“What do you mean, you cannot stop it?” Vladimir Dimitrov asked his Executive Officer.
“Our launch control sequence. It has been hacked by an outside source,” the sub’s XO replied.
“Who could do such a thing? The Americans?”
“Unknown.”
“But how is it even possible? At this depth?”
“My only guess, sir, is that it happened during our last radio transmission to the surface.”
“But all of our communication is encrypted. And to infect our systems with a virus over radio transmission, that technology does not even exist.”
“Arguing how it happened is moot at this point, sir. It happened. Right now we must concentrate on finding a way to stop it.”
“How much time?”
“Thirty-nine minutes, sir. Whomever set the clock gave us a small window. They must want something.”
“What?”
“Unknown, sir. There has been no instruction or guidance, no contact from anyone. We have no idea who has done this. Should we contact Mr. Barbolin? The Russian President?” The XO asked.
Dimitrov wavered. If the launch sequence could not be stopped, nuclear war was coming, and his next decision could literally decide the fate of human existence. Ivan “the Barbarian” Barbolin technically owned the OПOРA so technically he should be the one contacted first. But that did not follow normal chain of command.
Normal chain of command required contacting the Russian Navy, which had been at least partially privatized, which meant its motives were no longer solely the safety and security of the Russian state. As far as Dimitrov could recall, a private citizen had never owned a weapon of such immense destructive power.
Dimitrov had never met the Barbarian, but he had heard stories of the man’s quick temper and extreme brutality. And along with the navy’s compromised purpose, the Russian President had sold out his country by his transactions with the Barbarian, so the president could not be trusted.
In the end, it was the Barbarian’s reputation, combined with his complete lack of experience in all things military, that informed Dimitrov’s decision.
“No. We must warn the Americans. We must seek their help.”
“This is what you Americans call a suicide mission,” Masha said as she looked out over the Coalition Fortress complex of buildings.
She, along with Chris, Yaw, Camilla, Nikki, and Joey Nugyen stood in an unoccupied two-bedroom unit of the 14th floor of a rundown apartment building. It was located near the 10 freeway on the far edge of downtown Los Angeles.
“That may be,” Yaw answered as he looked at the Fortress complex from the window, “but I think it’s gonna go down different than that. I think the Coalition is in for a big surprise.”
“I hope that you’re right,” Masha said.
“So what is the plan again?” Chris asked Nikki.
“At 5 p.m., Rika’s going to plug PHOEBE into their system. If PHOEBE does what she’s always done for us, she’ll shut down all cameras and surveillance and open all doors that are locked electronically, allowing us to move freely once inside.
“At the same time, Winn’s old friends will create a disturbance outside the northeast Coalition Fortress entrance gate that LAPD Officers Dino Rodriguez and Ellen Levy respond to. They’ll block off the streets, and get the Fortress guards involved.
“With the surveillance systems down and the guards distracted, that’ll be our opening to get inside the Fortress.”
“Once we’re inside, then what?” Chris asked.
“You guys find Alex and get him out as quickly as you can. I’ll find Rika Muranaka and get her out of there before she’s taken into custody for her actions. PHOEBE should be in control of their entire surveillance and security systems at that point. She’ll carve a path out for you guys. Once you’re all out, I’ll reprogram PHOEBE to take care of the Coalition.”
“What does that mean? Are you really going to have PHOEBE wipe out the Coalition?” Chris asked.
“I’m going to make them accountable for who they really are. Every theft, every lie, every murder, and every culprit behind all their crimes will be exposed to the entire world. The Coalition itself will be forced to confront its choices and pay the price.
“But make no mistake, the Coalition consists of people, and it’s the individuals that make up the institution who will be forced to face their role in all this. They’ll be held accountable for what they’ve really done in front of the whole world.”
“In other words, it’s like they get a face to face with Alex, but it’s the entire Coalition, at the same time, and on a massive scale, for the whole world to see,” Yaw added.
“Something along those lines.”
“Alex would be proud.”
“I did learn from the best.”
“Sounds good to me,” Chris added. He swung his aluminum Kali sticks for emphasis.
“Alex ain’t gonna let it go down like that,” Camilla said.
“What do you mean?” Nikki asked.
“He ain’t gonna let us spring him and then leave you behind.”
“If this goes right, I won’t be far behind you. When we’re done, we’ll meet at the downtown Metro station, and go back to Terminal Island together.”
“If nothing goes wrong,” Joey Nugyen added.
“We’ll be fine.”
“Suicide mission,” Masha reaffirmed, but this time as a declarative. “But what the hell. I’m ready,” she added.
Nikki looked out the 14th floor window at the buildings that made up the Coalition Fortress. As the sun set on the city of Los Angeles, the red orange haze provided an ominous backdrop to the angular horizon.
“I want you all to remember, you have to get Alex out. He’s all that matters moving forward. He is the key to everything, not me,” Nikki added. She looked back over her friends for their reaction.
“I think he’d say the same thing about you,” Yaw replied.
“An argument for a different time. Just get him the hell out of there, and don’t worry about me.”
Glen Turner poured himself a shot of bourbon, lifted the glass tumbler to his lips, and swallowed the liquid in one gulp.
He grimaced as the alcohol burned the back of his throat. His stomach churned, and not just from the bourbon. He was dealing with an apocalypse-level hacker in Nicole Ellis, he had been played by his Russian rival Ivan “the Barbarian” Barbolin, and he couldn’t help but suspect that the one man he wished would just go away, Alex Luthecker, was somehow behind it all.
