by Len du Randt
‘Join me tonight as we cover the events unfolding in the Middle East. This is Connie Jacobs for GMN, live.’
- - -* * *- - -_____
Ryan looked at the base where the newcomers were sent for induction before being sent off to their respective camps. There were thousands of men, women, and children; all lining up to become heroes of the Great War.
Almost all of the people that lined up had sores and boils covering their exposed flesh, and Ryan recoiled from the rotting stench. Most of the people had scratched their sores open and had terrible scars and cuts on their faces. According to Victor, the Christians were responsible for this. Ryan wasn’t so sure anymore.
Tanks rolled by as choppers flew overhead. Many trucks loaded with people left for base camps. Nearby, one hundred thousand Imperial Soldiers stood guard. They encircled most of the camp and acted as a boundary between the new recruits and the terrorists. Ryan could hear them in the distance: chanting and shouting as they slammed their swords on their shields in a steady beat.
In the midst of all the happenings, Ryan stood there, looking around him, wondering where he was supposed to fit into the picture.
- - -* * *- - -
The hardest part wasn’t taking out the N-Force officers in Jerusalem. Neither was it getting rid of the followers of Victor. The hardest part was taking out those almost invincible Imperial Soldiers.
‘Shoot them in the legs first,’ Malcolm said. ‘Then you can take them out later.’
This appeared to work. Malcolm had figured out their one weakness. It wasn’t entirely a weakness, as it still took the same firepower that would drop an elephant bull, but it was effective enough and Malcolm figured that if the Imperial Soldiers couldn’t walk, they couldn’t attack either.
The battle lasted three days but, in the end, Malcolm and his small army had managed to take back Jerusalem.
‘Units four and seven,’ a fatigued Malcolm shouted into a radio. ‘Fortify the city!’
‘Roger that, sir,’ replied the leaders.
Malcolm needed rest, badly, but he knew that he would get none until he had restored the Temple first.
- - -* * *- - -
It was difficult for Malcolm to believe that he had lived most of his life in this city. Buildings had been blown up or vandalized, bodies littered the streets and thousands were either impaled or crucified.
‘Search the city for any remaining N-Force or Imperial Soldiers, and bounty hunters,’ Malcolm said to one of his men. ‘And dispose of them.’
The man saluted and left his side to gather a small platoon.
Shards of glass cracked beneath his feet as he entered the Temple. It had been trampled by Victor and his followers, defiled in the worst possible ways. Decaying carcasses of offered pigs littered the place, but what churned Malcolm’s stomach were the human sacrifices on the altars. The humans—mostly prostitutes—were offered to Victor, alongside pigs and snakes. The Holy of Holies had been ‘decorated’ with blood smeared pentagrams, and it appeared that the blood was mostly human.
‘Why would You allow this to happen?’ Malcolm prayed out loud. ‘Why didn’t You just strike them dead on the spot?’
The cool tingle of a gentle breeze was his only answer.
‘I will clean Your house, my Lord,’ he said as he took a plastic bag and began picking up empty beer bottles. He wanted to be personally involved in the destruction of the hologram image of Victor, as well as tearing down his many statues.
Soon, his teams would eradicate any remaining followers of Victor, and would fortify the Old City, blocking it off from the outside world. It would then become the new headquarters that would be used to lure Victor and his armies down from Megiddo. It would then only be a matter of days before the legions of Victor’s army would arrive at their front gate. And then the final battle would begin.
- - -* * *- - -
Both Trevor and Sumen were caught off guard as a nearby explosion rocked and shook the building that René used to live in. They both stared out the window and saw smoke and fire billowing from a store across the street. People ran from the store and jumped into jeeps, cheering as they sped off.
‘Bounty hunters,’ Sumen said as the scene unfolded. ‘They’re on their way here!’
‘We have to get out of here,’ Trevor said. ‘Quick!’
