11 January 2016

The Defense #1 - "Death After Life"

The Defense #1 - "Death After Life"

This must be done. The thought resonated repeatedly in his head as he literally punched his fist through a security guards' chest. The present is the past. He grabbed another guard by the face and slammed him into the linoleum floor. The future is now! As blood began to trickle out of the downed guard's ear, he slammed his elbow into another guard who tried to attack from behind. The blow was enough to force his nose bone into his brain. Before he could even blink, he brought both fists down on another undermanned guard. The crunching of his spine would've made even the Grim Reaper wince.

The first wave of guards had all been decimated. New guards came into their place, this time wielding guns. A flurry of bullets rang throughout the halls where Presidents dwell. He didn't even have time to think as he started rolling, leaping, ducking and dodging. Thick clouds of smoke formed, impairing everyone's vision. Except his. Suddenly bullets were flying the other direction toward the guards. The shells ripped through bulletproof vests and other various parts of riot gear. The guards were dead or dying as he walked by.

He concealed his automatic weapon and continued on. The doors of the Oval Office came into view and it seemed any other opposition had run in fear. He stopped at the door and raised his fist to open it. He paused and brought his hand to his forehead.




Inside the Oval Office, six figures awaited their attackers next move. Three were armed Secret Service agents, those who were chosen to stay with the President. The other three people were better known as the First Family. President Brown sat nervously behind his desk. His wife Vanessa sat next to a window, tapping her nails. Violet, the couple's twelve year old daughter stared off into space as the music blared in her headphones.

"Maybe he just wants to talk," President Brown said again, trying to smile.

"Don't be an idiot Harold!" Vanessa yelled as she leapt up from her chair. "It's your fault! I told you to leave them alone! Instead you choose to attack them in your campaign!" She threw a pillow at him, watching it bounce harmlessly off of his head. "Mother was right!" She pulled out her cigarettes and turned her back to him.

"Vanessa! Put those down! Now is not the time for smoking or arguing," He looked at his agents. "What are our chances?"

The one closest to the door adjusted his earpiece. "I'm not sure sir," he responded. "But my men and I promise that we'll do everything in our power to save your life."

"How reassuring!" Vanessa said sarcastically.

Then all three agents took off their sunglasses and began rubbing their foreheads. They all lowered their heads then raised them again suddenly. Their eyes lost all life and they crumpled to the floor.

"Oh my god…" Vanessa said as the doors shattered. He walked in, surveying the room for any other foes. Satisfied, he approached Violet, who finally looked up from her CD Walkman.

"You and your mother may leave. I do not wish you to see what is to follow. And I'm sorry for what I must do," he said as he helped the girl up from her chair. He even smiled. Dressed in a red shirt and blue jeans, he hardly looked the imposing figure that had stormed into the White House fifteen minutes ago.

Violet lowered her headphones and smiled back. "The jackass is cheating on mom anyway." She went to her very shaken mother, took her hand and led her out of the office. The two were met by a SWAT team a few corridors down.

"Mrs. Brown, you were able to escape with your daughter! What about the President?" the first man asked.

"What must be done, will be done," she mumbled.




Shawn Williams looked hard at President Brown. Brown fell to his knees and crawled around the desk.

"Please don't kill me!" he pleaded as he clasped both hands together. "I'm sure we can work this out. We can all live peacefully!"

Shawn looked down at the groveling man. "It's too late to reconcile. You've overstepped your bounds."

"No, I can change! I can change!" The short and stout man began to cry.

"This isn't a Christmas Carol President," Shawn responded. "Or should I say…former!' He swung out with his left arm toward the hunched over commander-in-chief.

Harold Brown looked up at the last second. His last thought was of his sister-in-law who he had last been with two hours ago, atop this very desk.




Shawn wiped off his fist with a handkerchief. He placed the material back in his pocket and started to leave the office the way he came when he stopped. At his feet lay the President's money clip, apparently pulled out to bargain with him. Shawn picked up the wad of bills and pocketed them, then continued out of the house. SWAT was lined up around the outside of the office, watching. Shawn tilted his fitted hat on his head and started walking. SWAT invaded the office and gathered around the body of their fallen leader. Williams just pulled out a Snickers and took a generous bite.

"Holla at me," he said as he walked out the front door of the White House.




A short while later, Shawn parked his black Honda Accord in front of a small apartment building in Clinton, MD. He stepped out, taking time to dust off the crumbs off from his stop at Burger King. After making sure his doors were locked he entered the longer building next to the apartments and opened the door next to the garage door. He flicked on the switch located behind a large cabinet, and the light revealed the plush space of an abandoned warehouse. Containing wall-to-wall carpeting, running water, and rooms located just far enough apart to ensure privacy, these accommodations would suit anyone.

