Read Confessions of a Mad Man Page 8


  ***

  I had kept a subdued profile over the next eight years, using my network of loyalists to build an underground criminal empire. If politics were not the method with which I dominated the world, then I would just have to take it by brute force. The year 2030 had arrived and I was approaching fifty years old. My youth had past and I was running low on time to make my move. The news had broken that I was developing micronized nuclear weapons in private, and the media had bestowed upon me the villainous moniker of “The Doctor.” I suppose that name had better appeal than “The Ex-President” and it was fitting of a doctor of nuclear engineering. The headlines all claimed it was only a matter of time before I struck. Homeland Security had elevated the national threat level to severe.

  Despite my supreme intelligence, Epison still had the technological upper hand. He was younger, wealthier and he had the good fortune to completely absolve himself of any wrongdoings by shifting the blame firmly on me. The man was absolutely idolized, and he took advantage of every opportunity that afforded him. In 2028 President Richard Hamblin had commissioned Epison Technologies to develop a nuclear threat response system. In his grandiose fashion, Epison designed a series of giant robots to search out nuclear weapons, energy shield generators capable of protecting large cities from nuclear, biological and chemical strikes and had found a way to extend that technology to his combat armor suits. Soldiers outfitted in his armor were nearly invincible.

  By 2029, all of the large cities and most suburbs were outfitted with the nuclear shields. A lesser man would have given up then and there, but not I. The world had decided it would not love me so it needed to fear me. Win or lose, I was going to test Epison’s mettle and the arena would be his precious adopted hometown of Dearborn, Michigan.

  I could have taken the time to invent a method of making my nuclear weapons invisible to his detection robots but I wanted him to know I was coming. His giant robots were spider-like; eight legged, taller than stout, long and lean, agile and armed to the teeth. The armaments seemed a bit superfluous for a device meant to disarm explosives. Vulcan cannons, recoilless rifles and a tank turret were the obvious offensive weapons. Two large salvos of EMP equipped missiles that were capable of disarming warheads in flight were located on either side of the rear of the command module. Six of the monolithic mechanisms were posted around his corporate headquarters complex. It was there that I had planned my attack.

  From an underground location that was much too close to ground zero to be safe, I launched my attack. I gave no warning. I made no extravagant announcement of my intentions on television. I didn’t even take the time to offer a villainous laugh from the depths of my lair. My fingers didn’t hover tentatively over the button labeled “launch.” I pressed it firmly and watched the results unfold on my monitors intently.

  A simple gambit of three warheads began the assault. A lone sentry detected the incoming volley of death and launched a salvo of the EMP missiles. As I predicted, the arming mechanisms failed and the warheads fell harmlessly to the ground. A second wave of three nuclear missiles followed, and the sentry robot responded in kind. When the third series of warheads flew, the sentry was reloading the EMP salvos. There was impact and then a glorious mushroom cloud engulfed Epsion’s robot and everything around it. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight but my joy would be short-lived. When the foggy cloud of death dissolved, the sentry still stood intact and in mint condition. Epison’s shields held; my missiles failed to penetrate them. I had just launched the first domestic nuclear attack in the history of the United States and it had failed, laughably. I could imagine Epison’s reaction; smug and grinning, sitting at his lavish desk with a glass of champagne in his hand. I had him right where I wanted him.

  The second phase of my assault would be much more direct. My assembled engineers had been hard at work over the years designing a heavy urban assault vehicle capable of launching my compact nuclear weaponry. Armor was sacrificed for speed as the intent of the vehicle was to attack quickly and retreat immediately. Satisfied that Epison’s legendary overconfidence had set in, I boarded the vehicle and strapped into the driver’s seat. I fired the ignition and the machine roared to life. I pushed the accelerator pedal to the floor and roared down the exit tunnel from my lair.

  I easily navigated the city streets heading toward downtown Dearborn. Automobiles blocking my path were reduced to rubble, and where I could not crush or ravage, I utilized my vehicle’s all terrain capabilities to make new paths. I raced directly toward Epison headquarters. Only moments from arriving, I gritted my teeth and prepared for my assault.

