Dawn of Defiance
A Novel by Albert Dempsey
Copyright © 2014
Prologue
"None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free"
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
It was a Monday morning at precisely 8.46am when the driver of the truck detonated the first device outside the UN building in New York. The flash of intense light thundered the heavens and melted the earth with raw nuclear power. Nothing could stand as elements dissolved into fire and ash. Surveillance systems orbiting high above the earth recorded the event as the Oppenheimer Cocktail obliterated everything within a 5-km radius. With the world in a state of shock the second device was detonated at precisely 09.03am outside Buckingham Palace. London stood against the Luftwaffe, but it would never stand again as it too was reduced to rubble and ruin. The nuclear attacks on that fateful day would permanently embed September 11th into the eons of future generations.
While the Western world recoiled in shock, others celebrated in the dusty streets of the Middle East. The feeding of anti American and British propaganda for decades had produced a fanatical and brainwashed ideology. Islamic terrorists claimed victory in retaliation against the USA for the fabrication and lies that surrounded 9-11. Two different cultures would eventually clash. The Arab coalition stood firm as the huge Allied fleet sailed towards the Persian Gulf. Haunted by memories of Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran and Syria still fresh in their minds, they vowed to destroy Israel once and for all if any of their Muslim Brothers were attacked. Israel feeling threatened once more by this hostile threat, launched a nuclear missile into the Sinai desert sending out a clear warning. They would annihilate any Arab country who dared to attack them and bring oil production in the Middle East to a standstill.
A colossal financial crisis descends upon the economic world sending it into utter panic as stock markets crash and currencies devalue. With the naval fleets in striking distance the Generals waited for their final orders as the doomsday clock edges ever closer. It would ultimately become a fight to secure the future of oil production.
China and Russia with their massive armies and naval fleets now join the Arab coalition to secure their own oil supply from the Middle East. This changes the playing field considerably.
Vargän Barchevski, the most senior UN official from Brussels succeeds in securing a peace treaty at the very last minute. The world once again breathes a sigh of relief as the Generals order their armies to stand down. Peace and security is restored by the formation of the new and more powerful United World of Nations (UWN). Its main task is to restore world peace and security and for this to be achieved certain liberties will need to be sacrificed. The global surveillance revolution reaches fanatical levels on all fronts as freedom of speech is once again seen as the breeding ground for rebellion. The UWN is forced to adopt special security measures requiring all its members to comply. A new UWN ISIS security protocol is introduced, the compulsory iBand wrist units enable all its citizens to be permanently connected to the UWN network and monitored in a cashless fast-paced hi-tech society. No longer are there any Passports or Identity cards, as within the iBand wrist unit all personal records, security profiles and access codes are stored. In addition they rapidly deploy twenty million peacekeepers worldwide to stabilize the troubled regions. Those countries who first resisted globalization are now basking in financial security and prosperity as the IMF packages secured loyalty to the United World of Nations.
In South Africa, Lt Colonel Hendrik Steenkamp receives orders to apprehend all extremists; among his targets are the Afrikaner radicals who refuse to comply to the policies of the UWN. Christian right wing communities pose the greatest threat to the stability of the region. After a raid on a Kibbutz in the Cederberg one member narrowly escapes capture and flees on foot. He’s discovered the next day by Nicole Kruger who nurtures him back to health. Her life turns upside down when she discovers who he really is. Nathan Cohen is an extremist and a member of an ultra radical group.
In Cape Town Kate Baxter's life is about to change, now in debt to Kazak, her Russian dealer, she's forced to deliver the stimulant drug AKA across the security checkpoints. However, little does she know that her dealer is also in debt to the Nigerian under lord. This will be her last delivery.
Neliswe, a journalist, sets out to investigate a top secret detention facility. If history does repeat itself, then a concentration camp would be the ultimate solution for unwanted problems. After all, South Africa has had its fair share before.
Seven extremists are now on the run in the Cederberg as the forces of Steenkamp begin closing in. A sacrifice is made that will no doubt give some a chance to escape. However the price paid sets events into action that cannot be undone.
This story is about resistance and survival in a system that will eventually enslave all within its grasp. For within the distant future the inevitable progress towards a cashless society is only a matter of time. All that is required is a trigger effect to instigate worldwide panic and fear whereby the true powers that control the world can then unleash their plan for complete economic and political control. This is not science fiction, but a logical conclusion that will eventually lead to the establishment of a New World Order.
The year is 2028.
Chapter 1
"If a man hasn't found anything to die for he isn't fit to live."
Martin Luther King
Way above the steep cliff’s the eagle sat, ever watching the riverbed below for any sign of life. This dry, desolate place would swelter in the midday heat. Drought had long cursed this land and devastated the local wildlife; now only the strongest survived. The fall of a once gentle rain had all but faded into a distant memory as devastating thunderstorms would often assault the fragile soil, washing away the last remnants of fertile life.
