Revolt Page 2

  9:22 AM

  Quadrant BG-098

  Mitch Carraway sipped coffee at his diner’s counter while he watched the morning PeopleCam broadcast. So they say they want to begin the Linking next week? We’ll see about that.

  He was poised to step up the Resistance’s campaign against Madalyn Davies, rather than waiting to let her implode on her own. It was more important than ever for his operatives to stay in touch, but Atari seemed to consider it beneath him to keep Mitch in the loop. He dialed his satellite phone and rubbed his tired eyes. As soon as he heard Atari’s voice on the line, he demanded, “Well? Was the extraction successful? Kevin managed to feed me information while he was right under Madalyn’s nose, but he only knew part of what happened. I’ve been up all night waiting to hear from you.”

  “I’m busy, all right? We saved the girl and foiled the villain. Sort of. Madalyn totally freaked out when Careen went AWOL and the Link couldn’t track her down, and now I’m dealing with a massive amount of fallout. If we’d left Careen where she was, Madalyn wouldn’t be hell-bent on starting the Linking. We could have had more time.”

  “I relied on Kevin’s assessment when he insisted we extract her. Pulling her out had the potential to involve the OCSD in another scandal.”

  “Instead, we can chalk it up as a fail. All it did was make my life harder.”

  “Oh, poor you. Quit complaining and learn to deal with the unexpected.”

  Atari’s retort was angry. “Linking Madalyn was never supposed to happen, but when it happened, I embraced it, man. I ran with it. That. Changed. Everything. I can bring her down single-handedly, without you, the Resistance, and your penny-ante plan.”

  “I’m calling the shots, and I want you to swear to me that you’re not going to activate the Link.”

  “You’re not the least bit curious about what would happen?”

  “No.”

  “And you don’t care that it’s the best way to restart the free flow of information?”

  “Not at all. Now do as you’re told and string her along while I mobilize our ground forces. We’ll have her arrested before the damn thing ever becomes a threat.”

  “Whatever you say, mon capitan! Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’ll be ready to take over when you lose control of the situation.” Atari hung up.

  10:03 AM

  Fuming about Atari’s insubordination, Mitch slung his backpack over his shoulder and trudged out to the bunker hidden in the woods. For the first time in his life, he lived alone, and it had been quiet with his daughter away. Though Jaycee’s departure with Tom and Lara Bailey had felt more like a defection, he supposed it was as good a time as any to let her have a little freedom. In the unlikely event that their guerilla tactics failed to remove Madalyn from the OCSD director’s position, there was no telling how many more Restrictions would be clamped down on them in the future. The Link would be just the beginning.

  It had been several years since he’d first sought out attorney Tom Bailey, and then Atari, the young computer expert, and recruited them to help further his goals for the Resistance. Until recently, he’d been the only one calling the shots, and now he felt like he was clashing with them as much as their mutual enemy.

  Had he given Atari too much autonomy? He would have liked to ask Tom’s opinion, but their relationship was so strained lately that he’d rather die than admit his operative was out of control. Madalyn had to be neutralized before she could tempt Atari into testing his invention.

  Tom had disappointed him too. After all his talk about preserving people’s liberties and fighting against government overreach, he’d taken off for the capital on his own last month and parlayed with Madalyn. When that hadn’t worked, he’d finagled a meeting with the president and the chief QM to ingratiate himself with higher-ups in the current government, probably hoping to be included in the new world order after Madalyn fell from power.

  Just three members of the Resistance, who’d escaped their captors at the OCSD and fled to Resistance headquarters after Lowell Stratford’s death, remained nearby, hiding in an underground bunker on his land. David Honerlaw, Grace Hughes, and Trina Jacobs were all motivated by the desire get their lives back. If the plan to oust Madalyn worked, they’d no longer have to live in hiding.

