Chapter 44: Barack X Jill

Barack spent an hour diligently attempting to move Homer to a safer location without injuring the poor person any further. The entire situation was too bewildering. Barack took comfort in knowing that the twelfth division was observing radio silence and couldn't be bothered by what was going on. The clues were as of yet still vague but they seemed to have a decent fix on Jerry Shankar's position. Every possible precaution against a stunt like the last one Jerry Shankar had pulled off had been accounted for. There would be a painstakingly slow, circling approach on Shankar's position and that would be the end of it.

Barack suspected that Homer's misguided act of noble psychosis had been inspired by some sort of hint as to what not to do. No hit school? Was that where Jerry Shankar was hiding out? Another location like Storm Lake, another ancient server farm? Well it didn't really matter what the exact location was. Barack had very patiently entertained Homer's demands that the Rainbow Shirts cease taking action for years. Now the pendulum had swung the other way, and it was time for hotter heads to prevail.

Barack was having all these temperamental thoughts at an odd time. After all, the night was cool, and Barack personally was in no real danger to speak of. Barack was doing the grunt work tonight- transmitting data to twelfth divsion from the Social Justice Army headquarters using one of Esther's old encrypted radio systems. Regular check-ins and check-ups with minimal risk. Hence why Barack could somewhat fearlessly dedicate so much time to tending after Homer, and still have plenty of time left over for the expected two hour check-in.

So it was that when Barack went upstairs to the luxury suite, or at least the closest thing to a suite this miserable motel had, danger was not expected. Having put Homer safely to rest downstairs, Barack leisurely, walked right into the room, and only just barely managed to evade sudden death right there because having been warned of heavy breathing.

"Who's there?" said Barack, triggering the time perception augment. Barack wasn't expecting an answer to that question, but rather a first strike. And a first strike was exactly what happened.

Though the lights were off Barack had turned on night vision before starting to speak. Barack successfully guessed the projectory of the bullets from what appeared to be the gun hand of the would-be assassin, dodging them by going down and into the lower left behind the door. With the promise of mild cover, Barack ventured to speak again.

"You sure you want to be shooting at me?" asked Barack. "Maybe we can work something out."

Barack flicked the augment back on just in time to realize that there was an ominous-looking timer nearby. Barack managed to evade the worst of the explosion, but still got blown to the other side of the hallway. Barack lowered the pain perception and started applying protective tape throughout his body. Emergency gear, not that he'd ever had reason to use it before.

This wasn't quite the right move. Apparently the part of the floor Barack had been blasted to had a very weak foundation. Barack fell to the floor underneath. Now Barack's legs were of limited utility. But Barack could still use hands. Barack propped himself up with them and tried to take a look around. Barack could see an antagonist on the floor above pulling something. In the slowed down time granted via augment, Barack deduced that it was mostly likely a grenade. It was only at this point that Barack realized that the sole practical option to avoid further attack was to keep moving as fast as possible.

Again, not quite the right move. Barack managed to hit a tripwire, and was racked by yet another explosion, not just blown horizontally across the hallway but also downwards to yet another floor. Second floor now. So the good news was that Barack could only fall down one more floor at once, and was probably just barely strong enough to survive the tumble. 

The bad news was that if the fight involved going any farther down than this, Homer could get hit in the crossfire. Barack concluded that the only way to proceed now was to go on the offensive. While in slowed down time Barack tried to locate another tripwire and succeeded, deciding for the moment to avoid trying to disarm the trap. Barack's unseen antagonist was now coming down the stairs themselves to try and grab a hold of Barack, who no doubt was harder to kill than this unknown assailant was expecting.

Barack decided not to move for as long as possible. Barack kept careful track of the assassin's position and waited for them to approach. In slow motion Barack could see them making a deliberate effort to avoid their own tripwire. At just the right moment, when this person was clearly distracted, that was when Barack made a move. Barack charged them and forced them both over the tripwire. They were both smashed by the explosion that time, although Barack had managed just enough momentum to crash them into another guest room of the motel. Barack was in no shape to fight anyone just then- but the assassin, with no augments as expected, wasn't looking much better after one big hit than Barack had looked after four.

"Who are you?" Barack barked, momentarily deactivating the augment. As expected, once more, no reply. The opponent had already taken out knives and was brandishing them with a snarling fury. Barack was only just barely fast enough to dodge thanks to the augment, while desperately looking around for some shrapnel or board that could be used as a crude shield in this situation.

For all of Barack's advantages of fighting in slow time it took awhile to place the face of the person being fought. It was Jill Smith. What was this person doing here? How did this person even get here? Hadn't Barack only just heard about this person attacking the Social Justice Army headquarters back on the East Coast?

