was still oppressive and Nicole insisted they take a dip in the pool to wash the dust off and to cool down. Kate used a blue and green one-piece swimsuit Nicole gave her. Both girls had similar figures, which was ideal as all the clothes Kate tried on fitted perfectly. Nicole, as always, had to be the first one in. She ran and dived like a dolphin into the cool refreshing pool and swam under water all the way to the other side and back again.

  "Come on, jump in," Nicole pleaded.

  Kate was more reserved and took her time, finally taking the plunge. Her life had spun out of control again, and somehow she noticed it happened every few years.

  Why can't things be normal again? Why does it always have to end in chaos? She thought.

  Kate also decided to swim underwater; to immerse herself completely and escape from a world gone crazy. There was something about this Nathan that Kate didn't trust completely. But then, the USA and Britain always had their issues, especially when they joined with the UWN. After all, America was once a British colony, much like the rest of the world. This Nathan seemed a little too confident and smooth; perhaps he was hiding from something. Both girls were in the pool when Nicole's father came out to see them.

  They could tell something terrible had happened.

  "Come, you need to see this," he said.

  The girls shot out of the pool, dried themselves and dashed to the lounge. They stood in front of the TV reading the ticker tape headlines:

  Breaking News!

  Massive earthquake hits Indonesia.

  Thousands feared dead.

  Tsunami warning declared.

  They all sat in silence, mesmerized by the carnage caused and at the suffering of so many. Kate, however, was idolizing her man once again. Vargän Barchevski, President of the UWN, had dispatched aid packages and troops to assist in the rescue operation. If the world had come undone, somehow she felt, he would be able to fix it.

  She needed someone like that in her life right now.

  Chapter 20

  "A man who stands for nothing will fall for anything."

  Malcolm X

  The sea was dark-blue this morning as they jogged along the promenade. Kazak and his crew had begun their fitness program, due to Inna his Ukrainian girlfriend, who danced at one of the strip clubs in town. She had impressed him with her headstrong attitude and stubbornness. No matter how hard her life had been, she always kept a positive outlook and took care of her family back home.

  Inna was in a league of her own. When her mother fell sick, Kazak gave her the money to go back to the Ukraine, knowing very well she may never return. That was a few months ago. Since then they continued with her fitness program, and that meant when Kazak went for his run, so did his entire entourage.

  Two of his bodyguards ran ahead while the rest stayed close to Kazak; Dmitri was always closes to Kazak, his human shield. Kazak seemed on top of the world this morning, greeting locals he recognized as he passed them by. Ahead lay the Sea Point Public Swimming Pool; it opened bright and early every morning at 6am sharp. Leaning against the railing close to the entrance was a white man in his late thirties with balding hair.

  Kazak spotted him and signaled his guards, who held back as he jogged up to the man, a little out of breath.

  "Nice morning, Sergeant," Kazak greeted the man who was in civilian clothes.

  Gerhard van Staden had applied to be a forensic detective but unfortunately never got accepted. Feeling rejected by the South African Police Service he began to supplement his meager salary to better himself. With full police access to the ISIS system and the Zone CCTV Network, he offered surveillance monitoring to those who could afford his fee. A service he made accessible to those who could pay, and Gerhard had a weakness for girls and gadgets.

  Kazak’s guards milled around, trying to stay their distance, but they knew this man and they did not like him. Kazak had used him before and it had paid off. However, Gerhard also had a reputation of turning on those he could exploit for profit. If his clients did not treat him right he would simply target them next. But Kazak had enough dirt on him to keep him in check.

  "I got your message last night and yes, I can trace her for you," he said while leaning on the railings, watching the swimmers below.

  "Good, I don't care how deep you must look; I just want you to find her. Here is a list of people I think she may know."

  He took the piece of paper from Kazak and looked at it for a moment before folding it up and sliding it into his pocket.

  "You said it's super-urgent, so here are my terms."

  Kazak did not like this man at all but needed him, so he put up with his ill-mannered nature.

  "I need the following things, and please, no junk but high-end, ok?" he replied, giving Kazak a piece of paper.

  Reading it all, Kazak nodded and agreed at once.

  "Yes I have all this merchandise, and not Chinese shit, top brands," Kazak boasted.

  "Ok, good! I will get onto it right away and see what I can find."

  Kazak could only dream of having access to the zone surveillance systems at Gerhard's disposal that automatically logged everyone's movements, tracking their timelines and exact GPS coordinates.

