Then I pop back into the air, and fly the outside of the compound, taking the wall down as I go. There is the smell of gas in the air, so I tell everyone to get far away, and then light the bonfire. No marshmallows to toast, but I feel strangely warm, despite being him.
Splatting a few more molecules, I rocket into town, where two concrete and glass buildings house companies owned by Senor Juarez. No one is ever in them this late at night, and I turn them into piles of rubble.
Satisfied for now, and done with tonight's destruction, I'm back in the tree, backpack back on, and turning for home, first stopping to re-hide a plastic container full of clothes and assorted junk I brought down on one of my preparatory trips. Perez is sound asleep in Upland until I knock on the Mustang window, she jumps, and unlocks the passenger side.
A long kiss before we say anything, then "How'd it go?"
"I didn't do anything stupid, just followed the plan. Three buildings turned to dust."
She smiles, starts the car, and we head for the airport. There is the little problem of the FBI detail on me, and the possibility that Flaherty will watch her with or without her knowledge (since Kiana would never give her consent – not that they care whether or not I do), but with at least half of Ali's remaining friends locked up, we should be able to call off the dogs soon.
On the way, she tells me that the panel discussion was immediately cancelled, and a party broke out in the exhibit hall, thousands of MFM's dancing the afternoon away. Celeste, apparently, spent a good hour just sitting on the stage, until they made her move.
"I'd have gone and talked to her, but what do I say that would make her any less confused?" Perez doesn't take her eyes off the road, but she somehow makes me think she is looking right at me. "You do need to go talk to her. Time to prove you've grown a pair."
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
That's all we say until we park in the LAPD lot, Perez and I go around to get my bag out of the trunk. I almost forgot the backpack.
"Juarez's laptop is in the backpack, along with some other stuff from his office. Flaherty might enjoy them."
Perez closes the trunk lid, and we tangle together to kiss goodbye. I stand there like a dumbass watching while she drives off, then walk into the terminal to change into my uniform and fly out to Kona.
I'm flying with another of the new captains I have never met before, but who seems OK. He takes the leg to Kona, that way he can see me do all the procedural work this day, and then fly back tomorrow, since the most difficult part of the trip is flying into LA airspace.
Everything normal en route, and he joins me and a couple flight attendants up at Waikaloa for golf, where I shoot a personal best. Why is it that every time I smash something, it helps my golf game? If I follow the plan, I should be ready for the PGA by the end of July.
Darkness falls over Kailua, and I find myself once again sneaking out of the hotel, and going for a late night swim, which becomes a fly, which tonight ends up with me standing on the roof at Bank of America downtown. The feeling of being watched is there, my old friend the drone is circling nearby. I grab my secret cel phone and dial her number. My hands are shaking. She answers.
"I'm on the roof at Bank of America."
"I'm in the stairwell."
Fuck me. No time to rehearse my speech, and she surely expects to ride the salami.
I hang up and walk across to the entrance, open it, and there she is. I put my hand to my lips, fly up, and take out the camera hanging from the ceiling. Only the feeling of being watched is still there. I keep looking, Celeste gets the hint and helps. She finds one, I find two. Pencil cameras, wedged in the door frame, the railing, and a big crack in the wall. I am sure that's all.
Then she's holding me, her lips headed to Perez's country. I back away, just a little bit.
"There's a story you need to know, but you have to promise not to tell anyone."
She's disappointed, but nods her head.
"I had the choice to get strong or not, it wasn't just me waking up strong one day. I didn't know how I knew, but I knew I could choose. I also felt that if I chose, I would give up most of my life. I didn't believe that part at first, but now I do."
She's serious now, no longer thinking salami.
"I am going to die next year. When exactly I don't know, but it will happen. Before it does, I'm going to take out every drug cartel I can, every nuclear program I can, every bad guy I can. I'm afraid the explosion in China shortened my time, so I am going to speed up my attacks. It almost killed me, took me four days to dig out, weeks to heal. I can't afford that to happen again."
"You're an amazing woman, but tonight is the last time we're going to talk, unless I need your help to get a message out. I wish I could have gotten to know you better, but from here on it's destruction, and I can't be worried that someone will come after you."
She shakes her head. "I don't care. And people should know what you're sacrificing."
"No. Please. You can tell them that I am done with figuring out what to do, but you can't tell them the rest."
"Ok. You can still visit me."
"No. I can't. It wouldn't be right, and I am suddenly consumed with doing right."
She seems to be lost for words, or just thinking how to argue something else. I don't give her time. We're still touching, so I stretch out to kiss her forehead, detach myself, and walk toward the door.
"Celeste, forget about me and have the life you deserve."
I walk outside without looking back, still not believing I could say something that stupid. I'm not telling Perez.
I hear the door close behind me, and I take two more steps to be sure I'm clear before I take off. Only I know he's there.
"General," I yell loud enough that Celeste would still hear if she's by the door, "come on out."
And he's there, behind the entrance to the stairwell. Still dressed in the same outfit, still pretending to be something he's not. The one thing he and I have in common.
"Now that you've blown off some steam," he's trying his commanding Jedi mind trick voice again, "it's best if you go back into hiding. Maybe take out a corner drug dealer or two to keep up appearances, and work with us. Nobody wants you around."
I laugh. He keeps talking.
