Jack Cabe

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Jack Cabe Page 7

by Timothy Nguyen


  Confronted with seemingly certain mutilation, Andrews decided to confess. After all, I can survive against Aerotec and friends if I have all of his fingers right? “Alright, so I do know about what you’re talking about, but I am not privy to the details of where Culloch’s family is. All I know is that Alfred Mana works logistics for some sort of prison project Aerotec has out west, past the air barrier. You’d be mad to try to assault that without a freaking army, or some sort of armed craft. I should know, Alfred’s hired my services to provide entertainment for said prison. It’s only a mile west of the mine, but there’s a tunnel on level ten that leads right to it. Is that what you want from me?"

  Jack continued with the blank and emotionless stares as if he was a robot taking in sensory data. Andrews began to plead for his life, "Listen I can give you hookers and all the drugs you’ll ever need if you don’t mention a wo-” Before Andrews could finish, Jack pulled out his pistol and shot him in the head at point-blank range. The corrupt chief's body rocked back in the chair, dead on the spot.

  Sirens began to blare while Jack grabbed an extra uniform out of the office closet, being careful not to step in the growing puddle of blood. He managed to escape through the front door before anyone was able to figure out what the gunshot even was, much less where it had come from.

  ...

  Meanwhile, Stan and Val had made it out of the used vehicle dealership with an old truck that was adapted for use on Mars and made of actual steel, was airtight, and had an optional hardpoint for an oxygen generator. Clearly, it had been built before they had figured out how to contain the oxygen produced for New Columbia.

  Val spoke while the truck rumbled down the roads of New Columbia, “Stan, I think this thing should be able to carry everything we need it to in one trip. The printer, what’s left of our food, and our beds.”

  Stan chuckled, back to his jolly self. “Ah yes, Val! It is a very glorious truck, fit for a czar! It is good to have a vehicle again. And spending most of my time with you and Jack has managed to improve my English. I’m sure you miss the old broken accent.”

  Val chuckled, taking note of it for the first time, “Stan, as entertaining as your broken English was, I’m happy with whatever works best for you. Let’s get work.” They pulled into the apartment, and soon everything was loaded up, including Maria.

  A few minutes after arriving at the warehouse, Stan brought up the topic of equipment, “Now, we are going to need more things, most notably weapons and a camera or three. I know enough about cameras to work one for the propaganda arm, but we are going to want to bring more people in soon. That is why we have Home One now. Val, you and Maria work on getting the office space set up, and I will go out to find us some weapons. How does that sound?”

  “That’s fine Stan, hopefully Jack will be back soon and he can- wait. He isn’t gonna know where we’re at. That’s… not good.” Val laughed at their idiocy, “Well I’ll tell him that when he calls.”

  “Actually, Val, I’ll go pick him up. He knows to go to one of our rendezvous points. Don’t worry about it, but we aren’t transmitting the location of this place by cell.” With that, Stan left in the truck after helping Val and Maria unload everything and move it to the office.

  ...

  Meanwhile, the Guard’s Post was descending into chaos. Sure, the hit on Culloch a few weeks ago was bad, but they hadn’t attempted anything so brazen. Guards were sent out into the communities to see if they could catch anyone, but it was a lost cause. Calls were made, and Jack just sat in a cafe in one of the many open markets, drinking a coffee and reveling in how well it had gone. He began contemplating how he, Stan, and Val would make their next move. Most of the suppliers were in the Inner City, and as long as they were alive drugs and slaves would keep flowing into communities. Most of the lower men in the organization were directly bankrolled by Aerotec, and after this they might have protection put on them.

  The only true solution would be to destroy Aerotec as a whole, to purge the entire company of foul seed, but that would never happen. So they had to be smart. Stan’s truck pulled in, and a few minutes later he and Jack were in the truck and rolling down the road towards the new safehouse.

  “So Jack, did everything go off without a hitch?” Stan asked, happy to have his friend back.

