17. Game Over

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17. Game Over Page 21

by Fern Michaels


  And that was how the president of the United States and the retiring head of Global Securities announced their engagement to the world. Betsy Ross captured every living moment. She uploaded the pictures, and they were on the way to the Post for the special edition that would hit the streets at midnight, just as the patriotic party came to a close. She fired off a quick text to tell her people to hold the press for one more set of pictures, which would be arriving momentarily.

  “I guess she said yes?” Jack said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Yeah, I think it was when Jellicoe was licking the duck sauce off her chin. She’s sporting a ring that’s bigger than the one Ted gave Maggie,” Harry said, laughing.

  Paul Revere, mail pouch on her shoulder, tripped down the hall, her boots clattering on the polished floor. She sucked in her breath as she visualized the route she had to take to get to the Oval Office. She longed for Paul’s trusty steed, which would have had her at the door to the Oval Office within seconds. She wondered if she would get the crazy urge to shout, “The British are coming!” when she reached the door. Probably not, because by that time she would be dead from fear or in chains, being led to a federal prison. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest, it sounded like a set of bongo drums.

  Two more hallways, three more corners. God, what if she made a wrong turn? Her hand went to the ponytail on the wig she was wearing and the tiny transmitter that allowed her to hear Bert whispering in her ear. “You’re doing fine, honey.”

  “I wish I had a horse, Bert,” she hissed. “I’d have our pardons in hand, and we’d be home free.”

  “You should have told me you wanted a horse. I could have delivered Delilah, but she wouldn’t have done you much good, since she can’t turn left, and you have two lefts to make,” Bert quipped. “Uh-oh, here comes an agent. I can see him on the parabolic gizmo. You can do it, Kathryn. One of Harry’s guys is coming up fast on his left. Do not panic, honey.”

  Kathryn’s heart pounded hard in her chest. How could she not panic?

  The Secret Service agent was big. He looked to Kathryn like he wrestled alligators for a living and ate his winnings. She saw his raised hand, palm outward, which meant to even a stupid person, “Stop in your tracks.” She stopped.

  “This area of the White House is off-limits to guests. How did you get here?” the agent demanded, his gaze going everywhere.

  Kathryn knew the agent wasn’t going to be impressed with her panicked humor, but she tried, anyway. “As you can see, I’m Paul Revere. I fell off my horse and got stranded. I didn’t know where to go. That means I’m lost.”

  She saw the swirling puff of smoke behind the agent just as Bert whispered in her ear. “That was good, honey. The smoke will hover around the camera. You need to keep going. Harry’s guy, Boris, is coming up fast. Do not hang around to watch the outcome. I’ll relay it to you.”

  Like she was really going to stand around when her freedom lay just around the corner. Sometimes men were so dense.

  “I thought I told you to stop!” the agent said ominously.

  Kathryn saw Boris coming toward her. She wanted to barrel down the rest of the hallway, to do what Bert said, but if she kept going, the agent was going to turn and see Harry’s guy. She stopped and smiled. “Hello, Boris!”

  “Good evening!” Boris said pleasantly.

  The agent whirled, became aware of the vapor hanging in the air, then of Boris himself. “What the hell…”

  “Keep going, honey,” Bert whispered. “You’re going to hear commotion. Ignore it. The bastard alerted his control, and here he comes. Ah, here comes that old guy, the one who can catch bullets with his bare hands. Ooooh, this is good. This is sooo good. Okay, honey, you are at the door. Take a deep breath and open it.”

  Kathryn took a deep breath. “Oh, Bert,” she whispered, “I never thought I would ever, ever be standing here. It’s so…awesome. The carpet is blue, with the great seal—”

  “Kathryn, you aren’t there to admire the decor. Get the pardons and get out of there. Kathryn, are you listening to me? Do not, I repeat, do not sit down in the president’s chair and pretend.”

  “Hmm.” That was exactly what she was doing.

  Suddenly the earpiece in Kathryn’s ponytail gave off an earsplitting whistle. “Get out of there, now!”

  Faster than lightning, Kathryn was on her feet and running for the door.

