Threat Multiplication: Slowpocalypse, #2

The Slowpocalypse

AS SOCIETY SLOWLY started falling apart, lawyer Jonathan Miles helped design a massive new government project—a number of secured, integrated Federal University and Research Complexes with their own self-sustaining experimental communities—and hid within those plans a secret scheme to use the compounds as arks to weather the impending collapse of civilization. He became the director of the first to be completed, in Central Florida.

But events forced him to seal that FURCS compound off from the outside world prematurely, hastening the decline, and making them all a target for those who want the facilities for themselves.

Now this small community fights to survive and build a new society at the same time—while the old one crumbles around them.

Returning Characters

(in order of appearance)

ANTHONY NELSON—Chief of FURC Security and a former FBI agent, among other things. He’s a flirt, but he’s no Romeo. Really.

BEN LASKEY—a boy genius and officer trainee in FURC Security. He imprinted on Kat like a duckling after she saved his life.

KATHERINE (KAT) MILES—an officer in FURC Security who is now a lieutenant in the Guards, she’s the daughter of the FURC director. And should not be messed with.

LISA COURDRAY—single mother and former homicide detective, she is a senior officer in FURC Security and is responsible for finishing the training of her rookie partner, David.

DAVID BELUE—a newly made officer in FURC Security, he’s the son of the FURC’s deputy director. He’s keen and rather thinks a lot. Maybe too much.

KEN CAMERON—a former soldier and sharpshooter who became a successful building contractor, he was appointed chief of the Guards after he shot and killed his predecessor. Can seem gruff.

TIM MACTIERNEY—a sergeant in the Guards who blushes easily for a soldier.

CRYSTAL SORENSON—a FURC student and part-time housekeeper for the deputy director. Under suspicion as a possible mole.

SUSAN WELLMAN—officer in FURC Security and a no-nonsense business major.

PAUL MACKLIN—level-headed physics major and an officer in FURC Security.

MALCOLM CARRUTHERS—sergeant in the Guards with a chip on his shoulder.

CAROLINE SANDERSON—an experienced actress, Kat’s mother, and a popular personality in the FURC community. She may appear to be a diva, but there’s more to her than meets the eye.

VERITY BELUE—the FURC’s deputy director, she may seem a glorified secretary, but she’s also highly competent and can keep a secret.

JONATHAN MILES—director of the FURC, he’s the one responsible for the mess they’re all in.

And a couple others who should remain a surprise.

Prologue

Distant Rumbles

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In the FURC Security Chief’s office

9:50 p.m. Friday, February 28th

ANTHONY SAT UP in the dark office and scrubbed his hands across his face to get rid of the last vestiges of sleep. He shifted his feet to the floor and leaned forward, stretching his arms and yawning. That out of his system, he rose from the sofa and leaned over to hit the master light switch on his FURCS pad and flood the room with artificial brightness.

Now he felt more alert. A short nap and he was good for patrolling all night long—once he’d called Kat to make sure all was well with her. He paused to stare at his reflection in the mirror and fix his hair. Even in this harsh light I don’t look my age.

Then the lights went out.

Anthony frowned for a moment in the dark, but before he had a chance do anything, the lights came back on. He grinned and shook his head at himself. They’d been expecting this. Someone had to cut off the power someday—he was only surprised that it had taken this long—and now that day had arrived.

The FURCSnet had automatically switched the compound over to the internal power supply. Now everything was alright, except for all the people annoyed by blinking lights as various systems rebooted. Though the transition had been smooth enough people shouldn’t be too upset.

Still, he ought to get out and see for himself that everyone was behaving. Miles hadn’t considered it prudent to broadcast these back-up plans to everybody—and Anthony had had no choice but to agree. Despite the confident assurances he’d given the director, he and his officers had failed to uncover any more moles.

Perhaps there were none to be found. But just because they’d found no evidence was not proof of their absence. And Anthony had his suspicions. So assuming Governor Roberts still had people on the inside, it would be better if only a few in positions of responsibility knew what was coming.

