Brigends (The Final War Series Book 1) (12 page)

“Millions perished. A sovereign country — a people — a way of life forever wiped from the face of the Earth.”

On the screens, international protests and rioting mobs burning American flags played out.

“From the tragedy arose an outcry of unified voices declaring, America would not escape her crimes.”

Brave Alliance troopers stormed the Oval Office and arrested Haden. Some in the crowd cheered during the scene. The questionable footage continued with the arrest of American and ally soldiers. The heroic image of General Serov staring off frame materialized as the shackled war criminals were hauled away in the flatbeds of ground-trucks.

“The Alliance institutes transitional law. Under General Order Seven of the Paris Convention, all Coalition leaders and combatants were designated war criminals. The United States was dissolved and an interim government formed. Those who committed evil were punished.”

Hoots rolled through the crowd at the Plaza. The brigends amongst them felt vulnerable.

The holo-cast continued with the processing of war criminals by French bureaucrats. The veterans, with their heads hanging low, endured the laser-branding of brigend marks on their necks.

“On this day, we celebrate the end of tyranny and the beginning of a better future for our children.”

Sunshine, a cool inviting breeze, and people celebrating with songs and dances finished on the screen.

Max fiddled with his plate, oblivious to Zoe’s upsetting anamnesis, which was noticeable to anyone who cared to see. She could still smell the laser burning the mark into her flesh.

Streaming vid-feeds from the Zolarian Spire appeared. The crowd went into a frenzy when President Orock’s face dominated every viewer. Surrounding him were dozens of politicians and world dignitaries. The mob at the Plaza fell silent, leaving only the broadcast of partiers at the Spire chanting his name. The American statesman milked the admiration before raising his hands to quell the praises.

“My fellow citizens of the world, today marks the official end of the failed experiment known as America.”

The crowds erupted in thunderous applause. Orock waved again to settle the masses.

“We are no longer the warmongering, oppressive hooligans holding the world in darkness. This is our time to step forward, not back. Let us from this point on strive to make amends for our past wrongs and show we are truly citizens of this world.”

The visiting dignitaries raised their fists and punched the air with primordial fervor. The mobs mimicked their example. Orock, the political master, waved to people below and flashed his million euro-marks teeth. When he was ready, he regained their attention.

“The road getting here has been tough. As Americans, we lacked the civility necessary to bring real change to a morally corrupt system. For generations, our arrogance enslaved the natures of our better angels. Through greed, we stole from the weak. Through hatred, we diminished individuality. Well, no longer I say!”

The crowds applauded.

He spoke above the noise. “I am eternally grateful for the help the Global Alliance has provided us during these past two decades of uncertainty. Their drive, their determination is the reason why we stand here today. They are the reason we celebrate our first steps toward a better world!”

The crowds chanted
Orock
—
Orock
—
Orock
!

The Plaza trembled from something other than the jubilation. The brigends looked to the sky and were overcome by the sight of three Alliance battle cruisers taxing between the towers. Each warship was top of the line, immaculate and menacing.

The largest of the three, the Leviathan, ruled the red sunset. By the elongated shape of its ghost-white hull and its formidable weapons batteries, there was no denying it was Serov's flagship.

The murdering coward is here, Emil said to himself.

His anger threatened to explode. For the first time in years, his reviled enemy was within reach of his blood-lust. Whether by Zolarian trickery or God’s will, there was a purpose to both men being in the same place at the same time. Emil affirmed a vow —
I will end this
.

He tugged Max’s arm. “We have to keep moving while everyone is distracted. Are you sure you can find Nerees?”

“Yeah. It’s just a walk in the sky, grandpa. Nerees was last tagged at Jaures Tower.”

“Then you have point, kid.”

The Hi-risers celebrated their peace and harmony, ignoring the outlaws on a mission of obvious mischief.

The princess in the tower

Their uneventful trip from the Plaza was brief. Emil used the lull to study the architecture. He noted, for being three hundred meters above the ground, amazingly there wasn’t a strong air current blowing across the walkways. He reasoned it had something to do with the overall layout. The towers weren’t randomly floating, but were deliberately distributed in a set order to disrupt high winds. How the levitating structures resisted budging from their invisible anchors was beyond his understanding.

They arrived at Jaures Tower as the last of dusk-light painted the clouds in somber shades of grayish orange. The crescent bridge connecting the main thoroughfare to the tower isolated Jaures from the district, giving the building an impressive veneer in comparison to the sky.

Max craned his neck to take in its enormity. “Wow. That’s one ugly piece of work.”

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Zoe reminded him.

He keyed the tel-link. “Dinx, sweep the place.”

His timid friend replied, “This is going to be easy. Scans show no one home except for the target. Oh, by the way, since I have your attention, I want to renegotiate my cut of the pay.”

“Standby... getting... interference...” Max tapped his link, ending the bargaining. “Alright, we’re good to go.”

