When she took her gun out it felt so incredibly heavy in her hands. Instead she decided it was too much effort to carry around so she left it behind in the tent. She had lost all her strength, weakened by something else besides hunger and sorrow. The signs were all there: shaking, cold shivers and a headache that would kill an ox.
The weather was cooler, much cooler, with a cold front now approaching, not only would she need food but warmth. At least she had fire.
Zipping the tent flap closed behind her to keep all the bugs out, she slowly made her way back to the pantry to have a look around. The smell of rotten garbage filled the room, attracting insects and flies. Almost throwing up, Chantel realized that she couldn’t because she had nothing in her stomach. Food was her driving force; nothing mattered more than finding something to eat.
Opening the remaining cupboards and looking deep inside the darkened shelves she spotted it: one abandoned tin in the far back corner. She became overwhelmed with excitement, as hope returned to her once again. Reaching for it, Chantel grasped it tightly in her dirty hands and pulled it out to see what she had found.
Koo Baked Beans.
Joy had returned to her broken spirit once again as she made it back to the tent for the can opener. Within three minutes she had cleaned the can out completely; every last drop of food. Realizing her blessings, Chantel lay back on her sleeping bag and thanked God for providing.
It was not much, but she realized she could not eat any more anyway, as her stomach had shrunk so much. Almost falling asleep from fatigue she lay back, looking at the roof of the tent. It relaxed her in a strange way, but she realized she needed to scout around some more.
Clear signs of a struggle were evident from the spent cartridges lying about in the room she found upstairs. It had probably been the pastor's office, but it too had been ransacked. She also found a door that opened onto a roof top; it was covered in plants, loads of plants. Examining all she could, Chantel found a few green beans, but the rest of the plants were dead. Judging by what she saw she realized that they probably had very little food to go around.
She thought about her uncle again, and wondered if Russell told them about this place.
No one can resist torture, she had seen that.
Chantel smiled when she thought about Steenkamp. He would know by now that she played him. A warm fuzzy feeling lifted her spirits.
She walked back to her tent as slowly as possible; her headache was pounding more with each and every step she took. Trying to put it to the back of her mind, she found the softness of her sleeping bag and the need to rest. Closing her eyes once again she fell asleep with her boots on.
In her mind she tried to steer her thoughts towards faces of family and friends, but her dreams were dark and haunting, trapping her while she slept for another five hours. Her body was shaking when she awoke, and her forehead was covered in sweat. Struggling to sit up Chantel realized she needed water urgently. Looking into her water bottle she discovered that it was completely empty, not even a drop to spare.
The last thing she felt like doing was getting water from the swimming pool outside. It was still about half full, but the water had already turned green which meant she would need to boil it before she could drink it. There was no way she would make it to the cave; it was at least three kilometers away on the other side of the mountain.
No water flowed from any of the pipes and even the toilet bowls were dry. Realizing that without water she would die, she got herself together once again and made her way to the half-empty pool.
Climbing down as carefully as possible without slipping, she balanced on the last step and plunged the water bottle below the surface to get the best of the green water. Then she went back to the courtyard and her tent. Once again Chantel felt her energy level begin to dip. Before it was all gone she stacked some broken bricks in a circle and went off to get wood.
Taking her cooking pan out, Chantel poured the contents of the water bottle into it and balanced it on the fire. Within fifteen minutes it was boiling. She watched the bubbles form and rise to the top. She was mesmerized by them and it brought back childhood memories of better times. Smoke filled the courtyard but she didn't care.
It was her second day at the Ark, and she felt the end was in sight. What she had not told anyone was that she needed an exit plan, an escape from her nightmare. Taking the pan off the coals, she let it cool next to the tent while she got up using her last strength and walked over to the broken window to look out.
What a sight….. The mountain range in the distance was jagged and crisp, a pure line between heaven and earth. The sunset was about to form and Chantel held the window frame tightly to balance herself. Birds flew together across the sky in perfect formation, like flocks of angels going home.
She too wanted to go home.
Feeling her legs about to give in, Chantel walked back to the tent and sat down. She poured the sterilized water back into the bottle. It was still slightly warm.
So many times she thought about this moment, how she would be tested. She thought about her life and the meaning behind it all. In the end Chantel had no answers, just more unanswered questions. It was going to be a long, lonely night…… the cold thunder clouds would be here soon.
What is the point? She said to herself.
Then she realized why she did it; why she prevailed. If her life never amounted to much, at least she gave Nathan and the others a fighting chance.
She then remembered the name she gave them: The Yeshua Tribe. Chantel smiled for the first time in days. The pain in her wrist had also subsided and her body felt at peace.
It was just her soul that needed a release, but it would never find them there.
It took time, but in the end she managed to drink all the water down. Taking a gulp with each and every pill she swallowed. In the end, she finished all thirty sedative pills. Steenkamp gave her specific orders to use it on Nathan and the group.
Closing the tent for good, she said good-bye to the world, and fell into her deepest sleep ever.
