Storm Surge

by Melissa Good

  Kerry glanced down at a soft beep.

  I don't think they're going to take that from the local folks. They'll be back and that's a major commercial link not just a government one.

  "She can do it," Kerry said, quietly. "Dar isn't someone who does something just because someone in authority tells her too. Believe me."

  "Understood, Herndon," Dar said.

  "I back that up completely," Alastair broke in. "I'll call our contacts in the government, and see if I can determine what's going on.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Is that your big boss?" Angie asked. "The one who's with Dar?"

  Kerry nodded. What do you think they're after? Could this be related to the terrorists, Dar? We don't want to be accused of obstructing anything.

  I don't know. Dar typed back. We could be in a bad spot here.

  Kerry studied the string of text, starting with the first message. "Shit."

  "What?" Mike sat up.

  Kerry exhaled, and typed. I should go there. All we have is an infrastructure manager. Not fair to put them on the front lines.

  Maybe flights will be allowed out tomorrow sometime.

  Kerry had to smile, no matter how wryly. Dar knew perfectly well what her options were, and what was best for the company, but Dar also made no bones over whose priorities were more important to her.

  Maybe I could go apologize and suck up to my mother and go out tonight.

  In no way am I asking or expecting you to do that. Let them wait. Let them call me. If they want it that bad, I'll make them send a damn bomber to pick our asses up here.

  "God, I love her," Kerry said. This could seriously be a matter of national security, Dar. We shouldn't screw around with this.

  "What's she saying?" Mike asked. "Did you just tell your whole company you loved Dar? That mic was on. I heard the reverb."

  Kerry blinked, and looked at the mic in her hand, and felt the blood rush to her head. "Oh, crap."

  Thanks hon. Love you too. Dar rattled back. At least, I assume you were talking about me.

  "I'm pretty sure they already know." Angie watched her sister's face. "Whoops."

  Of course I was talking about you. Kerry put the mic down to be safe. "Jesus," she muttered. "Too much crap happening at once."

  Anyway, I know it's serious, Dar responded. It might be a matter of national security but you know what? Bottom line is, we're the experts, and that's our facility. We handle that data. If they need something from it, we and I mean Alastair too, we have no problem doing whatever we have to in order to help, but I'm not giving the people who let this happen carte blanche access into my network.

  "Wow," Kerry murmured, as she read. "I'm not sure we're going to get away with that."

  "What?" Angie got up and went around the desk. "What's going on?"

  "Dar's being Dar," Kerry said, picking up the mic again. "Okay, Herndon--if you get another request, let us know as soon as it happens, and you can tell them our senior management is contacting the government to find out what their requirements are so we can do our best to fulfill them."

  "That sounds cheesy," Mike said.

  "Are you really going to go suck up to Mom?" Angie whispered. "Wow!"

  Kerry sighed. "We learned political compromise early, didn't we?" She tasted the smarminess on her tongue like a coating of stale fry oil. "Oh, lord I don't want to do that, but the bottom line is someone should be there and I'm closer than Dar is. "

  "Isn't there someone else they can send? Surely you two can't be the only responsible people in that whole ginormous company," Angie pointed out. "For Pete's sake, Kerry."

  "There are lots of people." Kerry typed back. Can you see if Hamilton Baird can get someone over there from his department? "The problem is, this is all operations and that's our division. Mine and Dar's. We don't have anyone else in the company that does that at an executive level."

  "She and Dar are the only ones with balls, she means," Mike said from his perch on the couch. "Gorgeous women with bad attitudes scare the crap out of guys. Everyone knows that."

  Angie turned around and stared at him. "How in the hell would you know?" she asked. "Your girlfriends are all empty headed bimbos."

  "That's how I know."

  Alastair's on the line with him now. Dar responded. This is getting crazy.

  Crazier. Kerry responded. Okay, I'm going to bite the bullet and go find my mother. Cover for me?

  You sure?

  "I'm sure I'm going to be sick to my stomach," Kerry muttered. "Where's that bucket of Advil?"

