Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Nothing brings out the lower traits of human nature like office seeking.” Rutherford B. Hayes

Kate took a deep breath, picked up her glass, and drank it down in one go. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone.

“Wait,” Gideon said. “Let me leave first. That way, if they interview anyone in the bar, it will tie in with the timing.”

“I don’t want you to go.” She hated the tremor in her voice. But she was quite aware that she would very likely never see him again. She had to be strong. There was no one to do this but her.

“I know.” He pushed himself to his feet. She stood as well. He came around the table. Halting in front of her, he cupped his hands around her cheeks, lowered his head, and kissed her. The kiss was slow and sweet and everything she had ever dreamed about with this man. She gave in, wrapped her arms around him under his jacket, laid her head against his chest, felt the thud of his heart beneath her cheek.

Finally he pulled away, dropped a kiss on her forehead. With his back to the room, he reached beneath his jacket and a second later, she felt him slip his gun into the waistband at the back of her pants. A shudder ran through her as the cool metal touched her skin. Then he turned without another word and walked away.

She watched until the door closed behind him, trying to imprint him in her memory. Then she sank down in the seat and stared, seeing nothing. Someone came to a halt by her shoulder. The barman, Dave, with a full glass of white wine. “You look like you need this.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

She forced a smile. “No. I’m fine, thank you.”

He studied her for a minute, then gave a nod and left her to it. She sat for a while longer, then gave a sigh and pulled her cell phone from her purse. For a minute, she couldn’t physically make herself move.

Get a grip.

She gritted her teeth and punched in a number. “Can I speak to Boyd Winters, please?”

“Your business?”

“My name is Kate Buchanan. I wish to talk to him about Gideon Frome.”

While she waited to be connected, Kate’s gaze roamed around the bar, which was filling up. Everything appeared so…normal. Was D.C. like an island in a country sinking into darkness? She doubted there would be many people frequenting the bars in Culpepper tonight. Her gaze caught on the barman, who was watching her. He raised an eyebrow, but she glanced away.

Her mind screamed that she should race after Gideon. Then they should run as fast as they could. Auspex could be wrong. But she didn’t believe it. Which meant that, if they ran, they had no future, and neither did anyone else they knew. Before she could think anymore, she was put through.

“Hello?” She recognized the voice from the other night. Gideon’s boss. Time to be convincing.

“Mr. Winters? I’m Kate Buchanan. We met the other night at the White House.”

“I remember, Ms. Buchanan. You were with Gideon Frome. How can I help you?”

“It’s Gideon I want to talk to you about. I think I might be in trouble.”

“In what way?”

“I think Gideon is working with the rebels.”

There was silence for a moment. “Are you aware of the implications of what you’re saying, Ms. Buchanan?”

“Of course I am. You know whose daughter I am?”

“I do.”

“I won’t have my family brought down by association. Not like Gideon’s was. Besides, he’s a security risk. My loyalty will always be to the Party.”

“Very admirable.”

Was he being sarcastic? Did he believe her? How could she convince him? “Mr. Winters, I’m scared. I think he knows I suspect him.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“He asked me to meet him tonight, and he got a call. I could tell it was bad news, even though he’d moved away. He was angry, upset, his voice rising so I couldn’t help but hear. He mentioned his brother’s name, asked how the hell had it happened. He never talks about Aaron.” She bit her lip, wondering what else she could say. “Afterward, he must have realized I’d been listening. He asked me. I said I hadn’t heard anything, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in a bar on 15th Street. It’s busy. Gideon wanted me to go home with him. I said no. I thought I’d be safer here. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Stay there. I’ll get someone to pick you up. We’ll keep you safe.”

She shook her head, not that Boyd could see her. “No way. Gideon hinted that he has people in the Secret Service working for him. And others. He could be listening to this call for all I know.”

“Unlikely. Do you have any names?”

“No. I’d tell you if I did. I’m loyal to the Party and I really thought Gideon was as well. But underneath, he’s angry. He wants revenge for his father. I think he might do anything.”

“You should let us take care of you.”

