Autumn (Four Seasons Book 1)

by Robert Sullivan

  “Spencer, do you have a megaphone or something?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied. “They might have one up at the protest though you could steal.”

  “Good,” she said, striding purposefully towards the shouting.

  Georgia and Spencer struggled to keep up as Rebecca made her quickly to where the shouting was greatest. She could barely discern the noise of a megaphone over the din of the crowd. Rebecca turned towards the noise of the megaphone, fully intent on stealing it so she could plead her case.

  As she made her way to the noise, she noticed several people wearing red bandanas over their faces walking towards the protest. Rebecca stopped and looked at them closely and noticed that they were carrying rocks, bricks, and blunt objects. She was confused until she saw that the bandanas on their faces were not entirely red; there was a small black hand on the sides pointing downwards.

  “Oh shit,” she said to herself.

  “What, what is it?” Spencer asked.

  “Look at those guys in masks,” Rebecca replied, pointing. “They’re the Black Hand. They’re going to try to start a riot.”

  Spencer saw who Rebecca was talking about and said, “Son of a bitch. We need to stop them.”

  “How? There are only three of us and there are going to be a lot more of them,” Rebecca said.

  “We need to get a hold of that megaphone and warn everyone,” Spencer said. “One of us needs to also go find the police and tell them that they are here.”

  “I’ll do that,” Georgia said. “I’m still not quite ready to be a part of the fighting yet.”

  Georgia disappeared into the gathering crowd to find a police officer, leaving Rebecca and Spencer to try to force their way through the crowd to get to the megaphone. As they moved towards it, Rebecca noticed even more people in red bandanas moving in, increasing her sense of panic. They needed to do something fast before they started something dangerous.

  Rebecca had to start elbowing her way into the crowd to get them to move. Despite the cries of outrage at her aggressive behavior, they did not try to stop her as Rebecca finally fought her way to the stage. Spencer followed closely behind as she leapt towards the speaker and took the bullhorn from him.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted, outraged.

  “I’m trying to prevent a riot!” Rebecca said angrily.

  “What?” the speaker replied, confused and angry.

  Rebecca ignored him as she shouted into the bullhorn, “Everyone, you are in danger! The Black Hand is here! They’re wearing red bandanas and they’re going to try to start a riot!”

  The crowd did not respond, as if unsure how to react to the threat. Rebecca glanced through the crowd and saw several of the Black Hand staring at her. For what seemed like an eternity, they just stared at each other as the crowd continued to get more restless. The speaker took the bullhorn back from her and shouted, “Get her offstage!”

  Spencer led Rebecca offstage while she kept her eyes on the Black Hand. They finally broke eye contact as Rebecca lost them in the crowd. “Spencer, we have to go back!”

  “Rebecca, there isn’t anything you can do right now,” Spencer explained urgently. “We just need to get away right now and hope that Georgia can get to the police in time.”

  As Spencer pulled Rebecca down the adjacent street, they passed another group of Black Hand instigators moving towards the crowd. Rebecca tried to break away from Spencer’s grasp to charge at them, but he managed to hold her back. “Georgia!” he said suddenly. “Did you find an officer?”

  Georgia nodded and said, “They just laughed at me. They didn’t give a fuck.”

  “Then we just need to get out of harm’s way before…” Spencer started.

  A loud explosion rocked the street behind them. The three of them had to duck down as a shower of debris rained down around them. Rebecca looked at Spencer in shock, then behind her towards the screaming crowd.

  “We need to move!” Spencer shouted. “We’re going to get trampled!”

  Rebecca saw what he meant; those who were not injured by the explosion were starting to charge down the street towards them. Spencer dragged Rebecca and Georgia off of the street and down an alley as the crowd moved past them. Spencer looked out of the alley as the stampede passed and said, “The Black Hand is tearing up the street. Let’s get out of here!”

  “We can’t let them do that!” Rebecca said, outraged.

  “Rebecca!” Spencer shouted. “There are only three of us and dozens of them. We can’t do anything except get the hell out of here and protect ourselves!”

  Rebecca was furious, but realized that Spencer was right. She followed him grudgingly down the alley towards their parked car. They got there without incident, avoiding the view of the swarming police cars in case they were identified as possible witnesses. After getting in, Rebecca turned to Spencer and said, “What the FUCK are we going to do?”

  “What can we do?” Spencer said indignantly. “Our Conspiracy is barely a concept right now. Nobody involved with the old group wants anything to do with us now because of Peter recklessly endangering people’s lives! And we can’t recruit new people because they don’t think there is a problem!”

  “They will now,” Rebecca said grumpily as they drove away from the scene.

  The heat of the summer was beginning to build in earnest a few days after the riot. The Black Hand devastated a wide section of downtown, though no one was officially calling it a Black Hand event. They were content, as always, to pretend there was not a problem to protect their own positions. The leaders of the city had even gone so far to tell the police to stand down, even as the Black Hand had carved a path of destruction through a wide swath of downtown.

