This week: Mercy isn’t something we do for them. It’s something we do for ourselves.

48 States: Chapters 38 & 39

THIRTY EIGHT

ELIZABETH OPENED HER EYES MOMENTARILY, but had to close them because of the smoke. Sounds were coming through, partially garbled. She thought she heard shouting, maybe even the whine of a fire engine, but couldn’t be sure. Aware of something heavy pressing on her legs, she pushed herself up in the darkness. She leaned forward and used her fingers to cautiously feel what was there. She was horrified to make out what felt like an arm or shoulder, and then she remembered. Cooper! He’d tried to shield her from the blast.

Unable to move and unsure if she’d be rescued, Elizabeth began to make peace with the situation. She’d abandoned religion after witnessing the unrestrained carnage at the shopping mall. The violence that day ripped her faith from her. She would not become a hypocrite now by asking for God’s mercy at the eleventh hour. She thanked the universe for reuniting her with her son and husband. She was going to die with her family nearby, and with her husband knowing that she loved him. And she knew with certainty that he loved her. That was more than many people had at the end. It would have to be enough.

Her mind returned to the moment when she first saw Richard standing at the rear doors of the Convention Center. At the sight of him, her body had begun to quiver like a sixteen-year-old in the back seat of a car at midnight. The moment felt almost as fraught, those seconds between two people unsure how or if they will fit together. She’d plunged in to embrace him. Richard had leaned in, close enough for only her to hear, saying, “There are no words that can repair what I have done, Lizzie, but poor idiot that I am, I want to come home to my wife, whom I love. Can you forgive me?” She did, of course.

The Richard she’d woken up next to the morning after their long separation was older, but by more than the two years they’d been apart. Experience had aged him, like a grape in a barrel, all of his sharpness erased. She knew the situation well, presidential years being like dog years, the wear and tear the equivalent of many lifetimes. One year felt like a decade, especially to someone sleeping four hours a night. That first night, Richard told her stories of his visits to the refugee cities, and of his great shame at walking out. It was an honest conversation, and although she did not apologize for creating the Territories, she did express her desire to try to make things right.

It occurred to her, as she watched the flames licking at her heels, that she might not be able to keep her promise. She also thought about her speech the night before, hoping it would be a catalyst for change, and that there would be elections. And, if there was any cosmic justice, that Red was dead inside the flaming mess before her, his poisonous plans along with him. When she reviewed the facts, the odds seemed good for a favorable outcome, better than she could have hoped for given the people she was dealing with. She let out a breath and lay back down, preparing for what would come next.

RIVER WAS LYING in bed, sulking, when she heard the explosion. Recognizing the sound, she threw off the covers and rummaged around the room for clothing, a routine she’d performed a half dozen times before in the Army, when a suicide bomber attacked their compound.

“What is it?” Finn asked, half awake and confused.

“Bomb! You need to get up and find your dad,” she said. “Then find Cooper and call the police and the FBI.”

River heard Finn asking, “Where are you going?” but it was too late; she was already out the door, gun in hand. As soon as she got outside, River could see one of the railcars partially engulfed in flames. Guards were moving in all directions, speaking into their radios to try to get a handle on what had happened. The chaos made it easy for her to run towards the train car without being intercepted. She bounded inside, nearly tripping over the President and Cooper. River knelt down to look for a pulse. The President opened her eyes as soon as River grabbed her wrist.

“I should’ve known you’d be the first one in,” Elizabeth said hoarsely.

“Shhh,” River said, gingerly checking the President for injuries. “Can you move? I don’t want to risk staying in here with the fire.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I’m OK,” she said, pointing to the body slumped over her legs. “Cooper saved me.”

“He’s next,” River said as she carefully moved Cooper off the President’s legs. “Let’s get you out of here.” She took Elizabeth’s hand and picked her up in a fireman’s carry. As she emerged from the car, two Secret Service agents were waiting, their guns drawn. “Hold your fire,” she yelled. “This is the President. She’s alive but needs medical attention. We’ve got one more inside.”

The agents lowered their weapons and allowed River to place Elizabeth on the ground. She laid her down gently, relinquishing her care to them as she ran back inside. Cooper was sitting up when she returned, dazed but coming to his senses. It was then that she noticed the legs of his pants were ragged and charred, the skin below an angry mess.

