Editor’s Note: Phoenix Rising is the second series in the Source Point saga. Click here to read the first part in the Phoenix Rising series.
Police dragged him out of their vehicle and into a holding room. The cuffs were slowly slicing into his wrists. The blood on his battered face was already starting to clot as the lead officer strolled in, followed by an I.D., shorthand for identification drone. The drone, whirring and floating, made rapid clicking noises as it approached.
2 hours ago…
The bartender didn’t stop glaring, but at least his attention had been diverted. Tossing back another drink, he swung around on his stool to see the entirety of the Cairo bar. All of these people, he fumed, had just let their government fall. Now, if neighbors disappeared, no one bothered asking questions. If the power goes out, who needs electricity? It was as if the rise of Source Point and Faust, that filth Faust, had predicated the downfall of society.
People just seemed not to care anymore.
Anger bubbled in his stomach. Or was it the alcohol?
This must have been what it had been like to live like Damon Wade among people. Being the one eyed man in the land of the blind, except no one cared about not being able to see. Having to go through everyday life, knowing there is a better alternative out there, hope, choice and truth that could help people.
And knowing out there, someone is actively trying to stop you from letting that out.
David Faust had killed Damon Wade. Sure, he used his trained attack dog, Zhou, to do it; but that didn’t matter. In his eyes, Faust was guilty. But so was he.
He, whom Damon had entrusted his life to, had failed. He, whom Wade had entrusted the truth to, had failed again. Wade was dead because Kenji hadn’t been able to defend him. And the truth Wade had died for was close to dying out as well. Thus far, Kenji had only been able to reach a few reporters, leaking information about the activities of Source Point, most of whom had dismissed his claims as ravings of a madman.
The blaring radio continued to spout out government-approved messages. The world had grinded to a halt. Faust had managed to gain control over most major heads of states with his companies implantations and augmentations, allowing him to call the shots. The radio continued, the television continued blaring loudly in his ears. He could almost hear that siren pitch that had once nearly incapacitated him. Enough.
Hurling his mug at the television, he turned and ripped the radio from its place and smashed it against the table.
Silence flooded the room, as many looked over to see the now shattered screen and radio. The bartender yelled something out and hired muscle appeared from outside. Pointing at Kenji he shouted, “Beat him to a pulp!”
The first one rushed immediately at him and found himself hitting the table as Kenji deftly sidestepped the assault. Anger poured through his veins as he decided to go on the offensive. Charging the second man, his shoulder smashed into the man’s ribcage, lifting him off the ground and through the glass window. Shattered pieces of glass sprayed the sidewalk. The poor enforcer was knocked unconscious, having had several ribs broken. He suffered the brunt of the force from going through the window.
That, as it turned out, was the least of Kenji’s problems.
A dozen people now clustered around to see, just in time, the second enforcer smash a bottle against Kenji’s face. Falling back, he feigned pain, letting the man come in for another swing. This time, he grabbed the man’s wrist and with all his might he wrenched the bottle free, snapping the man’s wrist.
The crowd closed in on him, and 30 seconds later Kenji da Silva found himself in the fight for his life. The first two members of the mob were easily dispatched through his Krav Maga training. The other 10 swarmed around him. Kicking him down, they piled on, nearly crushing him. As he began to pass out, he could hear police sirens.
Now…
The drone was now in front of him, snapping photos and scanning him.
The officer captured his attention again by punching Kenji in the gut.
“The bartender said you started the fight. It doesn’t matter what you have to say now … Mr. Da Silva.”
He grinned after reading the screen on the drone. Kenji was thrown into a holding cell.
“Some damn messenger I turned out to be.”
The drone, unbeknownst to both the officer and Kenji, sent its readouts to a massive databank to be stored for future use by its network creator.
In this case, its creator was Source Point Industries. The drone data was picked up as a red flag for the name of the subject, causing a system wide alert to be sent to the highest levels.
An alert beeped on a man’s desk. Accessing it, he saw the readouts from Cairo.
“Well… eventually, everyone has to come up for air,” David Faust chuckled.
