I was now trapped in my house in Beverly Hills, the house I was living in for the past three days. Thugs sent by some gangster were now surrounding the place, trying to go after me.
I had to think. I've encountered these kind of situations during my past year of sliding. Of course, I was with three experienced sliders. But now.
Then I just rushed into the study. I could hear the sound of breaking glass, as the thugs decided to break into the house and gun me down in here.
I quickly unhooked all the cables from the Power Macintosh G4. I then lifted up the computer. It was pretty heavy. I was glad the physical demands of sliding in the past year have kept me in shape.
"What?" asked Roxanne. "You're gonna click them to death?"
I went out to the hallway, near the stairs. I could hear footsteps in the living room. I then heard the footsteps coming up the stairs.
Because of the design of the house, anyone walking up the stairs can not see the second floor hallway.
I waited for the right moment.
Then I struck! I rammed the frame of the Macintosh right into the thug's face as hard as I could. He fell down, knocking down two more thugs. Then I leaped down the staris and grabbed a pistol.
"Come!" I shouted. Roxanne ran down the stairs, almost tripping over the fallen thugs. We both ran out the front door.
As I had expected, the thugs left their cars unguarded, as they were all inside the house looking for me. Roxanne and I ran for a black Toyota Tercel. some of the suited thugs burst out of the front door. I opened fire at them, not caring If any of them were killed. I started the engine of the Toyota, put the gear in reverse, and slammed on the gas. I heard a crunch as the Toyota hit another car parked on Hillcrest Drive. I guess my duplicate can pay for this. I then shifted to drive, and drove off.
I quickly reached Sunset Boulevard. For a minute I thought I was safe. But then, I could see a car racing up to me, trying to pull close to me. The thugs must be following me! I turned the steering wheel just as I heard a gunshot. I then felt a jolt as they rammed into us, trying to force us off the road.
As I drove cdown the road, I kept being rammed from behind. These guys were crazy!
I saw a bunh of cars stopped ahead, as well as a red traffic signal. Stopping would mean certain death for me.
So I swerved into the opposite lane. I swerved back into the right lane as I crossed the intersection. I heard the hinking of horns as I went through the red light.
I heard the sound of a crash. I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw the thugs' car hit in the side by a huge truck. I am talking about the eighteen-wheelers.
"Are we safe?" asked Roxanne.
"For now," I said. "But Van Dahl is sure to send more hit men after me. He thinks I'm gonna testify against him."
"What is going on?" she asked.
"Well, Prudential Securities, whom I currently work for, has been laundering money for gangs. The feds arrested me. They told me that they will drop all charges if I testified against Galen van Dahl."
"Listen, we need to find someplace safe," said Roxanne. "Someplace where Van Dahl would never think to look for us."
"Here it is," I said, pointing down the street.
Roxanne and I looked at the Humvee parked at the curb of Whittier Boulevard, just east of downtown Los Angeles. Two MP's were standing nearby, holding M-16's. There was a sign near the Humvee.
MILITARY CHECKPOINT
YOU ARE ENTERING A MILITARY OCCUPATION ZONE
ALL PERSONS SUBJECT TO SEARCH
"Halt," said one of the soldiers. "show your papers."
I showed my duplicate's driver's license. Another soldier patted me down.
"You may enter," said the soldier. I saw one of them write on a clipboard.
We walked in, having ditched the Toyota for fear it would arouse suspicion from the Army. We also got money from my duplicate's account at an ATM.
"Well, now what?" asked Roxanne.
"We find an apartment," I said.
"In this neighborhood?"
So we walked around looking for an apartment that accepts transients. Finally, we reached this run-down place with a For Rent sign.
We asked to see the apartment manager. One of the tenants, who only spoke Spanish, led us to the manager's place. I spoke with him, an old Negro man.
"You must be on the run," he said. "The only white people who'd ever come here are either on the run from the law or from gangsters. In some parts of the country there's hardly any difference between the two."
"Is there telephone service, sir?" asked Roxanne.
"Nope," said the apartment manager. "There's only electricity and running water. Of course, you have to bring your own TV if you want to watch it. And make sure it's a cheap-ass TV. Armed robberies are uncommon, thanks to them soldiers, but thieves and burglars are still runnin' about."
We both looked at our new apartment, and it sure was contrast from our Beverly Hills home. The wallpaper was torn in several places, and there were cracks in the plaster of the wall. There were also stains on the carpet and on the counter of the kitchen sink. Most telling, though, were bullet holes in the walls.
