I watch as she hurries out the door and gets in a black Mercedes that has a driver. The car drives off, and behind it I see a black limo with a driver wearing a red bow tie. I go outside.
The valet approaches me. “Do you need me to call you a car?”
I smile at him. “No. I already have one. Thank you.”
The driver in the limo nods toward the back seat, signaling me to get in. I walk over and open the door and step inside. Once I’m in, I hear the doors lock and we drive away.
“Jack?” I lean forward toward the partition that separates us.
“Don’t talk until we get there.” The voice comes out of a speaker in the back. It kind of sounds like Jack, but I’m not sure if it’s him. I couldn’t see much of the driver’s face because he had his head down and a chauffeur’s hat pulled low over his forehead.
We drive for almost an hour. Wingate’s flight already left and soon Pearce and Garret will be waiting for me at the airport. I need to call Pearce and let him know I won’t be there.
The limo slows down as it approaches a building that looks like a warehouse. A large door, like a garage door, lifts up and we drive inside the building and down a ramp, parking in front of an elevator. It looks like we’re in a parking garage, but there are no other cars here. No people. Nothing.
The driver gets out and opens my door. “Come on.”
I step out of the car and look at him. “Jack?”
He removes his hat. “Yes.” He takes my hand. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”
We go in the elevator and he stares at a panel on the elevator wall and the light on it goes from red to green. Then the elevator begins moving down, and keeps going for what seems like forever. It finally stops and we exit the elevator and Jack leads me down a narrow hall lined in concrete.
“Go ahead,” he says, motioning me into a room at the end of the hall. It’s also lined in concrete.
I cautiously enter the room, with Jack right behind me.
“What is this place?” I ask, feeling a little claustrophobic. It’s a small room and I know it’s deep underground. I feel like we’ll run out of air if we stay here too long.
He doesn’t answer my question. Instead he goes over to a bottle of scotch that’s sitting on the table. There’s nothing in the room but a long metal table and eight metal chairs.
“Would you like a drink?” He holds up one of the two short glasses that were sitting by the scotch.
“No,” I say, even though a drink would help calm my nerves. But I need to stay focused and alert.
He takes a seat at the end of the table, near the scotch. “Sit down.”
I sit next to him and notice I’m shaking again. I don’t like this. I don’t like that he took me to this underground room. The Jack I know wouldn’t do this. Why would he take me here? What is this place?
His hand covers mine. “Rachel. I’m sorry about this, but I didn’t have a choice.”
I pull my hand back. “What’s going on here, Jack? Are you going to hurt me?”
“No. Just the opposite. I’m trying to save you.” He reaches in his shirt pocket and takes out a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and sets it in front of me. It doesn’t say who it’s from. There isn’t much on it. Just a few short phrases. I read what it says.
Grievance against: Member 1479K.
Order: to remove obstacle created by Member 1479K
Obstacle: 35-year-old female, mother of member 1525K
Previous attempts to rectify this matter: several attempts, including private meetings and warning letters; all met with resistance and a refusal to cooperate
Remedy: flight from DC To Hartford
“What does this mean?” I ask Jack, holding up the sheet of paper. “Is this about me?”
“Yes. They were going to kill you on today’s flight.”
I suck in a breath, then swallow. “Who’s ‘they’?”
“I’ll explain in a moment. But for now, you need to see this.” Jack takes something out of his suit jacket. It looks like a cell phone with a very large screen. He sets it in front of me. “I can’t get television reception down here, but this is what was airing on the news just now. I recorded this when we were in the car.”
He taps the screen and a video begins playing. A reporter holding a microphone is standing in a grassy field. Off in the distance I see a fire burning, black smoke filling the air. Fire and rescue trucks are lined up next to it.
“According to witnesses,” the reporter says, “the plane nosedived into the field soon after takeoff. It’s believed everyone on board died on impact. Senator Wingate was accompanied by his press secretary and two speech writers. Also on board was Rachel Kensington, wife of billionaire businessman, Pearce Kensington.”
I cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh my God.”
The reporter continues. “Mrs. Kensington had just attended Senator Wingate’s speech. It’s not yet clear why she was on the plane. Records show that she was already booked on a commercial flight leaving later tonight.”
The video ends and I slide the phone back toward Jack. “All those people are dead? Wingate? His staff? The pilot?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“And…me?” I grab Jack’s arm. “People think I’m dead? Pearce? Garret?”
“Yes.”
“Jack, we need to tell them! I can’t let them think—”
“I’ll tell them, but not right now. For now, this is how it has to be. Everyone has to think that you’re dead. They planned this, and if they knew you were alive, they’d try to kill you again. And next time, they’d make sure they succeeded.”
“You keep saying ‘they.’ Who’s ‘they’?”
“The people who made the order.” He points to the sheet of paper.
I pick it up again. “I don’t understand. What’s Member 1479?”
“It’s a membership number.”
“Membership in what? What are you talking about?”
