Jack stopped dead and closed his eyes. First Ortiz now Simon Hickens. She might be lying, but if he was involved it changed things. “Why me?”
Lime green spoke this time. “We admire your work. You need an outlet, we need another reporter. We don’t know everything but we know some, and it’s critical we find out more. People have started to die. The attacks are just the start. FEMA has started to flex its muscles and enjoys the President’s unqualified support.”
The woman gave a cheeky smile. “You’re too much of a newsman to walk away. I’m Elena Winston. This is Matt Barker. Let’s get a beer and you can hear us out.”
Jack stood for a long few moments. Every ounce of good sense told him to walk away, but his feet remained rooted in place. Barker had a genuine smile on his face, despite his terrible taste in shirts. Winston intrigued him more. She had a fierceness about her and her name was familiar for some reason, though he couldn’t place it.
He turned to her. “I know your name. Where are you from?”
“I was a White House Press Corps reporter for the Tribune, but I quit the moment the paper agreed that all stories would go through the FEMA censor.”
Jack nodded. At least she was a journalist. “Fine. A beer. And you’re paying. And you’re also going to use your networks to distribute some info I’m sitting on.”
***
Mariposa nursed her coffee mug with both hands, glad for its warmth and the fact that, with her hands occupied, she was less likely to fidget. Across the table from her sat Alan Benning, eyes glued to his tablet as he swiped and zigged and zagged with his finger, his work never done. They were in one of the few enclosed meeting rooms that had been retained in the cubicle jungle that was the Clark Street home of FEMA Area V Command.
“He’s late.” Benning didn’t look up from his tablet. “His prerogative, I suppose, but hardly the best use of our time, is it?”
Mariposa muttered something to the affirmative. She wasn’t in the business of gossiping about her superiors, especially Richard Hall. He was in town and his assistant had organized a meeting with Benning and herself. Now he was late and Benning was irritated. For her own part, she winced at the thought of how much work was building up while she waited here. It just meant more hours in the office and fewer at home with Juan.
Before she could say anything else, Administrator Hall strode into the meeting room. He was an old and foppish-looking man, but his reputation and the power he now held was undeniable. She stood a moment faster than Benning, who’d been distracted by his tablet. Hall gave them a curt nod and stared for just a moment too long at Benning. As she sat back down, Hall took the vacant seat at the head of the table.
He looked up. “Thanks for meeting with me, both of you.”
“No problem at all, Administrator. Mariposa and I were just discussing how much of a pleasure it is to be able to show you the great work we—”
Hall held up a hand. “This isn’t the time. We’ve got seventeen dead on your watch. I want to know what happened.”
Mariposa was shocked by his bluntness. She looked to Benning, who reached up and stuck a finger between the collar of his shirt and his neck. He pulled, loosening it a bit. It was an obvious gesture, but a mistake. It showed both the administrator and her that he was nervous. Already unimpressed, Hall’s eyes narrowed at the delay, as if he was making an assessment of Benning. If Mariposa was a betting woman, she wouldn’t wager on it being a positive one.
Mariposa spoke first. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding, I look after Chicago. The incident happened—”
Hall glanced at her. “You’re here because I want you here. But first I want to know exactly what happened.”
Benning finally managed to find his words. “Uh, that one was on me, Administrator. We changed the duty rosters but there was an oversight. The distribution center sent half of their security detail on to the new posting at the correct time, but the changeover was very late. By the time help arrived, it was too late.”
“I’m aware of the details, Alan.” Hall’s glare could have obliterated concrete. “I want to know why.”
“It’s my fault. I didn’t make sure the order was followed through.” Benning looked down at the table. “It was just a mistake.”
Hall seethed. “A mistake that led to one of my most critical facilities going up like a bonfire? A mistake that left seventeen State Guard men dead and another critical?”
Benning stammered. “Yes, Administrator, but—”
Hall slammed the table. “It’s hard enough for me to keep the country united as we deal with this threat. Mistakes like this sap my ability to do so.”
Mariposa had heard that Richard Hall was a level headed man, but he was showing he had a temper. She couldn’t blame him. State Guard casualties had always been a possibility with an undertaking of this scale, but this was more than that. It was a wipe out of several squads. Hall needed the Guard ready to jump into burning buildings, but already she’d heard whispers about their capacity and new restrictions on their operations.
Benning looked shellshocked. “All I can offer is my apology.”
“No, it’s not.” Hall stared straight at Benning. “I had high hopes for you, but you’ve let me down. You’re resigning, Alan.”
“But—”
“This isn’t a conversation. You’re resigning. Immediately. Get out.”
Benning looked like he might protest, but the administrator’s stare put a halt to that. Benning went pale and gripped his tablet like a life raft, not looking at either of them as he stood and moved to the door. Mariposa started to stand as well, more confused than ever about why she’d been in this meeting, when Hall cleared his throat. She glanced at him and he shook his head slightly. She paused then sat back down and waited.
Hall ran a hand through his hair as Benning left. Once it was just the two of them he spoke. “I’ve heard good things about you.”
