The food prices and the fees for electricity,
heating and water had steadily been raised since 2018.
heating and water had steadily been raised since 2018.
Orwell - 1984
Several dozens of security men and
politicians were torn to pieces, among them also Leon-Jack
Wechsler. Asphalt pieces, concrete, splinters of wood and
body parts rained down.
Where the governor had spoken a few seconds ago, a
smoking abyss had been torn into the ground. Mangled
corpses and wreckage covered the place.
Frank and Alf ran still faster. The deafening blast of the
explosion had shaken the tunnel system of Paris to the last
corner. For both men, it was the second starting shot and
they were close to loose their nerves.
"Victory! I can't believe it! We have really done it! ", gasped
Frank and sped forward. He had almost slipped to the
ground, but Alf could still hold him. "Run! "
179
The people were quiet for a short moment, when they
perceived the end of the governor on the video screens.
Policemen and soldiers were shocked and looked around,
full of horror and confusion.
A swarm of journalists and cameramen, that had stood in
front of the stage had also been shredded by the explosion.
Some had immediately been dead, others had been hurled
away several meters and were lying on the ground, with torn
limbs, screaming and bleeding.
Their colleagues who were filming the event from the
distance, suddenly pointed their cameras at the bloody
scenario. The terror had come over the square in front of
the "Temple of the Tolerance", paralyzing the gawking
crowd for a while.
Nevertheless, the brains of the people slowly processed the
new situation and, above all, the security forces tried to
react quickly on the unexpected bomb strike. Radiograms
reached the policemen and soldiers, hastily and nervously
yelled commands and orders. Some officers were sent to
the canalization to look what had happened.
Shortly afterwards, a dozen men climbed into the hole.
Others were called to the nearby gully covers. The fact that
so many manhole covers around the square had been weld
shut by the policemen, made them problems now. They all
had to be levered up, what caused a long delay.
After a while, some of the officers entered the tangle of
sewer corridors and tried to find suspicious persons. Their
calls and the sound of their heavy boots echoed through the
tunnels.
The two bombers were already far away now and passed
the dug hole, which led to the abandoned metro tunnel.
Despite the red signs on the walls, they selected the wrong
corridor and lost a few minutes of precious time. Dozens of
180
police officers already followed them, but they were still far
away. The panicky rebels cursed and became even more
nervous now.
"I. . . I just pushed over the edge! Sorry, Alf! That was the
wrong way! ", said Frank, gasping for breath and sweating.
"Yes, all right. I had sprayed these crosses on the walls,
exactly for that fucking reason, man! ", hissed Alf and waved
his friend nearer.
They found one of Alf s marks and Kohlhaas opened the
digital map on his DS-Stick with nervous fingers: "The first
storage room we had found is not far! "
They crept forward to the exit, while the inner tension slowly
became unbearable. But this they were on the right way.
Nevertheless, they still had to traverse a lot of long and dark
sewer corridors. They cautiously crept in the direction of the
storage room with the basin - it had to be at the end of this
passage. Both men just used one single flashlight now, to
cause not too much light. Frank did not dare to think, what
would happen if suddenly some policemen would stand in
front of them.
The two rebels silently scurried forward. Now they could see
a strange blaze at the end of the dirty sewer corridor. They
paused and tried to recognize something. Frank caught his
breath.
Someone had turned on one of the old lamps in the room
with the basins. The usual darkness which had always
protected them had vanished now. With careful movements,
they stalked through the tunnel. Frank crept to the end of
the sewer corridor and cowered there. Then he peered
around the corner. There was nobody. The room seemed to
be empty. A moment after, the young rebel turned around to
Alf and waved him nearer. "We have to pass this room!
Then we can hide again in the narrow tunnels", whispered
Frank and felt out his gun.
181
"But who has turned on that light? ", hissed Alf nervously.
"Damn! You ask the wrong person! Come on now! ", said
Kohlhaas.
They crawled forward and entered the daunting room.
Behind the pool edge of the water basin, they crept into the
dimness. Suddenly the heard voices and the patter of steps
with heavy boots. Frank coughed into his breathing mask
which was meanwhile wet and dirty. His heart seemed to
explode. Alf stared at him with an appalled face and
swallowed quietly.
"Come on! Here! ", it resounded out of a sewer tunnel. The
light cones of two flashlights danced forth out of the dark
hole.
"Maybe here is someone! ", they heard, while the steps
came nearer.
Frank tried to calm himself, in these seconds of highest
tension.
"If we shoot them, we will just make a lot of noise. That
would attract only more of them", he whispered and Alf
regarded him with fear in his eyes.
"We are fucked up, my friend! ", said Baumer with an almost
whining undertone.
"Into the basin! Come on! ", hissed Frank and climbed quietly
over the pool edge. Alfred followed him without saying a
word. Like two otters, they smoothed into the repulsive pond
that seemed to be deep enough to hide. Kohlhaas touched
his combat knife and Alf desperatly looked in his direction.
The steps were now in close proximity and both rebels took
a deep breath full of stench. Then they disappeared into the
brackish water.
Frank closed his eyes and tried to think about nothing. This
was really perverse, but it was better than to be dead.
Suddenly, a blaze touched the water surface, otherwise it
182
was just dark and Frank tried not to think about all the things
that could be in this ugly swill.
"Come on, check this reservoir room! ", it resounded through
the brackish water. Now they recognized two policemen.
One of the officers walked around the basin and illuminated
the dark corners of the room, then he went to the next
sewer tunnel.
