A Walk In The Park

“I see it every time I close my eyes: a gun in my hands and his body lying in a pool of blood - then suddenly: nothing.” Alana fiddles her thumbs against each other and bites her lower lips. She did this often when her memories began to slip.

“Nothing?” One of the men says, scribbling notes on a legal pad. 

“Nothing! Just empty space filling all the corners of my mind. I can’t — “ she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes as if to catch the vision — “I know it doesn’t make any sense.”

One of the men paces back and forth while the other continues to scribble. 

“Alright”, the man pacing leans against the interrogation table and looks at Alana for the first time since she got here. “One more time from the top - state your name, the claim you’re making in regards to your treason against the United States of America - and how you found USAG. And don’t lie.”

She sighed deeply and leaned forward, “My name is Alana Rivera. I am 27 years old. I don’t know how I got here, but in 36 years, I will kill the most powerful man alive - I don’t know his name, but I know he will be the President. And I know that I will not be able to stop myself. So, I need you to please - stop me.”

The noise fell thinly in the room and the man writing continued while the other pressed his fingers against his forehead. 

 “Look, Ms. Rivera —“

“—Alana”

“—Alana, right. I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, I don’t know who you are, and in normal circumstances, I wouldn’t give you the time of day. But the thing is, you’ve got me in a bind. You found our location - people don’t find us, Ms. Rivera. And people certainly don’t live to tell about it.”

The man writing looks up for the first time, “Shall I give the order, Mr. Powell?”

“Not yet, agent Harris.”

Mr. Powell looks back at Alana. “You’ve killed three of my men getting into the facility. And that’s something people also don’t do.” He stood up and faced the wall, pausing for a while before turning around and looking straight into her eyes: “I’ll make you a deal: I won’t kill you if you join my team.”

Agent Harris went pale. “Sir, I don’t —“

“Agent Harris, leave Ms. Rivera and myself alone for a moment.” He said shortly. Agent Harris leaves the room while Alana takes a deep breath, trying to collect herself. 

“Who are you and what do you do?” Alana said, biting the bottom of her lips. “What is this place? Please, I just need you to stop me from my future.”

“Alana, listen to me. I can help you but first you have to help me. You see, you found USAG: The United States Reclamation Agency. Our mission is to restore proper order to the world by any means necessary.” He said flatly. 

“So, you want me to commit treason against our country?” She said.

“Isn’t that what you’re already going to do? See, I’m already helping you by giving you an option to do something truly worthwhile.” He said with a sly grin. 

“I suppose it is —but I’m confused, why —“

“You don’t get to ask questions, Ms. Rivera.” Mr. Powell began to turn red, losing patience. “It’s simply “yes” or “no.” If you agree, I let you live. If you decline,” He takes his gun out from its holster, cocks it and points it at her head, “I kill you right here, right now.”

Alana closes her eyes, trying to regain a memory from ahead of her: she sees it all again: the gun, her hands, the blood, his body on the ground. She can never see it clearly, but she sees it all the time. 

“I don’t want to die.” She said weakly. 

“Good. You’ll kill for me then. No questions asked, Ms. Rivera. You’re on our team now.”

He begins to leave the room, but turns around quickly, and says: “Oh, and Ms. —I’m sorry — Alana: if you ever betray me, I will know it, and I will make you regret it.”

He turns to leave, and as he does her head begins to ache, “Wait! Who are you? How did I get here?” She bites her bottom lip.

Mr. Powell calls in Agent Harris. “You’re Agent Alana Rivera, this is Agent Max Harris. You’re an Assassin for the US Reclamation Agency, everything else is in the past.”

“The past?” She places her hands against her temples. But just as quickly as she says it, her thought is gone. All she remembers is what is happening now: she is an assassin for the USAG.

---

[36 years later.]

Alana leans against the counter nursing her drink. The bartender announces last call and begins wiping down the counters. 

“Alana Rivera?” A voice behind her says. 

She looks at him thinly, “I’m sorry I’m not good with names.”

“I know,” he says as he props himself onto a barstool nearby, “you’re not good with the past.”

She maintained her gaze, attentively on her drink as she continued, “So I know you somehow, it seems.”

“Yeah, Lana. You do. And it’s been a while. I didn’t know if I’d find you again before—“

“—before I eliminate the elected power.” She takes another sip.

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase, Lana. We worked together for many years and I know you don’t remember that. I know you hate your job because of what you do. And I know you don’t remember how you got roped in, but you know there’s no way out.”

“Then it seems there’s nothing to discuss here, is there? And I’m sorry I really would ask for your name but I —“

“—I know you won’t remember it. I don’t take that personally anymore, don’t worry.” He took a deep breath. “Lana, I just came here to say you can still be a person - a normal person. He doesn’t have to take it all away from you. He’s already taken so much. And I know you don’t know who. But I know you’ve been on a streak — 203 is no small number. I guess you don’t feel that anymore.”

“I don’t, I just follow orders and do what I’m told.” She throws the rest of her drink back.

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a photograph. “I really thought we could do it all, Lana.” He says as he examines the picture warmly. 

