THE LAST ARK

CHAPTER 19: AIR JACK

Jenn Scott Home, Reston Four Days Before Temple Ceremony

The chime of Jenn’s cell phone startles her from a terrible dream of losing the admiral under a massive wave. A blurry glance at the ID reads Matt Adelson, likely with news of the house. Her stomach muscles tighten with unease as she accepts the call. “Hello?” “Morning, Lieutenant,” Matt greets her on the formal side, probably calling from his office. “I’m sorry to call you so early, but we confirmed the toxin as Novichok, the same as your father, and Navalny,” he conveys. “The team isolated the agent to the couch, with only trace amounts in the safe room, kitchen, and bedroom. We’ve disposed of the couch, ripped out the carpets, and sent in a cleaning crew. The house should be safe by tomorrow.” T h e admiral rarely used the living room, so the agent could have been there for several months or maybe even since his journal entry. Not unexpected, but the news confi rms that whoever killed her father got inside the house. She’ll change the locks and install high-end security cameras. Now that they have a theory on motive, and how, the question remains who? “What about the journals?” she asks. “We had to confiscate your father’s journal and computers until we complete the investigation. Your mother’s journals also contained communications we believe were from the SLVIA. Once cleared of anything classified, I can release them.” Jenn should have expected that response as well. She changes the subject. “Have you heard from Agent Rhodes?” Mention of him yesterday brought back memories of him last night. Matt hesitates. “No, but the Saudis agreed to send all three agents to Israel. We expect to hear confirmation once they land. Unfortunately, the kingdom has granted the FPOTUS temporary asylum, claiming he provides a vital role within a reinvigorated peace deal.” “Disappointing that the most powerful nation on earth can’t prosecute a corrupt leader without the world making us look like the villains,” she retorts. Although, to most of his followers, the criminal investigations themselves are political, criminal, and corrupt. Right-wing media tries to portray a witch hunt, conducted by a weak president, determined to keep his opponent from running again. Jenn still can’t get used to the post-truth age. The admiral would say dangerous actions have dire consequences. To avoid the consequences, act with honor. “Funny you should say that; Putin has already put out a public statement to that effect, calling America’s treatment reminiscent of Stalin-era purges. Remember, the former president is not just any citizen who skipped trial,” Matt reminds her. “He still represents our nation, and the moment we treat him like a third-world criminal, then the United States will look weaker.” “But to do nothing allows him to play the victim for the entire planet,” she retorts. “I’m aware of the consequences,” Matt reminds her. “Neither democracy nor freedom comes cheap.” Matt’s right, and every US officer understands the necessity of sacrifice. She lets it go. “Thanks for the update.” Jenn hangs up feeling distressed, convinced the Kremlin had the admiral silenced. They failed. The admiral raised the alert and paid the ultimate price for his integrity. If Geoff Rhodes remains the same bull-headed screw-the-rules renegade he was back at Annapolis, then he won’t take the legacy of losing a former president easily. Jenn can imagine him looking for a way to bring the FPOTUS back to US soil, even if that soil is only an embassy. If she can find and help Geoff, maybe she can confront the former president. Jenn’s first challenge is traveling to Israel without leaving an airline ticket trail. It would be better if Matt Adelson wasn’t aware of her plan. Fortunately, Jenn made friends with a pilot who graciously offered to help whenever she needed it. Jenn gets up to turn on the shower and throw a travel bag on the bed. Time to call in a favor. * Tote Luxury Charter, Reagan International, DC T hree Days Before Temple Ceremony Jenn looks up to the private hangar door at Reagan International. Tote Luxury Charter. With no appointment, she feels fortunate to find both Jack Tote and the Gulfstream V gifted to Jack from Taylor inside the hangar. With his back toward her, Jack points toward the engine as he discusses something with the mechanic. “Good morning, Captain Tote. I was wondering if you were in the mood for f lapjacks.” She announces loud enough to interrupt and subtly mention their mutual friend. Tote spins around. “Lieutenant Jennifer Scott, what a wonderful surprise.” T he lean pilot with jet-black crewcut hair, dark eyes, and crooked smile bounds over to give her a warm hug. “Not lieutenant anymore; I resigned,” she clarifies. “Ah pucky. Once an officer, always an officer.” Jack pulls back to look into her eyes. “Flapjacks, eh? Yeah, you bet, I know a place nearby.” He gives her a knowing wink. With a turn back to the mechanic, Jack excuses himself. “Hey Greg, I’m going to take an old client to breakfast. Have her fueled by the time I get back. I have a feeling we’ll be heading off someplace in a hurry.” Jenn smiles, knowing how many years