Storm Surge

Chapter Twenty-One

DAR FOLDED HER arms and glanced out the tinted window as the car sped through the streets. Kerry was sitting next to her, ear buds planted firmly in her ears as she directed the conference call in muted tones.

"Dar?" Kerry looked up. "Hamilton Baird just dropped into the call, said he'd meet us."

Dar nodded. "Good," she said. "Never thought I'd be glad to see his puss, but annoying as he is he's a first rate lawyer."

"Your father is listening from the RV," Kerry said. "What's a coon ass?"

Dar snorted in laughter, covering her mouth and then her eyes with one hand. "He didn't say that on the call, did he?"

"Um. Well, actually--"

"It's slang for someone from Cajun Louisiana. It's not really a compliment." Dar peered through her fingers. "Sort of like being called a hillbilly. Only worse."

"He laughed."

"My father?"

"Hamilton," Kerry said. "Then he called your Dad a redneck. I think the entire company's stunned to complete silence."

"Mari must be on the floor behind her desk out cold," Dar sighed. "Round out the electroshock therapy by calling Dad and telling them to behave."

"Whatever you say, boss." Kerry went back to her headset with a grin on her face.

Dar returned her gaze to the streets of Washington, working to ignore the twisting in her guts and faintly envying Kerry the distraction of her current task. She'd been in many high profile situations for the company and certainly she had a lot of confidence both in herself and her organization, but being called to the carpet at the White House was both a new and very nerve wracking experience for her.

She didn't like politics. Based on her previous experience, she didn't much like politicians. Dar felt that in order to be elected by a majority, politicians had to become the lowest common denominator and promise everything to everyone, delivering not much to anyone in the end.

Except in South Florida, to their relatives. Dar unfolded her arms and let her hands rest on her denim covered knees. Corruption wasn't viewed so much as a scandal in Miami but, as a bit of entertainment for the residents to discuss over café along with the latest news of Castro, the traffic, and whether or not hurricanes would be heavy or light this season.

Expected. Politicians were wheelers and dealers where she lived, and while it did earn Miami the banana republic reputation it had, Dar also found the up front acknowledgement quite a bit more refreshing. Straightforward, and local. The county and city leaders didn't much give a rat's ass about the rest of the state, or in fact, the rest of the country. Their focus was on drawing people and businesses in, pushing development to its limits, scooping in as much in taxes as they could, and spending money on whoever's pet project they got the most kickbacks for.

No euphemisms about bettering humanity. No long harangues about family values. Very commercial, very crass, very ethnic. Dar liked that. She remembered hearing one local politico talking to some moral values types at a fundraiser she'd been roped into attending, and they'd asked him about the dangers of a gay neighborhood springing up in a certain area.

"Let them come," the politico had said. "They improve any area they live in. Property value goes up, taxes go up. Show me that around a soup kitchen."

Blunt. Shocking. Very Miami. Dar remembered after Hurricane Andrew, when there had been hundreds of thousands of tons of debris to get rid of, and the state and federal government citing pollution regulations, had forbid burning to get rid of it.

They'd burned it anyway. The county manager had told the regulators to come arrest him if they didn't like it.

Dar felt a certain sympathy with the attitude.

The car turned into a long driveway, and pulled to a halt at a large iron guarded gate. "Ma'am, I'll need to show them your identification." Their driver half turned to look at her. "Can you pass it up please?"

"No." Dar laced her fingers. "Actually, I can give you Kerry's. Not mine."

The driver looked at her.

"I'm not deliberately being an asshole." Dar correctly interpreted his expression. "I just don't have it. My wallet and ID is back in Miami."

The driver continued to stare at her. "Ma'am, they won't let you in there without ID."

"Well," his passenger cleared her throat. "That could be true. But the government paid a lot of money to bring me up here from Florida on a military airplane and then send you to fetch me to the White House. Chances are someone in there knows who I am or at least will trust that I am who they think I am."

The driver shrugged, and turned back around. "See what they say." He drove the car forward a space, waiting for the rest of the line to clear the gate. Dar took the opportunity to fish inside Kerry's briefcase, bringing out her ID and holding it in one hand.

Kerry glanced up at her in question, one hand still cupped over her ear. Dar held up her passport folio, and she nodded, then went back to her conversation, reaching out with her other hand to pat Dar's knee.

The car pulled forward, and the driver opened the door, putting one leg out and standing up to talk to the guard rather than opening the window. Dar didn't much envy him, since she figured he was probably telling this armed, anxious, hyper alert man that he had some chick in the car who wanted in to the White House without even a driver's license.

"Dar, Houston's saying they're running really high on usage across the net," Kerry said. "You probably need to check it out."

Dar wiggled her fingers, and looked down at her empty lap, raising her brows at her partner. "They haven't put the chip in yet, hon. Can I borrow your laptop?"

"Of course." Kerry nudged her briefcase over with her foot. "You have to ask?"

