by Mark Goodwin
“A communist censoring the internet? Who’d have thought!”
Ulysses snickered. “Yeah. Colonel Barr has an email account set up for us inside the regime. We’ll use it like a drop box. We’ll never send or receive emails with the account.”
“Then how will we get information?”
“The colonel will send an operative across the border, have him login to the email account and save our messages as an encrypted draft. We’ll log in periodically and read the encrypted messages.”
Ulysses took out a small bottle.
“Hand sanitizer?”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover; or in this case, a bottle by its label.”
“Poison?” Ava asked.
“VX nerve agent. It’s what Kim Jong Un used to kill his big brother, Kim Jong Nam. He basically sent a woman carrying a towel laced with VX into Kuala Lumpur International Airport where Nam was waiting for a flight. She walked up behind the brother, wiped the rag across his face and ran off. You can watch the video on YouTube. Being the brother of such a notoriously nice guy, Nam immediately knew he’d been attacked. He informed authorities then headed for the airport clinic. By the time he’d crossed the terminal, he was already experiencing paralysis. You can see his legs getting stiff as he walks in the video. A few minutes later he was dead.”
Ava held the bottle in her hand. “I guess you’d want to be wearing gloves when you open this.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad idea at all.”
“So, is that what we’re going to do?”
Ulysses nodded. “Getting the VX on his face will be the easy part. Getting away before we’re caught will be the real challenge. The only way we’ll be able to get close enough to him will be to do it in a public place. We’ll have to think of ways to minimize our exposure to cameras and eyewitnesses.”
“What about a bathroom? What if we set it up to look like an accident? You said the nerve agent didn’t act instantaneously. If it looked like a casual mishap, maybe we could get out of the area by the time he started feeling the effects.”
“It’s possible. We’ll have to see what opportunities present themselves.” Ulysses seemed apprehensive about the operation.
Ava asked, “What’s my refugee name?”
Ulysses pulled a manila envelope from his pack and handed it to Ava. “Tamara Jones. We’ll work on your appearance tomorrow so the colonel can have your IDs made up. We’ll need to head to California no later than Sunday. Once those Facebook profiles have been modified, we’ll be up against the clock. We have to get in, eliminate our target, and get out before anyone discovers they’ve been tampered with.”
Ava felt the intense pressure of the insane mess she’d volunteered herself for. That was bad enough, but she also had the weight of dragging her father into it. Although he’d volunteered, he never would have done so if she hadn’t jumped head first into this muddle.
CHAPTER 11
And Joshua the son of Nun sent out of Shittim two men to spy secretly, saying, Go view the land, even Jericho. And they went, and came into an harlot's house, named Rahab, and lodged there.
Joshua 2:1
Ava handed her driver’s license to the SJL soldier manning the checkpoint in Utah, adjusted her thick black fake glasses, and ran her fingers through her, once again, too short, too black hair.
“Why didn’t you go to one of the refugee centers in Las Vegas? That would have been much closer for you.”
“We have friends in Hollywood. We were forced out of our homes by the fanatics in our town. I’ve always been against violence, so I wanted to come here.”
The man puckered his forehead and returned Ava’s ID. He stared at Ulysses’ ID a little longer. “And how do you two know each other?”
“We worked together at Dixie State University. I was an economics professor.”
“I taught literature.” Ava smiled.
The guard passed Ulysses’ ID back to him. “Isn’t Dixie State a Mormon college?”
“Not anymore,” Ulysses answered. “The Utah Board of Education took it over in 1935.”
“You’ll have to have your Social Value Audits before you can get passes to Los Angeles. The citizens of LA mostly scored well above five. So, we haven’t had to send very many residents to education centers. We really don’t have a need for citizens here. Have you considered settling in Texas? The leader is anticipating a high failure rate out of the Texans who required level-one and two education programs. That equates to lots of openings for favored citizens. The state will be allocating housing as well. Many of those people who won’t be returning from their educational programs have left behind very nice homes.”
Ava shook her head and tapped her index finger against her chest. “I supported the leader all the way through the primaries. And in an area where it was not a popular thing to do. I risked my life by being very vocal about my politics.
“I’ve been called a murderer for my stance on abortion, I’ve been threatened over my staunch arguments pushing for gun control in my community. And my job as a professor of literature. I shudder to think where the country would be today were it not for the literary contributions of like-minded Americans who challenged the antiquated notion of some mystical God who created the world and everything in it.
“I tell you, literature has done more to debunk the tyranny of absolute moral truth and replace it with personal subjectivity than Darwin and modern science ever could! I’ve made my sacrifices and I am entitled to a seat at the table!”
The guard nodded. “You can request an expedited SVA. If you score a nine, you can petition for placement in the service sector. If you score a ten, you’ll automatically qualify for the service sector. Or you can apply to join the SJL as an auditor.”
