“It is,” he said.
As they brushed through the West Wing, one of the SSA agents quietly called to have the car pulled around. They went out a set of double doors to a private exit, where the Secret Service was sweeping their vehicle. Kate could hear the tapping of the director’s shoes as they waited for the nod of approval to enter.
As they slid into the backseat, he turned to her. “Is he on board?”
“He is frustrated, he is angry, he is not one hundred percent sold, but yes,” she said.
“How much does he know? You were only in there for an hour—”
“He is still poring over everything.”
“Should you have left—?”
“I would have loved to have stayed. But I have yet another crisis on my hands, thanks to the inability of your men to keep my mother safely protected.”
“I’ve already explained—”
“You were the one who convinced me that she was some sort of danger to people! I had my own mother practically arrested and quarantined—”
“As we’ve explained, if all of the abducted are being activated, then at some point, she will be too. You’ve seen what they can do. We have no idea what she is capable of doing.”
“And yet my little sister was able to lead a parade of reporters in and waltz her right out?”
He sighed, silencing his phone buzzing in his suit coat. “Frankly, we never anticipated what your sister had in store.”
“My sister Stella is a journalist, Mark. Have you met many? They are resourceful and, even more, they are relentless. She knew the last thing you’d expect was a press conference at your front door. What matters is they have to be found. She is my mother, for God sake. I want her and my sister safe, regardless of how pissed off I am. And Jesus Christ, where is my nephew?”
“We’ll find them all. We just needed more men, which is why the president had to get on board. The National Guard—”
“I had that authorized days ago. They’ve already mobilized in California and North Dakota. They’re obviously already in Louisiana, but how you intend to find one person in a state besieged by hurricanes is beyond me. As much as I hate the fact that you have a child trapped miles beneath the earth, at least the streets of DC don’t have to become a military zone.”
His phone rang again, and he handed it to one of the agents in the front seat. “Can you see what Agent Lucas wants? He’s called five times. OK, Senator, this is important: You believe that the president understands the seriousness of this now?”
Kate scrolled through the mountain of texts on her own phone. Her communications director had also called repeatedly. Everyone wanted her response to her sister’s claims that the government was holding their mother hostage.
Once again, her mother was telling the truth.
“Convincing a sixty-eight-year-old former marine that people are being abducted and returned to earth as weapons is not an easy sell, Director. Which is why you incorporated me in this, knowing that if I believe it, then the president will too. I understand how you think I’m your pawn in all this. But I can promise you this,” she said, raising a finger. “I went into that boy’s room on my own. It was my life that was in danger. But I did it of my volition.”
She’d never been more terrified in her life. Ryan had told her that her nephew had been dreaming, that the violence was about to start. She’d slipped out to find the agents stationed outside choking each other. As she’d hurried by, one of them sprang after her, his eyes wild. She’d reached the elevator, the doors barely shutting to keep him from following. He’d pounded on the doors and screamed like an enraged animal.
“The president saw the video of what happened in that hallway,” she said softly.
“Agent Hallow warned you for a reason—”
“Director, I’m sorry, you need to take this.” The agent in the front seat handed him the phone.
“Rick, just find out—”
“Director, it’s about the boy. He wants to talk to the senator.”
“What?” Kate sat forward.
“Agent Lucas?” Mark put the phone to his ear. “What’s going on?”
Kate watched as the director shook his head. “No way is she going back down there. Not after what happened.”
“What’s going on?” Kate asked.
She watched as the director’s eyes widened a bit. He nodded. “Agent, hold on. Senator, Ryan says your nephew has found another of the abducted.”
“How does he know this?” she demanded.
“He says he’s seen them.”
“Does he know where they are?” she asked.
“He says he does, but in exchange for that information, he wants you to go with him to San Diego,” Mark said, not hiding his frustration. “I don’t know what this means, but he’d like Iron Man to give him the tour.”
Jane knew she should be dead.
She’d heard the glass shatter, felt the weight of the hurricane winds, saw the chunks of wood and metal fly through to pummel and slice her and William Chance apart.
She’d shut her eyes instinctively, bracing herself.
Instead, the southernmost wall, on the other side of the room, shuddered with the impact. The plaster wall of the old hospital cracked like an eggshell, exposing the wood studs and insulation, until it too was torn apart by shards of splintered plywood, rock, and whatever else the winds carried.
Yet she and William remained untouched, as was everything behind them, even though they were directly across from the windows that had blown apart when the storm barreled in.
The winds had turned. They had turned the winds.
When she met William’s eyes, she saw a mixture of astonishment at what they had done. There was no discussion, no stammering; just a basic understanding.
We did this.
And in that realization came silence, and the equally jarring sight of sunlight slowly peering through the dissipating storm.
Within seconds, the cries started coming from the hallway.
William touched her arm. She felt the jolt again, so strong it was almost electrical. We have to go.
The cry of her name from further down the hall broke her from the connection.
“I… can’t,” she said.
Go. I’ll find you.
As she hurried away, she realized William hadn’t opened his mouth to speak.
She immediately found the hurricane had showed its force in every room with a window. Walls had collapsed, water gushed in, debris covered the floors, the humidity was rushing in with the stank smell of ruin.
Fearing the worst was coming, hospital staff had moved all the remaining patients to interior rooms. While the generators staggered to keep operational, the hospital was now also open to the outside, with hundreds of gaping wounds. The glaringly bright sunlight revealed the impossibility of keeping patients here.
She’d forced herself to stop thinking about what had happened as she and the staff rushed to keep people alive. Over the next frantic hours, she’d seen glimpses of William, his hat pulled low, helping to clear debris from exits for the mass evacuation. No one had questioned who he was in the chaos; he appeared to be another example of a New Orleanian trying to once again rise above the horror of the hour as he helped to clear the halls and doorways for the gurneys and wheelchairs.
When the National Guard arrived, Dr. Wraf ordered all of the staff out as well. The patients were now fully in the care of the military. Shelia had run past her in the hallway, saying it was time to go. Jane told her that she’d meet her at the staging area outside the city. Jane had then grabbed Dr. Wraf, telling him she needed to check in on her own home before leaving the city. Exhausted and having heard repeatedly from staff who insisting on seeing what remained of their own properties, he’d only nodded and told her to hurry. Who knew when the next storm was coming, he’d said.