Toward the Brink (Book 3)

by McDonough, Craig A.

  “But leave the luggage for later,” he said.

  The Tall Man had calmed some since their escape from the airport, but it wasn’t to last.

  The shit was about to hit the fan.

  The president, Tom, their wives, and the president’s children came into the cellar, followed by Secret Service agents who still stuck to their charges like glue. They were followed by three or four soldiers before Holmes stepped in, unaware of the presence of the president, Transky, or the Tall Man.

  “We’ll get your bags later. First let’s get you settled, then—” The Tall Man stopped when his attention was taken by the clomping boots of a camouflaged soldier down the oak stairs. The M4 carbine and sidearm he carried weren’t the Tall Man’s cause for concern, nor was the elderly man he forced in front of him. When the next man came in, the Tall Man was left speechless.

  Richard Holmes.

  “Well, well, well. They say it’s a small world, and I guess it just got smaller.” Tom Transky was the first to speak up after recognizing Richard Holmes.

  Like the Tall Man, the president was at a loss for words. He had no idea the Tall Man also had a connection to this man he considered a traitor not only to his own country but to the human race. To see Milton Etheridge in anything but fine form was just as much a shock, but there was an element of pleasure, too. It was a delight to see Etheridge fall from such stratospheric heights. And now it appeared he had lost support from Holmes, judging by the way he was dragged in.

  The Tall Man struggled to find words. Holmes eyeballed the man he knew, and had surreptitiously engaged, as Charles Black. Then he stared at the president. They were all here. Holmes was as stunned as they, but he was unaware that the Tall Man knew his identity.

  Holmes had always hired good people, but when he employed one Charles Black, he got the best. Holmes didn’t think anyone would be good enough or interested enough to track him down. But the Tall Man did. When the Tall Man, through intermediaries, was hired by Richard Holmes ostensibly to keep track of Phillip Baer and his operations for the “good of the country’s security,” the Tall Man had decided he’d better check on who it was he actually worked for.

  “Yes, it is a small world, is it not?” Holmes agreed. The air in Kath’s cellar was thick with tension.

  The president’s wife recognized Holmes as a key member of her husband’s administration, but that was all. She felt the bad blood too, but this wasn’t the time to ask.

  “Come on, you two, let’s see if we can get a bite to eat,” she said to her teenaged children and ushered them to the steps leading into the house.

  Elliot felt something as well. “Go and help my aunt Kath, will you, Cindy?”

  “But Elliot, there—”

  “Please, Cindy.”

  “All right, all right,” she snapped at him. “I’m going!”

  An uneasy silence gripped the room as all eyes watched Cindy go up the stairs.

  “So, is this old man still pulling your strings?” the president asked Holmes. He was alluding to Etheridge, who hadn’t focused enough to realize his current situation was far more detrimental to his survival than all those foamers at the airport—or Richard Holmes.

  “Well, as you more than aware, Mr. President, there’s been a slight change in the order of things.”

  “What? Did you say ‘president’?” Etheridge stammered.

  “Yes, he did. You do remember me, don’t you?” The president moved in front of Etheridge, a foot or so from his face.

  “Oh. Oh, my … Holmes, look who’s on the plane with us. It’s the—”

  “Never mind him, he’s been drinking,” Holmes cut in.

  The Tall Man went straight toward Richard Holmes, who still acted like he didn’t know him. “Yes, can I help you?” Holmes said.

  The Tall Man wanted to be sure, to hear the voice in close proximity again. He was sure. It was the Hidden One, as the Tall Man had referred to him.

  The Tall Man permitted a slight grin to form at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he said, “and I know who you are.”

  No sooner had the last word left his mouth than the heel of his right palm flew forward and struck Holmes under the nose. The force of the blow sent him backward to the floor. His arms flailed about him, and his busted nose sprayed red all over his face.

  “Careful, now,” Elliot said the soldier, who made a move for his M4.

