Chapter 8-Dangerous Defiance
The FBI HQ was less busy than usual; other than Ames who had come in for a special assignment, there were only a few others. He headed to the elevator to head down to where the van was waiting. As he was waiting, Director Bannon greeted him.
"Hey there Ames, great to see you back. Enjoy the work-cation?"
"Oh, sure did. It was pretty elitist and socialist though. I couldn't really get a meeting with anyone important. I shouldn't have really expected much, since they're too busy being friends with socialist nations." Ames decided to leave out his meeting with the CSIS, and played along with the negative opinion the Director had of Canada.
"Yeah... I saw the news earlier. Canada's been pumping money into that lost cause, Ukraine. One socialist country helping another. Well maybe your next spontaneous assignment will go better."
"I'm sure it will. Anyway, I'm gonna have a chat with my friend." The director waved cordially while Ames went down the elevator. The van was ready for him, with O'Rourke in the back. Ames took the keys from the jailer, and headed on his way back to his place.
While he was driving back, O'Rourke, unhurt but still appearing exhausted, spoke to Ames: "Hey look, if you're going to take me to some other interrogation place or torture me, just shoot me because there's no way I'm going to tell you anything."
"Uh, just a minute." Ames replied. O'Rourke rolled his eyes; he hadn't been visibly beaten, though he hadn't been fed well and the jail staff had practiced "sleep deprivation" on him. Partially to soften him up for Ames, but also for fun.
Ames reached his place, and typed out a message on his phone for O'Rourke to read, again in case the vehicle would pick up audio. "Trust me, I'm taking you to other Democrats. I'm on your side. I'll uncuff you and bring you inside." O'Rourke appeared incredulous, but not overly surprised.
Ames stepped out and uncuffed O'Rourke to take him inside, only for O'Rourke to shove him against the van and run off. O'Rourke assumed that Ames just wanted to earn his trust to get more Democrat names out of him, and wasn't going to risk anything. How he would survive or stay out of jail, he would have to worry about that later.
"Oh damn!... Hey, come back! I'm not lying!", Ames tried yelling toward him. O'Rourke was far too fast, and wasn't listening in any event. Ames was now worried; not only for himself if the FBI found out O'Rourke had escaped, but what would happen to O'Rourke. Surely, the FBI would find out one way or the other and have every street operative out in force.
Ames did the only thing he could think of: he messaged Kyrie, hoping that she knew him and could contact him. But then again, O'Rourke didn't have his phone on him. He waited for awhile, but didn't hear back. He awkwardly went in and sat in his apartment. He would have to decide what to tell the FBI.
He'd just tell them that O'Rourke escaped-but if that were the case, he'd have to call now. But if he called, all of the street operatives would be out. If he claimed he had just killed him, but O'Rourke surfaced alive later, the FBI would know he lied and would doubt his narrative about Seymour and Hermann. It could blow up the whole thing.
Meanwhile, over the next few hours, O'Rourke knew that he was a wanted man. He'd have to get to safety, somehow. He had never been in DC, and assumed that they had a presence here like they had in Austin, but didn't know where to look. "I gotta get off the street. Fuck, I don't know anyone. I can call Leo, maybe he knows someone... he's just a plant though, and our chapter leader's dead. Maybe I can use a computer at a library." He tried to keep a low profile, and went down the street, looking for information. He asked some people on the street, and after a few hours found such a place.
Funding for such "elitist" places was poor; the decrepit building was leaking, with outdated computers and books that were tattered and smelled musty. He walked up to a receptionist. "Hey there, can I use one of the computers here?"
The receptionist answered, "Oh sure, right behind you." She pointed over to some computers which had clearly seen better days. O'Rourke would have assumed they were junk.
O'Rourke thanked her, and went over to log on. The mouse and keyboard were sticky, the seat had tears. But he had to make do, and find out something fast before his escape hit the local news. He also had little idea of how much time he had. The receptionist didn't appear too interested, so he could probably stay as long as he needed. He decided he'd try emailing Leo:
"Hey guy. I'm in DC. The FBI interrogated me and some guy tried taking me to his house, or I assume it was his place, I have no idea. I didn't trust him. I got away, I'm at a library. Know a safehouse in town by chance?" O'Rourke waited for a few minutes.
Leo messaged back, "Glad to hear you're safe. Someone in the FBI said he'd try to save you. Ames was his name. I guess he got you out of jail? Was that the guy you saw? I thought he would take you to a safehouse." Leo described Ames, and attached a photo from the news story the Tuesday prior.
O'Rourke replied. "Yes, that's the guy I ran from. So he's cool?" This relieved O'Rourke, since if he was ally, he wouldn't rat him out for escaping. But he didn't get an email or phone number, and didn't know his address. "Can you contact him?"
"Don't have his contact info. But I have an idea-I can contact someone. You should get an email from someone local." Leo couldn't call the FBI and ask for Ames, because no matter how careful they were, the FBI would still know he had called them, and might ask questions. Instead, he emailed Kyrie and told her O'Rourke was in DC laying low at a library. She then informed Seymour, and told him to coordinate something.
Seymour was in disbelief. "Hey, Hermann. You know that O'Rourke guy, who was arrested in Austin last week?"
"I've heard of him."
"Apparently that Ames guy who saved us also tried saving him, but he ran off. He's at a library right now, here in town."
"We need to get him then."
"Exactly. But if we show our faces, it'll be a death sentence. Maybe one of the bouncers can get him. I'll ask for the address."
Seymour emailed O'Rourke, who had been waiting for some time. "What's your address there? I'm a Democrat here in DC, in a safehouse."
O'Rourke was relieved and gave the address.
"Ok, someone can be there in half an hour." Seymour asked Dirty Dan about sending a bouncer to pick up O'Rourke. Dirty Dan was glad that such a high-profile person hadn't been executed, and sent one of his bouncers off to get the cargo.
Back at Ames' place, he still had little idea what to do. He decided the best course of action would be to take the jail van back out to the river, and if O'Rourke turned up alive, he'd just play it off like he survived. He got in the van and headed off, half-heartedly wondering if he mgiht spot O'Rourke walking along the sidewalks.
He was on his way when the Director called him. "Hey there, how's our VIP? Did he snitch on his friends?"
Ames replied, "He only gave me the names of people we already arrested. He outlived his usefullness. I'm taking him to disposal right now." At least O'Rourke hadn't been re-arrested.
Ames was waiting at the riverbank for a few minutes, when he got a message from Kyrie. "Come to Dirty Dan's. Your cargo has been accounted for." Ames was glad to hear back, and it sounded like O'Rourke had found his way to safety. He went back to FBI HQ, traded the van back for his car, and went over to Dirty Dan's.
He walked in past reception, and went to the bar. He now saw a familiar face: Kyrie was now in town, talking with Seymour and Hermann. "Kyrie!.. I mean, hey. What are you doing here?" Ames had to subdue his excited voice. He didn't want to draw attention, since he didn't know who else was there.
"Hey there, good to see you." She answered. "I decided to come up here with my other guys, especially since I heard O'Rourke was coming here and I had to meet him. The Democrat chapter head in Austin was arrested for 'terrorism' and executed last month. Leo-you met him-said he was all the way over here, and it was your doing. That's quite impressive."
"Yeah, I almost... eh, lost him. He ran off when I tried to bring him into my place. But you said he's been accounted for?"
"Sure, he's fine... so your name isn't 'Robert Hanssen', is it?", Kyrie said half-jokingly. "Afraid we'd react badly in Miami?"
"Well you did say that you tossed another FBI agent into a swamp, so I decided to wing it." Ames remembered this conversation, which felt like ages ago. "Hey fellas, too-", he looked toward Seymor and Hermann- "So the 'cargo' is here? Where is he?"
"Sure is. We'll take you up there." The four went up to one of the suites that O'Rourke had arrived at shortly before. He was dead-tired and starving, but as soon as he saw Ames, he responded. "Oh hey, I guess you weren't bullshitting me after all. This place is far better than where I was this morning."
"Yep, I bet. I was in Canada this morning myself. But I wanted to ask, do you also know Kyrie?" He gestured toward her.
"No, is she your wife?"
"Hardly", she laughed lightly. "I'm the head of the Miami Democrat chapter, and I have a couple of my guys with me. I have friends in other places too, like Leo."
"Oh yeah, I know him. I messaged him as soon as I 'escaped' from Mr. Ames here." He gestured toward Ames. "Before I tried doing what I did, I had to meet someone 'on the inside', like Leo. Others like me never made it. But Leo himself is risking everything. He probably kept me alive for a long time."
"I know", Kyrie said. "Your chapter leader got caught and paid the price. And you almost did, too."
"...I don't know what I'll do now though, at least for quite some time. They'll probably kill me on sight if I try going back, but I want to. Texas wasn't always like that, not everywhere."
"I guess I know the feeling. When I first met Ames, I didn't know who or what he was. Things could have went very different for either of us."
"Yeah."
"You should get some rest. You're no use if you're exhausted."
"Sure will. I guess after I recuperate, I can try fixing at least one thing wrong with the world, even if I have to spend the rest of my life trying to fix it."
Kyrie then wanted to speak more with Ames. "Hey Ames, I wanted to ask you a few things, now that we're both here. You other two, you can take a break."
Ames agreed, and they went to another room. Ames assumed it was about other Democrat activities. "So I assume you got my tip about the Philadelphia? Able to avoid all of the guys there being captured?"
"Yes, I have a contact there, he informed the Philly chapter head."
"Well awesome then." Ames waited for what Kyrie wanted to talk about.
"Why have you done all of this?", Kyrie asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you heard O'Rourke talk about the risk he's had. And what happened to me, what nearly happened to my guys here. And what happened to those who weren't lucky."
Ames waited for a moment, wondering what Kyrie was getting at.
Kyrie saw that he was a bit confused. She got to the point. "I mean, you risked a whole lot. I don't understand what's in it for you. If you arrested or killed me in Miami, you would have probably gotten a bonus, or put on the fast track to be FBI Director in a few years. But now, if any of this gets out, you could be in prison, or worse."
Ames considered this. "Yes, I heard about Rehabilitation. A giant lawnmower? I can't see myself there. I guess I never thought about becoming Director, or anything like that. I just want to help something that I believe in."
"That's not very common, especially for people who aren't forced to do it, like me. Is that all there is, just doing what's right?"
Ames wondered if it was time to tell her about the time machine. He decided in that moment: "What the hell?" It wouldn't matter what his motive was at this point. As long as his work was good, just like with the CSIS.
He eventually sighed slightly and said, "You're gonna think I'm nuts. But I don't think my motive will mean a huge deal, not now anyway. I... came from the year 2022, which is why everything was shocking and new to me. My *real* assignment was to find what would go wrong with this country and take a time machine back, to prevent those things from happening, or getting worse." He expected Kyrie to either laugh or react in horror at a clearly insane man.
When she gave no response, he felt obliged to continue. "This place, the strip club. My assignment began here, back when it used to be the world's best intelligence agency, called the CIA. I was shocked and also saddened to see it this way when I first woke up here. But I guess it's still serving some kind of purpose."
"Yes, you can certainly say. You've probably surmised that this is our safe house. And Dirty Dan is the chapter leader, though he's more of a finances guy and provides the space. Not really active otherwise."
"Probably alot safer for him then."
"Yeah... you've probably seen how self-righteous everyone is in government. However they let Dirty Dan do his thing, in exchange for special 'taxes'. Most weekend nights, he has no problem raising all the money needed for that."
Ames was surprised at Kyrie's lack of disbelief. "So you believe me? About the time machine?"
"It wouldn't matter to me. Either you're telling the truth or lying. But that doesn't matter."
Ames had an idea. "You're not really famous around here, you haven't been on the news for being arrested or anything, have you? I can probably take you out to the warehouse that held me in suspended animation for all this time, west of here actually. I just happened to wake up the day before Valentine's Day. It wasn't demolished in the time I was asleep, so I'm assuming it would still be there."
"Well that would be fascinating, but not now. I want to wait until O'Rourke is feeling better and talk with him. We need to build our networks all we can."
"Sure... maybe later then." A part of Ames weirdly felt like he was arranging a date with her for a later time. "But you also said Dirty Dan gets all the money he needs from this business. Why is he helping you then? Surely, he could collect a pretty big bounty on you alone."
"He just wants to. He believes in what we do, and supports it. Say what you want about the kind of business he runs, but at least he's not a hypocrite. If it was just money, then it would be an easy decision for him."
Ames decided it was time to go, for now. "Great to see you here. I'll be getting back to my place. The Mayor of DC is speaking tomorrow evening, and I'm going to go see it. It's about counter-terrorism, but other things too."
"Huh. Just like that windbag Rod Johnson, probably. I think I'll also tune in to see what he has to say."
They shook hands, and Ames went back to his place to digest the day's events and get some much-needed relaxation. He eyed the gold and diamonds he still had. "I guess I didn't need you after all. But maybe Kyrie and them have a use for you. I guess we'll see."
The rest of the day was uneventful, and Ames took in another show, this time on the History Channel. It was a reality show where college girls mud-wrestled in order to win breast implants. Or at least that's as much as a story that the "writers" could be bothered to come up with. Ames wistfully remembered the days where History Channel seemed to be nothing but World War II documentaries. Some of them decidedly awful, but still.
The following day, in the late morning, Ames texted Kyrie: "Hey there, we've got some time to kill before the Mayor speaks this evening. Would you like to see the warehouse I mentioned? Or just do something else to get out of the house. May as well."
Ames hoped it didn't sound cringy, or otherwise overly interested. "She wouldn't think I was asking her out, would she? Nah, she's just a friend, just an acquaintence. I could go and hang out with a guy, and it wouldn't be weird. We've met all of two times now, so it should be obvious I'm not trying anything... oh, I wouldn't actually know how to do anything."
She then texted back after a few moments. "Sure, I'll see it. I'm at the club, let me know when you're here."
"Oh, well... that was pretty easy. But it's no big deal." Ames went out and picked up Kyrie, and begun heading out toward the warehouse.
"It feels like ages since I've been in this part of town", Ames said as he drove down the road toward the warehouse. "You probably thought I was crazy, but you'll see it."
"Were you the only one?"
"Yeah. No one else was put in with me. I got out with the clothing I was wearing in 2022." Ames wondered if this clothing may help convince her. "I've got the clothing still, back at my place. I can show you it too."
"Hm, alright. But let's see this warehouse first."
"Sure thing". The pair drove up to the building-still undisturbed since Ames emerged-and went inside. It was still oddly quiet, and the compartment which housed Ames for all these years was still here. "You see, this is the place. The government bought this place back in 2022 and since no one thought it was important, they apparently just left it here."
Kyrie looked around this room, with some incredulity. "They had the technology back then? And why you?"
"Yeah, they had the tech, though it was still rudimentary. And they chose me because I didn't have a family, or many friends. I didn't really have any connections back then. They-the CIA, that is-also published my obituary, though I don't really think anyone cried over it."
"Sounds awfully lonely."
"...yeah. For me, the decision was an easy one. In some ways I was already dead. But I had a chance, this time, to find something."
"Find what?"
"An assignment that I could be successful, very successful, in. I would be in some ways the most prestigious agent. I could retire then."
Kyrie pondered, even if Ames was telling the truth, if he had thought it through. "What about the paradoxes?"
"What paradoxes?"
"I mean, you said you came to 'the future' to stop certain problems from happening. Let's say you were successful. That means those problems never happened."
"Okay?"
"Which means, you would have had nothing to report. So you wouldn't. But THEN, if you didn't report anything, those problems would still happen."
Ames tried to work through this logic problem. "So then, I would report them...? But wait, all the problems would be solved, or prevented, as soon as I arrived in the year 2305. So then what?"
"That's the thing with time travel. Some super-smart guys on the topic thought that parallel dimensions would be a solution to it, but I think it's just cheating at that point."
Ames wondered about this quandary. "So what would have happened if there was a time machine?"
"You would have probably caused the entire universe to crash. Or more likely, you'd create a never-ending time loop where you're living out these events, and then seeing a future where everything's great, and switching between the two, forever, with no memory of it."
"It's giving me a headache just thinking about it." Ames went over and sat on a sidetable, where all those years ago, he had received his final instruction. "283 years. All this time. I've lived longer than all my friends combined, but any one of them lived a fuller life than I had. Part of me wanted a chance to find some meaning. I guess I've found it. Meeting you and Roald for the first time, I met people I identify with. And I like to think that I've been able to help some; that some people have gratitude for who I am."
"Yeah, that's one way to look at it. Probably the best way. What about the other FBI agents? Are they friends of yours?"
"Oh them? They're idiots!" Both shared a laugh at this. "One guy, Cruz, is the Attorney, but he never had to take a bar exam. Goddamn moron. And another one, LaPierre? He always carries an assault rifle around because he's a tiny, weak man." Ames felt the need to clarify: "I'm not saying *all* men with guns are like that, but guys like LaPierre? If you met the type, you know what I mean."
"I certainly do. We have those types in Miami. They're everywhere."
Ames was glad to vent to someone how much disdain he had for his fellow agents. "And the Director, Bannon, is probably the worst of all. Sexist, slimy pig. If you worked for him, he'd probably grab your ass and call you 'hot stuff'!"
"I'd rather turn myself in and go to Rehabilitation."
"Probably lots of women in his life felt that way. Now, he's compensating since he's the one in charge."
