Storm Surge

by Melissa Good

  Kerry could sense an explosion waiting to happen. She put her hand out, and touched Franklin's arm. "What actually are you looking for?" she asked. "Accounting records? You know it's probably going to be easier if you apply directly to the offices that generate them."

  "That takes too long," Franklin said. "We don't have time for all the red tape."

  Hamilton looked at him. "Are you saying it's just easier to browbeat a contractor?"

  "I can get the president to write an executive order to have the army take over your office," Franklin said. "I don't really care what you say at this meeting, we'll get in there, and we'll get what we want. If you want to end up in jail today, that's okay with me. I don't like you. You people are just trash, and you're in my way. "

  Hamilton looked over at Dar. "Darlin', I think this is your gig."

  "I think you're right," Dar agreed. She turned back to Franklin. "Okay, jackass," she said. "I don't give a shit whose weenie you're swinging off of. Jesus Christ couldn't get into my systems unless I wanted him to, so you go ahead, and go get whatever orders your heart desires because trust me buddy, they mean jack nothing to me."

  "You really don't understand," Franklin said. "I'm going to have you arrested."

  "For what?" Dar asked.

  "I don't need anything specific. Not anymore," the NSA man said. "You don't get it. The rules all changed. We don't care if what we're doing is illegal, we'll just change the laws." He stared at Dar. "We don't care. I will wreck you, and wreck your family, and wreck your company if you don't do what I want, because I can. I can do anything. So you better decide you're going to take us back to that office, open up everything, and just get the hell out of my way or--"

  "Or," Dar said, a short explosion of sound. "Arrest me, Comrade. Take me to the gulag."

  Both Kerry and Hamilton remained absolutely silent.

  "That's not funny."

  "Neither is what you just said," Dar shot back. "That I have no rights? That as an American citizen I can be tossed in jail for no reason, with no charges, with no recourse because I won't break the law for you? That's your new world? Someone point me out the nearest foreign embassy. I've got a passport to burn."

  Franklin was breathing hard. "We're at war," he said.

  "My father is a retired Navy Seal," Dar said. "What the hell do you know about war he didn't teach me before I was out of grade school?" She leaned on her hands on the table, looking him right in the eye. "You can arrest me, you can toss me in the gulag, you can scream and rant and rave and weenie waggle right across the White House lawn. You will not get into those systems."

  Franklin stood, and they stared at each other.

  "Excuse me." Kerry held up her hand. "Can I ask a question here?" She didn't wait for permission, suspecting correctly it wouldn't be forthcoming. "If you're looking for terrorist financial activities, why are you looking for them in the records of the civil service health plan, or the department of state payroll instead of asking the credit card companies to help you?"

  Everyone turned around and looked at Kerry.

  "Do you really think the general accounting office is full of Taliban?" Kerry persisted. "Or NASA's website?"

  "What did you say about the credit card companies?" Franklin asked, slowly.

  "Lord, I swear." Hamilton sighed, and put his head down on one fist. "It's enough to make a man want to move to Japan."

  "If you really want to find people who are trying to do bad things, then you should look at things they buy. I don't think people can bring things like bombs into the country," Kerry said. "But they can buy things to make bombs and those places they buy them have to have records of it."

  "We understand that," Franklin said. "We know more about it than you apparently give us credit for."

  "Okay," Kerry said. "Then I'm sure you're already in touch with the major retailers and the credit card clearinghouses, right? I'm sure you've asked them to cross reference charges for whatever it is that interests you? Like phosphorous or whatever."

  "Or flight lessons," Dar chimed in. "I'm sure they've already thought of that Kerry, if they're here asking us to review the traffic to the National Park service."

  "Stay here." Franklin got up and motioned for a man to follow him, as he left the room, walking quickly.

  There was a small silence after he left. Dar bumped Kerry on the shoulder then turned to Hamilton. "Now what?"

  The lawyer was already on his cell phone. "I'm calling in some backup. This ain't even slightly funny."

