The shoes echoed down the corridor. The man could hear his loud footfalls but did nothing to prevent the level of noise. He wanted the man he was going to visit to know that he was coming. He was escorted down the dimly lit corridors by two armed guards, equiped with snub-nose weaponry and heavy body armour. Every once in a while, prison cells would be passed on either side of the corridor. The prisoners regarded the guards with hatred, but the other man with confusion and surprise. Many of these men did not believe they had ever seen a man who did what he did.
He arrived at the cell that contained the man he was at Vierlande to visit. The guard closest to the cell, a woman in her mid-thirties with breasts hidden by the bulky armour, reached into one of the suit pockets and removed a key. She held it appropriately and pushed it into the lock. She used her other hand to enter a ten number combination, before turning the key and allowing the cell to open.
The visitor mumbled thanks to the guard, before stepping into the cell. He heard the door close behind him, and the guards take up station to view the conversation. The visitor turned to face the guards, wanting to talk to his client in private but not daring to ask them. But the message was received, and they marched away, with the female guard telling him to call if there was any trouble.
He knew the cameras would still see and record the conversation, but if he couldn't see the eavesdroppers than he felt a little more secure. He turned now to face his new client, and allowed his laminated briefcase to rest on the table placed in the centre of the room. He sat in the empty chair, and faced the man that sat opposite him.
'Herr Zevonen, guten tag. My name is Adolf Borstein, but you may call me Adolf. I am your lawyer. And we need to prepare you for your trial.'
A man appeared from the shadowed corner of the cell. His clothes were roten. A small badge on his shoulder showed a hammer, symbol of Rheinland freedom resistance, the Unioners.
He greeted Adolf Borstein with a handshake. His hand trembled a little. He knew that any sign of weakness would be an advantage to his captors.
"Guten tag, herr Borstein". He stared the man in front of him for few seconds. He knew that he worked for the goverment. His body language didn't lied. This so called lawyer would be a puppet for the polizei and the goverment to finnaly silence him in front a public court.
"Lets sit down, herr Borstein." He pointed to the 2 chairs and table that served him from a diner table to a torture tool on the hands of some polizei that visited him, form time to time.
"So, what can you do for me, herr Borstein? When will this chared will start?" The man glimpsed a surprised expression, hiding a small smile and started to open his suitcase.
"Herr Zevonen, i'm your legal atourney, pointed by the goverment of Rheinland. This isn't a chared. Your life is at risk, mein herr, and i'm here to safe it from the dead penalty. Do you understand ?" repleid the lawyer trying to be convicent with is tone of voice.
"Sure. I bet you are..." said Zevonen smiling "but you said one thing correct, mein herr. My life is at risk, i might face the dead penalty...and you will help me to achieve it..." And he stared to the man in front of him with calm eyes. "Strudel, herr Borstein?"
'Nein, I am trying to cut back on the fatty foods. But you wouldn't have been able to give me one anyway.' Zevonen said nothing, and a silence filled the room for several seconds. Eventually, Borstein continued. 'I have no doubt that you believe me to be some sort of hired charade lawyer as you have already stated. But I assure you herr,' his eyes lost the more friendly tone for a split second, to show pure anger. The emotion was quickly covered over again. 'I am no charade. I am a real lawyer. I believe that all deserve fair and equal representation.'
The expression on the man infront of him did not change. Borstein pulled himself closer to the table, and lent closer toward Zevonen. 'I was raised in Liberty, despite what my name and accent may make you believe. I heard about your arrest and I came running because I knew you would need fair representation.' He moved in closer again, until he was a few inches from Zevonen's face. 'I've heard the stories about paid-off charade lawyers helping the prosecution, although they're very good at hiding it. But I'm not one of those lawyers, and if you don't believe me on that then we'll get nowhere.' He stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back in a professional manner, making sure none of the metal legs brushed and screached against the metal floor.
'Now, if you would come with me, I believe we need to conduct our talks in a more professional environment. There's an interview room a few corridors down, and I'm sure that we will be able to use it.' He began to walk out of the cell, leaving the door open. 'Or you can not believe me and go into your trial with no representation. Your choice.'
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
On that day, Sandra Bachmeier just got to New Berlin. She had bribed a dock mechanic to get a clear docking clearence. While she walked throught Alexanderplatz, she confirmed her ideas how things were on the capital of the mighty Rheinland. Starvation was on the streets, lines of unemployed workers on the goverment buildings, anger, misstrust. She knew that these problems wasnt to go away unless the workers got a voice to spoke for them and to be heard.
She looked at tribunal and shivered with the thought of if the plan didn't work out. While she entered the court room, she looked around and looked for familiar faces. She saw some reporters, goverment officers, police, but no one she could recognize. Than, a door open and escorted by 3 police officers she saw Matthias. He appeared to be alright. She looked at him in his his for a brief moment than she moved to a far corner of the room.
She watched as Matthias was chained to the floor and observed the smiles on the police officers face.
- All rise! - A strong voice shouted. - The trial of the Rheinland people against Matthias Zevonen is presided by Herr Lugmann.
- Please be seated. - Lugmann said. - So, herr Zevonen, you are being charged of several crimes against the vaterland. How do you plea?
Matthias looked at the judge eyes and said. - Guilty, mein herr.
As the trial went on, more charges and witnesses were seen in court. Sandra watched the all thing, always with those words on her head "Guilty, mein herr".
She tried to contact Matthias several times, but all atempts failed when she realized that she could not trust anyone.
While she walked by the plaza, she passed by a police patrol. She looked at them, wondering how those men and a woman could even be sons and daughters of someone, once loved by their parents, when the only feeling she had for them was pure hate.
She knew that Matthias was planning something. He must have an idea about how to escape or anything. But, she only could see on his face was a serenity, a feeling of loss, dissapointment. That wasn't the man she knew for years, the man she learned to trust and who would give his life for any comrade in need.
When she was about to enter the court palice, she hold her steps. She looked around..."Could this be so simple?" She realized the perfect moment, the perfect place to how to free Zevonen from jail. She remenbered some police officers on court whispering about how they would transport Zevonen back to Vierlande when the charges were over and he would wait there for saftey reasons.
"Mein gott, that will be the perfect timing for that."
She turned back and headed to the docks. "I need to get back to Pacifica. We have work to do."