  Mitch left the dirt path and began his descent through the trees, skidding on pine needles and fallen leaves, until he arrived at the metal door concealed in an outcropping of granite that jutted up from the forest floor. He’d always thought of the rocks as a symbol of the stronghold that lay hidden beneath the surface of the earth. He punched a series of numbers on the keypad, stepped into the semidarkness, and clomped down the metal stairs to the bunker’s main room.

  The two women sat at the scarred wooden table. Trina was scribbling on a legal pad, and Grace was glaring, arms crossed, at her ex-husband, David, as he paced.

  David and Grace’s personal relationship was prickly, but Mitch had confidence in their ability to draft a plan for life after the OCSD. Professors specializing in economics and public policy, they had spent their careers collecting data to study how curtailing people’s freedoms hurt the economy and weakened the individual. Soon, he hoped their theoretical work would be put to practical use.

  He shared his news without preamble. “They got Careen out last night. I just heard from Atari. She and Tommy are at the safe house with him.”

  Smiles broke out all around. Grace and Trina hugged each other, and David nearly slapped Mitch across the face with an exuberant attempt at a high-five.

  “Here.” Mitch pulled a heavy textbook from his pack and laid it on the table. Grace pounced on it.

  “Our seventh edition! This one was my favorite. I’m flattered that you have a copy on hand.”

  “It’s one of my pet subjects, and you and David wrote the book. Literally.” David winked at Mitch, appreciating the joke.

  “It will be nice to be able to refer to the text. I know it well, but not by heart.” Grace began to leaf through the pages.

  Mitch nodded at Trina. “How’s it going?”

  “Writing my vision of a big, dramatic showdown between Madalyn and me? It’s even more fun than I thought it would be, especially since Tom said we could use the information on the chip drive he left with David. Who knew Madalyn’s deepest, darkest secret was so juicy, and so—Madalyn? Here, take a look for yourself.”

  He sat beside her, and she pushed her notes toward him. He scanned the lines. “Think you’re being a little melodramatic?”

  “When Lowell Stratford hired me, he tricked me into working on his mind-control project, and then he drugged me and locked me up when I tried to blow the whistle on it. After I managed to get off the drug and risked my life to help the Resistance, Madalyn framed me for murder.” She pulled the notes back with a grin. “The whole situation is melodramatic, and I want the ending to be consistent.”

  “How much acting experience do you have?”

  “I was in a play in high school, once.”

  “Murder mystery?”

  “Actually, it was a comedy. A farce.”

  He nodded. “That’s fitting.”

  She laughed. “There won’t be much acting involved. I’m just telling it like it is. I can’t wait to see what Atari does to bring it all to life. Do you think it’ll be convincing?”

  “Oh, yeah. People believe what they want to believe, especially when you put evidence right in front of them.”

  “Now all we need is the perfect arena.”

  10:45 AM

  Trina and Mitch set up the video camera to do a test recording of her monologue that would be used later to set the final phase of their attack against Madalyn in motion. Trina had delivered only a few lines when Mitch’s phone rang. He paused the camera. “It’s Kevin.” He answered, and after a few muttered “uh-huhs” he said, “Send it to me and I’ll get on it right away.”

  He hung up, and Trina, who had been hovering nearby, slapped him on the arm. “I wanted to say
hi!”

  “No. Business only.”

  “But he’s my best friend. Next time you talk to him, be sure to tell him I said hello.”

  Mitch rolled his eyes. “I have to download the information he’s sending and make a call to Danni and a few others.” He motioned her back in front of the camera. “Do another paragraph and then you and Grace take a look and make sure you’re coming across as authentic. The segue between the recorded you and the live you has to be seamless.”

  Trina nodded and launched into her speech again.

  Mitch spent an hour reading the documents Kevin had sent to his phone and scribbling numbers on a legal pad. Trina had viewed the video with Grace several times and made notes before Mitch disconnected his final call and turned his attention back to her.

  They’d barely begun to record again when the satellite phone at his hip vibrated. He glanced down, and when he saw who was calling, he seemed reluctant to make eye contact with her.

