A/N: Apologies for the delay. I had to get my cast removed and start therapy for my leg. You can read ahead on my Patreon if you want to check the other stories I have written, or maybe just chat me up. Those guys over there are amazing.
Episode 34
Episode 34 Blackout
Jack Routh
He had escaped.
It still hurt when he moved, but he just wanted to see them. The doctors didn't want him to leave, and he settled on spending the last few days looking for their familiar blue car through the small window. He couldn't see their blue car, and so he settled on counting the ones that had the blue color on them, they were very rare, though.
He always asked about his mom and dad, but no one answered. The mean guard at his door told him they were with god now. He didn't understand what the man meant, but he wanted to go to god if it meant his parents were there. They wouldn't leave him here alone, would they? Maybe they forgot.
He nodded to himself. He'd find this god, and he was sure his parents were there. That night, he was able to escape. The bar to the window was loose, and he kept wiggling it until the rusted bar came loose from the walls. His hands hurt, but he didn't care.
The night was cold, and the asphalt was rough on his bare feet, but he was finally free. He walked down the road, one step at a time. He didn't know how long he was out walking, and he shivered most of the way from the cold, but the thought of finally seeing his parents spurned him on. He'd be hugging mum again, and dad would lift him up and toss him high up in their air.
He needed to have a word with this god, too. Why did he take his parents with him and leave him alone?
"Holy Shit." A large man in a thick jacket stared at him with wide eyes. "How did you get here?"
"Where… god?" He couldn't speak clearly since his teeth kept chattering.
"Jesus, you're like a popsicle." The man wrapped his own jacket around him. "Let's…. let's get you back."
"But… but… parents." He shivered. He suddenly felt tired and sleepy, but another man slapped him awake. It hurt, and he glared at the man.
"We nearly fucked up." The rude man shook his head. "Let's get back to the facility."
"They need to take a look at his feet." The guard who gave him the jacket pointed at his legs and used his flashlight to take a closer look. He looked down, and saw his feet were bleeding. It looked like sharp stones and small pieces of glass were stuck to his soles. Strange, he didn't even feel the pain.
He didn't care. Why wouldn't they bring him to see his parents? He wanted to leave. One of the doctors had arrived, and he looked annoyed. He felt a stinging sensation as the man abruptly slapped him on the cheek.
Why was the man slapping him again? What did he do?
He woke up, and his hand reached up and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was about to slap his face.
"Jack!"
His vision cleared, and he realized Zoe was straddling him, worry etched on her face. He realized how tightly he was holding her wrist and quickly let go.
"Sorry. Bad dream." He gently grabbed her arm and checked her wrists for any signs of damage.
"You didn't hurt me." Zoe gave him a small smile, and he knew it was her way of trying to comfort him. "But I felt like an iron clamp held my wrist, I can't even pull away."
He sighed in relief. The worst fear he had was accidentally hurting his wife.
"That must have been a bad dream." Zoe snuggled back to his side. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't even know if it was real." He replied. The memory was too vivid to be anything but a dream. To Zoe's credit, she didn't press him further and just hugged him harder. He absently stroked her back, as he continued to process what he had just seen and felt. He felt so helpless, lost, and alone in that dream. What struck him the most, though, was one thing. His parents.
That little boy really wanted to get them back, but it looked like they had already died, and no one bothered to tell his younger self. His upcoming meeting with Zoe's father intrigued him even more. He was sure to press the man for questions. There was now a growing need to solve the mystery of his lost memories.
Zoe Andersen Routh
She had just submitted her leave request for Christmas break, but it felt like the city itself didn't want her and Jack to leave.
First was the traffic. There was a noticeable increase in traffic in the city thanks to several unscheduled road repairs on sections of major thoroughfares, and that was thanks to a recent earthquake. It also damaged key electrical grids in the city, forcing the power company to rotate the power, leaving entire neighborhoods without power for hours at a time.
With the city's grid strained to its limit, power interruptions became common. It was the first time since taking up the post of Captain in Mid-Wilshire that she saw off-duty cops hanging out at the station, thanks to its back-up generators, just to cool off or charge their electronic devices.
An unused conference room had even turned into a sort of daycare with nursing mothers and little children sleeping on the floor, enjoying the cool AC at night. Her senior officers were on top of the situation, though, and she signed off on the request to temporarily provide shelter to cops' families without hesitation. She knew babies and toddlers were especially vulnerable to the hot, humid evenings.
At her house, she barely felt the power interruptions. The system she and Jack invested in automatically kicked in, supplying power to their house without issue. She was proud of their work. She was thankful their AC was powerful since lately she had gotten a bit dizzy with the heat and humidity.
The solar panels had charged enough to completely fill the batteries, and they usually lasted until the next day, even with regular use. When the battery reached a critical point, her state-of-the-art generator would run automatically, providing electricity to the house and charging the batteries at the same time.
She was looking at her closet at the moment, thinking of what outfits she should bring when she felt a pair of hands grope her breasts. With the AC on full power, the house was colder, causing her nipples to harden, poking through her thin spaghetti top. Her husband simply couldn't resist.
"Jack." She briefly closed her eyes as she felt his fingers play with her hardened nubs. "I have to pack."
She was still amazed by Jack's fixation with her breasts, well, in every part of her body, actually. Her breasts were a pretty good size, but not big like those models seen on the TV shows. She once wondered if Jack would want her to get implants, but he had seen the look of disdain on his husband's face when she once switched a channel to a show featuring such women.
They were just fat, and it sometimes made exercising difficult if she did not have the proper clothing with just the right amount of support. When it was hot, the sweat under her breasts was irritating, and she was self-conscious of the smell, but Jack loved her scent there and constantly reassured her that her tits were perfect. She had trouble listening to him speak clearly when he said that, since his mouth was busy with her nipple, lightly biting with his teeth and licking with his tongue.
At home and in total privacy, he basically took her whenever he wanted, and that was often. Having a younger husband was great for sex, but it severely cut down time when it came to things like this. She was basically free use to him, but she also initiated sex whenever she felt the need for some romance.
Showers were fun with Jack, and her breasts and ass were cleaner than they had ever been with how much her husband enjoyed massaging them with soap. He always left a mess inside her, but that was easy to rinse, and she was already used to his cum inside her whenever she got to the station.
She felt the cool air caress her breasts as Jack lifted her top and started massaging her tits. She let him do what he wanted and focused back on making a mental list of what she wanted to pack for the trip, but it was getting difficult with how she started to feel aroused.
Screw it.
She turned around and kissed her husband, and things started heating up even more. Clothes were about to fly when she heard the doorbell ringing.
"Fuck." She heard Jack mutter.
She smirked. She noticed early on in their relationship that she was better at controlling her impulses compared to her husband. "Go check out who is knocking at the gate."