"God," said Roxanne. "what a dump."
"I've slept in worse," I said, which was true of me, but not of the husband whom she thought I am.
"I need to call the FBI," I said.
"What, you're gonna squeal?" Roxanne asked.
"Yup," I said. She handed me her Motorola cellular phone.
I then asked the apartment manager for a phone book so I can call the FBI.
"Federal Bureau of Investigation," said a female voice. "How may I help you?"
"This is Colin Mallory," I said. "Is Agent Redfield there?"
"No, he is not."
"I need him on the line. This is an emergency. Some thugs tried to kill me this morning. I need protection. I'm willing to talk."
"Just give me your number."
I gave her Roxanne's cell phone number. "Okay, sir. Just hang on."
I hung up. "Well, we'll wait to see if Agent Redfield is willing to help me out."
Roxanne and I had bought dinner from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
"There's something I've got to tell you," I said.
"You're gonna confess to cheating on me?" she asked.
"No," I said. "It will be hard to believe."
"That is the dumbest story I've ever heard," she said.
I had just told her about my life. About being born in another dimension. About being left with my parents' duplicates in another dimension's version of San Francisco. About meeting up with my brother Quinn, a counterpart of this world's Quinn. About visiting dozens of parallel univerrses over the years, the last few alone, separated from my brother.
"See this watch?" I asked. "Someone who understood what was happening to me designed it so it would tell me how much time was left. I slide out on Monday."
"So why not just leave the area, and go to New York or Philadelphia or something?" said Roxanne.
"I think God is guiding my journey," I replied. "Your husband left you with me so we could take a bullet for him. Listen, Roxanne. You deserve better, better than Colin. I know he has mistreated you. You deserve better."
"You're better."
"I can't stay, Roxanne. I'll be gone on Monday."
We both went to sleep in the new apartment. I wondered if Quinn and Rembrandt and Maggie will try to retrieve me like they did two days ago. Maybe I won't be unstuck any longer.
I woke up and I heard the sound of a lousspeaker. But it was only 11:45 PM. Roxanne stirred awake too.
"Colin Mallory!" the voice shouted. "This is the United States Army! We have the place surrounded! You have thirty seconds to vacate the premises with your hands on top of your head. I repeat. Colin Mallory, this is the United States Army! We have the place surrounded! You have thirty seconds to vacate the premises with your hands on top of your head."
So that's what I did. I figured the FBI put out a warrant for my arrest or something, and the Army was here to provide backup.
Roxanne and I walked out, and I faced over a dozen soldiers with MP's. I could see armored personnel carriers, Humvees, and Ford Crown Victoria police cars parked on the street just outisde the apartment. the soldiers put me and Roxanne into the green Army police car and then we all drove off.
The U.S. Army police car stopped in front of the Army Detainee Center, the same one where I spent Wednesay night after my arrival here. But we were not put in a holding cell, nor wwere our fingerprints taken. We were put in an interrogation room.
"Captain Shays will be with you in a moment," said the sergeant who brought us in here. "make yourselves comfortable. I can bring some donuts."
The sergeant brought the two of us donuts and coffee from Krispy Kreme a few minutes later. I guess the Army brought us here so they can turn me over to the FBI.
"Don't worry, Roxanne," I said. "Everything will be fine."
So we ate the donuts and drank some of the coffee for the next few minutes. Then, the door opened, and a man in an Army uniform stepped inside. I was expecting FBI agents to accompany him.
But I saw Galen van Dahl instead. He was accompanied by this huge Negro with a gleaming gold incisor.
"What's going on?" I asked the Army man, whom I can tell was Captain Shays.
"I'm just turning over a squealer," said Shays. I looked into his face, and I remembered where I saw him before.
Two months ago, I ended up in a death camp in the Presidio in San Francisco. I was kept in a shack with a whole vbunch of other people who were believed to be traitors to their country. A guard came in and tried to take one of the female prisoners so he could rape her, but I stuck a sharpened piece of wood into his neck and killed him.
Captain Shays here happens to be a duplicate of that guard!
"Nice to see you again, Mallory," said Van Dahl. "We used to get along together so well. Too bad you had to betray me. You got careless, Mallory. One of the reasons your bosses paid you so much is so you can take the fall for them. But it will work out anyway. I kill you, and your bosses and I can continue to do business."
