The Guilty Mantra by Badd Words LLC

Guilty Mantra by John B Badd

The last words Perry Arnold remembered hearing played over and over in his mind like the lyrics to a bad song heard one-too-many times: “We the jury, find the defendant guilty on all counts....” His guilty verdict was delivered weeks ago, yet he continued to hear the words: “guilty on all counts...murder....” His face held no expression as the judge delivered the sentence. He did not speak. For Perry the trial was never about his freedom, it was for his sanity. The murder of his wife inflicted mental lacerations and the events that followed ripped deeper into his soul. They pulled his infant daughter, Sanyu, from his arms, bellowing their charges, “Mister Perry Arnold, you are under arrest for the murder of Misses Jolien Harford-Arnold.” He smashed his fist into the mouth of the accusing officer, silencing his outrageous claims. His baby screamed in fear and confusion when officers shot him with holding-foam. It was like swimming in waffle batter that hardened to stone in moments. He could not move his limbs. His fierce eyes followed his

wailing child as she was taken. He tried to call her name but the sedative in the foam which penetrated his flesh was already taking control. The room faded to darkness quicker than his life had. Perry tried to profess his innocents down at the 6th district precinct. In the interrogation room the detectives flashed gruesome death pictures of his wife as they told him how he slaughtered her while his daughter lay awake in the next room. He tried to reach them, to rip the lies from them. The thin flexible walls of the honeycomb structure around his seat held as his fingers turned white, then bled when he tried to force his way free. “I did not murder my wife you sick fucks!” “With a temper like that it's no surprise you killed the cheating bitch when you found that video,” the detective said. Just as the charges against him fueled his rage, the charges against his wife exhausted his resolve. He knew they were lying. But the evidence surmounted over the next few days. When his lawyer finally showed him the video of a strange man inside his wife he wanted to kill her; then he remembered she was already dead. He smashed the video player and launched it at his lawyer’s head before being subdued by the guard. By the time the prosecution showed the

video in court he did not even flinch, only a few tears ran down his tired face. His lawyer wanted him to plead guilty to murder in the second degree, but he maintained his innocence. By time the jury left to deliberate his verdict even he had begun to wonder if he was guilty. The verdict did not surprise him, “We the jury, find the defendant guilty on all counts...,” but it did cost him what was left of his sanity. He heard the words over and over, in the waking hours and in his nightmares. The lyrics to that bad song played over and over. The first few weeks were easy. Perry's body moved where the system told it to as his broken mind danced to the guilty mantra that had set him upon his path. However, he was no good to the system in his vegetative state of mind, so they assigned a psychiatrist to lure him back to the world of the productive. It was a slow, painful process. Speaking again was easy enough. Even admitting his guilt was not so hard now that he had accepted it. But the self realization that came along with admitting his guilt caused conflict for Perry, and his doctor wanted to rectify that conflict. The fact that he could not remember Jolien's death, or any of the events that led up to it, caused what the doctor told him was “a short in your logical processors.” He expressed his wish to die for his crime. He found irony in the fact that

the death penalty had been abolished because it was inhumane, yet he was forced to live with a guilt ridden agony that was more torturous than any method of execution. He laughed at that idea; it was the first time he laughed since his wife's death. His journey to become a productive member of the criminal justice system progressed more rapidly from there. “I see you are a civil engineer,” his psychiatrist said. “I was before...” Perry looked down, “yes I am.” “You know The Correctional Institute could use someone with your skills. You can do some good here. And a percentage of your income will even be put into an educational trust for your daughter, Sanyu.” “Doc, I'll never get to see her you know. Jolien's parents have full custody now. They told my lawyer that she would never even know I was alive. The courts backed their decision.” “Yes, that is a shame for you both. But you never know, they may change their mind. Or, she may seek you out on her own. Until then, Perry, you can help her by making the world she lives in a better place.”

