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Redaction: Dark Hope Part III

Page 3

by Linda Andrews


  Dirk Benedict was enough of a slimeball that she’d be hard pressed to tell one from the other.

  His fingers dug into the sleeves of his jacket but he didn’t budge from his seat. “I’m hardly the only one to express doubts. After all, no one’s actually seen the radiation.”

  Kevin and Nancy Adler nodded like meat puppets.

  “Did you see the Redaction virus that killed nearly one out of three people?”

  Dirk studied his fingernails. “The government has told us so many lies, it’s hard to know when you’re telling the truth.”

  She caught the word you. He wanted to make this personal. She would play by his rules.

  “Everything that we know, you have access to.” Mavis lifted her tablet computer and shook it like a tambourine. Allowing everyone access to the information had been a tactic she’d initiated to thwart the government conspiracy nut jobs. The four remaining military officers had protested. Of course, it had come right after she’d mustered out the armed forces, converting some to peacekeepers while others were integrated with the general population.

  Lister grunted.

  Yeah, he could gloat. Judging from the nodding of the two men next to Dirk, her campaign hadn’t been completely successful.

  The black Bakelite phone on the wall rang. The electrolysis techs in EM-3 would be reporting in. Lister lifted it from the cradle. “Report.”

  “We have access to information only while at this meeting.” Dirk snorted. “Who’s to say you haven’t edited it for these little sessions and are only telling us what you want us to know?”

  Lister’s free hand formed a fist at his side. “You sure?”

  Mavis kept her security head in her peripheral vision. Obviously, the electrolysis machine wasn’t off-line for training.

  Colonel Jay shoved to his feet. His folding chair collapsed and crashed to the ground. “If it wasn’t for the Doc’s warning and planning, you would be dead by now. Killed by that radiation you think doesn’t exist.”

  “Nowhere in here does it say what foreign nation actually attacked us with anthrax.” Dirk made air quotes when he said foreign nation. “That smacks of cover-up to me. What was it really? Some military bioweapon that got out of hand?”

  “Copy that.” After hanging up, Lister pivoted on his heel. A muscle throbbed in his jaw as he joined her at the table.

  Oh God, it must be really bad. One thing at a time. Mavis calmly placed her hands on the table, the epitome of openness.

  “I deleted all reference to those we believe responsible for the attack.” If the idiot remembered that the attack came in toys distributed by Burgers in a Basket, he would know China was at the bottom of it. Of course, the troglodyte might not be able to read but if he really wanted to know he’d surely bully someone into doing it for him. Like he did with his other assigned tasks.

  Dirk sucked air between his teeth. “And you ask us to trust you, when you’re deliberately keeping that from us.”

  “I can’t think why you’d believe that.” She kept her expression calm. The bastard wasn’t capable of trusting anyone. He believed everyone else to be a backstabbing asshole like he was.

  Her gaze skittered to Jake Turner. The slimeball lawyer and Dirk had once been friends of a murdering sociopath. The two went out of their way to avoid each other now, perhaps too much. The fact that neither looked at each other caused the hair at her nape to stand on end. Yet, Jake usually remained silent while Dirk had diarrhea of the mouth.

  Like now.

  “We have folks from many nationalities and religions living in these cave networks, Mr. Benedict.” Although Section Seven had only native-born Americans. “If word got out that tree worshippers from Timbuktu had spearheaded the attack, I have no doubt that some well-meaning,” she added air quotes around the word, “Americans would beat the tree worshippers from Timbuktu to death. And in the process take a few others from Thailand and Japan with them.”

  “Like that would be a loss.” Dirk’s upper lip curled.

  “Someone from Timbuktu helped dig the drains that lead the water away from our living quarters. A woman from Thailand grew those fresh tomatoes we’ve all enjoyed at breakfast using hydroponics.” In her peripheral vision, Mavis watched a few men glare at Dirk. “And a professor from England streamlined the electrolysis machine splitting water into radiation-free oxygen to breathe and hydrogen to power our fuel cells. So yes, every person working hard to make life livable under hundreds of tons of rock would be a very big loss.”

