Cloud Rebel (R-D #3)(65)

Chapter 14

Notes—Colonel Hunter

"You're saying there was some sort of antidetection device on those drones? That nothing we have could detect them? Where did that technology come from? Somebody's ass?" the President shouted.

Matt and I sat in a meeting with the President and the Joint Chiefs, where blame-laying and finger-pointing prevailed and sensible discussion hadn't been invited.

I understood quickly that the President didn't want to hear what Matt and I had to say—he wanted to mire himself in mundane, Earthly excuses for the attacks instead of considering where they'd likely originated.

The presence of technology that had nothing to do with what could currently be produced on our planet failed to interest him.

"Right now, it doesn't matter where it came from," Navy pointed out. "What we have to do is a study to determine how to prevent an attack here."

"How long do you think that study will take?" Air Force broke in. "Months? We don't have months. Hell, we may not have hours, the way things look to me."

"I say we go in and bomb the hell out of Iraq and Syria to put an end to this once and for all," Army snapped.

"Because that's your answer for everything," Marines countered. "You just want to make a mess that my boys will have to clean up."

"I've already got my people watching the coastline for suspicious or unusual activity," Coast Guard said. "It's the best I could do with the limited time I've had."

"That's the best thing I've heard so far in this meeting," Matt said. "What are the rest of you doing—or plan to do? I'm coordinating with Homeland, the FBI and state officials across the country. They're looking for any unusual activity, now. They could probably use some help, too."

"Mr. President, the country is waiting for you to make a statement," I said during the ensuing lull.

"Yeah—I'll get to that," he waved off my suggestion.

I watched Matt rub his forehead—the country was terrified and the President was having a psychotic episode. A perfect pairing for chaos. "I've had requests for interviews," I added. "I can't do that without official word from the White House as to the plans put in place to combat this potential menace."

"Just tell them we're employing every resource to keep the country safe," the President mumbled.

"Mr. President, those journalists will want specifics," Matt tapped a finger on the table. "They want us to spell out exactly what we intend to do to keep the people safe. You have resources in this room that can help with that. They're just waiting for you to tell them what you want to do."

"Put together a plan of action. All of you. Meet me here tomorrow at the same time. We'll hammer out something then." I watched as the President rose from his chair, forcing the rest of us to our feet. He walked out, leaving us to glance warily at our neighbors.

The leader of our country was disintegrating before our eyes.

"Well," Coast Guard sighed, "this is my question. What would Amelia Sanders do?"

"She'd call Corinne," Matt said cryptically.

I jerked my head in a nod.

*

Corinne

The world hadn't improved any while I slept. When Val woke me, I had a request to contact Ilya, a request to contact Auggie and Matt, Keef was still missing and everybody on the planet was waiting for a press conference from the White House, which still hadn't happened. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands were still just as dead across Europe.

"Cori, what are we gonna do?" James whispered as I shuffled into the villa's kitchen. Gerrett, who stood nearby, nodded a greeting to me.

"Honeys," I went to pull both into a hug. "We'll try to sort this out, okay?" I leaned away and peered into both faces. "Because we have to."

"I hear this," Bekzi agreed as he walked past, carrying two bags of groceries. "You sit, we cook."

It was then I realized that lunchtime the following day had arrived, while I'd slept nearly round the clock.

Ilya? I sent.

I am here. We are on for tonight—the President retired early last evening, he said.

Thank goodness, I replied. I just woke up and nothing is better, I added.

I know. If they didn't have me under surveillance every moment, I'd get away for a short visit.

Yeah. I raked hair away from my face, only then considering my appearance. Do you know how Brett and Jen are?

They're keeping us apart, he said, so I cannot say for sure. They're probably worried we'll conspire to escape. I confess; that has crossed my mind many times.

I understand. Do they not even allow you to eat together? A mental hmmph met my question. I guess that's a no, then, I said.

Correct. It concerns me that the President has become so paranoid, he added.

I think Leo can add a full list of psychological disorders behind that one, I said, my sending dry. Hold on, I'll Look to check on Brett and Jen—okay, got it, I said as the information came. Brett is feeling like a caged wolf—no surprise. Jen is concerned over the lack of communication, and she's working on crossword puzzles—somebody gave her a book of those and a pen.

At least one of us can be distracted, then. Tell me what else is happening.

I told him what I knew, which really wasn't much. He considered each piece as it dropped into the puzzle we'd been given. There were still far too many blank spaces to hazard a guess at the full picture.