Whether it was Clément or the others, no one was informed of the meeting location until the appointed time. Only Morgane knew, which is why she was walking ahead of everyone.
Their small group walked in the darkness, their footsteps muffled by the sound of the rain. Each of them was dressed accordingly. Clément, despite the lack of cold, wore a warm winter coat over a hooded jacket. The jacket had become heavy with moisture in just a few minutes.
What a shitty weather! How much further is it?!
As if Léo had heard his silent complaints, he asked Morgane, who had hardly spoken since they left the apartment under cover of night.
"We're almost there. Keep quiet. We don't want to attract the cops' attention."
They had been walking for over an hour and were now navigating a charming street plunged into darkness, which made it feel menacing. The street was narrow, meant for a single car, and cobblestoned. It was far from the cold, simple aesthetic of some neighborhoods in Nanterre. You might think you were in a small provincial town.
The street was relatively clean, though there were signs of fires here and there. All the businesses in the area had closed down on the day of the blackout or soon after. Unlike Paris, there were very few signs of looting.
"We're here," Morgane finally said, stopping in front of a large white building with modern architecture.
"Here? Not bad," commented Lance, hands in his pockets to keep them warm and dry.
"A cinema... It's been a while since I last set foot in one."
Morgane pushed a glass door that opened silently and without resistance. The group entered the building and began to look around. Footprints on the floor indicated that they were not the first to arrive. All of them led in the same direction.
The sound of the rain pounding on the roof echoed around them, bringing a sense of relief.
Like the others, Clément removed his hood and observed the place with a dual perspective: that of a guard and that of an ordinary person who enjoyed watching movies at the cinema with friends.
He remembered his last movie outing. It was just a few days before the blackout. The poster for the film was still in the lobby, near the ticket booths and snack stands that had, of course, been emptied. The other posters seemed less interesting but still caught his attention.
Even if the story didn't seem promising and the actors were unknown, if someone offered to see one of those movies, he would accept with joy. Upon entering the building, he suddenly felt a sense of longing. He missed movies and TV series.
"I saw that one."
"Same. It was good."
"I saw it twice. Loved the final fight scene."
"And the music was awesome."
"You guys coming?" Morgane cut in, growing impatient near the hallway leading to the restrooms and screening rooms.
Morgane led her companions to a heavy double door, which she pushed open. Immediately, numerous heads turned towards her. The screening room was modest and almost full. They were lit by lanterns like the one they had taken with them to find their way in the dark.
The atmosphere was very particular. Clément sensed a certain tension in the air. More than ever, he felt like he was in enemy territory.
At the front, a group of men and women with a threatening demeanor were talking among themselves while keeping an eye on the place. They wore black armbands on their right arms. One of them, armed with a can of black spray paint, was busy drawing a large skull wearing a Japanese helmet on the white projection screen.
A very tall and muscular man approached the small group. He exchanged a few words with Morgane before nodding after quickly assessing the people with her. Clément felt a shiver run down his spine as the man's gaze lingered on him.
Fortunately, he wasn't stopped. His group was simply invited to sit and wait for the meeting to start.
There are way more people here than I thought! I'll never remember all their names and faces!
As he looked around, Clément followed Morgane and the others before settling into one of the red seats in the theater. This action revived many memories. He found himself sitting between Laura and Anthony, feeling as uneasy as a fish caught in a net.
(Karima's POV)
The street she found herself in was far from as peaceful as it should be at this late hour. The team she led consisted of about forty guards, all armed to the teeth and equipped as if going to war.
While keeping a safe distance from the cinema, she monitored suspicious movements behind the building.
The captain was leading a second, even larger team to watch the main entrance. He had to cover other entrances, notably the parking lot and a restaurant.
This operation was the captain's idea, not hers. When she had reported her agent's latest findings, she had regretted thinking they wouldn't be able to capture all the Council's enemies that night. The captain had been very disappointed to note that his second lieutenant hadn't even considered the possibility of having her agent followed to the clandestine meeting place.
Karima had felt so ashamed she wanted to bury herself alive. To make up for it, she was determined not to let any of these criminals escape. She had had her agent, a brave young guard, watched and followed as ordered, and had immediately reported the enemy's chosen gathering place to the captain.
Currently, the captain, the lieutenant, and she were surrounding the cinema.
"Lieutenant, all the men are in position." "Good. We wait for orders. When the rats try to escape, they'll be aggressive. Capture anyone who gives up and eliminate the rest." "Understood!"
Karima showed no fear, no anger, no pity, nothing. She simply watched the white building and waited for something to happen.
Tonight, their little adventure would come to an end.
(Clément's POV)
After them, a few more people entered the room and settled into the comfortable, albeit dusty, seats. Despite the past year without visitors, the room and the cinema had remained in relatively good condition.
Clément did his best to observe the faces of the people in the room, but there was so little light that it was impossible.
A dozen candles had been lit at the front, on the long black stage under the projection screen. An orange glow subtly illuminated the room, allowing the infiltrated agent to distinguish the threatening group armed with sticks and metal bars. Those wearing black armbands didn't seem friendly, just as Morgane had said.
They weren't numerous, but they all looked extremely dangerous, even the two women in the group. Their faces were marked by bruises and scars. One of them had even lost an eye.
