Storm Tide Rising: Blackout Volume 2

by D W McAliley

  Marcus stood and the room seemed to spin. He barely made it outside before losing his lunch. He staggered sideways down the hall a few steps, then caught himself. The Chief stood silently behind him, a mute witness to Marcus's growing depravity. Marcus swallowed hard and decided not to vomit again at the thought of a witness to his own cruelty and inhumanity.

  He climbed the halls through the nearly empty facility in a numb silence of shock and denial. Commander Price met him halfway there, his face grim.

  "Did he confirm the name?" Commander Price asked.

  Marcus nodded. "It's Hall at the top," he replied. "Prisoner confirmed it."

  Commander Price paused, his eyebrows drawn down in a thoughtful expression. "You trust it? Is this real?"

  Marcus looked down at his feet for a moment, and shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "Well, the prisoner just gave me the confirmation, and told me he was sent to kill me. Then he asked if we could kill him since he finally spilled the beans so yeah, I think he's probably not holding much back. We broke him."

  "Eventually, everyone breaks, Marcus," the Commander said absent mindedly. "We should take this conversation back to my office."

  The Commander turned and started back down the hall, leaving Marcus no choice but to hurry to catch up. "Do you really think someone might be able to overhear us in the halls between your security detail and mine?" Marcus asked.

  Commander Price smiled. "The question is never what's indiscreet, Marcus, only the answer. And let's just say I'd feel more comfortable on known ground."

  Marcus couldn't think of a good answer to that, so the rest of the walk passed in silence. The two officers walked within arm's reach of each other, and they were surrounded with more than half a dozen security personnel keeping an active eye on the hallway ahead of them and behind, as well as any doorways or offshoots they passed along the way. They were safe after curfew, though, and the halls were supposed to be totally empty except for the rotating patrols. So far they'd seen no one else.

  Once they were back in the Commander's office, he relaxed visibly, and took a seat behind his desk, motioning Marcus to take the one across from him. "Now at least we know the name of who we're at war with," Commander Price said. "Unfortunately, I was on the way to tell you that the name doesn't matter. Somehow the man has blacked out his entire digital identity before the day he was sworn in as the Deputy Secretary for DHS. The only other thing I could find on him was his name in the chain of command and succession tree attached to the Continuity of Government plan. He's named as next in line to take over operations for the Secretary of DHS, and that would make him the highest ranking government official alive in line for the Presidency until a new election is held."

  Marcus frowned and shook his head. "So he's actually the one who's supposed to take charge legally? What do you mean he's blacked it out? It's his past, right? It's got to be there somewhere."

  "Wherever it is, the files have been either sealed, deleted or both," Commander Price answered. "From the day he was sworn in onward, he exists as a model civil servant and government employee in every respect. There's nothing to implicate him as having any sort of nefarious intentions. Even his financial records are mundane at best and show he lived well within a generous government salary."

  "So he just decided one day to pull off the greatest terrorist attack in human history, and then he did it flawlessly after a near spotless career? Why?" Marcus asked and shook his head again. "It just doesn't add up, Commander."

  After a long moment of thoughtful silence, Commander Price arched an eyebrow. "Unless he planned it all before he ever became the Deputy Secretary, probably before he ever became employed by the government."

  Suddenly, it all clicked into place for Marcus, and he felt like he might be sick again. "This bastard meant to overthrow the government for himself from the beginning. He sold the others on promises of power and money, but he had his own eyes set on the larger picture. He put himself in the position to take legitimate power when the time came. He was after the US from the start."

  Commander Price shook his head slowly. "A man with Hall's ambition for power, and his ruthlessness, I don't think he'll settle for just the United States. I think he means to take the world. And if he ever gets his hands on the information in our systems, he just might."

  "Commander, what are we going to do with the prisoner?" Marcus asked. "We can't keep justifying the way we're torturing him. The man is suffering to the point that he'd rather die than keep breathing. Think about that."

