by M. Lorrox
Walking and rustling noise comes through the speaker. Then a door opens. Then whistling. Then splashing noise. Faster splashing noise. More whistling.
June scrunches her face. Charlie shrugs.
Then the door sound again. Then rustling for a bit.
“Sir? You were considering holding a reception here? I’m Luke, the general manager.”
“Hi, I’m Bob. Yeah, I wanted to check the place out. I’ve never stayed here.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s our fault, not yours.”
Laughter.
“It’s nice to meet you, Luke. So, how large of a party can you host? We’re not sure how many people to invite, but we’d expect at least fifty people.”
“We can host up to two hundred. Is this a wedding reception?”
June tears off a sheet and starts writing.
“Yes, my step-daughter’s.”
“Congratulations! Has a date been set?”
“Not yet. We’re flexible, but it’ll probably be in the fall.”
June holds up the sheet to Charlie.
Charlie holds the button down. “Unlikely that he is the target.”
“We host events all year, and as long as we’re not double-booked, I’m sure we could accommodate you. Would you like a tour of the ballroom?”
“Hmm, maybe, let me check the time.”
Charlie looks at June. “That’s code for reverify. Is it him?”
June winces. Skip puts his hand on her shoulder. She shakes her head.
Charlie pushes the button. “Not the target.”
“You know, I don’t think I have the time this morning for that. Instead, I’ll probably try and come back with my step-daughter, so she can see the place too.”
“Very good.”
“This may be an odd question, but my step-daughter is a total night owl, and she’d probably stay wherever the event is being held. Do you have a pool or other, uh, amenities that are open overnight?”
“Well, most everything shuts down from ten pm until six am… But, we could always arrange extended hours.”
Laughter.
“I’m afraid that might be beyond our budget, but it might be something we could consider. Oh, I left a brochure back up at the front desk, does that have pictures I could show her?”
“It does.”
Rustling.
“You mentioned almost everything shuts down. Are there any lobby areas open, or the gym, or anything?”
“Actually, yes. We have an exercise room with some treadmills that’s open all the time and also a business lounge. Both just require the hotel room’s keycard to enter.”
“And the front desk is staffed at all times in case anyone needs anything. Right?”
“Of course. I’m sure they’d be very comfortable here. What else can I tell you about?”
“Nothing that I can think of, but do you mind if I look over the brochure for a few minutes before I leave? In case I do have a question, anyway.”
“Please do! Just ask at the desk if you’d like to speak with me again.”
“Thank you.”
Rustling, then paper sounds. A cart rolls by. One wheel squeaks.
“Pardon me.”
“No problem.”
Charlie looks at June. She shrugs.
Rustling again.
“Hey, me again. So, I’m thinking about having a reception here. I talked with the manager, but I had a couple more questions. Got a second? ...How many rooms in this hotel?”
“One hundred and twenty regular rooms, one hundred suites, and forty double suites.”
“And with plenty of notice, most could be available, right?”
“Every once in a while, a group rents out a large portion of the hotel, but it’s planned well in advance.”
June scratches on the paper.
Charlie holds the button. “Possible target.”
“Say, you look kinda familiar...”
“Actually, I was going to say the same thing.”
“Wait, Andrew... Andrew Brown? I’m Bob Dawson. I served in the Eighty-Second Airborne, toured in Iraq and briefly in Afghanistan. Any chance we crossed paths?”
Rustling.
“No, not Brown, Martin. I was in the engineer corps, in Afghanistan for about a year, in 2012.”
“I wasn’t there then... Who knows. Might have just sat across from you at a restaurant or something.”
“Could be... Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“I guess not, mind if I walk around and check out the amenities?”
“I could ask the manager back out to walk you—”
“Oh, I don’t need a chaperone. I’ve spent too long following other people’s orders. Know what I’m sayin’?”
“Yeah man, I really do. Go ahead, and stop back if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
Rustling.
Charlie looks at June. She writes on the pad.
Charlie holds down the button. “Could be him, not 100%.”
The operative at the hotel pulls out his phone and sends a text to another agent.
CHECK ANDREW MARTIN
Charlie, June, and Skip spend another fifteen minutes with the man as he works around the hotel, checking out the pool, then chatting with someone from maintenance, then asking another bellman for info on the bus route. No one else sounds to June like they could be the man called Blackjack.
The operative walks down the street toward the metro station and waits at a bus stop. Behind him, a man comes up the escalators from the metro dragging a large suitcase. The bus pulls up; the operative gets on and pays the fare. He turns off the microphone as the man with the suitcase walks into the front doors of the hotel.
When the signal clicks off, Charlie sighs and flips some switches on the shiny black box. “We’re done here. Grab the pad and the pencil. I’ll check the hall.”
It’s empty, and Charlie escorts the Tubmans back to the suite. Once there, he texts Schermer and goes back down to meet her.
June flops onto the couch. “I couldn’t tell, I dunno, it’s like, that one guy sounded about right, but there was something wrong. I don’t know how to explain it... What if they don’t catch him?”
Skip walks over and brushes some hair off her face. “I’m sure they’ll figure something out.”
