by Max Barry
He read the message. Suddenly he remembered: Buy was the asshole stockbroker. John had asked him to check out who was behind the McDonald’s attack. He saw the words: HACK NIKE.
John roared with laughter. His P.A. glanced at him, then away. John laughed until his stomach hurt.
He made some calls to set wheels in motion—important wheels, very important wheels—before his appointment with General Li. Li was the first in a long line of daily meetings for John; after him was the Liaison from News Corporation. There had been a few articles in the newspapers lately that weren’t as pro-NRA as John would have liked.
“Good morning.”
“Christ!” Li had a way of sneaking up on you. To the phone, he said: “Be there at six.” He hung up. “Good work on security, Li. How many guys do you have out there?”
“Out front? Fifteen.”
“The escort last night was terrific, too. Three cars, right?” “Four. Plus a chopper.”
“I almost want the Government to try to arrest me.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased,” Li said. “Because there is another, less pleasant matter I must bring to your attention. I’m afraid you won’t want to hear it.”
“Oh?”
“On your instructions, we attempted to acquire Billy NRA upon his arrival at LAX. Unfortunately, given the time pressure, we were unable to—”
“He got away.”
“Yes.”
“Did you plug any agents?”
Li blinked. “Any Government—no.”
“Hmm,” he said. “A pity. You’re lucky, Li, I’m in a good mood today.”
“I’m pleased to hear that, sir.”
“And I’ve taken a few precautions of my own. You just keep the Government out of this building, and we’ll stay friends.” “Understood, sir.”
The intercom buzzed. “John? You have an eleven o’clock to review some advertising?”
“I’m with Li. Tell them I can’t make it.”
“Ah…you skipped the last one, remember? You said they approved the worst campaign you’d seen since AOL. You told me to never let you—”
“Right, right,” John said. “Fine, I’ll go.”
Li said, “What about our military buildup? We haven’t yet finalized our rules of engagement.”
He put his hands on Li’s shoulders. “You know what I want. You’ve got the firepower. Go nuts.”
“John, T.A. may be militarizing faster than we anticipated. If they move against us, I need to know if I’m authorized to—”
“Li,” John said. “You’re a smart guy. Use your own judgment. Okay?”
Li straightened. “Understood, sir.”
“Good man.” John bounced out of the room. Everything was coming together.
71 Jennifer
Max had done well for himself since Maher. The Synergy building was large and well-located, even close enough to the media companies to share the same restaurants. The lobby was large and modern. Jennifer said, “Hi, I’m—”
“I know who you are,” the receptionist said, smiling.
“Oh,” she said.
Max was in the lobby and kissing her cheeks within a minute and a half. “Barbie doll, it’s super to see you again. I cannot tell you how happy I am you called.” His grin was huge. He held on to both her hands.
“Well, you can take the girl out of advertising…”she said, and they laughed. She got her hands back.
“The US Alliance briefing is at eleven. I don’t want to pressure you, but it would be unbelievable if you could come along.”
“I’d love to.”
“You’re fantastic,” he said. “I could kiss you.”
“Let’s not get carried away,” she said. They laughed again.
“Wait until our clients see you. They will flip.”
“They might,” Jennifer said.
“Our campaign plays up the local angle on US Alliance,” Max said in the cab. “As you might have noticed. I don’t like to brag, but US Alliance has a higher share of subscribers in L.A. than any other major market.”
“Wow,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “I know.”
“So who’s going to be at this meeting?”
“A few US Alliance people, a couple of Liaisons.” The cab pulled over. The windows darkened with NRA bodies. “The main guy is John Nike; you must have heard of him.”
The cab doors popped open. “IDs,” a soldier said, and another said. “Please spread your arms and legs.”
“Morning, fellas,” Max said. “We have an eleven o’clock. We’ve been cleared.”
Jennifer’s ID was fresh from printing; it said: JENNIFER SYNERGY. An NRA man eyed it and her with equal impassivity. Another soldier began patting her down, his hands fast and professional. “Hey,” she said. “Watch it.”
“Gun!” he shouted. Suddenly there were a lot of NRA rifles pointed at her. There had been far too many NRA rifles pointed at Jennifer lately.
“Hey, whoa!” Max said. “Jen, US Alliance are very twitchy on security. Give them your gun.”
“Oh, sure. No problem.” She handed it over. The NRA guys didn’t look happy, but they stopped aiming guns at her. Max took her arm as they entered the lobby.
“I should have mentioned that earlier,” Max said. “I didn’t know you carried a gun.”
“Doesn’t everybody?”
“Not to business meetings, Malibu.” He laughed. “You know?”
“Right,” she said. “I guess I just forgot about it.”
An assistant escorted them to a meeting room and Max spent ten minutes fiddling with his laptop computer, trying to set up a slide show. Then US Alliance people began wandering in and Jennifer had to make conversation about audience hits and reach figures. It was surprisingly easy: almost everyone had heard of her, or at least her campaigns. She felt a little surreal. She felt as if she’d never left advertising.
“The ’96 Pepsi, right!” a woman said, her eyes wide with awe. “That was a totally groundbreaking campaign. I can’t believe you did that!”
