State of Emergency: Jack Emery 2

by Steve P Vincent

  But first he had to deal with the problems getting in his way. He was not worried about the resistance, yet, but he was concerned by Guerrilla Radio. They had to be crushed.

  While journalists may be martyrs, they were still people. By taking away the ones they loved and giving them an ultimatum, most would fall into line. The ones that didn’t could then be dealt with directly. He’d be able to starve the existing members of their motivation and, more importantly, targeting the loved ones of existing members made it far less likely that new recruits would be in a hurry to join. Though he’d authorized a few arrests so far and ordered camps be built to detain people, it was time to scale up.

  He’d tried being subtle, but it hadn’t worked. It was time to swing a sledgehammer. It was just a shame all the highly paid analysts in the world couldn’t come with an idea half as good as his own.

  ***

  The Chevy pulled to a stop with the screech of well-worn brakes as Jack turned to Elena. “We’re here.”

  She nodded and gestured out the window, toward the house they’d pulled up in front of. “Time to meet your girlfriend.”

  Jack winced. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  She winked. “Sure.”

  Jack groaned as she opened the door and climbed out. They’d left Indianapolis with a stream of other civilian refugees. Luckily, the State Guard hadn’t targeted them as overwhelming force was brought to bear on the 38th Infantry Division. The civilian casualties had been immense, as had damage to the city, but Jack and Elena had been lucky enough to make it to New York without further incident.

  Now they were at Celeste’s house. He sighed and turned off the ignition. Part of him preferred the idea of being in combat to what was to come. He and Celeste hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. He’d fled his responsibilities and shut her out, along with everyone else, and he was sure their relationship had been damaged. But he’d driven halfway across the country and it was time to front up to her.

  He opened the door, climbed out of the car and locked it. As Elena fell in behind him he climbed the steps and knocked on the door. He wondered if Celeste was on the other side, sizing him up through the peephole and deciding whether to let him in. There was a roughly even chance of her opening the door armed with a handgun as there was of her not answering at all. The door opened. Turns out he was wrong.

  “Good to see you, Jack.” Peter smiled.

  Peter Weston had been Ernest McDowell’s assistant for a decade, prior to McDowell’s death. Now he was the Managing Director of EMCorp, appointed by Ernest’s daughter in her stead. The stresses of the new job looked to have aged Peter, but his smile was no less warm than Jack remembered. He’d expected him to be here, but it was still nice to see the other man, if only to have a witness present if Celeste came at him with a cleaver.

  “Hi Peter.” He held out his arms and gave Peter a quick hug. “Been a rough time trying to get here. Thanks for coming.”

  “Not a problem.” Peter’s eyes twinkled in the streetlight. “I thought the reporting from Indianapolis might be your handiwork.”

  “You saw that?” Jack winked, but didn’t confirm anything.

  “We still have some connection to the outside world, you know.”

  Jack bit the bullet. “Celeste around?”

  Peter’s features hardened. “She’s inside.”

  “Okay.” Jack started to walk inside, past Peter, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Take it easy, Jack.” Peter’s voice was heavy with warning. “She’s still upset at you.”

  “I know. Give me five?”

  “Sure.” Peter nodded. “I’ll keep your friend company.”

  “Thanks.”

  He walked down the hall until he reached the open-plan kitchen and living room at the back of the house. He pulled up short when he saw her sitting on the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand and lit only by a lamp. As she stared at him, a wave of emotions hit him: guilt, fear, lust. He hadn’t seen her in a long time – this meeting would determine if he got to see her much into the future. Suddenly he realized that he wanted that very much.

  “Nice of you to drop in.” Her British accent somehow made her sound all the more icy.

  “Hi.” He walked across the room and moved to sit next to her on the sofa.

  She held up a hand, her face a picture of darkness. “You don’t get to sit.”

  He nodded and backed off, feeling awkward. He could feel the waves of pain and anger radiating off her. He couldn’t blame her. While he’d hoped that once they were together in the same place again things wouldn’t be so bad between them, it looked like a false hope. It was looking unlikely that she’d speak to him, let alone forgive him. He needed to have another shot at explaining the reasons for his absence, though it might not satisfy her.

  “I’m sorry, Celeste.” He held his hands out, palms facing upward. “No reservations.”

  She stood, her wine glass still in her hand. He waited and watched as she came closer, then in one quick flick of her wrist sprayed him with the remnants of her drink. He felt the moisture on his face but resisted the urge to reach up and wipe it off. She tossed the glass onto the floor, smashing it on the tiles, then sat back down again. He stood, unmoving, and waited for whatever happened next.

  “Now you can explain.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “You’ve got one chance.”

  He felt the wine slowly drip from his face, but he ignored it. “I needed to heal, Celeste. After we stopped the Foundation and I won the Pulitzer, things—”

  She scoffed. “Things started to happen between us. Things you were a willing participant in, Jack. Then, just as I was starting to have feelings for you, you ran.”

  “I know.” He shrugged. “I don’t have an answer, not one to fix my mistake or satisfy you. I thought I could heal and stay in New York, but I was wrong. It was too much.”

