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An hour later- or was it longer? Melinda couldn’t be sure and she was trying to fight down a growing sense of panic. Once they had been handcuffed the police had been downright polite ushering them into the back of an unmarked, windowless van that had two benches in the back. Harvey and Steven had spent some time examining the back door but whoever had designed this prisoner transport van had known what they were doing. They had nothing that could break them out and no phone signal to call for help. As the minutes ticked away it became increasingly obvious that wherever they were going, they weren’t going downtown for booking, processing, and a comfortable jail cell at the Minnehaha County Jail.
Melinda could stand it no longer: “Where are they taking us?”
“South, I think,” Harvey said.
“Whatever is going on, I think we just have to see how it plays out,” Steven said.
“How can you be so calm?”
“Think about it, honey,” Steven said. “If they were going to arrest us, we would be at their jail by now. If they were going to put us on a plane, well then we were right by the airport- we would be on one by now.”
“And Homeland Security would have met us at the jail,” Harvey said. “He’s right. We have to see how this plays out.”
“But where are we going?” Melinda repeated.
“Well,” Harvey said, “If I’m wrong and we’re going north then we’d be at about Brookings by now. Maybe Watertown. If we’re going west, then a visit to the Corn Palace at Mitchell is a distinct possibility or you never know, they could be taking us to Wall Drug.”
“You know, I’ve never been there,” Steven said.
“The coffee’s cheap,” Harvey shrugged. “Not that much more to it.”
“I thought it was the place to be in South Dakota,” Steven said.
“It’s one of those places you’re sort of obliged to visit,” Harvey said. “Once you’ve been there, you’re off the hook.”
“What about east or south?” Melinda asked.
“East we’d be back in Minnesota already,” Harvey said. “South is interesting, though if my sense of direction isn’t off, we’re either headed to Yankton or taking a very back-asswards route to Iowa or Nebraska.”
“That’s not reassuring,” Melinda said.
“They don’t know who we are,” Steven said, touching his face as a reminder that their nano-masks were still holding.
“That’s not reassuring either,” Melinda replied. “They could be taking us anywhere. They could be taking us out to a cornfield to shoot us all. We don’t know where we are or what we’re-” Almost as if the driver had heard her, the van started to slow before making one final turn and coming to a halt. They waited in tense silence as they heard first the driver and then the passenger side doors open up and then close and heard the jingling of keys as their drivers walked around to the back and then the door was opened and:
“Let me see those hands,” Their driver was a Minnehaha County Deputy but he had been joined by two State Troopers. The Deputy that had accompanied their driver walked around behind the driver to open up the other side of the door. The three of them all raised their hands.
“You’re not going to give us any trouble, right?” The driver asked.
“No,” Melinda said. “Can you tell us where we are?”
“Come on out nice and slowly and one at a time and you can see for yourselves,” he said. “Somebody wants to have a word with the three of you.”
Melinda stepped forward and, hands still in the air hopped down out of the van. The Trooper closest to her pointed to his right. “Right this way, ma’am,” he said. Melinda stepped around the corner of the van and discovered that they were standing on the shoreline of a lake where a large dock and a boat with South Dakota Fish and Wildlife markings were tied up and waiting.
Hands still raised, she started to walk towards the dock, the Trooper beside her. She glanced behind her and Steven and Harvey were just behind her, the other Trooper and one of the Deputies each keeping a close eye on them.
Reaching the dock, they walked out towards the boat. “Get in,” the Trooper gestured. “And sit there-” he pointed to a bench at the back of the boat. Melinda climbed in and sat down, Steven and Harvey climbing in behind her and sitting next to her. The other Trooper got into the boat with them while the Deputy untied the boat from the dock. “You’re good to go,” he called over.
The driver of the boat, a nervous-looking young man in the light brown uniform of the Fish and Wildlife Department nodded and waved as the engine of the boat roared to life and they pulled away from the dock. “Is this Lewis and Clark Lake?” Harvey called up to one of the Troopers.
“Yep,” he answered.
