The Cowboy of Pinnacle City

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The Cowboy of Pinnacle City Page 19

by Ferraro, Bretton


  14

  COWBOY UP

  JON WOKE UP TO THAT MASSIVE POSTER SMASHING into the building on which it hung. He climbed out of his bed went to the window and turned off the dimmer. He stared at it for a few minutes. All those ugly characters adorning it, Jon couldn’t stand them.

  “Our sacred bond is your sacred duty,” it read.

  “I have no clue what that is supposed to mean,” Jon said to himself out loud.

  The longer he stared at it the angrier he became. He turned to look at the clock. It was an hour until midnight. Marcus will be sending somebody to pick him up soon. His head was rushing from everything that had been happening. He didn’t know how to process all of this. He hadn’t had a solid sleep session like that since this nightmare began, and it gave him a rush of adrenalin. He decided it was about time he did something rash in his life. He had an hour to kill so he was going to kill it the best way that he could. He headed to the door and then stopped to look back.

  Something came over him. He felt that he was not going to return home. He stood in the doorway staring into his dark living quarters. He walked back in and grabbed a backpack from the closet. He filled it with a change of clothes and food that he could munch on. He looked on the floor and saw Cowboys. He placed it on top of everything in his bag and headed back to the door. This time he didn’t look back.

  As he was walking down the hall toward the stairs he noticed the maintenance closet. He stopped in front of it for a moment to think. He jiggled the handle. It was open. That was not surprising. Jon walked inside and looked for the largest pair of pliers he could find. Then he noticed a set of bolt cutters and threw them into his bag. He also noticed a welding torch hanging on the wall. He put that in his bag too, for good measure. Then he headed back down the hall and to the stairwell. He ran down all those flights of stairs and bolted out into the alley. He walked into the lobby of the building with the poster hanging from it. He wasn’t expecting anything, but it was worth a try.

  He lifted his arm, pulled back the band and let the computer scan his encrypted data. It worked. Jon couldn’t believe it but it worked.

  “Good evening, Specialist Ballard,” the voice came. “We’re grateful to have you as a guest in our quarters. If you require any information please don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “I need roof access.”

  “Granted, Specialist Ballard.”

  This was surprising.

  The elevator opened-up. Jon hesitated before he got inside. The last time he was on an elevator was nearly his last moment on planet earth. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and it started moving. This elevator was smooth going. The anxiety subsided, and Jon focused on the task at hand. Finally, the elevator doors opened to reveal a long hallway with a short set of steps at the end with the door leading to the roof. Jon got to the door and, not surprisingly, it was opened.

  He ran across the roof like he was evading Enforcement. In a sense, he was. If he were caught doing this he would be put away for some time. As he approached the railing at the very edge of the building he could feel a rush of vertigo as the cool night wind rushed up from the streets below. No turning back. Time to cowboy up.

  Jon reached into his bag and grabbed his newly acquired set of bolt cutters. He found the edge of the poster and began clipping the wires that were holding it on the railing at the top of the building.

  “So long,” he chuckled.

  Clip.

  Snap.

  Zing.

  “Why didn’t I do this years ago?” he asked out loud, and then began to whistle.

  He reached down to snap the last wire holding up that monstrosity.

  “Bye bye.”

  And it went crashing to the street below.

  Jon found his way back to the elevator and back down to the lobby. He walked out into the street where the poster was mangled and folded on top of itself. He reached back into his bag and pulled out the torch. With a giddy smile, he lit the flame and placed it on top of that poster and watched it catch fire. It didn’t ignite in the bon fire Jon was looking for. But it burned. It burned enough to send a clear message to whoever would find it lying there.

  “Citizen!” came that robotic voice from behind.

  Jon’s eyes lit up brighter than the flames in front of him and his heart went colder than the air around him. This was it for him. He had finally gone too far. He was likely to never see the light of day again. Slowly he turned to face his fear and there he was, an Enforcement officer.

  “If you’re finished here I am to take you to see Marcus.”

  That was surprising.

  Jon looked back at the flames. Then back at the Enforcement officer. Then back at the flames. Then he headed towards the cruiser. Nothing was strange anymore. In fact, this seemed just about right at this point.

  As the officer opened the back door for Jon he said, “That took some serious grapes to do what you just did.”

  “I should have done it years ago,” Jon said without a smile.

  The officer got into the driver’s seat, and they were off down the grid system. The gates would begin to lower as the car approached and then raise back up as it passed. As the usual Atlas Grade 2 ride seemed to go, no words were spoken between the officer and Jon, just silence and the ominous presence of the labyrinth.

  Jon felt like he was in the grey area of limbo. He had become all too familiar with the back of an enforcement vehicle. Being somebody who had never even seen the rear seat before, after this last week he could give you the dimensions and measurements of everything back there.

  Then the silence was broken. The officer spoke.

  “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he asked Jon.

  Jon hesitated for a moment, “No. Not really, but… what’s the point of living in a box, doing the bidding of the person that put you there?”

  “You’ll be just fine,” the officer replied.

