Chapter 11
An Airstrike for Christmas
A/N
I sped through this with the intention of getting this out before NaNoWriMo because if I didn't, there's a good chance I wouldn't have it out until December. And the fact is, this is what I intended to be the 'season 1 finale' of my story. It just wouldn't be right to have chapter 7, then a two-month break, then chapter 8, then a month+ break, then chapter 9, then a break of unknown time.
The result of such speedwriting is, of course, that this chapter is very lightly edited. If there's a lot of clunky writing, or plot holes, or other issues: "oh well." Leave a review to let me know if you find anything; I would love to correct them over time if I can.
If it's not obvious already, I don't do "betas" or anything. The good and the bad are all me.
Also:
C/W: Gore: I really don't like it myself, but I let myself get a tad carried away for the sake of suspense & "excitement". In section VII especially there's a bit of grossness there. I believe the T rating remains appropriate, but you are warned. I guess it's fitting for Halloween maybe? (There are also 13 "pages" in this chapter, if that counts for spoopiness.)
I
The two Directors and Vice Directors of the Guardians met in a small conference room inside their secret base. On a video call were a few hundred underlings, all they could muster for their Special Plenum. Why they would call an emergency Plenary Conference on Christmas, where many couldn't attend and those who did were exceptionally sour about it? Perhaps that was the point….
"Ladies, gentlemen, non-binary members," Director Markwind began, "we thank you for attending our Special Plenum on the Role of the Directorate in Regards to the Chairperson's Duties. We understand many of you have family to attend to, but we wish to stress the urgency of this meeting, and to thank you for attending, we have allocated extra bonus awards, equal to thirty percent of your annual salary, to be distributed to each of you at its conclusion.
"The actions of Chairman Shaw have, as I am sure you all understand, been increasingly alarming to us as of late. Ever since he began his relationship with the CIA Director, we have grown increasingly concerned about his loyalty.
"But this past week, the Directors and Vice Directors have determined that he has simply gone too far. Two esteemed Guardian agents are dead, thanks to the CIA Director, yet Chairman Shaw refuses to allow us to enforce accountability. Now, he practically forces us to bring Stephen Bartowski to our most valuable and vulnerable base, with claims that the extremely technically savvy octogenarian must fix our hardware to bring us what we desire most: a successful Intersect.
"This is all, quite frankly, extremely suspicious to us. Shaw claims Bartowski is too weak to be a candidate himself; why should we believe him? And why are we not using him, in any case, to locate his son, the most successful Intersect in history?
"Chairman Shaw has, in our opinion, concocted a bizarrely intricate plan, one which poses an existential threat to our organization. Shaw is a liability. We must correct that.
"Since our inception, the office of the Chairman has been codified as authoritarian, with no remedy of impeachment or term limitations. This is a fundamental weakness in our organization.
"Today, the Directorate submits to you an Amendment to our Constitution, allowing for the impeachment of the Chairman by unanimous vote of the Directorate. I shall read the text of the Amendment in its entirety, including all minutiae related to replacement procedures and the list of all acceptable reasons to submit such an Impeachment query. Unless someone would like to—"
"Motion to suspend the rules," a voice rang through the video chat.
"Second," about sixty other voices chimed in.
Director Markwind smiled. "All in favor?"
A voting screen under the video chat lit up. Nearly all attendees voted in favor. The vote lasted fewer than thirty seconds.
"Good, now onto the Amendment itself. Per our Constitution, for an Amendment to be proposed by unanimous consent of the Directorate and enacted by the organization, seventy-five percent support from a quorum of members must be achieved."
With so few attendees on Christmas, there was no way they actually had a quorum. But even the few opposing attendees had no desire to call roll.
Ninety-seven percent supported the Amendment, and so it was enacted.
II
As President Shaw was being fired, Robin and Julia were just arriving at the base's entrance two floors above. The entrance was underground, through a network of tunnels that connected to the same one they had driven through for Julia's first test, but which this time, they had entered via a parking garage of a condemned apartment complex in Annapolis.
When the SUV stopped outside the entrance to the compound, Robin gulped hard. Two dozen hostile agents surrounded them, all with automatic weapons. She knew nothing of Agent Stanwood's mannerisms or relationships in this organization; would she be able to pull off this role?
