The Sealing

by Patrick Higgins

  “And?”

  “A few minutes later, everyone left except him.”

  “Perhaps Ashford had another meeting. He is the President now, Anthony, and we are under attack.”

  “I’m telling you, Dan, I waited six hours surveilling the door leading to the Sit-Room. The President never left that room; not alive, anyway.

  “And no one saw him in the White House all day. Even more troubling is that Lois Cipriano was seen in the Oval Office earlier. It’s like she’s already preparing to take over.”

  “What are you thinking?” Sullivan was piecing things together in his mind, but he wanted to hear more from Galiano.

  “Think about it, Bannister dies and Cipriano, a staunch globalist and Romanero ally, is quickly voted in as the new Speaker of the House. Coincidence? I think not!” Galiano whispered with the force of a shout. “Something stinks to high Heaven!”

  “What are you getting at, Anthony?”

  “I think they preemptively killed Bannister then waited for more things to unfold. Their big break came when POTUS delayed in choosing a new Veep. Big mistake. The timing couldn’t be more perfect for them.

  “With Ashford out of the way and Cipriano acting as Romanero’s newest puppet, they control the government and the country. With the connections she has, if she announces her candidacy, which you and I both know she will, she’ll be a shoo in to win in November. Bye-bye America as we know it.”

  “Yeah, that’s what my gut’s telling me too.”

  Galiano shook his head in disbelief, “Can you say, ‘coup d’etat’?”

  “Do you think they think Danforth’s still alive?”

  “I’m starting to…”

  Sullivan rubbed his throbbing forehead, “This is a big deal. I gotta go. Time to inform Danforth. He won’t be shocked though. I think he sort of expects it. He’s always feared Romanero knew he was still alive…”

  “What should I do now?” At their last meeting at Camp David before Air Force One went down, it was agreed by everyone there that Special Agent Galiano—a fellow Christ follower—would distance himself from the Danforth administration so he could remain in the loop and provide valuable intel to his former boss, for as long as humanly possible.

  Daniel Sullivan, on the other hand, didn’t have that option. Everyone knew how close he was to Danforth. “Keep monitoring things as best they’ll allow you to, until contingency plans are made. And always watch your back.”

  “Pray for me, brother.”

  “Likewise, Anthony.”

  At that, the two secret service agents parted ways…

  11

  JEFFERSON DANFORTH WAS AWAKENED from a deep sleep. He squinted and looked up at the man who seemed to be the constant bearer of bad news, “What is it, Sullivan?”

  “Sorry to have to tell you this, Sir, but there’s reason to believe President Ashford’s dead.”

  Danforth bolted up in his bed. His eyes grew wide with shock, “What?! How?”

  “Agent Galiano told me when Ashford went to change the nuclear codes, only the military commander and two secret service agents reemerged from the Situation Room. Ashford never left. And he hasn’t been seen in the White House by anyone since taking the oath.”

  Jefferson Danforth blinked hard, “Come again?!”

  “There’s more, sir. Lois Cipriano was seen in the Oval Office.”

  Danforth panicked, “Are you certain about this?”

  Agent Sullivan closed his eyes, “That’s what Galiano told me, sir.”

  “Do they know I’m still alive?”

  “Hard to say. In time, we’ll know.”

  Danforth rubbed his fingers through his hair, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Cipriano has thousands of her government goons looking for ways to uncover our secret files this very instant. You know how much she hates me.”

  “Think she’ll find something?”

  “It’s been three weeks since I last stepped foot in the White House. In politics, that’s a lifetime ago. All I know is Everett had all that time to delete all links to the counter shadow government we formed before he was sworn in. If Cipriano finds a way to break the passwords or uncovers something that was overlooked, it would mean grave danger for ETSM Christians in hiding.”

  Danforth’s heart was filled with fear. “I need to get out of here ASAP. It’s just a matter of time before this location’s compromised.”

  “My thoughts exactly, sir! Where would you like to go?”

  “Anyplace but Colorado! I never want to step foot in that state again!”

  “How about the underground location I told you about in Coeur d’Alene Idaho? It has all the high-tech gizmos this place has.”

  “Fine. Just get me out of here…”

  “I’ll need a day or two to make the proper arrangements and secure a private flight for you. Until then, perhaps you should all relocate to the ETSM cabin in Tennessee. Casanieves and Messersmith should go with you. Once you’re gone, this place’ll be scrubbed from top to bottom. No one will ever know you were here.”

  Jefferson’s body quaked too severely to think straight.

  Seeing he was a million miles away, Sullivan said, “Get dressed, sir. I’ll wake the others.”

  An hour later, after making a few inquiries, Sullivan said to his former boss, “It can be ready in two days.”

  “Good work, Sullivan,” Danforth said, softly.

  They packed their things and left just after midnight. Danforth drove in the back seat of the 15-passenger van owned by the ETSM. It was his first time driving in a non-government issued vehicle in nearly four years.

  They frequently changed radio stations, hoping to hear something about President Ashford, anything. One newscaster said the President had a bad case of the flu. Other than that, they heard nothing else. No press conferences, no soundbites—nothing! The silence was deafening.

