The Suns of Liberty (Book 2): Revolution
Page 16
Revolution didn't answer either of them immediately. He just stood there in silence. Then he turned toward Ward. “Well, you met one of them today. In fact, he’s on his way right now to give us a report,” Revolution said.
“War is coming, sooner or later” Leslie said. “That’s what Lantern’s going to tell us. I’m sure of it. I think State Street has forced Sage’s hand. Once they realize there is no weapon, they’ll start mobilizing for real. These militia attacks have bought us some time, but it won’t last forever. We’re going to need the kind of publicity these militias have gotten. If we initiate the Minuteman program, we could redirect these militia groups to join the Minutemen. We’re going to need foot soldiers eventually anyway. And we can redirect any suspicion to the Minutemen if any militia actions go south in the meantime.”
“Wait, I've got you now,” Ward said. “The Minutemen were volunteers for the Revolutionary Army against the British. Seventeen-seventy-six and all that. You're talking about calling up volunteers for a similar type of force.”
“Seventeen-seventy-four actually, but yes,” Revolution said. “A program of volunteers that we’ve been working on for a while now. Not unlike the original Minutemen.” Then he turned to Leslie. “Only as a last resort. We need the Minutemen to trust us.”
Ward wondered why, if he was so big on trust, Revolution had failed to trust Fiona. Or maybe he had learned his lesson? Somehow he doubted it. Revolution seemed like a man whose mind was made up.
“True. They'll be a coup, propaganda-wise,” Leslie said, like she was thinking out loud. “But if these Suns groups do something we don’t like, we can more easily disavow them if we are the Suns of Liberty, too. We'll have a claim to the name. As it is, these militias are out of our control, but also part of the movement. It could be lose-lose for us if something goes wrong.” She glanced at both of them. “We need to claim the name.”
Revolution thought for a moment. No one said anything. Ward was confused again, but he kept quiet.
“Paul can cover the air,” Revolution said finally. “We need sea, especially for the harbor. We need intel. And I will need someone with logistical experience for the field.” Leslie nodded as if they were sharing some secret language. Ward could tell they knew each other well enough to anticipate the thoughts of the other. But it was like he was no longer in the room.
“We're short on firepower,” Leslie said. “We can't count on...” She stopped herself. Ward wondered if she was thinking of Fiona. Instead, she said, “San Francisco maybe?”
“Maybe.”
Ward had no idea what that meant.
“You’re right. We should fortify Boston anyway. Once they trace the rumor, they'll find us. Bringing all the assets here under one roof makes sense now,” Revolution said.
Ward wondered if the Council traced that rumor to whatever source had placed it originally, would they also find Alison? The thought filled him with dread.
Just then someone stepped to the doorway. He was handsome with short, black hair and a stylishly scruffy five o'clock shadow. He seemed to be waiting for an answer. Leslie motioned for him to come in. “Paul Ward,” she said, “meet one of our other assets.” Ward rose to shake his hand. The first thing he recognized was the strange helmet the man held at his side. Then he noticed the coat. He was Mr. Leather Jacket from the car ride.
“Hi. Paul Ward. Nice to meet you. I'm the guy they call Spider Wasp.”
Finally, Leather Jacket spoke to him, just barely.
“I know.”
He wasn't rude. Just matter-of-fact.
“This is Diego Alvarez, but we call him Lantern,” Revolution said. “Even in here.” Lantern nodded slightly as Revolution introduced him. Ward thought he was either shy, distracted, or just disinterested. He couldn’t tell which. “We only use call signs outside these walls,” Revolution added. “So, you’re Paul in here, but You’re Spider Wasp out there. But as far as the rest of the world knows, Diego Alvarez died a long time ago, and we want to keep it that way. So, he’s Lantern all the time. ”
“I won't say a word,” Ward said. “Especially on long car rides.” Rim shot!
Lantern zipped Ward a polite half grin. Between Revolution and this Lantern guy, a lot of good jokes are going to go to waste, Ward thought.
“What did you find?” Revolution asked.
Lantern’s face fell grim. “Worse than we thought, sir. Mobilization at every base along the Eastern Seaboard. Guard stations too.”
“The Council and the military?” Leslie seemed shocked by this.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s an invasion,” Revolution said flatly. “So much for the militia’s buying us time.”
“It looks preparatory, sir,” Lantern said. “Could be a month from now, could be six months. Not immediate.”
“That’s your judgment?” Revolution asked.
“That’s my observation. Yes, sir.”
Ward wondered why Lantern had felt the need to make the distinction.
The room fell quiet.
Leslie scribbled something. She looked up and said, “Here are the others I think we should pull in.” Leslie slid a handwritten list across the table to them. The words on the list meant nothing to Ward:
Saratoga
Helius
Hunley
Stealth
Revolution studied the list then nodded. “Agreed. If we do this, we'll need them quick. I don’t want to take any chances,” he said, glancing back toward Lantern.
