THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO (22 page)

“That was close,” she whispered.

Eli winked at her. “Fun, huh?”

She shook her head and watched as those who had been underground gathered together topside. They appeared to be finishing up their conversation. Some handshakes were exchanged, but one man stood off to the side. Alone. It was Hayes. Megan couldn’t see his face too well in the dim light of the house, but she could sense by the way the man was standing apart from the others that something was wrong. Just then, another of the guests moved out from behind one of the others. Megan felt a chill run down her spine. The wash from one of the lights in the house had revealed the very thing Megan had feared since this morning. Alex Smith was alive.

Almost as soon as she thought it, Smith seemed to turn her attention from the other men. She stepped away as though she had heard something. She began walking toward the field where Megan and Eli were hiding. Megan reached behind her and placed her hand on the butt of her weapon. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Eli already had his in hand. Smith had advanced almost to the edge of the grass. She stopped and swept her gaze over the field.

“Ms. Smith, can I see you for a moment?”

It was one of the men from the group. Alex Smith turned and walked back to where she had come from.

“That chick gives me the creeps,” Eli whispered when she was gone.

“We need to move. Now.”

Megan stayed in a low crouch and began to retreat back the way they had come. Eli followed quietly behind. When they were a good halfway back, they both stood and took off at a dead run.

“We need to get back to the car and get it off the road before they leave,” Megan said in between breaths. “Smith already sensed that something was wrong a minute ago. If she pulls out of here and sees that car on the side of the road, she’ll know. And then instead of us hunting them, she’ll be hunting us.”

“There’s no better sport than a good hunt,” Eli said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, I prefer that we’re the ones doing the hunting.”

They came out on the other side of the trees. The car was across the road and waiting where they’d left if. They jumped in and Megan started the engine.

“We need to head back down the road to that gas station we saw a mile or so back,” Eli said.

“For what?”

“It’ll give us a good view as they pass us. We can pull out behind and follow.”

“If they even come this way,” she said. “And who are we going to follow? There’s five of them.”

“I say we follow Smith.”

“Are you crazy? Eli, I’ve already had one run-in with that lunatic. She almost killed me. She’ll spot us before we even pull out of the gas station. What about the guy wearing the sport coat?”

“We don’t need to follow him,” Eli said in a cold, flat tone. “I know who he is.”

Megan was stunned. “You do? How? Who is he?”

“Former secretary of the navy, Jake Irving.”

Megan’s jaw dropped. “No way.”

“Why would Irving—how could he even be involved in any of this?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I believe that other chap that was standing beside him was his son-in-law.”

Megan was completely dumbfounded. She was an American. A federal agent. If anyone should have a clue as to who those men were, it should be her. Instead, she was getting a civics lesson from an Englishman. “How do you know—”

“Hello…James Bond, remember?” He laughed. “Just kidding. I’ve had some dealings with Irving. Back when I served His Majesty’s Royal Navy. I only know about his son-in-law because I attended the wedding.”

Megan just looked at him.

“It was a diplomatic gesture.” Then, “There. There’s the gas station. Look, there are several cars there. Pull in facing the road, like you’re getting fuel, and stop.”

Megan did as Eli instructed. She put the lever in P
ARK
.

“Now, get out and change spots with me,” Eli said. “I’m driving.”

“What? Why?”

“Because, I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you. And we’re following Smith.”

“You don’t even know if she’s going to come through this way.”

Eli opened the door and got out. “Then we better hurry. So we’re not sitting here arguing when she does.”

“Fine.”

She got out and went around to the other side. Eli got in the driver’s side and adjusted the seat and mirrors. She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket. She had some gum in there, and her mouth was dry after running through the field. As soon as she stuck her hand in the pocket her heart sank and a feeling of dread settled in.

“Eli, we have to go back.”

H
ayes couldn’t believe his friends had turned on him so quickly. He had spent hours upon hours writing out the documents needed—complete with constitutional cross-references. Everything they needed to remove Walker from power was right there. Walker still hadn’t appointed a new vice president. And with most of Congress already on his and Pemberton’s side, they could’ve forced Walker to name Joe the next VP. They could’ve used that leverage to make Walker resign. Sure, it would be messy. A vice presidential nomination would normally have to go through a mandatory investigation and vetting process, followed by a congressional hearing, and then a confirmation. The plan was to forgo all of that and just anoint Joe as the new vice president. And the American people might question the legality of it, but he had it covered. Any open-minded judge could see it plainly. And the US Supreme Court was stacked with liberals. Walker would’ve had no choice. The country needed a tough president, and Walker definitely wasn’t that man. With support of more than half of Congress—and Joe leading the charge for wanting to take over—it would’ve been a spectacular sight. One that the history books would’ve written about. And children for years to come would study how it all had happened. And he would’ve been known as the architect of it all.

“Well, gentlemen, if there’s nothing else…,” Pemberton was saying to the others.

“Milton, you going to be okay with this?” It was the governor.

Hayes sat there with his arms crossed for a few seconds, not answering. Finally, he unfolded his arms and leaned into the table. “I guess I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

“Then it’s settled.” Pemberton smacked his palm down on the table. “Let’s get out of here.”

The five of them made their way topside. Joe, Gavin, and Irving all stood around, shooting the breeze, talking about meaningless, stupid things. The woman leaned against her car—which was currently blocked in—acting as though she couldn’t care less about anything the men were talking about. He didn’t blame her. He didn’t even want to be near them right now. He turned and walked away in the other direction.

