State of Emergency: Jack Emery 2 (2 page)

“At the same time I can ramp up the support that FEMA is providing. All it will take to get this up and running quickly is a budget allocation.” Richard sat back in his chair and looked at Morris. “That will take me to the limit of what FEMA is able to do, at least without the declaration of a state of emergency.”

Morris sighed, removed her glasses and closed her eyes. While he knew she was a strong believer in civil liberties and loathed any discussion of the state taking more of a role in daily life – like deploying troops into cities – she also must know that doing nothing was not an option. Personally, Richard thought the choice was obvious – cut down on freedoms, ramp up surveillance, saturate the streets with assets and it just might be possible to win this thing. He could understand her hesitation, however. This was one of the largest decisions of her young administration so far and she was clearly fighting an internal struggle over it. She massaged her temples, looking every bit as old as her fifty-eight years. Finally, she opened her eyes again and ran a hand through her greying hair.

“Richard, make it happen. Dial it up as high as you can go without that declaration. Get the State Guard protecting our most important facilities and increase the relief FEMA is providing across the country.” She exhaled heavily. “But I want FEMA talking to the rest of the administration. Protect us and help our people.”

“Not a problem, Madam President.” 
Richard nodded and sat back with a small smile. He’d won the hand, but in Washington things could go backward as quickly as they went forward. He knew when to gamble and when to take his winnings. He’d been trying for months to get FEMA dialed in to the main game as a legitimate player rather than just a mop-up agency at the call of others. He’d succeeded, now he kept quiet.

Morris stared down the table at the rest of the council. “Let me make this clear, ladies and gentlemen. While Richard beefs up our defense, I want the rest of you on offense. We have the most elaborate national security apparatus on the planet. I’d like to see some of it put to use. Find these bastards.”

***

The sound of the rotors slicing through the air was One’s constant companion. Her team sat in silence as they edged closer to their target. The briefing, walk through and gear check had all been done on the ground and each member of the team knew their role, except for Daneshgahi. The Iranian computer scientist sat in his seat with his head downcast, with Two and Three seated on either side of him captive. It was all quite relaxed.

One looked down at her watch: 2159 hours. Right on time, the helicopter started to descend. She waved her hand at the rest of the team and held up one finger. The other five members of the team gave a thumbs-up in return. With thirty seconds to go, she lowered her night-vision goggles over her eyes and stood. The others joined her, Two and Three hauling Daneshgahi to his feet. The second her watch ticked over to 2200 hours, the helicopter touched down with a light thud.

She slid the door open and jumped the short distance from the helicopter to the ground. She took a deep breath. The cool evening air was both a shock and a thrill. It was her first time in Nevada and her first visit to the Hoover Dam. Once her team had finished disembarking she slid the door shut, raised her carbine and started to move along the causeway. Once they were clear of the helicopter it lifted off again, to take up station overhead and act as their eyes in the sky.

“This is Big Bird.” The team was about halfway between the landing zone and their target when the helicopter reported in. “Three armed sighted targets ahead of you.”

“Confirmed.” One crouched and the rest of the team did the same. She kept her eyes peeled, but couldn’t see the threat. “Move up.”

She moved forward slowly with the others, leaving Three and Five to guard Daneshgahi. Losing the Iranian was not an option. Though she couldn’t see any targets yet, they must be near the concrete structure that housed the entrance to the control room. Whoever was guarding the dam had hastily constructed some basic cover and fortifications. A boom broke the silence of the night – some sort of rifle.

“Three targets visible.” Six’s voice came over the network. He was slightly ahead of her.

“Get rid of them.” One crouched and raised her carbine, but she didn’t have a clear shot.

More shots roared from the other end of the causeway. Their foes weren’t very good, shooting from extreme range and with no real accuracy. It was possible they didn’t have night-vision gear and were shooting in hope, but she couldn’t bank on that. She started to move forward, but was forced to drop low again when more fierce gunfire erupted. She heard a grunt in her earpiece.

“I’m hit.” Six sounded like he was in pain. “My hand. Not too bad though.”

She cursed under her breath. “Confirmed.”

She heard a whoosh as Four – the squad’s grenadier – fired the underslung grenade launcher on his carbine. A large explosion lit up the night and One heard a roar as the grenade struck home. Hardly stealthy, but effective. Flames licked at the cover that dam security was using and one of the guards staggered forward. She raised her carbine and fired a burst at the exposed guard. He dropped.

