With that, Rahim lifted the cover off of the only car parked in the garage. The Volvo was about ten years old, with a dark green color and beige leather interior. It was in good shape, but there was a dent or two on the passenger side. The car had Pennsylvania tags.
“Registration is in the glove compartment, but, honestly, if you get stopped, you are probably done. Oh, one other thing, don't buy gas on the interstate. Always stop in one of the Podunk towns off the beaten path.”
Jackson was floored. For the first time all night, he felt hopeful. If he made it to his destination, he could figure out a way to fight back. “I don't know what to say, Rahim.”
“Shit, I owe your monkey-ass! My lawyer wasn't shit. If it weren't for you, I would have been in the joint for five to ten years. You saved my black ass. Oh, one more thing. How did you get to my house?”
“I caught a cab near Minnesota and Benning.”
“Ummm,” Rahim said, fingering his chin. “Where did the cabbie drop you off?”
“At the corner, on Sheriff Road. Why?”
“No sweat. But the folks after you got cameras, satellites, all kinda shit. They want a brotha bad enough, they will keep lookin'. I'm glad I asked. Gonna send momma to see her sister in North Carolina for a few weeks. If those motha-fuckers do come a-calling, me and my crew will be a-waiting.”
Jackson nodded, but didn't say anything.
Ever upbeat, Rahim just laughed heartily. “I 'spect we even now, Mr. D.A, ain't we?”
“I would say so, Rahim,” Jackson said, forcing a small smile.
“It's close,” Rahim said, still smiling. “Five to ten years is a long damn time! Go avenge that fine student of yours, Mr. D.A. I'll holler!”
With that, Rahim gave a wink, turned around and opened the big garage door.
Jackson put on the cardigan, glasses and Kangol, jumped in the car and started it up. The Volvo purred as if brand new. Jackson inched out of the garage, gave Rahim a thumbs up and headed to Ohio, where he could begin to avenge Amy's death.
FOUR
Former Texas Ranger and Green Beret Brent Livermore was the lead military strategist for the plan. His responsibilities were simple. He was in charge of executing the appropriate response of force needed to keep the mission on track. At Livermore's disposal were fifteen former special ops, navy seals types who worked with him around the clock. With the resources and connections available to his superiors, Livermore was able to access almost any piece of information or resource accessible to any law enforcement agency or military branch in the country. In real time. This included the use of satellite technology.
Before tonight, there had been little need to utilize those contacts. As far as Livermore could tell, things were moving expeditiously and without any stumbles. That all changed when Steve Mills called him earlier this evening about the senator's daughter. Livermore had to get six of his best men together ASAP and had the rest of his team on full alert. He was proud of the way they responded. They obviously had been listening when he had repeatedly said to them over the past few months that this was the quiet before the storm.
“When things get hot and heavy,” he had told them, “it will come quick, with virtually no warning.” To his team's credit, they got the Duncan girl's phone records in minutes, before she even met her black professor.
Livermore was on the scene when they found the couple. Indeed, he was the one who knocked the professor out with the butt of his gun. His second in command put the girl to sleep - permanently. That all went well. But now, several hours later, the black professor was still free. How could that have happened? The media team had done their part well - Jackson Lowery was now public enemy number one in the D.C. region. But how was he still free?
Livermore had called together all fifteen of his team members, along with a few tech guys. Their location was a secure spot in Fairfax, Virginia with a giant satellite screen in front of them. The screen had access to every satellite and camera image maintained by D.C., Maryland, and Virginia authorities. Livermore knew it was time to crack some heads.
“Let me have your attention! Everyone! All eyes on me. First, great job by the tech folks and media folks early tonight. We found the target quickly and the ground team took care of business.”
A few folks in the room started to clap, which led to an incensed response by Livermore.
“Don't you dare clap for doing what you are supposed to do! Never. Especially, when the main job is not done! Tell me how a college professor with no money, no wallet, no car, no phone, no identification and no help can elude capture for seven hours? How? Can someone hazard a guess?”
