3 Thank God it's Monday

by Robert Michael

  Jake snapped back to look at her.

  “Tell me you are kidding.”

  She smiled.

  “No. Totally serious,” she said, holding one hand up, ducking her head and putting the other hand on her knee.

  “When?”

  “Well. If I had to guess, the beach.”

  “But I thought we were being careful.”

  “I was. You weren’t.”

  “Oh.” He remembered now.

  “Just tell me you are fine with it.” Hallie looked up at him, her eyes pleading.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Great. Let’s talk about this later, huh? This would be an awkward last conversation.”

  “Yeah. Let’s go. Stay quiet and stay behind me.”

  Jake had kept the handcuffs. He did not want to shoot his comrades. There were bad guys out there that needed to be put down, no sense in thinning out the ranks of his allies. Of course, they might not see it that way.

  Hallie went ahead him and grabbed the handle to the door.

  A baby. He wished she hadn’t mentioned it. Now he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it. What would Macy think? Where would they live? The house in Bronxville would have plenty of room, but that wasn’t going to work. It wouldn’t be safe enough.

  For the first time in his life, Jake considered moving out of the country of his birth. It would probably be the only way they could completely disappear and still have some semblance of a normal life. Normal. What a joke. The world was crumbling around their ears.

  He wondered if it was a boy.

  Jake looked up. Hallie was staring at him, one hand on her hip, the other holding the door open. Her eyes were wild.

  “Stop daydreaming. Come on,” she commanded. “We’re burning daylight.”

  “Life is good,” he quoted, reading her shirt.

  “Shut up and let’s find our escort.”

  He smiled as he passed her, patting her stomach.

  “Ok, mama.”

  She hit him on the arm.

  They walked out into the hallway acting like they belonged there. Well, at least Jake did. Hallie still wore a t-shirt, sandals and a scarf.

  “Which side?”

  “He said the escort would pick us up on the east side,” Hallie explained.

  In the Roosevelt room, they had been joined by the NSA and he had given them the key to Jake’s cuffs, a map of the tunnels (totally unnecessary, but they were not looking a gift horse in the mouth), and two bottles of water. He took Jake’s press pass and let them keep the SIG. He did not say much. It was like the room was bugged.

  They left by a back door and went down the stairs past miles of cabling and five foot tall servers in what had once been a swimming pool. The press briefing room had been built above it. In an alcove near the back, behind an empty server case, a small crawl hole led to a long tunnel. Hallie had known the way.

  Now, they reached the guard post near the south exit and Hallie looked at Jake. The room was empty. Jake shrugged and fought the urge to run to the door before someone saw them. Instead, they walked calmly, eyes scanning the exits. Jake dropped the SIG into his front pocket and pushed open the door.

  They dashed outside. The sun was merciless, beating down on the concrete. Jake shaded his eyes.

  “No time to sight-see. Come on,” Hallie urged. She yanked on his hand and he stumbled along the sidewalk going east toward the corner.

  The bustle from the market was palpable. Then, he saw their escort. A diamond white Mercedes S600 pulled up, its twin V-12 humming. Jake almost rolled his eyes as Gary’s window buzzed down with a mechanical whine. He was not smiling.

  “Get in. Make it quick. Natalya is apt to speed and get us arrested.” He looked up at the front and blew a kiss.

  He glanced at Hallie. She was staring at him.

  “Are you serious? He is our escort?”

  Jake sighed and shrugged.

  “We don’t have a choice, Hallie. We have to trust him.”

  Gary looked out at them.

  “Look, I understand your reluctance but you really need to get in. We can discuss how terrible I am once we are on our way.”

  “He’s right,” Jake insisted. Hallie was being unreasonable, but he was not about to tell her that.

  “You better be right or I will blame you.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, opening the door for her to slide into the front seat.

  Jake went around and got in the opposite side. He recognized the back of the driver’s head.

  “Hello, Natalya,” he said as a greeting. He was not completely positive she understood English. She glanced at him in the back seat. Her smile lit up her face for one second and then it disappeared.

  She slammed the Mercedes back into motion, the big engine lurching them forward into traffic effortlessly. Jake noted that Hallie was gripping the door. Unless she was doing the driving, speeding and taking risks stressed her out.

  Jake loved remembering little things about his wife. It made him feel almost complete again.

  “Ok. Two reasons why you need to trust me,” Gary started in, his face earnest, two fingers held up to demonstrate his simple points. “One. We have common goals. We both want to save Giselle. Two. Your father, the President, reached out to me directly. I don’t know how he got my number, but he called me...”

  “Wait. Save Giselle? Where’s Giselle and what does she have to do with all this?”

  Hallie reached around the seat to face them.

  “And why would my husband want to save this little slut?”

  “Hallie. It’s fine. She’s sort of my sister.”

  Hallie looked at him like he had grown an extra head.

  “WHAT!? How exactly is she sort of your sister?” Hallie asked.

  “Yes. Please tell us that,” Gary said, his mouth agape and his eyebrows raised dramatically above the thick lenses of his glasses.

  Jake scratched his head.

