by David Archer
Duckworth frowned. “Yeah, I guess I do. Still, I guess Andrews was going to have to deal with it, too, right? It’s all part of making the Project work.”
“Well, Andrews had Perkowski,” Perkins said. “He was gonna be the guy in the hot seat, writing the bill to subjugate the Bill of Rights and putting it before Congress. All Andrews had to do was be ready to step into his role when the Ascension Council was formed. Now, with him gone, it’s all gonna fall on whoever steps into those shoes, and right now, they’re trying to make that guy be you. If it turns out that way, you and I will end up spending a lot of time together. I’ll have to introduce you to the Russians, things like that.”
“So, wait a minute,” Duckworth said, trying to sound like he didn’t quite understand. “Are you saying that the top guy now is not going to be the head of the Council? I thought that was the whole point of being the project leader, to get that spot.”
Perkins laughed. “You sly old dog,” he said. “Yes, if you get the top spot now, you keep it for life, council and all. You had me going for a minute there, old buddy. I was starting to think you didn’t really want all that power, but you’re just like the rest of us, aren’t you?”
Duckworth forced himself to chuckle. “Hey, just wanted to keep my humble image, right? Of course I want the job, if I can get it.”
“That’s what I wanted to know,” Perkins said. “that’s not a problem. I’ll go ahead and throw my weight behind you, too, and I think we can make it happen.”
“I appreciate it, Bill,” Duckworth said. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”
“I wouldn’t miss it to save my life,” Perkins said. “Talk to you then.”
The line went dead and Duckworth slowly replaced the handset. He sat there and stared at it for a moment, then put his hands over his face. Images of the many times Bill Perkins had been there for him over the years went through his mind as his tears began to flow.
* * * * *
Edgar Mikesell was on his way to brief the new president with Wilbur Benton when the stress got the better of him. He leaned over toward Benton and whispered, “What do you know about this meeting tonight? All I heard is we’re going to talk about who’s going to take over for Andrews, now that Perkowski is gone.”
Benton glanced toward the chauffeurs compartment, but the divider window was tightly closed. “I heard the same thing,” he said softly. “Word is that some of the members want to tap Duckworth for the job. They think his reputation in the Senate will help him handle everything when it all starts to go down, and that he’s got the kind of temperament we need at the top of the Council.”
Mikesell nodded. “Duckworth is a good man,” he said. “I’ve had to go to him for favors in the past, and he’s always come through. Personally, I think the guy is just about fearless, which he’d have to be if he accepts that position. Good God, it would be like putting a target over your face.”
“Sure seems that way,” Benton said. “What I can’t figure out is who could possibly have gotten our names. I can’t believe we have a traitor in our midst, but it almost seems like the only possibility.”
“I don’t find it all that hard to believe. All it takes is one of us to let a few names slip, or talk too much about what we’re trying to do, and then, of course, you got Borden. Poor guy was obviously tortured, so there’s no telling how many of us he gave up.”
“Yeah. Poor bastard.”
“What a way to go,” Mikesell said. “I heard he was damn near skinned alive.”
* * * * *
At three o’clock in the afternoon, Noah and the team climbed into the minivan and Sarah drove them out toward Duckworth’s farm. Noah wanted to get some familiarity with the place before the excitement began, so they went to reconnoiter.
The drive took about forty-five minutes, but they found the place with no problem. Once they had it located, they begin cruising around the area and planning a strategy for the attack.
“We need to park this thing somewhere and get closer to the house,” Noah said. “The whole estate seems to be surrounded by woods, there ought to be somewhere we can leave the car out of sight.”
They found a spot just a short distance from Duckworth’s property. Someone had apparently started to cut a driveway into the woods, but it was grown over with weeds and small brush. Noah told Sarah to drive into it, and they found that it curved so that the van was invisible from the road.
With the trees for cover, they exited the vehicle and moved quietly through the woods and into Duckworth’s land. The trees showed signs of cultivation, and it was easy to move through them even though they were fairly dense. Noah carried the Paratus rifle, fully assembled, while everyone else had their handguns out and ready.
It took them nearly fifteen minutes to get through the woods so they could get a good look at the house. It was a large, somewhat rambling old farmhouse, one that had probably been originally built sometime in the early or mid eighteen hundreds. It looked to be in excellent condition, though, and Noah suspected it had been renovated many times in its history.
There were no signs of life around the place at all, so they jogged across the intervening lawn until they got close to the house. They split up then, with Neil and Sarah staying close to the house while Noah, Marco, and Jenny checked out the outbuildings.
The place was completely deserted, so Noah had Marco slip the lock on the back door so they could get inside. They all hurried in and closed the door behind them, and then began carefully searching through the house. It took only a few minutes for Marco to find the circuit breaker box, and he quickly deactivated the security lights that were mounted outside. Once that was done, they all familiarized themselves with the layout of the house.
It was Noah who first found the library, a massive room lined with bookshelves and with four large sofas and almost a dozen chairs.
“If I were holding a meeting like this,” he said to the others, “this is where I would put everybody. A couple of dozen people could sit in here, and I’m sure they could bring in more chairs from the dining room if they needed to.”