The time appeared endless and Frank slowy became
queasy, he was close to vomit into the stinky water. Alf felt
the same. Meanwhile, the policeman muttered some
unintelligible fragments of words into his radio. Frank
emerged for a second to breathe some air and heard the
officer say something.
"I must get out of this shit! ", he thought to himself, but the
policeman was still waiting beside the basin. A moment
after, he walked through the room, around the basin, and
finally leaned against the pool edge.
The two rebels tried to communicate by gestures or looks,
but the water was so dirty and dark that this was impossible.
Now, Frank decided to act on his own.
The policeman was still standing at the opposite end of the
pool, leaning against the basin's edge and talking with his
colleague, who had obviously gone into another sewer
corridor. "Did you find something? "
"Only rat shit here! ", it came back with a laughter.
Kohlhaas could not understand anything else. Only God
knew, where these two policemen came from. Anyhow, they
were no Frenchmen. The officer in front of Frank seemed to
be Hispanic or something like that.
Kohlhaas quietly moved below the surface and dived
through the dirty water to the edge of the basin like an eel.
As long as the officer was in this position, and the other one
was somewhere in a tunnel, he had to act. The young man
took his combat knife, pulled it out of the sheath and waited
183
for a few seconds, while the officer was mumbling
something into his radio. The rucksack on Frank's back
which had been freed of its deadly cargo bugged him now,
because it hampered his movements. Kohlhaas felt like a
crocodile that had waited for the gazelle all day long. And
the gazelle had come to the border of his realm to drink. He
pushed himself off the floor of the basin and jumped up to
the pool edge.
The sudden sound of splattering water behind him let the
policeman turn around with surprise. The officer tried to
release the safety catch of his machine gun, but Frank was
faster.
Kohlhaas rammed his knife deeply into the cop's neck and
jumped on the ground beside the water basin. His opponent
gasped for breath and stumbled back in confusion.
Frank grabbed the man and pressed his hand on the
officer's mouth, so that he could not make too much noise.
Meanwhile, Alf had also climbed out of the basin and held
his combat knife nervously in his hand.
"Unnnghh! " The injured policeman lurched and Frank
rammed his blade again into the neck of his enemy, while
he pulled the man to the ground. The cop still fidgeted and
tried to shake off his attacker. Suddenly Baumer came from
the front and knifed the officer too.
The policeman finally collapsed and gave up his resistance.
Both men pulled his heavy body some meters away and let
him lie in a corner. Then they heard the voice of the other
cop who called again something out of a sewer tunnel and
seemed to return. Frank and Alf rebels had to disappear
now, as fast as possible, before he would find his dead
colleague.
For their luck, the way out of this room had remained in their
minds, although they still were totally confused. They ran
into a dark tunnel and made off. Some minutes later they
184
heard a loud scream behind them. Probably the other
policeman had now realized that the room with the water
basin had not been empty. The two men ran and ran and
finally reached the exit. As fast as they could, they left the
canalization behind them. Wet, smelly and blood-smeared,
they crept to the surface. Frank and Alf hastily put on their
jackets to hide the conspicuous bloodstains on their clothes.
The two bombers breathed again and enjoyed a fresh
breeze of air. They just could not believe it! They had made
that bombing and the police did not catch them - so far.
Now they only had to reach their car to escape from the
metropolis, which slowly fell into chaos.
Shortly afterwards, the two assassins hastened through the
streets. They were hardly regarded, because around them
Paris became a huge boiler full of rage and confusion.
Groups of people had gathered everywhere, men and
women ran across the streets, cars honked and they heard
the voice of an excited newscaster out of the window of a
house. The bombing had shocked the whole city - just as
they had planned it.
Frank and Alf fastly ran forward and nobody paid attention
to them. After a while they had reached the side street, in
which they had parked their car. It had not been stolen or
broken up in the time of their absence - and this was not
self-evident in these days.
They finally exchanged their filthy and dirty clothes with
some new dresses that had still been in the trunk. Frank
threw the dirty clothes into a garbage can, started the
engine and drove away. It trip lasted, because many streets
were closed off or were clogged with people. It was nerve-
racking, but finally they reached one of the streets which led
them out of the boiling city.
185
Paris slowly disappeared behind them, Frank and Alf
pausend for breath. Steffen de Vries had already landed in
Compiegne at the arranged meeting place and was
nervously waiting for their arrival. While time passed, the
Belgian felt more and more uncomfortable. But Kohlhaas
and Baumer finally reached the small village near
Compiegne. Now they could return to Ivas. Before the take-
off, they freed their hire car of its vehicle number and
burned it in the forest, hidden from any curious views.
The car was totally destroyed and no one would ever be
able to identify the wreck. When they welcomed the Belgian,
he was more than impressed with their success, and he was
also more than relieved at the same time.
Steffen de Vries shook their hands and was absolutely
amazed. The radio had already informed him about the
situation in Paris since the bombing. Perfectly exhausted,
Frank and Alf climbed into the airplane. Shortly afterwards,
they left "Central Europe".
In the former capital of France, the situation had meanwhile
become dramatically acute. After the crowd had seen the
end of the governor on the numerous video screens, a
strange and confusing silence had ruled the "Avenue of
Humanity" for several minutes. Many people had not been
able to handle with the unforeseen event.
The security forces admonished the crowd to remain quiet,
while tanks threateningly rolled out of the side streets
towards the cooking human pulp. After a while, one heard
the first spectators approvingly yelling and clapping their
hands. The crowd was moved by a tumultuous unrest and
more and more people started to laugh and shout.
