Floor 21- Dark Angel

by Jason Luthor

  “I guess death has a way of putting everything into focus. It kind of makes you consider what you think’s important and why.”

  “For me and Mandy, it was definitely faith. When we go to the church, I can almost hear my father singing again.” Cynthia’s hand rests on her chest. “Excuse me. It’s almost as if he’s here right now.”

  “I had a relationship like that with my dad. And my mom, but me and my dad were closer, I think.”

  “I found my love for medicine from my father. Did you pick up anything like that from yours?”

  I flash her a smile while I’m eating. “Both of them, actually. They were scientists, and I always wanted to be one too.”

  “Everyone says how smart you are.”

  “Yeah, everyone says I’m smart, but they really need me more for these,” I tell her with a look at my fists.

  “They need you for what’s inside of you, Jackie. It doesn’t matter to them whether you’re there for them as a scientist or a fighter.”

  “Sure, they just really need me more as a fighter.”

  Cynthia smiles from behind her glass. “They need me more as help at the school sometimes, but that doesn’t make me only a school assistant.”

  “I guess that’s true.” I scratch my head. “So how do I get back on track with them, Cynthia? I miss Mike and Tommy so much.”

  “The answer’s always the same, Jackie. You talk to them.”

  I lean back in the booth and stare up at the ceiling. “Great. The one thing I’m most terrible at.”

  “You were pretty good tonight.” I’m busy looking away into nothing when I feel her hand wrap around mine and give it a squeeze. When I look down at her, she just gives it a good shake. “Yasmine and Patel were here for Jackie. Not the Dark Angel.”

  There’s a long moment when I’m staring at her from across the table before I say anything else. “You know, when I first came to Central, it was for my friends. I needed to save Tommy, Dodger, Mike . . . Then I started hanging around the city more. When you get away from the skyscrapers and towers, you see these buildings that are hundreds of years old. Some of them are almost a thousand years old. The library Central Primary’s built out of. The cathedrals around town. The statues in the Green Zone. And then, after a while, I started to appreciate the people more. That day, when I dropped in at the medical depot after Mike got his face cracked, I was really invested in helping you guys, but also all the people around you. At some point, I think I really started loving this city and the idea of living here. So, now I’ve got to do my part and make sure the city’s safe. From Fort Silence, from raiders, from the Creep . . . I don’t care where the threat’s from, I’ve got to settle on something I want to protect. That’s Central and the people living here. So, I’ve got to make some decisions here soon about what to do about Yousef, Mikey and everything. I’ve got to make those decisions before things get out of control.”

  Personal Recording of the President, Gabriel Branagh 21

  I take a drink from my glass as I stare at Martin on the other side. “Bourbon here. What’d you bring?”

  “Whisky,” he says with a smile as he puts the bottle on the table. “Seemed like one of those nights when I felt like thinking that I had all the answers.”

  “I know the feeling. I wish I had them all the time.” He pours a drink into the glass in front of him and takes a quick drink before settling back into his chair, his hands folding into his noticeably smaller gut as he crosses a leg. I lift a glass to him and point to his stomach. “Good job, colonel. I see you’ve dropped some weight.”

  “Well, starting with the Battle for Central Freedom, I figured it would be best if I got into a more combat ready shape. Not all of us want to end up like General McCullum.”

  “That man never met a meal he didn’t like.”

  “All power to him. Man did his duty and served since at Dravic first became president. That’s a hell of a long time to be in the service.”

  “It’s just a shame he never really learned what it means to serve.”

  Martin shakes his head and shrugs before taking another drink. “Have you watched anything on the news lately?”

  “Are you kidding me? The Advisory Council won’t let me miss it. After the raider invasion, it was either one of two headlines. ‘First Invasion in the History of Central,’ news at eleven. Or, if they were more focused on Jackie, ‘Mysterious Savior Swoops to Central.’ At least that one made us look good.”

  “Well, the latest news feed I caught said ‘Historic Structure Stripped Under Branagh’s Watch.’ Real flattering piece.”

  “Central had gone untouched for a thousand years until Yousef blew the roof off of it.”

  “Still, it’d be nice if they’d go easy once in a while. It’s not like we have anything to distract the people with but the same movies we’ve been rebroadcasting for centuries.”

  That gets a chuckle out of me. “Why couldn’t we have gotten the old Yousef? The one who liked theatre and performance? Maybe we could have gotten our own theatre productions going, gotten some original stories out there on the vid feeds.”

  “A different reality, Mr. President.”

  “I know. I know. Still, it’s something we should look into doing, once this is all settled. It’d at least give the people something to distract themselves with.”

  “It’d be a lot better than accidentally having them pick up on those broadcasts the Tank’s been broadcasting all around the Deadlands.”

  That makes me grab for my glass and take a long drink. “You’ve heard them, have you?”

  “Kind of hard to miss when she’s blaming all of our problems on being an alliance with Central, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that she leaves out the fact that she was the one who broke the alliance.”

