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Act of Conspiracy, Chapter I: Insurrection
Posted By: russ687<russ687@hotmail.com>
Date: 23 January 2005, 7:21 AM
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Act of Conspiracy
Chapter I
Insurrection
December 24, 2524
City of Levitian, Primary Trade Port
Pacificatorius, Atropos System
Urban District Near the Levitian Sea
The figures moved silently down the empty streets. The heavy raindrops relentlessly soaked the avenues that crisscrossed the city into small rivers of water. The night visibility was cut down to less then ten meters by the rain, and the wind seemed to howl at any living creature that roamed the streets at such an hour.
Splashes from the feet of the eight men were muffled by the hard downpour as they continued up the street. Their pace was quick and steady, but reasonable enough not to attract attention; the long, black raincoats repelled the rain as they stepped through deep puddles that continued to grow in the midnight darkness.
The street lamps flickered on and off down the long, deserted road, and all the nearby buildings remained dark. The city was sound asleep, its occupants resting through the rain and wind that surged outside. This large, normally busy port, was nothing more then a collection of buildings and scattered lights, and the windy storm kept any stragglers from venturing out into the cold, wet weather.
For the eight figures walking through this storm, however, this was perfect. Their actions were cloaked by the darkness, and their intentions hidden under the constant downpour. Their thoughts were kept safely concealed under the black hoods of their long coats, and their eyes were left indiscernible behind the black facemasks. With not a single soul roaming the flooding streets, these figures continued without fear or apprehensiveness.
The past would be justified for them in the present. At this lonely hour in the city of this planet, they were going to start the reversal of the transgression they had come under, and their condemned lives to this world would be freed for the higher purpose in each of their hearts. The illicit actions against them would fuel their resistance, and the unity stricken through their lives would mark the start of a new era.
An era where they redeemed their rightful lives.
Bitterness, the consuming emotion that slowly tore away at them, kept the men trudging through the cold, soaking rain. The feeling inside was readily evident to them all, and the consequences of their actions were not unperceived; they knew what they were getting into. They knew that their endeavor would spark the impending explosion, and it would result in their prosecution, possibly even their deaths. The fact remained, however, that they had already come under wrongful persecution and lawless censorious that broke their former lives and forced them to this pit, where they would finish their dying breath under the veil that nothing was ever negligent in their due process of justice.
The tides of emotion always fell back upon the past. Without a doubt, that was where their hatred originated from; that was where their injustice began. Were they simply handed a bad card in life? The determination in their intentions proved that probability false. They had gone far beyond the odds, and it was clear to see that the thousands of men and women convicted to this life were more then a simple mistake. Their condemnation went far beyond the aberration of those rulers in high places.
They were here by no mere error.
Jakov forced himself to ease up as the came within sight of their target. He felt the rage burning inside of him, and his conscious decision to take action was affirmation of his will to end the wrongs of the past. He had never been one keen on vengeance, but his ability to forgive had ran dry amidst the revelation on this planet. He was not alone.
His first thought years back was pure and simple. A simple mistake. Now the case had changed. He had seen and met the others who had suffered the same fate as his, and his position changed. The thousands of others were sent to this world in offset to the mistakes and disinformation of those put in charge of the law; the laws that bound each man to a fair and peaceful life. What was designed by the Framers centuries ago had gone far away from their original definitions, and put him in a life far from the one he once lived.
It was obvious to him, though, that it wasn't the written laws that defied him, but rather the ones in position to oversee and enforce them. Jakov was an educated man, and knew full and well the extent and span of authority placed upon these Guardians of the Law. He knew that they were at fault, and their convictions of him and his comrades were far from truth or justice.
His reaction to this was now clear. After eight years of living on this planet, far away from the life he was forced away from, he had come to the realization. He began to remember his dreadful past, and he began to work off the bitterness that fueled him. A powerful resource, such a feeling granted him complete determination, but he knew of the adverse affects; he knew the feeling that drove him today would destroy him tomorrow. There was no other choice, though. There was no alternative that would allow him to live the rest of his life without the weight on his shoulders and the hate in his mind.
