The murdered boy was Sumner Moore.
NO RULES.
Alex Cross 3 - Jack and Jill
PART 5
NO REGRETS, NOTHING EVER BEGINS at the time we believe it does. Still, this is what I think of as the beginning.
Jannie and I sat in the kitchen and we talked the talk, our own special talk. The words didn't matter much, just the sentiments.
“You know, this is an anniversary for us,” I said to her. “Specialanniversary.”
I touched her cheek. So soft. Soft as a butterflys belly.
“Oh, really ?” Jannie said and gave me her most skeptical Nana Mama look. “And what anniversary might that be?”
“Well, I'll tell you. This just happens to be the five-hundredth time that I've read you The Stinky Cheese Man.”
“Okay, fine,” she said and smiled in spite of herself, “so read the story already! I love the way you read it.” I read the story again.
After we were done with our Stinky Cheese, I spent some time with Damon, and then with Nana. Then I went upstairs to pack.
When I came back down, I talked out on the porch with Rakeem Powell. Rakeem was waiting to be relieved. Sampson was coming over for the night. Man Mountain was late as usual, and we hadn't heard from him yet, which was a little unusual, but I knew he would be there.
“You okay?” I asked Rakeem.
“I'm fine, Alex. Sampson will get here eventually. You take care of yourself.”
I went out to my car. I stepped inside and put in a tape that felt right for the moment at hand -- for my mood, anyway. It was the finale to Saint-Sans's second piano concerto. I had always dreamed of being able to play the piece on the porch piano.
Dream on, dream on.
I listened to the blazing music as I drove out to Andrews airfield, where Air Force One was being prepared.
President Byrnes was going to New York City, and I was going with him.
No regrets.
THERE HAVE BEEN many conflicting accounts, but this is what happened and how it happened. I know, because I was there.
On Monday evening, nine days before Christmas, we landed in a grayish blue fog and light rain at La Guardia Airport on Long Island. No specific information about President Byrnes's travel plans had been announced to the press, but the President was keeping his commitment to speak in New York the following morning. Thomas Byrnes was known for keeping his commitments, keeping his word.
It had been decided to go from La Guardia into Manhattan by car, rather than by helicopter. The President wasn't hiding anymore.
Had Jack and Jill counted on just that kind of courage, or arrogance, from him? I wondered. Would Jack and Jill follow the President to New York? I was almost sure that they would. It fit everything we knew about them so far.
“Ride with us, Alex,” Don Hamerman said as we hurried across the tarmac, a cold December rain blowing hard in our faces.
Hamerman, Jay Grayer, and I had gotten off Air Force One together.
During the plane ride we sat together, planning how to protect President Byrnes from an assassination attempt in New of the ride.
“We're traveling in the car directly behind the President. We can continue our little chat on the way into Manhattan,” Hamerman said to me.
We climbed into a somber, blue Lincoln Town Car that was parked less than fifty yards from the jet. It was close to ten in the evening, and that part of the airfield had been secured.
There were Secret Service men, FBI agents, and New York City policemen milling around everywhere.
Surrounding the five limousines of the presidential motorcade were at least three dozen NYPD blue-and-white squad cars, not to mention a few Harley motorcycles. The Secret Service agents stared into the foggy night as if Jack and Jill might suddenly appear on the runway at La Guardia.
I had learned that the NYPD would have a minimum of five thousand uniformed officers on the special-service detail for the length of the President's visit. More than a hundred detectives would also be assigned. The Secret Service had tried to convince the President to stay at the Coast Guard base on Governors Island, or at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn. The President had insisted on making a statement by staying in Manhattan. No regrets.
His words in the Oval Office played over and over in my head.
I settled back into the cushy and comfortable leather seat of the town car. I could sense the power. What it
