ENEMY WITHIN THE GATES

by Richard Drummer

  Ethan laughed. “Sometimes you know you did the right thing when you’ve pissed off both sides.”

  They rolled on, momentarily oblivious to the storm that swirled around them, enjoying a brief but fleeting taste of normalcy. Ethan glanced away from the road, and their eyes met. His hand reached out and found hers and their fingers wove together. A thousand words passed between them, with none needing to be spoken. They held tight until an internal alarm went off in both of them at the same time. Jordan looked at the dashboard clock. 3:56 pm. They would arrive at their destination a few minutes before the next call was due to come in. She reached in her purse and pulled out the new phone, and powered it up.

  Ethan spotted the sign for the rest area and breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to be off the road and stationary when Jordan spoke to her father. With seconds to spare, they pulled into a spot at the back of the rest area. Both got out and walked up a path that led to a cluster of picnic tables, then crested a hill and into a meadow-like clearing.

  The signal strength read one bar on the phone. Murray had spent an hour looking over the maps of cell tower locations before picking this spot for their conversation. It was nearly a dead zone. Even if someone attempted to trace the origin of this call, it would take longer than usual. The results would be vague at best, with no way to pinpoint Jordan’s phone location down to less than a half-mile. Anyone pursuing them would likely approach from one of the rural roads they now looked down upon from their vantage point. They would see the other guys long before being observed themselves. This offered a few precious minutes to make their escape, though neither believed it would be necessary. Jordan trusted her father, and Ethan trusted Jordan.

  At 4:01 pm, the phone chirped in her hand. Jordan flinched and looked to Ethan, who nodded his approval. She held it to her ear and said, “Operator.”

  “Oh, thank God,” she heard her father’s voice exhaling with relief. Her eyes welled. Even under the duress of their plight, his familiar tone gave a reassurance that warmed and revitalized her.

  Clifford West served the public for most of Jordan’s childhood, but she always felt like the most important person in his life. He was there for all the big moments and events. Ever the proud daddy with a video camera at school plays and talent shows. No matter how small the part, Jordan West was the star in her father’s eyes. He was always there to help pick up the pieces when she stumbled, and she needed him now more than ever. If she couldn’t trust this man, then nothing else in life mattered. Jordan glanced back to Ethan, who seemed to sense all she was feeling, and nodded. They were going to be okay.

  “Yes, daddy, it’s me. I’m so sorry for the secrecy and for making you worry. It’s been… It’s been the worst time of my life.”

  The governor took a moment and composed himself. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’m with a group of people that rescued me. Daddy, they risked everything and arranged for me to call you.”

  West was immediately suspicious, as he should have been. None of this made sense. Maybe his daughter was actually under duress. “Tell me where you are. Tell me, and I’ll come to you. Let’s bring an end to all of this right now.”

  “Like I said, it’s not that simple.”

  “Are they listening? Do you have to choose your words? Do they have ransom demands?”

  “No, I told you, they’re not a threat to me.”

  “Then who is? Come on, Jordan, cut to the chase and tell me—”

  “It was mom.”

  There was a long silence. “Come again?”

  “The security leak that exposed the military mission to track Abu Dahl in the Middle East… it was mom. I saw the video from her office. She planted that information for Al Jazeera to find during her interview with them. She wanted the mission to fail, needed it to fail. She said she could lose the election if it succeeded, and we caught Sirhan Abbas. I confronted her about it, and she said she would explain later. Daddy, she drugged my drink! The next thing I knew, I was in that cell. That tiny little…” She caught herself before going too far off message. “I don’t know how they did it, but my friends got me out. They’re hiding me until we can figure out a plan to set this right. Mother has people looking for me. That’s who I’m hiding from. If I’m caught, they’ll lock me up again!”

  “Your…your mother did this?” West stammered, unprepared for such devastating news. It wasn’t possible, was it? How could anyone turn on their own daughter, allowing political aspirations to eclipse their love of family? West never could. And he could not fathom his own wife sinking so low so fast. He cursed himself for ignoring the signs and encouraging her when she had first shown interest.

