Dead Promise

by Linda Wells

  “I think we need to get you some coffee and something to eat. We could use something, too.”

  George looked at Mark. This was going to be tough. Max was quiet, didn’t respond at first, but then he nodded his head. It was a start.

  27

  “Just coffee,” Max said.

  Mark said, “Be right back.”

  George stepped into the hallway. “Mark, get an update on her.”

  He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

  George went back into the bedroom. Graham must have gone into the adjoining bathroom. She heard the shower running, which gave her time to look around. Nice furniture, mission-style, mirrored dresser, all very masculine and orderly. The military did that. The silver box caught her eye. She didn’t have to look in it. She pulled open the top bureau drawer. Some clothes, neatly folded: T-shirts, workout shorts, and socks. Another drawer with some bikini panties, a lacy black something, a blow dryer. She closed the drawer quickly. Several of the other dresser drawers had the usual men’s clothing, nothing unexpected.

  The shower stopped running. Graham came out, hair damp, wearing the same shorts but a different T-shirt, faded green with a West Point insignia. The blinds were closed, darkening the room. George studied Max Graham. He was handsome in a rugged way, with broad shoulders and a muscular build. She knew his military background; a West Point grad, he had done several tours in the Middle East, both Afghanistan and Iraq. He was special service chief to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He was known for his expertise as a military strategist, and, at age forty-two, he’d earned the lines in his face.

  “Do you want to talk here or downstairs?” she asked.

  “This is fine.” He sat on the bed.

  “Yes, it’s quiet here. May I?” she asked, looking at the chair in the corner of the room.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  George had to move some clothes out of the way before sitting down in the dark-burgundy leather chair to the right of the bed.

  “What can you tell me about last night?” she asked.

  “I met you at Suzy’s.” He looked her square in the eye. “Then I drove home.”

  He hesitated.

  “I think you know the rest,” he stated.

  She knew he wasn’t being a smartass. She heard the numbness in his voice.

  “Did you know Greg Hammond was coming over?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “Wait. I called my commanding officer at the Pentagon, left a message I was taking some time off,” he said slowly. “Then I had a drink, maybe several; I can’t remember.”

  “Did you have any calls?” she asked.

  “No,” he said, “I don’t think so. I haven’t checked my messages. I think one of the other agents has my cell phone.”

  “I’ll check with Agent Patterson in a minute.”

  She looked down at his bandaged feet.

  “What happened, Colonel?” she asked.

  “Something woke me, a noise, and I went downstairs.” He was almost whispering.

  “Do you know what time it was?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “Guess I was pretty out of it.”

  “Did you talk to Hammond last night?” she asked.

  “No, I didn’t even know he was here, until…” He stopped.

  “You know what they wanted to do, right?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Is there anything you can tell me, anything you remember, that can help us find the person who wanted Dr. Chen dead?”

  “No, nothing,” he answered.

  She knew he was telling the truth. And that he wanted to find the killer more than she did.

  “Did she share anything with you about what she was working on?” George asked, looking down at her notepad.

  “No,” he stated.

  She wondered when she could tell him about Suzy Chen. Chen might talk to him and give him a lead on the Organization or whoever was behind the terrorist attack. But not yet.

  She heard Mark’s footsteps on the staircase. He came in carrying two large coffees.

  When he handed George one of the cups, he said, “Everything’s fine, for the moment.”

  “Good,” she said.

  She looked at Graham. He sat quietly, arms on his knees, bent over, staring at his hands. He looked up, his blue eyes bloodshot, holding her gaze.

  “Is Lee safe?” he asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” answered George.

  Graham was tense, his jaw clenched. He whispered, “She didn’t have to do this. I could have gotten her sister out.” He shook his head, his anger obviously about to erupt. “She didn’t trust me.”

  “I believe she was trying to save your life, Colonel, and her own. She didn’t want you involved in this,” George said. She hesitated. “We have more to talk about when you’re ready,” she said.

  “Let’s have it,” he said.

  28

  It would take a lifetime for Max to make any sense out of what Suzy had done. If she had done this thing. He still couldn’t believe it. He had lost more than the love of his life. Disillusion is a devastating emotion. His code of honor would never allow him to accept her actions, no matter what the reason. And he felt responsible for not stopping her. He would never allow love to mar his judgment again. Never again. He felt the moment his heart hardened. He would find her killer, probably the same one who had murdered Greg. Revenge didn’t begin to cover it. He had a sworn duty. And he wouldn’t check out again. If he hadn’t been blind drunk, he might have been able to save Greg’s life. Or maybe they both would be dead.

  How many would die because he had fucked up? Max looked down at his West Point ring, twisted it as he thought of what had gone down since the morning before. Suzy had been desperate to talk to him when she’d called him from the lab, and he had planned to meet her at her condo last evening. He wondered if she was going to tell him, maybe about her role in the attack, everything. If she was involved. But he didn’t get there in time.

  “Goddamn it,” he thought. How could he have been so wrong? Maybe there was more. There had to be more. He couldn’t understand. She’d had the means and the opportunity. But the motive? No. He had totally lost the ability to grasp that she was somehow involved in this terrorist act. He would find out the truth. No matter how long it took.