The two of them grabbed their bags and left through the main door. They could hear the jeeps screeching to a halt in front of the building and decided to leave through the back. Eight armed men entered the main entrance to the building, leaving four outside to guard the other exits.
‘They must have tracked the television signals or something,’ Sumen said as they left the building through the rear entrance. It would only be a matter of time before two armed men would be standing on the very spot that they were standing on now. They had to act quickly.
‘We can get over the wall,’ Trevor said.
‘And cut yourself up,’ Sumen said and pointed to the razor wire.
‘We have to get past it. We have no other choice.’
‘I have seen men try,’ Sumen said, ‘and lose limbs in the process. It cannot be done.’
‘Wait!’ Trevor said. He lowered his voice to a distressed whisper. ‘Somebody’s coming!’
‘Quick,’ Sumen said and shoved Trevor. ‘Hide behind this dumpster.’
‘No, Sumen. I—’
‘Just do it!’
Trevor hid behind the dumpster and clenched his teeth. Every breath he took exploded in his ears, and he wondered if his pursuers could hear it too. He heard a man shouting, and then a few scuffling sounds. A gunshot went off and Trevor almost gave up his position, had it not been for his paralysed legs. A few seconds later there was silence. Trevor’s heart bounced around in his throat, and his chest felt heavy. He tried to hold his breath, but couldn’t.
‘Where’s the other one,’ he heard a stern voice demand.
‘There is no one else,’ he could hear Sumen’s voice through clenched teeth.
At least he isn’t dead, Trevor thought and he allowed his muscles to relax a little.
‘Don’t lie to me,’ the stern voiced man yelled. ‘We know that he’s here somewhere.’
Trevor heard a click. ‘We know you’re here,’ the man shouted into the air. ‘Reveal yourself, and save us the trouble of searching for you.’
Trevor didn’t move a muscle. His heart would soon combust if it continued pounding so fast.
‘If you don’t show yourself by the time I count to ten,’ the man said, ‘I will shoot your friend. I will then find you, and I will kill you too; only a lot slower and a lot more painful.’
Jesus, Trevor’s mind screamed. Help us!
‘One,’
What must I do?
‘Two,’
Please, Lord!
‘Three,’
I’m sorry Sumen...
‘Four,’
I’m so terribly sorry. It was stupid to come here.
‘Five,’
Jesus, I beg of you!
‘Six,’
Help me just this one more time!
‘Seven,’
Please Jesus, You have helped me before!
‘Eight,’
I...I cannot do it...
‘Nine,’
I’m so sorry, Sumen. Please forgive me...
‘Ten!’
.XX.
Showdown
‘The one thing I fear the most is that I wake up one morning and find that I’m the bad guy.’
- Victor Samael Yoshe
‘Wait!’ Trevor shouted and stood up from behind the dumpster.
‘Trevor! Don’t—’
The armed bounty hunter slammed the butt of a rifle against Sumen’s head, knocking him unconscious.
‘Well, lookie here,’ the bounty hunter said as two of his armed companions rushed in and grabbed Trevor by his arms. ‘If it ain’t the Good Samaritan.’
‘You promised to spare his life,’ Trevor said, no
dding to where Sumen was lying.
‘No, I didn’t,’ the bounty hunter said and lit a cigarette. ‘I merely said that I would kill him if you didn’t give yourself up. I never said anything about what I would do if you did.’
Trevor realized that the man was right. His heart beat heavily in his chest. ‘Fine,’ he finally said. ‘Kill me then, but let him go.’
The bounty hunter laughed and his companions joined him in laughter. ‘Kill you?’ he asked as he chuckled. ‘No, my friend. Such luck you do not have. N-Force pays substantially less for the dead ones.’
‘How much money do they place on the souls of men these days?’ Trevor asked.
‘We don’t trade for money,’ the bounty hunter said. ‘We barter for food and water.’ He raised his rifle and poked it into Trevor’s chest. ‘Now please,’ he said. ‘Get in the jeep.’
