by Martha Carr
She never let on what her real place was in the world but she revealed enough to him and he had used it all to try and further himself in Management. To finally be recognized as somebody. In the end, it got her killed and left behind two young sons and a grieving widower.
Things only got worse as Robert ran from Management’s Watchers until he somehow landed in front of Mark in downtown Richmond. It wasn’t long before all of it was so tangled even Mark and his children had to flee in the middle of the night just ahead of Management, leaving behind more than a few dead bodies. Fortunately, Mark’s financial plan to slowly steal from Management was able to kick in and he had gotten himself as free and clear as someone was ever able to do. Even the property in Montana had already been carefully selected and paid for before the sudden run.
It was the perfect place where other ranchers didn’t care if a new family moved into the area as long as they minded their own business.
When Mark had to drop Robert and the boys, Will and Trey off at the orphanage in Iowa before he took a hard right in the direction of Montana, he wondered if Harry Weiskopf finally had any regrets. Somehow, he doubted it.
He had met the man a couple of times when Mark was first installed at the Federal Reserve. Esther had introduced them and when she had said how important Mark was to the Circle, Harry had looked like he smelled something offensive.
Mark wrote it off as a brother who had been a third wheel a little too often. He even felt a little sorry for the guy. But it all blew up in everyone’s face two years ago.
“Just two years,” Mark said quietly, as he sat down on the cold, cement floor. “It wasn’t enough time.”
“Dad?” It was Jake, standing at the top of the basement stairs. “Are you okay?”
He could hear the worry in his son’s voice.
Mark wiped the tears in his eyes and stood up quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, trying to speak slowly, as if this was a normal morning like any other. “What are you doing up so early on a Saturday? You can sleep in, buddy.”
“I was checking on Sergeant Kipling,” said Jake.
“How did you know his name?”
“It’s on the nametag sewn to his shirt, Dad.”
Mark could hear the annoyance in his voice. “Of course. Guess I got a little caught up in the whole, running for safety thing and forgot to take in the details.”
“Well, it’s what you taught us to do. Ignore the urge to panic and pay attention.”
“Good advice. I just thought it would be more about denting my car or getting caught with your girlfriend.”
“Not guns and soldiers,” said Jake.
“No, not guns and soldiers,” said Mark, shaking his head, feeling the same regret again.
“I heard you talking to someone.”
“Just myself. Your old man’s a little crazy. Come on down, Jake, it’s okay. Come on,” he said, going to the bottom of the stairs and waving to him. “We can check on Sergeant Kipling together.”
Jake came down the stairs but never took his eyes off of his father’s face. When he got a little further down the stairs where Mark could see him in the dim glow from the one light that was on, he could see that Jake was carrying his shotgun.
“Were you outside?” asked Mark.
“Yeah, I took a walk around the yard with the scope. I didn’t see anything. Either they’ve moved on or they’re lying really low for the night.”
“You been doing this a lot?” asked Mark.
“Yeah, every hour,” said Jake.
“Since we found him?” Almost two days had passed since they had made the mad scramble through the woods carrying what had fortunately not turned out to be dead weight.
“Yep. Checking on the house and then checking on the Sergeant’s breathing. So far, all is quiet and he’s holding his own. I’ve kept notes.”
“Video notes?”
Jake nodded. “It’s the twenty-first century, Dad. That’s kind of understood.”
Mark patted his son’s back. “He’s lucky to have you checking on him,” said Mark, ignoring the comment about the perimeter checks. He wasn’t sure what to say about that just yet. “You’re a real asset to this family.”
“What are you doing with that old phone?”
Mark suddenly realized he was still holding the old iPhone. The news had distracted him and pulled him into a past he had spent the past two years just trying to forget.
“Looking for news,” he said, telling as much of the truth as he could without worrying Jake.
“Did you find out anything?”
“No, no,” said Mark, shaking his head. He was, after all still Jake’s father. “We’ll need to get something out of the Sergeant. Management’s troops, if that’s what they are, will still be in the area and could stop by at any time. We need to find out if there’s something going on nearby.”
“I’m not sure we can wake him up yet,” said Jake. “I keep checking just to make sure he’s not dead.”
“That’s got to be some really bad parenting on my part,” said Mark, trying to lighten the mood.
“You didn’t cause any of this, Dad.”
“I’m not sure that’s true. It’s easy to say that in the short term, yeah. I didn’t make anybody come look for us. That’s right. I think the Sergeant was looking for me, specifically. He may have a message. But think about it, son.”
“Every consequence started with a decision you made a long time ago,” said Jake.
“So you are paying attention when I’m talking to you.”
“Well, you’ve said that one so many times it was harder to miss.”
“This giant clusterfuck started when I joined Management.”
Jake cut him off before he could finish the storyline that went through his head at least a couple of times a week.
“You didn’t choose that, your parents did. They put you in that feeder school. You had no way of knowing where all of that was headed.”
“Neither did my old man,” said Mark. “He thought he was giving me something he never had a chance to get. A college education.”
