by Riley Flynn
Maggie shook her head. “The president’s council is far from ‘government’, Jax. And even if your theory held water, how the hell would I track anyone down without forensic evidence? This isn’t a TV show.”
Jax scowled. He was losing the fight here, and he knew it. Was he just being stubborn? His gut had never steered him wrong before, and right now it was screaming that Brad Farries was no murderer, even if all the evidence pointed in that direction. But pushing someone to give him special consideration because of a gut feeling also went against everything he, and the Constitution he’d sworn an oath to, were supposed to stand for.
“All right,” he said. “How about this: I’ll do what I can to help you find Farries. You give me equal time if I come up with another suspect.”
She didn’t answer right away, which Jax took as a good sign. “Okay,” she said finally. “I’m open to compromise. I just want Farries off the streets, because if he really is as dangerous as Smith thinks, he’s a threat to everyone around him.”
Jax’s eyes widened. “Smith again. What does he have to do with this?”
“Look, I know you have a problem with him—”
“He’s an irresponsible asshole who put my daughter and my men in the line of fire! Hell, he dismissed you when you told him something was up when we were in the mountains! If you’d listened to him, I’d be dead and the city would likely have been attacked by the people we ended up killing.”
“I know, I was there,” she said flatly. “Like it or not, Smith was the last person to see Farries. And he believes Farries was capable of murder that night.”
She looked like she was debating whether to say something else, but she didn’t.
“Then he doesn’t know Farries,” said Jax.
“We’ve already agreed to our compromise. I don’t have time to keep chewing this over. Now are we done?”
Jax took a deep breath. She was right—railing at her wasn’t going to change her mind. They would each have to go their separate ways on this and hope that one of them would eventually find the truth.
“Yes,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, I apologize for being so extreme about this. I’m kind of used to giving orders and having people follow them. This is new territory for me.”
“You and me both,” she said, standing up. She held out a hand. “Can we start again on this?”
He stood and took the offered hand. It was warm and soft in his big, rough one. “Absolutely. There are enough angry civilians already without us turning on each other. Besides, as I myself just pointed out, I kind of owe you my life.”
She smiled. “Damn right. And don’t you forget it.”
On his way out of the office, Jax thought about her response to his line about new territory: you and me both. What did that mean? Before he could give it any more thought, he saw Henry Archer waving to him from inside his own office.
“Captain,” he said. “A word.”
“Sir.” Jax walked into the office and closed the door behind him.
“What’s the problem with you and Stubbs?”
Jax suddenly realized the sound probably carried in the old building, and both he and Maggie had been raising their voices.
“You heard about Farries,” he said.
“I did.”
“Do you think he’s capable of murder?”
Archer leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I think anyone is capable of anything, given the right circumstances.”
“Sir, you hand-picked the men in Echo Company yourself.”
Archer looked him in the eye for several moments before reaching over to an old analog radio—the kind that people a century earlier used to gather around in their living room to listen to Superman and the Lone Ranger—on the sideboard next to his desk. He turned a knob, filling the room with the stark hiss of static. Then he leaned forward and motioned for Jax to do the same.
“Yes, I did,” he said in a low voice. “And I would trust any one of them in battle. But this isn’t a battle, son. This is a whole new reality.”
Jax felt a twinge of disappointment in the old man. He was hoping for backup, but instead he got the same line he was hearing from Maggie, and, apparently, Smith. And what was with the radio? Was the old man getting paranoid?
“This world throws things at us that we’re not prepared for,” said Archer. “I don’t have to tell you that.”
“No, sir.”
“But here’s something I will tell you: the first time I met Marcus Chase, I was still a major and he’d just been appointed to his first term as Secretary of Defense. But he had a long career before he ever got to that point: he’d served under Stormin’ Norman Schwarzkopf in the first Gulf War. He was the head of the CIA for almost ten years; ran army intelligence for ten years before that. The man was a living legend.”
Jax nodded. Anyone in counter-terrorism who didn’t know Marcus Chase’s career inside out didn’t belong in the uniform.
“So when I shook his hand for the first time, it felt almost surreal. Like shaking hands with Eisenhower, or Patton. Then I got to know him, and I discovered that there was a heart in there, too. He was a real person, just like the rest of us.”
“Yessir. I understand.”
“You of all people should understand what I’m about to say next, then.” The general locked eyes with him. “That day in September, when we took Chase into custody after we realized he was behind the drones that had blown up Air Force One…that just about broke me, Jax. I felt like I’d swallowed a rock. The one man we could all turn to for leadership, the straightest of the straight arrows, the guy who had kept a lot of people from revolting against Terry Fletcher during the worst of our dealings with China, had turned around and killed the president in cold blood.”
Jax thought about that for a long moment.
“He had a tumor in his brain, sir.”
