Meanwhile, in the dingy basement the rebels were using as a temporary station, a welcoming feast was set among the deep aromas of the oil lamps; although consisting of a single roasted chicken with buttered toast on the side, this simple meal satisfied every one of the grateful rebels. As Mira swept her lengthy strands of hair off her plate, trying hard to ignore the fat rats scurrying out from a hole in the plastered wall to the side, she too ate the food thankfully while conversing heartily with her fellow conspirators. Nothing could take away the momentary peace… Nothing… except…
"Mira!"
The same newspaper boy who had previously brought news sped down the shaky staircase in a frantic rush, a crushed slip of paper in his sweaty palm. Instantly, the noise in the room quieted down like the waves on the beach crashing onto the sand only to be reduced to nothing.
"Here."
Not a single person stirred until Mira, ashen-faced, scrunched up the letter delivered to her.
"What is it?" asked Chandler tentatively. At first, she said nothing but rose to her feet in slow motion as if processing the shock of what she'd just read. Finally, three words were uttered.
"We're moving out."
Clatters resounded around the room, popping up all over the place like fireworks, as they rapidly finished their meal while packing up. Mira had already begun making preparations of her own.
"Mira, what in the world is going on?"
She gave him a wordless reply by thrusting the delivered paper at him. Neatly pasted on it were the words:
WE HAVE BEEN FOUND
RETURN IMMEDIATELY
"What can this mean?" gasped Chandler though he already knew the answer.
"The Enforcers must've found our main base in Ecclesia. See this? One of our group signed this, guaranteeing its authenticity."
She picked up a rusting telephone, whose rested form jumped into action at her touch, and made a rather quick call to an unknown man. The moment she finished speaking, her cloak flew across her shoulders and her grimy boots clamped on tightly to her feet before she ordered the rest of the rebels present to wait for their own ride.
"I'll be going on ahead first but all of you should remain here and stay safe for now. I've made preparations in case this happened, but there's still no time to waste; every second lost could mean our collapse."
When she reached for the doorknob, a firm hand shot out and found its mark on Mira's airy shoulder.
"I'll go with you."
She twisted around with mild surprise only to find Chandler standing behind her, his mind resolute on going. She hesitated but gave a stiff nod and allowed him to become the escort; there was only one thing left to do now… It was time to sort out the mess that was taking place in her presence.
—
Standing atop a distant bell tower to spectate the scene that was about to erupt into action, Mr Grock glowered over the city as if he was a mighty conqueror overlooking a daring campaign. Wind blew in from the eastern forests, providing everyone caught in its grasp with a freezing dose of air while blowing his loose coat around like a cape. After muttering paranoidly to himself for a minute or so, listing every road, street, and alleyway in the city as well as reassuring himself that they were sufficiently watched, he began to pace back and forth, timing his footsteps to match the metallic clicks of the mechanical bell, engraved with an intricate flower pattern, behind him. Nothing was assuring anymore; the pacing of his feet only helped steady his nerves.
"Ah, it has begun."
A group of plainly dressed men scampered out from a hidden door on the side of an innocent prism of clay brick, checking both sides of the narrow alleyway casually but were almost instantly engulfed by a blob of grey uniforms waiting right outside the opening of the alley.
"They will put up a fight in order to stall time," muttered Grock as if he were commentating a sports game. "Since this group is fewer in number, there will most likely be those protective bronze vests underneath their clothing to prevent casualties so they can stall for a longer time."
After each word was uttered, a particularly violent gust of wind blew the rebels' clothing around, partially exposing an orangish brown tint. Grock smiled; his predictions, so far, were all on target, but this couldn't possibly be the end of the rebels' scheme, could it?
"As expected, Hoffman has indeed made preparations, meaning there must be some way for them to evacuate their resources in an efficient way so as to not lose their lifeline. As long as I can find that route, forcing them to surrender will not be so difficult, especially if I can convince them that Blight's spies betrayed them; with no resources and another new enemy to hate, an overprotective heart will move Hoffman to surrender."
No more than a few coloured specks of colour, the rebels and Enforcers weaved in and out from the multiple branches of empty damp alleys, their silent shots hardly reaching their targets due to the elaborate twists of the labyrinth-like layout of the street. Flashes of bright orange lit up the blackness surrounding the walls like fast-fading stars in a dark sky.
"Very soon, something will escape from the building, something seemingly insignificant in order to hide whatever they're transporting out…"
A second had barely passed before a single cab pulled in front of a filthy rickety door on the opposite side of the street from where the violence reigned. Darting back and forth like ants, a few rebels helped throw parcels into the cab, which concealed itself perfectly behind a particularly thick chimney in Grock's view. Instead of being riled by this minor inconvenience, he merely chuckled and muttered knowingly, "That cab is yet another object of misdirection; the rebels are well acquainted with this city and must know this weakness of my current vantage point, but if the amount of resources they're holding in that building amounts to the equivalent of one cab, why would they be so desperate to move out of harm's way? The disadvantages outweigh the advantages. Wait… The parcels could be filled with medication, couldn't they? What else has such a high value-to-mass ratio?"
He ignored the shooting in the distance, although the casualty rate had finally broken out of stagnancy—at least three Enforcers fell dead, crimson trickling in between the rough cobblestones making up the path. They were expendable, a mere sacrifice for him who was playing the game to gain the rebels' restraint.
