Prelude

09/07/1966
Haven House
For Elderly People

‘Albert Cutler ran over the details in his mind of ‘his’ assassination plot to shoot one of the most powerful targets in history of our humble organisation to date,’ Dr. Darcy Cowling ran over this sentence in his mind. Unoriginal and clichéd, the doctor was nonetheless proud of his work. He had been writing history for most of his adult life, a cliché or two while he chronicled it hardly seemed to matter.

Dr. Cowling was in a small elderly home chain that was very exclusive. The owners insisted on every member going through a rigorous psychology test to make sure ‘everyone was compatible.’ The fees were so high for such measly service anyway that nobody seemed to mind, as nobody wanted to go there. Albert Cutler was one of the one of the main writers and he pursued his hobby with passion day in, day out.

Pitying once again the end he chose for his books once he died, Dr. Cowling picked up his quill (nothing was as satisfying for him as chronicling in style) and began to write once more:
‘As he was on his way to the Dealey Plaza, he convinced himself that the plan was flawless. It wasn’t the first time The Business had assassinated an American president, however they were still pretty poor efforts considering the capability of The Business now, and procedures should have improved since 1881.

Of course, Albert Cutler only saw an associate that wanted to bring president Kennedy down, so they might just have the FBI or Mafia on their side to muck things up. Or it could have been an eccentric billionaire who had strong beliefs about politics. It didn’t really matter to Albert who had no cares for politics, if there was anything he needed to know, it would be given to him in his mission briefing.

So Albert got into position, and took the real, actual shot. A pawn (or indeed, a patsy to put it in his own words) by the name of Lee Harvey Oswald took the first shot, which was followed up by Albert’s. Lee had no idea about a second shot. Lee had no idea about Albert. Lee really did have no idea about the organisation that just made him take that shot and ruin his life.’

* * * *

‘Got him,’ thought Cutler, ‘of course.’ Cutler looked over to the window from where the poor pawn was. Cutler was proud to be one of the few ‘in the know,’ although admittedly deep down inside he knew he was been used just as much as the guy across the street.

Still, he liked been who he was and considered himself at least a Knight, or possibly even a Rook? He knew that the game was never so simple as that but he was allowed to dream just as he supposed everybody else did, right? Hope, desire, delusion… they were all powers the ‘bosses’ bestowed upon their subjects. Surely he was aloud his fair share.

A small girl however cut his musing short apparently oblivious to the noise, singing. He thought she must be deaf not to hear the commotion or, judging by her voice, she must think they’re playing a little game in her sugarcoated world.
‘Jesus loves me this I know,
for the bible tells me so,
Little ones to he belong,
They are weak but he is strong,
Yes, Jesus Loves me…’

He caught himself focusing on the little girl instead of the task at hand- getting out of here before whomever thinks they are in charge recover from their shock and find him.