Frank Kohlhaas had to rest for the next weeks. At the end of October, he could finally leave the sickbed and was more or less able to walk again. During this time he was visited by most of the villagers who congratulated him on his latest achievement. Of course, also Artur Tschistokjow, who had slowly overcome the shock, came to Ivas and thanked Frank wholeheartedly that he had saved his life. From now on, the two men had a special friendship.
Julia Wilden visited Frank too, and seemed to be very concerned about him. She brought him flowers, books and once even a homemade cake. The injured man was inwardly pleased about her care, but he tried to show not too much of his happyness, because he was still huffy and Julia should know it. So he remained sober and taciturn. Moreover, he had the wildest theories on his mind about her and Viktor. Frank had focused his thoughts only on the political struggle in Lithuania and Belarus, and had just forgotten the world beyond policy.
Only now, when he was lying in bed, after Alf had put the TV in his bedroom, sweeping and scary activities became aware in the distance. The approximately 700 channels from around the world which Frank could receive here, gave him more or less an idea, how the future in “Eastern Europe” would look like.
The World Government was already trying to register the population of North America with the new implantation Scanchips since one year. Meanwhile, the old Scanchip had been replaced by tiny electronic implants, that could fulfill all its functions. These new markers were the final step towards the total control of the masses, and the media enthusiastically praised the new improved implantation Scanchip as “the greatest technical achievement of the 21th century”.
In “Central Europe”, the first mass registrations had also begun several months ago and the global media machinery had started a huge publicity campaign to get the consent and the goodwill of the people.
But the cunning propaganda did not always have the desired effect. Large parts of the population of North America and Western Europe did not join the registrations voluntarily and there were some riots and protests in the bigger cities. Moreover, the World Government did not want to take too drastic measures against the protesters and tried to “convince” the population of the new, improved Scanchip.
The worldwide registration process could last many years – step by step, piece by piece, as the Lodge Brothers had planned it.
Nevertheless, during the first half of the year 2034 over 73 million people in North America had already been registered with implanted Scanchips. The first registrations with the new medium in the administrative sector “Eastern Europe” were planned for January 2035. Then, also the population of Russia, Belarus and all the other countries should become a flock of marked lambs - under the command of the “chosen few”.
Occasionally, the first propaganda reports came on television, to psychologically prepare the population for the coming registration. And it would come. The Lodge Brothers tolerated no dissent.
Meanwhile, Artur Tschistokjow continued with his activities, holding further rallies, for example in Pastavy, with about 1500 participants. This time, the police was well prepared and attacked the protesters with hundreds of armored men and even three anti-riot tanks. Finally, the Rus had to cancel the demonstration, before it came to serious conflicts with the security forces. Nevertheless, several activists died on that day, before they could leave the town again. Pastavy sank into chaos for several hours.
Tschistokjow`s bodyguards and guardsmen, including Alf and Sven, had to shoot their way through a large number of policemen, while the leader of the Rus escaped from the city in a breakneck action. After this rally, another wave of arrests shook the whole country and Tschistokjow had to hide again. But the young fanatic did not stop his fight and still planned further marches and rallies.
Meanwhile, Frank was able to walk again and was eager to be active for the freedom movement as soon as possible. Soon, the next demonstration followed.
“In one week, we`ll be in Krychaw. Do you really want to come with us? I mean, your leg...”, said Bäumer and gave Frank some painkillers.
“Yeah, I think so...”, moaned Kohlhaas and straightened up.
Then he limped to the secondary room and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Drink something!”, said Alf, giving him a cup of hot herbal tea.
”The rally in Pastavy was a mess, wasn`t it?”, remarked Frank, holding his lower leg.
“Damn! Yes, it was a disaster. After we had gathered in the center of the town, the cops immediately attacked us. They came from everywhere and didn`t hesitate to gun us down. They even had three of these anti-riot tanks with heavy machine guns!”
“This just shows that they take us serious now. Tschistokjow is still alive, and now they try to stop us with sheer brutality”, returned Kohlhaas.
“Remember that sniper! It was the GSA! It wasn`t the ordinary Belarusian police, I`m sure about that!”
