by Judith Lucci
Adam’s eyes lit with pleasure, he smiled, pumped his hand in thanks, and retired to a small table to relish the spicy Gumbo. It certainly beat the tuna salad sandwich that Alex had fixed for him. He smiled to himself, his lovely redheaded granddaughter wasn’t much of a cook. But of course, she was a nurse and a lawyer and he was mighty proud of her. He wished she would return to Virginia. He was worried about his beloved Kathryn and the amount of time she spent alone at their farm in Virginia while he was in D.C. trying to work with a gridlocked Congress. He’d have to investigate an opportunity for her, maybe even get a position created for her. All of this health reform crap. Surely, Alex could manage that. Yeah, he’d get right on that when all this bullshit in New Orleans was over. Adam finished his Gumbo, waved at the kitchen staff, and exited the kitchen into the back hall of the Hotel. He nodded to a Secret Service agent who approached and called him by name. The agent clapped Adam on the back and walked with him to a bank of elevators in the main lobby. As Adam assured the agent that things were ‘gonna be okay’, the agent shook his hand and returned to his station in the back lobby of the hotel.
Adam admired the antique brass elevator and held his breath as it groaned to the fourth floor. The elevator was brightly polished and he couldn’t see any fingerprints or smudges anywhere. The kitchen had been impeccably clean as well. It was hard to believe that a kitchen worker and a political guest had contracted the virus here. Humph ... the entire virus thing reeked of terrorism and he was sure that Ben’s death was associated. Too coincidental. As far as Adam was concerned, where there was smoke, there was fire and the death of Louisiana Senator Beau Lamont and Hayes Hanley solidified a conspiracy in Adam’s mind. Adam had been briefed early in the morning by the Secret Service. He was up to date on everything, even the things his granddaughter didn’t want him to know.
Finally, the elevator creaked to a halt and the door opened. The hotel was beautifully appointed. The walls were a pale shade peach and the carpet was beautifully designed. Even though Adam Patrick Lee was an old farm boy from Virginia, his wife had taught him the importance of having beauty in his world, and over the years, he had acquired a taste for beautiful things. Adam had never told anyone, but he actually collected art glass.
Whenever anyone at the farm commented on the art glass collection at Wyndley, he gave all of the credit to Kathryn. He also turned wood as well, but no one knew that either. That was Adam’s plan for retirement. He planned to spend days in the woodworking shop he had constructed in one of the barns at Wyndley.
Finally, he located Beth’s suite at the end of the hall and knocked softly on her door.
Beth immediately opened the heavy mahogany door, her dark luxurious hair in disarray and fell sobbing into Adam’s arms. She was broken with pain and heartache and as Adam talked to her softly, her weeping finally abated. As Adam watched Beth settle down, he felt anger sweep his body and his gut twisted in pain. He hated the sons of bitches that killed his adopted son and protégé. Adam had been grooming Ben to take his place in Congress, to work on foreign policy and intelligence, and campaign for law enforcement and security all over the planet.
But some sick bastard had ended that yesterday morning. He checked his watch. He’d told Martin 15 minutes but of course, that was before he stopped for Gumbo.
“Beth,” he said softly, “can you go tidy up a bit and then we’ll go to Alex’s house? She and Kathryn are waiting for you and I think a change of scenery will do you good. I’ll have someone retrieve your luggage later. I have a cab waiting downstairs.”
Beth gave Adam a small, tight smile and said, “Sure. I’ll be ready in five minutes and I’ve already packed my overnight bag.”
As Beth readied herself for the short drive to Alex’s house, anger gnawed at Adam’s gut. He became more and more angry about the death of Ben, and his heart broke for Ben's bereaved wife and fatherless children. He could feel his blood pressure skyrocketing and mentally heard Kathryn telling him to calm down in her “don’t give me any more crap” voice. As Adam tried to settle down, Beth reappeared, looking wanly beautiful in black pants and a white blouse with a gold necklace. She looked the epitome of a congressional wife. She’d have been a great first lady.
“Ready?” Adam asked as he reached for her arm.
