3 Thank God it's Monday (9 page)

“I
don’t want his actions here today to be misconstrued,”
Gabriel said.

“I’m not interested in Jake. We have bigger fish. We cannot
continue to hide your involvement with the Consortium. We have tried to keep
you out of it. The time to keep you untarnished has passed. We have to look at
the bigger picture, sir.”

Calvin was right, of course. Gabriel put his hands on his
hips and looked out across the South lawn. The morning was still young and
something told him that he was lucky to still be alive. Evidently today was
supposed to be the day and he was still standing. It almost made him
overconfident.  He was more than just fortunate, maybe he was destined.  He
decided to take some chances.

“We are out of time. This is true. They are everywhere and
nowhere, Calvin. Who do we attack? Some ancient fortress in Moldavia? A ski
resort in Scandinavia? A bank in Sweden? An arms manufacturer in Munich?”

Calvin was nodding.

“We use their own tactics against them. Small groups. Assassins.
Cut off the head of the snake. It is their very own motto.”

“The problem is, Calvin, they are not a snake. They are a
hydra with dozens of heads. We miss just one and the creature will grow them
back and come at us again.”

“Not on our watch. Someone else’s.”

He shook his head.

“Just what I want for my legacy:  the President who passed
the buck.”

“You give Harry Truman too much credit for that phrase, Mr.
President.”

Gabriel smirked at that. This was why he liked Calvin. He
was not afraid to give it to him straight, no bull.

“Still. I cannot let these people get away with this. And we
cannot allow them to continue to corrupt our system.”

“From what I can see, Mr. President, this might not be just
us.”

He turned to Calvin.

“Are you saying this is a world-wide threat?”

“Yes.  Our threat assessment software is predicting a global
event.”

“Maybe NATO is our answer, then.”

Calvin shook his head.

“You know better than that, sir. They are anti-colonial. They
are not equipped for something as delicate and complex as this. You said it
before, where do you attack?”

“Then what do you suggest.”

Calvin’s began to pace. He walked over to the chair by the
mantle.

“A global coalition of special forces, anti-terrorist teams,
specialists, covert operatives. The most highly placed assets with credentials
and untouchable by money, corruption, or external pressures. Simply put, we
need our best. We need to set aside our pride for a moment and enlist the help
of our friends.”

“I suppose you already have these measures ready to go?”

“Some of them,” Calvin admitted. He was matter-of-fact. “Give
me twenty-four hours, Mr. President, and I can have two dozen teams ready. Just
give me targets.”

Gabriel sighed. He sat down at his desk, looking at the
folder he had taken out.

“Let me think on it for six hours, Calvin. I will have your
answer before dinner.”

“Yes sir.”

“Calvin?” His eyes never left the manila folder on his desk.

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“What should we do about this?”

“Until we have it under control, we should put it in a safe
place. Then, we burn it.”

Gabriel chewed his lip. He put the folder in the compartment
under the plaque from the HMS Resolute.

“I need to see my son.”

“He’s just down the hall, sir.”

Gabriel got up and allowed Calvin to open the door for him. Two
agents stood outside his door, alert. Two more were in the hall and stepped
into place behind him and two more in front. Calvin followed.

They reached the door. Two agents stood at attention outside
the door. Gabriel nodded to them and the agent on the right reached across and
opened the door.

“Well. Isn’t this a surprise?” The President exclaimed.

The room was empty.

He heard Calvin curse behind him. Gabriel could not help
smiling.

J
ake raced down the tunnel, his feet skidding on the concrete.
Hallie was just behind him, her breathing coming in great gushes. It was a risk
going back to Headquarters but he had been assured that someone would meet them
there.

The stairs ahead were dark, so he slowed and let Hallie
catch up. He held the SIG Sauer Hallie had given him in both hands. He motioned
for her to slow down.

“Get your breath back. I don’t want to attract attention.”

She pointed ahead toward the stairs.

“It comes out inside some vault,” she said between gulps of
air.

“We need to get back on the treadmill again,” Jake admitted.

“For certain. I am totally out of shape. But I’m not doing
too poorly for being pregnant,” she said.

Jake snapped back to look at her.

“Tell me you are kidding.”

She smiled.

“No. Totally serious,” she said, holding one hand up,
ducking her head and putting the other hand on her knee.

“When?”

“Well. If I had to guess, the beach.”

“But I thought we were being careful.”

“I was. You weren’t.”

“Oh.” He remembered now.

“Just tell me you are fine with it.” Hallie looked up at
him, her eyes pleading.

“Of course,” he said.

“Great. Let’s talk about this later, huh? This would be an
awkward last conversation.”

“Yeah. Let’s go. Stay quiet and stay behind me.”

Jake had kept the handcuffs. He did not want to shoot his
comrades. There were bad guys out there that needed to be put down, no sense in
thinning out the ranks of his allies. Of course, they might not see it that
way.

