Illicit Behaviour

  “What!? Why did you do that?”

  “I needed to know how that whole process worked in order to write about it for a story I was working on.”

  “So you bought a gun?”

  “Yes, I wanted the scene to be authentic so I went through the entire process of obtaining a gun license, registering a permit to carry a concealed weapon, and the actual sale of the gun.”

  “So you have a gun?”

  “I don’t have it on me. I have to pick it up once I pass all my background checks. But now I’m a registered gun owner.”

  “What kind of gun is it?”

  “A small calibre hand gun.”

  “Then you’re fine. Nobody would kill a President with a hand gun.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah, I mean, maybe if you bought a long-range sniper rifle with a high-powered telescopic lens, you might have something to worry about.”

  “What if the government tracks me and arrests me.”

  “First of all, this isn’t a TV show, the government can’t really track you.”

  “What if they can?”

  “Just explain to them that you’re a writer and they should let you go once they deem you’re innocent.”

  “I’m not so sure about that. In this documentary I was watching, it discussed this thing called the National Defense Authorization Act, which the President vowed he wouldn’t sign, but then on New Year’s Eve when nobody was paying attention, he signed it.”

  “Okay, so what does that mean?”

  “It means that the government can snatch you in the middle of the night and detain you indefinitely without trial and without establishing just cause.”

  “What, this is real?”

  “Yes, the President signed it! It basically gives the government unlimited power.”

  “That is really greasy.”

  “I know! They claim the average citizen doesn’t have to worry about this new legislation, only suspected terrorists. But what if they think I’m a suspected terrorist? They might lock me away and throw away the key. And they wouldn’t even have to tell anyone about it. They would label the arrest as a measure of ‘national security’ and never think about it again.”

  “I think it’s late and you’re all riled up from your story and the documentary. Nothing is going to happen to you.”

  Chapter Four

  After three days of writing, Daniel finally finished his story. He always felt a triumphant jubilation whenever he completed one of his stories. He pressed Ctrl S to save his document and then printed off a physical copy. His paranoia transferred into nearly everything he did. He lived in perpetual fear, despite nothing bad ever happening to him. His fears were most likely exaggerated through his wild imagination and all the research he did for his evil and decrepit characters. More recently, he was even afraid to leave the house since he thought the government might be after him. Nevertheless, his fears hadn’t prevented him from finishing his story.

  “Can I read it now?” Kim asked.

  “Sure, but it’s only a draft. I haven’t edited it yet.”

  “I know – I know, it’s the same speech I’ve heard a dozen times.”

  Daniel handed her the small stack of papers and then headed over to the window. It was nearly two in the afternoon so he had a good visual of his neighbourhood from his third-floor apartment. He noticed an innocuous van parked across the street with no windows and no signage. He kept a watchful eye on it behind the peeled back curtains from his bedroom window, but then dismissed it.

  Daniel brought his attention back inside and accompanied Kim as she laid sprawled out on the floor flipping through the loose pages. He fluffed up his beanbag chair and plopped himself in the centre. Kim continued to read…

  The plan sounded simple: somehow get into the White House, get near the President, and kill him. Getting into the White House seemed easy enough, all they had to do was apply for some kind of low-rung job and the rest should be fairly easy. Fortunately, an opportunity came up through a job placement agency to play elves in the annual Christmas at the White House event.

  “Christmas at the White House? Is that a real event?” Kim asked.

  “I have no clue. But there probably is one,” Daniel replied.

  “And these two psychotic loner boys somehow get a job to be elves? Wouldn’t you need to undergo extensive background checks to get anywhere near the President?”

  “Probably.”

  “You might want to consider revising that,” Kim suggested.

  “To what? I need these kids in the White House and that was the best way I figured they could do it. I mean, it could happen. Maybe their records are squeaky clean, have good grades and people to vouch for them.”

  Kim didn’t look so convinced.

  “Either they get into the White House somehow or they are perched atop of some grassy knoll with a rifle.”

  “Effective, but not original… I see what you’re saying.”

  “I’ll worry about that later, just keep reading, it gets better!”

  There they were, two elves standing amongst a dozen others dressed just like them, and a large man dressed as Santa Clause. A film crew was nearby capturing the glee on about forty small children as they eagerly awaited the President's arrival in one of the grand halls in the White House.

  Underneath their elf costumes, David and Luke sweated profusely, as their nerves kicked into overdrive. The thick face paint, which disguised much of their emotions, began to run down their faces, causing them to look more like sinister clowns than joyful elves.

  The anticipation made Luke feel antsy.

  “I have to use the washroom,” Luke whispered to David.

  "You're not going to wimp out on me now, are you? After we do this, we'll forever be remembered as heroes who changed the course of history. That's what you want, isn't it?"

  “Sure, I mean… I’m not wimping out; I just really need to piss.”

  “Hold it.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” a lady announced, “The President of the United States of America.”

  The President entered the hall to a standing ovation. At his side, were the First Lady and their two adorable daughters. It was a picture perfect family who appeared as well-intentioned as could be. Their warm smiles could not penetrate David's hardened exterior. He sneered at the very sight of them.

