The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic

by Michael Ivan Lowell

  “When Bailey and Scott sided against the Council, I sided with them,” Scarlett continued. “But don’t misunderstand. I’m not a rebel or a patriot. I didn’t grow up here, I have no allegiance to your flag. This is my father’s country, not mine. Everyone thinks I’m still a terrorist. But the first people my father ever terrorized was my brother and me. We escaped him and we stopped him. My brother died stopping him. But that wasn’t enough. The good guys”—she made quotes in the air when she said this —“that you’re fighting for forced me to kill even more people. If it weren’t for John”—she glanced over at Spectral—“and a few others...” Scarlett peered down at the floor and adjusted the blue choker around her neck. “Let’s just say I have debts I can never repay.”

  Awkward silence.

  Sophia wondered why the hell she was bearing her soul to them all of a sudden. That seemed suspicious. Lantern had that look on his face she’d come to recognize that meant he was seeing something he didn’t like. He could feel it, too. This woman was still hiding something.

  Revolution swung his legs off the gurney and planted them on the floor. “I’m going to need a situation briefing, ASAP,” he said, clearly changing the topic. “What are we doing about the Minutemen?”

  Lantern stepped forward. “Sir, we’re trying to get them back to Boston, but it’s slow going. The Council has most roadways blocked. I can only shield them a few at a time.”

  “Find an alternative. What about the wounded?”

  “Same, back to Boston.”

  “No, you bring them here.”

  ‘Sir,” one of the med techs who had been hiding around the corner spoke up, “we don’t have the space—”

  “We’ll make the space, whatever it takes,” Revolution said. “I’m not letting our best medical technology sit unused when we have wounded nearby.”

  The tech nodded, and Lantern stepped back to send the orders. Revolution turned toward Scarlett. “If you two have given us an element of surprise we should try to use it.” Revolution peered around at the battle-scarred Sophia and Ward. “If we can.”

  A few more medical techs had entered the room, trying to assess what they could do. When Ward saw them he instructed them to move more gurneys into the room. Sophia was glad. Her knees were starting to buckle. She was going to need to sit soon, and she knew she needed medical attention. They all did. She also couldn’t wait to get the damn helmet off.

  Revolution turned toward Lantern. “Find Scarlett and Spectral a room where they can stay for now.”

  Lantern nodded.

  Revolution eyed Scarlett. “You’ll understand that we’ll have to talk about this.”

  Scarlett gazed around at the group. “Of course.”

  Lantern strode over to them, but Scarlett balked.

  “Wait,” she said quickly. She raised her arms toward Lantern, and everyone’s breath caught in their throats.

  No one had power, no one could stop her. Only the Revolution, and he was still incredibly weak. His armor could respond, but the man inside might be too slow.

  Lantern gasped...

  As his visor beeped back to life.

  He let out a huge sigh of relief.

  “I’m sure you’d all like your toys back,” Scarlett smiled.

  She reactivated all of them. Except for the MagCharge, which she simply handed back to Rachel with a frown.

  She and Spectral followed Lantern out of the room, and they all breathed a little easier. Two heavily armed Minutemen guards appeared and escorted them down the hallway to the living quarters. Sophia figured Revolution had called them remotely.

  “I still don’t trust her,” Sophia said immediately.

  “Fuck, no,” shot Rachel.

  “None of us do,” said Revolution. “But she did bring me back, and her story checks out on the power outage...”

  Sophia knew he was checking news coverage in his helmet-visor.

  Revolution spoke into the general com so that all of them could hear. “Keep guards posted outside their room twenty-four-seven. Make sure they know they can go anywhere they please just like the rest of us, but they have an escort with them at all times.”

  “Yes, sir,” came back the reply from the head of security.

  Sophia smiled. “Man, you really don’t trust them, do you?”

  “Spectral can be as hard to see as you,” Revolution replied, gesturing toward Rachel.

  “Not quite,” Rachel said back. “His powers of invisibility are just like Fiona Fletcher’s, right?”