Well, she couldn't sit in the van and think about it all day. She had to commit. Robin got out, walked over to the other side, and unceremoniously pulled Julia out. The angle she tried to go for was 'quiet, fierce jerk', which unsurprisingly worked well among the crowd of Guardians.
"Stanwood," a gruff voice rang out among the crowd. She turned to see a tall, super-buff man glowering at her. She walked to him, pulling Julia along by her cuffs, Stanwood's gun trained at her back.
"We expect subject number two any moment now," the gruff agent continued. "When he arrives, I will relieve you."
Crap. Could she protest? Or would it just get her killed?
She nodded demurely.
The agent touched his ear, then continued: "Stanwood, Captain Todd wants to congratulate you on your first high-priority escort mission. When I relieve you, proceed to sector 8G."
The Guardians didn't exactly seem like the congratulatory type; Robin was certain that if she were stupid enough to comply, she'd promptly be disposed of. Still, she at least knew she was permitted to enter the compound – perhaps she could improvise her way back to Julia from there.
Just then, another black SUV pulled up. Yet another frightening agent emerged from the vehicle, dragging Betelgeuse with him. They approached Robin and the gruff man. Betelgeuse looked at her for a moment, then to Julia and the other agent.
Silently, Robin let Julia be taken in. Julia looked frightened by the swap. Robin tried to look like she wasn't paying attention. She followed a few paces behind, feeling like a thousand eyes were upon her (though it was only about forty-eight) as she passed the plethora of Guardian guards into the building.
The compound itself appeared empty aside from the five people walking through the entrance hall. It was essentially a long tube with bright off-white lights illuminating eggshell walls; opposite the front entrance was a single elevator. There were no other rooms, no bathroom in which Robin had hoped to inconspicuously duck.
She stood behind as the two agents and two captives entered the elevator silently. She wanted to act like she'd wait for the next one, but the buff dude held the door for her. Robin tried to act casual as she walked in. She noticed two buttons were already pressed on the elevator: G and ZZY. Interesting layout.
As the elevator doors closed, Robin flinched when a voice rang through the earwig she kept in her left ear. "Agent Miller," a staticy voice rung through, "come in, Agent."
The elevator was cramped; Robin really hoped no one else could hear the voice.
"Robin," the voice continued, "clear your throat if you can hear me." She attempted to do so quietly.
"Robin, it's Shaw," the President said. (Duh, she thought.) "I'm using the compound's network to communicate with you. The pen was a complete success. It's going to take us a few minutes to download their intel, but we've already mapped the base. The building itself has just two exits: the one you entered through, and an emergency exit at the top floor – a ground-level roof in rural Maryland. More troublesome, however: the tunnel network is sprawling. We're gonna push in from all sides, but we can only hope that we'll have reached the root by the time you need to make your escape.
"The airstrike will take out the emergency exit, and maybe a couple floors, but it would take dozens of strikes to flatten this thing. We can't do that. We'll have to simply trap agents in the building and force them to come through the main entrance – after we've taken it."
Ding, the elevator opened on floor G. Robin calmly walked out as Shaw continued discussing the plan of attack.
Floor G was a lot like the main entrance, except there were ten doors – five on each side of the hall – and a lounge area opposite the elevator. The first set of doors was for a bathroom; Robin casually ducked into the women's as the elevator closed behind her.
"Shaw," she interrupted in a whisper, "listen to me. I got split up from the others. I think Stanwood's C.O. wants her dead."
"What do you need from me." He wasn't asking.
"Can you access the camera feed for room 8G?"
"Done." He paused for a moment. "I don't see anything."
"What? You mean like there's no feed, or—"
"No, there's a camera in there. But… it's just an empty office room.
"Keep your guard up, Robin. Something's definitely off here."
As if things weren't off already.
"Oh, keep your gun in its holster," Shaw added as Robin was about to exit with it drawn. "They might be monitoring the feed. If they get suspicious, you're dead for sure."
Even better!
Robin tried to act calm as she walked to door 8. She may have had some good luck with Agent Stanwood earlier, but she wasn't feeling very confident now.
Her hand shook as she gripped the door handle.
She pushed it open, slowly.
Empty. Just as Shaw said.
Her ears rang in the silence, straining to detect the smallest sound as she stepped in.
Her eyes caught every detail, working just as hard to detect any movement.
