California

by Jamie Lee Grey

  She didn’t offer to shake his dirty hand, but smiled at Katie. “I’m Anna. Thanks for stopping.”

  “No problem,” Katie said. “Were you calling a tow truck or something?”

  “I was calling my father. He is on his way.”

  Katie watched the vehicles crawling down the exit ramp. It could take forever for someone to get here, the way traffic was moving this afternoon.

  “Is he nearby?” She asked hopefully.

  “About ten miles.”

  Katie’s heart sank. Normally, that’d be no problem. But today? It could take hours!

  She glanced at Zach, whose expression turned grim. She wanted to wish the woman well, maybe offer her some money, and drive off. But there was no telling how long Anna would have to wait here, and she had kids in the car.

  No. They had to do the right thing.

  “Anna, it might take a while for your dad to get here. Would you like to bring your children to our RV? We have cold drinks and a bathroom.”

  Zach gave her the sweetest, proudest look. Anna nodded.

  “That would be good. Thank you.”

  “While you’re waiting, I think I’ll take the pickup and fill it up,” Zach said.

  Katie opened her mouth to protest. He was going to leave her and Timothy here? Now? What if they lost contact somehow?

  As usual, he read her thoughts – or her expression.

  “I’ll have the phone and the walkie talkie. You can reach me. And we’ll meet up at that burger joint right over there.” Zach pointed to a fast-food restaurant beyond the exit ramp, on the far side of the connecting street. “From there, we’ll be able to get right back on the freeway.”

  “I wish you’d wait here with us,” she said, catching his deep blue eyes.

  “You’ll be fine.” He leaned closer and spoke quietly. “I’m afraid the gas stations are going to be nuts. Better to get in line as soon as we can.”

  He was right, of course. Panicking people always fill their gas tanks.

  “Okay. But I don’t like this.” She handed Zach her keys as Anna got her children out of her car.

  “You can call or text if you need to.” Zach gave her a peck on the cheek. “I won’t be far.”

  As Katie lead Anna’s family to the RV, Zach walked to the pickup and climbed in. Katie ushered the children up the RV steps.

  “All aboard!” She held the door while everyone entered, then followed and opened the windows and ceiling vents because it was beginning to get warm inside.

  “Water? Lemonade? Cola?” She glanced at Anna as she opened the fridge.

  “Water would be fine.” Anna directed her children to sit at the dinette with Timothy. “Thank you for doing this.”

  “Sure.” Katie filled paper cups for the children and handed a glass to Anna. “Do you live around here?”

  “No. Los Angeles. We were coming to stay with my dad for a while.”

  “Oh.” Katie smiled. “Well, you almost made it. Ten more miles, right?”

  “Yes.” Anna’s expression was unreadable.

  Where was her children’s father? Katie glanced at Anna’s hands. A lighter-colored line wrapped around her finger where a wedding band would have been.

  Recently divorced, or breaking up?

  She didn’t want to pry into the lady’s personal life.

  “If anyone needs to use it, we do have a restroom here.” Katie pointed to the door.

  “I think we are all fine, thank you.” Anna leaned back against the kitchen counter and met Katie’s eyes. “It’s kind of you to wait with us.”

  Katie waved it off as nothing. “Of course.”

  She glanced out the windshield at the traffic, the exit lane, the burger joint where she was supposed to re-connect with Zach. She sighed.

  The sooner, the better.

  ***

  A knock sounded at the door of Alana’s suite.

  “Come in!”

  No one would be on this floor unless they were already vetted by Secret Service, who also guarded the hallway.

  Jason Lannigan, her chief of staff, entered with Mae Hepburn, her national security advisor. Alana greeted them with a tense smile.

  “Thanks for coming. I trust you’re both up to speed on the fire situation?”

  “Of course,” Jason responded, raking a pudgy hand through his straight black hair.

