Conviction

by Dwayne Gill

  Religious groups claimed these events were the beginning of the end, others supposed it was the product of mind control, and still others swore it was the work of the Illuminati. There was a reason for concern though. Some violent ones, at least the ones identified, turned out to have been ordinary people at one time. Schoolteachers, mechanics, waiters; all seemed to live normal lives dedicated to their work and family. What would cause ordinary people to act so violently with no apparent cause?

  Most of the wild stories faded once some of the marked men surfaced, albeit not how people expected. The men who were turning up had relocated and started over, abandoning their former families and careers. Their markings weren’t as readily explained; the marked men claimed it was the symbol of a brotherhood of sorts promoting peace, but this still failed to explain the origin of the markings. The most widely held belief, besides the wild suggestions of alien or religious origin, was that the marks were tattoos of some unknown technique.

  The explanations made little sense to many people, but after a while, the public was at a loss. Now that a lot of the marked men were turning up in different places, alive and well, there wasn’t much anyone could do except speculate. Besides the small number of them acting violently, the men weren’t hurting anyone, and abandoning your past life isn’t a crime.

  Red Delta had a different approach, never buying the mainstream nonsense. There had been a lot of chatter that the Russians were involved somehow, along with a smaller group of dangerous men who were harder to identify. There were a lot of names floating around, but one name Cane remembered, even today. Amos. His name kept popping up in different places, and Cane was hot on his trail until Red Delta folded.

  Now, thinking back, Cane appreciated that it had come full circle. He was again trying to crack the code of the marked men.

  “Shall we take the mobile center?” asked Lynks.

  “Yes,” said Cane. “Can you get a car lined up for me in Boston?”

  “I’ll call Quinton,” said Lynks. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “We’ll leave tomorrow night,” said Cane.

  It was almost a twenty-two-hour drive to the hotel in Brookline, so they’d have plenty of time to carve out the details. If all went as planned, they’d arrive at the hotel at 6:00 p.m., which would leave six hours to prepare, if the recording proved accurate.

  The Holiday Inn in Brookline was one of the cheaper options if one wanted to stay close to MIT in Boston. The hotel wasn’t small, but it was far from upscale. It wouldn’t be hard to find a room, even on short notice. Cane watched as Lynks browsed the hotel website and satellite images, looking for potential concerns and a parking spot for his large van. There was underground parking, but that wasn’t ideal. Neither one of them preferred being boxed into a garage, in case things went south and they needed to make a hasty exit.

  The two of them made sure they were well rested for the coming trip, and by the next day they felt comfortable enough with their plan to proceed.

  ◆◆◆

  9/7/2028, 10:00 p.m.

  On The Road To Boston

  Cane looked at Lynks in his rear-view mirror, appreciating his determined work effort. Lynks hadn’t stopped since they left their house in Perkins, typing and clicking and studying the screen the entire time. Cane couldn’t imagine functioning without the help of his old friend, and he thought back to the training program, where Lynks received little appreciation for his tech skills. When Red Delta began, the officers didn’t realize how valuable Lynks would be. His intelligence and quick understanding of the technical side was unmatched.

  Back then, the officers didn’t know how much the war on terror would hinge on technology rather than brute force. The internet was gaining serious momentum, and as the world became connected wirelessly, the need for intelligent, tech-savvy personnel became more apparent. The United States surged ahead of the rest of the world in other practical technological advances. By the year 2025, over eighty percent of the vehicles manufactured in the United States were electric, and a large percentage were self-driving. Once vehicles’ batteries lasted months at a time on a single charge, the electric vehicle became the practical choice. By the year 2028, traditional vehicles were so rare that a growing number of convenience stores lacked traditional gas pumps.

  Cell phones had taken large leaps forward, although most would’ve assumed they’d be capable of 3D holographic images by 2028. Though this was not the case, the advances made still astonished, and tablets were causing most other forms of computing to become nearly obsolete. Desktops, and even traditional laptops, were becoming rarer, most opting for the small devices that could outperform their now outdated counterparts.

  Homes were becoming increasingly intelligent and hands-free; everything from automatic locks on doors and windows to voice-controlled appliances were commonplace in high-end homes, but they also became a more affordable feature for even average residences.

  This new society perfectly suited Lynks’s strengths , and he thrived at every turn. He was always careful to stay on top of new technology and developments, even after he and Cane parted ways with the training program. If Red Delta could’ve predicted just how instrumental technology would factor into what the world was doing, they would’ve likely valued him more in the early days.

  “Anything on Natalie Lawrence?” Cane asked.

  Lynks stopped what he was doing and frowned. “Well,” he said, “from what I see, she’s just an out-of-town college student. Squeaky clean. I’ve been diving into her personal and family history. We both know what types of things to look for. They aren’t there. She’s no one.”

  Cane pondered what this could mean. Why would professional assassins be after a simple college student? “Nothing on the parents?” he asked.

  “Same with the parents,” said Lynks. “I’m telling you. There’s nothing.”

  “How about the lady’s voice?” asked Cane. “Any luck with that?”