  Revolution nodded.

  “Then Lantern’s got a detector ready for that.” Rachel smirked. “I know because I helped him work on it. Didn’t want it detecting me,” she said as way of explanation.

  “Unless that bitch disables it,” Sophia hissed.

  Rachel’s eyebrows arched. A thought she’d clearly not considered.

  “General,” Leslie’s voiced squawked from the monitor, “maybe it’s a good thing you’re still sitting down. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.”

  CHAPTER 6

  NEW YORK CITY

  FREEDOM RISE

  Clay Arbor opened his eyes to blinding light.

  “Colonel Arbor, it’s nice to have you back among the living,” came an official-sounding voice that Arbor immediately recognized as military brass. Military brass—but still his subordinate. He could hear it in the tone.

  Either that or a Lithium fanboy. Maybe both.

  A sharp pain shot through Arbor’s chest, and he remembered taking the bullet from that new Suns of Liberty kid they were calling Neuro. “Don’t feel like the living,” Arbor grunted.

  “Sir, I’m supposed to get you up to speed immediately. I’m sorry I can’t give you more time to adjust.”

  “Got any whiskey?”

  “Uh, no, sir.”

  “Then you should be sorry. Go ahead, do your job...” Arbor squinted against the light and saw the young man’s uniform. At least they had the good sense to send a Marine. He squinted harder. Two silver bars with small connectors in the middle. The insignia of a… “Captain,” Arbor grunted.

  Nice. The rank Arbor had been before Chairman Howke had promoted him less than a month ago. If that little gesture was meant to lift his spirits, it worked. Arbor grinned his mouth-full-of-teeth signature smile.

  The captain scurried over to the television set that was hanging on the wall of the luxury hospital room. Arbor glanced around and realized he’d been brought to Freedom Rise. At least he knew he was getting the best care.

  “Sir, there’s been some developments,” the captain said, his voice a bit shaky.

  “What kind of developments?” Arbor asked warily.

  On the screen the headline said it all: MEDIA CORP SPLITS, HOWKE’S CHAIRMANSHIP UNCLEAR.

  That made Arbor sit up straight. “Jesus,” he breathed. The on-air anchors mused for a bit about not knowing exactly which company they worked for at the moment: Media Corp or a new entity—formed out of a shareholder revolt—called Americom, which was headed by the former CEO of Media Corp and founding Chairman of the Freedom Council, Thomas Sage. The two companies were still busy splitting their assets.

  “Howke might be out?” Arbor asked out loud, though not really needing an answer from the captain, who gave him one anyway. Arbor suddenly felt a rush of pity for William Howke. The man had treated him well in the short time he’d been chairman. Gave him a promotion way up the ranks along with real responsibilities and a team to lead.

  The anchors continued their reporting. With Media Corp splitting, General Defense had become the single largest company on the Council. That meant that Bannister Tarleton, the company’s young CEO, should be chair. But Howke’s term as chair had just started and wasn’t up for another three months. The Council had never faced such instability. Thus, the controversy.

  “Jesus,” Arbor responded as the anchor’s on-air discussion continued.

  Media Corp shareholders were calling for Howke to resign from the ch
airmanship so he could focus solely on reversing the company’s stock decline. If he resigned, he was expected to nominate Sage to be Chair of the Council. Sage would immediately be eligible, as the new firm Americom was now the third largest on the Council. Despite the split in companies, Sage and Howke had remained good friends and confidants, the anchors explained.

  “Sage could come back,” Arbor said, astonished at the thought. Sage was a guy Arbor had looked up to, but he’d never utilized Arbor’s alter-ego Lithium’s talents to their fullest extent.

  Not like Howke had.

  After spending fifteen minutes discussing the issue, the anchors brought on a specialist who emphasized why she actually believed there was little likelihood of Sage returning. “Tarleton would have nearly enough votes to win on his own,” she explained. “General Defense has seen its share price soar, while nearly all other Council shares have declined along with Media Corp.”

