by Robert Boren
“The US Government is after them,” Rayan said. “That’s not the case with us.”
“Yes it is,” Jean said. “They just aren’t making it public. Why aren’t they going after the vigilantes who are trying to kill us? They know exactly where most of them are.”
“I know for a fact they don’t know where the principles are,” Rayan said. “If they knew, we’d know. Trust me on that. The Federal Government is still riddled with our operatives.”
“So what should we do?” Jean asked.
“Charles needs to talk to Maggie, and he needs to do it quickly,” Rayan said. “We’d all better hope she’s alive and lucid, too, or we’re done.”
“I still have my firm,” Charles said. “There’s lots of resources there which can be brought to bear.”
Rayan laughed. “There’s been injunctions filed against virtually all of your operations, Charles. Haven’t your people been talking to you?”
Charles sighed. “I didn’t let any of them know where I am or how to reach me. Thought it was safer.”
“It was safer, I suppose. No matter. You got the info indirectly, and that’s got to be good enough for now. Go talk to Maggie.”
The call ended. Charles picked up his phone and called Sebastian. The phone rang five times before he picked up.
“What’s up, boss? I’ve got my hands full.”
“What’s going on?” Charles asked.
“Citizens are assaulting the estate,” Sebastian said. “I’m by far the most experienced operations guy they have left. If we had American gun laws here, this place would already be overrun. The citizens are out for blood after those idiot cops shot up the civilians on Downing Street.”
“What about the local police?”
Sebastian laughed. “Don’t you know what’s going on? Nobody supports Maggie now, except for some members of the House of Lords and the Royals. That support won’t last long at this rate. They aren’t gonna chuck the entire government because of Maggie. No way, no how.”
“I need to talk to her.”
“Sorry,” Sebastian said, “Can’t help you there. Pound on the door and talk to whoever shows up, if anybody does. I gotta go.”
The call ended, leaving Charles white as a sheet.
“What the hell happened?” Jean asked.
“This estate is under attack. My chief of security is busy trying to defend the place. He said bang on the door until somebody comes… if somebody comes.”
“Shit, we’re gonna die down here.”
“No we aren’t. C’mon.” He walked towards the door and banged on it hard. Nobody answered. He waited for about five minutes, pacing, Jean leaning against the wall looking terrified. Then he banged on the door and waited again. Still nothing.
“This is a wood door,” Jean said. “We’ve got some pretty good silverware on the table there. If we could find something to use as a hammer with the knives, we might be able to get through to the lockset.”
Charles smiled. “Now you’re using the old bean. Let’s get to work.”
***
George, Heidi, Malcolm, Sam, and Erica came into the intel room.
“Get enough sleep?” General Hogan asked.
“No problem,” George said. “I’ve been up for a while, surfing on my tablet. Things are going crazy. Did Mr. White and Mr. Black get away clean?”
“Yeah,” General Hogan said. “Slipped out via the subway tunnel after they shut the trains down, then grabbed an Uber up top.
“Did you hear anything else about Justin and Katie?” Robbie asked.
“No, sorry,” Sam said. “I’m worried too. It’s been too long without any notification.”
“Anybody checked the drop box lately?” Malcolm asked.
“I’ll check it now,” General Hogan said, pulling his phone out. “There’s a message here. He opened it, reading, then looked over at Robbie with a grim expression.
“Oh, God no,” Robbie said. “No no no.”
“I’m sorry,” General Hogan said. “They were forced off the road. Only one person in the car survived.”
“Who?” Erica asked, starting to break down.
“Colleen,” he said.
Robbie rushed out of the room, Morgan getting up to follow him.
“Oh, no,” Jane said, getting up.
“No, honey, give them time,” Frank said, tears running down his cheeks.
“I’d better notify the others,” Sam said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Everybody from Dodge City was close to them.”
He pulled out his phone and sent a text, telling people to come into the intel room. They arrived quickly, and Sam gave them the news. The room was all sorrow and tears.
***
Lance was surfing the internet on his laptop, the TV running in the background, showing video of the riots in England. The door squeaked open, Victor coming down the steps.
“What’s up?” Lance asked, not looking away from his screen.
“You aren’t gonna believe this. Charles and somebody named Jean called me. They say they didn’t hit you, and they want to talk.”
Lance chuckled. “Oh, really now? They leave a number?”
“Yeah, I just texted it to you.”
“Oh, didn’t notice,” Lance said. “Charles is having some big problems. Injunctions have been slapped on most of his companies.”
“Really? Didn’t hear about that. It hasn’t been on the news.”
Lance grinned. “You’re forgetting who taught Jason Beckler how to hack back in the day. I reviewed the court documents, and just finished reading notes that the Livingston legal team took on the matters this morning.”
“Are you gonna give them a call?”
“Sure, why not? I don’t think Charles paid for that hit. It was somebody else, and I should’ve seen it coming.”
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” Victor said. “Have fun.” He left the bunker.
Lance opened the text message and tapped the phone number, making the call. It rang six times and then picked up.
“Hello. Who’s this?” Charles asked.
