Fragile Truth and Tragic Freedom 3/?
Title: Fragile Truth and Tragic Freedom 3/?
Series: TDS, TCR, Countdown w/ KO.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, Violence
Disclaimer: I do not own Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow, or any known political figures who appear in this story.
Summary: Keith-centric AU- Ages and backgrounds have been totally messed with. With the rise of a dictatorship regime in America, comes the rise of rebels. This is the story of the rebel group in New York City, fighting to bring the truth to the people and return their freedom.
Author's Note: Please comment. Feedback is good.
One
Two
Chapter 3
Keith, Jon, and Stephen parked their motorcycles in an alley at the edge of New York City’s
metropolitan area and covered them with black tarps. Jon and Stephen started on their way to the middle of the parade route. Keith made his way to the Enron headquarters.
Keith already knew the best way to enter the building undetected. Cooper had provided them with the floorplans. Keith adjusted the straps on his backpack to make fit it tighter. He walked around the corporation building until he found an aboveground basement window. He checked to make sure no one was watching, and with everyone crowded along the parade route, no one was around. He heard the faint music of a marching band, blocks away at the start of the parade route.
Keith opened the basement window and shimmied through, dropping the eight foot distance from the window to the floor. He glanced at the stacks of office around him and guessed he was in the supply center. Once he got out of that area, he found a directory hanging on the wall. With a building this enormous, even the basement needed a directory.
Keith followed the arrows to the Detention Center. There was only one door, and it read ‘Observation.’ “Observation of what?” Keith asked himself, reaching for the door handle.
When the door refused to open, Keith took out a hairpin and picked the lock. When he did get the door open, the first thing he noticed in the observation room was the large window. Keith looked through the window down to the scene ten feet below.
A balding heavyset man attached some wires to the wrists of the blindfolded woman strapped to the operating table. The woman was wearing only a bra and underwear, and shivered at the chill of the basement.
“No, please, not that,” she whimpered, thrashing to get free of the straps that held her down.
The re-educator ran his hand down Rachel’s bare abdomen. Keith’s fists clenched at the vile contact. Keith heard the heavy-set man say through the speakers, “Rachel, this is your last chance to make this easier on yourself.”
“I told you, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Rachel Maddow denied. She turned her face away when the man caressed her cheek.
The re-educator backhanded her across the face. “I might as well tell you this now. Tonight, you’re being taken to Staten Island. The re-educators there aren’t as nice as I am. Now, your stay at Staten Island will be shorter and more pleasant if you cooperate with me.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Rachel, the first step to re-education is admitting that what you did was wrong.”
“I have nothing to admit. I have nothing to confess.”
“This is your last chance,” the heavyset man said. Then he bent down and whispered something in Rachel’s ear that wasn’t picked up by the audio surveillance.
Rachel’s response was violently thrashing. “Don’t you touch me!” she yelled. “Not again.” Her protest was instantly followed by a scream as the wires on her wrists sent electric currents into her body.
Keith had seen enough. He quickly located the door to the torture chamber and kicked it down. He bounded down the stairs and, before the re-educator could say a word, knocked him out with a strike to the jaw. Keith saw the nametag on the man that read ‘Limbaugh.’
“Who’s there? Wh-what’s going on?” Rachel breathed heavily in anticipation for something bad to happen.
“I’m getting you out of here,” Keith answered, disconnecting the wires from her wrist and tearing the restraints off her arms and legs. With her hands free, Rachel took off the blindfold and shakily sat up.
Keith did a quick examination of Rachel. Blood-shot eyes, intense trembling, and heavy panting indicated lack of sleep, food, and water. He also made note of the hand-shaped bruises on her hips.
Keith took Stephen’s clothes from his backpack and gave them to Rachel. “Put these on. You’ll have to deal without shoes,” he instructed and turned around to give her some privacy.
“I’m dressed,” said Rachel a minute later.