“How do you know Farries doesn’t? Or some other mental problem? Maybe he’s had a psychotic break, we don’t know. Maybe he was on medication and he can’t find it anymore. Son, you’re too smart not to have noticed that people are on the razor’s edge right now. There are over a thousand highly trained, highly capable soldiers and airmen in this city, and their routine amounts to making sure some fifteen thousand civilians get bottled water and toilet paper, then spending the rest of their day bored out of their fucking skulls. All the while, they’re wondering if one of the people that Adler’s group was in contact with is going to step out from behind a corner and start firing at them.
“And what do they get in return? Three hots and a cot in a bunker under a mountain. A hot shower once a week. Before the collapse, that’s what people got in prison. It’s a lot to ask of even the best of us, Captain, and there is no end in sight to the situation.”
Jax thought the old man’s face had never looked so tired, and that was saying something. He seemed to have aged a decade over the last six months overseeing the impossible task of rebuilding the republic; the furrows next to his mouth had deepened, the bags under his eyes looked like leather pouches. Even his voice had lost the gravelly edge that had commanded so many men to perform at their highest level over the years. It was papery now, without force.
If even Archer was breaking, what hope did the rest of them have?
“Sir, are you saying you think Farries is the killer?”
The old man sighed. “No, I’m saying that Marcus Chase was the best of us, and if he could break bad—and force you and me to demonize an innocent man in the process—then none of us is above suspicion. Don’t let loyalty blind you to reality, son.”
“I don’t think you’re paying attention.”
Jax looked up from the checkerboard into Hayley’s eyes. They were playing on the little table in his quarters, with barely enough room on either side for both of them to sit. A cup of watery instant cocoa had congealed on the table next to the girl’s stack of stolen plastic discs.
“What?” he asked.
“See, that’s what
I mean. Plus, I just kinged myself for like the third time. It’s not fun to play if you’re not going to try.”
“I am trying,” he lied. “You’re just better than me at this.”
Hayley rolled her eyes and Jax bit back the urge to snap at her for it. It wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t keep his mind off his problems.
“This is so boring,” she moaned. “Grown-ups are boring. Everything is boring!”
“We’re trying our best, kiddo,” he said evenly.
“No, you’re not. Val and Carly are gone, and Maggie and Ruben are never around anymore. And I only see you like two nights a week now.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” he said in a tone that implied he wasn’t. “I have work to do. If I don’t do it, there’ll be big problems, so unfortunately, that means I can’t play checkers with you every night.”
He immediately regretted his tone and his words, but it was too late: Hayley’s brows knitted and her mouth curled into a pout.
“I want to go to the resort and hang out with my friends,” she said.
He sighed. “Well, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s almost 1930, which means it will be almost twenty hundred hours by the time we get there. And you go to bed at 2100. So no.”
“Pleeease?”
Jax felt a sudden fury that was startling in its force, as if everything that had gone wrong since Rachel’s death in Germany had crashed into him at once. The bunched muscles at the base of his neck throbbed, the aching tension clenched in his jaw. Instinct took over and his mouth opened, and the words came out with raw force.
“Enough!” he barked. “I gave you your orders and you’re goddamn well going to follow them, is that clear?”
And just as instantly, his fury turned to shame as he watched the girl’s eyes melt into a puddle of tears.
Ah, fuck, he thought morosely. What the hell is the matter with me? Rachel, I’m so sorry.
“Hayley—”
She didn’t even speak, just shook her head furiously, her long blond hair whipping around her head. Her knee struck the table as she stood and knocked the checkerboard to the floor with a clatter.
“I’m going to bed,” she husked.
“Honey—”
But it was too late. The heavy door slammed behind her, echoing through the tomb-like catacomb of halls under the hollow mountain. Despite his exhaustion, it would be a long time before Jax fell asleep.
16
Henry Archer popped three of the little white tablets into his mouth and chewed. The minty taste and chalky texture had become as much a part of his routine as breathing these days. It seemed they were the only way to cool the fire that had been brewing in his stomach ever since he arrived in Colorado Springs back in September, and they never lasted long enough.
The knock at the door of his suite startled him, even though he’d been expecting it. He’d stripped down to his T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for the night, because this was far from an official visit, and he might as well be comfortable for it, for Christ’s sake.
He opened the door quickly, not wanting his guest to linger in the hall long enough for anyone to see him. Smith’s dark eyes met his for a moment before he stepped wordlessly into the room.
“General,” he said as the door clicked shut. “What can I do for you?”
You could build a fucking time machine and take me back to before all this started. Back when I still had a soul.
Instead of saying that, he took a breath and let it out. “I hear you were the last person to see Brad Farries the night Lisa Blume was killed.”
“That seems to be the case, yes.”
“I also hear you’re a real a social butterfly these days. I thought I told you to stay out of sight.”
“I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of hiding in plain sight, sir. If I hadn’t been there the night of the quake, Maj. Price might well be dead now instead of nursing a sprained knee. As it is, it worked out perfectly: I’ll offer Maggie Stubbs my help in the investigation, now that Price is out of the picture.”
Archer felt the acid bite under his sternum, stubbornly defying the chalky goop trying to keep it at bay. Smith was a devious son of a bitch, and far too good at his job. Archer wished he’d known just how good months ago, before he’d found himself neck-deep in secrets.
