The Lincoln Myth(113)

Luke caught Stephanie’s glare, the first time she’d looked his way. They’d talked on the phone earlier, just after he and Malone had arrived in Utah. She’d told him what had to be done, none of which he particularly liked. Her stare now asked if he understood that—like the Danites outside—he, too, was sworn to duty.

He gave a nod.

“I will pray for your success,” Snow said. Luke turned and faced the prophet.

“Old man, you’re foolin’ no one. You led Rowan and Salazar here because this godforsaken place is in the middle of nowhere. Now you want us to go and do your dirty work. So let’s don’t cast this with any sense of righteousness. There’s nothin’ right or sacred here.”

“I must apologize,” Stephanie said, “for my agent’s rudeness.”

“He’s correct,” Snow said. “There is nothing righteous about this. It is a despicable business. I’ve wondered all night if this is how Brigham Young himself felt when he ordered those wagons taken and the gold returned? He had to have known that men would die. But he had no choice. And neither do I.”

Luke opened his door and stepped out.

Malone and Stephanie followed.

The two Danites reacted to Malone’s appearance, retrieving their weapons.

“He is our enemy,” one of them said.

“No, he’s not,” the prophet said. “Your enemy is far more complex.”

Neither man backed down.

“I will not say it again,” Snow said. “Drop those guns and do as I say. Or pay the price in heaven.”

The two tossed the guns back down.

Snow motioned for them to leave. “Go ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Stephanie led the way toward the trail.

“You’re not going to hurt her,” Malone said.

Stephanie stopped and faced her former employee. “And you think I would?”

“Depends on what happens.”

“I’ve been ordered to make sure that nothing leaves this spot that could jeopardize the future of the United States of America.”

“Fine. Do your job. But you and Frat Boy here better know, right now, nobody is going to hurt her. Period.”

“I also have a job to do,” Luke said.

“Do it. But if you make a move on Cassiopeia I’ll kill you.”

Luke did not like to be threatened. Never had. But Stephanie had also ordered him not to provoke Malone. They would deal with Cassiopeia as the situation developed. She’d warned him that Malone would know the score, better to rock him to sleep than challenge him.

They weren’t here to win battles, only the war.



MALONE MEANT EVERY WORD HE SAID. HE’D SHOOT THE FRAT Boy dead if any harm came to Cassiopeia. He’d sensed the gravity of the situation from Stephanie’s silence, knowing that every loose end of this operation had to be snipped tight. Stephanie, Luke, himself? They were pros. Sworn to secrecy. No danger of them revealing anything. But Rowan, Salazar, and Cassiopeia? They were an entirely different matter. Especially Cassiopeia, who was not thinking like herself. He possessed the greatest respect for Stephanie, even understood her quandary—orders were orders—and the stakes were the highest he could ever remember. But that changed nothing. And if Cassiopeia was too involved to look after herself, he’d do it for her.

She’d many times done it for him.

Time to repay the favor.

Whether she wanted it or not.



STEPHANIE WAS ARMED. UNUSUAL FOR HER. A BERETTA 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.”