“I am Captain John Haverland, ma’am. I have been instructed to fly you to Denver. We are fueled and ready to go now.”
“No waiting?”
“No, ma’am. I have clearance to enter the queue as soon as you are aboard,” he said. Jake could see that under his military hat, the man was bald. He sported a pointed goatee and a thick mustache.
Jake came around the Suburban to give Hallie a hug. She embraced him desperately. He could feel the pressure on his ribs.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” she said to him.
“I can’t make that promise,” Jake replied.
She leaned back and took his face in her hands.
“I know. That is why I worry about you.”
His eyes darted back and forth between her brilliant green irises. He loved her. He feared for her. He would sacrifice himself for her.
He could not turn back. He could not let her see how determined he was to keep her from returning to New York. What he had to do there, he would need to do alone. Still, he was having second thoughts.
“You will be three girls in the mountains. What if someone comes for you there? Someone who knows that we have spoken to the Senator?”
She shook her head.
“No one knows,” she scoffed.
“I would not be too sure about that,” he returned. “I think our boys back at the mansion are eyes and ears.”
Hallie smiled crookedly.
“You are such a conspiracy theorist,” she said. “You dream up stuff I would never consider.”
“It is what keeps me alive, Hallie. Without my natural fears and prejudices, I would not last more than a minute in the real world.”
Hallie took a deep breath and glanced at the Captain who had already begun to return to the jet. Jake noted the lines of worry on her face.
“The Senator is generous, Hallie. Just go and I will meet you and Macy back at the house in two days. I will even take out the dry cleaning and organize the garage.”
She smirked.
“You won’t remember where everything goes.”
He grabbed her hands in his.
“I will just start it all anew. The same thing for us, Hallie. I don’t always remember everything, but I am committed to the present moment. I am committed to you. It tears me up to let you go even for just two days. We have no real choices. Our family is our priority now,” Jake explained.
She looked worried.
“The Senator wants you to save the world and you are worried about us? What kind of hero are you, Monday?”
Jake felt a stab of pride and wonderment at this woman with so much confidence in him.
“I’m no hero, Hallie,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I just want to make up for what I have done. I know it will never be enough, but I still have to try.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t have to atone for anything, Jake. Just get your butt back to us in one piece.”
He hugged her, pressing her hair into his face. He needed her strength. He watched her scale the steps, glancing back and waving. He would miss her. He knew in the hours ahead he would probably regret letting her go. He swore then that he would never do this to her again. If another time presented itself.
Chapter 6
Wings like Eagles
Even with the view from south-facing windows, the approximately eight hundred square feet of the oval room felt like a prison. The most comfortable prison ever constructed. He held a folder in his hand, astounded that it was not an iPad or a tablet. So much has changed in technology, but I still hold a manila folder in my hand, he thought.
He hated waiting on people. He was the President of the United States. He should not have to wait. He smiled in spite of himself. He was prone to these bouts of self-importance and pouting lately. Gabriel Scott Vine, 46th President, would not live to see the 47th President take office. That was a sobering and depressing realization.
It was obvious to him that he would not avoid being murdered at some point. It was everything he could do just to prevent his son from being the one who pulled it off.
More security would not solve the problem. The bunker was out of the question. In the meantime he had to continue to rule and to hope that his son was safe.
He had avoided telling Catherine. She would only tell him to have Jake jailed. Or worse. He did not need that headache on top of everything else. It was a struggle to consider the nation he served in the face of imminent, inescapable death. He had to pay for his past sins in some manner; he just wished it would be something less definite. Less final.
A furtive knock sounded at the west door.
“Come in.” He knew it was not Carol, his assistant secretary. She had left for the evening.
The sun had not completely set yet. Catherine would be waiting for him. She had the kitchen staff on hold. Special day. The day they met at a rally just over a decade ago. He was never so sentimental, but he understood that Cat held some days special above others. He usually humored her and managed to get flowers or a special gift. He gave Carol the order to send the flowers with a note that he would be late. A note. Should have been a text. Or a tweet.
“Mr. President.” The gravelly voice was familiar and always gave him a sense of peace and safety. He needed that right now.
Gabriel turned, forcing a warmth that he did not feel.
“Harold. I am glad you came. I have some more issues I want to discuss.”
“About your son?”
“Yes. About Jake,” he gestured to the chair on his left. “Come sit.”
He sat at the Resolute desk, its wood almost two centuries old. Something about the size and age of the desk gave him comfort. Harold sat in the old chair, an extra Gabriel had suggested to be moved from the red room. It creaked under Harold’s weight. All muscle.
Harold looked uncomfortable. It was not the high back of the chair—Harold had perfect posture anyway.
“Jake is missing, sir. My team lost him after he left Senator Swane’s mansion.”
“I’m not concerned about that right now. He is going to hide now. That is perhaps for the best. Surely he knows now.”
Harold nodded.
