The Kingdom: Becoming The Enemy

Chapter Six: The Resistance

Ten men and four women bounced down a rocky mountain road and that is all the information they could be allowed in the back of the truck they rode in.It had been hours of silence. All parties not knowing what to expect. All they knew was, they were going to be initiated.

They stood. All holding teardrop shaped handles hanging from the ceiling, lining the sides of the rectangular transport. The men were a healthy mixture of age. Some young. Some looked like they were on the front lines of all three world wars.

One of the young men spoke up, "Why are you here? You look like you've seen enough." He nodded at an old man in his fifties.

The white whiskers on the grizzled man's chin shifted as he spoke. "It's a little past your bedtime boy. Why don't you just give up now? Before you give up when an old man completes the training."

The boy's brow lowered, smirks across the faces of the other cadets. His pride challenged by the old man. "Listen old man. I was asking a simple question. I'm concerned for my older comrades is all."

A few eyes snapped to the more experienced gentleman. " I sure as hell don't need your concern. I should snap you like a twig you little shit." They glared at each other. Tension growing, some eyes getting wider with concern, while others smirked and looked like they wanted some popcorn to enjoy the show.

The action was denied by the truck screeching to a halt. The door on the back slid open. "Move, move, move!" A drill Sargent in white and black camouflage bellowed from the snowy ground outside the truck. He was obeyed.

The cadets scurried out of the truck and fell into formation in front of the Sargent, completely forgetting the near fight. "So you did learn something before you came here." The Sargent's combat boots shifted before he started pacing back and forth, in front of the ranks.

"You are here because you have a bone to pick with the kingdom. We can help you with that." The Sargent began. "That does not mean we trust you. You are not allowed to know the location of this facility!" His speech went from calm to angry and continued, "If you ask where we are I will shoot you myself. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes, sir." The choir chorused.

The Sargent walked up to the boy that was more talkative than the rest in the truck. "Is that understood, Private Little Shit?" little shit stammered, "Sir?"

A fist collided with little shit's stomach, he crumbled. "We have microphones in the back of that truck and we hear every word in our transports. We are all here for the same reason, we are The Rebellion against this regime and if you're going to question that then you can't be here." The Sargent's voice angry and threatening. All faces stayed emotionless while little shit wheezed.

"Permission to speak, sir." The older man spoke up. "Permission granted." The Sargent saw an opportunity to build some camaraderie, if the old man says the right thing.

"The boy just wants to fight like the rest of us. I can teach him some manners, there is no need to send him home." The old man had sympathy for the kid that reminded him of a version of himself that existed a long time ago. Perfect. The Sargent thought.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen. Time for a history lesson since some of you obviously don't know why we're here."

Private little shit stood up, back to attention while the Sargent became a history teacher. "A long time ago, there was a group of very rich and very power hungry people. Some called them the Illuminati, some called them the one percent and some called them the devil. I call them the enemy." The Sargent watched nodding faces as he paced, "The enemy took over by taking everyone's rights and creating a global power structure that I'm not sure even they have a name for. They built this regime by shoving money into politics and taking fairness out of any democracy. They promised power to their underlings and they only were dealt death when they were longer needed. They took over the people's minds by taking over the media. They gained control of any communications. Arresting people for saying the wrong things. The Internet became a hunting ground for so-called conspiracy theorists. There was no conspiracy. It was all published fact, but if you talked about it, you disappeared." The Sargent kept pacing. He looked at the faces becoming bored. "Then the real takeover started. They started putting people in labour camps and started marching against the people. It wasn't army versus army, it was army versus the people. They had drone strikes, killing 'terror threats', and they even started relying on simple robots to patrol the streets and kill anyone that got out of line. We're not sure how many people died back then. Some say three to five billion. I'm not sure what to believe. Everyone knows the enemy gave fake numbers pre-war on how many people actually lived on the planet. This is not a Kingdom army or a pre-war army. We don't expect you to be perfect robots when you take a life, but we do expect that you fight for your freedom. The enemy thinks it's their god given right to rule the world because they descend from ancient royalty. We are here to show them that it's our right to be free. And freedom isn't going to come to us without a fight." The history lesson was over. It was time to forge soldiers.

"Alright. We're off schedule enough. Were gonna have to do the run twice as fast now." The run?, half of the squad thought. "Keep up with me or you'll do it twice." He started at a pace none of them were going to be able to keep up for long.

They ran down they grey gravel road, passing barracks after barracks, examining the green doors that were framed with darker green walls on the buildings. It matched the foliage that covered the perimeter of the training ground.

They barely noticed the view that they'd been offered by the two mountains on either side of the area. The tips surrounded by fog and capped with snow.

The trainees tracked the snow as they passed. Disturbing the snow in front of a large house that lay in the midst of the barracks. A pair of eyes admired them from inside.

"Another batch of fresh meat." A deep, commanding voice echoed in the large house's halls. "They're running faster than usual. Looks like Amsterdam had to give them the speech again."

"General." A voice said while he waited for him to stop examining his new recruits. "Alright, what is it Lieutenant?"

"It's Patrious, sir. There's new intel, just got transmitted today." The General ears twitched, he was pulled from the image of two recruits puking while they ran.

"Patrious?"

"Yessir."

"Well? Out with it. Is he dead?" "We don't know sir. It seems like it." The General's eyebrow raised, questioning the messenger further.

"There was a presentation in Gladiator City, King Louis showing off his latest type of robot." The General's eyes widened, horrified at what the Lieutenant might say next. "He said that Patrious' body had an artificial brain in it and it would follow his every command."

"That's impossible!" The General commanded. "We thought so too. Then The King told Patrious to kill some children from resistance towns. Please don't make me tell you the rest."

"God damn it!" The General's head lowered, fists clenched. "They're going to use him against us."

"Yessir, he said that Patrious will lead the kingdom in crushing the resistance." In a goofy impersonation of the king. "This isn't a joke Dickinson!" The General boomed. "Do you even realise how powerful Patrious was even before they started doing all those augments?" The Lieutenant shrunk.

Silence fell over the room. They're coming.