by Ammar Habib
“Mr. Daniels!”
Jonathan’s thoughts were cut short as he turned to see who was calling his name.
The head of the accounting department hurriedly tried to catch up to him.
“Ron. Good to see you.”
“I’m surprised you’re here today, sir. I realize with William’s funeral just this morning—”
“There is work to take care of, isn’t there?”
“We could have changed today’s meeting, sir, if you had—”
“It was better this way.” Jonathan purposely quickened his step toward the meeting room, knowing it was becoming more difficult for Ron to keep up.
“Uh…yes, sir, well…sir, if you have just a moment to spare, sir?”
“What is it?”
“May I speak freely with you, sir?” Ron’s voice contained a hint of hesitation.
“What’s this about, Ron?”
“Your brother.”
“Ethan? What about him?”
“Sir, some of the decisions he’s been making…with the firm’s resources. Both the law firm and the real estate company.”
“It is his money, Ron? He’s allowed to do with it what he pleases.”
“But as the head of this firm’s accounting department, I feel that it is my duty to be concerned about how he is using some of the firm’s funds and assets. He’s threatening the well-being of the companies.”
“What do you mean?” They both turned the corner and continued down the hallway.
“He’s been making very questionable decisions with some of his recent purchases. And by recent, I mean for the past six months. He’s buying stocks in some companies that are going nowhere, buying up large tracts of land. Based on my professional opinion, I think he is being reckless, sir. I can’t see what he thinks it is that he’s doing.” Ron paused for a quick moment. “This all goes hand-in-hand with his continued absences—”
“Absences?”
“I mean he’s acting so strangely. He’s almost never here. And when he’s here, his mind isn’t. He seems…depressed. And he’s hardly ever seen in the public’s eye either. You must have noticed?”
Jonathan ignored the question. “I’ll talk to him.”
“I don’t think he knows what he’s doing and doesn’t know the health of the firms. I don’t think he’s in a position to be making decisions that can affect the lives and families of every person in this building.”
Jonathan suddenly stopped. “Look, Ron. Your concerns have been noted. Ethan is a very busy man and has a lot more on his plate than you know. Between managing the companies and his charities, he is overloaded. It’s only understandable if he’s acting a little strange.”
“Yes, but—”
“It’s his companies and it’s his money, Ron. He’s allowed to do with it what he pleases. I’ll talk to him, but I don’t want to hear anymore about this.” Without waiting for a response, he turned, leaving Ron standing alone.
This was not the first time an employee came asking about Ethan, and it certainly would not be the last. Jonathan was growing weary of the constant questioning and endless speculation about what was happening with his brother…
But Jonathan was protecting a secret.
He was aware that Ethan’s extracurricular activities, although he was not sure if Ethan knew he was aware. However, he would keep Ethan’s secret safe as long as he needed to. He would keep it safe until the mission was finished.
He knew where Ethan was. Ever since William’s death, he was devoting everything into his mission. Every second of every day was dedicated to donning his suit and doing what others could not. Patrolling the streets. Bringing down the wicked and corrupt.
And hunting for William’s killer.
***
Walking into the café’s patio, Marcos quickly saw the man he was looking for. Tony sat at a lone circular table, facing the patio’s entrance. The small, white table-for-two rested only a few feet away from the café’s large window. A blue umbrella sprouted out of the middle of the table and shaded Tony from the dark skies. Tony’s tall, well-built black-suited bodyguard stoically stood a few feet behind him, keeping his inexpressive eyes on the surroundings.
Tony leisurely dined on a plate of salad under the table’s shaded umbrella as he listened once again to his electronic tablet play the recording of President Gonzalez’s auspicious announcement from earlier that morning. He slightly smiled as he heard it.
Marcos motioned his own bodyguard to wait for him by the door and then walked toward Tony’s table, only coming within a couple of feet before Tony took notice. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.”
Tony set the fork down on the plate and motioned at the seat opposite of him. “Marcos, you look good. Please sit down.”
Marcos took the seat opposite Tony.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it? Very big things are happening,” Tony said, breaking the momentary awkward silence.
“Depends on who you ask.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not excited, Marcos.”
“I was until one of our members didn’t show for today’s emergency meeting.”
Tony slyly smirked, ignoring Marcos’s last sentence. “Nonetheless, you cannot deny that exciting things are happening. Exciting changes that have the possibility of forever changing the world’s political landscape.”
Marcos took a deep breath. “You know why I’m here, Tony.”
Tony casually took a sip of his water.
“You weren’t at the meeting.”
Tony lightly chuckled. “Well, you see,” he said, taking another bite of his salad. “Some very pressing things came up.”
“The meeting was more important than whatever you had going on. This is the most important decision we’ve all had to make.”
“Of course it was.”
“Then why weren’t you there?”
