Nation of Enemies (25 page)

 

October, 2032

 

Chapter 52

A
S
NIGHT
BURNS
into morning, Sebastian rides his bike aimlessly through the outskirts of Boston. Faces, theories, and memories have kept sleep at bay lately. He's numb. Confused. And the rush of the air, the sheer speed he can reach on the empty streets, is invigorating.

Last night Renner didn't show at their meeting place. Despite numerous attempts, Sebastian hasn't been able to reach him. It's unlike Renner. He needs to brainstorm with his partner. Get his take on things.

They need to dig deeper into Mitchell's accusation that the government orchestrated the State House attack and Gardiner's assassination. And Kate's murder. But is it just an accusation? It's in-­line with Renner's theory that ties the nickname Dash to Carter Benson, then to President Clark, along with Richard Hensley. But it goes against Sebastian's gut that Mitchell is behind everything. It's dizzying.

Suddenly, he realizes where he's going. Two lefts, a right. Past streetlights and buildings. He can't get there fast enough. Before he knows it, he sees the apartment building, hoists the bike over his shoulder and runs through the front door, up the three flights of stairs. He unstraps his helmet and knocks. The door opens.

“Will?” Taylor wears a T-­shirt and boxers, her hair messy from sleep.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“I don't know.”

“Come in.”

Behind the closed door, he sets his bike against the wall, tosses his helmet over it. Then he cups her face in his hands and takes her in. Her furrowed brow softens. Everything that's been building in him comes out now and he can hardly control himself. He peels off his sweat-­soaked shirt and realizes he's wearing his skins. She doesn't seem to care or think twice. She peels the skins off him, runs her hands over his bare chest. Thoughts dissipate, he is right here, fully in the moment. She leads him into her bedroom. Light leaks in through the shades, the air smells of citrus. Her touch unravels him, makes him want her, need her more. They slam against the wall, moving blindly, falling onto the bed. Their eyes connect and she smiles, full and happy, as he's never seen her before. And he wishes more than anything it could last.

A
FEW
HO
URS
later Sebastian and Taylor sit together in a pew at Patriot's Church. He hasn't heard a word of Mitchell's sermon. All he can think about is Renner. What if Renner told Satterwhite his hunch about Dash being in the government? Sweat coats his palms and he rubs them against his pant legs, pressing the one with the tattoo harder, as though he might be able to rub it off. He needs to find his partner.

Mitchell says the blessing and the congregation stands, moving through the aisles toward the exits. Sebastian and Taylor are propelled along with the crowd into the main hall.

“Want some coffee?” She slips her arm through his and nods at the line forming in front of large coffee urns. Her touch still surprises him, though they've been together for hours now.

There's nothing to be learned here in Mitchell's public facade. “Let's go to a café. There's a great one in District 19.”

“Perfect.” Taylor checks her watch. “Sienna's with her sitter for another ­couple hours.”

“Sebastian?” From somewhere in the crowd a man is calling his name. His real name. There must be other Sebastians in the room, though. “Sebastian.” The tone is insistent, the voice familiar. He looks over Taylor's shoulder.
Shit. Oh shit
. He scans the room for the closest exit, but there are so many ­people there's not a clear path. What the hell is Cole doing here?

“Is something wrong?” she asks.

“No, just thirsty.”

“Sebastian.” Cole is at his side, searching his face. “What are you doing here?”

Calm. Cool. Breathe. He won't let his cover be blown. It's been four months since he'd visited Cole and Lily and told them he had an assignment and wouldn't be able to see them until it was completed.

“Sorry, you've got the wrong guy,” Sebastian says, working to keep his face emotionless. He takes Taylor's hand and pulls her in the opposite direction.

“Lily would love to see you.”

Lily.
The name lands in his stomach and takes root. He turns back around. “Look, my name is Will. Will Anderson.” He stares intently into Cole's eyes. Please understand. You know who I am. You know what I do.

“Oh, sorry.” There's desperation in Cole's voice and his eyes are ringed with a badge of exhaustion. He raises a hand in apology. “They say everyone has a doppelganger out there. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No problem.”

“But maybe you—­or your friend—­can help me with a church member I'm looking for,” Cole says, indicating Taylor.

“Who's that?” Sebastian asks.

“Jonathan Hudson. Young kid. Mop of hair. A ­couple facial piercings.”

“Hudson,” Taylor repeats. “Doesn't ring a bell.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “Sorry we can't help.”

“Well,” Cole says. “Again, sorry to bother you.” He pivots and disappears into the crowd.

“He seemed pretty convinced he knew you,” Taylor says.

“It's probably the beard. Half my face is hidden, after all. Now how about that coffee?”

Together they wend their way out the front doors of Patriot's Church. Their chatter streams along, with her doing most of the talking. What the hell was Cole doing at Patriot's Church? And who's the kid? Sebastian needs to keep Cole as far away from BASIA as possible.

