Summer Sloan’s broadcast had stretched around the world and back again as the battle unfolded in front of a glued audience too big to contemplate. Even the most cynical amongst the millennial demographic felt just the slightest twinge of awe for what they’d witnessed in terms of the team’s willingness to fight and die in the place of others.
Simon Clermont, under Dennison’s direction of course, began a campaign to seize control of the narrative. He quickly had the team sequestered to an undisclosed location for debriefing and, quite frankly, briefing on the best way forward for everyone concerned.
Cynthia’s SOUL soldiers were either rounded up or they disappeared after disowning her following the revelations about her clone identity.
The ARK station was stormed by a heavily armed assault team, but in truth they met with no resistance, only stunned men and women who’d already laid down their weapons.
It had been Stanley Bush who’d met them at the door with an AK47 across the back of his shoulders, feeling like Rambo and proclaiming that he’d sorted out the intruders, leaving out the fact that the combat-clad soldiers had surrendered voluntarily and were currently sitting on the floor in the control booth with their heads in their hands, lost and defeated without a shot being fired.
Reagan Holgate and Dougie Renner, the two-man news team that Summer had brought with her, were also both being debriefed alongside Summer. One of the most famous faces in the country had insisted on her two men being with her and afforded the same consideration that she was.
It was a small gesture, and given the fact that she’d almost gotten them both killed, it really was quite literally the least she could do, but she did manage to somehow sound magnanimous when speaking to them.
Summer herself required careful handling; there was no way that she could disappear even if the authorities wanted her to.
The public clamour to see and hear from her again was reaching boiling point, and Clermont knew that he was going to have to strike a deal with the woman in order to keep control of the story.
In his position as prime minister, he’d had to deal with plenty of tyrants and despots, but dealing with Summer Sloan had been right up there in terms of difficulty.
----------
“I can’t believe this bullshit!” Link exclaimed as he watched the television with increasing irritation.
“Really?” Jamie-Lyn asked, surprised. “How exactly did you figure this would end?”
They were sitting in a government building recently usurped for the purpose of housing them and the others in need of debriefing. The lounge was spacious with plenty of modern comforts that reminded her of the old Queen’s Guard common room.
They had been locked away here from the rest of the world for almost three weeks now, and they were starting to go a little stir crazy wondering if they would ever be released in spite of CJ’s assurances.
“But listen to the guy,” he responded, pointing at the screen as CJ stood next to the prime minister, shaking hands. “He’s making it sound like he was behind us all along, that we were all part of some undercover operation set up by Simon freaking Clermont himself!”
“But it plays. At the end of the day, that’s all that really matters as far as the public are concerned.”
“What about the truth?”
“In my experience, the truth only gets in the way.” She shrugged in reply. “You really think that we could explain everything?”
“Of course.”
“Enough so that everyone got it? So that everyone out there could understand?”
“But at least it would be the truth.”
“I used to think that was important. Now? Well now I’m not so sure; besides, who’s got the energy to try and fight it?”
“So that’s it? We just go along to get along?”
“Seems like it. The official story now is that we were working for the government all along… this whole thing was a sting to draw out the man pulling Cynthia Arrow’s strings.”
“I can’t believe that Summer Sloan is going along with this as well.”
“Why not? I mean, seriously, what choice did she have? She can either be exposed as a willing accomplice or an undercover hero. What would you choose?”
“It still stinks. After everything he went through, including damn near killing himself, I can’t believe that CJ is happy to stand up there for the cameras and shake the hand of the man who hunted us down and no doubt put a kill order out on us.”
“Hey, everyone is getting what they wanted. It’s the way the machine works. Hell, it’s why I left this all in the first place. After Havencrest, I saw exactly the same thing as the machine cranked into life and rewrote history to make it more palatable for the people out there.”
“I heard that they’re restarting the Queen’s Guard programme.”
“That’s what CJ’s getting out of this. Gustafson is now the public enemy number one,” she said, pointing at the screen.
The only two confirmed images of Olaf Gustafson were being shown. One was him as a young, fresh-faced man in his teens, the other a bearded scientist somewhere in his early thirties.
“Anything concrete about him yet?”
“Not as far as I’ve heard, but then again, I’m not exactly in the inner circle now.”
“Why is that?”
“I could ask you the same thing. I’m sure that CJ offered you a spot on his new team, right? I thought that was all you’d ever wanted.”
“So did I.” He shrugged. “But now…”
“Now you’ve seen how it works up close and the bad taste that it can leave behind.”
“Something like that.”
“Well with Gustafson out there, CJ’s got his nemesis to fight. He’ll get resources, he’ll build a new team, and to be honest, he seems pretty chuffed by it all,” she added.
“And Crimson?”
“My guess is that he’ll take his pardon and slip away again.”
“Have you seen much of him?” Link asked.
“Not since we were brought here. You?”
“Only briefly, but the guy’s not exactly a chatterbox, and I think he was right: whatever CJ gave him is all used up now.”
