Michelle finally reached Evan’s office and parked outside. She rushed inside to find the receptionist sitting at her place at the front desk. “Hi, Mrs. Parker,” the receptionist greeted.
“Have you seen Dr. Parker today?”
“No, he hasn’t been in for the past few days and nobody has heard anything from him. Is everything okay?”
“He hasn’t contacted any of his partners or been in to see patients?”
“No, I’ve had to cancel all his appointments. We’ve tried to call his cell and the home phone, but only got his voicemail. Is he okay?”
“I don’t think so. Thank you, I’ve got to go,” Michelle replied as she rushed back outside with tears beginning to pour out of her. She had no idea where Evan could be or what to do next, where to go.
Michelle hurried back to her SUV, but as she was about to get back in, a man came up quickly behind her and shoved her to the ground. Not knowing what had happened, Michelle looked up to see the man in her face, yelling “Give me the keys!”
“What?”
“Give me the damn keys,” he yelled again as he knelt down and began patting her coat pockets. Michelle screamed and the man, getting more and more frustrated, backhanded her across the mouth, busting her bottom lip open.
Suddenly, another man violently pulled Michelle’s assailant off of her and threw him against the SUV. The would-be-car-thief slammed into the side of the silver Denali and bounced off, landing hard on the ground. Michelle scrambled to get up off the cold pavement as the second man pulled a handgun from inside his coat and pistol whipped the assailant in the street.
Finished, he turned to Michelle and asked, “Are you okay?”
She stood trembling uncontrollably, still trying to comprehend what had happened and unable to say anything. The second man took hold of her hands gently and looked her in the eyes. “Try and calm down,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m Kevin Cameron, Declan’s friend from the Bureau. You’re alright, but you need to get out of here and get back to the house you’re at out by the lake.”
“How’d you…”
“Look, I want to help you. Get out of town. Don’t stop anywhere for anything. Go back to the lake house and I’ll get in touch with you in the next day or so.”
“But, I’m looking for my husband.”
“I know, and I know where he is. You have to trust me and you have to go right now.”
“You know…”
“I know where he is,” Kevin said again as he gently forced Michelle back into the SUV. “I’ll contact you at the lake house in the next few days and explain everything, but don’t, under any circumstances, leave the house or come back to the city. It’s not safe. Now go and don’t stop for anything or anyone.”
Chapter 46
Tear gas canisters exploded on all sides of Jessica and the white smoke began to fizz and sizzle into the night air. Jessica was jostled by bodies running chaotically in all directions around her. She stood still for a moment, her mouth and nose covered by a bandana tied around her face, trying to regain her composure and figure out the best way to safety. Gun shots whipped loudly to her left in succession and as she turned in that direction, she watched as another female protester was thrown backwards through the air before landing lifelessly a few feet away.
Jessica’s pulse quickened and her body began to shake uncontrollably. Rage and panic overtook her as she looked through the white gas into the open lifeless eyes of the dead woman. In a dash, she ran in the opposite direction, trying to escape the tear gas and gunfire, trying to find some sort of shelter from the storm, a place to hide from the screams and pain-filled shouts that permeated the air around her.
The scene was complete chaos. Death littered the streets. Jessica hurried away from the stinging gas into a small open area featuring a series of park benches set around a circular concrete fountain. It was an idyllic setting in other, normal, circumstances. More gunshots raced past her, seemingly targeted at her. Jessica threw herself down onto the pavement behind the small fountain wall and laid there almost prostrate with her face pressing hard into the cold concrete. She could hear gunfire and footsteps running around the little park, but refused to raise her head or eyes to look. Then, more gunfire and a scream, followed by more shots and the heavy lumbering sound of boots running on the pavement right past her.
The rush of noise and violence finally carried past her and, for a second, there was only her heavy breath against the cold silence. As she lifted her head, she could hear a faint voice on the other side of the fountain saying, “Come in, come in.”
Jessica pulled herself slowly up onto the fountain and, peering over, spotted a Homeland trooper lying in a small pool of blood on the other side. He appeared to be talking into a radio in his helmet, saying “Come in, I’m hit. Come in.” From what Jessica could tell, he had no idea she was behind him. The trooper was wearing the same uniform as the Homeland trooper who had, nights earlier, forced Jessica “to earn her freedom”. The pain and anger of that all too recent violation suddenly flooded her senses. She simultaneously wanted to kill someone, anyone, and to crawl up into a small ball and die herself. Her eyes burned into the back of the trooper’s helmet. Whoever he was, she wished he was dead. Tears of rage and humiliation burst from her eyes.
As she stood sobbing, Jessica saw the trooper’s weapon on the ground a few feet away from him, just out of his reach. Without thinking, she ran across the fountain and jumped down on the other side, swiftly picking up the rifle. The trooper saw her and tried to pull himself up, but was unable. Jessica, who had never before held a gun, turned and aimed the weapon at the injured trooper. He looked no older than twenty, maybe even younger and she could see the fear of death in his eyes.
