Amy woke twice in darkness.

The first time was to the sound of Alex’s soft snoring beside her, and considered whether to wake him. He had given in to exhaustion before they could do more than cuddle after showering and eating, with a promise to go further when they were rested, but he clearly wasn’t rested yet. Disappointed, she gradually drifted off to sleep.

The second time followed a very loud whistle. “What is that?” she mumbled, and felt the bed shake beside her.

“That’s my doorbell,” she heard Alex say.

“Not a bell,” she grumbled. Opening her eyes, she saw his half-naked form move toward a nightstand.

“Cover your eyes,” he warned, and a blinding light flashed through her closed eyelids. She squinted and sat up, unsure whether to comment on the time or how irritated she felt.

The doorbell whistled again. “Let me get that,” he said, and moved quickly to the walk-in closet that faced the bed. He then put on a large bathrobe and left the room.

Amy debated with herself whether to get out of bed or just wait for him, but the decision was made for her when she heard him shout, “You!”

“Hello, Detective Rideout,” a woman’s voice said just loud enough to be heard through the wall. “I’m your new partner, and we have a situation.”

“Show me your badge,” he said, and then, “So it’s detective now?”

“Just promoted,” the woman said.

“Wait here, and let me get dressed,” Alex told her, and seconds later was back in the bedroom with the door closed.

“I’m sorry, Amy,” he said honestly, “it’s work.” He threw the bathrobe on the bed, and headed for his dresser.

She slid out of bed and found her clothes. “Your partner is a woman?” she asked.

“Apparently,” he said. She felt a little relief that he wasn’t happy about it.

They both finished dressing at the same time, and Amy stepped out behind him.

The woman was about Amy’s age and half-way in height between her and Alex, with short-cropped brown hair and wearing a white windbreaker just like the one she had given away at the restaurant. “Hello, Miss Pacer,” the woman said, and removed the windbreaker. “I believe this is yours.”

“Who are you, and how did you get that?” Amy snapped, and grabbed the windbreaker out of her hand, adding,

“And how did you know I was here?”

“I’m Detective Ambrose, and it’s part of my job. The young lady you saved asked me to thank you again.”

“What’s the situation?” Alex asked her, pulling a jacket off a wall hook.

“We can’t discuss it here,” she answered bluntly, and turned to open the front door.

“Can I go with you? Amy doesn’t have a car.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to drop her off on the way instead of her taking yours.”

“Or him taking his,” Amy said.

“Right.” Ambrose made an attempt at a grin. “You’ll need your gun,” she said to Alex.

“Already have it,” he said, not revealing where.

“How do you two know each other?” Amy asked from the rear seat of Ambrose’s large black sedan when they were half-way to her apartment.

“We met once at a crime scene,” Ambrose said, driving. “I’m afraid I didn’t leave a very good impression on Detective Rideout.”

“That’s surprising,” Amy said, not surprised at all.

“You can call me Alex,” he told Ambrose.

She paused. “You can call me Cathy. It’ll be easier, since my husband is also a detective. I think you know him: Gary Ambrose.”

“El Paso deputy. Yeah, I’ve worked with Gary a couple of times.”

Amy said, “Looks like the birth of friendship, as my friend would say. By the way, Cathy, what’s your night job?”

“What?”

“You said this is your day job. What’s your night job?”

Ambrose paused. “I just got off a reserve assignment. That’s all I can say.”

“Gotcha. More like a part-time job. I guess that means we’re not at war.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Miss Pacer,” Ambrose said after a pause.

“I don’t,” Amy said, not sure whether to trust her.

The sleeper couch that Amy used as a bed was ready and waiting for her when she got home. She thought about trying for more sleep, but decided against it.

“It’s almost five-thirty,” Barb observed, stumbling groggily out of the bedroom.

“I know,” Amy said, making a beeline for the coffee pot in their kitchenette. “Do you want me to make some for you?”

“Sure.” Barb sat at their small dining table. “Were you up all night?”

“No, I got some sleep.”

Barb perked up. “Really! Say more!”