"I have to ask because I'll need to sign in with your cached credentials and then rig the VPN system to ask for mine." Dar was drawing the machine out and putting in on her lap. "I usually ask nicely when I'm hacking my SO's system."

Kerry gave her a fond smile. "I love you," she said, then paused, and looked down at her mic, cursing silently. "What's that? No, no, I was-- okay, never mind. Who has the name of the guy I need to talk to?"

Dar chuckled under her breath.

"You get me in so much damn trouble." Kerry obviously keyed the mic off this time, scribbling on a pad with her other hand. "Jesus."

The driver dropped back into the car. "Ma'am, they need to verify with the folks inside. I'm going to pull off over here so we don't block the gate."

"Sure." Dar clicked away at the keyboard. "I'll just be back here rerouting all of your paychecks to the French Foreign Legion." She inserted the cellular card and waited for the computer to fully boot, then opened a command line window and started typing.

"Didn't you rig the VPN system so no one could log in with someone else's laptop?" Kerry asked, idly.

"Yes."

"Mm." Kerry paused then cleared her throat. "Yes, Mr. Mitchell? This is Kerry Stuart from ILS." She paused again, listening. "Yes, I understand. Mr. Mitchell, I do un--sir," Kerry's voice lifted. "That's not correct. I do understand what has been going on the past two days, since I'm sitting in a car outside the gate to the White House right now waiting to talk to the folks inside about it."

Dar finished her typing then triggered the VPN connection. It obediently presented her with a login box, which she entered her credentials into and sent it on its way. "Problem?" she asked, in a casual tone.

"Not Dar level yet." Kerry covered the mouthpiece then removed her hand. "Right. So explain to me now why my technicians, who are busting their asses to try and keep their schedules on track, aren't being allowed to complete your install? The one you contracted for? You did ask us to do this, didn't you?"

Dar drummed her fingers on the palm rest, as her desktop formed itself in front of her. She could have actually used Kerry's, but their working style was so different it drove her crazy trying to find things on it.

She opened her custom monitoring application, glancing over the top of the laptop screen toward the driver. He was sitting quietly, relaxed and reading a notepad, occasionally looking up to watch the guards at the gate to see if they were going to come over to them.

Dar pondered what to do if they got turned away. Go to the Pentagon? Maybe Gerry could get her some temporary credentials. "I'm such an idiot." She sighed, as the gages formed up and she studied the results.

"Okay, then we have an understanding," Kerry said. "I'll send my team back up there, and they'll get on with the work. It shouldn't take long," she added. "Thanks." She hung up and went back to the conference call. "Jerk."

Dar keyed on the government routers that were managed from Houston, separating them out in a window and reviewing their statistics. "You're such a hardass, Ker."

"Pfft." Kerry keyed her mic. "Okay, I'm back," she said. "Lansing, this is Miami Exec. Please resend the techs up to Browerman and Fine, they're cleared to enter."

"This is Lansing, will do."

Dar heard the driver shift, and she peered past him to see the guards approaching. She put her head back down and typed quickly, her eyes flicking over the sets of numbers that flashed on and off the screen.

The window opened and the guard leaned down to peer in at them. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Kerry closed her mic.

"Which one of you is Paladar Roberts?" the guard asked.

"That'd be me." Dar glanced up, but kept typing. "I'm the jerk who showed up with no ID," she added. "And I am sorry about that."

The guard nodded. "That's posing a big problem for us." He watched Dar nod back. "But the people inside said to let you in with an escort, so I'm going to let you in, with an escort." He patted the window on the driver's side door. "Go on, Jack. We'll send two guys with you, and two guys will meet you at the stairs."

Kerry regarded him with a touch of concern. "Are we that dangerous looking?" she asked.

The guard just shook his head and waved, and the window closed as the driver put the car in gear and edged his way between two other vehicles toward the gates.

"Houston's right." Dar was clicking away. "They're eating up the wires. I'm going to throw some reserve at them."

"Without finding out why?" Kerry questioned.

"Wouldn't even know where to start asking," her partner admitted. "I'm sure it's all TCP/IP encapsulated frantic arm waving and ass covering mixed with legitimate intelligence movement, but there's really no way for me to step in and question it."

Kerry nodded, and went back to the call. "Folks, I'm going to have to drop offline in a few minutes here. If anything comes up, just call my cell and get me back on."

"There." Dar finished her configuration changes, saving them and cutting and pasting a large swath of tiny text into an email message. "I'll tell Houston I did that, but they need to keep it under their hat. I don't want anyone getting the idea we have inexhaustible bandwidth."

"Okay, I'm out," Kerry said, then she closed the phone, peering out of the window. They were pulling past a line of trees, liberally guarded by machine gun toting soldiers. Ahead there was a small parking area, in front of a huge, almost gothic looking building she only vaguely remembered. "Ah. The old executive."

Dar glanced up from her keyboard and looked out the window, peering at the large structure. Then she shook her head and went back to her keyboard. "Almost done."

