Storm Surge

by Melissa Good

  "They're sure, John?" Alastair said.

  "Yes, boss," a somber voice came back. "I got a call from St. Vincent's. They thought they were going to get swamped, but they didn't. Only a few--ah. Anyway, one of the doctors there knew him."

  "Damn it."

  "Most of the people here are in the big room. They're pretty upset. I came in the conference room to talk to you," John Brenner added. "I think we're all still in shock."

  Alastair sighed. "Has anyone called his family?"

  "No sir."

  Dar watched her boss's face tense into a grimace, and she felt a wallop of sympathy for him. She'd known Bob in a casual way, met him once or twice, and argued with him extensively, but Alastair had been a personal friend.

  "All right. I will," Alastair said. "Damn, I'm sorry to hear it. John, is there anything I can do for the folks there? I know they must be taking it hard."

  John Brenner sighed. "We all hoped everyone made it," he said. "After people started showing up today, we all thought, hey, we'll get through this and it'll just be getting things moving again."

  "Yeah, I know," Alastair murmured. "We all hoped that."

  "He stopped to help some people. It must have taken too long, I guess."

  Alastair glanced across the desk, watching Dar's somber eyes watch him. "Sometimes I'd rather our people be a little less heroic," he said. "But he did what he had to. "

  "Yes, sir. He did."

  "All right. Whatever the folks there need-people, alcohol, whatever-make sure they get it John," Alastair said. "I'll get hold of Mari here and see if we can get a counselor down there."

  John hesitated. "I think we'd appreciate it," he said. "It would be good to have someone to talk to," he admitted. "I'll call you later, boss, if we hear anything else. I'm going to go back inside with the rest of them."

  "Okay John. Take care." Alastair exhaled, reaching forward to release the speakerphone. He then settled back in Kerry's chair and gazed across at Dar. "Goddamn it."

  "Sorry," Dar murmured. "I know he was a friend, Alastair."

  "He was," her boss said, in a sad tone. "His family are old friends of mine for a couple generations back, matter of fact. My Granddad and his Great Granddad were business partners." He shook his head. "What a damn shame."

  "Yeah," Dar nodded quietly. "They were all down there Alastair. The odds weren't great in our favor to begin with."

  Alastair gazed past her. "How many times in bad odds did you bring us out without a scratch? Maybe I got used to thinking we were just lucky that way."

  Dar didn't know what to answer to that, so she just sat there quietly, wincing at the upset in her stomach.

  "Damn it," Alastair whispered. "Damn it, damn it, damn it."

  Dar jumped a bit, as her cell phone rang. She unclipped it and checked the caller ID, then opened it. "Gerry," she warned Alastair, before she answered. "Dar Roberts."

  "Hello, Dar. Gerry Easton here," the General said. "We've got you all set up. They want to grab you in a helo. You have space for that there?"

  Dar's brows creased. "Ah--a helicopter?" she asked. "Gerry, we can drive to the damn airport. I'd have to clear half the parking lot to get one in here unless it was the size of one of those traffic copters."

  "Well, hang on a minute." Gerry put her on hold.

  Dar looked across at Alastair and shook her head. "Helicopter. Jesus."

  Alastair pressed his fingertips against his lips. "Y'know Dar," he said. "Given the news, I think I'd better renege on my offer to go with you."

  Dar's eyes opened wide. "What?"

  "I think I'd better get Bea to book me to New York tomorrow morning," Alastair said. "Those people need support. Bob's family needs support. The government can wait."

  "Hello, Dar?" Gerry came back on. "They'd rather pick you up. Got their pants on fire, now they're scuttling I guess. Man said he can put the chopper down near by you. Fifteen minutes," he said. "Hate to push the point, Dar, but we've got several hells in hand baskets around here and everyone's in a rush."

  Dar studied her boss. "I'll be ready," she said. "See you soon, Gerry."

  "Well done. Good job," the General said. "Talk to you later."

  He hung up. Dar closed the phone and held it in her hands, her expression thoughtful. Then she opened the phone again and dialed. "Dad? Hey. Last minute crap. They want to helo me out of here in fifteen. Can you--ah, you are. Okay, see you in a few."

