by Karl Morgan
"No, sir!" Zeke exclaimed.
"What did you or your agents do to the president's plane?"
"I did nothing and I have no agents, sir. I had an image move across my mind and I told the CIA director about it. Didn't anyone check it out?"
The vice president laughed out loud, stood up and moved to a different chair where his back would be to the mirror. "You must think I'm a freaking idiot, Zeke. Is that what you think?"
"No, sir. I am only telling you what I saw. That's it."
"I have a theory about you, Zeke. Do you want to hear it?"
"I'm not certain I do, sir."
"I think you're a very bad guy, Zeke. You killed the North Koreans because you did not want to be a stooge to their leader, or because they wouldn't pay you enough. You killed El Tiburon because he was threatening your friend's business," Andy said.
"You think El Tigre is my friend?"
"Look at the facts, son; he broke you out of an FBI facility in San Diego and took you to his ranch in Mexico. Do you expect me to believe a complete stranger did that?"
"His brother-in-law couldn't allow those agents to sell me to the Koreans, and he convinced his brother-in-law to help."
"How much was El Tigre paying you to help him plan his business?" the vice president asked.
"Nothing. He never paid me a dime," Zeke replied.
"Personally, I think you're a foreign spy, Zeke," Andy stated. "I'm just not certain if you work for the Russians, Chinese, or Iranians."
"I am not a spy."
"You know, I think I just made up my mind, Zeke. I am almost positive you work for Iran. Russia and China aren't stupid enough to down Air Force One. Once the truth got out, they'd be kicked off the Security Council and every normal nation would cut diplomatic relations. The Iranians could not care less about international opinion. How could you support those bastards, Zeke? They support terrorism around the world. What kind of monster are you?"
"Mr. Vice President, I am not an Iranian spy!" Zeke exclaimed.
"You know, son, you are on my shit list for the fire in Brazil too. I can't imagine how evil you must be to kill all those people just to besmirch patriotic companies like Reliant. Once the evidence of your handiwork is discovered, you will pay with your life."
"The fire happened?"
"Oh, don't play games with me, Zeke. You can play the part of an innocent until the lethal injection moves through your bloodstream. That day is coming real soon, Zeke. There will be revenge for the president and the slain Brazilians, I swear it," Andy growled. His frown disappeared and he smiled and stood up. He turned to smile at the agents through the mirror and then patted Zeke on the shoulder. He pressed the button on the table and said, "Zeke and I are finished. You can take him back to his cell." He looked at Zeke and smiled, saying, "Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Thompson." He walked out of the room.
§
"Good afternoon, my name is Fred Drake, and I am the CEO of Reliant Industries," a man in a perfectly-tailored suit began. He was standing at a podium in front of a group of reporters summoned to hear the corporate side of the events in Brazil. Television cameras captured every word and broadcast them across the world. Tens of millions of people sat in front of their television screens watching the event that preempted normal programming on most networks. Shannon Thorpe, the reporter who broke the initial story, sat in the front row taking notes. Drake pulled at his collar at the sight of her, and he wondered what her motivation had been. "First and foremost, we regret the loss of life and damage that occurred due to the fire in our facility in Campinas, Brazil. While it is true that our safety measures met or exceeded all local guidelines, clearly they were not sufficient, and Reliant Industries is committed to quickly and efficiently handling all injury and loss claims. Reliant is a long-term partner in Brazil and we look forward to many years of safe operation that will be mutually beneficial to our company and the people of that great country. I can take a few questions now."
Abe and Sarah Thompson watched from the living room of the Maui house. Outside each window, an armed guard protected them and kept them here. "What a jerk!" Abe exclaimed. "He knew damned well that the local standards were inadequate. He just wanted to save the bucks by not installing sprinklers."
"Calm down, sweetheart," Sarah replied. "At least he doesn't want to talk to you anymore." Abe looked back at her quizzically.
A reporter asked, "Mr. Drake, was your management team in Campinas aware that propane and chlorine tanks were nearby?"
Drake replied, "No. We had no knowledge of the existence of those hazards."
A second reporter said, "Isn't it true that the article published by the San Diego Union Tribune just last month noted the existence of those hazards?"
"I'm sorry, but I can't read every article in every publication," Drake answered. "If that information had been sent to me, of course I would have reacted."
A third reporter said, "Just four days ago, it was reported that you called that same article, written by Ms. Thorpe rubbish. Is that true?"
"Squirm, you bastard," Abe said to his television.
"I do not recall such a comment," Drake said. "But I think we are all missing the most important point. This was a terrible tragedy. Reliant lost employees, and many other innocents perished due to the inadequate protection of chlorine gas tanks. Some have claimed that sabotage may have led to the tank ruptures, and the fire only concealed the evidence."
Shannon Thorpe asked, "Mr. Drake can you share any specific information on this purported act of sabotage?"
He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, but I do not have any details at this time. Agents from the US Government have been in contact with executives at Reliant and noted that the circumstances around the chlorine storage and ruptures seem inconsistent with damage from either a fire or impact by shrapnel, as would occur when the propane tanks exploded."
Shannon asked, "Does the government believe this was corporate sabotage, or are other nations or entities involved?"