“Did you get her out?” he yelled.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “You’re next.”

“Negative,” he said. “I need you to conduct a search and check for other survivors. There was a bomber, a young man, and Red is in here, too.”

River raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. Scanning the room, she noticed a large blast hole in the floor at the far end of the car, the scorched gravel and twisted rails below easily visible. Flames were still active in places, making it difficult to conduct a thorough search. She caught sight of a fire extinguisher bolted to the wall, and thinking she could use it to knock down the fire, started towards it, stopping midway when something hit her foot. She looked down to see an arm sticking out of the debris. Bile rose up in her throat as she knelt to get a closer look, remembering too well the gruesomeness of the injuries she’d witnessed in Syria.

She was a hair’s breadth away when the battered remains of a man’s hand sprang up and grabbed the hand she was using to hold her gun. The ferocity of Red’s grip surprised her, his eyes wild with pain, as he rose up like some macabre marionette, his grasp never wavering. She was eye to eye with him, trying not to look at the gaping hole where the lower part of his mouth had been. Wordlessly, Red tried to pull her gun to his own head. She resisted, using all of her strength to keep her arm and the gun low and down at her side. Red was undeterred, fighting with everything he had left to take himself out of this world on his own terms.

The sight of him should have been terrifying; instead, it made her angry. The privileged CEO who’d tried to hunt her down like a dog and kill Finn to protect his empire had no stomach for suffering. He wanted a quick end to his pain; a kindness she knew he would not ever have extended to them. It was also a benevolence life had not extended to her since her father died.

“No,” River said, shaking her head. Standing in the wreckage, all the rage she’d been holding onto came rushing forth, hot tears forming at the corners of her eyes as she struggled against her better self to deprive him of the peace he sought. “No,” she said again, her arm beginning to shudder from the strain of holding him back. She was about to ask why he deserved any mercy after the things he’d done when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll do it,” Cooper said, standing unsteadily behind her, his face contorted with pain. “Go outside and leave this to me.”

River nodded. At the sight of Cooper, Red let go of her hand, allowing her to turn and run for the exit. She did not look back, even when she heard the shot.

---

THIRTY NINE

COOPER RAISED the back of his hospital bed, pressing the button until his body was upright enough to read comfortably. Damn his legs hurt. He would walk again, but the new skin on his shins would need an extra dose of sunscreen from here on out. He wasn’t complaining. The suicide vest the boy had been wearing hadn’t fully detonated. If it had, the whole train car would have been incinerated, and there wouldn’t have been enough of them left to fill a Dixie Cup. He liked to think it was fate returning a favor for his good deeds, but deep down, he knew it was just dumb luck that saved his life.

CEO OF UNIVERSAL INDUSTRIES DIES IN FIERY CAR CRASH

By Frank Smith, Associated Press

(Houston, TX) -- Redmond Pierce, President and Chief Executive Officer of Universal Industries, the company responsible for managing the United States Energy Territories in conjunction with the US Department of Energy, has died in a car crash near his home, a spokesman for the company said.

Local authorities, who have not released the time or date of his death, cautioned that the accident remains under investigation, but did confirm that Pierce was behind the wheel when his car hit a tree at high speed and burst into flames, killing him instantly.

Although a national figure, recognized by President of the United States Elizabeth Cunningham for his role in helping establish the Territories, his family has said there will be no public memorial service. A private ceremony is expected in the next few days, but no further information was available at press time.

Cooper set the tablet he’d been reading from on his lap. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but a whimper, he reflected, his legs beginning to itch. It seemed incredible to him that after everything, Red should die anonymously, denied both a hero’s funeral and a traitor’s shame.

“Are you reading about Red?” Elizabeth asked, walking into his room.

“Madam President,” Cooper said, looking up as she entered. “I would get up but….”

“That’s quite alright.”

“It was a smart move,” Cooper said, pointing to his iPad. “But no one will ever know what he tried to do.”

Elizabeth pulled one of the room’s chairs up to the side of the bed. “It’s better that way,” she said. “Martyrs are like dry grass and gasoline. One spark of foolish hope on those right-wing radio stations could reignite his rebellion. We did the American people a favor killing Red off in a car accident.”