  Unlike Dirk, who’d done nothing but bitch about how his back injury prevented him from working. Of course, he had plenty of time to spew his poison and create dissatisfaction. Kevin and Nancy weren’t his only acolytes.

  “I wouldn’t be bragging about those atom splitters, especially since they keep exploding.” Dirk scratched his three chins. His beady gaze skittered to a young Japanese woman who’d arrived from her nation just hours before Mavis had reached Colorado. “Just tell us who attacked us. Was it the Japs?”

  Fear flit over the woman’s features before she smoothed them back to a calm expression.

  Mavis sucked air through her teeth. Telling the truth would get innocent people killed. But lying… Lying might drive a wedge between the jerk and his halfhearted followers. Certainly, Timothy McVeigh had turned many Americans against the militias when he bombed Oklahoma City. “Mr. Benedict, do you believe the government was corrupt before the world ended?”

  He snorted. “Then and now.”

  She shrugged off the insult. He would believe what he wanted because of his agenda. Here was her opportunity to expose part of it. “Corruption must be fought, am I right?”

  Colonel Jay slowly sank onto his seat. A question puckered his forehead and his blue eyes shifted from her to Dirk.

  Dirk’s jowls wobbled as he nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “With force, if necessary.” She led him deeper into the trap. “All for the people’s own good, of course.”

  “If necessary.”

  Gotcha. Mavis’s lips twitched. “Well then you believe exactly as those responsible for the anthrax attack did.”

  Dirk blinked. Sweat glistened on his pasty skin. “What?”

  Mavis glanced over at the camera. The blinking red light meant they were live. They wanted answers; she’d give them answers. One most would believe, and he, in particular, wouldn’t like. “This goes no further than our community.”

  Dirk licked his bloated lips. “It won’t.”

  Yeah, right. Every survivor in the world would know within an hour.

  Lister hissed. “Doc, what are you doing?”

  Her stomach cramped. Okay, she’d have to do a little damage control. Was it worth it to control Dirk and his kind? She’d save maybe sixty people of Asian descent in Colorado. Thousands in California and thousands more in Australia. With so few people left, everyone mattered.

  But people needed someone to blame.

  Even if they had no face.

  And if a face was found? What would happen to them? Damn, second-guessing. They had to put these events behind them before they could start moving forward. She’d have to take the risk. God, please let it work. She took a deep breath then slowly exhaled.

  “The evidence suggests this was done not to cause an extinction level event but more as a means to increase profits.” There. Everyone knew corporations were greedy. Too bad she couldn’t have blamed the big banks.

  Now that people would have bought with no prompting.

  No explanations.

  This one would require a bit more finesse. Mavis glanced around the room. A few faces brightened as they made the connection. Others remained firmly confused.

  Lister bit his lip to stop from laughing.

  Dirk’s forehead wrinkled and his lips pursed. “I don’t get it.”

  The Japanese woman’s eyebrows rose toward her black hairline. “Profits?”

  “Money. Greed.” Mavis waved a hand. The lie stank, but it was for a
greater good. How many dictators had started on the same principal? She’d think about that later. “They’d developed an antibiotic more powerful than Cipro that had stalled getting FDA approval. Since they had also developed an anthrax vaccine, it was a win-win situation.”

  Lister covered his laughter with a cough.

  Kevin opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to speak. “You mean this was done to us by a pharmaceutical company? For profits?”

  Mavis flashed her palms. “I’ve said all I plan to say on the subject.” Lies were best kept short and simple. Especially if anyone wanted to remember them. “I expect what I said today will go no further than this room, but if it does, I’ll deny everything.”

  The idea rippled around the room on whispers. Disbelief gave way to slow nods as people filled in the blanks with swapped paranoia and their beliefs. After two minutes, nearly everyone was on board. A weight settled in her gut. What a world they’d left behind.

