by C. A. Gray
So that’s what he’d say to me right now. Is my emotion, and what it makes me want to do, consistent with my ultimate goal?
What is my emotion? Fear.
What is the purpose of fear? I thought for a minute. Protection. It gets me out of harm’s way.
Is that useful right now? Ha. The answer to that was obvious.
All right then, what’s more useful than fear? That’s what he’d say to me, and I’d want to snap at him, Not like I can help being afraid right now!
But I knew what the answer would be to that, too. That’s a lie, Kate. You can always help it. Emotions make great servants, but terrible masters.
He could be so irritating.
Yet somehow, this little internal exchange with an imaginary Jackson helped to steady me. It was almost like I borrowed his strength for a moment, and suddenly I understood what it was that I really needed, once I already had it: a clear head. I needed that because I needed a strategy, and a clear head was a prerequisite to finding a strategy.
I looked at the cluster of men across the room from me: assistants, agents, and Secret Service standing around Voltolini. Many of them spoke to one another intently. Voltolini wore a smile, but the others seemed distraught. I wasn’t sure why.
One of them stood aloof: Jefferson Collins, the Speaker for the Tribunal. He looked almost as agitated as I felt, wringing his hands and wiping his brow. He’d appeared the same at my trial, too, I recalled. I wasn’t sure how I could tell from his posture, but he looked like he was wracked with stomach cramps and would double over where he stood at any minute.
Call him over, I thought. I wasn’t sure where the thought came from—instinct I suppose. I didn’t exactly know what I was going to say when he arrived, either. But I beckoned him with my finger, holding the script as if I had a question about it. He hurried to my side, as if glad to have something to do.
“Miss Brandeis?” he panted. “Do you have a question?”
I decided I had nothing to lose. After all, they all clearly knew I was a traitor at this point—otherwise, why the elaborate torture display behind the glass?
“The rebels are coming,” I told him. “You know what that means.”
His eyes widened.
“They want Voltolini to think they’re prisoners, but they’re not. Jackson is still alive—I’m sure you all know that by now. He’s with them, and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Remember what happened to the Tribunal the last time you held me captive?”
Collins blanched, and nodded weakly. “He—he’s coming for you. Isn’t he?”
Not where I’d planned to take this, but sure, that would work. I nodded.
“He’s gonna kill us all!” Collins tried to stuff a fist into his mouth.
“Not if I tell him who is loyal to our side,” I said, staring hard into his eyes.
I thought the little man would hyperventilate, looking from me to Voltolini and back again, as if deciding which team to bet on. I pressed my case.
“The Potentate is going down soon. It’s just a matter of time. Look at them—they all know it.” Indeed, most of the other Tribunal members around Voltolini looked worried, which helped my case, though I had no idea why. “Anybody complicit with him will be held responsible for his crimes under the new regime.”
“The new regime?” Collins repeated, breathless.
I nodded. “You have the opportunity to be a hero or a villain, and I assure you, we will honor or condemn you accordingly. Choose right now.”
Collins bit his lip, and his eyes began to water. At last, he whispered, “What do you want me to do?”
I hesitated. I knew he was armed—I could see the weapon strapped around his waist. I suspected that by now, all the Tribunal and the agents directly surrounding Voltolini would be armed with real guns, not the Deep Impact kind.
“Give me your gun,” I whispered.
Chapter 35: Jackson
“Molly,” Nick moaned in despair, talking to himself rather than us. “Why the hell couldn’t they have put us in the same car? What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?”
“Um,” Charlie whispered back, “just curious: what would you have done if she was in the same car with you?”
“Escaped!” Nick hissed. “I’d have found a way!”
“Well that would be good for all of us, not just Molly,” Charlie pointed out.
It was only the second time I’d been in the backseat of one of the black sedans. The first time I hadn’t seen the silver screen on the panel separating the front from the back, because the panel had been down then. I noted it now as I took stock of our surroundings, trying to work out an escape plan. Unfortunately, all I could think of was to lay on my back and kick out the windows in the backseat: a maneuver I couldn’t pull off with the others sitting beside me. I wouldn’t have the leverage.
But then again… “Do we really want to escape right now?” I whispered.
“Uhh,” said Charlie. “Yeah. I think so, man.”
“But they’re taking us to the palace. That’s exactly where we want to go,” I pointed out. “Granted, we didn’t plan to make such a splash with our arrival, but shouldn’t we wait to try to escape when we get there?”
“You mean when there are tons of palace guards all over us every step of the way?”
“They’ll be there to escort us to the dungeons,” I said, “and once we get inside the dungeons, the walkway between the cells on either side is narrow. We can only walk two abreast—”
“Yeah. I’ve been there too, remember?” Charlie interrupted.
“Right, so you know what I’m talking about,” I nodded. “If it’s just the one or two agents right next to or behind me, I can take that many, even cuffed. The trick will be getting my hands free fast enough to help you guys…”
“But then what, Jackson?” Nick hissed. “We’re still massively outnumbered, and we’ve lost all chance of surprise! We’ve lost! It’s over!”