The two laughed a bit more, and Ames thought of what to say next. "Say, when they put me in cryogenic sleep, they gave me some gold and diamonds in case I might need it. I can also get money from the State Department. I can give you those, in case you need funds."
"Oh sure, I'll keep that in mind. We can always use funds."
"Well... it was fun coming back here, funner than I expected. Anything fun to do here in the future? The TV shows are trash, but maybe a movie would be nice to see."
Kyrie agreed. "Well this one movie is currently getting great reviews. We can go and see it. It's called Assman."
"What kind of movie is that?" Ames' imagination wasn't going anywhere good.
"It's a superhero movie. About a guy who fights crimes with, well, his ass. I imagine superhero movies in 2022 were better written." Kyrie still reserved some incredulity, but humored him.
"Yes, you can certainly say so. Well, let's go see Assman. Never thought I'd say that." The two went to see this movie, Ames bidding farewell to this warehouse for the last time. He had suggested this place to CSIS, but they held no interest.
The movie was a string of fart jokes and ex-lax puns, with the titular hero ending the villain's plans by blowing his armored truck off the highway with a very creative wind source. Ames decided it could be worse. "At least it's not a solitary, farting ass. That movie would make *this* look like 'Lawrence of Arabia' by comparison."
They exited the theater, and Ames said, "I had a great time. That was the most fun I've had in 300 years. I'll probably get ready to see the Mayor speak then. I'd better take you back. How's O'Rourke doing?"
"He's doing great. He's eager to get back into things."
They got into Ames' car and on the way back, Ames asked, "You know, it is pretty dangerous for O'Rourke if he went back. Maybe he can stay here, or work in another chapter."
Kyrie responded. "Guys like him? There's no convincing him. He'd rather die than give up."
Ames dropped Kyrie off, said his goodbyes for the moment, and headed back to his place. He had a few more hours before the speech was to begin, so he watched some more of the dreadful TV before heading off for this church. He wanted to get a good seat. And maybe this time, he would participate in the spectacle sure to follow.
The church, "Our Lady of St. God", had a crowd outside already though Ames was able to enter in front of the line using his ID. He took a front seat and waited while others came in and took their seats. Naturally, many, if not most, were visibly wearing their guns. Who they expected to run into while attending this speech was anyone's guess.
While waiting, Ames noticed that Copeland was also in attendance, in the front row. He moved over to the seat next to Ames.
"Hey Robert, didn't think I'd run into you here. This is where I attend Sunday worship."
"Oh yeah. I'm here to see the Mayor speak."
"I guess that makes sense. He's speaking on anti-terrorism and you are the guy in charge of that outfit."
Ames nodded, and also scrolled his phone for news. Following Florida's lead, a few other southern states started withholding the runoff from their shore-based industries. The possibility of untapped profit was attractive, though no use for this chemical by-product was found yet. Ames hoped that this trend would continue.
After 15 minutes of waiting, the lights dimmed down and upbeat music kicked in, like a wrestling match was about to kick off. An announcer said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, our kickass Mayor is here to tell us ALL about anti-terrorism efforts, and our continued fight against SOCIALISM!"
The crowd cheered, with Ames playing along.
"Please welcome Mayor 'Marlboro' Jensen!" The man sprinted onto stage, sporting spiked black hair, sleeveless suit-pajamas showing off his barbed-wire tattoos, and a tasteful "Bring Your Kneepads" button on his chest. The crowd clapped, with some standing while the Mayor received their adulation.
"WOO YEAH... Hey, how the FUCK ARE YOU, DC?!", the Mayor began. The baying crowd only got louder. "It's a great time to be the mayor of this place. And our entire nation has been dealing with terrorism. Socialists, election cheaters, and those trying to attack our churches and government institutions. Well they got what they HAD COMING! Did you guys see Rehabilitation on Wednesday?!"
The manic crowd confirmed that they had with their cheers.
"Oh damn, if you're anything like me, I didn't even think an alligator could get that hungry!" The crowd laughed, while Ames felt equally confused and disturbed.
The Mayor continued, "Now some may say it's socialist, and maybe there's a socialist in our ranks, but you may have noticed the city streets recently being paved. We used money that would normally be paid to our government officials, though the DPW says it might lead to better corporate profits. We'll find that out. If it works and increases the profits of our patriotic corporations, I'll keep it. But if it DOESN'T, we'll find and brutally PUNISH the socialist momma's boy causing all these problems!"
The Mayor was more than happy to keep something beneficial in place that he could somehow take credit for, "socialist" or not. However, if it didn't work as hoped, he would immediately scapegoat the "socialist" who suggested such a thing and take credit for finding them.
