In Progress Project Alpha

Still don't have a title, which makes me feel bad. So far, I have the Prologue and Chapters 1-3. This was pretty much spur of the moment, so I'll take all the C+C you throw at me.

Prologue

“Order! Order!” screamed the chairman at the delegates.

“Now, can we not discuss this matter as the proper diplomats we are?” A sepulchral silence fell upon the grand hall. The final echoes of the uproar died down, and began to resonate among the room. Rows upon rows of delegates continued as far as the eye could see, each and every one of them embarrassed of their actions. At least 20 more nations had joined the United Nations since the 2000’s, but the most infamous of this group was Akkania.

Akkania was founded on a remote archipelago in the Pacific Ocean. It was located in such a position that neither Asians nor Americans could easily spot it, and if they did, the islands looked much smaller than they actually were. The native people were the Kr’ai, war-like tribesmen always looking for new sources of treasure and riches. Ultimately, this is what led them to massive infighting and the fragmentation of their society.

One fateful day, back when the world was not that young but not that old, the USS Integrity, fresh off the coast of Japan, smashed into some sharp rocks. After several violent storms and winds, it winded up on the island’s shore. About fifty men, with most of their provisions and weapons intact, manned the warship. The crew filed out, muskets in hand, ready for any natives who might try to attack. The Kr’ai, hidden in the shadows, carefully abandoned their posts behind trees and bushes. As they observed the white men, the natives thought they were gods, and the whites were brought back to the village for a feast in their honor. Once they arrived, the feast began. Bowls of fruit, plates of meat, and other foods were piled on the table. The men took their fill until they were satisfied; all except, of course, the captain, who wanted to keep his wits sharp. Eventually, the captain congregated his crew on the Integrity.

“Men,” he said, “according to the tribe, there are many other groups scattered. We shall take this island by force; take their women, their children, and raise a race worthy of praise. We must deceive this tribe; we must convince them to help us achieve our goals. When the time is right, they too will be added to the pile of bodies, but not before they show us how to survive this infernal jungle wasteland” said the captain.

A deafening cheer rose from the crew, excited about their new mission. Immediately after that, a loud battle cry rang through the jungle. The tribe was being attacked!

“Men, to arms!” boomed the captain.

It took a while to get back to the village, but the sailors got there just in the nick of time. The invaders were making their way through the main pathways of the village.

“Ready?” the captain said as he raised his hand. About half the crew got down on one knee, the rest stayed standing up.

“Aim!” he said as the muskets cocked.

“Fire!” a cloud of smoke formed in front of them.

About 10 invading warriors fell. Others had wounds on their arms, legs, and torso. The remainder fled back into the forest. The local tribe, grateful for their rescue, offered anything they wanted; gold, women, land, the locals gesticulated. The captain answered saying he just wanted to learn their ways.

Soon enough, the entirety of the crew knew the ways of the wild. Although some of the natives fell sick and died of illnesses brought by the sailors, they denied everything, and blamed the spirits of the Kr’ai. They were trained so well in their ways, the crew could distinguish good fruit from bad, what to hunt, where to sleep, what to use as medicines. About a year later, the captain congregated the crew one more time. Giving the final directives, each man took their rifles and gunpowder. Then, somberly, they marched towards the village.

The men were dead. Women and children were taken to be raised in the ways of the sailors. From there, the crew went on to slaughter the other tribes on their island. The country known as Akkania slowly began to develop…

“Good evening, fellow delegates and distinguished members of the board,” began the Akkanian delegate, “as we know, we are on the brink of world-wide catastrophe. The only solution? Give in to the Blackhearts’ demands and continue buying their oil, no matter how expensive. They will start a war, no matter how bloody, to protect their God-given oil and the right to set the price” finished the delegate, a glint in his eye. Another delegate, Bjorn Sigurdsson of Norway, stood up.

