The Crimson Fall (The Sons of Liberty Book 1) (31 page)

Lukas paused and cleared his throat. Dan wasn’t being the usual enthusiastic friend that he had always been in the past. Lukas tried to appear relaxed on the outside, but he was already frustrated with the way the interview was going. Especially since it was being aired live.

“I would hardly say that what happened at Dulles was unexplainable. We know who did it, and as for any future tragedies, the treaty has ensured our safety from horrific acts of violence.”

“Other than the Chicago riots, of course.”

“Well, Dan, we know the American people love the new program. We can’t let the lies of an American terrorist overshadow what we’ve accomplished as a nation.”

“Oh, how right you are, Mr. President,” Dan said condescendingly. “Speaking of the new program, are you able to reveal any estimates on how successful it has been thus far?”

“Well, I do not have exact numbers, but our best estimates say that well over half the older firearms have been exchanged.”

“And how many does that roughly equate to, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Approximately two hundred million new, safe, and reliable firearms delivered to the American people.”

“Two hundred million. Now that is quite an accomplishment, Mr. President. It appears as though you’ve been able to implement a firearms ban that would make your liberal predecessors jealous.”

The president laughed. “It is hardly a weapons ban. It is hope, and it is progress. I do not think ‘jealous’ is the right word. I have spoken with many of our past leaders, and they are happy that something reasonable has finally come to pass.”

“Humor me for a bit,” Dan said. “I’d like to ask you about the actual technology behind the new systems. How was it originally conceived?”

“It was something my company had been working on for years when—”

“Let me ask you this,” Dan interrupted.

“Are you going to let me finish?” the president asked as he looked to his nervous aides.

“Mr. President, I’m the one interviewing you, not the other way around,” Dan said. “You can’t control everything . . . not yet at least.”

Lukas nodded his head reluctantly, though his eye began to twitch after the man’s last statement.

“Mr. President, two hundred million firearms have been destroyed and replaced with a piece of technology that is quite possibly susceptible to hacking according to recent allegations.”

“Come on now, Dan. We released the data for every firearm in Chicago. You saw the quantum compasses installed on every firearm recorded no incoming signals to suggest they were altered. They’re not even
able
to accept incoming data. As I said earlier, those were lies that came from a domestic extremist,” the president replied. “We know America’s enemies will always try to exploit and speak doubt into something good.”

“Indeed,” Dan said. “Well, Mr. President, for the sake of curiosity, I cannot help but ask; are you
able to disable the two hundred million new American firearms?”

“Of course not,” he replied angrily. “They were designed to prevent any intrusion from an outside source.”

“I see,” Dan said. “I’m sure the nation is very happy to hear that. Imagine the panic if people knew they had been disarmed by their own government without even knowing it.”

Lukas paused, narrowed his eyes, and stared back at the man for a moment. Dan was obviously hinting at what no one else should have known other than the Patriarchs and the disposed engineers at H.C. Industries.
He knew Rhys wanted him to falter so that he might take his place, but Lukas never would have imagined the man would have been so bold and stupid as to try to make it actually happen before the Purge. Lukas’ pause was brief, but he could not help but wonder what Dan Martin
really
knew.

“As I said, I can assure you that they are safe with the new systems, and whatever rumors you heard were false.”

“Well, I’m happy to hear that,” Dan said on the verge of mockery. “It seems you’ve done so much good to protect this nation, and the American people love you for it.”

“I love this country,” the president said, “I love its people, and I would do anything to serve them.”

“Speaking of which, I know you don’t like talking about it much, but I wanted to ask you about the time you spent in Iraq as a Marine. Specifically about the men you served with.”

Who got to you, you son of a bitch,
Lukas thought angrily. He began to wonder what the repercussions would be if he walked off now during a live interview. He looked to his public relations aide, but she just stared back as though she was waiting to hear him answer the man’s questions. Someone had obviously gone to Dan in an effort to expose him. He began to think that Rhys had in fact been brazen enough to do this in an attempt to prove to Lukas that he was the one in control.

