Catharsis

          "I think it was the bees."
Howie ran a hand through thinning hair and walked across the rocky dirt. Tim Ryan took two steps back.
          "You have nothing to fear from me," said Howie, raising his hands and stopping five feet from the reporter. "I want you to tell my story."
Tim slowed his breathing, striving for calm. He'd seen a lot of strange stuff, but nothing like this. Howie lowered his hands and watched Tim.
Tim mentally replayed the recent events leading up to this moment.

#

          It was always busy in the Washington News political department. Keyboards clattered and copiers whirred, accompanied by the low-volume output of six wall screens displaying local, national and international news. Phones rang intermittently. Tim Ryan picked up his land line.
          "Political desk, Ryan."
Silence. Then, "I have a story for you."
          "Uh, you need to go online to our tip line at newstip@wnews or call the tip number. Someone will reach out. This is the political desk and we don't take..."
The caller interrupted.
          "I logged an entry and left voicemail. No response. Maybe because I wouldn't supply the detail they were looking for. I need to share this in person."
Tim decided further rebuffs would take longer than hearing the caller out. He glanced at the clocks above the television gallery.
          "Ok. What's your name and number and what do you have?"
          "My name is Howard McGrath. I want to meet in person."
Tim glanced at the phone screen. Unknown caller.
          "Mr. McGrath, if I met with everyone who thinks they have a story, I'd spend all my time doing that with few stories actually getting written. That's why we have a tip line."
          "Remember the Merion bank story from a couple years back?" said Howard.
          "Sure, a locked vault door removed overnight. No sign of explosives, hinges bent and broken. Seemed it was broken out from the inside. Strange. Anyway, it was a waste of someone's time. The bank had closed months before and the vault was empty. You realize I'm a political journalist, right? Your story should go to the city desk."
          "I know what happened at the bank, and I know why they did it."
          "Go on, I'm listening," said Tim.
          "In Person. Now that you know what it's about, you should be interested."
          "Mr. McGrath... Howard. So, you know about the bank. It was all over the news."
          "I know what they found in the vault." said McGrath.
This was interesting. They had held something back from the public. Tim knew because he'd asked the metro reporter for some detail.
          "Which was?" said Tim.
          "A pocket copy of the United States constitution."
Ryan grabbed a pencil.
          "Where and when?"
         

#

          Blind meetings are always a risk. The Hilson stone quarry had been closed for a year. Tim's Toyota moved from paved road to dirt to gravel at the floor of the quarry. Hundred-foot walls of carved rock surrounded him as he pulled to a stop. A man stood in the center of the quarry floor. He wore shorts, sneakers, and a golf shirt. Tim got out and walked toward the figure.
          "Howard?"
McGrath came forward and extended his hand.
          "Thanks for coming," he said, "call me Howie."
Tim saw no threat. Hard to conceal a weapon in his get up. He was no youngster and he walked toward Tim with a slight limp.
Tim raised a digital recorder. "Mind if I record?"
          "Off-the-record and confidential."
Tim clicked a button.
          "Confidential and off-the-record conversation with Howard McGrath at the Hilson stone quarry on July 23, 2021."
          "Why the quarry?" said Tim.
Howie shrugged.
          "I wanted privacy. I also want to be sure no one gets hurt."
Tim scanned the bottom of the quarry and saw nothing but dirt, rocks, and scarred stone walls. Not even a car. He hadn't seen a car on his way in either.
          "Hurt?" said Tim.
          "Only by accident, I assure you," said Howie.
          "Did you walk in here or were you dropped off? It's a hike from the highway."
          "I still get around fairly well on these somewhat aged bones." said Howie.
          "How old that would be?"
          "Sixty-Seven."
Ryan would have guessed closer to his own age of fifty-five. Still, a long uneven walk with a bad leg.
          "Arthritis?" said Tim.
          "A touch. I try not to let it keep me down," Howie smiled.
          "Okay. So, how do you know about the pamphlet in the Merion vault? That information wasn't in the reports."
          "Because I placed it there before I broke out of the vault," Howie wasn't smiling now.
          Ryan scanned the top of the quarry wall, looking for movement. He saw Nothing.
          "How is that in any way possible? Investigators' best guess was some type of heavy hydraulic equipment, and that was a stretch based on how clean the empty vault was. The scene made no sense... and why the constitution?"
          "Well, I can't tell you for sure how it was possible," Howie stuck his hands in the pockets of his navy blue sweat shorts, "but I broke into the bank that night. The alarm system and video feeds were off since the bank was permanently closed. The vault was open. I locked myself in and dropped a copy of the constitution on the floor."
          "Why? Why any of this?"
          "I needed to know I could do it. I needed you to know I did it," Howie made a quick pushing motion as he spoke, adding, "I pushed the locked door open. Then I broke it off its hinges with my bare hands," he motioned, pulling and twisting.
Whatever really happened to the vault, Tim now realized he was dealing with a disturbed individual. He started planning his retreat. Howie returned his hands to his pockets.
          "I know what it sounds like. Believe me, I'm in full possession of my faculties." Howie laughed at his own remark.
          "Why don't we go back to my office and discuss this further? You can explain what happened at the bank... over coffee?"
          "I asked you here to show you something. I can show you, or you can leave. Your choice."
Tim looked around again. He looked back at Howie.
          "Okay, sure. Show me."
          Howard McGrath launched himself into the air. Shorts, sneakers and all. Two seconds later, he was a speck high above the quarry. Tim looked up in astonishment, shielding his eyes and trying to lock on to McGrath's tiny form. Howie landed just as suddenly, feet first with a soft thump and a grunt. Tim stared. Before Tim could react further, Howie leapt in a single jump to the back of the quarry fifty yards away. He stuck his hand in a large crack in the rock wall and retrieved something, then ran in a blur back to face Tim.
Tim froze as he saw the automatic pistol in Howie's right hand.
          "Ready?" said Howie, standing with arms at his sides.
          "For what?" croaked Tim, taking a step backwards.
Howard McGrath lifted the pistol to the side of his head and pulled the trigger.
          "No... wait!" yelled Tim.
          Tim watched in horror as a sharp crack sounded and Howie's head jerked to the right. Howie did not fall. His head moved back to alignment. Howie dropped the gun and jogged at a relatively slow pace back to the rear wall of the quarry. Several large chunks of rock lay on the ground. Howie picked up what must have been a one-ton slab and threw it at the side quarry wall thirty yards away, where it burst into several pieces which thudded to the ground. He then jumped toward Tim but landed at a distance, giving Tim some space. He walked slowly back to his original spot five feet from the shaken reporter.
          "How?" muttered Tim. His recorder was on the ground. He looked at Howie.
          "I think it was the bees," said Howie.
Tim returned his thoughts to the present, standing five feet from Howard McGrath in the Hilson stone quarry. He heard other words, but they didn't register.
          "Tim," said Howie.
          "Ye.. yes."
          "You understand now that it was me who broke out of the vault?"
          "Yeah, I believe you. How? Are you... alien?"
          "Definitely not," said Howie.
          "Can you see through walls?"
Howie laughed, "Come on Tim, that would be kind of silly, wouldn't it?"
Tim just looked at him.
          "Go home and remember, this is confidential. It'll be public soon enough. I'll call you to set up our next meeting." said Howie.
With that, the sixty-seven-year-old figure in shorts, pullover and sneaks picked up the pistol and shot into the air, rising until he disappeared from sight.
          Tim slowly picked up the recorder and walked back to his car. He sat down hard and stared at the empty quarry. He slapped his face hard. It hurt. Tim put the car in gear and began playback of the conversation as he drove home.
         

