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“Now, we know that’s not true. Spencer and Maxine Judge are definitely helping you.” His face blanched, and he shook his head. “That’s right. We know everything. We know that you wanted to kill us. You wanted all of us dead, and you were using Judge’s daughters. Tell me, does he know that you were the one that killed her?”
“I didn’t kill her! She was weak! They’re all weak!”
“She was a child,” snarled Trak. He started to walk around the desk, and Morrison stood, pushing the chair with his foot. It hit Trak in the shins, and they all watched as he ran from the office.
“Well, let’s go. We haven’t been keeping up the runs for nothing,” smirked Miller.
Morrison ran down the halls, pushing and shoving others out of the way.
“They’re trying to kill me! Call security! Call security!”
Nine held up his hands, as did the others.
“We were only trying to deliver his new chairs. I think there’s something wrong with him,” he said, nodding at the man as he opened a door and disappeared. “Where does that go?”
“To the roof,” said a woman.
“Get security up there now,” said Wilson, pushing through the crowd. Trak and Miller were hot on his heels as Nine tried to explain to security what was happening.
On the rooftop, there was a fine layer of ice and snow, the wind whipping off the Potomac. Morrison looked for a second exit, but the one he took up was the only one that would get him down.
Wilson came through the door, staring at the wide-eyed man.
“Come back down, Morrison. You’ve got everyone worried for you.” There were several other people pushing their way through the door. Colleagues, lawyers, and other judges.
“Seth, please,” said one woman. “What are you doing? Come back down out of the cold.”
“No! No, they’re trying to kill me.”
“Seth, you’re being ridiculous,” said another judge. “These men have no weapons. They’re standing far from you. They have no intentions of harming you. Come back downstairs, Seth.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, he turned, kneeling on the ledge of the building, then standing.
“I’ll jump. I swear to you, I’ll jump!”
“Morrison, you’re being paranoid,” said Nine. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just need you to talk to everyone. Tell them what’s really happening.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. You’re trying to trick me. You want me to tell them why I want the weapons. He knows. He’s part of the whole thing. He put you up to this, didn’t he? No. I will not tell you anything!”
There were low rumbles and people whispering, shaking their heads. He saw the Native moving slowly to his right and the big man with the beard moving to his left.
“I won’t go to jail,” he whispered. “I won’t.”
He tried to take a step to his left but lost his footing. Before Trak or Miller could get there, he was careening backwards, towards the earth below. His body hit a parked car, the sounds of broken glass, bent metal, and shattered bones echoing through the cold.
“Fuck,” muttered Nine. “He really was insane.”
It was eight hours later, nearly midnight, when Kari walked back into the interrogation room with Katrina and Georgie. They expected that. They’d been outside pleading their case to the Capitol Police and the FBI for hours. What they didn’t expect was the president walking into the room.
All four men stood, and he waved for them to sit back down. He slid the recording device back toward Nine.
“Thank you for recording that,” he said, nodding. “It proves that he was insane and was hoping to take over everything. America will just know you as the hero furniture delivery guys.”
“Thank you,” said Miller suspiciously.
“I’m curious, though, did he at any time name anyone else that he was working with? I heard him mention the name Judge. I assume that’s Spencer Judge.” Nine nodded at him. “No one else?”
“No. He mentioned no one else,” said Wilson.