Keith turned to her. “We’re probably going to have to run. Can you do that?” At Rachel’s nod, Keith said, “Good. Let’s-“
An alarm blared. Keith grabbed Rachel’s hand and started running. She was a little slow for the first moment, but soon pushed past her fatigue. They had gotten halfway to the window Keith had used to enter the basement when they were blocked by three security guards.
Without stopping, Keith and Rachel cut to the left, to the stairs that would lead them out of the basement and to the first floor. More guards appeared and gave chase. Keith took note of the floor the elevator was on as they raced past it to the stairs.
“Why are we going up?” Rachel huffed as they sprinted up the stairs.
“I’ve got a plan,” was Keith’s simple answer.
The guards hurried after them. At floor eleven, Keith and Rachel exited the stairs and went to the waiting elevator. Keith went inside, pressed the button for the top floor, and backed out before the doors could close.
Keith and Rachel sprinted to the other side of the building to the other stairwell. The two guards in this one were already another three floors up. The two escapees hurried back down and emerged on the third floor. Keith knew the guards would have left some forces on the first floor.
Keith glanced around through the windows of the empty office space.
“What are you looking for?” Rachel panted.
“Street post.”
It took Rachel a second to find a street lamp post. “There,” she said, pointing out a window.
Keith shrugged off his empty backpack and told Rachel to put it on. “No questions right now,” he added as she did what he said.
Keith hurried over to the window, picked up a chair, and shattered the floor-to-ceiling glass.
“We’re going to jump from a third-floor window? Are you crazy?”
Keith turned. “Rachel, do you trust me?”
“What?”
“Things may get crazier. Do you trust me?”
With only a second’s hesitation, Rachel nodded her head. Keith gestured for her to get on his back. Avoiding the glass shards on the floor, she jumped onto him and tightly wrapped her limbs around him. He didn’t seem at all put off by her weight after a slight adjustment.
Keith took a few steps back and did a running start before leaping out the window. They cleared the distance from the window to the street post. Keith grabbed the pole and slid down. The instant they were on the ground, Rachel got off his back.
Keith and Rachel ran the few blocks into the crowd at the parade route. They saw a policeman sitting on his idle motorcycle nearby, and the Enron guards starting to search through the crowd. “Jon, Stephen, now would be a good time to do something,” Keith muttered.
A moment later, as the first parade float passed by, there was a small explosion. Keith didn’t see where the explosion came from, but he did hear the tires of the second float screech before it plowed into the back of the first one.
Half the Enron guards and the policeman immediately responded to the ‘accident.’ Keith pulled Rachel after him to the abandoned motorcycle. Keith got on and started the engine. Rachel hopped on behind him and tightly held on around his waist.
“Hey! Stop those two!” one of the Enron guards shouted.
As soon as it was safe to, Keith revved the engine to full speed.
“Where to now?” Rachel asked in his ear after they cleared the parade route and crowd of people.
“They’re not going to give up that easily,” Keith replied as they sped down the mostly empty streets. As if on cue, the sirens from a whole squad of motorcycles blared a couple of blocks behind them.
Keith led the police on a high-speed chase through the city, not slowing down for anything. He made sharp turns at just the right moments to avoid crashing or skidding into anything. The police were more reserved with their speed, especially on turns, which gave Keith and Rachel a good lead on them.
Despite his recklessness, Keith was completely focused, he knew where he was going, and ignored Rachel’s question on that issue.
The concrete of the streets turned to the extensive wooden docks of the bay’s edge. Keith didn’t turn away from the luxurious yacht bobbing on the water in front of them.
Rachel’s protest was cut short when the motorcycle made the short jump from the dock to the yacht. It landed hard, slid on the smooth surface, and feel onto its side.
Keith and Rachel feel of and slid to a stop after a few feet. The speed of the police vehicle kept it going until it crashed through the back end of the boat and into the water.
Keith quickly got up and helped Rachel to her feet. He explained what they would do next.
