by Martha Carr
“A suspect is dead,” he said, clenching his fists. Too many loose ends to even begin to know where to start.
“Honey, the phone’s for you.” His wife had been calling for him over and over again. “Are you down there? It’s the Vice President.”
Richard felt a chill that went straight through to his bones and he wondered for a moment if he could make his legs stay stiff enough to hold him upright.
“Are you going to get the phone?”
He slowly picked up the phone from its cradle and put it to his ear. “Hello?” he said, hesitantly.
“Mr Bach, this is Ellen Reese. I’m about to be sworn in as the new President so I only have a moment. I want to talk to you about an open position as soon as possible. Can you be here first thing in the morning?”
“Yes, Madame Vice President, yes,” he said, trying not to sound surprised. “You mean the White House?”
“Yes, Mr. Bach. I mean the White House. Let’s sit down for a long talk, shall we? And I trust you won’t have anything to discuss with anyone else until our meeting?”
“Of course. I understand,” he said in a daze. He wasn’t sure if he was being called for a job or his execution but he was going to have to show up and find out. Another Robin Spingler, he thought. The world never runs out of angry women and I attract them one by one.
Phil stopped the car halfway up the driveway at the house in the West End, and let Norman and Ned out of the car. Tom stopped the other kids from getting out just yet. “Wait a few minutes,” he said. “They’ve earned this reunion.”
Ned held Norman’s hand as they walked the rest of the way down the driveway to their kitchen door. Norman seemed unsteady on his feet as he tried to take in that he was really free. They came to the door just as Wallis threw it open. She was expecting to find just Ned, safe and sound, and to feel relief at just that.
“Norman,” she whispered, her eyes growing wide. “Norman? You’re here?”
He walked slowly up to her and put his hand against her cheek as he smiled. “You must have a million questions,” he said.
She put her cheek against his, feeling the hard stubble against her skin. “None of them matter right now. Not one of them.” She stood back and looked at him. “You’re alright?”
“No worse for wear,” he said, gently pat-patting the back of his head.
Wallis felt her eyes well up at the telltale sign of Norman trying to hide how worried he really was and she reached out and slowly wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. “Nothing was as good without you,” she said.
She reached out and grasped Ned’s hand and Norman pulled him in close. “He let me go,” said Norman. “He just let me go.”
Wallis brushed the tears off of her face. “That can’t be good. But whatever it is, we’ll figure it out and come at it together.”
“As a family,” said Ned, looking up at his parents.
“We’ll come at it as a team this time, and include our own peculiar neighborhood,” said Wallis, looking toward the neighbors’ houses.
“Having operatives as neighbors will finally come in handy,” said Ned.
“No more pretending we’re just like everybody else. This time we take the fight to them.”
“You may not have any choice,” said Tom, walking up with Juliette, Trey and Jake.
“Jake?” said Norman. “Where’s your dad? Where’s Mark?”
“He was looking for Jake,” said Tom, “but we at least cleared that one up. He’s on a plane and we’re going to need him.”
“Why, what’s happened?” asked Wallis.
“So much, but we should go inside. We’ve been played and really well. Management thinks we all set them up so we could humiliate them. They will be out for blood. Our blood in particular.”
“This time we will meet them with a plan of our own,” said Wallis.
“And the President has been killed. The Vice President is being sworn in as we speak.”
“Dear God,” said Wallis.
“What’s happened in one week?” asked Norman, looking unsteady.
“The world has shifted,” said Tom. “Come on, I’ll tell you what I know, and then I need to get out of town as quickly as possible. It would be better for everyone if I go back to my small house in Wisconsin.”
“I think we’re rich now,” said Ned, as they went into the kitchen, still holding each other’s hands.
“What?” asked Wallis and Norman.
“It’s true,” said Tom. “Your son is just about a billionaire, give or take a few million. He stole it from George Clemente with just a computer and this super brain of his.”
Norman took his son’s face into his hands, smiling, and started to laugh, hugging him close. Wallis smiled at Ned, who was pressed hard against his father.
“I suppose it’s a kind of win,” said Wallis, smiling despite the small bit of worry over what was coming next. This is all just a preview, she thought, keeping it to herself. Let them have this moment.
Helmut and Father Donald found Fred holed up in a Days Inn near Fredericksburg. The motorcycle was parked in the back. Fred already knew about the President before they could get to him. He came quietly with them and they rode in silence as fast as they could for the closest tunnel that could lead them to the Cathedral. The Bishop was waiting for them when they got to the heavy wooden door.
“Thank you for coming,” said the Bishop, “there isn’t much time. We have to close off this section of the tunnel, immediately.”
“The new President is in the Circle,” said Helmut. “We can still leave it open.”
“The new President has turned her back. We think she may have gone over to George Clemente’s side. This is very bad,” said the Bishop.