Beth nodded and they left the room. They were quiet on the way through the lobby and Adam was dismayed when Martin’s cab wasn’t out back. He checked his watch. It had been almost 45 minutes since he’d been dropped off. Adam reached for his cell phone to call Martin when a Secret Service agent gestured for him to come forward.
“Congressman Lee, your cabby is at the front. The back entry is blocked by a delivery truck. I’ll walk out with you. We’ll get both of you in the car. There’s a ton of press.”
Adam nodded. He wished he were leaving by the back door so he wouldn't have to talk to them. He was furious about the death of Ben Blankenship and the break in at Alex's house last night. Who in the hell do these bastard turban heads think they are?
Chapter 37
“Oh my gosh, Alex! You’ve got to come here and see your granddad on CNN. He's really mad!” Bridgett stood in Alex's doorway, resplendent in a bright emerald green two-piece dress with matching green shoes. She had the remote in hand, her enormous eyes wide with amazement. "I hope he doesn’t stroke out or anything, cuz he's so mad."
Alex said nothing, but her mouth formed an O. Oh no, I hope Adam didn’t lose it in national TV.
Bridgett continued waving the remote excitedly in the air. “He just got interviewed and he called the terrorists and people who made this virus a bunch of rag heads who hid behind something. I’m not sure what. I’d say he was mighty pissed.”
Alex stood up from her desk, grabbed the remote from Bridgett, and clicked on CNN. Sure enough, there was her grandfather along with Beth Blankenship standing outside the Hotel Burgundy. One look at her grandfather validated his look of rage and she cringed as she heard his words. Oh my God! How are we going to do damage control on this? She couldn’t believe that Adam had called the terrorists ‘rag heads and chicken shits unworthy of life’. He had also disrespected the Quran, probably the worst part of the interview. Adam had accused terrorists of twisting the words of the Quran to meet their needs, and had called them cowards for hiding their faces. She felt as though she were in a trance as she watched CNN rerun the news bite over and over and over again.
“Alex, Alex what do you want me to do? Should I call someone? Say something! You’re making me very nervous. Say something!” Bridgett pleaded as she roughly grabbed Alex’s shoulder. “You’re not gonna die on me, are you?” Bridgett’s voice was loud and her tone was tragic.
Alex returned to reality and saw Bridgett’s anguished blue eyes. “Bridge, call Elizabeth and ask her to come here. I need her advice on how to handle this. Oh my God, I can’t believe my grandfather did this. This behavior violates every press related rule I’ve ever heard him mention.” Alex rolled her eyes in disbelief. What the hell. What could they do now? She couldn’t believe he’d broken bad on the terrorists in front of the press.
Bridgett glanced over her shoulder on her way out of Alex’s office and said, “I love your grandfather. Don’t be hard on him. After all, he’s just telling the truth. Someone needs to say it the way it is and at least he was brave enough to do it.”
Alex gave Bridgett a thumbs-up as she waved her out of her office just as her phone rang. Jack’s number was digitally displayed. Alex answered, her voice strained, “Jack, what’s up?”
Jack was laughing so hard he couldn’t speak and for some reason that made Alex angry. Finally, Jack stopped laughing enough to say, “I got to tell you, Alex. Your grandfather is some man. I guess you saw his news conference?”
Alex replied tersely, “Yes, I saw it. It’s a disaster. I can hardly believe he stood up and said what he did. Even if it is true, and even if we all believe it, it was something that should never have been said by a ranking, senior United States C
ongressman to a major news network or any network for that manner. I don’t know what happened to him. I’m worried about him. It’s just not like him to lose control.”
Jack responded with a snort and guffaw, “Well, you gotta hand it to him. Probably wasn’t the most politically correct thing to do, but at least he has balls and he’s honest. He told it like it is and I think he’ll get a lot of respect for it. No other politician would be so honest or truthful. He’s a great man who loves his country and as far as I am concerned, he’s paid his dues and he can say whatever the hell he wants. They’ll send some pansy ass political aide out to clean it up.”
Alex was silent. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as she thought. She needed to call and make sure he was okay.
“Al, are you there?”
“Yeah, Jack. I'm just thinking.”