“Pardon me, fellow delegate, but would it not be a better choice to simply cut back ever so slightly on oil? There is so little left. For almost 300 years we’ve been filling this planet with unnecessary pollution. Should we not protect this planet? It is our God-given gift as well, Akkania” finished Sigurdsson. Once again, a tumult began forming in the room, filling it with innumerable sounds…

Chapter 1-Epifanio

Epifanio, a tall, lanky Puerto Rican guy in his twenties, went to the study in his house. His 6-foot-two frame plunked down into the rolling chair, and he spun a bit before he got down to business. He turned on his custom made computer, built by his own hands, and opened his e-mail. “It has to be custom-made” Roberto, his older brother, would say, “much better than stock computers” and, boy, was he right. Epifanio’s baby, as he called it, had two monitors, and Epifanio went out of his way to get quality parts. At the moment, it was able to run a high-def movie on one screen and a video chat with no lag at all on the other. While his computer loaded his e-mail messages, he made sure his puffy brown hair was as messy as possible. If there was something he hated, it was getting his hair cut. He detested being plonked in a chair, no freedom at all. He touched a small scar behind his ear. Epifanio shuddered; he didn’t want to think about it. Meanwhile Em7 invited him to a video chat. He accepted, and greeted the girl on his screen. She was wearing a pink tank top, with the words ‘Believe’ written in silver glitter; her tidy room served as a backdrop. It was adorned by posters of male actors and boy bands.

“How’s it going, Emma? Is everything fine over there?” asked Epifanio.

“Oh, fine Epi. If by fine you mean that my petition for more strict drilling laws still hasn’t been heard of in over a year. I swear I’ll rip their throats and chop it up and feed it to their spouses and children while those bloody Blackhearts watch. And”, she continued with an evil gleam in her eye, “If they protest I’ll feed their throats to them, as well”.

“Whoa, Emma. Calm down. It’ll just be a matter of time before Parliament accepts your proposal”.

“I hope. Those no-good greedy Blackhearts in Parliament just outnumber us” she protested, “Personally, I find it unbelievable that they’d drill in the South Pole. There are penguins there! Everyone likes penguins. It’s near impossible to hate them, even if you get mauled by one. They’re just little bundles of tuxedos and feathers”. This is part of the reason she likes penguins, because part of their habitat is the ocean. The other part is that they’re penguins, just like some people love baseball and can’t express it in words.

Emma was an English girl, with beautiful golden brown curls. She also had one of the fairest complexions he had ever seen; once, long ago, Epi managed to “accidentally” touch it, and it was so soft it almost felt like a down quilt. And something else that he liked about Emma was the fact that she had proper pronunciation, unlike his English, which was mixed into Spanglish. It’s hard to believe such an attractive girl would hang out with Epifanio, other young Green-backs would say; young Blackhearts would say it was such a loss that Emma was a Green-back. She was quite easy to provoke, and she’d rip the head off just about anyone. Once, Epifanio had heard that she almost killed her seventh grade English teacher with a bottle of glue.“The author said the curtains were blue because they’re goddamned blue!” she’d scream. She actually got quite a few supporters on that campaign; some said even the principal backed her up. Secretly, though, Epifanio had a crush on her ever since they met when they were thirteen, at some math competition. She was just so beautiful, just staring at her eyes would bring back memories of the ocean; with some algae, but still the ocean. Just for a moment, he was transported to that fateful day:

He had gone to New York to participate in the International Math Counts, and he had trained about three hours a day just for these competitions. Once he sat down with the two other kids from Puerto Rico, Epifanio started looking around; the Chinese kids, one with small streaks of gray in his hair; the French kids, each one smelling like freshly baked bread; and the British team, light-skinned kids who had golden brown hair. They looked like and were siblings, and he just couldn’t keep the eyes of the girl.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” said Noel, a friend of his, once he noticed that he was staring at her, nudging him; “You should make a move. You’re just a Plan B back home”.

At the fifteen minute break, he went straight towards her.
“H-hi. I’m Epifanio R-rivera”.

“Emma Parker, pleased to meet you” she said giving him a stern handshake.

“So how long have you been a mathlete?” asked Emma.

“Not much, this is my first year” answered Epifanio.

“So, Epie-Eepee- can I just call you Epi?” Emma said.

“No problem” Epifanio answered, grinning with renewed confidence of his new nickname. He’d never had one of those; he’d just been Epifanio, the smart kid who barely talked in class. Epifanio, the one who barley went to parties.

“I’m guessing you’ve never had a nickname before” Emma said, squinting at him. Epifanio just stared at her in surprise. “Yeah, I can read people like that” she said. Then Epi laughed, and Emma joined in.

“Here’s my Skype” she said as she wrote something on a slip of paper, “and my number, in case you need training” she said, smiling.

“Th-thanks” Epifanio said, blushing and walking away toward his table.

