I
Dark
Friedrich Georg
3rd of April, 2162.
Unknown, Russian SR.
“You think rather highly of yourself, Friedrich, do you not?” Magnus inquired with a grin, casually polishing his pistol with what looked like a decade old cloth.
Friedrich knew Magnus was one for humour, he always had used that to cope with the atrocities he had committed in the KGB, although something had finally made the man reconsider his way of life, something that absolutely baffled him.
“You would not suspect one of such genius as myself to think highly of themselves? Even fools such as Pavlovich think highly of themselves.” Friedrich responded, “Hurrah for me.” He cheered mockingly.
“And what about the two of you?” Magnus asked, twisting himself towards Alexander and Wilhelm. “A man with a passion for outdated democracies and a pretender to some ancient throne.”
“I am no genius--” Alexander began, though he was stopped by Magnus slamming his fist against the table.
“Then what are you doing here?! This is no place for fools, Markev, we’re trying to topple a global government, not drink tea and discuss politics.” Magnus gestured onto the table, for of teacups, it was barren.
“Give Alexander a break,” Wilhelm intervened, “He is an aging man, don’t you know?” He jested.
“You humour me, Emperor.” Magnus remarked sarcastically. “We must have our minds keen and ready. Otherwise our plot will merely fail, and we will all be executed.” He stared at Alexander and Wilhelm with manic eyes, “And I am not the one who needs worry about that, they will execute me immediately, but oh no, you, the two rebels from foreign lands, you will be tortured.” He ended off, smiling brightly at the two as if he had told them a mere joke.
“Magnus, have you forgotten to take your medicine again?” Friedrich inquired in a jesting manner, poking the beast had become one of his favourite pastimes over the course of time he had known Magnus.
“Ah, Friedrich, had you not been such a great friend of mine. I would have shot you twice in the head and deemed it a suicide.” Magnus released a sigh of relief, seemingly calming down. “Markev and Hohenzollern, you are both lucky the KGB and Army are more loyal to Friedrich and I than to Pavlovich and Lenin.”
“I do not doubt that,” Alexander nodded his head a few times, before rising from his seat. “Well, I expect both of you two go ahead with the plot. Wilhelm and I will await news of your great success from Königsberg.”
“You do that, you go hide, and the men will do the work.” Magnus smirked, waving them both off before turning to Friedrich. Alexander and Wilhelm left swiftly, it was obvious they did not want o anger Magnus further by sticking around. “You must get the armed forces ready, Friedrich.” He nodded his head a few times. “I do not intend to stick around after this, I’ve committed much too many crimes. You will have to lead all that remains after. Are you ready?” He asked, with a glint in the eye, voice full of determination and dread.
Friedrich knew Magnus was like this, he was getting older, and what he said was not wrong. Magnus had committed the sins of a million life times, and perhaps this was his last solution to redeem himself in the eyes of history.
“Of course, Magnus, if I do start a revolution, I do also intend to lead it.” Friedrich smiled reassuringly, albeit it was never certain Magnus believed such.
“Good… Good.” Magnus clasped his hands together, “It is tomorrow, then, I expect to see you in the Kremlin.” He offered a weak smile before pivoting around and marching off.
It was first now that Friedrich realised the room they had held their meeting in. A dark bunker, only constructed only of cement. No windows, only one heavy metal door for an exit. And only a dim light on the table gave any kind of illumination. Certainly, this was not the kind of place he would like to be held as a captive. He had been captured before, some twenty years ago. The African Revolution, as they called it. He could still imagine himself down in the Congo, fighting guerrilla africans wanting their freedom. Why hadn’t he sided with them back then? He wondered, seeing as he now had become a revolutionary himself, or at least he was going to.
“A saint,” he whispered to himself. “A saint of the people.”
Never had he been anywhere so moist, every single leaf felt it was drenched in water. Yet, the heat was also unbearable. Insects, arthropods, and other beasts of the jungle roamed around freely. If the guerilla fighters of the African continent weren’t enough dangers, the animals added so much more. One day, you could be feeling fine. The next, you could be dying of several diseases passed to you by different mosquitoes and insects. At least that’s what had happened to Daniel, the poor man had looked like a pumpkin when he died. Friedrich was the leader of this small group, and he couldn’t afford to lose anymore men, seeing as he only had four left.
