“Let’s go away for a while ” said Zuwe as we drove through Palm lane out of the old city.
” Believe me this country will keep sinking until nothing will be left to recover”
“So what is plan B?” I asked. The boss was not sure what was next as well. With everything gone, including the ceased communication gadgets, we were really on our own.
” We could use the Gando Militias ” suggested Joe, who had been quiet since his brother’s death.
“We could cut a deal with them” he advised.
“For what in return?” asked the boss.
“Maybe we let them take any loot from future raids” I threw in.
“That’s madness. We need money to run the campaign. Think of something that will aid this fight”
For the record, I was a successful journalist before the crisis. Kando Broadcasting corporation fell to the federal troops after the heavy bombing of the city. Nothing was spared especially the newly mounted mast.
It was while fleeing that I bumped into Joe who was also running, and at that moment he looked like he fell into a tank of cement dust
“Hey, are you not the TV guy?” he asked, with a face covered with dust, and a T-shirt torn at the chest.
“Yea I am. Tony. My name is Tony” I said
“We heard your office was shelled”
“Yes, it was”
“Good you survived”
“Thanks. What’s your own story?”
“It’s a sad one. My school was bombed too. The children, those innocent kids, dead just like that”
Joe was a teacher, likewise the late Victor. His school was leveled to the ground by the bombers killing many. Only a handful of school kids escaped. As for the group, it was formed initially to protest the role of Britain and Russia in the crisis ravaging the young country of Muela
Any fool back then knew the foreigners were here for the newly discovered oil and had managed to brainwash the politicians, and the elites. Revolution made sense as the only way out of the mess.