The Crimson Fall (The Sons of Liberty Book 1) (11 page)

“Sure,” Max said. “For one, it’s too perfect.”

“What do you mean by that?” Adam asked.

“Forget about what we don’t know about the Chambers System. Let’s look at what we do know. We have what, seven or eight different biometric tests that we know about. Three eye scanners at the back that can accurately examine a person’s retina from ten feet away. It has x-ray scanners on the trigger and grip so delicate and precise that they can detect a thumb and palm print through an inch of solid steel. We have bullets coded to specific magazines, which are then encoded to a specific gun, which is finally assigned to accept only a certain owner’s biometrics once the gun is registered. The frame has a minimum of twelve quantum compass tracking devices printed into it that send out a ping every second. It’s a one-way signal that can only be accessed once the owner uses their retina scan, palm print, and voice authentication at a local police station to locate the weapon. The guns are practically free with the volunteer program, and they expect, as do I, one hundred million units to be exchanged by the end of this coming summer. To put that little part into perspective, that’s at least a fourth of all civilian guns in America. At the same time, they’re ready to replace every military rifle in our arsenal within a year, though I’m sure that will be a much harder uphill battle.”

“You can bet your ass that Fort Bragg won’t be giving up her weapons anytime soon,” Jackson said sharply.

“You might not have a choice if this treaty is passed,” Adam said, though the general only frowned back in return. “What else can you tell us, Max?”

“Well the program is co-financed by the world’s superpowers, who fund it by using the tax dollars collected from the sales of the guns and the business taxes on the factories that print the damn things. From what I figure, the incoming taxes to support the program will be more than the actual manufacturing costs. So in case you missed it, I’m saying the government will actually
make
money with the program. It’ll be the newest great invention to score big. Only this time the government is a shareholder and has somehow managed to create wealth without needing to raise taxes on the rich or poor. And so . . . that’s what I mean. It’s too perfect.”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Adam said. “How is it being ‘too perfect’ a problem?”

Max looked around as though they were fools for not understanding his point and eventually laughed and threw up his hands.

“It’s the federal government for crying out loud! Name one thing they have ever done that worked out this well.”

“Oh come on,” Congresswoman Williams said with a roll of her eyes. “The United States government is more than capable of implanting a successful program.”

Max sat back and shook his head before continuing. “Look, you asked, and that’s what I have to say. They’re the same people that ran the Postal Service into the ground, the same people that created a federal healthcare program that didn’t work, and the same brilliant minds behind the common core debacle that’s only made our kids less competitive on the global market. It never, ever is this perfect. As a businessman, and a damn good one at that, I can tell you that this program was not thought up by the government. Someone else has to be behind it.”

“Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Rob Bruger said, “but it’s not as perfect as you may think.”

“How so?” Adam asked.

“The design is flawed,” he said. “Or at least I think it is. I don’t know for certain, but I got an anonymous tip that encouraged me to look closer at the potential of the encrypted software that manages each gun and the subsequent possibility of a complete hardware failure. I always like to look at the pros and cons of something before I accept or reject it, and honestly I see one major potential con that I’m having a hard time looking past.”

“And what’s that, Senator?”

“I’m no expert,” he said humbly, though everyone in the room knew Rob was an expert in just about everything he studied, “but I’ve spent the last month studying the hardware capabilities and the software that controls it, all the while looking for a weakness in the way they interact with each other. So like you said, we have biometric scanners, encoded ammunition, quantum compass units, and everything else we would need to keep our guns out of the hands of the wrong people and then disabled if they are lost. But what about before they’re stolen?”

“What do you mean?” Adam asked. “Are you suggesting they’ve actually hidden something in the hardware?”

“No, I’m just saying it’s too fragile of a system. I mean, I know the quantum compass devices can only send out signals, but what makes you so sure the gun can’t receive a signal as well?”

“That’s all been tested before,” David said. “The guns can only be tracked. They can’t receive signals whatsoever.”

“None that we know about,” Rob countered. “But think about it. What if we’re wrong about that? What if, just what if, someone could send out some code-altering signal to a device that needed that unaltered code in order fire? Would the guns work anymore? If not, what could they do with over one hundred million military and civilian guns out of commission?” He paused, leaned back in his chair, and appeared to mumble his final question to himself. “Hell, what couldn’t they do?”

