Authors: Craig Buckhout
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
“All right everyone, thank you for coming,” Jessica said. “I called this meeting so everybody has a chance to hear exactly what happened today and not just the rumors. Almost all the main players are here — Louis, Max, Frank, Myra over there, and Steve. Oops, where’s Steve? Oh, there you are, sitting with your wife, raise your hand Steve. Her eyes paused for the briefest moment on Godfrey and moved on. We’re missing Jeff Zito, he’s the officer who was wounded. He’s in the hospital, and I’m happy to report he’ll recover. And we’re also missing Walt Briggs, who is on-duty tonight. So let’s get started.
You know basically what happened; some people, without any provocation, attacked our security earlier today. Jeff was wounded and two of the assailants were killed. Starting from there, do you have any questions? Just one at a time please.”
A man in his sixties stood right away and said, “I thought we came here to get away from all this. What’s the point of staying? I may as well get shot at in my own home. At least there I’d be comfortable.”
Raha, who had become more and more assertive in the last few days, stood up next and said, “Let me tell you people something, it’s a lot safer here than out there. Here we have somebody standing guard and shooting back. Out there …” she pointed in the general direction of the street, “…out there, there’s nobody standing guard. You have to listen to me about this. I know what I’m talking about. One bunch of terrorists killed my husband and another bunch tried to kill my kids and me. If it wasn’t for Max, what’s left of my family would be dead. You’re safer here than anywhere else.”
Lieutenant Godfrey stood, cleared his throat, and said, “I think everyone here knows me, but just in case I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting some of you newcomers, my name is Lieutenant Myles Godfrey, San Jose P.D. I’ve been with the department for nearly twenty years. Now to my point, which is more of a comment than a question; there should have been a better security plan. Officer Calloway is well meaning and wants to do a good job, but he isn’t qualified to handle something this complex. He should step aside and let me direct security. I just have more experience at this sort of thing.”
At that, Frank shot up out of his chair, “You’re not qualified to wipe my ass,” which got a lot of laughs. “If you take over security, I’m out of here and you can cook your own damn meals. There’s a good God damn reason why Max is running things and not you.”
Will Mason stood and said, “I trust Max. If he’s out, I’ll take my family and leave town. Thanks to Louis and the others, those people today didn’t get past the fence. So, in other words, the security plan worked. Things are changing, though, getting more violent. We’re just going to have to change with it.”
A woman in her forties with perfect makeup, raised her hand and said, “But he’s a higher rank isn’t he …” pointing to Godfrey, “…so he knows more? What if one of those bullets came through a window and hit one of us? What then?”
At this point Jessica stepped forward again and said, “Let me explain something to all of you. Even though I have full faith in Max, we don’t have a vote here as to who from the police department handles security. The chief of police already made that decision. We decide just about everything else but not that. So this discussion we’re having here about who should be running security is a waste of time. This meeting is just to help you understand what happened today and explain what changes we’re going to make because of it, so each of you can individually decide if you want to stay or leave. If you don’t want Max to handle security and it’s that big of a deal to you, then leave. Nobody is keeping you here. Simple as that. Otherwise, do you have any questions about what happened and what we’re going to do in the future to deal with these types of situations, should they occur?”
While Jessica was talking, Max noticed Godfrey and the man sitting next to him whispering to one another. When Jessica finished her speech, this man was the first to raise his hand.
Jessica pointed to him, and he immediately stood to his full height of at least six foot four. “My name if Francis Nolan and my son works at the police department taking fingerprints from some pretty bad characters, let me tell you; murderers, rapists, thieves, all kinds of really bad people. Well, there’s a rumor going around that a criminal is being held right here in this building. And I’m wondering if this criminal being here had anything to do with what happened today.”
Max couldn’t stand-by quietly any longer. He felt he had to speak up. “I can address that,” Max said. “The man you are most likely referring to is not, I repeat, not a criminal.”
“Yeah, but he came straight from a federal jail, right?” Nolan said.
Max stepped around to where he could see Godfrey’s face, which remained stony, but otherwise neutral. “That is the only truthful part of that rumor. He is a young man whose only offense is he wrote a blog critical of the federal government and posted some photos of some Homeland Security cops molesting a woman-friend of his. That made the Homeland Security people angry, so they arrested him, beat him, and threw him in jail without benefit of bail or representation. Under the threat of prosecution, those responsible released him to us. So he’s down the hall right now being treated for his injuries. When he’s able, he’s free to stay or leave just like all of you are. As for his connection with what happened earlier today, there is none.” …Other than the possibility that Tattoo and Shorty put them up to it, Max thought.