“Then it can’t be your fault either. Dad, no offense but all of your stories about how everyone else was just doing the best except for you get a little old.”
“Ouch,” said Mark, feeling the start of a headache coming on. “How long have you been holding that one in?”
“Well, since we moved here. You may have said it a few more times.”
“I’m a crappy parent,” he said and let out a deep sigh. All thoughts of the Keeper being in trouble left him for a moment.
“No, you’re not that unique. You’re just a parent who joined a super-secret spy group and then left that group to join another one and then left both of them to move into the wilderness with three kids,” said Jake, smiling.
“That does sound ridiculous,” said Mark.
“And you stole from one of those groups, I’m figuring because you’re too much of a straight arrow to deal drugs or murder for hire but we could suddenly afford this kickass place so I figure you somehow stole a pile of money from one of them. My vote’s on Management.”
Mark said nothing and just looked at his son. He let the seconds tick by while he tried to think of something plausible to say.
“No comment,” he finally mustered. “And thank you for pointing out once and for all not only that I’m not as clever as I thought but that you are really the brains of our operation.”
Jake shrugged and arched an eyebrow as he shifted the gun in his hand.
“Well, I’ll leave you to whatever you were doing, then. I’m going to try and go back to bed,” said Jake.
“Okay, son, I love you. Hey, thanks again for watching out for us. I’ll take the next few shifts. You just sleep, okay?”
He hugged his son and thought about telling him to put the gun back in the case but stopped himself. He watched Jake creep back up the stairs and heard the floor creak over his head as Jake made his way back to his r
oom on the second floor.
If the house was suddenly breached today by people looking for the wounded soldier, or even Mark he wanted his son to be able to protect himself and his brother and sister. Maybe it was better if he slept with the gun by his bed.
Once Mark was sure that Jake was back in his room he moved the bookcase that was hiding the door to where the soldier was sleeping. It easily slid on the felt bottom that Mark had attached for just this reason.
The Sergeant was still sleeping soundly. Mark watched him for a few seconds wondering if this was a good idea until he looked at the phone that was still in his hand. He slipped it in his back pocket and knelt down beside Kipling.
He paused for a second, wondering if he could somehow stop being involved in all of this and get out of what was rolling his way. Kipling stirred and tried to roll to one side but groaned in apparent pain and settled back again.
He was still dressed in the clothes that Mark and Jake had found him in, minus the gear, the heavy jacket and his belt and shoes. He had been too wounded for them to get his shirt all the way off of him and Mark had been a little concerned about spending too much time in the small room with Kipling while his two younger children were cooling their heels in a safe room on the second floor. It didn’t seem right.
Something was tucked inside of the shirt but Mark had left it alone while he had tried to stitch up the shoulder wound. The bullet had made a clean pass through the man’s shoulder and appeared to have missed any bone but he was bleeding badly. There had been enough to do.
Besides, Mark didn’t know when he was first trying to keep the man alive that somehow his own family was involved with the possible capture of the Keeper. If he had known that, he would have kicked Sergeant Kipling to get him to talk.
He carefully slid two fingers inside of Kipling’s shirt pocket trying to pull out a small, narrow piece of paper rolled up tight like a tiny scroll. He was so focused on not dropping the scroll from between his fingers he didn’t notice when Kipling’s eyelids fluttered.
Suddenly, Kipling had his finger securely wrapped around Mark’s wrist. Even in his weakened state he still had a tight enough grip to cause Mark some pain. His eyes were half open staring straight at Mark.
“Hello,” said Mark. “Want to let go of my arm? Or I can call for my son to come and finish you off.” Mark could feel himself growing angry and was trying to take deep breaths to calm down. “I’m the reason you’re still alive at all.”
Kipling immediately loosened his grip and Mark could feel his arm relax. He pulled his hand out, the scroll still between his fingers.
“Mark Whiting?”
“Yes,” said Mark. “Were you looking for me?”
“I have a message,” said Kipling. “There’s a package on its way. They said you would know what it was. You’re to keep it safe, no matter what. The scroll explains a little more.”
Mark unfurled the small piece of paper. It was another line from the Constitution. It was from Article IV, Section II. ‘A Person charged in any State with Treason, Felony, or other Crime, who shall flee from Justice, and be found in another State, shall on Demand of the executive Authority of the State from which he fled, be delivered up, to be removed to the State having jurisdiction of the Crime.’
Kipling closed his eyes and seemed to drift back to sleep.
Mark suddenly knew what was happening and he could feel the surge of anger in his gut. The Keeper was in danger because of his own brother, Harry and they were sending Tom to Montana for safekeeping. They thought Mark could keep him alive and out of harm’s way.
“No one asked me if I’d do it,” said Mark.
“You’ve been drafted,” said Kipling. “Whatever it is, it’s in play and there’s a lot of people who are very interested.”
“That squad that was chasing you. They know where you were headed?”
“No sir. That was part of the mission. To not lead them here.”
“Well, small victories. So far, no one’s openly approached the house. How do you know they’ve completely passed us by?”
