Chapter 23: The Terrorist Unit
Roger Steinham was positioned on the side of a small hill that was mostly covered in pine trees. He was resting on rocky terrain, with an assault rifle held firmly in his grasp. Steinham was the leader of the AKC, a hardened bunch of American terrorists who rose up against the Government and their fascist principles. Another contributing factor was that the former CIA operative and his colleagues had been betrayed by their own government years earlier.
In the past two years they had carried out multiple bombings and ambushes of Government troops and police officers. They wanted to start a revolution and overthrow the Government, but the truth was that their numbers were dwindling. Steinham was paranoid, rightly or wrongly. He suspected that some members of his unit had been infiltrated by changelings. He was constantly suspicious of his own men to the extent that he asked each of them numerous questions each day to ensure that they were who they said they were.
Steinham and his group of fourteen men had been lying in wait for the best part of forty minutes. The sun was about to set over the horizon. They were waiting on an army convoy that they had anticipated would travel along this stretch of road away from the army base. They had been informed that the convoy would leave the base at 17:30. It was now 17:45.
It was then that a car pulled up on the road in front of them. A young woman climbed out of the car to examine her tyres. She was young, beautiful and well dressed. Evidently she had a flat tyre and needed to replace it. The young woman seemed oblivious to the presence of the terrorists. In his mind Steinham was urging her to get out of the way. He was even tempted to replace the tyre for her but believed he saw the convoy approaching in the distance.
“Captain,” one of his younger accomplices addressed him in a whisper, “What do we do?”
His name was Jorge Chavez. He originally joined Steinham’s group because he detested what the Reapers and the President of the United States stood for. His older brother was taken by the Reapers but Jorge managed to escape. This had made him determined to fight back and to oppose what he saw as injustice. Lately Jorge didn’t see to many differences between Steinham’s principles and those of President Westwood.
The terrorist leader believed that he had no other option but to proceed with his plan and if the innocent woman got killed in the crossfire so be it.
“Follow the plan,” he responded.
In a matter of minutes the army convoy was within shooting distance. The woman had still not finished replacing the tyre. Only ten feet behind her car was an explosive device that was designed to take out the first truck. There were five trucks in total in the convoy. Captain Steinham pressed the detonator, once the first vehicle reached the device. The momentum of the truck took it into the car and the woman was caught between her car, the truck and the rocky roadside. She screamed out both in horror and in pain. Instantly, Steinham’s men opened fire on the vehcles. The shooting lasted forty seconds. When the terrorists had stopped they could not see any survivors other than the possibility that there might be some in hiding. Cautiously, some of the terrorists started to make their way down the hillside. Three army men came into view and attempted to shoot the terrorists but were eliminated before they could do so. Steinham was the last to reach the convoy. The terrorists were already retrieving what supplies they could. Lieutenant Haskell called his superior officer over to one of the trucks.
“Captain, you better take a look at this,” he said aloud.
When Captain Steinham came around to take a look at the fourth truck he could see twenty four robots, none of which were activated.
“I have heard of these,” the terrorist leader exclaimed. “They’re almost indestructible. They might come in useful. Take one of them with us.”
Once the terrorist group had gathered what they required, they proceeded on foot in the direction of a truck a few hundred yards further down the road. As they proceeded, the woman who was pinned to the rock on the side of the road called out for help. Her cries for help haunted many of the AKC rebels. Two of the officers looked to their leader to authorise them to rescue the injured woman. Instead, Captain Steinham pulled out his firearm and shot the woman in the forehead.
“She was innocent,” Jorge cried out. The terrorist foot soldier was frustrated with his superior officer. Inwardly Jorge wanted to abandon the terrorist group but knew that was just as dangerous as staying within it.
Roger Steinham was fully aware that his subordinate was going soft and it was not something he could tolerate. “She was also a witness who could put all of us in jail if we helped her. We have no time to wait around.” As he said this Steinham maintained a cold hard gaze while looking ahead.
This would not look good on a news bulletin, Jorge thought to himself. There were probably millions of Americans looking for a cause to fight for but many of them would not be inclined to ally themselves with the AKC on this evidence.
The terrorist leader, Roger Steinham drove his car into the run down retail park on the outskirts of the town of Maynhem, All the buildings in the area were built of wood and in serious need of repair. It was an underprivileged backwater that few people visited. The truth was that the residents also had a secret. All the business owners in this retail park were allied to the AKC. There were six buildings in all. It was the last remaining stronghold of the group and had up to now managed to go undetected.
The terrorist leader entered a large facility with white walls and a blue corrugated roof. It was more than a hundred metres deep and sixty metres wide. It was the nearest building to the exit. The sign overhead read: AP’s Toys. It was mid-morning and there were no customers in the building and the sole occupant was AP, who sat behind the counter.
AP was rarely in a serious mood. He was in his late forties with little or no hair and light blue eyes. He was shorter than average and what hair he had was red in colour.
“Fancy a teddy bear, Rodge?” he asked, tossing a medium sized one at the militant group member. Steinham didn’t say anything, when the toy bounced off him, but kept walking and gave AP a cold stare. “Didn’t think so,” AP responded, “maybe a Barbie doll would be more your type of thing.” No matter how many times AP got the same reaction it didn’t prevent him from trying to extract a smile from Captain Steinham every time he met him.
Steinham walked into the back of the building to the warehouse, through a door. There were several aisles of shelves all packed with toys. The terrorist leader walked to a specific part of an aisle near the right hand side wall. He pulled out a light rack and in doing so, it revealed a gap in the wall. He entered and pulled the rack back into place. Steinham pressed a light switch and descended a spiral staircase. He reached a basement area, where several of his men were resting on beds. He moved beyond the sleeping quarters to a training area where some men were engaging in shooting practice with silencers. In the next room was an electronics expert name Marich.
Marich had been performing tests on a robot that had been captured in a raid.
“It’s been a week now, Marich. What have you got for me?”
“Well I think I’ve figured out how to control it and I also think I’ve figured out how to stop the others. I’ve developed a remote control. It’s not exactly hi-tech, but it appears to work.”
Marich then started to demonstrate. He used a control device to move the robot’s arms and legs.
Steinham wasn’t very impressed. It seemed to be quite primitive.
“Aha, you will see,” Marich continued. “Wait for this.”
The computer genius then placed a circular device like a type of electronic headband on his head. He then started to move his hands and legs. The robot mimicked all of his actions. He was also able to see what the robot could see. The robot had cameras installed giving it a front and rear view. These camera views could be seen on Marich’s control device, cumbersome as it was. The technology genius explained to Captain Steinham that the Robot’s capabilities were extensive and that in a few days he believed he could control the android’s movements perfectly.
Marich then reached for another contraption. “This,” he declared, “can set off an electromagnetic pulse causing all of the robots to stop. It appears to last for between three and five minutes. After a while they appear to recover, but press it again and it stops them for another three, four or five minutes.”
The terrorist leader had worried about confronting some of the droids in a field of battle. Until now, they had no evident weakness.
“Well done Marich. Excellent,” the terrorist leader responded as he patted his subordinate on the back. “It’s great to see that your talents and skills have not gone to waste.”
This development was one of the few things that could possibly bring a smile to the face of Roger Steinham. Soon he would use this technology to his advantage.
“The next time you are out, I could do with a bottle of vodka as a reward,” Marich said aloud
“Now Marich, you know how tight resources are. If we win this war, I’ll buy you a truck load.”
Inwardly Marich was disappointed as he saw Steinham walk away. While he would always stay loyal to the cause, he knew it was only a matter of time before the AKC were defeated and he would never taste vodka again.