Apocalyptic Visions Super Boxset (44 page)

***

Daniel rolled to his side and opened his bloodshot eyes. He felt exhausted. The furniture, walls, and floor looked like they were covered in a fuzzy haze. He blinked and rubbed his eyes until his surroundings came into focus. He was still in his suit, lying on top of the bed. Even his shoes were still on.

The clock on the nightstand read eight o’clock. A few thumps sounded downstairs, and he pushed himself up from the bed, his arms shaking as he did. He cradled his head in his hands, trying to support the ten thousand pounds of crushing pressure that seemed to be working against him.

A quick shower. That’s what he needed. He stumbled to the bathroom, clumsily disrobing himself, until his hands found the shower handle and turned it to the left on its warmer setting. Daniel stepped inside, letting the warm water cleanse him of the dirt and filth from the previous day. He stood there, watching the gauge tick off gallon after gallon. He could stay in the shower all day if he desired. There were no restrictions for him. Not for a United States congressman.

After thirty minutes, he shut the water off and stepped out, dripping onto the tiled floor. He dried himself, then put on a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt. He passed his son’s room and could see both Kevin and John on the floor, playing video games.

“Hey, Uncle Dan,” John said. “Feeling better?”

“Huh?” Daniel asked.

“Last night mom said you weren’t feeling well,” Kevin answered.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m better. Why aren’t you at school?”

“Mom said we didn’t have to go since Brooke and everyone was here.”

“I see you’re making good use of your time,” Daniel said, pointing at the game.

“It’s actually harder than it looks, Uncle Dan,” John said.

“Right.”

When Daniel made it to the bottom of the stairs, he saw Eric propped up on some pillows watching television. Gabby and Emily were on the floor, playing with some dolls. He stood there a while before Eric noticed him.

“Congressman Hunter,” Eric said, trying to get up from the couch while nursing his left shoulder, which was wrapped in a bandage.

“No, please, you don’t have to get up.”

Eric flopped back down onto the couch with exaggerated relief. “Well, it’s good to know that not every congressman is full of himself. Right, girls?”

Emily and Gabby giggled.

“Call me Daniel.”

“Well, Daniel, I’m Eric Stephenson,” he said, extending his right hand. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

“I, uh… I’m glad.”

Daniel didn’t want to try and cut the man off, but he wasn’t going to fight the compliment. He’d learned long ago that compliments held just as much meaning for the person giving them as the person on the receiving end. Sometimes more.

“Have you seen Brooke and my wife?” Daniel asked.

“They headed to the pharmacy to pick up some medicine for my arm. They left first thing this morning, so they should be back soon.”

“Thanks.”

Daniel walked to the garage to grab something out of his car, but when he opened the door and flicked the light on, a banged-up Toyota Land Cruiser was in its place. He recognized it as Brooke’s car then shut the door and headed to the kitchen. He poured himself a bowl of cereal. Before he could shovel the first spoonful into his mouth, he heard the front door open, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Kids! Donuts!”

The thunder of John and Kevin’s feet from upstairs roared as they hurried down the staircase. They came running into the kitchen, attacked the box of fried dough, and shoved the donuts into their faces like they hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Brooke came around the corner after them, observing the carnage. “I wish my metabolism still worked like that. Hey, Dan. You look better.”

“Thanks. I feel better.”

When Amy walked into the kitchen, she didn’t acknowledge his presence. She opened the top cupboard and grabbed a glass then filled it with water. She walked back out into the living room with the glass and a bottle of pills.

“You need to take these twice a day until they run out,” Amy said, handing the water and pills to Eric.

“Your cereal’s getting soggy, Uncle Dan,” John said.

“What? Oh.”

Daniel looked down at the bloated bits of shredded wheat floating in his bowl. When he looked back up, Amy was gone. He set the spoon down and headed back upstairs.

Amy was taking off her earrings at the dresser. She eyed his reflection in the mirror when he entered.

“Amy, about last night. We need to talk.”

“We do, but not now.”

“Honey, this is important.”

Amy slammed her hands on the dresser, and Daniel froze. He could see the strain on her face as she tried to control the anger welling up inside her. She spun around to face him, and he could see the tears in her eyes.

“Do you remember what you said last night?” her voice was shaking.

Daniel kept his head down. “I’m sorry.”

“She is my sister. They are family. And we take care of our family. So whatever you need to do to make sure that happens… do it.”

“I will.”

Amy wiped the tears from her eyes and walked over to him. Her smooth fingers slid through the spaces of his own, and they held on to each other.

“There’s something I do need to talk to you and Brooke about, though. Together,” Daniel said. “And it has to be today.”

***

Daniel told Brooke and Amy everything. He spared no detail in his confession. There were times he wanted too, but despite the look on his wife’s face, he kept pushing through.

“I used the excuse that I did it for my family, but I know that doesn’t justify what I did,” Daniel finished.

“And you haven’t heard anything from this Congressman Smith?” Brooke asked.

“No, not since he was locked up,” Daniel answered.

He kept waiting for Amy to say something, but she remained silent. The only thing worse than condemning him was her silence. His gut twisted and turned. His body felt like it would disappear right then and there, and at that moment he wished he could. Finally, Amy got up from the bed and walked over to him. She cupped her hands around his face and kissed him, softly.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

“Daniel, do you think you can get in contact with this Smith character again?” Brooke asked.

“I don’t know. We didn’t leave on the best of terms,” Daniel answered.

“Try. He might be our ticket home.”

***

Smith dropped the pen in his hands and rubbed his eyes. Beth flipped through the next few pages, crossing words out and adding others as she went.

