FIFTY-NINE

“I’ve got bad news and worse news …”

Abigail braced herself. “Keep going, Harry.”

“The grand jury has just returned a multiple-count criminal indictment against you, Josh, and each member of the Roundtable.”

“So much for freedom of association,” she muttered. Abigail was incensed that the government would know the identities of the members, when they had worked so hard to keep that information confidential. “How did they find out?” But Abigail already knew the answer. Fort Rice had once interviewed an attorney for possible inclusion in the group. Fort hadn’t realized it, but the attorney was a mole, a confidant of Jessica Tulrude’s. So the crumbs weren’t hard to trace.

“I’m sorry, Abby.”

“What are the substantive charges?”

“As you predicted, only one, in every single count: seditious conspiracy.”

“So what’s the worse news, Harry?”

“I’ve talked to Attorney General Hamburg. He says he’s willing to dismiss the charges …”

Abigail waited for the but.

“… but there’s a hitch.”

“There always is.”

“He says all the members — each of them — has to cooperate.”

Abigail had already figured it out. “This can’t be happening …”

“I’m afraid it is.”

“The attorney general wants them to testify against Joshua — to knife him in the back?”

“Not just that.”

“It gets worse?”

“Hamburg says the same goes for you.”

She couldn’t respond, at least not at first.

Harry filled in the blanks. “I know what you’re thinking … the husband-wife privilege not to testify against each other. But Hamburg says he’ll be satisfied if you merely nail Josh with things said in the company of others, where the privilege would be waived anyway — ”

Abigail cut him off. “Tell the attorney general — and, Harry, I want you to quote my words exactly — that I will rot in jail, in the worst cell in the world, the filthiest hellhole in the prison system, before I lie about my husband … before I turn on him. Have you got my position on that?”

“I figured you’d say that.” Then he added, “Sorry, Abby, but as your attorney I had to disclose what Hamburg said. Frankly, it made me sick to my stomach.”

“I can appreciate that, but you can take Tums for that. My problems are more complicated than indigestion.”

Before clicking off, Harry said, “One last thing, Abby. We need you to turn yourself over to the authorities. You know the routine: handcuffs, media photographers, the whole nine yards. Then the initial court appearance. It’ll be a feeding frenzy for the press.”

“Can you buy a little time?”

“A day or two, max.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going into hiding. I’ll produce myself … if it comes to that. I just need time to think. And to pray.”

After the call, Abby dashed down to the barn where Cal was watering the horses and mucking the stables. He dropped his bucket and leaned back against the wooden slats of the stable, as Abby told him what Smythe had said. She could see the fear in Cal’s eyes, but he didn’t waver. He asked her to clarify something. “Mom, you told me once about that lawyer who was a mole … who spilled the information about the Roundtable …”

“Allen Fulsin, a D.C. attorney. He had connections to the vice president’s office.”

“Something sounds unethical about that. Or am I wrong?”

“No, your instincts are right, Cal. Fulsin was interviewed regarding his serving on the legal committee for the Roundtable. That’s attorney-client privilege. Then Fulsin gave the information to the White House to use against us. Probably to Jessica Tulrude who is the one who had the ties to Fulsin.”

“Can’t we use that to get the case dismissed?”

“Maybe. If we can show that the White House deliberately used Fulsin as a spy in his capacity as an attorney initiate for the Roundtable. But Fulsin didn’t learn much about us. Just some background stuff — who we are, the members, that sort of thing. But I’ll take whatever we can get as a defense. I just have this sneaking suspicion …”

“What?”

“Call it woman’s intuition … that if we dig deep enough into Jessica Tulrude’s attitude about us, Josh and I, and the Roundtable, we may hit pay dirt. On the other hand, maybe I’m just grabbing at straws.”

Abigail silently chewed on that for a moment … the fact that Allen Fulsin was known to have ties to Jessica Tulrude when she was vice president. There might be something there. It keeps coming back to Tulrude.

She turned to Cal. “When you’re finished with our four-legged friends, come on up to the house and clean up. You and I have work to do. You’re going to be my paralegal. You’re the guy who changed his major to poli-sci, remember? You’re about to get an advanced course in the collision between law and politics.”

Cal smiled and nodded.

As Abigail trudged back to the lodge, she began to let herself go a little emotionally. She had wanted to be confident in front of her son. But when she privately allowed herself to see the trouble she was in, she suddenly felt as if she were slipping down, farther and farther, being slowly sucked into quicksand.

God, give me wisdom. Help me keep my mind straight. And please, protect Josh …

She was shaken out of her prayer by the ringtone of her Allfone. It was Rocky Bridger.

“Abby, there’s news about Josh. Plan A — being picked up in northern Iran by an Israeli helicopter — didn’t happen, but don’t worry, there’s a plan B — an alternate pickup site farther north. I’m told that Josh and the team are okay. They’re waiting right now at the secondary rendezvous point.”

She whispered, “Thank You, Lord.”

“Now, something else. This is classified, but you need to hear it. I don’t want you seeing this on the evening news first …”

“Evening news?”

“There’s a monster invasion underway — right now. May be breaking in the next few hours or so. Ships are gathering in the Mediterranean. Armies massing in the north in Syria and in the South in Egypt. A Russian-led coalition, Abby. They’re going to attack Israel.”

Abigail reeled. She stopped at the front steps and dropped down on the first step. Deborah, the one that she thought was safe, was now in the crosshairs of a war. “Deb … my Deb …”

“I’ve tried to make contact with her, Abby, but the Israelis have locked down satellite communications. I’m trying to get to her through IDF command, but as you can imagine, they’re preparing for an all-out invasion.”

Rocky’s voice stumbled. “Abby, I’ll stay on this until I get answers — about Debbie and Josh. Hang in there, dear. No one’s giving up.”

After the call, Abigail sat listless for a moment and stared at the immovable mountains that pierced the blue sky. She could only voice a trembling whisper from the Psalms: