Autumn (Four Seasons Book 1)

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Autumn (Four Seasons Book 1) Page 37

by Robert Sullivan


  “Okay, I’ve got this one,” Liam said, pausing it again. “We can’t continue the failed policies of the Hoch administration as their inaction has led to the troubles that plague the nation today. We need strong, bold change to deal with the violence and the economic depression that plagues the country.”

  “Pretty standard response, but it will do,” Abby said. “It won’t take much with him.”

  Liam started the video again. “The country time and again has turned to the Center for a more measured response than what an extremist would say. In this time of crisis, we must listen to reason, not madness.”

  “I could pick that apart easily enough,” Liam said. “He’s being too vague. I should try to call him out on specifics and show he doesn’t know what he is doing.”

  “Honestly, that won’t need much effort,” Abby said. “It’s just something you should keep in your back pocket in case he gets too annoying.”

  “The practice should still be good,” Liam said.

  “Yeah,” Abby said. “Where’s Ryan?”

  “Doing something in New York,” Liam said. “He’s looking to rent out a space for a victory party on November 6th.”

  “Shouldn’t you have done that more than five weeks in advance?” Abby asked.

  “We’ve been busy,” Liam shrugged. “Do you know how many states we visited in September?”

  “Almost all of them,” Abby sighed. “I’m getting tired of travelling.”

  “We won’t have to as much after the election, one way or the other,” Liam said.

  “I’m really looking forward to that,” Abby said. She paused and said, “Liam, what do you plan on doing with me if you win?”

  “If I win?” Liam asked. “I was going to ask if you wanted to continue in your capacity as a speechwriter. Only you would do it in the White House.”

  Abby looked like she was going to start crying. “Thank you, Liam. I…I really appreciate this.”

  “I wouldn’t trade you for any other writer in the country, Abby,” Liam continued. “Your words have almost gotten us across the finish line. Just a little bit further and you will be a Presidential speech writer.”

  “I can’t wait for that,” Abby said breathlessly. “Why don’t we take a break for now. We’ll try some responses for the Progressive later.”

  Abby walked out of the room, leaving Liam seemingly alone. “You haven’t told her yet?” a voice said.

  “She doesn’t need to know until it cannot be hidden anymore. You didn’t take long though,” Liam said, picking up a coffee in front of him. “What is with all of those bodies?”

  “Jared was cleaning house,” Ryan explained, walking into the hotel room where Liam could see him. “Apparently, he realized that he had Continental spies in the Black Hand, and well, let’s just say, Jared did as Jared does.”

  “Did he kill all of them?” Liam asked.

  “Actually no,” Ryan explained, sitting down in front of him. “I managed to rescue a few of them, in a sense.”

  “The Reeducation Program?” Liam asked.

  “Yes,” Ryan said. “We’ve found people who are skilled in breaking people and reshaping them into a mold. I needed some people to test it on before we rolled out the full program in January.”

  “If we win,” Liam cautioned.

  “Are you still worried about that?” Ryan said, frowning.

  “I’m always going to be worried about it until such time on November 6th I hear these words: ‘Liam Hensen has been elected the 50th President of the United States’.” Liam said bitingly.

  “Look,” Ryan said. “There’s not much that could stop us at this point. We just need to play it cool for five more weeks and we will have the country.”

  “Not entirely,” Liam said. “We’re missing two key components. If we win, we’ll probably also get the House and you and I both know we already have the bureaucracy. But we can’t win the Senate this cycle and there is an even worse roadblock than the Senate: The Supreme Court.”

  Ryan looked thoughtful. “I suppose court packing is out of the question?”

  “If Franklin Roosevelt couldn’t get away with it, how would I?” Liam asked.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve been reading that book about the great Presidents,” Ryan said. “Still though, don’t worry about the courts or the Senate for now. If you are still worried about whether or not you’ll win the White House, then you just need to focus on that for now.”

  “I’m sick of debate prep though. There’s still two weeks until the damn thing anyway,” Liam said.

  “Yeah and you have to go up against three other people, one of which is gunning for you above all,” Ryan said.

  “Do I have ammunition against Hall then?” Liam asked.

  “There’s been a significant increase in Black Hand activity in the center part of the country,” Ryan said. “With luck, you will.”

  “Well, in case that is not good enough, I’ve got plans in a couple of nights,” Liam said.

  “I’m going to the opera in New York.”

  “What the fuck are you going to learn that could help us with Felicia Hall at the fucking opera?” Ryan asked, exacerbated.

  “You’d be surprised,” Liam said. “Besides, it’s been forever since I’ve had a night for myself. I think I’ve earned it.”

  Ryan sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing. This isn’t really the right time of the campaign to be trying to take the day off.”

  “I’m not trying, I am taking an evening off,” Liam said firmly.

  In the first weekend of October, Liam found himself back in New York City. He had visited the city so often during the campaign that he wondered whether he should buy a house in the city. He had gotten quite used to the hustle and bustle of the city and thought it would be a good place to retire. This evening found him at the Metropolitan Opera House for a balcony seating of Rigoletto. He had gotten the balcony tickets for two people, one for himself and one for his guest.

