317 What the F



Nobody spoke in the car on the drive back to the Diplomat Lodge.  When we arrived, I went directly into the bedroom.  I left the two of them to decide their sleeping positions.  Then I plugged myself in and waited for any updates.


Maxine the party was a huge success, the controller informed me.  We are confident that the invitations will begin to roll in.  We will sort through them for you, under the guise of the agent assigned to you by the network.  You are entitled to an agent, now that you are a real star.


Do whatever you want, but let me tell you I did not enjoy the belt thing, I reported.


That thing was no more than being hit by a ribbon.  First of all we checked to be sure the receptors were not triggering any pain memories.  His shit was no more than a fly landing on your ass.


Well let me tell you, I didn’t like what he was doing, I messaged.


Sure you did.  It caused a circuit overload just like when the Irishman fucked you.  So get off your high horse.  You didn’t like the loss of control, and we understand that, but honey it’s call acting.  You need to learn how to play parts other than Maxine the super bitch.


Well, I can see there is no sense arguing with you. I suddenly realized that they were allowing me to argue.  They were also trying to justify their actions to me.  I wondered what that was all about.  Did they have total control over me or not? I wondered.


I went into sleep mode while I charged.  The memory of the party went from my active conscious to the back burner.  It was like ram in the desk top computer.  There was only so much open and in use.  Some things went into long term storage after a while.  The human brain also worked the same, it seemed to me.


I was instantly back in full action mode at 5AM.  I didn’t bother pretending since I was in my Go To Work mode.   I stripped naked, then slipped into the new running shorts and tee shirt. I had purchased both new for the occasion from the mall sporting goods store.  I paid way to much, but I intended to blend in.  I also had a knit watch cap and fancy sunglasses with wide rims to hide my identity.


My outfit was a disguise, I know.  Okay the stated objective was to prevent an attack on the Senator.  I had told Peter, if someone recognized me and called it off, I would be just as happy.  That was just the company line bullshit.  I wanted something to happen, so that I could save the day.  It was my fucking character flaw, but I didn’t plan to deny it.  If nothing happened, I was going to be disappointed period.


Finally after the heavy socks and the hundred dollar running shoes, I belted on the utility belt and small pouch.  In addition to my ID and credit cards, I carried my stainless steel derringer in there.  The one which fired both 410 gauge shotgun shells or .41 caliber pistol rounds.  I had .41 cal hollow points in it that morning.


I had made sure Peter was awake and ready to drive, before I started dressing, so we were ready to go when I walked from the bedroom.  We left Sylvia in bed with her eyes closed.  I had no idea if she was really asleep or just avoiding me.  It didn’t matter, I had other things on my mind.


“I’ll try to  have someone call you to pick me up after the race,” I said to Peter as I got out of the car a block from the start line.  There was a mob that took up most of the block.  I waited in line to register which was no more than showing my driver’s license and picking up my number.


The Senator’s number is 5.  He will be checking in at the last minute so hang around the table.  When the crowd spreads out you should be able to pick him up.  That was the message from the controller.


I waited almost twenty minutes before the senator showed up.  He got his number, then moved into the crowd to start the marathon.  When the horn sounded we all began to run.  It took me all of five minutes to maneuver so that I was about ten yards behind the Senator.


I scanned the crowds at least a hundred yards ahead of our position at all times. The idea was to try to locate the shooter before he left the crowd.  The computer had told me that he would want to be in a spot not so crowded, so that he could get out of his coat without anyone paying too much attention.  So I was checking places where the crowd was thin and looking for someone in a coat long enough to hide the fact that he or she was in running shorts under it.


My faith in Peter’s game was beginning to slip, when I was a half mile from the park and saw nothing.  Then at about a quarter mile from the park, I saw the man in the long green WWII style army overcoat.  He wore it and a watch cap with big frame sunglasses.  Hell, if he saw me in the same watch cap and sunglasses, he might call the hit off.  Damn that would be a waste.


My new vision was a thing of beauty.  When the old me saw a car and wanted to concentrate on it, everything else just went a little out of focus as I watched the car move through my field of vision at a one to one ratio.  The only separation from the rest of the scene was that slightly out of focus area all around it.


The new vision cropped the image, just like a digital camera would.  Why wouldn’t it? that was really the mechanism which gave me vision.  Not only that it zoomed in on the cropped area.  So the homeless man filled my view.  I still couldn’t tell anything about him, except that he kept his hand in his pocket.


I did not turn my head as I passed.  If he did notice me, he probably would not think that I noticed him.  Well it was my hope.  We were at the choke point of the park entrance and hardly slowed at all.  The homeless man had his Wheaties for breakfast, since he was able to over take us shortly after we entered the park.


I had closed the gap on the senator, because I was expecting the attack just as it happened, the poor bastard never had a chance.  He raised the piss ant .22 and I reached over from just a little behind him and chopped him hard on the clavicle.   I most likely shattered it.  Lest he pull the trigger as a knee jerk reaction, I also pushed on his other shoulder to spin his ass around at the same time.  It was almost a ballet move and I was proud of it.  He was off the path and into the trees in a micro second.  A few people had to have seen it, but no one stopped to help.  Big cities, you had to love them.


I pulled off his hat and glasses, while holding the derringer to his head.  “What the fuck?” I asked in shock and horror.


“What the fuck indeed.  You broke my shoulder I think.” Irish said to me.