It was late, but their neighborhood was pretty safe.
"It's Liz." Jack reported and showed her the live feed from their CCTV on his phone. "I'm going to see what she wants."
What was she doing here? She started looking for her own phone and realized she must have covered it with the clothes she took out of the closet. She finally found it and saw that she had a couple of missed calls from her friend.
"Thank god." Liz sighed in relief once she entered their home. "Air conditioning. The power was out for a couple of hours now."
"Having trouble sleeping?" She asked. Liz looked like a mess, sweaty with strands of hair sticking to her face. Even at this distance, she could smell the smoke sticking to her friend's clothes.
"You have no idea." The actress replied. "My neighbors decided that it was the right time to cook some barbecue in their backyard. I had my windows open because of the heat. So when the wind shifted direction…"
"You can sleep here." She offered. She remembered that Liz was still in the process of moving in and hadn't gotten around to acquiring a backup generator and power supply.
"Thank you." Liz beamed. "I really hate to impose, but I have a screen test tomorrow."
"Say no more." She replied and turned to her husband, and gave him a look.
"I'll get some fresh sheets for the bed and pillows." Jack answered and quickly headed to their main bedroom.
With a guest in the house, she knew their playful sex would be postponed for later. She brought out her luggage to the living room along with the clothes that she wanted to pack for the trip. Maybe Liz could help her with that since her friend shared her tastes in clothing.
"You're doing what?" She wanted to laugh, but instead settled for exchanging amused looks with Liz. The actress had just showered and looked refreshed in comfortable-looking thin shorts and a sleeveless top.
"Star Wars." Liz repeated.
"That's incredible!" Jack looked excited. "What is it about?"
"It's called Rogue One." Her friend answered.
"You okay, love?" She turned to her husband when he started coughing.
"I'm fine, just surprised." Jack replied. She noticed how excited he was as he turned to Liz once more. Was that a smile on his face? "Whose character are you playing?"
"I'm a rebel called Jynn Erso." Liz grinned, apparently enjoying her husband's enthusiasm. "Lead character too!"
"That's great!" She replied. She was truly happy for her friend, and seeing how she was able to bounce back from that issue with her ex. Now she was getting big offers, not just one or two episode guest appearances on TV shows. "Congratulations Liz!"
She headed to the kitchen to prepare snacks, but when she returned, she found Jack and Liz in a deep discussion about her upcoming role. It looked like her husband was giving her a crash course on the history of Star Wars, the politics of this so-called Galactic Empire, whatever that was, and something called the Death Star. She wasn't a big fan of the genre, but wasn't that the space station Luke Skywalker blew up? She caught strange words as she prepared a late snack for the three of them, all the while hearing strange words from Jack, like Moffs and Khyber Crystals. What was the Tarkin Doctrine?
She took two bottles of beer. Lately, she didn't like their smell and preferred juices, smoothies, and milkshakes instead. Perhaps her acquaintance Sydney Fox was right all along about healthy living.
"Obviously, I'm signed an NDA, and I just told you what time period I'll be in, but it's as if you read the script already!" Liz laughed. "You're really passionate about Star Wars."
"And Star Trek." She added, sitting down next to Jack. She let the two continue, and Liz even gave good suggestions on the outfits she was still undecided about to pack for her trip. Another hour passed, and she and Jack decided to turn in for the night.
"Don't be too loud." Liz gave her a wink.
Willem-Alexander of Orange-Nassau
"What have you found?" He asked his agents. They were inside a secured room deep underground in his estate. This section was completely secret, and it even had a hidden tunnel access so that visits like these went completely undetected.
His family was asleep, resting peacefully in the family suite. Maxima remained silent about his strange behavior, and he knew she had already puzzled things out. To her credit, she waited patiently, confident that he would share his findings with her at the right time.
"We have his complete file, your Majesty." His agent handed him a thick folder.
"Now is not the time for protocol." He told the assembled men and women in front of him. If they kept using his title, they'd be down here all night.
He quickly opened it and started reviewing the information. What struck him first was the picture of Jack Routh. That strong jaw, that sharp nose, and finally, the eyes that were just like his late brother's.
"What about a DNA analysis?" He asked. He needed to be sure before making a move.
"Unfortunately, we have been unable to obtain any." A woman spoke. "And when we sent discreet inquiries, we realized he was under close scrutiny by several American agencies. FBI, their Homeland Security, and even the Intelligence Agency are monitoring his career."
"What for?" He turned to the next page, and he started to review the young man's file. His eyes grew wider and wider, and by the end, he realized his mouth had partially opened in shock.
"All of this is accurate?" He felt sick. The number of times this man had faced danger made him dizzy. Impressive, of course, but if this was true, and he was indeed his brother's son…
"All verified, even that incident in Hawaii." The woman answered.
"So, he's married." He smiled at that. The pretty woman in the photo was older, but it looked like she came from a military background. He narrowed his eyes when he saw her original surname before she changed it. "Andersen?"
"General Andersen's youngest daughter." The woman nodded.
"It's suspicious." His senior aide added. "Was she planted there to keep an eye on him?"
He realized he had crumpled the data sheet in his hand. He hated that name. Some rogue agency of theirs caused the unnecessary deaths of his brother and wife, along with their only son. His family's retaliation was swift and brutal. From economic and political pressure, he demanded justice and made it clear to their state department what he wanted to happen. They cave in immediately.
General Andesen personally submitted the report and, more importantly, the evidence on dismantling the rogue agencies to him. He had also sent independent contractors to bear witness and record the execution of the operation, and he was satisfied… until now.
"Prioritize the DNA samples." He ordered. He needed to be sure before he acted. "That should be done as soon as possible."
"As you wish."
"And I think it's time for a state visit, don't you think?" His mind raced through the possibilities. The G7 summit in Monaco was just around the corner, and he could easily join the European cultural delegation.
He was almost sure this man was his nephew, and must have watched the young man's piano performance a dozen times by now, and even watched old tapes of his brother playing for their parents and extended family. He compared the two videos side by side, and was amazed at what he saw. Same mannerisms, the same smile on their face, and a strong resemblance. Anyone with just a glance could tell the two were related.
The DNA analysis was the key.
Norman Jangus
He didn't know why his superiors were panicking. General Andersen even wanted a full team, the whole works, monitoring his Fairfax county home in Northern Virginia. Then he received the news and realized what had happened.
It looked like the old man was scared Routh would remember something and was taking precautions. Captain Andersen was just visiting her parents and decided to bring her new husband with her for the holidays, a first for her ever since she cut ties with her family and moved to LA. The man was truly paranoid, even if it was just his daughter and her new husband visiting him and his wife. It was a pity, he personally wanted to see the old man's expression when Routh arrived, but another cell was already assigned to the task.
