by Jason Letts
The agents on the scene had obviously considered the possibility that they wouldn’t receive a warm welcome. One of them had a handheld battering ram that swiftly collided with the door near the locking mechanism, busting the door in after five loud thuds.
Once inside, they stormed the dark living space, going from room to room with Glocks raised as they searched for occupants. Jane was holding her breath with anticipation that they would discover Oliver Ip hiding in a closet or bathroom, but it wasn’t to be.
“He’s not here,” Nathan said even before word came over the radio from the agents that the place was vacant. Empty desk space and some items strewn about the bedroom suggested that he may have left in a hurry.
Jane felt like she had a little less wind in her sails. After putting them in position to be confident about who did it, being able to nab him right then and there would’ve been icing on the cake. Even if it didn’t immediately lead to them scoring a suspect in custody, Jane found it invigorating to have been part of such an important discovery.
“Our contact at the Post is saying that Ip hadn’t shown up for work today,” Nora said, glancing at her husband, who set his jaw and sighed.
“Probably started running for it as soon as we took Heath Bastion in,” Travis added.
“What’s going to happen now? He can’t really be missing. Ip has to be held responsible for all this,” Jane said, and she was surprised when Nora reached out to take her hand. Maybe it wasn’t surprising that she’d been around this block a few times.
“This happens. If someone knows we’re closing in on them, they resist. That’s where the work begins. We’ll be going through everything he has now, every possible place he could be hiding. We’ll look everywhere. He’s going to get caught and he’s going to pay for what he’s done, but it’ll take time. On the bright side though, Heath Bastion will be going home to his family tonight because of you.”
Jane took comfort in the difference she’d made, even if they had more left to do. The investigation was headed in the right direction. The wrong person was on a path to being cleared. And most important, the president was safe and alive, with the entire weight of the government’s investigative machinery coming down on the one responsible for putting it at risk.
With the search for Ip being handled by people at the FBI who obviously knew way more than she did and had access to much better tools, Jane had to be content with letting it go so she could focus on her own job. After saying goodbye to Nora and Travis, who were anxious to leave work themselves to pick up their daughter while other agents continued the search, Jane and Nathan rode back to Secret Service Headquarters.
“They’ll get him,” Nathan said. Jane rested her head against her palm and stared out the window, her elbow propped against the car door as other questions sprung to mind.
“But what is he going to do in the meantime?” she wondered.
As the week went by, Jane’s satisfaction and enthusiasm for what she’d done only grew. Chief Harold Vale had commended her personally. Others at both the Secret Service and the FBI had reached out to her to say they were impressed. It felt like her stock was rising higher than it had ever been. Even though the report from the investigation into her responsibility for the bombing still hadn’t been issued, Jane couldn’t imagine that it would come down hard on her now.
After what she’d done, if Agent Trice and the Office of the Inspector General wanted to criticize peripheral aspects of her work, they were barking up the wrong tree.
That made it so much easier to show up at Camp David on Saturday ready to ride like the wind and have a blast doing it. She’d even purchased a new black bodysuit to ride in that would make the gun she had to have strapped to her hip a little less conspicuous. And if Alex liked it, there was no harm in that.
When the Beast showed up at the park and the president got out, he gave her a curt nod and smile as he went to get his bike out of the shed. It was much more of a professional greeting than she would’ve wanted, making her think that her impromptu visit to the Oval Office hadn’t had much of an impact. If he noticed her attire, he must not have thought it worth commenting on.
But that was fine. Jane was the kind of girl who much preferred to show off her optimism and sense of adventure rather than her curves anyway. It was another beautiful sunny morning with a light breeze.
“Get ready, because you are in for the ride of your life,” Jane said, gripping the handlebars.
“Alright then,” Alex said with a weak laugh that struck Jane as a little patronizing. Part of keeping good headspace was not letting others’ lack of enthusiasm get her down. If Alex didn’t want to join in her fun, it was his loss. Had he even heard about how she personally managed to pinpoint the person who tried to kill him?
They got going, and despite Jane’s limited ability to train she felt good and got into a strong rhythm. At a couple of points, she had to remind herself that riding was just her pretense to protect the president and slow down so as not to pull away from him. His tips continued to pay off on the hills, which didn’t seem nearly as intimidating now that she could maintain a steady climb.
But as they went on, two things happened. The first was that her gusto and inspiration were only able to cover up for her lack of training for so long, leaving her struggling to keep up and breathing heavily. The other was that Alex’s subdued mood seemed to be something other than a lack of interest in her.
Riding with a vacant look on his face, he appeared distracted, preoccupied, and considering he was the president it should’ve come as no surprise to Jane that he had other things on his mind than what, if anything, might’ve been going on between them. At one point he appeared to be so unfocused on what he was doing that she felt she had to say something.
“If you’re not feeling it today, we can definitely stop. Don’t think you have to keep going on my account,” she said in an attempt to be sympathetic.
Alex glanced over at her as if snapping out of a daze.
