SFSD 6.0 Round 2 Entry. Quote off.

Quotes used:

SET # 1

9 - "Well, you get a little speechy, all right? And I breeze out. I got the Cliff Notes—honour and humanity. Absolute good. I heard it. So here's the plot twist—I'm in."

SET # 2

3 - "This goes beyond anything I've ever done. It's a total loss of control, and not in a nice, wholesome, my-girlfriend-has-a-pierced-tongue kind of way.

SET # 3

5 - "You'll forgive me, Madam President, if I don't wish to be executed based solely o­n your gut feeling."

SET # 4

8 - Sorry, all class 8 research is classified.

SET # 5

2 - This may be my favorite conversation of all time.

(Pic on the side courtesy of the lovely hellvis. Ell is cool, like that. :) )

__________________________________________________________________________

Resistance is Not Futile

Andrew looked up as there was a sudden power failure in the library. He sighed in frustration. He had taken the day off from work so that he could finish his coursework and subsequently his degree; he needed it badly for the promotion that was promised to him. After ten minutes and only the emergency back up lights had come on. He groaned and left the library.

He walked for a few blocks and stopped to look at the New Big Ben across the street. It had been digitised and a line for date added. In his hand he held a book, the cover picture was of the old Big Ben when it had been a giant clock. Andrew always felt that that was a lot better looking aesthetically but the government felt that function was more important over form or tradition.

He sat down on the bench waiting for the bus and casually started reading at a random page. It detailed how a strain of the H1N1 virus had mutated and ended up being the cause of death of about three fourth of the population of Great Britain. Since the initial outbreak was confined to Britain, the rest of the world had informally quarantined the entire area with even international navies patrolling the waters to make sure no one escaped. Thus when a cure was found, the British refused to share it with the world when the virus spread. Riots and chaos had forced the world into disarray and Britain had regained her dominance over the earth as it was the only stable one left.

Andrew reread the the statistics about the number of deaths again, it didn't make any sense to him. If that were true there wouldn't be so many people left here now. He did the math again and again and still came up different. Of course, he couldn't question the statistics in a government issue book but it bothered him.

To clear his head, he decided to walk to his flat, the bus wouldn't arrive for another ten minutes anyway and he knew a short cut by foot. Cutting through an alley and not looking where he was going, he crashed into a tall man in a trench coat which sent him sprawling on the floor but the other man was still standing. He felt as if he had hit a wall.

“Sorry,” he muttered and held out his hand to help Andrew up.

As he pulled him up, they could hear muffled shouts and hurried footsteps in their direction. One voice clearly called out, “I'm sure he went this way. Come on men. Hurry up!”

Andrew looked at the man, he was atleast a few inches taller than his own six foot and was more built and obviously stronger. Deciding to take a risk, he pointed towards the garbage cans, the man hesitated, then nodded and slipped into one noiselessly.

Seconds later the owners of the voices reached Andrew. Three lawmen wearing the black suit and tie with the badge of the lawmen pinned to their coats approached him.

“Did you see a guy run this way?” asked the leader, “taller than you, wearing a trench coat; brown hair.”

Andrew stared at the man for a second longer, “huh? Oh, yeah. He went that way,” he pointed towards the end of the street, “knocked me down too.”

One of the lawmen was wearing bulky sunglasses and looked at Andrew for longer than necessary. He knew what that was for, they were trying to find matches in the facial recognition system. With the rampant advent of online social networks, CCTVs and other digital technology, the government always knew everything about you.

The leader motioned to the others and they hurried away. Andrew waited for a few minutes till the noises died down and then walked towards the garbage can. He knocked on it lightly, “alright, you can come out.”

The man jumped out and turned towards him, “thanks. I owe you one.”

“I hope you haven't killed anyone or something.”

“Nah. Not today.” He winked.

Andrew took a step back. The man extended his hand, “Bernard. Bernard Shaw.”

Andrew looked at him and shook his head, “try harder.”

“Sorry,” the man gave him an apologetic smile, “Allen Poe.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

“No one has ever caught me twice,” the man mused. “Just call me George, OK?”

“OK.”

“And you are...”