She hadn’t expected much resistance and it was over and done with now. When nobody reported further hostiles, she started forward. “Move up.”

They reached the large steel door that separated them from the command center, paying little attention to the three bodies scattered among the crates they’d used as cover. She knocked on the door and whistled softly to herself. The door was too thick to blow up and its electronics had recently been upgraded to make it independent from any network. Luckily her employer had provided the answer.

“Three, Five, move up with Daneshgahi.” She turned to Four. “Do it.”

Four nodded. He let his weapon hang by its strap and dug into a pocket on his combat vest. One smiled as he held the electronic access card to the reader until it beeped, flashed green and unlocked the door with a clunk. She’d half expected the card to fail, foiling their entire operation, but it turned out her employer could be trusted. Some dam employee somewhere would soon be very rich.

Four swung the heavy door open with a grunt and led the way inside with Two. One waited as Three and Five moved up with the scientist and followed the lead pair inside. She waited a few moments until she was satisfied things outside were under control, then followed with her carbine raised. She left the wounded Six on guard outside. He was hurt, but could hold their rear if any trouble came along.

They moved quickly through the corridor, alert for any threats. In a few moments they reached the expansive control room, which had a bank of computer terminals, large monitors and status boards on the walls. The capacity and flow of the Hoover Dam were managed from here, along with the key safety systems and contact with the outside world. One lowered her carbine as the team checked for any threats.

Five examined the terminals. “The systems are in lockdown.”

Two’s spoke up from across the room. “I’ve got a pair of civilians.”

One walked to where Two was standing over a pair of workers, cowering under a terminal. She crouched. “You have five seconds to override the lockdown.”

“Please, just leave us alone.” A young woman shrank back further. “We just look after the systems in the evenings. I don’t know how to do very much.”

One stood, raised her carbine and fired a single silenced round into the woman’s skull. A spray of blood escaped from the woman’s head and she slumped to the ground as the shell casing pinged off the floor tiles. One believed her – she was just a console operator, unable to help the team out of their predicament. She turned to the older man, whom she had a hunch knew more than his dead companion. She pointed at him.

The man nodded and One stepped back as he crawled out from under the terminal. Without speaking, he took his seat and started to type. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind as a password command box appeared on the screen. One held her carbine to the back of his head as he typed the command in slowly, then hit Enter. The password box disappeared and the screen flashed red with a warning that an alarm had been triggered.

“How disappointing.” She sighed and pulled the trigger.

As his body dropped to the floor, One let her carbine fall to her side. A quick glance at the terminals told her all she needed to know. The facility control room had now gone from being locked to completely inert – even if a member of staff wanted to unlock the systems, they’d be unable to. She hated heroes. With a sigh, she approached Daneshgahi and lifted his chin with her index finger.

“I can deal with the override, so long as you have the equipment I asked for.” His voice had a tremor and his eyes kept flicking to the dead man. “Just promise I’ll live.”

She smiled and held out a small kit bag that had been on her combat vest. “You deliver on your promise and I’ll deliver on mine.”

He nodded frantically and snatched the bag from her hand. One was alert but curious as he opened it, drew out a small device and plugged it into a USB port. Daneshgahi’s hands danced across the keyboard, command prompts and lines of code flashing on the screen at dizzying speed. She didn’t understand it, but she didn’t have to. Her employer had assured her that Daneshgahi had the skills to do what was needed.

After less than a minute, he stepped back from the terminal and smiled at her. “The lockdown is no longer in effect. The control panel is back to normal.”

One looked at Three, who nodded as he held a carbine to Daneshgahi’s side and whispered into his ear. Daneshgahi’s eyes went wide and a deep look of worry crossed his furrowed brow. Finally, Daneshgahi looked down at the console, hit a few keys, turned to her and nodded. She stepped up to the terminal, where a box on the screen was asking for confirmation of the command.

“Everyone ready?” She looked at her team and saw nods in return. She hit the Enter key. Klaxons started to wail and lights flashed red. “It’s time to go.”

Daneshgahi looked as if he’d burst into tears at any moment. “I’ve done what you wanted. Please, I want to go home.”

She ignored Daneshgahi and spoke into her headset. “Big Bird, we need extraction. Two minutes.”