#

          Two days later, they sat in a booth at the rear of Buddy's tavern in downtown Washington, DC. Two other patrons were at the bar up front.
          "Your performance at the quarry was incredible. Amazing. Do you mind if I record?"
          "Same rules," said Howie.
          "Are you ready to share your story?" said Tim, "and why me?"
          "We share some of the same concerns. Concerns on how the past five years have affected this country," said Howie, sipping his beer.
          "If by that you mean I think our country is in serious trouble, I do." said Tim.
Howie shifted in his seat, grimacing slightly as he moved.
          "I'll tell my story, then I need your help. About two years ago, I was cleaning up my deck. I'd put it off since winter and here it was summer and odds and ends had been sitting untouched out there for months. This included an area rug left rolled up in a corner. I dragged the rug toward the garage when I felt burning in my legs and realized I was in a swarm of bees. They'd been inside the rug. So, I'm running around the deck, batting myself all over, trying to get away from the things. Finally, I run into the house and slam the door. Three of them follow me in - one inside my shorts. I smash that one as it stings me again. I chase down the others and get some revenge."
Howie swallowed beer. "You want some food?" he asked.
          "No," said Tim. The server came to check and Howie asked for pretzels and peanuts.
          "I had raised welts in about seven places that hung around for days. Then ungodly itching." Howie paused as the snacks arrived.
          "A few days later, I was fixing a loose deck plank, driving a four-inch nail when I got distracted and hit my thumb. Cursing, I quickly realized there was no pain. I looked at the hammer, sure I had hit my thumb hard. When I continued with the next nail, I hit it so hard it went in with one strike and the hammer head left an inch deep hole in the wood. I sat down and thought about this. I looked at my thumb again."
Tim had been jotting notes.
          "No swelling or blood? he said.
          "Nope. I was shocked, but also curious. I experimented. You know how, just for the hell of it, you put your hand near a gas stove flame to see how close you can get? I did that. Closer and closer. No pain. Into the flame fully. No pain. Turned my hand over in the flame. Nothing. No redness, no smell. I counted to thirty, then removed my hand and flexed my fingers. No damage. I was astonished, and a little scared. Then I got giddy and childhood fantasies ran through my mind. Like... do I have super powers now?"
          Tim studied Howard McGrath. Superhero wasn't what came to mind. Of course, his own picture of that fiction came from our entertainment world and didn't exist in reality--did it?
          "I noticed you sometimes limp. You seemed uncomfortable a few minutes ago. How is that possible?"
          "Yeah, that's odd, eh? The way I feel inside. A touch of arthritis. Forty pounds of extra weight. That hasn't changed at all. But nothing outside affects me. When I jump or hit the ground, it's no worse than the slight discomfort I sometimes get when walking."
          "What makes you think the bees caused this? They must sting thousands every year."
          "I'm pretty sure they were yellow-jackets, and I've been stung before myself. I started thinking about what could cause such a crazy thing. Well, something odd did happen earlier that day. I get allergy shots. They were weekly for a while, now I'm in maintenance mode, once per month. One shot in one arm, two in the other. There was a mix-up on that morning's visit. The nurse apologized, saying she had mixed up the trays and given me the wrong shots. After a tense exchange between some of the staff, they assured me the mix was not harmful, but that I'd need to wait a week before getting my correct monthly dose. Later that afternoon I got stung."
          "And the... flying?" Tim said, feeling disconnected from reality.
          "After the initial surprise, I got brave. My rear deck is about twenty feet high. It wasn't easy, believe me. Like jumping out of a plane. But I finally convinced myself to jump. Not feet first after hanging down, but a swan dive - to see if the impact would hurt me. As I approached the ground, I flinched, instinctively throwing my arms up to protect my face and head. Instead of hitting the dirt, I curved upward Like an aircraft aborting a landing. After about thirty feet of sloppy, uncoordinated flight, I hit a tree and slid to the ground. This led to a second jump, only this time I aimed for level and up. It was the wildest and best ride of my life." Howie grinned as he leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms.
          "Howard. Howie. I'm still processing this. It's hard to accept even though I've seen it. Seen you with my own eyes. I'll break your story, but why me? There are higher profile journalists out there. Not to mention the money you could make if you talk to the networks."
Howie sipped his beer and jiggled a few nuts in his hand before popping them home.
          "After my flight my teenage self came by for a visit. Like I'm reading a comic, only I'm in it. I'm daydreaming I'm a crime stopper. I'll get a costume. I'll need a secret identity. After ruminating on that for a while, I laughed out loud at myself."
Tim looked at his notes.
          "Who else knows about this? You said it happened two years ago. Family? Friends? "
          "I have no family left. Mom and Dad passed long ago. No siblings. Friends' kind of dried up after I retired in 2019. You're the first person I've shared this with after two years of soul searching. Two years of experimenting."
          "So now what? How do we proceed?" said Tim.
Howard McGrath sat forward, rested his chin on intertwined fingers, looking at Tim for a ten second count.
Tim looked back. Finally, "Howie?"
          "I want to improve our current political system." said Howie.

