Freedom Flags were being ripped down and burned.
And Old Glory.
Old Glory was everywhere once again.
No one would ever look upon her colors the same.
The meaning was unchanged and yet, somehow, brand new.
Revolution held his head up high.
As he marched through the hellish nightmare that had once been the Capitol city, the people began to emerge, despite the devastation.
When they saw him they began to cheer.
And when it was time to help another injured soul—citizen, Minuteman, or Council Guardsman alike—those bystanders came forward to help him.
Justice was falling upon the nation. But in D.C. it was about salvation.
They had faced a common threat and survived.
Once he reached the Mall, he began to sprint. As he passed the Ellipse, he strained to see through the smoke to his left. Though every building on the Mall was demolished, standing through the smoke he saw it.
The White House still stood.
He ran further. Everything smashed and burning. All the museums, the monuments, the institutes, the priceless history of the country, damaged or destroyed.
But when he reached the Capitol Reflecting Pool, he saw the great dome begin to emerge from the haze like a ship through the fog.
The Capitol Building, charred, cracked, and crumbling, still stood majestically upon the hill.
That’s when he saw them.
All congregated at the base of the Capitol’s steps.
Ward, Rachel, Lantern, Reynolds, Scarlett, and, sprawled across the cracked walkway, Spectral.
Standing only a few yards away were the three surviving “Fionettes” known as the Luma.
Ward waved to him first. “Everyone’s accounted for,” he said over the com. “But the Doctor, Von Cyprus, and the Aztech have escaped.”
“I know.” Revolution waited until he was in earshot. He glared at the burning ruins around them. “Something tells me we’re going to have a lot of help finding them.”
Lantern grinned. He knew something the others didn’t.
Below the smoking ruins, history was being made.
Meeting in a special, unprecedented session in a secret location, the Supreme Court had declared the Freedom Council unconstitutional.
The Congress, while in hiding, had passed an act to the same effect.
President Mitchell signed it with Leslie and five hundred cell phone videos recording it for posterity.
Lantern broadcasted that video to the Common Sense servers, too.
The Freedom Council was officially no more.
CHAPTER 67
FIVE DAYS LATER
THE WHITE HOUSE
The White House Press Room was crowded with the presidential press corps, members of the Secret Service, a few Congressional leaders, and all the members of the Suns of Liberty. The official members, anyway. Scarlett was back home in Morristown, along with Spectral, who was still healing from his wounds—a process Lantern had reported was proceeding much faster than expected.
All five were planted along the back wall. As far away from the podium, the lights, and the cameras as possible.
It had been a long week.
Of course, they were still going to be the main object of attention until the president and Leslie arrived.
Revolution kept his eyes open for any threat. He’d admitted to Ward he still did not feel completely comfortable out in the open. Ward was in uniform, wings folded behind him, helmet at his side since everyone knew who he was anyway.
Rachel stayed visible and had thankfully dressed business casual, wearing the old black invisibility cloak instead of the revealing new suit she was so fond of.
Lantern was in his usual attire, bulky helmet and all. Ward wondered if he would ever decide just to be Diego Alvarez again, now that no one was trying to hunt him down and kill him.
Leslie had insisted on them being there. She had kept the nature of the announcement that President Mitchell was going to make a secret even to them. But she had assured them they would not want to miss it.
She had been a scarce commodity to the Suns in the last few days, having been making the rounds on every political talk show on the Internet. By all accounts she had emerged as a voice of reason and reconciliation after the violence of D.C. Her popularity had skyrocketed in public opinion polls, many of which international watchdog groups were once again vouching for—the first such occurrence in ten years.
She was the most popular political figure in the country.
As they waited, a large holographic video monitor hovering on the side of the room played out the ongoing coverage of the formal fall of the Freedom Council. The Senate was in Emergency Session addressing all of the changes that would need to be made in the aftermath of the Council’s collapse.
The other story dominating the airwaves was just as riveting: the unknown whereabouts of the Aztech, Kiernan Rage, and Eric Von Cyprus. A massive manhunt was now on.
Both Howke and Sage had agreed to assist in the hunt, and as of now, they seemed to be escaping much of blame for the events of the last several weeks—though charges of some sort were awaiting them in the near future.
All of the Council’s member companies had resigned, of course. Even the final holdout, General Defense, had done so once the late Tarleton had been formally replaced as CEO.
Despite the work that still needed to be done, the bodies to be counted, the secrets to still be uncovered, the Suns were in a good mood.
“You know what the worst part about Tarleton was?” Rachel asked impishly, shaking her head at the coverage of the search. Without waiting for a reply she answered. “He must have had a needle-sized dick, all the compensating he was doing.”
“Speaking of compensating,” Reynolds said, “how about we reconvene this party at my place after all this is over? I could use some liquid compensation. Know what I mean?”
Rachel and he snuck a quick fist-bump behind Ward’s back and out of the view of the cameras.
