THE ASSASSINATION

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

*

*

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room.

DIANA

Diana ran to the window and pressed her nose against it.

No.

This is not right.

Can't be.

She’d read about the outside world in stories, but this is not how she’d pictured it at all. In the stories, which had pictures and paintings, the outside was bright, filled with lush vegetation, blossoming flowers, and architecturally designed buildings of chrome, glass and brick.

This scene was dismal. Even though it were midday the lighting was dull as if night were falling. A stream of smog drifted between the crumbling dirt coated buildings which pressed up to the narrow streets. The few people out on the street sidewalks wore masks because the air quality was so bad. The streets were filled with lines of older cars which coughed a sick, steady smoke, and barely moved even when the dim traffic lights changed colors.

“Diana,” came a voice from the hallway behind her.

She barely heard her name, was stunned by the sight of the land before her. It was not the land she read about in the books.

It could not be real.

It was like a scary dream.

A voice filled with relief came from the door, “oh, there you are honey. It’s almost time for your favorite learning time…. dance.”

She turned away from the window, ran to the man and jumped into his outstretched arms.

“Papa” she said, “Is that the outside?” she pointed at the window, her tiny voice filled with concern. “It doesn’t look like the pictures.”

“I know darling,” his voice carried a reassuring tone. “It is just a different part of the outside. When you get older you will be allowed to walk in it.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself to him. From down the hall came a hit song from her favorite animated movie. She loved to dance to this music. For now, the dismal dreariness of the land outside the window was forgotten.

Two men appeared at the end of the hall. They were dressed in pale blue shirts, dark pants and hats with bills that curved out over their eyes. Name tags were displayed above their left pockets and each of their belts had a thin stick and shiny bracelets attached to it.

“Mr. Taylor,” said the shorter man with the potato shaped head balancing on narrow shoulders.

The other man, 'Mr. Muscles', stepped off to the side, his hands clasped in front of him, focusing a stern look on the man called Taylor.

“Yes officers?” Taylor said.

“You have been invited to a meeting downtown. Now please.”

Her father hesitated a moment. “Very well,” he said, setting his daughter gently to the floor. “Honey, do you know the way to the classroom?”

She nodded, “yes Papa.” She hugged him tighter, looked into his eyes. What was it she saw in them? There was something in them she had never seen before.

He gave her a happy smile. His tone was pleasant, “run along now honey. Class is ready to start.”

She let go of his hand and the officers put their backs to the wall so she could pass.

“I love you,” he said reaching behind him and giving the door to his room a gentle push, making sure it was not latched.

She felt that something was wrong, but she began walking tentatively past the men. She heard the music from the far end of the hall, and it guided her towards the classroom. She saw some other dancers in their colorful costumes moving at the end of the hall in the direction of the music and she felt better. She turned and looked at her father who was waving and smiling at her. She waved at him and smiled happily as she skipped around the corner.

*

*

Mr. Taylor spoke respectfully to the men he knew as the enforcers. “What is this about please?” he said, knowing exactly why they were there. They must have learned he was with the resistance.

“That will be addressed at the meeting sir,” Mr. Potato Head said as he unhooked something from his belt. “I am required to put the bracelets on you sir. Sorry.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Taylor, his tone was one of utmost cooperation. He held his open hands out to the officer who looked down at the wrists in front of him and moved the ‘bracelets’ towards them.

The father looked at the other officer who was holding the thin dark stick ready. Taylor nodded and smiled to him. With his next breath, Taylor exploded forward with his palms against potato head's chest who stumbled backwards, tripping into the other man.

Taylor burst through the bedroom door towards the window which had been deliberately built larger than normal with a breakable glass, for exactly this type of situation. He must not be touched by the pain stick carried by the enforcer or he would instantly collapse into violent convulsions, and they would have him.

He accelerated across the room and through the glass, throwing himself out as far as he could. He’d previously rehearsed this flight in his mind, deliberately missing the arms of the tree to the left because they would slow his fall.

The concrete sidewalk came at him fast. He opened his arms so his face would absorb the full force of the impact.

There was an explosion of pain.

Then nothing.