Perry began work in The Institute's research and development department a short time later. He drowned his memories in his work, after the first few years he even managed to quiet the guilty mantra that plagued his thoughts. By the end of the fifth year of his life sentence he was in charge of an expansion project that created cost effective living structures for inmates closer to their assigned jobs, thus reducing the strain and cost of transportation while increasing productivity. After that he worked directly with the transportation division's planing and development center to expand The Institute's roads and tracks to better fit the needs of the growing prison population. He then went to the agricultural division and helped their top architects develop new vertical farms which produced enough food to feed the population of The Correctional Institute while leaving enough left over to distribute to the free citizens. His contributions to the system along with his good behavior earned him honors as well as several enticing perks that were only available to the highest order of prisoners. Twenty five years passed and Perry worked most of his waking hours, breaking only for food, exercise, a few hours of recreation each day, and the weekly conjugal visit set up through The

Institute's “extra curricular” division. It was just such a visit that now had Perry anxiously trying to relax in his apartment. His room was one of the finest available to inmates. It was more luxurious than most of the quarters assigned to the prison guards. His four hundred square foot space included a comfortable living room with a full wall video monitor. It had an integrated audio system with a wide range of music. The video was however closed circuit and censored, and the music was limited to instrumental only, both of these standards were set by the psychiatric division of the Office of the Surgeon General in order to “maintain a peaceful and balanced mind.” Perry sat back on his bed and sipped his glass of red wine. He listened to a soft techno-jazz infusion with a calming sound and a deep beat that vibrated to his core. The wall monitor displayed a fantasy beach with rolling waves and two setting suns, the left sun was the yellow of Earth's while the one on the right was a deep blue. Their reflection danced on the ocean's waves like a thousand stars moving to its rhythm in an imaginary sky. He could hear the low swishing of the waves under the jazzy melody, and thanks to his new scent-o-graph he could detect the slight odor of sea salt, which complemented his Merlot.

A knock at the door broke Perry's peaceful trance and he rose to meet his guest. “Open,” he commanded. The smooth pastel-yellow pocket-door hissed as it slid into the wall. He did not recognize the young woman, but he was familiar with the sector guard who accompanied her. “Good evening Ma'am,” he gave her a slight bow. “Harold,” he nodded to the guard. “Mister Arnold,” the guard spoke, “allow me to present Miss Sharon Lovejoy. She will be your guest this evening.” “Miss Lovejoy, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please come in.” He turned to the guard, “Thank you Harold, I will call when she is ready to return.” Harold smiled, giving an exaggerated wink, “Have a good night Mister Arnold.” He glanced around the apartment, more out of professional habit than necessity, before turning to go. “Close,” Perry said to the computer as he watched Sharon move around his apartment. She stopped to admire the sunsets on his wall monitor and he paused to admire her. He dark hair flowed in tight waves down to her bare shoulders. Her green strapless dress was thin enough that it hung in all the right places showing her sensual

curves. Her bare legs had the muscular tone of an active lifestyle. He followed her sleek legs down to the delicate green slippers that adorned her feet, and then back up to her slender neck. The soft smell of her perfume aroused him and it grew stronger as he moved beside her. “Beautiful, isn't it,” he asked. “Very. Do ya' see many blue suns?” Parry tried to place her slight accent, it was unfamiliar to him. He responded, “It was designed by one of our top programers. The color options are vast. I was having some wine, would you like a glass?” She brushed against him as she turned and their eyes met, “Yah, wine sounds wonderful.” He moved to pour her a glass but was detracted by the rustle of his bed sheets. They skipped the wine. Sharon was beautiful, and if prison had taught Perry anything it was to savor whatever beauty he could find. He did not rush. He slid the silky green dress from her bronze skin, softly kissing each new area he uncovered as if he were discovering new lands. He absorbed her warmth into his flesh as he inhaled her intoxicating perfume and tasted the sweet oils covering

