Revolution

by Mark Church

  After stepping into the car, she finds that it’s still warm and smells faintly of Ken’s cologne. Its interior is very plush, which is a true luxury by today’s standards.

  The driver closes Hannah’s door before taking his position in the driver’s seat. Moments later they are underway.

  ✽✽✽

  The driver pulls the car to the curb in front of a large government building located in an area of Washington known as ‘The Hill’. This area is the government’s epicenter and boasts some of the nicest real estate in the city.

  The driver exits the still running vehicle before opening Hannah’s door. He offers her a hand to help her from the car, which she accepts.

  The driver points at the building directly in front of them and explains, “This is where I’ll take my leave. Congressman Klinton’s offices are in this building. You’ll enter through the double doors where you’ll find a guard station. Tell them who you are, and they’ll escort you to Congressman Klinton’s office.”

  “Thank you.” Hannah appreciates the driver’s friendly but dignified demeanor.

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” With a tip of his hat he turns and climbs back into the car, then pulls away from the curb.

  As Hannah approaches the entry doors, a wave of anxiety courses through her. It doesn’t stick around long but it serves as a reminder of the dead seriousness of the path upon which she is about to embark.

  Hannah straightens her posture and puts on her best poker face before pulling open the doors and entering the lobby.

  Just as the driver said, a guard station sits just inside the large entry hall. It spans the entire width of the lobby. The only access point is a gated area about the size of an open doorway. Numerous guards, two with dogs, eye her as she approaches the main desk.

  Hannah addresses one of the guards behind the desk, “Hello, I’m Hannah Iglesia. I’m here to see Congressman Klinton.”

  The guard nods as he checks his logs, “Good morning, Ms. Iglesia, we’ve been expecting you.”

  Hannah offers a courteous smile.

  The guard picks up the phone and announces Hannah’s arrival to someone on the other end of the line.

  “One moment, Ms. Iglesia,” the guard instructs Hannah. “Someone will be here to retrieve you momentarily. In the meantime, we’ll need to check your bags and you’ll need to go through our body scanner.”

  Hannah had the forethought to leave the phone that Eva gave her at home. Thankfully she anticipated something like this happening.

  A second guard asks Hannah for her purse before walking her to the body scanner. He begins rummaging through her purse as a third guard motions for her to walk through the scanner.

  When she arrives on the other side of the scanner the guard returns her purse, “You can have a seat on that couch until your escort arrives.”

  Hannah isn’t seated long before a young man in his early twenties, neatly dressed in a grey suit, appears from around the corner.

  The man approaches Hannah, “Ms. Iglesia?”

  “Yes,” replies Hannah shaking his outstretched hand.

  “Please come with me,” the escort requests. “Congressman Klinton is waiting for you in his office.”

  The two walk down the hall to a bank of elevators. The door opens when the escort presses the up button. After entering the elevator, the escort inserts a key into a locking mechanism and turns it before selecting the fourth-floor button. Hannah has been noting all of the security protocols since her arrival.

  The elevator begins its ascent shortly after the door closes. They stand quietly. The only noise is a beeping sound each time they reach a new floor.

  The elevator settles to a stop when they reach their floor. The door slides open to reveal a private hallway.

  “Come with me, please,” directs the escort.

  Hannah surveys the beautiful artwork that decorates the walls as she walks alongside the young man. She is no art critic, but she’s pretty sure many of these pieces had significant value at one time.

  When they reach a large, decorative wooden door at the end of the hallway, the escort presses an intercom on the wall and announces their presence. “Ms. Iglesia is here to see you, sir.”

  A buzzing sound is followed by a click in the door’s mechanism. The escort turns the door handle and pushes the door inward. He gestures towards the interior and says, “You may enter.” The escort pulls the door shut after Hannah steps into the room, leaving her by herself.

  Hannah scans the room. Its focal point is a large wooden desk with two heavy leather-bound chairs opposite the desk’s main chair. The grain and shade of the rooms wainscoting and bookshelves, match the desk perfectly. It’s apparent that people on ‘The Hill’ live an entirely different lifestyle than the rest of the population.

  Ken appears through an open door on the opposite side of the room. “Hannah, I’m so glad that you could make it.” He takes note of her tidy appearance and shining hair. Always looks like the perfect little teacher, he thinks.

  “Of course, I always follow through on my promises.” Hannah smiles in a manner she hopes conveys confidence.

  “And that’s one of the many things that I admire about you. How do you like my office?” Ken sweeps an arm to encompass the large, well-proportioned space.

  “Very nice. I didn’t know that places this nice still exist.”

  “More than you know. I’ll give you a tour after we’ve had a chance to talk. Please, have a seat.”

  Ken sits in the chair behind the large desk. Hannah takes one of the leather chairs across the desk opposite him.

  “Let’s get right to it,” starts Ken, “am I going to be happy with your answer?”

  “Today, yes. We’ll have to see if that still holds true down the road.”

  “That’s great news, and I’m sure you’ll be very happy with your decision, I know I am.”

  Ken begins droning on about how much fun it’s going to be to work together, and all Hannah can think about is how much he is going to eventually regret his decision to hire her.