Tim looked around the bar. His nerves had eased somewhat as Howie told his story, but now the tension returned to his gut. He leaned forward.
          "No Howie. Crazy idea. You can't overthrow the government, no matter what your... abilities. More importantly, and you have to see this, it makes you no better than the January 6th insurrectionists. Actually, it makes you worse."
Howie leaned back, hands in his lap.
          "I've given this a lot of thought. The last five years have changed my view of our system of government. Things I thought I understood. I was still working as an IT guy back in 2016, when Trump won. I didn't vote for him. Not because I particularly disliked him, but because I felt a reality show guy with a past of shady deals and bankruptcies didn't belong in the oval office. But I'd never really paid much attention to politics. I was like the millions of people who pay little attention. It's just business as usual in Washington. Most people are too busy living. I remember being genuinely surprised the morning after the election when I heard he'd won. Then I thought... what choice do we have? Let's get behind him and give him a chance. Maybe he'll surprise us."
Howie paused and looked at the reporter. Tim had to smile and nod despite the knot in his gut. Howie continued,
          "And surprise us he did. In the worst ways possible. Beyond my wildest nightmares. My plan isn't because of Trump. But without him I don't think I'd have started to see the big picture. Before my retirement, I wasn't aware or invested. Just another middle-class American living the life. Back then the news was all Trump all the time. I had time on my hands after retiring and became a sponge for news. Particularly Trump and political news. What I heard and saw was fascinating and horrifying. I read the Mueller report cover to cover. I read the constitution - which is a rather easy read, by the way. The emoluments clause is easy to understand and so is obstruction of justice. I watched the impeachment hearings and listened to congressional representatives of all parties. My previous knowledge of how politics works was at the level of a schoolhouse rock cartoon showing how a bill moves through congress. In retrospect, my naivety was embarrassing. I believe the majority of Americans remain nae today, leaving a comparatively small number of politically active people and radicals to fight out America's future."
Tim continued taking notes.
          "I agree with a lot of what you're saying, Howie - but the system needs to sort itself out and rebalance. That's how political parties and the constitution work. This too shall pass."
Howie chuckled.
          "But, will it really? We've been rehashing the same issues since the seventies and some fundamental issues back to the civil war. The longer you're alive and the more aware you become, the easier it is to see. We just continue to churn. Our system doesn't really work - at least not for the people. The past five years should be the biggest wake-up call in the history of the United States. The buzzword tags they all use are just tribal tools to keep folks on a side, in line, or in fear. Right, left, conservative, liberal. Socialist. Communist. Terms not fully understood, even by many of the people who use them. But they're used all the time, regardless. Capitalism isn't understood either, It's an economic system, not a political one-although there's real crossover between capitalism and our current form of democracy. The country is governed top down, meaning we are all at the mercy of the military industrial complex Eisenhower warned us about, along with growing mega corporations. The biggest problems with political ideologies such as democracy or socialism or even communism are born out of ongoing human corruption and greed. Corporation's fund and maintain our political system. Lobbying groups thrive. After the capitalist friendly mega deals are made and they fund politicians to keep their positions of power, some left-over actions occur in the public interest. These concessions are usually small in comparison with actual societal need. Many political hot potatoes simply recycle repeatedly, giving a sense of progress which isn't real. Marie Antoinette's 'Let them eat cake' quote is in play today. Politicians are out of touch with working class reality and corporations don't care."
Tim took a drink. He was feeling a slight buzz and was grateful for it.
          "This is solvable over time through peaceful political action."
          "No - It's not. If it was, we wouldn't be having this conversation," said Howie.
          "The talking heads keep asking, why are the Republicans sticking with a toxic authoritarian figure like Trump? What happened to their true conservative platforms, values and ideas? The answer is in plain view. They no longer try to hide it. Republican party voters represent a minority of American voters, whether or not they are Trump sycophants. The party realizes it can't possibly win without the sizeable chunk of voters who are loyal to Trump, no matter what he says or does. They will do anything to stay in power, including gerrymandering, claiming voter fraud and enacting restrictive voter laws. The system simply cannot work like this. There may be decent people in congress, but the system is hopelessly broken. Lastly, and this goes back to my blindness and naivete, I always had faith that our government would protect us in emergencies and give us clear information when needed. I thought this was a given. It wasn't, it isn't, and the checks and balances in place are in name only. None of this was clear to me until I started paying attention."
Tim's voice was louder than he intended, drawing a look from the server.
          "Howie. Even if you are one hundred percent correct and the United States is destined to fail, an overthrow by an authoritarian regime with you as ruler is not the answer. It won't be accepted. It will cause a civil war. Things will be much worse than they are now. You must see that."
          "No... no," said Howie, palms out toward Tim.
          "Overthrow is not the correct word. Change is the word. We need to change the way we operate as a system. Amend the constitution. Government from the bottom up. Reapportion wealth in a more humanistic way. I want to facilitate change."
Tim appreciated the sentiment, regardless of its naivety.
          "You want to force change from a position of power. You need to work towards that goal politically using the system we have. What are you going to do? Take hostages and threaten congressmen and their families? Engage the military? "
          "No," Howie shifted again in the booth, "I admit it'll be a rough road. When has revolutionary change, such as the original formation of our country, been easy or painless? I've considered this for the past two years. I'm hoping I can convince you it's possible. First, I needed to determine my limitations. I continued my experiments. I've been to the vacuum of space and the bottom of the Marianna trench. Turns out I can hold my breath almost indefinitely. Tim, I've been to the sun. I made the trip in twelve minutes, which means I can move at close to the speed of light."
If Tim hadn't seen Howie fly and hurl a ton with ease, he wouldn't have accepted any of this. Now he believed every word.
          "I don't know how long I'll live. I don't know if these abilities will stay with me. What better service can I provide than creating a humanistic form of government? You said politics will take their course and we'll heal over time. What politician will give up power and influence willingly? What congress will vote itself into a new people friendly version of its own free will? What congress will agree to cut off lucrative lobbying and corporate gifts? Congress can't even arrive at a livable wage or save the planet by agreeing to not destroy the eco-system for profit. They respond to corporate money and power. I think I have the power to change that, so I'm going to try."
Tim had no answer to any of Howie's rhetorical questions.
          "The first time you threaten, hurt or kill people - any people, you lose the high ground-if there is a high ground here at all."
          "I will hurt no one. Not even in self-defense - not intentionally at any rate. I can't control what the people in power might do to hold onto that power. Whatever they do, the rhetoric will be that they are taking all steps to protect the populace from this menace to our democratic society."
          They sat quietly for a while. Howie watched Tim. Tim flipped from scenario to scenario in his mind and saw massive dangers and chaos everywhere. Finally, he posed the question.
          "How do you plan to make this happen?"
Howie shrugged and smiled, "How do I get to speak to a joint session of congress?"
Tim shook his head, "You don't. It just doesn't happen."
          "You have contacts," said Howie.
          "Not at a level to swing that. Best I can do is maybe a meet and greet with a senator."
          "Not good enough," said Howie, finishing his beer, "I guess we have to convince them there's good reason to let me speak."
          "And just how do we do that?" asked Tim.
Howie had been waiting for the we.
          "Publish my story. Give the key points of strength and speed. Tell the vault story. Tell your readers I believe a change to the government for the betterment of humanity is the best possible thing I can do. What will happen if you print that?"
Tim considered, downing the rest of his Corona.
          "Disbelief. Laughter at the 'joke'. Immediate opposition to the very idea of a change to our system of government. It would be seen as an authoritarian coup. Politicians will condemn and the media won't believe it without physical proof, despite my reporting track record. You'll likely be arrested. I won't be able to help you there."
          "I think I need to be arrested," Howie swallowed a pretzel and signaled the server.
         