  Galiano was right; something was wrong.

  They drove straight through the night, and arrived at the cabin before 8 a.m. As expected, power was out. Unlike safe house number one, the cabin was equipped with solar and back-up power. The massive generator was turned on powering all rooms, and a fire was lit.

  For Holmes and Hartings, it was strange not having Miss Evelyn greet them at the front door. She was living in a safehouse on the Georgia-Tennessee border.

  Over morning coffee, Danforth said to the ETSM leaders, “When Everett went back to the White House in my stead, the day the plane went down, aside from deleting all electronic files stored on secret servers, I ordered many warehouses full of the supplies you’ll need to be earmarked for your organization...”

  “With the population cut nearly by two-thirds, a medical equipment surplus has been created. While much of it is secondhand equipment, you’ll find one warehouse full of it, to include various medications.”

  Hartings said, “May we share it with members in other countries?”

  “Do what you want with it.” Jefferson Danforth grimaced, “If you can get to it…”

  Braxton Rice nodded his head. It wouldn’t be easy.

  Danforth said, “I also ordered another five-hundred tunnel boring and robotic bricklaying machines, and all other large equipment to be set aside for your sole use.”

  “We’re grateful, Sir.”

  “If you recall our meeting at the White House, I told you I ordered a quadrupling of underground shelters through this invisible government.”

  Holmes and Hartings both nodded yes.

  “Only half were put on the books, so to speak. Consider them yours. Isolation and purification are first steps to underground bunker life. All have proper sewage, industrial grade air filtration systems which they say protects from chemical warfare, pandemics, even asteroids, and water filtration and ventilation units in place.

  “After Romanero sent the quakes, I had geoscientists check for weak points in the design. The air filtration units were put to the test and all had passed. The biggest concern I have is when they are compl
etely full of people, how long can we keep everyone breathing clean air? I’m told they can fit ten times as many people as they can provide clean air for…”

  Hartings said, “Guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there…”

  “It’s the least I can do. We must do our best to protect the many children you’ll have living on your properties. In this constantly shrinking population, there are many places to hide. Even so, thanks to certain recon technology, which allows for seeing structures underground, it will be impossible for anyone to vanish completely.

  “The only good news is that a high percentage of unbelievers are also moving underground. The wealthy are purchasing luxury condominiums in record numbers, mostly out in the country. Most have the same luxuries they’d grown accustomed to aboveground—exercise rooms, swimming pools, movie theaters, full libraries and even spas. Their shelters put most ETSM locations to shame.

  “You’d be surprised how many subterranean communities were already in existence before the Rapture, especially in our larger cities. In some cases, tunnels go on for miles.

  “All our locations have been stocked with enough MRE’s to feed 500 people two times a day for three years. And there’s plenty of bottled water at each location for now. One drawback is that you won’t be able to receive deliveries from your farm connections. You’ll have to find secure meeting places for that.”

  President Danforth eyeballed his brothers in Christ, “All I ask in return is that you let me be part of your organization.”

  Clayton Holmes said, “That goes without saying, Sir. As far as we’re concerned, you’re already one of us. If not for you, we’d have no shot at survival.”

  “Amy Wong also wishes to become a member. I seriously doubt the new administration will want to keep her on as White House Head Chef.”

  Holmes and Hartings looked at Braxton Rice.

  Rice shrugged his shoulders, “Already had dreams and been cleared.”

  “Sullivan’s already helping her cut ties to her life, so she can join the organization as soon as possible.” Danforth had a faraway expression on his face. “Instead of protecting you, you have to protect me…”

  Hartings took a sip of coffee, “We’ll do our best, sir…”

  Jefferson sighed, “If word ever gets out that I’m still alive, they’ll start a scorched-earth campaign looking for me. I believe they already have their suspicions.”

  Holmes said, “After everything you’ve done or us, Sir, you’re worth taking that risk.”

  It had been a year full of personal assault and tragedy. The way Holmes said it nearly brought Jefferson Danforth to tears.

  12

  THE NEXT DAY

  MEANWHILE, IN CHENNAI, INDIA residents lined the streets hoping to catch a glimpse and perhaps take a few snapshot photographs of baby Salvadora, as the Patels were driven by limousine from the hospital where Hana recently gave birth, to their new residence less than three kilometers away.

  The line of well-wishers started at the hospital and stretched all the way to the Patels’ home. Many, using cellphones, streamed live on social media for their friends and followers to see.

  Others held signs. One proudly read: India warmly welcomes the world’s First Child! Another declared: Welcome to the planet! Another one read: Welcome home, baby Salvadora! Some wore t-shirts with the newborn’s face on it.

  But it wasn’t just Salvadora Patel being cheered on this day. As an added precaution, even though most newborn children entered the world in hospitals situated several time zones away from the recent mayhem in the Western Hemisphere, and the air had long since been deemed safe, Romanero took no chances.

  He ordered all new mothers to remain locked down in hospital suites all this time. For the minor inconvenience, the Miracle Maker made sure all new moms were pampered beyond their wildest dreams.

