Read No Master Plan Here (Madness Runs in the Family) Online
Authors: Joel Burdick
“I'm not even going to ask,” she replied. The connection broke for a second. “Yes,” she said, when it came back. “Stone says we have something that should hold him. Already coming to you.”
“Just follow the broken walls,” Anansi said and signed out, leaning back against the wall and letting his eyes shut as he caught his breath. Now came the easy part of the plan, the turn in.
Anansi hoped it wouldn't be as complicated as this part of the plan.
Chapter 16
June 13, 2017
“This is going too smoothly,” Anansi said as the Cicada touched down on the White House helipad. Mantis sat beside him, watching out the viewscreen at the dozens of Secret Service agents in matching black suits and sunglasses carrying assorted assault rifles, handguns, and submachine guns. Several also seemed to have grenade launchers and shotguns. Floodlights illuminated the whole area in the predawn darkness.
“You're someone who tried to assassinate the last president and just took out the strongest super that has ever been in direct government employ. I'm disappointed to see the lack of security,” Mantis said, indicating the lack of obvious supers in the security detail.
“Exactly. There are six teams that work this area and have proven discreet and trustworthy in the past within an hour's flight from here. Why are none of them here?”
[Maybe because you have just proven yourself competent and trustworthy by mostly discreetly ridding the government of a rather painful political nightmare?] Kay sent, printing the words on the screen in the instrument panel so both of them could see it. Anansi snorted and unplugged himself from the panel, allowing the cord to retract into his helmet.
“I'm not feeling it. Stay on your toes.”
Anansi lead the way down the stairs, Archangel and Spark following in manacles, Stone and Mantis taking up the rear, Stone in his human form and wearing a black suit. He looked most in place out of all of them.
They approached the presidential escort slowly until they were stopped by burly Secret Service agents, one of whom was a woman. “Please submit to a pat down.” Anansi chuckled and opened his duster, revealing a half dozen grenades, cores, and technical devices.
“Only if you're frisking me, doll,” he said as the Secret Service agents all drew weapons on him. He raised his hands, letting the coat close again. “Woah, woah, I was invited here.”
“No weapons inside,” the female agent said in a tone brooking no argument. Anansi shrugged.
“I'm not giving them to you lot, if that's what you're thinking. You'll take them to the tech goons and tear them apart and I'll never see them again, and five years down the road when you finally reverse engineer them, you'll come at me with my own stuff.”
Mantis hit Anansi on the shoulder. “Play nice. They're just doing their job,” she said. She unslung her submachine gun and handed it to one of the male agents, followed by her pistols and three knives she had concealed on her person, and finally her helmet. She presented herself to the female agent, who conducted a pat down. She nodded when she was complete and let Mantis step past.
“I'll just ditch most of this in the Cicada. I'd feel better that way,” Anansi said, turning and walking back across the landing zone to the plane.
Several minutes later he reemerged from within, showing an empty rig to the assembled agents, and submitted to a pat down with only minimal jokes. When the pat down was complete, finding no knives, guns, grenades, or gadgets that looked particularly dangerous, Anansi was allowed to join the agents of SHIP and was led off of the helipad and into the White House.
Contrary to every television show ever, it gave the appearance of being empty. Anansi leaned over as they walked, closer to Mantis. “Is it usually this empty?”
“No, they probably gave everyone the day off so they could conduct this a bit more quietly. It's also two in the morning, local time. Most people are home asleep.” Anansi nodded, leaning back over to walk straight again, but he noted that Mantis seemed nervous. He didn't want to let on that he felt the same way. Something stunk about this whole situation.
“Want to get a drink after this? Seeing as you're going to be a pardoned man?” Mantis said, bumping Anansi with her hips as they walked. Anansi chuckled and bumped her back.
“That sounds fantastic. I could use a drink after being turned into a goody-goody world saving type.”
“Don't lie, you liked it.” She smiled at him, and Anansi remembered all the good times he had had with her. Maybe they could happen again.
“Maybe a little bit. You're a bad influence on me. What will the Evil League of Evil think when I tell them about this?”
“So don't tell them.” They shared a quiet laugh, drawing looks from the Secret Service agents. Mantis, no, Denise stuck her tongue out at them, which made Anansi laugh louder.
After what felt like an eternity and Kay let him know was actually only four minutes and fourteen seconds, they entered the oval office, which looked exactly like it did in every single television show ever, complete with couches and a rather comfortable looking chair behind the president's desk that faced the windows, hiding the man sitting in it. The secret Service agents ushered the group in and took up positions at the door.
“That won't be necessary, Agent White,” came a man's voice from the chair. The female agent began to protest, but held her tongue when the man in the chair raised a hand. She nodded and the Secret Service agents filed out and closed the door. The chair spun around, revealing the man sitting in it. He was tall, young, and clean shaven, with a good head of brown hair and blue eyes. He looked like every politician's dream.
Anansi had stopped really paying attention to the political scene in America once his exile had become more than self imposed, but the President's appearance surprised him. He had Kay start digging up what information she could about the man.
