The Collective Protocol (19 page)

TWENTY-THREE

Patrolman Jason Keith scratched his kneecap where his polyester blend trousers tickled the hair growing there. He’d been sitting in his patrol car all night beside Interstate 35 just north of Austin in Pflugerville, Texas. It was a warm morning for January and in the first few days he’d already met his unofficial quota of speeding tickets for the entire month.

If he was a lesser man, he’d sit back and allow citizens to go about their lives without stopping them to issue citations when they went faster than the Texas speed limit allowed. But he couldn’t do that. He held himself to a higher standard. He worked at least two accidents a week that were the direct result of speeding, often fatalities. He knew every person that he issued a ticket to would curse the Texas Highway Patrol, but they’d think twice before speeding again—at least on the day they received the citation.

He knew all the jokes, he’d told them himself as a kid, about the HiPo who simply wrote enough tickets that Texas could continue to be an income tax free state. But after he joined, he realized that there was so much more to it than that. It was about safety and, unfortunately, people didn’t often learn a lesson without losing something in return.

Jason picked up his coffee and took a sip. The warm liquid slid down his throat and he sighed in contentment at the caffeine after a long night. He started to set the mug back in the cup holder and his peaceful world shattered as a tractor-trailer truck traveled too close to the shoulder, clipping the back end of his cruiser. The patrol car went spinning into the road and he braced himself against the next impact which was sure to come, along the busy interstate.

Mercifully, the oncoming drivers had seen the accident and slowed down in time. He shifted the vehicle into reverse and slowly backed it off of the interstate and flipped on his lights. “Dispatch, this is King-24,” he said into his radio using the department’s phonetic letter for his last name.

“This is Dispatch, go ahead Jason,” his good friend Brent Meaks replied.

“My patrol car just got hit by a semi heading northbound near Exit 248 on I-35. How copy?”

“I got the info. Is everyone alright?” the dispatcher asked.

“I don’t know. It just happened. Looks like… Yeah, the semi is overturned, blocking all lanes of traffic.”

“Okay, I’ll send an ambulance and try to get a wrecker or two out there ASAP.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna head over and see what I can do for the trucker,” Jason replied.

“Alright, you should have assistance there in a couple of minutes.”

He got out of the car gingerly and twisted his upper body to crack his lower back. Jason muttered a few choice words that would have gotten his kids a bar of soap in their mouths and crammed his cowboy hat onto his head.

The officer walked as quickly as he could towards the overturned vehicle. “Aww, dammit!” he said when he rounded the trailer. It had been blocking his view of the gruesome sight. His eyes surveyed the scene quickly and he was able to put together what had happened. The driver wasn’t wearing his seatbelt and when the truck hit the patrol car it had started to turn over. The warm weather probably meant that the driver had his window down to take advantage of it before he traveled back north. He must have fallen halfway out the window as the truck turned over and then became trapped under the cab of the truck as it skidded on top of him for twenty feet. Jason looked at the large puddle of dark liquid on the pavement and decided that the man must have been dead almost instantly.

Out of habit, he walked over to check for a pulse. Nothing. Given the condition of the body, he hadn’t expected there to be one, but it was still his responsibility to check. Sirens blared from both directions as his fellow officers sped toward one of their own in trouble and he walked stiffly back towards his car for a sheet to cover the driver’s body.

One by one the stopped cars moved towards the side of the road to let other emergency vehicles through to the scene of the accident. It would be a nightmare trying to get the traffic sorted out once they finally got the semi moved. Before long, ten police cars were blocking both north- and southbound traffic on either side of the concrete barriers.

An officer that he didn’t recognize from far away came running towards him. “Jason, are you okay?”

His vision began to blur but he recognized the new guy’s stride as he got closer…
What was his name
? he asked himself through the fog that descended upon his vision. “Yeah, kid. I’m…”

The officer didn’t finish his sentence. None of the officers standing around the scene said anything after Jason collapsed. As one they pulled their service revolvers and began shooting into the vehicles of the bystanders who couldn’t escape from the carnage.

