Overwatch

by Riley Flynn

“Guilty as charged,” he said. “But I’m curious how you picked up on that.”

  Hutch shrugged. “I grew up here in the Centennial State; interacting with military folks was a fact of life. And I’ve never seen a civilian talk to an officer the way you talk to the captain, so I made an inductive leap.”

  “Somebody’s gotta keep him on his toes or he’ll get too full of himself. That goes for the army as a whole; I fought for my country, but I didn’t fight for them to take over the government.” He sat back in his chair and sized up his companion. “You’re a pretty sharp cookie, you know that?”

  Hutch leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Raylene also told me about your escapade in the mountains a few months back,” he confessed.

  Son of a bitch. Todd laughed at himself for being hoodwinked. “So the genius was really just a street magician this whole time. I should’ve known.”

  “Indeed,” Hutch said with a grin. “As any of my students could have told you over the years, I’m a charlatan. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. But I’m still curious about what led you to put your name in for public office. I can see why that supercilious prick Stevvin did it, but you don’t seem like the type at all.”

  Todd decided to tread carefully, as he always did on the rare occasion that someone asked him that question. He hadn’t even confided his full concerns with the other council members yet.

  “I figured it was the best way to keep an eye on the new government,” he said. “And to make sure they didn’t start trampling on our rights.”

  At that moment, Raylene strode into the lounge. She flopped into the chair beside Todd, grabbed the bottle from the table and took a long swig.

  “Finally got Lisa calmed down,” she sighed, then grimaced as the bourbon hit her belly. “Had to give her a sleeping pill. She’s pretty torn up. I think she had it bad for Brad. Probably still does.”

  “Had they been together long?” Hutch asked. “Not that it’s any of my business, I just find it interesting for anyone to be finding love at this point in time.”

  “The new republic is pretty much a small town at this stage,” she said with a wan smile. “Everything’s everybody’s business. They got together after Brad briefed us on what happened in the mountains. She said tonight that he was already drinking pretty heavy back then, but she thought it was just a phase.” She shook her head, sighing. “Girls.”

  Todd frowned and turned his glass upside-down on the table. That was enough for now.

  “So we authorized a police department,” he said. “Assuming Raines agrees, of course. And within minutes we had our first arrest. Where does it go from here?”

  “Excellent question,” said Hutch. “This instance was fairly cut and dried, though none of us witnessed the actual crash itself. But next time, it might not be. And what about representation? Do we get lawyers? Are there any lawyers left, given the assumption that they’d be the first against the wall when the revolution came?”

  Raylene grinned. “I could listen to you all day.”

  “He makes good points,” said Todd. “Now that we’ve brought back police, do we bring back courts? Who’ll be the judges? What laws do we follow?”

  “That’s up to the army,” said Raylene.

  Hutch nodded. “Of that, I have no doubt. From a practical standpoint, it’s obviously the only option. But that line of thought also goes against everything America supposedly stood for before the collapse.”

  “Exactly,” said Todd. He’d been thinking the same thing for some time now.

  “Hey, hold on, there,” said Raylene. Todd could almost see her hackles rise. “If it wasn’t for the military, this city would be just like the ones you two left behind. America wouldn’t exist at all if it wasn’t for them. Hell, they were the reason you even came here in the first place.”

  Hutch held up his hands in surrender. “You’re absolutely right, I meant no disrespect. Unfortunately, we philosophy majors get our kicks by trying to poke holes in arguments. It puts us at the top of the invitation list for parties, obviously.”

  “It’s something we have to talk about,” said Todd. “Sooner or later, there’s going to be a real crime, and we’re going to have to deal with it.”

  Raylene stood up and pressed her palms against the small of her back.

  “All right, whatever,” she said. “I’m too tired to argue. But we don’t have to deal with it right this minute, so I’m gonna go see what Patrick and Elsa have whipped up for supper.”

  “Those two strange people in black?” Hutch asked. “They cook for you?”

