Project Reunion (37 page)

Cam grinned and added, “Oh, and the quality of life goal. We’re cold and hungry and can’t afford squat. But we have this beautiful island. There’s all sorts of fun we can have for free.”

“I didn’t do it,” I said, shaking my head.

“You did,” Cam insisted. “Laundry. You can’t afford food, but at least your shorts don’t have to chafe.”

I laughed. “Alright, that much. But beyond underwear, the rest was all you. And Emmett found you food. And the Coast Guard gave you transport.”

Cam nodded. “No question. I’ve had incredible help, Ash.”

“Superb, Cameron,” Sean Cullen interjected. “I want to hear more about this satellite inventory. Do we all have this technique?”

Cam and Emmett grinned at the mulish expression on my face. “It’s OK, Dee,” Cam twitted me. “Think job security for your friend Reza. Not you.”

Cullen let the meeting devolve into fifteen minutes of fun with maps as a sort of mid-morning break. But then he dragged us back to business. “Now for our problem child. And Emmett, by that I’m referring to the Apple, not you. Your work has been miraculous, outstanding in every way. Yet our problem remains. Let’s start with Project Reunion status.”

That status report was easy. Emmett had been tracking completion of the migrant goals for four months now, and Project Reunion was drawing to a close. The original relocation goals were complete, Camp Yankee shutting down. The project was in extra innings at Camp Jersey and Camp Upstate to supply the bonus refugees that Penn had agreed to accept as part of the peace treaty. Emmett started out relaxed and practiced, and grew increasingly tense as he drew toward the shutdown phase.

“Let’s stop there a moment, Emmett,” said Cullen. “We’ve had some major positive surprises since the planning phase of this thing. Food – massive increase in our food budget from Penn and Wisconsin. Disease – Ebola died out. Targets – migrants increased by 35%. But the most intriguing was structural. You found viable communities in the Apple Core.”

“Viable?” quibbled Pete Hoffman. “Surviving. But not sustainable.”

Cullen frowned, but nodded slowly. “What’s our status in there now, Emmett?”

“Within the month, we’ll be down to five million people in the Apple zone, including Long Island. Nearly two million migrated out. About one million remain in the Apple Core. Food –”

“Hold off on that,” Cullen interrupted with a wave. He pointed to the whiteboard. “We need transportation. We need to reintegrate South Jersey and Long Island with food and power distribution. Unless South Jersey would rather join Virginia or Penn. Pete?”

“South Jersey wants to reunite with North Jersey,” Pete insisted. “You won’t get rid of us that easy, Sean.”

Cullen smiled wryly. “Not trying to get rid of anybody, Pete. But you see my point. I don’t see any way around reintegrating the Apple Core. It’s a choke point. We could bypass it to the west. Reintegrate the Jersey corridor next to Penn. But that still leaves Long Island stranded.”

Only then did I catch on that Cullen was revisiting the case for leaving the Apple to its own fate. Emmett to my left looked sad. Cam to my right looked mutinous. Before he could mix in, I said, “It leaves five million
people
stranded.”

Pete Hoffman sighed. “It was always the weak part of the Project Reunion plan. Once we’d given all the help we could give, and it still wasn’t enough, then what? Now we have a much smaller intractable problem, and several million people better off.”

“They bought the rest of New York–New Jersey their lives,” said Emmett softly. “You were in no shape to withstand Penn.”

Pete nodded slowly. “That part was sheer genius, Emmett.”

“Agreed,” said Cullen. “Emmett’s pulled some rabbits out of his hat. But I suspect he’s out of rabbits. And what’s left… Emmett, I hope I’m not out of line to share this with Tony. That you helped to write the Resco manual? The rest of us already knew that.”

Emmett shrugged a fair-enough. He nodded to Tony Nasser of Buffalo, who was duly impressed.

“Me, too,” said Cam. That raised three pairs of eyebrows, but not, I noted, Sean Cullen’s. I wondered who told Cullen. “I wrote the tech base chapters. Helped Emmett test the militia chapters.”

“And you, Emmett?” Cullen prodded.

