Du Bois (Frozen Apocalypse Book 1)

by T. J. Mines

Ellen nods and sees Ismael looking down for a moment. She knows he was close to the old man and thought of him as his mentor. Loosing him must be hard on him.

  "I killed him," Ismael says.

  Ellen looks up at him at this statement. His eyes harden and his body tensions up.

  "You killed him?" Ellen exclaims, "why?"

  "It was an accident," Ismael says as he looks at Jo-Ann. The woman on the other side of the room shrugs. There's more meaning to that exchange than meets the eye.

  "Quint left the city," Ismael continues, "he opened his private gate in the wall and left with a contingent of his own security personnel. The wall guns did get some of them but Quint got away."

  "Why did he leave the city?" Ellen asks.

  "Quint leaked information to Al Bari about our defenses, our city plans and historic data about the town. He's the one that set me up for treason. He's been collaborating with his birth city to attack us."

  "He wouldn't," Ellen says.

  "He did, I've got proof," Ismael says as taps a few buttons on his wrist communicator. On the other side of the room her big screen lights up. It shows the evidence found by Ismael and Xabier on the data leaks to Al Bari. Xabier found the original logs on the tampering and send them through to Ismael that night. In it, the hacks and hackers are highlighted. Ellen is confused.

  "This," Ismael says as he cycles through the entries, "are hacks made by Quint's aides. Each one states the data source, the receiving server, date and the user who leaked the data."

  "But how?" Ellen asks.

  "Xabier tried to explain this to me too. I don't fully understand, but there used to be a global network. It's been down for centuries, but Al Bari found ways to utilize parts of it. They connected our city data center to their's to leach information. Quint has been working on it for years now. Xabier found logs of him personally putting in connections to the Al Bari command when he just started working here."

  Ellen still doesn't understand the technicalities, but it sounds plausible. Quint always seemed to have a hidden agenda. He did push a lot of changes to the defense systems through.

  "I have to check this for myself," Ellen says and gets up. She walks up to her desk where Jo-Ann is cleaning her nails now, still lounging. Ellen locks stares with Jo-Ann. After a silent battle of wills Jo-Ann sighs and rolls out of the chair. She joins Ismael on the couch as Ellen sits down at her terminal.

  Charles send her all the data she requested. On top of the list is the latest report on the investigation on Quint. The techs combed out all of Quints terminals and data stores but found nothing. Literally nothing. All systems are wiped clean. According to the techs the systems have even been overwritten with something they call 'all zeros'. Quint clearly wanted to hide something, which pleads in favor of Ismael's story. She scrolls through the reports. There is one about the men shot outside the gates. They were employed by Quint as his personal security force. Why he would need one has always been a guess to Ellen, until now. She looks at a list of people employed by Quint. All of them are born in Al Bari.

  Ellen looks at Ismael. He looks back at her, confidence once more in his eyes and posture. Jo-Ann now seems more on edge.

  "What's your role in all of this?" Ellen asks Jo-Ann.

  Jo-Ann looks at Ismael. He nods.

  "I'm with the London Underground," Jo-Ann starts, "and I'm tasked with the elimination of Quint Seif."

  "She failed," Ismael adds, "I stopped her, killing the Captain in the process."

  "We found out about Seif a few years ago," Jo-Ann continues, "we didn't want to alert you as he'd been integrated into your command structure and would surely dismissed any allegations as soon as we'd make them. I've been the third one tasked with the assassination."

  "Unacceptable," Ellen says, "how could you do this without the council knowing? We have an understanding with London and regular communications. Something would've come up."

  "Not if we don't tell you," Jo-Ann shrugs.

  "We'll deal with this later," Ellen says, "what now? You're still wanted for treason."

  "Now I'll turn myself in," Ismael says as he stands up, "and you will place me under your protection. You will grant me a trial by a judge and we will present all the evidence we've gathered. The judge will find Quint guilty of the treason and will clear my of any charges. Then, we can hatch a plan to catch Quint."

  Ellen thinks it through. It's the best option they have.

  "Fine," she says. She walks to the door and opens it. Charles is standing in the doorway, hand on its way to the doorknob.

  "Charles," Ellen says, "What's wrong?"

  Charles looks past Ellen and sees Ismael and Jo-Ann. His first reaction is shock, then fear. Resolve is the last emotion showing on his face as he looks at Ellen.

  "The train crashed."

  Are you curious what happens next? Below is a sample of what's to come!

  Siege

  Frozen Apocalypse book 2

  All is quiet in the hallway. Mounir can only hear his own footsteps. He's at his personal estate, across the large square in front of the Presidential Palace. He's been given so much in the last few years. First the chance to just be himself, whatever the cost. Then the command of a squad of special soldiers, and later a whole division to sculpt in his image. With the promotion to leadership came the estate he now lives in.

  Mounir doesn't care about luxuries. It's just for show, to give his subordinates something to aspire to. He doesn't need twenty-odd rooms to live in. But, as long as he has them, he is using them. He doesn't like wasting either. So he's dedicated this whole floor to his harem. His six wives and their offspring live here, very secure and catered to all their needs, however little that is. He's made sure his wives don't need much.

