“As devastating as this attack has been, the second groundbreaking will take place in three hours. We have discussed our options and unanimously agree that our goal of achieving an end to the violence we have just witnessed cannot be delayed. Our resolve remains strong.”
Fritz jumped when Linda said, “Is he crazy?”
“I didn't hear you come down.”
The president answered the unasked question. “We pray for our fallen protectors and for the British prime minister, who was an important voice in driving us toward peace. We share the grief of the United Kingdom.”
Fritz changed channels again. A report from Palestine showed video of trenches being dug and workers preparing the pipelines. The report said that in spite of the attacks, fifty miles of trenches were expected by the end of the day.
“I am sorry, Lin. Who could have guessed a groundbreaking would go so badly.”
“You should be. I'm sorry too, Fritz, for Ashley and Jane. I hope they'll be okay. This isn't going to be easy.”
Linda's phone woke them two hours after the groundbreaking. Her father asked if it was Fritz he had seen on the news. She asked if she could call back in a few minutes.
“It was a long night, Dad.”
“Wait. Was it Fritz?”
“Yes.” She disconnected.
Sitting up on the side of the bed, Fritz rubbed his eyes and stretched. Turning to the clock on Linda's dresser, he said, “We missed the groundbreaking. It's almost seven o'clock. What did he want?”
“Saw you on TV. Wanted to know if it was you.”
“I'll make the coffee and turn on the TV,” he said.
“He's going to call back if I don't call him.”
“So call him. I need to see the news.”
When he reached the kitchen, the aroma told him that all he needed was a cup.
“Morning, Mary. Need more?” She shook her head. He tipped the pot, steam curled, and he said, “I'm going to the family room.”
The TV showed the most recent film of the second groundbreaking. A visible international military presence successfully assured an undisrupted ceremony. The president had asked all television, worldwide, to discontinue airing the footage until it could be studied. He had requested all content carriers to do the same. The NSA was closely monitoring transmissions. A televised speech had been scheduled for the next night.
Fritz got a second cup, returned to the TV, and passed the stairs where Linda had her phone to her ear. “They'll be here tomorrow.”
Fritz shrugged. He yawned as he asked, “What time is the plane?”
“He's driving. He doesn't want to go through the airport business again.”
FRITZ'S DAY OFF crawled by. He spent it mostly hoping to hear about Ashley and Jane and waiting for a call from the president. He helped Linda get ready for her parents, and he vacuumed the house, though he was never far from a TV. By mid-afternoon, he returned to his desk to prepare for the next day's classes.
George called at 3:45. “Fritz, have you heard anything? It's been a madhouse here today. I've been asked all day if I'd seen you and Ashley on TV because you weren't here today. I told them I'd spoken to you earlier, and that you were taking a day off to prepare for Linda's graduation. Will you be here tomorrow?”
“I'll be in. That was quick thinking, George. I haven't heard from the president or anyone else. I think you can expect Ashley to be gone for a while.”
Around five o'clock, just when the early news shows were starting, the front doorbell rang. Fritz backed out of the family room, looking for a breaking news banner. As the door opened, Jim Shaw faced him.
“Hi, Mr. R. Mary told me the story. Are you doing okay?”
Linda came to the door when she heard voices, offered Jim a soda, and asked him to stay for dinner. Fritz really wanted quiet, not more company. When the food was ready, he went to pick it up, driving slowly. Images of Ashley and Jane flashed more than once. He heard Ashley's voice say, “Hey buddy, pay attention.” He parked at a busy time and almost lost his door when he pushed it open.
With the dinner order on the passenger's seat, he stared through the windshield, immobile. Pent-up emotion flowed off his cheeks. Tell-tale spatters sank into his shirt. Linda's right. I have changed. I'm a teacher, not a soldier. So is Ash. What are we doing? He heard Ash's voice again. “Get it together, Fritz.”
Dinner conversation revolved around Linda's graduation. Linda described what she was envisioning for a local bike shop and her idea of a national brand. She even mentioned that she was considering manufacturing her own custom line. When Fritz's phone buzzed, all heads turned.
