* * *
Doug was watching Doctor Igor Krutova and his American medical team talk to Matt’s parents. He was eavesdropping. Krutova was telling them that although both of them had stopped breathing, they had been able to provide ventilation to get them through long enough for the antidote to work. After nearly an hour, both vents weaned them back to breathing on their own as their own respiratory systems came back into function. All their vitals looked good and it really looked like a miracle was at play here.
Doug stepped over and hugged Don and Sherry, and then told them he would find Matt. His parents were now really worried about him and what he might do if he thought Jan and Jon were dead. Doug took off and they sat and prayed.
* * *
Eric Barnett didn’t dislike the President, but he did note that the man went out of his way to always remind him he was the subordinate. Usually it was with something subtle, like bringing him in, yet extending a phone call he was on that wasted his time—like he was an idiot and time did not matter to him, only to the President. Eric got the game. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, his office was a caldron of stress swirling around like some witches brew. The man finally extracted himself from the call.
“Eric, how are you?”
“Okay, given the circumstances. Our country is in shock and thank God this time we had some answers to give.”
“What do we know about the shooter in Washington?”
“He’s an unknown. No prints and Malcolm’s shot removed his face. So it will be a long and arduous process finding his origins.”
“You mean his country of origin, don’t you, Eric? Not having fingerprints is a pretty good indicator that he was an outside contractor. My people think he was sent by Pablo Manuel as a insurance plan.”
“I will not assume any of that Chief, and you know it.”
“Very well, keep me posted on any new developments. Anything else?”
Eric looked at Kim. She did not allude to anything so he blurted, “Ray Callahan put in his resignation, effective after the dust settles here.”
The President was flabbergasted, “Why would he do that Eric? Kim, can you shed some light here?”
“Well, first of all, I just found out last night. I believe he’s doing it to clear the obvious conflict of interest our nepotism creates. He claims he just wants a simpler life. Either way, Sir, he’s earned it. I’m sure he will always make himself available in case anyone ever needs him to help solve a case.”
Kim made sure she used her “dagger eyes” on Eric while she said those words.
Getting into a pissing match with the boss’s favorite pet was never a good idea and Eric ate the words he really wanted to tell Kim after that last statement, “That will probably happen more than you like, Kim.”
“Okay, Eric, well please keep me abreast of any new developments about that shooter. I want to know who wants our boy Hurst dead or was that the last act of Pablo Manuel?”
As Eric was rising to leave he thought he would let these two know exactly who they were fucking with, “Oh yeah, we were able to track the laser shot, as you know.”
“Oh, we were unaware of that, how come that data was not available to us.”
“Because our country is fractured enough right now, and they don’t need to know that there was no Air Force satellite within five hundred miles of that laser shot. So the next time either of you pull this, “we’re better than you” shit on me, then I promise you there will be a thorough investigation into that laser shot. You two just do your time, vacate the job, and let the next man try to pull any of this stuff and watch what happens.”
Kim looked at Eric with her usual disdain, “Who says the next person in here is going to be a man?”
Eric laughed the laugh of a man who had won. He left the Oval Office with his tail feathers in a plume, not cropped as most who left here were. Overall, he was the big winner here. Pablo Manuel was dead and he removed Ray from his job, thus removing a spy within his House of Spies. He had also just one-upped two people who needed a little reality check. Eric was walking on sunshine as he stepped out of the White House and headed back to his job.
Albeit he now had to replace Ray, as far as he was concerned his building was full of Ray Callahans who just hadn’t had the chance. He doubted he would ever stoop so low as to ask Ray Callahan for help in the future. That was just a political statement he’d made to appease those two idiots—and those two fools would be gone soon enough.
