Anatomy of a Rebellion

Chapter 43

Dinner and a Shooting

Johnnie whipped his head back and forth as he surveyed the establishment. He was so busy staring at the strangers around him that he failed to realize his wife was already seated and waiting patiently for him to join her. It took a harsh, "John!" to catch his attention. He apologized quietly and then took his own seat. It was the same location he picked in every restaurant and bar: the back corner, where he could see everyone and no one could sneak up on them. Absentmindedly, he placed his hands on the table and waited for his wife to grab them. She didn't, however, because it was clear his attention was still elsewhere.

Conroy had asked that he keep a close eye on William Attaway. That meant when he had heard through the grapevine that he was going to share dinner with Captain Ross, he had to find an excuse to be there. Fortunately, there were only two eating establishments in all of Union. Tom's Tavern was closed on Sundays, so that left only Leroy's Steakhouse an option. Johnnie asked his wife, Emily, if she would join him for dinner. Not one to spend much time in restaurants, she was fully aware this was a business deal.

Johnnie had never seen William in person, so it was expected that the Solicitor General wouldn't recognize him. Still, Johnnie made sure to position himself in a location where William would have to turn around and search in order to spot him. His flashy uniform was discarded in favor of deep blue button up covered by a heavy brown jacket. He made sure to not appear even remotely connected to the military – especially the Sea Dogs.

All he could see was the back of William's head. He watched as the Solicitor General gazed around the restaurant, stared intently at the door, took a sip of water, checked his watch, and then stared at the door again. Obviously, Captain Ross was running a bit late. Despite all of the noise from the crowded restaurant, Johnnie could hear William sigh. He also heard a man let out a low wolf whistle followed by a, "Hey, who is that babe?"

Johnnie's head snapped toward the voice, but the sight of William turning to see what the man called to had him whirl back toward the Solicitor General. The sudden changes of direction strained Johnnie's neck. Instantly his hand went to massage the sore muscles as he apprehensively watched William.

William heard the wolf whistle, frowned, and then heard the man call out, "Hey, who is that babe?" He felt his brow furrow, annoyed at the childish acts. He tried to look over his shoulder in an attempt to see who was acting that way (and, maybe see who it was he was talking about). Before he could so much as make out the faces near him, a woman approached his table. His attention returned forward; he smiled when he saw that Mackenzie Ross had honored his invitation. He stood and gestured to the seat that awaited her, as though she were an honored guest in his private office.

Confidently she took the seat. It was strange to him. He had expected her to be angry, to be hesitant – to be anything other than compliant and seemingly content. It surprised him to see her in anything other than a military uniform, but the pencil skirt and buttoned blouse was still a tad formal. Compared to his three-piece suit, her outfit appeared casual at best. Aware of this subconsciously but unconcerned, William continued to grin at her like a giddy child. All she could do was raise a brow.

A waiter arrived, took their menial orders and scurried away. Casual conversation took place in between awkward sips and gulps of iced water. William thought about asking for a glass of brandy, whiskey, wine – really anything with a bite – but he opted to remain professional. There was something about the way she dashed her eyes over his shoulder that worried him, but he chalked it up to her being on guard. All of his basic questions about life were answered curtly and returned as though she actually cared. It was pleasant. It was also time to get to business.

In the blink of an eye her expression hardened. Like daggers her icy eyes gazed into his, backing him into a corner. His dry "gulp" signaled he probably wasn't as callous and calculating as he tried to appear. She demanded, "Tell me what you're doing here and tell me about Ethan."

He didn't lean back or loosen the tight collar around his neck like he wanted to. A small bead of sweat gathered on his brow but he ignored it. Instead he leaned both forearms on the table and snuck his head close to her. "Honestly?" he asked with a playful smile.

It was foxlike, but not boyish like Jordan's. She realized in that moment that they were two vastly different individuals. The intimate gesture was returned. Their faces were mere inches apart yet she still managed to mimic his smirk. For a brief second he showed weakness, only to bury it under a mask instantly. Her voice commanded him to answer, "Yes. Honestly."