  “All villains think they’re the heroes of their own stories. Well, most. Some are just crazy. She was right about one thing, though.”

  He looks at me from above his glass. “And what’s that?”

  “One of her recent broadcasts, she talked about our alliance with Fort Silence basically isolating a lot of the clans out there. Maybe we were never aggressive toward them, but just by siding with Yousef, we’ve made even more enemies than we might otherwise have had.”

  “We tried the diplomatic route, remember? Erin Donoghue lit a powder keg and blew that up. That is, of course, unless we want to pretend that he didn’t drive straight up to the doors of Central.”

  “No, no. You’re right about that. Still, I can’t help but wonder if we could have done more. The Tank’s not the only major player out there. Maybe she’s got them united, but she still depends on other people to get things done for her. There’s a whole group of nomadic raiders who make their home across the river. What’s their leader’s name . . .”

  “You’re talking about the clans stretching west from Lake Hopatcong.”

  “That’s right.”

  “The Bethel Army. Leader’s Ashanti Bonsu.”

  “There we go.”

  “That’s more than a dozen clans, all with their own leaders, and each of those leaders has pledged their loyalty to Bonsu, who I assume has pledged her loyalty to the Tank. Even if she hadn’t, I don’t see how we’d ever manage an alliance with them. They maintain a few permanent outposts, but those clans are constantly on the move, always looking for new parts of the Deadlands to scavenge.”

  “But not raid.”

  “Not most of them, no.”

  “We call them raiders, but not all of them actually are. That’s where I keep thinking . . . maybe, just maybe, more of them are like Neddy than they are like Erin Donoghue.”

  “That’s a big maybe, sir.”

  “And even if we couldn’t make it work with Bonsu, there have to be others. Maybe even Neddy’s son himself, Ned Jr.”

  “Word is he hates Fort Silence with a passion, so any chance we had at that, well, that’s a bridge we’ve burned.”

  “I’m just saying. Imagine if the
Advisory Council had been more willing to explore diplomatic options out in the Deadlands instead of being so insistent on trying to ally with Fort Silence.”

  Martin leans back, nodding as he finishes off his first glance. “I do know Neddy’s got one of the largest armies out there.”

  “Right, and all our intel says he’s got his father’s honor. As far as we know, his forces have never attacked Central. Erin’s Army? Yes. Pearson’s Wild Forest armies? Sure. Plus, there’s all the fighting we’ve done with the Tank herself. Then you’ve got people like Neddy though, people who think there could be peace without having to go to war. I can’t help wondering what he thinks about all of this, if he ever wonders about his father’s legacy. Ned Sr. spent more than a decade of his life trying to broker a peace between the clans out there and the people here in Central. The least we could have done would have been to reach out to his son when things started going south between us and the raiders.”

  “But we didn’t.”

  “But we didn’t,” I agree with a drink of my whisky. “And now we’re in the arms of the Golden Jackal. Are you entirely comfortable with that?”

  “At first, I was. It was hard not to be after seeing all that military hardware he has stored away.”

  “And now?”

  Martin chuckles. “After the incident at the medical depot and seeing the man blow a part of the roof off of Primary? Yeah, I’d say I have my doubts about him.”

  Mike’s Recording 18

  I’m busy packing the last of Mandy’s bags when Cynthia comes through the door. Second she does, I see her walking down the hall, to where I’m standing in Mandy’s bedroom. “Hey, babe,” I say as I slide the suitcase onto the floor. “Mandy’s stuff’s all packed.”

  “You didn’t have to do that, Michael,” she says as she wraps an arm around me and kisses my cheek. “But I appreciate it.”

  “Got your stuff ready to go?”

  “Yes, but we’re not leaving tonight. It’s not for another few days.”

  “Know that. Just wanted to make sure you’d be able to take off when you needed to.”

  “It’s all taken care of.”

  I nod past her, to the door in the hallway. “Mandy’s at a friend’s. Said you were hanging out with some people?”

  “People you know,” she says as she takes a seat on the bed. “Dodger, Patel, Yazzie . . . and Jackie.”

  I can’t help but suck in a deep breath when she says it. “That’s good though. She needs it. Is she doing alright?”

  “She is, although you could ask her yourself.”

  “I will. Soon as we get you clear of Central. That’s sort of got to be my focus for right now.”

  “One thing at a time. I do get it.”

  “What’s the plan for you leaving anyway? Heard there was a group heading out. Is that going to keep you safe?”

  “Yes, it’s a dozen or more of us heading to Second Freedom. Michael, it’s not as if we’re going into the Deadlands without you. It will be fine.”

  “I know, I know,” I tell her as I take a seat on the bed. “Just double checking to make sure everything’s looking good.”

  “It is. Sooner than later, all of us will be together, out there.”

  “Won’t be easy going back to life in the Deadlands.”

  “It won’t be, but it will be our life. It will be a life me and Mandy have never had before, one with you as part of our family.”