I shook my head at Charlie. “He’s in shock; he’ll come around.”
“He does have a point, though,” Charlie returned.
I pressed, “Once we’re free and inside the dungeons, all we have to do is find Kate’s secret passage. Remember I mentioned it in Friedrichsburg?” Charlie nodded, thinking hard as I went on, “I think I know how to get in to it. Once we overpower the guards in the dungeon with us, then we can all crawl into the passage, hide out until nightfall, and try to find the IT wing from the inside—”
I stopped, hearing muffled voices from the front seat through the partition. I could just make out one agent saying to the other, “Does the world look… different to you?”
“Oh, thank God, I thought I was seeing things!” exclaimed the other.
“Our signal disruptors,” Charlie mouthed at me. “We might be able to use that.”
Just then, the seal of the Republic appeared on the silver screen on the partition. I’d been leaning against it, trying to make out the agents’ words. I leaned back, wondering if I’d set it off somehow.
When the cameras came into focus, my heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach.
It was Kate.
Chapter 36: Kate
Collins slipped his gun beneath my script and then put the whole thing back in my lap beneath the mahogany news table.
“Tell Jackson I helped you!” he pleaded in his squeaky voice. “Tell him to be merciful!”
“I will,” I promised, as the pitiful old man scurried back to Voltolini’s side.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Voltolini snapped when he saw the state Collins was in, but he didn’t wait for the reply. “How much longer?” he barked at the agent who had alerted him to the approaching rebels.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Good. We go live in ten,” said Voltolini.
Ten minutes, I thought, my heart thundering in my chest. Why couldn’t I just get it over with? I left the gun in my lap and thumbed
through the script on top of it as a cover.
I have one shot, I thought. I might have more bullets than that, but after I made the first one, any one of Voltolini’s henchmen would shoot me too, and it would all be over. If I shot one of them, another would kill me immediately afterwards… so I couldn’t save myself no matter what I did. I’d like to kill Hurst to save my parents, but I couldn’t reach him. He was protected behind the bullet-proof glass. So I couldn’t help them either.
The only thing I could do was shoot Voltolini.
And that’s what I came here for.
Shouldn’t I just do it now, before I even go on the air? Before I say whatever abominations they’ve written up in this script? Before I betray the rebels’ cause? And Jackson?
I steeled my resolve. My heart threatened to pound out of my chest, but I reached my thumb up to unlock the safety on the pistol in my lap.
At least I’ll die a hero.
“Ready to go,” the sound technician interrupted my plan, pointing at me. “You’re on the air in three… two… one…” Then he gave me a thumbs up to let me know I was live.
I blinked at the camera, caught off guard. I knew I was supposed to smile to greet the audience, but that seemed wildly inappropriate at the moment. My eyes darted away from the camera to the teleprompter, and I read the first few lines, because I didn’t know what else to do.
“Greetings, citizens of the Republic,” I read, deadpan. “I realize that I confused a lot of you with my last broadcast. I am here today to set the record straight.”
I moved my index finger into position over the trigger. The problem was, I wouldn’t really even have time to aim. I’d basically have to swing my arm up and pull the trigger all in one motion—the second the agents saw the gun, I’d be out of time.
In between words on the teleprompter, I glanced at Voltolini, trying to imagine I had the gun trained on him already. He stared back at me with a bemused expression, maybe trying to figure out what was going on in my head.
That’s right, you bastard. I’m plotting your death.
“Here’s what really happened,” I read, and stopped short when I saw what was next. Could I really say this on the air?
I can only take one risk here, I reminded myself. I can either tell the truth and die for it, or shoot the Potentate and die for it.
Put like that—no contest.
“Terrorist Jackson MacNamera kidnapped me and brainwashed me, just as the Potentate said in his broadcast after my last one. Our glorious Potentate—” I just barely winced when I said this—“graciously rehabilitated me for a second time after that broadcast, at his own expense. But MacNamera, outraged, managed to kidnap me yet again.”
Close your non-dominant eye, I repeated to myself. Aim halfway between the target and the end of your weapon. I stared Voltolini down, at that cool little half smile on his lips. He winked back at me, like we were sharing a secret.
A noise outside tore Voltolini’s gaze away from mine. It sounded like it was coming from the grounds—distant enough that the noise might not have made it on camera. I couldn’t quite tell what the sounds were at first. It was like the sound a car makes when it approaches you and then passes by—the Doppler effect, Charlie had smugly explained to me once when we were kids. Except this time it was… I don’t know how to describe it. Bigger? And… overhead?
The planes, I thought, remembering that we had seen them in Beckenshire. But then we’d thought it might be the Potentate, spying on us.
What could it mean now?
“MacNamera held me captive for a week before I managed to tie him up in his sleep. I shot him in the chest with his own gun, and managed to escape. He is dead. I am pleased to report to you that Jackson MacNamera will never terrorize the citizens of the Republic again.”