* * *
Doug was frantically walking back to the elevator after talking to the front security guard, who said he had not seen Matt recently. Doug had checked every conceivable place. He’d checked all the floors, including the ER. He’d checked the roof, the stairwells, and the chapel. Matt was nowhere. He walked by the chapel and thought he would look in one more time, but it was still empty. Confounded, he was closing the chapel door when he noticed the tip of a shoe sticking out of the pew nearest to the Alter. Doug went running over to find Matt unconscious. He was lying at the base of the Jesus statue.
Then Doug saw movement and could tell he was sleeping by the heaving of his chest. He knew he needed to let him know in the fewest words possible that his family was okay so as to not give him one second of anxiety, “Matt, wake up. Matt.” Matt opened his eyes and Doug immediately stated, “It worked, their okay.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I heard Doctor Krutova tell your parents. They ventilated them till the antidote worked.”
Like an action figure from some eighties movie, Matt was running off again, badly hobbled from his ankle injury. Doug wondered when the poor guy was ever going to get to stop running?
* * *
Sandy Burroughs watched the TV and as usual, nothing made sense. He was now to believe that Pablo was culpable for the attacks on the innocent people of Seattle, then captured in a “clean the slate” move that reeked of Manual Noriega. No one was ever going to get the real story, and no one was ever going to see Pablo again. Sandy’s face was so troubled that Claire immediately noticed and went to sit next to him, staring into his worried face.
He looked at her and only spoke one sentence, but it carried all the weight it needed to, “We have to do something.”
* * *
As the man of industry looked out over his complex from his seat on top, he contemplated the last twenty-four hours. The person they needed removed still breathed and it complicated his corporation’s plans. His secretary buzzed his line and let him know his appointment was here. Ten seconds later a large blonde man entered his office and sat. The subordinate could not see his face, as he sat in the shadows.
He looked at his subordinate and questioned without salutations, “Can they identify him?”
The blonde man answered, “No, the CIA shooter removed his face.”
“That was a very fortunate thing, as this CANNOT get traced back to me in any way.” His face was very flushed and the man who worked for him was beginning to understand that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“It will not, rest assured.”
“Your life depends on it. Dismissed.”
The man of industry knew that he would not be able to remove Hurst right away, but he would sit and wait. He had time—and when the time was right, Matt Hurst was going to become a distant memory.
* * *
Matt sat between Jan and Jon. His parents, Doug, and Robert were on the fringe of the room. Matt had each of their hands and Jon’s hand started to squeeze Matt’s in a way that indicated he was coming out of it. Soon they were playing finger games and Jon started to giggle even though he still had his eyes closed. He opened his eyes and his first words were, “I have a headache.”
Matt started crying and said, “Okay, son, we’ll get the nurse in here to check you out.”
“Where are we, Daddy?”
“We’re in the hospital, Jon, but we’re okay now.”
Matt was stroking his boy’s head as Doug made the move
to get the doctors. Just then he heard the voice he was sure he would never hear again. Jan asked with her eyes still shut, “What did you do this time?”
Matt took her hand and said softy, tears streaming down his face, “It’s a long story, Babe, a very long story . . .
* * *
Rodrigo Arrologas grabbed his keys and hat, and then headed out of the care facility he worked for. He had a second job taking care of an elderly woman across town and he barely had time to stop home and eat before he headed out again. He was working so hard because he had to save money to go surprise his American love interest, Lauren Betton.
She was a patient at the hospital and he was her therapist. Rodrigo supposed that people always wanted what they couldn’t have. He had many girls who were interested in him here, some that rivaled Lauren’s looks even, but none that could match her aura.
Plus her looks were amazing—from her startling green eyes and the way her freckles sat gently on her face, or the way they ran to her breasts. Rodrigo flushed. Lauren did things for him that no other woman had even come close to, and he missed her daily. That was why he was saving his money to go sweep the woman he loved off her feet. He did not care what person she might be with, or what the circumstances he might find her, he would not be denied!
He put his key into the door lock of his Toyota Corolla, and as he was turning it, he’d heard the woman’s voice ask, “Can you give me a ride to the airport?”
