YEAR 2030 - EUROPA - LONDON COMPOUND
The lights from the drones above were burning through Jake's eyes making it barely possible for him to see the cluster of green and black suited foot soldiers who had him entirely surrounded. It was well known that the Empire's forces largely comprised of these robotic man-sized clones. They were easy to control and entirely dispensable and somewhat ironically were made in China. Perfectly formed and proportioned, such an army would have made Hitler proud. To look at them it was very difficult to believe that they were not human, but sadly for Jake, this reality was going to make escaping this situation somewhat impossible.
'Secure the prisoner' declared the voice of the drone operative who had resumed control of his station from the omniscient voice of Jake's past.
'Wait!' Jake shouted desperately clawing for time. 'Look, guys, I'll give you a chance to walk away unscathed if you just let me go'.
The irony that Jake was currently trying to negotiate his way out of this mess with in excess of twenty robot foot soldiers was not lost on him at this point, but his command had slowed them briefly.
'Secure the prisoner, now' commanded the voice from the drone above.
Drones had been used to great effect by the Empire to control these enclosed compounds. Such implements of war and control had been used to great effect by the United States Administration a couple of decades earlier in eliminating regimes who stood between them and their interests overseas. These modern day drones, however, were far more sophisticated, smaller and agiler. They had the ability to patrol the skies obtaining surveillance intelligence without the limitation of being fixed to specific sites and being easy targets for vandalism should anyone fall out of line. The fact that they were heavily armed also meant that the Empire could eliminate threats within or outside the compounds with relative ease. The only limitation it seemed they had was that they required human operatives to function. That was the weakness that Jake knew he could exploit.
Five foot soldiers in front of Jake now stepped forward guns aimed at his chest.
'On your knees' the one in the centre said, waving his gun towards the ground to reinforce to Jake what was expected of him.
'Gladly' Jake said with a wry smile, following the orders of the gunmen.
As he slowly lowered himself to the cold, dark ground, Jake closed his eyes and took in a deep breath.
The lights from the drone behind him rocked awkwardly from his position and jerked up and into the air and the drone began to spin wildly out of control preventing any further action from the foot soldiers.
'SECURE HIM NOW' screeched the second operative’s voice from the drone opposite before it too began to judder and lose control.
Now both drones were spinning wildly in the night sky, clearly beyond the control of the operatives back at base. Jake maintained his crouched posture and took in another deep breath.
It was clear that the situation was getting out of control and now without any further instructions, all of the foot soldiers made a move on Jake. The drone behind him now corrected its path and locked its bright beams on the advancing foot soldiers. They raised their guns to neutralise the threat, but within an instant, an intense laser beam cut through the darkness cutting through six of them, the second wiping out the remaining seven or so before the drone hurtled headfirst into the ground and erupted into flames.
Jake now rose to his feet and turned on the twelve remaining soldiers who now began to fire at him. His instincts were to run, but for some reason, his feet were rooted to the ground facing down his attackers. The soldiers advanced on his position firing at will, but he stayed still. The ground beneath them began to shake violently as if a herd of wild buffalo was charging towards them. Jake's eyes now opened a bright blue glow now replacing his hazel eyes, emanating a light more bright than the searchlights of the second drone which had now corrected itself and swooped down behind him, armed and pointing at the soldiers.
The shots fired were making no impact, an ultra blue force shield had engulfed Jake's body deflecting them back towards the shooters. The drone now unleashed its arsenal upon the remaining foot soldiers tearing through them like a scorching knife through butter. Jake remained in a trance, a wild wind of energy channelling through him to maintain the spherical makeshift protective field all around him, his eyes and hands illuminated with a power never seen. His lank locks fluttered and stood on end as if hit by a bolt of lightning.
The foot soldiers had all been completely destroyed, the first drone lay in a heap completely beyond repair and ablaze and now Jake turned to the second drone, the ground beneath him shaking with aftershocks of the devastating disaster that had just occurred.