“I’m just trying to keep things as stable as possible, despite the restrictions.” Mariposa looked at her hands, then up. “It’s a hard situation for everyone.”
Hall smiled thinly, no hint of teeth. “That it is. I’m appointing you to replace Benning in charge of Area V. I need someone who considers their actions and is thorough.”
Mariposa didn’t know what to say. She squeezed out her words. “Thank you, sir. Alan is a good man, but I won’t let you down.”
Hall sighed, finally seeming to cool down. “We’re stepping up our timetable. Most of the country is now compliant with the orders, but the south is ablaze. A resistance is rising and there’s underground media. The attacks have slowed, but not stopped, and each additional niggle we get makes it harder to achieve our core mission.”
Mariposa nodded, but kept quiet. The rise of a resistance and underground media was not surprising, given the scale of the changes involved. But it was also a set of problems that Hall seemed willing to apply force to to stop. The underground media was probably the more difficult to deal with. They could be anonymous, dispersed and effective. As damaging as poison; as elusive as quicksilver. A problem.
Hall continued. “I was hoping some low level enforcement would be enough to deal with these problems, but they’re growing nonetheless. The President is getting very impatient and I’m going to start leaning harder on my area commanders for results. That includes you from now on.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll do my best.” Mariposa swallowed hard. “We’ve had some success here, but there’s more we could be doing.”
Hall smiled like a hyena. “That’s exactly what I had in mind. The great thing about the executive orders is the level of autonomy they allow us to get the things that need doing done. I’m always available for a call if you have new ideas on how we can achieve this. Now, come with me.”
She stood and followed Hall out. Promotion had been the last thing she’d thought about when she’d walked into the meeting room. She knew about the distribution center attack, but it was the latest attack
among many. It seemed strange that the Administrator of FEMA would take such exception to this one that he’d promote her in its wake.
Once outside the meeting room, she saw the entire staff gathered. Murray Devereaux gave her the thumbs-up as Hall gestured for her to stand alongside him. Mariposa kept her head down as the conversation buzzed. A hundred whispers with a thousand different theories swirled around the room, but to most it would be obvious – Benning was gone and Mariposa was standing next to Hall.
“The incident at Distribution Center Echo was unforgiveable.” Hall spoke over the chatter, which died down. “While we can’t completely prevent these terrorist attacks, at least not yet, nor tie down our bases so tightly that they’re impregnable, a mistake by this office contributed to the death of seventeen of our people.”
Mariposa noticed the shuffling of bodies and the sideways glances. It wasn’t every day an organization head was quite so blunt. Richard Hall was clearly not a man who suffered failure. He was a legend within FEMA, so he’d earned that right. It made her dread the idea that the buck now stopped with her. If a firecracker went off it would be her fault.
Hall shifted on the balls of his feet. “We now don’t have critical supplies for half the Area. Your colleague, Mariposa Esposito, has performed admirably in her duties in securing the downtown area of Chicago over the past few months. By all reports, there have been few issues with the administration of her area of responsibility.
“This is no small feat, given the potential for conflict in dense urban environments – as we’ve seen in Salt Lake City and other places. As a result, after Alan Benning’s resignation, I’m promoting her to leadership of FEMA Area V. I expect her to bring the same level of professionalism, diligence and results to her new role.”
There was a buzz from among the staff, until Murray guffawed. “Go on, don’t keep the boss waiting.”
Mariposa shook her head and stood slightly taller. “I’d like to thank the administrator for the faith placed in me. While the incident at the distribution center was terrible, it’s a blemish on an otherwise faultless performance by our office. I strongly believe we can get back on track.”
She paused. This was her opportunity to speak out, to tell the administrator in front of a large number of their colleagues of the wrongs being done in his name. That the restrictions, the violence and the oppression were just making things worse and that they were lucky there hadn’t been worse incidents. That the changes taking place in America weren’t ones that she wanted for her son, terrorism or not.
She didn’t get the chance, as Hall started to speak again. “I’d like to thank Mariposa for agreeing to take on this responsibility. It won’t be easy, but with such a fantastic team around her, I’ve no doubt you’ll get the results that are needed. The way we stop these attacks and restore order is through doing our jobs well.
“I’m spending the next few weeks traveling around the country, to oversee the response to problems in many of our areas. While, by and large, the entire organization has done a great job in securing America, there have been patches of bad performance. I intend to rectify these. Personally.”
If Hall’s ruthless treatment of Benning were any sign, then whoever was causing Hall problems would be best to quit before he arrived. He’d taken over a shattered organization and within a decade was leading the response to the largest wave of terrorism in US history. To Mariposa, he didn’t seem to be the kind of man who let a problem go unsolved, but more the kind who’d beat one into submission.
***
Jack widened his eyes and blinked a few times, trying to will away the tiredness that threatened to make him a car accident statistic. He’d never realized how dull driving on straight, empty roads at night could be. He’d been going the same speed in the same direction with nothing but the reflector strips on the road for company for hours now. He couldn’t even play the radio or wind down the window, lest he wake up his passenger.
