“That was a hell of a mission,” she said. “A real check-your-State-Farm-policy for real.”
“Uncle Corey?” Catherine looked as confused as Tony felt, but she was too tired to inquire further. One of the women slipped an oxygen mask over Catherine’s face and she closed her eyes. Diamond gazed out the window at the city on fire. The brown Lab panted happily in a firewoman’s lap. They raced south out of the inferno, and when Tony looked out, he could see the woman riding near the water cannon like a soldier poking up from a gunner’s hatch. She gazed across the city, backlit by the burning mountains to the north. By the time they reached the containment line established at the 10, dawn was approaching, and they found safety under a sky as gray as the dead.
Later, Tony would get the whole story.
Unable to reach Tony, Corey had called Holly and learned of Tony’s crazed cross-country flight to find Catherine. While Tony was getting on the FEMA plane in Chicago, Corey chartered a jet to get him as close to LA as possible, which turned out to be the former John Wayne Airport in Orange County. From there, he hitched a ride with a rescue helicopter (which probably meant he paid someone an exorbitant bribe). He was in constant touch with Holly, who was losing her mind. All she knew was that Cat appeared to still be in her apartment and that’s where their dad was heading. Corey stalked the ranks of the firefighters and rescue workers trying their best to evacuate five to eight million people. This army included not just the obvious first responders. Take all the National Guard, smokejumpers, pilots, police, paramedics, doctors, nurses, hospital staff, and even Mexican fishermen coming up in their boats to evacuate people along the coast. Take FEMA officials and air traffic controllers and Cal Fire and military and off-duty everyone, get them on the phone and tell them they’re needed. The miracle was not just that the death toll stopped short of four figures. The miracle was not just school bus drivers showing up to move whole neighborhoods of the homeless south as the fire advanced. The miracle was how many people just flat-out answered the call. Or as the mayor would later put it, in a speech many said would vault him into vice presidential contention for the Democrats, “We have to rebuild, so Hollywood can go about immortalizing this story.”
But when Corey arrived at the fire line, that’s not what he saw. All he found was chaos, disorganization, and fear. The people in charge, FEMA reps, police captains, fire chiefs, all told him the area he wanted to get to was already lost, and he needed to back off, let them do their jobs, and get to safety.
Corey approached every firefighter, paramedic, and cop—anyone with a vehicle—and begged them to help him get to Catherine’s address. No one even considered it. “You’re going to get yourself killed,” one crew chief told him. “That whole area’s going to be ash.”
Then he found the women in orange. They wore this color because they were prison inmates. Based out of the women’s correctional facility in Chino, they fought wildfires for $7 a day. They’d been mobilized more or less nonstop the entire summer, and now they were part of the force trying to save Los Angeles.
“Please,” Corey pleaded. “It’s not just my niece. It’s my brother-in-law too—her dad. He went to try to get her, and I can’t reach him.” He looked from woman to woman. They sat on milk crates and fold-out chairs, chugging water, snacking on boxes of animal crackers. They had less than five hours before they were supposed to be back on the line.
“You don’t get it,” said their chief, Yolanda Quebrada, the woman with the design on her cheek. “Our truck, it ain’t our truck. We take off in it, they could give us more time.”
Corey, a delirious negotiator, a lifetime spent talking people into deals that may or may not work out for them, saw that crack of daylight. None of them had said no.
“I swear to God,” he said. “I’m not just talking money. I will spend the next decade of my life hiring you all lawyers, calling the governor, getting your sentences commuted. I will find you jobs when you get out. Anything you need, anything your families need. This is my fucking family,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I swear to Christ if you help me get to them, I will make you whole after this. I promise. I will make you whole.”
One of the women, the one he’d later kiss on the cheek, was staring at her box. “My daughter calls these ‘amnimal crackers,’ ” she said.
So seven of the inmates from the California Institution for Women in Chino, serving time for everything from drunk driving to armed robbery, drove their truck into the flaming east side hills. They knew to look in the school because Tony’s text had reached Holly.
Listening to this story, Tony felt as if he were absent from the moment. While they drove south to the medical tents where he and Catherine would be treated for smoke inhalation, he was having enough trouble believing he was alive. The man who called himself Diamond melted away as soon as they reached the safety of the 10. And the women of Chino? He hadn’t even had a moment to thank them. They had immediately plunged back into the dark flames, into the war, following the scent of smoke. Forty-eight hours later, the fire finally brought under control, he, Corey, and Catherine flew from Orange County with the dog in tow. That night, as they flew over the rubble of Los Angeles, a massive scar that stretched for thousands of acres before vanishing into the coal-black ocean, Tony thought of those women stepping off the rig. Looking out from the plane’s window, he imagined them now among the cinders. The city looked like a gutted hole in the earth, indistinguishable from the night, this yawning abyss left behind by the fire.
FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION
Preference: ROUTINE Date: 02/10/32
To: Washington Field
From: Washington Field
Contact: [Redacted X X X X]
Approved By: [Redacted X X X X X]
Drafted By: [Redacted X X X X X X]
Case ID #: 838A-WF-3333897-USWEAIID (Pending)
Title: WEATHERMEN 6DEGREES
MAJOR CASE 194
Synopsis: Report details low-priority persons of interest regarding eco-terrorist activities and attacks spanning nearly a decade. Despite several high-profile arrests, the Joint Terrorism Task Force assumes the investigation has neither found nor prosecuted primary suspects within the operational core of the organization. Several previous persons of interest may be ruled out as ongoing threats.
Details: As part of the investigation into [Redacted X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X], sources and methods will be partially redacted. Disconnect remains between arrests and operations. While Mitchell Corbin Tabitha and John George Gerald Jr. did have minor infractions, arrests, and lawsuits against them, there is no evidence to indicate they were ongoing members of a cell. Daniel Porter McCulloch and Marie Karina Newman had no police records. None of those arrested appear to have been radicalized to an environmental cause, with the possible exception of Miles Russell Kroll. [Redacted X X X X X X X X X X X X] believed these operatives were largely recruited because of their nonideological posture and lack of knowledge of 6Degrees’ operational capacities. It is recommended that limited resources be redirected from monitoring the suspects in custody and their networks. Predictive analytics conclude the same. [Redacted X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X].
[Redacted] also stated that Gerald, McCulloch, Newman, and Tabitha should be viewed as low priorities. Bureau resources should be redirected, especially given that the budget for this operation has reached [Redacted] USD while overall budgetary considerations are now [Redacted] USD.