“What about me?” Ulysses put his thumb to his chest. “I almost lost my job because a handful of parents opposed me using Rules for Radicals as supplemental curriculum in my economics course. Thankfully, the board backed me up on the premise that the book deals with how low-income communities gain political power, despite not being from privileged families. The whole reason I went into economics was soI could teach our youth the evils of capitalism. I certainly deserve favored status.”
The soldier nodded again. “Unfortunately, without a pass to get into the city, the closest SVA center for you is in Santa Clarita. Go there and apply for an expedited audit. I’m sure everything will work out for you both.”
Ava dared not thank the man for the information. No bona fide snowflake would ever do a thing like that. Instead, she shrieked a loud cry of frustration like a spoiled two-year-old. She pulled her own hair and stomped off from the checkpoint in a tantrum.
Ulysses rushed after her like an enabling fellow revolutionary, hurrying to validate her adolescent outburst.
Once they were out of earshot, Ulysses said, “That was a disturbingly good performance.”
She waved her hand. “Once you learn to control your gag reflex, the rest is easy. But you played your part well, also.” She took out her burner phone. “I better get us an Uber so we can get to Santa Clarita and get a hotel for the night. We didn’t count on the efficiencies of communism when we planned our trip.”
Monday morning, Ava and Ulysses stood in line at the Social Value Audit office which had been erected pop-up style in a recently vacated church. Since church attendance immediately qualified citizens for residential educational programs, congregants either quit going or were relocated to a camp.
“$37.50 for an expedited audit?” Ava whined. “We’re refugees of the war!”
The woman behind the desk replied curtly, “We can provide you with transportation to a relief center in Nevada. Unfortunately, since California isn’t a border state, we don’t have any relief centers set up here.”
“You’re aware that transporting us to a relief center in Nevada will cost way more than $37.50, aren’t you?”
Ulysses kicked her foot. She quickly realized that she’d just tried to use logic on
an indoctrinated socialist. What was I thinking? I could have blown the whole operation!
The clerk stared at her blankly. Fortunately, Ava’s comment hadn’t seemed to interrupt the woman’s zombie-like condition.
Ava dug through her purse and retrieved the credit card with the same name as her ID. She handed it to the woman.
“I’ll need you to fill out this authorization form allowing me to research your social media history.” The woman gave Ava a pen with the document.
Ava knew better than to point out the absolute hypocrisy in having her fill out an authorization form for an expedited audit when the government required no such permission to execute a regular audit on their own timeline. Like a compliant communist, she simply began filling out the paper. “About how long does the expedited audit usually take?”
“Three to five days,” said the woman dryly.
“Will your office forward the audit to LA for us? We’re trying to get passes into the city. We have friends there.”
“The SVA office is federal. We don’t have any connection with state or local jurisdictions. You’ll have to handle that on your own.”
“Oh. Okay.” Ava completed her form quietly, then waited for Ulysses to finish filling out his authorization papers.
“How will we be notified when the audit is completed?”
“We’ll send you an email. It will have a case number that you can reference when other government agencies are involved.” The woman looked past Ava and Ulysses, signaling that their time with her had expired and there would be no other questions. “Next!”
Ava assumed expressions of gratitude were neither expected nor welcomed, so she stood up abruptly and headed for the door.
Once outside, she looked at her father. “We’ve got a couple of days to kill. Do you want to do some sightseeing?”
“No,” he answered. “We need to stay in our hotel room, keep a low profile. Your disguise is good, but the more people who see you, the higher our chances of someone recognizing you. We’ll order in as much as possible. If you start feeling claustrophobic, maybe we can step out for dinner tomorrow night, but for the most part, we’ll stay out of sight and out of mind.”
She opened the Uber app on her phone and requested a ride. “Okay. But sitting around twiddling my thumbs isn’t going to help my nerves. I’ll be obsessing over the operation.”
“I’ll get us some cards, maybe a puzzle or two. We’ll keep our minds occupied.”
“We passed a hobby store on Old Road. Maybe you could pick us up some board games.”
Ulysses smiled warmly. “I missed out on buying you toys and things. I’d like that.”
Ava fought to not get choked up over the sentimentality of his statement. “Great. What are we having for lunch?”
“Looks like mostly fast food around the hotel. That sub shop might be the least-bad option.”
“A sub is fine with me. Seems the regime states aren’t as affected by the war. I haven’t seen many restaurants or grocery stores closed down.”
“They might be out of a few items here and there, but they’ve got all the seaports. Supply disruptions will be minimal.” Ulysses waved at the Uber driver as he pulled up.
Ava didn’t feel like putting on the pretense for the Uber driver so neither she nor Ulysses talked on the way to the hotel.
When they arrived back in their room, Ava reclined on the bed and turned on the television.
“I’ll get those games and some lunch. I’m going to walk so I might be a while. I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay, be safe.” Ava flipped through the channels knowing her only choices were filth or propaganda. She opted for propaganda. The news told a disparaging tale of regime victories in southern Idaho, claiming that Markovich’s forces not only held the lower half of the state but that they’d also began a campaign to liberate surrounding states. Ava bit her nails as she listened to the reporter expound upon the regime’s invasion into Salt Lake City, Utah and Jackson, Wyoming. Her heart ached from not being able to send or receive messages from Foley.
