by Eric M Hill
Agent Alvarez shot down East Chicago Ave across Michigan Avenue without getting hit by a car, which was not a small accomplishment.
Anderson made a right on East Tower Court and ran past the Historic Water Tower on the right and made a left on East Pearson Street. Alvarez noticed Anderson’s limp was gone. The chase went on for a few more long blocks. He saw Anderson make a right on North State Street. Alvarez finally made it there.
When he did, the elusive scientist was nowhere to be seen. Then he was. One and a half blocks away, between East Chestnut and East Delaware Place. Ironman or not, how in the world had this man turned the corner and gained a full block?
Agent Alvarez took several long, deep breaths. He wasn’t out of shape, but he had just sprinted several blocks. He pushed past his ego and doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. His burning lungs sucked in air. He looked up. Instead of being gone, Anderson was still there.
Alvarez took another long breath and began the chase again. He turned where he saw Anderson turn—West Delaware Street. He saw him run into a park a block ahead. Hmm, I gained a lot of ground, the agent thought. Alvarez was doing a mixture of trotting and walking now. He walked past a public parking garage and started trotting again. He stopped at the end of the corner, then crossed North Dearborn Street and entered Washington Square Park.
The park’s name was accurate. It was one square city block and full of trees. A planned oasis of greenery in the middle of urban life. At its popular center was a tall fountain surrounded by a short, black iron fence.
The DIGO agent scanned left to right, then left to right again. There were many people out enjoying the mild weather, but no Dr. Anderson. It wasn’t like a long-haired man wearing a red jogging suit wouldn’t stand out in a park this size. Alvarez walked slowly toward the fountain.
“Agent Alvarez,” he heard someone call out. He recognized the voice. He pressed his lips together and let out a breath of disgust. “Come, have a seat.”
Alvarez slowly turned to the left. Anderson was fifty feet away, sitting on a bench that faced the fountain. As he neared the scientist, the green emblem on the side of the cup the man was carrying became familiar. Starbucks. It added to his anger. “What are you drinking?” he asked, taking a seat on the same bench, a couple of feet from him.
“Vanilla latte. Two extra shots of expresso.”
“Hmm,” Alvarez nodded. “Americano’s my drink.”
“Really? That’s surprising. You look more like a peppermint hot chocolate or a flat white kind of guy. Something soft.”
“Dr. Anderson, you don’t mind if—”
“Not at all,” said Anderson, holding out his hand.
Alvarez shook his hand and sat next to him, resting his arm on the top of the bench. He folded his leg atop the other and looked straight ahead at the fountain.
“See, I’m real. Congratulations, you caught me. I take it you object to conversations with holograms.”
“Yeah, that was quite a show you put on back there with your five brothers. You must’ve gotten a kick out of getting four government agents to chase your red-suit holograms up and down the streets of Chicago.”
“I’d like to say it’s purely a utilitarian move on my part, but I’d be lying,” said Anderson. “But yes, Agent Alvarez, I do get a rise every time I send you government aardvarks and your Big Brother toys anywhere other than where I am.” Anderson let out a long, slow breath. “Well, all good things come to an end. If my calculations are correct, they should be figuring out some of this stuff soon. At least enough of it to make it more difficult to fool them. There’s some new ideas I have, though, that should…you’re not here to talk about advanced hologram technology.”
“No, sir, I’m not.” Alvarez reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper that was tucked inside an open-ended envelope. “I’m here to talk about this.”
“Paper.”
Anderson sounded amused, but the agent saw anger and defiance in his eyes. “Yes, paper. A paper from a federal judge ordering you to stand down.”
“Stand down from what?”
“If you’d read the order, Dr. Anderson—”
“I’d enjoy it more if you summed it up for me.”
The Department of Integrity and Government Oversight agent’s eyes narrowed. His countenance darkened, his body tensed. He put the envelope back in his inside pocket. “Okay, Dr. Anderson, I will.” He scooted closer. “You are conspiring to circumvent the United States Constitution.”
“Circumvent the United States Constitution. Can you get any broader? Who’d you get to sign that thing? Rhinard?”
“Yes.”
“When is he ever going to get over that car trunk?”
“Hopefully never.”
“With whom?”
“With whom, what?”
“With whom am I seeking to circumvent the United States Constitution?”
Alvarez hesitated. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady and angry and sick of this bantering. “With the Austin city chief of police, Barry King. With the Austin mayor, John Roussard. With the Travis county district attorney, Wendy Shuman. With the—”
Anderson lifted his palm to Agent Alvarez as he looked at the time on the device he wore on his forearm. He waited until the timer went down. He looked at the DIGO agent. “We only have two minutes.”
A puzzled look came across Alvarez’s face. “Two minutes until what?”
“Two minutes until you start feeling funny. And two minutes and thirty seconds before you pass out. Well, less now.”
“What?” Alvarez exclaimed, instinctively scooting away from him. “You drugged me?” He shook his head, thinking, trying to figure out how this was possible. He jumped up. “You couldn’t have. How would you…? I chased…” The agent’s voice faded.
