Chapter 2: A View to a Kill

Anele looked up. The work in the field always was hard, but at least she was mostly left alone. In the distance, from the old volcano, she saw flames and smoke rising, following behind what seemed to be a white stripe of sorts. She had never seen anything like it. It rose higher and higher in the sky, riding on the flames. She had been told that the masters had built great flying machines, was this one of them? She didn't know what it was, and certainly didn't know that it was a weapon that could decide the fate of millions.

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Hannah watched the first of her rockets rise up into the sky. It was a wonderful sight, one that she had dreamt of for years. From what she understood from the wretch this was a dangerous world, and within a few days she would be ready to strike anywhere in the world, with a kind of force beyond the understanding of its people. Just the way she liked it. Of course, others would see it, others would see the rise of such a terrific tool. But they would be too late to stop it. These Draka might try sending troops, but it would have to be at short notice. And that meant that it would never be enough to stop her. Or so she hoped.

Hiding was no option, and every moment she had waited would have given more time to her enemies. Unfortunately, the launch schedule couldn't be rushed, it had to fit with the exact hours to ensure the right positioning. Luckily, the rocket hadn't exploded, that would have been a true disaster. A new idea came to her, and she gave another order: "Mr. Kandinsky, please see to it that anyone who approaches your positions is killed. I do not want any sightseers."

But still, this was a disaster. How could she hold the whole world hostage if she could only inform them by radio? She had prepared for a wonderful message, to go right onto every screen. Of course, she would do it without hacking into networks or something impossible like that, just blowing up some place and then phoning in would easily do the trick. And then she would make the direct connection to the UN. Just like she always wanted to.

But now she would do it differently. She needed a proper way to get her demands across. And she needed more information, the monster was dead, and he didn't tell her nearly enough. Of course, there was the radio traffic, but that was meaningless. Just idle chatter, and news about some distant war against the Nazis. She would also have to hit them, and she would hit them hard. She might not always have been the most moral person, or actually, she was far from moral, but some things just went too far. Even for her.

Of course, all that was secondary to her getting what she wanted in the first place. She would be unbelievably rich, and no one would be allowed to oppose her. Especially not a bunch of racist superpowers. She didn't really believe it, it was impossible that they held all of Africa and the Middle East. That simply was beyond comprehension. She knew that she was being deceived. Her prisoner must have misinformed her out of sheer spite.

She looked at the departing rocket one last time, it was far away by now, but this would be the last time she could see it. Soon, very soon even it would leave her sight forever. All those years of work, all the calculations, all the testing, and of course, all the other less savoury things. She had done it, even with this annoying intervention in the way.

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Centurion Yvonne Black leaned back. She was bored, utterly and completely bored. Her task was simple, and she often thought that it would have been better if she could simply be on the battlefield. This was a serf's work. It was her task to gather the Citizens who were called up to serve in the whole area. But of course, one of them was late. He should have arrived by this morning at the latest, and now she had to collect him at his plantation.

It really was incomprehensible, how could anyone betray the Race like that? He had better have a very good excuse, or he would be very sorry. It was a long way by autosteamer, and she was about to fall asleep. If it weren't for the fact that it would reflect really poorly on her with her men. She had brought along a whole Lochos. Perhaps there was a revolt going on, and that explained why de Witt didn't show up.

In the distance she could make out the building where he had lived, all alone with his serfs. The vehicle stopped, and she stepped out. There were serfs, but they were still working. There were no signs of revolt, and all of them bowed their heads to the Citizens. She looked over them, and asked in a commanding voice: "Where is your master?"

She could see the fear. That was good. It meant that they had been disciplined. One of them spoke after a few moments: "He's gone up the mountain, madam."

He bore scars across his face, another good thing. It meant that he had been beaten enough to know how to behave to his betters. "When did he go?"

"Yesterday, madam.", came the answer.

Something was wrong, she knew it. And she gave the order to go up the mountain. With the whole Lochos. She would find the possible deserter, giving up was no option.

