Room 1515

by Bill Wetterman

  “Keep him alive. Ursa will deal with him,” Peacock said.

  As if by magic, Ursa appeared in the blown in doorway.

  “Yes, I will,” he said. “Good work.”

  “We lost Alcor.” Peacock’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry.”

  “When Vega heard the name Lytle, I decided to come in,” Ursa said. “I’m sorry as well. Alcor was a brave man. Our country will bury him proudly.”

  “I think someone broke my collarbone,” she said.

  A man walked past Ursa, placed his hand atop her shoulder, and felt around for some time. With one quick jerk, her shoulder popped into place as she screamed again.

  “There,” the man said. “You’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

  “I’d better be,” she said, rubbing her shoulder, with tears running down her face. “I’m to be married in three.” She turned to Ursa. “Who’s Lytle?”

  Ursa frown. “Lytle is one of the most brutal terrorists alive.”

  Chapter 13

  “Mother, I’m home. I know it’s a surprise. But I had to tell someone about my good fortune.”

  Arthur Pendleton stretched his arms out wide to embrace his mother, Anne. She stood two steps up on her front porch. Pendleton, feet still on the limestone earth, pulled her face-to-face and twirled her around, setting her down on the ground.

  “I’m in love.”

  Anne Upjohn-Pendleton, her father a Welshman, raised her sons and daughter here southeast of Trowbridge in Wiltshire County. They lived in a small house in wool country famous for Stonehenge and the Avon Vale, the land where Arthur Pendragon, King Arthur of Camelot fame, allegedly died in the Battle of Mons Badonicus. They say allegedly because no one really knows if there even was a battle here, or a King Arthur.

  “Come inside,” Anne said. “It may be summer, but there’s a chill in the air.”

  His mother’s dark eyes smiled up at him. So much of her heritage came from her father, a dark, curly-haired laborer with a temper yet a gentle hand. She was trim and short. She was spirited. But Pendleton looked like his father reincarnate.

  He did as his mother instructed and tromped up the three stone steps and into the house.

  “A little quick, this talk of love.”

  “It’s not like I just fell for some skirt, Mum.” He pecked her on the cheek and sniffed the soup she had simmering on the stove. “Laverna Smythe is the image of a goddess from the past.”

  He reached for the spoon, but Anne slapped his hand and waved him away from the stove. “The soup will be ready in about twenty-minutes. You always time your visits properly.”

  “And you always have good food only twenty-ticks away from being served.”

  His brother, Ian, lived on the adjacent property, having bought the land three years prior. Still he came over to Mum’s for dinner every night. Ian was courting a young lady, but hadn’t popped the question yet.

  After dinner and after Ian left, Arthur and his mother relaxed on the back porch with a strong cup of tea and talked.

  “So what of this princess of yours?” Anne’s face wrinkled with doubt.

  “An American.”

  “In God’s name, you couldn’t choose a nice Welsh girl, or Scottish lass?”

  “Now, now, Lovey is the one. She’s intelligent, gorgeous, and runs with the right people.” He took Anne’s hand in his. “No ordinary girl could put up with the life I lead. This one can. Her life is as filled with mystery and complexity as mine is.”

  “I know you. Once you make up your mind, there is no stopping you anyway.” She smiled at him and squeezed his hand lovingly. “You’ve proven me wrong, Son. You’ve achieved far more than I ever imagined possible. I can’t argue with success. It’s too bad your father didn’t live to see this day. But! A mother still frets.”

  “Don’t. Your grandchildren will outdistance even me with Lovey as their mum.”

  The night sky shown clear and the sound of the grasses rustling brought fond memories, memories of days playing with his friends in the fields around the area. Thoughts of waving goodbye to his dad as he oft to the mills in Trowbridge twenty kilometers to the northwest caused his lips to quiver. An accident at the mill when Arthur was only thirteen took Liam Pendleton’s life. The compensation settlement provided the means for Arthur to attend the most prestigious school in England and build his career.

