William woke his family and Chrissy Dupree at 5 a.m. so they could get an early start. Lindsay literally rode shotgun for the duration of their excursion. The shotgun was between her right leg and the door. They had no desire to be robbed or stuck in an ambush without the means to defend themselves. William continued to question his decision to keep Lindsay in the dark about the prisoners. Knowing his wife, she would’ve just become nervous and scared the kids with frantic questions if he’d told her. Surely Lindsay would agree that he’d made the right decision…eventually.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Maxwell Harris woke up in a strange place. At first he thought he was in the infirmary of the cruise ship, but then he looked out the window. After piecing together several hazy memories, he remembered being on the bridge of the Freedom of the Seas with Richard and Captain Konkoly. After that…well here he was.
“Welcome back, sweetie! How do you feel?” Elizabeth planted a tender kiss on his forehead.
“I’ve been better. My back feels like it was hit with a sledgehammer, and my right hip hurts worse than that. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You’re the one in the hospital and you ask how I’m doing? You’re a sweetheart. Now that you’re awake, I couldn’t be better.”
“Richard?”
“He’s fine; he broke his foot when he hit the water.”
“What happened? Was it really the Chinese who attacked us?”
“Looks that way. They sank all three ships. A lot of people are dead.”
“Captain Konkoly?”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“Such a shame. I liked that guy. Where are we?”
“San Francisco. You smashed your L2 vertebra when you hit the wall. They replaced it with an implant.”
“I’d always heard donating bone marrow was painful, but I had no idea. Are we safe from the Chinese?”
“For now. They’ve occupied the city and most of California. They aren’t engaging the civilian population as long as they don’t resist. They wiped out the UAE bases this side of the Rockies.”
“What about home?”
“Safe for now. Hal left a robot for us, but I told him to keep that thing in the parking lot. It scares the shit out of everybody inside. He’s been giving me updates. Howard and Hal managed to erect the EMP shield around the PSA just in time to repel the Chinese. They have some do-hickey that swats down artillery fire around the major cities. Seems like the Chinese are leaving us alone for now while they swallow up the UAE.”
“Where’s Richard?”
“He’s at the Castle planning our next move.”
“What is our next move?”
“Beats me.”
Max tried to sit up but quickly decided against it. “Jesus, this hurts, and I’m an old pro when it comes to pain.”
“What about your left leg?”
“You know, now that you mention it, I don’t have any pain in my leg. Pain killers don’t do shit for bone marrow extraction, but the rest of me feels pretty damn good.”
“Can you move your left leg?’
Max looked confused. He wiggled his toes but looked confused when he couldn’t raise his knee more than a few inches off the bed. “What the hell is going on?”
“The doctor said you have nerve damage from the smashed vertebra. Once the implant starts to work, you should gain more control.”
“What’s this implant thing do?”
“It takes a few months, but the bone graft and marrow will stimulate growth, and you’ll have a brand new vertebra.”
“That’s incredible. What about the surgery Hal wants to do to replace the bones in my leg and repair the muscles with nanobots?”
“He said we won’t know until the vertebra finishes growing and we’re certain the nerve damage isn’t perm…”
Elizabeth was interrupted as screams filled the hallway, muffling the metallic clank of mechanical steps. The door swung open as the Hal robot made its entrance, wide-eyed, shrieking nurses plastered on the corridor wall behind him. “Hal, I told you to stay out…”
“Sir, ma’am, we need to leave now. The Chinese are aware that a high-ranking member of the PSA is still in the city. I have received intelligence that they are searching local hospitals for Director Harris. I have dispatched a stealth jet from Beck Castle, but it will not be here for forty-seven minutes.”
“We can’t move Max! He just got out of surgery!”
“Ma’am, we have no choice. We have to leave the hospital now and find a safe place to hide until the stealth jet arrives.”
Elizabeth walked over to the window. “Shit! We’ve got trouble! A convoy just pulled into the parking lot!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Fine little cellar you have here, Howard.”
“Shut up, Jackson.”
“Really, I’m impressed. Not as nice as the house I took from you. Where are we exactly?”
“Underground.”
“Yes, Howard, I know that. Thank you. I was wondering where we are on the map.”
Howard glared at Jackson Butler through the three-inch-thick Plexiglas wall. The smug bastard was in a jail cell, but he still acted as if he could order room service if he so desired. His cellmate, Simon Sterling, looked utterly terrified and had remained mute since his arrival.
“Come on, Howard! You won! We’re not going anywhere, so what’s the harm in telling us?”
Howard played along. “Guess.”
“How fun. My presumption has always been Wyoming or Montana. You do tend to seclude yourself from the real world. How these short-sided half-wits elected a mentally disabled fool like you president of anything is just beyond me.”
“Shut up, Jackson. It’s over; what’s left of the UAE is sitting in this cell. Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen. I have more important things to do than chat with you—like defend my territory from the Chinese. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, since Jackson here has been secretly communicating with the Chinese for at least six months. Oh, and one more thing. I’m betting Simon didn’t know you were responsible for the attack at the funeral, Jackson.”
