The Crimson Fall (The Sons of Liberty Book 1) (17 page)

“After everything you said today regarding this heirloom I am surprised you would almost leave it behind, Mr. Reinhart. You must be in a hurry to go. You sure you did not . . . leave anything else?”

Adam reached for the rifle case, but just as he took a hold of the handle, Lukas jerked the bag and Adam close.

“Anything at all?”

Adam finally broke his stare and looked down. “No, Mr. President. I’m leaving now.”

Lukas let go of the case and stuck out his hand. Adam reached out with his injured palm to shake the president’s hand, but the man pulled Adam in close as soon as he had a grip. Lukas squeezed hard, causing Adam to wince. Lukas moved in closer, looked deep into Adam’s eyes, and let loose a small taste of his wrath.

“What the hell are you up to?”

Adam ripped his hand back, trying hard not to show his discomfort outwardly as he did so.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. President.”

Lukas stepped back and smiled as his eyes glared at Adam.

“I’ll be watching you, Congressman,” he said. “We all will.”

Adam turned and headed straight to his car, walking as fast as he could. When he reached the stone fence he turned aside and proceeded to empty his stomach loudly. He stood back up, glancing over the fence and back toward the house where he saw the president at a window, watching him from the dark interior beyond. Adam thought of the sharp shooters and looked toward the tree line, wondering if he could move in time if he saw a sniper’s flash. He tried to gauge the distance and remember how long the flight time of Lukas’ earlier shot had been before impact, but he quickly decided to think of something else. Still, all he could wonder was what it would feel like to have one of Lukas’ Forty-Six Caliber armor-piercing bullets rip through his heart. He wondered if he would actually feel a thing other than regret.

Adam ran to his car and opened the driver’s side door. He threw his rifle bag on top of the case that contained Lukas’ monster weapon, started the car, and floored it before fully shutting the door. The tires kicked up rocks as he sped away down the long, gravel driveway, hoping that if God was real, looking down on him after all, that maybe he would keep him alive for another day.

Lukas walked back to his den, passing through the side door and walking down the long gallery, and entered his trophy room. The subtle light reflected off the broken pieces of glass that crunched underneath his boots. He approached the wreckage strewn on the far end of the room, took his Silver Star, and placed it on the shelf above. He grabbed his precious revolver that he had dropped in his quick pursuit of the congressman and turned it over, inspecting it for damage. Small nicks now dotted the decorative weapon and some of the silver engraving had been dislodged. But as angry as he was about its new imperfections, he was there to search for something else. Something hidden. He carefully set the ruined revolver aside and looked into what had been his display case.
What had he been looking for?
Lukas glanced over everything, but he did not see anything out of the ordinary. Only shards of glass, the occasional cannonball, and broken wood remained. Frustrated, he picked up the ruined case, held it over his head, and threw it hard to the ground with a curse.

Suddenly, his breath caught in his throat. He bent down and picked up a piece of the shattered box. The torn corner of a small envelope—much like those his previous wife had used so often—was lodged in between two pieces of wood. After a moment he pulled it free and walked back into his office.

He sat down and placed the tiny piece of paper on his desk, called down one of his drones, and accessed the display on its side that had recorded the day’s events. He sped through the hours of footage until he found what he was looking for. He watched the congressman, visibly nervous about something, as he destroyed the case in what Lukas now saw as no accident. He then watched Adam bend down and rip something away from the broken wooden display while Lukas had his back turned.

Something small,
he thought.
Like an envelope.

He knew Adam had taken something, but the idea that maybe, just maybe, Sue had hidden that something all those years ago was what truly terrified him.
What had been in that envelope? What did the bitch hide?
He knew she had discovered the affair, though he had never found out how. He was horrified to think that she might have concealed the information about it; information that was now in the hands of Adam Reinhart. Lukas’ eye began to twitch and he could already see Rhys having a field day if information about the affair went public. A few hours and a few more glasses of his Scotch disappeared with Lukas sitting quietly, turning the edge of the envelope over and over as he contemplated just what to do. Whatever it was that had been stolen, Adam had gone through quite the ordeal to find it. Nevertheless, there was a solution for the unknown. Lukas tapped his earpiece and spoke the number he had reserved for occasions such as these.