“I don’t.”
“How do your superiors know you got the message through?”
“I had your boy make a phone call for me.”
Mark practically lifted Kipling off of the bed by his shirt. He was surprised at just how violent he could become and with a wounded soldier.
“You did what?” he said, his spit hitting Kipling’s face that was now just inches from his own. He was breathing hard and didn’t care about the pain he could see building across the other man’s face.
“I had him make a call. It had to be done. He didn’t have to say anything. Just had to call and wait for an answer and then hang up. It had to be done from your house phone so that they’d know I reached you. I tried to get your boy to bring me the phone but he insisted on doing it himself.”
Mark let go as Kipling dropped back to the cot with a small bounce, unable to break his own fall. He grimaced and grit his teeth as he tried to straighten out his arms. Mark covered his face with his hands and tried to think for a moment.
He looked back at Kipling.
“Was that the entire message?”
“Yes, sir.”
“They risked your life for that short message?” asked Mark.
“They risked mine and my entire squad’s life for that message. I’m just the only one who lived to get the message through.”
Mark gasped trying to take in what Kipling was telling him.
“Are they all dead somewhere out there in the woods?” Mark was thinking of Jake and that this could turn out to be his breaking point.
“No, they died a lot closer to the Canadian border. No one near here will find a pile of bodies. By now, someone has gathered the bodies for burials. We don’t leave anyone behind.”
“I thought that was the Marines,” said Mark.
Kipling looked agitated and started trying to sit up.
“A good soldier never leaves his fellows behind. It’s just the way it is. Besides, I think the Rangers came up with that one.”
“Sorry,” said Mark. “Did they give you any other information, like a timeline?”
“No. You know, they tried to reach you in other ways but there was no response and things apparently took a more urgent course for some reason. The message had to be delivered.”
“Then, I’m going to assume the package will be delivered very soon.”
“That’s probably reasonable,” said Kipling. “As long as the area is clear of combatants.”
“Why aren’t they out looking for your remains? No offense.”
“None taken, it’s a good question. They probably think I’m not dead and still moving. You finding me and covering my tracks so quickly did us both a favor. There’s no reason for them to head all the way up to a civilian’s house. It would risk too much exposure.”
“We have Jake to thank for that. My son. He spotted you.”
“He’s been checking on me.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s a good kid.”
“Was he in Management’s system?”
Mark shuddered at the suggestion and answered a little more strongly than he had intended. “No, no, he wasn’t. Never in anyone’s system. He’s just like that.” Mark looked away, trying to push down the regrets.
“My dad was a hero, at least that’s what they tell me,” said Kipling. “I had a brother, Dennis but he died on a similar kind of mission.”
“He died trying to get here?” asked Mark. “How many people have been trying to make their way here?”
“No, he’s been dead for a couple of years. He died trying to keep the last Keeper alive but it didn’t work.”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Mark. “That must be hard. You have any family left?”
“Not to speak of. But I’m a Mercy Man. You’d have to be from Chi-town to know what that means but it does mean something. I have a rather large family that I can rely on at any time.”
“Th
at’s good,” said Mark. “How old are you, anyway?” he asked.
“Twenty-six, hoping to be get to twenty-seven in another month.”
“You’re not dead so your odds are good, at least from these wounds, anyway. How much do you know about this mission?”
“I know the Keeper is coming and if they’ve gone to all of this trouble I know he’s in trouble, just like the last Keeper. I just don’t know why. It’s not good for any of us to know too many details. Can’t get out of me what I never knew to begin with,” he said, shutting his eyes.
“I’ll let you rest,” said Mark. “The kids should be asleep for at least a couple more hours. It’s Saturday. Didn’t know if you were aware that a few days have already passed, which is a good sign. There’s been nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Except the Keeper hasn’t arrived yet.”
“Yeah, that’s true. That can’t be good,” said Mark.
“You need to go to town for an errand,” said Kipling, his eyes still shut.
“You in much pain? I can give you some more meds for that.”
“No, I can’t afford to be knocked out. Look, you need to be seen doing something normal. Keep an eye out for anyone you don’t recognize. Try and notice any out of town license plates or just cars that look too clean or just don’t fit in. Bring back the information.”
“I’ll bring it back as long as we have an agreement that none of my kids do your bidding, for any reason, ever again.”
Kipling opened his eyes. “Deal. I leave your kids alone.”
“Go back to sleep. When everyone is up and settled into their day, I’ll ride into town. I know how to spot a Watcher. Years of practice ought to come back to me fairly easily.” Mark felt his shoulders tighten.
“I’m sorry,” said Kipling. “You were famous for getting out of this business altogether. I’m sorry.”
“So am I,” said Mark. “It wasn’t long enough.”
Chapter Fourteen
The President’s reelection campaign was making a stop in Iowa. The election was growing close and he was still ahead in the polls but President Hayes and the money that supported him weren’t taking any chances. The plan was to make a winding trip through the middle of the country on a private train, running alongside the path the war was taking, and make private stops to visit the troops.
