by B. C. Tweedt
“Can’t we tell them the truth?” Drake asked.
SmokeStack sighed. “Ain’t nothin’ harder than that nowadays. Being believed.”
Forge nodded. “We’ll try, but we’re not holding our breath. There’s a narrative being written out there – and when people want to believe it, they’ll only hear what supports it; and they’ll tune out everything that doesn’t.”
“So…how do we stop it?” Greyson asked, getting to the point.
“We simultaneously break into Redmond to make the uplink and hijack a drone while it’s under Plurb control.”
“Mother nature…!” Windsor exclaimed in a whisper.
“That’s impossible,” Grimes noted. “You’d have to fly next to it, and humans can’t fly. In fact, only one mammal can fly – the bat.”
Jarryd rolled his eyes. “So we get Batman. Solves that problem. Thanks for speaking up.”
Greyson jumped in. “Some humans can fly.”
“No, they can’t. Glide maybe, for a limited amount of time, like a flying squirrel, but…”
Forge brushed off the arguing boys and turned to Avery. “And to hack Redmond, we’ll need you, Avery.”
Jarryd was more surprised than Avery. He stared at her as she contained the nerves within her like a tightening spring.
“Whatev’ah you need.”
“Intelligence discovered that Pluribus fears that you may be able to access Redmond’s network. We assume it’s because of your DNA. If we can get you inside, you may be able to disrupt their entire operation. You’re the only one.”
She nodded. “Will my fath’uh be there?”
“No. And I know you know this, Avery, but he’s been running the company remotely since the kidnapping. We have no idea where they’re keeping him. He’s denied any claims of a kidnapping. He claims his absence is for security reasons. We imagine Pluribus is forcing his every move.”
Avery had heard that fact for a year, but her face still tensed.
“And once we get her inside, we’ll need someone else to act as a distraction.”
Jarryd leaned forward in anticipation.
“Perhaps someone to pose as her boyfriend.”
Jarryd jumped up. “That’s me!”
He may have spat a little when he screamed. He looked at the table. Yep.
He wiped it off, still pumping his fist. Then he sat down and straightened his face. “Whatever you need. Even if you don’t need it, I’ll do it.”
Forge cleared his throat, glancing at the boy as if giving his decision second thoughts. “Or Greyson with a disguise perhaps…”
Jarryd whipped to Greyson with venom seething between his two front teeth. “This one’s mine!” Then he calmed down with a smile. “That cool, G?”
Greyson smirked. “It’s all yours. But what can I…”
Forge clapped his hands together, interrupting him. “Great. But the plan is still in formation. If it is to work, we need a few things to fall in place. For that, the team is leaving tonight. When we return tomorrow, I expect you two to be rested and ready.”
Greyson raised his hand, but spoke anyway. “Tomorrow? The election’s tonight.”
Forge nodded. “Analysts say we won’t know which states voted against Reckhemmer until tomorrow at the earliest. It could take weeks with recounts or if the courts get involved. It’s also been decided that we will not act until all efforts have been made through government channels. Dan is working around the clock right now to get through to them without tipping off those in the government who want war. If they find out we’re on to them, we lose our opportunity.”
“There are people in the government who want war?” Beep asked. “Are they nuts?”
Forge wasn’t phased by her question. It actually quieted him, like he was surrendered to the facts. “We’ve been fighting an invisible war for months now. Years – before Rubicon. At first we weren’t fully aware of our enemy – who they were, what they wanted. And we still aren’t. But each time we run into one of their plots, and with new information coming from our source inside Reckhemmer’s camp, we uncover another one of their tentacles. There is an organization hidden deep, bigger and more powerful than we have ever thought possible. Nothing is beyond their reach. No one is. CIA, NSA, the UN, military, politicians.”
“It’s not Pluribus?” Drake asked.
“Pluribus are their pawns. This organization is the unseen player that moves the pieces.”
“Emory is one of them?” Greyson asked.
“He is. But he’s on the board – a knight – one of the pieces. But we believe there are many more in the shadows, telling even him what to do.”
“StoneWater?”
“More pawns. Just a means to their end.” He paused, letting the impact of what he said come to a head. “For whatever reason, they want war.”
The kids eyed each other, sharing the despair.
“Well, that’s stupid,” Beep interjected.
Jarryd grinned, but only for a moment. All the talk about an invisible enemy fired him up. Someone more powerful than Emory and StoneWater? More evil? He wanted to find out more.
“Can we go with you tonight?” Greyson asked, apparently even more eager than he was.
“Nope. This is purely recon. When we get back, we’ll know if we can make this happen.”
A tense silence gave Jarryd a chance to reach under the table to find Avery’s hand. When he found it, she jumped but came back with her own. He squeezed it and she squeezed back. They were going to be spies together. A Deadly Duo. Troublesome Two. The Aussie and Saucy.
He felt her skin against his and surrendered to thoughts of them dancing at a fancy ball, dressed in James Bond suits and sipping martinis. After making clever small talk with the world’s snazziest criminals, they’d shoot a few bad guys then retreat to their luxurious hideout on the beach to make beautiful spy babies.