The search for Ivan Barbolin’s nuclear submarine had proven fruitless so far, and Turner had to admit that, even with Coalition war machines and surveillance technology searching the Pacific, the odds were against him locating the vessel the longer the search took.
There was always the option of causing an international incident by moving Coalition backed U.S. Navy nuclear subs within striking range of Russia and putting it out on the world stage for all to see, but that would not get Turner any closer to his goal—to get back to running the world’s largest corporate superpower, without the needless distractions and petty brinksmanship, all seemingly caused by one man currently being held in a Coalition prison cell.
Turner had been steadfast in his refusal to be caught in the same trap as his two predecessors, Richard Brown and James Howe, in dealing with someone who held no real power like Alex Luthecker. Yet here he was.
Turner was baffled by everyone’s fascination and obsession with the con man-soothsayer, but no matter how much he tried to avoid dealing with Luthecker, it had proven inevitable for Turner, and now the Coalition leader feared it would cost him his chairmanship.
The Coalition CEO would think nothing of getting it over with and killing the young man, but he couldn’t because of the cyber-crises Luthecker’s girlfriend, of all people, had created for him. He needed Luthecker alive for leverage against the terrorist hacker Ellis.
But once the cyber threat presented by PHOEBE was gone, Turner would have them all killed—Luthecker, Ellis, the Barbarian, and perhaps all of Luthecker’s friends.
Turner felt that events had conspired against him ever since he took over as the Coalition leader, and he couldn’t catch a break. And normally reliable, if not adversarial, business partner Ivan Barbolin’s obsession with Luthecker only added to the problem, and that was in addition to the extinction-obsessed scientist Mark Kirby’s constant annoyance.
“Shit,” Turner said to himself.
In the mad scramble after the revelation of Ivan’s nuclear threat, he had completely forgotten about Mark Kirby. He stepped away from the bar in his office and hit the speakerphone line to his executive assistant.
“Find Mark Kirby, and get him in here,” Turner screamed.
“Actually, he’s just arrived, sir, and he says he needs to see you.”
“I think you should talk to him,” Kirby said to the Coalition CEO.
“Why?”
“Well, you might be able to find out where that Russian sub is, for starters.”
“I don’t think he has that kind of knowledge.”
“Well he ripped apart that Russian oligarch pretty good, and he knew about the sub then. He could give you insight into a lot of things that have been bothering you, I’ll bet. And maybe give you a few solutions while he’s at it.”
“If I want that, I’ll talk to a shrink. But what’s your angle? Why are you suggesting this? Did he convert you? Are you a believer now?”
Kirby eyed the bar. “Can I get a drink?”
Turner gave Kirby a brief wave in the affirmative.
“You know my angle. I want all of Coalition Properties resources dedicated to stopping the extinction of humanity,” Kirby said as he made his way to the mini bar. “That’s the only battle left worth fighting.”
“You sold me on your pitch. I’ve already told you that I’ll give you what you need.”
“You threw me a bone in hopes that I’d go away.”
“If you come up with something actionable you get more, if you don’t you fade into obscurity. That’s the way the world works, doctor.”
“The evidence is indisputable, and the solutions are clear. All you really wanted was for me to find Luthecker. Well I found him, and I brought him to you, just like I told you I would. And now I’m telling you that all of this would be a whole lot easier for you if you’d just talk to him.”
“Look—I’ve made it clear that I have no desire to speak with Luthecker.”
“Why not? It’s not like your beliefs can be rattled, right? He couldn’t possibly change the way you think, and Coalition Properties is too big to fail. So what are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid. I just don’t buy into the hype. And talking to him just validates him. It’s buying into the hype.”
“You do realize that just entertaining the conversation with me right now means you’ve bought in. You can’t avoid it. Coalition Properties can’t avoid it. It’s the organization’s destiny. That means it’s your destiny. There’s far too much momentum behind that collision to stop it now. Whether you play along or not, he’s playing you already.”
“He’s not playing me. He’s in a cell.”
“You may think he is, but trust me he’s not. The Coalition has held him before and he always got out. And every time he got out, he ghosted you guys, and the Coalition lost big. Maybe you should try and break the pattern. Maybe you should just try talking to him. Otherwise you’ll just lose again.”
“We’re not going to lose. And he’ll get out if and when I say he gets out.”
Kirby shook his head in disbelief at Turner’s response. The man just wasn’t getting it. “Ok, well, then why don’t you just get it over with and kill him then? He’s caused you enough problems, hasn’t he? I mean, what are you waiting for?”
“Coalition Properties does not kill people.”
“Have you forgotten that you’ve threatened to kill me several times already? Or are you so shameless and arrogant that reality means nothing to you people anymore?
“We both know that the Coalition kills people. Its primary business is defense weapons, for god’s sake. What was it, close to thirty thousand children under the age of sixteen died in Iraq? From your weapons?
“You wrap that lethal reality in sophisticated propaganda and then tie it all to national interest to justify all of the killing you do. And we all either buy it or ignore it, and go about our day. We’re all just as guilty as you, but we’re in denial of it.
“It’s no mystery why our species is headed for extinction. We’re making it happen in real time by replacing reality with ideology. But I’ll tell you why you really won’t talk to him. It’s not because you don’t want to buy into the hype. It’s because you’re just beginning to see the level of his impact, and you don’t want to acknowledge it.