  Mae approached, studying Alana with keen green eyes. “We may not use the words with the public, but this is a terrorist attack. A serious one. It’s planned, it’s organized, it’s effective.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” Alana pointed to the wet bar. “Juice, cola, tea… help yourself.”

  Jason moved to the fridge, but Mae focused on Alana and tucked a wayward strand of auburn hair behind her ear. She squared her thin, almost frail, shoulders.

  “There may be more attacks coming.”

  “You’ve heard chatter?” Alana smoothed her black cardigan. She felt a little lightheaded. “Let’s sit down.”

  On the sofa, she pulled in a deep breath.

  “Not exactly,” Mae said. “But if this is part of something bigger –”

  “Bigger?” Alana scoffed. “Bigger than almost a thousand arson fires?”

  It was hard to imagine. She didn’t want to. Mae sat on a chair opposite her.

  “Initially, it appeared as a local, home-grown group. Now, we’re not so sure. What if a foreign state is involved?”

  “Like who?” Alana leaned forward. “Most of our enemies were kind of wiped out in that Israeli debacle.”

  “But we’re not talking traditional warfare, with tanks and troops. We’re talking terrorism. Asymmetrical warfare.”

  Mae’s words daggered into Alana’s mind. Of course they were. But who…?

  “A Muslim country? North Korea? What are you thinking?” Alana twisted her hands together.

  “Maybe. Doesn’t look like Russia. Iran, maybe?”

  Jason came over with a cola. His white shirt was slightly wrinkled and bulged a little at his middle. He took the chair beside Mae.

  Alana rose and walked to the window. She stood there, looking out, as long moments stretched past. Then she whirled to face her staff.

  “Are you telling me that nobody saw anything? How could that be?!”

  “That’s not exactly accurate,” Jason said. “Certainly there must be some witnesses. It’s so soon still, we just don’t have that information.”

  Alana flung her hands in the air. “Get it! We need it!”

  “Local authorities and the FBI are on the ground, interviewing people.” Mae gazed at her with calm eyes, like somewhere in the course of her sixty years, she’d seen it all before. “They’ll turn something up.”

  Alana paced in front of the window.

  “Do you think it’s ISIS? Don’t terrorist groups usually claim their successful attacks? Take credit for all the devastation?”

  “Often, yes,” Mae agreed. “But not always. For years, nobody claimed 9-11.”

  Alana rubbed her temples.

  “We need to figure out how to manage the flow of information on this.” She turned to her chief of staff. “Work with CAL-FIRE and the governor. Coordinate with our staff and the president’s staff. And keep me updated! I’ll be talking with the president in a few minutes.”

  “I’m on it.” He left the suite with his phone plastered to his ear.

  Alana stared out the window at container ships coming into the port. She took a long, deep breath and expelled it slowly. Then she turned to her national security advisor.

  “So, what do we do next?”

  Before Mae could respond, the door to the adjoining suite swung open and the president stood in the doorway.

  “I need you.”

  Alana started toward her.

  “Both of you,” Basilia clarified, glancing at Mae.

  They followed the president back to her suite, where several Secret Service agents stood near the sofa. Their faces were nearly inscru
table, but Alana thought she saw a bit of frustration in the visage of the youngest-looking one.

  “My security detail wants me to leave New York,” she announced.

  Alana said nothing. It was obvious Basilia had no intention of leaving until she was good and ready. Mae, however, nodded.

  “That’s a good decision. How soon are you going?”

  Alana forced her face to remain expressionless. Her national security advisor clearly had not been around Basilia long enough to recognize what was going on here. Well, she’d figure that out in a moment.

  “Tomorrow afternoon.” Basilia jutted her chin. “As planned.”

  Mae blinked once. “Have you consulted with Mike Robinson?”

  “Of course. He’s my national security advisor, not my boss.” The president leveled her dark eyes on Mae. “He also recommended leaving.”

  “That’s the safest thing to do.” Mae ventured further out onto her thin ice. “We don’t know where the terrorists might strike next. Protocols are in place to protect your life and put you in the safest location possible. And the vice president, too, of course.”