“It may be worse than that,” said Helmut. “Ned showed me all of the transactions he was able to track from George Clemente and I noticed a few odd outliers.” Helmut saw Fred pull an envelope out and fold it before putting it back in his pocket.
“Come in, come in,” said the Bishop, backing into the small anteroom. “Talk quickly. They will be coming to cover over the exit soon and then it will be as if it never existed. That will make it nearly impossible to safely move Mr. Bowers,” he said.
Fred was still not saying a word.
“George Clemente has been moving sizable amounts of money in and out of Angola and he’s been making lengthy trips there as well. Most of the money can be traced to government officials, particularly in their infrastructure. It may be related to all of their natural resources but I doubt it.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Father Donald.
“Because the man now has the money he stole from Management right from under their noses, but Clement couldn’t have gotten all of the money that way. Management would be bankrupt and that doesn’t appear to be the case. He must have made a deal or two with some very powerful places.”
“China,” said Father Donald, grasping the size of the problem.
“It would look that way. Somehow Angola is mixed in there too. I suppose as a supplier of something. But buying gold or oil isn’t really to his benefit and he doesn’t need to speculate. He’s after something else, and somehow it involves China. That’s where most of the other outliers lead to but I can’t see the connection.”
“And when you fail to grasp the connections George Clemente is making, you lose on an epoch scale,” said Father Donald.
“Indeed,” said the Bishop.
“He’s like a cockroach,” said Helmut.
“Worse,” said the Bishop. “Cockroaches don’t scatter in every direction with a plan. They only fill in the opportunities they find.”
There was a hard knock at the door. Helmut and Fred took a step back, wondering who had found their way through the secret part of the tunnels.
“Thank goodness, he made it in time. Open it, open it,” said the Bishop.
Helmut stepped forward to pull on the door, getting it to slowly move.
Father Michael stood in the tunnel, his face visible in the light from a lantern he was holding aloft. “Is he ready?”
“I haven’t told him yet,” said the Bishop. “There’s been way too much to say with absolutely no time.”
“Fred,” said Father Michael, speaking quickly. “You’re coming with me. There’s no place for you anymore out here in the world everyone else lives in. I think you know that.” His voice took on a gentle, firm tone. “Your last chance at rebuilding something died with the President. But we still have a plan for you and you can be very useful.”
“What’s happening?” asked Helmut. “Fred?”
“It’s okay,” Fred finally said. It was the first words he had said since they had found him. “He’s right, I can’t stay around here.”
“Well, you can’t stay around here as Fred Bowers. But it’s amazing how someone in a priest’s frock can blend into a background. The Order of the White Rose is going to protect you. We believe we have a common mission with you. This will give you purpose.”
“Find and kill George Clemente,” said Fred, clenching his jaw.
“Exactly, and the sooner the better. I’m afraid he has finally found a plan that could work and there will be more destruction to follow. He has the world believing that Wallis Jones tried to use her position to bring down Management. Remember, no one knew Norman had been kidnapped,” said Father Michael.
“I misjudged everything,” said the Father, shaking his head. “I had a chance. There was an opening but in my arrogance I thought I knew him well enough to know what he was doing. Now, the opposition sees Wallis as a traitor, which is worse than an enemy. The whole family will have to be protected, along with everyone they love. They think Fred did her dirty work for her. In the end, a rather simple plan with a certain amount of elegance I didn’t think Clemente possessed.” The Father looked tired but tried to muster a smile.
“They’re here,” said the Bishop, motioning to the men who started coming out of the shadows carrying picks and shovels or pushing wheelbarrows full of dirt and silt. “It’s time.”
“Will we meet up again?” asked Helmut.
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” said Father Michael. “Unfortunately, George Clemente will make sure of that, one way or another. Let’s get moving and when we get to the place where the tunnel forks, we will be going one way and you and Father Donald will go back the way you came.”
“There isn’t time for long goodbyes, so get it over with,” said Father Donald.
“One day, this will all be over,” said Helmut, looking at his old friend.
“It’s been hundreds of years. Our lifetimes aren’t going to be enough,” said Fred.
“I’m going to refuse to believe that and keep on fighting,” said Helmut. “Mainly because I’ve never known when to stop. George Clemente may be the worst human being who’s ever risen up inside of Management, which is saying something. But, if we can figure out what he’s doing on this massive, global scale, maybe we can pull him down and end all of this.”
“Or die trying,” said Fred.
“Well, yeah, that goes without saying,” said Helmut, as he shook Fred’s hand. “Till we meet again.”
“This life or the next,” said Father Donald.
“Don’t ruin the moment,” said Helmut, turning away from his friend with a salute as Fred walked backwards for a few feet, into the shadows of the tunnel.
Pre-order The Watchers’ Revenge, Book 5 starting on December 22nd on Amazon.
Will also be available for sale on Amazon and in KDP starting January 9th.