  “The president kind of gave ‘em to us. They don’t talk much—they always seem to be working—so I don’t know much about them. They don’t complain, anyways.”

  Hutch glanced at Todd. “Interesting. That’s your assessment, as well?”

  Todd had wondered about the duo from the day Raines had first brought them all here, but he never really pursued it. Now he’d had just enough bourbon to admit to himself that he was lazy over the course of the winter, and hadn’t worked nearly as hard at figuring out what the hell was going on in Colorado Springs as he’d meant to when he first got on council.

  “It’s weird, I know,” he shrugged. “But who am I to tell anyone else what to do with their lives?”

  Raylene clapped him on the shoulder as she headed for the door. “I’ll come back and let you know what’s cooking. Unless it’s something I really like; then you can friggin’ well fend for yourself, tough guy.” She turned to Hutch. “I guess you’re staying too; you’re not driving anywhere in your condition.”

  He toasted her with his glass. “How could I turn down such a gracious invitation?”

  “Exactly,” she chuckled. A moment later she disappeared into the hall.

  After he was sure she was gone, Todd leaned toward Hutch. “Obviously, they’re spying on us.”

  The older man nodded. “Obviously, though I can’t imagine for what reward.”

  “That’s the thing these days: why does anyone do anything? I mean, for being on council, we get to live in this huge, empty palace of a hotel and have a couple people cook for us and run errands. Big fucking deal. We still have to heat up snow over a stove just to take a bath.”

  “Imagine the lot of the soldier,” said Hutch. “Living in cramped quarters under a mountain, working long days for no pay. Hardly an incentive.”

  “At least they can shower,” Todd grumbled. “And flush the toilet. That base may be a tomb, but it’s got its own water system.”

  “An embarrassment of riches,” said Hutch, sarcasm dripping from each word. Then he sobered: “I’ve never served, but I assume service just becomes part of your mindset after a while—that and the belief that the one giving the orders knows what he or she is doing, and has our best interests at heart.”

  Todd nodded. “That’s exactly why I didn’t enlist here, and why I ended up running for council. Right now, I don’t trust that anyone has my best interests at heart. Not even me.”

  Hutch tapped the bottom of his glass against the overturned bottom of Todd’s before draining the remainder of his bourbon. “I believe I’ve found a kindred spirit in you, Wallace. Two inveterate cynics, full of uncomfortable questions with which to needle the people in power. One can only imagine what mischief the two of us could get up to together.”

  Todd flipped his glass upright again and poured each of them another shot.

  “Hutchie,” he said as he hoisted his glass. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

  7

  Ruben killed the Hummer’s engine a good four feet from the curb in front of the downtown storefront that was the new home of the Colorado Springs police department, such as it was.

  “You’re not even going to try to park?” Jax asked as they stepped out into the cold.

  “That drift is three feet deep, man. What are we blocking on the road? Heavy traffic?”

  Jax frowned. The street was deserted, of cour
se. Traffic these days consisted mostly of military vehicles crawling through paths ploughed in the drifts between the mountain base and the resort HQ in town. Civilians had been asked not to tax the grid by charging vehicles, and most folks were staying close to their neighborhood supply depot anyway. A few people had come across snowmobiles and started tooling around on them, but that didn’t last long—once the tanks ran dry, there was no way to refill them other than tapping the precious supply of fuel at Cheyenne Mountain, and that was definitely not going to happen.

  “That’s not the point,” he said. “Parking is one of those things that we used to do that we should keep doing, even if it isn’t the easiest option.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s normal!” The anger in his own voice surprised Jax. “It’s what we did before the collapse. It’s what civilized human beings do, and like it or not, this city is civilization. For all we know, it’s the only civilized place left in the country.”

  Ruben stared at him for a few moments, then shook his head. “Whatever, man.”