She jumped back as something caught to her far left.
It was just a Ficus tree, slightly rustled by air from a nearby vent.
Air vent?
She whisked her gun out and pointed at the tiny screen.
WHOOSH.
She fell on her face, her gun flying across the room. Someone had swept her leg.
Before she could even think to react, a boot came down on her back and she heard a gun cock.
She squeezed her eyes, waiting for the world to instantly compress into nothing.
III
Ding. The elevator stopped at floor ZZY. It was a surprisingly fast ride for a number that suggested nearly eighteen-thousand floors (but was really just about 30).
Julia and Betelgeuse were escorted into another hallway. This one had just two doors, a large one in the center of the right wall, and one a few paces behind it. These were the Guardians' Intersect Research Lab and Observation Room, respectively.
"Here's the drill," Agent Paxton (the buff dude) started, "Bartowski will work on the machine, while Agent Kormin observes. Miss Howard and I will remain out here. When Bartowski's work is complete, Miss Howard will upload the machine. Then we'll all live happily ever after.
"If anyone tries to pull anything funny, well, I'm sure you can both imagine the consequences. The CIA would prefer an Intersect over a pair of mutilated bodies, of course."
Julia swallowed hard. She wished Robin was here instead of Paxton: the odds would be so much better.
Betelgeuse wasn't very happy with the lineup either. He bluffed hard to get into this room, but he had no idea how to sell that he was actually working on anything: he hadn't touched Intersect tech since he built the glasses he eventually gave Julia, and that was fifteen years ago. Not to mention he had no idea what changes the idiots in this organization have made to his software.
Betelgeuse hoped he could stall long enough for Robin or the CIA to make their move, but he wasn't very confident. At any rate, he turned on the machine's console, activated terminal mode, and started diving into the directory tree, looking for something he could act like he needed to fix while Agent Kormin stood over his shoulder.
Julia watched, waited, and grew increasingly bored. The adrenaline rush of fear that started when she and Robin separated was wearing off. She wondered if she could try to humanize herself to her captors, the way she tried with Robin when she was first picked up.
"So, Agent Paxton," she started, "what brought—"
CRACK. Paxton whipped her in the back of her head with his gun. "Don't talk to me," he said gruffly as his captive fell to the floor.
Betelgeuse flinched at the hit. "Hey!" he started, as Agent Kormin grabbed onto him. He kept going: "If you – if you want a working Intersect, brain damage… isn't isn't isn't exactly gonna, gonna help."
Kormin lifted their gun, but Betelgeuse turned to them: "It's not gonna help me fix this thing, either."
OOF; Kormin punched Betelgeuse hard in the gut. "Any brain cells in the stomach, old man?" they asked venomously.
Betelgeuse doubled over. "N – No… but it… sure slows me down."
"Then shut up, both of you, and get back to work."
Betelgeuse took a few minutes to catch his breath, then complied. He lifted his hands back to the keyboard and started—
Ding.
Betelgeuse flinched at the elevator's noise. Kormin caught on and pulled him back. "Expecting anyone?" they asked, training a gun to Betelgeuse's throat.
Paxton stood erect as the person exiting the elevator walked forward. "Director Markwind," he greeted, "what a pleasant—"
"Agent Paxton. The proper address is Chairman Markwind now. Chairman Shaw been impeached."
"Chairman! Congratulations. I apologize for missing the Plenum, but—"
Markwind put a hand up to hush the agent, as Kormin approached with Betelgeuse to receive the new Chairman's orders. "No need to apologize, either of you. You had strict orders and you followed them to a T.
"I am here to inform you that there has been a change in this operation. Shaw has put the entire organization in jeopardy by bringing these two here. Our first priority will be correcting that mistake.
"Orion will be our Intersect subject. He's had one in his head for decades; he can handle ours, in spite of what Shaw thinks. Besides, we do not need him entirely sane, we simply need to study him.
"Miss Howard, on the other hand, has seen too much. We do not need her.
"Stand her up."
Julia was still on the floor after Agent Paxton's assault. He picked her up and forced her on her feet.
Chairman Markwind pulled a gun from his back. "I wish to apologize, Miss Howard. If it were not for your incompetent President, you might have been able to walk away from everything today. But, I suppose, we cannot change the past."