Hand-in-hand, they ran to the yacht’s side and leaped the big gap to the next boat. If Rachel had been shorter, she wouldn’t have been able to make it. They touched down and kept
running.
After leaping the third gap onto a large fishing boat, Keith opened a trapdoor that led to the freezer and lowered Rachel down. The buzzing of approaching motorcycles stopped and faintly-heard yelling began as Keith lowered himself into the freezer.
The freezer, in addition to reeking of fish, was colder than Keith had expected. Rachel was hopping from foot-to-foot to minimize the contact between her bare feet and the cold floor. The exhales of the two escapees formed little clouds of frost.
Keith picked the shivering Rachel up in his arms. She hooked her ankles behind his back and looped her arms around his neck. She breathed cool air onto his neck as she tried to huddle as close to him as possible. Keith apologized, “Sorry it’s so cold.”
“… okay…” Rachel managed to say through her chattering teeth and panting breath.
Keith had stopped for two reasons. One was to hide from the police, who would have seen them if they kept running. The other was to let Rachel rest. She had held up very well so far, but he could tell the escape with the lack of food and sleep had drained her. The problem now was, with the cold temperature, rest was a dangerous thing. “Rachel,” he quietly addressed.
“Yeah?”
“You can’t go to sleep. It’s too cold.”
“Okay.”
Keith rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, listening for the retreat of motorcycles. Every time Rachel would relax too much against him, he would gently shake her awake.
They spent twenty minutes like that, Keith never slackening his hold on her, and Rachel trying to hold off the inviting call of sleep. At the dissipating roar of the police motorcycles, Keith prompted Rachel back to full awareness. He pushed her up onto the deck of the fishing boat and followed after.
They allowed themselves a couple minutes to warm up their aching muscles before jumping onto the dock and jogging back into the city. Any time they saw a person, they would hide until the person had passed by. They made it to where Keith, Jon, and Stephen’s motorcycles were hidden in this fashion.
This motorcycle ride was a lot less hectic and dangerous then the first one. Keith smiled when Rachel relaxed forward against his back. “Don’t go to sleep yet,” advised Keith. “There’s a bed waiting for you.”
“Big, with pillows and blankets?” replied Rachel’s tired voice.
“As many pillows and blankets as you want.” Keith felt the vibrations of Rachel’s lips on
his back as she hummed her response.
In twenty minutes, Keith parked the motorcycle in front of the house he shared with Jon and Stephen. He led Rachel inside and to the fourth bedroom that wasn’t regularly used.
Rachel sat on the side of the full-sized bed. Keith asked, “What do you want first? Sleep, food, or shower?”
“Sleep, definitely.”
Keith nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He went to Stephen’s room and got a pair of long flannel pants and a soft blue t-shirt.
Rachel had taken off the backpack when Keith returned. “Why did you have me wear an empty backpack?” she asked.
“It’s not empty. I attached a bulletproof Kevlar lining inside,” Keith answered, handing her the pajamas. He left the room and closed the door. He waited until Rachel said she was finished getting changed before going back in.
“I know we were busy escaping, but I forgot to ask you your name,” Rachel said.
Keith couldn’t help but think about how adorable Rachel Maddow looked in the pajamas, sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” Rachel inquired.
“Sorry. I’m Keith. You’ll understand why I can’t tell you my surname.”
Rachel nodded and snuggled underneath the “Thank you, Keith.”
“You’re welcome,” Keith replied, turning off the light.
“Wait, Keith,” Rachel called.
“Yes?”
“This is going to sound ridiculous, considering all you’ve done for me today.”
“Rachel, the fear the Regime forces us to live with is ridiculous enough.”
“Could you… could you stay with me? Until I fall asleep?” Rachel nervously asked. “It doesn’t have to be intimate, or anything.”
In answer, Keith went to the unoccupied side of the bed, kicked off his shoes, and laid down. He turned onto his side to face Rachel. “Is this fine?”
Rachel yawned and nodded. “Thank you, again, Keith.”
“No problem. Good-night, Rachel.”