“Jarryd?”
He snapped from his daydream. “Huh? What?”
Avery was scrunching her face at him with her constellation of beautiful freckles – but Asher was next to her with a gaping smile. “We’re babysitting tonight,” she said. “And trimming your fingernails.”
Jarryd eyed his fingernails and then the kid. Disappointment sunk in. “Our last night here? I thought we could go shred the fresh pow. Make the first tracks.”
Asher cocked his head. “Huh?”
Jarryd sighed. “Snowboarding.”
“Oh, cool! I’ll come!”
Greyson came up behind the boy. “I’ll take him, J. They won’t let me do anything else, so I might as well babysit.”
Asher made a face. “I feel so wanted.”
Jarryd smiled at Greyson. “Thanks, G.”
“No problem. Be safe.”
“Safe? That’s no fun.”
“Uh…then stay dangerous?”
“I like that. Stay dangerous…”
Chapter 50
The truck squeaked to a stop by the rickety sign. The words Quarry Closed were just as dirty as they were over a year ago when Cael had first seen them. Memories assailed him as he turned to the passenger. This time it wasn’t a corpse. It was a teenaged girl. Her name was Saylor. She’d made that clear after he’d called her ‘girl’ at the truck stop. She hadn’t liked that one bit. But she’d stayed with him – even after he’d told her his allegiance.
“You’re with the Plurbs? Seriously?” Saylor huffed, shuffling through the stolen purse. When she found a smartphone she typed at it. “Have you not seen the video?”
“What video?” he asked, surprised at her reaction. He’d expected anger, but gotten a dose of pity instead.
“The one with the boy telling how Emory nuked Des Moines.”
“Who? Reckhemmer’s son? Of course he’d say that.”
She finished typing, gave it one more glance, then handed the phone to him. “No. This kid. Greyson Gray.”
He’d watched the vide
o. Twice. The kid was either telling the truth, or he was the best liar he’d ever known – and he’d known some great liars.
And if Greyson was telling the truth, it meant Emory was the liar. It meant the government was right and that Emory was a cold-blooded murderer of thousands. And it meant Cael had been doing his bidding for a year.
That fact had struck him hard, though he hadn’t showed it. He’d gotten good at hiding things. But the guilt had changed him inside, fired him up. He wanted full vengeance and redemption all at once. And there had only been one place he knew to get it.
“Last chance,” he said, wrists on the wheel, staring at the sign.
She nodded. Stiffened her chin. “You aren’t getting rid of me. ‘Specially in the middle of nowhere by that creepy lookin’ sign.”
He almost smiled. “Let me do the talkin’.”
“’Kay,” she said before rolling her eyes down in thought. “And Cael? Thank you.”
Cael avoided eye contact, regripping the wheel.
“Am I the first?” she asked.
“Huh?”
“That you’ve saved.”
He squinted at the sign. There had been one other person. Cael had never told her that he’d known the boy in the video. Greyson had been hiding behind his dad’s recliner, scared and injured. Cael had saved him by misleading the Plurbs looking for him. He hadn’t figured out why he had done so. Or for that matter, he hadn’t figured out why he’d taken Saylor halfway across the country.
He didn’t want to explore the thought that Saylor might be half right about him being good.
“No. You’re the first.”
“Guess I should’a figured. Taking me to a terrorist hideout isn’t much of a way to save someone.”
He knew she was joking, but joking wasn’t his thing. “You can wait here if ya want,” he said with his rough murmur.
She wasn’t amused. “I’m with you. And I won’t tell ‘em anything. I know the risks. If they kill me, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. For insisting on coming.”
He searched through the tall ditch weed, delaying the last jaunt in their long journey. Though he didn’t feel any different, he wondered about the virus inside of him. Had they lied? Or was it going to start eating at him if he didn’t go back? Every itch had haunted him – his mind wondering if it was the start of his flesh falling off. “They will threaten you,” he said. “To kill you. Ruin you. Blackmail. They call it leverage.”
“Cael. Nothing they do to me can…”
“Or yer family. Anythin’ ya love, they’ll use against ya.”
She thought deeper but came to the same conclusion. “Not many get the chance to bring down Pluribus from the inside.”
“We won’t.”
“We’ll try.”
He stared ahead, thinking. Wiping his bangs from his eyes.
“You saved me up to now. And it’s been a good few last days,” she said with a short laugh. “Thanks.”
Feeling another itch, he shifted into gear and pulled forward.
-------------------------------
With post-school dreariness, Sydney watched the little television screen on the back of the driver’s side seat. Her whole body was tired – and thankful there was no dance practice. There was the show tonight, but at least she had a few hours to decompress. The day had been awful.
Perhaps her parents’ days had been awful as well. Or maybe they were still resentful of having to pick her up from school out of fear that she had gotten them all discovered. But they hadn’t been. Things had been normal. Except for Jordan.