"Sir! We got a hit!" One of his techs announced with a panicked expression.
"What is it?" He asked.
"Routh's file, someone accessed it." His tech reported.
"Why didn't we detect it?" He asked.
"Sir, they had proper security codes, even higher than mine and it came from the Pentagon." He leaned forward, intrigued at what he heard. He thought the focus on Routh would blow over by Christmas.
Well, it wasn't his problem if someone higher up decided to take a closer look. That was above his pay grade anyway and he had other matters to worry about. Several foreign agents were already in place in Monaco, and he needed to keep tabs on them ahead of the meeting of several heads of state and their delegations.
"Give him hell, Routh." He whispered and headed back to his temporary office.
Jack Routh
He hated flying, but he needed the answers, and it seemed like his wife's father could provide that. Zoe had booked them a couple of business class tickets, and there really wasn't any other choice since they both needed the leg space. With Zoe nearly standing tall with her 5 foot 10 inches and him with his height and bulk, he knew they would both suffer in economy.
He also felt vulnerable without a concealed weapon on his person. They were traveling for personal reasons, and couldn't bring their backup pieces on the flight, since they needed to attend the law enforcement officers flying armed program to do that. Those were only offered to federal agencies to begin with, but he wondered if he would be able to participate in that program if he accepted that consultant role with the FBI.
The flight went smoothly, and surprisingly, he was able to catch a few hours of sleep. Perhaps an all-night of sex was the answer he was searching for, since his wife was able to sleep for most of the flight and only woke up for meal time. They had a layover in Chicago, and then the final leg where they landed at the Ronald Regan Washington National Airport.
Zoe didn't want to rely on an Uber, and instead headed to a rental to get a car for the duration of their visit.
"It's not a popular here compared to New York or Los Angeles." His wife explained.
She had chosen a black Camry this time, and he liked the leg room on the passenger seat. They arrived at the Fairmont hotel a bit late and quickly settled down once they got to their rooms. Zoe looked a bit nervous, and he wrapped her in a hug to comfort her.
"We'll be meeting your brother first?" He asked.
"And his wife and my niece Freya." Zoe answered. "It's the first time I'll meet her."
"I'm sure she'll love the gift." Zoe got the two year old a nice dollhouse set, and it was big, pretty much taking half of his luggage space. Luckily, he always packed light and didn't have any problems fitting the gift in.
As dinner approached, he wore the clothes he used in New York. Zoe seemed to like it and even took a couple of pictures.
"It's for the girls." She explained. "It's so rare to see you wearing clothes this nice."
"It's practical for this weather." He answered and tugged his dark gray coat tighter. Zoe fixed their tie, and they met Zoe's brother in the lobby.
"Zoe!" Wes gave her a warm greeting, and he stood back, calmly watching the family reunion. He saw the smile on his wife's face as she greeted her niece for the very first time.
"I'm your Aunt Zoe." His wife grinned at the shy two year old girl who was being carried by her mother. "We talked on video call a few times, remember?"
"She's just shy." Wes' wife Juman explained.
"And this is Jack." Zoe gestured to him, and he stepped forward to stand beside her.
"You're bigger in person." Wes observed and offered a friendly handshake which he immediately took.
Dinner went fine, with Zoe even trying to entertain her niece as the two siblings caught up. He and Juman had their own conversation with light topics, the woman mostly asking about his life on the West Coast. The food served had a decent portion, though their waiter was unusually attentive to their table and even replaced his glass of water with a new one.
The mood changed when the topic shifted to their spouses' parents. Thankfully, Freya was already asleep by that point in her stroller beside their table.
"I'll visit mom first." Zoe shared. "Then I'll go to the old house in Fairfax County."
"Mom won't be happy." Wes looked uncomfortable. "She's expecting you to arrive for a late brunch."
"Well, tough. I didn't fly over here for her." Zoe replied. "We came here for dad."
"He's still the same." Zoe's brother shrugged. "Busy with his career and his legacy. He's retiring in January. The first four-star general in two decades. He's really proud of that."
They left early the next morning and headed to the Columbia Gardens Cemetery, and he even got a bouquet that he found at a flower shop when he went out that morning to explore and jog. Zoe seemed to like his choice of white chrysanthemums and pink carnations and even earned a kiss on his cheek as a reward for his effort.
"I intended to pass by a flower shop on the way to mom's grave." Zoe smiled and admired the soft petals. "Thanks, honey. This saved us a lot of time."
"We're in no rush." He replied.
Zoe stayed in front of her mother's grave for over an hour, just sitting there in front of the grave stone. He kept a respectful distance and admired the peaceful environment of the place.
He saw Zoe beckon to him, and he moved closer to her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he placed his arm on her back. The wind picked up, and dry leaves flew around them from the trees, including the ones scattered on the grass.
They remained there for a few more minutes and then headed back to their parked rental. He watched the scenery, noticing as the scenery changed. It was quite beautiful with the changing colors of the trees in preparation for winter. They headed to a nice neighborhood, and even he was surprised at the size of the houses.
"Fairfax County." Zoe stated. "This is where most of the generals and politicians live."
Every street could be in a magazine. The area spoke of wealth and elegance from numerous Colonial to Victorian-style houses sitting on large tracts of land. After a few turns on the street, they arrived at the end of a cul-de-sac where three large houses surrounded it in the distance. In the middle stood a large Colonial-style house with white walls and a dark blue roof. It had a large porch and an American flag hanging outside the wall, a sign that whoever lived in the house had a family member serving in the armed forces.
"This is where you grew up?" He asked.
"Until Dartmouth." Zoe replied. "After that, I only stayed for a night or two whenever I visited. I left as soon as I could."
It looked like someone was in the middle of replacing street bulbs on the street. He spotted a utility van parked near the corner with a man on a ladder replacing a street light while another man in a vest stood at the base of the ladder.
As they headed closer to the house, he spotted an older man waiting by the porch wearing a simple collared shirt tucked into his beige pants.
He was tall, around his height, but had a slimmer build. His back was straight, and his eyes were sharp. His hair was turning gray, and he wore a reserved look, but that softened once his wife stepped out of the car.
"Baby Zoe." The man greeted his wife with his arms raised, ready for a hug.
Zoe stepped forward to accept the hug, but it didn't last long, though her father gave a quick kiss on her scalp, he let go.
"Dad." Zoe greeted him back.
"It's good that you're finally here." The older man replied with a small smile. "Come in, both of you. Melissa's eager to see you and was up all morning preparing a roast."
"Haven't changed much." Zoe noted as she looked around the hallway. He could see pictures hung on wall, and he spotted a younger version of his wife in a few of them. One caught his attention, it was Zoe in her teens, riding a horse while wearing an equestrian's outfit, complete with the black helmet.
