Running into the Darkness

by D. A. Bale

  His stomach rumbled in reply. After a quick run through the drive-thru of a burger joint Joe considered his options. Going home was out of the question at present. They’d probably traced his vehicle to the Bureau and thus assignment to him. He needed time to think, to sort through the information floating through his mind and plan his next moves. The motel offered a needed respite for the night. Just to be cautious, Joe parked his car in the lot of a new high rise three blocks down and skirted the lengthening shadows. Yet all the while he remained watchful of the few faces passing along the walkway.

  No one ever smiled in the city, not a glance or eye contact ever passed from one human to the next in the day-to-day passage. In the D.C. area everyone bred suspicion of everyone else. His heart ached for the friendliness and camaraderie of those he’d left behind in Wichita, but he stuffed the thought down inside. Right now he couldn’t afford to think of what was in the past – he had to keep his wits about him just to have a future.

  The cell phone vibrated against his hip. He let it be – no need to draw attention. What if it was Hitchens? Guilt washed over him. He hadn’t checked in with the SAC all day – the man had to be a tad worried, especially if he’d already heard about the impromptu dance with a car hood earlier.

  The simple room appeared surprisingly clean compared to the rough exterior. After devouring the contents of his bag, Joe pulled the packages of note cards from the bottom of the sack where he’d hid them and spread them across the table.

  His hip vibrated again – the SAC. “Roberts.”

  Hitchens’ voice boomed over the line. “We have a cardinal rule when you’re out in the field, and you’ve broken it, Roberts.”

  He should have called from the car when his tail cleared. “Yes, sir.”

  The relief in the SAC’s voice was palpable. “Heard about the wrestling match with the Chrysler. Glad to know you came out on top.”

  Joe smiled. “It’s always the outcome I prefer, sir.”

  “Not going to keep the line open, and I don’t want to know where you are. I had your low-jack signal turned off until you get a chance to brief me. Just glad to know you’re safe. You got a lead?”

  “I do, sir.”

  “Glad to hear it. Check in from now on like a good soldier but never from the same place.”

  “Sir?”

  A serious tone replaced the gruffness. “You’re targeted now, Roberts. They’ve got ways of tracking you even without GPS signals. If you’re not careful, you’ll be pushing up dirt real soon, so watch your back and keep your nose clean, you got it?”

  “Yes, sir.” A chill passed down his spine as the line went silent.

  The note cards glared at him from the table – evidence. Hitchens’ caution echoed in his head: I want no written reports on this. Anything you discover you commit to memory. Agent Roberts set about to do just that.

  ***

  Marcus woke in a cold sweat, the dream from his subconscious clawing its way into his consciousness. They wouldn’t stay away.

  Quietly he slipped on his trousers and padded through the hallways to her suite. Most nights he stayed up and tracked her whereabouts above ground until she made her way back to the cover apartment. Then he’d transport her below and debrief with Debrille.

  These days Alexandra rebuffed him, and Debrille allowed her concession. But tonight he didn’t want Alexandra – he needed Samantha.

  The closet light glowed behind the closed door, Samantha’s contrived nightlight casting a comforting serenity in the otherwise darkened bedroom. Why she chose to sleep with the light never made sense to him, but perhaps he’d find solace in it as well.

  Samantha started as he climbed into the bed and nuzzled up behind her. Marcus reassured, “It’s just me – Marcus.”

  She growled, “Leave me alone. I’m too tired to be Alexandra tonight.”

  The warmth of her skin drew the dream back to the surface. His body ached with longing for the past.

  “That’s okay. Samantha is who I need.”

  Her body stiffened as if she was ready to launch out of the bed or into a tirade, but she didn’t move or speak. Slowly she turned to face him. The light’s glimmer shined into his eyes, and it took a few moments for his vision to readjust before he noticed her studying his face. The hardness of Alexandra’s distrust gave way to Samantha.

  Marcus embraced her softness and brushed his lips against her forehead. Damn – he didn’t want to need her. She was supposed to need him, not this crazy messed up shit. After all of these years, all of the women, why now? Why her?

  His lips caressed hers. Still she continued watching him, her gaze connected to his.

  Questioning.

  Searching.

  Yearning.

  Yielding.

  Their bodies knit together. Marcus made love to Samantha.

  As he’d once made love to his wife.

  Chapter 44 – A Vacation

  The security gate swung wide to allow the convoy of SUV’s into the compound. Relief washed over Samantha as the road trip into the mountains finally came to an end. Camp David loomed before her, the tall trees flashing by in a green blur. The presidential motorcade remained in a perpetual rush no matter where the road led.

  The expeditious trip had been offered, but breaking away from the D.C. area to some place new made it difficult to hold onto Alexandra’s persona. Getting stuck in the staff car wasn’t what she’d envisioned either when Warner asked her to accompany him on the jaunt. The stares and half-hearted attempts at conversation from the regulars spoke volumes and threatened to break her façade. She was grateful the First Lady chose not to accompany them.

