State of Emergency: Jack Emery 2 (10 page)

Now they were at Celeste’s house. He sighed and turned off the ignition. Part of him preferred the idea of being in combat to what was to come. He and Celeste hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. He’d fled his responsibilities and shut her out, along with everyone else, and he was sure their relationship had been damaged. But he’d driven halfway across the country and it was time to front up to her.

He opened the door, climbed out of the car and locked it. As Elena fell in behind him he climbed the steps and knocked on the door. He wondered if Celeste was on the other side, sizing him up through the peephole and deciding whether to let him in. There was a roughly even chance of her opening the door armed with a handgun as there was of her not answering at all. The door opened. Turns out he was wrong.

“Good to see you, Jack.” Peter smiled.

Peter Weston had been Ernest McDowell’s assistant for a decade, prior to McDowell’s death. Now he was the Managing Director of EMCorp, appointed by Ernest’s daughter in her stead. The stresses of the new job looked to have aged Peter, but his smile was no less warm than Jack remembered. He’d expected him to be here, but it was still nice to see the other man, if only to have a witness present if Celeste came at him with a cleaver.

“Hi Peter.” He held out his arms and gave Peter a quick hug. “Been a rough time trying to get here. Thanks for coming.”

“Not a problem.” Peter’s eyes twinkled in the streetlight. “I thought the reporting from Indianapolis might be your handiwork.”

“You saw that?” Jack winked, but didn’t confirm anything.

“We still have some connection to the outside world, you know.”

Jack bit the bullet. “Celeste around?”

Peter’s features hardened. “She’s inside.”

“Okay.” Jack started to walk inside, past Peter, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Take it easy, Jack.” Peter’s voice was heavy with warning. “She’s still upset at you.”

“I know. Give me five?”

“Sure.” Peter nodded. “I’ll keep your friend company.”

“Thanks.”

He walked down the hall until he reached the open-plan kitchen and living room at the back of the house. He pulled up short when he saw her sitting on the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand and lit only by a lamp. As she stared at him, a wave of emotions hit him: guilt, fear, lust. He hadn’t seen her in a long time – this meeting would determine if he got to see her much into the future. Suddenly he realized that he wanted that very much.

“Nice of you to drop in.” Her British accent somehow made her sound all the more icy.

“Hi.” He walked across the room and moved to sit next to her on the sofa.

She held up a hand, her face a picture of darkness. “You don’t get to sit.”

He nodded and backed off, feeling awkward. He could feel the waves of pain and anger radiating off her. He couldn’t blame her. While he’d hoped that once they were together in the same place again things wouldn’t be so bad between them, it looked like a false hope. It was looking unlikely that she’d speak to him, let alone forgive him. He needed to have another shot at explaining the reasons for his absence, though it might not satisfy her.

“I’m sorry, Celeste.” He held his hands out, palms facing upward. “No reservations.”

She stood, her wine glass still in her hand. He waited and watched as she came closer, then in one quick flick of her wrist sprayed him with the remnants of her drink. He felt the moisture on his face but resisted the urge to reach up and wipe it off. She tossed the glass onto the floor, smashing it on the tiles, then sat back down again. He stood, unmoving, and waited for whatever happened next.

“Now you can explain.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “You’ve got one chance.”

He felt the wine slowly drip from his face, but he ignored it. “I needed to heal, Celeste. After we stopped the Foundation and I won the Pulitzer, things—”

She scoffed. “Things started to happen between us. Things you were a willing participant in, Jack. Then, just as I was starting to have feelings for you, you ran.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “I don’t have an answer, not one to fix my mistake or satisfy you. I thought I could heal and stay in New York, but I was wrong. It was too much.”

She continued to stare up at him, and he thought he could see a tear in her eye. “You don’t think I had healing to do? I was okay being friends but you pressed for more.”

“I know.”

“Then you ran.”

“I know.”

She curled her legs underneath her and hugged her knees. “You know what hurt most?”

He braced himself. “Go on.”

“After all the shit we went through, you didn’t just say ‘let’s cool it’ and go to Florida. You jumped on a flight and crossed the globe. I didn’t think I’d ever see you alive again.” She closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again. “You cultivated feelings in me, then ran as far away as you could once we started to grow close.”

