Garry King was looking at the cleavage beautifully displayed by Sally Donte. She didn’t seem to mind his looks. With a glass of champagne in one hand, she listened to the slightly exploded jokes told by the governor. The place was indeed dreamlike. It felt like visiting an old Egyptian temple, maybe even a pyramid. The torches on the walls were the only source of light. And because the flames were dancing, carried by a draft, the shadows around made you think you had traveled to another millennium. Even the waiters wore uniforms depicting Egyptians symbols. Sally couldn’t tell whether the hieroglyphs around them imitated authentic ones or if they were the personal contribution of the designer.
“It seems strange though,” said Sally. “So much order in a place with no rules, so much discipline and rigor, if you like. What makes the chef cook so well? And not add to the food, besides the ingredients, other follies? What makes all these people follow the rules?”
“The same things as in New York. If we simplified things a bit, only one thing is left. The need for money.”
“That’s fine, but here, things are a bit more complicated. What makes them so sure they’ll get paid? No police, no justice – who could help in case of an injustice? It’s a risk, isn’t it?”
“I am not saying there aren’t risks. But the risks are minor. What would the owner gain by not paying the chef? On the contrary, he’s counting on the chef. He knows that only because of him will the restaurant become famous and appreciated. It’s a win-win situation.”
“How much does the chef here make?”
“Ten times more than he would anywhere else.”
“That means that at the end of the month it might be easier for the owner to kill him than to pay him. Am I right?”
“You’re thinking too much, Miss Sally. You are too negative. Not everybody is a criminal. On the contrary, I’d say there are only handfuls who actually wish to cause harm. Most of them just go about their business. Things have been different for dozens of years. Maybe more.”
“Different? How do you mean?”
“Please, call me Garry. That’s what my friends call me. And I’d like to think that’s what we’ve become.”
“I’d like to think the same, Garry.”
“So, as I was saying. Things are different now. How did the past differ? What made people dissatisfied? First of all, money, or lack thereof. But now everybody has a well-paid job.”
“Some jobs still pay better than others, and others are much better paid.”
“That’s true. If you’re greedy, no amount of money will ever be enough. But let’s consider the reason why money did not use to suffice. First of all, you needed a place to live. A house. And the house’s price increased the better the area. Do you know what caused some areas to be avoided?”
“What?”
“Crime, mainly. But now there’s almost no crime, because of this place. This wonderful city I run. Think what you will, but because of New Hope, America no longer has good or bad areas. Sure. There are still some neighborhoods that celebrities prefer. But they offer nothing extra. They have the same means of transportation, the same utilities. If you need the fire brigade, they arrive at the same time. Nothing is different.”
“I agree. It’s the people who make a place good or bad. But that’s not the same having as a cinema star or a plumber as a neighbor. Don’t laugh. It matters to me. When I go for a run in the morning, it’s one thing to meet Ronald Spacey and a whole different thing to meet a John Doe. I will smile at Spacey, I’ll want to look my best, but I will try to avoid Doe because I know he’d want to start a conversation with me.”
“You women are hard to please. You always want to be admired. Seduce the most powerful men.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t say it’s a bad thing. It’s just that when a poor fellow falls for you, he gets instantly devoured. Or you keep him tied up, unable to move freely anymore.”
“Garry. Are you a bit inhibited or is it just me? Women are not spiders. They weave no web. We are simply aware of the effect we can have over men. And from time to time, we use it.”
“That does not explain why you always want something different.”
“Who said we always want something different? That’s a misconception, dear. We only want one thing: to be happy.”
“Even if that means making others unhappy?”
“Who?”
“Those who get their hopes up only to later discover the harsh reality.”
“And how are their thoughts women’s responsibilities?”
“Because you give them false hope?”
“Garry, I think I liked it more when you were telling me about New Hope. Let’s return to that topic.”
“Very well. Where were we? Oh, yes. I was telling you how salaries are now sufficient to meet the needs of any normal person. They can buy a house, eat well, have access to health care, education, travel wherever they want on Earth, and buy the things they want. If you are more or less temperate, you can have everything you need to be happy.”
“And yet you wanted more. You wanted to be a governor. Why?”
“I’ve heard this question so many times, you have no idea. My team prepared a standard statement that I don’t even need to read anymore since I learned it by heart.”
“I’d rather not hear that one. Tell me the honest version.”
“Do you want me to forget for a second who you really are and show my true colors?”
“I want you to be the real you with me. No stage directions. Natural. Why wouldn’t you? Don’t you trust me?”
“Oh, no, it’s not that.”
“I came here, to this lawless city—admittedly, to this more protected island—isn’t that proof I took some chances? That I trust you?”
“Whenever you talk so fervently, your cheeks make these dimples I love. True, Sally, I can see you trust me. And I appreciate it. I just don’t have much to tell you. You were expecting something jaw-dropping. It’s nothing like that, unfortunately. This is how I’ve always been—ambitious, who always wanted to be the first at everything. I want to rule. It’s in my blood.”