*

*

JASON

“My name is Diana Taylor,” said the woman entering the room, “and I understand you’re not coming back.”

With her cap, ratty hair and nondescript, loose fitting, beige clothing Jason figured she was going for a ‘modern scruffy’ look.

Diana sat across from him at the small desk, said, “you won’t be coming back because currently time travel is one way.”

“Good," Jason snapped, "maybe I will start a life in the past which will be a hell of a lot better than this fucking place.”

After a short pause he said, “kind of funny, the best plan we can come up with is time travel into the past to assassinate the bad man.”

“We’ve considered overthrowing the current government but that would never succeed,” Diana said. “The president is only viewed on monitors and if we did kill him, so what? His family is entrenched as the ruling body and the reign of terror would continue.”

Still looking at the papers on the desk she said, “travelling into the past and erasing the person most responsible for our suffering is our best chance. At this point, the government would never expect this type of attack because they don’t know we have that technology.”

Jason said looking at her suspiciously, “and just how did the resistance get this technology?”

She answered without hesitation. “Basically, we have a network of brilliant people, both in and out of the government, helping us. Our spies, scientists in the government’s system passed the newly developed technology to us first. It will be passed to the government, which is now just a step behind us, soon.”

“By the way,” she said, “we found a tracking bug on you. At first, our outdated scanner system missed it. We sent the tracking device on another trip which will lead the enforcers deep into the mountains if they decide to follow it. We believe you were not prioritized because had you been targeted the enforcers would already be here.”

She pushed a clear, plastic cup with a dark liquid in it towards him across the narrow desk, said, “nutrients to help you on the journey, energy, brain food, miscellaneous good stuff.”

Jason took a hefty gulp from the glass figuring it wasn’t poison or they would have already killed him.

“You know,” she said, “the experts say we can’t change the past.”

“That was covered in the last meeting, and I don’t care what ‘they’ say,” Jason said. “I believe the past can be changed. Logic says that if I get back there and kill someone, the past is changed.”

After a pause Diana, still not looking directly at him, said, “if approved you leave in a couple hours. That way there is less chance of an information leak.”

“This stuff still tastes like crap,” he said looking into the glass. Then with a trace of irritation in his voice, he said, “I’m leaving in a couple hours?” He shook his head in disbelief.

Jason finished the liquid, grimaced and slapped the cup down on the table.

Diana waited a moment, “also, you will have a partner on this mission.”

Jason’s eyes opened wide, “wonderful! You folks are full of surprises. This is the first I’ve heard about having a partner.”

“The reason you are just finding out is,” Diana said inserting a small pause, “that the less you know about the mission until the last moment, the safer we all are. Do you object to having a partner?”

“Not if it’s you.”

She gave him a sly look, said, "it is."

Jason paused, gathering himself. “Look, I’ve been to all the meetings. I know I am to assassinate a powerful leader. I understand the coupe type overthrow of our ‘democracy’ in the past and President Cooper’s role in it. Of all the people in our country’s history, he is the one dubbed primarily responsible for our country’s irreversible, downward spiral. I am versed on the policy changes under his leadership and their damage to healthcare, human rights, the environment, and the lower and middle classes. I know that once the elections were rigged so one party always won, they were still holding sham elections for a couple decades until our ‘democracy’ morphed into an authoritarian type of government.”

He paused, said, “all I care about is that the government’s inadequate healthcare policies are responsible for the slow, painful death of my daughter, and, I am sure, the suffering of many others.”

For the first time since she’d entered the room, she looked directly at him, and the focus of her soft, blue eyes struck him full force.

With a gentle understanding in her voice, Diana said, “Jason, I want you to know how sorry I am for the loss of your daughter.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “Karina passed away just three weeks ago. My wife left me after she died to find someone wealthy to marry and I don’t blame her. I have nothing left. I am angry, mad enough to kill and I want to kill the person responsible for my daughter's death.”

The silence hung in the room.

Diana said quietly, “I lost my father when I was six. He threw himself out of a fourth story window rather than undergo a torturous interrogation by the enforcers. I have been with the resistance pursuing his ‘justice’ since the age of fifteen.”