The competition was fierce, and they finished a respectable fifth place against about thirty other countries. The Brits finished third, but Epi wasn’t one to hold grudges. He went to talk to Emma, and was greeted with a “Good game” offering her hand to shake. He shook back, as a good sportsman does.

“Let’s go tour the city. You Brits might want to go see Broadway” said Epifanio jokingly. Emma giggled and nodded. After that, they went on and on around the city, Epifanio recalling every detail his dad told him about most of the things in New York. On the way back, he questioned Emma about the things they saw.

“Marvelous, simply marvelous!” she said in her cute British accent, “The view at the Empire State Building and the Rockefeller Center was incredible, and it was hilarious when you fell down the ice rink”.

“Oh shut up” he answered. Ever since then, they’ve maintained contact over the Internet.

Epifanio then snapped back to reality.

“Hello, dummy. Are you even paying attention?”

“Yes, I am. And everything will be fine” Epifanio said in a calm voice.

“Oh, stop kidding yourself. I’ve been trying to create conscience toward the environment- hell, my whole mum’s family has done it since my great-grandma- and people still aren’t convinced. In fact, opposition has risen dramatically, as not being a Blackheart or Green-back seriously hurts people’s social life. Blackhearts only hire Blackhearts, and vice versa” said Emma. “The economy is just one step away from the pits, so people side with the Blackhearts. But, let’s change the subject. I don’t want to be selfish. How are things over there?” she added calmly.

“Okay, I guess. Social networking has seriously helped in the last 60 years or so, but we need something else. We need to convince the U.S. But how?” wondered Epifanio.

A smirk crept up on Emma’s face.

“No. No, no, no, no and no! We will not instigate an armed revolution.” Epi protested.

“Who said it’s armed? We just need the support of the U.S, and we’ll be set, as I’ve often said. If war erupts, so be it. The world has already beaten us to it. Egypt is already beating the crap out of itself! I won’t be surprised if the U.S splits itself again for the second time in 200 years” said Emma.

Epi sighed. “I guess I could try to contact the resident commissioner. No promises. That guy is a douche; he even turns his head away, if he sees someone with skin like mine” he answered, pointing to his copper skin.

Emma clapped like a little girl. “Yay! Finally you decide to cooperate!” she said as a knock on the door was heard.

“Shit, my dad’s arrived. You know he’s one of those extreme Blackhearts. Talk to you later” Emma said as she turned off the computer. Epifanio wondered: how could she deal with a Blackheart dad? Surely he must’ve noticed her Green-back activity. Then again, she hid the fact that she was pretty much a serial killer, minus the killing part. So he trusted her to not give anything away and, knowing her, somehow make an appearance in the news. He also pondered why her father and mother had married, and still hadn’t divorced; they were on opposite sides of the conflict. Perhaps her mom died, perhaps she had kept her alignment a secret; but whatever it was, Emma’s ability at keeping secrets came from her.

Re: Project Revolution

Chapter 2-Emma

Emma greeted her father as he came through the door and into the flat. He was a middle-aged man, in-shape, with a thin veil of salt-and-pepper hair.

“Hi, daddy! How was work?” Emma asked, seemingly innocent.

“Great, except the fact I was almost blown up by one of those Molotov cocktails! I remember when I threw those in the Riots, but I was young and stupid. Now that I’ve matured and learned to be civilized and behave, I can see the error of my old ways”. Emma’s dad was one of the blackest Blackhearts in the area, even working for some guy in Parliament. Quite unconventional, as his daughter, unbeknownst to him, was the leader of the Green-backs in the area. She was quite jealous that her father, of all people, got to participate in the early-century London riots.

“You’re stupid and uncivilized now” she whispered under her breath.

“What’s that, honey?” said her father, as he was reading the newspaper.

“Nothing” Emma responded.

“Emma dear, look at this! It seems Robby from next door was one of those horrible Green-backs. It says he harassed some poor, poor Blackheart who was trying to buy some BP stock.”

