Guardian Program Ch 32

Note: Tags are for the book and not individual chapters.

Guardian Program Ch. 32

A novel by R.C.PeterGabriel, all rights reserved.

I explained to Sam my lack of discoveries, and that I was about to move on to her meeting. She leaned over and put her hand on my knee. "You don't need to watch it. It was three hours long and will only upset you. But I did enjoy being bitchy at the end."

I raised an eyebrow. "You were 'bitchy' with your bosses?"

She looked embarrassed and started playing with her fingers. "I'm sorry Sir, but I'm your submissive, not theirs," she reminded me, then looked coy and added, "You could spank me for acting out if you wish."

I had to chuckle. "Maybe I should see exactly how 'bitchy' you were?" I pulled up the meeting and asked Hal whether any of the prior search words except for 'Smith', or 'Poison' were used during the meeting. He stated that none had been, so I fast-forwarded to the last ten minutes.

The first five minutes I watched were enough to be feeling angry at almost the entire group and very protective of Sam. I could tell she was upset at the tactless way they were talking to her. Finally, the moment came when she had had enough and boldly took Brennen down a dozen notches or so.

"Well played," I observed, and watched as her image left the room. "Now let's see how they felt about your little outburst."

I smiled as Henderson laid into all of them the moment the door closed. "I really like this guy," I noted and glanced at Sam, who was sitting up a little straighter after having provoked so strong a response.

"Pause," Sam ordered, right after General Anderton called her handler 'Jack'. I looked back at her and waited to find out what she had noticed. Her eyes were flicking back and forth between the monitor and my face, and I could see the wheels turning.

"You knew. Didn't you?"

"Knew what, Baby?" I asked, trying to look inquisitive.

"Robert, you knew my handler's name wasn't Jim, didn't you?"

I sighed. I knew the time would come when some situation would make it too dangerous for her to return to work. The situation with Jessie and Toni was critically close to that point, but her discovery had pushed her over the line.

"Yes," I stated simply, then paused for a moment to decide how to proceed. "Your handler's name is Jack Henderson, not Jim Iverhouse. I'm sure you can also recall when I discovered it. We were in the Underdark, and you deduced who I needed to check up on. I did a comprehensive check of his activities and contacts. I found that with the one exception, he seemed to be an honest person.

"However, I think it's time you went to work for me instead of the NSA. I don't want you going back to Washington, just so you can get grilled again, or worse, kidnapped. I want you by my side, twenty-four seven until we're all safe again.

"Okay," Sam agreed with a smile. "Consider my talents exclusively yours. Although my former job of finding all of you, is something I know in my soul, is not something I can give up. Even though you've told me to quit, I'll technically have to refuse. I'm sorry to disobey you, Sir."

"Wow, married one day, and you're already breaking your vow. I guess I'll have to devise a suitable punishment for your contemptuous behavior. Perhaps forcing you into sub-space for an indeterminate number of hours."

She looked frightened and reverted to English with an exaggerated southern drawl. "Oh, please Sir, not that! The briar patch would simply be too cruel!"

I was forced to laugh, even with the serious task at hand. "We should get back to work. I look forward to your punishment, but it has to wait." I turned back to the monitor. "Play."

Deckard with McKinney in tow left next without a word. James left several moments later, with the implication that he was going back to work. Varrientos pushed for convincing Lieber to move on me but didn't seem to have an agenda. Even so, I put him on my list of suspects. He left ignoring Anderton's invitation to eat. Anderton left by himself, just shy of ten minutes after Sam had.

"It looks like we have six suspects," I surmised.

"No," disagreed Sam. "We have far more than that. You only looked at four, and only alibied them for the time between the last two meetings. You haven't alibied them for the remainder of the time. This could have been planned before Jessie's concert, contingent on the results of your actions. And like you pointed out on the yacht, it may not even be the government that set this up.

