Tempest

Tempest Read Free Page A

Book: Tempest Read Free
Author: Kelly Meding
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some big, juicy secret. “Behind me, you can see the retired Ranger Corps Headquarters. Or rather, you can see what’s left of it. For more than a century, the Rangers stood for hope and peace. Two things our country could believe in. Two things we needed. But the same organization that our country once looked up to is now a symbol of devastation and loss.”
    Teresa made a rude noise. Renee gave the television the finger.
    I longed to be at that press conference, so I could use a gust of wind to knock his ass right off the podium and into the press gaggle hanging onto his every word.
    “As governor of California,” Winstead continued, “I’ve carried the burden of this symbol, a stain on what was once a great and thriving city.”
    Stain. Nice.
    Ass-face.
    “I’m here today to show you that I’m a candidate who can get things done, and that I will continue to do so when I am elected president.”
    The back of my neck prickled, and I sat up straighter.
    Winstead produced a sheet of paper from the podium. “I have with me today a signed document from the director of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives, giving this parcel of land back to the city of Los Angeles.” He glanced off-camera and beckoned to someone. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mayor Christina Ainsworth.”
    No one in the lounge said a word as Los Angeles’s mayor walked up to join Governor Winstead. She wore a smart suit and an irritating smirk that said she knew exactly what was about to happen.
    And deep in the pit of my stomach, so did I. Bleaching out the stain.
    “Mayor Ainsworth,” Winstead said, “it’s my privilege to present this deed to you and the City of Los Angeles.”
    “Thank you very much, Governor,” Ainsworth replied, her smirk turning into a delighted smile.
    “Son of a bitch,” Teresa said, breaking the silence in the lounge.
    The gaggle of reporters went nuts. Winstead raised his hands in a shushing gesture, then pointed. “Go ahead, Shannon,” he said.
    The network camera shifted around to zero in on a woman with a network microphone. “Shannon Milton, Channel Four,” she said. “Mayor Ainsworth, now that you hold ownership of the old Ranger Corps Headquarters, what do you plan to do with it?”
    The question on everyone’s mind.
    I curled my fingers into the fabric of my jeans.
    The camera pulled in close on Ainsworth. “Twenty-five years ago, Los Angeles was synonymous with the entertainment industry,” she said. “Since then our city has survived immeasurable unnatural damage from Meta-powered humans, and we continue our struggle to rebuild what they tried to destroy. While we’ve succeeded in maintaining a healthy music presence, film is all but nonexistent now. My goal is to change that, to bring the film industry back to Hollywood where it belongs. And rather than dust off old studios gone to rot, we’ll be providing land for new studios.”
    She pointed at the buildings over her shoulder. “Once upon a time, a major studio thrived on this lot, and another studio will thrive here again.”
    “Un-fucking-believable,” Renee said. Instead of angry, though, she seemed sad.
    A different reporter got his turn to ask a question: “Mayor Ainsworth, how do you anticipate the Rangers will respond to this announcement?”
    “The Ranger Corps has not officially existed for more than fifteen years,” Ainsworth said. “They no longer function in any capacity. The group of Metahumans currently operating in Los Angeles parted ways with the federal government six months ago and, as such, has no official government standing. We need to move forward, not just here in Los Angeles, but as a country. We can’t do that while living under the shadows of the past, and the buildings behind me are just that. They are the past.”
    The past—more polite than “stain.”
    “But how do you expect them to respond to this, Mayor? It’s got to feel like an incredible slap in the face.”
    Felt more like a punch

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