3 Thank God it's Monday (3 page)

He just shook his head.

“No. This way is better. The plan has already been made. You
will see,” he said. He let go of her hand and stepped to a table.

She turned and saw him pick up a vial and a needle. He
tapped the bottle and held it up to the light. He plunged the needle into the
top of the bottle and pulled back the plunger.

“What are you doing?” Giselle asked, panicked.

“Saving you,” he said simply.

Gary flicked the syringe once and pushed some liquid through
the needle. It spurted out into the air.

“Don’t,” she pleaded. “There must be another way!” She was
scared and angry and desperate. She thrashed against her restraints to no avail.
She knew it was hopeless because Gary seemed unconcerned about her frantic
movement.

He calmly turned to her and plunged the needle into her bare
shoulder. She felt the cold liquid enter under her skin. She could feel the
pinch of the needle. He removed it, wiped it with a cloth and deposited it into
a plastic Sharps container.

She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. The world collapsed
on her; the lights were bright behind her eyelids as she succumbed to the numb.
She heard Gary moving close by but could not see him. Then his face loomed near
and she felt his lips brush hers. She could feel his warm salty tears on her
upper lip.
I did not take advantage of you,
he had said.

Liar!
She thought as she lost consciousness.

“L
ooks like they beefed up security,” Hallie observed. The
gate security took four minutes, and they were invited. Senator Swane had
called Kyle Evers who told them to make this visit and then get back to New
York.

Jake noted the cameras and the motion detectors along the
drive up to the Swane mansion. A line of trees screened the house from the
country road on which they dwelt. The drive wound around a small pond and then
the house was before them. It was three stories in the center, and was a mix of
old South plantation architecture and modern materials. Four columns, two
stories tall, framed the entry and supported a small veranda on the third floor.
White limestone block wings of the house disappeared into a copse of blooming
fruit trees on the north. A dark brick edition on the south connected to a four
car garage and a two-story addition with another bay for a large vehicle,
probably an RV.

Windows were trimmed in white with multiple panes reflecting
the splendor of the nature surrounding the house. The gravel drive was a fine
crushed rock that rumbled and crunched under the tires of their
government-issued Suburban. Four men in front of the house stepped down onto
the gravel as they pulled around. From the bulges in their dark jackets, it was
obvious they were armed. They all wore sunglasses, short haircuts, and scowls.

“They have four more on the grounds,” Jake said, pointing
with his eyes as he put the Suburban into park.

“They’re serious,” Hallie noted. She smiled at him. He
smiled back. She was nervous and he understood why. These were Washington-based
Secret Service agents. They were a different breed. Very territorial. Extremely
cautious. Super dangerous if spooked.

“We have nothing to worry about. We are here by invitation. Relax.”

Hallie smirked.

“You really know how to put a gal at ease, Mr. Monday,” she
said, sarcasm dripping from her words. She got out, escorted by a young agent
with blond hair. He was the new guy, still not jaded and jumpy. He had removed
his glasses. He gave Hallie a half smile as he took her hand.

“Welcome to the Swane residence, Mrs. Monday. We are looking
forward to your visit. Please step this way, ma’am, while we do our normal
security procedures,” he said with a mixture of formality, southern charm, and
firmness. He meant business but was going to be hospitable about it. “I am
agent Tommy Namaker of the Secret Service. I would be honored if you would
allow me to escort you to the Senator once we finish our duties here.”

She turned and winked at Jake as she allowed Tommy to take
her hand. She gave him a shy, coy smile. Tommy’s smile was perfect, his teeth
perfect. Jake just shook his head. Hallie had her way with men like that. Within
three seconds, she had the guy eating from her hand. He was sure it would not
get them past the security procedures. The guy in charge had his arms crossed
in front of his zipper and was looking down his chest at them.

Jake got out and came around the car. He noted that no one
wanted to escort him. He looked for eyes. He could only see reflections in the
sunglasses of the other men. But, he got the feeling all eyes were on him. All
but Tommy.

So, I am the dangerous one?

He wanted to tell them that it was Hallie who had shot all
those people in New York. He had not even pulled a gun on anyone. Why did they
distrust him?

He stepped up to the front steps as two agents descended. The
big guy with the biceps bulging and the sneer stood at the top of the stairs. Jake
looked up and did not like the vibe he was getting.

This guy hates me,
he thought.