“Oh, no, I’m good. Sorry. It’s been a tough week,” he said.
Jane nodded. Despite her good fortune, she realized that his was worse than ever. The Leslie Hodge article was spiraling out in unexpected directions, with other old girlfriends even from as far back as high school chiming in. Suddenly everyone he’d ever kissed was worthy of national attention in a way that struck Jane as lurid. At least it was purely gossip without any hint of scandal, but it was soaking up bandwidth and preventing him from getting anywhere with his agenda. Thankfully Bethany Morrin was being true to her word and avoiding the spotlight completely.
“It’ll blow over,” Jane said. “People can only talk about your love life for so long.”
“Can they?” Alex said incredulously, making her think that perhaps her statement had been naive. “Arundhati has done a complete one-eighty on this. Now she’s talking about shelving bills and scaling back plans because things are going to get tainted by this sideshow. Mostly I’m just embarrassed. This was stuff I did in private that I thought would stay that way.”
Pursing her lips, Jane wondered what she could say to a guy like him in a position she could only glimpse from the outside that would help.
“If you don’t like the news, do something to change it,” she said, shrugging. When their eyes connected, she could tell she’d gotten through to him. He appeared relieved.
“Time to get out front and lead,” he said with a devilish grin, pumping the pedals harder.
Even though they’d been talking about his work, he somehow took it as a sign that he needed to ride faster. Jane was thrilled that she’d discovered a way to improve his outlook and renew his sense of determination, but keeping up with him was more difficult than ever. Gasping for breath, she felt the effort taking a toll on her, and it got to the point where she was breathing so heavily she couldn’t have continued talking to him if she wanted to.
Beginning to wonder how she could possibly hope to last another forty-five minutes, she came around
a corner with him and tried to take it sharply to reduce the distance she would have to cover, but she nearly veered off the road and then overcompensated the other way.
That sent her wide to the left as she struggled to regain control of the bike. Suddenly Alex was right there, and she bumped into his side. While the contact had allowed her to right herself, she watched in horror as Alex tipped over and crashed against the pavement, leaving him sprawling on his side with the bike tangled up around him.
“Alex!” she cried, coming to an immediate stop.
Groaning and sucking his teeth, Alex was writhing on the ground in agony as she rushed over. The presidential limo behind them came to a stop, doors opening so that the medical personnel inside could come rushing out.
Jane felt like she could’ve died right then and there. Alex was gritting his teeth and squirming while all she could do was blubber apologies and try to get the bike off of him. When he rolled onto his back, she spotted blood beginning to seep out of a wound on his leg.
“Get out of the way!” one of the White House doctors called to her so that they could attend to the president. Other agents were coming down from their positions around the loop. The looks she was getting were withering until it got to the point where no one looked at her and she may well have vanished.
Standing there and literally shaking, Jane couldn’t believe what she’d done. Her carelessness had endangered and injured the president. What if he’d fallen and managed to crack his head open despite the helmet? She was barely able to breathe with how one momentary, stupid mistake would cost her everything she’d worked for.
How was she going to keep her job now when the only thing she would ever be remembered for was this? Jane Roe and the bicycle crash. The terror on two wheels. And that was just from the people who’d laugh but didn’t have any power over her. No one would trust her with an assignment close to the president again, not Vale, not Salidas.
The White House doctor was crouching over the president, who was trying to get up.
“I’m good. I’m good,” Alex protested, and for a second he spotted Jane standing there gawking at him as he put his arms over the doctor and Evans, so they could help him hobble toward the open door of the Beast.
Agent Trice and the Office of the Inspector General would not care in the slightest that Alex wanted to put on a brave face and tough out his injury. Poking around on Facebook to expose Ip wouldn’t carry any weight when she’d drawn blood from the president. Carelessness, negligence, blatant disregard for safety, there was no end to what their report might contain now. And the worst part was it would all be right. She hadn’t trained properly and wasn’t capable of maintaining a ride like this, but she’d done it anyway because she wanted to be close to Alex.
It was like the Secret Service counter-snipers, who were tested on whether they could hit targets a mile away each month. And if they couldn’t perform, they weren’t assigned to the unit. End of story. There were no protocols about the riding, allowing her to get in, but there sure would be after this. Her riding days were done, and going back to work on Monday would be a quick affair with the only item on her list being to clean out her desk.
Dedan was there as well, standing off to the side a bit as stoic and stout as a Secret Service agent should be. Even though he wore glasses, she could tell he was looking at her. She imagined he was sympathizing with her over an honest mistake that had her feeling like she would melt into the ground. More likely he was watching her to see if she would continue to be a threat. One fast move and he would shoot her where she stood.
But that seemed worth the risk when her heart was breaking and she had to see that Alex was OK, had to give him a real apology instead of the wheezy blubbering she’d done from the road. She had to say goodbye.
Her eyes were stinging and she felt lightheaded, exhausted from the ride and her whipsawing fate. Slowly and with her hands at her side, she stepped forward along with the progression bringing the president to his limo, a veritable fortress on wheels. While its nickname was the Beast, its actual codename was Stagecoach.