"She won that year." Zoe's father stood next to him and extended a hand in greeting. "General Melver Leonard Anderson."
"Jack Routh." He replied, and easily ignored the tightening handshake and gave the man a look.
"You taking good care of my baby girl?" The man asked, staring straight in his eyes.
"Dad…" He heard Zoe complain, but he didn't look away from the man's gaze.
"I'm taking good care of her." He replied. "But your daughter's a capable woman."
"I know that." Melver Anderson finally stopped staring at him and gestured to the dining room. "Let's head to the dining room. Melissa's waiting."
Zoe's step mother gave a pleasant smile at first when she first saw them. She was welcoming enough, and even prepared what looked like a nice meal with roasted turkey for them. Then came the snide remarks while they were eating their meal.
"He's not very talkative, is he?" Melissa observed after he gave another short answer to one of his questions.
"Jack's a private person." Zoe explained. "Thank you for preparing all of these for us."
"Of course, Zoe." Melissa smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "I would have invited you to help prepare it for me this morning, but I'm sure you have something more important to do than visit us today."
"I mean, I know you couldn't cook to save your life. You remember that cake you tried to make? Your father had to replace the batteries on the smoke alarms." Melissa laughed and turned to him. "Do you cook, Jack?"
"We both do." He replied.
"You don't have to cover up for her. It's just us you're talking to!" The older brunette smiled. "I have to admit I never expected Zoe to marry a younger man after Gerard. You're her subordinate, right? Was there any scandal when your affair happened?"
He had to admire her way of giving back-handed compliments, and he was starting to understand Zoe's frustration. And her father, it seemed like he didn't care at all as he continued eating his portion of the turkey while keeping an eye on him. Noticing Zoe's clenched fist below the table, and decided to break the tension.
"She wanted me for my body." He quipped. He had timed it right too, as Zoe's father started coughing and spat out some wine on his shirt. Melissa stood up and started to pat the older man's back as he coughed. It looked like the wine went into the wrong pipe.
"Jack!" Zoe stared at him with wide eyes.
"What?" He stared back. "You know it's true. You can't get enough of me, like I can't get enough of you and your body."
Zoe's father coughed further upon hearing that.
"I'm going to get some extra napkins." Melissa announced and left the dining room. The older woman looked scandalized and had a faint blush on her cheeks.
"A gentleman and an officer usually do not bring up such topics in polite company." Melver gave him a pointed look once he recovered from his coughing fit.
He had enough of this farce. He wanted answers, and it looked like Zoe was running out of patience as well.
"Polite?" He shook his head. "Polite, like how you called in hidden bodyguards because of our visit?"
The man immediately froze, and Zoe gave him a questioning look.
"How did you know?" The older man asked. He could see how tense Zoe's father was at that moment.
"The two utility workers changing the street light at the end of the street." He revealed. "Nobody works this early during the holiday season, and they wore a jumper and a sweater beneath their high-viz vest. Any working man knows to wear durable clothes during work hours, not wool. They wore loose, comfortable clothes, perfect for hours of surveillance operation inside a van and ideal to conceal any hidden weapons."
"Is that true, dad?" Zoe stared at her father.
"And ever since we got here, you refused to turn your back on me." He added, staring at the now stoic general. "Arriving here, you were already waiting out on the porch, and with what you're wearing, it will be impractical to stay out for too long in this weather. Either you really had timing or someone informed you from down the road, like that work van."
Melver Anderson took a deep breath and leaned back on his chair.
"It was just a precaution." He admitted. "You're more observant than what your file said you'd be."
"Precaution for what?" Zoe asked.
"You don't know what kind of man you married, Zoe." Melver shook his head. "I had to be sure."
"I know what kind of man my husband is." His wife answered. "We're just looking for some answers about his past, one that you claimed is too dangerous to discuss over the phone."
"Then let's head to my study." Melver gave him a long look. "You don't appear to be mentally unstable or suddenly have a psychotic episode, so I'll have to put some trust in my daughter's judgment."
"Psychotic episode?" He shared a look with Zoe.
"Follow me into my study." Melver replied. "Melissa! We're going to the study!"
"But what about our meal?" Melissa asked from the kitchen. The woman was using her phone instead of looking for napkins.
"This can't wait." For the first time, Zoe's father showed his back to him as he led them to his study.
It was a nice room, with a head of a stag mounted above the fireplace. Several medals were displayed on a nearby shelf along with several books, some he was even intrigued by the titles, while TV screen stood on top of it. The dark mahogany desk was impressive, and on it a beautifully crafted Humidor, an old school phone, and a bottle of expensive whiskey.
The man himself closed the thick double doors behind them and gestured for them to sit as he walked around the table and sat on his leather chair.
"What do you remember?" Melver asked.
"Just bits and pieces." He answered. "I have no clear memory before college, only snippets of when I was younger, and it wasn't… pleasant."
"I bet." Melver answered. "I only read the briefings, and even that gave me pause, even with all the… problems I encountered in my long career in the military."
"What happened to him, dad?" Zoe pleaded.
Her father took a deep breath and stared at him. "You're a government experiment, used by a rogue department of the Central Intelligence Agency."
"What?" He suddenly felt cold.
"Your family was attacked by mistake, a complete failure of our intelligence agencies. The car they were after that contained the targets had the same car model, color, and near similar license plates." Melver revealed. He looked uncomfortable, and he was taken aback at the look of pity the older man gave him. "Your parents died, but you somehow survived. But then, some of the scientists discovered you were a perfect candidate for their ongoing program, operation Outcome."
"They wanted better field operatives. Resistance to pain, increased cognitive skills, better reflexes, and improved musculature. That was the purpose of Operation Outcome."
Outcome. He had heard that word before in his memories. He remembered a blue car and a woman looking back at him in the back seat from time to time with a smile on her face as they drove down a dark road.
"You have R-null blood." Melver revealed. "I don't the specifics, but that meant you were susceptible to certain viruses. Operation Outcome relied on modifying an agent's system, and with your blood, it helped the researchers in designing a virus that will alter their genetic structure."
Fuck. He was some kind of genetic experiment. He shivered, unable to look at his wife, and stared off into the distance. He was a god damned freak.
"According to the reports, they tried testing several experiments on you. You nearly died several times, even declared dead for over a minute, but you miraculously survived every time." Melver poured whiskey into his glass and took a drink. He wanted one too, but he was too numb to speak. "They noticed a change in you, and so those bastards tested a previous conditioning on you to see the result of two training programs mixed together."
"What… what programs?" He heard Zoe's voice, but it was weak. She sounded like she was trying not to cry but was failing.
"Treadstone." Her father answered. "You're not familiar with that, but Jason Bourne came from that program."