For the first time, his manner softening, Jason said, “I am sorry,”

They paused for a moment, as if out of respect for the loss of their loved ones.

Jason closed his eyes, sat back in his chair and saw the face of Karina, drained of color, barely able to move, as she lay weak and helpless in her bed.

He was not able to obtain her needed medication anywhere because his insurance had suddenly been cancelled. God knows he tried, but he couldn’t find the proper drug even in the extensive, black-market system.

Karina’s sleep was very restless at that time, and he believed that even in her sleep she was suffering. In desperation, he ventured into the deserted streets one night to find pain medicine. He found several ‘maybe dead’ people, checked their pockets and finally, found the medication he needed.

He tried to numb her against whatever monster it was that she was battling. He thought that in her unconscious state she was still experiencing, at the very least, a horrid discomfort, because with the little strength she had left, she was moaning and gasping, fighting against a persistent, steady torment.

When she finally passed, leaving the horror of her short life behind, he was thankful.

He opened his eyes and said, “I am ready.”

*

*

ARRIVAL IN BOULDER

Other than some delightful vomiting in the park when they landed, the trip through time had gone without incident. They arrived at the hotel about 1 pm the day before the rally.

“Kind of funny that the highest tech weapon we could come up with was a knife,” Jason said once they'd entered their room.

Diana responded, “we didn’t have a lot of time once we learned of the presidential rally, and we needed a weapon which could time travel. The knife was constructed from a material which travels through time well. Purchasing a gun once we arrived was not an option because gun sales in metro Denver were illegal for seven days prior to the rally.

Jason took out the knife to practice. The grip, formed for his hand size fit nicely. He snapped the knife loose of the plastic sheath, noticed it was only about four and a half inches long.

Dianna said as she watched him make some slicing moves at the air, “you are likely to chop a finger off playing around with it like that. The blade is extremely sharp, sharper than you can imagine, on both edges. I practiced plenty with a dummy dagger back in the future. It had the same weight, length, grip, everything. I am now," she said pleasantly, "a trained killer.”

She changed direction, asked, “did they teach you about the pill?”

“What pill?”

“The bye bye pill,” Diana said waving bye bye to him. “I am making light, but the pill takes you out forever. Night night.”

“This is important,” she said, pausing until he stopped making slicing motions with the knife and was focusing on her message. “Do NOT get captured because you will be tortured. If this government learns assassins are coming back from the future, they will add more layers to their security. It is important you don’t hesitate to swallow the pill if the threat of capture is possible.”

She pulled out the small pill box set it on the corner table, said casually, “when you want to die, take one pill, from your front, left pants pocket, throw it in your mouth and swallow. The pill itself is coated and will take 3 minutes for total, irreversible unconsciousness to occur.”

“Another option, if you are hitting a critical moment in the action, you can put the pill in your mouth and hold it securely between your back molars while the situation plays out. In the mouth the pill will begin to release the harmful chemicals in 30 minutes.” Diana spit the pill out into her hand. “If you don’t need to die yet, you can always spit it out. Got it? You have 30 minutes to decide to spit the pill out, or to die. I repeat...30 minutes.”

Diana said, “we need to be up before the sun so I’m turning in.”

They flicked off the lights over their beds and barely slept.

*

*

THE ATTACK

The plan was simple, Diana would be the bait, and the morning of the attack she looked absolutely stunning. Gone was her ‘modern scruffy’ look, and in with the gorgeous Diana.

She wore tight, powder blue jeans with skin showing through the designer placed tears, calf high tan boots with the furry sheep type material around the top, a see through, tight red blouse which showed generous cleavage, and a bright white blazer over that. The shape of her breasts could be clearly seen as they pushed out against the sheer material.

Diana as the bait, Jason thought, was the strongest part of the whole plan. She just needed to be somewhere near the president’s path and President Cooper, as he was known to do, would definitely be going in for the hug, and Diana would finish him.

“They’ll have camera’s everywhere,” Diana said, “probably snipers, secret service, listening devices. The hotel is the vulnerable point, and the major defenses will be concentrated there.”

