Chapter 20: All About Rocks
Gale slips his backpack off his shoulders and jots a note on the map. The early morning sky has brightened enough to let him see the other side of the valley now. He snaps a few pictures with the digital camera, too. It should be easy to show that the official maps are wrong, but proving who was responsible for the alterations is another question. Hopefully Milo can help on that front.
He turns to watch Madge make her way down the rocky ridge behind him. Her blue parka and yellow hair stand out against the backdrop of faded grays and browns in the shadowy dawn light. The sun hasn't yet crested the slope they just descended. She stumbles but catches herself, and he momentarily regrets letting her come with him. After yesterday's events, she's probably even more tired than he is. They'd had to wake up well before sunrise, and he'd like to avoid her fainting or angrily throwing trail mix on this trip.
Madge smiles wearily when she joins him. He passes her his canteen, though she looks like she could actually use some coffee, and then moves behind her to lift her backpack off.
"Thanks," she says with a roll of her shoulders. "So where's that creek Milo told us to look for?"
"Should be close. It runs through this valley." He starts to knead her shoulder muscles and feels pleased when she sighs and leans back into him. "Look over there," he says quietly, pausing to point to the slope on the other side of the valley. "A thousand times better than anything on TV."
Even the highest quality screens couldn't capture the array of shifting colors appearing before them from the sun's first rays bringing life and light back to the valley. The shadow slides down the valley's wall like an invisible hand slowly lifting a curtain. And there's no way to record the stillness and tentative beginnings of the day in a forest other than to just soak it in.
They watch quietly for several minutes until Gale can't resist pushing Madge's hair aside and softly kissing her neck, which tastes salty with the effort of their scrambles up and down these ridges. She reaches up to run her hand along his jaw, leaving a tingling trail on his skin.
"I thought we were in a hurry this morning," she says lazily. He can hear her smile even if he can't see it.
"We are." He'd wanted to get to work as quickly as possible to expose the map scam, but now it's become urgent that they enjoy this moment. He moves his hands from her shoulders and links them around her waist. The sun has almost exposed the entire opposite side of the valley, the rocky walls now taking on an orange hue. The absence of any breeze or insect hums leave him with a sense that they're in a bubble, separated from the rest of the world.
"This is my favorite time of day," he whispers into the stillness. There's something about the hopefulness, the possibility the day will be a good one. He gives Madge an appreciative squeeze.
She pulls her hand back down and rests her arms on his, still gazing out over the valley. "I love anytime I can be with you."
Gale feels a strange blockage in his throat, like he can't swallow. He isn't sure if it's because he knows deep down he doesn't deserve her and it's only a matter of time before she realizes it herself, or if it's because she won't ever realize it and he doesn't deserve that, either. Whatever it is, he fights thinking about it by kissing her neck again. When she tilts her head to give him more access and makes a promising sound in her throat, he decides she is officially way more interesting than the sunrise. Madge must share the sentiment about him because within a few seconds she swivels to face him and has that look in her eyes like he's all that matters in the world.
Just like last night when they snuck away to "walk Zipper," it doesn't take long to get carried away. Only now they let themselves get carried further because they don't have to even think about anyone interrupting them, which Gale chalks up as yet another reason he prefers forests to cities.
He couldn't say for sure how or when they ended up on the ground because he doesn't even notice that's where they are until he realizes that instead of kissing him, Madge is laughing. Her body shakes beneath him and her lips are no longer doing what they're supposed to.
"What?" he asks, trying to fight the embarrassment of being laughed at. Yeah, he fumbled unsuccessfully with her bra clasp but that's because he's seriously out of practice and the right thing would be for her to help him instead of laugh at him—
"What are we doing, Gale? There's a rock jabbing into my back and we're in the dirt!" She twists to yank a jagged rock the size of her fist from under her and holds it up as proof.
He chucks the offending rock at the closest tree. "Better?"
