The Unlikely Savior (The Unlikely Savior Trilogy)

by T. S. Seley Elliott

He turned from the computer to give the conversation his full attention; Paul was his friend, and the man had been profoundly affected by his brief involvement in Johnnie’s affairs. And James needed to air his thoughts as well; his conscience was heavy.

  “Paul. Even though you have the background to justify everything that transpired yesterday, well – at least to assign mental health or behavioral explanations to it all, do you believe this is internal to her? Do you really believe that? Is that likely?” His query was less of a challenge than an eleventh hour check and balance for himself.

  He had believed every word and philosophy he’d impressed upon Johnnie these past few days. He also knew that the number of aspects external to Johnnie – things she couldn’t have affected – things she couldn’t have caused, were staggering. But he still had doubts and they were strictly rooted in fear for his only sibling. Like Byron, and like two men he’d never met miles away in Nevada, he wondered with growing unease if, by his own actions, he’d thrust a virtually blameless person in harm’s way. What if he was wrong?

  “James, believe me, I’ve spent every waking minute – which has been pretty much the entire time since I left there, considering that very thing. I spent hours looking for any precedent, anything that could explain it and make sense with all of additional information you provided. I think, even though I have a pretty broad worldview and would have loved to hear about this sort of thing – that it’s one thing to subscribe to a conceptual belief, but quite another to, well, experience tangible results...or, dare I say, proof.” He laughed and then sighed. Even without seeing him, James could tell the man was exhausted as he continued.

  “Or as I was thinking sometime in the early hours this morning...it’s one thing to believe in Santa Claus...but catching him in your living room, well, that would be a whole ‘nuther story, huh?” James heard his cell from across the room. Because it was a text notification rather than a call, he moved toward it slowly, still fully engaged in his friend’s feedback.

  He stopped in the middle of the room, halfway to his other phone.

  “So...do you believe we saw Santa Claus?” It was a ridiculous question on the surface, but both understood the implication. While the answer would do nothing to alter Johnnie’s current spiraling course, it would either give James his land legs back…or potentially pull the rug from beneath him.

  Paul responded, sounding almost as if he needed to say it as much as James needed to hear it.

  “I do.” The man laughed again, a genuine laugh, but the mirth was weighted. He continued the analogy, but with caution. “But we have to remember that Santa Claus is just one element in a much bigger story... If we believe the guy we see is him, not just someone we want to think is him, then we have to believe in the whole enchilada. But, still, we can’t expect to ever see the North Pole, the sleigh...or the gift list. We just have to believe – even though it’s easier just to explain it all away.” He was quiet, then said, more to the point, “You know James; I just never would have pictured it. She’s so…well, all I can say is, she’s a very unlikely savior.” James didn’t respond; of all of the words, the last statement, in particular, resonated through the phone, feeding his hungry thoughts.

  Paul broke the short silence with, “Holy Shit, Batman...you know I could lose my license over that one...” James laughed quietly, but, by increment, had gained some degree of comfort, or at least validation, from his friend’s comments. He heard Paul yawn as he reached his cell phone, reading the text he’d just received from Jeremy.

  “Well...We’re either really wrong, or even more frighteningly, really right...either way, Santa is with the President right now. Keep the faith, my friend, watch the news...and pray your ass off.”

  ________________________________________________________

  As the individuals filed into the room, Johnnie could feel the tension enter with them. She recognized two of the four – probably from the news, or even from media matters she’d dealt with while on active duty; Toby Chrone, Secretary of State, and Donna Pettigrew, the White House Chief of Staff. One of the other two men looked familiar and she had no idea who the last man was, although he seemed to have the most cordial disposition of all. Just being in the presence of these people was nearly delusive to Johnnie and she had to use pure willpower to resist feeling like a Chihuahua among Rottweilers.

  They were as aware of her as she was of them and all were obviously extraordinarily preoccupied, looking fatigued and anxious as Liang closed the door and gestured toward the couches.

  “Sir, I hope we can keep this short...” Frank Wallace spoke under his breath as he passed Wing. The President responded by speaking to the small group, now standing hesitantly around the coffee table.

  “I’d like you all to meet Miss Johnnie Carter. She is not only a personal friend, but a veteran and the individual who averted disaster at JFK day before yesterday. And, for our purposes today, she is a trusted agent.” The mixed introduction created a temporary air of confusion, but the President was obviously on a mission as he individually introduced each person. They extended their hands to the nervous young woman – partially to stay in good form, but also because they were taken off guard and had no idea what else to do.

  The Chief of Staff was particularly ill at ease. While many of them had questioned the President’s stability of late, she was very concerned about his referring to Ms. Carter as a “trusted agent.” Typically, the President’s word was taken without question, but Pettigrew was aware of the cause of this woman’s recent military dismissal and the fact that she’d had her security clearance suspended prior to discharge – although even a top secret clearance would not have been sufficient for this meeting, Carter technically had no clearance at all.

  “Please sit.” The President clearly wasn’t making a request, and everyone, including Johnnie, eased down. She felt like an alien – and not a welcome one. She fixed her gaze on Wing to qualm her returning apprehension.

