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   Chapter 57 No.57

Prey World - Citizen 1-564398B-278843 By Alexander Merow Characters: 5075

Updated: 2018-07-06 19:02

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 hundred policemen and GCF soldiers were killed. Paris had been drowned in blood. Now it was over...

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.

"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.

"Listen, Mr. Morris! I know what has happened in Paris, and I give a shit on it!", he said quietly. "Not even a damn fart! Do you think that the "great revolution" will break loose against us now, Mr. Morris!"

The World President seemed to be almost amused. "Leon- Jack Wechsler is dead. I have already determined his successor this morning. And now, I don`t want to talk about this unimportant and boring kids` stuff anymore!"

"But the terrorists have...", Morris tried to explain with an unsteady voice.

The World President seemed not to hear him. He still looked impassively out of the huge window of his luxury office: "Bring me a glass of orange juice, Mr. Morris, and place it on the desk!"

"Yes, Sir!", stammered his secretary and left the room. After a few minutes he returned and put a glass of orange juice on the table.

"Thanks!", said the chairman of the international community, but he did not turn around. "Do you think that we would be there where we are, if things like that uninteresting fuss in Paris had ever impressed us just one time?", he added coldheartedly.

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