by Tracy Lawson
“Josephine!” She jumped and whirled around. The young quadrant marshal who’d been at the diner hurried to her side and fell into step with her. “It’s me—Seamus. Remember? How did you know to come in tonight? He just got here about an hour ago. I’ll get your paperwork, and then you can see him if you want to.”
Confused, she followed Seamus into an office, where he handed her a sealed envelope. Then he led her to a set of double doors at the end of the hall.
“He’s in the chapel. Do you want me to go in with you?”
She shook her head.
“All right. If you need anything, let me know.”
She hesitated outside the door until Seamus was out of sight and then slit the envelope. She flipped through pages. Most of it made no sense, but she read every word of the death benefit form. So that’s what a death benefit is—money! Wes left me money. She skimmed the rest of the pages until she found a form authorizing the transfer of Wes’s death benefit to another registered debit account. It required a parent’s signature for anyone underage. She nearly cried in frustration. Well, how else did you think they’d give it to you? She thought for a moment. There’s more than one way around that. She shoved the papers into her jacket pocket. She tiptoed inside and hesitated behind the last row of pews. She’d never seen a dead person before. Especially not someone who was family.
Her father stood in front of an open black casket, head bowed, and spoke to his brother more kindly than she could remember him doing when Wes was alive.
“Sometimes I forgot you were a kid. I put a lot of pressure on you. Maybe I relied on you too much.” A harsh sob, almost like a laugh, escaped his throat. “I guess we’re out of chances to get it right, little brother.”
Suddenly she wanted to see him, too, and went to stand beside her father. He did a double take, put his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into a tight hug. She stared at Wes over her father’s shoulder. He looked peaceful, but wherever he was, she bet he was angry. He’d missed his chances. She vowed that she’d figure out a way to complete the job he’d left undone.
Chapter 27
2:15 AM
Wednesday, December 6, 2034
Quadrant OP-439
Henry Nelson pulled on his riot gear—the bulletproof breastplate and the helmet with the face guard. He’d never worn it for anything but practice drills before. He grabbed his shield and fell into line with the Special Forces group who’d been rushed in from the MV quadrants. He didn’t see any of the marshals from his command post. He climbed into a Jeep with three other marshals he didn’t recognize. There were so many tanks in the convoy that he felt like part of an invading army.
The vehicles fell in line, and the ominous rumble echoed in the otherwise quiet streets. Lights went out in some of the houses as they passed, but here and there he saw movement behind curtains and blinds.
The driver followed an armored transport vehicle onto the front lawn of a two-story brick house. Marshals piled out of both vehicles, and two of them rushed the front door, splintering it on the second swing of their battering ram. As Nelson and the rest of his team ran across the lawn, a stun grenade’s flash pierced the darkness inside the house. He stopped in his tracks; someone jostled him as they ran by.
Before he got inside, some of the marshals reappeared, dragging out the family of five who lived there. All were in their pajamas, their hands cinched behind them with plastic zip ties. One of the marshals shoved the woman as they herded the family onto the front lawn, and Nelson stepped forward and caught her by the elbow to keep her from falling. The man struggled against the marshal who gripped him by the arm, panic and bewilderment on his face. “We’ve done nothing wrong!”
“Your children took part in the protests on campus. They are in direct violation of Restrictions. And what about this?” The marshal wrenched the teenaged daughter’s arms up in an unnatural position to show the back of her hand, which bore the CXD symbol.
“Daddy!” The girl screamed as she squirmed, trying to escape the painful contortion. She burst into tears as the marshal dragged her toward a waiting van. The son, silent but visibly trembling, put up less of a fight. The two marshals who manhandled him across the lawn laughed when he staggered and fell, and then hauled him up and shoved him into the van after his sister.
“Where are you taking my children?”
The squad leader snarled. “Your children, sir, have engaged in treasonous activities. It’s none of your business where they’re going.”
The wife’s knees buckled, and Nelson tightened his grip. Their younger boy, maybe ten years old, stood barefoot on the lawn, nervously hopping from foot to foot, his blue pajamas too thin to protect him from the December night.
The squad leader stepped up until his face was just inches away from the man’s nose. “You’ve endangered this child by allowing him to be exposed to your older children’s seditious activities. We’ll be taking him as well, to make sure his mind doesn’t get too polluted.”
The boy looked over his shoulder, panting like an animal caught in a trap, and called out to his mother as he was led away to a different van.
“Jason! Don’t worry! It’s going to be all right, sweetie.” The van door closed, and the woman’s voice choked off into sobs.
Nelson looked around. The scene was the same at a house across the street and two doors down.
A third van screeched to a stop in the driveway, and one of the marshals slid open the side door. It was half-full of adults, all still in their nightclothes. Nelson guided the faltering woman toward the van. He was about to help her step inside when an earth-shattering boom made them both jump and cower.
Another marshal stepped up and shoved the woman inside, sliding the door closed after her.