After several minutes of desperate dodges and occasional failures riding up against Barack's wounds, Barack finally managed to stem the attack with a board thick enough that Jill couldn't break through it. Jill didn't lose a beat upon realizing both of the knives were lost. Jill just kept trying to attack Barack bare-handed. But even a relative novice like Barack could see that Jill wasn't using to fighting like this. Barack disengaged the time-slowing augment, mainly to try and hold some sort of conversation. But Barack soon realized that, far from being the silent antagonist assumed, Jill had been screaming nearly this entire time. It was just that with all the crumbling destructive noises around them, and also Barack having slowed down time perception, there was no way to hear what Jill was saying.

"Why are you doing this?!" Jill cried out, faced drenched in tears. "All you've done is bring suffering to others! Give her back! Give me back my sister!"

Barack slowed down time, less to dodge the attacks at this point and more to consider Jill's point of view. Was this the source of all Jill's enmity? The reason for fascist allegiance? Was this all just a petty attempt to get back at the Rainbow Shirts for some perceived slight against family?

As Barack narrowly dodged an attempted eye-gouging, Barack considered the possibility that Jill's sibling had been collateral damage somehow. That seemed unlikely. The Rainbow Shirts had never run operations in Iowa. Was the sibling from somewhere else? But even then the Rainbow Shirts were very careful about compensating and communicating with the families afflicted by their collateral damage. At least in the cases that were obviously primarily their fault. In more ambiguous situations, it didn't matter who was blaming them. In such cases where the Social Justice Army couldn't be definitively blamed, the only explanation that could be considered plausible was political discontent.

It was then that Barack realized that this whole situation was being overthought, particularly considering how alarmingly close Jill Smith had come to a successful murder of the leader of the Social Justice Army. Barack waited for the right moment and delivered a powerful blow to Jill's neck. Clearly, Jill had never been hit that hard before. Jill reeled back, and Barack was ready for the deathblow, eager to put an end to this infamous person who had caused untold grief for not just the Rainbow Shirts but the entire cause of social justice worldwide.

At that point Barack heard the crackle of the radio two stories up. It was check-in time. And if Barack didn't check in, the entire operation would be aborted. And maybe they would be better off that way. Except that they might not get another chance to grab Jerry Shankar. Jill Smith, at least, didn't look to be making an escape anytime soon. So Barack bounded up the stairs.

"Our current situation here is ambiguous!" Barack cried into the radio, awkwardly surveying the damage, wondering whether this was really as big a coincidence as it seemed. "Keep looking out for Jerry Shankar! Do not engage until the next check-in! Maintain radio silence until then! Over and out!"

"You!" yelled Jill from the second floor, her voice rasping from the strike to the neck. Barack was astonished that Jill was still standing after that beating. "I could give you Jerry Shankar! But I won't!"

"Yeah I know!" cried Barack in reply. "You're in cahoots! You always have been!"

"No!" said Jill. "I know what's really going on here! You picked this fight! You love fighting! You love fighting just for the fun of it! You don't want me to solve the problem!"

"I don't know who you think you're fooling," said Barack with a smirk. He took out the cassette tape, brandishing it where he was sure Jill could see it. "Jerry Shankar is just a side attraction. I know that the Free State of Iowa is who's really behind this mess! And I can prove it, just as soon as I find something that can play this tape!"

Jill gave a worried look and started backing away. Barack interpreted this as a sign of weakness and lunged forward. At this point Barack belatedly realized that there was a bear trap inhibiting further movement. Barack tried to remember when this happened. It must have been on the way up the stairs. Because Barack had lessened pain sensation, and there was already so much of it, the difference hadn't felt significant.

But in that brief moment of distraction Barack realized there were other problems. Jill took the opportunity to throw a nearby lamp, striking Barack right in the hands. Consequently, the cassette tape fell all the way down to the second floor, where Jill quickly scooped it up.

"It's no use!" Barack said. "I have copies!"

"Yeah?" said Jill. "Well I know for a fact that you just told me a lie so I can't wait to see what's actually on it!"

With that Jill was out the door. Barack, teeth gnashing, tried to get out of the bear trap. By the time Barack was free, Jill was long gone. The pain was excruciating, now that Barack had turned it up his pain sensiitivity settings ever so slightly to better identify where exactly the bear trap was. Barack was in no position to give chase. Barack struggled with trying to guess whether enough had gone horribly wrong at this point that the whole operation needed to be called off. Barack decided, reluctantly, that the answer to that question had to be yes.