  West grounded his own calling into public life with a strong sense of morality and ethics. He recalled those early days of Katherine’s rapid political ascent. It suddenly struck him that those critical virtues were missing even back then.

  Katherine was always interested in hearing about his day in government at the dinner table. It was much more than simple interest, he now admitted. Her inquisitiveness danced on the edge of hunger. Still, he viewed her as selfless and warm-hearted, willing to give up a life of glamour to be a wife and mother. But he also recalled the cunning, methodical, and driven person who slowly took the place of the one he loved. He watched the progression, starting with that first conversation about running for office, any office.

  “With what I’ve learned from you, Cliff, I could be a damn good stateswoman.”

  That was the start of her unprecedented ascent into politics. It also marked the beginning of the end. West saw the cracks in their relationship long ago and subconsciously ignored them. He’d clung instead to the memories of a life that brought such happiness. His mind replayed images of a woman pulling away bit by bit, leaving her small family to flounder in her wake and her absence. Regardless, these were terrible accusations against the woman he still chose to love. Denial, he admitted, was a natural defense mechanism.

  “Are you absolutely sure of your facts?” he asked, hoping for a different response. When Jordan answered in the affirmative, he did not question her again.

  “I want you to talk to someone who will explain what’s happening,” Jordan told him, “and what we’re trying to do. I trust him, and you should too.” Jordan handed the phone to Ethan.

  “Governor West, my name is Ethan Ludwig.”

  “Mr. Ludwig, how about you bring my daughter to me now and stop this cloak and dagger bullshit right here!”

  “Sir, it is my intention to bring Jordan to you myself. But I need to explain the situation we’re in. And I need to ask for your help.”

  “Answer me a few questions first, if you don’t mind. How did you come to know my daughter?”

  Ethan smiled at Jordan as he recalled their first meeting. “I was talking with some friends at a coffee shop. She interjected herself into the conversation.”

  “Go on,” West prodded.

  “She made excellent points, and It’s hard to argue with facts and logic. I’m sure you know that your daughter has a lot of both.”

  West was adept at sizing up a man’s character from a brief conversation. What he was hearing came as a great relief. Jordan approached him, not the other way around. It was less likely that she had been stalked and tricked. Still, it was possible their first meeting was orchestrated by a skilled manipulator. West pressed on.

  “May I ask your political persuasion?”

  What a confusing question. “Governor, why would that matter right now?”

  “Humor me, son,” he replied.

  Ethan thought before answering. “Okay, but I don’t think you’ll find this very humorous. As a rule, I vote for the other side.”

  Interesting, West thought. A good bullshit artist would have jumped on the opportunity to butter him up about being of like minds. This guy didn’t take the bait.

  “I see,” he answered. “And how is it you still find middle ground with Jordan?”

&nb
sp; Ethan looked to Jordan again and smiled. “Because your daughter thinks with her mind and her heart. I happen to believe you need both to make good decisions.”

  A little sappy, West thought. But this was definitely not someone in the business of lying. He’d seen many of them in action and knew the tells that could give away the best of them. He was now confident Ethan was truthful. So far, at least. Their story still sounded incredibly far-fetched, but now he had a reason to trust the man.

  “Proceed, Mr. Ludwig. You have my undivided attention.”

  “Thank you, sir. Now what we have in mind is…”

  Jordan noticed a swirling cloud of dust out of the corner of her eye. She looked down the hill as two police cars traveled fast in their direction. She spied a third approaching from the other road. She grabbed the phone from Ethan. “Daddy, did you buy that phone yourself, or did someone buy it for you?”

  “I sent Riley Comstock to pick it up for me. You know she’s worked in my office for quite a while. Why?”

  “She may have given that number to someone, and the police are coming. We have to go. Where are you staying in DC?”