The question lingered precariously in the room. No one spoke as they contemplated the repercussions of Rob’s dangerous allegations. Suddenly, Adam wondered if he had been looking in the wrong place the entire time. Eventually, the others continued on, as did he, but no one was really able to add much more than what had already been suggested. The night grew old and ultimately everyone parted ways, unable to come to a consensus on what to do next. As unproductive as the meeting might have seemed to the others, Adam couldn’t help but turn the idea over and over in his head of what Rob had claimed. Gene had said to be able to track an enemy would give someone the ability to outmaneuver him, but Adam was beginning to think that the true purpose of the new guns was not for the government to merely watch the movement of its armed citizens. He wondered if their goal the entire time had been to disarm anyone who dared to fight back. And if that was the goal, then Adam couldn’t help but wonder what Lukas was really planning for the United States. Adam was starting to believe he had finally unearthed the secret his brother had died for, and Rob’s final question kept turning over and over in the back of his mind.

What couldn’t they do?

C
hapter
S
ix

The Bylaws of Freedom

The vote had not yet begun, and already Lukas was wearing a triumphant grin for the ages. He watched the Senate on his wall-sized television as he lounged back in the plush bed, enjoying a glass of red wine from the comfort of the Lincoln Bedroom, confident that his revolutionary ambitions for control were about to be reinforced by the law of the land. The latest polls indicated that nearly eighty percent of Americans approved of the treaty. He had known from the start that he wouldn’t get them all, but for the most part he felt as though he had seized a victory for the Patriarchs, despite the few opponents who had proven to be a nuisance. With mid-term elections a mere eight months away, the one thing Lukas could count on most in Washington were politicians’ unwavering propensity to appease their constituents.

“Do we really need to watch the entirety of the vote, my love?” Maria asked before sipping from her crystal glass.

Lukas closed his eyes and stifled a lengthy yawn, but he was quick to open them wide again. He had not lessened the persistence of his campaigning in those final weeks leading up to the vote. He had not wanted to merely win the vote. He had fought for a landslide victory—one that the nation could rally behind—and if he shut his eyes now for more than a fleeting moment, they would likely remain closed until morning.

“This is one of the last hurdles of my thirty-year quest,” he said. “I would keep my eyes open if I were forced to use staples.”

“Well, there is no need to mar that face of yours. We both know how it will end,” she said. “In fact, we knew before we started years ago. They will enact their own inability to resist change, as they so often have, and they will be forced to abandon their madness once and for all.”

“Is that what this is about?” Lukas asked. “Are we here solely to create an inability to resist change? I suppose that is the primary goal of the treaty, if we were to look at it in black and white, but I do not see myself as a warden or the coming world as a prison. I see myself as a father ruling over all sorts of shades of gray. Sure, there will be those who fight back, and yes, they will discover they have no option but to don the chains of fate, but the majority will see things our way and run into our open arms. So no, the average man will not be a prisoner of ours. They will be children rewarded for their good deeds. I mean to give the people a new, lasting hope. More than anything, I suppose, I see us as the parents of unruly children, and though we will one day live in unity with one another, I do suppose that sometimes in order to discipline the children we love it is necessary to first show them the back of the hand.”

Maria smiled and sat up, giving her husband a graceful kiss. “Is that what we are to be?” she asked. “Are we to be parents?”

Lukas laughed. “Though I do look forward to meeting the heirs you will give me one day, I am more concerned about building my throne before I am even king.”

Her smile disappeared and she rose from the bed.

“Careful Lukas that you do not overstep yourself again.”

“What do you mean ‘overstep myself’?” he asked, irritated at her sudden mood swing.

“You saw what Sigmund did in Switzerland. You have to know that you are not irreplaceable. None of us are. I love you, and I want to know a new world as badly as you do. I want to be a light to the world and shed this place of hatred so that we
all
may govern this world together.”

“What did I say that makes you think otherwise?”

