The Reckoning: Book 3 (The Culling), page 24
Furthermore, in the midst of a war, how do I make sure I don’t make any major mistakes? The decisions we make affect people’s lives. More so now than ever. Will the people of our country look back on our presidency as the fall of our nation, or will they look back on it as its savior?
Chapter 20
“You realize she’s going to kill you, right?” Lyncoln asks me a few days and a few million meetings later.
I adjust his tie and plant a smooch on him to shut him up. “She might not like it at first, but if we don’t take the time like this to celebrate one another, what is the point in working so hard to end this war? We need to remember why we do what we do,” I respond almost automatically having mentally rehearsed saying something similar to Elizabeth about her surprise wedding reception tonight.
“And if she doesn’t kill you, Attie will for not telling her you knew and not having her help you,” he grins in amusement.
I roll my eyes. “Women. What can you do? Sometimes it’s just impossible to please us.”
He grins again, this time with playful eyes. “I don’t know, you don’t seem so difficult to please.”
I squint at him. “I am going to take that as a compliment and in a purely platonic way.”
He winks. “You can take it in whatever way you want, sweetheart.”
I try to bite back a smile and fail as I say, “You annoy me sometimes.”
“You infuriate me sometimes. And you are a pain in the butt all times,” he challenges.
Not able to contain it any longer, I laugh. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Me either,” he says and brings me in for a long kiss. When he stops he runs a hand through my hair. “You are really something though.”
“Why? Or should I ask, to what are you referring this time?” I ask as I rest my head on his chest and take a moment to just be with him.
“The team leaves for the compound tomorrow. We have both been working our butts off for the last week straight with hardly any breaks and you have barely even had time to eat, yet in the middle of all that, you still manage to find a way to throw some of our best friends a surprise wedding reception?” He shakes his head as if impressed.
“Well, yes, but I delegated almost all of it. Frank and Elle recruited a team to work on it. I really only multitasked by talking with them in the mornings while Frank got me ready. The rest was all them,” I pause. “That reminds me, we really need to give Frank a vacation of sorts.”
“Good luck with that,” he shakes his head. “That man is having the time of his life doing your bidding.”
“Yes, but everyone needs a break now and then. Including you,” I offer.
“I do! I get a break with you every night. 2100 hours when we just spend time with one another, no working,” he defends himself as if not understanding.
“I mean like a whole day. Twenty-four full hours of it. When is the last time you didn’t have anything to do for 24 hours? No meetings. No military. Just nothing.”
He thinks but it takes him way too long.
“Exactly,” I laugh.
“What would I do with an entire day of nothing?” he asks, freaked out by the notion.
“Oh, you’d figure it out.”
“Mrs. Reed, you are quite the bold married woman. I feel like it was yesterday that you were afraid to even mention… how did you phrase it the other night again... naked things?” he jokes.
“I believe I was always the one having to convince you,” I point out.
He nods and crosses his arms, pretending to be serious. “You were trying to take my innocence and virtue.”
I try to hold back a laugh and snort loudly instead. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Shall we head downstairs before all this talk makes me feel frisky?” he wiggles his eyebrows.
I laugh again. “Is there a time in which you aren’t feeling frisky?”
He grins. “Nope.”
I roll my eyes and try, but fail, to suppress my smile. “Go figure.”
He starts to pull me in, and I push back, warning him, “Lyncoln, we will be late.”
He slowly grins. “We don’t have time for everything I’d like to do right now, but we have time for some of this right here.” He leans in to give me one of those kisses that feel less like a kiss and more like a melding of our souls.
****
As we end the first part of the evening, with all three newly sworn-in cabinet members looking pleased, I get everyone’s attention to make an announcement. “Much is going on this week, and we have a lot to celebrate. Not only do we have three of the nation’s best being added to our cabinet, but we also have some people to celebrate. If you could join me in heading downstairs that would be great. I am sure you will figure it out quickly, but the announcement is not mine to give. So bear with me as we all relocate downstairs.” I end it with a huge smile at Elizabeth.
She immediately gives me the “What did you do?” look of doom.
As soon as people start to leave, she and Attie are there waiting for me. “What are you up to now? You look mischievous. And guilty.”
I look at Elizabeth still smiling. “What should’ve been done to begin with.”
“Why do I feel like I am missing out on something big here?!” Attie inquires.
“Dear, you leave for Vegas tomorrow with the identification software. You have had a busy last week IDing all of Denver. Understand that I love you and didn’t intentionally keep you out of anything. I delegated most of it myself. It just had to be done, and it should’ve been done a while ago.”
“Oh crap. What’s downstairs?” Elizabeth asks now even more confused and suspicious.
Attie just looks thoroughly confused. “What’s that even supposed to mean? Why all this vagueness? You’re killing me here!”
Lyncoln sees me getting cornered by the two of them, gives me a smug wink, and leaves to head downstairs with Maverick and Knox.
Traitor.
“Ladies, we can stand here and talk in circles, orrrr we can simply go downstairs, and I can show you,” I offer. “And please neither one of you be mad at me.”