Jackson rolled his eyes. “Please, Howard, I was there and almost died myself.”
“But somehow you survived! Interesting….”
The look of despair and bone-crushing betrayal on Simon’s weary face warmed Howard’s heart. Simon thought of Jackson as his son. While this blatant duplicity was heartbreaking, the hurt was quickly replaced by blinding rage. Jackson never saw the punch coming. Howard headed for the command center to watch the impending fight from his front-row seat.
“Oh Jackson, my boy, what have you done? You’ve betrayed me, you stupid fool! You’re a traitor to your country.”
Jackson laughed. “What? You murdered a sitting president and you call me a traitor?”
“How dare you! I did no such thing!”
“Oh please, Simon, don’t worry about the confession. Howard already knows; we all know.”
“You have the nerve to address me by my first name? Have you no shame? You will address me as Mr. President.”
“You’re a fucking disgrace. President of what? The UAE is dead and stinking.”
“What have you done? Did you do something to provoke the Chinese? Howard can’t be right; the Chinese tried to kill us. You couldn’t have helped them.”
“You really are an idiot. The bomb was my plan, my idea. I wanted everyone out of the way so it would just be me and you. I played the part of hero quite well, saving your life and all. With the governors out of the picture and Moody unable to command the military, everything just fell into place. Well…until we got captured; that did take me by surprise.” Jackson lied easily about being captured; he was exactly where he wanted to be.
“You killed all those people? In a church? The leaders of the UAE are dead because of you! I’ve known Roberto Jimenez since you were in diapers, and you killed him! I can’t believe this! You’re a despicable monster!”
; “Oh shut the fuck up! The man in the coffin was there because of you!”
Simon could only shake his head in disbelief. He had murdered James Weygandt out of petty pride and anger; there was really nothing more to say.
“Simon, Iran is coming; you have to know that. They aren’t going to sit back and wait for us to rebuild before they invade. We can’t possibly hope to be ready for them on our own. You being the poster boy for isolationism didn’t give me much hope that you’d be open to talks with the Chinese.”
“Jackson, you’re a child. You’re a naive little boy. What can you possibly think will come of this ‘relationship’ with the Chinese?”
“They’re our allies, you stubborn old fool. They’re coming to help secure our borders from Iran. Call them the lesser of two evils.”
“So what happens now? Are you going to shank me to death in this cell like we’re inmates in a penitentiary?”
“Why on earth would I do that? You aren’t worth the exercise. You’re nobody. You could make it easy on all of us and hang yourself with your shoelaces. Be happy to help.”
“Go to hell, you psychopath.”
Howard surprised both of them over the loudspeaker. “Gentlemen, while I’m really enjoying this—and trust me, not many things amuse me to the point of laughter— I have something you two might want to watch.”
The cell’s Plexiglas wall morphed into a monitor. For the next several minutes, they watched a montage of the carnage the Chinese brought along with them to the shores of the former United States. First, the attack of the Freedom of the Seas and her two sister ships played out from multiple vantage points as seen from Hal’s drones. Then, California’s devastated military bases filled the screen. Jackson was stunned. As he watched three minutes of drone footage of the Chinese murdering armed American citizens, he realized what a grave mistake he’d made.”
The footage stopped, and Howard’s face filled the screen. “See what you’ve done, Jackson? They look like allies to you? They’re here to conquer us, not help us. I’m just glad I caught your stupid ass before you could do any more damage.”
Jackson was still processing what he’d just witnessed on the screen. All those meetings he had with Ambassador Zhang, the trusting relationship he thought he’d so brilliantly constructed…it was all a lie.
***
Christina Dupree spent a short time with the Sandersons in the first level of Beck Castle before being escorted to the screening room. While there, she noticed a stranger standing nearby, watching her intently as tears streamed down his face. It made her uncomfortable, and Chrissy was relieved when the screening was finally complete.
“Chrissy, you got taller.” Timmy hugged his sister and sat her down on his bed. The Sandersons had brought her to Richard’s quarters. He’d decided that Timmy should be the one to introduce them since Chrissy loved and trusted her brother.
“Timmy, how did you get here? Where’s Mom? Is she here, too? What about grandma and grandpa?”
“I don’t know what happened to Mom. We’ve been looking for her, but it’s just too hard to find people.
“Do you live in this big place by yourself or is this grandma and grandpa’s house?”
“Chrissy, just slow down a minute, I have to tell you something important. You remember that man you saw crying in the screening area?
“Yeah, what was up with that?”
“Chrissy, he’s our father.”
“Timmy, that’s not funny; he died when we were little. Whoever that guy is, he’s not our dad.”
Timmy took his sister’s hand. “Yes, he’s our dad. Believe me, Chrissy. Mom lied to us. Dad didn’t die; she just never allowed us to see him.”
Chrissy began to cry. “You’re sure it’s really him? Why didn’t he talk to me when I got here?”
“We decided that I should be the one to tell you, get you ready. Are you ready?”
“Of course.”
“Dad!”