“You’re happy with your denial. We all are. And that’s the threat he brings. Removing the ability to deny. And you are desperately afraid of that.”
“I don’t give a shit about him. And there’s nothing he can allegedly do that we won’t be able to do soon through technology, by the way. Coalition technology we own. So I don’t need him.
“I just have a hacking problem right now, and as soon as I have his girlfriend, I’ll leverage his freedom, I’ll leverage his very life so she stops her program from truly ending the world as we know it.
“But make no mistake, after that threat is eliminated, I don’t need either one of them. He’ll be free to go, and you’ll be free to commiserate with him all you like about existential threats while the Coalition handles the real ones,” Turner said, the last part being a lie.
There was no way he was letting Luthecker go. Kirby either, or the Barbarian.
But then out of frustration Turner added, “You know, this guy would be nothing if people would just stop paying attention to him.”
“People say exactly the same thing about ideas,” Kirby shot back. “And history’s shown that ideas are very, very hard to kill.”
“He’s not an idea, he’s just one man. And I thought you wanted a chance at him. So why don’t you speak with him then if you think he’s so profound.”
Kirby searched the bar for a bottle of Perrier. He smiled in victory when he found one.
He opened the bottle and poured himself a glass of the sparkling water. “I have spoken with him. Why do you think I’m here right now?”
“You were not authorized to go in that room.”
“I felt it had to be done. If you weren’t so damn afraid of him, you would have seen that coming. That’s what fear does, by the way. Gives you tunnel vision. When Ivan the oligarch got the jump on you, and you had to, I don’t know, stop a nuclear attack, no one was around to mind the store so to speak, so I took the liberty.”
“What did he say to you?”
“I thought you didn’t care. I thought you said if everyone just ignored him, he’d go away. How’s that working out for you?”
“Are you looking to be handcuffed to a table again?”
“He convinced me that we’re all in this together. And he told me to tell you that you need to talk to him.”
The entry door to Turner’s office burst open, and his executive secretary stepped through.
“I’m in a meeting,” Turner snapped in response. The look on his secretary’s face changed his tone. “What is it?” He asked.
“You have a very urgent phone call.”
“From who?”
“A Captain Vladimir Dimitrov from the Russian sub OПOРA.”
Muranaka sat at her desk and moved to turn on her computer.
“Where’ve you been?” Michael Chan asked, nearly giving Muranaka a heart attack.
She turned to find Chan standing in her office doorway. “Jesus, don’t you knock?”
“Tom Miller’s been looking for you.”
“I was in CEO Glen Turner’s office.”
“Yeah, I heard you went in to see him. I think that’s why Miller’s been looking for you. He thinks you went over his head with something, and he’s none too happy about it.”
“I don’t give a shit what he’s happy about. And Mr. Turner and I have begun a dialogue. If Miller doesn’t like it, he can take it up with Mr. Turner.”
“I’m sure he will. I just thought I’d give you the heads up that he’s coming your way. So what are you working on?” Chan stepped closer.
“Look, I have a lot work to do, Michael,” Muranaka snapped.
“Okay fine. Jeez, what’s with you, did you forget your coffee this morning?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just, everyone’s on edge right now, with this PHOEBE problem. But I’m working on something I may need your help with later. Let me settle in, and I’ll let you know. Cool?”
“Sure. Sounds great.” Chan made for the door.
“One more thing,” Muranaka said.
“What’s that?”
“Can you keep Miller at bay for me?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.”
Chan gave Muranaka a nod before exiting her office and closing the door behind him.
Muranaka got up from her desk and locked the door to prevent more unwanted intrusions. She returned to her seat and powered up her workstation.
While she was waiting for her systems to boot, she pulled the thumb drive from her purse and placed it on her desk.
When the Coalition system login screen popped up on her computer screen, she logged on and slipped the thumb drive in the USB port on the side of her screen.
She waited several seconds for her machine to recognize the device but was surprised when her screen went black.
Muranaka hit several keys on her keyboard, but the screen remained dark.
“Shit.”
Muranaka hit more keys. Still nothing.
Then an alphanumeric stream of characters abruptly filled the screen and began to scroll at a rapid rate, too fast to read, right before the lights in her office and throughout the building flickered for several seconds.
Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over.
The lights were normal, and her screen went back to the Coalition Properties home page.
Muranaka hit several keys, but the Coalition home page stood unmoved.
She was effectively locked out of the system.
Muranaka’s heart sank as she realized that it was PHOEBE that had done it, and she had been duped. Muranaka frantically tried to reboot her system but it remained inaccessible. Even unplugging it didn’t help.
She swore at herself. Nicole Ellis had lied to her, used her, and now the entire digital infrastructure of Coalition Properties was at risk. Ellis had played to her emotions, and she had fallen for it. How could she have been so naïve? How could she have been so fooled by a romanticized notion of her actions making a difference? How could she have been so flat out stupid?
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s me,” Michael Chan said. “I need to talk to you.”
Muranaka got up from her desk, walked over to her office door, unlocked and opened it.
“What is it?”
“What the hell just happened?”
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“The whole floor lost the lights for a second, then I just got shut out of my system. I checked around and everyone’s been shut out. Reports are coming in from every building in the Fortress that their systems are down. It’s complete chaos.”