Kerry ran her fingers through her hair. "There's Hamilton." She indicated the tall, urban figure leaning on the gate in a posture of bored waiting. "I have to admit, I'm pretty glad to see him given where we are."

Dar shut the laptop and leaned over to slide it into Kerry's briefcase. "Me too," she admitted briefly. "But don't let him know that."

The car pulled to a halt, and two soldiers approached immediately, signaling the vehicle following them. "Please wait and don't open the doors," the driver warned. "Let the soldiers do it."

"Sure." Dar leaned back and twiddled her fingers, as she watched the soldiers approach cautiously as though she was some sort of hyper technical land shark. It kept her mind off what waited for them though, and she only smiled at the man who opened the door, staying still until he realized she was pretty much harmless.

"Thank you ma'am, you can get out," the soldier said, courteously. "Sorry about that, we're a little tense here today."

"I completely understand." Dar swung her legs out and got up, surprising the soldier when she straightened to her full height that topped his by a few inches. She closed the door and paused, as Kerry made her way around behind the car to join her, then they started off toward the gates and their waiting corporate lawyer.

The two soldiers walked along side them. Both were young, but not too young, and they both had five o'clock shadows that probably had started sometime the previous afternoon. They looked tired. Dar suddenly felt empathy for them that she hadn't expected. "Hang in there guys." She told the one to her right. "I know it's been rough."

The soldier looked at her, his shoulders shifting into a more relaxed posture. "Thanks, ma'am."

They crossed the street and Hamilton pushed off his post and came to meet them. "Well, hello there ladies."

"Good morning, Mr. Baird," Kerry greeted him politely.

"Hamilton. Good to see you," Dar chimed in.

"Thanks for coming down."

The lawyer seemed to be more subdued than usual. "Good to see you both," he said. "Let's go see what this hoohah is all about."

They started up the steps. "Sorry about my father," Dar commented. "I'm not sure he realized how big his audience was."

Hamilton chuckled. "Darlin', he's your father. Of course he realized. But he's a gorgeous old salt so it didn't bother me a bit." He glanced to either side at their silent escort. "Ain't enough like him and any how my mama raised me to be proud of being a coon ass."

"I don't think he meant it as an insult," Dar smiled. "Not from where we came from."

The lawyer laughed. "Lord I hope they don't regret asking us into this place." He waited for Dar and Kerry to enter the big doorway then followed before the soldiers could. "Sorry boys, beauty and treachery before virtue. "

The soldiers bumped into the frame in their haste to follow. "Sir! Ma'am! Wait!"

Kerry shifted the strap on her briefcase and shook her head, resisting the urge to move faster just to get to the end of the waiting. "Going to be one of those mornings."

DAR HAD HER hands stuck in her pockets, her head tipped back a little as she studied the shelves full of books in the room they'd been shuffled off to.

Kerry was sitting at a mahogany table behind her, working on her laptop as Hamilton spoke softly into his cell phone on the other side of the room.

Hurry up and wait, was that the tactic? Dar rocked up and down on her heels. In the distance, she could hear the muffled sounds of activity, the halls they'd been walked through to this waiting room had been full of men and women rapidly moving from one place to another, all with grim, intent faces.

Hamilton joined her at the shelves. "Al just buzzed me. He's still hanging around in that lovely airport of yours," he informed her. "But he does think he's going to get to sit on an airplane in the next twenty minutes."

Dar glanced at him. "Given how screwed up everything is, can't really expect flights to be taking off on schedule. He's probably going to get on something that's supposed to be in New York."

The corporate lawyer nodded. "It's a fine mess," he agreed. "But listen, thanks by the by for taking care of old Al through all this. He said you were just a peach."

Dar's brow lifted sharply.

"In an Al sort of way," Hamilton conceded, with a smile. "And speaking of, shall we play this as a bad cop with a worse cop routine? Neither you, nor I, are going to be mistaken for a good cop any time soon."

Dar pointed over her own shoulder with her thumb. "Brought the good cop," she explained succinctly. "Though the way she was telling off some senior senator last night I'm not sure they want to piss her off."

"With any luck they'll all realize they've got a lunch date and leave us alone," Hamilton said. "I do think what I am hearing about them being all up in their shorts at us is making me itch in places men should not."

Dar folded her arms. "I gotta agree with that. I don't know what the hell they think they're mad at. I've had a thousand people working round the clock for two days busting their asses to keep everyone's pie plates spinning. What damn more do they want?"

They both turned as the door opened, and a lot of footsteps echoed into the room just ahead of a crowd of men. "I do believe we're going to find out," Hamilton said. "C'mon, Igor. Let's go be bad."

Dar was already heading toward the table where Kerry was seated, since the group of men who had entered the room were also headed in that direction. She got in front of them before they reached her partner, bringing them up short as she simply stepped into the way and blocked it. "Gentlemen."

She missed the sweetly amused expression on Kerry's face as she looked up and observed this bit of unconscious chivalry, and it only lasted a moment before Kerry removed her ear buds and stood up as Hamilton joined her.