“Yes, father” answered Emma, in a tired voice. In reality, Robby had accidently bumped into a man buying BP stock, but the Daily Black had to exaggerate, didn’t it? Emma longingly stared at the sunset. Wouldn’t it be amazing if she could keep seeing that when she was old and gray? She headed to her room without another word. There she turned on her computer and sent an email to all the Green-backs in London and the surrounding areas, cautioning them to be more careful, in code words of course. The message, published on every major news outlet after the revolution, ran something like this:

English Club:
Today we’re meeting at the London Eye, to discuss some important issues! Please be on time, as it is urgent all of you are there! But be careful, as this is our super-secret special meeting! NO ONE other than you can know of this meeting. Please delete this message once you have read it.
Luv Emma ♥J♥[sic]

Obviously, “English Club” was really the code word for the Youth London Chapter of the Green-backs. So, in the dark of that very night, Emma set off to the London Eye to meet up with her Greenmates, as she called them. It was a beautiful night; cloudless, but starless unfortunately. Pollution’s fault, thought Emma, disgusted.

“Hullo, everyone! Ready for Club?” she asked in a hushed but peppy tone, accompanied by a mischievous smile.

“Shut yer trap, Emma, before the coppers find us out!” said a masculine voice from the back. It belonged to Dakota, a Scottish guy who was almost thirty. He had ginger hair, and was a bit on the chubby side.

“I’m surprised, Dakota. I thought they’d be more scared of you than you of them, you being a ginger and all” replied Emma. A restrained chuckle washed over the group, but it quickly died down as Dakota gave a look that could curdle milk.

“Ok, people, calm down” Emma started, “Let’s get to serious matters. Rob, our vice-president, was arrested, as you probably know”.

“I didn’t know” squeaked a little voice from behind.

“You never know anything, Leslie” someone else said.

“Quiet!” Dakota barked. Even though he and Emma didn’t seem to get along well, they were friends since childhood, always having each other’s back.

“This means that they could torture him to pry information from him”, Emma continued, “and, as you know, the Secretary of Defense is a Blackheart. He’ll, at least, order to question him, but at worst, he’ll sentence him to death for ‘treachery against the nation’ and make up some weird charges. We better get moving. Recon told me they had incarcerated him in a room under Buckingham Palace. We must rescue him, as most Blackies would love to hear him squeal out information.”

“He’ll be squealin’ out for mercy, which they’ll relish like a cold Sunday mornin’” added Dakota. Emma nodded.

“And how do you plan to do rescue Robert?” inquired Leslie.

“Simple,” said Emma, “we break into Buckingham Palace”.

Re: Project Revolution

Chapter 3-Emma

What do you mean you’re going to rescue Rob?!” screamed Epifanio over the video chat, “Don’t you know he’s being held in Buckingham Palace?!”

“I did, and please don’t worry, Epi,” Emma calmly said, “I’m gonna be fine, he’s gonna be fine, and we’re all gonna be fine. And how did you know that about Rob?”

Epifanio smirked. “Planted some stuff in one of our emails. I can remotely control your computer. That’s one of the advantages of being an A-grade hacker. Besides, I was suspecting you were going to appear in the news sooner or later because of one of your crazy stunts”.

“Really? I’m flattered to hear you say that.” Emma replied. It was now nearing noon, and Emma had coordinated most of the details pertaining the attack. It was to be pulled off that very night, as there was going to be a new moon and a cloudy night.

“But jokes aside, this thing is happening tonight. I’ve talked this over with Dakota over and over; we’ll break in, rescue Rob, and exit soundly.” Emma said.

“Well, Emma, just be careful. I might need to rescue all of you out of there” replied Epi jokingly.

“If anything, Epi, I’ll call you if I get arrested, and this’ll be our code message: ‘Don’t worry, mum, I’ll be fine, just come and visit me tomorrow’. I’ll also be wearing a chip” she pointed to a cheap plastic bracelet, “so you can track me. Understood?” Emma said. Epi preformed a military salute and exited the chat. Emma sighed. This mission posed an enormous risk, and she’d be relying too heavily on the weather, which she knew was fickle. Taking a deep breath, she
prepared her gear for the rescue.


The few people who volunteered arrived at the designated meeting point, a block away from Buckingham Palace. There was Emma, Dakota, Leslie and some of the eager, younger boys of the Greenmates. Each one was wearing full-body black Spandex suits and carried small EMPs, tranquilizer dart guns and flashlights. Emma looked spectacular in her attire, dazzling if you will. Dakota, not so much. However, not a chuckle came out of the group, not even of the younger boys, as they feared Dakota the Ginger. Eventually, they made their way through the darkness to the Palace. At the gate, one of the younger boys, Henry, shot a few darts into the necks of the guards. They crumpled to the floor, and the other boy, Henry’s twin brother Mason, successfully picked the lock.