Hallie went ahead him and grabbed the handle to the door.

A baby. He wished she hadn’t mentioned it. Now he wouldn’t
be able to stop thinking about it. What would Macy think? Where would they live?
The house in Bronxville would have plenty of room, but that wasn’t going to
work. It wouldn’t be safe enough.

For the first time in his life, Jake considered moving out
of the country of his birth. It would probably be the only way they could
completely disappear and still have some semblance of a normal life. Normal. What
a joke. The world was crumbling around their ears.

He wondered if it was a boy.

Jake looked up. Hallie was staring at him, one hand on her
hip, the other holding the door open. Her eyes were wild.

“Stop daydreaming. Come on,” she commanded. “We’re burning
daylight.”

“Life is good,” he quoted, reading her shirt.

“Shut up and let’s find our escort.”

He smiled as he passed her, patting her stomach.

“Ok, mama.”

She hit him on the arm.

They walked out into the hallway acting like they belonged
there. Well, at least Jake did. Hallie still wore a t-shirt, sandals and a
scarf.

“Which side?”

“He said the escort would pick us up on the east side,”
Hallie explained.

In the Roosevelt room, they had been joined by the NSA and
he had given them the key to Jake’s cuffs, a map of the tunnels (totally
unnecessary, but they were not looking a gift horse in the mouth), and two
bottles of water. He took Jake’s press pass and let them keep the SIG. He did not
say much. It was like the room was bugged.

They left by a back door and went down the stairs past miles
of cabling and five foot tall servers in what had once been a swimming pool. The
press briefing room had been built above it. In an alcove near the back, behind
an empty server case, a small crawl hole led to a long tunnel. Hallie had known
the way.

Now, they reached the guard post near the south exit and Hallie
looked at Jake. The room was empty. Jake shrugged and fought the urge to run to
the door before someone saw them. Instead, they walked calmly, eyes scanning
the exits. Jake dropped the SIG into his front pocket and pushed open the door.

They dashed outside. The sun was merciless, beating down on
the concrete. Jake shaded his eyes.

“No time to sight-see. Come on,” Hallie urged. She yanked on
his hand and he stumbled along the sidewalk going east toward the corner.

The bustle from the market was palpable. Then, he saw their
escort. A diamond white Mercedes S600 pulled up, its twin V-12 humming. Jake
almost rolled his eyes as Gary’s window buzzed down with a mechanical whine. He
was not smiling.

“Get in. Make it quick. Natalya is apt to speed and get us arrested.”
He looked up at the front and blew a kiss.

He glanced at Hallie. She was staring at him.

“Are you serious?
He
is our escort?”

Jake sighed and shrugged.

“We don’t have a choice, Hallie. We have to trust him.”

Gary looked out at them.

“Look, I understand your reluctance but you really need to
get in. We can discuss how terrible I am once we are on our way.”

“He’s right,” Jake insisted. Hallie was being unreasonable,
but he was not about to tell
her
that.

“You better be right or I will blame you.”

“Fair enough,” he said, opening the door for her to slide
into the front seat.

Jake went around and got in the opposite side. He recognized
the back of the driver’s head.

“Hello, Natalya,” he said as a greeting. He was not
completely positive she understood English. She glanced at him in the back seat.
Her smile lit up her face for one second and then it disappeared.

She slammed the Mercedes back into motion, the big engine
lurching them forward into traffic effortlessly. Jake noted that Hallie was
gripping the door. Unless she was doing the driving, speeding and taking risks
stressed her out.

Jake loved remembering little things about his wife. It made
him feel almost complete again.

“Ok. Two reasons why you need to trust me,” Gary started in,
his face earnest, two fingers held up to demonstrate his simple points. “One. We
have common goals. We both want to save Giselle. Two. Your father, the
President, reached out to me directly. I don’t know how he got my number, but
he called me...”

“Wait. Save Giselle? Where’s Giselle and what does she have
to do with all this?”

Hallie reached around the seat to face them.

“And why would my husband want to save this little slut?”

“Hallie. It’s fine. She’s sort of my sister.”

Hallie looked at him like he had grown an extra head.

“WHAT!? How exactly is she
sort of
your sister?” Hallie
asked.

“Yes. Please tell us that,” Gary said, his mouth agape and
his eyebrows raised dramatically above the thick lenses of his glasses.

Jake scratched his head.

“Well. I don’t know if I even believe it, really. Eilif told
me that he is Giselle’s father, but my mother, Barbara, is Giselle’s Mom.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Hallie said, turning around
in a huff, her hair flying in her face.

“That would explain a lot, actually,” Gary said. He placed
his finger on his chin in a contemplative manner. Jake was desperate for Gary
to rescue him from this awkward situation. Anything that would allow him to
forget the queasiness in his stomach when he thought about Giselle.

