“We were attacked by one of the group from the back of the parking lot,” Alejandro pointed to the convoy of vehicles. “I need to get her to the emergency center right now. Lea will be coming out of the store soon. Can you tell her where we went?”
“Yes, of course,” Mike answered as he helped Alejandro get Juana into the passenger seat of their car.
*****
Juana had mostly calmed as they began their drive. She had not spoken much during the whole event. She lifted the shirt from her arm as much as she could to look and it turned out to be a mistake. Seeing the severed flesh and the oozing blood caused her to panic again.
“Juana! Juana! Just keep putting pressure on it. We’re almost to the doctor,” Alejandro yelled over his wife’s crying and moaning as he tried to focus on the road.
He was driving as fast as he ever had through the small town. The car bounced and creaked. The tires squealed as he turned corners too quickly. Alejandro was inexperienced in the race car style driving and ended up in the opposite lane a few times. Fortunately, there weren’t any other cars driving in the opposite direction and the drive to the emergency care center was only a few minutes through the town. Juana continued to wail in pain as she held the now blood-soaked shirt tightly against her forearm.
Chapter Fourteen
Thick pine forest peppered with leafless maple trees passed below. Marcus stared down out of the helicopter. He could see a road a few miles to the north that their flight seemed to be paralleling. Patches of snow from a storm that had passed the area about a week earlier could be seen through the trees on the forest floor. There seemed to be a haziness blanketing the land. Marcus wondered if there were fires from rioting somewhere near the area they were over. The monotony of the flight paired with the constant hum of the helicopter’s engine caused Marcus to doze off every once in a while for a few minutes. The seats were a cushy leather and they seemed to pull Marcus closer as if in a giant bear hug. He had slept for around six hours or so before having to ready himself for another long day. Six hours seemed sufficient for him to last another day. He had been a little annoyed at the hurry up and wait situation of the morning. They had all arrived on time, yet they all sat around for an hour and a half before their flight began.
He awoke after one of his couple minute long naps and looked away from the window towards his cameraman, Blake. He was across from Marcus and sunken low in his chair in a deep sleep, mouth hanging open. Blake was Marcus’s usual cameraman when he did on-location interviews or stories. He wasn’t much for conversation, though. Blake was all business. He would typically only speak to Marcus about work related items such as camera placement for an interview. To Marcus’s left sat two CMA employees. One in a suit and the other in a military or SWAT-like uniform. It was mostly black with some blue and white decorations. Marcus took note of the CMA uniform and patch. He thought it was another interesting fact that Thomas would like to know. The suit’s name was Anthony. He had told Marcus that he would be accompanying him anytime he would be doing stories on the Central Management Authority and their operations. Another tidbit for Thomas. Marcus thought Anthony looked like the kind of guy that would push you into the tiger pad at the zoo for his own entertainment. Maybe it was his disdain for the CMA that made him immediately dislike him, however, Marcus did think Anthony had a constant evil grin pasted on his face.
Marcus turned back to the window on his right. He figured they were in far north-eastern Pennsylvania. The suit had told him they’d be a little ways northwest of Manhattan. This particular CMA refugee camp wouldn’t be ready for a couple of days. Anthony wanted to cover this one first because it would be mostly quiet. Marcus was to leave the location out of the story since it wasn’t ready yet. Next, they would fly to a regional supply depot for all the area camps. They would round out their day covering CMA buses gathering people in Philadelphia and then the camp west of Philadelphia that would be accepting all the new refugees. Marcus could see the good in having camps to relieve rural areas from being flooded with refugees. At the same time, he thought of it all as a self-fulfilling prophecy. Take away the people’s government and the complex system the country lived on and then, of course, you would need somebody like the CMA to swoop in and save the day.
The thick forest stopped abruptly and fields of tan dormant grass began to fill Marcus’s window. Marcus straightened himself in his seat as the outer portions of the camp came into view. There was row after row of large white tents. They almost looked like the type that people rent for weddings. Each tent had a large black sign with a letter and number painted in white hung above the tent’s opening.
“Pretty impressive isn’t it?” Anthony yelled over the engine noise.
“How is this already set up?” Marcus ignored the question and asked his own.
Blake awoke from the yelling and was now looking out of his window down at the camp. He quickly reached into his backpack that sat in between his legs and produced a small camcorder. He started filming the camp from the air as they arrived.
“Some of our country’s leadership had anticipated the government failing and disintegrating so they put the whole work in motion,” Anthony twirled his finger in the air as he yelled in reply.
Marcus nodded his head in response and turned back to the window. They were descending quickly now and he reached down and tightened his seatbelt. He could see crews of workers putting up fencing and others still erecting tents. He thought the camp looked mostly complete other than a little bit more perimeter fencing. It made Marcus wonder if the fencing was to keep out or keep in. There was no telling how many more tents were going to be put up. He saw a dozen or so eighteen wheeler semi-trucks that workers were entering and leaving carrying supplies. He figured some could still be completely full.