The Watchers’ Revolt
Book Five
Chapter 1
Daniel Kozak gave a nervous smile as he signed his name to the ledger, showing the key for the safe deposit box and his identification. He was standing in a small room of safe deposit boxes that went from floor to ceiling on three sides with a tall, thin table bolted to the floor that stood exactly in the middle.
The pretty bank manager that had escorted him in, pulled a universal key out of her pocket that was attached to a heavy brass circle, inserting it into the left side of one of the small boxes as he inserted his key on the right and they both turned a half measure clockwise. The cover to the box easily swung open, revealing the locked box behind it.
Just as she was dropping the key ring back into her jacket pocket he gently patted her on the back to move her out of the way. At the same time he neatly lifted the key ring out of her pocket, replacing it with a key ring of similar weight with a similar-looking key. That way it would be a while before she noticed the absence.
She blushed and gave a surprised, “Oh,” as she scooted to the side of the long table, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she looked up at Daniel, smiling. He towered over the petite bank clerk even in the tall heels she was wearing. It helped that she was trying to flirt with him, pushing back her long brown hair over her shoulder.
He was happy to play along. “How is your day going?” he asked, smiling, the dimples in his cheeks deepening as he felt himself blushing. It always happened to him when he was nervous but this time it was only helping the act.
She lingered, leaning against the tall counter in the vault, telling him about something she saw in a club the night before and he realized he had made a mistake. He needed her to leave him alone.
“Do you have a card?” he asked, smiling again. “I’d like to see that club. Haven’t lived in Chicago for very long.”
“Of course,” she said, pulling an embossed card out of her pocket. She pressed it into his palm, leaving her hand there for an extra moment. “I’d be happy to show you,” she said.
“Well, I need to get back to work,” said Daniel, tapping on the top of the safe deposit box, ignoring the question that hung in the air.
“Right, of course,” she said, shaking her head as if she had just remembered something. She backed out of the vault and gave a small wave as Daniel waved back at her. He put her card in his coat pocket, not even bothering to read the name again, whatever it was and listened as her steps grew further away.
He waited till he was sure he was alone with the box before he turned and pulled out the bank’s universal key and a second small brass key, unlocking the small door next to the one he had rented just last week. This was already his third visit so that he could practice removing the key ring from the pocket of whoever helped him and replacing it again before they even left the vault. He was only going to get one chance and too much for too many people would be affected by this one brief heist.
He looked up at the camera in the corner, giving a salute. There was no hiding his face and he was sure the real owner of the box had more than enough means to get the right people to show him the video. He had no illusions about his chances of stealing something this precious and staying anonymous.
By the time George Clemente saw it, though, Daniel would be somewhere new, with a new identity. All that mattered was getting a look inside that box and hoping that his information was correct.
He already knew the source was reliable.
His hands were shaking as he moved as quickly as he could, pulling out another small brass key, unlocking the box.
The even row of small moleskin notebooks were exactly where his mother said they would be found. It turned out there was something good to be said about a paranoid man in search of a kingdom. They liked their routines, particularly when they believed no one else knew about them.
George Clemente was known for never saying much about what he was doing, especially to the foot soldiers he found to help him. But he kept a record of everything, none the less, for posterity.
But Daniel was a secret from Clemente from the moment he was conceived and it made him a threat to George Clemente, whether Clemente knew it or not.
Daniel’s mother, Eleanor was a former Watcher who had fallen in love with Clemente years ago when Clemente was still in an upper cell of the large and powerful group that had become known
as Management.
It was too late by the time Eleanor realized Clemente didn’t share her affection and was only passing the time. Daniel was already on the way.
Knowing she was about to become a mother made her listen to what he was saying in an entirely new light. All of his rantings about what Management could become if only they would use their extensive wealth and power to tighten up the loose ends, left her awake at night wondering how far he would go. He was fond of saying that the only way to victory was to finally extinguish their only real rival, the Circle and those within Management who were never able to pull their weight.
Purge whoever was getting in the way, permanently and move on with things. Finally come out into the open and expose the paper-thin democracy for what it wasn’t. Let the public see how much better the system had been running all along and round up anyone who was foolish enough to still believe in a Constitution.
She wondered if he found out about the baby if he would add her to the hit list.
“There has never been an actual, functioning democracy,” George had said, over and over again. “Everyone should know that, and then we will see what can really be done. Besides, all anyone cares about, really, is the long line to get their mocha latte or if they can afford a new car next year.”
Daniel’s mother said that was Clemente’s favorite rant.
Still Eleanor didn’t try to leave till she realized a child was on the way and time was running short.
Daniel ran his hand over the spines of the two rows of notebooks. Every secret, every convoluted plot, even the secrets Clemente held about others and used as extortion were supposed to be in these small notebooks.
They were the only known soft spot to exploit about someone who had managed to ruin so many lives. The only records he ever kept and his mother was one of the only people who had known about them and gotten far enough away from him to take the secret with her, and live, at least a little bit longer.
