Chapter 04

Tuesday, November 21, 2017


The drive from Sebastopol to the FBI headquarters in San Francisco took Spencer over the Golden Gate. This meant two things. One, that he was stuck in traffic and two, that he was stuck in traffic with the most amazing view ever.

It was a gorgeous crisp fall day, the sky was a perfect blue dotted with tiny white clouds, the sea was the color of turquoise you saw in the movies, and the recently painted bridge practically vibrated orange against the two. They had offered him an upgrade to a convertible when he rented his car and now he had an ideal view of the show going on below him. It was fleet week or something, the bay and outer reaches were packed with navy ships right out to the Farallon Islands. As he watched some kind of carrier cruised serenely under the Golden Gate and then three large helicopters took off and headed inland. It was quite the impressive display. Heck, most of the traffic was probably people slowing down to watch.

Once over the bridge he tuned into the traffic station. It seemed like a normal day in the city but the automated traffic station said that several blocks around the Civic Center were currently closed to vehicle traffic, and there were detours. Rather than being caught in the mess he pulled over at the first gas station he saw for an old-fashioned map. The hard part was navigating through the line waiting to fill up. "You want to gas up now." An old, obviously homeless man sitting on the sidewalk said as Spencer went by. "Change is a-coming! Change is a-coming!"

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked him.

The man said nothing. He just pointed to another flock of helicopters heading inland from the bay.

It was weird. Everything felt off today, it was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Better safe, he thought, and pulled into the line.

Once his tank was full he went in to pay and get a map. "Where can I park around the Civic Center?" He asked the clerk. The clerk understood more English than he spoke, he pointed out a few parking areas far enough away to be out of whatever mess was down there. "Thanks." It was then that he spotted something across the street. "Can I park here while I run to the bank?" That was allowable. He ran over and found that with the internet down only limited cash was available from the ATM's, or so said the sign on the door. He quickly maxed out his withdrawal limit, and then went back to the market and bought some snacks and water. Now food, water, fuel, cash, and his badge and his gun, he could probably handle any crisis that came up.

He headed into the fray and finally found a small lot on a back street a good half mile from where he needed to be that only wanted a small fortune to let him park for the rest of the day. The area seemed crowded with pedestrians, overflowing the sidewalks to the point where traffic must have been blocked somehow. The closer he got the worse it got until he finally turned the corner onto Golden Gate Avenue. Then he saw something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

The plaza in front of the Phillip Burton Federal Building had, since the Oklahoma City bombing, been turned into a truck-bomb proof fortress. It had been fitted with concrete planters that doubled as barricades and explosion deflectors and metal pylons designed to prevent anything larger than a bicycle from driving up to the entrance.

None of that had mattered to the tank that was currently parked in front of the doors.

After a moment his brain kicked back into gear and began picking up on the details. It was a German tank, a Leopard 2 design, painted bright white and labeled UN in large, black letters. A number of smaller vehicles parked around the area were also painted and labeled as such. And the uniformed people with the large rifles were wearing bright blue UN helmets even though their uniforms bore German military insignias. From the way they were laid out and the stream of people leaving the building it was clear that they were protecting and evacuating the Federal Building.

After staring in befuddlement for several moments Spencer turned and made his way to the coffee shop. He had to knife his way through the crowd to get there, trying not to step on the people who were sitting on the sidewalk out front staring at their electronic devices. Once inside he could barely move for having to push past people, but the place was eerily quiet.

"Reid!"

The last thing expected was to have someone quietly call his name, let alone this someone. "Morgan." He said, walking up to the man standing in a line. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Chicago." He asked, triggering a number of people to hiss at him to be quiet.

"I was." Morgan said. "I flew out here with my family this morning. Long story. Garcia's in the back, go join her, I'll get what I can here."

"Okay." Spencer went back to knifing through the crowd. Before he could a murmur went up as people went back to talking. Garcia was in the far back corner, having ensconced herself at the largest booth. She'd spread her customized gear out around her and was closely monitoring something. "Is the net back up?" He asked as he slid in beside her.

"Oh god! There you are! Come here!" She said as she pulled him into a hug. "Not the net-net but there is a localized intranet up and running and there is a bulletin board going. Everyone has been sharing intel as it comes in, not that there is nearly enough."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, everyone." She gestured to the coffee shop and the crowd outside it. "Everyone. The community. Oh honey, this is San Francisco, it's all family here. You came down from Sebastopol; did you see anything on the way?"

"Other than the fleet coming in to the bay?"

"So you saw the fleet? Okay, don't make me get Morgan to do a cognitive here, give me all the details." As Spencer rattled off what he had seen on the drive down Garcia dutifully typed it in and then posted it to the city board. A murmur went up from the crowd as they absorbed the new information. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"My Dad pulled my Mom out of Bennington and moved her to a hospital up in Sebastopol." Spencer said. "He kept apologizing to everyone although he didn't say why. And he left a giant bag of gold for her care. What are you doing here?"

"Okay that is creepy." Garcia said. They looked over as Morgan brought large coffees and bags of food. "I was here in the city doing the whole high school reunion thing. Do not look at me funny, when you go to boarding school it is a thing. But that means that on top of everything else I am fighting off a hangover. Ugh, this coffee is medicinal."

"Gordinski came to the house the other night." Morgan said. "He said he owed me so he was warning me to get my family out of Chicago while I still could. He said Canada was a good first choice but if that didn't work then New York or out here. The man was serious so we took his advice and came out to Oakland to visit my aunt and uncle for the holiday. We were setting up for lunch when I got the text."

"I heard from one of my high school peeps that we were being invaded, like literally invaded, so I came down here to see if I could get premium access and found that thing driving down the street." Garcia said as she waved at the tank. "So I came and camped out in here which has become info central, and here I am still."

"Have you heard from anyone else?" Spencer asked.

"Will, just as you were coming in. There is, like, actual fighting going on north of Seattle. Apparently we're also being invaded by Canada. I didn't even know they had a military. No one is flying at all, period, all the airports are shut down, and so he is renting a car and heading this way. When we're ready to move here we're going to go pick up my stuff at the inn and go back to Morgan's family."

"My Aunt and Uncle have been investing in property." Morgan said. "They have a few empty houses on the block; they said we could use them if we needed them." He looked over at Garcia, "Looks like we're going to be roomies for a while."

"That could be worse." Spencer said.

All of a sudden a sharp whistle pierced the crowd. "Quiet everyone!" Someone called from the counter. "The Governor is coming on the radio."

Everyone in earshot came in to listen.