  Chrone spoke first, a little uneasily, but to the point; they all needed to get past this inexplicable interference of their oversight of national security and world events.

  “Thank you, Ms. Carter, for your service – both to our country and to New York City.” The others murmured in concurrence, and Johnnie, flushed, smiled awkwardly and nodded. Everyone knew they were filling squares and waited for the other shoe to drop.

  The President pulled a chair between the ends of the two couches, the now well weathered envelope in his hand. He looked around the room and asked for the most current situation update from each of them. He was looking for a lead in; he was looking for sign. They, however, looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  Glancing warily at their guest, Donna leaned forward, “Sir, I must protest this discussion...”

  Wing spoke sharply for the first time,

  “You will protest nothing...these times call for extraordinary measures and we are here to determine that very course of action; the extraordinary.” He lifted the envelope for emphasis, although no one knew its significance and he did not offer an explanation. The statement threw them further off kilter, but his deportment was utterly calm and controlled. There was a sense, not for the first time, that this man was either brilliant – or possibly insane.

  “I need to know, right now, all critical elements, particularly anything new that may have come up since I last saw each of you. Time is of the essence, but no detail is too small.”

  They all looked at each other and Frank stood.

  “With all due respect, Sir, I cannot stand for this...” He turned to leave when Wing said evenly, without standing, “You leave, and you are done. I take full responsibility for this discussion, the implications and its consequences. Frank, we have no time – we are out of answers, short of a forward course to world war, and this discussion for which you will not stand – could be our only hope from fall. Now, please. Sit. ”

  Frank Wallace looked at the others, unsure if he might be going crazy himself. H
e sighed and sat. The gravity of the situation wasn’t lost on any of them, but oddly, because of that very concept, they began, one at a time, to tell the President, in front of his “trusted agent,” exactly what each perceived as the greatest concerns from their unique positions of responsibility. Toby’s was, by far, the most grave, with the thinly guised statement that India prepared to “retaliate,” a move guaranteed to further provoke China. But that bit of news did not spark Wing into action. Although he had no idea what he sought, it hadn’t yet appeared.

  The catalyst allowing the President to show – and play – his hand came from Carver, whose input would have typically been most the most benign.

  The Director of Science and Technology, while a senior member of the Executive Staff, was completely unaccustomed to being privy or part to meetings of this nature; he was only here by President Liang’s request. What he had to offer was trivial, at best, when compared to nuclear strikes and potential colossal clashes between the U.S. and China...

  When everyone looked at him, he cleared his throat and looked at the President, “Sir...all I have undoubtedly has no bearing here. Other than to ensure that you are still in support of tomorrow morning’s launch – and to let you know that Bonnie Janz, our wild card astronaut, was removed due to illness – but...”

  The impact of Carver’s statement was akin to a lightning bolt to Wing Liang; completely unprepared and still not understanding, Johnnie felt the power of the strike. She snapped her head to look at the President only a split second before he stood and pointed at her.

  “She goes. Send Ms. Carter – how long will it take to get her ready? Only tell me what would absolutely prevent it – don’t tell me we can’t do it.” The room could have been empty for the stillness. Johnnie was too shocked to protest. Her mouth was agape as her mind leapt to determine why he was doing this...how crazy it was...and, finally, why he believed this was the answer.

  “I can’t believe it! This has to be the last straw...” This time, it was Chrone, not Wallace, who shouted at the President. Assuming he had the concurrence of the others, he stood, lowering his voice, “Liang – this isn’t even worthy of...” Wing stared the man directly in the eye as he also stood and withdrew the contents of the envelope.

  “Did you say you don’t believe it? Do you believe this?” He first handed Chrone a single paper, with a small photo attached, then, with quiet emphasis, gave a similar set to everyone but Johnnie, who got a single sheet with four short paragraphs.

  A mixture of irritation and denial, followed by confusion crossed the faces of everyone in the room, except Johnnie, who after scanning the short narratives on her page, slowly look around the room, then at Wing. He looked more confident than ever as he said a single word to her, “Belief.”

  Donna Pettigrew was the first to recover. She was red-faced and defensive.

  “Mr. President, this is extremely personal and compelling, but I don’t see how it has any bearing on...” Liang did not respond verbally, but only pointed to the quiet young woman at the end of one couch, who now stared at the floor. Pettigrew ignored his gesture, saying,

  “I still don’t...”

  “Would you look?! There is not one person here, including myself, who does not owe a tremendous personal debt to this woman. Who you see there, is who you see here!” He was quiet, only for a moment, as the ruffled professionals looked from the photos and notes in their hands to Johnnie.

  He finished, “And if that isn’t enough for you, then I ask you, no – I implore you to look back on that one time in your life when you believed in something extraordinary...because you had no choice; and because you wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  Johnnie was still too stunned to speak when Wing looked at her, speaking only to her, holding up one finger, then another, then a third.

  “Proximity, belief, and the greater the need...”’

