Martial Law (16 page)

“Somebody will become very wealthy replacing that equipment,” interrupted Mr. Lowell, glancing at Mr. Cabot.

“It’s not just economic loss,” said Julia. She needed to dissuade some fears. “There will be a loss of lives. This is why we’ve gone to great lengths to prepare. We’ve made every attempt to insulate ourselves from the health and famine issues as well as the societal collapse that is likely.”

“We’ve seen society collapse all year,” added Mrs. Lodge. “I can only imagine what it will be like soon.”

“We see the signs already,” said Sarge. “Shock is being replaced with a feeling of dread today. Hysteria is not that far behind.”

“And then mayhem,” said Mr. Cabot.

“Precisely,” added Mr. Lowell. “This country has been on the brink for quite some time. Is there any doubt it will fall apart quickly?” Again silence overtook the room. Julia looked at Sarge, seeking guidance.
Should I say more, or should we break out the pinochle cards
?

Sarge answered for her. “The next several days will provide us more answers. At some point, the President will have to address the nation in some fashion. What he says may set the tone for how people react. An uplifting message of hope will calm fears. Any other tone might exacerbate problems.” Again, silence.

Chapter 31

Monday, September 5, 2016

8:55 a.m.

100 Beacon

Boston, Massachusetts

It was appropriate on this Labor Day 2016 to assign duties to all of their guests. The wives were all tasked with monitoring the communications system Julia designed—the Digital Carrier Pigeon.

Julia retrieved a handheld scanner, a ham radio, a CB radio, a portable world band radio, and another satellite phone from the Faraday cages on the eighth floor.

The Bearcat scanner was chosen because of its portability and ease of use. With TrunkTracker technology, it was the first handheld unit that required no programming. The user-friendly digital scanner required the user to input their local zip code, and the unit immediately broadcast communications used by aircraft, public safety, weather spotters, and the military. It was the best way to monitor local activities.

The BaoFeng dual band two-way radio was perfect for use while the Yaesu base unit and its antenna were being set up. Ham radios were used throughout the world, and Julia cultivated an extensive list of contacts. Her fellow
hammers
would share information with each other regarding military and geopolitical activities, as well as assist in a future recovery effort. The BaoFeng could monitor ham networks while also being used as a means of communication between the penthouse and the rooftop observation team.

The Midland portable CB unit had always been a favorite of truckers and travelers. In addition to its forty citizen band channels, the Midland had ten NOAA channels. Sarge would carry one in his car in the event he had to leave the building. A CB unit had a longer range than a typical two-way radio.

The Sony portable world band radio was a capable backup to the satellite Internet system. With the lack of AM and FM broadcasting from the states due to the power outage, worldwide broadcasts could be heard during the daytime. The BBC was one of the most prominent shortwave broadcasters available on world band radio.

Finally, Sarge and Julia would each carry their satellite phones. Each of the Loyal Nine had one, except for Abbie, who was always protected by secret service. Both Steven and Katie had their satphones with them, but they’d failed to check in last night as promised. It was too early to panic, Sarge said to Julia last night.
Those two can take care of themselves.

Sarge returned from the rooftop where, with the assistance of his new right arm, Dr. Peabody, he connected the HughesNet satellite dish and the ham radio antenna.

“You should be good to go,” said Sarge. “I’ll work on the DirecTV hookup this afternoon. Art and I want to go to Battery Wharf and look for the Endicotts.”

“But they haven’t called and could be anywhere,” said Julia.

“We talked about that, but we feel it’s our obligation to look,” said Sarge. “Mr. Morgan would expect that of me.” Julia knew Sarge was right, and there was no sense in arguing. This morning appeared to be quiet in their Back Bay neighborhood, so she reluctantly acquiesced.

“I understand. Let’s try again to raise them on the satphone,” said Julia. “Why don’t you round up your sidekick and gear.”

“I’ve got the truck in the garage. I’m going to take an AR-15 with us. Art claims he’s comfortable with one. I don’t want to find out today.” Sarge gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Listen, before you go, I’ll let the ladies know the plan. They can monitor the scanner and CB radio for activity between here and the Battery Wharf area. If there’s any sign of trouble, we’ll raise you on the two-way.” She handed him two of the BaoFeng portable units. “At least this time, you can carry some comms with you.”