“Confirmed.” The helicopter pilot’s voice was calm. “No sign of further hostiles, but there’s some radio noise coming out of Nellis Air Force Base. Suggest you hustle.”

She jerked her head toward the door. Daneshgahi started to move and she followed him and the other four members of her team toward the main door and out into the cool night air. She looked over the side of the dam, and though she couldn’t see the water in the darkness, she could hear it. As they waited for their ride, Daneshgahi moved a few steps closer to her, a look of frightened conviction on his face.

Four raised his carbine. “Back off, buddy.”

The Iranian didn’t buckle as he ignored Four and addressed One. “I gave you access. I’ve done what you wanted. I want to go back to Boston. You promised.”

She smiled at Daneshgahi and nodded once. Without a second’s delay, Three and Five grabbed him from behind. As they manhandled him closer to the edge, One followed. His eyes were frantic and kept flicking back and forth amongst the team as he fought to free himself from their grasp. She casually drew her pistol and placed it against his skull. His eyes widened as she pressed down with some force.

Daneshgahi became a dead weight in the arms of her men as he started to wail. “Please, I gave you what you wanted. You can’t. You promised.”

“You’ve been a great help, for whatever that’s worth.” She squeezed the trigger.

Jack looked out over the serene water contained by the Hoover Dam as he sipped his coffee. He found it difficult to comprehend the devastation it had caused just a day earlier. Though the dam wall was physically intact, the terrorists had opened a pair of spillways, freeing an enormous amount of water. Half-a-dozen large towns downstream had been flooded and thousands were missing, presumed dead.

Jack ran a hand through his hair and resumed his walk along the causeway. “They did a job on this place.”

“It was surgical.” Josefa frowned. “If they can pull an attack like this off, there’s really not a safe location in the entire country.”

Jack shrugged but said nothing as they neared the operations center. There was a score of maintenance staff on the causeway, repairing damage caused by the gunfight. Though they could do little to help the towns flooded and lives ruined downstream, they were doing a fair job of hosing away the blood. Milling around, far less busy, were some Nevada state troopers, police and some security contractors.

Josefa snorted. “Upping the security seems a bit pointless.”

Jack laughed. “Like waiting until after the shot clock has expired before shooting.”

They had already passed through a security cordon at the entrance to the dam, but there was another checkpoint near the entrance to the operations center. Jack was glad that, at times like this, he had friends in high places. Given he’d very publicly assisted US authorities to foil the Foundation for a New America, he was able to access areas that would be denied to others. It was time to make use of it. 

He gave his widest smile and held up his press pass as he approached the two guards standing outside the operations center. “Hey, guys.”

The security guards looked at each other and then one of them scrutinized the pass. “You’ve got no business inside.”

Jack sighed. “Bill McGhinnist, Director, Federal Bureau of Investigation, would have something to say about that. Should we give him a call?”

“I don’t care if you’ve got the King of England on speed dial, pal.” The guard didn’t seem impressed as he tapped the clipboard. “No name, no entry.”

Jack was about to point out there was no male monarch currently straddling the British throne, but he saved his breath. Another man approached them, dressed in chinos and a polo shirt that bore the logo of the US Bureau of Reclamation. He had the look of someone deeply troubled, a guy pushed into the deep end and struggling not to drown – Jack knew a source when he saw one. He stepped forward.

“Good morning, sir. I’m Jack Emery.” He flashed his pass. “I’ve been given permission to cover the story of the dam attack. This is Josefa Tokaloka, my… assistant.”

“Eric Waterford.” The other man smiled weakly and jerked a thumb toward the guards. “Don’t mind these gentlemen. You’re not on their list, but you are now.”

“Thanks.” Jack smiled at the guards. One of them glowered, as if resenting the challenge to his unassailable authority.

Jack snorted and followed Waterford and Jo inside. Though there were signs of conflict outside, there was no apparent damage to the inside of the facility. They walked in silence down a short corridor and into a cavernous room dominated by a few rows of computer terminals and wall-mounted screens. It was pretty clear that this room had been the focus of the attack. The scene of a mass murder.

“We’re here.” Waterford turned and held his arm out, showcasing the computer terminals. “This is what lives were lost for. This is where your story is, Mr Emery.”

Jack took a few more steps into the room. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“They hacked in and compromised the spill gates.” Waterford looked close to tears as he pointed at a terminal. “A lot of water rushed out of the dam very quickly.”