Stretching more thoroughly, Anthony thought it might not matter if there had been other conspirators that remained uncaught. Since the governor’s failed effort to take over the FURC had lost him the support of the State National Guard, it was unlikely he could still pose much of a threat. Especially with the escalating chaos on the outside.

That fact should now be understood by anyone on the inside who might have worked for the man. Everyone in the community must have grasped the reality of their situation—they were all in the same boat. And whatever their feelings about that boat, they’d sink or survive together.

Of course now the boat had become an ark. And we’re sealed up tight and dry.

Still, Anthony had to keep looking for potential threats—and it was his job to know who to keep an eye on. It was also his job to patrol the compound. But before he went out, he’d call Kat to make sure she was alright. And maybe he’d find out how soon she’d be returning. It could be before dawn.

It had been a huge production to sneak Kat out the north gate in the wee hours of the morning, her and MacTierney. Hopefully that young man could keep her out of trouble. Right.

He reached to grab his FURCS pad from the top of the desk. But when he tried to get through to her, he got only a message informing him that there was no connection to the external cellular network.

He stifled a sigh of irritation and looked around his office, though there was no one there to see. No use being upset when he had his own in-house specialist. Ben should still be on duty.

Anthony stretched again to work out the last of his kinks, then walked to open the front door to his office. It was Hope sitting behind the duty desk with the back of her head to him.

He coughed gently to get her attention. Where is Trainee Laskey?

Hope swiveled in her chair and smiled at him. Ben and Susan just got back from their last patrol, Chief. Nothing to report. I think both of them are in the break room.

He nodded at her while he considered. Only he and Ken, and Kat’s parents, knew where Kat was—generally speaking—and what she was up to. And likely the deputy director as well—since Ms. Belue seemed to know everything Miles knew. Anthony hoped to keep that information from spreading any further until Kat was safely back home.

Please ask him to come see me in my office. No need to disturb Susan’s break—I only need Ben.

Of course, Chief. Hope beamed another smile at him as she slid out of the chair, then trotted down the corridor.

Leaving the door ajar, Anthony walked back to his desk intending to sit down in his chair and relax, but instead he found himself pacing back and forth across the carpet as he waited for Ben.

Presently the officer trainee arrived, pushing a little on the door—just enough to widen the opening and sidle in with a salute. Ben Laskey, reporting as ordered. Sir.

Anthony sighed. All these new, young recruits made him feel old. Shut the door behind you, Mr. Laskey.

As Ben closed the door, Anthony picked up his FURCS pad and tried again to get through. And got the same error message as before.

When he looked up and began to hand the pad over to his resident expert, he noticed the kid wasn’t wearing a weapon. Haven’t you qualified yet?

Ben blushed. It’s hopeless, sir. I’m just not cut out to go around shooting people. Susan can manage that if it’s needed.

Anthony tried to scowl. I don’t want you to depend on Officer Wellman to protect you if it comes to that. Besides, if you don’t at least qualify, I can’t promote you to a full officer. Which you should be by now. That was misleading. As chief, Anthony made the rules and could change them—or he could promote Ben regardless of his own policy. But that would set a bad precedent.

Yes, sir. I’ll try to find time to practice so I can qualify.

That’s better. I’m sure your partner or one of the others would be glad to give you some pointers. If that would help. Anthony grinned at him. And I’m not going to force you to shoot anybody—but I will require you to be armed when you’re on duty. As a precaution.

Ben smiled weakly. Thank you, sir.

The kid had to be wondering why that precaution would be necessary when only security officers and guards carried firearms. But Gray and Henson had smuggled several guns from the armory to arm the students they’d recruited for the governor, and not all of those had been recovered. Another detail that had been withheld from the community.

Probably the ones who’d fled the compound in the confusion that night had taken those guns with them. But the possibility remained that one or two might still be somewhere on the inside. And if they were, they’d likely be in the possession of moles yet undiscovered—a sobering thought. And enough for Anthony to reverse his previous policy. Now every officer was required to be armed on duty.