“I know.” Jack put his hands in his pocket. “I’m sorry. There’s no justification. I felt something for you that I wasn’t ready for, so I ran.”

He watched as she sized him up. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at him for several long moments. He’d known for months that when this moment came it would be a close call. He could have done more, had more phone conversations with her, but he’d been an idiot. Seeing her in front of him, he was now certain that he wanted her in his life. He just hoped he hadn’t screwed it up.

He stepped forward a little. “I want to give this a try, if you’ll let me. But I understand the damage I’ve caused. The crime is mine, the verdict is yours.”

“I need to think.” She let out a long sigh. “Go and get Peter.”

He nodded, stood and went to the front of the house, where Peter and Elena were making small talk. By the time he returned, Celeste had turned some lights on and he could see the kitchen table was already covered with platters of food. When Elena entered the larger room, Jack felt the temperature drop as Celeste summed her up. He wondered if Celeste was getting the wrong message from Elena’s presence, so soon after he’d apologized.

For her part, Elena was standing awkwardly in the entrance to the living area, as if some invisible force had stopped her in her tracks. He’d never seen her looking like she lacked confidence, but on the other hand, their time together had been brief. You could never tell how someone would react to being the outsider in a social situation, especially when the insiders had shared as much as Jack, Celeste and Peter had. He had to do something.

Jack waved Elena over. “Celeste? I want you to meet Elena Winston.”

Elena lifted a hand up and offered a weak smile. “Hi.”

“Nice to meet you.” Celeste’s voice remained cold. “Come in. Eat if you want.”

They sat around the dining table. Peter did his best to lighten the mood as the two women remained reserved. Jack and Peter chatted about the crackdown, the terrorist attacks, the FEMA atrocities and gossip they’d heard about the situation in other places. Jack shared his and Elena’s experience in Indianapolis and when it was their turn, Peter and Celeste shared insight into what was happening on the east coast, including the extent and limits of FEMA control. Though both Peter and Celeste were still at EMCorp, they were horribly constrained in what could be reported. Jack sensed frustration, but saw no obvious sign that they’d be in a hurry to join the resistance.

Finally, he decided it was time. “Ah, so guys? Elena is one of the leaders of Guerrilla Radio. I’m working with her to get word of FEMA overreach out.”

Elena gave a small laugh, but there was silence from the others. He wondered if he’d gotten it wrong, as Peter’s eyes widened and Celeste crossed her arms.

Finally, Peter broke the silence. “Why are you involved, Jack?”

“I wasn’t at first. I wanted nothing to do with it.”

“What happened?” Peter seemed genuinely interested. “What changed?”

“A friend I owe everything to asked for my help. Elena helped me to help him, and it meant I had to get out of Chicago. We were doing the filming in Indianapolis.”

“Indianapolis.” Celeste cut in, her voice sharp.

“Yes.” He stared straight at her. “Indianapolis.”

“She nearly got you killed, Jack.” She stared back.

“I did a pretty good job of that myself.” He shrugged. “I was actually hoping you guys might be willing to help us out in New York.”

Celeste shook her head and stood, bringing the conversation to an abrupt close. She picked up her wine glass and walked to the back door. She slid it open, stepped outside then closed it again. Jack could see her outline, staring out into the night. Every inch of him ached to join her and to comfort her, but there was larger business to complete. Or so he thought.

Peter cleared his throat. “I think we’re all tired. A few of us in particular.”

Jack smiled. “Sorry, Peter. It’s good to see you, anyway.”

“Jack, I’m not opposed to helping you. I actually respect what you’re trying to do. But you need to get your house in order with Celeste before anything else.”

“I know.”

“And another thing.” Peter frowned. “I want Jo Tokaloka left out of this, whether or not Celeste and I end up helping. His heart won’t stand up to it.”

Jack nodded. “Okay.”

Peter stood. “Why don’t I show you to one of the guest bedrooms, Elena?”

“I don’t know.” Elena looked unsure. “She doesn’t seem thrilled that I’m here.”

“Good thing I pay her salary.” Peter patted Elena on the shoulder.

