THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO (6 page)

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Authors: ROBBIE CHEUVRONT AND ERIK REED WITH SHAWN ALLEN

BOOK: THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO
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“Anything.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you like your job?” She watched the quizzical look on his face. “I mean, do you come in here every day and say to yourself, ‘Man, I’m so glad I’m a doctor who works here’?”

Naser seemed to think about that for a moment. “You know…I actually don’t. I started out thinking I wanted to be a doctor. But then a year into my residency, I realized I hate everything about the medical field. Especially my boss.”

Behind her back, she placed the plastic tip back onto the needle of the syringe. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Tell me why you’re in my hospital with gunshot wounds. And tell me about the car accident. What happened?”

Everything in her screamed to just distract him and then snap his neck and get out of there. But she didn’t. Instead, she took a deep breath and let it out again. She couldn’t believe what she was about to do. “Come with me and I’ll tell you everything.”

Naser looked at her. And then to the elevator a few feet away. Then back to her. Finally, he reached out and pushed the D
OWN
button. The doors opened up, revealing the empty elevator car. He flashed her that smile again and said, “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 7
Raleigh, North Carolina

P
emberton picked him up in front of the courthouse exactly one hour after they had ended their call. Hayes waved at the giant pickup truck rounding the corner and jumped in as Pemberton slowed down only enough to let him in. Hayes hadn’t even gotten his seat belt fastened before the old man hit the gas again.

“How long you think it’ll take us to get there?” Hayes asked.

“You got somewhere else to be?” Pemberton narrowed his eyes.

Hayes had known Pemberton for over thirty years. His old friend could be many things. Subtle was not one of them. “I just finished my third cup of coffee. I’m going to have to go to the bathroom soon.”

Pemberton mumbled a few curse words under his breath.

Hayes shifted in the seat and looked at his watch.

“ ’Bout two hours,” Pemberton finally said. “Think you can make it that long?” His tone wasn’t one of genuine concern.

“I think so.”

Pemberton made a face and pulled over at the next gas station to let Hayes empty his bladder.

They spent the rest of the drive mostly silent. Not an awkward silence. More the kind of silence that two people who’ve spent so much time together can endure, neither one feeling like they need to manufacture conversation.

Besides, the tension was already thick. The man they were heading to meet was not someone you just casually dropped in on. He was a man of great renown. A hero to many people, as the former secretary of the navy; a partisan, backstabbing politician to others. Either way, what the two of them had planned couldn’t be accomplished without him. If they were going to make this happen, they needed the man.

Pemberton edged the giant truck through the wrought-iron gate of the estate’s drive. Suddenly, he stepped on the brake and came to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Hayes asked.

Again, Pemberton looked at him with those narrow, beady eyes. “There’s no going back from this. You good?”

Hayes took a deep breath and let it out. “Drive.”

Pemberton pulled the gear lever again and stepped on the gas.

When they got to the end of the long drive, their man was outside waiting for them. Pemberton put the gearshift in Park and shut the engine off. Both he and Hayes got out and stood by the truck.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” their host snapped. “I ain’t got all day.”

Pemberton huffed. “Jake, as old as you are, you could be right.”

Former secretary of the navy Jake Irving laughed a huge belly laugh. “Well, then, let’s go, before I keel over and die!” Pemberton followed him around the side of the house and into an old barn with Hayes in tow.

Inside, a small table with three chairs sat in the middle of a dirt floor. Long leaves of tobacco hung from wooden beams all around. One of the new John Deere hybrid tractors sat off to one side. Several bales of hay sat along the other wall. Some antique shears and scythes hung on some rusty nails above the hay bales.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me you still use those.” Pemberton pointed to the antiques.

Irving dismissed the snide remark. “You want to talk about farming? Or did you come here for something important?” He motioned for his guests to sit.

“Did Gavin tell you why we’re here?” Hayes asked.

Irving looked at Pemberton. “Nope. Just said it was important.” He folded his arms across his chest. “But I got a pretty good idea, if it’s coming from you two.”

“You ought to,” Pemberton shot back. “That idiot Walker is ruining what’s left of this country.”

