Two

It was the shots that led to the downfall of the internet, of media, of almost all broad-audience communications.

It also destroyed the Jack's persona: the laughing, folksy Midwesterner who could plant a field in the morning, win a debate in the afternoon, and still have time to sit down with his family for a barbeque.

The shots were leaked two months after the painting of the White House, but it was only two weeks after that that the Jack turned the country into a police state.

They were a video of two men practicing free throws in a gymnasium. No one really knew why it was filmed, but there it was. Shot after shot, the two men laughed with each other as they sunk their throws.

And then there was this disturbance. The second man was distracted; the ball bounced off of the rim.

The audio became distorted with the noise of three gunshots. The camera dropped to the ground.

The Jack walked onto the screen, wiping the gun off. He slipped it into his pocket, glanced around, and straightened his tie. He walked off.

Two men came in, cleaning up the mess the Jack had left. They cleaned up the blood from both of the men, and presumably also from the cameraman. They picked up the bodies, and then the agent pocketed the camera. That was wear the footage ended. In the warm, cozy pocket of an associate to a murder.

Things changed.