They drove through Mt. Vernon Square and were soon cruising
along on Highway 50 going east. Jake looked at Gary questioningly.

Gary jumped as though startled out of a reverie.

“Oh. Right. We are going to Baltimore. It will be easier to
get out undetected from there. They will be watching the airports here. We can
get to Thurgood Marshall Airport in forty minutes.”

“Where do you propose we go from there?”

Gary bit his lip.

“Have you ever been to Mississippi?”

“As a matter of fact, I have not,” Jake said. He could feel
Hallie staring at him over the seat. She was mad.

“I hate Mississippi,” Hallie said. “I hate alligators, too.” 
She was pouting. He did not blame her.

“What is in Mississippi, Gary?” Jake was almost afraid to
ask.

“Granville Arms.”

“The gun manufacturer? Why are they that important?”

“A key player in this game will be there. If we eliminate
him, maybe we can slow this down. He is going there to meet the owner of
Granville Arms. We can kill three proverbial birds with one trip. We can
scratch one Viveri member, we can close down their small arms operation, and we
can rescue Giselle.”

“Well, two out of three ain’t bad,” Hallie remarked. She
never turned around.

The hum of the tires and the thrum of the engine were the
only sounds to break the silence of the next forty minutes.  Gary never did
explain his second reason to trust him. It did not matter, Jake was pretty sure
he never would. And he was positive Hallie wouldn’t.

“I
gave her my gun, Mr. President. If she uses it, it can be
traced to me. I cannot...”

“Calvin, don’t get worked up. We will get you another gun
and Hallie will not sully your good name.” Gabriel had to admit he was having
more fun than he had since he was on campaign for state senator in the late
nineties.

With his life on the line and depression pushing in from all
sides, he decided to gamble some with his own life. He had done nothing
illegal, but allowing Hallie and Jake to skip the obligatory briefing,
arraignment, and public scrutiny, Gabriel had exercised his Presidential
privileges. He arranged to have them escape back through the tunnels and picked
up by Dr. Forsythe.

He knew it was a risky venture, but he had to put a lid on
as much of this as he could as quickly as possible. Regrettably, he was privy
to some of the more sensitive information that the Viveri Consortium thought
was completely secret.

For example, he knew about Speaker Rodman and Granville Arms.
He knew who Clarence really was. He was aware of the motives that drove
Clarence to work closely with Komnenos and his brethren. He feigned ignorance
of Andronikus. He preferred to refer to him in his mysterious nomenclature.

He knew about Giselle, even though he pretended he did not.

He wanted to forget that little detail and he hoped that
Jake would never discover it. In Jake’s mind, Gabriel had destroyed his mother
single-handedly. As in most failed marriages, it was hardly that simple. He was
to blame, that was certain, but he shared that burden with Barb.

No. Gabriel was not evil, but he commingled with it. He had
flirted with it. He had been drawn to the bright fires of a neo-revolution of
the truly powerful and the ultra-intelligent hidden regime that had survived
for centuries playing God through lackeys. Their puppetry was masterful and
almost complete. They were purveyors of destruction and heroics. Events and
people that shaped the history of the Western world for the last two millennia
were often manipulated or directly run by their brotherhood.

Hitler was their toy. Castro was their brain child and grand
experiment. Kennedy was their puppet until he had made the grievous error of
courting the enemy. Vietnam was their playground. It was there that they
experimented with the burgeoning economies of the new world and the ripening
technologies of medicine and mechanics, as they tested the possibilities and
atrocities of the wages of modern war.

He knew their secrets. He had been one of them, although
indirectly. And now he must die because he had defied them. He had for a moment
believed that he was above their sick theories. He thought he had found a
better way. He thought he could be an engineer of the enlightenment of which
they had dreamed. However, he had seen that their vision was skewed. It was
perverted and masterfully self-serving.

Mankind was not predominantly unwashed masses. The Viveri
Consortium certainly believed they were. A purge was prepared. The world was on
its precipice and he could feel it.

Therefore, he had made some tentative moves toward bucking
their authority. At first it had been support of humanitarian bills that
allowed for the blurring of the lines between the middle class and the poor. Through
tax incentives and government programs, Gabriel had championed the little guys.
He had helped entrepreneurs get funding and hire staff without penalties for
health care. He had assisted religious and social organizations that dedicated
themselves to reaching out to the poor, homeless, widowed, and orphaned, giving
them unprecedented access to government funds. These organizations had proven
him right by being twice as effective with a third of the budget the federal
government had previously spent on these same causes.

These measures had attracted the attention of the popular
vote. Gabriel was even aware that some of the Viveri puppets had been
emboldened by his audacious moves. They too began to disregard the system they
served. It won him appreciation from embattled Senators, nervous diplomats,
angry lobbyists, and voters. It had helped him win the nomination and a
landslide victory over the incumbent, President Belinda Lowry.