  Jax cursed himself as he watched his lieutenant climb back into the Hummer and plow it into the bank of snow beside the curb. Did he even believe his own words? Was parking really the hill to die on these days? At the same time, every inch they gave way took them farther down a slippery slope. What they had in Colorado Springs was fragile, and it needed to be protected.

  He resisted the urge to ask if that was really so hard and the two trudged through the snow into the storefront. It had been a restaurant before the collapse, and before that it was a bank, built some time in the early part of the 20th century. The owners had capitalized on the theme when they renovated, turning the old vault into a VIP room, complete with original iron mesh door. A simple padlock and chain turned it into a holding cell that looked like something out of the old west.

  The place didn’t look like much of an office, Jax thought, with its long oaken bar and unlit neon beer signs, but the location—and the cell, of course—made it ideal for its purpose.

  Brad Farries sat in a chair across from a pair of steel desks occupied by Maggie and Brian Price. His hair was matted and dirty, his eyes red. He’d taken to wearing civilian clothes since he was put on leave, and it looked like he’d been wearing his current jeans and sweater for weeks. He glowered at Jax as he and Ruben walked in.

  “Captain,” Farries said flatly. “Lieutenant.”

  Ruben flipped a chair around and straddled it. Jax took his own seat next to Maggie.

  “How you doing, man?” Ruben asked.

  “Been better. How’s the shoulder?”

  Ruben made a swooping motion with his right arm. He’d been amazingly lucky to have healed so well from the crossbow bolt that had been shot through his deltoid in November.

  “Not gonna take gold in the butterfly stroke any time soon, but I’ll live.”

  Jax bit back the urge to tell him that being on leave didn’t mean he was allowed to stop referring to superior officers as “sir.” Again, not the hill to die on.

  “You didn’t have to come down here,” said Maggie. “I assume you’re here to tell us that the president okayed the council’s decision? You could have just radioed.”

  “Raines did give the thumbs’ up,” he said. “I wanted to talk to Sgt. Farries.”

  “Maj. Price and I have had several long talks with Brad,” said Maggie. “He understands what he did was wrong and he’s assured us he’ll keep the peace from now on.”

  “Or else,” Price said with mock gravity, prompting an abashed grin from Farries.

  “Copy that, sir.”

  Jax felt an absurd pang of jealousy; since when was Farries chummy with Price?

  “Consider yourself on parole, Sergeant,” he said. “You’re confined to base until I say otherwise. And I want you to see Dr. Whitelaw about your problem.”

  Farries turned slowly to face him, an incredulous look on his face.

  “My problem?” he asked. “Which problem are you talking about? The end of the fucking world? Cuz I don’t think old Doc Whitelaw can do much about that.”

  Jax didn’t respond. Suddenly the tension in the room was thick as molasses.

  “Or is it the other problem?” asked Farries. “That one where I watched my friends get blown to pieces in the mountains? You remember, right? When they all showed up to save our asses, and ended up walking into a fucking trap.”

  A jolt of adrenaline surged through Jax’s chest and doubled his heartrate. Anger mixed with shame and despair, so powerful it almost made him lose his balance. He wasn’t going to hold his tongue this time, but he still took a moment to draw in a deep breath. As he did, he noticed that the other three in the room were now looking at the floor.

  “I remember,” he said coldly. “You think it doesn’t run through my head, all day every day? Or the lieutenant’s? We were both there, Sergeant.”

  “Actually, we weren’t,” said Ruben.

  Jax blinked, his train of thought derailed. “What?”

  “We didn’t get there until after the explosion. We saw the aftermath; Brad here saw it happen.”

  Jax took another deep breath, trying to get himself under control. As if Farries’ insubordination wasn’t bad enough, now his SIC was contradicting him.

  “So did Maj. Price,” he said. “How are you handling it, Major? Drinking yourself into a stupor every night, like Farries here?”

  Price scowled. “Leave me out of this, Booth. I didn’t know any of those men personally.”

  “All right, fine,” Jax fumed. “What about Quaid and McCourt? They’re not driving trucks into buildings! They get up every morning and do their duty, just like the rest of us!”