  I fired my vehicle’s jamming hardware which was designed to scramble the giant robot’s warhead detectors. I accelerated even faster pushing past three hundred miles per hour. The first of the robot sentries came into sight and I aimed my missiles without slowing. The targeting reticule on my view screen turned red and I fired a salvo of my miniature warheads. The sentry didn’t have time to react and several missiles slammed directly into it. Several legs were blown off on impact and it was thrown off balance. The pitiful machine tried in vain to stay vertical but with only one leg left on one side and two on the other, it was helpless. It collapsed to the ground defenselessly. I kept the accelerator floored and fired a second salvo. This time, the giant robot monstrosity was destroyed.

  I took a moment to imagine my “friend” Epison’s face now. Oh, how sunken and sullen he must have been. I couldn’t be distracted by a victory so minute as I knew the remaining arthropods would be skulking nearby. As if the machines could read my mind, two of them crashed to the ground in front of me. They must have leapt from their positions and homed in on me. My new assailants were already in offensive configurations and machine gun fire rained out from their Vulcan cannons. Explosive rounds from the recoilless rifles tore the roads to shreds. Despite the treacherous ground, I kept the vehicle at top speed. Repeating my strategy from the previous robot, I targeted the legs and fired. Again, I struck true and the monumental machines collapsed helplessly.

  I was less than a mile from Epison’s doorstep and well within striking distance. I knew Epison would have to throw everything he had at me if he was going to stop me. With his equipment jammed, his shields down and his sentries nearly reduced by half, he was going to have to rely on brute force. As expected, the remaining sentries were waiting for me as I came over the final clearing toward my destination. Before I could react, they opened fire with and held nothing back. Several soldiers wearing that infernal armor were also waiting for me. Adding to the intensity of the attack, they added energy beam fire to the already overwhelming sum. I had only seconds before I would be ripped to shreds. I had to act quickly. I armed the entire payload of nuclear weapons I had in reserve and then wedged the accelerator to the floor. Once I was sure the vehicle was aimed on a proper collision course I hit the eject button and was rocketed into the air. What happened next was a mystery to me. I had fallen unconscious when my escape hatch crashed to the ground. I know for certain the payload detonated and a miniature nuclear explosion rocked downtown Dearborn. Most of Epison’s defenses were destroyed along with a small portion of that gleaming headquarters. The surrounding area though was spared any damage. Epison Technologies had once again proven themselves my superior.

  When I came to myself, I found I had landed on my side. I was too weak to attempt to exit the hatch. Even if I could, the mechanism to open the door was destroyed during the crash landing. It was eerily cold within the confines of the small pod. The chill was so intense I thought I was about to pass on from this world. It was then that I heard a voice that resonated from inside my head.

  It spoke in a whisper. “Doctor,” it said drawing the last r out in a way that reminded me of a snake’s hiss. “You are not finished here yet.” Again it drew out the word yet for far too long. “The heroes of this world are on their way to deal with you. I will give you the power to stop them.”

  I had to choke back paralyzing fear. I cou
ld feel the presence of someone or something else there with me, but I was alone. I took a second and third look around the cramped quarters to reassure myself. I did my best to speak without allowing my teeth to chatter. “Who or what are you? Why would you help me?”

  “You will call me Mister English. I am no longer of your world, but I have a desire to return. You will serve as my conveyance, Doctor.” The last word of each sentence continued to be drawn out in that hiss. It became creepier every time. “I was killed years ago by a succubus, and my soul has been trapped in purgatory. I have made many powerful allies here Doctor. We will help you in your quest to dominate this world in exchange for allowing us to return to it.”

  I had a suspicion that this was not an offer I would want to turn down. Regardless, I needed to know the stakes. “If I refuse,” I asked.

  “Then I will drag you down into purgatory with me Doctor. You will be in my domain and you will be punished.”

  Though I didn’t doubt him, I had to know what Mr. English was capable of. I asked, “How do I know you are not just an elaborate figment of my imagination? How do I know I’m not just hallucinating?” Just then, my heart stopped. The pain in my chest was crushing. I tried to gasp for air and I felt a hand clasp over my mouth. I was suffocating.