“So there you have it. At this point there’s not much left but to rub the lamp and get your wish. They want to keep us sweet after everything we went through, and CJ will make sure that we don’t just disappear like people in our situations can do when we have dirt on a government.”
“And the rest of the questions? Is anyone going to ask them?” Link said as he leaned in close to her on the sofa as though afraid of being overheard.
“Such as?”
“Such as what the bloody hell was that crappy old knife? The Angel Blade,” he whispered. “First that thing cut CJ and then did the same to the beast. How could a knife do that?”
“From what I understand, it’s locked away and being studied by CJ. My guess is that Gustafson made it.”
“And the dampeners? I mean, what sapped his abilities to the point that he almost killed himself trying to summon up something to save us at the very end?”
“I heard that he found what was causing it… little bullet-shaped silver things someone told me. Apparently, there was a bunch of stuff confiscated from the scene but it’s all under lock and key. I don’t suppose that CJ wants anyone else to get a look at anything that could hurt him.”
“Can’t say as I blame him for that. The way that the government switched sides fast enough to make you spin, I wouldn’t trust any of them.”
“So what is it?” Jamie-Lyn asked as a silence settled over them and Link’s gaze drifted off again.
“What’s what?”
“This,” she said, pointing at his face and making a circle. “You’ve had something on your mind for a couple of weeks now.”
“I’ve had a hell of a lot on my mind. Haven’t you?” he exclaimed.
“More than all this aftermath crap; there’s something else.”
They
had spent the past few weeks largely together as the only two people in their particular positions.
While they had direct inside knowledge of all the events, they were not going forward with the government’s or CJ’s plans.
They had been sequestered away from the other guests of the government so as not to contaminate them.
“I heard that Summer Sloan’s field crew have apparently received bravery awards and both of them are about to take early retirement on medical grounds having suffered psychological damage, their pension pots fully stocked, which would make any lawsuits completely redundant,” Link said thoughtfully.
“Makes sense, I guess.” Jamie-Lyn shrugged. “I’ve heard that Summer worked her own deal to stay in the limelight without losing her credibility. CJ told me, during one of the increasingly rare visits, that Summer killed a man and Cynthia Arrow’s daughter had helped cover it up. An immunity that Summer had worked into her deal.”
“Speaking of immunity, Crimson took a full day and a half to go through everything that he wanted included in his.”
“Now that doesn’t surprise me.” She laughed.
“The deposition went through several staff members as they couldn’t stand to listen to all of the awful things that Crimson had done in his life; apparently, one young guy even threw up.”
“Sounds about right!”
“According to the new system that they’re installing here, there are several prisoners who have been taken to an undisclosed location, the sort of facility that won’t show up on any official documents and whose very existence would be vehemently denied. Those guys are going to stay there until they die, deemed religious extremists and immune to rehabilitation, according to the files I’ve read.”
“Are you supposed to be reading that stuff?” she asked.
“Nope, but I’m sick and tired of being out of the loop.”
“So what’s bugging you?”
“Lots of things are bugging me,” he replied evasively.
Jamie-Lyn sat and waited for him to speak again. A lifetime of journalism had taught her when someone had something on their mind, something they wanted to get out.
“You ever get something stuck in your teeth?” he finally said. “Not something big, just a slither of something, a bit of popcorn shell, something just out of reach no matter how much you roll your tongue around in there; no matter how much you floss, you just can’t seem to get it, you know?”
“Something’s on your mind, but you don’t know what.”
“Kind of. It’s like it’s there one second, but as soon as I reach for it…, it’s gone again.”
“It must be important to keep bothering you.”
“That’s just it. If I can’t place what it is, how can I know if it’s important or not? I’ve tried thinking hard, and I’ve tried forgetting about it, but nothing works. My whole career was built around recon, you know? I was the guy who got the info, who laid everything out. I always saw the big picture by piecing the little ones together, and now all I can think is that I’ve missed something, something that’s maybe tiny but crucial.”
“Well the sky hasn’t fallen in yet,” she replied kindly. “We’re safe, Cynthia’s gone, we’re not hunted criminals anymore. We’re the good guys again. Whatever it is, it can’t be that important, at least not right now.”
At that point, Crimson entered the room carrying a large casserole dish.
The man once regarded as the most dangerous on the planet now looked a far cry from his former self. Gone was the tightly muscled, lean athlete; now, he looked an old man. His hair was completely white and he walked with a slight limp despite receiving the best medical care. His eyes were sunken and the skin around his face looked ashen and loose.
“Yeah I know, I’m still real pretty,” he said as he caught them staring when he set the dish down on the dining table.
“Are you okay?” Jamie-Lyn asked with genuine concern.
“I’ll live, not sure for how much longer.”
“That’s the spirit.” Link grinned.
“Screw you, kid,” Crimson replied with a sneer, but in truth, there was no real malice in his voice… not anymore.
“I thought you’d have already left,” Jamie-Lyn said as Crimson took crockery from one of the cabinets and laid the table.
