State of Emergency: Jack Emery 2

by Steve P Vincent

  “Take it easy, guys.” He looked down at Celeste, who was cowering in fear, and he thought back to their experiences in China. “This doesn’t need to happen like this.”

  The officers ignored him and one of them stepped toward the bed and addressed Celeste. “I need you to show me your hands, miss, then I’m going to pull back the covers and you’re going to climb out of the bed and get dressed. It’s important that you make no sudden movements.”

  Jack started to protest, but was pulled back by the officer holding him. The one with the pistol trained on him stepped forward an inch. “You need to calm down.”

  He took a breath to compose himself. “You’re here for me, fellas. This is stupid.”

  “Calm down.”

  Jack watched as Celeste pulled her hands out over the covers, then placed them down slowly. She sobbed. “I’m naked under here, guys, can I have a minute?”

  “Negative. I’m going to pull back the covers and you’re going to climb out of the bed.” The officer repeated himself. “Remember, no sudden movements.”

  She nodded and bit her lip as the officer held his pistol in one hand and ripped the covers off the bed with the other. Jack felt the anger well inside of him as he watched Celeste start to sob harder. She kept her hands exactly where they’d been, not even daring to cover up, though she did press her legs together. His face burned red at her humiliation, but any protest he made would just make things worse. He kept his mouth shut.

  “Okay, get up.” The officer reached onto the floor and tossed her a blouse. He then spoke into the radio that was mounted on his shoulder. “All clear. Suspect located and detained.”

  Jack found his voice again. “What now?”

  “Look, pal.” The officer holding the pistol on him spoke. “We’re not here for you, but if you don’t pipe down, you’re coming in too. Okay?”

  “Who are you here for, then?” Celeste, now dressed, turned to the officer. “Me?”

  “You.”

  To her credit, she sensed that further protest was pointless. “Okay.”

  Jack had no such sense. “Come on. She’s a journalist, not a terrorist.”

  The only officer who hadn’t spoken yet piped in. “I don’t care. One more word and you’ll be sitting next to her in the van.”

  Jack started forward, causing the officer with the pistol on him to tense slightly. Celeste locked eyes with him and shook her head very slightly. She was clearly thinking that there was no point both of them being locked up. He rocked back on the balls of his feet and didn’t move any further as the officer relaxed and Celeste was led from the room. Only then did they uncuff him and leave.

  ***

  “One thousand in Illinois alone?” Mariposa looked up from the report that Murray Devereaux had handed her.

  Murray chewed on his gum. “Yeah, and they picked up some doozies. Everything from an eighteen-year-old to a ninety-three-year-old. Real threats to security.”

  “Seems a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it?” She shook her head and placed the report on the table.

  He shrugged and placed his coffee on top of the document, showing what he thought of its value. It was a hundred pages long, a dossier of every Guerrilla Radio sympathizer who’d been picked up across Illinois by a mix of police and State Guard. She knew the same action had taken place in other states as well, in an attempt by the administrator to clamp down on the activity of Guerrilla Radio and, in turn, stem the growth of the resistance.

  She sighed. “Command tells me it’s to wrap up the Guerrilla Radio network that’s popped up, but it seems like a big show of force and an awful lot of people to detain.”

  “Fuck command. They’ve screwed the pooch on this whole episode. Why attack the friends and family?” He snorted, his disdain for what had happened clear on his face. “That’s some Stasi-type shit right there. If you know who’s breaking the law, take them down, but as far as I can see these folks are innocent.”

  She nodded and left it at that. He was right. Her new job gave her huge access to information she’d previously been denied and most of it disgusted her. It told her that they were no closer to stopping the attacks around the whole country, that the presence of Guerrilla Radio was growing, and that FEMA’s actions were getting increasingly desperate – and violent – to keep order. The detention of thousands of people was the latest attempt.

  “I wonder what the story is in other states.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Classified.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

  “Thanks, Murray.”

  She was glad he took the hint. He picked up his coffee and left her office. She leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. Every negative thought she’d had about FEMA and the path it was on came crashing back. She’d done her best to busy herself with work, trying to hide away her larger concerns, but even that dam was starting to crack and spew out negative thoughts. Her career. Her pay check. Her colleagues. Her safety. Her son. All were reasons to will away the ill-feeling she had about everything that was happening. But it wasn’t enough. With each draconian measure she signed off on, the further into the maw of evil she felt herself slipping.

  Sooner or later, she knew that the Nuremberg defense wouldn’t hold up against her conscience. Doing something that she disagreed with because she was ordered to, even if she spoke out against it occasionally, was not acceptable. She was as culpable as the drone pilots firing on Indianapolis or the SWAT teams who’d kicked in doors and arrested thousands of innocent people around the country. She made her decision. She stood up, walked out of her office and toward the central meeting point where they held the staff briefings. She pressed the button that started the chime, then she waited in silence while the whole staff came together.

