Lady Liberty

by Vicki Hinze

  “Don’t bother, honey” He stroked her hair, her cheek. “You can’t say anything I haven’t already thought a thousand times.”

  “But it’s not simple between us.” Her face mirrored her confusion, layers of fear and longing and doubt and desire and hope.

  “It never has been.” He smiled to soften the blow. “But none of it matters. Trust me on this one. I’ve been at this a lot longer than you.”

  He loved her. Not the veep, not the image, but her. “You don’t look a damn bit worried about walking in my shadow.”

  “What’s to fear? I’ve walked in your shadow for years.”

  The truth hit her like a sledgehammer. He never had been worried about endangering his own life on her detail. He’d transferred because he loved her and he was afraid that endangered her. “It doesn’t matter what we think or say or what we had planned, does it? This … thing between us. It’s just there.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “love.” He hadn’t and, coward or worse, neither could she.

  “It’s there.”

  She stared at him a long moment and a furrow formed between her brows. “How do you feel about it?”

  “I don’t like it worth a damn.”

  Never had more sincere words been spoken, or reciprocated. She smiled. “Me, either.”

  “But it isn’t going anywhere,” he said. “I know that for fact. Whether I’m with you or away from you, or I fit into your plans or not, or what I do and don’t want—none of it makes a damn bit of difference. For a while, thinking you’d be ashamed of me, that I wouldn’t fit in your world, knocked me off balance.”

  “What?” Shock widened her eyes. “But you’re a great fit.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Perfect.”

  “Good, because even that doesn’t matter.”

  “Nothing seems to, I have to agree.”

  “So it is that way for you, too.”

  She nodded, slipped her arms around his neck. “Yeah, it is.”

  He lifted his hands, let them slide along her waist to her back. “Since it’s going to hang around anyway, what you think about us riding along? Willingly, I mean?”

  “We don’t seem to have much choice, so we might as well.” She stood on her toes and kissed him again, letting her thoughts tumble joyfully into what her heart already knew. Planned or not, wanted or not, feared or not, a special bond connected them. A bond that ignored denials and pleas and fears, and plans and intentions and promises. A bond that wouldn’t fray or ravel or fade. A bond that would endure.

  The phone rang.

  Grumbling curses on the caller’s head, Sybil stepped out of his embrace and answered. Five more minutes, and they would have been making love. For a woman who had abstained for nearly two years and had only just discovered she was loved by the man she loved—even if neither of them had worked up the courage to utter the “L” word yet—this was not an easy-to-swallow interruption. “Stone.”

  “Commander Conlee here, ma’am.”

  “Yes, Commander.” Looking as disappointed as she felt, Jonathan gathered their cups and put them back on the tray. He still wore black sneakers. She hated seeing that but could hardly object to his silent prediction of trouble.

  “The president is on with us, ma’am,” Conlee said. “I wanted to let both of you know that our situation here has changed. Dr. Stone has forced our hand. He demanded we let him leave or arrest him, so we arrested him. We haven’t yet interrogated him or made any accusations, and he hasn’t said anything. We’re in a Mexican standoff, more or less, waiting for someone to break. Frankly, I don’t think it’s going to be he.”

  “It won’t,” Sybil predicted. Arresting Austin assured it. He had nothing left to lose. “He’d rather be dead than in jail. He’s accepted the inevitable.”

  “Sybil,” David cut in. “I know you’re not talking about death.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “He’s going to do it, David. He’s going to let the missile launch.”

  “Do you think Cap Marlowe might be able to influence him?” David asked.

  “No,” Sybil said. “Austin and Cap used each other. There’s no bond between them.”

  Jonathan stilled and Sybil knew from his posture that some piece of the puzzle had slid into place. “How are we coming on the DNA cross-checks, Commander?”

