The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6) (3 page)

BOOK: The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6)
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The Humvee lurched to a stop. The driver’s door opened, but no one stepped out.

The doubt Gordon was feeling escalated. He had honored his pledge and came to this meeting with no weapons; now he wish he had something. Gordon scanned the area. The old post office was twenty yards to his left. If he had to, he could race there.

A leg swung out of the Humvee and planted on the pavement.

The rising sun in the east began to hinder Gordon. He cocked his head and squinted in anticipation of who was exiting the vehicle.

Two hands appeared followed by a voice. “I’m unarmed as agreed.”

“Me too,” Gordon replied, raising his open hands. “Come on out, Mr. President. It’s just you and me.”

Cruz emerged apprehensively from the Humvee, his hands still raised.

Gordon could see by his tense posture that he too was nervous. He looked him up and down and again put his attention to the surrounding area. Gordon wasn’t as foolish as John made him out to be. With an abundance of caution, Gordon had set this meeting and the location and made sure he had eyes on the small unincorporated area for two weeks. His team had spotted Cruz’s men coming and going, but like him, they were performing security checks and doing their due diligence. Of course, Gordon knew nothing was guaranteed, as he told John. He could be walking into a trap; however, if his plan worked, it would be worth the risk.

Cruz stepped around the open door and approached Gordon with his right hand outstretched. “Mr. President, good to see you again. I only wish we could be meeting under different circumstances,” Cruz said.

“Mr. President, I couldn’t agree more,” Gordon replied. It was odd for him to hear the title president when pertaining to himself. He wasn’t the president of the country officially; he was more the president of the council, which was the governing body of the young republic. The thought was once they were able, they’d hold free elections, and Gordon wasn’t sure if he’d be running or not for the office he now had a title for.

“I have to say, when you called me two weeks ago and proposed this unorthodox meeting I brushed it off as folly, but the more I thought about it, I came to realize the wisdom in it. We are the leaders of our opposing factions, why not just sit down and talk. Find a solution to our disagreements.”

“Again, I couldn’t agree more,” Gordon said. He pointed towards the post office and continued, “How about we get out of the cold, sit down, and chat.”

Cruz glanced over at the building, its brick façade faded from years of direct sunlight. He faced Gordon again and asked, “I can trust you?”

“I think that goes both ways, Mr. President.”

“Just call me Andrew,” Cruz happily said.

“First-name basis, I like that.” Gordon smiled. He held out his arm and said, “This way…Andrew.”

Both men walked side by side and entered the dimly lit post office, with Gordon going in first.

Cruz hesitated before stepping across the threshold.

“I promise you, I’m not here to harm you, I just want to talk. In fact you’re going to appreciate what I have to tell you.”

Cruz sheepishly grinned then stepped fully inside.

“My guys scouted this location out weeks ago, and I know yours did too. I had my guys put this table here,” Gordon said, pointing to a small four-foot-square folding card table that sat in the open lobby.

Cruz walked past Gordon and took a seat in one of the two chairs.

“I would have had them put a heater in here, but I know that would have caused a stink with your men who are providing over watch,” Gordon said, acknowledging that he knew Cruz had tactical teams to the east.

Cruz shivered and replied, “Maybe we could have come to some arrangement.”

“But I figured the fewer people who knew would be best.”

“Agreed.”

Not waiting to get to the meat of the conversation, Cruz asked, “You said in our initial call you had a gift for me?”

“I do, but first I’d like to thank you for trusting in me to even have this sit-down.”

“I know we’ve had our problems, but I found you to be a likeable and trustworthy man since we first met.”

“Likeable?” Gordon laughed. “If only my wife could hear that.”

“You’re a bit rough around the edges, but you’re an honorable man. I know you’re doing what you feel is best for your people. These have been troubling times for our nation, and only if we unite, stay together, can we weather them. Divided we face a possibility of collapse that none of us can recover from.”

“Andrew, we’ve already collapsed.”

“I refuse to believe that. We have challenges, but only if we quit does it all collapse.”

Gordon nodded.

“How can we make things right? How can we bring your people back into the fold of the United States?” Cruz asked.

“I’m not here to discuss that. In fact that’s not even on the table.”

“Why, just answer me that?”

“Our people were feeling disenfranchised by the power brokers back in DC long before the lights went out. It just took that single event to break off what was already fractured.”

“That’s not true. We’re all Americans.”

“I used to be idealistic; then I came face-to-face with politics and political correctness in a war that my country never intended on winning. I was used as a political pawn by corrupt politicians and their special interest groups, and when I wasn’t needed, I was tossed aside like garbage. The United States betrayed me and it betrayed the Cascadian people too. I’m sorry but I’m resolute. We are now a free and independent republic.”

Cruz leaned in and sighed. “Gordon, half of your army is destroyed and half of your beloved republic is occupied. We have your capital, and if I wanted to, I could crush you, I could bomb you out of existence, but you see, I don’t believe in doing that. I know deep down we can find a resolution.”

Gordon grimaced; he liked Cruz and respected him for his conviction. He spoke truth to some extent. Cascadia was on the ropes and Cruz had the leverage; however, Gordon had a trump card and was about to show him a few cards.

Again, Cruz sighed. “Why am I here? Why did you call this meeting if there isn’t anything to discuss? I can’t let those states go. I’ve made a promise to the people of the United States. I’ve sworn an oath and I will do what I have to, including forcing you to eventually bring the nation back together. I’ve been more than fair and patient, but now you’re wasting my time. I risked a lot to leave the confines and protection of Cheyenne to come meet you. I’ve lied and misled my cabinet so that I could be here and for what? I was hoping I could return with something, but it appears you’re just going to sit there and keep pushing the tired arguments.”

