Changing Tides by Simone Anderson Page A

several people who passed information to and from Orion.
    “I don’t recognize most of the names on this list, but the ones I do recognize are all people who have questioned decisions made at the capitol or at base level or have made suggestions on the direction to take projects or investigations that don’t follow with what a superior officer has suggested,” Brett answered.
    “Why are you on this list?” Orion asked, grabbing the armrest.
    “I was in charge of my unit’s investigation into the video release. My suggestions didn’t align with my superior’s or what was eventually sent down from Homeland Security at the capitol.”
    “So they’re getting rid of anyone who questions them?”
    “I think so, yes,” Brett said quietly. “I—”
    “Help him to his feet, and bring a chair for him to sit on,” Orion ordered. Thompson helped Brett to his feet. Orion stood and held onto Brett as blood and feeling returned to the other man’s limbs. A chair was produced, and Thompson resumed his stance behind Brett, his gun holstered but not secured.
    Beside Orion, Brett’s eyes glassed over as he obviously warred with his own emotions and beliefs. Orion turned to the group, and they began to plan their next moves. The long-practiced habit of silence had Orion listening, taking notes occasionally and responding rarely. The government was using the video as a cover story for removing a large number of people at once. Sentiments were growing against the government as more and more people were unable to reach loved ones in the institutions.
    “We need to start pushing our agenda forward.”
    The comment drew Orion from his thoughts. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and folding his hands. “We need to bring down this tyrannical regime now,” he said. “People are stirring. They are questioning. If we strike now, the momentum will carry us to victory.”
    “It would,” several people agreed.
    “If we can get the international community to back us, maybe, we can get more weapons from them,” Carter stated.
    “It’s possible,” someone else answered. “But how do we ensure their backing?”
    Orion shook his head. “There will never be irrefutable, unconditional international help. We can’t depend on them.”
    “Agreed, but the information I’ve been able to get suggests that they are against inhumane actions. So, maybe we just need to keep highlighting everything that has been and is being done to our people.”
    Orion looked at the speaker. An older man with graying hair, Paul Moore, was one of their experts in communications. He took pride in being able to gather information from unregulated, non-governmental resources. He’d spent time in prison for it years ago. The experience had left him without a family, more than a little bitter and completely distrustful of any government officials.
    “I like that idea. Bringing it to light for the international community will also bring it to a point that even the staunchest supporters of General Landry and her regime will be forced to admit there are problems,” Carter said.
    Orion listened to the discussion, ideas building off one another before a course of action was agreed on. He didn’t share Carter’s optimism. The most he would hope for was that it got people thinking and kept the momentum going. They would need the people’s support in order to overthrow the dictator and establish a new government. Orion rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the muscles. How many people would they lose trying to regain their country? Would any of them turn against the CFA? He trusted the people in this room implicitly, but what if he made a mistake? And there was Brett. Brett’s actions alone insured that his life could be spared, but without swearing less than his life to their course of action, nobody here would trust him or let him out of their sight for any reason.
    Orion was aware of people getting up. Conversations gradually changed to more