#

          The Washington News published the story five days later. Most readers thought it was political satire. Networks reported it as a quirky piece of fantasy unusual for Tim Ryan. The FBI, however, takes all threats seriously. The day following publication, as Howie walked down 3rd street in Washington DC, two black suburbans pulled to the curb in front and behind him. Several men got out.
          "Mr. McGrath. You're under arrest for making terroristic threats against the United States government."
They cuffed him and placed him in the rear of the first Suburban.
          There was no conversation. Howie sat quietly as they drove to a city holding facility where he was strip searched and processed including photo and fingerprints. They placed him in an interview room with hands and feet shackled to the metal table above and below. A video camera was in plain sight in the corner at the ceiling. Fifteen minutes later a man entered the room.
          "Mr. McGrath? I'm agent Brooks from the FBI office here in DC."
The agent sat across from Howie, flipping through sparse pages in a folder.
          "Call me Howie." said the prisoner.
          "Howie. These are serious charges. You have no record and are a retiree. Why are you making such wild statements?"
          "Because I wanted you to arrest me."
          "Why?" said agent Brooks.
          Howie reached to his left wrist and snapped the manacle like breaking a potato chip. The same with the right. Brooks jumped to his feet. He reached instinctively but the holster on his belt was empty. Howie heard the key in the lock as he removed the leg cuffs and stood. Two men entered, one with his service pistol pointed at Howie. Brooks and the other agent came around the table to grab Howie on either side.
Brooks said, "Stand easy Howie, please don't make this difficult," as he took Howie's upper left arm and the other agent took his right.
          As the agents pulled his arms around to be re-cuffed, Howie pulled both arms loose and shoved the agents into opposite corners of the room. He walked towards the door as they scrambled back to their feet and one drew his weapon.
          "Stop!" commanded the agent covering him from the doorway.
          Howie did not stop. As he rounded the table, the agent opened fire. Three rounds hit Howie's chest dead center. The other agent fired twice into his back as he walked out the door. No alarms sounded as Howie walked toward the front of the building. The two agents must have been the only ones watching the video. All three agents followed him toward the front door. One raised his automatic but Brooks knocked his hand down, looking at frightened clerks scurrying out of the way.
          "We follow him. No more shooting," said Brooks.
Howie walked out the main door followed by the three agents. He smiled then shot into the air and disappeared.
Brooks and the other agents brought their hands down from shielding their eyes after losing sight of Howie in the bright sunlight.
Brooks pulled out his cell phone.