Amy thought about how much to share. Her personal desire for privacy extended to those around her, and Barb knew it. She decided to keep it simple. “He was very sweet. Everything I imagined. But too tired to do more than fool around a little.”

“What about this morning?” Barb asked.

“He had to go to work. I think it’s something big, because his new partner picked him up instead of calling him.”

“New partner? That didn’t take long.” She picked up her phone.  “I’ll see if I can find out what it’s all about. A few minutes later, she exclaimed, “None of my favorite news sites is loading!” She then grabbed the TV remote and began scanning the channels.

None of the local stations mentioned anything that matched what Amy expected, but one of the cable news stations caught their attention. “We now have reports of violence at over half of the first polls to open,” an earnest female anchor announced to a table of five pundits facing a wall-sized map.

“Polls?” Amy blurted. “Voting polls?”

“That’s right,” Barb said with disappointment, “we’ve got to vote today.”

The TV screen split and an anxious male reporter in his twenties interrupted the anchor as she was listing some of the locations. “Just like the first ones, the voting machines here are refusing to register the selections people are making. Many people are complaining that they barely have time to vote before going to work, and that the parties they want to vote against must be responsible.”

“Is there any indication that it’s just one party that people are blaming?” the anchor asked the reporter.

“It’s unclear,” he replied. His eyes widened. “Oh, crap!”

“What is it?” she asked just as the camera tilted at a crazy angle, followed by a sharp bang and static.

Amy and Barb traded looks of shock while the studio on the screen erupted into chaos.

Three long commercials later, the news anchor stared out of the screen, her face wet with tears. “We’re sad to report,” she said, her voice cracking, “that our colleague Mike Anderson is the first known casualty of...” She stopped and swallowed, and anger suddenly took over her face. “Screw it. Our FRIEND is dead, shot by a MONSTER!”

The face of a male anchor appeared, standing in another studio with another group of pundits at a table behind him. Amy barely paid attention to the steady stream of speculation and updates that followed, wondering whether Alex’s “situation” involved preparation for this happening locally.

Amy flipped through the other channels during a commercial and discovered that local TV stations were now covering the story of voting violence, which was spreading like a virus with the opening of polls and the simultaneous malfunction of electronic voting equipment regardless of location or type. Even the polls using paper ballots were affected by violence, which some reports suggested was due to growing distrust of those managing the overall counting.

Some reports of decreasing turnout due to fear were starting to be received by the national news services. This sparked a round of speculation that the violence would decrease over the course of the day.

She and Barb were among those who now considered not voting at all, especially since it was most convenient to vote in the two hours before they started work, and there was no assurance that they would be able to vote afterwards.

“You should call Alex,” Barb suggested at one point during their discussion. “See what he thinks.”

Amy had already anticipated the idea and dismissed it. “I don’t want to get in the way of him solving the problem.”

“You think this is what he’s working on?” Barb asked predictably.

Amy’s suspicion had quickly grown into a working explanation, but she wasn’t ready to share it yet. “Maybe,” she said instead.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Barb demanded.

Amy shrugged, and chose to run with the obvious facts. “Look at the timing. He had to go in right around the time that the violence started.”

“Yeah,” Barb conceded. “That is quite a coincidence.”

“He’s probably helping to secure everything as we speak.”

“Which means he’ll know better than anyone whether it’s safe to vote.” Barb leaned toward her. “Do you think he loves you enough to make sure you’re safe?”

Amy knew he did. But she also was confident that he wouldn’t be able to share what he knew with her while he was with Cathy Ambrose, much less give her any privileged advice. “He loves me,” she answered Barb. “If there’s something I need to know, then he’ll tell me, and I’ll tell you.”

Amy and Barb had to be at work by nine o’clock. Still unable to access news sites from their phones, they watched the local news to help them decide whether to vote before work or after. By seven forty-five there was no indication of local violence or voting machine malfunctions, so they chose to try voting on their way to work.
Alex called Amy just as she finished parking her car at the store. “Have you and Barb voted yet?” he asked before she said anything.

“Yes,” she answered, “we voted and we just got to work. Are you okay? You sound out of breath.”

“Thank God,” he said.