“Now the real fun starts” whispered Emma. They made their way through the great halls and stairways of Buckingham, until at last they halted in front of a small wall.

“The room has got to be around here” whispered Emma, feeling the wall.

“Are you sure?” Leslie squealed.

“Aye, wee lassie. Emma here knows her stuff, and she won’t purposely lead us into danger” answered Dakota. Eventually, Emma pushed aside what seemed to be a small table.

“Got it!” she said. A mechanical whir was heard, and a portion of the wall slowly rose up. It revealed a dark, damp corridor that reeked of dust and bugs.

“Quickly, I don’t know how much time we’ve got” Emma said in a hushed tone. They then headed into the dark tunnel, hoping to find their friend.

“Damper are the moors back home. This tunnel probably hasn’t been cleaned since the Riots!” complained Mason.

Suddenly, they heard footsteps.

“Hurry up, you green scum! We ain’t done with you yet” said the voice of a man. His accent was obviously American.

“That is a Texan accent, I believe. Texans are these Americans who love big things; big steaks, big trucks, and so on” said Emma.

“How do you know this? Oh wait, don’t tell me; your boyfriend from that tiny island that’s been the only colony in the world for over 100 years!” said Mason, high-fiving Henry. They chuckled as soft as they could.

“Shut the hell up”, commanded Emma, “or say hello to a black eye”. The boys shut up, and they kept trudging through the dark corridor. They came upon a fork in the tunnel, and they heard screams coming through both paths.

“We’ll have to split up” said Emma, “I’ll take Mason and Leslie,” she glared at Mason, “and you take Henry, Dakota”.

“What path should we take?” asked Dakota.

“I’ll take the right one since that voice sounds more like Rob. We’ll meet up here, or at worst at the death row!” answered Emma.

“Ready your guns, lads! This’ll be a night to remember!” Dakota said. The two groups stealthily walked down the corridors. Emma eventually came to hear a loud smack, followed by a familiar moan.

“Tell us who your leader is!” screamed the Texan. Emma gulped, and grabbed her pistol; a trusty Glock that belonged to her mother.

“Never!” the familiar voice said. They kept advancing in the darkness.

“Tell us! Or would you prefer the alternative?” said another.

“Take out your guns. The real ones” ordered Emma without turning back. Fear formed a knot in her throat, and her heart was thumping away. They cocked their guns, and they saw a shadow of a tall, burly man.

“We’re going to have to use our wits for this one” said Mason. He pointed the gun towards the shadow and shot. It rang through the tunnel.

“Quick, boss! Run away!” said the Texan. He then rushed into a tunnel, flanked by two guards.

“Well, lookee here! A couple of rats!” he bellowed.

“Get ‘em boys!” the Texan shouted.

No one remembered what happened later that night.

Re: Project Revolution

Chapter 4- Epifanio


Epifanio woke to the sound of a ringing phone. His phone, to be exact. He picked it up and the caller’s ID read differently: this is how British phone numbers start, he thought. Was it Emma calling from someone else’s phone?

“Hello?” he politely said.

The voice on the other side was panting, grainy-sounding, and almost on the verge of crying. “Mum, it’s me!” the girl on the other end of the line, “I’ll be fine!” Epifanio cringed, when he heard that. That was Emma’s code phrase! But not the full one; he was about to answer when a high pitched shriek was heard in the background. “Just come and pick me up tomorrow!” Emma said.

“Emma! How glad it is to know you’ve screwed this up” he started jokingly, “ But I promise, I’ll try and get you as fast as I can” he answered.

“Thank y-” the voice said as it was cut off.

“Emma? Emma!” screamed Epifanio into his phone. Now he only heard static. Tears welled up in his eyes while he angrily stamped toward his study. “Now it’s personal!” he said crying. He called Noel, and told him to go to Skype. “Noel”, Epifanio started.

“Yeah, buddy?” answered Noel. Noel was about 4 inches smaller than Epifanio, and he had poufy black hair, neatly combed. He wore rectangular glasses, had pale skin and possessed an impressive ability in the form of linguistics and bargaining. “Why are you crying?”

“Emma was kidnapped” Epi answered.

