by Ray Daley
*
I'm not woken by the alarm. That singular honour falls to The Captain. "Major, it's time. We have your weapon. It's time to come with us sir."
I'm dressed and leaving with him and the thirty other very heavily armed men he brought with him as his insurance policy in less than three minutes.
"Do you have my rounds Yuri?" I ask him.
"Yes Major, hollow point as requested. Are you excited to be meeting him sir?" Captain Yuri Zukhov has not been in the Peoples Army long. If he had, he'd know not to ask questions like that. Especially not to someone like me.
I looked over at him."It's just another job Yuri. Pass me my weapon, I need to do my final checks before we reach the studio."
I spend the rest of the journey going over the weapon to ensure it'll do its job as well as it can. As well as I can. We are in harmony. I think The Leader would appreciate that sentiment.
I'm wired and ready by the time we reach the studio. We're waved through when they see the flag on the bonnet of our vehicle. You don't stop that flag, not ever. Not if you want to keep living afterwards.
Yuri sends me off to the briefing with a smart salute that I don't return. Not because I don't respect him, his rank or the uniform he wears. But because I'm too far into the zone at this point. The stimulants are coursing through my veins at this point.
I'm talked through the details by a minor functionary, he's not even in uniform. No doubt one of the station employees, someone outside the military chain of command. My role is simple, I will be introduced, I will come on, I will execute my duty. I am given an earpiece so they can prompt me through it if the need arises.
I spend the final moments before airtime checking the weapon is loaded. I have the extended magazine, no-one here has ever seen one before. It's an antique, as is the weapon itself. It was popular, back when we were still a country, not a global movement. Back when our flag was still red. I am a student of history.
If we do not remember the past, we are forced to repeat it.
Around me I am vaguely aware of the countdown, they're on air now. I can hear the presenter talking to the people at home, but it's all just a haze to me. The stimulants are doing their job. Soon I will do mine.
I hear the presenter introducing the attendees. No. This isn't right.
This isn't the list we saw last night. Then I hear my cue and my legs walk me out to the pre-marked spot the young man in the badly fitting suit had shown me earlier during the briefing.
My brain is in no way involved. I'm walking out there on automatic pilot, like some kind of robot. I'm aware that the presenter made a huge mistake and has just said my name on air, so despite my disguise they can easily find out who I really am.
If they dare.
I show the weapon to the camera, to the audience at home. They can't see my face, this is deliberate on the part of the show. I am meant to be the faceless entity that brings an end to their revelry.
And that's the kill-switch. Or at least it's supposed to be.
Then I'm back in control. The anti-toxin flows through my body, I am in full control again. No longer a mindless puppet being ordered around by a voice in my ear. It's then that I see what he's done.
It's the children again.
"This is The Bear. Kill them, now." I know I am not supposed to disobey that voice, but I must.
I'm not supposed to speak either, but I do. "No. I won't." I turn my head and I can see him, the sudden look of fear in his eyes. The Leader.
"You couldn't leave it alone, could you? You had to turn the knife just one last time. This is too much. These kids are innocents, they've done nothing, hurt no-one." I say.
"But they might. They will. You know how this world works, better than anyone. They will. Because they can. You know they can. Do your job Major. Kill them. That's an order."
This may well be the very first time anyone has ever disobeyed this man in his entire life. "No." I say, then I remember exactly who I'm talking to. "Sir."
I raise the weapon and cock it, flicking the safety catch off. It's now ready to fire. And pointed right at The Leader. Right at his head.
"Our revels now are ended. We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our little life is rounded with a sleep." I pull off the mask, I want everyone to know who did this. Who ended this. Who freed us all.
I hear the crack of the gunshot but as I feel the pain and heat, I'm aware it's not me that fired.
In my ear as the blackness surrounds me, I can still hear them screaming at me. "Ivan, Ivan! What are you doing? Ivan!"
The rest is silence.
THE END.
Authors Notes:- This story came about because I misheard Matt Smith (playing Doctor Who) saying a line where I thought he'd said tomorrow there will be a bear. I quite enjoyed writing this story and I won't apologise for quoting Shakespeare. This was subbed to Fireside Magazine, 2nd June 2014; rejected 3rd July 2014.
