Divided We Fall

by Adam Bender

  Jon reached into his jacket and pulled out a badge. “I’d rather that you wait here for a few minutes while I make a call.”

  That’s when Bob bolted. He was a big man but got off to a quick start. Jon chased him for about a block before finally drawing a weapon and firing straight into the air. Cursing, Bob slowed up and raised his hands.

  Wyle slapped a pair of cuffs on the courier’s wrists. Then he dialed HQ and asked the Guard to send a couple officers and a car. Lowering the cell phone, Jon was surprised to see he had an unread message from Eve. He clicked it open and read:

  Thanks for last night. Hope we cross paths again soon.

  Jon felt his heart beating. He could think of nothing else until the police car pulled up to collect the package man. The whole thing took about ten minutes. Jon explained the situation to one Guard as another pushed Bob’s head into the car.

  It suddenly occurred to Jon that he should have immediately gone back to check on Roland and, more specifically, what was in the package.

  He raced back to the church and moved straight to Roland’s office. When the priest didn’t respond to knocking, Wyle kicked the door open and entered with gun drawn.

  The place was deserted. The box was on Roland’s computer desk, opened and empty.

  Jon flew out of the room. He asked a receptionist at the entrance if she had seen Roland.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t see him on your way in. He just left, but if you rush you might–”

  The Elite was outside before she could finish. Immediately he saw Roland near the street several yards from the church. He was opening the door to a taxi.

  The cab drove off just as Wyle was upon it. Gritting his teeth, the Elite raised his hand to hail his own transportation. After two passed him by, Wyle stepped in front of a red sports car and waved his badge at the driver. “Guard!” he shouted. “Step out of your vehicle!”

  The driver, a slightly balding man with a paunch belly, shook his head pleadingly. Jon wrenched opened the door and tossed the middle-aged loser out onto the asphalt. A few seconds later he was speeding after Roland’s taxi.

  A blond woman walking down the sidewalk caught Jon’s attention, and for a second he thought it might be Eve. But when she turned he saw that the woman looked nothing like her, and in fact was probably twenty years older at least.

  Jon shook his head and looked back to the road. The cab was gone.

  “Shit!” he yelled. He looked around desperately to gain his bearings and suddenly realized he was at the monorail station. Wyle parked the car in the middle of the street and got out. Ignoring the blaring horns and profanity of the other people on the street, Wyle located the taxi on the side of the road, but Roland was already gone.

  “Your passenger, the priest,” Jon screamed at the taxi driver. “Did he go in the station?”

  The taxi driver looked flabbergasted but opted not to test the Elite’s patience. “Yes, sir, he–”

  And Wyle was off again. He had just begun wading through the rush hour crowd when a gun went off. A woman next to Jon screamed and fell over. The rest of the commuters ran screaming in all directions. The clearing crowd left Paul Roland in plain sight, wielding a pistol and climbing the escalator to the Loganville train platform two steps at a time.

  The escalator screeched to a halt before Jon was halfway up the steps. The force of the stop knocked Jon back but he managed to hang on to the railing. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself to his feet and pumped his legs harder to catch up. At the top of the steps there was another bang and Jon heard a bullet whistle past his ear.

  The whole world seemed to stop. Jon could see Eve’s mysteriously alluring gaze. He was suddenly struck by the thought that he might not live to see her again.

  Another shot woke him from his momentary delirium. Wyle fell into a roll and ducked behind a heavy brown trash can. They made the things strong enough to withstand a bomb blast, so he knew he’d be safe.

  Things went dead quiet. Agent Wyle leaned over slightly to scope out his surroundings. They were parked on a narrow strip, with the rail on Jon’s left and a dirty concrete wall on his right. A black sign hanging down from the ceiling displayed 6:11 p.m. in digital yellow.

  Jon realized he had the Heretic trapped. The only way Roland could get off the platform was to make a dash back to the escalators behind Jon. There was in fact an elevator on Roland’s side, but by now the Guard should have locked it.

