by Frank Rich
Cliff looked down and shook his head, smiling. "God, I'll never understand where those people find the time to be so poor."
Kerry stared at him, then at me. "Is he serious?"
I shrugged and looked over my shoulder to the western horizon. A gigantic storm front boiled over the Rockies, lightning crackling along its low black belly, thunderclaps grumbling angrily.
The skyscrapers of downtown Denver rose before us, surrounding the black tower like midget bodyguards. George eased back on the wheel, pointing the nose of the skimmer to the night sky, gaining altitude.
"It's a moonless night," George whispered. "A good night for a raid."
I nodded. "Let's do a flyby from the west and check the layout. Make it fast or we'll get a rocket up our ass."
"Check," George said. He leveled out far above the skyline, a mile from the tower. He hit the throttle and we came in fast.
"See the big center window, second from the top?" I asked George above the roar of the engine. "The lit one?"
"Yeah," George yelled back. "I see it."
"That's the one you're going to put me in."
"Right."
As we approached, I noticed bodies scattered under the security lights at the foot of the tower. The poppers had been busy. As we whooshed over the tower, I looked down at the roof. Rob's sleek black skimmer sat on the pad. I was hoping he'd be home.
"Hey," Kerry cried excitedly, "we didn't get a rocket up our ass!"
"It's a good omen," I said. I pointed at the darkened rooftop of a nearby office building. George nodded and began a spiral descent.
"I wonder if we're doing the right thing," Morris said suddenly.
"Don't start, Morris," Cliff said in a worn tone.
"I'm just wondering if this is morally correct, attacking a government and killing people we don't know. Never mind the legal implications."
"Here he goes," Pieter said. "It's always the same, rubber bullets or real. Ol' gutless Morris."
"This is completely different!" Morris protested. "These are real bullets, and real people are going to die. I'm not so sure it's the right thing to be doing."
"Of course it is," George said. "We're overthrowing an evil government to benefit the oppressed masses."
"I'd like more time to study this revolutionary masses thing to be absolutely certain, that's all."
The skids of the skimmer touched down on the rooftop, and I jumped out. I opened the back door and retrieved a length of twine and a flashlight from the emergency kit under the rear seat.
"It is a pretty crazy thing to be doing." Morris laughed nervously, looking as if he'd like to get out of the skimmer with me. "Attacking a government building."
I tied one end of the twine securely to the left skid and the other around my waist in a quick-release knot with a long tail. I put the flashlight in my pocket and slung the speed-rifle/grenade-launcher so it pointed forward at waist level.
"Don't worry," I told Morris. "There aren't any rights or wrongs. There's no morality, no good or bad, no Heaven or Hell."
"What is there, then?"
I smiled. "There's this moment in time. To do whatever we want. That's all there ever was." I slammed the rear door shut, then went to the passenger door and leaned inside. "I'm on the left skid."
"Left skid, gotcha," George said. "Have a nice flight."
"That's up to you, pal." I looked at all the faces in the skimmer. I saw nervousness and fear and terror. "Lighten up, boys. You only live once."
"That's what we're afraid of," Kerry said.
They laughed uneasily, and some of the tension melted away.
"All right," I said, smiling. "Let's go pop in on Rob, what do you say?"
They whooped as I slammed the door. Stepping back, I gave George a thumbs-up.
The skimmer began to rise into the night sky, whipping me with its rotor wash. The twine went taut, and my feet lifted from the tarmac. When I dangled ten yards above the rooftop, we pivoted ninety degrees and began heading east.
24
I hung between the valley of towers, the cold night air whipping at my hair and clothes. I adjusted the angle of the rifle and looked down, feeling that peculiar tingling in my groin.
