THE ASSASSINATED PRESIDENT

Chapter 4 The Capital that Buried Him

By dawn, the city was already prepared for the anniversary ceremony.

Kaelen watched from the back seat of Seraphine's car as they passed familiar streets, one vastly different than the ones he remembered from his dreams.

Or was it the other way around?

Government buildings loomed behind a concrete jungle of glass and steel. Massive monitors projected President Darius Vale's smiling face. Giant banners with Kaelen's face hung from street lamps,

SEVEN YEARS OF REMEMBRANCE.

PRESIDENT KAELEN VEYR - FOREVER OUR LEADER

Kaelen stared at his reflection.

"They made you a poster boy," Seraphine noted.

He watched as a group of students placed flowers at the base of his statue.

"I don't remember being that important."

"You were,"

"Then why does it feel like I'm staring at a stranger?"

Seraphine said nothing as they pulled into the first security gate.

She had swapped the license plate and dressed him in a worn-out delivery uniform. A cap hid the dark circles under his eyes.

It should have been enough.

It wasn't.

The moment they pulled into the capital, Kaelen spotted his face staring back at him, but this time, the image was massive.

An enlargement of his presidential portrait decorated the side of a government building.

OUR PRESIDENT OUR HERO was scrawled across the bottom in bold letters.

Kaelen turned away.

"They really do believe I'm dead,"

"Most of them do,"

"And you?"

"I never did,"

He was watching her closely, "Why?"

Seraphine's lips curled into a sad smile ,

“Because dead men don't leave unfinished sentences.”

Kaelen frowned

"What does that mean?"

"You once told me, 'If I disappear, don't believe the funeral.'"

Kaelen's eyes narrowed.

"I said that?"

"Yes,"

"When?"

"Three days before the assassination,"

Kaelen turned to face her.

"Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"Because I wanted to know what you remembered first,"

"Then?"

"You remembered the wrong things,"

He nearly chuckled.

"You're good at being annoying,"

"I learned from you,"

The road twisted onto a smaller street as they neared the presidential palace.

Kaelen's breath came faster, memories crowding in.

The gates.

The guards.

The long driveway.

The fountain at the center of the courtyard.

Then another memory surfaced.

The night of his assassination, walking up to these gates, a man waiting inside.

Mr. President, we need to talk before it's too late .

Kaelen squeezed his eyes shut.

"Stop the car,"

Seraphine did.

"What happened?"

"I've been here before,"

"Of course you have,"

"No, recently,"

She turned to him, surprised. Kaelen stared at the buildings across the street.

An old-fashioned cafe sat between two government buildings.

"I remember meeting someone there,"

"Who?"

"I don't know,"

Kaelen got out, then hesitated. Seraphine followed, watching as Kaelen led the way inside.

The small café only had three other customers. Something about the place felt familiar.

He walked up to a table by the window.

A memory surfaced. Not of this place, but of a man who had sat here.

Lucien Rook.

He had slid a small key across the table.

"You have one chance," Lucien had said.

"What does it open?" Kaelen asked.

Lucien's reply was simple.

"Your grave,"

Kaelen pulled his hand away. Seraphine's eyes were on him.

"What did you see?"

"A key,"

"Where is it?"

"I don't know,"

"Look harder,"

He closed his eyes, and the memory returned. Lucien pushes the key across the table, Kaelen takes it.

Then something else. A phrase, three words.

"Give it to Elena,"

Kaelen opened his eyes.

"Seraphine,"

"What?"

"Do you know where Elena lived before she disappeared?"

"Yes,"

"Then take me there,"

Seraphine hesitated.

"Kaelen, if Elena is alive-"

"She is,"

"You don't know that,"

"I do,"

"How?"

"Because if she were dead, they wouldn't have sent me her photograph,"

Seraphine stared at him.

"You think the person who sent that message knows where she is?"

"I think that whoever sent it wants me to find her,"

"That could be a trap,"

"It probably is,"

Kaelen walked towards the exit.

"Then why are you doing this?"

Kaelen turned to face her.

"Because I spent seven years being afraid of what I didn't remember,"

His expression hardened,

"And I'm done being afraid of it,"

The drive only took twenty more minutes. Elena's old residence was situated in an upscale neighborhood near the river. The mansion was heavily rundown, weeds creeping up the driveway.

Kaelen ran his fingers over the gate.

"This was home?"

Seraphine nodded. "You lived here,"

The gate opened easily, the lock recently broken. Kaelen stepped inside, the floorboards still dusted from disuse.

A child's toy lay under a stairwell as Kaelen crouched down. A tiny red airplane. A wave of memory crashed over him.

The giggles of a five-year-old chasing him down the hallway. Little hands grabbing at his pant legs.

"Daddy!"

Kaelen caught him, rocking the little boy back and forth. Elena stood nearby, a fond smile on her face.

