The Heritage Paper

by Derek Ciccone

  “More lies!”

  “Maybe so, but they won’t be coming from some radical Islamic cleric. They will come from the mouth of Aligor Sterling—the man who spent his life hunting down Nazi war criminals, and was a constant dinner guest of the Israeli prime minister.”

  Youkelstein felt sick. “So I presume after this alleged evidence against Aligor Sterling is revealed—to a crime no different than if Israel declared war on the US—Kingston will be forced to remove his support for the current conflict, despite his campaign promises. Just like Hitler, you will have created an enemy in the Jews. And you will have learned from Hitler’s mistake, and choose to stand aside as your enemies destroy each other.”

  Aligor smiled like a teacher who’d just gotten through to his most difficult student. “This act of neutrality—citing George Washington’s 1793 Proclamation of Neutrality as precedent—will create an isolated and vulnerable Israel. And without the specter of US intervention, the path will be cleared for its enemies to join together and rise up against them. Israel will be left a cornered animal with one last card to play in the name of survival.”

  “Nukes,” Youkelstein said sadly.

  Aligor nodded. “And with the Russian’s economic relationship in the region, they will have no choice but to retaliate. And if America has reservations about entering the current struggle, I doubt their willingness would increase as the body count rises, and the radiation spreads.

  “And as history tells us, the Russians don’t need to have their arms twisted to join a war. The French and Germans will not have the internal support to back Israel—as their large Muslim populations will rise up in the streets. The only support will come from the British … based on their own self-interest, of course. So the Israelis and British end up fighting the Russians. To the death. The Führer hated the Russians much more than the Jews!”

  Aligor pushed out of his chair. He stood beside Youkelstein and draped his arm around him. In a different time, it would’ve been a portrait of friendship. But today, Youkelstein squirmed away.

  Aligor remained undeterred, “I will take great pride in the destruction of the British, and this time the US will not be there to save them. You see, Ben, the British killed my brothers and the Jews killed my parents, and now I’m going to get justice. How does the saying go—killing two birds with one stone?”

  “And once your enemies have destroyed each other, you plan to have the Reich move in and rule the world for the next thousand years.”

  “Which is precisely why we will protect Maggie and Jamie at any cost. We won’t let you harm them, as you have come here to do.”

  Chapter 65

  “So what’s this, Obi-Wan, your light-saber?” the guard asked, stroking the umbrella.

  “If it was, I would’ve killed you yesterday morning,” Youkelstein replied, matching Eddie Peterson’s smugness. He was his personal warden, watching over him, locked in a room inside Kingston’s mansion.

  Eddie laughed. “I’ve been shot, stabbed, and had my throat slit with the jagged end of a broken bottle. But I must admit, nobody ever came after me with a weapon as pathetic as an umbrella.”

  “Since it isn’t a threat to you, perhaps I can have it back?”

  “No, I think I’ll hold onto it, Obi-Wan. Why do you have it, anyway? It couldn’t have been a sunnier day.”

  “It helps me to walk. I guess I’m too stubborn to admit I need the help of a cane. It’s not easy being in your nineties—too bad you’ll never live long enough to find out.”

  Eddie laughed again. “You had your chance to take your shot. Now it looks like I’m going to outlive you.”

  “I didn’t mean I was going to kill you—they will. Those without the blood are expendable. And when they start covering up their crimes, you’ll be first on their list. Especially since you allowed Veronica to witness the kidnapping of the children, which put their entire operation at risk. Neither you or her will live to see the inauguration.”

  “Spare me the psycho-babble.”

  “You’re already dead to them. Yesterday you were head of security and now you’re stuck babysitting an old man and his umbrella. The important players have already left for the Waldorf.”

  “Your arrival changed the plans. They know they can count on me in an emergency—I’m a team player.”

  “Just like those SS officers who marched those innocent women and children to their deaths. Just doing their job … following orders. And when it was over, like you, they all became expendable.”