her body. Their lips met then parted as he entered her, the heat from her moan moistened his neck and they let the rhythm of the music make them one. They moved like the waves, rolling and rising. Time had no meaning, Sharon cried out, “Oh god yes,” and he let go inside her. He kissed her softly and rolled to the side, they recovered their breath in silence. After basking for a few minutes Perry sat up, ready to stand. Sharon wrapped her arm around his chest and pulled herself to him, he felt the her hot breath on his ear as her nipples pressed against his back. She whispered, “I need to talk to ya' Perry.” “Sharon, you were great, you know. But I am not one for pleasantries. I need to get some sleep, I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I will call the guards and they will send someone to retrieve you.” He tried to pull a way but she tightened her hold. “Ya' don't understand Perry,” she whispered into his ear, “they can hear us, so this was the only way I could get close enough--” “What are you talking about,” Perry demanded in a hushed tone. He turned to face her, rising to his knees and breaking her hold on him. He grabbed both her arms just below her shoulders and pulled

her in so their faces almost touched. “This is a prison, of course they can here us. What do you mean get close enough to me?” “Perry, I know ya're innocent. I know ya' didn't murder yar wife.” It had been years since Perry had discussed his wife with anyone, even his psychiatrist. It had been decades since he thought of himself as innocent. He had buried that chapter of his life, and the pain that came with it. And now this women he just met, who just screwed him for profit, claimed she knew he was innocent. His right hand flew to her throat and she was slammed hard into the headboard. Her air was cut off, she could not scream. He pinned her down with his legs and used his free hand easily block her attempted blows. His mouth pressed against her ear. “You think you know me, Sharon? I am not innocent. I murdered my wife in cold blood! And I loved her...imagine what I could do to you.” Perry noticed the wide eyed expression of terror on the young woman’s face and he felt as if someone reached their hands inside of him and twisted his stomach. He let go of her and fell to the side of the bed, bile erupted from his gut and flew from his mouth as if his guilt was spilling forth a sour apology.

He turned, expecting to see the girl fleeing his apartment, but she was exactly where he left her. She had pulled the covers up to hide her naked body. Tears flowed down her face and she was visibly shaking. “I am sorry,” he whispered moving his head back and fort. Then to justify his actions, “You should not have mentioned my wife. You do not know what I have gone through...or what I am capable of.” He was surprised when she moved to him and put her arms around him. She whispered in his ear, “Perry, I know yar daughter, Sanyu.” “What...how?” He moved to grasp her arms and stopped short. He clasped his hand together in front of him, squeezing tight to keep himself from loosing control. “She and I, we are both investigative reporters,” she said. “We work fer the same news firm.” “Sanyu is a reporter...like Jolien, her mother,” his voice began to break as he spoke his wife's name. Tears filled his eyes, clinging to his lids like he was clinging to his shaken sanity. “Tell me about Sanyu, tell me about my daughter.”

“She's strong. For years she thought ya' and her mother died in a car wreck. When she started high school she began to search for more information, it was all over the cyber-archives. She hated ya' at first for taking away her mother. Then she discovered her mothers video journals. The way ya' two acted when ya' were together, especially when she was born, she just could not believe ya' would kill the woman ya' loved. By her senior year her search for answers brought her to Jack Collins at the Saint Louis Post.” “He was Jolien's boss,” Perry interrupted. “We used to go out for drinks.” “Ya', he loved yar wife dearly. And he instantly took to Sanyu. He took her under his wing in fact. She began to work for him, just like her mother. She always sensed he was hiding something from her. It was several years before she had the courage to confront him. He told her he knew ya' were not guilty. But there was nothing he could do to stop them. They would kill his family if he tried.” “Who would?” “The Correctional Institute, well, their parent company Kreios, to be exact. Yar wife was investigating them before her death. She found links between their board of directors and entities throughout

the justice system, including folks ranging from police officers to judges. Kreios had been pumping out record profits for years even though many of their product lines were failing. She met a man on the inside named Larry Deblanc, who had been working with Kreios since his internship twelve years earlier. Larry proved that the prison was being run as a profitable business, but the crime was they were recruiting like one as well. Ya' see, the output of the prison was increasing just as more people were being given harsher sentences due to the Zero Tolerance Act of 2025. “I remember when that act passed,” said Perry, “ it caused all kinds of commotion.” “Ya, it was passed by members of congress who began receiving large campaign contributions from Kreios shortly after. Jolien was getting all of her facts straight with the intention of going public. She told Jack the story was going to rock every boat in the ocean and likely cause a few tidal waves. He gave her the go ahead to release it to all the major news sources at once. But she was murdered before he even got a chance to see her report.”