“Jesus Christ, your saviour.”

The man raised his eyebrow this time.

“I'm joking,” Andrew said in an obvious tone, “Andrew White.”

“Well Andrew, thank you again. But I really must go and it is not in your best interest to be seen with me.”

“What did you do?”

The man looked at him quizzically, “you really want to know?”

“I wouldn't have asked you otherwise.”

“I took out the CCTV system by overloading the power grid tying into it. That power failure a little earlier was my doing.” He said rather proudly.

Andrew didn't know whether to applaud the man's genius or kick him for interrupting his studies and wasting his day.

Suddenly they heard clapping behind them.

“You disappoint us, Andrew White,” the leader of the lawmen pronounced his name in a mocking way, “the state spares you and yet you are nothing but a chip of the old block. Protecting this terrorist is treason. The state is not lenient towards traitors. It was a grave mistake on your part.”

“Not as grave as yours,” commented George.

“Really terrorist? Pray tell us what our mistake is.”

“You are too cocky to draw your guns on us.”

Before anyone could react, George had already rammed into one of the lawmen. He pulled the man's gun and shot him, used him as a shield and shot the other man, leaving only the leader. He tossed the body aside and shot the leader in the shoulder first and then in his knees. He approached the helpless man pointing the gun at his head.

“You cannot get away with this...you...you...freak...you...abomination. We will get you, we will kill you,” the lawman said lying on his back trying to squirm away from George.

“Not today.” He shot him through the head twice.

George proceeded to relieve the dead lawmen of all their weapons and cash, and took their mobile phones apart. He threw all the bodies in the garbage can and covered them with garbage.

Andrew was still shocked and rooted to the spot.

“Andrew? Mate? Let's go. We can't stay here, it's not safe.”

He tried to drag him along. Andrew shrugged his hands away, “Woah! What the hell?! You just killed three lawmen! Three! This is insane man! This...This...This goes beyond anything I've ever done. It's a total loss of control, and not in a nice, wholesome, my-girlfriend-has-a-pierced-tongue kind of way.” He squatted down with his head on his knees mumbling and shivering.

Andrew couldn't resist when George pulled him up with inhuman strength.

“Andrew, we need to go. I'll explain everything but first we really have to go.”

Andrew nodded and they walked silently to his flat. Before entering the building, George looked up and down the street to ensure that they were not being trailed, and hurried to catch up with Andrew as they rode the lift to the fourth floor.

Andrew plopped down on the sofa and leaned back letting his neck rest on the edge. He was massaging his temples with his fingertips and mumbling incoherently.

“Andrew? “

He finally stopped and sat up front with his elbows at his knees and looking at the floor, “what just happened, George? Why were they chasing you? Why did you kill them?”

He finally looked up at George. George took a long breath and opened his mouth to say something but then shut it. Andrew stood up frustrated and walked to the fridge. He grabbed a bottle of cold water and tossed one at George. They both stood at the opposite ends of the room gulping down their respective bottles.

Finally George spoke up, “they were after me because I broke into the Internal Security Ministry and destroyed the CCTV infrastructure for almost the entire country. I would have gotten away if I was a little more careful.”

Andrew choked on his water, “the entire country?”

“Yup,” he said popping the 'P' like a teenager, “while trying to get away I inadvertently triggered a perimeter alarm and these guys have been chasing me. I had to kill them. They'd have killed us both and labelled us terrorists, make a report of how three brave lawmen took out a couple of dangerous heavily armed terrorists out to destabilise the country...blah...blah...”

“Or they'd have arrested us and we could have faced justice.”

“Justice?” he snorted, “we'll be tried for treason. Did you know anyone accused of treason is not entitled to a lawyer by law? Only if anyone volunteers to try to save our arse we have a chance. Then again, how many lawyers will actually want to defend a traitor?”

“We would've been accused only. Innocent until proven guilty!” Andrew raised his voice.

George looked at Andrew and shook his head, “you look like a clever fellow; you probably read the papers, watch the news and all that. How many people accused of treason have you seen walk away after being acquitted?”

Andrew kept staring at George, “well, um...”

“That's all, my lord,” George offered a mock bow.

