––––––––
"What a glorious day to watch America burn."
"I'm sorry?" asked a reporter as she turned around. Her short stature and tight business suit made her look rather pudgy.
"It's a glorious day," Murdock said as he walked by her.
"Oh, yes, it is pretty nice out, isn't it?" she said, squinting into the clear spring sky.
He wondered how funny she was going to look trying to run in that suit. Only twenty reporters had shown up for the impromptu press conference Senator McArthur called. Most of them wondered why a senator, who generally kept as far away from the media as possible, summoned them to the steps of the Capitol building in Washington D.C. They chattered amongst themselves, constantly looking at their watches and tapping their feet, their impatience growing.
Murdock walked amid the reporters, but didn't have any equipment – not even a pen and paper. Despite the lack of gear, his medium height, build, and off-the-rack black suit made him indistinguishable from the other journalists. Dark features and black hair could have made him Italian, but most people would find it difficult to pinpoint his ethnicity. Blending in with the crowd was a specialty of his. Only when you looked in his eyes could someone see something amiss. Hate brewed inside of them.
Settling into the crowd, he took a deep breath, appreciating the smell of the season. It felt as if it had been forever since he last enjoyed the aroma of leafing trees and freshly cut grass. He closed his eyes and tilted his chin up as a slight breeze floated by his face. The iconic dome of the Capitol building, pearly white as it reflected the sun, stood out in stark contrast from the blue sky. Murdock had chosen the meeting place of Congress to light the first flames due to its legendary imagery.
Senator McArthur approached the crowd from behind and strode past them, angling toward the podium at the base of the stairs. His typical clean cut appearance was admired by fellow politicians, but today he looked like he'd slept on a park bench. His disheveled suit and grey hair were splotched with red stains. Pale, aged skin and bulging eyes gave the impression of a man who had suffered the worst shock, or loss, of his life.
McArthur's press secretary, a small but formidable woman, was working frantically on her Blackberry when she saw him approaching.
"Sir, what is this press conference about? Tommy said he didn't prepare any kind of speech for you and we've discussed how you don't do well with off the cuff inter—" The shock on her face when she fully took in his appearance was comical to Murdock. "Sir, you can't speak to the media like this! You look like a corpse." She cut herself off as she looked into his eyes. "Senator? What is it? What's happened?"
Without acknowledging her he stepped up to the podium and looked into the nearest TV camera. Questions exploded from the gaggle of reporters at once. Their impatience was forgotten, replaced by a thirst for an explanation of his bloodstained façade.
"Senator McArthur! Is that blood?"
"Were you mugged?"
"Why hold a press conference in this condition?"
They shouted over each other, trying to get their questions heard. The senator held up a hand, drying blood visible on the palm, to quiet them.
"I've done terrible things in my time as a U.S. Senator. People have been captured, tortured, and killed by my orders. We've abandoned our troops, allies, agents, and brothers to torment and murder. Our country and society have been acting without regard to consequences. Today that stops. Today is judgment day." A tear spilled over his pale cheek, cutting a line through splatters of blood. "Senator McArthur sat on a wall; Senator McArthur had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put McArthur back together again."
Everyone in attendance stared at him, confusion on their faces.
His body trembled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a snub-nosed .38 Special. Tears poured from his eyes while he raised it to his temple.
The crowd exploded with cries of fear and pleas for the senator to stop.
Bye-bye, Senator.
"Burn, baby, burn," Murdock and McArthur said in unison as he pulled the trigger.