“Can I get your attention for a minute? I am worried about one possibility based on Adam’s remarks.” Jack's voice was serious.
“What?” Alex could identify a free-floating anxiety. She repeated, her voice demanding, “What, Jack?”
“Retaliation. Pure and simple. Retaliation.”
“Against who, my grandfather?”
“Yeah, your grandfather and/or his family.”
Terror seized Alex and she could hardly breathe. “My grandmother,” she gasped, “she’s home alone. Is the NOPD there yet?”
“Yeah, she’s okay. I checked and I am sending another officer over there. I talked to Stoner who thinks there could be trouble as well. He's trying to get consent from Treasury to offer protection to your grandparents. In the meantime, they’re scanning the airwaves and internet for any threats of retaliation. So are Bodine’s people. It’ll work out. Gotta go. ” Jack hoped he sounded convincing to Alex, when in fact, he was worried shitless about the Congressman and his family.
Jack clicked off just as Liz entered Alex’s office. Liz was laughing, and once again, Alex found herself second-guessing her concern. Perhaps I should lighten up and listen to his news conference again. Maybe it’ll make me laugh. And to think I was scared to death last night. This time the threat is to my grandparents and that scares me more.
Elizabeth gave Alex a huge grin and said, “Would you like me to give your grandfather some pointers on meeting with the press, perhaps some press etiquette?” Elizabeth smiled in good humor.
Alex gave a short laugh and said, “I think it’s a little late for that. Seriously, Liz how do you think this will go down?”
Liz thought for a minute and said, “I’m no Washington insider, but I would suspect the opposite party will grill him for lunch and dinner for the next two years. He'll be on every late night TV show, but I doubt he ever has to run a re-election campaign, ever. They will use him in Saturday Night Live skits for the next six months, accuse him of cultural and religious slurs, but I suspect he’ll become a folk hero, Alex, mark my words ... he only told the truth and that’s all most Americans want to hear.”
Alex knew Liz was only trying to make her feel better but she did believe there was some truth in what she was saying. She gave her a big hug. "Thanks, Liz, hope you’re right. But he did break every rule there is and set back diplomatic relations with the Middle East for 50 years."
"Probably did, but I think I am right. As disgusted as Americans are with Congress, they will actually love a politician that is as honest as your grandfather is. They can identify with a little humanity and honesty.”
Alex nodded and said, "Sure hope so. I also hope my grandmother doesn't kill him. She'll be furious about this."
“One more thing,” Liz added. “By the time the pundits, talk shows, and Sunday news reviews have discussed this ad nauseum, Adam will be given grace because Ben Blankenship was his protégé, his adopted son. Just wait and see ... it will be okay. He will be a hero."
“Thanks! You've made me feel much better. Let's focus on getting through the next few days.” Alex didn’t share her concerns about retaliation with Elizabeth. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about it. At least, not yet.
Chapter 38
Kathryn Lee was troubled and heavy of heart. She hadn’t been able to fall asleep in the guest room and had returned to the solarium to sit in the sun. As she rocked slowly in Alex's antique oak rocking chair and viewed her lovely courtyard, she appreciated many of her beloved granddaughter's talents. In addition to being smart and educated, Alex was kind, compassionate, and gentle. She cared about those less fortunate than herself. She had always worked with her grandmother in her charity and church work.
Most of all, Alexandra was an extraordinary artist. From an early age, Kathryn had expected Alex to study art. She smiled fondly as she remembered their early days at the Richmond Children's Museum where Alex insisted they go every Saturday on their 'trip to town'. At the museum she donned one of her grandfather's old shirts, stood at an easel and spent several hours merrily creating colorful pictures with tempera paint, all of which Kathryn had kept, most of them framed in colored paper frames.
In addition to painting, Alex had loved to play dress up and write plays. She adored the Children's Theatre in Richmond and in Hanover where she had won small parts in many plays. Kathryn had been stunned when Alex turned down admission to the coveted School of the Arts at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond and decided to study nursing instead.