  For hours, he bent his mum’s ear about his sweet Lovey. Told her of the date of the wedding and the arrangements he’d planned. That frightened Anne to the quick. “I’m not meant to hobnob with the blue bloods. Keep my role small. I’ll attend, curtsy, kiss the bride, and be off the next day. Meeting the prime minister, going to Crathie Kirk in Aberdeen, my, my, my.”

  Later Pendleton strolled down to the banks of Kelsey Creek, dry now with the rainy season still two months away. A multitude of stars sprinkled the sky with light. A grey quarter-moon hovered on the western horizon. He made a call to his bodyguards housed with a friend four kilometers to the south to tell them to set up their nocturnal vigil.

  He’d risen so fast on the world scene. Only four pieces needed to fall into place, and he’d be able to put an end to poverty and war. The first piece was replacing Eric Throgmorton. He had considered that second in importance until Claymore showed increased interest in him. With Eric out of the way and Claymore on his side, his plans could move swiftly.

  Second, bring the American military might under his control. He gazed up at the stars. Maybe the American people would remove Monroe before he had to assassinate him. Rioters had burned and destroyed the downtowns of many American cities. He raised his arms to God in hope.

  The sooner the American military moved into line, the sooner he could destroy the religious fanatics and isolate the Chinese into economic submission, the third piece in his puzzle.

  The most important fourth piece was eight years in the planning already and seventy percent complete. Pendleton selected this team his third year out of Cambridge. Their job: to organize a plan to transition the world from chaos to peace within the structure of a world government and to develop a plan to reverse the damage done by greed to the environment.

  He grabbed a reed and yanked the plant out of its hold on the bank of the Kelsey. Even without his watch, he knew it was midnight straight up. “Can you imagine, Dad,” he asked, looking up at the sky, “how close we are to our dreams?”

  #

  Morning came and Pendleton was off, but before he left he held his mother close on the front stoop. “Two weeks, Mum, and you’ll have a daughter-in-law. You’ll love her. I know you will.”

  His mother smiled. “You’re besting the best in this troubled world, Son. I have faith in you. But remember, your Lovey can aid you in your quest, or she can destroy your kingdom, like Helen of Troy.”

  Pendleton kissed her cheek and walked down to his car. “She’ll exceed my expectations. Watch and see.”

  #

  “She’ll have a wedding fit for Queen Victoria,” Pendleton said, and pointed at Hans Van Meer, his best man. “I tell you old friend. She’s a magnificent find. I’ve never met someone so perfect for me.”

  Van Meer frowned. “Is this wise, Arthur?” He walked to Pendleton’s office window and peered out at King’s Row. “It’s too soon if you ask me.”

  “Now old boy, she’s been thoroughly screened, comes out squeaky clean.” He pushed away from his curved, glass-top desk. “I’m getting older. I can’t waste time. Plus, she’s useful with all her Washington connections.”

  “Maybe?” Then a thin smile cracked Van Meer’s lips. “I’m happy for you. With what we’re planning to do, history may not be kind to us. Save for your elegant choice of a mate.”

  Pendleton chuckled. “You’re full of crap.”

  “But pleasant crap, don’t you think?”

  “Tell me again why Reed’s man, Lytle, isn’t coming. I’d like to meet him.”

  “There have been several bloody encounters, shall we say, between our boys and the
Herculeans.” Van Meer huffed. “We assassinated Nash’s betrayer girlfriend. We’re unfortunately behind on the body count. Correction, our Georgian boys are.”

  “Nash? Yes, yes, the missing lobbyist. Go on.”

  “Lytle sent a team of three to support the Georgians and protect their inside man at the Emerald. We actually captured a female Herculean.”

  “Bravo, old boy.”

  “Save the Bravo.” Van Meer shrugged. “How the Herculeans found where those boys took her bothers me. But right in the middle of our interrogation, they burst in. The woman and Lytle survived. He’s been bruised in the scuffle and dislocated his arm escaping up a laundry chute.”

