Martial Law Read Free Page B

libertarian, I have held that position for decades!”
    The crowd roared its approval. Drew thought the roof was going to blow off the building. Buffett, clearly enjoying the moment, approached the front of the stage and whipped the parrot headfaithful into a feeding frenzy. Holding his right hand to his head emulating a shark fin, Buffett swayed back and forth as Abbie spoke. His fans responded and pressed closer to the stage, tipping over the metal barriers that were designed to create a protective buffer.
    Instinctively, Drew stepped towards Abbie. He was never comfortable with this evening’s campaign appearance. The secret service team had no time to evaluate the venue and prepare appropriate contingency plans. Abbie was not a rock star. She was going to be the next vice president of the United States and had no business sharing a stage with this circus act.
    Abbie paused, waiting for the noise inside the arena to subside. The roar of the adoring crowd was so overwhelming that no one heard the sound of the transformer exploding outside the front entrance at the Donald L. Tucker Civic Center, which was simultaneously thrust into darkness.
     

Chapter 3
    September 3, 2016
    9:12 p.m.
    73 Tremont
    Boston, Massachusetts
     
    “Sir, I was not able—” started Lowe before Morgan shouted him down.
    “Obviously, Malcolm! Get the pilot ready. We’re going to Florida.”
    “Sir, I believe the planes will be grounded under the circumstances.”
    Morgan was fuming. He was angry that his carefully orchestrated plans were out of control—placing Abigail in grave danger. He was also annoyed with Lowe because he stated the obvious when the situation called for inventive solutions. Morgan threw the phone at the fireplace.
    “Dammit, Malcolm, I know that! Get the Sikorsky ready. Call the pilot now!”
    Morgan stared out onto Boston Common. This complication was not what he envisioned. The darkness was expected, but the fact that Abigail was not within his protective grasp was unforeseen. This event— the reset —was carefully planned and would achieve the desired result. History will prove it was necessary .
    I can fix this . There is nothing that time and money can’t solve .
    “Sir,” interrupted Lowe, “the pilot has concerns.”
    Uncharacteristically, Morgan exploded and cursed. “I don’t give a flying fuck about his concerns. Give me the damn phone!” Morgan walked to the window and pushed against the cold glass with his left hand. His palms were sweaty, and he was feeling some pressure in his chest. He calmed himself as he addressed the helicopter pilot.
    “We are going to Florida now. What is the closest military installation to Tallahassee?” Morgan listened to his pilot. He shook his head. “The power is irrelevant—we’re going anyway! What are our options?” Morgan rubbed his face and began to flex his left arm that was stiffening slightly.
    “Not Eglin—too much activity. Camp Blanding will be better. It’s smaller, less conspicuous. I’ll make the arrangements. We’re on our way to Norwood. Hurry!”
    Morgan handed Lowe the cell phone. He closed his eyes and rubbed both temples. This isn’t happening. I don’t need this right now. Sirens from first-responder vehicles could be heard through the darkness. There isn’t much time .
    “Malcolm, get Jacobs on the phone.” Lowe dialed and handed the phone to Morgan.
    “Hello,” said Jacobs, who was on speaker. The roar of the voices was deafening.
    “This is John Morgan. Listen to me very carefully.”
    “Sir, the power just went out in the arena. May I call you back in a moment?”
    “No, Jacobs! Listen to me. Tell Abigail to meet me at Camp Blanding in the morning. Do you understand me?”
    “Sir, yes, of course. But we have the plane ready to return her to Boston. May I call you back?”
    “Dammit, Jacobs! Pay attention! Tell Abigail to be at Camp Blanding tomorrow morning. I will pick her up. Understood?”
    “Yes, sir. But