Julia struggled hard. Even the ripped Agent Paxton had trouble holding her still. She tried to kick the Chairman, flinging her legs wildly; she even attempted to go limp.
"Get her on her knees," Markwind ordered. Paxton punched Julia in the gut and, while she recoiled, pulled her legs back and pushed her down.
"I intend for this to be painless," the Chairman continued, walking behind Julia, "but if you struggle, I might miss the brain stem. That will not be a pleasant experience for you."
Julia gave up. There was no way out, no one to save her, no way for her to save herself. All she could do was hope Chairman Markwind did indeed make it painless.
She squeezed her eyes, waiting for the world to instantly compress into nothing.
IV
"You're Agent Miller, right?"
She wasn't dead. Yet. The sound of the voice made her flinch.
"Get up," Sarah added, picking her foot up off Robin's back. "Don't try anything stupid; I'm here to help."
Robin complied. She looked at the other woman; athletic yet aged, with dark hair.
"Is that Sarah?" the earwig asked.
"Call me Stark," the woman said.
Robin grew wary. She backed toward her gun. "President Shaw said your name was Sarah."
Stark tensed up. "No one calls me that," she ordered.
"Yeah," the earwig affirmed, "it's Stark now."
Robin and Stark both relaxed. "You got Shaw in there?" Stark asked, gesturing to Robin's left as if she knew there was an earwig in that ear.
Robin nodded.
"Get your gun. We don't have a lot of time."
"What about the cameras?" Robin picked up her weapon as she asked.
"I took care of security, don't worry.
"And to answer your other questions," she continued, "I did not break in through their tiny air ducts, and that Todd guy's body is decomposing the men's room. Now hurry up."
"The others are on floor ZZY," Robin whispered as Sarah worked to clear the hallway. "Mister President, can you override elevator controls to—"
"On it," Shaw interrupted. "There's a car going down there right now. Afterward, I'll make sure it only stops for you.
"Wait, hang on a sec…
"Uh-oh."
Robin started. "What do you mean, uh-oh?"
"The guy in the elevator, he's one of the Directors."
"So?"
"So, I have a bad feeling that he's going down to clean up.
"What does that—"
"Oh shit, my Guardian phone's locked. Pretty sure I've been fired, which means you'd better hope this elevator runs fast, or else your friends are gonna get killed."
The elevator opened and Stark and Robin entered.
"Do you have a feed into the floor?" Robin asked.
"Of course I do."
"Well, what's going on?"
Shaw stayed silent a couple beats. "I'm going to try something; it should give you the element of surprise. You'll be outnumbered three-to-two down there. Good luck."
V
Click. The gun was cocked.
…
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. "EMERGENCY. EMERGENCY." BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Oh Christ," Markwind sighed – not concerned; more depressed – and lowered his weapon. "Looks like they've got a couple friends with them. Take cover in the Observation room."
Paxton and Kormin escorted Julia and Betelgeuse to cover while Chairman Markwind took his position.
Ding.
The elevator opened.
Robin and Stark hid behind the sides of the elevator. The latter used some reflecting glass to clear the hallway. Quickly, the pair exited, guns drawn, senses heightened.
They had taken their boots off in the elevator, so their steps were silent. They quickly noticed the two pairs of doors. Stark made gestures to indicate she would clear the first while Robin covered her.
Slowly, they approached.
Step,
By step,
By step,
By—
Clink.
A noise behind the second door. Robin moved forward, leaving Stark without cover as she opened the door to the Intersect Research Lab.
Before anyone could react, Markwind disarmed Stark, kicked her back, grabbed her, and held her in front of him, his gun to her head. Robin wheeled around, but while contemplating whether she could risk a shot, Kormin and Paxton came out of the second room, guns drawn.
"DROP IT," both ordered.
Reluctant and dejected, Robin took her left hand off the gun, lowered it slowly with her right, and put both up.
"Line them all up behind me," Markwind ordered.
While Robin was being cuffed, Shaw frantically shouted orders through the earwig. "MILLER? MILLER? WHATEVER YOU DO, GET JULIA INTO THE INTERSECT ROOM. REMEMBER THE EXPLOSIVE. REMEM—"
Markwind figured Robin or Stark would have an external communication device; he found the earwig and ripped it out of the former's ear. "Whoever this is," he threatened, "I hope you're watching the cameras. Enjoy the show." Then he dropped the earwig onto the ground and crushed it with his boot.