"The rogue CIA agent?" His wife asked.
"That's him." Melver answered. "Treadstone used experimental techniques to break down a recruit's personality and moral code. They're trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat, shooting, explosives, the whole nine yards. The side effect of the Treadstone caused amnesia, hallucination, psychological trauma, and severe mental breakdowns on its agents."
"You were not immune to that." Melver addressed him. "They shouldn't have done that to hardened men and women, and you, a teen by that point, stood no chance. In the end, they deemed it a failure since any training with you didn't stick. You suffered too much and were barely responsive by that point in your time in that program. You were only valuable because of your blood."
"I tell you, son, nobody, even my enemies, should suffer the fate that you experienced." He felt a hand holding his, and he clutched it like his life depended on it.
"How… how did I escape that?" He finally found his voice.
"Your parents." Melver answered. "They killed the wrong people. Apparently, your father was part of a powerful family in Europe. They used all their resources and applied considerable pressure to the administration to clean up. It took a while, but we finally did it and found you."
"We took you in, and the doctors determined that your permanent amnesia was better for you. You started to improve, and by seventeen, you were deemed safe enough to get back to society. The country owes you that at least for what you had suffered."
"How long?" He stared at Melver. "How long was I stuck in there?"
"Ten years of hell, son." The general answered.
"Jack." Zoe stood up from his chair and hugged him tight. He could feel her tears falling down his cheek. He felt terrible for his counterpart in this world. He couldn't imagine going through that and enduring it for so long.
"That's why I had to take precautions." Melver looked apologetic for a moment. "I didn't know if you still suffered any after effects from what you went through."
He was about to ask about his parents when the phone on the desk rang.
The older man looked worried and answered it. He watched as Melver's face showed surprise, shock and then resignation.
"I understand. Yes, I'm taking care of it. No, I'll make sure he understands it wasn't our fault. I'll call you back."
The older man looked resigned and gave a sigh. "Looks like the cat's out of the bag." Melver took a remote from the drawer of the desk and turned on the TV screen.
The screen blared to life, showing a female anchor from FOX News.
"And in a surprise announcement from the Royal family of the Netherlands, they announce the discovery of a newly discovered relative, long thought dead." The anchor stated. "Willem-Alexander of Orange-Nassau, King of the Netherlands, announced in parliament just this morning that the son of his late brother, Claus, is still alive and living in America, unaware of his royal lineage."
He watched as his face suddenly filled half the screen. The reporter looked excited, barely hiding her eagerness as she continued to deliver her report.
"This is Jack Routh, an orphan, serving the Los Angeles Police Department for a year now. You may also know him as Sugar, a talented musician and songwriter who has gained a massive following and often collaborated with global pop star, Taylor Swift."
His phone started buzzing, followed by Zoe's. They both ignored it, and gave each other wide-eyed looks He was a royal? Oh shit.
"If I remember correctly, he was the one who stopped the school shooting and nearly died." The male anchor added. "A hero cop, a hidden prince. How will that affect his job at the LAPD?"
"A good question, Pete." The blonde news presenter nodded. "Obviously, he's still an American Citizen, but this would of course, change the dynamics between our government and the Netherlands in some way."
"And Jack's mother, Ella, is from the Mounbatten family, an old aristocratic family that is related to the current British Royal Family."
"A real prince charming, Megyn." The man named Pete smiled. "How did they end up in the States?"
"This is where it gets intriguing." Megyn revealed. "Apparently, the two fell in love and ran away to the States to live a new life with their son. They passed away tragically, and the son was lost in the system. In a strange twist of fate, it was Queen Maxima, King Willem-Alexander's wife, who made the discovery after Jack was assigned as part of her security during a visit to the city. She noticed that he had a passing resemblance to the king's younger brother and investigated."
"They even have DNA results to prove it." Pete added. "So the next question is… what's next for the hidden royal, Jack Routh? Or by his original name, Jacques-Henry?"
"Up next is a special story about the House of Orange-Nassau, rumored to be one of the richest families, rivaling the Rothschilds and the Rockefellers. We'll be back shortly after this commercial break."
The TV was turned off, and he looked back at Zoe's father. He looked older, looking defeated with his shoulder slumped and head bowed.
"They're going to have to ask me to step down after this." The older man shared. "It was under my watch that this happened."
"Dad…"
He tuned that out. He finally had a name and face to his parents. His mother was called Ella. He didn't need any history lesson, anyone with a love of ancient and modern history would know about Orange-Nassau. They had a bloody past, but they advanced the economy of the modern world through the Dutch East India Company.
His phone continued to vibrate in his pocket, and it was getting annoying. He needed to sort out his head.
"I'm going for a walk." He stood up.
"Let's go." Zoe nodded and led him outside. "We'll be back, Dad… and thank you."
They walked down the road, his foot occasionally crunching a dried, fallen leaf that blew over to the road. Zoe walked right beside him, matching his stride as she clutched his right hand close to her. The wave of information was too much, from finding out about his horrible past to learning he still had living relatives, royals at that.
"This doesn't change anything for us." Zoe told him. "I'm still your wife. You're my loving, protective husband."
His wife let out a gasp as he suddenly stopped and engulfed her in a hug. He took the familiar scent of her hair, her warmth, and felt her hands rubbing his back. He should be raging by now, cussing the world for what happened to him, but Zoe's presence soothed the raging emotions within him.
Zoe's father was right, it was better not to recover those lost memories, since even a small memory from a dream rattled him days ago. At least now, he knew what had happened to him and his parents.
"I really don't know what I'd do without you." He murmured in her hair. Strands tickled his nose, but he didn't mind.
"Probably seducing another woman in authority." He heard Zoe's muffled reply and smiled. They walked further down the road in silence.
"So what do we do now?" Zoe asked once they reached the end of the road.
"I'm still Jack Routh, your husband and a police officer." He replied. "We take things one step at a time, but we're not moving to Europe."
"Good."
"But we have to brush up on your French." He added. French lessons with Zoe were enjoyable, and he even made a game out of it at times with sex. He would stop pleasuring her with his cock or mouth until she gave the correct answer to his questions in French. His wife could now cuss in French like a native. Now they needed to work on German, and he had to study the Dutch language too.
"What for?" Zoe asked, her cheeks turned pink, and he knew it wasn't from the cold. He knew what she was thinking, since their last French lesson involved him eating her out.
"Well, I met your family. You're going to meet mine in the near future."
"Merde." He was so proud.
Calvin Ellis
The error sound blared out, causing Bradford to curse and drop his tools. He chuckled and pressed a button to reset the simulation.
"Not so easy as it looks, right, Bradford?" He grinned. Bradford was well known to Metro. He had been invited several times to join them, but the man had refused again and again, with the lame excuse that patrol work did more for the community.