“Where is this Larry Deblanc? He might still have the evidence.” “He died several hours after news of your wife's murder broke. The media blamed you for that as well but you were already in custody when they died. The police called it a murder-suicide. It looked like he slit his wife's throat and then hung himself with his belt.” “Why did they try to blame that on me?” “Larry Deblanc was the man on the sex tape with yar wife. Our theory is they were forced to have sex under threat to their lives. They were probably told the tape was going to be used to black mail them, to keep them from releasing the damning information. These people we are up against, they are fueled by greed. There is no limit to what they will do to protect their interest. The story they fabricated was that Larry was in love with Jolien and he sent ya' the tape in an attempt to end yar marriage. They used phone records and pictures of them secretly meeting to prove it was a long term affair. Of course their meetings were only business, mind ya'. They claimed after ya'...after she died he could not take it, so he killed his wife and then himself.

Because of Deblanc's high level of security clearance, which he needed to work with The Correctional Institute because of its federal jurisdiction, the Feds were able to get warrants and confiscate all of Jolien's files and computers. They used National Security as the reasoning and said Larry may have been seduced into giving up secrets that would threaten the integrity of the nations prison system. They raided the Post and pulled every file she had ever touched. It was almost as if she never worked there. That is why Jack never tried to go after 'em. He knew they would destroy him. He lived with that guilt for years until Sanyu cornered him in his office one afternoon demanding answers. Telling her the truth lifted his burden. Helping her bring down Kreios is going to be his retribution.” Perry sprung to his feet, “She can't!” He realized he was speaking to loud and bent closer to Sharon to speak in a hushed tone, “You guys can not go after The Institute, it is too dangerous. Jolien would not want her daughter on some insane quest for revenge. Leave us to our fate, go live your lives.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her lightly. “Please.”

Sharon shook her head, “Ya' have no idea what has been going on out there do ya'? Do ya' think ya're the only person they have done this to? They only reason ya' were not part of a murder-suicide is that they needed an engineer. Ten years ago they passed the Debt Responsibility Act. Now anyone who can not pay their bills is moved into a debtors' prison until they can work off what they owe to the banks.” “They can't do that.” “Can't? Ha-ha. They did it, hun. And the nation has been in a world of hurt ever since.” “Why did you come to me? What do you need me for?” “Yar daughter needs ya'. She has enough information to expose Kreios. But if she releases that information while ya' are in here they will use ya' to get to her. Ya' have to escape.” “And where would I go?” Perry stood up and retrieved the bottle of wine from the kitchen table, he tilted the bottle back taking several gulps before wiping his mouth on his bare arm. He brought the bottle to Sharon and she took a swig before passing it back.

“Perry,” she whispered, “we have people in this prison that are on our side. They are ready to help ya' escape. Are ya' willing to do this?” “I...I never thought I would see Sanyu.” He took a small drink from the wine bottle, “Tell me what I need to do.” Sharon filled Perry in on the details. A guard by the name of Manuel would meet him in the next few days. They would leave, along with a few other prisoners who were helping the cause. “It is like you guys are planning a revolution,” he said to Sharon. “Let's hope it don't come to that,” she replied. They made love once more and Sharon fell asleep with her head on Perry's chest. He listened to her breath. She was the first woman to actually sleep in his arms since his wife passed away. He would not tell her that. Eventually he slept as well. She left the next morning. The guard, Manuel, found him two mornings later. “It's time to go brother. Follow me and don't act suspicious.” Perry followed him without a word. The sun was shining and there were a lot of people wandering the grounds, but none of them