  She closed the phone again with a wry grimace. Then she cocked her head and looked over at the man behind her lover's desk. "So."

  "Think I'm throwing you to the wolves again?" Alastair asked.

  "No," she answered. "But does this give you a better perspective on why I went to be with Kerry when you needed me in Houston that time?" she asked. "When she was in Michigan?"

  Alastair tilted his head, and frowned. "Was I mad about that?" he queried. "I wasn't, was I?" He watched Dar's brows lift. "I was, now that I think about it. That General of yours was threatening God only knows what, wasn't he?"

  Dar nodded.

  "Scared the pants off me." Her boss mused. "Then Bea came in and told me what a jackass I was to even think about yelling at you," he admitted. "With Kerry's father passing on. I just let that get lost in all the craziness. Shouldn't have pushed you."

  "We did all right out of it." Dar half shrugged. "But there wasn't any way I was leaving. So I understand. Family comes first. Friends come first. Business is just business."

  "It is," her boss agreed, mildly. "But I am sorry about that, Dar."

  "Ah." Dar cast her mind back to that dark time, when Kerry's father had passed away and everything seemed to be turned against them. She never regretted getting on the plane to Michigan. "I didn't care."

  "About me yelling?"

  "Yeah. I felt bad about selling a piece of my soul to Gerry but it didn't matter. Kerry needed me there," Dar remarked. "Everyone else could have gotten screwed three ways in a leaky raft, as my father says, for all I cared."

  Alastair nodded. "People matter. Glad you understand, Dar. I don't want to pitch you into the fire, but I know you can handle it."

  "I can," Dar agreed. "It's my infrastructure anyway. I grew out of needing a buffer a long time ago." She eyed her boss. "You've been stepping in front of trucks for me for a week. I could get insulted. Let me go bust my own balls for a while."

  Her boss managed a half grin. "I am throwing you to the wolves, Dar," he said. "I'm sorry. But I can't go dick around with a bunch of politicians when I know those people in New York are hurting. I gotta go."

  "I know." Dar got up. "I'm going to grab my stuff and go say hi to my Dad. He's on the way up to my office," she said. "Go take care of those people, Alastair. They need it. We'll be fine." She circled the desk and put a hand on Alastair's shoulder. "Leave the politicians to me."

  Alastair's pale eyes met hers. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

  Dar chuckled. "Think of how they'll feel." She gave her boss's shoulder a squeeze. "Maria will take care of a hotel for you for tonight and getting you to the airport. Just let her know what the details are."

  Alastair reached up and clasped her hand with his own. "Thanks. I will," he said. "Be careful, willya? Having you get dinged again because of this place ain't worth it, lady."

  "You too." Dar smiled her voice warm with affection. "Give the people in Manhattan my regards. I have a feeling I'll be seeing them soon myself." She straightened up and headed for the door, slipping through it and closing it behind her.

  Alastair exhaled, letting his elbows rest on the chair arms. Then he reached out and punched Bea's extension again, waiting for her to answer. "It's me."

  "I heard, Alastair. I'm so sorry," Bea said. "What a shame. Do you know if there are any arrangements yet? What can I do for the family--for you?"

  Alastair closed his eyes, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a long moment before he answered. "Don't know yet," he answered, briefly. "Haven't talked to the family." He f
ell silent, biting the inside of his lip.

  Bea was quiet for a moment. "Tough day, boss," she said, eventually.

  "Yeah," he agreed. "Just got a whole lot tougher."

  "Dar's admin just messaged me with your hotel details," Bea said. "She's such a sweetheart. I'll start working on getting you a flight up tomorrow morning. You want the first one out, I guess?"

  "Yeah." Alastair cleared his throat. "Sounds fine. Early as you can."

  "You want to stay somewhere near the office there? I can try getting something close. Hard to say what's available though."

  "Get me whatever you can," her boss answered quietly. "Doesn't matter."

  The inner door opened, and he looked up quickly, to find Dar coming into the room again with a set of keys in her hand. "Ah." He cleared his throat again. "Thought you were out of here."

  "Almost." Dar set the keys down. "I know you can get a ride from anyone here, or a cab, but sometimes it's good to have your own transport. Just leave it at the hotel, and I'll get it picked up." She knelt down and put her hand on his knee. "Pick a causeway and find a beach. That's where I go to chill out."

