Demon Accords 6: Forced Ascent (39 page)

“Right, Mr. President,” she said, still watching me.

“Do you know why, Mr. Gordon?” he asked.

“Because your ratings are already in the dirt and the public would demand impeachment… Mr. President?” I offered, keeping it civil.  After all, he was calling me
mister
; the least I could do was use his title.  But I would only do the least.

He frowned, just a flash, but it was there.  “Because you are a disruptor, Mr. Gordon.  Like Google or Apple has done with the Internet and personal electronics, only you disrupt the smooth flow of society.  You’ve disrupted countless lives, caused untold nightmares for the citizens of this nation—hell, the citizens of the world.  Exposing the monsters that hunt the darkness to the light of day.  Have you any idea how many people are suddenly too terrified to leave their homes for fear of demons, werewolves, or vampires?  It’s epidemic—a society-wide psychosis that is crippling businesses, schools, and government.”

“Yeah, and it was all her idea,” I said, looking at Alexis.  She blanched, her face going white for a moment before red flushed the white away.

“It was a threat, Gordon. I didn’t actually do it,” Alexis said.  The President frowned at her and she stopped talking.

“Let’s be real, Mr. President.  I didn’t reveal anything that wasn’t already exposed by the media.  I just put names to it and offered explanations. Oh, and saved countless lives, including your own, in the process, all while you tried to kill me.”

“Let’s talk about that a bit.  It was your interview that forced Homeland Security to grab Agent Duclair and cause her to reveal her… bad side.  Then you proceeded to destroy much of downtown Washington and then attacked the sworn agents and officers of this nation,” he said.

“Do you honestly think anyone who watched the coverage live is buying any of that?” I asked.  “Or do you think that instead, they see a President who has been ineffectual at protecting the nation from the greatest threat it has ever seen.  A President who couldn’t protect himself.  And now you have me locked up down here, while Hell is free to send its legions through any and all gates.”

“Actually, what the nation is seeing this morning are teams of government agents, led by Oracle’s technicians, who are cleaning up and shutting down the few gates that did open last night, while you and your vaunted supernaturals are nowhere to be seen.  You abandoned the American people last night in their hour of need, but alas, the vision you painted never came to be.  Only a handful of gates opened last night, and just a few demons came through.  All stopped by the heroic efforts of the men and women of Homeland Security and Oracle.  You see, Gordon, nobody knows that you fell into Hell or that you somehow came back.  They just know that you left them in the lurch.  But I reassured the nation from the Oval Office that all was under control, demonstrating the leadership that they needed to see.”

“An Oval Office that was only there because we saved it, and if Hell didn’t break loose here last night, it was because
we
were keeping it busy,” I said, anger rising even though I knew that’s what he was trying to do.

“Well, I do thank you for stopping that demon before it could get to the White House, but I don’t think you saved me.  I was secure and protected.  And now, because of Oracle’s technology, we are demonstrating how only the government can keep the nation safe,” he said.

“In fact, you have provided a unique opportunity.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to get anything done in this government?  Those idiots in Congress oppose me at every turn.  Can’t pass a law to save my life.  But then you arrive with this massive threat—an enemy so alien that people set aside their beliefs and politics to come together and fight it.  It’s a beautiful thing, Gordon.  You and your people may have kept Hell too busy to send more forces through, but the citizens of this country, hell, the citizens of the world, listened to your little pep talk and worked together to get through the night.  And now after you’ve abandoned them, they’re turning to me… as they should.”

“Never let a crisis go to waste?” I asked. “Lucky thing you failed to kill me with that missile, then.”

“Well, you’re wrong about that.  I never attempted to kill you.  Here you are under lock and key and I haven’t ordered you executed, have I?  No.  You think running this country, this government is easy?  There are organizations and divisions that don’t answer to me.  Groups set up by law… sealed law, that run outside the Executive Office, that run outside of politics.  Their job is to protect the Republic.  And I would say that at least one of them has identified you as a threat to the country.”

