“Frank, stop. There is no one on the planet I would rather have do my wedding dress,” I say honestly. “No one else knows me and what I do and don’t like, like you do.”
He squeals again. “Oh, good.” Then he yells toward the bathroom, “Gertie, my love, did you hear that?”
“How could I not?” she hollers back.
****
Our interview goes well, and I’m thankful Red Hawk is done and over with. Thank goodness I don’t have to worry about the team and Samson and Grady while we give our perfect little textbook answers. I’m still worried about Samson, of course, but no news is good news for now. His tracker showed him moving to a different compound and then moving within that compound. He is still moving, so he is still alive.
As Dougall mentioned at least three times tonight, in just ten days, we will be going through another vote. Elizabeth and Maverick were just sure once they were gone, more and more votes would be pouring in for us. Will they really?
If you look at Attie and Knox as competitors, they are way more likely to get more votes, and definitely the voters that would have been voting for Elizabeth and Maverick. Attie is the Culling sweetheart and Knox is one of the most intelligent people I know. Matter of fact, I’m not sure they aren’t the best couple for the job.
And I still can’t help but wonder where we would be sitting in all of this if Elizabeth and Maverick wouldn’t have interfered. Would we have gone home instead?
It’s crazy to think that in just ten days, the Culling will be down to the final two couples. Even crazier yet to think that in two weeks after that, there will be a brand new Presidential Couple. By New Year’s, President Maxwell will be stepping down and a new couple will be transitioning into that role.
Really, it would all be exciting if it weren’t for the issue of what will happen to our country if Marisol is in charge. If by some magical occurrence, they could go home in ten days and we would go to the finals with Attie and Knox, I would be overjoyed. That’s how it should be, but that isn’t going to be what happens. Either Attie and Knox are going home, or we are. When Marisol blackmailed Henry the day I chose Lyncoln, she solidified her spot in the final two.
And then again, I am reminded of Lyncoln and my biggest running argument. If we do go home in ten days, where will we go? We can stay in Denver. We can go to Omaha. It’s only at the final two the candidates’ families are relocated to Denver.
For that matter, do my parents really want to move? My dad loves the land. Nothing gives him greater joy than harvesting a crop he personally nurtured to fruition. Will there be anything for him to do here? What will my parents do? I’m not as worried about Ashton. I know he would want to do something in the military. He hasn’t ever been as wrapped up in Omaha as my dad. But my parents, what do they even want to do? It isn’t something we really ever talked about since before the Culling it wasn’t even an option.
I think about this time of year and all the long hours we spend in the humidity of the greenhouses. Do I see Lyncoln chipping in, feeding the animals and watering the crops? Not at all. Can he maybe do something for the military from Omaha though? And if he can, will it be enough compared to what he does here? He likes to be in charge. It’s just in his nature.
There are just so many ifs about this whole thing that it makes my head hurt. I originally didn’t know if I would make the first two cuts, and now here I am hoping and praying that I will make it to the final two. And I still want to win it all. Not just because Marisol is evil and I am good…
I want to win for me. Some of my friends said they didn’t want this, this job and the responsibilities of it. For some strange reason, I still do. I think I can do this. That doesn’t mean it will be easy. And call me naïve, but I just think I can do this.
Then I think about the Culling itself rather than the presidency. There have been so many good times… all the laughing with Marcia, the balls, the girls’ nights, meeting Lyncoln. There have also been some of the worst and most horrible times of my life… Oliver dying, shooting Isabella, breaking Henry’s heart and his getting stuck with the Hadenfelts. So much has happened I’m not even sure I’m the same person anymore. I do, however, think I am tougher and wiser for it. I just have to wonder if I spend the rest of my life doing this, who will I be by the end of it?
Will I even recognize myself?
And worse, what other tragedies await me?
****
“Tell me we’re going to arrest him tomorrow,” I say hopefully, almost begging Taggert. We are having a special Tuesday super-secret meeting upstairs, this one about all things Hadenfelt.
