Manufractured - Book 1 of 3

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Since the day he was arrested, the authorities believed Dwight Wagner had been holding back valuable information relating to the extremist criminal underground in America. Dave Perry, who had briefly met Dwight during a couple of prior court hearings, was looking forward to his first opportunity to interview him.

During the last several days, Dave had researched Dwight's background and criminal history. Knowing that Dwight was facing the death penalty, Dave realized it would be difficult, as proven by Dwight's prior interviews with authorities, to obtain information. However, Dave had a plan that he was confident would work.

The guards brought Dwight into the interrogation room, and he dropped into a chair across the long, narrow table from Dave. Dwight's shackles rattled as he settled. He'd been incarcerated long enough that his military-style brush cut had grown out. He stared directly into Dave's eyes. "What the hell am I doing here? Don't you guys understand I have nothing to say? You've had shrink after shrink try to analyze who I am, and it's all a waste of time."

Dave opened Dwight's file and shook his head. "Let me see... wow, that's quite a load of artillery for a lowlife street gang." He looked up at Dwight. "And judging from these prior interviews, I guess you have no plans on telling us where it all came from." He looked back down at the file. "What else do we have here? A plan to bomb six government buildings all in one shot—rather ambitious, I must say." Dave looked up again. "Tell me, Mr. Wagner—why so angry?"

Dwight looked at him and snickered in response. "It's people like you who fuel my fire, Mr. Perry—Peace-Bringer cowards who are running this country into the ground. You and your kind sicken me. How can people like you run a country when you don't know what it's like to suffer? How can you know what it's like, growing up on the streets, not knowing if you'll live to see tomorrow?"

Dave stared right back at him. "Oh, so you think you know all about me?" He took out his flash-pad. "We have far more in common than you think, my friend. Let me enlighten you. This is Newark, New Jersey. Do you see these streets? This is where I grew up as an orphan. This alleyway, right here—this is where I spent many nights, not knowing if I would be alive in the morning."

"Why the hell are you telling me all this?" Dwight snarled.

"Do you see this building? One night I went right to the top. Just as I was ready to plunge to my death, two security guards grabbed me. I was able to break free and run away. The next morning one of the street kids I hung out with got me a laser-gun—again, I was ready to end it all."

Dwight slammed his hands against the table and leaned back. "Why do I have to listen to this crap?"

"I lay on a park bench, unconscious, my entire body trembling, until a man named Mr. Posey came to my aid. He and his wife devoted their lives to helping troubled youth in the area. He sat down beside me, casually, and said a few kind words of encouragement— and amazingly, I just handed him that gun. That's all it took. I realized I just needed someone to show me they cared. For the next six months I stayed at the shelter they ran, which helped to at least give me some sort of direction."

"And then, let me guess—you turned your life around and miraculously, you went on to become the number one scumbag lawyer in America," Dwight sneered.

"Oh no, it wasn't that easy. I spent the next few years still trying to get my life together, but I kept relapsing. Finally I began seeing a counselor for my addictions. During our first session he really got to me. I knew he was speaking the truth about my life, and it ripped at my soul. I told him I needed a break and went into the bathroom. I began splashing cold water onto my face, and when I raised my head and looked in the mirror, I noticed a bright flashing sign above me that read BELIEVE—one simple, yet powerful word. That moment changed my life."