by R Arundel
***
“It’s good to be home.”
The sky is clear and the sun is just coming up.
“We’ll spend a day at the safe house, then head out to Alice. Kofi will be waiting,” says Liam.
“I’m just looking forward to some real rest,” says Sarah.
Matthew says, “I think most of what we have to do is right here.”
The plane touches down smoothly on the runway.
“Matthew, why do you say that?” asks Liam.
“Just a feeling.” Liam speeds the plane to the hangar and powers down.
Jason draws his weapon, a Glock 22. He makes sure the silencer is secure and positions himself behind a desk. As soon as they exit, they will realize the airport staff is not present and know something is wrong. By then he will have his laser sight right on Matthew’s chest.
Matthew is exhausted, but they have no time to lose. What he has learned on the mountain is devastating. It is too much to contemplate. Unfortunately, it all fits together. Sarah comes out first, followed by Matthew, then Liam.
Jason says, “Raise your hands. You are under arrest. Proceed forward with caution.”
Sarah obeys. Matthew and Liam put their hands up and follow.
“Do not attempt to run. If you try to leave the hangar, my guards outside are under orders to use deadly force.”
Jason hustles Matthew into a room and closes the door. He shoves Matthew roughly into a seat. Matthew bumps his head. Jason moves back six feet from Matthew. The red light of the gun’s laser beam makes a small red dot on the middle of Matthew’s forehead.
Jason asks, “Why?”
“I’m not the one who is behind all this.”
“You are going to die. You only have a few minutes left. Don’t waste them with lies.”
“There’s no time to hold me. An attack that will decimate the United States will occur in three days.”
“You just wasted five seconds.”
Jason takes out the picture of the tall, thin man in police uniform, the man in the shadows. “Who is he?”
Matthew lies. “I’m not sure, but he’s the one you want.”
“I want a name.”
Chapter Forty-Three
“The President of the United States of America is a double agent,” says Matthew.
At any other time, Jason would have laughed, but Matthew has a laser-sighted gun pointed in the middle of his forehead. Jason remains silent.
“The President of the United States was kidnapped by whoever is behind this. His face was harvested and transplanted onto a double agent. The man sitting in the White House right now is not Carter Middleton—he is a double.”
“What government is behind this?”
“I am not sure. Tom did the transplant. He was much further along with his transplants. He could transplant a face perfectly, leaving none of the scars that occur with the current facial transplant techniques. The man in charge made Tom do the transplant. They initially told him that it would be in exchange for his wife’s life. Patricia had a gambling habit.
“After he transplanted the president, they presented him with the face of the Secretary of Defense, George H. Brown. At that point he balked.”
“They wanted Tom to perform transplants for the President of the United States and the Secretary of Defense. Of course he wouldn’t do it. The only reason to transplant the two at the same time would be to access the nuclear codes.”
“Precisely. They miscalculated.”
“Keep talking.”
“They drugged the real president and harvested his face. They then had Tom put it on the body double of the president. Tom was under the impression they would keep the real president sedated and allow the double in the White House for only a few hours. Then he would put the real face back on the president. Tom knew which drugs would not only have sedated the president but also erased his short term memory. When he saw the face of the Secretary of Defense, he knew it was not a simple plan to get a few secrets or make some money. Transplanting both the President of the United States and the Secretary of Defense could only mean they planned to detonate nuclear weapons, or release bioweapons. Tom refused; they then killed him.”
“The President of the United States of America is a double agent? Is there a foreign power behind this?”
“I don’t think there is a foreign power involved. If I’ve worked this thing out properly, I think the real president is still alive. The person in the office right now is an impostor. That’s what I’m saying.”
“That’s incredible.”
“Tom would have been told they were after money. It would make sense. They were thugs, and Patricia needed to repay gambling debts. Tom would have worried about espionage, but it was unlikely. And what were his options? They played him perfectly.”
“So what went wrong?” says Jason.
“He transplanted the president as asked, no complications. As soon as they presented the face of George H. Brown, the game was over. Tom knew George H. Brown was murdered—it was not a climbing accident as had been reported in the news. He would also quickly put Michael Coulson into the picture since Michael was with George H. Brown when the “climbing accident” occurred. Their plans were obvious. Every high school student knows that those two men together hold the launch codes for the nuclear arsenal. I think they counted on the fact that Tom had no options. He couldn’t back out. They probably spent a great deal of time trying to convince him to do the second transplant.”
“This is all speculation.”
“Not quite. Kofi Adebayo was there that night. Tom asked him to stay hidden. He heard much of this. Tom refused to do the second transplant. They took Tom away and they killed him. They were forced to improvise. That’s when they flew the Secretary of Defense’s face in a canister to our lab with his body double. They wanted me to put that face on the guy in my operating room. Obviously, they were not going to go to Michael’s lab.”
“How do I know this “perfect transplant” is possible? No lab is anywhere near that kind of result.”