  Truth be told, the vacation offer had come at a judicious moment. Anytime she wasn’t with Warner she now had Marcus to deal with. Marcus. The man confused her – had her in knots. He’d changed in a way she couldn’t identify. Around Debrille he treated her with the same indifference, but at night when he’d come to her bed?

  Just as she’d come to the height of Alexandra’s power, at the time when she felt it pulse through her being, Marcus had to go and screw with her mind again. The questions brought Samantha back to the forefront. The struggle between the two commenced as at the beginning. Was this all another test?

  The vehicles vomited their contents en masse at the main lodge. Ben Forsdale herded the group into the building to set up shop. Even though she knew he was aware of her service to Warner, Samantha always felt like taking a steaming hot shower whenever Forsdale passed her way. His eyes ogled her in a way Warner’s never did. The man was as slimy as they came.

  The thought made her ponder Debrille’s hold over her. Did Debrille have access to the Camp David compound? If she could get into the compound, could she also get out? Would the guards let her freely leave? No doubt she could lift a set of keys to one of the vehicles and play it cool through security at the gates.

  The ear chip – the damned ear chip. The Elite would track her like a hound in a fox hunt before she could get more than a mile from the compound. Then they’d just have to decide when to hit the trigger to blow her head into a million pieces like a suicide bomber.

  The thought froze in her mind. Samantha stared out the lodge window to avoid scrutiny as her brain processed the new realization. If they’d really wanted to kill Warner, Debrille could have detonated the ear chip while she was in his presence. That would have been the easiest way to rid the world of the man. It might also provide the logical way to dispose of her and any evidence she carried to point toward the work of the Elite.

  Samantha resisted the urge to rub her ear. So why hadn’t they done it? What were they waiting for? Why require her to sacrifice her body on the altar of man all these months? Was it possible that Debrille had lied about that particular function of the ear chip? No, that didn’t make sense because he had to have a way to keep her actions in check – keep his subjects from escaping his grasp. Could she perhaps detonate it and solve two problems at the same time? The next question
surprised her. Did she even want to?

  Ruminations ceased as Warner and his entourage swept inside from their walk around the grounds. He had an uncanny way of almost ignoring her while at the same time acknowledging her presence among the crowd. The cabinet members flocked to Warner, and the group adjourned to the conference room. Samantha caught the attention of the assistant.

  “Could you please show me to the ladies room?”

  He smiled. “Follow me, madam.”

  ***

  Moonlight streamed through the slit in the curtains. Samantha lay in Warner’s arms and listened to him draw breath, a slight rattle deep in his chest. She could do it now—get the job over with—but then how would she get away? They’d discover Warner dead before she had any chance of leaving. Debrille probably didn’t have access to get her out from the Camp David compound, a fact that gave her an odd measure of comfort.

  A strange voice whispered in her mind. Once the job is done you have no value to the Elite.

  Chills chased up and down her spine. She pried herself from Warner’s grasp, careful not to wake him, wrapped herself in a blanket and stared through the slit into the wilderness beyond the pane. Secret Service agents probably stared back at her; she couldn’t see them but knew they were there somewhere in the shadows of the trees.

  The unbidden thought tumbled around her mind as if caught in a clothes dryer. Once the job is done…once the job is done. She hadn’t done much thinking beyond getting to the final page of this chapter with Warner. Hell, she hadn’t done much thinking beyond Alexandra in so long she’d almost lost her grasp on reality. But being Samantha was too hard. It at first felt warm, like running into an old friend, then painful as the memories surfaced of what had transpired to separate them in the first place. What did life hold beyond this chapter?

  “The bed is getting cold, my dear.”

  Warner’s groggy voice broke through her thoughts. She struggled to put back on the Alexandra mantle – and failed. What did it matter anymore? Samantha remained at the window.

  Warner continued. “Is something troubling you?”

  Though the water was already at a breaking point, Samantha treaded in with both feet. “Why did you marry Abbie?”

  She could feel rather than see Warner’s questioning countenance. They were in very dangerous territory, territory upon which they’d never dared.

  Moonlight fell softly across his face as Samantha turned to watch him. Had he looked at her mother that way? Had he touched her the way he touched Alexandra?

  She continued, “It’s obvious you don’t love each other.”

  A smile played on Warner’s lips as he rolled to his side and propped up his head. “This is an unusual line of discussion coming from you, Alexandra. Are you feeling a bit romantic and nostalgic tonight?”

  The playful attitude set Samantha’s blood boiling. “Have you never really loved a woman?”

  “Are you feeling alright?” Concern played across Warner’s face. “Why don’t you come sit with me here on the bed? Your face is swathed in shadows over there.”

  Get yourself under control, girlie.

  Samantha gritted her teeth, her body shook, but she couldn’t draw back from the precipice now. “Love – have you ever felt that for someone or do you just use them for what you can get?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  Warner pondered her question. Would he get angry? Would he toss her out on her ass like he’d done her mother? Or would he actually answer?

  Finally he opened his mouth to speak. “There was one woman.” Pain drooped his shoulders. “But we met too late.”

