Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
Casey thought it all rather sweet when he would lay his
enormous body on Jack’s toddler bed and read stories to him at bedtime. Brody
and Hunter would usually join in, all of them trying to cram on to Jack’s
little red racecar bed in spite of the fact that the older boys were too old
for storytime. They just wanted to be part of the huddle. She would stand in
the doorway and watch her boys; it was the time of the day she loved best.
Over the past few months, Colt had been dropping hints about
having another baby but Casey would change the subject. She was busy enough
with three boys, and with Hunter now in high school, her time was limited.
She was just happy to be Mrs. Colt Sheridan and if they happened to have
another baby, it would just have to work itself out. Life, at the moment, was
amazing as it was. She didn’t think another baby could or would make it any
better.
So the days, like today, were precious and normal, and Casey
was already thinking about what she was going to make for dinner. She finished
adjusting Russ’ calendar, pausing as she listened to the conversation coming
out of Russ’ office. She could tell that they were preparing to head out to
the Mall and the Vietnam Veterans memorial rally. Soon enough, Colt appeared,
talking into his radio as he headed out of the office. He gave his wife a wink
as he passed by and she watched him walk out, admiring his big frame and sleek
dark suit. The man only grew more handsome by the day.
Russ, Barbara, and more aides followed Colt, along with
several more Secret Service agents. As Russ passed Casey’s desk, he came to
an abrupt halt.
“Can you come along, Casey?” he asked, motioning to her. “We
can take care of some things on the drive over.”
Casey nodded, picking up her usual equipment- the IPad,
purse and two cell phones. She ended up walking out with Peter, waving to
Lisanne as she exited the West Wing to the waiting motorcade in the newly paved
driveway outside. It was a sunny day, slightly humid, as Casey followed Russ
to the Presidential limousine.
Colt was standing next to the car, directing the agents over
the radio, when he realized that one of his agents had been displaced from one
of the big black Suburbans because of some equipment they had stored in the
car. Colt pulled Peter out of the chase car, put him in the front of the
Presidential limousine, while Colt climbed into the rear of the car after
Casey. The left-over agent took charge of the chase car.
Russ was talking to Barbara when the limousine pulled out,
realizing that Colt and Casey were in the cab with him. He grinned at Colt.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you back here,” he said.
“No, sir,” Colt grinned. “So this is how the other half
lives.”
Russ snorted. “I have a mini-bar,” he taunted. “If you’re
real nice, I might let you have a look.”
Colt’s grin grew as he answered some chatter on the radio.
Casey was smiling as well as she pulled out her IPad and prepared to go to
work.
“Don’t tease him with that stuff,” she told the President.
“He’ll sneak in after hours and drink all the good bourbon.”
Russ laughed at Colt’s expense. “Your wife is ratting you
out, Sheridan.”
Colt just shook his head, pretending to be exasperated. “It
wouldn’t be the first time, Mr. President.”
Russ sat back in his seat, glancing to the sidewalk and
scenery outside when they stopped at a red light.
“Speaking of a Sheridan,” he said thoughtfully, “Tracy wants
to know what she can get Jack for his birthday. It’s coming up here pretty
quick.”
Casey looked at Colt, who shrugged. “He’s got everything he
could possibly need or want,” he replied, “but he likes those big metal dump
trucks. He’s been in to digging in the dirt lately.”
“Perfect,” Russ replied decisively. “I’ll have her get him
one of those dump trucks that kids can drive around in. You’ve seen those
things. They’re pretty cool.”
Casey was still looking at Colt, this time reluctantly.
Colt took the hint but he tried to be tactful.
“I think he’s a little young for a driving truck,” he
replied. “A toy truck will make him just as happy. “
Russ looked defiant. “I’m his godfather,” he pointed out. “I
can get him whatever I want and you can’t stop me.”
Colt grunted softly, with resistance, looking to his wife
with a faint grin on his face. Silent words passed between the two, knowing
there would be no discouraging the President from spoiling the child he felt
that he was responsible for. Jack Sheridan wouldn’t exist had Russ not
introduced Casey to Colt, so in that respect, Russ wasn’t too far off. He
treated the boy as if he was his own, with gifts and little toys and other
goodies.
Jack had even spent the night at the White House once when
Colt and Casey went away for a weekend, simply because Russ and Tracy had
begged to watch him. It had been hard to say no. Russ cleared out his calendar
for the entire weekend and every moment had been dedicated to hanging out with
little Jack Sheridan. Russ still talked about it.
Colt gave up trying to discourage the man and Casey went
back to her IPad as the Presidential motorcade neared the Vietnam Veterans
memorial. Security was tight and there was quite a crowd on hand. Colt
scanned the crowd as Russ and Casey began to go over a few points for his
speech for the rally. It was a big operation, one that had both the Secret
Service and the D.C. police scrambling because the President’s appearance
hadn’t been confirmed. Now that he was here, security was massive.
Colt played close attention to where they were going to stop
the limousine, coordinating with other agents who were already on-site. When
the big black car finally pulled to a halt by the Lincoln Memorial, Colt
swiftly kissed his wife and opened up the back door.
“Off to work,” he murmured as he exited the vehicle. “Love
you.”
“Be careful,” she whispered as he brushed by. “Love you,
too.”
Colt gave her a smile and a wink before he put his
sunglasses on and went to work. Casey climbed out, followed by Barbara, and
finally Russ. The crowd cheered when they saw the President and Russ smiled
broadly, working the crowd as he followed Colt and Peter across the parking
area and on towards the memorial several dozen yards away. The Mall was nearly
half-full with people, spilling out in into the drive, and there were even
people in the reflecting pool on this warm summer day.
