Chapter 142: Nightmare on Maxwell Street

Chapter 142: Nightmare on Maxwell Street

Glenn Maxwell, the director of Terran Intelligence, slowly started to regain consciousness. As he did, he realized that something was wrong.

He felt... weird... and he hurt in a way he had never hurt before.

As his eyes opened, he tried to sit up...

He couldn’t move!

Fear!

As his vision slowly cleared, he found himself looking up at a dingy ceiling.

Where am I?

He tried to piece together his thoughts. The last thing he remembered was leaving the office for the weekend. Then, he got into his car and headed for home...

But then what?

He tried to move again. He couldn’t. He couldn’t move a single muscle in his body except for his eyes...

And he felt weird... bad weird. Something was horribly wrong.

He sensed movement to his left and tried to look. There was someone there.

“He’s conscious,” someone said in a thick accent...

It sounded African, but he couldn’t exactly place...

A face moved into view, an old black man was looking at him, holding a scanner.

He was wearing a grey beret.

As his vision cleared further, he saw the crest on it, and his blood froze.

A Zebu!... The insignia of a group only known as The Zebus, the Prime Minister’s old Sol Wars cadre.

During the Sol Wars, nobody dared land on Madagascar... Nobody! If half of what was whispered was true...

Oh no!

“Can you hear me, Mr. Maxwell?” the man asked.

“Y-you have no idea how deep in the shit you are right now!” Glenn stammered. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

The man laughed, along with several others in the room.Ñ00v€l--ß1n hosted the premiere release of this chapter.

“I obviously have some idea, Mr. Maxwell.” he chuckled and then turned to someone Glenn couldn’t see.

“Brain activity is stable. It looks like higher functions are intact.”

“Good,” An entirely too familiar voice replied, “We got the bleeder in time then!”

Bleeder?... What... Oh God, No!!!

Glenn desperately tried to leap to his feet.

“Wow, look at that!” the voice said as a silver-haired woman in a green blazer stepped into view and peered over the man’s shoulder. “He actually moved a little! Didn’t know you had it in you, Glenn.”

“Jacqueline! What are you doing?”

“Don’t you start, child!” Augustine laughed. “Do you see what I have to deal with?” She asked Glenn, who remained silent.

She frowned.

“Don’t be like that, Glenn,” she smiled. “This will be much more comfortable for you if you do not resist.”

“I’ll fucking KILL YOU!!!” he screamed.

“Oh, you are going to kill,” Augustine smiled, “Make no mistake, you will kill, but it won’t be me.”

“You are going to be a good little torpedo, just like all those raiders we sent back,” Jacqueline purred as Glenn yelped. “Oops, sorry about that.”

“GODDAMN YOU TO HE—“

“That’s enough out of you,” Jacqueline laughed as a little “beep” could be heard.

Glenn blinked helplessly as he worked his jaw, unable to speak.

“Now you are going to go to sleep for a little bit,” Augustine smiled, “and then we will ask you a few questions. After that, Jacqueline is going to cut and splice and cut and splice until you and I are the best of friends...for the short time you are still on this world, that is.”

She turned to Jacqueline. “I’ll leave you to your work, dear.”

“Shouldn’t take too long to compromise him enough to start extracting intel, a few hours tops.”

“Take your time, dear,” Augustine said soothingly. “We have all weekend.”

Glenn Maxwell tried to scream but instead slid silently into darkness once more.

***

Augustine sat on a wooden porch in front of what appeared to be a simple, traditional dwelling sipping a cup of coffee, when Jacqueline stepped out and sat on a bench beside her.

“Any surprises?” Augustine asked as she poured a cup from the antique thermos sitting beside her on a small wooden table.

“Nothing world-shattering,” Jacqueline shrugged as she accepted the cup. “A few names and a few details here and there, but for the most part, it’s all old news.”

“Well, that is reassuring. Any complications?”

“He cries a lot and keeps asking for his mother,” Jacqueline smirked.

“Tsk,” Augustine scoffed. “You shouldn’t enjoy this as much as you do, child. It’s unhealthy.”

“I never get to do this anymore.” Jacqueline shrugged. “Bugs just aren’t the same. Oh, there is one thing.”

“What is it, dear.”

“There has been no physical contact between any of the conspirators and Patricia Hu’s inner circle since Jon’s little song and dance. He’s been trying for a meeting the whole time.”

“So that’s off the table then?” Augustine mused as she sipped her coffee. “I guess we go with plan B.”

“I’ll make the arrangements, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Jacqueline,” Augustine smiled. “What would I do without you?”

“Use someone else?”

“Must you always be so contrary?” Augustine chuckled as she watched the sun start to set over their beloved homeland, a homeland that she would do absolutely anything to protect...

As she always had.