"The Chinese messed up. They set off the explosions above a reinforced tunnel, cut 20 to 30 percent off the force you experienced. Reinforced for us what we already knew, that we can take you out any time we want. And, never forget, if we take you out, your family and friends won't be far behind. Or maybe just a few of them ahead of you, so you know it's us."
I laugh. The light laughs. I think briefly of describing table 3.32.a and his office decor for him, but even I know that's stupid.
"Why is it," I ask him, "that people are always scared of what they don't understand."
He laughs. "We understand. It's what we don't control that matters. And, one way or another, we control you now."
No point in my still being here. I look at him, shake my head, and launch myself into the air. Don't really want to fart around tonight, so I just blast straight up 20 miles or so, strip, ball my clothes up as small as I can make them, and fly down east, ending up near Barstow. Nothing followed me. Then I head south, well south of LA, come back west, out over the ocean and back to Hawai'i.
Chapter 23
I'm at the hotel about 2 a.m. Hawai'i time, which is 4 a.m. Cali time, so no call to Perez, but a text from her telling me to watch a program on CNN. I turn on the TV. It's an hour long documentary on the MFM, repeated over and over overnight, just as Perez said, complete with yesterday's happenings, so I settle in to watch. Thirty minutes in the video from hall H begins with a wide panorama shot of the assembled MFM clones, and there, standing next to the lovely Kiana Perez, is the not so lovely Simon Packer.
I grab for the remote, only remembering after pushing six buttons that it's live TV and it doesn't rewind. Me. Frakking me. The rest of the story plays out. Him talking to Celeste. Him flying away. Pictures of the smash in Columbia. Analysts analyzing what this all means. Video of the dancing fans in exhibit H, with Kiana Perez in full HD clarity sneaking out the back door, her boyfriend in tow.
My tablet is quickly in my hand, and I replay tons of video on the web. Every angle, every camera, everywhere Perez and Packer together as the MFM flies off into the afternoon. Utterly, totally, completely impossible. Just like the rest of my life.
As the sun comes up, I change back into me and go for a nice long run before joining my cohorts for breakfast. One of the flight attendants saw me and Kiana on TV while getting dressed this morning, and I have to make up a tale about "what it was like to actually be there." Any thought that it was just my imagination is gone.
Celeste is on the morning news when I get back to my room to brush my teeth and pack, letting the world know I almost died, but now I am on a mission. She keeps the secret part secret for me, no mention of impending death. Mostly, she talks about what it felt like to see me on that stage.
"He's changed," she tells the interviewer, "not in a bad way, he's more determined to do what he thinks is right." Then she finishes by saying I told her no more interviews.
Make a perfect landing at LAX after a perfect flight in, my perfect girlfriend waiting for me at the gate, having dropped by her real job for a few hours after her FBI shift ended. We walk to her car, me trailing my bag behind me with my left hand, her hand in my right.
We open our doors, sit down, and she starts it.
"You saw us?"
"Yes. A thousand times."
"How? You are even sitting in my car as I drove out of the parking lot."
"Has to be Fog Dude, doesn't it? We'll have to ask next time we visit Fog Land."
She laughs, starts the car, heads out.
"What did you really tell Celeste?" Her tone of voice is completely different than it was. She might actually be a little jealous.
"Told her I'm going to die. Told her I won't see her again."
"And she said?"
"She wasn't happy, but she understood, I think. More important though, the General was there. More threats about taking me out, and my family and friends." I stop for a second. "A lot harder to figure out who those people are today than yesterday, huh?"
Perez laughs. "Air Force, Fog Dude has always been smarter than you claim he is."
And she takes us the rest of the way to her place in silence for an hour of non- salami sex. She is quickly asleep afterwards. I think about changing and going out, but I am way too happy and moving now would require moving her from being partly on top of me, and there is no way in heck I want her anywhere other than where she is. So I relax in the afterglow, and drift off myself.
They have redecorated Fog Land. As in there is no fog, at least for tonight. My old boulder is back in the middle of the path, the evil grass has been recently mowed, and I am alone. I sit on my boulder, wiggle my butt to get comfortable and wait. It takes maybe 10 seconds, and he simply appears on his larger, nicer boulder.
"We don't want anyone to connect you to him after you're gone. We're not sure yet how we're going to do it, but we'll make sure everyone thinks that what happens to you is not what happens to your other self."
"Thanks. Protecting Perez is priority number one."
"Finish what you start, don't let your feelings get in the way of doing what you have to do."
And then he's gone, and I am still in Fog Land. I sit for a second or two, nothing happens. Halloween is at my place, so no help there. Finally, I get up and wander down the path, being careful to avoid the grass. No matter how far I walk, nothing changes. Red path, green evil grass, blue sky. Maybe he's just getting me back for all the times my cat has taken him out.
Then I'm awake and in bed, Perez extricating herself to get ready for work. I have no where to be, but I get up and make breakfast while she showers. While we eat, she lets me know something interesting.
"The three detainees from Russia are due in this morning. I'll let you know what we find out."
She takes herself to FBI headquarters after dropping me back at my place, but leaving me to deal with the mad cat all by myself. It's always better to be the cool aunt who drops by sometimes.
There are no FBI agents out front, budget cuts being what they are, I'm probably not the priority I was. I don't mind. Get on the phone, round up some other first officers, and go play a round of golf. Perez shows up at six with takeout, and we end up smearing it all over each other and eating our fill in two ways at once. Then in the shower together to conserve water before I leave her alone (actually with a cat, so not technically alone) and sneak off to Columbia.
