In Washington, Parnell stood in front of the scratched window in his office. Down below in the street, a few cars straggled along in what used to be a busy street. He watched one of the cars break down, with the rest stopping when they couldn't pass because of the overflowing trash bins stacked along the sides of the road.
He turned to look at the image hovering over his scuffed desk. The holograms were supposed to be solid but they never quite managed to perfect the technology. The faded, cream-colored door of his office shone through the image.
As little as fifty years ago he would've had satellite technology at his disposal. Now he had to make do with spies stationed all over the country reporting to him. Until six months ago, they reported very little. Then a small area in the desert