After three rings, John Fresnel picked up.

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“John,” Lukas began, “I need a favor and I need you to do it yourself. It needs to be quick and it needs to be clean. We cannot afford any mistakes or loose ends.”

A few brief moments of silence passed before John spoke.

“Usually this kind of request ends with pretty specific instructions, Mr. President. Whatever or whoever it is, say the word and you know it will be done.”

Lukas hesitated, but not for long.

“Adam Reinhart is a threat after all.”

“And what would you like me to do about that threat, Mr. President?”

“Follow him,” he said quickly. “Watch him for a day or so. He just left my home a few hours ago so he should not be hard to locate. Find out where he is heading and what he intends to do, if you can.”

“And then what, Mr. President?”

Lukas paused, wondering if what he was about to say was the right decision, but he could not think of a way around it. He knew he should have contacted the others, or Maria at least, to consult with them first as they had made him swear to do so. But he also knew that if he failed his brothers again, it could be his blood on the carpet next time. Lukas downed the rest of his Scotch and leaned back in his chair before quietly giving the order.

“Kill him.”

C
hapter
N
ine

The Ascent

The narrow streets of downtown Chicago were unusually empty for a Saturday night. A few car horns cried out here and there, though heavily muffled by the fierce thunderstorm overhead as they echoed down the tight corridors, bouncing between the tall, old skyscrapers that towered above. A handful of people ran with their wide umbrellas, trying in vain to stay dry as they raced toward the night’s last destination. Every so often, lightning would flash across the dark sky, illuminating the otherwise hidden buildings. The rhythmic drum of the windshield wipers matched that of the old truck’s turn signal as Adam turned onto North Rush Street. He wished there had been more people out that night for his safety, but nevertheless, he was happy for the rain. FODs might be high-tech and water resistant, but they were not invincible
,
and they did especially poor when lightning was abundant in the air. A storm with heavy rain and strong winds such as the one that raged above usually meant they were grounded until clear skies came again, and for that, Adam felt somewhat at ease.

Adam had barely slept since leaving Lukas’ home the day before. Fear had gripped him so fiercely that he hadn’t let off the gas until he was a few miles outside the ranch; even then he had refused to slow down by much. He knew Lukas could track him through the navigation system built into his car and his nVision system, so he had written down the numbers he needed, grabbed what he could carry that wouldn’t give away his whereabouts, and proceeded to ditch everything else—including his vehicle—into the river just outside of Kanawha Falls late that Friday evening. He had walked and hitchhiked his way to the outskirts of Charleston, West Virginia with nothing but his two rifle cases, the clothes on his back, and a constant paranoia.

The next morning Adam gave a local man Lukas’ monster of a rifle he had been gifted for his old pickup truck, filled up to the brim with fuel. It was hardly a legal trade, but Adam couldn’t care less at that point. He even managed to barter for two more five-gallon containers of gas in the bed. When the deal was done, he had tossed his Garand on the seat next to him and tucked the old gray pistol Elizabeth had given him behind his belt. He was still not used to carrying the thing and he forgot about it half of the time, only to be reminded by having the steel jab his lower back when he shifted. Still, he would have been a fool to do otherwise and he had decided it was as good of a time as any to start carrying a weapon. After that, with a hooded sweatshirt pulled over his head, he had headed into Charleston. He grabbed food to go and picked up a cheap prepaid phone that still operated on the cellular networks. Adam drove a couple more hours until he felt safe and finally stopped to eat and shut his eyes for a bit.

Even with exhaustion rolling over him, sleep had proven to evade him. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything that happened the day before and he cursed himself for the twentieth time for being so blatantly obvious at Lukas’ ranch. He reached into his jean pocket and pulled out what he had found hidden in the envelope. It was an old, black USB drive, much like the type that had been used for years before the biometric cloud-storage craze over the past decade had made them all but obsolete. He had no computer with him that could have accessed it, but even if he had a way to read it, he had decided to wait until the others were with him. He turned it over and over, examining each side of the smooth, inch-long object as his eyelids finally began to close. The last thing he wondered, before fatigue finally overwhelmed him, was how ironic it was to hold something so small—something that appeared so insignificant—yet knowing that encased within its thin plastic walls was a mystery capable of changing the course of the nation.