Jason thought a moment, said, “It is the only place we are reasonably certain of the President's location. It is our best chance.”

“They could have lied to the public about this hotel,” Diana said.

“Yes, but if not at the hotel, we probably won’t get him. This whole plan is based on educated guessing, a great deal of luck and your good looks.”

She ignored the last comment, said, “the government agents are probably watching the early crowd arrivals closely since assassins are most likely to be among the early ones. We should split up."

“True,” he said, scanning the thin stream of people near the hotel. The secret service was easy to spot, dressed in dark suits and stern demeanors. They were standing by the entrance to the hotel, and strung along behind the concrete barricades, studying the growing crowd.

Mixed among the two-story shops across the street from the hotel entrance were small, sloped hills. Small trees and flower beds dotted the slopes.

Jason had selected his position across the street directly in front of the hotel entrance the day before. There was one place where the hills did not slope away, but tipped slightly towards the one way, one lane street which passed the front of the hotel entrance. Jason's plan was to jump for the top of the limo, slide across it and cut the president before a sniper bullet, or an agent killed him.

Great plan, he thought.

At least, he would be a major diversion and if Diana was near the president, she would get him.

The funny part was that as primitive as a knife attack on the president was, it could work. It was unexpected and simple. That was a strength.

What the plan really depended on was Diana’s beauty and that was its greatest strength because she was drop dead gorgeous.

The streets were filling fast. The sun was out, and the temperature was comfortable, hovering around seventy.

Jason realized that jumping to the top of, or over the car might cause him to bite down on the pill beginning the death process. Chances are he would need to take the pill anyway. Getting through this with his life was highly unlikely.

His stomach was tight, starting to cramp. He tried to ignore it.

Jason sat down on the small hill and gauged the distance again. The street was narrow, and he could easily jump onto the roof of a car parked in front of him. The street would be empty of cars until the presidential limos parked by the entrance.

Because they’d arrived so early Diana was already in place. If the President came out of this entrance she would be on his right side. President Cooper would have to pass right near her on his way to the limo.

Jason noticed an agent wearing a bright red tie, standing like a statue directly across the street from him. The agent put on his sunglasses.

He felt the agent’s focus on him. He seemed suspicious.

Crap.

There were more agents in the area strung along the wooden and concrete barriers, blocking people back from the president’s path to his limo.

Screw Mr. Red Tie. This place was their best chance.

Diana had a good spot. Men were pressed up against her, surrounded her.

Naturally.

There were only a few women in that area and Diana stood out of the crowd, even at that distance. Yep. Cooper would definitely be going in for the hug.

He took a moment and thought that Diana’s life would have been great in a different time. There was a time in history when brains, determination and beauty parted the waters to a dreamy life.

Oh well.

She didn't see him, but Jason was glad he could check her position. She looked over her shoulder at a man, pressed back against him and flashed him a heart melting smile. The man responded with a goofy grin. She touched his arm.

Good, Jason thought. This guy was now part of her army and would protect her spot against the surge of the crowd.

Even from across the street Diana radiated desirability. Her blonde hair, shapely physique and bright clothing were dangerously eye catching.

Jason looked for the agent that had been watching him. No surprise but Mr. Red Tie had moved closer to Diana.

Under the guise of watching the crowd, Red Tie was subtly edging in her direction. Then, it looked like he was talking to her. She leaned in close to him, tipped her head back and laughed. For the first time that day, Red Tie smiled.

Good, Jason thought, they had a chance.

The sidewalks and the hillsides were full. He was at the front edge of the little cliff.

Down the street came a growing wave of cheers and excitement crackled in the air. At least ten police in light blue shirts, and gleaming, white helmets turned onto the street riding shining motorcycles. A dark limousine with tinted windows appeared behind them and moved slowly towards the hotel. There was another limo behind that one, and then another.

Jason figured he'd need enough room to make a run and jump. He’d get maybe a couple steps. It would be enough.

The first limo rolled slowly past. The second limo stopped in front of the entrance. The agents lined along the barricades, stood like statues, only their heads swiveling to watch the crowd. After a few minutes, the entrance doors to the hotel opened, and the crowd, including Diana, pushed up against the concrete barriers which formed an aisle from the hotel entrance to the car.