  Lynks frowned again. “No luck at all. I ran it through several times without a hit. I also looked into the name Amos, but I don’t have enough to go on. I looked for ties to Drugov and Rugov but came up with nothing. It seems like I can’t catch a break today.” Lynks wasn’t used to coming up empty.

  Drugov and Rugov Petrovac were Russian gun smugglers that Cane had pursued years ago; he killed Drugov and was on his way to get Rugov the day he found Kristy in the middle of the highway. Because of his detour, they abandoned the mission. Rugov was surely still out there doing business; the Russians were making big money smuggling guns into the States since electronic firearms were made mandatory.

  Eguns, as they were commonly known, were perhaps the biggest technological advance, and the most controversial, of this generation. The acceptance of these weapons into American society was a long, hard-fought process. An ever-increasing number of preventable mass shootings in the years leading up to 2020 prompted the first serious discussion about moving forward with gun safety, building on ideas still in the earliest stages of development. For years, research was being done on methods to “personalize” guns across the nation. Most ideas centered around a startup called Biofare Technologies that produced “smart” guns, whose triggers were fingerprint-activated, preventing any person other than the owner from using the weapon.

  The other technology was the electronic component, which was far more complicated. In the early 2000s, the electronic mega-Gatling gun called “Metal Storm” shocked the world with its capability of firing 16,000 rounds per second. The government would incorporate it into homeland defense, as it was reliable and deadly enough to shoot missiles out of the sky. The gun not only showed how powerful an electric-firing gun could be, but also showed its economic advantages. However, mass manufacturing smaller electronic guns to replace their primitive counterparts would be a huge, ongoing process.

  The biggest manufacturing hurdle was the power required to operate the weapons, and there was no reasonable solution until companies produced batteries
that lasted for months at a time. Once the new Eguns proved to be reliable in the field and comparable in function to their recoil counterparts, the country slowly integrated them.

  The new guns had a microchip brain in them, which gave each firearm its own fingerprint, much like a computer IP address, and they entered every gun that went into production into a federal database. The federal government could remotely turn the weapons on and off via the computer chip. The gun could not be dismantled, and if someone tampered with the firing mechanism, they would shut it down. Most interestingly, the computer chip stored every gunshot fired by the weapon. The government had to get a warrant to view gun data or turn one off; however, if a gun was reported stolen, they could shut it off at their discretion. The “smart gun” technology allowed each gun’s microchip to identify the gun’s owner as well as the weapon itself. The public had no problem entertaining the idea of having a new, improved, safer gun on the market, but once authorities suggested they replace their traditional counterpart, it didn’t go so well, especially in the Southern states. Traditional gun owners not only were skeptical of the new brand but were also furious at the thought of giving up their prized guns. A lot of them were antiques or had family sentimental value. Tensions rose to an all-time high, and some even feared civil war, but the government didn’t push hard for the change, initially, which likely saved the United States from disaster. Instead, they implemented the new-age weapons slowly by showing their capabilities. The new guns weren’t just safer; they were much more powerful and reliable. Gone were the days of broken firing pins and gun jams, and the bullet velocity dwarfed that of even the most powerful old-gen guns. Once people saw the benefits the new weapons offered the typical gun owner, the tide shifted.

  Eguns also were made to look almost identical to their native counterparts, so people didn’t have to fear holding a weapon that looked like something from the future. In fact, the companies manufacturing these new guns chose names that would reflect what they were trying to replace: .45s were called E45s, 9-mills were called E9s, and so on.

  The government reimbursed the public for the value of their old guns and encouraged people to trade in their old firearms in return for the new generation of weapon at a significant discount.

  A horrific series of mass shootings in 2021 was likely the final straw, pushing even the staunchest defenders of gun ownership over the edge. The five massacres, each one setting new records for the highest body count, claimed nearly two thousand American lives. American citizens who weren’t supposed to own a firearm, yet obtained deadly, military-grade weapons capable of mass damage, orchestrated each shooting. The last of these shootings was at a state high school football championship game, where the two shooters perched near the top of the stadium and had a supreme vantage point. Much like the shooting in Las Vegas in 2017, there was a great deal of confusion as to how the guns were obtained and smuggled into the stadium without detection, and once again, the public was left without satisfactory answers on how to prevent it from happening again. The biggest difference with this shooting was that it was televised; people all across the country witnessed, at least in part, the massacre in the stands, where kids were trapped like fish in a barrel, helpless to escape the barrage of rounds flying at them from above. Even more kids were trampled to death in the ensuing chaos, and some threw themselves from balconies to their death. The shooters were hidden and entrenched, giving them plenty of time to wreak havoc before choosing to end the bloodbath by simultaneously jumping to their deaths. Television stations and internet streams captured it all live, though most broadcasts pulled the plug on at least the worst, most graphic parts. However, online one could view the horror unfold in its entirety, from any angle and perspective they sought, ensuring the moment would live on forever in the minds of all Americans.