“Why? What happened?” she asked, turning off the car and ignoring Barb’s anxious look.

“A small riot just broke out near your polling place. Are you sure you’re safe?”

“Yes.” She began feeling breathless herself. Barb gripped her arm and mouthed, What? “Hang on,” she told Alex and put him on speakerphone. “Barb can hear you too. Did you say there was a small riot?”

“They’re happening all over the city now. Look, I’ve got to go. You two be careful, and let me know when you’re on your way home. Promise me, Amy.”

“I promise,” she said. “You be careful too, okay? We need to finish what we started last night.”

He chuckled. “That we do. I love you, Amy.” The call ended before she could respond.

Barb released her arm. “Riots, huh? That explains why the parking lot is almost empty.”

Amy hoped she was wrong. Inside the store, she got her answer.

During the first two hours only a dozen customers had entered the store. Amy stood in the main checkout area, watching a local newscaster on one of the TVs reporting a variation of what was being said on the others. “All over the state, many people are choosing to stay home rather than risk being hurt, or worse. Still, at least a dozen polling places have seen violence, most of them on the Front Range.” Cutting away to a national network, pundits continued what had become rampant speculation that the voting machine malfunctions and the Event might be related, although no one could explain why the incidence of failure was the lowest in the state where the Event occurred.

Diego called a meeting at the front of the store shortly before noon and announced that the store would be closing for the day. “I’m sorry, my friends,” he said to the six employees who had shown up for work. “Go home and be safe. I hope tomorrow this will all be over.”

“‘Be safe,’ Where is safe?” Barb muttered later as Amy drove them home with the radio on to catch any news updates.

“Good question,” Amy said, worried that Alex hadn’t answered his phone before they left, and hoping he would appreciate the short message she left on his voicemail.

Alex sat anxiously waiting for the briefing to end. He glanced at Cathy beside him, who was calmly listening as if she had heard it all before. They were in a room that smelled of smoke and the sweat of the crowd of detectives and patrol officers, many of whom had worked through the night.

Commander of detectives Max Henderson stood below a large screen showing a street map of the city that until an hour ago had been covered with red blotches indicating sources of 911 calls. Now dots were popping up sporadically and few, close to matching what a typical day would look like. “We’ve still got seven hours before the polls close,” he said, apparently winding down his presentation, “so we can’t let our guard down, but I am provisionally pulling some of the detectives we’ve had on patrol duty so they can start catching up on the backlog of work since Sunday. Any questions?”

One of the younger officers who was sitting in front of Alex got to ask the first of what were thankfully only three questions. “Sir, have you heard anything about what caused this, that the news hasn’t reported? Like is it related to the Event?”

Cathy straightened up and watched intently as Henderson answered. “The investigation has only just started, and it’s being run by the feds and the military, who aren’t sharing anything at this point.”

“Are any of our people going to be involved in an investigation of our own?” one of the older detectives asked.

“Maybe they can piggyback off of what I heard Rideout was doing during the Event.”

A collective gasp spread through the room and Alex became uncomfortably aware that he was now the center of attention.

“We’ve been explicitly told to stand down,” Henderson answered, which Alex noted was not an explicit “no.”

The third question was from a patrol officer. “I was going to ask about whether we’ll get time to attend tomorrow’s funerals, but I’m more interested in what Detective Rideout was really doing while my partner was burning to death, and if he knew it was going to happen!”

A respectful murmur grew in intensity until Henderson answered. “I would let him speak for himself,” he began, staring not at Alex but at Cathy, “but I’ve just been told that it’s classified.”

“What?” several people shouted simultaneously.

Alex was suddenly more concerned with that admission than the mood of the room, and what it might mean for everyone who was part of what happened. He gritted his teeth, suddenly very worried about Amy.

"Suffice it to say,” Henderson shouted, “he was DOING HIS JOB.” He waited for quiet and continued in a normal voice. “His partner left him behind to follow up on a lead, which may end up saving lives.” Technically it was unknown whether the drone photos had useful information, but Alex was grateful for the defense of both him and Mark’s reputation.

After Henderson dismissed the meeting, several people shook Alex’s hand, saying some version of “Good work.” He thought about calling Amy, but decided to get more information first.

