Emergency Card

As soon as the screen appeared that confirmed that Alexandre had allocated his statistic points, a wave of energy flooded Alexandre's body. He felt immediately lighter, as though he'd spontaneously lost ten kilos.

But that feeling was nothing compared to the abrupt change in his vision! Though Alexandre's vision had been excellent beforehand, it suddenly snapped into such unbelievable clarity that it was like he'd gone from blurred eyesight to putting on corrective glasses for the first time.

Every vein of every leaf of every tree snapped into perfect clarity, as though seen on a high-resolution computer monitor. His brain stopped ignoring the miniscule motions of insects and blades of grass, allowing him to pay attention to everything that moved in his vision without becoming overwhelmed like a normal human would. Colors became more vibrant as his ability to differentiate hues expanded.

"Wow," Alexandre whispered. He hadn't realized what an incredible difference just a few points in perception would be. He'd been somewhat reluctant to invest these points, even though he knew that they'd make him a more adaptable fighter, but now he almost wished he'd taken more points in perception! This new way of looking at the world was as addictive as a drug. He couldn't wait to look at things like the night sky and see what new details his heightened perception would reveal.

Well, with his levels and gear figured out, Alexandre had finally finished his preparations for the start of his education at Hunter Academy. That was still three days away, though. What to do in the meantime?

Well, first off, he decided to create a sort of emergency fund for himself, one that would be immune to electronic interference. He stooped down and scooped away the soft forest soil with his hands, then took a plastic trash bag from his belongings and wrapped up the $50,000 he had leftover from his earlier civilian life. If he really needed to get off the island, this money would be waiting for him.

"Besides," he said to himself as he buried the money in the hole, "I'll sleep better if I'm not carrying all this money around with me." He then covered the hole as best as he could with grass, stones, and leaves. When he was done, it looked pretty much like the surrounding area, even to his newly enhanced perception. But would this be enough to hide from someone with even higher perception than himself? After all, Director Hart had been able to smell blood through several meters of concrete…

"Not like anyone's going to be looking for it," he said. "Good old security by obscurity. Or something to that effect." He then took a moment to memorize his current location, a skill that had always come easily to him. If he ever needed to reclaim this money, Alexandre was confident he could find the location again with ease.

It was finally time to return to his hotel room and take some well-deserved rest.

***

A few hours later.

Washington D.C.—Capital of the United States of America.

A dark night had fallen over the American capital since the Great Wave had washed over the world. The city had changed a great deal. A ten-meter concrete wall encircled the whole city and access to it was controlled by a joint venture between the D.C. National Guard, the Metropolitan Police Department, and the Capitol Police. In the current day, only authorized personnel could make it past the strict military checkpoints.

This harsh restriction had turned the capital into a kind of ghetto for governmental officials. Contact had enthusiastically been cut between the general population and those who ruled them, and federal power was continuously strengthened after the ongoing state of national emergency had begun in 2026.

In short, states' rights had largely been suspended and were now merely symbolic. The president had used executive action to establish many new administrative agencies and headed them with his cronies according to the desires of special interest groups.

The United States were an oligarchy now, plain and simple. Technically many of the old tools of statecraft still remained, like the electoral system and the Judicial Branch, but everything was ultimately in the pocket of the President's minions.

One of the greatest ironies was that the US, which had so very recently hated Putin's Russia, became more like that vanished nation with every passing day.

It was toward this walled city of corruption that a limousine cruised along Interstate 95 South. Eventually, it slowed and pulled up to one of DC's checkpoints.

An armed guard leaned in warily as the tinted driver's window rolled down. "Identification and federal pass," the guard demanded, keeping a tight grip on his M4 carbine.

If Alexandre had been there, he would have immediately recognized the name on the papers, and the appearance of the man sitting in the limousine's back seat.

The soldier straightened up and saluted. "Thank you, sir. Just a moment while I confirm your clearance."

A thick bead of sweat rolled down the guard's neck as he ran the paperwork. It was a delicate balance when it came to high-ranking military personnel in the modern military world… on one hand, someone could make your life hell if you made them follow the rules. On the other hand, there were still some of the old guard left, people who would see you rightly court-martialed for giving them preferential treatment and breaking protocol.

Thankfully, it was only a few moments before the guard received a response from HQ. He breathed a sigh of relief. "You are cleared to proceed. Have a safe day, sir."

In the limousine's back seat, General Pantherson gave a firm nod, and his driver pulled the vehicle along the road into Washington, DC.