One tech raised his hand. “He obviously is getting help from someone.”
“Okay,” Livermore responded. “Let's say that is true. Who is it? And how did he connect with that person or persons? Didn't you run all of his contacts?”
“Yes, we did, boss.”
“How far did you go back?”
“Three years. We checked each and every call he has made from his cell, office and house phone. He has not called any of those numbers since the ground team dropped him off at the Georgetown waterfront.”
“Alright. Go back ten years. And, check the phones of his son and ex-wife. We should have done that earlier.” Not doing so was a mistake. I am going to let you all get back to it, but this is what I want. When we reconvene at zero three hundred hours we are going to follow his movements, both known and possible, step by step, with timelines. In order to prepare, drill down on satellite images and cameras accessible to local authorities. Let's go to work, people!”
FIVE
Jackson drove all night. As bad as his night had been, he was actually traveling a near perfect route, leaving the D.C. area and hiding at the same time. After getting on the Beltway, he took I-270 to Frederick, Maryland and planned to maneuver his way west until he reached his destination of Marietta, Ohio. By now, Jackson had Rahim's Volvo on cruise control. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands as he struggled to remember Amy's every word before they were attacked.
She had said something about a killing, but he just could not remember all that she had said. Something was telling him that the government was involved. He kept trying to focus but the pain in his head was coming back. Push yourself, he reminded himself. Dig in on the details. Jackson then got a sharp, stabbing pain in his head. The Volvo jerked to the right as he grabbed the back of his head with his right hand. Fortunately, there were no other cars in sight.
Jackson had to regroup. He forced himself to stop trying to think about last night. He intuitively understood that he was still experiencing the after effects of the trauma. He decided to think about his relationship with Amy and how it has evolved over time.
Although he was on the run, with an unknown future, Jackson smiled at that memory as his headache started going away.
Nearly a third of the way through his trip, Jackson slowly started reflecting on his Friday night dinner with Amy. It was pretty special and Jackson remembered every detail. The 1789 Restaurant was located in the same building as another restaurant, the Tombs. Both are two of Jackson's favorite haunts. The Tombs had more of a burger and fries menu, while 1789 is upscale. Friday night was upscale in every way. Jackson had been coming there for so long that they always prepared something to suit his tastes. When he set his reservation for his dinner with Amy, he told Pablo, the longtime 1789 chef, that she was vegan, so he had promised to whip up a nice meal for her.
Jackson had waited for Amy outside and when he saw her walking up the street, she looked radiant. A natural blonde with shoulder length hair, Amy had her hair in an elegant looking bun. Her green eyes were glistening. Strikingly beautiful, she was wearing a tasteful black figure-hugging dress, with a classy, silky shawl hanging over her shoulders. As she walked, it seemed as though the flowing shawl and her well toned legs were in sync. Simply beautiful, Jackson thought as Amy smiled broadly at him. For his part, Jackson
wore blue slacks, a cream colored shirt and a blue, gray tweed jacket. They warmly embraced when she got to the restaurant door.
Pablo greeted them as soon as they walked in and joked about Jackson getting younger every day. Jackson wasn't sure if the joke was good or not, but both he and Amy laughed heartily. Yep, it was going to be that kind of night. When they were seated in a private spot, Jackson could tell that Amy was waiting for a menu.
“Uh,” he began. “I took the liberty of having Pablo put together a meal for you. I hope you will like it. Vegan, right?”
Amy looked flabbergasted. “I am impressed,” she said. “I guess you know a lot about me.”
Jackson shrugged.
“Well,” she said. “I still bet that I know more about you than you do about me.”
“Hey, that's not fair,” Jackson feigned anger. “I am kind of in a disadvantaged situation here. Clearly, I have lived longer and have a much more public footprint. Knowing that, I feel honored that you still wanted to have a real date with me,” he smiled.