“I figured it would be better if I was absent.” Tony leaned back in his seat. “Seeing as how I knew what the outcome of the meeting would be. I didn’t want to show up and spoil the mood.”
“The decision has been made. We’re accepting Gonzalez’s terms to end Marshall Law. The emergency elections will take place two months from now and the people will elect their new leader.”
A slight smirk came back onto Tony’s face. “I have no doubt that it was unanimous.”
“We will be delivering our answer tomorrow.”
Tony looked down at his watch. “Well, my friend, it seems that you will have to change your plans.”
Marcos did not respond.
“Because I will not support the decision or the new government unless I am the only candidate for the presidency.” Tony paused as he drummed his fingers on his armrest. “You see, Marcos, we all know what’ll happen if there are fair elections. Villanueva, the boy scout that the people adore, will win in a landslide. His clean slate and so-called righteous ideals are what the people want without giving it another thought.”
“There will be fair elections and the people will decide on who their new leader will—”
“No…no, they won’t.” Tony leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped together. “Nobody else will run but me! Not Villanueva. Not you. Not anybody.”
There was a long, uneasy silence between the two men.
Marcos wordlessly observed Tony’s leering facial expression and threatening eyes. He always knew it would come to this, but now did not know how to respond.
“Go back to the others and tell them what the new decision will be.”
“Tony, don’t do this. This is what we’ve all worked for. Fair elections and a new start. A new start for everybody. We’ve come too far to turn on each other and be consumed by greed. We’ve—”
“It may be what you’ve worked for…. You’ve known this from the start. You all have. The only reason I was a part of the “Revolution” was for myself. You all have kept me around because you needed my muscle. Without me, the revolution wouldn’t have gotten this fa
r. And now…” Tony slightly shook his head. “My decision is final. Without my support, the new government will crumble. It won’t even last half a year before collapsing on itself. You all need me.”
“Be sensible, Tony. We can’t throw this chance away.” Marcos felt hot with rage, but tried not to show it.
“I am being sensible. I’m thinking of my family and future generations.”
“You’re being selfish.”
“Oh don’t act so surprised—”
“If you don’t agree with our decision, then you leave me no choice.”
The corners of Tony’s mouth curled up once more. “What? Are you going to send your dog after me? Ask him to force me to agree?”
Marcos did not answer.
“If he kills me, then the revolution is over. I don’t need to remind you about how you cannot create a government without my support. None of you have the political power to do it without starting a civil war. And if your dog tries to force me to agree, if he tries to torture me until I give in…I’ll pull out support for the new government, and it will topple before it even has the chance to stand up.” Tony leaned back in his seat once again, knowing that he was holding all the cards. “So tell me, Marcos, what is it that you’re going to do?”
Marcos said nothing.
“Sorry to be the dark cloud on your day, my friend, but I’m afraid that you have no other options.” He quickly took another sip of water. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now. I have business to attend to, and I’d imagine that you have another emergency meeting to call.”
Chapter 16
Bigger Bite
It was a peaceful day in the city, but Katrina’s heart had not been at peace for a long time.
She was sitting on one of the park’s benches next to Ivan. Katrina often came to the park to clear her head. As she sat, Katrina looked down at the few sheets of paper that sat on her lap. She had reread them countless times over, making sure not to miss anything.
It was hard for her to keep her mind on reading contracts with all that was happening, but she knew that numerous people were waiting on her to sign these documents. Some were for business while others were for charities. She could not allow others to suffer just because of her own pain. Coming out in the open instead of being locked away in an office helped, but it did not remove all of her sorrows.
Finally reading through it, she quickly signed her name on the dotted line of the last page and quickly wrote the date next to her signature. She turned and handed the contract to Ivan, who neatly placed it into a brown folder.
With a deep sigh, she gazed at the park surrounding her. Winter was in here in Zimba, and her heart was still stuck in cold. There was no snow, but the air was bitter. The sun was hidden by a layer of grey clouds.
“Do you want to head back to the car?” Ivan asked.
“The office is the last place I want to be right now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Coming to the park always reminded Katrina of her last time in Crown City. The picnic, the stormy night on the rooftop…it all seemed so distant now.
“Has the nurse called today?” Katrina asked, sounding distant.
“No, ma’am. I’d expect she will call within the hour.” Ivan noted Katrina’s tone. “We can’t give up, Ms. Katrina. Any day now, he’ll turn around. I’m sure of it…he’s always been so strong.”
Katrina had no words. For once, she wished she shared Ivan’s outlook.
“When the doctors sent grandpa home, I thought it was a blessing. I thought that he would gradually recover.” She slightly shook her head. “…but I was wrong.”
“Mr. Boris will get better.”
Katrina acted as if she had not heard him. “Every day, he’s slowly dying. I knew it would happen one day. But now that it’s becoming a reality…I…” A tear began to roll down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. “…we’ve been praying so much. We’ve been speaking over him so much, but nothing’s changed. Every day, we’re losing him.”
