The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6) (19 page)

He nodded.

Annaliese left the room.

He heard the side door close, indicating she had also left the house. “Argh!” he grunted. He stood up and lifted his cane high but stopped from slamming it down. A strong urge to hurt someone came over him. He needed to vent, so he left the house through the front door. The freezing air swallowed him. He hadn’t grabbed his coat but didn’t care. He stepped off the porch and headed towards an open field. He walked and walked until he was surrounded by darkness. With anger fueling him, he again lifted his cane and slammed it down. Over and over he slammed his cane down until it splintered, cracked and finally split in two. He tossed it and fell to his knees, clenched his fists and yelled. A voice came from the darkness, but he knew no one was there. “Leave me alone! Shut up! You’re wrong, she still cares!”

With his head hung low and his knees buried in icy snow, he wondered if maybe the spirit of his father was right. Had Annaliese abandoned him? His body began to shiver. Tired and upset, he gave up and walked back to the house. He stepped onto the porch and stopped when Samuel spoke from the shadows.

“What were you doing out there?” Samuel asked.

“Went for a walk to clear my head.”

“I know who you are,” Samuel said and walked up to Pablo. He looked him in the eyes and continued, “You might have my niece fooled but I’m not. You had something to do with those men, I know it. If it were up to me, I’d toss you out of here. You’re a murderer, a butcher. You don’t belong here.”

Pablo returned his stare.

Samuel wouldn’t break his stare.

“You done?” Pablo asked.

“Yeah, for now.”

“
Buenos noches, mi amigo
,” Pablo said and walked into the house.

Cheyenne, Wyoming, United States

Baxter stepped into the interrogation room to find a young attractive woman handcuffed to the table. He looked at the stark gray concrete walls and tile floors and found it depressing.

The woman looked up and said, “Hello, Mr. Secretary, my name is Megyn Sherman. You and I have something to discuss.”

Baxter took a seat across from her and asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m a deep-cover operative working for the Canadian government in Ottawa. I have spent the last six months working for the prime minister of Western Canada.”

“Cut to the chase. Where is President Cruz?” Baxter asked.

“Jacques has him; he captured President Cruz, his mother, President Van Zandt of Cascadia and his wife. He has threatened them with death or worse if they don’t sign treaties ceding territory from both countries.”

Baxter let out a burst of laughter. “This is a cruel joke, right?”

“No, it’s not. I couldn’t get word out to Ottawa or Cheyenne because I had to go dark a few months ago after one of my coded messages was intercepted. I nearly compromised myself. When Cruz and Van Zandt were taken, I knew I had to get word out, and the only way to do that was to leave. With the help of a sympathizer we stole a helicopter and flew here. Mr. Secretary, you have to mobilize and rescue them.”

“How do I know you are who you say you are?” Baxter asked.

“Things would have been easier if you had an attaché or diplomatic mission from Canada here.”

“My men are in contact with your defense minister now, I hear; we will verify your identity soon. Tell me again from the beginning what has happened. Why and what is Jacques’ end game?”

Megyn explained everything she knew in great detail, including Jacques’ plan to secure large swaths of the Northwest United States. She also described the man and his motivations in hopes it would give him a big picture of who they were dealing with.

As the words of the vast conspiracy hit his ears, Baxter found it all too grand and convenient in some ways. But maybe she was telling the truth, and his paranoia stemmed from the recent incidents.

Feeling she had put her best effort forward, she again stressed for him to act. “You must have a fast reaction team; get them in the air. I can give you the location of the president to within ten meters, but you have to act fast. The longer I’m gone, the more difficult it will be for you because Jacques will sense something is wrong.”

“Why don’t I negotiate with the prime minister?”

“You can’t make deals with him. I’ve watched him and worked closely alongside him for months. He will break any agreement if he believes it benefits him to do so. He can’t be trusted. He looks at negotiation as weakness.”

“But any military action is inherently riskier; if the prime minister is unstable he could see our attack and use it to justify killing the president.”

“Jacques never needs justification. If it serves his end game, he’ll
kill anyone
.”

The door opened. An army officer walked in, came to Baxter’s side and whispered in his ear.

Baxter nodded.

The officer left the room.

“It appears your identity checks out. Ottawa wants you to contact them immediately and debrief.”

“Ottawa can wait. Mr. Secretary, if you don’t get your president, you may not have another chance to.”

“I’ll consult the cabinet and we’ll make a decision. Thank you, Megyn, for risking your life to get us this intelligence.”

“Mr. Secretary, order your teams to stand up, at least get them on alert to go, please.”

“We will consider everything. Can I trust you’ll provide everything you know to my men?”

“If you negotiate with Jacques, it will be your undoing. He’s already working on the ground in Cheyenne to undermine you. He’s had people here for months in the hopes he can destabilize Cheyenne.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Christmas bombing, that was Jacques’ handiwork.”

“No, no, it wasn’t. That was the job of the resistance, our intel tells us that.”

“Then your intel is bad.”

“Can you prove or do you have evidence that Western Canada is behind that bombing?”

“I can do better; I can give you a name.”

Baxter leaned forward in anticipation of hearing not just a name but
the
name.

“Eli Bennett, he’s the lead element Jacques has on the ground here.”

And right there, Baxter knew why Eli couldn’t divulge his leadership.

Baxter stood up and headed for the door.

