“Solutions?” Duncan asked. He hated the question because he had his own answer: to personally hunt down and catch whoever was behind the attacks. Instead he was stuck deciding what to do about the population’s spending habits. There might be ways to ease the problem, but he knew damn well that the only real solution was to rain down a healthy dose of Deep Blue justice.

“People are afraid,” Roberts said. “We have to make them feel safe. Encourage cities to increase patrols. Address the nation. Talk about the progress being made in tracking down the ‘evil doers.’”

“What progress?” Hussey said.

Roberts rolled her eyes. “Exaggerate if you need to. The point is people won’t go out. They won’t congregate in places with other people if they feel like it puts them in the crosshairs.”

“You’ll need to appeal to their wallets as well,” Hussey said. “Making them feel safe is one thing, giving them incentive to spend will pull people off their couches and out of their homes.”

“Larry…” Roberts said. She apparently knew where Hussey was headed and wasn’t comfortable with it.

He waved her off. “It’s a good idea, Claire.” Then continued. “Suspend sales and meal taxes for a week. Maybe two. Some people won’t be able to resist. And when nothing bad happens to them, the rest will follow.”

“That would require a lot of state cooperation,” Duncan said.

“Mm-hmm,” Hussey said. “We’d likely have to reimburse their losses. But it could prevent a financial meltdown.”

“Sir,” Roberts said, trying to interject.

But Duncan liked the idea. “Get it done.”

Roberts sighed. It was her turn to deflate. “Why don’t you tell him whose idea that was, Larry.”

Hussey’s face went pale.

The door to the conference room opened. Duncan’s secretary entered and fought her way through the packed space. Duncan knew by the serious look on her face that she had an important message to deliver, but he needed an answer from Hussey, too. “Spill it, Larry.”

“I thought you would have known,” Hussey said. “It was on the news.”

“I’ve been a little distracted,” Duncan said. The secretary was almost there.

“The idea was Marrs’s.”

Fuck. Marrs was going to eat this up. Not only had he already committed to the idea in front of all his advisors, it was also a good idea. He couldn’t back out on it just because it came from Marrs first.

His secretary whispered in his ear. He flinched, having forgotten she was incoming. “Dominick Boucher called. Wants you to make contact asap.”

The nation’s economic woes took an instantaneous backseat. “Make contact. Those were his words exactly?”

The secretary nodded.