paid much attention to the two. They nodded to those they knew and said hello on the few occasions they passed close enough to others for manners to require it. They met with two more prisoners along the way and when they neared the gate a second guard fell in beside them, Perry started shaking but he was able to calm himself with deep breaths like his doctor had showed him. The guards put restraining cuffs on them when they stopped at the gate. The second guard produced documentation, the man working the gate looked it over before tagging it. They scanned the prisoners retinas to verify their identities then let them pass. Once through the primary gate they were loaded into a small transport van. Perry's heart raced as the van's electric motor came to life. The three prisoners sat in lightly cushioned seats in the back of the van. Four seats on each side faced each other. Perry was on the passenger side with the other two men opposite him. The air in the van was stale with body odor and a weak hint of a cleaning spray that failed to cover the smell. There were rings on the arm rest that were bolted into the side walls where restraints could be fashioned but they were not attached to them. There were no windows to see out of so they only knew when they speed up, slowed down or turned. The van

stopped once more at what Perry figured was the exterior gate before accelerating towards their freedom. None of the men spoke. Perry did not know how much they knew and saw no reason to make new friends considering the circumstances. They must have felt the same way. After what seemed like several hours the transport slowed, they made several more turns over a fifteen minute period and then stopped. The back door opened a few minutes later and the guard Manuel, now in casual civilian clothing, climbed inside. “Well boys you are almost there, we just have to get the trackers out of your backs and you will be free as a birds.” “And what about you,” Perry asked. “Once they realize we have escaped you will be just as much a fugitive as we are.” “Ha'ha,” he laughed. “We are fighting the good fight gentlemen. Mayhaps someday we will even go down in the history archives as heroes. Don't matter much though, I'd rather be a fugitive than a Commie.” Manuel removed their handcuffs and they stepped out into an oversized garage. Two women with surgeons mask covering their faces stood in front of a steel operating table. The place did not look

very sanitary so Perry figured the mask were more to hide their identities than to prevent infection. “Alright boys,” said Manuel “who wants to go first?” Perry went second. The procedure took about thirty minutes per person. It was not dangerous, as long as the doctor knew what she was doing. The tracking devices were small cylinders implanted near the lumbar region. A small wire was attached to the spinal cord to deter amateurs from attempting to remove them. These doctors were good enough to get the job done. They all had their implants removed and no one ended up paralyzed. Their backs were a little sore but that was expected. Perry changed into the street clothes that were waiting for him after surgery. The other two prisoners and the guard whose names he never cared to learn left in a black Ford coup several minutes before he and Manuel left in a nearly identical vehicle. They pulled onto the highway and Perry heard an explosion behind them. He looked back in the direction they came from and saw flames dancing on the flat Illinois horizon. The signs on the road said they were headed west on I-70. He admired The Arch as they crossed the Mississippi River into Saint Louis.

They drove in silence until they passed the airport. “Almost there,” Manuel said taking the next exit, he made two lefts and a right before pulling onto the lot of a shabby looking motel. He handed Perry an RF key with the numbers 207 stamped into the side. “That's your room. Good luck.” “Thanks Manuel, I owe you one,” Perry extended his hand too the guard. Manuel shook it firmly, “You don't owe me anything brother, you're part of the good fight now.” Perry stepped out of the car and onto the asphalt as a free man for the first time in a quarter of a century. He did not look back as the black car hummed away. He noticed this side of the building had all even numbered rooms, one hundreds on the first floor and two hundreds on the second, so he followed the sidewalk around to the other side. As he turned the corner he noticed a big red machine with a sign reading Coca-Cola and his mouth watered. At that moment he realized he did not have a credit to his name. For that matter he had no identification or even a change of clothes. He made his way up the stairs and found room 207. He waved his RF key in front of the sensor

and herd the lock click. He pushed the door and it opened a few inches before hitting the security latch. A woman called out, “Hello? Perry?” “Sharon? Is that you.” “It's me hun. Are ya' alone?” “Yes” She opened the door and pulled him into a tight embrace. “I was worried sick that something would go wrong.” “It was easier than I expected it to be,” he replied stroking her black hair. He noticed her pants and jacket. “You look different.” “Ya' don't recognize me with clothes on,” she asked with a sly smile. “Maybe that is it,” he chuckled. “None of this feels real, you know. Its like I am in a dream. The Institute has been my life for so long, the smells of this city, the sounds of planes flying over, and traffic from the highway. It is like I have been transported back in time.” Sharon raised up and kissed him lightly on the lips, “The human mind is an incredible machine. Yah'll adjust quickly, I guarantee it.”

