Storm Surge (Quantum Touch Book 5)

by Michael R. Stern

  “I have a statement for the press, which I'll make in ten minutes. Koppler will be released and we'll be busy. This all ends tonight.”

  “Mr. President, we've had a good run,” said the vice president. “An historically good run. What do you want me to do now?”

  * * *

  WHEN FRITZ CAME downstairs, the family room had grown in population. His mother and TJ, Lois and Mary had joined Ashley and watched the final announcements of the new president's victory.

  “She lost,” Ashley said. “The president just showed up in the press room.”

  * * *

  THE PRESIDENT'S statement caught the press off guard. He walked in unannounced and asked everyone to be seated.

  “We have elected a new president. More importantly, we have secured a government which only three days ago might have disappeared. That has not happened. And now, the people have spoken. Our democracy continues, uninterrupted and intact.” He thanked them and left the stage.

  “I like when he does that,” said Ashley. “Three or four sentences. And right to the heart. I love it.”

  “Koppler won. Again. After all we've done.” Gloom itself spoke using Fritz's voice. “So, if we're going, let's do it. We'll be back later, Mom.”

  * * *

  FOR THE FIRST TIME in a month, Thomas Koppler glimpsed the sun, just as evening arrived. Reaching ground level from his four-story climb, his guards removed the handcuffs and escorted him to the group of waiting civilians.

  “Come with us, Mr. Koppler. You are under arrest,” said the agent, flashing his identification. A new set of 'cuffs pinched his wrists. Before they pulled him out the door, he thanked his guards for their hospitality and their service. Outside, reporters and cameras took in a story about a man none had seen before, or ever heard of.

  A reporter asked another, “Why did we get sent here?”

  “Someone must think this is important. Did you get his name?”

  “His name's Koppler. He seems nice enough,” a guard said. “I wonder what all this fuss is about?”

  A voice behind said, “Before you leave tonight, the story will be clear.” The guard swiveled to see who had spoken, snapped to attention and saluted General Beech. The reporters began shouting questions, but the general merely thanked them for coming. “Make sure your reports say the military handed him over to civilian law enforcement without incident.”

  * * *

  THE OVAL OFFICE was still oval, the president noted, but not yet fit to work in. General Beech and the First Lady sat on the GSA sofas as he leaned against his desk, rubbing the shine that never dimmed. “Koppler called his lawyer. We're waiting to hear from Tom Andrews. Who the lawyer calls is what matters now.” The president touched the wall, now blank, and rubbed the empty space where the Emancipation Proclamation had hung. “I guess it's lost.”

  “Mr. Gilbert has it, sir. He picked it up when he pulled me out of here.”

  When the phone rang, the president said, “Yes Tom. What have you got?”

  “You're not going to like it, Mr. President. Neither is General Beech.”

  “Tell me.”

  The president picked up his gym bag and grinned at his wife. A fluorescent rectangle appeared in the center of the Blue Room, and Fritz and Ashley stepped in. The president offered a wordless greeting, unlike the general's frown and set jaw.

  Ashley said, “You look happy to see us, General. Nice to see you too.”

  “We have work before pleasantries, Mr. Gilbert. You don't have a part in this play, at least not the first act.”

  “Sounds serious. And I brought my sneaks.”

  “Enough, Ash,” said Fritz. “Where are we going? If this is the end, I'm coming.”

  “We're coming,” Ashley said.

  “Not this time,” the president said. “When we go back to Riverboro, there'll be a few more of us. We know everything now and I want both of you to be safe.”

  In the hallway, Colonel Mitchell and at least thirty men were lined up and waiting. Mel Zack and five other agents stood at Ashley's door, full body-armor and multiple weapons at the ready.

  “General, have you got all the locations?” The president handed the folder to Fritz. “Look them over, you two. Figure out how we're going to do this.”

  “You're kidding.” Fritz lifted his head, looking first to the president, then Beech and finally, Ashley. “How is that possible? He helped us. He knew everything.”

  The general glared at the floor. He said, “He betrayed us.” The president licked his lips, and touched the general's shoulder. Below the anger, sadness swelled.

  “We can talk about it later,” said the president. “We have three places to hit at once. His home, his Antwerp office and his secure closet.”

  “What about London,” Fritz asked. “What about his bodyguard?”

  “The placement has to be perfect, Fritz. The British have all his London hangouts guarded. MI5 is in on this with us. Jane's friend William is in charge and he's waiting for our signal.”

  Ash said, “Fritz, I did left, right, center on Tuesday to the nuclear plant. It worked. We have three now.”

  “Then let's get this over with. Colonel Mitchell, your first team goes on the left, second on the right, and the last one in the center.”

  “Fritz, I want my agents to go to the center,” said the president. “That's the closet. Either way, they'll be the first back.” With three quick door openings, the hall emptied. The president had been correct. Mel Zack returned empty-handed in less than a minute with the other agents. Within seconds, the team from the office exited. The third time, the door opened with the sound of a screaming woman piercing the doorway. Florian Declercq once again stood in Riverboro, underdressed and surrounded by weapons pointed at him. Without words, the president motioned Fritz and Ashley to join them.

  “Please let me explain,” said Declercq, perspiration rolling down his face.

  “Say your piece,” said the general.

  “Jim, he had people watching when you and the major met me. They followed the messages about Massoud back to me. I assume from the tailor shop. The bugs in our suits. I told my wife we were meeting for dinner. Richemartel threatened me, my family. My office and home are filled with listening devices. Our plan for me to switch places with the British agent. The mask.”

  “They knew it was a fake from the start?” the president asked. “Even when you were here, safe, you didn't tell us. And when they blew up your ship, nothing.”

  “Mr. President, I didn't know they sank my ship. Please. I only found out how much they knew when we were on Richemartel's cruise. They knew about Gabrielle, about everything.”

  “How could they? Who did you tell?”

  “I told my wife. I had to explain why my actions were so abnormal.”

  “We warned you. We told you not to say anything to anyone,” the president said.

  “I trust my wife. She said nothing.”

  “But you did, Florian. I trusted you,” said Beech.

  “You left the agent out in the cold. We could have saved him. You're responsible for his death,” said the president.

  “I kept you out of harm's way,” said the general. “You put yourself there. You could have warned us when you got off that boat. You didn't. You betrayed us, you betrayed me. You took advantage of our friendship.” The general's knuckles were squeezed white, both fists closed tightly. “There's an old saying that the forces of evil are served when good men keep silent. You disgust me. Get him out of my sight, Major Dolan.”

  “No, wait,” said Ashley. “They told you they would kill anyone resisting the plan. And you let them.” Three men grabbed Ashley as he started toward Declercq, whose hands covered his face. “He's responsible for Jane,” Ashley yelled, as he was pulled down the hall.

  Restraining Ashley proved less difficult than they thought. The president placed his hand on Ashley's arm. “Ash, he's not the one who did it. You killed that man. We caught others. Major.” He turned towa
rd the group in front of the portal. “Take him to a bus. We'll be talking more later.” The soldiers released Ashley and escorted their prisoner toward the door.

  “We have more to do,” said the president. Then he explained the next stops. With the folder in his hand, Fritz stood at Ashley's desk, removed the pages for Declercq's capture, and laid the others in front of him. He looked at the general.

  “He's my adjutant. Koppler picked exactly. He chose better than I did.”

  “Who's this last one?” Fritz asked.

  “The worst one of all,” said the president. “Someone who I trusted. Who knew everything. As it turns out, he has a well-concealed gambling addiction.” The entries were swift, the anger controlled, and the arrests painful for the betrayed. The president couldn't look at Sam Clemmons, when they pushed him into the hallway. Tom Andrews had done a thorough job, identifying and then researching everything.

  “Sir, it wasn't personal. I needed the money. Jim Koppler told them.”

  “Sam, people have died because you said nothing. You're a coward. You saw with your own eyes the damage he caused. Gentlemen, remove Mr. Clemmons from the presence of real heroes. He dirties this place.” As the parking lot door closed, the president said, “Judas has a new face.” Each time handcuffs clicked tightly, Fritz had expected a sense of finality, resolve, relief. Instead, his anger boiled.

  The subdued hallway, filled with men who questioned their own judgment, left no room for entertainment. Ashley said, “I just don't feel like playing basketball right now. Maybe we were never meant to have that game.”

  “Better times are coming, Ash. I promise you, before I'm out of office, you'll have your chance.” The president looked around him at angry, somber and doubting men, whose spirits needed lifting. In keeping with Ashley's routine of wise cracks, he said, “And I'll add one hundred dollars to my retirement fund.”

  Ashley grinned, briefly. Refusing the bait, Fritz asked, “What are you going to do about Tim Miller?”

  “What do you really want, Fritz? I'll arrest him if you want. You can come with me. Or you can tell me to let him go, in front of Linda and your mother-in-law.” He waited for a reply that didn't come. “He'll be home on Sunday. I've arranged for a private jet. Ashley, I'll need to be at the house at eight on Sunday night.”

  Fritz said, “I want to go with you.”

  While Ashley set up the president's return, Fritz walked to his classroom and sat at his desk. He rubbed the hole that had been his desk lock. Before he left, the president stopped in. Fritz lifted his head from his crossed arms.

  “I told you a while back that only a few men are truly honorable. Men who put others ahead of themselves. You've been one of them, consistently, in spite of danger and loss.”

  “That doesn't change things. I'm not sure I'd do it again the same way.”

  “We don't get do-overs, Fritz. But I've watched you for a long time now, and I believe you would. Exactly the same. I'll see you on Sunday.”

  When the school finally emptied, Ashley sat at a student's desk facing Fritz.

  “We've finally finished, Ash. A year and a half of insanity. But it's not over for me. At least you got Jane back. I'm really happy for you. I mean it.”

  Fritz rested his cheek in his left hand, and stared into the nothingness of his desktop, thinking of the magic that was lost. For one of the few times in his life, Ashley held his tongue. He walked to Fritz's bookshelf and ran his fingers over the spines, reading titles. “You want to go somewhere?”

  Fritz sat up in slow motion. “I want to go see Linda, but the wave has hit the shore.”

  * * *

  ON SUNDAY MORNING, Fritz told Mary that she should plan to leave in the next few days. TJ needed his mother, he told her, and he was taking him to Linda later.

  * * *

  A COLD NOVEMBER wind sprang up late in the day, spreading the first snow across his lawn. When Ashley arrived, Mary and Martha were fussing to get TJ ready to go. Martha had asked if he would be bringing the baby back, and when he told her he wasn't sure, she packed some clothes and toys. At quarter to eight, with TJ bundled up, he and Ashley went to school. Tony was waiting with Nat.

  Ashley put his desk key in the lock and set a picture on his desk. He pulled the door open, and the aroma of fresh apple pie drifted into the hall. Moments later, he and Jane returned. Next stop, the White House.

  “Before we take this trip, tell me what you want me to do,” said the president. “Two FBI agents are waiting outside the Millers' house. I'll arrest him if you want. They've been home for a couple of hours.”

  “Frankly, I don't care about him. I want to see Linda, talk to her. But if he's a problem, if you can get him away from us, that would help.”

  “Anything you want. I'll follow your lead. Is everyone ready?” TJ squeaked that at least he was. The president nodded to Ashley.

  The portal opened to the middle of the living room. Raised voices could be heard coming from another room. “Hello,” the president called out, moving toward the sound.

  “Who's there?” said a male voice.

  “The president,” Fritz said, “and me.” Chairs scraped and footsteps approached.

  “Where are you?” Tim asked.

  “The living room.”

  Tim's face peered around the entry, and he walked in. Emily and Linda stood in the foyer just behind.

  “Mama,” said TJ, and Linda ran to Fritz.

  “Nice to see you, Lin,” Fritz said, as she reached for the baby. Fritz twisted, putting TJ out of her grasp. She looked in his eyes, not sure if she was relieved, happy or still angry. “It's been a while. How are you?”

