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Voice in the Wilderness (Against All Enemies) (Volume 1)

By H. L. Wegley

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Chapter 1
Washington, DC, 10:00 p.m. the National Mall

UR being set up. Watch your back, PL. More later. B.
The text message sent a shiver through KC Banning despite the warm, late June evening. Secret Service Agent Belino had probably risked his career to warn her, but what kind of set up was the young marine in the West Wing implying? Set up to be fired or—no one would kill her for what she had done … would they?
PL, pretty lady. Despite her angst, his flirtatious acronym almost made her smile.
KC closed her cell, dropped it into her shorts pocket, and glanced behind to see if anyone was following her. No one.
She hurried down the path between two rows of dim walkway lights, lining the wall of the Vietnam War Memorial.
Soon, the lights ended and the overhanging trees turned her surroundings nearly black.
The crunch of footsteps came through the trees on her right.
KC whirled toward the sound.
Two shadowy figures popped out from behind a large bush and walked away toward the east end of the mall.
She released her breath in a sharp blast.
Only a young couple, with arms intertwined. She had interrupted their romantic interlude.
KC continued down the walkway but stopped when she reached the paved circle drive. To her left, the Lincoln Memorial glowed like a lantern as its light reached out into the surrounding darkness.
The senator said to meet him inside the Lincoln Memorial at 10:00 p.m. in the Second Inaugural Address chamber. And he’d emphasized that they shouldn’t be seen together. For his sake or hers? After reading the text message, maybe for both.
Most of the tourists out tonight had headed toward the African jazz concert near the east end of the mall, leaving the memorial nearly deserted. When KC strode ahead, the lights in front of the temple-like structure seemed to expose her like a spotlight hitting a performer on a stage. The sense of vulnerability sent her trotting up the steps to the protection of the memorial’s walls.
Inside the large chamber, two women stood in soft conversation beneath Lincoln’s left knee.
Time to play the role of a tourist, pretending to be transfixed by the magnificent sculpture. That wasn’t difficult. Even with her apprehension, how could she not be awestruck by this statue of the great man?
KC looked up and studied Lincoln's face. His eyes held a sad, pensive look, an expression that would be sadder still if he had suspected a man like Abe Hannan would someday hold the highest office in the land.
Would KC's life end like Lincoln’s, with a bullet through the back of her head?
Something moved on her right. KC spun toward it.
A bald head ringed with silver hair stuck out from behind one of the large pillars. Senator Richards.
She released the breath she’d been holding. Maybe the senator’s answers would end her role in this drama that had intensified from mysterious to threatening over the past several hours.
He motioned toward the back wall of the chamber where spot lighting illumined the inaugural address engraved on the wall.
KC walked into the chamber and headed toward the figure of an eagle, where the senator had stopped beside the stone bench lining the wall. She read the six words directly above Senator Richards’s head, “… for the widow and his orphan …”
Orphan … that would be KC.
When she stopped near him, the smile that normally appeared when she visited the senator’s office had been replaced by pursed, pale lips.
“KC, you called my office several times and left four messages. You shouldn’t do that. It’s a dead giveaway that you’re raising sensitive issues.” His steel-blue eyes pierced her with an icy stare.
What was that about? She was the one with the upsetting news. “Senator, I didn’t reveal anything about—”
“Just don’t do it again.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. But, I think my phones are being monitored. And there are other suspicious things happening.”
Suspicious? That was putting it mildly. “Senator Richards … you’ve helped me so much since my parents died but, tonight, I really need your help.”
“What’s the Defense Information Systems Agency up to now?”
“It’s not DISA. It’s Hannan. He may be targeting me.”
“The president targeting you? He wouldn’t have you fired, unless the man’s an idiot. Sometimes I wonder about—what does your supervisor, Major Grieve, say?”
“Sir, I think POTUS might have more than firing in mind. Maybe … eliminating.”
“That’s absurd. What could you have possibly done to—no. Even Hannan, scoundrel that he is, doesn’t go around murdering people.”
“But he does tap into the classified networks in the DUCC … from his private study.”
“And how would a DISA recruit, fresh out of school, know that? Besides, you work under the West Wing, not in it.”
How would she know? The back of her neck grew hot, the precursor to an eruption. “I’m twenty-one. And, if you’ll recall, I graduated top of my class with a masters from MIT, and hired in well above starting grade. You ought to know, senator. You helped me get the job.” KC’s red hair and temper were getting the better of her. She needed to keep it down. Senator Richards had always seemed like a kind, friendly man. She’d never seen him so agitated and hostile.