“I don't have credits or identification, or even extra clothes.” “We thought of that,” Sharon turned and walked to a closet in the back of the room. Even in baggy street cloths her shapely figure was enjoyable. Perry followed her. Once inside she pick up a medium sized duffel bag and handed it to him. “This has three changes of clothes, a jacket and a pair of boots inside.” She undid the clips on the side pocket and took out a wallet, “In here ya' will find three debit cards, each one contains one thousand credits. Yar pin number is zero, nine, one, six. Ya' should have no trouble remembering that date.” He shook his head in agreement. “Yar new name is Perry Freeman, and we need a picture for yar identification.” She pointed her pocket assistant at him and took a few steps back, “Smile.” He did. “One more for yar passport.” He did not smile for that one. She started typing something into the small unit, “I've just got to encode this and...they've been sent. Sanyu will have yar ID's tomorrow. “So I will not get to see her tonight?” “Not yet hun. We will lay low till sunrise then we will go meet her. Follow me and I will show ya how to use the important things,” she led him to the king size bed which took up half the room. She

jumped on it and sat cross legged. He sat on the corner half facing her. “Give me yar bag.” She opened the side pocket and pulled out a strange looking handgun and two flat objects. “This is a rail gun, it holds ten projectiles and on its normal setting its battery has enough power to launch all ten. These two objects here are its reloads, the smooth side is the battery, the slotted side is yar projectiles. The slotted side always faces left when loading,” she demonstrated. “Each shot has enough power to penetrate a human with no body armor. If ya' hit this switch on the side it doubles yar power, this will penetrate riot helmets and body armor but it drains yar battery faster, so ya' will only be able to get off four to five shots max. This lever on the side is yar on/off switch, it acts as a safety. Ya' have to depress this button on the handle and this lever to turn yar safety off. Ya' only have to hit the lever to turn it back on.” She reached back into the bag and pulled out two spheres about the size of lemons. “We call these babies sticky buns. Push this button on top and a switch pops out of the side, flick the switch and throw, three seconds latter anyone in a ten feet radius will be covered in quick-goo and unable to move, ten to fifteen feet will likely be affected near the same way, fifteen to

twenty-five feet will get ya, a bit sticky but ya'll still be able to move. All this stuff is highly illegal under federal and international law, so if ya get caught with it yar cute ass is getting locked back up regardless of what yar' I.D. says yar name is. Any questions?” “How come you can pronounce goo without a problem but you cant say you?” Sharon punched him in the arm, “I'll shove this sticky bun up yoar ass if yoa're not careful hun.” “Ya' were close that time hun, ya're getting better,” Perry mocked her with a chuckle which earned him a shove. Perry took the sticky buns out of Sharon's hands and put them back in the bag, which he carefully set on the floor. “So Sargent Sharon, how long before our next mission?” “Not 'til sunrise Soldier,” she said, and began sucking on her bottom lip. Perry crawled towards her and uncrossed her legs. He slid his hands around her butt and pulled her in close enough to feel his desire. He whispered in her ear letting his lips brush against her lobe, “I think we better go undercover for the rest of the night, we don't want to be discovered.”