“Nice to see you in the flesh, Anansi. I have to say, I'm a bit surprised that you managed what you did, even with the help of my SHIP agents,” the President said with a smile that surely charmed most people but did nothing to alleviate Anansi's uncomfortable feeling. “It has been a bit of a hectic couple of weeks keeping this from hitting the news.”
“Nice that I could have been of help, Mr. President,” Anansi responded, using the modulators in his helmet speakers to take the nervous edge out of his voice. “Though I have to wonder, why me?”
“An astute observation, Mr. Redpath. Haven't they already told you?”
“I want to hear it from you, Mr. President.”
“Actually, I admit that the decision was a political one.” The president stood from his seat and walked around his desk to the front, where he sat down in one of the couches and signaled for Anansi to do the same. He leaned back, still smiling. He was comfortable, felt he was completely in control. That was what was throwing red flares in Anansi's subconscious. It wasn't deception, a presentation of confidence. He genuinely wasn't afraid of Anansi, and had no doubts about that lack of fear, even without bodyguards.
“You see,” he continued, lifting one hand to run it through his hair. “Out of anyone who has fought Archangel, your fight, while expected to be a complete shutdown, was actually rather close. You performed far better than any projections by anyone working for us showed that you could. I was impressed when I read through the recounts. It also helped that Agent Sanders spoke highly of your skill. She volunteered to supervise you, stating she was the best equipped to do so.”
“I bet she did,” Anansi said, glancing at Denise who was distinctly not looking at Anansi. He wished for a moment that he could see into her mind to see what she was thinking, but he'd never been able to figure out a device for that, and his youngest sister, Daisy, had never agreed to being experimented on for him to figure it out. A shame, really.
Kay interrupted the President with a file that displayed in Anansi's vision, showing pictures and news articles on David Andrews, President of the United States. In an unheard of move, Andrews had exploded onto the political scene only a year and a half before his election to President and having held no previous political office of any sort, making friends and a name for himself in the short time he had been in the news. He was the second son of a middle class family, West Point graduate, served ten years in the Army as a Special Forces officer, final rank of major, before leaving the service to pursue his dream of politics. His awards included a Bronze Star with a valor device, awarded for heroism in Afghanistan.
His opponents in the race for president had called him unqualified, citing that his service meant little in a changing political world and that he was a war hound. Andrews had responded by stating that his service had showed him the advantage of being young and open-minded in a changing world, able to accept things that others would not due to their long set prejudices.
He had run as an Independent and won the presidency by a narrow margin, beating his nearest competitor by only ten percent of the vote.
Once he had finished reading through the file, Anansi noticed the president was silent, waiting for him to speak.
[He asked how you did it.]
“Trade secret, sir, and frankly, the science behind a lot of my toys is something that breaks brains. Simply put, you know how physics is supposed to work, but doesn't seem to function the same way for supers?” The president nodded. “Same way with my toys. It's what makes Makers qualified as supers, even if most people barely recognize us as a type.”
“I see,” the president said with a nod and a thoughtful smile. “I will try not to underestimate Makers again.” The president stood, walking back to his desk. “That being said, we now are even more short-staffed in matters of highly skilled supers on my Superhuman Handling and Incident Prevention team. Maybe you would consider joining?” He leaned on his desk, eying Anansi. “We could use a man of your talents.”
Anansi felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. The feeling that something was wrong came back full force, with friends and family and was having a whole party inside his head. Anansi sent a query to Kay to run a check for display of powers in Andrews' history.
“I'd rather not. I've spent years trying to undo this mess of a government, and turning into another government drone would look bad on my villain cred sheet.”
The president frowned, a look of confusion on his face for a split second that was hidden under a mask of neutrality, which looked far more at home on his face than the smile. “Let me rephrase to something I hear you might more appreciate. “Join me. With our combined strength, we can bring an end to these destructive conflicts and rule the world.””
Anansi blinked. He looked at the president incredulously. “Seriously? Darth Vader?” Confusion flashed across the president's face again as Anansi stood and fixed his coat. “Listen. Amusing references or no, I'm not joining you. I'll take that pardon I was promised and I'll stay out of your hair, but I'm not going to become your attack dog.”
President Andrews crossed his arms. “Fine, if you want to be that way,” he said. He nodded to Stone, who stood beside Mantis in the back of the room. Anansi looked as Stone drew a pistol from his suit and leveled it on Denise's head. The gunshot was deafening in the close quarters. Anansi stared in shock, hands involuntarily reaching for grenades he hadn't brought with him as Denise's body crumpled to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her blood spattered on the walls and pooling about her head, eyes staring ahead, unblinking. He felt his collar get grabbed and looked back at the president. The man held him close, a look of anger on his face.
“I don't know why you're unaffected by me, Mr. Redpath, but let's make one thing clear, shall we?” His voice had changed from amicable to menacing, barely recognizable as the politician's smooth voice from before. “If you aren't joining me, that's fine, but I will make you suffer if you stand against me.
“I know who your family is, and just where I can hit them to hurt them the most, and once I'm finished hurting each and every one of them, I will kill them. Then I will kill you. The entire Redpath clan will be but a memory in the history books if I so much as think you have lifted a finger against me, do you hear me?”