“I think you’re right,” Marco said. “It would make sense, anyway.”
“All right, we’ll use that as our working hypothesis. Now we need to figure out the best way to surprise them.”
“Hide in the closets?” Neil asked. “I mean, they probably wouldn’t be expecting that, right?”
“That’s not actually that bad an idea,” Noah said. “Sarah, I want you and Neil to go upstairs. Find a hiding place big enough for both of you and get into it. Keep your guns out and handy, and listen for me to call you.”
Sarah looked at him for a moment and bit her bottom lip, but then nodded. “Come on, Neil,” she said. “Let’s go find somewhere to get comfortable for a while.”
“Yeah, and let the grown-ups deal with all this crap,” Neil said, rolling his eyes as he followed her.
Noah looked at Jenny. “There’s a hall closet that seems to be full of winter coats. Get yourself in behind them and wait for the fun to start.”
“You got it,” she said. She disappeared into the closet and pulled it shut behind her. They could hear rustling for a couple of seconds, but then it stopped.
“Marco,” Noah said, “there’s a closet off the dining room, looks like it was used for storing serving dishes, utensils, that sort of thing. It’s got some boxes in it, but I think there’s room for you to get down behind them.”
“On my way,” Marco said. It took him a moment to rearrange a couple of things, but then Noah shut the door for him as he sat on the floor behind boxes of neatly packed dishes.
Noah went to the parlor at the front of the house and sat down in a chair, looking out toward the driveway. He made himself comfortable and waited. According to everything Neil had been able to learn, Senator Marvin Duckworth lived here alone, ever since his wife passed away four years earlier. If he brought anyone home with him, Noah wanted to know it.
It had been close
to five by the time everyone was hidden away, and Noah expected Duckworth to come in sometime after six. He was surprised when he heard gravel crunching at just after five thirty, and looked up to see Duckworth’s Cadillac Escalade just pulling up in the circular driveway.
He sat still and watched, but Duckworth stepped out of the vehicle alone. He walked unconcernedly up the big front steps and onto the porch, holding a key in his hand as he approached the front door. Noah waited until he had closed the door behind him before getting up out of his chair and stepping into the foyer.
“Senator Duckworth,” he said, and the old man almost fell over.
“Good heavens,” Duckworth said. “Who the hell are you?”
“Camelot,” Noah said. “I was told you invited me to attend your meeting tonight.”
Duckworth was leaning with one hand against the wall, the other hand pressed against his chest. “Oh, my God, you almost scared me to death. Forgive me, but I just wasn’t really expecting to find you standing inside my house. Are you alone?”
“My team is here, hidden away. I just wanted to talk with you for a few minutes before this begins.”
Duckworth glared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s go in there and sit down.” He indicated the parlor Noah had just come from.
Once they were seated in chairs facing each other, Duckworth reached up and loosened his tie. “All right,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”
“Some questions,” Noah said. “First, do you know how many people will be coming?”
“Not exactly, no. I’m anticipating between sixteen and twenty-five, but that’s only a guess.”
“And you will be holding your meeting in your library?”
Duckworth nodded. “That’s where I conduct a lot of business,” he said. “Especially if it involves any group of people.”
“Good. Of the people that you know are coming, how many of them are definitely on your side, against letting the Ascension Project reach its goal?”
“The only ones I’m certain of are Senator Holloway, Senator Thomason, Senator Ryan, Congressman Gibbs, and Congresswoman Whitehall. There may actually be a few others, but I’m not aware of them.”
Noah nodded. “I’ll know Holloway, Ryan, and Gibbs when I see them,” he said. “Thomason and Whitehall are not names I’ve heard before. Could you manage to keep the two of them right next to you? Considering the risks that all of you have taken to bring this organization down, I don’t want to take a chance on accidentally harming any of you.”
“Yeah, I can do that. Thomason won’t be hard to spot, he’s about six foot four and almost eighty years old. Brenda Whitehall is also very tall, like six foot one, I think. Blonde hair that she keeps very short, you should be able to spot her, as well.”
“All right, got it. Now, with the others, do you know of any of them who would have extensive information about the events they’ve been planning?”
“Well, there are two specific ones that I know were involved in setting them up. Edgar Mikesell is one of them, and the other is Herschel Robinette. I suspect Wilbur Benton and Charlotte Willamette, as well, but I’m not absolutely certain.”
“And what about the Russian situation? Who would know most about that?”
“It’s funny,” Duckworth said, “but I didn’t have any idea about that until today. Senator William Perkins; there are probably others as well, but I know that he knows who’s involved on their side, at least the top levels. This meeting, believe it or not, is so that the remaining members can decide who’s going to be put in charge of completing the project, and a particular idiot named Dick Martin has nominated me for the job. Perkins told me today that, if I get it, he’ll be the one to introduce me to our Russian counterparts.”
Noah cocked his head slightly to the right and looked closely at Duckworth. “You must’ve done a good job as a double agent,” he said. “Most of the time, they try to keep a low profile and avoid any sort of recognition.”