The man in the lead, a slim, tall, dark haired guy in a suit in his mid forties or so, took a step back and held his hand up to stop the crowd. "Are you Roberts?"

"Yes." Dar stuck her hands in her pockets and regarded him. "And you are?"

"John Franklin," the man said. "I'm from the NSA. Now, you listen to me--"

"Hold up." Dar didn't raise her voice. She put her hands back in her pockets and tilted her head a little, regarding the man carefully. "Can we discuss a few ground rules before we start swinging?"

Franklin frowned. "I don't think you understand the situation here."

"I do." Dar answered, in the same even, almost gentle tone. "You obviously want something from me. Since I'm as horrified as any other American over what happened two days ago, and since I'm from a military family, chances are I want to do whatever's in my power to help you in whatever your problem is."

"Well, okay." Franklin's posture moderated. He leaned back a trifle, shifting his weight to his back foot.

"So please don't start out by yelling and trying to browbeat me," Dar said. "I don't respond well to threats, so chances are you'll have a lot faster results if you just tell me what you need, let me see what I can do to give it to you."

Franklin motioned the rest of his group to sit down. He put his briefcase on the table across from where Kerry was standing and rested his hands on the handle of it. "All right, Ms. Roberts we can try that route."

"Great." Dar pulled a chair out and sat down, patting the one next to her which Kerry promptly took. "This is our vice president of operations, Kerrison Stuart, and our senior corporate legal counsel, Hamilton Baird."

Franklin nodded at them. "Mr. Baird. Ms. Stuart." He opened his briefcase, as the rest of the men with him settled at tables nearby. One stayed by the door, as though guarding it. "This is what we need." He took out a folder and opened it. "We need you to turn over the operation of all your computer systems to us."

Dar didn't answer. She tipped her head back and looked at Hamilton, one of her eyebrows lifting. "I think this is your gig."

"I think you're right," the lawyer agreed, with a smile. "Mr. Franklin." He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, clasping his hands. "If that was, in fact, a serious request, we can end this discussion right now, and I'll go call my office so they can start burping up little baby lawyers to handle all the paperwork for the lawsuits."

Kerry folded her hands together and kept quiet. She watched Franklin's face as he stared at Hamilton, and noted that neither the lawyer nor her partner appeared in any way tense.

Amazing. Mostly because Kerry knew Dar was strung up like a horse about to start the Kentucky Derby, and she could feel the faint vibration of her muscles through the kneecap that was firmly in contact with her own.

"What on earth would make you even think we'd consider that?" Kerry asked, to break the silence. "Mr. Franklin, the government pays us a lot of money to do what we do. What makes you think that we would betray that trust and those contracts, and that you have anyone who could take over them even if we would?"

"Look," he said. "They're just computers. You're not rocket scientists."

Dar rolled her head to one side, and chuckled. Kerry turned and regarded her. "You could be a rocket scientist," she remarked. "But in answer to your statement, Mr. Franklin, no. They're not just computers. You don't really even understand what we do."

"I understand very well what you do," Franklin protested. "We need to have those computers. We have to be able to see everything."

Dar stood up, and rested her fingers on the desk. "Are you talking about the Virginia facility?"

"Yes," Franklin said. "We went there. We were supposed to meet Ms. Stuart there, but she never showed up."

"I did," Kerry said. "I was there for hours. You were the ones who never showed up."

The tension was rising. Hamilton lazily removed his hand from his pocket, displaying a tape recorder. "Just so we're all on the same page."

"We don't have any government computers in the Virginia facility," Dar said. "What we do there is move data traffic between a number of government offices, mostly for the purposes of accounting. Can you explain to me what the national security need is to see that?"

"Okay," Franklin remained calm. "We think there are people, maybe a lot of people, here in the United States who have been here for a while, and who are working behind the scenes to promote terrorist activities."

Hamilton cleared his throat. "I do have to remind you there have always been people inside these United States who work behind the scenes to promote all kinds of agendas."

"This is not a joke," Franklin frowned at him.

"That's a fine thing, because I am not joking Those very same people, starting way back in the 1700's, have included the Continental Congress and lots of crazy half frozen men up in Massachusetts who used to run around in wigs and short pants setting fire to Tory underwear and dumping tea in Boston Harbor."

"Sir."

"That is not a joke, mister," Hamilton's voice got louder. "In case you grew up in Arkansas and didn't get history books in school, this country was born in terrorism. It ain't nothing new." He leaned forward on the table. "So please don't start waving the flag at me saying my company's got to do this illegal thing and that illegal thing because of this new fangled scary threat. "

"What we're asking is certainly not illegal. I have the request right here, signed by the president's Chief of Staff." Franklin took out a paper and pushed it across the desk. "We are to be given access to everything."

Dar let Hamilton take the paper and study it. "Who is performing the access?" she asked.

Franklin turned, and indicated the men with him. "This is my team," he said, with a hint of a smile.

Dar studied the first of them. "What do you do?"