  He swung the umbrella, striking Youkelstein in his broken ribs. The pain ripped through him, but he found the strength to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You have the same problem I do.”

  “I have a death wish?”

  “Perhaps, but I meant you wear your emotions on your sleeve, which makes you easy to read.”

  “So you think you have me all figured out, old man?”

  “This is all about you not being good enough. Your parents deserted you, and Harold Peterson is given credit for your police accomplishments. These Nazis were the first people to make you feel important, and they gave you a chance to finally match up to Carsten—the one with the royal blood.”

  “That’s not true—Ellen always believed in me.”

  “Which makes it strange that you wouldn’t follow the wishes she willed to Maggie. Unless your Nazi friends convinced you that this is what Ellen really wanted. That she no longer understood what she was saying, and needed to be silenced. At least it was a more peaceful way to go than the method Rose Shepherd used to quiet your mother.”

  Eddie swung the umbrella again, and connected in the same spot.

  Youkelstein curled up on the floor, and weakly responded, “You will never truly be one of them. First, you’ll be called on to do away with Veronica before she goes to the police, and then you’ll be next. Save yourself.”

  He raised the umbrella again, “I said shut your mouth!”

  “If you won’t save yourself, at least save Maggie and Jamie. I see the way you look at those kids—you love them.”

  Eddie began to swing the umbrella again. This time at Youkelstein’s head. But he stopped in mid thrust.

  Youkelstein was right—Edward Peterson wasn’t like them.

  Chapter 66

  Eddie moved across the upstairs of the mansion until he came upon the guard standing stiffly outside Maggie and Jamie’s room.

  “I need to talk to them—let me in.”

  The guard looked annoyed. “Your orders were to not leave Youkelstein. Where is he?”

  Suddenly the guard’s face contorted. His eyes dazed and he staggered a few steps before falling to his knees.

  Youkelstein looked at the man he’d just injected with the tip of his “light saber,” having surprised him from behind

  “Hurry,” he urged Eddie, noticing the guard beginning to twitch on the floor. He was the one who kicked Youkelstein’s umbrella away outside. Smiley was no longer smiling. In fact, he was in the beginning stages of a deadly stroke.

  Eddie pounded on the door. “Open up! Emergency! Guard down—guard down!”

  The door flung open and a large man with a semiautomatic weapon stepped forward. With no hesitation, Eddie put a bullet into his head, and he fell like a rock.

  Maggie began to scream, but Eddie muffled it with his hand. Jamie’s eyes bulged out of his head, but it seemed to be more excitement than fear.

  “We don’t have much time,” Eddie urged. “We need to get out of here.”

  Maggie wasn’t going anywhere—not with him. She folded her arms and moved away.

  “I messed up, okay? I told your mother I’d keep you safe, Mags, and I plan to keep my promise.”

  She gauged him for a long moment, searching for the answer. She appeared to relent, and approached like she was going to give him a hug. But then she threw a punch to his most sensitive of areas. “Don’t ever do that again,” she said.

  Eddie ben
t over in pain, but nodded in agreement.

  It turned out that Jamie needed the bigger sales job. He’d grown accustomed to the lifestyle of the rich and famous. Only when his sister threatened his life did he agree to go. But the boy refused to leave his video game behind. He found a white laundry bag in the closet, put the game inside, and slung it over his shoulder.

  Eddie led them into the hall. Footsteps were moving in their direction. A shot whistled by them and a vase crashed to the floor.

  Eddie returned fire and they could hear the guards fall to the ground. They then followed him through a maze of corridors until they arrived at the grand staircase.

  As they stood at the top of the staircase, reality clicked in. The footsteps grew louder behind them. It was the guards on the upstairs level. Below, two more guards aimed their automatic weapons. Word had spread quickly.

  They were trapped.

  But Maggie had an idea.

  “Uncle Eddie, you shouldn’t be trying to protect us. We need to protect you.”