  The cruiser had left the dark chasms of the towers in downtown Pinnacle City. It was now headed to the outskirts, which was standard procedure at this point. Jon wasn’t blind folded. He got to watch everything pass by and see exactly where they were going. Something seemed eerily familiar about where they were going. They were in the suburbs where some of the elites fled to instead of staying in the downtown towers. What’s more, this is the neighborhood where it all started. This is where Jon had run from Enforcement. This is where his path to Greenwald was put into motion.

  Then it became even more ominous. The vehicle slowed and came to a stop. Despite everything looking the same, Jon could never forget this place. The house they were now in front of was directly across from the porky fellow who no doubt alerted the authorities and had him hauled off to jail. There was something poetic about all of this. The revolution was taking place across the street from the system. Beautiful.

  The officer released Jon from the back seat. Pointed him to the direction of the basement and took back off down the grid. Jon sat and watched him disappear.

  “It’s all about who you know, I guess.” He shrugged and showed himself into the basement door.

  From the outside, you would have never suspected this home to be a meeting spot for citizens who wanted to participate in high treason. It was quiet just like all the other homes in the area. On the inside, however, it was clear. This was the place to be if you fancied a long stint in a tiny jail cell, or the end of a rope.

  The large room was full of people. Shoulder to shoulder. They were all standing and listening to the man in the center of the room. It was Conner. Conner, the worm to end all worms, that useful rodent. He was rabble-rousing, getting the crowd worked up. Jon’s blood went from cool to boiling and then to the point of evaporation. He knew Connor’s game plan was to have them all hanged.

  “Tell them,” Jon shouted after only being in the room for a few moments. The crowd stopped to look at Jon. Connor stopped to look at Jon.

  “Tell them what?” Connor asked.

  Jo
n made his voice as perfectly audible as he could, “tell them who you really are.” And the crowd turned their focus back to Connor. Connor was frozen in his place.

  “Tell them, Specialist Connor Stims.” Now Connor knew that Jon knew everything. “Tell them how deep of an undercover operation you’re running for the party. Tell them about Operation Weed Removal.”

  Connor hesitated and didn’t know how to respond. His hands were red, and he had been caught.

  “He’s an agent for Colonel Everett. He’s not a dweller. The party removed his data chip and planted him on the street. He’s here to put an end to all of you.” Jon waited for Connor to snap back, to defend himself, to accuse Jon but nothing happened. He just stood there, mute and in fear. Then Jon pulled out the paper he stole from Greenwald’s office and threw it at Connor. His goons picked it up and looked it over. Then they put their focus back on Connor.

  They announced to the crowd that Jon was telling the truth. One of them slugged Connor across the face, and another one slugged him in the gut. Connor didn’t fight back. It was almost as if he knew he deserved it. Then his own goons dropped him to the ground, picked him back up at each end of his body and dragged him out of the room.

  Jon caught eyes with Marcus and Marcus gave him a nod of approval. Then Marcus made his way to the center of the room to take Connor’s place.

  “Connor is no longer our concern. We will ensure any information Connor has stays here, but this operation is moving forward. The Premiere will be in Pinnacle if he’s not here already. Tomorrow he will give his speech. We need to be ready to move, and we need to be ready now.”

  Jon felt an arm interlock with his own. He looked over his shoulder. It was Sinda. They didn’t exchange words, they just turned and embraced each other.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered to Jon.

  “Hopefully this will all be over soon,” he replied. They both went back to listening to Marcus speak.

  “This might be our only window of opportunity. The security around Lawrence is not something that we can counter. Except when he gives his speech. He has layers of security details around him at all times, but the inner circle, his personal body guards, are not armed. He’s a paranoid tyrant, and he suspects everybody of plotting to assassinate him. This is especially true at his speaking engagements. The only men with weapons will be posted around the arena, not inside of it. While Lawrence thinks this makes him safe from a lone wolf attack, it makes him more vulnerable to it. There is nobody there to protect him.”

  A voice from the crowd interrupted, “Are you suggesting that we somehow breech through security and shoot the Premiere while he speaks to the nation, live?”

  “Yes,” Marcus shot back, and the crowd became uneasy and began to mutter. “We need to cut the head off the snake, and right in front of the nation.”

  “It won’t work,” Jon shouted. Everybody turned to look at him. Even Jon was stunned at what he had just said and struggled to find his next thought.

  “You got a better idea, Jonny boy?” asked Marcus.

  “If you kill him you will only show your barbarism and another blood thirsty tyrant will take his place. Except instead of stomping on us, they’ll just burn down the entire city.”

  “We’re all listening, my friend.” Marcus was waiting to hear a counter idea.

  Jon stopped to think for a brief-moment. He thought of Johnny and the mayor. He didn’t kill the mayor. He hauled him out into the streets for the entire town to see, and left him there in his own humiliation, defeated and powerless.

  “We need only to humiliate the Premiere,” Jon answered.

  The room was completely silent now.

  “Don’t shoot him, but hold a gun to him for the country to see and expose him as the coward that he is.”

  Everybody turned their attention back to Marcus.

  “You mean break him in front of a national audience?” he asked Jon.

  “Yes.”

  “And what if he doesn’t break? What if he shows the world just what a tyrant he is?”