#

          The media became more attentive. Tim's original story became the story. FBI control and containment failed. Several clerks had seen the exit parade from the FBI office and at least five people had seen Howie take to the air. Someone leaked the holding room footage as well as the video from the outside security cameras. They took Tim Ryan in for questioning and released him.
Tim sat on his sofa looking at his television, phone at his ear.
          "That went well," said Howie.
          Tim channel surfed seeing alternating talking heads and replays of the video from the FBI office. CNN was showing a close up of Howie's face from the holding room with the caption 'Where is Howard McGrath?' followed by 'FBI considers McGrath a serious domestic terrorist threat'.
          "They've upgraded your status. They won't be polite next time," said Tim.
          "We have everyone's attention. Will you be able to publish the next piece?"
          "Yeah. they threatened me with jail time for not turning over my recordings and turning you in. So far, I'm holding my own on journalistic grounds. The paper will publish."
Howie threw the burner phone into a trash can as he exited Wendy's drive through with his spicy chicken sandwich and fries.
          The next day's headline read 'McGrath requests meeting with the president and congressional leaders.' The press secretary responded that we don't negotiate with terrorists. The secret service urged the president to leave Washington temporarily for a more secure location. POTUS refused stating this would be a step towards capitulation.
         

#

         

Three days later, Howard McGrath walked up to the gate at the white house and requested a meeting with the president. The uniformed guard chuckled and responded, "You and me both, friend." Moments later a contingent of plain clothed secret service agents arrived on the other side of the gate facing Howie, machine pistols drawn. Howie looked at the group.

          "I need to speak with the president. I don't want to see anyone hurt." At this point there was a muffled chunk and a metallic net fell into place over Howie. Its weight and velocity would have born an average man to the ground. Howie did not move. He gathered folds of the metal and ripped it apart and stepped out. The agents opened fire. Howie was pummeled with rounds as he walked around the closed gate and up the drive toward the main building. An agent tossed a grenade which exploded at Howie's feet. Howie stepped out of the smoke and debris and continued forward. Two rockets fired from the roof of the white house scored direct hits on the sixty-seven-year-old as a heavy caliber machine gun opened fire. Howie continued toward the entrance.
The president watched the scene unfold on video and issued a command.
          "That's enough. Let him in. He can do it by force, anyway." His detail grabbed him up to escort him to the underground bunker, but the president refused with a "Whoa. What's the point? Let me talk to this guy."
          Howie sat in the oval office across from the president of the United States. He was in awe despite himself. Five years back he had seen only America's greatness. He never would have threatened that, but he now saw things differently. Three agents stood on either side of the president. They had apparently come to grips with the situation as none held weapons.
          "Mr. President," said Howie, "Thank you for seeing me. I'm sorry it had to be this way and I'm sorry for the damage."
POTUS looked at Howie and saw an average older man, younger than himself. The man did not appear deranged except for the small amount of burned and torn clothing hanging from his overweight frame.
          "Jimmy, get him a robe," said the president to the air.
          "We can repair the portico and lawn Mr. McGrath. What do you want?"
          "I'd like you to call a joint session of congress so they can hear my proposal."
          "Howie. It is Howie, right? You must realize you can't demand a joint session of congress. Despite your seemingly remarkable abilities. I can simply refuse. If you hurt me or try to remove me the vice president steps in and will do the same and onward down the line. I also don't entertain proposals packaged with threats."
          "Sir, I'm hoping you'll feel differently after I outline my proposal. Okay, I'll be more precise. My demands."
          "Ah," said the president. "Now we speak plainly."
Now in a white robe, sipping water provided by Jimmy, Howie reached in his rear jeans pocket and handed the president a folded document that had survived the attacks on the portico. After review by the president, it would be released to news outlets.
The president read through the pages twice. He asked Howie several questions, then sat quietly for several minutes. Howie said nothing. The president cleared his throat.
          "Many people will be unhappy with what you are trying to do here. Myself included. There will be those that will do all they can to stop you. People more powerful than I. However, I prefer that fireworks are minimized and no one gets hurt. The easiest way I see to avoid that is to let you speak, particularly with your willingness to execute the pre-condition you outlined. That's going to take some time to set up. You will hold to that?"
          "I will," said Howie. It was now, under controlled conditions, or later in a likely much more violent and dangerous way.
The president placed the sheets on the table.
          "I will set up the joint session you've requested for four weeks from today at 8pm. We'll either hear you out there or we'll be discussing what other steps we need to take."
          They provided Howie with clothes and escorted him out. Police and FBI vehicles crowded the drive. Howie immediately took flight.
         

#

         

Howie came to ground at his home address in Virginia for the first time in months. Police and news vehicles littered the drive. He ignored them and went into the house and called Tim.

          "The president has agreed to call the joint session. I've asked him to have all fifty governors there as well. The session will be at 8pm on the twenty seventh.
          "Jesus." Said Tim. "Four weeks from now."
          "I leave for the Pacific at six in the morning," said Howie.
         

#

          Howie hung in the air approximately three thousand miles offshore. Vast sparkling water stretched below under a cloudless sky. He saw it coming. The missile arched downward less than a quarter mile away. It would be an air burst at sixteen thousand feet. The ultimate experiment. If they did not do it now, they might do it in a populated area later when they grew desperate. The spec grew larger, then bloomed into an unimaginably bright light filling every area Howie could see. He instinctively held his breath as hurricane-force winds buffeted his body, followed by a tremendous boom and a sense of suction as oxygen gave way to vacuum. Howie was thrown violently. He relaxed and rode the waves of the elementary forces being used against him.
          Fifteen minutes later, satellites and surveillance planes outside the perimeter of the blast zone displayed video of Howie, now naked, flying out of the mushroom cloud. Moments later, a soundless and barely perceptible beam shot down from above. The satellite-based particle weapon struck Howie directly between the shoulder blades. He tumbled in a spin head over heels as the beam maintained its contact as he hit the water at high speed.
The joint chiefs watched the video as did the president. They watched for twenty minutes after Howie hit the water. There was no sign of Howard McGrath.