  The open revelation softened Samantha’s response. The bed gave as she sat on the edge. “What happened?”

  The question shook her. She should’ve never asked it. The answer Debrille had already given her about her own mother – she’d also read something about it in her letter so long ago. Could she handle hearing his confession? Would it change what he did to her mother? To her?

  With a shrug, Warner continued. “I was married – she was married. My political career had already escalated. It would’ve been suicide to have attempted to start over then.”

  Disgust knotted her stomach. “Your career over her?”

  “A decision that has haunted me my entire life.”

  “Why?”

  The bed jiggled as Warner squirmed with discomfort. He finally sat up and looked her square in the face. His words caused Samantha’s heart to skip a beat.

  “Because I never knew our daughter.”

  Chapter 45 – A Confession

  “So why did you and Abbie never have children?”

  Samantha linked her arm through Warner’s and walked beside him along the mountain path. The overcast sky threatened rain and cast a chill pallor over the morning that matched the chill in her gut. She’d never intended to pick up the shocking vein of conversation from the night before, but once the floodgates were breached Warner seemed to desire the opportunity to bare his soul – needed to even, as if he were giving a deathbed confession.

  Warner answered, “She never wanted them, couldn’t have them – take your pick. Abbie’s a few years older than I am. Hell, after the second year it was never really a possibility anyway.”

  “What happened after the second year?”

  Warner laughed bitterly. “It would’ve had to occur by immaculate conception then.”

  “She rebuffed you after only two years?”

  “From then on.” He tossed a wry smile her way. “A man like me cannot function for long without release.”

  If she’d have felt up to it, Samantha would have flashed him a spectacular Alexandra smile. He looked as if he almost expected it. But try as she might, she couldn’t muster the heart behind the effort.

  “So why did you marry if you didn’t love her?” Samantha asked.

  “At one time she was a striking woman. She came from good family, had good connections. That sounds trite, I know, but my focus has always been toward the White House, and she was just as ambitious. We clicked well together in the early years – looked good together. I had her father’s blessing. It all just naturally progressed us toward the altar.”

  “I’ll bet she wasn’t too keen on moving to Kansas.”

  “That took some convincing,” Warner laughed, “but in the end she saw my logic. Middle America produces some of the finest presidents.”

  Samantha forced a chuckle, but her mind already drifted in another direction. “So what was different about…?”

  How could she ask a question that involved her own mother and pretend she knew nothing? His professed love for her mother and the letter she’d read years ago speaking of the rape didn’t mesh. Could it possibly have been a different woman and daughter? It seemed quite plausible, considering the number of dalliances he’d had throughout his years.

  Warner completed her question. “The woman I fell in love with?”

  Samantha only nodded.

  The trees drew Warner’s gaze as they walked along in silence. A muscle in his cheek twitched. The silence followed them until Warner spoke again.

  “Her eyes – they were dark yet full of light, her hair a chestnut brown. There seemed an almost reserved sadness about her, as if she had a deep understanding of grief.”

  He breathed deeply as if remembering her scent. But his next words only solidified what deep down Samantha already suspected.

  “She worked for one of my campaigns in Kansas. That was for governor because…well, that’s when we conducted the bus tour.”

  The stomach churning almost came to a full boil. Samantha gripped Warner’s arm tighter to stem the shudder that passed through her body. There could be no doubt now. Even though she’d hoped for someone else, she knew he was speaking of her mother – and her. She didn’t dare trust her voice.

  Warner continued, “She was a good listener. You rather have that in common with her.”

  The strangest sensatio
n passed through Samantha’s heart and lodged there. His statement, so simple and so heartfelt bore up an emotion she’d rarely experienced for anyone else. Pity – pity at living a life without love. Pity at living a life with little of any real value to show for it. Pity at being stripped of an opportunity for a family.

  Pity at knowing her, but never as a daughter.

  What she’d done with him as Alexandra fell away into the abyss of darkness. There was more to this story than what he’d told her – what Debrille had told her. What untold truths remained?

  A knot formed in her throat and nearly choked off her next question. “What happened to the other woman and your…daughter?”

  The pallor of the day swept over his face and deepened the shadows under his eyes. “They died.”

  Chapter 46 – A New Truth

  The three days at Camp David ground to a halt, and all too soon Samantha descended the shaft into the hell-hole again. It was all Samantha could do to get through the debriefing with Debrille. All the while Marcus alternately scrutinized her face then glanced away, an odd gleam in his eyes. Could he read the questions on her face? For once she was glad for the Alexandra persona. Seemed easier to play that part now below ground to protect the growing doubts.

  After escaping Debrille’s grasp, Samantha quickly changed into workout gear and headed for the underground park. She had to smile as she huffed around the pathway, remembering her frustration at being run near to death in the beginning. But now it offered a respite from prying eyes, helped to clear her head to get in a good run.

  After the fourth lap, Samantha pulled up at the waterfall pond and splashed her face with the cold water. The crash of tumbling water helped block out troubled thoughts as she closed her eyes. She jolted from the tranquil moment when an image of her mother flashed in her mind.