“You’re not king, Lukas!” she shouted, even though her raised voice seemed soft and caring. “You’ll never be a king. None of us will. This is not our attempt to seize a throne. We may live as kings and queens afterwards, but we will rule together, as a council; as a family bound together by law and fate. We are all as one in league together and if you hint at more than that, if you whisper even to me the notion of a desire for an authority that overshadows the others, then they won’t hesitate to do what they believe is necessary. I will be required to watch with a forced approval as you’re murdered before my eyes.”

“Maria, I did not mean to imply that I want to reign above you or them. Moreover, I am the president; they would not—”

“And Vincent Espinosa was a Catholic cardinal—a popular one at that.” Maria’s frown disappeared and she smiled reassuringly. “Yes, you are the president of the United States, but that is a title that will cease to exist when we are finished. So please, remember, we are not kings and queens and nor will we ever be.”

He stared back at her silently, allowing a few moments to pass by with only the background noise of the television to break the silence.

“You are right. Every boy grows up dreaming that he’ll be a king, but those are only dreams. You are my reality, you are my everything, and you are right. But I know you wonder as I do. What do you think it will be like, life after the Purge?”

Instead of awarding Lukas with an immediate answer, Maria wandered over to the furnishings in the middle of the room, grabbed a silky white robe off the back of a chair, and covered herself. When she finished, she slowly circled the older furniture, following the complex and intricately-carved pattern with her nimble fingers. She ambled around the couches and chairs before making her way back to the bed, observing the room around as though she were somehow measuring its worth. Finally, she looked at Lukas with a captivating grin and gave her response.

“I believe the world will reward us for the favor we are bestowing it. We may not be kings and queens after the Purge, but I do believe there will be more than enough left over for us to live like them.”

The door burst open, causing Maria to jump. Lukas merely calmed himself as best he could and sat up in bed, ready to harshly greet whoever had the audacity to barge in so abruptly. When he saw Rhys Howard storm into the room, he almost burst as he struggled to subdue the volcano of primal rage that welled up within him.

“They’re going to pay,” Rhys shouted. “Malcovich and Gerber are going to pay this . . . this shit!”

“First of all, Rhys, I would advise you to calm yourself and never charge in on us like that again. We may all be in league together, but my wife and I deserve our privacy. Especially from the likes of you.”

Rhys looked to Maria, standing there in her thin nightgown that left little to the imagination, and quickly looked away with an all too obvious effort. It only made Maria grin back devilishly at the embarrassed man.

“Oh Rhys, my friend, don’t be shy.” She spoke as seductively as possible, her words searing the ears and reddening the cheeks of the wide-eyed man. “Neither I nor Lukas, I’d wager, mind the occasional glance at what we all know you so badly desire. I presume your purpose here is more than to look at what will never be yours, so please, continue.”

Lukas could not help but laugh at Rhys and his discomfort. Rhys had taken the Oath and become a Patriarch shortly after the death of Lukas’ first wife. The Speaker, a popular congressman at the time, had been adamantly opposed to their relationship from day he was first introduced to the others. In the beginning, Rhys had claimed that the two had been too careless with their love affair when Lukas was still married and that if their secret years of infidelity were uncovered, their selfish actions could cost Lukas the presidency, something the Patriarchs so badly relied on. However, Sigmund approved of Lukas and Maria, stating that with the right timing the public’s knowledge of their love would be an invaluable boost for Lukas when he began his campaign for the presidency. As those initial months passed, and Lukas continued to butt heads with Rhys, it all became clear to him one day that there was much more motive behind Rhys’ contempt for him. Lukas took notice of the man’s wandering eyes and his all too kind words for Maria and decided that the truth of Rhys’ disapproval of their relationship had been much simpler than he originally thought.

Rhys only wanted Maria for himself.

Lukas had taken the opportunity to finally and indirectly confront the man he had come to loathe with a scheme of his own. Lukas had his suspicions that Sigmund recruited Rhys merely as a safeguard in the Patriarchs’ pursuit of the White House; a fact that had ignited burning embers of fury within Lukas. When Lukas silently whispered his suspicions to Maria, she had made it clear to Rhys, in front of everyone at a Gathering, that he could never have her. Lukas had had his reasons to hate his comrade before, but now Rhys had found a new vehement motivation to return that hatred. And thus had begun their ongoing feud.