  She continued to stare up at him, and he thought he could see a tear in her eye. “You don’t think I had healing to do? I was okay being friends but you pressed for more.”

  “I know.”

  “Then you ran.”

  “I know.”

  She curled her legs underneath her and hugged her knees. “You know what hurt most?”

  He braced himself. “Go on.”

  “After all the shit we went through, you didn’t just say ‘let’s cool it’ and go to Florida. You jumped on a flight and crossed the globe. I didn’t think I’d ever see you alive again.” She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. “You cultivated feelings in me, then ran as far away as you could once we started to grow close.”

  “I know.” Jack put his hands in his pocket. “I’m sorry. There’s no justification. I felt something for you that I wasn’t ready for, so I ran.”

  He watched as she sized him up. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him for several long moments. He’d known for months that when this moment came it would be a close call. He could have done more, had more phone conversations with her, but he’d been an idiot. Seeing her in front of him, he was now certain that he wanted her in his life. He just hoped he hadn’t screwed it up.

  He stepped forward a little. “I want to give this a try, if you’ll let me. But I understand the damage I’ve caused. The crime is mine, the verdict is yours.”

  “I need to think.” She let out a long sigh. “Go and get Peter.”

  He nodded, stood and went to the front of the house, where Peter and Elena were making small talk. By the time he returned, Celeste had turned some lights on and he could see the kitchen table was already covered with platters of food. When Elena entered the larger room, Jack felt the temperature drop as Celeste summed her up. He wondered if Celeste was getting the wrong message from Elena’s presence, so soon after he’d apologized.

  For her part, Elena was standing awkwardly in the entrance to the living area, as if some invisible force had stopped her in her tracks. He’d never seen her looking like she lacked confidence, but
on the other hand, their time together had been brief. You could never tell how someone would react to being the outsider in a social situation, especially when the insiders had shared as much as Jack, Celeste and Peter had. He had to do something.

  Jack waved Elena over. “Celeste? I want you to meet Elena Winston.”

  Elena lifted a hand up and offered a weak smile. “Hi.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Celeste’s voice remained cold. “Come in. Eat if you want.”

  They sat around the dining table. Peter did his best to lighten the mood as the two women remained reserved. Jack and Peter chatted about the crackdown, the terrorist attacks, the FEMA atrocities and gossip they’d heard about the situation in other places. Jack shared his and Elena’s experience in Indianapolis and when it was their turn, Peter and Celeste shared insight into what was happening on the east coast, including the extent and limits of FEMA control. Though both Peter and Celeste were still at EMCorp, they were horribly constrained in what could be reported. Jack sensed frustration, but saw no obvious sign that they’d be in a hurry to join the resistance.

  Finally, he decided it was time. “Ah, so guys? Elena is one of the leaders of Guerrilla Radio. I’m working with her to get word of FEMA overreach out.”

  Elena gave a small laugh, but there was silence from the others. He wondered if he’d gotten it wrong, as Peter’s eyes widened and Celeste crossed her arms.

  Finally, Peter broke the silence. “Why are you involved, Jack?”

  “I wasn’t at first. I wanted nothing to do with it.”

  “What happened?” Peter seemed genuinely interested. “What changed?”

  “A friend I owe everything to asked for my help. Elena helped me to help him, and it meant I had to get out of Chicago. We were doing the filming in Indianapolis.”

  “Indianapolis.” Celeste cut in, her voice sharp.

  “Yes.” He stared straight at her. “Indianapolis.”

  “She nearly got you killed, Jack.” She stared back.

  “I did a pretty good job of that myself.” He shrugged. “I was actually hoping you guys might be willing to help us out in New York.”

  Celeste shook her head and stood, bringing the conversation to an abrupt close. She picked up her wine glass and walked to the back door. She slid it open, stepped outside then closed it again. Jack could see her outline, staring out into the night. Every inch of him ached to join her and to comfort her, but there was larger business to complete. Or so he thought.

  Peter cleared his throat. “I think we’re all tired. A few of us in particular.”

  Jack smiled. “Sorry, Peter. It’s good to see you, anyway.”

  “Jack, I’m not opposed to helping you. I actually respect what you’re trying to do. But you need to get your house in order with Celeste before anything else.”

  “I know.”

  “And another thing.” Peter frowned. “I want Jo Tokaloka left out of this, whether or not Celeste and I end up helping. His heart won’t stand up to it.”

  Jack nodded. “Okay.”

  Peter stood. “Why don’t I show you to one of the guest bedrooms, Elena?”

  “I don’t know.” Elena looked unsure. “She doesn’t seem thrilled that I’m here.”

  “Good thing I pay her salary.” Peter patted Elena on the shoulder.

  “Go on.” Jack smiled at Elena, trying to reassure her. “It’ll be fine.”

  Elena nodded, but Jack could see the doubt on her face. She stood and followed Peter without further word, leaving Jack sitting at the table with his thoughts. He sipped his own wine, ate a few biscuits and delayed the inevitable until, eventually, he stood. He walked to the back door, slid it open and stepped outside. He closed the door and stood just behind Celeste. She was sobbing quietly.