The President smiles. “Not yet, my dear. Not yet. Very soon though.”
“Excuse me, what?!” I ask frustrated and surprised.
Judging by Lyncoln and Henry’s expressions, they are right there with me in the frustrated boat. Apparently it is a small boat. That we are trying to row upstream. Without oars.
Earlier today the cabinet met about what to do concerning the Hadenfelt situation. He is guilty, of more than one thing, and this time we have enough on him to arrest him.
“He has so much dirt on so many different people that everyone wants to make sure that when we make our move, he will go down and stay down. For good,” Taggert explains. “Timing is everything.”
“Soooo… meanwhile we let someone who is making deals with our enemy continue to meet up with them?” I offer then add, “Isn’t he on suspension anyway? Why is this even happening? How is this even happening?”
The President smiles with his understanding demeanor again. “He is on suspension, yes. From his job and he can’t go near DIA. He can, however, leave his house. Taggert and I have Jaden working on this. We want to know where he goes and how long he is gone. It could give us another in for getting some drifter leaders. But, he never seems to even leave so we can’t catch him red-handed.”
I let out a frustrated sigh and look at the ceiling.
“I know you don’t at all like it, Ms. Scott, but it is best for everyone for now,” Taggert comments. “We don’t just want to arrest him, we want to nail him with it.”
I lose it. I absolutely lose it. My temper roars to the surface and for once I am so sick of the politics that I just let her fly. Give her wings and let her rip.
“Is it really best for everyone to wait? I do recall that same thing being said before we arrested Isabella and how did that turn out? Oh, that’s right… Oliver died. And he wasn’t a ‘casualty’ or ‘collateral’, he was a living, breathing person,” I pause, taking two heavy breaths and realize I’m standing though I don’t remember when I did. “This sure isn’t best for Henry. It isn’t best for the Culling. It may be best for the people he blackmailed and you and your acquiring ‘targets’, but it sure as hell isn’t best for the country. And of course the cabinet, with some of them having loyalty to him, are going to want to stall.”
I dig my fingernails into my palms because I’m so mad. “Maybe everyone should take a step back and understand that we’ve got him. We’ve finally got him good enough that he can and will rot in jail for this. He won’t be able to release any of the dirt he has on people if he’s rotting away in a prison cell rather than roaming free. The longer you wait, the greater chance there is that he and his daughter will be running our country. Get him while you can and nail him with it later.”
No one seems to want to look me in the eyes but Lyncoln, so I leave, swiftly exiting down the hallway with the door banging shut behind me.
“Dude, wait up,” Jamie says in surprise as I storm past him. He jogs to catch up as I keep pace for the elevators.
“Sorry,” I mutter. I’m not mad at Jamie, but my voice still sounds angry.
“Whoa, you okay? What just happened back there, Reagan?” he asks worried. “You look pissed.”
“They may have just killed us all,” I respond, feeling an evil sense of foreboding.
****
There’s a knock on my door a solid hour later. I
open it, knowing who it is without having to check. Funny that he actually knocks this time. I must have looked even more mad than I felt.
He looks me over concerned. “Do you want me to leave you alone? Let you cool off?”
“No,” I say softly. I have cooled down considerably since leaving the meeting. I also know it isn’t Lyncoln’s fault that Hadenfelt hasn’t been arrested. He may have pull with Taggert, but Taggert and the President are the ones calling the shots here. Not Lyncoln.
He comes on in and heads for the couch. “For what it’s worth, I know you’re right. The risks of not arresting him right away far outweigh the benefits of using him to draw out our targets or trying to catch him red-handed to put him away for longer.”
I sigh. “Thank you,” then I add, “I kind of feel bad for being a jerk.”
He snorts. “Don’t. They needed to hear it. I had already told Taggert my own version of that earlier today, but he obviously didn’t listen to me either.”
