Rebirth: President Fatah Escapes 39 Rough

Not at my cousin's audacity, no, not at the quiet yet eerily resonating support he received from the others who cowardly stood behind him, using him as a stick to beat out their frustrations about me or as a shield to guard them against my fiery wrath that had just descended upon Loup himself.

No. I was surprised at myself.

As words left my lips I was being as violent as I possibly would allow myself to be with family, distant as they were. Luciano hung by my side and the veteran generals hung by his, whispering things that were meant to reach me but didn't.

All I could hear was a piercing white noise, like a mosquito's song but on stereo. Annoying. I felt like shaking him off me and rebuking his touch but yet…I was still. Still staring firmly at Loup whilst my thoughts scattered, bouncing off the insides of my skull. He looked prepared like he'd made his peace with this being the worst thing that would happen to him, in fact, as I spoke the words he actually looked relieved, made wonder if he thought I would have him executed or something.
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A fine idea actually. I felt like strangling him, inflicting even more pain than I had, I felt like returning them to the poverty that eclipsed their lives before my father came into it. But I knew just between myself and the voices in my head, that it wasn't his relief, his preparedness, his willingness to slight me nor his audacity to follow through that had me enraged and confused.

But his words.

I felt or rather knew that his words held truths that I couldn't deny. I couldn't ignore that a part of me, a large part of me, felt responsible for my parent's death. I'd after all been just a younger replacement for my father in Being X plans. That plan crash, the investigations, everything I did afterwards was just me living a lie. If Schelar prospering was something I desperately needed to fulfil in some vain attempt to finish what he'd started, then why haven't I stopped trying now that I realize that Schelar only exists because of Being X?

Even worse was the realization that not only I but everyone else can see clear as day that my brilliant leadership had brought us to a point of destruction. Perhaps the last thing I'll see is the end of a gun, just like the rest of the people gathered in the tent. Whatever the reasons Being X had, it meant nothing to my father and it means nothing to me. I saw no reason, no meaning in all of my struggles the country had lost its sentimental value the moment Being X let me in.

There wasn't any reason for me to sink with the ship.

"Sir!"

Luciano's voice pierces through the thick haze of my brooding at last. I turn to him and blink out the waters that'd pooled in my eyes from the constant staring. He pulls me to the side before the can fall down my cheeks and he begins whispering again.

"Sir, please reconsider," he pleaded, a rare sight actually, "These are quite dire times as you are most aware. For our upcoming battles against the Malagasy, the veteran generals and I think it best to keep all those who have experience in war, our tactics, your father's tactics."

I raise an eyebrow at this and fold my arms, my attention fully placed on him. "And you mean to say that Loup, who only 'fought' beside my father as a twenty-year-old courier boy would be of such value?"

He stares plainly at me as he utters, "Yes. Perhaps you were too young to remember but Loup played more than just a courier role in the war, he secured our supply lines, something that often got attacked by the Malagasy and not once did he bring a failure we couldn't recoup from."

"This was what? Ten years ago? And you say he still holds skills valuable? That I should reconsider?"

I see Luciano only nod his head, his gaze didn't flatter as I spoke and despite 'pleading' for my consideration, he held an air that spoke differently. It didn't matter whether or not I allowed it, Loup would somehow be brought back in if I wanted any sort of permanence now I'd have to go back in and shoot him in the head.

I let out an exhausted sigh as I shake my head clear of the thought of his blood splattered everywhere, I was making a bad decision and Luciano was trying to correct that. This was no time of my pride. "Fine, just don't let him get out of line like that again or you'll be pleading for yourself, is that understood Luciano?"

The man nods vigorously and we walk back into the tent.

With my hands behind my back and a scowl stretched out on my face I address the folk again, "I'm not going to bother repeating myself but I will go straight to the point. This war is not hopeless, despite what's some of us may think, we aren't fighting a lost war. I need you, my generals to do whatever I necessary to keep up the morale of the men out there on the lines. Help is on the way. Now then? Who is taking me to the meet the men at the border or should I just walk there myself?"

***

My words didn't seem to do much to uplift the Generals dampened spirits but Luciano a.s.sured me he'd make sure even if their spirits were s.h.i.t, it wouldn't get to the men.

I was satisfied with that much. I needed them to give their all in the defence of the border. That's why I gave them a little target practice training and went on to roll out drills and organize new formations with them.

Between having the so-called silver-spooned leader tackle them down, beat them at gun accuracy, reload speed and every other thing they thought themselves experts at, they not only felt a renewed vigour to improve but also a comradery with the man behind the country they served.

Though naturally hesitant to follow my wishes at first, my first sparring opponent quickly found himself under the heavy fury of my a.s.saults. My punches weren't heavy but they were quick and would leave you sored if nothing was done to counter them.

As soon as a counter was attempted, I tanked, taking the brunt of the attack surprising the man but leaving him floored as I sweep his feet off the ground and follow with a final attack with the pocket knife in my vests.

"And that's only a bit of how unrelenting we are to the Malagasy!" I cheer out my victory to the men and they respond in kind, roaring and pumping their fists out.

I help my opponent up, a young man named Renaud "You fought well Renaud but perhaps I was just too quick," I say in jest as we embrace.

"Thank you, sir I'll be sure to improve!" with that and Luciano's approach, the man runs off to join his brothers in training some more, only to receive what looked like teasing.

I shake my head and turn to the encroaching General, my smile still in place knowing what he intended to ask.

"I-I don't remember your father ever bothering to train you in the art of war, Hasina," Luciano looked flabbergasted it put a smile on my face, "What you've displayed here, Hasina, is levels above anything your father himself even knew, he was just a politician after all. How did you…?"

I gave Luciano a wink as I took a moment to catch my breath. While I was immensely skilled at the art, I wasn't the most physically fit person in my nineteen-year-old body to carry out all the manoeuvres that my mind remembered so vividly.

"I'm a nineteen-year-old dictator Luciano, I've got to have a few surprises," I say with a smirk.

He only blinks at my response, "Well any more surprises?"

"Certainly."