  “Yeah. One big, happy family.” I smile as I squeeze her hand. “It’s going to be great. I can run street patrols. You can clean up any wounds I get. I’ll make breakfast and you can make dinner.”

  “Sounds like a perfectly normal day for a normal family.”

  Makes me laugh to hear that. “Sure. Families have always had to be on the watch for the Creep.”

  Jackie’s Recording 14

  It’s a couple of days later when I make my way through freezing winds and a rare blue tinted sky to Central Primary. For one more conversation with Yousef Suliman. When I get to his office, he’s got his back to me, his eyes looking out of the window at his desk and staring down into the streets outside the garrison walls. “I’m surprised you’re here.”

  “I’m not here to fight, Yousef. I just want to talk one last time to see if we can get on the same page. I don’t want this to go any further off the deep end.”

  “The deep end.” He turns a little, smiling at me over his shoulder. “What is the ‘deep end,’ Jackie?”

  “The fighting, and I’m not just talking about between us. Since Fort Silence and Central made their alliance, the Advisory Council and the War Council have been taking advantage of having your soldiers to back them up, people have been spied on, monitored . . . We had the incident at the medical depot, and look, I don’t think it’s crazy for me to say that I’ve just got concerns.”

  “You and everyone else in this city,” he says as he turns completely to look at me, the olive green of his dress uniform hugging the muscle covering his body. “What have I done wrong this time?”

  “I heard you almost lost it in a meeting with the Advisory Council?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You don’t know that you almost fired off that golden hand of yours during the meeting?”

  Yousef sighs as he brings his arm out from behind his back, his golden fingers flexing in the air. “It’s just an automatic reaction. It’s not that different from you, when your eyes flare red when you’re angry.”

  “I don’t shoot lasers out of my eyes that can wipe out a room of people.”

  “I didn’t do anything to them. I just lost my temper because of a . . . particularly grating councilwoman.”

  “And you can promise that you won’t ever lose your cool so much that you hurt them?”

  “I don’t take actions out of anger. When I’m violent, it’s only after I’ve coolly planned for that violence. The ability for humans to think out their actions is one of our great gifts, after all.”

  “I’m still not sure how comforting that statement is.”

  “I know. It’s the only statement I have for you right now.”

  “There’s another thing.”

  “Of course there is.”

  I shake my head as I stare him down. “Why are your troops so scared of you?”

  “Again, I couldn’t possibly guess what you mean.”

  “That day at the medical depot, one of your soldiers sounded terrified that you’d discipline them. What’s all that about, Yousef?”

  “This is a military operation, Jackie. Insubordination carries with it the threat of being disciplined. Rules exist for a reason. If discipline breaks down, then people die in the Deadlands.”

  “And those soldiers from the depot? What happened to them?”

  He sighs as he looks away for a second, his eyes burning into the ground before he stares up at me. “They took orders from someone who was not authorized to give them. What was I supposed to do?”

  I can feel my hands balling up into fists. “Yousef, I swear, if you hurt them . . .”

  “I didn’t kill them, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he spits back. “I don’t have the vast numbers of men and women available to me that Central does. I can’t afford to just kill off my people.”

  “But you ‘disciplined’ them. What does that mean?”

  “Physical force was used, but nothing that they haven’t encountered before during their training. And of course, there is the jail time they will undergo. It will be brief, but it’s necessary.”

  “Yousef, what the hell?”

  “If you’d really cared about them, then you wouldn’t have told them to break their orders.”

  “I was trying to defuse a situation that was about to get really ugly, really fast,” I tell him, avoiding the detail that Mike looked like he was about to tear a city block apart. “Was I supposed to just let things get violent?”

  “You could have contacted me. You have a direct line to me. Y
ou’ve always had it, since the first night we spent together at Fort Silence. You’ve never taken it. You didn’t reach out to me that day the depot. Instead, you chose to play hero. You wanted to be the Angel instead of working within the chain of command.”

  I rub at my head as I’m staring at him. “Yousef, why is it so difficult for you to just get the concept of being a little more merciful for once in your life. Why does everything have to be about discipline and rules and never about just being decent to people? Is it really that hard for you to ease up once in a while?”

  “Easing up gets you killed. You know that.”

  I take a breath. “This is about your sister then.”

  Yousef looks away again, this time staring back at the window for a second. “Everything is about my sister. Always.”

  “You can’t let her death twist you up for your whole life.”

  “It didn’t twist me up. I let her death inspire me to protect my people. No, not just my people. All of humanity. That’s what all this is about.”

  “I swear, I don’t know half the time if you’re a villain in disguise or actually a decent person.”

  “’One man in his time plays many parts.’”

  “Another quote?”

  His eyes go to the bookshelf on the wall, where rows of books containing plays are inserted onto the shelves. “They’ve been with me since I was a child. The only thing that survived my childhood. Everything else was put to death.”

  “Yousef. You’re going to try, right? Try and be the person the city needs you to be?”

  He looks back at me again. “And if, after all this talking and debating, we believe the city needs different things?”