  “If it doesn’t break him, then it will show the world that he’s touchable. It will show the weakness of the party to protect their leader. Either way it lends us credibility, and it dissolves the party’s.”

  Marcus paused and the severity of the situation was written all over his face. “We have to get this right. Psychological mind games might be the answer but this is our only opportunity. If we don’t get Lawrence now there’s no telling when or if we have this chance again.”

  Jon was confident in his solution, “It will work, Marcus.”

  “Everybody out,” Marcus barked. “You all have your roles to play. See that you do it. We’ll take this from here.”

  The room quickly began to empty. A few people lingered behind and stayed in the room, including Sinda. Marcus got into Jon’s face.

  “You’ve just nominated yourself as the man who cuts the head off the snake.”

  “What?” Jon wasn’t ready for that. “Why, why me?”

  “Because it was your idea. Because you’re the only one that has a clearance to be a guest in that auditorium. Because you will be the face of this resistance. Because there’s more to you than even you care to realize.”

  “How am I supposed to get into the auditorium? I’m a low-level member. Even if I could get into the auditorium, they’d never let me get within shouting distance of the Premiere.”

  “True,” answered Marcus. “But you’re looking at the former chief of security operations. I designed and managed the entire security apparatus that protects the party and every member in it. I oversaw the writing of security systems. I know the security protocol of every party building and the entire grid system.”

  “How do you know they haven’t changed anything since you’ve been gone?” asked Jon.

  “Because I wrote the source code myself. It’s why I was the chief. Nobody will be changing anything for some time to come. I saw to it.”

  “So, what do we do?”

  The small lingering few gathered around Jon and Marcus and listened intently. Marcus went through his plan.

  “I can gain access to any system in the city. What I can’t do is fake an ID chip. The one that’s in your arm. I can get you the clearance you need, but you’re the one that has to be in that audience.

  “The entire broadcasting system is run by an automated computer system. There is nobody behind the camera. There is no producer in the booth. It’s just one low-level tech to make sure the system is operating. They’ll have no idea if the system has been hacked and is being operated remotely – by me.

  “I’ll keep the cameras where they need to be while you make your way to the stage. I’ll cut the transmission and the security protocol for the building once the deed is done.”

  “This is all a bit much, and all of the sudden,” Jon stopped Marcus. “How do I get to the stage? I just walk up, hop on and pull out a gun?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Ah crap…” muttered Jon.

  “As I said, there will be no armed guards in that arena. They’ll all be outside the locked doors. The very doors that I, and only I, will have complete control over. You need only to look like you’re walking to your seat and nobody will suspect a thing. Trust me. I have intimate knowledge on how these events work. You hold the Premiere at gun point, state your piece…”

  Jon interrupted, “and then what? How am I supposed to get out of there with my head still on my shoulders?”

  “I will be in the building with you, Jon. The broadcast system can only be breached from the inside. I can’t get to where you’re going, but I can get to a secure location to override the system while you do your part. The only way out for either of us is where you will have to exercise your faith.”

  “Faith in what?” demanded Jon.

  Marcus paused, “faith that things will always work out in the end.”

  “You’re not comforting me,” said Jon.

/>   “I still have contacts at the top. We can escape with our lives and our freedom, but it’s not going to be through the main lobby doors. I can give you more details before we execute this operation, but you’ll need to trust me.”

  Jon was ready to walk out of the door and never look back, but then he remembered he had already done that with his living quarters. He had already chosen a side, and this was it. There was nothing to go back to, except a jail cell, maybe even a death sentence. He was already a dead man walking. He was being given a unique opportunity on deciding how he wanted to meet his fate. If he was going to die, at least he would die throwing the party into a chaotic tail spin. Jon looked at Sinda. She was concerned for Jon, but her demeanor was peaceful. He felt a calm come over him after the sudden shock of a revolution starting at dawn. Jon turned to Sinda.

  “I have to do this.”

  “I know,” she said.

  Jon looked to Marcus, “What happens if we pull this off?”

  “Then the revolution will begin. We will find out what the citizens want. If they want an end to party rule or if they are happy in their cages, they will be make it known. We can take our city back. We can take our country back.”

  Jon looked Marcus dead in the eyes, “Let’s do this.”

  “The revolution begins tomorrow,” replied Marcus.

  15

  THE REVOLUTION BEGINS

  JON FELT THE TOES OF A BOOT JAB HIM IN THE RIBS. He opened his eyes to Marcus standing over him.

  “It’s time,” said Marcus. “Put on your uniform, and let’s go.”

  Jon looked around to gather his bearings. He had fallen asleep on the basement floor of the house in the suburbs. Sinda was lying next to him, and there were a few others scattered across the ground. The sun hadn’t come up yet. It looked like Marcus had not slept a second of the night. Jon would have shared the same sleepless fate as Marcus, but this was the first chance in days to get a decent amount of sleep, and all the sleepless nights – and beatings – had caught up to Jon in the worst way. But he was ready for today. Jon looked at Sinda, still sleeping, and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. Then he hopped to his feet, threw on his uniform and without word followed Marcus outside and into another Atlas Grade 2.

 

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