"Thank God! That pig is dead! ", screamed a group of men
somewhere in the giant throng. In that moment, the
186
shouters ignored the fact that they were all filmed by GSA
agents.
"This would also be the right end for the World President! ",
yelled another man at the top of his lungs.
Then still more people began to shout things like this. Some
young men stamped their feet and sang the forbidden
national anthem of old France. Many of the persons
standing around them joined the singing, although a lot of
people no longer knew the correct text, because the song
had been forbidden by the new rulers.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
A choir came from the rear part of the crowd and the shouts
were carried by more and more people. Hundreds joined the
furious screaming and soon the "Avenue of Humanity"
quaked under the roar of countless Parisians. It was a
strange picture, this huge crowd, clogging the streets and
slowly getting out of control.
The faces of many people were lined with pain. Millions of
Parisians lived a life full of sorrow, poverty and perpetual
insecurity. Therefore, it was no wonder that the displeasure
had grown inside them in the last years.
Meanwhile, a big part of the population of Paris consisted of
badly paid workers and peons. The salaries were usually
that small that one just did not starve and was able to pay
the high rents for the shabby dwellings.
Many of the people here knew the gnaw feeling of an empty
stomach.
The food prices and the fees for electricity,
heating and water had steadily been raised since 2018.
Hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of the city had already
fallen through the welfare net and had become street
people. Sometimes, they just froze to death in the winters.
This was the sad truth about the "new world". There was
also no longer a social welfare system, because the World
187
Government had abolished it as a result of the high public
debt. All this was a good hotbed for a revolt. But even now,
many people did not dare to protest. They were still
intimidated and tried to hide somewhere among the others.
They frightenedly looked at the surveillance cameras that
were situated everywhere. Some of them even sneaked
away from the avenue and went to the side streets. So the
crowd broke up into a submissive and a rebellious part in
the following hours.
Nevertheless, it was astonishing, how many citizens
suddenly had the courage to raise their voices. The
anonymity of the crowd seemed to fill them with bravery.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
The choir of desperate protest increased and became
gradually louder. Somewhere in the crowd, Frenchmen and
immigrants started to attack each other. The Moslems
screamed their own slogans, refering to Islam, which were
also hostile against the World Goverment. In the middle of
the mass began a riot. The angry people assaulted each
other with bottles, knifes and clubs. Even some shots could
be heard.
Policemen and GCF soldiers, who had meanwhile encircled
the crowd, flanked by tanks, threatened by loudspeakers to
immediately stop the antigovernmental shouts. But crowds
have their own dynamics. So is the single man mostly
cowardly and obsequious, but as a part of a mass he
sometimes becomes a hero.
The orders of the officers were ignored, and after a short
time, policemen, soldiers, GSA observers and the crowd
opposed each other like two warring armies.
188
Now the GP-squadleaders yelled the order to "catch
seditious people in the crowd" into their radios and groups
of officers with heavy body armor clubbed their way through
the mob to get all those, who had been idenitfied by the
GSA agents. Finally, the situation escalated more and more.
The policemen were welcomed with bottles, cobblestones or
even bare fists, while they uncontrollably beat everyone
down who stood in their way. Nevertheless, the screaming
of the mass became louder, despite their brutality.
Yes, the more people were cut down by the clubs of the
cops, the more people joined the chorus of protest at other
places in the giant sea of humans.
On 03. 01. 2029 at 18. 00 o'clock, the first Molotov cocktails
towrads policemen and tanks in a side street of the "Avenue
of Humanity". The GP's immediately returned fire and
riddled the attackers with bullets.
In return, some Parisians armed themselves with clubs,
knifes, axes and even guns. Now the violence expanded
like a plague, seizing thousands of people along the
"Avenue of Humanity".
The warnings, the police officers were shouting, were not
noticed anymore by the raging crowd and the mass
answered with the old French national anthem.
The forbidden song became a surging wave of emotions
and shook the mass from one end to the other. The old
ground of the boulevard trembled under the loud sound of
the outlawed hymn. Something, the former capital of France
had not seen since decades.
The tanks finally came closer and the GCF soldiers and
policemen took positions. It lasted only a few minutes until
the GCF commander gave the order to shoot the people
down. The bloodbath started.
189
While the mass was singing the strictly forbidden old hymn
in perfect harmony, and a surprising great number of people
could still remember the text, the first gunshots resounded
over the avenue.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! "
The noise of gunfire increased and hundreds of men and
women broke down. Then a terrible hail of bullets swept
through the front ranks behind the barriers - all the
policemen and soldiers began to fire now. The tanks moved
forward and pointed their heavy machine guns at the
numerous targets.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! ", it echoed over the avenue which was
allegedly dedicated to humanity. The salvos of assault rifles
cut hundreds of people down like a huge scythe. Finally the
crowd fell into panic. The old French national anthem lapsed
inot silence and was exchanged with the terrified cries of the
people.
The soldiers and policemen could hardly miss their
countless targets and they did their job, following the orders
of their commanders and were killing without mercy.
Most of them were no Frenchmen, and if they were attacked
by this crowd in this foreign land, they just had to put down
the uprising. And they did it. Hundreds of corpses covered
the "Avenue of Humanity" after only a few minutes.
The security forces marched forward in a closed firing line
and shot their way through the sea of men, women and
children. In particular, the heavy full metal jacket bullets of
the tank guns were devastating. Soon the screaming crowd
fled in all directions. Fences were ripped down, cars were
overturned and the Parisians trampled each other to death.