  Roland popped out from another armored trash can about three benches down the strip. Jon ducked back into cover just as the first shot was fired. Smiling, he pulled a kiwi-sized ball from a container in his belt, and in one quick motion lobbed it down the platform. The capsule bounced and skidded across the floor before bursting into a cloud of smoke. Taking a deep breath and holding it, Jon jumped to his feet and bolted toward the sound of choking coughs.

  Roland, teary-eyed and wheezing, fired his gun but missed by a mile. Jon was on him in an instant. The Elite kicked the weapon out of the Heretic’s hands and slammed a fist into his stomach. Lungs emptied, Roland automatically tried to suck in as much air as he could. Breathing smoke instead of oxygen, the target lost balance and fell unconscious onto the scuffed tile floor.

  Agent Wyle shackled the Heretic’s wrists and left him lying on the floor.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Jon strolled down the platform. Through the tunnel he could see a pink and orange sky.

  Maybe, Jon thought, Eve might like to join him for a walk in the city park. He picked up his mobile and dialed.

  “Hello?” said Eve.

  “It’s Jon,” he said. “I need to see you.”

  The silence on the other end made his heart leap.

  “Where?” she said finally.

  Jon clicked the phone and turned back to deal with Paul Roland. To his surprise, he saw a man in a black robe leaning over the unconscious body.

  “Who the hell are you?” Jon asked.

  The stranger straightened up and a half-smile surfaced on his face. “I’ve been sent for Roland,” he said.

  “Excuse me? Who sent you?”

  He was tan and his head was shaved bald. “This one here is a priest who has violated the rules of the Church. This one is a disgrace and he must be dealt with differently than the others. This one must come with me.”

  Jon was perplexed. “Are you with the Church?”

  The stranger’s brown eyes were empty. “I am with God.”

  Jon chuckled. “Can I see some ID?”

  Just then, the Elite’s phone rang. He picked it up and saw that it was the captain of his division.

  “Sir?” asked Jon. “I was just about to call in. There’s some wacko here who…”

  “Walk away, Agent Wyle,” the captain said. “This is bigger than you or me. Walk away now and don’t speak about this to anyone.”

  “But who–?”

  “That was an order, Agent Wyle,” his superior officer said. “When the Saints go marching in, it’s best you don’t ask any questions.”

  Jon was still thinking about the encounter as he waited for Eve by the rusted orange gates of the city park. He forgot about it the instant he saw her. As she approached, Jon pointed up at the two marble hawks perched on either side of the entrance.

  “You know why they made them so big?” Jon asked when she approached.

  “Why?”

  “Originally they ordered something smaller, but the cameras were so bulky back then that they couldn’t get them to fit. The sculptor had to start from scratch.”

  They looked together into one of the hawk’s beaks and found a reflective black disc that was the lens of the CCTV device. “Think someone’s watching us right now?” asked Eve.

  Before Jon could respond, she kissed him hard on the mouth, letting her tongue dip momentarily into his mouth. When they finally pulled apart Eve winked at the hawk and said, “That one’s for free.”

  Eve’s hand fell into his and he led her through the gate. At this hour th
ere were more people leaving than entering, but it was summer and the sun wouldn’t set for at least another hour.

  Eve peered into a dark cluster of evergreen trees. “So, aren’t you even a little worried about getting mugged?”

  “We’re Elite Guard,” Jon smirked. “I’d like to see someone try.”

  She squeezed his hand and they continued on.

  “So how was your day?” she asked. “Tell me everything.”

  He thought about telling her about the mysterious man in black, but remembering the captain’s warning, decided against it. “I nearly got myself killed making an arrest, no thanks to you,” he said instead.

  She tilted her head in question. “No thanks to me?”

  “Yeah…” He looked at her but couldn’t hold the gaze into her eyes for very long. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “You’re such a cheese ball,” she laughed, punching him lightly in the arm.