“What do you know about the classification?” he asked Cathy as he led her to a secure conference room.

“Nothing,” she said.

“Well, what does it mean?” he pressed, entering the empty room.

“It depends on the threat level, but you already know that.”

“I’d say the threat level is about as high as it can get, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” she said. The look on her face said that she was impressed. “I take it you’re worried about Miss Pacer.”

“Amy,” he corrected reflexively. “You can call her Amy. She distrusts people who are formal.”

“Good to know. Anyway, I doubt she’s in any trouble, though I expect she’s under surveillance. At least for a while.”

“I expect she and I have both been under surveillance for more than a while.”

“It wouldn’t be surprising,” she agreed. “What makes you think so?”

“An enemy drone shoots down a military helicopter, and the Air Force sets up a roadblock to keep people away. Except a few civilians accidentally witnessed it. You can’t control them, so you tell them that national security depends on them keeping quiet and then you watch them to be sure they do.”

“But you didn’t keep quiet,” she said.

“I’m a cop. You didn’t expect me to. But you had to keep up appearances.”

“This is beginning to sound like an interrogation, Alex.”

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page, and if you’re serious about working with me then you do too.”

She sat down at the table. “I do. We need to be honest with each other.”

“Okay,” he said, taking a seat across from her. “First question: Is this a safe place to talk?”

“I think so,” she said.

“That’ll have to be good enough. Are you spying on me?”

She hesitated, flustered. “Yes, no. They think I am, but I’m not.”

“They being the leaders of your team?”

“My former team. I’m a civilian again.”

“Do they expect you to report on me?”

“Not unless you present a threat, but I’ve assured them that you won’t be. That’s not an issue, though, because I’m not working for them.”

He felt an old anger begin to boil inside and instantly identified its source. Cathy was acting as a decoy, whether she was telling the truth or not, because someone else was still watching Amy. “What constitutes a threat?”

“Endangering the mission,” she said, and surprised him with a smile. “You’ve been through this before, haven’t you?”

“A couple of times,” he said, being as honest as he could. “What’s the mission?”

“Winning that war I mentioned at the roadblock.”

“Tell me about the war.”

“I can’t. It’s classified.”

“How can I avoid being a threat, if I don’t know what I’m threatening?”

“I’ll help you,” she said earnestly.

“Will you help Amy and the others too?”

“Of course.”

He stared into her eyes, letting her know he was serious, and testing if she would honestly answer his most important question. “Why?”

“I’m not okay with the costs,” Cathy said bluntly, holding his gaze, “in lives or in principles.”

In that moment, Alex saw a glimpse of himself at the time he reached the identical conclusion under similar circumstances. The pain, the conviction, and the joy of finding that core truth were all there in her expression, which he knew could not be faked.

He also saw the solution to the problem that had occupied his mind for more than a day.

“You can’t compromise at all,” Alex said with sympathy.

“I know,” Cathy said meekly.

“Have you talked to Gary about any of this?” he asked.

“I plan to do it tonight.”

“You should tell him as much as you can, including your role in the Event.”

“What?” she gasped.

“That cost in lives was the two cops that died, isn’t it?”

She recoiled with what he recognized as a mix of surprise and guilt.

“You were in that helicopter over downtown, or you were giving them orders, trying to keep civilian lives from being lost by accident.” Her expression confirmed his guess.

“How did you know?” she whispered.

“I saw both helicopters, remember? The one that was shot down and an identical one over the city.”

“From the test drone,” she said.

He nodded. “That loss hit you the hardest, because you felt responsible for people dying you were dedicated to protecting, both on that job and this one.”

“Yes. If they’re willing to go that far, I can’t be a part of it.”

“Can you tell me why they did it?” he asked carefully.

“Not legally.”

“How about if I guess, and you let me know if I’m right?”

“Okay.”

“You, I mean they, were improving their chances of finding the enemy drone wherever they thought it might be.” She nodded.

“That meant hunting in the air while tracking potential means of communications and use of power by control relays on the ground. They discovered the enemy might be using cell signals, so they killed or blocked them from towers in the target zone.” She nodded again.

