Rebellion

His Son

His Son

Two Years Earlier

​He walked through the government office and reached a door. He glanced around before opening it and walking inside. He was surprised when he saw who he was looking at. This man was in no way what he pictured him to be. He was young, probably around twenty eight or so.

​"You're Mark?"

​"Yes that's me. You must be Mr. Bennington."

​"Correct. Now what did you want to talk about?"

​"There's word going around that the president isn't feeling too hot. We need a gentle takeover. I'm third in line after the president and vice president. I know who you are and what you do. Take out the vice president and I'll offer you a high position when I take over."

​"When you take over? What do you plan on doing?"

​"I plan on ruling the nation like it should be ruled."

​"You sound insane."

​"This is going to work. Trust me. I have planned it all out."

​"When do you need him taken out by?"

​"President is going tonight," Mark said, "I'd love it if you could get done by then."

​"That's not a problem. What is this position I'll be in?"

​"One of my elites of course."

​"How do you plan for these people to follow you? You'll need a big force."

​"Oh and I have it. You see, I've marked targets, scientists......fighters. They will all comply."

​"And you know this how?"

​Mark smirked and pulled out a bottle, "This baby right here. It's called AM9. Or you could just call it: the worst case of amnesia you've ever had. AM9 erases a person's memory that can only be triggered by a certain thing. It is usually a thing that they care deeply for."

​"And how do you keep the trigger from....walking in unexpectedly?"

​"Well, I plan on kidnapping all the triggers, erasing their trace from the world. Death won't do because I'd have to make sure to get rid of all the evidence. We're going to burn down the houses and then kidnap the triggers."

​"Who are you going after?"

​"These two men," Mark said as he pushed two pictures forward, "Scott Weiland: one of the best scientists there is, currently working at the CDC. The other is Austin Carlile, he's a techy."

​"What do you need them for?"

​"They'll be developing gear for my soldiers."

​He nodded slightly, "I'll take out the vice president today."

​"Good. It was nice meeting you....Mr. Bennington."

<><><><><><>

​"Which one is that?"

​They were standing in a private room where a man was being restrained. He was struggling and cursing.

​"Scott. Can you stop thrashing around for a moment please?" Mark asked as he poured the AM9 into a needle and then approached the man, "Alright. You're going to take a nice little nap for a bit."

​He watched as the drug was injected into the man's neck and the effect was almost immediate. His body stilled so quickly that he thought that the man had died. Platinum blonde patches appeared in his hair.

​"Why did that happen?"

​"The drug makes a slight appearance change, depending on the person," Mark said quickly before storing the drug in his pocket, "Now I just have to get Austin."

​"I have someone who might be a good choice for you actually," he said and Mark gave him a look.

​"What do you mean?"

​"I mean, I have a person in mind you could use. But I'd ask for a favor first."

​"I'm listening," Mark said with a smirk.

​"My son. But I would need some things permanently erased from his mind."

​"How old is your son?"

​"He'd be about twenty-three now."

​"And what would you need erased?"

​"Any memories of me."

​"That can be done. We haven't developed a strong enough drug to erase the full memory. But one person should be no problem. Where does your son live?"

​"Phoenix, Arizona. He has two kids and a wife in the army."

​"Done. We'll bring him in."

​"I want to bring him in."

​"Then you'll be on the team."
​
​There was groaning from the table and Mark grinned before he moved over and gently put his hand on the man's chest.

​"Easy there," he said.

​"What's going on?"

​"You don't remember?" Mark asked feigning surprise, "That hit must've been worse than we thought. You have amnesia. You work for me, I'm the president. You're one of my scientists."

​"Oh," the man muttered, "I.....I had a boy....a son?"

​Mark's face dropped, "I'm sorry, there was no one else at your house when we rescued you. Were you married?"

​"I.....I don't remember," the man managed.

​"The rebels have been getting worse. Maybe they took your son."

​"Then I'm getting him back," Scott hissed. Mark smiled.

​"I'll help. But first, I need your help in the science department."

​"Okay," Scott agreed.

​"That's.....not normal," he muttered to Mark and Mark grinned before shaking his head and leading the new government elite out into the offices.

<><><><><><>

​"This one up here."

