THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO (2 page)

Pemberton—or the old man, as he was called by his friends—had offered the Shed for tonight’s meeting. An offer that was readily accepted by all parties involved.
One can’t be too careful these days
, he thought. No one ever knew whether or not the Chinese were going to come over the mountains at any second, or if that imbecile Walker was going to negotiate more land over to those communists. Sure, Walker had promised that he was going to see to it that they did everything they could to ensure the United States’ return to greatness. The only problem was, the idiot was trying to change everything great about what was left of the country.

As he kicked back and forth in the old wooden rocking chair on the wraparound porch, Pemberton saw the headlights from the cars bounce off the trees, swinging back and forth as the small dirt road curved and twisted. Moments later, two vehicles—an older model pickup truck and a new SUV—stopped in front of the old yellow farmhouse. Pemberton waited for the two men to exit their vehicles and then, without a word, stood up and motioned for them to follow him around the side of the house to the backyard.

A small, dilapidated structure sat at the edge of the yard, leaning against the back row of thirty-foot-tall pine trees. The Shed. No one would ever guess this old shed was the entrance to one of the most secure facilities on earth. Pemberton held a hand up to halt everyone outside the door and silently stepped inside and found the hidden keypad behind the workbench. He punched in the numbers and stepped back outside. He motioned for the others to follow him.

As Pemberton moved over to allow the others in, he reached out and pulled one of the others back. “Wanna watch where you’re steppin’ there, hoss.” With almost surprising swiftness, the concrete slab on the floor had released a
phst!
and began to rapidly move to the side, revealing a set of stairs that led down into the dark earth.

Pemberton began to descend the stairs. “Better shake a leg, fellas,” he called over his shoulder. “This thing’s gonna reset itself in a minute.”

The guests followed him down the dark stairwell.

Once inside the room, Pemberton gestured for his guests to take a seat. He, of course, took the Aresline. Once everyone was seated, he began.

“Good to see you, Judge. Thanks for coming, Governor.”

Both men nodded.

“Milton said this was urgent. That it was something that needed my direct attention,” the governor said.

Pemberton looked at the other man. “You tell him anything, Milton?”

“Nothing specific. But I think we all know why we’re here.”

“Do we?” It was the governor.

Pemberton pursed his lips and folded one of his long skinny arms up under the other one, resting his finger in the cleft of his chin. “Lemme ask you something, Joe. When you were a little boy, when you thought about what you wanted to be when you grew up, what was it?”

The governor thought about it for a moment. “I wanted to be a fireman.”

“So then why aren’t you a fireman?”

The governor shifted in his seat. “Well, I guess because…well…Look, I just wanted to help people, really.”

“And that’s why you ran for governor,” Pemberton said.

“Yes.”

Pemberton leaned forward. “And that’s why I got you elected. Because I saw something great in you. It’s why I spent the kind of money I did on you, boy. Because I knew you couldn’t be shaken. That you’d do whatever you needed to do, in order to maintain the greatness of this state.”

“Thank you, Gavin. I appreciate your kind words.”

“And I know that you ain’t gonna kowtow to any special interest groups,” Pemberton continued. “It’s your beliefs on God is what’s got me fired up!”

“I don’t understand,” the governor said. “You know my position on that. I’m an atheist.”

“Exactly!”

“Perhaps I can shed some light here,” the judge said.

Pemberton swept his arm out in a gesture, giving the judge the floor.

“Joe, it’s been over four months since the Chinese attacked. We all know how close this country came to almost losing everything. If it weren’t for sheer dumb luck and an exceptional operative named Jon Keene, we’d all be wearing red and pledging allegiance to the People’s Republic of China.

“Gavin and I have been talking for a while now. President Walker is adamant about his decision to stand still at this time and exhibit no aggression toward the Chinese.” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “That’s ludicrous, in our minds. Once our boys got back here on our shores with the help of the Royal Navy, we should have gone full throttle back at them. We should have pushed them right back through those border towns they crossed and right into the Pacific Ocean.” He jabbed a finger through the air. “Not just stop and negotiate new borders. What kind of president does that?”

“A coward! That’s who!” Pemberton snapped.

The governor nodded. It was no secret he had objections to the way President Walker had handled the crisis. He had called him misguided and accused him of playing upon the fears of people who ignorantly placed their hope in something that didn’t exist by giving credence to the man who called himself the Prophet.

“Listen, Joe,” the judge continued, “they may call this part of the country the Bible Belt, but I’m here to tell you that there are a lot of people who couldn’t give a care about changing the kinds of things Walker is talking about changing. The man’s gone mad! People down here don’t want that kind of change. We liked our country just fine the way it was before Walker and Grant let it get sold out right out from under their noses.”

“So what do you want me to do about it?” the governor said.

“We want you to be our president,” Pemberton said.

The governor laughed a throaty, short laugh.

“We’re serious,” the judge said.

“And how do you plan on making that happen?” the governor said, still chuckling.

The judge stood up from his chair and went to the wet bar. He poured himself two fingers of Pemberton’s thirty-year-old scotch. He glanced over to the other two to see if they, too, wanted one. They both nodded and the judge poured the round.

Sitting back down, he continued, “I’ve been on the North Carolina Supreme Court for eighteen years now. I’ve seen a lot come and go. I’ve seen laws that should have never been remain laws. And I’ve seen laws that were rock solid get thrown out like yesterday’s table scraps.

