by Jim Roberts
And Prometheus would lead the charge.
Chapter 14
A Man of the People
Downtown District, Sadoma, Zimbala, November 24th
The past night had been one of the longest in Brick's life. The two Peacemakers, along with the ragtag group of URAF rebels had navigated block after block through the burned out downtown district, trying to reach Hatfield.
Jacob had told Brick that the main mode of transportation for the rebel forces was through the aqueducts of the city; an extensive system of sewers, pipes and causeways that linked the old but vast underground of the city together. Olympus had targeted these areas recently, stationing drones and squads of Centurions to guard them. Still, there were too many for the PMC to guard them all. As the morning sun began to lift into the sky, the group had taken refuge into one of these unpatrolled causeways and moved through the substrata of the city on their way towards the south.
The troop said little as it traveled, not wishing to draw drone attention to their presence. As the day continued, they heard the sounds of patroling Hyperion aircraft making their way through the burned out streets, sensors surely searching for any signs of life. Jacob had whispered to Brick that the Hyperion patrols had, so far, been limited to the Downtown district. Olympus either didn't have enough firepower to attempt an attack on Hatfield, or they just weren't interested in it, at this time. So as they drew closer and closer to the south, the sound of the drones grew more and more distant, to the group's almost immeasurable relief.
Krieger had been unable to shake the mutt they had picked up in the outlet mall. The big dog had followed the Russian the entire night, ignoring all attempts to make him leave. After a while, it just made more sense to let the dog come along. It was remarkably quiet; making no noise at all during the trek south.
"I think we should give dog name." Krieger had said as they moved along one of the many aqueducts. "How bout...Boris? Or Mack?"
"How about we don't name every goddamn animal that tags along with us." Brick had hissed, still annoyed at the Russian for allowing the dog to follow.
Krieger had brushed it off. "I have it!" He said, pointing at the animal as it looked at him curiously. "Your name is...Bowser! Good name! Heard it from Yune's video games. You like?"
Brick rolled his eyes as they continued their march.
IT WAS after midday by the time they reached the outskirts of Hatfield. Leaving the aqueduct and climbing up to street level, the group crouched against an old pharmacy building and observed the area.
Jacob told Brick the history of the district as they walked. Hatfield was basically a shantytown, and one of the largest of its kind in the world. During the early days of the regime, when Musabe was siphoning the wealth away from the lower class, many of the poorest people in the city had moved to the south, far removed from the richer areas in the north. Over the years, a sort of mini-city had grown in the district, economically separated from the north by the central hub of downtown.
Within this mini-city, a new way of existence began to form. The people, quite aware that the useless currency of their own country would get them nothing, began to switch to a barter economy; trading for all manner of goods and services. The mini-city became self reliant, depending on little help from the rich, corrupt inhabitants of the north. The irony of the geographic position of the two areas was not lost on the United Nations, who pointed to the disparity of the city, as a perfect example of the endemic problem in Africa between the rich and poor.
Before the civil war had broken out, Hatfield was deemed by the President as unworthy to be part of the city. A fifteen-foot chain link fence was erected along its border for nearly three kilometers, with multiple checkpoints−now abandoned−to control population flow into the downtown. From where the group waited, they could see one of these abandoned checkpoints, about four-hundred feet from their secluded position. Past the checkpoint, they could see no signs of life in their field of view.
"So mate," Brick asked Jacob as they crouched amidst the rubble of the pharmacy building, "Where do we go now."
Jacob looked around and put his hand to his mouth. He made a loud whistle noise through his teeth. A moment later, a returning noise was sent from an indiscernible position. Jacob nodded to Brick. "Follow me, suh."
The group began running towards the entrance. As they did, a sound above them pulled their gazes away from the safety of the south district.
"Chimera drone!" Jacob shouted.
"Ah hell, not again!" Brick shouted, trying to see the flying Olympus war machine. After a few seconds of looking, he spotted the drone, flying behind an office building. It rocketed towards them, weapons extended. Brick raised his FAL and fired, running backwards as quick as he could manage safely. Krieger opened up beside him, unloading the M60E3 machinegun for all it was worth. The report of the gunfire reverberated loudly through the city blocks.
"Don't worry about the drone!" Jacob shouted above the din, "Just run!"
The two Peacemakers heeded the advice and turned towards the entrance to the city, running as fast as they could.
Brick could feel the drone's weapons targeting them...
Just ahead of Brick, a large puff of smoke burst up from a small tower stationed to the side of the entranceway. In the span of one second, a rocket hurtled towards the drone and impacted with it, blowing it out of the air in a green and orange fireball.
As the drone crashed to the earth, the rebels cheered. Brick looked around, confused.
"Whatn' hell was that?"
"That," Jacob replied, "was our early warnin' system. The drones, they sometimes get too close. So we blow them out of air with Stinger missiles, given by supporters in South Africa."
Krieger scratched his head, looking at the burning ruins. "Good shooting! Couldn't do better myself."
Bowser licked his chops, sitting on his haunches next to his new master. Jacob shouldered the AK he was using and motioned everyone forward.
"Come on, we must take you to my father now."