  KERRY DECIDED A glass of tea was in order to get her handful of pain killers down before she went in search of her mother. She crossed the dining room and pushed open the door to the kitchen, surprising the woman standing just inside. "Hey Mary."

  "Ms Kerry," the cook greeted her. "Terrible things are going on."

  "They are," Kerry agreed, going over to the cabinet and taking down a glass. "It's been a really tough day."

  "What can I get you?" Mary asked. "I have to say it's going to be nice having your sister back in the house with the little ones. It's been too quiet around here."

  "Some tea, if you don't mind." Kerry offered up the glass without protest. Mary had worked for her parents at least as long as she'd been alive, and this kitchen was her territory, no doubt about it. "How have you been, Mary?"

  "Well thanks." The cook returned with the glass full and handed it to her. "And yourself? How's your sweetheart Dar?"

  My sweetheart. Kerry had to smile at that. She swallowed her pills and washed them down with a mouthful of tea. "Dar's fine, thanks. She's in England right now. I think we'd both be better if we were home in Miami though."

  "Just a good thing you were out of harm's way," Mary said. "And I was thanking the Lord that your mother was here too, and not in the way of those crazy people."

  Kerry sipped her tea, leaning back against the counter. "I'm glad too," she said. "I tried to talk her out of going to Washington tonight."

  "Crazy people," Mary repeated. "No sense to it at all. I wish she was staying here and not going out to be with the rest of those government people. It was fine for your papa, he was a strong man."

  "He would have been very upset," Kerry said, quietly. "This would have made him very angry."

  "Oh yes, ma'am. That's very true." Mary nodded. "Now, I know you didn't get on with him, Ms. Kerry, but he was a good man to have around when things were terrible like this."

  And that, Kerry had to acknowledge, was true. "As long as he was mad at something other than you, yes," she said. "And he would have been furious at the people who did this. He'd have been trying to find out how it happened."

  Mary nodded. "Would you like more tea, Ms. Kerry? I have to say I do like that haircut you have. It looks very nice on you."

  "Sure." Kerry handed back her glass. "And thanks. I like it too." She ran her fingers through her hair, pausing to rub the back of her neck a little as she willed the Advil to start working. "I didn't think I'd like it at first, but it ended up being nicer than I thought."

  Mary poured the glass full again. "Well, don't get upset at me for saying this , Ms. Kerry, but short like that, you do remind me just a bit of your papa."

  Well. Kerry took the glass back. "How could I be upset at you, Mary? He was my father. No matter how much we disagreed, that's not going to change."

  Mary smiled at her. "Glad to hear you say that," she said, then fell silent as the door to the hall opened.

  "Mary, I will need for you to--" Cynthia Stuart entered, then stopped as she saw who was visiting with her cook. "Ah. Kerrison."

  Ah. Yikes. Kerry exhaled silently. "Mother." She returned the greeting in a mild tone.

  Her mother's expression brightened just a trifle at that. "Mary, could you please see what we can arrange for a luncheon in perhaps an hour? I know it's late for it, but everything's so out of sorts today."

  "Of course, ma'am." Mary gave Kerry a knowingly sympathetic look. "Nice talking to
you, Ms. Kerry. Let me know if you need anything else." She ducked out the door into the pantry.

  Kerry quickly considered her options. "Want some tea?" she finally asked. "I just had to take a handful of aspirin." She eased over a few feet and sat down at one of the chairs at the worktable.

  Her mother relaxed a trifle. "Yes. It's been that kind of day hasn't it?" She went to the refrigerator and opened the door removing a small bottle and taking it over to the table in the corner along with a glass. "I've had to take some myself." She took a seat. "This was the kind of thing your father would say was a full bottle of whiskey day I believe."

  "Yes," Kerry agreed. "I could use a beer."

  Cynthia glanced furtively at her. "That does sound so odd," she said. "I don't think either of us was ever partial to beer."

  "Probably why I am," her daughter admitted. "All part of that complete rebellion thing." She looked up and found her mother looking back at her in wary surprise. "I was rude before. I'm sorry," she said.