“Life is about the journey, not the destination, my dear professor,” she slyly said.
For the next two hours, they traded many stories about their lives. He heard about her challenges with drugs, her parents, and her guilt about her brother. For his part, Jackson was more forthcoming about his life than he had ever been. He told her about his son, ex-wife, and his life as a prosecutor. But, he also dug deeper.
He told Amy something he had never told anyone else about why his marriage ended. He confessed to her about the affair that he had with a fellow prosecutor. He related how his betrayal cost him his wife, his son, his family. Pam, his wife, had a nervous breakdown. She had even attempted suicide. Eddie was young then, but the scars still ran deep. For the first time, Jackson also admitted that his ego led to both his affair and challenges in the office.
“I was so determined to be the best in the office that I became selfish and singularly driven. I lost my way,” he said.
The transgression also nearly cost him his career. Jackson ended up leaving the U.S. Attorney's office after having been there six years, but only a handful of people knew the truth and he resurrected his career with a stellar private practice. With each success, however, he remained haunted by his own guilt and by the types of clients he began to attract.
Amy seemed unfazed by Jackson's candor. She had been listening intently. The freshness and honesty of her youth made her impervious to judgment. Though Jackson did not know it, Amy found herself falling more deeply for him because he chose to be honest with her about his past. She then asked Jackson about why he would give up a successful and growing practice to teach history at the college level.
That very question had gnawed at Jackson, his ex, his former colleagues, and friends for the last ten years. Sitting at dinner with Amy that night, Jackson felt that he could, for the first time, articulate why he had changed careers.
“Early on, as a prosecutor,” he said, “it was pretty straightforward. Nearly everyone was guilty so I cut deals and honed up on my trial skills against mainly guilty defendants who had nothing to lose by going to trial. I developed a nice reputation and my confidence grew. When I left the U.S. Attorney's office, I had a certain buzz about me, so I was getting some really good retained clients.
“And, I really enjoyed representing the roguish client who was not trying to hurt anyone, but was just a criminal because that was all they knew. One client like that was Luther. Luther was an out and out crook. He stole from banks, broke into rich folks’ homes in northwest, wherever he thought there was something he could steal. But Luther was a lovable rogue. He was good looking and the women loved him. He had his main girlfriend who would visit him the most while he was in jail and then he had at least two other women visiting him as well.
“As his lawyer, I began to feel like I was running interference for him. But none of the ladies ever crossed paths. Well, Luther was up for a felony for stealing a bunch of jewelry from a jewelry store on upper Wisconsin Avenue. He went to trial and because some big Hollywood actress, who happened to be in D.C. at the time witnessed the crime, all the major news outlets covered the case. Both Luther and the starlet testified at the trial. Luther absolutely loved the attention.
“Well sure enough, the jury believed the Hollywood starlet more than Luther and he was convicted on all counts. As I was walking with him leading him out of the courtroom, with about twenty cameras following us, a reporter yelled out, 'Luther, any final words?' Luther stopped suddenly, looked straight into the camera and said, 'I just want to say one thing and this is something I told my lawyer. I want to send all the love in the world to my woman and I am going to fight to get back into your arms. Love you, baby!' He then blew a kiss into the cameras.”
Amy, who was clearly enjoying Jackson share so much of himself burst out with a girly laugh. “What happened after that?” she asked.
“I swear to God,” Jackson said, “my office got calls from about ten to fifteen women wanting to hear directly from me what Luther had told me about them. That guy was something else,” Jackson said shaking his head and sipping a cup of after-dinner coffee.
“So,” Amy pressed, “what made you give it all up?”
Getting serious again, Jackson answered directly. “Yes, Amy, the lovable rogues were fun clients. But in that field of criminal law, the more success a defense lawyer has, it seemed to me like the more despicable your clients get. I had always thought that all people had a good side. But, I ran into a couple of clients that were just plain evil. It got to the point where I would throw up before going into a room with them. Pure bad seeds. I started to have health issues, and I lost weight - my doctors said that all it was stress. So, I quit. I gave it all up after just three years.