His family was torn away from him. He was taken from his wife and children, never to see them again, and at whose expense was this mistake? The rage fired up again inside him. It was at his expense, and it had confined him to this way of life that aged him faster; a life that broke through his sanity a bit more each day. Acceptance of such a fate was beyond him. He was taking measures to repay his persecutors in fold.
There it was. Ahead of them his vengeance lay, beckoning him to continue. All this thick hatred in his mind was proving to be a better motivator by the second, and he was feeling no remorse for the actions he was about to take. His companions shared his determination to accomplish their task, and their combined actions would unleash a wave of resistance that would flood the soldiers...no, their captors...with an aurora of strong ambition to repay the reprehensible deeds of those in power above them.
The rain slashed down upon them as the black coats parted and objects came into the eight mens' hands. They held the weapons low as the continued their pace up to the gate at the other end of the intersection, carefully eyeing the two watchtowers that stood over the gateway leading to the magnificent mansion. The entire grounds of the palace were surrounded by three-meter tall walls that extended down both sides of the street. The man lying asleep in that estate would be waking up soon to unpleasant sounds.
The wind muffled any trace of sound as the guards in each tower received a mortal round to their heads. Jakov could barely discern the sound of the glass breaking in those towers, and was thankful for the adverse weather flooding this city. It put them that much closer to their objective.
The group of figures looked down the street before them. The small, two lane road ran to their left and right for as far as the rain would let them see. Tall apartment and office buildings stretched along the side, and parked cars lined the edge of the street. Street lamps dimly illuminated the sidewalks through the thick downpour, and nearly every building was dark. The silent city let the rain be the only discernable sound this night, and they were careful to stay quieter then the thick drops of water coming down.
They ran across the dark street to the wall lining the perimeter of the mansion, careful to keep out of view from the two security cameras panning back and forth along the road parallel to the wall. The street lamps cast long shadows that kept them easily concealed against the brick wall, and they waited in silence for the pieces to fall together. Months of planning was coming into effect, and it was working perfectly.
The headlights from far down the street got his heart pumping fast before he recognized the vehicle. Right on time. The truck's lights suddenly switched off and the engine went silent, but it kept coasting towards them; that was the signal. While his comrades kept watch on all directions, Jakov brought out his compact weapon, pulling back the hammer with a slight click. The uprising had just begun.
He leaned out quickly and sent two quiet rounds through the lens of the camera panning the area before him, then quickly moved out a little further and neutralized the second camera, a slight wisp of steam coming off the tip of the silencer. Pieces of shattered glass fell to the ground along with the rain, not a sound being heard.
The large gate was now unprotected, and the area just outside it was no longer under surveillance, just as planned. The dark truck silently rolled to a stop short of the gate, and the back door of the flat-bed silently opened. The large truck bore the markings of one of the local freight businesses, and was large enough to hold several more men, along with the equipment they needed.
More of his comrades disembarked, wearing black coats with facemasks, and brandishing small weapons. He watched as they silently brought out a ladder and some small electronic equipment; they would need it. The ladder was carefully placed against the tall wall, and another figure began climbing it deliberately slow, an electronic device in one hand. At the top, he looked ever so closely to spot the green laser beam that ran from the edge of the gate all the way back to the corner of the wall, one city block away from them.
They had the connections, and had found out the security system's overriding codes months ago. Nothing was left to chance, since hundreds of others, and ultimately thousands, were depending upon their success at this residence. The figures waiting silently on the street against this hard, cold wall all knew the complications of this all too well. They were the pre-emptive cell to initiate the uprising, and they were holding all the keys to their success. Everything rested upon their shoulders.
A quick hand by the figure at the top of the ladder quickly disengaged the laser beam for that portion of the wall, rendering it completely open for them. They had timed their onslaught with inside information on the habits and tendencies of the watchtower guards; the two men fell dead only a minute after calling in their own report. The official estimate, based off observing the security corps inclinations, gave them over seven minutes before suspicion would be raised. Plenty of time.
The man quickly slid down the wet ladder, and Jakov moved up to him, patting his comrade on the back. Without this man, they would have gone in the hard way. He mounted the ladder and climbed it effortlessly, slinging his weapon and using both hands. He arrived at the top and peered over the wall.