"You promised you'd be home before dinner,"

"I know,"

"You always say that,"

Kaelen smiled, "I'll make it up to you,"

The memory faded, leaving him kneeling on the floor.

"Adrian,"

Seraphine's expression softened.

"You remember him?"

"My son,"

He ran his fingers over the toy.

"Where is he?"

"I don't know,"

Kaelen stood up.

"Someone does,"

He scanned the room, then paused at a picture hanging crookedly on the wall. A family portrait. His family.

But there was a second photograph hidden behind it. Kaelen carefully pulled it down.

A note was taped to the wall.

His handwriting.

If I ever return, check beneath the third floorboard in Adrian's room

Kaelen looked over his shoulder at Seraphine.

"Someone wanted me to find this,"

They hurried upstairs to what must have been Adrian's room. Layers of dust coated the floorboards. Kaelen counted to three, lifting the third board to reveal a small metal box.

His hands shook as he opened it, revealing a key, a tiny flash drive, and an envelope bearing his name.

KAELEN - OPEN ONLY IF YOU SURVIVE

Kaelen carefully opened the envelope. A photograph of him and Darius Vale fell onto the floor. Both men were smiling.

You were right not to trust him .

Kaelen's eyes narrowed as he studied the image. But something beneath the words made his blood run cold.

Another line of text on the back, hastily scrawled.

But you were wrong about who betrayed you

Seraphine's hand was on her weapon as she leaned in.

"What does that mean?"

Kaelen stared at the photograph, focusing on the ring on Darius's finger. He remembered that ring.

It had been on the night of his assassination, but Darius wasn't the only one with one.

"Who else belonged to the Sovereign Circle?" Kaelen asked.

Seraphine frowned.

"Politicians, warlords, that's who."

"No,"

Kaelen held the picture up to the light,

"Who else wore this?"Seraphine's face went pale.

"That's impossible,"

"What's impossible?" He turned to face her.

"That ring belonged to your father,"

Kaelen's heart pounded. "My father died before I became president,"

He looked back at the image, his father's ring on the finger of his friend Darius Vale.

Footsteps echoed from the floor below.

Seraphine tensed beside him, her pistol drawn. Kaelen carefully tucked the photograph into his pocket.

A door slammed somewhere downstairs. Both of them froze. Then, from the far end of the hallway, Kaelen heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in a lock.

Seraphine's hand shook as she aimed her weapon.

"Kaelen!" His name was barely out of her lips before the man on the second floor turned the corner.

For a long moment, no one moved. Then, to Kaelen's surprise, the stranger raised his hands.

"I've been waiting seven years to see if you'd remember,"

Kaelen's eyes narrowed.

"Remember what?"

The stranger smiled sadly,

"That you weren't your target that night,"

Kaelen's grip tightened on his rifle,

"Then who was?"

The smile vanished.

"Your son,"

The weight of the words slammed into Kaelen.

"What are you talking about?" His voice was barely more than a whisper.

The man's expression didn't change,

"They found Adrian first,"

A gun shot sounded from behind them. Kaelen spun around, eyes locked on the front door.

Empty. He turned back to the stranger.

"Who are you?"

The man's mouth curled into a grim smile.

"My name doesn't matter, but I believe you know me,"

Kaelen's breath came faster.

"You were in the warehouse with me the night of my assassination,"

The stranger chuckled.

"But I was never your friend,"

The smile vanished, revealing something close to hatred etched into his face.

"You should have died that day,"

Kaelen's hand tightened around the rifle, but before he could raise it, the stranger stepped closer.

"You took something that belongs to me,"

Kaelen's heart pounded.

"What are you talking about?"

The man's expression darkened.

"Your son,"

A loud crash echoed from the street. Both men turned to see a group of armed soldiers surrounding the mansion.

"Get down," Seraphine whispered.

Kaelen dropped to floor as the front door was blasted inward. Moments later, Kaelen heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter landing in the courtyard.

Seraphine's lips moved silently to the words of a prayer as the doors to the study burst open.

The stranger stepped into the room, a woman at his side. Kaelen's breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on a familiar pair of dark hair curling at the ends.

Elena.

His wife.

Kaelen stared in disbelief as the woman knelt before him. Her hands searched the floor until they found his own.

"Please, Kaelen," she whispered, "Don't let him hurt Adrian,"

Kaelen's mind reeled. Elena was alive! But then the woman's eyes moved past him, locking onto something behind him.

"You're too late," the stranger said. "He's already gone,"

A sudden wave of dizziness overcame Kaelen as he turned to see what the woman saw. A man in a business suit stood in the doorway, cradling a crying child in his arms.

Adrian.

Kaelen turned back to Elena, his voice shaking,

"Where is he?"

She kissed his palm.

"He's with God,"

Kaelen's heart shattered as the man in the suit slowly pulled a small object from his jacket. Something silver, something familiar.

Kaelen's breath caught in his throat.

His son's ring.