Chapter Thirty-Seven

“We need not fear the expression of ideas—we do need to fear their suppression.” Harry S. Truman

By late the following afternoon, Kate was going stir-crazy. They’d agreed not to contact each other until Gideon heard from Aaron, then they would organize a time and place to meet and plan.

Gideon had been quiet on the drive back; she guessed he’d been deeply moved by the meeting with his brother. She knew they’d been close growing up. Was he contemplating the idea of losing Aaron a second time?

He’d dropped her off at her office, and she hadn’t heard from him since.

She’d spent the day finalizing the plans for assassinating the president at the Smithsonian in two days’ time. Assessing how much help Auspex could be. Gideon had told her to devise the plan based on four people: him, Aaron, and Aaron’s two rebel friends. Not her. Apparently she would be more of a liability than a help. In some ways, she saw his point—she didn’t want to be a liability—but she was still pissed off.

The basic plan was that Auspex would infiltrate the Smithsonian systems and set off a diversionary alarm, which would cause panic and result in the president being hustled off to a safe place. There were several areas that could be shut off by steel barriers coming down. Auspex would take control of these and isolate the president and his immediate bodyguard, shutting them in with Gideon and Aaron and preventing both Harry’s escape and any help from his private army. Hopefully that would improve the odds and they’d kill the slimy bastard.

Auspex would then lift the barriers and Gideon and Aaron would escape.

And they’d all live happily ever after.

Or not.

One thing she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do was ask Auspex the odds of any of them living through this. She didn’t want to know, because she suspected they were very, very low.

She also hadn’t taken off Auspex’s overrides yet. Once or twice she’d nearly typed in the question and asked what would happen if she did, but she’d chickened out at the last minute.

She needed him right now. Couldn’t take the risk that he’d vanish.

Midafternoon, she took a walk to clear her head. She’d only been back a few minutes when there was a light tap on the door. Nothing else happened.

“Come in,” she called out.

The door opened slowly, and Teresa put her head round it. She’d clearly been crying, her eyes red and puffy, her mascara streaked down her cheeks. She came into the room, closing the door behind her, and stood silently, her arms wrapped around her middle.

“Teresa? What is it?” Kate searched her mind for what could have happened, but she came up blank. They couldn’t have been discovered, or else she’d be faced by a whole load of Secret Service agents, not just Teresa. Besides, she wasn’t sure her being arrested would make Teresa cry.

“He’s dead,” she said.

Her mind blanked…and then started racing.

“Who’s dead?”

“The president.”

Everything stopped while her brain processed that. Was it over?

“I remember when he first became president,” Teresa continued. “I was only six years old, and he was going to save the world.”

She exhaled. “You mean the old president?”

“Harry Senior. He was such a lovely man. So charismatic. Now he’s gone. It’s the end of an era.”

It certainly was. Kate rested her head against the back of her chair, her pulse fluttering. For a moment there, a different future had flashed before her eyes, one where she didn’t have to die or lose everyone she loved. It had been…blissful. Unfortunately, it had vanished as fast as it had come.

“What happened?” she asked. She must have missed the announcement while she was on her walk.

“The president—the new one, I mean—went to see his father in the nursing home yesterday. He sent out a report that his father was in good health, was happy about the ceremony in a few days’ time, excited to be part of that. Then he died quietly in his sleep last night.” Teresa sniffed. “I’d been going to go along to the ceremony to see him. Now it’s over.”

“Has the ceremony been canceled?” What the hell were they supposed to do? Time was running out.

Teresa sniffed again. “No. His son made such a moving speech. He was in tears. He said that the ceremony was to honor his father, and that he would do that whether his father was alive or dead.”

“Good.”

That Harry Senior was dead shouldn’t make a difference. The plan should still be viable. Part of her was relieved. The rest…she didn’t know. That brief glimpse of euphoria had left her confused. She’d accepted what she had to do, and then there had been hope, and now that hope was snatched away once again.

“Thank you for telling me,” she said, wishing the woman would leave. She needed to be alone to get herself back in the right frame of mind for martyrdom.

“I just thought you would want to know so you can send your condolences. I’m sure you’ll be invited to the funeral.”

“Maybe.” It would have to be soon.

“I’ll go then. I have other people to see. It’s important that the Party sticks together at a time like this.”