“So you’re saying our government and not this …this person, is the criminal? That’s a little hard to swallow.”
“If you could see what he looks like after being in a federal jail ….”
Before Max could finish his statement, the building rocked and the electricity went off, putting everyone in complete darkness.
Chairs shifted. Someone, a man, shouted, “What the hell?”
Another voice, this one a woman’s, said, “What’s happening? Is it an earthquake? It could be an earthquake.”
A third voice asked, “No, we’re under attack? They’re doing it again.”
Finally, Will said, “Everyone calm down, will ya. Jeeze! It’s a power failure. That’s all. If the electricity doesn’t come back on in sixty seconds, the backup generators will kick in.”
Less than thirty seconds later, all the lights came on and the start-up of a giant diesel engine could be heard. There followed a smattering of applause and more questions about the cause.
Will stood and said as he was walking out of the room, “I’ll see if I can find out what happened.”
Jessica announced, “Okay folks, we have lights so let’s finish up our meeting. Before we get to the next question, let me add that I was out front when the young man who we were talking about was delivered to us by Lieutenant Godfrey, and I concur with Max’s description and assessment of that particular situation. Now, let’s move on. Next question, please.”
A Hispanic woman stood up this time and said, “Okay, I agree with what someone said a little while ago about things getting bad out there. I went to my house to get some things for my kids and it was broken into. My neighbor said yesterday a group of gang members came into the neighborhood and just started breaking into the homes where nobody was present. They didn’t even try to be sneaky about it. My neighbor said he shouted at them, but they, well, just paid him no mind.”
Jessica, sensing the woman had started out with a question, but forgot to ask it in her story telling, said, “Is there a question for us?”
“Oh, yes, I guess I want to know if you’re going to do more to protect us?”
Jessica looked at Max, “Okay Max, you wanna tell them what you told me earlier?”
“Sure,” Max said. “First, let me explain that the building already came with a security system that includes infrared cameras that cover the entire perimeter of the property. We have someone monitoring the cameras at all times, but we could use some more volunteers to help with that. So if anyone is interested in helping, please let Jessica know, and we’ll fit you into the schedule. Secondly, up to today, we had two security people outside the building at all times. We’re now going to more than double that number. One will be on the roof behind a bulletproof, sandbag barrier, and four will be on the ground, outside the building. The ones on the ground will work in pairs, and at least one on each team will be armed with a rifle, shotgun, or carbine. We already have a couple of rock barriers in place to give them some protection, but now we’re going to add two more of ’em. We also have enough handheld radios and batteries to equip everyone working security. And finally, we’re going to use the PA system to warn everyone in the building to take cover if we come under assault. One more thing; we need at least three volunteers per shift to work with the two armed officers stationed outside. I know you don’t have to be reminded of this, but let me say it anyway; we’re doing all we can to make you and your families as safe as possible, so we expect you to help out in that regard. Any further questions?”
Will walked back into the room at that point and, since nobody had the floor, announced, “Right now, all we know is the electric company experienced some sort of a problem at one of their substations that just happens to be only about a mile from here. If we learn what the problem is before, let’s say 9 PM, we’ll announce it over the PA system. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to find out any news. Our back-up system will keep the lights on and the other critical equipment running.”
After Will finished, there was a pause in the conversation. It went on for several seconds before a young man of about twenty stood up. “Ah, since nobody else has anything, I guess I have a question. Does anyone know anything more about the President’s new order outlawing public gatherings of more than ten people?”
The man seated next to Godfrey volunteered, “Don’t worry about it. They know what they’re doing.”
Someone from the middle of the room shouted, “Yeah they know exactly what they’re doing. They’re trying to prevent people from demonstrating against all these rules that violate the Constitution, that’s what they’re doing.”
“Hey, they’re trying to protect us the best they can.”
The meeting went on like this for another ten minutes until an off-duty dispatcher, who was taking a turn in the substation’s communications room, entered and whispered something in Max’s ear. Max, in turn, signaled over Will and Jessica.
After a short conversation, Jessica said, “Can I have your attention everyone? We’ve just learned that a bomb was set off at the power station down the road from us, and that’s why we have no power.”
