by Tate, Harley
Keith didn’t say a word, focusing instead on recording his side of the table. As Lainey moved around the edge, Keith gasped.
“What?” Lainey stopped the recording. “Did you find something?”
He plucked a piece of paper from the table. Lainey squinted to make it out. It looked like handwritten notes on a legal pad. “What does it say?”
Keith ran his tongue across his lower lip. “I think it’s the transcription from a phone call. Order confirmed. Event imminent. Evac to SBD. Helo to SMF. ETA to LHR 13 hours.”
“Is that—”
He dropped the paper to the table. “I think it means the bombs are here and about to detonate.”
Lainey clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. They had to get back to Bear and get on TV before it was too late. “We’ve got enough. We need to go.” She grabbed her phone and hurried toward the door. As she reached for the handle, it opened on its own.
A girl no older than seventeen stood in the doorway, eyes widening by the second. Her eyes flicked back and forth, pausing first on Lainey, then on Keith, and back again to Lainey. “Who are you?”
Her British accent came out faint and soft, like she’d been born in the other country but had gone to school in LA. Freckles dotted her pale face and her strawberry-blonde hair matched the stripe in the carpet. Lainey didn’t know the Consul General, but if she had to guess, the girl was his daughter.
With a deep breath Lainey smiled like she belonged. “We’re with the evacuation party.”
The girl’s green eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so.”
Keith stepped forward. “She’s right, young lady. We’re here to box up all these documents and get them ready for shipping.”
She lifted her chin. “Now I know you’re lying. Father said it didn’t matter what happened to the things in here.”
“Why not?”
“Because pretty soon this whole area is going to be radioactive. I’m calling security.”
“No!” Lainey threw out a hand. “Please, don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because the people living here deserve to know the truth.”
The girl hesitated. Guilt flickered across her features.
Lainey took a chance and held out her hand. “I’m Lainey Sinclair, a reporter for KSBF news. You know, the TV station?”
The girl reached out a tentative hand and shook Lainey’s like she might catch the plague if she touched her for too long. “Poppy. I thought you looked familiar, but I didn’t recognize you without makeup.”
“Sorry about my appearance. It’s been a long day.”
The girl blushed. “I didn’t mean—”
Lainey waved her off. “Can you help us? Please? We’ve been searching ever since yesterday morning for some evidence of the attack. This is the first information we’ve seen, but we still can’t find confirmation of timing or who could be behind it.”
Poppy chewed on her lip.
“Please. I won’t tell a soul you helped us, but I can’t leave here with nothing. If we don’t warn people, millions will die.”
“I told my father that.” Her voice came out small and childlike. “He said it was too late. We had to save ourselves.”
“Tell us what you know.”
Poppy looked around at the table and at Lainey and Keith’s waiting faces. “They didn’t leave any classified information here in case nothing happened. I wasn’t allowed in those meetings.”
“But?”
“I listened at the door.”
Lainey kept the excitement out of her voice. “And?”
“It’s happening soon. I don’t know when exactly. But I think today.”
Lainey stifled a gasp. “Do you know who is responsible?”
She shook her head. “No. They didn’t discuss it.”
“Thank you, Poppy.” Lainey reached out and squeezed the girl’s arm. “Thank you so much.”
A shout sounded from outside the room. Poppy shut the door. “They’re coming. You have to get out of here.”
Lainey spun around. “How?”
Poppy pointed to the window. “Through there. It leads to the side yard. You’ll have a bit of cover from the bushes.”
“Thank you. You might have saved millions of lives.” Lainey reached out and wrapped the girl in a quick embrace.
“I’ll try and hold them back. Hurry.” The girl disappeared through the French doors and Lainey rushed over to the window with Keith.
Keith yanked on the sash. “It’s stuck. Help me pull.”
She put her back into it, tugging up on the metal handle with all her might. It budged an inch. “We’re never going to get this open.”
“We don’t have a choice. It’s the only way out.” Keith tugged harder. At last it moved, sticking again a foot above the ground. “That’s all we’re going to get.”
“It is enough?”
“Only one way to find out.” Keith slid to the floor and shoved his head and torso through the opening. Wiggling back and forth, he forced his body through the frame. As his feet cleared the sill, Lainey rushed to follow, crawling through the opening as the door to the room flew open behind her.
Chapter Eighteen
KEITH
Grounds of Consul General Residence
Los Angeles, California
Saturday, 7:30 a.m. PST
Why did the gardener have to be so damn efficient here? Keith plucked out a broken twig embedded in his palm and winced. If the trees and bushes were even the smallest bit overgrown, they would be concealed. Lainey stood beside him, her back pressed against the aging stucco as she tried to shrink into the greenery.
So far, the guards inside the house hadn’t figured out they escaped out the window. Either Poppy was an A-level actor or the guards weren’t the sharpest tools in the shed. Maybe it was a little bit of both.
Lainey leaned close enough to whisper. “We have to get out of here.”
Tell me something I don’t know. Keith glanced left and right.