Drake chuckled softly, "I really cannot go down this line of questions, Shannon. I have probably already said too much. One thing we all know is that certain groups and nations have a desire to cause damage to the reputation of the United States and her citizens and corporations. Although the NTSB has not made its final report, I know that all of us are reeling from the crash of Air Force One. There may be no connection between these events, but from what I understand, all leads are being examined and a person or persons of interest are currently in custody."
"Who is in custody, Mr. Drake," another reporter asked.
Drake smiled and said, "You might want to confer with Ms. Thorpe on that matter. I think that's it for tonight. Thank you for your time and attention. Goodbye." Drake walked off the stage and disappeared. The reporters were buzzing for a moment until the feed was cut and an announcer closed the special report.
Abe clicked the off button on the remote and tossed it aside, saying, "Shit, they're trying to blame all of this on Zeke!"
"Is that who he meant?" Sarah gasped.
"Who else does Thorpe know that is in custody?"
A woman's voice said, "He's right." They turned to see Bea Watson standing behind the couch.
"You shouldn't be here, Bea," Abe warned. "There are cops everywhere, and they're probably listening in right now."
"No, the house is clear," she replied. "Taron swept it before I stepped through. But listen, I only have a few minutes. I want you both to come to the future with me right now."
"Are you nuts?" Abe exclaimed. "If the police find us gone, they'll think we're terrorists. Then they'll take it out on Zeke."
Bea walked around the couch and sat between the Thompsons. She took their hands in hers. "Things are happening too fast," she started. "My future is starting to slip away. Vice President Lake is much more unstable than our models predicted."
"What in the world are you talking about?" Sarah asked.
"Sarah, the past affects the future an
d the future affects the past," she said. "In the past that I studied in school, President Ben Nelson was not seriously injured in the crash. Air Force One did not lose a wing and tumble to the ground. It started to lose lift and the pilot made an emergency landing in a cornfield. No one died. Something changed that but I don't know what or why. In the past that I learned, President Nelson put the crash behind him and completed two terms where he focused on negotiation and teaming up with other world leaders."
"But that still didn't stop the war," Abe noted.
"No, but it delayed it. You and your son delayed it too, and ultimately a great future awaits the survivors of the war. But Lake isn't Nelson. He is convinced that a foreign regime is responsible for the crash and the accident in Brazil. He is going to act before the president can recover because he knows Nelson won't attack. If that happens, the war will begin now, hundreds of years before the Kalideans discover Earth. If things keep going as they are, they will discover a dead planet with no life and only the rubble of destroyed cities."
"But the president will recover, even if the first attack has occurred," Sarah said.
"Perhaps you are right, Sarah. But Lake is ready now to kill Zeke even though he has no evidence of any wrongdoing. Once the missiles start to land, I think Lake will assassinate Nelson in order to keep power and fulfill his blood lust."
"Bea, what good will our escape do?" Abe asked. "Once your future disappears, won't we just be back here?"
"We have to force the vice president's hand," Bea replied. "With you gone, Lake will be certain that all of you are spies and he'll kill Zeke."
"What?" Sarah asked.
"Don't worry, I won't let Zeke die, but they have to believe they killed him. I know this is a lot to absorb, but you have to trust me," Bea replied. "Once Lake believes Zeke can't tell his version, he will move to attack. I am hoping that gives Zeke and me the chance to save the president's life and end the madness."
"That sounds insane to me," Abe noted.
Bea looked at her watch, picked up the remote and turned on the television. "This is what I'm talking about," she said, pointing to the screen.
A newscaster said, "This is a news alert from Washington, D.C., where Vice President Andrew Lake will now make a statement to the country."
The image changed to the White House where Lake stood at a podium looking through a stack of note cards. He looked up at the camera and said, "My fellow Americans, I come to you this evening to update you on the facts we have regarding the crash of Air Force One and the condition of our beloved president, Ben Nelson. We should all be heartened to know that Ben is improving, although his progress is slow. I respectfully ask that your families say a prayer for his speedy recovery. I met with a team of physicians today, and they have decided to not to begin the protocol to end the induced coma Ben has been under. They will consider his condition again next week and decide what to do then. I must tell you I was heartbroken when I received this bad news."
"He's lying," Bea whispered. "He is delaying the protocol to buy himself more time." The Thompsons stared at her.
"Federal law enforcement agencies are tracking down agents believed to have influenced both the crash of Air Force One and the horrific gas attacks in Brazil. There is some evidence that both disasters were planned and executed acts of terror," Lake continued. "We have one person in custody here in Washington at this time. Although he has not been forthcoming, I am confident we will find his connection to either Al Qaeda or the Iranian government in the coming hours or days."
"More lies," Bea said. "I can't believe he's just making that up on live television." Abe and Sarah were too stunned by the vice president's words to react to Bea.
"I call on the perpetrators of these cowardly acts to admit their guilt!" Lake shouted. "Those responsible will rue the day they chose to attack the United States of America!" He turned and walked away.
"He is crazy loco, I'll give you that, Bea," Abe said. "So, if we go with you, won't he just launch nukes anyway? How does that help?"