Andrew felt drained and his head hurt in new places, “I'm going to sleep. You can crash on the couch. Leave before I wake up in the morning, I'll just assume this was all a bad dream. A really bad dream.”

George nodded solemnly, “thank you. I may be gone long before that.”

Just as Andrew was about to enter his room, George called out to him, “Andrew, what was it that man was saying about you being a chip of the old block?”

Andrew hesitated for a second, “I'm not sure. My parents died when I was very young. Good night George.” He closed the door.

Andrew woke up cursing when he felt water being sprayed at his face. He sat up and opened his eyes to see a lawman sitting at the foot of his bed with a glass of water and several other masked and heavily armed policemen with their weapons aimed at him.

“Good,” the lawman looked at his watch, “morning Mr. White. Now, behave yourself, get dressed and let's go. There's quite a few questions we need answers for.”

“I don't understand. What's happening?” asked Andrew.

“This,” said the man handing Andrew his book, “was found at the site of the bodies of three murdered lawmen.”

“I'm innocent. I didn't do it,” he said too quickly.

“In that case, you should have no problem in coming down to the station and answering a few questions, would you?”

“Umm...no.”

“Good. Get dressed and brush your teeth, the commissioner is a stickler for hygiene. These men will watch your every step even if you have to take a dump.”

“I'll pass.”

The lawman walked out of the room to wait for him leaving the policemen to stand guard. Andrew dressed and brushed hurriedly.

Outside the building, there was a dozen cars and more armed men, the entire block was cordoned off and Andrew could see faces in every window. He was handcuffed and unceremoniously pushed into the backseat of a car. The lawman took the front seat.

A crisp looking blonde woman was at the wheel. When the lawman nodded at her, she turned back towards Andrew.

“Andrew White, you are being taken in for questioning regarding the murder of three lawmen earlier this evening who were possibly chasing a terrorist in connection with another crime. Do you understand?”

He nodded.

“I need verbal confirmation. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said.

She turned back to the front and entered some data into the tablet that she held in her hand.

“OK, sir. It's done,” she said to the lawman.

He turned back slowly and stared at Andrew as the woman started driving. Andrew noticed that only one of the cars was following them. The rest of the policemen and lawmen would undoubtedly be checking his house and his car and everything he possessed. At that particular point, he was pleased to have had been single. This would have been very difficult to explain to a wife or girlfriend.

“Here's the deal Andrew. You tell us where you're hiding that terrorist and we'll let you live. I'm not going to say that you'll get to live it peacefully in your house or even have a normal life. But you'll live.”

“What terrorist?” asked Andrew in his most innocent voice.

The man sighed, “we can play this all day, boy. It's not the police that have you, it's the lawmen. You know our reach, we don't even have to answer to the courts. So unless you and the Prime Minister or the President are chums, you better start cooperating.”

Andrew looked at the floor. Ever since the revolution leaders had gone corrupt and dissolved the parliament, they had imprisoned the monarchy in their own homes and had created the position of President, appointing a woman so as to show the equality of their revolutionary ideas. In fact, the appointed President held more power than the elected Prime Minister. The lawmen were created as an extension of the police force without any accountability to the public.

“He is a resilient one, sir. This will be fun,” said the woman.

The man laughed lightly and turned towards Andrew again, “Anna likes interrogating suspects. She gets them to talk in very little time. Something about pain receptors and heat and electricity; I'm not entirely sure of the science but she has it pinned down.”

Andrew shuddered.

They heard a huge crash behind them. The woman looked in the mirror.

“Shit. Someone just rammed into the escort and pushed it off the road. They are following us now,” the woman said calmly. Andrew was both turned on and terrified of her calm demeanour.

“Friends of yours?” said the lawman checking his gun. He lowered his window and twisted in his seat and started shooting at the much larger pick up truck. The pick up accelerated and crashed into the car, shaking the occupants. It slowed and accelerated once more crashing into the car with more force making the car swerve out of control. The pick up then crashed into the driver side of the car and pinned it against a lamp post.

A tall man in a trench coat jumped out of the pick up and ran towards Andrew's door. He broke the bullet proof glass with one punch and pulled Andrew out effortlessly.