As they brought Alex in to lie on the interior floor, she could see the full thickness of the armor-plated door at eighteen inches. The windows alone were half a foot thick. Direct hits from a bazooka wouldn’t faze this vehicle in the slightest. The tires were solid and couldn’t be shot out. It contained enough oxygen to allow those inside to continue to live for days if it somehow ended up in outer space. And then there’s the supply of the president’s blood, medical gear, and state-of-the-art communications equipment. The Secret Service had a dozen of these, many of them used concurrently as decoys when the president departed the White House.
Over the radio, Jane could hear Watch Commander Winger get on from the Joint Operations Command Center asking how the president was. One of the other agents relayed the question to the doctor, and that was enough of a sign for Jane that she could turn her radio off and take it out of her ear.
“He’s going to be fine. A nasty scrape might have him limping for a couple days, but that’s it,” the White House physician said.
Jane found herself gravitating closer to the wide-open limo door, angling to get a better look at the wound and how Alex was dealing with it. The other agents were giving the doctor space, making it too easy for her to slip inside the limo’s passenger section, hesitantly at first until Alex gave her a strained smile. The next thing she knew she was kneeling next to him on the floor as things started to gush out of her mouth.
“Alex, I just have to say that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and I’m so incredibly sorry. I can’t believe how irresponsible I was, and I know what this means I’ll have to do. I’m going to take responsibility and resign my position. You deserve more capable assistance than I can provide.”
Looking at her in obvious pain, Alex hunched himself up on his elbows and took a deep breath.
“I wish you wouldn’t. I’ve had a hundred falls like this. I get why everyone is concerned, but let’s not blow this out of proportion. It’s not a big deal and I’ll shake this off in no time.”
Jane feigned a smile at his naiveté. Knowing how the Secret Service worked wasn’t his responsibility, nor was deciding whether she stayed or left.
“That’s nice of you, but either I quit or someone will tell me I’m finished. At least this wasn’t the product of pure chance throwing me off my path. I can say I did this to myself,” she said.
Alex looked at her deeply in a way that made her think he was listening but not really listening.
“Well, a lot of people wouldn’t. And anyway, I appreciated what you came in to say the other day. Sometimes it seems like I’m saying a lot of things and most still only hear what they want to hear, so it’s nice to actually feel like I got something through to someone.”
Jane turned her eyes down to her hands in her lap. He was only making it harder. Saying thank you and goodbye would’ve been easier. Part of her wished he’d gotten angry so she could feel mad instead of just bad.
“I’ve got to get some more wrapping from the compartment,” the doctor said, backing out of the cab. Jane sighed, wishing she was the one who’d fallen and gotten hurt.
“What I really wanted to say was that I understand what you meant about feeling lost in your job, unrecognized and undistinguished between the role you have to play and who you are. We’ve both been trapped by the things we do, and—”
She hadn’t even seen it coming until she felt his lips against hers. All of a sudden he was there kissing her, and all of the things in her head got blown away like dust in the wind. It was a good thing her mouth was busy, because she would’ve been speechless anyway. Unconsciously, she set her hand on his chest and felt his hand on the back of her head, guiding her closer. The warmth of his lips and the taste of him made her heart skip a beat.
When their lips parted, Jane could scarcely comprehend what was going on. It had barely registered with her that they were together in the presidential lim
o, let alone that she had just kissed the president. But that was their whole thing. He was Alex, an athletic and handsome idealist two years older than her who just happened to have a very important job.
He had his own world too, and as much as he seemed besmirched with what they had just shared, dreadful implications were flickering across his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and she could only imagine that images of Leslie Hodge and all of the others were parading through his head.
Her hand was still on his chest, and he didn’t seem to mind it.
“Don’t worry. If there’s one thing I can do, it’s keep a secret.”
13
Slanesville, West Virginia
The long dirt road off Slanesville Pike had so many substantial bumps in it that Oliver was sure it would finally blow out the suspension on his Fiesta. If he hadn’t come this way before, traveling this deep into the forested mountains at dusk would’ve made him think he’d end up stranded and unable to ever return to civilization.
Only the utility wire draped along the ground and rocks beside the path had given him the fortitude to keep going, a thin tube scarcely two inches thick connecting civilization to the farthest depths of the Appalachians.
If it had rained any more the road would’ve been impassable, leaving Oliver completely out of luck, but the only real obstacle he faced was a doe sprinting across the path in front of him. Headlights on, he took every turn along the road trying to remember if this was the same as how it looked before and how much farther he had left to go.
It was fully dark by the time he made it to the cabin in the woods, more of a handmade shack of some size that looked like a relic of centuries past. Oliver had to pull the car up and keep it running with the headlights on to be able to see enough to make it to the entrance. Along the way, the sounds of a gurgling stream and owls in the treetops left him feeling like he wasn’t nearly as alone as he would’ve liked.