Screeching sun beetles broke the silence as the eagle dropped off the cliff into a death-defying dive towards the dry riverbed below. It was over in an instant as the immense bird collided with its prey, sinking its talons deep into the flesh of the desert rabbit. Not much of a meal; merely a snack. The feeding frenzy started without delay, no need for flight or to return to its nest. Like so many, it too was alone. The search for a mate would be another futile event as a local farmer had poisoned her only two weeks ago.
Between the canyons, only meters off the ground, three military helicopters of the UWN Defense Force flew silently in tight formation. They had all been fitted with the latest stealth technology, integrated with super sensitive surveillance equipment, ready for any battlefield and built for the kill.
The eagle suddenly took to flight, leaving the remainder of its kill behind - a token offering to the gods. One day this land would be barren to the bone; drought had cursed the soil and all who lived on it. However, some farmers managed to survive the dry season in carefully maintained eco-villages, the last pockets of Eden in a hostile world.
Since the establishment of the new United World of Nations (UWN), it was illegal to belong to any extremist organization, especially anti-government or ultra-religious ones that had spread like wildfire. The prevalent threat in this part of the country was the right-winged paramilitary groups, white and mostly Afrikaans, always ready for a fight.
It was another two minutes before they reached the drop zone. The reconnaissance drones were already in place over the target area and monitoring every move; relaying images and data to those who watched and planned.
Lieutenant First Class Lucas Modisa was ready for this day. Excitement kept him awake the night before with thoughts of the mission, and his evaluation as squad leader meant he was in line for a promotion. So much hung in the balance and as he'd only managed three hours sleep, he began doubt
ing his ability to make rational decisions.
This mission was a twofold operation - everything depended on timing and the unexpected, not to mention that his future career was uncertain. Modisa had been chosen by all the other candidates in his class to lead the operation.
The newly developed nerve agent being deployed was still untested on live subjects; he just hoped the protection suits and body armor worked as well as they claimed it did. Many of his troops were also concerned. He could see it in their eyes, but they said nothing. Weakness was never rewarded and to have a permanent job in such troubling times was worth fighting for.
The red light in the cargo bay went on and the troops braced themselves for action. "Stand by on my command", a voice said to the troops over the ComSat units they all wore as the helicopters hovered two meters off the ground, silently waiting to release its cargo.
The assault teams bristled with the latest battle tech fresh from Europe, manufactured at a facility in Sweden and torture-tested under the harsh African conditions. South Africa once again had an effective fighting force. Most of the troops were from Southern Africa and were not natives like the Xhosa or the mighty Zulu warriors that ruled this area before the White men came and conquered. The preferential open border policy had encouraged the migration of workers from neighboring UWN countries and had created an endless supply of cannon fodder and cheap labor, which the ruling Council exploited. As the economic superpower in Africa, it was vital for South Africa to play its role in supporting the African Renaissance, and it came at a high price.
War between rival tribes on the African continent was still claiming more and more lives daily. Somehow, ceasefire requests brokered by the UWN had once again fallen on deaf ears, especially the local warlords.
Africans at grass roots did not care much for the policies forced upon them by the UWN. They still bought wives and livestock, much like they did over the last few centuries. However those in the urban areas and cities embraced the iBand technology that made them citizens of the world. The iBand had become the ultimate symbol of liberation. Africa had now become the ideal place to test out new weapons and systems, far away from the politically correct Europeans.
I will show them what I am made of, Modisa thought to himself.
True Zulu blood flows through these veins of mine.
Was it not his ancestors who butchered black and white, Boer and British, who thought themselves so superior?
Modisa had been briefed. Orders came from the very top to ‘clamp down on all extremists’. Without delay, they sprang into action as the white rebellion was gaining far too much support among the religious Afrikaans community that had lost its dominant hold on South Africa over thirty five years ago. They seemed angry once more and wanted to fight for land and culture, not to mention their stubbornness was well known. When it came to the Boers, the policy was not to take any chances.
The system either absorbed you into its bosom, or spat you out to wither and die. Many ultra-radicals would rather starve than conform to the policies of the UWN, which had sole mandate in governing the regions now under its control. Their policy was law, and all who refused would face the full might of the local government and the UWN garrisons deployed throughout the region to maintain peace and order.
Field agents had located this particular resistance group over a month ago and forwarded all the relevant information to the UWN Head Quarters in Cape Town for further investigation. Background information checks had confirmed the radicals belonged to a group called 'Christ for Life', a Christian cult whose members simply vanished from society over two years ago; selling their houses and possessions and relocating to self sustaining communities far away from the cities.
Most fundamental groups were unpredictable; they posed a real threat to the stability of this region and they had to be dealt with before their strength grew. The last thing the authorities needed was another guerrilla war, something the Boers excelled at.
These backward idiots, what world do they think they're living in? Lucas thought to himself.
He was concerned as he’d never actually arrested an Afrikaner before.