  “Come on, Mitch! You can call them back. What’s so important, anyway?”

  His anger flared. “None of your business. I’m going to take it outside.” He hurried up the stairs, and Trina heard him hail the caller and begin to speak before the door closed behind him.

  David had called Grace over to the sofa when Trina and Mitch were recording, and now they were engrossed in their notes and textbook. Trina stretched, quietly left the room, and crept after Mitch. I know a guilty look when I see one.

  She, David, and Grace had been living in the bunker’s close quarters for far longer than she would have liked, but when she’d asked about moving back down to the boardinghouse or one of the rooms over the diner, Mitch had insisted it was still too dangerous. Trina suspected it was mostly Mitch’s secrets, rather than fear of the QM returning for another raid, that made him insist on living at Resistance headquarters alone.

  She opened the door just enough to look out. Mitch stood about ten yards away, his back to the bunker.

  “The timing couldn’t be better. Thank you for your persistence.” He paused to listen, and Trina strained not to miss anything. He laughed. “I always believed that lawmakers voted on bills without reading ’em. Now I know it’s true. Oh, yeah. I’ve got my list of must-haves ready to go. Thanks, Congressman. You’ve done a great thing for your country.”

  Hands on hips, Trina watched Mitch hurry back up the hill through the evergreens. He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye. What was he up to now?

  11:25 AM

  Quadrant OP-439

  Danni Carraway smiled wickedly at Jude Monroe as she disconnected the call and slipped her satellite phone into her back pocket. “Hey, college boy. You up for a little adventure?” She moved across his living room as fluidly as a prowling cat, leaned over the back of the sofa, and draped her arms around his shoulders. “Come with me on some Resistance business.” She caught his earlobe between her teeth just long enough to jump-start his heart before she released him and cast a come-hither glance over her shoulder as she sauntered toward the bedroom. “It’ll be fun.”

  He grinned as he set down his coffee mug and followed her down the hall. How could he resist?

  At her instruction, he changed into dark clothing. She zipped her jacket, tied a bandanna around her neck, and when she finished by pulling on a cap and sunglasses, he followed suit. The sunglasses were a hindrance. With winter less than a week away, days were short in the Midwest and the sun an infrequent visitor. He pulled them down his nose so he could see as they left the building.

  Out in her truck, Danni rummaged under the seat and emerged with a handgun. She checked the magazine, found it fully loaded, and stuck it in the back of her waistband.

  They drove out of the university quadrant, through the surrounding city, and headed northeast on the sparsely traveled, poorly maintained inter-quadrant highway. After half an hour, they had met no other vehicles. Danni guided the truck easily from lane to lane as she navigated around the potholes, some large enough to serve as a child’s wading pool. Though their speed never topped thirty-five miles per hour, she slowed to a crawl several times to avoid blowing a tire or breaking an axle on the sections of badly damaged pavement.

  Some time later, she took a lonely exit ramp that spit them out onto a narrow two-lane road. Jude looked both ways. “Where are we going?”

  “Meeting a friend.” She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Won’t be long now.” They passed rolling, wooded hills and overgrown fields that Jude assumed had once, in another time and season, been lush with plantings of corn and soybeans. He’d no sooner relaxed, enjoying the scenery, when a delivery truck appeared on the rise ahead.

  “Do you have your phone?”

  He fished it out of his pocket.

  “Record this.”

  As soon as they were close enough to see the other driver’s face, Danni yanked the steering wheel to the left and skidded into the middle of the road, blocking the oncoming lane. The man’s eyes grew wide as he slammed on the brakes, and Danni pulled up her bandanna and stepped out, gun drawn, before the truck screeched to a stop.