Of course, his new policies and bold moves were not
unanimously popular. Cathy did not support them. She loved him and always gave
him a smile in the morning and snuggled into the same bed with him at night. But
he knew she was unhappy despite the fact that his unorthodox policies were what
had ultimately won him the position that put them at the pinnacle of power. 
She was impressed and grateful, but ultimately frustrated in his rebellious
behavior.

Her family was connected. She had grown up knowing that
someday her family would usurp global power or at least hold someone in sway
enough to shape the world to their liking. She had thought she could influence
him. She had to a point. His defiance and ego disappointed her.

Thinking about Catherine made him consider the man in front
of him closer.  He had his doubts about Calvin. Sometimes he could see that
Calvin was dedicated to protecting the country. However, Gabriel was not
positive that Calvin was completely honest with him. He was rather duplicitous.
It served him fine as director of NATC, but it was also why he could not play
well with others. This lack of trust created an uneasy alliance.

He looked back up and saw Calvin standing with his hands on
his hips.

“Mr. President? Are you alright?” Calvin asked with
absolutely no compassion.

He smiled as warmly as he could.

“Yes. I was just thinking about your proposal. Make it
happen,” Gabriel replied.

He knew that to rid himself of Calvin for the moment, he
should give him what he wanted. Calvin wanted to play war. Cops and robbers. Spy
vs. spy. He wanted to round up some bad guys and blow some stuff up. Every
boy’s dream. After that, perhaps they could go to Nationals Park and hit some 9
^th
inning home runs or to FedEx Field and throw a Hail Mary in the 4
^th
quarter down four points.

He did not begrudge Calvin his opportunities to play hero. In
fact, it was that same influence that had led Gabriel to this point. Sometimes
dreams die in flames. And blood.

“Thank you, sir. I will gather the assets we need to execute
your orders. We can mobilize in twenty four hours. Do I have your authorization
to pull out all the stops?”

“I thought that was what I just did.”

“Of course. I will be in touch.”

“Thank you, Calvin. Please close the door when you leave and
make sure Harold doubles my agents.  This could be a long day.”

“Yes sir.”

Gabriel turned and looked out onto the south lawn again. The
sun was bright and he could see troops escorting citizens from the premises as
they went into shut down mode. A National Guard APC and two old model
Bradley-style fighting vehicles pulled onto E Street.

“Sir, VP Walker to see you,” Sally announced formally.

“Let her in.”

The east door opened and he heard Vivian walk in.

“Are you going to tell me what is going on?”

“You are soon going to be the second female President of the
United States,” he quipped without turning.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Gabriel. I mean your son. The Agency
are interviewing the man that they apprehended in the press room. You should
hear what he is saying, Mr. President.”

“I suppose I should talk to Eilif after all these years.” He
turned and looked at her. She was everything that he was not. That was why he
had put her on the ticket. She was stunning, classy, smart, brave, and loyal. “Barb
and Eilif had an affair and he fathered a child. She thought that she had hid
the pregnancy from me. I chose to let her believe that lie until the day she
died. At the time I was just as promiscuous. Who wasn’t?” Gabriel looked down
at his desk and played with the stitching on the back of his leather chair. “Anyway,
it did not single-handedly ruin our marriage, but it was a poison that would
never go away. And I think Eilif still burns a candle for Barb. Does that sound
accurate?”

She stared at him, her eyes bulging.

“Who are you? I thought I knew you, Gabriel. There has been
some talk on the Hill this morning. Discussion about skeletons in closets. Talk
about global conspiracies and deep corruption. Where did all this come from?”

Gabriel laughed.

“You’ve been talking to Senator Rodman or my Press
Secretary?  Both seem to be running a rumor mill around here.” She stood with
her lips pressed firmly together.  She had not liked his answering a question
with another question. He shrugged. “Corruption has been around for years,
Vivian. We just choose to look the other way. We cannot believe that God
exists, how can we believe that Satan does?”

“You are speaking in riddles again, Gabriel. I need
answers.”

He felt the heat of anger well up in him. He had been
resigned to throw his life at this monster. He had dared to fight it without
allies, without truly understanding its scope, its reach, and its true power. Now,
he was being questioned by someone that he had trusted to support him.

“Remember to whom you speak, Viv,” he warned.

“I don’t know you. Can you tell me who you are and what you
stand for? Maybe then I can fight beside you instead of against you.”

He felt his shoulders slump. He had to come clean. It was
too much to do on his own. Besides, despite what he had said, the odds that
Vivian would be spared were low anyway. She was not Viveri material.

“Your calendar free today?”

She smiled.

“I am all yours.”

“Then have a seat and I will tell you a tale that will curl
your toes.”

“I always enjoy a good horror story. You have any
marshmallows?”

“I’ll have Sally rustle us up some S’mores and coffee. Shut
the door.”