I Will Not Yield

by William Hogan

  Kim bent down and gave Lokai a big hug. “Don’t worry that big mean man is harmless.”

  Lokai moist sandpaper tongue scraped her face.

  Mike shifted his head toward Kim. “You forget someone?”

  Kim raced to the table and blew out the candles. After the candles had been extinguished, she sashays to Mike and softly kisses him on the lips. “Nope, I could never forget you, knucklehead.” She rapped him on the head with her knuckles.

  “Ouch!”

  Charlie said, “You mean hard head and mushy brain, don’t you?”

  Mike swept his hand toward the food. “I’m hungry, let’s eat.”

  The pizza disappeared.

  Eddie was not the neatest eater. Kim sealed her lips against complaint in the spirit of the party.

  “That hit the spot.” She rubbed her chin Godfather style, “Sooner or later I’m gonna want a favor.”

  Mike said. “A favor? I hope you left room for cake, red velvet with raspberry cream cheese icing. Get this, it's stuffed with a tangy raspberry filling.” He changed his pitch, volume, and tone. “It’s awesome man.”

  Kim stuck out her belly and patted it. “Now you tell me. I didn’t leave the room.”

  Eddie jumped up and down. “It’ll wait. Let’s open presents.”

  “Good idea. Kim, everyone got their hands dirty picking these out. If you don’t like them, blame them. If you like them, give me all the credit. Wish us luck guys.”

  Eddie said. “Fingers crossed. I’m Pisces, I’m not superstitious.”

  Everyone chuckled.

  Mike handed Kim the first present, a one and one-half foot square box.

  Kim’s hands tremble on the way to the box. She was taken by surprise at how light it felt, she shook it, and put it next to her ear. “I have no idea what you guys dreamt up, but I guess I better find out.”

  She lowered the box and peeled the wrapping paper asunder. With the present open, she raised a foam head. A wig adorned the top of the head.

  She appraised the style. It was identical to what she wore. The huge gap in her hairline would be concealed if worn. A tear broke free and streaked her cheek. She faced her guests. They were statues.

  Mike spoke. “We’re sorry. We thought this would make attending the State of the Union more comfortable for you. We’ll take it back immediately. Give it to me.” He tried to grab the box.

  She slapped his arm. “That wasn’t a sad tear, dunderhead. It’s the most touching and thoughtful gift I have ever received.” She pointed at her face. “Read my lips, you big blooming idiots, I couldn’t love you all any more than right now.”

  She started on another gift, an elegant evening dress, and jacket. The jacket modified to accommodate her shoulder injury, had an ingenious sling built in. She turned to Mike, one eyebrow raised.

  Mike smiled. “Remember when Charlie volunteered to take your clothes to the cleaners? It seems he was distracted and stopped by the dress shop. It should fit perfectly.”

  She started the grab the last present, and stopped, then started again. It was the size of a shoe box. She sneered at everyone. “You guys are devious sons-a-bitches.”

  She lifted the lid. Under the lid was a pair of exquisite evening shoes. A felt box was lodged in the left one. She was overwhelmed to see a diamond necklace and matching earrings. Her heart pounded in her chest. She inhaled deeply. Not expensive, but not cheap. Perfect.

  The faucet turned on. Mike handed her a paper towel.

  The men, for their part, were beaming. They seemed impressed with the miracle of doing something good.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She licked the salty tears as they fell in her mouth.

  Kasai put her hands on her hips. “Why are you guys standing around with shit-eating grins? It’s about time you did something right.”

  Natalya straddled the President’s Assistant Chief of Staff. Her rhythm sexual. Blood dripped down her chin, and a piece of his ear was stuck between her teeth. She lifted his earlobe. It made a sucking sound as it pulled away. She saw light where his ear once belonged.

  He screamed.

  The primal nature of the scream sent a shiver through her body. “Be a good boy. We’re almost done. Soon your troubles will be over.”

  She turned to Erik, who was busy typing a suicide email. “Toropit’sya. Hurry, finish up.”

