by Joe Nobody
Having settled on a strategy, Gabe soon found himself at the truck accessory store, shopping for some sort of cover for his pickup’s bed. The number of options was dizzying.
He could buy soft covers, hard covers, electric covers, and folding covers. There were models from a variety of manufacturers, some even providing matching paint jobs. Who knew?
Finally picking an electrically operated roll-up model, Gabe perused a popular hunting magazine while he sat waiting for the installation to be completed. He glanced up from the page when a familiar voice sounded from the door.
“I thought that was you,” Chip announced, moving over to shake Gabe’s hand. “How the hell are you, stranger?”
After recovering from the mild shock, Gabe stood and returned the greeting. “Chip, it’s so good to see you. Oh my God, what’s it been? Seven, eight months?”
“At least,” replied Manny’s father. “I’ve started to pick up the phone and call you a dozen times, but you know how it goes. Amanda and I were so upset after Jacob’s funeral… and it took months before Manny got over her grief.”
Gabe nodded his understanding, “I feel the same way, Chip. I’m a little embarrassed that I’ve let so much time pass by without at least calling to say hello. So what’s going on? How is everybody?”
A sad expression flickered across Chip’s face, but only for a moment. “Things were a little rough there for a while,” he stated in a low tone, moving closer to keep the conversation private. “I lost my job after being arrested, you know. Amanda and I had depended on my income to keep our heads above water. For several months, I thought we were going to lose the house and everything.”
Puzzled, Gabe frowned. “I thought all the charges against you were dropped? You lost your job?”
Nodding in disgust, Chip snarled, “Yeah. Our company had a policy about arrests. Can you imagine that? And then there was all the time off fighting city hall. Who knew – right? Anyway, by the time I cleared my name and paid for a blood-sucking lawyer, Amanda and I were broke. I took a job here, installing truck covers just to make ends meet. It was the only thing I could find, the only place that would even talk to me after finding out I had an arrest record for assaulting a police officer.”
Gabe was shocked and embarrassed that he hadn’t checked up on his friend. “I’m so sorry, Chip. I wish I had known. I might have been able to help.”
“When I heard about your settlement, I thought about asking you for a loan, but then I remembered about all those stories you read… the ones about people winning the lottery and every half-baked relative and former acquaintance appearing out of nowhere with their hands extended. I just couldn’t do that.”
Again, Gabe felt terrible. Chip was an honorable guy who had done the right thing. Without his help, Jacob Industries and the drones would still be a dream.
“Didn’t you file your own suit?” Gabe asked, trying to salvage some of his own personal dignity.
“Yeah, we did. It’s still pending, but I don’t have much hope. There wasn’t any video showing what the cops did to me, and that weakens my case considerably. The city is stalling, filing motions to reschedule, and all kinds of legal mumbo-jumbo. I don’t hold out much hope, and the expense is killing us.”
“How’s Manny doing?” Gabe asked, wanting to change the subject.
“She’s doing well in school, making some inroads to try and live a normal life. Jacob’s death tore her up pretty good, Gabe. There for a while, her mother and I were worried she might try and follow him… if you know what I mean.”
Before Gabe could say anything, a voice sounded from back inside the shop’s garage area. “Hey, Chip, the truck in bay number two is ready for ya.”
“Gotta run,” Chip said. “I can’t afford to lose this job. It was great talking to you, Gabe. I’m glad you hurt those son of a bitches… glad you hurt ’em bad. Give me a call sometime, would ya?”
“Sure, Chip. I promise.”
And then he was gone, leaving Gabe in the waiting area, alone with his thoughts.
Retaking a seat, he ignored the magazine that had previously held his attention, so angry with himself that he could only stare at the floor. “What a self-centered piece of shit you are, Gabriel Chase. How uncaring and selfish can a man be?”
He’d been so wrapped up in revenge, so consumed with his own problems and issues. Any idiot would’ve realized that his family wasn’t the only one being wrecked by the events of that night. Even the most antisocial fool would have at least called and checked up on the other victims.
For a moment, he tried to displace the anger and remorse, making a vain attempt to transfer part of the blame to Chip and Amanda. But it wasn’t righteous or fair. If nothing else, the Dentons had shown unbelievable honor and respect by keeping their problems to themselves. “Now that’s a true friend and a big man,” Gabe whispered to the empty lobby. “What a stand-up kind of guy.”
It then occurred to Gabe that perhaps fortune was on his side, yet again.
Chip would be the perfect employee for JI. The man was obviously motivated against ruthless law enforcement, having direct knowledge, and firsthand experience of the problem.
Not only was the man honest and upstanding, his actions that night had shown guts and a capability to handle pressure.
But would he be interested in such a dangerous endeavor?
“It won’t hurt to ask,” Gabe finally mumbled.
Before long, the shop announced that his truck was finished, the new bed cover installed and tested. As he sauntered out to the parking lot, Gabe spied Chip working on another vehicle in the bay. He strolled over and said, “Hey, Buddy, what time do you get off today?”
“Around five, unless a job holds me over.”
