Broken Justice

by Ralph Gibbs

  “And the girl?”

  “She’s in Atlanta. She’s with a couple that’s taking good care of her. Unfortunately, she’s also pregnant. She’ll probably give birth a few months after we get back.”

  “You didn’t let her abort it?”

  “The community doesn’t believe in abortion. Once she gives birth, we’ll offer to let someone else raise the baby, but it will be her choice. Anyway, that’s one example of why we don’t have prisons. What if they overpower the guards? Escape? Or, worse? Can you imagine the havoc forty or fifty escaped prisoners would have on an unsuspecting community? That’s not to say a jail wasn’t discussed, but someone brought up the fact that we don’t have any professional jailers, and envisioned a scenario where the prisoners become organized, escape and try to take over Atlanta.”

  “Do you think they could do that?”

  “It wouldn’t be easy, but yes, I think it’s a possibility. All they would need would be access to weapons. And even if they failed, they could kill a lot of people before they’re put down.” The sudden sound of thunder caused them to look up.

  “Looks like it’s going to rain after all,” the major said, sounding disappointed. “I’ll walk you back to your house.” When they returned to Danica’s house, Paris was sitting on the porch waiting for them.

  “Hello Agent Ishida,” Major Barrette said. Paris nodded her head in greeting.

  “He’s been telling me about their settlement in Atlanta,” Gunilla said beaming. “He assures me they have a functioning hospital where I can have the baby.”

  “Or you can have the baby inside a mountain with top-notch doctors and nurses,” Paris said. “Imagine, years from now, you can tell your child you had him, or her, in an Atlanta hospital or in the heart of a mountain.” A look of annoyance passed over the major’s face, but it was gone so fast, Paris wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined it. She reached up and took hold of Gunilla’s hand. “And you would be surrounded by friends.”

  Gunilla looked up, and Paris could see her eyes were wet. “Can you stand to be around me that long?”

  “I think—” Major Barrette said, trying to salvage the situation.

  “Of course, I can,” Paris said, not letting him get a word in.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to be around me,” Gunilla said.

  “For a while, I didn’t,” she whispered. She lowered her head as if ashamed. “Sometimes, I still don’t.”

  “Then maybe it would be best if I go to Atlanta.”

  “Look, those people . . .” Paris started, choked up, and then started over. “I’m tough. I always have been. I had to be. Living in my neighborhood, if you weren’t tough, you were eaten alive. A lot of people said living in my neighborhood was tougher than prison. That may have been a bit of an exaggeration, but I’m trying to make a point. And the point is those fuckers nearly broke me physically and mentally. For a while there I thought my life was . . .” Paris choked up again.

  “Another day with them and I might have broken,” she continued. “That . . .” She dropped Gunilla’s hand and started visibly shaking. “It still makes me angry just thinking about them . . . And it terrifies me at the same time. I don’t know how to handle this rage that keeps welling up in me. It’s not you I’m angry at. I know that. But sometimes I can’t help myself. Sometimes, when I look at you, I think if they had—Paris placed her forefinger and thumb an inch apart—just paid a smidgen of attention to you, they would have left me alone long enough to breathe.”

  “Agent Ishida,” Major Barrette said. “I want you to know that I’m sickened by what happened to you. I’ll make you a promise. If you would be kind enough to show me on a map where you believe these people are living, we will deal with them with extreme prejudice.”

  “Isn’t that going to be out of your way?” she asked.

  “No,” he answered. “We’re headed further north to spread the word about Atlanta, and I’ll make sure it’s on our way. They’ll be lucky if we don’t strip them naked, strap them to the ground and let the sun cook them to death for what they’ve done.”

  “Thank you major,” Paris said.

  “Gunilla, I’ve wanted to tell you something, but I wasn’t able to find the time,” Paris said. “I wanted to do it in private, but I think now is just as good as any. Last night, when I talked with the president, I also spoke with your father.”

  “My–” she was too choked up to say more.

  At that moment, the major realized he’d lost.

  However, it was only round one.

  CHAPTER 38

  Paris logged on to the computer and found a single message with new satellite login instructions. After finishing the configuration process, she was immediately rewarded with the US government seal on her screen. She waited and then waited some more. After another five minutes, Paris started to worry she screwed up the configuration process. Maybe she’d accidentally connected to a different government department in the same way you can call someone in the same office by dialing one digit higher or lower. She was just about to go over the instructions again when Calvin Walsh appeared.

  “Good afternoon, Agent Ishida,” he said stoically.

  “I was beginning to think—”

  “I’m glad to see you made it,” Calvin said overtop her.

  “Why wouldn’t I? You said 1600.”

  “I wasn’t sure since you’ve decided rules don’t apply to you.”

  She folded her arms. “Oh, I see.” Walsh was attempting to pull the make-the-subordinate-wait-to-show-who’s-in-charge routine. That power-play only made her mad.

  Her voice took on a hard edge. “Sir, I have never made the contention that the rules don’t apply to me.”