“Go on.” Jack smiled at Elena, trying to reassure her. “It’ll be fine.”

Elena nodded, but Jack could see the doubt on her face. She stood and followed Peter without further word, leaving Jack sitting at the table with his thoughts. He sipped his own wine, ate a few biscuits and delayed the inevitable until, eventually, he stood. He walked to the back door, slid it open and stepped outside. He closed the door and stood just behind Celeste. She was sobbing quietly.

“It wasn’t so long ago you were standing behind me on the
George Washington
when I was upset.” His voice was barely a whisper. “A lot has changed.”

“You didn’t even know about Jo’s heart attack! I wanted to tell you, but Peter wouldn’t let me. You disappeared.” Celeste turned to face him, tears streaming down her face. “You were a fucking coward. Others needed you and you weren’t here. That’s not Jack Emery. Not the Jack Emery I know, anyway!”

Her words felt like a jab to his stomach. “I’m sorry. I let you down.”

She let out a long sigh. “It’s a long way back for you.”

“I know.”

“And I may not be able to forgive you.”

“Fair enough.”

Her features lightened for the first time. “But I think I’d like to try.”

Jack enjoyed the rhythm. He lay on his back with his hands behind his head, taking in the view with hunger. Celeste’s features looked wonderful in the lamplight, moving slowly back and forth as she ran both hands through her mess of shoulder-length red hair. She offered a cautious smile, which he returned, then continued to allow his gaze to devour her entire body.

They’d talked into the early hours of the morning, agreeing that they still had feelings for each other but the potential for hurt was enormous. Celeste had made no promises, but had asked to go to bed together. She’d told him that, after a delay of over a year, she wanted to be with him, to be held by him. They’d slept like that, but woken up to more.

She writhed on top of him and her breathing became heavier. He felt his own pace quicken and a soft moan escaped from each of them. He felt his hunger turn to desperation and they pressed closer together, until his abdominals tightened. He reached out and gripped her tightly. A second later her quiet, brief moans became more sustained and he had to put his hand over her mouth.

He smiled up at her. “The others might hear.”

Her eyes narrowed as she continued to press down onto him. She kissed his palm, then sucked one of his fingers and bit it playfully. Slowly her pleasure seemed to subside and he rolled sideways with her, into an easy embrace. She snuggled in close and they said nothing for several minutes, as their breathing returned to normal.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jack.” Her voice was a mix of satisfaction and sleepiness. “Don’t make me regret this.”

He kissed her head and pulled her closer. He started to doze as she roamed his body, stopping occasionally on his scars, examining them then moving on. He knew that her scars weren’t visible, and his knowledge of what had happened to her in China – her rape – had made him hesitant. He’d let her take the lead and the result had been spectacular.

“So, what do you need from us out here, Jack?” Celeste’s voice was thick with sleep when they stirred, hours later.

“What do you mean?”

“Guerrilla Radio.” She pulled away from him and put her head on the pillow, her eyes boring into him. “I want to help. What do you need?”

He thought for a moment, trying to clear his mind from the hazy mix of sex and sleep. “The failure in Indianapolis showed us a few things. We need to develop a proper national network before we let it loose. Once that’s done properly we can discuss the growth of the resistance more broadly.”

Celeste smiled. “I can start to sound out some EMCorp colleagues. I’m sure there are some who’ll help. Peter, for starters.”

“Yeah, I spoke to him briefly last night. He’s on board.”

An enormous bang from the other end of the house interrupted their conversation. Celeste immediately sat bolt upright. “What was that?”

Jack remained still, listening. He wondered if Elena had done something to cause the noise, but couldn’t immediately think what. But when he heard a second bang and the sound of cracking timber, he had a fair idea what it was. He rushed out of bed and started to rummage around for his clothing, which was scattered around on the floor.

“What’s going on?” Celeste’s voice was an higher than usual.

“Trouble.”

“What are you doing?” She hugged the covers.

“Getting dressed.” He smiled sadly as he pulled on his underwear. “You should too.”

