Page 42 of No Time Off (Lexi Carmichael Mystery #15)

FORTY-TWO

Slash

T he trip to the television station was easy in comparison to the arduous hike across the island. Thankfully, no one paid attention to us as people began spilling onto the sidewalks, talking anxiously with their neighbors and clustering in groups. Their voices rose in confusion and anger. Anti-Chinese sentiment could be heard at every turn. By the time we reached the television station, at just after six thirty, a decent crowd had already formed.

I was in full operational mode, scanning the crowd and environment for any unanticipated variables or unexpected visitors. The scene remained stable. The two lone policemen still stood guard by the door. There was a glass outer door and a metal door a couple of steps inside. It was an odd arrangement, but I surmised it was due to the cyclones. The young kid Paul had identified was already on his radio, looking scared and certainly calling for backup. They had their hands full with the growing commotion.

A quick scan of the faces in the crowd indicated distrust, concern and confusion. People were mostly calm—a few shouted—but I feared that could change at a moment’s notice, especially when reinforcements arrived. We had to act fast. The social media blast and video had bought us the crowd we needed, but the anger and discontent were palpable and growing.

“At least we’re blending in,” Lexi said in a low voice. “No problem there. The crowd gathered faster than we anticipated.”

“I was just thinking that,” I said. “People have been wondering what’s been going on for days. Maivia has no idea what he’s doing as a leader.”

“Because he’s not a leader,” Lexi responded. “He’s doing whatever the Chinese tell him to do. The people want the truth.”

“Are demanding the truth,” I corrected. “As they should.”

“Hey, where’s the real prime minister?” a man shouted at the policemen, drawing a chorus of nods and anxious murmurs from the crowd. “Where is she? Is she in there?”

I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder at the prime minister and instead followed Manny around the left side of the building, near the side where the young policeman stood. They weren’t letting anyone in or out at the moment. We gathered loosely, the prime minister carefully keeping her head down and cap pulled low so she would not be recognized. Yet.

Unfortunately, the crowd had backed the two policemen closer to the doors, and we needed to remedy that. I motioned to Paul to start the scuffle on the other side of the door so we could get in from the left. He nodded, and he and his guys moved through the crowd into position.

A minute later, we heard some shouting and yelling that a fight had broken out. Like clockwork, the two policemen jumped in to break it up. This was something they were trained to do, not guard doors against a hostile crowd.

I was the last of the five of us to slip into the station. Just as I reached for the door, I could see the older guard turn toward me. He must have been apprehensive about leaving his post unguarded. Before he could complete his turn, Paul hit him from behind, and he went down. I slipped in, and we immediately locked the first door behind us. It didn’t take long for others to start banging on the door, wanting to get let in, too.

It took mere moments to secure both doors. Manny volunteered to keep an eye on them. Once inside, Petra quickly shed her disguise and faced the news crew. Several stared open-mouthed at her and Rangi, who stood beside her in support.

We stood to the side and watched. Several of the television and technical crew scrambled around, still oblivious to the prime minister standing in their midst. The team at the production desk were frantically typing on their computers—probably trying to figure out what was going on with the release of the prime minister’s video. Their fingers flew over the keyboards as the room buzzed with panic, and people called out questions and shouted answers.

Suddenly, a large, commanding man with brown skin, graying stubble, and a badge hanging around his neck stepped forward. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, and his sheer presence commanded authority. I presumed he was the station manager or news director. Definitely someone in charge.

“All, cease!” he shouted. The power in his voice quieted the newsroom instantly, save for some automatic clicking noises in the background. “Petra,” the man said, clearly surprised to see her. “You’re alive and well.”

“Hello, Tane.” The prime minister walked forward to greet him, and he gently took both of her hands in his considerable ones. “I’m sorry to appear here unannounced, but desperate times require desperate measures.”

“Completely understandable,” Tane replied. “I want to say I’m surprised, but with what’s been going on, I’m not. Desperate times, indeed. I assume you have a purpose coming here. How can we help you?”

Petra addressed Tane and the news team with a calm that seemed to steady the room. “I need to speak to the people of the Cook Islands at exactly seven o’clock tonight. That’s in eleven minutes.”

She spoke quietly but with authority, her voice carrying. “I do not condone or support the actions of Liko Maivia, who acted under the direction and orchestration of the Chinese to seize my position without authority, my consent, or due process. I have proof of Chinese involvement. I’ve been in hiding since their takeover, gathering evidence and opposing them at every step. Several police officers on the force have hunted me and my family and endangered people who have stood for our islands, me, and the truth. Some have been arrested, threatened, and even harmed. I want to make sure you and the world know I’m alive and resisting this foreign-sponsored coup.”

“Whoa, Prime Minister, are you sure you want to broadcast that?” a young man asked. Concern and fear were etched on his face. “Once we put you on the air, live, the Chinese will know you’re here.”

