"Boston is in rebellion," said one of the boys to Mark, "all the muggles and muggle-borns have joined with a few straggling wizards and witches and they're raising hell. There are even some reports they burned down the Massachusetts Statehouse. Apparently, historical significance or not, they've pretty much had it with organized government."
"Sacramento is doing the same," said another boy, "the California State Capitol building is in ruins."
"All well and good," said a third, "but we must focus on the grand prize: Washington, D.C. If we claim the capital and kill Liam, we can organize the rest of the country and try to make a recovery."
The little revolutionist group stationed in the run-down building of Stuyvesant High School had been planning this master attack on Washington, D.C. for weeks. Just five of them, all 16 year old half-blood wizard boys, were some of the only wizards remaining in New York City. Most others had fled to unoccupied areas such as Saudi Arabia, which was currently leading the Arab countries in the worlds largest scale rebellion against Liam and his Death Eaters under the guidance of Majidah Philo, the daughter of Maryam Philo, the critically acclaimed Philotic Physicist.
"Washington, D.C. will not be that easy to take," said Mark, the generally accepted leader of the group. "It might have been only the home of the American President before, but now it is the home of the dictators of both America and England. It's bound to be swarming with Death Eaters from the moment one enters the city, and we would have to penetrate to its very center, the White House."
"By the way, has anybody seen Samuel?" said the second boy, "I know he was out stopping Inspectors, but he's never been late before…"
Just then, Samuel happened to appear in the center of the room, a dazed expression on his face.
"Sam!" exclaimed Mark, "Where have you been? Are you okay? You like you've just seen a ghost."
"Maybe," Samuel mumbled walking the other side of the room, still with that dazed expression, "She seemed just like a ghost to me."
"Sam," said Mark, "you've never been late before, and when you finally are, you walk in here talking about some girl. We're trying to stage a high level rebellion, and all you think about is a girl you've never even seen before!"
"You just don't get it," he said detachedly. "Perhaps if you had been there, you'd understand."
"Sam, we can't afford to be children anymore," said Mark in a scolding voice, "that luxury was lost with Robert Schaffer."
Samuel gave a little jolt with the name of his father. Mark did not appear to notice.
Then they heard shouting from below. They ran to see what was going on.
"Let me through, let me through!" a small voice was yelling. "I'm not an Inspector!"
The five children ran down to see one of the street boys, Tom, struggling against a plant which was trying to strangle him.
"Relashio!" said Mark, and the plant let him go. "What is it Tom?"
"I've got bad news," he said solemnly. "Majidah Philo is dead. The Arab rebellion against Liam has stopped. Virtually no one is fighting anymore."
"No!" said Mark, "Saudi Arabia was our last hope! This is it! This is the sign we must show to the people of New York City! This is the sign we shall use to rally them together, and form an army! Yes, we shall attack the White House; we shall not let Majidah Philo die in vain! Come on, let us go!"
They walked out into the streets and started calling out the news of the death of Majidah Philo. The people started getting up and following the revolutionary band, and soon their followers had multiplied their number by eight. In the hustle and bustle, Sam slipped out of the group and ran off towards the factory where Andromeda worked.