“I think I need a break,” Smith said.

“Okay,” Beth replied, still lost in the work.

“Getting hungry?”

Beth didn’t respond. She kept going through the documents, her pen busy with notations. She was in her own world.

“Beth,” Smith said, a little louder.

“Yeah?”

“Are. You. Hungry?” Smith asked, adding in some dramatic hand movements to act out the definition of his words.

“Dr. Carlson is rubbing off on you,” Beth said.

“And why do you say that?”

“Because you’re starting to annoy me.”

Smith’s phone rang. He paused when he saw the number, but he answered it.

“Hello?” Smith asked.

“Hello,” Daniel answered.

“And to what do I owe this pleasure? Giving me a warning this time before the authorities come to arrest me?”

“David, I’m sor—”

“What do you want, Daniel? If it’s about Jones, I can’t help you with that anymore. You’re too far down the rabbit hole.”

“No, it’s not about Jones. I wanted to see if there was anything I can do. To help.”

Smith covered the phone with his hand and grabbed Beth’s attention. “It’s Daniel,” he said quietly. Beth simply shook her head.

“No, I’m afraid there isn’t, Daniel. But I appreciate the call.”

“Well, then maybe there’s something I can give you.”

“Such as?”

“I recently took a flight to Mexico with Congressman Jones to discuss a cease-fire with the Mexican government. The paperwork has probably already been drawn up, and I would think Jones will use it in the debate against you.”

Smith knew that Jones couldn’t have orchestrated that without the help of the president, and if he was going to the president for help, then he was desperate.

“Was there anyone else with you on the trip?” Smith asked.

“Just security.”

“Thank you, Daniel.”

“David,” Daniel paused on the other end of the line. Smith knew what he was going through. There was nothing harder than asking for forgiveness after a betrayal of trust.

“It’s fine,” Smith said. “Really. I think we’ve both done enough distasteful deeds for one term. Actually, there is something I could use you for.”

“Of course.”

“I have Dr. Carlson in the process of setting up a new lab. I could use a pair of eyes at the location if you’re interested?”

“Absolutely.”

“Good. I hope your passport is still valid.”

Before Daniel could ask any more questions, Smith hung up the phone. Beth had stopped her work and stared at him.

“What?” Smith asked.

“You really think it’s a good idea to involve him again?” Beth countered.

“He’s not going to make the same mistake twice, Beth.”

“You don’t know if he’s still working for Jones.”

“Even if he was, it wouldn’t do any good. Jones doesn’t have any connection or pull with the Canadian government. And the Canadian ambassador isn’t going to forgo the opportunity for a free pass on their water debt.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Where are we with the meeting with Senator Harris?”

“He hasn’t gotten back in touch with me yet.”

“Keep trying. This isn’t going to work without him.”

The police officers from the precinct that had called in Brooke’s car were about as useful as tits on a bull. Terry slammed the door to his van shut, and the vehicle rocked back and forth from his violent entrance. He reached around for his laptop and set it on the dashboard. He lit a cigarette waiting for it to boot up, and when it did, he entered Brooke’s information.

He knew exactly where she was going: her sister’s house in North Carolina. That’s the trajectory she’d been on since she left Dallas, and by now she was already there. He entered her sister’s married name into Google, and Daniel’s name popped up. Terry clicked on the link to his congressional page and scrolled down.

The cloud of smoke filled the van’s cabin, giving everything around Terry a gray haze. He gently squeezed his hand. His knuckles were still bruised from the beating he had given Brooke’s friend Dave.

“Stupid bitch,” Terry mumbled.

The open cuts along his hands stung, but another puff of the cigarette, and he could feel the pain recede. He rested his head back and closed his eyes.

“So your sister’s husband is a Congressman. That’s what you’re hoping for. A little political favor.”

Terry spent the next twenty minutes reading the congressman’s political views, his background, campaign funds, committees served on, and education background. From what Terry could gather based off of his own findings, the man was clean—or just good at covering up his tracks.

If this woman was planning on using family, then there wasn’t a high probability that the family would turn her in. Family was loyal, protective… stupid. All he had to do was find a pressure point, and someone would cave. His money was on the husband. Terry just needed to find something on him.

The phone Terry carried was an old brick. Nothing like the smart phones used today, but he only needed it for one thing: to make calls. He scrolled down and dialed the number of a man he knew in DC. If anyone would have any dirt on a congressman, it would be this guy.

Terry’s relationship with his contact wasn’t a cheerful one. It wasn’t even professional. He’d only done a handful of transactions with him. The price was always steep, but the last job Terry did gained him some favor.

The phone continued to ring until the voicemail picked up. Terry snapped his phone shut and tossed it on the dash. That’s the way it normally went. His contact never picked up on the first call. He’d always have to wait until the call back before anything happened.

The dash vibrated as the phone buzzed. Terry reached for the phone and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray.

“I need some information,” Terry said, ignoring the pleasantries.

“Now’s not a good time.”

“It’s never a good time when one of us calls the other. That’s part of the relationship.”

“What is it?”

“I need some dirt on a congressman.”

“Which one?”

“Daniel Hunter.”

The other end of the line went silent. Terry waited, wondering if the call had been disconnected.

“Hello?” Terry asked.

“What business do you have with him?”

“He’s not the mark, but he’s harboring an illegal.”

“Who?”

“Santa Claus. What does it matter who it is? Just send me the info. Consider it back pay for the last job.”

Terry ended the call and looked back at the picture of Congressman Hunter on his laptop. He brought his massive index finger up and tapped the screen.

“You’re about to have a very bad day.”