The group passed into Hatfield, where finally Brick felt like he could let out the breath of air he had been holding for the past twelve hours.
Hatfield District, Sadoma, Zimbala
The barren, nearly empty entrance to Hatfield was a complete facade. After walking a few hundred feet into the shantytown, a different world opened up to Brick and his Russian companion. During their flight over the city at night time, neither man had had a decent view of the rebel district. As they stood overlooking the true entrance of Hatfield, they were greeted with a sight neither man would ever forget. For as far as they could see, a colossal collection of tin roofed shanties and patched huts spread out before them. The streets, lined with dusty cactuses that resembled pipe organs. The streets were filthy, absolutely covered in every manner of garbage and refuse one could imagine.
And then, of course, there were the people.
Brick Reynolds had visited some of the largest, most populated cities on the earth, but this place felt like no other. He had never seen so many people, cramped together in one location in his life. Jacob lead the way through the streets. He was obviously known by most of the people here, who made way for him and his group of rebels as best as they could. Krieger and Brick, due to their American equipment, received a few odd looks from the masses. The streets teemed with every manner of gag-inducing smell possible. The two Peacemakers tried not to imagine what the smells were from.
"Mater Dei, I have never seen so many people." Krieger said to Jacob as they walked. "Why do you all stay?"
"Many have left, go to farmlands or South Africa. But borders begin to close. Other countries not interested in helping anymore." Jacob led them assuredly through the crowd.
Several young children tried to grab Bowser as the dog padded along behind Krieger. The Russian leapt to his aid, startling the kids before they could kidnap his animal.
"Stay with me, dah?" Krieger said, giving the dog a pat.
Several techni
cal's drove past, forcing the sea of people to part as if to Moses. The old battered trucks were modified to carry large .50 calibre machineguns mounted on the back. Hardened rebels eyed the Peacemakers, as they drove on to fight a seemingly endless war.
After wading through the sea of people, they approached a small building that stood taller than the others surrounding it; one of the few that was actually made out of concrete and plaster, not tin and metal.
"Jacob!"
A voice in front of them shouted over the cacophony of crowd noise. Brick was mobbed by a large throng of people, forcing him to push through to stand by Jacob.
A woman in her early thirties came running from the front door of the plaster building. Contrasting heavily with the mob of Africans, she was a rather pale white, with high cheekbones and strawberry-blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail under a tan ball cap. Her clothes were heavily worn, which basically consisted of a pair of tan slacks and a white T-shirt. She ran through the crowd until she was in front of Jacob, where she threw her arms around him in a hug. Brick and Krieger looked at each other.
"It is good to see you Sarah." Jacob said, returning the embrace. "How is my father?"
She let him go, her happy mood quickly turning somber. "He's...he's not doing well. He's been asking for you."
Jacob nodded soberly. "I will see him in a moment." He gestured to Krieger and Brick, standing behind him looking rather perplexed. "There is good news. The men from the CIA have arrived."
A quizzical look flashed across Sarah's face. "Just two? Where is the rest of the team?"
Brick stepped forward, offering his hand, "Sergeant Alistair Reynolds, Peacemaker Unit. You can call me Brick, everyone does."
She shook his hand, her face still confused at the change in plans.
"This is−" Brick half turned to introduce his comrade.
The tall Russian nodded to the reporter. "Call me Krieger, miss. Only name I have. This is Bowser, my new good friend." He motioned to the big dog sitting patiently at his feet. The dog opened his jaws wide and yawned.
"I don't understand," Sarah said, her mind trying to make sense of things, "The Colonel promised his unit would be here in force. Why are there only two of you?"
"With respect ma'am, perhaps we should speak off the streets?" Brick was uncomfortable being in such an open place for too long, even if these people were supposedly their allies.
"Sure." Sarah said, turning on her heel and heading back towards the concrete building. Jacob quickly spoke to the other rebels in the regional Shona dialect. They nodded in agreement at his orders and quickly dispersed into the crowd. Jacob beckoned Brick and Krieger into the house.
A guard at the front spoke roughly to the two Peacemakers. "Leave weapons here."
Reluctantly, the two men shed their rifles for the guardsmen, and handed over their pistols and knives as well.
Thoroughly unarmed, they all entered the house together.
THE INTERIOR of the building was not much of an improvement from the outside. What once must have been a rather plain domicile had now been turned into a hub area for part of the rebel leadership. URAF rebels swarmed around the first floor: sending messages, working jury-rigged CommStations and performing other odd jobs to aid the resistance against Musabe. A small flight of stairs lead up to the second floor.
Sarah lead Brick and Krieger to a relatively clear area of the command post to speak. Jacob touched her arm quickly before saying, "I must see my father."
Sarah nodded as Jacob left them to go to the second floor.
"He is good kid," Krieger said, watching as Jacob disappeared up the stairs, "Strong soldier." Bowser sat down for a rest in the corner, wanting to get away from the pandemonium of the HQ.
"He is so much like his father." Sarah said, wistfully. "The URAF would have been lost without Jacob and his father, Donald."
Brick was all business, "The second team will be here tomorrow, Miss Anders. We need to get some things straight before we proceed."