Ward winced. “No offense, but I’ve had about enough of the HQ.”
“Not my barracks, dude. My house. I got an Olympic-sized swimming pool. Indoors.”
Rachel’s eyes went wide, and in a sing-songy voice she said, “Skinny dipping time,” leering playfully at Ward.
Reynolds chuckled and shook his head. “Girl, you could set women’s progress back a half century all by yourself, huh? Besides, I have kids.”
“Bikini time,” Rachel sang in the same voice.
“How ‘bout you, Lantern? You in?” Ward asked.
Lantern jumped at the sound of his name. “Sorry?”
He was always busy inside that helmet of his. Did the guy ever take a break?
“Paul here was asking if you’re wearing your see-through Speedos at Reynolds’s pool party?” Rachel asked, batting her eyes.
Silence.
Finally, Lantern nodded toward Reynolds. “He has kids.”
Ward shrugged. “That was sort of a joke...”
Revolution’s eyes pulled away from the holographic screen as a buzz rolled across the crowd and every head turned toward the ivory-colored doors at the front of the room.
Out stepped the President of the United States with Leslie Gibbons at his side. Flash bulbs exploded as everyone looked upon the two together, matching one another stride for stride.
The president emerged with deep lines across his forehead, dark wells of fatigue around his eyes. Yet his body language read: resolute. A thin but warm smile adorned his face.
Leslie was beaming at his side, looking as elegant and confident as ever. As if the last ten years, and all the sacrifices, had never occurred.
The president spoke immediately upon reaching the podium.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said as the shutters sang in chorus.
“I don’t have to tell you that in the last few days our great nation has gone through one of the most trying times since the birt
h of our Republic. We have seen events both extraordinary and terrible. Extraordinary in their scope of change. Terrible in the cost of blood and treasure.”
The president peered out at the cameras, making it clear he wasn’t actually speaking to the reporters and dignitaries in the room, but instead to the American people. Revolution wondered why he wasn’t making his statement from the Oval Office if that was his intent.
“I want to be clear, the legislation known as the Freedom Act, which authorized the Freedom Council, is no longer in effect. As of today, we formally acknowledge what has been true for some time now, that the American republic has returned to what our founders originally envisioned. A democracy.” Camera shutters exploded on that line, and the president took a moment to let it pass.
“No one has done more or sacrificed more, or inspired us more to rekindle that democracy, than the warriors assembled behind you, or the woman who stands at my right.”
Leslie remained stoic as every lens in the room turned to the room’s rear and then once again swung back to her on the president’s words.
This time Mitchell did not skip a beat. “As you know, one of the horrific events that has led to our current situation was the assassination of the vice president. I am here to announce today that I am appointing Dr. Leslie Gibbons as the Vice President of the United States.”
The room erupted in murmurs, flashbulbs, and clicking shutters. Over the buzz, Mitchell continued. “I would like to further announce that the Senate, in its Emergency Session, has already confirmed Dr. Gibbons.”
He beamed at Leslie. “Or, excuse me, Vice President Gibbons.”
Mitchell turned to her and extended his hand, still in range of the microphone. “Congratulations Madame Vice President.”
Ward was dumbstruck. “Anybody see that coming?” he whispered.
Revolution just shook his head.
But the president’s body language said he was not finished yet. He stood at the podium and lowered his head in thought.
The room fell silent.
Finally, he stared back into the cameras, and in a resolute voice he said, “Earlier I mentioned our Republic. But for ten years we have not had a Republic. We have had something else, something that at times came too close to tyranny.”
Rachel smirked, whispering to Ward, “Is it wrong that this is making me horny?”
Ward just shook his head. “You’ve got serious issues, Dodge. As your doctor, I’m going to have to give you a full examination.”
“Will it be an oral exam?” she asked.
Revolution turned and stared at them.
Uh-oh.
The president continued. “We have Vice President Gibbons and the millions of Americans who answered the call of resistance to thank for giving us back our Republic. But it is not enough to celebrate the heroic efforts of those who fought for justice when the fight was not easy. Those who did nothing while tyranny reigned must also be held to account. And that includes me.”
The president glared right into the camera, his lips quivering for the first time since he began to speak. “So, effective immediately, I am resigning from my office as your president, making Leslie Gibbons the next President of the United States.”
CHAPTER 68
ONE WEEK LATER
TRENTON, NEW JERSEY
FORMER COUNCIL RESEARCH FACILITY
Eric Von Cyprus could hear the sirens in the distance.
Time was short.
The room was dark, save the lights from the many computer monitors.
Seated in the rolling office chair, he spun across the bevy of monitors lined up and down the wall in front of him, punching ENTER on the keyboards, downloading his data onto the old-school flash drives he had plugged into each of them.
He’d hid the data so well investigators had assumed he wiped it all.
Not yet.
But he was out of time. The FBI were scheduled to rip all of this up and take it back to Washington with them in the morning.