  “And yet—”

  “And yet, you’re not the one out here in the field fighting off bandits, rapists, slavers and anyone else with a gun that wants to be a dick,” she said, the hard edge tipping to anger. “I’m sorry sir, but in the larger scheme of things, my not going straight to Colorado ranks right up there with diaper rash. Sir, I don’t know your background, but one thing you better learn right now is to trust your agents in the field to make the right decisions. Coming to Charlotte was the right decision for a host of reasons.

  “So, you either trust me to make the right decisions or accept my resignation right now, because I’ve been through too much to put up with this bullshit.” Her eyes burned into him and waited for his reply but decided she wasn’t finished. “One last thing, can you honestly say that having Gunilla or myself in Colorado would change anything?”

  He said nothing for a few long moments, only glared at her. It was a battle of wills he would lose because if he said the wrong thing, Paris would follow through with her threat and resign.

  “You’re right,” he finally said, and then relaxed his posture. “I’m not out in the field, and I’ll have to learn to trust that my agents are doing the right thing and making the right decisions. At the same time, I need to know my agents are going to follow orders. It’s because of this lawlessness you experienced that following orders is more important than ever. How can we even attempt to bring order to the United States if we can’t bring order to ourselves? Despite what people might think, the United States is not dead. Severely wounded, maybe, but not dead.”

  Her tone softened. “I agree with you, sir.”

  “And just for the record, I admire you for what you’ve done despite what’s been done to you. You are a strong woman, and I look forward to meeting you in person because I think you and I are going to get along very well.” He smiled. “I have no doubts we’ll butt heads, but we’ll get along nonetheless.” He paused for a moment as if trying to decide something and then forged ahead. “You remind me of my wife.” The tone of his voice told Paris his wife did not survive the plague. “She didn’t take any of my shit either. When I first went into government work, she told me to surround myself with people that wouldn’t take my shit, and you just proved to me you’re one of those peopl
e. I have plans for you.”

  “What kind of plans, sir?”

  “We’ll discuss that when you get here and are medically cleared. Your medical report will determine what aspect of the plan you’ll take part in, but rest assured, you will take part. Unless you decide to resign.”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “I have a personal issue to take care of first.”

  “The religious rape compound?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Agreed,” he said and a little too quickly. “Do you know when you’ll get started out this way?”

  “We’ll ride out the storms, then head out. “Unfortunately, so is Major Barrette and his group. I have a feeling they are going to offer to be our escort. They’re also making a strong push for Gunilla to go with them to Atlanta.”

  “Speaking of your visitors,” he said, holding up a file. He opened it. “Father Abraham also known as Abraham John Winthrop, real name Robert Thompson, was, or I guess, is, the head of a white supremacist organization that advocated the overthrow of the US government and the re-establishment of the United States’ first Constitution. American Poverty Law Center designated them as a Hate Group.”

  “No surprise there. Miss Justice briefed me on some of their ideology. Not very original.”

  “True, but this organization was unique,” Walsh said. “They had an entire shadow government set up, complete with two senators from every state and a House of Representatives.”

  “There were that many people in the organization?”

  “They based the House of Representatives on the number of group members in each state; most only had the minimum, and in a few states the senator also doubled as the representative. So, not as many as you were envisioning. Still, it was considered one of the largest racist organizations in the United States.”

  “And this Father Abraham was the president?”

  “In effect, yes,” Walsh said almost chuckling. “No laws are passed without a committee declaring the laws constitutional, and the elected president wouldn’t sign them without the spiritual advisor’s consent.”

  “Jesus, this Winthrop sounds like the Ayatollah.”

  “An apt analogy.”

  “Is the fake president still alive?”

  “I don’t know,” Walsh said, running his hand through his hair. “Hell, I didn’t even know Winthrop was alive until you told me, and frankly, I don’t care. I have a long list of things needing to be done, and the Atlanta group isn’t even on the first two pages. The fact is that within a year, two at the most, they’ll be begging for help.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  He shrugged. “Not much we can do about it. They’re not really a threat at the moment.”

  “We just let them run rampant over the East Coast recruiting and gathering strength?” she asked, sounding incredulous.

  “Paris, feel free to go down there and arrest him if you want. In fact, the FBI has a warrant out for his arrest.”

  “For what?”

  “He put out a video during the outbreak encouraging his congregation to spread the plague if they came down with it. He told them catching the plague meant that God deemed them unworthy but spreading the plague would redeem them in His eyes.”

  “We didn’t arrest him?”

  “We tried, but by the time we got to the compound, he was already in hiding. We didn’t have the resources to find him, just as we don’t have the resources to dig him out now, at least not at the moment. I can tell you this much. President Dixon will do everything in his power to hold the United States together. He’s already been in touch with the leaders of what’s left of China and Russia and told them that any invasion of US soil would be met with nuclear resistance.”

  “On top of everything else, he would use nukes,” Paris said, surprised.

  “Yes, he would, and I hope to God they believe him. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be too worried about it. It’s not like anyone else in the world is in better shape than we are.”

  “Sir, is there any chance you could send someone to pick us up?”