  “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the facilities. Afterwards we’ll have lunch and then I’ll show you your new office where we’ll go over your new position.” Ken rises and leads the way through the door to the hallway.

  Ken introduces Hannah to various individuals on his floor before moving on to other areas of the building. She is introduced to congressional members and their aides as well as other pertinent personnel.

  Ken wraps up the tour at the building cafe. It bustles with the lunchtime crowd. Rows of buffet-style warming tables stretch from one side of the room to the other while an adjoining area serves as a large dining room.

  Hannah is taken aback by the abundance of food. Since arriving in DC she has never gone hungry, but the food quality and diversity is what shocks her.

  “Not a bad spread, huh?” Ken laughs at her expression.

  “It sure beats weekly rations.”

  “Rations are for the average citizens.” Ken rambles on, eager to impress her. “You’re one of us now.”

  “One of us?”

  “Yeah, the elites.”

  “And who are they exactly?”

  “Government personnel,” replies Ken confidently. “High ranking military. People who matter”

  “Don’t you feel a little guilty? I’m mean, most of DC’s general population subsists on modest rations.”

  “Why should I feel guilty? They wouldn’t have, as you call it, ‘modest rations’ if not for us. We provide the organization that makes all of this possible.”

  Hannah wonders if Ken really believes this or if he is just spouting the company line to appear as though he does.

  “But they are the ones who work the fields and toil in the power plants,” Hannah reminds him.

  “Yes, and they should be happy that they have a skill, or it could be much worse for them. They are provided with food, shelter, and a reasonable life, which is more than I can say for serve
rs.”

  “Servers? Don’t you mean slaves?” Hannah says this a little too sarcastically.

  Ken rejects the impulse to lash out at her flip comment and instead choses to redirect the conversation. “Let’s get some food and then we can talk some more.”

  After Ken and Hannah go through the buffet line, they sit at a private booth in the dining room. It’s a little awkward before Hannah reminds herself that her goal is to win Ken’s trust, and questioning his principles aren’t going to achieve that goal.

  In a much sweeter tone, Hannah breaks the ice by saying, “So – tell me more about my position.”

  Relieved that Hannah’s demeanor has softened Ken begins, “Not to reopen a can of worms but it’s important that you are onboard with our education objectives as it relates to our citizens.”

  “Of course,” says Hannah disarmingly. “I was just having a little fun with you.”

  Hannah does her best to look convincing as Ken searches her face for sincerity. While she may be falling a little short, his desire to believe her overshadows his objectivity.

  “Let’s shelve the teasing. That kind of humor doesn’t play to well here.”

  Feigning some level of regret and offering a mixture of contrition and less offensive humor, Hannah smiles and says playfully, “You’ve got it, boss.”

  “How do you know that you’d be reporting to me?”

  Knowing full well that this was likely part of the bargain Hannah replies, “Just a hunch I guess.”

  “Well, good. I hope that won’t be a problem for you.”

  “Why would it be a problem?”

  “Oh, you know. The whole mixing business with friendship thing.”

  “It won’t be a problem for me.” Hannah glances at him slyly. “I know how to keep things professional.”

  “Professional – right,” Ken displays an unsettling predatory smile. “While we’re at work anyway.”

  Hannah is forced to meet Ken’s suggestive smile with a tempered version of her own. She doesn’t ask for clarification because she knows that his intentions for her go well beyond professional. She only hopes that she can get the information that she needs before Ken begins pushing things too far, she’s willing to make sacrifices but she’s not willing to go ‘there’.”

  “After we finish eating, I’ll show you to your office where we’ll spend some time reviewing the specifics of your position.”

  “Perfect, I’m anxious to see my space and get situated.”

  The rest of the day is rather pleasant. After lunch, Ken shows Hannah her private office and provides her with more details about her role before being called away for a meeting.

  After he’s gone, Hannah takes a moment to explore her space. It isn’t nearly as big as Ken’s office, but it is nicely appointed and she has a window overlooking the city.

  She returns to her desk and begins to dig into the numerous binders of reeducation files on her desk. It’s apparent that her predecessor has already done a lot of work on the program, and it is fairly well developed.

  Reviewing the information confirms her suspicions. The program is nothing more than a brainwashing exercise to promote government propaganda. Average citizens are being targeted globally, not the server class but the skilled workers, the people the elites depend on to keep the cities not only running but also growing.

  Maintaining Ken’s trust while simultaneously attempting to thwart his plans will require all of Hannah’s wiles. Slow walking her work progress while deflecting Ken’s personal overtures will be no easy task but, in the end, she’s confident that she can pull it off.

  Hannah spends the rest of the afternoon in her office reviewing files. Since she hasn’t been formally oriented on office protocol, she’s not sure when the day ends nor how she is going to get home.

  Just as Hannah is about to leave the office to ask for some direction, Ken walks in. “Hey there, are you settling in okay?”

  “I managed to find the bathroom,” Hannah quips lightheartedly.

  “That’s progress,” Ken agrees jovially.