  Rebecca’s mood had not improved in the few days since the riot, but she was powerless to do anything as she had been stuck inside the Smith household since that time. Ed and Kathleen had tried to encourage her to focus on something else, but she could not focus on anything other than revenge. Her fury had even taken her mind off of Anne, hard though that had been in the past month.

  Late in the evening, as the sun was setting and the heat of the day began to pass, Rebecca found herself sitting on the balcony of her tower, staring off into the horizon. She was bored and irritable, having spent the last several hours in that position. Georgia had tried to talk to her about the Conspiracy, but Rebecca had only silently brooded until Georgia gave up.

  Rebecca was distracted from her brooding mood momentarily when she saw Spencer’s car pulling up towards the house. The two of them had not spoken since the riot, which led to Rebecca’s current state of confusion. She watched idly as he pulled up to the house and got out of his car along with a dark-skinned man he had apparently driven there. Rebecca’s brow furrowed as they came up to the house and entered.

  A few moments later, there was a knock at her door. Rebecca barely looked at them as Spencer, Georgia, and the stranger entered the room. “Hey Bec,” Spencer said gently. “I have some good news.”

  “Who is he?” Rebecca demanded.

  “This is Himmat,” Spencer replied calmly. “He’s offered to help us get the Conspiracy going again.”

  “Why would he be able to help?” Rebecca asked.

  Himmat cut in, saying with a bare trace of an Indian accent, “Spencer, let me handle this.”

  Rebecca raised her eyebrows as Himmat continued. “Your friend contacted me some weeks ago about the Black Hand and I ignored him. He contacted me because I’m a community leader and I hold considerable sway in Leawood. If I suggested to people that they get involved in the fight against the Black Hand, they would do it. But they need a leader, so I wanted to see what you all had to offer.”

  “I can assure you, we are what you are looking for,” Spencer said.

  “You don’t worry me,” Himmat said. “But all I’ve heard about you, Rebecca, is that you are emotionally unstable and a danger to the cause.”

  “Who said that?!” Rebecca sa
id, outraged.

  “Spencer,” Himmat said.

  As Rebecca turned towards Spencer to unleash her fury, he cut in and said, “I did not say it like that. I said that you were dealing with a horrible loss and you haven’t been thinking clearly. You tried to get yourself killed the other day!”

  “I was going to try to stop those thugs!” Rebecca said indignantly.

  “How?!” Spencer said, outraged. “This is exactly what I am talking about! You have no understanding of how to take on an enemy! You would just put yourself and others in harm’s way!”

  “So what are you saying?” Rebecca demanded.

  “Rebecca, I know you are going through a hard time,” Spencer said. “But you need to get better before you can get involved with the Conspiracy again. Take some time, get some counseling, try to heal.”

  “If you were going to tell me that, why did you bring him along to see this?” Rebecca said caustically.

  “I wanted to meet you,” Himmat said. “It seems that your heart is in the right place, but you need some time to recover from your loss so you can think clearly. I think Spencer will be more than willing to let you back at that point and I will be more comfortable telling people to join your fight.”

  Himmat and Georgia left, leaving Spencer alone with Rebecca. “I’m sorry it had to be this way, Bec,” he said as he turned to leave.

  Rebecca glared at him with as much contempt as she could muster as he left. She was alone again and despite her fury, a feeling of loneliness was beginning to creep in again. She looked at the empty side of the room where Anne’s bed had once been and the loneliness intensified. All she could do was throw herself on her bed and try to sleep it off. She reasoned that she would at least be happy in her dreams.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Conservative Convention

  In the wake of the most recent round of rioting that ripped the country following the Globalist Convention, the other party conventions had been forced to change their plans, shortening them and adding more security. While this had gone over well in three of the other conventions, the presumptive nominee of the Conservative Party, Felicia Hall, had furiously resisted any attempt to change the itinerary of her convention. As the leading candidate in the race, she had insisted on a show of strength to confirm her front runner status.

  The Conservative Convention was scheduled to occur in the last week of June in Philadelphia. Despite the increased desire for security to be provided by the government in the wake of the increased violence, the Conservatives had adopted a platform on lessened government interference and increased personal freedoms. Explaining how this would end the rioting was tricky, but personal freedoms were still important to a good number of people, enough to give Hall the lead some nineteen weeks before the election.

  Felicia had arrived in the city where the United States was born the day before she was due to make her acceptance speech. She was being shuttled by the Secret Service to the hotel she would stay at until it was time to make the speech. As she rode from the airport to the hotel, she made a phone call to her Vice-Presidential candidate, Senator Chris Washington of Kansas.

  “Chris, how is Florida?” she asked.

  “It’s good. I think we won’t have any problems holding the Panhandle. The problem is the I-95 corridor and the Miami area. Hensen’s made a lot of headway down there,” Chris explained. “He might outmuscle Sanchez down there.”

  Felicia sighed. “I don’t know where these Globalists get their support. Hensen’s platform reeks of statism, not anything that belongs in the United States.”