Muranaka peeked out her office door. Coalition employees were wandering about the hallways confused and angry.
“Did you do this? Is this what you were working on?” Chan asked Muranaka.
“No, I…”
An alarm klaxon sounded, the lights went out, this time long enough for the building’s emergency lighting system to activate.
“Great. Now we have to evacuate,” Chan said.
The number of people in the hallways grew, and the rumble of confusion got louder as Coalition employees began lining up and heading through the exit doors.
“Jesus, it’s a complete system-wide hack,” Chan said.
“Everyone else can go, but we have to stay,” Muranaka replied. “We have to try and stop it.”
“What did you do?”
“It’s PHOEBE. She’s infected the security system.”
“What? How?”
Muranaka wasn’t paying attention to Chan. She was watching Tom Miller, head of Coalition Properties cyber-security division and board member, visibly angry, moving through her coworkers and headed her way.
Officer Dino Rodriguez sat behind the wheel of his patrol car with his partner, Ellen Levy, sitting next to him.
“Are we really going to do this? Are we really going to fabricate a disturbance?” Levy asked.
“Yes we are,” Rodriguez responded. “Our part in this is simple. Some of the old guys are going to look like they’re causing a scuffle, and we’re going to step in to break it up. It will escalate, requiring the Fortress gate guards to get involved, and that moment will create the opening for the others to get inside and do their thing. We make sure no one gets hurt, we make a couple gentle arrests, cut the old guys loose down the street, and we’re done.”
“And this is a revolution?”
“Everyone’s got their role, big or small.”
“You know this could cost us our badges.”
Rodriguez shrugged, before he turned to Levy. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. If we lose our badges then we can finally go ahead…join those folks on the front line. I’d do it if it came down to that. Shit’s gotta change, Ellen, and it starts with this. It’s been rumbling for a while now. It’s why you’re here, why I’m here. To make a difference.”
“I hear you. But I’d like to keep my badge in the process, hell I just got it.”
Rodriguez checked his watch. It was 5:01 p.m. He looked out the driver’s side window of his squad car and examined the buildings that made up the Coalition Fortress. It was dusk, and the sun was beginning to set behind the six structures.
He watched as the array of office lights that outlined the Fortress, along with the street lamps and signage, flickered several times, with half of them staying off.
He turned to Levy and smiled. “Showtime.”
Malcolm Combine was fifty-eight years old. A black man, born and raised in Compton, CA, he ran with the Crips gang in his early teens, following in the footsteps of his older brother. He left the gang life when the crack epidemic took over South Central Los Angeles in the 80s and his brother was killed in a drive by shooting. He’d done his best to stay straight ever since.
When Combine was a young man he was long and lean, but now he was heavy set, with gray stubble on his chin and little in the way of hair on his head. Combine walked with a limp from a gunshot to the left leg when he was only sixteen, on the same night of the drive by shooting that killed his brother. But Combine considered himself one of the lucky ones. He was alive.
Along with his brother, many of the friends he grew up with had died from gun violence or drug overdoses. The ones who had survived that dark period, guys like Malcolm Combine and his late friend Winn Germaine, did their best to school the next generation on the perils of gang life.
The old timers had both the street cred and the respect to spread their message, but in the end, not much had changed. That was until Winn set up Safe Block.
Safe Block was a place where refugees, the poor, the outcasts, and those fleeing slavery could live and breathe in safety. It was a place where people could get their feet under them and get away from the slave traders hoping to break the cycle and start along a new path.
The original gangsters like Combine saw the value the Block created and got behind the project right away. Even the newer cats like Rooker understood the Block’s importance, but understanding didn’t guarantee escaping the cycle, as his death had shown.
But the story of the Block was growing louder, and others that were still in the rough trades were beginning to understand the importance of the concept, not the real estate.
They all knew on some level that violence only led to more violence, and if they stayed in the game too long it would take their lives with others profiting from the cycle. But cynicism remained high if the destructive pattern of behavior was all you’d ever known.
The success of Safe Block was beginning to change that. It was known to be a safe haven for slaves of any kind. It provided the communities with hope, and if the local gangs didn’t outright provide support, at the very least, they steered clear.
At Winn’s funeral, where several dozen of the old street survivors came to pay respects, it was clear that Winn’s top student in martial arts, a skinny white kid by the name of Alex Luthecker, would carry on the cause of Safe Block.
Luthecker was an odd cat in Malcolm Combine’s mind, but Combine’s survival instincts told the old man on first sight that Luthecker was also a dude you didn’t mess with. And there was no question that the young man did have a way with people, witnessed by Luthecker’s interaction with his crew—a group that was strong, diverse, and fiercely loyal.
Combine recognized the value in a strong, loyal crew. Survival on the streets required it. He recognized the talent necessary to lead a group of people from diverse backgrounds, all strong-minded in their own right. And Combine had heard rumors that Luthecker had this strange gift, where he made you face the genuine truth about yourself, a hard task that was near impossible for even the most self-reflective man or woman.
It was rumored that this gift that Luthecker had was so strong that it allowed the young man to accurately predict your future. And it was because of this ability that “the man” wanted to bring Luthecker down, “the man” of course being Coalition Properties. But the Coalition was failing.
Under Luthecker’s leadership, Safe Block had not only remained active, it had expanded its reach beyond the human trafficking that went through Los Angeles to include disrupting the slave trade in several parts of the world.