And then law school? This decision shocked Kathryn, even to this day. Kathryn often wondered if Alex's determination to complete law school had been the final straw in the demise of her marriage to Robert. Was it her fault? Had Alex moved into law because her grandmother was a lawyer? In her heart, Kathryn knew Robert was the best man in the world for Alexandra. He loved her more than life itself, but Robert, with his affluent Creole upbringing, had wanted Alex to be a stay at home wife and mother. At that point, his arrogance hadn’t allowed him to appreciate a professional wife. Oh well, she couldn’t fix that one. Besides, that was all water over the damn.
Kathryn was tired. She closed her eyes and confronted her deep uncertainties. She knew Alex was unhappy and that the practice of law didn't fit her outgoing creative personality. Oh, how she hoped Alex and Robert would reunite. Then she could rest in peace.
Her thoughts turned to her husband. Adam Lee was a stubborn, dogmatic, dictatorial, and hardheaded pain in the ass and had been no treat to live with for 50-plus years, but she knew he was dedicated to his family, home, and country. She also knew he loved her and Alex more than life. She shook her head sadly, as she remembered the events of recent weeks.
Lately, he’d seemed to be absentminded, a bit off his mark, forgetful, and that worried her. Her husband had a steel-trap mind and the memory of an elephant. He could smell a rat better than most cats and he rarely missed anything. His sixth sense was extraordinary. But lately ... well, he'd been absentminded, a bit scattered and that was an enormous change. The differences chilled her and she feared for his future ... actually their future.
Adam was a wily, perspicacious politician and it had stunned her when a couple of things had slipped by him. He had been devastated that he'd forgotten. One slip had been his attendance at a national security committee meeting. His aide had called Kathryn looking for him but Kathryn had been no help. They couldn't reach him at his Washington apartment or by cell phone. He was flat missing, not around, and clearly not available. And of course, the death of Ben Blankenship had totally devastated him. He hadn't slept and his distress was palpable.
Kathryn closed her eyes to contemplate and began to feel sleepy. Checking her watch, it was only about two p.m., so she could catch a quick nap before Adam returned with Beth. She needed it. She was exhausted. The trip had been long and getting up at four a.m. always messed her up. The sunshine coming in Alex's windows and Handel's Water Music lulled her into a deep sleep.
Chapter 39
Ali walked down Canal on his way home from Tulane; his eyes stared at the sidewalk, not wanting to see the people he'd probably kill the next day. The young scientist was scruffy
and disheveled. Dr. Smith had expressed alarm at Ali's appearance, and thinking he was overworked and stressed, had literally ordered him out of the virology lab. Ali was deeply depressed and felt powerless and physically immobilized by the demands of the Jihadists. He could hardly believe his work on identifying the virus had turned it into a murder weapon that would kill thousands of New Orleanians in just a few hours. As the young man brushed tears from his eyes, he sat down at a Starbucks and ordered coffee. He turned the situation over and over in his mind trying to think of a way to thwart the terrorists’ plan. He honestly didn't think he could live on this earth if his love for science resulted in the death of thousands.
A tap on the shoulder startled him. He looked up from the wrought iron table and was surprised to see Habib. Oh no, are these bastards following me? I will never live through this. Perhaps I shouldn't.
"May I sit down?" Habib asked.
Ali shrugged and replied, "Yeah, I guess. You guys are following me anyway. Why not?" Ali's voice was sarcastic and he hoped he sounded diffident and non-committal to the young Jihadist.
The two Muslims sat in silence, each deep in thought when Habib finally broke the silence, his voice gentle, almost kind. "They've asked you to do a lot, my brother. They have revised the plan based on your ability to create the airborne weaponized virus."
Ali looked at him with surprise and said nothing. He stared at Habib, his eyes dark and angry. He had no obligation to tell this guy anything, and he wasn't planning to. Ali wasn't prone to violence at all, but he really wanted to cold cock Habib.
Habib continued softly, "Did you do it? Did you turn the virus into a gas?"
Ali stood to leave, "Why would I tell you? It's not your business. Get out of my way," he added as Habib stood to block his access to the door.
"Sit down, Ali," Habib pleaded. "Maybe you and I are on the same side."