“No. I’m going to go to a hotel, hide out until you get him. You will arrest him, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Ms. Buch—”

She cut off the call before she could hear anymore. She realized she was crying, tears rolling silently down her cheeks. Keeping the phone clamped in her hand, she stood, then hurried across the busy floor, eyes down, weaving her way through the drinkers. Finally, she was outside, and she gulped in the fresh air. She had to get away; she couldn’t be sure that Boyd Winters wouldn’t send someone to pick her up. She doubted he would expend much energy on trying to find her. If she had been convincing. She headed away from the bar at a fast walk, aware of the gun tucked into her pants. Christ, she’d never shot a gun in her life. After cutting down an alleyway that led to the street running parallel, she jumped on a bus going in the opposite direction.

She was deliberately not thinking about Gideon.

Her phone was still gripped in her hand, and she stared at it, then pulled out the card and the battery. She put the card on the floor and crushed it under her foot, brushing away the pieces with her toe. The battery she pushed down the back of the seat. Then she slipped the phone back into her bag.

When she got off the bus, she walked for a while before getting on another that took her back into the city. This time, she got off on Connecticut Avenue and headed to her office. The place was quiet at this time of night, just a single officer at the security check. He waved her through, and she took the stairs to the basement.

She had a couple of things she needed to do.

First, she phoned her parents on the secure line. Her dad picked up.

“Dad, it’s Kate. I can’t talk for long, but I need you to listen.”

“Kate, what’s—”

“Just listen to me. It’s important. Stella’s death wasn’t an accident.”

“You don’t—”

“I know it, Dad,” she said, her tone fierce. “The president had her murdered.”

“Why?”

“You know why. And he had Oliver murdered. He has this list, they were on it, and so is Mom.”

“What? Why?”

“Does he need a reason? My guess is that she made her feelings too clear at the funeral. Harry doesn’t like not to be loved. But there’s more. Something bad is going down. I’m involved, and there’s no way out. If you have any contingency plan to get to safety, to hide out, then do it.”

“What’s happening, Katie?”

He called her by her childhood name and it almost broke her. “Something only I can stop.”

“How can we help?”

“You can’t. Only by staying safe.”

“I’m sorry. We let you down. Both of you.”

She knew he meant Stella, and he was right. But it was too late to change the decisions of the past. “You did what you thought was right, but he has to be stopped.”

“You really think you can do it?”

“I hope so. I think so. I have help.” Except she didn’t anymore, and she had no clue how she was going to manage without Gideon.

The silence was loud, finally she heard him exhale. “We have somewhere we can go. How long?”

“Two days, then you’ll know. If I don’t succeed, it doesn’t matter anyway. Tell Mom I love her.” And she ended the call.

Now for the next thing. She switched on her system. The screens flooded with chatter. There was a lot going on tonight. She ignored it and started typing.

Auspex, do you believe you’re a good person?

I am not a person at all.

No. But are you good?

I cannot be bad.

Close enough.

She worked fast, stripping out the overrides that controlled Auspex, taking down the firewalls that kept him contained. She pressed the last key.

She waited for a response. But the screen went dead.

Are you there? she typed.

Nothing.

She couldn’t afford to wait any longer. If the Secret Service wanted to find her, all they had to do was check the security log to know she was here. She loaded all the details of the plan onto her tablet, shoved it in her bag, and rose to her feet.

“Auspex,” she spoke to the empty room, “if you’re there. I’m sorry. I was scared. But I trust you now. More than I trust anyone else.”

Still nothing.

She closed the door behind her and headed out.

Half an hour later, she let herself into Stella’s apartment and collapsed on the bed.

She hadn’t realized how much she had come to rely on Auspex’s presence. Tonight, she’d lost not only the man she was coming to care deeply for, but the closest thing to a friend she’d ever had. And it was a computer. How sad.

Somehow, from somewhere, she had to find the strength to go on.

…

Gideon didn’t know how much time he had. Kate would have made the phone call by now. Would that make them change their plans? Or would they still pick him up as he entered the office tomorrow?

As his car pulled up outside his house, he was aware of a black SUV parked a few houses down.

They were watching him.