We slowed and turned down another valley of steel and glass, and at its end stood the black tower. The skimmer's engine wound up, and I swung out behind the craft as we picked up speed. The wind hit my face in a torrent, and the tower rushed toward me. Two hundred yards away George began making vertical adjustments. The glowing rectangle of Remi's office became my focus. Its light doubled in size every few seconds until I could see dim figures moving inside. I wrapped one hand tightly around the tail of the quick-release knot and the other around the pistol grip of the rifle, and every cell jumped with electricity as my body gorged on adrenaline.
Twenty yards distant I realized I was going in too high. It was steel, not glass that rushed to meet me. George made a final adjustment, but I was still two yards too high. I had but one chance.
I jerked the rope ten yards from the window and squeezed the trigger of the grenade launcher. The rope whipped from around my waist, the window disintegrated below me, and I flew the last meters in a downward arc.
I tumbled through a cloud of smoke, rolled into a pool of shattered Plexiglas, and the world moved in a blur.
Two figures shifted near the bar, and I sprayed them as I somersaulted to my feet. The rifle chattered again, and two guards near the sealed door crumpled. I dived to the floor and rolled, bullets cutting the air above me. I came up and cut down a gunman moving near the desk.
Suddenly it was quiet. I stood in a crouch and listened to the ringing silence, my sweating hands tight on the rifle and light on the trigger. Cordite smoke hung in the air, and bodies twitched. I drew a deep breath and confronted the four survivors cringing near the desk.
"Knock! Knock!" I whispered. Everyone seemed too shocked to reply.
"Knock! Knock!" I said more insistently.
"Wh-who's there?" Marlene stammered out.
"Hans."
"Hans who?"
"Hands up!"
Marlene, Monique, Rob and the Butcher held their hands high as I moved slowly toward them.
"Get over here, Monique," I said. She came over. There were a half-dozen purple bruises on her face, and her Up was freshly split. "You okay?"
"They didn't get anything out of me," she said.
"Take the Butcher's pistol and cover them."
She pulled the pistol from the Butcher's belt holster and leveled it at them.
"Lazarus, roof defenses off," I said.
"Roof defenses off," Lazarus echoed.
I went to the window and took the flashlight from my pocket. I flashed it three times, and in the darkness I saw movement.
"This is a nightmare," Rob whispered hoarsely.
"You're not going to wake up from this one," I told him, returning to the group. "You, Butcher. Step away from the rest."
The Butcher gave me a nervous look and began easing sideways. "I can tell you a lot about this operation. Names, plans, everything."
"Shut up, you coward!" Rob shouted.
"I already know the operation," I said. "I know the whole treacherous plan."
"Not all of it," Butcher said. "There's a lot you don't know."
"Kill him, Jake," Monique said. "He tried to rape me."
"Hold it!" I said in an urgent whisper. "Listen!"
"What?" The Butcher said.
"Can't you hear it?"
The Butcher frowned. "I don't hear nothing."
"Sure you do." I leveled the rifle at him. "It's the Devil knocking."
The burst of bullets threw the Butcher against the wall and held him there a split second, like a gruesome marionette. He slid to the carpet, eyes wide, mouth open.
"You're home now," I said, then turned to Marlene and Rob. "Rob, step away from your sister."
"What are you doing?" Marlene shouted. "What is this?"
I heard an
explosion and gunfire from above. "It's the killing time, Marlene. Death comes to collect. Step away, Rob."
Rob began to tremble and gasp but didn't move.
"Step away!" I shouted.
Rob's body quaked and shook, and tears streamed down his face. Sobs choked him, and he began blubbering apologies. "I'm sorry, I was wrong, it was all a big mistake. I don't want to play anymore, I want to go home."
"What?" I said.
"Can't you see he's just a little boy, Jake?" Marlene said. "He didn't mean it."
Rob nodded. "I didn't mean it. I just want to go back to the Hill." He began sobbing in earnest.
"He doesn't deserve to die," Marlene pleaded. "He's just a child inside."
"Wait a minute!" I shouted. "There's people out there dying in the streets, and he gets to go free?"
"He didn't know any better!" Marlene said. "He thought it was just a big game."
"Just a big game," Rob agreed, sobbing.
