A budding writer with a bunch of ingenious rebels risk their lives to try and overthrow an oppressive government to earn back their liberty of expression. They need to unify and put aside their differences, interests and pasts, and race against time...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Hey, what do you think you are doing?" the man from earlier was standing in front of them, in a different pinstriped suit in deep wine. Derek had been posing and clicking photos of the gorgeous gilded walls of the bungalow for emphasis.
"He's my photographer friend and I brought him here to make him meet the president," Alizeh gives a sugary smile at him, "Meet Leslie."
Derek with ridiculous green hair and fake punk tattoos extended his hands in greeting, the steel rings glinting on his fingers.
"No thanks," the pervert folds his hands for emphasis, as if shaking hands would somehow make him dirty.
"And who's this?" he peered behind Derek at the small frame of Nina who had opted a full baby doll look, complete with glasses and two braids.
"Me Barbara. Assistant sir. I don't speak English well," Nina cocked her head to one side and played dumb.
"You know it's not allowed, bringing so many people," he finally turned to Alizeh.
"I'm sorry but it's needed. Now excuse us," Alizeh looked straight into his eyes and made sure there was nothing subservient in them. They exuded pure, raw command.
"You don't make the rules around here, young lady," he suddenly grabbed her hands, painfully.
"Don't fucking touch me," she tried to snatch back her hand.
"Who the hell are you to speak to me in that way?" his eyes narrowed at her, as he attempted to grab her by the waist.
He bared his teeth menacingly at her before speaking slowly, "I don't know what mind games you're playing or who you are, but remember, I have a stronger and a faster mind. You'd never catch me in your net."
Alizeh shivered involuntarily. This man was dangerous for her plans. He was suspecting something. She couldn't really have him doubt her motives.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she forced some confidence in her words but they sounded hollow to her ears.
"I believe you know exactly what's going on. I'm not the best of the buddies with the sire too, but I'm not dumb. I know to choose sides wisely," his charcoal grey gaze held her captive like a deer in the headlights.
"Let her go," this time it was Derek's voice and there was no warmth in them. The cold, cutting menace was evident. Alizeh didn't understand the silent power play that played out between the two males. But somehow Derek won.
Alizeh thankfully extracted herself from the man's grip. He just smirked and strode off, his shoes squeaking on the polished ivory marbles.
Nothing eventful happened with the meeting as they smoothed over the details of Derek's work. Nina had slipped out in time to the bathroom, from where she had emerged in her invisible form, thanks to the scarf. Derek had gotten his photos and they made it back to the base, victorious.
.................
"Two days. Our master plan starts in two days," Jurian commented, raising his glass for a toast. "Soon, we'll know what's out there for us," Lady A seconded, raising her own flute where the brown liquid swirled in a strong oily texture.
"President managed, venues arranged, gadgets ordered," Alizeh was busy ticking off the objectives achieved on the creases of her stubby fingers.
"Map done," Nina twittered.
"Pictures done," Derek added.
"Men for the D-day power cut, arranged," Cynthia, who was the only person other than Alizeh, that wasn't drinking, verified from her side.
" Just sit down and relax for a while. You've done enough, baby," Jurian crooned to her. The inebriated Nina whistled.
"No amount of planning is enough in these cases. We're playing with so many lives," Alizeh retorted, still busy ticking off stuff on her master plan.
"Come on. We can take some hours to ourselves, especially after..." Derek's words were cut off mid-sentence as a void of blue opened up in the wall in front of them and someone staggered into the room. The man was drenched in blood and sweat and his clothes were charred and falling apart in some places. Angry red welts marked his hands and the ends of his singed hair was still, smoking. He collapsed on the floor in front of them.
"Wrench, oh my God!" Lady A yelped, dropping her glass which shattered to the floor in a million crystal shards. Alizeh was frozen in place as the men rushed to help him stand up. He had one blackened eye and was bleeding from a bad gash across his chest.
"They attacked Cloud Four Base. They put a tracking chip in some shipment we had ordered from outside. We didn't know until they turned up and ambushed us in our sleep. Somebody had tipped us off," the youngest member of the invention wing coughed, as they made him sit down comfortably.
A first aid box was brought in as he narrated the entire tale over again. "Wait, were they caught? Were they taken? Gear and the others," Lady A's question faltered at the brink of tears.
"I'm sorry my lady, but," Wrench looked up at her face. There was something so pathetically innocent in those eyes.
"They detonated the place," Lady A staggered back two feet, putting her hands over her mouth, suppressing a sob. Alizeh had never seen her cry. At that moment she wasn't a leader of a project. She was just Arya, a young, scared girl with a lot of responsibilities over her.
"What do you mean by detonated?" Nina looked from one to the other in confusion.
"They blew up the whole place as we did. Except, they blew it upon themselves," Alizeh couldn't believe she had spoken those words without stuttering for even a second, "They killed themselves to protect the others like us from detection. Or else they would simply extract their memories from the captives and trace their way to us and our plans."
Nina and Cynthia gasped in unison. Alizeh silently shifted towards Lady A, clasping her hand lightly. She squeezed her hand for support as the medics in the team wheeled away Agent Wrench who was the only survivor and messenger of the aftermath.
"They're coming for us. Sooner or later, they're coming for us - the cowards," Alizeh murmured through clenched jaws.
"We'll get them before it happens," Jurian's eyes lit up in a genuine promise as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