She didn’t get the chance and he only had his jeans half on when the shouts started. “
NYPD! All occupants need to stay where they are.
”

The door to the bedroom was kicked in a second later and four officers dressed in Kevlar vests poured through, pointing pistols at the two of them. One of them flicked a switch and the quiet solitude of dawn was broken. Jack blinked a few times to help his eyes adjust to the light as Celeste pulled the covers higher. Jack raised his arms as he thought about Elena, who’d been sleeping at the front of the house. They must have scooped her up.

“Get down. Get down now!” An officer shouted as he moved around the bed, keeping the pistol trained on Jack. “On the floor.”

Jack complied. He immediately raised his hands and dropped to his knees. “No need to wave the guns around, fellas.”

“Keep your mouth shut.” The officer pulled Jack’s hands together roughly behind his back and cuffed them. “Up.”

Jack started to stand, helped by the officer. Another officer had his pistol trained on Jack while the final two were focused on Celeste. He’d been arrested before – once in Australia for taking a drunken swing at someone and a few times overseas for reporting on various stories – but he’d never been assaulted by storm troopers in such a way. He thought this might be Celeste’s first experience with police, though not with the authorities.

“Take it easy, guys.” He looked down at Celeste, who was cowering in fear, and he thought back to their experiences in China. “This doesn’t need to happen like this.”

The officers ignored him and one of them stepped toward the bed and addressed Celeste. “I need you to show me your hands, miss, then I’m going to pull back the covers and you’re going to climb out of the bed and get dressed. It’s important that you make no sudden movements.”

Jack started to protest, but was pulled back by the officer holding him. The one with the pistol trained on him stepped forward an inch. “You need to calm down.”

He took a breath to compose himself. “You’re here for me, fellas. This is stupid.”

“Calm down.”

Jack watched as Celeste pulled her hands out over the covers, then placed them down slowly. She sobbed. “I’m naked under here, guys, can I have a minute?”

“Negative. I’m going to pull back the covers and you’re going to climb out of the bed.” The officer repeated himself. “Remember, no sudden movements.”

She nodded and bit her lip as the officer held his pistol in one hand and ripped the covers off the bed with the other. Jack felt the anger well inside of him as he watched Celeste start to sob harder. She kept her hands exactly where they’d been, not even daring to cover up, though she did press her legs together. His face burned red at her humiliation, but any protest he made would just make things worse. He kept his mouth shut.

“Okay, get up.” The officer reached onto the floor and tossed her a blouse. He then spoke into the radio that was mounted on his shoulder. “All clear. Suspect located and detained.”

Jack found his voice again. “What now?”

“
Look, pal.
” The officer holding the pistol on him spoke. “
We’re not here for you, but if you don’t pipe down, you’re coming in too. Okay?
”

“Who are you here for, then?” Celeste, now dressed, turned to the officer. “Me?”

“You.”

To her credit, she sensed that further protest was pointless. “Okay.”

Jack had no such sense. “Come on. She’s a journalist, not a terrorist.”

The only officer who hadn’t spoken yet piped in. “I don’t care. One more word and you’ll be sitting next to her in the van.”

Jack started forward, causing the officer with the pistol on him to tense slightly. Celeste locked eyes with him and shook her head very slightly. She was clearly thinking that there was no point both of them being locked up. He rocked back on the balls of his feet and didn’t move any further as the officer relaxed and Celeste was led from the room. Only then did they uncuff him and leave.

***

“One
thousand
in Illinois alone?” Mariposa looked up from the report that Murray Devereaux had handed her.

Murray chewed on his gum. “Yeah, and they picked up some doozies. Everything from an eighteen-year-old to a ninety-three-year-old. Real threats to security.”

“Seems a bit ridiculous, doesn’t it?” She shook her head and placed the report on the table.

He shrugged and placed his coffee on top of the document, showing what he thought of its value. It was a hundred pages long, a dossier of every Guerrilla Radio sympathizer who’d been picked up across Illinois by a mix of police and State Guard. She knew the same action had taken place in other states as well, in an attempt by the administrator to clamp down on the activity of Guerrilla Radio and, in turn, stem the growth of the resistance.

She sighed. “Command tells me it’s to wrap up the Guerrilla Radio network that’s popped up, but it seems like a big show of force and an awful lot of people to detain.”