"Data analysis," he responded promptly. "Myself, David, and Carl here are senior data analysts."

"Robert and I are database specialists," the man next to him promptly supplied.

Dar nodded slowly. "Any of you network engineers?" she asked. "Infrastructure specialists? Layer 3 people?"

The men looked at each other, then at Franklin.

"No," Franklin said. "We don't do that."

"We do that." Kerry picked up the ball from her partner. "That's what we do in the Virginia facility. "

"Gentlemen and beautiful ladies." Hamilton pushed the paper back over. "That's legally worth about as much as a one legged man in an ass kicking contest," he stated bluntly. "Nothing in there applies to us. We're not letting you put a pinky in the door."

Kerry could sense an explosion waiting to happen. She put her hand out, and touched Franklin's arm. "What actually are you looking for?" she asked. "Accounting records? You know it's probably going to be easier if you apply directly to the offices that generate them."

"That takes too long," Franklin said. "We don't have time for all the red tape."

Hamilton looked at him. "Are you saying it's just easier to browbeat a contractor?"

"I can get the president to write an executive order to have the army take over your office," Franklin said. "I don't really care what you say at this meeting, we'll get in there, and we'll get what we want. If you want to end up in jail today, that's okay with me. I don't like you. You people are just trash, and you're in my way. "

Hamilton looked over at Dar. "Darlin', I think this is your gig."

"I think you're right," Dar agreed. She turned back to Franklin. "Okay, jackass," she said. "I don't give a shit whose weenie you're swinging off of. Jesus Christ couldn't get into my systems unless I wanted him to, so you go ahead, and go get whatever orders your heart desires because trust me buddy, they mean jack nothing to me."

"You really don't understand," Franklin said. "I'm going to have you arrested."

"For what?" Dar asked.

"I don't need anything specific. Not anymore," the NSA man said. "You don't get it. The rules all changed. We don't care if what we're doing is illegal, we'll just change the laws." He stared at Dar. "We don't care. I will wreck you, and wreck your family, and wreck your company if you don't do what I want, because I can. I can do anything. So you better decide you're going to take us back to that office, open up everything, and just get the hell out of my way or--"

"Or," Dar said, a short explosion of sound. "Arrest me, Comrade. Take me to the gulag."

Both Kerry and Hamilton remained absolutely silent.

"That's not funny."

"Neither is what you just said," Dar shot back. "That I have no rights? That as an American citizen I can be tossed in jail for no reason, with no charges, with no recourse because I won't break the law for you? That's your new world? Someone point me out the nearest foreign embassy. I've got a passport to burn."

Franklin was breathing hard. "We're at war," he said.

"My father is a retired Navy Seal," Dar said. "What the hell do you know about war he didn't teach me before I was out of grade school?" She leaned on her hands on the table, looking him right in the eye. "You can arrest me, you can toss me in the gulag, you can scream and rant and rave and weenie waggle right across the White House lawn. You will not get into those systems."

Franklin stood, and they stared at each other.

"Excuse me." Kerry held up her hand. "Can I ask a question here?" She didn't wait for permission, suspecting correctly it wouldn't be forthcoming. "If you're looking for terrorist financial activities, why are you looking for them in the records of the civil service health plan, or the department of state payroll instead of asking the credit card companies to help you?"

Everyone turned around and looked at Kerry.

"Do you really think the general accounting office is full of Taliban?" Kerry persisted. "Or NASA's website?"

"What did you say about the credit card companies?" Franklin asked, slowly.

"Lord, I swear." Hamilton sighed, and put his head down on one fist. "It's enough to make a man want to move to Japan."

"If you really want to find people who are trying to do bad things, then you should look at things they buy. I don't think people can bring things like bombs into the country," Kerry said. "But they can buy things to make bombs and those places they buy them have to have records of it."

"We understand that," Franklin said. "We know more about it than you apparently give us credit for."

"Okay," Kerry said. "Then I'm sure you're already in touch with the major retailers and the credit card clearinghouses, right? I'm sure you've asked them to cross reference charges for whatever it is that interests you? Like phosphorous or whatever."

"Or flight lessons," Dar chimed in. "I'm sure they've already thought of that Kerry, if they're here asking us to review the traffic to the National Park service."

"Stay here." Franklin got up and motioned for a man to follow him, as he left the room, walking quickly.

There was a small silence after he left. Dar bumped Kerry on the shoulder then turned to Hamilton. "Now what?"

The lawyer was already on his cell phone. "I'm calling in some backup. This ain't even slightly funny."

KERRY CLASPED HER hands, wishing she could continue working just to pass the time if nothing else. But Dar and Hamilton had told her to close her laptop down and get off the call, both of them keyed and nervous in front of the eyes of the watching men around them.

Dar was pacing around in back of her. Hamilton was across the room, his head bent over his cell phone, muttering in a low Louisiana accent that obscured all meaning from whatever it was he was saying.

Kerry sighed and looked around the room again, her irritation at the whole situation creeping slowly toward a breaking point.

