The leader of the Varangian Guard, dreaded by his enemies, had suddenly become meek. He drove to Minsk with Julia and she moved into a small apartment in the city center. Sooner or later, they wanted to move together, just as Kohlhaas had always imagined it.
Meanwhile, it was November, and Frank had just ignored the recent news on Belarusian television. A lot had changed in the last weeks - for the worse.
The World Government had announced to support the collectivists with GCF units. Moreover, the World Union had begun to supply the enemies of the Rus with weapons from western Europe and North America. Now the Lodge Brothers even sent military experts to Russia, who should help Uljanin to build up a professional army.
”Artur Tschistokjow`s bloody regime won`t be tolerated by the international community anymore!”, announced the World President in New York and this time he seemed to mean what he said.
The leader of the freedom movement had meanwhile returned to Minsk. And while Frank spent his days with love and relaxing idleness, the Belarusian president and his cabinet tried to find an answer to the question: What can we do, if the GCF attacks?
Their chances were ridiculously small, that was obvious. In these days, Thorsten Wilden visited his daughter a few times and disappeared again then, to confer with Artur Tschistokjow or even the Japanese foreign minister. If Russia would really descend into civil war, then Japan had to help.
”I have to leave you tomorrow. We have the order to drive to Nowgorod”, said Frank sadly.
“Yes, and I accept it. I will support you, from now on, and wait for you here. In the next days, I will help out a bit at the “Scythians Elementary School”, and then I will take a look at the university of Minsk”, replied Julia and tried to smile.
“This mission will just be a patrol, as the command has told me. Just driving around and driving away then...”
“The main thing is, that you come back to me”, whispered the young woman and hugged him.
“Of course, I will come back, as soon as I can. I promise it.”
They spent a passionate night and fell asleep without worry. On the next day, general Kohlhaas left the apartment, still spurred by his luck, giving Julia a last kiss.
Then Frank made his way to the barracks in the outskirts of Minsk and drove with the Varangian Guard north. During the trip, he thought of Julia all the time, and always smiled happily to himself when he saw her beautiful face in front of his mind`s eye.
The motorized unit advanced to Valdaj, where everything was quiet, because the villages and small towns here were already in the hands of the Rus. Most of the inhabitants greeted friendly when the trucks with the dragon head flags raced past them. This region seemed to be peaceful, and Frank was sure that the next days and weeks would remain quiet too.
In the last week of November, a group of collectivists occupied a school in the east of St. Petersburg, taking the teachers and students as hostages. Belarusian television reported explicitly about it. The red-black terrorists demanded the withdrawal of the Rus from the entire city, and threatened to kill all the school children and teachers.
Finally, the school was under siege for three days, until it was stormed by the police and the soldiers of the Volksarmee. In return, the hostage-takers left a terrible bloodbath, murdering 127 students and 14 teachers before they could be shot by the police.
This incident shocked the people in St. Petersburg and in the surrounding regions. However, the international press twisted the facts in the usual way, making the Rus responsible for the massacre. This meant another storm of lies and slander against Tschistokojow and the freedom movement, which lasted for weeks.
But the leader of the Rus used the incident in St. Petersburg in his sense, starting his own little media campaign with the Belarusian television and the few newspapers which were in his hands. However, the Belarusians and the people in the Baltic countries finally developed a burning hatred against Uljanin and the CASJ. Thus, the situation was further escalating and the way was paved for a civil war in Russia.
Meanwhile, Thorsten Wilden was in Tokyo since three days. Impatiently, he was waiting for a reaction of the Japanese foreign minister. For today, Akira Mori had invited him into his house in the outskirts of the capital, in order to discuss the behavior of Japan in the case of a future civil war in Russia.
The two diplomats were strolling through a beautiful garden, full of high trees and blooming bushes, and finally went into the house. Wilden gave his Japanese ally a friendly smile, while the Asian fetched a bottle of Sake. Then, the two men began to converse in English.
“Are you really sure that there will be a civil war in Russia, Mr. Wilden?”, asked Akira Mori.
“We have conquered St. Petersburg and now there is already civil war! The collectivists will never accept their defeat in western Russia”, replied the Belarusian foreign minister.
Mori pondered for a moment and scratched his head. Then he sat down on a chair and studied various documents.
“President Matsumoto is not sure, whether Japan should actually get involved into this conflict. We are glad, that we have survived the attack of the GCF”, he remarked.
“Without the help of Japan, we will have no chance against Uljanin”, said Wilden worriedly, beholding the bottom of his sake glas.
“This is no easy decision for us!”
“I know, Mr. Mori.”
“What is if the World Government attacks us again? This could happen if we intervene in Russia...”