  He gasped. “I’m serious! I…I guess I just get a little corny when I’m around such beauty.”

  There was a look in her eye that briefly made him fear for his life.

  “What?” he asked nervously.

  Eve pulled him off the paved trail and led him down a small hill. Jon tugged back and she fell into his arms. After a breathless minute they disappeared into the tall grass.

  Seven woke to the staccato buzz of his brand new cell phone. Keeping his head planted firmly in the pillow he reached blindly to the side table. After many seconds his fingers located the device.

  “What is it, Danny?” he asked groggily.

  “Sorry to call so early,” Young apologized with alarm in his voice. “But I need you over here right away.”

  Seven bolted upward. “What’s wrong? Another attack?”

  Talia, draped topless over the other side of the bed, opened her eyes briefly.

  “Everything is fine,” Danny said. “But there’s…a new devel-opment. I can’t explain over the phone. Just come as soon as you can.”

  “Okay, I’ll–”

  The phone beeped.

  “–be right over.”

  Seven looked at the screen and saw that it was 5:27 a.m.

  “What is it?” Talia yawned.

  He stroked her soft black hair and whispered, “Go back to sleep.”

  Talia’s heavy eyelids fell slowly shut, and in less than a minute her breathing grew slow and measured. Carefully, Seven lifted himself from the bed.

  Eve felt a lump in her throat as the door opened.

  “Danny, you really need to do something about that elevator,” Seven grumbled as he stepped inside. “The stupid thing almost just called…”

  His eyes connected with hers.

  “…the Guard,” he finished.

  She tried to compose herself. “Hi, Seven.”

  Danny Young, standing by her side, waved his right hand as if to conjure up something appropriate to say.

  They looked at him.

  “Um,” said Danny, “surprise?”

  Eve grimaced.

  “What is she doing here?” Seven sneered. “Why didn’t you tell me on the phone?”

  Danny opened his arms helplessly. “I didn’t think you would come if I had.”

  Seven’s laugh was icy. “You’re right!”

  Eve brushed Danny aside and engaged Seven’s attention. “Look, I don’t like it either. But the president ordered me to come. I’m just here to find out who tried to kill Young.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What? You mean it wasn’t you? I guess I forgot again which side you were on.”

  Cackling, Danny pointed at Seven. “Hey, maybe you’ve got the amnesia chip back in your head!”

  Eve shot the leader of the Underground a look that she hoped conveyed deadly revulsion. She noticed Seven joining her in the expression.

  Danny held up his hands and whistled. “Well then, I’m going to let you two kids work things out. In the meantime, I’m going downstairs for some coffee. Those political whiz kids just installed a cappuccino machine. You’ve got to try it. It’s out of this world!”

  The presidential candidate began to saunter out of the room, but turned back at the last minute. “Oh, I almost forgot, we’re having a dinner kind of thing tonight for V-H Day. Turkey, champagne, the works. It would be an absolute blast if you could make it, Eve.”

  Seven stared helplessly. Finally he made out, “It’s V-H Day?”

  Eve couldn’t believe it either, but for a different reason entirely. “You…celebrate Victory Over Heretics Day?”

  “Of course!” Young shot back with an enigmatic grin. “I’ll explain at dinner. Right now I need to get my coffee on. Laters, players.”

  And like that, he was gone, leaving the ex-lovers alone to consider each other.

  “Is anyone else here?” Seven asked without any attempt to hide the hope in his voice. “Shaan, maybe?”

  Eve shook her head. “Not unless he’s hiding.”

  Seven glanced out the window.

  This, realized Eve, was going to be exactly as difficult as she expected.

  “How’s your arm?”

  “Better. A little sore sometimes.”

  The silence returned.

  “Look…Seven…what I did to you at Facility B, I–”

  “Whatever–I guess the chip had to come out of my head sometime. Sure I would have appreciated an approach that felt a little less like a stab in the back, but–”

  “I’m sorry. I really am.”