He pounded a gloved fist into his other palm. “That’ll teach ’em! Guess we won’t have much trouble in this quadrant after tonight.”
Nelson felt a swell of satisfaction. The dissidents had brought this chaos on themselves.
Chapter 28
5:30 AM
Quadrant YP-145
Tommy stirred as the truck rolled to a stop, tires crunching in the gravel along the side of the road; he came fully awake at the sight of the QM patrol car’s flashing lights as they danced and reflected off the windshield and mirrors.
Danni glanced at the rearview and spoke through gritted teeth. “Turn your face toward the window. Pretend you’re asleep. Let me handle this.” Two marshals approached the truck on the driver’s side, and she rolled down the window.
“Travel pass and identification.”
Danni took the travel pass off the dashboard and handed it out the window, along with an ID card.
One of the marshals scrutinized them in the beam from his flashlight. “You’re out way past curfew. That your boyfriend?”
“Not really.”
“Wake him up so we can check his ID.”
“How about I don’t? What if it’s just us and …” She fumbled around on the floor for a second and came up with the bottle “Jack?”
One of them made an approving sound. “Have it your way, darlin’. You and Jack step out of the vehicle.”
Tommy heard someone open the tailgate and lift the tarp. There was some rummaging around, and then the gate slammed closed. Danni said something he couldn’t make out, her voice low and throaty. One of the marshals laughed. He heard their footsteps recede, and then the patrol car door opened and closed. He lost track of the minutes. The door slammed again, and then the patrol car’s engine revved as it sped off.
Danni climbed back into the driver’s seat and took a swig from the bottle of whiskey, spat it out the window, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The dread that washed over him was for her safety, not his own.
“What happened?”
As she pushed back her tousled hair, the memory of making out with her rose unbidden to his mind. “Sometimes they only want a share of the food.” She shrugged and handed him the bottle.
“Doesn’t matter whether I’m legit or not.” She put the truck in gear. “Black market dealers sometimes had to charm marshals with bribes and other favors. My charm, if you wanna call it that, kept me out of jail more than once. To some of our fine law enforcement officers, nothing’s changed.” She paused. “Like I said, before you get in any deeper, you’d better know exactly why you chose this fight.” Tears sparkled in her eyes, and he felt his own well up in sympathy. “It’s okay. Really. I give in without a fuss, they take what they want, and we all move on.”
“You didn’t have to do that for me.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
Her words stung, and he took another drink.
Chapter 29
7:30 AM
Quadrant DC-001
Madalyn answered the early-morning summons to the Oval Office with no idea how to explain Tom Bailey’s impending arrival in the capital; everyone believed he and Lara had died in an auto accident last July.
She’d had nothing to do with it. She hadn’t been part of the power struggle between Tom and Lowell or Lowell’s decision about how to resolve it. Her own worry centered around the fact that the rest of the Resistance had somehow disappeared into the wilderness. The president’s personal secretary had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention before she ushered her in to where President Wright and another man rose to greet her.
“Madam Director, this is Senator Brandon Renald, soon to be the new assistant director of the OCSD.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’ll be making his appointment official this afternoon. You’ll remember he’s been a senator for six terms, chaired the Subcommittee on Crime and Terrorism, and has also been a member of the Select Committee on Intelligence. He has experience in matters related to security and terrorism.”
“But, sir—”
“I realize things have been extremely disorganized since Lowell’s death. You need someone to help you share responsibility. I’m sure you’ll find his expertise most welcome.”
Someone with experience? That’s the last thing I need. “I’ve already selected a new assistant director,” she blurted in desperation. “I didn’t have time to tell you; we’ve been so awfully busy. The QM just apprehended one of the leaders of the Resistance. They’re en route, and I will personally take charge of the interrogation when he arrives.”
“But whom did you appoint? Surely you can agree Senator Renald’s experience would make him a valuable asset to the OCSD.”
The president appeared completely disinterested in the news of the arrest, and that left her wrong-footed. I guess we’re not through talking about Renald. I don’t want him spying on me. I need someone who won’t make me look bad. But who? “Of course, sir, but my new assistant director has already been quite helpful. Indispensable. Perhaps there’s a place for Senator Renald in another agency if he’s tired of being a senator.”
”I’ll expect you and the new assistant director here at noon. Senator, I’d be pleased if you’re able to attend.”
She smiled to mask her panic. “We’ll look forward to seeing you then.”
On the drive back to the OCSD building, Madalyn mentally compiled a short list of potential assistant directors. But who could she produce with a mere four hours’ notice? Her only option was Kevin. He’d worked at the OCSD for years without showing any signs of the ambition and guile that made one successful. On the contrary, he’d been pleasant, open and friendly.
She could boss him around; she’d been doing it for years. His intellect was unlikely to make her look bad. She fished out her phone. It was going to take an army to get her new assistant ready for a presidential inspection.