“Ya're right Soldier,” she replied forcing his shirt over his head, “but I give the orders around here.” She pushed him with enough force that he fell backwards. She climbed on top of him pulling her own shirt off. His desire met hers several times. They took a short break for dinner then started back where they had left off. They both slept straight though the night. The alarm woke them at five thirty AM. After a breakfast of protein bars and motel room coffee they showered and dressed without delay. “Are we going to meet Sanyu,” Perry asked. “Yah, she will have yar IDs by now,” Sharon said, with a frown. “We will be splitting up after we meet her, wont we” he asked, though he already could guess the answer. “It isn't safe for any of us. Ya' will have to go into deep hiding. Half this god forsaken planet will be looking for ya' by this time tomorrow. I'll be hiding as well, but I have work to do here.” “You know you can come with us.” “No Soldier, it is better this way,” she said as she kissed him on the cheek. “Chin up now, it's time to earn those credits I gave ya'. I

figure ya still owe the cause about two thousand nine hundred, you worked off about one hundred of them last night.” she winked and slapped his behind hard. Perry laughed wholeheartedly, “Yes ma'am Sargent Sharon ma'am.” They loaded up the back seat of Sharon's white four door with their bags. They drove west over the Missouri River. The trip to took nearly two hours and they exchanged pleasantries along the way. They exited on Highway Fifty Four in Kingdom City and went south a short distance. They circled a few random blocks to make sure they were not being followed before turning into another motel. She pulled into the parking space in front of room 450. Sharon tapped the horn fast one time and the car let out a squeak. A few moments later the curtains moved and a small dark hand slid into sight giving a thumbs up. A few seconds later it was gone. “This is it Soldier,” Sharon said, “good luck to you.” Perry leaned over to give her a kiss but she thrust her hand out in a gesture of friendship, he took it as if to shake it then pulled it to his lips and kissed it softly. “You be careful Sharon Lovejoy,” he said

with a wink and a smile. He got out of the car and retrieved his bag from the back seat. She was backing up as soon as he closed the door. He watched her leave the lot then proceeded to the room. He knew she was his daughter as soon as she opened the door. She backed up and he walked in and closed the door before speaking. “Sanyu,” tears welled in his eyes, “my god you are as beautiful as your mother. You look just like her.” “That's what maw'maw used to tell me.” Sanyu burst into tears, she brought he hands to her quivering lips. “I'm sorry,” she said as she turned and rushed to the bathroom. Perry sat down on the edge of the first twin bed and set his bag behind him. His hands were shaking, he clasped them together to stop them. Tears streamed down his face and he did not fight them. He placed his face in his palms and rested his elbows on his knees. He did not know Sanyu was back in the room until he felt the bed sink as she sat next to him. She put her arm around his back and rested her head on his shoulder. “Hi dad,” she said. “Hell of a way to meet isn't it.” She laughed and it sounded like her mothers laughter.

This time he fought back the tears, for her sake. He wiped his face, “Sanyu, this is not the way I dreamed of us meeting.” He took her free hand and held it tight. “So I hear you are the leader of a revolution. Anything else new?” They both laughed this time. “I wouldn't call myself a leader,” she said. “I think of myself as more of a whistle blower. And for the record,” she sounded like her mother as well, “I hope to prevent a revolution.” “Do you have enough evidence to expose Kreios?” She smiled, “I have enough evidence to bring Kreios to their knees along with nearly every politician and businessman they have in their pockets.” She stood and faced her father. “Once this gets out and we have brought them down we should be able to clear your-” The hum of the door lock cut Sanyu short. She darted for her purse on the nightstand as Perry sprung to his feet. The door flew open and three large men in black military fatigues rushed into the room. Perry moved between them and Sanyu and one of them swung something at his head, sharp pain shot through his skull and he fell to the floor. Men stepped over him and he looked back and saw the front

man punch his daughter in the face as he snatched a gun from her hands. No, not like this, he had just gotten his daughter back. He was not going to looser her again. Rage fueled adrenalin rushed though his veins. He launched to his feet and snatched a lamp from the desk. He dived over the bed and smashed the heavy brass fixture into the head of the man who had punched his baby. Their was a sick crunch and the man collapsed to the floor. Sanyu squealed a warning, “Behind you!” But it was too late. Cold metal pressed against his neck, a sharp burning pain instantly followed. He fell backwards and the room faded to blackness. Light. A woman crying. He tried to open his eyes but could not. Voices, “Tell us!” Pain. He forced his eyes open. The light burned. He could feel his heart beating and his head throbbed to the same rhythm. He heard a woman sobbing, angry men were threatening her. He saw his wife being held by two men, a third man lay by their feet. No, it was not his wife. His memory came back to him. His daughter came back to him. He tried to stand but he could not find his arms. He realized his wrist were tied behind his back. He was laying sideways on the bed in the hotel room. One of the men