  Pendleton tried to hold back laughter. The visual in his head was hysterical, up a laundry chute indeed. “Seems to me some of these firefights are like seeing how far you can piss up a tree. I kill two, so you kill three, and so on.”

  Van Meer grinned as well. “I know. It’s abhorrently funny. I prefer quick kills with no trace. But Hercules figured out a way to track the Georgian agents. Our boys searched the Herculean woman while she was out. They found nothing but great tits.”

  “Well, leave all that to Reed.” He patted his friend on the shoulder. “My role is orchestrating the financial collapse of the United States and the control of its military by the W.F.C. On that front I have news.”

  He pulled out a copy of the London Times. The headlines in the political section read, Could the Independent Conservative Party send the U.S. Presidential Election to the House of Representatives?

  “Is that possible?”

  “My research says it’s likely.” Pendleton nodded. “That changes our strategy somewhat, and Reed needs to know.”

  “How so?”

  “The objective is putting Russell into the presidency. The U.S. Constitution requires that if no president is elected in the Electoral College. The Senate elects the Vice President. With Republicans controlling the Senate, Edmunds will get reelected.”

  Van Meer dropped his hands into his pockets.

  Poor bloke isn’t getting this.

  “The president is then elected in the House of Representatives. But in the House, each state has one vote. In that scenario, the Democrat, Russell, can beat Monroe, and we may not need to assassinate anyone.”

  Pendleton mused aloud. “Although Russell hasn’t committed to putting U.S. military under U.N. oversight, Edmunds would be in a position to persuade him.”

  A knock on Pendleton’s door interrupted their talk.

  “Sir, Ms. Smythe’s private jet is an hour from Aberdeen/Dyce Airport. It’s time to head to Scotland.”

  “Right you are.”

  #

  Day 526

  Peacock’s shoulder still ached from her encounter at the Bristol Hotel. But today her wedding took the forefront. The thought of being with Pendleton seemed curiously pleasant. Felicia Lange, her maid-of-honor, slept in the seat next to her as the captain announced their descent into Aberdeen, Scotland. She fondled the wedding ring she’d purchased for her husband to be, watching it sparkle in the light, a platinum band with seven inset blue diamonds. The inscription inside a Roman cross read, Ic lufie pë. I love you in Old English.

  The American taxpayer was blind to the fact that they paid for everything she had or did. She’d made a visit to her mansion in Maryland, so when Pendleton visited there, she’d be familiar with the grounds and the names of the staff.

  He’d been gracious in granting her request for a small, but opulent wedding. She picked out and purchased her dress and those for her party. Her violet gown trailed three feet along the floor as she walked. Her bridesmaids would dress in purple gowns—also long and flowing. Polaris had played over one hundred traditional wedding pieces for her. She chose “Trumpet Voluntary” as both her entrance and exit processional.

  The rest of the wedding was compliments of the Royal Windsor family, although none would attend. The church was Crathie Kirk in Aberdeen, steeped in tradition and small enough not to draw heavy crowds. Balmoral Castle and its staff of fifty fulltime employees were theirs for the honeymoon week with the best wishes of the King of England.

  Her Arthur had taken every precaution so as not to shed light on whom she was. Her face would not be spread over the front page of the London Times.

  “We’ve landed, Lovey,” Felicia said, interrupting Peacock’s train of thought. She leaned against Peacock’s arm and whispered. “May Jesus protect you, and may God bless you. Our missions are different and you’ve drawn the rockiest road.”

  Peacock tensed. Those words could have easily been said by her mother. She raised her daughter to love God. But now Peacock didn’t believe in God. If God existed, He didn’t like her anyway.

  #

  Fifteen minutes before his wife-to-be was to arrive, Pendleton made the final inspection with the church officials and initialed his approval of the arrangements. As the motorcade pulled up in front of Crathie Kirk, he swallowed time and time again in anticipation. He longed to see Lovey. His wife would be the cornerstone of his future achievements. As she learned the correct protocol, he’d elevate her to a power almost as respected as his own.

  The first to disembark from the procession of Bentleys was General George Ruttman, now Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Alex Gordon, the United States Ambassador to the United Nations, and Lovey’s best man, followed him.