9:00 AM
Tom Bailey, flanked by the three marshals who’d transported him to the capital, strode into the lobby at the Office of Civilian Safety and Defense. His jeans, borrowed from Mitch, were belted tight at the waist and hung off his lanky frame, but they would’ve done so even if he’d regained all the weight he’d lost while he was imprisoned. As he endured a security pat down, he caught sight of himself in the mirrored elevator door. He hadn’t had a black eye in thirty years, but this one made up for it. Purple bruising spread from his left brow to his cheekbone, and his lip was cut and swollen. When had he last had a haircut? In his camouflage jacket, he looked more like the leader of a rebellion than an attorney.
Two security guards escorted him upstairs to a sitting room and took up positions on either side of the door. He paced the plush carpet as he reviewed what he intended to say to Madalyn, but forgot everything when his ex-best friend, Art Severson, stepped into the room. He accepted the proffered hand, smiling until Art dismissed the security guards who hovered at his elbow. As soon as they were alone, he caught Art off guard with a right hook to the jaw.
Art staggered back, shock registering on his face before he composed himself. “Your kid hits harder than you do.”
“Then you ought to be glad he’s not here.”
“You should be, as well. Did you know there’s a warrant out for his arrest?”
“Was it you who pressed charges?”
“I didn’t have to. A witness identified him at the bombing in OP-439. Apparently they’ve got a good description of him—plus his DNA on a gun. Add that to whatever Careen Catecher might have said about him during questioning, and there was more than enough to issue a warrant. Of course, when the time comes, I’ll be glad to make a list of all the laws he was breaking that day he assaulted me at the lake house.”
“I might have known you’d find plenty of kindred spirits at the OCSD. But honestly, I’m disappointed.”
“Hey, it was you who drew me into this web of lies and deceit, my friend.”
“Where’s Madalyn? I assumed I’d be meeting with her.”
“She couldn’t fit you into her schedule on such short notice.”
“Oh, I’m confident she’ll make time to see me. Perhaps it would speed things up if you intervened on my behalf.” Art bristled at the sarcasm.
“Look, I tried to help you last summer when you were in hot water, and nothing good came of it. You and your problems wrecked my marriage. Now I’m salvaging what I can. Just think—you could be looking at the next assistant director of the OCSD. But don’t make the mistake of considering me an ally.” Art sneered as he stepped into the hall. “Good luck planning your revolution—or whatever it is you tell yourself you’re doing. Coming here was a stupid move.”
Tom heard the click of the lock and resumed his pacing.
9:15 AM
As Madalyn came into his room, Kevin caught sight of two massive guards lurking in the hall. She looked at him, puzzled, and he glanced down. He’d been wearing the guard uniform for the last four days, and compared to the real thing, he looked like a kid dressed up for Halloween. She was too wild-eyed and frantic to be interested in the details, and he didn’t volunteer an explanation.
“You’ve got to shower and shave right away. The tailor’s on his way up.”
“Why?”
“The president tried to appoint some senator as my new assistant director; he wants someone looking over my shoulder. I told him I’d already appointed you. We have a meeting in three hours. I’ve brought in a team to make sure you look the part. Hurry! We’re wasting time.”
“Wait—what?”
She looked annoyed that he hadn’t comprehended. “After the problems with CSD and the food riots … can you even begin to imagine the pressure I’ve been under? It isn’t easy to run things the way Lowell did. The president doesn’t trust me. Garrick thinks I’m a joke.” She paused. “I can’t believe I just told you all that. You do want the job, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Actually, he did. Once he’d have given his right arm for a chance like this. Now, he could on
ly hope that he’d be up to the task of sabotaging Madalyn while working right under her nose.
She was halfway out the door when she called over her shoulder, “Come upstairs when they’re finished with you.”
Chapter 30
10:45 AM
Tom felt his pulse quicken, ready for battle, as the two guards escorted him to the director’s office. Madalyn rose from her chair as he stepped inside. He shook his head. “Maddie, hasn’t this gone on long enough?”
Her face contorted, and she snapped at the guards, who made a hasty exit, closing the door behind them. “You’re looking a little rough around the edges.”
“I think I look pretty good for someone who’s been dead for five months.”
“Yes, that is quite a while. Long enough that no one cares about you or your opinions anymore. No one would notice if you disappeared for good this time.”
“That’s not going to happen. Plenty of people know I’m here, and I’ve got an insurance policy. If I don’t walk out of here unscathed, I’ll become a voice from the grave, divulging all the carefully hidden scandals of your past. You can’t stop the truth, Maddie. It always comes out.” More kindly, he asked, “In over your head again, aren’t you?”
“No.” She folded her arms on her chest and glared at him. “But I certainly don’t have time to worry about you spreading rumors about things that happened ages ago.”
“Oh, I won’t tell unless you force me to. And some of them are definitely worse than others. Personally, I think the reason you were thrown out of law school is the least of your worries now.”
“Then how about we discuss current events, like the warrant for your son’s arrest? Seems he was part of a Resistance-led terrorist attack. Like father, like son?”