“We confirmed that Jake was fully informed of his actions.”
“Was it wise to abandon the programming?” Gabriel asked. He had always had his doubts. It was best not to mess with Jake’s head, but the clever blocks they developed at least suppressed any emotional triggers that would have made it easier for Jake to pull the trigger. It would be simple to convince an assassin to kill someone they hated.
Harold shrugged.
“He was bound to find out sooner or later, sir. Personally, I was surprised that Hallie did not notice his confusion. Besides, the science of blocking memories like that is inexact at best. Between what we were doing, Galbraith, and whoever else was in Jake’s head, it was a wonder the man didn’t just go crazy. Senator Swane was able to break the news to him in a way that was almost merciful, given the circumstances. The senator has really stuck out his neck for your son, sir.”
Gabriel felt a hot lump in his throat, emotion he thought he would never feel.
“That will make two of us. I guess we will both pay the price of that folly.”
Harold looked confused for a moment.
“You are possibly the best protected man on the planet, sir. Do you still feel threatened?”
Gabriel smirked.
“I will not always be President, Harold. And there is no way to protect me from the storm that is coming.”
“You are the most powerful man in the world. Why are you afraid? Your son can be handled, Mr. President.”
“I am not afraid, Harold,” Gabriel said, an edge on his voice.
“I am sorry sir. I am just confused. I don’t understand what...”
Gabriel waved away his apology.
“Harold. Don’t waste your breath. I am not the most powerful man in the world. Not even close. That is the first lie you
have to stop believing if you truly want to protect me. You have to see this, Harold. I trust you. I cannot even allow the Chief of Staff or the Director see the contents of this folder. But for you to know why I am resolved to my own demise, you must read this folder first.”
He slid the manila folder across the edge of the desk toward Harold. He looked at, his fingers touching it and then glanced up at the President, a question on his face.
“I don’t really want to open this, do I?”
The President sighed.
“Probably not. It is like Pandora’s Box. I found it too tempting and now I am wishing I had never made the deal with this particular devil. Power corrupts, Harold. Remember that. But, like a man who occupied this desk before me was fond of saying, the ‘Buck stops here. ’”
Harold smirked.
“Truman?”
He nodded.
“Read it, Harold. It is a risk. You will not be able to pretend you do not know the truth afterward. There is no going back.”
“I will think on it, sir. As long as you are not making this a requirement, I would rather just trust you at your word.”
“Of course. Take your time. I believe I have at least until after the election.”
“They? What kind of conspiracy is this?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“I am sorry, Harold. I am just getting paranoid. Just read the folder if you want. If not, just leave it here at my desk.”
Harold sat back. Gabriel had never seen him fearful or timid before.
“I am sorry, sir. I will help protect you the best I know how. I will give my life to defend yours. My whole agency will. But, this smacks of corruption and I cannot be involved in that. You will just have to trust in our abilities with the information we have.”
He appreciated Harold’s candor. Honesty. Something that currency could not buy anymore.
“I appreciate that, Harold. I am aware I am putting you in a difficult position. I only ask that you protect my family. Especially Jake.”
“He is one of us. Of course we will.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“He is no longer one of you. My guess is he is heading to New York now to confront Kyle Evers and turn in their resignation.”
Harold looked confused.
“Resign? But why? We are protecting them.”
Gabriel shrugged and pulled the folder back under the desk to his lap.
“He does not trust anyone. Most of all, anyone who would like to help him. He will go it alone. I have seen him do this before.”
“When you divorced Margaret?”
Gabriel gazed back through the portico to the Kennedy Gardens.
“Yes. And when she died. I knew he would never forgive me for that. He entered the service and I knew I had lost him. I even dreamed that as President we could finally develop at least a calculated relationship.” He turned back to Harold. “This must sound pathetic. Commander-in-Chief to family crisis.”
“On the contrary, Mr. President. It sounds human. It makes me proud to know that I am serving someone who can have real human feelings.”
Gabriel scoffed.
“Well, don’t tell Catherine. She will think that I am getting soft. I will never hear the end of it.”
Harold smiled.
“I will guard it as the highest National Security, Mr. President.”
Gabriel stood, his hand extended.
“Excellent. Well, Harold. I appreciate you meeting me this evening. Now, get back to Susan before she makes you quit this thankless job of yours.”
Harold stood and shook his hand. His eyes were misty.
“Yes sir.” He turned without afterthought and exited the room.
Gabriel stood, the rough grit of Harold’s hand still a sensation on his palm. He sighed and put the folder on the desk. His phone rang. It went direct. His staff was off. He had been waiting on this. He pushed the button for the speaker. He had always hated listening to self-important bozos talk in an empty room on a speaker phone. Now, he found it completely indispensable.
“Are we secure?” President Vine asked. He always took a brusque approach with his covert operatives.
“Yes, sir.” Gabriel noted that he did not use the term “President.” Clever.