  Today he's going to visit Saroj, his second wive. He found her in an illegal brothel in the old Parisian quarter of Al Bari. She was catering to a client when he and his squad raided the place. That was a fun day. They stormed the business disguised as a grocery shop. The front room was set up with all kinds of wares on shelves. The clerk at the counter recognized their insignia's and started pleading for his life. Annoyed at the weak display, Mounir shot the man in the neck to bleed out. Gurgles are always better than whining. Next, his men kicked in the back door, which led to the actual brothel. A security guard posted at the entrance was dealt with, leaving a puddle of dark blood to stain the old rugs. Left and right were doors. One by one, the squad kicked them in and hauled the occupants out into the hall. Patrons were shot on the spot, the women were put in a group in the first room they cleared. There was some resistance, by both the whores and their clients. Resistance is futile, as Mounir once heard in a showing of a classic movie, and he still lives by that rule.

  After all the rooms were cleared, he looked over the gathered men and women catering to the unsavory needs of the weak. Sure, he gets that everyone needs to unwind, but sex is meant to create children and grow the population, not for pleasure or stress relieve. Among the ugly rabble he noticed Saroj, clinching a blanked around herself to at least stay a bit decent.

  "I want her," he pointed at the lady.

  One of his men pushed through and grabbed her by her hair to take her. She struggled, which Mounir liked, but again, to no avail. The soldier dragged her with him to stand behind the rest of the squad.

  "Torch the rest," Mounir said with a sad smile, "they need to be purged from all evil."

  Screams erupted as his men drenched the group in flammable liquids and set them aflame.

  He's at the door he seeks and opens it. Saroj is sitting in her chair, mending one of her leggings. He doesn't keep his wives apart, but Saroj never mingles. He spend a full year teaching her how to behave like a woman. She started out as a feisty witch, capable of seducing his men to do her bidding in exchange for some sexual tinted favor. Now, she knows her place. She only asks for something if she really needs it, and never uses her body for anything else but breeding offspring.

  "Good morning, Saroj
," Mounir says. She looks up at him with dark circles around her eyes.

  "Good morning," she replies, adding sweetheart after a noticeable pause. Mounir nods his approval. He knows she doesn't mean anything pleasant he says to her. He doesn't care. As long as the outside sees a proper wive in his household. What she wants is not important to him.

  "How are the wounds?" he asks, walking up to her.

  "Healing just fine."

  He grabs the collar of her blouse and takes a look. Her back is covered in bandages, some soaked in fresh blood.

  "You should change those," he says stepping back.

  She focuses again on her leggings. Mounir takes hold of her chin and twists her head to look up at him.

  "I mean it, change them, now," he growls.

  She blinks once, then puts her project away. He lets go of her face as she gets up. She walks over to a wash basin and pours in fresh water from the jug beside it. She looks in the mirror at herself, then over to Mounir who crosses his arms. She starts unbuttoning her blouse. She pulls it from her skirt to get to the last button and drops the garment to the floor.

  Mounir clears his throat. Saroj stiffens, then picks up the off-white top to place it on a stand next to the basin. She knows better than to disrespect anything Mounir has given her.

  Now she's peeling away the bandages. It comes off in one long strip. She rolls it into a neat bundle to wash later. Nothing goes to waste here. Slowly, her back is revealed to Mounir. Long gashes of raw flesh become visible. They cross a network of older scars, punishment for being the whore she has been. In some places, the bandage rips open the scabs and blood is dripping down her back staining her skirt. For now, Mounir doesn't care about it. She needs to take proper care of her wounds first. Cleaning her skirt comes later.

  Saroj puts the used bandages into a basked and looks at herself in the mirror again, she turns her torso towards Mounir to take a look at her back. He now has a full view of her empty breasts. They hang down to her belly button, her nipples dark and wrinkled. He had a surgeon do that. They were large and round. He liked them. The feel was just right. But she knew that too and used them to get her way. She manipulated him and his staff with the prospect of handling them. It took him a month before he noticed her devious ways. He then tasked a surgeon to remove all the fat from her breasts but to leave the mammary glands. She still needed to be able to feed her children is she had them. And so now the sacks of flesh have no more appeal.

  She turns to the basin and starts washing out the wounds on her back. The cloth turns bright red and so does the water as she rinses it out. Mounir feels for her. If she hadn't made the choice to become a prostitute, she'd made an excellent wive and mother. Now he's forced to punish her for the rest of her life. The scarring an eternal reminder of her faults.

  There's a knock on the door. Saroj stops washing and looks at Mounir.

  "Cover yourself, woman," he says and turns to the door. He opens it enough to look who's disturbing them. It's Yann Christianson, his personal assistant.

  "The president wants to speak to you," Yann says.

  "Right now?"

  "It's what the runner said." Yann shrugs.

  "I'll be right out," Mounir says before closing the door, "Soraj, continue cleaning yourself and clean up after yourself. This evening I want to see you at dinner with the rest of the family. You will come topless. You know why."

  "Yes, dear," she answers, lowering her gaze.

  Thank you!

  For reading this beta version of Du Bois. It's been fun to write this story, and I hope you had fun reading it.

  As a beta reader, I'd like to ask you to send your thoughts, improvements, and any other type of comment you would have to me. You can use my personal e-mail address to do so if you like: tj@backwardrats.com. If you do, I'll even send you a notification when the beta version of the next book is ready.