by Bower Lewis
A smiley appeared on the phone’s screen and disappeared again as the press conference moved on to questions and Zane was only occasionally driving on the correct side of the road.
John’s attention drifted to the phone with an inebriated nod. “I don’t much like the guy, Pax, but I’ve gotta give credit where it’s due. The kid can drive.”
“Yes, he can. He can shoot too, as you discovered tonight, and he knows how to handle himself with his fists. These are all things that speak to your heart, Uncle John. If you two would just stop knocking each other out for two damn minutes, you might actually discover that you have a lot in common. And, I’d think you’d want to, if only because he’s important to me. Zane really came through when The Biz showed up out of the blue. I didn’t take that very well.”
He lowered his face toward his lap. “No, I don’t imagine you did. I’m real sorry about that, Pax. I should have prepared you better.”
“You didn’t prepare me at all.”
“I know I didn’t. I meant to, though, honest to God. I always just figured I’d have more time. You were such a little thing when I left, and you’re really not much bigger than that now. It’s too soon for you to be facing these sorts of responsibilities.”
She reached over and smacked him on the shoulder.
“I’m twenty-three years old, for crying out loud. Joan of Arc had found God, led an army, kicked England’s ass, and been dead for four years already by the time she was my age. I thought you and The Biz had this communication thing down. Didn’t He warn you that this was coming?”
He studied his bandaged hand in silence for a moment. “It’s a topic we’ve been going around about for a while. It appears that my extensions ran out before I realized. I really am sorry.”
Patience needed to scream, but there were so many things to scream at once, and he’d begun speaking again before she figured out where to start.
“I think it was about twenty minutes after my call came that I realized yours would too, someday. It’s not uncommon to find SCUD clusters in families, and there are things I’ve always been able to figure out about the world that you seemed to have been born just knowing. I think that’s what makes you so cranky most of the time. You’re too sensitive to have everyone’s number the way you do. So, I was hoping He’d hold off a little longer, see if you’d toughen up a bit more with age. I am sorry I wasn’t here for you, though. I honestly didn’t think He’d call you if I wasn’t around to see you through it. I had my grandfather, Joe, when my time came, and you were supposed to have me. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”
Patience wiped an arm across her eyes, irritated by the tears that had sprung up without warning and furious with her uncle.
“Great-grandpa Joe was like us? Do you have any idea what my mother’s been through all these years? First her grandfather went ’round the bend, then her uncle, and finally you? She’s always kept a worried eye on me, as well, no matter how hard I tried to hide the similarities between us. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through, worrying about the exact same thing? How could you have kept this from us?”
He turned his face back to the window. “The job doesn’t come with a manual, kid. Or worse, it comes with thousands of them, and every last one of them contradicts all the others. Hell, I’ve been writing a book for you for a decade, but I’ll be damned if I’ll ever let you see it. Your way is different from mine. Your way is harder. The world is more complicated than it used to be, and maybe the harder way is better now. But, I’m just not a harder kind of guy. I’m a finish the job kind of guy. I’ve forged my own path, but I’m starting to get that it’s not a path you can follow. You’ve got to carve out your own.”
She turned her blurry eyes away as the phone chimed. She took it from his hand and pressed down on the accelerator. “Damn it! They’re leaving.”
She punched in Zane’s number and watched him on the screen as he tore up Cambridge and onto Tremont. The phone rang until it went to voicemail and Patience hit her hands against the wheel.
“He can’t hear me over the engine.”
She put the pedal to the floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They slammed to a halt behind the Bugatti and Patience jumped from the truck. She sprinted up the State House steps and found Zane about halfway up, slumped against the bannister. She didn’t like the looks of him.
“They’re gone,” he said. “I missed them.”
“I know.” She pulled him up and turned to the street. “Let’s go get him back.”
He just stared back with a disconnected expression, as though she was speaking a language he didn’t understand. “They’re gone, Patience. Don’t you understand what’s happened? I think I may have just killed my father.”
She gave him a prod and turned toward the street. It was a struggle not to point out that his claim to the blame for Rutherford’s predicament was pretty thin as long as she, John, and The Biz were in the picture, but she kept her mouth shut. Zane tended to respond negatively to recriminations against her or The Biz, and they really didn’t have time for that particular conversation. The look on his face alone was almost more than she could bear.
“Alexander Rockwell hasn’t angled for your father’s attention all these years just to throw it away now. He’s much too valuable an asset. Rockwell is going to keep him polished up and camera-ready, so he can parade him around at every available opportunity. You know I’m right about this. He’s got years of begging to make up for.” He hesitated and she turned back to face him. “Will you please stop screwing around, Zane? Let’s go fuck up Rockwell’s world.”
His face set then and he nodded. He fell into step beside her, and she felt some of his fight return as they approached the bricks. Then her phone chimed.
Six black BMW twin-turbo SUVs careened up Park Street and Patience spun toward the truck. Zane reached for her arm and shook his head. The vehicles cornered and skidded onto Beacon, scattering tourists as they slammed to a stop around the Bugatti and the Hummer. The passenger door of the lead car opened and a lone agent stepped out. He approached them with an even stride and uttered a single word as he continued past.