  Mae shifted her gaze briefly to Alana, then back to Basilia.

  “The country needs assurance right now, not panic,” the president said, her voice low and even. “If I go jetting off to an undisclosed location, how will that look? It’ll incite fear across the heart of the country. California is in a panic already! Let’s not spread it.”

  “But –”

  “But nothing!” The president fixed Mae with those piercing eyes. “People will think we know something devastating, and we’re hiding it from them. It’ll terrify them.”

  Mae’s lips tightened into a thin, sealed line. Basilia grew more animated.

  “No! We will assure them that everything’s fine. As it will be.” She turned her gaze on the security agents. “I’ll do my fundraising speech at the dinner tonight as planned.”

  Her chief of security cleared his throat. “What about the vice president, ma’am?”

  Basilia looked at Alana and her shoulders dropped slightly. “Maybe you should stay here. Keep up on the fire situation, and be prepared to update me when I return.”

  Alana nodded. “Of course.”

  Based on their expressions, this new plan, which would keep Alana out of public view, appeared to somewhat mollify the Secret Service agents.

  “And,” Basilia continued, “tonight’s play is out of the question. I can’t look like I’m living it up while my home state is burning down.”

  Alana sighed silently. So that was it. No fun, just work. She’d be staying in tonight, working her tail off, when she could have been relaxing in Vermont. No doubt the spa day was off the table, too. Unless the fires were out and the suspects apprehended by morning.

  Which was a crazy thought, considering there must be hundreds of suspects and not a single one was even identified yet.

  Who were these people?

  Chapter 8

  Nadir’s secure phone buzzed. He yanked it from his luggage and accepted the call.

  “Tell me good news, my brother.”

  “Yes. Everything is in place.” Kamal’s voice came through as clearly as if he were standing in the same room.

  Nadir eased onto his bed. “Everyone?”

  “Yes.”

  “So it has begun?”

  “Just minutes ago. And the wind is already picking up.”

  “That is wonderful. Wonderful!” Nadir closed his eyes. “Thank you, brother. You’ve done well.”

  “As have you,” Kamal said. “Are you on your way?”

  “No. There was a problem in my family. I am still here.”

  “But you will be… soon?”

  “I hope so. Yes.”

  They ended the call, and Nadir flung himself back on his bed. Tension drained from his body as he looked at the ceiling.

  Unbelievable.

  Almost too good to be true!

  The second phase of the jihad was underway, at this moment. And from what Kamal had been able to say, there were no issues or problems.

  They were behind schedule, yes. But the wind was already helping them.

  He had done his part. Kamal had done his part. Their entire team had done their parts.

  Now, it was just a matter of letting nature take its course.

  Clearing the land of wickedness and vile abominations. Cleansing. Curing. Burning away evil.

  He sat up. He would celebrate in due time.

  For now, he needed to change his flights. First, the one he was about to miss to Seattle, and then the later flight out of the country. This would not take long.

  Then, he would need to deal with his father.

  Or not.

  ***

  Katie tried to engage Anna in small talk as they waited for her dad to show up. Anna’s three children played with Timothy at the dinette, building LEGO® creations. How many millions of kids had grown up playing with those toys for hours on end?

  Her phone buzzed. Katie pulled it from her pocket and found a text from Zach.

  “In LONG line for gas. Might be a while.”

  She grimaced. Great.

  “Bad news?” Anna asked.

  “Yeah. Zach says there’s a long line at the gas pumps.”

  Anna bent and looked out the motorhome’s windshield. “Hey! My dad is here!”

  Finally. Katie followed her gaze. A beat-up old pickup parked in front of Anna’s car, and a short, heavy man got out.

  “Okay, kids, vamos!” Anna said, stepping toward the door.

  “They can wait here if you want,” Katie offered. “Until your dad has a chance to check out your car.”