"Shays," I said, "Why are you working with him? I know why the President declared martial law. He is the enemy."
"The enemy was destroyed three years ago," said the captain. "Van Dahl's people are no threat to this nation. I was not sent here to fight him."
"Those terrorist gangs were waging war on the people of this neighborhood," said Van Dahl. "It wasn't safe to go out and buy tobacco and heroin. My people don't go around killing people simply because they wear the wrong color clothes. Those gangs were a threat to my business. They had to be eliminated. What I do is provide people with the goods and services they want. Tobacco. Cocaine. heroin. Women. And with soldiers occupying certain neighborhoods, business skyrocketed!"
"Mr. van Dahl has offered me a position in his company," said Shays. "As soon as my service obligatrion is finished, I will resign and work for him, and earn ten times what the Army pays me!"
"I don't hate you, Mallory," said Van Dahl. "Thought you were willing to betray your clients, I do not hate you. I sure won't be seething with rage against you when you are dead. It is too bad about the wife, though."
"What?" asked Roxanne.
"Those who turn agaist me, I not only destroy them, but their families as well," said Van Dahl. "I insist on doing business with those who are married or have kids. It gives my associates incentive not to swindle me or rat me out. It is a pity I have to kill her; she is so beautiful."
He then pulls out a pistol.
"You know," I said, "Congress outlawed firearms in the 1970's."
"And you know, white people don't get prosecuted for carrying firearms. They get a warning, and their gun back."
"You're a soldier!" shouted Roxanne to Captain Shays. "Do something! He's carrying a gun, and that's illegal!"
"It's not my job to enforce the gun laws," said Shays. "My job is keeping the peace."
"And how is allowing him to shoot her keeping the peace?" I asked.
"This won't go on any official report," the captain answered.
Van Dahl then put the barrel of the pistol against Roxanne's temple, and smiled. It seemed he did this before. He was so calm, seeing the fear in his victim's eyes, not expecting resistance.
Then I struck! I leaped and my fist, carrying the momentum of my body, made contact with Van Dahl's face. I then tuirned towards Captain Shays, who was unholstering his Beretta. I rammed right into him, causing him to fall into the gold-toothed Negro, and they both fell.
"Let's go," I shouted.
We ran through the hallway of the Detainee Center, and then we sprinted out of the lobby. We kept running until we went into a dark alley. I looked towards the Detainee Center. I saw an MP come out and look around for us, but he did not see us.
I assessed the situation. Whom can I trust? I wonder how many of the soldiers here would commit murder for Captain Shays. I wonder who among the LAPD, L.A. County Sheriff's Department, and FBI were aligned with Galen van Dahl.
Who is friend, and who is foe?
Suddenly, there was a loud voice coming from the loudspeakers on the street.
This is a lockdown. I repeat, this is a lockdown. all civilians are required to stay indoors. I repeat, this is a lockdown."
I did not have to know about this world's history to know that soldiers will be patrolling the streets, arresting anyone who refuses to cooperate. We his in a junk-strewn alley. A helicopter flew overhead. I dialed the FBI on Roxanne's cell phone.
"Hello?" asked the graveyard shift receptionist.
"Can you connect me to Agent Redfield?" I asked.
"He is not here."
"Tell him I am in the military occupation zone east of downtown. Galen van Dahl is working with an Army captain named Shays."
"Okay, sir, I've got it."
"So what now, Colin?" asked Roxanne. "Do we just sleep in this alley like bums?"
"We'll just have to hide until the Army cancels the lockdown. Of course, Captain Shays ordered this lockdown, and he might not lift it until I'm caught."
"But what?"
"You know, Shays will be after me, not you. You go escape."
"No, Colin. I'm sticking with you. I'll be on your side while you're here, unlike some other person who looks like you."
So Roxanne peeked around the corner of the alley with the street ahead. She signaled for me to go. I went out, and saw no military vehicles driving down the street. We walked down the sidewalk.
And then we saw a Humvee make a right turn, heading towards us. We quickly ducked behind a building, allowing the Humvee to pass.
We continued along the street, sticking close to the buildings. The only sounds were those of Army helicopters flying above us.
We saw a bunch of military vehciles parked on the street. It must be a random checkpoint, so we decided to go on another street.
I felt Roxanne's cell phone vibrate. It must be ringing.
"Hello, this is Colin Mallory," I said.