Behind them, the soldiers and policeman marched over
countless dead bodies like a slowly moving wall of death.
Then the security forces got a new command. The unruly,
but unarmed crowd, had been driven back by them and
190
looked like the giant Persian army at the battle of
Gaugamela which had been defeated by the phalanx of
Alexander the Great. The policemen, soldiers and tanks
stopped.
"The Skydragons are coming! Stop! ", shouted one of the
squad leaders into his radio and wiped off the sweat from
his brow. The killing work had been exhausting.
Orders were given and the dreaded helicopters, coming
from a nearby military base in the west of Paris, came from
the sky. Shortly afterwards, the pilots of the Skydragons
saw nothing but a swarm of frightened ants, fleeing through
the streets.
Finally, the helicopters reduced their altitude and made their
gatling machine guns and their grenade launchers ready to
fire.
"Okay! We just wait for your orders! ", said the commander
of the Skydragon squadron to his higher officer.
"What are you waiting for? Fire! ", screamed the superior.
The pilot of the helicopter hesitated for some seconds, as if
he would think about that, what he should do now. In the
end, he simply said to himself that this was his "job" which
had to be done.
He was from Uzbekistan, with Russian ancestors, and his
name was Alexander. Meanhwile, the young man was a
soldier of the GFC since three years, and this was the first
time he had got the order to kill unarmed civilians.
Alexander tried to ignore it.
"If I wouldn't do it, another man would. . . ", he excused his
acting in front of himself.
Nevertheless, the payment for GCF soldiers was good -
and he had to feed a wife and three children. Apart from
that, every job had its dark sides. This was just the way of
the world. Now the automated target aquisition showed him
a great number of people. He stopped thinking and started
191
to fire. It became a massacre. The heavy bullets of the
Skydragons smashed flesh and bones. Countless hit people
collapsed below the helicopters, screaming, crying, dying,
tumbling on the asphalt. Skulls were shredded and bodies
were mangled by this murderous blaze of gunfire. The
slaughter almost lasted one hour.
There was no escape for those who were caught by the
automated target aquisiation. Where the Skydragons had
raged, a cruel picture remained. Innumerable bodies were
covering the blood-soaked streets of Paris.
Alexander, the family father, recognized a man in the corner
of his eye. His head was torn, while he still tried to creep
forward, pulling a bloody trace over the street. It was
horrible. The Russian was shaken by doubts again, but he
finally suppressed them. It had to be done, it was an order,
and his only choice was to kill. Then he kept on shooting at
the ants, down there on the ground.
While policemen, soldiers and tanks were called to other
parts of Paris, in order to eliminate insurgents, the day came
to an end.
But the riots still lasted for two further weeks. Many
discontented Parisians attacked the local police stations in
their districts or assaulted local politicians. The head
administrator of Paris, Richard de la Croix, was shot in the
open street by an unknown man. Burning cars and houses,
firing tanks and policemen, ruled the street picture in many
parts of the furious metropolis for days.
But in the end the order was restored. This time, the Lodge
Brothers who frequently used the lie as a their weapon, had
consulted its brother: the terror. And he was successful.
Even the bravest man was powerless against the unlimited
inconsiderateness of the security forces in the long term.
About 40000 people died in the riots and street fights on
01. 03. 2029, and in the following weeks. Moreover, several
192
hundred policemen and GCF soldiers were killed. Paris had
been drowned in blood. Now it was over. . .
193
With him
It was already late. Mr. Morris, 56 years old and one of the
secretaries of the World President, had to hurry. This
appointment was extremely important. His taxi had
struggled through the jammed streets, from the airport of
New York to the inner city. However, time really pressed
now. Mr. Morris scurried through the big entrance door of a
gigantic skyscraper and ran to the lift. The beheld his watch
and became nervous. But in the end he reached the 33.
floor of the building just in time. . .
"Come in, Mr. Morris! ", called somebody out of a luxurious
office room on the uppermost floor of the skyscraper.
"Good afternoon, Mr. World President! ", said the man with
the gray temples and the just as gray suit, smiling unsteadily
and submissively. His interlocutor stared out the window
down at the streets of the New York and did not turn
around.
"I have the newest internal messages from Paris. . . ", said
Morris excitedly.
"Aha! ", returned the World President.
"Yes, the situation has become acute, as the GSA men
have told me! ", gasped the older gentleman, totally
exhausted.
"Really? ", asked his boss.
"Yes, Mr. World President! Confidential studies. . . ",
explained Morris, but he was interrupted.
"Where is your place in our great organization, Mr. Morris? ",
interrogated the World President and still stared at the
hectic tangle of cars and people between the bulky bank
houses of New York's inner city.
194
"I beg your pardon, Sir! ", replied the confused secretary, still
standing beside the door.
"Which lodge, Mr. Morris? ", clarified the president.
„Eh! I'm a fellow of the "Sons of the Mountain", Sir! The
lodge is called "Sons of the Mountain". . . San Francisco, Mr.
World President! ", stammered Morris baffledly.
"Grade? ", muttered the man in front of the window.
"Eh, I'm in the 4th grade, Sir! That's all I have achieved until
now, Sir! ", stuttered the secretary.
"Well, perhaps that is enough for you, Mr. Morris! "
"I wanted to talk about Paris. . . ", said the servant, but he was
interrupted again.
"Sons of the Mountain"? One of my nephews is also there! ",
whispered the World President.