  Cynthia looked momentarily overwhelmed, as though Kerry had gone in a direction she hadn't anticipated.

  Which she had, Kerry realized. Straightforward apology was something she'd learned from Dar, not something she'd picked up growing up where admitting fault was never easy. "I've got a lot on my shoulders. I wasn't expecting complications from the government."

  Her mother nodded at once. "It is I who should have apologized, Kerr...y." She bit off the last part of her daughter's name with visible difficulty. "It completely did not occur to me that I was speaking so far out of turn," she went gamely on. "I didn't mean to--cause you difficulty. I just saw an opportunity to help and thought your involvement would be a good thing. I should, in fact, have asked you before proceeding."

  Kerry pondered her glass. "I probably would have reacted the same way, if you had asked," she replied honestly. "Being here is very uncomfortable for me. I don't trust you." She looked up again, to see her mother's eyes wide as saucers. "And given what happened, you probably shouldn't trust me either."

  Way too much truth in one sentence, she realized. Her mother had no idea how to react, and merely sat there blinking at her. It was hard, and it was making her headache worse. "I'm not trying to be a jerk," Kerry said. "I just can't help how I feel."

  "Well," Cynthia finally said. "I have no idea what to say to that."

  "I know," her daughter said. "It's probably going to be easier for both of us if you try not to think of me as the little kid who used to run through this kitchen, and more like an adult you don't know that well."

  Her mother set her glass down. "Do you have any idea whatsoever how impossible that is? I am your Mother."

  "I know," Kerry said again. "And no, I have no idea at all how impossible that is. I just don't want to make this so hard on both of us."

  Cynthia sat back and regarded her. "How can you still be so angry?" she asked, in a quiet voice. "I don't understand it."

  Reasonable question, Kerry felt. From her mother's point of view at any rate. "I don't know," she said. "I guess maybe along with the eyes and the high blood pressure I inherited father's long grudges." Her eyes lifted again and met Cynthia's, watching several emotions cross her mother's face; first shock, then a touch of anger, and what might have been a flicker of grudging understanding.

  Might have been.

  "Well," her mother said. "Perhaps in time we can adjust," she concluded. "But at this time, I fear we cannot, since I do have an 8:00 p.m. flight, and I am sure you will be on your way home before I get back." She poured the rest of her bottle of juice into her glass and placed the bottle down with a slightly more than necessary force.

  Kerry felt her headache start to ebb a little. "Actually," she said, "I do have to go to Washington tonight." She watched her mother's eyes start to blink again, this time in confusion.

  "You--changed your mind?" Cynthia said, doubtfully. "I'm not sure--"

  "No." Kerry decided honesty was the best route. "The government wants to take over some of our facilities in the area. I have to find out why, and give them a face to yell at with some authority," she said. "If you don't want me to ride with you, I understand. I'll drive."

  Her mother's lips started twitching. "Well," she spluttered. "K--surely you aren't--you can't drive by yourself there. It's dangerous!"

  Kerry propped her head up on one hand, a faint smile appearing on her face. "Wasn't I saying that to you earlier?"

  Cynthia's mouth opened, and then closed. Then opened again, and then closed. Then she sat back and took a sip of her juice. "This is all very confusing," she said. "You said the government was trying to take over your things? Why would they do that?"

  "I don't know, Mother. Why would they?" Kerry asked. "You are the government, remember? So maybe if you're going to talk to your committee--if you still want me to talk to them, we can ask them that first?"

  Her mother frowned. "Are you going to be rude to them, and embarrass me?" she asked, directly.

  "Possibly," her daughter answered just as honestly. "But that could have happened anyway." She sat back and regarded her mother. "Didn't you realize that when you told them about me in the first place?"

  Cynthia met her eyes, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I should have," she conceded. "I think you're right, you know. I don't think you're the child I raised at all."

  It was almost a relief. Kerry merely nodded.

  "In fact, I'm not really sure who you are at all," her mother said. "I don't know that I want to find out."