Series: TDS, TCR, Countdown w/ KO.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, Violence
Disclaimer: I do not own Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, Keith Olbermann, Rachel Maddow, or any known political figures who appear in this story.
Summary: Keith-centric AU- Ages and backgrounds have been totally messed with. With the rise of a dictatorship regime in America, comes the rise of rebels. This is the story of the rebel group in New York City, fighting to bring the truth to the people and return their freedom.
Author's Note: Please comment. Feedback is good.
One
Two
Chapter 3
Keith, Jon, and Stephen parked their motorcycles in an alley at the edge of New York City’s
metropolitan area and covered them with black tarps. Jon and Stephen started on their way to the middle of the parade route. Keith made his way to the Enron headquarters.
Keith already knew the best way to enter the building undetected. Cooper had provided them with the floorplans. Keith adjusted the straps on his backpack to make fit it tighter. He walked around the corporation building until he found an aboveground basement window. He checked to make sure no one was watching, and with everyone crowded along the parade route, no one was around. He heard the faint music of a marching band, blocks away at the start of the parade route.
Keith opened the basement window and shimmied through, dropping the eight foot distance from the window to the floor. He glanced at the stacks of office around him and guessed he was in the supply center. Once he got out of that area, he found a directory hanging on the wall. With a building this enormous, even the basement needed a directory.
Keith followed the arrows to the Detention Center. There was only one door, and it read ‘Observation.’ “Observation of what?” Keith asked himself, reaching for the door handle.
When the door refused to open, Keith took out a hairpin and picked the lock. When he did get the door open, the first thing he noticed in the observation room was the large window. Keith looked through the window down to the scene ten feet below.
A balding heavyset man attached some wires to the wrists of the blindfolded woman strapped to the operating table. The woman was wearing only a bra and underwear, and shivered at the chill of the basement.
“No, please, not that,” she whimpered, thrashing to get free of the straps that held her down.
The re-educator ran his hand down Rachel’s bare abdomen. Keith’s fists clenched at the vile contact. Keith heard the heavy-set man say through the speakers, “Rachel, this is your last chance to make this easier on yourself.”
“I told you, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Rachel Maddow denied. She turned her face away when the man caressed her cheek.
The re-educator backhanded her across the face. “I might as well tell you this now. Tonight, you’re being taken to Staten Island. The re-educators there aren’t as nice as I am. Now, your stay at Staten Island will be shorter and more pleasant if you cooperate with me.”
“I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Rachel, the first step to re-education is admitting that what you did was wrong.”
“I have nothing to admit. I have nothing to confess.”
“This is your last chance,” the heavyset man said. Then he bent down and whispered something in Rachel’s ear that wasn’t picked up by the audio surveillance.
Rachel’s response was violently thrashing. “Don’t you touch me!” she yelled. “Not again.” Her protest was instantly followed by a scream as the wires on her wrists sent electric currents into her body.
Keith had seen enough. He quickly located the door to the torture chamber and kicked it down. He bounded down the stairs and, before the re-educator could say a word, knocked him out with a strike to the jaw. Keith saw the nametag on the man that read ‘Limbaugh.’
“Who’s there? Wh-what’s going on?” Rachel breathed heavily in anticipation for something bad to happen.
“I’m getting you out of here,” Keith answered, disconnecting the wires from her wrist and tearing the restraints off her arms and legs. With her hands free, Rachel took off the blindfold and shakily sat up.
Keith did a quick examination of Rachel. Blood-shot eyes, intense trembling, and heavy panting indicated lack of sleep, food, and water. He also made note of the hand-shaped bruises on her hips.
Keith took Stephen’s clothes from his backpack and gave them to Rachel. “Put these on. You’ll have to deal without shoes,” he instructed and turned around to give her some privacy.
“I’m dressed,” said Rachel a minute later.