“Go left,” he ordered, cutting through the vines and plants of the jungle with a machete. They were headed towards Kisangi to meet up with other groups. That’s if the guerilla troops didn’t kill them first, or the wildlife.
An explosion rung through the air behind him, and the force from it launched him into a nearby tree. Friedrich pushed himself from the ground, a hole had been created in the ground. Adolf had been blown into pieces, Friedrich could easily spot a few limbs lying around in random locations near the crater. Werner didn’t look too good, he was suffering from some bleeding, and he was knocked unconscious against a tree.
“August! Maximilian! Get Werner!” He ordered, pointing to him. August and Maximilian nodded, hurrying towards their fellow soldier. Just as they were about to pick him up, darts flew through the air, hitting them both in their necks. They both stared at each other for a moment, before falling unconscious on the ground.
Friedrich looked around in panic, the guerrillas were here. But where? He thought, squinting his eyes around the jungle. He raised his AR-15, “Come down here and get me!” He shouted into the jungle, before unloading his entire magazine rapidly into the trees. It turned out to have been a slightly successful tactic, as two guerillas fell dead in the jungle.
But it wasn’t enough, five more jumped down around him, all aiming AK-47’s at him. “Surrender!” One of them demanded in English. This was one of the wonders of the world for Friedrich, not being asked to surrender, but the fact that almost everyone in the world spoke English. He supposed it was something that’s been the case since before the USSR controlled most of the world, since even the official language of the USSR was English.
“Surrender!” They demanded again, moving closer to Friedrich, their fingers inches away from their triggers.
“Calm down, calm down.” He glanced to August, Maximilian and Werner, sighing. He looked to the speaking guerilla, throwing his AR-15 at him. “Who are you?” He asked.
The guerilla offered no answer, although Friedrich deciding on dubbing him yellow hat, as he was indeed wearing a yellow beanie. What was more surprising, was that unlike any of the other guerillas, he was white.
“You’re not from here, are you?” Friedrich asked again, stepping closer to him.
“Name’s Sebastian. And no, I’m not.” He shook his head, picking up Friedrich’s AR-15. “What about you? You Russian?” He asked, quirking a brow.
“German. Name’s Friedrich Georg.” He tried to offer a smile, masking his fear. He was still surrounded by five armed hostiles, and they could well easy kill him right here. He had to get on their good side.
“You have balls.” Sebastian admitted, chuckling as he glanced at the two dead guerillas. “Could’ve gotten all of us with a bit more randomization. Too bad.” He offered a wide grin to Friedrich, then looked to his men. “Pick up the two unconscious ones, leave the wounded one. He’s probably dead already.” His men obliged, two of them lifting August and Maximilian onto their shoulders, carrying them with ease.
“You have to pick Werner up, please. You can save his life!” Friedrich begged, his eyes frantically switching between Werner and Sebastian.
Sebastian stared at Friedrich. His eyes were blue, icy blue. They looked extremely cold, it made Sebastian look like one big mean guy, and it was probably true. He wasn’t from around here, yet he was finding a war for the supposed freedom of the African people. He figured Sebastian had been through a lot, Friedrich certainly wouldn’t voluntarily be fighting a war down here, not unless he had some really good motivation, and he supposed Sebastian had that.
“No.” Sebastian replied sharply. “Don’t forget, you’re still an enemy. Living or dead, you’re my enemy as long as you’re with them.”
Friedrich sighed, raising his shoulders in a shrug. “Fine, fine.”
Sebastian offered a small, but apologetic smile. “Sorry, it’s policy.” He nodded his head, gesturing for Friedrich and his men to follow with him. “Come along, you’re a prisoner.”
Friedrich snorted, following after. He had no other choice, they would probably just kill him if he refused to follow, and if they didn’t, he would be stuck all alone in the jungle. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to fight Sebastian, he seemed like an okay guy for a revolutionary.