Will quickly added, “Don’t worry, we have plenty of fuel to keep the electricity on until the power company reroutes power and gets us back on line.”
After the meeting concluded, Max, Steve, and Will went up on the roof to discuss constructing an additional sandbag position. From that vantage point, they could see the entire southeast section of the city was without lights. They could also hear gunshots and see an occasional muzzle flash here and there.
“It’s the wild fucking west out there,” Steve commented.
After a bit of silence where each pondered the ramifications of what was happening, not to just San Jose, but everywhere, Will said, “Maybe tomorrow I’ll see about getting hold of some solar panels, just in case.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
June 22nd
Myra got in at 3 AM, so was still asleep, the new rock barriers weren’t scheduled to be delivered for an hour yet, and everything seemed to be running smoothly. With nothing else to do, Max decided to take his morning cup of coffee up to the roof garden, which was really just a weed garden, but still about the only place he could get some peace and quiet.
As soon as he set foot on the roof, he smelled it; a strange combination of smoke and diesel fumes. The diesel smell he could understand, they were still under generator power until sometime around mid-afternoon when, Pacific Gas and Electric said they’d have electricity restored. But the smoke now, that was something that definitely deserved investigating.
He did a slow tour around the exterior of the roof, stopping to speak to Seth Mason, Will Mason’s fifteen year-old son, who was standing watch behind the sandbag barrier constructed the day before. Seeing the teenager there made him think if all this trouble continues much longer, they would have to do something about school for the kids. Parents were afraid to let their children out of their sight, so they certainly weren’t willing to let them attend classes in a place historically targeted by crazies with a gun. Should he start recruiting a teacher? Not a bad idea, he thought, maybe a couple of them. It would keep the kids occupied and perhaps give people a sense of normalcy. He made a mental note to speak with Jessica about the matter.
“Where’s the smoke coming from?” Max asked.
Seth pointed down, on the other side of the sandbags. “Building on fire,” he said, passing off a set of binoculars he had hanging around his neck.
Seth was almost a carbon copy of his dad; tall and built like a fullback. He just didn’t have the shaved head and the beard.
Max focused in on the heavy black smoke coming from a structure about a mile away. Fire engines were already on the scene, and the street was blocked at one end by a blue and white patrol car. The smoke was too thick to see what was going on at the other end of the street.
“Know what’s burning?” Max asked.
“Got no idea, but it’s been going for a while now.”
Max called Arnie Dunn, who was monitoring the computer, scanner, and security cameras. “Hey Arnie, you know anything about a fire to the south of us?”
“Let me check,” he said.
During the wait that followed, Max asked Seth if anything else was going on.
“Not really. About an hour ago, I spotted a couple of guys near the backside of the fence. They took off when dad and that lady cop, I mean Officer, Maureen …I forget her last name, went to check ’em out. No guns or anything.”
Arnie came back on the phone. “Yeah, somebody firebombed the Social Security office. No injuries, at least as far as the event reads.”
“First the bombing of the power station last night and now this. Things ain’t looking up.”
“Yeah? Well, the real fireworks start in about four hours. There’s supposed to be another big demonstration at the Federal Building in defiance of the President’s order against gatherings of more than ten people. With the stock market dropping another two hundred and thirty points, the government limiting the amount of money people can withdraw from their bank accounts, and another one of those bombs going off in Boston, it makes for the start of a real shitty day.”
“Another dirty bomb?”
“Yup, about an hour ago; somewhere around the harbor.”
“Jeeze, anything else?”
“Not yet, but hey, the day’s just getting started.”
After Max hung up, he told Seth about the building on fire being a federal building and how it started.
After a few seconds of thought, Seth said, “Well, that’s stupid. It’s not buildings that are making people mad.”
Max spoke with Seth for a few more minutes, thanked him for spotting the people near the fence, and went downstairs to the kitchen to refill his coffee.
Frank and two others were busy cleaning up after breakfast and preparing for lunch. “Hey, Max, I gotta talk to you,” he said.
Frank was once again wearing what had become his standard uniform of the day — olive green cargo pants, a white, V-neck tee-shirt, and a tiger-stripe camouflage boonie hat.
“Talked to Will this morning,” Frank said. “I guess we ran out of cots last night. He says there’s another one of those storage containers loaded with disaster gear at Almaden Lake. We’re gonna make a run over there later this morning after those rock containers get delivered and grab what they have. I think I also need to get more food.”