“Come with me if you want to live,” George said.

Andrew hesitated for a second and then nodded showing him the handcuffs. George simply pulled and snapped the chain in the middle, “we'll get it off later.”

They heard a shot and George clutched his shoulder gasping in pain. He looked around to find the lawman holding a gun and trying to get off another shot.

“Down!” he pushed Andrew down and leaped at the lawman. Even with a bullet wound, George seemed unstoppable as he easily broke his wrist and acquired the gun. He pointed it at the lawman, “looks like my count is going up today.”

He shot the lawman and the driver, and tossed the gun back into the car.

“Come on, let's go,” he pushed Andrew along and they started running through side streets and alleys.

“You're shot.”

“I'll be fine. We have to get through to district twenty three, there's a safe house there.”

“District twenty three? That's the slums.”

“Yeah. The safest place for us now.”

After an hour's hike, they reached the outskirts of the city. For the first time in his twenty five years' life, Andrew stepped out of the city limits and into the slums. Andrew knew from the books and news that illegal immigrants, criminals and outlaws lived here. But what he saw was quite different. Here was a mass of people, normal people, devoid of the luxuries that he enjoyed.

George pulled him along and they hurried through. At one point they saw a contingent of heavily armed policemen questioning people and even beating them up. A couple of them took pleasure in upsetting stalls and chasing women. Andrew felt disgusted by what he saw.

Finally, they entered a narrow lane and walked towards a dead end.

“This is where she said it'd be,” said a confused George still clutching his shoulder.

“And she is never wrong,” a woman wearing a headscarf appeared out of nowhere pointing a gun and what looked like a big mobile phone at Andrew.

“I knew you'd pick up another stray. Hence, the scanner,” she said waving the device.

“You were always the clever one, Aisha.”

“Alright, this one looks safe. He best not try anything.”

“I don't think he's in any state to.”

“I'm standing right here,” said Andrew.

“Shush. We'll get to you,” said Aisha, “you OK, big guy?” she had just noticed the stain and tear on his coat.

“Just a flesh wound, it'll heal soon enough.”

“OK. Follow me.”

George motioned for Andrew to follow. Andrew was scowling at Aisha's back, George chuckled. Aisha led them to the dead end and pushed at the wall, it opened to reveal a door.

The three of them walked in and were greeted by a couple of armed men. They nodded at George, “good work George. Heard Internal Security is pissed about having no eyes now.” George laughed with them. One of the men removed Andrew's handcuffs.

The party of five walked down a flight of steps and reached another door. Aisha knocked.

“Come in.”

Aisha walked in followed by Andrew and George, the two armed men waited at the door.

“Looks like you brought a friend along,” said the man to George.

Andrew looked around George to see the owner of the voice. A grey haired black man was sat behind a rather large office table writing something.

“Have a seat please. I'll be just a moment.”

They all sat down and waited for the man. He finished writing, removed his reading glasses and looked straight at Andrew.

“My name is David Green. Welcome to the resistance.”

“Andrew. Andrew White.”

“Date of birth?” Aisha handed him a slip of paper and a pen. Andrew scribbled it down. She stood up and went to a computer console at the far end of the room.

“So Andrew, how much trouble are you in?”

“A lot,” he replied, “George just killed three lawm- no wait, four lawmen and a policewoman today. I'm a witness and possible accessory to the murders. So yeah, I'm in big trouble.”

The man looked at Aisha, she shook her head and handed him a couple of printouts. The man put his glasses back on and went through them slowly.

“These papers here tell me what the government wants me to know about you, Andrew. Of course this is enough in the world out there. But our rules are a bit different here. So let's start from the beginning. What is your name?” he said without looking up.

“Andrew White,” he replied, though less than confident.

The man removed his glasses again and leaned forward placing his elbows on the table, “Your real name please and no games. We have access to government files, but it takes time which I'm not willing to waste at the moment,” the man leaned back in his chair, “besides I have no qualms about throwing you back into the hungry lion's cage.”

Andrew looked around the room and then looked down, “Trevor Perdue.”

David looked at him closely, “your father?”