  “Get out of my house,” Tim yelled. Fritz turned to face him, pushing his hand out to hold Linda back.

  “Tim, this would be a good time for you to be quiet. Emily, take him out of here. The president wants to talk to him, and I'm here to talk to Linda. Jane and Ash, go with them, please.” Again turning to his wife, he asked, “May I sit down?”

  She gestured to the sofa and sat down with him. He handed TJ to her. “A baby needs his mother. And I need you to come home, to both of us. Linda, you've been here deciding what I hoped would lead you back. I've not bothered you, but I've missed you and TJ every day. I'm not a caveman, and I'm not going to drag you home. But I love you and I want you to come home.”

  “For months now, I've thought about how the portal has changed us. I don't know if I can come home. I don't think I love you anymore.”

  He let out a gasp. The crushing words brought him to his feet. “I guess I don't have anything more to say.” He left the room and walked past the Miller family room. Illuminated by the fireplace, Tim and the president sat facing each other. More soft conversation came from the kitchen, where Emily chatted with Jane and Ashley.

  “Emily, I'm leaving. You all come back when you want.”

  “Where's Linda?” Jane asked. “I want to talk to her.”

  “Where we came in.”

  “Wait until I talk to her, Fritz.”

  “No. There's nothing here for me anymore. Sorry, Emily.”

  “Fritz, can I…” He shook his head and left the kitchen. He stuck his head in the family room. “Mr. President, I'm leaving.”

  “Good riddance,” said Tim.

  “Your call, Fritz. I've explained the consequences of treason.”

  “You can't prosecute stupid.”

  “Those who can't do, teach,” chanted Tim.

  “Don't push it, Tim,” the president warned, as Emily stepped behind Fritz. “He just saved your life.”

  Fritz stroked TJ's head and kissed it. Jane had stopped talking when Fritz came in and watched each move. He straightened, looked down at Linda, his eyes beginning to well, and then stepped through the portal. He told Nat and Tony that the others would be back soon and walked out into the snow.

  * * *

  A WHITE COATING covered Fritz's head and shoulders and large flakes sparkled heavily in the headlights. “Fritz,
get in,” said Jane, as Ashley slowed to match his steps.

  “I'm walking.”

  “You left your coat in your classroom. At least put it on.”

  The cold hadn't gripped him until she spoke. The numbness came from his icy welcome, and Linda's frozen words had made him shiver, the coldest he'd ever remembered.

  “Just get in,” Ashley said. “We'll be home in a minute.”

  “If you want to walk, I'll walk with you,” Jane said. “But put your coat on.” She held it for him, nudging his arm to get his attention. Putting her arm through his, she whispered, “Let's walk.”

  Fritz had disengaged and Jane's combat background helped her to recognize trauma. She and Ashley had found him, walking away from home not towards it. She steered him back. She told him that she had asked Linda to be matron of honor and told Emily how seriously injured he had been. Emily said no one had told them, and they'd been so concerned with how Linda looked that she hadn't asked.

  When she stopped talking, Fritz asked, “Did the president arrest Tim?”

  “He didn't. He said he didn't believe you wanted that.”

  “It doesn't matter.” He stood still. “What else did she say?”

  “She told me she'd wanted to come home, but felt she'd lost her way. She said, 'Ripples.' I'm not sure what she means.”

  “Ripples. She blames me. The portal. 'Ripples' is Tony's word to explain how the portal affects the future. I understood what he meant. So did Linda. I've changed my own future.”

  * * *

  “JOSEPH, I DON'T CARE what you have to do,” Emily said. “Get the first plane home. Use the emergency credit card. If you hurry, you might even be able to charter a jet. Call me when you have an arrival time. I'll come get you.”

  “Mom, what's going on?”

  “I'll tell you when you get here, but I'm outnumbered and they're both out of their minds.”

  “Tell me now so I can analyze on the way home. I'm on my computer now, and I can't get out of Boston until morning.”

  “Dammit. All right. Here's the story.”