"He is making this stuff up. He knows that the facts will come to light in a matter of days, so he is tempted to act now and hope the war distracts attention from his lies. But he is still planning carefully and trying to figure out a way to get rid of the president and bury the facts," she said. "With the right push, he'll stop planning and just react. That gives us a chance to save the president and Zeke. Believe me, the vice president is crazy, and if we let him do it his way, all of your family will be dead along with the president, and the war will begin. Think about who he is blaming, Iran and Al Qaeda. Those two are the only ones likely to accept blame even though they didn't do anything. This country is their devil, and they'll take any chance to claim credit for damaging it."
Someone was knocking on the front door. "It's now or never," Bea said. "They're here to take you into custody." Abe and Sarah followed Bea into a small den where a black circle hung on the wall. Bea took their hands and they stepped through. A flash of light lit up the interior of the house and the circle was gone. Seeing the flash, the men unlocked the front door and searched the now-empty house.
Chapter 17
The secretary of defense and vice president sat on a couch in the Oval Office. A television nearby showed a live video feed from the streets of Tehran where officials were praising their spies for their work in downing the president's plane. A sea of citizens held banners in the air and chanted "Death to America." The scene switched to other cities where similar gatherings were being held. After a few minutes, the vice president turned off the set and turned to Albright, saying, "Frank, this video is priceless. I doubt Hollywood could have done better."
"Andy, this is for propaganda purposes," Albright replied. "Their UN ambassador has strenuously denied all allegations and demanded an apology from our ambassador."
Andy smiled and leaned back, "You know what? I could not care less what they want. Frank, this is more than we could have hoped for. Even if they publicly deny it now, there are hours of video where they bragged about it! Checkmate!"
"What are you going to do, Andy?"
"I'm going to bomb them back into the Stone Age!" the vice president exclaimed.
"Sir, it is possible that the Air Force did not adequately maintain that jet?" Frank squeaked.
Andy laughed out loud. "You think I still care about that! That's yesterday's news, Frank. Now, Iran is taking credit for attacking the United States president. That's an act of war, buddy."
"I'm not certain that would be wise, sir," Frank said. "You know the Russians and Chinese support Tehran. We don't want a global war over this, do we?"
"I'll leave that to Cathy to fix," Andy said calmly. "With this video evidence and pictures of millions of joyous Iranians dancing over the attack, they will have no choice but to let us do what we must."
There was a knock at the door and one of the president's assistants came into the Oval Office. "Excuse me, Mr. Vice President, FBI Agent Stan Morgan is here with a video that the FBI director thinks you need to see right away."
"Send him in, Jill," Andy said. The woman walked out and the agent walked in. "What have you got, Stan?"
He held up a DVD in his hand and said, "Mr. Vice President, this video came from a security camera in the hangar where the Air Force One jets are maintained. May I play it for you?" The vice president nodded and Stan slipped the disk into the player.
Stan pushed the play button and the screen filled with a view of an Air Force One jet sitting inside the hangar. Stan began, "This video was taken two days before the crash. As you know, security around those planes is very high. You can see the timestamp showing it was 0900 hours and the maintenance crew is just entering the hangar after having their IDs verified and scanning them for foreign objects."
"Seems very normal," Andy noted.
"Yes, it does," Stan said as he pressed the pause button. "You will note that a total of twelve men have entered the hangar. Ten are mechanics and the other two are security. Most
of the video is standard, but now let me fast forward to 1145 hours," Stan replied as he accelerated through the feed. "Now it is break time. You can see the men sitting down in the rest area drinking coffee or soda and chatting." He froze the frame and walked up to the television and counted them out loud. "Twelve, right?"
"What's your point, Stan?" the vice president complained.
"Oh my God!" Frank blurted.
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"The secretary sees it too," Stan continued. He pointed to an open access panel on the wing of the jet. A man's head was visible. "Thirteen."
"There was another man?" Andy gasped.
"Yes, sir," Stan answered. "I'm just skimming this now, but we have studied every frame of this video. That man never came in or left by any door. No evidence of him exists anywhere. It's like he appeared out of the blue."
"That's our Iranian agent!" Andy shouted. "Amazing! Have you put out an APB for him? Is anyone looking for him?"
"That man is dead," Stan replied. "We analyzed the photos and even lifted a few prints from the wreckage. He does not appear in any of our systems anywhere."
"What makes you think he's dead then?" Andy asked.
"His body is in a morgue in San Diego, California. The eyewitness reports did not make much sense, but that's all we have."
"Go on, I want to know it all," the vice president said.
"Make I sit down? This might take a while."
"Please sit down, but give me the Reader's Digest version, son. I don't have all day," Andy replied.
"When we compile the various accounts, we end up with this. This man was trying to run down another man in a strip mall parking lot in San Diego. Some reported that the other man was struck and flew through the air, although no body was ever found. This man got out of his car carrying a weapon, apparently to finish the job. When bystanders started to come to help, he leveled his gun on them and they backed away. He looked around for a few seconds for the man he ran over. Just then, another man appeared and shot this man in the temple at point-blank range. The other man exchanged his gun for the dead man's and then disappeared and is still at large."