Petra’s gaze never wavered. “I’m aware of that. But to back down now will be even more dangerous for the Cook Islands. It’s time for the truth to be told. I’m not afraid to speak so the lies are exposed. The people deserve to know what has happened and what China really thinks of us. They are using us as pawns in their own geostrategic game.”

There was a murmur in the newsroom as the crew and staff looked at each other uneasily, their hesitation and anxiety palpable.

Tane’s expression stayed calm and thoughtful. After a moment, he finally spoke. “If anyone wants out of this, go to my office right now and lock yourselves in. No repercussions, no judgment. If need be, I’ll say you resisted and I locked you in my office for not cooperating. Many of you are young and have families. There’s no shame in stepping aside if you want no part of this. But go now, because I’m putting the real prime minister on the air in a few minutes.”

There were a few gasps, murmurs, and whispers before a hush fell over the newsroom. No one moved—not a single person. Even the heavily pregnant woman with long, dark hair who stood leaning against a desk stayed put, her chin lifted and her eyes on fire.

“I said, go now ,” Tane snapped. “We don’t have time for a discussion. I don’t know how this is going to turn out, and you have every right to disagree with what I’m going to do.”

Still, not a soul in the room moved. It was an astonishing show of bravery, and I’d seen plenty such moments.

Petra closed her eyes, and I could see the show of loyalty had touched her. “Thank you for your support,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Our country, as small as we may be, appreciates you deeply.”

Tane shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it. “All right, team, the die is cast. Let’s get to work. We have about five minutes until airtime. You know what to do. Go!”

As if someone had flipped a switch, the newsroom suddenly turned into a hive of activity. People started yelling orders, running around, and typing frantically on their computers.

Tane put a hand on the prime minister’s arm. “We’ve got your back, Petra. You go up there and do what you need to do, and so will we.”

“Thank you, Tane,” Petra said, giving him a handshake and then a hug. “This means a lot.”

A woman with a set of earphones around her neck abruptly approached them and hustled Petra and Rangi toward the cameras, just as Manny tapped me on the shoulder from behind.

“We’ve got company,” he said in a low voice. “I’ve blockaded the second main entry door with file cabinets and furniture, but they may be able to blast through in a few minutes. They’ve already got through the first door by breaking the glass. They’re discussing what to do about the second since it’s made of metal. I can hear the knuckleheads talking through the door. Their actions are drawing quite a crowd. That’s good for us.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But before they take major measures to break in, they’ll need to get permission,” I said. “They don’t know what they’re up against. It’ll take them a bit of time to sort it out. We’ve also occupied their leadership with other issues to make them hard to reach and every second counts. I’m surprised they haven’t thought to cut the power. Not a sophisticated lot. Let me help Lexi for a minute, and then I’ll come help you.”

Manny returned to his post while Lexi and I quickly set up our equipment. With help from the news crew, we got connected. A quick glance indicated the internet was still up and the social media accounts remained secure and continued to broadcast the prime minister’s video. No one had been able to bring down the government website yet.

I walked over to Tane, who was speaking with a woman who was madly typing something on her iPad. “Can I speak to you for a moment?” I asked him.

Tane nodded and stepped away, taking careful measure of me. He didn’t know me, but I’d come with the prime minister’s inner circle, and that meant something.

“What would happen if the electricity to the studio was cut?” I asked. “Do you have a generator?”

“We do. It’s back behind the studio about thirty feet and surrounded by a concrete wall. We get a lot of cyclones here. The generator automatically pops on when the electricity goes down.”

“Thanks,” I said, and he nodded, walking over to the stage to say something to Petra. I glanced at my watch. Three minutes until she went live.

I checked on Lexi one more time. She had everything ready, including her phone. She would record the prime minister live so we could make sure the broadcast reached more than just the local area.

I kissed her on the forehead. “Stay safe,” I murmured.

“Likewise,” she said as Rangi exited the stage, leaving on the prime minister standing alone, ready for her countdown.

I joined Manny. “Any new developments?” I asked in a low voice.

“Nah. The reinforcements have arrived, though,” he replied. “They’ve pushed on the door a couple of times but are unsure what to do next. They’ve been calling for instructions, but it seems like it’s hard to reach the Chinese at the moment.”

I lifted an eyebrow, amused. “Imagine that.” I maneuvered him away from the door. Hey, do you have Paul’s number?” When Manny nodded, I continued. “Good. I want you to call him and have his team do what they can to discreetly protect the station’s generator, which is about thirty feet behind the building and surrounded by a small concrete wall. Just in case Shi or Maivia think to cut the electricity, the generator automatically comes on, so we’d be okay for a bit.”

“Good thinking,” Manny said and whipped out his phone out of his pocket, moving away from the doors to speak softly into the phone.

I stepped back in view of the stage just as Petra turned to face the cameras with the calm poise of a leader who had been preparing for this moment her entire life.

“Good evening, fellow islanders,” she said.