She could feel Dar's agitation, and her nape hairs prickled just as she sensed her partner turning and heading toward her seat, the rush of energy making her eyes blink a little.

"Okay," Dar's voice lifted, catching everyone's attention. "That's long enough. We've got work to do."

Kerry gathered herself up, getting her hiking boots under her as she prepared to stand up, guessing rightly that Dar intended on leaving.

"I don't think that's a good idea," one of the men said.

"I don't think you think," Dar shot right back. "So unless you're going to pull a gun and keep us here, move the hell out of the way." She tapped Kerry on the back and waited for her to rise, then started for the door

"And if you all are going to pull that gun, you better make sure you shoot to kill and hide the bodies," Hamilton joined Dar as she got to the aisle.

"Because you ain't ever going to get loose of the legal trouble if you don't, I guarantee it."

"Listen Mister--"

"Listen Mister is a Louisiana lawyer, son." Hamilton waved a hand in his direction. "I ain't fooling with you. I have half the legal staff of ILS, which is bigger than most of your government departments heading here with torts and complaints enough to half bury this building. We ain't talking any more to you. Tell your lawyers to call me."

Kerry decided she really didn't have much to add to the conversation. She merely shouldered her briefcase and stuck close to her partner, resisting the urge to latch on to the back of Dar's belt. The whole situation was scaring her, and she felt very glad to be tucked behind Dar's tall form in relative safety.

"Agent Franklin said for you to stay here," the man said. "I think it's a good idea for you to do that. You don't want to get him pissed off at you." He was standing in their path, both hands raised, palms outward. "We're not going to do anything ridiculous like take guns out, but this is a serious situation, and it's in your best interests just to stay put until he gets back."

"No." Dar kept going. "It's in the best interests of our customers, which includes a lot of you, for us to get out of here and get on with doing our jobs." She squared her shoulders and looked the man right in the eye. "We're not going to do what you asked us to, no matter how long we stay."

"Well, now, just think about this a minute--" The man took a step backwards, toward the door as the three of them bore down on him. "We're not asking."

The door opened behind him before Dar could come up with any more bullshit responses. She looked past the man to see Franklin entering, but from the expression on his face, she wasn't sure now what was going on.

"Sir, but--let me explain." Franklin was coming in sideways. "I have a mandate!" He tried to hold the door shut but someone was pushing it open from the other side. "Sir!"

"Get the hell out of my way you little weasel!" a gruff, older voice answered. "Take your useless bunch of yuppies with you."

Hamilton and Dar exchanged glances. "This is getting ticklier than an octopus with athlete's foot," Hamilton said. "It's never boring around you, is it? Now I know why Al went to New York and sent me here. The man was probably exhausted."

Kerry edged up next to her partner for a better view. The NSA agents had stood and now they were milling a little, looking nervously at the door.

It was shoved open, and Franklin got out of the way as a tall, grizzled haired man entered, sweeping the room with his eyes.

"Ah." He put his hands on his hips. "Which one of you is Roberts?"

Dar lifted her hand and let it fall.

"You stupid bastard." The older man turned on Franklin. "We've been waiting on this damned person since yesterday, and you're dicking around with her in here? Get the hell out of my sight."

"SIR!" Franklin bravely raised his voice. "I have a MANDATE."

"I don't give a damn!" the man shouted right back. "You had a mandate to keep the country safe too, and you didn't do that either! Now get out!"

"Oo." Kerry muttered under her breath.

"You've got no right to say that!" Franklin stood up to him. "You didn't do anything either!"

Hamilton leaned closer. "Ya'll think we should take this opportunity to skedaddle?"'

"I dunno," Dar whispered back. "I think that's the guy who told Gerry to find me."

"That's enough," the older man said. "You folks, you IT people. Come with me." He gestured to Dar and company. "Franklin, I'd start packing. Take your hair brained schemes somewhere else."

Selecting the better part of valor, Dar led the way to the door, passing behind the older man and escaping out into the hallway with a sense of relief. Even if it was momentary, and she was about to dive from the pan into the fire.

"Absolute disaster." The older man slammed the door and turned to them. "Michael Bridges, advisor to the President," he said. "Where the hell have you people been? We expected you last night."

Dar studied him. "Long story," she said. "You want to hear it, or just get down to business?"

Bridges studied her in return. Then he snorted a little. "Let's go." He pointed down the hallway. They walked along, moving from side to side to avoid the throngs of busy people who seemed to be going in every direction possible.

"So you're a friend of Easton's, eh?" Bridges asked.

"Family friend, yes," Dar agreed. "This is my vice president of operations, Kerrison Stuart, by the way, and our senior corporate legal council, Hamilton Baird."

Bridges spared them a bare glance. "Had to bring a lawyer with you? I told Easton I only wanted you here. Bastard."

"Mamma always called me a son of a bitch, matter of fact." Hamilton smiled at him. "But thanks for the compliment."

"Meant Easton." The older man frowned at him. "Don't get all smartass with me."