- - -* * *- - -
The concentration camp wasn’t very far. There were so many of them now, filled to the brim with people who only had two options: to take the Shield, or be tortured until you do.
Severed heads dangling from the hair bobbed in the wind like giant wind chimes and decorated the entrance to what had once been a school. A sense of familiarity struck him as they led Trevor down a long hallway and locked him in a small room. Trevor felt uneasy. The floor was coated in blood, and his stomach contracted when he saw human fingers piled in one corner.
‘Trevor Elliot,’ a man said as he entered the room. He carried a thick pile of papers and was reading his name off the front page.
Trevor didn’t answer.
‘That is your name,’ the man asked. ‘Right?’
‘I want a lawyer.’
The man laughed. ‘Lawyer, Mister Elliot?’ He slammed the file down on the table in front of Trevor. ‘No lawyers are assigned to enemies of the Empire.’
‘I have rights...’
‘No, Mister Elliot. A citizen of the Empire has rights. A dog...has rights. You? You have no rights.’
Trevor realized that he had reached the end of the race. There was no way that he was going to take the Shield, and there was no way that they would allow him to live unless he did so.
‘Why are you not bearing the Shield?’ the man interrogated ‘Are you a Christian terrorist?’
‘Yes.’
The truthful boldness of Trevor’s answer caught the man off guard. He had expected some longwinded explanation on how Trevor had missed the deadline because he was at a funeral in Alaska, and that he had so many business meetings that he just couldn’t make the time to get himself a Shield. He looked at Trevor with a dumbstruck expression. ‘You...are...?’
‘Yes.’
The man tapped his pen on Trevor’s file. He didn’t say anything. He just tapped. Finally, he stood up, walked out of the room, and slammed the door shut behind him.
- - -* * *- - -
The next few weeks were Hell for Trevor and Sumen. The N-Force guards tortured both of them repeatedly for hours at a time, several times a day. They were whipped, punched, electrocuted, beaten with sticks, and then whipped some more.
Trevor had four of his ribs cracked, his nose broken, and both his shoulders were dislocated. Sumen’s toe nails were ripped out one-by-one and, after two days without sleep, was subjected to another all-night session where they applied the famous Chinese Water Torture technique on him.
‘Renounce your Christ or die!’ the torturer would scream in Trevor’s ears as he whipped him again and again. Trevor felt as if he would pass out and never awaken again. But just as he was on the welcome brink of passing out, they would stop and let him go. He would usually be given a day to recover before the relentless torture would start all over again.
‘Accept the Shield and repent to our Lord and Sovereign Emperor, and you shall receive life in full.’
More promises were made as rocks pelted Trevor’s naked body from every direction.
Eventually, Trevor did pass out.
- - -* * *- - -
‘I can’t take it anymore,’ Sumen said. Tears streamed down his face and he had to wait a moment before he could continue. ‘If they beat me one more time...I’ll die...’
To die is gain, Trevor thought, but he didn’t want to speak. His mouth was badly swollen, and every word he uttered was sheer pain.
Sumen stared into the distance where a few prisoners were being shot. He remained quiet as he drew patterns in the sand with a stick. Finally he spoke again. ‘They’ve cut me a deal...’
‘What?’ Trevor said, and then flinched. He opened his mouth slightly, and then carefully breathed out his question. ‘A deal?’
‘Yeah,’ Sumen said and snapped the stick. ‘They promised me that if I accept the Shield, I would be free to go. They will also give me all the food and water that I would ever need.’
‘It’s a lie,’ Trevor said after some careful thought. ‘I don’t think that Victor and his henchmen are capable of speaking the truth.’
‘They only torture us for a month before they accept that we won’t convert. After that, we will be skinned alive and thrown into the lion’s den,’ Sumen said. ‘If I take the Shield and they lied, at least the death will be painless and quick.’
