by Van Fleisher
J. Edward had left it up to Vijay as to when he wanted to formally start, but between the two of them, he asked Vijay to at least informally begin ASAP. Vijay had just terminated one employee and hired one, in his informal capacity, and now, he was about to invite someone to hack into his company’s IT system.
***
CHAPTER 30 – HIS BEST EVER!
The Green Room, Mohegan Sun Arena, Wilkes-Barre Township, Pennsylvania. Moki Joe was ready and raring to go. He looked at himself closely in the full-length mirror and flashed his familiar smile. He took in the cowboy hat, shirt, kerchief, jeans, and boots on his still athletic frame, but there was no hiding the sorrow and fatigue in his eyes.
The stage manager came in, smiled, and said, “Showtime!” Standing off-stage, Moki Joe was introduced, and then he literally sprinted out to a thunderous roar from the 8,000-plus fans. It took close to ten minutes to quiet them. He began by saying, “I want to thank all of you for coming out today ...” and that was enough to bring on yet another roar.
“Thank you, and I know you all came out to have some fun” ... big cheers again. Moki Joe held his hands up, and the audience quieted down. “This is my final act.” Boos broke out, and Moki Joe waited until it was quiet again. “It’s been a great thrill for me over these many years, and I want to leave you all with something more than my music to remember, so please, hear me out. All of you, and millions of others throughout the country, have supported me, embraced me, and I have felt your love.” Cheering again.
“Thanks, but I wanted to remind all of you about something obvious. I’m half black and half Indian, but I could have been all black or full Indian, or Latino or anything else, and I think that you’d have the same feelings for me and my music. Right?” Cheering again.
“OK. So, my career made me famous. But that doesn’t define who I am as a person. I see a whole lot of white, tan, brown, and black faces out there, and I’ll bet that not all of you can sing, strum, or write music.” Laughter and shouts from the crowd.
“And if you can’t, that doesn’t define you either. Who you are, comes from here,” he said, placing his hand on his heart. “And we all have the same hearts, regardless of the color of our skin.” Cheering.
“It’s our hearts that make this country the greatest in the world.” More cheering.
“So, do old Moki Joe a favor, and when you look at someone, try to get past the color of their skin and look into their hearts.” More cheering.
“Thank you! … OK, I want to dedicate this show, my Final Act, to my amazing daughter Kaya,” and with that, he signaled to his band to let it rip. The crowd went wild, and when the show was over, if you were to ask Moki Joe or most of the fans in attendance, they’d all tell you, it was his best ever.
***
Quincy Medical Center, Massachusetts. Vijay thought that Alek must be progressing well, given the relatively easy access to his room. After Vijay’s name and ID were checked against an approved list by an armed officer, he was free to stay as long as he wished during visitation hours.
Alek was happy to see him and confirmed his good progress. He hoped to be out within a week. Vijay quipped that he would then miss his first day at work, and Alek looked puzzled.
Vijay added, “OK, I guess you haven’t formally accepted yet.”
“Accepted what?”
“The position of Vice President & Chief Information Officer at VitalTech.”
“And you’re offering me that job on what authority?”
“As the new CEO.”
Alek grinned, “That’s awesome! Fantastic! What’s my job pay?”
“Seriously? You want me to negotiate with a guy in a hospital bed? An unemployed guy at that! Let’s wait ‘til you’re off your meds and in an environment where I have less pity on you.”
They laughed, and Vijay filled in Alek on Kalin and his own soft entry back into VitalTech. He told him about Dimitri being MIA and the changes in IT. He pulled a laptop out, looking around for the watchful eyes of Sophie. “Where’s Sophie?”
“It’s her day off, but she’ll be here soon.”
Vijay smiled, “Now, that’s dedication! But before that minor distraction, as your first unofficial act, can you hack into the VitalTech system and cut off John Riley’s and Dimitri Pavlova’s system access?”
Alek returned the smile and said, “Happily! I already love my job!”
***
Mohegan Sun Arena, Wilkes-Barre Township, Pennsylvania. Moki Joe emerged from the shower in his RV. He put on his VT2 and looked past the ‘FN’ to see that in just under an hour, the President of the United States and the Vice President would be ushered in for a few photos, and then the cheeseburgers will arrive for an early dinner. The plan was that the two politicians would then hold a rally in the arena before a lot of drunk, tired, potential voters.
Moki Joe thought about the past two weeks, realizing that he’d hardly thought of his own impending death. He didn’t feel much different physically, but he had an eerie feeling that his watch was right. In fact, his biggest fear had been that he might die before today. He looked around at the living room area, smart deep brown leather and polished wood. The soft drinks were chilling in a large bowl of crushed ice, and there were plates, silverware, napkins, and glasses set up on the low tables in the seating area.
