At all costs

by John Gilstrap

  “Do you have any idea why you’re here this afternoon?” Ms. Sanders asked.

  Jake and Carolyn exchanged glances, then Jake spoke for the family. “No, ma’am, we don’t.”

  “That’s good,” Sanders said. “That’s very good, in fact. With the level of media coverage you’re receiving these days, I didn’t want anything leaking out before we had a deal.”

  Jake shot a look to Paul-his primary point of contact these past weeks-who raised a finger, urging him to be patient.

  “Excuse me,” Senator Albricht interrupted. “Perhaps it would be best if the boy waited out in the hall.”

  Travis’s eyes grew huge as he shot a glance to his mom and dad. “I’m not going anywhere!”

  Jake looked to Boersky, who answered his silent question with a nod. “It’ll just be for a few minutes,” he said.

  Jake turned to face his son. “Go ahead, Trav.”

  “No!”

  Jake stood and gently pulled the boy’s chair away from the table. “Please,” he said. “They wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

  Travis looked to everyone in the room for support but couldn’t find any. Clearly, he didn’t know what to do next.

  “Please,” Jake urged again.

  “It’ll only be a few minutes,” Carolyn added.

  Haltingly, the boy rose from his chair and allowed himself to be escorted to the big wooden door with smoked glass in the top. Jake opened it and pointed to the wooden bench against the wall. “Just wait for us there.”

  Travis looked terrified; he knew that something was horribly wrong. “Dad?”

  Jake winked at his son and struggled to keep his lip from trembling. “It’ll be okay, Trav,” he promised. “We’ll be out in just a few minutes.”

  Travis started to say something but then looked as if the words had just dried up. Jake watched the boy drag himself to the bench, then turned back around to face the music for all that he’d done.

  “You have some powerful friends in this town, Mr. Donovan,” Sanders began as Jake returned to his seat. “These people seem to think that you’ve gotten a raw deal these past few years.”

  “You have a gift for understatement, Emma,” the senator piped in with a smile.

  Ms. Sanders ignored him. “In any case,” she went on, “these things can become messy. I know, for example, through conversations with Mr. Boersky and through news reports that you have been approached by a number of parties to vent your spleen, as it were, in very public ways.”

  Albricht interrupted again. “She’s trying to tell you, Jake, that the president’s scared to death that you’re going to piss in his Wheaties. Get to the point, Emma.”

  Sanders’s glare could have melted an iceberg, but Albricht clearly couldn’t have cared less. Across the table, Irene and Paul fought losing battles to hide their discomfort. A sitting attorney general could do amazing damage to a Justice Department career.

  Sanders cut to the chase. “I come here today with a one-time-only offer for you.” She reached into the oversize purse on her shoulder and withdrew a folded document. “This is a Presidential Pardon, Mr. Donovan, and it’s yours, on three conditions. One, that you refrain from any overt effort to seek publicity from this episode in your lives for a period of five years…”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Carolyn said, but the expression she got in return said otherwise. “Why on earth-”

  “Only until after the next election season,” Albricht explained.

  “Hear her out, Carolyn,” Irene said. “This is important.”

  Ms. Sanders shot a look to Irene that was totally uninterpretable, then continued. “Second, you must agree never to pursue a civil claim against the United States government for any alleged damages incurred …”

  Carolyn launched from her seat. “Alleged damages! My God, lady-”

  Jake caught the panicked look from Paul and moved quickly to intervene. “Carolyn, please. Let’s at least hear the offer before we reject it.”

  Sanders acknowledged Jake’s assistance with a nod. “Lastly, you are never to divulge the elements of this agreement to anyone.”

  “Now?” Carolyn asked, still hovering above her seat. “Is it time to reject the offer now? It’s absurd! We’ve already been exonerated, for God’s sake! Why in the world would I agree to conditions for a pardon I already have?”

  Irene answered for the attorney general. “Charges have been dropped only for the original terrorist business in Arkansas.”