  “More or less so Stan, I had a little trouble navigating the place, and a low-level officer saw my face, so they’ll have a rough description of me -maybe even some pictures from the cameras- but nothing definite enough to kill me unless they sic a gang on me. Other than that, it went flawlessly. I even have a list of potential targets, which means we need to make more flyers,” Jack responded, ecstatic with how well this went.

  “Good, we have managed to acquire a sizable warehouse, plenty large enough for the raising of a small army, even if it is very small. We could use it as a training ground and base, or find suits and train in no man’s land. But anyway, it is a good place, and we will be very well off there. The purchase won’t be able to be traced, and no one knows that our personal angel of death resides there. It will be grand!”

  And everything was grand, for now. Over the next three weeks, it would be mostly peaceful, and more people would come to inhabit the warehouse, notably Dale and about ten workers from the mines. They hadn’t just been put on hold from the mine, they had been fired, and as a final act, Dale had brought them with him after weeks of nothing. There were at least 40 more who were still employed, and most of them were receptive to the idea of revolution. The American Province was becoming a keg, slowly filling with powder.

  Or it was until people began disappearing in the night.

  Chapter 17

  “They call it the Inquisition,” Jack spoke slowly and morosely with his comrades gathered around him in a semicircle. Dale, Stan, Val, and the ten recruits were all here. For all they knew, they were the last of the Resistance as well. Two weeks after Jack’s assassination of Sergeant Andrews, a new faction had appeared in New Columbia’s Outer City. Large humanoid entities dressed in all-black dusters and soulless helmets that obscured everything about them, they spoke with almost robotic voices and carried stun batons and pistols. And they were hunters. Now, a week later, it was past time to act.

  “From what we can gather, the Inquisition is either a group that is fanatically loyal to Aerotec or they are Aerotec’s version of the Gestapo. After their arrival, people who are suspected to be rebellious have been kidnapped and taken to who knows where. It is entirely likely that we brought this on ourselves by trying to overthrow Aerotec, but we cannot let them break us. If we turn back now, they will crush us under an even harsher hand, one not made of iron, but made of blood and steel. Our blood. They will brutally crush us if we give in to them. So we won’t, we'll either overthrow Aerotec or die trying. These Inquisitors will not break us. We will not count days and we will not count weeks, we will count the people we bring to our side, we will count the number of Aerotec pigs that we have killed, and we will count the number of people we have liberated. We do not stop here!”

  Jack’s voice rose above the whisper it had been, desperately trying to fill the hearts of the gathered people with fire.

  “We have suffered enough under their tyrannical fist! Do you think that by surrendering now the Inquisitors will go away? No! The Inquisition is now Aerotec’s de facto police force. They exist only to terrorize us and to rob us of hope. So we will give the people something to believe in. We have weapons, yes, but more importantly we have an iron will. We will not bow to Aerotec! I know where they are taking the prisoners, I know the names and faces of the people funneling drugs into our communities, the people kidnapping our families and selling them to be used, and the people who are deliberately destroying our communities."

  Jack paused for a single moment, and the Resistance knew that there was only one way to save their people. Jack spoke, his voice booming in the cavernous warehouse, "And we will destroy them. Aerotec is not the only one who can purge a community o
f evil. If we’re evil to them, then their businesses are from hell itself. We will survive this, and we will prosper!”

  The resistance cheered, even though in all honesty it was a pathetically small resistance. The only thing they had to do was restore the flame to the coals, and the people of New Columbia would fight back. They all knew this in their hearts.

  Jack quieted the crowd and transitioned to the plan that he, Stan, and Val had, “We need two teams of five to distribute propaganda tonight. We have to convince people that we still exist and that we are stronger than ever. Each of you will carry a weapon, and two of you have to be dedicated to distribution while the rest of you guard each other. You will go east and west. If the Inquisitors try to stop you, kill them and run. Run together, raise hell. Morningstar and Siren will accompany you. I have important business to attend to that ought to help us. I wish you all the best of luck. Captains, gather your soldiers and get to work."