“We will never know it, Alf. Anyhow, I have seen a report on ANN yesterday, this American channel. Millions of people in North America have already been registered with the new implanted Scanchips. Wilden says, there are hidden nano poison capsules inside these fucking things. Those who have been registered with this crap, can be “switched off”. The poision capsule can be activated with radio waves or something like that!”
“Nobody will ever implant me such a chip! Over my dead body!”, growled Alf and clenched his fists in rage.
“But a great number of people has already been chipped. They just believe the lies of the media, stupid lambs...”
“What`s about “Eastern Europe”?”, asked Bäumer full of sorrow.
“Probably the first registrations will start here next year!”, explained Kohlhaas.
“If they ever register us with these fucking things, we are all finished!”
”Well, we still have some time, Alf. At first, they only register all these idiots who accept this measure voluntarily. All others, who refuse the “chipping” will be forced to do it – in the long term. But this will last some years.”
Alfred`s eyes betrayed boundless anger. “They mark us like pigs! I pray to God, that I will still witness the day, when that parasite Lodge Brother scum pays for all these crimes with its own blood!”
“I think that they plan to kill a large part of the population with these new Scanchips. Damn! I`m sure! Then the media will tell us, it was a plague or something. The ideal way to solve the alleged overpopulation problem”, lectured Frank.
“I gonna blast the skull of everyone who wants to register me with this shit!”, shouted Alf, banging on the table.
In the following week, John Thorphy organized a few boxes of ammunition and new MPs in Moscow. Furthermore, Wilden had got new donations from some old friends whose names were still unknown. Frank, Alfred and about a dozen men from Ivas were on their way to Mazyr in the south of Belarus, to join another demonstration.
After the protest march in Pastavy had ended in a bloody fiasco, Tschistokjow had changed his old “rally-plan”. Now he “jumped” from one part of Belarus to the other, to hinder the authorities to concentrate their police forces at one particular place. Finally over 3000 people came to Mazyr and except for minor scuffles with the police, everything went quiet. This time, the supporters of the freedom movement had huge banners with some new slogans.
“Only Artur Tschistokjow can save us! Give him the power over Belarus!” or “Artur Tschistokjow – The last hope!” could be read on them.
In the meantime, the politician had recovered from the terror of the assassination attempt in Baranovichi, but he knew that a thing like that could happen anytime again. From now on, his guardsmen always checked the roofs of the houses around them before they held a rally.
The year 2034 ended and when the first snowflakes came from the sky, an unfamiliar calm returned. Wilden had organized a big Christmas party, which was this time held in the old renovated church in the center of the village. The majority of the villagers came and the building was finally bursting a
t the seams. Artur Tschistokjow, whose family no longer existed, visited them and seemed to become sentimental, when he entered the church. For some hours, they all felt like ordinary people. A feeling that was meanwhile strange for Frank and his comrades. Wilden`s moving Christmas speech which had exceptionally nothing to do with world politics, remained in Frank`s memory for a long time. Meanwhile, he was 33 years old and mused in the long hours of the dark winter evenings a lot about his previous life, about what he had achieved - and what not.
“I`m some kind of hero - that`s all!”, he sometimes said to himself, not knowing whether he was really happy about this.
Concerning his personal aims of life, which included a woman he loved, and perhaps even a family, he had previously achieved nothing. The fight against the global system that seemed to become a never ending story, ate up his life, slowly devoured it with each passing year, like a snake a little rabbit. Frank had to avow himself that he just marked time in all private things. He became aware of it all, when he saw Julia and Viktor kissing and flirting at the New Year`s party at the Wildens.
Shortly after 24.00 o`clock, when several dozens of people had gathered in front of the house of the village boss, he finally went back home, sad and frustrated. Alf still stayed for a few hours and came back early in the morning, completely drunk.
With the beginning of February, the political struggle went on with full force. The governor of the sector “Eastern Europe” announced the start of the mass registration of the population with the new Scanchips.
Meanwhile, the sub-sector “Belarus-Baltic” had become a place of misery. The hard winter had claimed many victims among the homeless people in the cities, all across the country. Furthermore, the industry had collapsed further and a lot of production complexes had been outsourced in Third World countries. Hundreds of thousands had lost their jobs.