"Mr. Mallory, this is Agent Redfield," said the voice. "Listen, I'm at the main checkpoint to the Hollenbeck Military Occupation Zone on Whittier. It seems that Captain Shays ordered a lockdown of the sector. No one is allowed inside without his permission, not even FBI."
"He was trying to kill me," I said. "He's working with van Dahl."
"He is?" Redfield asked.
"Listen, can you send a helicopter over here?"
"Airspace over military occupation zones are closed when a lockdown is in effect."
Suddenly, Roxanne and I were illuminated in light.
"This is Captain Shays of the United States Army!" shouted a voice from the helicopter loudpeaker. "Lay down with your hands on top of your head."
Well, we did what we could only do.
Run.
We ran as fast as we could. Not that we could outrun a helicopter, but it would have to land before the soldiers in there could get us.
And then I heard something which sounded like a metal object bouncing off a steel lamppost at high speed.
"They're shooting at us!" shouted Roxanne.
"We have to take cover," I said. Then just ahead, I saw a bar that was still open. "In there!"
We both got inside.
the first thing I noticed was the smell of cigarette smoke. the place was crowded. There were a few civilians in here, and the rest were soldiers. Beer was served in pitchers.
This must be a tobacco house, where tobacco is sold to users. I saw two MP's standing by, armed with clubs, and it is clear that soldiers were providing security for the tobacco house.
We both went to the bar and ordered beer. The best thing to do is to blend in until we could figure out our next move. We both knew that Shays would order building-to-building searches.
"Hey babe," I heard someone say. I looked, and saw that those words came from a soldier on liberty.
"you talking to me?" asked Roxanne.
"Yeah, and noiw ain't you a sight. We don't get a lot of white ladies in this here joint. I never saw one here."
"Let me get you a drink."
Roxanne bought the guy a drink, as well as a cigarette. I wondered if my duplicate would be jealous of seeing his wife with this man here.
and then I saw them go out together. I wondered if Roxanne decided her marriage was over and to start seeing other men. I mean, her husband had been cheating on her, and left her here to be with some model from the Cayman Islands.
After a few minutes, Roxanne came back inside, alone.
"Colin," she said. "Come outside quick. I've got an idea."
I was just about to leave the bar when an Army police car came up. Some MP's. accompanied by Captain Shays, went inside the bar. I made sure he couild not get a good look at me.
Pretty soon, all the soldiers went outside and started walking around. I guessed they were looking for me.
Roxanne and I went out and walked to the Whittier Boulevard checkpoint. None of the soldiers at the checkpoint even batted an eye when we walked through.
After all, I was dressed like opne of them, ditching my expensive suit for combat fatigues.
"You're very brilliant," I said to Roxanne. "If only Colin could have known how valuable you are to anyone."
The next day were spent hiding out in a motel. No one had come looking for us. In the meantime, I called FBI Agent Redfield. I explained how I got away from the military occupation zone.
"We've just arrested Galen van Dahl," said Redfield. "You see, four of his thugs were in an automobile accident."
"They were chasing me," I said.
"One of them has agreed to talk. We placed him under witness protection. and there is other good news. The Army has arrested Captain Shays. He was already under investigation. Thanks to your actions, they now have proof. Now, Mallory, will you testify."
"I haven't discussed this with my attorney," I said.
"I understand. I'll put you under witness protection for a week until you decide. Just remember, should you choose not to testify, you will no longer be eligible for the witness protection program."
I spent the past day at the Beverly Hills home. the whole place was trashed by the thugs sent to kill me. I saw cars parked bearby, wjhich I figurted were FBI cars.
I decided to make one phone call.
"Hello," the other voice on the line said.
"Hello, Colin," I said.
"You're still alive?" he asked.
"Yes. Oh, Colin, by the way, you are being charged with fraud and insider trading. I advise you find yourself the best attorney you can afford."
"Well, you have to deal with it. I can just live here with my Isabel."
"I'll be gone tonight. And I made sure that the FBI will know where you have gone."
"there's no extradition treaty with the Caymans," said my duplicate.
"What about Galen van Dahl. He thinks you betrasyed him, and he's gonna come after you. No extradition treaty will stop him. IOf you come back to the United States, the feds will protect youi. But stay here, and you're on your own."
"Hand me that," said Roxanne. She spoke into the cell phone. "Colin, I'm leaving."
and she hung up.
Finally, it was time for me to go.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I know my friends are looking for me. I'll reunite with them.