The Mayor's speech touched on the recent news in Florida: "Matter of fact, my friends: we just fought socialism down in Miami. The governor there was just re-elected, even though the Democrats tried their voting fraud, as always."
"Amen", said members of the audience.
"The Democrats tried spreading their socialist lies before and during his speech. They tried promoting socialist ideas, such as 'minimum wage' and the evil idea of 'universal healthcare'. They also tried lying about our country, saying we used to own slaves." The crowd booed at this, while 'Marlboro' Jensen waited a bit to let them stew in their hatred.
The Mayor concluded the story. "But our FBI was down there, and arrested two of the senior terrorists! And if I understand correctly, those guys were brought up here, interrogated, and", he paused a moment, "disposed of like the trash they are." The audience stood and clapped for a few minutes.
Ames meanwhile wondered how the Mayor knew this. He looked over at Copeland, who filled him in, "Heh, the Mayor and I know each other from church. I told him about your handiwork."
The Mayor also touched on the news out of Texas, Pennsylvania, and other states. He regaled the audience about how the Democrats' efforts had been thwarted, and they were pushed back into the shadows. Many were arrested, with them being sent to prison or Rehabilitation, provided they didn't just 'disappear'.
Ames wanted to ask this crowd some questions, about their views on socialism and religion. He turned to Copeland: "So, I wanted to ask some questions of the audience while they were still here. You said you know the Mayor, so maybe I can get on the stage?"
Copeland thought it was a great idea for Ames to engage with the audience. The pair stood and got the Mayor's attention. After explaining to the Mayor who Ames was, the Mayor enthusiastically said to the crowd, "Ladies and Gentelmen, do I have a treat for you! We've got the man leading our attack on socialism, Robert Walker Ames! He's the FBI Director of Domestic Terrorism, and he's got some questions he'd like to ask you directly. What do you say?!"
The audience applauded this surprise speaker, though Ames doubted they'd be clapping long. He wasn't particularly used to public speaking, and he was also nervous on top of the provocative questions he had. This felt easier in his head.
He clammored on stage, and took the microphone from the Mayor. "Hello everyone. I'm the FBI person in charge of this, and I wanted to ask you some questions about your knowledge and opinions." His voice was a bit shaky as he began asking. But if there was no time machine, there was no use holding back.
"Woohoo! Yeah! Kick ass!"-said voices from the crowd.
Ames began, "You know, I've been to a number of states recently, where the Democrats have been active. Miami, Austin, and other places. And along the way, I've had some questions that I wanted to ask you, and the Mayor while I was here."
The crowd cheered at this request.
"Along this journey, I've seen a number of religious leaders, or heard about their conduct from my colleagues. To be honest, I remember seeing or hearing about pastors or religious leaders, on TV and such. And even when I was younger, I was surprised by them."
"Amen!", the crowd said.
"I'm not a religious person myself, but I never thought you had to be in order to be a good person. In fact, growing up, those who took their religion the most seriously were rarely pleasant. But these pastors and other religious leaders, I was *surprised*, by how apparently greedy and obsessed they were with money and material goods."
The crowd now seemed less enthusiastic. Copeland was stunned, but didn't say anything.
"I just wanted to ask some of you, if these religious leaders are supposed to represent 'godly' ideals of humility, charity, and selflessness, why are they the ones who own giant mansions? And yachts? And private jets? Why not live like the poorest in their congregation?"
This confused the crowd, who still had difficulty getting what Ames was trying to say. One of them said, "The pastor here. He says God awards him, and wants to give him the tools to preach with."
"Amen!", some in the audience said, happy to have their thoughts eased.
But this wasn't enough for Ames, "But why? If god is all-powerful, why isn't their spirit enough? How many horses, and mansions, and private jets did Jesus own? Why wasn't he born to a rich family, if he was the son of god?"
"Well, technology is different now", another in the audience added.
"No, can't you see, it's all a grift? A trick? Can't you and others see that they're taking advantage of you? With their collection plates, and merchandise."
Many more in the audience, and some of the news station crews covering the event, were visibly uncomfortable.
"Maybe answer me this question", Ames said. "What is the difference between a televangelist, and a motivational speaker who's also ATHEIST? None, they tell you what you want to hear and you pay them for the good feels."