  The holdup played out like something on television. She yanked open the driver’s-side door and kept the gun trained on the man as he stumbled to the ground. “Got a phone? Give it to me.” He kept one hand raised while he fumbled in his pocket, drew out a phone, and tossed it onto the ground. Danni picked it up, never taking her eyes off the man. “Hands on your head. Get over there!” She prodded him to the far side of the road and down the embankment. Jude rolled down the passenger window as she ran back to him.

  “You can turn off the camera now. There’s a second gun in the glove box. I’ll drive his truck. You follow and cover me. Got it?”

  “Yeah, I guess ….” His hands shook and he fumbled to put his phone away before he opened the glove box.

  “What’s the matter?” She didn’t actually say chicken, but her tone was taunting.

  “I never learned how to drive.”

  “Oh for crap’s sake, that’s the easy part. You just watched me. There’s no one on the road but us. I’ll turn it around and point you in the right direction. You can handle it from there.”

  The tires squealed as she brought the truck around and put it in park, and she was gone again in a flash, running back to the delivery truck. Jude slid over into the driver’s seat and glanced back once at the hapless driver standing on the side of the road before he clumsily put the truck in gear and lurched after Danni.

  Though at first driving took all his concentration, he grew increasingly confident as they put miles behind them. He was almost sorry the trip was over when they turned into a rutted dirt lane that led past a boarded-up house. Danni stopped the delivery truck in front of a dilapidated barn and jumped down from the running board. He parked behind her with a sigh of satisfaction. His hands were no longer shaking.

  She looked like she was having the time of her life. She flashed a wide smile and called, “Hey, grab one of the other license plates from under the floor mat and change it out with the one on the back, will you? I’ll just be a minute.”

  He flipped up the mat, chose a plate that had originated in the neighboring MG quadrants, and set to work while she tugged open the rough, wooden barn door and parked the truck inside. She came to rummage in the toolbox, selected a padlock, and dashed back to secure the door. He climbed back in let her have the driver’s side.

  She pulled off the black cap and shook out her hair. “That ought to slow down the Linking in the OP quadrants, anyway.”

  “What about everywhere else?”

  “We weren’t the only ones with this assignment today. I can’t tell you everything, but one of our operatives got his hands on the supply chain information and the delivery schedules from factories that manufacture the Links. After that, it was just a matter of logistics and timing.”

  She glanced back at the abandoned farm as the truck bounced down the dirt road. “Lucky for us, no one lives out here. It’s the perfect place to h
ide something as large as a truck. At the same time, it’s a shame. I bet this was a good farm once. Since the Travel Restrictions went into effect, people who couldn’t get permission to drive had to move in closer to an urban center or risk being totally isolated.”

  She turned onto the main road and laughed, good humor restored. “We’re going to send that video you made to PeopleCam. I’ve got the perfect lead-in for the story that will never air: ‘In an ironic turn of events, trucks full of GPS trackers disappeared from highways all over the nation today.’”

  Chapter 3

  2:25 PM

  Quadrant DC-005

  Careen opened her eyes. She didn’t need the flashing light on her Link to help figure out where she was. She’d spent the night on the cold tile of Tommy’s bathroom floor, huddled in the comforter and clutching the empty gun as she’d struggled to stay awake. Eventually sleep had overcome her, and when she’d awakened just now, the gun was still in her hand. It had some value as a short-range weapon, but it would be better if it had bullets.

  This rescue wasn’t real—it was just another of Madalyn Davies’s periodic loyalty tests. Careen knew she was bereft of allies. Tommy had every reason to hate her. Any act of kindness only reinforced her belief that he was undergoing a test of his own. He was no longer her friend or lover, and she meant what she’d said to him the night before. She was determined to die fighting.

  She hid the gun behind her back and opened the bathroom door with as much stealth as she could. Tommy, sprawled in a chair blocking the doorway, awoke with a start.

  Knock him out. Run for the elevator.

  He rubbed his eye as he sat up. “Are you all right?”

  The concern in his voice was so genuine that she wavered, and the opportunity for a surprise attack passed. She kept her voice harsh. “When were you released? How did you get here?”