Chapter One: Mission Accomplished

A shot rang out and then a second. Gordon Granstien, the Prime Minister of Canada, moaned softly and fell heavily. There was a momentary stunned silence, then pandemonium. Above the din the Peace Tower clock struck high noon; it was the first of July, 2013. The medical team quickly surrounded Granstien, turning him over on his back and holding his head up until a borrowed blanket was placed under his head. Undoing the shirt buttons a medic proceeded to block the flow of blood. In less than a minute an ambulance moved in with siren wailing and lights flashing. The Prime Minister was loaded aboard and quickly driven away, ambulance attendants working feverishly to stop the loss of blood and to connect life support systems. Members of the official party either froze, threw themselves on the ground or turned to go back to the street. Two security officers took Governor General Stewart Whiteowl by his arms and rushed him back toward the entrance. Children along the Parliament Hill walkway began to scream and cry, running toward their parents or just to get away. Television cameras kept rolling, the commentators' voices rising in pitch and volume, in both official languages. The rest of the security detail ducked low, drew their pistols and scanned the crowd, a look of panic on their faces. A man in a white smock slowly stepped forward from the front echelon of the crowd, his hands over his head and a resigned look on his face. His plan had worked; he had gone unnoticed, standing close to a small medical team in white coats. Two RCMP members now lunged at him and threw him roughly to the ground, handcuffing his hands behind his back. "Where's the gun?" "In my pocket, you can have it." Tony Becker answered without emotion. "Is there anyone else with you?" one shouted while the others glanced at the crowd and began talking on their communications systems. Tony did not answer, but laid there placid and satisfied. I got the son-of-a-bitch, he thought. I've done it, I've saved the country from his evil. Tony still had seventeen bullets remaining, bullets he would never need again. His mission was accomplished, he had shot the man who was destroying Canada with his hateful program to develop nuclear weapons. The man and the program that caused Beth's miscarriage. Beth and Ron were avenged and the program will be stopped. He was sure of that. He had no other ambition, no urge to survive, nothing more to achieve. He felt at peace and smiled as he looked through vacant eyes at the anxious policemen. His mind went over the events that began two years ago. They were good times, early retirement to be enjoyed with a caring wife, a place in Phoenix to play golf during the winters, good American friends, a healthy family. But slowly the good things were destroyed - by American arrogance, by bad luck, and the final and most resentful blow, by a spiteful Prime Minister whose ego scrambled his vision. Who had decided to arm Canada with nuclear weapons to piss off the Americans. Beth lost her baby because of this, because Granstien challenged America's obsession with its security. By shooting Granstien Tony knew he would turn the clock back to the good old times.