  Seven nodded.

  “Do you remember…anything?” Eve asked.

  He looked away. “Certain things. Some good, some bad. It feels…almost like I’m watching a movie, but in first person.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I did a lot of awful things,” he said. “I remember killing some people and making others wish they were dead.”

  She laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a different person now.”

  He jerked away. “Are you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her hand lowering slowly back to her side. “Prison was hard. I don’t mean the living situation, though that wasn’t exactly sunshine and lollipops, either. It was more the realization that after all the service I had done for the country, this was how they repaid me. The minute I did anything for myself–because I thought it was right–they put me on death row. Do you know how hard I worked to get where I was?”

  “I remember.”

  “Things have gone too far,” said Eve. “I still believe there’s a need for the Guard to protect and serve the people. But at some point we took a wrong turn and became more concerned with conformity than justice. Hell, they wanted to have a computer doing our jobs. A cold machine that could only understand two functions: Patriot and Heretic.” She held out her hands. “I wasn’t going to come back to the Elite Guard. I didn’t want to come back. But Randall promised me change.”

  Seven nodded as if he understood.

  “Well, if you will have me, I want to be part of that. I know it’s going to be hard, but I really hope we can put aside our past, and…and…”

  “Create a better future?”

  She had to smile. “Yeah, that’s what I was going to say. I guess I was searching for something that didn’t sound so corny.”

  He chuckled and stepped thoughtfully toward the window. “So have you already seen Young’s office?”

  Seven couldn’t help but notice the small of Eve’s back peeking under the bottom of her shirt as she bent to sift through a pile of rubble. The room was still black and covered with broken glass and other shrapnel.

  “Aha,” said Eve, lifting a piece of gun metal from the floor. “A fragment of the bomb. And I think it’s one of our ours.”

  He couldn’t say he was surprised. “Someone in the Guard did this?”

  “Or possibly someone who was in the Guard and still has access to our supplies,” she replied. “I’m going to see if I can find any more shards and then take them back to the lab to run a
few tests. We keep pretty careful track of all our weapons. With some luck we might be able to find out who last had possession of this one. You didn’t happen to get a look at the killer, did you?”

  Seven nodded. “Briefly. Tall man with a beard, wearing something like a black robe. He’s dead, but someone got to the body before we could.”

  “A robe?” she asked. “Doesn’t sound like standard-issue equipment for the Guard.”

  “No,” said Seven. And then, suddenly, everything clicked. He had seen someone like this before, in a dream. Or–more accurately–a memory.

  Eve seemed to read the realization in his face. “What is it?”

  “I remember meeting someone like him before, a long time ago, when I was still working with the Elites,” he said. “I was told not to ask any questions. He was called something I’d never heard before–a Saint, I think.”

  Eve crinkled her eyebrows. “A Saint?”

  “The one I encountered told me he worked for God. Any of this ring a bell?”

  Eve shook her head. “None of it.”

  “There’s more,” Seven said. “I’m not entirely sure, but the man in my dream–the Saint–I think he looked familiar.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Those empty brown eyes…Eve, I think it may have been your old partner.”

  She gasped. “Rodriguez?”

  He nodded. Seven saw the face of Rodriguez as clear as day.

  “I’ll see if I can find anything out,” Eve said. “If Rodriguez was working for some secret religious clan, well, it certainly would explain a few things.”

  “I’ll see if Danny’s heard of them,” said Seven, turning to the door.

  “Wait!” Eve called after him. When he turned back she was holding a diamond ring in the palm of her hand.

  The memories flooded back. Seven remembered the way Eve’s cheeks glowed when she slipped it on her finger for the first time.

  “I cried when they took this from me in prison,” she said. “But when I got it back, I couldn’t bring myself to wear it. I guess I realized it didn’t belong to me anymore. Not really.”

  She opened Seven’s palm and closed his fingers over the ring. “I think you should have it back. One day…one day you’ll fall in love again.”