“Obviously I wanted you to be here or you wouldn’t be here, Agent Alvarez. Now please sit down before the drug takes effect. I needed to talk to you without my unseen audience knowing about our talk.”
Alvarez sat.
“You’re chasing the wrong man, Agent Alvarez.”
“Cuning?” asked Alvarez.
“Yes, Cuning. Did you listen to his speech? He’s not only trying to circumvent the Constitution; he’s trying to destroy it.”
“And how is he trying to destroy it and you’re not? He’s proposing legislation as a smokescreen for you committing mass murder. The politician and the mad scientist. You’re working together, Anderson. And I’m going to stop you both.”
“No, you’re not going to stop us both. I am going to get rid of T1 predators, and hopefully buy us enough time until this country can come to its senses. But you are going to stop the president. You’re going to help me stop him.”
“Anderson!” yelled Alvarez, “you can’t take the law into your own hands. It isn’t up to you and a handful of police chiefs and prison wardens to arbitrarily and unlawfully kill hundreds of thousands of prisoners—even if they deserve it. That’s what the courts are for. That’s what judges and juries are for. That’s what the Bill of Rights is all about. We’re a nation of law and order.”
“We used to be. Not any more.” Anderson’s voice was a mixture of sadness and resolve. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You do have a choice. Yes, your daughter was raped and murdered, but that doesn’t give you the right to play God. And it sure isn’t an excuse to work with a man like Cuning.”
“If I get rid of T1s…,” his voice faded. “If I can get rid of the murderers,” he looked at the agent and tried to will him to understand, “maybe the nation can be saved.”
Agent Alvarez’s eyes went wide, then back to normal. He started blinking quickly. He placed both hands on the bench to steady the swirling. “What about Cuning? You get rid of the murderers and He’ll be reelected. He’ll get the credit. They’ll give him anything he wants. America’s first dictator. Is that what you want?”
“No, that’s not what I want.” He looked int
o the agent’s dazed eyes. “We’re going to get rid of the murderers and take down the president. You and I.”
“How?”
“I have an idea.”
Agent Alvarez was woozy. “I…can’t let’ you…do that. He’s…the president. It’s…”
Anderson moved over and steadied the agent before motioning to someone in a waiting ambulance. “I know, Agent Alvarez. It’s against the law.”
Alvarez was almost gone. He had to stop this madness before Anderson started killing people. “The drug…you can’t…don’t trust him. Cuning watched your daughter…he could’ve…help—”
The agent’s head dropped.
Anderson’s latent rage erupted in his chest. “I know, Agent Alvarez. He did more than watch her die. He killed her. And he’s going to pay."
***
The drug finally wore off. Agent Alvarez’s eyes fluttered several times. They opened fully and landed on a man seated across the room from him. The man was tied to a chair. Agent Alvarez’s senses shook off the remaining wooziness. He was also tied to a chair. Anderson had kidnapped him!
The DIGO agent’s mouth dropped open when he realized the identity of the other man. Had Anderson gone absolutely insane? What could be possibly be up to?
Chapter 40
President Cuning’s chief of staff didn’t hate Anderson, as did his boss. He appreciated brilliance, even in a foe. But his appreciation for this super genius didn’t stop him from wondering why no president had put this man in a secure government facility and forced him to create super weapon systems for his country.
“The president is looking forward to seeing you,” Hal said, as they walked down the hall toward the Oval Office.
Anderson’s expression told him he thought he was full of crap. “I’m sure he is.”
Hal nodded in good nature. He opened the door and motioned for Anderson to enter first. Anderson entered and the chief of staff followed.
Cuning was sitting with one leg crossed high on the other. Anderson noted the snake’s hand resting disgustingly and insultingly on his crotch as he watched them enter. He knew his delay to stand was deliberate, as was the last long squeeze prior to standing and extending his hand to shake.
“You’re not serious, are you?” said Anderson.
Cuning looked at his hand and raised it, palm up, with a chuckle and closed eyes. He shook his head. “No offense taken, Dr. Anderson. Hal’s been trying to break me of that habit for years. Please, have a seat.”
Anderson sat.
“Hal—”
“He can stay, Mr. President.”
Cuning motioned to Hal and he took a seat.
“Mr. President, I appreciate you agreeing to see me on such short notice.”
“I can’t afford to not see you, Dr. Anderson. These are trying times.”
“Mr. President, I’ll get right to the point. I’d like you to resign.”
Cuning looked at his opponent with eyes that sparkled with amusement—and irritation. He shifted backward in his chair. One hand rested on his waist. The other propped under his chin with his elbow resting on the arm of the chair.
“I hope that wasn’t the only reason you requested a meeting with the president of the United States,” said the chief of staff.
Anderson didn’t answer. He and Cuning were locked in a staring contest.
The chief of staff stood. “I’m sorry, Mr. President. Had I known Dr. Anderson was under the influence, I would not have—”
“It’s okay, Hal. I’m sure Dr. Anderson has a second request. One a bit more realistic,” said Cuning.
Anderson stared a few more seconds in silence. “I do.”
Cuning flicked both palms up. “You see, Hal. The art of negotiation. Ask for something you know you can’t get,” the president’s eyes mocked his audacious opponent, “and negotiate for something you think you can get.”
