The aspirin was not working as quickly as Ben had hoped.
“Do we know who we can count on?”
“Other than the four of us,” Walt said, “No one. Where are you?”
“The apartment. I …”
“And you’re still alive? Interesting. There are assassins about.”
“I know. I saw their work.”
Walt spoke after a long pause. “Here’s what I need from you, Sheridan. Leave now. My wife and daughter are in a predicament. They should be able to handle themselves; they’re well trained. But I would prefer backup. Oh, and Sheridan, do hurry. We have much to do, and we want James to be comfortable in his final hours.”
Ben cringed. “As always, Walt, you are a beacon of hope.”
The instant Ben closed the phone, he felt the muzzle of a gun push into the back of his neck. In better, more sober times, he never would have allowed anyone to come so close without detection.
“You still believe his orthodoxy, even now, at the end?” Rand Paulus sounded amazed. “How could you have listened all these years and not realized who held the moral high ground? Drop the gun.”
Ben did as told. “Rand. The debate ended. We took a vote. It was unanimous. I thought we were together on this.”
Rand chuckled. “We could have voted thirteen to one against Walt, and he still would have overruled us.”
“Is that why you killed Ignatius? Because you knew he never would have turned against Walt? I don’t understand any of you. We had fifteen years to prepare, and now at the end you try to change the outcome.”
Rand pressed the muzzle deeper. “A few random casualties at most. Nothing compared to the horror we’ll see in less than seven hours if we don’t stop the Jewel.”
“You don’t know that, Rand. You’re trying to violate laws that have infinite consequences.” Ben decided he was not going to continue this pointless debate. He took two steps forward and turned around. Rand’s gun was aimed directly between his eyes.
“If you feel the need to shoot someone you’ve known all your life, go for it. I can’t stop a bullet, and nobody will hear a thing. All I want is to be with Jamie at the end. I want to tell him how sorry I am, that he didn’t deserve any of this. I don’t expect him to forgive me, especially when he learns the whole truth. Still, I think he’s entitled to as much. Don’t you?”
Rand wavered. He lowered the gun slightly.
“I don’t hate you for what you did,” Ben said. “I just wish you had tried to talk. Ignatius was an understanding man. He would have listened.”
In a flash, Ben ducked and jammed an elbow in Rand’s gut, enough to cause his fellow Chancellor to drop the gun. Ben got to the weapon first, then spun about and aimed.
“Me? I don’t listen anymore.”
Ben pulled the trigger once. A hole opened in the center of Rand’s forehead, and the flour mill foreman collapsed.
Ben grabbed both guns and made a quick exit for the Huggins house.
11
3:17 a.m.
T HE HUGGINS HOUSE was dark save for the flashlights that guided Sammie and her mother, Grace, to their duties. At one point, Sammie lost her composure. She had returned to her bedroom at the moment her father leveled Jamie with a carefully placed chop to the back of his neck. Her emotions got the better of her, and she screamed. With Jamie lying unconscious, her father whirled about, grabbed her by the shoulders and stared deep into her eyes.
“I had no choice, Pumpkin. I have to take control of this situation. I always did. You understand? Put your emotions aside. He can’t be saved.”
Walt towered over her like an iron giant, but Sammie felt comfort in his assuring arms. He knew what was best. He allowed Jamie to stay in her life despite everything.
“I know,” she whispered. “I just wish we had more time.”
“You’ll have that chance with someone else. A stronger man. Someone guaranteed a future.” He kissed her on the lips and ordered her to the garage to retrieve duct tape and cord. Sammie did as she was told, passing her mother in the doorway. She didn’t expect her father to add one last nugget. “Did you know he’s a drunk like his brother?”
She heard those sorts of claims before. He would tell her about Jamie’s supposed involvement in petty crime – some of which she knew to be true – but also suggested he was at times a marijuana user and/or seller who graduated to harder drugs as he entered high school. Walt never followed-up on his accusations, so she filed them away as the rants of an overzealous dad. She knew Jamie fought a daily battle with his lingering grief and his anger toward Ben.
Walt bound Jamie and carried him to the garage, where he plopped the boy in the trunk of his Buick. The family stood together as Walt explained the next step.
“Obviously, Agatha has swayed several of our colleagues to her cause. And apparently, the Caryllan pulse triggered earlier than I predicted. Nonetheless, stick to the plan. Only difference: I want lights out as soon as I leave. Finish everything quickly as you can. No more than twenty minutes.”
Sammie and her mother could have finished the list of evacuation duties quickly under normal circumstances. Once Grace shut off the power, each step required more care. They needed to box up all documents that might have indicated the Hugginses ever lived at 614 Truman Street. They moved swiftly through every drawer and cabinet. Sammie changed into jeans, t-shirt, blouse and her best athletic shoes then boxed up her schoolbooks and papers.
They divvied up ten incendiary devices. Earlier, she asked her father why they
