by Kim Baldwin
Back outside, Shield found Ryden anxiously seeking her out amongst the cars and cops.
“Thank God, you’re all right,” Ryden said, running up to her.
“I’m fine.” Shield smiled.
“I panicked. Didn’t know what to think when all the cops and the ambulance showed up. I thought…I thought…”
“Shh.” Shield held her by the shoulders to calm her. “It’s over. TQ was arrested.”
“Ms. Wagner.” Pierce came up behind them. “I’d like you to go with Chief of Police James.”
Ryden looked from Pierce to Shield. “I’m being arrested.”
Pierce hadn’t discussed this with Shield, but then again, he didn’t have to. Shield knew it was inevitable and she couldn’t do a thing to stop it. She wanted to stop time, turn it back and change everything, but she couldn’t do a thing.
“I’m afraid so,” Pierce said.
“Tell them the truth, Ryden. Tell them what they did to you.” Shield tried to stay calm. “You’re a big part of the proof against TQ and what she pulled, but you were an unwilling accomplice. Let them see that.”
“I don’t think they’ll care. I’m a criminal to them,” Ryden replied. “That’s all that matters.”
“What you are, Ms. Wagner, will depend on the president’s testimony,” Pierce said. “As you know, she hasn’t made any charges as of yet.”
“Which means what?”
“That your future depends on her,” Shield said.
Pierce gestured for the chief of police, who had been waiting out of earshot, to join them. Chief James looked at Ryden and hesitated. He appeared uncomfortable, probably due to her resemblance to Thomas. Reluctantly, he removed the handcuffs from his belt.
“No cuffs.” Pierce stopped him. “Her arrest stays quiet until you hear from the president.”
“You got it,” James replied. “This way, ma’am.” He gestured to Ryden.
“Tell them everything,” Shield repeated as Ryden took a step toward James.
“I’m sorry…about everything.” Ryden stopped again and turned to Shield. “I hope you can one day forgive me.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
As soon as the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Monty was escorted to an exam room and given nitroglycerine for his heart, while a trauma team worked on Jaclyn elsewhere in the ER before whisking her away for surgery.
“You need to take it easy,” the doctor told him. “Your heart’s in bad shape, as you already know, and—”
“Yes, yes. I realize all that. Have you heard anything about Ms. Harding?” Monty buttoned up his shirt, feeling much better after the pill.
“I’ll see what I can find out.”
He headed out into the waiting area. Shield and Arthur, who’d gotten his forehead stitched, stood when they saw him approach.
“Nothing on Jaclyn, yet,” Arthur said. “How about you? How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine now. Where’s Monroe?”
“As close as they’ll allow her to the operating room.”
“What happened?” Shield asked. “How did you get TQ to cooperate?”
“When I heard you…” he looked at Arthur, “say that Jaclyn wasn’t doing well, I headed out of the restaurant to come find you. I’d made it as far as the door when I saw TQ being escorted out of the building by five of her men.” He filled them in on what they’d missed.
Monty hurried across the street and intercepted TQ as she and her goons neared a black Mercedes parked close by. “Ms. Rothschild.”
He knew TQ had seen his picture when she’d made Arthur, and the fact that she blanched proved him right.
“Mr. P…Pierce. I…”
“We had a deal.”
“Who was the man I saw in my office?”
“I prefer to protect my identity, but you leave me no choice.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You’ve made a very big mistake, TQ.”
“Is that so? Because frankly, I doubt you have any power over me at all.”
“If I may?” Monty carefully reached for the cell inside his suit pocket and punched in a number. When the call went through, he said, “This is Montgomery Pierce from the EOO. I need to speak to Madam President. Tell her it involves her safety.” He put it on speakerphone while he waited.
“The president’s office,” a male voice said. “How can I help you?”
“I need to speak to the president directly,” Monty replied.
“That’s not possible, sir.”
“Tell her I know what happened to her. She’ll know what I mean.”
TQ didn’t try to stop him, but she fidgeted with her purse.
Seconds later, that distinctive Maine-accented voice came on the line. “This is President Thomas. Who is this?”
“Chief Administrator of the EOO. We have worked for you in the past.”
“What can I do for you?” the president asked carefully.
“I know about your abduction and replacement.”
A long pause. “How?”
“That’s not important. I also know you are afraid to talk because they said no one would believe you and you will lose your credibility and put your family’s safety at risk.”
“How do you know all this?” she asked.
“Madam President, we have helped people in your situation before, and we can do it again. I will provide the proof the world needs and give you and your family twenty-four-hour protection until the people involved in your kidnapping are arrested.”
“Even if that’s true, how do I know you’ll find these people? I can’t hide myself or my family forever. I’m the president, Mr.—”
“Pierce. We already know who did it.”
“What?” Thomas snapped. “Why haven’t they been arrested?”
“I can make that happen in approximately…” Monty checked his watch. “Eight hours.”
TQ grabbed the cell from his hand and disconnected.
“Time is wasting,” Monty said. “You have eight hours, Cinderella.”