As the door opened, Richard Dupree’s tears flowed anew. He hadn’t seen his daughter since that horrible Sunday morning so many years ago. “You’re so beautiful, my sweet baby.” Richard dropped to his knees, his quivering arms outstretched. Chrissy only hesitated for one brief moment before losing herself in his crushing embrace. “Dad? I thought you were dead. Are you really my dad? Are you really here?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I’m here, and I’m never going to leave you again.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Charles felt at home for the first time since he’d arrived in this wretched wasteland of a country. When Jackson Butler petitioned the Chinese for an assassin who could wreak a level of havoc similar to that caused by The Silent Warriors, Charles was at the top of the list.
Charles’ enormous wealth, accumulated over three decades of espionage, afforded him a very comfortable life. He wore the finest clothes and had lavish homes scattered across the globe. Unlike Simon Sterling, Charles didn’t find his identity in his clothing and riches. Charles once took an assignment that required him to live for three months as a homeless man in Berlin. It was hard for Charles to live in squalor and filth, but the assignment was an entertaining challenge that paid exceptionally well.
Charles approached the first checkpoint half a mile from Beck Estates and rolled down his window. He could tell by the soldier’s demeanor that he was accustomed to turning away ninety percent of the vehicles that approached the gate.
“I need to see some identification.”
Charles handed the man credentials carried only by top ranking officials in the Unified American Empire. Once the soldier scanned them and examined the readout, his focus and attention became razor sharp.
“Sir, welcome to Beck Estates. They’ll park your car for you at the next checkpoint; you’ll have unescorted access to the grounds.”
“Thank you, kind sir. Have a pleasant day.” Charles flashed his most charming smile, delighted when the young soldier appeared terrified by it.
Charles drove his vehicle to the next checkpoint and got out, marveling at the masterpiece before him. Howard Beck had built the most elaborate, luxurious home on the North American continent. Photographs and videos didn’t do the place justice; seeing it in person was truly breathtaking. Charles brushed the lint from his jacket, straightened his tie, and walked into the estate to begin the final phase of the plan.
***
“I can’t for the life of me understand how you can be so calm.” Being cooped up in a jail cell with the man who’d betrayed him and his country was driving Simon Sterling over the edge.
“You might think a great many things about me, Simon, but one thing I am not is unprepared.” Jackson leaned closer and whispered, “I’m right where I want to be. I planned this.”
“You’re positively insane. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“Again, takes one to know one. You’re the textbook sociopath. Books will be written about your failed tyranny.”
“Fuck you, Jackson.”
“Oh my! Such language, Simon. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you utter such filth.”
“You’re more than worth it.”
“You remind me of a colleague of mine. I think the two of you would get along famously. He actually dresses better than you.”
“I really don’t care. I’d rather you just stop talking. You know our conversation is pure entertainment for Howard.” Simon looked up. “Isn’t that right, Howard?”
The door to the holding area opened and the man in charge of security walked in. He typed a code into the keypad and was about to open the cell door when one of the two security guards stopped him. “Mr. Twigg? Uh, sir? I thought you said either the president or General Dupree had to be here to open the door?”
“I’m sorry, I thought I was the acting director of security…or is it you?”
“Yes, sir. I just don’t think it’s a very good idea.”
“Tell you what, big guy. You want something to do? Head to the infirmary and bri
ng back an EMT; one of these pussies needs medical attention.”
“They didn’t say anything to me! I swear they’re both fine. I haven’t taken my eyes off them. ”
Dennis Twigg locked eyes with Jackson Butler, the intensity of his gaze encouraging the prisoner to play along. Jackson had been expecting something like this to happen; he knew someone would be coming to retrieve the tiny, embedded hard drive that housed the massive program needed to take Hal offline.
“You sick fucker! I had friends on the Freedom of the Seas! They’re all dead because of you!”
“Hey, buddy! Just slow down. You don’t want...”
Dennis flicked open a collapsible foot-long baton. He dropped Jackson to the floor with one swing to the gut. The hit wasn’t hard, but both men gave an award-winning performance. Once Jackson was on the floor, Dennis knelt over him and punched him in the face. “You motherfucker! I should kill you!” Dennis pulled out a switchblade and mouthed the question, “Where?”
Jackson whispered. “Scar on left side of my chest.”
Dennis threw a few fake punches to Jackson’s torso as Simon stood nearby, frozen in fear. Using the switchblade as a scalpel, Dennis deftly sliced into the scar. He dug in with two fingers, retrieving the small device with just seconds to spare as a medical team entered the cell.
Howard, who’d been asleep in his quarters, was alerted to the situation by Hal. He entered the detention area in a tizzy. “Mr. Twigg! What in the holy hell are you doing? Stop that! Now!” Howard was not a fan of physical contact, even in the friendliest of forms, and subduing an attacker was unthinkable. “Stop him! Right now!” Howard yelled at the other guard.
Dennis Twigg stood up. “Don’t bother. I’m done, Mr. Beck. I’m sorry, but this piece of shit needed to know his place.”
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