Alright, then. Now— Anthony finally handed his FURCS pad over. It won’t connect to another pad through the outside cellular network. Is there something wrong with it—or with the FURCSnet? Don’t tell me they’ve found a way to stop us piggybacking on their system?

Ben shook his head as he took the pad without looking at it. The closest cell sites started going on the fritz this afternoon. I don’t know what the trouble is, but the FURCSnet can’t connect, and there’s nothing we can do about it.

Anthony squinted at the kid. Nothing? I need to be able to make this call. And if Kat needs help, she needs to be able to get through.

Then Ben looked at the pad in his hand and his eyes widened. Officer Miles is outside? And so far away that the FURCSnet can’t connect directly?

"That’s confidential. And it’s Lieutenant Miles now. He wasn’t sure he should’ve mentioned that. Apparently Kat was the reason Ben had joined Security in the first place—and Anthony didn’t want the kid transferring to the Guards. The question is—how do I get in touch with her?"

The problem’s not on our end. It’s outside, so there’s little we can do.

Little was an improvement on nothing. "Could someone be blocking our access to the cell towers?"

Ben started to push up the glasses he no longer wore but caught himself. Doubtful, sir. It’s much more likely that they’re not maintaining the equipment properly. We don’t rely on the software they use to run their network, but we do depend on their physical infrastructure. If that breaks down...

"There has to be some way to get a signal."

We could send someone out to try and find out what’s wrong, and repair one of the closest cell stations—if it can be done. Or we could try bypassing them. While we can’t use the satellite uplink anymore, it’s possible to boost the signal strength from our own base station several fold at least.

Anthony took a deep breath. "Then maybe I’d get a direct connection? Can you do it?"

I’d have to do some research first, but I think Deputy Director Belue already understands how to make those modifications. It would be faster to get her to do it. But you still couldn’t establish a direct connection—the FURCS pads themselves only have a range of three to five miles. That close it would be able to connect already.

But we could bypass the local towers and connect to her pad through a more distant one?

Not necessarily, sir. There would have to be an operational cell site in range of wherever she is, and a chain of working sites between any we could reach and that one. I don’t know how likely that is, but the further away she is, the smaller the chance of making a connection.

Anthony sighed. It wasn’t much of a straw for him to grasp at, with everything out there in such a shambles, but it would have to do. Trying to mount a repair expedition to try to repair one of the closer cell towers was too much trouble—especially when Kat might be back by morning. Now he needed to call Ms. Belue and ask the favor.

Ben fidgeted. Sir, you know I’d do anything I could to help Officer Miles?

Anthony cleared his throat. Yes, I know, and there’s something you can do, while I see about getting the deputy director to increase our signal in the hope we can establish a connection. Then he nodded at the pad in Ben’s hand. I can set that to alert me when she gets into range of the FURCSnet wireless itself. But can that thing automatically tell me when an external connection is available?

There’s no user function for that, sir, but I can do a command hack to have it continually try for a connection. Then you’d be notified just the same as if there’s a direct signal.

A hack? Anthony frowned at the young man.

Ben blushed. Just the term that’s used—for a manual workaround. To do something no one programmed it for the operator to do.

Anthony nodded. Would you set it up? I’d like to know as soon as possible. By the way, you said three to five miles for a direct connection?

The kid looked up from fiddling with Anthony’s pad. It depends. The system was designed only to reach people who were inside the compound, or at least on the FURC lands surrounding it—like the Ag workers. But the actual range varies, based on atmospheric conditions and other factors.

I see. Not very helpful.

Poor Ben looked uneasy and Anthony felt frustrated. By the time Kat got close enough for a direct connection, it likely wouldn’t matter that she could call for help. Assuming she needed it.

He well knew she could take care of herself in most situations—it was the others that worried him. Worrying wouldn’t help her get home any quicker, but he’d be out there all night patrolling. And waiting. After always ragging her for going too fast, now he hoped she would rush.

Shrugging off his anxieties, he looked up to find Ben holding out the pad. You set it up already?

The kid nodded. It’ll let you know the second a connection can be made, either way. And you could also prepare a message to be sent automatically, the same way as through the FURCSnet direct. In case the connection doesn’t last.