  The discharge date was originally set for a week from now. But as America wrestled with trying to rise from the ashes of destruction, to keep the spotlight off what was happening behind the scenes in the U.S., the date was moved up. What better distraction was there than children going home for the very first time?

  In a grief-weary world, this was a much bigger story!

  But due to the power outages, American moms remained in hospitals where they had everything they needed, including backup power. Many, fearing for their safety and the safety of their newborn children, begged Romanero in TV interviews to relocate them to safer countries, along with their adolescent and teenage kids also left behind last November.

  The Miracle Maker promised to accommodate their wishes after the Day of New Beginnings holiday, which was fast approaching.

  While all new mothers received similar receptions, as it was, hundreds of thousands of moms and newborns were being discharged from hospitals this day under heavy guard—including tens of thousands in India—the fact that Hana Patel was the first to give birth pushed her popularity higher than all other moms.

  The second woman to give birth, Paula Gomes from Brazil, received half as many cards and gifts as Hana Patel. From there, the drop off was significant. Still, even those who weren’t contest winners, having been given free healthcare and a lifetime supply of diapers and baby clothing, no one complained.

  Every news station on the planet aired the massive gathering of crowds in towns, cities and villages dotting the global landscape. More than a billion people crowded sidewalks cheering and welcoming children back to their neighborhoods.

  It was a glorious sight to behold, even despite the chaos filling every nook and cranny of Planet Earth.

  To the dismay of so many, aside from family members and friends, no one got to see baby Salvadora, or any other newborns for that matter; all were well hidden in their vehicles protected by armed guards.

  Even so, most were just happy to show support for something good again, shaky nerves and all. Being there filled them with pride and reinstated their hope for a bright future, as Romanero kept promising.

  Yogesh and Hana Patel stared outside the limo window in utter disbelief. He sighed, “All of this just for us…”

  Hana smiled at her husband, then craned her neck to look out the back window. Having been in the hospital all this time, all pain suffered from giving birth was gone. And her already slim body had constricted to where it was difficult believing she recently gave birth.

  Hana was 26. At 5’9” she was three inches taller than her husband, and quite shapely. Yogesh was 28. He had a plump round face and a growing belly, which increased by a pant size since going from rags to riches. Now that he had the means to eat whatever food he wanted he took full advantage of it.

  Driving behind their limousine, a 20-foot diesel truck hauled a 16’ by 8’ by 8’ moving pod (Portable On Demand storage unit), capable of fitting four rooms full of furniture.

  But in this case, it was full of cards and gifts the Patels had received the past six weeks from many around the world, including more than a million congratulatory cards from those who couldn’t afford to include gifts of any kind.

  There were also enough surplus diapers and children’s clothing donated from various diaper and clothing stores for Hana to open a small store if she chose to. Baby Salvadora would be potty trained long before they put a dent in the pile. They could always be donated later.

  A security detail, consisting of three police motorcycles in front of the limousine and three more behind the truck, escorted the most famous child on the planet to her new home.

  The property was cordoned off to the public with ropes and armed guards. Only friends, family, and invited guests would be allowed to enter the Patel house, to include some of India’s most influential individuals.

  The news chopper that had followed the Patels all the way from the hospital hovered above their new fully-furnished residence, providing aerial shots for millions of viewers at home, as the couple entered their new house—a residence Hana had yet to step foot inside—with precious Salvadora for the very first time
as a family.

  The way her new house staff greeted her and stared at her made Hana feel like royalty. Talk about being at the right place at the right time!

  Their new home offered an elevated, sprawling view of the Bay of Bengal in the distance, but without the many unpleasant smells and clutter they’d known all their lives, from peasants working day and night selling the fish Yogesh used to catch and many other goods just to survive.

  In her wildest dreams, Hana never thought she’d get to see this view from a residential standpoint. It was a view baby Salvadora would quickly grow accustomed to.

  Thanks to the Miracle Maker, and millions of others around the globe, their child would never suffer the stark poverty her parents had battled all their lives until now.

  Before going inside, Yogesh glanced up at the chopper one last time. If he needed more conformation that family privacy was a thing of the past, and that life would never be the same for them, he now had it.

  In this groundswell of public attention, adoration and constant media coverage, the Patels could no longer walk the streets in complete obscurity. They had to prepare for the onslaught of gawkers and selfie seekers whenever out in public.

  All his life, Yogesh’s constant worry was centered on providing for his family. Suddenly financially free and retired from the fishing business, he sensed his new full-time job would be shielding his daughter from an overzealous public.

  Would someone try kidnaping baby Salvadora someday? It couldn’t be ruled out. He sighed. It was enough to make his head spin.

  A few short months ago, none of this would have seemed thinkable. A police escort, just for them? Seriously? Now it was a reality. The sudden transformation from poor unknown peasants to one of the most-famous couples on the planet wouldn’t be an easy adjustment to make.

  At least not for Yogesh…

  Prior to Hana giving birth, their lives were as basic and simple as basic and simple could be. The Patels lived in a ragged old shack on the Bay of Bengal, with no front door, sporadic water and electricity. There was no cable TV, internet or Wi-Fi. This type of meager existence was all they knew.