Chapter 33
"It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society."
J Krishnamurti
Clouds of thick black smoke could be seen rising high from the makeshift barricades that blocked Lower Main Road in Observatory. Rioting crowds swept through the streets, grabbing anything they could use to prevent the Zone Police from patrolling. Plastic garbage bins easily ignited from the home-made cocktails of cooking oil and fire starters, turning them into a blaze of flames. Even though a curfew had been imposed, many had defied the Police and took to the streets to protest.
CCTV cameras recorded the growing mobs as they congregated around street corners and in parking lots. Those who were identified would be arrested at a later stage. With ISIS tracking technology, it was child's play to match iBand devices to registered users; those identified within a cluster would be rounded up for interrogation.
Sitting around the long boardroom table were the authority elite. All seven of the Zone Commanders were in attendance and sat patiently, waiting to be addressed by their superior. Their scolding session would be intense as it was rumored once again that heads needed to roll; accountability for inefficient policing would not be tolerated.
Steenkamp was on edge. At his age it was unlikely he would ever get such a position again with a salary package many would die for.
He had seen the underground video footage posted across most social media networks.
The mainstream television stations however did not show any of the footage, but filled their viewers' minds instead with trivial game shows, sport and sitcoms. Keeping people entertained was a vital policy in 'dumbing' the population down. A process made simple, as ninety percent of the country relied on the television networks for information. It was, and always would be, controlled by the ruling class, who had a vested interest in keeping the public ill-informed of the agendas discussed at private cocktail parties and in secret st
rategy meetings.
The plasma screen went on and the entire boardroom once again viewed the footage that had ignited the firestorm of protest. It showed, in the finest detail, the mine complex at a distance, surrounded by mountains. Then it zoomed in to the main camp and the wire fences; showing the holding cages where thousands of people were detained. At the end of the video the word 'Staaldraad' was inserted with a mug shot of Lt. Colonel Hendrik Steenkamp. The caption, 'Wanted for crimes against humanity', with the exact GPS coordinates of the camp.
Everyone turned to face Steenkamp, who sat motionless.
Philippe du Toit stood up. He was a tall, thin man, just out of his thirties, but they all knew him well, he had personally recruited each and every one of them as Zone Commanders according to their particular skill sets.
"First I would like to welcome you all here today to this emergency meeting. As you know the situation has now escalated out of control since this footage went viral," he said with a strong French accent.
They watched him as he began to pace around the table. Everyone kept their eyes on him while he ranted and raved concerning the pressure his office was under since the story broke. He was from Belgium and worked as a personal adviser to the office of the President of the UWN regarding African matters.
"It's unfortunate this footage has spread like wildfire, however, we are working as fast as we can to pull it off the media servers. As you know, it is virtually impossible to erase it completely. Our initial response to this story was at first denied, but as of this moment the official story is that the complex known as Staaldraad is a maximum security prison for international terrorists. So please, do not deviate from this story at all," he said.
Steenkamp shifted in his chair, everyone knew that Staaldraad fell under his command and ultimately he was responsible for the breach of security. He could feel eyes staring at him, but he remained as calm and composed as he could be. Yet he was anxious as he had not prepared anything for his defense.
Philippe du Toit was ready once more with another round of ranting and raving concerning the diabolical lack of security, both on the streets and at the UWN installations and compounds.
Other Zone Commanders began to shift in their seats as Phillippe du Toit went around the table, virtually interrogating the commanders himself. However, he would stop from time to time to check his iBand for messages. It was a more sophisticated unit than the standard issue UWN iBands. It, no doubt, had direct access to the top echelons of the ruling class.
"It's clear from our reports that the tension on the streets has reached boiling point since the release of the Staaldraad video. It's unfortunate that we had some fatalities; however, it's necessary to maintain a firm hold before it escalates out of control. Gentlemen, you have to return calm to the streets and remove the threats with a minimum of casualties," he said as he walked to the other side of the room.
The mood was starting to shift.
Philippe du Toit turned to face them.
"We cannot deviate from the agenda. We must continue regardless of the obstacles."
They all agreed and nodded their heads in unison.
Steenkamp was prepared for a reprimand, perhaps even a suspension, but not this.
"First of all, those who leaked this footage are to be found and arrested. We have detained over two hundred and seventy protesters who have all confessed to be members of the PRM."
Philippe looked down at his file. "The Peoples Resistance Movement," he said.
He paused and turned to activate the plasma screens.
An underground website had been hacked, UWN experts soon discovered in the embedded source, vital information to the ISP and those who managed it.
"This falls under your division, Colonel Steenkamp, however all Zones are to be put on high alert regarding this group; we have already compiled a list of suspected terrorists. The instant this group became active we began to monitor them. That was a week ago, gentlemen, and their membership has now grown exponentially, to be over a few thousand already. If it grows at this rate we may have an uprising on our hands, so this could be a problem. We have 'Red Flagged' the ring-leaders, but all the members of PRM are now to be detained and removed to our secure location at Staaldraad. Do you have the facilities to process them, Colonel?"
