The McClane Apocalypse Book Ten

by Kate Morris

  Voices in another area, what sounds like the receptionist’s desk instantly sends a shiver of apprehension up his spine. He has to get out of the building, so Simon grabs some of the red files, stuffs them in his pack, closes the cabinet, and flicks off his flashlight. Unfortunately, the voices are drawing nearer. He can’t make his exit the same way he came in, so he rushes to the nearest window that is unobstructed by office furniture and pushes it open. The ledge outside of it is about five inches wide. Not going to work. However, an ancient old black walnut was spared from being cut for the past three hundred or so years, so he uses his upper body strength and is able to climb out onto a thick branch that he prays will hold his weight. Then he carefully pulls down the window again. Should Parker realize the window is no longer locked, he’ll know someone was in his office. Simon shimmies across the branch to the trunk and inches around to the other side where he is reasonably sure he won’t be seen in the dark. His clothing is black and matches the varying shades of gray and black of the old tree’s trunk.

  A light comes on in the hallway, and Simon shies away from it, scooting further around the tree. As he’d worried about, the door to Parker’s office opens a second later and in he walks along with another person, who Simon can’t see as well. It is definitely a woman by her frame and size, but the slant of the hall lighting has left her in shadow. Parker says something to her, opens the drawer on the right-hand side of his desk.

  A screech and a woosh of air hit Simon simultaneously, and he startles and loses his footing. An owl has swooped in to perch on the branch above him, obviously irritated at the sight of Simon. He nearly falls to his most certain death, and in his clumsy state and odd positioning he is left in, almost drops his pack. It hangs askew from his left arm, and a file falls out, crashing through the limbs of the majestic tree and landing on the grass below. The whole debacle takes less than three seconds and makes almost no noise, other than the offending owl. Once he has righted himself, he swiftly turns to see if Parker and his female companion have seen him, but they haven’t. They are engaged in conversation. Simon breathes a sigh of relief.

  Before Simon can even begin his descent for the dropped folder, Parker leads his companion from the room and turns off the light again.

  “Shit!” Simon whispers in a state of panic to himself and his winged partner in crime.

  He has to get to the ground before they do and collect that file. In a rush of tangled tree limbs and ungraceful movements, he scurries down branch by agonizingly slow branch, that red folder glaring up at him like a beacon of scarlet deception. The door to the building slams shut, and Parker strides toward the side of the building with his usual confidence. The woman is gone. Simon is out of time to retrieve that file. Perhaps he won’t see it.

  Simon is still about twenty feet in the air holding his breath as Parker walks closer. He keeps going as if he is on a mission to get somewhere. However, that damn blood-tinged folder catches his eye. Of course, it does. It is literally a red herring thanks to a damn white owl.

  “What the hell?” Parker murmurs with confusion, looking around suspiciously before bending to retrieve it.

  Apparently, he is the only person who uses this color of folder and knows that the secret stash in his office has been compromised. He glances up toward his office window, which causes Simon to panic and back away from his prying eyes even further to the other side of the massive trunk. Without pause, Parker rushes back into the building. Taking cue, Simon scampers down the tree and runs as if he is racing Cory back at the farm for the call to dinner. His friend can move pretty fast when food is involved. Once there, he hides the pack under his bed and takes off his boots, shoving them under with the pack.

  “What’s going on?” Derek asks from his own bed in the same room.

  “Shh, don’t say anything. Trouble,” Simon whispers fiercely and climbs under the covers, pulling them to his chin and rolling so that his back is presented to the door. He forgets his black stocking cap is still on, so he rips it from his head and shoves it under his pillow.

  Like clockwork, within moments, their bedroom door creeks open and someone flashes a light into it.

  Faking the sound of a man awakened from a deep slumber, he hears Derek ask, “What is it? Is something wrong, Parker? Is it the general?”

  “Um…no, sorry. Go back to sleep, Major Harrison,” Parker replies apologetically and leaves, the door clicking more softly closed than it had opened.

  They wait a few minutes before Derek finally asks, “What’s going on, Professor?”

  Simon swings his legs over the side of his bed and digs out the pack as Derek turns on the bedside lamp.

  Simon hands the pack to his friend and crosses the room to lock the door.

  “I think we’ve got a problem,” he finally answers.

  Chapter Four

  Paige

  Listening to her brother the next morning on the radio trying to explain the situation in Fort Knox is making her stomach churn. It sounds like he was in a perilous position last night and almost got caught, although she knows that he is trying hard to leave out as many of those details as possible, knowing full well that she is listening. Paige just wants them to abandon ship and return to the farm, but Derek, who is also on the radio with them, sounds hesitant to do so. He believes there is still much to discover and wishes for them to stay on. Paige hopes he changes his mind, and she can tell by the look on Reagan’s face as she sits behind her grandfather’s desk that she feels the same.

  “So, you think the red files are people in Parker’s inner circle, his trusted friends?” John asks.

