Penman Panic: Author's Club Takes Over the World!

Part 4: Country

Penman Panic: Nation

Grace was in. After swapping places with a rather unwilling U.K. ambassador’s assistant, she found herself on the expressway to the president. Not that it had come without cost. Her attire was as dreary as Manchester. That was pretty dreary. Still, she kept her face perky and smiling. If you did that, dressed professionally and had your hair in a bun, no ambassador could tell you apart from any other minor bureaucrat. She had originally paid attention to their conversation, but it was beyond dull. It was British politics. No wonder she left.

They meandered through the building, occasionally seeing someone important; sounds of shouting from congress halls. The off and on bribe. Very, very dull. At least in parliament they went at each other with canes. This was just… beige. No other way to describe it. Mellow, boring, and inoffensive.

At last they entered into the meeting chamber. Four guards were aside him, heads shaven to a mirror polish, just in case the president needed to check if something was caught in his mouth before a press event. Other than the usual foot, that is. Four, she thought. Certainly doable, especially with Sadie in the vents. The potted plant next to her sneezed.

“Bless you.” Said the filing cabinet. The president facepalmed, apologized, and the meeting continued as normal. Slightly more than four, thought Grace. Could be worse.

Sadie was well on her way to the room. She had made a keypass out of a lunch card and her driver’s license. That was literally it. Between her lanyard, clipboard and annoyed expression, she had full access to the facility. Looks were everything. That’s what made her so dangerous. She was savvy with this sort of thing. She attributed it to some website she simultaneously claimed to have ruined her life. No one was certain, but her results were impressive.

She knew she was getting closer. Security kept getting tighter. Soon enough her fake pass wouldn’t be enough.  The Oh Crap Moment came when she saw the security checkpoint. Completely automated. No one to be a femme fatale on and cause a heel face turn to get past this insurmountable waist-high fence (Translation: she couldn’t seduce anyone into changing sides to get past this obstacle). Stealth was her only option. The guard couldn’t help but notice the girl clambering over his table loudly singing the Mission Impossible theme, but he didn’t bother getting up. What could one girl do?

After getting past the obstacle seemingly undetected, Sadie wasted no time. She slinked down to the tunnel entrance, opening it. All of DC was interconnected by these, letting important people get away in case of emergency. The hilarious reverse to this was that anyone who knew about them and had half a brain in architecture to find them could go from the Smithsonian to the White House with an absurdly small amount of security. Spencer came in through the open doorway, still grinning, still eerie. That kid had an aura of unsafe happiness, almost like a time bomb hidden inside a stuffed unicorn. “C’mon,” she said, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him. “We’re late.”

They’re late. That was all Grace could think. Plastic and ceramic gun bootstrapped to her side, three shots in the clip and one in the chamber. Not enough. They were late. If those two twits weren’t here in the next four or five minutes, the deal would be closed. America would get its surveillance tapes, Britain would keep its monopoly on grey, foggy skies.

The door opened, and Grace breathed a sigh of relief. Turning, the relief sucked itself back into her. Yes, it was her two friends. But they were also suspended a foot above the ground, disarmed by a burly man that seemed to generate a gravitational field from the sheer density of his muscles, each seeming to breathe with its own life. “Mr. President,” began the man. “I just stopped these two.”

Grace gathered herself. There was only one way. “What should they do?” she inquired, pulling out her pad of paper for the first time, trying to look interested.

The man laughed. “Staying still would be good. Trying to run and fight? That would be bad.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up. He relaxed into the man’s hold. Time for an evil deed. Flipping the man casually over his shoulder like some sort of overgrown duffle bag, he walked forward. Everyone, though most were fully armed, sat stock still. He picked up a pen off the desk, threw it at the plant, stabbing the agent right in between the eyes as if he was the world dart champion. Ceiling fan-man ran for the door, only to be caught in the femoral artery with a ballpoint. Sadie and Grace, now fully recovered, pulled out their guns. After trimming down the nonessential personnel, the three took the president and ambassador out at gun/penpoint.

The rest of the team was waiting in the tunnels below the NSA headquarters. Dylan and Jaden, the techsperts, had linked in a laptop and had broken through the firewalls. They had access to everything the NSA had access to. In short, all of the country. They glanced up, Dylan smirking.

“Everyone ready?”

They all nodded. The camera was set up to broadcast their message. Jaden had control of all the domestic drones and all the security systems in the country. Kassandra got up in front of the camera, now in uniform. Dark, black leather coats with a pen emblazoned across the back, along with the club motto: Visse Auctor. The rest of the team stood behind her, sans Jaden, who was running all the computer equipment. At a nod, the cameras went live to every screen in the United States of America.

“Hello, citizens. We are the WHSAA, the organization who now runs the place. We have total control now. We can touch anything. You cannot stop us. This is a coup. We have your country. But fear not. We are not vile, dreadful people. We are just a change in leadership.”

“You are powerless to stop us. We have all access to missiles, drones, and soon enough, the military itself. We are not afraid to act, but we will not strike first. So rejoice! There is no need for strife! We will rebuild everything. So enjoy this age of prosperity. Sarah, the second in command here, will explain how the changes are going to go down. But in short: You are ours now. WHSAA has taken over the country.”