The Underground Part 20

Nathaniel carefully selected the correct fork and took a bite from the bed of greens that was laid in front of him.

"This is delicious!" he proclaimed when the silence in the air felt like it had been there too long. He was conscious of his words, trying hard to be polite, without fawning over her every word. He knew a woman like the Queen would sense any bit of dishonesty.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it," the Queen said. "Now tell me about Kansas City. Of course I've been all over the country, but I don't know what it's like to really live there," she said, looking keenly interested.

"Kansas City is a wonderful place. It really is. The people are nice, the city is beautiful, and there is plenty of parking," he said in a joking tone. "Unlike the many other areas of the country."

"I guess so," the Queen said, smiling, but it looked forced to Nathaniel. He felt like a dork for mentioning parking. Of course she didn't have to worry about that. It was his nerves making him too talkative, and he knew that he should be mindful of that.

When the four course lunch was complete, it was nearly 3 p.m.

"We should really be going," Shayla said.

"Well, it was lovely to meet you. I do hope we'll see you again, yes?"

"I certainly hope so," he said.

"Mother, how about the Queen's ball this coming Sat.u.r.day?"

The Queen's smile lessened a bit and Nathaniel felt the air get sucked out of the room.

"Well, the invitations have already gone out and, well..."

"It's perfectly fine. Some other time then," Nathaniel said, not wanting to anger the Queen after lunch had gone reasonably well.

"Oh, come on, mother. I'm sure there is enough food for me to bring a special guest," Shayla said, and Nathaniel felt the challenge in the air. Shayla told him that their relations.h.i.+p was tough sometimes, but seeing it first hand was more uncomfortable than he imagined.

"Of course, Shayla. We can certainly arrange that," the Queen said, with flawless dignity. "I'll get Gerald to escort you out," the Queen said, as she was about to push a b.u.t.ton on a panel in the room that boasted many.

"We don't need an escort. We'll see you on Sat.u.r.day," Shayla said with excitement. Nathaniel was nervous as h.e.l.l.

Chapter 32.

"What did you think?" the Queen asked Gerald.

"He seemed like a fine young man," Gerald said.

"Well, something jumped out at me," the Queen said. "That's no Kansas City accent, that's for sure," she said.

"He did mention that he's worked all over the country, for Kelly boys," Gerald said, hoping she would let it go.

"Perhaps you are right, but when you get a chance, can you go ahead and send me the information from that background search you did? I want to know exactly who my daughter is involved with, and who I am exposing my guests to at my annual ball."

"Of course, your majesty," he said, feeling glad that he had taken the time to at least jot down notes about what he had said in his oral report to her.

"Thank you, Gerald," she said. "And one more thing, would you make sure and keep an extra eye on him that evening?"

"Of course, your majesty," Gerald said, before the Queen turned and walked away, retreating to her private quarters.

It was raining, but Gerald put on his rain gear and took a walk through the park outside the Palace to make the phone call.

"It's better than we could have asked for," Gerald said to Simon. "Shayla forced her mother to allow her to bring him to the Queen's ball. It's her largest event for local supporters each year. She'll be far too busy to keep an eye on everyone," he said.

"Finally, some luck on our side," Simon said, sighing. "Speaking of which, is there any word about the protesters she had captured? We've got hundreds of men missing."

"I don't know anything. I imagine they are either still locked up or dead. I can't ask her. It would raise too much suspicion," Gerald said.

Nathaniel rose early the next morning and went back to his hotel to get fresh clothes before work. The unexpected sight of Simon in his room, sitting on a chair, caught him by surprise.

"Good morning, buddy!" Simon said, his feet propped up as he sat leaning back on the easy chair by the window, his arms behind his head. Despite Simon's relaxed look, there was nothing relaxing about this visit.

"Come on in and close the door, son. I'm not going to bite you."

Nathaniel did as he was told. He knew it was no coincidence that Simon showed up the morning after he met the Queen. Clearly, he wasn't being paranoid. The Underground was keeping tabs on him, after all.