“What about the explosion?”

Elizabeth smiled. “It seems there was a freak propane explosion at the Denver rail yard that damaged a few cars, but no one was injured.”

“You’ve been busy,” he said.

“I’m not one for cover-ups and conspiracies, but this was a good use of the government’s resources.”

“What about the boy?” Cooper asked.

Elizabeth had called Joshua’s mother to offer her condolences, parent to parent. Joshua had been brave, she told her. His quick thinking had saved lives. Elizabeth could tell by the whoosh of breath over the line as his mother exhaled that she had done the right thing. Although she could never tell anyone, at least the woman would know the truth, although either way, his death was senseless.

As for Joshua, Elizabeth hoped that in the last few fleeting moments–and maybe for the first time in his short life–he felt the sense of purpose and usefulness he craved so desperately. It pained her that she was only able to try to deliver such sought-after solace at the end of the boy’s life. If only she could repair the broken souls of the people in this country, Elizabeth thought…now that would be something.

“He was killed in a car crash in Denver,” Elizabeth said. “We asked the local police to tell the press he’d been in town to look at junior colleges.”

“That about ties up all the loose ends,” Cooper said.

“I’ve left a few out there to fix later,” she said.

“Hopefully, it includes something to keep me busy,” Cooper said.

“You can be certain of that,” she said. “I didn’t come here to talk about work, though. I came here to thank you for saving my life. My injuries were minor thanks to your selflessness. We both know your leg wounds were meant for me.”

“You’re welcome,” Cooper said. “It’s not often the President of the United States comes to visit an average Joe like me. And, if we’re being honest, I’ve always wanted to stay in a private room at Walter Reed. I’d like to thank you and the government for the generosity. If I may ask, where’s the rest of your security detail?”

“Outside in the hallway,” she said. “I told them I wanted to speak with you privately. I appreciate your humor, but all joking aside, if it weren’t for you, this could have turned out very differently. In addition to saving me, you protected Finn and helped him and River escape.”

“Well, when you describe it like that, it does sound important. The doctors tell me I’m healing nicely,” Cooper said, pointing at his shins. “Before you know it, I’ll be ready to go back to work and get the Terri-tories straightened out for you.”

“All in good time,” she said. “The job is yours when you’re ready. The FBI forensics team is examining what’s left of the explosives for some kind of marker, a way to trace it back to the maker. The national security team thinks the supplies will end up being Russian or belonging to one of their satellites, since the materials are restricted in this country.”

“It’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Cooper said. “But it will also be harder for them to try to interfere in our affairs again.”

“I don’t know about that,” Elizabeth said. “The Russians love disruption. They resent our reputation for infallibility. What I’m still trying to process is Red. How do we explain his actions? He managed to recruit an army to turn against their own country. We’re fortunate that his efforts were not discovered. It would be hugely destabilizing, the idea that these right-wing websites can actually help ignite a violent insurrection. These people know nothing about how to govern.”

“You’re overthinking this,” Cooper said. “There was no plan. Red just wanted more Territories, and he didn’t care who got in the way. He had no idea what he was going to do after he collapsed the government. I’m certain of it. But he also probably believed that whatever happened, he’d handle it,” Cooper said. “It’s all a game. The responsibility of actual governing is too boring a subject for men like Red.”

“My only regret is that I can’t prosecute some of the people who helped him,” Elizabeth said. “But that would only create more conspiracy stories and animosity and give them the attention they crave.”

“I have a feeling there will be other opportunities,” Cooper said, his eyelids beginning to grow heavy. “And River? What happened to her after I sent her out of the train car? In the chaos, I didn’t see her again. Did she tell you about Red? He tried to grab her gun. I found them in a struggle. She did not seem inclined to help him end things. My god, she is a tough one. I relieved her of the burden before she had to decide.”

“Do you blame her?” Elizabeth asked.

“No,” he said, his eyelids lowering. “But mercy isn’t something we do for them. It’s something we do for ourselves.”

“You know, for an ex-soldier, you’re a deep guy,” the President said, watching Cooper fall asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. “Sleep well. I wish you and I both sweet dreams from here on out.”