  Max looked down at his West Point ring again, thinking of the ring his dad had worn, similar to his; then he looked at the dresser, the small silver box. He had never gotten the chance to give it to her. But he remembered her promise to him.

  He would never forget their last weekend together. He had wanted to broach the subject, but the right moment had never come. He’d wanted to say, “Baby, tell me everything, and let me help you,” but he hadn’t been able to. He hadn’t wanted her harmed in any way. Or her family at risk. He had done exactly what Greg had told him to do. Watch her. They had spent a wonderful weekend together, and he hadn’t noticed any change from her normal behavior. She’d checked e-mails and finished a report she had been working on, but mostly they’d made love, shared intimate meals, endless conversation, never apart, touching and holding each other, doing everything and nothing together.

  But mostly he thought of the last time he had seen her. They had held each other as close as possible, and he had felt her love and passion mixed together. He’d wanted her. But he’d had to leave, telling her he would call when he got home. She had been noticeably quiet.

  Then she’d said, “You know I love you, right?”

  He said, “I know.” Then he got into his Mercedes, backed out of the driveway, and drove away. His last memory was of Suzy standing in the driveway, waving to him until his car was out of sight.

  When he called her that night, she was in bed. She had answered with a breathless “Hey.”

  He remembered his words: “Will you marry me, Suzy?”

  And she had answered, “Yes.”

  That was all he’d needed to know. Now she was gone.

 
; 29

  The president and first lady were in the private residence, having dinner with their two teenage children, who were home from college on summer break. Katherine had requested that the White House chef prepare pizza, a favorite, to celebrate their homecoming. Both Jay and Katie were sipping Cokes, talking nonstop about their classes and summer plans, as they enjoyed the delicious pepperoni pizza. They seemed to be unaware of the dark cloud of worry overshadowing the evening. President Jake Howland and his wife, Katherine, neither really able to taste the food, were grateful that their children were safe and would remain inside the White House grounds until the crisis was over. Whenever that would be. Jake and Katherine were also going to remain at the White House, unless an unforeseen event forced them to move to the secure bunker.

  The president knew he had to remain optimistic in communications with the American citizens and do everything in his power to get the nation through this unprecedented crisis. His calm demeanor didn’t reveal his fears for his country. His stint in the air force had given him a strong background in facing threats, but even heavy artillery wouldn’t stop the invisible enemy the country was facing.

  Known as “Jake the Snake” by his squadron buddies, he loved the shock-and-awe mind-set that all US fighter pilots adopted: hit hard, hit fast, and destroy. He hadn’t lost that mind-set and never would. He’d been engaged to Katherine then, and he’d had three main objectives: complete the mission, get home alive and in one piece, and marry the girl of his dreams. He had managed to do all three.

  After serving eight years in the air force, Jake married Katherine, and they moved to Raleigh, where Jake had taken a position as CFO of a small but growing investment firm. But he wanted to continue serving his country, and his first step was running for governor of North Carolina, his home state. After two terms as governor, he was drafted by his party to run for the office of president of the United States. He humbly accepted. Jake Howland was the logical choice. He had a chest full of medals, an MBA, and the respect of both parties, not just as a veteran, but for his performance as governor.

  Through the grace of God, his own strength of character, and sheer determination, he went on to win the greatest political office, president of the United States. In his short three years as POTUS, he had accomplished what most thought impossible. He had a no-nonsense approach, and with a strategic plan and a smart choice of advisers, Jake’s reelection was a certainty. The economy was turning around, people were getting jobs, and he was just getting started. His presidency had the makings of the perfect Hollywood movie: a war hero in the White House and his beautiful high school sweetheart as first lady. And it wasn’t a fantasy. Now this!

  They were eating in the family room, the television on in the background. It was a family tradition they loved, eating pizza and watching movies. Jake wanted to keep the conversation as upbeat as possible, even though it was hard to avoid talking about the elephant in the room, the terrorist attack the country was facing.

  Jake interrupted the chatter between Jay and his sister, Katie. “It’s nice to have you kids home,” he said.

  Jay was a senior at UNC, and Katie was a freshman at Georgetown University.

  “It’s better than eating at the frat house,” said Jay.

  “I’m sure you miss your friends, though. I’m sorry that your plans for going to Europe this summer will have to be postponed. Have you talked to the guys?” asked Jake.

  “Yes, sir,” answered Jay. “I guess we’re all going to have to stay home for a while.” He seemed more subdued than usual.

  “None of us expected this,” said Jake. “But we have a great team, so try not to worry.” He tried to sound reassuring. “You can take the trip next summer.”

  “It’s hard not to worry, Dad,” said Katie. She was chewing as she talked. “And we’re going to be stuck here, and I can’t see my friends.” She sounded like a typical teenager.

  Jake smiled. “I know, sweetheart. Just hang in for a while. You can talk to them on the phone about all your boyfriends, right? Which one is it this week? Are you still dating the nerd in your math class?” He loved teasing her.