At the café in District 19 they sit outside wearing parkas, enjoying the sunny, crisp air. As though it's a normal day, in a normal world. Sipping lattes and holding hands are luxuries now. Still, Sebastian sips his drink, trades smiles with Taylor, and mentally squashes the spikes of memory and emotion that are attempting to break through.

I
T
'
S
LATE
IN
the afternoon now, as Cole focuses on Sebastian's car, several feet ahead. It was disorienting, shocking even, to see him at Patriot's Church. It was so natural to approach him, it hadn't even occurred to him why he might be there. Last summer when Sebastian had told them that he was going away on assignment, Cole had assumed it meant he was relocating. But there he was, holding the hand of that blond woman. She looked familiar but he couldn't place her. Has Sebastian moved on from Kate so easily? Either way, maybe now there's a different inroad to find Jonathan and get him out of BASIA. Cole can't let this go—­the only reason Jonathan's in danger is because of Project Swap.

After dropping off the woman, Sebastian parks on a side street off Commonwealth Avenue. Cole pulls into an adjacent alley. He follows Sebastian on foot, leaving a block between them. Tracks in the slush lead to the back door of the old BU Bookstore. The door is ajar. He slides through and it takes a few seconds for his eyes adjust to the darkness. Except for heavy footsteps leading upstairs, the building is completely silent. Four floors up there's no sign of Sebastian. An emergency fire exit leads to the roof.

Cole opens the door. The air is weighted by a heavy mist.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian's voice comes from directly behind him.

Cole spins around and they're face-­to-­face. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I'm an FBI agent. Doing my job. And you almost blew my cover today.” Sebastian's voice is tinged with anger and his eyes are intense. A side of him Cole's never seen.

“I'm sorry. Really. I was thrown off, seeing you there.”

“What the hell are you doing? Why are you following me?”

“It didn't start out that way,” he says. “But now that I know you're inside Patriot's Church, I was hoping you could help me.”

“I'm in neck deep, Cole.” Sebastian wanders away for a moment, then returns. “You have about three minutes and then you need to get out of here. I have a meeting.”

“Steven Hudson—­Jonathan's father—­has been threatened,” he explains. “Reverend Mitchell is extorting money for Jonathan's return.”

“Far as I've seen, everyone's there of his or her own will.”

“He didn't join the church or BASIA. He took a job with the Reverend.”

“Doing what?”

“Not sure exactly. But he's a hacker. Talented but reckless, apparently. Kid's already been arrested. I'm guessing Mitchell is utilizing his talents.”

“Sounds feasible.”

Can he tell him about Project Swap? It's impossible to explain without implicating himself. But Sebastian was almost a member of his family. There has to be a degree of trust. “The last time we saw Jonathan, he had a plan to steal clean MedIDs that Mitchell's been collecting from the soldiers.”

“What?” Sebastian steps closer. “Why?”

“Let's leave it at that.”

“It's helpful to have the bigger picture.”

“I can't. Not yet.”

“Jesus, Cole. Okay. I'll look into it, see what I can find out. But I'm in a bit of a shit storm myself.”

“I appreciate it.”

“You need to go now.”

“Don't you clandestine types meet under the cover of night usually?”

Sebastian grins. “Usually. But I just got a message and my handler wants to meet at dusk. So here I am.”

A creak makes them turn and the door to the roof slams shut. A loud click sounds—­the lock? Sebastian draws his gun and he runs toward the door. Cole follows. Attached with putty of some kind, a microdrive clings to do the door. Sebastian takes it and plugs it into his phone.

“What is it?” Cole says.

“Codes. Decrypted codes.” Sebastian studies the small screen in his palm, strokes his beard with his free hand. He begins to mumble under his breath. “Goddammit. If this is synchronized, I don't know if we can organize this kind of manpower.”

“I'm sure it's classified,” Cole says. “But is there anything I can do?”

Sebastian bends at the waist as though he's been hit in the stomach. Still he mumbles quietly, like he's processing information. “There are fifty coordinates.”

“For each state?” Cole asks.

“But when? Election Day? Thanksgiving? Christmas?” Sebastian straightens and pulls on the handle, but the door doesn't budge. He slams his palm against the metal door. “Renner! Renner, goddammit.”

The moment feels private, like Cole doesn't belong. He has no idea what he's just stepped in. A tone sounds on Sebastian's phone. From a few feet away Cole can see Agent Renner's face. He knows him from their hospital visits to bombing victims. It's a prerecorded video. “It's over, Sebastian. I have new orders and they include eliminating you. We had a good run, though. You got so close. Too close. And you should know the truth when you die. I confirmed Dash is Carter Benson, deputy campaign manager to Richard Hensley. At least you have some resolution. Blame President Clark, Hensley, and the government for taking Kate. Looks like they were also the ones who tried to run down Taylor in the alley that night. She's bad press. Seb, I'll miss our two
A
.
M
. coffees. Good luck. You have five seconds left.”