“He’s gone,” Jordan said. “Hasn’t been back. No one knows…”
Sydney made sure they weren’t being watched. Pulled him to a quiet place by the school’s trophy case. “He just left? Nothing else happened?”
He nodded. “My father was a part of it, wasn’t he? What happened in Dallas...?”
“Yes.”
He took a few struggling breaths, holding her by a strap on her backpack. “I didn’t know. I swear.”
“You still don’t know, okay? Don’t do anything. Ever – without me telling you.”
He gulped the lump in his throat. “Was it real? The poison?”
“Would you believe me either way? I got to go.” She pulled at her backpack.
He dropped her strap and called out as she left. “I didn’t know!”
She closed her eyes, listening to the television. The news was showing snippets of the candidates’ final pleas for votes. The same old rhetoric made her even more tired.
“America means everything to me.” The voice was unmistakably that of Audrey Raines. “She gave me opportunity when I was at my rope’s end. She provided the means to pursue the greatest abundance of resources known to mankind – the best foods, clothes, technologies, and innovations. She protected my parent’s generation and my parents’ parents’ generation from tyrants across the seas. And her Constitution has protected my family from tyrants within.”
Their SUV rolled to a stop behind a school bus, and Sydney opened her eyes. The traffic was especially heavy today because of the voting. Signs were posted everywhere, pointing voters in the right direction, and there was already a line forming. Most wanted to beat the coming snow.
“The world has long looked to us for guidance, inspiration – a beacon of freedom and prosperity – but now our allies worry and our enemies prod us for every weakness, waiting, hoping that we crumble within.”
A camera crew had set up on the lawn by the flagpoles, obviously hoping to get the patriotic shot of the American flag as citizens did their civic duty, even amidst the tense atmosphere. The threats hadn’t stopped at Emory. Other militias had stepped up their overblown declarations, extreme religious groups had declared their boycotts, and the UN had brought in electoral monitors to help ensure a smooth process. This had never happened in America before – in Africa and the Middle East, yes – but never in America. It seemed that no one expected a peaceful outcome.
“But most importantly,” Audrey Raines continued, “America has shown me that even the greatest countries can become greater. When we the people recognize that we’ve been wrong, when we the people step up and demand the government recognize its wrongs, and when we the people steer our country toward progress, goodness, and truths that are self-evident…America becomes greater.”
Traffic began flowing again and Sydney watched the United Nations sentry, his gloved finger by the trigger guard and his blue helmet like some construction worker’s hardhat. He stood like a statue, like he was just a wax figure – fake. And that’s what she wanted him to be. They didn’t really need him, did they? People from other countries to protect American children?
No, no. They weren’t for protection, Jeremy had said. They were for insurance. Any accusations of voter fraud, voter intimidation or the like, could now be renounced with assurances that the international peacekeepers had been on the scene. The government had their scapegoats.
“America has always faced obstacles.” This was Reckhemmer now. Nick turned his screen off and looked out the window. But Sydney’s still played. “America has always had enemies. When Britain opposed us, we declared our independence. When the South threatened us, we elected Lincoln. When racial bigotry opposed us, the Civil Rights movement triumphed. When religious extremists opposed us, we struck down their hate. So when terrorists and dissident thugs oppose us, what do we do? Do ‘We the People’ become ‘We the States’? Or do we move forward, toward a more perfect union?”
The screen flicked off.
Sydney glanced at Nick, as if he could have shut it off. But then she realized he didn’t have the controls for her screen.
“We’re leaving tonight,” Jeremy said matter-of-fact as he turned the wheel.
Sydney turned to Nick. He seemed just as stunned as she did. She expected him to speak up first, but he retreated within himself in deep thought.
“But…the
show is tonight,” Sydney complained.
“We’ll go right after the show.”
“There’s a party after…”
“We don’t make the decisions, remember? Mr. Tomlinson is gone, so we’ve been called away. That’s all I know and all that matters.”
“But…”
“Sydney!” Jeremy yelled, hitting the steering wheel.
She jerked in fright.
Harper leaned across her passenger seat, putting a hand on Jeremy’s arm in an attempt to calm him. She whispered something, but he ignored it.
“You have no right to complain,” he muttered through his teeth. “This was your doing. We had them. We…we had them.”
Sydney felt her lip begin to tremble, so she put in her ear buds and gazed out the window. If only she knew it had been worth it. If he was still alive.
She saw Nick reaching for her out of the corner of her eyes. His hand was palm-up, with loose fingers. His eyes spoke of mercy, so she grabbed his hand. He pumped it and squinched his lips in sympathy. It’ll be okay, he mouthed.
It’ll be okay.
Her smile was faint, but genuine. Maybe it would be okay. After all, if they were being called away, they’d be going home. Tomorrow, she might see him again.
Chapter 51
Election Night
The brisk November air ate at the brittle glass, and tiny snowflakes fell across the brick boulevard, beginning to stick and scurry across the street toward the banks of leftover October snow. Streetlights had popped on an hour ago, but even though it was still early in the evening, there wasn’t anyone trekking across the boulevard. Most were at the Convention Center already, anxiously awaiting the election results.