His green eyes glistened before he answered, "Okay. I'm here because I know exactly the kind of man my brother is. I know who he deals with and what his goals are. I also have a very, very extensive file on military officers tied to the rising stratocrat movement and those tied to the Liberation Sect. You have two offenders in your little Company. Any guess as to whom?"

Her eyes narrowed. She knew. She had read those files herself. Information gathering was one of her specialties, after all. He waited for her to betray any knowledge she might have had, but she kept her mouth closed.

"One of those is tied to the wrong organization, though. And we both know which one," he said. No signs of fractures in the indifferent expression she held showed. "James Goldwin is undoubtedly tied to the Liberation Sect. The man himself would proudly proclaim it if asked. The other? Major Raymond? He isn't tied to either. But I'd be a damned fool if I couldn't tell from his record that he's itching for something a lot more than a pat on the back and a chance to run for office."

Her smile twisted and she said, "Then you'd be a damned fool."

Defeated, he leaned back and found his glass of water once again. A man Mackenzie had never seen approached their table. He gave her a hardy stare before leaning in toward William's ear. Something was whispered that caused William to nod. The man disappeared back into the crowded restaurant. William set his glass down slowly and licked his lips.

"So. The man and the pretty woman in the corner back there. Who is he?" he asked. He gestured toward Johnnie's table with his head. Mackenzie looked over his shoulder, made fleeting eye contact with Johnnie, and soon had her eyes locked back with William.

"I don't know him," she lied.

William laughed at how easily it was for him to read through her. "Well… I think we need to go someplace where…"

Johnnie had seen William's head jerk toward him and Mackenzie had been looking over toward him since she arrived. So much for being subtle. He head William request that they leave, but was unable to make out the rest of his conversation with Mackenzie. Whatever was said, it was clear they planned on staying at least until they finished eating. It should have made him relax, but now he was just more on edge. The man that had swooped in and spoke into William's ear must have realized Johnnie was watching them; he hadn't counted on the Solicitor General's personal body guard being a factor.

Emily watched her husband's face twist and turn as he mulled over the situation. The sight made her giggle and the sound brought his attention to her for the first time that night. All of the negative emotions left him. Slowly, his lips crept into a small smile and he said, "I love you."

She responded, "I know." A blush appeared on Johnnie's face as his smile grew bigger. For once he didn't go immediately back to work and instead focused his eyes on her. She asked, "Alright, hotshot. We're not here for dinner. What's going on behind me?"

Questions like that were one of the many reasons why Emily had managed to stay Johnnie's wife longer than any of his previous wives. She was astute and curious, not afraid to dig a little into Johnnie's career or hobbies. He probably told her more than he should've. No question went without a decent answer.

"That guy is the Solicitor General and he asked Captain Ross to dinner. Conroy wanted me to keep an eye out."

Emily raised a brow. "Is he dangerous?"

"I doubt it."

"Then… why?"

"I think he's afraid Captain Ross will say something to him if it will help Senator Hughes."

"After what he said? Nothing can help him."

"General Trotter was more convincing."

After each new sentence their voices got lower and lower until they were practically whispers. Mentioning those names was the same as throwing up a red flag. Both were now synonymous with disenfranchised individuals and antiestablishment rallying. Emily already knew that Johnnie was a radical at his core; she had nodded her head at every political point he had said over the years, but whether it was because she was merely playing along or truly believed, he didn't know. He didn't care to know. As long as they didn't argue about it, it wasn't something he would concern himself with.

"Is Major Raymond planning something?" she asked.

It surprised him to hear the question. "Nothing really," he answered honestly. "He seems ready to snap at any moment. I've heard that when he rescued the President in Ozark that some words were exchanged. About conspiracies and things like that. Typical fringe rhetoric. After that latest stunt by Doyle, though…"

He didn't finish. He couldn't finish. She watched as his grip on his glass of water grew to the point where his hands were trembling. If he clamped down any harder, it would shatter in his hands. Lovingly she covered his hand with hers; carefully he pried his fingers lose. The attack on Corpus Christi still haunted him at night, and the sudden repeat that Doyle attempted on Union had done its emotional damage. If she had doubted his ramblings about the "evil stratocrat movement" before, she believed him after witnessing that deadly terrorist attack.

