James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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XVII – Meet the PressThrough a large, ornate skylight, Max watched uneasily as one of two black military helicopters passed overhead, continuing its ceaseless patrol of the streets and surrounding buildings. How exactly did I get myself into this? she wondered, glancing first left, to Joshua, and then right, to Alec. If I didn't know better I'd think something's up between the two of them, she decided. Neither one seemed at all interested in the existence of the other, and she'd noticed that they hadn't so much as nodded a hello to each other when they arrived.
This isn't the time to worry about that, she reminded herself. I have to keep my head in the game.
"Are you all ready?" she heard Senator McElroy's voice ask from behind her.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Max answered, not bothering to turn around. As much help as McElroy had been, Max was quickly growing tired of feeling like a sideshow – the honorable transgenic leader McElroy trotted out every time he needed to grab the attention of a throng of voters. But a deal's a deal, Max lamented. He upheld his end – he got us out of Terminal City and back into the world. I won't renege now. I said I'd help him get elected, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do.
A marching band started playing outside (the state theme of Washington, Max noted), and the doors were opened from the outside, allowing a shaft of gray light to surround the four individuals. Max emerged first, walking up to the podium with Joshua remaining on her left and Alec staying on her right. Senator McElroy, for his part, did a perfect job of remaining a respectful distance behind while still assuring that every television camera present would keep him in frame.
"Good afternoo--," Max started, stifling a curse as her voice cracked. She cleared her throat, feigning a slight cough and a bottomless well of confidence, and then began again. "Good afternoon," she said with her most ingratiating smile, the smile that had won over Logan's affection (and Normal's forgiveness every time she blew off a run). "I'm sure many of you have seen my face on television," she continued, "whether it was while I attempted to open a dialogue with National Guard troops, or when I commandeered a Seattle police hoverdrone and made it my own personal floating skateboard." She morphed the smile into her own trademark mischievous grin at that last bit, hoping it would help her audience accept her attempt at humor. From the friendly, accepting faces at the front of the gathered crowd, she felt she was thus far succeeding admirably.
"Before I really get started, let me introduce a few of my friends, my trusted associates," she continued. "All of you, of course, know Senator McElroy," she said with a flourish of her hand, indicating the suddenly very humble-looking politician behind her. "You all know the role he played in assisting my people, and I'll never really be able to thank him properly. Let me just say that without his help, I would very likely not be here speaking with you today. The same can be said for my two friends, Alec and Joshua." She pointed to each of them as she mentioned their names, making certain she kept smiling, just as McElroy had told her. Psychological studies show time and again that people react favorably to a smile, he'd told her. Never stop smiling up there.
"Both of these men spent their entire lives at Manticore. Both of them have, since the destruction of the Gillette facility, devoted all their energy to assisting me in gaining freedom for our people. And please, don't let their appearances fool you," she said as she expanded the grin that was already beginning to grate on her nerves. "You might not guess it by looking at them, but Joshua is the nice guy out of the two." A few chuckles came from the audience, and Max dared to think she might have some iota of skill at public speaking. Then Joshua fell over, violently knocked to the ground. Several of the Secret Service guards were likewise sent to the pavement as gunfire erupted around the dais.
"Get down!" Alec yelled as he tackled Max down behind the podium. "Snipers!" Max's first thought was to retreat back the way they came, to find safety inside the courthouse, but a quick glance toward an agent struggling to pull the doors open clued her in quickly – their retreat had been cut off from someone inside. It's a set-up, she realized. Her first suspect was McElroy, but he was already hard at work wrapping his tie around his leg behind a few steel chairs, trying desperately to bind a gunshot wound as he visibly grew several shades grayer. Okay, probably not him, Max decided.
"Bring the limo around!" one of the Secret Service agents yelled into his radio. A moment later the left side of his head exploded as a sniper's bullet found its mark.
"Joshua, are you okay?" Max yelled. The large transgenic was lying out in the open, a prime target for any sniper that wanted to fire a few more shots into him to make sure the job was finished.
"Where are they?" Alec yelled into a radio that he'd grabbed off of one of the agents' bodies. "Give me a target!" He snatched the man's pistol and quickly loaded the chamber, surreptitiously scanning the surrounding rooftops for their attackers. Not that he's likely to hit anything from this range with a 9mm, Max cursed. For the briefest of moments Max recalled McElroy's earlier advice. I wonder if I'm allowed to stop smiling now, she mused, immediately shocked that such a thing occurred to her while her entire world was crashing in around her.
People from the audience were running around, screaming in panic as some were shot, blood spraying across the survivors as they sought some kind of cover. The squeal of tires began to drown out the screams, and soon the thrum of helicopter blades and the thunderous reports of M240 machine guns joined the cacophony. Max dared to poke her head out a little and immediately saw her limousine race up the block and come to a screeching halt at the bottom of the courthouse stairs.
"Not yet," Alec told her as he continued to search for a target. The sharp, deafening crackle of his weapon drowned out something else he said as he emptied the clip in the direction of a window across the street. "I think I got 'im," he yelled as he pulled Max to her feet. "Let's go!"
"What about Joshua?!" Max screamed over the deafening bedlam. She wanted to help her friend, but she noted with some surprise that she wasn't giving Alec much of a fight about being led toward the limousine. And safety.
"I'll go back for him," Alec growled as he continued dragging Max toward the limo. "You have to get out of here, though. Now!"