Casey was lingering towards the rear of the entourage, still
within the scope of the Secret Service agents, as she followed Russ’
movements. She could see Colt up at the front of the pack, at least a head
taller than everyone else around him, and she smiled as she watched him
directed his agents. He was always a model of efficiency to watch. She even
watched him push back some photographers who got too close. One guy ended up
on his ass. But the procession moved through, heading towards the Vietnam
Veteran’s memorial as it resided within green parklands.
The crowd was cheering Russ as he walked the path towards
the memorial. Colt had moved to mid pack now, shadowing the President closely
as they walked, mostly because there were trees and trees could hide or hold
gunmen. As they neared the memorial and the crowd was held back by ropes and
police officers, Colt turned around to look for his wife. He caught sight of
her towards the back with Steven Case following a few feet behind her, and he
removed his glasses so she could see that he was looking at her.
Casey saw him, the faint smile on his face, and she smiled
at him, giving him a brief wave. Colt smiled back, never realizing that her
beautiful face would be the last thing he ever saw. He heard the gunshot
shortly before everything went black.
… and then there was silence.
C
HAPTER
TWENTY ONE
“They never found out where the shot came from,” Mother was
whispering softly. “One minute he was there and in the next… well, he never
knew what hit him. I guess I should have been grateful for small mercies.”
Jack lay against his mother, stunned. When his mother had
opened her mouth an hour ago, he’d never expected anything like this. It went
beyond what his imagination could have ever dreamed up and he was struggling to
process it.
“So… you were really the personal assistant to President
Russell Talbot?” he asked softly, with disbelief.
“Yes,” Mother replied faintly.
Jack just shook his head. “And he was my godfather? Why
didn’t I know that?”
Mother shrugged weakly. “Because with everything that
happened surrounding Colt’s death, I pretty much cut out that part of my life,
Russ included. I just couldn’t handle it. I think he understood. He still sent
you birthday cards every year with a check. I put the money in your college fund.”
Jack thought on that a moment. “What you’ve told me… that’s
not stuff you’ll find in history books. It’s a pretty amazing story.”
“Better than me being a prostitute or being a spy?”
Jack grinned, a gesture that looked very much like his
father. “Definitely.” He fell silent for a moment, focusing on the more
important issue. “So I’m descended from General Philip Sheridan on my father’s
side?”
Mother nodded slowly. “You are the product of two great
American families,” she murmured. “Your birth name was Philip Henry Sheridan
VI, but when I married Scott, we legally changed it on your birth certificate
to Philip Henry Dane. I thought it would be better that way, especially if the
Norte de Valle was behind Colt’s death. I didn’t want them to find you.”
“That makes sense.”
“Your kids carry Sheridan and Cleburne blood as well. It’s a
proud thing.”
Jack sat up and climbed off the bed, turning to look at his
mother with an expression between bewilderment and excitement. “That’s an
understatement,” he muttered ironically. “I really can’t believe you never told
me all of this before. I’m almost offended.”
Mother was watching him with her soft violet eyes. “Don’t
be,” she whispered. “I guess… I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to talk
about it. You have to understand, Jack, how much your father meant to me. We
had that love that people hope for but seldom have. I’ve missed him
desperately every day of my life for the past forty three years. It’s been
grief like you can’t imagine, and you look so much like him that, at times,
it’s been difficult to look at you and not feel the pain.”
Jack thought on the man who had been revealed to be his
father. He had so many questions he didn’t know where to start.
“Hunter and Brody knew him,” he said softly. “They never said
a word to me about him, not ever.”
Mother watched Jack struggle with his feelings. “Probably
because his death was painful for us all,” she murmured. “They knew how hard it
was for me. I would never speak of him and I think they just learned not to speak
of him, either. They assumed I’d tell you the truth, someday.”
Jack began to pace. “Colt Sheridan,” he murmured, repeating
the name as if to make it all the more real to him. “Do they think it was the
Cartel who took him out, then?”
Mother shrugged weakly. “It was one of the theories,” she
said. “They could never prove it. The most prevalent theory was that someone
was aiming for President Talbot and hit Colt instead. They did all kinds of
investigations. There was even a senate committee investigation about it. From
the trajectory of the bullet, they think the shooter came from Henry Bacon
Drive, but they never found anyone or anything. It was very strange; as if
whoever did it just… vanished.”
Jack was listening intently. “What about the Core?” he
wanted to know. “From what you said, those guys had the ability to assassinate
someone and then just disappear, just like Colt did when he assassinated
Noestra. If Sheridan stopped working for the Core like you said, maybe they
wanted to eliminate him. He knew too much about them.”
Again, Mother shrugged. “Another one of the theories.”
Jack’s FBI training began to kick in as he tried to gather
information on a forty year old mystery. “Did you ever ask Agent Harrios?” he
asked. “He was part of the Core. Did you ever rat him out to the President?”
Mother thought on the African-American agent who had been
both enemy and friend.
“No,” she murmured. “There wasn’t much point. When Colt was
killed, Peter was devastated, so I really don’t think he was a part of any
greater conspiracy. He requested a transfer after Colt’s death, in fact.
After Colt’s funeral, I never saw him again.”
Jack scratched his head, pondering that information. “What
about that Mr. Meade character? Did you ever see him again?”
Mother shook her head. “No,” she replied. “I don’t know what
happened to him. To be honest, I didn’t care. After Colt died, I didn’t care
about much of anything. He was dead and no amount of investigations or
prosecutions could bring him back. All of that just didn’t seem to matter
anymore.”