Spirit Invictus Complete Series

by Mark Tiro

  It was painful, listening to his dilemma. But I got it. The way he put it—who wouldn’t?

  Somewhere deep, deep underneath, a tiny, little thought bubbled up in my mind, and a small tear welled up in my eye.

  I wished I had a dad who loved me like he loved his daughter. I wish I actually had a dad at all.

  “So, you’ll there on Sunday?” My voice stumbled, then trailed off. But I needed to say something, anything to quickly change the subject. The last thing I wanted to do was think about a dad who didn’t even love me enough to stay around.

  “Yes. I’ll be there. My daughter will be safely away by then, thanks to our mutual… friend.”

  “’Friend’” I repeated. Before the word had thrown me into such a tailspin. Now it just made me laugh. We both laughed.

  “Listen,” he said, gently putting his hand on my shoulder. He became serious. “I am sorry if you loved the boy and he broke your heart. And I’m just as sorry that you hate him now. None of this need be. But, of course, it is. I don’t know what will happen in the Hall. Or after. I imagine all of us inside will be dead by the end of the day.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said.

  “I’m an old man, remember? For me, this is just like helping an old lady across the street. You though—you have your whole life ahead of you. These political things come and go. If you can keep your head down and stay out of the line of fire, this will all pass. And you’ll be able to live a long, uneventful life too.”

  Then he grew quiet. “If you have some time, try to find a quiet space for yourself. Go there, out of the way, and just try to sit down and look straight into your pain. Look at your pain—but without judging it, without judging yourself. Just look at it, and try to forgive yourself for getting into this whole mess. Forgive him—he doesn’t know what’s impelling him to be how he is. And forgive yourself. You’re doing the best you can child. Don’t beat yourself up. You don’t have to carry that resentment around with you. Grievances will only weigh you down anyway. They’ll kill any happiness you have in life faster than any bullet ever could.”

  As he talked, I sat, thinking.

  “I am going,” I said.

  “Why would you—” he began to protest. I cut him off.

  “I will be there, at the Hall. I need to be there, in Rhys’s place. The other resistance fighters already have their plans. They’ve already started taking up their positions. The whole thing centers on Rhys. If he’s not there, they don’t have a chance.”

  “What?” he asked, startled. “Has the resistance already begun infiltrating the Hall?”

  “It’s taking place over a couple days. To keep it from looking like anything out of the ordinary. I’ve been delivering the orders personally.”

  “I didn’t know that,” he said, with a troubled look. “That’s where they’ll likely d—”

  “That’s where they’ll likely die. I know. Maybe. But I’m going to be there too. I’ve decided. Rhys was the hub of this resistance operation. I know the movements. I know the logistics. I’m going to take up his position. I think I can hold the whole thing together—enough to least to give those fighters a chance.”

  “I appreciate your spirit,” he said, then smiled. “I was about your age, I think, when I went on my first operation.” He put his hands on my shoulders now, then looked me in the eye. “Are you stepping into Rhys’ shoes, then? Because if you are, it’s your operation now.”

  “I think so,” I answered. “If not me, who? So… yes.”

  “Well then, good luck Commander. Good luck, and good hunting.”

  I blushed, more like a school girl than a soldier. Or a commander of soldiers.

  “There was a famous general, years ago,” he said. “A very good commander. He believed he was the reincarnation of Hannibal. You know Hannibal, right?”

  “The opera?” I ventured. “Or the elephants, maybe?”

  “The elephants, kind of. The opera, no. There is no opera named Hannibal.”

  I was sure there was an opera named Hannibal, because I remember seeing it in an old movie when I was little. I’d decided I could let him slide just this one time though.

  “Anyway, there was this famous general who believed he was the reincarnation of Hannibal. Thousands of years after Hannibal, actually. Hell, for all I know, he probably was. Anyway, do you know how he died?”

  “Hannibal?”

  “No. The general who thought he was the reincarnation of Hannibal.”

  Not wanting to make a stupid guess, I just shrugged, signaling for him to go on.

  “Car accident. After years of battles across North Africa and then up into Italy against the fiercest resistance, he died in a stupid, silly little car accident. Which is why I will be there at the Hall tomorrow. I intend to address the nation one last time.”

  “Huh? What’s the got to do with a car accident? I mean, one last time? What?”

  “A speech, over the network uncensored and out to the nation. At least until the Committee realizes I’m not there to praise them but to bury them.”

  “And?”

  “And that, I expect, will be that.”

  “What? They will bury you.”

  “If there’s anything left to bury, maybe. And a lot more besides me too, I’m afraid. But our message of hope, of peace, will get out. And once it does, it will be much more difficult for the Committee to keep control.”

  “They’ll kill you,” I said.

  “It’s my way to die—with meaning. And it’s a hell of a lot better than dying in a car accident. The message of hope is a good thing to die for, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I’d prefer not to die,” I said.

  “Spoken like a true commander. I knew it! You’re a natural at this. ‘Don’t die’. One of the cardinal rules of the commander’s handbook.”