"Come. Sit down," Simon said, gesturing to the edge of the bed. I've been here all night waiting for you," he said with a smile. "I'm guessing you got lucky, and I even think I know who the lucky lady is. It looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself here." Simon gestured to the niceties of hotel life, the perfectly pressed s.h.i.+rts peeking from the closet, and the lined up row of shoes for every occasion that sat on the edge of the room.

"I'm okay. Settling in."

"Well, good. Through the grapevine, we hear you are doing quite well."

"Yes, sir," Nathaniel said with resignation. "I may not see you again, but I will track your whereabouts. I know you'll do well. I have great faith that you will help our cause, will help your brothers all around you."

Nathaniel heard Chester's words echo in his mind, before they parted in the Underground. Now he understood the purpose of their meeting. Chester wanted to make sure Nathaniel understood that he would be called on. The balloon payment of Nathaniel's Underground education was coming due.

"We need a little favor from you, son. You don't mind, do you?"

Nathaniel sat down. He dreaded this day, but wasn't surprised. "Good." Simon s.h.i.+fted in his seat, and the mood changed with him, as the smile dissolved from his face.

Simon took his feet off the chair and sat up, leaning a little closer to Nathaniel. He removed the dark gla.s.ses, focusing his serious eyes on Nathaniel. He continued speaking in a voice so quiet Nathaniel strained to hear.

"You've done a great job of getting in with Shayla. Chester is very pleased with that. Very pleased. n.o.body could have done it but you. Our favor is very simple. We need you to put a little something in the Palace for us when you go to the party on Sat.u.r.day."

"What is it?" Nathaniel asked flatly. He felt like he was on autopilot.

Simon moved closer to Nathaniel.

"It's a bomb," he whispered before moving back, sitting up straight. He cracked his fingers one by one, slowly, giving Nathaniel a moment to absorb his words. Nathaniel hid behind a closely guarded stone face that masked his true terror. He antic.i.p.ated the favors they would ask would not be as simple as helping a community fundraising carwash, but he never expected this.

"When will it go off?" he asked quietly, once again on autopilot.

"Well, it'll go off after you set it. You'll have 30 minutes to get out of there. Then... ka-boom," Simon said, mimicking an explosion with his hands. He spoke about it lightly, as though he were talking about making popcorn.

"How do I set it?" Nathaniel asked.

"I was just getting to that part. I'll show you right now." Simon said removing a brown paper bag from his coat pocket. He pulled out two credit card sized items and a thin wire with plugs on both ends.

"Take this plug and put it into each of these items here, you see, and then... voila! It's all set and the timer starts ticking. Then, stick it to the back of a toilet. It's that easy," he said with sarcasm clearly in his voice. "It's as easy as eating a big juicy apple pie. Even easier really. Not as messy, until cleanup time," he said making a scowl that frightened Nathaniel.

"Can I leave once it's set?"

"Of course! Jeez, son, do you think we'd kill you? What kind of folks do you think we are? You're one of our own. Our kin! You leave as soon as you set it," Simon patted him heartily on the back.

"By yourself," he added quietly, and Nathaniel knew there was no way he would leave Shayla there. He knew that escaping with the Queen was out of the question as she was the obvious target. How would that work, anyway? With all her security, there was no way he could swoop her away from her own party, the biggest of the year. Besides, what would he do with her? Ask her to eat dried fruit while they camped out on the side of a river in the country, hiding out like fugitives trying to avoid castration?

"Any other questions," Simon asked casually, as though it were the end of a high-school physics lecture and he wanted to ensure the audience fully understood his lesson.

Nathaniel thought about asking exactly how much damage the bomb would do and how many people it was likely to kill, but decided against it. What difference would it make? The more he knew the harder it would be and he realized there was no choice.

"No, sir," Nathaniel said solemnly.

"Good. Well, here you go," Simon said quickly tossing the small bag to Nathaniel with a chuckle. Nathaniel barely caught it, and was dumbfounded that this was the same Simon who escorted him to his home in Kansas City, setting him free like a b.u.t.terfly only months earlier. Nathaniel felt doomed. The price of life through the Underground was higher than he imagined.

"Good to see you again," Simon said as he walked past Nathaniel, leaving him alone with the bag, and the task of murder at the top of his to-do list for Sat.u.r.day evening. Nathaniel could hear Simon whistling the National Anthem as he sauntered down the hall.