They all did patrol for a week once a month. Their hot captain insisted, and he agreed. It was nice to get out to interact with the public, but his true passion lies with explosives. Tim was now willing, and even signed up for the new program that allowed certain metro units to report to the surrounding stations on a day-to-day basis.
Tim passed the evaluations easily, but now he had to go through his course. The red alarms blared again, causing him to reset the system.
"I thought you'd break Routh's record?" He asked.
"Shut up! Can you lower the noise?" Tim complained.
"No can do." He answered. "You have to learn to focus despite the distractions."
Bradford's times were getting longer, and it looked like he needed a break. He cut off the loud music and the flashing lights, causing his trainee to look up.
"Take five." He ordered. "You're getting frustrated."
"You're right." Tim took off the blast-resistant vest and helmet, followed by the gloves and earpiece. He remembered another trainee, one who breezed through the explosives course. Jack Routh still held the record, and even now, he was amazed at how fast the rookie cop took to his lessons, both theoretical and practical.
If he weren't so good with a gun and unarmed combat, he would have endorsed him to join the bomb squad. The man had a ridiculous memory and an impressive eye for detail. Rarely made the same mistake twice, and he even learned to adopt the rookie's Assumptions Kill mantra.
Never guess, always be sure. Those Hollywood movies, showing scenes with actors facing time pressure, and guessing what colored wire to cut, was completely stupid, in his professional opinion. It made his department look like amateurs and he fought everyday to get rid of that stigma. They never guessed, he knew how to safely and efficiently disarm a bomb or an I.E.D.
He headed to the break room and found Tim eating a granola bar. There were several officers, too, and all of them were staring at the tiny TV in the corner.
"What's up?" He asked.
"Look! Routh's apparently a long-lost prince." One of his men announced.
A prince? He rolled his eyes in amusement, but no one laughed. He looked around and realized the man wasn't joking. "Turn that up."
"Yes, sergeant."
He sat beside Tim and stared at the news channel. The tag line in the red banner showed the title, missing royal, and above it, a picture of Routh. What the fuck?
"He's technically not a prince." One old man explained to a news anchor.
"But he has royal blood, yes?"
"He is the king's nephew." The old man explained. "Dutch law makes a distinction between the Royal family and the rest of the royals since he's not in the line of succession."
"Sounds like a prince to me." One of the news anchors made a comment, causing everyone at the table to laugh. The old man gave a smile too.
"So what does this mean to the current administration?" One of the guests of the show asked.
"It's a slap to the face." The old man answered. "It just shows how weak and inefficient our institutions are, to allow a young boy to get lost in the system, and it's happening regularly with the lack of budget allocated to social services. Frankly, I'm amazed at how he turned out."
"Oh, we're all amazed too, with that face and body." One of the women quipped, causing he other to giggle. The TV screen briefly showed a picture of Routh on a beach, shirtless with wet hair and carrying a surfboard. It must have been when he went to Hawaii during the time his wife's division won that trip.
"But have you heard him sing? That voice… ughhh!"
"Not in person." Another woman complained, this one fanning her face with a piece of folded paper. "I mean, the man's so elusive! And it's just his hobby."
"So, will he be one of America's most eligible bachelors with his lineage?"
"I'm afraid to say, Jack Routh doesn't qualify. He's already married."
"No!"
"To Taylor?" One of the women gasped in shock.
It wasn't fair, Metro couldn't participate on that contest for Hawaii. No matter, his vacation was up soon, and he was heading to Puerto Rico for two weeks.
"Angela." It looked like Tim was talking to one of his friends from Mid-Wilshire. He remembered Routh telling him that his FTO had that name and had the skills and attitude to join Metro. Last he heard, the feisty Latina he had sometimes seen visit Routh in their station here in Rampart had become a detective. She had good marksmanship skills too. During the one time he saw her in their own gun range and had an impressive performance, all the way to rifles. The woman knew her weapon systems inside and out and how to use them.
Pity. He had learned to value Routh's assessments, and he knew the large man was not easily impressed. If he says an officer had the required skills, it means they were really good, and they needed better recruits more than ever.
"Yes, I'm watching the news. Why are you calling me?" Tim complained. "I don't care if Jack's a Kennedy or whatever. What do you mean you couldn't contact him? Calm down."
"Look." He watched in amusement as Bradford took a deep breath and tried to calm down Lopez. "He's probably not answering, not with his face plastered on national TV at every major news channel. He'll reach out to you soon, I promise."
He nodded in approval. Tim had a level head, now he needed to use that when defusing a mock-up bomb.
"Let's go, Bradford. We can do three more simulations before your shift ends for today." He called out to his trainee.
"Yes, Sergeant."
Angela Lopez
She thought this year's last hurrah was the messy business with Alex Montel. It looked like 2018 was not done, and it decided to release one more event, one that truly caught her off guard. Her former boot was a what now?
Jack was a prince. A real prince of Royal blood, one that can trace his lineage for several hundred years, whose ancestors played key parts in the world's most pivotal moments that led to what it is today.
Damn. And now Jack wasn't answering. She didn't know why she started calling him as soon as she saw his picture plastered on the TV. This was big, real big. Nothing attracted more attention than politics, and it looked like Jack was being used by both sides.
He was a hero, some say he was a symbol of oppression. Pundits can't seem to decide how to label Jack. Was he a patriot? An activist? Several agencies were digging through his financials with a fine-tooth comb, revealing the extent of his donations. Her cousin Camille was pissed, and complained to her that her phone hadn't stopped ringing since the news of Jack's past was revealed nationwide.
If there was one thing the public loved more than a celebrity scandal, it was a political scandal, and Jack was smack in the middle of it. He even checked all the boxes. He was a celebrity, a decorated police officer, an orphan past and now a royal lineage. The media was blowing it up, and her rookie was blowing up magnitudes more than when he saved Taylor Swift from kidnapping. His name was now being spoken by nearly everyone in the city.
Her phone rang, and he hoped it was Jack, but it turned out it was someone equally famous.
"Hi, Taylor." She held a sign for Wesley to lower the volume on the TV so that she could hear the pop star clearly. It isn't every day a celebrity of her caliber calls her after all.
"Angela, thank God." Taylor seemed breathless. "Have you managed to talk to Jack?"
"Unfortunately, no." She answered. "His phone just keeps on ringing. Zoe's too. They're not answering at the moment."
"I see. I tried calling him as well." The pop star shared. "Anyway, if you manage to talk to him, tell him I can send one of my Jets to fly him back if he wants. I know how difficult it must be for him right now."
Jets? As in plural? She focused back on the topic. "That's very generous, Taylor. I'll be sure to tell them."