  “He’s not a nerd, and we weren’t dating! He was helping me with my math. Dad.”

  Jake laughed. “It’s hard to keep all the boys you’re dating straight in my mind.”

  She ignored him and grabbed another slice of pizza, rolling her eyes at her mom.

  “We’re all going to be stuck here for a while. It’s part of the strategy to contain the virus, and you’ll be safe. That’s the main thing. As soon as the CDC manufactures the vaccine, we’ll be able to get our lives back to normal. We’re fortunate that we’re in the White House,” he reassured them.

  Jake finished his pizza and excused himself. Normally he stayed with them after dinner, if only for a short time. A cabinet meeting at this hour was unusual.

  “Sorry I have to leave you guys,” said Jake. “I have to go to a meeting.” He drank the last sip of his Coke. “Maybe there’s a good movie on tonight.”

  “It’s OK, Dad,” said Jay. “We’ll keep Mom company.”

  Jake bent over, kissed his wife, and said, “It’s going to be all right, Katherine.” But Jay and Katie saw worry in their mother’s eyes, a rarity.

  Both kids hugged their dad, Katie giving him a kiss on the cheek. It had been a long time since that had happened. Jake walked out of the residence toward the elevator, his shadows, two White House Secret Service agents, accompanying him.

  30

  When he arrived in the Cabinet Room, President Howland was greeted by his cabinet, the vice president, the secretary of state, and the House and Senate leadership, as well as the press secretary and assistants. All remained standing until Jake took his seat at the center of the carved mahogany table that ran nearly the length of the room. The Cabinet Room was regal, with pastel-yellow walls and a white fireplace on one end, with a gilt-framed painting of George Washington hanging above the marble mantel. On the other end of the room was a wall of video screens, several showing continuous news feeds, others with blank screens. A white, gold-rimmed china coffee cup with the presidential seal had been placed on the table in front of each member, and a silver urn of coffee with cream and sugar service stood in the center. The American flag and the dark-blue president’s official flag were hanging on the wall behind the president, flanked by paintings of Presidents Ronald Reagan and Thomas Jefferson. The House and Senate leadership were on either side of the president, and Vice President Pauline Davies sat directly across from him. Presidential press secretary Andie Marks and her assistant were seated in chairs placed against the wall behind the president. The thick royal-blue carpet completed the majesty of the beautiful historical setting.

  The mood in the room was somber, everyone feeling the great responsibility that rested on their actions. Crisis meetings weren’t unusual, but this had gone beyond the standard definition of crisis. A catastrophic event had occurred and must be stopped.

  The president began, “Thank you all for coming. Our nation is facing a terrorist attack, and we must take swift action to halt the spread of the H5N1 avian flu virus, which we have begun to do.” He acknowledged both the Homeland Security director and Health and Human Services director.

  He heard a few murmured whispers and waited for silence before continuing.

  “We welcome New York City Regional Homeland Security director Tom Bennett and FBI director Bruce Hamler. Also Mayor Donnelly and the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, army general Roy Johnston.”

  His voice was strong and measured as he continued.

  “I want updates from each department on actions taken regarding this attack, including steps taken to find the person or terrorist group responsible, as well as our plan to stop this viral spread.”

  He looked toward the wall of screens at the end of the room.

  “Let’s start with CDC director Ambrose, speaking to us on a secure video conference.

  Jake asked one of the assistant
s standing in the back of the room. “Are you ready?”

  On cue, one of the large screens brightened as the lights dimmed.

  “Good evening, Dr. Ambrose. Thank you for joining us.”

  Dr. Ambrose responded, “Good evening, Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen.”

  Howland said, “Please give us an update of the viral spread and what’s being done to stop it.”

  Everyone turned to the large screen showing CDC director Ambrose standing in front of a digital map of the United States, with red areas highlighting New York City, Miami, and Chicago.

  “You can see the three major cities that have significant outbreaks, with New York City as the epicenter. We call the cities in red the ‘hot zones.’ Some unconfirmed cases have been reported in cities surrounding these hot zones, but it’s too early to tell how many. The numbers are expected to rise as more people are exposed. The virus spreads quickly due to its airborne capabilities and its short incubation period of about four hours.”

  The shock in the room was palpable. Most were dead silent, but gasps and whispers arose.

  “We have limited stores of antiviral medications, such as oseltamivir, trade name Tamiflu. It’s standard treatment to reduce viral symptoms, but it’s not a preventative. We have about one million doses in our stockpile, and we’ve begun distribution to the major metropolitan areas affected. Our R and D director, Dr. Rudolph, is in charge of the manufacture of a vaccine, which could take up to three months. Walter Reed is working on a vaccine, and we’ve partnered with several of the large pharmaceutical companies to manufacture a safe and effective vaccine.”

  He paused. “We’re also studying a possible H5N1 vaccine that was discovered by lab personnel at the Edgewood Laboratories. We’re running tests to determine exactly what’s stored in the vials. We should know soon if it’s a viable vaccine, but we have to do further testing to determine the dosage, potency, and safety.”

  “Do we know the source of this vaccine?” The president addressed this question to FBI director Hamler.