And then I felt as if I was weightless, as I traversed the barriers between dimensions.
I had to think. I've encountered these kind of situations during my past year of sliding. Of course, I was with three experienced sliders. But now.
Then I just rushed into the study. I could hear the sound of breaking glass, as the thugs decided to break into the house and gun me down in here.
I quickly unhooked all the cables from the Power Macintosh G4. I then lifted up the computer. It was pretty heavy. I was glad the physical demands of sliding in the past year have kept me in shape.
"What?" asked Roxanne. "You're gonna click them to death?"
I went out to the hallway, near the stairs. I could hear footsteps in the living room. I then heard the footsteps coming up the stairs.
Because of the design of the house, anyone walking up the stairs can not see the second floor hallway.
I waited for the right moment.
Then I struck! I rammed the frame of the Macintosh right into the thug's face as hard as I could. He fell down, knocking down two more thugs. Then I leaped down the staris and grabbed a pistol.
"Come!" I shouted. Roxanne ran down the stairs, almost tripping over the fallen thugs. We both ran out the front door.
As I had expected, the thugs left their cars unguarded, as they were all inside the house looking for me. Roxanne and I ran for a black Toyota Tercel. some of the suited thugs burst out of the front door. I opened fire at them, not caring If any of them were killed. I started the engine of the Toyota, put the gear in reverse, and slammed on the gas. I heard a crunch as the Toyota hit another car parked on Hillcrest Drive. I guess my duplicate can pay for this. I then shifted to drive, and drove off.
I quickly reached Sunset Boulevard. For a minute I thought I was safe. But then, I could see a car racing up to me, trying to pull close to me. The thugs must be following me! I turned the steering wheel just as I heard a gunshot. I then felt a jolt as they rammed into us, trying to force us off the road.
As I drove cdown the road, I kept being rammed from behind. These guys were crazy!
I saw a bunh of cars stopped ahead, as well as a red traffic signal. Stopping would mean certain death for me.
So I swerved into the opposite lane. I swerved back into the right lane as I crossed the intersection. I heard the hinking of horns as I went through the red light.
I heard the sound of a crash. I looked in the rearview mirror, and saw the thugs' car hit in the side by a huge truck. I am talking about the eighteen-wheelers.
"Are we safe?" asked Roxanne.
"For now," I said. "But Van Dahl is sure to send more hit men after me. He thinks I'm gonna testify against him."
"What is going on?" she asked.
"Well, Prudential Securities, whom I currently work for, has been laundering money for gangs. The feds arrested me. They told me that they will drop all charges if I testified against Galen van Dahl."
"Listen, we need to find someplace safe," said Roxanne. "Someplace where Van Dahl would never think to look for us."
"Here it is," I said, pointing down the street.
Roxanne and I looked at the Humvee parked at the curb of Whittier Boulevard, just east of downtown Los Angeles. Two MP's were standing nearby, holding M-16's. There was a sign near the Humvee.
MILITARY CHECKPOINT
YOU ARE ENTERING A MILITARY OCCUPATION ZONE
ALL PERSONS SUBJECT TO SEARCH
"Halt," said one of the soldiers. "show your papers."
I showed my duplicate's driver's license. Another soldier patted me down.
"You may enter," said the soldier. I saw one of them write on a clipboard.
We walked in, having ditched the Toyota for fear it would arouse suspicion from the Army. We also got money from my duplicate's account at an ATM.
"Well, now what?" asked Roxanne.
"We find an apartment," I said.
"In this neighborhood?"
So we walked around looking for an apartment that accepts transients. Finally, we reached this run-down place with a For Rent sign.
We asked to see the apartment manager. One of the tenants, who only spoke Spanish, led us to the manager's place. I spoke with him, an old Negro man.
"You must be on the run," he said. "The only white people who'd ever come here are either on the run from the law or from gangsters. In some parts of the country there's hardly any difference between the two."
"Is there telephone service, sir?" asked Roxanne.
"Nope," said the apartment manager. "There's only electricity and running water. Of course, you have to bring your own TV if you want to watch it. And make sure it's a cheap-ass TV. Armed robberies are uncommon, thanks to them soldiers, but thieves and burglars are still runnin' about."
We both looked at our new apartment, and it sure was contrast from our Beverly Hills home. The wallpaper was torn in several places, and there were cracks in the plaster of the wall. There were also stains on the carpet and on the counter of the kitchen sink. Most telling, though, were bullet holes in the walls.