I stepped forward and grabbed Rob by the front of his suit. I dragged him over to the shattered window and made him look out.
"Look out there, Rob. Those are houses burning, those are bodies in the streets. They died because of you, don't you see that? Don't you think you should die, too?"
He stared out the window and surveyed the grief he'd caused. "No, it wasn't my fault. I didn't know it would be like this. I didn't want anybody to die. I didn't know what I was doing."
"I don't think you're getting the big picture, Rob. I think you need a closer look." I put my hand on his back and shoved him out the window.
"No!" Marlene screamed. She ran to the window and looked for Rob's tiny broken form lost among the other anonymous bodies on the grass below. "Oh, no. Rob."
"He was the means, not the end," I said.
Marlene looked at me, horrified. "Is it my turn now?"
I stared at her. "No. Despite your guilt."
"I'm guilty of nothing."
"Then who called the SPF to the band house? The only person who could have called them was Mack, and he worked for Remi, not Rob. Who else had the opportunity, who else could have been a spy?"
"Yes, who?" Marlene said, her eyes moving behind me.
I heard the double click of a hammer being thumbed back behind me. I turned around. The pistol in Monique's hand pointed at my belly.
"You, Monique?"
She stared at me, her eyes as cold as ice cubes.
I stared back at the black tapestry of the past week with new eyes. "Jesus! It was you from the start. How could you do this?"
"I was born and bred to it. Just like you."
With a flash of insight, my mind began churning out new realizations. "Rob planted you at the roadhouse when Bruce started to flake," I said. "That was your pilot Willy murdered in the parking lot"
"That's right," she agreed. "But that's not the big joke."
"The big joke," Marlene spoke up, "is that she was really working for Remi, a spy twice over."
"Good guess, sister," Monique said. "Rob thought he recruited me from Remi, just like Babbit, But I never stopped working for Remi."
"What incredible treachery," I said. "And I was certain Mack was the leak."
"He was," Monique said, "but only incidentally. He was recruited from the Remi Youth years ago to keep tabs on the band."
"You and Mack worked together?"
"No, he never knew I was working for Remi too."
I looked at Marlene. "Why didn't you tell me she was a spy?"
"She never knew," Monique said. "Rob duped her as much as you. Just like I duped him. Your arrival tonight was good timing, by the way. Rob had finally figured out I was working for Remi. I guess I waited too long to tell Rob you were in town."
"Why did you wait?" I asked, hoping she had my interests at heart.
"Remi told me to. He wasn't ready for you yet. He was so eager to prove the power of his technology." Monique laughed. "Who would have guessed you would beat him?"
"Well," I said, grasping for hope, "your employers are all dead. Who are you working for now?"
"For myself," she said. "For my father."
The gun jumped in her hand, and the slug punched me to the floor. Pain blossomed in my side, and I could sense the numbness of shock close behind. I tried to get up on my hands and knees but collapsed to the shag. My breathing became shallow, and I could feel the blood pooling warmly around the exit wound in the small of my back. I heard footsteps move toward me and out of the corner of my eye I could see Monique pointing the gun at my head.
"Goodbye, Jake," she said, and thumbed back the trigger.
A strange calm spread through me. I lay with an understanding of the bullet crouched in the barrel, poised to leap into my head. I was surprised to find I neither feared nor hated the instrument of my death. I realized I loved the bullet, and with the realization came blackness.
* * *
"Who shot you?"
I blinked at George's blurry face. "Monique," I croaked.
"What?" George said, crouching beside me. Figures bustled back and forth behind me. "Monique? My God, what did you say to her?"
I got up on my elbows. The bandage wrapped around my waist was stained red. She appeared to have missed my vital organs, intentionally or accidentally, I didn't know. "She was working for them from the start."
"For Remi? Or Rob?"
"Both. Rob recruited her from Remi, or thought he did. He had her dropped at the roadhouse because Rob thought Bruce was falling apart. She was the one who told Remi I was coming. She also called in the spifs at the band house. It was her the whole time."
