Love and War - (Book 1)

Chapter 5 (Part 2 - A Larger Scale)

Piling more Rebel corpses outside of the creamy-looking Rebel base leaves a typically vile aroma for the noses of the Military. Alexander is one of the many that savours the taste. He makes his way down to where the rest of the high officers, generals and Jonathan are posted downstairs, however he cannot stop pondering on what Alastair was writing. 'I've never known him, or anyone, to write some useless diary,' he thought. 'What if he's a spy, writing information down and sending it off to the bloody Rebels... Now that that thought is in place, it will not be removed.' Although slowing in pace, he makes his way to the others.

They surround a grand circular table, much like the one in their old base where Mark currently resides. He watches and half-listens to what the others discuss, his hears pricking up when Jonathan advises something rather ingenious, and when Alastair's strong Scottish accent is projected throughout the room. He watches. He wonders. He remains silent.

Having said nothing the entire time (not even agreeing with whatever plans Jonathan makes for once), Alexander exits and continues to confront Alastair. He finds him making his way up the stairs, where many of those soldiers were shot down, and Alastair approaches that room on the first left once more. "Adding another entry?" Alex questions, catching him by surprise.
"Oh... er, yes, Sir... You appear to be stalking me." Alex found some hostility in his voice. He had never heard that sort from the likes of Alastair before.
"You have a problem with that?" Alex asks rhetorically. "I was just becoming more and more concerned about what you may be writing in that 'diary' of yours. We've never encountered spies before, do you know this? In all the many years of this fucked up war, never has there been a spy that was caught. Well... I think they've been hiding for too long, and clearly we haven't been very observant. Alastair... do you mind if I take a look in your 'diary'?"
"Yes, Sir. I do in fact mind, Sir." Alastair's "Sir"'s were becoming those of mockery, Alex recognised.

Alastair proceeds to go across the room and throw his diary out of the window. "Now nobody can read it." Alex makes haste to rush outside and to find what ever he can find in that diary of Alastair's.

En route, he knocks into Jonathan. Crash! They collapse to the ground. "Alex, Sir, I do apologise sincerely-"
"Fucking help me out!" he commands at the top of his lungs, and Jonathan chases after Alex. Meanwhile, Alastair watches the two from afar.

-Lucas-

In the dead of night, the Followers were heard by Lucas and Jordan. Lucas proceeds to check out what is happening, being curious about the state of the world these days, having been away for six long months. "Lucas... get back here," Jordan orders.
"You're not my fucking father, asshole!" Lucas snaps back, so loud that both supposed the entire building heard his raucous response.

Still fully dressed, Lucas exits the building and witnesses riots. Something he had never seen... not ever. 'I suppose this is quite frequent, though, these days,' Lucas guesses.

He finds a familiar face in the crowds, though oddly enough he knows he has never met the woman before. He stares into her eyes. As blue as the night sky, although no this night's sky, as it was burning with the orange of the rioters flames. Her hair, long and brown. The kind of brown that Lucas loved on a woman. So complex, so beautiful that it was challenging to put into words. "Stop staring at me," she says, sounding both bothered and tranquil at the same time. 'Women are so very complex; it's a wonder that John, Alex and whomever leads the Rebels aren't all women.'
"I apologise. Though you are a beauty, if you don't mind my saying. I feel as if I recognise you." Lucas can almost tell where he remembers her from. Some time from about six months ago. "Do you have a boyfriend - not that I'm asking for my personal desires, although... would that I could with you. I've just, sort of come out of a relationship, and it's all very long to explain, so complicated that it would take forever to tell you all about."
"About as long as it took you to say all that?" Lucas laughs hard.
"Longer. Much longer. So do you - have a boyfriend?"
"I do."
"What's his name - not trying to sound odd."
"Well, you're failing. He's called Jonathan." 'Could it be? No... But yes! It was Jonathan's girl. The very same Jonathan with Alex. Then what is she doing here?'
"And what are you doing here? What is this?"
"Well, I'm rioting for the war to hurry up and fucking end already. My boyfriend's is fighting in it, per se. The Military are just a bunch of fuck-ups; they should all just hurry up and all die already. Anyway, I'm Jenny, and I'll be off now. See ya...?"
"Lucas."
"See ya, Lucas. Let's hope we never meet again." She smiles and returns to the Followers.

'What did she mean about the Military dying? Is she a Rebel supporter? Then what of Jonathan? It is late, so perhaps I'm overthinking all this.'

-John-

Now embarking on a rogue mission to defend his position, he has informed Franklin, Bridget, Toby, Michelle and David to tell him all about the meetings and he will cross-reference what they say with the recordings of the actual meetings. 'If my treasured wife could see me now, then perhaps she may not say I'm wasting my life and making mistakes, but am actually rather intelligent.'

"They said nothing about you, Sir," Franklin confirms.

"I don't recall you ever being mentioned, John," Bridget confirms.

"Nope. Your name was not said. Not once," Toby confirms.

"I guess they mustn't like you at all; you were not mentioned in the meetings," Michelle confirms.

"Can't say I remember them bringing you up, and definitely not your position of power. Just boring politics, I'm afraid, John. Bridget will be along any moment for the signing of the documents and everything," David confirms.

After watching the clips he recorded, he gathered one very vital piece of information that concerns his employees: they all lied to him. Not that John's power was mentioned, but he himself was mentioned frequently nonetheless. 'I must inquire each one of them about this.'