“Please, Rhys, continue,” Lukas said. “Is the vote not going forward as planned?”

“Going forward, yes. As planned, no. I just got word that Adam Reinhart is going to be allowed to speak before the Senate votes.”

Lukas, abandoning any aura of composure that remained, leapt from the bed.

“Get Gerber on the phone,” he demanded.

“I already spoke with the Minority Leader. He said it was his decision as much as Malcovich’s. They said because Joe was Adam’s brother they’re going to—”

“Damn it, Rhys, just do your job for once!” Lukas shouted as he began to pace around the room. “You are supposed to see things like this coming before they happen. That son of a bitch Malcovich has been in with Adam for weeks. If they know anything at all and reveal it to the Senate, then you have no idea what that would do to me!”

Despite the severity of the situation at hand, Rhys somehow found it all amusing enough to exchange his frown for a smile, which he flashed back at the president. Lukas nearly lunged at the man, outwardly shaking as he struggled to contain his anger.

“And here I thought the man knew nothing,” Rhys said. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe he doesn’t. I guess the truth of the matter will finally come out here in a few minutes. But I do agree with you, if he knows anything, I’m sure we can only speculate what would happen to you once the others found out. Just imagine what Sigmund might say by the time he’s finished with you. If he ever finished, that is. As for my responsibilities, I’m merely the Speaker of the House, I can’t control everyone.”

“You control the media,” Lukas said through clenched teeth. “Not me. You control Congress and you control what the country sees and knows of Washington. Despite what you may believe, that is your sole purpose! What do you mean you didn’t see this coming? Shut the live stream down if you have to.”

“You know I can’t do that, Lukas. I can censor whatever you want on almost any news outlet, but cutting the feed on the air tonight wouldn’t go unnoticed. Look, this isn’t some scheme of mine to see you thrown to the wolves, no matter how greatly we both know that would appease me. We’re in this together and I want to see a new world as much as you do. Now, I’ve got agents implemented almost everywhere here in Washington. I even have agents watching those agents. Almost nothing gets to the American people without me knowing about it, but Reinhart didn’t request this until a few minutes ago. He simply showed up behind doors and requested to speak on his brother’s behalf and they said yes. I was already on my way here to congratulate you, believe it or not, and I told you as soon as I knew.”

“He’s a congressman, Rhys!” Lukas shouted. “He’s not even voting tonight. He shouldn’t be allowed to speak on the floor. I’m going to call them right now and override their decision.”

“You think that’s wise?” Rhys asked. “Do you really think you can even do that? You do something that stupid and Malcovich will be on to you. Think about it. First my disapproval and then yours within matter of minutes. Neither one of us are supposed to have a say in matters like this. If you call them now, you’ll be overstepping your bounds as president, and the Senate will not let that go unnoticed.”

Lukas paced even more rapidly, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his nerves as he struggled to decide what to do. His eye twitched uncomfortably as he marched back and forth, letting him know that he was not in control like he thought. Every now and then he looked at the Speaker of the House who only returned the gaze with a small, yet infuriating grin.

“Is this your doing, Rhys?” Lukas demanded. “Because if so, the others—”

Rhys cut him off. “Will do nothing because I have done nothing wrong and you know it. Whatever happens tonight is on your hands.”

Rhys was right, but that did not soothe Lukas’ rage; it only made him angrier. One of the ornate couches rested next to him and he grabbed the back of it, bellowed a curse, and threw it over on the coffee table, shattering the two wine glasses he and Maria had been drinking from earlier. Wine spilled onto the rug, expanding out and forming an all too familiar sight. The sight of the crimson pool caused his anger to morph into fear as he thought back to the cardinal’s brutal death. Lukas took a few deep breaths, waiting until he had calmed himself, and turned to face the Speaker.

“Rhys, I’m sure we have nothing to worry about. Adam knows nothing and he would need to swing dozens of senators in order to stop the treaty. We have watched him and listened to his conversations. We’ve listened to their meetings and they know nothing. I am sure all he wants is for the Senate to applaud some sappy memory of his brother.”

“I agree,” Rhys said.

“Then I guess what happens next is up to fate,” Lukas said.

“Indeed,” Rhys replied with a subtle frown.