He stepped close to KC. The blue bags under his eyes, and deeper wrinkles at their corners, made him look like he’d aged several years since she saw him last month. The senator lowered his voice. “You need to tell me what led to your suspicions.”
“That’s what I was trying to do.” She took a calming breath and tried to speak more softly. “Last night, while I was monitoring networks, we had an apparent cyberattack.”
“On the classified defense networks?” His eyebrows rose. “That’s darned near impossible.”
“That’s what I’ve always thought. Well, it turned out to be an exercise, or so I was told by Major Grieve. I trapped the malicious data packets and checked out the network configuration of the impacted subnet to see if we were okay. That’s when I saw a new machine connected to the router.”
“So you stopped the attack. But a new machine on the classified networks … wouldn’t you have known about that? Shouldn’t it be part of standard procedures to notify your group?”
“Yes. That’s why I made the effort to identify the machine. It matched the fingerprint of the laptop in the president’s private study.”
“But that’s outside your area of responsibility. The WHCA should—”
“The White House Communications Agency is where I got the fingerprint database. A certain young man who works for them gave it to me. And don’t look at me like that. It’s not classified information.”
“You take too many risks, KC. I’ve warned you before about—”
“I know you have, sir. But I needed to know if the defense networks had been compromised. So, I went up to ground level and—”
“Don’t tell me you examined POTUS’s laptop. Young lady, you—”
“You need to listen for a moment. Hannan has a newly installed network jack hidden under the desk in his study. Plug into it and you’re on the defense networks. I tested it. But someone working below had to configure that machine into the authorized address tables or it wouldn’t have had access. That means Hannan has at least one accomplice in my group. He has classified network access, and he has the military communications software to make use of it loaded on his laptop.”
The senator frowned. “Which means?”
“It means he can communicate directly with any military organization at any level, anywhere in the world. Are you getting the picture, senator?”
His squinting eyes said he wasn’t. If he wasn’t such a good friend, she’d be screaming at him. “You’re the head of the Senate Intelligence Committee, for goodness sake.”
He recoiled from her insult. But, the wide-eyed expression on his face said the lights had come on. “POTUS must want direct control. He wants—”
“He wants to use his authority to intimidate the troops. In principle, isn’t that what Hitler did? Used authority to coerce people into doing what they might not otherwise do?”
“Does Hannan know that you—”
A tune played on KC’s cell, an incoming message. “Just a second.”
She pulled the cell from her shorts pocket, opened the message, and nearly choked.
Hannan just declared U a domestic terrorist based on the laptop incident. Says UR dangerous. He’s not talking catch. U need to disappear, ASAP. Take care, PL. B.
“He knows what I did and …” She croaked out the words through her constricted throat. “I think he means to kill me.”
“Kill you? Not even this president …” The senator’s eyes pinched hard until his bushy eyebrows touched. “Hannan …” He shook his head. “How do you know he wants to kill you?”
“That message just told me I’m now a domestic terrorist, and someone in a position to know says Hannan isn’t planning to catch me, just … eliminate me.”
“How credible is this person?”
She peered into the senator’s eyes. “He probably heard it straight from Hannan’s mouth. Look, he risked his job and probably his life to warn me. I believe him.”
The senator’s eyes softened. “I never thought this would involve you, but now it does. Don’t repeat what I’m about to tell you, KC. Do you understand?”
She nodded, but she felt like running. She didn’t want to hear any more threatening news. KC only wanted to leave this place where truth had become only what powerful people wanted it to be, while everyone else had to pay the consequences.
Richards placed his foot on the low stone bench and leaned on his knee. “My committee has launched an investigation of President Hannan’s abuses of authority and blatant violations of the constitution, an investigation that could end with his impeachment and, hopefully, removal from office.”
Ordinarily, this news would have called for a celebration. But everything ordinary had vanished with the arrival of a text message. “I love this country. That’s why I took my job with DISA. I’ll testify at the hearings, if you need me.”
