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."