Cry Havoc

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Cry Havoc Page 6

by A. American


  The elevator stopped and they were once again in the basement of the bank, in the mechanical space. Daniel looked out into the cavernous space filled with the noise of the many machines that keep such a large building functioning and asked. “Has it ever been used?”

  Bob laughed. “Oh yeah. It’s been used. But not as a shelter. More as a love shack.”

  “Love shack?” Daniel asked.

  “Yeah. Some of the muckity mucks have used it a time or two to.” Bob looked up and rubbed his chin. “How should I say it? Interview perspective young ladies.”

  Daniel was shocked. From what he knew of all the suits that worked in the bank, they were all stiff as a board and had no personality at all. “Really? You mean….” Daniel started to ask.

  Bob smiled and said, “Wanna see the video?”

  The image of the line of large oil paintings lining the lobby wall flashed into his mind. All those pasty-faced balding old men. Daniel’s face contorted. “Hell no!”

  Bob started to laugh. “Neither did I! But it keeps those fat asses in check.”

  Daniel followed Bob across the mechanical space to a door Bob unlocked with a physical key. Thinking that was odd, he asked Bob why the door didn’t have a card reader.

  “This space is designed for use during power outages and such. So a card reader wouldn’t work.”

  Making sense, Daniel nodded and followed him in. Bob flipped a switch and fluorescent lights flickered and came to life, revealing a large room filled with evenly spaced cots.

  “Oh, this is lovely,” Daniel said sarcastically.

  Bob chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, Sport. You don’t have to stay here.” And he started across the large room.

  Daniel shot him a look. “Sport?”

  As he walked, Bob pointed out the bathroom facilities. “Over there are the shitters and showers.”

  Daniel looked over to see essentially a locker-room style shower arrangement. Sinks lined one wall, with mirrors over each. The only hint of privacy was the partitions separating the toilets.

  “Nice and private. I like it.”

  Bob grunted. “Don’t worry, Champ. You don’t have to stay there.”

  The comment irked Daniel. “Champ?”

  At the far end of the dormitory-style area was another door that they passed through. It led into a long hallway with doors off to either side. At the far end of the hall was an open door with light spilling into the dark corridor.

  The two walked down the hall to the open door. Bob poked his head in and pronounced. “He’s not here.”

  Daniel looked around Bob into the small room. These were very much like a college dorm room. A single bed sat against the wall with a small dresser and night stand. A flat screen TV was mounted to the wall. An open door led to the private bath. Daniel looked at the soiled bed. A large dark area roughly the size of a man took up most of the sheet. Empty fast food wrappers littered the floor beside the bed along with empty plastic two-liter Dr Pepper bottles. The room was a mess. Daniel looked at the TV to see the frozen image of a naked woman.

  “What the hell? Is there some bum living in here?”

  Bob shook his head. “Nah. Gene stays here from time to time.”

  “My early opinion of Gene is quickly changing.”

  Bob laughed, slapping Daniel on the back. “Don’t worry about Gene. He’s a good guy. Pick any of these rooms. You and Gene are the only ones down here.” “Here’s the key to the door.”

  Daniel pocketed the key and glanced back into the room again. “I think I’ll stay down there,” he said as he headed back to the opposite end of the hall.

  “It’s here if you need it,” Bob said.

  The next day many of the employees of the bank were turned away at the door. As the network was still down and there was no certainty as to when it would be back up, many of them would have nothing to do. The exception was for customer service agents. In the coming days they would face an onslaught of angry, desperate customers. There were meetings galore at the bank, not only at the bank Daniel worked for, but many others.

  While Daniel managed to disconnect his network from the world, the damage was already done. All those connections to the internet, other banks and, the most damaging of all, the Federal Reserve, served to spread the virus literally at the speed of light. All over the country and in some places around the world, banks were in full panic. In an effort to calm the panic, two days after the initial incident, the White House came out with a statement that all electronic financial transactions were going to be suspended.

  The statement went on to assure people that their accounts were backed by the Federal Government, and order in the financial markets would soon be restored. What it didn’t say was that the real reason for the “temporary halt” was to stop the slide of the US markets, which had already lost over twenty percent in the past two trading days. Efforts were being made to determine who was behind the event, but at the moment it was almost a moot point, at least to most Americans.

  It was these Americans, the ones that to this point that had maintained their lives in as normal a routine as they could, and now were added to the already disgruntled masses in the streets. Most people had no way of purchasing anything. If you didn’t have cash or convince a merchant to take a check, there was no way to buy. For most people, it meant that within twenty-four hours they were for all intents and purposes broke. The frog started to notice the change in the water temp.

  Much to Daniel’s relief, he didn’t have to stay at the bank. The other side of that coin was that, unlike most other bank employees, he had to come to work. The fact that his credit cards or his debit card didn’t work didn’t matter that much to him. After all, he worked for the bank. And while they didn’t have unlimited amounts of cash, there was a substantial amount of it securely locked up in the basement of the bank. Arrangements were made for bank employees to receive cash from their accounts over the counter. The banks doors may have been closed to the public, but they were open for those inside the banking community.