  Within the ISIS system all iBands were tracked and the data was automatically stored. Digital fingerprinting the entire population had been achieved in eighteen months. It was even believed that all conversations were monitored and stored, in the great fight against terrorism. All text messages and emails had been stored for many yea
rs already. Even the Google Corporation was rumored to be working with the UWN in combating terrorism.

  The profiles established through social networks had long been used as forensic fingerprints to link suspected extremists and their organizations. Facebook was the first to revolutionize the social networks and those that followed were all infiltrated by the security industry, to monitor the public domain at large. Yet, only the truly dangerous withdrew to other means of communication; knowing full well the authorities were monitoring everything and everyone digitally.

  "You can fetch your goods as soon as you find the girl," Kazak said.

  "Good, I will call you later today."

  And with that he walked away without even saying good-bye.

  It was not even 7.30 in the morning and the Sea Point Promenade was as busy as ever, with people jogging, cycling and walking dogs. With new energy Kazak jogged back faster than he had before; some of his guards struggled to keep up. They all knew he noticed everything and would no doubt comment on those who slacked behind. A punishment would always be dealt out to the one who came in last. Little rivalries helped in building and strengthening his team; without them he knew he was an easy target.

  Arriving back at his house in Ocean View Drive ahead of everyone else was a sure thing, as no one dared to beat Kazak. That punishment was usually reserved for new recruits who were trying to impress.

  He strolled to the indoor pool area where his towel and robe was already waiting. Taking off his running clothes, Kazak stripped down to his Speedo before jumping in. During this time the house chef had already prepared his breakfast, which he insisted on eating alone. It was during these times that he planned his day.

  For the rest of the crew, they had breakfast in the dining room, which was already becoming too cramped for the small army he kept on the payroll. Money was not a problem, but maintaining the machine that made it was, and from time to time a broken cog had to be amended or replaced.

  Today was such a day, but unfortunately it could not be repaired; it had to be disposed of. He had already selected two of his new recruits for the job. They were eager to please and they had to be tested. Little did they know that they were not selected for promotion, but because they were expendable. If they came back from their mission, great; if not, then no worry! He called them in and spoke to them in private, while the others fought over the last of the bacon and sausage.

  Today he decided to relax at home and think in the safety of his surroundings. Even though his warehouse was a fortress, he still felt vulnerable in Woodstock. In Sea Point a different class of person lived and he liked these people. Many of his customers had become friends over the years, and he had made friends with the local Jewish community, which he realized still controlled Sea Point. Kazak had the best Jewish doctors and lawyers at his disposal, but it was Selman Nieman, his financial advisors, that he treasured the most.

  The barter system of trade came at a high price, but he had more than enough to go around. Which reminded Kazak, he needed more crown work done and Dr. Solomon loved antique furniture. He had just the perfect piece for him in mind.

  However, most of his wealth came from the production and distribution of AKA which was manufactured far away, removed from the affluent suburb of Sea Point.

  Someone, today, would pay for his loss and their stupid mistake. It was a very risky undertaking, especially in these times, under such conditions. However, dead bodies from the gang wars were common place, and each and every week Lavender Hill had its quota.

  "The game is about to start. You want to watch it with us or must I record it for you?" Dmitri asked Kazak as he looked up from his yogurt and cereal. Football was the obsession with his boys, a drug far more powerful than AKA. On the days when Liverpool or Manchester played, it was impossible to get any work done. It looked like they were all going to spend the day at home, in front of the massive plasma screen.

  "I will be there in a moment," he said.

  It was important to spend time with his boys; in a way he was like a father-figure to them. Kazak had left many things behind in Kvev when he abandoned his wife and son.

  All that he truly loved was in the Ukraine, but that was a world far removed from his own lifestyle now. Every year he still celebrated his son's birthday. Ivan will be twenty four this year.

  For the duration of the game they shouted and cursed. It was a relief to be detached from the machine that Kazak had to maintain each and every day. The game had resulted in no goals and now, into extra time, things had begun to heat up as there was money on the game; there always was.

  Dmitri touched Kazak on the shoulder.

  "There is a call for you. It's that policeman again," he said.

  Usually no one would disturb Kazak during a game, but Dmitri knew what mattered and Kazak trusted his discretion. Taking the call in his office, Kazak sat down behind his desk.

  "Yes, Gerhard, any news?"