  Along the bottom of the TV screen, Arbor watched a rolling stock ticker that showed it all in real time. General Defense shares just kept soaring while all the other Council stocks were in free fall. The anchors would even break in from time to time to comment on the share prices.

  Investors seemed to be betting with their dollars that Tarleton would be chairman and would institute the Iron Fist and usher in a new era of weapons production. The previous two chairmen had both come from the largest corporation on the Council, the anchor’s pointed out, making it unlikely Council members would vote against tradition—or, more importantly, against the expectations of investors.

  “Hey,” Arbor called over to the captain. “So, what’s my deal?” Arbor pointed over to his med chart on the wall.

  The captain didn’t need to look at it. “You came in her with a bullet hole in your chest, collapsed lung, and multiple cracked ribs. They patched you up, though, real good.”

  “Penetrating chest trauma, huh?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what the docs called it,” the captain said with some surprise.

  “Not my first rodeo, sweetheart.”

  “Sir, I’m afraid only you and X-Ray made it out of Philly. Rage and the Spectral are... unaccounted for. Presumed...”

  “I know,” Arbor said with a heavy sigh. “But Howke is still chairman for now, right? And I’m still the head of the Legion?”

  “There is no more Legion, sir. Like I said, it’s just you and Ray now.”

  Arbor felt his temples pulse. He pursed his lips, pointed up at the TV. “Why the hell does Howke even let reports like this run? I’d shut this shit down right now. Jesus!”

  “I don’t know, sir.” The captain looked uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “Maybe...” the captain stammered, “maybe it’s because we’ve heard rumors Mr. Sage wants to reunite Media Corp under one roof again.”

  Just then the anchors broke in to announce that Howke would make an official announcement within the hour that he was resigning and Tarleton had been named acting chairman. Most of this political shit befuddled Arbor, but even he could see this was to calm the investors’ nerves. All this analysis and now a slow rollout of a change in leadership. It all served a purpose.

  “Nah,” Arbor said. “They can’t just say any damn thing they want,” he admitted. “They get something big like this wrong they lose credibility, and then they lose the big money bags.”

  Another headline ran along the bottom of the screen, alerting to further declines in Council shares. “They’re trying anything they can to stop this slide. It’s all about the money.”

  NORRISTOWN, PA

  COMMUNICATIONS ROOM

  “It’s all about the money,” Leslie’s holographic image explained. “The operation at the Hall has depleted our operating funds. We’re running on fumes.”

  “How are the reserves?” Revolution asked.

  “Not good. I’m already in talks with the Europeans. We’re close to a deal. Sounds like they’ll give us a loan, and do so publically. I spoke with EU president Ryner and she’s convinced her party. Now she just has to convince her coalition in Parliament. If she does, the EU can move on it quickly.

  “If the EU turns against the Council in public”—Revolution savored the idea for a moment—“that would be huge.”

  “Yeah. And if not, we could be in some real money trouble.”

  “Understood,” he said, gazing about the facility’s communications hub at all the equipment—floor-to-ceiling computers and communications devices of every sort—and wondering just how much it was costing them to run this single room. He tried to think of the bright side. “The Council’s shares have dropped, what, twenty percent? If the Europeans come out in support of us—”

  “Even more. They were at 77.6 percent of total shares on the New York Stock Exchange. As of now, that figure has fallen to 62.2 percent. That’s a... 24.8 percent decline,” Leslie said, and Revolution knew she had done the math in her head. Just one of her many talents.

  “Our strategy’s working,” Revolution said.

  “If it falls below fifty...hell, if it even approaches fifty percent, they’re going to see a crisis in confidence like never before.”

  “We just have to hold out,” Revolution agreed. “Always has been a war of attrition.”

  “And hope we can find a way to pay our bills until the EU comes through... without the Council noticing where we get the funds. In the meantime, how’re things there?”