  Chapter 3

  It was on the third day after what was now being called the “Financial Holiday” that Daniel started to have trouble. He was on his way to work when a crowd of people was blocking an intersection. They were accosting drivers as they tried to make it to their destinations. Daniel was third in line at the light when the crowd spilled out into the road. Like ants, they spread out in all directions, enveloping cars. Those unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle of the intersection suffered the worse.

  When they started breaking out windows and pulling people out of their cars, Daniel quickly checked the mirrors, looking for an escape. He was in the right-hand lane, a large planter separating him from a parking lot. Daniel quickly backed the van as much as he could; those behind him were also looking for a way out. The van was big and powerful, with large bumpers on either end. Shifting into four-wheel drive, he was able to climb the planter into the parking lot.

  The rest of the way to the office he never stopped again, bypassing traffic lights by using parking lots, or simply running them after slowing to make sure there was no cross traffic. The bank had taken on the appearance of a fortress. All first-story windows and doors were protected with the same kind of roll-down doors as the entrances to the parking garage. Pulling up to the garage entrance, he quickly swiped his card and waited nervously as the door rolled up.

  This time, he didn’t park under the building; he went to the top deck, waving at the uniformed, and now armed, security officer stationed on the first level. He parked in a spot on the edge, looking east. It was early, and as he leaned against the wall looking out across the area, he could see and smell acrid smoke. It was rising in several places. And the sirens, which had of late become omnipresent, seemed to be everywhere at once. The wails and warbles
bounced off the buildings from all directions.

  From his rooftop perspective, he could see a crowd that was just coming around a corner two blocks away. It was made up of people of all types, but was just what the movies always depicted. Shouts and the sounds of breaking bottles added to all the sirens to create a morbid symphony of noise. Daniel shook his head, looking at the crowd. Then he went to the van and grabbed the messenger bag. After closing the door, he noticed that the big square cap that sealed the end of the front bumper was jutting out. He stepped towards it and gave the cap a light kick. It didn’t budge, and he smiled as he headed for the stairs.

  A pedestrian bridge tied the building to the garage on the fourth level, he took the stairs in no real hurry and came out on the fourth deck, taking the bridge over the street below into the building. Another guard was stationed just inside the building, also uniformed and armed. At first, the appearance of uniformed men with pistols and shotguns had caused much concern amongst the mild-mannered folks working in the building. The complaints reached the point that some asked that they be kept out of sight; but as the rioting worsened around the building, the complaints disappeared.

  Daniel went to the little concession stand located just past the bridge. It had the usual array of items any hip suburbanite would appreciate, Starbucks coffee, bagels and pastries and even a decent deli. He grabbed his morning Mountain Dew from the case by the register, paid using his employee ID, another nice feature of working for the bank, and headed for the elevators. According to what had become his new routine, the first stop was Bob’s office.

  There was no real reason for him to go up there every day; it had just become the routine. He would go up there and hang out with Bob for an hour or so, watching the monitors and talking about what was happening in the world. One of the biggest benefits of this new routine was that it really pissed off Malcolm, who tried to put a stop to it. But Bob pulled rank on him and the issue went away.

  Daniel flopped into a chair across from Bob’s desk. The ever-present ashtray was now overflowing with butts, a ring of fine ash surrounding the tray. The principle of maximum angle of repose had been exceeded. Numerous coffee cups littered the desk as well, some having been there so long a brown ring showed around the bottom where coffee was soaking through.

  “Bob, you look like shit. When was the last time you actually slept?”

  Bob held up an empty cup without looking up from the monitor. “I just finished another two hours.”

  “When was the last time you left this place?”

  “And go where?” Bob asked as he picked up and shook the various cups.

  “Home? To get some sleep?”

  “I should have you over some day. You’d understand.” Bob found a cup with liquid in it and swished it suspiciously.

  “Guess I’ll head downstairs and wallow in Malcolm’s neurosis,” Daniel said as he stood up to leave.

  Bob looked up. “Before you go, shut the door real quick.”

  Daniel pushed the door closed and looked back at Bob.

  “You remember when I asked if you had any guns?” Bob asked as he rocked back in his chair, putting his feet up on his desk.

  “Yeah. Told you I sold ‘em all.”

  “Yeah, bullshit, whatever, I would recommend you bring one if you’ve got it. Things are getting pretty shitty out there and it may become an issue.”

  Daniel wanted to tell him so bad that he still had his carbine and Glock, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it yet. “Yeah, well, I wish I did. You got any?”

  Bob smiled and swung his feet off the desk with what seemed an excessive amount of enthusiasm. Standing up, he went over to the safe and dialed in the combination. Bob pulled the door open, then removed a padlock and opened an interior door. He then stepped aside to reveal the contents of the safe.

  “Holy shit, Bob!”

  Something resembling a smile cracked Bob’s face. “You like?”