Wilden shook his head. “I do not think so. Please don`t forget that thousands of young men from all over the world have supported the Japanese in the independence war. Now, we want Japan`s help!”
Akira Mori pulled a long face and was obviously looking for a satisfying answer for his guest from Belarus.
“Our revolution must not fail, Mr. Mori! If we are successful and assume power in Russia, Japan will have an important ally in Europe”, continued Wilden.
“What`s about more money and weapons?”, suggested Mori.
The gray-haired German shook his head and was not content with the answer.
”This is not enough! We need the help of the Japanese army - in Siberia!”, explained the German.
“Attacking Siberia?”
“Yes!”
“But Siberia is nothing but thousands of kilometers of ice and stepps. There are only a few towns and cities, what means that there is not much we could attack, Mr. Wilden.”
The Japanese foreign minister seemed to be overwhelmed with the wishes of his colleague.
“My plan is a Japanese land invasion that reaches Irkutsk and Krasnoyarsk!”, said Wilden firmly.
“Irkutsk? Krasnoyarsk?” His interlocutor stared at him with wide eyes.
“The only way...”
“We have not the power for an operation like this, Mr. Wilden.”
”The collectivists and the GCF are not very strong in the eastern part of Siberia. Their forces are concentrated in central Russia, remember that”, returned Tschistokjow`s foreign minister.
“This sounds crazy, Mr. Wilden!”
“If Belarus is smashed by the GCF or overrun by the collectivist revolution, then Uljanin and the World Government will isolate and attack Japan again. Your nation needs allies, in order to survive in the long term. I promise you, that Tschistokjow will do everything to make Russia to a major power again. And we will always fight on the side of the Japanese people!”, said the German grumpy.
Akira Mori sighed and took another glass of rice wine. Then he shrugged his shoulders and replied uncertainly: “I will ask president Matsumoto...”
Vitali Uljanin felt uncomfortable in his role. Theodore Soloto and his CLJ units had finally lost control over St. Petersburg and the Council of the Wise had already received the unpleasant news. So they had sent one of the elders to him, in order to conceive a strategy for the coming civil war in Russia.
The leader of the CASJ was fuming with rage and saw it as a humiliation, that he had to justify himself
in front of this man from North America, because of the defeat in St. Petersburg. For days, he had obsessed about his fantasies of revenge, swearing one thing to himself: Artur Tschistokjow would soon pay for his audacity, but apparently he was stronger and more determined than he had expected. Now he had no more alternative, but to accept the help of the Global Control Force.
The gray-haired councilor beheld Uljanin with a hint of arrogance and said: “Well, brother! I have the impression, that your revolution is not able to destroy the freedom movement in western Russia. It means, in the eyes of the elders, that the GCF has to help you to take over the power in entire Russia. What do you mean, brother Uljanin?”
“Give me just a little more time. We'll drive these bastards out of St. Petersburg again”, growled the goateed man.
“The council has no time for such games. We demand quick and unambiguous results in western Russia, but you have not been able to show them - so far. Anyway, we will send you some GCF divisions to support your organization. And then, the elders demand the extermination of the Rus, Mr. Uljanin.”
“The formation of a powerful red-black army can`t be done overnight”, returned the collectivist leader angrily.
“Take my advice!”, said the councilor coldly.
“How many GCF divisions will we get?”
“This is not yet clear. Soon, large contingents will be needed in India, Mr. Uljanin. But you`ll get enough helpers. Don`t worry.”
“I`m not worrying because of the Rus. Believe me, we can also smash them with our own men - sooner or later”, hissed the head of the CASJ.
The elder grinned cynically. “As we have seen it in St. Petersburg.”
Uljanin didn`t answer and just stared at his superior, narrowing his eyes to slits.
“Why does the Council of the 13 send so many soldiers to India?”, asked the goateed Lodge Brother then.
“We have our reasons...”, answered the councilor with an arrogant smirk.
“However, we will soon have conquered the Ukraine and then we will take over the power in the rest of Russia. What`s about Japan? Will Japan intervene?”
“I don`t think so. Matsumoto is happy if we leave him alone”, said the visitor from North America.
“Actually, the collectivst revolution does not need any support by the GCF”, grumbled Uljanin.
“No more discussions, brother!”, returned the elder. “You will get more money and more weapons - and now even GCF troops. This should be enough to conquer a land like Russia, shouldn`t it?”
The head of the CASJ got up from his seat and escorted the councilor to the door of his office. Suddenly, the guest turned around again and positioned himself right in front of Uljanin, looking him straight in the eyes.
“Finally, one last advice, brother. Do not always question
the instructions of the Council of 13! If we decide something, then it is God's word. Just to be clear! Bye!”, said the gray-haired man, raising his forefinger.
“Yes, Sir!”, stammered Uljanin and bowed.