The senator studied her face for a moment, as if trying to read her reaction. “Because of the investigation, I’ve received some threats. Normally, I ignore such things. But with Hannan and what you’ve just encountered ...” He shook his head. “Your testimony, as part of my investigation, increases the odds of Hannan’s removal from office. Depending on what he’s done, maybe it will send him to prison. But you have to be alive to testify. If he’s caught wind of—I don’t know how to say this any other way.” The senator pulled his foot from the bench, stepped closer to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “KC, whoever warned you is right. I think you need to take this threat seriously, very seriously.”
KC’s heart pounded out the realization of her danger. Hannan was like a venomous snake, the ones in her nightmares. That thought sent her mind back seven years to another viper, the rattlesnake coiled inches from her bare leg, the one her dearest childhood friend, Brock Daniels, had killed when he saved her life.
At this moment, she would give nearly anything to have Brock standing beside her with his arm draped over her shoulders. Thoughts of him didn’t come as often now, but when they came, they completely consumed her.
“… hide, understand, KC?”
She needed to focus. She’d missed part of what Richards had said. “You think I need to run and hide, don’t you?”
“Do you know a place to hide where no one can find you?”
“I … I think so. But it’s 2,300 miles away.”
“The farther away the better. Now, here’s what you need to do.”
Over the next ten minutes, Senator Richards told her how to escape the Beltway and gave KC instructions for traveling so that detection was unlikely. His directions about getting new identification and avoiding video were detailed. What all did they discuss in intelligence committee meetings … covert operators?
When he finished, KC’s mind was a slurry of pureed thoughts. His advice went in but, with panic now pounding in her chest, could she pull anything meaningful from the mixture?
“Don’t go back to your apartment, not for any reason. They’ll be watching it. Is there someplace you can spend the night?”
“Yes. I can go to—”
“Don’t tell me where. Just get there like I told you. Withdraw as much cash as you can and leave on the heels of the commute tomorrow. Got it?”
“I think so.”
“Buy a cheap, disposable cell phone and call me when you see the message about the hearing on my senate web page. I’ll be praying for you, KC.”
“Thanks.” Maybe his prayers would accomplish more than hers. Sometimes, she wasn’t sure why she even bothered.
He squeezed her shoulder. “You need to go now. I’ll wait here a few minutes so no one sees us together. Take care, young lady.”
She hugged the senator. “You take care, too. And nail that rattlesnake, Hannan.”
KC turned and strode into the main chamber of the memorial. It was empty.
Music from the concert played in the distance.
She looked down the steps, surveying the lighted area in front of the memorial. The tourists had all left. KC scurried down the steps and ran into the darkness to her left, toward the Rock Creek Trail.
A loud crack sounded behind her. It resonated in the Lincoln Memorial’s chambers, jolting KC with its sound and significance. Someone had fired a gun inside the memorial.
She leapt to her left and hid behind a bush. KC looked back at the entrance, trying to slow her panting to normal breathing.
A dark-clad figure exited the main chamber and ran to the south, away from KC, jumped down to the grass, and then leaped the remaining ten or fifteen feet down into the bushes and trees on the far side of the memorial.
Had that person seen her while she was inside the memorial? If so, the shooter could have killed them both. Did that mean she wasn’t a target? No. Only that she wasn’t this killer’s target at this time.
Tears trickled down her cheek. The man who had mentored her, watched out for her for the past three years, was probably dead. It had been Senator Richards, not her, that met Lincoln’s fate tonight. But if Hannan had already sent someone after her, there was still time for KC to die before morning.
Regardless, this was not a time for tears. She wiped them away and focused on reaching a Metro station to get to her friend’s apartment.
Boarding Metro here in DC wasn’t a good idea. She might be spotted. Boarding on the Virginia side would be safer. Maybe in Rosslyn.
The Arlington Bridge was her best route to get to Rosslyn Metro Station on foot, but the shooter had disappeared near the north end of that bridge. She would take the Roosevelt Bridge, instead. Regardless, she needed to get away from the Lincoln Memorial before it became an official crime scene.
A siren sounded somewhere to the north. It grew louder, revving her heart near its red line.
Her adrenaline rush turned to explosive energy. She ran down the Rock Creek Trail and up onto the Roosevelt Bridge. As she ran the bridge, between KC’s heavy breaths and the occasional noise of a passing car, from somewhere behind her, sounds reached her ears … the cadence of running feet.
The sounds grew louder.
If the running feet caught her, KC’s evidence would die with her.
Then Hannan wins and America dies.
It couldn’t end like that. She wouldn’t let it.
KC broke into an all-out sprint.
Only 2,300 miles to go.

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