“So you’re going to keep her occupied with Blume’s murder, is that the plan?”
Smith grinned, which prompted another flash of heat in the general’s belly.
“Actually, I’m going to take full advantage of the opportunity that’s presented itself,” he said. “It’s what I was trained to do, after all.”
“Don’t be so fucking cryptic,” Archer said, eyes narrowed. “What are you planning?”
“We know that Farries killed the girl—”
“We don’t know any such thing.”
Smith’s smile widened. “Come on, General. Now’s not the time for self-delusion.”
“For all I know, you killed her as part of your fucking schemes!”
“First of all, I had no reason to do that. Second, beatings are for amateurs.”
Archer scowled. “All right, fine. What’s this opportunity you’re talking about?”
“Farries killed the girl; who’s to say he didn’t kill the Peterson woman, and Nguyen and Purcell as well? We could kill four birds with one stone.”
“What the hell are you thinking, man?” Archer shook his head. “Even if you got him to admit to killing Blume, he’d never confess to the others. I doubt he ever even met any of them.”
“Believe it or not, that did cross my mind,” Smith said drily. “It doesn’t matter. Once he confesses to the one, we simply eliminate him. Then we turn up enough evidence after the fact to link him to the other two, and I convince Stubbs to drop the investigation. I’m sure she’ll be happy to put it all behind her.”
Archer felt his hands ball into fists. “Are you talking about killing a decorated Special Forces soldier? Are you out of your fevered little mind?”
“Give me some credit, sir. I’d make it look like suicide.”
“The man is a hero, you twisted bastard!”
“The man is a killer, General. What were you planning on doing once we brought him in, exactly? Keep him in a makeshift cell under the mountain for the rest of his life? How will you avoid the inevitable debate with civilians over how crime will be dealt with in the new republic? Is that a road you or the president really want to start travelling down now, when everyone seems to be on the edge of exploding?”
The old man felt the familiar ache of impotent rage that had dogged him since he’d reluctantly taken over as the head of the military. Morality was no longer an issue in this game of chess they were playing—a game that would determine if the republic survived, and the very fabric of civilization along with it. It was a game he’d never even known existed before six months ago, and now he was a pawn on the front lines.
“All right,” he said quietly. “Do what you have to do. But there’s something you need to bear in mind if you want to stay alive through this.”
Smith cocked an eyebrow. “I’m all ears.”
“Booth will fight you every step of the way, and I can’t call him off without arousing suspicion. And believe me when I tell you, Jax Booth is not someone you want on your ass. I might court martial you, but he’ll kill you.”
Smith’s crocodile grin was back as he saw himself to the door.
“He’ll try,” he said.
Archer watched as the door swung closed on its hydraulics and the latch snicked into place. He suddenly felt cold, and very, very alone.
17
“C’mon,” Hayley whispered. “Let’s sneak out.”
Lucas’s eyebrows lifted under his long, dirty blond bangs. Ms. Sidley had given them twenty minutes of free time at the end of the school day. She seemed to do it every time Col. Smith showed up for a talk. It was enough to make Hayley wonder if
they were boyfriend and girlfriend.
“It’s okay, she won’t see us. We’ll just go down the halls for a while. If she catches us, we’ll just say we had to go to the bathroom.”
He gave her a sidelong glance but didn’t balk when she grabbed his sleeve and pulled him up from the floor with her. Brandon and Brooke looked at them as they passed; Hayley held a finger to her lips and they went back to their reading.
Out in the halls, they saw the usual: people in fatigues walking around, looking serious. They overheard snatches of conversations:
“—grid’s a real mess, I don’t know how they think they’re going to get at it to fix…”
“—the point? I mean, most of those assholes don’t even say thanks anymore. Why are we busting our…”
“—council member isn’t safe then nobody’s safe until they find whoever did it…”
They made their way down a corridor that looked out onto the snow-covered rear of the resort, the part that faced the mountains. Hayley knew there was a golf course under there somewhere, imagined how mucky it was going to be when the snow finally melted. Gross.
They reached the end of the hall and the little table with fake flowers that was there. Lucas looked at her and shrugged. She turned and backtracked to the main lobby, then took another branching hallway that she’d never been down before. More people filed past, ignoring them.
“—right out back here, not even fifty yards away. They took off when I fired in the air, but as long as we’re neck-deep in rabbits for them to eat, they’re not going anywhere…”
“—top shelf stuff is almost gone. I’m telling you, we should have secured it all when we had the chance. Downtown people can’t tell the difference anyway, bunch of wet-brains…”
“—times I just want to fucking scream…”
Hayley felt the vague thrill she always felt when she heard a grown-up use a swear word. Lucas seemed utterly bored by it all, even though she knew he could hear them, too, but he was sort of like that all the time. Finally, they came across a metal door, the kind with a wide push-bar across the middle. It said EXIT at the top, but there were no warnings about how an alarm would sound if it was opened, so she gave the hall a quick once-over and pushed it open.