'Tell Numen, I'm coming for him' Jake said with a deep and echoing tone directly to the drone above.
He then took a deep breath and as he exhaled the bright blue and white energy that had flowed in and around him surged with the speed of an advancing cheetah into the sky. The strips of energy fused and moulded together like old friends reuniting as they hurtled collectively towards the drone gaining pace. A loud explosion like a clap of thunder erupted as the energy ball collided violently with the drone. A bright white light soared across the skies of the city compound providing a glimmer of daylight for a second or two until the energy ball and the destroyed drone were swallowed by the darkness.
Jake was now left alone in the side street with a path of destroyed machines all around him. He had a meeting to make with Frank and Max and would need to find a hideout until then. His plan to come to London under the radar had gone probably as terribly as he could have imagined and no doubt Frank would not be happy with him, but he had sent a message to Numen and the Empire, revenge was coming and the miscarriages of justice of the past would be rectified. Jake's father would be honoured and avenged, of that, he was certain.
As he moved, he felt a wet sensation dripping onto his hooded top. He wiped his hand across his nose to see a steady stream of red was now flowing freely from his nostrils. His head was pounding like a drum and his energy was fading fast, he needed to find a safe, secure location quickly before he passed out. Jake had experienced this before. Whenever he used his powers previously he had experienced a nose bleed and felt nauseous and weak.
Sirens began to ring out in the aftermath of what had just taken place. Jake now headed into the darkness looking for somewhere to stay the rest of the night and preferably, find a change of clothes.
Hey kid, this way. Max's voice echoed faintly in Jake's aching head.
'Max? That you?' Jake murmured weakly now beginning to become disorientated and dizzy.
The American Staffordshire Terrier emerged from out of the darkness of a poorly lit alley having clearly evaded his pursuers. The relief etched upon Jake's face to see his faithful companion was palpable. His chubby face and panting tongue reminded Jake of happier times when they were young and Max was just a puppy. Max had since become his most trusted and loyal friend, someone upon whom he could depend upon unequivocally and he was very glad to see him now. Max would know how to take care of him.
'You didn't trust me to get out alive then?' joked Jake, far from the godlike image he had cut not long ago.
Well to look at you, I'm not convinced you succeeded! Max mocked.
Max pulled up alongside him and licked the blood from his nose, much like the way a mother would pull out an old handkerchief to wipe the dirt from her child's face.
'I need a change of clothes before morning' muttered Jake entirely fatigued and exhausted.
Way ahead of you, my friend, now let's get you some rest before tomorrow.
Max then led him down the alley to the back of a closed food market that he had found for them to stay the night.
LONDON COMPOUND - UNITED CRIME CONTROL AUTHORITY HQ
This was no ordinary day at the office for Frank McQuaid. The director of Security and Intelligence for the United Crime Control Authority (UCCA) had been accustomed to his morning bagel and coffee at one of his favourite outlets, a quick review with his night team of what tended to be better described as an NTR (nothing to report) briefing and then setting a plan for security patrols of food and resource shipments for the day to minimise losses to rebels within the ghettos. Today, however, he had been called in on alert following an unprecedented event the previous evening.
Frank was a mild-mannered, middle-aged man who had dedicated his life to the much-changed security services over the years. He had served as a Metropolitan police officer back in the days when London had its own force. He had also served many years in senior positions in both Mi5 and Mi6. To say he had seen pretty much everything in terms of security and terrorism was an understatement. He was a well-regarded and straight talking professional who took his work very seriously. He had risen through the ranks to his current position because of his excellence and whilst he suspected that the current ruling elite was far from clean cut, he knew that the stark reality was that they were not that much different to previous politicians and men of power.
The UCCA's role was to monitor and maintain surveillance throughout the compounds across the globe. All security and intelligence ran through the headquarters here in London and was one of the main employers in Europa. Not only was it their job to maintain order, to contain the rebellion and to ensure complete control was maintained, a key function was ensuring that the key messages of the Empire were broadcast through the state media to ensure that workers knew who was in control. Frank once joked that his team were like drug pushers such was the lorry load of nonsense that they kept their ill-informed citizens dosed up on. The number one priority was to ensure control and order and to keep people to their tasks.
