Dawn of Defiance

by Dempsey, Albert

  Neliswe continued to sit on the beach, almost in a daze, contemplating all that had happened and all that would. She had witnessed firsthand the brutality being unleashed on the population.

  Her world also came crashing down as she knew it would. It started with Martin and the day he was detained at a zone crossing. He was never seen again, Neliswe knew the process and Martin knew the risks. Even though she knew more or less his whereabouts, for his own safety she had to stay out of it. The authorities required someone to fill in a missing person’s report, which would be the same as sentencing him to death not to mention, painting a big red star on her back.

  When she finally received confirmation via the PRM network that Martin was being held at a facility outside Paarl, she knew the chances of seeing him alive again was very slim. There was nothing she could do for him. His only value now, was for her to remain alive and at large. But it hurt nevertheless that she had to distance herself from him and her ties with the resistance. Survival was paramount.

  Her obsession to expose the truth about Staaldraad had turned her entire world upside down. All they had succeeded in doing was shaking the hornets' nest, which now swarmed and lashed out in vengeance against all who stood in its way. Open rebellion was quickly crushed, and with it the voice of the people went silent. But not forgotten. Red stars appeared everywhere, sprayed on buildings and drawn by hand in public restrooms. The secret rebellion was far from over.

  Kate Baxter too, it seemed, had been silenced. No updates or blogs had been broadcast; she had simply disappeared without warning, causing wide spread speculation within the organization.

  It seemed all hope was lost, many had been arrested during the following weeks; almost a third of the PRM members had been captured in Operation Clean Sweep.

  Neliswe had escaped capture that day by sheer luck, only because she didn’t hesitate. It took her all day to walk the distance between Newlands and Tableview. Her escape had been carefully planned so to avoid the obvious checkpoints and she knew which streets were not patrolled.

  There was a bitterly cold breeze blowing in from the sea, so Neliswe finally stood up and began walking along the beach towards Big Bay, then crossed Marine Drive and made her way over the ridge and down into Blaauwberg Sands, over the West Coast Road and into Parklands.

  Many had called it Dark Lands or Little Nigeria as the local white population had slowly been driven out. Gang warfare had also reared its ugly head, as boundary lines had been established to protect each other’s turf. Fueling the rivalry were opportunistic drug dealers who relied on the disenchanted for a steady flow of income. The Middle class was and would always be the class that paid for everything, yet most were so heavily in debt that they stopped caring about the future, living day to day, hand to mouth.

  It was almost a three kilometer walk and she did it whenever she felt caged. She now lived in a small flat with Tendai, a friend of her cousin. He was the only person she trust especially now as people started to turn on each other reporting suspicious behavior and hoping for a reward. Her name had been on the most-wanted list for the last few weeks with a substantial reward being offered for her capture.

  If anyone knew who she really was, she would be turned over to the authorities in a blink of an eye.

  But Neliswe was not stupid; she had already obtained her new identity from a Nigerian fixer who had contacts in the Government.

  “Almost home”, she said to herself as she came around the last corner and made her way towards the apartment complex. The security gate had been stolen and sold for scrap metal, many who lived on the poverty line were desperate. Buildings had not been repainted in many years and garbage was strewn along the sidewalks where make-shift fires constantly burned.

  Yet, she felt safe among the gangsters and drug merchants.

  Within Parklands suburbia, honest people commuted to and fro chasing a dream and hoping to pay off their debt.

  After reaching the safety of the third floor apartment, she closed the door behind her and made her way to the window to look down at the street below.

  A Mycity Bus had stopped with a loud mechanical hiss to spew its weary commuters into the cold to scurry back home for warmth and safety. Neliswe wondered at them as she watched them from the window. The different aromas of cooking drove her senses mad as some tenants were forced to cook anything they could afford. Those without electricity cooked on paraffin stoves, which added to the pungent smell emanating from all sides.

  She watched the cluster of weary workers below returning from their long day. It was 6.46 pm. and Tendai wasn’t back yet.

  He was a good man, intelligent and decent, with a stable job. But he wasn’t her type, she had a taste for a different culture and that upset many members of her family. Love was the last thing she was interested in and she made it perfectly clear. Everyday Martin was on her mind, and every day she had to overcome a flood of unpleasant thoughts. To survive she needed to focus on one thing at a time. The day would come when she could do something about his arrest. But it was not this day. Yet the thought of him in detention weighed heavily on her soul.

  He wouldn’t make it, he’s too much of a softy.

  Neliswe now understood Kate’s suffering all to well, for she too had lost her entire life, her career and any future prospects no matter how pathetic they may have been. But at least she did it for a principle, for a belief in something that mattered. To live without tyranny was now a fairly tale, for the world would never revert back to the way it was.

  I have sacrificed so much, for what, for truth and freedom? Neliswe laughed at herself.

  She desperately needed to find herself and to re-evaluate her strategy for living again.