  “Well. I don’t know if I even believe it, really. Eilif told me that he is Giselle’s father, but my mother, Barbara, is Giselle’s Mom.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Hallie said, turning around in a huff, her hair flying in her face.

  “That would explain a lot, actually,” Gary said. He placed his finger on his chin in a contemplative manner. Jake was desperate for Gary to rescue him from this awkward situation. Anything that would allow him to forget the queasiness in his stomach when he thought about Giselle.

  They drove through Mt. Vernon Square and were soon cruising along on Highway 50 going east. Jake looked at Gary questioningly.

  Gary jumped as though startled out of a reverie.

  “Oh. Right. We are going to Baltimore. It will be easier to get out undetected from there. They will be watching the airports here. We can get to Thurgood Marshall Airport in forty minutes.”

  “Where do you propose we go from there?”

  Gary bit his lip.

  “Have you ever been to Mississippi?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have not,” Jake said. He could feel Hallie staring at him over the seat. She was mad.

  “I hate Mississippi,” Hallie said. “I hate alligators, too.” She was pouting. He did not blame her.

  “What is in Mississippi, Gary?” Jake was almost afraid to ask.

  “Granville Arms.”

  “The gun manufacturer? Why are they that important?”

  “A key player in this game will be there. If we eliminate him, maybe we can slow this down. He is going there to meet the owner of Granville Arms. We can kill three proverbial birds with one trip. We can scratch one Viveri member, we can close down their small arms operation, and we can rescue Giselle.”

  “Well, two out of three ain’t bad,” Hallie remarked. She never turned around.

  The hum of the tires and the thrum of the engine were the only sounds to break the silence of the next forty minutes. Gary never did explain his second reason to trust him. It did not matter, Jake was
pretty sure he never would. And he was positive Hallie wouldn’t.

  ∞

  “I gave her my gun, Mr. President. If she uses it, it can be traced to me. I cannot...”

  “Calvin, don’t get worked up. We will get you another gun and Hallie will not sully your good name.” Gabriel had to admit he was having more fun than he had since he was on campaign for state senator in the late nineties.

  With his life on the line and depression pushing in from all sides, he decided to gamble some with his own life. He had done nothing illegal, but allowing Hallie and Jake to skip the obligatory briefing, arraignment, and public scrutiny, Gabriel had exercised his Presidential privileges. He arranged to have them escape back through the tunnels and picked up by Dr. Forsythe.

  He knew it was a risky venture, but he had to put a lid on as much of this as he could as quickly as possible. Regrettably, he was privy to some of the more sensitive information that the Viveri Consortium thought was completely secret.

  For example, he knew about Speaker Rodman and Granville Arms. He knew who Clarence really was. He was aware of the motives that drove Clarence to work closely with Komnenos and his brethren. He feigned ignorance of Andronikus. He preferred to refer to him in his mysterious nomenclature.

  He knew about Giselle, even though he pretended he did not.

  He wanted to forget that little detail and he hoped that Jake would never discover it. In Jake’s mind, Gabriel had destroyed his mother single-handedly. As in most failed marriages, it was hardly that simple. He was to blame, that was certain, but he shared that burden with Barb.

  No. Gabriel was not evil, but he commingled with it. He had flirted with it. He had been drawn to the bright fires of a neo-revolution of the truly powerful and the ultra-intelligent hidden regime that had survived for centuries playing God through lackeys. Their puppetry was masterful and almost complete. They were purveyors of destruction and heroics. Events and people that shaped the history of the Western world for the last two millennia were often manipulated or directly run by their brotherhood.

  Hitler was their toy. Castro was their brain child and grand experiment. Kennedy was their puppet until he had made the grievous error of courting the enemy. Vietnam was their playground. It was there that they experimented with the burgeoning economies of the new world and the ripening technologies of medicine and mechanics, as they tested the possibilities and atrocities of the wages of modern war.

  He knew their secrets. He had been one of them, although indirectly. And now he must die because he had defied them. He had for a moment believed that he was above their sick theories. He thought he had found a better way. He thought he could be an engineer of the enlightenment of which they had dreamed. However, he had seen that their vision was skewed. It was perverted and masterfully self-serving.

  Mankind was not predominantly unwashed masses. The Viveri Consortium certainly believed they were. A purge was prepared. The world was on its precipice and he could feel it.

  Therefore, he had made some tentative moves toward bucking their authority. At first it had been support of humanitarian bills that allowed for the blurring of the lines between the middle class and the poor. Through tax incentives and government programs, Gabriel had championed the little guys. He had helped entrepreneurs get funding and hire staff without penalties for health care. He had assisted religious and social organizations that dedicated themselves to reaching out to the poor, homeless, widowed, and orphaned, giving them unprecedented access to government funds. These organizations had proven him right by being twice as effective with a third of the budget the federal government had previously spent on these same causes.

  These measures had attracted the attention of the popular vote. Gabriel was even aware that some of the Viveri puppets had been emboldened by his audacious moves. They too began to disregard the system they served. It won him appreciation from embattled Senators, nervous diplomats, angry lobbyists, and voters. It had helped him win the nomination and a landslide victory over the incumbent, President Belinda Lowry.