“What?!” Noel responded.

“She called me, and by screams and stuff like that I could tell they were in danger. I need you” the former told Noel.

“And how do I come into this revolú, this mess?” Noel asked, in a voice similar to a certain godfather.

“Book me two tickets to London, stat” Epi answered, sniveling.

“Two? Who’s the second one for?” the other guy asked. Epifanio just stared at him. “Great! What should I take?” Noel said grinning.

“A gun and a sturdy backpack” answered Epifanio. Suddenly, Noel reached for something under his desk.

“Will this do?” Noel said as he reached under his desk and pulled out a sub-machine gun.

“Perfect” replied Epi, giving a thumbs-up.
The pair arrived at the airport and headed toward Customs.
“Yes, we’re both carrying unloaded guns. We don’t have any bullets” Noel rattled off to the attendant.

“Well, it seems you’re good to go. Have a safe trip” replied the attendant. Once they boarded the plane, Epifanio noticed that most people on it were middle-aged men, with the occasional twenty-something, and some old men. They were mostly talking about stock (boring), oil (more boring), and crumpets (that made them hungry); at least that was what he picked up when he eavesdropped. He decided he just had to investigate; he asked the man next to him why so many similar people are on the plane. The man introduced himself as Timothy Dickinson, a banker.

“Don’t you know? They’re holding the Blackheart Convention in London this year!” the old man replied in a thick Cockney accent, “Are you going there too?”

“Nah, we’re just visiting some relatives. They said they wanted us to ‘experiment’ with British society” answered the Puerto Rican. All interest seeped away from the banker, who replied with a condescending “oh” and immediately went to sleep. Epifanio turned to Noel.

“So, what’ll we do when we get to the airport?”

“Dunno” answered Noel through a mouthful of Snickers. “Want some?” he asked, offering a piece of candy bar. Epi looked queasy.

“No thanks, I’m good”. Noel answered with a “your loss”, and continued munching away.

“We are now at cruising altitude. You may now take off your seatbelts and turn on the permitted electronic devices” said the flight attendant over the PA. Noel took out a book with a big “SUDOKU-DO NOT TOUCH” written on it with permanent marker. Epi stared at the puzzle Noel was doing. After a while, the former became uninterested, and started reading the Skymall magazine.

“Noel, I’m bored” whispered Epi.

“Go to sleep” answered Noel.

“I can’t”

“Why?”

“I’m too worried over what’s going to happen when we get there” replied Epifanio.

“Dude, don’t worry. Everything will be fine” Noel assured one last time before closing his book and turning to sleep.
“Attention passengers, we are now landing at Heathrow London Airport. Thanks for flying with us, and have a nice day” said the British flight attendant over the PA. The dawn, slowly arriving, sent streaks of pink and orange crisscrossing the sky.

“Nice meetin’ you, lad” said the old Blackheart that Epifanio conversed with.

“Pleasure’s all mine” Epi answered out of mere politeness.

“Wake up, Noel. We’re here” Epi said as he flicked Noel’s ear.

“Goddammit” Noel said groggily. They walked across the steel boarding tunnel, packs in hand.

“Let’s get something to ea-” Noel started before an earth-shaking BOOM! was heard. Muffled screaming could be heard everywhere as the boys ran down the corridor. British coppers helped evacuators escape, and some rushed around carrying wounded people. The duo followed the directions the police were giving out, but another rumble shook the airport.

“Who would do this?” screamed a middle aged lady next to them. They now only carefully studied the carnage that lay before them. Epi knelt.

“This… this is even beyond the most radical of Blackhearts…” Tears began welling in his eyes. Noel put a hand on his shoulder.

“C’mon, man. Pull yourself together. There are people we need to save”.

“Oi, what are you kids doin’ ‘ere?” asked a copper passing by.

“We can’t find the exit” said Epi.

“Well, you chaps are in luck. First you survive most of the attacks, now you got rescued in time…”

“Attacks? You mean these were terrorists? ” replied Noel, as they were led by the officer.

“Aye, me laddie. We found what seemed to be a small panel bomb; y’know, one of those new-fangled ones. They cost a pretty penny and y’have t’ know the right people” replied the policeman, who introduced himself as Tom Brandy. After a small amount of time, they heard muffled cries. “Come with me” said the officer.