  “Sure thing, I’m okay,” he replied when he saw the muzzle of Elliot’s Super Redhawk aimed toward his head. “He ain’t worth gettin’ killed for.”

  “Damn, that was a shot!” Tom couldn’t hold his excitement back when he saw Holmes dealt with like that.

  “Riley, take the others inside through the front door. We’ve got some business to attend to.”

  The Tall Man’s tone suggested this was not a time for dissension.

  * * *

  “Do you know this man?”

  “Yes, Mr. President. I once worked for him,” the Tall Man answered.

  While Mulhaven took the rest of the party around to the front door, the Tall Man told the group in the cellar of how, through associates, he’d met Richard Holmes, and how he was offered a high-standing security position with a company involved in the production and sale of insecticides and fertilizers.

  “I was introduced to a man named Langley, who filled me in. The job was internal security, all right, but my role was to control access to Phillip Baer’s formula. He was like this with all his products, be it fertilizer or snail killer. Langley told me to keep an eye on all of the employees and on Baer as well, which I found interesting. When I got the call to meet with a man in an underground parking garage, I realized that was more typical of intelligence operatives than private security, so I ran some to checks on my own regarding my employers.”

  Holmes sat up with a handkerchief to his bloodied nose, and Etheridge sat on a stool next to him. Etheridge was still under the effects of alcohol, but he was quite aware that he and Holmes were not in control of the situation. No one had realized this until it was well under way, but the two were on trial for crimes against the world.

  “You couldn’t run a check. These men were professionals.” Holmes spat blood onto the floor.

  “Found you, didn’t I? Thought you were so good hiding in the dark in parking garages, but I knew who you were.” The Tall Man was readying his arm to backhand the seated Holmes when he was grabbed from behind.

  It was the president who had taken his arm. He didn’t say anything, he just raised an eyebrow, and that was enough. For now.

  “Chuck, if we’re going to detail their crimes, we should do that in front of everyone. They deserve to know, too,” Elliot said. Perhaps he could see the need for open disclosure because he was not directly involved.

  “Yes, the young man is right. Everyone needs to know the deeds of these two. Everyone.” The president, like the statesman he was, encouraged an open inquiry.

  Everyone gathered in Kath’s living room, the largest room in the house, as if a major television event were about to take place—the invasion of Iraq, the first shuttle launch, or the moon landing. Everyone was glued not to the set, but to the two men in chairs at one end of the room.

  The soldiers and flight crews lined up on one side of the room, the president and his party on another. At the top of the room were the group from Twin Falls and Shoshone, and Kath—the lone representative of Prince George, and quite possibly the only local still alive.

  The two accused had been advised, as the Tall Man led them up the stairs, to remain silent if they knew “what was good for them.” Etheridge for the first time in years had no words, and Holmes’s experience told him it would be in his best interest to do as Mr. Black instructed.

  Kath had made sandwiches earlier with help from Margaret, Sam, and the first lady. Cindy had joined in with the domestic chores but had mumbled the whole time about what a grump Elliot had become, and how he valued Chuck just a little more than he should.

  W
ater was passed around, and it was accepted with enthusiasm before Tom Transky strode to the center of the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began in a subdued manner, “most of us gathered know one or the other of these men, and a few of us know or at least are aware of them both. Some of you know of their duplicitous behavior, which has now led us, and no doubt the entire world, toward the brink of destruction.” Tom looked around at the faces in the group like the lawyer he was, studying his jury. But there wouldn’t be any question regarding the outcome of this trial, other than what punishment would be fitting. What could you actually do to these two, who organized the murder of more than five billion people, which would be just? Tom asked himself as he looked at the faces, some confused, some angry, and all wanting answers.

  Tom detailed his knowledge of Richard Holmes, his background, and his roles in many clandestine activities—most of which would not be provable in a court of law. But that was no longer of concern. When Tom finished, he asked the Tall Man to share what he knew about Richard Holmes. The Tall Man retold his story from the cellar a few minutes ago, with a few more details. He added that toward the end, he had realized there was a connection between the supersized potato and the illness sweeping Idaho, and he began to believe he and other security personnel were there to safeguard the production of this potato, to make sure it went through.