"God," said Roxanne. "what a dump."
"I've slept in worse," I said, which was true of me, but not of the husband whom she thought I am.
"I need to call the FBI," I said.
"What, you're gonna squeal?" Roxanne asked.
"Yup," I said. She handed me her Motorola cellular phone.
I then asked the apartment manager for a phone book so I can call the FBI.
"Federal Bureau of Investigation," said a female voice. "How may I help you?"
"This is Colin Mallory," I said. "Is Agent Redfield there?"
"No, he is not."
"I need him on the line. This is an emergency. Some thugs tried to kill me this morning. I need protection. I'm willing to talk."
"Just give me your number."
I gave her Roxanne's cell phone number. "Okay, sir. Just hang on."
I hung up. "Well, we'll wait to see if Agent Redfield is willing to help me out."
Roxanne and I had bought dinner from Kentucky Fried Chicken.
"There's something I've got to tell you," I said.
"You're gonna confess to cheating on me?" she asked.
"No," I said. "It will be hard to believe."
"That is the dumbest story I've ever heard," she said.
I had just told her about my life. About being born in another dimension. About being left with my parents' duplicates in another dimension's version of San Francisco. About meeting up with my brother Quinn, a counterpart of this world's Quinn. About visiting dozens of parallel univerrses over the years, the last few alone, separated from my brother.
"See this watch?" I asked. "Someone who understood what was happening to me designed it so it would tell me how much time was left. I slide out on Monday."
"So why not just leave the area, and go to New York or Philadelphia or something?" said Roxanne.
"I think God is guiding my journey," I replied. "Your husband left you with me so we could take a bullet for him. Listen, Roxanne. You deserve better, better than Colin. I know he has mistreated you. You deserve better."
"You're better."
"I can't stay, Roxanne. I'll be gone on Monday."
We both went to sleep in the new apartment. I wondered if Quinn and Rembrandt and Maggie will try to retrieve me like they did two days ago. Maybe I won't be unstuck any longer.
I woke up and I heard the sound of a lousspeaker. But it was only 11:45 PM. Roxanne stirred awake too.
"Colin Mallory!" the voice shouted. "This is the United States Army! We have the place surrounded! You have thirty seconds to vacate the premises with your hands on top of your head. I repeat. Colin Mallory, this is the United States Army! We have the place surrounded! You have thirty seconds to vacate the premises with your hands on top of your head."
So that's what I did. I figured the FBI put out a warrant for my arrest or something, and the Army was here to provide backup.
Roxanne and I walked out, and I faced over a dozen soldiers with MP's. I could see armored personnel carriers, Humvees, and Ford Crown Victoria police cars parked on the street just outisde the apartment. the soldiers put me and Roxanne into the green Army police car and then we all drove off.
The U.S. Army police car stopped in front of the Army Detainee Center, the same one where I spent Wednesay night after my arrival here. But we were not put in a holding cell, nor wwere our fingerprints taken. We were put in an interrogation room.
"Captain Shays will be with you in a moment," said the sergeant who brought us in here. "make yourselves comfortable. I can bring some donuts."
The sergeant brought the two of us donuts and coffee from Krispy Kreme a few minutes later. I guess the Army brought us here so they can turn me over to the FBI.
"Don't worry, Roxanne," I said. "Everything will be fine."
So we ate the donuts and drank some of the coffee for the next few minutes. Then, the door opened, and a man in an Army uniform stepped inside. I was expecting FBI agents to accompany him.
But I saw Galen van Dahl instead. He was accompanied by this huge Negro with a gleaming gold incisor.
"What's going on?" I asked the Army man, whom I can tell was Captain Shays.
"I'm just turning over a squealer," said Shays. I looked into his face, and I remembered where I saw him before.
Two months ago, I ended up in a death camp in the Presidio in San Francisco. I was kept in a shack with a whole vbunch of other people who were believed to be traitors to their country. A guard came in and tried to take one of the female prisoners so he could rape her, but I stuck a sharpened piece of wood into his neck and killed him.
Captain Shays here happens to be a duplicate of that guard!
"Nice to see you again, Mallory," said Van Dahl. "We used to get along together so well. Too bad you had to betray me. You got careless, Mallory. One of the reasons your bosses paid you so much is so you can take the fall for them. But it will work out anyway. I kill you, and your bosses and I can continue to do business."
"Shays," I said, "Why are you working with him? I know why the President declared martial law. He is the enemy."