VI
Shaw scrambled as the operation collapsed around him.
He decided to focus on taking down the compound. The intel download was complete, but he couldn't wait any longer. He had to proceed with the assumption that the four assets were dead.
He picked up a red phone. "General, I hereby authorize the airstrike on the uploaded coordinates, and request troops move in on all positions."
"SHAW!" Director Beckman's voice nearly deafened him. "YOU WENT BEHIND MY BACK AND SENT AGENT MILLER TO HER DEATH?!" She walked briskly toward her partner.
Shaw sighed. "Walker, too. I'm sorry, Diane, I—"
Beckman punched Shaw hard in the jaw, sending him tumbling. She stood over him, fuming, about to kick him in the ribs when she noticed the video feed. She softened up as she watched the victims line up to be shot.
VII
Betelgeuse had just been put in position. Kormin went back into the room to bring out Julia, who was shackled to a heavy desk inside. She complied with her captor until exiting the observation room, but once she saw everyone else, she felt a surge of terror. Julia flailed, just as hard as she did with Paxton. But Kormin wasn't quite as buff. Julia headbutted them, knocking them out, and tried to barrel her way through the others.
Chairman Markwind shot her in the gut.
Julia slowed down, in shock, unable to will herself to move. She struggled to breathe, and collapsed onto Paxton. He tossed the bleeding body into the Intersect room and shut it behind him.
Betelgeuse and Robin teared up. Stark hung her head.
"So," Markwind broke the silence, "here is my final offer: You two," he pointed his gun at Stark and Betelgeuse. "You have connections to a living Intersect, Charles Bartowski. I have a cell phone. I want a number I can use to reach him. If you give me that number, and it actually connects, all three of you be allowed painless deaths.
"But the longer I wait, the worse it gets for you. I'm going to start slowly, painfully excising pieces of your bodies. I think I will start…" he looked around. "Ah, brilliant idea." He approached Robin. "I will start with this agent's left ear."
Robin winced in fear as Chairman Markwind slowly, gracefully withdrew a wickedly sharp knife from his pocket, unsheathed it, and brought it down to the crest of Robin's earlobe.
He slowly increased the pressure.
Robin pulled her head back as far as she could, but her captor held it still.
She felt blood dripping down.
"WAIT WAIT WAIT," Robin yelled, "I know things! I – I can—"
"LIAR!" Markwind tore the knife back, ripping her ear in half.
Robin used to think she had a high pain tolerance. It was nothing compared to this. She wailed like never before.
Kormin (out of their daze) and Paxton watched the scene unfold with glee.
VIII
Julia laid in the Intersect room, clawing at every breath. The pain was unimaginable; infinitely worse than anything Agent Ling had done.
She bled slowly. The bullet missed her aorta, giving her a few extra moments. She wished it hadn't. She wanted to leap quickly out of this misery, not drift in agony over minutes.
Then she remembered the bomb.
She had changed jeans that morning when she got her cast off – she couldn't very well continue with one leg of her pants torn off above the knee, after all – but managed to keep the device with her.
It was honestly quite a miracle no one noticed it; women's jean pockets aren't exactly made to carry, well, anything. But now wasn't the time to think about such trivialities.
She wanted to blow herself up right there.
But what about the mission?
She supposed if there was a chance that they failed to take the base, she should probably try to destroy the thing the Guardians value most. Even if they could just rebuild it, delay was better than nothing.
She tried to move.
Bad idea.
If she could scream, she would have frightened Pan himself.
But she knew she had to move. She couldn't die a failure.
Slowly.
Excruciatingly.
Like Sisyphus pushing his boulder.
She made it to the console.
Like Atlas holding up the sky, Julia pulled herself up, using all her remaining strength to keep from collapsing.
She stuck the bomb to the side of the console opposite the door.
A hard blink.
She was fading fast.
She tried to turn it, but her hands were weak. Her strength was almost gone.
Finally,
Click.
Beep.
A five-second countdown started.
Beep.
She wanted to collapse and wait.
Beep.
Terror welled up inside her.
Beep.
It's the nature of all living things to do whatever they can to survive.
Beep.
Julia ran in vain to the door.
