CHAPTER 2: INTO THE FIRE

They call them War Rooms for a reason. Ours was a commandeered windowless conference room. An old wrinkled sheet of copy paper with the phrase “RESERVED FOR WAR ROOM,” was taped askew to the door. The word “WAR” circled by an ancient coffee stain. Inside were a long rectangular table, and an enormous whiteboard on the wall at the far end. The room was overfilled with people, and everyone seemed to be talking at once. On the table, two speakerphones were hosting different conversations while people clustered around them. Those not clustered around the phones were sitting around the table, or against the wall, in chairs wheeled in from nearby offices for the occasion. Judging by the stains on the carpet, and the marks on ...

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