Oscar looks across at me. “You okay?”
I shrug. “I guess. You?”
“Man, I’m shitting bricks over here, I’ll be honest.” He laughs nervously. “But I’m good. Just glad I can help out.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I know you didn’t even want to give me the weapons…”
“It’s fine. But seeing as you didn’t give me a choice about joining the good fight, you can be expecting an invoice for the guns!”
I glance at him and see him smiling. I relax a little. “Oscar, if I’m still around at the end of this, I’ll pay you double.”
“You will be. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Really?”
“Uh-huh. Same look I saw when I dropped you on that rooftop back in Pittsburgh a couple years back. It’s the kinda look that makes me grateful to God I’m not the one who’s pissed you off.”
I smile to myself. “I feel it, y’know? It’s pumping through my veins… that urge to walk in through the front door and shoot at anything that moves.”
“So, why don’t you? Even I know you hate all this bullshit planning and strategizing. Why not just do what you normally would? It always works out.”
“Because I’m smarter than I look. So people tell me, anyway. Not giving a fuck and going in guns blazing has worked before, yeah. Many times, in fact. But it wouldn’t work now. And I can’t afford to fail. Too much is riding on it. I don’t wanna sound like an overdramatic douche and say the fate of the world is hanging in the balance or something, but, y’know… it kinda is.”
He lets out a heavy sigh and glances out his window. We’re crossing the bridge, approaching the toll booth that lets us back onto the mainland.
“Yeah, this is a doozy, I’ll give you that,” he says. “You ever thought about what happens if we actually pull this off?”
I frown. “How do you mean?”
“Well, let’s say you kill the president and North Korea gets its ass kicked. What then? Knowing what I know, I can’t say I like Cunningham, or what he’s doing, but even you must be able to acknowledge the positive things he’s accomplished for this country. There’s very little crime, there’s hardly anybody homeless or unemployed anymore. Everyone’s living the American dream. And what he did for us was starting to rub off on other countries, wasn’t it?”
I nod. “I agree these are prosperous times. Or, at least, they were. Seems to have all gone to shit now, doesn’t it? Makes you wonder… why do it? What could he possibly achieve that he couldn’t have achieved carrying on as he had been?”
Oscar shrugs. “That’s easy. He’s a lunatic who wants to rule the world. He’s like a goddamn cartoon villain, Adrian. I’m not saying he doesn’t want what’s best for everyone, because I think on some level he does. I’m saying his vision of how to get there differs drastically from that of any normal person.”
I agree with what Oscar’s saying, and he makes a valid point. What will happen if we succeed? Half the government is involved, and if the whole conspiracy is made public, it will crush not just this country, but the entire world, setting us all back decades. There will be no faith in the White House, the stock markets will crash, the world will hate us forever… and we’ll end up being no better off than anyone else, we just won’t have the residual radiation poisoning.
That said, it’s no excuse to let him get away with it. The way I see it, everything’s going to shit no matter what happens next, so I might as well do the thing that feels right.
We pass through the booth and take the first exit off the bridge.
Shit!
I slam the brakes on as a car appears from nowhere and jumps in front of me. I sound the horn and bang my palm against the wheel.
“Asshole!”
I look ahead of us. We’ve just joined the end of a very long queue of traffic.
I sigh. “Great…”
I hope things go smoothly for the others.
26
Ruby insisted on driving, which left Jonas in the passenger seat feeling tired and frustrated. They coasted along I-95 for just under two hours, maintaining an anonymous speed and hitting minimal delays. That eventually became I-495, which in turn led them onto New Hampshire Avenue. From there, it had been a straight run into the capital, and they were closing in on their destination.
The State Department stood just a few blocks west of the White House. As they navigated the crowded streets alongside George Washington University, the gravity of the situation they now faced finally hit home. Traffic was close to a standstill. Sidewalks were crammed with people moving with a courteous urgency in every direction. Soldiers in full fatigues and armed with rifles lined the curbs. They were spread strategically thin, but still provided an effective barrier between pedestrians and the street.
“Jesus…” muttered Jonas as he gazed out at the military presence. “Shit just got serious, huh?”
Ruby slowed to a stop at a red light. “I think shit’s been serious for a while — this is just the first time we’ve seen it up close.”
She got the green and set off, guiding the borrowed vehicle onto 23rd Street NW. After a few hundred yards, she pulled up opposite the main entrance to the building. It was a large block structure with beige brick and stern angles. The main doors were glass, and they could see the security checkpoints within.
Jonas glanced over his shoulder at the briefcase resting on the back seat. “Have you any idea how we’re going to get inside there?”
Ruby was silent for a few moments, distracted by her own thoughts on the task ahead of them. She found herself wondering what Adrian would do in this situation. She smiled when she realized even he wouldn’t have a clue. He wasn’t one for talking, and she knew that quick thinking and finesse would be required for this to work.
“It’s going to be like playing a part,” she replied, finally. “We just need to get into character. Let me do the talking. You carry the briefcase.”
“So you actually do have a plan?”
She shrugged. “Working on it. Come on.”
Jonas rolled his eyes. “You’ve spent far too long with him…”
They climbed out of the car in sync, and Jonas leaned back inside to retrieve the case. They waited for a gap in the traffic and crossed the street, walked across the short plaza, and pushed their way through the glass doors into the building’s lobby.
Inside was teeming with activity and security was everywhere. Their shoes clicked and clacked on the polished gray tiling that covered the floor as they approached the first of two visible security checkpoints. It was a semicircular desk with two men behind it wearing matching uniforms. One was sitting down, just about visible over the counter. He was concentrating on something — his unwavering gaze was focused in front of him. Ruby figured he was scanning the security feeds. The other was standing tall, professionally eyeballing everyone who moved.
Ruby nodded a terse greeting to him as she neared the desk. “Good evening. I’m here to meet with Secretary Phillips.”
The guard raised a curious eyebrow, and the mere mention of the name seemed to pique the interest of everyone within earshot.
“Name?” he asked.
“Ruby Andrews.” She gestured at Jonas, who was standing a couple of steps behind her. “This is my colleague, Jonas Dyke. We’re CIA intelligence officers from Langley. We’ve been sent to brief the secretary on the latest reports following North Korea’s attacks.”