THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  “How do you know it was a rental?”

  “Had one of those company license plates on the front. Avis, or Enterprise…couldn’t make it out. Too dark. But that car was sitting there when I went up to fix a light fixture in 229 earlier. And then, when I went to go fix that heat unit, it was still there. That job took me about twenty minutes. When I left the car was still there, but the driver wasn’t.”

  “What kind of car?”

  “Typical rental. Silver, base-model sedan.”

  “Did you see who was in it?”

  “Not then. I went back to my office to put my stuff away. Then I got a craving for a candy bar. So I went back out to the vending machine—which sits back in that little cove by the front office. That’s the only thing bad about a motel versus a hotel. Everything’s outside. I had just taken my shoes off and gotten comfortable when it hit me that I wanted that candy bar—”

  “Mr. Vargas, please…”

  Vargas smiled at her. “Sorry. Rambling again…Anyway, I went to the machine. And wouldn’t you know it, the thing ate my money. Now, those things are managed by a third party, so I can’t get in to them. But I really wanted that candy bar, so I decided to go over to the Quick Mart.”

  Megan was beginning to think she and Eli were wasting their time. “Mr. Vargas, I’m not sure I understand how any of this is important to Peterson.”

  Vargas held up a finger. “I’m getting to that.” He took another drink from his cup. “Now, if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years from hanging out with you spooks, it’s to be suspicious of random cars that stake out motel rooms and then just leave. So, after the car was out of sight, I walked down that side of the rooms and just looked around.”

  Megan was sitting up in her chair again. “And?”

  “And that’s when I saw the door to 119 cracked open. So I knocked. No one answered, so I knocked a little harder this time. When I did, the door pushed open a little more. And that’s when I saw it—Peterson, I mean.”

  Eli tilted his head and scrunched his brow. “But when we got there this morning, the door was shut.”

  Vargas drew in his mouth. “Yeah…I might’ve closed the door behind me when I left.” Then, hurriedly, “But only to make sure that no one else would go in! Then I went back to my office to call Jennings. But I couldn’t get ahold of him until right before I left to come home.”

  Megan thought about everything Vargas had said—which was pretty much a whole lot of nothing. She would have to call Jennings and tell him that Vargas was a bust. She nodded to Eli, who took her cue and stood with her. “Thanks for all your help, Mr. Vargas.”

  Vargas stood with them and led them back to the door. “Listen, I know it’s not much, but you guys need to check out that car. Whoever that lady was, she’s the one who killed Peterson.”

  Megan stopped dead in her tracks. She slowly turned back to Vargas. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?”

  Vargas’s eyes went wide and he slapped himself in the forehead. “Oh, yeah! The lady. I almost forgot.”

  “What lady?” Megan said.

  “The lady from the car.”

  “You said you couldn’t see who was in the car,” Eli said.

  Vargas nodded. “I couldn’t. Earlier. But when I went to get my candy bar—as I was leaving the Quick Mart—I saw a woman getting into that car. A woman. Which is crazy, right? Because, I mean, how many women assassins can there be? Right?”

  There were a million thoughts going through Megan’s mind right then. Everything from a prostitute to a bad dope deal. But Peterson was seventy-six years old. She doubted either of those would prove right. Suddenly she had a sickening feeling in her stomach, as Vargas’s words hit home. How many women assassins can there be? “Mr. Vargas, what did she look like?”

  Vargas smiled. “Well, I only saw her for a couple seconds, when she turned around to get in the car. But there’s no way I’d forget that face. She was beautiful.” His eyes trailed off, as if he were savoring the memory.

  “Mr. Vargas, please!” Megan said.

  “Oh, right. Yeah. She was tall and thin. She was wearing a long coat. She had very strong features. I’d say probably Eastern European….”

  Megan could feel her chest constricting. No way…it can’t be. Absolutely impossible…

  “…She had longish, blond hair….”

  Megan cut him off. “Her eyes. Did you see her eyes?”

  Vargas nodded quickly. “Yeah. Right before she got in the car, as I was walking past her, she stopped and looked right at me. We were right under the streetlamp. I saw them. They were deep blue. Like ice.”

  Megan felt a chill run down her spine. Her head began to spin and her mouth went dry. She caught Eli out of the corner of her eye.

  “Megan, you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  Megan shook her head. “No, I’m not okay. And I didn’t see a ghost.” She pointed at Vargas. “But I think he did.” She dialed the sat-phone and waited for Jennings to pick up.

  “This is Taylor. I think we have a serious problem.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Washington, DC

  The first thing Jennings did when Boz and Keene returned was send them to Bethesda for a complete medical evaluation. It only took looking at the two of them to see that they had been lucky to get out of Chinese territory alive. He was immediately glad that he had sent Ramirez and his team to wait for them at the border. He’d known that decision was going to come with some blowback. And right now, he was dealing with it. President Walker had stormed into his office the moment he’d heard.

  “I can’t believe you would do something this stupid, Kevin!” Walker yelled. “You know how sensitive our situation is right now. We have half this country wanting us to go back to war with the Chinese already. You just threw a truckload of fuel on that fire….”