“It was the name, wasn’t it?” Megyn asked.

He flung the door open.

“Mr. Secretary, is everything okay?” an officer asked. The urgent and tense look on Baxter’s face told him something was wrong.

“Send several tac teams to Secretary Wilbur’s old house immediately,” Baxter ordered.

“For what, sir?”

“Eli Bennett, go pick up Eli Bennett.”

“Yes, sir.”

Baxter’s hand was shaking. He had to close the holes and rid himself of anyone that could connect him to the resistance, Eli Bennett and….

Baxter picked up a landline phone mounted on the wall.

An operator answered,
“Extension, please.”

“Zero zero one three,” he replied.

“Dialing,”
the operator said.

Two clicks and three rings later, Laura answered,
“President’s office.”

“Laura, this is Secretary Baxter. I need to have an emergency cabinet meeting in half an hour.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll do my best,”
Laura said.

“Not your best, Laura, tell them it’s an emergency. Tell them I found the president.”

West of Joseph, Oregon, Republic of Cascadia

The light from the large candles cast bouncing shadows of Nicholas and Lexi on the bedroom walls.

He lay still as she finished applying the fresh bandage on his wound. He enjoyed the attention but most importantly her touch. Having someone’s hands touch his bare skin felt good. Yes, it was odd that he received a slight pleasure from her care, but he hadn’t experienced the contact of another person in a very long time. His eyes followed her movements. She was beautiful and he was attracted to her, but was his attraction borne from lack? Had it been so long for him that he thought any woman that gave him two seconds attention was the one? He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. Why not enjoy it? If this new world taught him anything, it was don’t take things for granted.

Lexi gathered the first aid kit and stood up. “I put some pain meds on the nightstand. I recommend taking them. Also, the wound doesn’t look like it’s getting infected, that’s good, but if it does, I have some antibiotics.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Strands of hair had pulled away from her tie and hung across her face. “You’re welcome.”

“I really can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” she joked.

“But a handsome one, I’ve got that going for me,” he quipped.

Lexi rolled her eyes. “Um, I made some soup. I’ll bring it back here.”

“I’m not hungry, but can you do me a favor?”

“A favor? You’re the most high-maintenance man I’ve ever met,” she replied.

“Just sit next to me. I’m exhausted, and I want to fall asleep knowing you’re here,” he said, his voice soft.

Lexi raised her brow unsure how to receive that comment.

“Please, sit,” he said and patted the spot on the side where she had been sitting.

“You need your rest; best you go to sleep now. I don’t want to keep you up any longer,” Lexi said.

“Please.”

She gave him a long look. His eyes were half closed and he was well on his way to falling asleep, so she relented to his request. She set the first aid kit back onto the nightstand and sat down.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asked.

“My favorite color?” she replied.

“Just play along,” he said looking at her. His arms were folded on his bare chest.

She looked up and thought.

“You have to think about what your favorite color is?”

“I haven’t been asked this question since I was a child.”

“Mine is black,” he said.

“I like black too.”

“Favorite food?” he asked.

“Right now that would be just food.”

“C’mon, play along; you know what I’m asking.”

“Pizza, pepperoni pizza on a thin crust.”

“I love pizza too. There was a place in Flower Hill”

She interrupted him and said, “Pizza Rev.”

“That’s the place. I loved their pizzas; I even liked the gluten-free crust,” he said with a wide grin. “They had the best gluten-free crust.”

“Never tried it.”

“It was good, better than the regular crust. I tried it by accident and was blown away. Normally gluten-free tastes like cardboard.”

His smile was contagious. She now boasted a big grin.

“Favorite drink?” he asked.

“When I drank alcohol, it was vodka. I would crave dirty martinis. The dirtier the better and with blue-cheese-stuffed olives.”

“Sounds great. Any specific brand of vodka?”

“Chopin, Grey Goose, Belvedere, top-shelf stuff for martinis.”

“I’m a whiskey guy and not normally the rotgut kind like that Beam.”

“I like whiskey too, but I’m a vodka girl.”

“But not anymore?”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s so boring,” he teased.

“I guess it is,” she said, looking down.

Noticing his reference to the present had spoiled the fun, he tried to bring it back. “You a game person?”

She didn’t answer.

“There was this place in Mission Valley, I’m sure you heard of it. Dave & Buster’s…”

She looked away and said, “You need to get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He grabbed her hand.

She stopped and thought about pulling away but didn’t.

“Stay,” he said.

“You need your rest and I’m hungry,” she said and pulled away from him. She quickly grabbed the first aid kit from the nightstand and exited the room.

Nicholas sighed loudly when the door clicked closed.

Lexi stood just outside the door and placed an open hand against her chest to feel her rapidly beating heart. She hadn’t felt this way for a long time and she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to now.

DECEMBER 29, 2015

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” – Leo Tolstoy

Cheyenne, Wyoming, United States

Baxter rubbed his bloodshot eyes and yawned heavily. His legs felt heavy and his shoulders slumped over.

Megyn gave the cabinet the same details she gave to Baxter; however, she left out the information concerning Eli Bennett. She did so at his request after he explained the resistance still might be an accomplice to the bombing and they had suspicions there might be people close to his cabinet that might belong to them.

“So it is my recommendation that you conduct an immediate rescue mission to save President Cruz and the others,” Megyn said.