“Thank you. You’re doing a wonderful job.”

Something that might have been doubt flickered in Teresa’s eyes, then she gave a nod and turned and left the room. As the door closed behind her, Kate lowered her head to the cool metal of the desk, trying to ease the ache.

She sat like that for a long time, then slowly straightened.

She should have heard from Gideon by now. And he should have heard from Aaron. The temptation to call him was strong, but that wasn’t the agreement. Maybe Auspex had heard something.

Has there been any chatter about Aaron Frome in the last twenty-four hours?

The answer came immediately.

This afternoon at 15:15, Aaron Frome was arrested with two other people while entering the city on fake papers.

She stared at the words, willing them to disappear or morph into something more acceptable.

Are you sure?

99 percent.

What happened to him?

He is at this moment being questioned by the Secret Service.

Did that mean that Gideon was aware of what had happened?

Do they know who he really is?

They do.

Shit. Was Gideon in trouble? Maybe they’d already arrested him as well. That’s how things happened. You were guilty by association. Panic bubbled inside her, and she forced it down.

Has Gideon been arrested?

No.

Will he be?

There is a 96 percent chance he will be arrested.

When?

The highest probability is tomorrow morning when he goes to work.

Are they watching him?

At this time, the probability is negligible.

Then she still had a chance to warn him. He could run. Get out of the city. There had to be something he could do. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being interrogated again. Her fingers shook as she pressed the number for his office. There was no answer. She glanced at the clock. It was close to seven. Maybe he’d gone home.

She punched in his home number, and this time he picked up. “Gideon Frome.”

“It’s Leia. Meet me in the bar where we first met as soon as possible.” And she put the phone down.

…

Gideon got the taxi to drop him off a mile from the bar. While he didn’t know why Kate had felt the need for the subterfuge, it didn’t bode well. His stomach churned; he should have heard from Aaron by now.

He longed for the days on the Wall when he’d believed he knew who he was fighting.

Boyd was ignoring his calls. The news of Harry Senior’s death had turned the place into turmoil. The Secret Service was heavily involved in organizing the funeral, but, as usual, he’d been sidelined.

The streets were quiet for this early in the evening and the air was heavy with a coming storm. It made his scalp prickle.

Dave nodded to him as he entered the bar. Gideon glanced around and found Kate seated in the same booth they had shared that first time. She’d been a blonde that night. She was staring at the table, gnawing on her lower lip, but she looked up as though sensing his approach and her eyes were huge and filled with sadness.

What the hell had happened?

He slid into the booth opposite her as Dave came up beside him, a glass and a bottle of bourbon in his hand. He placed them on the table in front of Gideon. “Let me know if you need anything else.” As though sensing the atmosphere, he didn’t linger.

Kate had a full glass of white wine in front of her. Her fingers gripped the glass, but she hadn’t touched the drink. Her other hand crept across the tabletop, and he reached over and closed his fingers around hers. Her skin felt cold, almost clammy.

“What is it?” he asked. There was no point in putting this off.

“Aaron was arrested entering the city this afternoon.”

He’d suspected something must have happened. He took a deep breath. “What about his men?”

“Them as well.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“Auspex says they’re being questioned in the cells below the Secret Service building.”

Christ, so he’d been sitting in his office while Aaron was probably being tortured somewhere below him. He released her hand and poured himself a shot of bourbon, swallowed it in one go. Poured another.

“I’m sorry, Gideon.”

“He knew the risk.” But things were going to be far harder without his help. Plus, he’d hoped Aaron would have some idea of how to get their mother out of the city and to safety—if safety even existed anymore. And Kate had had hopes of getting her parents away to somewhere they could hide out. Neither would happen now.

Something else occurred to him. “Do they know who he is?”

She nodded. “You have to get away. Get out of the city. Auspex says they’ll arrest you tomorrow when you arrive at work. You have twelve hours to get away from here.”

For a moment, he considered running. If Aaron had been arrested, then the security must have been increased. They would put a flag out on Gideon’s ID, and there was no way he’d get through the checkpoints. That didn’t mean it was impossible.

Should he go?

He had no doubt that Harry was capable of setting off a nuclear device in one of his own cities, but maybe most of the country would survive. There was no guarantee the Russians would start a war.