“The drone was lost after the hunter was shot down, and the search area grew to include the whole state. Meanwhile, they started testing to scale how they would kill communications and power in the populated areas so the drone and its relays would stand out.” She nodded.

“They got desperate, and started knocking out everything they could, some of it by accident, except of course for the satellites, whose communications were being tracked as the last option for the enemy to use.” She nodded and began to grin.

“David got his drones up shortly after that, and they let him do his sweep figuring they could commandeer the photos and data for their own use by pressuring the company.” She was smiling now.

“The fires were accidental, caused by the all-out controls sabotage. Meanwhile, someone decided that either the drone was grounded, maybe because of loss of sun for solar power backup, or that the risk to the population was too high, even for them. Maybe both.”

“That’s quite a story,” she said, effectively confirming it.

“What I don’t get is the timing and how they arranged for both me and Amy to be together at David’s house.”

“What do you mean?”

“Getting me to the restaurant after it burned, and Mark to leave me behind at the coffee shop so Amy could conveniently drive me to the house at the exact same time that the networks logged the start of the Event, which was later than we saw it on the ground.”

She looked genuinely confused. “If they could control all those variables, which they can’t, they would have kept you as far from that house as possible.”

Alex suddenly had a sinking feeling. “What if they tried and failed to do just that?” He imagined the people who followed him and Amy collaborating after intercepting his call to David arranging the visit. They would have started the restaurant fire to keep him busy in the aftermath, and arranged for Mark to be called back to the station with orders to leave him behind at the coffee shop to deal with the crowd.

“That is more plausible,” she admitted, and then frowned and reached below the table.

Without thinking, Alex lifted his right leg and unbuttoned the holster above his ankle.

Cathy’s cell phone was above the table just as Alex raised his gun to firing position below it. He held her gaze the whole time without changing his expression, and became suddenly aware of what he was doing. “Who are you calling?” he asked evenly.

“A former colleague,” she said with a questioning look. “Wait. Do you think I was involved in something like that?”

“Watching me is your job.”

“Was my job,” she corrected, and realized her mistake when Alex raised the gun above the table. “Not then, and not now!”

“I’d like to believe you,” he said. “I’ll ask again. Who are you calling?”

“His name is Roger Gilpin. He’s a special agent in the Office of Special Investigations. Just like I was. If anyone can sort this out, he can.”

“Why would he?”

“He shares my values and would find a way.”

“You’re asking for a whole lot of trust here, especially since my future wife’s life may be in danger.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Your future wife? Does Amy know that?” He let his expression reveal that he hadn’t told anyone until now. “I don’t want anyone harmed, which is why I’m here,” she said with compassion and no fear.

“Okay,” he said as his instincts aligned with his judgment. “Make your call, but I need to see for myself, and you’re coming with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said, and put her phone on speaker.

Twenty minutes later, Alex got off the phone with Amy while riding in Cathy’s car. “She’s fine,” he told Cathy.

“Her job let her off early and she’s at her apartment watching TV with Barb, along with Derek and David.”

“They’re all there?”

“Yes. Will you be able to tell if they’re still being monitored?”

“Possibly, but when their tails see me they’ll likely leave, figuring I’ve got it covered.”

“Makes sense,” he said, “unless Gilpin gets to them first.”

Gilpin had been totally unaware of the Air Force’s responsibility for the Event, and promised to do a full investigation beginning with the end of any ongoing surveillance. Cathy had promised to be fully debriefed as soon as the safety of the civilians could be guaranteed.

“It’s a good thing the commander gave us the rest of the day off, huh?” Cathy said.

“It’s provisional,” he reminded her.

“Are you going to pop the question when we get there?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I don’t even have a ring.”

“Not a big deal. Gary didn’t get me one until two weeks later, but they were a glorious two weeks, and I got to pick it!”

When they arrived at the apartment complex, Cathy drove through every place a car could be. There was no sign of anyone waiting or watching in the area. Cathy received a call from Gilpin just as she was about to park near Amy’s apartment.