  KERRY CLASPED HER hands, wishing she could continue working just to pass the time if nothing else. But Dar and Hamilton had told her to close her laptop down and get off the call, both of them keyed and nervous in front of the eyes of the watching men around them.

  Dar was pacing around in back of her. Hamilton was across the room, his head bent over his cell phone, muttering in a low Louisiana accent that obscured all meaning from whatever it was he was saying.

  Kerry sighed and looked around the room again, her irritation at the whole situation creeping slowly toward a breaking point.

  She could feel Dar's agitation, and her nape hairs prickled just as she sensed her partner turning and heading toward her seat, the rush of energy making her eyes blink a little.

  "Okay," Dar's voice lifted, catching everyone's attention. "That's long enough. We've got work to do."

  Kerry gathered herself up, getting her hiking boots under her as she prepared to stand up, guessing rightly that Dar intended on leaving.

  "I don't think that's a good idea," one of the men said.

  "I don't think you think," Dar shot right back. "So unless you're going to pull a gun and keep us here, move the hell out of the way." She tapped Kerry on the back and waited for her to rise, then started for the door

  "And if you all are going to pull that gun, you better make sure you shoot to kill and hide the bodies," Hamilton joined Dar as she got to the aisle.

  "Because you ain't ever going to get loose of the legal trouble if you don't, I guarantee it."

  "Listen Mister--"

  "Listen Mister is a Louisiana lawyer, son." Hamilton waved a hand in his direction. "I ain't fooling with you. I have half the legal staff of ILS, which is bigger than most of your government departments heading here with torts and complaints enough to half bury this building. We ain't talking any more to you. Tell your lawyers to call me."

  Kerry decided she really didn't have much to add to the conversation. She merely shouldered her briefcase and stuck close to her partner, resisting the urge to latch on to the back of Dar's belt. The whole situation was scaring her, and she felt very glad to be tucked behind Dar's tall form in relative safety.

  "Agent Franklin said for you to stay here," the man said. "I think it's a good idea for you to do that. You don't want to get him pissed off at you." He was standing in their path, both hands raised, palms outward. "We're not going to do anything ridiculous like take guns out, but this is a serious situation, and it's in your best interests just to stay put until he gets back."

  "No." Dar kept going. "It's in the best interests of our customers, which includes a lot of you, for us to get out of here and get on with doing our jobs." She squared her shoulders and looked the man right in the eye. "We're not going to do what you asked us to, no matter how long we stay."

  "Well, now, just think about this a minute--" The man took a step backwards, toward the door as the three of them bore down on him. "We're not asking."

  The door opened behind him before Dar could come up with any more bullshit responses. She looked past the man to see Franklin entering, but from the expression on his face, she wasn't sure now what was going on.

  "Sir, but--let me explain." Franklin was coming in sideways. "I have a mandate!" He tried to hold the door shut but someone was pushing it open from the other side. "Sir!"

  "Get the hell out of my way you little weasel!" a gruff, older voice answered. "Take your useless bunch of yuppies with you."

  H
amilton and Dar exchanged glances. "This is getting ticklier than an octopus with athlete's foot," Hamilton said. "It's never boring around you, is it? Now I know why Al went to New York and sent me here. The man was probably exhausted."

  Kerry edged up next to her partner for a better view. The NSA agents had stood and now they were milling a little, looking nervously at the door.

  It was shoved open, and Franklin got out of the way as a tall, grizzled haired man entered, sweeping the room with his eyes.

  "Ah." He put his hands on his hips. "Which one of you is Roberts?"

  Dar lifted her hand and let it fall.

  "You stupid bastard." The older man turned on Franklin. "We've been waiting on this damned person since yesterday, and you're dicking around with her in here? Get the hell out of my sight."

  "SIR!" Franklin bravely raised his voice. "I have a MANDATE."

  "I don't give a damn!" the man shouted right back. "You had a mandate to keep the country safe too, and you didn't do that either! Now get out!"

  "Oo." Kerry muttered under her breath.

