“Mmmmm, Francisco,” she said, downing a quarter of the two inches in the tumbler. “Cask strength?” He nodded. “Nice and warm. That shed is going to get further and further away as the winter comes.”
Lopez grunted. “I think we’ll spend a lot of time just clearing a path to it. I didn’t realize the snows came so early here. The mountains in Alabama weren’t all that high or cold.”
“How’s the buck?” she said, walking into the small kitchen. “Biggest one we’ve bagged. You’ve got your work cut out for you to top that one.”
“You’re one competitive girl, Sara,” he said, laughing and shaking his head. “But he’s coming along well. Should be dinner for two weeks with the last veggie run.”
She nodded. “Runs are going to get harder with the weather. We need a strategy for supplies. I don’t think the Outback can handle what might be coming on these lousy roads. Next trip into town we need to make sure we have enough fuel for the generator.”
“By then we’ll have natural refrigeration and drain less power. We can fill the shelter with things. We’re remote, Sara, but not that remote.”
Houston placed her tumbler on the table and walked up to Lopez, draping her arms around his neck. “I’m getting used to a certain rustic luxury up here, Francisco. Nothing ruins rustic luxury like a few weeks of rationing.”
They kissed. Houston wasn’t sure what felt warmer, his lips or the whiskey. As his hands moved over her waist, she realized that both could spin her head around in the most delicious ways.
A device buzzed from a table beside the sofa.
Both Lopez and Houston turned quickly to the sound, the warmth draining from their faces, softer expressions replaced with intense eyes and set jaws.
Lopez rumbled deeply. “My guess is that it’s for you.”
Houston smirked and walked toward the landline. It looked like a receptionist’s business phone, rows of buttons and an LCD display glowing back at her. The phone cable ran through a black box with a pair of lights. The red light glowed. “They sure know how to ruin a girl’s evening.”
Lopez downed the rest of this whiskey and followed her to the phone, ignoring the device and staring out the window. He seemed to focus on objects thousands of miles away.
“Mary here,” said Houston, using the false identities they had been given. “Gabriel’s fine.” She pushed a button and the device went to speaker. A woman’s voice spoke from the other end.
“It is said: ‘Do not meddle in the affairs of Wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.’”
Houston replied. “And it is also said, ‘Go not to the elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.’” She watched a series of numbers changing across the LCD. They locked in a particular sequence, and she continued. “Handshake completed. Hi, Rebecca.”
“Hello, Sara,” said Cohen, her voice strained.
“This isn’t going to be a good call, is it? Are we blown?”
“No. Nothing like that. Something much worse.”
Lopez turned his head and met Houston’s eyes. His voice was curt. “What’s going on?”
There was a sigh and long pause on the line. “Be glad you’re in the mountains. Down here, it’s chaos. Short story is that there seems to be a hacker group called Anonymous that has suddenly mutated into a full-bore terrorist group. Attacks have ripped through the virtual world and bombings and assassinations in the real world.”
Houston crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s that got to do with us?”
“Sara, this is a national security threat. We’ve had major figures in business and finance and in the US Congress blown up or gunned down in the last week. At the same time, some kind of Armageddon worm has been secretly eating its way through world networks, syphoning off huge sums of money, controlling international media, and insinuating itself on every computer from academia to the Pentagon. It’s already caused havoc and we’re pretty sure it’s just getting warmed up.”
Lopez leaned over toward the phone. “That doesn’t answer the question. Why on earth are you calling us? What could we do? If we show our faces down there, we’ll just end up in a cell. More likely just dead.”
“The President has declared a state of martial law in New York and Washington.”
“What the fuck?” said Houston. “Are you kidding me? It’s that bad?”
Cohen sounded tense. “They’ve used drones to bomb the Pentagon, Wall Street. They took over the networks to televise the execution of business and political leaders. Military units are already moving into the city. Curfew is in place. So yeah, it’s pretty damn bad.”
Houston shook her head. “How does the world go to hell in a week’s time? You were just here!”
Lopez pressed her. “Look, if what you say is true, then what could we possibly do? Seems better that two hunted fugitives wait it out in hiding. Law enforcement will be looking suspiciously at everyone. That’s some attention we don’t need.”
“Most of our staff has been annexed by Homeland Security and put into bodyguard roles for the powerful. It’s the same all over NYPD and other FBI divisions. All kinds of 9/11 laws are getting dusted off and put into use. HS is calling all the shots. It’s ludicrous!” Cohen barked a laugh. “Right now, all we’ve got is the core of Intel 1: me, John, Angel, JP, and Frank. The other agencies seem paralyzed. We need you. The country needs you.”
“The country needs us,” said Lopez. “Would that be the same country that wants us dead? The same government that slandered our names and has us on your most wanted list?”
“Francisco, today’s not the day to seek justice for what happened to you. You know there are plenty of good people who deserve our best. Some of those risked their lives so that you and Sara could find a new life up there.”
“And now you want to take that away from us.”
Cohen sighed. “If we don’t stop Anonymous — I don’t know how far they’ll go. I’m afraid, Francisco. Soon, there might not even be a country to establish your innocence in!”
“This is crazy,” said Houston.
“I know it is, but aren’t most disasters as they unfold? 9/11? The attack on Mecca with one of our own nukes? Please. You two have unique skills. Highly valuable skills. And you’re ghosts. You have no obligation to the US government or anyone else. You can do what we can’t. Even Anonymous can’t find out who you are. Tools we can use to turn this around.”
“Tools,” said Lopez.
“Dammit, Francisco, you know what I’m saying! You’ve been screwed, yes. But don’t you feel the least bit of obligation to the people of this nation?”
Houston looked painfully toward Lopez, who turned his head away as he spoke. “You know I do. I was a priest once.”
“Then help us! We need everything we can get right now!”
Lopez looked at Houston. He nodded and closed his eyes.
“The activation protocol?” Houston asked.
They could almost hear the relief in Cohen’s voice. “Yes. I’ll rendezvous with you at the specified location. Thank you. Both of you.”
“You're welcome,” said Houston.
“And Sara, make sure you come prepared.”
The light on the phone switched to green and the LCD went blank.
Lopez silently grabbed his coat and walked to the door. Houston followed suit and took an LED lantern from the mantle. Together they walked outside and round to the back of the cabin. Lopez approached the cabin wall and knelt down. He brushed away several inches of snow, revealing a set of padlocked doors embedded in the ground. Houston removed the key from a chain around her neck and inserted it into the lock. They pulled together on the doors, the sound of them swinging on their hinges muffled by the deep snow around them.