With a roll of her eyes, Madge sits up and starts dusting herself off. Gale props himself up on his elbows to watch her. She's smiling and shaking her head at him so he doesn't think he offended her… And this forest topsoil is pure and natural, nothing like the coal dust-coated slag he used to have to contend with in 12… Maybe it's just that Madge doesn't consider the forest as romantic a setting as he does. To him, it's about freedom and instinct—and he has some very specific instincts he wants to act on when he's around Madge—but she seems to be concerned with shaking the debris out of her hair and flicking harmless little ants off her leg.
He worries momentarily that she thinks he doesn't want the very best for her, and realizes with a pang that she doesn't actually know that. He forgot to give her the present. Sitting up, he pulls out his wallet, plucks two faded pieces of paper from its folds, and holds them out to her.
"Madge. I meant to give these to you a while ago, but I forgot…"
It takes Madge a few seconds to figure out what she's looking at. When she does, she stares at him in shock. "Wolfgang Mercer? He's my favorite pianist! He was on all the radio broadcasts before the war! Gale, this come-back concert sold out within days of being announced. How did you get tickets?"
He smiles, encouraged by her reaction. "Someone at work said he was the best so I got the tickets when they went on sale… You were on that trip to 12. I knew I'd screwed up and wanted to make it up to you when you got back." But then she didn't want to talk to him and he couldn't blame her. He'd left the tickets in his wallet as a reminder of his newfound ability to cause his own misery.
Suddenly nervous, he reaches for her hand. "Let me take you on a date, Madge. Your kind of date."
Madge starts to nod and a shy smile works its way onto her face. "I'd love that." She scoots over again and kisses him so slowly that he lets himself hope that she might be changing her policy against dirt and inconveniently located rocks. But then she starts laughing again.
"I can't believe we've never been on a date!"
All right, he's clearly not going to get anywhere with Madge or her bra. She's back to looking at the tickets and laughing lightly to herself so he stands up and helps her to her feet. He very considerately helps brush the dirt off the more interesting parts of her body, but she's focused on the tickets. She starts promising how much he'll love the concert, happily babbling about musical things he doesn't understand. He smiles as he returns the canteen and maps to his backpack so they can start hiking again. She's probably right that he'll enjoy the concert, if only because it will mean seeing her this bright and excited.
He's lifting Madge's backpack onto her shoulders again when he spots the unnatural whiteness in the distance, visible through the trees on the valley floor. He hadn't noticed it before in the low light of the morning, but the sun has risen higher now and the stark, artificialness of it stands out as something manmade amidst the muted browns and greens.
It looks like one of those trailers he's seen throughout the area. Like the trailer that disappeared when someone broke into his jeep on their last hike.
#
When they get closer, they confirm that it is indeed one of those trailers. A nondescript, boxy, white structure on wheels, situated in a clearing on the valley's floor near the creek they had been trying to find. They can't see or hear any people in the trailer, but that's no guarantee it's empty. After a whispered debate, they decide to get close enough to take pictures and then to hike back into communicuff reception range so Gale can call for backup from his squad. That way even if the trailer disappears once they leave—like last time—they'll have some information about it.
The cheerful gurgling of the creek in the clearing masks other sounds as they leave the safety of the trees and cautiously approach the trailer. Gale tries to be extra vigilant; he's got his gun, but it feels inadequate as protection. He can't stop thinking about getting Madge somewhere he knows for sure is safe. He has to settle for keeping her within reaching distance and constantly scanning their surroundings. And he could kick himself for worrying about bra clasps and dates when danger was so close by. As much as he likes it that they can work together again like they did back home in District 12, when they were in 12 they weren't as inclined to ignore everything other than one another.
From a safe distance, Gale tosses increasingly larger pebbles at the trailer to test if anyone is inside. But nobody comes out.
Madge snaps a few pictures and frowns. "It looks like every other trailer I've ever seen in other districts. Anyone could own it. We need to get closer to see if there's a license plate number. Or a serial number we could trace."
"I'll go." Gale reaches for the camera but Madge holds it away.
"We'll both go. I know what to look for. You can keep watch and… shoot things."