  I laughed. Then I decided that commanders of military operations should be more serious, and so I put on a tough face.

  Actually, I felt quite okay now. I’d been bracing myself for pain when Rhys left, but now that it was past, I just felt happy. Lighthearted, even. The dark crappiness that seemed to be swirling all around had fallen away. I was done with it, and with him. And putting it all down and being done with it, I felt great.

  He cleared the small coffee table between where we were sitting. “You know,” he said, as his mood lightened, “I’ve been inside the Hall. And inside the meeting rooms the Committee uses too. Many times actually. Let me see your tablet there—let’s see if we can’t pull up a blueprint.”

  He started rifling around some public directories on the network. These were ones that citizens could access for all kinds of things. I was pretty sure he wasn’t going he’d find any blueprints for the Hall of the Nation there, but at least it wouldn’t arouse any suspicion.

  “In the meantime while I’m digging around here looking for this,” he said, “why don’t we plan out your ORBAT.”

  “My what?” I asked.

  “Didn’t you tell me yourself that all the fighters, all the moving parts—it all hinged on Rhys’ command?”

  “Well, yes…”

  “So it seems to me… now that you’ve received your ‘battlefield promotion’, you need to come up with a strategy. A strategy, an order of battle—that’s your ORBAT, by the way. And logistics. That’s the most important part of most operations.”

  “Logistics?”

  “The best strategy in the world doesn’t mean a thing without proper logistics to make it possible.”

  “Uh, but I don’t want to…” I stuttered. “I mean, how am I going to command this operation? The resistance is spread out and in hiding—until they all converge on the Hall for the operation. They will be expecting to receive orders from Rhys.”

  “I see. So you will have to issue orders in his name then. That’s simple enough. The fighters will follow you. Just fill the space.”

  “What does that mean—‘fill the space’?”

  “What does it mean? It me
ans that you need to stand up. You are no longer a child. You are a commander of the People now. These fighters of yours—yours—they have no one else to count on. Their commander has abandoned them, left the country and left them alone on the field to die. So either you stand up, fill the space, and hold this operation together by the skin of your teeth, or it’s likely they’ll all be dead by tomorrow night.”

  I swallowed hard. Then I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

  Maybe I can do this, I thought. No—I can do this.

  At that, I felt a strength course through me. I relaxed into it.

  For the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged somewhere. I belonged here, sitting next to him, planning strategy.

  “You know, I could help you. I have a little experience in strategy and logistics.” He smiled, then added, “That is, if you’re open to my help. It is your operation commander. I don’t want to step on your toes—”

  “Yes!” I piped up. “Yes! Step on my toes, please. Step on my whole foot if you have to. I would be honored.”

  “Well then, the first thing you should learn about command: It’s not about honor. It’s about doing the right thing. It’s about leading men—leading people. And about accomplishing the objective. Oh, and also about not dying.”

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” I said.

  “Congratulations then. You’re responsible now. You, and no one else.”

  I felt the weight of the world. But the little girl who had walked into that room—she was gone. Only I was left. I was years older now than I’d been when I first came here this afternoon.

  And that was okay.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Let’s get started.” And I pulled out my tablet, found blueprints for the Hall on the network, and pushed them across the table for him to look at. Then I pointed. “What do you think of this position here?”

  5

  Five

  The next morning, I got up, pulled on my coat and cap, and slipped out the door. I walked the twenty-five minutes or so it took to get down to the Hall of the Nation as quickly as I could, without looking up. Once I got there, I found Rhys’ contact on the inside.

  “Rhys sent me ahead. To get in, and set up our command post. He’s been… delayed for now. The operation is already in motion. He’s ordered me to assume command on the ground.”

  At these last words, he looked at me a little sideways.

  “Uh, okay. Rhys has gotten us this far. He knows what he’s doing.” He looked me up and down before rendering his verdict: “You must be quite sharp then, if he trusts you to set up command of an operation this size. Let’s go.”

  Like that, I was in.

  We walked to his office, then slipped down a side door, back into a service corridor.

  “Come on. This leads to a small service space just off the room the Committee will be meeting in. There are spaces just like it, concealed off different sides of the main room. For the service staff.”

  “Service staff? And where will the service staff be today?”

  He didn’t say anything. I walked behind him, both of us in silence, until we reached the space. As the door opened, I saw a rack of maybe fifty service uniforms. Mostly for the waitstaff, but some for the kitchen and other staff.

  “Where are the service staff today? I’m guessing you’d know that better than I. You’re the service staff today,” he laughed. “You, and your people.”

  “Of course. That was my—I mean, that was Rhys’ plan. But what about the regular staff?”

  “Told the regular staff the Committee meeting today is small; that we would only need a small handful to work. All of them have been told that that ‘small handful’ just happens to be someone else.”

  “I see.” I looked around, surveying the space. I started pulling out my gear, and began to set up my command post. I was able to patch into the network relatively easily to set up our encrypted comms channels. Out of everything, our comms over the network was the one part of the operation I felt completely comfortable with. I had been the one who had designed it, after all. For Rhys of course, but that last part was just a small detail, forgotten easily enough.

