by Ken Fite
“You got it fixed,” said Matthew.
He was pointing at my belt and a new, shiny gold shield affixed to it. I said nothing. Just nodded vaguely.
We walked together in silence. “You know what the meaning of a shield is?” I finally asked.
Matthew shrugged. “To show the bad guys that they should listen to you?”
I smiled. Kept my arm on his shoulder as we moved. Thought about his answer. “It’s a symbol of protection,” I said. “It gives authority to the people who wear them. It’s a reminder of our responsibility.”
Matthew got quiet for a spell. Then he said, “We learned about the Middle Ages in school. Knights used shields back then. They used them as protection from their enemies.” He looked back at my DHS badge. Furrowed his brow as he thought. “It looks like a miniature version of the shields the knights had.”
I didn’t respond. Just kept walking, thinking, deciding what I was going to say to the boy. We got to the end of the hallway. Turned a corner and saw Secret Service agents posted along the curve. Matthew and I slowed and came to a stop and just stood there together. I thought back to what Parker had told me about his father when he’d leave on long assignments. Parker’s words from a week earlier echoed in my mind. He’d said that sometimes the hardest goodbyes were the ones never said and never explained. He’d told me about how his father would leave for a while, but as a young boy, he knew his dad would always come back. Matthew stared up at me. I knew it might be a while before I saw him again. I thought about sending him upstairs to see his mom. Thought about just walking away. But then I changed my mind. “Matthew…”
“I know,” he said, interrupting me. “You’re not coming home with us, are you?”
I hesitated; then I shook my head slowly. I pointed at the old wooden bench we had sat on a week prior. We went to it and sat down, and Matthew stared at the floor for a long moment before he spoke again.
“I heard my mom talking to Aunt Jami this morning,” he said. “They thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t. They said you were going to stay. They said they were going to leave us alone to talk before we left.”
I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll always be there for you, Matthew. I hope you know that. But for now, I need to stay for a while and do something. I made a promise once to my dad.” I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering my father. Opened them and looked at the boy. “I just want to keep it.”
Matthew nodded.
“Opening Day is in a couple of months. I’ll come home, okay? We’ll go see the Cubs.”
Matthew smiled. Said nothing.
“You’re braver than you think you are,” I said. “Let me ask you something: were you scared last week when we were in the movie theater and we had to go underground?”
Matthew shook his head.
“Why not?”
He thought about it. “Because I was with you.”
“Yeah, but what about me? Did you think I was scared?”
Matthew furrowed his brow and stared at me like he hadn’t thought of that. “Were you?”
“A little bit,” I said and paused for a long moment. “I want you to remember something, Matthew: sometimes it’s okay to be scared. It just means—”
“You’re about to do something really brave,” he said, remembering what I’d told him a week earlier.
I smiled and looked him in the eye. “Matthew, everything’s going to be okay,” I said. And I meant it. Matthew smiled back. Then I checked my watch. “Let me walk you upstairs and take you to your mom.”
We stood. Matthew looked at me. Glanced down the long hallway and looked back. “I can go by myself.”
I looked past him. Saw it was a long way. He’d have to find his way upstairs all by himself. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. Stepped closer and gave me a hug. My ribs hurt, but I ignored the pain and hugged him back. Then Matthew walked away. He took about thirty steps and looked back at me. “Opening Day,” he said.
“Opening Day,” I said back.
I stood alone and watched him leave. Matthew looked back once and gave me a little wave. I waved back and he disappeared around a corner. Chef came out and found me. Asked if I wanted him to follow Matthew up to his room. I said no. What could go wrong in one of the most secure places on the planet?
I FOLLOWED THE same path out. Walked by the Secret Service agents. I knew a couple of them. They nodded at me as I passed, but said nothing. I got to the lobby and found the president there, waiting for his guests to come down to the car. I shook his hand. Said I’d be in touch soon. He said it’d be sooner than I thought.
Twenty minutes later, I was sitting inside a black DHS-issued SUV. It was just like Willis’s. Standard government vehicle. I was parked inside the Ellipse, the street that runs along the circumference of the fifty-two-acre park where many of President Keller’s staffers park each day. I had a perfect view of the White House. I sat in silence, staring at the entrance to the building. I watched as agents pulled a car up to the south portico. I saw a door open, and Matthew stepped outside and walked down the stairs. Jami and Kate came out right behind him. Their bags were loaded into the car and they all climbed inside.
I felt that pull again, the same pull I’d felt when I left them by themselves in the Treasury Building a week earlier. It was trying to convince me that I was making the wrong choice. That I should be with them, heading back home and to the old life I was leaving behind. I could picture Matthew sitting between his mom and his aunt, talking about his trip to the White House and about the baseball game I promised I’d take him to. Still, I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling I had in my heart. The feeling that I was going to be missing out on so much back home. I didn’t want to live with regret. But I also didn’t want to break a promise I had already made to my dad a long time ago. I thought about Matthew’s father for a moment. It brought back the hurt and the pain I had experienced after the death of my own father. Deep down, I wanted nothing more than to be there for the boy and be in his life. I still would. I was committed to that.
Just not the way I had planned.
I stepped out and stood with the door open. Watched them from afar and put my hands in my pockets. Felt the bent shield. I watched the car start to move. It rocked forward and picked up speed. Then it disappeared past the tree line, headed for the airport and a flight that would take them back to Chicago.
I thought about the last conversation I’d had with the boy. About shields and medieval knights. About danger and fear and about the meaning behind a shield. I stood there for a long time, thinking about it all.
Then I thought about Jon Miller and what he’d tried to teach me about family that night in Afghanistan. I’d asked him if he missed being with them. If he regretted being away and missing out on so much.
He’d told me that life required sacrifice. And that meant deciding what you were willing to give up. He’d said that family was the reason we fought. To protect and defend people like the ones he cared about. The ones he’d lost. I remembered the picture hanging over his cot. Don’t forget why we do this , he’d said to me. It’s a sacrifice, but it means something . I didn’t really understand it all back then. But I did now.
I wanted to be the shield for Matthew and for people like him. I wanted to protect and defend those who couldn’t do it for themselves. I wanted to be going back to Chicago, but I knew I had an obligation to stay.
I drew my jacket tighter. My phone buzzed in my pocket. “This is Jordan,” I said, pressing it to my ear.
“Need you down here,” said Parker. “Impromptu meeting with Mulvaney, want you at the table with me.”
I nodded to myself. “On my way,” I said as I clicked off and dropped the phone back into my pocket. I slid back into the driver’s seat and pulled the door closed. Shoved the key into the ignition and hesitated. That feeling in my gut returned. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Fought the urge to drive to the airport and join the people I cared about
.
I stayed in the car, thinking. One hand on the steering wheel, remembering my friend and thinking about his words about duty and honor and sacrifice. Then my thoughts shifted back to my father. How he never told me how to live. He just lived and let me watch him do it. Sometimes life requires us to decide what we’re willing to give up. And while I was committed to being a part of Matthew’s life, for now that meant sacrificing what I wanted for what I needed so I could make a difference the only way I knew how.
“Ten-eighteen, Jon,” I said as I started the motor and drove out of the Ellipse, headed toward the NAC.
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The Blake Jordan Series
The Senator: Blake Jordan Book 1
Credible Threat: Blake Jordan Book 2
In Plain Sight: Blake Jordan Book 3
Rules of Engagement: Blake Jordan Book 4
The Homeland: Blake Jordan Book 5
The Shield: Blake Jordan Book 6