  "You've got no right to say that!" Franklin stood up to him. "You didn't do anything either!"

  Hamilton leaned closer. "Ya'll think we should take this opportunity to skedaddle?"'

  "I dunno," Dar whispered back. "I think that's the guy who told Gerry to find me."

  "That's enough," the older man said. "You folks, you IT people. Come with me." He gestured to Dar and company. "Franklin, I'd start packing. Take your hair brained schemes somewhere else."

  Selecting the better part of valor, Dar led the way to the door, passing behind the older man and escaping out into the hallway with a sense of relief. Even if it was momentary, and she was about to dive from the pan into the fire.

  "Absolute disaster." The older man slammed the door and turned to them. "Michael Bridges, advisor to the President," he said. "Where the hell have you people been? We expected you last night."

  Dar studied him. "Long story," she said. "You want to hear it, or just get down to business?"

  Bridges studied her in return. Then he snorted a little. "Let's go." He pointed down the hallway. They walked along, moving from side to side to avoid the throngs of busy people who seemed to be going in every direction possible.

  "So you're a friend of Easton's, eh?" Bridges asked.

  "Family friend, yes," Dar agreed. "This is my vice president of operations, Kerrison Stuart, by the way, and our senior corporate legal council, Hamilton Baird."

  Bridges spared them a bare glance. "Had to bring a lawyer with you? I told Easton I only wanted you here. Bastard."

  "Mamma always called me a son of a bitch, matter of fact." Hamilton smiled at him. "But thanks for the compliment."

  "Meant Easton." The older man frowned at him. "Don't get all smartass with me."

  "Based on the conversation in that room, I don't intend on going to the bathroom here without a lawyer." Dar interjected, suspecting their legal council was about to get downright Cajun on the man. "I've had people from the government asking me to break contracts and break laws for two days."

  "Hmph." Bridges indicated a door, and shoved his way through it scattering secretaries on the other side like birds before a cat. "Move it! Get that damn conference room cleared!"

  Dar paused before she entered the room, letting her eyes flick over it and noting the smoked glass panels in the ceiling. In the center of the room was a large, oval wooden conference table, with comfortable leather chairs surrounding it.

  In the back of the room was a mahogany credenza, looking completely out of place against the lighter wood of the conference table, and the cream leather of the chairs. It had doors in it that were flung back to reveal a large screen television, and playing on the screen, unsurprisingly, was CNN.

  Dar wondered, briefly, if most of the government didn't get their information from the same place its citizens did. "All hail Ted Turner."

  "What was that?" Bridges got to the head of the table and dropped into the seat there, conspicuously larger and more comfortable looking than the rest. He was dressed in a pair of pleated slacks and had a white button down shirt on, but the sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose enough to reveal an open top neck button. "Sit. Margerie, close the damn door."

  One of the secretaries looked inside and nodded, then shut the door behind her. It blocked out most of the noise in the office, but not all of it.

  "All right." Bridges leaned on his forearms. He was probably in his sixties, and had a long, lined face with thick gray eyebrows and light hazel eyes. "I'm not sure if you people know how the government works."

  Kerry held her hand up. "I have some idea," she remarked, in a quiet tone. "But you know, Mr. Bridges, I don't think this situation has anything to do with how the government works," she went on. "Mr. Franklin told us the rule book got thrown out the window. Is that true?"

  Bridges looked at Dar, then at Hamilton, then he studied Kerry. "Where the hell do I know you from?" He asked, instead of answering the question. "You look familiar."

  "Thanksgivings at my parent's house," Kerry replied. "We didn't sit at the same table though."

  Bridges blinked then his brows knit. "Oh, son of a bitch. You're Roger's kid, aren't you?" He asked sounding surprised. "What in the hell are you doing here? Ah, never mind." He turned back to Dar. "We're wasting time. Here's the deal."

  Kerry settled back in her seat, lacing her fingers together. She remembered Bridges, all right. A mover and shaker that even her father had respected, rude and brash to her mother, a most unwelcome guest.