Perhaps the year 2035 could be promising for the freedom movement and even make a revolt possible. Frank thought a lot about it, but he came to no solution. Only one thing seemed to be certain: Some of his comrades would not witness the next New Year`s party.
“Well? What do you think about the flyer?”, asked Artur Tschistokjow the village boss and looked expectantly at him.
“Hmmm...”, muttered Wilden and scratched his gray temples, while he translated the Russian text. Now he talked quietly to himself. Frank and Alfred strained their ears.
“People of Belarus, don`t let them implant you a poison-chip!”, was the headline of the leaflet. Wilden studied the text thoughtfully and finally read out aloud: “The new implanted Scanchip contains poison capsules! Defend yourselves against the criminals of the Medschenko regime and the World Government...”
Several minutes later, he was ready. “This is very good!”, he said with a smile.
“We have printed about 200000 of these pamphlets, our men distribute them everywhere in Belarus!”, explained Tschistokjow.
For the 15th of February, he had planned another protest march. This time in Rechytsa, a small town in the southeast of the country, bordering the former Ukraine.
“This country has no money left anymore. Have you already heard it? It was yesterday in the television”, said the blond man
”No more money?”, returned Frank.
“Yes, the sector “Belarus-Baltic” is broke! How do you say it in German?”, asked Tschistokjow.
“Bankrupt!”, explained Alf.
“Okay! Bankrupt!”, repeated the Russian and grinned.
“This is good for us. Then this sector could probably fall into chaos this year. Great! I hope so!”, said Wilden.
“I believe that, my friends. Soon, they will do not even have money to pay the policemen. No salary for police anymore! Do you understand?”, remarked Tschistokjow.
“No more money for the clerks, the administrators, the police and so on?”, marveled Frank.
“Yes, yes!”, said Artur excitedly. “Only in this month there is still money. From next month, there will be perhaps no more money.”
Bäumer grinned. “Well, then the cops will think twice, before they risk their lifes against us...”
“At least, the ordinary Belarusian cops. The GCF soldiers, however, are paid by the World Government itself”, added Frank.
“We must use the situation. Many people are still very poor and now the system in Belarus crumbles still faster. Over 1,5 million Belarusians have no more jobs, no more money. Over 800000 people are homeless. It is like a boiler, the whole land is a boiler! You understand?”
„Belarus is fuming with rage!“, spoke Kohlhaas and winked at the Russian.
“Fuming?” Tschistokjow looked baffled.
“Boiling! Whatever…“
„It is fuming with rage everywhere. Yes!”, shouted the Russian.
They had not misjudged the situation in Belarus. Apart from that, Artur Tschistokjow thought that he had meanwhile reached a remarkable popularity among the people. The Russian dissident had almost become a prominent person, and was thereby also more vulnerable than ever before.
At the beginning of the year 2035, the freedom movement was no longer an underground organization, because it had grown far too much in the last time. Hundreds of thousands of Belarusians sympathized with the Rus, and among these people were no longer just the poor and disaffected.
Even more and more clerks and policemen secretly hoped for a change in their country. They had finally realized, that the policy of Medschenko was leading Belarus into chaos.
Furthermore, the Freedom Movement of the Rus had recieved larger sums of money from anonymous donors. Artur invested the money in building up a better organization, in propaganda material and in weapons which were often bought in Russia or in the Arab countries.
The power of the occupational regime in Minsk was wavering, and fortunately the World Government paid so far only little attention to political rather unimportant countries like Belarus or Lithuania. The Lodge Brothers had other interests than caring for poor, tiny regions like the sector “Belarus-Baltic” with its barely 14 million inhabitants.
Finally, the demonstration on February 15th was a great success. The local police remained passive and some of the officers even greeted the demonstrators friendly. Over 800 members of the movement marched through the streets for three hours, almost looking like a civil war army. Frank and Alfred were thrilled.
Slowly but surely, the authorities of the sub-sector “Belarus-Baltic” had more and more problems to suppress Tschistokjow`s organization, especially in the small towns and rural areas. In some villages, the Rus even ruled the streets now.