  “But not for our flight? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Irene shook her head, then closed her eyes against the pain it caused. “No, of course not. Because you committed no crime, you can hardly be charged with evading prosecution. The pardon proposed by Ms. Sanders is for any other crimes that may have been committed while you were on the run.”

  Carolyn still didn’t get it. “You want me to give up my right to sue you into outer space, just so we don’t get brought up on some bullshit forgery charge?”

  It was Clayton’s turn now. “That’s one example,” he said. “But you know, there’s any number of other laws you might have broken inadvertently along the way.” His eyes narrowed as they focused in on Jake, but his tone remained friendly. “And you never know when some ambitious young prosecutor might stumble on a new piece of evidence and drag you back into the spotlight. With this pardon in your hand, that can’t happen. Ever. In fact, even if you’d killed someone, you couldn’t be prosecuted for it.”

  The words hit Jake like a fist in the chest, and as he scanned the faces of the people in the room, he saw just how hard Albricht’s eyes had become.

  “We’ve known about Nick Thomas’s involvement for a couple of weeks now, Jake,” Irene said softly. “His prints showed up among hundreds of other prints in the Cadillac. For what it’s worth, you might be happy to know that he refused to comment on any of this.”

  “His wife, on the other hand,” Paul finished, “was an entirely different story. Once she started talking, she just wouldn’t shut up.”

  Carolyn had no idea what any of this was about, but as she watched the color drain from Jake’s face, she sat back into her seat and squeezed his hand under the table.

  Attorney General Sanders closed the loop. “A body was found last week in Shenandoah National Park. Badly decomposed and apparently dug up by predators.”

  The room fell silent as Jake processed the words. His face hid nothing anymore; it was all right there for everyone to see. Carolyn raised his hand now, still clutched in her own, and kissed it.

  “Relax, Jake,” Albricht said softly. “No one’s going to pursue the body’s identity. And no one is ever going to ask you the details of what happened to the mysterious Mr. Wiggins or how you were able to avoid capture for all of these years. Just sign the indemnification papers, and the pardon’s yours. This whole mess will be over forever.”

  Jake looked stunned, and he glanced to Carolyn for advice. She smiled. “This is a no-brainer, honey.” She motioned for the document to be slid across the table, then gestured for a pen. Albricht produced a pricey rollerball and handed it to Jake, who lifted the necessary pages to expose the highlighted areas marked with an “X.” Signatures on three pages, initials on four. He slid the papers to Carolyn, and then they were done.

  Sanders accepted the signed indemnification, then handed over the pardon and rose to leave. “There’s a check in there, too,” she said. “Three hundred thousand dollars. To compensate you for your trouble.” She walked to the door, then stopped. “It’s tax-free, by the way.” For an instant, a smile flashed across her face, and then it was time to leave. Paul Boersky followed her out, as Clayton helped Irene get out of her chair.

  Jake and Carolyn stood as well. “I–I don’t know what to say,” Jake said.

  Irene smiled and shrugged. “You don’t have to say anything.” She turned her eyes to Carolyn next, who looked to be searching for words herself. “You either, Carolyn. This one was on me. And
him.” She gestured to Albricht, who smiled his coyest smile.

  Clayton extended his hand to Jake. “You saved my life, Jake. And you can’t get as far as I have in politics without understanding the importance of returning favors.” He turned to Carolyn next and offered his hand. She took it, and Clayton covered it with his left. “I’m afraid that in her haste to leave, Ms. Sanders forgot to say how sorry the government is to have put you through all of this.”

  Carolyn smiled, surprised by the tears that suddenly formed in her eyes. “Why, thank you, Senator,” she said. “That means more than you probably know.”

  The moment hung awkwardly in the air, no one knowing exactly what to do next. Finally, Irene broke the silence. “Senator Albricht, if you would be so kind as to give me a hand negotiating the steps, I’d be forever grateful.”

  It was their excuse to leave the room, but Irene paused one more time, at the doorway. “Oh, and Jake? I have an answer for you. Sometimes it really is about justice.”