  “This… this plague was planned a long way back. Baer’s potato was the perfect vehicle to deliver it to a widespread, unaware population. Hitler and Pol Pot are just babes in the woods compared to these two. Those things out there,” the Tall Man stood and pointed out the window. “As horrific as they are, aren’t the real monsters. These two are!”

  The president stood next and echoed Tom’s assessment of Richard Holmes. Then everyone found his analysis of Milton Etheridge of such intrigue that a dropped pin would have been heard.

  “No doubt, you have all read about, or heard, rumors of a super-secret group that was hell-bent on world domination. The Chamber,” the president said. “But there was no proof of its existence, was there? Well, now there is. Right here in this chair is the appointed representative of the North American branch of the Chamber. They are real, and they do control everything, and they have now destroyed everything.”

  The president saw the looks of disgust and anger on the faces of most of those around him. The camouflaged soldiers appeared to be ambivalent. One moment they were glad to work for Holmes, and now that their future with him wasn’t so bright, they were eager to jump ship. But for how long could they be trusted? The president doubted he was the only one who wondered.

  “And before anyone asks me why I, as president, did nothing to prevent the activities of this tumorous growth known as the Chamber, know this. The heads of government of this country and others may not be aware of how deep the tentacles of this beast stretch. Indeed, the cabinet members and senior staffs may be untouched. But it’s their staffs, advisers, and of course, the captains of private enterprise who are so corrupt that we—yes, I include myself—pander to their every whim because their money gets us re-elected. That’s how they have infiltrated every aspect of American life, and through our military superiority, the lives of every other major country, too.”

  A cold silence went through the room. Some glanced at the soldiers on the other side of the room, but most stared at Etheridge and Holmes.

  The Tall Man looked at his watch: This was taking too long.

  “We can spend hours, if not days, on this but we need to get moving. I don’t want to spend another night here.” The Tall Man added more pressure.

  “Do we get to have a say in our defense?” Etheridge asked, much to Holmes’s chagrin.

  “Are you serious?” the pilot of the Global Express that had brought the president and his party to Prince George roared. He was still shaken from the scene at the airport, and now the details presented showed it was no accident. To say he was enraged would be too light a description.

  “What do we do?” Kath whispered in the Tall Man’s ear.

  “About these two?”

  She nodded as Elliot joined them.

  “I know what I’d like to do, but we just don’t have the time. We have to get out—we can’t spend another night here.”

  “You’re right about that.” One of the soldiers, whose name was Chess, joined them. “We had a dozen troops with full-auto M4s, and they were wiped out by those things. And we have less to defend ourselves now.”

  The soldier turned and looked back at the creators of the plague that gave the world the foamers. “You know, if these two are responsible, as you say, I’ll gladly shoot ‘em for you.”

  At that moment, Kath realized what the whole “trial” had been about. It wasn’t about guilt or innocence, or about presenting the evidence to those not fully aware of the impact these two had on the downfall of mankind. It was about easing one’s conscience before the execution.

  Can we do this? She asked herself. She knew the group from Twin Falls hadn’t survived without their share of killing, and not just foamers, she assumed. But these two looked so pitiful. And they were unarmed.

  “We can’t shoot unarmed people. We just—”

  “Kath, these two, and their kind, have destroyed the entire planet! And you want to show pity on them?” The Tall Man’s distaste was clear.

  The president joined the conversation. “For better or worse, we’re the law now. And we have to make tough decisions. There is no tougher decision for anyone who values life than to adjudicate on whether another shall live or die. However, if we grant these two mercy, then our very survival could be in jeopardy.”

  “And the longer we dither with this, the more danger we’ll be in if we have to stay the night,” the Tall Man said.