  His eyes met hers, and he managed a faint smile. "Thanks, Paladar. I'll try not to crash into any palm trees."

  Dar patted his leg then stood up. "Later." She disappeared again, leaving silence and the faint scent of leather in her wake.

  Alastair jingled the keys lightly in his fingers. "Y'know, Bea, if I was thirty years younger, Kerry would have a fight on her hands," he chuckled wryly. "No offense to my wife."

  "You know, Alastair, you're right," Bea said, after a pause and a long sigh. "She is really neat. How did we miss seeing this side of her all these years?"

  "Don't know, and really don't care. I'm just glad we have her because she's damn good people." Alastair regarded the pictures facing him. "I'm going to get out of here, Bea. Arrange what you can, just drop me the details."

  "Will do, boss. Have a margarita for me."

  Alastair stood up. "You can bet on it," he said. "Who knows? Maybe I'll go get myself a tattoo. It's been that kind of week."

  "Alastair."

  "Yeah, I know. My wife would kill me." Alastair sighed. "Talk to you later, Bea." He hung up the phone and circled the desk, heading for the door. Just short of it, he stopped and regarded the boxing dummy.

  Its face, what there was of it, was scuffed. He picked up one of the gloves and looked at it, the laces loosened from the last hand it fit over. He put it over his fingers and slid it on, finding the inside of it snug, but well worn.

  Did Kerry really spend that much time beating the daylights out of something? Was the stress here as bad as all that?

  Experimentally, he faced off against the dummy and socked it one in the puss, making the spring loaded torso rock back and forth energetically. Its stolid face looked back at him as it wobbled back and forth.

  He hit it again. "Huh." He was faintly surprised at how satisfying it felt. Then, after a moment's thought, he wasn't surprised. Quietly, he removed the glove and hung it back next to its mate, giving the dummy a pat on the head.

  The corridor was empty when he left the office, and he took advantage of that to stroll to the elevator, slowing when he spotted Maria approaching him. "Hello, Maria."

  "Senor McLean," Maria responded politely. "Dar has asked me to make sure your bag is put in her car, yes? I sent Mayte down to take care of that for you," she said. "I think the army has come for her and her papa out in the parking lot. I was going to go see that."

  "I'll join you." Alastair punched the elevator button. "Thanks for grabbing my things. Does Dar always think of everything?"

  Maria merely looked at him, both her dark eyebrows lifting.

  "Silly question. I know she does." Alastair held the elevator door and followed Maria inside. "She's thought of everything ever since I've known her."

  The door closed and they rode down in companionable silence.

  Chapter Nineteen

  KERRY HELD THE door for her mother as they entered the small, typically decorated Japanese restaurant. It was quiet inside, too late for the happy hour crowd, and she was glad enough to settle in a comfortable banquette to one side of the sushi bar.

  It felt very good to simply sit, even with her mother across from her. "Ugh." She leaned back and let her arms rest on her thighs. "What a bunch of posers."

  Cynthia looked up from examining the menu, peering at Kerry across a pair of half glasses. "Are you speaking of my colleagues?"

  "Yes." Kerry lifted her hand a rubbed the back of her neck, too tired to worry about being rude.

  "Well, I have to agree," her mother said. "I can't believe they disregarded all of the things we discussed earlier in favor of a senseless attack on your company."

  A waiter came by, bowing to them and waiting in silence.

  "Can I get a Kirin, please?" Kerry asked. "Mother, would you like a drink?"

  Cynthia pondered a moment. "I would." She decided. "Could I perhaps get a glass of white wine?"

  "Yes of course," the waiter said. "You want something to start?"

  Kerry glanced at the menu. "Trust me to order?" she asked.

  Cynthia hesitated then nodded. "Of course," she said.

  The waiter turned to Kerry, his eyebrows cocking.

  "Ah--two orders of the edamame, please, two of the watercress salads--Mother, I think you'd like the tuna tataki roll, and I'd like the sushi and tempura plate, please." Kerry glanced across the table. "All right with you?"

