Chapter Ten
After Drellic’s death, a democratic faction called, “The People’s Salvation”, had established a fully functioning government in Russia. It was well received by the people and paved the way for a new era of hope in the region. The leader of TPS was Marco Gropovski. He was perceived by his citizens to be a man of peace, who would restore the once proud nation back to its original state. However unbeknownst to the general public, Gropovski was an agent of Winston Severov, and had a dark agenda hiding behind his seemingly good nature.
Winston, who had recently ordered Gropovski to send more “bodies” to Mars, was on his way back to Moscow, with Simone West-Hammond in tow. It was Gropovski, who was keeping the presence of the Darkside facility a secret from the public, and was a well-placed figurehead, for his falsely benevolent faction.
It was the morning of January 10th, 2032 and the coldest morning of the season, thus far. Gropovski was patiently waiting at the base of the demolished skyscraper, which acted as a cleverly disguised rooftop for Severov’s underground base of operations.
When Severov had traveled to West Virginia to intercept Clement’s platoon, he had made the journey in a standard combat helicopter and left all of his Drellic Tech behind, to conserve his resources, in preparation for future assaults. From inside the combat helicopter, he was able to hack into Clement’s recon ships, which he knew were purposely leading him in the wrong direction.
Using a specialized, long range remote, made of carbon composite material, Winston was not only able to assume control of the recon patrol’s computer systems, but of the organic tentacles that served as safety harnesses aboard the ships, and were inspired by ancient Architect technology. Once he had used Clement’s own ships to destroy his convoy of supply trucks, he used his remote to command the ships to land, and then turned the safety harnesses, restraining the crews, into instruments of death; ordering them to tightly choke Clement’s men, until their necks were broken. He then commandeered the ships and used them to safely guide his helicopter back to base.
Gropovski was a middle-aged Caucasian, with a thick gray mustache and very pale complexion. He stood before the secret entrance to the Darkside base with a nervous expression. His armed escorts had failed to meet him at the location, as planned.
He wore a thick black Ushanka, which pressed his thick eyebrows firmly against his forehead, and complemented his long gray military jacket. Despite knowing the incredible need for secrecy about the project, he was still bewildered by the absence of his usual entourage, and had the uneasy feeling that he had somehow displeased Severov.
“People are typically executed this way,” he whispered to himself, as he looked overhead, to see Winston’s helicopter and escort of six Drellic Tech recon ships, coming in for a landing.
As Gropovski struggled to maintain his composure, the six recon ships quickly buzzed by him and disappeared down into the underground section, concealed beneath the skyscraper ruins. The helicopter carrying Severov and his most trusted advisors, landed in the street, in front of him.
Severov exited the helicopter alone and approached Gropovski, as his men took off behind him and disappeared behind The Kremlin, which was directly behind Severov. The streets were all but deserted, as a result of the nationwide curfew that was in effect for certain hours, every day. The curfew appeared to the public, to be justified by falsified radiation spikes, because of nuclear weapons used during the Drellic War.
Both Gropovski and Severov had taken every precaution possible, to stop the public from learning of the dealings, transpiring beneath their feet. They both felt as though it was almost too perfect of a plan.
Gropovski and Severov exchanged salutes and formally addressed one another.
“You brought that woman here,” Gropovski said in an uneasy tone. He was referring to Simone, who was still aboard Winston’s helicopter.
“Yes, I did. Is this a problem?” Severov asked insinuatingly.
“Of course not,” Gropovski replied, as his voice cracked from stress.
“I thought that we could talk in private, about the information received from our special friends in Shadow,” Severov continued.
“Yes, of course,” replied Gropovski.
“It seems as though we have a situation. An unfortunate and unforeseen complication. Their resources have already been depleted and they need more,” Severov said coldly.
“How many more?” Gropovski asked. His nerves were clearly getting the best of him. He was shaking from head to toe, while waiting for Severov to deliver the news he had been dreading for years.
“Two thousand, should do it,” Severov exclaimed.
“Two thousand?!” Gropovski yelled. Severov raised his hand, to order Gropovski to lower his voice. “You son of a bitch. Are there even that many of us left?” Gropovski harshly replied.
This angered Severov. Winston approached Gropovski and forcefully smacked him across his face. Marco was knocked backward a few steps, which caused him to slip on a patch of black ice and fall to the ground. Severov then towered over him.
He knelt down at his side and whispered in his ear, “If you don’t get this done, there won’t be any of us left, and you know it. Now, how long do you expect this to take?”
“Your projected worst case scenario, checks out,” Gropovski nervously replied. “It will take ten years. I promise you. It can and will be done. But it will take ten years to build the ships and then gather and deploy the resources.”