  “The pardons!” Bert’s voice shrieked in her ear.

  Five seconds later the pardons were in her mail pouch and she was running down the hall, back the way she had come. Puffs of smoke were everywhere as she jumped over prone figures on the floor. Harry’s men at work. Kathryn was so breathless from running, she could barely keep going. She stopped and leaned against the wall when she heard Bert’s voice tell her to stop, catch her breath, and walk through the door on the right. She clutched at her knees as she struggled to take deep breaths. She could do that.

  “Okay, walk through the door, honey,” Bert told her. “The girls are waiting for you. Go straight to the exit and follow instructions. I’m proud of you, Kathryn.”

  Kathryn swallowed hard as she let her gaze rake through the room. A commotion at the buffet table. Was that the president sitting on the floor, with food all over her? She must be hallucinating or on some adrenaline high. Yet another rendition of “Yankee Doodle” was being played by the Marine Band.

  “God, if I had a horse, I’d be halfway to New Jersey by now,” Kathryn mumbled to herself as she caught up to the Sisters. “I got them. I have them right here in my mail pouch. Oh, God, we’re free. Did you all hear me? We’re free. The proof is right here in this bag. I didn’t have time to look at them, though. That office is awesome. Bert said I had to get out right away. I’m going to faint. Someone hold me up.”

  “If you faint, Kathryn, we will leave you here,” Nikki said. “Get hold of yourself. Five more minutes, and we’re outside. You can do it, Kathryn. You’re safe! Take a deep breath, and get with the program. Do you hear me?”

  “Okay. Okay. I’m okay. I did it. Oh, God, I did it,” Kathryn declared.

  Nikki nodded. “Yes, you did, and we are all grateful.” Kathryn sagged against Nikki, who jerked her upright. “You know, you’re right. We should have gotten you a horse.”

  Kathryn started to giggle and couldn’t stop as the Sisters half dragged her to the door that would lead them all outside.

  “Where’s Paul Revere?” Jack asked.

  “On your six o’clock, man. And the Sisters are right behind her. Mail pouch looks to be full.”

  Jack sucked in his breath. “They’re going to do something stupid, right? How the hell many choruses are there to ‘Yankee Doodle’? Those Secret Service guys look pissed.”

  “That they do. It’s because all the security cameras went out at the same time. I thought you knew that, Jack. You say you know everything. How’d you mess that one up?”

  “I got caught up in the moment. What are they going to do?”

  “How should I know?” Harry snapped.

  Surrounded by Secret Service and Global Securities agents, the president and Hank Jellicoe made their way across the room to cheers and laughter. Instead of leaving by the exit, the president—holding Jellicoe’s hand—took a slight detour and went behind the Sisters.

  Suddenly powdered wigs flew in all directions; facial latex and other cosmetic prostheses dropped to the floor. Velcro bindings were opened, and costumes slithered everywhere just as the Sisters reached the door.

  Gasps and shouts of “It’s the vigilantes!” filled the crowded room.

  The ten deadliest men in the world surrounded the vigilantes.

  “Oh my goodness, so it is!” President Martine Connor could be heard to exclaim.

  Betsy Ross clicked and clicked.

  Paul Revere held her mail pouch high. Then she shouted, “Yo, Miss Betsy Ross! See this! It’s our presidential pardons! See, our names are on here!”

  “Got it!” Maggie
shouted.

  The score of Secret Service agents looked to their boss. President Connor, duck sauce still dripping, shrugged. “I guess I forgot to tell you about that!”

  Betsy Ross captured each handshake as the president made her way down the line to each of the vigilantes. She turned to the side and whispered to Lizzie Fox, who was attired in a Mamie Eisenhower getup. “I gotta say, you all put on a hell of a show. And I damn well got engaged in the bargain. Boy, Lizzie, do you have any idea how homely you look in that getup?”

  Lizzie laughed as she started ripping at her wig and her own latex cheeks.

  Outside, in the brisk night air, with the Secret Service scowling, Global Securities agents beaming, the Sisters looked at one another before they high-fived one another.

  “What time is it?” Harry asked anxiously.