There were shouts outside, and—gunshots? Was that an explosion? If possible, my heart beat even faster with a surge of totally irrational hope.
Three agents ran into the room in the middle of the broadcast, heedless of the sound their shoes made on the air. Voltolini gesticulated to them wildly to keep it down, but they ran straight for him, intent upon delivering their message. When they did, he went white.
Another explosion. This one the cameras picked up for sure.
We’re under siege. Is this New Estonia? Did Will manage to persuade them after all?
This was the perfect moment. Voltolini wasn’t even looking at me; he was focused on the agents. Everyone was distracted.
I’ll never have a better chance than this.
I just had one more thing I had to do—one message that I simply had to deliver. I was about to die; this would be my last chance. I looked at the camera and said, very softly, “Only the truth you know will set you free.”
If he was watching, he’d know what that meant.
I closed my non-dominant eye, estimated where the barrel of the gun would be, and aimed halfway between it and Voltolini’s temple.
And then, on the air, live to the entire Republic, I pulled out Collins’s gun.
Chapter 37: Jackson
My body felt like it was made of wood. I couldn’t move. I could barely think, as I listened to Kate describe all the terrible things I had supposedly done to her.
Brainwashing. Kidnap. Rape—she didn’t say the word, but she implied it strongly enough.
How could she? How could she do this again?
I overheard one of the agents in the front seat snarl to the other, “What kind of a bastard is he?” The other replied, “If that’s really him in the back seat, I’ll kill him with my bare hands!”
“Voltolini has our parents hostage,” Charlie whispered to me. “They’re forcing her to say all this because they’ve got them at gunpoint. I’m sure of it.”
As much as I didn’t want to think I was watching a hostage situation live, I hoped he was right. The alternative was that Kate she really thought I had done all those things to her. Maybe she’d been captured and they’d brainwashed her all over again.
As she continued her horrific list of crimes I’d supposedly committed, Charlie bumped his shoulder against mine. I guess he could see the onslaught of emotions on my face, one coming after another so fast that I could hardly identify them all. Fear—for Kate, mostly. Betrayal. Anger, too: I thought I’d left her in Friedrichsburg. I thought she was going to New Estonia with Will. I could only assume Will went without her, then. That meant either she got captured—or maybe they both did? Maybe it’s Will that Voltolini has at gunpoint?—or she went back of her own volition. If the latter, she almost certainly went by herself, yet again, with no protection.
I was furious with her for that. I felt powerless to help her now—I was heading to the palace, and that was almost certainly where she had to be. But it felt like I was infinitely far away, much too far to be of any use to her. And once I arrived, I still had to get free and find her. How dare she put me in this position, and—why is she winking at the camera?
“What’s going on in the background?” Nick whispered. “You hear all that?”
I nodded, listening intently. It sounded like explosions…
Kate went on, clearly distracted, “MacNamera held me captive for a week before I managed to tie him up in his sleep. I shot him in the chest with his own gun, and managed to escape. He is dead. I am pleased to report to you that Jackson MacNamera will never terrorize the citizens of the Republic again.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. She couldn’t possibly really believe that, could she?
“Lower the partition,” I heard one agent say, and I leaned back just in time. Half the screen slid out of view, and the agent sitting in the passenger side turned to scrutinize me.
“That can’t be him, then,” frowned the agent to his buddy.
“Sure as hell looks like him,” the driver commented, looking at me in the rearview mirror. Then he added, mostly under his breath, “Not sure I trust my eyes for an
ything anymore, though…”
“You shouldn’t trust anything you’ve ever seen before right now,” Charlie told the agents, his voice bold and commanding. “But this world? This is real!” He gestured in a circle with his head. “Don’t believe a thing she says, the Potentate is making her say all of it. He’s threatening her!”
“Our Kate? She wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t so, I don’t think that’s—” began the agent on the passenger side.
“Shh!” I hissed at them all. With the partition lowered, I saw that they had another screen in the front dash. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, locked on Kate’s expression as she paused much too long in her delivery. It looked like she was having some sort of internal wrestling match. Also, I heard something in the background, some kind of skirmish. I was trying to make out what it was.
Then Kate said, her voice almost a whisper, “Only the truth you know will set you free.”
My heart stopped. Suddenly I understood, even before I saw her wink again, her focus off camera this time.
She’s not winking. She’s aiming.
“She’s going to assassinate the Potentate!” I breathed.
Chapter 38: Jackson
The screen went blank, replaced with the Republic’s seal.
An involuntary groan escaped my lips. I’d never felt so helpless in all my life.
Fortunately, Charlie took charge.
“What you just saw was coerced,” he continued to the agents. “Voltolini has our parents in custody and he was threatening my sister that he’d kill them if she didn’t say exactly what he told her to say to make up for her first broadcast when she told everybody the truth! You saw that one, I’m sure!”
“Your… sister?” said the driver, slowly. He pointed at the screen.
“Yes. Kate is my sister,” Charlie affirmed. “Everything she said in that first broadcast was the truth, and the world you see around you right now is the real one.”