  “Thanks, everyone.” She smiled, wanting to convey as normal an impression as possible. “We’re not doing a briefing, unless anyone has anything critical?”

  She looked to each of the managers, who looked to their staff in turn. There were a few confused faces, but mostly a lot of shaking heads. Illinois was buttoned up pretty tight. Incidents like the arrests aside, there wasn’t much happening. Her team was doing a great job at what they’d been ordered to do, which broke her heart all the more. It was all wrong. She steeled herself for the path she was about to start down.

  “Okay, given everything is under control, I’ve informed command that I’m sending you all home early for the day.” She smiled at the lie, and as faces around the room brightened she caught sight of Murray looking at her carefully. “It’s been a long time since any of you spent some real time with your families, so off you go.”

  “What about our work?” Murray spoke up, asking what everyone else was likely thinking.

  She lied again. “Area IV is going to take care of any non-essential overflow for the day and we’ll be doing the same for them next week. If anything comes up, you’ll be contacted. Enjoy yourselves.”

  She smiled one last time then returned to her office. She left the door open and sat down, busying herself with paperwork as the staff cleared out quickly – it was as if they thought the bubble might burst or she might change her mind. She kept her head down and tried her best to ward off the doubts that were creeping in. The minute the last staff member walked out, there was no turning back.

  She closed the manila folder that held the file she was reading and walked from her office. She needed to make sure everyone had left. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw Murray leaning against one of the cubicle partitions right outside her office, blowing bubbles with his gum. She punched him in the arm and he responded with a smile and another bubble.

  “What’s the story?” His voice was firm. “Sending everyone home for a little R and R? Right after we discussed how much of a joke those arrests were?”

  “It’s fine, Murray. Really. I just think we’re all spread a bit too thinly right now and I wanted to give everyone a break.” She wasn’t lying, technically. “You s
hould go too.”

  “Okay, I’ll walk out with you?” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow when she didn’t move. “Didn’t think so. I want a piece of whatever you’re up to.”

  She sighed. Now that she’d finally made a decision and put in place the first part of it, the last thing she wanted was to have an argument with Murray. He was her best friend at the office and she didn’t want him caught up in what she was about to do. Worse, if he wouldn’t budge, not only would he be implicated but she wouldn’t achieve what she had to either. He had to go.

  “Murray, I want you to go home now. Please.” She turned back into her office, and nearly roared with frustration when he followed her.

  “Nope.” He moved closer to her, standing inches away as she backed up against the desk. “Tell me what you’re up to.”

  She sighed. It was time to fight dirty. “Murray, this is your last chance. We’re friends, but now I’m giving you an order as your superior. You need to leave.”

  “No.” He crossed his arms. “Not until I know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m doing my job. But if you keep it up and continue to disobey my instructions, I’m going to issue you with a formal warning. That’d be your third, wouldn’t it?”

  “You wouldn’t!” He backed away, fury in his eyes. “I’d lose my job! You know that!”

  She did know that. She kept her voice sharp. “I do. Now I want you to go home.”

  Her heart broke as he looked at the floor. His fists were balled at his sides and he started to say something, then shook his head. He turned and left the room without saying anything further. She sighed and felt the tension drain out of her, but knew that she’d crossed a much more final precipice than the treason she was about to commit. Her friendship with Murray was damaged, perhaps destroyed.

  She dug through the paperwork on her desk, picking out the most important pieces. A few tears splashed against the papers as she gathered them together, but she ignored them. She was no expert in the release of information, but she was going to photocopy and scan the heck out of anything she could find that she considered to be a breach of FEMA’s mandate.

  If she was successful in distributing the information, she might begin to end the organization’s vice-like grip on the country. If nothing else, she was confident she could have some success locally and make life for the residents of Illinois a bit easier. She picked up the stack of hastily gathered paperwork and moved towards the photocopier. It was all about to change.

  ***

  Richard smiled at the White House staffer as she opened the door leading into the Oval Office. He adjusted his tie absentmindedly and then walked inside. On the other side of the room, President Helen Morris was consumed by paperwork, a feeling he knew all too well. He’d only just reached the bottom of his pile. It surprised him that she had so much to do, considering he was running the country.

  She was concentrating and hadn’t noticed him enter. She had her head resting in one hand and a pen in the other. He stopped and coughed quietly. She looked up and her eyes blinked a couple of times, as if he’d pulled her out of a deep trance. She appeared tired and drawn, but a broad smile cracked through the gloom on her face like sun on an overcast day.

  “Madam President.” Richard stood as tall as he could. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

  “Hi Richard.” She held the smile and gestured him toward the sofa. “Thanks for coming in.”

  “No problem. I was surprised though.” He knew as he sat that he shouldn’t have said it, but couldn’t resist. What had once been a rarity for him – meeting alone with the President – had become common since the state of emergency was declared. He had a mountain of work and no time for this, but he knew that with power came the need to reassure the person who’d given it to him and who, if pushed, could theoretically take it away again.

