Chapter 12

Jomo had been dead asleep when Allen Becker had arrived in Michigan during the wee hours of the morning. Worried he had missed some sort of alert pertaining to the gate they had been monitoring, he’d checked his phone only to find a text from Margaret explaining why Allen was arriving and what the Order troops needed to do. He also had missed a handful of calls from Kim, but the young woman had left no voicemails.

Allen, normally one of the more stoic figures in their ranks, had been livid as he explained to the assembled group what had happened between himself and Margaret. Jomo had not been thrilled by the vehement way he’d described Margaret’s side of the interaction, but he also had not been happy to hear about his boss’ handling of events. If he’d had to guess, that was likely what Kim’s missed calls had been about. They were two of Margaret’s closest confidants and it fell to them to curb her worst impulses when they reared their heads like this.

Before he could call Kim back though, he had to deal with a very pissed off Benoit and Sophia. “What the hell is going on here Jomo?” Sophia had asked him after Allen finished explaining what had happened back in Nebraska. “First we are carted out here to stare at a lake all day and now we are going back? And for what?”

“Very unprofessional,” Benoit growled from beside her, his expression dark. “I did not sign up to be shuffled around the country every time this woman changes her mind.”

“I understand,” Jomo said, running his hand over his closely shaved head, “but if that is what Margaret wants, your contracts dictate that you follow orders. I will talk to her though. This is not how things need to be going. I appreciate your patience.” He knew the excuse was a lame one, but it got them in the car and on the road.

“You need to talk to your boss,” Allen said after they’d left. “We can’t have people in flux like this every time she gets worked up about something, which seems to be far too often for a woman in her position if you ask me. It hurts our ability to respond to threats as they appear which in turn puts lives at risk. You know this as well as I do, Jomo.”

“I do,” Jomo said, trying to calm the massive man. “Margaret is a highly capable woman, but she puts too much pressure on herself. Her plate was fuller than most before we took on this side project…”

“That right there is the problem,” Allen said, pointing his finger at Jomo's chest and closing in on him in a way Jomo was not going to tolerate for long. “This isn’t a side-project. If she isn’t all in, then we need to find someone who is. All the gadgets and field support in the world doesn’t matter if we’re all at the mercy of someone who doesn’t listen to sense. I’m here to keep all of us alive, Jomo. I won’t keep doing this if she doesn’t start reigning in this my-way-or-the-highway bullshit. Not worth the pay and I’m sure the Order would be more than happy to take me and mine.”

“I understand your frustration,” Jomo said, his own temper rising now, “but you need to calm down.” He added no threat because none was necessary. Allen was a good man and Margaret seemed to have given him good reason to get this heated. Jomo was willing to let the man’s outburst slide, but he wasn’t going to let Allen think this sort of thing was acceptable in his presence.

“I’m sorry,” Allen said, taking a deep breath and visibly collecting himself. “I shouldn’t have acted like that. Not your fault. No excuse.”

“It’s fine,” Jomo said, happy to see Allen was already starting to wind down. Jomo didn’t intimidate easily, but only a fool wouldn’t be slightly put off by a man of Allen Becker’s size all revved up like he had been a few minutes ago. “As for you taking your men to the Order, I think we both know that’s a bad idea.”

“If Wynters insists on acting like this it might start looking more appealing,” Allen shot back. “I’m sorry I handled it how I did, but I’m not backing down on my assessment of her as a leader. So far, I’m not liking what I’m seeing and I won’t keep my men under this kind of leadership any longer than I need to.”

Jomo listened to Allen’s half-threat as he fished his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to go see what I can do from here ok? Nothing much for us to do at the moment but watch the lake and wait anyway. Try to let this feeling pass Allen. We need clear heads for this type of work. We can handle what happened with Margaret later.”

Allen didn’t say anything to this so Jomo left him to calm down up in the hide. Dialing Kim’s number on his phone, he waited for the young woman to respond.

“The hell took you so long?” her worried voice said the second the call connected.

“I was trying to get some shut eye,” Jomo said. “What happened?”

“We got news about things going south in Doumont. Two cops beat up Mr. Fritz and Mr. Becker wanted to increase our presence down there in response.”