​One of the other troops threw a grenade into a house near them. They jumped out of the trucks and he heard yelling inside before they entered. And there he was. His son was standing there with a gun in his hands. He fired twice as he backed up.

​"Back the fuck up," his son screamed. One soldier jumped forward and knocked the young man out the back window. When the rest of them got there, his son was standing up again with the gun. He stepped forward and grabbed the young man around his chest. He screamed and kicked at him but he was shut up with a hit to the head.

​"Get him in the truck," he said and the remaining soldiers dragged his son back to the truck. They were joined by Mark and two boys who were tied up and blinded. They must be his son's trigger.
​When they got back, Mark was dragging the man to the private room and talking into his watch. He followed as Mark strapped his son down and then prepared the injection. An instant later, the needle was in the young man's neck and the drug was injected.

​"When will he wake up?"

​"Soon. A few moments now."

​"You called?"

​"Isn't there supposed to be a sir on the end of that?" Mark addressed the elite who had just walked in.

​"Maybe, but I don't give a damn," Scott countered, "Who is this?"

​"He's an elite. He was injured."

​He leaned forward, "Did you hold up your deal?"

​"He won't remember a single thing about you," Mark replied with a smile and he relaxed slightly. A quiet whimper came from across the room and Mark headed over followed quickly by Scott. He gave the tall elite an odd look. What was with him?

​"Easy there buddy," Mark said with a small smile, "How are you?"

​"I....where am I?" the man asked. His eyes had gone from brown to bright emeralds.

​"You don't remember? The rebels must have some kind of amnesia shit going on. You work for me Chester, you're one of my elites."

​"My boys.....I had two sons......"

​"They were killed," Mark said softly, "By the rebels."

​He saw the broken expression on Chester's face even though he didn't remember them, "I'll kill them."

​"All in good time. You need to recuperate first."

​"No, now."

​"Hey, easy," Scott said softly, "You need to rest. I'll take you to your room okay? You can go out soon but you will need to recover."

​Chester looked at Scott and then finally nodded. The older man smiled slightly and helped him up. And that's when he recognized what Scott was up to. Before Scott could leave he grabbed the man's jacket by the collar and pushed him against the wall.

​"You stay away from my boy," he growled.

​"You don't scare me," Scott said glaring icily at him, "Not in the slightest."

​"Back off," Mark said, "Don't go around hurting my elites."

​ He let go of Scott and the tall elite walked out of the door. He watched as he put his arm around his son and started to lead him around. That man would get on his nerves. Apparently Mark saw that too.

​"By the way, I'm going to send you off to another spot. I want you to be able to start gathering people there too. I'll send you with two of my other trustworthy people. We need to spread out a bit."

​"Whatever."

​Charles Bennington stood in front of the screen as he stared at the young man on the other side of it. He couldn't be older than Mark Wakefield had been when they had met. He was the leader of the rebellion.

​"We won't give him to you," the man said finally.

​"Then we'll take him forcefully and kill you and your friends as we do," Charles replied.

​"I'd like to see you try," the leader snapped, "You're obviously a terrible father. You won't get anywhere near Chester or anyone else."

​"Just wait and see," Charles said before shutting down the screen. He turned to the group of men behind him, "Alright boys. It's time to get ready and go. We have a mission. Take back what's ours and kill the defenders. We'll drug my son once we capture him again so he forgets about everything beforehand."

​"Do we have enough manpower for this?"

​"Yes. The rebels are a ragtag group of people who think they're better than they really are."

​"Okay. Then we will get ready."

​Charles nodded and then turned to the man on his left, "Hack their security feeds. Let me see him."

​The man nodded and started typing on the computer, soon the feed from the Capitol was coming onto his screen. He pointed to one of the screens and the man enlarged it. There was his son, sitting on the bed while a young man who looked slightly Asian wrapped a bandage around his foot. The tall elite was gone and now was replaced by this man. Charles glared at the young man who was taping the gauze around Chester's foot and then gently setting it down. They were talking about something and then they shook hands. He turned from the computer and walked out of the room. He had to rescue his son from turning into something terrible. He'd gotten lucky enough that the first one was gone. Now he would have to get rid of this one too. There was no doubt that the young Asian had given his son the same look that the elite had the first time that he had met him.