“Bring them both here,” TQ said to her men.
“No.” Monty was afraid Jack was too weak to cooperate on the trip up, and moving her around would only enhance the blood loss. If she was barely conscious, she’d never survive being manhandled by these butchers. “I’m going to get them myself and you’re coming with me.”
“You don’t need me.”
“I want you where I can see you until I get what I came for. Tick tock.”
TQ pushed the goon behind her aside and stomped back to the building.
“Oh, and by the way,” Monty said when they got in the elevator, “should Jack not survive, I will destroy you anyway.”
“All this fuss for a nobody assassin,” TQ said benignly as she looked at her reflection in the shiny metal door.
“Also, should you ever come near her or anyone she cares about, I will personally rip that ugly head you keep admiring off that skinny body.”
“You called Thomas?” Shield asked.
“No, I called Wagner,” he replied. “Of course, I called the driver first, who played the role of secretary.”
“When did you have time to prepare them?” Shield asked him.
“I didn’t. They both knew what to do,” Monty said. “It was pretty evident when I called asking for the president.”
“She’s good,” Shield said, referring to Wagner.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d be hard-pressed to buy that she wasn’t the real president.”
“What’s going to happen to her?” Shield asked.
“That’s not up to us, but I’m sure it won’t be good.”
“They framed her to cooperate, and she did help us find out who TQ is. That’s got to mean something.”
“I hope for her sake it does.”
“What do you mean?” Shield looked puzzled.
“You’ll see,” Monty replied.
*
Jack woke in such a fog she had trouble focusi
ng. She didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there, but what she could hazily make out in her limited field of vision—white blankets and an IV stand—indicated a hospital room. “Am I dreaming, or what?” she mumbled.
“Baby?” The familiar, soothing voice came from close by. “Baby, can you hear me?”
“Cass?” Jack tried harder to clear her fuzzy vision but couldn’t.
“Yes, it’s me, honey.”
Jack felt warm lips touch her own.
“You’re going to be fine.”
“What happened?”
“You’ve lost a lot of blood, some ribs are broken, and you have a concussion.”
“I was in a building, in this basement.” Jack tried to remember. “They kept punching and kicking.”
“Shh. I know.”
Jack felt wet drops on her hand. “Are you crying?”
“You’re safe now,” Cass said, her voice breaking.
“Don’t cry.” Jack never could stand to see Cass cry; it hurt her to the core.
“I’m happy, baby. That’s all.”
“I’m so sorry I got you involved. TQ wanted to hurt you for what I did to her brother.”
“I know.”
“She said she’d let you live if I surrendered. I didn’t have a choice. She’d keep coming for you if I didn’t.” Jack tried to move, but her head felt like it would explode from the pain. She groaned.
“Try not to get excited,” Cass said. “You don’t have to explain.”
“You’re easy to track down because of—”
“The orchestra. I know.”
“How did you locate me?”
“Monty did. He…he found out TQ had taken you and did everything to find you.”
“Monty?” Jack repeated, confused. “Why does he care?”
“Because…he just does.” Cass caressed her hand. “He saved your life.”
“Why?”
“Maybe you should ask him when you’re all better. He’s outside right now and would really like to see you.”
“No. Not like this. I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“You look better than when he found and carried you.”
“Say what?”
“He wouldn’t let anyone else touch you. The paramedics had to pry you away.”
Jack was either too dizzy to understand Cass right, or she was in a coma dream. “Cass?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I want to go home. I don’t like hospitals.”
“Soon enough. Get some rest and I’ll see what I can do.” Cass let go of her hand.
“Don’t go.” Jack tried to sit up, but the effort sent a white-hot burst of pain through her head and midsection. “Fuck. Damn it, that hurt.”
“Jack, please stop moving.”
“Stay with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby. Ever. Now, get some rest.”
*
The Oval Office
Elizabeth Thomas sat at her desk, watching as her secretary admitted John Kaplan, director of the Central Intelligence Agency, and Calvin Sneed, the secretary of Homeland Security, into the Oval Office. Her advisor, Kenneth Moore, stood beside her, actually unusually fidgety—no doubt because she’d uncharacteristically sidestepped his questions about the reason behind the impromptu meeting.
The CIA had called an hour before, to tell her that Theodora Rothschild had been arrested—the woman behind her abduction and the one responsible for creating a double to take her place. Elizabeth had refused to answer any questions or admit to anything over the phone; she wanted to address the issue in person immediately.
Kaplan waited until her secretary had departed before speaking. “Thank you for meeting us on such short notice,” the CIA director said. “But you understand this is a sensitive matter.”
“Indeed,” she replied. “Thus the lack of media and the fact that I wanted only you three men present for this discussion.”
“Let me get to the point, Madam President.” He cleared his throat. “The chief of the EOO, Montgomery Pierce, has proof of your kidnapping and replacement in the White House from February twenty-fourth until last night. We are not sure what Mrs. Rothschild aimed to accomplish, but it is an act of terrorism against you and the country. We need to know why you haven’t come forward with this information.”