  And then it was gone. Air flushed my lungs and blood began pumping from my heart once again. I had never felt so alive and virile. To be honest, I felt extraordinary. I felt I could lift cars and raise buildings with my bare hands.

  The specter spoke again, “Is that sufficient proof, Doctor?” English had taken me to death’s door and then released me, making me more powerful than any ordinary man. I had no doubt that he had made me remotely strong enough to resist him. I was going to be his champion whether I wanted to or not. I may not believe in the typical sense of Heaven and Hell, but I had no desire to go wherever this creature came from.

  “I will do this for you, English, provided you serve me in my quest of domination.”

  The chill in the air began to subside slightly. He was leaving in affirmation and added one final mandate. “The one known as Enforcer is coming for you. Ensure you destroy him.”

  “Nothing would give me more pleasure,” I said before I punched a gaping hole through the armor plating of my escape hatch. I emerged from the wreckage to find he had already arrived. Enforcer was older and more mature now. His arms were scarred from years of battle and the visible parts of his face looked haggard from being broken so many times. The youthful cheeriness from our previous encounter was missing when he spoke.

  “Are you really this callous, Doctor? Was this really your grand plan for world domination? Destroying one building in the middle of a major city?”

  “This was not my plan for domination. This is how I was going to incite fear and through fear I would dominate.”

  “You have a lot to answer for, Doctor. You made this personal when you killed my friends.” The blue aura around Enforcer intensified into a rich blaze, intense and blinding. He was angry and he wasn’t aware that I had just been imbued with supernatural powers. I wonder if he meant to kill me…

  He unleashed a fury of energy from his gauntlets. It slammed into my chest and threw me back about fifty feet. I was as surprised as he was when I rose quickly to my feet, unscathed. Now I understood why he always had that smug grin on his face. Being nigh invulnerable was a wondrous feeling. Despite myself, I felt a bit of a grin develop on my face as I dusted myself off. “Before this is over,” I said, “I’m going to ask you how it feels to be defeated by an equal.”

  “An equal, Doctor,” he quizzed. You presume too much.” Wasting no time, he charged me. Before my upgrade from Mr. English, he would have looked like a bright blue blur and he would have pummeled me relentlessly. Amazingly, he appeared slow to me. His attacks seemed slow and lethargic. I blocked every punch and avoided every kick, counterattacking when I could. I scored several hits and the would-be hero was taken aback.

  “Yes, Enforcer,” I said. “It appears I did presume too much. We are not equals. I am your superior!” I took to the offensive, throwing one tightly clenched fist after another. My confidence began to grow when I realized I was doing damage. Each time I struck him; the formerly mighty hero reeled back and winced in pain. His face was slack-jawed, his shock palpable through his body language. He had come to realize he was on the losing end of the fight. I pressed harder.

  I hit Enforcer so hard that he collapsed to the ground. Just as he fell, I kicked him in the ribs. He lay prone as I kicked him a second time. Then I reached down and pulled him to his feet just to punch him down again. He tried to lunge at me but his flailing arms sailed past me and I slammed my fists into his back. I then drove my foot into the small of his back putting as much pressure on him as I could. I kneeled and continued to use my knee to hold him down and then grabbed him by his hair and drove his face into the pavement.

  I proceeded to do this a second and third time simply because it felt good. I was besting my rival and was enjoying the utter simplicity of it all. It wouldn’t be long until I was rid of him for good. “Don’t worry Enforcer,” I said as I drove his face into the jagged concrete for a fourth time. “I know you miss your friends. I’ll send you to join them shortly.” Finally I smashed his face to the surface a fifth time. I was satisfied I had him defeated. “I’m going to kill you now, hero, and then I’m going to walk into Epison’s office and I’m going to kill him too. Then’ I’ll be off to dominate the world and there’s nothing your pitiful Crusaders will be able to do about it. You should thank me for taking care of Weiland for you. I know you’ve been trying to end him for so long and here I am about to do it for you. I suppose this means you owe me one.” I turned my back to him for just a second and it was the worst mistake I could have ever made.

