Happy Utopia Day, Joe McCarthy

Chapter 29

I must admit I am somewhat at a loss to know what to do at this moment.

—Senator Joseph McCarthy

I desperately look around the room. "I gotta get to Vegas. My wife's getting married." No one seems concerned with my problem. "Hey, hey. My wife's getting married!" I'm beginning to hyperventilate. I crouch down and hold my knees. I might vomit. Finally, Land walks over to me. He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Easy, Liaison. What's wrong?"

"I have to go to Vegas." I gasp for breath. "Like now."

Samuel and Daniel come over. I look at them pleadingly. "I have to stop my wife from getting married. How can I get to the Hitch 'Um Up Wedding Chapel fast?"

Samuel raises an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're talking about, but my son is safe because of you. I will help you in any way I can."

Medical technicians file into the room. "Emergence resi- dents, please gather over here," an elderly female nurse says.

Samuel and Daniel hug. "Go, son," Samuel says. "We'll catch up later. I'm going to help Chris."

Daniel walks back to his group. A line of FBI and Nevada state law enforcement personnel file in. A short stocky woman in SWAT gear that says fbi in bold white letters on the back holds up a badge. "FBI. This is an investigation site. We are locking this facility down. The perimeter is secure. No one is allowed to leave until after they have been interviewed."

The press groans.

"All Emergence security and personnel report to conference rooms B and C for interviews. Members of the press and Emer- gence bunker residents remain here. Members of the Cherokee Nation and all others, proceed to the front lawn."

"How long is this going to take?" someone asks.

The FBI woman looks at her handheld computer. "If every- one cooperates, we should have you out by morning. Settle in for a long night."

The press swears and complains. "Night!" I say. "What am I going to do?"

Land's men do not seem concerned. Nor does Land. "Time is not important," Land says. "We've got a job to do, and we're not leaving until we get our chosen ones' remains, and we're satisfied things are under control."

"I gotta leave now," I say.

Samuel starts walking. "Come on. Let's check things out." Samuel, Land, and I walk to the main entrance of the building. A circular drive surrounds a set of flagpoles and runs up to the glass entranceway doors. A manicured lawn spreads out beyond. Federal personnel and vehicles encircle the premises in a tight perimeter.

There's no way out. I clench my fists. "Damn it." "This is nothing," Samuel says.

I look at Samuel and wonder whether he has flown one too many missions. "How can you always be so confident?"

Samuel pokes my chest. "'Cause confident people get things done. Now go up to the second-floor room we crashed the cop- ter into, climb onto the roof, and I'll meet you there."

Myriad problems come to mind. "How are you going—"

Samuel holds up his hand. "I may be retired, but I'm still the best." He pauses. "Trust me. These guys will be easy."

"But—"

"Do you want to stop that wedding or not?" "I do," I say. "I can't survive without Karen."

Samuel pushes me away. "Two minutes—on the roof." I walk down the hallway toward the stairs.

"Chris," Land calls. I stop.