  Farries shook his head. Jax saw his hands ball into fists on the thighs of his dirty jeans.

  “You mean they get up every morning and take orders,” said Farries. “Why do you think they do that? I’ll tell you why: because they don’t want to think for themselves. They don’t want to deal with the fact that nothing they do matters. You think anybody in this city gives a shit about what we do for them? You’re dreaming.”

  Maggie must have caught the flash in Jax’s eyes because she quickly stood and positioned herself between him and Farries.

  “I think that’s enough,” she said, dropping a hand on Farries’ shoulder. “We’re not going to resolve this here and now; all we’re going to do is say things we don’t mean.”

  “Oh, I mean what I’m saying,” said Farries. His eyes were locked on Jax’s. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life. Consider this the expiration of my term of service, Captain. I’m done.”

  Jax felt his nostrils flare. “You don’t decide when your ETS kicks in, Sergeant. I do.”

  Farries let out a humorless laugh. “Are you serious? You think any of that shit still applies? Pull your head out of your ass, Jax! The fucking world is over! You can keep pretending that it isn’t if you want, but not me. I’m done.”

  Jax took a step toward Farries. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruben stand and move closer to him.

  “I’ve saved your life more than once,” Jax growled. “This is how you repay that loyalty? You’re going to cut and run when the chips are down?”

  Farries looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. Meanwhile, to his right, Ruben moved closer.

  “Repay?” Farries goggled. “I’ve saved your life too, sir. We put ourselves in the line of fire for years, sweating our balls off in so many godforsaken deserts I can’t even remember them all! And for what? So that we could end up crammed like sardines into that fucking mountain base, busting our asses to help a bunch of people who couldn’t care less about us? With no hope that anything will ever get any better?

  “And let’s not forget the people that Adler and his crew were communicating with, the ones that you sent Val and the others off to find. Remember what they did to her.”

  He emphasized every word, reinforcing Jax’s existing belief that the man had
been harboring a crush on the woman for a long time. He couldn’t help thinking that what happened to her in that shipping container had contributed to his current state of mind, as well.

  “For all we know, those people are here right now,” Farries continued. “Watching us, waiting for us to show our necks before they pull off another attack against the army. Believe me, I’d rather drink myself to death than sit and wait for whatever fresh hell is around the corner in the so-called New Republic.”

  “Fine,” said Jax. “If you really want out, I won’t try to stop you. I’ll make sure you’re assigned a house in New Haven for your service.”

  “I don’t need a house,” said Farries, looking more calm now that he’d had his outburst. “I’m going to live at the Broadmoor with Lisa.”

  Jax saw Maggie and Price exchange a look.

  “About that,” said Maggie. “There’s a condition on your release.”

  Farries looked at her. “Condition?”

  “Lisa Blume doesn’t want you around her. She specifically asked us to keep you away from her.”

  “Are you serious? A fucking restraining order? Just because I drove drunk?”

  “You did a little more than that,” said Jax. “If you hadn’t been so hammered, you’d remember.”

  “Lisa said this?” Farries asked, ignoring him. “She told you she doesn’t want me around?”

  Price nodded. “For now, anyway. You scared her that day, man. She doesn’t feel safe around you.”

  Farries looked at each of them in turn, eyes wide. Finally, he tilted his head back and let out a bitter laugh.

  “If it hadn’t for me, these two would have died in the mountains,” he said, coking a thumb at Jax and Ruben. “And now Lisa is afraid of me. That makes a fuck of a lot of sense.”

  Maggie touched his shoulder again. “Look, Brad—”

  “Fuck off,” he grunted as he pulled away from her. “I’m leaving.”

  “Stay away from her,” Price warned. He pointed to the cell in the corner. “If you don’t, that’s going to be your home. Got it?”

  Farries gave him a cold grin. “I guess we’ll see what happens when the time comes, won’t we?”