Keith turned to her. “We’re probably going to have to run. Can you do that?” At Rachel’s nod, Keith said, “Good. Let’s-“
An alarm blared. Keith grabbed Rachel’s hand and started running. She was a little slow for the first moment, but soon pushed past her fatigue. They had gotten halfway to the window Keith had used to enter the basement when they were blocked by three security guards.
Without stopping, Keith and Rachel cut to the left, to the stairs that would lead them out of the basement and to the first floor. More guards appeared and gave chase. Keith took note of the floor the elevator was on as they raced past it to the stairs.
“Why are we going up?” Rachel huffed as they sprinted up the stairs.
“I’ve got a plan,” was Keith’s simple answer.
The guards hurried after them. At floor eleven, Keith and Rachel exited the stairs and went to the waiting elevator. Keith went inside, pressed the button for the top floor, and backed out before the doors could close.
Keith and Rachel sprinted to the other side of the building to the other stairwell. The two guards in this one were already another three floors up. The two escapees hurried back down and emerged on the third floor. Keith knew the guards would have left some forces on the first floor.
Keith glanced around through the windows of the empty office space.
“What are you looking for?” Rachel panted.
“Street post.”
It took Rachel a second to find a street lamp post. “There,” she said, pointing out a window.
Keith shrugged off his empty backpack and told Rachel to put it on. “No questions right now,” he added as she did what he said.
Keith hurried over to the window, picked up a chair, and shattered the floor-to-ceiling glass.
“We’re going to jump from a third-floor window? Are you crazy?”
Keith turned. “Rachel, do you trust me?”
“What?”
“Things may get crazier. Do you trust me?”
With only a second’s hesitation, Rachel nodded her head. Keith gestured for her to get on his back. Avoiding the glass shards on the floor, she jumped onto him and tightly wrapped her limbs around him. He didn’t seem at all put off by her weight after a slight adjustment.
Keith took a few steps back and did a running start before leaping out the window. They cleared the distance from the window to the street post. Keith grabbed the pole and slid down. The instant they were on the ground, Rachel got off his back.
Keith and Rachel ran the few blocks into the crowd at the parade route. They saw a policeman sitting on his idle motorcycle nearby, and the Enron guards starting to search through the crowd. “Jon, Stephen, now would be a good time to do something,” Keith muttered.
A moment later, as the first parade float passed by, there was a small explosion. Keith didn’t see where the explosion came from, but he did hear the tires of the second float screech before it plowed into the back of the first one.
Half the Enron guards and the policeman immediately responded to the ‘accident.’ Keith pulled Rachel after him to the abandoned motorcycle. Keith got on and started the engine. Rachel hopped on behind him and tightly held on around his waist.
“Hey! Stop those two!” one of the Enron guards shouted.
As soon as it was safe to, Keith revved the engine to full speed.
“Where to now?” Rachel asked in his ear after they cleared the parade route and crowd of people.
“They’re not going to give up that easily,” Keith replied as they sped down the mostly empty streets. As if on cue, the sirens from a whole squad of motorcycles blared a couple of blocks behind them.
Keith led the police on a high-speed chase through the city, not slowing down for anything. He made sharp turns at just the right moments to avoid crashing or skidding into anything. The police were more reserved with their speed, especially on turns, which gave Keith and Rachel a good lead on them.
Despite his recklessness, Keith was completely focused, he knew where he was going, and ignored Rachel’s question on that issue.
The concrete of the streets turned to the extensive wooden docks of the bay’s edge. Keith didn’t turn away from the luxurious yacht bobbing on the water in front of them.
Rachel’s protest was cut short when the motorcycle made the short jump from the dock to the yacht. It landed hard, slid on the smooth surface, and feel onto its side.
Keith and Rachel feel of and slid to a stop after a few feet. The speed of the police vehicle kept it going until it crashed through the back end of the boat and into the water.
Keith quickly got up and helped Rachel to her feet. He explained what they would do next.
Hand-in-hand, they ran to the yacht’s side and leaped the big gap to the next boat. If Rachel had been shorter, she wouldn’t have been able to make it. They touched down and kept
running.