  Jennings let him rant. There wasn’t much more he could do. It was stupid. If he were Walker, he’d probably fire himself. Effective immediately. But he had to do it nonetheless. And Walker was going to have to accept that.

  “…and what’s more…Chin has already threatened retaliation! How am I supposed to lead this country back from the brink of destruction if every time I turn around you’re off playing cowboy? I thought we were on the same page.”

  Jennings just looked at him.

  “Say something! Anything!”

  Jennings sat up in his chair. “Mr. President, I understand the risk I took. And I understand what’s at stake here. But you need to know that under no circumstances was I about to let the two men responsible for saving what’s left of this country die on that border. I gave my men explicit orders. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary. They were only there to pick them up once they crossed. They had no choice. Keene blew up the entire checkpoint with a military truck and a fifty-caliber machine gun. And they were both injured in the escape. They would’ve been killed. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Walker’s face turned red again as he pointed at him. “It wasn’t your decision to make!”

  Jennings matched his tone. “You’re right! It wasn’t. I didn’t make that decision.”

  Walker looked at him confused.

  “The Prophet told me to make sure that Jon and Boz got home. I was following orders. Period!”

  That seemed to get Walker’s attention. “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

  Jennings drew in a long breath. He’d been dreading having this conversation, ever since the situation presented itself. But he’d known, sooner or later, he’d have to bring the president in. It was, after all, a matter of national security. Especially with the news he’d just gotten from Megan and Eli. “Mr. President, I believe we have bigger problems than the Chinese right now.”

  Walker hung his head. “What now?”

  “As I told you before, the Prophet contacted us, told us he had Jon, and that we needed to come get him. What I didn’t tell you—and not because I have any hidden agenda, but becaus
e I wanted to investigate a little to know exactly what we’re dealing with—is the Prophet has given us a new warning.”

  Walker’s face got red again. “And you didn’t tell me?”

  Jennings held up a hand to hold him off. “Like I said, I wanted to dig a little before I brought it to you. You have enough going on trying to get the country back to some sense of normalcy without having to worry about something we know nothing about yet.”

  Walker ran his hand over his face. “So what do you know?”

  “First of all, I know any threat you get from Chin is going to go away. He might blow a little hot air over all this, but that’s all it’s going to be. Hot air.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because, think about it. They have what they came for. They knew we wouldn’t launch an attack on American soil. And we didn’t. And we’ve agreed to not advance back on them and he knows we won’t. But if they push us—now that we’ve got our bearings, even as disjointed as they seem—it would be ugly for him. Getting Jon back is just one of those things that people like Chin and I—well, let’s just say Chin gets it.

  “Secondly, I know because the Prophet said Chin is not our problem. We’re our problem. Or, at least, some of us are the problem.”

  Walker stared blankly at him. “I don’t understand.”

  Jennings spent the next ten minutes getting Walker up to speed with what information he had. He started with his initial conversation with the Prophet and finished with the news about Peterson. When he finished, he folded his hands and waited for the president to respond. Walker, however, just sat there with a grimace on his face. Finally, Jennings broke the tension. “Do you have any history with this Pemberton guy?”

  Walker looked at him as if he’d accused him of murder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jennings held up his hands. “Whoa, easy, Mr. President. That wasn’t an indictment. It was a question. Apparently this guy’s heavy into politics. I just thought…with your family’s rich political history, maybe you’ve crossed paths. Been to a dinner together. Something.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “See, and there’s my problem. Apparently, not too many people have. There’s no record of him ever being involved in anything. But if you ask the right people—and trust me, Peterson knew the right people—they’ll tell you that Pemberton is a heavyweight.”

  “How’s that possible?”

  “You tell me. I’ve come across some people before that have some gaps in their records. But I’m the director of the CIA. If I want them found, they get found. Not this guy. This Pemberton guy’s squeaky clean. He doesn’t even have a file.”

  “How is that possible?” Walker asked again.

  “It’s not,” Jennings quipped. “That’s my point. This guy has gone to incredible lengths to see to it his name isn’t attached to anything other than the family tobacco company.”

  Walker gave a dismissive flick of his hand. “Maybe he’s not involved.”

  Jennings narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “Then why do I have a dead former agent in Raleigh who was perfectly alive before he started asking about Pemberton?”

  “Good point.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what exactly is this Pemberton fella supposed to be doing?”

  “I’ll let you know, soon as I know. In the meantime, you need to continue to try and bring the nation together. There’s still a lot of divided opinions of what we should be doing. It’s imperative that you persuade the people that Quinn—the Prophet—isn’t some quack. That God did, indeed, bring this upon us, and we need to accept what we’ve been given moving forward.”

  “I’m doing my best, Kevin.”

  “I know you are, sir. Just keep up what you’re doing. Leave the spy work to me and my people. Soon as I know what’s going on, I’ll let you know.”

  Walker stood to leave.

  “There’s one other thing.” Jennings stood with the president. “President Grant woke up.”