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Hannah was tired, she had been awake throughout the night, witnessing each of the launches. She couldn't sleep. This was too important for it. Of course, her people changed shifts, but she remained there, taking in all the news. There were no sighting reports being broadcast, but that meant nothing. This would be an agricultural area, with poor communications. She sipped her tea, savouring the taste. And of course, enjoying the little fact that it helped keep her awake. Soon everything would be finished, and she could sleep a little bit.

Suddenly she received a message: "Dr. Moritz, some sort of vehicle approaches. It appears military."

"Open fire when it comes within range. Nothing can be allowed to disturb the plan."

She remained where she was. There was no point in waiting. But then she thought a little more. Some sort of vehicle? What was the meaning of that? If it was a car or a truck he could just have said that. But what else could it be? Some sort of armoured vehicle? She hardly had anything to deal with that, only having purchased a few small rockets after the incident with an Aston-Martin that simply couldn't be damaged with normal weapons. She hated those spies, and now she couldn't even blow them up anymore.

That didn't matter, and she couldn't call again. It was better to not disturb her troops when they were getting into a firefight. They should be able to handle almost anything, and if they couldn't, they would simply inform her.

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One moment, Yvonne was watching the landscape, when she saw a plume of flame ahead of her. A moment later something slammed into the autosteamer, and the whole world exploded.

She staggered, not knowing where she went, or what she was doing. Her ears were screaming, and she couldn't see properly. She was too dizzy. Everything hurt, and she staggered further. And she fell.

On the ground she recovered her sight, and it shocked her. The autosteamer was a burning wreck, with corpses hanging from it. There were parts of bodies and the vehicle everywhere, and she saw one of her men simply being gunned down. They were under heavy fire. She didn't understand. Not in the middle of the Domination. Bushmen didn't have such weapons. The centurion reached for her weapon. Any weapon, but she found that she only had her pistol. She aimed it in the general direction of the enemy, but it refused to fire.

She had to do something. She couldn't just remain there. They had been ambushed by someone with heavy weapons, and she had to tell others. She had to get reinforcements. Slowly, the wounded woman started to crawl away, keeping to the undergrowth, hopefully remaining hidden.

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Everything had went perfectly, Hannah thought as she heard the news of the brief firefight. Unfortunately, the vehicle had been damaged too heavily to draw any conclusions from it, but she was told that it looked like some sort of steam engine. There were no survivors, and her men were in the process of gathering useful bits of information. Mostly in the form of mangled weapons, uniforms and the like. Although she had been told that they had found part of a newspaper.

But if a military patrol had come, it meant that they were part of a bigger force, and that she would soon come under attack. And she still needed seven more hours to launch everything. And then everything had to be readied. She fidgeted with her pen, and was actually getting nervous. She needed something to do, something other than what was already turning into the monotony of the launches. Of course, she liked the continual sequence of perfectly ordered work, but sometimes she wished for something more. Or she would simply fall asleep.

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As soon as she was clear, Yvonne broke into a run. She had to get back as fast as possible. They needed reinforcements to deal with these bushmen. They were too strong. Far too strong. They needed to bring serious forces here, and some questions had to be asked. Where on earth did such savages get that sort of weaponry? And how could they just set up a base in the heart of the Domination?

She didn't know, but at least she wasn't badly wounded. Unlike the others. This would be the end of her career, she knew it. She heard a roar behind her, and looked back. Smoke was rising over the caldera, behind her. And above that smoke something soared up into the air. Some sort to aircraft, but different. Driven forwards, no, upwards by flames. It was huge, almost the size of an airship. She simply stood still, she couldn't explain what it was, but it certainly wasn't something that some bushmen could have. Perhaps one of the savage nations outside the Domination, or their own scientists could build such a monstrous thing, but not here, not in the wilderness.

With that sight burned into her, the centurion ran as fast as she could, hopefully de Witt would have a telephone in his house. She had to contact her superiors. This was far greater than a missing man.