Fourth Vector Ch. 45

At this moment, McKenzie had an epiphany. Despite the malaise of his existence for the past year, he hadn't forgotten that burning passion for justice that he felt from the first moment of Bancroft's wrongdoing. It was because of Bancroft that his fate had been brought to this moment, and it was only Bancroft's betrayal of him that caused McKenzie to even consider this offer.

At the end of the day, McKenzie would do what was right. And that meant stopping Bancroft for good.

"Wait," said McKenzie before the Tyrolean could open the door. "I'll help you. I know how we can communicate with Easterbrook."

The Tyrolean turned away from the door as a smile grew on his face. "Tell me everything."

*****

"What do you think of him? Michael, I mean. He's certainly been active lately. Busy. His mind seems bent toward one single purpose."

Victor listened to the entire question before letting out a small sigh. It was late that evening, and most of the rebels were already out performing a job. That meant that it was only H and Victor left in the sewers, awaiting the word of their successful performance.

Of course, Michael was leading yet another operation. In the past week, he'd performed three more jobs, completely raising the profile of their movement from obscure nuisance to visible threat. And that was all before the major event of the last raid. Somehow, Michael's identity had gotten out to the Javans that he was with the rebel band. Victor figured out how the leak happened--a former rebel who has captured and tortured by Bancroft's men spilled the details on the current members. It didn't take Bancroft's men long at all to put together Michael's identity, but in doing so, the most curious thing happened.

The press got wind of it. Suddenly, Michael was the face of this rebel group. The last surviving Bainbridge was the organizer-in-chief of the rebellion, trying to overthrow the usurper who'd stolen the throne from his family. The news went out practically overnight, and quite suddenly, there wasn't a single person in Belfort who didn't know Michael's name or story.

It was ironic in one sense. Michael was the brains behind most of their latest operations so it only seemed natural to credit them to him when they were successful. However, it also ignored the leading role that H played, as well as the other heavy-hitters within the organization, such as Victor.

Perhaps it was that very idea that spawned H's question that night.

"Honestly? I think he's too young," said Victor after a moment of introspection. "I think that Michael loses focus of the big picture quite often. Don't get me wrong--he's one of the best men we have, if not the best. But his passion worries me. I feel like if he doesn't temper the rage inside him, it's going to consume everything he is sooner or later."

Victor had the benefit of speaking from experience. He'd warned Michael about that very same thing over a week ago in this very room, a warning that seemed to go unheeded. That was the prerogative of youth--those that thought they knew it all would soon be proven wrong by the harsh teacher that was life.

"He certainly is young," conceded H. "But I think it's his fire that gives him purpose. You may see it as a weakness that he has, but I think it gives him strength as well. I think it's what has caused his name to be known to everyone in Belfort, and soon to be Java too. Michael may be the person we've been waiting on for so long, since the start of our movement. Someone that can be both the public face and the private brains."

"Forgive me, H, but isn't that your job?" asked Victor. "You founded this movement and made it what it is today. You recruited the first of us and brought us around to start this. What you're saying seems to me like you're ceding control to someone else."

"Ceding control isn't the right phrase," replied H. "But we have more room for more than one leader here, Victor. You're a leader in your own right. You can have more control if you reached out and took it. This is not a dictatorship, and I'm not Bancroft. Those with the most talents deserve to rise to the top."

"You might be right but I still believe that Michael needs more time. I'm worried about him. He's too... too..."

"Too much like you?" asked H with a fatherly smile.

"Perhaps," replied Victor.

"You know, I remember a time when you and I had to have the same conversation. Your passion and your fire was what separated you from all the others, but in recent months, you seemed to have taken a backseat to our affairs. I have to wonder if your passion has cooled?"

Victor shook his head. "It hasn't cooled as much as the fact that I learned I couldn't bring those that I loved back from the dead by killing someone else. I grew up in that time. It's the very thing that I think Michael still needs to do."