  "Fair enough," Kerry said. "We all make choices we have to live with. I know. I've had to make a few," she said. "Losing my family was one of the consequences of that."

  Cynthia eyed her in somber silence for a minute. "Well." She got up and put her glass in the sink. "We do all have to make choices." She went to the door. "I will see about adding you to the flight."

  She left, and Kerry tipped her head back and regarded the ceiling, unsure if the situation had just gotten marginally better or a lot worse.

  Time would have to tell.

  DAR CURLED HER arm around her bundled sweater, putting her head down and allowing her body to relax in the semi-darkened room. The rest of their team and most of the client's were in the media room next door, watching three or four different television screens and talking.

  Dar had no desire to either join them or talk. She closed her eyes, just letting the chatter in the background of the computer go past her, trying to tune out enough to get a few minutes of rest before it was time for Kerry to go to the airport with her mother.

  Kerry's only comment to Dar's question about how that worked out was 'Ugh.' It made her unhappy because she sensed her partner was unhappy and there wasn't a lot she could do about it. What was that Alastair had said earlier? She'd turned into a good family person?

  Ugh.

  Alastair had gone to the rooms Sir Melthon had prepared for them. He was waiting for a call back from one of their contract administrators from the government. Dar, frankly, didn't hold out much hope in that regard because she figured everyone was either glued to CNN or in the middle of the confusion, and didn't have much time to call back some CEO of some company.

  Kerry's voice filtered softly into her awareness, and Dar opened her eyes to peer at the nearby screen. Then, after a moment's consideration she opened a browser and clicked over to their corporate travel website.

  Kerry hadn't said if she was staying at the family townhouse she knew they had in Washington. She might, Dar reasoned, but she also might rather escape to one of the high end business hotels they used when they traveled.

  She reached over and typed in the location, then reviewed the results as the website searched and disgorged its results. "Hm." Dar grunted. Hotels were packed, not unreasonable considering air travel was at a standstill. Everyone stuck at the airport had to stay somewhere.

  There was, however, an obscenely expensive suite available and Dar clicked on it without hesitation. She pulled down the available profiles
on the website and selected Kerry's, and watched as it filled in her information and obediently reserved the space.

  Dar selected and copied the details, and then she pasted them into the open instant message box where Kerry's last "Ugh" was still blinking mournfully. She clicked send, and then settled her head back down on her sweater.

  Kerry's voice, in the middle of acknowledging Mark's status update, stopped in mid word.

  Dar smiled, watching as the message came back with a tiny graphic, a small beating red heart that was a complete, if charming, waste of bandwidth.

  "As I was saying," Kerry's voice now had an audible grin in it. "I will be out of contact for a few hours in transit to Herndon this evening. Dar will be covering for me."

  "Miami exec, this is Herndon. We're looking forward to seeing you," a voice answered. "Do you need a pickup?"

  One blue eye opened and its dark brow lifted as Dar listened for her partner's answer.

  "Ah." Kerry was muffling a laugh, she could tell. "I'm going to rent a car at the airport, thanks. I'll let you know if that doesn't work out. I'm sure it's crazy around there."

  Dar reached over, and one handed, typed out a series of instructions into a console session, reviewing them before she compiled the results and sent the new little routine to run. A moment later, she heard a soft chuckle come through the mic.

  "Hey Miami exec, this is Miami ops," Mark broke in. "Wouldn't that be god of the clock in England?"

  "Yes," Kerry responded. "Dar's supposed to be getting some rest now so she can take over, but I just found out she's actually dealing with some petty details behind the scenes."

  "Petty?" Dar murmured. "Wench."

  "How about I burn minutes and watch stuff from the van?" Mark suggested. "It's not like we've got a lot else to do, you know?"

  Dar frowned, considering the question. She trusted Mark implicitly. He'd been working for the company nearly as long as she had, and his knowledge and loyalty were unquestioned.

  Trust? Not trust? Dar reached over and picked up her mic, bringing it over to her head.