“Yes, Mr. President?” he answered. Fritz usually enjoyed hearing that voice, but things were suddenly not the same.
“Hi Fritz. Sorry I haven't called sooner. Jane just left surgery. They've done two operations. She's in bad shape.”
“What about Ash?”
“Too soon to tell. He was in surgery for eight hours. He was hit four times, Fritz. Some serious internal damage. We were lucky the Israelis showed up. Their medics saved them.”
“What about the rest? Colonel Mitchell?”
“The colonel will be okay, but we lost six guys. I don't think the sniper was a good shot, or he wasn't trying to kill them. Fritz, I'll fly back tomorrow. Saturday, I'll go to Dover to meet the plane bringing the coffins. I'd like to stop to see you after that.”
“Linda's parents will be here.” He covered the mouthpiece. “He wants to come on Saturday.” Linda shrugged. “Call when you're on the way, Mr. President. Do you know when I can speak to Ash?”
“He's heavily sedated. Probably not right away.” Fritz heard a deep inhale. “Fritz, you saved me again. Your quick thinking saved a lot of people. I'll tell you about it on Saturday. I gotta go now. Thanks again.”
He put the phone on the table and stood. “That was the president,” he said and walked to his desk. With his chin braced by his hands, he stared at the stacked yellow pads. Linda followed.
“What happened, Fritz?” she asked.
“Too soon to know if he'll make it. Jane's in bad shape.” He knew she was behind him, but when he reached out, she stepped back.
“Did he say when he's coming on Saturday?”
“I don't know. He's going to Delaware first. He'll call.” He reached for the baby, but TJ squealed and kicked him in the head.
Chapter 42
THE RUMOR OF his TV appearance had spread during his absence. His first class foreshadowed the rest of the day. He denied his role and directed the conversation to review for final exams. At the end of the period, he assigned homework for Monday.
“But Mr. R,” said A.J. “Monday's a holiday.” Fritz returned him a blank stare. “It's Memorial Day.”
“Thanks, A.J. I'd completely forgotten. Memorial Day already. Tuesday, then.”
When the bell rang, and the class departed, his door opened. Without looking up, he said “Hi Ash.” Then he looked up … at George.
“Are you okay, Fritz? Ashley isn't here today.”
“I know that.”
“You just said 'Hi Ash'.”
“I did? Sorry. Habit.”
“Fritz, do you want me to cancel the play? It's next week.”
“George, I'm not quite with it yet. Let me talk to the kids. I'll let you know later. Okay?”
WHEN HE CHECKED with the students, they told him that Ashley had been letting them work on their own. He'd said his job was to keep them out of trouble with the principal. They were set to go with scenery, music, costumes, and logistics. Ashley had said they didn't need him, that they could handle it blindfolded.
When the period ended, Eric fiddled with his books and knapsack, waiting for the room to clear. As he aimed for the door, he said, “Is Mr. Gilbert going to be okay? It looked like he was shot more than once.” He looked squarely at Fritz. “Mr. R, I know it was you and Mr. Gilbert. And I know how. You saved the president again.” The door opened before Fritz could respond. “I'll
see you later, Mr. R.”
Fritz dodged questions for the next two classes, and in the cafeteria. Rachel and Nicole waited for teachers to move away before cornering him. Nicole asked, “Is Mr. Gilbert hurt bad?” Rachel elbowed her. “Badly,” she corrected.
“He is.”
Rachel asked, “How many times was he shot? I saw it, Mr. Russell. I saw you too.”
“Rachel, Nicole, you didn't see what you think you saw. Mr. Gilbert was in a car accident, and it wasn't me.”
“See. Rachel, I told you he'd deny it. Mr. R, we know you're some kind of spy, but we won't say anything.”
Fritz laughed for the first time in three days. “I'm flattered that you think that highly of me. I'll see you later.” George was waiting when he returned to his classroom.
“Hi George. I still have some teachers to round up, but the kids say they're ready to do the play.”
“How's Ashley? Really?”
He pulled George away from the door. “George, I don't know how bad it is, but he was shot four times and had eight hours of surgery. We only have three more weeks of classes. If he survives, he won't be ready to come back.”