And Luthecker and his crew had learned how to ghost its locations quickly, making it far more difficult for authorities to clamp down. Luthecker had become successful in making Safe Block more of a universal idea than a particular location. And Luthecker’s two previous beat downs of the Coalition had made him a legend on the street, even to the younger sets.
It was because of Luthecker’s growing legend that momentum and support for the Block was growing. And Combine had heard that this latest dust-up about to go down with the Coalition was for all the marbles. It could possibly take down the much-hated enterprise.
And if the rumor was true, Malcolm Combine was more than happy to do what he could. Malcolm despised the Coalition and all it stood for. His youngest nephew had died fighting for oil in Iraq, oil that made profits for the Coalition. It was the same old story, the poor fighting for the profits of the rich, and if this opportunity was a way to fight against yet another deadly pattern that plagued society, then Combine would do his part. And he knew his friends would be right there with him, both young and old.
The plan was for Combine and his friends to cause a ruckus right outside the gates of the new Coalition complex, known as the Fortress, and then have some cops friendly to the cause arrest them, but not before getting the Coalition “guard dogs” involved and away from their posts.
The lead officer on this, Dino Rodriguez, was the LAPD officer who had approached Combine for the mission. Rodriguez had his own reputation on the street, one of always looking out for those with no voice and being fair with Combine’s people.
Rodriguez was an immigrant, one who knew what it was like to have nothing. The young officer was the leader of something called the Blue Curtain, an informal group of LAPD Officers who protected the Block and all the lives that it saved.
In Combine’s mind this made the officer one of the good guys and Combine, as well as other older gangsters, trusted him because of his actions. More important, the Luthecker kid trusted Rodriguez. And that was good enough for Combine.
Combine limped down the sidewalk in front of the Coalition Fortress main gates where he spotted his old friend from the hood, Billy Green, along with a dozen other folks he recognized from back in the day. They were all beginning to gather in front of the Coalition Fortress entrance gate. Many looked unsure what to do next. Green had his game face on, so Combine approached him first.
“So how’s this supposed to start? Am I supposed to take a swing at you?” Combine asked Green.
“Naw, I don’t wanna have to knock you out if you do,” Green answered.
“You ain’t gonna knock me out, get a hold of yourself.”
“Says the man with the limp. I dunno. Why don’t you push me. Start yellin’ at me or something.”
“Why don’t you push me?”
“Because you’d fall down with that gimp-ass leg a’ yours, fool.”
Combine chuckled right before he pushed Green in the chest hard, sending Green tumbling onto the street.
“Get the fuck off my street,” Combine added for effect.
Green tried not to laugh as he slowly got to his feet.
Both men looked around. Combine’s push kicked off the activities. Within seconds, men young and old were pushing and shoving one another and yelling profanities back and forth, with the Coalition entrance gates as the backdrop. Two of the younger men were already wrestling on the ground, exchanging blows. In less than a minute, it looked like a full-blown riot.
“Just like the good old days, huh?” Green said, as he turned back to Combine.
Combine winked at Green. “Let’s do this. Fuck you, old fool. You want some?”
Rodriguez and Levy sat in their squad car and watched as the crowd of over a dozen men, ranging in age from early twenties to late fifties, began to challenge one another.
Things escalated quickly as some of the younger men were taking their roles seriously, throwing punches and tossing each other to the ground. In no time, the brawl was filling the street and stopping traffic right in front of the Coalition Fortress entry gates.
“Wow, they’re making it look real. Should we break it up before it gets out of hand?” Levy asked.
Rodriguez hit the siren and lights and pulled the squad car away from the curb.
“What the hell do we do?” Jim Allen, Coalition Fortress security guard, said to his security booth partner, Joe Blair.
Both men stood behind the glass of their check in booth and watched as a fight between over a dozen men broke out in front of them, the fracas happening just out of surveillance camera range.
Allen, twenty-six years old, had done two tours in Iraq in the army’s infantry. His security booth job was boring and he was itching to get involved in the melee just for the fun of it.
Allen had applied for an enforcement job at Coalition Assurance literally the day he was honorably discharged from the army. He was disappointed that he was only offered a guard duty position, but he had been told during his interview that he would have the opportunity to join the Assurance team based on his loyalty and performance, so he took the position, figuring at least he was “in.”
He’d had the job now for just over six months, and standing in a security booth at the gate checking IDs had become repetitive and tedious. Not today, however.
A smile slowly crept across his face as he watched the conflict unfold in front of the gates.
“This is a job for the LAPD,” Blair replied in response to the smile. Blair was ten years Allen’s senior, and he was more than happy to sit back and watch the conflict escalate in front of them. “Unless they pull firearms or step foot on Coalition property, we sit this one out. Just enjoy the show.”
“Jesus, some of those guys look like they’re in their sixties. Some of ‘em can barely even move. What the hell are they fighting about?”
“Who knows?”
“Look, LAPD is already on the scene,” Allen said as he pointed to the patrol car driven by Officer Rodriguez.
Officer Rodriguez pulled his patrol car up to the curb in front of the Coalition Fortress gates, before he and Levy stepped out of the car.
Both officers pulled their batons, before Rodriguez looked directly at the guard booth and waved at Allen and Blair to help.
“He wants us to help,” Allen said when he saw the LAPD officer waving them over.