“She went into risk management mode I assume?” Jomo sighed. He’d worried her business and legal concerns would take over when they shouldn’t in scenarios like this. What made sense to her from that vantage point was likely to rub men like Allen and his people the wrong way, as it should. Their calculus was far different from hers because they were dealing with life and death, not the rising and falling of stocks.

“And then some,” Kim said, sounding annoyed. “She let Father Rigali get under her skin and used the entire meeting to try and berate everyone into submission by reiterating her authority. No one took it well and she honestly ended up looking pretty bad. The Order is pissed, the guys who were in Louisiana are pissed, Atticus seems on the verge of a mental break and Allen left in the dead of night which is only going to piss his people off when they find out. I’m worried this could all fall apart in the next few hours if we aren’t careful.”

“He’s here,” Jomo said, pinching the spot between his eyes in frustration, “Allen I mean. Got here a few minutes ago.”

“Jesus, did he drive all night?” Kim asked.

“Must have,” Jomo said. “I assume you’ve already spoken to Margaret about what happened yesterday?”

“Yeah, I did it right after she went at Atticus for saying exactly what he should have. I may have been too hard on the guy. He’s really trying with her and all she gives him is venom.” Whatever Margaret had said must have really rubbed Kim the wrong way for her to be sympathizing with Atticus Daniels. Jomo didn’t care much for the man, but Kim had been positively incensed to learn he would be working with them closely for the immediate future.

“Who he is now doesn’t change what he did back then,” Jomo said, though his heart wasn’t really in it. Daniels was brash and as arrogant as Margaret without half the brains, but even Jomo had noted that he wasn’t the monster Margaret’s stories about their near-marriage had prepared him for. “I take it she brushed you off?”

“Very much so,” Kim said. “Not happy to hear my take on things at all.”

“Well if I call her from here, I doubt it will do any more good than what you’ve done already. You know how she gets if she thinks we’re coming at her from both sides. You’re going to need to take another crack at her today. The sooner the better. I think you’re right about this falling apart if we don’t act quickly.”

“And if she isn’t responsive?” Kim said, worry still in her voice.

“Then I’ll probably come back to base,” Jomo said, resigned. It wasn’t a very appealing option, mostly because it only made them look even less capable than all of the current movement already did, but also because he really didn’t want to miss whatever was going to come through here. After all of this torturous waiting, he needed the pay off.

“Allen will lose his goddamned mind if we keep moving people without any other reason than Margaret,” Kim said, reading his mind like she always did. “I tend to agree with Mr. Daniels that if we lose him, we lose. Period.”

“A hard position to disagree with,” Jomo said. No part of his ego kept him from acknowledging that Allen Becker was in another league than most men, including himself. Jomo had always been thankful for talent in his ranks, never envious; envy was for the weak and the lazy. “Which means you really need to get through to her Kimmie. Ok? Weather whatever she throws at you and get her to see things clearly.”

“Goddammit,” Kim groaned from the other end of the line.

“Stay strong kid,” Jomo said affectionately. “You got this. Not the first time, won’t be the last.”

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“Not the first time, won’t be the last,” Kim breathed on the other side of the phone. It had become their little mantra a while back, though they kept it from Margaret for obvious reasons. “Thanks,” Kim said with a sigh, “I needed that. See you soon Jomo,” and the call ended.

Deciding that he would give Allen a little more time to wind down from his midnight road trip, Jomo stretched his legs and did some light body weight exercises while he kept his gaze fixed on the gray lake. There was nothing he could do for Margaret or Kim now, so he did the only productive thing left.

He watched and he waited.

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Kim decided that coming at Margaret head on was still the best strategy and she wasted no time after her call with Jomo in finding the woman. It was roughly midday and as she sought out her boss, she kept trying to form an ironclad argument that would force Margaret to see things clearly. None seemed to work for her though and she was still discarding new ones even as she approached Margaret’s desk. Dragging her chair to the familiar spot at her boss’ side, Kim said “We need to finish our talk from yesterday.” She said it with as much authority as she could muster, preparing for the woman next to her to return the attitude in kind.