The UCCA had enough dirt on absolutely everyone that even those who worked within the surveillance services were fearful of past concepts of whistleblowing and leaking information to the press. The truth was the Empire owned all media across the world and no one had access to alternative media within the confines of these fortified compounds. It made censorship of the past seem trivial by comparison.
The rules were simple: do your job, live in relative luxury within the compound. The alternative of stepping out of line was met with 'mysterious disappearances' like something out of the Politburo playbook back in Stalin's day; being sent to the Outlands and subject to torture and reprehensible treatment that in a more liberal past would have been seen as war crimes; alternatively, publicly broadcast executions of state terrorists had been known to occur even when no evidence existed. Owning and controlling everything, the Empire create evidence to justify its activities and actions with relative ease and everyone knew it best to just go along with it like Lemmings.
The challenge facing Frank today was that the NTR briefing would instead be replaced by a detailed investigation into what had occurred the previous evening on the UCCA’s doorstep. In excess of thirty foot soldiers, four drones and a couple of armoured vehicles had come to be destroyed by a teenage boy and his dog. The same boy whom he had received an encrypted message from that night on an old and disused channel. In fact, he was due to meet him within the next couple of hours at his favoured coffee shop. The agreement with Jake had been 'quiet and orderly', he remembered that because that is what he had told his old friend Jack's son just a day or so ago when he agreed to meet with him. The kid had royally fucked up his day and to say he was more than a little pissed was a massive understatement. All of this was going to be difficult to clean up, especially given the meeting tomorrow between Europa President Van Duyn and the other leaders of the Four Territories of the world. Not a good start to the day.
There was a knock at the door.
'Come in' Frank barked, flipping through the images captured the previous night on his touch screen monitor.
He had expected one of his incompetent operatives to be standing before him, tail between his legs apologising profusely for their monumental screw up the previous evening. Instead, he was met by a towering dark figure, dressed from head to foot in black leather attire, ebony skin pulled tightly across chiselled, sharp features. The man's glowing white grin was not welcoming or one that filled you with a feeling of warmth, quite the contrary. His bald head was dressed with silver braids that clung all around the base of his skull like reef knots on the side of a fishing boat.
As soon as Frank realised to whom his less than welcoming invitation was addressed he rose to his feet and cast a more apologetic figure. 'I'm sorry General Numen, I had expected someone else' he said somewhat embarrassed.
'Clearly' replied Numen, removing his sunglasses to reveal is impressive and piercing blue eyes. 'It seems we encountered a bit of a problem last night Director'.
'Yes sir, I've been reviewing some of the footage and images before you arrived' Frank said trying to avoid eye contact. He and Numen had never really gotten along, both suspicious of the other's motives. 'I intend to conduct a full investigation as soon as this brief conversation ends' asserted Frank returning to his seat and flicking through the images again.
Numen stroked his bright silver goatee beard sans stache. 'Well don't worry yourself too much about it. I was here last night and have taken care of the damage limitation activities'.
Frank's brown eyes sharpened into an angry stare and interrogated Numen's face. 'That really is not your concern General' he growled. 'In fact, we had not anticipated your intrusion until later on this evening. Your meeting, after all, is not until tomorrow'.
Numen chuckled, clearly enjoying the power play that he had initiated. 'Well, needless to say, this monumental fuck up happened on my watch Director' he said, his face cooling into a stonier facade. 'I'll ensure that President Van Duyn is fully aware that this was my mistake, Frank, I'm very used to cleaning up my own messes'.
'See to it that you just focus on your job, whatever that is' sniped Frank in response, 'and I'll stick to doing mine'.
Numen sneaked a smile before replacing his glasses. 'Strangest thing, though' he said as he turned to leave. 'Not one image of the alleged perpetrator in the system'.
