The Lincoln Myth (50 page)

She’d many times done it for him.

Time to repay the favor.

Whether she wanted it or not.

S
TEPHANIE WAS ARMED
. U
NUSUAL FOR HER
. A B
ERETTA WAS
nestled in a shoulder harness beneath her coat. Surely Malone had seen that. Before leaving Blair House, Danny Daniels had taken her aside, outside of Charles Snow’s presence.

“We have no choice,” he said to her. “None at all.”

“There’s always options.”

“Not here. You realize there are a crap load of people in this country who would take secession seriously. And God knows it’s our own fault. I’ve tried for eight years to govern, and it ain’t easy, Stephanie. In fact, it might be damn well impossible. So for a state to opt out? I could understand why it might. And it doesn’t matter if the effort succeeds. The existence of that document alone is enough to jeopardize the future of this nation. Things will never be the same with it around, and I can’t allow that to happen. We’ve managed to maneuver all of our problems to one spot. So you and Luke. Handle it.”

“There’s Cotton.”

“I know. But he’s also a pro.”

“None of us is a murderer.”

“Nobody said you were.”

He gently grasped her arm. A chill shot through her
.

“This is exactly what Lincoln faced,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “He had to choose. Only difference is that, for him, the states were already seceded, so he had to fight a war to win them back. It’s no wonder every one of those war casualties took a toll on him. He, and he alone, made that call. He had to ask himself, Do I do what the founders said? Or do I ignore them? It was his choice, right? Damn straight. But America survived and became what we are today.”

“Broken?”

He stared at her with pain in his eyes. “Best damn broken system on the planet. And I’m not going to let it just dissolve away.”

“The founders of this country thought otherwise.”

“Actually, so did Lincoln.”

She waited for more
.

“He gave a speech in 1848. Edwin found it. He said that any people, anywhere, have the right to rise up, shake off their government, and form one that suits them better. He called it a valuable and sacred right. Even worse, he said that right wasn’t confined to the whole people of a government. Any portion of those people, like a state or a territory, could make their own way. The son of a bitch said, flat out, that secession was a natural right
.

“But then, thirteen years later, as president, when the time came to allow those states to go, he chose the country over states’ rights. I’m making that same call. Every president, in the twilight of his term, thinks of history. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. My legacy, Stephanie, is this. Not a soul will know, besides us, but that’s okay. Like Lincoln, I choose to save the United States of America.”

She’d listened to what Malone had said to Luke and knew the threat was directed her way, too. Malone’s nerves were frayed, his patience at an end.

But he wasn’t in charge.

“Cotton,” she said. “We’re going to do what we have to.”

Malone stopped walking and stepped close. They’d known each other a long time, been through a lot. He’d always helped her when she’d really needed it, and she’d repaid each of those favors as friends do for friends.

“Stephanie, I get it. This fight’s different. But you’re the one who roped Cassiopeia into this, and lied to keep her in it. Then you drew me in. So I’ll tell you again. Leave. Her. Alone. I’ll handle Cassiopeia. She won’t be a problem.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

Malone’s face hardened. “I’m not.”

And he walked off.

SIXTY-FOUR

C
ASSIOPEIA ADMIRED THE SWEEPING UPLAND SCENERY.
Everything seemed so peaceful and pleasant, rather than frightening and foreboding, which was far closer to the truth. They’d rounded the huge house and found a rocky trail that zigzagged upward. Scarlet bunchberry lay scattered over a thick carpet of green moss. Fir, maple, and oak trees engulfed them with a canopy, leaves falling in waves. Two deer emerged from the foliage, then meandered off, seemingly unafraid.

“We don’t allow hunting here,” Rowan said. “We’ve left it all to nature.”

She was trying to assess the senator. He was a handsome, older man with plenty of vigor. He easily handled the inclined trail, barely breaking a sweat or struggling for a breath. He carried himself like a man in charge—which, according to Josepe, fit him, as this was the second-highest-ranking official in the church. The next prophet. She’d caught the wariness in his eyes when they met. She could recall, as a child, many men in dark suits, white shirts, and thin ties coming to their house. She’d always known that her father was a church leader, and her mother had explained that the visitors were other leaders from far and wide. But those men had made her feel uncomfortable.

And now she knew why. They were followers.

Blindly plowing along on a path forged by others, hoping, along the way, to garner some favor for themselves. Never did they decide things for themselves.

Rowan and Josepe were different.

Their path was their own.

And they were nearing its end.

A ten-minute climb up the trail brought them to a black gash in the mountainside. A tin placard warned trespassers not to enter the cavern since it was private property. An iron grille barred entrance, and was secured by a padlock.

A few tugs and Rowan tested the gate.

Secure.

Then the senator motioned to Josepe, who removed his weapon and fired three rounds into the lock.

S
TEPHANIE HEARD THREE SOUNDS THROUGH THE WOODS
.

Gunshots.

Malone and Luke quickened their pace, and she followed suit. Never had she felt so distant from Cotton. But she had no choice. What she’d do once confronted with the problem, she had no idea. This was all being invented as she went along.

But one thing was absolute.

She agreed with Danny Daniels.

The United States had to survive.

S
ALAZAR FREED THE REMNANT OF THE LOCK AND OPENED THE
iron gate. A few feet inside the tunnel he spotted an electrical box
with a heavy cable protruding from its bottom, leading down into the ground, then disappearing ahead. Rowan stepped past him and worked the lever on one side upward.

Lights sprang on, dissolving the darkness.

“This is
Falta Nada,”
Rowan said.

He and Cassiopeia followed the elder into a wide tunnel that led into a small chamber. Stalactites, stalagmites, and flowstones twisted and turned before them, defying gravity, each as delicate and fragile as blown glass. Color abounded from prisms created by the lights through the crystals. A stunning scene, carefully illuminated to maximize the effect.

“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” Rowan asked.

Cassiopeia was studying some drawings on the rock wall. Salazar examined them, too, and saw strange pack animals, like llamas, led by a man dressed in what appeared to be armor.

“The Spanish,” Rowan said, noticing their interest. “They found this cave when they came north from Mexico in the 16th century and mined these hills, looking for gold.” Rowan stepped to a pile of white quartz and lifted one of the rocks. Stringers of yellow could be seen. “These were found along with tool marks on the walls from shovels and picks. The Spanish were here long before Saints ever came.”

Rowan motioned to a passageway.

“There’s more.”

R
OWAN ALLOWED
S
ALAZAR AND
C
ASSIOPEIA
V
ITT TO GO FIRST
, then he laid the quartz back down and followed. He’d been coy when Josepe introduced his companion, feigning ignorance, and ultimately offering his acceptance.

But he knew all about Cassiopeia Vitt.

“She works for the president,” Stephanie Nelle said
.

The call had come just before he’d left his house to drive north from Salt Lake City.

“She’s been embedded with Salazar for some time. They were lovers once, in their youth, so it was thought she could make inroads where others couldn’t. And she did. He has no idea.”

He’d listened with a mixture of anxiety and anger. How many times had the federal government interjected itself into church business? How many spies had there been? Too many to count. Everyone said that sort of violation was a thing of the past. How wrong they were.

“She was sent by Daniels. He’s been watching you and Salazar for over a year. Your prophet, Charles Snow, has been working with him, too.”

That he knew.

“I found out about Vitt and Snow a short while ago.”

“Why tell me?”

“Because I need you to succeed in whatever it is you’re doing. That helps me in what I’m doing. So I thought I’d pass this along.”

“I’m glad you did. But what do you expect me to do with it?”

“I don’t give a damn. Just finish whatever it is you’re doing and keep the president occupied. That’s all I need.”