  It was a pussy way to think, and Travis would never admit it out loud, but he was afraid to be alone anymore. He’d spent too much time being alone, with strangers manhandling him and trying to kill him. He’d thought they were past it all after his dad got out of jail, and they all got back together in the hospital, but now he didn’t know what to think.

  He recognized the FBI lady and her partner, and he thought he’d seen the old man on the news, but he didn’t like the attorney general lady one bit. She had a predator’s eyes and a mouth that looked like it didn’t get a chance to smile very often.

  What shook him most, though, was the look on his dad’s face when she walked into the room. He was scared. Really scared; not like the time in the school with Mr. Menefee or in the van or on the hill outside the magazine. This was a kind of scared that didn’t have any strength left in it.

  They were taking too long. They’d said only a few minutes, and he supposed it hadn’t been a whole lot longer than that, but it felt like forever. What could they be talking about that was so secret that they couldn’t tell him, too? After all, he was in all of this just as deep as any of them were.

  Suddenly, old fears of orphanages and foster homes flooded back into his mind. If they were there to take his parents away again, then they’d have a whole other fight on their hands.

  He’d just about decided to storm back into the room when the conference room door opened up, and the sour-faced lady left, with Paul Boersky in tow.

  Travis stood and moved quickly to block their path down the hallway, his arms outstretched to either side. The adults had little choice but to stop. “Why don’t you people leave us alone?” he demanded.

  Paul forced a chuckle, even as he looked embarrassed. “Hey, kiddo,” he said. “You need to relax. Everything’s going to be just fine.”

  Travis ignored him, never breaking his gaze from its lock on Emma Sanders’s piercing green eyes. As he stared, he saw them soften. “Are you arresting us again?”

  The attorney general smiled; not one of the condescending smirks he’d seen so often these past weeks, but a genuine, grandmotherly smile. She shook her head. “No, Travis, we’re not here to arrest anyone.”

  It wasn’t what he expected, and the answer left him momentarily speechless. “Oh,” he said. He lowered his arms and let them pass on either side. Then he turned to face them again. “You know, they never did anything wrong.”

  Ms. Sanders stopped and turned. She reached out to touch the boy’s face, but when he flinched, she withdrew her hand. For just a few seconds, she looked as if she might argue, but in the end, she just let the smile return. “You’re right,” she said. “Now, why don’t you go on back inside? I think your folks are waiting for you.”

  Irene and the old senator were just leaving as Travis reentered the room, and then they were alone again, just the three of them. “Is it over?”

  Jake looked first to Carolyn and then to his son. When he smiled, his eyes still looked sad. “Yes, Trav, it’s finally over. We’re free to go home.”

  Travis scowled. “Do we have one?”

  Yes, they did. And it would be wherever the three of them could stand in one place together.

  The signifigance of it all hit Jake first, and it hit him hard. The faces of old friends flooded his mind-all of them long dead; killed in an act of cruelty that by all rights should have taken his own life. The weight of all the lies and all the blood and all the fear suddenly blossomed to huge proportions, and in that moment, he knew he couldn’t bear it anymore.

  Family first, at all costs. He’d said the words so many times they’d come to lose their meaning. And here before him stood the reasons for all the pain and all the risk-taking. Gone, though, was the danger, and with it disappeared his reason to be strong.

  The tears came from nowhere, propelled from his soul by an unspeakable grief. Pain he’d inflicted. Pain he’d endured. Childhood stolen from the heart of his only son.

  “I need a hug,” he tried to say. The sound was lost in the flood of his emotion.

  But no one needed to hear his words. They came to him easily, willingly. Even the tough kid who rejected all gestures of tenderness was there. And they all cried, openly, and free of shame, cleansing the agony of all they’d endured.

  Jake prayed that one day God might forgive the sins he’d committed to protect his family, but that could wait. For the time being, he was blessed with all the forgiveness a man could possibly ask for.

  They were a family again. The Donovan family. And all that lay ahead of them was the future.

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