“Didn’t you wonder how I moved about in the US? I’m sure you had many of my known contacts staked out. Your men would have taken photos of a man about my height and build visiting my mother in Central Park. That was me.”
Jason remembered the mystery man who met Matthew’s mother in Central Park. He knew that person had no records, didn’t exist in the system. He had looked at that those pictures a thousand times, and there were no surgical scars.
“That was you?” says Jason.
“That was me. Tom had developed the perfect face transplant.”
“What’s the plan—steal our nuclear codes?”
“No. The fake president is going to release bioweapons throughout the US. He plans to kill 90 percent of the population.”
“This sounds a bit rich.”
“You need to make a decision. Kill me, hold me, or send me to a foreign power to be interrogated. In any scenario, you will have on your hands the worst human tragedy in American history.”
Jason has the laser-sighted weapon positioned perfectly. He takes the safety off. He has waited a long time to kill Matthew. He is tantalizingly close to achieving his goal. Erase him.
He has convinced himself that he is going to do his duty and terminate a psychopathic murderer and traitor. He can finally remove the one thing that stands between him and Celerie. Jason squeezes the gun tightly. His eyes narrow. Matthew looks Jason right in the eye. Jason puts the safety on the weapon and puts it in his holster.
Jason laughs.
“Could you let me in on the joke?”
“Life can play some real funny games on you sometimes, man. Did you know I’m getting married?”
“I heard. Congrats, she’s a wonderful girl. Make every day of her life better than the last. She deserves that.”
“I intend to.”
Matthew smiles.
Jason continues, “We can’t just go to the White House and say to the
president, ‘You’re a fake.’”
“He would have us arrested, I agree.”
“If he is a fake, we would be killed before we could prove anything.”
“That’s the challenge,” says Matthew.
“We need the mastermind. Who is it?”
Matthew lies. “I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you get this info from Michael?”
“Michael was killed. I was able to piece most of it together from clues in his cabin. I know the mastermind lives in the Meatpacking District. If we can’t find him within twenty-four hours, I take what I have to the new Secretary of Defense, Congress, anybody.”
Jason pauses. The story is incredible, but he did see the man in Central Park. The photos were HD quality, and the man was Matthew’s build. If that was a transplant, it was perfect. Some of the rumors floating around the White House would also be explained. The rush to get The Freeze deployed throughout the United States before the vaccine is ready now makes sense.
Jason takes a deep breath and pulls out the photo. “Here’s your mastermind.”
Matthew snatches the photo up. “Did you identify him?”
“No, this was taken at Amanda’s house after the murder. This man is not with any law enforcement agency.”
“Who is he?” says Matthew.
“I don’t know.”
Matthew is relieved; he is almost certain he knows the identity of this man. Matthew wants to confront him personally, one-on-one. Matthew hopes beyond all hope he is mistaken. There are only a few private citizens with the money and knowledge to create such a masterful scheme. Matthew has told Jason many half-truths, but he wants to solve this in his own way.
Jason throws another photo on the desk. “This is the footprint of our man. The shoe is from Mervyn Clewes. The imprint was from an area beside Amanda’s body.”
Jason had taken the photo himself. He realized the shoe print was strange and intricate. He didn’t know how it fit in, but it just looked out of place. The pattern of the sole was very distinct. It almost looked like a coat of arms.
“Mervyn Clewes?” says Matthew.
Jason, “Mervyn Clewes, a bespoke shoemaker. He makes a cast of your foot. Then over the course of a year, he makes your shoes.”
“Our man wears Mervyn Clewes?”
The man they were after has to lead a double life. This footprint will lead them to his headquarters in New York. Matthew is sure the real President of the United States is still alive. If he can find the headquarters of the mastermind, he will be able to save the real president and stop the release of The Freeze. These photos are just what he needed.
“Our man wears shoes made by the bespoke bootmaker Mervyn Clewes. I am going to visit Mervyn Clewes. Why don’t you join me?” says Jason.
Jason speaks to his men outside. The hangar is opened and the two uniformed men given instructions. Sarah and Liam are released.
Chapter Forty-Four
Ryan walks comfortably down the hospital hallway. He uses the weight room daily. Life has handed him some challenges. Who doesn’t have challenges? He is going to work it out. He misses the kids. He has tried to reach Aly, but her mom says she doesn’t want to take his calls. She needs time. That is fine. He misses Aly, but he has to move forward.
The prosthesis is being made to cover the hole in his face. He will use it and get on with his life. Doc MacAulay will help him if he can, but from what he hears, Doc MacAulay is in serious trouble.
Ryan doesn’t believe Doc MacAulay has done any of the things they said. When he gets back on his feet, Ryan makes a promise to visit Doc MacAulay in prison. He is convinced Matthew will be in jail very soon. He will visit him regularly, help in any way he can. Never leave a comrade behind.