“What are they thinking? How do they not see what a monumental mistake this is?” I ask, feeling completely flabbergasted and overwhelmed.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “They’ve all been around Hadenfelt so long a lot of them are just scared out of their minds, I imagine. To them, it might seem easier to ignore his evil rather than be in the crosshairs of it. They never thought they could get rid of him, or they thought the Culling was the only way to do it.”
Yet here he is, closer to winning the Culling than ever before. “That’s stupid. And we don’t allow the drifters to treat us this way, so why should we allow one of our own?”
“Good question. And trust me, numerous times I have thought about going rogue and taking out Hadenfelt myself,” he clenches his jaw when he says his name and I can hear the same hatred in his voice that I feel towards that man.
“If he wasn’t such a snake, I would tell you to do it. But, knowing him, he would take you down with him.” I shake my head telling him no.
He pulls me by the hand down on the couch beside him, one hand immediately on my knee. “It will work out, Regs. Give it some time.”
“I hope you’re right.” I just can’t seem to shake the feeling that something is going to go wrong, just like last time.
Chapter 22
In a meeting with Dougall the next morning, Lyncoln and I find out we have to present a proposal to the Board, a proposal of something that we wish to accomplish if voted into office, something from our own agenda. We are to present our idea and answer questions on our proposal in a live interview for the State. Since by this point everyone knows our position on different political topics, this is the first chance we get to come up with something new and personal that we would want to implement ourselves. The topic we choose to present on will hold a lot of weight as it will clue the country in as to where our priorities lie.
For some reason, I’m glad for another project… one that doesn’t involve a super-secret military plan. This I can do while I wait out the next eight days for the vote. This is something new I can throw myself into.
“So, what are your ideas?” Dougall asks.
“Well, it will either be Lyncoln’s military upgrading formed into some sort of cohesive plan, or…” I say, thinking out loud, “Or my idea of creating a council of sorts that pulls people from each township together to collaborate on projects.” I then briefly explain to Dougall about Marcia and her water project and how it would help if she could collaborate with people from other townships.
“Interesting,” she nods. “Either will do. It’s up to you. Keep in mind this will be their first chance to see how you want to lead.”
“Reagan’s idea,” Lyncoln says firmly.
“But yours is important and especially now,” I argue, turning toward him.
“Yes, but the country doesn’t know that because they don’t even know about the drifters,” he reasons. “Plus, I have my hands full this next week over at DIA. I mean, I will help as much as I can, but I am going to be pretty tied down.”
Doing what, I wonder? More secrets? Or will he tell me later? The end of his “two weeks” is rapidly approaching.
“Sounds like that is settled then. The Board will purposefully try to pick apart your idea to see how well thought-out it is. Come prepared. They won’t go easy on you,” Dougall says with that evil glint in her eyes.
****
Lyncoln wasn’t kidding when he said he had a busy week. In fact, I don’t see him at all the rest of the day Wednesday except when he checked in with me right before bed. Thursday was the same other than his radioing over to tell me the usual super-secret Thursday meeting wasn’t going to happen since we had just met on Tuesday.
I wonder what he is up to and why he isn’t telling me about it, especially after he just told me he had considered taking down Hadenfelt himself. I’m sure he wouldn’t though… right? For as “bad boy” as his persona is, and even though he may disagree with Hadenfelt from time to time, he wouldn’t jeopardize his career or our shot at the Culling by doing something rash.
But, his absence bothers me more than I let on. Instead of sitting around and thinking it to death, I get to work on our idea to present to the Board. He isn’t around to help or ask questions to, so when I need help, I head to Attie’s room. They are doing their project on better training and medical technology across the townships. It’s going to be really great, and I would expect nothing less from them.