Her caress calmed him. He said with a tone most serious, "Civil war is going to be here by the end of the year, Emily. I'm afraid it's not going to be an even split. A handful of tiny factions will all try to take power at once. Right now, we need to find out who is going to be there for us. I think that's what Conroy is more concerned about. Can we trust Captain Ross or the Solicitor General?"

William and Mackenzie were just leaving the restaurant when he turned his attention back to them. They would have to follow.

For William, the walk was an opportunity to have a real discussion and not be bound by formalities. Always polite and ever the gentlemen, he had no intention of being rude. Yet he also had to speak frankly to her without others listening in. Fortunately, Union was a small town with few people on the street, especially on Sunday night. He offered to walk Mackenzie home, which she immediately refused, but he tagged along behind her anyway. Finally, she had enough.

"What exactly is it that you want?" she demanded. He looked so laid back with his shoulders slouched and his hands deep in his pockets. The pace of their stroll was not interrupted by their discussions.

"I'm not an i***t. I know people think I am. I know they scoff when they hear my name. But I'd be damned if I can't see this revolution happening from a mile away," he said. For once she allowed her expression to betray her surprise. "You think I don't do any work, do you? No, I know everything that's happening in this country. I know Trotter, Ellis, Palko, LaRue, Raymond, Anderson – him? I've met him in person. He didn't kill your dad, by the way. I was there – and every piece of s**t militia leader that can shoot better than your average boy scout. I've got background files and psych profiles two inches thick on the most dangerous elements in this country."

Mackenzie did her best to ignore the part about his father. That wasn't important at the moment. Instead, she said, "I'm afraid you're mistaken. The Major and all of us are dedicated to the protection of the United States."

"But not the pursuit of power through political means like Ellis and the stratocrats, I know. Your Company feels shortchanged by not entitled. Congratulations. But what exactly does 'protection' mean, anyway? Are you interested in fighting just foreign enemies or domestic ones, too?"

She didn't answer.

"No, no need to say anything. I bet you're wondering if I'm one of those domestic enemies. Or, perhaps you're wondering if I'm an enemy of Major Raymond. After all, why else would I show up unannounced and then take his attractive adjutant out for dinner? And asking all these questions, most of which sound hostile at best. I want to assure you, Miss Ross, that my intentions aren't to harm you."

Again, she said nothing. He really did talk as much as Jordan. It was a bit obnoxious. Time was being wasted with his pointless exposition. She wanted him to hurry and get to the point. They had already arrived at the freshly constructed apartment complex she called home. The guard on duty saluted when she approached and eyed the Solicitor General as he snuck by with her. Since she said nothing, the guard assumed he was a welcomed visitor. Lucien, William's bodyguard, was forced to stand outside.

Not a single word exited his mouth once they were inside the building. He followed her closely as she climbed the three flights of stairs toward her room. For a moment she wondered if she had lost him; a quick glance over her shoulder revealed he was staring rather intently at her. Goosebumps threatened to crawl over her skin but somehow she stopped the involuntary action. She was starting to think letting him follow her was a bad idea.

Abruptly she came to a halt. Facing him, she said, "You've got thirty seconds to finish."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall next to her door. "Aren't you going to ask me if I want to come inside? Have a cup of coffee?" he asked with a smirk.

"Twenty seconds."

Somehow, his smile stayed when he commanded a little harsher, "Let me inside." His hands shifted from his chest to his hips.

"Fifteen seconds."

This time, his smile was erased by a deep, annoyed frown. The hands which she had been watching up to that point were a blur as he drew a pistol and pointed it at her abdomen. "Let me inside," he demanded.

She hesitated. Her mind played out all the different ways she could snatch the gun from him, fracture his arm, break his nose, punch his throat… It wouldn't have been too much of a fight. Instead, she calmly complied with his order. Once the door was ajar he pushed her inside and slammed the door shut. His hands fumbled with the lock behind him. It didn't take her long to realize he was scared by his own actions. Shaking like an earthquake, he probably couldn't have hit her even at pointblank. She had to admit her heart was beating a tad faster than normal, however.