"But --"
"No buts; I'm not gonna let anything bad ever happen to you!" Alec screamed as they reached the vehicle. He pulled the door open and half-threw Max inside just as another volley of gunfire erupted from the surrounding buildings. "Max?" Alec suddenly asked weakly. A glazed-over look of surprise passed across his eyes, and Max found herself unable to look away from the blood that was spraying from Alec's neck. His surprise faded instantly and was replaced by a comical smile, punctuated by a forced chuckle that brought blood bubbling from between his lips. "You'll never know," he gasped as his body crumpled to the asphalt, a crimson torrent gushing from several gaping wounds in his back.
"Alec!" Max screamed. Before she could get out of the vehicle, though, a surprisingly firm grip locked onto her shoulder, pulling back inside. Her eyes immediately adjusted to the comparative darkness within, and her surprise made her oblivious to the constant tinging of bullets ricocheting off the armored exterior of the limousine.
"You!" Max gasped, her gaze drawn to the handgun that was being leveled at her. Before she could even make a move to defend herself, though, a bright flash lit up the inside of the vehicle as the weapon was fired.
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Don't move, don't move, don't move. The thought raced through Joshua's head as he tried to think of something he could do. Though his eyes were closed, he could tell that the scene was pandemonium – his ears let him know that much. Gunshots blazed away while people screamed, ran, and died. Don't move, he reminded himself. He knew he was out in the open, a sitting duck if any of the countless snipers decided to he merited a few more bullets. Don't know how much more I can take, he admitted to himself. His left arm was numb up to the shoulder, which was burning and wet. That's one wound. He also had trouble breathing, and felt a burning, throbbing pain in the right side of his chest. And that's another one. Confident that he's only been shot twice, and that he was lucky enough not to have taken any immediately serious wounds, Joshua thanked his lucky stars that he at least hadn't been hit in the legs. I'll need them to haul ass outta here.
"Joshua, are you okay?" he heard Max scream at him. She sounded surprisingly calm, despite the chaos around them, and it was all Joshua could do to resist the temptation to assure her he was fine. He didn't want to give her any reasons to start losing it. Don't move, he reminded himself again. And don't speak. Don't draw attention to yourself.
"Where are they?" Alec was yelling. A few moments later, Joshua heard someone fire through an entire 18-round magazine. Guess he found them, he decided. A squeal of tires and the deafening drum of helicopters drowned out most everything else, but Joshua was certain he heard Alec yell, "Let's go."
Joshua dared to open his eyes, and seeing no immediate threats, he slowly sat up. He saw Alec and Max beside the limousine, and then he saw Alec get shot several times. "No!" the large transgenic bellowed, dragging his body to its feet. Gone were any concerns about Alec's betrayal; all that mattered was saving his friend, getting him to a hospital so that he would be okay.
No sooner had he stood than his right leg was taken out from underneath him. No! Joshua silently screamed. The indescribable, piercing agony that shot through his body was nothing compared to the knowledge that getting shot in the kneecap would inevitably slow him down. I have to get to Alec, he told himself. No pain, no pain, no pain. He summoned all of his resolve as he fought to his feet once more. Why is the limo still there?
"Leave!" he screamed at the darkly shaded driver's window. "Get Max out of here!" Joshua struggled with his first step, and then dragged his blasted right leg behind, willing his body to walk despite its injuries. No pain, no pain, no pain.
He had only gone ten feet when a high-pitched whistling erupted in his ear. Instinct was the only thing that saved him as he dove to his right, landing awkwardly on his wounded leg as an RPG slammed into the limousine. The vehicle withstood the brunt of the blast, although the television antenna attached to the trunk was blown off and passed directly over Joshua's body, whizzing through the air where his head had been only a fraction of a second earlier.
"Leave," he muttered to the limousine driver as he stood again, refusing to pass out from the pain as he continued to fight toward his friends.
A second projectile flew through the air, and this time the limousine proved no match as an M-47 Dragon anti-tank missile slammed into the hood of the vehicle. The shockwave of the explosion tossed Joshua fifteen feet into the air, landing him back on the dais. He rose again, his eyes immediately drawn to the rear door as it opened and Max leaped out. She ran quickly into the street, her clothes burning with fire that melted her long hair and had her screaming in agony. Her voice was then cut off as several more gunshots rang out, knocking her from her feet and sending her sprawling to the ground, the orange-red flames continuing to lick at her body.
No! The scream was silent to all but Joshua as he struggled forward, removing the ill-fitting sportsjacket the senator had given him. He collapsed at Max's side, throwing the jacket over her body, smothering the flames. "Max," he whispered weakly. "Can you hear me?" She can't be dead, he told himself. She can't die. She didn't die at Megiddo; she won't die here. She'll come back. Despite his hopes, there was no movement forthcoming from his friend. Alec, he remembered, turning again to the only other X5 he'd ever trusted. Just as he looked, however, the limousine's fuel tank exploded. Joshua turned just in time to see Alec's body incinerated in the blast.
"Help," he gasped weakly. He couldn't hear any more gunshots, or screaming, or helicopters, or sirens. Silence deafened him as he searched for a reason to disbelieve everything that was happening around him. He turned back to Max, gazed at her terribly burned body. He noticed her eyes were still open, pain evident in the silent scream that stretched her agonized expression. He went to close her eyelids, but they turned to dust at his touch. "Help," he said again, just as unconsciousness finally overcame him.
To be continued………………………………
Author's Endnote: I just love using a nice banal title like 'Meet the Press' for a chapter that has major, unexpected events. I think it helps lull the reader into suspecting that it's just another slow plot-development chapter, and then WHAM! Now, of course, I suffer the fallout…