“What do we know?”
“They picked him up at Kennedy airport. Shuttling him now to Colorado.”
The man’s tone was exasperated. He sounded as though he desperately wanted to do something but was being held back. It reminded Gary of when Jake was younger and wanted to join the military. He had refused to allow him to throw away his life like that. He regretted it now. Look where Jake ended up.
“Denver or Colorado Springs?” He asked.
“The bunkers, we guess. Denver is too dangerous after...well, you heard about the incident, right?” The man explained.
“I know about Lars. You know what to do next?” Gabriel replied tersely.
“Follow him there?”
“Yes. And Hallie?” He asked.
“Safe. For now. I think she will come to see me.”
“Avoid her if you can. She cannot be connected to this,” the President commanded.
“I understand. When I find him? What do you want me to do?”
“You know who the bad guys are. Take care of it.” He wanted to sound commanding. He was perhaps too tired to pull it off. It almost came off as a plea.
“Yes sir. I will need a team.”
“You will have what you need. Meet them in Denver and call me when you have a plan and more information about their location. Let’s hope they are not in those bunkers. I cannot access the Air Force for this, you understand.”
“Yes sir. Sometimes the force used needs to be in relation to the threat, though.”
“I said you will have what you need. Now call me as soon as you are prepared to do something. You have my new secure cell?”
“Yes sir.”
“I will be waiting. I hate waiting.”
“Yes sir.”
He hung up with the touch of a button. He stared at the folder on the desk, the darkness finally coming. It truly was already surrounding them. They just had never realized. America was a pawn. Actually, it was Bishop. Controlling but one-tracked. Feeling powerful but maligned.
Independence Day was a week away. What a joke. They had never been free to begin with.
∞
When the security team had rushed him at the airport two hours ago, Jake had thought it was best not to fight back. Now, sitting in the back of the cargo plane, he wished he had at least taken some of them down with him. Especially the jerk with the face mask. It was a modified gas mask, making his voice sound muffled. The guy had seen one too many comic book movies.
The sound of the props was a roar in his ears. He was grateful. He was able to doze. His captors sat around him smoking cigarettes and joking harshly. He shut them out and concentrated. He prepared himself for the inevitable. Surely, the answers lay at the end of this road. He was as lucid as he had been in years.
He still held the locket in his palm, the thin chain bundled around it. The memories flooded in. Mostly good ones. It would be easier to control him if he could not remember his wife, his child, his mother, his home. Things that matter. Things that buttress the man he became.
He realized then that the man that these people and events formed had been there all along. It was a relief. It was an epiphany. It was exactly what he needed. It strengthened his resolve.
He cracked open his eyelids and scanned his captors. Eight in total that he could see. He imagined that if he wanted to escape, now would be the ideal time. Just simply overwhelm eight armed men and jump from 20,000 feet. When he got to his destination, escape would likely be impossible.
Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. He knew his memory was not completely restored. Gaps remained, but he recalled enough to gain his confidence. He knew enough about himself and the ones he loved to regain a sense of direction, a sense of
conviction. This made him almost feel giddy. He tried to bottle those emotions and feed off of the energy of a renewed spirit.
He must have dozed because he did not remember descending. He felt the wheels touch down. The plane jolted and bounced. He opened his eyes and saw that he was braced by armed men. The man on his left had a bruised cheek and a crew cut. They all looked like mercenaries and smelled like gun oil, sour sweat, and leather.
He saw no insignias. Ex-military, he guessed. Trained and expensive. The bruise on his neighbor’s cheek was probably from some internal fight set off by bravado and machismo.
After they had taxied to a stop, he was grabbed by the elbows and forced to stand. His manacles were unlocked while two men twisted his shoulders until the blades touched. Another held a pistol to his temple.
The ramp was released, its hydraulics loud in the confined space. No one spoke. No promises, no threats, no orders. Everyone knew their roles and no one was stupid enough to complain.
These gents are well-paid and well-trained. Maybe I made the right decision to not fight back, Jake thought.
They escorted him down the ramp as a team. Two men on each side, one in front, and three behind or flanking. He could hear their footsteps but could not turn his head to see them. Two pistols nearby his head and three more ready behind him. He decided the wisest decision would be to go along.
The darkness of the airport almost made it indistinguishable. After a moment, he saw the mountains. He looked up, realizing this was a familiar place. He had just been here. This was Peterson Air Force Base. Why was he here? Who were these people? How can they have access to Peterson? To a C130 Hercules? Jake wondered. Money, of course. Jake should know that money can buy just about anything.
“Head down,” came a voice from behind. A gloved hand pushed his head forward. He barely kept his balance.
He obeyed. It was easier to think if he just stared at the tarmac. His head ached from the plane ride, his ears still adjusting to the relative silence of the base. He could see the reflection of halogen lights on the tarmac in front of him and assumed he was being marched toward a hangar. He wanted badly to just look up.
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