There was a sharp rap on the door, and it was the Secret Service Agent in Charge, giving him the ten-minute warning for a bathroom break or wardrobe adjustments.
And then another knock. Moki Joe opened the door and welcomed in the President of the United States and the Vice President, with the same smile he had just practiced. A couple of photographers followed closely, and they started shooting away as the ingenuous small talk, handshaking, and arms around shoulders took place. And then it was over. The photographers were ushered out, and trays of huge cheeseburgers and cartons of French fries were brought in and placed on the low tables. And then they were alone.
***
Moki Joe motioned for his guests to sit side by side on the settee across from him and offered them the cheeseburgers and fries, placing a burger and fries on his plate after the guests helped themselves. From the bar area, he retrieved two cans of diet cola for them and a bottle of water for himself. Settling onto his settee, as they popped the tops of their colas, Moki Joe cautioned, “Those colas are poison,” invoking a comment the President had used in the past, and the three of them laughed together. He held up his bottled water and pronounced, “Mister President and Mister Vice President, I propose a toast to an even greater next four years.” As he sipped his water, he watched with great interest as the two men across from him took the last healthy gulps and breaths of their lives.
The President turned very red, his eyes bulged, and it looked like he was trying to say something. Then he started turning green and finally a lurid blue, before he crashed sideways, knocking a secured lamp off its base. Moki Joe had been so mesmerized by the contrast between the President’s skin color changes that he almost missed the Vice President’s death throes. His pasty white complexion went through similar color variations, although the colors were more vibrant, before he fell forward, smashing his face onto the low table while making fairly loud gurgling sounds. The egregious sounds were heard by the Secret Service agents standing outside the door, and they burst into the RV, guns drawn, and observed the two slumped figures. One of them quickly spoke into his microphone. “Mogul and Hoosier are down; I repeat Mogul and Hoosier are down. Request urgent medical assistance!”
The agents then looked at Moki Joe, who was still sitting down, holding his bottle of water. One of them asked, “What the hell happened?”
Although Moki Joe knew what was supposed to happen, he was taken by surprise at the speed of it. “I, I don’t know. They popped the tops, took sips of their drinks, and keeled over.”
The agents quickly took in the scene of the two opened cans of colas on the floor next to the lifeless men and Moki Joe holding a bottle of water
. One of the agents checked the bathroom and bedroom. The other one, who seemed to be in charge, nodded toward the remaining cans of cola nestled in the crushed ice. “Where did these come from?”
Moki Joe then made three true statements: “One of the people from the arena or event organizer asked me ... it was either yesterday or this morning … if I wanted beverages.” That was true.
“I asked for six diet colas, cause I know that’s what the President drinks, and some bottled water.” That was also true, but it wasn’t the arena or event organizer that he’d asked.
“When I returned from my show, the colas and water were here.” True.
The medics took the bodies away. They were quite dead. The secret service agents then began to ask dozens of questions to which he truthfully answered, “I don’t know” most of the time. Somebody carefully collected the two open cola cans and the unopened ones, as well as the water bottles.
The Secret Service Agent in Charge told Moki Joe to leave everything as it was. He was being held here until further notice. Moki Joe asked if he could watch TV, and he was given permission.
He turned on his TV and was surprised to see how fast everything was happening from the public’s perspective. He chuckled to think that he and his brother were the only ones who really knew.
There were the initial shock headlines and main newscasters bringing in their on-the-scene local affiliates to describe what happened: “Apparently … poisoned.” And then the newscast broke away to Washington, D.C., where the Speaker of the House was being sworn in. She appeared solemn and respectful in her white dress, but from everything that preceded today, he wouldn’t have been surprised if she whooped and hollered. Sadly, he could never tell Kaya that he was responsible for the first female President of the United States.
***
Washington, D.C. Just after 2:00 p.m., Zoe got a call from Hawke. He told her that the President and Vice President were both dead, along with the few available details. It appeared to be poison, but it was not known how it was administered. He shocked her when he asked if the VT2 data feed had resumed. She confirmed it had and asked if Hawke thought a Final Notice recipient was responsible. He said he didn’t have any reason to believe that, but wanted to cross it off the list of possibilities.
Zoe re-checked her VitalTech report, and although she could see a Final Notice recipient in the Wilkes-Barre area, he wasn’t tagged as a threat. She called Vijay, and when he answered, she immediately asked, “Can you get into the VitalTech system and see if there are any Final Notice recipients in the area of Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania?”
Vijay and Alek had heard several shouts and people running around, but they didn’t know what had happened.
Vijay knew something wasn’t right and motioned to Alek to turn on the TV while he asked, “What’s going on?”
“The President and Vice President have been killed.”
Vijay saw the glaring headlines on the TV, and he asked, “Do you think a Recipient was involved with the President’s murder?”