A few minutes later they all ducked out of the helicopter and regrouped in front of a tent about fifty yards away. The whine of the helicopter’s turbine engine winding down along with the whump whump whump of the slowing blades could be heard as they all stretched their arms and legs by the tent.
“Most of the construction should be complete by day’s end,” Anthony said as if he read Marcus’s thoughts. “Tomorrow the staff will be here unloading more trucks with supplies to run the camp. After the camp is supplied, probably next day, this camp will be ready to accept people and be fully operational.”
“Well,” Marcus said and then paused for a moment, “...things sure do move fast with you guys.”
“When plans are made and set in motion, there’s no stopping us,” Anthony said, widening the permanent grin on his face. “You two should start getting some basic footage of the camp and workers finishing up things. I’ll find you two in a little bit and we’ll go over what should go in the newscast.”
“Go over?” Marcus asked. “You don’t want us to do our thing? We are pretty good at it.”
“We can compare notes. No offense. I know you are professionals, but WWNL is now technically a subsidiary of the CMA. As a public relations matter, coverage of the CMA needs to be monitored. You understand, I’m sure. I guarantee WWNL wouldn’t want any unfavorable publicity without a fine tooth comb meticulously analyzing everything possible to make them appear in the best light possible.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Are you anticipating these refugee camps will give the CMA bad publicity?”
“Oh, no. Of course not,” Anthony quickly answered. “I was just saying as an example. Anyways, like I said, I’ll find you in a little bit.” Anthony turned and went inside the tent. Marcus could tell that he seemed a bit annoyed.
Marcus and Blake spent the better part of the next hour walking around the camp recording footage of people working on tents and fencing. They went in the tents as well to record sleeping areas, bathroom facilities, and kitchen and dining. Marcus was quite impressed with how nice everything seemed. Everything was brand new. He had pictured in his mind old tattered military materials. A government that couldn’t even support to maintain
its’ own military and many agencies and programs could somehow afford to build brand new miniature cities all over the U.S.
“This is just all too weird,” Marcus said to Blake.
“How so?” Blake asked.
“Just a week ago I never would have pictured refugee camps being built everywhere across the country. Now we are walking around one. It’s surreal. Why did the government...rather, a government corporation, have all of this stuff?” Marcus asked as he looked around shaking his head.
“I always figured the government always had this stuff on hand,” Blake answered. “Maybe it was all FEMA equipment.”
Marcus and Blake were several tents down from the tent that Anthony had disappeared into earlier. They saw him walk out of the tent and look around while putting a phone to his ear. A moment later Marcus felt the CMA phone in his pocket vibrate. They began walking towards Anthony as he answered it. Anthony spotted them and they both hung up.
“Where would be best to do the story portion of this?” Anthony asked as they approached each other.
Blake answered before Marcus could, “Back at the studio would be ideal since we aren’t doing this live. But, we could film in one of these tents. Either way, the editing will be done back at the studio. I assume this won’t be airing tonight?”
“It could if we get done quickly enough,” Anthony said. “We can film in one of these tents. I have a couple of the staff to film too. PR stuff. You can’t edit here?”
“We could,” Blake said. “It would just be a lot more difficult for a story of this length. We have much better equipment at the studio. All we have here is a laptop. Most of the time we have a van full of equipment when we do off-site work and that equipment isn’t the most fun to work with.”
Anthony looked towards the ground and nodded his head. “Fair enough. I’ll be heading back with you to the WWNL offices anyways. I’ll sit in on the editing to make sure everything is in the CMA guidelines. Once we are done with that, I’ll need to see Kenneth.”
Anthony turned around and motioned for the two of them to follow him into the tent. Marcus and Blake both looked at each other with questioning looks on their faces. Blake shrugged his shoulders and then headed for the tent and Marcus followed. As he ducked through the door flaps, he was taken aback by what he saw inside. Two large box trailers from semi-trucks were parked inside. Sets of stairs had been placed at the back opening. The inside of the trailers were lined with computers and other equipment. Large bunches of cables packed with ethernet and power cables were run out of the back of the trailers and then back towards the opposite side of the tent. Marcus assumed they went to generators and probably satellite equipment for communications. Sitting at the workstations that lined the inside of the trailers were military personnel. At least Marcus assumed they were military. They weren’t wearing the black SWAT-like uniform that he saw on the man earlier in the helicopter. They had regular camouflage fatigues. As Marcus focused a little more on the people in the trailer, he could see the blue and white CMA patches on their arms. All of them had sidearms on their waist.
“Marcus, come with me for a moment,” Anthony said and gestured over to the side of the trailer. “
They walked over beside the trailer. Marcus was surprised to see that there was no one else there. He wasn’t sure why, but he had expected others to be there. He was beginning to feel nervous and like his jokes to Kenneth about being held prisoner at a camp were about to come true. Anthony turned around and clasped his hands together.
“Marcus, we need to get some things straight and make sure we are on the same page,” Anthony said as he started to pace a few steps back and forth. “You’ve been very vocal on the show about your opinions. WWNL has given you quite a bit of leeway.”
“Not to brag,” Marcus began, “but I’m a bit of a household name when it comes to news. There’s some freedom that comes with the popularity of the show. Some of that popularity comes from people that want to hear my opinion.”
