Cross Roads (7 page)

“So where is this all leading, or where does it leave us?” Alexis asked.

“Right where we were when we entered this room,” Yoko said.

Harry reared up and bellowed at the top of his lungs. Everyone froze. “I want to know where Jack and Bert are, and I goddamn well want to know
NOW
!”

“Yeah, well, as much as you want to know where they are, that's how much I want to know where Isabelle is!” Maggie bellowed in return.

“Shouting and getting angry isn't going to help us. We need cool heads right now, and we need a plan, a strategy, a map to help us out. Charles has taken the first step by calling Mr. Snowden. I'm confident nothing is going to come of Charles's calls to Mr. Jellicoe's home and to his private phone number. I believe it is safe to assume the man is not going to return Charles's call, I think we are all in agreement on that. We're on our own. And if it was Mr. Jellicoe's intention back in the beginning to separate us, it didn't work, now, did it? Four of us are here along with Maggie and the boys, and we all know something is wrong. Now, let's try and figure out what it is. But let's do the video conference with Lizzie first. We need her input, and we need her to get in touch with the president. After that, I think we'll have a clearer picture of what we're up against,” Myra said in her take-charge voice.

“I'll set things up,” Charles said.

The room went silent while they waited for the huge screen in the room to come alive. All it took was eight minutes, and Lizzie's beautiful face appeared on the screen. Five minutes of small talk ensued before Myra once again took charge. Lizzie listened attentively, and said, “I can make the call to the president's private number. That doesn't mean she will take the call. When she wants to talk to me, she calls in the middle of the night East Coast time. Even though we're close personal friends, that is no guarantee she's going to share details of her love life with me. I'll do my best, but I cannot guarantee a return call.”

“Have you heard from Jack, Bert, or Isabelle?” Maggie asked.

“No. I've tried. I wanted to send pictures of Little Jack to Jack, but everything bounced back. When I call Bert, it goes to voice mail, and Isabelle is the same. I finally just gave up. Now that I think about it, it's been since Thanksgiving last year. Are you telling me none of you have heard from them, either?”

“None of us have heard a thing. As you can see, Ted, Espinosa, and Alexis are here. They resigned and are back at the paper. Yoko and Harry came back last week. Harry resigned, too. The boys need you to help them with their contracts and to make arrangements to return their sign-on bonuses, prorated of course,” Maggie said.

“Where is Hank?” Lizzie asked.

“That's what we'd all like to know. As far as we can figure out, when he walked out of his offices the day the boys signed their contracts, he disappeared. That's as much as we know, Lizzie,” Annie said.

“You can call us anytime, dear. We're all at the farm. How is Little Jack?” Myra asked.

“Kind of fussy, he had an upper respiratory infection, but it's almost cleared up. Now he just has gas.”

The talk turned to babies and formulas until Charles held up his hand to indicate the conference was over. Good-byes rang loud and clear.

“I have an idea,” Maggie said. “Let's call the architectural board to see if Isabelle renewed her license and if they have a new address on file for her. Maybe we could get some snail mail to her since she doesn't answer her phone. I wish I understood how they can jam all the phones like that. You'd think by now Bert and Jack would have realized what's going on. The fact that none of us have heard from them is starting to worry me big-time.”

“I've been worried for a long time,” Harry said so quietly, the others had to strain to hear his words. “Jack's like my brother; Bert, too. Some way, somehow, they would have found a way to get in touch with me if something was wrong.”

“What if that
something
is wrong on
their
end?” Annie said ominously.

“Chamomile tea, dear,” Annie and Myra said at the same time. “Works every time.”