The mere mention of final exams kept his classes subdued. On his way out after seventh period, Eric said he'd be back to talk about the play after school.
Todd said, “Doesn't look like the president's plan worked out too well, Mr. R.”
“No, Todd, not an auspicious start. But over a hundred miles of trenches have already been dug. The desalination plants have begun construction. A series of water storage farms will start going up in a couple of weeks. So only a little setback.”
John Boardman asked, “How did you get back so fast, Mr. R?”
“That was easy, John. I didn't go anywhere.”
Fritz was half-annoyed and half-proud of the prodders. The day ended with a barrage of variations on the theme. The final question quieted the class and caught Fritz by surprise. Jay Bennett asked, “Did you time-travel there, Mr. R?”
* * *
FRITZ WENT IN the backdoor. Mary was sitting alone at the table with her laptop. “They're in the family room, Fritz. Just to warn you, Linda's been arguing with her father.”
“Thanks, Mary. Keep your gun handy. I may need it.” Mary was reading from the screen. “Any news?”
“Sorry, Fritz. Nothing. A lid has been tightened on everything.”
“If anything happens, feel free to interrupt. Please.”
“Hi, honey, I'm home,” he called.
Fritz bent and kissed Emily and then Linda. He took a deep breath and reached to shake Tim's hand, but was greeted with a scowl. “Glad you could make it. How was the trip?”
“Linda told us you're using that portal and that was you on television.”
“So much for small talk. Yeah it was. So?”
“We pay taxes to have a military to take care of those things. Not a teacher.”
Fritz bit his lip and crossed his arms. “They were in trouble, Tim. A sniper was hidden in the dunes that they couldn't see. No other way to warn them volunteered.”
“It was reckless. What would happen to your family if something happened to you? Did you think about that?”
“Every day.”
“That doesn't seem to matter much.”
“Well, Linda's the beneficiary on my life insurance.” His snideness raised Tim's voice.
“Don't get smart with me, Fritz.” Tim was on his feet.
“You're in my house. Don't tell me what to do.”
“Daddy, Fritz. Sit down”
“Look what you've done now. You've got her crying,” said Tim.
“Of course, she's crying. You're embarrassing her by being an ass. So sit down and drink your drink.”
“Stop it, Fritz,” said Linda.
“I'm not doing this for the next five days. Ash and Jane are almost dead, the bad guys are still loose, and I'm the one who's wrong? I don't think so.”
“Fritz,” Linda shouted.
Ignoring her, Fritz turned to her father. “Tim, you're welcome to visit Linda, but stay the hell away from me.” Fritz rumbled back through the kitchen and slammed the door. He slid into the driver's seat of his SUV and banged the steering wheel.
A few minutes later, Linda walked to him, a glass of soda in hand. She opened the door.
“Fritz, come back in. He apologized.”
“Not to me, he didn't.”
“Fritz, damn it, it's my graduation. I don't see them very often. Please don't do this now. For me.”
“I'm not putting up with his crap, not for another minute. I've done it for you since we got married. I've never been good enough.”
“Fritz you know how he is.”
“Only too well. But he's the problem, not me.”
“He thinks he knows what's best for me.”
“Yeah, and I'm not it. Sorry Lin, but I'm not giving in this time. You'd think he'd cut me a little slack. And you should be pissed as hell that he has never respected your judgement or choices.”
“He doesn't understand what you've been doing, and I don't have an answer anymore.”
“Stop defending him. He's been through the portal, he's met the president, he's been to the White House. He's not stupid, and I sure as hell wish he'd stop acting like it. My ninth graders are better behaved.”
“For my sake, come back in, apologize for being rude, and let's put this behind us.”
“Apologize, are you kidding? For what? Oh. I've got it. You think I'm wrong.”
“Fritz, only you can end this. If you apologize, maybe he will—to you as well as to me. I'm not going to beg. Fritz, someone out there isn't afraid to kill people. Now he knows about the portal. That's not Daddy's fault. Come inside.” She stopped for a second. “Please.”
Mary turned quickly to the computer when they came inside. She rolled her eyes when he glanced at her.