  Jack stepped down off of the puny stage, grabbing a larger backpack that was stuffed to the brim with something before he quickly departed. It was going to be a long day and an even harder night. Stan and Val gathered their teams while gathering backpacks full of flyers and pouches of ammo. They were both on the same mission, in a way, but Jack was heading toward the lion’s den: The Inner City…

  Val took her team west, towards the mine and lower-income communities, essentially the wasteland Aerotec had created, while Stan went northward, towards the Russian Prospect, though he would stay within American borders since the flyers were printed in English.

  …

  Meanwhile, Jack was trekking back to the dividing line of apartments on the border with the Inner City, their glistening white walls in continued stark contrast to the grime of the outer city, rising above it like a glittering oppressor.

  He made his way to the apartment building where he had assassinated Darren Farrows three weeks prior and walked toward the alleyway. The Inquisition was only out and about at night, so he had made it this far unharmed. Jack darted into the alley and located a fire escape. His face was fully covered with a bandana, hood, and sunglasses, so any cameras there might be were mostly negated. Sure, they could analyze his gait later, but it didn’t matter right now. He found a way up onto the fire escape and from there onto the roof, where he ran over to the edge. Jack quickly pulled out a rolled-up flag and laid it at the edge of the roof, the edge of it hanging off. Once he pressed a button the flag would unfurl, if the wind didn’t do it for him.

  ...

  Meanwhile, Val was moving with her men through the western boroughs and districts, handing out flyers and nailing them to unoccupied walls. She had just arrived at a new house and begun nailing a flyer to the door when Richard, one of the new recruits, shouted something about Inquisitors.

  “What was that Richard?” She turned around just as the first gun went off. A bullet whistled by her head and flattened itself against the frame of the door. Soon, the Resistance and Inquisitors were caught up in a firefight, and most of the resistance soldiers hunkered behind whatever cover they could find, firing quickly and inaccurately, this being their first real taste of combat of any kind.

  ...

  Jack had jumped over the gap between the apartment buildings and was setting up the last flag on the other side of the central highway. He finished up by installing the deployment bar and was just moving away when he heard a faint buzzing sound. He looked around and quickly realized that it was a drone that was hovering about 10 meters away from him off the edge of the roof.

  It also had a voice module, because Jack was suddenly being spoken to by a robotic voice, “Cabe, John, cease your actions now. You are under arrest for vandalism. Place your hands behind your back, or be neutralized.” It didn’t speak in a blocky, almost adorable voice, but more like a deep monotone.

  And Jack wasn’t having any of it, “The hell I am, you can tell Aerotec to jump off of a cliff, droid.” Jack put his hand to his hip, where it hovered over his revolver.

  ...

  Valerie fired shot after shot at the black-robed inquisitors from behind a rubbish bin, hoping beyond hope that everyone was going to be alright. She heard one of her men, Johnson, cry out then go quiet. Val looked over and saw him lying in a growing pool of blood. She died a little inside but returned her attention to the battle at hand. There were about five Inquisitors left, all of whom slowly advancing on the rebels’ positions.

  The pain Val felt for the death of Johnson turned into flaming wrath as another bullet narrowly missed her head, “You bastards! I’ll kill every last one of you! You killed Johnson, and for that, you’ll pay!” She jumped out from behind the trash bin and fired her gun in a maddened rage.

  ...

  The Aerotec drone fired a warning shot that buzzed past Jack’s ear, and Jack bolted in the direction of the next rooftop. The drone called out after him, its modulators increasing in volume, “Halt, or I will be forced to use lethal force. I am programmed in thousands of techniques for search and apprehension. You will not evade me for very long.”

  Jack just snorted as he jumped the gap onto another building, but the hyper-accurate drone fired at him while he was mid-air. The bullet struck, causing Jack to recoil in pain, perhaps fatally disrupting his trajectory.

  ...

