Life of Secrets (19 page)

Matt Barr stood
in the millimeter-wave scanner holding his hands above his head. He stepped out
and smiled at the guard.

"You’re
clean," the guard said.

Moments later,
another guard passed him back his package, with a similar statement.

"Clean."

Matt smiled and
wished him a nice day. He felt lucky to get the package back. Most of the time,
visitors to federal prisons weren’t allowed to bring in gifts. They were
supposed to be mailed, eventually reaching the prisoner after a long series of
checks. It helped to have a Congressman pull some strings.

He stepped into
the visitors' area, with its cheap furniture and federal utilitarian decor. On
one wall hung a portrait of the Attorney General. On another, a portrait of the
President. Perhaps it would soon be replaced by a picture of John Hicks or
Lance Reeder. Mike’s hopes for a leader who could really change the country
would have to wait.

One wall was
all windows, looking out over the exercise yard. Matt found himself drawn to it
as he waited.

Women in orange
jumpsuits busied themselves with weights or other activities. But they all gave
a wide berth to one in particular.

She moved,
quickly and precisely, through a series of choreographed turns and motions.
Although Matt knew almost nothing about such things, he had heard them
described often enough. It was clearly a martial arts form – a series of
techniques strung together in such a way that it looked half like a dance and
half like a fight against invisible opponents.

Her hair was
jet black again and growing quickly—it was already shoulder length. Her small
frame spun with every turn, punching and kicking in an order Matt wished he
understood. It was beautiful. Her hair flew with every turn, blowing over her
eyes, masking the deadly serious look she wore.

She finished
the form, bowing and standing at attention before an instructor or audience
that only she could see. Matt imagined the black belt that belonged around her
waist.

One of the
guards walked up to her. The glass and the distance ensured Matt couldn’t hear,
but he saw lips move as the guard spoke. Words were exchanged. Alyssa looked up
toward his window. Matt waved, unsure if she could see him.

A few minutes
later a buzzer sounded, and the guard in the visiting area went over to the
rear door. There was a metallic clank, and the door swung open. Alyssa Chambers
entered, walking with the same poise and composure she would have had in a
business suit, lecturing students, or in a set of black combat fatigues,
scaling the wall of a building.

She smiled at
Matt and eased into one of the cheap plastic chairs in a small conversation
square. Matt walked over and took the seat next to her. She patted his hand and
said, "Thanks for stopping by."

"How could
I not. How are you?"

"It’s not
that bad really. I had a few fights in my first couple days, but none of them
were a real challenge. Once you show you can beat anyone in here, there’s no
problem being left alone."

"For all
the years I’ve known you – even after I knew about your secret career – I never
imagined you describing prison as ‘not that bad.’"

Alyssa smiled
back at him.

"I don’t
have secrets to keep anymore. Everyone knows everything about me. It’s amazing
how that solves your stress problems."

"It’s
still hard for me to take," he replied. "You proved them wrong. You
proved you didn’t do it. You even handed them not only the trigger man but the
man who paid to have the assassination committed, and instead of getting a
medal, you’re in prison."

She shrugged.

"You saw
the trial as well as I did. I can’t say they got anything wrong. I am indeed
guilty of ten counts of breaking and entering, nearly as many counts of theft,
a few random counts of assaulting a law enforcement officer… I pled guilty for
a reason. It was a good deal. They only charged me with half of what I
did."

"Besides,
the media invested a lot of time and effort into getting people to hate me. The
public wasn’t ready to buy ‘oops, we were wrong, she’s innocent.’ They had been
told I deserved punishment, and they wanted to see punishment. I’m probably
going to be the subject of conspiracy books for decades. My
name’ll
wind up synonymous with the grassy knoll.

"I don’t
blame them for charging me."

Matt, bemused,
shook his head. "I doubt your father is handling prison as well as
you."

Alyssa
shrugged.

"I’m not
ready to talk about him yet."

An awkward
silence followed, until the reporter asked, "What are you going to do
now?"

She shrugged.

"Theoretically
sit here for the next thirty years. I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.
Being a professor was never more than a cover. Being an operative is over now. No
one’s going to want to hire the one plumber everyone in America recognizes. I
don’t know if I want to get out. I don’t know if I care. There’s nothing I want
out there."

Matt gave her a
lopsided grin and, with one hand, pointed vaguely in his own direction.

"I’d like
it if you were out."

She smiled.

"I’m glad
you came to visit, Matt. That’s a change, right? I look forward to seeing you.
I don’t know what happens from here. I like you and want you to come around
again. Can you be comfortable with that and leave the rest for later?"

Matt nodded,
smiling. It was the most she’d ever said about liking him.

"I brought
you a present," he said, pulling the heavy book out from under his arm.

She raised her
eyebrows. "Usually those have to come through the administration."

He gave her a
wink. "We have a Congressman pulling strings. That makes it easier to get
the Bureau of Prisons to allow an exception."

"How is
Mike?"

"Good.
Talking about maybe running for Senate."

"Following
in Rich’s footsteps?"

"He won’t
say it that way, but yeah. America needs a leader who puts principles over
politics. We need a President who cares more about what's right than about what
will win. We can't have Rich West, but I think Mike could be a good substitute.
This gift is actually from Mike and his wife and me."

He passed over
the thick, heavy book with a black, pebbled leather binding and title in gold.

"I think I
have some idea how you feel, Alyssa. There was a time when I thought there was
nothing out there I wanted. When I had reached rock bottom and felt like
everything I cared about was gone, what helped me come back was learning to
forgive, and learning the truth about loving someone."

The guard was
trying to get Matt’s attention. His time was up. He stood and smiled at Alyssa
one more time.

"Give that
a read. It's written for people who need a second chance."

♦

Did you like Life of Secrets?

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Death of Secrets
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Sons of Thunder
:
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Acknowledgements

Thanks God! Thank you Stephanie, again and always. Mom.
Vicki: I can never thank you enough for absolutely amazing editing. Sherrie
Dolby-
Arnoldy
: Thank you for still more great
editing. My sister Jane. Kris. EJ, for being one of the
first beta-readers when Alyssa was half-finished and completely different. I
have one friend who helps tremendously with my writing but likes to remain
anonymous, so to him I'll just say, "Thank you, House Buck." For
everyone I should have thanked and didn't, thank you and I'm sorry.