The other two agents frisked him. He raised his hands to his
sides and let them do their search. They took his wallet. They took his keys. They
were handed to another agent who had come up behind him. He could hear the
crunch of the gravel under his shoes. Hallie giggled and then laughed at
something Tommy had said.

Nobody else talked. Jake watched Mr. Universe grind his
teeth and stare at him with contempt. Jake did not recognize him.

“You can put your arms down now, Mr. Monday,” the agent to
his left said with threadbare politeness.

“Come with me,” Mr. Universe said. He turned his back on
Jake. Tommy followed, now holding Hallie’s forearm locked in his.

Great, we’re going to a ball, Jake thought.

Mr. Universe shut the door behind Tommy and Hallie, giving
orders for the others outside as he did.

The mansion was massive. The entry was teak and marble. Gold
and silver, oak and mahogany gleamed in the light that streamed in from the
large windows. The draperies and curtains were tasteful and elegant.

Four more agents descended the stairs, their footsteps
muffled by the thick carpet. One of the agents was tall, his ebony skin
shining, and the headset in his ear a bright white. His deep brown eyes scanned
the lobby. He looked like he wanted to say something, but quickly looked away
as Mr. Universe came back to lead them all down the hallway.

“Wow. I have never seen such elegance,” Hallie remarked.

Tommy nodded.

“The Swanes own several businesses. Their family fortune can
be traced back to the Civil War. They have always had one family member or
other that served either in the military or politics in every generation.”

“That’s quite a track record,” Hallie said, her smile
radiating.

She was a stark contrast to the men in the room. They were
stoic. Well, except for Mr. Universe. Jake had the distinct feeling they were
not welcome.

“Tommy. Go back and pull the Monday’s vehicle around and
leave the keys in the ignition. Check it for devices,” Mr. Universe said. He
turned to Hallie and bowed, “As a courtesy, of course.”

Tommy took one glance at Hallie and bowed, taking her hand
to his lips.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, ma’am,” he said.

Jake turned in time to watch two of the agents look at each
other and roll their eyes. Jake couldn’t help smirking.

Why can’t their boss have as much levity as the rest of
the guys on this detail?
He wondered.

Tommy exited, jingling the keys.

Mr. Universe directed two of the agents behind them to stand
guard in the lobby. The other two came with them.

Hallie looked up at him as he took her hand in his. Her smug
smile told him she enjoyed this game. Her eyes told him that she was even more
nervous than before. He watched her clutch her purse in her other hand.

Jake looked up as they stopped at the entry to a narrow
hallway. Mr. Universe turned, his hands on his hips. He had removed his glasses
and Jake could see his eyes were the shade of winter, a blue so light that it
almost blended with the whites of his eyes. They were the eyes of a Siberian husky.

“I am Senior Agent Brad Welker, Mr. Monday,” he said. “I am
familiar with your file. I want you to know that I have an eye on you.” The
menace and accusation in his voice were cold and dark.

Jake tilted his head.

“Well, Agent Welker. I appreciate your concern. Senator
Swane is a personal friend. And as you are probably aware, I saved his life
last week,” Jake said, trying to keep his voice light and friendly.

The disdain that poured from Welker’s eyes was disturbing. Jake
was almost scared.

“That was my detail. That should have been my watch,” Welker
said, his voice a low growl.

Territorial. Figures
, Jake thought bitterly.

Jake nodded, his eyebrows raised.

“I understand. Well, I am sorry you missed it. Perhaps next
time, eh? I hate baseball, anyway.” Jake shrugged.

“Follow me,” he said gruffly. He turned and led them to a
room with dark paneling and the smell of old cigar smoke. A chandelier hung
over a pool table. The balls were racked at one end and three pool sticks were
hung on the wall on a ledge that contained a cube of blue chalk.

“I feel like one of the good ole’ boys. Let’s get out the
cigars and brandy, whatcha say boys?” Hallie suggested.

They smiled. Well, except for Welker.

“Wait here. Agent Sands, please let the Senator know his
guests have arrived,” Welker said, pacing to the other side of the pool table. His
face disappeared in the glare from the chandelier. Jake was grateful, those
ice-blue eyes were beginning to unnerve him.

Agent Sands exited through a door on the far side of the
room. As he turned to close the door, he looked back at Jake and hesitated. Jake
recognized him. Now Jake understood the agent’s hesitation on the stairs
earlier. Jake had worked alongside him in Chicago during an investigation. He
had been bright and dedicated. He had outworked everyone, even Jake.

What is he doing here?
Jake wondered as Sands closed
the door slowly, giving a slight nod of recognition. Jake returned it.