“Lance. What’s that hammering sound in the background?”
Charles chuckled. “That’s Jean. We’re locked in Maggie’s basement. Trying to get out using silverware and the arms from a chair.”
“Damn, you’re in worse shape than I am,” Lance said. “I know you didn’t order the hit.”
“Good,” Charles said. “You know who did it?”
“Been cruising the Reddit boards that the resistance uses. Somebody’s bragging about it on there. Stupid. They think nobody can see them.”
“The resistance? You mean that group that gave us all the trouble in the mid-Atlantic states?” Charles asked.
“Yep,” Lance said. “They figured they’d get us fighting amongst ourselves. I’d call that a big fail. How bad is your situation?”
“About one step shy of dire,” Charles said
“Hey, who is that?” Jean asked in the background.
“It’s Lance. Knock that off for a minute and I’ll put it on speaker. There was a click, ambient room noise coming over the speaker.
“Hi, Lance, how’s it going?” Jean asked.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Frenchman.”
Jean chuckled. “I’m the only Frenchman you know, I suspect.”
“Touché. I’m good, just about recovered from the shot to my arm. Sounds like you guys are trying a jail break.”
“The peasants are storming the Bastille,” Jean quipped.
“Figures you’d say it that way,” Charles said. “How many of the group defected?”
“They didn’t defect, exactly,” Lance said. “They ran. I know where most of them are.”
“Do tell. Maybe we can get them back together. There’s no way we’ll win this in pieces.”
“You heard about Mateo, I’m sure,” Lance said.
“Yeah, that sick cretin deserved it, as far as I’m concerned,” Charles said. “The
re must be a lot of sexual repression in the UN.”
“That’s an understatement,” Jean said.
“Are you free to move about?” Charles asked.
“No, not really. There’s an APB out on me, although I could show myself to the authorities and tell them I hid to prevent the attackers from finishing the job.”
“I’d start that with a phone call that can’t be traced, just in case,” Charles said. “They’ve put injunctions on most of my businesses, and I don’t even know what they think I’ve done wrong.”
“It’s the Feds,” Lance said. “Collusion with the enemy.”
“Shit. How do you know?”
“I hacked into your lawyer’s offices,” Lance said.
“That’s right, you’re good at that sort of thing,” Jean said. “Forgot.”
“I’m a little rusty, but it’s coming back fast, and security hasn’t gotten much better over the years. In some ways it’s easier, believe it or not.”
“How is it easier?” Charles asked.
“Everything is tied together now, plus you can use social media for clues. You’d be surprised what people will reveal to their friends there.”
Charles chuckled. “Well, here’s my suggestion. Assuming they aren’t doing to your firm what they’re doing to mine, I’d contact the authorities and come out of hiding, but have some good security with you at all times.”
“I’ve been watching for similar issues with my firm, but it’ll be harder for them to put two and two together, mainly because I wasn’t working the same angles you were. Good idea. I’ll do that, then contact the others and make them an offer they can’t refuse.”
“Now we’re talking,” Jean said. “We’d better get back to our jail break. If we can’t get out of here, you’ll be moving ahead without us.”
“If you’re at the Manchester Estate, you might be okay. Just saw video of the British army heading there to clear the rabble.”
“Oh, really?” Jean asked.
“Hope they aren’t coming to help the rabble,” Charles said. “Talk to you soon. Thank you, Lance. It was good to hear from you.”
“We’ll talk soon,” Lance said. The call ended. Lance leaned back in his chair and laughed, hard and loud.
***
Garrett walked into the saloon, a somber expression on his face, joining Willard, Elmer, Chet, Ed, and a few others.
“Losing people is getting kind of old hat,” Ed said. “We might want to stay around here for our own protection.”
“Damn straight,” Garrett said. “We’ve got enough supplies. No need to be running around.”
“Speaking of that, I invited somebody to come stay with us for a while,” Elmer said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Steely, I’ll bet,” Garrett said. “Great. I’ll protect him from reprisals. Have him bring the generator parts if they didn’t get shot up.”
“Way ahead of you,” Elmer said. “We gonna do a memorial?”
“I’d like to,” Willard said. “I feel so goldarn bad about this. Justin was a good egg, and Katie was a sweetheart.”
“I know,” Chet said. “This is really tough.”
Sid and Yvonne walked in.
“Figured you’d all be in here,” Sid said.
“The kids are taking this hard,” Ed said, “especially so soon after Tyler.”
“Wonder if this is the end of the enemy attacks here?” Yvonne asked.
“Time will tell,” Willard said. “If we can stay here and keep together, it’ll be a lot harder for them, at least.”
“Wonder if they’ve had any similar problems in Kansas?” Chet asked.
“Don’t know,” Garrett said. “I’d better go get Anna and Mia. Don’t like them out of my sight for long.”
***
Creighton and Langston were huddled on the third-floor balcony over a shop, one block away from the action, their location giving them a commanding view.
“This is getting completely out-of-hand,” Langston said, bringing his binoculars down from his eyes, handing them to Creighton, who put them to his eyes.