Zoe replied, “I have no reason to think so, and the killings weren’t by guns. I see one Recipient in the immediate area but not in an elevated state. There are two others close by, also in normal states. Can you double-check and look at them and their history?”
Vijay tapped away and said, “There are three within a radius of twenty miles.”
“Any on high alert?”
More tapping and then, “There’s one that seems to be displaying the typical post anger calm that we’ve seen with earlier killings. Let me look into the history …Yes! He was on high alert a couple of hours ago. Hmm, he also had a huge anger spike about two weeks ago, but then dropped, increasing slowly until the recent alert.”
“What’s the recipient’s name?” But she already knew the answer.
“Hunter. MJ Hunter.
Zoe’s heart sank, but she shot back at Vijay, “Why didn’t the data feed alert us?”
Vijay muttered, “Just a second,” while he looked at the history … “I can’t see any reason why it didn’t. It seems to be working.”
She hung up with Vijay and called Ninad. He was immediately aware of the situation. “This morning at 10:55 a.m., I received a call from Secret Service Agent Gilmore in response to a Final Notice Alert that had been pushed out to them. He was acknowledging receipt of the alert, as set up in our protocol, and said the situation was under control.”
Zoe clicked some keys on her computer to find the FBI Agent-in-Charge on the scene at the Sun Arena. She called and explained the situation with a suspect named MJ Hunter, and the agent was surprised. “You mean Moki Joe Hunter, the entertainer?”
Now Zoe was surprised. She knew who Moki Joe was but hadn’t realized that was MJ Hunter. “Moki Joe Hunter is there at the scene?”
The agent explained what they knew so far, which was that the President and Vice President were with Hunter in his RV when they both died from what appeared to be poison, possibly contained in cans of cola. Hunter had been questioned by the Secret Service but claimed that the cans had been delivered while he was out.
Zoe explained Hunter’s Final Notice alert and the changes in his emotional readings, and that a Secret Service Agent Gilmore had said that the situation was under control. Zoe told him that Moki Joe Hunter was considered a prime suspect and needed to be held.
She hung up and called Vijay back. “How long does Hunter have to live according to the VT2?”
Vijay tapped some keys and replied, “Two days. Three at most.”
She called Hawke and gave him the news. There was a moment of silence, and then he said, “So we might have stopped him if he’d had a gun. I’ll get the on-site team to put more pressure on him.”
***
Mohegan Sun Arena, Wilkes-Barre Township, Pennsylvania. The FBI at the crime scene were briefed regarding Moki Joe’s Final Notice status, and they intensified their questioning. They were fighting an uphill battle, however, even though the circumstantial evidence pointed to him as the perpetrator. The combination of Moki Joe’s celebrity, his apparent lack of motive or inclination, and his spiritual serenity – along with the absence of any evidence that connected him – made him equally unlikely to be a criminal.
Moki Joe confirmed that he was aware of the watch’s prediction and explained that he had probably gone through the same stages of dying that most people in his situation had experienced, including anger. But he had come through that and was now at peace. He also didn’t doubt that his emotional levels would have seen some pretty steep peaks and valleys, but he countered by asking them if they’d ever performed in front of 8,000 screaming fans?
He had always been a supporter of the President. He showed them the photo of himself and the President at the White House, with the President’s signature and inscription, “To a great friend and true American.”
They asked him the same questions, over and over, regarding how the cans of cola had arrived. And Moki Joe explained, over and over again, that they were there when he got back from a walk. As far as he knew, the only people permitted to enter his RV while he was performing were the Secret Service.
***
Washington, D.C. Hawke called Zoe. “We’ll need to talk with Vijay to get a statement of how his system works, along with his interpretation of Hunter’s physical and emotional state, based on the VT2 readings. I’ll have someone from the team carrying out the investigation give him a call. You can tell him to expect one.
“In the meantime, we have a public relations dilemma: A Country & Western superstar and supporter of the President whose only provable ‘crime’ so far is that he was there when it happened. And, he’ll be dead in a couple of days.”
***
Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts. Within an hour, Vijay did get a call asking him if he could provide some information and make a sworn statement. He agreed, and two FBI agents were with him within another hour. In a recorded interview, Vijay explained how the VitalTech system worked and how he had
developed a new analytical process that would assess the emotional state of Final Notice recipients. They wanted to know its degree of accuracy in this situation, and he explained that it would be impossible to measure it until there were dozens, perhaps hundreds, of similar situations – i.e., murders by a highly energetic, emotional performer preparing to entertain 8,000 fans. Even then, he doubted that it would be foolproof. The system could only forecast a likelihood, not an inevitability of violence. In reality, it could only explain why someone might have acted violently.
***
CHAPTER 31 – FINAL, FINAL NOTICE