  Not someone she'd really wanted to get involved with.

  "I imagine you know all about the damage to all that technical stuff in New York," Bridges said. "That's all your company's business."

  "Not exactly," Hamilton broke in. "Just want to get that cleared up. That ain't all ours."

  "That's right," Dar agreed. "We do have some customers affected there, but most of the business infrastructure there isn't ours."

  "You finished talking?" Bridges asked. "Yes? Good." He leaned on his forearms again. "I don't give a damn if it was yours or Martha Stewarts to begin with. The problem is it's broke."

  Dar shrugged, and nodded. "It's broken," she agreed. "What does that have to do with us?"

  "Well, I'll tell you," Bridges said. "I called all those bastard phone company people into this office, and they all told me the same thing. Sure, they can fix it, but it's going to take time." He studied Dar's face intently. "They gave me all kinds of BS excuses why. Now--" He held up a hand as Dar started to speak. "I'm not an idiot. I know two goddamn buildings at least fell on top of all that stuff. Don't bother saying it."

  Dar subsided, then lifted both her hands and let them drop. "Okay. So they told you it would take time to fix. It will. They're not lying about that."

  "I know," the president's advisor said. "The issue is it can't."

  Kerry rubbed her temples. "Mr. Bridges, that's like saying the sun can't rise tomorrow because it would be inconvenient. There's a physical truth to this. It takes time to build rooms, and run wires, and make things work."

  "I know," Bridges said. "But the fact is it can't take time. I have to open the markets on Monday. That stuff has to work by Sunday so those idiot bankers can test everything. We have to do it, Ms. Roberts. I'm not being an asshole for no purpose here. If we don't restore confidence in the financial system, we stand to lose a hell of a lot more than a couple hundred stories of office space housed in ugly architecture."

  There was a small silence after that. Bridges voice faded off into faint echoes. Dar tapped her thumbs together and pondered, reading through the lines and in between his gruff tones and seeing a truth there she understood.

  Alastair had understood, immediately. There was a lot at stake.

  "Why me?" Dar asked, after a long moment. "You had all the Telco's in here. It's their gear. It's their pipe. It's their equipment. They have to do the work. What the hell do you want from me in
all this? I don't have a damn magic wand."

  "Ah." Bridges pursed his lips. "Well, fair enough.

  You're right. It's not your stuff. Your company has nothing to do with the whole thing, other than being a customer of those guys who were in here. But the fact of the matter is, when I squeezed their balls hard enough, what popped out of the guys from AT&T was that if I wanted this done in that amount of time, come see you."

  "Me." Dar started laughing. "Oh shit. Give me a break."

  Hamilton had his chin resting on one hand, and he was simply watching and listening, the faintest of twitches at the corners of his lips.

  "Why is that, Ms. Roberts?" Bridges asked. "I don't really know who the hell you are, or what your company does, except that it keeps coming up in the oddest conversations around here about who knew what when and how people who work for you keep showing up in the right places with the right stuff."

  "Well now," Hamilton spoke up for the first time. "What old Dar here's going to say is she's damned if she knows why, but fact is, I do," he drawled. "It's in our portfolio, matter of fact. "

  "Hamilton." Dar eyed him. "Shut up."

  "Dar, you know I love you more than my luggage." The lawyer chuckled. "Mr. Bridges." He turned to the advisor. "Those gentlemen from our old friends American Telegraph and Telephone told you that because they know from experience standing in front of hurricane Dar here is one way to get your shorts blown right off your body and get strangled by them." He ignored Dar's murderous look. "She just doesn't take no for an answer."

  Bridges got up and went to the credenza, removing a pitcher and pouring himself a glass from it. "I see." He turned. "Is that true, Ms. Roberts?"

  Dar drummed her fingers on the table. "When it suits my goals, yes," she said, finally. "I've been known to be somewhat persistent."

  Kerry covered her eyes with one hand, biting the inside of her lip hard to keep from laughing. She could sense Dar peeking over at her and worked hard to regain her composure.