"It just finished maintenance in Baltimore anyway." Taylor continued speaking. "Just tell Jack to contact me if he needs it."
"Will do."
"Can't wait for our prince to come back home! Thanks, Angela!" Taylor giggled and ended the call.
That was the royal factor. Even a global celebrity couldn't help but feel amazed by Jack newly revealed history. She was worried for her rookie and wondered how he was coping with all this national attention. She remembered the captain was there and relaxed a bit. With those two together, she was confident they would be able to overcome any issues. She sent a text message relaying Taylor's offer, hoping that Jack would finally get around to checking his phone.
She focused back on the TV since Wesley increased the volume once more and started switching channels. Nearly every news network was talking about Jack, even the BBC. They were trying to trace his connection with the sitting Windsors and his mother. The picture showed a beautiful woman, and she had no trouble believing a prince would run away with her and elope. She could see that he shared the exact shade of hair, along with those beautiful eyes.
"This changes things." Wesley observed. "Jack's publicly acknowledged familial connection by the King himself will open new opportunities for him."
"How so?" She asked.
"It's the only thing old family crap cared for, along with those trust fund babies." Wesley answered. "Legacy."
"Aren't you a trust fund baby yourself?" She gave her boyfriend a look.
"Really?"
"Sorry." She could see how serious Wes was, judging by his demeanor. Wesley came from old money, but was not at the level of the Kennedys or the Rockefellers in terms of wealth and influence. They still had generational wealth, though, and she felt that her comment was quite accurate. "What was the last part? Legacy?"
"Not just that, being a Royal changes things. People will literally throw money at you so that you can be at their parties. Of course, they use the more polite term, and call it a charitable donation for some generic cause."
"And the older and more relevant your past is, the more attractive they are to the people that care about that."
"And that means the majority of the people." She noted.
"And his family is practically connected to almost all the royal families in Europe on both sides." Wesley explained. "His actions will be closely scrutinized from now on."
Robin Scherbatsky
The day sucked.
She was enjoying her job and had just settled in the city, and now, Corporate reassigned her to their Baltimore branch to cover for their reporter who had just given birth. It was a temporary one-month gig, and she had to settle for it since she really didn't have any other choice. It was unfair, their ratings were slowly climbing up, viewership had increased, and she worked hard for that. Instead of enjoying her success, they exiled her to this sleepy city with nothing to do except to cover the occasional political scandal or the latest extramarital affair from one of the senators or congressmen.
Things were much more exciting in New York City. She missed the city, and she missed her friends. She heard Ted was seeing someone now thanks to Lily, and she realized how easy it was for him to get over their relationship.
Her camera crew was having lunch somewhere, and they didn't even bother to invite her, so she decided to have lunch at a local diner. If there was one thing she could like about Baltimore, it was their crab cakes.
The diner was half full and all of the cozy booths were occupied, but she spotted an empty table near the corner and headed there. She gave a quick glance at her fellow diners while she waited for the waitress to bring her menu.
Thoughts of crab cakes left her head when she spotted a handsome man sitting across from her. He was sitting alone, and she was immediately captivated by his appearance. Tall, broad-shouldered, and damn, those cheeks and chin. Wow, this Baltimore assignment was starting to look up. She fixed her hair and checked her reflection with her pocket mirror to make sure her teeth were clean and her lipstick was still perfect. She needed to make a good first impression.
She was about to approach him when another woman arrived from the restroom and sat beside him. It was then that she noticed the two plates, two coffee cups, and the rings on their fingers. She moved back, disappointed. And there she thought she would finally find the right guy after breaking up with Ted, but this one was taken too.
Why were all the good ones taken? The woman was pretty, a bit older than her, but she knew the guy was younger. He still had that youthful look and presence about him, but why did his face look so familiar? Was he an actor? A model perhaps?
"What will you have, dear?" A waitress approached her table with a menu.
"A crab cake platter, please, with orange juice." She replied.
"Coming right up."
Still bitter about finding a guy and seeing he was already taken, she fished out her phone from her pocket and started scrolling through the news. It looked like the story with that L.A. cop, Jack Routh was still going strong. This time, they were focusing on his accomplishments in his service to the city of Los Angeles. School shootings, stopping rampaging cars, the man's record was impressive, and he did it all on his rookie year as a cop.
It was crazy. The news broke out this morning, and it was still a hot topic, and it was already noon. She once more admired the photos of him in Hawaii, and she slowly realized why the man for earlier looked so familiar. It was him! Jack Routh!
She was starting to panic, and she realized she needed to do something, fast. She could not let this opportunity get away from her. What would be her approach? Just barge right in and hold a recorder to his face? No. That was rude, and she wasn't brought up that way by her father. No, she was a Canadian, and they were a polite people except for hockey season. She took a deep breath and stood up, and headed to their table. Here we go.
"Hi." She carefully adjusted her voice so that she wouldn't be overheard. "I'm Robin Scherbatsky, a reporter from Metro News 1 in New York. I know it's a bit rude of me, but could I bother you for an interview after you're done eating?"
She watched as the couple exchanged looks and communicated in a way only people in love do with their eyes, like with Lily and Marshall. She felt a bit of jealousy seeing that, reminding her of how alone she was right now.
"Why don't you join us?" The woman invited her. "We can talk more casually over breakfast."
"Of course. Thank you." She felt elated. Her approach worked!
There was a lot of space on the booth, and the waitress arrived with her order and didn't even comment on her switching tables.
She allowed the couple to eat first, and she started on her own food, realizing how hungry she was at that moment.
"So where's your crew?" Jack Routh asked her once she had finished one of the two crab cakes.
"I've just been reassigned here from New York to cover for another reporter." She explained. "Haven't gotten close to them yet."
"I think I saw you on TV before when I was in New York." Routh shared. "It was late, around one am, and you were interviewing that author."
"Oh." Shit. That was the time she kept saying but, um. "It's complicated."
"It was entertaining." He smiled. At that moment, she was struck at how he looked even more gorgeous up close. It took her a moment to compose herself and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
"I was making a point to my friend." She explained. "They made fun of me for saying but, um, and turned it into a drinking game whenever I said it."
"So you decided to teach them a lesson instead." Jack Routh laughed. His pretty wife also smiled and gave her an approving nod.
"So, can we start with the interview?" She asked once they finished their food and paid the bill. "And do you mind if I record it with my phone?"
"Sure." Routh shrugged. "I never participated in an official one, so this will be my first."
"Really?" She was amazed at her luck. She would be the first one to interview him?
"But maybe we can find a better location?" His wife suggested.
She had to agree with that. They would certainly attract unwanted attention and decided to head to a nearby park. She noticed how relaxed and down-to-earth the two were and how easy it was to talk to them. She realized they weren't putting up an act, they were just being themselves. It was a refreshing change from what she was used to.