  “What are you talking about?” he snapped, as the two upstairs guards moved into their vision. He was the protector.

  “Jamie and I are royal blood, remember? They can’t shoot us. We are like …”

  “A shield!” Jamie exclaimed.

  Jamie handed Youkelstein the bag with the Xbox in it, and hopped on Eddie’s back. Maggie wrapped around his shoulders from the front like they were slow dancing, her legs dangling down.

  Youkelstein trailed close behind, as they started down the stairs. “Move back—precious cargo coming through,” Eddie yelled at the downstairs guards.

  They didn’t drop their weapons, so Eddie shot at them. He hit one in the arm and his gun fell to the ground. The other, the one Youkelstein had nicknamed the Golden Retriever, put his down voluntarily. Smart puppy.

  The guard looked confused, and shouted at the upstairs guards, “Hold your fire! Secure the children without force.”

  They reached the bottom of the staircase and stepped into the Great Room. Then eased toward the front entrance. The guards followed slowly. It was a game of chess.

  Even if they made it out, the yard was littered with security. Sterling’s personal security, who claimed to be ex-Mossad, Israeli loyalists, but Youkelstein knew that was a fabrication—they were nothing but SS in training.

  Maggie again took the role of leadership—she was a natural. “Once we make it outside they can’t do anything. The only thing that could hold Kingston back from winning at this point is a shootout in his front yard.”

  “Can’t shoot kids and old people!” Jamie shouted out.

  When they reached the front door, Eddie set them down. He began pushing the kids out the door. Shots rang out, and Eddie’s white dress shirt instantly turned red. He had been shot through the chest and slumped to the ground.

  Maggie shouted at Youkelstein. “Get down!”

  He followed her orders. She then ordered Jamie to stand in front of him. They couldn’t shoot Jamie.

  Maggie knelt by Eddie. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine, Maggot, but you need to get out of this house,” he replied, his voice fading.

  “Not without you.”

  He mustered strength. “I’m ordering you, Maggot—get out of there now!”

  “You can’t order me—I’m royal blood.”

  “What you are is a royal pain in the ass. Besides, I’m your uncle and that outweighs everything.”

  She was only twelve, but wise enough to realize that Eddie wasn’t going to make it out alive. But she still had a chance to get out … if she hurried. The guards were moving closer, their rhythmic footsteps clicking on the floor. Youkelstein could swear they were goose-stepping.

  Maggie’s expression turned angry. A fire began simmering in her eyes. She noticed Eddie’s gun on the floor and picked it up.

  She could do anything she wanted and the lowly guards couldn’t do anything back. It was intoxicating. No wonder so many kings and queens had abused their power over the years, Youkelstein thought.

  She pointed the gun at the culprit—Golden Retriever.

  “No,” Eddie said with a weak voice.

  “Family sticks together, right?” Maggie said, tears streaming down her face. “He shot you, so now I’m going to shoot him back.”

  “No,” Eddie said, this time firmer. The red pool on his chest had grown from a puddle to a lake.

  Maggie held steady, her stare never leaving Retriever.

  “They think because you have a certain blood in you that you’re like them, but you’re not. That stuff doesn’t matter. The person you are is because of how you were raised. You’re mother and father are the two best people I know, and they didn’t raise a killer.”

  Maggie held the gun firm. It was like she wasn’t listening. The guards continued to move in, but not as confidently as before.

  At the last second, she dropped the gun.

  Youkelstein had no such reservations. He picked it up and fired a sizzling bullet through Golden Retriever’s brain—it’s not like he was using it, anyway. Not a bad shot for an elderly man with poor vision and shaky hands, if he said so himself.

  The shot bought them a few seconds to make a run for it. Before they did, with one last gasp, Eddie ordered them to stuff his belongings—badge, wallet, handcuffs, and second weapon—into the laundry bag. There was no time for tearful goodbyes.