“I say that to say this: in 1869, the United States Supreme Court ruled that a state did
not
have the right to secede from the union. But here’s the thing. It was against the law for us to secede from England when we wanted our freedom. They said it was against the law when the South tried to secede from the North. But the bottom line is this: our own Declaration of Independence lays out the grounds for when the people of this country should rise up and defend what they know to be right.”

He pulled out a small piece of paper and unfolded it. Retrieving his reading glasses from his pocket, he smoothed the page and began to read aloud.

“When, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.”

The governor cleared his throat and tried to say something, but only a squeak came out. He coughed and pounded himself in the chest. “I’m sorry, I guess that scotch went down the wrong pipe. Milton, Gavin, I’ve known you two for a long time. You both are like a second set of granddads to me. But gentlemen, what you are suggesting is treason.”

Pemberton shot out of his chair. “Treason? Treason! I’ll tell you what’s treason. Letting the gal-dern Chinese set off ten suitcase nukes on our West Coast is treason! Sitting back and watching them come unimpeded across our border was treason! President Walker ain’t fit to run a shoe store, let alone this country. And I
won’t
sit by idly and watch them ruin everything my family and I have worked for almost three hundred years to achieve.”

“Calm down, Gavin,” the judge said.

Pemberton drained his glass and slammed it back down on the desk before taking his seat again.

“Joe, what Gavin is saying is, there are those of us who have already been moving toward a solution. This thing has come together quick, I must say. But in the end, it was inevitable. We can’t sit back and let some wacko religious zealots manipulate this country into changing what we are. We have to act now.”

The governor twirled his finger around his glass. He took a big swallow, stood up, got himself a refill, and sat back down. “So this isn’t just some fly-by-night fancy that you two have cooked up?”

Pemberton leaned forward onto the desk. “Son, I’ve got no less than two hundred of the top business minds in these southern states ready to pour resources into whatever we need to make this happen. Milton has been in meetings with justices from every state supreme court from Virginia to Georgia. We don’t like Walker’s idea of running this country. What’s left of it. We need to take it back. We need to kick these Chinese back to where they came from. And we don’t need some crackpot calling himself a prophet dictating government policy. We’re doing this. And we want you at the helm.”

“Why me?”

“Because,” the judge said, “you already have executive experience and people love you. And like you said. You don’t even believe in God. Why would you base your country’s future on what some kook says, ‘God says…’?”

The governor finished his second drink and grabbed the other two men’s glasses. He poured them all another round and sat back down. “You realize what you’re asking. Right?”

The old man and the judge nodded.

“I mean, this is going to cause a lot of waves.”

They nodded again.

“I’m serious, gentlemen. I mean this could cause an all-out second civil war. Are you prepared for that?”

Pemberton raised his glass. “Son, we’re not just prepared for it.” He slowly tipped it back and took a sip. “We’re counting on it!”

American Hospital, Dubai

She could hear them. They would come and go, in and out of the room. She knew they were talking about her, but she couldn’t make out anything they said. It was like she was underwater. She could hear the voices, but they all sounded muffled and distorted.

Over the last few days, she had tried to open her eyes. To let them know she was there. But they just wouldn’t open. And it hurt. It hurt to breathe. Not long ago, she thought she had moved a finger, but she couldn’t tell. It was like she was trapped inside a padded room, with someone squeezing her eyes shut. She tried to fight against it, but nothing happened.

This last time they came around, though, was different. The voices weren’t muffled. She was able to understand them. At first she was excited.
Finally!
But still, she couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. But she could hear them.

The first voice she was able to make out was a woman’s. Arabic. It took a few minutes for her to will her brain to translate. But finally, she had made her mind shift gears. She only grabbed sporadic words at first, but then after a few minutes of trying to concentrate, her brain was translating.

“…Charts are the same. I don’t understand. How can she be showing improvement, but not responding?” the woman was saying.

I’m here!
she screamed—inside her head.
Can’t you see that?

The woman, whoever she was, had left again. She was alone.

She started to get angry at herself. She had no idea what was going on. Why was she here? Why couldn’t she open her eyes? She felt the rage building up inside her. Someone was coming again. Footsteps. Several sets.

“We cannot keep her on support much longer,” a voice said. “She’s using up valuable resources. We don’t even know who she is.”

A new voice: “Yes, but the sheer fact that she has survived this is extraordinary! If she comes out, we need to study her. Ask her what she remembers.”

“Well,” the first voice said again, “Director Hassan will not permit us to keep her on like this. He has instructed that we stop life support. I’m sorry. We cannot continue this.”

The second voice again: “Are you mad? This woman is a medical miracle! There is absolutely no reason whatsoever that she should even be alive right now. Tell Rashid I will take full responsibility for her.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Naser,” the first voice said. “I have my orders. You can take it up with the director yourself.”

“Wait!” It was the second voice. “Let me have a few minutes alone with her.”

“For what?”

“To…say good-bye. Make my peace with it.”

She felt her heart rate increasing. What was happening? The one man had said something about life support? What did he mean? She didn’t need life support. She was here! She was alive! She just couldn’t communicate that.

She felt a warm, soft hand touch her arm. She recognized the touch. It was as if she had experienced it before. Suddenly, a wave of blurry memories came at her. This man, the one who was touching her, had been here before. Many times, actually. She was remembering. She could recall hearing his voice several times recently. As she came out of the blackness. He was there. He had talked to her. Often. And now he was arguing with someone else about something…life support. What did that mean?