#

          The joint session began with the president being the last to enter the chamber. A section of the upper gallery held all fifty United States governors. They had agreed they would hold the session as planned after Howard McGrath was either killed in a nuclear blast, or survived and attended in person. If the former the session would stabilize leadership. If the latter, it would hear confirmation of McGrath's demands.
          Armed guards were in each aisle and in the hallways outside. This was more to deal with crowd control than with Howard McGrath. There was the usual hum of conversation as those assembled awaited the president's opening remarks. At 8:04 pm following a minor commotion at the rear center door, there was a collective gasp as Howard McGrath entered and walked down the aisle. A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes followed Howie. He was clean shaven and wore a navy-blue suit and tie. He walked up the side steps to the raised platform and approached the president. POTUS was ashen faced, but waved his secret service detail aside and offered Howie the podium. He then stepped back and sat down.
          Howie looked around at the most powerful individuals in the country. Humbled and a little sick to his stomach, he remained determined. Howie didn't care what people thought of him personally, only the outcome. He'd practiced the speech at home. He adjusted the mic and heard his voice amplified in the historic chamber.
          "Mr. President. Mr. Speaker. Your Honors from the judiciary and from our fifty states. Our joint chiefs. Thank you for allowing me to speak here today."
          There were shouts of, "Like we had a choice!" and "terrorist!". There was also some scattered applause from the general gallery and, surprisingly, from a few legislators as well. Since the release of his document, there had been riots. The media published opinion pieces on every topic imaginable. Comparisons to coups in other countries. January 6th. Authoritarianism. Fascism. End of days. There were also pro marchers. There were political scientists and scholars weighing in that we need a major change in the way we govern to stave off the country's demise. Many felt that our existing system of government is too deeply embedding in the fabric of the capitalist corporate world to be changed. Some felt this was the only way to prevent the total breakdown of earth's eco-system. Outside of Washington politics and to his surprise, Howie found he had a large fan following.
          "Please." said Howie. The crowd quieted.
          "You've all read my document. I call it a 'Humanistic Template for America'. It details the changes needed to our current system of government. As you know, I insist these changes occur. I am doing so because my physical capabilities enable it and this seems to be the only way we can make aggressive positive change in our society."
          "This is an attempt at an authoritarian takeover by force!" shouted someone followed by other shouts and booing.
          "Please, let me finish." Howie waited until the noise subsided again. He sipped water from a glass provided at the podium.
          "Everyone in this room has seen it whether or not they admit it. Our political system has transformed over the past five years. Values and ideals have taken a back seat to raw political and monetary power. Yes, there has always been that. But not like this. Most of mainstream America doesn't realize how close we came to a successful violent insurrection. They don't realize that age old tactics of instilling fear and creating division have been used to tremendous effect during this time. More than any time in our history since the civil war. To most, who typically ignore politics, it's just politics as usual in America. Only it's not. Greed and a desire for more power motivate the changes we're seeing. Fueled by lies and mis-direction and aided by the media and the relatively new power of the internet in politics. False media narratives are ongoing and that effort has had help from foreign adversaries. We are in a very bad place and it's far from over. In fact, we are over the precipice and hanging by a thread. The constitution in its current form has been repeatedly violated or completely ignored. The emoluments clause has not been enforced. We permit obstruction of justice. A sufficiently corrupted body cannot police itself. For any who haven't, I suggest you read some history. Try 'The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire'. Dig a little deeper into Nazi Germany. Listen a little more closely to scientists and psychologists. The people need solid sources of truth."
          "Your truth!" shouted an aged spectator.
          "Objective truth," said Howie, "as hard as that can be today. People need to listen and watch what the actual power players do and say-not just what your favorite media outlet or friends say." The crowd noise was higher but the shouting subsided once again.
Howie looked around the chamber. He noticed most of the judiciary were non-reactive, as were the military. The president and the speakers remained seated watching the crowd. Howie waited again for quiet.
         "I'm going to finish up tonight by restating the main tenets of my Template for America. Before I do, please take a quiet moment. Try hard to remember your original interest in politics, in service. For many, that was a long time ago. Remember your optimism, your sense of purpose and the possibilities you saw before you. Try to remember how you felt before you learned how the system actually works. Before the club mentality set in. Before the constant fund raising. Before tribal warfare. Think about your families and your children. Your neighbors. Service members who have paid the ultimate price. Officers hurt or killed in the violent insurrection against our Capitol. Remember Ronald Reagan's vision of America as a 'shining city on a hill'."
          To his surprise the room had grown quiet at his request. Howard McGrath, senior citizen of the United States of America, thought about his mom and dad, wondering if they'd be proud or ashamed. He decided on proud. After two minutes Howie spoke again.
         "The United States constitution will be amended. Political parties will be disbanded. We will eliminate the electoral college. Corporate and organizational monetary support and/or lobbying for political candidates will cease immediately and be illegal in the future. A federal committee to include members possessing expertise in the major issues facing our country today will be set up. It will include members with social, psychological and government expertise. The department of justice will initiate investigations into any and all violations of the constitution or criminal activities engaged in by any member of the legislative, judicial, or executive branch. Charges will be brought as dictated by the evidence. No member, including the president, will be immune to investigation and prosecution. The non-negotiable list of initial national priorities to be followed will include: Mandated Covid-19 vaccinations for all citizens. Aggressive steps to repair the effects of climate change. Nationalized healthcare for all Americans. An improved quick reaction task force of specialists with the authority and dollars to deal with any potential future pandemic very early after detection. Standardized lower costs for prescription drugs in America based on worldwide costs for the same drugs. Simplification of the tax code to a flat rate followed by incremental rate increases for higher income. Higher earners will pay a higher percentage. The elimination of all corporate tax exemptions. National infrastructure repair and national police reform." Howie paused and flipped a page. The room remained quiet.
