Power Play (Book 2)

Chapter 19: Presidential Veto

"You are under arrest for terrorist acts including assaults on Federal agents, and the infiltration-" he says, but I cut him off.

"Yeah, I've heard that list before. Listen, I'm just here to talk. I haven't hurt anyone since I landed-"

He cuts me off in return, raising his voice and continuing where he left off. "...the infiltration and attack on a Government Air Force Installation, and the theft and release of classified information of National Security."

"Wow, he's had a bit of an upgrade since his last suit," says Tyler. "We're having a hard time getting into the White House cameras, but there's like a hundred people streaming this live from the street. Be careful."

"See what you can figure out about his new suit," I whisper in reply. "I don't think I'm going to be able to end this like I did last time."

"If you do not surrender immediately, I am authorized to use extreme measures," Dryer informs me. He sounds hopeful.

"I think dressing up in a giant robotic suit and destroying the White House landscaping already qualifies as extreme measures," I tell him, gesturing at the colossal mess around us. "Look what you did to the President's lawn! This is all on you, man. I just wanted to talk. How about you come with me and we go see the President together? Then you can protect him from any words of mine you don't like."

"People can't just walk in and talk to the President, especially you," he says.

"Yeah, but isn't that maybe part of the problem? He's so cut off from regular people he may not even know what's really going on," I say.

The Secret Service agents have scattered, including their head honcho. They could probably see which way this unfortunately seems to be headed.

"That's not for you to decide," he says. "This is your last warning. Do you surrender?"

"No, I'm not surrendering," I say, and Dryer starts swinging as soon as that first word leaves my lips, and he catches me with a massive blow. He hits me so hard his metal fist makes a resounding clang against my ribs. I tuck up my arm to absorb some of the impact, but it isn't enough.

I sail into the air like he threw me, flying up off the lawn, over the rear patio of the White House, and right through the back southeastern wall. I skid for a few feet into the Vermeil room, flipping end over end before coming to a stop.

"Wow! You okay?" asks Tyler.

What has this idiot done? Never in a million years would I want to hurt this place. Even just trying to talk causes irreperable damage when I'm involved.

Carpet is torn, chunks of plaster fall from the open holes. Who knows what priceless artifacts were just crushed to bits. This isn't just a building, this is history. I grind my teeth as I stand, gingerly brushing off a layer of settling dust.

"Brandon, speak to us! We can't see you in there," says Susan.

"I'll be leaving. I'm going to need you to help me find open space nearby."

"Open space? In Washington D.C.? Everything is-"

"Do it," I snarl.

I reach into my belt and pull out my mask. Dryer takes a long jump over the patio and lands with a heavy crunch just outside the hole I created.

"We're now going to add defacement of a protected monument to your crimes," he says.

I slide my mask down. I tuck it in. The filtered lenses expand my vision. I open my senses. My nanobots hum.

"Son, I beat you once. You remember that?" I ask.

He clenches his fists.

"Good. So let me teach you something about the importance of history."