  “After all we witnessed at the airport, I can assure you, Charles, I’m for getting out of here as soon as we can.” The president agreed with the Tall Man but understood Kath’s apprehension. “While we discuss our evacuation, why don’t we lock them in the cellar until we come to a conclusion?”

  “Yes. We can do that!” Kath jumped at the proposal. “I can padlock the outer door, and there’s a lock on the inside one.”

  “Fine. I don’t have the time for this. Let’s just move along, shall we?” The Tall Man couldn’t allow his anger toward Holmes to interfere with their survival plans.

  Kath, gave him—her Chuck—an affectionate squeeze on the arm. It was a small expression of gratitude, certainly, but his gesture of compromise meant a lot to her. He did it for her, she knew, but remained as tough as old boots in the process.

  Men.

  4

  With two of the main culprits in the destruction of mankind safely secured below, the discussion returned in earnest to their evacuation. Aside from Etheridge’s alcohol-fueled rants about needing him and his connections if they wanted to survive, there was little that either man could do. Holmes was well aware that when such high emotion was felt, and none of it positive, it was best to keep quiet. A schemer, he hadn’t given in, but there weren’t a lot of choices for him should he manage to escape. The Tall Man was alert to this predicament, and would be on guard against any attempts by Holmes to talk himself into remaining with the group.

  The Tall Man was eager to hear what the president’s travel destination had been, just as the president was interested in their plans. As the Tall Man, Mulhaven, Tom Transky, the pilots of both planes, Chess, and Kath took seats around the kitchen table to consider all options, the Tall Man called Elliot over.

  “Take Cindy and go check on the ammo and weapons we have left in the motor home.”

  Elliot just stared at the Tall Man. After all he’d been through, all he’d seen? Hell, he was there on the day of the undead outbreak and had been in on every decision since then. The Tall Man had gone out of his way to include him and Allan. He wasn’t about to be relegated.

  “Sure, Chuck.” Elliot pulled up another chair at the table. “As soon as we’re finished.�
��

  “Elliot!”

  “Yes, Chuck?” While Elliot was just twenty or so years younger, his experience was light years away from the Tall Man’s, but he wasn’t about to give any ground.

  “Chuck,” Kath whispered.

  He looked back at Kath and saw the look of consternation in her eyes. This was not the time to order others about.

  “You’re right, Elliot. Sorry, I’m just at a loss at the moment. With the foamers, the plane almost exploding, you running off, and then on top of it that bastard who had me protect all of this, to make sure it went ahead unimpeded, arrives on our doorstep!” It was the closest to an emotional cry for help as anyone was likely to get from the Tall Man. A good deal rested on his shoulders, and the strain was beginning to show.

  “It’s okay, Chuck. We’ll do it after this.” Elliot relaxed his stance, and the brief instant of tension, like the population, vanished.

  “You mentioned in the truck that you saw our plane come in and came to investigate, but you didn’t say why.” The president was a shrewd man. Not matter what people said about politics and those like the president and Tom, both had been in the game for many years, and it took more than money to get there.

  “I’m not sure what you mean, Mr. President.”

  The president abruptly stood, his brow deeply furrowed, his lips pursed firmly inward. “Okay, everybody, please … can I have your attention?” He said it loudly enough to be heard in all rooms of the house.

  “All of you know what’s happened, but not the full extent. You’ve got some damn good guesses, I’m sure, so allow me to give you the details.” He took a breath as the others from the living room gathered to hear. “The United States, our country, for all intents and purposes no longer exists. It has collapsed, as many other governments have or will. I may be accused of being the captain who abandoned his sinking ship before the passengers were rescued, but after the recent display of treachery within the White House, there were very few I could trust. My duty, therefore, as my good friend Tom Transky pointed out, was to my wife and my children. But—and this is what I want to you to hear—there is no more country, nor does the government function anymore. Therefore, I am no longer president. I, Elias Robert Charles, am no longer the president. I’d be more than pleased if you just call me Bob. And I mean it.” He looked around and made sure that everyone understood before he took his seat again.