DARK PARTITION
Excerpt 1:
Prologue
The final, the Fourth World War, spared no one. The political map of the world underwent a radical transformation. Governments and nations fell, but power did not vanish with the borders, monarchs, or presidents. To ensure a new order in this changed world, power had to endure.
Immediately after the war, three great corporations forged a new order, naturally with new divisions. Some claimed that these corporations had benefited financially from the war; others that they were the ones who had actually started the global conflict. Both factions now jeopardised their freedom in exchange for such audacious declarations.
The corporations reached an agreement after two months of negotiations. The world was divided into three sections. Each organisation was given a share, which was defined as a zone of influence. All the previous governmental frontiers on Earth were replaced by new borders, designating corporate empires. Extron’s domain included the Americas, Antarctica, and Greenland. The Sirius Corporation acquired ownership of all of Europe, western Russia, Japan, and northern Africa. Mirabelle controlled the rest of the planet.
A special organisation, the League of Three Corporations, informally known as the League of Three, was established to ensure peace and security in all spheres, to prevent crises, combat terrorism, resolve conflicts or disputes, and foster and strengthen cooperation between the spheres. The general board was made up of three delegates, one from each entity. Soon after, a joint police force—‘The United Police Forces,’ as it was officially known—was formed under the supervision of the League.
Another agreement between the three corporations resulted in the formation of two “common influence” territories: Switzerland and Ireland. The former was converted into a worldwide banking hub, housing the main headquarters and boards of all banks, including those affiliated with the three consortia. Ireland was chosen as the League of Three’s principal headquarters, together with the Central Office of the United Police Forces, commonly known as The Central in police circles. Ireland and Switzerland, having remained neutral, had avoided catastrophic damage during the war; nevertheless, they had failed to maintain their independence.
Although all nations were now spheres of influence for one of the three corporations, there was one exception. The only former state in the world that kept its independence and distinct identity was the Vatican. Rumour had it that this was due to its assistance in resolving and financing the war.
Twenty years have passed since the new regime took hold.
Excerpt 2:
Thursday, 10th of December, 2150
…
His watch now read six in the morning. Moments later, the faint jingle of keys echoed from beyond the door. The lock clanked loudly as it turned, and the door groaned open. Two figures stepped into the cell, their presence ominous. Without a word, one of them strode over to Sullivan and delivered a harsh kick to his side.
"Wakey, wakey, scumbag!” the man sneered with obvious contempt.
“Ah, Ari,” Sullivan greeted with forced nonchalance. “Fond of playing with handcuffs, I see.”
“And with coffee,” Hakeni retorted, his laughter echoing in the cell. “Amazing what people will do for twenty quid, isn’t it?”
“What was in the coffee?”
“Cold storm. Triple the fun,” Hakeni spat with anger. “Consider that for my shot arm!” He raised his foot to kick again.
“That’s enough, Ari! Leave now!” a voice with an American accent commanded from the doorway.
“Just one more…”
“Out, now!” the shadowy figure insisted sternly.
Hakeni, visibly frustrated, stormed out of the cell, leaving Sullivan with the man who stood by the door.
“Mr. Sullivan,” the man spoke with a surprisingly calm tone. He moved closer to Sullivan, his back blocking the dim lantern light. “I need your assistance.”
Muffled voices drifted through the open door—a woman and a man, perhaps.
Sullivan tilted his head up slightly, straining to see the man’s face in the dark. “Assistance?” he asked with a wry smile. “You have an interesting approach to asking for help.”
The stranger suddenly flicked on a flashlight, aiming the intense beam directly at Sullivan’s face. In the split second before Sullivan turned away, he caught a glimpse of the man’s hand, old and long-fingered, adorned with a large gold ring.
“Apologies, but I prefer to see who I’m speaking with,” the man said, his voice artificially polite.
“I’d say the same,” Sullivan retorted, squinting against the bright light.
“Not this time.”
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“You see, Rory... May I call you Rory?” The man didn’t wait for a response, continuing, “My name wouldn’t mean much to you. We play in completely different leagues. You’re in a much lower one. Our paths crossing was an unfortunate accident. But now that you’re here... To be blunt, you have something we need. Do you understand what I’m referring to?”
“Let me guess... impeccable manners, unmatched charm, and success with the ladies?” Sullivan quipped, maintaining his composure.
“A sense of humour, I see. But no, I’m referring to the stabiliser.”
“What stabiliser?” Sullivan feigned ignorance.
“The one Orla Gallagher had,” the man replied promptly, without missing a beat.
“Orla, who died in New York? Never met her,” Sullivan retorted, his grin lopsided.
“Let’s be clear, Rory.” The man’s voice was eerily calm, belying the threat in his words. “Your survival isn’t an option. The only variable is how you meet your end. It could be slow and excruciating or swift and sudden.”
“Look, buddy." Sullivan angled his face towards the man, trying to shield his eyes from the blinding flashlight. “Whatever you’ve been told, I never met Orla, and I definitely don’t have any stabilisers.”
“That’s unfortunate,” the man sighed theatrically. “Ari’s prepared a special concoction. One dose, and you’ll spill everything within the hour. The next dose ensures a slow death over several days, filled with unspeakable pain. And you’ll be biting off pieces of your own flesh.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “This is your final chance. Where’s the stabiliser?”
“I told you, I don’t know,” Sullivan stated firmly.
“As you wish, Rory. Unlike you, I have time.” The man snapped off the flashlight and called out loudly for Ari. “You’ll only be dealing with Mr. Hakeni from now on,” he said emotionlessly before swiftly exiting the cell.
Ari Hakeni re-entered, a small syringe in hand, accompanied by the muscleman who had earlier carried Sullivan from the tower’s lobby. The man roughly grabbed Sullivan’s legs, yanking him from the wall. Sullivan hit the floor hard, his head striking the cold stone. The muscleman then sat on his chest, crushing and restricting the Irishman’s breath. He held Sullivan’s head to the side, immobilising it with his strong grip. Sullivan could feel the man’s rancid breath, mixed with a faint scent of perfume.
Hakeni hovered above, expertly plunging the needle into Sullivan’s neck. He pressed the plunger slowly, methodically injecting the syringe’s contents. Almost instantly, Sullivan’s vision began to blur, and an intense burning sensation erupted in his head.
The muscleman rose, lifting Sullivan by the collar and roughly propping him back against the wall. “Don’t wander off... We’ll return in an hour,” Hakeni jeered, his laughter echoing in the small cell. After a brief pause, he delivered a forceful kick to Sullivan’s side.
Sullivan’s vision merged into a formless blur. He heard the harsh scrape of the door closing and the muffled click of the lock. Gasping for air, he breathed rapidly and shallowly, trying to cope with the drug’s effects. His sight was clouded, his head burned from within, nausea churned, and he felt a general, yet bearable, muscular ache, accompanied by chills and weakness. It had to be Nearax—the synthetic drug once used by military intelligence and special forces, now outlawed. Known for its efficiency in extracting information, Sullivan had endured its torment before. After three rounds of injections, his memories would fade to nothing. Occasionally, Nearax had a notorious side effect: irreversible brain damage…