“More AIR,” I said.

“Agents in Rebus was a privately funded group.  What I’m talking about are legal, black budget groups charged with using every means possible to guard the nation.”

“And so they’re likely to know about this and where we are.  You’re offering us up as either bait or a sacrifice.”

“Let’s just say that I’ve reached an agreement with them to back off for the time being. That maybe we can use you as an asset.  They’ve given me some time to figure that out.”

Alexis was pulled aside by a uniformed officer, who spoke with her quietly for a moment.  Her expression locked down, but for a moment, a glimmer of shock had flashed across it.  She turned back to her boss, pulling him down and whispering into his ear.

It gave me time to think about Garth’s words.  History belongs to the victors.  Gramps used to say that quote from time to time, usually after reading some crap in a paper or watching the news.  It was true.  Whoever controlled the media and the official recording of history would write the details that the nation would eventually come to believe.  A simple fact of human nature: we believe what people in authority tell us. Frankly, most people don’t want to look too closely for the truth.  Despite the noble origins of journalism, today’s reality is that the government controls the media and the media controls what we read, hear, and see.  With us locked away and a story being told of our abandonment, while video showed Oracle cleaning up the mess, we would be discredited and then forgotten.  Old news.

I was trussed up and rigged to explode, and all my people were as well.  Stuffed into the most secure basement on the planet.  His words had gotten to me, painting a bleak picture.  Grim surged below the surface, sensing my panic.  Options rolled across my consciousness; violent options that promised revenge but not salvation.  Despite the depleted uranium and the shackles and the explosives, I could still bring down the heavens.  Make the sky fall as it were, but it wouldn’t save my friends.  Grim offered up the concept that nobody lives forever.  Why not chose your death—go out with a bang and take your enemies with you? 

I wavered for a moment, considering my dark half’s ideas… and ultimately rejected them.  It was early yet.  The kamikaze approach was not my answer—not yet.

Garth straightened up, struggling to contain a sudden anger, trying to keep his expression blank.  He turned his eyes on Nathan Stewart and General Tobias Creek.  Giving me one last dark look, he walked away, pointing his arm at the Director and the General.  “You two with me.  I need you to help me understand something,” he said, voice frigid.  The three walked away into the darkness, surrounded by bodyguards.

Alexis Bishop kept watching me for a moment.  I couldn’t read her expression.  Was there anger mixed with disbelief, with a dash of resignation?  Or was it a calculating regard, analyzing my uses?  She turned and followed the others, disappearing into the gloom, leaving me alone with my own dark thoughts and my small army of guards.

Chapter 34

I lost track of time, locked away deep below the surface.  But I kept busy.  I looked over my prison, studying it carefully for weaknesses.  There were a few.  First, they had used a lot of depleted uranium in the design.  Hell, why not?  The government had something like 750,000 metric tons of it in storage, waste from reactor operations, and it was pretty useful for weapons.

I’ve done my homework on it and found out some things about DU. Namely that it is both self-sharpening and also pyrophoric.  That means the metal fractures when it impacts a hard target in such a way that the projectile remains sharp. The fractures release dust, which self-ignites in the presence of oxygen.  Then it burns at like 10,000 degrees.  The pyro side of me was intrigued.  I mean yeah, it’s poison to me but still, that’s kinda neat.  Shoot a projectile that’s almost twice as dense as lead and it will sharpen itself as it cuts through steel armor then ignite on the other side, burning everything and anything. 

At first, that seemed extra bad, to be sitting on a flammable base of dense metal that would most likely ignite when the mini-guns fired.  But after a bit of thought, I changed my mind, deciding it might be useful.

While I was thinking about that, I kept busy.  The massive bolts through the floor were hardened steel, bolted from the bottom with big nuts—insert childish joke of your choice here.  I loosened them.