  “Sending now.”

  She got off his lap and sliced the tie strap behind the assistant chief’s back. With one hand, she brought her knife to his throat. “Don’t move. We’re going to play a game.” She turned to Erik. “A little help here.”

  Erik put a gun in the man’s hand and forced it to the assistant’s head. Erik’s finger had company on the trigger, he was in control.

  “No. Ear level. I want to hide my nibble.” She stepped away right before Eric compressed the trigger.

  They cleaned any trace of them being there.

  Natalya dialed Sokol. “We’ve learned what we needed. The Designated Survivor for the State of the Union Address is The Secretary of Transportation. Secret Service is taking him to a cabin in Whitetop, Virginia. We’ll scout the area tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Mis-State Of The Union

  In the center of the aisle, President Johnstone strutted confidently on his way to the podium. He carried with him the pressure of the unrelenting scrutiny from both sides of the political spectrum. The burden was heavy. Damn if I’ll let them know it.

  The frigid, snow-covered landscape outside felt warm compared to the chilled reception inside the chamber. He was aware that the terrorist attacks in Chicago, and the attempt in New York had left him politically wounded. A lot of members of Congress thought his presidency a ruse, thanks to the Russian hacks. He smiled at the mental gymnastics his enemies must be performing. If they helped him? Why did they hurt him?

  He planned to start the healing tonight.

  He paid off some of the allies to provide a show of support. They clustered along the path of the aisle and pumped his hand for the cameras. He called in a lot of favors.

  Johnstone stopped and turned to see Mike, Kim and the First Lady seated in her guest box overlooking the House floor. He waved toward the first lady. He strode to the podium. “Speaker, Mr. Vice President, Members of Congress, and honored guests, and my fellow Americans: Tonight, I have the honor of reporting on the State of the Union. Let me begin by saying that tonight you will hear many controversial things. I make no apology for them.”

  His gaze swept the chamber. “Today, I must ask that Americans band together to face the most sinister enemy mankind has known in its long climb from the caves to the moon. One that no longer wages war on a battlefront, but seeks to terrorize. From both sides of the aisle, every American must accept the challenges ahead. We were constantly reminded by the media that we must choose between a left or right, liberal or conservative, but I suggest there is no such thing, that today there is us, united as one, the people of America standing strong with one cohesive voice.”

  His voice grew louder and his brows furrowed. “The threats, inside our border and on the borders of our friends, challenge freedom itself and must not stand. Together we are stronger.”

  The whole of Congress erupted in polite applause.

  Kim, who was wearing her new outfit and wig, could absolutely, positively not look better in Mike’s eyes. She’s perfect.

  She turned toward him. “Honey, this guy is putting on one heck of a show.”

  Mike realized the President absorbing energy from the applause, growing stronger, more confident as his unifying speech went on. “I don’t even really like the guy, but he is electric tonight.”

  She showed her hand. “I’m still a bit nervous, look at my handshake.”

  Mike reached and gently squeezed her hand to steady it. He turned back to the President.

  “If history teaches anything, it tells us that only fools are afraid to face the truth. What, you ask, is our current course of act
ion?” He looked at the members of Congress, paused, and slowly lowered his head. “Must we, as a nation, allow our innocent women and children to perish in a hail of fiery bombs?” He slammed his fist against the podium. “To this America must say no!”

  Again the chamber erupted. The President waited for the sound to die. “Will we allow freedom to wither in a quiet, deadening accommodation of evil? To this, America must say no! Will we respond? To this America must say yes!”

  Mike’s bladder applied pressure. Damn, I should’ve stopped at the airport. He let go of Kim’s hand. She looked him in the eyes. “Nature calls, I’ll be right back.” He raced from the chamber and hunted for a bathroom.

  A man’s deep voice rang out. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Sokol confided. “It’s not your fault your captain assigned you as my partner, but you’re a distraction I don’t need.”

  “What?”

  “To strive, to seek, to find and not to yield.”

  A loud crack echoed throughout the room. The man crumpled to the ground with a broken neck.