  Walker stared blankly at him for a moment. Then, “So what do we do? I mean, does he know everything that’s happened? Does he remember anything? Is he all right?”

  Jennings shook his head. “I don’t know any more than he woke up. I’m going to go find out more this afternoon. I thought I’d go pick Jon and Boz up myself and check in on what’s happening.”

  Walker began to pace back and forth. “You let me know the moment you find out. I mean, this changes everything. If he’s all right…I mean…technically, he’s still the president. I’ll need to turn everything back over to him.”

  Jennings gave an assuring nod. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We don’t know what’s going on with him just yet. You’ve done a good job leading this country. The people are looking to you right now. You’re their president.”

  “If President Grant is awake, the American people need to know.”

  Jennings narrowed his eyes. “We have no idea how President Grant is right now. The doctors say they need to run tests. They’ll probably be doing that for the better part of a week. We have no way of knowing whether or not he’s even capable of resuming office any time soon. What the American people need is a president with his faculties fully functioning. If even a hint of President Grant’s status gets out, there could be more chaos than we can deal with right now. I have given explicit instructions to everyone even remotely associated with President Grant’s situation to lock it down. I suggest you do the same.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please trust me. We don’t need that kind of attention right now. You’re the president. Let’s just move forward.”

  Walker seemed to weigh all of what Jennings had just said. Finally, he nodded. “You’re right. We’ll keep this under the radar. For now.”

  Jennings relaxed a bit. “Mr. President, you’re fully capable of doing this job. You’re a good man. And the people need that right now. So go do what you need to do.”

  Walker nodded. “Thank you, Kevin. I appreciate your encouragement.” He turned to leave but stopped short. “I had planned to give a radio address tomorrow. Just to reassure the people that we are headed in the right direction. I’ve been thinking about making a proposal to Congress to amend the Constitution. I want to include language that defines this country as a nation centered on Christian principles. And I’m going to suggest we begin making quite a few policy changes. Starting with this upcoming Christmas season. After our conversation here, I think I’m going to propose it during that address. You know, put it out there to the people. I think it’s about time we drew some lines in the sand.”

  Jennings smiled. “Well, I’m certainly not the Prophet, but if I had to guess, I’d say that’s exactly what God would want you to do.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Raleigh, North Carolina

  Pemberton had been ignoring the phone all morning. It had rung, it seemed, at least fifty times in the last four hours. But he didn’t care. He knew it was either Hayes or the governor. And he didn’t need to talk to either of them right now. Right now, he was in strategic planning mode.

  He had it all laid out on several pieces of paper, strewn about the table in front of him: who was supposed to do what and when. As long as everyone did what they were supposed to do, Walker and the rest of those idiots in Washington should either be out of the way—or better yet, dead—by the end of next week.

  He looked it all over once more. Ran it all through his head again. Try as he did, he couldn’t find a hole anywhere in the whole thing. Satisfied, he reached inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a Louixs. He clipped the end, stuck it in his mouth, and rolled it around his tongue a couple of times. Then he lit the tip and took three long drags, to stoke the ember. Once the cigar was burning successfully, he pushed back from his chair and stood up. He grabbed the old phone off the side table in the hall and stretched it outside onto the porch. The wind was picking up again, so he had to pull his collar up. He hated the thought of the cold finally settlin
g in. He’d hoped to make it to Christmas with this sixty-degree weather. He picked up the receiver and punched the numbers in. Hayes answered on the first ring.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get you for over five hours.”

  Pemberton spit a piece of loose tobacco over the rail. “Busy.”

  “Busy! Do you have any idea what happened to me last night?”

  Pemberton rolled his eyes. “No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”

  “I got home from dinner and two federal agents were in my house. In my private study!”

  Hayes had his attention now. He sat up in the chair and gripped the phone tighter. “Who were they and what did they want? And how the heck did they get in your house? What kind of place you running over there, Milton?”

  “They bypassed my security.”

  “No kidding.”

  Hayes ignored the jab. “They wanted to know about you.”

  Something akin to an acidic taste filled his mouth. He’d spent his whole life staying away from the feds. He’d spent a lot of money and had to quiet a lot of mouths over his business dealings. This did not sit well with him. At all. “What about me?”

  “They wanted to know if I knew you. Asked me if you and I have had any business dealings.” Then, “Gavin, I think we’ve got problems.”

  Pemberton agreed. But he wasn’t about to show any sort of weakness. Especially to Hayes. Hayes was already wishy-washy enough. He didn’t need the man going into full-on panic mode. “And of course, you told them that you and I are old buddies.”

  “I did no such thing!”

  Pemberton imagined Hayes hyperventilating on the other end. “Calm down. I’m just jerking your chain.” He let a couple of seconds of quiet pass by. Then, “Listen, Milton, we’ve talked with a lot of people over the last few months about this. Can’t be done without people getting involved. Not everyone is as tight to the vest as you and I are.” He said that knowing full well that Hayes could be as loose lipped as a drunken sailor at times. But he needed to reassure his partner that everything was fine. At least for now.