Vampire energy doesn’t emit particles like my aura does.  I’m certain of that because my friend Chet has tested it three ways from Sunday.  We still don’t know what it is, but it’s not particle emissions.  So I wiggled the bolts, covering the activity by sitting up or lying down like I couldn’t get comfortable, which was true.  Nothing much happened at first, but I kept at it.  There wasn’t anything better to do besides checking my mental links to Tanya and Stacia periodically.  I alternated bolts, first the one in front by my legs, then the one in back.  Finally, I felt the big nuts under the metal floor loosen (more jokes here; knock yourself out).

Lying there, eyes closed, senses extended through the Lexan and under the floor.  Push. Pull.  When it was loose, I just Pushed.  After something that felt like four or five hours, the nuts were about to fall off, held on with just a trace of threads, and I was getting really hungry again.

I hadn’t worked out all the details yet, but felt I had a strong chance of cutting the metal collar with the Sword almost at the moment I pulled it from its pocket universe.  If I could clip it at the receiver part of the collar and avoid the DU part (self-igniting metal over explosive—not good), I’d be free to move about.  Grim was confident of that, even pointing out to me the section of the collar that was sending and receiving signals.  If I concentrated on it long enough, I could just sort of feel that he was right.  It was an odd, itchy feeling I hadn’t experienced before—but then, I’d never tried to feel or listen for radio waves before, either.

At that point, I would jump straight for the center of the glass ceiling, trusting the Sword to cut through the Lexan as I Pulled myself up using the metal girders high overhead.  That
should
get me out of the mini-guns’ arc of fire, maybe without getting hit at all. A few rounds through the legs wouldn’t kill me and stray rounds should ignite the flooring, which would be a big distraction for the guards and equipment.  After dealing with the guards, or even
while
dealing with the guards, I’d have to destroy the collar controls and rescue my people.  There were lots and lots of holes in this plan.  If one collar signal was lost, did that trigger the others?  Would burning DU trigger the sensors and explode the other collars?  Could I actually get through the ten-inch-thick Lexan fast enough to avoid the mini-guns? I didn’t even know where the others were being held.

I didn’t have answers for those questions, and so I was paralyzed by lack of information.  My guards and technicians spoke very little amongst themselves, but occasionally a tech would comment on some system check or another.  I listened hard when they did.

“Link array verified, all sensors nominal… wait… there’s some excess vibrations in both alpha and bravo containment,” one tech said, sitting a little straighter.  That didn’t sound good. The other tech got up and started toward my cell.  My pod was raised off the concrete floor on metal columns.  If he squatted even a bit, he’d see the loosened bolts.

I flopped slightly in my chains, moving my numb ass as much as I could and praying that Tanya would choose to do the same.

“Wait… it’s just their movements.  Bravo moved almost at the same time and it’s a match for the sensor output,” the first tech said.

“Couldn’t tell me that before I got up?”

“Aww, it’s good for ya.  Keep ya from getting blood clots,” the first replied.

“Just don’t talk about blood around the other pods.  Some of
them
are looking pretty hungry,” the second said.

That was another point to consider.  Other than a sip from my arm, none of the vampires in my group had fed in the better part of a day.  If they’re just lying around, a healthy vampire could go a couple of days without blood.  But actively fighting multiple demons and taking a cross-country tour of Hell constituted a lot of activity.  My time was running out.  Soon we’d all be too weak to get free.

“We’ve got a bluetooth alignment coming up in about fifteen seconds.  You need to get back in your seat,” the first tech said.

“There’s just no pleasing you.  Up, down, up, down. All hot and bothered about my blood clots. God, Barry, it’s like you’re my wife’s clone or something,” the second one said.  Two of the guards chuckled, very softly, but I heard it.  Those poor bastards had been standing in place for hours; they had to be cramping up.  Occasionally the sergeant in charge would detail one man from each line to do a sweep halfway around the pod, each ending up on the opposite side.  It still had to suck.