“Calm down, Gavin,” Hayes said. “I’m sure Jake has his own opinions about our
fair
president.”

“That I do,” Irving admitted.

The three men sat there in silence for more than a minute. Finally, Irving spoke. “So what do you want to do about it?”

Hayes looked at Pemberton and gave him a look that said,
I’ll handle this
. Pemberton just nodded and leaned back in his chair.

“Jake, Gavin and I have been…building some relationships.” Irving didn’t say anything, so he continued, “These relationships are of an interesting nature.”

“How so?” Irving asked.

Hayes shifted his position and opened his mouth to talk again.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Milton!” Pemberton sat up in his chair. “Jake, this president is rolling over for the Chinese. He’s got the whole country convinced that this
Prophet
is real, and that the whole reason the Chinese came in the first place is because
God
tried to warn us and we didn’t listen. And he’s not about to try and take our country back. He’s just gonna let sleeping dogs lie. Now I don’t know about you, but me, Milton, and a lot of other people aren’t ready to just lie down.”

Irving unfolded his arms. “So I ask you again. What do you want to do about it?”

“We want to overthrow President Walker.” It was Hayes.

Irving recrossed his arms and began tapping his chin with his index finger. “Let me get this straight. You two want to start a coup d’état in the middle of the most chaotic crisis in our nation’s history.”

Both men nodded.

“And you need me for…what?”

“Jake…” Milton sat forward in his chair. “We have already set this thing in motion. Half the Senate and House—what’s left of them—are on our side. Even if they won’t admit it. The people of this country are divided. Half just want everything to be okay going forward. The other half is furious that we’re sitting by, not doing anything to take our country back.

“Now, we could go through the process of trying to have him impeached. But you and I both know that’ll take too long—I’m talking congressional hearings and the like. As if anyone would even care to go through that right now. Our government can’t handle that. This needs to be done quickly and with force.”

Irving set his jaw. “And you want me to get the Joint Chiefs on your side.”

“We’ve already got Matthews, Smith, and Campbell,” Pemberton jumped in. “The problem is we need Sykes.”

“And you think because I’m the former secretary of the navy, I can get my successor to side with you.”

“Right now, he and he alone is in control of our military,” Pemberton said. “This thing is going to go sideways quick. Walker isn’t much of a president. But if push comes to shove, he
will
instruct Sykes to use any means necessary to squash any kind of uprising from within.”

Irving pursed his lips. “And if Sykes is on your side…”

“Our side,”
Hayes corrected. “You know this is the right thing to do, Jake.”

“You can’t just remove a sitting president, Milton,” Irving said condescendingly. “We don’t do that in this country!”

“This
country
isn’t
this
country, anymore!” Pemberton slammed his fist down on the little table. “It stopped being
this country
the day Walker went on TV and made that speech. Something’s got to be done!”

Irving pushed back from the table and stood up. Pemberton was afraid they were losing him. “Jake, we need—”

Irving put his hand out to stop him. “Just—hold on. I need to think.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking around the room.

Hayes looked nervously to Pemberton. If Irving said no, they weren’t done, but it wouldn’t be easy. Pemberton gave him a reassuring nod. Finally, Irving stopped and leaned forward, placing his hands on the table in front of them.

“You’re going to need someone the people love to replace him.”

Pemberton could see the grin on Hayes’s face out of the corner of his eye. Irving was in!

“We already have him,” Pemberton said.

“Who?” Irving asked.

Pemberton reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out a cigar. He bit the tip off and lit it. He took a long, slow pull and then blew the smoke out in short wisps. “Your son-in-law.”

CHAPTER 8
Washington, DC

M
egan saw Boz and Eli round the corner to Jennings’s office as she was kicking the vending machine in the hall. It was the third time this week it had stolen her money and refused to give up its goods. She gave it one final, hard, front kick and watched the teetering power bar slip out of the metal spiral and fall to the bottom of the machine. She retrieved her prize and hurried down the hall to meet her friends.

“Did you kill it?” Eli asked as she took a seat next to him.

“I’m going to shoot the glass next time and just reach in and take one. That stupid thing owes me like a month’s worth of stuff.” She ripped the top of the wrapper off and took a big bite.