Ahead of him was a majestic yard that surrounded the estate. Elaborate gardens and fountains dotted the landscape, and vehicles of more value then his own life sat motionless around the circle driveway before the main entrance of the villa. How could men live in such wealth with the sins and faults of their actions upon their backs? He focused on the duty before him, suppressing his emotion this time and looking more closely at the mansion.
Two guards stood by the main door, casually talking and smoking, their weapons slung. They would be easy enough. The lights in the windows were mostly off, but the exterior lights were all on; that would be a significant problem. Two more guards stood upon the second story balcony, mimicking the actions of the two men below them. The snipers would have easy shots of them. Finally, he noticed a trio of guards walking the perimeter, more alert then the previous guards, but their weapons were still stowed. Should the timing be right, they could pull this off.
He turned around and nodded to the figures below, then held up seven fingers. His comrades nodded, and Jakov turned around, climbed over the top of the wall and dropping silently into the bushes below. Once again, the rain kept the guards from noticing, and the darkness this far from the mansion gave him plenty of cover. His comrades started dropping from the wall as well, bringing out their weapons and keeping close eyes on the guards from within the bushes.
Jakov pulled out the small calling device and brought it to his ear after hitting a preset number on the device's keypad. The receiver only let it ring once before picking up. "Sim?" The Portuguese accent was thick over the connection.
"Dois guardas, tire-os." Jakov said. He wasn't of Portuguese descent, but learned to speak the language well, especially over the last several months. "Make sure you don't hit a window, o meu amigo."
"Have I ever missed, camarada? Consider it done."
Jakov flipped the device shut and motioned for his comrades, now numbering a complete dozen, to eye the guards patrolling the grounds. He brought out his compact weapon and put the stock to his shoulder, orientating the sight on one of the guards by the main entrance. They would have to hit hard and fast, without missing; any slight noise would deteriorate the situation faster then they could compensate for.
The first man on the balcony flinched backward, red splattering against the window behind him. The second guard did not even react before a round tore through his cranium; not a sound could be heard. Jakov fired a three round burst at his target, the trio of suppressed rounds packing tightly around the guard's lower neck, sending him to the ground with a mist of blood. The three guards moving around the perimeter didn't even notice the second guard at the entrance fall, and continued walking near the expensive vehicles, laughing over some unheard joke.
Fools. They should be doing their jobs; they would have lived longer.
His comrades let muffled discharges of rounds eat into the guards, all three falling simultaneously without even a cry, the only hearable action was that of their weapons clattering against the asphalt. This is it, this is our time to release the affliction of those wrongfully cursed to this 'freedom.'
It was a bold step, but somebody had to do it. Jakov stepped out from behind the bush and began walking towards the main entrance, his weapon up and ready. His colleagues followed closely behind, scanning the grounds for any signs of further patrols. So far, they were moving in clean.
This large, cherished residence before them held their target. A single man, serving a seemingly innocent position among the judicial system of the intersystem organization empowered by the Human collective government to enforce the law, through means of trials, or rather mistrials. The thin skin of virtue and faultlessness held nothing but public perception, and even that was sparse on this planet. He could see straight through the man, and he could see the delinquent and felonious attributes that rendered him nothing more then a thief and corrupter of the checks and balances meant to keep the legal system honest. It disgusted him how such a man with authority could be so selfish and malicious, and completely ignore the very values that kept Humanity what it was.
Fair.
Knowledge is power, and all the men with him had the comprehension of the truth. They knew of the deeds behind closed doors, and standing by to watch it destroy their lives, and even the world they were condemned to, was far from their criteria. They had the manpower, the resources, and the will to start the beginning of the end; the end of fraudulency and disreputable actions that crippled the law of order that the citizens and inhabitants of these worlds thrived upon. His fight extended well beyond the boarders of this city or planet. His fight was to eradicate this filth from the highest levels of power.
