President Clayton slammed the phone down hard enough that General Carlson heard something crack. “I want John Dale dead!” President Clayton roared. “I don’t care how you do it—fire bomb the entire Island if you need to—I just want him dead!”
General Carlson swallowed. He knew this was a delicate situation. “I understand, sir. Our men on the ground are doing the best they can.”
“It’s not good enough! He’s already killed the other six, General! Do you know what that means?”
Carlson did, but he shook his head anyway.
“It means that the whole world is angry, General. It means that everyone is clamoring for my head!” The President shoved himself away from his desk and began to pace. “Everyone saw the American flag on his shoulder. Add to it that the idiot went and killed everyone but the Americans, and now everyone thinks we are trying to cheat! It’s all gone to blazes!”
Carlson carefully maintained his neutral stance. He had to let the President’s anger run its course. In his heart, he was secretly cheering John Dale on. The man had exceeded all his expectations. In his hand, he held a report that had yet to be shown to the President. It was a report that had been released to all the major news outlets from around the world simultaneously. It was damning in ways that Carlson could not begin to comprehend.
The President continued his rant. “Heads of state from around the world are clamoring for my head. They are demanding that we return all the money that their citizens spent on the game—with interest! With interest!” He clawed at the air. “I don’t have that kind of money.” He looked sharply at his general. “Have you heard from the Mob?”
“No, sir. They’ve cut off communication. It seems they are none too popular at the moment either, and I suspect they are reluctant to return the money gained from the wagers on their game.”
Clayton shook his head and sat back down heavily. He put his hands in his head and began rubbing his temples. “Fantastic,” he muttered with heavy sarcasm. “This only means everyone will be coming after me now.” He looked up. “General, I really want John Dale dead. He has completely made a mockery of this entire enterprise.”
The General sighed. Oh well, might as well throw in another wrench. He cleared his throat. “Mr. President, that is not all he did.” He slid the report across the top of the President’s desk. “You’ll probably want to see this report.”
The President stared at it as one would a venomous snake. “Just tell me what it says,” he said tiredly.
“Captain Dale released a report to all the media outlets. You may recall that he still possesses one of the Ts2 Scanners. He rescanned the contestants’ brains after they had been there for over a month.” He hesitated, knowing that his next words would cause anger. He licked his lips. “Uh, the report shows that none of the three contestants harbor violent tendencies anymore—except normal survival instincts. It’s being discussed all over the news in every major country around the world.” He paused again. The President’s face showed nothing except a tightening around the eyes. This was an unexpected response. Licking his lips again, he plowed on. “The general consensus is that it was premature to condemn the three young people to death. Since they had not actually committed a crime—except for perhaps young Sylvester—they should have been rehabilitated, not sentenced to death. The entire Ts2 program is now in question.”
The President’s face had slowly turned livid as he listened to these words. “What are they saying about me?”
The General really didn’t want to say the next words, but he knew that the man would hear it soon anyway. “They are calling for your impeachment and removal.”
For a long moment, the President just sat there. His face, however, moved rapidly through a series of expressions and emotions. Finally he looked up. “It may come to that,” he said in a softer voice than expected. “I doubt that I’ll survive the political fallout. But I’ll be hanged if I don’t take John Dale out with me. The man has exceeded his authority! I just wanted an observer to keep the Mob in check! Why did the man have to interfere?”
“He is an idealist, Mr. President. I seriously doubt that he could just remain idly by and watch an injustice done.”
“They were condemned murderers, General! There was no injustice.”
“Apparently not from his perspective. He now has the data to support his position.”
Taking a deep breath, the President tapped a button on his view screen. “What is the status of our men?”
“They’ve gone dark as you requested, but we’ve been able to determine that John somehow was able to secure an uplink through the oil platform off shore. This is how he was able to transmit the report to the media. We sent the coordinates to our men in the field of where the transmission originated from. I suspect they are moving in as we speak.”
“Good. General, keep the wolves at bay for a while longer. I want to see Dale dead before I have to deal with the rest of this.”
To the Carlson, the President’s behavior was unbecoming. He silently wished both John and Trigger well. Fortunately, the President didn’t know anything about Trigger; hopefully it would remain that way.