         "The federal committee will serve for a ten-year period for continuity and to enable consistent progress. We will establish state committees of the same make-up adding members with solid knowledge of each state's priority issues. These committees will be composed of people who live in that state. These state committees will perform searches for professionally qualified candidates for congress to work towards completion of the national and state priorities. The American people will vote directly to elect their legislators from this body of candidates. These candidates will be people qualified to deal with the priorities - not politicians seeking to win a popularity contest. That idea is outdated. The government will fund campaigns equally for each candidate to include publication of background information and public town hall meetings. These new members of the congress will hold office for six years. If their accomplishments warrant it, re-elect them. The existing congress will work with the incoming congress over the next year to educate and transition. The new congress will determine the changes required to procedures and enact laws and constitutional amendments to facilitate this new form of governance. Elected candidates can be removed every three years. Removal will be via a special vote of the American people based on a poor performance evaluation performed by the committees and provided to the public. We will re-evaluate the national and state priorities every three years based on progress to date and any new priorities arising, allowing us to change course if needed."
Howie looked around the chamber. The audience buzzed with muted conversation. He sipped some water.
         "It will be difficult. it will be a challenge, but it's doable. Our existing government institutions and career employees are strong. They are the backbone of the system and they remain. All current senators and congressmen will assist through elections and the transition to a new congress over the next year. The executive branch will do the same. Majority vote of the American people from a list of candidates provided by our committees will elect a new president and vice president. Qualifications to be determined but all having government and senior management expertise. All committee members and candidates for congress will undergo psychological testing to eliminate any candidates showing sociopathic or narcissistic tendencies. We will work out the details as the committees begin work. The funding for these changes will come primarily from the restructured tax code. Other funding will come from to be determined reductions in the military budget."
          Howie paused and said he would take a few questions. People moved to strategically placed microphones.
          "What gives you the right to force these changes? This is a terrorist act against your own country!" said the first questioner.
          "I'm doing this for my country because I can. I worry we won't exist fifty years from now if we don't make drastic changes now," said Howie.
          "This is a hostile takeover!" shouted a red-faced senator generating bellows of support.
          "It's not," said Howie, "I ask for nothing. I will have no control over committee choices or public elections other than insisting on the initial priorities and that qualified candidates are tested. I will force these changes to our system and insure they are amended to the constitution."
          "You've said you won't hurt anyone, and this is for the good of all. It's not good for me and my family." said a congress woman, "Why should we agree at all? We just say no. There's nothing you can do about it." This received large approval from many in the chamber.
          "As you are all aware from the document, current federal and state officials will receive their salary to the end of their originally expected term, and their expected pension for life. Each will also receive a million-dollar bonus for assisting with the transition and vacating their seats after new senators and congressional representatives are elected. That should resolve your concerns," Howie said.
          "And if we say no?" yelled someone away from the microphones.
          "If any legislators refuse to step down or interfere with the process of change, I will begin destroying corporate assets in the home states of those individuals. Or I will take down assets of organizations those representatives are beholden to. The choice is yours. Not something I want to do or take lightly. I have advised major insurers to reevaluate their commitments to an extensive list of companies."
There was a scuffle to Howie's right. A man ran forward pointing a gun. The secret service detail took the president to the ground as the man fired repeatedly at Howie. One miss and two hits to no effect other than a dramatic hush in the crowd. The man was grabbed and hustled away.
Howie waited for calm.
          "The United States will have a system of government that works for the people. We will have knowledgeable representation committed to the real issues we and the planet face. Fact based issues. Science based issues. The current system is a money based corporate sponsored political popularity contest. The potential for wealth and power motivates the contest today. We must have representation that is very difficult to corrupt. Corporations and aspiring entrepreneurs need to know you can still make it big in America, but you're going to have to give back and accept smaller bottom-line profits. This lesson may have to be learned by force, and that's okay with me. This is for humanity and the planet. Not for the elite. Not for corporations. Top-down governing ends this year. I don't want to read another article pointing out that a fast-food chain with a net profit of over four billion in a year won't raise the employee hourly rate by ten dollars because it would drop that profit by two million and that is somehow unacceptable. Ultimately as we move on from our top priorities, how about we figure out how to feed the world?"
This received a reasonable round of applause from the gallery of a mostly hostile and confused room.
Howie walked away from the podium, up the aisle and out of the chamber.

