Kim Baldwin - The Gemini Deception

“I can make that happen in approximately…” Monty checked his watch. “Eight hours.”

TQ grabbed the cell from his hand and disconnected.

“Time is wasting,” Monty said. “You have eight hours, Cinderella.”

“Bring them both here,” TQ said to her men.

“No.” Monty was afraid Jack was too weak to cooperate on the trip up, and moving her around would only enhance the blood loss. If she was barely conscious, she’d never survive being manhandled by these butchers. “I’m going to get them myself and you’re coming with me.”

“You don’t need me.”

“I want you where I can see you until I get what I came for. Tick tock.”

TQ pushed the goon behind her aside and stomped back to the building.

“Oh, and by the way,” Monty said when they got in the elevator, “should Jack not survive, I will destroy you anyway.”

“All this fuss for a nobody assassin,” TQ said benignly as she looked at her reflection in the shiny metal door.

“Also, should you ever come near her or anyone she cares about, I will personally rip that ugly head you keep admiring off that skinny body.”

“You called Thomas?” Shield asked.

“No, I called Wagner,” he replied. “Of course, I called the driver first, who played the role of secretary.”

“When did you have time to prepare them?” Shield asked him.

“I didn’t. They both knew what to do,” Monty said. “It was pretty evident when I called asking for the president.”

“She’s good,” Shield said, referring to Wagner.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d be hard-pressed to buy that she wasn’t the real president.”

“What’s going to happen to her?” Shield asked.

“That’s not up to us, but I’m sure it won’t be good.”

“They framed her to cooperate, and she did help us find out who TQ is. That’s got to mean something.”

“I hope for her sake it does.”

“What do you mean?” Shield looked puzzled.

“You’ll see,” Monty replied.

*

Jack woke in such a fog she had trouble focusing. She didn’t know where she was or how she’d gotten there, but what she could hazily make out in her limited field of vision—white blankets and an IV stand—indicated a hospital room. “Am I dreaming, or what?” she mumbled.

“Baby?” The familiar, soothing voice came from close by. “Baby, can you hear me?”

“Cass?” Jack tried harder to clear her fuzzy vision but couldn’t.

“Yes, it’s me, honey.”

Jack felt warm lips touch her own.

“You’re going to be fine.”

“What happened?”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, some ribs are broken, and you have a concussion.”

“I was in a building, in this basement.” Jack tried to remember. “They kept punching and kicking.”

“Shh. I know.”

Jack felt wet drops on her hand. “Are you crying?”

“You’re safe now,” Cass said, her voice breaking.

“Don’t cry.” Jack never could stand to see Cass cry; it hurt her to the core.

“I’m happy, baby. That’s all.”

“I’m so sorry I got you involved. TQ wanted to hurt you for what I did to her brother.”

“I know.”

“She said she’d let you live if I surrendered. I didn’t have a choice. She’d keep coming for you if I didn’t.” Jack tried to move, but her head felt like it would explode from the pain. She groaned.

“Try not to get excited,” Cass said. “You don’t have to explain.”

“You’re easy to track down because of—”

“The orchestra. I know.”

“How did you locate me?”

“Monty did. He…he found out TQ had taken you and did everything to find you.”

“Monty?” Jack repeated, confused. “Why does he care?”

“Because…he just does.” Cass caressed her hand. “He saved your life.”

“Why?”

“Maybe you should ask him when you’re all better. He’s outside right now and would really like to see you.”

“No. Not like this. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

“You look better than when he found and carried you.”

“Say what?”

“He wouldn’t let anyone else touch you. The paramedics had to pry you away.”

Jack was either too dizzy to understand Cass right, or she was in a coma dream. “Cass?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I want to go home. I don’t like hospitals.”

“Soon enough. Get some rest and I’ll see what I can do.” Cass let go of her hand.

“Don’t go.” Jack tried to sit up, but the effort sent a white-hot burst of pain through her head and midsection. “Fuck. Damn it, that hurt.”

“Jack, please stop moving.”

“Stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. Ever. Now, get some rest.”

*

The Oval Office

Elizabeth Thomas sat at her desk, watching as her secretary admitted John Kaplan, director of the Central Intelligence Agency, and Calvin Sneed, the secretary of Homeland Security, into the Oval Office. Her advisor, Kenneth Moore, stood beside her, actually unusually fidgety—no doubt because she’d uncharacteristically sidestepped his questions about the reason behind the impromptu meeting.

The CIA had called an hour before, to tell her that Theodora Rothschild had been arrested—the woman behind her abduction and the one responsible for creating a double to take her place. Elizabeth had refused to answer any questions or admit to anything over the phone; she wanted to address the issue in person immediately.

Kaplan waited until her secretary had departed before speaking. “Thank you for meeting us on such short notice,” the CIA director said. “But you understand this is a sensitive matter.”

“Indeed,” she replied. “Thus the lack of media and the fact that I wanted only you three men present for this discussion.”

“Let me get to the point, Madam President.” He cleared his throat. “The chief of the EOO, Montgomery Pierce, has proof of your kidnapping and replacement in the White House from February twenty-fourth until last night. We are not sure what Mrs. Rothschild aimed to accomplish, but it is an act of terrorism against you and the country. We need to know why you haven’t come forward with this information.”

“What are they talking about?” Moore looked like he’d just heard pigs could fly. “Elizabe…Madam President, is this true?”

“Let me ask you this.” She addressed Moore. “Did you notice any difference, any change in me—my looks or otherwise—during this period?”

“Of course not,” he replied. “This is insane. What are they talking about?”

Elizabeth had wanted Moore there to prove a point to these men. Even her closest aide had apparently failed to pick up on the fact that anything was amiss—either while she was gone or since her return to the White House. He’d arrived for work early that morning, his usual cheery self, seemingly oblivious to anything different about her. His only comment had been about her looking rather tired; he’d also mentioned that her sister had called, anxious to spend some time with her because they hadn’t seen each other since the Find Your Sport festivities. Clearly, the double had even fooled her sibling.

She stood and paced behind her desk. “It’s true,” she finally said to Moore. “I was kidnapped and replaced by a double.”

Moore gasped. “No. How can that—”

“A very convincing one,” Elizabeth added.

“No doubt about that,” the CIA director said. “We have her in custody and are tempted to salute her every time we see her.”

“But…but…” Moore looked aghast. “This is crazy. I would have known. I would have at least—”