  “People are scared,” Chris replied. “And when they’re scared they don’t think clearly. I don’t think it will affect us too heavily.”

  “He’s close though,” Felicia said. “Too close. We need to knock him out before we get to the debate.”

  “You’ll need to talk to Jasmine about that. She’ll give you a way to do that,” Chris explained.

  “Thanks, Chris. This is going to be a long election,” Felicia said, ending the call. “Are we almost there yet?” she asked the driver.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he replied. “We’ll be there in about five minutes.”

  Felicia nodded and settled back into her seat. She did not like talking about Liam Hensen, viewing him as an upstart threatening the four-party system. In a year that she would otherwise be running away with the election, Hensen was a threat to her chances at the White House. The sooner that she ousted him from the race, the better it would be for her.

  Jared was in his apartment in New York as Felicia was travelling through Philadelphia. In the three weeks since staging the fake abduction with Liam, the Black Hand had seen a sudden surge in activity in New York and in other areas. Now that his gang had attracted national attention, the other gangs of the country were suddenly falling into line. In staging the kidnapping on national television, they had shown their power and the other gangs were eager to share in their success.

  With the swell of new recruits, Jared had seriously expanded his operation. From the starting points in Los Angeles, Kansas City, and Miami, the Black Hand had grown up and down the East and West Coast and all over the Midwest. With the growth of the organization and the money from various crimes it was bringing in, Jared was seeing a significant uptick in disposable income in the city. He had decided to put the money into an overseas slush fund to keep away from the Fed and provide money for weapons and other supplies the Black Hand would need.

  Jared’s own personal hit squad had been restructured as well. In light of the swelling ranks of the Black Hand, the squad had swelled as well to the point where keeping it as a single unit was impractical. Much like it had been before John’s Rebellion, as it was being called, the Black Hand was being organized, albeit slowly, at the borough level throughout the city.

  Vincent was being placed in charge of Manhattan as Ethan had once been. The other positions were being interviewed for, something Jared was leaving to Vincent. He would whittle down the candidates so Jared only had a few to talk to.

  In the meantime, Jared had been in contact with the Globalist Master, who was acting as a middle ground between the Black Hand and the Globalist campaign. This was simply to avoid detection by the authorities as it would likely destroy Liam’s campaign if he was found to be in contact with the most destructive force in the country at the moment.

  Jared was watching TV idly when the messenger suddenly activated. He jolted up in his seat and grabbed the phone. The message was simple. “The Conservative convention ends tomorrow in Philadelphia. Disrupt it at will. Do not kill Felicia Hall.”

  Jared was confused by the message. Despite the recent involvement with the Globalist campaign, he had not cared to look into the Presidential election. He did not understand why they would want another party’s convention torn up, but at the end of the day, he did not care. All he needed from the Globalists was a direction to unleash his hordes at and they had given him another one.

  The next day was a dreary day over the Northeast as the Conservative Party began their big night. Philadelphia was on virtual lockdown, with the police and the National Guard on high alert for any sort of trouble. This had been the only way that the authorities would allow them to hold a full convention. Fear had gripped the city, which was just the way that Jared wanted it. The authorities would likely overreact to any little incident, allowing him to turn Philadelphia into his playground.

  Felicia Hall was annoyed by the vast motorcade that was escorting her to the Philadelphia Convention Center. She did not think any one person was worth shutting down an entire city, but it had been this or not have the convention the way she wanted it. She planned on apologizing to the people of the city at the outset of her speech. Felicia wanted to make it abundantly clear she did not think this lockdown was okay.

  For her beliefs though, she struggled to find a solution to the growing threat of the Black Hand in the context of her ideology. Sweeping out the Black Hand was going to take a
show of force that would likely inconvenience people all over the country. Then there was the matter of getting the economy growing again and dealing with the numerous wars overseas. It was going to be a hard time for her to keep her beliefs and help the country turn its fortunes around.

  Felicia was going to explain all of this at the convention in her acceptance speech. She was convinced that she would be able to sway the American people away from Liam’s program and towards her. This was her moment and no amount of police presence was going to distract from that.

  Jared had been content to stay in New York during this operation. The idea was to spread small-scale attacks throughout the city and keep the people there on edge, something that did not require his presence. He was satisfied to send a detachment of his people into Philadelphia to help the Black Hand already in the city with the operation.

  While he waited for the chaos to commence, he decided to call Julia. It had been a while since he had made contact with his former borough commanders and he felt it was time to make sure that everything was going well in America’s heartland. Julia answered the phone on the second ring with a tepid, “Hello?”

  “Julia, this is Jared,” he said shortly. “How is the expansion going?”

  “It’s going well,” Julia said. “We’ve got cells in St. Louis, Chicago, Wichita, and Denver. We’ve got plans for cities in Oklahoma and Texas.”

  “Good. Any problems?” Jared asked.

  “Not really,” Julia said. “There was a small incident though.”

  “What kind of incident?” Jared said angrily.