“Can I pick you up at quitting time this afternoon? I have a business proposition for you… one I think you’ll like. Let’s get together over coffee and talk it over.”
Taking a step forward with a smile, Chip said, “Oh, Gabe, I didn’t mean to lay a guilt trip on you. You don’t owe me a thing. I appreciate the thought, but you’ve got your own troubles.”
Gabe shook his head, “No, this isn’t a guilt trip. Seriously, I’ve been looking for someone to help me with my new business venture, and after we just talked, I realized you might be the perfect fit. Please, sit and talk with me for a few minutes. If you don’t think it’s a good match, then no harm, no foul.”
It didn’t take Chip long to think it over. “You buying?” he asked with a grin.
“Sure am. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Okay, cool. I’m not in a position to pass up a free cup of coffee. I’ll see you around five.”
Gabe exited the shop after verifying he could operate the new, electric bed cover. Glancing at his watch, he decided there was enough time to test his theory on mobile launch and recovery.
The first stop was back at JI’s office, the heavy cases containing the G-2 unit loaded in short order. Next came the long drive out to the farm.
He drove around for a while, circling the remote property to ensure there weren’t any prying eyes or nosey neighbors. Finally, parking well off the road on one of the many lanes crisscrossing the property, he began to assemble the next generation of his design.
The G-2 had extended range and a more advanced computer brain. With a high-speed, wireless link, Gabe could control the unit via a laptop computer sitting inside the truck’s cab. While the resolution and capabilities weren’t as sophisticated as the main control center back at the office, he thought it was good enough to do the job.
After assembling the Gripen-2, he set the ultra-light bird in the bed of the truck and then pressed the button to close the rollaway top. There was plenty of clearance.
Next, he reopened the mini launch bay and ordered the second generation, airborne spy to lift off.
Skyward it climbed, soaring toward the clouds just as he’d expected. After completing a quick aerial tour of the grounds, he ordered the drone home.
It was an amazing sight, watching the new Gripen glide in and hover above the truck’s bed. Missing dead center by only a few inches, the G-2 touched down a few moments later, sheltered and secreted by the pickup’s sheet metal walls.
With that test completed, Gabe again launched his flying robot, sending it on a preprogrammed course around the farm. After ensuring it was following the waypoints, he started up the truck and drove a half mile further down the lane.
“Come home,” he commanded toward the heavens, fingers rapidly typing on the laptop’s keyboard.
Just like before, the machine responded, appearing over the nearby patch of pine trees and sailing toward the back of the truck.
The unit’s internal GPS was accurate to within 10 feet if the military wasn’t scrambling the signal. Gabe noticed the autopilot was slightly off, but that wasn’t a serious concern. He quickly disengaged the automatic control and took over manually. A few adjustments later, the Gripen landed gently in the bed of the pickup.
“Too easy,” Gabe smiled. “Now let’s go recruit a new employee. Together, we’ll really give the cops something to think about.”
The national reaction to the Archangel story coming out of Houston was widespread and intense. The media couldn’t get enough. Sensing blood in the water, they swarmed like a school of hungry sharks. Voices from social media across all platforms from the White House to a plethora of police unions felt the need to chime in. Congressmen and Senators began calling press conferences; some for, some against the notion of private citizens monitoring the police.
Cable news commentators enjoyed a field day, many coming out in support of whoever was behind the airborne surveillance. Others were trying desperately to “shoot down,” the concept.
As the day wore on, one overriding trend became clear. Those opposed to the Archangel were having trouble justifying their position.
“The police don’t need to be distracted by some clown buzzing their heads with drones when they should be concentrating on catching the bad guys,” spouted one retired police captain. “When one of our brave officers gets killed because he was ducking a flyby instead of watching the felon with the gun, I believe the Archangel should be brought up on murder charges.”
The show’s host didn’t buy it. “In the three examples out of Texas, did the police even know the drone was there?” he asked coyly.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t there,” the captain gruffly responded, taking the easy way out.
“Well, evidently the officers on the scene didn’t know the drone was above them. I doubt they would have used such excessive force if they had realized they were under surveillance. And isn’t that really the Archangel’s goal?”
On and on the debate raged across the internet’s blogs, radio talk shows, and television news programs.
By the time America was driving home from the office, two incidents of copycats were being reported. A drone operator in New Mexico had taunted the police as they made a traffic stop. Hovering in the distance, the machine monitored a rather annoyed looking state trooper as he wrote a speeding ticket. A crowd of onlookers had gathered nearby, breaking out in applause when the tiny robot had buzzed off.
One of the most telling stories to hit the national stage was a caller on a Houston radio program. “I was pulled over about a month ago,” the man began. “The cop wanted to search my car. I refused. He got mad, saying that if I didn’t have anything to hide, why did I care if he looked inside my car? So now, I want to ask the same question back to all the police bitching about the Archangel – if you don’t have anything to hide, why do you care if the drone is watching you?”
It was the essence of a nationwide argument. Why should the police be bothered if they weren’t doing anything wrong?