  “You got three minutes to get to the van. Go!” Jack bellowed as Betsy Ross also looked at the time on her watch. She literally flew to the Global Securities van and waited a nanosecond for Harry to unlock it.

  “Come on, you guys. Shake it!” Harry ordered as Maggie pressed button after button.

  Gasps filled the van as Sylvester Stallone appeared on camera. It was hard to tell if it was really Sylvester or not with the reception. Whoever it was grinned crookedly, repeated the name of the ten deadly men, and said, “I admire your work. I’m sorry I can’t be there to shake your hands.”

  “Okay, everyone happy with that?” Betsy Ross yelled. “Okay, here come the Jonas Brothers!”

  The picture was just as grainy, and whatever the brothers were singing was sketchy and scratchy, but no one cared.

  Harry was being pounded and pummeled as the ten men congratulated him for keeping his promise. The old man with the ropy arms and Fu Manchu mustache punched Harry on the shoulder. He looked at Harry and squinted.

  Harry blanched. “Listen, I’m not…I didn’t…Yoko!” he bellowed.

  Yoko bounded into the van and ran to Harry and kissed him so hard, his teeth rattled. “What?” she said a moment later.

  “Nothing. It’s not important. I just wanted to see you,” said Harry.

  The old man pointed to Jack, who was kissing Nikki outside the van, and chortled with laughter. “He is one dumb—”

  “No! No, he isn’t. He’s my brother,” said Harry. “And those women out there, they’re my Sisters. And we’re all free now.”

  “Ah, so. That means game over, right, Harry-san?” the old man said.

  “Maybe yes, maybe no,” Harry said.

  Epilogue

  Alexis walked around the rooms with a box of tissues in her hand, which she offered to her Sisters like bonbons on a plate. Everyone snatched at them as they dabbed at their eyes and blew gustily.

  Packed bags sat near the door, waiting to be carried out to the cable car. No matter how hard they tried, the Sisters couldn’t take their watery eyes off the bags and each other.

  “This should be the happiest day of our lives,” Yoko cried as she sniffled into a wad of tissues. “This is the day we said our lives would be complete. I do not feel complete. I do not.” Her shoulders shaking, she leaned into Kathryn, who put her arm around the little Asian woman and squeezed her close.

  “I feel like someone died. This is how I felt when Julia left us,” Isabelle sobbed. “We’re a family, we’ve been a family for years, and now we’re going to separate to the four winds. I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t do this, and here I am, falling apart.”

  Nikki’s voice was so choked, she could barely get the words out. “I dreamed almost every night about this day and how happy I would be when I could run to Jack and tell him…tell him I was free to get married. For so long it was what kept me going day after day. Now that this day is here, I don’t know what to do. I really don’t know what to do,” she wailed.

  Kathryn drew a long, deep breath. “I feel like I did that day so long ago when I didn’t think I could go on one more day. I went to Nikki and she brought me to all of you and you gave me my life back. I thought there could never be a life after Alan died. You all proved me wrong. I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don’t know what to do, either, but I think Bert will help me if I falter. We’re family. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing!”

  Annie and Myra stood clutching each other, their eyes on the girls, who were trying so valiantly not to lose control. Neither trusted herself to speak. Besides, what was there to say? The girls rushed to them, circling them with their arms as they cried out their thanks and their misery.

  “I feel like I lived a lifetime in the few short years that we’ve known one another,” Nikki whispered. “Please, I’m begging all of you. Let’s not allow our lives to come down to a Christmas card and a phone call on a birthday.”

  “That will never happen,” Kathryn said forcefully. “We’re family.”

  “Charles said we could keep our satellite phones. All we have to do is press one of the buttons and we’re in contact,” Alexis said.

  “We’ll see each other in thirty days, when it’s time for the boys to go off to boot camp. We can all go out to the farm and play catch-up. By then we’ll know where our lives are going to take us. Myra’s farm is home. Isn’t that right, Myra?” Nikki sobbed.

  “Yes, dear, the farm is home. You don’t have to call ahead. Your rooms will always be ready. The light will always be on. Please, just don’t wait too long to come home. I feel like Kathryn. You all gave me my life back. There is no way, there are no words to thank you for that, so I won’t even try.”