“Clive Perdue.”

“Tell me Trevor, what was the one thing that Clive really hated with a passion?”

“Weetabix. He couldn't stand the thing.”

David stood up surprised, “we thought they had killed you and dumped the the body or something.”

He turned to George, “Clive Perdue and his wife Mary Perdue were tried and convicted for treason. They were the first to be executed by hanging in public when Britain reinstated the death penalty. You must have been fourteen, fifteen when that happened?”

“Fourteen.”

Aisha walked back to the group, “son of the resistance.” She looked him up and down and shook her head disapprovingly.

He glared at her, she smiled back.

“Well, Trevor, looks like you have found your calling. Care to follow in your father's footsteps? He was a clever man, left back doors and trapdoors in every government system, that is how we get our information.”

“You can call me Andrew, I haven't been Trevor Perdue in a long time.”

“Well, you better start making up for lost time.”

There was a knock at the door and one of the men stationed outside poked his head in.

“Kumar is here,” he said.

“Tell him to wait in the situation room. I'll be there in a minute. Let Alex know to meet us there,” David said.

David turned to George and Andrew, “gentlemen, I have urgent business to take care of. We shall meet again later.”

David left the room, the remaining three occupants were staring at each other.

Finally, Andrew spoke up.

“Like David said, I guess I'll go back to using my name,” he extended his hand to George, “Trevor Perdue.”

George shook his hand smiling.

“This is where you tell me your real name,” Andrew, now calling himself Trevor, said.

George's smile vanished faster than it had come. He stood up and walked to the far corner of the room.

“He doesn't know his name. Nobody does,” Aisha said slowly, taking the seat that George had vacated, “all we know is that he was taken from his home when he hit puberty and had experiments done on him. Apparently he had some mutated rare gene condition. Not just him, there were quite a few kids taken that way. They had all these chemicals and radiation stuff injected and sprayed on them. As a result, he is faster and stronger than the rest of us; he also heals quicker. The files regarding those experiments don't exist in any database on the network. He doesn't remember his past, it's like the life he had before the experiments has completely been erased.”

She turned to look at George who was staring at the various bits and pieces of paper pinned to the wall. Aisha stood up and motioned for Trevor to follow her and called George.

They went to the mess hall and were greeted with the smell of cooked food and cigarettes.

“What is that smell?” asked Trevor.

“Cigarettes,” said Aisha, “I'm not a fan of the smell either. George enjoys the odd smoke.”

They collected their food and found an empty table, Trevor and George sitting opposite Aisha. Many people passing them were congratulating and patting George's back for his work in destroying the CCTV system.

The room fell into a hushed silence when David walked in followed by three other men and two women. He climbed atop a table.

“Alright boys and girls. Tonight is the night. We have planned a three pronged attack. Physical assault on the Ministry of Defence, capture of the President's palace and a cyber attack on the financial network. We fight this fight for our brothers and sisters living in oppression, for those who died for their freedom, to ensure that our children are born and raised free, for humanity still lives within us,” he said.

Trevor zoned out in between the speech as he started thinking of the day when his parents were taken in for questioning by the lawmen. They never came back and he was placed in foster care, shuttling between homes till he was old enough and then kicked out onto the street. He looked up when he heard applause all round and joined in. David walked up to his table and sat next to Aisha.

“Nice of you to join us, Trevor. In about three hours, we will begin this assault. For sure a lot of will die but it has to be done. Thankfully, we have support from some policemen and sections of the army.”

“Police and army? You trust them? It could be a trap.”

“It could have been, but we have run tests and rooted out a couple of spies. Well, you never know if there are more. I have put the units on battle ready for days now, no one knew until now that we are going to attack tonight.”

“Capturing the presidential palace would be a huge advantage. You can control pretty much every system and even the defence network from there,” commented Aisha.

“I'd like to come along,” said Trevor.

David chuckled, “surely not. You have no combat training or weapons training. We wouldn't want to lose you by being stupid.”

“I'm an expert level computer programmer and analyst, in fact I can rewrite pretty much any code to do anything.”

“The answer is no, Trevor. You weren't even listening to my briefing earlier.”