Allen was just itching to get in the mix, and it made Blair nervous. “Stay here. It’s not our job.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Like you said, it’s just old men.”
“There are a few young ones, too. And those cops are outnumbered. They’re gonna get stomped if we don’t step in.”
Allen squirmed as he watched the two police officers pull apart quarreling gang members, which only escalated the conflict. It was clear that the officers were overwhelmed.
Rodriguez signaled the two security guards again, this time emphatically.
“It’s just two officers. Why don’t they have back up?”
“Again, not our problem,” Blair answered.
“Fuck that shit. I’m getting into this,” Allen said as he exited the guard booth and headed to the street.
“Damn it,” Blair added, before he reluctantly followed Allen.
“There they go,” Yaw said as he watched the guards exit the guard booth and jump into the middle of the brawl that Rodriguez had set up on purpose.
So far, the plan was working perfectly. The whole crew of Yaw, Camilla, Chris, Masha, and Joey hid behind a large panel truck that was parked less than half a block from the altercation in front of the Coalition entrance gate.
“Let’s move,” Yaw said.
“I hope PHOEBE took the cameras down, or this is gonna end real quick.” Camilla looked at Nikki.
“I’m sure she did,” Nikki said, hoping it was true.
Billy Green saw the Coalition guards approaching and signaled his friend Malcolm Combine with a quick nod.
Green had already decided he was going to take a swing at one of the Coalition guards if one got close enough. Green hated the Coalition.
The firm bought up large swaths of downtown Los Angeles, kicking out local residents that had been in their homes for generations, which sent housing prices through the roof.
Coalition military-style trucks thundered through the streets in the middle of the night, setting off car alarms, and they often blocked the streets when they parked.
Coalition Assurance goons thought they were above the law and never missed an opportunity to hassle Green and his friends. They were arrogant, violent, and they acted like they owned everything. Well, today would be payback.
Green had won a middleweight Golden Gloves title when he was only seventeen, and his “home run ball” was his right hook. He was just looking to unleash it on someone. Green had been to jail before. It’d be worth doing time again if he could lay one of those suckers out.
Combine smiled when he saw the look on Green’s face because he knew what it meant. One of the Coalition guards was right behind him, and he could feel it.
Combine watched Green cock his right fist, and the old man with the bad leg knew what to do. Combine also knew that his knees would hate him for it later, and someone would have to help him back to his feet, but he abruptly dropped down in a two-point stance, timing it perfectly as the Coalition guard approached and Green took a swing.
It was chaos as half a dozen fights raged around Jim Allen, and Allen loved every minute of it. He separated two young men wrestling on the ground only to look up and watch an old black man, skinny, wearing a faded fedora, hit Joe Blair with the cleanest right hook he’d ever seen.
Blair dropped to the pavement like a sack, unconscious before his body clattered to the ground. It was clear that the old man was a trained boxer and that Blair had been sucker punched.
Allen approached the man who had hit Blair as the LAPD Officer that had first signaled him over grabbed the puncher and pulled him to the ground. It was clear that the officer was trying not to hurt the old man.
Allen was about to step in between two younger combatants when he was tackled at the knees and forced to the pavement. Allen looked to see who the attacker was, and the Coalition booth guard recognized his assailant as the older black man who had dropped to the ground just as Joe Blair had been hit.
Officer Dino Rodriguez pulled Billy Green to the ground as gently as he could.
“What the hell was that?” Rodriguez said to Green.
“C’mon, man, I had to.”
“That’s assault.”
“This show was your idea, remember?”
Rodriguez shook his head. It wasn’t in the plans to actually strike one of the Coalition guards, but now that it happened, he had to get Green out of there.
He watched Malcolm Combine leg tackle the other guard, and that’s when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yaw, Nikki, Camilla, and the rest of the Safe Block clan dart from behind a panel truck, past the gates, and move inside the Fortress grounds.
As soon as the Safe Block crew disappeared from view, Rodriguez heard it: the sound of approaching sirens.
As if the sirens were their cue, all the combatants—save for Billy Green and Malcolm Combine—stopped fighting and scattered at the sound. By the time the three additional patrol cars arrived, the only ones left on the street were the two Officers Rodriguez and Levy, the two Coalition guards, and the two black men, Combine and Green.
Rodriguez helped Green to his feet, carefully handcuffed him, and gave him a brief nod of acknowledgement before putting him in the back of his patrol car.
Rodriguez looked across the street and saw that Ellen Levy had already pulled the other elder black man, Malcolm Combine, off the Coalition guard whose legs the old man had clung to, and she was in the process of handcuffing him.
Rodriquez approached the guard who had been hit and was dazed and sitting on the sidewalk. “Are you alright?”
Blair gave a quick nod to indicate that it was mostly his ego that was injured.
Rodriguez helped the guard to his feet.
“I want to press charges,” Blair said, as he rubbed his jaw.
“I want to thank you guys for helping out. We really needed you, and I’m real sorry you caught one on the chin,” Rodriguez responded to Blair as Jim Allen approached.
“Just so you know, we’re going to book both of these men for starting the riot. We can add assault charges as well. I’m going to need to speak to your supervisor, so I can explain to them exactly what happened and make sure there’s no problems for you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Allen responded. The last thing he wanted was a mark of any kind on his record.
