Undercover Crisis

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER SIX

Cora Goodale sat in the living room of the house inhabited by Students for Personal Privacy (SFPP) members. She had brought a towel this time and had spread it on the couch before sitting. The last time, she had incurred a stain on her trousers that just wouldn't come out. She had no idea what constituted the greenish brown blotch and wasn't going to ask; she had to throw the trousers in the garbage after trying three difference brands of stain remover on them.

There was a smell in the room that seemed to be combination of mold and steamed broccoli. Again, she followed the doctrine of 'don't ask, don't tell.' She also had brought a small bottle of VapoRub and dabbed a small amount of the cream under her nose.

The students had left her twiddling her thumbs while they got beers from the fridge in the kitchen. How they could stand the place with dirty dishes piled in the sink, wet cartons moldering on the counter and clumps of spilled food rotting on the table, she couldn't fathom.

Debbie and Faith came back first. Deb plopped her chubby body into an upholstered chair at one end of the couch while Faith perched on an arm of the couch. Jimmie and Paul came in next, carrying wooden chairs from the kitchen. Cora wondered what horrid things were pasted on the wicker seats of the chairs. Patrick and Carol were last into the living room. Every one of the students carried bottles of beer but no one offered any to Cora. She had expected that and took a bottle of water out of the backpack she had placed on the bare wooden floor at her feet.

"All here?" Cora had called the meeting and knew everyone had come. It was just her way of taking control at the start. Patrick made a show of counting each person on his fingers.

"Alright, then." Cora ignored Patrick's smart-ass play. "Patrick, what's the latest on the building site?"

Patrick peered around to make sure he had everyone's attention. Faith was murmuring to Deb and he gave them a dirty look. They giggled but began to pay attention. He ran a hand through his wavy brown hair. "The fire destroyed most of the wood frames. It cost them a few days. And I think it achieved our goal."

Cora held up her hand. "That's enough, Patrick. If you're not going to tell us the whole truth, what's the point of your reporting?"

Patrick looked chagrinned. "I was summing up, Cora," he whined.

"You took a gun. You shot at Mr. Carde. You could have killed him." Her voice was quiet but full of outrage. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"I didn't hit him. I know how to shoot, Cora." Patrick sounded like a truculent child. Cora gave him a look of sheer disgust.

"Did I tell you to take a gun?"

"No," Patrick denial was loud and vehement. "But you didn't tell me not to take it."

"You are an idiot," said Babs sinking into the cushions of her chair. "We could all go to prison... taking a gun."

Cora stood. She began pacing across the room and back into the group. "We could go to prison for setting the fire. That's arson. That's a crime. Murder is worse but we're all looking at jail time if anyone breathes a word of this. We're in deep now."

Faith looked amazed. "I didn't sign up for this." She, too, sounded like a ten-year-old. Cora sighed.

Paul stood up from his kitchen chair and held up both hands. "Hey. Cut it out." He turned to Faith and Deb. "We all signed up for this. This company, this Civilian Defence whatever it is, is going to trample all over personal privacy. It will be as bad or even worse than Google or Facebook. It's going to use military software to bug all of us. Going to jail would be worth it if we could put a big monkey wrench into this evil company."