  Dirk glanced around the room then latched onto Kevin’s arm and tugged. “I don’t believe it. It’s just another lie.”

  Kevin’s forehead wrinkled and he scratched his chin.

  Dirk shook his arm. “Where’s the proof?”

  Mavis’s fingers danced over her tablet. Time to end the little worm’s backstabbing. “You worked for Continental Trucking, didn’t you, Mr. Benedict?”

  “I—” Dirk whipped his attention around. “What?”

  “Your disability claim was against Continental Trucking, correct?”

  The murmurs tapered off. Good, she wanted everyone’s attention.

  “According to you, I’m not disabled.” Dirk rubbed his spine and groaned.

  A little too late for the game playing. Mavis scanned the faces, paying attention to the lip curls of disgust. The man just might need protection when she finished with him. “They paid you a rather large lump sum of money just twenty-four hours prior to the Redaction hitting.”

  “What of it?”

  Mavis rose from her seat. “You didn’t notice anything during your last few days there? Nothing suspicious?”

  “I noticed the rusted cables and pulleys.” Dirk flopped down in the chair. “They broke and took out my back with them.”

  “It’s just…” She sighed. If the road to hell was paved with good intentions, she was in the fast lane. “Continental Trucking delivered the infected toys to the fast-food chain, and they’re a subsidiary of Alliance Pharmaceuticals—the company we believe responsible for the outbreak.”

  Chairs scraped the rock floor.

  Dirk reached for Kevin and had his hands slapped away. He tucked them close to his body. “I didn’t know anything about it!”

  “Of course not.” Mavis kept her voice neutral. “You were just the head of fleet maintenance before your accident. There’s no reason to suspect that you knew what was shipped, any more than you could plan to receive your settlement so close to the original planned date of attack.”

  “I didn’t know!” Tendons roped Dirk’s red skin.

  Kevin stumbled backward before pointing at Dirk. “Then why were you prepared for such an event? Weren’t you bragging about your stockpiles of food and water? Everyone’s heard you say you knew something like this would happen.”

  “That’s not what I meant!”

  Mavis perched on her chair. The bastard had better think twice before taking her on again. Dirk’s neighbors crowded him. Someone shoved him.

  “Damn, Doc,” Lister whispered in her ear. “Remind me not to challenge you.”

  Colonel Jay stood. “Should we intervene? They might just kill him.”

  They might. Not that it would be a big loss. Still… Mavis pounded on the table with her fist. The banging echoed around the cavern. “That is enough. We must not turn on each other. If Mr. Benedict says he didn’t know about the impending attack, then we have to believe him. Everything else is circumstantial.”

  “I didn’t know anything.” Dirk stepped toward Nancy.

  Nancy planted a chair between them. “Stay away from me.”

  Mavis nodded. A beautiful end to a dangerous relationship. “If you would all take your seats, I’d like to continue.”

  Moments passed. Dirk kicked the chair. “I didn’t know!” Folding his arms, he threw himself onto the closest chair.

  One by one, the others rearranged themselves at the tables until Dirk sat alone.

  He glared at her with a killer’s eyes.

  So be it. She’d send David Dawson to watch him and… Cold air hissed through her teeth and her heart forgot a few beats. She couldn’t send her ex-lover to do anything. David took orders from Lister. She faced front. Perhaps the security chief would update her on the investigation.

  The general adjusted his reading glasses and peered at his computer. “Where were we? Ah, yes. Not that I’m complaining, but why have the spent fuel rods stopped burning so quickly?”

  Mavis shook herself. Later. She’d deal with David later. Straightening in her seat, she faced Sally Rogers.

  Sally tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Doctor Spanner’s burn rate was accurate but it looked only at the whole tonnage of rods, not at the individual rods themselves.”

  Mavis called up her formulas. She’d made a mistake? Where?

  “The rods are more like individual birthday candles than one giant lump.” Sally electronically sent a .wmv file of a cake. Teardrop-shaped flames danced above pink candles.

