Page 43 of No Time Off (Lexi Carmichael Mystery #15)
FORTY-THREE
Lexi
T he walk to the television station had been nerve-racking, but that was tempered by the ease of our entrance into the building. Our plan was proceeding on schedule, but there was always time for everything to go sideways.
I happened to know a lot more about that than most people.
Now was the moment of truth. Petra stood in front of the cameras as a woman with headphones on held up her hand and silently counted down from five on her fingers. I readied my phone, tapping the record button as Petra started talking.
“Good evening, fellow islanders,” she began, her voice strong but measured. “Today, our country stands at a crossroads. Forces outside our borders wish to see us become pawns in a game we did not choose. While we are a small nation, we will not be used or silenced.”
She succinctly explained what had happened, giving a brief summary of the proof she had gathered regarding Chinese involvement and Maivia’s complicity. Her calm words rang out, filling the studio. Despite the tension, there was a riveting power in her delivery. She was fighting for more than just her own survival. She was battling for the soul of the nation, and that came through loud and clear.
“The time has come to ask for your support,” the prime minister continued. “We must resist these forces and keep our ties strong with our historic partners in New Zealand, and with all nations that stand for democracy. We may be small, but our voice is not insignificant. Together, we fight oppression, we fight corruption, and we fight for the future of our children.”
A security guard appeared at Tane’s side, leaning close to him and whispering urgently. Tane waited for a natural break in Petra’s speech and took a moment to speak from off camera. “Prime Minister,” he called out. “Liko Maivia and some police are gathering outside the station. They’re coming for you.”
Petra’s face tightened, but she didn’t flinch. Instead, she kept her expression defiant. “They may take me away, but to stop the free spirit of the Cook Islands, they will have to remove every single one of us. The truth will be known.”
She stepped away from the camera as the crew moved quickly to cut the feed. I immediately stopped the video on my phone and dashed to my laptop to download and send it to Elvis and Xavier.
“Protect yourselves,” Petra said to the news staff. “Please. I intend to go out and face them. Just tell them you were coerced.”
“Petra, no, I will not let you do that,” Rangi protested hotly. “They might kill you on the spot. It’s lunacy.”
“He’s making sense, Prime Minister,” Tane said. “Listen to him. Think about what you’re doing.”
“I will not go into hiding again, and I’ll not stand down,” Petra said firmly. “The truth is out there now. What is done with it, my friends, is now up to you. But thank you, Tane and Rangi. You are both true friends, and I’m honored to know you.” She turned and faced an eerily quiet newsroom. “In fact, my gratitude extends to all of you for your courageous stand. I’m proud to represent you.”
I lifted my eyes from my laptop and saw Slash step away from the door, where the banging and shouting was even louder now. They would be here soon anyway.
Slash had picked up the filming from his phone now, and others in the newsroom had started doing it, too.
Our eyes met across the room, and I immediately knew what he was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing. The risks were high, but this was her show now. It was up to Petra to save her country. Slash and I had done what we could. Anything from here on out was up to the people of the Cook Islands.
Rangi finally fell silent, realizing nothing he could say would persuade the prime minister to change her mind. Petra walked past Slash, put a hand on his shoulder, and then came face-to-face with Manny.
“Open the door,” she instructed him.
“Petra, I—” he started, but she shook her head.
“Don’t argue. Just do it, Manny. Please.”
He stared at her for a long moment and then with a sigh began moving the furniture. Rangi went to help him while Slash came to stand next to me.
“I want everything on camera from this moment on,” Tane ordered his staff. “Multiple views and sound. We’re going live right now. Let’s show the people what’s really happening.”
The team behind the cameras scrambled as they yanked the equipment off the tripods and hoisted the cameras onto their shoulders. They moved into awkward positions around Rangi and Manny, filming between the prime minister and the door that was slowly opening.
“Let’s go,” Slash said to me, cutting off his video and sticking his phone in his pocket.
We grabbed our laptops—my video had downloaded and was now sending to Elvis and Xavier—and headed deeper into the station with several other members of the news crew.
I glanced over my shoulder as Manny moved the last piece of furniture and the police spilled into the room, shouting and grabbing the prime minister by the arms. The last thing I saw was Petra being escorted out of the station with Manny and Rangi right behind, shouting at the police. The news crew continued filming as they followed her out.
We ducked into a room along with the pregnant woman and the woman wearing the headphones. She locked the door behind us.
“Can you pull up the live feed?” Slash asked her.