His secretary tried to direct the conversatrion on the
incidents in Paris, but the World President just groaned and
ordered him to stop talking about these things.
politicians were torn to pieces, among them also Leon-Jack
Wechsler. Asphalt pieces, concrete, splinters of wood and
body parts rained down.
Where the governor had spoken a few seconds ago, a
smoking abyss had been torn into the ground. Mangled
corpses and wreckage covered the place.
Frank and Alf ran still faster. The deafening blast of the
explosion had shaken the tunnel system of Paris to the last
corner. For both men, it was the second starting shot and
they were close to loose their nerves.
"Victory! I can't believe it! We have really done it! ", gasped
Frank and sped forward. He had almost slipped to the
ground, but Alf could still hold him. "Run! "
179
The people were quiet for a short moment, when they
perceived the end of the governor on the video screens.
Policemen and soldiers were shocked and looked around,
full of horror and confusion.
A swarm of journalists and cameramen, that had stood in
front of the stage had also been shredded by the explosion.
Some had immediately been dead, others had been hurled
away several meters and were lying on the ground, with torn
limbs, screaming and bleeding.
Their colleagues who were filming the event from the
distance, suddenly pointed their cameras at the bloody
scenario. The terror had come over the square in front of
the "Temple of the Tolerance", paralyzing the gawking
crowd for a while.
Nevertheless, the brains of the people slowly processed the
new situation and, above all, the security forces tried to
react quickly on the unexpected bomb strike. Radiograms
reached the policemen and soldiers, hastily and nervously
yelled commands and orders. Some officers were sent to
the canalization to look what had happened.
Shortly afterwards, a dozen men climbed into the hole.
Others were called to the nearby gully covers. The fact that
so many manhole covers around the square had been weld
shut by the policemen, made them problems now. They all
had to be levered up, what caused a long delay.
After a while, some of the officers entered the tangle of
sewer corridors and tried to find suspicious persons. Their
calls and the sound of their heavy boots echoed through the
tunnels.
The two bombers were already far away now and passed
the dug hole, which led to the abandoned metro tunnel.
Despite the red signs on the walls, they selected the wrong
corridor and lost a few minutes of precious time. Dozens of
180
police officers already followed them, but they were still far
away. The panicky rebels cursed and became even more
nervous now.
"I. . . I just pushed over the edge! Sorry, Alf! That was the
wrong way! ", said Frank, gasping for breath and sweating.
"Yes, all right. I had sprayed these crosses on the walls,
exactly for that fucking reason, man! ", hissed Alf and waved
his friend nearer.
They found one of Alf s marks and Kohlhaas opened the
digital map on his DS-Stick with nervous fingers: "The first
storage room we had found is not far! "
They crept forward to the exit, while the inner tension slowly
became unbearable. But this they were on the right way.
Nevertheless, they still had to traverse a lot of long and dark
sewer corridors. They cautiously crept in the direction of the
storage room with the basin - it had to be at the end of this
passage. Both men just used one single flashlight now, to
cause not too much light. Frank did not dare to think, what
would happen if suddenly some policemen would stand in
front of them.
The two rebels silently scurried forward. Now they could see
a strange blaze at the end of the dirty sewer corridor. They
paused and tried to recognize something. Frank caught his
breath.
Someone had turned on one of the old lamps in the room
with the basins. The usual darkness which had always
protected them had vanished now. With careful movements,
they stalked through the tunnel. Frank crept to the end of
the sewer corridor and cowered there. Then he peered
around the corner. There was nobody. The room seemed to
be empty. A moment after, the young rebel turned around to
Alf and waved him nearer. "We have to pass this room!
Then we can hide again in the narrow tunnels", whispered
Frank and felt out his gun.
181
"But who has turned on that light? ", hissed Alf nervously.
"Damn! You ask the wrong person! Come on now! ", said
Kohlhaas.
They crawled forward and entered the daunting room.
Behind the pool edge of the water basin, they crept into the
dimness. Suddenly the heard voices and the patter of steps
with heavy boots. Frank coughed into his breathing mask
which was meanwhile wet and dirty. His heart seemed to
explode. Alf stared at him with an appalled face and
swallowed quietly.
"Come on! Here! ", it resounded out of a sewer tunnel. The
light cones of two flashlights danced forth out of the dark
hole.
"Maybe here is someone! ", they heard, while the steps
came nearer.
Frank tried to calm himself, in these seconds of highest
tension.
"If we shoot them, we will just make a lot of noise. That
would attract only more of them", he whispered and Alf
regarded him with fear in his eyes.
"We are fucked up, my friend! ", said Baumer with an almost
whining undertone.
"Into the basin! Come on! ", hissed Frank and climbed quietly
over the pool edge. Alfred followed him without saying a
word. Like two otters, they smoothed into the repulsive pond
that seemed to be deep enough to hide. Kohlhaas touched
his combat knife and Alf desperatly looked in his direction.
The steps were now in close proximity and both rebels took
a deep breath full of stench. Then they disappeared into the
brackish water.
Frank closed his eyes and tried to think about nothing. This
was really perverse, but it was better than to be dead.
Suddenly, a blaze touched the water surface, otherwise it
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was just dark and Frank tried not to think about all the things
that could be in this ugly swill.
"Come on, check this reservoir room! ", it resounded through
the brackish water. Now they recognized two policemen.
One of the officers walked around the basin and illuminated
the dark corners of the room, then he went to the next
sewer tunnel.
The time appeared endless and Frank slowy became
queasy, he was close to vomit into the stinky water. Alf felt
the same. Meanwhile, the policeman muttered some
unintelligible fragments of words into his radio. Frank
emerged for a second to breathe some air and heard the
officer say something.