Physicians, who worked for the World Government and implanted the new Scanchips were declared to “enemies of the Russian nation” by the Rus, and Tschistokjow`s men threatened to kill them, if they would not immediately stop the registrations in Belarus. Some of them were finally shot by masked men in the open street, after they had ignored the warnings of the rebels. The mass registration in Belarus stopped before it had really begun, because the most physicians had no interest to risk their lives anymore. In the meantime, the young men from Ivas were untiringly active, above all in the smaller towns. They distributed flyers and stickers, hung up placards, and supported the freedom movement as good as they could.
In the rural regions, the conflicts with the police were meanwhile less frequent. Sven proudly told his comrades that he had given some leaftlets to a group of policemen who had read them with great interest – in broad daylight!
The cops had just smiled at him and finally said that Tschistokjow was right. Medschenko and his staff feared such things more than everything else, and police officers who were caught ignoring the orders of their superiors were immediately dismissed. Nevertheless, more and more ordinary Belarusian policemen had sympathies for the Freedom Movement of the Rus.
“Look at that!”, Frank`s eyes seemed to fall out of their orbits. In front of him was a sea of people and flags. They all had distributed thousands
of leaflets in the last days, day and night, almost without any breaks. Moreover, Tschistokjow`s illegal radio stations and websites had supported the big publicity campaign for today`s rally. And it had not been in vain.
More than 20000 people had come to the outskirts of Gomel, and the large crowd was still growing.
“It is unbelievable!”, exclaimed Sven enthusiastically. “What a giant mass of people! This is the biggest rally in the history of our movement!”
“Here we go again!”, remarked Wilden, grinning from ear to ear.
Soon, the crowd started to move. Slowly, accompanied by loud screaming and chanting. Step by step, they marched towards the inner city. Who would dare to stand in their way today, would feel the power of an angry mass, ready for everything – as Frank thought.
“This is our first rally in a real big city. I`m curious to see what`s going on today”, said Alf with a faint tang of uncertainty.
”Don`t worry!”, remarked Kohlhaas confidently. “They don`t want to fuck with a crowd like that!”
The protesters unwaveringly marched towards the city center. Huge banners showed the numerous spectators of the rally slogans like “Freedom is near!” or “Security and Work for all Russians!”.
More and more desperate men and women wanted to hear things like that, and Tschistokjow shunned no danger to carry his political claims now even into the larger cities of Belarus.
Frank and Alfred hurried to the edge of the crowd and loaded their guns. Meanwhile, many of the Russian guardsmen knew their faces and treated them with respect and awe. After all, Frank had saved the life of their leader.
“Dawaj! Dawaj!”, shouted Kohlhaas and signaled the armed troopers that they should follow him to the front ranks of the endloss line of men and women. The uniformed men obeyed.
Shortly afterwards, the crowd reached a large square, after they had passed a dreary shopping zone full of rundown department stores. Here, the Rus encountered a great number of policemen.
“I greet you, my Belarusian brothers of the police! Please behave peacefully and we will do that too! You can listen to my speech and I hope that you will finally understand, that we want to liberate all our compatriots! Even our brothers, who work as policemen!”, shouted Tschistokjow into his megaphone.
“Shit! That`s a damn big armada, and they don`t look, as if they just want to let us demonstrate here!”, said Bäumer.
Three anti-riot tanks appeared from behind a wall, five more came out of a side street.
“This rally will last no longer than one hour! I only want to deliver my speech and then we will leave Gomel immediately – and in peace. I promise it!”, yelled the leader of the Rus.
Now the policemen went in position behind some hastily constructed barricades and barriers, then the just waited. A tall police officer finally stepped forward, grabbed a bullhorn and gave Tschistokjow an answer: “Everybody has to leave this place immediately, or we shoot!”
“Hurry up! In position! Take your guns! Dawaj!”, shouted Frank and waved the other guardsmen nearer. The Russians took their rifles from their shoulders and hastily formed a firing line.
“I knew that something like this would happen. Gomel is no tiny village...”, moaned Alf, staring at the police officer with the bullhorn.
Only a few hundred of the more than 20000 demonstrators were members of the militant section of Tschistokjow`s organization. The biggest part of the crowd just consisted of ordinary citizens, and even women and children were among the people who had come the rally in Gomel.