Rodriguez nodded to the two handcuffed men now in the back of his car. “Just so you know, they’re gonna lawyer up and say you guys attacked them. I deal with these kind of guys all the time, and that’s what they do.”
“That’s bullshit. He cold cocked me right in the jaw.”
“I know, but they’re still gonna lawyer up. You guys got an attorney they should be in contact with? Just trying to help you out. You know how these things can go.”
Allen looked over at Blair and did a quick headshake in the negative. He needed a perfect record to join the Coalition Assurance team, and any problems with the police or controversy with the law could jeopardize his chances.
“No charges, officer. We’re just glad we could help out,” Allen volunteered.
Blair glared at him.
Allen gave a pleading look at his partner.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, just make sure you get them on the riot charge,” Blair responded, still rubbing his jaw.
“Oh, don’t worry, we will.”
“So, we’ll just keep this off the books then,” Allen added.
“No problem. If that’s what you want.”
“Man, you hit that fool good,” Combine cackled as the patrol car pulled from the curb and sped away from the Coalition Fortress entrance gates.
Combine turned and looked out the rear window as they drove off, watching as the two Coalition guards slowly shuffled back to their guard booth.“That was fan-fucking-tastic,” he added.
“I’m gonna have to ice my hand, I think I might’a broke it. Felt good to get that shot in, though. How’s the leg?” Green asked.
“Hurts like hell. And my knees ain’t workin’ right. But it was worth it.”
“Where do you want us to drop you off?” Rodriguez asked.
He looked in the rear-view mirror at Green and Combine. The two old men couldn’t stop grinning at one another.
“Just leave us anywhere on Figueroa,” Combine answered. “Do you think they got in? That Luthecker cat and his crew?”
“Yeah. They got in.”
“Hot damn,” Combine said.
“I suggest you gentlemen lay low for a few days. Keep quiet about all this. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir, officer. We will,” Green replied.
“Thanks again for helping out. That was a helluva right hook, Billy. You’re lucky you didn’t break his jaw. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Thank you, sir. Give us a call anytime you need to stage another dust up.”
Both Officers Rodriguez and Levy stood on the sidewalk off Figueroa Street and shook hands with Green and Combine.
They climbed back into their patrol car, and Rodriguez pulled from the curb into traffic.
“We’ll it worked. At least as far as we know,” Levy said. “We’ve done our part.”
“Yes we have.”
“So does that mean we’re done?”
Rodriguez looked at Levy. “No. At least, I’m not.”
“Good. Me neither. So now what?”
“We’re going back. And we’re helping them out.”
“What do you mean the launch sequence has begun?” Turner yelled into his phone.
This was a disastrous development. At least he was speaking on a secure line, and the NSA was not listening in.
“Sir, I called you because I do not trust Ivan Barbolin or the Russian President. They would set the world on fire for more money. And I know that the President of the United States is not the most powerful man in America. You are. Understand that there is no denying that our submarine launch system has been hacked. And the only person with access to the technology to stop a nuclear holocaust is the man who runs the most powerful weapons contractor in the world, the Coalition. This is why I reached out to you. Can you help us?”
“How long do we have?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Jesus Christ. Stay on the phone.”
Turner put down the receiver. His mind raced. Ivan hadn’t been lying about the sub. But now things had slipped completely out of control, and Ivan was useless here. His own Russian people didn’t trust him.
The West Coast had Coalition-designed missile defense systems that were state of the art, but they had never been tested against something like this. Would it be enough?
Turner had to think fast. He had to be decisive. There was no doubt that this was the work of PHOEBE and the terrorist hacker Nicole Ellis.
Turner wondered if this was some sort of master plan put together by Alex Luthecker. Now Turner had little choice—he was going to have to confront Luthecker directly. He may even have to rely on the soothsayer’s help—something Luthecker more than likely wanted all along.
Luthecker was far more dangerous than he thought. But Turner wasn’t out of ideas yet. He waved his secretary over.
“Call over to Coalition Assurance. Tell them I need a squad at the Cyber Center, now. Contact Rika Muranaka and tell her to go directly to the center as well. And have Coalition Assurance send a team to pick up Ivan and bring him too. And finally, have them send two of their best to escort Alex Luthecker to meet us there.”
Alex Luthecker was sitting quietly on the couch in his cell when the lights went out. It was pitch black for several seconds before the room illuminated again, but the darkness wasn’t what caught Luthecker’s attention.
What caught his attention was a sound—the blunt thud of the electronic latch that kept the door to his cell locked being released.
To Alex, it didn’t just mean he was free—it meant that PHOEBE was here roaming the Coalition’s digital hallways. And that meant Nikki was roaming the physical ones. In other words, his family was here.
Alex got to his feet and pushed against the thick metal door, and it moved. He slowly opened it all the way and peered outside. The halls were quiet. There were no guards, no attendants. Alex understood why.
The Coalition CEO and cyber-security team would know that PHOEBE had infiltrated their systems and was wreaking havoc on every form of digital communication. It would create confusion and chaos, causing all security personnel to focus on the problem.
If Turner still believed that Alex was a non-factor, he wouldn’t think that for much longer. The next steps would be critical. Alex hustled down the hallway. He knew that because of PHOEBE, Nikki would be the primary target. He had to find her, before Glen Turner or his Coalition Assurance assassins discovered her first.
He stopped when he saw Mark Kirby at the end of the hall.
Kirby quickly approached.