“I need to think about this for a moment,” said Sarge. “There are a few ways to get there, each with its risks. Granted, it’s only a few miles, but Battery Wharf is on the opposite of downtown. Ordinarily, the quickest way would be to take Storrow along the river and connect over to Commercial Street.”

“Are you concerned with traffic?”

“Not necessarily. I’ve watched the outflow of vehicles all morning. People are fleeing the city.”

“I don’t blame them,” said Julia. “Then why not go against the flow?”

“Mass General is on the way, and I’m afraid there’ll be a mass of humanity there, pardon the pun.”

“Ha-ha, I get it. But you’re right. You could easily get bogged down. What’s your other option?”

“I could approach from the south by taking Boylston and picking up Atlantic Avenue.”

“Okay,” said Julia cautiously. She could see where Sarge was heading with this. “Chinatown.”

“On any other day, Art and I would stop at Hei La Moon’s and enjoy a plate of dim sum,” said Sarge. “I’m not sure about Chinatown during the apocalypse.”

Julia could picture it. Fried dough stuffed with shrimp and then wrapped with rice noodles.

“Last but not least, drive straight through the concrete jungle?” asked Julia.

“I could take the direct route through the heart of our fair city. We could get bogged down. I have no idea what to expect today. Yesterday was different because we were traversing the suburbs. Even then, the signs were there. As time passes, it will become more dangerous.”

Julia took Sarge in her arms to provide them both a much-needed hug. Common, everyday decisions took on more import now—life or death significance. “Get ready and I’ll try them one last time. I’ll tell the ladies our plan. They can tell me if they’ve heard any chatter on the police scanner.”

“I love you,” said Sarge as he tore himself away. “We’ll hurry back, I promise.” Julia didn’t want to let go, but she didn’t want Sarge to know she was worried about him. The last thing he needed on his mind was her emotions weighing on his shoulders.

“I love you more,” she said as he headed for the stairwell.

Chapter 32

Monday, September 5, 2016

11:25 a.m.

100 Beacon

Boston, Massachusetts

Sarge knew this pickup wasn’t going to be routine. He wasn’t sure if the Endicotts were home. But he also knew John Morgan had placed the lives of his fellow Boston Brahmin in the Loyal Nine’s hands.
It was Sarge’s duty
. Traffic was light on Beacon as he passed the Massachusetts State House. The gold-leaf dome glistened in the morning sun. In its two-hundred-and-twenty-year history, the
hub of the solar system
, as Oliver Wendell Holmes called it, contained the offices of some of the most influential politicians in history, including John Hancock, Samuel Adams, and Calvin Coolidge.

Sarge recalled the day his grandfather left office as governor. The large main doors entering the main hall of the building were only opened when the President or foreign heads of state visited and when the outgoing governor exited the building on their last day of office. This ceremony was known as the
Lone Walk
and had been a tradition for hundreds of years. It was an emotional day for Sarge as a young boy. On that day, he realized the importance of our republic form of government and its seamless transfer of power.
Will Americans forget how lucky we are to have a peaceful transition of power from the outgoing government to the new one
?

“We’re going in,” Sarge said as he passed Park Street. Empty cars littered the urban landscape, but there was no evidence of accidents. He weaved his way through the maze of one-way streets towards Boston City Hall. As he turned onto Court Street, traffic suddenly stopped. There were thousands of people crowded in the plaza surrounding the building. They were pushing and shoving to force their way toward the entrance.

“What the hell?” exclaimed Dr. Peabody. “And where are the cars associated with all of these people?”

“From what I can see, they’re transients,” replied Sarge. “Look over there. Is that a FEMA truck?” A single tractor trailer rig was parked near the front steps of city hall. Sarge could not see what they were handing out, but he suspected one truckload wasn’t going to satisfy this crowd.

