State of Emergency: Jack Emery 2 by Steve P. Vincent Read Free Book Online

stale reports were being read straight from approved media releases. He’d flown out of Las Vegas early after publishing his story on the Hoover Dam, so he had been in the air when the bombshell from the White House had dropped. By the time he’d landed, the screws were already starting to tighten.
    Now, as he drove down West Adams Street toward his hotel, it was clear that FEMA had been prepared for kick-off. He tooted his horn as a black Illinois State Guard Humvee cut him off. The vehicle held four uniformed troopers with their weapons clearly visible, but Jack had seen enough men with guns in recent months to not be intimidated. It was for naught anyway – they didn’t acknowledge his presence as they continued down the street. So much for courtesy among motorists.
    He sighed and pulled the vehicle to the side of the road, right out the front of the Club Quarters Hotel. It had been his home away from home in Chicago since his return from Syria. It wasn’t palatial, but it was cheap and comfortable until he found a place of his own. He’d thought about returning to New York to live, but there were too many memories there. Too much pain. He killed the engine, reached into the back seat for his duffel bag and climbed out of the car.
    A valet rushed over to him. “Welcome back, Mr Emery. Good to see you, sir. Can I take your bag?”
    “No need, Mo.” Jack smiled at the familiar routine and handed over his keys. “Take care of the car though?”
    “You got it.” Mo took the keys and started toward the car. “Unlucky for you that you’re so late. We’ve had issues with check-ins since noon.”
    Jack hefted the duffel bag over his shoulder, confused by Mo’s words, and crossed the sidewalk to the hotel entrance. Once inside he slowed and then stopped entirely. A uniformed Illinois State Guardsman stood in the foyer sporting a bored expression. He didn’t even look at Jack when he entered. Jack swallowed hard and approached the reception desk, behind which sat a cute brunette he knew well.
    “How’s it going, Maggie?” Jack rummaged around in his pocket. He pulled out a cigarette lighter and placed it on the counter. “I got you that lighter.”
    “Oh, thanks! I didn’t think you’d remember.” Her eyes lit up. “Did you have a good time in Vegas?”
    “It was great until the Hoover Dam got attacked.” Jack pulled out his wallet and extracted his credit card.
    “Yeah, isn’t it terrible? Those poor people.” Her expression darkened. “I’ve organized your normal room, but I’m going to need to register you.”
    Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”
    She jerked her head toward the guardsman and then lifted a piece of paper. “New rules. Everyone on this list has to go through enhanced check-in. You’re on the list. I’m sorry.”
    Jack looked at the list. It contained names, occupations and contact details. He laughed at the simplicity of it all. On the back of the huge data trawl that the National Security Agency had been conducting over the past few decades, FEMA had clearly been able to produce a list of people it was interested in keeping track of. As a prominent journalist, he was a prime target for such treatment, though he did wonder how far the list extended.
    “Okay, let’s get on with it.” He gave her a small smile. It wasn’t her fault. “What do I need to do to be able to park my head on the pillow?”
    Maggie smiled. “Oh, just the usual. But we’ve also been instructed to take copies of your license and all of your credit cards.”
    It took about ten minutes for Jack to fill in the paperwork and hand over every piece of ID he possessed. He shook his head as he took the elevator up – he had a bad feeling about where this was all heading. When society started to muzzle and track journalists, bad things tended to follow. He’d seen it in conflict zones overseas, but he’d never expected to see it in the United States.
    Once he reached his room, he tossed the duffel bag