A nuclear strike. So that's what they plan to do?
I don't know whether I should cry or laugh at the stupidity of Zeman, that fat idiot who promotes this "solution". They have no idea what would come if they really tried something this foolish.
They are right, I have sleeping terrorist cells all around Europe. But they think it's just a few guerrillas who would set off a bomb on a city square. Something that can be dealt with easily. But it can't be further from the truth. If I wanted, I could throw the whole Europe into chaos within just a few hours.
But it's not the time yet.
The sleeping agents who operate undercover all around Europe are a vital part of my plan right from the start. However, their main purpose is different - after I liberate the Dead Zone Castaways, these agents will undermine the enemy ground, making them vulnerable to my splendid Castaway army.
It will be over before it even begins.
Nevertheless, I would be able to give them a little taste of my power if they decided to do something so ridiculously foolish.
They are making this so easy.
Well, Isaiah escaping with the vials is a minor disturbance in my plan - I greatly underestimated him and let him spit straight in my face. Now I regret all the chances to kill him I had - I should have known his loyalty never truly belonged to me.
I guess I was also too sentimental.
As soon as the other side produces enough cures and vaccines, I will lose many followers who are with me only because of their fear of Flicker. I won't let them escape the city - everyone who tries to run away will be shot. This threat will certainly make some of them stay, but I still count with heavy losses.
I hope I will get a chance to kill Isaiah with my bare hands when I encounter him again. However, something in our last fight unsettled me. He didn't succumb to the insanity that got him to me in the first place - did he really change so much practically overnight? That's not important now. He has to find out that the price for treason is always high.
From the AVIA Tower's window, I watch my plan set into motion. My followers are loading several large vessels with the boxes with bionic body parts made by the AVIA company. The proths for the Dead Zone Castaways, the proths they will receive when I come to liberate them.
Since it would be risky to transport all the proths in just one vessel, I decided to use three. Two large aircarriers, impenetrable flying fortresses. But the main pride of my fleet has been found in the local docks. It's one of the giant ships used by the AVIA company for international shipping.
The beautiful, metallic blue vessel measures almost five hundred meters and can hold unbelievable amounts of cargo. Unlike the older cargo ships which are plain ugly, this one is a work of beauty with elegant curves and futuristic design. It's not only used to transport the goods, but also to provide as good conditions to the workers who sail on the ship as possible. Because of this, the vessel is a savvy mix of a cruise and cargo ship.
In the rear side of the vessel, there is a bridge deck almost as big as a family house with numerous broadcast towers, antennas and satellite dishes made to establish communication with the outside world. My technicians have already disabled them, but they still contribute to the ship's magnificence.
Every single day, I imagine myself standing in the bridge deck, a captain of the ship sailing towards new beginnings. Its name is fitting - my new flagship is called NSS (Next-generation Solar Ship) Opportunity and this name is written on its side with huge letters.
Soon, both aircarriers and Opportunity will start their journey. My technicians are turning Opportunity into a warship, reinforcing its shielding technologies and mounting massive weapons on it. It's for sure the enemy side will try to stop us - and I mustn't let them succeed.
I am the captain of this magnificent fleet and they will soon learn who are they messing with.
Jaroslav takes me on a walk through Prague - he insisted I need some fresh air so I can recover more quickly and I didn't argue. However, I am constantly looking over my shoulder like a paranoiac. I expect to see Adrian Bureš or Tomáš Zeman himself, eliminating both me and Jaroslav.
Or maybe they sent a gang of thugs. Or Petra, that dark-skinned girl with a knife.
My stepfather feels my anxiety and puts his hand on my shoulder in a calming gesture. "There's no need to worry, Zoya," he tells me. "They wouldn't attack us here, on such hectic places."
It's true - our walk is basically a sightseeing tour, so there are always countless tourists nearby. We just blend with the crowd and continue our conversation - the only people who interrupt our privacy are Neoclash fans who recognize my face and ask me for a photo or an autograph.
However, I have noticed their numbers are sharply decreasing in the past weeks. Neoclash was the only reason some people tolerated the Castaways and now, when the whole sport is on a hiatus, they have no reason to defend us any longer.
Actually, I encounter hateful glares or open insults more often than the words of praise. I see several people wearing button pins with a cartoon mushroom-shaped cloud and letters NNN (Nuke Nightingale Now), giving away their opinion about the Castaway problem. I also see stickers with the same picture on the walls or streetlights. Some of them have the letters changed to NAN - Nuke Amiss Now.
We've come to the point most of the society holds grudge against Castaways, no matter if they side with Nightingale or not. The only hope to make things better is to defeat Nightingale and make everything get back into the groove rut.
"There's one more problem I wanted to discuss with you," Jaroslav says. "I'm sure you already heard about the Flicker epidemy which appeared in the past weeks."
"Of course I do. I think Nightingale did it somehow, to make more Castaways dependant on the cure she stole. It's the only logical conclusion."