  Of course, his new policies and bold moves were not unanimously popular. Cathy did not support them. She loved him and always gave him a smile in the morning and snuggled into the same bed with him at night. But he knew she was unhappy despite the fact that his unorthodox policies were what had ultimately won him the position that put them at the pinnacle of power. She was impressed and grateful, but ultimately frustrated in his rebellious behavior.

  Her family was connected. She had grown up knowing that someday her family would usurp global power or at least hold someone in sway enough to shape the world to their liking. She had thought she could influence him. She had to a point. His defiance and ego disappointed her.

  Thinking about Catherine made him consider the man in front of him closer. He had his doubts about Calvin. Sometimes he could see that Calvin was dedicated to protecting the country. However, Gabriel was not positive that Calvin was completely honest with him. He was rather duplicitous. It served him fine as director of NATC, but it was also why he could not play well with others. This lack of trust created an uneasy alliance.

  He looked back up and saw Calvin standing with his hands on his hips.

  “Mr. President? Are you alright?” Calvin asked with absolutely no compassion.

  He smiled as warmly as he could.

  “Yes. I was just thinking about your proposal. Make it happen,” Gabriel replied.

  He knew that to rid himself of Calvin for the moment, he should give him what he wanted. Calvin wanted to play war. Cops and robbers. Spy vs. spy. He wanted to round up some bad guys and blow some stuff up. Every boy’s dream. After that, perhaps they could go to Nationals Park and hit some 9th inning home runs or to FedEx Field and throw a Hail Mary in the 4th quarter down four points.

  He did not begrudge Calvin his opportunities to play hero. In fact, it was that same influence that had led Gabriel to this point. Sometimes dreams die in flames. And blood.

  “Thank you, sir. I will gather the assets we need to execute your orders. We can mobilize in twenty four hours. Do I have your authorization to pull out all the stops?”

  “I thought that was what I just did.”

  “Of course. I will be in touch.”

  “Thank you, Calvin. Please close the door when you leave and make sure Harold doubles my agents. This could be a long day.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Gabriel turned and looked out onto the south lawn again. The sun was bright and he could see troops escorting citizens from the premises as they went into shut down mode. A National Guard APC and two old model Bradley-style fighting vehicles pulled onto E Street.

  “Sir, VP Walker to see you,” Sally announced formally.

  “Let her in.”

  The east door opened and he heard Vivian walk in.

  “Are you going to tell me what is going on?”

  “You are soon going to be the second female President of the United States,” he quipped without turning.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Gabriel. I mean your son. The Agency are interviewing the man that they apprehended in the press room. You should hear what he is saying, Mr. President.”

  “I suppose I should talk to Eilif after all these years.” He turned and looked at her. She was everything that he was not. That was why he had put her on the ticket. She was stunning, classy, smart, brave, and loyal. “Barb and Eilif had an affair and he fathered a child. She thought that she had hid the pregnancy from me. I chose to let her believe that lie until the day she died. At the time I was just as promiscuous. Who wasn’t?” Gabriel looked down at his desk and played with the stitching on the back of his leather chair. “Anyway, it did not single-handedly ruin our marriage, but it was a poison that would never go away. And I think Eilif still burns a candle for Barb. Does that sound accurate?”

  She stared at him, her eyes bulging.

  “Who are you? I thought I knew you, Gabriel. There has been some talk on the Hill this morning. Discussion a
bout skeletons in closets. Talk about global conspiracies and deep corruption. Where did all this come from?”

  Gabriel laughed.

  “You’ve been talking to Senator Rodman or my Press Secretary? Both seem to be running a rumor mill around here.” She stood with her lips pressed firmly together. She had not liked his answering a question with another question. He shrugged. “Corruption has been around for years, Vivian. We just choose to look the other way. We cannot believe that God exists, how can we believe that Satan does?”

  “You are speaking in riddles again, Gabriel. I need answers.”

  He felt the heat of anger well up in him. He had been resigned to throw his life at this monster. He had dared to fight it without allies, without truly understanding its scope, its reach, and its true power. Now, he was being questioned by someone that he had trusted to support him.

  “Remember to whom you speak, Viv,” he warned.

  “I don’t know you. Can you tell me who you are and what you stand for? Maybe then I can fight beside you instead of against you.”

  He felt his shoulders slump. He had to come clean. It was too much to do on his own. Besides, despite what he had said, the odds that Vivian would be spared were low anyway. She was not Viveri material.

  “Your calendar free today?”

  She smiled.

  “I am all yours.”

  “Then have a seat and I will tell you a tale that will curl your toes.”

  “I always enjoy a good horror story. You have any marshmallows?”

  “I’ll have Sally rustle us up some S’mores and coffee. Shut the door.”

  Chapter 13

  Gunpowder & Lead

  Clarence was sick of George’s excuses. It was enough that Clarence had already had a bad day. He had received the call from the Consortium just after he had arrived in this swamp of a state. His mood had not gotten better after the news that the President still lived. News reports were wild and imaginative. Some were hitting close to home. Clarence had thought that they were untouchable. Now, he wondered.