Instead, Margaret swiveled in her chair so that their knees were almost touching. Kim was shocked to see that moisture was collecting at the corners of her friend’s eyes, something she wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. “I know,” she said, exhaling shakily as she began dabbing at her tears with one of her sleeves. “It’s just so hard to forget that he’s gone when there are reminders everywhere I turn.”

“Mr. Andrews?” Kim asked softly, placing a hand on Margaret’s shoulder. Of all her boss’ old friends, she knew the least about Mr. Jack Andrews despite the fact that he had clearly been Margaret’s de facto favorite among them.

“Jack was the best friend I’ve ever had,” Margaret sniffed. “Why I didn’t see him more often the last few years is something I can’t quite put my finger on. We’d always managed to do something small a few times a year in our twenties and thirties, but since we both got older it’s only really been phone calls and emails. If I’d known what was coming, I, I would have...”

“You always spoke very highly of him,” Kim said, as she patted Margaret’s shoulder. She’d been with Margaret shortly after she’d learned of Jack’s death, and while she’d known the woman had taken it hard, she suspected there was more to this than just the death of her old friend.

“Somehow I always imagined he would bring us all back together again. I don’t hate Atticus, you know. He’s a good man in his own way, but seeing him hurts me more than he realizes. It isn’t his fault though and I need to remember that. Joe on the other hand, I might actually be starting to hate him,” she laughed, her voice raw from fighting back the impulse to cry. “He’s as unbearable today as he always was. Still, I held onto this fantasy in my head where Jack would trick us all into sitting down together at lunch or for drinks or something like that. I always pictured it as being terribly awkward at first, but eventually we’d fall back into our old groove, for a night at least. I guess even after all we went through, I’ve always missed my old friends. Not what we became of course, but what we were.”

Kim nodded sadly as she continued to pat Margaret’s shoulder. She knew just how brutally longing for what you could never have back could pain someone’s soul. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” Kim asked. Now that she understood a bit of where this was coming from, she still needed to curb the destructive behavior it was causing.

“Nothing can change what has already come to pass,” she said, breathing out slowly as she did so, regaining most of her composure in the process. “I appreciate you coming to me. I know it isn’t easy trying to rein me in, but I really do rely on it. It’s embarrassing really”

“I’m always here, literally,” Kim laughed.

“Any word on where Allen ended up after last night?” Margaret asked, trying to move on from their previous topic of discussion.

“He’s in Michigan with Jomo,” Kim informed her. “Order troops are on their way home.”

“Not happy I’m guessing,” Margaret asked.

“Not from what Jomo told me, no,” Kim said. “You’re going to have to make it up to them somehow, or at least assure them it won’t happen again.”

“I have a lot of bridges to mend,” Margaret said, sounding resolved to mend them as fast as possible. “I’ll start with trying to stop being so hard on Atticus,” she added as she went to open her laptop. “He doesn’t deserve half of what I…”

Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep

The shrill sound was echoing out of both of their pockets and the three computers in the office all at once. The noise was physically painful to hear amplified like this, but it could only mean one thing. Kim felt her stomach drop as Margaret swung her chair away from her so that she could tap into the alert system on her desktop.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Margaret was saying as the program she had created to make sense of the gate monitoring device’s readings flashed on her screen. “What the hell am I looking at Kimmie? Is it Michigan?”

Kim had already grabbed Margaret’s laptop, an almost identical model to the one that sat feet away at her own desk, from her and was now pouring over the information as it popped up on the screen in real time. “No,” she groaned as she read the screen in front of her. “New gate, Arizona it looks like, just north of Tucson. Jesus, something is coming through right now I think.”

“Goddammit,” Margaret said, her face turning white as she saw what Kim was seeing. The machine could not make an exact determination as to what was coming through any given gate at any given time, but it could tell you how much mass or matter had passed through without issue. While not ideal, this gave them a rough idea of what might be waiting for them, or at least how big it was. Right now the machine was telling them that whatever was passing through the Arizona gate was the largest signature that the machine had picked up so far. Nothing else had even come close.

“What do we do?” Kim asked, fighting a growing sense of panic. “I thought these things needed to mature for a while. I thought we’d have more time. Shouldn’t we have more time?”