“Subsistence agriculture,” admitted Emmett. “And testing the IEDs and car bombs.” He didn’t look enthused. After being officers in the Middle East for years, I imagine it rankled to unleash their nemesis IEDs – improvised explosive devices – in the U.S.

Cam defended, “A car bomb does wonders for morale when you’re outnumbered.”

Cullen looked amused. “My point, gentlemen, was that neither of you focused on cities. For cities above half a million, the Resco manual seems to suggest we not even try.”

Cam winced. Emmett murmured, “I wanted to save Kansas City. I got outvoted.”

I squeezed his hand under the table, and said quietly, “New York isn’t Kansas City, Emmett. Different order of magnitude. Literally.”

“Not in population. Not anymore,” argued Emmett.

Cullen gazed thoughtfully at Cam and Emmett. “Alright. Emmett seems to think there’s some hope for applying the Resco model to New York City. What do you have so far, Emmett?”

And Emmett brought up his maps, his plans to date. Getting the water mains and sanitation back on line, and enough power to run those. About 50 organized communities in 6 boroughs, including the Jersey City–Hoboken pseudo-borough. The floodplains plan. His chosen six level 5 model communities. Ferry services linking them. Sketched in food distribution.

He sighed. “That’s as far as I got.”

“Your confidence level doesn’t seem high, Emmett,” Ash observed gently.

“No,” Emmett agreed. “Oh, and some key personnel resources. Adam Lacey, the leader of the ferry engineering team, quit the Coast Guard. He’s interviewing engineers for me, and sketching out the mechanical plans. All of the PR camp commandants want to become Rescos. The guy on Camp Jersey asked for Jersey-borough. Camp Upstate wants the Bronx. Camp Yankee hopes to grow inward from Port Chester toward the Apple Core. Camp Suffolk wants a slice of Long Island, eventually. A lot of people want to continue as assistants in the Apple Core.”

Ash inquired, “Emmett, do you think those people want the mission? Or do they want to stick with you? Stay on a winning team, sort of thing.”

Emmett swallowed uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m letting them down.”

Pete Hoffman shrugged. “I’m as unconvinced as Emmett with this plan. But I couldn’t do any better.”

“Oh, I think these plans aren’t half-bad,” said Tony Nasser of Buffalo. “Emmett, if you don’t want to execute, that’s fine. I saw your role as moving these New Yorkers into new lives outside the city. Not taking on the city itself. You’ve got a hell of a gift for planning.”

“It’s a good start,” Cam agreed. “But we need transport. The Long Island railroad back up and running. Metro North lines to Connecticut and upstate. New Jersey Transit. And Emmett, I’d prefer you farming out on Long Island, with me. You don’t belong in the concrete canyons. Long Island has a lot more people than the city now. Lot of smaller cities, and big agricultural potential. I’m spread too thin.”

Sean Cullen stared pointedly at Ash Margolis.

Ash nodded slowly. “Yeah. Emmett, no way I’d take the Apple Core from you, if you want it. But I’m from Manhattan. That’s my city. My second can handle Poughkeepsie.”

Sean knocked on the table. “Let’s stop there for lunch. I need to leave now, but I’ll meet you for dinner. I’m told that today is Dee and Emmett’s one year anniversary, from the day they met.” He smiled at me warmly. “My aide will upgrade our dinner plans accordingly. So, this afternoon. I’d like you to jointly brainstorm a plan for the whole Apple Zone.
Who,
is not the issue.
What,
is the issue. What do you jointly recommend we do.

“Emmett,” Cullen continued, “you have dibs on the Apple Core. But for this afternoon, I suggest you let go and plan for what
someone
needs to do. That might help loosen up your thinking.” He smiled and dismissed us for lunch.

I didn’t budge, as Emmett’s colleagues filed out. Emmett rose to leave, but sank slowly back to his seat and raised an eyebrow at me. Tony Nasser shot back a smile and closed the door to give us privacy.

“Adam left the Coast Guard?” I opened with. It seemed more neutral than my real point.

“Uh-huh,” Emmett breathed. “Dee, we can gossip later.”

“Pick Long Island, Emmett,” I said softly. “Please? We could live together there.”