  “Again, we just don’t have the resources, and to be blunt, you’re not that important. I know, I know, I have plans for you, but . . . remember that two-page list I was talking about?” He pulled out a piece of paper. “I’m dealing with an infestation of rats, wildfires, electrical issues, fuel issues, political issues, nuclear power plant issues, chlorine issues—”

  “Chlorine issues?” Paris interrupted, puzzled.

  Walsh held up a finger.

  “—End of civilization issues, famine issues, invasion issues.” He dropped the page and looked at her. “Basically, you name the issue, and we’re dealing with it.”

  “I thought you said the president was in touch with the leaders of China and Russia. Who’s invading?”

  “Believe it or not, it’s an invasion from South America. They’re coming to the United States thinking we have the cure.”

  “And do we?”

  “No,” he said bluntly.

  “What about the chlorine issue?”

  “We got word of a chlorine plant explosion in Kansas. Do you know what happens when a Chlorine plant explodes?”

  “No idea.”

  “Neither did I. Now, I’m an expert. According to the Naval Research Laboratory, chlorine released from just one rail car can kill up to a hundred thousand people. That’s worse case, mind you, but it gives you an idea of the potential scale. Now imagine a chlorine manufacturing plant the size of a city block which can easily fill up several hundred rail cars a day, releasing the contents of what’s in its storage tanks.”

  “Any deaths?”

  “Potentially, several hundred thousand.”

  “Jesus,” she said. “What are you doing about it?”

  “Nothing we can do. Besides, chlorine is a non-persistent chemical. Because it’s heavier than air, it’ll linger near the ground, which will allow the wind to push it around and help break it up. The first rainstorm will finish it off. Until then, it’ll kill any person or animal it comes in contact with. So, as you can see, while I value your skills, I don’t have the resources to come get you. You’ll have to make it out here on your own.”

  “What about Gunilla?”

  “Gunilla was always nothing more than a favor,” he said and then immediately regretted it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to sound like that. But—”

  “Then my partner died for nothing,” Paris said, the steel back in her voice.

  “Your partner died in the line of duty carrying out the personal orders of the president,” he said with all the gravitas he could muster. “Gunilla has medical training, and she might be valuable in the future, but the hard reality is that neither of you is high enough on the food chain for me to divert resources. Although . . .” he stopped and looked at a map. “We have a small outpost at the Red River army ammunition plant in Red River, Texas, about eighteen miles from the Arkansas-Texas border. If you can get there, they can give you a lift. That’s the best I can do.”

  “That’s a little out of the way.”

  “Not really. Satellite imagery of your area shows several bridges washed out in the mountains along with a lot of flooding. Frankly, with the new storms passing through, I’m not sure going through the mountains is your best option. To get here, you’ll have to go south, around the Appalachian Mountains.”

  “That’ll take us real close to Atlanta, sir.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but It can’t be helped.”

  “What about North?”

  “You’ll have to head nearly all the way back to where you started from to make it through the mountains. Not impossible, but you might not make it before winter. I don’t advise getting stuck in the mountains during the winter. It’s also hurricane season. There are already several with the potential to make landfall in the United States.” He nodded to someone off-screen. “I have to go. I have a meeting with the president. He wants to di
scuss some new initiative. Get some rest Paris. You look like you need it. Wait out the storm and take time to relax. Contact me again in two days.”

  “All right, sir. I’ll try.”

  “If we don’t connect for whatever reason, try again two days after that.”

  Paris shut down the computer and found Franklin waiting for her at the foot of the stairs with Matthew, Nate, and Anita beside him. Franklin was grinning from ear to ear, holding something behind his back.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  He pulled a box from behind his back. “I told you I would make you watch this movie. I found the three-volume extended version. We can watch them over the next three nights.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “You’re not the only one that can find a store.”

  Anita ran up the stairs and grabbed Paris’ hand and began to pull her into the living room. “Come on, come on, I want to watch the movie. Mom and dad wouldn’t let me watch it before.”

  “So, what makes you think I’ll let you, now?” Paris asked, knowing she would, but enjoyed the tease.

  “That was a whole year ago. I’m an older woman now. It won’t scare me. Come on; we got popcorn and everything.” Walking into the living room, Paris discovered a new television that was almost as big as she was.

  “The movie wasn’t the only thing I found.”

  “Obviously,” Paris said.

  “Hey, if you’re going to watch a movie, might as well do it right,” Franklin said. “Especially if it’s free. Come on, the popcorn’s starting to pop. Nate, start the movie.”

  “Dad, I’m going to bed,” Matthew said, heading upstairs.

  “What, you’re not going to stay and—” Franklin stopped himself realizing what he was about to say. “Aren’t you going to have some popcorn?”

  “I don’t like popcorn,” he said, heading to his room.

  “Shit,” he said. “I fucked that up. That was just stupid.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Paris said. “Give yourself time. Give both of you time. Spend the day with him and Toscana tomorrow. Do whatever he wants. Let him get to know you again and give you time to adjust to his blindness. Try to figure out what you two can do together and then do it.”