“This has the potential for disaster,” said Sarge. “I’m gonna try to do a U-turn in front of the Boston Transit station. We need to avoid this powder keg in the making.” As he made the turn, the shouts from the crowd exploded like Gillette stadium full of Patriots fans decrying a bad call by the referee. Apparently, FEMA had already run out of freebies.

“Clear on my side, Sarge,” said Dr. Peabody. “Let’s get out of here.”

It took them another twenty minutes to make their way to the Battery Wharf hotel. Julia’s voice came over the two-way.

“Sarge, do you read me? Over.”

“Go ahead.”

“There appears to be a disturbance of some kind at city hall. You might want to avoid that.”

“Yeah, we know. We were almost in the middle of it. Have you heard of anything else?”

“No,” replied Julia. “I’ve tried calling the Endicotts continuously since you left. My guess is their satphone is dead.”

Of course it is.

“Okay, we’ll keep you posted. Out.” Sarge made his way up Commercial Street and approached the Battery Wharf entrance slowly.

“They have the entry blocked,” said Dr. Peabody. “I think it’s intentional based upon the way the vehicles are angled. You won’t be able to turn down Battery Street or Battery Wharf.” Sarge surveyed his options. After finding an opening, he pulled into an alley across Commercial.

“I have no problem walking, but carrying
those
is not such a good idea,” said Sarge, nodding toward the backseat and the AR-15s. They both looked around for a moment to see if there was any obvious danger. Dr. Peabody spoke first.

“At the moment, the threats are raising hell at city hall. Let’s cover the guns and try to exit the vehicle when nobody is paying attention.”

“Agreed. At least for today, the sight of a moving vehicle is not out of the ordinary. If the Boston Wharf security team thought to block the two entrances to their property, it’s entirely possible they’re armed at the entrance.” They waited for a moment and looked to see if anyone was watching their movements. Finally, Sarge was ready.

“Okay, let’s go,” Sarge said. “Just two guys taking a stroll down the Harborwalk for lunch at Aragosta’s.”

“A meatball ciabatta for me, and the rigatoni for my friend.”
Those days are over, for years
.

As they approached the entry, absent were the traditional bellmen for the Fairmont, now replaced by guys in dark suits with matching sunglasses.

Sarge whispered, “I’ll state our business and have them do the work for us. I doubt they’ll let us inside, especially without surrendering our weapons. That’ll never happen.”

Sarge and Dr. Peabody approached the men, who spoke first.

“Nobody is allowed entry unless they are a verified guest or resident,” said a husky Asian man.

“No problem. My name is Professor Henry Sargent, and my friend is Dr. Arthur Peabody. We’re here to check—”

“I know,” interrupted the other guard. Two additional security personnel appeared from their immediate left and right.
Was it something I said?

“You know what?” asked Sarge.

“I know who Dr. Peabody is,” he replied. “He did my wife’s boobs. Sir, her name is Bobbie McDermott. You might not remember.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. McDermott, but I don’t remember,” said Dr. Peabody. “But it is nice to see you again. How is your wife?”

“Divorced,” he replied coldly. “She ran off with another dude and took her boobs with her.”
This just keeps getting better and better.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry about that,” said Dr. Peabody.

“That’s not your fault, Doc. She turned out to be a bitch.”

The big guy spoke again. “How can we help you, gentlemen?”

Sarge took a deep breath. Picking up the Endicotts was supposed to be in and out. No problems. “We came to check on our friends, the Endicotts. They live in one of the penthouses—next to Patricia Cornwell and her husband.”

“You mean her girlfriend?”

“What?” asked Sarge.

“Patricia Cornwell, the author. She’s married to her girlfriend.”

“Okay. Well, would you mind telling the Endicotts that we’re here? Tell them we’re here to pick them up.”

Big guy
gave instructions to one of his team, who immediately went inside. After an awkward ten minutes of relative silence, a bellman came out with a cart of luggage and the Endicotts in tow.

“Hello, Sarge,” said Henry Endicott. The Endicott family fortune was based on the most advanced, modern weaponry available on Earth.
Would they defend America when we are at our most vulnerable
?

“Hello, Mr. Endicott,” greeted Sarge with a handshake. “We have been very worried about the two of you.”