  Val was standing over the corpses of the Inquisitors. Or they ought to be corpses, but they didn’t bleed, or they didn't bleed blood. They were dead, certainly, but… Were they even alive in the first place? “Alright, I know we have wounded, but we need to figure out just what the Inquisition is. Let’s take them to the mine, while she spoke, her mind raced with itself. Maybe they’re androids? Terminators? It would certainly explain their robotic voices, but they moved so fluidly… She continued, “Luckily, most people don’t question large groups carrying heavy weaponry, so we ought to be able to take these things down into one of the abandoned mine shafts, just in case they have location transponders or something.” Val radioed Stan and told him to meet her at the mine if possible, and her group lugged the “leader” of the Inquisition agents to the mine.

  ...

  Jack crashed through the window of an apartment adjacent to the roof he had jumped off of and was now caught in a firefight with a single drone. How in the hell does a drone make a shot most people can’t? Jack was hunkered behind a family sofa and had pulled out his revolver and a pile of shotgun shells. He fired as fast as he could and didn’t stop until he couldn’t hear the drone buzzing. That wasn’t going to be the end of this, not by a long shot. Luckily, the flag deployment bars were camouflaged enough that they would just look like another piece of the roof. The drone only knew about vandalism because Jack had thought to bring a can of spray paint and be an idiot. Oh well. Jack burst through the door of the apartment and right into the Inquisition…

  Chapter 18

  Jack leveled his revolver at the nearest Inquisition officer and fired the buckshot round directly into its face. He wasn’t going to be walking out of here alive, at least not with five Inquisitors lining the hall. Jack quickly dashed back inside the apartment and dashed to cover. He needed to find a way out, and quickly unless he wanted Inquisition reinforcements believing him.

  Jack's thoughts raced in an internal battle, but he finally came to a conclusion: I blame the drone, end of the story. Suddenly, Jack thought of an insane, almost suicidal, idea.

  ...

  Stan and Valerie stood in an abandoned storage room of sorts in the upper level of the mine. In front of them, the Inquisitor unit lay deactivated, its cold metal corpse resting against a crate.

  Stan pleaded with Val, knowing the full extent of the situation, “Come on Val we should be going. It is not good idea to stick around near cybernetically enhanced soldiers, even if they are ‘dead’," Stan was concerned, and an uneasy sense of dread came over him, "It might have transponder, and we can’t sit around while it broadcasts our location to its masters.”

  Val snorted, still a little high off of the rush f
rom the firefight, even if she had lost a man. The seriousness of the situation hadn’t hit her yet, and when it did it’d be a trainwreck.

  “Seriously Val, we need to be going, I know we sent the boys back, but- do you hear that?” The faint sound of boots could be heard echoing through the tunnel. Stan grabbed his gun off of his hip, “We need to go. Shoot the robot in the head and scramble whatever’s left, let's get out of here.”

  ...

  Jack found himself climbing across a pane of broken glass, with his hands on the ledge above him and his legs dangling over nine stories of nothing.

  This was a terrible ideaaaaaaa. He screamed internally, every instinct in his body burning with regret. He pulled himself up, barely able to find a grip on the smooth surface of the apartment building. But he did manage to make it up to the roof of the building before the Inquisition could realize he wasn’t in the room below any longer. He ran across the gravel of the roof and leapt across the gap to the next building. He made his way to a fire escape, and disappeared into the outer city once again, dashing into an alley.

  ...

  Stan and Val made their way out of the storage room and rushed down the hall towards the office hoping to beat the Inquisitors -or whoever it was- to the exit. They made it about halfway to the door before an explosion thundered behind them, an explosion that was soon followed by the rushing of boots.

  “Stan, I think we need to rush a bit. That came from behind us,” Val mumbled, finally flying into a panic.

  “Agreed, run,” Stan tore his rifle from its sling on his back and walked with his back to Valerie while keeping the gun's sights focused on the tunnel. Val held her pistol in front of her as she ran just in case any unexpected visitors blocked her way. They both prayed that they wouldn’t die before seeing the sunlight one last time.

 

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