“The organization. It’s a secret society. Every member has a number.”
Secret society? I know secret societies exist. They have for hundreds of years. I learned about them in my history studies. But why would a secret society be trying to kill me?
My hands are shaking as I clutch the paper. “Who’s 1479?”
He pauses, then says, “Pearce.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
23
RACHEL
My eyes dart up to Jack’s, my heart pounding. “What are you saying, Jack?”
“Pearce is a member of the organization. It’s a secret society that has been around for hundreds of years. I am also a member.”
I quickly shake my head. “No. That’s not true.”
“Rachel, I wouldn’t lie about this. I have no reason to. This group exists and your husband is part of it.”
My eyes return to the paper. “Who’s 1525?”
He looks down, then back up at me. “Garret.”
I slam the paper down on the table. “My son is not a member of anything! He’s just a little boy!”
“Yes, but someday he’ll be a member, like Pearce. Membership is passed to sons. Holton is also a member.”
“No. This can’t be right.” I take a breath, but it hurts to breathe. My chest is tight, like I can’t get any air in. “If Pearce was part of a secret society, I would know. He couldn’t keep a secret like that from me.”
“He can and he did. He has for years. He couldn’t tell you. If he did, he’d be punished. And you’d be killed.”
“Stop it!” I shove up from the chair, the metal legs scraping against the concrete floor. “Stop saying these things! This is absurd! Are you drunk? Or on some kind of drug?”
“It’s the truth, Rachel.” He leans back in his chair. “All these years, didn’t you wonder why he sometimes suddenly left late at night?”
“He had to go to work.”
“He didn’t go to the office. He was doing an assignment.”
“What ass
ignment? What does that mean?”
“We’re given assignments.” He takes a drink of his scotch. “You might want to sit down for this.”
I return to my seat and Jack tells me what these assignments are. When he’s done, I feel like I might throw up. My stomach feels sick and my throat is burning as I fight back tears.
“Pearce would never hurt anyone.”
“He isn’t given a choice. None of us are. So to live with ourselves, we have to pretend it’s not us. We have to separate ourselves from our actions. The Pearce you know is not the Pearce who does these things. It’s someone else. Someone he would never let you see.”
“What if he told them no?”
“They would punish him. Hurt him. Hurt you. Or kidnap your son.”
“No! This isn’t true. It can’t be!”
“I’m sorry, Rachel, but it is.”
“Why do they make Pearce do these things?”
Jack explains the purpose of the assignments. He tells me about how this secret group tries to control things. Politics. The economy. Major industries.
I’m listening, but finding it difficult to believe. This can’t possibly be real. But Jack is very serious, so maybe this group really does exist.
“I’m sure from your history studies you learned about secret societies,” he says.
“Yes. But generally, the purpose of such groups is to help their members get ahead in their careers. Network with the right people. Get access to top positions in politics and business.”
“Our group does that as well. But we also do other things.”
“Like manipulate the outcome of political elections.”
He nods. “Yes.”
“How do they not get caught?”
“We have people planted on the inside. People placed within the government, law enforcement, financial institutions, major corporations. Some of these people are members. Some aren’t. Senator Wingate wasn’t a member, but he was working for us on the inside.”
“And if people find out about this group, they’re hurt. Or…killed.”
He nods again. “Yes.”
“Pearce is NOT part of this! This group you’re talking about is evil. Pearce is not evil. He doesn’t hurt people. He’s kind. And loving. A good father. A good husband.”
Tears break free from my eyes as my emotions overwhelm me. Anger. Sadness. Disappointment. They all hit me at once, and I know the reason I’m feeling this way is because part of me believes everything Jack is telling me. It would explain why Pearce acted the way he did. Why he’d sometimes have to leave suddenly, saying he forgot to do something at work. He’d come home later and be quiet and withdrawn, completely different than when he left. Or sometimes he’d get a call on his work phone and I’d see his expression change. He’d look worried, almost panicked. Then he’d hug Garret or me really tight, tighter than normal. And sometimes he’d look really sad for no particular reason. I thought it was just his personality. He had a horrible childhood, so I thought maybe those memories haunted him sometimes, filling him with sadness.
For years I found ways to explain his behavior, all reasons that made sense to me. Never in a million years would I have thought Pearce was part of some secret society. Why would I? It’s crazy! The thought hadn’t even entered my head.
“You saved him, Rachel,” Jack says. “Before you met him, Pearce had nothing to live for. His father treated him like shit. He worked nonstop. And he was forced to be part of this group. He hates being part of it. He would do anything to get out, but he can’t.”
“What about our son? What about Garret?”
“Pearce and I have been trying to find a way to get him out of his obligation. We’ve both been talking to the other members, seeing who else wants to get their sons out before it’s too late.”
“When is it too late?”
“Once they’re initiated as members, they can’t get out. Initiation usually happens when a man is 20 or 21.”
“Garret is 10. Twenty isn’t that far away.”