TWENTY-FOUR

The group was met by a man in an old-school four wheel drive Jeep Wagoneer that had at least a four-inch lift above its huge tires. “How are you guys doing?” he asked enthusiastically as he pulled up.

“We’re doing well, Greg. How was the trip?” Dave answered for everyone.

“The roads are only partially covered, so it’s okay,” the driver answered back as he stepped down from the vehicle to greet everyone. He was a typical everyman. His features were forgettable and his voice was even and boring. He’d have blended into any setting, but behind his well-trimmed beard he seemed especially suited for the cold Canadian environment.

After he shook everyone’s hand Greg said, “Okay, so which one of you is the one who’s going to save America?”

Juan pointed at Reagan and she blanched. It was a good thing that she wore a facemask, otherwise everyone would have seen her for the fraud that she felt like she was. Greg walked back to her and looked her up and down in the frumpy ski clothing. “Are you ready for this?” he asked as he leaned in close to her ear.

“I… I’m just going to talk to my sister. I’m going to make her stop doing all these terrible things.”

“Sister, eh? Must have made for one hell of family vacation every year.”

“I didn’t grow up with her. I haven’t ever even met her before,” she answered truthfully.

“Great, so you won’t have any problems when I kill her then.”

Jimmie stepped over and said, “I’m sorry, Greg. Who are you exactly?”

“I’m Greg, your friendly wilderness guide!” he replied with wide outstretched arms indicating the forest around them.

Juan slid between the two men and said, “Thank you for meeting us out here, Greg. It was getting cold. We’re ready to move on to the second stage.”

“We don’t need the second stage,” the newcomer answered. “We figured out where she either lives or works, probably both. I can pull up right to the front door and let you out.”

“That’s awesome! What changed between last night and today?” Jimmie asked.

He regarded the younger man for a moment and replied, “Her habits have changed over the past week. Prior to Christmas she had a fairly set pattern, but any time any of our guys got close to her she made them somehow and always gave us the slip, oftentimes the officer would call from miles outside of the city with no recollection of how they got there. Happened to me before, it’s pretty freaky.

“After Christmas she disappeared for six days, but when she turned back up, she started going to different cafes and using the city’s light rail system, something we’ve
never
seen her do before. I even sat next to her yesterday on the train and she had no clue that I was an American. Frankly, we’re puzzled about what it means, but it
has
made our job easier.”

“I was sick as hell between Christmas and New Year’s,” Reagan muttered.

“Huh? What was that?” Greg asked.

“I was sick at the same time she disappeared.”

He placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head. “Big deal. People get sick all the time.”

“Paige Greene is my twin sister,” Reagan rebutted.

“Oh, now
this
just got interesting!” Greg said as he clapped his hands closed and began rubbing them together.

*****

The group squeezed into Greg’s Jeep for the journey northward towards Calgary. Less than an hour from the city Agent Quintana got a phone call. Reagan thought it was funny that he straightened up and sat bolt upright in the passenger seat while he talked. She nudged Jimmie to share in the fun.

“He must be talking to his boss or something,” she whispered.

“Yes, I’m with her, sir,” he said a little louder than he’d been speaking a moment before. “Of course, sir.”

He tapped the face of his cell phone a few times and then said loudly, “You’re on speaker now, Mr. President.”

“
Miss Lockhart, can you hear me?
” a southern drawl asked through the phone’s miniscule speakers.

Reagan sat up so quickly that her head actually hit the Jeep’s low ceiling. “Ow! I mean, yes Mr. President, I can hear you, sir.”

“
How are you this lovely morning?
”

She considered saying that her feet hurt, her legs ached, that she still hadn’t fully recovered from the headaches and that she’d had her first real kiss last night so she also felt amazing, but she settled for, “I’m good, Mr. President… sir.”

“
Calm down a little bit, darlin’! You don’t have to say ‘sir’ after every sentence
.”

“Okay…”

“
Miss Lockhart, I want you to know that what you’re doing is a selfless thing. Your sister has to be stopped. I… I don’t want to alarm you about what’s happened here in the U.S. today, but you need to know what kind of person that you’re dealing with up there
.”