There was no reason to contradict the damning evidence he possessed. He had witnessed it firsthand, and he had heard the accounts of countless others who had suffered the same fate through this failure of justice. This went all the way to the top, and it filtered down like the sewage that descended down the lines and into this very ocean. While they were starting at this level, relatively low to the truthful size of this problem, it would work its way back up. Like the analogy he had used and heard many times over the last several months, this was the fuse to the bomb; all they had to do was ignite it.
Jakov moved up the marble steps of the main entrance. He passed the two dead bodies and stepped over the blood pools forming around their heads; the guilt of taking life was suppressed by his will. There was no joy whatsoever in his actions against these men, but it was necessary, and no amount of guilt or shame would overcome that fact.
The twelve other men kept the area covered as he leaned over to pick the security card from one of the dead bodies. Jakov ran the card through the slot near the large double-doors, and waited for a second as the small light turned green. He reached for the handle and twisted, and with satisfaction felt the lock click free and the bolt snap back. The door opened easily.
He brought up his weapon and aimed it into the room ahead, but it was empty. He stepped silently and cautiously through the door into the entrance lobby of this mansion. The walls were decorated with paintings, and two magnificent stairways ascended to his left and right. Ahead of him was a long hallway, dimly lit and ending far enough away. The house was dark, for the most part, and only the frequent lamp lit the area. Perfect.
They already had schematics of this estate, and had memorized every room, hallway, and closet. They knew the ins-and-outs, and more importantly, where everyone slept. Searching such a large villa would take nearly twenty-minutes had they not had this prior knowledge, but they knew exactly where to go. Nothing separated them from their objective. Nothing.
Jakov checked to make sure everyone was ready, then led the way up the right stairwell, ascending to the second floor of the mansion. He looked to his right and recognized the long, dark hallway from the building layout. With the weapon up and ready, he walked pass closed doors on either side towards the end; a single small table with a lamp atop of it below a closed window. This place was elegant, and was home to more then just their target. It housed millions upon millions of monetary-worth art collections and artifacts. Such a prized collection would have taken years to achieve, and certainly a wealth incomprehensible to most. Such a man lived among these possessions, seemingly without guilt or remorse for his participation in such corruption.
The double-doors before him were the final gate to pass through. He looked down at his watch as the countdown timer read to zero, then back up at the door; the time had come. With calmness and silence, he opened the door and pushed it through. He was met with a world of darkness, and quickly stepped in, scanning the darkness. Time to met your adversary.
"Lights."
The room lit up at his command, revealing a large, high vaulted bedroom. It was nearly majestic, and seemed like a scene from the theatrical world. He was astounded even more by the pictures and objects along the walls, and recognized possessions talked about by even the general public. This was the man's lair, a room of beauty filled with villainous horrors.
Jakov walked through the large room towards the large bed on the far end, two bodies still lying asleep. This man didn't even know what was going on, and was still dreaming about the days to come.
The eyes parted a little, and a slight groan was emitted from the man on the right side of the bed. The two, dark brown eyes looked up to Jakov, and then began to comprehend the masked gunman before him.
The eyes got big.
He reached down a grabbed the man's hair, pulling him out of the bed and to the floor. The man cursed and looked up again at the men surrounding him; fear etched across his face and he began to tremble slightly, words not coming from the open mouth. Jakov took some satisfaction in the moment; months of planning, and now he was standing before their target.
A slight nod to his companions and the man was grabbed. Jakov turned away and brought out the communication device, flipping it over and hitting the present dial button.
"We have him, move in and secure the guards."
He closed the device and turned at the scream. The man's wife, or mistress, whoever it was, awoke with a start and let out a heart-wrenching scream that could break glass. What was he to expect? Such a reaction would be normal to anyone. Waking up to masked, armed men in your room was a frightening experience.
One of his comrades quickly silenced the women, but her squeals could still be heard despite the strong hand over her mouth. Jakov didn't think twice about it; they were in, they had their target, and now the plans could proceed. Soon Pacificatorius, and Atropos as a whole, would be in a fight against the tools of these evil men.
Without a doubt, some innocent would die, but it was necessary for the process to continue and operate. It was not his, nor his comrades goals to implicate anyone outside of this corruption, but those who fought for these men would meet early ends of life, and those who got in the way would see their afterlife sooner then expected.
The fuse was now lit.
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