Bulletproof

"When you have money, the world becomes your jukebox. You choose the names on the billboards. The prices at the market. Whom the anger is directed at on the news. The items on the menu." Charlotte bragged from the top of a skyscraper restaurant, drinking champagne while admiring the skyline, the pyramids of Giza in the late afternoon light, and her friend across the table.

"Is that what your boss told you?" he said, reminding her that she, too, was part of the jukebox.

She smiled her cynical astonishing smile.

They were celebrating their new deal. The Egyptian government bought a large number of autonomous highly intelligent surveillance drones and spread them across the nation's territory. Both Charlotte Bianchi—Lotte to her friends—and Xavier Gazzo were responsible for closing the deal.

"The world feels very safe from up here," Xavier said, more sober than she expected. "But… it's not. You know it's not. I think we should worry about our safety. There's a war down there on the streets. People want a regime change here in Egypt."

"You're worried about me! That's flattering. You never worry about anything. What happened to: It's better to live with one courageous partner than with an army of fools? You said I was your new religion. That you prayed every day so that I’d give you a chance. This is me giving you a chance. Don't worry."

He gazed at her, then deflected, looking toward the horizon. "It's been a thrill meeting you every day."

Is he about to propose or about to leave? She wondered. "But?" she demanded elaboration.

"I care about you. Is that too much for you?"

"Kiss me."

#

Hours and hours working together at peak performance in sales, desiring each other. Camaraderie, jokes. They were relentless together. Ruthless, ambitious, their wit matching in every phrase. Finally, they let their bodies speak; the chemistry between them exceeded expectations. Their eyes wanted more, and so did their lips. Nothing seemed to stop them from falling deeper and deeper in love. Even the stupidest person in a room could see they were destined to be together.

Later that night, she finally brought up her concerns. "Why did you ask me if caring is too much for me?" She never missed a thing.

“It's better to live with one courageous partner than with an army of cowards. Cowards, not fools, as you said earlier. The people wanting regime change are not fools."

"Oh, please… Spare me."

"I'm with them."

"You didn't ruin the deal. Did you?"

"I'm on their side of the war. Go somewhere safe, Charlotte. A storm is coming."

"I'm a whale in the storm. I don't give a fuck."

"I thought a kiss could change your mind," he said.

They kissed again.

"I never thought I'd have to change yours." Tears rolled down her serious face.

"Tomorrow at noon. I want to see you again." They both had a lot to think about. He wasn't sure about his decision.

"Leave." Her voice was cold as moonlight.

#

They met at the city's plaza. It was noon, but a cloudy winter noon. She hoped her love story wouldn't stay in Cairo like so many treasures kept in the museums.

"I know you're mad at me."

“The only reason I won't slap you is because touching you would make me want more of your kisses.”

"Lott…"

"Shhh. I won't ask you why. I don't want to know why. Stand down. Give up on this dead, losing cause. And maybe… just maybe… I'll give you another chance."

"I've always been with them."

She slapped him. "You had the world! We had the world! You had me! You know that, right?!"

"Find a safe place, Lotte. I'll find you."

"I'll release all the dogs on you. I hope you die a horrible death."

He walked away.

"Fuck you, fool! Fuck you, coward!” She shouted with the fury of a thousand suns.

#

The morning after, Cairo woke to find itself covered in threads strung between buildings as if giant spiders had sewn the city together. The revolutionaries had hoped the webs would protect them from the drones. It didn't. An intelligent drone sliced through the threads with lasers, each beam precise as a scalpel.

Armed civilians fired at the machine from rooftops and broken windows. The drone answered with shots that pierced walls, pulverized concrete, and annihilated flesh. That was only one of the new models. Two hundred more appeared in the sky, blotting out the pale winter sun. The other three hundred had been sabotaged by Xavier.

Revolutionaries had to overthrow the government in a single day. Anything longer, and the growing army of drones would become unstoppable. But the government knew their plan. Police were instructed to pacify the population as fast as possible by any means necessary.

Security forces raided buildings, kicking down doors, searching for members of the resistance. Chaos erupted: cars burned on the boulevards, black smoke curled into the gray sky, smoke bombs choked the streets.

The city lived hours of fire, blood, desperation, flying bots, and gunpowder turning every spirit to dust.

Xavier's plan to reach the presidential palace failed. Only one car made it to the gates, crashing into the fortress entrance. There was no other option now. They had to flee the country. The revolution had failed.

Charlotte headed to a private helicopter to escape Cairo.

Xavier appeared through the lifted mist of sand — exhausted and bruised.

She shot him three times. Then she flew away.

#

Meaningless sex. Pills everywhere. Money. Gratuitous rudeness. Then, in the middle of the night: magnolias on the table in her living room. And a note.

This time I will be bulletproof.

"Where is he?" She rushed to the window. No one outside. "What does he want? Me? Revenge?" She was happy he was alive, but holding the note was too much. She sank to the floor and wept like a child.

The following week she thought she saw him everywhere. She softened. The rudeness fell away. But the pills—she doubled the dose.

Late at night he appeared at the foot of her bed. She woke, dead certain it was her imagination. "Oh, please. I think I took too many."

"No. It's me."

She wasn't sure yet that he wasn't a hallucination. "What do you want?" She pulled the sheet over herself.

"I want you out of town."

"Spare me your tricks. You want more information about the drones."

"No. I'm the one giving you information. There will be a new wave of violence here on Libya. Protect yourself." He began to leave.

She covered her eyes. She wouldn't cry in front of him. "Please don't leave. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Goodbye, Charlotte."

"Wait. Please wait. Give me a minute. I can give you a way out. Don't do this to me again. Don't leave.”

"By boat. This time we must leave by boat."

This time the revolution had succeeded, and so had they.

They fled across the water at dawn.