“Right,” Anthony answered. “However, you now work for the Central Management Authority.” He emphasized the name as if it were the most important title known to man. “We aren’t exactly going to be running things the same way WWNL did. Like I told you earlier, we are going to want things to go through our filter before it’s broadcast across the nation. Times are different now. The country is in a state of emergency. There will be a process that needs to take place to get the country on track. We don’t need a population of opposing views hindering that process. Do you understand?” Anthony didn’t leave any time to answer before asking another question. “The CMA’s process of doing business isn’t going to be a problem for you, is it? Don’t get us wrong, we want you to be involved. You are a voice and face people trust. But, a voice that causes problems for us will need to be replaced.”
Marcus’s mind was racing through the whole conversation and now he needed to answer. He had figured something like this would come up. It was obvious that he had some level of distrust of Anthony. It was obvious what his opinion had been because he had been spouting it on the show for years. He was surprised they even wanted to attempt using him over someone else who didn’t have a publicly established position with an opposing stance. He thought of Thomas and what he had said. We think you can be a key element to fighting this. Whatever Thomas had meant in saying that, he was pretty sure he shouldn’t stand his ground to Anthony and the CMA at this first opportunity and blow whatever the plan was. He had to fight his own strong, instinctual desire to open his mouth and blurt out his opinion.
“Oh, I’m on board with you. The opinion portion of my news program is just all part of the show.” Marcus felt a little nervous. He hoped it didn’t show. “We’ve got a country to get on track and I think we should all work together to get it done.”
Marcus must have pulled off the lie. It was revealed when Anthony’s face transformed from the permanent evil grin into what looked like a genuine smile. Marcus smiled along with him and nodded his head.
“That’s great to hear, Marcus. You are going to make my job a lot easier. Things will be much smoother this way.”
Marcus continued to smile as Anthony guided him back to where Blake was still waiting. Blake raised an eyebrow at Marcus and lifted a palm upwards in a questioning gesture. Marcus waved him off as if there was nothing to talk about.
“We have a couple people for you to interview,” Anthony said as he handed Marcus a piece of paper. “These are the questions we’d like you to cover. They are grouped together for each person.”
Marcus could see three groups of several questions each. “Are these people familiar with these questions. It’s always nice for the interviewee to not be surprised. People are usually more well spoken and professional when it’s done that way.”
“Oh, of course. These people have all been specially chosen for this and they know all the items to be covered,” Anthony answered.
*****
Blake and Marcus spent the next forty-five minutes interviewing the three CMA employees. Marcus thought they all did really well on camera. It wasn’t surprising to him, though. He thought they were all well-versed at their propaganda. They recorded Marcus’s portion of the segment as well. Anthony had provided a script for that. Marcus was disgusted by it but did his best to hide the emotion. It felt too scripted and fake. He wondered if his usual viewers would catch on.
They repacked their gear into the helicopter and climbed back in. Ten minutes later they were climbing steadily out of the camp southward. The next stop was near Philadelphia at the regional supply depot for all the area camps. Marcus leaned back in his seat in thought for the whole flight. He was torn inside. On one hand, he felt good about gathering information for Thomas. On the other hand, he felt like having to go along with what Anthony and the CMA wanted was turning him into a coward. He was brought out of his thoughts as the helicopter began its descent.
Marcus was surprised by the size of the warehouse. It seemed to go on for
acres. He wasn’t sure why anything surprised him anymore. The CMA’s operation seemed so massive and complex that it had to have been planned for years in advance. There was no way all this had begun this same week. He again wondered where all the funding came from. Had the government been hiding all this money for years and years? He made mental notes of all he was learning. He had to get to Thomas’s as soon as possible to relay all this information.
Chapter Fifteen
Thomas adjusted in his chair. He and Marcus sat across from each other in Thomas’s dining room. The little portion of the ranch that Marcus had seen so far made him realize it was more of a military stronghold than a working ranch. Scattered all over the walls were typical novelty western decorations. Cowboy hats and boots were hung on the walls. Picture frames were lined with tattered rope. All the furniture was made with natural wood, unstained like any modern style would be.
Marcus had been able to get a personal day upon returning from the long day filled with CMA public relations. Kenneth had quickly signed off on it, however, Marcus thought he looked too stressed and preoccupied to even realize what he was doing. Marcus had heard that Kenneth spent that entire day making arrangements to move the studio to one of the tent towns. It made him wonder if they’d be put up at one of the refugee camps or if they had a whole separate plan for them. He dreaded the move. He had hoped they would be taking over a hotel to live out of while working out of a small town studio. He enjoyed city life. He had every convenience he wanted within walking distance. Perhaps this wealthier older version of himself was becoming more high maintenance, but he didn’t mind if that was the case.
“And you are fairly certain they were military?” Thomas asked.
Marcus had spent around fifteen minutes filling in Thomas on everything he could think of since they last met. The WWNL ID badges, WWNL’s pending move, the camps, the depot, Anthony, and especially his conversation with Anthony.
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