So, he’d come out of hiding. Used his secret alarm overrides to get back into the building.
The alarm had triggered anyway. Damn upgrades.
He had mere minutes.
“C’mon, c’mon!” he hissed as the sirens wailed louder, closer. They were all descending on him.
He wasn’t going down without a fight. And he wasn’t leaving his research for anyone to find.
The download completed.
He hunkered over the last keyboard in the long row and typed the word EXECUTE.
Instantly, the virus went to work.
He watched as years of his data disappeared forever.
It only existed now in his mind and on his flash drives.
A voice made him shout in fright.
“Dr. Von Cyprus? Eric Von Cyprus?”
Von Cyprus spun to see a disheveled-looking middle-aged man with a slight paunch emerging from the shadows behind him. The man hadn’t shaved in days. From the smell of him, he hadn’t bathed either. He wasn’t a security guard, or FBI, or anyone with authority, so he wasn’t a threat to the scientist. Although he was a witness. “Who wants to know?”
“I thought so. I’ve been waiting for you. You wouldn’t believe what it took for me to get here.”
The scientist was irritated at the intrusion. Now he would probably have to kill this janitor, or whatever he was.
If he’d had a weapon Von Cyprus would have shot the surly man right then.
The fewer witnesses the better.
But he was running out of time.
Von Cyprus hoped he could scare him away. “You’re not authorized to be in here right now. Get out or I’ll call security.”
The man grinned and motioned behind him to the growing wail of the sirens. “Sounds like security’s already on their way.”
“I’ve got things to do.”
“Yes, you do,” the man said ominously.
Von Cyprus didn’t like the man’s tone. Panic was starting to set in. The sirens were close.
Stick to your plan, he thought.
He snatched up all the flash drives and slipped them in his brown leather satchel.
“Name’s Timbeck. Watson Timbeck. I used to work for the Boston PD.”
“Fascinating,” Von Cyprus sneered. Working-class slob. His least favorite kind of vermin.
“I have something you want,” the man said confidently.
“Oh, really?” Not really, I’m sure.
Timbeck fished something out of his pocket. It was a medical container. A cylinder. “Don’t worry about those boys in blue, I’ve got some connections with them. I can stall ‘em for a while.” When he turned the lid, steam billowed out of the top. “But you gotta take me with you. I want in.”
Von Cyprus froze and eyed Timbeck closely. “In on what?”
“You’ll see.”
“What could you possibly have that I want?”
“The answer to the question everyone wants to know.”
Timbeck lifted a dark-red object out of the container. It was a vile.
Timbeck sneered. “The Revolution’s blood.”
LANDOVER, MARYLAND
AI HUB 3 SITE
The duo stood on the lip of the perfectly round crater. Fiona’s impact crater. Revolution and President Leslie Gibbons stood side by side.
Teams of security agents surrounded them.
Jetfighters screamed across the sky above them.
When first responders had initially arrived at the site days before, they were shocked to find it was the location of the AI hub. But what was more shocking was the state of the AI hub.
It was gone. Not destroyed. Gone.
If fact, in place of the three tanks that had concealed the hub was just a dry, smoking pit of dirt, as if God himself had reached down and scooped them up with a giant red-hot spoon.
And there was no sign of Fiona.
The grass lining the pit was distorted, elongated. Like some force had grabbed it and pulled it past its limi
ts without breaking.
The radius of the stretched earth spread out about ten feet from the crater in a perfect circle.
Revolution shook his head. “A portal, is that even possible? How does a wormhole open up and then just close?”
President Leslie Gibbons pursed her lips, gazed down at the small radiation monitor in her hands. “Dark energy, antimatter, bioluminescence? Three exotic substances we know very little about. Combine them, who the hell knows?”
“So, you think it was a portal, what Ward and I saw. You think she could have survived?”
“Without more evidence, I can’t say what you saw, or make any valid hypothesis about her condition—”.
Revolution cut her off. She might be the president now, but she was still Leslie, and this was Fiona they were talking about. “You know that I know what you’re saying. I understand the science, you know that. I’m asking you, as a parent, do you think she survived?”
Leslie took a deep breath and gazed down at the monitor.
“If it was a wormhole, we would get at least some flicker of energy on these readings. The amount of negative energy buildup required to open a bridge...we would see some kind of trace effects. And that’s assuming the trip itself wouldn’t kill her.” The gauge still read nothing. “No, I’m sorry.”
Revolution lowered his head. He curled his cape around him. They stood there in silence for several moments, running over their memories of the young girl they had practically raised.
Finally, he nodded. Without another word, he turned and strolled back to the waiting van.
Leslie watched as it pulled away from the field and rumbled down the long, dusty road.
She was alone now with her security team. Jetfighters still screamed in the air high above. Everywhere she went was like a full-scale military operation. They were taking no chances with her safety.
The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic Page 44