“Shipping out later today,” he responded as he started to serve.
“Can I ask where you’re going?”
“You can ask,” he replied as he filled three bowls with steaming stew.
“Fair enough.” She smiled back.
“No offence, but I don’t want anyone knowing where I’m going. It’s time for me to get lost and go sit on a beach with whatever time I’ve got left. At least I won’t have to spend it looking over my shoulder. Come, sit… consider this my last meal.”
“I heard you got a good deal,” Link said as he stood up, crossed the room and pulled up a chair at the table.
“I think it’s fair enough for what we did, or more importantly what we’re not going to say,” he answered between bites. “No doubt you two are filling your boots?”
“Haven’t thought about it,” Jamie-Lyn answered as she pulled three bottles of water from the fridge and joined them.
“Yeah, right.” Crimson laughed, but stopped when he saw that she was serious. “Hey, take it from me. Get what you want now, and then get gone before someone upstairs figures it’s a lot easier to not worry about people when they’re dead.”
“Always the cynic. Besides, CJ’s got our back,” she replied.
“For now maybe.”
“Didn’t he offer to help, you know, with the whole…,” Link said as he surveyed Crimson’s condition up close.
“He offered, but I’m not having that guy probing me again with his green fingers. No thank you, not again. I’ll take what I’ve got left and that’ll do me fine,” he replied with a mouthful of food. “Take it from me, get what’s yours, then get gone.”
“You’re just being paranoid,” Jamie-Lyn said, shaking her head.
“Am I? You hear what happened to your pal Summer Sloan?”
“She got a deal. So?”
“Nope, she got dead.”
“Dead?” Jamie-Lyn and Link exclaimed in unison.
“Dead.” Crimson nodded as he ate another spoonful. “Drowned while swimming last night. An accident, if you believe that.”
“I take it you don’t?” Jamie-Lyn pressed.
“My guess is that they’ll find something in her system – too much alcohol, maybe a few non-prescription pills, something to make it seem like an accident.”
“Wow! Summer gone. I… I can’t believe it.” Jamie-Lyn breathed.
“Yep, her and her crew.”
“Her crew!” Link cried out. “You mean those guys that were with her at the hangar?”
“Car accident,” Crimson replied absently.
“You can’t be serious?” Jamie-Lyn sighed.
“As a heart attack.” Crimson shrugged. “Which I’d imagine they’ll discover the driver had.”
“What the hell is going on?” Jamie-Lyn asked nervously.
“Sounds like someone’s cleaning house.” Link breathed heavily.
“Well there’s another one to throw into the mix,” Crimson said casually. “The personal aide to the prime minister, a guy called Dennison, someone who’s been at Clermont’s side for all of the backstage politicking. Suicide, in case you’re wondering,” Crimson added before ladling another helping of casserole into his bowl.
“Jesus, what is that? It stinks.” Link grimaced as he stared down into his own bowl.
“This is something like what we had in that fishing village… my own version at least. You know, that lady could cook; she was great.”
“Yeah, right up until she went batshit crazy with the rest of the town and tried to kill us,” Jamie-Lyn said, shaking her head and trying to process what Crimson had just told them.
“Hey, nobody’s perfect.” Crimson laugh
ed back.
Jamie-Lyn looked over to Link and her laughter dried up as Link’s face had gone deathly white.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing… something…, maybe. I don’t know,” Link answered distantly before standing up and backing away from the table.
“Something I said?” Crimson asked distractedly as he chewed.
“Yes… I don’t know what, but I think that it just might have been,” Jamie-Lyn replied thoughtfully as she looked at the younger man as he stood there deep in thought.
Then she stood up too and looked down at the table where Crimson was still spooning stew into his mouth. He looked up at her as she stared down.
“Oh come on!” he exclaimed.
“Are you coming or not?”
“Whatever it is, my advice? Let it go,” he responded. “Let it all go and move on. That’s what I’m going to do.”
“Okay then.”
“Oh don’t be like that.”
“Honestly, Crimson, I’m not being like anything. No one could accuse you of not doing enough; hell, we’d all be dead without you. If you’re done, then you’re done, and that’s okay,” she said as Link started to leave the room lost in thought.
“You’re not going to guilt me!” he snapped.
“No one’s trying to,” Jamie-Lyn replied as she walked away. “Have a good life and don’t worry about us.”
“It won’t work,” he called after them. “I promise you, it’s not going to work! You guys can go and stick your heads in another lion’s mouth if you want to, but not me, not this guy, oh no, not me… bollocks!” he finished, alone as he slammed down his spoon.
----------
CJ felt exhausted from the constant stream of interviews and publicity shots.
The prime minister was going all in to maximise the current interest and he couldn’t blame the man; after all, all of this was about to win him an election.
The opposition party were up in arms and trying to make hay of the flip-flopping government position, but in truth, the people were buying the whole covert operation version of events, and with CJ standing beside Simon Clermont shaking hands, it was a hard image to ignore, not to mention a powerful one.
Capes Page 63