"I-I'm… I'm not going to hurt you. I swear to God. I just… I need you to listen. Listen to me for a few more minutes. You don't have any bugs or devices around here, right? Nothing recording this right now?"

She was surprised at how he stammered over and hurried out his words. All she could do was nod.

"Okay. Okay listen. If you've heard any rumors about Ellis being Commander in Chief it's true. Right now the stratocrats have unbelievable power. Palko. Palko doesn't like him. At all. She's a crazy cunt, okay? She'll have him killed if he doesn't sweep into Washington and execute some of the suits there. He's in too close with Leoni. Leoni is crazy, but he's got Ellis on a tight leash. He's power hungry and he is scared to death of guys like Raymond and Trotter. Because he can't win against them. Ellis knows this. Ellis is an asshole. A big asshole. But he has Raymond's back for the time being. If Raymond starts to act out against the military they'll squash him. Palko already wants him squashed. These two factions –two separate factions of the stratocrats – are going cause a lot of trouble real quick.

"The guy that was behind me at the restaurant? I know who he was, alright? That was Johnnie Rawlings, Commander, US Navy, instructor, Sea Dogs pilot. His kid won a national award for rocketry. He's got a dozen degrees from Annapolis and he is dangerous. He's close with Palko and he knows the ins and outs of every organization on this f*****g planet. Guys like him are the ones you need to watch. Anyone near Palko. Get rid of them if you have to. I know… I know this is a lot. Are you getting this?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Palko bad, Ellis not so bad. Right?"

"Yes. Yes, exactly. Both are bad but we need to be careful. Look, a lot of guys in Washington are targets right now thanks to Palko. Guys like Overfelt, Leoni, Kenning, my dad… Holy s**t, my dad – "

The door that was leaning against was suddenly kicked open and off its hinges. It practically flattened William. The gun in his hand was accidentally fired and a few bullets peppered the wall behind Mackenzie. It startled her, but she was quick to dash down at grab the weapon as it dropped out of William's hand. The man that had done the damage, Johnnie, reached down to snatch William by his collar.

Another pistol was pulled and William fired a single shot out of fear and desperation. The bullet hit Johnnie and he stumbled out of the way. Hurriedly he tried to kick himself out from under the door, but Mackenzie commanded, "Halt. Drop the gun."

William gazed up at the barrel of a gun pointed at his forehead. There was no time wasted. He discarded his other pistol immediately. From the hallway another person appeared. Barton, whom had been situated as Mackenzie's neighbor, barreled into the room dressed only in his PJs with his assault rifle ready to go.

"What the f**k is happening? Are you alright, Captain?" his strained voice inquired.

"I'm fine. Get him help," she said as she motioned to Johnnie. The pilot put up his hand to silently halt Barton. The bullet has hit his forearm but hadn't caused any serious injuries. A few stitches and he would be back to work in the morning.

It surprised William to see Mackenzie throwing the door off of him. She even helped him to his feet and made sure he was steady. "You understand?" he asked. Her eyes darted to the injured Johnnie as he carefully bandaged his bloodies arm with a piece of his heavy brown jacket. It was a bit strange to her that he had kept such a close eye on her when they had barely spoken before.

"Yes," she whispered to William. She raised her voice when she ordered to Barton, "Please escort the Solicitor General out of the building, Sergeant."

Barton snapped to attention. "Yes, Captain!"

Barton wasn't as nice to William. He wrestled him toward the door and made sure his assault rifle stayed firmly planted against the Solicitor General's back. Once they were gone, Mackenzie knelt next to the injured Johnnie.

"I apologize, Captain," he said through gritted teeth as he had to once against changed his make shift bandage. She stepped in to help and he didn't argue. He continued to explain, "I saw that he was carrying a gun when you both left. I figured I had better follow."

"Is that all?"

There was no answer. When she took her eyes away from his injury and looked at his face, he appeared irritated by the question. His expression made it clear to her that he had no other reason to barge in on them the way he did. Even if William was right about Palko, she felt as though she could trust Johnnie and the Sea Dogs.

Harshly she yanked on his wounded arm and he yelped like a small child. "Come on. I'm taking you to the hospital." Meekly, he complied.