Jack supported Derek Taylor before her investigation forced Taylor underground. Ironically, she’s hoping some of that loyalty will spill over to her. * Barley Mac Diner, outside Reagan Airport T hree Days Before Temple Ceremony “I heard about the admiral,” Jack says after they find a booth at the small American-style diner. “He was very well-respected, you know, except for those who wanted to curse his mama. And just for the record, they were often the same people.” Jack grins. “I’ll say this: the old shark did a hell of a job raising an amazing daughter.” Jenn bows her head to absorb the compliment, but she isn’t sure how to respond. How someone got inside the family home to murder a great man still consumes her thoughts. Jack studies her face carefully. “You, OK?” Jenn takes a deep breath, knowing that she needs to be completely honest with Jack if she expects his help. “Jack, the Kremlin murdered the admiral with Novichok,” she blurts out the news as the server steps up to their booth. Jack stares at her for a second, then turns to the young girl, who looks terrified. “Two coffees, two number four breakfasts over easy, a lot of privacy, and a tight lip if you want a good tip.” The server opens her eyes wide and nods her head quickly before she scurries away. Jack turns back. “Are you sure about this?” “Adelson told me himself,” she replies. “The admiral kept a journal. The SLVIA gave him evidence the FPOTUS knew of a national ID leak before he approved the platform.” “Holy Mary, Mother of God,” mumbles Jack, a non-practicing Catholic. “Does Taylor know? I’m sure he’d want to help.” “I kind of pushed him away.” Jenn lowers her eyes. “Failure to arrest him when I had the chance cost me a reputation and a naval career. I may have gotten resentful with him in the last few texts.” T he server returns with their coffee and just as quickly sprints away. “Oh yeah,” Jack nods, drowning his coffee with cream. “I worked with Taylor for a decade, and while he acts like a ginormous, arrogant, cocksure wienie, inside he’s like a hyper-sensitive little snowflake, dweeb, sissy-pants. Don’t worry, he’ll get over it.” Jenn can’t help but chuckle at the description. “Well, if he ever texts me again, I suppose I should apologize.” It genuinely hurts to admit, given Taylor’s deceptions. A text from Taylor never includes a return name or number and always disappears from her phone. She has no way of contacting him-for his safety and her frustration. Without trust, they have nothing. T he server hurries back with the eggs before she scurries away. Jack douses his eggs with Tabasco. “Look, I’ve got to be honest with you. I’m with Taylor on this one,” he mumbles, barely chewing his food before he practically inhales it. “I mean, the guy lost everything to stop that Chinese AI virus last year while the Feds fiddled and sent you to bust him. He went out of his way to keep you from getting involved or hurt. I get it. You had a job to do. He doesn’t blame you, and neither do I, but I can only feel so much sympathy. T hat said, how can I help?” Jack is right; both she and Taylor suffered from her investigation. Perhaps even worse, she’s allowed herself to slump into a pity party, which the admiral would never tolerate. Jenn takes a bite, chews to think, and lays down her fork to talk. “They sent the Secret Service agents assigned to FPOTUS to Tel Aviv. I want to meet with one of them.” Jenn reveals only part of the plan, in part because the plan still forms. “Why would Secret Service be in Israel?” Jack asks, taking a sip of his coffee to wash down the plate of eggs he just inhaled. His other hand pulls over a plate of pancakes just delivered. Jenn leans across the table to whisper. “Because FPOTUS has taken asylum in Saudi Arabia.” Jack coughs and spits his coffee into his napkin. “Arabia,” he exclaims, still coughing, causing more than a few heads to turn. So much for privacy. “Shout a little louder,” she scolds. “Sorry, but crap on a cracker, girl,” he apologizes as he leans over the table. “Well, you’re in luck because Taylor’s already in Israel and can help you sort this out.” “I don’t need Taylor.” Jenn pushes back, instantly wanting to know why he would be in Israel, but forcing herself to act uninterested. She certainly doesn’t need his sarcastic flap and half-truths. Her plan to confront the former president will require diplomacy. Jack looks into her eyes and slowly nods. “Yeah, sure, OK, I won’t get in between you two. When do you want to leave, as if that bag in your car isn’t an answer?” Jenn smiles, and picks up her fork to start on her own eggs, taking her time to chew. What she doesn’t say, maybe what she should say, is that working with a fugitive will complicate her struggle to convince Geoff to help. And complicate her struggle to get over Taylor. They only spent a few days together while she investigated him, so her feelings were irrational. There will always be an impassable barrier between them. He’s a fugitive, and she’s an admiral’s daughter. She’s still too vulnerable from grieving the admiral to deal with her vulnerability to Taylor. Yet, even knowing that he’ll be in Israel lifts her spirit ever so slightly.