  She does run in the highest circles of the U.S. elite, Pendleton thought. With her money, he wasn’t surprised. He greeted these dignitaries with due respect, but his heart longed to see her.

  Two beauties disembarked from a second car. Two bridesmaids Pendleton presumed.

  “Delightful to have you here,” he said.

  They stared at him as though he were a god. Amusing, but the very reason he’d picked Laverna. He recognized her for the goddess she was. She viewed him as an equal, god or not.

  Finally, Peacock disembarked and promptly followed Van Meer into the church, as another bridesmaid, a gorgeous black woman, walked up to him.

  “I’m Felicia Lange,” she said. “Here is your wedding ring. Don’t hold it long. Give it to your best man.” She leaned close. “Lovey picked this out of hundreds of bands. Look at the inscription on the inside.”

  She turned and walked away.

  Pendleton gazed down at the velvet covered box in his hand. He opened the box’s delicate lid, revealing the tiny, sparkling blue diamonds in the morning sunlight. A perfect match to the ring he’d given her.

  He examined the symbol and the inscription. Tears moistened his eyes. She’s reached into my soul and captured it for her own, he thought. The ring displayed a cross. Not any cross. The cross Constantine the First fashioned as the symbol of his army. Pendleton viewed himself as a warrior, the Lion’s Heart of Europe. She understood without him ever saying the words.

  Pendleton focused on the inscription and held his breath. She’d written her love in Old English, Angelo-Saxon to be precise. Amazing, the inscription was the language of the era of Tiw. But how could she know?

  #

  Archbishop Malcolm Lloyd waved for Peacock to follow him. “This will only take a moment, Ms. Smythe. You have all of three hours to ready yourself.”

  Three hours would be fine. She’d gone over the instructions with Polaris a dozen times.

  “The Church of Scotland welcomes you. We expect you’ll be attending service with Arthur when in town. But I must ask one or two questions.”

  “Of course Archbishop, your church was a favorite of Queen Victoria’s. I’m sure it will become a favorite of mine.”

  He grinned at her, opened the guestroom door, and the two of them stepped inside. “Recline yourself and let’s talk.”

  She took a seat across from him at a round medieval-like table.

  “Do you believe in God?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Do you believe Jesus, the Christ, was the Son of God?”

  She felt the heat from the crash, and her
rescuer pulling her free before the car exploded. She’d believed in Jesus back then and prayed daily. Peacock tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Still she managed a response. “The Christian faith is the faith I was raised in. My father and mother were devout United Methodists.”

  “And you?”

  “I’m converting for Arthur’s sake.”

  He said, “Faith is a personal thing. Christians believe in God and in Christ as the only road to heaven. And, we have faith He’ll take us to Himself in time. Do you believe those things?”

  “I was raised to believe those things, Archbishop. But I confess I waver in my faith daily.”

  “We all waver, because we’re human.” Archbishop Lloyd took her hand in his and gave her a kindly smile. “I pronounce my blessing upon you and Arthur. May God use you for His glory. May your children one day proclaim His Kingship. In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”

  “Amen,” she said.

  Inside, tremors shook the foundations of her mind. Her father, mother, and she, herself, had put full faith in God before the accident. Now the archbishop’s words conflicted with her present unbelief. She had to force the reality of her marriage back into focus. When she did, she felt a crack open up in her conscience, and the crack wouldn’t close. She also felt something else, a desperate need to hold Arthur.

  Chapter 14

  The church bells chimed the hour. Peacock and her party gathered for their grand entrance. She peeked through the doors to see Pendleton, Van Meer, his best man, and the other groomsmen take their places by the altar.

  “Trumpet Voluntary” resounded throughout the church and Lilith Eaton, Pendleton’s aunt and the first bridesmaid to enter the church, paraded down the aisle. Ambassador Gordon took Peacock’s arm. He whispered to her, “You look radiant, Peacock.”

  Her code name should not have come from the mouth of a stranger and she tensed.