Authors: Traci Hunter Abramson
Chapter 3
The weeklong World Trade Summit had concluded several days before, but such events held no importance for the two figures clad completely in black. Soundlessly, they slipped through the darkness outside the gates of the US Embassy in Meridia. Thick clouds overhead blocked any light the moon might have provided, and together they ducked behind the row of cars parked along the street.
Security cameras were perched in several strategic locations on the outside of the building, but they were blind to the two stealthy figures. The security guards inside would see nothing but darkness and parked cars. At least, they would see nothing until it was too late.
A dog barked in the distance, causing them both to slow for a moment. Once satisfied that the animal was not a threat, they continued on in their hunched-over positions. The person in the lead came to a stop behind the car that had been chosen hours earlier, a car that had the size and positioning for their objective.
Squatting down, they unloaded the contents of their backpacks and went to work. Several minutes later, one of them reached under the car and activated the bomb that would send their message to the world.
* * *
Prince Garrett Fortier walked down the cavernous hallway of the palace, his footsteps sounding on the tile floor. His ancestral home had been standing for over four hundred years, and, at its core, the palace remained very much the same as it had been at the time of its construction. Generations of Fortiers had ruled from this palace and would continue to do so for generations to come.
From the windows on the west side, Garrett could see the ruins of the castle that had housed his ancestors throughout the Middle Ages. The demise of the castle had come in 1598, when the French civil wars had spilled over into Meridia. Garrett hesitated a moment before turning his gaze from the ruins. A fight for religious freedom had been the underlying cause of the destruction of the grand structure and had nearly forced his family from power.
He thought of Janessa, remembering the brief battle she had waged in defense of her own religious freedom. He had been so tempted to confide in her about his plans. She had seemed so unassuming, and he sensed she could be trusted. Still, his upbringing had taught him not to trust easily, and ultimately he hadn’t been willing to risk sharing confidences with a woman he barely knew.
His inquiry about Janessa’s availability to work on his protection detail in Caracas had revealed that she had returned to the United States. He hoped that a country that boasted of so many liberties wouldn’t penalize one of its citizens for exercising her religious beliefs, but the fact remained that Janessa was no longer in Venezuela.
His impression of Janessa during their brief time together was that she would fight for her rights regardless of the consequences. Deliberately lifting his chin, Garrett knew he had to follow her example.
Ignoring the nerves balled in his stomach, Garrett turned the corner toward his father’s office. Whether or not he could make his father understand his own need for religious freedom, he had to at least take a stand. He knew the risks, and he understood the weight of his decision. He would be the first in the family to leave the Meridian Church to embrace another in over a thousand years.
Anticipating the battle to come, Garrett ran a hand through his thick, black hair. He had arrived from Caracas only two days before and already he felt crowded by the heavy security and the constant presence of the household staff. His three years attending law school at George Washington University in DC had given him a taste of what he often craved but rarely attained: privacy and freedom.
He had enjoyed the duality of his life in the states, both the endless variety of his official duties and those moments he had managed to blend in with the crowd. His best friend and study partner, Tim O’Donnell, had given him a glimpse of middle-class America and so much more—he had given him a Book of Mormon.
Garrett had started reading the book out of curiosity, more because of his fascination with history than any desire to find religious significance. He couldn’t say that he had ever been very religious in the past, never having found the need for such things, but many passages of the Book of Mormon seemed familiar, as though he had read them before.
The sense of discontentment he had always struggled with had melted away, but he didn’t recognize the source of the change. When Tim got married at the end of their first year of law school, Garrett had been shocked and angry to find that he wasn’t allowed to attend the wedding inside the temple. While he was waiting in the shadows of the temple, his temper faded and he realized that it was the first time anyone aside from his parents had told him he couldn’t do something.
Ironically, being subjected to rules that made no allowances for his royal status gave Garrett a new respect and admiration for the Mormon Church. He soon found himself asking Tim more and more questions. The religious discussions they shared sparked something in Garrett, and before long he became a regular fixture at Tim’s house each Sunday. On occasion he even managed to attend sacrament meeting with Tim without being tailed by the paparazzi.
Garrett continued to read the Book of Mormon and slowly came to terms with the understanding he found within its pages. His conversion had been so gradual he had hardly realized it was happening, and when Tim had challenged him to be baptized, panic had shot through him. Despite his newfound understanding of the gospel, his choice was anything but simple. Would his family still permit him to function as part of the royal family if he chose baptism into the Mormon Church?
As demanding as his duties could be at times, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to function as a royal. He had enjoyed his independence while in the United States, but he knew that he could never live life as an ordinary man. He hadn’t been born one. He wasn’t destined to rule Meridia, but he would always be expected to play an active part in the politics and protection of his country. In truth, he wouldn’t want it any other way.
He was still amazed by how subtle his conversion to the gospel had been, just as he was surprised at how much he wanted it to be a part of his life. As the time to return home had drawn closer, Garrett had started contemplating what he would do if his father denied him what he so dearly wanted. For the first time in his life, he knew he was prepared to go against not only his father’s wishes, but against the king’s.
The door to his father’s office was open when he arrived, and his older brother Stefano was seated inside. Though it was barely nine o’clock, the paperwork in front of Stefano indicated that he and their father were already several hours into their work day. Not for the first time, Garrett was grateful he wasn’t the eldest. As heir to the throne, Stefano was already entrenched in the everyday affairs of Meridia, from military concerns to the country’s diplomatic corps.
Hoping to speak to all of his family at once, Garrett asked, “Where’s mother?”
“She is visiting down at the hospital.” King Eduard Fortier IV glanced up at Garrett. “A car bomb went off outside of the US Embassy here this morning. At least a dozen people were injured, and one of the embassy drivers was killed.”