Without hesitation Sebastian turns in the direction of the alleyway and with full force hurls the phone, drive still in it, so that it disappears over the edge. A tremendous explosion shakes the building, the sheer power knocking Cole and Sebastian over. Cole checks his torso, his hands run down his legs and arms. His whole body is shaking. He looks over to Sebastian. There's no blood, no contorted limbs, just a thick layer of dust covering him.

“Good friend?” Cole says.

The slightest gasp-­laugh sound escapes Sebastian. “In this business, one minute you're friends, the next, well.”

“You're dead.”

“He'll have to keep trying. But he wouldn't have warned me about the blast if he really wanted me dead.”

“Why bother at all, then?”

“He has orders. Appearances are everything.”

Sebastian is the first to his feet. He offers a hand to Cole. “Get home to Lily. There's a fire escape on the east side.”

Descending the rusted staircase, Cole takes each step slowly as he fights to regain the practiced calm that has gotten him through years in emergency medicine. At the bottom the asphalt beneath his feet is hard, immovable. Pleasing. Sebastian lands next to him. His hair and beard are wet and gray with dust. Cole knows he must look the same.

“Stick to being a doctor,” Sebastian says. “It's safer.”

“Not anymore.” Cole looks around at the crumbling building facades around them. “Remember when you used to argue the merits of this government?”

A flash of anger, a flush in Sebastian's checks. “When we're ill-­informed, we make bad decisions.”

Time to go. Cole offers his hand and Sebastian shakes it.

“I'll look for the kid, see what I can do,” Sebastian says.

“Thanks. Let me know if I can help in any way.”

“There's a hit out on me, Cole. Stay as far away as possible.”

That, Cole can't argue.

 

Chapter 53

W
ITH
THREE
WEEKS
to go in the election, Richard has given in to being shuttled around like a child. His team schedules him for ninety-­minute visits in one state after another. He pumps hands, spews rhetoric, grins until his face hurts, and drinks so much coffee it hardly has an effect anymore. After he gives his stump speech on the lawn of the mayor's sprawling estate in West Chester, Ohio, he escapes into the mansion.

With the mayor still outside shaking hands with constituents, the house is empty. His footfalls echo off the high ceilings as he wanders, slipping into a formal living room filled with stiff, ornate sofas. The din of voices outside reminds him time is of the essence. He pulls out his phone, touches his thumb to unlock the screen. The live feed of Taylor's home fills the screen. He pulls up Sienna's room. A fairy in the sunlight dances on a pink tufted rug. He breathes easier, catches himself smiling. Such a lovely little creature. If anything happens to Taylor, Sienna will come to live with him. A little girl's dream—­to live in the White House!

But his thoughts quickly darken, turning to the threat over his girls. Despite his blood pressure medicine, the stress is getting to him. Since receiving the text with the bribe, he's been out of breath, sweating profusely, not sleeping. The money isn't ready yet. The Cape house remains on the market, though the Nantucket property sold. Still, the paperwork takes weeks. Even if he cleared out all of his savings accounts, he doesn't have five million dollars to hand over to Charles Mitchell. There must be another alternative.

The door to the room opens. Richard wheels around, drops the phone and fumbles for it. When he looks up, he sees it's only Carter. “Five minutes, sir. We need to get to the airport or we'll be late to Wisconsin.”

“Yes, yes.” He's under constant watch, everything he says and does, everywhere he goes. By Reverend Mitchell and by his own ­people. After days of debating how to handle this extortion for the safety of Taylor and Sienna, he's had to admit to himself that he can't do it alone. But all his close friends are mired in politics with a web of strings attached. Old family and friends are dead, out of touch, or have emigrated. He has to take a chance on someone.

The door begins to close.

“Carter?” He steps back into the room. “I need help with something.”

“Of course.”

“It's quite unorthodox.” Richard takes a seat on one of the couches. “It needs to be handled quietly. With the utmost confidentiality.”

“We've known each other two years, Senator.” Carter sits in an adjacent chair. “I hope you know by now that you can trust me.”

The weight on his chest eases as he explains the situation with Mitchell.

“So, you want me to do the swap?” Carter asks. “The money for your daughter?”

“Not exactly.” Richard leans in, elbows on his knees. “I can't get that kind of money. Not this fast. So, we need to get Taylor and Sienna out. Transport them somewhere Mitchell can't find them.”

“Excuse me for saying so, sir, but it's only money. Why take chances? Can you just ask for more time so you can pull it together?”

“If I thought that would be the end of it. But even if I hand over the money, Taylor won't leave Mitchell. My granddaughter will still be in danger. And when I'm in the White House they'll come back with more requests, more demands. I need to put an end to this.”

Carter hesitates briefly, then nods. “Thank you for confiding in me, sir. I'll help you however I can.”

The door to the room swings open and Kendra stomps in, breathless. “What's happening? You two sitting down to a formal tea?”

“That sounds lovely, actually,” Richard says.

“Wheels up,” Kendra says. “Wisconsin here we come.”

Richard follows his team back down the hall and into the Town Car. Sharing his burden with Carter is a relief. Together they'll come up with a viable plan. And goddamn if he's going to let Mitchell win.