After leaping the third gap onto a large fishing boat, Keith opened a trapdoor that led to the freezer and lowered Rachel down. The buzzing of approaching motorcycles stopped and faintly-heard yelling began as Keith lowered himself into the freezer.
The freezer, in addition to reeking of fish, was colder than Keith had expected. Rachel was hopping from foot-to-foot to minimize the contact between her bare feet and the cold floor. The exhales of the two escapees formed little clouds of frost.
Keith picked the shivering Rachel up in his arms. She hooked her ankles behind his back and looped her arms around his neck. She breathed cool air onto his neck as she tried to huddle as close to him as possible. Keith apologized, “Sorry it’s so cold.”
“… okay…” Rachel managed to say through her chattering teeth and panting breath.
Keith had stopped for two reasons. One was to hide from the police, who would have seen them if they kept running. The other was to let Rachel rest. She had held up very well so far, but he could tell the escape with the lack of food and sleep had drained her. The problem now was, with the cold temperature, rest was a dangerous thing. “Rachel,” he quietly addressed.
“Yeah?”
“You can’t go to sleep. It’s too cold.”
“Okay.”
Keith rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes, listening for the retreat of motorcycles. Every time Rachel would relax too much against him, he would gently shake her awake.
They spent twenty minutes like that, Keith never slackening his hold on her, and Rachel trying to hold off the inviting call of sleep. At the dissipating roar of the police motorcycles, Keith prompted Rachel back to full awareness. He pushed her up onto the deck of the fishing boat and followed after.
They allowed themselves a couple minutes to warm up their aching muscles before jumping onto the dock and jogging back into the city. Any time they saw a person, they would hide until the person had passed by. They made it to where Keith, Jon, and Stephen’s motorcycles were hidden in this fashion.
This motorcycle ride was a lot less hectic and dangerous then the first one. Keith smiled when Rachel relaxed forward against his back. “Don’t go to sleep yet,” advised Keith. “There’s a bed waiting for you.”
“Big, with pillows and blankets?” replied Rachel’s tired voice.
“As many pillows and blankets as you want.” Keith felt the vibrations of Rachel’s lips on
his back as she hummed her response.
In twenty minutes, Keith parked the motorcycle in front of the house he shared with Jon and Stephen. He led Rachel inside and to the fourth bedroom that wasn’t regularly used.
Rachel sat on the side of the full-sized bed. Keith asked, “What do you want first? Sleep, food, or shower?”
“Sleep, definitely.”
Keith nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He went to Stephen’s room and got a pair of long flannel pants and a soft blue t-shirt.
Rachel had taken off the backpack when Keith returned. “Why did you have me wear an empty backpack?” she asked.
“It’s not empty. I attached a bulletproof Kevlar lining inside,” Keith answered, handing her the pajamas. He left the room and closed the door. He waited until Rachel said she was finished getting changed before going back in.
“I know we were busy escaping, but I forgot to ask you your name,” Rachel said.
Keith couldn’t help but think about how adorable Rachel Maddow looked in the pajamas, sitting cross-legged on the bed.
“Are you going to tell me your name?” Rachel inquired.
“Sorry. I’m Keith. You’ll understand why I can’t tell you my surname.”
Rachel nodded and snuggled underneath the “Thank you, Keith.”
“You’re welcome,” Keith replied, turning off the light.
“Wait, Keith,” Rachel called.
“Yes?”
“This is going to sound ridiculous, considering all you’ve done for me today.”
“Rachel, the fear the Regime forces us to live with is ridiculous enough.”
“Could you… could you stay with me? Until I fall asleep?” Rachel nervously asked. “It doesn’t have to be intimate, or anything.”
In answer, Keith went to the unoccupied side of the bed, kicked off his shoes, and laid down. He turned onto his side to face Rachel. “Is this fine?”
Rachel yawned and nodded. “Thank you, again, Keith.”
“No problem. Good-night, Rachel.”