“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Hannah asked, from the doorway.
“No,” Sarah said, softly. Then, “The others?”
“Winston was the last to leave. The streets are in utter chaos.”
“I expect so.” Sarah took another swallow of wine. She finished it, considered having another and then put the glass aside. She stood. “Any word from Jenks?”
“Not yet.”
Sarah had sent Jenks out to find out, well, anything she could. Not that she expected there to be anything. No one seemed to know what the hell was going to happen next, though it was plain that Albion had mobilised in force to flood the streets ahead of the TOAN conference. Mass arrests were being reported. Other private security firms were also vying loudly for the government’s attentions, and Nigel Cass himself was reportedly claiming a great victory for the forces of law and order. He was going to get what he wanted, and there was very little she could do about it right now. Winston and the others were scared into uselessness, and she didn’t blame them.
She was scared too, as scared as she’d ever been in her life. Something monstrous had been let loose and she knew already that getting it back in the bottle would be a titanic struggle.
She wandered out of the dining room, already planning her next move. Or trying to, rather. Her home was a relatively modest terraced house in Varden Street. It had been expensively decorated, by a professional interior designer. She went to the kitchen and looked through the sliding doors at the superbly appointed garden space at the rear of the house. The air was hazy with smoke. The breeze was carrying it east, from the river.
Of late, she had the feeling that there was a hell of a lot going on that she couldn’t perceive. Currents of power were shifting. But to where? And to whom?
“What now?” Hannah asked. She’d followed Sarah, quiet as a mouse.
Her boss studied her. Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “Did they know it was going to happen? Did they… get out?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
Hannah turned. “How did you convince Faulkner to let me go?”
Sarah paused. “I… gave him something he wanted.”
“What?”
Sarah studied her assistant. “Why does it matter?”
Hannah met her gaze without flinching. “I think I have a right to know.”
Sarah turned away. “It doesn’t matter now. That particular bullet has been fired.”
Hannah grabbed her arm. Sarah stopped. Looked down. Then looked up at Hannah.
The young woman didn’t let go. “Sometimes I wonder why I stay,” she said, softly. “People ask me all the time how I can work for someone like you.”
Sarah was silent for a moment. “And what do you tell them?” she asked, finally. She fixed Hannah with a cold eye. “What is your answer to that question, Hannah?” She let some of the anger she was feeling creep into her voice. She was angry that Hannah could be so ungrateful. Angry that she was hiding something. But mostly she was angry that everything seemed to be spinning out of control, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Hannah let her go. “I think… I think you mean well. But I think somewhere along the way you forgot why you got into politics. It’s become an end unto itself.”
Sarah stared at her. Then, she laughed, low and long. She shook her head and looked away. Hannah’s words stung. Maybe there was some truth there. Maybe Hannah was just naïve. Both could be true.
“Things are going to get worse now,” Hannah continued. “They’ve been getting pretty bad for a long time, but now…”
“Now the fuse has been lit,” Sarah said. She took a deep breath. “There’s no going back from this. We can only go forward.” She looked back towards the window, trying to decide what sort of politician she was going to be.
A scattering of ash, carried by the breeze, fell over the garden. Decision made, she turned back. “You want to know what I told Faulkner?”
Hannah said nothing. Sarah told her. Then, she turned and left, giving her aide some privacy.
Olly looked out the window of the grimy corner café, watching the new Albion checkpoint being constructed across the street. “This is so bad,” he said. The café was empty, had been closed down for months. According to Ro, it was a Kelley business, now shuttered and just waiting for the day they burned it down in order to collect the insurance money.
The interior smelled like stale coffee grounds and rotten bananas, but it was tolerable. They’d come in the back, looking for a place to wait out the confusion. Unfortunately, things didn’t seem to be getting any better.
Albion was all over the city now. They were looking for something, but Danny couldn’t tell them what. The fugitives had abandoned the APV as soon as possible. Krish and the others had scattered, as per DedSec protocol. Olly had told them he was planning to do the same. And he would, as soon as he found Liz’s killer.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Danny said. “We should be getting out of the city.” He sat across from Olly in the same booth, watching his former comrades in arms set up their checkpoint. His ACR assault rifle was on his lap, concealed under a newspaper, and he was stripping it down and rebuilding it without looking at it. It seemed to soothe him, though it made Olly nervous.
“Feel free,” Ro said. She sat at the counter, her elbows resting on the countertop. She gestured to Olly. “Me and him got unfinished business.”
Olly nodded. “Me and your sis had a good talk while we were banged up. We’re both looking for the same person. And from what she says, maybe
