Vendetta Nation (Enigma Black Trilogy #2) (16 page)

BOOK: Vendetta Nation (Enigma Black Trilogy #2)
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“But…you can’t let go of her, can you?”

“No. Not just yet.” As he spoke those words, he happened to look up at the darkening sky, where the stars were just beginning to make their appearance, seemingly dancing around the last star at the tip of the handle of the Big Dipper.

*****

“Are you nervous?” Kara asked me while I paced about my room. I gathered toiletries from the bathroom—my toothbrush, deodorant and hair brush—and placed them in an overnight bag so I wouldn’t forget to pack them.

“What’s there to be nervous about? It’s only Brooks.” I threw some sweat pants into the bag, amused by Kara’s horrified expression. “Hell, it’s like we know him already with the amount of time we’ve been spending with his avatar in the simulator. Now
that
Brooks is almost likable. He keeps to himself, doesn’t commit genocide…”

“You don’t honestly think you’re going to wear that to the ball, do you?”

I held my blue jeans in my hand, eyeing her suspiciously. “What ball?”

“Victor didn’t mention the ball being held the night before? It’s at the hotel you’re booked to stay at.”

“He mentioned a soiree of some sort, but there was no mention of any Cinderella-esque activities.”

“What exactly do you think a soiree is, dear?”

“Where I’m from, jeans and a soiree go hand in hand.”

“Well, thankfully, I packed a little something for you. It’s in a suitcase in the back of the car you’ll be driving to the hotel.”

“Oh, Kara, you really shouldn’t have.” I zipped up my overnight bag and sat down on my bed. “What else is on the agenda?”

“You and Ian will leave tomorrow at around noon, arriving at The Park View around mid aft—”

“The Park View?” I asked, slightly awestruck. As a child, I used to peruse Carol’s society magazines. In particular, I remembered seeing photographs of The Park View. Even at a young age, I knew it was something special to behold, with its marble floors, crystal chandeliers, fountains, and the courtyard known for its roses of practically every species and color; its beauty transcended everything I’d ever seen before and since. Blooms in various shades of red, pink, orange, yellow, burgundy, lavender, and a white as pure as the driven snow bathed the garden in a sea of color that could only be described as ethereal. Even twenty years later, I remember the photographs as vividly as I did when I first laid eyes on them. They were taken in the middle of summer; the sun’s rays had reflected off their velvety petals, damp from a late morning rain. The images of them were a vision with the capability of burning itself into your mind, one that you couldn’t help but smile at when you thought about it. And although I knew that it was still far too early in the season to be able to see that sight with my own eyes, a part of me still became giddy over the prospect of seeing the courtyard itself.

“Only the best for you,” Kara said, breaking me away from my reverie.

“You mean, only the best for Brooks,” I retorted.

“After you and Ian arrive at the hotel,” Kara began again, ignoring my remark, “you’ll be ushered through a private entrance, so be sure to wear your uniforms. You’ll then be directed to your rooms, where you’ll have about two hours to get ready before the ball starts. The President will arrive around six that evening. You and Ian will be introduced to him in plain clothes, though he’ll know who you are.”

“So much for the air of mystery,” I quipped.

“Trust me, he’s seen you before,” she said. “After that, you and Ian will have the night to yourselves. The calm before the storm, so to speak. If I were you, I’d make the most of it, because the next day is going to be hectic.”

“I highly doubt Ian and I are going to be able to let loose, kick our heels up and have fun,” I said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” She fell quiet, running her finger along the stitching of my comforter. “Celaine, you know I want you to be happy, right?”

“I used to think that. But now I’m beginning to question that notion with this whole ball thing.”

“Just do me a favor,” she sighed. “Keep an open mind tomorrow night. I know how you feel about Chase, but maybe you can find happiness elsewhere. Maybe it’s right under your nose and you don’t even know it.”