“It’s complete fucking chaos,” Kirby started. “Just like you said it would be. Turner’s in over his head, and he doesn’t know what to do. And you were right—he doesn’t want to talk to you.”
“At some point, he’ll realize he has no choice, and we need to be gone by then. I’ll find my friends, and we can leave. PHOEBE will do the rest.”
“What about the missile launch?”
Alex froze in his tracks. “What are you talking about?’
“What do you mean, what am I talking about? The Russian sub. The launch countdown sequence has started. There’s less than thirty minutes before launch. It wasn’t the Russians who started it, so I figured it was one of your people. Are you saying it wasn’t part of your plan?”
“It’s definitely not part of my plan.”
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit is right.”
“But how could you not know this? I thought you could see macro patterns like this before they happened. I thought you could see everything.”
“I can’t. I don’t predict the future, just the cumulative choices of human behavior, remember?”
Alex knew Kirby was right. He had seen the threat of the sub, but not the details of the actual launch. How could he have missed something like this? The momentum behind it should have made it obvious. How could he not see something so enormous and devastating being done by the people around him? How could he not see this in the most basic patterns of human behavior?
Then it dawned on him.
“It wasn’t human,” Alex said aloud. “That’s why I couldn’t see it. It wasn’t part of the collective momentum of human behavior and decisions.”
“What wasn’t human?” Kirby asked.
“Whatever authorized the launch sequence. Whatever it was that made the decision to launch, it wasn’t a human.”
Randy Baez sat up on his bunk the second the alarm Klaxon sounded. He and his unit had returned to the Coalition Assurance facilities only two days previous after a brief mission in Chile, where locals were causing problems at the Coalition Properties lithium mining facility.
Luckily, the local protesters had been easy to disperse, and there had been no incidents of violence under Randy’s watch. When the replacement unit arrived, Randy was happy to have a zero incident report to hand over.
After his debriefing at Coalition Assurance headquarters this morning, Randy hoped he would be cleared for a vacation soon. His younger brother, Jacob, was having some health issues, and Randy desperately wanted to go see him to make sure he was okay.
But the alarm that was ringing throughout the building gave him a bad feeling, told him he wouldn’t be going home any time soon.
“It’s some sort of cyber breach,” Brian Scholl, Randy’s roommate and fellow unit member said, as he stepped back into their room from the hallway.
“So what’s the order?” Randy asked.
“All the security systems are down. The rest of the unit has been ordered to patrol the grounds, ASAP. There was some minor conflict at the entrance gates, and we’re on high alert that there might be hostiles on the grounds already.”
“The rest of the unit? What about us? Why haven’t we scrambled?”
“We get special sauce today. Straight from the chairman’s office.”
“No kidding.”
“Yup. You and I, we gotta head down to the containment apartments. Pick up a guy named Alex Luthecker.”
“I heard about him.”
“We all have.”
“Didn’t know we had him on site.”
“Well, we do. Apparently, it was a secret until five minutes ago. We gotta go pick him up and escort him to the Cyber Center in building one.”
“I heard he’s dangerous.”
“We’re dangerous. Get your ass up, and let’s go get this guy.”
“I haven’t seen her,” Michael Chan lied as he spoke with cyber security boss Tom Miller.
Both men watched as employees shuffled out in practiced order through the exits and down the stairs.
“I was told she was in her office. Where could she be?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t seen her in a couple of days.”
“She’s not returning calls, either.”
“I know I’ve tried to reach her, too. We really have a crisis here. Don’t know where she could be.”
“Well, if you see her, tell her I need to speak with her, immediately.”
Chan watched as Miller stormed off. He hoped he had bought Muranaka enough time.
“One of us should go with you,” Yaw said to Nikki.
The group stood in the shadows of Coalition One, the main building in the Fortress, watching as people began pouring out of the building in choreographed fashion, the look and behavior of the exiting employees no different from those during a fire drill.
“No. Go find Alex,” Nikki replied. “Get him out of here. I can move better on my
own.”
“At least take your sticks.”
“That would look suspicious. I just need access to a connected terminal. I’ll give PHOEBE a handful of commands, and then I’m done. After that I’ll come find you guys.”
“And Muranaka? What about her?”
“I’ll find her and get her out. If they find out what she’s done, they’ll want her dead, and we can’t let that happen.”
“You should let us find her.”
“No. I have a feeling she and I will end up in the same place. Your job is to protect Alex. He’s the most important…”
“You keep saying that, why?” Camilla interrupted.
“You know why.”
“Maria.”
“Yes. She’s just like Alex. And she’s going to need him.”
“She’s going to need you both.”
“Him, more than me. Look, don’t get me wrong, I have every intention of meeting you guys at Metro. It’s just I’ll move much better on my own. And my job’s much easier than yours so don’t worry about me. Now go.”
“We’ll see you at Metro then,” Yaw said to Nikki, before he turned toward the others.
Nikki watched as Yaw, Chris, Camilla, Masha, and Joey headed toward building six, which housed Coalition Assurance.
Nikki knew from the schematics provided by PHOEBE that the Coalition Assurance Building housed the firm’s internment apartments, otherwise known as prison cells. It also housed enough soldiers and weapons to invade a small country.
As Nikki watched her friends making their way toward the heavily fortified building and quickly disappearing among the crowds of confused Coalition employees exiting the Fortress buildings, she wondered if she would see them, or Alex, ever again.