“Please,” he quivered. “Please, I don’t want to die.”
All Jessica could see was that uniform, that logo on the sleeve and those thick black combat pants tucked into his stupid black boots. A hatred she had never known before seethed within and her mind, unwillingly, took her again to the backseat of the Homeland cruiser. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks as the weapon trembled in her shaking hands.
“Please,” he pleaded again. “Please, God, don’t kill me.”
Jessica heard nothing but the heavy breathing of the trooper above her in the backseat of the cruiser. She saw nothing but the small erratic lines in the black interior ceiling of the cruiser, she’d focused on so intently in order to avoid looking at her rapist. Her hands squeezed the rifle as though she sought to crush it. She fired off two rounds from the automatic weapon, both of which found the lower torso of the already badly wounded Homeland trooper. The trooper let out a labored howl and writhed on the ground in his own blood.
Jessica dropped the weapon on the pavement and ran in the opposite direction away from the ironic serenity of the fountain and back out into the chaos of the surrounding streets. As she reached the next intersection, a concussion grenade exploded nearby and Jessica was thrown against the wall of a building, where she collapsed, unconscious on the sidewalk.
Chapter 47
Bleeker and Kevin Cameron entered the small dark holding cell where Evan lay in a crumpled ball on the floor.
“Lights,” Bleeker called out. “And let’s get two chairs in here as well.”
A few seconds later, a dull, yellowish, artificial light partially illuminated the cell. Evan’s eyes closed, then flickered a few times in an effort to adjust to the dull light. A guard brought two brown metal folding chairs into the cell and set them up opposite one another, then stepped back outside, the cell door closing securely behind him.
“Cameron, pick him up and set him as upright in the chair as you can,” Bleeker ordered. Trying to handle the battered Evan as gently as possible, without looking like he was attempting to be gentle, Kevin slowly lifted him from the floor and propped Evan up in the metal chair opposite Bleeker.
“He’s burning up,” Kevin said.
“What, does he have a fever?”
Bleeker looked Evan over and said, “You do look like crap, my friend.”
Evan’s head hung low as he sat slumped over, looking as though he might fall forward. Whether it was the light or the upright position, a disoriented nausea overtook Evan and he suddenly vomited what little food he’d been given on the floor next to the chair. Kevin, who had been standing behind the chair, reached over and caught Evan as he was about to fall back down to the floor.
Bleeker quickly pushed himself back in his own chair, away from the vomit. “Let’s make this quick,” he said. “I’m due in D.C. tomorrow and I’m gonna be pissed if this guy gets me sick.”
“Agreed,” Cameron replied.
“So, Dr. Parker, your relative usefulness to me has run its course and you’ve run out of time. I’m on my way to D.C. tomorrow, where I’ll be taking up a special advisory role on the president’s national security staff. Part of my new duties will be devoted to the recently implemented martial law and quelling the various civil insurrections that have broken out. The other part will focus on more targeted, sensitive matters. I know, your heartfelt congratulations aside, none of this really means anything to you. However, my first act in connection with the more targeted sensitive matters I spoke of should interest you. It’s been decided to go public with the story about how your brother, and possibly even you, were working with David Stanton on his failed plan.”
Evan raised his head slightly, looking at Bleeker the best he could,” What?”
“Ah, it speaks,” Bleeker responded with a laugh. “I see that got your attention. Good. Yes, it seems your brother was working with Stanton. It’s believed that Special Agent Parker used his position in the Bureau to falsify documents and expunge data relating to David Stanton in an effort to conceal his demented agenda. Obviously, his efforts were in vain, thanks mainly to me. Nonetheless, he’s still a criminal and a wanted man.”
“That’s a lie.”
“You know, the funny thing about truth and, conversely, lies, is really just the simple matter of perception and who’s telling them. Tomorrow, all the major news outlets will begin running this story and to millions and millions of people around the country and the world, it will therefore become the truth. Regardless, let’s circle back to how all this impacts you. I no longer really care where your brother is. As of tomorrow, he’ll have no credibility and the array of problems he presented are, for all intents and purposes, solved. So, that leaves me with the question of what to do with you.”
Evan stared at Bleeker, unsure as to what would come next and, at least for that moment, less sure that he cared. “Whatever, you have no power over me,” he said softly.
“Come again.”
“You have no power over me, so do what you will.”
“Of course, because you’re a Christian and all that. Daniel and the lion’s den and all that stuff. No mere human being can touch you because you belong to God or Jesus or whomever, right?”
“Basically.”
“Right. That seems to be working out swimmingly for you so far, I’ll admit. Well, power or no power, I’ve been given the discretion to do with you whatever I see fit, although I haven’t quite decided what that will be. I came in here to maybe give you some say in the matter. To beg for clemency and the chance to maybe see your lovely wife and beautiful children again, provided of course they’re still alive. But, since…”
“What did you say about my family?”
