Fifteen minutes later, we were regrouped and ready to head out.
"Turn off your phone and remove the battery." I instructed Portia. "We're going dark."
"But I need to stay in touch." she protested. "No one will be able to reach me."
"That's the point." I replied, "You need to stay alive, and in order for me to ensure that happens, you're going to have to do what I tell you. Now take the battery out and give it to me, please. The first thing anyone is going to do if they are tracking you, is to monitor your phone. I'll give you five minutes to send a message to whoever you need to, to let them know that you are both okay and will be out of touch for a while. Sophia, do have a phone too?"
She shook her head.
"No." she answered. "Mama says I can't have one until I'm twelve. I just borrow hers if I need to look something up. I mostly use a computer at home."
"Well, that's the first thing your mother and I seem to agree on." I said with a smile. "I don't think kids need to be wandering around, staring at their phones all day either. Children need to learn how to speak with their mouths; not their thumbs."
Portia handed me the battery with a frown.
"Here you go, Guy." she said. "Did you take yours out too?"
"Yes, yesterday while I was still over in Arlington." I replied. "That's where I'll put it back in as well. No one is going to be looking at my records, but in the event that they do, it will show a blank spot. There will be no proof that I was ever here. There is nothing to show that you and I ever met.
"By the way, why do you keep calling me Guy?" I inquired. "My name is Jack."
"Isn't that what you call men, here in the States?" she asked. "Like 'Man' or 'Dude?'"
"Only in the Southwest." I responded. "No one around here knows what it means."
"Oh," she said, "sorry. I thought it was kind of funny, your last name being Fawkes and all. I wasn't trying to be rude. I apologize if I insulted you."
"Guy Fawkes." I said dryly. "Do you have any idea how few people in this country know who he was, even if they recognize the name? It's a cute gesture though. I'm not offended. It makes sense now. I didn't realize you had a sense of humor."
"Before you head out," John interjected, "take this phone with you. It's untraceable and it will work almost anywhere. It also has my private cell in the contacts list, so if you run into any problems, use it and I'll send the cavalry. Think of it as your personal Red Line directly to me. I keep mine on 24/7; just like you."
I took the phone - which was similar to the analog folding contractor model that I used - and opened the contacts. I was amused to see the single name listed; "Archangel."
"Cute." I said with a smile, as I closed the phone and dropped it into my pocket. "I'll be in touch."
With that, we got into my vehicle; Portia in the passenger's seat, and Sophia in the back. Since the windows were tinted so dark that no one could see in, I saw no need for them to duck down as we exited the White House grounds.
"God be with you, Jack." John said softly, as we disappeared into DC morning traffic. "It's out of my hands now."
It took a while, but we finally crossed the Potomac River and headed west on I-66, toward the Shenandoah Valley. I retrieved my phone from the case on my belt, and grabbed the battery from the dashboard cubbyhole, where I had stashed it.
"Could you put the battery back in for me, as I'm driving?" I inquired of Portia.
She nodded and took the phone. A few moments later, she handed it back.
"Here you are." she said.
"Thanks." I responded with a smile, taking it from her and putting back into its case.
We drove in an uncomfortable silence for a while; both Portia and myself trying to come up with something to start a conversation. The scenery had changed to rolling countryside, when Portia finally broke the silence.
"So, where are we going?" she inquired, breaking the ice.
"We're going to take this road for another hour or so," I explained. "Then, we'll pick up 81 south for several hours. Then, it's all back roads into the backwoods of Appalachia."
About that time, Sophia - who been dozing in the back seat - popped her head up.
"Skyline Drive 23 miles. What is Skyline Drive, Jack?" she asked inquisitively, reading the overhead sign.
"The Skyline Drive turns into the Blue Ridge Parkway about a hundred miles or so to our left." I explained. "Together, they form the longest and thinnest national park in the world. It's a two lane road that runs along the ridge tops all the way down to Cherokee, North Carolina. It's incredibly scenic."
"Does it go where we're going?" Portia inquired.
I was surprised at her question, but nodded.
"Yes, sort of. We'll actually come back across it again, after we get off of 81." I replied. "Why?"
"Is it shorter?" she prodded, as if she perceived it as a potential shortcut.
"Well yeah, on paper," I answered, "but it's all windy, and the speed limit is only 45. I suppose if you were walking it might be shorter, but by car, it's much faster to take the interstates as much as possible. The speed limit is 70, and with these tags, I can go a lot faster than that."
"Is time an issue?" she asked politely.
I was beginning to understand where she was going with this, so I looked at her and shook my head.
"No it isn't." I admitted. "And driving at least two thirds of the trip inside the confines of a national park is probably safer than driving out on the interstate anyway, and we have all the time in the world. My job is to protect you wherever we happen to be. If you want to take the scenic route instead, that's fine with me. What do you say, Sophia? Would you like to ride along the mountaintops, and see a beautiful cavern and a famous mill along the way?"
"May we, Mama?" Sophie chattered excitedly.
"Ask Captain Jack Sparrow." Portia responded. "He's the commander of this ironclad vessel, not me."
I glanced over at her, and saw the faintest of twitches at the corners of her mouth. This time, I picked up on her dry sense of humor. It WAS Guy Fawkes after all!
"More like Captain Morgan." I said, looking over at her and giving her a shit eating grin. "I probably shouldn't have drunk that bottle of it before breakfast."
I feigned like I was swooning, and swerved a few times. To my surprise, Portia picked up on the joke and started laughing. It was nice to see her laugh. She actually had a really pretty smile, which accented her facial features. The lightheartedness quickly faded though, as the flash of red and blue LED lights in the rear view mirror caught my attention, followed by the staccato-like "BROOOOOOP!" of a quick push on the yelp button of a Whelen siren system.
I immediately applied my right turn signal and pulled to the side of the road, turning on my four ways and rolling down all of the windows to not only expose the interior, but to also mask the fact that the windows were now tinted beyond civilian limits, although the G tag (what y'all refer to as a license plate up North) negated any tinting ordinances. There was no use in drawing his attention to anything else. At least, that's how it was supposed to go. I had no clue that Barney Fife had moved to the next state over and applied with the Virginia State Police.
"What's wrong?!" Portia inquired nervously. "Are we in trouble?"
She was obviously used to other countries' police forces, including her own military police; the no-bullshit Carabinieri that you see patrolling the airports in movies wearing black BDUs and carrying MP5 submachine guns.
"No, we aren't in trouble, Mercedes." I replied. "He probably saw me swerve back there, and thinks I'm drunk. He should let me off for the tag alone, but with my ID, no worries. Keep your hands on the dash, as I have a gun in the car, and don't say anything unless I say it's okay."