“Zane.”
Zane glanced at her, and then he turned to follow the agent. Patience just watched them for a moment, too stunned to move, and then she looked back to the vehicles. The windows were all heavily tinted, but she could taste the firepower.
“I don’t know what to do.”
SUMTIMES THTS A SIGNL 2 DO NUTHNG
“It feels bad to do nothing.”
I KNOW
She slipped down to the Hummer and stood beside her uncle. He grinned back at her through the open window. “Now, these are some guys I could party with. I may not have given them their due back at the house.”
“Uncle John, I’m scared.”
He leaned closer and looked up into her eyes as some of the inebriation fell from his face.
“Untie me then, kid, and I’ll make your fears go away.”
She frowned and glanced back at the cars, idling in formation around them. Their presence seemed charged with an assurance of authority over the Hummer and its occupants. Patience turned back and kissed her uncle on the forehead. “That’s a very disturbing offer, Uncle John, but I’ll probably always love you a little bit for making it.”
“Anytime,” he said. Then his face turned serious. “Listen, Pax, about our earlier conversation, I do need you to understand how sorry I am that you were alone when God came for you. I’m sorrier about that than I know how to be.”
She turned her eyes up to Zane with the agent. “I wasn’t alone.”
“No, but you weren’t with the one who’d sworn to be there. I really thought it would buy you some more time if I stayed away. Now that that’s off the table, I won’t duck out on you again. You might wish that I would half the time, but I won’t.”
She didn’t respond for a few moments. Zane’s exchange was growing tense, heated on his side,
clipped and managerial on the agent’s. Zane pointed to the Hummer and then he shook his head as the agent turned to stare down at them. Patience looked back to her uncle.
“I don’t think you were supposed to be with me, Uncle John. For what it’s worth, I think The Biz was in control of that decision, and I think He was right. If you’d showed up here, all fired up and ready to show me the job as you know it, I’d have split so fast your beard would have burst into flames. I don’t think you ducked out on me. I think you were pulled off the job.”
His eyes lowered for a moment. “I can’t say for certain, kid, but I’m pretty sure that makes me feel worse.”
She just sighed. She was pissed as hell at him, and trying very hard not to give in to any compassion she might also be feeling.
“He’s sent you here now, though, and maybe I’ll actually figure out what that’s about before all is said and done. You’ve changed a lot since you left, and you really are driving me up the wall, but I seem to feel better when you’re around for some reason. Don’t get me wrong, I feel worse in lots of ways, as well, but there’s a part of me that breathes easier when you’re here. I’m sure it’s some weakness of character I need to work on.”
“Likely.”
“Or it could be a strength I don’t understand yet. So you can let yourself off the hook for not being here at the beginning, but only for that. I’m still really unhappy with you about many, many other things.”
She turned away as Zane’s conversation broke down and he started toward them. He and the agent paused about ten feet from the Hummer and he nodded.
“This is Ed,” he said as she approached. “He’s here to help.”
Patience turned her eyes to the bricks. So this was Ed O’Brien, the agent everyone always went to and no one ever wanted to disappoint. He was nothing at all like she’d imagined him. She’d pictured an older version of Mason, broad-shouldered and strong-jawed, but with a slightly weathered appearance to suggest experience and command respect. In the flesh, Ed O’Brien was pale-skinned and slender. His features were angular, and his inflexible posture did nothing to enhance a lackluster physique. His expression was all business and his hair was meticulously combed. He seemed about as contrary to the invincible super-agent as anything Patience could imagine. Until he turned his attention to her, that is. Once she found herself the object of his scrutiny, his dominance over her airspace forced her back a half step.
She glanced over to Zane for help, but Ed recaptured her attention with a look.
“I’m in a hurry, Miss Kelleher, so let’s skip to the ground rules. From this moment forward, whenever anything occurs that involves Rutherford Ellison, or any member of the Ellison family, I am your first call. In fact, I’m your only call. Zane knows this. It’s been drilled into his head since he was a small child, but he’s somehow managed to let procedure slip his mind these past few days. I believe you’ve been a factor in that lapse, so why don’t you help him out now by telling me everything you know.”
She searched Zane’s face for some clue as to what she should or shouldn’t say, but his expression was inscrutable. “Zane and I been together this whole time, Mr. O’Brien. What he’s told you is exactly what I know.”
The agent leaned closer and her shoulders drew together. He smelled of Clive Christian and authority. “I’m not playing games, Miss Kelleher. Rutherford Ellison has been taken, and I intend to get him back now. You can talk to me here, or we can talk in the car, but I’m not going to waste any more time being polite. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
She was determined to hold her ground, but Zane took her by the arm and pulled her back another step. “It’s okay, Patience. Ed doesn’t work with the police. His only job is to protect my family from anything that threatens it, up to and including the police, if need be. I’ve already told him about the ipecac, about the abductions, and shooting Rockwell, all of it. He’s been with my family since I was eight years old. You don’t have to protect me from him.”
She exhaled. “You’ve told him about the phone?” she whispered.