"Of course. What do you need to know?"
"Let's start with how you came to be staying with the rebel leader in an African civil war."
Sarah removed her ball cap and pulled the barrette out of her pony tail. Her strawberry hair spilled around her shoulders as she stretched her tired neck muscles.
"Well, I've been in Zimbala for the last six months. At first it was for a ground-zero eye view of the growing conflict. I've seen the government forces do everything they can to break the rebel population. Musabe is an autocrat and a fool. They have committed...unspeakable things to his people, all in the name of tyranny."
Brick observed the young woman as she talked. According to the Colonel's briefing, this woman had seen the worst of the third world in her time with Al-Jazeera. She'd reported on Ethiopia, Congo and even served as a correspondent during the Syrian Civil War. Her large green eyes, while wide and beautiful, were also tinged with a great sadness, probably from years of witnessing countless horrors and not being able to do anything about them but report them for the evening news. She would then have to pray her message had gotten to someone who didn't immediately change the channel to the Kardashians.
Sarah took a breath, moving on from unpleasant thoughts, "My news crew was attacked back in June. It was getting too dangerous to stay in the country, so they voted to leave. I stayed behind. It wasn't long after that I met Donald and his son."
"So you join rebels?" Krieger asked.
"Donald is a strong leader. He rallied his people against Musabe when no one else dared. He saw his wife killed and butchered by an ANDU death squad. He dedicated himself to the cause of freeing Zimbala for its people. I've never known anyone like him. He offered me a place to stay, to help get me knowledge on both Olympus and Musabe. But..."
Her voice broke. She cleared it quickly and continued, "...two days ago, he was caught in a mortar blast. The ANDU soldiers in the east district sometimes shell Hatfield from a distance, just to keep us on our toes; never resting, always on alert. Now, Donald Muzenda is upstairs, dying."
"So it was he that gave you this information you're supposed to be giving to the Colonel?" Brick asked, finally starting to grasp the full picture.
"Not quite. I wasn't here just to report on the status of the civil war." Sarah folded her arms, a shadow moving across her face. "I was working with an informant who gave me inside details about Olympus's operations. I had covered Olympus in the past during their operations in Chad and the Congo. Small dealings they had there, for the most part. David−" Sarah said the name with a hint of pain. "−helped get me information on Olympus's early operations in this country. I thought I had stumbled on a breaking story."
"Who was this David?" Brick asked, inquisitively.
"A...friend. An American intelligence soldier who worked all over Africa. He had knowledge of Olympus no one had ever known existed. He offered to help get me everything he had. We had only really begun working before..."
Sarah stopped, rubbing her arms as if suddenly cold.
"Before what, Miss Anders?" Brick asked, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized her.
"David vanished, a month ago. I haven't seen him since."
"Mmm...what is information he gave you?" Krieger asked.
Sarah straightened up, "That's something I can only give to your Colonel. That was the deal."
Brick sighed, "Come on Miss Anders, we can only help you if you're straight with us."
"I am the best chance these people have right now for some sort of international intervention. I have enough information to fuck Olympus and its bottom dollar for the next ten years. I have to get to South Africa, otherwise everything Donald and I have done will be for nothing."
"These people seem to trust you." Brick remarked, looking around the HQ. "I'm surprised you're in such a hurry to leave."
The reporter folded her arms, a cross look entering her eyes, "I've done all I can here. The best way I can help the rebels is to get back and help tell what Olympus h
as done here. It makes me sick, but the only way the international community will lend any kind of ear to their plight will be if it is from the mouth of−" she seemed to choke on the words, "−a white person. If my reporting can at least help put pressure on the UN, maybe this war can be stopped."
Brick had to admire the reporter's guile, but her naiveté was disheartening. Brick knew it wouldn't do any good. The only chance these people had was to get rid of Musabe. Once Joe arrived and they took her to see the Colonel, the Peacemakers would deal with that scumbag once and for all.
"You got guff, I'll admit it. The second unit will arrive in−" Brick checked his watch, "−thirty-three hours from now. Once they arrive, we'll evac you to South Africa, where the Colonel wil be waiting. Is that satisfactory, luv?"
Sarah nodded, her eyes softening, "Yes Sergeant. Thank you." The sight of Jacob walking down the staircase pulled her away from the two Peacemakers. She excused herself for a moment to talk to the resistance commander.
"Strong lady." Krieger said, leaning down to scratch Bowser's ears. "I like her. Sort of reminds me of Joe, for some reason."
Brick nodded, "She's a tough one, rightly so. She's fighting an uphill battle here."
"It will all probably be for nothing, you know." Krieger said, his voice grim.
"Maybe, but if we can help some good come out of all this, so be it."
From the stairway, Jacob and Sarah spoke for a few moments. Sarah's shoulders quivered as the rebel leader spoke. She nodded then turned back to walk to the two Peacemakers. Her eyes were holding back tears.
"Donald Muzenda is...very close to death."
"We're sorry." Brick said, his deep voice uncharacteristically sympathetic.
"He asked to see you."
Brick didn't understand, "What? Why us? He doesn't even know us."