  “Why?” She winced as she sat heavily on the lounge opposite him, obviously in pain from too many hours at a desk. “I want an update on our efforts to stop the attacks.”

  Richard caught his sigh before it showed obvious disrespect. He didn’t have time for this. “Did you see the latest report?”

  She raised an eyebrow, but he held her gaze. “I don’t want paperwork, Richard. I gave you the responsibility to end this, and I want to hear it from your mouth.”

  He wondered why he bothered to have his staff compile enormous reports of FEMA’s operations and successes if she was just going to cast them aside. He had a preferred way of working, a proven way of working, and by asking for a verbal update she was shitting all over that. This was one of the reasons he’d grown tired of waiting for a great leader to come along, the reason he’d had to take over. Why couldn’t she recognize that things were under control and just sit back and watch?

  Sitting in front of him was a pale caricature of a President. Morris had been a fierce woman. She’d roared through the Washington establishment like a firestorm following the revelations about the Foundation for a New America. No corner of government had been spared the excision of corruption. All had felt her wrath equally and Richard had gained an enormous respect for the woman’s sense of order. That had been the high point.

  Now she was a frightened shell. She’d proven to be the same disappointment that most of her predecessors had ended up being. She’d been unable to grapple with the dysfunction, unable to fend off the rent seekers, unable to bend the country to her will and do what was needed to save it. The attacks had overwhelmed her ability to lead, and she’d looked for someone – anyone – to save her. Richard would provide that salvation. It would be his legacy.

  “I see.” He kept his voice level. “In short, the number of major terrorist attacks has fallen significantly since the commencement of the special arrangements. We’re not out of the woods yet, but the steps we’ve taken are working.”

  Morris looked over her glasses, then sighed and removed them. “Don’t play me for the fool, Richard. Indianapolis. The agitation in the south. Though they were dealt with, all were serious.”

  “Different matters.” He shrugged. “Those were the work of traitors and rebellious elements who don’t want to toe the line, not terrorists. They’re reacting to our movements to end the bigger threat.”

  “What’s the difference?” Morris looked unconvinced. “An attack is an attack.”

  Richard frowned. “I disagree. Terrorism is an attempt to instill chaos. These attacks are quite different – they’re a response to order, a rebellion against the effort we’re making to stabilize our country.”

  She seemed to consider his words carefully. “Okay, assuming I accept your proposition, what’re we doing about it?”

  He smiled. “The worst of the rebellious activity is being fuelled by the underground media. I’ve countered it.”

  “Will it be enough?”

  “I think so.” He was counting on it.

  “Fine. I’m not thrilled though. I hate seeing us kill civilians and members of the military like in Indianapolis – rebellious or not.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “Beyond that, if the attacks have stopped – the real attacks – then we can look to pull the plug on the state of emergency and the executive orders.”

  “That would be a mistake, I’m afraid.” He’d seen this coming – she was so predictable. He rattled off his rehearsed lines. “Even though the attacks have stopped, it’s more because of the increased security than anything else. We haven’t yet apprehended any of those responsible for the attacks.”

  “Sorry, Richard. You said it yourself, the attacks have slowed. It’s time to end the emergency measures and get things back to normal. The rest will melt away.”

  He kept his features even. “I’m not certain that’s true. If we revoke the state of emergency, we’re likely to see more attacks and carnage.”

  “More deaths.” She sighed and paused, apparently deep in thought. “So what do you need to smoke out those responsible for the attacks and to defeat this rebellion? I’m of a mind to mo
bilize the military to end this thing once and for all. Maybe the Joint Chiefs were right all along.”

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees but with his hands held out. “I can assure you that things are under control, Madam President. FEMA and the State Guard are preventing many attacks, and those that do occur are being contained and cleaned up as best as we can.”

  “Okay, and finding those responsible? Dealing with the resistance?”

  “I’m in the process of taking care of the resistance and our efforts to find the original attackers continue. Our operations haven’t been perfect, but close to it. My strong advice is to stay the course as planned.” He knew she’d go with it. To revoke his powers and risk reigniting the worst of the attacks seen months ago was a chance she wouldn’t take.

  She sat back in the chair with her arms crossed, stared at him for a few long moments, then exhaled deeply. “Look, Richard, I’m going to be blunt. The reason I turned to you is that you’re a lot more effective than the rest of the blowhards. I’m not entirely satisfied, but you’ve made a good start. But I want no more civilian casualties from FEMA operations.”

  He nodded, though he had no intention of complying. “I’ll continue to get results.”

  CHAPTER 11

  FEMA, the State Guard and police across the country have arrested a large number of individuals on terror-related charges. The operation was the result of much hard work and investigation, aimed at disrupting the propaganda machine and communications networks of the perpetrators of recent terror attacks. Administrator Hall praised the work of all involved.

  Federal Emergency Management Agency

  News Release