“A lot’s happened since I saw you before.”
“Like what?”
“Like soldiers stopped us when we were out walking and arrested Jenna. She was taken away.”
CHAPTER 48
Quarantine
Day 20
Viktor Rutkowska, four days after the day he removed his cache of weapons and ammunition from beneath his tool shed floor, again dialed the telephone number he’d copied from the notice posted on the front door of his gun shop. He wanted to ask about the closing of his business and how he would be paid for his guns and loss of business. This was the first time anyone in half a week had picked up the phone and answered his three calls.
Just like the bureaucrats in Mother Russia. Useless fools.
“How am I to earn a living if I cannot sell my guns?” he said. “You tell me. You’re the government.”
“Sorry, Sir, the woman’s voice on the other end of the telephone call said, “but that is not our problem. We are here to protect everyone. You must make do on your own.”
“But this is America,” Viktor said. “I am citizen now, have rights like all American citizens. You cannot take my guns from me and not pay me. I read the American Constitution when I studied to be citizen. I have rights. Not like in Russia.”
“We have emergency powers, Sir, as it states in the notice put on your premises where you found this telephone number. You are welcome to come to our headquarters, examine the inventory of your property we created, and then file a claim for compensation.
“Be sure to bring purchase receipts and proof of ownership with you if you come here. That’s all we can do for now to help you. Thank you, and call again if we can be of service” The young woman ended the call without further word.
Viktor stewed. This was outrageous. This is what he expected from his former homeland, not from America. He hadn’t relocated all these kilometers from Mother Russia, learned what was necessary to become an American citizen, only to have the so-called American dream stripped away from him, just to be told by some fool of a bureaucrat he was out of luck.
Well, he thought, I will show them who they’re dealing with. I will make the authorities regret they stole my guns and destroyed my business.
CHAPTER 49
Quarantine
Day 20
Trace looked skeptically at Ibrahim, paused, then said again, “Jenna, arrested? Why?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t say why.”
Trace nodded.
Ibrahim described how he and Jenna had been out walking when soldiers drove up and surrounded them. After some questions they took Jenna away.
“They made me lie face down on the sidewalk. One of the soldiers kept his boot on my back. They let Jenna stand. I was left face down when they took her away. I don’t think ten words were said the whole time.”
“Did they check your IDs?”
Ibrahim shook his head. “Never asked for them.”
That’s strange. “Look, Ibrahim, I’m sorry to do this, but I’ve got to get back to my family. I was on my way there when you stopped me. There’s a problem with my wife’s mother I need to deal with.
“Let’s meet later today. We’ll figure out some way to find out about your friend.”
Ibrahim frowned, but nodded. He seemed disappointed.
“How about on this corner at 3:00?” Trace said, as he checked his watch.
Ten minutes later Trace sat on the floor in front of the sofa, facing Isabella, his legs crossed Buddha-style. Isabella sobbed. She buried her face in her hands.
Trace reached out to touch her, hesitated, and then pulled back. She needs to cry this out, he decided.
At 2:40, Trace looked in on Nanna. She was sleeping. He came back to the living room and explained to Isabella that he was going out to meet Ibrahim.
Trace arrived late. Ibrahim was already there, smoking and pacing. When he saw Trace, he flicked his cigarette into the street.
“Sorry I’m late,” Trace said.
“No problem.”
“Anything go on while you were waiting for me?”
“Some army-types in their protective suits walked by and gave me the eye. Guess they wondered why I was standing here alone doing nothing but smoking. Fortunately, they left me alone, didn’t stop and ask.”
“Have you come up with any reason Jenna might’ve been arrested?”
Ibrahim put his hands into his pockets. “No,” he said, “I’ve been with her most of the time since we arrived here. If she did something wrong, I’d know, and I would have done it, too, and also been arrested.”
Trace thought about this. He decided not to say what he was thinking, that it probably was something in Jenna’s past, something picked-up by the ODMC’s computer when she registered. Instead he said, “We need to find where they’ve taken her, then find out why. Did the soldiers say anything at all that might help?”
Ibrahim shook his head. “Nothing.”
Trace stared into space, thinking. I should be keeping a low profile. That’s always best in conflict. It increases your options to act.
He looked at Ibrahim. I shouldn’t let this kid bumble his way into trouble. I need to watch out for him.
Trace looked back at Ibrahim, shook his head slowly, then said, “We’ll go to ODMC’s headquarters, ask about her. You okay with that?”
Fifteen minutes later, Trace and Ibrahim sat in a reception room at The Pillars Hotel — a room that once had been used for banquets in this renovated hotel-turned-military headquarters building. Movable accordion dividing walls ran from the floor to the ceiling along metal tracks.
After stating their business to the corporal sitting behind a dark-green metal desk, Trace and Ibrahim sat side-by-side at a long wooden table filling-in security questionnaires.