"Robert, the Guardian Program is fantastic for looking at a crime scene and rewinding until you have the guilty party red-handed. It isn't going to provide quick results trying to use it the way we are now. We either get lucky or we have to rely on genuine detective work."

"So ... what, we stop looking? I can't, just not do anything! ... I have to find them!" The last was whispered due to the lump in my throat.

"No, but look at yourself. You're laughing one moment and on the verge of tears the next. You have to stop reacting."

"I..." I started to tell her that I couldn't, but I realized that it would be defeatist and counterproductive, so I closed my eyes and did some deep breathing. I offered up a short prayer, requesting strength. When I opened my eyes, Sam was patiently watching me. Her smile told me she knew I had managed to calm myself.

"Am I that expressive, or can you read my mind?"

Sam's smile and eyes both brightened. "You'll have to order me to confess that little secret, Dear Husband," she replied teasingly. After a few moments, she continued.

"I'm joking, of course. I can't read your mind, but I don't think your face is overly expressive either. I just seem to know what you're feeling. Some would call it empathy. I just think it's because I know you."

"In that case, what am I feeling?" I asked.

Her smile slid a little sideways. "That your calm is slipping and you feel a need to get back to work. You're allowing your anxiety to control you."

"I'm sorry Sam, I can't help it. Come sit on my lap, maybe if we can touch ..."

She slid off the couch and into my lap. It felt good but it wasn't enough. I told her to lean forward and raise her arms, then pulled her shirt off over her head. She stayed in that position while I pulled my own shirt off, and then I slid my left arm around her waist and pulled her back against my bare chest. As our skin came together, I felt a large portion of my anxiety simply drain away.

"That helps. You can lower your arms." She did and hugged my arm against her stomach while I suggested she name someone to start with.

"I have no idea. It's a crap shoot, just go in order of when they left."

Since I didn't have a better idea, I rewound until Henderson walked out of the meeting. "Hal, mark the location and timestamp as point 'A'. Center the file on Henderson and follow." We watched as he turned in the direction of the exit, and walked with what seemed to be 'angry' steps. "Hal, fast forward until the subject uses any technology, or speaks."

Reaching the parking lot, he retrieved his phone without breaking stride and called his wife. He explained that he was headed home and that his boss be damned if he tried to call him again the rest of the weekend. I smiled to myself, and had Hal fast forward again, using the same parameters to return to play mode. Henderson continued to his car, passed security without ceremony, and spoke only once the rest of the journey home.

The word 'Moron' was used in reference to a guy that was head-banging to his radio that was up so loud it could be heard with both cars' windows up. He also felt it necessary to pass using the emergency lane. A smirk briefly crossed Henderson's lips when two blocks later the guy was pulled over.

Upon arriving home, he was greeted at the door by his wife, who kissed him and said dinner would be ready in fifteen minutes. He turned left into his home office, opened the center drawer to his desk, plugged in his phone, and locked it and his ID inside. He went upstairs, changed into sweats, and came back down. "What can I do to help," he asked. At which time I told Hal to mark the file as 'Henderson-one', and had him reorient on location 'A'.

"I don't think he's our man. Play." Brennen and McKinney were next out the door. "Center file on Brennen and follow."

Sam shifted slightly then turned and raised her head so that she could see me over her shoulder. I glanced down and lost myself in her eyes. A few minutes later, I pulled back from the kiss I didn't remember starting. I slowly pulled my hand from her breast and slid it back down to her stomach.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I couldn't help it." I just closed my eyes and savored the memory of her lips on mine.

When I opened my eyes, I realized that Brennen and McKinney had split up.

"Hal, restart at location 'A'." We watched as the two men walked down the busy corridor. Neither one seemed at all interested in anyone around them. They walked past two dozen individuals and twice as many groups of people until they reached a break in the traffic.

Both men instinctively checked their surroundings for listeners, stopped, and turned to face each other. Sam and I both sat up a bit straighter, sensing something of interest about to happen.

"This is getting ridiculous," stated Brennen. "We need to act I'm not waiting for Lieber. Do you remember the action taken in India, two years ago?"