  Commander Price's face turned hard. "I think about it, Marcus," he said through clenched teeth. "The man is guilty of treason and a lot worse. He'll get his request granted soon enough."

  "Aren't we going to have a trial?" Marcus asked, shocked. "You can't just execute a man."

  Commander Price fixed him with a hard stare. "You've spent time interrogating this man, Lt. Commander. Do you think he deserves a trial? Do you think one's even necessary to ascertain his guilt? He's confessed it multiple times."

  "In response to torture!" Marcus shouted.

  "Marcus look at this rationally," Commander Price said calmly. "Who else can we really trust to be honest in this? Who will be the judge, the jury, and the lawyers? You and me? There just isn't any way, and we can't have a known and admitted traitor and assassin just sitting in a cell where he might escape and cause mayhem."

  "When?" Marcus asked.

  "First light, I suppose," Commander Price answered. "Let him see one last sunrise in the open. This is Justice, Marcus, not cruelty."

  Marcus was already on the way to the door before Commander Price finished speaking. "I know. And it's mercy now, after everything else we’ve done to him, that's for sure," he said.

  "Where are you going, Marcus?" Commander Price asked.

  "To learn everything I can from him before sunrise," Marcus called back, but he was already out the door, the Chief close behind him.

  Ch.62

  Change the Watch

  Eric didn't hear his father walk up through the gloom and darkness that seemed to be settling quicker tonight than it should. He never heard his father when he approached, even when he knew to be on his guard and listening. He was simply not there one moment and there the next. The surprise and shock of it had become almost routine now.

  "Seen anything odd, son?" Joe asked softly, and Eric blinked a few time before recognition dawned on his face.

  "Not a thing," Eric answered once he'd recovered. "I heard a few deer walking about an hour ago, but I never did see them. Of course, in this kind of light they could have been right under my nose and I wouldn't have known it except for the smell."

  Joe scanned the area as best he could in the darkness, but there wasn't much to see without some help from a flashlight or a lantern of some kind. After a moment, he turned back to his son. "How are you doing with things?"

  Eric shrugged slightly, looking at his boots. "Well enough. Glad to get that deer today. Things have been quiet for a few days, and that's nice. That going to change?"

  Joe frowned and glanced down at his own boot toes. "I wish I could say no, son," he replied, "but it probably will before too long. Danny came to work out a few deals that I think will be real good for us if I can get Brant to agree to them. He brought some pretty unpleasant news about town, though, and how the people there are starting to turn on one another. Seems to think it's going to spill out of town before too much longer."

  "You think he's right?" Eric asked, and Joe nodded with very little hesitation. "Well, why don't we go and take care of this threat first?" Eric asked with another shrug.

  Joe snorted. "You just got done talking about how much you liked it quiet, and now you want to go and find trouble with some army of thieves and brigands you have never seen or heard from before? What happened to quiet?"

  Eric gave another half shrug. "Well, I guess I meant that I like it quiet here," he answered after a moment. "And if it's going to get loud and dangerous, I'd rather it
was loud and dangerous away from Christina. And Mom and Nanny and all the others too."

  Joe's eyes narrowed and he fixed his son with one of his unmistakable looks that said he knew more was beneath the words than the words themselves. "What's been going on with you two lately?" Joe asked bluntly. The silence between them stretched. "Look, it's pretty obvious that something is going on, we're just not sure what. You might as well tell us," Joe continued, nudging Eric with his elbow. "You suck at lying, son, and in a group this tight you won't be able to keep anything secret for long anyway."

  Finally, Eric raised his eyes to meet his fathers. "Look, Dad, I want you to marry us," he said in a rush. "Christina and I have talked about it, and we just don't want to wait anymore. We were going to get married in the spring, but lately it's seemed like that is getting farther and farther away rather than closer to us. We just don't want to wait anymore with everything else that is happening around us all the time."

