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    Cool winter air beat at his face, stinging his eyes as he pedaled down Times Square. The buildings flew past him in a blur, his legs pedaling harder and harder as he drew closer to his mark. He could feel the burning in his thighs and winced as a cramp began to form in his gut, but he couldn’t stop. He had been given direct orders and to go against them would be even more suicidal than what he was doing right now. He held on to the handlebars single handedly with his right hand, his left hand was weighed down with something square and heavy. He looked at the time; he still had about thirty seconds. Good. He only had two blocks to go before he reached his destination. Time wasn’t an issue; what he needed to be worrying about was aim and precision.
    He was only one block away now. He slowed a bit and looked at the time again; 15 seconds this time. He zoomed by the last block and slowed his bike even more. He could see it. The Military Recruiting Station, only a few yards ahead. He readied the object in his hand, preparing to throw it. He didn’t know how much damage it could do outside of the building but he didn’t make the rules and he didn’t give the orders. Al did, and Al was boss.
    He was nearly right beside the recruiting station now. He slowed his bike to a crawl with ten seconds left. He chucked the item in his hand and watched it soar through the air towards the targeted building. He saw it break through the window and almost smiled. It looked like it would be an indoor attack after all, but that didn’t matter now. He needed to move, and he needed to move fast.
    He began to pedal hard again, ignoring the burning in his legs. Back at an average speed he tried to guess how much time was left. Curiosity overcame him and he looked back at the station. He was just about to tear his eyes away and look back at the road when…

    ~**~

    Robert Paradise sat at a wooden table in front of his Dell, Dual Processor, Laptop, all dressed in green. He was in a military recruiting station representing the Army and scattered elsewhere across the building were people from the Navy, Marines, Air Force, and National Guard. The room he was sitting in had small cubicles scattered though out it, some lined up in the middle of the room and others up against the gray, creamy colored wall. Roberts dull surroundings did nothing but make his day seem all the more boring. He didn’t see the point in recruiting stations anymore, they hadn’t gotten any recruits in the past couple of years that weren’t drunks, wife beaters, child molesters, or drug abusers. If they kept it up then there would be no more military. The country was losing all of their soldiers in the war over seas and they weren’t getting any one to fill empty spots here at home.
    He didn’t understand it at all. When he was a kid all he wanted to do was become a soldier and be a hero for his country, now it seemed that the military was being frowned upon. They were hero’s no more. His guess was that it had something to do with the president. No one liked him his first term in office and his second term hadn’t proved to be any better. News of the new election had come just months before the present day and it was as if the entire country was ready to put up streamers and throw a massive party. He had heard that people blamed the president for the war and in doing so took the lives of many loved ones. Robert could understand this. He felt the same way. He didn’t think they needed to be stationed over seas at all. It was their fault the Twin Towers got flown into in the first place. It was what the rich countries’ were famous for. They use all of this money to build all of these humongous building and fantastic landmarks, and then they flaunt it. They brag and brag until finally someone builds up the courage to come and take it away. Then they raise a big commotion and start a war. It was childish, almost immature. It was like being a kindergarten and bragging that you have cool markers, and when someone takes those markers away, you’re, all of a sudden, not friends anymore.
    This didn’t change anything though. The army was still running low on soldiers as well as all the other military forces. Soon enough there wouldn’t be anything to protect the country. Their situation was a desperate one. Robert had even gone as far as to ask his son, Johnny Paradise, to join when he turned eighteen. Johnny, however, thought writing would be a much better way to make a living.
    Robert ran his hands over his shaved head, closing his blue eyes, as these thoughts ran through his mind. The boredom of the day had slowly seeped at his energy and he felt absolutely exhausted. Pushing himself away from his laptop, he leaned back in his chair and stared out the window a few feet away from him. That was when it happened. Outside, in the winter daylight, Robert saw a black clad biker approaching the building from the right. He sat up in his chair and neatened up some papers on his table, preparing himself to recruit the approaching individual. However, as he looked back up at the window, all ideas of recruiting faded. He saw the biker slow to a turtles crawl and pull back his left arm. Robert jumped from his chair and attempted to say something but the words wouldn’t come. The figure in the street shot his arm forward and a block like object flew towards the building, flashing bright red numbers.
    10…9…8…
    It broke through the window and landed on the floor right in front of Robert’s feet.
    7…6…5…
    Robert’s eyes went wide and he ran towards the back of the room, diving behind a cubicle and ducking under the desk within it.
    4…3…2…