  “That’s okay.” She motioned her children to join her. “We can get out of your way now.”

  Katie trailed them outside, where they all circled around Anna’s dad, who peered under the hood of her vehicle. Anna introduced Katie, then explained how the car was acting, and told him about the white smoke from her exhaust.

  “It does run?” he asked.

  “Si, but not good. The clunking noise, the white smoke – I thought it might blow up the engine.”

  “Go start it,” he said.

  As traffic crept by on the exit lane, Anna got in the driver’s seat and turned the key.

  White exhaust billowed from the rear of the vehicle as the engine coughed to life. It sounded like it would die at any moment.

  “Leave it on!” Anna’s dad yelled over the cacophony. He dropped the hood and leaned on it to latch it closed. “Kids, go get in my truck.”

  As his grandchildren ran to claim seats in his pickup, he walked over to Anna’s open window. “You drive the truck. I’ll go ahead of you in this piece of –”

  He glanced at Katie. “Junk.”

  Anna climbed out of the car.

  “Okay.” She took the keys her dad held out to her, then looked at Katie. “Thanks for stopping.”

  “You’re welcome.” Her phone buzzed. Zach again. “Oh, man!”

  “What is it?” Anna asked.

  “The gas station ran out of gas. Zach couldn’t get any.”

  Anna’s dad looked at Katie like he was seeing her for the first time. “Your husband?”

  “Yes,” Katie nodded. “He couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Anna’s car, and he went to get gas for us while we waited for you.”

  “I have gasoline,” he said simply.

  Katie’s eyes widened. “You do? Where?”

  He jutted his chin toward the pickup. “A gas can. In my truck.”

  Katie clasped her hands together.

  “Can we buy it?”

  Oh, finally, something might work out today, in spite of everything! If he had a few gallons, they could put that in her pickup and drive to another gas station that still had fuel.

  Anna’s dad narrowed his brown eyes and shook his head. “No.”

  ***

  Alana’s stomach rumbled a warning. It was dinner time, and she hadn’
t eaten since breakfast. No wonder she’d been feeling lightheaded.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled to her chief of staff, who’d joined her to go over talking points for an official statement on the fires.

  “I feel the same way.” Jason rubbed his ample mid-section. “When’s dinner coming?”

  “Should be any minute now.” Seated at the dining table that they’d turned into a conference/work desk, Alana stretched and yawned.

  Her phone buzzed and the screen showed Thomas Abrams, the California state fire marshal. Yes, she’d take his call. Hopefully it would bring the first good news of the day.

  “This is the vice president.”

  “Madame Vice President.” His voice was somber. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  Alana’s chest tightened. “Go on.”

  “New fires have been ignited. On the lower slopes of the mountains, far east of the original line of fires.”

  She put him on speakerphone. “My chief of staff, Jason Lannigan, is with me on this call. You were saying there are new fires.”

  Her eyes met Jason’s across the table. His face paled at her last words.

  “Yes. Hello.” The fire marshal was breathing hard, sucking breath like he’d just run up a flight of stairs. “These new incidents are in the worst possible location. At the base of the mountains, to the east of most of our population.”

  “So what you’re saying is you’ve got a north-south line of fires along the coast, and now another north- south line along the mountain ranges?” Jason clarified, never taking his eyes off Alana.

  “Yes, that’s correct. You see the problem.”

  Alana was silent, her chest constricting. This couldn’t be happening.

  “If these fires blow up, it’ll cut off the few evacuation routes that are still open.” The fire marshal coughed.

  “What are the odds of that?” Jason asked. “The fires blowing up.”

  “Very strong probability. The Santa Ana and the Diablo winds have already begun blowing, and they’re anticipated to be quite strong tonight.” He paused as if to catch his breath. “These winds can blow 50 or 60 miles an hour, or even up to hurricane strength. They’ll create firestorms of unbelievable proportions. They come whipping down the slopes. They’ll hit those fires, fan them into monsters, and blow them right into town.”