held a knife to Sanyu's throat while the other man penned her to the wall. Perry wanted to kill them both. “If you tell us where the information is we will let your father live. If you don't his death will be slow and painful,” said the man with the knife. Sanyu gritted her teeth and replied, “You can all burn in hell.” Not again. He was not going to loose his daughter the same way he lost his wife. He puled his wrist as hard as he could, the ropes dug into his flesh and he could feel blood dripping down his hands. He wanted to shout, to distract the men, but he knew surprise was the only advantage he would have. He tried the ropes again and this time they were slick with his blood. He managed to get one of the turns loose, after that the rest were easy. Sanyu noticed her father was free. She started struggling to distract her assailants. She wanted to keep them facing her. Perry tried to rise but the effects of whatever they shot him with were still in his system. If he had not been filled with adrenaline when they shot him he would still be unconscious. Their mistake. He looked over and saw his duffel bag laying beside him. He undid the straps, reached inside and pulled out the rail gun. He pushed the

button and flicked the switch releasing the safety. He tried to aim at the man with the knife but he was so dizzy. He could not risk hitting Sanyu. He would not let his daughter die. He felt twenty five years of rage. He forced himself to his feet. The man with the knife saw movement in his peripheral vision. He spun but he was to late. Perry pulled the trigger and blood flew from the back of the attackers head onto the white wall. As the dead man was falling to the floor Perry swung the gun towards the other man but he was not fast enough. One strong hand wrapped around Perry's wrist as the other one smashed into his nose with a loud crunch, another punch drove him to the ground. Everything faded out of focus for a few seconds but Perry refused to let go of the gun. Sanyu launched herself onto the back of the man who was pummeling her father. She was fierce, but she was weak from torture and she was small. With his one free hand the attacker was able to hit her twice in the head. He grabbed hold of her black hair and flung her across the room. She bounced once across the mattress then landed half unconscious onto the floor between the two beds.

The thug returned his attention to Perry, who was now kneeling on the ground, struggling to hold onto his gun with both hands. The attacker moved behind Perry and pulled at the gun with both of is hands. He tried to force the gun to Perry's head. He would make him blow his own brains out, that was sort of the plan all along anyway. Perry felt the large man on his back. It took all his strength to keep the gun away from his own head. He could see his daughter laying on the floor, her half open eyes looking towards him. He knew if he lost this fight she would die. He kept pushing but his strength was failing. He noticed the power setting on the side and flicked the switch to double power with his thumb. Then he quit pushing. He pulled the weapon back towards himself. It was so fast it pulled right past his head and into his chest. He knew his attacker was right behind him. He fired the gun once, twice, three times, four times, he kept squeezing but nothing more came out. He felt fire in his chest. The hands that had been battling him loosened. He felt the attacker slide off of his back and heard him hit the ground with a wet thud. Perry tried to stand. He fell to the floor. He felt soft hands roll him over and and he looked up into the eyes of an angel.

“Don't leave me father,” tears rolled down Sanyu's face, dripping onto Perry's cheek, “please don't leave me.” He reached up and wiped her tears, “Shh, it's okay Sanyu, it's okay.” “It's all my fault, if I hadn't broke you out of prison you would-” he covered her mouth. “I would still be a prisoner, I would still be a murder. Thanks to you baby I am free.” He coughed twice and blood dripped down the side of his face. “Promise me one thing.” “Anything,” she sobbed. “You make sure you are safe. And don't let them stop you from getting the truth out.” He laughed, “I guess that is two things, huh.” “Yeah,” she smiled, “but I will do them both. You are going to be with mom now, you are going back to your wife.” “I am going back to my wife,” he said in his last whisper. As the world faded he kept repeating those words like a mantra, like that favorite song that you sing over and over, because you never want it to end.