Flirting with Disaster

2

      Its a warm morning as the sun shines on my face. To my right, two children climb on a thin tree. The little brown haired girl uses the small blonde haired boy's shoulders to grab a branch and swing herself up. The little boy groans at her weight and follows close behind. I turn to the parking lot on my left and look for Luis's car. His 2012 classic Mercedes Benz is spotless with barely any upgrades. Its black body resembles the original design with only a few extra bumps and jcurves. I grab the end of my shirt and bend over beside the small fingerprint pad on the handle of the car. I blow a steady stream of warm air onto the pad and the fingerprint starts to reveal itself. I quickly put my shirt covered thumb onto the pad and the car unlocks. I look around quickly and find no one around me. I slide into the car which is already turned on. The engine starts on its own and I put on gloves and start driving.
      My name is Tueur Durand. The name is French and so are my parents. Most of my family is from Germany, where my great great grandparents started our family business. It all started back in the 1950s when a lot of Germany's smaller family owned buisnesses got picked on by other bigger companies. Those family owned buisnesses would call up our family and have us take care of their problems. After that, our family name became known as The Hitmen. Anytime you heard the name Durand, you knew something was up. We were the saviors of weaker people, the ones who couldn't stand up for themselves. We started spreading throughout Europe and soon enough throughout the world. Helping anyone who had the right amount of money on their hands. Everything was going well until the 2020's started to roll around. By this time, America started to make machines that could tell the probability of a person committing a crime. These machines started to wipe us out. Very few of us made it to the shadows where we hid until we could regain our strength. This new technology was something no one had ever seen before. By the time I was born, we started to find loop holes in the system. Small areas where we could trick the system into believing that we were good citzens ready to contribute to the newly corrupted society.
      I slowly come to a hault at a street light. A police car rolls up next to me. His squad car is filled with wires and technology that I recognize from previous break ins I've committed. The police officer turns toward me and glares at my curious eyes. I turn forward and stare at the red light in front of me. As it turns green, I take one last look at the man next to me only to find he isn't there. His squad car has sped off in front of mine and I soon follow in his footsteps. 
      The Machines took the place of police officers and community service workers. Crime was cut down by eighty percent which meant that there was really nothing more for police officers to do. Making a job for themselves, police officers started to commit their own crime.  They always got away with it too. No one thinks to run police officers through The Machines because they are the people who are supposed to be saving us from the crime. The only organization that didn't fall into the false safety of The Machines was the CIA. They were often ridiculed by the public if they tried to put an officer away to jail. Even if all the evidence against him, America's belief in The Machines was strong so if The Machines said that he didn't commit a crime then he was innocent, and because the police made the algorithm to The Machines, they could easily change it. By now, the crime commiters were untouchable and The Machines were the Gods.
     Another stoplight is coming up and the light turns yellow. I press on my brake but the police car in front of me speeds up. The light turns red and I press on my brake harder. The police car doesn't stop or slow. He runs right through without hesitation. I sigh and bring my vehicle to a stop.
     Other countries noticed the positive reaction towards The Machines and started to buy them off of America. America was able to use this advantage over the other countries to pay off debts and apprehend more land and other natural resources that they lacked. America became the most powerful country by 2045.
     Under all the supporters of The Machines, there was always people who disagreed with new ways of society. My grandparents generation gathered in France, the country with the most Anti-Machinists, with other Anti-Machinists. This was where a new plan was formed to take down The Machines. Word had begun to spread and other Anti-Machinists gathered to help execute this plan. I was born June 2, 2066, just about when this plan, known as Project A, was put into action. America soon started to become more suspicious of its citizens malice intentions, so Project A supporters started to meet up only once a year for two weeks. America's suspicions didn't subside and on December 18, 2074, when I was eight, a bomb went off in the facility and triggered a chain reaction of explosions from the natural gas pipeline underneath the building. The explosion killed everyone in the building including my parents and most of my family.
     I roll up to a coffee shop that doesn't seem too busy and park next to it. Next to the steering wheel is a small button that shows an icon of a window that is half lit up blue and the other half that is black. I press it and a shade of dark gray rolls up over the windows. With the tint on, I reach in my backpack next to me to pull out my computer. I type in a few things to pull a redirecter. This will help triangulate my calls so if the police want to know who or where the call was made, its nesrly impossible to find out. It sends my call through at least 130 different cell towers around the world. After setting that up, I reach into my backpack once more for my headset that will disguise my voice in a lower pitch but not one that sounds irregular. I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial 911. Instead of pressing the green call button, I press the middle button on the headset on my ear. The dialtone plays in my ear until I hear a voice on the other end.
     "911, what's your emergency?"
Remembering to put panick in my voice, I speak, "Oh my gosh please help! My boyfriend- h-hes dead I
think." I sob for a bit.
    "Okay ma'am I need you to calm down and take a breath. Can u tell me the address?"
    I sniffle a bit and tell her the address. After crying for another five minutes and telling her information about Luis, she finally states that the ambulance is on their way and not to hang up the phone.
     I hang up and turn off the phone.