Frank looked quizzical. 'What do you mean?'
'It was as if a ghost broke into the compound, overpowered a number of our units and then disappeared again without a trace. Curious' replied Numen.
'You mean to tell me we have absolutely no files from any of the surveillance drones or fixed security cameras that tell us who or what did this?' enquired Frank angrily.
'Not even the slightest indication that it ever happened. I checked the tapes personally' smiled Numen.
Frank twigged to what the general was telling him. He had taken the files himself, for what purpose Frank did not know, but what he did know was that it was not good news for him or Jake.
'I'll be sure to check the footage myself and launch an internal enquiry into what happened' said Frank trying to regain his authority. He would speak with his operatives from the night shift before he met with Jake.
'Again Director, no need. Like I said, I took it upon myself to clean up my mess' smirked Numen. 'See the report yourself' he said pointing at the monitor as he left.
Frank simmered in his chair briefly. This day was not getting any better and with Numen in town, he felt a little uneasy about meeting with Jake, but he needed to warn him. He had promised to protect him and that was what he had to do no matter the consequences. Frank snatched at the control and put the latest state broadcast on to see how the incident had been reported.
The female news reporter was stood at the scene where Jake and Max had evaded capture. It was a bright weekday morning within the compound and the devastation from the previous night looked somewhat less dramatic in the cold light of day than what many of the remaining surveillance pictures on Frank's touch screen monitor showed. The clean-up crews had clearly done a great job in taking care of the wreckage.
'I'm April Spring reporting for Europa Broadcast News here in sunny London, where last night an unfortunate accident took place. The intelligence services have released a statement which states that shortly after midnight a courier was struck by lightning and crashed into nearby buildings. The shipment caught fire burning up the truck and its cargo. Sadly the driver of the vehicle also died in the incident in which authorities are calling a tragic incident' she said entirely convincingly.
A picture of the man alleged to be driving the truck emerged on screen. It was the face of one of Frank's drone operators, not that anyone else outside of the UCCA would know, particularly as the man being referred to as Thomas Collins had no family ties within the compound.
'The director of UCCA has said that whilst no witnesses had come forward the authorities were not treating the matter as suspicious and no further investigations would take place. The family of Thomas Collins has been notified and our condolences are with his family at this sad time' she concluded.
Frank sat at his desk sick to his stomach. He knew that this kind of bullshit news story would be lapped up by the masses. Even apparently big news stories like this one were very easily swept under the carpet, in the rare event that someone suspected that the story was nonsense, who were they going to tell? Social media had been outlawed over a decade ago and using such things had been made a punishable crime. This had not stopped rogue elements from trying and whilst the internet could not be shut down entirely, no one in the compounds could access it. The media was state broadcast only, and for a quiet life, people went along with whatever they were told.
'In other news, President Van Duyn will be hosting a special meeting with leaders across the world tomorrow evening to explore a military response to the scourge of the terrorist rebellion which continues to try to undermine our citizen's freedom. Rebels have been plotting attacks against our compounds and this has forced the UCCA to maintain curfews on the streets to protect us from terrorist attacks. General Numen was kind enough this morningto give a brief interview. Take a look at what he had to say'.
The report then showed Numen speaking to the young reporter forcing Frank to cover his face in frustration.
'Citizens of London' Numen said, 'we are entering a very difficult phase in the ongoing war against the rebellion. They seek to attack your freedoms through perpetrating the very acts that had them removed from the sanctity of this utopia we have sought to create here in these peaceful times. We request that you comply with our directives for the safety of yourselves and your families. Your ongoing co-operation will enable us to vanquish the threat these terrorists pose to our peaceful way of life' he said with utmost sincerity. 'World leaders will come together to find a solution for us citizens who seek to live in a world free from tyranny and fear. Together we will continue to rebuild our nations and cast the ills of our collective past into oblivion. Thank you'.