Trace quickly navigated his copy of the form, inserting his name, his pre-quarantine residence and business addresses, and his social security number. He checked the No boxes alongside the questions whether he ever was known by any other name or if he had ever been convicted of a felony. He checked the box for military service, and explained his SEAL career in one line.
He filled in Isabella’s married and maiden names, and, reflexively, inserted Pete’s name in the blank for children. When this last action registered in his consciousness, his momentary lapse brought his form-completion to an abrupt halt.
Jesus, did I just do that?
Trace took his fountain pen and carefully drew a thin line through Pete’s name, which still was legible, but now clearly no longer applicable. Then Trace wrote, just above Pete’s excised name, Recently deceased.
The form completed, Trace carried it and his photoID to the corporal. Ibrahim trailed closely behind. The soldier looked over both forms, then said, “Take a seat. The colonel will see you when he’s ready.”
He stood up from his desk and walked the forms out of the room.
CHAPTER 50
Quarantine
Day 20
Approximately fifty minutes after Trace and Ibrahim arrived at the hotel, the corporal answered the ringing telephone sitting on his desk and then walked over to them.
“Follow me,” the corporal said. “The general will see you now.” He turned to lead them down a corridor.
“General?” Trace said. “I thought we were waiting for a colonel?”
The corporal ignored the question. He led them to an office and knocked on the door.
After he saluted and exchanged some words with the person inside, the corporal led them over to chairs in front of a large desk.
An officer — a general, as Trace could tell from his uniform insignia — faced them from the other side of the desk. The nameplate on the desk read, General Anthony Vista.
Armed sentries stood at parade rest, one on each side of the desk, facing Trace and Ibrahim.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?” General Vista said.
“We’re here to—” Trace started to say.
“Mr. Austin,�
� Vista interrupted,” as he focused his attention fully on Trace, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Tell me, why did you abandon your brothers in the SEALs?
Trace jerked up his head, suddenly extra-alert. “I didn’t abandon anyone. It wasn’t like that. Anyway, what’s that have to do with anything?” How does he know about Panama? And why does he care?
“I have an order out to pick you up, Mr. Austin. I guess I can kill it now that you’re here.”
Trace was confused. He said, “Why would you want to pick me up?”
“I’m asking you again, Mr. Austin,” Vista said, as he stood up behind his desk and faced Trace directly. “I know you received a decoration after the Blackhawk crash, but that was political. Doesn’t mean crap. You’re a disgrace to this country’s uniform. You better have had a good reason to have deserted the SEALs. There are men who would give anything to have the opportunity you abandoned, the opportunity to be a member of our military’s Special Forces.”
Trace frowned, but decided to answer Vista’s anomalous statement in vague terms. “It’s ancient history. It has nothing to do with anything now.” Nothing, perhaps, except there’s a pattern there for me, he thought. First my SEAL teammate, then Pete, now Nanna. None helped by me.
“That’s a matter of opinion, Mr. Austin.” Vista stared at Trace and narrowed his eyes, but said nothing more. He looked over at Ibrahim, then immediately back at Trace.
“You’re both in our computer database,” Vista said, looking first at Ibrahim, then at Trace. “Let’s see why.” He tapped some keys on the desktop’s keyboard and watched the computer’s monitor.
“Here we go,” he said. “First, a warning against unlawful assembly for you both. That’s one entry. Then your report, Austin, of your son’s death. That’s two entries for you. Your presence here today is another entry for you both.” He paused, looked hard at Ibrahim, then said, “Why are you here today, Young Man?”
Trace answered for Ibrahim. “Your soldiers took away a young woman named Jenna Burke, his friend,” Trace said, nodding at Ibrahim. “We want to know why she was arrested and where she’s being held.”
“That’s classified.”
“Let us see her,” Trace said.
“Not possible. As I just said, it’s classified.”
“With all due respect, General, you can’t just pick up some kid and hold her—”
Vista slammed his fist on the desktop.
“Yes, I can, Mr. Austin. I can pick up and hold anyone I want, for any reason I want, or for no reason at all if I want, including holding you,” he said. “That’s what martial law is all about.”
Trace felt his neck and shoulder tighten. He forced himself to concentrate on his breathing. He stared hard at Vista.
“In fact, Austin, if you’re entered into the database again, for your fourth time, for any reason at all, we’ll hold you, too, for as long as I want. Consider yourself warned.”
Trace, from the corner of his eyes, saw Ibrahim shrink back against his chair.
“Now, if there’s nothing else you gentlemen need, I have work to do,” Vista said. He looked at Trace, smiled a crooked smile, and said, “I’m glad we finally met.”
He nodded toward the corporal who took a step toward Trace and Ibrahim. They left with the corporal.
They were five minutes into their walk away from General Vista’s office when Ibrahim finally spoke.
“Were you really one of those crazies, those SEALs?”