“Only the best talent for my clients,” Max said.
One of the suits was studying her silently. She knew what was coming before he opened his mouth. “You must know John Nike, then. He worked at Maher around the same time.”
Everybody looked at her. “John,” she said. “Yeah, we worked together.”
“Wow, he’ll just die when he sees you,” the woman said. She looked at her watch. “He should be along any minute.”
“We can talk about old times,” she said. Everybody laughed except Max. Max was looking not so happy.
“Jennifer… could I get your assistance here a second?”
“Sure.”
He waited until she was hovering over the computer with him. “I didn’t realize that. I never worked with him. John Nike is John Maher?”
“Uh-huh.”
“But…but isn’t John…” “My ex?” she said. “Yep. He is.”
“Okay,” a voice said from the doorway. “Let’s see how much money you clowns have managed to waste this week.”
She turned. He looked the same as nine years ago; she suspected he’d flirted with surgery. His eyes swept the room, then jerked back to her. His mouth dropped.
“Hi, honey,” she said.
72 Disintegration
Billy was starting to suspect that whatever Jennifer and Calvin were doing with him, it wasn’t official. He’d had plenty of time to think about it, stuck in the hotel room, and the longer he sat there, the more convinced he was that it wasn’t Government protocol to handcuff suspects to refrigerators.
Jennifer had left early that morning, dressed up in a suit and heels and looking very much unlike a Government agent. Billy had no idea what that was about. Calvin hung around until nine, then went out for a newspaper. “Come on, dude,” Billy said. “Please, not the mini bar. Take me with you.”
Calvin got out the handcuffs. “Hands on the whitegoods.”
Wh
en he was gone, Billy kicked it in frustration. Then he made an interesting discovery: it wasn’t fastened to anything. It was heavy, sure, but he managed to get to his feet and stagger around the hotel room with it. The bottles of liquor inside knocked and crashed against each other. He put the mini bar down and started to unload it, then changed his mind. He might want those later.
He arranged his jacket as best he could and checked himself in the mirror. He still looked like a man trying to hide a small refrigerator. Well, he would just have to do his best. Billy lurched out the door and toward the elevators.
Thinking carefully, he rode all the way to the car park. No way would he make it out through the lobby like this. He was congratulating himself on his ingenuity when he saw the driveway attendant. Billy stopped, unsure what to do. The attendant saw him. He picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. Billy broke into a lumbering run.
Two hotel security guys caught him before he’d made half a block. Billy was drenched with sweat. His legs were like rubber. His breath was coming in great gasps. The security guys stared at him. One said, “I thought George musta been kidding.”
“I’ve seen people steal a lot of stuff,” the other said. “But this takes the cake.”
“I’m handcuffed to it,” Billy said. Then he realized he should just shut his mouth. They made him sit in the lobby and wait for Calvin to come back. Billy had a feeling that Calvin wasn’t going to be happy with him. He was right about that, at least.
“You know,” Calvin said, “being cuffed to the mini bar is a privilege. I could have left you in the bathroom.”
“I know,” Billy said. “I’m sorry.”
“They’re ejecting us from the hotel. Did you hear that?” Calvin sat on the bed and stared at him.
“I’m really sorry.”
“Now I’m going to have to take you with me.”
“Yeah? Where are we going?”
Calvin didn’t say anything. Billy didn’t take that as a good sign. He was starting to think he should have stayed in his room.
They caught a cab downtown and got out at a large, open, shopping plaza. It was directly opposite a big US Alliance tower, and out front a lot of NRA soldiers with helmets and automatic weapons were hanging around. “Uh, Calvin,” Billy said. “This isn’t such a good idea.”
“So stick close,” Calvin said. He led Billy to a plastic table surrounded by fast food joints, including a McDonald’s on one side and a Burger King on the other. “You want some lunch?”
“Yeah, sure. How about—”
“I can see you gentlemen are in need of some refreshment!” a man said. “Would you like some coupons for McDonald’s? Buy one, get one free!”
“Okay,” Billy said.
“Wait, wait a second,” someone else said. Billy saw a girl, also bristling with coupon books. “You don’t want to eat at McDonald’s; they rape the environment, didn’t you know? Here, have a coupon for Burger King.”
“Sure. Thanks.” He smiled at the girl.
“I don’t want to spread rumors,” the man said, “but I’ve seen that Burger King kitchen and it’s filthy. I wouldn’t want to eat there.”
“That’s a crock of shit,” the girl said. “At least Burger King doesn’t have traces of dog in its quote-all-beef-patties-unquote.”
“That was one store! In New York!”
“Look, we’ve got your coupons,” Calvin said. “Now go away, the both of you.”
The man and the girl left. “Aw,” Billy said. “She was cute.”
“I can’t answer my phone at night without some telemarketer trying to sell me something,” Calvin said. “Now I can’t sit down to lunch?”
“They were just giving away coupons.”
“Fine,” Calvin said. “So go get some McDonald’s.”
Billy looked at the Burger King girl. She was handing a coupon to an elderly couple. She saw him and winked. “How about BK?”
“I have a US Alliance card. I can get points from McDonald’s.”