“Hollis is in the Black Sea doing salvage,” Leslie reminded him.
“He was. He's back in Norfolk,” Revolution said. Leslie nodded and seemed relieved.
“The Director’s a hard call, I admit,” Leslie said. “We lose more with him than any of the others.”
“I think it’s time. But let’s let him make that call. It would give the Council quite the headache to have him come in from the cold, though,” Revolution said.
“More code names? Who are they? Folks from the hero movement?” Ward asked. Helius. That sounded familiar. He racked his memory. It was coming back to him. A vigilante. From the West Coast, he thought. Wanted for murder, if he recalled.
No one said anything. Ward turned to the newcomer. “Okay. What does Lantern mean then?”
Lantern glanced over at the Revolution, who nodded to him. Lantern pulled out his little device again. He punched a few buttons, and the aqua-blue 3-D display beamed back to life. This time the holograph just floated in midair a foot in front of him. Ward could tell the small image was shifting and moving, but just as in the car, he couldn't make it out. It looked like Lantern was fast-forwarding through a movie. After a few moments it stopped. Lantern hit another button, and the entire image exploded in size, filling up the room. To Ward's shock, they were all standing in a life-size digital replica of his own workroom. Lantern pointed to a fuzzy blob on the digital image of his work desk, which Ward just happened to be standing right in front of.
“Look there,” Lantern said.
The fuzzy image slowly cleared. Clean, precise lines materialized. Ward recognized it immediately. It was the morning paper he had been reading prior to coming to the meeting. To his shock, even the headlines on the paper sharpened into focus. And then the bylines of the reporters. Then the small type of the stories. The photos were blurrier, but legible.
“Lantern has a real-time satellite uplink to just about every structure in Boston. He's a light in the darkness,” Leslie said, smiling.
“This is the digi-sphere,” Lantern said, indicating the giant holograph they were all standing in. He was still all business and clearly more interested in his toys than in the people around him. “All-terrain, three-dimensional sonar.”
Ward just looked around in genuine amazement. “I, uh, put people to sleep.”
Drum roll please.
“I did find a more immediate concern,” Lantern said, turning to the Revolution, completely ignoring Ward's joke.
“Oh no.” Ward tried agai
n. “You’re not going to play back a feed of me in the shower this morning, are you? Because I can explain that...”
Still nothing. His jokes were dying right along with the right to privacy. Then Ward noticed Leslie’s shoulders shaking as if she were suppressing a giggle. He could take some solace in that, he supposed.
Lantern fiddled with the device, and after a moment, a new, smaller holograph sizzled to life in front of them. It was Boston Harbor. “Take a look.” The once majestic harbor was bare of commercial or recreational ships, something that was commonplace since the Resistance had come to Boston. He zoomed in on three large destroyers anchored in the harbor. Ward marveled at the detail.
“I think that might be more fight than we're looking for,” Revolution said.
“They’re not what they seem.” His scan suddenly ghosted into one of the ships. They were inside it. This time, the image was not as clear as it’d been in Ward’s apartment, but Lantern's point was: this was no normal ship. It was full of nothing but high-tech equipment. No crew inside, no mess hall, no compartments, just equipment. Lots and lots of equipment.
“A massive surveillance system disguised as the one thing no one would dare want to mess with,” Leslie said.
Revolution stepped into the holograph. “Looking for us?”
Lantern shrugged. “No way to know for certain, sir.” He zoomed back out to a view of the whole harbor.
Revolution placed his titanium-gloved hand into one of the virtual destroyers as if it was resting in his palm. “I think they just tipped their hand.”
CHAPTER 34
NEW YORK CITY
A newspaper spun across the large, ornate table and landed right in front of the Chairman. The headline read:
FREEDOM COUNCIL STOCK DOWN 25%.
Ivan Prince, CEO of General Defense, Inc., a heavyset man in his early sixties with a bulldog face, was livid. His crisp British accent clipped every word. “Unacceptable! Twenty-five percent decline! For this board? That's unprecedented!” He sat at the large table in the large room with large and expensive art hanging everywhere. Solid gold furnishings surrounded them. The finest of everything.
In a meeting room.
Across the table from him, a slightly older and less heavy southerner named Sonny “Tex” Riley, the CEO of Imperial Petroleum, shared Prince's anger. “And it's a lot worse in some industries. Don't all have a monopoly, Mr. Media Corp,” he said in his thick southern drawl.
The Chairman raised his hands defensively.
“I understand. But caution is prudent. This Council exists because we exercise restraint. The days of the Purge are over. Besides, this makes our shares larger than ever. Mostly, this downturn has hurt the lower twenty-two. We can't lose our focus.”