“Linda, did you tell him who Mary is?”
“I thought it would be best not to say. I told them she's an au pair.
Tim put his drink down when Fritz entered the family room. “Tim, Emily, I'm sorry I lost my temper. A lot's going on right now.”
“Linda told us. I just don't understand why you're still involved. The United States doesn't need magic to control terrorists.” Fritz turned to Linda.
“The portal isn't magic.” Fritz felt the knot in his stomach tighten. “Without it, a peace treaty in the Middle East was impossible.”
“That's working out really well. I'm sure the British can see the benefits.” Fritz turned to leave.
Linda said, “People are getting killed, and we're trying to stop it.”
“That's my point. Why should you be doing anything? It's not up to you. Your boy has the greatest military force in the world at his fingertips.”
“That's enough,” stormed Fritz. “Our boy, not a good touch, Tim, happens to be the President of the United States of America. He's your president, too, whether you like it or not. He most certainly isn't a boy, and I have to think you meant that like an old-time segregationist. He thinks we're doing something valuable. That's why we're under constant protection.”
“Don't be ridiculous,” said Tim.
Fritz called Mary. He glared at Tim. Linda scowled at him. When Mary stepped around the corner, Fritz asked her to tell Tim who she really was. Mary gulped and looked at the Millers. “It's okay, Mary. He swore an oath … to the president.” Fritz emphasized president with a snarl.
Mary looked at Linda, who nodded. “I am a secret service agent, assigned by the White House to protect the Russells and the portal.”
“You're making that up.”
“And you're arguing for the sake of hearing your own voice,” barked Fritz. “Mary, would you turn your back to him and lift your sweatshirt?” Her holstered pistol dropped Tim Miller's jaw.
Linda said, “Mary has been here since New Year's, Daddy. After Thanksgiving and the accident and the bombings of the naval bases, the president has been worri
ed about our safety. You both swore an oath, so I'm going to tell you this. The summit meeting, when the White House was attacked, was taking place in the room across the hall from Fritz's classroom. The agent you rode with on Thanksgiving was wounded that night and died. So did the president's personal secretary. They were our friends.”
Still angry, Fritz said, “This isn't a game. It's not a TV thriller. We live with this every day. I've stopped asking why. It just is.”
Emily Miller sat and listened. In a soft, almost reluctant voice, she said, “And you saved the president again.”
“Tim, I called you about Jonathan Hartmann.”
“You always think rich people are the problem.”
Linda said, “We know this isn't Arab terrorists. It's an international conspiracy to take down the government. You knew Jonathan Hartmann, and I'm sure you know about Georg Badenhof.”
“You never told me he knows Hartmann.” Fritz wondered what else she hadn't told him.
“Badenhof's companies made the acid that caused our car accident. The banker in South Dakota, the California congresswoman. All a part of that group. We can't find the one man who's left.”
Tim looked at his wife, then back and forth from Linda to Fritz. “Can I have another drink?”
“Help yourself,” said Fritz. “Ice is in the freezer.”
“I'll get it.”
“Stay there, Lin. He can get it himself.” She went to take her father's glass. “Linda, leave it, I said.” The room crackled, her hands on her hips, until Tim stood and left the room with his glass.
“Why are you doing this? I've never seen you like this,” Linda said. “He's my father. And you have no more right to order me around than he does.”
“When you defend him, he thinks I can be bullied, but I've never been afraid of him. I'm certainly not now. I have wanted your support for years. But you are afraid to cross him even though your home is with me.”
Chapter 43
TIM LEANED FORWARD toward his son-in-law. Fritz had balled his fists in anticipation of another round, but Tim's tone was quiet and thoughtful. Fritz sat back. “Hartmann was lucky. His programmers wrote brilliant cyber-security software. I don't know how it works. That's how he explained it to me. Until then, he had a successful computer consulting company. The new program was explosive. He priced it as high as he could, with residuals. The contracts were worth billions. And cost next to nothing.” Tim described the effect of massive wealth. “Hartmann went on a personal spending spree and reached an orbit of wealth most people don't know exists.”
Storm Unleashed (Quantum Touch Book 4) Page 28
