Mayoral Defensive Arts

Sean was lulled into a profound sleep due to the white noise machine being softly whispered through his pillow. Usually he went to bed late, kept up by countless meetings and video calls. The machine had become a lifeline at giving him a fighting chance at well-being.

CRACK! SMASH!

Sean was jolted awake. It came from the lower levels of the mayoral mansion. Beside him, Erin shifted and woke up with a sudden gasp. She shook him urgently.

"Sean, wake up!" she said in a frightened whisper in the darkness.

The only light in their bedroom was the soft green glow of algae panels. Now, after hearing the sharp and violent noise, the dim light seemed inadequate. The ambient hum of the city outside felt miles away. Their children slept soundly in the adjacent room, seemingly oblivious.

Sean opened his eyes and his senses went into overdrive. Years of discipline, political and otherwise, allowed him to mask surge of adrenaline. He placed a hand over Erin’s.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured softly even as he scanned the room for potential threats. "Probably just a power surge tripping something downstairs."

Even as he said it, he knew it sounded thin. There was no malfunction that could do something like that.

He swung his legs out of bed, his movements already energetic.

"Stay here," he ordered. "Lock the door behind me. I'll go check it out."

"Sean, no," Erin protested, clutching his arm tighter. "Call security..."

"Just a precaution," he interrupted gently, pulling himself away from her. "I'll be right back."

He gave her a look of sympathy, but his mind was already racing with what he might find downstairs. The safety of his family, sleeping just a few feet away, sharpened his focus.

He slipped out of the bedroom and heard the soft click of the magnetic lock engaging behind him. Now he could face whatever had broken the peace of his home. He tiptoed towards the staircase.

From his perch, he saw the figure. In the soft light downstairs, he could make out a few features: youngish, maybe early twenties, and full of a tense, aggressive energy. He wore mismatched leathers and his eyes, wide and reflecting the algae light, nervously darted around the atrium. He definitely looked cornered. In his hands was a heavy blunt object like a weapon.

"Hold it right there," Sean’s voice was low but carried the authority he usually reserved for council chambers.

The young man flinched and spun towards the voice. He lifted the weapon in the air.

"Stay back! I know what you're doing, mayor!" he shouted in gravelly voice, cracking with paranoia. "You think we don't see? The signals! Embedded in the light! In the water! Making us change... and compliant!"

"Son, nobody is sending signals," Sean said, trying to keep his tone even. He raised his hands and slowly descended the stairs. The last thing he wanted to do was seem like a threat and endanger his family.

He recognized the deep-seated paranoia, likely exacerbated by psychological distress. This wasn't a rational protester, but a desperate man suffering from delusions.

"Lies!" the intruder spat, gesturing wildly with his blunt object towards the bioluminescent panels. "It's the algae! The biotech companies are controlling us! You and the others, the ones who are truly running things and consuming us! You're turning our homes into farms!"

He took a menacing step forward as his grip tightened on the heavy tool.

"I won't let you! I'll disconnect it all! Free everyone!"

This wasn't yet a direct threat to Sean, but his erratic movements and the wild look in his eyes placed him in danger. Worse yet, the staircase was a direct path towards his family. The conspiratorial rambling only highlighted his detachment from reality.

The young man then let out a raw, guttural screech and lunged forward; not at Sean but with a wild swing aimed at the algae control interface. He seemed intent on smashing it.

The lunge triggered a conditioned response in Sean. In a microsecond, the politician vanished. It was like a switch flipped behind his eyes. His posture shifted as years of subliminal neuro-conditioning surged to the forefront. Raw instinct and hyper-efficient training took control.

Sean shot forward as the heavy tool whistled through the air. His hand intercepted the descending arm. It wasn't a crude block. He caught the attacker's wrist and twisted it slightly. He used the young man's own momentum to send the blunt weapon flying and it clattered harmlessly against the bottom of the staircase.

The sudden loss of his weapon and the unexpected contact threw the attacker completely off-balance. Before he could recover his footing, Sean approached. The young man tried a clumsy, panicked shrug but it was futile.

Sean moved in a blur. A flurry of short, sharp blows hammered into the attack's side and upper body with precision. One open-handed strike caught him hard below the ribs, forcing the air from his lungs in a choked gasp. With a targeted strike to the spot where his neck met his shoulder, the young man's arm went numb.

He fought back with a loose swing, but Sean leaned out of the way without losing his balance.

The boy was overwhelmed by a speed he didn't expect.

Sean drove a final, calculated palm strike squarely into his sternum. His goal was to knock out the intruder without dealing any permanent blow.

Instantly, the young man's eyes rolled back. His legs buckled as if his strings had been cut. He lost all coordination, collapsing hard onto the floor and hitting his head. He became unconscious even before he landed.

The entire exchange, from the initial lunge to the final take-down, had lasted maybe six or seven seconds of action at most. Now he stood over the body as he heard sirens growing louder.

There was a sharp pain in his forehead as he regained conscious thought. He looked down at his hands, which still ached from the punches he just landed. He flexed them slowly.

Then he heard someone gasp.

His head snapped upward. Standing on the upstairs landing, barely visible in the hallway, was Erin. Her hand was pressed tightly against her mouth. She didn't stay hidden. She must've unlocked the door and crept out. She just saw her usually measured husband take down an intruder with uncharacteristic brutality.

He felt a weakness rush through his entire body. He staggered forward. The adrenaline was gone now.

Moments later, his internal security detail entered with weapons drawn. Following behind were the city police and Chief Motoichi. Motoichi took in the scene: a medical drone inspecting the downed attacker, the minimal damage, the Mayor standing near the central column and the mayor's wife watching from above with a pale, shaken face.

"I got your code black, sir," Motoichi said, keeping his voice low.

He discreetly looked up at Erin, then back at Sean.

"Seems like you handled the situation. Impressive application of that neuro-conditioning."

Sean could only nod while his eyes were fixed on Erin. Her eyes locked with his, searching for answers.

"She's okay," Sean managed in a hoarse voice. "We're both okay. He was being erratic."

"We'll take it from here," Motoichi said, giving a curt nod towards Erin before signaling his officers to make the arrest. They secured the barely conscious attacker with magnetically locked cuffs and escorted him out.

Chief Motoichi lingered only a moment longer.

"Get some rest, Sean. You too, Ma'am."

He then turned and left, leaving the couple amidst the sudden quiet of the atrium.

Sean slowly looked back at the spot where the attacker had fallen, then up at his wife. The city continued humming outside, oblivious to what had happened. The children were safe upstairs. Yet the night's violence had done more than breach the mansion's security; it had breached their relationship's boundaries.

The synaptic reflex had protected his family, but now the more complex part of the night was just beginning. He had explanations to make.