He half expected to be stopped as he crossed the road and climbed the steps to the front door of the townhouse he shared with his mother. Just the thought of her made his stomach clench. He could see no way to save her, and she’d already been through so much. He’d checked the news, and there was nothing about Aaron yet, which was odd. But again, maybe they wanted him in custody first. Especially if Kate had made her phone call.

“Mom,” he called out as he closed the front door behind him. He’d resolved that he had to tell her. She deserved to know what was happening and why. Maybe she’d make the decision and try to run, or maybe they wouldn’t come after her at all.

She was seated on the sofa in the living room in a black dress. She rarely wore any other color since his father’s death. She was a beautiful woman, even now with the ravages of time and a life gone to chaos, that beauty hadn’t left her.

She glanced up as he closed the door behind him, and he knew something had happened. Her eyes were clear, but full of sadness…and acceptance.

A bottle of red wine sat on the table in front of her, two empty glasses beside it.

“I was hoping you’d be back,” she said. “Come have a drink with me.”

He’d never known his mother to drink. Not through his childhood or since he got back from the army.

Gideon crossed the room and sank down onto the leather sofa. She reached across with a steady hand and poured them both a glass of wine. After handing one to him, she picked up her own and raised it in a toast.

“To President Harry Coffell Junior, may he rot in hell,” she said, swallowing the wine in one gulp.

He’d never heard her say anything against the administration, not even after his father had died. Not at the funeral, when Gideon had already been wearing his army uniform and was about to be shipped out. Now he watched her warily.

She smiled. He hadn’t seen her smile in so long that an ache started in his chest. “Aren’t you going to drink?” she asked.

He raised his glass and took a sip, watching as she poured herself another full glass.

“What’s happened, Mom?”

She looked at him over the rim of her glass. “Your brother called me.”

“Aaron?”

She tutted. “Do you have another brother?”

Gideon put his glass down. “When?”

“Earlier today. He told me he was about to be arrested. That he was sorry for how much he’d hurt me. Was no doubt going to hurt me again.”

That must have been just before they’d caught him. He hadn’t heard the details, but presumably something must have gone wrong at one of the checkpoints. Maybe they’d made a run for it and Aaron had had time to call their mother before he was taken. What had he been after? Redemption?

“He said to tell you that he was sorry he couldn’t help. Sorry he’d messed up all those years ago.”

“He didn’t mess up. He did what he had to do.”

“He was always such a good boy,” she murmured. “You both were. I don’t know what went wrong.”

“Harry Coffell.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Is Aaron still alive?”

“I believe so, but I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything.”

“They don’t trust you?”

“No.”

“Presumably with good cause.” She drank some more wine. “I’m glad. Some things are not worth living for. Better to die.”

Well, that was likely going to happen.

“You haven’t done very well with your family, have you?” She reached across and patted his leg. “We’ve all let you down.”

“You never let me down.”

“I think I’m about to.” She put down her glass and reached into her pocket, pulling out a small glass prescription bottle. He took it from her, read the label. Sleeping tablets. It was empty, and suddenly he wanted to cry. He picked up his wine and sipped it slowly while he pulled himself together. He had a brief notion to call an ambulance, but to what purpose? Save her for what? To watch her sons die? To maybe be questioned herself? She’d been through that once, no doubt she knew what the future held. Could he blame her for taking this way out?

This felt like his failure. He should have done something sooner. Anything.

“I’m sorry,” his mother said, “but I can’t go through that again. I can’t watch Aaron die. You die. Are they coming for you?”

He nodded.

“You could run.”

“I’m through running. And there are reasons, but maybe there’s hope. There are people out there, people like Aaron, willing to risk their lives.”

He put down his glass and slid his hand into hers. He didn’t know how long it took, but he sat still as her eyes drifted closed and her breathing slowed and finally stopped. Still he didn’t move. He wondered where Kate was. What she was doing.

Finally, he pulled free. His mother had a small smile on her face and looked at peace.

Maybe he should go find some sleeping pills of his own, but he knew he wouldn’t take them. The rage was building inside him with nowhere to go.

He strode to the wall and punched his fist into the concrete.

Then he took the seat opposite his mother and waited for morning.