  “It wasn’t so long ago you were standing behind me on the George Washington when I was upset.” His voice was barely a whisper. “A lot has changed.”

  “You didn’t even know about Jo’s heart attack! I wanted to tell you, but Peter wouldn’t let me. You disappeared.” Celeste turned to face him, tears streaming down her face. “You were a fucking coward. Others needed you and you weren’t here. That’s not Jack Emery. Not the Jack Emery I know, anyway!”

  Her words felt like a jab to his stomach. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”

  She let out a long sigh. “It’s a long way back for you.”

  “I know.”

  “And I may not be able to forgive you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Her features lightened for the first time. “But I think I’d like to try.”

  CHAPTER 10

  FEMA is pleased to announce that increased restrictions on movement in Indianapolis, Indiana, will be lifted. The restrictions, in place since the city was liberated from rebellious elements of the military, were required to ensure the threat to the city was fully dealt with. Administrator Hall has praised the patience of residents in Indianapolis, noting that although their city was violently assaulted things are now back to normal. Administrator Hall also expressed the need to be vigilant against those who wish us harm, noting that some FEMA staff and State Guard troops remain in conflict with terrorists in other parts of the country.

  Federal Emergency Management Agency

  News Release

  Jack enjoyed the rhythm. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head, taking in the view with hunger. Celeste’s features looked wonderful in the lamplight, moving slowly back and forth as she ran both hands through her mess of shoulder-length red hair. She offered a cautious smile, which he returned, then continued to allow his gaze to devour her entire body.

  They’d talked into the early hours of the morning, agreeing that they still had feelings for each other but the potential for hurt was enormous. Celeste had made no promises, but had asked to go to bed together. She’d told him that, after a delay of over a year, she wanted to be with him, to be held by him. They’d slept like that, but woken up to more.

  She writhed on top of him and her breathing became heavier. He felt his own pace quicken and a soft moan escaped from each of them. He felt his hunger turn to desperation and they pressed closer together, until his abdominals tightened. He reached out and gripped her tightly. A second later her quiet, brief moans became more sustained and he had to put his hand over her mouth.

  He smiled up at her. “The others might hear.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she continued to press down onto him. She kissed his palm, then sucked one of his fingers and bit it playfully. Slowly her pleasure seemed to subside and he rolled sideways with her, into an easy embrace. She snuggled in close and they said nothing for several minutes, as their breathing returned to normal.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Jack.” Her voice was a mix of satisfaction and sleepiness. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  He kissed her head and pulled her closer. He started to doze as she roamed his body, stopping occasionally on his scars, examining them then moving on. He knew that her scars weren’t visible, and his knowledge of what had happened to her in China – her rape – had made him hesitant. He’d let her take the lead and the result had been spectacular.

  “So, what do you need from us out here, Jack?” Celeste’s voice was thick with sleep when they stirred, hours later.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Guerrilla Radio.” She pulled away from him and put her head on the pillow, her eyes boring into him. “I want to help. What do you need?”

  He thought for a moment, trying to clear his mind from the hazy mix of sex and sleep. “The failure in Indianapolis showed us a few things. We need to develop a proper national network before we let it loose. Once that’s done properly we can discuss the growth of the resistance more broadly.”

  Celeste smiled. “I can start to sound out some EMCorp colleagues. I’m sure there are some who’ll help. Peter, for starters.”

  “Yeah, I spoke to him briefly last night. He’s on board.”

  An enormous bang fro
m the other end of the house interrupted their conversation. Celeste immediately sat bolt upright. “What was that?”

  Jack remained still, listening. He wondered if Elena had done something to cause the noise, but couldn’t immediately think what. But when he heard a second bang and the sound of cracking timber, he had a fair idea what it was. He rushed out of bed and started to rummage around for his clothing, which was scattered around on the floor.

  “What’s going on?” Celeste’s voice was an higher than usual.

  “Trouble.”

  “What are you doing?” She hugged the covers.

  “Getting dressed.” He smiled sadly as he pulled on his underwear. “You should too.”

  She didn’t get the chance and he only had his jeans half on when the shouts started. “NYPD! All occupants need to stay where they are.”

  The door to the bedroom was kicked in a second later and four officers dressed in Kevlar vests poured through, pointing pistols at the two of them. One of them flicked a switch and the quiet solitude of dawn was broken. Jack blinked a few times to help his eyes adjust to the light as Celeste pulled the covers higher. Jack raised his arms as he thought about Elena, who’d been sleeping at the front of the house. They must have scooped her up.

  “Get down. Get down now!” An officer shouted as he moved around the bed, keeping the pistol trained on Jack. “On the floor.”

  Jack complied. He immediately raised his hands and dropped to his knees. “No need to wave the guns around, fellas.”

  “Keep your mouth shut.” The officer pulled Jack’s hands together roughly behind his back and cuffed them. “Up.”

  Jack started to stand, helped by the officer. Another officer had his pistol trained on Jack while the final two were focused on Celeste. He’d been arrested before – once in Australia for taking a drunken swing at someone and a few times overseas for reporting on various stories – but he’d never been assaulted by storm troopers in such a way. He thought this might be Celeste’s first experience with police, though not with the authorities.