Thursday morning, Ava checked her email. Four days had passed since applying for an expedited audit. “I got it! Did you get yours?”
“Let me see your computer.” Ulysses abandoned his microwaved sausage, cheese, and egg biscuit. He quickly logged into Paul Whitmore’s account. “Nothing. Maybe I’ll have it by the end of the day. What score did you get?”
“A nine. It’s not a ten, but at least I won’t have to go to a re-education camp.”
“You’ll never get a ten with an attitude like that.”
“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes.
“We should probably get your LA pass application started.”
“What about you?”
“We’ll start mine when I get my score, assuming it’s high enough to earn me a pass in the first place.” He handed the computer to her.
She navigated to the LA residential-and-visitor-pass website. “It’s down.”
“Imagine that. Why don’t you try calling them and see if they have a walk-in office?” Ulysses went back to his highly-processed breakfast sandwich.
“I can’t get the number with the site down. I’ll try the DMV.”
“Yeah, they’re masters of efficiency, I’m sure they’ll be able to help,” Ulysses said sardonically.
Ava looked up the number and called. “Hi, I’m trying to get the telephone number for the office that issues entrance passes for LA.”
“We don’t have anything to do with that office.” The person hung up.
“But . . .” Ava was too late.
Ulysses rinsed down his breakfast with a large single-serve chocolate milk. “Try City Hall, Clerk of Courts.”
Ava looked up the number and dialed. She pressed several buttons to traverse her call through a seemingly-unending list of options. “I’m on hold.”
Ulysses nodded and watched the morning news show on television.
Forty minutes later, a female voice said, “Clerk of Courts.”
“Hi, I just need the number for the LA entrance pass issuing office.”
“It’s on their website.”
“But the website is down!” Ava rejoined quickly before she was disconnected again.
The voice paused as if contemplating whether or not to just hang up on Ava. “Hold please.”
“What’s happening?” Ulysses asked.
“I’m on hold again.” Ava gritted her teeth.
“Just think, once all this is done with, it can take up to a week for the request to be processed.”
She shook her head. “Who would have ever thought that bureaucracy could be a form of defense.”
“How do you mean?”
“It’s actually these layers and layers of government red tape that are keeping us from our objective.”
Ulysses nodded. “It makes a good deterrent, but we’ll do what we came to do, one way or the other.”
Ava understood that if her father got tired of playing nice, the gloves would come off and he’d do whatever was necessary.
Five minutes later, the voice came back on the line. “424-399-4114.” Click. The woman hung up before confirming whether Ava had written down the number.
Ava quickly called the number. “Hi, I’m inquiring about getting a pass to visit my friends in LA.”
“Sorry, our website is down,” said a man with an effeminate voice.
“I know. But do you have a walk-in office where I can apply in person?”
“Yes, but it won’t do you any good. The website is down and we can’t work. Besides, we’re inside the city limits, so you can’t get to us without a pass.”
“Then how do people get their pass when it’s issued?”
“You don’t get a physical pass, it’s not like Willy Wonka’s golden ticket that you carry around in your pocket.” The explanation was condescending and impolite. “We simply use your social security number and it updates to your driver’s license.”
“I jus
t spoke with DMV and they said you’re not connected.”
“We’re not. It’s in the federal database.”
“But I’m a refugee, my driver’s license is from Utah.”
“Oh, good heavens!” The man sounded exacerbated from having to deal with an actual phone call, especially one from some refugee. “Then you’ll have to get a license from a state that still wants to be part of the country.” He hung up before Ava had a chance to pester him further.
She looked up at Ulysses. “Good news and bad news.”
“What’s the good news?”
“We get to go on a field trip, breathe a little fresh air.”
“Let me guess the bad news.” He pressed his lips together.
“Give it a shot.”
“Our outing entails waiting in a long line at the DMV.”
She pointed at him. “You’re good. You should’ve been a spy.”
He grunted. “It ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“Not even when it allows you to spend quality time with your favorite person?” She batted her eyelashes.
“Could have done that with a fishing pole by a lake if my favorite person wasn’t so stubborn.”
“Touché.” She requested an Uber on her phone and grabbed her purse. “Come on. The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll get back. We’ve still got that tiebreaker for Yahtzee.”
Ulysses grabbed the second laptop. It was reserved strictly for communications with the colonel. The battery was kept separate from the laptop and only inserted long enough to check the dead-drop email account. “I’ll see if we have any messages from Barr while we’re out.”
Ava instructed the driver to let them out at the coffee shop near the DMV.
They went inside. Ava ordered two coffees while Ulysses checked the drafts in the email account. Once she had the beverages, she brought them to the small table near the back of the shop. “Any news?”
Ulysses spun the computer to where she could see it.