“I make no promises,” Elizabeth says harshly but is almost bouncing with excitement as we walk toward the door.
We all kind of need this downtime and lightheartedness before the men leave for the mission tomorrow. Now that the projector video is recorded and ready to go, I am more nervous than I care to admit. So being busy and focusing on this tonight will help deter my own nerves.
Henry is part of the team of 12 going tomorrow, and although it worries me sick, I know he will do well. Per Taggert’s orders though, none of them will be at the reception tonight. I was pretty bummed about that because I wanted all of Samson’s men to be able to join in and mingle as well. Maybe if this first compound mission goes as planned, we can have another party of sorts in their honor. Some sort of celebration. That would be fun.
Once we arrive downstairs, even I’m swept away at the amazing décor for the reception. Frank and Elle really knew how to accomplish what I had in mind. I don’t know how I could ever doubt Frank at this point though. I give him an idea and he makes it a freaking vision. I don’t know how many people or how many hours it took to transform this room into a wedding reception, but it looks great. There is a big “M” at the back of the room in the center for Maverick’s last name, McKinney. There are flowers everywhere, a tiered cake, and a dance floor set up off to the side with some music being played by a live quartet. There are even twinkly lights and white gossamer at the front of the room. It’s pure elegance. Just like Elizabeth.
“How did you know lilies were my favorite?!” Elizabeth gasps.
“I didn’t,” I shrug. “I put Elle and Frank in charge. They must have found out somehow.”
She sighs contentedly and puts a hand on my arm. “It’s perfect.”
“Are you getting married tonight?!” Attie squeals excitedly and squeezes Elizabeth into a hug.
Elizabeth smiles and looks to me and then searches the room for Maverick. “Actually, I already am,” she whispers.
“Oooooooh!” Attie squeals and claps like a child.
“Shhhh,” I shush her. “Let her go announce it to everyone.”
Maverick shows up at her side and plants a kiss on her forehead. “Shall we go finally and officially tell the world that you’re my wife?” Nothing short of pride oozes out of his statement.
“Let’s.” She turns with him to head to the front of the room where everyone is standing awkwardly wanting to know whose wedding we are at or what is going on. Before she gets far, she turns around and throws herself into my arms hugging me tightly. “Thank you, Reagan. You have a lot going on. I didn’t expect this. Thank you.” She pulls back and looks at me with tears barely being contained in her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” I say and then add, “You deserve it.”
The rest of the people I made sure Frank and Elle invited are now filing in the room. Her dad was down here already. Some of her friends he thought she would want here, and all our mutual friends, including Vanessa and even my brother, who got to take a night off for the event. My parents are here too since they know Maverick and Elizabeth through us now.
Maverick goes up to the front of the room with Elizabeth by his side to give the big announcement. “If I could have your attention for just a few minutes here, there is something I need to explain. When our Madam President was kidnapped,” he pauses and the room goes so quiet I can hear myself breathe, “it reminded me how short life really can be, and rather than waste another minute of another damn day being engaged, I knew more than anything I wanted to be married to the woman beside me and make her my wife. We got married a few days after Madam Reed returned home.” Everyone starts cheering so he has to pause a minute. “We aren’t promised a single day, but every day on this earth that I do have, I want to promise to Elizabeth.”
He stops to kiss her and we all whoop and holler so loud we barely let him finish speaking. He goes on to explain they didn’t want to leave anyone out, but that they simply refused to waste another day not being married.
When he is done, Lyncoln and I head up to give short speeches about them. As we get up front, a server comes up and offers us champagne flutes for toasting and they begin to pass them out to everyone else as well.
Lyncoln steps forward to speak first. “Although there’s a lot going on for everyone right now,” he begins, “there is never so much going on that we don’t have enough time to treat each other right. We should never be too busy to celebrate what matters. Although the Culling doesn’t always produce couples with a love that will last a lifetime, this time around there are quite a few in which that was the case, and Maverick and Elizabeth are a prime example. They are two of the most unselfish people I have ever met. Let’s take pause to celebrate them and only them tonight. No talk of work. No talk of war. Just the two amazing people before us as they embark on a happy marriage,” he finishes raising his glass to toast them, which we all do.
Then the crowd claps and hollers again. Maverick nods to Lyncoln respectfully and Elizabeth wipes her eyes trying to keep those tears at bay that have been threatening her the whole evening.
Then I, too, give a speech honoring them and reveal that his parents are video-conferenced in. Maverick is barely containing his emotions at this point as his family takes over to say how proud they are of him, and of both of them. Elizabeth is freely, and quite gorgeously, bawling now. She knows how much his family means to him and to have their approval and kind words mean the world to them both. Leave it to Elizabeth, easily the most gorgeous candidate in our Culling, to cry pretty. If I was her, my face would be all screwed up and there would be snot everywhere. Everything that woman does exudes beauty, apparently including crying.
The reception only takes a few hours but is well worth it. Since there is no need for a ceremony, we get right to our meal, and then the cake, and then onto the dancing. Everyone is in a feel-good mood, not just the newlyweds. At first, I thought we should wait until after this first mission for their reception, but then I decided no more waiting. We celebrate what life throws at us as it comes at us. Just like we fix what needs fixing as it happens. I’m glad we didn’t wait to celebrate these two. They deserve it, no matter the outcome of tomorrow and this mission.