  “Still working on them, ma’am.” Conlee hesitated, then added, “This might sound a little out of left field, Mr. President, but your boy Barber made a special request that we run Senator Marlowe’s DNA. We asked for a basis but all Barber would say about it was that he considered it prudent.”

  “No insight on that, I’m afraid,” David said. “Sybil, what’s Peris and Abdan’s status?”

  “If the target cycles to them, they’re considering not launching a preemptive strike. No promises, except to negotiate with each other in good faith. We’ll hear back from them before midnight.” Barber had to be Austin’s in-house connection. This was one coincidence too many, forming a triad among him, Cap, and Austin. If at the end of the day, Barber could have gotten them out of this quagmire and hadn’t done it, Sybil swore she would strangle him herself.

  “Stay in touch.” David hung up.

  “Anything else, Commander?”

  “When will you be on site, ma’am?”

  Jonathan looked at her, eagerly waiting for her to get off the phone. “How long before we’ll get to A-267?” she asked him.

  “Maybe an hour. We have to make a trip to St. Elizabeth’s first.”

  She cupped her hand over the mouthpiece. “St. Elizabeth’s?”

  He nodded. “I remember where I saw the messenger.”

  “An hour, Commander.” She hung up the phone, then asked Jonathan, “What messenger?”

  “The one in Cap’s office. When we were leaving, Jean was signing for a package from Ground Serve. When we were going over the film on Faust, I saw this guy in a photo who looked familiar but I couldn’t place him. Now I have.”

  “He was the messenger.” Sybil assimilated that. “A direct link between Faust and Cap.”

  “It appears so.”

  “Let’s go.” Sybil shoved on her sneakers, cringed against the tenderness and the pain, and snagged her purse off a chair. “Senator Marlowe has some explaining to do.”

  “To hell with explanations. They can wait,” Jonathan said. “Let’s hope he’s got the key to the inner hub.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Saturday, August 10 First-Strike Launch: 02:15:02

  “I think we’ll get farther if I go in alone.”

  Jonathan checked Cap’s room, took the at-ease stance outside the door, and then gave Sybil a go-ahead nod. Sybil walked in. Cap was sitting up in his hospital bed, his glasses resting on the end of his nose.

  “Sybil.” He turned down the volume on the television. A baseball game was in-progress.

  “Hello, Cap. You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

  His cheeks and neck flushed. “Did I thank you for getting me out of there?”

  “Yes.” She lifted her chin. “You lived.”

  “Is this a social visit?”

  “No.” She stepped over to his bedside. “I know you received a package from an associate of Gregor Faust’s.” He opened his mouth to deny it, but she held up a staying hand. “Don’t lie to me, Cap. We’re in critical trouble, and I’m not here to debate. In two hours a lot of people are going to die.”

  No response.

  “Cap.” She sat down on the side of his bed. “If we get lucky and find a way to survive this, very soon you’re going to run for President of the United States. You’re going to meet Americans face to face and tell them how you’re going to make their lives better. You’re going to ask them to support you, and when you win their confidence and that election, you’re going to take an oath to serve and protect them. Don’t you think they should be alive and above-ground, not buried below it to hear all t
his?”

  “I don’t trust you, Sybil.” He dipped his chin, glared at her. “I wish I did, but I don’t. Hell, I don’t even trust myself anymore.”

  “If you let these people die …”

  “I didn’t start this, and I can’t stop it. I would if I could, but I can’t.” The truth burned in his eyes. “Regardless of what you think of me, I do love this country. I’m not perfect, but I have tried to serve it well. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

  “I understand.” Wishing she didn’t, Sybil stood up and opened a virtual door that allowed him to save face. “And I know you’re the most connected man on the Hill. I need your help, Cap. If you can find out anything about this— anything at all—now is the time.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thank you.” She turned and walked to the door.

  “Sybil?”

  She paused and looked back at him.

  “That day we, um, talked about Austin. You didn’t know until I told you, did you?”