"Michael will get there in his own right," counseled H. "Just like you have. You're more a of mentor to the man than you think."

Victor scoffed. "Is that why he looks up to you then? When I can get him to talk after he returns from missions, which isn't often, it's usually to talk about you in some form or another. He wants your approval more than he could ever want mine."

H shook his head. "He wants my approval becauseyou still want my approval. You were my protege just like he is now yours, am I right? He watches you more than you know. For Michael, you're like a brother figure to him. Don't underestimate how powerful that can be for someone who was raised in isolation in a palace."

"If I'm his brother, he should try harder to listen to what I have to say," grumbled Victor.

H actually chuckled. "Such is the nature of brothers, is it not? Besides, most people need to learn on their own. You can warn them all you want about the pitfalls of life, but it's a small percentage of people who can take such advice and not go down the road just for the sake of living. Michael is hardly extraordinary in that regard. However, what is extraordinary is how he's taken us from a little known group to a prominent threat to Bancroft. And he's done that seemingly overnight."

"We are getting more attention than ever before," said Victor. "And Michael seems to have a knack for figuring out when to strike. He's certainly been hurting Bancroft, and I have no doubt that most of the attention on him is warranted by his exceptional actions."

"Michael is quickly becoming the face of the organization," said H. "And I want him to be a voice within it too. I want him to have more of a say in our strategic goals and operations. He is good enough to plan these tactical operations but it's time that he joined the rest of us."

"It sounds like a promotion is in order then?" asked Victor.

"Exactly what I'm thinking," replied H. "He needs to know that he's done well."

"I'll have a talk with him when he returns then. As his 'big brother,' it'll mean more coming from me," joked Victor.

H tapped Victor's shoulder lightly. "Actually, I was thinking I might talk with him. You might be the brother but I'm still the father. This is one message that should come from the head of the family."

*****

Another night, another resounding success.

At least, that was what Michael was thinking as he led his group of ten back through the sewers, thoughts of celebration and alcohol heavy on their minds. Tonight's operation had seen an ambush of a squad of Javan soldiers on the outskirts of the city. Michael had been tipped off about their approach, and his group had concealed themselves to await the arrival of their enemy.

The soldiers had no idea what hit them. It only took a matter of seconds before they were all on their backs, completely immobilized or dead. Michael's group didn't linger after striking the killing blow. They found the nearest entrance to the sewers and disappeared before they could be noticed.

It was the third successful operation that week, and even Michael was starting to feel confident about their long-term success. He was even beginning to appreciate the effects of fame, as there wasn't a person in Belfort who didn't know that he was with the rebel force, fighting against the evil emperor who'd killed his family. Michael had become a hero to thousands of Javans who'd been wronged by Bancroft, and he became a symbol of the resistance that was growing by the day and showed no signs of stopping.

The small group reached the hideout deep within the sewers and that's when the real celebration began. As was usual, Michael didn't stay with the others, making for the room he now shared with Victor, but to his surprise, Victor wasn't there.

The only other occupant was H.

The older man stood there with his arms crossed in front of his body as he silently appraised Michael. Truthfully, being in H's presence always made Michael more nervous than usual. Michael knew that H was the one that built their organization from the ground up, but he always seemed a touch removed from the rest of them, almost as if he was too high up the chain for basic conversation.

Still, Victor treated H with the utmost reverence, and if it was good enough for Victor, it was good enough for Michael.

"I take it by the sounds of revelry that you had another successful evening?" asked H.

"Another squad of death soldiers that Bancroft can't use against the people," replied Michael. "We achieved this without losing a single one of us. I'm very pleased with the results."

"As you should be. You've set an impossible standard for anyone else to match, Michael. Since I gave the order to bring you down here, all you've done is prove why my decision was an excellent one. You do extremely well, and I want you to know how proud of you I am."

Michael couldn't hide the fact that hearing that just felt good. His chest puffed out in pride at the compliments, and it went even further after he heard what H had to say next.