McKinney nodded. "You're referring to Hengora's son?"

"Don't say another word McKinney, I want action taken and that operation seemed to make just the kind of statement we need. You might look into it for me." With that, Brennen turned and continued on his way, leaving McKinney staring after him.

I heard Sam whisper "No!" at the same time I shouted, "That Son-of-a-Bitch!" I stood taking Sam with me. I set her on her feet and started pacing, but I hadn't made the conscious decision to do so.

I was livid. Consumed with pure hatred. Deckard would die in pain! "Hal, target John Deckard. Enact protocol six ..."

Sam screamed. "NO! Red, Red, Red, RED!" When I spun on her, she dropped to the deck. Her knees, forearms, and forehead, were all touching the carpet. "Robert, PLEASE don't!"

If she hadn't dropped to the floor, I would have backhanded her for interrupting my rage. I was left towering over her, panting through gritted teeth, every muscle in my body clinched to the point of cramps.

She had used her safeword. I became lost in a struggle between wanting to kill a man, and my conditioned need to stop all activity, because of the utterance of that one little word ... red.

Not having any other outlet for my rage, I released a primal scream. I saw in my mind, an image of the plane's windows exploding outward from the force of it.

When what seemed to have been the last molecule of air left my lungs, I dropped to my knees, tasting blood. My head felt as if it had been split with an axe. I could do nothing except pant. I knew no thoughts except confusion. Why had she done that to me? Deckard deserved to die! He is a blight on humanity, a parasite.

It was several minutes before I could speak, and when I did, it came out a hoarse whisper. "Why? Why did you safeword?"

Instead of answering me, Sam asked if she could look at me. Her response only served to transfer some of my anger to her. I even had a brief moment of wondering if she was involved. After staring at her posture for several moments, and finally recognizing it as supplication, I allowed her request.

She slowly rose to a kneeling position and started to study my face. I didn't want to meet her eyes, because I was afraid she would see just how hurt and angry I was.

"Please, look at me," she requested.

I couldn't hold back anymore. I did something that I will regret for the rest of my life. I looked into her eyes. Her beautiful, perfect, loving, turquoise eyes, and let her see that at that moment, I hated her for stopping me.

She flinched but held eye contact, and let a single tear fall. Her whispered response came a few moments later. "I did it because I was afraid."

Pausing because I gave her a bewildered look, she let a few heartbeats pass before she continued. "I was afraid I was about to lose you. Killing Mr. Deckard would have destroyed everything you stand for, destroyed who you are. Robert, I ... I love you. I couldn't, not stop you."

If she had slapped me, she wouldn't have surprised me more. She had done it for me. The anger I had felt for her slid from me like water from a duck. "I'm sorry Sam. Thank you, for saving me. I'm grateful you stopped me, but regret having projected my anger onto you. You didn't deserve it. Will you please forgive me?"

"May I touch you?" she asked. When I nodded she walked forward on her knees, until we were about a foot apart, then laid her hand over my heart. I felt that missing part of me slip back into place.

"Nothing to forgive, Dear Husband."

"Maybe," I solemnly began. "You should be the one to spank me, for acting out."

She curled her lip and started shaking her head. "Robert, that would be ... weird. Please don't ever ask me to do that."

"Okay," I said pulling her against me. I briefly enjoyed the feel of her breasts pressed into my abs, while I hugged her head against my chest. "I guess I can make that promise." I kissed the top of her head.

"Hal, place a Bridge Security icon in the center of whatever device the Secretary of Defense uses next. When he activates it, play the file from five minutes before point 'A' to the point where Deckard and McKinney part company. Mark that as Deckard-one.