He hesitates, but all signs so far indicate that they should be able to approach and take a few pictures. He gestures for Madge to follow him. They walk in the tire tracks of whatever vehicle pulled the trailer to this location, and judging from the growth of the meadow grasses in the tracks and around the wheels of the trailer itself, it's been here for a week or two. He points out to Madge that it couldn't be the one they saw in the staging area just a few days ago.
Feeling more confident, he calls out. "Hello? Anyone there?"
Silence. He raps on the small door, but nobody answers. A small window to the right of the door lies above his eye level, so he lifts Madge by the waist so she can look.
"Nobody's inside… Gale, it looks like a mobile laboratory," she says incredulously. "There's complicated equipment and glassware everywhere." Bracing herself on his shoulders, she stretches upward for a better view. While she snaps pictures, he reminds himself to scan the clearing's perimeter for threats instead of thinking about how much he likes Madge wriggling against him like this.
"Okay, done," she announces. The second he sets her on the ground she bounds to the door of the trailer and tries to open it. Locked, but of course she wants to pick it.
"You're not breaking in, Madge," he warns. "You're in enough trouble."
"We have a good reason, though," she points out. "Whoever owns this trailer could have had something to do with sabotaging the jeep, which you can legitimately investigate as an attack on military property, Gale, even though I'm suspended."
"Fine. If it's my investigation, then I say we're leaving and I'll send an armed team back here." He crosses his arms to convey the finality of his decision, annoyed that Madge looks frustrated with him. Apparently he needs to point out the obvious to her: "We have one gun, nobody except Milo knows we're here, and this area is dangerous. You saw what happened to the jeep, and don't forget that bomb on the road to District 3 earlier this summer. We'll message my commander when we're in range. Let's go."
He turns and walks back across the clearing toward their backpacks, biting back the urge to remind her that she got them into that mess at the staging area. She also got them caught in the Justice Building in District 12 when she wanted to steal all that medicine. Both times it was up to him to get them out of the messes. Although, they'd pretty much gotten away with stealing that medicine and it helped a lot of people in District 12 that awful winter… And as frustrating as it had been to hike 20 miles back to civilization after scumbags broke into the jeep, it did mark the longest stretch of time he'd ever spent with her and got them talking about important things again. He smiles faintly as he remembers that kissing her to fool the guards in the Justice Building was the first time they'd kissed. He wonders if she'll blush when he reminds her…
"Gale! Come look at this."
He turns around and sees that rather than following him, Madge wandered in the opposite direction. Typical. She's bending over and looking at something on the ground in the clearing. When he gets close enough, he sees that she discovered a pool of thick sludge, dark and tinged with ghastly bright yellows. The grass surrounding the pool is brown, either dead or dying.
Gale frowns and crouches to get a better look at the puddle. "It looks like what Zipper stepped in the first time I took him into the mountains. I thought that stuff was acid runoff from an abandoned mine… But maybe it's something else."
"They're probably dumping chemicals from their laboratory in this field," Madge says in a disapproving tone. She's already snapping pictures of it.
Gale picks up a stick and pokes it in the sludge, irritated again that people do stuff like this. The pool is near the creek, too. Why are so many people determined to be assholes?
As he's getting annoyed, he senses other eyes on them. It's that old hunting sensation. Standing quickly, he scans the periphery of the clearing. He spots the two figures at the same time that they shout out.
"Hey! What are you doing?"
Two dark-haired men in brown jumpsuits emerge from the trees on the opposite side of the clearing that he and Madge had approached from. The sun glints off silver canisters several feet long they're both carrying.
And that's not all they're carrying: the taller man grips a pistol, aimed at them.
Gale trains his own gun on them. "Stop your approach," he orders. He steps around Madge to block her and runs through his mental catalog of what type of weapon those long silver things could be. A type of bomb he hasn't encountered before? "Weapons on the ground!" he shouts.
The men stop advancing, but the man holding the gun doesn't lower it. His black hair is specked with gray, marking him as older than the other guy, who Gale estimates to be only a few years older than himself. The younger one keeps glancing deferentially at the older one, who calls across the clearing, "Who are you?"
Grateful he wore his uniform, Gale calls back, "This is a military investigation. We don't want any trouble, so get those weapons down now."