  Liam got himself seated and waited for the show to start. Despite the real reason he had scheduled this meeting, he still wanted to enjoy the opera. He had a taste for classical art and music and it had been a long time since he had been able to make time for it. It was a good excuse for him to enjoy a little bit of class before the debate and its expected lack of decorum.

  A few minutes before the show, his guest turned up. He was an agent at the FBI, whose name was Jackson Trotter. “Agent Trotter, how are you?” Liam asked.

  “I’m fine. I don’t know about this venue though. There are a lot of people who will see me with you,” Jackson said.

  “I’m not worried about that,” Liam said. “They won’t know who you are at least. I’m just here to enjoy a night at the opera and you just happened to be a guest of mine.”

  Jackson still looked unsure, but said, “Fine. What are we watching anyway?”

  “Rigoletto.” Liam said. “An opera written two hundred years ago by Giuseppe Verdi. You definitely know one of the songs, ‘La Donne E Mobile’.”

  “I’ll just have to be reminded,” Jackson said as the show finally began.

  During the third act, Liam decided that it was a good time to bring up the business that he had with the federal agent. “So, what do you have on Hall for me?” Liam asked in a low voice.

  Jackson looked around to make sure that no one was looking at them and then handed over a folder. “We couldn’t dig up anything on Hall, so we just made something up. We thought that some financial crime would do nicely.”

  “What, not some sex scandal?” Liam asked.

  “Nobody cares about that kind of thing anymore,” Jackson said. “You know, that would have ruined someone’s career fifty years ago, but now nobody bats an eye. And it’s not like Hall has made a secret of her, um, interests.”

  “So, what is it money laundering? Bribery?” Liam asked, looking through the folder.

  “A little bit of both,” Jackson said. “We’re going to make it l
ook like she was trying to buy the Presidency.”

  “Good,” Liam said, sticking the folder in his jacket. “Now this is the song that I was telling you about.”

  “You know, you’re right, I do remember this,” Jackson said.

  Chapter Forty

  Evacuation Plan

  October carried on in the Northeast, bringing increasingly chilly weather. Fall was in full swing in the region, with the trees all turning to their brilliant red, orange, yellow, and brown hues. Greg would normally would be enjoying the cooler temperatures and the beautiful scenery, but with the recent events, he had other things that he had to worry about instead.

  The Black Hand at long last had flushed out Eric’s spy ring. Most of the spies, the ones who couldn’t go into hiding quickly enough, were either dead or unaccounted for. As Eric had bitterly put it, “It just means we haven’t found their bodies yet.”

  Eric was living on Greg’s couch at the moment, having himself gone into hiding after feeling the heat. He was not really talking to anyone, having taken the loss of his spies very hard. Greg found his presence awkward as Ashley was still living with him as well, but he allowed it as he blamed himself for not anticipating the crackdown.

  One morning, Ashley was cooking both of them breakfast as Greg tried to get Eric to start talking again. “Eric, we need to come up with a plan and you are a part of the leadership council,” he said.

  “Greg, take it easy on him,” Ashley called from the kitchen. “He’s been through a lot lately.”

  “We all have,” Greg said impatiently. “Those were all Continental fighters and they were all killed before they could see action and take it to the enemy. We lost a whole fucking company!”

  “I know, Greg,” Ashley said calmly. “But he’s lost a lot more than some soldiers. Those were his friends.”

  “She’s right, you know,” Eric said hoarsely. “Some of them I went to high school with and got them involved in this spy ring because I thought we were doing something important. But it turns out that I was just sending them into a slaughter. There wasn’t a point to all of this, Greg.”

  “Yes there was,” Greg said. “We’ve done a lot of harm to the Black Hand with the information that your people brought us.”

  “What good did that do?” Eric asked bitterly. “Yeah we took out a bunch of Black Hand, but for what? They came back anyway. We barely even slowed the fuckers down and we lost a third of everyone. How do we replace them?”

  “We’re not going to do it here,” a voice behind them said.

  “Who’s that?” Eric demanded.

  “The leadership council,” Greg sighed. “We need to talk after everything that happened.”

  The Continental leaders had all come at once at Greg’s call. After the Black Hand had cleared out the spy ring, Greg had decided that it was at last time to pull the Continentals out of New York. With the spy ring broken, their lead on information gathering had been shattered and they no longer held a tactical advantage over the Black Hand. As the Black Hand continued to grow, their information had been the only thing keeping the Continentals level with the street gang. With that advantage gone, there was no use staying in the city for much longer.

  “Okay, we need somewhere to go,” Greg said.

  “Do we stay in this region of the country or do we go to the other side of the continent?” Charles asked.

  “It’s hard to say,” Zach said, standing at the window. “The fuckers are all over the country. The only place we could really get away from them is Canada and that won’t accomplish anything if we intend to keep fighting them.”

  “Are you saying we can’t hide in Canada and raid across the border?” Christine asked.

  “No sarcasm today,” Greg said. “We need to go somewhere in the country where we can be effective.”

  “There’s only one other place in the country where we have a heavy enough presence where we could be effective,” Ashley said. “Kansas City.”

  “I thought you said that wing collapsed?” Greg asked.