“Yeah, well, this certainly wasn’t an honor I went looking for. Now, can I ask you something?”
“Yes. Go ahead.”
“Are you going to kill them all?”
“I expect to, yes. My orders were to eliminate all genuine conspirators involved in the Ascension Project, by which I mean those who were actually adhering to its ideals.”
Duckworth made a sour face and shook his head. “I understand the necessity,” he said. “I just hate the thought of all that blood in my house. This place has been in my family for five generations, and this will be an extremely dark day in its history.”
“I’m curious,” Noah said. “Considering how you feel about that, why did you choose this location for the meeting?”
Duckworth shrugged. “First, I figured it would be better here than someplace where innocent bystanders might get in the way. Second, inviting them into my home would be less likely to arouse suspicion. Don’t get me wrong, I completely agreed with going to Allison and asking her to bring you into this, but I feel the guilt of every death it has caused. Even a traitor’s death weighs heavy on my soul, when I know that it came from the decision I made.”
Noah looked at him for another moment, then nodded slowly. “Of course,” he said. “Many of these people have been your friends and coworkers for years. I think it’s only natural that you feel remorse over the action you were forced to take, but you need to remind yourself that they are the ones who set out to betray our country. No matter how altruistic their motives might be, stripping the American people of their constitutional rights is treason of the highest order. By accepting the responsibility of putting a stop to their plans, you are demonstrating yourself to be a genuine patriot. You are as much a hero, sir, as the soldier who stands between us and our enemies, but you’ll have to come to accept that for yourself.”
Duckworth shook his head. “As I said, I understood the necessity, but I really don’t feel like much of a hero, Mr. Camelot.”
Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
Duckworth looked at his watch. “They’ll be arriving shortly,” he said. “That’s an impressive rifle you’ve got, but I think you might want to have it out of sight before these people start coming through the door. One look at that, and they’re going to know who you are. And frankly, most of them are downright terrified of you already.”
“That’s good,” Noah said. “The more afraid they are, the more inclined they will be to talk. Could you suggest a place for me to hide until they’re all here?”
Duckworth’s eyebrows went up. “Hide? Is there any possibility that any of these folks know what you look like?”
“I highly doubt it. My appearance is a very closely guarded secret.”
“Damn, I wonder why. Oh, never mind, that’s just an old man being sarcastic. Still, if you put that rifle away somewhere, I don’t think you need to hide at all. As you say, it’s very doubtful any of these people have any clue who you are or what you look like. All I’ve got to do is say you’re my nephew, visiting for a few days. Any of these folks who know me are fully aware that I have several nephews who occasionally come to visit me.”
Noah nodded. “All right,” he said. “I want to keep the rifle close to me, so where is a good place to put it so that I can reach it in a hurry from the library?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Duckworth said. “Follow me.”
Noah followed Duckworth into the library and pointed to a pair of hooks on one wall. “I sometimes keep a rifle of my own right there,” the old man said. “Just hang it up there, and no one will even pay attention to it.”
Noah nodded, and lifted the rifle up and set it on the hooks. The Paratus was a nice-looking weapon, and looked right at home hanging on the wall.
“That’s perfect,” Noah said. “Now, the rest of my team is hidden in the house. They’ll come out when everything starts. They’ll hear me fire the first few shots, and they’ll come in a hurry. Each of them is armed, and will be ready to fire. How many of your gu
ests do you expect will be armed?”
Duckworth pulled away his own jacket so Noah could see the snubnosed revolver he kept clipped to his belt. “Probably all of them,” he said. “There are enough whack jobs out there who hate all politicians that most of us have decided to be responsible for our own self-defense. Some of them might even try to draw their weapons, but most probably won’t. If you come at them quickly, they’ll probably be too scared to even remember they have a weapon.”
“That’s certainly possible, but if you can think of any who would be likely to draw and fire, it would help.”
Duckworth seemed to be thinking about it. “Wilbur Benton. Robert Chambers. Ed Mikesell, he definitely will try. I’m sorry, I just don’t know most of them that well, and there will be some people that I might not even know at all.”
“Benton and Mikesell I can recognize. What does Chambers look like?”
Duckworth grinned. “If I had to describe Robert Chambers, I’d have to say he looks like that actor from that TV show, can’t think of the name of it. The one about FBI profilers? He looks like the Italian guy.”
Noah nodded. “That’ll work. Now, is there anything you need to do before your guests start to arrive?”
“I guess I could set up the big coffee urn,” Duckworth said. “That would probably be something I would do if this was a legitimate meeting.”
“I’ll help you, Uncle Marvin,” Noah said.
He followed Duckworth into the kitchen, where he found a sixty-cup coffee urn and used a pan to fill it with water, then put its filter basket in place and poured in coffee grounds. It was sitting on a wheeled cart, and they pushed it back to the library before plugging it in and turning it on.
It wasn’t long before the aroma of coffee was filling the room.
* * * * *
The first car to pull in arrived a few minutes before seven. Clarence Gibbs got out from behind the wheel, with Barbara Holloway stepping out from the passenger side. Duckworth went to the door to let them in.