He had just walked past the corner of the Shed when he noticed something on the ground, lying just beside the tin siding, but almost obscured by a clump of tall weeds. Had he not happened to look in that direction, he might have never seen it. He bent over and picked it up. A leather wallet of some sort. He opened it and looked inside. Immediately, his breathing became labored. He felt like he was going to pass out. He had to bend over and put his hand on his knee and catch his breath. This couldn’t be. How in the—? He looked again, just to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. There it was: FBI, M
EGAN
T
AYLOR
.

He quickly folded the wallet and placed it in his inside coat pocket. He couldn’t let anyone else know he had been followed. He had to think. He had to get out of there.

He walked back over to the others, trying to remain calm—though his hands were trembling uncontrollably inside his coat pockets. “Fellas, I believe I will retire for the evening. Thank you all for coming to meet with me and Gavin tonight. I know I got a little excited down there, but I think you’re right. This is the way we need to proceed.”

Pemberton winked and slapped him on the shoulder. “Atta boy, Milton.”

Irving and the governor nodded. “Tough times require tough decisions,” Irving said.

Hayes began to feel nauseous. Right now, he just wanted to get away. He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess you’re right, Jake. We’ll do whatever it takes.” He jumped in his pickup truck and started the engine. He noticed that the woman had left her car and was staring out into the field. She looked as though she was searching the field for something. Again his chest started to tighten. Was Taylor out there, watching them right now? He couldn’t take it anymore.

He whipped the truck around in the drive and punched the gas.

Alex was leaning against her rental car, trying to ignore the random, generic conversation the other men were having. All she wanted right now was to get back to the Marriott. She and Farid had another spectacular night planned. She still couldn’t leave yet. Irving had her blocked in. She stepped out from behind Irving just to get some space.

When she did, she caught a faint whiff of something as the wind blew into her face. It was subtle, but she was sure she caught it. It smelled like…she couldn’t place her finger on it. But she’d smelled it before. She walked toward the field to see if she could smell it again. It had come and gone so quickly, she wasn’t even sure if it had come from the field.

She stood there for a moment, sensing something was amiss. Normally, when she felt like this, she would go into full-on operation mode. But maybe she was being paranoid. Besides, she was out in the middle of a field in North Carolina in the dark. And as far as the world was concerned, she was dead. No, she finally reasoned, she was just sensing the anticipation of being back in the game. Living in that weird tension between—

The sound of Hayes’s pickup brought her back. She turned to see the man speeding down the dirt drive.

“Ms. Smith, can I see you for a moment?”

It was Pemberton. She turned around and walked back to the men. He spoke to her with his back to the others and asked her to stay for a minute. She nodded and stepped away, as the others said their good-byes and loaded into their vehicles.

She sensed something behind her. She turned to see that Pemberton was less than a foot away. She was a little unnerved at the fact that she hadn’t heard him coming up behind her. The old man was sneaky. She would have to remember that.

“Alex—may I call you Alex?”

“Sure. Alex is fine.”

“Good. I wanted to speak with you privately about—” He looked at her questioningly. “Is everything all right?”

She relaxed a little. “Yes, everything is fine. What did you need?”

Pemberton’s dark eyes shifted back and forth. “I’m afraid we might have a problem.”

“With?”

“Milton.”

“How so?”

Pemberton let out a long sigh. “This morning—well, this afternoon, actually—I spoke with Milton on the phone. He was very distraught. Seems last night, when he got home, two federal agents were in his house.”

“Go on.”

“Milton and I have been friends for a long time. We went to Yale together. It’s a long story. And I won’t bother you with the details, but let’s just say that we’ve both gone to great lengths to keep the fact that we’re associates from people. Milton is a Supreme Court judge. I’m a cutthroat businessman. We’re kind of like oil and water—we just don’t mix well in social situations. You get what I’m saying?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

“The bottom line is, Milton is one of those big social activists. He loves this country, but he’s just a nut about some things.”

“What’s your point, Mr. Pemberton?”

“The point is Milton has a hard time keeping his mouth shut about things sometimes. And I’m afraid he’s going to be a liability. I’ve known Milton for over thirty years. When he left here a few minutes ago, he wasn’t acting right. What if those agents got to him?”

It definitely was a possibility. She’d seen better men crumble under less pressure.

Pemberton swept his arm through the air. “And I can’t have that. I’m sorry. I just can’t. Milton and I are friends, but this is too important.”

A tingle started to develop at the base of her neck. She could sense what was coming. “So what do you want to do?”

He looked at her for a long while. His face seemed to twist and turn. She could tell it was eating him from the inside out. She loved this part—the part where they wrestled with making the decision. They hemmed and hawed about it, usually. Just like Pemberton was doing now. But they always came around in the end. “Mr. Pemberton, what would you like me to do?”

“I think you know what I want you to do,” he barked. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

She smiled to herself. “Sorry, Mr. Pemberton. I already told you my rule. You have to say it.”

P
resident Walker sat in his private study pouring over the speech he was going to give the next afternoon. He had torn up three drafts already and was on his fourth. He just couldn’t get the wording right. The speechwriters had insisted he let them craft the speech, but he had shut them down. This was going to be one of the most important speeches that any president in American history would give. It had to be perfect. And it had to come from him. Not a team of writers.