  As they moved out the door another shot rang out. This one pierced Youkelstein’s clavicle and he could feel the bone shatter. But he fought through the pain until he felt the sun on his face.

  Once outside, Maggie and Jamie began running toward the front gate, yelling “Help!”

  The scene was complete chaos. People pressing up against the gates. Helicopters flying overhead. Youkelstein moved after the kids as fast as he could, but collapsed midway through the yard.

  Maggie and Jamie saw him fall. Maggie took Eddie’s gun and began running at one of the heavily armed guards who was moving in on Youkelstein. Jamie followed his sister.

  Chapter 67

  “So did you vote today?”

  “Huh?” Flavia spacily responded to her female assistant as they stood in her Rhinebeck gallery.

  Before she could answer, a bell signaled the opening of the front door. Flavia sent a paranoid look in its direction, but a stream of sun burst through on a rare, sun-drenched November day, and spotlighted the familiar man.

  False alarm.

  “Are you okay, Flav?” her assistant asked again.

  She wasn’t sure. She hadn’t slept since Veronica Peterson and her group had shown up here yesterday. She could feel the ghosts closing in on her last night with every creak of the old house.

  Flavia shook the cobwebs. “I’m sorry. Just a little distracted. No, I plan to go after we close. The polls are open until eight, right?”

  The man approached her. It was FedEx Steve. Just like every day, he wore his purple and orange pullover with baseball cap and a happy-to-be-alive smile.

  “I almost didn’t recognize you. You’re usually dressed a little more Flav-ulous,” he greeted her, before turning apologetic. “But that’s not to say you still don’t look great.”

  She smiled at him. He wasn’t being flirtatious. He was just one of those serial complimenters. She wore a simple fall sweater and jeans, her hair was in a ponytail and she wore little make-up. Obviously, Steve didn’t notice the dark circles under her eyes.

  Flavia took the package, and after trading pleasant goodbyes with Steve, she carried it into her office and shut the door. She checked the postal mark—Chappaqua, New York. She removed the mailing tape with a pair of scissors, and opened the box.

  The contents of the box consisted of a key that was attached to instructions, along with a neatly typed manuscript titled My Family Tree—The Last Leaves of Evil. By Ellen Sarowitz-Peterson.

  The final item was a portable video player. On it, Ellen had loaded a video in which she methodically explained e
verything from the beginning, filling in all the blanks.

  Ever since her father’s deathbed confession, Flavia had felt as if her identity had been stolen. She had been lost. But suddenly she knew exactly who she was, and where she’d come from. She realized that the ghosts weren’t chasing her—they were protecting her.

  And it was clear what she needed to do next. She had to get Ellen’s memoir to Jim Kingston before it was too late.

  Chapter 68

  Veronica had pushed her way to the front gate of the Kingston estate. She doubted her children were inside, but she was sure that Jim Kingston knew their whereabouts. She needed to talk to him.

  But as the afternoon grew long, the gates opened and a stretch limo headed out. It stopped just outside the gate and a window electronically rolled down. Veronica strained to look in.

  She saw Kingston sitting next to Sterling.

  Kingston shouted out a statement to his supporters, who were surrounding the vehicle. A few reporters yelled questions to him, but his only response was a thumbs-up. He flashed his charismatic smile as the limo pulled away.

  The obvious reaction would’ve been to follow Kingston, but something told her to stay. Zach read her eyes and agreed. As if he had a choice.

  About an hour later, she appeared prophetic, when the most unbelievable thing happened. The front door opened and two small children ran out, followed by an elderly man.

  Maggie and Jamie!

  They were shouting, “Help!” at the top of their lungs as they moved toward the front gate. Veronica tried to will them to safety like she was using some Jedi mind trick. But it had the opposite effect.

  Youkelstein fell to the ground and the kids stopped and ran to help him. “No!” Veronica shouted out. All that crap she taught them about helping others was coming back to bite her in the ass.