Richard Stephenson - Resistance

With a quick shower and fresh clothing boosting his spirits, Richard exited his quarters and made his way to the command center. He was looking forward to seeing his son but didn’t want to pull him out of school. “Hal, what time does my son go to lunch?”

“Eleven thirty, sir.”

“When he breaks for lunch, have him return to our quarters.”

“Of course, sir.”

Richard stopped outside the command center and waited for Hal to announce his arrival. Howard did not stand up to greet him as he entered; he didn’t even take his eyes from the screen before him.

“Hal tell you the good news?”

“Yes, Mr. President.” Richard was accustomed to Howard’s lack of social graces. He’d given up trying to shake the man’s hand since he seldom returned the gesture.

“Richard, what have I said about the ‘Mr. President’ nonsense?”

“I wasn’t aware you’d resigned.” Richard smirked, enjoying the friendly banter.

“I haven’t resigned! I just hate all the fancy protocol!”

“It was a joke, Howard.”

“Not a very good one.”

“I’ll try harder next time.” Richard enjoyed giving the president a hard time. He had become very fond of the man in the last eighteen months. Howard Beck was the most brilliant man he’d ever known. He could expound upon any number of things, and it would immediately go so far above Richard’s head that the man might as well have been speaking Greek. Richard loved to aim subtle sarcasm and humor at Howard and watch the genius struggle to comprehend it; it wasn’t the same, but it was fun to turn the tables on him.

“Richard, before you tell me what’s on your mind, I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure.”

“Max thinks I’m just being paranoid, but I have concerns about the security of Beck Castle.”

“You are paranoid, Howard, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“I’m growing concerned that security is becoming too lax down here. We have far too many civilians living here. If I had my way, we’d empty out this place of all non-essential personnel.”

“Howard, you can’t run the PSA by yourself. The entire staff down here is dedicated to keeping our country together. You can’t ask them to live here full time without their families. The refugees we took in after the collapse have nowhere to go; we can’t just evict them.”

“You sound like my son.”

“Well, he’s right, you know. What exactly are you afraid of? Everyone granted access to Beck Castle undergoes extensive security checks.”

“That’s all well and good, Richard, but what happens if a Silent Warrior or a UAE spy manages to get down here? We’ll lose everything. All our accomplishments will be for nothing.”

“Howard, the only thing we can do is continue to be fiercely vigilant in our screening process.”

Howard gave up and changed the subject. “You have any plans for this coming Monday?”

“I’m sure I do.”

“Want to come to Seattle with me?”

“Not particularly. Why?”

“Senator Wilson is having a banquet or some nonsense.”

“You mean you’re actually going? I’m shocked. Don’t recall you ever going to any social function.”

“I haven’t, but my son won’t stop badgering me about it. He keeps insisting that I’m an inspiration or a symbol of something. I don’t really understand the point. I figure if I go to one he’ll leave me alone for a while.”

“He’s right, you know. The people want to see their president.”

“Will you come with me?”

“Have you asked Max?”

“Not yet, but I want at least one of you to go with me.”

“If he doesn’t want to go, I guess I’m your man. Is Max here? I’d like to talk to both of you.”

“I’m not sure. Hal?”

“Director Harris is in his office, sir. Would you like me to summon him?”

“Please.”

“Very good, sir.”

***

Maxwell Harris sat at the cramped kitchen table next to his wife, Elizabeth, sipping his lukewarm coffee as she breast-fed their four-month-old son, Thomas. Max was studying the holographic read-out projected above his tablet and making plans for the day.

“Busy day?” asked Elizabeth.

“Very.”

“How’s your leg?”

“Same.”

Elizabeth leaned forward and put her hand on her husband’s. “What’s wrong?”

Max’s smile was perfunctory, betrayed by the exhaustion in his eyes. “Nothing, sorry. Didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Don’t know what you’re complaining about, silly. I’m the one that got up with your son three times.”

“I know you did, Momma. I’m just feeling cooped up living underground. I’d like to get some fresh air and see the sun for a change.”

“You’re the one in charge of security; no one can stop you if you choose to break your own rules.”

“Gotta set the example, but it’s still hard. We can’t have people coming and going as they please; we gotta keep the location of this place a secret.”

“I know. So what’s the plan for today?”

“I have a few reports to follow up on. I got an anonymous tip that Janet Smith is being beaten by her husband. She has a black eye and made up some story at the infirmary about tripping over some misplaced furniture.”

“Anonymous? How is that possible with Hal watching our every move?”

“It’s not. The first thing I did was have Hal play back the security footage in the hallway in front of my office. Turns out Janet’s neighbor slid a note under my door.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“It’s no different from when we were cops in Texas. Can’t do much if Janet doesn’t press charges. She’ll more than likely side with her husband out of fear and continue with the lie.”

“I know you better than that, Maxwell. You’re not going to just drop this.”

“I’ll tell Mr. Scumbag that his landlord will boot his ass up to the surface if he doesn’t get his act together. That’ll get his heart right real quick.”

“You can also tell him that if I so much as see one scratch on Janet, he’ll have to deal with me.”

“Well, my dear, you are the muscle in our gang.” Max shot her a mischievous grin.

“I don’t know about that. You can whoop some serious ass with that cane. Maybe we can get one with a sword inside of it.”

“Cute. What’re your plans for the day?”

“Debbie is going to hang out here today. When little man here goes down for his nap, Howard wants me to review the security protocols for an emergency evacuation.”

“Really? Why? Is he concerned about something and not telling us?”

“I don’t think so. You know how Howard is. He wants a contingency plan for everything.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Richard’s due back today. That should make for some excitement.”

Max smiled. “Totally forgot about that.”

Max stood, grimacing as he reached for his cane. The injury to his hip and knee had left him in chronic pain for years. Three or four times a year the pain was so intense that he relied on a cane just to shuffle about. This particular spell had lasted the better part of a month, which was unusual. He leaned down and kissed his son’s head, then his wife’s cheek.

“I love you,” Elizabeth said.

“Love you, too, baby. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Max limped his way to the elevator and made his way to his office. Peering through the large window, he scanned the lobby of the security department to find his dedicated constables already hard at work. He knocked on the glass and waved Dennis Twigg to his office.

“Sir?”

“Sit down, Dennis.”

Dennis Twigg was a valued member of his security team. He’d served six years as a military policeman and twelve years in the Border Patrol. He was the first constable Max recruited to help him maintain law and order in Beck Castle.