Her mind flashed towards Washington, D.C. and somehow she saw Detective Simms shooting at a schoolyard. Officer Steve, the man who’d dutifully followed her for an entire week, lay dead in an alley with his head bashed in, all around him residents of the city cried and held loved ones that he’d shot. Innocent civilians battled for their lives against police officers all across her hometown.

She panicked and her
vision
shot her to the hotel where her family still stayed since her episode had put her mother’s plan to return home on hold. Heather and Ansley Lockhart lay huddled together on the floor between the beds in the dark. They were alright for now.

“I think I already know, Mr. President,” Reagan replied.

“What do you know?” Greg asked.

“
Who was that? Who else is on the line?
” the president demanded.

“Greg Gibson, sir. I’m with the Agency, responsible for getting Miss Lockhart to the target.”

“Sir, we’ve got a few others in the vehicle,” Juan said. “Jimmie Rollins, the cop I briefed you about earlier, and two other federal agents from the Bureau.”

“
Rollins. How are you feeling, son?
”

“I’m okay, sir.”

“
Jimmie, do you love your country?
”

“More than life itself, sir.”

“
Then I need you to hand over any weapons that you may have to the agents in the car. All weapons, do I make myself clear?
”

“Uh… Yes, sir,” he replied and handed the pistol over to Janice and his asp baton to Dave. “All done, sir. I don’t have any weapons.”

“
Okay, that may seem like a strange request, but there’s a reason for it. Miss Lockhart, you said that you knew the latest event that started this morning. Can you please tell everyone what you think is happening in America right now?
”

“The police are murdering innocent civilians,” she replied distantly.

“
That’s right. It’s not just one or two cities affected like before. It’s happening in almost every major U.S. city. The police are going crazy and we don’t even have the military forces to deploy in order to help stop them. Some states have National Guard units who are fighting with the police forces, but in most cases it’s the average civilians who are trying to put a stop to their rampage. It’s total war and the death toll is horrendous. Miss Lockhart… Reagan, you
have
to stop your sister. If you don’t, this will be the end of our country
.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mr. President.”

“
I need you to do better than that, Reagan. You must stop her and put an end to the… the spells or whatever they are
,” the president replied firmly.

“Yes, sir. I’ll stop her,” Reagan answered.

“
Good. Godspeed, and good luck. We’re all counting on you
.”

The phone line clicked off and everyone sat in silence until Greg finally spoke up. “That’s a green light from the President of the United States to go ahead with the mission.”

Reagan stared hard at the agent’s profile. He must have felt the piercing daggers of her gaze because he adjusted the rearview mirror to stare right back at her. “You don’t like me, do you?” he asked.

She thought about it for a moment. All her life she’d taken the easy way, tried to get along with everyone and appease those who were bigger and stronger than she was. She was done with that way of living. “No, Greg. I don’t like you at all,” she hissed. “The first words you spoke to me were to ask me if I was cool with you killing my twin sister.”

“Alright, we got us a hellcat in the car. Bet that fires you up, don’t it, Jimmie-boy?”

The ex-cop started to say something and Reagan slapped a hand across his chest. “Let me tell you something,” she replied. “I’m going to take care of Paige. I’ll put a stop to all of this, one way or another, but you need to stay the hell away from her. Do you hear me?”

Greg shrugged and said, “Look, we’re all in this together. We’re on the same side. You have your methods and I have mine. If I get the chance, I’m ending this once and for all.”

Reagan started to say something else but Jimmie’s restraining hand on her leg kept her in check. She’d have to deal with the man from the
Agency
when the time came. For now, the group needed him to get to Calgary and since he hadn’t actually told anyone where Paige was located, they’d need him in the city as well.

She couldn’t quite restrain herself so she said, “I’ll be watching my back around you.”

“Oh, believe me. I’ve seen the video of what you did at the Thai restaurant. I’ll keep an extra-close eye on you as well.”

Reagan waved off Jimmie’s questioning glance. He didn’t know about what she’d done and she couldn’t deal with it right now. They were ten minutes away from the city and she had to figure out a way to stop her sister that didn’t involve killing her.