  Chapter Five

  It was impossible to go anywhere in the White House without someone constantly watching. Armed men in suits stood by just out of sight while surveillance cameras panned around the room capturing every angle. David paid no mind to this since he didn’t care if he was caught, in fact, he welcomed it.

  When the festivities began, David and Luke assumed their roles as Santa’s little helpers. They had no prior interaction with children and were not there to be entertaining. For the most part, they did the bare minimum to maintain their cover. Their duties included handing out presents to the kids, singing, and minor crowd control functions when it came time to meet Santa.

  During present time, the kid’s ripped off the gift wrap like savage beasts and danced around the room with excitement. It was truly a joyous occasion as the entire hall was colourfully decorated and everyone celebrated the holiday with food and cheer.

  As it was explained to them prior, the role of an elf can often become quite physically abusive. Kid's unabashedly hit the elves, pulled their hair, and climbed on their backs. During the festivities, one such toddler inadvertently ploughed into Luke's abdomen. The sudden and unexpected jolt caused him to lose control of his full bladder and urinate all over the floor.

  Luke stood in a large puddle of urine frozen with embarrassment. The warm liquid uncontrollably ran down his leg and soaked his pants. Nobody noticed at first as there were hyperactive kids running about.

  “Hey, this elf peed his pants!” one kid screamed out at the top of his lungs, pointing and laughing. This caught the attention of practically everybody in the room. Al
l the kids thought it was hysterical and gathered around. Some of the adults also rushed over and offered to take Luke to a place where he could get cleaned up.

  “I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating.

  “It’s alright, don’t worry about it. It happens to the best of us,” a kind lady said as she whisked him away.

  The large puddle of urine remained on the floor and created quite the commotion. During this time, David snuck away with a few of the gifts. Under his arm, was a telescope, a stuffed animal, and a lunchbox. David casually carried the items across the room and disappeared behind a large couch. He knew he had to act fast while nobody was paying attention to him.

  Concealed from view behind the couch, David quickly disassembled the telescope and set it aside. He then grabbed the stuffed animal and twisted the head until it came off. Prior to the event, the stuffing was removed and replaced with fertilizer pellets. To ensure he didn’t spill any, he shoved the telescope in the neck of the bear and flipped them both upside down. The contents of the bear filled the small telescope up halfway.

  Inside the lunchbox was a thermos, which David had prearranged to be filled with gasoline. He popped off the lid and unscrewed the cap. The smell of gasoline filled the immediate space around him, but this only served to excite him further.

  David was preparing the final provisions on the bomb when a toddler wandered over to him. This caught the attention of a nearby Secret Service agent who was trained to quickly scan crowds for any irregularity. A toddler speaking to someone behind a couch piqued his interest, so he decided to investigate.

  “Go away, kid!” David hissed nastily.

  For a brief moment, David peered over the couch. That’s when he saw the mountainous man approaching with a furrowed brow.

  “What are you doing, son?” the man bellowed in a stern and authoritative voice, the type of voice that David had grown to detest.

  “Stay back!” David demanded as he snatched the small child by the arm.

  Now there was another commotion that commanded everyone’s attention. Most people still hadn’t clued in to what was going on, especially the children, who continued to run around the room.

  When the words, “I have a bomb!” left David’s lips, the room became quiet for a brief second. Then chaos ensued. Parents made a mad dash to wrangle up their kids and haul them away. Any stragglers were immediately scooped up by the closest personnel and escorted to safety.

  “Give me the child,” the agent requested.

  The media and surveillance cameras were left running and were pointed at the action.

  “Back up!” David barked again.

  The agent slowly took a few steps back.

  “What do you want?” the President asked.

  There were now only a few people left in the room, the President being one of them.

  “You want to save this child?” David asked. “I will exchange your life for his.”

  Chapter Six

  The intensity of the situation continued to escalate. David never planned this to be a long, drawn-out standoff. His only target was the President, whom he was trying to coax to come closer.

  Behind the scenes, dozens of heavily-armed Secret Service agents rushed into action. Within minutes, the entire place was surrounded and David had several highly-trained snipers awaiting orders to take him out.

  “Please, let the child go,” the President spoke calmly.

  “Your life for the child; that’s my offer.”

  “Requesting permission to engage target,” an agent spoke into his transceiver.

  Luke was standing off to the side with everyone else and overheard the request. He was wearing a guest robe with the Presidential emblem embroidered on the chest. His urine-soaked clothes were hermetically sealed in a plastic garbage bag and properly disposed.

  ‘Permission granted’ squawked the voice from the radio, inaudible to anyone without the specialized ear bud.

  The special agent steadied his rifle and peered through the scope. Calmly and without the slightest hesitation, he fired a powerful round, hitting the target. The bullet blasted through David's forehead snapping his head backward. His lifeless body collapsed behind the couch and out of sight from the cameras. Hardly anyone saw the horrific outcome, but they heard it. There was a dull sense of morose looming in the air, a reflection of people's shock.