  "I've found her!"

  Chapter 21

  "A total world population of 250-300 million people; a 95 percent decline from present levels would be ideal."

  Ted Turner - Audubon Magazine

  Steenkamp was not in a good mood. The flight back to Staaldraad from Cape Town took longer than expected. He was forced to take the transport shuttle from Ysterplaat Air force Base, something he had not done since his early days in the Defense Force. Modisa watched from a dilapidated hangar at the end of the runway as Steenkamp’s plane touched down.

  It was a two kilometer drive from the prison camp. He enjoyed spending time alone, far away from the prisoners, where he could finally breathe, where the air was fresh, void from the stink of their fate.

  Most of the undesirables arrived by train or bus from other parts of the country for processing. The cult members from Mt. Carmen had been tagged and now awaited Steenkamp who had the final say over them.

  A knot formed in Modisa's stomach as he watched Steenkamp disembark from the unregistered military plane. From the expression on his face, it was going to be a bad day.

  "Welcome back, Sir. I hope your flight was not too unpleasant?" Modisa asked.

  Steenkamp did not answer; he needed time to vent. It was typical of him.

  The gravel runway was situated along the northern boundary of the complex; about a ten minute drive from Staaldraad which, at a distance, still looked like any normal mining complex. As a detention facility they had to follow procedure and protocol, but Steenkamp cared very little for that. This was South Africa after all, and no European policymaker was going to tell him how to run his base. Sometimes Steenkamp had to remind himself that he had been selected for a very important task.

  It came with a duty that required complete loyalty to the program. Staaldraad officially did not exist, as it fell so far under the radar that he would never get any recognition for his work. He did enjoy the perks, and the great air-conditioning system specially installed for the sensitive Europeans. They still couldn't take the harsh African sun. Back in the old days, when he was still in the SADF, there was seldom any air-conditioning, even for the Generals.

  Modisa had completed his first mission on Mt. Carmen without Steenkamp breathing over his shoulder and it felt great to be in command of so many soldiers. He had even dropped a few kilograms and was feeling on top of the world. His new rank of Lt. Commander had come with a pay-check, which he felt was his reward for the work he was doing. Lieutenant Colonel Steenkamp however earned far more than he did, and he had rank and privilege that only came with many years of service.

  Steel pipes and fences were used in the construction of the holding pens which were already becoming overcrowded. Contract workers were busy erecting additional pens which needed to be ready in 48 hours as a new batch was on its way. This would be the largest group to date, so all contractors had to be finished and off site before they arrived.

  However, Steenkamp was not interested in the rabble, vagrants, street children and the outcasts of society. The extremists from Mt.
Carmen were separated from the other prisoners and placed far away in isolation until he could assess them.

  Steenkamp and Modisa walked together past the holding pens and isolation cells. The stink and stench of soiled humans combined with disinfectant, was ever present as it wafted through the air. Most of the guards wore air-masks to filter out the germs, but it stunk nevertheless, seeping into clothing.

  The South African contingent at Staaldraad had developed a higher resistance to the local viruses that had already claimed a few staff. On average, five prisoners would die every day from medical related conditions.

  "This list, is it all of them?" Steenkamp asked Modisa as they strolled to the secluded holding pens at the far end of the prison compound.

  Junior officers snapped to attention as they walked past.

  "Yes, Commander, only a total of thirty eight. We have separated them into two sections; women and children over there and the men on this side."

  A brick wall divided the group down the middle, preventing them from seeing each other.

  "Where's the leader, Mr. Roberts, or the Elder, as he's called?" Steenkamp asked as he looked at the form.

  "Yes sir, he's still in the interrogation block; needed some medical treatment."

  "Oh ok, did he have anything interesting to say?"

  Modisa was without words, not knowing if Steenkamp was joking with him or genuinely asking the truth.

  "Well, Colonel, it depends what you define as interesting. They are very religious as you know, so everything that comes out of their mouths is condemnations of us, and the world we live in. Actually, I think they want to die," he said.

  Turning to face Modisa, Steenkamp was a head taller than the man.

  "I'm not going to spend hours interrogating them again - you know they're crazy. It's like hitting your head against a brick wall. Did anyone reveal any news about the American, or the location of the other 'Christ 4 Life' Kibbutz, the Ark?"

  "Yes Colonel, the Elder did eventually admit to knowing the man, but said that he disappeared a few days ago," Modisa revealed.