He turned and asked her with incredulity, “Why are you here?”
“Why do you think? I came to take you home with me, so I can finally get some sleep.”
“Why your home?” His machismo showing a little at the “take the lead” stance his woman just took.
“Because I have a job I cannot leave.”
“I saw, you are quite the Internet sensation.”
“Will you go back with me?”
He drew in closer to her and got excited, especially at the thought that one day she would be fully recuperated. He always had to be so careful before when they made love, as she was very incapacitated. The thought of the two of them acting like animals was titillating him beyond all reason, “I was already saving my money to come and get you.”
The two embraced for a long time and Lauren finally felt the kind of love that she always thought she’d deserved . . .
To continue the saga of Matt Hurst and Pablo Manuel, watch for the third book in the Harbinger of Change Series, Chesed.
Other books from Timothy Jon Reynolds
The Harbinger of Change
When store detective Matt Hurst went to work that morning, he didn’t expect to see himself on the evening news as the target of a manhunt for the most wanted terrorist in the country. He didn’t dream he’d be seducing a beautiful spy and betraying his wife and country in order to save them. He didn’t imagine he’d be battling for his life against a psychotic CIA hit man. He didn’t guess he’d be playing a deadly game of mental chess with the most dangerous terrorist mastermind in the world. He didn’t expect that by the end of the day he’d be the only person who could save America from World War III. If you like political thrillers in the spirit of Robert Ludlum and Tom Clancy, you’ll want to read Timothy Jon Reynolds’ page-turner, The Harbinger of Change, the first of the “Harbinger of Change” series.
And the Meek Shall Inherit
Now, two years after American citizen Matt Hurst was kidnapped and coerced into betraying his family and country in order to save them, his time of waiting for revenge is over. He has bided his time effectively and has now placed himself in a position to achieve his end game of redemption. And the Meek Shall Inherit is the continued saga of Matt Hurst and Pablo Manuel. In order to survive the past two years, the American abductee has had to immerse himself in his captor’s world, so much so, that now that the time has come for him to act, will he be able to pull out all the stops to avenge his country’s and family’s honor? Or has the ideology of his captors taken a hold of him so deeply that he is now willing to act against his own country, something he'd already been falsely accused of doing? And the Meek Shall Inherit is a rollercoaster ride of international intrigue and military action, coupled with the inner-turmoil of the man who can stop it all—if he has the will to do so.
Chesed
Just past the one-year anniversary of the attacks on America and his family in Seattle, Matt Hurst could no longer duck the public’s need to know all the facts about the exploits of his life. Hoping that clearing the air would be the salve he needs to re-obtain autonomy, Matt and his family host a television special that clears all the speculation once and for all. Unfortunately for Matt, destiny has other plans for him, and yet again, he is thrown into a world of international intrigue and suspense. And once again, if he wants to get out alive, he will have to pull out all the stops, as his enemies are far more reaching and powerful than ever. Chesed balances action, intrigue, and the ruthlessness of the corporate world, with brotherhood and hope, lifting the reader to believe there really could be so much more for all of us.
About the Author
Timothy Jon Reynolds formerly worked as a criminal investigator for the Dayton Hudson Corporation. In his tenure there, he literally oversaw hundreds of criminal cases of almost every nature. It was there that started writing in his mind—even if he didn't know it at the time. After leaving that career for a safer one, he began working as a manager in the biomedical industry, eventually moving on to owning his own company. Nowadays he travels the northwest as a Sales Manager for the company that bought his, taking in and absorbing the places and people he visits and meets. All as fuel for his stories. His feeling is that writers, "need fresh faces and stories around them constantly, otherwise they will stagnate and the writing will suffer." When he is not traveling, Tim enjoys being a Northern Nevada resident with his wife and children, complete with all the civil liberties that great state provides.
Without Wrath (Harbinger of Change Book 3) Page 34