Frank allowed himself a wry smile. This kind of speech was textbook. We are all in this together, against them, the evil ones who seek to ruin our amazing way of life. What was more surprising to him was that anyone really believed any of this horseshit anymore. The ‘post-truth’ era in full effect. No one cared about the inconvenient truths that were constantly glazed over, survival depended on fitting in and complying with whatever the Empire demanded.
The reporter was now back at the scene of the alleged truck crash, smiling sweetly and innocently with the belief of a true follower of the regime. April Spring like most citizens was drugged to the eyeballs of the perpetual lies that were fed to her as she made her way through her inconsequential life.
'Following the conclusion of that interview, General Numen gave me an exclusive private interview' said the reporter, enthusiastically and seeming to ignore the fact that no other reporters were in existence. 'He announced that a mole within our very own United Crime Control Authority was detected this morning and detained. The mole, Michael Adams, was said to have been working for Isaac Koresh, the lynchpin of the terrorist rebellion, and had stolen a number of surveillance files which he had been passing to them to support their horrific activities. The disgraced Adams was caught by the general himself and will be summarily executed live on this channel, later on, today. Make sure you are watching' she chirped.
Little did she know that 'Michael Adams' was, in fact, the second drone operator for the previous night shift and more importantly that he was entirely innocent of the charges against him. A convenient ‘file’ of charges would be created to complete the narrative. The standard was to develop a fake evidence trail: dodgy searches, communications with rebels, alleged affiliations, and motives against the Empire. None of it was based on truth, but the narrative was necessary to complete the picture. The execution would see the case closed and everyone would move on. No one would fight for him, but no doubt many would turn on the news later to watch him vaporised, though.
Frank switched off the news report entirely downtrodden. Both 'Michael' and 'Thomas' had always been loyal and reliable operatives who had worked with Frank for many years. If he had not known better, Frank would have cancelled his meeting with Jake and sought to spare 'Michael' a painful and undeserved death, the truth was, nothing that was reported was 'live' anymore. The man was already dead and for whatever reason Numen had confiscated the footage of Jake.
There had been enough propaganda for the day, so Frank decided it was time for a well-deserved bagel and coffee and headed out into dreamland in search of some real answers.
LONDON COMPOUND - MACK'S COFFEE SHACK
Many changes had occurred in the world over the past few decades, but man's desire for a hot cup of coffee and savoury snack had not abated over the years. Thankfully the global economic collapse which began in late 2013 had led to the decline of corporatism and the death of multinational chains whose overpriced beverages and avoided tax responsibilities had seen the emergence of more local, enterprising outlets such as Mack's. Frank had been coming here for a few years now, a quiet retro place that served coffee and snacks and reminded him of a much different time. Music played quietly in the background enabling the business of an impromptu and private conversation to take place with zero interference and absolute confidence that no one would be listening. Hiding in plain sight was the best way to evade the prying eyes and ears of the oppressive monitors and Frank as the king of that particular castle knew this all too well.
He was now finishing off his bagel and last sip of coffee in the far booth away from the counter and entrance. He had already been here much longer than he had originally intended. Where the hell was Jake?
A waiter carrying a fresh mug of coffee and several plates of side orders placed them down at his table. Before Frank had the chance to ask the dumb kid what the hell he thought he was playing at and relating to him in no uncertain terms as to why would he have ever considered ordering such a large meal at this time of day, it was clear from the kid's tousled brown locks hidden beneath his cap and the shabby excuse for a uniform he was wearing that he was not the kind of clean cut type that Mack would have given employment to.
'Well well, Jake, incognito I see' mocked Frank. 'Where's the mutt?'
Jake sat down and removed the baseball cap and nonchalantly motioned to the window where Max stood attentively outside the shop watching and keeping an eye on things.
'Not sure he'd take very kindly to that kind of thing' he replied, ensuring that no one was in earshot. 'You sure this place is ok?'
'It's fine' Frank snapped. 'Now, what the hell is the deal with all this food?'