Grumbling and confused banter filled the crowd. The Mayor was taken aback by this, and felt awkward. He didn't know what else to do, so he quickly stepped in and said, "Hey uh, I think what Mr. Ames is trying to say is, we just need to have faith in our leaders, and ask ourselves if they are truly qualified. Which, of course, our pastor certainly is!" Some tepid clapping came from the audience, though most were still confused. It had been generations since their religious leaders had openly been criticized, without the offending party being arrested or beaten.
Copeland, regaining his composure, was desparately signalling to Ames to get off stage by swiping his hand under his chin. The Mayor was also gesturing that Ames was done, though he protested. "I had a few more quesitons, about something different."
The Mayor hardly wanted to cause a scene involving the FBI, regardless of what was being said. Copeland's face bore his trepidation at what was coming next.
Ames dug in, "I've also heard this word being used by many-'socialism'. And I have heard that it is the worst thing possible, that it could destroy the United States."
The Mayor seemed relieved, though Copeland was still reserved. The crowd enthusiastically joined in on this new topic. Surely, their confirmation bias would be sated, and no critical thinking would be required. They were wrong again.
"I want someone to tell me what socialism is. And how it has ruined other countries." He scanned his eyes among the crowd.
Finally, one person raised his hand and offered, "It's where it's just, like, one guy and they tell you what to do!" Others seemed to agree.
"No, that's a monarchy you have there. In fact, it's the opposite of socialism. Any one else?"
A few tense moments passed. Someone else tried answering, "They take your tax money and give it to others!" This pleased some.
"You're closer, but not exact. I'll tell you what socialism is: It's where we pay taxes, ALL of us, including corporations, according to our income. Then, that money is used for benefits that we all have access to. Such as roads, and the post office. And lastly, people earn an income that they can live on. That's really all it is on a most basic level."
This was confusing to those there, including the Mayor and Copeland. They had been trained to view "socialism" as the worst evil possible; the thing that killed jobs, freedom, and religion. According to Ames' description, it didn't sound much different than what they had now. One of the confused attendees asked, "What makes socialism bad then? What else is there?"
Ames capped off his description. "Any government type can be corrupted. In theory, or how things are supposed to work, even a monarchy should work fine for everyone. But then you get greedy people in charge that twist an idea around, so that they get all the money and power. And yes, it can happen in socialist places like Venezuela, but it can happen with capitalism too."
The crowd was growing more uneasy and hostile. The Mayor was worried his event would make headlines for the wrong reasons, and Copeland was now standing, wildly gesturing for Ames to get off the stage. Ames had essentially defended socialism of all things, and if he wasn't FBI, he would now be dead.
Ames tried, in vain, to finish his thought. "The corporations here are just sucking up all the money. They should pay their fair share in taxes, and pay people so they don't need two or three jobs to live!" It was no use since the baying was now unbearable.
Copeland and the Mayor were now dragging Ames off the stage, equally for his own protection as well as to de-escalate. Ames and Copeland exited through the back of the church, where security escorted them back to their vehicles. The pair were protected from the few attendees who had filtered out and would want to settle things with Ames more directly.
"Well Ames, I don't have to tell you that tonight will definitely reach the Director", Copeland said. "I don't know what to make of it. Are you really defending socialism? Do you have any idea what will happen?"
Ames was in disbelief; he was hoping for a dialogue, and while he knew that tonight might turn out this way, he was hoping for a better outcome. "Look, man, I know it's a risk. But I have to stand up for what I really think. I guess I don't really care about the danger."
Copeland didn't have anything personal against Ames, but couldn't defend him either. "I'm going back to my place. I would probably call in sick tomorrow if I was you, but that won't solve anything for long. Even the Director won't be able to protect you forever if you piss off the wrong people."
Ames just went back to his place, and thought of what do do next. His mind endlessly went over the scenarios of what the next day would bring. "Surely, if the Director wanted me in jail, he would have arrested me now", Ames thought while assuring himself. "But then, maybe he's waiting for me to show up, or just hasn't heard yet... well OF COURSE he's probably heard!"
He finally settled on one of the only things he could think of-the gold and diamonds he had, as well as some cash he had laying around. He emailed Kyrie:
"Hey sorry to bother you, it's been a long day. I said some things tonight at the Mayor's speech which really pissed off alot of people. I thought we had a 1st Amendment, but I guess that's a 2022 thing. I have the gold and diamonds I mentioned, and some money. If I try running, they might 'tail' me and it'll put you in danger. I'll just have to play it by ear. I'm not dead yet, so maybe the Director won't be so harsh. I can try meeting up when things have cooled down, and see what contingency I can come up with. Robert."