The older man swallows and glances suspiciously at Madge. "It doesn't look like a military investigation," he says. "Your partner isn't in uniform." He squints as he looks more closely at Gale. "And you're just that kid with the new government… You're not military." He shakes his head. "Something's not right."
Gale clenches his teeth. So they know who he is but not in the right way. What a waste. He tersely recites: "Gale Hawthorne, Lieutenant, Squad 1035, New Republic Army. On temporary detail to the New Republic Reconstruction Committee by personal request of President Paylor. Now get your goddamn weapons on the ground."
Mr. Skeptical still hesitates and the next thing Gale registers is Madge inching up to him. She reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his communicuff.
Before he realizes what her plan is, she holds the communicuff aloft so the two men can see it. "If I press this button the rest of the good lieutenant's squad will be crawling all over this valley in minutes. But I don't think you want this to be an emergency anymore than we do."
"There's no reception out here," the younger man says. He pushes his glasses more securely onto the bridge of his nose in a gesture that reminds Gale of Beetee, who has the same build and often employed the same practical tone when pointing out the technical limitations of Gale's ideas in the weapons lab. But thinking of Beetee gives Gale an inspiration.
"We put transmission boosters on that ridge," he lies, jerking his head in the direction he and Madge had come from. "We always signal boost in this area—too many idiots running around with guns. And if you really want to elevate this, keep pissing me off."
After another brief hesitation, the older guy crouches to set his gun on the ground, and lays the silver canister down besides it. The younger one sets his canister down too and both men hold their hands out to show that they're empty. "We aren't doing anything wrong," the older one says slowly. "We need to be able to defend ourselves. This area's a free-for-all. One of our trucks was bombed last month."
"Who are you?" Gale demands.
"We're with an outfit in District 3 called Rare Earth Metals. Just prospecting for parcels to bid on. Perfectly legitimate."
The men do have the dark-haired, spindly District 3 look. No wonder the younger one reminded him of Beetee. They could easily be Beetee's brother and nephew, though Gale knows Beetee didn't have any living relatives. He feels Madge lean in to whisper, "Rare Earth Metals is the name of the company that owns that excavator we found on the hike last week. I ran the serial number. Get their identification papers to confirm."
"I.D.," Gale calls to the men. They toss their wallets over and Madge darts out to retrieve them. She pulls out their citizen identity cards and some business cards. With a glance, Gale takes in the District 3 addresses and business cards decorated with a big red logo "R.E.M." Looking more closely at their jumpsuits, he sees the same letters on the sleeves.
"What's this all about?" Beetee's Would-be Brother asks.
"We're looking into security threats," Gale says. "Is that your trailer?"
Beetee's Nephew nods and adjusts his glasses again. "We were bringing back rock samples—" he gestures to the canisters, "to test in the lab."
"What are you testing for?" Madge asks conversationally.
To Gale's surprise, the men seem happy to talk about their activities. Maybe droning on about science stuff is another District 3 trait they share with Beetee. They describe how they use the lab to detect the types of metals they're prospecting for, which are usually only found in small quantities so they have to take samples of the earth and run several tests with chemicals to determine if the sample contains the right type of metal. The metals they need are used in electronics manufacturing, which does make sense if they're with a company out of District 3.
Madge murmurs to Gale that their explanation matches what she learned researching their company before being suspended. "I want to look inside the trailer."
Of course she does. He calls over to the men, "Mind if we take a look inside that trailer?"
The two men exchange a glance and then the Nephew tosses over a key. Gale eyes them suspiciously—are they letting Madge look around because they have nothing to hide? Because she and Gale wouldn't understand what they find anyway? Madge grabs the key from the grass and smirks at Gale before disappearing into the trailer.
Gale returns his attention to the two men in the field, still unwilling to lower his weapon. "You mentioned a bomb," he prompts. "What happened?"
The men describe one of their trucks being hit around the same time Dusty was called to deal with the explosion on the road between Districts 2 and 3. He'd bet anything it was the same incident. The official explanation was that it was a land mine left by retreating Peacekeepers, but these guys don't seem to buy that. It wrecked one of their mobile labs, like the trailer Madge is exploring, and set them back a few weeks. They seem to suspect one of their prospecting rivals was responsible.