“What the hell are you doing trying to kill a U.S. Senator?”  I saw him reach for  his pouch like mine.  I pushed the Derringer even harder against his head.  He held his finger to his lips.  He removed that Bic lighter looking thing.  It was just like the one he had used to jam the signal from my wireless microphone to Mike’s receiver, during the filming for the TV show.


“Just in case,” he said.  “Now who the fuck is paying you to guard that asshole?”


“You first, who the hell is paying you to kill that asshole?” I asked.  I also was thinking hard trying to reach the controller.  I got no response to my questions about what to do next.  It seemed that all the while I was trying to mask my thoughts, all I had to do was use the jammer I had saved from the TV show days.  What an idiot I was.


In retrospect it was obvious that the communications link was by radio.  It was obvious that I could have jammed the wifi communications link, if I knew the right frequency.  Obviously Irish had a broadband jammer that worked on lots of frequencies.  Why not the Admiral had access to all kind of shit.


“Come on Irish you know the cops are on the way.  I don’t want to turn you over to them.  Spill it and maybe we can get the hell out of here.” I said.


“You first Maxine, you know how this goes.  I go into the system and an hour later it was all a big mistake and I’m out.” he said.  “Cops don’t scare me.”


“I don’t think so this time.  This time it is national security shit.  What you did was an attempted assassination of a government official.  The FBI is going to be all over this shit.”


“If we walk away, then they will be looking at his sleazy business partners,” he informed me.


“I know, that’s who I was looking at.  This clown may be a sleaze but he has friends in high places,” I said.  “Irish, you have very little time.”


I was beginning to understand that I was pretty self contained.  I  hadn’t fallen over dead, when the data link was broken.  I was actually functioning quite well on my own.


“Let’s have it Irish or I swear I’m going to turn you over and see you rot in prison.  You know that if I take a job, I’m going to do it,” I said.


“So am I,” he said.  “Okay this can go no further.”


“You know I can’t promise that, but I won’t spread it around.  I will only kick it upstairs, if I am convinced that it is urgent that I do so.  Now spill it and do it quick.”


“I can still kick your ass Maxine.  That was just a lucky blow with your sap.” he said.  He thought that I had hit him with a black jack, rather than my fist.  I could see why he would feel that way.


“Spill it Irish and do it now,” I demanded.  I wasn’t going to torture him, but I would dump his ass onto the FBI, and then he might well wind up in Gitmo.


“You know I was working on the lost drone project.  When they called off the mission, I got curious and began checking around.  A Mossad agent told me that someone sold the codes for that little bird to the Iranians.  The Admiral did some checking on the people who  had access to the codes, and came up with the senator.  The senator, who made a rather large deposit in a secret bank account shortly before the drone got lost.  He had some kind of Realty deal go south on him, and some really bad people wanted their money back.”


“That dovetails with what I learned.  I didn’t know about the codes.  Are you sure?” I asked.


“I’m sure, but I can’t prove it.  Even if I could, it would never go to trial.  He knows to many of the right people, plus there would be other secrets exposed.  So you gonna look the other way?” he asked.


“Irish, I’m going to do some checking.  You aren’t in the clear.  I’m going to let you walk, since you don’t know how to keep a low profile.  I can find you anytime I want. Beat it, but leave me that cute little jammer.”


I watched him walk away.  I had done the job the farm boys wanted.  The Senator was alive so fuck them.  I had no problem with releasing Irish.  After all he was a great fuck.

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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11 Responses to 317 What the F

  1. GaryDan says:

    Exciting episode. Thanks!!

    Quote from Max regarding the farm
    “Did they have total control over me or not? I wondered”

    That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What Irish was able to do with the blocking may have partly answered that question.

    • cindypress says:

      I think we are going to find that since losing contact with Max didn’t cause a panic, it is not unheard of. So maybe they have control, when they are in contact mostly because they can terminate her. How much would she have to piss them off to be terminated, that maybe a question that comes up one day as well.

      In the case of the Senator she is going to plead. Hey I did what you said to do. I just didn’t do any more than you said. I’m not sure even they know what to expect since Maxine is the first of the bots with human memories and there for human traits. It is my thesis that Being Human is a leaning process not a birthright. If that is true then max with her memories is still just enhanced max.

  2. Darrell says:

    Great action story.
    Nice twist

  3. jack says:

    We all have twisted minds in some respect but usually keep them buried deep. You put yours out there for us all to enjoy. Thanks

  4. The Mage says:

    I am wondering if Max will trust Irish after this.

    • The Mage says:

      Even if he is a good lay!

    • cindypress says:

      The irishman didn’t lie to her. That’s the only absolute no, no in the business. Everybody double deals or works for someone they don’t like now and then. It’s just a matter of don’t screw the people you are screwing. If you do you really do make an enemy for life.

  5. jack says:

    I don’t think trusting Irish is the problem. It looks like the farm was not up to speed with their information on the senator if the information Irish had is correct. If it is the senator is a traitor and you would think the farm would want to be as far from him as they can get. When the shit starts flying
    it has a way of getting on everyone, Another question is where did the senator get the codes? From within the agency because he was a good friend? If so Max could now be in real trouble if someone in the farm supplied the senator with the codes and they find out Max knows. That was the good thing about the jammer only Irish and Max know what she knows.

  6. cindypress says:

    There was or is a reference coming that the agency had already turned the Senator. The senator is selling out the people, he sold out to. He may or may not ever show up again.

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