  This tragedy was worse than any a foreign terrorist could perpetrate, marking the end of kids feeling safe in their own country. The school shootings leading up to this massacre, though frequent, had always left at least a portion of the nation feeling detached, hence the reason for the false-flag accusations that commonly followed. But this shooting—this massacre couldn’t be ignored or explained away, and no one felt excluded. It touched all of America on a level that no one had seen before, which allowed gun control advocates, with the help of the electronic and bioware companies, to pitch provisions that would be met with optimism. The vast majority of Americans wanted things to change, and they wanted it immediately, and few voiced any opposition.

  There were holdouts, the ones who swore “they’ll have to pry the gun from my cold, dead fingers.” Going door-to-door confiscating guns was out of the question, so the government showed a lot of tolerance for several years, waiting for a better solution. This better method came in 2025 in the form of the density detector. This device could scan an area for the specific metallic qualities of most of the old firearms, and they proved to be deadly accurate. Local law enforcement performed random checks in neighborhoods using the scanners, and only when someone detected firearms did the authorities act. Naturally, there were some that found ways around this method, hiding their weapons’ signatures from the scanners using various materials, even hiding them underground.

  While the number of crimes reported by native weapons plummeted in the following years, there were new, unforeseen problems that arose. Electronic, computerized guns suddenly made computer hackers much more coveted by crowds of criminals that wouldn’t have been interested before. It soon became a race between hackers and the programmers determined to keep the guns from being altered. Lynks’s value in this area could never be overstated; while Cane occasionally used old-fashioned guns, he mostly used Eguns that Lynks hacked.

  The Eguns also ushered in a new era of gun smuggling, and the Russians were some of the main players. American citizens would pay top-dollar for traditional guns and ammo, making the trade a very profitable one. Drugov and Rugov had both been some of the biggest names out there, but there were many more.

  Cane doubted anyone would involve the Russian brothers in anything more sophisticated than smuggling, so the chance of them knowing Amos was probably slim.

  “Bowman would remember him,” said Cane, referring to Amos.

  Lynks looked up at Cane. “I didn’t even think about that. He might shed light on this guy.”

  Cane nodded and dialed Bowman, who answered on the second ring. “Well, well. What are you two up to?” Bowman had a way about him. He liked to poke and tease, though it sometimes seemed a strange fit with his hard demeanor.

  “Captain, who was Amos?” Cane didn’t need to say any more. Bowman remembered every detail of every mission, or in this case, almost mission.

  “Amos,” said Bowman. He paused in thought. “The CIA spooks picked his name up back then. He was working with the Russians, but we didn’t know who he was.”

  “He wasn’t Russian?” asked Cane.

  “No,” said Bowman. “They thought him to be an American citizen.”

  “That’s all you knew about him?” said Cane.

  “Well, yeah,” said Bowman. “That’s what we had you for. You were supposed to find out who he was.” Bowman paused before adding, “He wasn’t the only name chattered about. In fact, he wasn’t the biggest fish. We were just after someone rumored to be in the States at the time.”

  “Do you remember any of the other names?” asked Cane.

  “They never told me the other names,” said Bowman. “I could probably find them, though.”

  “That’d be great,” said Cane.

  “What’s going on?” asked Bowman. “Why the sudden interest in these names?”

  Cane thought of what he should tell him, recalling what the recording said. Trust no one. However, Cane trusted Bowman with his life, and he wasn’t about to follow orders from an anonymous person on a recording.

  “I received a strange message from someone that seems to know about the men with the markings,” said Cane. “It made me think of Amos.
”

  “It should make you think of him,” said Bowman. “They shut us down as we were connecting the dots.”

  The two fell silent for a moment; Cane sensed Bowman was anxious, worried, or both.

  “Are you on the road?” asked Bowman.

  “We’re headed to Boston for a few days,” said Cane.

  “Okay,” said Bowman. “I’ll see what I can dig up. Just watch your back, dealing with these guys. I’ve always sensed something off about the whole situation with the marked men. There was a lot of secrecy and suspicious activity.”

  Bowman was never fond of the feds, nor of any branch of the US government since the dissolution of Red Delta. The trainees weren’t the only ones affected by the shutdown; Bowman took a lot of heat afterward as the man in charge, although he was only following orders. He’d proven his loyalty to Cane frequently in the past and there was no doubt which side Bowman fell on. He treated Cane and Lynks like his son and would do anything for them.

  Room Service

  Friday, 9/8/2028, 9:00 p.m.

  Brookline, Massachusetts

  Cane pulled in to the Holiday Inn in Brookline with plenty of time to unpack and prepare. He and Lynks had parted ways a few hours ago after Cane retrieved his car, and Lynks was in the van parked down the street, using the lane on the shoulder of Beacon Street a couple of blocks away.

  The hotel was larger than he expected, but only the front portion was six stories tall. The rest, which spanned a few blocks, was just one story. Cane approached the clerk in the front lobby and asked which even-numbered rooms were available on the third floor. He wanted room 312, which would be right across the hall from Natalie’s. The clerk was a young college-age-looking boy with spiky hair and freckles. He smiled hard at the request, although his eyes hinted at confusion. He typed at his computer, then read the results aloud. “Rooms 302, 304, 310, 316…”