The setup was simple, and they sat under a tree. Routh took off his coat and spread it on the ground, allowing him to sit on the grass with his wife. Luckily, she had her bag with her that contained an emergency shirt, and used it as her own blanket.
She set up her camera to start recording with Routh in the middle, his wife sitting close to him, while she sat a bit further away. It was like they were having a picnic.
"We're recording." She announced. "Good afternoon, I'm Robin Scherbatscky of Metro News One. Today, we have as our guest, Jack Routh, and his wife, Zoe. First question, Jack, why did you agree to the interview?"
"You were polite and considerate." Routh answered. "You even waited for us to finish our meal."
"Thank you." She smiled. The interview was off to a great start. "What are you doing here on the other side of the country?"
"We were visiting my wife's family." Routh wrapped a hand around Zoe's waist, and the brunette leaned closer to her husband, showing how affectionate they were to the world.
"Were you aware of your secret lineage before the news broke out?" She asked.
"No." Routh answered. "I just learned about it when the news broke out on TV."
"We were surprised like you were." Zoe spoke this time. "It made my family reunion more… interesting."
"So how do we address you now?"
"Just Jack, or Officer Routh, when I'm on duty. I'm not part of the Dutch Royal family, and so the titles and honorifics do not apply to me, I just share their blood." She realized that the man was natural in front of the camera. Charming and eloquent, she barely had to work at all and cover for him.
"So what are your plans moving forward?"
"The same." Jack replied. "I do my job, serve the city, and protect the public."
She hated to do this, but she had to ask the tough questions too. "Doesn't it complicate things for you working in such a dangerous job? And what about your legal identity? Some may argue that your true name is Jacques, not Jack."
"I got lost in the system." He replied. "But to me, my current name and identity are my legal ones, and I'm going to keep using them. And about my work as a police officer and the dangers I face, I can say the same things as other professions. We still do it because we love our work."
"Last question." She turned to two of them. "What will you do if your family contacts you and wants to meet you?"
"I'll receive them with courtesy and respect. They are my relatives." He replied.
"And that's it for my interview with Jack and Zoe Routh. I'm Robin Scheratsky, Metro News One."
She stood up and headed to her phone, and stopped the recording.
"That was perfect, thank you for allowing me to do this interview." She told the couple.
"You're welcome." Jack looked satisfied.
"That was an excellent interview actually," Zoe added. "For your first-ever media interview, that was as good as it can get."
She quickly sent the file to her station manager in New York. She couldn't wait to have it shown on air.
With her Camera crew still not present, she decided to stick around the couple and learned they were just trying to wait for their flight back to L.A.
"You should visit L.A." Jack suggested. "With the upcoming Olympics, there's plenty of job opportunities in the area."
She never thought about that. West Coast. California. Sunshine and Hollywood. "I'll consider it."
"A friend let us use her private jet to fly straight back." Jack revealed when she asked how they would avoid the press.
"I really owe Taylor one."
Whoa. He meant Taylor Swift. She bid farewell to the couple as they left their hotel, having formed a positive impression on them since hanging out with them for the past couple of hours. Before their hotel car left the driveway, her phone started ringing. She looked at the caller ID and realized it was her station manager in New York.
"Did you get it?" She asked.
"Of course I did! Head to TV now! It's being shown on national!" National? Her eyes widened in shock. Her face would be shown and not just in New York City and the surrounding suburbs, but the entire country.
"How did you do it?" Her station manager asked, and she noticed that his voice was still breathless from excitement. "Don't you know how difficult it is to even track that guy?"
"I got lucky." She started messaging her group chat, she wanted them to see this life-changing moment for her. With that done, she rushed back inside the hotel since she remembered seeing a TV there playing football games behind the bar.
She arrived at the bar just as the footage switched. A banner was being displayed at the bottom with the words BREAKING NEWS. People inside the bar turned to the TV, and conversation slowed to a trickle as they focused on America's hottest story at the moment. A moment later, the footage she shot earlier with her phone started playing out, and her smile grew bigger.
She had made it.
John Nolan
Night shifts. Before, he hated it, but now he was slowly adjusting to it, and all it took was a supportive wife. He and Grace had timed it in a way that their shifts were nearly similar, and he would pick her up in the hospital and sleep for the day.
They would both then switch back to a day shift, and somehow, they were making it work.
Right now, he was at the scene of a horrific car crash. A man was being tended to by an EMT while he took photos of the scene. A blackout had happened, causing the traffic lights to turn off, and that resulted in numerous vehicular accidents like this one.
Movement from his periphery caught his attention, and he realized one of the onlookers had managed to move past the police line.
"Hey! You!" He called out to the smaller man holding up a cheap camcorder. "Get back there before I charge you with obstruction!"
"I'm Lou Bloom, Video Production News." The man had the gall to stick his camera right up to his face.
He moved the camera aside and gave a stern warning to the man. "Final warning, move back behind the tape or I'll have to arrest you."
"Of course, Officer." The man merely smiled and slowly backed up and turned his camera toward the injured driver. What the hell was wrong with that guy?
He kept an eye on him as he waited for reinforcements to properly secure the scene. As he feared, the man started inching towards the injured driver, who the EMTs were in the process of transporting to the ambulance.
"Move it." He shoved the man to the side as he was in the way of the EMTs.
"I'm a lawfully abiding citizen, Officer. I was standing behind the tape." Lou Bloom proclaimed. "Can you tell me if this is a DUI?"
"I'm not at liberty to speak at this moment." The captain had warned him about reporters like that, able to twist their statements to suit their narratives.
Bloom merely smiled and headed back to his beat-up car, and even gave him a friendly wave as he left and followed the ambulance. Didn't Bloom realize that was not appropriate at this moment? A man was fighting for his life, and his injuries were horrific. Does he even have a shred of sympathy and compassion?
The media was fucked up. All they could cover these days were violent crimes and horrible accidents. The more horrific it was, the better ratings they received. He had stopped watching late-night news since the trend among TV stations started.
His shift was nearly over, and he headed back to his car. He checked his phone and realized his group chat with Jack and Lucy was suddenly active. Jack had just messaged them, asking if they wanted to hang out after their shifts.
Hell yes. He needed a beer, badly, after what he had just seen. He was sure Grace would come too, the woman was intrigued by all this royal business and always watched the British Royal Family if there was something important happening, like a wedding or other elaborate ceremonies.
He had to admit the household cavalry looked amazing with their silver helmets, polished boots, sabers, and black steeds, but other than that, he really didn't put too much thought into a single family across the Atlantic.
He was looking forward to hearing about Jack's latest adventure during his leave, and maybe he could even tease him by calling him Jacques. He had to make sure he was out of arm's reach before he started calling him that, though.