  “Not completely. They struggled for a while and I considered them on death’s door, but they grew quickly following the ambush in Carmel,” Ashley explained. “They’ve been actively interfering with the Black Hand there. It’s good that they were too, because the only place that the Black Hand have been more active than they have been here is in the Midwest.”

  “Why the hell are they so active there?” Greg asked.

  “I’ll be damned if I know,” Ashley said.

  “I suppose you think that’s my fault,” Eric said.

  “It’s not anyone’s fault,” Christine interjected. “Eric, no one is blaming you for what happened. You couldn’t have known.”

  “If I had done my job better, I would have,” Eric said.

  “What’s done is done,” Zach said. “We need to move on from this and dwelling on this massacre won’t help us get out of the city any quicker. We need to get out and then take our time to mourn.”

  “Is there anyone that disagrees with Kansas City?” Greg asked.

  There was no dissent. “When do we want to move out?” Charles asked.

  “I think within the month will do,” Zach said. “It gives everyone plenty of time to pack up everything we need.”

  That pronouncement made the situation real for them. Getting out of the city would be more complicated than just driving halfway across the country. “We need to get into contact with the Continentals there in Kansas City,” Greg said. “Ashley can you do something about that?”

  “Yes, I can get their leader to call,” Ashley said. She pulled out her phone and stepped away from the room.

  “Alright then,” Greg said. “Everyone else, you need to pack your things.”

  “I’m going to shuffle my people back out to the training grounds up near the lake,” Zach said. “It’ll ease our presence in the city so we’ll be harder to find.”

  “What would that accomplish?” Eric asked.

  “If we spread out, we’ll be harder to find,” Zach explained. “They’ll be able to handle themselves up there until I recall them to help us move. We aren’t going to be able to take much with us because it might be that we won’t be able to stay in Kansas City.”

  “So we’re going to be homeless?” Christine asked apprehensively.

  “It’s going to be a hard go, but we’ll be fine,” Zach said.

  Christine rubbed the bridge of her nose. “This is going to suck.”

  Later that evening, Greg was waiting for a call from the leader of the Kansas City wing of the Continentals. Eric had gone with Zach to see to the transport of the troops out of harm’s way, leaving the apartment to just Greg and Ashley. She was contenting herself to watching TV and with the only debate of the 2040 campaign rapidly approaching, all of the networks were talking about the sensational event.

  Greg sighed. “I can’t wait for this election to be over. How far away is it?”

  “Four weeks,” Ashley said. “I guess it’s just different for you because you aren’t from a state that’s used to a lot of attention from Presidential candidates.”

  “No,” Greg said. “Local candidates, sure, but New York’s not a competitive state. Have we ever even voted for someone who wasn’t a Progressive or a Democrat?”

  “The last time was 1984,” Ashley said, looking the matter up on her phone. “Reagan’s second election.”

  “Goddamn,” Greg said. “Must’ve been a landslide.”

  “525 electoral votes to 13,” Ashley said, continuing to look at the election’s result. “Nothing’s gotten even remotely close since then to those kinds of numbers.”

  “Didn’t Obama?” Greg asked. “It seems like he would have.”

  “He maxed out at 365 in his first election,” Ashley said. “That’s not even close to the record.”

  “Listening to him, you’d think otherwise,” Greg muttered under his breath. “Anyway, is this, uh, Spencer going to call anytime soon?”

&n
bsp; “He’s busy these days,” Ashley said.

  “Doing what?” Greg asked.

  “Well, it’s like I said earlier,” Ashley explained. “The Black Hand is really busy in that part of the country and he’s busy with that and the rapid expansion of the Continentals there.”

  “And we’re only going to add to that,” Greg sighed.

  “He’ll understand and appreciate it,” Ashley said. “Especially since we’ll be bringing Zach’s soldiers.”

  “We’ll have more room to operate there,” Greg admitted.

  “What do you mean?” Ashley asked.

  “It’s not as dense in the Midwest, right?” Greg asked. “There’s less people, more space, more room to operate.”

  “I suppose,” Ashley asked. “I think that’s more of Zach’s expertise.”

  Greg’s phone rang. “About time,” he muttered, answering it. “Hello?”

  “Greg Carlton?” the voice on the other line answered. “My name is Spencer Hayes. I’m the leader of the Continentals out here in Kansas City.”

  “It’s good to hear from you,” Greg said. “How’re things out there?”

  “They’re busy,” Spencer admitted. “Very, very busy. Between the Black Hand’s surge in activity and our surge in recruitment, I’ve had my hands full. That, and we’ve lost a good portion of our spy network that we had across the region.”

  “You too?” Greg asked.

  “Have you had the same issue?” Spencer asked.

  “That’s actually what I asked you to call about,” Greg asked. “We’ve been planning for some time to move away from the city. I’ve been told that your operation is the strongest of any of the Continental forces outside of New York.”

  “I guess so,” Spencer said. “I’m not in much contact with anyone else except for Ashley.”

  “What I’m saying is that when we leave New York, we’re going to come to Kansas City to use as our new base against the Black Hand,” Greg explained.

  “What do you have with you?” Spencer asked wearily.

 

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