State of Alliance Read Online Free Page A

security perimeter has been established around the block. I spot several familiar figures near the front entrance, an ornate box office with the words, Sacramento Convention Center above the entryway. An empty water fountain is sitting on the concrete, pathetic and lonely.
    “Uriah,” I say.
    He is clean, dark hair combed back against olive skin. He assesses me as I approach, sadness in his coal-colored eyes. “Cassidy,” he replies. “You’re okay.” I raise an eyebrow. “Where is everyone?”
    Alexander Ramos and tall, blonde Derek are not here. “Alexander is inside,” Uriah explains. “Derek is at the hospital.”
    “Is he hurt?” I ask, alarmed.
    “Just nicked. A support beam fell on him yesterday. His arm might be broken.” He sighs. “Another one bites the dust.”
    “His arm is broken,” I say. “He’s not dead. Thank God.”
    “Vera is inside the Convention Center,” Uriah continues. “She’s…different. Her mother’s death. It affected her more than she would like to admit, I think.”
    “Understandable,” I say.
    Angela Wright is dead. Yet another one of us dies at Omega’s hands.
    It infuriates me.
    “They’re waiting for you inside,” Uriah says, standing straighter.
    “Me?”
    “You’re a Senator now, remember?” A slight smile spreads across his lips.
    “How could I forget?” I gesture for him to follow me. We walk together toward the entrance of the Convention Center, entering through the doors. A huge, carpeted foyer and escalators that actually work can be found here. Doors line the walls, each one an entrance to a different floor.
    “Where were you last night, Cassidy?” Uriah whispers.
    “At the hospital.”
    “Why?”
    “I was looking for my Dad.” I shake my head. “I’d rather not talk about my father right now. I need to be calm.”
    “Okay,” Uriah continues. “Let me rephrase that: why weren’t you with Chris at Headquarters last night? The officers were meeting. We needed you.”
    “I had an obligation to make sure my father was alive,” I say.
    Uriah closes his mouth. He understands. He always does.
    “Well…” he pauses. “Is he?”
    “I don’t know,” I say. “He wasn’t at the hospital. He’s still missing in action.”
    He says nothing. There is a gathering of National Guardsmen in uniform at the end of the foyer. We follow them into a huge room – gray floors, gray walls, and huge skylights above our heads.
    “Hey, I’ve been looking for you.” Andrew jumps up from a chair. He is tall and lean, short dark hair cropped into a military buzz. He is a good man. Our so-called “tech guy.” One of the most valuable people in my platoon.
    “Andrew,” I say. “What’s going on here?”
    “They need you,” he replies.
    “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
    “Because it’s true,” Uriah points out.
    I look to the front of the room. I recognize Robert Lockwood – the Pro Tem Speaker of the House. I’m glad to see that he survived the bombing. Manny is seated on a chair, watching the gathering of officers with an annoyed expression on his face.
    Good old Manny. Completely anti-political.
    Chris is standing with his arms folded across his broad, muscular chest, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, his jaw taut. He is talking with Vera Wright. She looks upset, her usually pale cheeks colored with splotches of red. Chris shakes his head and gestures to the door. She fists her hands at her sides and marches away, in our direction.
    “Vera, what’s wrong?” I ask her.
    She doesn’t answer. She glares at me as she exits the room, never pausing to speak to anyone else. Chris looks up and catches my eye. He nods slightly and turns back to the rest of the officers.
    I walk over. And then I see why Chris is so tense. Colonel Rivera – a big, blundering man with a cigar wedged between his teeth – is speaking. This is the man who denied the militias backup during a fight with Omega. This is the man who refused to send a