  The vasectomy. Even now he demanded his pound of flesh. “No, Cap, I didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry.” A thick furrow formed between his brows and sincere regret filled his eyes. “I believed… Then I wasn’t sure …” He sighed and stopped himself. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” she said, forcing herself to hold his gaze. “I knew when you didn’t release the report to the media.”

  “You didn’t know about the blind-trust violations, either.”

  A statement, not a question. Still, she gave him a head shake.

  He looked as if he wanted to say more about both but couldn’t make himself do it. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  “I appreciate it.” Sybil walked out of the hospital room.

  Jonathan fell into step beside her. When they got on the elevator and the door closed, he asked, “Anything?”

  “He denied knowing anything.”

  “I sense a but in that.” He pushed the button for the first floor.

  “But he knows plenty,” she said. “I gave him a graceful way out—to find out what he can from his connections. Now we just have to wait to see if he has the courage to take it.”

  “What does your intuition say?”

  Jonathan trusted her instincts, her woman’s intuition. Loving him for that, too, Sybil clasped his arm and leaned against him, appreciating his solid warmth at her side. “I think he somehow got snared into a part of this, and he couldn’t find a way out. I also think he’s a better man than I believed him to be. But I honestly don’t know what'll he do. I wish I did.”

  “Ground Serve was delivering something to his office, Sybil. We only need the DNA and the key. His part—and he did have a part or he wouldn’t have pulled that no-notice inspection—had to be in it.”

  The elevator jarred to a halt. The bell rang then the door slid open. Sybil stepped out. “The answer is there.”

  “Where?”

  “In those deliveries.” Leaving the hospital, she looked up at the night sky. So many stars. Pretty. “It has to be in those deliveries.”

  Midway through the parking lot, she suddenly stopped and clutched at Jonathan’s sleeve. “Do we have security cameras inside the inner hub?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can we access them from outside it?”

  “Of course.” Understanding dawned in his eyes.

  Sybil nodded. “We can see what he did there that day”

  “The tapes have been reviewed, Sybil.” Jonathan ran a security sweep on the car, then opened the door for Sybil to get inside. “There was nothing on them.”

  He walked around, settled in behind the wheel, and then cranked the engine.

  “What if the ‘nothing on them’ was like the nothing on the Intel tapes we reviewed?” Sybil kicked the air-conditioning up a notch. “The one where we found the photo of Faust?”

  “Good point, ma’am. We’re on our way”

  First-Strike Launch: 01:45:00

  Austin Stone sat in Commander Conlee’s office. A mural of eagles in flight covered the far wall, giving the illusion of open space and blue sky. Misleading but welcome when stuck underground and robbed of fresh air, natural light, and any sounds of nature.

  Conlee sat behind his desk, his frustration with Austin apparent in his voice’s sharp edge. “You called this meeting, Stone. Start talking.”

  A green bar lamp on the desk spilled amber light over the chair’s leather arms, giving them a rich brown patina Austin appreciated even now. “I’m in a gregarious mood, so I’m willing to negotiate.”

  Conlee crossed his arms over his chest. “Can you stop the launch?”

  “Yes, I can. Your experts were good, but the delay on implementing the loop and disconnecting me from the network gave me all the time I needed to alter my previous programs. Your original key will open the inner hub.”

  “What about the DNA?”

  “That and the launch key, you don’t have.”

  Originally Austin had configured the secure system to the inner hub using Gregor Faust’s DNA. Poetic justice. Yet after Gregor had double-crossed him, Austin had been left with no choice but to incorporate a cover for himself in Plan B, so he had changed DNA codes. He’d also found changes at A-267. Worrisome changes, because they meant Faust had an in at A-267 aside from the one Austin had provided. The Ballast contact had proven to be Austin’s contact, Captain Mendoza, which of course made killing him necessary.

  “What do you want?” Conlee pushed.