“So no childhood trauma. No dream stuck in your head?”
“When I was young, my parents used to always tell me I had to be the best. That in life there’s number one and there’s the rest. That was how I was raised. Do the impossible so there’s nobody better.”
“Some people criticize you, though.”
“Really? And what do those people say?”
“That you step outside your territory. That you are arrogant. That you do not care about those around you.”
“Just rumors.”
“The polls are not in your favor. You’ve dropped four percent last month. And the elections are not that far off. How long is left? A year?”
“Nine months.”
“You see. Not so long now. You need to do something. Otherwise you won’t be governor for much longer. No longer number one. You’ll be among the rest.”
Garry King looked her straight in the eye. Did Sally Donte come prepared? Was she in possession of something with which to blackmail him? He was well aware that his popularity was decreasing, but he never considered it might cost him the election. After all, he was the one who created the Island of the Rich—the place that radically changed New Hope. Who would mess with him?
But time was passing, and people were forgetting. It had become normal for New Hope to have a special area for the privileged. And this young lady, so young and beautiful, was there to tell him that the victory he was counting on was not as certain after all. He had to listen to her at least.
“The glimmer in your eyes, dear Sally, tells me you are here to help me. Perhaps even save me.”
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Oh, no. I am just very good at it.”
“Well, yes, I could help you. And I want to help you. We said we’re friends, remember?”
“Of course we are friends.
”
“Then allow me to tell you my idea. I am about to make a documentary of New Hope, of you, about the riots, or the Mafia. Where women are abused and raped. Sex and violence always make a splash. It sells. Of course, the whole thing will be set up. And in the end, you’ll save the day. You can find people to act the parts, can’t you?”
“Dear Sally, I think we will be very good friends from now on.”
Chapter 28
Rose Brooks went by herself to meet with Krugar. She expected him to come alone, but he was accompanied by four other guys, armed to the teeth. They had automatic pistols with real bullets, which they kept in sight. They didn’t care if the weapons were seen anymore. They were unusual appearances in New Hope. People avoided them, although some looked at them indignantly, but they did so from a distance. Nobody had the courage to defy them. A few drones flew above. Apparently someone else was interested in their actions as well.
Zone 4L17 was close to the Island of the Rich. It was right by the river that separates the two areas, but there is no access road. If you wanted to travel to the island you need to take a pretty long detour. Other than Krugar and Rose, no one else was in the building.
“Are you from the NSO?”
“Yes I am.”
“As you can see, we are at war.”
“Against whom?”
“The sheriffs, Garry King, everyone. Maybe you, too.”
“Not with us, not yet. If you choose to cooperate, we might even be friends.”
“I don’t have any choice to make. You are the ones that need to choose.
“Choose what?”
“You want Garry King. You don’t have enough evidence against him. I can give him to you. I own recordings; I have witnesses; I have account statements; I have everything you need. You may not even need anything from what you already have. What I can give you will be enough.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“I want you to set Sarah Sanchez free. Now. I need your word that I’ll have the same privileges in Island of the Rich even after you arrest Garry King.”
“How could we promise you the same privileges when we don’t even know what are your current privileges are? And Sarah Sanchez has already been sent away from New Hope.”
Krugar frowned. He grabbed her by the throat with one hand and nearly lifted her up. Rose Brooks grabbed his hand with both her hands. She couldn’t speak.
“Do you know how I survived in this shit world?”
Silence ensued.
“My nose helped me. I can sniff out a slut. And you smell just like one.”
He let her go, pushing her to the wall. “I can’t stand being played by a whore. Do I look like a fool to you? I asked you a question. Do I?”
“No,” said Rose.
“Then why are you playing me for a fool?”
Rose Brooks didn’t answer. If the clench around her throat lasted a few more seconds, her colleagues would have intervened, which would most likely have resulted in her death. These brutes had guns. Automatic guns even. And grenades. They certainly would use them if the situation so required.
“Because you tried to play me, you will bring me that moron who sent you my message as well. I want them both right here, both Dylan and Sarah. You have three hours; otherwise, you lose any chance of getting anything from me. In this war, you are either with me or against me. And you have no time to think. Come one. Get lost and do what you have to.”
Krugar turned around and climbed down the stairs. The others followed. They stopped downstairs, turned into the hallway and entered the first studio apartment. Rose Brooks stood behind for a little while, massaging her neck. One of the men who had entered with Krugar came back.
“He’s calling for you.”
She followed him into the studio apartment. She quickly realized that this wasn’t a regular dwelling. Although a familiar setting, the bed was pushed aside, and beneath it was a round door, similar to those on submarines. It led to the underground. The door was open and a ladder went down. Inside were red light bulbs. Where did this tunnel lead? There were known attempts of people in New Hope building themselves underground hiding places, but most of them were pretty primitive. This one wasn’t rudimentary at all. On the contrary, it looked like a very well-established structure.
“Do you know where this tunnel leads?” asked Krugar.