There was no one to challenge them when they entered the lobby. As they proceeded to the lift-shafts, their footsteps echoed. Newborn moonlight shining through the encompassing windows left their shadows distorted on the polished floor.

Activated by the intrusion, a holographic ghost greeted them. “I welcome you to Jaures Industries, a proud new subsidiary of Zolaris, home of innovations and progression,” said the French avatar. “I regret to inform you our offices are closed for the celebration and ask that you return at a later time.
Merci, et bonne journée
.”

Max reacted on the fly, “Uh yeah, we’re here to fix the ventilation ducts on thirty.”

“There is no scheduled maintenance for that level. I must insist you exit and return at a later time.
Merci, et bonne journée
.”

He tried to sidestep it, but the hologram refocused directly in his path, this time with its polite demeanor replaced with one of continental rudeness. “I see you are a stupid American and unable to comprehend simple directions. Leave at once!
Stupide morceau de merde
!”

“Max?” Zoe shifted into a defensive stance. How she would fight a hologram, she wasn’t sure.

“Dinx?” Max tapped his tel-link repeatedly.

“What?” asked the voice in the earpiece.

“We got a problem here.”

Seconds ticked by. “Greeter hologram, huh? Don’t worry. I got this.”

“I will notify security!” The beam of light flickered and disappeared. A second later, it reformed with its original pleasant temperament. “Welcome my friends. How may I assist you today?”

Emil asked, “Where is Markus Nerees?”

“He is on the top floor. Use the lift and it will take you there.” One of the lift-cars opened. “
Merci, et bonne journée
.”

They boarded the pod while the creepy ghost waved goodbye.

Zoe nudged her partner, “Get your friend to scope ahead. Look for anything that might be a problem.”

“Dinx, clear the top floor.” He waited for the report. “He says there’s something up there pulling a crap-load of power, but it doesn’t show up on the grid or in the schematics. It’s a dead zone.”

“Stay alert,” Emil warned.

“So far this has been easy,” Adi remarked.

“Too easy,” Zoe countered.

“Not really,” Max added. “Dinx was one of the outsourced workers hired by Jaures to recode the grids a few years ago. He installed some backdoors and crazy hidden stuff in the code. That’s how we got past the doorman.”

“It’s a real key to the city,” she joked.

“Yeah, but the bypass won’t last forever. Eventually the system will reboot.”

“Then let’s get this done and get out.” She cocked her gun.

The car chimed. The doors opened and the three soldiers got off with weapons raised and ready. Max walked out with his hands in his pockets, shaking his head in disbelief.

The floor’s layout was similar to the lobby, antiseptic and cold. The spacious passage curved along an inner concave wall. Large vaulted windows provided a clear vista of the starry night. While the others went in search of potential dangers, Max ambled to the portals and looked out on the remarkable spectacle. Clouds drifted on a void beneath the window. Sprinkled across were metal peaks poking through the white blanket. He was an ancient god from a storybook, gazing down from a celestial throne at the mortal realm of man.

The brigends had disappeared around the bend, leaving him alone with the neighboring moon to watch over him. The mood of tranquility eased his prevailing anxiety. He wanted it to last, but he worried about his cohorts causing trouble without his guidance. He moved from the glass. “Let’s find this Neeres guy and get the hell out of here.”

Strolling along the track, he maneuvered close to the inner wall. Stretching out his arm, he ran his fingertips over its cool sheen. He soon found the others pressed against the barrier as if trying to hide from someone. He was about to ask what’s going on when Zoe signaled for him to hide. He quickly flattened his backside against the wall next to Adi.

Zoe peered and ducked her head back. She turned and raised a hold sign to Emil. He wasn’t as cautious as he looked around the curve, much to her irritation.

Not far from them, a short elderly man stood in front of a vault door. With no protrusions or visible control-pad, it seemed to lack any conceivable access. The man in the tailored suit raised his hand in a sweeping motion. The door unsealed and rolled outward, saturating the vicinity in a brilliant white light. He crossed the doorsill.

The team waited. Minutes passed by. Emil moved from the spot. Whomever or whatever was behind this mystery had brought him here for a reason. Zoe held his forearm, breaking confusion’s hold on him.

He gently removed her hand and stepped toward the orifice. “I’ll go alone.”

“Guess again.”

He curled his upper-lip and implied his unwilling approval. As a group, they approached the vault and passed through the unassuming opening.

A few meters inside the dead zone, Max’s tel-link lost the connection. Tapping it didn’t help, so he removed the useless device and stowed it in his pocket. As his often underappreciated asset, Dinx was the ever pestering voice of fearful rationale in his ear, working to keep him grounded. He didn’t always listen, but it was comforting to have him there. Right now, Max needed his buddy more than ever.

Except for the entrance, the interior had no features by which to judge their bearings. How deep it went, they couldn’t guess. It would be easy to lose their bearings, so they huddled close.

The daydream became stranger the farther they explored. From nothingness, hundreds of invisible bookshelves formed. Every shelf contained innumerable volumes of digitalized books.