The trio approached a ruined café; most of the tables had collapsed, a few of them were still standing, albeit dirty and heavily damaged. Coffee cups, half-eaten food, and baked goods were strewn across the floor and tables. Everything seemed relatively okay, except a hand poked out from the counter.

“Police is here! Stay calm!” said Brandy. The boys, along with the policeman immediately started ripping through the rubble. Eventually, they found a young man that was the cashier of the establishment.

“What’s your name, lad?” asked Tom, helping him up. The rescued twenty-something coughed and wheezed.

“Dakota” he answered with a croaky voice.

Chapter 5- Epifanio

Epifanio cringed. Isn’t this the Dakota that Emma always talked about? The same one that was her right-hand man in the Youth Greenbacks?
“What’s wrong?” asked Noel. “Nothing” replied Epifanio, straightening his jacket.

“Let’s get to the exit, boys” said Tom. Dakota was badly hurt with several bumps and bruises. However, he had a neat row of about five or six marks on his arm. That wasn’t the type of injury you’d get if you were trapped under a couple feet of concrete, it was more like fingernails digging into flesh. The policeman led the group outside the airport, where a makeshift triage had been set up.

“You should get some medical attention, Dakota. You two” Tom said, pointing at Noel and Epi, “be nice”.

With that, Officer Tom Brandy of the London Police left them.

“Dakota, do you perchance now an Emma Parker?” asked Epifanio.

“Yes, why?” he answered in a raspy voice between gulps of air.

“I’m Epifanio, and she told me she needed rescuing”. Dakota’s face turned pale, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I-I’ll tell ya later. I’m not feeling well now”. They approached an ambulance, where the trio was given oxygen via oxy-masks, and Dakota was attended. Noel shot a murderous look at Epifanio. How had he not introduced him?

“Excuse me, I don’t want to be rude, but I’m Noel. Pleasure to meet you” said Noel.

“I assume you already know my name. Nice to meet you, Noel” wheezed Dakota through his oxymask.

Once Dakota was patched up, the trio went to his house. It was a nice flat, located near the London Eye, although messy. Clothes and magazines were strewn along the floor.

“Sorry for the mess. I’ll make you some coffees. Meanwhile, make yourselves comfortable”. As the boys sat down at the table, they observed the London skyline. A thin tendril of smoke rose in the distance.

“Ever since that day, more and more incidents like this keep happening…” said Dakota, shaking his head.

“Since Emma was kidnapped?” asked Epifanio. Dakota nodded.

“How do you like your coffee, lads?” he asked.

“Milk and sugar. Thanks in advance” said Epifanio.

“Give me some French Vanilla” requested Noel.

“Is Good Sipppin’ fine with you?” asked Dakota, who was answered with a nod. As Dakota took out the bottle of flavored cream, the two at the table were pondering their options.

“Emma’s somewhere in London town and she could be on the brink of death. Meanwhile, we’re sitting in a flat overlooking the joyous populace, enjoying the day while drinking a cup of coffee. What the hell are we going to do?” Epifanio asked.

“Well, that's sorta obvious, but, the question is, how are we going to find her?" replied Noel. Dakota arrived with two small orange mugs on saucers.

“I’ll tell ya what we’re gonna do, we’re gonna march right back into Buckingham Palace and march right back out with Emma and the rest” Dakota said decidedly.

“Who is the ‘rest’?” asked Epifanio between sips. Dakota’s face paled once more, and he sat down with them.

“There were five of us on that mission. There was Emma, a girl named Leslie, two brothers named Henry and Mason, and me. When we arrived at the tunnel where Rob was supposedly being held, I never found out, we split up. I took Henry and Emma took the rest. It wasn’t a long time before Henry and I heard gunshots and screams. Henry insisted on going back for the others, but I knew it was a lost cause. Whoever was over there probably took them hostage, or worse, killed them. Henry was decided on not leaving the others. We bickered for a while, and the pair of us split up. In my cowardice, I left them. I left the only people that can make sense of this absolutely confusing maelstrom of lies and corruption, possibly dead.” Dakota said, restraining his tears. Giving him a few pats on the back, Epi comforted him.

“Don’t worry. We’re going to get them back. Somehow, someway, we will rescue all of them” he said in an inspirational tone.

Dakota took out a handkerchief which he used to wipe his eyes and nose. “We’ll do that, but not right now,” he said, “Doctor Who’s on.”