  Was this now her burden to carry, her responsibility since Nathan and Kate had fallen silent?

  Neliswe felt that at the core, PRM was dead. The few who still had a passion; their voices would in no time die out and fade. But if they were to resurrect the organization, it would have to be done under a different name and at a chosen time. All that remained from her old life had been reduced to a back-pack and an ISIS iPad, which still lay deactivated next to the bedside table.

  Yet she was alive, and thank God not in Staal Draad. Just the thought of the place send a shudder down her neck. She would have to fight on, and her iPad was the key, for within its circuitry it still held all the damning evidence that had ignited the rebellion off in the first place. But first she would need to resurrect herself again.

  Neliswe had a plan.

  It wouldn’t be easy getting through all the check points, but with her new iBand arriving within the week she would have her new forged identity, and the chance to regroup.

  Neliswe stood in front of the mirror and pulled back her hoody to admire her new look. She couldn’t believe just how much her life had changed over the last few days. Turning her head from side to side, Neliswe admired her cleanly shaved head. It suited her.

  "My name is Tshedi Molefi. I am from the Transkei. I am looking for work as a waitress."

  At thirty two, she appeared younger now with her streamlined look. It had taken her less than half an hour to do. No doubt when Tendai got home he would be in shock, but it was a necessary precaution. After all, it was time for her braids to go. Pacing to the window again she looked down.

  Another bus with more slaves returning from work, but still no sign of him, she began to worry!

  Neliswe hoped that her new look would blend with the trendy Table View scene. An interview had been arranged for a waitress at one of the steak houses close to the beach front. She had walked pass it many time. Its name was Doodles.

  Standing at the mirror once more she looked at the person she would have to become. No matter how things have changed, the truth was the only thing that kept her focused.

  I’ll give it another two weeks before I start searching again, she thought.

  That should be enough time to re-assess the situation, and perhaps I should get a tribal tattoo, th
at would help with the disguise.

  Tshedi heard the noise of the bus and went to the window once more to make sure as the bus pulled away. Tendai stood looking up at the apartment.

  Finally, he's at home.

  Tendai would be the first to witness her new transformation. She wanted to tell him the truth about PRM but that would be too dangerous for him. It would be best to maintain the facade, a little lie to keep those she loved safe.

  With her entire network now shattered she was completely on her own. All she needed to do was to blend in and keep a low profile. Neliswe looked at herself in the mirror again. It was good to have a new start; now at least she stood a chance.

  My name is Tshedi Molefi, Neliswe said to herself, almost believing the lie.

  Chapter 48

  "The fourth beast is a fourth kingdom that will appear on earth. It will be different from all other kingdoms and will devour the whole earth, trampling it down and crushing it.

  The ten horns are ten kings who will come from this kingdom. After them another king will arise, different from the earlier ones; he will subdue three kings.

  He will speak against the Most High and oppress his saints and try to change the set times and laws. The saints will be handed over to him for a time, time and half a time."

  Daniel 7: 23-26

  London that once stood so proud was now a broken waste land of un recognizable landmarks. Famous structures that had taken years to construct had been obliterated in mere seconds. A twisted skeleton of the London Eye lay half submerged across the Thames. A stark remembrance of a fateful day now lay decaying within the huge crater that spread out for miles. In the distance a military helicopter, with its valuable cargo of dignitaries, surveyed from the air. The rebuilding project would be a task unlike any before with major construction companies now in a bidding war for the very lucrative contracts. Radiation levels had subsided to a safe level, yet the area was off limits and restricted to a few scientists who monitored it.

  Yet Vargän did not care, his mind was far away from what lay below.

  As with all great cities before, from Babylon to Rome, each had its place in history. The British Empire, had now vanished and with it the last chance of ever reclaiming her former glory.

  Seated beside him were other dignitaries all gasping out in shock at the scale of devastation! Royalty had always been around; another thorn in his side that one day would be abolished. None irritated him more than those from the House of Windsor. Yet, Harry was different from the others; in a strange way Vargän liked this King, there was something about his mannerisms that intrigued him and Harry did not care much about prestige or privilege.

  Out of principle Vargän refused to call anyone by their title. From deep within his being he could not wait to usher in his own sovereign plan.

  A Baron from some obscure royal bloodline and his pampered daughter hung off every word King Harry said; however everyone on board knew who held the real reins of power. It was evident as they were too scared to even speak to Vargän, who sat flanked by his personal bodyguards.

  The rebuilding of London was not a priority at all, actually he liked it the way it was. If he wished to stall the reconstruction process, he could but for now the population needed hope. They desired a symbol of hope, and to keep the slave class in its place, they would have it.

  New York, however, still lay in ruins as the American economy now in a deep depression and under immense pressure to repay their enormous debt to the IMF. Rumors from Washington and Beijing disturbed him. Secret meetings behind closed doors was always a sure sign of panic regarding their struggling economies. China had far too many mouths to feed and the USA was bordering on a civil war.