Clément leaned toward Anthony to speak without being overheard by the others.
"These guys look dangerous. Why are they here?"
"They are dangerous. I heard they killed a guy they suspected was a cop. It happened before I got here, so I didn't see it. Léo told me, and Morgane confirmed it. We have to deal with them."
"But why? If they're so dangerous, why don't we get rid of them?"
"Because they want the same thing as us and are crazy enough to do anything to bring down the Council. See the one with the eye patch? He's the leader. They used to be a much bigger group and even managed to take control of a small town. They got slaughtered by the general. Their leader got killed, and this guy took over."
So that's the leader! I need to find out more! If possible, I need his name and those of his comrades!
"Uh, his face looks familiar... I think. What's his name?" "Arnaud, I think. But everyone calls him Manta because of a tattoo he has. He was the second-in-command before his boss got killed. Do you really know him?" "Ah, uh, I'm not sure. Especially with that eye patch." "Hmm..."
Damn, they won't be satisfied if I only give them a first name. But with his eye patch and tattoo, that's enough to identify him. The lieutenant should be satisfied, I think. The others, though. Damn it. I can't ask for their names, that would be too suspicious. I don't want to get stabbed.
"We're about to start," said a man wearing a military jacket and a tactical vest that was useless against bullets. "Let the last ones get settled."
Everyone fell silent and focused on the stage where the man with the eye patch, Manta, stood.
He was very intimidating. Although clearly in his fifties, his muscles were still powerful. His jaw was square and covered by a light brown beard. His intact eye, similar to that of a predator, fixed the assembly as if they were prey he was about to kill for pleasure rather than necessity.
He wore a tight red and black t-shirt highlighting his impressive musculature and black military pants.
What are those muscles?! That's insane! He looks like one of those big American actors!
"He was really just the second-in-command before?" Clément whispered to Anthony.
This action, unless others had started talking in the dark, was noticed by one of the few women on the stage, prompting her to intervene.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR A SOUND WHILE THE BOSS IS TALKING!"
(Clément's POV)
The woman, although young and quite beautiful, appeared as ruthless as her comrades. Her stance resembled that of a superior officer facing a bunch of insignificant grubs, and her gaze was like that of a ferocious beast, rivaling her leader's.
He hadn't intervened and remained silent before the many occupied seats. His single eye seemed to scan each person present as if searching for someone in particular. However, this was unlikely since the darkness made it hard to see beyond the first two rows.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began in a solemn, almost warm tone, "I am pleased to see so many of you here tonight. I noticed some new faces as you entered. That's very good. Our group is growing and strengthening day by day. However, we must be very cautious. The selection of our new comrades must be very strict. More than a comrade, the person standing next to you is a brother-in-arms."
Clément felt a lump form in his throat. As his thoughts raced, he saw several heads nod in agreement and heard a few murmurs.
"Make no mistake, we are at war. It began the day of the blackout for most of us when we saw those scum seize power and strip us of our most fundamental freedoms. We can no longer gather, protest, contest, or criticize, and soon we won't even be able to think. If we are here together, it is to fight against tyranny and fascism. We are the defenders of liberty and equality. When these two values are restored in our country, then fraternity will follow!"
The man's clear voice naturally resonated throughout the room. The more he spoke, the more determined the audience seemed. Clément now understood better why individuals with such dark reputations could exert such a strong influence over the group.
This man is dangerous! He must be eliminated quickly!
"Our enemies are numerous, but our cause is just. As time goes on, more ordinary people will understand the danger! They will join us in droves to fight against the tyrant Giraud! But there is another risk: that these same ordinary people will get used to this situation and eventually accept the unacceptable!"
Manta paused again, both to catch his breath and to give the audience time to absorb his words.
"The danger is real, which is why we propose moving to the next stage! We cannot continue hiding and merely talking amongst ourselves. First, we must communicate with the masses. Make them understand that they have traded their freedoms for a semblance of security. Then, we will show them that the general and his henchmen are powerless and thus useless! We propose targeted attacks!"
T-targeted attacks! My God! They're going to assassinate people! Officers! Maybe the general!
As the audience began to stir, a man rushed into the room, his face pale.
"Th-the pigs are here! They're attacking the building!"
Wh-what?!
(Karima's POV)
It has begun.
"Gentlemen, prepare for combat! Move out! Don't let any suspects escape!"
The law enforcement forces quickly took control of the entrance hall but soon encountered strong resistance, particularly from a paramilitary group wearing black armbands on their right arms. Using the layout to their advantage, these rebels managed to reduce their enemies' offensive power. They utilized the furniture to channel the Council's soldiers into narrow, challenging spaces.
The revolutionaries were soon forced to retreat but only to block the law enforcement at various doorways. In these areas, two men could hold off ten, twenty, or even thirty poorly equipped soldiers for several long minutes.
Karima directed the operation from a slight distance, ensuring no incidents occurred. The captain, leading the main force, faced far more pressure than she did.
Eventually, her men forced their way into the projection room, bringing the operation to an end. There were several casualties on both sides, but the Council's victory was decisive.
Unfortunately, several "black armbands" were unaccounted for. Amid the chaos, the leader of this criminal group and his closest comrades had managed to escape by creating an unexpected exit. Karima, positioned in the wrong place, had seen nothing, and the captain had realized it too late.