"Even Victor sings your praises," continued H. "And to know Victor means you know that doesn't happen often."

"He does?" asked Michael. "It seems like every time I talk to him, he is on my case about something or another. I get the impression sometimes that there's no pleasing him."

"That's only because he holds you to the very high standard that he holds himself," said H. "Don't look at it from the standpoint that you'll never be good enough. Look at it in the way that Victor thinks so highly of your achievements that he's willing to make sure you make better choices than he did. Not everyone has a mentor that is willing to go to that degree."

Michael nodded but didn't say anything else directly. If that was the case, it explained why there were many times when he felt like there was no hope of getting on Victor's good side. There was always something that Michael could be doing better, and that rankled him to no end.

"I have to thank you greatly for your praise then," said Michael as he pivoted his feet to leave the room. "Seeing as this operation was successful, I think it's time that I start planning my next one."

H put up his hands. "Hold on a second, Michael. Let's talk a little more. I have something that I wanted to discuss with you, and I'd be remiss if I let you go away so quickly."

Michael stopped in his tracks and looked back at H. He wondered if he'd done something wrong, for this was the most that H had talked to him since the first day he was brought down here. Part of him wondered if it had anything to do with his name getting out there amongst the people. Would H be rankled about having the credit stolen for his work?

Fortunately for Michael, H looked anything but upset with him. He gestured for Michael to sit down beside him, and he didn't start talking until both men were comfortable.

"You know, it wasn't my intention to put us down here in the sewers," said H in a more lighthearted tone. "My first inclination upon coming down here was that there was no way we would grow when everyone saw where we were based. No one would want to smell this for very long, and I wouldn't blame them!"

Michael cracked a smile when it appeared the older man was trying to joke with him.

"Well, the first few rebels didn't care as much as I thought they would," continued H. "Many of them were in dire straits, like I was, and needed a place that they could count as safe. My gamble with picking the sewers paid off, but I didn't rest on my laurels at that point. I simply used it as a starting point with which to recruit the next generation of our group."

Michael listened to him tell the story of the early days of the movement while he largely remained silent. Part of him was confused as to why the older man would waste his time on such a story, especially when he couldn't tell where it was going even after H had been talking for some time.

"H, I mean this as respectfully as I can ask, but what is the point of this story?" asked Michael after a natural silence had developed. "I understand that hardship drove you to this point and that it wasn't easy to start up, but what does this have to do with me?"

H pursed his lips as he thought over his response to the question. Finally, he replied.

"Michael, I never thought I would become a rebel someday. I always imagined my life would turn out differently. Even when I took the first steps, I never imagined it would become what it did. This movement has grown beyond my wildest dreams, even to the point now that I can't even recognize it. It bears little resemblance to the organization that I started down here with just a few chosen friends. I'm afraid that I've led this organization to my natural limits. I don't believe I can take it any further."

"That's not true," objected Michael. "Victor is always talking about your plans for the future. According to him, your plans can see us to the very heights of success."

"No,you can take us to the very heights of success," corrected H. "You, Michael, not me. The men have certainly responded to you. There's no one here who doesn't recognize your talent and skill. Every operation that we've orchestrated in the last month has been one of your design. The fact of the matter is that you're taking this organization to heights that I could never dream about. And you're doing so with the support of a public who now knows your name."

Michael ignored most of the statement and focused on that last sentence. "Do you think that's a bad thing? I never meant for my identity to get out like it did. You don't think that detracts from us, do you?"

"On the contrary, Michael, I think that it's the single most important thing that we have going for us. I think your status as a Bainbridge gives us a legitimacy that we couldn't have otherwise. I think that your actions as a lost heir of Java can only show the public what it has lost in choosing to follow Bancroft. In effect, Michael, you are the right leader at the right time. I know when I say that this organization has been waiting for you to take over. And now is the time."

Take over? Could H really mean what Michael thought he meant?