"There are so many high value minerals in this area, everyone wants to put in bids here," the Nephew says sullenly.
Gale quizzes them on how many trailers they have and their whereabouts. Just this one, which they say has been in this location for a couple of weeks and which Gale's observations of the nearby plant growth confirm. They say their rivals also have these same types of mobile labs, and that they're not the only prospectors who use chemical tests to confirm the presence of the minerals they're looking for.
Soon Madge reappears in the trailer's doorway, holding a spiral-bound notebook. Gale is relieved to see she didn't fall into a vat of acid or whatever other laboratory hazards might be in that trailer. He tries to catch her eye, but she's already asking the two men questions.
"Can your equipment detect uranium?"
The older one shifts uneasily and eyes Madge as she marks a page in the notebook with her finger. Gale feels a flare of pride that she must have found something in that notebook that they won't be able to deny. And then panic overtakes the pride as he realizes how serious her question is. Uranium is what makes nuclear weapons nuclear weapons. Also known as the type of weapons not even Snow and Coin considered using. He grips his gun more tightly, and wills Madge to move back closer to him.
"It can," the man says evasively. "But we aren't looking for it."
"Have you found any uranium out here?" she presses.
"We don't need it."
"But do you encounter it?"
"Obviously we do," he says impatiently. "It's associated with the rare earth metals in the rock formations in this region. Processing for one leaves the other as a by-product."
"Is that what that yellow pool of crud is?" Gale asks, pointing to the pool he and Madge had been looking at earlier. "Uranium?"
"It's… whatever we don't need after we run our tests."
Gale glares at the men. "So you just pour it out wherever you feel like. Isn't that stuff radioactive?"
"Well, those are very small quantities," the younger man jumps in huffily. "Really, it's no worse than the acid runoff from old mines or natural rock erosion."
Wincing slightly at his own past justification for weapons development being thrown back at him, Gale can't bring himself to respond to the faultiness of that reasoning. Instead he summarizes what the men have said. "So your competitors could be interested in the same land as you… but they could want the uranium, not the rare earth whatevers."
"That's what we think is happening," the older man says testily. "It's why we need to be armed."
Madge walks over from the trailer to stand next to Gale and focuses on the two men. "Uranium mining is illegal by anyone other than the government because of weapons and national security concerns." She sounds authoritative, and eerily like her father. "Not reporting the discovery of a controlled element is… serious. Even in small quantities like you're talking about, but more so because you're not disposing of it properly." She turns toward Gale. "Lieutenant Hawthorne, doesn't the military have the final say over all weapons issues?"
Gale nods, taking his cue from her. That sounds right and he trusts that Madge knows what she's talking about. "We do. And we don't appreciate people hiding weapons materials."
"Maybe," Madge says, pausing for emphasis as she looks at the two men again, "the military would be more understanding about your oversight in not reporting this if it was an honest mistake and you could help us figure out who's setting off bombs in this region."
"The more specific you can be, the better," Gale adds, finally lowering his gun.
#
Madge drives them back to her aunt and uncle's house so Gale can brief his commanding officers via communicuff as soon as they're back in transmission range. The men with the trailer hadn't had any means of communication, so she and Gale couldn't do anything other than take their statements and some photographs. Madge had been relieved that they didn't seem to be aware of any of the recent unflattering media coverage about her, and that they wouldn't have the opportunity to talk to anyone else before the soldiers arrive. The shadowy connections between a lot of these companies—rivals one day, partners the next—leaves her uneasy.
"I need to get to work and stop that land proposal," Gale tells Madge as he presses buttons on the tiny keypad. "And to make sure people know they can't get ahead by cheating and hiding information. If some piece of land is worth more, pay more for it. People like Douglas and Simon's shitty brother shouldn't be skewing the information; that's not fair to people like those guys today who've been working their asses off and getting bombed for just trying to make a living."
