Chemical Reaction

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” said Martin as he checked the wiring harness for the third time. He looked up from the small device in time to catch a glimmer of fear in Melissa’s eyes. “You don’t have to come. I can handle it,” he said as they both sat cross legged on the empty apartment floor.

“No, no. In for a penny… right?” Melissa tried to pull a genuine smile across her frayed nerves. “Besides, it’s safer if there’s a driver and a lookout. I’m just thinking about all the collateral damage. I mean we have no idea how sideways this could tip,” she said before chewing her lip. Her knit sweater had holes worried through both cuffs.

“You’re right. There are plenty of unknown variables. But we put years of planning into this. It’s worth it. The world is going to shit. We are governed by self-serving liars, and they are controlled by corporate CEOs and banking executives. Every year, the income gap widens, and the dream of retirement gets farther away for the masses.” Martin shakes his head as he clenches his fist. “These assholes only feed us the crumbs of their leftovers, while lying about how bright our futures will be. The game is rigged, Melissa. You know it more than most.” He was breathing harder as the heat rose in his cheeks. The streetlight outside highlighted his unruly hair and the sharp lines of his clenched jaw.

“No, I know. I’m not doubting whether things need to change. I guess I just don’t want to see innocent people get hurt.” She looked down into her lap. She could feel his eyes boring into her.

“Look, I’m sorry, but it’s just too late. You know this. Even if we wanted to back out now, everyone else is going through with it. We’ve been in complete radio silence for 3 days now, and that’s not just with New York and San Fran. That’s Moscow, Beijing, Tokyo, London, Paris…all fifteen of the other cells. This is happening,” Martin said, flailing his hands up in exasperation. He drew in a deep sigh. “You were the brains behind the initial concept. You helped develop the compound for gods’ sake. Why is this only coming out now?”

“I don’t know. I guess any misgivings I’ve had were only whispers until now. It’s just so…big. It’s all so real now.” She made eye contact from under her worried brows, and he softened a bit, relaxing his shoulders. Just then, an alarm on his phone chimed.

“It’s time. Get your boots on and drop your burner in the dumpster on our way out.” He stowed the small device into his shoulder bag, checking over its contents again. He turned to her with a questioning look. She only nodded. They left the drab little studio to the mice and the darkness.

The 30-minute ride in the stolen white minivan was tense and quiet, save for Melissa directing where to go from the paper map. They didn’t turn on the radio. They didn’t chit chat, or even go over the plan. They had been rehearsing this for what seemed like an eternity. Martin started scanning the houses and sidewalks as he kept the speedometer in check. He had purposefully chosen this time of evening for the lack of traffic, and to not be out conspicuously late. The Palisades on this side of MacArthur weren’t nearly as wealthy. The houses here were still way out of their price range, but the minivan shouldn’t stand out.

“This is it up here. Get the drone ready,” Martin whispered as if they were being monitored. He slowed the van and parked, turning off the lights. They had chosen this stretch of side road because it was surrounded by the tall fences of backyards with no dogs. A relative blind spot from the houses. Melissa had moved to the back seat and was slowly spinning the small quadcopter in place for GPS alignment. She fumbled about a moment longer while she readied the drone’s payload.

“All set,” she announced quietly. Martin pushed a button behind the rear-view mirror and the minivan’s side door slid open with what seemed to them a cacophony of sound at a snail’s pace. Melissa hopped out and carefully placed the drone on the sidewalk, before scampering quickly back into the minivan. As she crawled back over and into the passenger seat, she pushed the button to close the door. Martin was already piloting the drone. She leaned in close to watch. The small screen attached to the dual stick controller bathed them both in a soft blue light. As she looked on, the ground dropped away beneath the drone, the small payload obscuring half the screen and swaying gently.

Martin flew the little craft high enough to clear the tall trees and not be heard or highly visible. He could now follow the orange pools of streetlight between the little model houses filled with unassuming families. He briefly thought about how this would be the last normal family dinner they would have. Everything will change after tomorrow. Martin shook his head to dispel the distraction. His target destination was only a mile and a half away, further up the Potomac River.