“Those days were long ago, and I think any veteran of war could sympathize with my desire to not talk about my fallen friends.”

“But aren’t we all veterans of that same fight?” Dan asked. “Though I didn’t know your men personally, I know the price we all paid to keep America’s enemies off her shores, and I would gladly bloody myself for their memory, even now after those soldiers are long gone. So when I hear startling information about your days in Iraq involving the platoon you led . . . and a certain ambush which you were decorated as a hero for, I’m inclined to question those involved.  More specially . . . you. Would you care to elaborate on anything, Mr. President?”

Despite his best efforts, Lukas’ face burned red, and his eye twitched uncontrollably.

“Look, Dan, I am a fan of yours, but I do not appreciate the tone in which you are addressing me. I am the president of the United States, and I think I deserve a little respect. Can we agree to continue with this conversation in an adult manner or should we end this now?”

Dan ignored the president’s question. “Mr. President, is it true that your own men tied you down to your bunk minutes before a bombardment of artillery? If so, what would bring them to do such a thing? Did you ever think in the years since then that it might have been the fact that you saw yourself as better than the very men you were supposed to serve?”

The journal.
It was the only place that held that story. But his journal had never left the White House, his home, or. . . .

Adam Reinhart.

Lukas almost trembled with the fear that overwhelmed him when everything became clear.
That’s how Sue knew about the affair. That’s what she had hidden.
Suddenly, Lukas no longer feared some scheme of Rhys. He was terrified of the very man he had assured the Patriarchs was no longer a threat. Lukas knew he had to figure out a way to end the interview promptly before more damage could be done.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Lukas muttered. “I . . . was close with my men and . . . I was truly heartbroken by their deaths.”

“Even the death of Private Buck?” Dan asked.

An image of Private Buck leaning forward with concern in his eyes before his face exploded clouded Lukas’ vision. Lukas closed his eyes tightly and shook his head in an attempt to free himself of what he had tried to forget. A few seconds passed before he realized once more that he was on live TV and millions were watching.

“I . . . I cannot—” Lukas stumbled over his words and looked to his concerned aides before barely composing himself. “Buck was a good man.”

“I’m sure he was,” Dan said. “I believe that any warrior who sacrifices his life so that others may live is a good man. It breaks my heart anytime I hear of an American soldier losing their life to the
enemy
.” Dan emphasized the word
enemy
as though to tell the president, ‘Yes, I know your dirty little secrets, and yes, you’re going down tonight.’

We will see about that, Mr. Martin,
Lukas thought angrily as he tried to harden his nerves.

“Well, you’ve had a very eventful past year. Joe Reinhart died tragically in the Dulles Massacre, and now you have his younger brother, Congressman Adam Reinhart, running from the law after murdering three federal agents and a cop for reasons no one knows. Are there any details about that night in Chicago that can help the American people understand what would drive a United States congressman to kill a man like your old friend Mr. Fresnel?”

“You know as well as I do that the investigation—”

“Do you suspect foul play or anything?”

“What do you mean?” As soon as Lukas asked, he regretted it.

“For example, have you considered that perhaps John Fresnel was trying to kill the congressman instead the other way around?” Dan asked.

“Mr. Martin, are you seriously suggesting—”

Dan interrupted again. “Because I suspect foul play, as well. In fact, I’ve recently heard some startling accusations that I think the American people have a right to hear.”

“I will not sit here while you disrespect me like this,” Lukas said as he looked over at his aides and nodded for them to end the interview. “This interview is over.”

“No!” Dan shouted. Lukas could see the Secret Service shift uncomfortably at the situation, ready to pounce on Dan Martin if he moved toward their commander-in-chief. However, the drones hovering above silently displayed no outward signs of intervening, though Lukas inwardly wished they would.

“Mr. Chambers, I liked you as a president, and I didn’t want to do this, but the time has come for the truth to be heard.” Dan said with fury in his eyes. “I wished and prayed what I had read about you to be false, but you have done nothing but confirm it! So damn you for putting me in this position, but you have been treating the United States and the world like it is your own little empire and—”

“My own little empire?” Lukas shouted back and then laughed as he shook his head.
And what the hell makes you think it’s not?