“Happiness,” I sneered. “I’m honestly beginning to believe that happiness is nothing more than a carrot dangled in front of our noses by a sadistic sociopath. We live our whole lives by the carrot holder’s rules, do everything we’re told, even get a nibble at it from time to time, only to have it yanked out of our reach before we can truly taste it.”

“Well,” Kara eyed me, “it’s my belief that happiness is a choice. Far too many people choose to allow their lives to become dictated by the whims of the carrot holder, never daring to do anything to change the hand they were dealt.”

“Something tells me we’re not talking about vegetables here.”

“Please, just think about it. All I want is to see the same goofy smile you have on your face whenever you’re thinking about Chase, but with someone you can actually have a future with.”

Her words stung me. I felt my body grow heavy, as though I’d been cast in lead. “Um…ouch.”

“Call it tough love.” She touched my arm lightly with the palm of her hand. “I mean it,” she said, looking me in the eye. “Choose to be happy again, Celaine.”

“I’ll work on it.”

“I guess that’s a start.” She patted my arm before she stood up from the bed. “I’m serious, Celaine. If you wear those sweatpants you just threw into your overnight bag, I’m going to disown you as my sister.”

“But what if my happiness involves comfort?”

She stared at me for what seemed like forever, unsure whether to laugh or choke me. “Just stick to the clothes I packed for you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I saluted her.

“Oh, and I’ve arranged for someone to do your hair and makeup too,” she called out to me just as the door to my room slid shut behind her.
Chapter Sixteen
A Call to Arms

In the wee hours of the morning, they arrived at the cabin in the woods in small groups. Representing the various units spread across the country, they had traveled far from home, some as far as Napa Valley, all for a unified cause. Their numbers grew fast, far exceeding the number previously estimated by their leader Marshall Leitner.

“Welcome, my brothers and sisters,” Marshall addressed each group as they entered. Shortly, the wooden structure was filled to capacity, forcing newcomers to spill out onto the porch in the chilled air outside. Even though they’d never met each other in person, most of them already knew one another from their presence at the meetings and the numerous webcasts broadcast throughout the units.

“Nice to finally meet you in a venue outside of a computer screen,” John Spiers from the unit based in Bakersfield greeted Marshall.

“John,” Marshall said, instantly recognizing the more vocal member of the rebellion, “glad you made it here safely.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t without its difficulties. Our car was searched at just about every border stop we made on our way here. I thought for certain that one of the patrolmen was going to follow us here after we entered Maryland.”

“Whether they did or they didn’t, will any of that really matter after tomorrow evening?”

“No,” John answered him solemnly, “I suppose it won’t.”

“Just remember tomorrow is about change, my friend.” Marshall patted him on the back. “We were put on this earth to be catalysts, not quitters.”

“And that will only mean something if others are inspired to walk in our shoes after our mission is completed,” he said, skeptically.

“It would appear that I have more faith in the human race than you do.”

“I only have faith in the things that have given me cause to believe in them,” John said before joining the others from the Bakersfield unit, leaving Marshall to finish greeting the other arriving units. Soon, the last of them trickled in.

“Jeremiah,” Marshall greeted Senator Delaney as he entered the cabin. By then, members of each of the units had cleared enough space in the structure, moving tables, chairs and various computer and networking equipment, to accommodate a sizeable chunk of the crowd, standing room only.

“Your ability to assemble the masses is truly impressive,” Jeremiah observed. “The sheer number of people here ought to accomplish our goal nicely.”

“Yes,” Marshall replied quietly. “Let’s just hope that some of them make it out of there with their lives.”

“Well,” Jeremiah patted Marshall on the back, “it’s a good thing I’m the one giving the pep talk tonight.” Senator Delaney squeezed through the crowd on his way to the fireplace, the focal point in the room, drawing both awe and ire in his wake. The grumblings of the more suspicious unit members rippled across the cabin, but were quickly hushed by the Maryland unit and Marshall Leitner.