The shake of his head was little more than a flinch, but she caught it. Ed caught it as well and looked away for a moment. His expression was almost weary when he turned back to Zane.
“What’s this about a phone?”
Zane paused and lowered his eyes. “I think I may have left my cell behind when we went after Alex the other night. It was the night the troopers showed up, the night I shot him. I’m not certain it’s there, but I haven’t been able to find it since. I’ve picked up a new one, but it would place me at the house if he’s got it.”
Patience was impressed by his quickness, and a little surprised by his cunning.
Lines deepened in the agent’s face. “No one is placing you anywhere, Zane. What else have you left out?”
“Nothing that I can think of. The phone just slipped my mind in light of more dramatic events.”
Ed paused and looked past him into the distance. “You do understand that your father’s life is in jeopardy, don’t you, Zane?”
He returned his attention to his charge and Zane nodded. “I do, Ed. I’m the one who put it there.”
The agent was silent for a moment. Then his brow lowered behind his sunglasses and his expression tempered from steel-lined to merely stoic. “Alexander Rockwell is the one who put it there. You know better than to take responsibility for the actions of a psychopath. Your mistake was not coming to me the second you knew you had trouble on your hands. That’s plenty to answer for without lifting additional blame from Alexander Rockwell.”
He turned back to Patience and she shook her head.
“Other than the missing phone, I really can’t think of anything other than what Zane’s just mentioned. Do you really want to hear it all again?”
He stared at her for a moment, and then he turned toward the vehicles. Patience remained where she was, unclear whether she’d been dismissed or if she was still on the hook, until Zane took her by the arm again.
“If anything else that’s ‘slipped your mind’ comes back to you or your girlfriend, Zane, you tell me about it immediately. Now, I’d like to meet the man who crashed through the gates of the estate this afternoon and gassed eight of my men.”
Patience sighed and pointed to the Hummer. Ed paused at the sight of the SCUD’s predicament, but John just smiled and waved a couple of blood-stained fingers from the roll bar. “How’s it going, G-man?”
“I’m not a federal officer, Sir. Zane, why is this man tied up? I thought you said he was with you.”
“He is. We’ve had to rein him in a little as a safety precaution, but John’s after Alex, just like we are.”
“Did Alexander Rockwell shoot him?”
“No,” Zane said. “That was me.”
Ed turned back to him and Patience stepped forward.
“He’s my uncle,” she volunteered.
John just winked back at her. He appeared to be feeling a little better, now that they were back in his comfort zone, with the potential for physical confrontation on the horizon and no time to explore their feelings. He glanced appreciatively at the bulge under the agent’s coat.
“You know how it is with families sometimes, G-man.”
Ed didn’t respond to that. He was starting to look sorry that he’d come over.
“Sir,” he said. “Do you have anything to add?”
John leaned his head out the window and nodded up at the agent. “You bet I do. If you happen to catch up with this Rockwell corpse before me, please be sure to shoot the sorry bastard many times in the head.”
Ed turned away and started back toward the lead car. “I think that may be the first sane thing anyone’s said to me today.”
Zane turned to the Bugatti, and then both men paused as they reached for their doors. Ed looked back to his protectee.
“Go home, Zane, and stay out of sight. Your new detail will do their best to remain unobtrusive, as long as you lay low.”<
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Zane turned back and leveled his gaze at the chief of security.
“I’m sorry, Ed. You know I can’t do that.”
The agent’s face remained impassive, his eyes shielded like the windows of the cars surrounding them.
“No, I don’t suppose you can.”
He lifted his cuff to his lips, and the doors of the car next to Zane’s opened. Two agents stepped out.
“Your independence is on hold for the moment, son. Collins and Polaski will give you a lift back to Hyannis.”
The agent closest to him reached for his arm and Zane dove into the Bugatti. Patience stared after him for a moment, and then she jumped into the Hummer and threw it into reverse. She hit the gas and took out the passenger side headlight of the rear-most SUV, crumpling half its front bumper as she made room for Zane. He pulled back within centimeters of the Hummer and the lead car gunned its engine, then thought better of filling the space between them as the Bugatti roared and peeled up onto the wide, low-bricked sidewalk below the gold dome. It blew around the black armored convoy, leaving a plume of smoke in its trail as it dropped back onto Beacon Street with Zane’s detail in pursuit. The SUV cut abruptly right as the Bugatti flipped a one eighty at Joy Street and came back up onto the bricks next to Ed.
The Bugatti’s passenger-side window lowered as Zane’s detail pulled up and the agents jumped out. The chief of security held a hand up and they paused.
“What are you doing?!” Zane shouted across his snarling vehicle. “This is a waste of time and manpower that ought to be dedicated to finding Rutherford. Collins and Polaski are good men, and neither of them responds well to failure. You’re setting them up for a long and frustrating night.”
“Frustration is character building.” The agent nodded. “It inspires creativity. I appreciate your concern, son, but they’ll be fine.”
“Come on, Ed. You’re throwing two of your best men at a token gesture. If you were serious about this, you’d have put Mason on it.”