"The enemy was destroyed three years ago," said the captain. "Van Dahl's people are no threat to this nation. I was not sent here to fight him."
"Those terrorist gangs were waging war on the people of this neighborhood," said Van Dahl. "It wasn't safe to go out and buy tobacco and heroin. My people don't go around killing people simply because they wear the wrong color clothes. Those gangs were a threat to my business. They had to be eliminated. What I do is provide people with the goods and services they want. Tobacco. Cocaine. heroin. Women. And with soldiers occupying certain neighborhoods, business skyrocketed!"
"Mr. van Dahl has offered me a position in his company," said Shays. "As soon as my service obligatrion is finished, I will resign and work for him, and earn ten times what the Army pays me!"
"I don't hate you, Mallory," said Van Dahl. "Thought you were willing to betray your clients, I do not hate you. I sure won't be seething with rage against you when you are dead. It is too bad about the wife, though."
"What?" asked Roxanne.
"Those who turn agaist me, I not only destroy them, but their families as well," said Van Dahl. "I insist on doing business with those who are married or have kids. It gives my associates incentive not to swindle me or rat me out. It is a pity I have to kill her; she is so beautiful."
He then pulls out a pistol.
"You know," I said, "Congress outlawed firearms in the 1970's."
"And you know, white people don't get prosecuted for carrying firearms. They get a warning, and their gun back."
"You're a soldier!" shouted Roxanne to Captain Shays. "Do something! He's carrying a gun, and that's illegal!"
"It's not my job to enforce the gun laws," said Shays. "My job is keeping the peace."
"And how is allowing him to shoot her keeping the peace?" I asked.
"This won't go on any official report," the captain answered.
Van Dahl then put the barrel of the pistol against Roxanne's temple, and smiled. It seemed he did this before. He was so calm, seeing the fear in his victim's eyes, not expecting resistance.
Then I struck! I leaped and my fist, carrying the momentum of my body, made contact with Van Dahl's face. I then tuirned towards Captain Shays, who was unholstering his Beretta. I rammed right into him, causing him to fall into the gold-toothed Negro, and they both fell.
"Let's go," I shouted.
We ran through the hallway of the Detainee Center, and then we sprinted out of the lobby. We kept running until we went into a dark alley. I looked towards the Detainee Center. I saw an MP come out and look around for us, but he did not see us.
I assessed the situation. Whom can I trust? I wonder how many of the soldiers here would commit murder for Captain Shays. I wonder who among the LAPD, L.A. County Sheriff's Department, and FBI were aligned with Galen van Dahl.
Who is friend, and who is foe?
Suddenly, there was a loud voice coming from the loudspeakers on the street.
This is a lockdown. I repeat, this is a lockdown. all civilians are required to stay indoors. I repeat, this is a lockdown."
I did not have to know about this world's history to know that soldiers will be patrolling the streets, arresting anyone who refuses to cooperate. We his in a junk-strewn alley. A helicopter flew overhead. I dialed the FBI on Roxanne's cell phone.
"Hello?" asked the graveyard shift receptionist.
"Can you connect me to Agent Redfield?" I asked.
"He is not here."
"Tell him I am in the military occupation zone east of downtown. Galen van Dahl is working with an Army captain named Shays."
"Okay, sir, I've got it."
"So what now, Colin?" asked Roxanne. "Do we just sleep in this alley like bums?"
"We'll just have to hide until the Army cancels the lockdown. Of course, Captain Shays ordered this lockdown, and he might not lift it until I'm caught."
"But what?"
"You know, Shays will be after me, not you. You go escape."
"No, Colin. I'm sticking with you. I'll be on your side while you're here, unlike some other person who looks like you."
So Roxanne peeked around the corner of the alley with the street ahead. She signaled for me to go. I went out, and saw no military vehicles driving down the street. We walked down the sidewalk.
And then we saw a Humvee make a right turn, heading towards us. We quickly ducked behind a building, allowing the Humvee to pass.
We continued along the street, sticking close to the buildings. The only sounds were those of Army helicopters flying above us.
We saw a bunch of military vehciles parked on the street. It must be a random checkpoint, so we decided to go on another street.
I felt Roxanne's cell phone vibrate. It must be ringing.
"Hello, this is Colin Mallory," I said.