Lyncoln is so “busy” in fact, the only time he’s even around to work on our presentation is a whopping four hours before our interview in which we are to present our idea. He apologizes at least three times as he knows his not knowing what the heck we are doing adds to the stress of the situation. What if they point blank ask him a question and not me? And he doesn’t have a clue how to answer? I normally wouldn’t be nervous about a presentation like this, but because of the situation he has put us in, I am beyond nervous. This proposal could sway a ton of votes in our direction. Or, it could lose us just as many.
I’ve been struggling with my emotions. I want to be mad at him. I want him to understand this is important and that I have been slaving away by myself over something that was supposed to be a joint effort. But, at the same time, I know whatever he’s doing must be more important, or he wouldn’t have left me to fend for myself. I think what annoys me the most out of everything is that he won’t just tell me what is going on.
While I wait for Lyncoln to change into his suit, I pace in my dress, going over my notecards, which actually have something on them for once.
“I really am sorry I put you in this position, Regs,” Lyncoln says softly, making me glance up. He’s leaning in the doorway and must have came in without me hearing.
I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say without sounding bitter or upset and I don’t want to go there right before our presentation. I don’t want to be that whiny pouty girl, so I just don’t say anything at all. I can’t tell him it’s okay because it’s not. But I can’t blame him or accuse him of deserting me until I know the whole story.
“You look amazing,” he adds affectionately.
I’m wearing a red dress, or strawberry as I refer to it, because it looks almost pink sometimes. It is a chiffon material that cascades like a waterfall from in between my breasts and swoops down to my hips before flowing to the floor. Underneath the chiffon waterfall, the bodice is tight. There isn’t a low back or a slit. It is very elegant and all business. My hair is elegantly up, and I have a necklace on I don’t want to know how much is worth.
Lyncoln is wearing a black suit with the same color of shirt and vest as my dress and a black and grey tie. Yet again, we match perfectly. He smells amazing, and I realize how much I have missed seeing him these last few days. When I was at DIA with Samson, even though we didn’t get to spend our days completely together, I would see him from a distance and he would always check in regularly.
“You look good, too,” I offer defeatedly as a peace offering
. I really don’t want to fight. Not right now. We really need to rock the socks off this interview right now. That’s the priority, though my temper would really like to have her way with him.
“Are you ready?” he asks, sensing my mood and not sure what else to say or do.
I want to snap at him and ask him if he is ready since he is the one who isn’t prepared. I bite the side of my lip and somehow manage to not bite his head off. What’s important is that we crush this interview so that we can have all the votes we possibly can in one short week. We really need to make it to the final two.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I nod with a sigh and take his arm to leave.
He doesn’t say much as we head down. Frank and Gertie do some last-minute adjustments on each of us, and then we are sitting before Dougall and the rest of the Board. It would feel like a normal panel if it weren’t for the cameras and lighting placed throughout.
Dougall greets us, “Ms. Scott. Mr. Reed. Good evening.”
After we return the greeting, she says some stuff into the camera before turning it over to us. “Please explain to the Board what you have for us, your proposal you would like to incorporate if voted into office.”
Each of the Board members, including Mr. Winters and Mr. Alexander, have a notepad to take notes and are listening intently.
Here it goes.
I begin, “Simply stated, we would like to develop a committee consisting of people from each township, who collaborate together on projects with the goal of integrating them across all the townships. So in other non-fancy words, one big committee, the first of its kind that takes people from each township and throws them together to get stuff done.”
A few of them nod in understanding as I continue, “We have determined the best way to go about this is to elect between two and five people from each township to serve on this committee. The committee will then meet with the other members once a month, maybe more, maybe less, depending on the need. These members must be the best and the brightest from across the townships and must be active in their home township attending all council meetings and staying informed with all projects across their township. Then, when meeting with the other members, they will know what to vie for and what their township needs in order to be more successful. In making each township more efficient and successful, it will snowball to the other townships and ultimately improve our country across the board. Improvements made in one township should not be limited to helping only that township anymore.”
The Fracturing: Book 2 (The Culling Series) Page 31