“What are they talking about?” Moore looked like he’d just heard pigs could fly. “Elizabe…Madam President, is this true?”
“Let me ask you this.” She addressed Moore. “Did you notice any difference, any change in me—my looks or otherwise—during this period?”
“Of course not,” he replied. “This is insane. What are they talking about?”
Elizabeth had wanted Moore there to prove a point to these men. Even her closest aide had apparently failed to pick up on the fact that anything was amiss—either while she was gone or since her return to the White House. He’d arrived for work early that morning, his usual cheery self, seemingly oblivious to anything different about her. His only comment had been about her looking rather tired; he’d also mentioned that her sister had called, anxious to spend some time with her because they hadn’t seen each other since the Find Your Sport festivities. Clearly, the double had even fooled her sibling.
She stood and paced behind her desk. “It’s true,” she finally said to Moore. “I was kidnapped and replaced by a double.”
Moore gasped. “No. How can that—”
“A very convincing one,” Elizabeth added.
“No doubt about that,” the CIA director said. “We have her in custody and are tempted to salute her every time we see her.”
“But…but…” Moore looked aghast. “This is crazy. I would have known. I would have at least—”
“My own family didn’t see the difference.” Thomas ran her hand through her hair. “And after having met the double, I can see why.”
“You met her?” Moore practically shouted. “How could all this take place under my nose? I spent plenty of time with you in the past weeks. I never had reason to suspect anything.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Yet you were in the presence of a stranger.”
Moore sat down, shaking his head in bewilderment. “How did this happen?”
“During the attack at the Jefferson Hotel. They exchanged us in the elevator.”
“We even gave you around-the-clock protection after the assault,” he mumbled.
“Harper Kennedy,” the secretary of Homeland Security said. “From the Elite Operatives Organization. She’s the one who uncovered the truth. She didn’t know what, but she knew something was different about you.”
“Whatever happened to Kennedy?” Moore asked. “I haven’t seen her all day.”
“It’s funny how a complete stranger realized something was wrong,” Elizabeth said.
Moore frowned. “I feel like such a failure.”
“Because you are,” Secretary Sneed said.
“Excuse me?” Moore replied, clearly offended.
“Kennedy named you as Rothschild’s inside person. You were in on this plan from the beginning. Senator Schuster was also blackmailed to retract his compliance in the weapons law, because apparently Rothschild threatened to remove the black-market organ she sold him for his son.”
Elizabeth felt faint. Moore was involved in this? Her longtime family friend and trusted confidant? “Is this true?” She looked at Moore, but he didn’t answer and refused to meet her eyes.
“According to Kennedy,” the secretary continued, “Moore is also responsible for the death of your husband, Madam President. He hired someone to poison him at the golf club, because the double, as convincing as she was, would have never fooled your husband.”
Speechless, Elizabeth walked over to Moore, still seated in a chair by her desk.
He looked up at her. “I can explain, it’s not all true—”
She slapped him hard across the face.
Kaplan cleared his throat. “What did they aim to accomp
lish, Madam President?”
Elizabeth glared at Moore. “Speak.”
“Not until I see my lawyer.”
She turned back to Kaplan. “I’ve been looking for any new amendments for hours. The only change in my plans has to do with the illegal-weapons agenda.”
“Oh,” Kaplan and Sneed said simultaneously.
“Is that the only change?” Kaplan asked.
“As far as I can see, yes.”
“Pierce from the EOO mentioned that Rothschild was a weapons dealer, among other things.”
“It’s a multi-billion-dollar enterprise,” Elizabeth said. “I knew it would rub many the wrong way, but I never thought they’d go this far.”
“It’s not the first time,” the CIA director said. “We’ve—”
“I’d rather he wasn’t present during any further conversation,” Elizabeth cut in, glancing at Moore. “Please, get him out of my sight.”
Kaplan made a phone call and no one spoke further until the president’s secretary escorted a blue-suited agent into the room.
“Take him in,” Kaplan told the agent, nodding toward the special advisor.
Moore stood. “I want to see my lawyer.” No one reacted as he was led away.
“As I was saying,” Kaplan continued once they were alone again, “we’ve covered many instances of attacks against presidents by extremists and terrorists, and we have even personally assisted in providing doubles.”
“But it doesn’t change the fact that you were abducted and your safety and position as president of this country compromised,” the secretary of Homeland Security said. “Why haven’t you pressed charges?”
“I don’t intend to,” Elizabeth replied.
“Madam President—” The secretary began to argue.
“Please.” She gestured for him to stop. “Rothschild—or her people, to be more precise, who appear to be Russians—has threatened me with my family’s life. She will keep that promise in or out of jail.”
“We can give them around-the-clock protection for as long as you serve your term.”
“And what happens when my term is over?”
“We will continue to—”
“But not as passionately, and let’s face it, I cannot have my family under constant surveillance for the rest of their lives. My sister’s kids deserve a normal life, and so do my sister and her husband.”