Winston pondered his words for a moment and then helped Marco to his feet. “Their patience will wither and their blood will boil,” Severov began. “But in the end, they will comply. Because the payoff will ensure that we will all survive this.” He then put his hands on Gropovski’s shoulders, smiled and said, “You’ve done very well. Keep doing good work.”
After his abrupt mood change, Severov left Gropovski standing alone and trembling in the street, as he disappeared into the compound. Gropovski then heard the sound of the combat helicopter landing on the opposite side of the building behind him. It meant that Simone was officially on the ground. Her presence confused Marco to no end, because it was unlike Severov to ever take prisoners. He could only speculate, as Winston’s reasons for bringing Simone into the heart of the new Darkside.
Two hours later, Simone awoke from a deep, drug induced sleep, inside one of Winston’s interrogation rooms. She was tied with thick rope to a rickety wooden chair, in a small room with gray concrete walls. A single spotlight that swung back and forth from a thin wire, attached to the ceiling, shone down upon her.
Her coat and hat were missing and she had been stripped down to her black tee shirt and tight gray jeans. Her hands were tied behind her back with another length of rope. Her feet were tied to the front legs of the chair in the same fashion. Her mouth had also been gagged with a moist, smelly rag. She knew that if she tried to struggle, the chair would topple over, worsening her injuries. So instead of putting up a fight, she decided to wait patiently for her captor.
Simone was no stranger to situations like these, and knew that the fact she was still alive, only improved her odds of eventual escape. As soon as her eyes had adjusted to her new surroundings, a metal door to her right was unlocked and slowly opened. Winston Severov entered the room, closed and locked the door behind him. He signaled to one of his guards, through the small rectangular opening in the center of the door, to take a walk. Winston then walked to the far corner of the room and unplugged the late twentieth century security camera, wired through a small hole in the ceiling. He then pulled a wooden stool out of the shadows below the camera and sat just a few feet in front of Simone. She refused to look him in the eye, as she struggled to take her mind off of the taste of the rag in her mouth.
To her relief, Winston pulled the rag from her mouth and threw it on the floor, allowing her to utter the words, “You should’ve killed me in West Virginia.”
Winston laughed and replied, “I like your attitude. Under d
ifferent circumstances, you and I could’ve actually gotten along quite well. Sadly, we’ll never know. Now, down to business. You are alive for one reason. Several months ago, you had the honor of spending a great deal of time, with a man I greatly admire. I want to know everything you remember about Drellic Kail. Even details that might seem insignificant to you, might be extremely significant to me. I want to know everything, down to the taste of his breath, in your mouth.”
Simone remained silent for a moment, stared into Winston’s eyes and simply repeated, “You should’ve killed me in West Virginia.”
Winston then smiled and whispered, “It’s funny you should say that. I’m told that your husband said something very similar to my associates; those who had the pleasure of ending his life. Unfortunately for Callum, he had no valuable information, with which to secure a reunion for the two of you. Though, I suppose there could’ve been certain advantages to letting him live just a little while longer. His presence may have encouraged you to be more generous with me. It’s so sad that we’ll never know and that I’m now forced to do this the hard way.”
Simone then proceeded to spit in Winston’s face. The wad of saliva landed on his brow. He closed his eyes and wiped it away with his black leather glove. He then rose to his feet and kicked Simone’s chair backwards. Once the back of her chair landed on the concrete floor, her bound wrists that were tied behind her chair, broke instantly, and were pressed against the floor by her own body weight.
She screamed in pain, as Winston retrieved the wet gag from beside her and shoved it back into her mouth. “Your screams are like nails on a chalkboard,” he scoffed, as he straddled her and spit in her face, to return her gesture of disrespect.
Winston then stood over her and pulled his Drellic Tech, carbon composite remote from his pocket. He entered a sequence of commands, which were followed by a horrifying slurping sound, coming from the ceiling above. Winston then slowly walked backwards towards the door, smiled and said, “The ancient humans talked about the Architects quite a bit, on that recording device you found in Antarctica, Simone. Would you believe that at one time, this planet was visited by a vast fleet of living ships? A vast army of slimy disgusting creatures, carrying the most powerful entities in all of creation, most likely set foot on this exact spot, billions of years ago. As filthy as they must’ve looked, you can’t help but be inspired by technology like that, can you?”
Winston then stood in the open doorway, preparing to slam the door behind him, as he left. He gazed up at the ceiling, where it was still too dark to see the source of the strange sound, and then back down at Simone. He gave her a sinister grin and said, “We’ve managed to salvage some of the organic elements from your ships and have incorporated them into our ranks as pets, you might say. I’ll be back once they’ve gotten acquainted with you.” Winston then left, locking the door behind him. Simone looked up at the ceiling in terror, as three thick slimy tentacles, quickly descended from the shadows above, latching onto her neck, breasts and stomach, like giant leeches.
The Drellic Saga: Books One, Two and Three Page 33