"I must get out of this shit! ", he thought to himself, but the
policeman was still waiting beside the basin. A moment
after, he walked through the room, around the basin, and
finally leaned against the pool edge.
The two rebels tried to communicate by gestures or looks,
but the water was so dirty and dark that this was impossible.
Now, Frank decided to act on his own.
The policeman was still standing at the opposite end of the
pool, leaning against the basin's edge and talking with his
colleague, who had obviously gone into another sewer
corridor. "Did you find something? "
"Only rat shit here! ", it came back with a laughter.
Kohlhaas could not understand anything else. Only God
knew, where these two policemen came from. Anyhow, they
were no Frenchmen. The officer in front of Frank seemed to
be Hispanic or something like that.
Kohlhaas quietly moved below the surface and dived
through the dirty water to the edge of the basin like an eel.
As long as the officer was in this position, and the other one
was somewhere in a tunnel, he had to act. The young man
took his combat knife, pulled it out of the sheath and waited
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for a few seconds, while the officer was mumbling
something into his radio. The rucksack on Frank's back
which had been freed of its deadly cargo bugged him now,
because it hampered his movements. Kohlhaas felt like a
crocodile that had waited for the gazelle all day long. And
the gazelle had come to the border of his realm to drink. He
pushed himself off the floor of the basin and jumped up to
the pool edge.
The sudden sound of splattering water behind him let the
policeman turn around with surprise. The officer tried to
release the safety catch of his machine gun, but Frank was
faster.
Kohlhaas rammed his knife deeply into the cop's neck and
jumped on the ground beside the water basin. His opponent
gasped for breath and stumbled back in confusion.
Frank grabbed the man and pressed his hand on the
officer's mouth, so that he could not make too much noise.
Meanwhile, Alf had also climbed out of the basin and held
his combat knife nervously in his hand.
"Unnnghh! " The injured policeman lurched and Frank
rammed his blade again into the neck of his enemy, while
he pulled the man to the ground. The cop still fidgeted and
tried to shake off his attacker. Suddenly Baumer came from
the front and knifed the officer too.
The policeman finally collapsed and gave up his resistance.
Both men pulled his heavy body some meters away and let
him lie in a corner. Then they heard the voice of the other
cop who called again something out of a sewer tunnel and
seemed to return. Frank and Alf rebels had to disappear
now, as fast as possible, before he would find his dead
colleague.
For their luck, the way out of this room had remained in their
minds, although they still were totally confused. They ran
into a dark tunnel and made off. Some minutes later they
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heard a loud scream behind them. Probably the other
policeman had now realized that the room with the water
basin had not been empty. The two men ran and ran and
finally reached the exit. As fast as they could, they left the
canalization behind them. Wet, smelly and blood-smeared,
they crept to the surface. Frank and Alf hastily put on their
jackets to hide the conspicuous bloodstains on their clothes.
The two bombers breathed again and enjoyed a fresh
breeze of air. They just could not believe it! They had made
that bombing and the police did not catch them - so far.
Now they only had to reach their car to escape from the
metropolis, which slowly fell into chaos.
Shortly afterwards, the two assassins hastened through the
streets. They were hardly regarded, because around them
Paris became a huge boiler full of rage and confusion.
Groups of people had gathered everywhere, men and
women ran across the streets, cars honked and they heard
the voice of an excited newscaster out of the window of a
house. The bombing had shocked the whole city - just as
they had planned it.
Frank and Alf fastly ran forward and nobody paid attention
to them. After a while they had reached the side street, in
which they had parked their car. It had not been stolen or
broken up in the time of their absence - and this was not
self-evident in these days.
They finally exchanged their filthy and dirty clothes with
some new dresses that had still been in the trunk. Frank
threw the dirty clothes into a garbage can, started the
engine and drove away. It trip lasted, because many streets
were closed off or were clogged with people. It was nerve-
racking, but finally they reached one of the streets which led
them out of the boiling city.
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Paris slowly disappeared behind them, Frank and Alf
pausend for breath. Steffen de Vries had already landed in
Compiegne at the arranged meeting place and was
nervously waiting for their arrival. While time passed, the
Belgian felt more and more uncomfortable. But Kohlhaas
and Baumer finally reached the small village near
Compiegne. Now they could return to Ivas. Before the take-
off, they freed their hire car of its vehicle number and
burned it in the forest, hidden from any curious views.
The car was totally destroyed and no one would ever be
able to identify the wreck. When they welcomed the Belgian,
he was more than impressed with their success, and he was
also more than relieved at the same time.
Steffen de Vries shook their hands and was absolutely
amazed. The radio had already informed him about the
situation in Paris since the bombing. Perfectly exhausted,
Frank and Alf climbed into the airplane. Shortly afterwards,
they left "Central Europe".
In the former capital of France, the situation had meanwhile
become dramatically acute. After the crowd had seen the
end of the governor on the numerous video screens, a
strange and confusing silence had ruled the "Avenue of
Humanity" for several minutes. Many people had not been
able to handle with the unforeseen event.
The security forces admonished the crowd to remain quiet,
while tanks threateningly rolled out of the side streets
towards the cooking human pulp. After a while, one heard
the first spectators approvingly yelling and clapping their
hands. The crowd was moved by a tumultuous unrest and
more and more people started to laugh and shout.
"Thank God! That pig is dead! ", screamed a group of men
somewhere in the giant throng. In that moment, the
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shouters ignored the fact that they were all filmed by GSA
agents.