Prince slammed his fist down on the table. “I've bloody well heard enough of your Velvet Glove talk. It's time for the Iron Fist!” Sage fought hard not to roll his eyes. Prince brought this old, tired debate out every time something went wrong. The Iron Fist would be good business for General Defense, of course, but bad policy. Fortunately, the Chairman knew himself to be a far superior negotiator. He'd anticipated their rancor.
“When's the weapon gonna be ready?” Riley asked more calmly in his silky, menthol-laden drawl, giving Prince an exasperated side glance. The Chairman was smooth, controlled in his response. He slid copies of a spreadsheet over to the two men. It contained the latest shares and voting power of the Freedom Council members.
COMPANY
AREA
VOTES
1
Media Corp
Telecommunications
1140
2
Imperial Petroleum
Oil and gas
829
3
General Defense
Weapons
500
4
Petro America
Oil and gas
167
5
American Oil
Oil and gas
152
6
Standard Energy
Conglomerate
150
7
Wexley Hathshire
Conglomerate
136
8
Universal Motors
Automotive
135
9
Edwards-Bradley
Information technology
126
10
UTT
Telecommunications
124
11
USA Bank
Banking
120
12
American Motor Company
Automotive
118
13
McCrery Corporation
Health care
108
14
Hewson
Agriculture
107
15
Horizon Communications
Telecommunications
107
16
Globe Finance
Financial Services
100
17
Kock Industries
Conglomerate
100
18
ABM
Information technology
99
19
Eagle Health
Health care
98
20
Care-Mart
Retailing
98
21
Standard Health
Health care
94
22
Bentley Faircloth
Banking
88
23
Worldgroup
Financial services
86
24
Guardian Limited
Consumer goods
78
25
USA Care
Health care
77
4937
“Soon,” he said. “All this has done is move our timetable up. We're still in control of events. And I want you to look at this new list. I've called you in here, gentlemen, because we three are now in a more advantageous position.”
Prince wasn't buying it. He knew too many vice presidents at General Defense that were angling for his seat. And just waiting for his next misstep. “Well, if events don't start moving in the right direction—namely up—I won't be in control of anything come the next quarterly earnings report.”
“And what about the Banking Consortium?” Riley asked.
“The banks are not a problem,” Sage said.
“These are the biggest banks in the world, Tom,” Riley said. “It’s not like they’re gonna just keep rolling over for us. They got plenty of other places to take their money.”
“I’m not so sure about that—” Prince tried to say.
“I know exactly who they are,” Sage snapped, momentarily losing his cool. But it came back to him like a swift breeze. “I made the Consortium. It was my idea, and they know that. They owe me, more than we owe them.”
“Just be careful,” Prince said. “The IOUs they hand out have interest rates. And let’s not forget the Europeans have turned away from the Consortium. China and India are all they have left besides us. They may be rich countries now, but their financial sectors still haven’t recovered either. I’m not sure they can sustain that degree of leverage. And that’s just more bad news for us. Bad news drives stocks down and our interest rates up.”
The Chairman pitched forward in his chair, a twinkle in his eye. “Well, I say we invest in a little good news then. These Suns of Liberty groups. It's time they make a bad mistake. As the largest shareholders, we three now have the votes to pass anything we want. The lower twenty-two have always lacked vision, lacked fortitude, lacked the will to do what was needed. We’ve got more than a fifty-percent control of the voting share of this Council now, gentlemen. I say we not waste any time in usin
g that control.” The Chairman slid another document across the table to both men. It was all black type. A scenario of some sorts. “Here, read this.”
The men read it.
Smiles eased across their faces, and they looked up. “I propose we cut off power to South Boston with quarantine and curfew. Let them taste what it's like to reap what they sow. First, we'll slow them down. Then we'll end them.”
The Chairman leaned back with a self-satisfied grin. He knew he had them. “All in favor?” All three raised their hands.
CHAPTER 35
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
CHINATOWN
Two Council Guardsmen slipped through light fog and banged on the door of a small shop. The sun would be setting within the hour. The dimming light danced off the petite windows. Inside, the shop owners—an elderly couple—huddled in the dark, trying not to be seen. The old man adjusted a bandage that clung to his badly bruised eye. His assailants were back demanding more cash in exchange for protection.
“Open the fucking door!” the bigger of the two spat at them. As the ranking Guardsman, he was clearly in charge.
There was no response from inside.
“They probably don’t even speak English,” his partner sneered.
“I'll kick the goddamn thing—” The ranking Guard’s words were cut short by a dark figure that blinked into his peripheral vision. Someone concealed in shadow, hands on hips, one hundred feet away. Just looking at them, not moving. A defiant silhouette.
People knew better than to hang around and watch Council Guard at work. The days of shooting a cell phone video of the Guard were long since over. Unless you didn’t mind getting your nose kicked in.
“Hey, you!” the big one yelled to the figure.
“Yeah, come over here,” the other said.
But the stranger disappeared around the corner.
“Might as well come out. If we have to come get you, it won't be pleasant.”