  “Yep, that’s kind of important.” Hannah is well served by her natural somewhat innocent demeanor.

  Ken’s tone turns apologetic, “My plans were to take you out again tonight to celebrate your first day however something out of my control has come up. How about a rain check?”

  “I don’t know if my social calendar has any opening,” Hannah deflects coquettishly, “it fills up pretty fast.”

  Playing along, Ken uses an insinuating tone, “I’m sure we can find a night in there somewhere.”

  With all the charm she can muster, Hannah agrees, “I’m sure we will.”

  “I have a few housekeeping items for you, I’ve arranged for a driver to be at your disposal. He’ll take you to and from work, and anywhere else that you need to go.”

  Ken fishes around in the breast pocket of his sports coat before producing a mobile phone and handing it to Hannah. “You’ll use this to reach him any time, day or night. His name is Peter and his number is programmed into the phone – it’s listed just below mine.”

  Surprised by Ken’s generosity, Hannah begins to ramble, “I don’t know what to say. That’s so…”

  “How about a simple thank you?” suggests Ken.

  “Um – thank you.”

  “The phone and the ride are just a few perks of this job. We’ll work on getting you a better place to live next.”

  Hannah is a bit overwhelmed. Yesterday she was just a simple schoolteacher and today she is an insider, with insider perks. She’d be a liar if she said she wasn’t a bit flattered and enticed by the glitz and glamor of her new position.

  “This is all happening so fast,” Hannah feigns confusion and excitement. “What about my teaching position at the school?”

  “I’ll notify them, you just focus on your work here.”

  “I’d like to at least drop by and say goodbye to my students and coworkers.”

  “I’ll tell you what. Have Peter take you there in the morning. You can get your personal items and say your goodbyes in person.”

  “I would like that.”

  “So, I’ll see you back here tomorrow afternoon, right?” confirms Ken

  “At the latest.”

  Looking down at his watch, Ken says abruptly as he heads for the door, “Gotta’ go. Have a nice evening.”

  “You too.” Hannah watches him stride out the door, leaving her alone in her new office.

  She sits back in her chair and looks out the window. Competing thoughts jockey for recognition. This place seems so normal, almost ideal until she considers the darkness lurking just below its surface. It’s obvious that the so-called public servants running the government are nothing more than totalitarian egotists misusing their citizens for personal gain, and she needs to do her part to right that wrong.

  Hannah dials her driver, Peter. It’s been a long day and she’s anxious to get home. When she gets there she’ll be making another call, on a different phone, this time to Eva. Not only will Eva be very interested to hear about these latest developments, Hannah needs to see a friendly face and confidant with whom to share her concerns.

  ✽✽✽

  General Gage’s clerk shows the Midwest battalion commander into the general’s office. The battalion commander salutes the general.

  “At ease. Have a seat.” Gage indicates the chair opposite his own.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I understand that your exploratory forces have encountered numerous rebel groups.” The general always makes it clear he knows everything that’s been going on.

  “That’s affirmative, sir. There seems to be a large concentration of rebel enclaves in the Ozark Mountain’s. Primarily, in Southern Missouri.”

  “How did you learn of these groups?”

  “Our exploratory forces encountered them during recon activities.”

  “Were they hostile?”

  “Yes. Our soldiers were forced to eng
age them on more than one occasion. We lost a few men in the ensuing battles.”

  “I see,” the general reaches into the humidor on his desk to extract two cigars. “Did we exact any casualties on the rebels?”

  “Yes, sir!” The commander sits up straighter and proudly announces, “We dished out a lot more than we took.”

  “Good,” Gage hands a cigar to the commander, “that gave them a little taste of what is to come.”

  “They got a taste, alright,” the commander sniffs the cigar appreciatively. I’m guessing they are still licking their wounds.”

  “We’re about a month away from our spring campaign to eliminate the rebels once and for all.” The general turns and looks at the wall hung map of the region in question. “Make your plans and prepare your soldiers, I want this to be over by early summer.”

  “We’ll be ready, sir.”

  The general produces a lighter and spins the striker to spark a flame. He reaches across the desk and offers it to the commander who puts the cigar in his mouth before leaning forward. The general touches the flame to the end of the cigar while the commander rolls it back and forth between his fingers so that it lights evenly. The general repeats the process on his own cigar and then leans back in his chair and expels a large cloud of smoke.

  Raising his cigar towards his subordinate, Gage proposes a toast, “Here’s to a swift and decisive victory.”

  The commander nods to the general and repeats the phrase, “To a swift and decisive victory.”

  The two men talk strategy while finishing their cigars. They are confident in the military’s ability to not only destroy the rebels in the US, but also around the world. The exercise to identify rebel strongholds has been going on globally, as geographically positioned military forces have been preparing for the final push. They expect that by mid-summer, most of the rebels will be eliminated. Those that manage to survive will live out the rest of their lives as servers, which is arguably an even crueler fate.

  The upcoming offensive is viewed by most in the military as a routine cleanup operation, one that will be met with limited resistance. The over-confident military leadership has lofty expectations, but they’ll soon find out that they have badly underestimated the will and determination of those that wish to remain free.