"Based on the conversation in that room, I don't intend on going to the bathroom here without a lawyer." Dar interjected, suspecting their legal council was about to get downright Cajun on the man. "I've had people from the government asking me to break contracts and break laws for two days."

"Hmph." Bridges indicated a door, and shoved his way through it scattering secretaries on the other side like birds before a cat. "Move it! Get that damn conference room cleared!"

Dar paused before she entered the room, letting her eyes flick over it and noting the smoked glass panels in the ceiling. In the center of the room was a large, oval wooden conference table, with comfortable leather chairs surrounding it.

In the back of the room was a mahogany credenza, looking completely out of place against the lighter wood of the conference table, and the cream leather of the chairs. It had doors in it that were flung back to reveal a large screen television, and playing on the screen, unsurprisingly, was CNN.

Dar wondered, briefly, if most of the government didn't get their information from the same place its citizens did. "All hail Ted Turner."

"What was that?" Bridges got to the head of the table and dropped into the seat there, conspicuously larger and more comfortable looking than the rest. He was dressed in a pair of pleated slacks and had a white button down shirt on, but the sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose enough to reveal an open top neck button. "Sit. Margerie, close the damn door."

One of the secretaries looked inside and nodded, then shut the door behind her. It blocked out most of the noise in the office, but not all of it.

"All right." Bridges leaned on his forearms. He was probably in his sixties, and had a long, lined face with thick gray eyebrows and light hazel eyes. "I'm not sure if you people know how the government works."

Kerry held her hand up. "I have some idea," she remarked, in a quiet tone. "But you know, Mr. Bridges, I don't think this situation has anything to do with how the government works," she went on. "Mr. Franklin told us the rule book got thrown out the window. Is that true?"

Bridges looked at Dar, then at Hamilton, then he studied Kerry. "Where the hell do I know you from?" He asked, instead of answering the question. "You look familiar."

"Thanksgivings at my parent's house," Kerry replied. "We didn't sit at the same table though."

Bridges blinked then his brows knit. "Oh, son of a bitch. You're Roger's kid, aren't you?" He asked sounding surprised. "What in the hell are you doing here? Ah, never mind." He turned back to Dar. "We're wasting time. Here's the deal."

Kerry settled back in her seat, lacing her fingers together. She remembered Bridges, all right. A mover and shaker that even her father had respected, rude and brash to her mother, a most unwelcome guest.

Not someone she'd really wanted to get involved with.

"I imagine you know all about the damage to all that technical stuff in New York," Bridges said. "That's all your company's business."

"Not exactly," Hamilton broke in. "Just want to get that cleared up. That ain't all ours."

"That's right," Dar agreed. "We do have some customers affected there, but most of the business infrastructure there isn't ours."

"You finished talking?" Bridges asked. "Yes? Good." He leaned on his forearms again. "I don't give a damn if it was yours or Martha Stewarts to begin with. The problem is it's broke."

Dar shrugged, and nodded. "It's broken," she agreed. "What does that have to do with us?"

"Well, I'll tell you," Bridges said. "I called all those bastard phone company people into this office, and they all told me the same thing. Sure, they can fix it, but it's going to take time." He studied Dar's face intently. "They gave me all kinds of BS excuses why. Now--" He held up a hand as Dar started to speak. "I'm not an idiot. I know two goddamn buildings at least fell on top of all that stuff. Don't bother saying it."

Dar subsided, then lifted both her hands and let them drop. "Okay. So they told you it would take time to fix. It will. They're not lying about that."

"I know," the president's advisor said. "The issue is it can't."

Kerry rubbed her temples. "Mr. Bridges, that's like saying the sun can't rise tomorrow because it would be inconvenient. There's a physical truth to this. It takes time to build rooms, and run wires, and make things work."

"I know," Bridges said. "But the fact is it can't take time. I have to open the markets on Monday. That stuff has to work by Sunday so those idiot bankers can test everything. We have to do it, Ms. Roberts. I'm not being an asshole for no purpose here. If we don't restore confidence in the financial system, we stand to lose a hell of a lot more than a couple hundred stories of office space housed in ugly architecture."

There was a small silence after that. Bridges voice faded off into faint echoes. Dar tapped her thumbs together and pondered, reading through the lines and in between his gruff tones and seeing a truth there she understood.

Alastair had understood, immediately. There was a lot at stake.

"Why me?" Dar asked, after a long moment. "You had all the Telco's in here. It's their gear. It's their pipe. It's their equipment. They have to do the work. What the hell do you want from me in all this? I don't have a damn magic wand."

"Ah." Bridges pursed his lips. "Well, fair enough.

You're right. It's not your stuff. Your company has nothing to do with the whole thing, other than being a customer of those guys who were in here. But the fact of the matter is, when I squeezed their balls hard enough, what popped out of the guys from AT&T was that if I wanted this done in that amount of time, come see you."

"Me." Dar started laughing. "Oh shit. Give me a break."