"But why call in the spifs just then? She knew Remi was no longer in control."
"She didn't think Rob knew she was a double agent. With Remi and Babbit gone, she probably decided to cater to the new king of shit hill." I laughed, and it hurt like hell. "She could teach me a few things about being ruthless."
George shook his head. "And we let her walk right out of here. I still can't believe she'd shoot you."
"I killed her father. Babbit."
"Babbit? Her father? You're kidding."
"They worked as a father-daughter team." I looked to the bandages on my stomach. "Thanks for the first aid, by the way."
"Marlene did it," George said.
I looked around. "Where is she?"
George shrugged. Kerry came up behind George.
"Marlene was never part of the betrayal, then," Kerry said.
"That's right," I said. "Rob fooled her, too. I guess you only believe what you want to."
Cliff sank down beside me. A cut on his forehead had bloodied half his face, and his eyes were alive with battle lust. Behind the wide smile I could see the beast.
"Was it what you expected, Cliff?" I asked.
"It was…" he shifted on heels, struggling for words that would fit "…indescribable. I never felt so alive, so unsafe, so real. I truly feel like a warrior now."
"Enjoy it while you can."
"Oh, I plan to enjoy it for a long time. This is my calling. It always was, I just had to take the first step."
"Welcome to Hell. Where's Morris?"
"Dead."
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right. It wouldn't be real without someone dying." He shrugged.
With help I got to my feet. "How secure is our position?"
Kerry spoke up. "We have this floor sealed off. We told Lazarus to flood the lower levels with tear gas, and the spifs and mercs are pouring out the front. There's a popper waiting for them."
"Great. What's the citywide situation?"
"Riots everywhere," George said. "Calls from surviving SPF stations are coming in through Lazarus. We're ordering them to surrender their weapons and join the people."
"The revolution has arrived," I said. "I hope you're ready for it."
George frowned. "You mean we, don't you?"
"No, I mean you. I'm leaving."
"Who's going to run Denver?"
"You are." I looke
d at Cliff and Kerry. "And you. And Marlene, if she's still around. I suggest you form a coalition."
"What?" George said hotly. "You're gonna run out on us again? What was all this for? Don't you want a split of the power?"
"Split? I never wanted a split of anything."
Kerry spoke up. "But you said…"
"I said we'd have a revolution. Look around, this is it. I never said anything about hanging around to pick up the pieces."
Stevo came over. "The camera's ready, George."
"Excellent! Pardon me a moment." George dashed off to confront the camera. In solemn tones he announced the fall of the old and the arrival of the new.
A phone rang and Cliff answered it. I was left alone with Kerry.
"What do we do now?" Kerry asked.
"Build order from chaos. This populace is used to subjugation. Show them the yoke, and they'll crawl under it."
"You make us sound tike the establishment."
"You are the establishment."
Kerry stared at the floor. "I can't see us doing it without you."
I looked over at George. His speech was rising to a fevered pitch, demanding all the good citizens arm themselves and attack the SPF strongholds that were holding out. Pieter leaned over the controls of Lazarus, barking commands. John and Cliff jabbered excitedly into telephones, drumming up support. "I think you're underestimating yourselves." I shook his hand. "Rule well."
I went around the room, shaking hands and wishing everyone luck. George followed me out.
"I can't believe you're walking out on this glorious sunset of tyranny."
I stepped inside the elevator and pushed the roof button. "Sunsets never last, George. They're always overrun by the night."
"Dawn will break," he countered vigorously. "Where you going, anyway?"
The doors began to close. "Home."
A lone figure stood on the roof, staring over the edge, the rain and wind whipping at her long brown hair. I moved next to her and looked down. Far below us Denver burned.
"It's never what you expect," Marlene said. "You never think about all the death and destruction."
"Destruction brings about renewal. It's sometimes a necessary ingredient."
She nodded. "Doesn't make it any easier to accept."