The Territory of Lies

by Ana Stone

  She turned and smiled. "Sorry. So, are you excited about your new assignment?"

  He rolled his eyes but grinned. "Well, it does sound intriguing."

  "Where is it you're going?" Weasel leaned forward and whispered. "Just between you and me . . . that's classified."

  Sydney made a face at him. "So, how am I supposed to get in touch with you if you won't tell me where you're going to be?"

  "There's always E-mail," he said with a chuckle.

  She smiled and shook her head. Weasel took a sip of his drink and turned to Blake. "I still can't believe you took that position at the academy. I thought you were addicted to field work. Sure you won't get bored?"

  Blake shook his head. "Nope, in fact, I think I'm ready for a change. I'm getting too old to keep up with these young bloods that are coming in. Let them handle it. I'll teach them how."

  Weasel nodded his head in Sydney's direction, who was once more staring out of the window.

  "Penny for your thoughts." Blake said softly.

  She turned to look at him. "I was just thinking how strange it is. Here we are, new challenges and adventures, safe and sound - like nothing ever happened. The world goes on and people forget. Except that I can't forget. It happened and because it did, none of us will ever be the same."

  The mood turned somber at her words. "Look, I know this is the last thing either one of you wanted to hear, so why don't I just shut up."

  Weasel knew the thought of killing anything was against Sydney's nature. But having to actually kill another person . . . He pushed back the thoughts and spoke up, "Syd, I know it was worse for you than any of us and I can't blame you for . . . well you know, for being upset. But you've got to remember that you were the victim, Syd."

  "Was I? I don't think so."

  "How can you say that?" Blake interjected. "Zayne was insane. Dangerously insane. He damn near killed you and would have−"

  "If you and Weasel hadn't come to my rescue," she cut in.

  "I was going to say he would have killed me," Blake said. "If you hadn't . . . well, you know."

  "You can say it." She put her hand over his on the table. "If I hadn't killed him. It's okay. I did it and I guess I'm going to have to learn to live with that."

  "Syd, you can't let this drag you down," Blake spoke gently. "Like Weasel said, you were the victim."

  "You don't understand." she looked at him then at Weasel. "I wasn't just the victim. I started this whole mess. Don't you see? I was just like all those people who started hurling accusations and pointing fingers after that bomb went off. Everyone was so eager to blame someone that they just started pointing fingers without any justification whatsoever. I did the same thing. I jumped to my own conclusion without knowing the facts."

  "It's not the same," Weasel argued. "You were basing your suspicions on what Tyler told you. You thought he was telling you the truth. It was natural to come to the conclusion you did. We all did."

  "No." She shook her head. "I let myself jump to the conclusion that Adrian was guilty because it was convenient.”

  “But you were right.” Weasel pointed out. “And because of you everyone in this country is safer. We all could have been under a virtual dictatorship if you hadn’t found Zayne’s journal. That was the key to unraveling the whole ball of yarn.”

  “GW’s right,” Blake added. “If it were not for you this country would still be in the grips of turmoil, people squaring off at one another – some for and some against the new President but everyone angry and the country floundering. We were all being led into something that wasn’t going to be easy to undo and would have been if it hadn’t been for that journal and the evidence it led us too.”

  "Yeah, that’s a real claim to fame I have going there,” she commented. “I brought down the President. Do you have any idea how many people in this country hate me?”

  “Do you have any idea how many people see you as a hero?” GW asked.

  “I’m no hero.”

  “I disagree,” Blake said and even when she made a face, continued. “Look, the truth is, the whole country was shell-shocked by what happened. Something like that - it cuts deep, Syd. Everyone in this country knew that the people in that building were killed by a madman. They just never dreamed that the madman was the man sitting in the Oval Office. No one would ever have thought to imagine that the President would cook up something like this with Zayne, all so he could declare martial law, close our borders, halt travel and basically isolate us from the rest of the world. We were all duped. A guy on the news put it well and said we’d all been living in the territory of lies for a while.”

  “That’s what Tyler said.” She felt sadness wash over her as she thought about the Senator. “I still have a hard time believing all this really happened,” she admitted. “I mean our founding fathers were brilliant. They set up a system that should have been foolproof with all of the checks and balances built in. Three separate but equal branches so that no one branch of government could ever ride roughshod over the others and made such mistakes.”

  “Theoretically, it is foolproof,” GW agreed. “But in this case, if Zane and the Oval had gotten your father under their thumb, they could have controlled the Executive and Legislative Branches and could have pretty much killed democracy in this country.”

  “It boggles the mind,” she said. “And that aspect of things seems to have taken precedent over the lives lost in the bombing. At least in the media.”

  “I disagree,” Blake said. “I know that’s the sensational part of the story, and certainly what has had your photo plastered all of the news, but people haven’t forgotten the bombing or the lives that were lost. I think that wound is still pretty raw. That hit everyone hard. It made us all realize that it could have been us or one of our family. It made us wake up and see that we can't take it for granted that we're safe. It's sad, but true. But it doesn't mean that we have to beat ourselves up or hide under our beds or suspect every person we pass on the street. And we don’t have to be afraid of every person in a position of power. Steps are being taken to insure that this kind of thing doesn't happen again. But right now, all we can do is learn from whatever mistakes we've made and not make the same ones again."

  Sydney stared at him for a moment then suddenly broke out in a smile. "Did anyone ever tell you that you'd make a half-way decent counselor, Mr. Edwards?"

  "Half-way decent?" He raised his eyebrows then pouted. "And that was some of my best stuff,"

  Weasel laughed and stood. "Well, my flight's boarding. You two take care, okay?"

  Sydney stood and hugged him tightly for a long time. "I'm going to miss you," she said with tears in her eyes. "Will you promise to stay in touch?"

  "You know it," he said and gave her a quick kiss then extended his hand to Blake. "It's been real, man."

  Blake took his hand for a second then made a face. "What the hell?" he muttered and gave Weasel a big hug. "You stay out of trouble. But if you do get in over your head, you know where to call."

  Weasel winked and picked up his laptop case. "Yeah, I know. So, I guess I'll see ya."

  Sydney smiled, trying not to cry and waved as Weasel walked off. Blake offered her the handkerchief from his lapel pocket but she shook her head and wiped her eyes with a napkin from the table. "So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?"

  "I'm all yours," he said and took her hand as they left the bar. "How about you?"

  "I have nothing planned until next week. I got a message from a publisher in New York who's interested in my manuscript."

  "That's great!" Blake gave her hand a squeeze. "Maybe we should celebrate. Where would you like to go?"

  "How about home?"

  Blake grinned and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. They passed the airport bookshop and a man stepped out in front of them with his head buried in a magazine. Blake stopped suddenly to keep from running into the man.

  "Oh!" The man looked up. "Excuse me, I'm sorry. I was just−"
he looked down at the magazine then at Sydney. "Hey! It's you! You're her. Adrian Zayne's wife – the lady who took down the President. I was just reading this article about you.”

  He showed them the magazine. Sure enough there was a photo of her, Adrian and the President, taken in Adrian’s hotel suite.

  "No, I'm sorry," Sydney said with a smile. "I'm not Mrs. Zayne."

  "But," the guy looked down at the picture in the magazine. "Well, sorry," the man apologized. "Name's Lou Green. From Chicaco. Sorry I bothered you, miss−"

  "Mrs." She corrected him and smiled up at Blake. "Mrs. Blake Edwards."

  THE END