  “There’s nothing I can add to what Myra said. You all gave me life, too, when I thought there was no life left in this old body. You’re my children, and I love each and every one of you with every breath in my body. Myra…Myra is my soul sister. I hope…I wish…for all of you what I wish for myself on this new road we’re about to travel, the best God has to offer all of us.”

  Murphy and Grady, who were standing near the door, started to growl. The Sisters knew what that sound meant. The helicopter was coming to take them down off the mountain. Two helicopters actually, courtesy of Global Securities, which would take them to Washington, D.C., and the people who were waiting for them.

  Annie was the only one who wasn’t going on the helicopter. She’d opted to take the cable car down the mountain, to where a car waited for her. Although the Sisters, Myra included, itched to know the why of it, none of them had asked what Annie’s plans were. Nor had Annie volunteered anything.

  They all heard it then, the deafening whomp, whomp of the helicopter rotors. Each Sister grabbed a handful of tissues before she ran to the door to snatch up her bags. Charles, his eyes as wet as the girls’, had to stand aside to avoid the stampede. He thanked God that he’d said his good-byes earlier. He simply could not do it again.

  “Time to go, ladies,” he said quietly. “Everything is shipshape for the return of Pappy and his family tomorrow. The larder and freezer are full. The generator, all equipment, and the cable car have been serviced. If I do say so myself, it looks like we’ve never been here.”

  Annie and Myra started to wail as Charles herded them toward the door.

  “Hurry,” Charles urged. “We need to wave to the girls when they lift off.”

  That was all the impetus Annie and Myra needed. They ran like schoolgirls, their arms waving madly, tears streaming down their cheeks. They clutched at each other and somehow managed to stay on their feet when the helicopter lifted off, the winds from the rotors making the ground shake under their feet.

  They looked upward to see the second helicopter hovering. They backed away as Charles appeared with their bags. Annie’s bag was placed inside the cable car. The two women were locked in a tight embrace, so they could hear what each other was saying.

  “This is it, Annie. Let’s not say good-bye, okay? I lied to you. I could never have done the pole. Never in a million years. I am so glad we didn’t have that recital.”

  Annie smiled through her tears. �
�Go!”

  “You go first!” Myra said.

  “No, he’s burning fuel. You go first.”

  “Go! I’ll push you off this mountain if you don’t go,” said Myra.

  Charles patted Annie on the back, blew her a kiss as he propelled Myra forward. Once he and Myra were strapped in and settled, all luggage stowed, the helicopter lifted off. Annie watched until she couldn’t see it anymore. She swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket as she walked around the compound one last time. When she felt something beside her tears on her cheeks, she looked upward. It was snowing again. Another storm was on the way, hence the urgency to leave the mountain a day ahead of schedule.

  Her eyes dry, her back straight, shoulders squared, Annie marched like a recruit on the parade ground over to the cable car. She stepped in, locked the gate, and turned the switch. She counted off eleven minutes to get to the bottom, where she stepped out, removed her bag, before she pressed the switch that would send the car back to the top of the mountain.

  Annie tossed her bag into the back of the Range Rover that belonged to Global Securities, settled herself behind the wheel, and turned over the engine. She switched on the GPS, pressed in her destination, then settled back for the ride that would take her to the Raleigh-Durham Airport.

  Annie looked up at the airport monitor. Her flight would be boarding shortly. She looked down at the boarding pass clutched in her hand. She wanted to cry so bad, her eyes burned. She squeezed them shut to ward off the tears. She felt the air stir around her, but she didn’t bother to open her eyes.

  “Even when I was a little boy, my mother told me I should cry if I felt like crying,” a voice said next to her.

  Annie’s eyes popped wide. “Fish! What are you doing here? Why are you here? How did you know I would be here?”

  “I’m here to stop you from doing something damned foolish. You’re as transparent as glass, Countess de Silva. I got six phone calls alerting me to what you were planning. Seven calls if you count Charles, eight calls if you count Lizzie.”

 

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