When the guest had left, the leader of the red-black movement sat down on his chair and stared angrily at the wall. Uljanin had the impression, that the high gentlemen of the Council of the Elders did not take him all too seriously anymore. Just now, he had been treated like a silly boy. Full of anger, he kicked against his desk.
“Soon, you will recognize the elemental force of the unleashed masses. I will take over Russia and serve the Great Plan as a true revolutionary. And when the biggest country on earth is in my hands, those snooty elders will finally pay respect to me”, hissed Uljanin under his breath, clenching his bony fist.
The Varangian Guard had split up and was now driving in groups of three trucks through the large rural area west of Pestovo. Alfred Bäumer also led one of these groups, which was meanwhile about 50 kilometers away from Frank`s unit. Kohlhaas and his men were on the way to Krasuba, another small town in the Russian vastness.
Yesterday, they had been shot at from an ambush by some collectivists in a small village. Frank and his men had chased and finally caught them. It had been ten young men with a gun. The Varangians had disarmed the guys, but had not killed them.
“Because you're still that young!”, Frank had told them and had given them a flyer of the freedom movement. “Join us! You are Russians and all Russians should help Artur Tschistokjow!”
Ultimately, the trucks had driven on to the next town. This giant country seemed to have no borders and appeared endless, above all the rural areas. Nevertheless, it was important to show colors here, because Tschistokjow had a lot of sympathies in this region.
Apart from that, the ride through the rural areas was not very spectacular. The collectivists had established their rule primarily in the bigger cities and so it should remain at first.
On the 28th of November, around noon, Frank and his men came to Sandovo, a sleepy little town west of Rybinsk. The soldiers were hungry and stopped at the village square. Between the run-down houses they could eventually make out a little shop. General Kohlhaas straightened up and said: “We are going to eat something! Tonight, we`ll stay in that dump!”
His Belarusian soldiers muttered their consent and jumped from the loading areas of the transport vehicles. The village looked almost abandoned, only the shrill screech of some children could be heard somewhere between the houses. At the end of the square was a small church, it was astonishingly similar to the church of Ivas.
Soon dusk would fall and the Varangians had to look for an accommodation. Finally, the found several old, empty barns outside the village. They parked the trucks in front of them and went to sleep after a meager supper.
Frank was totally exhausted and curled up in his sleeping bag like a tired cat. Musty straw was tickling his scalp, but he had meanwhile become accustomed to all kinds of inconveniences. Around him, the soldiers started to snore, while a few men kept guard outside the barns.
“Good night, sweetheart!”, he whispered, looking at Julia`s photo on the display of his DC-Stick. Shortly thereafter, he fell asleep - to be brutally torn out of his dreams in the early morning hours.
Someone was screaming and Frank heard a shot. Only a few seconds later, a swarm of bullets hit the wooden wall of the barn and a wood splinters flew around. A Varganian staggered into the room, heavily bleeding, and got a shot in the back. The man collapsed immediately, gasping quietly.
The soldiers around Frank woke up and fetched their rilfes, while Kohlhaas crawled out of his sleeping bag and crept into a corner to peek outside. One of the trucks was burning. Dozens of dark shadows could be seen in the distance and they quickly came closer to the barn.
“What's going on here?”, he shouted.
His haggard and sleepy soldiers did not know it. Meanwhile, the shadowy figures had become more numerous and were now pouring out of the nearby forest. In no time, they had surrounded the barns and yelled: “Get out! All of you!”
The Varangians hesitated for some minutes and the men outside finally answered with a volley of their machine guns. Some of Frank's men threw themselves instantly to the ground, others were hit by bullets and broke down screaming.
“Shit!”, hissed Kohlhaas, threw away his gun and came out of the barn. His men did the same and followed him without making a sound.
Cones of flashlights danced over their faces. Meanwhile, the adjoining barn had caught fire, and some coughing Varangians stumbled out of the smoke.
“Go there!”, said a sinister figure and came nearer.
Kohlhaas and his soldiers lined up in a row and recognized some of their comrades, who were already lying dead on the meadow. Again, they were hit by flashlights.
”This guy is a general! The rest are ordinary Varangians!”, shouted one of the attackers and pointed at Frank's uniform.
“All right!”, it resounded out of the darkness.
A moment later, Frank`s men were riddled with bullets, while the general was speechless with horror. With wide eyes he stared at the ground, whe
re his men were lying in pools of blood.
“Now it's over!”, it flashed through his mind, while he was seized by sheer panic.
The men of the raiding party searched the ground, looking for Varangians who were not yet dead. They killed the wounded with shots in the heads and came then back to Frank.
“Bad luck for you, my friend!”, whispered one of the guys and grinned maliciously. Then a rifle butt hit Frank`s face and the leader of the Varangian Guard lost his consciousness.