H
alf a world away, Jack Emery, a murderous look on his face, walked into his designer office and kicked the chair from behind the desk. He felt mentally sore and bruised from fight number 986 with Nikki. He sat down and bellowed for his secretary to fetch him some coffee. When there was no response, he got up and walked out to her office. The door was closed and locked, which meant she hadn't arrived yet, which in itself was a puzzle. Possibly even a cause for concern. Sari had never been late, never missed a day since he'd taken over the office. He checked the phone to be sure there was no message, but Sari had not called in. The back of his neck started to itch as he made his way to the designer kitchen that matched his office. Well, he knew how to make coffee, not that he'd done it in a while. There were a lot of things he hadn't done in a while.

While he waited for the coffee to drip, Jack made his way to the main computer room, where faxes and computers lined one whole wall. Here in this foreign land, Global Securities did not rely on the postal system. Everything was electronic, 24/7. Normally, Sari had everything precisely aligned on his desk by the time he got in in the morning.

Jack looked down at his watch. Sari was thirty minutes late. The part-time help wasn't due for another hour. With nothing else to do but wait for the coffee and think about his latest go-round with Nikki, he picked up the faxes and turned on the computer to check the e-mails. He scanned the e-mails briefly and printed them out, then added them to the stack of faxes. He carried them back to his desk, then made his way back to the kitchen for his coffee. He grew even more annoyed that there were no donuts or muffins. He'd been in such a huff when he left the house earlier, he hadn't even thought to take along a piece of fruit. Christ, how he hated this place and everything in it.

Jack stomped his way back to his office, spilling half the coffee on the way. He looked down at the small puddles and muttered, “Like I give a good rat's ass!”

And thus began what Jack later described as his day of personal divine intervention, the day the good Lord saw fit to waken him to reality.

As he sipped his less-than-perfect coffee, he scanned the faxes in front of him. At first he thought he was hallucinating. He rubbed his eyes, sucked in his breath, and looked down at what he was seeing. The words exploded out of his mouth like gunshots. “Son of a fucking bitch!”

Jack spread the three sheets of paper across his desk. Resignations tendered by Ted Robinson, Joe Espinosa, and Harry Wong. He looked at the dates. Harry's was more than a week old, which meant good old Harry was probably back in the States already. Ted's and Espinosa's were four days old, which meant they, too, were probably back in the States.

Jack's eyes narrowed to slits as he let his mind race. He wondered if he would ever have seen the resignations if Sari hadn't been late that morning. Would she have filed them and not bothered to tell him? Probably, since the no-fraternization rules within Global Securities were strictly enforced. Early on in one of many briefings, he'd been told that no one ever left Global, because it was the perfect job. As one veteran put it, “You hired on, you signed your life away, you got paid five times what you were worth, and you died in the job.” When he'd told all of that to Nikki, she'd gone ballistic. She'd looked him square in the eye and said, “Jack, this is just temporary. If it's long-term for you, I'm leaving now!” He'd been quick to agree to short-term. That was when all the trouble started. Newly married and starting out with that kind of baggage was pretty hard to handle. For both of them.

Nikki's parting words that morning before he'd slammed out of the opulent house were, “I can't take this anymore. I want out of here!” He wanted to scream the same words back to her, but he couldn't for some reason. He was committed to this goddamn job for another three and a half years.

Suddenly, Jack felt like he couldn't breathe. He pushed his chair back from the desk. Owing three and a half years to Global didn't seem to be an issue with Ted, Espinosa, and Harry. They'd packed it in. And all at the same time. Something was going on. Ted? Ted had gut instincts. Reporter instincts. Espinosa was good, too, but Ted was the leader. Harry, now, Harry was a horse of a whole other kind. Harry honored contracts. Harry always did the right thing. Unless he was doing something wrong at his, Jack's, behest. Harry would never quit such a lucrative job without a reason. Ted and Espinosa had ethics, too. So what happened to make the three of them up and quit and head for American shores? Home and hearth? All at the same time. What?

Without thinking, Jack picked up the strange phone from the console that all Global offices had and pressed the number two, which would connect him with Bert Navarro. He didn't even want to think about the damn crazy phone that was so programmed, so futuristic, it made him nuts. Nikki said it was Global's way of cutting him off from the outside world so he could concentrate on the world of Global Securities. The only thing that counted in this godforsaken place. They'd had so many fights over that, he'd lost track.