The boat began to skim across the water. The sun was starting to descend into the west ahead of them and Melinda had to admit that it looked beautiful the breeze on her face felt wonderful and she reached over and took Steven’s hand. He smiled and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze even as the boat began to slow down again.
A large pontoon boat was ahead of them now, floating peacefully in the middle of the lake. There was a low-slung covered cabin area at one end of it, with a deck above it covered with a canopy that seemed to be where the controls were. The end was an open deck area bounded by a sturdy-looking railing and, at one side of the boat, something that looked an awful lot like an airport metal detector. Slowing down even more the boat came up alongside a short ladder that led up to the metal detector. One of the Troopers quickly grabbed the rope that the boat had been tied up to the dock with and, once the ladder was in reach looped the rope around it tied as tightly as he possibly could.
“All right,” he said, turning to the three of them in the back of the boat. “Head on up.” Exchanging glances with Steven and Harvey, Melinda stood up and walked to the front of the boat. “Make sure you go through the scanner one at a time,” he said as Melinda stepped over the side of the boat and grabbed the rungs of the ladder. She ascended carefully and stepped over the railing onto the pontoon boat. She eyed the scanner but with Steven waiting to step onto the boat and Harvey just behind him, she didn’t have a choice. She stepped through.
And began sneezing uncontrollably. Dust began cascading off of her face and Melinda realized that it was the nano-mask falling off her, one molecule at a time. Steven and Harvey had stepped through and were both sneezing as well. Finally brushing the last of the nano-mask off of her face, Melinda began taking stock of her surroundings.
There was a grill. A nice-looking one with a cooler next to it and a wide bench that ran around the length of the back of the boat. Ahead of them was a door that looked like it led to the living quarters below. Another ladder was next to it that led up to the wheel and the rest of the controls above. Harvey and Steven had finished brushing the remains of their nano-masks off of their faces and were looking around as well when the boat that had transported them powered up its engine and pulled away from the pontoon point before making a long, leisurely turn and heading back to shore.
“What the hell?” Steven said.
“Maybe they’re giving us the boat,” Melinda said.
“I doubt it,” Harvey said. “Someone’s got to be here.”
The door leading down to the living quarters opened up and- “Someone is here,” rumbled a voice. “Welcome to the Angelina. I’m Governor Allenby.” Governor Chadwick James Allenby of South Dakota was a tall, mountain of a man who was advancing into his sixth decade with the physique he had built through nearly a decade of professional football more or less intact. The long blonde hair of his playing days, however, had been lost to advanced middle age, and rather than cling to a combover, Allenby had just started shaving it all off.
“Y’all hungry?” Allenby had a plate full of hamburger patties in his hand. “I was just about to start cooking dinner.” He started walking over to the grill. “Harvey,” he said, noticing Harvey who had sat next to one side of the scanner, trying, Melinda thought to do his best to stay out of sight. “Should have known you would have been mixed up in this somehow.”
“Why Governor,” Harvey replied. “Did you miss me?”
“Like a boil on my ass, Harvey,” Allenby replied as he opened the grill lid and set the plate to one side. “Like a boil on my ass.”
“What are we doing here?” Melinda asked.
“Well, give me about fifteen minutes and you’ll be having some pretty decent hamburgers,” Allenby replied.
Steven smiled. “I think what she’s trying to say is-”
“I know what she’s trying to say,” Allenby replied. He turned the gas grill on opened a drawer and began taking out spice bottles. “And if I’m not mistaken, you’d be General Steven Corcoran, which makes her Melinda Corcoran. Which means I’m cooking for three of the Federal Council’s most wanted.”
“It’s been a while since we’ve eaten,” Melinda admitted as she sat down watching as Allenby began to sprinkle various seasonings on his hamburger patties. “And it’s been about ten years since I’ve had a decent hamburger,” Steven added, sitting next to her. “You come here often?”
“Once a year, the wife and our three daughters take over the Governor’s Mansion for the Annual Statewide Girl Scout Convention,” Allenby replied. “Not wanting to drown in estrogen, even pre-pubescent estrogen, I usually come down here for the week.”
“And sit in the middle of the Lake?” Melinda asked.