“Stop thinking about the mission,” Lyncoln presses a kiss to my forehead and spins me around on the dancefloor and then pulls me in close to him.
I sigh guiltily. “How’d you know I was thinking about the mission?”
He half-smiles affectionately. “Keeping your emotions in check was never your biggest strength.”
“Nope. Pretty much an open book,” I laugh.
He grins. “Which I love about you. But I’m realizing that this part is going to be super hard for you because of your emotions. I’ve been in the military for so long, I’m used to it. I’m used to the nerves and the unknowns going into missions. And combat specifically taught me how to shut off the emotions and focus on the task and goal. It’s kind of second nature to me now. But this war is going to be rough on you, and not just because you are trying to heal from what happened to you.”
I sigh again, thinking of my first PTSD therapy session I had this week. “I’d like to say I will learn and get better at turning off, or at least turning down, the emotions for these missions, but I just don’t think I will ever be able to. As long as our men are out there, and as long as there is a chance that something could go wrong and they might not return home safe, I don’t think I will ever be able to shut that off.”
He nods. “I get that. That’s just who you are. And not being involved would kill you worse than knowing what was going on.”
I shake my head knowing there isn’t an easy answer. “Let’s just hope and pray for a quick war.”
“Wars are never quick, sweetheart,” Lyncoln sighs this time. “Though one step at a time we will get it done, and tomorrow is step one.”
“May I cut in, Mr. President?” Ashton interrupts.
“For one dance,” Lyncoln agrees.
Ashton rolls his eyes. “Yes, sir.” When he calls Lyncoln “sir”, he always seems to be joking around a bit, but surprisingly, when he calls him “Mr. President”, there is nothing but respect in his voice.
“Hey.” I smile at my brother, ever the character. I know he’s doing his thing getting more military training, but I miss him here at Mile High. I miss going for walks or building snowmen with him and Shepp.
“Hey, sis. How are ya?” he asks. I see the genuine concern there.
I nod for emphasis. “I’m good all things considered. Even started my therapy sessions. How’s training? How are you?”
He groans. “I have never had to run so much in my life. I think they are actually trying to run us to death. That and push-ups. And I know this will surprise the crap out of you, but a few times I have accidentally mouthed off and got in a bit of trouble.”
“No,” I feign astonishment.
He looks at me accusingly. “We are related, you know.”
I grin. “So how much longer in training until you get to the weapons?”
“Not soon enough,” he groans again. “I will have a full year of this hard stuff. Maybe more given the circumstances. But at least we get to start shooting practice here soon. So that gives me hope, getting my hands on a weapon, even just a handgun, is in my near future.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “And to think you could have been stuck farming in Omaha.”
He gets oddly serious. “I would’ve done it and been happy because I didn’t know any better, but I like this life so much more.”
“Me too.” I wouldn’t have even met Lyncoln had it not been for the Culling.
Ashton blushes, the same blush that curses me, making me realize he was thinking the same thing about Vanessa.
I raise my eyebrows in question.
“What?” he asks innocently. Too innocently.
“How’s that going for you?”
He rolls his eyes annoyed. “How do you know everything?”
“Most powerful woman in all the land, remember?” I joke.
“Yeah, you and that Marjorie chick. Both powerful. Both crazy. Both determined. Except you are determined to protect your people and genuinely care for them. She is determined they keep fearing us and therefore following her. So where you are good, she is evilllllll.” He says it nonchalantly and I know he’s just trying to change the subject, but it works.
“Interesting,” I say quietly.
“What?”
I shake my head. “Since she showed up here at the wedding reception with no other agenda than to torture me some more with her presence, I’ve been trying to wrap my head around who she is. Like if I can think like her and put myself in her shoes, I can somehow outwit her,” I explain. “It’s the same thing I tried to do with Hadenfelt.”
“But you can never think like her, just like you couldn’t ever think like him,” Ashton nods, getting what I’m saying. “You’re not psychotic, Reagan.”
“But what you just said proves to me that we are more alike than I would care to admit.”
He thinks that over for a moment. “Yeah. The difference is you are protective of your people and she is protective over her power. You care about people and she cares only about power.”
“Which makes me more vulnerable because there are more ways to get at me and tear me down,” I sigh frustrated.
“Or it makes her more so. You care about your people, but they care about you too. She’s on her own. She took you and she still couldn’t get rid of you because you had people, people from her own side, wanting to protect you. There is no one that would fight for her if they truly knew her. Once she is isolated, it’s over. She’s a lone ranger,” he says as though it were obvious.
I have to think on that a minute, impressed with his thinking. “But I can’t find her, Ash. That’s the problem. She leaves no trace. She leaves no trail. She’s a ghost.” And here we are back to square one like we have been in dozens of meetings on this same topic. Find Marjorie, and we end the war. The problem is we won’t find her until she’s ready to be found. She knows it and we know it.