Anthony sighed. Thank you for your help. It’ll have to be good enough. It looks to be a long night.

Then the lights went out again.

Chapter 1

Red Sky at Morning

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In rural Northern Florida

6:15 a.m. Saturday, March 1st

KAT STARED AT the simple iron gate before her. Not even five feet high. Too easy. Of course she’d been warned this inviting entrance was a deception, but she could see for herself it was a trap. She wouldn’t have fallen for anything so obvious.

She looked up and down the worn, weed infested lane that traveled past the gate—out here in the middle of nowhere surround by forest. On the other side of that gate, a winding gravel road weaved between tall trees toward a distant clearing. Since she wouldn’t be going that way, she’d have to find a way of her own. As always. She could almost hear Tony’s voice in her head, chiding her.

Kat grinned to herself as she moved with quiet care through the calm predawn. Tony kept accusing her of rushing headlong into danger, but for this mission she’d determined to show extreme caution. Even if that meant moving at a snail’s pace.

Whether it was taking two nights to crawl a distance people used to travel in less than three hours, or following this waist-high stretch of barbed wire fence one step at a time as it meandered around the property, she was able to exercise prudence. When she tried. Too bad Tony isn’t here to witness it.

Care was certainly called for here—she’d been told about some of the traps to look out for, but also that there’d be others she’d have to discover on her own. As long as I don’t find them the hard way.

Those traps weren’t the only things she needed to be wary of—in the still silence, she had to avoid making any noise to awaken the enemy around her. So far they’d not been alerted to her presence. And since she needed to keep it that way, she hoped they were all heavy sleepers.

Armed only with her Glock semi-auto and hoping she wouldn’t have to use it, she circled the estate until she estimated that she’d arrived roughly opposite the back entrance to the main house. The direct approach was always her favorite—in straight lines, only deviating to avoid the pitfalls in her path. The literal pitfalls in this case.

The thin cedars of this forest provided plenty of room to move, and among the moldering remains of fallen leaves and the broken-off branches of winter, there were new shoots trying to poke their way up. Not enough undergrowth to hamper her, but more than enough to hide some nasty surprises. So she gazed at the fence and beyond for a while, calculating.

She could ease herself over the barbed wire—or she could fly. Checking the ground behind her, Kat backed up a good ten yards before running straight ahead and leaping to land one foot on the top of a wooden post and push, propelling herself a further ten yards through the air. She bent her knees and nailed a perfect landing.

There she stood completely still as she scanned the ground ahead of her. Hearing and seeing nothing, she walked slowly forward, keenly aware of her surroundings with every step. She stopped before a suspiciously thick layer of leaves. Likely a pit with spikes at the bottom, but not one of the ones she’d been warned about.

Kat began circling slowly around the presumed pit when a tingle up her spine made her stop again and think. That trap might’ve been a little too obvious. Some of the most dangerous traps were those that lay in the path you would take avoiding a different threat. One you’re meant to see.

She crouched low and searched in the dim light of the false dawn for a tell-tale sign. When she saw a tiny droplet hanging suspended in the cold air, Kat thanked God for the dew—it had revealed a length of fishing line stretched between two trees.

Looking about, she still couldn’t see the trap it would spring. She found herself hesitating. Having discovered the trigger, she wondered if it would be best to try to avoid this trap she still couldn’t see. Or should I spring it?

She wasn’t indecisive by nature, but this was a delicate situation. Without knowing where the trap itself was, or how it had been constructed, she still might manage to set it off. Avoiding the trigger she had seen might not be enough. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure if she could spring it safely without understanding the nature of the trap.

Kat shook her head. If she wasn’t careful, she’d become as bad as David was for overthinking everything. A trap sprung is a danger defanged.

She retraced her steps until she could just make out the trip wire, crouched down to pick up a fallen branch about a foot long, and took careful aim. She sent the hunk of wood flying, spinning end over end in a shallow arc right across that invisible line. She felt the twang of resistance when the branch hit the wire and flipped over. And the following flurry was so fast she almost missed what happened.

She closed her