“Two-dimensional video always looks bad,” responded one commentator. “Any time force is required by law enforcement, it is upsetting to the general public who may not know the suspect’s criminal history. You may see the cops get a little rough with a guy and think it’s excessive, but what you may not know is that the last time the officer approached that individual, the guy pulled a gun and started shooting.”
Polling showed America was split on the topic, almost half of the people for, half against the monitoring of police officers as they performed their duties.
“We already have a system in place,” pushed back one expert on an afternoon cable news show.
“It doesn’t seem to be working,” replied the host. “Only a small percentage of officers who receive complaints ever face criminal charges. As far as internal department disciplinary actions, the average penalty is three days without pay. Hardly a deterrent given the frequency of excessive force claims filed across the nation on a daily basis.”
“If Americans truly believe the system isn’t working, then they should fix it with their vote in the traditional way. Having some unregulated and uncontrolled outsider policing the police is just opening a can of worms and adding additional complexities to an already difficult problem.”
Bringing democracy into the argument intensified the debate. Several people pointed out a nationwide trend – the correlation between the police unions’ endorsements and the candidates who became district attorneys. One activist in New York City even went so far as to claim that there had not been a single DA elected in his lifetime who did not first win the highly coveted nod from the union. It did make folks wonder if the deck were stacked against a system of checks and balances.
And then there were the privacy advocates. In recent years, America had been racked by numerous reports of NSA and government spying. Much of the citizenry was already weary of Big Brother watching their every move, analyzing their emails, and eavesdropping on their phone calls. The concept of private individuals being able to perform the same intrusive acts sparked outrage by some.
Others, however, took a different position. If the government was spying on everyday citizens, why couldn’t those common folk return the favor and spy right back? A few outliers even went so far as to advocate drones monitoring all branches of government, keeping an eye out for corruption, graft, and other abuses.
“The FBI could have 300 million informants if this trend continues,” remarked one Senator who supported the Archangel’s existence. “If every elected official, police officer, federal employee, and lobbyist thought a drone was keeping an eye on their activities, you might have a more affective government for the people. Fill the skies with eyes and ears, I say. Bring on the drones.”
Of course, the predictable comparisons to George Orwell’s famous novel, 1984, filled the airwaves. Where would it end? Were Americans’ bedrooms safe from prying eyes? Would any conversation ever be private again? Some argued that privacy was already an illusion in America.
Gabe, as he drove back from the country, was completely unaware of the commotion his machines were generating. Country and Western music filled the truck’s passenger compartment, assisting the driver’s elevated mood as he managed an easy pace through the winding, pastoral setting. The passing greenery, combined with the day’s technical successes, marked a welcome relief to the stressful, work-filled days of late.
As he approached the Houston metropolitan area, he considered switching to a more informative station, but decided against it. The headlines had grown mundane, and he didn’t want anything to dampen his enthusiasm for the upcoming interview with Chip.
“That’s you?” Chip spouted, almost spitting a mouthful of coffee. “You’re the Archangel?”
Gabe merely nodded, concentrating on reading his friend’s reaction. Would Chip be able to keep a confidence? Was he merely surprised? Or was Manny’s father convinced his old friend had gone insane and couldn’t wait to call the cops?
Shaking his head in disbelief, Chip continued, “I guess I should’ve known. Amanda and I thought you’d be off traveling the world, spending your money in an effort to forget what happened. I’m just stunned over this little revelation.”
“I probably never seemed like the type to embark on something like this,” Gabe admitted. “But letting Jacob’s life end without meaning was simply unacceptable. Creating the drones was the only option I could come up with that was non-violent and might accomplish some good for the country. If nothing else, we might give other parents some level of peace over their teens’ interactions with law enforcement.”
Chip grunted, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have turned into an active shooter if I’d been in your shoes. But I’ve got to admit, your way is the better option.”
“I need help, Chip. Are you interested?”
“Seriously? I thought you just wanted to get that dark secret off your chest. There’s really a job?”
Gabe smiled, “Yes, I’ve got my hands full and could use another pair. Finding someone I could trust, as you might imagine, has proven to be difficult.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Assemble drones, drive them around for launch and recovery, keep an eye on the office, learn how to program them to run the missions…. You name it; I can use some assistance. How much were you making at your old job before that night with the cops?”
With a shy look, Chip divulged, “I was at 92K with pretty good insurance. Now, I’ll be lucky to make 36 this year. Amanda found some part-time work at the school, but we’re still pretty strapped.”
“This job pays 110K per year, but no bennies as of yet,” Gabe announced with a serious expression.
“What? Are you pulling my leg? That’s an awful lot of money for a job that I’d be happy to do for free. You can count me in on anything that messes with those fucking cops.”
Gabe smiled at the response, Chip’s willingness to take on the authorities an important qualification. “No, I’m not pulling your leg. The hours will be a little strange, and I guarantee you’ll earn your money. What do you say?”
It was easy to tell Chip was mulling it over. “I can’t think of any drawbacks or negatives, other than probably getting the shit kicked out of me again if the cops catch us. Will this job require committing any felonies?”