"This would also be the right end for the World President! ",
yelled another man at the top of his lungs.
Then still more people began to shout things like this. Some
young men stamped their feet and sang the forbidden
national anthem of old France. Many of the persons
standing around them joined the singing, although a lot of
people no longer knew the correct text, because the song
had been forbidden by the new rulers.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
A choir came from the rear part of the crowd and the shouts
were carried by more and more people. Hundreds joined the
furious screaming and soon the "Avenue of Humanity"
quaked under the roar of countless Parisians. It was a
strange picture, this huge crowd, clogging the streets and
slowly getting out of control.
The faces of many people were lined with pain. Millions of
Parisians lived a life full of sorrow, poverty and perpetual
insecurity. Therefore, it was no wonder that the displeasure
had grown inside them in the last years.
Meanwhile, a big part of the population of Paris consisted of
badly paid workers and peons. The salaries were usually
that small that one just did not starve and was able to pay
the high rents for the shabby dwellings.
Many of the people here knew the gnaw feeling of an empty
stomach.
The food prices and the fees for electricity,
heating and water had steadily been raised since 2018.
Hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of the city had already
fallen through the welfare net and had become street
people. Sometimes, they just froze to death in the winters.
This was the sad truth about the "new world". There was
also no longer a social welfare system, because the World
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Government had abolished it as a result of the high public
debt. All this was a good hotbed for a revolt. But even now,
many people did not dare to protest. They were still
intimidated and tried to hide somewhere among the others.
They frightenedly looked at the surveillance cameras that
were situated everywhere. Some of them even sneaked
away from the avenue and went to the side streets. So the
crowd broke up into a submissive and a rebellious part in
the following hours.
Nevertheless, it was astonishing, how many citizens
suddenly had the courage to raise their voices. The
anonymity of the crowd seemed to fill them with bravery.
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
"Freedom for France! Down with the World Government! "
The choir of desperate protest increased and became
gradually louder. Somewhere in the crowd, Frenchmen and
immigrants started to attack each other. The Moslems
screamed their own slogans, refering to Islam, which were
also hostile against the World Goverment. In the middle of
the mass began a riot. The angry people assaulted each
other with bottles, knifes and clubs. Even some shots could
be heard.
Policemen and GCF soldiers, who had meanwhile encircled
the crowd, flanked by tanks, threatened by loudspeakers to
immediately stop the antigovernmental shouts. But crowds
have their own dynamics. So is the single man mostly
cowardly and obsequious, but as a part of a mass he
sometimes becomes a hero.
The orders of the officers were ignored, and after a short
time, policemen, soldiers, GSA observers and the crowd
opposed each other like two warring armies.
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Now the GP-squadleaders yelled the order to "catch
seditious people in the crowd" into their radios and groups
of officers with heavy body armor clubbed their way through
the mob to get all those, who had been idenitfied by the
GSA agents. Finally, the situation escalated more and more.
The policemen were welcomed with bottles, cobblestones or
even bare fists, while they uncontrollably beat everyone
down who stood in their way. Nevertheless, the screaming
of the mass became louder, despite their brutality.
Yes, the more people were cut down by the clubs of the
cops, the more people joined the chorus of protest at other
places in the giant sea of humans.
On 03. 01. 2029 at 18. 00 o'clock, the first Molotov cocktails
towrads policemen and tanks in a side street of the "Avenue
of Humanity". The GP's immediately returned fire and
riddled the attackers with bullets.
In return, some Parisians armed themselves with clubs,
knifes, axes and even guns. Now the violence expanded
like a plague, seizing thousands of people along the
"Avenue of Humanity".
The warnings, the police officers were shouting, were not
noticed anymore by the raging crowd and the mass
answered with the old French national anthem.
The forbidden song became a surging wave of emotions
and shook the mass from one end to the other. The old
ground of the boulevard trembled under the loud sound of
the outlawed hymn. Something, the former capital of France
had not seen since decades.
The tanks finally came closer and the GCF soldiers and
policemen took positions. It lasted only a few minutes until
the GCF commander gave the order to shoot the people
down. The bloodbath started.
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While the mass was singing the strictly forbidden old hymn
in perfect harmony, and a surprising great number of people
could still remember the text, the first gunshots resounded
over the avenue.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! "
The noise of gunfire increased and hundreds of men and
women broke down. Then a terrible hail of bullets swept
through the front ranks behind the barriers - all the
policemen and soldiers began to fire now. The tanks moved
forward and pointed their heavy machine guns at the
numerous targets.
"Tac! Tac! Tac! Tac! ", it echoed over the avenue which was
allegedly dedicated to humanity. The salvos of assault rifles
cut hundreds of people down like a huge scythe. Finally the
crowd fell into panic. The old French national anthem lapsed
inot silence and was exchanged with the terrified cries of the
people.
The soldiers and policemen could hardly miss their
countless targets and they did their job, following the orders
of their commanders and were killing without mercy.
Most of them were no Frenchmen, and if they were attacked
by this crowd in this foreign land, they just had to put down
the uprising. And they did it. Hundreds of corpses covered
the "Avenue of Humanity" after only a few minutes.
The security forces marched forward in a closed firing line
and shot their way through the sea of men, women and
children. In particular, the heavy full metal jacket bullets of
the tank guns were devastating. Soon the screaming crowd
fled in all directions. Fences were ripped down, cars were
overturned and the Parisians trampled each other to death.