“Withdraw STOP,” said Anderson.
“Withdraw STOP? And why would I do that? You of all people should be the bill’s biggest supporter.”
“Because of my daughter?”
Cuning feigned a sensitive reluctance to answer.
“I’m sorry about your daughter,” said the chief of staff.
Anderson ignored the man. He may have been in on his daughter’s murder. “I want you to withdraw STOP because of what it will do to the nation.”
“What will it do to the nation, Dr. Anderson? Your friend, Chief King, has turned Austin into a city of vigilantes. People are being murdered left and right down there, and I don’t mean by your typical predators. He’s turned housewives and businessmen and elementary school teachers into killers. They’re piling bodies in the streets down there. It has spread all over the nation.
“First, it’s vigilantism. Then it’s anarchy. You want me to let our whole nation turn into one big battleground? STOP may not be perfect, but it’ll do two things I think we both can agree upon. It’ll suck the life from the vigilantism movement. And it’ll take the lives of predators—wholesale.”
“And it’ll create a Constitutional crisis,” said Anderson.
The president looked at him disbelievingly. “A Constitutional crisis?” Cuning looked at his chief of staff, then back at his opponent. “Violent crime has destabilized our nation. Some community self-defense groups are as well armed and trained as military units. Police stations are being blown up. Women can’t walk the streets. The imbecile courts are freeing predators just as fast as we lock them up. I’m at the point of being forced into declaring martial law.” The president leaned forward with sharp, angry eyes. “And the smartest man to ever live is concerned that getting rid of T1 predators will cause a Constitutional crisis.”
The chief of staff was once again impressed with his boss. It showed in a crinkle at the corner of his mouth.
Cuning was proof that Satan was no myth. Anderson reminded himself of his reason for meeting with him. “We can kill predators without STOP.”
“For how long?” the president demanded. “Until some federal judge orders us to stop? Been there. Done that. The American people are tired of this game. I don’t get you at all, Anderson. You’d think that a man whose daughter was beaten, raped, and murdered in broad daylight would be on the side of those trying to get rid of predators. Instead, here—you—are. In the office of the president pleading for the sanctity of a piece of paper that’s proven it should be on the toilet paper roll of some out of the way gas station.”
The chief of staff winced. The president had tipped his hand.
As though he could hear his thoughts, Cuning said, “Don’t worry, Hal. It wasn’t a slip of the tongue. The good doctor and I are much more productive when we speak plainly to one another. I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know. Please, Dr. Anderson, put my chief of staff at ease.”
“Thank you. I’ve always chosen hammers over feathers to get my point across,” said Anderson. “You know if they pass STOP, the Supreme Court will shoot it down.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” said Cuning.
“They will. You know they will. But the damage will already be done. The people will have seen light at the end of your dark tunnel. They’ll demand that you defy the Supreme Court and continue STOP.”
Cuning hinted at a smirk. “Democracy.”
“That’s not democracy. It’s mob rule.”
“A matter of perspective, Dr. Anderson. Congress could exercise its right to impeach me should I defy the Supreme Court. Of course, the people would probably burn down the Capitol building.” The president looked at ease. “Question. What if the Supreme Court affirms STOP?”
“Then you compromise the Bill of Rights. The door’s open for you to do it again and again. Until you get the power you want.”
President Cuning pushed himself back in the chair and crossed his leg again. His hand rested on his crotch. He looked at his desk, but peered into his future and squeezed. And this is the smartest man to ever live? “STOP passes, the Court shuts it down,
the people force me to ignore the Court. Supreme Court forever compromised. STOP passes, the Court rules it constitutional, predators are exterminated like the rabid animals they are. The Bill of Rights is reinterpreted to fundamentally shift the balance of power from the judicial branch to the executive branch.”
“Then what?” asked Anderson, bristling with seething anger. “President for Life? Is that the final goal?”
The president stood, signifying the meeting was coming to a close. “Once democracy has run its course, I serve the people within the context of the new rules.”
“Rules that you’ll make no doubt,” said Anderson. “You have it all figured out, don’t you? And if I don’t kill the predators? You need lots of dead predators to become America’s first dictator.”
“Oh, you’ll give them to me, Dr. Anderson.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“Very.” Cuning squeezed in triumph. “You don’t have a choice. There are two reasons why you’re going to help me. One, predators are destroying your beloved country. If you don’t go after them, the nation you love will destroy itself. And you’re not going to let that happen. Two, a predator raped and murdered your beloved daughter and left her naked and bloodied body in the parking lot of a shopping mall. You’re full of rage. You want revenge. You’re going to get that revenge.” Cuning knew he had him. “Aren’t you, Dr. Anderson?”
Dr. Anderson was glad that his guns had been taken from him by Secret Service prior to coming to see the president. Otherwise, he would have emptied the bullets of both magazines into Cuning’s mouth. He maintained his composure. “Yes, I am, Mr. President. I’m going to avenge the death of my daughter. I’m going to avenge the deaths of millions of daughters.”
“Good,” said Cuning. “I knew we’d work out our differences. The Senate could use a good kick in the butt. How soon before you start taking out predators?”