IX
"This is fun," Chairman Markwind giggled, looking down at his victims, of whom only Betelgeuse had yet to be maimed.
All three hung their heads down. None of them wanted to give these wretches any more satisfaction; and in any case, two of them were in quite a state of shock and torturous pain.
"Looks like it is your turn, Orion. What of yours should I take?" He looked around. "Ah," he concluded, "what a lovely ring on your left index finger. I think I'll take both."
He stepped forward.
The door to the Intersect room exploded outward, crushing the three hostiles against the opposite wall.
Some television shows might lead you to believe propelling yourself out of a room using the shockwave of an explosion is, well, survivable. Unfortunately, that's a bit unrealistic. Julia was covered in third-degree burns, her clothes half-melted onto her skin; her gunshot wound was actually a bit cauterized from the burns, to be fair, but even if she hadn't already lost pints of her blood, that wasn't going to save her.
On the other hand, magical cellular regeneration serum might – if the others worked fast enough, that is.
Stark got up first. It was a struggle – especially after what Markwind did to one of her eyes – but she managed to fish the Chairman's body out from under the door, extract keys from his pocket, and uncuff herself. She proceeded to take the shackles off of Robin and Betelgeuse.
"Robin," Betelgeuse shouted, "take Julia. She might still be salvageable."
Robin was frozen at the sight of her asset's shredded body, but Betelgeuse's optimism shook her into action. She picked up the charred remains of Julia, and the three living members of the team scrambled to the elevator.
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOM.
The entire building shook.
"Must be the airstrike," Betelgeuse remarked.
Stark examined the elevator warily.
"It wouldn't have been damaged," Robin muttered, pained under the physical and emotional weight of Julia's body. "At least, that's what Shaw said."
"In any case," Stark added, "we don't have a choice."
They entered and pressed the button for the lobby.
"We'll have to fight our way out," Robin added softly.
"Dammit," Stark examined the gun she took from Markwind's body. "You're right – the strike was just the start of the assault. Either of you think we have a shot?"
Betelgeuse shook his head. "There are dozens guarding the door."
"Well," Stark sighed, "perhaps they won't expect being attacked from behind. I only got three bullets. You two have anything?"
Both shook their heads.
The elevator slowed.
Stark sighed. "Guess it was nice working with you,"
The door opened to find…
A quiet hallway?
The front door was a ways away, so they had difficulty seeing what was going on outside – all they could was a bright light.
Stark walked forward, signaling the others to stay back. After a few steps, she stopped with a gasp.
"Wh – what is it?" Betelgeuse asked.
Stark put her gun away and sighed. "They surrendered."
Robin perked up. "What?"
But she didn't wait for a reply – time was of the essence. She ran forward, out the door, into the sea of military personnel shackling dozens of incompetent Guardians, and stopped in front of Director Beckman.
X
"My fellow Americans," President Shaw addressed, "at twelve-hundred hours eastern standard time, a military operation was ordered and conducted over United States territory. An airstrike, whose target was the base of operations for a clandestine terrorist cell operating within our very government. This group has grown and festered within our government for over twenty years. For all of that time, we were at their whim, under their control.
"I conducted the operation to take them out, culminating in today's activity. But this operation was not just about taking out a base. We managed, through my leadership, to extract data before the strike that has led to the identification of every agent within this organization: in total, three thousand two hundred twenty-one agents, hiding mostly within intelligence agencies, but also comprised of two Senators, sixteen House members, and four hundred twenty-one state legislators across forty-six of the fifty-two U.S. states. This is an astounding discovery.
"In the last six hours, we froze the assets of every one of these members and arrested all but the eighteen Congresspeople, who must first be impeached or expelled per federal law. These proceedings are already under way.
"In the coming weeks, we will declassify batches of intelligence revealing the truly wretched nature of these people's crimes. As much as I deeply regret saying so, I must be honest in admitting that the state of our Union these past two decades has, quite frankly, been rotten to the core. Today, we work to fix that.
