Chapter 18 – Alexander Pierce
A few moments earlier...
As Fox and the assembled delegates prepared to end the briefing, a voice made itself heard “Excuses don't interest me.”
Pierce stood, impeccably dressed behind the massive cases crowding his table. The young man looked rather effeminate, his long hair hung in his face, luxuriant, fashion-model hair. "I was made to understand that this briefing concerned items of merit." He grinned at Dr. Fox. "What about the prototype?"
"What about it?" Fox replied.
"Well, Dr. Fox, I agree with you. I read your report, all twenty five hundred pages of it. I agree that it was an absurd insult to you and your work, for the assembled members to have so grossly perverted the basis of your study by sending you condemned criminals."
Pierce continued, "I find myself torn. You see, I also agree with the senators, that prototype should be our property. We paid for it, in money and in blood. You need to turn it over."
"It's worthless," Fox stammered. "It's a paperweight."
"Fine, then. It's our worthless paperweight. What's all the noise?"
"You could hurt yourself. As a doctor, I cannot give this to you. But if you want to come up here, and steal my personal property…" Fox gestured to the prototype on the table and stepped away from it.
Pierce walked forward, his hands folded behind his back, his eyes locked on Andrew's. "Dr. Fox, I charge you with treason and fraud."
"Treason and fraud?" Fox rolled his eyes. "That's a new one."
Before Fox could stop him, Pierce picked up the slender hunk of metal. He was wearing gloves.
"This device is now officially taken into custody as evidence. We had a contract. You agreed to produce the interface, and after a couple of minor setbacks, you want to give up? I don't think so. You will try again, or you will be tried for treason."
Secretary of Defense Croswell stood up. "Dr. Fox works for the United States Government. You don't give him orders, I do. You don't get to try him for treason, I do. You don't have a contract or investment rights. You get what I give you, and I give you my word, if you don't put that down, you won't leave this room alive, you deluded brat."
Pierce didn't move.
Croswell continued, "Your drunkard of a father should have sent David, like I told him to, not some cock-sucking pansy-ass elf. Take your gloves off, I dare you," the secretary taunted him. "You won't touch it. You're a coward is why. A no-good, one-way, dumb-ass little sally."
Pierce smiled and tossed the prototype to the Secretary.
Several people gasped.
The flat rectangle hung in the air between the men.
It seemed to move in slow motion.
Out of nowhere Dr. Fox caught the prototype, only inches before it reached the Secretary.
"You called me a traitor, a liar and a cheat?" Dr. Fox said.
Pierce's reply was a scowl.
"Let's settle this the old fashioned way," Fox said.
Pierce smiled. "Pistols on the balcony?"
"Winner takes the prize." Fox held up the prototype. "What do you say?" the doctor asked.
Director Stanwood stood up. "You idiots can kill each other on your own time. The rest of us have business to attend to." He gestured for his assistants to collect the cash and exited the hall. With the money gone, the briefing was definitively over.
Croswell nodded to Fox, "I'd love to stick around, but you know I can’t be a party to this. Good luck, Andrew."
"Whatever happens, it's a perfectly legal duel. Clarke will fill you in on the details." Dr. Fox smiled at Clarke. "Won't you, Senator?"
Clarke nodded, giddy with Shakespearean malice. He hated Fox and Pierce both. He, Miller, and Harris cackled like hyenas, following lions.
Moments later, Dr. Fox faced young Alexander outside the clamshell, on the building's exterior patio. The remaining delegates watched from behind the bulletproof glass. Andrew was disappointed. There were a couple of guests he'd have happily winged or even point-blank shot, if afforded the opportunity.
Andrew set the prototype on an empty table.
"Just so we both know where it is," he said.
Pierce nodded and peeled the glove from his right hand. He removed his coat, exposing a modified version of the standard issue Light 9 handgun, with an extended barrel and compensator. He wore the gun low on his thigh, an easy draw. The chrome reflected glittering bits of light as he shifted his weight.
Andrew's holster was much higher, on his belt, a much more difficult draw and impossible to beat Pierce's hip-hugger. As kids, everyone had practiced, but few adults found themselves in an honest-to-goodness showdown.
Fox knew he wasn't drunk. Why then did he feel drunk? He hadn't taken any pills that day. He wasn't on pills just now. Andrew decided he was getting some pills if he survived this mess.
Fox suddenly found it difficult to breathe. His face felt flush, his throat, wet and ragged. His collar was too tight. He could hear his heartbeat, ringing in his ears, slamming through his head like a bell.
Fox realized his blood pressure was through the roof. He stumbled as the wind threatened to throw him off the balcony, and plunged to his knees. He took a deep breath, shook his head and tried to level out. 'Keep the mind level, and the whole world stays level,' he said to himself.
"I'm just gonna take off my coat." Andrew crashed back into the briefing room. His jacket fell to the floor. He heard his colleagues following him as he rushed toward the bathroom.
Fox checked to see that he was entering the men's room, and the next thing he knew, the walls turned sideways and he was watching red ink pour across white and blue tiles of the bathroom floor.
Pierce remained on the balcony. He had no real desire to see Fox shot. What he wanted was right here. He walked over to it.
The wind whipped his clothes.
He picked up the prototype with his gloved hand. His back to the glass, Pierce tossed it to his bare right hand.
When he touched it, he froze.
Then he fell forward, hit the railing and went over.
Several emergency vehicles hovered alongside Fuji Dozo. A halo team raced off in pursuit of the falling chairman.
They reached his angle of descent, cutting off the municipal EMTs and coast guard. They deployed life-lights, twelve hover-disks that locked into position, and split the sky with four-foot-wide beams of harmless red laser light, tracking Pierce from his current elevation to his projected impact point, on the canyon floor.
The rescue team streaked through the air toward the citizen.