Julian- United Human Faction- Night 49
Julian watched as two SUVs parked in front of the Memorial Tower. These intruders didn’t mind being noticed; in fact it seemed they wanted to be noticed, maybe in the hope that someone would know exactly who took the leader of the Faction. As the soldiers exited their vehicles, the image came to Julian's mind of a bank heist from the old black-and-white films Sharon had loved before the war. These intruders would think they were the cops, making a sting on the criminals they had spent so long finding.
Julian’s thoughts were interrupted by the crash of the door behind him. He quickly placed the mask over his face and raised his head.
“I found you,” said Jeremy.
The leader of the revolution, clad in thick clothing that matched his stark black hair, turned to face the intruders. He adjusted the mask’s elastic strap, then lowered his arms to his sides.
“Do I meet your expectations?” he asked the Senator.
“I recognize your voice. There really aren’t that many Julians Sacramento, you know,” Jeremy replied.
John was speechless. Jeremy had never revealed any guesses about the Masked Man's identity. Before he could organize his thoughts, a pair of men grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him out of the room. Jeremy looked back calmly, recognizing the burly soldiers.
“Major! It’s a pleasure to see you again. I knew you weren't sent to save me. In fact, your men probably think I'm a traitor, seeing how far you've followed me. You should work on your getaway plan better next time though. There’s more security here than there is in the Capitol.”
One of the vehicles parked outside exploded, shaking the lower floors of the tower. The Major and his partner moved away from John’s unconscious body and threw the Senator to the ground.
“You should have chosen me over Thomas, Julian. I know how to get people's feathers ruffled even when I’m behind bars,” Jeremy said before he felt the barrel of the soldier’s gun against his neck.
“You would have betrayed us quicker than he did, Senator. You're too dedicated to the America you grew up with to accept our goals. You're too attached to a world where the upper class dictates the opinions of the lower. We're going to change that. The unification begins here, then spreads to Canada, then China, Russia, Europe. We are the enemy who will unite the world,” Julian replied, chuckling after he finished. "You wouldn't be able to play political games on a united Earth."
John groaned and started to pull himself off the floor, catching the attention of the Major. The special operative pointed his weapon toward the doorway where his foe was rising.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said Julian, drawing a weapon of his own.
Julian’s pistol was different from the others in the room. It was small and unassuming, fitting neatly in Julian’s palm. It was not intended to be a tool of murder. It was made to hold only one bullet, and a name was to be scratched in the round’s side.
“Don’t you move!” yelled the Major, turning again a he misinterpreted the purpose of Julian’s weapon.
The Masked Man raised the instrument to his temple and placed his finger on the trigger.
“I’m useless to you dead, so why don’t you let me and my friend here have a little talk.”
The Major stepped forward in obvious disagreement. Julian drew back the hammer quickly enough to emphasize its distinctive click. The Major finally understood the situation and lowered his sidearm.
“I remember when your employer ran against me. He was an imbecile, but you got him a seat in Congress. It offended me, but was admirable on your part,” Jeremy said, standing again.
“I never trusted you after that race. You played dirty, even at your best.”
“A degree in psychology does that to someone like me. You, though… you played the voters like chess pieces. It was disgusting how blindly they followed your words, even when they came from your candidate's mouth. That was your problem, wasn’t it? You could never speak for yourself. You always needed someone else to say the words for you. A mask, whether human or...”
“You’ll regret saying that!” Julian screamed, pointing his weapon at the Senator.
“Don’t forget whose name is on the side of that bullet,” Jeremy whispered.
The Major jumped at his distracted target, but not before John came to his senses. The veteran grabbed his sworn enemy by the waist and threw him into the sheet of glass overlooking the building's entrance. Julian fired his weapon at the soldier behind Jeremy, killing him instantly, then turned to the brutal fistfight on the window.
The Major’s cheeks were white with terror as the John struck again and again, his face cold and indifferent. It seemed as though the veteran’s soul had been taken out, and nothing had been put in its place. John struck the Major again and again, shaking the glass each time. Jeremy watched from a distance, biding his time. One final strike shattered the window, and the Major fell to his death.
John stood at the precipice, panting. Jeremy reached out and shook his friend’s shoulder. John collapsed to the ground, sobbing. The white mask fell to the ground.
Jeremy turned to Julian expectantly. The founder of the revolution thought for a moment, then reached for his pocket. In his hand was a second round, perfectly fitted for his weapon. On its side was inscribed the name “ Julian,” written in what Jeremy could tell was an artist’s
calligraphy.
“Two men died in this room,” Jeremy whispered. "That fact that we're still here tells me that we're on the same side now."
Julian turned and walked out the door, not stopping until he reached the elevator.
"You know what you have to do," he yelled to John.
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