“Dude,” Billy said, “I thought you Government people were trying to stop that shit.”
“All right, then!” Calvin said. “Get Burger King!”
“Keep your pants on.” He held out his hand. Calvin dug into his pockets. “So Jen was wearing some outfit this morning. I never knew she had such legs. What’s she up to?”
“None of your business,” Calvin said, but he glanced at the US Alliance building and that told Billy plenty. “Go get some food. I’ll be watching you.”
Billy trotted over to the line for Burger King and waited. The coupon girl was circling the square. Billy hoped she saw him here.
“What’s this?” a voice said. Five or six teenage boys were approaching the store, all baggy clothes and tattoos. “What’s the matter, you people don’t know where you are? This is an Alliance town. We don’t need no T.A. companies.”
Nobody spoke. Billy saw that their tattoos weren’t ordinary designs: they were logos. He saw a lot of Nike swooshes and NRA designs. The leader had a US Alliance logo on his shaved head.
“Go on, get lost! Go spend your money on a good company, not these foreigners!”
“Hey, hey,” the coupon girl said. She walked up to the skinhead. “Take it somewhere else, okay? Trying to earn a living here.”
“Earn it somewhere else, carpetbagger,” the kid said, and pushed her.
She stumbled into Billy. He caught and steadied her, which was pretty good luck for Billy, really. He lifted his head to tell the skinhead something appropriate (You wanna push somebody, push me;, something like that), but the kid was already in his face.
“You got something to say to me, dickhead?” the kid said. The other punks were gathering around. Customers quietly left the line. “You better be opening your mouth to tell me you’re a UA man.”
“Just keep your hands off her.”
“Which is it? Who you with, man, Mickey Dees or BKs? It’s gotta be one or the other, who you with?”
“I’m just buying some burgers,” Billy said. “Come on, man, you don’t need to—”
“US Alliance sucks dick!” the coupon girl said, and everything fell apart from there.
73 Vantage
Violet walked away from the school gate until Buy had driven away. Then she turned and walked back. Kate was already a long way up the path, about to enter a building. “Hey! Kate!” Violet shouted. But Kate didn’t turn. “Shit,” Violet said.
She entered the school. The other children looked at her curiously. She smiled back at them.
The guard caught her as she stepped into the building. “Ma’am? I’m going to have to ask you to leave the school grounds.”
“Oh,” Violet said, startled. “Hi. I’m just—” She craned her neck. She could see Kate through the glass of one of the classrooms. “My daughter forgot her lunch money.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, you can’t be on these grounds.”
“But she’s right there. I’ll just give her the money and go.” The guard was much taller than her. She smiled and tried to look harmless.
“Well, be quick now,” the guard said, and Violet hurried past him.
In the classroom, Kate was unpacking her bag, alone. She looked up as Violet entered. “Hi, Kate.”
“Hi.”
“I need you to come with me now. It’s very important. Okay?”
“Where?”
“To… the vet hospital. You want to come help some sick animals with me?”
“Um,” Kate said. “No thanks.”
“Sure you do,” Violet said. “You like vets, right? So let’s go.” “I want to stay here.”
“Yeah, well,” she said. “You’re coming.” She put her hand on Kate’s arm.
“Let go of me!”
Violet tugged her. Kate screamed. Violet tried to cover her mouth. Kate bit her fingers. “Owww!” Violet yelled. She snatched back her hand and slapped Kate across the face. Kate fell out of the desk and started crawling across the floor. Violet sn
ared her ankles and pulled her back. “Come here!”
She heard the door open: the guard. “What’s going on?”
“She’s—having a seizure!” Violet said. “Help, quick!”
The guard kneeled beside her. Kate was twisting and shrieking like a wild cat. “Why is she bleeding?” the guard said, and Violet pulled out her gun—well, John’s gun, really—and pressed it to his head.
“Okay,” she said. “Now you lie down and don’t move for a while.” She looked at Kate. “Are you ready to be a good girl for me?”
Kate nodded. Her teeth were chattering. That was weird. It was about eighty degrees in here.
“Good. Because if you try to run, I’ll have to hurt you. Okay?”
Kate whimpered.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Violet said. She pulled Kate out of the classroom. The guard didn’t make a sound. Violet felt relieved. That was the hard part done. Now she just had to collect her money. She had a good feeling about this.
They caught a cab back to Violet’s apartment and she led Kate into the kitchen. “You hungry? You want something to eat?” The phone was ringing; she picked it up. “Hello?”
“Is that Violet?”
“John!” she said, pleased. “I was just going to call you.”
“Do you have Kate?”
“I do! Want to talk to her?”
“I—no, that’s not necessary.”
“Okay,” Violet said.
“You’ll be pleased to know I’ve kept my end of the deal. I have your money.”
Her heart leapt. “Already? How? What did you do to Holly?”
“I was very persuasive,” John said. Violet’s heart thrilled. She wanted details; she wanted to hear all about it. “Got a pen and paper? I’m going to tell you where to make the swap.”
She wrote down the address. “A Nike Town store?”
“It’s nice and public. Makes sure there won’t be any funny business.”