Out of curiosity, Adi tapped the slender spine of the closest copy and a flat transparent readout appeared with text sprawled on nonexistent pages. Another tap changed the image into a vaporous casting of Shakespeare. The Bard covered its chest and recited
Sonnet 18
. Everything it said became a reality behind it. Upon completing the performance, it bowed, and morphed back into sparkling pages. Another tap returned the volume to its home on the imaginary shelf.

Farther inside, holographic humanoids chatted with one another as they promenaded past the real humans. Two male holograms in early twentieth century dapper attire tipped their hats to Adi. She laughed and passed her hand through their projections. One of the holo-men took offense and rapped her knuckles, causing a mild shock. She hadn’t expected the interaction and jerked away as if stabbed by a knife.

“No one touch anything,” Emil suggested. “Who knows what could happen.”

At the core of the chamber, they found an actual spherical bed. Asleep on the cushion was a living girl, not much younger than Max. Her long shimmering hair draped her porcelain beauty and the pristine ruffles of her gown.

Zoe and Max were speechless. The General looked on the girl, sad but elated.

“What is this?” Zoe demanded.

He circled the bed, afraid to wake the child. Adi grabbed his arm. He looked at his first officer. A tear beaded in the corner of one eye.

“This is my mission,” he explained, unconvinced of his virtue.

Adi loosened her grip and something more considerable with the release.

“You said nothing about kidnapping,” Chacon countered.

“Kidnapping? I didn’t sign up for this,” Max protested.

“We’re going — now.” She yanked Max to her.

They turned to leave, but the elderly man blocked their way; his appearance shocking them both. On his pale, slender face was a horrified countenance.

“How did you get in here?” His French accent thickened with excitement. Seeing Pavel, his complexion lost what little pigment it had. “How — how did you know where to find her?”

Emil dug a wadded cloth from his pocket. Opening the folds, he exposed the crimson ora and held it up.

Something hidden within Adi’s brain shifted. No one noticed the hiccup in her awareness.

The little man recoiled. “Where did you get that?”

Emil rushed in and seized him by the neck. “
Nenorocitule
!”

“Do you know what you have done, being here,” Markus Nerees argued as the hand tightened around his throat.

Zoe shoved Max. “Go outside!”

Frozen by panic, he couldn’t move.

Adi pulled him. “Max, come with me,” she said with her eyes locked on the crystal.

“What have you done to her?” Emil yelled. “You promised to keep her safe.”

“I have... for all these years. Now, because of
you
, she is in danger.”

“Liar. What did you do to her?”

Zoe pried him from Nerees’s throat and pushed the two men apart. “Stop it!”

“Emil, you must understand why. The only way to keep her safe was to hide her from the world, from their watchful eyes. They have eyes everywhere. You know this.”

The General wrapped the crystal in the cloth and stuffed it in his pocket. Fearing he would strike again, Zoe acted as a buffer.

“Where did you get that
thing
,” she asked, knowing what it was.

He steadied himself on his knees to get relief from the rage overtaking him. “Wake her up,” he begged more than he demanded.

“If I do, your very presence will only confuse her.”

“Wake her up!”

Markus only obeyed out of fright for what the mad Romanian would do if he refused. He went to the bed and sat beside the girl. Removing a pen-like object from his vest, he held it over her face. With a click, it emitted a gentle hum. She stirred and slowly woke.

“Papa,” she smiled.

“Marta,
mon tresor
.”

Marta, Emil repeated in his mind. That’s her name.

Discovering the strangers were physical and not one of her holographic illusions, she shot up. “Who are they, Papa?”

“Be calm, child. This man, his name is Emil. He is an old associate of mine.”

She looked at Emil as if uncertain of his true character.

He stared at her with shame. “You look like your mother.”

“My mother? Papa, what is he saying?”

“Emil, I beg you not to do this. She is
my
child. I keep her safe. I did just as you and Nadiya asked of me. You were to stay far away. Please, if you care about her, you will leave and never return.”

He couldn’t hear Markus’s words. At last, he had answers. When he started on this path, he had only a gut feeling to go on. His soul knew the truth his mind wouldn’t speak of. After seeing Marta, he understood what had to be done.

Max and Adi stumbled from the vault. He stopped near the doorway to catch his breath. She ran to the window.

“What the hell is going on?”

She didn’t answer.

“Adi?”

She stood next to the glass shield, sobbing. He couldn’t see her scratching at a patch of skin close to the tendons of her left wrist. Her rough nails dug deep and produced blood. She found the edge of a chip buried under layers of raw tissue. Her thumb poked the wound, activating the device. The stinging pain was nothing compared to the heartbreak.

He went to her. “Are you okay?”

She looked at him, revealing the blood.

“Oh, muck.” He coddled her wrist and applied pressure to the cut.

“Have you ever loved someone more than yourself, Max?”

He didn’t understand the question’s importance. It wasn’t something he cared to think about.