Mark Young - Off the grid

Joe placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You are going to be our star tonight. Front and center.” He tossed the briefcase onto the hood of the vehicle and opened it. He reached inside and pulled out a. 9mm Beretta. “Here. I want you to have this in case things go sideways at the house.”

“What do you want me to do? Shoot the senator?”

After closing the briefcase, Joe turned to him. “I want you to stay safe. Use it if you have to. I just want you to walk out of there alive. After everyone gets some rest, we’re going to set up on his house so that you are ready to move tomorrow night when Summers arrives home.”

Senator John Summers felt stress tighten his neck muscles as he entered his two-story brick mansion in Bethesda, Maryland. Home at last. After the chaos and noise of his boisterous day on the Hill, he reveled in the silence that greeted him like a long-lost friend. He sent his limo driver and security detail home for the night.

Checking that the readout on the alarm control box read “Armed,” he made his way to the bar in his den, pouring a stiff Scotch on the rocks to settle his nerves. The press had been hounding him about Marilynn’s death as well as the other deaths in Seattle. They wanted to know whether he was concerned about his own safety, and those newshounds scrambled to wring every morsel of juicy news out of his tragedy. Vultures!

He balanced the drink in one hand as he eased into a leather recliner, yanking on the lever to raise the footrest. He kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs out, flexing aching feet. John placed the drink on the end table next to him, leaned back, and closed his eyes.

“Good evening, Senator. We meet again.” A voice cut across the darkened room.

He shot up, dropping his drink and nearly falling out of the chair just as a light flicked on across the room. John struggled to his feet.

Gerrit O’Rourke sat on the sofa, legs crossed, as if he owned the place.

“How’d you…? You’re alive.”

“Still breathing, Senator. No thanks to you and your friends.”

“Me? My friends? What in Sam Hill are you talking about?” It felt like he was staring at a ghost. “They told me you died.”

“As Mark Twain once said, ‘The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated.’”

“I don’t give a rip about Mark Twain. How come they thought you were dead? I mean, Kane told me-”

“Kane lied.” Gerrit rose off the sofa and moved closer to John.

“He told me those Russians killed you…and Marilynn.”

“If they’re Russians, then Kane was the one who hired them. Right now, I don’t know who pulled the trigger. But I do know Kane was behind it. In fact, up until a moment ago, I thought you might have had a hand in it.”

“Me? You think I might have had my own daughter killed? Are you insane?”

Gerrit edged closer. “Then tell me what Kane told you.”

John hesitated as the man drew closer still. John took a step back. “He said the deaths appeared to be connected. That the Russian gangsters retaliated after you killed their boss. Said they’d hit the three of you because of the case you all were working on. I thought…” He fell silent, trying to remember exactly what Kane told him. His face flushed with anger. “That lying son of a-”

“Tell me why Kane seemed to know about the deaths. Think about it, Senator. You do the math.”

John looked at Gerrit for a moment without speaking. “What have I done?” Slowly, John sank back into the chair, head in hands, his voice a tortured whisper. “What have I done?”

Gerrit didn’t want to lose momentum. Maybe the senator had a heart after all. It was time to make his move while the man seemed vulnerable.

Gerrit crossed the room and made a drink for both of them from the wet bar. He felt the handheld radio under his coat and heard someone click a static transmission in his earplug. He hoped Joe and the others were picking all this up.

He glanced over at the senator. The man’s shoulders sagged, chest heaving as he tried to stifle deep sobs. Drinks in hand, Gerrit drew near and handed one glass to Summers. “Here, drink this. It might help.”

As the senator reached for it, Gerrit’s jacket opened to reveal the holstered weapon under his left arm.

“You came into my house armed. What are you going to do? Kill me?”

Gerrit drew back and looked down at the senator. “I didn’t know what I’d face here. For all I know, you and Kane were working together to cover up everything.”

“You must not think very highly of me to believe I’d be complicit in Marilynn’s death.” The senator glared at him. “I may be a lot of things, but I’m a father first.”

“That was not the feeling I got from Marilynn.” Gerrit returned to the sofa and sat down. “She never felt she was good enough for you. Always trying to impress you.”

Summers clasped the drink in both hands, peering down into the glass. “I may have pushed her hard, but I did it for her own good. She had the potential to do great things. Maybe even run for office.”

Gerrit took a drink before replying. “Yeah, that’s quite an achievement, Senator. Look what it got you. Working with bottom feeders like Kane.”

The senator scowled. “I have this country’s best interests at heart. Always have.”

“You mean like selling this country out to those who want our sovereignty to take a backseat to a one-world order?” He remembered what Joe had said, and thought it might be a good time to test out his uncle’s theory. See if Joe might be right.

The senator seemed to bite. Summers straightened. “We need to work together as a world community to face the challenges ahead. We cannot be the only gunslinger in town. We need other world powers to deal with terrorism, dictators, and those crazy enough to drag us back to extinction. I’m talking about fanatics like North Korea’s Kim Jong-il or Iran’s Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.”

“So tell me, Senator. How do you and people like Kane propose to create this world community? By lessening our country’s ability to protect itself? By allowing others in the world to decide what’s in our country’s best interests? And at what cost? Just look at what it has cost you already.”

The senator stared at him without speaking. Gerrit couldn’t tell what the man was thinking. “Tell me what Kane has planned for our future. It looks to me like you have already bought into it. Tell me why he had to kill my father and mother. Why they were so dangerous he had to eliminate them.” He realized he was almost shouting.

Summers seemed to shrink in his chair. “I don’t know anything about what happened to your parents. Kane said…” And then he stopped speaking. Any anger the man had shown earlier seemed to vanish into the night air. He stared at the floor without speaking.

Any further conversation with Summers would be futile. As Gerrit got to his feet, the senator whispered something. “What did you say, Senator?”

“Megiddo.” The man’s voice grew stronger. “That’s all Kane ever mentioned to me. It was a code name for a project he and others were involved with that would give them the upper hand. Allow them to begin to control the bases of power they needed to create this world power. This world community.”

“How were they supposed to achieve this?” Gerrit held his breath, waiting for the man to answer. Naming this Project Megiddo in the context of world domination gave him a chill. Were they dealing with a bunch of suicidal maniacs? He could see Kane in that role.

Summers gave him a dazed look. “It was all supposed to make the world a better place. A safer place.” The senator gave a bitter laugh. “Save lives. What a joke. Look what it has done so far. Kane takes the life of my only daughter. What does he have planned next? My execution because I didn’t handle her right? Oh, jeez, if he finds out I talked to you-I’m history.”