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The Secret Service agents that led Jill Repeth to the Executive Mansion command center were stiffly deferential but Jill knew she was still an outsider, not quite an opponent, almost an enemy. She’d turned half the Presidential detachment into Edens with Needleshock and she’d avoided killing anyone, but it wasn’t their bodies that retained the pain, it was their pride.
She’d made it to within a hair’s breadth of shooting President McKenna, and the fact that he’d wanted to be shot, had wanted the Eden virus, didn’t change a thing in their minds. They’d been lax, had almost failed. Actually had failed, since they’d missed the syringe of Eden Plague she’d left in a pretty box on his desk.
If it had been a bomb, their principal would have been vaporized.
One of the agents motioned her to an empty desk with a computer and then backed away. She had to get a tech to help her set up the call, all the way to South Africa. The internet was generally slow and unreliable since the satellites died, but Presidential priority got her through.
The first face she saw was a most welcome one. “Rick! I’d hoped you were on duty. I’m calling through official channels. It’s...I’m...” She ground to a halt, suddenly overwhelmed. She’d been in Marine mode for so long that now, with strangers all around her and half a world between her and her love, she just couldn’t say what she wanted to. Couldn’t really even put words together.
He smiled, delighted just to see her face. “It’s all right. Do you have a personal phone number where I can reach you?”
“Yes, use Christine Forman’s quarters.” She rattled off the number of the place she had been hiding in plain sight for so long. “Listen, Rick, I...I love you but I’m hogging someone else’s priority line. I just wanted to tell everyone back there that I’m staying.”
Astonishment warred with distress on Rick Johnstone’s visage. “Staying?”
“Yes. The President pardoned me – in fact he pardoned all American citizens who took political and military action against the Unionist regime – and I’m a US Marine. I have to stay. There’s too much to be done.”
His face fell but he nodded gamely. “All right. I can hardly remember America. I was eleven when I left...but I’m sure we can work something out.”
She nodded, emphatic. “Yes, we can and we will. Call me tonight at that number and we’ll talk, all right? I still love you.”
He smiled weakly. “Good to know. A guy’s gotta wonder when his girl keeps going off to war every other week.”
She sighed. “It’s been the same for every warrior since Sparta.”
“With your shield or on it, huh? Okay, I’ll pass the word.”
“Please do. I have to go; I’m getting the stink eye. Bye, sweetheart.” She flipped the webcam cover shut before she said something really stupid. Even stupider than I already did. “I still love you? ”Lame, Jill, and weak.
What she’d said about dirty looks was true and it wasn’t. The techs didn’t care; she thought they might even be enjoying the soap opera. The two agents, however, radiated hostility; doubly so because of what she just said about staying in the US.
Whatever. She got up and mentally put the mantle of the Marine back on, stalking haughtily out, ignoring her two escorts, a lioness attended by sheepdogs. From what I hear, they’ll get theirs soon enough.