‘But the consequence would be eternal.’
More shots in the background made Sumen flinch.
‘What are you going to do?’ Trevor asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Sumen answered. ‘I really want to believe you with all this end-of-the-world stuff, but if you really think about it, it just doesn’t make any sense.’
‘It doesn’t?’
Sumen shook his head. ‘You said that my friends and family prayed for my salvation, and that’s why I still don’t have the Shield, right?’
Trevor nodded.
‘I wanted to believe that to be true, Trevor. I really did. The thing is...the more I think about it, the crazier it sounds. I have made up my mind...I’m going to get the Shield.’
‘No,’ Trevor said. Pain shot through his body. ‘It’s a mistake.’
Sumen stood up. ‘No,’ he said, ‘going through this torture and living in constant fear was my only mistake. So long, Trevor. I hope your God has mercy on me.’
Trevor didn’t say anything as Sumen limped towards the N-Force offices. Words struggled to form complete sentences in his mind and he could only look on helplessly as Sumen knocked on the office door. He was about to hand over his soul to Victor, and there was nothing that he could do about it. He felt useless and powerless. Please Lord, he pleaded. Make him turn around, please! Make him change his mind!
Tears stung Trevor’s cheeks as the door to the offices closed behind Sumen.
- - -* * *- - -
‘The Old City has been fortified and is secure, sir!’
‘Splendid,’ Malcolm said. ‘Line the walls with as many speakers as you can find and report back to me once it has been done.’
‘Affirmative, sir!’ the scout said and saluted.
Malcolm dismissed him with a salute and used his long-range radio to contact Timothy.
‘Alpha One,’ Timothy’s voice crackled from the speaker.
‘We’re good to go,’ Malcolm said. ‘Repeat: good to go.’
‘Acknowledged,’ Timothy said.
It has begun, Malcolm thought as he looked at a group of people tearing down another statue of Victor.
- - -* * *- - -
Except for the cool desert night breeze, there wasn’t a sound at Base Camp Six. The N-Force patrol officer scanned the bunkers to ensure that everyone was sleeping and, once satisfied that they were, he took out a small vial filled with strong alcohol. He unscrewed the cap, and then placed the opening of the vial to his lips.
A sudden explosion made him jerk and the bottle slipped from his fingers and smashed on the ground. Another explosion rocked nearby and soon many confused and half asleep people were gathering to see what the commotion was all about.
‘Get back inside!’ The officer commanded.
No one
paid any attention to him.
‘I said, get back inside or...’
The blaring sound of horns and trumpets made him stop in midsentence. In the blackness of the night, he could see an even darker patch descending from the mountains. He could hear the shouting of men, and soon the people around him all ran around in confusion. They shot at one another, thinking that the next person was one of the attackers.
The whole attack lasted only five minutes and, after that, the eerie silence returned as everyone lay lifeless on the ground.
- - -* * *- - -
‘Bravo One, this is Alpha One. Come in.’
‘This is Bravo One,’ Malcolm said. ‘Proceed.’
‘Bravo-Charlie-Six is down. Repeat: Bravo-Charlie-Six is down.’
‘Great news, Alpha One. Return to base.’
‘Roger that,’ Timothy confirmed. ‘Alpha One, out.’
Malcolm listened to the static on the radio. An important Base Camp of the enemy had been destroyed. It was a small base, but a vital artery in Victor’s communication infrastructure. Over the next few weeks, many more encampments would be targeted and destroyed.
‘Malcolm?’ A female voice crackled through the static. ‘Is that you?’
Malcolm stared at the radio in disbelief. ‘Mary?’
‘Malcolm...bzzzt...’
‘Mary!’ Malcolm shouted frantically into the radio. ‘You’re breaking up. Please repeat.’
‘We’re okay...bzzzt...moved...bzzzt...explosion.’
‘I cannot hear you,’ Malcolm shouted. ‘Where are you now?’