  Sokol picked the lock of the cleaning closet. He grabbed the man under each armpit and dumped him next to the mop bucket, mops, and brooms. He re-locked the closet.

  With the dirty deed hidden he went to the sink and vigorously washed his hands. Time to get this party started.

  Near the entrance to the bathroom, someone sprung out and brushed against Mike. The door silently closed.

  Mike reached for the handle to enter and stopped. That can’t be? The man who bumped into had silver hair, but was the same size and build as Sokol. He tried to remember if he saw the face. The memory was cloudy. All thoughts of taking a piss disappeared. I’m not sure it's him. I have to find out before causing an incident.

  Mike rushed through the hallway toward the same exit the man used. A large hand clamped on his shoulder and spun him around.

  Mike raised his fist, ready to shatter a jaw when he eyeballed a square jaw, suit, and earpiece. No doubt, secret service. “Look.” Mike flashed his presidential guest pass. “My girlfriend and I are the president’s personal guests. We’re sitting with his wife, and Kim’s forgotten her medicine.” He looked for signs of Sokol. He came up empty. “If I don’t get it, the American viewing public might see an unpleasant sight.”

  “Wait one minute while I contact--”

  Mike’s voice quickened. “I don’t have a minute. The President will call my name soon. I need to get the medicine, fast.” He held his hands together in a begging position. “Please, just clear my way so I can get to my limo and back in time.”

  “Let me see that pass again.” His face was stern. “Shit. Go. I’ll clear the way.” He spoke into his comm.

  CHAPTER 38

  I Will Not Yield!

  The cold smacked Mike in the face. His breath condensed into a cloud of vapor. The wind blew west, and the odor of decaying leaves and the earthiness of the park in winter brushed across his nose. He crinkled his nose and walked ran the steps to the VIP parking area designated for the State of the Union address. Two rows of limos were parked in front of the steps.

  He got his bearings and searched the area. Teams of security were guarding the yellow rope line in front of the capital. Groups of protestors were shouting and carrying signs. Mike could hear the chant, “Hell no! Johnstone must go! Hell No! Johnstone…”

  He searched the north side VIP parking for the man he thought was Sokol. He located him as he shut the hood on a black sedan.

  Sokol race toward the driver seat. He turned before entering the car. Their eyes met.

  The glare of Sokol’s hatred glowed. The car door slam shut and triggered Mike to action. The car’s tires spun in the snow. Shit!

  Mike ran down the stairs, waving his hands. He made it to the parking area before a patrol car zoomed in.

  The patrol car stopped, and an enormous police officer exited. “What’s all the commotion son?”

  Mike pointed. His words raced from his mouth. “That’s the man everyone is hunting.” He pointed toward the sedan.

  “Now don’t be getting your undies in a bunch, boy.”

  Mike whispered to himself. “Why do I always have trouble talking to authority?” He spoke louder, for the officer to hear. “Listen to me, please. That man is one of the terrorists, arrest him.”

  The cop looked to where Mike pointed. “What are you talking about? Haven’t you heard the news? All the terrorists are in jail or dead. We got em.”

  Why did I sign that damn secrecy agreement? The official story was that all terrorists were caught and no longer a threat. America is safe again. Damn!

  Mike grabbed his Presidential Visitor Badge and stuck it in the officer’s face. He deepened his voice. “Officer, I’m a guest of the President. I don’t have time for this.”

  Mike watched Sokol’s car as it crept toward the exit.

  “Look, that pass only means I’d have to think half a second more before cuffing you. Don’t you worry about that car. If that man is who you say he is, security at the checkpoint will take care of it.”

  Mike shuffled toward the officer. Once he got within arm’s distance, Mike executed a perfect right cross to the top of the police officer’s head. Pain shot from his fist through his arm. I hope I didn’t hit him too hard.

  The officer collapsed.

  At the security checkpoint, Sokol pulled alongside the guard shack. He lowered his window and flipped open a bi-fold wallet for the guard to inspect his credentials. “I understand checking people entering the parking lot, but leaving?”

