“Is that reporter always so close to Sergeant Gander?” Cody asked.
“No, but she is a lot of the time. Too many of the wrong times, as it turns out.”
“Captain,” one of the security teams called in Remington’s ear.
“I want no interruptions,” Remington said.
“Understood, sir. But you also left orders to let you know if a reporter from OneWorld NewsNet showed up. There’s one here now, sir.”
Remington glanced back at the door to the command post. A clean-cut young man with blond hair stood in the doorway. An older man carrying a camera case in one hand stood beside him.
“Show them in,” Remington said.
The young man crossed the floor and extended a hand. He exuded confidence and competence. “I’m Josh Campbell, Captain Remington. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“Mr. Campbell.” Remington took the young man’s hand and released it.
“This is my associate, Ben Howard.” Campbell nodded toward the cameraman.
Howard inclined his head but didn’t say anything.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Campbell?” Remington asked.
“My news director, at the request of Nicolae Carpathia, sent me here to get your story.”
“Why?”
Campbell smiled hugely, exposing keen white incisors that were made for the camera. “Because your efforts here in Sanliurfa are important, Captain Remington. Nicolae feels that the world should know about them.”
Remington noticed how easily the younger man threw around Carpathia’s name. It was like they were old friends. Strangely, the usage didn’t hit the captain’s lie radar.
“Nicolae has big plans for you, Captain,” Campbell said.
“What plans?”
Campbell grinned again and shook his head. He mimed zipping his mouth shut. “Nope. You’re not going to hear it from me. That’s Nicolae’s surprise to spring. I’m just here to make you look good and make sure the whole world knows who you are.”
“Sir,” Archer called.
Remington glanced at the lieutenant.
“We’ve located Goose.” Archer touched one of the computer screens.
“Find me a location where a Black Hawk can sit down,” Remington ordered. “Then get First Sergeant Gander there.”
“Yes, sir.” Archer turned to the task.
“I can see you’re really busy at the moment,” Campbell said. “Maybe you could point us to an out-of-the-way place.”
“Corporal,” Remington addressed the guard who had brought the newsmen over.
“Sir.”
“Escort these men to a neutral area. Keep them in the loop, but sit on them.”
The corporal saluted smartly and led his charges away.
“Having the media underfoot isn’t a good thing.” Cody scowled in irritation.
“Maybe not if you’re living the life of a cockroach and can’t stand the light,” Remington said, feeling better about things already. “I’m not involved with anything that’s going to send my career down in flames.”
“You’re involved with me. I’m involved with Icarus. If that man shows up at the wrong time, if what he knows falls into the wrong hands, everything over here could go wrong.”
Remington gazed at the man coolly. “You’re making me think I should reevaluate this working relationship we have.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then perhaps you should think more quietly,” Remington suggested. Personally, he was looking forward to having his story told in the media. This was where he belonged: in the limelight. He turned his attention back to the events unfolding in Harran.
24
United States of America
Columbus, Georgia
St. Francis Hospital Intensive Care Unit
Local Time 0055 Hours
Jenny McGrath sat by her father’s bed and ate her dinner. The day at the hospital had been hectic. Even weeks after the disappearances, everything hadn’t returned to normal. People were more paranoid and vulnerable than ever. A lot of traffic accidents had come in today, and victims of gang-and drug-related violence had been steadily appearing through the evening.
She’d been cleaning the waiting rooms outside the ER when a young police officer was brought in. He’d been shot during a domestic squabble between a wife and a husband. They’d almost lost him twice before his father arrived at the ER. The father had already been upset about the unexplained disappearance of his wife. Now he had this to deal with.
Jenny had been tempted to tell him of Megan Gander’s belief that God had called up all the children and those who believed in Him during the rapture. But her own lack of faith and her hesitancy to believe that what Megan said was true had held her tongue.
All those long, lonely years of growing up in Jackson McGrath’s drunken shadow had taught her to believe in little outside her own skin. So instead of saying anything, she’d finished her job and walked away. She still didn’t know what had happened to the young police officer.
Unexpectedly the television came on.
Surprised, Jenny glanced at her father, thinking that he might have regained consciousness and switched it on. No matter how drunk he’d gotten wherever they’d lived, he’d never been too inebriated to turn on the television. Or drive. Drunk driving had finally cost her father his license.
But Jackson McGrath still slept. His sallow cheeks had already started to darken from his beard growth. A piece of toilet paper was still stuck to his chin where she’d accidentally cut him that morning. Just looking at the slight wound made her feel guilty all over again. She’d learned to shave him when she was little so he wouldn’t cut his face to pieces while shaking with the DTs. Delirium tremens had been another aspect of her home education that most of the kids her age had never had to deal with.
Jenny guessed that one of the remote controls in the other rooms had activated her father’s television as well. Sometimes they did that and changed channels, which proved disturbing to some of the patients and their families.
She watched the television out of habit, not really paying attention. Then she saw First Sergeant Samuel Adams Gander in combat gear and firing a rifle.
The first time Jenny had seen Goose on TV, she hadn’t recognized him, but it was hard to live in Megan Gander’s house even for only a few days without seeing the sergeant’s photograph. In those pictures, he was seldom alone, except in staged photos for the army. The other pictures were of Goose and Megan at their wedding and other special occasions and of Goose with Joey and Chris at various ages.
From the beginning, Jenny had seen something solid and generous in the sergeant. He wasn’t the kind of man that she’d often met, and never while with her father.
Seeing the danger First Sergeant Gander was in-or had been in; Jenny wasn’t sure from the news story-she bowed her head and prayed for him. Then, because she heard her father’s breathing, she prayed for him as well.
Footsteps entered the room.
Startled, Jenny looked up and spotted Tony Murray, her father’s midnight-to-six nurse, standing on the other side of the bed. Tony was in his early forties, a nice guy with a quiet disposition. He wore earrings in both ears and a thick, black goatee that matched his hair and bushy eyebrows behind his John Lennon glasses.
“Sorry,” he said in a soft voice.
“It’s okay.”
Tony took her dad’s vitals and made notations on the clipboard on the wall. “I see more people doing that these days.”
“What?”
“Praying.”
Jenny’s cheeks warmed, and she turned her attention back to the bowl of macaroni and cheese she’d brought up from the hospital cafeteria. She suddenly felt really uncomfortable.
“Man, my bad,” Tony said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” Jenny lifted her gaze to meet Tony’s, and he rolled his eyes.
“Anybody else, you can lie to, but I’m a human lie detector. Ask any nurse or doctor on this floor. I ask a patient if they’ve taken their medication, I know immediately if that patient is lying. A lot of the doctors and nurses come to me if they can’t tell if a patient is telling the truth. I always can.”