“Navarro.”

“Emery,” Jack said through clenched teeth. He hated this stupid repartee. “I have here on my desk three resignations. The only reason I think I have them is because my secretary didn't come in this morning, and I personally checked the fax machine and the e-mails. Harry, Ted, and Espinosa quit. I can't be sure, but I think they're all Stateside. Do you know anything about this?”

The silence lasted almost a full minute before Bert replied. “No, Jack, I didn't know. Hell, you were at that same briefing I attended. No one quits or leaves Global unless he's dead, because it's a perfect place to work. What was their reason for leaving?”

“There's nothing on here. And, buddy, just for the record, I hate this fucking job. All Nikki and I do is fight. She slammed me this morning and said she couldn't take it anymore. To be honest, I don't know whether she'll be there when I get home.”

“That's pretty funny, Jack, because Kathryn and I had the same fight last night. She actually packed her bags. She wouldn't look at me this morning. You know what else? I'm with you, I hate this fucking job. I think we were all nuts to sign on to begin with. Are you trying to tell me something here?”

“I was just going to ask you the same question. Look, I love Nikki. If push comes to shove, and we're definitely at the shoving stage right now, I'm going with her. Jellicoe can shove this job with all his rules and regs right up his ass for all I care. By the way, have you seen the great man lately?”

“Not since we walked out of the office after we signed those contracts. I have come to the conclusion, with Kathryn's help, that I am simply not dedicated enough to work for this organization.”

Jack snorted. “I want to know why I have been cut off from all my old friends. Since we all work for the same company, why is that? Every goddamn phone either is jammed or isn't programmed for making calls other than internal ones. I tried going to Internet cafés to get hold of Harry and the others, but the calls won't connect. Nikki said we're Hank Jellicoe's prisoners, and we're just too stupid to know it.”

“That's the same thing Kathryn said,” Bert muttered.

“Like I said, Bert, if my secretary had arrived on time, I seriously doubt I'd even know about Ted, Espinosa, and Harry. But I do know now. You know what else? I'm going home, but I'm going to stop at that swanky hotel on the hill and see if I can get a call through to the States. I think my best bet will be Maggie. You're four hours from me, Bert, what are you going to do?”

“Wait for you to call me back.”

“I might not be coming back. The only way I can reach you is through this dumb-ass phone I'm talking on now.”

“I know you, Jack. You already made up your mind. You aren't coming back. So what's the plan?”

“Jesus, Bert, what do you want from me? I'm actually dizzy with the thought that maybe I can get out of here. Okay, okay, I'm going home to talk to Nikki. Unless she agrees to leave right away, today, I'll come back and call you in, let's say, two hours. That will give you time to go home and talk to Kathryn. You're right. I want out. I wish I'd had the guts to do it earlier.”

“You're seriously thinking of throwing in the towel because…”

“Harry had a reason, so did Ted and Espinosa. Leaving wasn't something they did on a whim; they thought it through. You know them, Bert. They're all thinkers. I don't know what those reasons are, but whatever they turn out to be, that's good enough for me. So, yeah, I'm not just thinking about it, I'm going to do it. I just hope I'm not too late where Nikki is concerned. Listen, I only know this because Nikki said there is a flight out of Heathrow in London at two thirty in the afternoon. Every afternoon, I assume. Obviously, she has or had a plan in place to leave on her own at some point. If we can get a flight out of here in time, and if all goes well and Nikki hasn't left on her own, we'll be on that flight. If you don't hear from me and are planning to leave, meet us at Heathrow. We'll wait for you until the day after tomorrow. But if you're not there, we'll take the two thirty that day to the States. Right now, the only thing that matters to me is Nikki and saving my marriage. You do what you have to do, Bert. I'm going to do what I have to do. See ya, buddy.”