“Really? Didn’t you just buy a bunch of food?”
“Yeah, I know, but we got another twenty in yesterday and we’ll no doubt get more in today. Plus, I called Costco to see if they had some of those big, number ten cans of tomato sauce, and they said they did, but things were selling out fast. People are buying food and water like it’s the apocalypse. I gave him my credit card number, and he said he’d hold onto a pallet of the stuff for me, plus a few other items. But I think we better get over there and buy as much as we can.”
“Well, like I said the other day, it’s not my decision, it’s between you, Jessica, and the committee. What’s her feeling on it?”
“She’s behind it. Gave me a budget.”
“Okay, tell you what; I’ll grab Steve, and the four of us can go in two vehicles. That way we can get everything in one trip.”
The lot was packed with cars, so they had to park further away than they wanted to. They grabbed two flatbed carts and made their way inside. The place was jammed with a lot of anxious looking people.
The man Frank had spoken to met him at the door and ushered them to the back of the warehouse where everyone helped load eight cases of tomato sauce and an equal amount of diced tomatoes onto one of the carts, wrapping them with plastic so the load wouldn’t topple over. They next went to the meat department where there was two hundred pounds of frozen ground beef waiting for them. Frank thanked the man who helped them, and all four started cruising the food isles.
Everything was pretty much picked over. They did manage to get sixteen large bags of coffee beans, some basic spices — garlic, onion, cumin, oregano, thyme, salt, and pepper — a whole box of Fuji apples, three, twenty-five pound sacks of flour, four of rice, twenty bags of elbow macaroni, and a dozen giant boxes of instant mash potatoes. Will saw a Costco stocker wheeling out a cart full of broccoli and literally fought off half a dozen people to get two full boxes of it. They pushed their carts to the front, and when they paid the twenty-four hundred dollar plus bill in cash, got some pretty strange looks from the people around them.
Because they had so much, they were escorted to the exit by an employee and were allowed to pass without going through the normal security check ritual.
As they wheeled their carts out into the parking lot, they became aware of two men following them. Steve and Max dropped back and confronted the pair.
“You following us?” Steve said.
The older of the two, a man in his forties wearing a red and green Hawaiian shirt, said, “Whoa, hey, chill, we’re just a couple of businessmen looking for a deal is all. We’re strictly non-violent.” He flashed the peace sign.
“What do you mean deal?” Max asked.
“Well, ah, we we’re wondering if maybe you might be interested in selling some of that stuff. You got a lot there, so maybe you don’t exactly need it all.”
“Now why would you be interested in buying our food?” Max asked.
“Well, see, we figure this is only the beginning. In a few days, maybe a week or two, when things get really bad, there won’t be no food; or at least not much of it because it’ll be all bought up. So, you see, if we buy a little now, here and there, hold on to it, well, …” he shrugged his shoulders, “you know ….”
Max nodded his head. “Yeah, I know. But what’s keeping you from just going inside and buying food yourself?”
“Have been, but you got some stuff there that they don’t got no more of. Tomato sauce and hamburger are in high demand.”
Max nodded his head. “So what makes you think things are going to get worse?”
“Just do is all. But it’s not so much if they are or aren’t, it’s what people think that’s important to selling stuff.”
“And people think it’s going to get worse?”
“Damn straight. Everyone’s talking about it. Some figure the government will take care of them, so they’re just kinda going with the flow, if you know what I mean. Others think, well, they don’t think the government will do jack for them, and if they’re going to make it, you know, in a survival sort of way, they got to stock up. Those are the ones you see in there,” he said pointing his thumb over his shoulder.
“So what other stuff are you buying?”
“Well, think about what you use all the time; TP, soap, all kinds of food, cooking oil, coffee, booze, that’s a good one, bullets if you can find ‘em, batteries, bottled water, just whatever anybody wants, and if we had a way to store it, gas and diesel. So, you want to sell some of your stuff?”
“Nah, not interested in selling anything, but if you have a number, maybe we might be interested in buying.”
“Yeah? Well, ah, …” he started patting his pockets, “I don’t got nothing to write it on.”
“Just say it. I’ll remember it.”
The man provided his phone number.
“Okay, maybe we’ll call you. You can take off now.”
“Oh, right, okay, maybe we’ll see you around then.”