Jack paused, then joined Waterford and put a hand on his back. It was time to change tack. “Why are you talking to us, Mr Waterford? Why give me the story?”

“I know who you are and what you did for this country. You’ll call it fair.” Waterford shrugged. “Plus, I owe it to the people who died here. I’m lucky to be alive myself.”

“You saw the attacks? As in, eyeballs on what they were doing?” Jack was excited by the thought of an eyewitness account. 

“No.” Waterford cast his eyes downward. “But I heard it. There’s a supply cupboard in the hallway. I hid in there once I heard the gunfire.”

Jack nodded. Waterford’s mess of emotions was clearer now. “There’s no story here. You’re not giving me anything CNN doesn’t have. I need something exclusive.”

Waterford gave a sad-looking smile. “I can do you one better. They cut our security camera feeds, but we’ve got a hard-wired network. We caught it on tape.”

Jo whistled. “Can we see it?”

Waterford nodded and walked over to a cabinet against one of the walls. He chose a key on his oversized key ring and unlocked it. Inside the cabinet there was a small monitor. Jack watched with fierce curiosity as Waterford’s hands danced across the keys and the wall-mounted monitors came to life with some dark but decent footage. He could barely contain his excitement at the size of this scoop.

“You got it. The whole thing.” Jack couldn’t believe such an elite team could be so careless.

The video showed six figures wearing balaclavas, weapons raised and alert as they led a seventh man – Daneshgahi – across the causeway. Before long, they’d paused and were exchanging fire with the security team. Jack watched in awe as they met the attack with cool professionalism.

Waterford pressed a key. The vision switched to above the external door, where three bodies were sprawled like dolls discarded by a raging toddler. Jack winced. The attackers were at the door and managed to unlock it easily. Five of them moved inside with Daneshgahi while a single figure remained outside.

“Wait a minute.” Jack’s eyes widened and he looked at Waterford in confusion. “How the hell did they get in so easily?”

“An inside man.” Waterford shrugged. “I don’t know who, or why, but it’s the only way they could get through that door so quickly.”

“Okay.” Jack nodded. “I need these tapes and I need to get back to Chicago. 
This is going to explode.”

***

Callum Watkins crouched low as he moved through the foliage, careful not to step on any dried twigs or knock his rifle against a tree or sapling. He held up a gloved hand, his fingers balled into a fist, to stop his companions from advancing any further. He listened, alert for any sound or sign of their target, but heard nothing. With a smile, he lowered his fist and edged forward slowly. He lived for this.

He winced when he heard a small crack from behind him, and turned his head to see one of the others holding up a hand in apology. Callum glowered, but moved on without further rebuke. They weren’t in Fallujah this time and mistakes didn’t mean death, but it still annoyed him when others screwed up. He brushed aside some shrubbery as quietly as he could, then inhaled deeply.

There he was. Callum crouched as low as he could and lifted his rifle. Square in front of him was the mother lode – the largest male stag he’d ever seen. It was an amazing beast. When its haunches were locked squarely in his iron gun sight, Callum breathed. In and out. In and out. He aimed, concentrated on his breathing then squeezed down on the trigger slightly.

The sound of a steam train whistle broke the serenity. Callum flinched involuntarily, just as the rifle boomed in response to his caress. He’d missed and the deer was spooked by the barrage of sound. It broke into a run, crushing twigs underfoot as it disappeared deep into the forest. Callum stared at where the stag had been, his mouth agape, then lowered his weapon and looked around.

“What the hell?” Callum locked his eyes on one of his companions. Though Todd Bowles was a friend, right now Callum wanted to shove a branch down his throat until leaves sprouted from his ass. When the other man didn’t look up from his iPhone, Callum placed his rifle against a tree and marched over to him.

Todd looked up from his phone. He gave no sign that he understood the enormity of his screw up. “What? It’s important.”

“So is the biggest deer this side of the Rocky Mountains. I had it lined up!” Callum pushed Todd off his feet and onto his back. “Who brings a phone hunting?”

“Hey, calm down!” Todd took a half-hearted swing at Callum as a few of their friends dragged him away. “I had the phone set to ring only for an emergency. It rang.”

Callum fought off the hands of his friends and sat on the ground. “What do you mean? What’s the matter?”

“It’s from my buddy in the Secret Service. We were together in Kandahar. Word is that all the state defense forces are being mobilized.”