  The information clicked inside Mavis’s head. “While they melted at different rates, each burned independent of its neighbor. So the meltdown will last only as long as the slowest burning fifty-ton rod, not the thousands of tons of radioactive material at a specific site.”

  Sally beamed. “Exactly.”

  Colonel Jay eyed his tablet. “So we won’t have to live inside these caves for the next hundred years? Things will return to normal?”

  Mavis shook her head. Things would never return to normal. “Radiation isn’t that simple. It—”

  “In that case, I propose we schedule elections right away.” Dirk pounded on his table. “No one elected Mavis Spanner to lead us. She just fell into the position because better men died while she didn’t.”

  Fingernails cut into her palms. Did the slimeball think she wanted her best friend Surgeon General Miles Arnez to die and leave her to helm a destroyed country and floundering humanity? “I—”

  “Good.” Dirk rubbed his hands together. “Then I propose we hold elections in a week. Who seconds my motion?”

  Water dripped in the silence. For a moment, everyone stood statue-still in the flickering light. A computer beeped breaking the spell.

  “A week is too short—” Lister shouted.

  She needed at least three years. If this proceeded now, Dirk’s hasty promises and mindless ambition could convince a lot of people to drink the funny punch.

  “I second the motion but with the caveat that the vote be cast in a month, not a week.” Attorney General Jake Turner rose from his seat, clutching his laptop to his chest. “As legal counsel, I think it’s time the citizens made our voices heard.”

  Chapter Four

  Damn Lister and the camel he humped his ass on. David Dawson raised the bottle to eye level and blinked at the remaining liquid. Half gone. Well shit. He wouldn’t be able to keep this piss-poor excuse for an undercover operation much longer.

  No one liked the drunken, dissatisfied sot he pretended to be.

  No one tried to recruit him into their fucked-up schemes.

  After two weeks, he hadn’t gotten so much as a nibble.

  And he missed Mavis next to him at night.

  Very carefully, he lowered the bottle to the floor. Glass scratched the concrete. With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the lead-plated wall at his back. A cold breeze stirred the ribbons attached to the vents of the greenhouse.

  Time for a new game plan.

  Kidnapping Dirk Benedict and water-boarding him until the fat ba
stard gave up his cohorts would be a good place to start. Of course, Mavis wouldn’t be happy about the torture bit. Hell, he wasn’t happy about the torture bit.

  But he needed a lead, a way into the vegetable thieves’ secret lair.

  And it wasn’t going to happen sitting here smelling of Lister’s watered-down brandy and pretending to be a loser.

  He wanted to do something. Not sit here and roll the scraps of information around and around in his head. He rested his forearm on the planter box on his right. Verdant cornstalk leaves scratched the sleeve of his suit.

  Waiting sucked.

  Especially when he had to do it alone. God, it really must be the end of the world if he missed that smart-ass Robertson.

  Too bad he couldn’t come up with Plan B and get Lister to approve it. Red light strobed the greenhouse in bloody hues. The ribbons deflated to flaccid pink lines on the dingy walls and the air handlers in the vestibule roared to life. Water gurgled through the white pipes over his head. Someone was in decontamination, washing the alpha, beta and other Greek radioactive particles from their protective suits.

  Hot damn! He was about to have company.

  His heart raced. For a moment, he was a soldier hunting his enemy. Unfortunately, the other security forces who could cover his ass were across a nuclear wasteland. He’d have to play this smart. Observe. Gather evidence. Plan his counter-offensive. Besides, he didn’t know if these newcomers were his targets.

  An alarm blared, rattling the triple-paned windows. The door was open.

  “Come on,” a man growled. “The shift will start in fifteen minutes.”

  David raked his fingers through his hair. Great! A work crew. They’ll be here for hours. Once again, he’d wasted his time and acting skills. Might as well head back to the mines. Maybe he should just approach Benedict and ask him for a stolen tomato.

 

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