"No…" was the word that slipped out to correct himself. "It's far too unlikely that they'd transport medicine along the road which risks damaging the goods. The parcels weren't treated in a way conveying fragile cargo, so I'll assume it's a diversion for now."
Not too far from the rebels' foreboding apartment, a lone cab, similar to the one in front of the building, zig-zagged its way through the streets and headed in the direction of the other cab. At once, multiple other similar cabs then poured out from every unsuspecting inch of the city, now effectively creating a shimmering black cloud, the original loaded one, which had departed quite abruptly, hidden deep inside.
"More cabs are coming in to protect the loaded cab; is this another bluff or an attempt to hide it? To search through them all would burn time, yet there is the possibility of something being hidden inside. If more Enforcers were used to reduce the search time, it would reduce the security from the other checkpoints… this puts me in a demanding position…"
He reached into a leather bag, yanking out a detailed layout of the abandoned building the rebels were currently situated in. Even though this document held potential value, Grock never paid attention to it until now. Strange pipes ran out from one the basements; the pipes themselves couldn't be judged, but the positioning of them was… odd. Instead of joining the main sewage system, some of the pipes strayed from the usual route, connecting to the latrine of another tenant block on the opposite side of the city. Could this be the answer? Stomping down the rusty staircase, Grock summoned the pair of Enforcers guarding the entrance to the tower and ordered them to take a squad each to storm the tenement block.
"But remember, treat the civilians with caution—a riot is the last thing we need," he added sternly, which prompted crisp salutes from his subordinates. Once they'd set off, Grock immediately snapped his fingers and summoned two more Enforcers.
"If we can't block off the routes with Enforcers, the only way to cage in the cabs to prevent them from escaping this city would be to restrict the exit points with fires. The rebels' won't dare to shove aside the firefighters in case the fire spreads, destroying the citizens' homes and their reputations as patriots. Before that happens however, make sure to provide the residents with more than they had previously; they'll spread the word and the unrest against the Custodians will also stagnate for the time being. Gather the rest of the Enforcers here right after. Do you understand?"
"Yessir!"
It seemed like only a second had passed before every Enforcer on the case arrived in front of their director, a mass of grey uniforms flooding the base of the tremendous bell tower. Grock, seeing the orderly array of subordinates ready to act, began issuing his orders at a rapid pace.
"Once the cabs have been cornered, search through them carefully, especially—"
He grimaced when he recalled Sigerson's smug explanation of his escape.
"—hidden compartments."
A finger shot out at the left group of Enforcers.
"Squadron A, you take this task. Squadron B, pressure the rebels' defence by force; launch an attack on all sides. This time, we'll be the ones turning their attention away from our true target."
Once the orders were dished out, Grock entered his knobbly automated cab, personally designed for his convenience. All the necessities had been planned, which, according to Grock's calculations, would bring about the rebels' surrender.
"With no way out, their resources captured, and their anonymity exposed, their surrender is inevitable," mumbled Grock confidently. "For their short term advantages, they'll join us for sure, then I can make the next move against Blight and Revalty…"
—
"WHAT?" shouted Mira, her dishevelled clothes and hair flying around wildly as a shamed rebel, his bulletproof vest splattered with blood, relayed the news that the Enforcers had not only captured their main hideout but also the backup prepared in case of a catastrophe.
"Not only that," trembled the bloodied messenger, wiping away a trickle of blood flowing from his forehead, "but the medicinal drugs, the food, the equipment—it's all been taken by Grock!"
"You've done your best," assured Mira soothingly. "And escaping from the Enforcers is no easy feat either; I think you should go and have a rest."
Noticing her instant composure, Chandler tapped the table they were sitting around impatiently. The air around them smelt suffocatingly of processed tobacco leaves. Indeed, the constant grinding noises of the massive cogs working in the machine reminded them of the cruel reality of being a rebel… always forced into hiding among others like festering rats… Pure iron made up most of the busy room in the form of pipes, gears, and screws, while the plain wooden table in front of them was the only other element.
"We've arrived far too late, Mira," said Chandler unencouragingly, watching his fellow wounded comrade fall soundly asleep. "What do we do? Surely, you can't be thinking of surrendering to Grock, could you?"
"That may be our only logical option left," returned Mira, though her face showed far less concern than there ought to be. "We'll only lose our comrades next if we don't surrender. What resources do we have that'd allow us to resist? Besides, Grock will no doubt take us in, since he can't afford to have the people rioting because of our influence among them plus, extra fighters always come in handy."
"I'd never thought… It can't be… Grock saw through your plans at last…"
And he buried his head in his brawny arms in despair.
"Who said we've lost? I only said we had no resources left but those can be recovered in due time. Presently, our friends are more important since there wouldn't be any use for weapons if there are no people. Once they're freed, Revalty can easily support us in terms of equipment, then we can fight back. How's that?"
Chandler gradually rose to his feet, a glimmer of hope renewed in his eyes.
"It's certainly an idea… a crazy one, but what choice do we have?"
"I'm glad you've accepted it so quickly," grinned Mira. "I'll tell everyone else in Sardis; from now on, we're allies with Grock."