Hamilton had his chin resting on one hand, and he was simply watching and listening, the faintest of twitches at the corners of his lips.

"Why is that, Ms. Roberts?" Bridges asked. "I don't really know who the hell you are, or what your company does, except that it keeps coming up in the oddest conversations around here about who knew what when and how people who work for you keep showing up in the right places with the right stuff."

"Well now," Hamilton spoke up for the first time. "What old Dar here's going to say is she's damned if she knows why, but fact is, I do," he drawled. "It's in our portfolio, matter of fact. "

"Hamilton." Dar eyed him. "Shut up."

"Dar, you know I love you more than my luggage." The lawyer chuckled. "Mr. Bridges." He turned to the advisor. "Those gentlemen from our old friends American Telegraph and Telephone told you that because they know from experience standing in front of hurricane Dar here is one way to get your shorts blown right off your body and get strangled by them." He ignored Dar's murderous look. "She just doesn't take no for an answer."

Bridges got up and went to the credenza, removing a pitcher and pouring himself a glass from it. "I see." He turned. "Is that true, Ms. Roberts?"

Dar drummed her fingers on the table. "When it suits my goals, yes," she said, finally. "I've been known to be somewhat persistent."

Kerry covered her eyes with one hand, biting the inside of her lip hard to keep from laughing. She could sense Dar peeking over at her and worked hard to regain her composure.

"All right." Bridges sat back down. "So. What's it going to cost me then? I won't waste my time appealing to your patriotism."

Dar was silent for a long moment again. "You could," she said, looking him right in the eye. "Appeal to my patriotism. What makes you think I don't have any?"

"Just a hunch," Bridges said. "You don't seem the type."

Dar's eyes narrowed a trifle. "Do the country a favor," she said. "Flush your hunches down the toilet if they're all that worthless." She got up. "Unfortunately for everyone, my patriotism doesn't count in this case. There is nothing I can do to fix what's broken. I don't own any of the infrastructure, none of those companies has any reason to do me any favors, and that union tangled century's old mess down at the tip of Manhattan is way beyond my skills to sort out in three days no matter who says yes or no. It can't be done."

Bridges leaned on his knuckles and stared at her. "Can't be done?"

"Can't be done," Dar said. "But for a price, I'll give it my best try."

The advisor sat down.

Kerry felt like she was watching a game of tennis, where the volley was getting faster and faster and the ball was a small thermonuclear device. She had no idea where Dar was going with all this, and it had been a while since she'd seen her partner in this kind of a mood.

It was almost like watching a stranger. Dar was focused, and her eyes were like chips of crystal, with no emotion at all in them.

"What's your price?" Bridges asked, in a sardonic tone. "Maybe I'll try to pay it if you're only going to try and do what I'm asking."

"Get the NSA off my ass," Dar said, ticking one finger off. "Give my people clearance to get into the city." She ticked a second finger off. "Give me some kind of leverage to get through the politics. I'll give it my best shot. You get whatever you get out of it. Maybe it'll work. Maybe it won't."

The advisor rested his forearms on the table again and gazed at her, with a slightly puzzled look. "What's in it for you, then?" he asked. "What do you get out of it?"

Dar managed the faintest of smiles. "Service to my country," she answered, in a quiet tone. "It's the right thing to do, no matter how impossible it is."

"You really don't think it's possible," Bridges mused. "Everyone agrees with that, even the president. He wanted me to find some way to fake it." He looked up to find three sets of eyes staring at him in disbelief, and he shrugged in response. "Ms. Stuart will tell you just how much of the government is smoke and mirrors, I'm sure."

Kerry cleared her throat gently. "That's true," she said. "But we aren't smoke and mirrors. If Dar commits us to this, we'll go at it a hundred percent."

Bridges nodded. "Cheap enough price," he said. "All right, Ms. Roberts, do we have a deal? "

"I guess we do." Dar looked at Hamilton, who burst into laughter.

That seemed to strike Bridges funny too, and he chuckled. "Now I understand what Easton told me." He stood up. "Get out of here, people. I have an unending pile of crap to put on a potter's wheel and make into china."

They were glad enough to escape, slipping out the door and evading the flock of secretaries, emerging into the hallway where the pace hadn't slowed a bit.

Hamilton steered them over to a corner out of the flow and they all took a minute to catch their breaths.

"That," Kerry finally said, "was seriously freaky."

"Got us out of the way of the spooks," Hamilton commented. "And Dar, no jokes here, darling. That was some good shuck and jive in that room. couldn't have negotiated a better deal."

Dar exhaled, and shook her head. "Let's get out of here," she said. "I don't know what the hell I just got us into, but I sure don't want to spend any more time in this place. Let's go somewhere and scratch together a plan."

Kerry spotted Franklin heading down the hall in their direction. She grabbed Dar's arm. "Great idea. C'mon He hadn't had a chance to talk to Bridges yet."

They did, heading around a corner, and down a hall, hoping they ended up somehow at an outside door without getting into any more trouble.