Steenkamp's moment had arrived as all eyes fell on him.
"Our current holding facilities are at maximum capacity," he said.
Philippe du Toit was in shock and wanted to say something, but Steenkamp cut him off.
"But, we have converted two warehouses to hold an additional 2500 prisoners. Yes, the conditions are very primitive but they will do," he said in his cold mono-voice.
With that problem now taken care of it was time to move on to the next pressing matter. Philippe du Toit turned to face the multiple plasma screens.
"You can proceed," he ordered his aide.
Everyone now stared at the profiles of the ring-leaders displayed across all five screens.
"We will start with this one here: Nathan Cohen, an American citizen who is part of an organization called 'Christ 4 Life'. We estimate they have over two million members worldwide. Anyway, he arrived in South Africa on the 17th of July, 2025, from Tel Aviv. Not much is recorded about his activities in South Africa or the group, as they disappeared a month before the activation of the ISIS system," Philippe said.
Taking a break he looked at his iBand again.
"Let me continue. These compounds are completely self-sustaining, run on a Kibbutz-style system with a religious Elder in charge. They follow an ultra-radical form of Christianity which makes them virtually impossible to reintegrate back into society."
His iBand vibrated on his wrist and he checked the message.
"Sorry for that. They are categorized as a level 4, which means rehabilitation is not an option."
The screen changed to reveal the next suspect.
"This one is categorized as a level 5." The men in the room immediately paid more attention.
"Her name is Kathryn Elizabeth Baxter, originally from the UK. A former employee of Digital Global Media, and the one we feel is personally responsible for igniting the uprising due to her online campaigns. She must be found and detained as the highest priority."
They all stared at her profile photo, her statistics, qualifications, next of kin and her arrest warrant.
"She went underground almost two months ago, and deactivated her iBand from the ISIS network, so it's been virtually impossible to track her down. However, we have linked her to the 'Christ 4 Life' extremists and as I've just been informed by Colonel Steenkamp, we have her exact location."
Steenkamp had already supplied all the Intel his staff had collected on the group. Most of it came from Chantel, his most valuable asset at the moment.
"I am delighted that Colonel Steenkamp had the insight to embed an agent who has been reporting directly to him, into the group. She will give us the leverage we need." Philippe du Toit closed his file and looked at Steenkamp, who realized it was now his turn to speak.
It took most of the morning for Steenkamp to prepare himself mentally for this meeting.
Every now and then he too would indulge in the advantage of taking a mind-boosting substance when needed. At his age he required any advantage he could to stay in the game. Remaining seated Steenkamp opened his file, and looked down at his notes.
"I believe this operation will be one of our most difficult, as the leader, Nathan Cohen will now be prepared. Even though we have the firepower and the Intel, he will no doubt be familiar with our tactics and briefed his followers to take action. However, I have instructed our agent, who has infiltrated his group, to administer a sedative to Nathan Cohen and the other men in the group prior to our raid."
Steenkamp had failed to mention one very important fact.
Why the fuck has she not replied to any of my messages yet? He thought to himself as he turned the page.
The Zone Commanders all knew about Steen
kamp and his pedigree: once the spear head of the SADF, the elite Recce's were on par, or even better than the best of the US and Israeli Special Forces.
"Lt. Nathan Cohen was first with the US military, 22 Marine Infantry Unit, and then he joined the Israeli Defense Force and completed his four year term in their counter terrorist unit."
Others in the room shook their heads from side to side; they knew he was the real deal.
The Israeli would be familiar with their tactics, and by now they would’ve gone deep underground to avoid arrest.
"I have full confidence in Operation Clean Sweep to apprehend these terrorists, and my staff and personnel are fully committed to restoring the peace and security within our region. I know they will perform their duties diligently."
He liked using that world.
"Furthermore, it's just a matter of days before we launch our offensive and bring the perpetrators to book. Thanks to my agent we know their exact location at all times. Once we have captured the ring-leaders and displayed them on television, we are confident that the footage will end any notion of resistance. By the end of the week they should all be arrested," Steenkamp said as he watched Philippe du Toit stand up and walk out of the room.
He opened the door.
"Please get the General," he said to a security agent who stood guard outside the door.
He returned to his seat and waited. Within moments a man in full military uniform from the UWN High Command walked in. He wore the rank of Lt. General and far out-ranked all the Zone Commanders in the room. They all stood up as Steenkamp took the salute.
"Please, gentlemen, be seated," Philippe du Toit said. "General, please join us on this side."
He walked around the table and sat down in the empty seat.
"Lt. General Steinhauser has made an additional two thousand five hundred troops available in our fight against the uprising and to bring the extremists to book."
Steenkamp liked the man already as he was crazy about everything German. This little rebellion would be crushed into submission without even breaking a sweat.
Dawn of Defiance Page 27
