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   Chapter 34 No.34

Prey World - Organized Rage By Alexander Merow Characters: 5486

Updated: 2018-07-06 12:02


"I gonna blast the skull of everyone who wants to register me with this shit!", shouted Alf, banging on the table.

In the following week, John Thorphy organized a few boxes of ammunition and new MPs in Moscow. Furthermore, Wilden had got new donations from some old friends whose names were still unknown. Frank, Alfred and about a dozen men from Ivas were on their way to Mazyr in the south of Belarus, to join another demonstration.

After the protest march in Pastavy had ended in a bloody fiasco, Tschistokjow had changed his old "rally-plan". Now he "jumped" from one part of Belarus to the other, to hinder the authorities to concentrate their police forces at one particular place. Finally over 3000 people came to Mazyr and except for minor scuffles with the police, everything went quiet. This time, the supporters of the freedom movement had huge banners with some new slogans.

"Only Artur Tschistokjow can save us! Give him the power over Belarus!" or "Artur Tschistokjow – The last hope!" could be read on them.

In the meantime, the politician had recovered from the terror of the assassination attempt in Baranovichi, but he knew that a thing like that could happen anytime again. From now on, his guardsmen always checked the roofs of the houses around them before they held a rally.

The year 2034 ended and when the first snowflakes came from the sky, an unfamiliar calm returned. Wilden had organized a big Christmas party, which was this time held in the old renovated church in the center of the village. The majority of the villagers came and the building was finally bursting at the seams. Artur Tschistokjow, whose family no longer existed, visited them and seemed to become sentimental, when he entered the church. For some hours, they all felt like ordinary people. A feeling that was meanwhile strange for Frank and his comrades. Wilden`s moving Christmas speech which had exceptionally nothing to do with world politics, remained in Frank`s memory for a long time. Meanwhile, he was 33 years old and mused in the long hours of the dark winter evenings a lot about his previous life, about what he had achieved - and what not.

"I`m some kind of hero - that`s all!", he sometimes said to himself, not knowing whether he was really happy about this.

Concerning his personal aims of life, which included a woman he loved, and perhaps even a family, he had previously achieved nothing. The fight against the global system that seemed to become a never ending story, ate up his life, slowly devoured it with each passing year, like a snake a little rabbit. Frank had to avow himself that he just marked time in all private things. He became aware of it all, when he saw Julia and Viktor kissing and flirt

ing at the New Year`s party at the Wildens.

Shortly after 24.00 o`clock, when several dozens of people had gathered in front of the house of the village boss, he finally went back home, sad and frustrated. Alf still stayed for a few hours and came back early in the morning, completely drunk.

With the beginning of February, the political struggle went on with full force. The governor of the sector "Eastern Europe" announced the start of the mass registration of the population with the new Scanchips.

Meanwhile, the sub-sector "Belarus-Baltic" had become a place of misery. The hard winter had claimed many victims among the homeless people in the cities, all across the country. Furthermore, the industry had collapsed further and a lot of production complexes had been outsourced in Third World countries. Hundreds of thousands had lost their jobs.

Perhaps the year 2035 could be promising for the freedom movement and even make a revolt possible. Frank thought a lot about it, but he came to no solution. Only one thing seemed to be certain: Some of his comrades would not witness the next New Year`s party.

"Well? What do you think about the flyer?", asked Artur Tschistokjow the village boss and looked expectantly at him.

"Hmmm...", muttered Wilden and scratched his gray temples, while he translated the Russian text. Now he talked quietly to himself. Frank and Alfred strained their ears.

"People of Belarus, don`t let them implant you a poison-chip!", was the headline of the leaflet. Wilden studied the text thoughtfully and finally read out aloud: "The new implanted Scanchip contains poison capsules! Defend yourselves against the criminals of the Medschenko regime and the World Government..."

Several minutes later, he was ready. "This is very good!", he said with a smile.

"We have printed about 200000 of these pamphlets, our men distribute them everywhere in Belarus!", explained Tschistokjow.

For the 15th of February, he had planned another protest march. This time in Rechytsa, a small town in the southeast of the country, bordering the former Ukraine.

"This country has no money left anymore. Have you already heard it? It was yesterday in the television", said the blond man

"No more money?", returned Frank.

"Yes, the sector "Belarus-Baltic" is broke! How do you say it in German?", asked Tschistokjow.

"Bankrupt!", explained Alf.

"Okay! Bankrupt!", repeated the Russian and grinned.

"This is good for us. Then this sector could probably fall into chaos this year. Great! I hope so!", said Wilden.

"I believe that, my friends. Soon, they will do not even have money to pay the policemen. No salary for police anymore! Do you understand?", remarked Tschistokjow.

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