  “Yes, sir,” her little brother tells them, his voice sounding so far away, too far away from Paige to keep him safe. “From the few names we actually recognize, we know that they are his friends, the people he surrounds himself with all the time. We can only assume the others are, as well.”

  “Why keep notes on his friends and trusted companions?” John asks.

  “We’re not sure,” Simon replies through their radio.

  “What kind of information is in those files?” Kelly asks.

  There is a long pause before Derek comes on and answers, “The usual stats, the basic stuff they’re keeping in the other files on the people here like blood types, their service record if they have one, and what skills they have that can help the community. Then there’s the odd stuff.”

  John looks at his wife before asking his brother, “What do you mean?”

  “He’s assigned them titles, military ranks they didn’t have listed before. Then he notes when they’ve made a promotion.”

  “Weird,” Reagan comments. “Why give people military promotions now?”

  “No time like the present,” John says with a funny grin, an expression John often gives. “But what gives him the authority to do that?”

  Paige breaks in to put forth an idea, “Because the general told him to?”

  “Maybe,” John says before asking, “What else?”

  Derek answers, “He also has them listed as different cabinet positions, too. Like Secretary of Defense, Vice President, second in command, that sort of thing. Even assigned six men to start a S.W.A.T. team. And four others to be Secret Service.”

  “Setting up a new government with the general?” Reagan asks, looking around at them and settling in on Cory.

  “Not sure. Kinda’ strange,” Cory answers and looks at Paige, who shrugs with the same confusion. “Has General McClane ever mentioned anything like that to anyone?”

  Reagan answers for them since it’s her father, after all, “Not that I know of. He’s mostly just figuring out the base and assigning people to small duties like kitchen staff, educating the children, a strong security force, and medical personnel. He never mentioned forming a cabinet or presidential elections. As a matter of fact, he stated more than once that he was not running from the President so that he could run for President or be the new President here in Tennessee.”

  Sue adds i
n, “I don’t think with his health being what it is that he could even handle that much right now anyway.”

  Cory says, “Well, this sounds like Parker’s figuring it all out for him.”

  “Would he have left Parker in charge of such important decisions?” Paige asks the sisters.

  Reagan pauses before shaking her head, “I don’t think so. I know Parker is a trusted ally and advisor to my father, but this is next level stuff. I would think, actually, that Robert would ask Grandpa’s advice or the guys before he’d ask Parker to handle that much responsibility.”

  “Oh, and the other thing we found was a file on Shorty,” Simon adds through the radio. “We read through his file, and it seemed like Parker wasn’t sure of his loyalty and there were even question marks beside some of his character traits.”

  “Did he have files on all the men who are dead from his crew?” John immediately asks.

  “No, just Shorty. The others weren’t in red files. I didn’t get all of them, either. They could also be listed in the regular files I was telling you about, but I hadn’t found any in my search before I had to…leave the building. I can try to go back in tonight, but we haven’t seen Parker all day. We heard he was in a mood, though. Some of the people have told us he was on a rampage this morning before he left.”

  “Did you guys have anyone follow him?” John inquires.

  “No, he split too quickly, didn’t tell anyone he was leaving,” Derek replies. “We’re already planning on tailing him the second he returns and every second until we leave.”

  Paige breaks in at this to ask, “When will that be?”

  She offers an apologetic half shrug to the others in the room, but Cory touches her hand gently.

  “We’re planning on staying a few extra days since this is happening,” Derek explains. “Doc’s still working with the young doctors here, and Robert’s not doing so hot. With Parker being so suspicious, I’d like to stick around until I know more. Maybe two days, three at the most? How’s it going back there? Any problems?”

  Paige notices that Derek’s first concern is the farm. Strange that her concern isn’t for them at all but for her brother, who is gone from home. They’re all fine. The farm is secure. Her brother could be in danger being so far away.

  Sue steps forward to answer, “We’re fine, honey. Don’t worry. Just like old times, right?”

  She smiles as if sharing a secret with her husband.

  There is a long pause before he answers, “Yeah, too much like old times if you ask me. Kiss the kids for me. I’ll be home as soon as I can, Sue.”

  He speaks with John again for a few more minutes before stating that he has to cut the transmission because people are asking for a meeting with the general. Before Paige can say goodbye to her brother, their conversation is over.

  “Remember I told you when Simon and I cleared the room where the senator was hiding- before he split out of the mansion, of course- that there was a fireplace roaring with big stacks of files and paperwork in it?” Cory asks thoughtfully, to which she nods.

  “What are you getting at?” John asks him.

  “I don’t know. Seems weird. The senator and his highwaymen were keeping files on people, or at least that’s what it looked like in the fireplace now that I think of it. They seemed like personnel type files and a lot of other documents,” he says. “We didn’t have time to stop and fish them back out of the fire, and I even looked for more when we went back and searched what was left of the rubble. No luck.”

  “Underachiever,” John jests with good humor and dimples behind his short, light brown beard he’s recently grown.

  “Yeah, that’s me. Slacker,” Cory agrees with equal lightheartedness.

