The Gambit (60 page)

“Ian! Ian, come in here!” Sharon called from outside my office. I shot out of my desk chair and ran towards the door. I tried to imagine what I was going to see, but I had no idea. I should have been home right now, but Rachel told me to keep the news on at work. Sure, I could have stayed home and just sent out a mass email, but that wasn’t my style. If something was going to happen that my journalists needed to write about, I wanted to be there with them.

I swung open the door, and the moment I laid eyes on the many flat screens, I saw Owen standing in front of the anchor’s desk, and he was center screen.

“Someone turn up the volume!” I shouted.

All of my journalists were crowded around the TVs. I stood at the back of the group and watched bewildered as Owen yelled at the camera on national TV.

“I hope you heard everything I said loud and clear, America! Because if you didn’t, and if you believe these lies you’ve been given, we might go to a Confinement that never ends!”

I couldn’t help but smile. He did it. He fucking did it. He was trying to revive his party just before the election. I was no fool, but it worried me because so much damage had already been done. It would take a lot more than that to sway public opinion back to the way it was before the bombs at Georgetown.

“All right, everyone,” I began. “I want all of you writing. They will take this off the air any moment. There will be nothing to write about once they get ahold of it. We are watching history being made here, and everything else we have written about in the past week and a half, disregard it. As of now, we are going to push a new thought on the American People.”

“What’s that?” one of the younger, female journalists asked.

“That Owen Marina might be innocent.”

“Get him!” a security guard yelled from the far corner of the studio. There was another behind him with what looked to be a Taser outstretched towards me.

“Oh shit!” I yelled and ran back into the storage closet. I darted through blindly, nearly tripping over some boxes. I still had the maintenance keys I stole, and I tried to slam the door behind me to slow the guards down. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I sprinted through the hallway. I barreled toward the service elevator and began jamming the button over and over again. It was coming up from the ground floor. The guards rounded the corner, and I bolted farther down the hall until I found the stairwell.

“Put your hands up!” I heard one of them yell.

I have to hurry. They are right behind me
.

I practically slid down the steps I descended them so quickly, and I began looping around the flights of stairs with incredible speed. Adrenaline surged through my body. The energy I felt from having revealed every lie I knew on TV was unlike anything I had ever felt in my life. For the first time since my framing, I felt like I had
control
again. I had a choice over what I did next, and it was liberating. I wished I could have felt this forever, but deep down, I knew my freedom would be short-lived.

I glanced up through the opening in the stairwell, and I saw them two flights above me. I kept my speed as constant as I could. I had an advantage over the guards because they were not in as good shape as me.

Suddenly, I hit the ground floor and swung open the exit door. The refreshing lobby air hit me in the face as I sprinted across the marble floor.

“Move, move, move!” I shouted and waved my hands as I ran for the revolving door.

“Everybody get down!” the guards behind me demanded. As I neared the exit a bullet whizzed past me and barely missed. It shattered the glass, and the noise was earsplitting. I made it through the revolving door, and I gave it an extra shove as I exited. Whatever I could do to slow them down. Running down fifteen flights had me completely out of breath, and the chilly autumn air surrounded me. I didn’t stop. I continued to run down the street, but where did I have to go?

There were buildings lining the street to my right, and I saw a park to my left. I heard cop sirens echoing from every direction, and before I made my move into the park, they all began to converge on me.

Tahoes, Chargers, and Crowne Vics surrounded from every angle. Their tires screeched as they stopped, and I could smell the burnt rubber in the air. I turned around in a complete three-sixty and realized I was trapped. My heart pounded against my chest at an unbearable speed, and the midday sun beamed down on me, creating slight shadows between the buildings. I could only see blue sky for miles. The sirens were dizzying, and every which way I turned, I couldn’t avoid the sounds or lights. More and more cops pulled into the area, forming a large circle around me. They made a barrier I couldn’t escape.

Dozens of the officers stepped out of their cars, all with their guns raised. I very slowly began to raise my hands.

“Put your hands up!” the officer facing me shouted at the top of his lungs. I continued to raise them higher. Some of them were kneeling beside their patrol cars with automatic weapons against their shoulders. My hands were now above my shoulders, and I struggled to catch my breath. The liberation I felt from barging into the newscast was fading away, and was being replaced by a sinking feeling in my stomach. Had my mom’s message in my dream steered me down the wrong path? Should I have kept running forever, like Viktor?

I would never know. It was too late now. I had already made my choice, and there was no turning back. I hoped my mother was proud, and wherever my pops was, I hoped he felt the same.

“Get on the ground, now!” the same cop hollered even louder this time.

So,
this
was what it felt like. I was cornered and had nowhere to run. This was how Jamie Lee Curtis felt with Michael Myers only a few feet away. Except, there were a few dozen Michael Myers after me, and they all had weapons pointing in my direction. I had tried so hard to do what was right for this country, and this was what I got in return for all my effort. I could only wish that my stunt in the newscast was enough to bring our support back up. The Convergence Party
had
to win, or else, we will have lost everything as a nation. There would be no hope, no light left in the darkness to guide us out of the abyss. As nauseous as I felt, I had a sudden clarity of mind. I realized that this situation wasn’t just isolated to me. If
anyone
were to threaten the existing establishment, the same thing would have happened to them. If you give someone enough power, what will stop them from wanting
more?

“Owen Marina! Get on the
fucking
ground! Now!”

I wanted to fight, but I knew this was where my road would end if I did. That nagging feeling I have had since I met Rachel—that my road would be a short one, made sense now. It
all
made sense now. I loved her so much, and if I wanted to be with her again one day, I would have to submit. I would have to surrender. Rachel would write her story regardless. I hoped she would keep herself safe and not do anything stupid just for me.

Our story didn’t end here. It was far from over, but today,
today
was the end of mine.

The sirens were so loud I was beginning to go mad. We were parked along the road in front of Centennial Olympic Park. Grey was nervously tapping his fingers against the plastic interior of the car, just beneath the window. The taps were keeping pace with my racing heart, and it was unnerving. The air inside was too warm. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Each breath was deeper than the one before it. My hands were moist, and my stomach was in knots. Viktor was staring at the many people who were walking away from the park, trying to see what all the commotion was about in the street.

None of this felt right. He shouldn’t have to be behind bars. He did
nothing
wrong. I wanted to be with him so badly, even if that meant behind bars.