Allenby shrugged. “I’ve got wi-fi, cell reception, and a laptop down below. I actually get a surprising amount of work done.”
“But my original question still stands,” Melinda said. “What are we doing here?”
Allenby passed a hand over the grill. “Should be warm enough,” he said and began slapping hamburger patties down onto the grill. When he was done, he closed the lid again and turned around to face them.
“We’ve had Falls Park under surveillance for nearly a month and a half now,” he said. “When Homeland Security damn near has a seizure over a hacker burning herself to death in my state I get curious as to why.”
“You were expecting us?” Melinda asked.
“We were expecting someone,” Allenby corrected. “The three of you are something of a surprise, I’ll admit. Did you get what you were looking for?”
Harvey reached into his pocket and produced the USB port the maintenance man had passed them back at the park. “I wondered why they were so lax when they searched us.”
“So what do you want from us?” Steven said.
“I want to know what you’re after,” Allenby said. He turned back to the grill and opened the lid and began flipping burgers.
“We’re not entirely sure,” Steven said. “Just a name. Prisoner 112.”
“Well,” Allenby said. “I’ve got free Wi-Fi. And all of you should have your phones. Do what you got to do and then let’s eat.”
“My phone’s dead,” Harvey said.
“Mine’s not,” Melinda said. She stood up and held her hands out to Harvey, who tossed the USB port over to her. Digging out her phone, she flipped open the slot on the side for the USB port and plugged it in. Her phone registered the data and asked her what she wanted to do with the file. “Now we found out if The Key is as good as he says he is,” Melinda said and opened the file and immediately, a dossier for Prisoner 112 appeared on the screen, complete with a picture. She sat down again, legs feeling unsteady, not wanting to believe what she was looking at. “That’s impossible,” she said.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Steven asked. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Melinda passed him the phone. “It’s because I have seen a ghost,” she said. “Either that or someone’s playing a very sick joke.”
Steven took the phone and she watched his eyes widen in disbelief he, in turn, passed the phone to Harvey who gave a long, low whistle as he saw the facing page of the dossier on the phone’s small screen. “So the tinfoil hat brigade has been right all along.”
“She’s alive,” Steven said.
“It’s impossible,” Melinda said, shaking her head. “We would have heard rumors. We would have heard something.”
“There were rumors,” Harvey replied. “But after the Twin Cities fell, everything was chaos and by the time the dust settled enough for anyone to investigate the question had descended into...” he fumbled for a word.
“The realms of conspiracy?” Steven supplied.
“Yeah,” Harvey said. He shrugged. “You both know how bad it was.” Steven and Melinda exchanged a glance, knowing full well what Harvey was talking about. The last days of the Great Revolt had been chaotic as Alliance forces had begun melting back into the general population and civil order began to break down.
“Who’s alive?” Allenby asked. He had finished flipping the burgers and retrieved a packet of buns from a cabinet underneath the grill and placed them to the left of the grill.
“If this is true… it… changes things.” Melinda said.
“If it’s handled correctly,” Steven said. “And if we can find out where she’s being held. We still need to get this verified.”
“Who’s alive?” Allenby asked again, a little more insistently.
“You’ll have to go back home for that,” Harvey said to Steven. “We can exfiltrate you back through Winnipeg. It’ll take a couple of days though.”
“We need to move fast on this,” Steven said. “Capitulation Day is less than a week away. We’ll need to be back in the Territories before then.”
“Will one of you please tell me who’s alive?” Allenby said, irritably.
Harvey, phone still in his hand, stood up and walked over to the Governor of South Dakota. “Here, see for yourself.” Setting the spatula he had been holding aside, Allenby took the phone from Harvey and found himself looking down at the dossier for Prisoner 112 whose photo he instantly recognized. Prisoner 112 had been missing and presumed dead for nearly two decades and had been an influential and powerful Governor as well as an inspiration to many in the Alliance of States that had formed to fight the Great Revolt against the Federal Council. In the picture, her hair was down and not in its usual tight ponytail but there was no mistaking the smile and the piercing green-eyed stare of the long-lost Governor of Minnesota, Isabella Sanderson.