  Her mother looked a touch nonplussed. "Well, certainly. That sounds lovely." She handed her menu back and settled back in her seat. "I can't say I've tried sushi. Your father wasn't partial to oriental food."

  Kerry remembered that. "Strictly old fashioned American food. I recall," she said. "I didn't acquire a taste for it until I moved down to Florida. It's too hot to eat that heavy all the time." She played with her fork. "Japanese food is usually cool or room temperature, looks great on the plate, and it's good for you on top of it."

  "Hm," Cynthia murmured. She glanced up as the waiter returned, bearing a tray with Kerry's beer, her wine, and two plates of green pods. He put the pods and the drinks down, gave them another little bow, and retreated.

  Kerry picked up her glass and took a sip of her beer. It was cold and light, and it went down easy. She leaned back against the padded surface and relaxed, glad the day was almost over.

  Almost. She had this dinner to get through, drop her mother off back at her office, then make the drive back to her hotel and wait for the crowning end to her day that, with any luck, would involve her, Dar, and being naked.

  Or her, Dar, and footy pajamas. Or her, Dar, and remaining fully clothed. She really didn't care as long as the her and the Dar part were in there. She missed her partner something fierce, and now the constant strain and aggravation were starting to wear on her.

  "Are these like peas?" her mother asked, studying the edamame.

  "Soy beans." Kerry put her beer down and picked one up, squeezing it and popping the resulting bean into her mouth. "With a little salt."

  "Oh." Cynthia picked one up and examined it, then put pressure on the end and started a bit as the pod split and the bean almost went across the table. "My goodness." She captured it and put it cautiously to her lips, chewing it as though it might explode.

  Kerry finished her pod and went on to the next one. "Dar and I play games with these," she related. "I can squeeze one into her mouth from across the table."

  Her mother stared at her. "Kerrison," she said, after a moment. "You don't really."

  Kerry smiled wryly. "Yeah, I do," she said. "It's our neighborhood joint near the office. They all know us there. They don't care if we throw food at each other." She picked up another pod. "We do lunch there a lot. It gets so hectic and stressful at the office, it's nice to just sit and blow off steam sometimes."

  "That seems very strange," her mother said then sighed. "But really, what isn't strange these days. I don'
t understand what the world is coming to."

  True. Kerry felt like the world had stopped and started spinning the opposite direction. So much had changed in so few days, and looking forward she saw only more change ahead of them. Not good change, either.

  It was an uncharacteristically pessimistic feeling. She didn't much like it.

  Cynthia ate another bean slowly. She picked up her glass and sipped her wine, watching Kerry over the rim. "It's been a terrible day, hasn't it?"

  "Lousy," her daughter agreed. "Lousy couple of days. The only bright spot for me today was Dar telling me she's heading up here." She paused. "Well, that and you telling the other senators off."

  Cynthia blinked. "Well, I don't think--" She stopped. "On the other hand, perhaps I did. They made me very upset."

  "Me too."

  "I am sorry about that," Cynthia said, in a sincere tone. "I really did not expect them to do what they did. I knew they had questions, but I thought they were more interested in finding a way to better communicate. Not--"

  "Not find someone to blame?" Kerry half shrugged. "Well, it's over. I hope they learned something from it, but if they didn't, they didn't. don't have time to worry about it." She gave the waiter a smile, as he returned with their salads. "Thanks."

  Cynthia picked up her fork and investigated the watercress. "Oh, this is lovely," she said, after tasting a bite. "Quite delightful."

  Kerry maneuvered her chopsticks expertly and spent a quiet moment ingesting the greens. They were crisp and fresh, the dressing a touch spicy, and with more than a hint of citrus. "That is good," she said, after wiping her lips.

  Her mother took another sip of wine. "This is really very nice, Kerry, " she said. "Is this some place you plan to bring Dar to, when she arrives?"

  Kerry slowly finished her salad, considering the question. "Maybe. She loves sushi." She allowed. "I don't think we're going to be here long though. "

  "Oh, really?"

  "Yes." Kerry wiped her lips on her napkin. "Soon as we get the backups running here, my guess is we'll both be needed in New York." She studied her glass. "There's a lot more to do there." Her brows knit a little. "So many people. So much damage. What a total waste."