Ivan was silent. She was in an ocean of pain and it seemed as if he could do nothing to help. Ivan looked around at his surroundings thinking of what he could say to ease her pain. Something. Anything.
“And now Ethan is all alone,” Katrina continued. “William is gone…and now he has nobody left with him to share his burden. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“He will pull through, Ms. Katrina. He’s a fighter. A survivor.”
“But he’s not invincible.”
“He’s the best of us. And he can take whatever is thrown at him.”
“Even he has his limits, Ivan. He’s almost died before.” She looked over at her friend. “I see visions, Ivan. Almost every night now, I see horrendous nightmares. And there’s always a monster. There’s always the beast that Ethan will one day have to face. And…there’s always death. Sometimes mine…and sometimes his.”
Ivan paused for a long moment. “Do you know why he lived, Katrina, when Anthony Griffin almost killed him?”
She did not answer.
“It was not because of anything physical. It was because of your faith in him. And right now, he needs it more than ever.”
***
In Villanueva’s office, he had a secret guest.
It was dark outside. The stars and moon burned brightly tonight, but were blocked by the darkened clouds. A cold wind blew through the city and the downtown streets were flooded with vehicles as they drove up and down the roads. The roads were backed up as drivers impatiently waited at stoplights. Their engines roared and a few of their horns blared.
Crowds of pedestrians flocked the walkways. As they made their way under the lights, their voices almost drowned out the sounds of the road. Almost every building in downtown was illuminated as people worked the night away. Restaurants were full as those who were not working enjoyed the night. A few officers could be seen here and there, doing what they could to keep the peace.
The people went along and did what they pleased unafraid. Unafraid of criminals. Unafraid of the dark.
And up high, on the top floor of Villanueva’s skyscraper, most of the downtown scene of Crown City seemed distant. Here, two men were at the conference table.
Or more accurately: one man and one ghost.
The lights were bright in this locked room. Brown walls enclosed them as Villanueva sat at the long, auburn table and his guest stood right across from him. In front the middle-aged businessman was an array of papers and a spiral full of his handwriting. A laptop computer sat with its illuminated screen facing him.
Villanueva looked away from the screen and at his counterpart. The Guardian’s mask hid any emotion he might have had, shrouding it in a veil of detachment. The masked man’s uniform was perfectly clean. Not a spot of blood, dirt, or filth could be seen anywhere on it. He unemotionally looked at Villanueva, waiting for him to speak.
“From the look of it, it shouldn’t be too hard to pass this constitution,” Villanueva began. “Anybody in the legislature who doesn’t vote for it won’t be in the legislature very long. I can’t imagine anyone not liking what it says.”
“I’m sure a few of the more controversial politicians still in office might not be too enthusiastic,” The Guardian replied.
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Villanueva leaned back in his chair. “So the main difference this new constitution is that it’ll need to have a way for the people to be able to check the authorities. A way for them to ‘police the government’ so-to-speak.”
The Guardian nodded. “The only thing that keeps them in check right now is the fear of me…and I won’t be here forever.”
“Sad as that is. Lord knows we will always have a need for you.”
“Not always.”
“Hard to imagine a time like that, especially after all you’ve done for us.”
“It will be here. Sooner than you think.”
“Now with William gone, you’re all that’s left. You and he were the rocks for
this entire movement.”
The Guardian did not reply.
“The worst part was not being able to even attend his funeral.”
“It was for the best.”
“Maybe. But there was still no excuse.” Villanueva glanced at his journal for a quick second. “I can’t even fathom that in a matter of weeks, everything will be over. I was not even this nervous on my wedding day.”
“There’s nothing to worry about. It will be a landslide in your favor.”
“It’s not the election that worries me. It’s what comes after it.”
“That’s why we’re here, to figure out our first steps.”
Slowly nodding, Villanueva looked back down at his notes. “So…‘policing the government.’ I think everyone in Tripton will like the sound of that.”
The Guardian did not respond, sensing Villanueva was holding something back.
“But we don’t want to give the people too much power at the same time. We can’t cripple the government. Otherwise what’s the point?”
“The point is to find a balance,” The Guardian replied.
“But where is that balance? Where is the line?”
“That’s something you will have to find out.”
“I thought we were doing this together?”
“I am here only to guide you. You are the leader. You are the one who will lead the new beginning. The choices have to be yours.”
“I wish I had as much conviction in myself as you do in me.”
“It’ll come.”
“Maybe not quick enough.”
“There’s a reason people trust you. There’s a reason people look up to you as their hallowed leader.”
“What is it?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” The Guardian motioned back toward Villanueva’s notes. “Work on it.” He then turned and began making his way toward the door. “I’ll be back soon to see what you come up with.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Now of all time? Why?”