Behind them, the soldiers and policeman marched over
countless dead bodies like a slowly moving wall of death.
Then the security forces got a new command. The unruly,
but unarmed crowd, had been driven back by them and
190
looked like the giant Persian army at the battle of
Gaugamela which had been defeated by the phalanx of
Alexander the Great. The policemen, soldiers and tanks
stopped.
"The Skydragons are coming! Stop! ", shouted one of the
squad leaders into his radio and wiped off the sweat from
his brow. The killing work had been exhausting.
Orders were given and the dreaded helicopters, coming
from a nearby military base in the west of Paris, came from
the sky. Shortly afterwards, the pilots of the Skydragons
saw nothing but a swarm of frightened ants, fleeing through
the streets.
Finally, the helicopters reduced their altitude and made their
gatling machine guns and their grenade launchers ready to
fire.
"Okay! We just wait for your orders! ", said the commander
of the Skydragon squadron to his higher officer.
"What are you waiting for? Fire! ", screamed the superior.
The pilot of the helicopter hesitated for some seconds, as if
he would think about that, what he should do now. In the
end, he simply said to himself that this was his "job" which
had to be done.
He was from Uzbekistan, with Russian ancestors, and his
name was Alexander. Meanhwile, the young man was a
soldier of the GFC since three years, and this was the first
time he had got the order to kill unarmed civilians.
Alexander tried to ignore it.
"If I wouldn't do it, another man would. . . ", he excused his
acting in front of himself.
Nevertheless, the payment for GCF soldiers was good -
and he had to feed a wife and three children. Apart from
that, every job had its dark sides. This was just the way of
the world. Now the automated target aquisition showed him
a great number of people. He stopped thinking and started
191
to fire. It became a massacre. The heavy bullets of the
Skydragons smashed flesh and bones. Countless hit people
collapsed below the helicopters, screaming, crying, dying,
tumbling on the asphalt. Skulls were shredded and bodies
were mangled by this murderous blaze of gunfire. The
slaughter almost lasted one hour.
There was no escape for those who were caught by the
automated target aquisiation. Where the Skydragons had
raged, a cruel picture remained. Innumerable bodies were
covering the blood-soaked streets of Paris.
Alexander, the family father, recognized a man in the corner
of his eye. His head was torn, while he still tried to creep
forward, pulling a bloody trace over the street. It was
horrible. The Russian was shaken by doubts again, but he
finally suppressed them. It had to be done, it was an order,
and his only choice was to kill. Then he kept on shooting at
the ants, down there on the ground.
While policemen, soldiers and tanks were called to other
parts of Paris, in order to eliminate insurgents, the day came
to an end.
But the riots still lasted for two further weeks. Many
discontented Parisians attacked the local police stations in
their districts or assaulted local politicians. The head
administrator of Paris, Richard de la Croix, was shot in the
open street by an unknown man. Burning cars and houses,
firing tanks and policemen, ruled the street picture in many
parts of the furious metropolis for days.
But in the end the order was restored. This time, the Lodge
Brothers who frequently used the lie as a their weapon, had
consulted its brother: the terror. And he was successful.
Even the bravest man was powerless against the unlimited
inconsiderateness of the security forces in the long term.
About 40000 people died in the riots and street fights on
01. 03. 2029, and in the following weeks. Moreover, several
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hundred policemen and GCF soldiers were killed. Paris had
been drowned in blood. Now it was over. . .
193
With him
It was already late. Mr. Morris, 56 years old and one of the
secretaries of the World President, had to hurry. This
appointment was extremely important. His taxi had
struggled through the jammed streets, from the airport of
New York to the inner city. However, time really pressed
now. Mr. Morris scurried through the big entrance door of a
gigantic skyscraper and ran to the lift. The beheld his watch
and became nervous. But in the end he reached the 33.
floor of the building just in time. . .
"Come in, Mr. Morris! ", called somebody out of a luxurious
office room on the uppermost floor of the skyscraper.
"Good afternoon, Mr. World President! ", said the man with
the gray temples and the just as gray suit, smiling unsteadily
and submissively. His interlocutor stared out the window
down at the streets of the New York and did not turn
around.
"I have the newest internal messages from Paris. . . ", said
Morris excitedly.
"Aha! ", returned the World President.
"Yes, the situation has become acute, as the GSA men
have told me! ", gasped the older gentleman, totally
exhausted.
"Really? ", asked his boss.
"Yes, Mr. World President! Confidential studies. . . ",
explained Morris, but he was interrupted.
"Where is your place in our great organization, Mr. Morris? ",
interrogated the World President and still stared at the
hectic tangle of cars and people between the bulky bank
houses of New York's inner city.
194
"I beg your pardon, Sir! ", replied the confused secretary, still
standing beside the door.
"Which lodge, Mr. Morris? ", clarified the president.
„Eh! I'm a fellow of the "Sons of the Mountain", Sir! The
lodge is called "Sons of the Mountain". . . San Francisco, Mr.
World President! ", stammered Morris baffledly.
"Grade? ", muttered the man in front of the window.
"Eh, I'm in the 4th grade, Sir! That's all I have achieved until
now, Sir! ", stuttered the secretary.
"Well, perhaps that is enough for you, Mr. Morris! "
"I wanted to talk about Paris. . . ", said the servant, but he was
interrupted again.
"Sons of the Mountain"? One of my nephews is also there! ",
whispered the World President.
His secretary tried to direct the conversatrion on the
incidents in Paris, but the World President just groaned and
ordered him to stop talking about these things.