“What . . . what the hell did you just say to me?” Dan asked.

Lukas went wide-eyed. He looked puzzlingly at Dan, his aides, and the agents by his side. They all gawked at him.
What had I said
?

“I said this interview is over.”

“No, you said . . . you just said ‘what makes you think it’s not.’”

Lukas racked his brain, trying to remember back to a few seconds prior.
Oh my God,
did I say it out loud?
The time had come and gone for him to leave, and he had to get out of there.

“I don’t know what you think you heard, but this is over.” Lukas stood and motioned to his agents.

“Sit down you traitorous son of a bitch!” Dan shouted. “It’s all true, isn’t it?”

Lukas stared back at Dan, shocked at his sudden outburst. He tore his eyes away from the man and up toward the dumbfounded station producer. “Shut it down now.”

“Don’t!” Dan yelled to the producer. “This ends tonight. Your scheming ends tonight. I’m not one of your pawns, and you don’t own us like the others. You can’t just shut us down.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Lukas took off his microphone quickly and began to walk off the set.

“Well, maybe I should jog your memory. You murdered your platoon. Your plan to overthrow the United States. The Patriarchs—”

“Enough!” Lukas’ shout cut the man off mid-sentence. He turned to his Secret Service agents and bellowed out his orders. “Detain him!”

“Sir?” the lead agent replied.

“Detain me?” Dan shouted back as he shook with hatred in his eyes. The news anchor stood up and kicked his leather chair behind him. “You think it’s that easy? You’re not getting away with this!” Dan turned to the camera and started shouting. “Send the journal to everyone you can, Adam. Upload it to the web, send it to—”

Lukas trembled as he began to yell with anger. “I’m ordering you to arrest that man right now!”

The three agents walked over to the shouting reporter to take him into custody.

“Don’t you touch me.” Dan slugged the first agent that approached him, and the other two quickly dove on top of him, slamming him hard against the floor.

Dan let out a cry of pain. “Get off me!” The struggling man kicked and writhed about violently as he continued to shout. “Adam Reinhart is innocent. The president is behind it all!” An agent shouted for a tranquilizer as they tried to handcuff him. “He ordered the Dulles Massacre! He murdered his wife! He can shut off all the new guns!”

“Get him out of here!” Lukas barked.

“He’s planning a takeover! He’s working with others! The Patriarchs! They’re planning to—”

“Shut him up; shut him up!” Lukas shouted. “Shoot—”

As the chaos came to a climax, time seemed to slow over the next three fateful seconds.

While two of the agents wrestled with the anchorman’s thrashing arms, Secret Service Agent Steven Fillmore, from Detroit, struggled on top of Dan Martin. But it wasn’t Steve’s first battle. No, for years he had battled over acceptance from others. He had big dreams in high school, but he had not amounted to much afterward. He had become a cop, and for years he worked the beat, dealing with the filth of Detroit while his old friends excelled elsewhere and made a name for themselves. His closest friend had joined him on the force and for a while he had become content with the life he had. They had planned to live their lives fighting crime together, but when a thug grabbed Steve’s side arm and shot his partner and best friend dead, he vowed to never let his guard down again. After his partner’s death, he had struggled once more to feel accepted among the cops who he knew secretly blamed him. He vowed to hone his skills and gain their acceptance through his years of dedication—a devotion that quickly forged him into one of Detroit’s finest men in blue. So, when he was approached a year ago to become a member of the Secret Service’s rapidly expanding ranks, he knew this was his chance to finally move on. He had worked hard, impressed his peers and superiors, and had been ecstatic when John Fresnel himself had requested that Steve be part of a rotation to personally protect the president. He had convinced the psych evaluations—and even himself—that his inner struggle of fear had been completely eradicated. He had sworn to devote himself to the job and to become the best agent the Secret Service had ever seen. So when he felt the struggling anchorman’s arm get tangled in and tug at the holster that housed his side arm, it wasn’t like Steve Fillmore of Detroit had planned or wanted to draw his gun.