  Joe nodded, his eyebrows drawn down in thought. "And what brought this on tonight? Why is this all of a sudden weighing heavily on your mind, son? It seems to me that there's something you're not telling me, something you're holding back."

  Eric gave his half shrug and went back to studying the wet ground beneath his boots. "Well, Christina wanted to be able to talk to you guys together," he answered evasively.

  "Talk to us about what?" Joe asked, but immediately raised his hand and shook his head. "No, on second thought, don't tell me," he said. "If you don't tell me, I don't have to pretend I don't know yet."

  "Okay, so will you do it?" Eric asked. "Marry us, I mean."

  Joe chuckled. "Yes, son, I'll do the service for you, if that's what you both want. I'd be honored to, son."

  Eric let out a long, slow breath that he'd been holding subconsciously.

  "Your mother will want to make a big fuss about it, of course," Joe said with a smile. "But you let me know where and when. We'll get it done."

  Joe pulled Eric to him in a tight hug. It was a brief, but heartfelt expression of the bond between them that had grown stronger over the days and weeks. Still, when they separated after the embrace, there was a moment of awkward silence.

  "I need you to help me with something big, son," Joe said, his tone turning serious. "I need you to take the horses and ride out to Chris at the big road. Get him, and the two of you ride out to the herd. Make sure everything is secure there, and keep the horses on our side of the pastures in case someone needs to make out of there in a hurry. I'll be by tomorrow midday with our visitor to work out a deal with Brant."

  "You want me to tell any of the guys what's going on?" Eric asked hesitantly.

  Joe shook his head. "Just tell them I'm bringing a potential customer out tomorrow. Brant will probably have a lot of questions, but you just tell him nothing's been done yet, and he gets the final say over what's agreed to or not. That should put him a little bit at ease, I hope."

  "What about his guns?" Eric asked, looking over Joe's shoulder at the farm house.

  "Keep 'em for now," Joe replied, "He'll be coming with me in the morning, so he can get them then."

  There was a long pause between them, and after a moment, Joe broke the silence. "Eric, there's something you need to consider, son, and it ain't easy to bring up. But you know the way things are now," Joe's eyes fell to the leather thong around Eric's neck with four bottle caps on it. "Are you sure you want to run the risk of leaving Christina as a widow if something goes badly?"

  Eric thought about the question for a moment and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I know it's a possibility, Dad, but hasn't it always been? I mean, you never know what's going to happen from one day to the next, but the way I remember it that was pretty much how life was before this whole mess. But the one thing I do know for sure is that if things do go badly and I die tomorrow, I would really like to know what it was like to call her my wife once before I died."

  Joe nodded silently and gripped his son's shoulder. "Good enough for me, son. You be careful out there tonight. Keep your eyes open and your head down. If anything happens or if you get contact with any hostiles, send someone back immediately. Even if it's only one random poacher, got it?"

  Eric nodded. "I'll pass the word. See you in the daylight."

  He gave Joe a solid handshake and went to saddle the horses. It was going to be a long, cold night, but he was getting used to those, and there would be many more ahead as fall and then winter took full hold. When Eric got to the small corral on the back side of the grape vineyard, though, he found that the horses had already been saddled. Tom and Bill were waiting there and gave him a firm handshake each.

  "We'll keep an eye on things here, Eric," Bill said while Tom tried not to cough. "I know he didn't exactly make a great first impression, but I think this Danny guy is a straight shooter."

  "Okay," Eric said, slightly confused, "why are you going out of the way to tell me?"

  "You looked worried is all," Bill answered. "I've seen you look worried before, and you're worried about something. If it isn't the visitor, then what is it?"

  Eric avoided the older man's eyes as he climbed onto the first horse. "You must be right," he said hurriedly. "It's probably just the strange face being behind the fence line that's got me spooked is all."

