Dante snapped, "What do you want him to do? Open fire?"
Knox answered, "That would be a start. Of course, a few weeks ago we could’ve just opened fire on select targets and this never would have happened. This is on your shoulders, Jon. All you had to do was tough it out. You failed."
Brewer turned to the man with the bushy mustache.
"I'm not going to murder anyone. Maybe you could, I can’t."
"And that’s why you shouldn’t have been calling the shots."
Jon did not want to argue with Gordon anymore. Or more accurately, he could not argue anymore. His mind raced with possibilities ranging from wondering if Gordon was right…or maybe Evan was actually right.
As much as he felt in control and in command on the battlefield, he desired no such position of political authority.
Chants from outside carried across the mansion grounds and seeped in through the closed windows and doors: "No vote! No peace!" and "No More Dictators! No More King! Give us liberty…let freedom ring!"
Dante Jones left the room as Ashley walked in. She wore a panicked expression.
"My son. Has anyone seen JB? He went to get a drink…he said he went to get a drink…then he was gone…" Ashley nearly cried.
Gordon roared, "What? Where the Hell is Dante? I told you! I told you, you should have brought in army units! Now someone snatched up Jorgie-"
"Easy does it, Gordo. No one said nothing about Ashley’s boy gettin’ snatched. I reckon he’s just playing in one of the rooms," Shepherd placed a hand on Ashley’s shoulder. "I’ll go find him. Don’t seem like anything worthwhile going on around here anyway."
Shep made to leave but stopped as a flood of persons poured into the room. Dante Jones and Evan Godfrey led that flood, followed by a camera broadcasting live and a perfectly groomed female reporter.
Jon shouted, "What is this?" but managed to control his surprise enough to reach out and stop Knox from pulling his gun.
"Calm down!" Dante yelled. "Jon, I let Evan in so you two could talk. Just…talk."
Godfrey smiled as the camera rolled.
"Jon, I’m glad you finally decided to see me."
Brewer hesitated in the face of the bright lights, the crowd, and the understanding that his next words carried across the entirety of the nation.
"Evan…you…um…"
Knox interrupted, "Tell your mob to disperse."
Godfrey would not be bothered or intimidated by Knox this day. No, this was Evan Godfrey’s day. Everything led to this. He had been patient, he had been resourceful, he had moved all his chess pieces into position masterfully. Why, he even impressed himself.
Evan casually tugged at the lapels of his perfectly tailored suit and asked, "Jon, are you in charge here or is Imperial Intelligence running the show?"
Brewer swallowed hard and answered, "I am in charge."
"Good," the President of the Senate projected a friendly smile. "Then you and I should talk. Right here. In front of the people."
The crowd in the room stepped back like children on the playground clearing a ring for a schoolyard fight. Even Gordon Knox bit his tongue and gave way.
"This isn’t right, Evan. You’re tearing down everything Trevor built."
"Jon, I’m trying to protect what Trevor built. I loved Trevor," the Senator made sure to enunciate those words clearly for the sake of the reporter’s microphone. "I am here on his behalf. I am here to protect his interests."
"What? Wow, you really think I’m going to believe that?"
Evan raised his hands in an unthreatening manner and laid his palms bare like a messiah coming to bless the masses.
"Trevor prepared for this day, Jon. Why do you think he accepted the new Senate? As a means of succession. He never publicly named an individual to take over as Emperor should he depart, but he did help create the Senate and the representative districts throughout our great nation. This is what he wanted after he died."
Out the corner of his eye, Jon saw Gordon Knox's face glowing beet red and his fingers twitching just above his side arm. He expected the Director of Intelligence might just execute Evan there and then on live TV. However, Jon saw Knox's eyes dart around the room, first falling on Jones-who watched Knox like a hawk-and then to Ashley, who stood dangerously close to any possible crossfire.
At that point, Jon saw Gordon relax. Or, rather, stand down.
With that point of concern brushed aside, Jon returned his focus to Evan Godfrey and the man's argument. Again, his mind raced and he absently aired his thoughts aloud, "This is what Trevor wanted, after he died?"
"Yes."
Jon regrouped and accused, "I think this is what you want, whether or not Trevor is dead."
Evan feigned injury. "I have been the most loyal of Trevor’s friends," his voice was sure but calm. "I never followed him blindly; I always offered differences of opinion, because a true friend is not some yes-man dolt. No one weeps for him more than I. For the sake of the people, I would give anything to have him back here again. I miss his leadership and his friendship."
Evan wondered if that sounded as good over the air waves at it did in the room. Sometimes there was a difference, he knew.
"I miss you, too."
That confused Evan. He looked directly at Jon, heard the words, but it did not appear that Jon's lips moved.
"Guess it really all is in the timing."
Brewer’s eyes widened. An audible gush of air echoed through the room as the assembled cast of players and spectators drew in breathes of shock.
Godfrey realized the words had not been Jon's. He turned. So did the camera.
Trevor Stone stood in the doorway holding his son, JB, and wearing a strange black outfit under a more recognizable army camouflage jacket. Tyr the Elkhound hovered by his side.
"JB!" Ashley's relief came first for her son, the most important person in her life. As Trevor eased his boy to the ground, Ashley asked, "Where did you go?"
"I went to meet father at the runes. You should have seen the look on the guards’ faces!"
They were nothing, no doubt, compared to the look on Evan Godfrey’s face. His jaw hung open on live television, his eyes open even further. A visible quiver wobbled through the Senator as if he were made of guitar strings that had just been played by the devil himself. Sweat gleaned on his forehead from the camera light that suddenly grew scalding hot.
The Emperor joined Brewer and Evan in the ring of people.
"T-t-t-t-"
"Trevor," Stone finished for the Senator. He then glanced around the room at his people. Lori smiled, Jon appeared ready to cry with relief, Knox's forehead no longer glowed so red, and Dante trembled from head to toe. "Relax," Trevor placed a hand on the Internal Security Chief’s shoulder. "It’s okay. It’s okay."
"I reckon you’ve got a tale or two to tell," Shepherd wore his own grin even though he noted that Reverend Johnny had not yet appeared.
Stone nodded in agreement then looked to Evan again. His eyes grew sharp as he grabbed hold of Godfrey’s right hand and shook it firmly. The Senator's arm bounced like over-cooked penne.
"I’m glad I can count on your loyalty, Evan. I want you to know, what you just said here in front of the camera for all to hear…I want you to know that that means a lot to me. Really."
"Ummm…"
"So how about the two of us go and tell my people that everything is okay, that the big march is over, and Trevor Stone is back and in charge."
It was not a suggestion. Of course, it did not matter. Godfrey’s will was temporarily on hiatus. He had suffered one of the heaviest knock-down punches in history, captured on the live cameras the Senator had gone through so much trouble to make arrangements for.
"Ummm…"
"Good. C’mon…it’s just over here," Trevor led Evan to the balcony like an orderly helping an elderly patient to supper. Gordon Knox smiled, pulled the curtains, and then opened the sliding glass doors for the men.