Hallie flicked the nails of her left hand. She only did this
when she was nervous or pressured.

The tension in the room was palpable. He was ambiguous to
Welker, but it was obvious that Welker did not like him. He wondered if it mattered.
He was here for a short visit. His mind was already in New York, working
through the new information, hoping that Lars, Violet, and whoever they worked
for would leave him alone long enough to discover why he had been brainwashed
and who wanted the president dead.

Of course, an investigation had already been launched. The
consensus was that the president had not been targeted. Camilla Cross was the
only target all along. She was an undercover agent for the FBI and had been in
deep cover. It was assumed that her cover had been blown. It was likely her
repeated contact with Jake had led to her murder. They suspected someone
involved with Galbraith. For unexplained reasons, though, nothing developed
further in the investigation.

Jake recalled the meetings with Camilla. She had known who
he was somehow. In another life, maybe. With his memories mostly retrieved now,
he was surprised that he found that he could not recall meeting Camilla before
his flight to Los Angeles.

Hallie boosted herself up onto the table and grabbed a pool
stick. She was working hard at trying to seem unfazed by the tension.

“Wanna play?”

“Maybe Senator Swane will take you on. You would beat me off
the break. I know better.”

She smiled at him, her face partially shaded by the yellow
light of the chandelier behind her. Agent Welker shook his head and crossed his
arms across his chest. Jake couldn’t see his face, but he guessed he was
rolling his eyes and sneering. Agent Welker was good at sneering, Jake guessed.

The door opened and the Senator entered, escorted by Agent
Sands and another agent, older, with gray at his temple and a vertical scar
across his forehead. He looked like ex-special forces.

Jake noted the senator’s drawn face and the lines of worry
around his eyes.

“Let’s make this quick, gentlemen. I have a meeting with my
campaign committee at six in Charlotte,” Swane said. He sounded exhausted.

“Sir, we will just need to make one more sweep of the...”

“Get out. All of you. Guard the doors if you want. I have no
more patience with you,” he said, his voice firm and angry.

“I cannot do that, sir. Mr. Monday is...”

“Mr. Monday is my guest and my friend. You will leave me
with him and his charming wife,” he smiled at her briefly.

Welker’s eyes flitted between Sands and the older agent in
the room, his teeth grinding. He inhaled. Jake could tell he wanted to press it
further. He was making a business decision. Jake did not envy him. His career
was potentially in danger either way.

“With all due respect, Senator Swane, my duty is to protect
you. This man,” he pointed at Jake with his eyes. His hands remained at his
sides. “is dangerous. He is a known assassin, sir. I cannot leave you in his
company, even though he is your friend,” Agent Welker said. His eyes were
fierce and defiant. He had played his card, knowing the Senator would not fall
for the bluff.

“Brad, I do not care about your duty. I hope that does not
upset your sensibilities.” The Senator walked up to the agent, closing the gap
between them. He leaned forward, his eyes intense, his voice weary but sharp,
tinged with anger and condescension. Brad, to his credit, did not blink. “You
and your men are dismissed from this room. There will be no more discussion
about it or I will have your entire detail removed from my house this hour. Do
you understand?” He raised his eyebrows.

Brad swallowed slowly, hesitating to answer, his intense
eyes not wavering from Swane’s face.

“I understand that you are making a big mistake Senator
Swane,” Welker said.

The senator glanced at Jake and turned back slowly to Agent
Welker. He pointed to Jake.

“Whatever you have against this man, you cannot deny that he
saved my life. I trust him. That is more than I can say for you and your team,
Agent Welker. With each new member that has come into my house or on my tour
this past week, I feel my safety is at greater risk. More is not always better,
Brad.”

Brad looked hurt and confused. He glanced again at his
compatriots.

“We are only trying to protect you and your family, sir.” His
voice rose in anger as he pointed to Jake, his eyes squinting, his mouth
turning in a snarl. “I don’t understand why you are questioning our loyalty
while you are perfectly willing to accept this man into your house, into this
room, unprotected.”

The Senator, looked at Jake with exasperation and
resignation. He shrugged. He turned to look at Agent Welker.

“Agent Welker. I will not ask you again. Leave the room and
protect the perimeter. Send another man to get my wife some ice tea and a cold
cloth for her head. Make yourselves useful. The taxpayers are footing the bill
for your services. You are wasting their hard-earned money standing in here
flexing your muscles and making faces at me.”