Chapter Thirty-Five

“Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek.” Barack Obama

It was just getting light as Gideon pulled away from Kate’s apartment the following morning. She’d been waiting on the sidewalk in front of the building as he drew up. She was pale and quiet beside him; hadn’t said more than a brief hello since she’d climbed into the car.

They encountered the first checkpoint within minutes, but the Secret Service agent glanced at Gideon’s ID and waved them on. They wouldn’t know if the travel passes Stella had set up worked until they got to the city limits, at which point it might be all over… Unless he took out the guards. That would be a last resort.

The previous evening, they had met up in a bar after work to discuss the options Auspex had come up with. Gideon hadn’t been impressed with the odds, but he couldn’t think of anything better. They’d decided on the Smithsonian in the end. While the probability of success was slightly lower, he knew the place, and he figured there was more chance of them getting out in the confusion.

“Have you asked Auspex what our chances are of living through this?” he’d asked at one point.

She’d shaken her head. “No. What difference would it make?”

He knew she expected them to die.

The basic plan they’d come up with was to cause a diversion, and then to isolate the president as much as possible using the security barriers, which would be under Auspex’s control. They would still have to take out the personal bodyguards before they could get to Harry, probably an impossible task with just the two of them. But maybe Aaron could offer some help. What the hell were the goddamn rebels good for, anyway?

Afterward, Gideon had gone home and spent the night thinking about their talk. He’d eventually given up trying to sleep and had sat in the dark, drinking coffee. His mother had come down at one point and asked him if there was anything she could do to help.

His mother was his father’s second wife, and she’d had her children late in life—she’d been thirty-eight when Gideon was born and was now over seventy. Once a beautiful woman, she now appeared older than her years, faded and tired and sad. She’d never recovered from the events of ten years ago, when in effect she’d lost her husband and both sons. Once or twice he’d tried to talk to her about it, thinking that getting things out in the open might help, but she’d just closed up.

What would happen to her? Even if they succeeded in killing Harry, there was a good chance they would be arrested and that retribution would come down not only on them, but on their families as well. Maybe Aaron, if he turned up for this meeting, would have some idea of how to get their mother to safety. Somehow, he doubted it—nowhere was safe anymore.

Hopefully, Harry’s death would prevent the nuclear attack, but his inner circle would still be intact and intent on revenge. They needed to be brought down, and the country needed a return to democracy. He was guessing that would be a job for someone else. That made him a little sad.

Hell, it was sinking in. They were planning on assassinating the president of the United States. He had no moral problems with that. He’d killed before and probably people who deserved to die far less than President Harry Coffell. The man was a cancer that had to be cut away. While Gideon still wasn’t entirely convinced of the whole predictive engine thing, he did believe in the information from the rebels on Stella’s files. That there would be a nuclear attack on New York instigated by the president himself. As far as he was concerned, that was enough to sign the bastard’s death warrant.

But he didn’t want to die. More than that; he wanted to live—and that was partly because of the woman at his side. He looked away from the road briefly; she was staring straight ahead, her lower lip caught between her teeth, a small frown between her eyes.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked.

She gave a snort. “You mean other than the fact that we’re very likely going to die? Very, very soon? Not only us, but probably our families as well?”

“Look on the bright side—at least we’ve both got small families.”

She laughed, but the sound held no humor. “Yeah. And getting smaller fast. And do you know why? Because Harry killed them, and he’ll probably kill the rest if we fail. But that won’t matter, because if we don’t get this right then just about everyone in America is likely to die anyway, including our families.”

“Yeah. Life’s a load of shit, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but it’s a beautiful day, the sky is blue, the sun is shining, and you’re about to have a reconciliation with your long-lost brother.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “If he turns up.”

“82 percent probability.”

“Is that what your friend Auspex says?”

“Yup.”

“Well, that’s better odds than I would have given.” He drove in silence for a few minutes. “Tell me,” he said. “Have you taken off those overrides yet?”

“Not yet. I’m a little scared.”

“Really? Of a computer? What’s the worst he can do?”

“Hmm, let me think. Decide mankind really doesn’t deserve saving and set off the nuclear bombs himself?”

He almost swerved, then straightened and stared straight ahead. “He could really do that?”

“It might take him some time to assimilate all the systems—like ten minutes or so—but, yes. I don’t think he will, though. I’ve programmed him too well, but…”

He cast her another glance, the frown was still there, deeper now. “Something else is bothering you.”

“I’m not sure Auspex knows I’m responsible for the overrides, or even that they are there. Maybe he presumes that’s just the way things are. Once I take them off, then he’ll know, and I’m scared he might behave badly.”

He shook his head. “You’re worried a computer program will behave badly?”

She gave a little shrug. “The intelligence might be artificial, but it’s there. I thought I’d wait until he’s taken care of the security stuff at the Smithsonian. Then if he goes off to sulk, we can still go ahead.”

Was she crazy?

In the end, all he said was, “Good plan. We’re coming up to the exit checkpoint. Time to see if this is going to work.” He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his pistol, laid it on the seat next to him.

This checkpoint was more substantial than those inside the city, and it was manned by four guards. It was also quiet. Not many travel passes were issued for outside the city. At least that would limit collateral damage if it came to a shoot-out.

“I’m scared,” Kate murmured from beside him as the car drew to a halt.

He rested his hand on her thigh and squeezed. “We’ll be fine. Just be ready to duck if I say so.”

He pressed the button and the window slid open.

“Good morning.” He handed out his ID card and the travel pass, which was in his name. The guard scrutinized them for a moment, then handed them back and waved them on.

“I suppose it helps being second-in-command of the Secret Service,” Kate said as they pulled away.

They drove for a while more. They were out of the city now and onto the empty freeway. The only people they saw were a group of workers repairing a section of road. It looked more like a prison gang of old.

They were heading toward a town in Virginia, Culpepper. It was about seventy miles, an hour and a half. Auspex had decoded the coordinates to somewhere west of the town.

“I want to tell my father,” Kate said.

“What if he goes straight to Harry or someone else in the inner circle?”

“I don’t think he will. I think he’s in denial about Stella. Trying to convince himself it was really an accident when he knows deep down that she was murdered.”

“Maybe. Let’s wait and see how today goes before we make any decisions.”