Madge smiles at how Gale seems to be personally offended. "I'm with you one hundred percent, Gale."
He shifts his attention back to his communicuff and mutters something she can't quite hear.
"What was that?" she asks.
"You should be," he repeats. "With me. One hundred percent."
She turns back to the road, not entirely sure what he means. "I am…"
"No, you live in the Capitol. I want you with me one hundred percent."
"But you're still enlisted," she says. Before she can point out that he could be sent anywhere at any time or ask what "with him 100%" means (of the time?, in principle?, not to date other people?, move to District 2?), she turns the corner onto her aunt and uncle's street and notices that their car is still out front. That's odd—they should have left for work by now. Another unfamiliar vehicle is parked in front of the house as well. She fights the rising panic that the tabloids finally located her.
Gale sits up straighter in his seat. "Those are government plates," he says. Before Madge finishes parking, he pushes open the car door and marches up to the house. Madge shuts his door and hurriedly trails him. She bursts into the entryway in time to hear Gale demanding information.
"Who are you people?" He looks at a man and woman sitting stiffly on the couch in the living room. Madge has never seen them before, though her stomach drops as she recognizes the Covert Intelligence insignia on the lapels of their black, three-piece suits. They have the unnerving, professional just-doing-our-job vibe so common among former Peacekeepers. Only the color of their attire is wrong. She glances nervously at Perri, who is standing tight-lipped and with crossed arms in the entryway. The intruders rise in unison from their seats on the couch, looking past Gale to Madge.
"Miss Undersee," the woman says in a formal tone. "Your disciplinary hearing will convene this afternoon at C.I. Headquarters. We are to escort you to ensure your attendance. And we're late." While she speaks, her partner watches Gale closely and not so subtly unbuttons his jacket so his gun holster is visible.
Gale moves in front of Madge. "She's not going anywhere," he snaps. Madge sees his hand moving toward his own holster and smoothly reaches for his arm. She gives him what she hopes is a reassuring squeeze before he can make any overtly threatening gestures.
"I don't understand the need for an escort," she says, her voice shaking despite her efforts to appear calm. Maybe this is a misunderstanding. "We weren't going to be gone long, and I would have come in whenever I got back…"
Perri lets out an exaggerated sigh, no doubt for the benefit of the escorts. "Believe me, Madge, they have been informed at length about the needlessness of their trip. I believe this overreaction is due to your office being unable to reach you by phone this morning, in combination with being unable to locate your friend Simon at all."
"Miss Undersee," the woman escort takes a step forward, "if you have any knowledge of Mr. Barker's whereabouts—"
"I don't," Madge says automatically. It's true, but she wouldn't tell them even if it weren't.
She feels Gale shift as his neck twists and he looks around the room. "Perri," he says in a low tone, "where is my family?"
Perri's expression softens slightly as she looks at Gale. "They got restless and took Zipper to the creek in the town center. Dusty is at work. I've been waiting with our visitors."
Madge takes advantage of Gale's distracted relief to ask Perri, "What… happens at a disciplinary hearing?"
Perri shoots laser beams of disapproval at the escorts as she answers. "What an extremely pertinent question, Madge. Unfortunately, these individuals have refused to answer it. And I certainly don't know, since the proceedings are closed to the public."
The escorts both ignore Perri's gripe, giving Madge a sense of what the morning was probably like as they all waited for Madge and Gale to return. They'd never be able to hold their own in a debate with Perri; ignoring her would have been the only option. The man looks at Madge and speaks in the same even tone the woman had employed earlier. "Miss Undersee, we're severely behind schedule. If you would like to change into more formal clothes, we can give you a few minutes."
"She's not changing clothes because she's not going anywhere," Gale spits out like it's the most obvious thing ever and these people are idiots for not realizing it. He reaches for one of her hands and intertwines their fingers like he's handcuffing her to himself. "She's definitely not going to some bogus hearing."
The escorts look mildly annoyed, and just when the man opens his mouth to say something to Gale, Perri jumps in first.
"Madge, go change. And pack an overnight bag." Before Gale can react she adds, "Gale, kitchen. Now."