Adam had woken with a start a few hours later, around two in the afternoon. He stretched, looked around to make sure he was still safe, and picked up his phone. He called through the list of numbers he had copied, trying to contact the senators and the others from Congress in order to set up an emergency meeting. Of the five, he was only able to reach David Malcovich and Max Jennings. Adam had held back any details about his location or of what had happened at Lukas’ home out of fear that the phone could easily be monitored, but he did make sure that they knew it was critical they meet. The two men had agreed and David offered his home in downtown Chicago as the meeting’s location. He had even said he would attempt to reach Gene Smith and Jackson Hewitt, though he doubted either of the men would be able to make it on such short notice.

When the conversation was over, Adam had contemplated calling Elizabeth, but he was almost sure that Lukas knew nothing of her involvement so he decided to keep her in the dark in case unwelcomed ears were in fact listening. Lightning flashed overhead again. Adam pulled out a map he had bought in the suburbs of Chicago and mulled it over in the low light of the truck, trying to figure out how in the world to navigate the dark streets of the unfamiliar and confusing city. Like everyone else, he had grown to be helplessly dependent on a navigation system to get just about anywhere and he hadn’t used a road atlas since he started driving almost twenty years prior. He had taken the same turn twice now trying to find his way and finally decided to pull over and get his bearings. By the time he discovered that he was just one block south of David’s home, the cell phone began to ring.

He looked at the phone number and picked up.

“Dad, how did you get this number?” Adam demanded.

“Thank God. Sarah! I have him on the phone!” Rick shouted on the other end. “Now just where the hell have you been? It’s been three days since you chased off for that big meeting of yours and not a peep since. You’ve had Sarah and now your mother worried half to death over here. Hell, you about gave me a heart attack!”

“Dad, I can’t really talk right—”

Before he could get a word out, Rick jumped back in.

“Don’t give me that. You have time for family. You and all that bull crap just makes me sick sometimes, you know? Where are you now?”

“Look, I can’t tell you anything right now, Dad. I really need to—”

Rick butted in again. “I don’t care what you think you need to do. You have a family and kids and parents, all of whom still
mostly
love you. But keep it up and I might be on the fence about that one. And you have no idea what you’ve put Sarah through. I mean, after last year with Joe . . . come on, Adam! Sarah got so worried after you visited the president that she damn near wouldn’t sleep or eat. And when you didn’t call after days passed, she about sent out a search party.
She
wanted to go look for you, Son! She called through a list of people until finally your friend Tanker gave us this number not five minutes ago. You need to think hard about where your priorities—”

This time, it was Adam’s turn to interrupt. “Enough, Dad! Enough. Please, just shut up! I know where my priorities are so please just get off my back. I have barely slept in days and yes, if you must know I’ve been pretty worried too. Just please, give me a break right now.”

And for once, Rick was speechless. He had always been one to harangue his son, but Adam had rarely, if ever, spoken harshly to his dad.

“Adam,” Rick said coolly. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you have my attention now and I’m here for you. We all are. I’m sorry; I won’t say another word about it. You just get somewhere safe and you get there now. Got it? Where are you now?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Adam said.

“Okay, but I’m here to help. I’ll do whatever I can, you have my word.”

“Then promise me you’ll look after the girls if you hear anything has happened to me,” Adam said.

“Damn it, Adam, just be safe.”

“Speaking of which, it might not be a bad idea for you to get everyone someplace safe, Dad.”

“You’re serious about all this,” Rick said breathlessly. “You just tell me when and where and we’ll be there waiting for you.”

Adam paused for a moment, unsure of where he would be safe from the president. Lukas was very likely listening to their words as he spoke and giving Rick directions over the phone would only jeopardize their safety or his when they finally got there. What he needed was a false scent; something to throw Lukas off should he or his family find themselves in danger. After another moment or so, Adam smiled. He knew just where to send them.

“Get rid of all phones and anything you could be tracked with and head south,” he said with a pause, “to Frontage Lake.”

“You got it.”

Adam could almost feel his dad smile back on the other end of the phone.

“Is Sarah there?” Adam asked.

“She’s right here. We’re all here for you. Good luck, Son.”

After a brief moment, Sarah answered the phone with a shaky voice.