Sadie tears out of the bedroom. “I’m glad you’re back, and I heard a bit; I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. I really have to go now. I’m late.”
Skip watches her get her shoes on. “Similar plan as yesterday? Go through the workbook with Minnie?”
“Not quite, but I left a note with instructions. Minnie will love the surprise; you’ll see. I really gotta go, but thank you so much Skip for helping with her; it really means a lot to all of us.”
He smiles as she opens the door to leave. “You’re welcome!”
Eddy pokes his head out of the bedroom. “Cool if I sign out of Minnie detail? I could use a shower.”
Skip nods. “Sure, I’ll take care of her. Send her out.”
June gets up and walks to her bedroom. “I think I’ll take a quick rinse too. Maybe it’ll wake me up some.”
“Okay.”
Minnie walks over to Skip. “I’m thirsty, can I have some juice?”
“Uh, sure.” He walks to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and grabs some juice. “Your mommy said that she has something special planned for your lesson today, do you know what it is?” He pours the juice into a glass.
“No, she didn’t tell me anything.”
He hands her the glass. “Well, are you ready to start today’s lesson and find out?”
“Sure!” She takes the glass with both hands and takes a sip. “Yuck!” She makes an equally offensive face.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s gross—so sweet.”
It’s juice...? Oh. He takes the glass away and laughs. “I’m sorry, I poured you some of my juice, not your juice.” He takes a sip and frowns. They p
ut too much sugar in everything these days.
He pours some blood into a different glass and hands it to Minnie. “Here you go.”
She takes a tiny sip to taste it, then drinks it heartily. “Thanks.” She smiles at him with tiny little teeth wet and coated with blood.
That’s rather disturbing. Skip turns and dumps the sugary juice out and pours a glass of water. He drinks some and relaxes, leaning against the counter. “Ah, that’s better.”
Minnie finishes her drink and sets the glass down. “Done!” She smiles up at Skip again.
He smiles back in her direction, but he doesn’t look at her teeth.
Sadie rushes to the ballroom where the House of Elders is meeting. Luckily, the Council Guard recognizes her and allows her to pass without question. She enters the ballroom as quietly as possible; someone in a military uniform is presenting on stage.
She finds an open seat in the back and takes some folders out of her bag. She checks the itinerary for the day; it says nothing about this presentation from the military. She glances through some other notes but still cannot find any information.
Sitting next to her again is Dr. Aharon Fugleberg. He leans over and whispers, “That’s General James Roland Riley. He’s in charge of the military’s Zombie Defense coalition. There’s been a breakthrough, so they changed today’s schedule.”
“Thanks, Aharon.”
“You’re welcome.”
She directs her attention to the general. He’s tall with broad shoulders, short brown hair that fades to gray at the temples, and deep set eyes that don’t catch any light on the stage. He’s wearing a formal uniform laden with medals, and he’s stiff in it. It’s clear he’s more at ease in Army Combat Uniform while pointing laser guided missiles than he is here in a political meeting with a laser pointer/presentation clicker.
“...with these new tactics, we’ve had better results on The Line the past few days. These measures demand additional resources and soldiers, but we expect a much lower penetration ratio. The new defense perimeter systems are being implemented along The Line where we can, but in a few places, we have to pull it back.”
A woman across the room from Sadie stands. The general motions to her. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you, sir. My name is Señora Diaz, and I sit on our War and Defense Cabinet. Can you tell us more about pulling back?”
He clears his throat. “Field officers in four locations were notified last night. Public announcements are beginning today. Civilian evacuation and force withdrawal will take place over the next two days.”
“Where is it being pulled back sir?”
He frowns. “Please allow the official statements going out today to properly inform civilians. We don’t want panic to set in. I will tell you that the four locations are where we’ve experienced the most difficulty holding The Line recently. On the top of that list, and probably the largest loss we’ll face, is Nashville.”
There’s a bit of murmur in the room, and Señora Diaz remains standing. The general sighs and motions to her. “Last question.”
“Thank you, sir. Is the plan to pull the line back as little as possible or to pull back to a place with significant strategic value?”
“Due to the increased resources our new measures require, it’s not feasible to implement them in deeply embattled areas. But, we’re not planning on pulling back too far...” He looks out and sees attentive, questioning eyes staring back at him. “Please let the media alert civilians, but I’ll tell you all now that The Line will be withdrawn from Nashville, Birmingham, Montgomery, and Mobile. Our new measures are being deployed as we speak in Chattanooga, Columbus, and Pensacola, which will compose the new Southern States Defense Line.”
Sadie stands and folds her hands in front of her waist. She tries to look as unassuming and pleasant as possible.
Señora Diaz sits, and the general, seeing Sadie, shakes his head. “No more questions.”
“Sir, if you please. Will The Line near Nashville be withdrawn back to Knoxville or along Route 40?”
The general squints at her.
“I live in that area, sir. I apologize for being overly sympathetic.”
He sighs. “We’re giving up as little territory as possible, carving out Nashville from Bowling Green, to Lebanon, to Murfreesboro.” He glances around the room and raises his hands. “I will not discuss this further; I have additional announcements to make.”