  Vargän had informers within the highest office of the United States. Those within the Brotherhood of Light, the so called Illuminati, had no idea at all as to the real master plan, for he was far above their capstone and his network incorporated elements beyond their human understanding. He laughed at that as well.

  The North American Trade Union of Canada, Mexico and the USA imploded after the Amero devalued. They now had to repay the UWN bailout loans, which continued to expand the UWN reserves. Pride is something best used against the ignorant who continue to hold onto their outdated traditions and beliefs. The American empire too had been shaken at its foundation. However great as they once were, they had lasted just over a century. No great boast compared to other empires. Yet they had contributed the most to the destruction of the earth, more than any other nation and for that they would have to pay. Guilt would enslave future generations of Americans into obedience.

  Vargän laughed at those in the Brotherhood of Masons, those who had placed themselves in positions of influence, only to see it swept away by his mandate and the backing of the UWN. He had also acquired a new gift, he could tell people apart by looking at their auras. It was child's play to spot a Catholic from a Christian, or a Jew from a Muslim, regardless of what clothing they were wearing. Those in his chosen circle had all been carefully screened and selected by his newly appointed aide, Heinrich Schultz, who like Vargän had enhanced abilities of insight and perception. Poor old Lucia was no match, his old friend now belonged to a bygone era and alas there was no space anymore for his kind.

  His time, like London, had come and gone.

  Heinrich was Vargän's new protégé, at only 32 he had already risen high within the Order, completing every task assigned him with dedication and delight. His one true, life-long ambition was to serve the Order and to fulfill the vision of a New World Order with only one supreme leader.

  Vargän's telepathic abilities had been greatly enhanced since the accident and he felt a connection with those around him, especially Heinrich. Often he would send him a mental message and Heinrich would react immediately. Reading someone's thoughts was a new delight that Vargän had discovered, and he used it to his advantage.

  After the tour and a brief media appearance, Vargän and his delegation left via helicopter, once more headed towards a secret location deep within Kent. Finally he would meet his chosen disciples who would serve him unquestioningly; they, like Heinrich, had the same telepathic abilities. Some other power connected them all and bound them to a common goal.

  The enlightened gathering was well-known by many who had also frequented Bohemian Grove. An estate of vast proportion and wealth stretched out below, with its elegantly sculpted gardens and statues displaying power and greed. The family who once owned this land had been recruited to follow the Order unquestioningly. Security guards and staff stood at the ready as the huge helicopter descended onto the immaculately groomed lawn.

  Standing to one side under some trees was a woman in her mid-twenties. Her eyes fixed on the helicopter and the man it carried. She had dreamed of this moment since she first came into The Light. Her prince and master had returned to his rightful place. Blood swelled in her breasts as she became aroused at the thought of being in his presence.

  Vargän however waited patiently in the helicopter until a cordon of guards in black robes had taken up position. The guard of honor formed around him like a human shield as soon as he left the safety of the air craft.

  The girl watched as he got closer and closer, soon he would be within meters of her. She could feel his heart beat in her own chest. What was happening to her? It seemed he was calling to her, reaching out to her in ways she had never experienced before.

  Then all of a sudden Vargän stopped and turned to her.

  "Come," he said to her mind and she obeyed.

  The guards opened up for her as she approached. No one said a word but she heard what they were thinking. Trembling, she stood before her master, but a force sank her down to her knees and she bowed her head.

  Vargän placed his hand on her head. The flow of his power overwhelmed her and she collapsed unconscious on the lawn.

  "Prepare her," Vargän said to Heinrich, as he began walking away.

  Four robed guards gently picked her up and carr
ied her away into a basement deep within the mansion. There would be a ceremonial sacrifice tonight, a feast for the chosen.

  Tomorrow Vargän would need all his abilities to address the world and those gathered at the opening of the Olympic Games in Berlin. His predecessor had once addressed them, but he was totally ill-equipped for his mission. Adolf Hitler had potential but like many others he came long before the appointed time. Everything has to do with timing; everything happens as it should, when it should. Israel once again was the time keeper with the Third Temple now complete.

  To usher in a New World Order would take total commitment and dedication by millions of true believers in his vision. They would now be called upon to fulfill their duty and to make the necessary sacrifices needed. Berlin will erupt once again as it did before, but this time they would see the vision and understand his thoughts as he spoke it.

  As with all true leaders of antiquity, blood was always the means to bind those into complete obedience.

  Vargän’s thought patterns had shifted dramatically, his sense of focus and purpose had merged into one. Memories of the coma was from a time not his own. With clarity unlike anything before he knew in the clearest detail the plans that needed to be set in motion. It was as if they had been thought out centuries before.

  "Leave me," he thought and his attendants immediately left the room.

  His body had been pushed to exhaustion by this new power that had taken hold of him.

  During sleep the old Vargän returned with terrifying dreams, helpless to do anything about it. But every time he woke, a wave of darkness took over and smothered him into silence.