Tension settled quickly on Garrett’s shoulders. “Do we know who’s behind it?”
“No one has come forward to claim responsibility, but we think it must be terrorists.”
“The United States has long been a prime target.” Garrett sat in one of the chairs opposite his father. “And our negotiations with the US, allowing them to build a naval base here, have caused a lot of tension—perhaps some extremists among the opposition are now resorting to violence.”
“Unfortunately, there’s more. The threats against our family have also increased over the past two weeks.” Eduard lifted a paper off of his desk and handed it to Garrett. “This is a copy of the threat we received this morning.”
Garrett looked at the page and read the note:
Keep the US out of Meridia, or a member of the royal family will die.
The words appeared to be cut out of the local newspaper. Just below the message was a news photo of the king, his head cut off of the photo and pasted at his feet. Garrett looked up at his father, unwilling to think of him as anything but invincible.
Stefano spoke up. “Surely you aren’t concerned with a security breach here at the palace.”
Eduard shook his head. “The palace, no, but I do worry about the chateau. The summer gala is less than two months away. We need to fortify our security there before the gala takes place.”
“Can we move the gala here to the palace?” Garrett asked.
“The economic reports have not been good over the past few years. Bellamo needs the gala to help stir its tourism industry,” Eduard told him. “We must act quickly against these terrorists to show the world once and for all that terrorism will not be tolerated in Meridia.”
“What can we do that hasn’t already been done?” Garrett asked.
Stefano spoke now. “Father, I think you need to consider the proposal from the Americans.”
“What proposal?” Garrett looked from his brother to his father.
Eduard straightened slightly in his chair. “The United States has offered some of their military and intelligence officers to help us investigate the bombing and maintain security while we finish negotiations for the naval base.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Garrett asked. “They have enough to worry about, trying to provide security at their own embassy.”
“Regardless, they have offered to help. And since our alliance may be the source of these latest problems, I think it best to allow them a limited presence here while the negotiations are completed.” Eduard handed a file to Garrett. “Garrett, I want you to oversee the security and preparations for the gala.”
Garrett’s eyebrows lifted. “Father, I’m hardly equipped to meet with florists and caterers.”
Though Garrett had been speaking to his father, Eduard’s sharp tone told Garrett that Eduard was responding as the king. “I need someone I trust to ensure your mother’s safety.”
“Of course, Father.” Garrett’s voice was immediately respectful, even as he noted that as the second son, his safety was of lesser importance to the royal family.
“I will find someone to help oversee the hostess duties, but I want you at the chateau, where you are easily accessible to Martino,” Eduard continued, referring to the chateau manager.
Garrett nodded and stepped toward the door. “I’ll go meet with our chief of security and inform him that I’ll be staying at the chateau.”
As Garrett left the room, he thought of the Book of Mormon in his nightstand drawer. He suppressed his frustration that he had been unable to share his new understanding with his family. It wouldn’t be an easy subject to broach, and considering the possible outcomes, Garrett didn’t feel good about adding any more drama to the king’s already long list of stresses. Once again he wondered if he really could balance duty with religion.
* * *
Tim O’Donnell checked his watch for the third time in as many minutes. He had already completed the first two phases of applying for the FBI, and he was now anxiously awaiting the phone call that would tell him if he was headed on to the next phase.
Tim had spent two years as a police officer in Maryland before deciding to go to law school. During his first year, he had considered pursuing a career as a prosecutor in the hopes of helping keep criminals off of the streets. By the time he had reached his third year, he’d realized he wanted to get back into law enforcement. With his police experience and his new law degree, he now hoped to fulfill his secret lifetime dream of becoming an agent for the FBI. The woman he had spoken with the day before had assured him that he should expect a call by the end of the work day.
The front door opened, distracting him momentarily. His wife, Lauren, stepped through with a bag of groceries in each arm.
“Let me get those.” Tim crossed the room to relieve his wife’s burden. “You shouldn’t be lifting so much.”
Lauren rubbed a hand over her newly expanding stomach. “I promise you that when this little guy arrives, I’ll let you do all of the grocery shopping for a month.”
“Just one month?” Tim teased.
“Okay, maybe two.” Lauren sat down in a living room chair and watched Tim set the bags on the kitchen counter. “Have you heard anything yet?”
“Not yet.” Tim shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t get accepted.”
“You could always go back to being a cop,” Lauren suggested with a shrug.
Tim looked up and grinned at his wife. “Or I could be a lawyer.”
“Even worse,” Lauren teased just as the phone rang.
He plucked it up, praying for good news. To his surprise, his friend Garrett was on the other end instead of his potential employer.
“Hey, Garrett.” Tim opened the refrigerator to put the cheese away. “Did you tell your parents yet?”
“I’m afraid that conversation won’t be happening in my near future,” Garrett told him. “My duties have taken an unexpected turn.”
“In what way?” Tim asked, and Garrett relayed the conversation he had had with his father and brother that morning.
“I’m sorry about the embassy—I didn’t realize it would impact you directly. I heard about it earlier today,” Tim told him before redirecting the conversation once more. “You don’t think your parents will really disown you for joining the Church, do you?”
“I don’t know.” A hint of anxiety came over the line. “I like to think they’ll accept it, but it’s hard to say. If it does come to that, at least I spent the past few years learning to live as a commoner.”
Tim started to disagree but decided he would let Garrett keep his illusions that he understood what real life was like for most people. Instead he said, “All I can suggest is that you keep praying about it.”
“Yeah,” Garrett agreed and then promptly changed the subject. “Anyway, I just wanted to warn you about what’s going on over here. I wasn’t sure if you and Lauren would still want to come for the gala, especially now that she’s expecting.”