“Fine,” he said, and it came out a rasp. He cleared his throat. “Fine. I’m fine. Just taking it all in.”
He caught a glimpse of Daryn looking at him with relief painted on her face. Britt was appraising him coolly. Sanborn nodded. “There’s a lot to take in,” Sanborn finally said. He sat back in his chair, then a slightly bemused look came over his face. “Perhaps you’ve misunderstood, Michael.”
“How so?”
“We’re not talking about violence here. When we use words like damage or destroy in talking about the banking industry, we don’t mean a literal, physical destruction.”
Sean breathed out slowly.
Sanborn exchanged a long glance with Daryn. “Kat would never allow us to devolve into terrorism. No, we mean demonstrations designed to point up the weaknesses of the ruling classes and their wealth.”
Sean closed his eyes for a second, then nodded. “Thanks for clarifying that.”
Sanborn chuckled. “You were looking rather pale over there.” Another look toward Daryn.
What is it with those two? Sean wondered. And how long will this go on?
“Go ahead, Alan,” Sanborn said.
Davenport nodded. “I’ve come up with a first target. Based on many factors, I believe we should start with the Bank of America in downtown Oklahoma City.”
There were several murmurs. Sean saw Daryn nodding approvingly.
“There’s the symbolic value of the location. It’s literally right around the corner from the national memorial, the site of the Murrah Building. Plus, B of A is a large nationwide banking company, and very powerful in the financial world. Their downtown building faces Robinson Avenue, and there’s a large open courtyard that faces the street. That will be good for media coverage.”
Sanborn nodded. “A good choice, Alan. Everyone needs to spend the next few days staying on message, doing what you need to do to prepare yourself for the start of the campaign. Alan, do you have a list of the next targets and where we’ll go from here?”
Davenport shuffled some papers. “I made copies for everyone.”
“Good. Pass them around.” Sanborn nodded toward Daryn. “Kat, anything to add?”
“The Coalition is about to go public,” she said, almost breathlessly. “Be ready. They won’t be able to ignore us, or our goals.”
“Got an attention getter in mind?” Don Wheaton said.
Daryn grinned. She patted Britt’s leg beside her, then reached up and squeezed the other woman’s breast. “Maybe,” she said. “Britt and I may put on an exhibition for them. That would get it going, wouldn’t it?”
Sean watched the group’s reactions. Some stared openly, others were noncommittal. The social worker, Jeannie Davis, looked quickly away.
“I think that means the meeting is dismissed,” Sanborn laughed.
The group broke up slowly, people talking in small groups. Sean lingered on the couch for a moment, reading the list Davenport had passed around. It was a list of banks that started in Oklahoma City, then spread out across the country. There were twenty-seven in all, ending with Citibank in New York.
“Wow,” Sean said. “So we’re going to travel to all these places? The whole group?”
Daryn touched his arm. “That’s the idea. And we’ll gather more people along the way, once the word starts spreading. We already have small cells near all these places. And it starts right here.” She gestured around the living room. “Appropriate, don’t you think?”
What do you mean by that? Sean thought, but just nodded.
“Come on,” Daryn said. “Let’s see if there’s anything in the kitchen to drink.”
They made their way to the kitchen, Daryn saying a few words here and there to members of the group as she passed them. Like the rest of the house, it was large and open. The linoleum floor was peeling a bit, but otherwise it seemed clean and relatively well kept.
Daryn reached into the refrigerator. “There’s Coke, juice, beer.”
Thank you, God. “I’d love a beer,” Sean said.
“Looks like you can have Michelob or Michelob.”
“I’ll take the Michelob.”
“Good choice,” Daryn said, and handed him a can. “Britt?”
“What are you having?” Britt said.
“Oh, honey, I’m just having some juice, I think. But you can have a beer if you want.”
“Sure, okay,” Britt said.
Sean opened his beer and drank half of it in one swallow. “What’s out there?” He gestured toward the back door.
“Come on, I’ll show you,” Daryn said.
The kitchen door opened onto a huge wooden deck that spanned the entire length of the house. Just like the rest of the place, it showed wear and tear in places but was still in reasonable condition. “Nice,” Sean said, drinking a little more beer.
They walked to the edge of the deck. The ground behind the house sloped gently down, with an excellent view of the rolling countryside. The grass, high from spring rains, was very, very green, Sean noticed, and there were areas of brick-red clay that dotted the land. After seven years in the deserts of southern Arizona, he found the colors almost blinding.
The three of them were alone on the deck, and Daryn said softly, “What did you think, Michael?”
Sean waited a long time before answering. He finished the can of Michelob and set it carefully on the railing of the deck. He saw Britt watching him, standing in Daryn’s shadow.
“I think the ideas are solid,” Sean said. “I don’t know about the rest. The banks, I mean. Change is a hard thing to bring about.”
Daryn smiled at him. “You’re right. But it can be done. If people can reinvent themselves, why can’t societies, countries?”
Sean looked at her long and hard. If people can reinvent themselves. What was she saying to him?
“We all want to change who we are sometimes,” Daryn went on. “We want to throw off the things that shackled us to our past and just become something new.”
“But not many people actually get to do that,” Sean said. “They stay shackled, to use your word. Whether it’s to a job they hate, or a spouse they don’t love anymore, or a city they don’t like living in. Most people don’t have the luxury of going out and just becoming someone new.”
Daryn cocked her head. “Luxury? That’s an interesting way to put it. But you’re right again. If we reshape the way American society looks at people-those very people you’re talking about, people who feel they don’t have any choices-then there will be more freedom. Freedom to choose how they can live their lives, without fear of some moral or financial controls put in place by some out-of-touch rulers.”
Sean managed a smile of his own. “I love your passion. It…it sort of defines you, makes you who you are.”
“Oh, is that what makes me who I am?”
They let that hang in the air for a few seconds, then Sean said, “Do you trust me, Kat?”
“Yes. You saved my life.”
Sean nodded. “But you still haven’t trusted me with much about yourself.”
Daryn lowered her head, then glanced toward Britt, who was still watching Sean intently. Daryn finally looked back to Sean. “What is it you want to know?”
“I don’t know. Anecdotes. Stories. That sort of thing.”
Sean watched her, saw her dark eyes flicker.
Daryn sighed. “My father is a wealthy, powerful man. He’s part of the ruling class. I grew up as part of it before I realized what was going on. My father’s values disgust me. He pushed my mother aside when I was a little girl and paraded a group of whores in and out as trophy wives. Don’t worry, the word whore doesn’t bother me. Since I am one, of course.”
Britt looked at the floor. Daryn took her hand. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. We know what we are. We know who we are. It’s the rest of society that can’t handle it.” She looked back up at Sean. “When I was seventeen, my father had been away, out of the country for some meetings. And like any self-respecting rich, spoiled teenager, I threw a party while he was gone. You name it, it went on. Booze, dope, sex. All of us were stupidly wealthy, so none of us cared about anything. Our fathers could buy our way out of any trouble we got into. It was late, two or three in the morning, and most of the others had gone home. I was in my room, in bed with two of my good friends, Bryan and Jennifer. We were all so busy screwing each other’s brains out that we didn’t notice my father had come into the room.”