“To this day, my ex never understood and said it was another example of me being selfish and selectively self-righteous. She may have been right to some degree. But to be honest, I was trying to save my sanity. After the hurt that I had caused, I could no longer be an advocate for those who also hurt others so maliciously.”
Jackson looked up at Amy, whose eyes were tearing up. “You are a good man, Jackson Lowery.”
After dinner, Amy was going to call an Uber to take her back to her apartment, and Jackson was going to take his regular jaunt down the Exorcist steps to his apartment near the Whitehurst Freeway.
“Sorry for the generational question,” Jackson said. “But you do know about the Exorcist and the steps here in Georgetown, right?”
“Of course, I do! That is one of my favorite old school movies. I’ll admit that I have always been leery of the steps, so I have never actually visited them. Are they close by?”
“Right across the street,” he said, smiling.
By now, it was dark. Jackson grabbed Amy's hand and pulled her catty-corner from the restaurant and walked her to the front of the steps.
Amy acted frightened and grabbed him. “Please protect me, Jackson!”
They both started laughing.
Jackson then cupped her face, bent down and kissed his student. It was a long, tender and sweet kiss. Over the past few weeks, they had spent countless hours together. But, all of those hours had well defined limits. The boundaries were clear. They had been like two dancers mirroring each other's movements without any touching. That one kiss exploded the boundaries and all of the previous limitations. The two dancers were ready to touch, to slow dance in each other's arms.
When they finished that first kiss, they stared into each other's eyes. Both were wondering if tonight would be the night. They were about to kiss again when they were interrupted by the Uber driver blowing his horn. Even he was smiling when they looked in his direction.
Jackson put his arms around Amy as he walked her toward the car.
“Happy Birthday,” he said, while looking in her eyes.
Amy was beaming. “Thank you, Jackson Lowery. And, thank you for a lovely dinner.”
&nb
sp; “My pleasure, Amy Duncan. We must do it again.”
“I am sure we will, sir!”
With that, Amy climbed into her Uber and left.
Jackson's thoughts were broken by the horns of a couple of eighteen-wheeler trucks. At first, he thought that they were honking at him. Looking in his mirror, however, he could see that they were actually honking at each other. One truck had drifted into the lane of another. Jackson plowed on toward Ohio.
SIX
“Okay, people, let's walk through it,” Livermore yelled out while standing in front of his team. “Time to see how much progress we have made tracking that black bastard down.”
Pointing to the satellite and digital imaging screen in front of him, he said, “Here we go, step by step. We drop him off at Washington Harbour a little after 8, say 8:15, right?” He points to the Harbour image on the screen map while most in the room are nodding their heads. He gets up, has no wallet, money, keys or phone and stumbles into his apartment.”
He points to Jackson's residence on Cecil Place. “Joanie,” he says, pointing to a heavy-set woman sitting on the third row. “Keep track of the mistakes as I call them out.” Joanie nods.
“Mistake number one: we assumed that he would be unconscious on those steps for at least an hour, maybe two. That mistake gave him the head start he needed to get away.”
Several people were taking notes.
“Let’s walk through it,” Livermore continued. “The professor goes to his house, which has been searched thoroughly by us, correct?” Heads nod.
“And we take care to make sure it does not look like a break-in, since we want him to look OJ-like, in panic mode. That is why we left the door open. Since we had made that decision, we also searched wanting to make sure that he had no money, nothing at all that could aid him in flight. Ladies and Gentlemen, by now, isn't it fair to say that we missed something?” Livermore's voice is rising now. “Is it reasonable to assume that he had cash hidden in his house that we missed, enough cash to help him escape?”
The Plan (The Jackson Lowery Trilogy Book 1) Page 4