“Fuck command. They’ve screwed the pooch on this whole episode. Why attack the friends and family?” He snorted, his disdain for what had happened clear on his face. “That’s some Stasi-type shit right there. If you know who’s breaking the law, take them down, but as far as I can see these folks are innocent.”

She nodded and left it at that. He was right. Her new job gave her huge access to information she’d previously been denied and most of it disgusted her. It told her that they were no closer to stopping the attacks around the whole country, that the presence of Guerrilla Radio was growing, and that FEMA’s actions were getting increasingly desperate – and violent – to keep order. The detention of thousands of people was the latest attempt.

“I wonder what the story is in other states.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Classified.”

He rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

“Thanks, Murray.”

She was glad he took the hint. He picked up his coffee and left her office. She leaned back in her chair and looked at the ceiling. Every negative thought she’d had about FEMA and the path it was on came crashing back. She’d done her best to busy herself with work, trying to hide away her larger concerns, but even that dam was starting to crack and spew out negative thoughts. Her career. Her pay check. Her colleagues. Her safety. Her son. All were reasons to will away the ill-feeling she had about everything that was happening. But it wasn’t enough. With each draconian measure she signed off on, the further into the maw of evil she felt herself slipping.

Sooner or later, she knew that the Nuremberg defense wouldn’t hold up against her conscience. Doing something that she disagreed with because she was ordered to, even if she spoke out against it occasionally, was not acceptable. She was as culpable as the drone pilots firing on Indianapolis or the SWAT teams who’d kicked in doors and arrested thousands of innocent people around the country. She made her decision. She stood up, walked out of her office and toward the central meeting point where they held the staff briefings. She pressed the button that started the chime, then she waited in silence while the whole staff came together.

“Thanks, everyone.” She smiled, wanting to convey as normal an impression as possible. “We’re not doing a briefing, unless anyone has anything critical?”

She looked to each of the managers, who looked to their staff in turn. There were a few confused faces, but mostly a lot of shaking heads. Illinois was buttoned up pretty tight. Incidents like the arrests aside, there wasn’t much happening. Her team was doing a great job at what they’d been ordered to do, which broke her heart all the more. It was all wrong. She steeled herself for the path she was about to start down.

“Okay, given everything is under control, I’ve informed command that I’m sending you all home early for the day.” She smiled at the lie, and as faces around the room brightened she caught sight of Murray looking at her carefully. “It’s been a long time since any of you spent some real time with your families, so off you go.
”

“What about our work?” Murray spoke up, asking what everyone else was likely thinking.

She lied again. “
Area IV is going to take care of any non-essential overflow for the day and we’ll be doing the same for them next week. If anything comes up, you’ll be contacted. Enjoy yourselves.”

She smiled one last time then returned to her office. She left the door open and sat down, busying herself with paperwork as the staff cleared out quickly – it was as if they thought the bubble might burst or she might change her mind. She kept her head down and tried her best to ward off the doubts that were creeping in. The minute the last staff member walked out, there was no turning back.

She closed the manila folder that held the file she was reading and walked from her office. She needed to make sure everyone had left. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she saw Murray leaning against one of the cubicle partitions right outside her office, blowing bubbles with his gum. She punched him in the arm and he responded with a smile and another bubble.

“What’s the story?” His voice was firm. “Sending everyone home for a little R and R? Right after we discussed how much of a joke those arrests were?”

“It’s fine, Murray. Really. I just think we’re all spread a bit too thinly right now and I wanted to give everyone a break.” She wasn’t lying, technically. “You should go too.”

“Okay, I’ll walk out with you?” He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow when she didn’t move. “Didn’t think so. I want a piece of whatever you’re up to.”

She sighed. Now that she’d finally made a decision and put in place the first part of it, the last thing she wanted was to have an argument with Murray. He was her best friend at the office and she didn’t want him caught up in what she was about to do. Worse, if he wouldn’t budge, not only would he be implicated but she wouldn’t achieve what she had to either. He had to go.

“Murray, I want you to go home now. Please.” She turned back into her office, and nearly roared with frustration when he followed her.