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“English Only” Chapter 2: by John Halasz

From behind his desk at the FBL Headquarters, Director Jack Marshall had overseen his agents on the streets. He leaned forward in his leather seat, and among the thousands of video images which shone on the smooth white walls of the Headquarters, he focused on one; it was the man they had been looking for, wanted for felony charges of disseminating hundreds of thousands of foreign literature in as many as thirty different languages.

From his control booth, Jack ignored the constant clatter of computer voices, which were intended to help the agents process the vast volumes of data. Jack analyzed the various functions: Verbal Systems, Facial Recognition, Gate Walk Analysis, and X-ray Text Scanning. There was no need for the Verbal Systems because the suspect was neither speaking nor moving his mouth. The Facial Recognition and Gate Walk Analysis had already confirmed the identity of the suspect and nature of his crimes. Every facial feature had been scanned, measured, and processed into the enormous database, which held the information for the entire nation.

The face of the suspect was somewhat chiseled, and his walk was not the walk of someone indigenous to New York City; it registered in the FBL’s Gate Walk Analysis System: the distance of the stride in comparison to the speed; the placement of the feet as they touched the ground; the swagger of the hips. These signs, among others, were processed into the computer to give a remarkably accurate identification of the person being monitored.

As powerful as these technologies were, they were no match for a well-trained agent. As Jack had anticipated a moment later the computer voice chimed,

“Stature and gate match international language terrorist.

“Manually scan suspect,” commanded Jack. An instant later an alarm sounded in sector 29, and the agent assigned to this section radioed to Jack.

“Sir…”

“One step ahead of you. And how many times do I have to tell you not to rely
solely on the technology. You have to be alert at all times.”

“But sir.”

The radio went dead and Jack commanded his men on the ground, at the scene. “830,1,2, we have an L.V. (language violation) at the corner of fifth and Broadway.”

“Copy that sir.”

“Suspect is wearing olive-green pants, a baseball hat, and black Nike running sneakers. He is of Spanish descent and is to be charged as such. He is in possession of five items. Don’t blow this one guys, we’ve put too much into this. He’s number three on the list.”

“No worries, sir.”

From the control booth, Jack zoomed in on his agents and then the assailant, honing in his team. “Walk about ten more yards, turn left at McDonalds, and he is right there. I want him brought in alive.”

“Roger that.”

The commanding officer motioned for his men to spread out on either side of him, creating a triangle pattern.

In case he decided to run.

But it had not gone as planned. He had pulled out the books and the officers had mistaken it for a gun. His back facing the agents, he was thrust forward and the books sent flying in the air.

At the Headquarters, Jack ran his hand through his thinning hair before calling his girlfriend and image alteration specialist to alter reality, superimposing frames, overriding the system and erasing images prior to the moment of the shooting.

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