“If you two are done,” Jennings said dryly.

Everyone sat up straight and gave the CIA director their attention.

“This morning I got a call from the Prophet. He has Jon.” Jennings held up his hands to stop Boz and Eli from the same barrage of questions Megan had already hit him with. “Let me finish and then you can ask questions.”

Boz and Eli nodded and Jennings continued, uninterrupted. When he was finished, he leaned back against his desk and shrugged his shoulders.

“That’s it. Now you know what I know.”

“So we’re supposed to do…what?” Boz asked.

“I’ve put a few calls out this morning, trying to see if anyone has heard anything.”

“And?” It was Boz.

“And it seems that there are some people who aren’t exactly happy with how President Walker is handling our situation right now.”

“There’s a lot of people not happy with that,” Boz said.

“Yes, but apparently whoever this is, is willing to do something about it.”

“What does that mean?” Eli asked.

“I don’t know yet,” Jennings said. “I only started digging a couple hours ago. After Quinn called. But I can tell you this. It’s not coming from Washington. I got a guy—Peterson—lives down in Newport News. He’s a former Company guy. Says he heard some things coming out of Raleigh.”

“What kind of things?” Megan jumped in.

“Don’t know yet. Says he’s going to get back to me in a little while. But I can tell you this. Peterson may be retired, but he never left.” Then to Boz and Eli, “Know what I mean?”

Megan looked on, agitated, as Boz and Eli both nodded. “No. I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “Please, fill me in.”

Boz shifted in his seat to face her. “Megan, the FBI and CIA are a lot alike in many aspects of their operations. But there is one difference. When an FBI agent retires, or leaves, he usually just…leaves. Puts it behind him. I mean, I know guys who still hang on to that fed mentality, but most of the time, they let the job go. A CIA guy never stops being a spy.”

This time Jennings and Eli nodded.

“And more often than not,” Boz continued, “it gets him into trouble.”

“Or killed,” Eli added.

“Well, lucky for us,” Jennings said, pushing off his desk, “Peterson hasn’t gotten himself killed. But that could change if he starts asking questions down there and someone doesn’t like it.”

“Well, you said you guys don’t ever stop being spies,” Megan said. “What’s the big deal?”

“Peterson’s seventy-six years old.” Jennings said. A worried look creased his brow. “And he’s a good man. I don’t want to see anything happen to him. He’s served this country well.” He walked back around to his side of the desk and sat down and pointed at Megan. “And that’s why you are leaving in the next five minutes to go see him.”

“So that’s it?” She stood up. “We’re just going to put all of our eggs in Peterson’s basket? You said you made
calls
. Plural. We’re not going to wait to see what else comes back?”

Jennings leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Megan, I made three calls. Two of the guys I called, I woke up. They said they’d poke around, but hadn’t heard anything. When I called Peterson, he was on his way out the door. To Raleigh. Said he was
just about to call me.”
He twirled his finger in the air, noting his disbelief.

“And that means he’d already heard something.” She nodded.

“Like I said. Retired. Not gone.”

“What about them?” She pointed to Boz and Eli.

Jennings turned his attention to Eli. “You staying or going?”

Eli curled his lip. “Well, I was sort of looking forward to going back and getting into it with Bungard, but…” He waved a hand in the air. “I really like Uncle Boz’s chef hat. I just don’t think I’m ready to part with it so soon.”

“Good. Then you’re with her.” Then to Boz, “And you’re going to go get Jon.”

Megan immediately felt her heart sink. She had wanted to be the one to go get Jon. Her feelings for him had grown more each day he had been gone. She laughed to herself. She remembered when they had met how she could hardly stand him. And now she was jealous that Jennings was sending Boz to get him.

She had to admit, though, it was the right move. Boz was a former operative. She was an FBI agent. A computer specialist, at that. She knew she didn’t have the skills to operate in a theater like the one Jon was in. If anyone was going to get him, Boz was the right guy. Raleigh was still American soil. And that meant it was her territory. She narrowed her eyes and looked at her new partner. “I appreciate everything you’ve done, Eli. And I’m glad to have you along. But…”

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