“Leading general of the Volksarmee arrested and executed!”, headlined Russia's biggest newspaper, that was meanwhile in Uljanin`s hand, on 12.01.2038.
Artur Tschistokjow, the president of Belarus and the leader of the freedom movement, held his breath and sank down on his chair.
Beside him stood Alfred Bäumer, Frank's best friend, who had yesterday returned to Minsk. Furthermore, Thorsten Wilden and some other confidants of Tschistokjow.
The color had disappeared from their faces and the horror had paralyzed their brains like a power failure. Bäumer muttered something in German, trudged to the window and wiped the tears from his eyes.
“This must not be true!”, he whispered.
Wilden said nothing and just stared at the evil-looking title of the collectivist newspaper. No one of the men was able to find the right words in this moment. Frank had fallen...
Meanwhile, two hours had passed. Artur Tschistokjow still did not want to believe that his friend and best officer was really dead. Whereas Alfred and Wilden were totally confused. They fluctuated between sadness, wrath and a deep feeling of helpnessless.
Finally, the foreign minister left the presidential palace with Bäumer and walked down the long staircase to the lower floor without saying a word.
“Frank must be replaced!”, Wilden suddenly remarked.
Alf turned his head around and answered: “What do you mean?”
“We have to replace him! The Varangian Guard needs a new leader!”
“Replace him? My best friend is not cold yet and you are talking about replacing?”, sobbed Bäumer angrily.
“It is necessary!”, returned Wilden.
“Necessary? Is that all you have to say to Frank`s death?”, yelled Alf at him.
“No! I'm sorry, my friend.”
“He was like a brother to me. How shall I go on without him? This whole shit just pisses me off, Thorsten!”, said Alfred with tears running down his cheeks that were marked with scratches and scars.
Wilden stopped and stared into space. Then he answered: “Many people say, that I`m sober and factual. I always try to see only the big things, while I ignore the small. I try not to be guided by grief and I try to keep a cool head.
But I will still have a lot of opportunities to grieve for the boy. He was my friend, my student, my best comrade, my hero. He was almost like my own son. Now he has fallen. Soldiers fall and must be replaced. I fall and must be replaced. And you and everyone else. The battle line has always to be closed, another man has always to move up, in order to replace the dead.” Wilden beheld Alf with his sad, old eyes.
“I can not remain that calm”, said Bäumer perplexedly and went out of the presidential palace. The foreign minister followed him.
”Cruel hours are waiting for me, Alf. When I am alone, then grief will find me. And if I must tell it to Julia, and she almost loses her mind with pain. Even a part of me has died, together with Frank. He was my boy!”, said the old man crying and walked away.
Alexander Merow`s “Prey World” books (Part 1-4, German version):
Available in all book stores and at Amazon!!!
Prey World I - Citizen 1-564398B-278843
The year 2028. Mankind is in the stranglehold of a worldwide surveillance state. Frank Kohlhaas, a petty citizen, lives a cheerless life, working as an agency worker in a steel plant.
One day, he gets into a conflict with the tyrannical system, because of an unfortunate accident. An automated trail convicts him to five years of imprisonment and Frank disappears in a detention centre, where he suffers under a cruel system of brainwashing and reeducation. After eight months of pain, the authorities decide to transfer him to another prison. On the way there, something unexpected happens. Suddenly everything changes and the young man finds himself caught between the fronts...
Prey World II – Rebellion Beyond
Oppression and manipulation are the order of the day in the year 2030. Only one single nation had been brave enough, to fight for its independence – Japan.
Frank Kohlhaas, Alfred Bäumer and millions of desperate people look at the Japanese president Matsumoto who has liberated his people. But the Lodge Brothers are not willing to leave the renegade nation in peace. They slander the Japanese with a big hate campaign and plan a military strike to bring the rebellious Asians to their knees.
Frank and Alfred decide to join the Japanese fight for freedom as volunteers. Soon the situation gets out of control and the fight against the New Worlder Order becomes a bloody nightmare.
Prey World III – Organized Rage
In the year 2033, the economic situation in Europe is more hopeless than ever before. The World Government still loots the nations without mercy and holds them in its iron claws.
Artur Tschistokjow, a young dissident from Belarus, takes over the leadership of the Freedom Movement of the Rus, a small group of rebels that fights against the Lodge Brothers in the underground.
While a big economic crisis starts in Belarus, the rebels form a growing revolutionary movement. Frank, Alfred and an increasing number of discontent Belarusians join Tschistokjow`s organization. They finally follow the Russian dissident to a point of no return.
Prey World V – Civil War 2038 (Coming soon!)
Prey World - Counterrevolution Page 16