    ~**~

    KABOOM!
    Johnathan Paradise, A.K.A, Johnny, John, or Blaze if you so choose, tore his eyes from the scene he had just caused. Fear and guilt filled his heart as dust sprayed at his black outfit, guilt for killing or harming the people in that building and fear of being caught. He pedaled faster than ever, standing up as he did so. He needed to get back to HQ and he needed to get back fast. He had no idea how many people might have seen him throw the bomb at the recruiting station, how many people could be calling the police, or following him right now. HQ was the only safe place he could go at the moment.
    Johnny’s eyes filled with tears. Not because they were dry, not because he could feel the cold air burning his face, not because the muscles in his thighs stung in discomfort from how much strain was being placed on them, but because he knew someone in that building. He knew a single person out of however many were in there, he guessed about twenty or thirty. He knew his father was in that building at the time. Al knew his father was in the building at the time, and that is exactly why he chose Johnny for the job. For some reason Al enjoyed Johnny’s discomfort and Johnny knew it. That, however, wasn’t the point of this mission. The military was an unneeded part of the nation and it needed to be eliminated, that was their job. The Rebellion, a group of about twenty five people, all in the state of New York. They knew they weren’t the only ones, though. There were more spread across the nation, serving the same purpose, if they could find the other Rebels, they would be truly unstoppable.
    Johnathan slowed his bike as he neared a five-story, red brick building on his right. He turned his bike into an ally right next to it and set it against the wall behind a large dumpster, so that no one saw it and recognized it from the crime scene. He needed to be sure to take the necessary precautions so that they weren’t discovered. Looking around, out of breath, to see if anyone was around, Johnny began to pull down his pants. Underneath he wore a pair of faded Levi’s with light brown patches strewn across it. Next off, was his shirt and shoes, which uncovered a brown and white, striped polo and a pair of black socks.
    Remaining cautious he walked over to the garbage bin and threw the duds in side. Then just for an extra kick of safety he pulled out a matchbook, tore one out, struck it and lit the clothes aflame. After making sure all evidence was gone he walked over to a rusted door with chips of gray paint scattered across it and knocked twice.
    “Whose there?” Came a female voice from the other side, in a dominant tone.
    “Blaze. Just let me in. No games today, Shelly.” He heard the rattle of a chain lock, the sliding of a dead bolt, and the turn of a key in the handle before the door swung outward toward him. He took a step back so as not to get hit before slipping inside, with a final glance for by standers, and putting on his real shoes; a pair of DC skaters.
    “Well if it isn’t the man of the hour looking all ruffled and in disarray.” Shelly, a girl of 17 years old, said, pushing a lock of hazelnut brown hair behind her ear and then ruffling the hair of the blonde whom she had just allowed to enter.
    “How about you go out there, do what I just did, and then come back here looking as perfect as you do now.” Johnny snapped.
    “How nice, a little attitude and a little flattering. I like it.”
    Johnny gave a smile and kissed his girlfriend on the forehead before leaving her at the door. He walked through the building towards the TV room, grabbing a can of Pepsi on the way, ignoring the pats on the back and congratulations he received from the others and stopping to sign in. (Al required that all of them signed in and out when they came and left so if anyone snitched, he would know who was in and out of the building over time.)
    “Al wants to see you when he gets back.” Sal, the secretary for the Rebellion, informed Johnny as he finished writing on the sign-in clipboard. He gave her a nod of thanks and set down the pen before continuing to the TV room and sitting on the couch. He grabbed the remote off of the coffee table in front of him and turned on the news to see the amount of damage he had caused.