  “Drayger’s still in surgery, and Ward and Sophia are being prepped. But they both have fairly severe concussions. We’ve ruled out any serious brain damage, but it could be days, weeks, even months before they are fully healed. I’m not sure how soon we’ll be ready for a major mission. Rachel and Lantern are pretty good. So, we’ve got eyes and ears if we need them, but that’s about it.”

  “The Europeans may be willing to help on the medical front, too. I think ten years of funding the Council has them feeling pretty guilty. I’ll talk to president Ryner about sending supplies. I’ll get back to you on it as soon as I can.”

  “How did you get them to agree to all this, anyway?”

  “Well, among other things, I have to do an interview with the BBC.”

  “What?”

  “They’re sneaking me over to London tomorrow night.”

  LONDON, UK-EU

  TWO DAYS LATER

  Leslie Gibbons readied herself for action.

  She marveled at just how little heat the intensely bright lights of the BBC’s London studio was putting off.

  She and her interviewer, the lanky Stuart Castel—who had been the BBC’s American correspondent for as long as she could remember—were seated across from each other in what looked like, at least from the camera’s perspective, a very fine library.

  Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stocked with only leather-backed tomes lined the walls and created a backdrop behind Leslie for when the camera was on her. A faux marble fireplace was to Leslie’s left, the camera to her right. Red-and-gold elegant drapes framed the shot behind Castel. It could have easily been a room in the White House. And that was the point, she was told.

  This would be a real interview, with real questions. Still, the BBC made no bones about the fact that they resented the tight hold Media Corp had on news coverage in the U.S., and it was high time to get the Resistance viewpoint out there, unfiltered. This was her chance to speak to the world.

  With the rise in Leslie’s own personal star since the raid on the Hall of Chambers, now was an especially good time to do this. She was already a rock star in Europe.

  The little red light on the side of the camera lit up, and the director said, “We are live in...” She counted down three-two-one on her fingers. And then they were off to the races.

  Castel leaned in with a welcoming smile. “Dr. Leslie Gibbons, it’s such an honor to have you here. When you disappeared ten years ago you were one of the biggest names in science. Globally honored, internationally renowned. Now with your reemergence, interest in you is at a peak again. Ca
n you tell us something about the organization that you run?”

  Leslie shot him a warm smile. “Well, first of all, thank you for having me. I was elected to be the president of the Congress of the Revolution, or COR, as we call it. It is a democratically elected body of Resistance leaders across all fifty of the United States. As it stands now, it is the only democratically elected national body in the country, I’m afraid.”

  Castel shook his head. “You say ‘only democratically elected,’ but isn’t the U.S. Congress still elected every two years? The president?”

  “Yes, elections are held, but they are in no way democratic. For one thing, the other major political party, the Unity Party, was banned ten years ago. The government denies that, but everyone knows it’s true. That’s a problem for a two-party system when you ban the other party.

  “Second, those members in Congress are almost all Freedom Party members, loyal to the Freedom Council. And third, members of Congress, the president, even the judiciary, have no powers that the Council can’t simply reverse at the drop of a hat. So, yes, we are the only nationally elected democratic body. And our goal is to restore democracy to the entire republic, just as it was, just as it should be.”

  Castel shifted in his chair and cocked his head as if he was considering something very seriously. “Now, the Freedom Council calls you all terrorists, Dr. Gibbons. It rightly points out that the legislation that brought the Freedom Council into being was voted on by a democratically elected Congress, signed by a democratically elected president, and found constitutional by the Supreme Court of the United States, was it not?” Castel raised his arms, pen still in one hand, as if he were taking notes, which Leslie had noted, he was not. “Why not find a more peaceful path to reform? Why resort to violence?”

  “A more peaceful path,” she scoffed. “Somewhere around a million of my fellow countrymen were murdered ten years ago in what we now call the Purge. My own family...” Leslie felt her throat tighten. She told herself she would not do this. “My own family was taken from me.” The knot in her throat kept her from speaking. It ached, and her vision blurred. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on staying calm. She straightened her back and stiffened her lip.