  The Security officer bent down to view Sokol’s identification. “Since we’re right next to the Capitol building and the President’s speaking tonight, we’re checking everyone coming and going. Standard procedure.” He pointed toward the rope line. “Besides the protesters are going insane over there.”

  Sokol drummed his car door with his fingers. “Can you hurry? I have a sweet little thing burning-hot under the collar and want to make her sweltering hot somewhere else, know what I mean?”

  The security guard smiled and winked. “Something to keep you warm on a cold night? Wanna trade places? I’m stuck here until the end of this boring-ass speech.”

  “Not in this lifetime, buddy.”

  “That hurts. They’re quick at giving clearance; you’ll have her warmed in no time. Let me radio this in.”

  Mike watched Sokol pull away. He bent down and grabbed the cop under the arms, and dragged him between two limos. “Not that you can hear, but I’ll radio for help once I’m outside the gate.”

  He removed the officer’s shoulder-mounted radio, jumped into the running police car, and turned on the siren without any sound. He went on a couple of rides in patrol cars after saving New York and knew what buttons to push. Thank God for the ride along.

  The exit neared. He beeped his siren horn two times.

  The officer at the gate stepped into the middle of the road. The red and blue lights bounced off him. He put his hand to his eyes.

  Mike beeped his siren one more time.

  The guard opened the gate and waved Mike through.

  Past the security gate, Mike flipped the siren lights off. He left the northeast parking lot and turned right on Constitution AVE NE.

  He raised the radio to his mouth and pressed the transmit button. “Officer down, Capitol building. I repeat office down, Capitol building Northeast Parking Lot.”

  The dispatcher’s voice sounded tinny. “Who is this?”

  Mike turned off the radio and threw the mic on the passenger seat. He looked, but no car was in sight. His adrenaline rush reduced to a trickle. He had lost Sokol.

  He slowed the car to a stop. Was about to make a right on 2nd Street, he needed to surrender to authorities. When he turned his to check for traffic, a set of brake lights flashed, then disappeared; no taillights or headlights were visible. More lights flashed farther away.

  The street was closed to regular traffic. Mike’s blood pres
sure spiked. “That’s him!”

  He pressed the gas pedal and turned in pursuit. Burnt rubber smoke invaded the car’s cabin. He turned the headlights off.

  A few blocks up Maryland Avenue, Mike spotted the black sedan parked next to the base of the Nathanael Greene statue. The statue’s surrounding lamps dimly lit the park. Mike squinted his eyes to get a closer look.

  Thick cables lead from the statue’s base to the sedan’s trunk. A scattered beam of light from the trunk hit Sokol as he bent with a cable gripped in both hands.

  Mike pulled over to a nearby curb. He opened the door with care and squeezed through the gap. No sound. Be the wind.

  He ducked and raced to the first tree in a row of leafless cherry trees that lead to the center of the park. The snow was an inch thick. A patchwork of black ice covered the ground where trees blocked the snowfall. He kicked his shoes against the tree trunk to jolt off the snow.

  He advanced toward the center of the park. The darkness and the wooden barrier of the trees were Mike’s friend. He headed for the last tree and nearly tripped. He extracted the stake from the ground. The point of the stake scratched his leg when he put it in his boot. He reached his destination and paused. His target was busy at the back of the car. Mike closed the distance between himself and Sokol.

  He slid to a stop on the uncertain ground when Sokol turned toward him.

  Sokol reached inside of his coat and flashed a gun.

  Mike reacted on instinct, he lashed with a lighting quick Crescent kick, the pistol in Sokol’s hand spun away.

  Sokol looked at his hand. A smile worked its way across his face.

  Mike said, “You don’t stand a chance. Give it up.”

  Sokol’s smile remained. “If you don’t already know, my name is Sokol, not Townsend. At least, that is what both my friends and enemies call me.” He held his empty palms toward Mike. “Thank you for eliminating the pistol from our little fray. Killing you with my bare hands will enhance the experience significantly.”