  Resenting the handcuffs circling his wrists, Austin slid him a reproving glare. “A face-to-face meeting with Sybil and the media. Sam Sayelle from the Herald and one representative from the major networks, Fox News, CNN, and MSNBC.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “That will be disclosed in the meeting.”

  “You’re not giving me much to take to the vice president.”

  “I’m giving you the only possible means of stopping the Peacekeeper from launching. I’d say I’m offering you a lot, Commander. She will agree with me.”

  “I’ll take the matter under consideration.”

  Austin stood up. “Remember, Conlee. I’m not a patient man.”

  “Guard!” Conlee shouted a summons.

  The door opened before he’d finished calling. Two armed guards escorted Stone out, then back to detention.

  Conlee hated that sorry-ass scum sucker. Just talking to the man made him feel as if he needed a long, hot shower. Shaking off the feeling, he put in a conference call to the president and Lady Liberty. When he had them on the line, he passed along Austin’s proposal.

  “Why does he want the media?” David asked.

  “He wants to cast a shadow I’ll have to walk in.”

  “Sybil, I know you’re in an impossible position on this,” David said. “So am I. I either risk the meeting and compromise you, or I refuse the meeting and watch the missile detonate.”

  “It’s a simple decision,” she said. “A-267’s security has already been compromised. We have nothing to lose by bringing in the media. I’m on my way, Commander.”

  “Sybil, you don’t have to—”

  “Yes, David, I do. This is our only chance. To live with myself, I can’t not do this.”

  “Ma’am,” the commander cut in. “I didn’t like the looks of him. He’s got something nasty in mind. I don’t know what, but I’d bet my retirement on it.”

  “You’d be right.” She paused, and then added, “He means to humiliate me.”

  What Austin didn’t understand and, Conlee suspected, never had was that Lady Liberty would gladly forfeit her pride to save lives. That made it difficult to relay what he must tell her next. “I’m afraid there’s more bad news. About three minutes ago we experienced a cycle shift. We have a new target.”

  Sybil didn’t have to wait to know where Austin had targeted. Deep down, she had known he wouldn’t be able to resist stabbing her with one more thorn. “Peris or Abdan?”

&nb
sp; “Actually, both.”

  “I’m sorry, Sybil,” David said. “I’ll talk with the premiers immediately”

  “David, how did you know he was going to do this?”

  “You wanted them to have peace. Targeting them would hurt you most.”

  “Because Austin is Austin.” She reached for Jonathan’s hand.

  “Because Austin is Austin.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Saturday, August 10 First-Strike Launch: 01:32:00

  On the A-267 elevator, Jonathan smelled that smell. Dark. Dank. Evil. “Sybil.” His tone carried a warning. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  She placed a hand against the sleeve of his black jacket. “It’s all we have.”

  Resigned to that truth, Jonathan pushed the button. The elevator began to descend and he leaned back against the wall. “The president should have started the cross-check on key staff sooner.”

  “You’re right. He talked with everyone, but he should have taken the investigation farther. We knew we had a traitor on staff soon after the crisis started—long before we got out of the swamp. But I understand David’s reluctance. He backs up his team. If he didn’t, he would have asked for my resignation before the divorce.”

  Instead, he was refusing to accept it now. “I’m glad about that, but this isn’t a political game of strategy. We’re facing the threat of annihilation.”

  She rubbed his sleeve. “You and I know that, but part of David’s genius is that he sees them as the same. There are times when that’s advantageous and times when it’s not. That’s why he needs us. We see the difference.”

  The death stench grew stronger. “I don’t want you going in there alone.”

  “I won’t be. The media will be there, and Commander Conlee.”

  “And me.”

  Sybil hated what she was about to say, but she had to do it. “I don’t want you in there, Jonathan.”

  “Why the hell not? I’m in your life now. We’re riding this relationship together willingly, remember? That means all the way, Sybil. Marriage, kids—a whole life.”

  The bottom dropped out of her stomach. “You want to marry me? And have kids?”