  “Your favorite, I’ll be in room 825.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” She ended the call and pulled the battery from the phone.

  Ethan kept watching the progress of the police cruisers. “Walk with me nice and slow toward those trees,” he said, putting his arm around her. From any vantage point, they looked like two love-struck travelers taking a break from driving. Once the thicket of branches concealed them from the roads below, he pulled her into a run.

  “Cross your fingers that they’re not looking for us on the freeway yet,” he said.

  Jordan snuck a glance back. The speeding police cars were now a few hundred yards from the cross street that lay at the bottom of the hill. From there, the road stopped at a T-intersection with no access road leading up to their location.

  Murray’s plan was working exactly as he said it would, but they shouldn’t have needed the plan at all. Her father’s assistant had compromised this meeting. It came as little surprise that it would be Riley Comstock. She was one of the governor’s two aides. Jordan long suspected that Ms. Comstock secretly held aspirations of serving on her mother’s presidential staff. She must have seen this as a way to curry favor and passed the phone info onto Karlson, who then traced the call. Jordan didn’t worry as much about the contents of their conversation. Listening in would have been nearly impossible, even for her well-connected mother. But obtaining triangulation data with the company’s cell towers could be done simply enough by slipping the right person the right bribe.

  As they crested the hill, Ethan glanced over his shoulder and noticed the police cars split up at the divide. One now headed north, another west, while the third officer stopped and got out. Ethan watched as he surveyed the landscape, then fixed his gaze on their location up the hill.

  “I think that cop just figured this out,” he said. “Things are about to get hot. Come on, move faster.”

  Once back over the hill and out of the cop’s sight, the pair darted for the car. Ethan slid in and turned the key, eased out of the lot, and merged into southbound traffic. He traveled to the first exit, looped around, then headed back north. After a few miles, he looked to Jordan and breathed a sigh of relief. “No cops yet. We might be all right…” He stopped mid-sentence as two state police cruisers shot past over on the southbound side.

  He thought the change in direction had given them the slip when a third cruiser came up fast from behind with no lights or siren. Ethan maintained his speed as it approached in the left lane. The cruiser neared and dropped its pace to match his. This was not a good sign. A stone-faced trooper in the passenger seat gave Ethan a thorough once over. Ethan returned the look with a courteous nod. The cruiser continued to match their speed.

  “God, please don’t pull us over,” Jordan whispered under her breath.

  Ethan could tell she was frozen with fear as she stared forward. If they were caught now, they would have to act the parts of their false identities. He doubted she could pull that off.

  A single thought came to mind, and he said, “Turn on the radio and crank it.”

  She gave him a questioning look but followed his instruction. The radio was already tuned to a good rock station, and she turned it louder. Ethan began nodding his head to the beat. Jordan followed suit with a bit more flair. A grin crept across her face as her rigid muscles began relaxing. Now they looked like two people who couldn’t care less about being scrutinized by a pair of Maryland troopers.

  It didn’t work.

  The cruiser slowed, and its red and blue lights began strobing brightly as it dropped back. The radio continued blaring out a driving rock anthem, but their hearts pounded louder than the rumbling bass. A lifetime passed in a matter of seconds. Ethan wondered how well he and Jordan could act out a scenario they hadn’t talked much about. He glanced back in the mirror. The cruiser had tucked in tight on his tail. He signaled and let off the accelerator, pulling to the shoulder. It was going to take a miracle to fight through their fear and stay on script.

  That’s what they got.

  The cruiser abruptly shot to the left shoulder and wheeled into an emergency turnaround. It fishtailed as it turned and accelerated, tires smoking as it zoomed off in the opposite direction.

  Ethan watched as his heart pulsated in his throat. He finally forced himself to take a breath. It didn’t get much closer than that.

  The momentary relief vanished as he realized the cruiser was headed to the rest area where they just made their phone call.