#

          The next few months saw much unrest. The tribal battling was inevitable. They labeled Howie a traitor, a dictator. Some called him a hero and a force for positive change. While many in congress accepted the buy-out, some tested Howie's determination hoping to call his bluff. This resulted in the destruction of several auto plants and the shutdown of a major oil pipeline. It also became necessary to destroy a weapons system just completed by two major aerospace firms fulfilling a lucrative government contract. Several people were injured and a bullet fired at Howie hit someone. That person recovered. After these incidents the remaining elected officials were told in no uncertain terms by their previous corporate benefactors to cease, desist and take the buy-out. The military did not enter the fray. They had seen and studied the results of the test in the Pacific.
          Establishing committees and professional candidates for office gained momentum. Activity went on out of Howie's hands and out of his control-which was fine with him, but he and Tim kept a watchful eye on procedures. Psychological testing was enforced. New professional candidates financial background and ties to any corporations were checked. Tim continued to publish articles in his ongoing series 'The Rise and Fall and Rise of America'. Tim and Howie became friends. The process would take time. Attempts to eliminate Howie continued despite the preemptive strike that had forced the powerful into acceptance. Corporations balked at taxes coming their way and many announced plans to move to a friendlier country. Protests on gun control and LGBTQ rights continued. Police officers resigned. Tim's articles asked for restraint and patience. We made it through a pandemic. We survived the civil war. We can survive this. Competitors will replace companies choosing to leave the US or up-and-coming newbies willing to take a smaller profit margin will pick up the slack.
As the transition continued, current intelligence and enforcement authorities did not rest in their efforts to stave off the restructuring of the government. On an otherwise ordinary evening a bespectacled FBI analyst hustled into his team leader's office.
          "McGrath has a wife," he said, laying a sheet in front of his boss.
          "He changed his name a couple years back and moved a couple times. He reported as single and we never picked her up. We've seen no one at his residence other than the reporter, Ryan. She apparently lives in upstate New York. McGrath rented a property there from a work acquaintance in 2016. If he sees her, it's either when he goes into orbit or flies so low, we can't pick him up."
          The lead analyst scanned the sheet and reached for the phone.
         

#

          The media and police presence at Howie's house had continued but much reduced. Funny how the craziest things can become the new norm. He and Tim sat at his kitchen table as Howie read the draft of Tim's next installment. The committees were coming along and the current legislative body had mostly lived up to the continuity transition agreements in their buy-out packages. It was a complex time as government still needed to function, albeit slowly, as the transition continued. It seemed like phase one was stabilizing. Tim picked up his cell in response to a text tone. He frowned and looked at Howie.
          "Howie, a friend of mine in intelligence says there's a lot of activity at the FBI task force and he heard a leak. They say they found your... wife?" said Tim, showing Howie the text.
Howie walked out the door. Tim ran after but when he got to the porch Howie was gone.

#

          The small cape cod lay nestled in a wooded area of Brighton, New York. The normally quiet area around the picket enclosed structure was now bustling with activity. Police with strobes flashing and black SUVs with blue blinkers lined the street. An FBI tactical swat truck sat out front.
Inside in the living room were two uniformed swat team members and three FBI agents. On the couch sat a woman in jeans and a loose flowered pullover blouse, her brown copper hair pulled back in a pony tail. One agent sat next to her on the couch, the other two standing nearby.
          "You're sure I can't offer you coffee or tea? Said the woman, nervously.
          "No thank you, Mrs. McGrath. Please pack up a few things and come with us," said the agent sitting by her side.
          "Call me Julie, please. Why would I want go anywhere with you guys?"
          "Come on, Julie. You certainly know what your husband is doing and what's going on out there in our world, right?" said one agent.
          "Of course." said Julie, "I just don't see how any of that has me leaving with you. They reached an agreement."
Yelling came from outside and static erupted from the swat team officer's lapel followed by, "McGrath is here-he's coming in the house."
          "Damn it," said the standing agent as all three drew weapons.
The swat team pointed machine guns toward the door.
Howie came in and looked around the room.
          "Hi Jules." He said, winking at his wife of forty-eight years.
          "I guess this wasn't totally unexpected?" said Julie.
The agent sitting next to Julie, pistol in hand, looked at Howie.
          "Mr. McGrath. Your wife is coming with us in the interest of national security. Please don't make us do anything drastic here. We'll make her safe and comfortable while we renegotiate the situation."
Howie shook his head.
          "So, the government takes hostages now to gain political advantage?"
          "Which government Mr. McGrath... ours or yours? Haven't you done the same?"
          "I haven't. I've suggested the military industrial complex re-evaluate its position - and I don't own the government. The government is supposed to work for ordinary people like me. I doubt my wife wants to go with you. Do you want to go, Jules?"
The agent snapped a handcuff on Julie's wrist, pistol pointed in her general direction.
          "Mr. McGrath, please stay where you are. You're coming with us Mrs. McGrath."
Julie snapped the handcuff off her wrist and shoved the agent to the floor. Howie pushed one swat guy into the other hard and they both fell to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. The two remaining FBI agents backed toward the side of the room guns drawn, one aimed at Howie, the other at his wife.
          "Come on gentlemen. Don't waste the ammo. Let's go Jules."
          The two walked past the swat team pair as they climbed to their feet. Outside they looked around at the crowd and the flashing lights on all sides. The video went forth from multiple trucks as the couple clasped hands and leap into the air together.
         

#

         "I wasn't expecting that."
Tim's voice came from Howie's cell phone speaker.
         "Jules and I do most things together. Including our allergy shots. She was helping me on the deck that day when all this started. We held Jules in reserve in case something unexpected happened. I should have expected them to find her." said Howie.
         "You're off the grid now. No one knows where you are," said Tim, "but there's been no other action taken in terms of interference with the committee set up and moving towards new elections. I think the tide may be turning."
         "I'll be out of touch for a while, Tim. We're moving on to phase two. But you know how to reach me if needed."
         "Phase two?" said Tim.
         "You'll be hearing about it soon. Please keep the articles coming." Howie hung up and turned to Julie. They sat by the beach with a full moon bright overhead, listening to the intermittent roar of the surf.
         "Checklist?" said Howie.
Julie looked at her phone.
         "Our stuff is all there. Reporters are engaged and we've hired translators." said Julie.
         "I still worry about us splitting up," said Howie.
         "You always worry about everything. It's adorable."
The couple stood and embraced.
         "Contact me when you get to Beijing." said Howie.
         "And I'll wait to hear from you as soon as you're settled in Moscow. We meet in person at the safe house after two weeks and compare notes." said Julie.
The senior couple kissed then took to the sky, separating into dwindling specks that disappeared in the moonlight.