Left led to the backyard with miles of exposed stonework and a wall not the easiest to jump over. Right led to the street still swarming with police, guards, and probably a million lookie-loo neighbors in their Egyptian cotton robes and cashmere slippers.
The only other option was straight through a stand of trees and over a fence covered in flowering vines. He didn’t have a clue what lay in store for them in the next-door-neighbor’s yard, but it couldn’t be worse than angry guards and cops, could it?
He jerked his head toward the trees. “How do you feel about hopping another fence?”
Shouts echoed from the backyard and Lainey grimaced. “I guess we don’t have a choice.”
They rushed to the line of trees and Keith grabbed Lainey by the waist. “I’ll get you up. Can you climb over?”
She nodded and he launched her up high enough to grab the top of the fence. Her sneakers slipped on the leaf-clad wrought iron and Keith put his back into it, hoisting her higher with his hands placed somewhere he’d never planned to touch again.
Lainey grunted, her body slipping back down as she clawed for a handhold. Keith braced her with his shoulder and at last she pulled away. A siren whooped once in the front yard and Keith whipped his head. Had they been spotted? He couldn’t tell. As Lainey disappeared over the fence, Keith jumped for the top rail, using all of his upper body strength to pull himself up. He groaned with effort, sweat breaking out across his forehead and down his back as he curled his arms and threw one leg over.
Why couldn’t these people like each other? A nice low picket fence, maybe just a hedge? He swung his other leg over the fence and his shoe caught on the vine. His knee twisted and he cried out in pain.
“Are you okay?”
Keith half fell to the ground on the other side, his shoe still stuck on the fence. He reached up to yank it free, hopping on one foot. “I hope so.” He managed to dislodge his shoe on the third try and shoved it back on before testing out his inju
red leg. His knee hurt when he walked, but it was bearable.
They didn’t make it more than ten steps into the yard when barking started. Keith cursed. A pair of white fluff balls ran back and forth inside the neighbor’s house, wearing a track in the wood floor lining a bay of windows. With the upper sashes open to let in the cool morning air, the windows might as well have been thin air. Even the cops out front had to hear the two dogs carrying on. Not good.
Keith grabbed Lainey by the hand and pulled her past the window. The pain in his knee slowed him down, but he pushed on, sneaking past a pool even bigger than the one next door. Beyond it, a thick, impassible hedgerow prevented access to the rear neighbor’s yard. Not the hedge he’d hoped for. He spun around. They were trapped.
Lainey pointed south. “We can reach Sixth Street from the far side.”
Keith surveyed the pool house and the brick wall beyond. A fence matching the one they’d just climbed over perched on top of the wall to ward off potential trespassers from the busier street. He frowned. It wouldn’t be easy to scale. While they were stuck on top, they would be exposed and vulnerable. “The cops are probably all over it.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Lainey broke away, rushing past the rear of the brick Tudor and their barking companions who had followed them to the back windows. At least the rear windows were closed, dampening the barking to nothing more than a nuisance.
Keith joined her a moment later and assessed the wall. “If they spot us, we split up. Try to stay in backyards. Find a place to hide. We can wait them out.”
“What about Bear?”
He didn’t answer. Without handholds, he didn’t have a clue how they were even going to reach the ironwork, let alone climb over. He spun around, searching for anything to help. Would a pool chaise hold his weight? Only one way to find out.
With Lainey’s help, he dragged it over to the fence, conscious of every wasted second. With the dogs barking and clawing at the windows, they were lucky the owner of the house hadn’t spotted them. Any minute now the cops could bust in and arrest them for trespassing and a million other offenses. Keith tested the chaise with one foot. It held. He climbed on top and lunged for the wrought iron. His fingers grazed the metal. He tried again and again, finally gaining purchase on the third pass. He hoisted himself up the brick, shoes slipping as he went.
After swinging one leg over, he reached for Lainey. She stood on her tiptoes on the chaise, arms outstretched. He grabbed hold of her wrists and dragged her up the wall. As she wrapped her hands around the iron bars and pulled herself up, Keith let go. He landed hard on the sidewalk, the force of his impact radiating up his shins and shooting fireworks through his injured knee.
Lainey landed a few seconds later, stumbling forward and almost banging her head into the wall. They wasted no time, racing down West Sixth Street as fast as Keith’s knee would allow.
He barely processed the neighborhood. All he could think about was reaching the van and Bear and getting the hell out of there before the cops caught on. They rounded the corner and the KSBF van came into view. It still sat undisturbed on the curb, waiting for them.
Keith rushed up to the back door as a man jogged past them. He gave Lainey and Keith the side-eye, slowing as he took in their dirty clothes and sweat-covered faces. He reached for his phone. No! Keith tensed, preparing to tackle the guy to the ground, when Lainey opened the van door.
Bear bounded out, a frantic mass of fur. He rushed to the strip of grass on the sidewalk and relieved himself no more than a foot away from the jogger. The sight of a giant dog off-leash was enough and the man shoved his phone in his shorts and kept running. Keith exhaled in relief.
“We can try and contact the station once we’re in the commercial area.”