  And she completed his statement in a whisper,

  “...the greater the power.” She understood his intent now. She also understood he was prepared to test his theory. And with no warning, she not only understood his concept, but she felt it as if it had been there all along. Part of her.

  For once, the typically outspoken esteemed group was silent. While they didn’t completely understand what their leader was getting at, they were just off balance enough to refrain from challenging a notion that had suddenly become so very personal.

  One person finally spoke,

  “I’ll make the call to NASA on your behalf. She’ll go.” David Carver, Director of Science and Technology for the Executive office, also the liaison between NASA and the President, swung his glance to Johnnie, who sat closest to him. Tears filled his eyes as he looked from the woman to the small photo. The photo bore the image of a girl around the age of eight...a very plain face to most, but for him, it was a face he would never forget as long as he lived.

  It was the first face – first anything he had seen when his sight was restored at the age of eighteen, having completely lost his vision as a baby. And, until this moment, he’d not seen the face again anywhere other than in his dreams. Now, seeing and feeling again what he’d felt then, was all he needed to justify bending -- or breaking -- every rule necessary to honor the President’s wishes.

  ___________________________________________________________

  As personal escort to the President’s guest, Jeremy was allowed to await Johnnie in the corridor outside the Oval Office. He certainly wasn’t alone and while he was unsure of the identities of the men who stood close by, he really didn’t care who they were. He was worried about Johnnie and his mind exploded with the possibilities of what the President expected of her. His loyalties were severely divided between faith in a President for whom he had voted and defended in many an informal debate, the desire for what was best for his country...and his nearly paralyzing desire to protect a woman whom, by normal standards, he should barely know.

  When the door to “the office” opened, he turned and was surprised to see the President himself, not a staff member, look out. After a quick glance at the other gentlemen with whom he was apparently familiar, Wing Liang’s eyes settled on Jeremy.

  “Jeremy Christensen, I presume?” Jeremy stood a little straighter as he nodded and received the hand of the President.

  “Welcome...it’s good to meet you. You must be a very trusted friend – I am familiar with your employer and,” he added with self-deprecating smile, “Well, a fan of Ms. Carter...please come. Johnnie is in my study and asked that you join her.” He turned, beckoning for Jeremy to follow.

  Jeremy felt as though he looked through a movie camera rather than his own eyes as he followed the President through the Oval Office door to another door, which was ajar. He saw a gaggle of people quietly talking in a setting he never expected to see in person. He was still in awe when the President ushered him through the second door, saying, “We just need a short time, and I’m afraid she’ll need to leave right away.” Jeremy was already in the closed study before he had a real grip on what had just happened. He stared at the door, then he heard her behind him.

  “I’m going on the Space Shuttle.” He couldn’t even identify the tone in Johnnie’s voice, but he turned to see her perched on the arm of an overstuffed chair nearby. He thought he’d misunderstood or that perhaps she was joking in her nervousness.

  “Come again?” He faced her as he set his briefcase on the floor.

  She looked small, leaning there, a little stunned, but oddly accepting of her own announcement. She sighed.

  “It leaves in the morning. It wasn’t the original plan, I guess...but now it’s the only plan...but, hey, who doesn’t want to be astronaut?” She smiled at his look of incomprehension, continuing to speak to fill the void. “...at least you can tell Mom I’m safe from the masses...did we tell you that she actually believes I’m the product of the second immaculate...”

  In an instant he advanced, bending to her perched height locking her body between his straigh
t arms, placing one hand on the chair back, the other on the chair arm where she rested; their faces were suddenly inches apart.

  “You don’t have to do this, Johnnie...” As he said it, her eyes crunched shut, she turned her head slightly and she froze. She’d had a physical reaction to his sudden closeness and it took her breath away. It was so overwhelming she was convinced she was on the verge of another episode. He saw her go rigid.

  “Johnnie...are you OK?” Upon hearing his urgent voice very near her ear, her eyes flew open. There they were...same time, same place…nothing had changed. She inhaled deeply and moved her head as far away from his as she could without falling backward into the chair. She needed to breathe.

  “I’m sorry...I thought...I thought something happened...” She was still out of breath as she spoke and his expression flickered, but he made no effort to back away. Her evasive actions were useless and she held perfectly still as he responded quietly.

  “Something did happen.” She processed his words and their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity to Johnnie before she turned away slightly; he looked down, seeming to focus on her shoulder and she could feel his breath on her face. But neither moved as he said, again, almost in a whisper.

  “You don’t have to do this. Don’t do it.” He knew, even as he said it, it was pointless.

  “Yes, I do.” She glanced at him quickly, catching his eye, her mouth pressing into a tired smile. They both knew she would go, although they, and no one else for that matter, knew what would happen when she did. Or if it would be a one-way trip.

  He closed his eyes and shook his head as he pushed away and slowly stood. He considered apologizing for being out of line, but decided against it. He looked down at her, silent, as he waited for her to look back at him. She did. His expression held a thousand unspoken words – but all he said was, “You have to...”

  He was interrupted by voices right outside the door.

  She stood and said to him,

  “I will...” and with her very best Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation, she lowered her voice with, “I’ll be back.”