Gordon leaned across the table and asked, “If I were to help you with something…something critical, would you help me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about helping you by providing information that is valuable; in fact it’s priceless.”

Cruz furrowed his brow and a grin began to crease his face. “The only way you can help me is by working with me and having Cascadia rejoin the United States.”

Gordon leaned over the table and asked, “Are you carrying any form of communication?”

Cruz’s eyes widened; he was unsure how to answer.

Gordon shrugged. “Of course you are; I am.”

“Why?”

Gordon glanced at his watch. “I’m guessing that in five minutes your phone or radio will alert you to an emergency situation in Cheyenne.”

A tense look gripped Cruz’s face. “Does this have something to do with that threat you warned me about?”

“Yes, if my intel is correct, there will be an attempt on your life today in Cheyenne.”

“There are threats against me all the time.”

“But I think the source I have is telling me the truth.”

“When you called last week and warned me, I first thought why should I take a warning from you seriously, but not one to just let things go, I had the threat level raised. We investigated it, but nothing came back.”

“We shall see,” Gordon said.

A surge of paranoia took hold of Cruz; he unzipped a deep pocket on the front of his coat and pulled out a satellite phone. He looked at the display to see if he had missed any calls only to see a blank screen. “What kind of game are you playing here?”

“I’m not playing a game,” Gordon insisted.

“If what you’re saying is true, why would you help me? We’re opponents,” Cruz asked.

“Because I’ve always found you to be a reasonable man. You’re neither naïve nor an ideologue, you’re a pragmatist, and right now I need someone in your position leading the US. I can work with you; I can strike a deal with you. Conner, I couldn’t. He was hell-bent on having his way or the highway. I couldn’t trust him, but you, you I can trust. If we make a deal, I believe in my heart you’ll honor it.”

Cruz looked at his phone and pressed a button to ensure it was still powered on.

Five minutes had passed and no call.

“I know this must seem strange, but I am desperately seeking a resolution to our mutual problem,” Gordon stressed.

“That is?” Cruz asked.

“You and I aren’t much different; we both want a safe and secure place for our family and children to grow up in. We want to stop wasting our resources on fighting and put our energies towards reconstruction. I know you want that, but you also feel obligated to put the country back together. The thing is you can’t. You can’t see the forest for the trees. The country was already fractured before the lights went out; all it needed to break apart was that one single event. Almost in an instant people and regions that had their own unique culture or way of life gelled together to survive. It was a noble effort, but there is nothing you or Conner or whoever replaces you can do. You abandoned the east, leaving it to rot, cut that away; you then bunkered down and stopped resupplying, effectively leaving the rest of the country to fend for itself, and that sealed the deal. Everything in life needs attention and nurturing. When you closed the door on providing aide, you helped to sever the last parts that connected the country.”

Cruz sat and listened to Gordon’s lecture. He wasn’t off much in his assessment; in fact, he agreed with him a bit.

Gordon continued his diatribe, “The United States will never go away, but the country you knew before is gone. Take care of the area you have, make it strong; then after you’ve proven to be a union worth joining, go out and seek those who broke away, see if they’ll voluntarily come back.”

“No call,” Cruz said holding up his phone. “It’s been ten minutes, maybe more.”

Gordon looked at his watch and said, “I’m sure it’s just a delay in contacting you.”

“I’ve listened to everything you said, and I hear you, but like I said, I’ve sworn an oath. In those states not everyone is a rebel; some are still loyal. I can’t abandon them.”

“They can stay or go; it’s up to them.”

The phone rang, startling Cruz. He fumbled it in his hand then answered, “Yes.” He nodded and asked, “How bad?” He again nodded. “I’m fine, yes, I’m fine.” He looked at Gordon and said one more time, “I’m fine.”

Gordon nodded.

“No, no need to come get me; let me wrap up this meeting. Oh, did you mention I was here? You didn’t, good. Don’t; this remains a secret, no matter what,” he said before disconnecting the line. He lowered the phone to his lap, rubbing his thumb over the display screen. He chewed on his lip, his head held low, and said, “A bomb was detonated inside St. Mary’s Catholic Church. Fifty-one people were killed, maybe more; it’s hard to tell right now.”

“I told you.”

Cruz lifted his head. “I would’ve been there for Christmas Mass had you not insisted I come meet you.”

“I’m sorry,” Gordon said somberly.

“How do I know this isn’t some scheme, some sick and twisted plan of yours, and you planted the bomb?”

“It’s not.”

“You didn’t have more intel, just that an attack on my life was imminent?”

“That’s all I was told. My source says they want you gone and that this would be the first in a serious of large attacks.”

“Who is it?”

“That’s the rub, I don’t know,” Gordon answered. He truly didn’t know who had contacted him months ago and was staying in constant contact.

Cruz stood up in frustration and began pacing. “So this deal you want to make, it’s based on providing us info? And I’m assuming you have more to share.”

“I should.”

“Should?”

“What I shared today was given to me as a sign of good faith, so to speak, or more proof that they are privy to such information,” Gordon explained.

“And in exchange for sharing info like this with me, you want what?”

“I want you to pull all forces out of Olympia and western Washington. I also want you to sign a treaty that acknowledges the Republic of Cascadia as a free and independent nation.”

Cruz stopped his pacing and pivoted towards Gordon. “Tell me again how you’re not involved with what just happened? How do I know for sure?”

“I guess you don’t; all I can say is it’s not me. Attacks aren’t new to Cheyenne,” Gordon said reminding Cruz that the troubles in Cheyenne with terrorists and the resistance had occurred in the past.

BOOK: The Razor's Edge: A Postapocalytic Novel (The New World Book 6)
4.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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