"When Lieber is finished watching the file, inform him that in my opinion, not only had Mr. Deckard violated his contract with the Guardian Program, and therefore has forfeited; his life, pay, and all program assets, he has disobeyed a direct order from the Secretary of Defense. He has authorized the violation of constitutional rights and freedoms of American citizens on U.S. soil and has created a situation causing a direct crisis of national security. I believe the term for that is 'treason'. Inform Mr. Lieber, that I expect Mr. Deckard's immediate removal from office, the most comprehensive punishments the law allows, and the understanding that I retain my rights under contract to exercise punishment, should he be unable to or refuse to take care of the situation."

I glanced down at Sam, who smiled up at me saying, "A much better solution I believe."

"Time to continue it would seem. I guess we follow McKinney," I stated while scooping Sam up in my arms. I took the two steps required to return to my seat and sat down with her in my lap. Only this time she was shoulder to my chest, with her lower legs lying across the table.

"Hal, center file on Allen McKinney and follow. Play from point 'Deckard-one'."

McKinney stood watching the back of Director Deckard, as he moved off and turned down a side corridor. After several moments, McKinney shook his head, turned, and started walking with purpose. He took the second set of elevators he came to and ascended one floor. Striding from the elevator, he again moved with purpose and several minutes hike later, he came to the entrance to the offices of the Secretary of Defense.

McKinney stopped a dozen feet from the door and stood there for almost a minute until a CID Special Agent, asked if she could help him. He pondered the question for another half minute until again prompted by the guard, he replied with a 'No, thank you. I just realized I need to check some facts before bringing my issue to the SECDEF.'

Turning, he began hiking off in another direction altogether.

Sam and I exchanged a glance and a shrug. "Hal, fast forward." McKinney raced along several corridors descended two floors, exited the building, and proceeded to his car. A fifteen-minute drive later found our subject at his office building, where he proceeded to his office.

"Play," I instructed, then watched as he sat at his desk, turned on his computer, and began to type.

Mr. Smith,

I have a strong suspicion that you can see everything I do.

Therefore you already know what Director Deckard asked me to do. I am not about to carry out that order. I will act as if I have started the process, to stall him. I was going to report him but decided since there would be no kidnapping, there wouldn't be a need to cause problems, especially since you would be the only one with proof.

Please call if you have concerns or instructions. The way I see it, I work for you since I'm Guardian Program.

Allen McKinney.

After staring at the message for several moments, he deleted it, switched off his computer, and walked from the office.

"Merda!"

Sam looked at me. "That wasn't French, Robert. I'm guessing you just cussed."

I stood, turned, placed Sam in the newly vacated seat, and started to pace. After a few moments, I realized she had spoken. "Yes, sorry. I said 'shit'."

"Why?" Sam asked while watching me pace. "I'd think you'd be happy about McKinney's message."

I stopped and glanced between the screen and my wife's inquisitive expression.

"I would be if I were doing a loyalty check, but I'm not. I'm trying to find Toni and Jessie. We've hit another dead end! Every second I haven't found them is a second they may not have!"

Sam spoke into the air. "Hal, show our location relative to Poison, and indicate ETA with a countdown clock please."

We both looked at the monitor and saw that we had already crossed into Montana from North Dakota. We should be on the ground in twenty-one minutes and ten seconds.

"Sweetheart, we only have a few minutes, and it's been over five hours since we ate last. Why don't I make us another shake and I'll give you a foot massage until we land? You can de-stress and think about your next move all at the same time."

I paced for a few more laps, trying to find a flaw in her plan. Not finding one, I nodded and moved to the galley.

"I'll make them. You shouldn't have to do all the work." Mixing the shakes isn't exactly work, but I wanted something to do. I needed to run, or spar, or engage in some other strenuous activity like rugby.

Getting a foot massage isn't exactly work either, but Sam was right, it might help me de-stress. I made one tall glass and chugged my half, before handing the rest to Sam. I paced until she drank her half, then lounged on the couch the same way I did the first day I met her. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes.

I didn't fall asleep, but the massage felt so good that the time flew by. It didn't seem as though more than two or three minutes had passed before we were on the ground.

End of chapter 32. I hope you enjoyed it and all of my work.

Please Vote, Follow, and Favorite.