“Nothing. I have no power over you, remember,” Bleeker said as he stood up. “I’ll just have to come to my own, admittedly fallible, decision regarding you and your family. Of course, your Jesus could clearly veto whatever decision I reach. Open 3!”
Clearly agitated, Evan asked, “What do you know about my family?”
The cell door opened and Bleeker and Kevin Cameron stepped out without another word to Evan.
“Where’s my family!”
The guard came back in, shoved Evan off the folding chair back onto the floor, folded up both chairs and left. The cell door slammed shut behind him. Evan lay near death, disillusioned and sobbing, praying that his family was still alive somewhere.
_______________________
As they stepped outside the building, Bleeker scrolled through emails on his smart phone. Kevin asked, “What should I do with him?”
Not looking up from his phone, Bleeker responded dismissively, “Just kill him.”
“What if we were to keep him alive?”
“Why would we bother to do that, Cameron? He’s going to die anyway, did you see the guy?”
“I did, and he may. But, if we keep him alive and put him in a detention center, maybe it will lure Parker back.”
“Parker’s irrelevant now. He’ll be a fugitive and have zero credibility in the morning.”
“True, but collaring, or even killing Parker would bolster a resume.”
“Mine or yours?”
“Both.”
“Fine, move Dr. Parker to a detention center; but, not one nearby. Send him off somewhere to one of the centers in another state. I don’t want any chance of his family trying to find him or, more importantly, for him to have any hope of ever finding them again. Understood?”
“Clearly.”
“And if Parker is stupid enough to come back for him, the collar, the kill, whatever, is fifty-fifty, capische?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’m in D.C. for the next few days, then I’ll be back here. In the unlikely event something comes of this while I’m gone, I want to be notified before anything goes down.”
“You’ll be the first.”
“I’ve got to go. I’ll leave the good doctor’s final destination to you.”
As Bleeker headed to his car, Kevin went back inside trying to decide on the best location for Evan. None were ideal, but he knew of a facility in North Texas that, while meeting Bleeker’s other-state criteria, was not unreasonably far away. Kevin flagged the desk guard and said, “Alright, we’re transferring Dr. Parker to the federal detention center in Fort Worth, Texas within the next couple days. I don’t want him to die in the meantime, so get him out of that holding cell to one with a bed and heat. Clean him up, get him food and water, and let’s get one of the medics in here to take a look at him. This is a detainee who has a certain level of strategic value, not some street rabble, and I want him treated as such moving forward. Understood?”
Chapter 48
Watching the sun rise over the Sacred Valley each morning had become almost ritual for Declan. On the odd morning when there was no rain, the pink, orange and yellow of the sunrise danced about with the greens and blues present in the Urubamba River and the fertile lands and mountainsides bordering it. Yet, even in the drizzly rain, the valley was majestic. Each morning, sitting under the canopy, Declan would read from his Bible. It began with a verse or two, then a chapter or two, until he found himself spending a good portion of the morning before breakfast coming to know the Bible, and consequently, God as he had when he was a young boy.
Declan said a short prayer, opened his Bible, and began reading Ephesians, “1Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, to God’s holy people in Ephesus, the faithful in Christ Jesus. 2Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Declan took a quick look up, through the new morning light in the garden and out onto the winding river below.
“3Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. 4For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love 5he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will – 6to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. 7In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that he lavished on us.”
Declan stopped reading again and tried to let the meaning of the words, the implication of the passage, sink in fully. “A God who would give His only son for all of us,” he thought to himself. It was a difficult concept to fathom. Declan understood sacrifice for one’s own family, but he didn’t think he’d be capable of sacrificing himself, much less a son or daughter, if he’d had one, for a bunch of people he didn’t know.
As he read on, Declan came to Verse 13, which read, “And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit…”
“Hey, good morning,” Megan said coming up behind him.
“Good morning. How’d you sleep?”
“Great. I don’t know if it’s the air here or what, but I always sleep like a rock. You looked like you were deep in thought.”
“I was just reading this passage and it reminded me of my dad. Actually, it was more than a reminder. I could see him reading it to me and Evan when we were kids. I hadn’t thought about it in forever, but reading it just now, I saw it like I was there again.”
“You’ve been reading the Bible quite a bit since we got here.”
“Everyday. It’s hard to explain because, since my dad died, I couldn’t care less about God. I didn’t really think there was a God, most days anyway. But since we’ve been here, I can’t really explain why, but I feel like I have to read it. Almost like I’m being compelled, or called, to read it.”
“Did you believe in God when you were younger, before you lost your dad?”
“I think so. Our parents did a really good job with teaching us about God and Jesus. It was a consistent focus in our home, but, when dad died, I don’t know, something in me just changed.”
“And you stopped believing?”
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