“I can,” she replied and went to a laptop on a nearby desk. She typed several commands, and suddenly the feed was projected onto a wide screen attached to the wall.
The police had Petra outside in front of the station, held on either side by officers. Manny and Rangi were also being held—and Manny was already cuffed. The crowd had grown to twice the size it had been when we had arrived. Voices were rising in a swelling tide of anger and support. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Petra’s stance was impressive and unshakable.
Then, the moment came. The crowd parted as Liko Maivia, with the pin containing the image of the jeweled coat of arms of the Cook Islands on his lapel, marched into sight with several police officers accompanying him, including some Chinese ones. One of the cameramen zoomed in on the pin, and there were some audible gasps from the crowd.
“Prime Minister, you are under arrest,” Maivia declared.
Petra, who was still being held by police on each side of her, cocked her head at Maivia, looking puzzled. “For what, exactly, am I under arrest?” she asked.
“For…” Maivia started, suddenly realizing he hadn’t thought this through. “For resisting arrest. For spreading propaganda.”
“For telling the truth, you mean,” Petra said. “For exposing your Chinese-backed takeover. I did not resign, nor did I agree to relinquish my position as prime minister to you. You forcefully took it, with the assistance of the Chinese, and when I escaped your arrest, you had to make up fabrications to account for my disappearance. You are a traitor and a disgrace to the Cook Islands by falsely wearing that pin, which has been peacefully passed down for generations. I neither presented it to you nor believe you are worthy to wear it. But now the truth is out there, Liko. What are you going to do about it?”
His face flushed with anger. “I’m going to put you where you belong. In jail.”
He turned sharply on his heel, and the police officers started to follow with Petra in tow. But members of the crowd suddenly moved to form a protective barrier between her and Maivia.
“Do not let them take your spirit or your independence,” Petra cried. “Stand up for the truth.”
The crowd began to shout and protest.
“Stand up for the truth!” one of the protesters cried, and the others began to echo her, their voices blending and rising to a roar. “You won’t take our spirit or our island!
Suddenly, the mood and energy began to shift. The crowd began to shout in a frenzy, and they closed in tight around the police officers. Someone threw something, a piece of food, perhaps, that knocked off the cap of one of the police officers. It was quickly clear they were going to have an impossible time taking the prime minister anywhere.
We were seconds from an ugly explosion of mob violence when I noticed the kid who had stood guard outside the television station had stepped away from the rest of the police officers.
“Slash, what is that kid is doing?” I asked, pointing him out on the television. “That’s the kid Paul recognized. I think he said his name was Aolani.”
“I remember,” Slash said.
“What’s he doing?” I asked in a hushed voice.
Aolani had been positioned behind the prime minister, but now he came around to the front and wiggled his way in front of Petra. His hand hovered at his side, and then, to the shock of everyone, me included, he unclipped his gun belt and placed it on the ground in front of her feet.
“Release the real prime minister,” he shouted, lifting a fist in defiance.
“Holy crap,” I said. “This is getting real.”
We were riveted to the screen. The two women in the room gave audible gasps. Slash put his arm around me, pulling me in close. For a few heartbeats, I held my breath.
Then, one by one, the other Cook Islands police officers began to follow suit. Their weapons clattered to the ground, each one laying down their weapons and gun belts. When the police officers holding Petra let go of her and did the same, Maivia realized he was left with just the few Chinese cops. When those Chinese police officers turned and pushed their way free of the crowd, Maivia stood alone.
The chanting grew and the crowd tightened until Maivia was forced to turn and face Petra. After a long moment, he unfastened the pin on his lapel and gave it to Petra without a word.
Petra shot her hand in the air, holding the pin, and the crowd erupted in cheers. In our room, everyone let out huge sighs of relief. I was in awe at what I’d just witnessed.
The power of the people.
“Wow,” I said. “I don’t even know what to say. That was really scary and beyond cool at the same time. We saw a revolution unfold right before our eyes.”
“We did, indeed,” Slash said and smiled.
We all started cheering and hugging each other in our little room, including the two women we didn’t even know. Familiarity didn’t seem all that important at this historic moment in time. We had all just shared something exceedingly special, and that created a bond that made hugging and familiarity appropriate. The roars of the crowd from outside, and the cheers coming from inside the station, shook the very foundation of the building.
I planted a big kiss on Slash’s mouth, laughing and cheering on my own. Because, right now, in our world, all was finally right.