“Here.” He slides it across to her. She glances over at it: it’s a picture of a young family taking a walk in the park; the couple holds hands and the man holds a child in arms. She picks up the photo with both hands. “Is that?” She swallows hard as tears begin to gather in her eyes. “Yes, Lana - it’s us. It’s you, me and our daughter, Brea.” Her head begins to ache and her throat swells, if she had memory or nostalgia, she felt that it would be rushing back to her but she cant see it; only feel it in her body: a sense of loss.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s —“ he places his hand on her back, leans over and whispers: “Lana, let’s step outside. It’s not safe.”

---

Just outside, he began to explain it all. Years ago, when she first took her position in the USAG they met and fell in love; it was complicated of course: to always wake up without a recollection of what had happened, of who he was, or what they were doing. But her body always felt the truth of what mattered most: against all odds they found each other. But they had to keep their arrangement a secret; the USAG didn’t approve of, what they called, “attachments.” 

Every day she woke up in a pool of sweat, and each night she held him tightly until all her memory flushed away. “You don’t remember me, and that’s okay. I love you, Lana.” He almost sang the words to her as she fell asleep. He made her feel human again, and she loved him and hated him for that.

They had a little girl while they were stationed in Spain. She had managed to maintain her kill order even while in her third trimester. The USAG was dodging close calls in the global sector, so they weren’t paying as close attention as they did now. As long as she kept killing, they asked no questions.

“So what happened? Why aren’t we together? And our daughter? I’m sure she’s got a whole life of her own now. We’re so old.”

“Lana, the agency found out about us. About Brea” He said, “It wasn’t safe for us to be together anymore.”

She swallowed hard. She didn’t know if it was true, she normally suspected someone might use her stolen memories against her, but she felt in her body a truth she feared to ask:“Brea is dead, isn’t she?” 

“Yes, I’m sorry, Lana.” He said flatly, “she never had a chance.”

“What’s your name? Do you still love me?” She said, fumbling to light a cigarette. 

“Maxwell Harris. Former agent for the USAG. I’ve been trying to find you for years,” He grabbed her arm tightly, “I know that means nothing to you, but I didn’t want this life for you, Lana. Not after everything.” 

 “Who killed her?” She continued let the nicotine pass through her lungs. 

“Lana,” he began, “it doesn’t matter it was the agency’s doing. Once they found out —“ She stepped outside his embrace and slammed her hand on the hood of the car,“Max — who killed her? You have to tell me!” 

“Lana, I — I’m sorry I can’t…”

“Max, please. I won’t remember soon anyway.” She pleaded. 

He looked down at his feet and kicked a cigarette butt aside. He took a deep breath and looked up at her: “I’m sorry, Lana. You did.”

She swallowed hard. 

“Where is he?” She said flatly. 

“Who?”

“You know who, Max.”

“Lana, no - you have spent your whole life — “

“I don’t care anymore. Please before I forget why I want to—“

“He’ll be in Washington, D.C. tomorrow.” 

She grabbed his hand tightly, “Max, please. You said you used to sing to me to remind me. Please help me one last time.”

---

[Hours later in Washington, D.C.]

“Alright, believe it or not, we don’t need security clearance to get past the left wing” Max said, we have access to the butler’s pantry - It’s how we used to conduct business.”

“You don’t think it’s changed?” She folded out the blueprint and began to trace lines. 

“Not a chance in hell.” He said firmly.

At the top of the hour, they made their descent into the left wing and the rest flowed as naturally as it had when they were much younger. Even without memory, Alana could kill in her sleep. This would be no different. 

“Max, thank you for making me feel like a human. Not necessarily now, but back then.” She held his hand and he leaned in to kiss her but she stepped away. “You’ll have to be quicker than that.” She said, looking back at him with a playful grin. 

“I never heard what happens after this, Lana.” Max said. “You always said: “a gun in your hands and his body lying in a pool of blood - then suddenly: nothing.”” 

“I guess we’re about to find out.” She loaded her gun and blended into the security line. 

Just ahead of her, the President was about to take the podium and make his remarks. Her heart began to thunder in her chest. This was it, this was the future she fought so hard to forget, to erase, and now she couldn’t wait to bring it to pass.

Overhead, an announcement is made: “Welcome to the world stage, The President of The United Global States of America - Mr. Maxwell Harris!”

She froze. Max? It couldn’t be. 

He stepped out on the stage, but it wasn’t Max. It wasn’t the Max in the parking lot, it was someone else. Her head began to pound and she knew she was losing time. She bit her lip like always. She put her hands on her temples and tried to find her memory. This couldn’t be Max. Someone knew she was going to kill the President this year. She had no choice, she had to do it - for Brea. It would be like a walk in the park.

President Harris leaned into the podium mic, “Good evening, fellow global state citizens - I’m honored to be here with you tonight. Let me begin by —“ a shot went off and President Harris fell to the ground. 

Right behind him, stood Alana: gun in hand, as he lie in a pool of blood. Just as she always saw it. Max lay on the ground and their eyes met for a moment that seemed to stand still: “It’s good to see you again, Lana. I missed you.”” He said with his final breath.

The secret service took her down immediately. But suddenly, all but a handful of the agents began to turn against the others. From the side of her eyes, she saw the Maxwell Harris from the parking lot, the one who reminded her of something that felt real, maybe something she wanted to feel real. He grinned darkly and began to step forward to the podium.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” He said. “You are hereby under new rule, by order of United States Reclamation Agency. I am your acting Global Leader,” He looked back at Alana, who was handcuffed and dying, “You can call me President Powell.”

—