Elena Winston was curled up in a ball on the seat beside him. He admired her ability to sleep in a moving vehicle. He remembered such effortless sleep – these days, his sleep was interspersed with nightmares about Erin, his torture at the hands of the Chinese or the other pain inflicted upon him by Michelle Dominique. Yet Elena seemed undisturbed by the world or her mind. He sighed and drummed softly on the steering wheel.
They’d left Chicago just prior to the city being locked down for the evening curfew. Elena had arrived at his hotel with mixed news: Guerrilla Radio had broadcast Ortiz’s information successfully, but because of Jack’s earlier attempts to disseminate the report it was important that he leave town. She’d offered him a car and now, less than twelve hours after meeting her, he was leaving Chicago with her, bound for New York.
One of the things FEMA had outlawed but couldn’t really police was travel on interstate roads at night – America had too many roads for that. It was a risk, but they were trying to get the hell out of Dodge before some flunky figured out that Jack was behind Guerilla Radio’s story about the nascent resistance. He cursed himself again for trying to post the story. While he wasn’t safe anywhere, he would be safer elsewhere.
He failed to completely stifle a yawn as a truck approached from the other direction. The amount of light that filled the car increased until, right at the point of passing, the inside of Elena’s Chevy was lit up like day. It turned out Elena was human after all, as she stirred and sat up beside him. The darkness enveloped them again, but she was already awake. She sucked in a deep breath and scratched her head for a moment.
“Welcome back.”
“Did I fall asleep?” She ran her hands over her face.
He laughed. “The minute we left the city.”
She pulled down the visor, which had a small light and a mirror. “Sorry. Tired.”
He cast a glance sideways and smiled at the hair matted to her face. “Classy.”
“That’s me.” She fixed her hair.
“Tell me how you got that story out.”
She looked at him as if she were summing up whether she could trust him or not and then shrugged. “Easy. We release everything we gather and can verify through all of our channels: shortwave radio, the Darknet, underground lectures. Even printed pamphlets, in some places where it makes sense.”
“Why not just use the Darknet exclusively?”
“Could do, but there’s not enough people using it. We need a mass movement of organized resistance. What we’re trying is nothing that hasn’t been done before when the shadow of totalitarianism casts itself over society. We have to try. Our reach is modest, but growing. Thanks to people like you.”
Jack let that one go. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with helping Elena. If he’d been thinking straight, the issues he’d had while trying to disseminate Ortiz’s information and the danger Elena had put him in by broadcasting it herself would have sent him running in the other direction. Instead, here he was, digging himself deeper. But at least he was asking questions. He didn’t get a chance to probe her further, because her phone started to ring.
“It’s my fiancé.” The pride in her voice was palpable as she looked down at the screen. “Do you mind?”
Jack smiled and shook his head, but struggled to suppress the darkness that rose from the pit of his stomach. Losing Erin still hurt, though less these days. Despite her cheating and the distance between them in the final months of her life, he still felt like he’d been robbed of something. He didn’t begrudge anyone their happiness, he just found it hard not to think of what he’d lost.
She answered the phone. “Hey, babe, how’re you?”
Jack listened to the conversation, though he tried not to. She sounded so in love, so committed to the man on the other end. Yet she also seemed to have another passion – reporting against the menace that was creeping across America and recruiting others to do so. He admired her resolve. He’d felt the same once, a passion for both his wife and for fighting injustice. He wasn’t sure he still had it
in him, but he liked to see it in others.
Finally she hung up and turned to him with a smile. “Sorry, hope I wasn’t too soppy. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
Jack smiled slightly and turned his head to glance at her. “It’s fine. What’s his name? What does he do?”
“Brad.” She beamed. “He works deep in the physics dungeons at UCal Berkley. I don’t really understand what he does, but he’s a great guy.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Jack turned his eyes back to the road.
“He’s the only reason I hesitate to do what we’re doing.” She sighed.
“What do you mean?”
She laughed softly. “If we make a mistake and we’re exposed, they’ll go after us hard. Is there anyone they can use to get to you?”
Jack thought about it, and conceded that Elena was probably right. FEMA were clearly growing restless and intervening into American society with an increasing vigor. So far journalists had been some of the worse treated, and growing dissent increased not only the risk for the journalist but also their loved ones. Guerilla Radio and the fledgling resistance were the very definition of such dissent.
“No, my wife died last year.” Jack thought of Erin again, then his mind flicked to Celeste. Did she count? He wasn’t sure.
“That doesn’t protect you. All it will take is one mistake and you’ll be exposed. It nearly happened in Chicago. If you’re joining us, think hard.”
He considered her words. His entire family was in Australia – out of reach. The majority of his friends were journalists and, while he had feelings for Celeste, he wasn’t sure what to call whatever they had. Regardless, if his friends were keeping their heads down, they’d be completely fine. If not, he couldn’t help them anyway. But he had no way of knowing if they were wrapped up in all of this. No phone call was safe from interception.
“If you’re in, really in, I’ll need your help in New York. We need people we can trust. Hickens trusts you, so you’re in.”
“I’ve committed to going as far as New York. I need to think about anything more than that.”
State of Emergency: Jack Emery 2 Page 8