Shawn tossed his keys on the table and pulled off his hooded sweatshirt. "Damn, Andre what's the heat on in here?"

"Only on 65 playa," Andre Stewart responded through the intercom system that is wired throughout the warehouse. "How did things go?"

"As well as possible. I killed a bunch of the security and a chunk of the secret service," Shawn sighed as he slumped into the couch with his hat over his eyes. Andre emerged from the wall behind the TV. "Only left the daughter and wife."

Andre nodded and sat down on the seat to the right of the TV. He flipped through the channels, finally deciding on the Simpsons. "Then what's the next move Shawn?" he asked, not even diverting his eyes from the TV.

Shawn brought his lighter to his Black & Mild cigar. "We wait."




Two days later.

Vice President Plank, Congresswoman Coates and Congressman Vaughn stood around the desk in the remains of the Oval Office.

"The media has been relentless," Steve Plank said as he blew his nose. "We cannot tell them the truth!"

Coates folded her arms and looked at Plank sideways. "We know who did this, why can't we just give them the name?"

"Because woman," Vaughn said in a Jamaican accent. "They'll trace him right back to the government. Someone always does no matter how well we cover our asses."

Coates looked at Vaughn, who had a big smile across his face. "You know what?" She raised her middle finger. "Fuck you."

"He's right Amanda," Plank noted as he massaged his temples. "Revealing Williams would be a lot more trouble than it's worth."

"Fine," Amanda said as she began to sway away. "Turn up the heat then. The public wants the President's assassin in Times Square for execution. I suggest we give the people what they want." She headed out the door.

"She's right," Steve said as he put a loose pen back in its holder. "We need Williams' head now. Up the ante Dwayne."

"But…" Vaughn started to protest.

"Shut up. I didn't hear anything intelligent come out of your mouth." He walked out of the crime scene, leaving Vaughn standing in the President's chalk outline, fuming.




The two sat quietly on the sofa, each inhaling and exhaling marijuana smoke at random times. They had been like this for ten minutes.

"What's this really going to do Shawn?" she finally asked. The question had been burning ever since he told her his plans a few days ago. "You killed the President but they can't come after you. So what?"

"You don't understand Ashley," Shawn muttered as he tried to hold the smoke in his lungs. "This is huge. I killed this "great" nation's leader. The leader of the free world! Change is gonna come baby doll." Satisfied, he exhaled.

"Shawn," Ashley began as she bowed her head. "You ever wonder about your purpose? I mean the real reason we're all here? Sure you have these great powers and you can kill whomever you want. But maybe that's not what you're supposed to do. Maybe there's a bigger picture. Maybe…" she added as she took his hand. "Maybe we can pull this off without so much grief."

Shawn thought for a minute as he inhaled again. "Why you stop smoking?" he asked.

"Dammit Shawn," she sighed as she lit her blunt again. "You're so fucking hard headed."

"That's why you love me," Shawn joked.

Ashley laughed as she leaned back on the couch. "Forget it. And I don't love your broke ass." The two laughed as the sun started to set.

"Whatever." Shawn said as put out his blunt. "I'm hungry."




Elsewhere, someone sat alone in a darkened room, the stench enough to scare away rats. A thin man dressed in just his boxers and wife beater sat on a rickety old armchair, staring at his black and white television intensely. The President's body was being carried to Arlington National Cemetery, but his secrets who live on.

The man shook his head, and his unclean curls fell down into his face. He brought one dirty hand to his face and rubbed downward over his thick beard. "I didn't kill the President did I?" He leaned back at the revelation. "I can't remember a thing of the past week. What if I killed the President? What can I do?"

He picked up his ice tea and took a long swallow. "Got to remember…"




Shawn had made it back home easy enough, but finding food was a totally different task. He came into the kitchen, rubbing his stomach in hunger. "Damn, I think I smoked too much." he said as he sat down at the table.

Andre was eating some ramen noodles. "You know where it's at. Get up off your ass."

Shawn reluctantly stood and walked to the refrigerator, where his hunt continued anew. "Do we still have some of that tuna fish? That wasn't half bad."

Andre could barely make out what he said with his face inside the fridge. "I ate that earlier," he laughed as he finished his bowl off. "Since we have some time, why don't we run some more tests?"

Shawn closed the door and held a package of baloney and a soda. Before he could answer, he slumped to the floor.

"Shawn!" Andre yelled as he jumped towards his fallen friend. His fingers fell to the neck. "Come on, come on…" he begged as he looked at his watch. "Dammit, where the hell is your pulse?" His applied a little more pressure to Shawn's neck, but to no avail.

He took Shawn's cell phone out of his coat and dialed Ashley's number. "Ashley," Andre said as his voice shook uncontrollably. "Shawn's dead…"

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