  Before either man could make a response, Eric took the reins of his horse and tapped his heels into its ribs. He trotted through the darkness, the reins in one hand, and the leader for the other horse looped over the horn of his saddle. As he passed, Eric touched the first two fingers of his right hand to the corner of his right eyebrow in a form of salute.

  His father nodded back, and then Eric was through the open gate and trotting into the deep darkness of the cloud-choked night.

  Ch.63

  What’s Coming

  Marcus stood and clicked the stop button on the digital recorder. He paused for a moment and stared at the small device in his hand. The room seemed almost quiet enough to hear his own heart beating, or maybe the heartbeat of the man sitting chained to the chair across from him.

  “Is there anything you’d like to say?” Marcus asked. “Or any message you want taken down and delivered to family?”

  The man shook his head. “No family left, and anyone who knows I’m out here knows enough to deny I’m out here.”

  Marcus turned toward the door, but as he was about to step through it, the prisoner called out, “Wait! There is one thing. When they bury me, I want my name on the marker, not Morgan Edwards. Jason Alexander Soudeikin, that is my real name. You can try to look that up in your system, but they blacked out everything when I was recruited to the program—school records, medical files, tax records, even my social security card. As far as I know there isn’t anything left that still has my real name on it, just a numbered bank account for paychecks that I’ll never get to spend.”

  The man laughed, and for the first time in days it sounded sane. Marcus watched him as he moved, and though the manacles and shackles were clearly uncomfortable, he didn't have the same desperate and pained expression that Marcus had come to expect. There was no furtive fear in his eyes, only a calm and relaxed sadness.

  "Do you know what's coming?" Marcus asked, and the prisoner blinked at him in confusion. "I mean, do you understand what I told you? You understand that this isn't some idle threat; they're actually going to kill you when the sun rises tomorrow."

  "Believe me, I know," the prisoner answered, fixing Marcus with a cold, hard stare. "And if there was even a second where I thought I could get the better of you and chew my way out of my handcuffs and this little box you've got me stuffed into, I'd take it in a heartbeat. I'd rip out your throat with my teeth, if I thought it would get me out of here and living one more day."

  The man sat back as much as he was able. "Nothing I can do about it, though," he continued. "These chains got me tighter than a nut in a squirrel's mouth. I'm done, and I know it. Better than another two months with you in that room."

  For
a brief moment, a look of stark terror crossed the prisoner's face as the memories of what Marcus had put him through danced across his mind. He shuddered and shook his head hard. When he raised his eyes again, he was back in that strange blank calm.

  "I'm sorry for what I put you through," Marcus mumbled.

  The prisoner snorted hard. "If that's what it takes for you to sleep at night," he growled, turned his head, and spat. "I told you the truth, and I mean all of it. Every word. You know they say dead men tell no secrets. Why don't you tell me some of yours? Give me something to take to the grave with me."

  Marcus turned and headed for the door again, but the prisoner's voice caught him and held him like irons.

  "You took everything else from me, Lt. Commander," the prisoner said softly, quietly. "You owe me something, and you know it."

  Marcus turned back to him and regarded him for a long moment before answering. "You may be right," Marcus said. He walked across the room, bent, and put his face next to the prisoner's ear to whisper. "If Commander Price ever orders me to do this again, I'll shoot him."

  Marcus straightened and fixed the prisoner with a hard look. "I don't regret the fact you're going to your death. You've earned that and more; you're a traitor to the nation, to the people, and to the Constitution. You've earned your death. I just regret my part in your treatment leading up to it."

  The prisoner grunted. "You want some unsolicited advice? Run. Get as far away from this place as you can. I know you think this cause you're fighting for is worth it, that you'll be able to put the country back together when you're done, but you're wrong. It's already gone, and you just don't realize it yet. Well it's not worth throwing away the rest of your life. If you stay here, if you stay wrapped up in the middle of all of this, you'll end up laying dead in a pool of your own blood one day if you're lucky."