The Blood of Patriots

Chapter 7: Alternatives

It's nearly three o'clock by the time they drop me off at home. Oz is absorbed with more text messages. I step out as she instructs Joe to continue on to the warehouse so they can take stock of their plunder. I say nothing as I close the van door. She says nothing. I watch them drive away until the black van turns the corner.

Inside the house I hear faint music coming up from the basement. I yell down the stairs to let Dad know I'm home.

"Hey!" I hear him yell back. He comes to the bottom of the stairs. "You left your cell behind. It was ringing so much I put it on mute. It's on the kitchen table."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Have a good time?"

"Sure."

"Alright."

He disappears. I find my cell and check the messages. I missed ten calls, and have twenty-three new emails. The calls came first from the COO at the electric company, then a few from the DHS, followed by a cluster from the electric company within the last hour.

I retrieve six voice mails. The first two are from the DHS.

"Need to talk to you. Call me back." Then, twenty minutes later. "We have a situation, Sam. I could really use your input. I have a Presser in fifteen minutes."

I try to call him back, but the line is busy. I try his cell and get no answer. His mailbox is full.

He also sent me three emails saying basically the same thing. He offers no information, just a request to call him back.

"Sorry, out of pocket all morning," I say in a responding email. "Just got back. How can I help? Sam."

I send it and it bounces back. I open the boomerang details and it tells me "Mailbox Full." The poor guy must be swamped.

I try a few other contacts at the DHS just to see if I can get a message to him. All lines are busy. That's frustrating.

The electric company is my big ticket client. Last night's email and the first two from the COO this morning are all connected to the weather. The others are disturbing.

"Sam, we have an emergency situation," he writes. "If you haven't seen the news there's been a train derailment in the southeastern sector. The outage is minimal and our people seem to be on top of the situation. The problem is that the government is calling it a 'Terrorist Event.' That has serious ramifications across the board for us. I could use your advice. Call me when you get this."

That's not so bad, but the rest escalate into a fever pitch, particularly since the DHS seems to be "off the grid" as he puts it.

I call him.

"Hey, Sam," he says when his secretary patches me through. "Thought we lost you there."

"Sorry, Jeff," I say. "I had some friends in town and took them out into the country. I apologize for being off the grid. Got your messages about the weather situation."

"Don't worry about that. The team assures me that they're ready for it. A few of your mass emails are already in the queue for tomorrow before it hits. I need your help with Homeland Security. Have you seen the news?"

I head into the back office and pull out a pad of paper and a pen.

"Yes, I did. It's quite a mess."