Richard Stephenson - Resistance

“We decided that I should be the one to tell you, get you ready. Are you ready?”

“Of course.”

“Dad!”

As the door opened, Richard Dupree’s tears flowed anew. He hadn’t seen his daughter since that horrible Sunday morning so many years ago. “You’re so beautiful, my sweet baby.” Richard dropped to his knees, his quivering arms outstretched. Chrissy only hesitated for one brief moment before losing herself in his crushing embrace. “Dad? I thought you were dead. Are you really my dad? Are you really here?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I’m here, and I’m never going to leave you again.”

Charles felt at home for the first time since he’d arrived in this wretched wasteland of a country. When Jackson Butler petitioned the Chinese for an assassin who could wreak a level of havoc similar to that caused by The Silent Warriors, Charles was at the top of the list.

Charles’ enormous wealth, accumulated over three decades of espionage, afforded him a very comfortable life. He wore the finest clothes and had lavish homes scattered across the globe. Unlike Simon Sterling, Charles didn’t find his identity in his clothing and riches. Charles once took an assignment that required him to live for three months as a homeless man in Berlin. It was hard for Charles to live in squalor and filth, but the assignment was an entertaining challenge that paid exceptionally well.

Charles approached the first checkpoint half a mile from Beck Estates and rolled down his window. He could tell by the soldier’s demeanor that he was accustomed to turning away ninety percent of the vehicles that approached the gate.

“I need to see some identification.”

Charles handed the man credentials carried only by top ranking officials in the Unified American Empire. Once the soldier scanned them and examined the readout, his focus and attention became razor sharp.

“Sir, welcome to Beck Estates. They’ll park your car for you at the next checkpoint; you’ll have unescorted access to the grounds.”

“Thank you, kind sir. Have a pleasant day.” Charles flashed his most charming smile, delighted when the young soldier appeared terrified by it.

Charles drove his vehicle to the next checkpoint and got out, marveling at the masterpiece before him. Howard Beck had built the most elaborate, luxurious home on the North American continent. Photographs and videos didn’t do the place justice; seeing it in person was truly breathtaking. Charles brushed the lint from his jacket, straightened his tie, and walked into the estate to begin the final phase of the plan.

***

“I can’t for the life of me understand how you can be so calm.” Being cooped up in a jail cell with the man who’d betrayed him and his country was driving Simon Sterling over the edge.

“You might think a great many things about me, Simon, but one thing I am not is unprepared.” Jackson leaned closer and whispered, “I’m right where I want to be. I planned this.”

“You’re positively insane. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”

“Again, takes one to know one. You’re the textbook sociopath. Books will be written about your failed tyranny.”

“Fuck you, Jackson.”

“Oh my! Such language, Simon. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you utter such filth.”

“You’re more than worth it.”

“You remind me of a colleague of mine. I think the two of you would get along famously. He actually dresses better than you.”

“I really don’t care. I’d rather you just stop talking. You know our conversation is pure entertainment for Howard.” Simon looked up. “Isn’t that right, Howard?”

The door to the holding area opened and the man in charge of security walked in. He typed a code into the keypad and was about to open the cell door when one of the two security guards stopped him. “Mr. Twigg? Uh, sir? I thought you said either the president or General Dupree had to be here to open the door?”

“I’m sorry, I thought I was the acting director of security…or is it you?”

“Yes, sir. I just don’t think it’s a very good idea.”

“Tell you what, big guy. You want something to do? Head to the infirmary and bring back an EMT; one of these pussies needs medical attention.”

“They didn’t say anything to me! I swear they’re both fine. I haven’t taken my eyes off them. ”

Dennis Twigg locked eyes with Jackson Butler, the intensity of his gaze encouraging the prisoner to play along. Jackson had been expecting something like this to happen; he knew someone would be coming to retrieve the tiny, embedded hard drive that housed the massive program needed to take Hal offline.

“You sick fucker! I had friends on the Freedom of the Seas ! They’re all dead because of you!”

“Hey, buddy! Just slow down. You don’t want…”

Dennis flicked open a collapsible foot-long baton. He dropped Jackson to the floor with one swing to the gut. The hit wasn’t hard, but both men gave an award-winning performance. Once Jackson was on the floor, Dennis knelt over him and punched him in the face. “You motherfucker! I should kill you!” Dennis pulled out a switchblade and mouthed the question, “Where?”

Jackson whispered. “Scar on left side of my chest.”

Dennis threw a few fake punches to Jackson’s torso as Simon stood nearby, frozen in fear. Using the switchblade as a scalpel, Dennis deftly sliced into the scar. He dug in with two fingers, retrieving the small device with just seconds to spare as a medical team entered the cell.

Howard, who’d been asleep in his quarters, was alerted to the situation by Hal. He entered the detention area in a tizzy. “Mr. Twigg! What in the holy hell are you doing? Stop that! Now!” Howard was not a fan of physical contact, even in the friendliest of forms, and subduing an attacker was unthinkable. “Stop him! Right now!” Howard yelled at the other guard.

Dennis Twigg stood up. “Don’t bother. I’m done, Mr. Beck. I’m sorry, but this piece of shit needed to know his place.”

“This is unacceptable, Dennis. Wait for me in the command center. We have serious matters to discuss.”

“Yes, Mr. President. I’m sorry.”

“And for Christ’s sake, stop calling me that! Flattery isn’t going to help you!”

“Yes, Mr. Beck, I’m sorry.”

Dennis Twigg couldn’t believe how easy this was going to be. He strode down the hall to the command center, biting back a tell-tale smirk. As if on cue, Hal opened the door. Dennis entered and scanned the room for some sort of interface for the small device he had tucked between his fingers. With only seconds to spare before Howard walked through the door, he found a small port and plugged in the device.

Dennis was terrified that Hal would immediately detect the intrusion and alert Howard, but the artificial intelligence remained silent. When he looked at the holographic displays and readouts and saw that nothing had changed, Dennis began to panic. It was too late to do anything else; he just had to hope the program would run its course.

“Mr. Twigg! What in the hell was that all about? Start talking!”

“Permission to speak freely?”

“That’s the general idea here, Mr. Twigg. You better convince me not to throw your ass topside because that’s the only thing on my mind right now.”

“Well, Mr. Beck, you of all people should appreciate what I did. Butler is far too calm and collected, given the circumstances. He has to be up to something. I just thought he could use a little attitude adjustment. I’m sorry.”

“What disturbs me most is that as the acting director of security, you deliberately disobeyed a direct order. You were fully aware that the cell door was to remain closed unless General Dupree or I was present. Are you capable of remaining in your current job? Can you follow orders or not?”