  Wide – eyed, Daniel stepped towards the safe. “Who wouldn’t? How – how in the hell do you still have these?” Looking back at Bob, “Aren’t you worried about getting arrested?”

  Bob crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the floor. Sweeping the toe of his shoe, in desperate need of a shine, across the stained carpet, he replied, “Well, there’s an exemption for law enforcement.”

  A little confused, Daniel asked, “You still a cop?”

  “Retired.” Bob replied before flashing another smile.

  “And it applies to you as well?”

  “Membership has its benefits, don’ cha’ know.”

  Turning back to the safe, Daniel began to take a closer look. “What kind of ARs are those?”

  “There are three Patriot Ordnance Warhogs, two Mossberg 500s and a few Sigs, plus enough ammo to feed them for a while.”

  “Damn. That’s a hell of a collection.” Daniel replied, shaking his head.

  “That’s not my collection. My collection wouldn’t fit in that safe.”

  Daniel stood there, stunned for a moment. Before he could say anything, a voice from the control room called out. “Hey, Bob. You need to come see this.”

  Daniel and Bob walked out to the dark room illuminated only by the wall of monitors. “What’s up, Andy?” Bob asked as they came in.

  One video feed suddenly filled the entire wall. It was a view of the street in front of the bank that was filling with people. It was obvious these people were pissed, the epitome of a riot in its infancy. The camera panned back and forth, taking in the whole street. Off in the distance, they could see fires, dumpster fires from the look of it. The crowd farther out was larger, and it looked as though it was moving to the business district.

  “Damn, this isn’t good,” Bob said to no one in particular.

  “What ‘cha want to do?” Andy asked.

  “Nothing. Just watch it. I’m gonna go talk to the brass,” Bob said as he headed for the door. “Daniel, come with me.”

  The request caught him off guard. “Sure” was all he replied, taking one more look at the screen as he turned to follow Bob out of the office.

  Waiting in front of the elevator, Daniel asked, “Where we going?”

  “I’m going to talk to the execs. I want to shut the building down today, and call off the staff before any more of them get in.”

  “You think it’s gonna get that bad?”

  “I hope not. But I’d rather not have a couple hundred people here to worry about if it does.”

  “Why am I coming with you?”

  That shady smile cracked Bob’s face again. “Spread your social circle; meet some interesting people.”

  The ding announced the elevator and the door opened. Gene was standing in the car behind a cart eating a sandwich with his right hand, a rubber glove on his left.

  Daniel noticed the cart was loaded with all manner of apparatus for unclogging toilets. Daniel took another look at Gene, the mustache moving up and down, then the sandwich.

  “Hey, Gene. How you doin’?” Bob asked as they stepped in.

  Swallowing a mouthful, he replied. “Same ole shit.”

  Bob laughed, looking down at the cart. “So it seems.”

  “I don’t know why these prim and proper ladies insist on flushing their damn harpoons down the toilet,” Gene said as he stuffed the last bite of the sandwich in his mouth.

  “Harpoons. Never heard ‘em called that before,” Bob replied with a laugh.

  Gene just shrugged his shoulders, pulled a comb from his shirt pocket and ran it through his mustache. Replacing the comb in his pocket, he pulled the rubber glove back on his left hand. “What’r y’all up to?”

  “Going up to talk to the brass. We may need to shut the building down. Looks like there’s a riot brewing.”

&nb
sp; “Good. I hope they do. I could use a break.”

  The car stopped and Bob told Gene he would talk to him later. Daniel nodded at Gene as he stepped off the elevator. Once the door shut, Daniel looked over at Bob. “I can’t believe he was eating a sandwich after plunging a toilet.”

  Bob laughed. “Yeah, that’s Gene. He’s a real piece of work.”

  Daniel’s face turned sour. “That’s just friggin’ nasty.”

  Bob let out a loud laugh, slapping Daniel on the back. They came to a door at the end of the corridor and Bob went through it with Daniel following. They stepped out into an opulent sitting area, nothing like the part of the building he worked in.

  “Holy shit. Where are we?” Daniel asked.

  They were walking towards a large mahogany desk where a very attractive blonde was seated.

  “Welcome to the den of the beast. You smell that?”

  Daniel looked around. “Smell what?”

  “Bullshit.”

  The blonde looked up and a brilliant smile flashed across her face. “Why, hello, Bob.” She stood and walked around the desk, wrapping her arms around Bob’s neck. Once in the embrace, Bob turned slightly so Daniel could see him. He crossed his eyes and lolled his tongue from his mouth; and with his left hand, he patted her back, while with his right hand, he mimicked squeezing her ass.

  Daniel stood there bug-eyed. “Tiffany, so good to see you.” The girl stepped back, flashed the smile again and looked at Daniel. Bob caught on and introduced him. “Tiff, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is Tiffany.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She replied, offering her hand, which he took, holding her eyes just a moment longer than business etiquette dictates.

  Bob broke up the moment. “Tiff, is your boss in?”

  She let out a huff of a breath before heading back around the desk. “Yeah, he’s here. But he’s busy with everything going on.”

 

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