Ryan sits in his room reading a magazine. He looks up and Aly is standing in front of him. She has lost even more weight. She is wearing a new dress. The new short hairstyle suits her face.
“It’s been a while,” says Aly.
“Hi, Aly. I’m glad you came to visit.” Ryan looks at her perfect white teeth. She always had an amazing smile.
“You’re looking stronger.” Aly sits beside the bed.
“How are the kids?”
“They’re doing great. My mom is spoiling them crazy.”
“Sounds like your mom.”
“I got a job in town.”
“Here?”
“Yes.” Aly smoothes the wrinkles in the dress where it hugs her hips.
“That’s great.”
“The bank renegotiated the mortgage. I can make the payments. Mom helped us a little. So we’re all good. I’m bringing the kids home in a few weeks.” Aly smiles. “You should be out by then. I spoke to Dr. Lambert. He helped straighten out some of the finances. He really went to bat for us.”
“Dr. Lambert turned out to be pretty great.”
“I want us to be a family again. We’ll all be together.”
“Can you live with this?” Ryan removes the triangular bandage. He has a large space where his nose should be, the tissue around it puckered.
Aly looks and then gives him kiss on the puckered skin.
***
The shop of the bespoke bootmaker Mervyn Clewes is on Fifth Avenue. It has an old-world ambiance. Heavy club chairs with handsewn leather. The smell of leather pervades everything. The workshop is part of the store. It is open for all customers to watch. Craftsmen hammer and sew shoes. No robots here.
Matthew looks at a pair of shoes, works of art. Intricate stitching and fine leather detailing for every shoe. The craftsmen work behind solid wooden benches. Their metal awls and pincers are well-worn. They wear leather aprons with the Mervyn Clewes name embossed across the front. The youngest worker is sixty-three. One craftsman had pure white hair and heavy wrinkles over his eyes. The man was working away on a pair of black wingtips.
Jason moves toward a man dressed in a tailored English suit. Matthew follows behind.
“Mr. Mervyn Clewes,” says Jason.
Mervyn Clewes has a slim build. His shoes are brown, freshly polished. They complement his light gray suit. He wears a light blue shirt with fine threads of brown running through the material. A silk tie and pocket square complete the look. Understated elegance.
“You must be Jason?” says Mervyn.
“Yes.”
“From the old country?”
“By way of Connecticut more recently. The accent dies hard.”
“Just a trace, but I heard it. When you called me last week, I was under the impression you would be alone.” Mervyn Clewes glances at Matthew.
“You were correct. There have been some recent developments. This is Matthew. He is also aiding in our investigation.”
Mervyn Clewes walks over to his desk at the far end of the store. There are two men at the other end being fitted for shoes. The store is quiet, with an old money feel, although in reality most of the customers are new money. They are willing to pay quite a ridiculous amount to look like old money. Mervyn Clewes sits at his desk and plays with the mouse to get the computer to start.
“The shoeprint you sent me is from a very interesting client. We have a number of anonymous clients. They come in, have their feet measured, or have someone send in the measurements. Discretion is a big part of our business.
“Were you able to trace this shoe?” says Jason.
“We use a standard sole, the intricate design is our trademark. However, we tend to have a little fun with it. We make each slightly different. To the casual observer, our crest would be easily recognized on the sole. But we can look at the sole and identify who bought the shoe. A few of our craftsmen even play with the design so they can say what year the shoe was purchased.”
Matthew says, “Our investigation is in a very critical stage. If you could give us the name and address, the situation has some urgency.”
Mervyn Clewes looks at him briefly and then continues. “This man never came into the store. Every year he orders three pairs. A courier
picks them up. He has been doing this for better than ten years. Your sole imprint was very good. We are certain it is this man.”
“You have been most helpful, Mr. Clewes.”
Matthew turns to leave, but Jason sits comfortably in the chair.
Mervyn Clewes says, “For years we kept our eyes out for his shoes. We look at newspapers to see celebrities, world leaders. The first thing we do is look at their feet to see if they are wearing our shoes. We could never find this man and our shoes. As a joke one year, one of our men followed the courier who picked up his shoes. We tracked him to this address.”
Mervyn Clewes hands the piece of paper to Jason.
Jason says, “As I mentioned on the phone, this is a matter of national security. I thank you.”
With that Matthew and Jason leave the building. They both knew the address in the Meatpacking District. Not too far from Matthew’s own home. It is a high-end furniture store in his neighborhood. He has never been in the store, but when he was furnishing his house, the designer had shown him some pieces from the store.
Matthew picks up his cell phone and dials Alice.
“Hi, Matthew, what’s up?”
Matthew gives Alice the address. “Please tell me about this building. We think the mastermind lives here. I need the info ASAP.”
Matthew and Jason hop into Jason’s car.
“Do you want some confidence?” Jason takes out a second gun from his glove compartment.
“No.”
“Are you sure? Untraceable.”
Matthew asks, “Does the word stool mean anything to you?”
“Stool?”