Melissa stopped watching the screen, hearing a dog bark in the distance. She checked all the mirrors before sitting up to further survey their surroundings. Nothing, not a hint of activity. Too still. How could she trust it. She fidgeted around as she kept a vigilant eye on the neighborhood. Martin could feel her anxiety filling the air between them, like the sour humidity of an old sauna.

“Just relax. I’m almost there. After I pass over this next Cul de sac, there is only a small stand of trees before the reservoir,” said Martin in the soft tones of a parent cooing away their child’s nightmare.

“It’s infuriating how relaxed you are,” she said, shaking her head as she scanned the road behind them.

“Don’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. Suave and unflappable. Some might even say I’m as cool as a cuc…look!” Martin perked up in his seat suddenly, making melissa squeak as she jumped. “There it is. See those dark black rectangles up ahead? Those are the holding pools.”

Melissa looked briefly to confirm there were indeed some darker blobs on the screen in the approaching distance. She went back to scrutinizing the neighborhood. Martin rolled his shoulders and flexed them back in preparation. Soon, he was able to see the tall razor wired chain link fence surrounding the three pools. He kept his line of approach until he was centered over the largest pool of water. He did a final rotation with the drone to confirm he was directly over the pool.

“Okay. Whew,” he exhaled forcefully. “You’re sure it doesn’t matter which pool?” Asked Martin.

“Positive.”

“Okay. Here it goes…you ready?”

“Just fucking drop the thing so we can get out of here,” Melissa scolded. Martin raised an eyebrow at her but decided to just look back at the screen. He took his right hand off the controller to flex his fingers in and out of a fist. Then he made a flourishing loop with his extended index finger before methodically pushing the button to release the payload.

Nothing happened on screen.

“Shit,” whispered Martin as Melissa’s eyes bulged above her tightly pursed lips. He pounded the button with his thumb forgetting all about dramatics and showmanship. An excruciating two seconds later, the view on screen listed wildly before steadying out. The payload was gone. He started to adjust the camera with a slow pan downward. Melissa was slapping his shoulder now.

“I can’t see the splash yet…look down! Look down!” She was nearly in tears with anxiety.

“I’m trying damn it, hold on,” Martin said. Then slowly, the small ripples came into view, far below the little drone. Concentric rings spreading out from a tiny disruption, eventually encompassing the whole pool. They were both silent for a moment as they watched the glistening waves dance and sparkle in the reflected light.

“Okay, let’s get this little guy back,” said Martin. He clicked the home button, and the screen immediately showed the drone leaning into acceleration. Melissa began rocking back and forth as she patted her thighs rhythmically, looking up and down the empty side street. Soon enough, a faint hum grew steadily louder as the drone lowered itself onto the same square of cement it launched from. Melissa threw herself out of the passenger door and lunged forward to snatch up the drone. She spun and leapt back into the seat, tossing the drone in the back as she slammed her door closed.

“Careful with that,” whined Martin.

“It doesn’t matter…you can’t keep it. We have to destroy it, remember? Everything’s gotta be clean,” she said. She snapped her fingers at him and pointed to the road ahead of them.

“Fine. Ya, I’m going.” He started the van as he set down the controller. “But I’m keeping a propeller. They aren’t even serialized,” he said with mock sneer. Forty minutes later, they were pulling to a stop in a very different part of D.C. Martin got out with the bolt cutters to cut the chain off a run-down gate. There were very few streetlights that were still working near this abandoned facility. Melissa slid into the driver’s seat and drove through as Martin opened the stiff creaking gate. He closed it behind them and hopped in the passenger seat. Melissa drove around to the back of the building and they both got out. Martin fetched the gas can out of the hatchback and began dousing the interior. He tossed it, mostly empty now, into the front seat. He rifled through his bag before he found the matchbook. He struck one on the strip before using it to light the whole match book. His eyes lit up and he looked over at Melissa.

“I’ve always wanted to try this,” he said with glee. He tossed the wad of flames into the open window of the minivan and stepped back. It was nearly instantaneous. The tame little family vehicle was transformed into the incendiary maw of some molten demon. They watched for a moment as it crackled and sputtered.