"But what about you? You're the leader here," countered Michael. "You mean a leadership position like what Victor has, right?"

H shook his head. "No, Michael, I mean the whole thing. I mean that you are the one that calls the shots and decides our overall strategy. I would be willing to take a backseat to all of this if that means that you will take the wheel in your hands. The source of your biggest strength is your passion and your last name. As long as you have those, Bancroft can't touch you."

It was all so much to digest. Michael felt like it was only recently that he was allowed to meet the man known as H, and that he would have to continue to work from the bottom to get any kind of ranking within the organization.

And now H wanted to step aside, giving Michael the reins at the precise moment when their success was boiling over.

It all begged the same question--why?

Why now?

"You think I'm crazy, don't you?" asked H with a chuckle after watching Michael's range of expressions for quite some time. "You think I'm an old man that finally lost his marbles after too many years in the sewers, am I right?"

This time, Michael chuckled on cue. "Forgive me, H, but you're right. I'm struggling to figure out what you see in me."

"I see Victor from two years ago," replied H. "Mixed with a version of myself. Though Victor is incredibly important to the organization, he doesn't have your organizational skills, and he's not one for physical combat, which is why he doesn't go out on the raids. Myself? I have the organization skills and the drive for fighting, but my mind isn't a tenth as powerful as Victor's. I believe that you combine the best qualities of both of us. Coupled with your last name, and you're going to be unstoppable."

At that moment, H extended his hand toward Michael.

"You don't need to give me an answer now. But think about it, Michael. Let's talk again tomorrow. And then you can tell me if you want to truly be the mastermind of this organization, just like you are now the public face of it."

H didn't wait for Michael to respond. He simply patted Michael's knee and stood up, making for the door.

Michael still felt crippled with indecision. Though he still felt the desire to take over the reins, there were still too many variables. What would his leadership look like? Would his success continue even when he was the leader? Would he adopt his own single letter name? Could he be M? Perhaps B?

And just what the hell did H even stand for anyway?

"Henrik," answered H before he'd left the room. He turned to look at Michael.

"I'm sorry?" asked Michael.

"You've probably been wondering what H stood for, did you not? It's the first letter of my last name. Henrik. Marcus Henrik."

Now that was a name that was familiar to Michael, but he couldn't place it immediately. He knew he'd heard it before but it felt like ages since that name came up. Who did he know with the last name of Henrik?

"My brother was Admiral Gary Henrik," explained H, triggering Michael's memory.

"I remember Admiral Henrik. He was the one that was executed by Bancroft and my great uncle shortly before the Battle of Aberdeen. They accused him of treason for not following orders. They executed him rather quickly for it."

H nodded, reliving the painful moment. "Indeed he was. Would it surprise you to know that my brother was an innocent man? That he was framed by Bancroft in a disastrous cover-up that was only designed to save his own skin?"

With all that Michael knew about Bancroft, the statement certainly wasn't surprising at all.

"It's for my brother's memory that I fight," explained H. "We all have something in common, you know. Me, you, and Victor. Bancroft has personally stolen someone close to us. I believe it's that quality that gives us all strength. It will continue to give you that strength as our new leader." With those words, H tapped on the wall next to him. "Think it over. Let's talk soon."

With those words, the soon-to-be-former leader of the organization disappeared, leaving Michael anxious, confused, and just a tiny bit elated.

He only wished he could ask Jade what she would think of him now?

*****

It was raining harder now, and the heavy downfall was now periodically punctuated with flashes of severe lightning.

Jack watched it all from the second floor of his headquarters in Zarah. Normally, the vantage point from his window would afford him a view of the harbor but it was raining so hard that he could barely see the building on the other side of the street.

Jack had hopes that the storms would dissipate after their rocky crossing from Galicia but this latest storm that seemed to have started in the Slot between Samara and Apulia was determined to head in their direction. It was now arriving off the coasts of Picardy, and it was seemingly worse than the storm that came before it.