He laid in bed, not being able to fall asleep despite feeling exhausted. Something about today was keeping him awake. If there was a real chance he could be arrested, he couldn't let them get his personal phone. He decided to put it, along with the gold, diamonds and some money in a bag for a "dead drop" the Democrats would collect. He considered hiding it in his apartment, but this would surely be found by the FBI if he was arrested.
Around 2:00 AM, he decided to head out and make the drop. He would place it under Chain Bridge, which was near Dirty Dan's but not close enough to endanger the others in case someone was monitoring and following him that night. He checked his phone before putting it in the bag with the other items. Kyrie had responded:
"I saw you tonight. That was really kick-ass. If anyone else did that they'd be dead. You should come here tonight so you'll be safe, it'll be alright. We'll worry about any heat later." Kyrie was more worried about Ames' safety than the danger of him being tailed. Many people she had befriended were already taken down.
But Ames was still too worried. He just messaged back, "Thanks, but it will have to be later. You can find the gold and diamonds, along with this phone, in a bag under Chain Bridge on the east bank. It's 3 miles southeast of Dirty Dan's. I'll be in touch." He checked around him, and discreetly placed the bag before heading back. If he tried to go into Dirty Dan's at this time of night, it would seem unusual for him, and anyone tailing him would take notice and follow him in. He couldn't risk it.
After he got back to his place, he tried to get some sleep before heading into the office. He wouldn't know what Kyrie would say, or what she was thinking, until he saw her again.
The next morning, he drug himself in, heavy with trepidation. He walked up to the conference room for the morning briefing, feeling the eyes of the other agents awkwardly gazing on him. "Are they going to arrest me now? Or just save the time and kill me now?", he thought.
The Director kicked things off. "Well Mr. Ames, that was quite an eventful evening last night. People have been e-mailing me all night and early this morning about it. I'm hoping for a way to rectify anything offensive before it hurts our agency." The Director wanted to avoid any further embarrassment to his agency. Simply arresting Ames would be a disaster; the scandal would cost the agency in every possible way. Further, he himself chose to give Ames this position, and autonomy. He wouldn't even be Director much longer if certain people stayed pissed.
He was hoping for a chance to "spin" what had happened. He introduced his plan, while the others were also listening. "I'll call the local news outlet, WANK-TV. They're sure to be covering what happened last night. But we can give them an exclusive interview, maybe for tomorrow. I'm sure they'll want to air it. You, Ames, can go on and 'clarify' what you said last night. Maybe you can 'explain' how you were mistaken about the religious leaders you've seen, and apologize for being mistaken about socialism. You can that you've researched some nations which have socialism, such as Canada, and how this has ruined them. It'll be your best assignment."
The others were surprised that Ames wasn't punished with arrest, or worse. But it made sense to minimize the prior night's events.
Ames had no choice but to accept this proposition. "Sure, I can do that. I'll be glad to clarify what I said."
The Director finished. "Good. Now, you'll be on desk duty for the day, and tomorrow at least until the interview is over. I'll give them a call in a minute... you haven't actually met a Democrat, have you?"
Ames was a bit alarmed, but assumed this was just a standard question, given the circumstances. "No, I've never met one. And I never want to."
"Ok, just asking. You should work on your notes for your interview tomorrow." The other agents stayed silent while the Director gestured for Ames to exit the conference area.
LaPierre held his head in his hand, thinking back to how Ames came across as "socialist" on their first joint assignment. Palin stayed stone-faced and averted her gaze. Copeland and Cruz stayed glued to their phones, with Copeland more visibly upset, having seen the prior night's crimes in-person. McConnell glared with his side-eye at Ames, since his role was to shut down online comments resembling Ames', though he didn't have the authority to arrest Ames himself.
"Well I... better get started. I'm looking forward to tomorrow." Tomorrow would surely be better than today. Well, probably. Maybe. He awkwardly left the conference room while everyone was silent, and worked in his own office. Obstensibly, his role was to find signs of domestic terrorism and dispatch local field agents to take them down, but his web traffic was surely being monitored. He did his best to look busy by reading reports from field offices, while printing out some pages of those arrested for "terrorism".
At the end of the day, he scuttled out early to avoid running into the others, and got back to his place. He spent his time at home between watching TV and thinking of the next day. He had the chance to survive, and sneak into asylum after things cooled down.
This was the plan as he slept. It still was as he awoke the next morning. He went into work and entered the conference room to meet the Director.