Jack felt like he was walking on air as he galloped out of the office and down the two flights of stairs of the impressive building that belonged to Global Securities. He zipped through the door and jogged to the nearest Internet café, where he paid for Internet service and fired off an e-mail to Maggie Spritzer at the
Post
in Washington, D.C. The message was short and sweet.
Watch the skies, we're coming home
. He hit the
SEND
button and wanted to cry when the message wouldn't go through. He deleted the message and left the café. “Screw you, Jellicoe!”
Please let her be there when I get home,
he said silently over and over as he walked the short distance to the house he shared with Nikki, the house owned by Global. Not for the first time, he wondered if the house was bugged. Nikki said it was, but she couldn't find the bugs.

Jack blasted through the front door, shouting Nikki's name as he made his way through the thirteen-thousand-square-foot house, which was twelve thousand square feet too big for him and Nikki.

Nikki appeared at a set of French doors. Jack never came home in the middle of the morning. “What's wrong?” she said, alarm ringing in her voice.

“I don't know what's wrong, but something is going on that is giving me the heebie-jeebies. What I do know is we're going home. And we're going
NOW.
Do you want to pack, or are you ready to go as you are? There's not one damn thing I want to take with me. There's a flight out of here in ninety minutes. We might get lucky and snag seats.”

“Oh, Jack, are you sure? I thought this day would never come. I hate it here, Jack. I hate Global. I hate this house. I hate this country. But I do love you. I'm ready. There's nothing I want to take from here, either,” she said breathlessly as she reached for her purse, which was hanging on a hook by the front door. She checked to make sure her passport was inside. It was. “Where's your passport, Jack?”

Jack held the door for his wife as he patted the inside of his jacket. “I say we drive and leave the car at the airport. I'll lock it and mail the keys back to this office.”

“Oh, my God! Are you sure we're going to be able to leave? What if we can't get a flight?” Nikki fretted.

Jack settled himself behind the wheel of a top-of-the-line Mercedes Benz and turned the key. Without missing a beat as he backed up the car, he said, “We are taking the next flight out of here, and I don't give a shit where it's going. You okay with that, Nik?”

“Better than okay,” Nikki said, squeezing her husband's arm. “Do you want to tell me what's going on?”

Jack took his eyes off the road, mouthed the word “bug,” and said, “We'll have all the time in the world to talk on the plane. It's a long flight.”

That was good enough for Nikki. She squeezed his arm again and tried to inch closer, but the console in the middle kept her at bay. “Oh, Jack, I am so happy. Every day since we got here and all those other stopover places, I have prayed that we could go home. I know we're going to have to pay back the money. I don't care about that. I'll waitress, I'll clean people's houses, I'll work three jobs, I don't care.”

“It's not going to come to that, Nik. I can still practice law, and for all you know, your license was reinstated in the time we've been gone. Our lives from here on in will be whatever we make of them. I hope Bert makes his flight. I told him we'd meet up in London at Heathrow. Whoever gets there first waits for the other one.”

“Is…is this mutiny, Jack?” Nikki whispered. Jack nodded, his face grim.

Jack concentrated on the road and the dust clouds that were everywhere. God, how he hated this place. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Never in his life had he made such a rash, wildly impetuous move as this one. He'd always considered himself a stable, think-it-through kind of guy. And here he was, throwing in the towel, tossing money down the tubes, and heading back to safe, familiar shores with a relief so profound that no words could describe it.

As the powerful Mercedes bounced along the rutted road, Nikki's hold on Jack's arm grew tighter. By the time they were two miles from the airport her hold on Jack's arm was leaving bruises, but he didn't care. His own grip on the steering wheel was viselike.

“Promise me, Jack, that you will never, ever take me to a zoo where they have camels. Promise me you will never, ever show me a picture of this country. Because if you do, I will have to kill you. Do you hear me, Jack?”