“Theoretically,” Margaret said, color still not returned to her face. “Get Allen and Jomo on the line.”

“Are you sure you want…”

“Now Kim,” was all Margaret said.

Kim didn’t need to be told twice.

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Jomo had not expected a return call from Kim so quickly, but as the reason why became clear he felt his stomach drop. This was exactly what Allen had been concerned about and here it was playing out just as he’d worried it would. Even worse, for Jomo at least, the large man was standing next to him as he took the call, listening to every word with growing anger. Jomo only hoped Allen could keep it together long enough to help them before he pulled himself and all of his people out of this.

“What do we do?” Margaret finally asked, shocking Jomo and sending Allen over the edge.

“Don’t hire someone to run your field team and exile them out to the middle of nowhere, for starters,” Allen yelled into the receiver. “You’re going to get someone killed Margaret. I’m heading back. Better yet, find me a flight out to Arizona. I can meet with my people there.”

“Hold on,” Jomo said, both to the woman on the phone and the man to his left. “We can’t just leave this gate unattended, that solves nothing, and we have more than enough resources to get the right people where they need to go. There are contingencies in place for all of this Margaret. Trust in your people and your planning, provide proper support and get them in and out alive. That’s all we need to do. No one else needs to go rushing off right now.”

“Jomo’s right,” Margaret said, though she didn’t sound happy about it. “We can’t wait for you Allen and getting you on a plane to Arizona isn’t looking feasible at the moment. Who do you suggest I choose to lead your men?”

“I’m hesitant to send my men into this shitshow at all,” Allen responded angrily.

“Are you withdrawing your people then?” Jomo asked. Better he ask than Margaret at this point. She had lost all of Allen’s respect overnight it seemed and they needed his men now more than ever. If Allen was out, he needed to make that clear so that they could adjust appropriately, though Jomo couldn’t really imagine what that would look like without half their field team.

Margaret stayed silent on her end of the phone as Allen worked his jaw silently, mulling over the ramifications of such an action. “Put Hughes or Morales in charge,” Allen said finally and Jomo breathed a sigh of relief he was sure Margaret had joined him in from the other side of the phone. “Don’t be surprised if they won’t go though. They don’t need me to tell them a plan is shit and likely to get them killed. If this really is going to be as bad as your readings suggest, you need to send everyone you can. I know we have a lot of people on the road at the moment, something that we need to make sure never happens again, but you should be able to divert some of them if you try hard enough.”

“Kim’s already on it,” Margaret said. “We can probably get Benjamin and Ellis to Arizona to meet the others, but it’s looking like the Order troops will be a no go.”

“Wonderful,” Allen said, turning his back on their conversation and walking off to the water’s edge.

Ignoring him for the moment, Jomo turned speaker phone off and walked out of ear shot so he could talk to Margaret in private before she went. “Margaret, it’s just me now, are you going to be able to handle this?”

“Not much for me to handle,” she said nervously. “I’ve just made it harder for everyone else and now I need to send them on their way.”

“Let that go now,” Jomo said earnestly. “You have never backed down from a challenge before. You’ve overcome obstacles that other people would never have even taken on with ease. This is just your newest test. Put aside your fear and guilt and attack it head on. The road to regaining these people's trust, and you do need to do that I’m afraid, starts with getting them through this. I believe in you Margaret.”

“Thank you Jomo,” she said.

“Get moving,” he said in response and he hung up the phone. He’d given her the pep talk she’d needed, but Jomo was still full of worry as he returned to Allen’s side.

“Can she handle this?” Allen asked him when he’d returned. He didn’t look away from the lake as he said it, but he sounded genuinely concerned.

“I could never bring myself to bet against a woman like Margaret,” Jomo said, “but this is the unknown. How can any of us know whether we can handle what’s coming? It’s just as likely that we’re all doomed and just don’t know it yet. What happens will happen, and what comes next will be what it will be.”

Allen clearly didn’t like this answer at all, but said nothing as he continued to watch the choppy waters. Jomo understood, he didn’t like it either, but it was the truth of their situation at the moment. Standing watch at Allen’s side, he held out hope that things could still go their way and prayed that this wasn’t destined to be the day Margaret first stained her hands with another person’s blood.