President Cooper appeared. He raised his arms and waved to the fans. There was a rising crescendo of cheers spreading outward through the crowd from the hotel entrance.

Diana, to Cooper’s right side, was smiling happily, waving wildly with a seductive enthusiasm. The President scanned the faces of the crowd, took a step forward, nodding and smiling, drinking in the adulation. The agents surrounded the President in a small pocket of space where he could move freely.

For a moment it looked like Cooper was headed for the limo, and then, he saw her, and Diana grew even more excited, waving and jumping, flashing her smile, oozing desirability.

The time was right. Jason imagined the face of his suffering daughter as he pushed back a couple steps into the crowd, getting ready to make his move.

The President was moving in for the hug. Jumping up and down, Diana threw her arms out towards him.

Jason leapt and hit hard on the limo roof, slid across the top. He realized he’d swallowed the pill at the same time he realized he would get near the President. Cooper held the hug a moment too long, turned slowly towards the sudden, frantic action. The agents closed around the President and Jason slammed into them trying to stab through the barrier of bodies. He got an arm through, cut something but couldn’t tell what he’d hit.

The full force of the strong, well-trained agents was now focused on him. They had his knife arm and the colors exploded into a blur. There was a hurricane of force, and he was on the bottom of a pile of churning bodies. He could barely breathe, couldn’t move. The knife was twisted from his hand. There was an incredible weight on his chest. His arms were being twisted into unnatural positions and the lack of air caused a searing heat in his lungs. The pain was horrific. He tried to scream but could get no air.

Why was the pill not working? Shouldn’t he be dead by now?

Thankfully. Whether it was from the lack of oxygen or the pill doing its job, the pain, the colors, and the sounds began to fade.

Mercifully, he fell into the darkness.

*

*

She looked back into the churning crowd, the pile of people. She knew Jason was under there. He was at the mercy of the agents, who looked wildly possessed. She hoped he’d taken his pill.

The president had hugged her, grabbed her breast which she’d generously presented, and that was when she pressed the knife into his abdomen and pulled it hard. The President was jerked away from her, and she was expelled out from the area, landing on her back. She scrambled backwards, stood and pushed through the crowd.

She dropped the knife in a nearby trash can on her way to the hotel. They’d figure out later that there were two assassins. So what?

She thought she’d cut him deep, maybe twelve inches across. Throat would have been better. Too late now.

*

*

When she got back to her room, she turned on the television and watched as she peeled off the flashy clothes and placed them in a black garbage bag. She slid into her baggy, beige sweats. She’d throw the black bag out in a minute.

There was a “BREAKING NEWS” banner below the anchor. She turned up the volume.

“President Cooper was killed today at his campaign rally in Boulder Colorado at approximately noon, mountain time. As he was leaving the hotel, the President was attacked by a young male in his twenties with a knife. The motive for the attack is unknown.”

The picture flashed to the limo and the churning crowd.

“The President was taken to the medical center and passed away within thirty minutes of the attack. We have a reporter on the scene.”

The reporter holding the microphone was standing with the crowds and the hotel behind him.

“Nothing is yet known about the attacker who died at the scene of the crime of undetermined causes. We did learn his weapon was made from an unknown type of material the police had not seen before.”

The reporter paused, and a clip of the attack ran on the screen as he continued. The clip clearly showed a woman being knocked out of the frantic action surrounding the President. The woman scrambled backwards out of the picture.

The reporter said, “the police are looking for a woman who was closest to the president at the time of the attack. They believe she could be an important witness and was wearing a white blazer. If you have any knowledge of her location, please contact the police information line at 800 522 5000.”

She turned the volume off and sat on the bed.

There was a knock on the door, and she immediately looked at the small box of ‘bye bye’ pills she’d left on the corner table.

The knocking grew louder, a voice called out, “police.”

Already? she thought. Maybe the front desk had called her in.

Diana secured a pill between the molars in the back of her mouth and walked to the door.

She figured she had thirty minutes to decide.