He swiveled his chair to face mine and took both my hands, hunched over, arms on his knees. He didn’t meet my eyes. “Darlin’,” he said softly. “The biggest problem here is not that I hate New York, or that I’m scared of the job. It’s big. I can handle big. The problem is you.”

“Us?” I suggested hopefully. “Us being together.”

He met my eye. “You’re married to your land in Totoket, Dee. Not me. I’m a soldier. My work isn’t in nice peaceful places.” He dropped his eyes and let go my hands. “You can follow me into hell-holes. Or we can have a long-distance relationship most of the time.” He swallowed painfully. “Darlin’, I respect you, and your work. But you’ve got to respect mine.”

He stood and traced my face with a finger. “I do love you, darlin’. This afternoon… Let me work with the guys.”

Chapter 29

Interesting fact: Alaska and Minnesota officially became Canadian provinces the same week.

“Emmett MacLaren! Dee Baker!” the restaurant hostess gushed. “It’s such an honor to meet you!”

Emmett blinked uneasily, and attempted a smile. I was, if not used to it, at least slightly broken in. The other ‘wives’ and I had been fending off the celebrity treatment all afternoon. Dwayne caught less of it than I did, while we wandered the market day crowds in Greenwich. But even he gave a half dozen autographs. I lost count of how many people begged for mine. I had time to work out a stock response.

“Thank you so much for your support of Project Reunion,” I told the hostess, with my best gracious smile. I towed Emmett into the restaurant to give the hostess space to gush over Cam and Dwayne, and General Cullen in turn.

Emmett and I were famous. Odd how that didn’t come up much in our daily lives.

“Guess we don’t get out much,” Emmett commented, glancing back over his shoulder at the hostess.

“You don’t get that from the troops in the Apple?” I asked.

“Well, maybe,” he admitted. “Civilians are new. Pops! Carlos! DJ!” Emmett broke out in a huge grin in surprise.

Apparently Cullen’s aide had contacted the local Connecticut Resco, Major Papadopoulos, while seeking a dinner venue for our one-year anniversary bash. Pops had taken this as an invitation to join the party, and brought a couple friends along. Emmett and Cam were promptly swallowed into a mini Connecticut Resco flock reunion.

Even I got a warm hug from Mora. “Congratulations on a year’s partnership with Emmett, Dee. Hell of a ride! Great thing for all of us that you two teamed up.”

Emmett grabbed Mora in a hug next. “Thank you for everything, Carlos. I’m so glad you’re here! You met Carlos that day, too,” he reminded me. “Carlos was the one who thought saving Amenac had possibilities. I thought you were trouble.”

I laughed. “You were both right.”

“Colonel Mora!” General Cullen butted in jovially. “Good to see you again! No poaching, I hope. Not fair to use our little celebration to lure your Rescos back to New England.”

“All is fair in love and war, sir,” Carlos intoned piously. “Isn’t it, Dee?”

Before sitting to the fabulous surf and turf dinner, Emmett managed to eddy me out for a quiet moment together. “Darlin’, I’m sorry,” he murmured in my ear. “I just said we met a year ago today. Not that it was our anniversary. I know it was your anniversary with Zack. Not me.”

I blinked back tears and held him tight. “Thank you. Now maybe I won’t have to say it and ruin the party.” I thought I’d been hiding my feelings better than that, holding up a masquerade of glowing pride in our one year anniversary. It helped, to have Emmett acknowledge Zack tonight.

“Uh-huh,” he crooned, hugging me tight. “Carlos knows, too. Our partnership did begin that night. Just not how they think. I love you, darlin’.”

It was enough. I wiped my eyes. No one thought anything of my crying, except excess emotion on this happy occasion. I got into the spirit of it and had a grand time. Despite the details being skewed, it was true, after all. We were partners, and we made a difference in the world. I especially enjoyed the way Emmett grabbed my hand for emotional support after each round of the staff coming out to beg his autograph.

Yeah, being famous would take some getting used to.

-o-

We didn’t pretend to a romantic anniversary night afterward. Despite killing numerous bottles of fine New York wine, lots of laughter and a couple dances, Emmett and the other New York–New Jersey Rescos went back to work after dinner. I returned to face our hotel room alone.