“No,” replied Rose.
“It leads to my den. I will be there until this storm passes. And be assured I can subsist there for many years without leaving at all. Let Sarah come with that buck, as I told you. Then, we will detonate the entrance so that there is no way anyone can get to me. You or that Garry King. This is my domain. You have three hours. Now leave.”
Rose Brooks got out and started running. Time was short indeed. She had to hurry. Until then it wasn’t clear why he had asked her to meet in that building. Now it all made sense. Because it was so close to the island, a tunnel leading there had been built.
Dylan was lying in bed, idling his time away. He was watching a reality show. It was one of the things he did when he didn’t have anything better to do. Someone knocked at the door. He hardly had time to get up and ask for the pass. It was okay, it was an agent.
“Get dressed and come with me.”
“What happened?”
“There’s no time. You’ll find out from Rose Brooks.”
Of course. There was never enough time for him, but he was always called for . . . another mission? They needed him again? How did he become such an important piece? It was true, after all, that he had some advantages. Good food to start with, vitamins, safety. Living wasn’t a nightmare anymore. He didn’t suspect they wanted to exploit them. He was simply unhappy with the way things were going. They met Rose Brooks on the way. She was dressed funny. She looked like a diver and carried a backpack.
“Where are we going?”
“To Krugar’s.”
“Again? Didn’t I tell you that the last time I saw him I started a fight with him?”
“It’s better for you if you don’t know everything.”
“You’ve told me that before.”
They walked in haste. They nearly ran. But she was right about that. He didn’t want to know everything anymore. In fact, he didn’t want to know anything anymore. He wanted everything to be over already. Once again, he had that weird feeling that something wasn’t right. Yet he still wasn’t scared. He kept walking. Come what may! They entered a building and stopped in front of a door on the ground level. Rose Brooks hardly knocked on the door. A big guy opened up, holding an automatic gun.
“You are twelve minutes late.”
“Is Krugar here?”
“No.”
“Then tell him we accept his requirements if he accepts that I come, too.”
The agent didn’t enter the room, or perhaps she didn’t want to. The guy closed the door. He was probably going to call his boss and let him know about the situation. Shortly, the door opened again.
“He accepts.”
Rose Brooks used her bracelet to speak with another agent. “Bring her in.”
This time, Dylan was mesmerized. Two agents were bringing in Sarah Sanchez. Her hands were tied up with some sort of very slim and nearly transparent handcuffs. What’s more, a scarf was over her hands, almost hiding the handcuffs. You could see she was tied up only if you looked very closely. She had the same smirk on her face. You could read her satisfaction in it. She winked at Dylan. He was disgusted. Was she about to be released? What was the NSO thinking? Did they make a deal with the criminals? Was it not obvious that people like that don’t keep their promises? Were they that desperate?
They untied Sarah and released her. Dylan expected her to take out a gun and shoot him. Or run away. But neither happened. They all went inside the studio apartment and from there into the underground tunnel. The corridor was narrow. They walked single file. Surprisingly, it was a long walk. From one point to the next were massive iron doors. T
hey passed through an intersection and finally made it to a large hall.
The submarine look disappeared completely. They were in a very large living room, with a massive wooden desk in front and a large couch in the back. Krugar was waiting for his girlfriend. She jumped in his arms and they kissed passionately. Dylan found the whole scene really gross, especially because the two were not about to stop soon, and they groped each other without any shame. Rose Brooks felt the same.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have things to discuss.”
“So, you’re the one who brought her back to me. You’re not just a skunk, after all then. Something tells me you haven’t made this decision by yourself. What do you hope to gain from me?”
“You know very well what I want. I want Garry King.”
“Well… maybe you didn’t know, but I don’t like to betray my business partners. Anything else?”
“So what is your plan, Krugar?”
“Welcome to my atomic shelter. I’ve named it the den. We will stay in the den and wait.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. Sometimes things have a way of working out on their own.”
“I don’t think this is the case here. Why are you so convinced we are safe here?”
“Well, I took care of it. Trust me. I took the materials from other construction sites. Workers have been brought from all corners of New Hope. Nobody knows about this place.”
“Not even Garry King?”
“Not even him, I’m sure.”
“Krugar, there are surveillance cameras everywhere. Do you really think that such a project can be accomplished without anyone knowing about it? The whole ground was excavated? Those metallic doors? The high-powered electric generator? The air purifier? Who in New Hope could use a machine that generates oxygen from carbon dioxide?”
“How do you know I have an air purifier?”
“If we know, you can imagine they know, too. You thought you could hide here no matter what, but things aren’t that easy. Garry King knows you built this shelter and he knows its exact location.
“Shut up! You’re talking nonsense.”
“Listen to me. Very soon you will discover the truth. You told me you’ve got a knack for this kind of stuff. That you can smell when you’re being set up. Use your nose then. But what will you do if you discover I’m right? It may be too late to even make a decision anymore.
The Free City Page 20