Agent BOATZ centered his rifle’s sight over the forehead of President Spears’ – President Roberts’ – forehead. BOATZ blinked, shaking off what could only be the strongest sensation of déjà vu any person had ever known. He had the distinct feeling he had done this all before. For an instant ten years of his life flashed before his eyes: events which would never happen, faces he would never know, and a life he would never lead flickered across his mind. A vision, clear as crystal, of himself sending a bullet through the skull of President Britney Spears, some ten to fifteen years in the future, cemented itself deep in the recesses of his mind for but an instant, before fading away into the fog of uncertainty. Britney Spears as an American president? Prophetic visions of the future? Ridiculous. BOATZ hadn’t allowed any hallucinogenic drugs of any kind into his body in well over a decade, so he promptly wrote off his vision to pre-assassination jitters and got back to work.

It isn’t every day a man betrays his country, but BOATZ had as good a reason as any. He had no choice. His brothers, his wife, his daughter, and a million other people who made a million other stupid decisions had corralled BOATZ into this singular event. He was here, so he might as well do as he was told. The world was damned any way he looked at it, so he might as well come out on the winning, or at least slightly less defeated, side.

Julia Roberts stepped up to her presidential podium, situated before the press outside of her 51-acre retreat near Taos, New Mexico. Four hundred yards away, BOATZ was laying quietly beneath one of many fully-needled piñons which belonged to a Christmas tree farm that rested comfortably atop a rocky hill. BOATZ rolled slightly to his side, repositioning to escape a rock which was eagerly digging into his gut. He watched Julia, looking not unlike a modern day Hypatia, place her left hand over her left ear, no doubt receiving a message from James. Kill the puppet and the puppeteer is left powerless.

President Roberts began to speak. Though he could not hear her words, BOATZ knew everything which came from her mouth, not only because he was actively reading her lips, but also because he had already memorized today’s speech several weeks prior.

“Citizens of the world,” the president began, “you have been kept in the dark for too long.” BOATZ sighed. If only she knew, if only she had the slightest idea what she was speaking of. Regardless, BOATZ had his orders, and the moment he was waiting for would soon arrive.

~~~

Agents RANKZ smiled as various members of the press gasped with each new revelation. He had forgotten what it was like to live with clouded vision. To his right, the president continued, “but the real threat, the real danger, was never within our own borders. For the last fifteen-hundred years, a single nation has conspired against the well-being of all mankind, acting in shadow, too timid to reveal their true intentions. For the last fifteen-hundred years the nation of –”

There was no sound, only light and color. Ahead, atop a hill, from below the rows of trees, came a muzzle flash. RANKZ had seen it. No, he hadn’t, but it had been there, he knew it. Beside him, the president’s head jerked violently backwards, her skull exploding on international television. Bits and pieces of bone and gray matter clung to RANKZ’s coat, but it did not matter. He had to act.

Members of the press scattered in all directions; others stayed as flash bulbs flashed and cameras kept rolling. Secret service agents swarmed the corpse, barking orders to one another through their ear pieces. Several hundred miles away, deep under the state of Kansas, a man whose real name was not James scrambled as he head foot falls above his head.

RANKZ took off running towards the nearby patch of Christmas trees, dodging press and hopping fences as he did so. Several other agents quickly joined him, unsure of what he was doing, but still feeling the need to do something.

The shot had come from several hundred yards off, atop the hill in the center of the tree farm. The terrain was rocky and lined with endless rows of deep green pine trees, but RANKZ would be able to cover it in moments. It only took him two seconds to double the gap between him and the other pursuing agents. In another twenty seconds, RANKZ had already covered the distance and, finding traces of flight away from the position, began to follow the assassin’s trail.

Ahead, just beyond the trees, RANKZ heard what sounded like a helicopter and, drawing his gun, burst onto the seen, weapon raised.

~~~

Agent BOATZ whipped back around to see Agent RANKZ pointing his firearm in his direction. BOATZ had already tossed his rifle into helicopter, leaving him completely defenseless.

“BOATZ?” asked RANKZ.

Christ, he didn’t have time for this. “The real president’s on board,” BOATZ said, motioning towards the helicopter. “It’s not safe here, we need to get going.”

RANKZ glanced up towards the vehicle’s pilot, a shaggy-looking bearded man who was frozen in place, his hands above his head and off the controls. The helicopter’s blades still whirled above their heads. “That’s a lie, BOATZ. Get on the ground.”

“I can’t, RANKZ. I need to get to London.”

“Get down on the ground!” RANKZ took a step forward, cocking his pistol. “You’re not going anywhere, traitor.”

Smiling, BOATZ said, “two nukes. One here. One in D.C. Can you escape in time?” He took a step towards the copter.

“Stop!” RANKZ yelled. “One more step and I will not hesitate to kill you, BOATZ. You killed the fucking president!”

“I did a lot more than that.”

BOATZ leaped into the open doorway of the helicopter, taking two bullets to the right leg for his efforts. The copter’s pilot took three more. Sliding in behind the pilot’s corpse, BOATZ reached his arms around the man’s body and took the helicopter into the air, jumping in his seat each time as two more bullets clanged against the machine. He didn’t bother looking at his watch, he knew he had little time to escape the blast radius. Yet he still knew he would escape. At least he felt consolidated in knowing RANKZ would not be so lucky.