  The tragedy that had transpired was something that would undoubtedly be dramatized on the news for the next several weeks until some other major event emerged. For the parents and children who were there that night, it would be a night they would never forget. Little did they know, it was far from over.

  Luke remained in shock like most people. Everyone was being corralled and ushered away from the site.

  Then the bomb detonated.

  The loud bang reverberated throughout the entire house and startled people's already-rattled nerves. Many of the woman and children screamed and began to cry.

  People were in a confused and disorderly state, not sure what to do. The White House staff were not prepared to deal with such an ordeal on Christmas Eve during what was supposed to be a fun and festive evening.

  Luke laid eyes on the disorientated President as he stumbled out of the room with the assistance of two armed agents. The President wasn’t close enough to the blast to be injured, but was close enough to be shaken up by it. His ears were ringing and he too was in shock.

  At this point, Luke was in the clear. Nobody suspected he had any relationship with David, nor had any part in the incident. He was perceived to be as innocent in all of this as the rest of them.

  The curious thing about a troubled teen is their allegiance to people whom they are close to. Luke felt duty-bound to carry out his fallen comrade’s mission, but wasn’t sure how.

  Then he noticed the firearm attached to the hip of one of the special agents. In a whimsical act of passion, Luke dove for the gun, lifted it from its holster, and aimed it at the confused President. Without warning or hesitation, Luke squeezed the triggered, discharging three rounds into the President's chest.

  BANG! BANG! BANG! — the loud shots echoed throughout the hall inciting more screams and panic as the events kept unfolding in an unpredictable fashion.

  A nearby agent tackled Luke to the ground and began to pummel him. Within seconds, four more agents rushed over and secured Luke. Luke’s arms were twisted behind his back so tightly and abruptly, that they almost snapped off. He screamed in pain, but garnered no sympathy.

  From that point, everyone was a suspect. Each parent, child, and staff member were arrested and detained for questioning.

  Luke remained pinned to the floor, bloodied and in agonizing pain. Blood poured out of his nose and mouth as his smashed up face was pressed firmly into the cold hard marble tiles. On top of him was a 250-pound man who had his knee driven into the back of Luke’s neck. Once he was handcuffed and searched, he was hauled to his feet and dragged away to some discreet location, where he would undoubtedly pay the price for assassinating the President.

  On his way out, he passed by a rolling camera and for a brief moment; Luke looked directly into it and delivered a bone-chilling smirk. His dream had come true. People everywhere would know his name and be talking about him. Regardless of what was going to happen to him, he knew he would go down in history as a hero.

  —The End—

  “Wow, so he killed the President in the end?” Kim asked.

  “Yeah,” Daniel replied.

  “I was expecting Luke to have some sort of moral revelation at the end, where the demise of his depraved friend breaks the spell he was under.”

  “I wanted to show how powerful someone’s loyalty can be, regardless of how misguided and imprudent his beliefs were.”

  “The fame monster is a powerful beast,” Kim remarked.

  “Exactly! I think that is what’s interesting about it too. Luke had created his own narrative based on his warped world view and cast himself as the hero
.”

  “They both did,” Kim added.

  “Right. So as troubled and psychologically imbalanced as they were, at the end of the day, I think they were really just seeking some fundamental, albeit flawed, adulation. “

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think we all want approval from others. We all want love and respect. For Luke and David, love, approval, and respect were largely absent throughout most of their lives. Their desire to seek those things was so strong that they were willing to commit heinous acts of violence in order to draw attention to themselves.”

  “Weren’t they trying to overthrow the tyrannical government?”

  “Yes, but that was just the story they told themselves to justify their actions. I mean, let’s be honest, it wasn’t a well thought out or rational plan. Killing one President will hardly do anything to change the system, the corruption is so deeply rooted that it doesn’t really matter who the leader is.”

  “So the boys had such a deficit of adulation in their lives, they decided to go to the extreme with it?”

  “Exactly! They were severely broken human beings. I think if society paid more attention to the people on the fringe, many of the calamities like this could be averted.”

  Chapter Seven

  Daniel had finished the final edits of his short story and posted it online. He kept checking every few days to see how many reads it received. Within a few days, there were less than a dozen reads, and still no comments or likes.

  He had experienced this before. He would work tremendously hard on something, put forward his best effort, and then receive nothing but squawking crickets and tumbleweeds in response.

  He cherished the day when one of his stories would catch on like wildfire and reach an audience of millions, but sadly that was not the case for this one. His dreams of one day becoming a famous writer would have to wait.

  It had been almost three weeks since Daniel had released his story and there were less than 25 views. In the world of online stories, views were like currency, and Daniel was broke. He let out an exasperated sigh and turned his screen off.

  “Maybe I should just quit writing,” he lamented.

  “Quit writing?” Kim asked. “Why would you quit doing something you love so much?”

  “Because what’s the point? I put all this time and effort into it and nobody cares. Then some hack writer comes along and sells millions of books and winds up on the bestseller list.”