  The pain in my back was blunt as the impact of a freight train smashed into me. I went down faster than my formidable brain could process. Enforcer was on his feet and he was unhurt. I hadn’t hurt him at all. He had been toying with me the entire time. I rolled over to face the bastard and as I could have predicted, he was smiling at me. He launched a volley of energy at me as he charged, fists flying. Every hit stung, every blast burned and every moment felt like an eternity. I had been given powers from a specter but they were no match for what Enforcer had. He possessed more experience; he had years of stored up emotions haunting him and he frankly had more power than me. He used his energies without concern that he might exhaust his reserves. “I don’t know how you got to be so powerful, Doctor,” he began, “but it’s clearly not enough.” He lifted me from the ground by my collar the way a schoolyard bully might lift his victim. He reared back one arm and balled up his fist. Azure energy surged from it like a volcano about to erupt. As if to demean me with one final insult, he mocked, “Doctor, I think it’s time you checked out.” His fist started to come toward me and the next thing I knew the world went black.

  CHAPTER 8

  “…and that is when you fine gentlemen showed up and brought me here,” said The Doctor, completing his confession.

  “Was it worth it, Doc,” Jennings asked. “Was it worth killing all those people, causing the deaths of thousands more? And am I really supposed to believe you were possessed by some kind of demon?”

  The Doctor regarded the agent. “I liked you better when you were trying to play ‘good cop,’ Agent Jennings.”

  Jennings leaned into The Doctor the way Deacons had been doing earlier in the interrogation. “I ought to let Deacons take a few more shots at you. How would you like that, Doc?” The antagonistic agent thought of his partner and wondered for a moment, why he had lost his rage and why he had fallen silent. “Speaking of you, Deacons, why are you so quiet?”

  Then there was a loud banging sound from within the room. Jennings looked curiously at The Doctor and the look on the prisoner’s face was ghastly white. Jennings felt a sucking feeling in his stomach. It was then that he realized he had been shot. A second and a third lou
d pop blasted the eardrums of all three men in the room. Jennings turned to see his partner with his pistol drawn, smoke wafting from the barrel. Then Jennings couldn’t see anything. He died moments later.

  “That was rather rash, Agent Deacons,” The Doctor barely managed to say. His words splintered through a dry throat and were laden with fear.

  “Shut up, you scumbag. Jennings was a speed bump. I could never get you out of here with his pompous butt in my way.”

  The Doctor’s thought for a moment that Deacons meant to help him escape. “Breaking criminals out of federal penitentiaries doesn’t seem to be standard operating procedure, Agent.”

  Deacons glared at the prisoner, eyebrows narrowed. “You don’t recognize the name, do you? My father is George Deacons -- Weiland Epison’s head of security and highest ranking office in his private army. The boss wants a word with you, so I’m going to take you to him.”

  The Doctor gulped hard. “You’ll never get me out of here. There are so many guards, so many countermeasures.”

  Just then, an explosion reverberated through the facility. “Ah, right on time. You see Doc, the boss thought of that too. He thinks of everything. That’s why his office is a plush penthouse and why you are sitting in here with me.”

  “Epison will hang for this and you will all perish with him, you buffoon. How on Earth does he plan on getting away with this?”

  “I don’t know, Doc. Maybe he’ll blame the Chinese.” The interrogation room wall began to rumble and then exploded into powder. A prison transport vehicle crashed through and the rear door swung open. “Looks like our ride is here,” Deacons announced. He drove a knockout punch into The Doctor’s face knocking the prisoner unconscious. He threw the limp body into the back of the truck and wished The Doctor sweet dreams before slamming the door shut.

   

  To be continued in THE CRUSADERS: JUSTICE ABOVE ALL Volume 2: STANDING OUT

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

   

   

  Eric Steven Johnson has tried for years to avoid the writing bug, but like an addict he keeps coming back. When not fussing over word choices and sweating over editorial decisions, he passes the time by spending time with his lovely girlfriend and playing video games with his son.

 
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