Sadie sits.
“Dr. Melgaard, our top scientist researching the zombie virus, has made an important discovery. This information is classified. I need all observing individuals to leave the room.”
People sitting at tables along the perimeter slowly start to get up.
The general clears his throat. “Please, clear the room immediately and bring all personal items with you. Anything left behind will be removed and subject to search.”
After the observers leave and the vacated areas are checked for anything left behind, General Riley gives a signal, and guards take position at every door. He approaches the microphone again. “Thank you for your patience. The following information is classified. Releasing any of this information to the public will be a punishable offense. Dr. Melgaard, if you please.”
From a table toward the front, Lars stands and makes his way to the stage. He carries a cup of coffee with him, all the way to the microphone. “We had a breakthrough last night. Dr. Baker, one of my research assistants, discovered something that we can use to subdue the virus.”
Murmur spreads throughout the room.
“Before anyone asks if we have a cure, the answer is no, not yet. However, we have discovered a way in which the virus can be temporarily blocked. We have developed a sort of inoculation that can protect an individual from infection for a period of approximately eight hours, but there are dangers inherent in its use.”
He rubs his eyes and yawns. “Please excuse me, it’s been a long night.” He takes a sip of coffee. “As I was saying, the inoculation serum we’ve developed works for only a few hours, and can only safely be taken once every few days. So far, we can only keep this serum viable by keeping it in a toxic solution. So, it can keep you from turning into a zombie, but if more than one dose is taken before the serum is completely expelled from the individual, they will likely go through severe renal shock, causing death. Initial tests on samples have shown a 100% success rate at preventing infection—of all currently collected strains of the virus—however, we cannot in good faith test the serum on a healthy human and attempt to infect them.”
He takes another sip of coffee. “We are also currently limited in the delivery mechanism of the inoculating serum. I’ll spare you the technical details, but right now we can only produce a small quantity of it. We’re working hard back at the lab to find ways to increase our production and to make it safer to use. When we can get it into the hands of the brave soldiers protecting our country, we will see it’s efficacy.”
He looks around the room. “I’m sure you have many questions, but I cannot comment further. Thank you.”
A few people in the room stand and clap. Soon, the whole room is standing and clapping. Lars walks off the stage and returns to his seat with his coffee. High Councilor Vincent de Villablino takes the microphone. “Please, everyone, be seated.”
He waits until everyone is quiet again. “This news shows incredible possibility, but I’m told that it also introduces a threat. The schedule today has been altered. A special joint meeting including the High Council, the War and Defense Cabinet, and select elders will meet with U.S. military officials off-site today. The remaining elders will continue with today’s itinerary under High Councilor Flaxman after we recess.”
He pulls a list out of his pocket. “I ask the following elders to accompany us off-site today: Dr. Penelope Peeters, Dr. Aharon Fugleberg, and Mrs. Sadie Costanza.” He folds the paper and looks out over the room. He notices Sadie in the crowd, and he locks gazes with her. “Also, be aware: tonight’s public presentat
ion with Prime Minister Zaman is still on schedule. This alteration to the itinerary only affects our daytime meetings.” He forces a smile. “I am looking forward to tonight’s meeting, and I will see you all again at that time. Right now, we will take a thirty-minute recess. Everyone I’ve listed for the off-site meeting, please come join me up front. Thank you.”
Aharon turns to Sadie and shrugs. “Well, I can understand why you’re being called to this, but why me?”
She shrugs back. “I guess we’ll find out.”
Skip works with Minnie on her homeschooling in the Costanzas’ bedroom, while Charlie, Eddy, and June talk in the living room. Charlie opens a folder and removes some printouts. “This is the subject you identified June, his name is Andrew James Martin. He could be using Blackjack as an alias; his middle name starting with a J makes it even more plausible. Any chance you can recognize him?”
She takes the papers and flips through them. A picture of him in sunglasses at the beach. A picture of him standing beside another man at a wedding. A military ID photo. A picture of him bending down with a compound bow, holding up the giant, antlered head of a large buck. A picture of him with a glass of wine. “What are these, profile photos?”
Charlie chuckles. “Yeah, that and the military picture. The FBI is working on snapping a high-quality image of him in the hotel uniform, but this is what we’ve got so far. What do you think, is it him?”
June tries to imagine his face with a cigarette and his body in the hotel uniform. She sighs. “I dunno, maybe. He kinda looks like the guy, but I can’t say that he is the guy. Something’s different.”
Charlie looks at the time and texts Schermer. “I think there’s only one thing to do, but it’ll be a little tricky.”
Eddy looks up from the images. “What’s that?”
Charlie looks at June. “Go get your dad, he’ll want to hear this... And Eddy, call Jules, tell her to send up a sitter, immediately.”
Jules doesn’t send a sitter; she sends Katlyn Bergström, the children’s activity coordinator. After a very brief discussion with Eddy, Katlyn takes Minnie out of the suite. She has an activity planned in a few minutes, and she brings Minnie with her.