  By noon, most everyone had slipped into their service uniforms, and into positions around the Committee room. My command space was just a couple rooms further off, but it was hidden, and unless you knew it was there, or were very motivated to find it, you wouldn’t have known the place existed at all.

  About twenty-five minutes later, I received the message from Elias. “I have eyes on the room. Three of the Committee members have gone in already. Still waiting for the chairperson to arrive though.”

  I looked at it, then looked over at the time. Not quite time. A few more minutes. I have to wait to get word from the general. A few more minutes… as soon as he’s in. I can’t take over the main network feed until he’s in front of the camera, ready to go. He won’t have much time until they react and take us down. Where is he? Where is he?

  “Waiting on a go to move on the Committee room Commander. All teams ready.”

  “Hold all positions,” I tapped back. “All teams, hold positions.”

  “There’s movement around the service rooms. We need to move soon.”

  Where is he? Where is General de la Barca? Where is he? He needs to be in place, or… or…

  “Orders yet?” the message from Elias was pleading now. “The Committee’s in place now, but there’s some sort of security movement. I think they might have located the position of one of our teams. Need to move NOW. Awaiting your go orders. Please advise ASAP.”

  I looked down at the screen. Nothing from the general. Nothing. Damn! Just a little longer. Once I push the network takeover, they’ll tear the place apart looking for us. Where is he?

  “Commander—they’re coming. Team one has been stormed. We need to move now. Where’s your order? Rhys? Where are you?”

  That was it. We need to go now. I pulled up the screen and tapped out the orders.

  “Go now. All teams go. Godspeed. Long live the Assembly of the People. Long live the nation.”

  “Team One—copy.”

  “Team Two, Roger that.”

  A slight pause, and then, “Team Four—copy. Godspeed Commander.”

  And then silence. Three of our four teams had copied. I still hadn’t heard from the general… wait. Just now, I saw on the network, a breaking news. I had my finger ready to break into the network. For the general to speak to the nation. Instead of pushing him through, I waited. I waited for the news. And then it flashed over the screen.

  “It is our great sorrow to announce that General de la Barca, the Father of the Nation, has died. He was murdered by Assembly terrorists today as he arrived at the Hall of the Nation to show his solidarity with the Committee and reassure the nation in wake of last week’s fraudulent announcement that he was 100% behind the Committee. The Committee is in full control and will bring to justice the criminals who are responsible.”

  That’s a lie! I raged in my head. Committee propaganda. I made another decision now. Even though I hadn’t heard from the general, if that’s a lie, and he’s still alive, he may still be able to address the nation. I made the decision, and patched his feed—or the feed where he was supposed to be—through to the network. I put it through, took a deep breath—and waited.

  The breaking news announcement grew fuzzy, and then disappeared. I couldn’t get him a message or communicate with him directly—he hadn’t been included in comms routing, to protect everyone. Just in case of something like this.

  The main network feed to the nation flickered to life again. Where the Committee breaking news feed had been, an empty room now stood. Empty… wait. No, there. There! In the corner. It’s the general. He’s alive. He’s there.

  Say something! I screamed in my head. You’re on. Go! Go! Say something! You have the nation live now! Talk.

  But he didn’t talk. He didn’t say anything. But he was alive. For the nation to see. To kno
w the Committee was lying. I had an idea, just then. I broke into the network feed and tapped out a message. There wasn’t time to hide or encrypt my location. All I could do was tap out the message, and let it go.

  “The general is alive but taken prisoner by the Committee. Resistance fighters are in the Hall of the Nation, and have taken over the Committee, and have returned power to the people, and to their rightful representatives in the Assembly. The Assembly will reconvene as soon as the situation is stabilized. Our fighters are working to free the Father of the Nation and return full control and sovereignty to the people.”

  And that was it. I let go, sat back, and waited.

  I waited for someone to break into the space I was in. Either it would be our resistance fighters, after they had secured full control of the Committee. Or it would be the Committee security men—or worse, the Revolutionary Guard—now that my location was no longer hidden.

  “Committee room is secured. All four of the Committee members present were killed in the operation. No resistance casualties.”

  “Four?” I tapped back. Frantically. “What about the fifth? Which one got away? The chairperson? Which one?”

  As I tapped out that out, I watched on the network feed as soldiers burst into the room where the general was. I held my breath. Whose soldiers? I couldn’t tell from the feed. Which side…wait. My heart leapt as I saw—they were ours. Resistance fighters. Elias led them. I watched as he extended his hand to the general and led him to the camera to begin his address to the nation. That’s it! We’ve done it! I thought. We’ve done it. We’ve taken control of the nation back from the Committee thugs.

  Just as the general began speaking, I heard a rumble. It was loud, and close enough that it drowned out his words. The rumble grew a little louder. I stood up, to go see, and then—

  Thunder! A crash, and then… I don’t know. I was thrown back into my equipment. I landed on my back, and it tumbled down on top of me. Then—bang! It was an explosion.