"Four years, one month, and eighteen days ago, you elected me with a margin of a single electoral vote and a popular vote more than ten percent less than my opponent. One month and sixteen days ago, I received zero electoral votes and fewer than twenty percent of your support. The fact of the matter is, I have never been popular, and in both cause and effect, I have chosen to act not in ways that would pander to favorability, but instead to what I believed was right for this country. I supported the amendment to abolish the electoral college, which thus far has floundered, because I should not have been inaugurated after the 2028 election. I supported failed legislation that would make coal burning illegal, in spite of my political party and the interests of the lobbies that subsequently threatened my life, because I accepted the science of anthropogenic climate change and its destructive impacts on our country. And today, I ordered an airstrike on U.S. soil, one which risked thousands of innocent lives in Maryland's capital, (but which fortunately killed none), to save our Union from the parasites within.
"Nearly all of you want me impeached for this act. I implore you: let me conclude this investigation. Let me ensure all conspirators are convicted. Let me work with the incoming administration to hand off all loose ends.
"Crucify me, but pity me. I will go of myself to be crucified. On January 20th, I will gladly turn myself over to federal authorities. I simply beg of you, let me first complete my work this term.
"May god bless you, and may god bless the United States of America."
Thus, Shaw ended his speech. Without any word of his own involvement in the conspiracy.
XI
Beckman stood outside the O.R. in the hospital wing of the Langley field office. Stark and Robin had already been treated, successfully, to resolve their maims (Robin would need a day to recuperate). Julia, on the other hand, would survive (obviously – I mean, what kind of media kills off its protagonist 9 chapters in?), but would take at least a few days to fully recover from her various injuries. But Beckman needed something that couldn't wait that long.
The Chief Surgeon stepped out to greet the Director. "She's awake," they started, "but in a lot of pain."
"I'll be quick," the Director responded. She put a mask and gloves on and walked in.
Julia's entire body was bandaged. She lay prostrate on the hospital bed, heavily secured, unable to move while she healed. The bullet that tore through her gut had destroyed her spleen (in place of which she received a very generous donation from one Guardian Chairman Markwind Flanaghan) and ripped through her intestinal system (which doctors were fortunately able to repair surgically) before exiting out her back. She would have bled to death nearly instantly if the bullet had entered less than one millimeter further to her right.
Most of the damage from the explosion was external – little shrapnel managed to embed inside her. Her heart had stopped the moment she impacted with the door, due to a combination of blood loss and blunt force trauma to, well, all of her.
But she was revived. She didn't understand how: she felt like she basically just blinked between the time of the explosion and when the doctors woke her up. But at least she was alive.
Beckman approached. Julia struggled to pay attention, feeling like every single one of her nerve cells was on fire. (Which was pretty close to accurate, quite honestly.)
"I'll be quick," Beckman started. She leaned in, to the bandaged ear through which Julia still managed to hear. "Meissa Bellatrix."
Julia blinked.
Beckman held up the same turtle photo Agent Hernandez had shown her some days back. "Julia, can you tell me what this is?"
After a moment, she breathed her response: "A turtle."
"Good, now," she leaned in again. "Gemini."
The same routine. Julia still only saw the turtle.
"Thank you, Julia; we just had to make sure. I apologize for waking you. The doctor will put you back to sleep as soon as they can."
She stepped out of the room, back into which the doctor immediately rushed.
Beckman dialed Shaw. "No Intersect. I tried both the original code phrase and the one Orion claimed he saw in the Guardians' code."
"Fantastic news," Shaw replied. "We recovered metadata from the destroyed computer: it also suggests no activation. Not as reliable – being blown-up and all – but good confirmation."
"Betelgeuse examined her brain scans as well; he saw nothing to suggest a sudden influx of terabytes of intel."
"Then I think we can put the Guardians behind us." Beckman felt Shaw grin in relief over the phone.
"I guess that just leaves us with one more question: What do you propose we do with Julia?"
Shaw thought for a moment before responding. "The Guardians are done. It's time for us to finally pursue our dreams. Keep her. We'll give her our own Intersect, learn from her, and finally build our perfect weapon. No one will dare challenge the power of the United States – they simply won't be able to."
Shaw hung up the phone.
A/N
A sincere thank you to all those who have read my silly little story. Your interest has been a joy to see. Please, leave an honest review if you can: let me know what I've done well and what I can do better. I really value it, and it will be especially helpful as I start composing my next set of chapters.
Quite honestly, I have been tempted to give up on this story many times. But y'all have continued to show interest; it motivates me like nothing else.
See you all soon enough with 'Season 2.'