  “Do you think this could all be connected somehow?” Reagan ponders.

  Cory shrugs and looks at John, who does the same. “I’m not sure, Reagan. Just seems like a strange coincidence that Parker keeps files on people and so did the senator and his ilk.”

  “Should we question our prisoner about this?” she asks next.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” John agrees. “We can see if he knows Parker.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to tell us the truth,” Paige says. “He hasn’t seemed to be honest about anything else so far. I think he’s been playing us.”

  “We know,” John tells her as if he and Cory have already discussed it thoroughly.

  “Can’t hurt to try,” Reagan adds.

  “Why don’t I help?” Paige asks and gets a quick side glance from Cory as if he finds the idea of her questioning their prisoner unappealing. She adds, “I mean, it worked when Sam talked to that kid in town, right?”

  “She’s got a point,” John states as if she is winning him over to her side.

  “This isn’t a kid, John,” Cory says. “This dirtbag is an experienced con-man and murderer of people. He’s not going to be fooled by the change-up in the interrogator.”

  “We can give it a try and see,” John says with finality.

  Reagan comments while tapping the eraser of a pencil against her grandfather’s desk, “Hey, you know what would really work?”

  They all turn to observe her.

  “We should go and get Sam and have her draw a picture of Parker’s face to show the car dealer,” she suggests. “We could gauge his response instantly when he looks at it. Parker is not an easily forgotten face. We’d definitely know if he was lying.”

  “That’s a good idea actually,” John says and places a hand on his hip.

  “I have those every once in a while,” Reagan says with pluck, earning a rubbing to the top of her curly head by her husband. She only smiles up into his face.

  “Wanna’ fetch our little sister from Dave’s place?” John asks Cory.

  “Yes, sir,” he immediately answers, making Paige instantly nervous knowing he’s going to leave the farm. “Want me to leave now?”

  “Wait. That’s not a good idea, leaving us short on the farm in case of an attack. It’ll take you most of the day to go and get Sam. So, let’s hold off on that. Derek can pick her up on the way home. Let’s not mention Parker just yet. Let’s push on Angelica again today,” John says. “If Parker is somehow tied into this, I want to know. But I also want this woman that’s been feeding the highwaymen tips on our moves. We’ll let Derek and Simon dig around up there some more and report in if they find anything. Let’s go question the car dealer again.”

  “Nothing like a wee bit o’ waterboarding in the morning to lift the spirits,” Cory jests, earning a frown from her. He only smiles that boyish, bright smile of his and pulls her into his side to press a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Don’t worry, Paige,” John says. “We’ll wait till after lunch to start the waterboarding.”

  “Great,” she says with irony.

  She follows them to the barn a short while later and notices the man’s eyes immediately jump to her. The way he looks at her, though, makes Paige uneasy. It isn’t a stare of desire or lust. He glances away just as quickly to hide his surprise. It is almost as if he recognizes her. She does not share that sentiment, however.

  They lay down the law on the man, threatening to torture him in many different and clearly explained ways, and then Cory and John leave her with him. She knows her new husband is only going to the other side of the wooden door separating the outside world from the man’s prison cell.

  “Sir, we need your help,” she says, trying a different approach. It catches his attention because he meets her eyes again. Paige hands him his plate of food, the ration seeming meager at best. “A lot more innocent people, women and children, are going to get hurt or killed if you don’t help us. I don’t want to see that happen.”

  He lifts his chin in an almost smug manner that makes her long to slap him.

  “My husband and I are…”

  “Husband?” he interrupts.

  “Yes, my husband, Cory. He was just in here and…”

  He sneers. “I know
that one. He’s the one I call the enforcer. At least I now have a name to attach to his hideous face.”

  The fact that he insinuates that Cory is ugly is not what disturbs Paige. It’s that he calls him the ‘enforcer.’ She can only imagine what he means by that. She knows a very different, very tender side of him. She also knows that this man has never seen that side by the name he has assigned him.

  “Yes, well, he and I…”

  “Married, you say?” he asks sardonically, surprising Paige. “That’s rich.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Even the best-laid plans, I suppose.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t follow. What do you mean?”

  His lower lip is split, and blood has dried on his chin. His right eyebrow is swollen and bruised. She knows how these deformities have come to be on this man. Paige tries not to focus on that. She is here to help put an end to all this violence.

  “Plans, girl,” he states as if angry and disgusted and probably very frustrated at his bleak situation. “We all make plans. Everyone makes plans. It’s what makes us human. I had plans.”

  “Why don’t you tell me some of them?”

  “President had plans,” he says, ignoring her and sopping up the leftover gravy on his plate with a piece of plain bread. “Everyone makes plans, but not everyone gets to see them through.”

  “What were your plans, sir?”

  He sniffs hard as if offended, “Plans so big they’d make your head spin.”

  “Tell me then so that I can understand, because, frankly, I don’t understand any of this. The violence. The murdering of innocent people. The theft.”