So why not leave, get the hell out of here? Try and make the world a better place from the outside? There had to be a way. Maybe they could somehow stop the nuclear attack. There were others out there working against the Party, fractured groups that needed uniting in a common cause. They could take their proof—the file Stella had given them—and they could fight on. And if they failed, then they could help in the fallout.

He’d been staring into his glass of bourbon. Now he raised his head and looked into Kate’s eyes. Silver with just the slightest hint of blue, like the sky on a winter’s day. “I’ll go if you come with me.”

Shock flared in her eyes. He didn’t believe she hadn’t thought about it herself. She glanced away, wouldn’t hold his gaze. “You know I can’t.”

Anger and frustration rose inside him, threatening to choke off his breath. “Why?”

“Because the only way to stop this is if someone kills Harry.”

“You really believe that?”

“You know I do.”

“And there’s no one else who can do it?”

She shrugged helplessly.

There was no way she could do it alone. Hell, if it came down to it, even if she had a gun in her hand and nothing between them, he wasn’t sure she could go through with it.

“Maybe you could hide out somewhere and help me?” she said.

He considered it for all of about five seconds. “I won’t get anywhere near Harry. There’ll be a warrant out for my arrest. Every law enforcement agency in the city will be hunting for me.” There was another thing. “How long do you think it will be before they come for you? They know we’ve been seeing each other. It’s only a matter of time. Do you really think they’re going to let you walk into the Smithsonian and calmly kill the president?”

“They might. There’s no official connection between us.”

He snorted. “Boyd saw us together. So did the president. You’ll be locked up by tomorrow night, probably next door so I can hear you scream. How do you think you’ll manage under torture?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded small. He was being a complete bastard, but he had to convince her somehow.

“Come away with me. We’ll warn my mother, your parents. I’m betting they have contingency plans in case anything goes wrong. We’ll get out of the city and stop this thing another way.”

“There is no other way.”

“Goddammit!” He smashed his fist down on the table. Liquid spilled over her glass.

She reached across and rested her hand on top of his. “I’m sorry.” She blinked, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You know I told myself not to care for you, that it would muddle things up, make everything harder. And you know what? I was right. It hurts, and the thought of you being tortured scares me more than it happening to me. That doesn’t change anything. I know you don’t believe in Auspex. But I do. I can’t walk away.”

He’d known all along who she was. There was a core of steel inside her that would bend but would never break. He put his other hand over hers and they sat in silence for long minutes while he accepted that this was the end.

She was going to do this, and short of knocking her out and hiding her away, there was nothing he could do to stop her. Everything inside him hurt. He supposed that was good practice for what was to come.

He blew out his breath. “You need to turn me in.”

She frowned. “What?”

“You have to stay free or you can do fuck all to help anyone, never mind mankind.” Who, he was beginning to believe, didn’t really deserve helping. “As things are, they’re going to come after you pretty fast. So you have to make them believe there’s no reason. That you’re a good little Party member. Ready to do your duty even if that means handing over your boyfriend.”

“I don’t want to.”

“They’re going to get me anyway because I’m not running away and leaving you behind. I might evade them for a day or so, but they’ll get me eventually.”

“I hate this. It’s not fair. It—” She dashed a hand over her face. Then took a deep breath. He could see her gathering herself together. She was such a mixture of strength and vulnerability. “What should I do?”

“You need to call Boyd. You tell him that you believe I’m a traitor.” He thought for a few seconds. What would be most convincing? Aaron’s arrest hadn’t been made common knowledge, so they wouldn’t expect her to have heard about it. “Tell him that you overheard a phone conversation. That you believe I was talking about my brother and that you think I might be working with the rebels.”

“Will he believe me?”

“There’s no reason not to.” What would keep her safe? “Tell him that you’re scared. That you think I know you suspect me, and you’re in danger. Tell him you’re going to lie low until I’m locked away. Make sure you sound panicked, scared.”

“That shouldn’t be hard.” She swallowed. “Won’t they take me in anyway?”

“Maybe. Probably not until they have me in custody. If I found out, it might make me run. They don’t want that. Don’t go home.”

“Is this the only way?”

“Yes.” He forced a smile. “On the bright side, maybe you’ll succeed. You’ll kill the president and overthrow the government. You’ll save America—and me as well.”

“And we’ll live happily ever after.”

He didn’t believe that for one moment, and he suspected that neither did she. This was the end.