Trace’s eyes narrowed. He looked at Ibrahim, started to snap his reply back at him, but hesitated and held his thought. He nodded his answer, then added, “I was. Not anymore. I’m retired.” He picked up his pace.
After another ten minutes of walking, Trace and Ibrahim arrived back at the corner they’d met at earlier.
“I have to get back,” Trace said. “Call me if anything comes up.”
CHAPTER 51
Quarantine
Day 20
Vista called his major into his office.
“Have this person followed,” he said, as he handed Trace’s file to the officer. “I want close attention, daily reports on all his activity, but no engagement. Not yet.
“I don’t care if he’s aware he’s being followed.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I want the names of everyone he associates with, not just generalities about him meeting some unknown male or meeting an unidentified female.”
CHAPTER 52
Quarantine
Day 22
Three days after being snatched by the roving military patrol while she was out walking with Ibrahim, Jenna jumped from a HUMVEE as it slowed down and pulled over to the curb. She looked up and down the street. Satisfied no one was watching her, she nodded to the soldier who was manning the vehicle’s automatic weapon, threw him a kiss with the flick of her wrist and hand, then pranced off.
She headed for the hotel, silently rehearsing what she would say to Ibrahim about her absence, although she hoped he wouldn’t be there. That would be the easiest situation to deal with for now.
Jenna picked her way across the hotel lobby to the place where she and Ibrahim had been squatting. He was there, stretched out against the wall, sleeping. She stood above him and looked down, smiling. Now that she actually saw him, she was glad he was there.
Jenna lowered herself to the floor, keeping her back against the wall. She stretched her legs out in front of her. Once settled, she carefully lifted Ibrahim’s head, holding it in both hands, and placed it on her lap. Ibrahim didn’t wake up. Jenna fell asleep sitting in that position.
Later, when the noise of the lobby had substantially subsided, when the rheostat had been turned down bringing dusk to the room, Ibrahim awoke. Finding himself with Jenna, with his head on her lap when he opened his eyes, he hugged her waist as she slept.
Ibrahim never noticed that Jenna was feigning sleep, her eyes not quite closed, watching and listening.
Jenna remained quiet as Ibrahim settled back into sleep. She closed her eyes and remained still.
When she was sure Ibrahim was again in a deep sleep, she eased herself away from him, stopping her movements every few inches to see if he stirred.
When finally she was satisfied she could stand without waking him, she stood up and then threaded her way through the lobby, out onto the front steps, into the night’s curfew.
Outside now, Jenna reached into her back pocket for her cell phone. She punched in a number and pushed the SEND button.
When someone answered her call, she said, “I’m back in. I’ll call again tomorrow.”
She pressed the END button and walked back into the hotel. On the way she opened the phone, removed the SIM card and broke the chip in half. She placed one part of the SIM Card in her pocket to dispose of later and the other half in the trash can just inside the hotel’s entrance. She stopped walking briefly, inserted a new SIM card, and pocketed the phone.
CHAPTER 53
Quarantine
Day 22
The deputy secretary of defense waited until the door locked, sealing him and the senior members of his staff into the Pentagon’s Level 4, ultra-secure Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility — known as a SCIF — meeting room.
“We’ve received the first comprehensive reports from Fort Lauderdale,” he said. “The data are consistent with the information generated by the CRAY computer models and data mining efforts.”
He paused and looked at his notes.
“There is one anomaly, however. The rise and apparent success of several vigilante groups supporting the population far exceed the model’s predictions.”
“What do we know about this, Sir?”
“Not enough. Actually, not much, at the moment. The most active vigilante group, called Friday’s Progeny — after Robinson Crusoe’s island mate, I suppose — has been penetrated by one of our assets. We’ll soon know more about Friday’s Progeny than they know about themselves,” he said.
“No
w, let’s move on and get a short status report from each of you . . . .”
CHAPTER 54
Quarantine
Days 22 and 23
Trace tossed and turned all night, debated getting up and going to the living room to read, but each time surrendered to reason and tried again to sleep. Finally, about an hour after dawn, he gave in to his restlessness and sat up.
He looked over at Isabella. She was sleeping, lying on her stomach.
He knew she’d gotten up during the night, probably to look in on Nanna, because he had rolled over several times and reached for her, but she wasn’t in bed.
Trace tiptoed around the room gathering his clothes, took them into the bathroom, and showered and dressed. When he finished and was ready to leave, he went back over to the bed and kissed Isabella as she slept. He left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. He wrote a brief note telling Isabella he was going out for a few hours to reconnoiter the Quarantine Zone. He wanted to think about how he would create a SEAL-like team from amateurs he hadn’t even met yet. He let himself out the front door and walked toward the beach.
When Jenna woke that morning, Ibrahim still was sleeping, but his head was no longer on her lap. He was curled on his side with his back to her. She sat up, stretched, and then stood and walked across the lobby, stepping over and around sleeping bodies. She went outside and began walking toward the beach in search of something to eat.
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