Nathaniel collapsed onto the bed, as his frenzied thoughts ran through the process, putting all emotion aside. Go to the Palace, plug the wire and cards together, tape it to the back of a toilet in the men's room, and get out of there with Shayla.

Just a single day earlier he had pinched himself to see if the happiness he felt was real, and it had been. Now, he felt his insides being torn up over the crime against humanity, against his lover and her mother that he was to commit in less than 72 hours.

After work that day, he met Shayla in her office at 5 p.m. As usual, the office door was closed and locked before she kissed him.

"What would you like for dinner? I can get take out from wherever you want," she said, growing used to the idea that they might never go out in public together. She didn't care. Being wined and dined at some of the spectacular and romantic restaurants that the D.C. area paled in comparison to having Nathaniel by her side.

"I don't really feel well. I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe I ate something bad," he said, feeling guilty about hiding the truth.

"Hmmm, you do look a little pale."

"I think I just need to sleep," he said, hoping she would suggest he go back to his hotel alone.

"Then you'll just have to come back to my place so I can take care of you. I'll force-feed you something to make you all better," she said jovially, her arms clasped together behind his neck as she looked up at him with loving innocence he couldn't return.

"Are you sure? What if it's a virus or something. No reason for both of us to be sick. Maybe we shouldn't chance it," he said turning his head away. He couldn't look her in the eye.

"Nonsense. I'm sure it's nothing like that. I know just the thing to help you get better," she said, reaching behind him and squeezing his behind hard and quick.

Chapter 33.

Nathaniel left most of the meal on his plate.

"Is my cooking that bad?" Shayla asked in jest.

"No, it's delicious. Really," he said unconvincingly. "It's just that I don't feel well. I think I need to go to sleep."

"I know what will make you feel better," she said as she began to unb.u.t.ton his pants, placing her hands snuggly inside. He gently took her hands away.

"Geez, you really must be sick," she said, surprised.

"That's what I tried to tell you," he said with annoyance. It was a tone he had never used with her, and he felt bad about it.

"Alright. I was just trying to make you feel better, but if you need to sleep, then sleep. I'll just go and read for a while before I join you."

"Sleep well. Feel better," she said a short while later. She kissed Nathaniel softly on the forehead before turning out the lights.

His sleep wasn't restful as his nightmare came alive. He saw himself place the bomb before barely escaping with Shayla.

The explosion sent body parts everywhere. Hands still wore diamond rings. Arms still wore bright designer fabrics. Heads without bodies cried out to him, but it was too late. He looked over at Shayla who cradled the b.l.o.o.d.y stump of her mother's head. As she held it out to Nathaniel and asked him why, through her thick veil of tears, he awoke abruptly with a scream that brought Shayla upright.

"What is it?" she asked frantically.

Unable to reconcile his task with the thought of murdering his lover and her mother, he told her what had happened. It spilled out of him in fragments, until he could speak cohesively. She turned on the bedside light and listened with wide eyes as he recounted the previous morning's events in detail.

"I'm so sorry, Shayla. To bring you into this. To be part of it at all. I don't know what to do, but if I don't do it, they'll kill me! They will!"

"We'll figure something out," she said, sounding shocked.

"Besides, if I don't do it, someone else will! That's one of the few things I know about how the Underground works. Goals are met, regardless of obstacles. Whatever the cost. It might not happen this Sat.u.r.day, but make no mistake that it will happen."

Just then, his phone rang. Given the events of the day and the unidentified caller, he felt he needed to pick up, even though it was 3 a.m.

As he answered, he heard the crackle of a bad phone connection, but there was a clarity to the voice that yelled his name.

"Joe! It's Garrett. You must help us! We're in the dungeon in Kansas City. There are hundreds of us. We're dying! Send help!" he heard before the phone call clicked to a dead silence.

"You look like you saw a ghost," Shayla said.

"I think I just spoke with one," he said before recounting the snippet of a phone conversation he had just had.

"I know just the person to help us," she said, seeming almost smug, which puzzled Nathaniel.

"What on earth are you talking about?" he said, feeling ill at the stack against him. There was n.o.body on earth who could prevent this eventual act.