  No words were exchanged as Ethan pulled back onto the freeway. He took the next exit and traveled east. He made a turn, then another, driving a circuitous route back to Joe and Theresa’s house. The tension was all-consuming. He maintained the speed limit, passing two more police cars parked on the shoulder along the way. Each time he went by one, he would add a few additional loops to his route, ensuring he was not followed. He glanced over and noticed Jordan’s pallor and fearful expression. Poor kid, he thought as he reached over and took her hand. She barely acknowledged his touch, staring forward at nothing, her thoughts miles beyond.

  They drove the rest of the way in silence. Ethan finally pulled the car up the long, tree obscured drive and into the pole barn. He killed the engine and sat for a moment, decompressing.

  Jordan squeezed his hand and locked eyes with fixed determination. “We end this,” she said. “We end this now.”

  44

  Katherine Karlson and Gene Lawton sat across from each other on the twin leather sofas in her office. Seated between them in the tall armchair usually reserved for Karlson was Riley Comstock, assistant to Governor West. Her manner and expression exuded confidence.

  Comstock knew early on that her position with Governor West would not carry her career to the heights she aspired. For that, she needed to aligned herself with Karlson. West was content to remain as governor for at least another term, and a presidential bid would never be in the cards. And although Comstock admired his conviction, Senator Karlson was her ticket forward. ‘Presidential Advisor’ had such a distinctive ring. It sure beat the hell out of ‘Governor’s Assistant.’

  Comstock kept the senator updated on all incoming news concerning Jordan. She also watched for any activity that seemed out of the ordinary. Being asked by the governor to buy a disposable phone seemed like an odd request. She passed the information on to Lawton in case it turned out to be valuable. It was.

  She smiled as she eyed Karlson, envisioning the fires that burned beneath the surface. This was a driven woman who would stop at nothing short of her goal. Both of them shared that trait. The young assistant could sense the energy emanating from this meeting. The same auras of dynamism must have existed when the most influential world leaders assembled together. How the air must have crackled with electricity when Franklin Roosevelt, Winston Churchill, and Joseph Stalin met in the same room. That’s w
hat Comstock felt right now; a plasmid field of energy connecting them. She was confident the senator could feel it too.

  She wondered if Gene Lawton was even remotely aware of the sparks that flew between her and Karlson just beyond the visual horizon. Or was it something that could only be perceived by those who possessed such power? It was a question she pondered throughout her young life; did anyone comprehend who the hell she was, or more importantly, who she would become?

  Senator Karlson offered a pained smile. “I wanted to personally thank you for contacting me, Riley. These last few days have been the worst of my life. Any information on my daughter’s whereabouts,” she paused for effect, “is greatly appreciated. Please, tell us everything you’ve heard.”

  Comstock returned the gesture with an expression of rehearsed sympathy. “Senator Karlson, I can only imagine the pain you must be going through. If there is anything I can do to help bring Jordan home safely, you can count on me.”

  She paused, waiting for a reaction from Karlson. When none came, she continued. “Governor West received a call shortly after we landed in DC. He didn’t offer details of the conversation, but I could hear the concern in his voice. He instructed me to pick up a disposable phone and bring it to the hotel—an odd request. My first thought was the governor was being contacted by the kidnappers. So I jotted down the number from the package and immediately called you. Did it prove useful?” she asked, knowing the answer.

  True to form, Karlson thought, very predictable. She wondered what would her husband think if he knew this beautiful Judas was offering knowledge of his private calls in exchange for a spot on her campaign team? She, on the other hand, knew Riley’s type and expected nothing less.

  Karlson began sizing up Riley Comstock the day she was hired as an intern on her husband’s staff. There was a hunger, an unbridled determination in the articulate young woman. Karlson knew of dozens just like her. The type that would stop at nothing for a taste of success. Rather than treat her like an enemy combatant, however, she accepted Comstock as a known commodity. A dazzling mare who would steal the Queen’s jewels if given the opportunity. Nonetheless, she was a valuable asset within her husband’s inner circle. Karlson vowed to use that unbounded energy to her advantage.