“I know that many of you are still suspicious of me and my intentions,” Senator Delaney addressed the crowd. “You have no reason to trust me. And why should you? You don’t know me. All you know is that I’m a member of the administration you despise so much.” He glanced up at Marshall, who nodded his approval, before resuming again. “Rest assured, just because I swim with the sharks, it doesn’t mean that I am one. If anything, it’s made me understand how they tick.” He glanced back around the room, noticing that, even though they’d toned down a few notches, the looks he received were still anything but relaxed. “I’m sticking my neck out here, too,” he began again. “If I were to be caught here, I’d be sentenced to death for treason the same as you. Except my death would be used as an example to anyone else in my position who dared to go against the grain. So, as you can see, we both have good reasons to have our own trust issues. After all, you know my name, I don’t know any of yours.”

“You assume we’re all narks,” a voice near the doorway called out. “Personally, I think it would be counterproductive to turn on each other like that.”

“As do I,” Senator Delaney acknowledged. “It seems as though we’re all likeminded people here. And as long as there’s a growing number of us who share the same goals, I believe nothing will stop us from accomplishing them.” Nods and answers in agreement overtook the room as Senator Delaney paused to gather his thoughts. “Tomorrow, you will embark on the single greatest coup this country has ever seen. Tomorrow, you’ll stand united in your defiance. You’ll approach the park on foot and by boat, surrounding Brooks and his misguided supporters in a show of bravery few have witnessed in our world in over a decade. Many of you will be killed, many more of you will be imprisoned, some of you may make it back here. But even if you do, you will be hunted down. In short, your lives will never be the same again.”

“Just remember,” Marshall interrupted. “Our mission is going to be streamed live over the internet. It’s imperative that if there are shots fired, that the first one doesn’t come from us, unless Bruce can get a clear shot at Brooks. Is that understood?”

“It seems like a tragic waste of the guns we’ll be carrying,” a younger man said.

“No, a tragic waste would be losing the sympathy of the public when Brooks’ men begin firing upon a peaceful protest,” Marshall spoke up. “Thanks to the actions of those superheroes some nights ago, public opinion has been swayed dramatically. Those who were sleeping, unconscious to Brooks’ true intentions, experienced a violent wakeup call. We need to continue riding this wave of momentum to shore. One slip and we all drown. All weapons will be kept concealed, with no one brandishing theirs unless fired upon. Are we in agreement?”

“Aye,” several of the unit members answered.

“Good,” Marshall said. “Tomorrow is going to be one of the most important days of our lives. As Senator Delaney said, we all need to prepare for the worst. If there are any of you who have reservations about what we are about to do tomorrow, I implore you to think about this when you lay your head down on your pillows tonight. Would you rather die as cowards, huddled in the corners of your homes, waiting to die, or would you rather die as martyrs, fighting for your lives and those of the ones you love?”

“With the way we’re living now,” Bruce Vaupel, answered, “we may as well be dead. This is no life for a dog, let alone human beings. If sacrificing our lives means that others may have one, I’m all in.” He turned around to formally address the crowd behind him. “And if any of you disagree, you can get the hell out of here right now because there’s no room for cowardice anymore. I’m going to stand and fight, what say you?”

“I’m going to fight,” a young woman, whose mousy brown hair was parted in two braids that fell neatly on her shoulders, announced proudly.

“Me too,” answered an older gentleman.

Seconds later, the cabin erupted in a chorus of affirmations; a melody that carried over through the trees, and echoed across the country.

*****

“Victor,” the voice on the other end of the phone demanded his response before he could even answer.

“Everything is going off without a hitch,” Victor answered him. “Ms. Stevens and Mr. Grant will arrive at the hotel later on today. Plans have been made to meet you this evening.”

“Good. It’s important that this address goes smoothly. I can’t afford any more negative publicity. Thanks to the whole debacle with the protesters, the people are becoming more defiant. If the public turns on me, it’s going to be a battle for the both of us, and I’m in no mood for a fight.”

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