"Mr. Mallory, this is Agent Redfield," said the voice. "Listen, I'm at the main checkpoint to the Hollenbeck Military Occupation Zone on Whittier. It seems that Captain Shays ordered a lockdown of the sector. No one is allowed inside without his permission, not even FBI."
"He was trying to kill me," I said. "He's working with van Dahl."
"He is?" Redfield asked.
"Listen, can you send a helicopter over here?"
"Airspace over military occupation zones are closed when a lockdown is in effect."
Suddenly, Roxanne and I were illuminated in light.
"This is Captain Shays of the United States Army!" shouted a voice from the helicopter loudpeaker. "Lay down with your hands on top of your head."
Well, we did what we could only do.
Run.
We ran as fast as we could. Not that we could outrun a helicopter, but it would have to land before the soldiers in there could get us.
And then I heard something which sounded like a metal object bouncing off a steel lamppost at high speed.
"They're shooting at us!" shouted Roxanne.
"We have to take cover," I said. Then just ahead, I saw a bar that was still open. "In there!"
We both got inside.
the first thing I noticed was the smell of cigarette smoke. the place was crowded. There were a few civilians in here, and the rest were soldiers. Beer was served in pitchers.
This must be a tobacco house, where tobacco is sold to users. I saw two MP's standing by, armed with clubs, and it is clear that soldiers were providing security for the tobacco house.
We both went to the bar and ordered beer. The best thing to do is to blend in until we could figure out our next move. We both knew that Shays would order building-to-building searches.
"Hey babe," I heard someone say. I looked, and saw that those words came from a soldier on liberty.
"you talking to me?" asked Roxanne.
"Yeah, and noiw ain't you a sight. We don't get a lot of white ladies in this here joint. I never saw one here."
"Let me get you a drink."
Roxanne bought the guy a drink, as well as a cigarette. I wondered if my duplicate would be jealous of seeing his wife with this man here.
and then I saw them go out together. I wondered if Roxanne decided her marriage was over and to start seeing other men. I mean, her husband had been cheating on her, and left her here to be with some model from the Cayman Islands.
After a few minutes, Roxanne came back inside, alone.
"Colin," she said. "Come outside quick. I've got an idea."
I was just about to leave the bar when an Army police car came up. Some MP's. accompanied by Captain Shays, went inside the bar. I made sure he couild not get a good look at me.
Pretty soon, all the soldiers went outside and started walking around. I guessed they were looking for me.
Roxanne and I went out and walked to the Whittier Boulevard checkpoint. None of the soldiers at the checkpoint even batted an eye when we walked through.
After all, I was dressed like opne of them, ditching my expensive suit for combat fatigues.
"You're very brilliant," I said to Roxanne. "If only Colin could have known how valuable you are to anyone."
The next day were spent hiding out in a motel. No one had come looking for us. In the meantime, I called FBI Agent Redfield. I explained how I got away from the military occupation zone.
"We've just arrested Galen van Dahl," said Redfield. "You see, four of his thugs were in an automobile accident."
"They were chasing me," I said.
"One of them has agreed to talk. We placed him under witness protection. and there is other good news. The Army has arrested Captain Shays. He was already under investigation. Thanks to your actions, they now have proof. Now, Mallory, will you testify."
"I haven't discussed this with my attorney," I said.
"I understand. I'll put you under witness protection for a week until you decide. Just remember, should you choose not to testify, you will no longer be eligible for the witness protection program."
I spent the past day at the Beverly Hills home. the whole place was trashed by the thugs sent to kill me. I saw cars parked bearby, wjhich I figurted were FBI cars.
I decided to make one phone call.
"Hello," the other voice on the line said.
"Hello, Colin," I said.
"You're still alive?" he asked.
"Yes. Oh, Colin, by the way, you are being charged with fraud and insider trading. I advise you find yourself the best attorney you can afford."
"Well, you have to deal with it. I can just live here with my Isabel."
"I'll be gone tonight. And I made sure that the FBI will know where you have gone."
"there's no extradition treaty with the Caymans," said my duplicate.
"What about Galen van Dahl. He thinks you betrasyed him, and he's gonna come after you. No extradition treaty will stop him. IOf you come back to the United States, the feds will protect youi. But stay here, and you're on your own."
"Hand me that," said Roxanne. She spoke into the cell phone. "Colin, I'm leaving."
and she hung up.
Finally, it was time for me to go.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said. "I know my friends are looking for me. I'll reunite with them.
And then I felt as if I was weightless, as I traversed the barriers between dimensions.