“Let Pearce and I worry about that. For now, we need to worry about you. If everything worked as planned, the organization now assumes that you’re dead.”
“Why do they want me dead?”
“Because Pearce married you. A member’s wife is supposed to be chosen for him and the woman’s father is usually a member. So when he broke tradition and secretly married you, the organization was furious.”
I think back to when Pearce and I were dating. He kept trying to hide our relationship. And his parents were so angry when they met me, as if he shouldn’t be with me. And our elopement. It was so sudden. Pearce was so insistent that we had to get married that weekend. I found it odd that he was in such a hurry, but he said if we didn’t, his parents would try to interfere. Now I know why. It’s all piecing together and finally making sense.
“When they found out what he had done,” Jack says, “Pearce thought for sure they’d force him to divorce you, but they didn’t. Instead, they told Pearce he would be punished, but he wasn’t told what the punishment would be or when it would happen. The plane crash today was his punishment.”
“That note you showed me said there were meetings and warning letters. Is that true?”
“No. They only put that in there to justify their actions. There was one meeting that occurred right after your wedding in Vegas. During that meeting, they told Pearce he would be punished, but they never told him he had to divorce you. In fact, they were the ones who planned the March wedding.”
This is all too much to take in. The lies. The secrets. I don’t know if I believe Jack. Or trust him.
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?” I ask. “You could’ve just made up those words on that piece of paper. Maybe YOU’RE the one who doesn’t want me to be with Pearce. Maybe you’re just trying to get rid of me.”
He huffs in anger. “I would NEVER do that! I know how much Pearce loves you. I know how happy you’ve made him. I’m doing this so that you two can be together again. If I’d let you get on that plane, you’d be dead. You saw the news footage. I saved your life, Rachel.”
I nod, realizing he’s right. I keep telling myself that video wasn’t real. But it was. I saw it with my own eyes.
Jack slides the cell phone back over to me. “I didn’t want to show you this, but since you don’t seem to believe me, you should probably see it. I recorded this last night. Leland Seymour was at Wingate’s party. I asked him if we could talk privately so we went up to his hotel suite and had some drinks.”
Jack presses the screen and another video appears. It shows Leland and Jack talking. They’re standing by a tall table that looks like a bar, with liquor bottles and glasses. They both have drinks in their hands.
“Why are you here?” Jack asks him. “You’re not supposed to be at this event.”
“You know I’ve always been a fan of Senator Wingate. I like his obstinate attitude. It’s refreshing.” Leland takes a swig of his drink.
“And yet it’s going to get him killed,” Jack says. “I assume that’s why you’re here.”
“You can only fight them for so long. You know that, Jack. As his handler, you should’ve warned him.”
“As his handler, someone should’ve told me the goddamn plan!”
“We couldn’t.” Leland takes another drink. “You’re too close to the target.”
“I’m not close to Wingate. I rarely even talk to him. I watch him from afar.”
“I’m not referring to Wingate.” Leland sets his glass down on the bar. “I’m referring to the other target.”
Jack pauses, then says, “Does this have to do with Pearce?”
Leland laughs. “Pearce. He’s completely naive. An ignorant optimist. Thinking he could marry that woman and get away with it.”
Jack is quiet, his expression blank. Then he says, “You’re right. Pearce never should’ve married her. I tried to tell him that many times, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He’s a goddamn fool. An
d now he’ll lose his life over it.”
“Not him. His wife.” Leland pulls a sheet of paper from his suit jacket and hands it to Jack. It looks like the piece of paper Jack showed me.
Jack puts his glass down and reads what’s written on the paper. “So this is Pearce’s punishment? It’s about damn time they did something. How long have they been planning this?”
“Since right after his fake wedding.”
“That was years ago. Why the hell did they wait so long?”
Leland picks up his drink. “That, my friend, is confidential. I’ve already told you more than I should. I trust you won’t use this information to betray us, Jack.” Leland stares at him, a slight grin on his face.
Jack walks to the door, the piece of paper still in his hand. “Goodnight, Leland.”
The video ends and Jack takes his phone back. “When I was questioning him, I had no idea about the plan they had for you. I recorded Leland just in case he told me something he shouldn’t, and surprisingly he did. But I thought he’d tell me about Wingate, not you.”
“They wanted to kill me this whole time?” I feel breathless as I say the words. I feel like my lungs keep constricting, leaving me struggling for air. “How was all this going on and I didn’t know about it?”
“They’re good at hiding their secrets, even among their own members. They hid it from me. They hid it from Pearce. I’m sure only a very small number of people knew this. Usually, an assignment like this would involve a committee of members because it’s much more complicated than a traditional assignment. And obviously, Leland Seymour was on that committee.”
“Why Leland? Why is he involved?”
“Leland is a member. He owns MDX Aerodynamics. They make airplane engines and parts. If the organization wants to rig a plane to go down, Leland is the one they talk to. He’s taken down planes in the past and I’m sure he took this one down as well.”
Protecting Her Page 26