"Yes, your thinking has some logic, especially when you consider the newly ill Castaways are mostly former Neoclash Champions. However, I was thinking about it. According to Occam's razor theory, the simplest solution to a problem should be correct. But what if this isn't the case?"
I look at him with doubts in my eyes. "Who else can be interested in Castaways dying of Flicker?"
Jaroslav smiles. "Maybe the Occam's razor is always plausible after all. There is one more simpler answer to this question - someone who simply wants Castaways dead."
"Do you mean..."
"Yes, exactly that," Jaroslav interrupts me with a grin, mocking the fact that my accent sometimes makes the word "Yeoman" sound like "Yoomeen", especially when I'm disconcerted.
"But... but how?"
"Isolating the virus which causes Flicker is rather easy, finding the cure was the hard part - the part Mr. Bridger managed to accomplish. In other words, it's fairly easy to infect someonw with the illness. And I suspect that's what the Yeomen did." He sighs. "However, I'm afraid it's only a fond hope since this is basically my only hope to prevent my impeachment and get Zeman behind the bars."
"I will help you," I say firmly. "First, we will destroy Bureš and his execution arena. And then, I will stop Zeman and his crazy plan, no matter what it takes."
Jaroslav looks at me in such a fatherly way it makes me shiver. "Zoya, when Alexandra left me, I thought all hope I had is gone," he says. "But then, you came around and changed everything for better again. I think it's safe to say that if we ever manage to get out of this horrible situation and make everything okay again, it will be because of you."
I just look at him, not knowing how to respond.
...
The next day, I finally feel good - good enough to join the raid against Bureš's underground arena. After a long time, I'm wearing my Warden jacket again and the weight of the shock rifle by my side makes me feel safe, just like a squad of Wardens going with me.
Even though the other Castaway law enforcers are all older and more experienced than I am, they somehow naturally accepted me as their leader, probably because I'm the one who was in the arena and who knows everything about it.
Our rally point is on the Old Town Square. I have mixed feelings when standing on the square, looking at the famous astronomical clock surrounded by crowds of tourists. This is the place my mother lost her life, where she was lynched to death by Tomáš Zeman and his Yeomen.
I'm more and more sure Jaroslav is right and the Yeomen are responsible for the Flicker epidemy. But then, it could also be Nightingale who needed more followers. However, that's not what matters right now - first, we have to start with the arena in the Cold Hell pub.
"Be careful," I tell the Wardens behind my back. "They will be probably ready to defend the place - they need to make sure nobody knows about it since if its existence was revealed, it would be the end for Adrian Bureš who is Czechia's prime minister."
"We are ready," says Albert, the high-rank Warden who is a formal leader of this operation. He is quite short, but strong and sturdy, a bit like a dwarf from a fantasy book including long hair, beard and a bulbous nose. However, his massive bionic arm would make you think twice about making fun of him.
As we march through the city, we encounter confused looks and even hateful remarks, but most people remain silent - the shock rifles we're equipped with are a solid argument.
The lump in my throat grows bigger as I see the Studený peklo pub in front of me. It was truly a Hell for me. But now, the tables have turned. I escaped this place as an injured, frightened, half-naked wreck. Now I will return as a powerful Warden with a whole squad to back me up.
Payback time, I suppose.
Much to the displease of the visitors, we enter the pub. Since it's only morning, we see just a bunch of sorry lowlifes, usually unkempt and sleazy, sipping on their beers. Our arrival can at least rouse them from their alcoholic lethargy. They shout nasty slurs at us and the bartender even unscrupulously asks us to leave, but Albert just shoves him away and lets me lead the way to the storage room.
"That for authorized persons only, kurva," the bartender shrieks in broken English, probably aware what we're after. That doesn't stop us. I open the door and lead the Wardens into the storage room.
I sift through the boxes and search for the entrance, but all I can find is a plain gray wall. What? It's supposed to be right here.
"So, Zoya? Where's the problem?" Albert asks, impatient.
"It... it was right here!" I stutter and point at the wall near the back right corner of the room. "Door with a warning sign. I'm sure it was here."
"But, as you can see, there's nothing here," Albert states.
"I think we're wasting our time," one of the Wardens says. "I think we should go away now before we make the people hate Castaways even more."
Some of the Wardens agree with her, but I'm not ready to give up yet. I frantically examine the wall, hoping to find at least a trace of the door that was here. And I'm successful. I notice some of the plasterings on the wall is fresher than its surroundings. Like someone... tried to efface something.
I channel my strength into my right Lady Equilibria leg and, much to my teammates' shock, kick the wall. The plastering flies off, revealing damaged wood. I keep kicking until I destroy the door someone tried to hide and reveal a secret passage to the underground.
"You did it," Albert says.
Then, we heard the nasty sound of gunshots followed by painful groans of several Wardens. We turn around to see that some of the drunkards were only faking their torpidity and in fact, they have been waiting for this moment. They are ready to defend the pub's secret.
The battle for Studený peklo has begun.