“Shit, I forgot to grab one of the propellers,” complained Martin.

“Come on, let’s go,” said Melissa, turning away from the noxious smell. They started walking towards the nearest station. Every step away from the minivan eased her nerves. The night seemed almost surreal as she watched the unchecked excitement of it all turn Martin into a bouncing adolescent boy. He was almost skipping as they made their way through the intermittent darkness of the industrial park. He jabbered on about the incredible heat from the flaming family transport, and talked about how they had done such an amazing thing that no one would ever give them credit for. She hardly heard any of it. She mostly just watched her feet kicking along through the night, wondering how everything would unfold.

Martin stopped in front of the SmarTrip vending machine to insert a few bills for two metro cards. That’s when Melissa realized they had already made the twenty-minute walk to the station. Martin handed her a card, and they went through the turnstile to the terminal. There weren’t many people out tonight, but there were enough to keep Martin’s loud rambling in check. He looked like the cat that ate the canary now that they were around other people. They both waited for the train to arrive with hands in their jacket pockets. Martin bouncing on his heels as he looked up and down the terminal, and Melissa staring at her shoes and chewing her lower lip. Once it arrived and the train doors had hissed open, they seated themselves in a nearly empty car away from everyone.

“Okay, I know the timer is set to release the chemical at 4a.m., but how long did you say it will take to hit most all of D.C.?” Martin asked, leaning in to whisper.

“Two or three hours,” she replied quietly.

“And it takes days before all of the chemical will be washed out of the holding pools?” He said, repeating questions he’d already asked.

“It gets more diluted with every minute water is added to the settling pool, but yes. It should take three days to be diluted beyond efficacy. So, until we are out of the D.C. area, drink bottled water,” she said, drawing in a heavy breath.

“Right. So, what if only a few politicians drink the tap water over the next few days? Walk me through it again…I’m all amped up and can’t concentrate,” he said in a flurry of words. She raised her hands to steady him and quiet his mouth.

“It won’t matter. I was joking. Anyone who has ice in their drink, brews fresh coffee…anyone who takes a shower, or brushes their teeth, will be compromised. Most toilet flushes will be enough to aerosol the chemical into the air they breathe, so bathrooms are huge attack points. Pretty much anyone who visits a place served by the Washington Aqueduct will be compromised.”

“Ah man…so fucking cool! You really are a brilliant mastermind,” he said, meaning it to be a compliment.

“Can you just be fucking quiet for a minute.” She hadn’t anticipated the anger her words carried with them.

“Whoa…hey. What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing, okay,” she replied with too much force. They sat for a moment in silence. “Look, I just feel horrible about all these people that are going to die.”

“Wait, wait. What? We aren’t killing anybody. If anyone dies because of this, it is all on the asshats in power.” He leaned forward to look her in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“I mean, I guess I do. But we are the people literally dosing millions of people, not just politicians and executives, with this chemical. The people in power didn’t pilot that drone or spend months planning this attack.” Melissa’s eyes were welling up.

“I get that. But with all the dysfunctional families in big cities, don’t you think the world will be better off? I almost feel like, you know, we’re healing the world in a way. Ya, things are gonna be crazy for a while, but come on…Omelets and eggs, man. Omelets and eggs.” Martin shrugged his shoulders with palms raised.

“I just don’t see how can be so cavalier and guilt free about killing people,” she said quietly.

“We are not directly killing people,” he said emphatically.

“Whaat!?” She was at wits end.

“Look, I don’t know why I have to explain any of this to you. You made this ultimate truth serum, or whatever you wanna call it. Permanent, yes. Does it hurt anyone…no. It’s completely benign as far as physical health is concerned. Your words. If people get hurt, markets crash, rebellions start, or wars break out, that is all due to the past sins of their lying mouths being exposed to the light. We are changing the human condition…for the better damn it.” He sat back in his seat with a huff and crossed his arms.

Melissa massaged her temples and then looked over at Martin with a sigh. “I guess you’re right. What’s done is done. All that’s left is to get comfortable and start scrolling the news feeds tomorrow morning.”