'Been a while since I had anything to eat, was feeling a little queasy' he replied before wolfing down one of the savouries.
'That blood on your shirt there?' said Frank motioning towards the red stain on his waiter's outfit.
Jake continued to hungrily devour another savoury whilst snatching a glance at his shirt. 'No, ironically that's the ketchup from the bacon sandwich I had before I came over here. Sorry'.
'You eat well, for someone who has no credit record or credits to his name' said Frank sarcastically.
Since the fallout from the crash, transactions had all become digital. Money had been done away with many years before when it had lost all value. With the credit system, no one could default on payments, they were simply deducted from your balance. Credits were all biometrically linked and given that Jake had never been registered on the system, it was a legitimate challenge from Frank.
'About that' Jake said with a hint of shame in his voice.
Frank waved the feeble protestation away. 'Uncle Frank to the rescue again then I see'.
'I billed it to your account, Mack knows you know me' he said.
Frank shook his head. He had never had kids and had no real family to speak of. He knew Jake was a cheeky little cretin and to be honest, someone should be dining out on his credit account, seeing as he was not making the best use of it.
'Left quite a mess behind last night, what happened to quiet and orderly?' he enquired.
'I was in that dry cleaning place you recommended and from nowhere they were on to us. It's like they knew we were there' he said defensively. 'What else was I supposed to do?'
Frank pondered his explanation for a moment. Who could have possibly known that Jake was in the compound, he had gone to great lengths to ensure they got in during a shift changeover and the building had been under refurbishment just a few days? As he pondered the potential suspects, Jake began placing some of the food into a napkin and folding it up.
'Lost your appetite?'
'Nah, Max will get his knickers in a twist if I don't save him some. The whining just isn't worth it'.
Frank had a quick look over his shoulder to see the coast was clear. From the booth in the corner, he could see a queue of people in line waiting for their daily caffeine fix, a middle-aged man in the corner catching a re-run of this morning's news bulletin on the monitor and Mack with his big moustache and greasy brow attending to his customers. A final check on the outside saw only Max stood attentively with his back to them and no one else in sight.
He pulled a small package from the inside pocket of his overcoat and slid it across the table to Jake. It was no bigger than a deck of cards.
'Inside is a new mobile that you can reach me on. It's fully encrypted and off the network. We don't tap these devices anymore, the rebels are using the same stuff we dish out to the mindless minions in here. There's also the details of where you can find Isaac and a token in there that he'll want to know he can trust you' he said, urging Jake to remove it quickly. 'Now give back the old phone, I'll dispose of it'.
'Token? What kind of token?' said Jake and he slipped the package into his pocket and slid the old mobile across to Frank.
'It's something that shows him that you know me, I don't want to say any more than that. Give it to him and he'll know' Frank replied mysteriously.
'Thanks, Uncle Frank'.
'You sure I can't talk you out of this? You are going up against the people who may have framed your father and who established the New World Order' Frank said. 'I promised your dad I'd look out for you and keep you safe. I'm going against my word here'.
'Like I told you before until my father's name is cleared and the truth is heard I will not rest. I'm not a kid anymore' Jake growled angrily. 'You can't tell me that you are okay with all of this ... this corruption, deception, it's all a goddamn lie'.
Frank shushed him and checked to see that no one could hear what he was saying. 'Fine. Do what you have to do. I hope Isaac can help you, he's got his own agenda too, though, remember that'.
We've got company out here. Max's voice sounded in Jake's head. Meet me round the back.
Jake turned briefly to the window to see Max moving away and making a move for the rear exit. A group of uniformed officers from the UCCA were heading for Mack's diner.
'I gotta get out of here' he said, grabbing his things. 'Thanks again for everything'.
Frank made the guys from his department. His day was not going according to his usually meticulous plans.
'Get going' he said getting to his feet to shield Jake's exit out back 'and try to keep out of trouble'.
After a few steps, he turned back realising that he hadn't warned him about Numen. It was too late he was already staring at shadows.