“Well, you get a little speechy, all right? And I breeze out. I got the Cliff Notes—honour and humanity. Absolute good. I heard it. So here's the plot twist—I'm in."

David looked at George who nodded amused.

He sighed, “OK. But if you get killed it's your own fault.”

“I can handle that, I'm a big boy.”

David left them to discuss more ideas and strategies. After a silent dinner they prepared for the attack. Trevor, George and Aisha decided to join the team attacking the presidential palace even though David requested Trevor to aid the financial attack. A unit of resistance soldiers would attack the palace and draw out the defences, allowing another unit to enter and destroy any remaining resistance and capture the palace.

The attack was more brutal than anyone had expected. Casualties mounted on both sides. The attack on the Ministry of Defence had better results as an unexpectedly large number of soldiers joined the resistance side.

The three of them had somehow managed to get inside the palace and shoot their way through with Trevor shooting in all random directions and actually scoring a kill, more by luck than skill, though that did save George from being shot.

Their luck ran out when they were cornered by four of the president's bodyguards.

“Drop your weapons and come with us,” said one of them.

George nodded and they let themselves be taken away. They were taken up a winding series of steps, they could hear gunshots getting closer and closer and realised that any time now the resistance would win this battle.

They entered a room and saw the president standing alone with a gun in her hand.

“What is this? Who is this? Where is my helicopter?”

“These are the fighters we caught ma'm. Your helicopter has been destroyed.”

The president looked exasperated and groaned.

She looked them all up and down properly, lingering on Gerorge for longer than necessary.

“You! I know you.”

“Of course you would, doctor Simmons. You created me.”

She stared at him longer, “specimen number thirteen,” she muttered and looked at the other two, “who are these? More lab rats?”

George didn't respond to that, “what is my name?” he asked her.

“Pity you will never know. My gut tells me that I need to shoot you and these two here, right now.”

"You'll forgive me, Madam President, if I don't wish to be executed based solely on your gut feeling."

“To waste such a fine specimen as...”

Before the president could finish her sentence, George had already charged at her taking a shot to his shoulder in the process.

Aisha used the distraction, kicked the guard next to her in the groin and grabbed his gun. She shot the others who were busy trying to restrain George. Trevor did what he was good at and ducked.

“Please don't kill me,” said the president as George walked up to her.

“This may be my favourite conversation of all time,” said Aisha.

“What is my name? Who am I?” he shouted at her.

She managed to push herself a little away from George. Within a second, she broke her chain free and stuffed the pendant in her mouth, “you will never find out,” she laughed as she started convulsing and twitching.

“NO!” George shook her lifeless body as he sank to his knees. Aisha knelt next to him and hugged him sideways, cooing and comforting him.

Trevor looked around and found a computer in the corner of the room. He booted it up and realised that it was not on the network and contained classified information; he started looking through various databases that contained biological experiments information. He finally found the database he was looking for and entered: SPECIMEN 13.

The output read: ERROR. NOT FOUND.

He tried again and entered: SPECIMEN XIII

This time the output was: SORRY, ALL CLASS 8 RESEARCH IS CLASSIFIED. PLEASE PROVIDE BIOMETRIC CONFIRMATION.

He was startled as a hand was thrust beside him. He looked beside him to find that Aisha had dragged the president's body towards him at the console. George was staring outside the window and watching the resistance members toasting to a hard-fought victory.

“I knew you'd have something up your sleeve,” said Aisha.

Trevor smiled and motioned for her to place the president's hand on the security scanner. As soon as it was placed, the computer beeped and George's details began to appear on screen. Without looking at it, Trevor clicked on the print command and grabbed the papers as they came out of the printer and switched the screen off.

“Hey! I was trying to read that!” Aisha protested.

He pointed at George with the rolled up papers, “he's waited long enough. I reckon he should do the honours.”

“Fair enough.”

They hurried towards George and Aisha tapped him on the shoulder. Trevor handed him the papers.

He read them slowly and his eyes started watering. Finally he looked up at Aisha.

“Don't look at me, it was the wizard here,” she said.

He smiled and extended his hand to Trevor, “Adam York.”

THE END.