Gale doesn't loosen his grip on Madge until the escorts both sit back on the couch again to signify that the standoff has been defused. He shoots them a warning glare that they don't notice and then reluctantly follows Perri into the kitchen.
Madge warily passes the escorts, busy checking messages on their communicuffs, and retreats to her bedroom. Is Perri really going to let her be subjected to a secret trial? She promised she wouldn't let anything happen to Madge… Dismally, Madge thinks maybe Perri doesn't have as much influence as she wishes she did…
Madge changes into one of her skirt suits and tries to make her hair look like she hasn't been hiking all morning, but it's pointless. She'll probably be convicted of Bad Hair on top of whatever else she's facing. Then she throws a few things into her overnight bag and thinks about how she hasn't slept in the same place two nights in a row in the last half-week… Here, a mountain, Gale's bed, Simon's couch, here again. And now it looks like she's going back to the Capitol—to what, a jail cell? How can she pack for jail?
There's a knock. "Madge."
Relieved to hear Gale's voice, she flings open the door and doesn't mind when he wrinkles her suit with his crushing hug. He speaks fast and low into her hair and it takes all her concentration to focus on his words rather than on how much she wants to rewind time to when they were kissing in the forest just a few hours ago. She'd take an uncomfortable rock in her back over this uncertainty in a second.
"I can't believe I'm letting you leave," Gale's words tumble out. "Perri says you have to go, but she's going with you and has a plan…" He takes a deep breath, almost inhaling her. "I'm going to track down Milo and talk to my commanding officers and find out what I can to help you and—"
"Call Simon, Gale," Madge interrupts. She breaks away from him to write Simon's phone number down. "I haven't been able to get in touch with him, but Perri might be able to help him too."
Gale stares at the scrap of paper like it's diseased. "Did it occur to you he's not calling you back because he's turned on you?"
"There's nothing to turn on me about," Madge says.
"Oh yeah? How about his piece of crap brother?"
Perri appears in the doorway before Madge can respond again. "Ready, Madge?"
"No," Madge says scornfully. Of course she's not ready. She has no idea what she's facing. "Perri, can they really give me such short notice for this kind of thing?"
"No. But our friends in the living room aren't the right audience for that particular protest. They are extremely well-informed on my views on this matter and have not been convinced." She reaches to pick up Madge's bag and says frankly, "They're armed and they're under orders—however ill-advised—to escort you to this hearing."
"It's not fair," Madge fumes.
"It's also not happening the way they expect," Perri says calmly as she turns to leave. Madge looks at Gale and then they follow her to the front yard where Perri coolly informs the escorts, "My niece and I will be driving in our own vehicle. Feel free to escort us from a safe distance behind." When they protest, she holds up her hand to silence them. "You are escorting us, as obligated. I am a well-known public figure serving the same government you serve in a position of public trust. My niece and I pose no conceivable flight risks. Shoot us off the road if at any point you disagree."
With that she tosses the bags into the back of the car and opens the driver's door. "Gale, you have the phone numbers?" He nods. "Say good-bye to Madge."
Madge watches the escort soldiers confer with each other and then trudge toward their own vehicle. Gale looks just as surprised as she is. "I wasn't sure that would work," he says quietly. Seconds later he pulls her into a hug. "Perri will explain more in the car," he whispers. Then he kisses her and squeezes her again. "I'll talk to you soon."
A/N: Happy Religious Holiday Weekend! And welcome to the new readers! Please take a moment to review and let me know what you thought. I'm writing this story partly because I love these characters so much and partly to learn more about writing, so I'm interested in hearing what people like and don't like and what I could do better. I know there was a lot going on in this chapter, and some of it is intentionally not being explained yet, but I'd still appreciate hearing if there was anything especially confusing. Also, I've gotten off my ideal updating scheduling (due to my life totally sucking; I'll spare you the details) and I'm curious who's still reading this story. And also out of curiosity – do people have preferences on updating frequency/chapter length? This chapter was longer than I generally like and I wish I could have updated sooner than this, but the Suckiness made that impossible. Still, it would help to know for the future. Thanks!