Lainey’s no-nonsense statement brought him back to the present and he called Bear back into the van. As the dog jumped inside, he shut the rear doors. They did it. They broke into a foreign official’s house, discovered evidence about the end of the world, and escaped before anyone slapped handcuffs on their wrists. He would have laughed if he weren’t so shell-shocked.
As Lainey reached for her seatbelt, Keith jumped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. They were away from the curb and speeding down the street before she even clicked the buckle.
Less than ten minutes later, Keith pulled into a tiny off-street parking lot behind a coffee shop on Larchmont. The lot was intended for employees, but he didn’t care. They could always claim reporter privilege. It was amazing what people let TV vans get away with.
While Lainey tried to connect to the station, Keith let Bear out of the van. The dog wagged his tail and spun around, happy to be reunited with his owner and clueless as to the turmoil inside Keith’s head. He pressed a palm to his forehead. Everything had happened so fast.
First the conference room with all those reports and estimated damage. Then the Consul General’s daughter who confirmed their worst fears. He wondered if Poppy would lean on her father to tell the truth or if he would bundle her up and fly her out of there without so much as a parting glance. They weren’t Americans. That scrap of ground they lived on might not even be considered American soil. The Consulate offices definitely weren’t.
But didn’t they have an obligation to their fellow humans? Didn’t they owe it to their neighbors and their friends to say something? Keith pinched the back of his neck. Were the bombs really going to detonate today? If so, when?
He looked down at Bear. The dog sniffed the air as hints of bacon and cheese and fresh-baked muffins wafted from the open door of the coffee shop.
Part of Keith still refused to believe all they had seen and heard. Evidence could be manufactured. Everything Midge learned and the British government shared with their Los Angeles representative could be wrong.
What if it was right?
Bear whined and tugged on his leash, pulling Keith toward the smell. His stomach growled on cue. At first he fought it, tugging Bear back toward the van and Lainey, but then he stopped. What the hell. If he was going to die in a colossal explosion, he might as well go out eating a bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit. He turned and let Bear lead him down the alley to the coffee shop’s front door.
Chapter Nineteen
KEITH
Parking Lot, South Larchmont St.
Los Angeles, California
Saturday, 8:00 a.m. PST
Lainey slammed her fist on the dash of the van. “No, Matt, this isn’t some prank. I’m telling you, I have video proof that we’re about to be bombed back into the Dark Ages.” For the past ten minutes, Lainey and Matt had traded insults and explanations, each volley building Lainey’s frustration. She didn’t understand why Matt wouldn’t trust her for once. This wasn’t the same as a piece on police corruption or government kickbacks. This was about the end of the modern world.
Matt droned into her ear about proper vetting and chain of command and Lainey gritted her teeth so hard something in her jaw popped. “I risked being thrown in jail. I evaded the police. I escaped British-hired security guards. This isn’t a joke.”
“I told you before, Lainey, we can’t just put you on television and incite mass panic. What did you get from the FBI?”
Lainey groaned. “Nothing. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. If they know what’s going on—and I believe they do—they don’t want the information out there. The federal government is covering this up. They’re letting millions of Americans go on about their daily lives, ignorant of what’s about to happen!”
“Then where’s the evidence? Where are the conspiracy theorists online or on TV talking it up?”
“Half the country is blacked out or don’t you remember?” She threw up her hands even though Matt couldn’t see her. “We should be throwing light on this conspiracy and daring the government to tell us it isn’t true.” She tried to appeal to his drive to be the best TV news station. “We could break this story wide open. You could win a Pulitzer.”
It did
n’t work. His tone remained skeptical. “If there’s anything to this, then why are you the only reporter chasing this story?”
“I’m not. Crystal MacKinnon at the Times is, too.” As soon as she threw out Crystal’s name, she knew it was a mistake.
“MacKinnon?” Matt almost laughed her name. “Didn’t she compete for the very job you’re trying so hard to lose? Not exactly a strong ally in your corner.”
Lainey snapped. “Oh, come off it, Matt. You’re just scared that what I’m saying is true. Let me report it.”
“Is that it? I’m scared? I’ll have you know I’ve greenlit stories just as scandalous on less information.” Matt’s tone turned churlish. “Simply put, Ms. Sinclair, you don’t have the reporting skills to have figured all this out.”
Lainey closed her eyes. After everything she’d done for the station. After all the sacrifices she’d made for the job over the past few years. Matt thought she was a hack? That she couldn’t break a big story? If that were true, then all these years had been a waste.
She exhaled and spoke with resolute calmness. He wasn’t going to shake her confidence. Not this time. “Think whatever you want. But this story needs to be told.”
“Not until you give me more to go on.”
Damn it. Matt wasn’t going to put her on the air. No one would know what was coming. She blinked back a wave of tears. Her sister had given her the information and what good did it do? None. Lainey prepared to end the call when Matt spoke again.
“Now, if you want, you can go back to the Consul General’s residence and report on what we know so far.”
Lainey jerked upright. “What?”
“It might be good to have some variety in the reporting. People are getting sick of staring at the Federal Building.”
He’s going to let me on the air? She swallowed. “What can I say?”
“You can describe the blackout and what the FBI was willing to confirm.”