Alex used his own phone to take a movie of the scene outside the car while listening to Cathy’s side of the conversation, which wasn’t meaningful until the end. “Thank you, Roger, I’ll pass it along,” she said. “WTF!” she shouted after ending the call, followed by a string of explicit epithets he hadn’t heard since boot camp.

She accidentally hit the car horn, which drew attention from inside the apartment. Amy was the first one out, looking questioningly at them through the windshield.

“What did he say?” Alex asked calmly and waved at Amy.

“The whole operation’s already been shut down, with the highest classification slapped on everything internal and some super high quality cover stories for everything else. We can’t tell anyone else about it outside of a controlled setting, ever, or we’ll each be stuck alone in a cell until we die there, and so will whoever we tell.”

He felt his body go numb. “What about the drone strike? Amy and the hiker were witnesses.”

“The Harvey family already broke that news. What they know, or have shared, is all we can talk about.”

“Damn,” he said, just as Amy got close to the car.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t say anything to anyone about this. Even to Amy.”

He saw it as a commitment of trust that they would both need. “You have my word.”

“Hi, Alex!” Amy shouted through the window, concern in her voice. “Are you okay?”

“You go ahead,” Cathy said. “There’s something I need to do first. Just in case.”

“I’m fine,” he told Amy as he walked with her toward the apartment.

“Where’s Cathy going?” she asked.

“She just had a bad day at work and needs to vent.” He turned to see Cathy open and close her left fist as she held it briefly over her head. He assumed it was a signal to anyone watching that they could leave.

“Sorry to hear that,” Amy said almost insincerely. “Really, how are you? You look stressed.”

“It’s been a rough day for everyone,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Maybe this will help,” she said and hugged him tightly. “Does it?”

He closed his eyes and let her warmth overwhelm him. “Yes it does.”

“Hi, Cathy,” he heard Amy say and opened his eyes as she let him go.

“Hi, Amy,” Cathy said. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable this morning.”

“No problem,” she said and opened the door. “Look who’s here!” She pointed to the couch. “There’s my brother Derek, and Alex’s cousin David.” They both waved in turn. “We don’t usually have this much company. Oh, and back there,” she pointed to the kitchenette, “is my best friend and roommate Barb.”

“Nice to meet you,” Barb said. “Can I get you two anything to drink?”

“Water’s fine,” they both said in unison, getting a surprised reaction from Amy.

“Anything new happening?” Cathy asked Amy. The TV was tuned to one of the major cable networks, showing what looked like a presidential press conference just ending.

“The president said he came really close to declaring a national state of emergency, but everything started working again as if nothing ever happened. They decided to postpone the election for a week so they can make sure, but it looks like everything’s okay now.”

“Really?” Alex said. He had half-expected martial law by now.

“That’s what they say, whoever the hell ‘they’ are,” Derek answered loudly, “but I don’t believe it for a second. Problems like that don’t just fix themselves.”

David turned to him. “The Event fixed itself, Derek. The lights and phones are working just fine.”

“For now,” Derek spat.

“Here’s your water,” Barb said, handing glasses to Alex and Cathy.

“Thanks,” Cathy said sincerely.

“Thanks, Barb,” Alex added. “How are you doing?”

“Just great,” she answered. “I just hope we get paid for the rest of the day.”

“Me too,” he agreed.

She whispered, “David told me what we saw at his place is now classified, and we can’t tell anyone about it. Is that true?”

“I’m afraid so,” he whispered back. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“That sucks. It’s a great story.”

“Sure is,” he agreed.

He took Amy’s hand as she walked by, and asked, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure,” she said. “How about Barb’s bedroom?”

“Don’t do any funny business in there,” Derek shouted. “Barb wouldn’t like it.”

“What has he been drinking?” Alex asked when the door was closed.

“I’ve got a little alcohol, for company,” she said.

“So I’ve heard,” He set his glass on the dresser. “Hey, I’ve got an important question for you, but I didn’t come prepared.”

She squinted at him. “Prepared for a question?” Then her eyes lit up. “YES!” she screamed.

“What?”

“What?” she mimicked him. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Absolutely yes!” she exclaimed happily and kissed him deeper than he ever thought possible.