Callum paused. It was no small deal if true. The Illinois State Guard had been reconstituted after the war between the United States and China, along with those from other states that had long ago abolished them. A rung below the National Guard, they were a small force under the command of the state governor. Every state in America now had one, armed with surplus military equipment.

Like many in the guard, Callum was ex-army and attracted to the pay and conditions that they offered for part-time work. It seemed a good way to keep in touch with the life and career he’d known for his whole adult life. He could keep his pension and work for them tax-free, which sure beat packing groceries at Wal-Mart or cleaning windows in the Illinois winter. He’d signed on and kept his sergeant rank.

“That’s a big deal.” Callum started to stand. “Must be because of the attack on the Hoover Dam yesterday.”

While the attacks across the country had been severe and showed no sign of slowing, Callum hadn’t expected them to lead to the mobilization of any arm of the military. Even the activation of the state defense forces showed that a large number of people in the highest levels of command were taking things pretty seriously. He wondered if there was more to it.

“Wait a minute.” Mark Pettine looked up from the ground, deep in thought. “Who’s doing the activating? We’re under the governor’s authority.”

Callum and Todd looked at each other and shrugged, before Callum started to walk back to his rifle. “Doesn’t matter. We better pull up camp. We’ll get the call soon.”

***

Mariposa Esposito paused briefly and then clicked confirm, sending thousands of pounds of relief supplies from warehouses across Illinois to towns devastated by the Hoover Dam flood. She stood, walked to a whiteboard near her cubicle and drew a line through a name on the board. She smiled, proud that she’d now helped all of the towns she’d been assigned to assist. It was a good thing, because while FEMA Area V had deep resources to call upon, most relief supplies in Illinois had now been trucked off. Mariposa walked back to her desk and sat heavily in her chair. 

She struggled to stifle a yawn and looked to the left of her monitor. She’d pinned a photo of her seven-year-old son, Juan, on the cubicle wall. His close-cropped hair was ruffled from play and his smile was so wide that it plumped up his cheeks. Best of all were his chocolate brown eyes that made her heart melt. She looked back at the screen, but before she had the chance to do any work, one of her colleagues walked over and parked his rear on the edge of her desk. She looked up with a smile still on her face. Murray Devereaux looked as tired as she felt. 

“You’re cheery.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked up to the board. “Nothing left to dispatch?”

“Just pressed go on the last lot.” She patted his leg. “How’re you holding up, Murray? How’s Di?”

“One step closer to a divorce.” He gave a tired shrug. “Things were going better until we had to start working these double shifts. Back to where we started now.”

Mariposa gave a sympathetic nod. FEMA officers had been working hard since the beginning of the attacks a month ago. All leave had been canceled and many of the staff had been spending more time at the office than at home. She’d had to hire a sitter. But the attack on the Hoover Dam had nearly broken their backs, with the work stepping into overdrive in the past twenty-four hours.

“I don’t know what to say, Murray.” Mariposa grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Except that we’re helping a lot of people.”

His expression darkened. “Fat lot of good it’s doing. As soon as we react to one attack they cause chaos elsewhere. Each time, our supplies run a little lower.”

She nodded. “And it doesn’t feel right that we’re leeching all of our supplies, given Chicago hasn’t been hit yet? I get it.”

He exhaled for a long few seconds. “There’s no point thinking about it – it’s all on the back of trucks now. We better just hope the hammer doesn’t fall here.”

“Amen to that.”

He raised his coffee cup in salute and then lowered it to consider its contents. “Running on empty, you want one?”

She glanced at her cup but didn’t get the chance to answer as her computer made a sound that drew her attention. Only emails from a select few people made that sound, Murray among them. She leaned forward, clicked on the new arrival and scanned the contents of the email quickly. Murray read over her shoulder and let out a soft whistle.

“Big wigs incoming.” He scoffed. “Arriving just in time to congratulate themselves.”

Mariposa let out a short laugh then reached up to cover her mouth. “You’re terrible.”

“Not wrong though. Catch you later.” He smiled and walked back toward his desk.

Mariposa put her headphones in and started answering the emails that had built up while she had been coordinating relief supplies. As she worked in rhythm with the music, the distractions of the rest of the office vanished. Most of the emails were routine and many were complete junk, but all had to be dealt with. She liked to go home with an empty inbox.