“You ain’t kidding, mate. They’re bunched up at the gate. Gonna be tough for the police to get in front of them now.”
Langston nodded. “That is a strong gate, at least. The throng of people won’t be able to breach it unless they bring in a vehicle and get to a good ramming speed.”
They watched as more and more citizens arrived, most of them standing across the street in the English drizzle. Suddenly several citizens brought over some wooden crates, piling them up against the brick fence, other men coming with grappling hooks and rope.
“They’re gonna try getting over the wall,” Creighton said. “Look at that.”
The crates were in place, one man climbing up, putting him half way to the top of the wall. He swung his grappling hook with the rope, the hook catching the top, the man pulling hard to test it, then climbing up. When his head came above the top of the fence, a shot rang out, hitting the man in the face. He fell to the ground, the crowd roaring with outrage.
“My God,” Creighton said. “Who the hell gave the order to shoot?”
“I can’t say I blame them at this point,” Langston said. “What the hell else are they supposed to do?”
Langston’s phone dinged. He looked at it, then glanced at Creighton. “They’re sending the damn military. Hope they do a better job than they did in London. That was disgusting.”
“Disgusting but not surprising,” Creighton said, handing the binoculars back over. “They were about to break into the PM’s residence.”
Langston sat up higher, straining his eyes. “Commandos up on the roof of the estate’s front building.” He put the binoculars back to his eyes. “They think the wall will get breached any second. They’re setting up to defend.”
“Look, there goes another guy up the wall,” Creighton said. “Using the same rope, carrying a club.”
“A lot of good that’s gonna do him.”
The man got part way up, then took off his hat, sticking it on the club and holding it up, bringing another shot, the hat flying off, the club falling from his hands.
“What good did that do?” Langston asked. “Just ruined a good hat.”
“Probably didn’t do the club much good either,” Creighton quipped. “Oh crap, look at that. Approaching from the street.”
They both watched as a delivery truck headed towards the brick wall, crossing over the last street, the driver rolling out, his legs narrowly missed by the rear tires. The truck hit the bricks, partially knocking that section of fence down, more fire coming from the commandos on the roofs.
“Molotov cocktails,” Langston said, pointing as several men ran towards the breach in the wall, all tossing their cocktails, one of them hit by fire through the broken wall, the others scurrying back to grab more bottles, lighting them on the way and tossing them.
Langston’s phone dinged again. He read it and laughed.
“What?” Creighton asked.
“You aren’t going to believe this.”
“Who was it?”
“Russell,” Langston said. “He just ordered us to kill Charles Livingston if we get inside. Maggie too. Then we’re to sneak away.”
“I don’t work for Russell.”
“Be that as it may,” Langston said. “Are you with me?”
“You think this is a good idea?”
Langston looked him in the eye. “These people are responsible for countless millions of innocent deaths. Are you with me?”
Creighton sighed. “Yeah, mate, let’s do it. There goes another truck, see it? They’ll breach the wall. How far away is that military column?”
“More than an hour.”
They watched as the second truck made a quick K-turn, pulling forward, then backing up full speed, the driver staying in place this time as the big truck rammed the brick wall, busting an entire section down, citizens flooding in around it, somebody tossing a Molotov cocktail ont
o the roof where the commandos were, a few catching fire, the others racing towards the trap door, not getting inside as a second cocktail hit.
{ 13 }
Thumb Drive
F rank stared at his screen, feeling hopeless.
“You okay, honey?” Jane asked.
“None of the companies these folks own put anything on their systems of use to us,” Frank said. “I think they learned from what the Mertins Corporation did.”
“Mertins Electronics was an active player in the conflict,” General Hogan said. “They were even setting enemy strategy. I doubt if any of these folks were doing that in a similar way.”
“One of them might have,” Malcolm said, turning from his laptop screen. “Lance Evans. You know who he is, right?”
General Hogan gave him a blank stare.
“His family is part of the clan that Jason Beckler was in. I didn’t make the connection until I got the name of the guy who saved Lance at Tavern on the Green.”
“What’s that you say?” George asked, coming in the door with Heidi.
“Lance Evans,” Malcolm said. “I was gonna bring this up, but figured I’d sit on it until our little job in Dulzura was finished.”
“Is he related to Sadie?” George asked. Heidi’s face went white.
“He’s almost certainly related, but I don’t know how close,” Malcolm said. “He’s the guy who taught Jason how to hack.”
“Uh oh,” Jane said. “How dangerous is he to us?”
“If we weren’t already being extra cautious, he’d be very dangerous,” Malcolm said. “He might have more links to useful data on his firm’s systems, but he’ll have layer upon layer of security. Hackers are good at security. They know the tricks.”
“We’re doing this wrong,” Frank said, leaning back in his chair, a smirk on his face. “Why didn’t I see it before?”
“What do you mean, honey?” Jane asked.
“We’re starting with the hardest targets first,” Frank said. “We’ve got names of the Mercs who got killed trying to take out Justin and Katie the first time, and I’ll bet we could get names of the folks who showed up at Steely’s store as well.”