“Yeah, about that,” said St. George. “Thing is, we were just talking with Danielle and she—”
“She has decided to return to Los Angeles with us,” said Stealth. “And with Cerberus.”
“Ahhh,” said Smith. “That’s…that’s unfortunate.”
“Why?” Stealth shifted her hips and her shoulders tensed.
He took the clipboard in both hands. “The Cerberus Battle Armor System was developed under a DARPA contract, paid for with military funds. It’s government property. It stays here.”
Stealth took a step forward. Smith stepped back, bumping against the conference table. St. George set a hand on the cloaked woman’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Smith said. “I know you won’t believe me, but I didn’t want to play this card. I even went to bat for you guys. But the colonel’s firm on this. He wants the suit here and he wants her building more of them.”
“You might get the suit,” said St. George, “but not her. Danielle wants to come back to the Mount. She’s a private citizen. You can’t stop her.”
“Actually,” said Smith, “we can. She’s been a government employee since 2006. She’s been stop-lossed, too.”
“The stop-loss act applies to military personnel,” said Stealth,
“Thanks to a little clause in the Patriot Act, it applies to any government employee above a certain security level. The same badge that let her peek at all those other exoskeleton projects while she was building Cerberus is keeping her here and under Colonel Shelly’s command.”
“This is bullshit,” said St. George.
“It is also entrapment,” said Stealth. “We were brought out here under false pretenses for the sole purpose of seizing the Cerberus suit.” Her head tilted toward St. George. “As I tried to tell you.”
“Look, guys,” said Smith. “Guy and gal. You have to believe me, I didn’t think we’d ever need to talk about any of this. I thought Danielle would want to stay here at Yuma. I didn’t want to bring any of this up because I knew how you’d react.”
“We’ll fight you on this,” said St. George.
“You can’t. If you resist they’ll slap the ‘traitor’ label on you and have a court martial.”
“They can’t court martial us. We’re civilians.”
“Martial law,” said Smith. “What do you think it means? The Army is the law right now. They’re judge, jury, and executioner in any legal matters.”
“I’d like to see them try.”
“Look I know this seems like a bad thing at first, but you don’t need Cerberus in Los Angeles if you’ve got a platoon or three of soldiers stationed there. Heck, they could rotate in a squad of Freedom’s men and they’d probably be even more effective than the battlesuit.”
“Cerberus isn’t really the issue,” said St. George. “Danielle’s our friend. We’re not going to abandon her.”
“I’m sorry. I wish there was more I could do to help, but the colonel’s not going to bend on these points. I think you should—”
“What else is there?”
Smith glanced at her. “I don’t know what—”
“Your body language indicates continued reluctance. You have more to tell us.”
He sighed. “Yeah, there is. The other thing they want, the big thing really, is…” Smith rolled his shoulders and studied his shoes for a few moments.
“Yes?”
“Well…they want your power supply.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Smith felt the floor drop away from under his feet and the wall whirled around to slam into his back. The clipboard clattered away. His clothes were painfully tight. St. George had wrapped shirt, tie, and coat into his fist when he grabbed the smaller man.
“Where is he?”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Smith raised his arms as best he could in the twisted coat. He waved his palms. “I can’t…I’m not at liberty to say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ripples of heat and smoke flowed out of St. George’s mouth.
“I’m under orders not to tell you.”
“We are giving you new orders,” said Stealth.
“Look, it’s not that simple. I don’t like it either, but you need to see the big picture. You’ve got to calm down and listen if we’re going to work together, okay? You want to work with me, right?”
St. George loosened his grip and Smith slid down to the floor. “I’m listening.”
“Thank you.” He brushed the bigger wrinkles out of his shirt, adjusted his tie, and picked up his notes. “I’d like to help you. I would. But it pretty much amounts to treason and treason can get you shot around here.”
“Are citizens being executed?” asked Stealth.
“No, of course not. Hell, the stockade’s full of people who probably should’ve been executed for the crap they’ve done. But that’s bad for morale. That’s how you end up with a rebellion. And none of that helps rebuild America.”
St. George cracked his knuckles. “Where is Zzzap?”
Smith sighed. “The important thing is he’s fine and he’s safe. No one’s going to hurt him. But he’s way too valuable to the military. He’s a walking reactor, for Christ’s sake, and if these people are going to rebuild America they need power.”
Stealth crossed her arms. “Has he also been stop-lossed?”
“No,” said Smith. “They’re detaining him as a person of interest.”
“Oh, come on,” snapped St. George. “This is ridiculous.”
“Colonel Shelly must realize if we decide to free Zzzap, there is little his forces can do to stop us.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” Smith said to her. “He’s got a full brigade of soldiers, plus Captain Freedom and his company of super soldiers. Heck, there’s two tanks here somewhere.”
“It would not be enough to stop us,” said Stealth.
“Okay, think for a minute. Think about what happens if you did get him and get away. Los Angeles gets branded hostile territory. No food, no medical supplies, nothing. And once they gather enough forces they’ll just come in and take over anyway. Then we’re back to court martials.” Smith shook his head. “You have to play ball.”
“Like you have?” asked Stealth.
“Yeah,” he said, “just like I have. You have to understand. America’s in pieces and these guys are the glue. They’re trying to save the country they swore to protect. It’s nothing personal.” He sighed and tossed his clipboard on the table. “Your best bet is just to go with it. Tomorrow the two of you will go home to Los Angeles. Everyone there will still think you’re heroes.”
* * *
St. George stalked along the fence line. A halo of dark smoke surrounded his head as he clenched his fists. “I should’ve let you beat it out of him,” he said. “If we knew where they were holding Barry, we could just break in there and set him free. The three of us could level this place. How could I be so damned stupid?”
Stealth walked alongside him. She’d said nothing since they left the conference room.
“You were right,” he said to her. “We shouldn’t’ve trusted them. Hell, Barry was right. The military always turns evil during a zombie apocalypse.”
“They are not evil,” she announced. “They are doing what they believe is right, in a way consistent with the training and orders they have received. I once held many of the same views myself. Over the past two years you have convinced me otherwise.”
“They’ve got Barry locked up somewhere and you don’t think that’s evil?”
“Is it so different from what we do? At the Mount he is often trapped in the electric chair for eighteen hours at a time.”
St. George shook his head. “He volunteers for that.”
“He volunteers because we have placed him in a position of unavoidable responsibility. By eating an apple and staying in the chair he can provide power to over twenty thousand citizens of Los Angeles for lights, security, cooking, entertainment, and more. If he leaves the chair, they will have none of these things.”