“Adam?”

“Sarah, I’m so sorry.”             

“Adam, just tell me you’re okay. Please, that’s all I want to hear. I just want to know you’re okay.”

Adam’s eyes began to water. Why he had not tried to figure out a way to contact her, he couldn’t decide. Sarah was the only other person besides Elizabeth who knew Joe had been murdered by Lukas and he couldn’t imagine the hell that he had put her through over the past three days.

“I’m okay. I can’t tell you where I am, honey, but I’m okay and I will be with you just as soon as I can.”

Sarah began to cry; Adam figured it was more out of relief than anything. The two simply sat there silent on the phone as Sarah cried, and Adam listened, trying hard not to cry himself. Adam wanted nothing more than to be at home in his wife’s arms.

“Judah is here; do you want to say hi?”

The loud whoop of a siren blared out in the night and bright blue lights began to flash behind Adam’s truck, sending his heart racing at double its speed for a moment. He realized that though the residential street was now completely empty, he had stopped his car in the median like an idiot.
Great
, he thought.
This is the last thing I need.

“Honey, I’m sorry but I have to go. I will call you later tonight. I promise. I love you.”

“I love you too, Adam,” she replied.             

Adam hung up his phone. He turned his truck off and placed his hands on the wheel. He had never dealt with Chicago police before, but he had heard plenty of stories attesting to their short tempers. Rain splashed into the cab of the pickup when he rolled the window down just as the officer arrived at his side.

“Sorry, Officer, I didn’t mean to stop. I was looking for directions. I’ll move to the side.”

“Sir, keep your hands where I can see them,” the policeman said sternly.

“They are,” Adam replied hesitantly. “I said I’d move. Look, I just bought the truck out of town yesterday. I don’t have any registration, but I can give you a signed bill of sale and my license which should be enough.”

“I said keep your hands where I can see them!” The officer took out his phone. “We got him. Oak Street, west of the old theater. I’ll be here. Ten-Four.” He put his phone away. “Sir, I need you to get out of the truck with your hands up.”

Something bothered Adam about the officer, other than his over-the-top reaction, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Now wait a minute, I haven’t done anything wrong and you have no right to—”

“Mr. Reinhart, we have reason to believe this truck was stolen yesterday in West Virginia. Now please, step out of the vehicle slowly with your hands up. Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Adam tried to think of something to say, but as the officer tried to open the door, he pulled it back harshly. “Now wait a minute. I am a United States congressman here on official business. Are you aware it is against the law to detain a congressman for . . .” Adam’s heart skipped a beat and he suddenly wished he had left the truck running. “How do you know my name?” he asked nervously.

The policeman ripped the door open and grabbed Adam by the collar. “Get out of the truck!”

Adam tried to shout back at the man, but the officer pulled him out, slammed his back against the cab of the truck and punched him hard in the stomach, doubling him over. Tendrils of shock blazed throughout Adam’s body as he gasped for air. He looked left and saw a dark car as it turned fast around a corner, blowing through a stoplight and bearing down on them with the engine screaming at full RPMs. Suddenly Adam realized what had been off about the cop. He had used a phone to call the traffic stop in, not his radio. The officer waved furiously toward the oncoming vehicle, shouting as though they could hear him. Bent over from the blow, Adam knew Lukas had found him and that if he didn’t act fast, Sarah would never get that call he promised.

He took a deep breath and brought his right knee up as fast and as hard as he could, striking the man between the legs and sending him crashing down to the asphalt. Adam turned to run, but the downed policeman grabbed his leg, tripping him to the ground. The injured officer looked up with fury on his face and began to draw a gun. Anger replaced Adam’s shock and he kicked the man as hard as he could in the nose with the heel of his boot, dropping him for the second time with a grunt.

Adam stood up to run from the oncoming vehicle, but he saw another car barreling toward him not two hundred feet away. Adam pivoted, slipping on the wet concrete, and scrambled forward with his hands as he looked around for safety. All the nearby businesses were closed up and the streets were empty in every direction, except for him and his attackers. His eyes shot frantically every which way, desperately looking for somewhere to run. He saw an alleyway that led north and hoped it would take him closer to David’s house one street over. With no other options, Adam took off running for his life.