This isn't the dark ages anymore - if they don't change then they must be forced to!
Lucas was excited as this was the type of mission to show his commitment. He was sure the rumor of his promotion to Lt. Commander was no coincidence - perhaps this evaluation mission was meant to speed things up.
His primary target was capturing the Boer, Russell van Tonder- a religious leader in his mid-sixties who had slipped out of society with his followers a few years ago.
The church they belonged to had bought farms in the Cederberg area and they worked the land in a 'kibbutz style’ society. But that all changed when their crops failed and the last of their food had started running out. Forced to sell or barter goods for supplies during the dry season, they could only slip between the cracks for so long before locals had reported the illegal trade to the local magistrate. Situated on a farm so remote it was only accessible with a 4x4 vehicle, most investigating officials became frustrated and reported the situation to higher authorities.
Within no time the authorities dispatched undercover agents who deployed aerial drones to scan and gather intelligence. They surveyed from the sky, looking down on the desolate farmstead in the clearest detail with high-resolution images showing the extremists laboring in the fields, others in the green house, and on occasion lazing around the pool, sun-tanning and swimming. In total, they counted forty-nine targets: thirty-two adults and seventeen children. The main resistance would be the adults, no doubt about that.
As it was customary to rest after lunch, Russell van Tonder was asleep on the outside sofa placed in the cool of the veranda - his favorite time of day had finally arrived. His two faithful Ridgebacks lay on the cement floor, trying to escape from the midday heat.
Three hundred meters away from the farmstead, the two helicopters hovered in stealth mode, only meters off the ground, while the command helicopter evaluated all the data gathered from the two drones circling high above the farm below. The perfect textbook raid was about to commence. All the months of practical training now came down to this final moment when their first real mission was about to unfold.
"Go, go, go!" the voice barked over the ComSat as Lucas and his troops sprang into action.
The helicopters spewed out their cargo of heavily armed troops who rapidly dispersed into the bush.
Within less than a minute the soldiers now in strategic positions, fired canisters of the nerve agent at locations in and around the complex. A ghastly purple gas spread and multiplied in all directions. The two assault helicopters lifted off and began circling the complex, adding to the confusion.
The voice over the loudspeaker turned into a bark - only the troops understood the words as they had heard it numerous times during training. The civilians however would struggle to make it out, but that really didn't matter. It was only a formality.
"Stay where you are!"
"Lie on the ground and place your hands behind your head!"
"If you run we will open fire!"
People emerged into the open; terrified at the sight of the helicopters circling the complex.
Looking around, children cried out, frantically calling to their mothers for assurance. However, they did not get far as one after the other they began to stumble and fall. The nerve agent was working as expected.
From a second floor window the first shot rang out, reverberating between structures and echoing into the distance.
Then the screaming started.
This was the signal Lucas was dreading. He hoped his troops would keep their cool as some of the Boer youth started running towards the valley and the cover of bush, but as predicted they did not get far. The nerve agent worked its way into the bloodstream as the purple gas engulfed the compound and all in its grasp.
They fell, one by one.
Hidden in the bush like young lions, the reserve troops w
aited, ready to open fire.
Two young men came into view, running across a ploughed field for cover, but they never made it as a hail of gunfire ended their escape. They lay twisted and bleeding on the freshly turned soil.
Russell van Tonder woke from his deep slumber to the sound of gunshots. He could not believe what he was hearing! It took him a few seconds to register but by then it was too late; the nerve agent had already seeped through the homestead and onto the patio. He felt its sinister sting as his lungs began to burn.
Hysterical mothers began screaming for their children who never responded. The two Ridgebacks bolted off the veranda, running straight to their first target. With yelps and growls they both lunged into the first soldier, and knocked him to the ground. Their teeth could not penetrate the body armor, but they held on tight. The second soldier, following a few steps behind, responded to the cries of his comrade by plunging his bayonet into the side of the closest dog, which ran off yelping into the purple gas. When the second dog turned on him, he shot it at point blank range. It was the sound of the yelping dog in the distance that brought a cold reality to the scene.
Russell felt his chest was about to explode. The nerve agent had already begun its work on his system as his head began spinning and swirling while he fought to remain standing. Holding his breath, he moved as fast as he could off the veranda and towards the stables but found his movements sluggish, and then all at once, the ground greeted him with a hard knock to the head. He gained consciousness again, but was unable to move as he watched everything unfold around him in slow motion. Sounds as clear as day, he could even hear his own heartbeat. He tried to call out to Johan, his first-born, his only child.
Troops had surrounded the farm complex and started moving inwards in a pincer movement, stopping to check the fallen sprawled on the ground. The scene became ominous as soldiers emerged out of the purple haze with gas masks and rifles, laser beams cutting through the mist like tentacles searching for prey. Most of the woman and children had collapsed from the gas……motionless rag dolls on the hard African soil.
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