The guardsmen in their gray shirts tried their to bring women, children and old people to the rear part of the mass.
“I ask you to give us only one hour. Then we will leave the city immediately!”, yelled Tschistokjow again.
“You won`t get this hour from us, Mr. Tschistokjow! This rally will end now - or we will shoot your people down!”, replied the officer.
“I`m sorry! But we will not go! I`ll deliver my speech and you will have to shoot me, that I keep my mouth shut! If you won`t give us this one hour, many people will die today! On both sides! Please think about, if it`s really worth it!”, threatened Tschistokjow.
A long minute passed and an uncanny whispering and murmur went through the large crowd which slowly became anxious. All guardsmen of the freedom movement had now positioned themselves. Frank and Alfred were lying side by side on the asphalt.
The police officer ran back behind his men and finally gave the order to fire. Some of the officers hesitated for a short moment, but then they started to shoot and the first protesters fell to the ground, screaming and bleeding.
”Fire!”, shouted Tschistokjow into his megaphone after he had disappeared in the crowd.
A bloody firefight followed. Several dozens of police officers were shot down by the Rus, while hundreds of demonstrators were mowed down by the hail of bullets which came from behind the barriers. Immediately, even the anti-riot tanks joined the fight and returned fire with their gatling machine guns. Cries resounded from everywhere and full metal jackets cut through flesh and bones. Fountains of blood sprayed up in the crowd, while desperate outcries echoed in Frank`s ears and a tall man, whose chest had been ripped apart by a direct hit, fell on his back.
As a war-proven shooter, Kohlhaas killed two police officers with headshots and sent three more to the ground, then he rolled the dead men to the side and jumped up.
“Come on, Alf! We can`t win this fight!”, he yelled, pulling Bäumer with him.
Meanwhile, the demonstrators were gripped by sheer terror and tried to escape through the side streets. Hundreds of dead and wounded people already covered the square. Finally, the tanks rolled forward and continued to fire at everyone in their way. It was a massacre.
”In that street there!”, roared Alf and Frank followed him.
Large swarms of people tried to break through a police barricade and the onrushing men and women ran directly into a deadly machine gun salvo. Then the first protesters attacked the policemen with iron bars, clubs or even bare fists. The armed guardsmen followed them and started to shoot, while all hell broke loose.
Driven by boundless terror, the people beated down some policemen who had blocked their way and finally jumped behind the barrier.
“You damn rats!”, screamed Frank and shot his entire magazine empty. Then he threw the rifle away and pulled a hatchet from his belt. With a loud roar, he smashed the head of the policeman in front of him, and tore his weapon out of the bloodspattered helmet of the man. Then he hacked down another cop and finally lost the hatchet which stuck deeply in the shoulder of the screaming opponent. Meanwhile, the outnumbered officers retired from the side street, and many of them were shot or beaten to death by the raging mob.
“They have tried to encircle us! Fuck!”, shouted Bäumer and picked up the pistol of a wounded policeman from the ground. He shot him in the chest and cursed.
The other people tried to escape through the now vacant street, dragging Frank and Alf with them. It was a giant chaos. The two men and a some Russians ran through an alley, strewn with garbage and rubble, and attacked anyone who got in their way.
“We must get a car somewhere!”, yelled Frank and turned into another street. Some demonstrators followed them.
Finally, they reached an intersection, where a car was waiting in front of a stoplight.
Frank immediately ran across the street, shot the side window to pieces and shouted something in Russian at the driver. A terrified man stared at him and did not dare to open his mouth.
“Get out of your car or I kill you!”, hissed Frank and pulled the scared driver out of his car. He started the vehicle and sped off with squealing tires.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”, moaned Kohlhaas and raced like a madman through the streets.
“There! Highway! To Minsk!”, Alf pointed at a rusty sign.
Some minutes later, they had left the inner city. When they saw Gomel becoming smaller in the background, they sent a short prayer to
heaven.
“My nerves are still raw! Bloody hell!”, gasped Bäumer, taking a deep breath.
“Those fucking cop bastards!”, growled Kohlhaas, slamming his fist against the windshield.
The two men drove past Minsk, refueled and finally arrived at Ivas a few hours later. They had survived a terrible day.
Stubborn