25. ETHAN
25
ETHAN
“Yes, I understand,” he says into the phone as I approach.
“Yes, I’ll be there. Eight A.M. sharp.”
I sigh and hang up, looking at Sophia.
“Ethan, what is it?”
“That was Homeland Security. My parents have been arrested. They want me to be at their offices at eight o’clock tomorrow as I am a ‘person of interest’,” he makes the air-quotes sign with his fingers.
“Weren’t you just talking with the FBI?”
“Yeah, but then I got a call, and when the caller ID showed Homeland Security, the agent told me to take the call. The guy from Homeland Security said something to the FBI, and he shut it down.”
“Surely they don’t suspect you.”
“From what they were able to tell me over the phone, when they started digging into my folks, they found a lot of stuff they’d tried to bury.”
“But I thought you really didn’t have anything to do with their business deals.”
“I don’t, but I guess they at least think I have some kind of insider knowledge, especially since I stand to inherit the ‘family business’.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks.
“Tell them the truth, obviously. I hate to say it, but I always expected this day to come. It was just a matter of time.”
Homeland Security means it goes all the way to the top. The FBI just concerns themselves with federal laws, while the DHS covers national security, terrorism, and that sort of thing. They can and do tell the FBI what they can and can’t investigate.
The FBI can send you to federal prison, while Homeland Security can send you to Guantamamo or any number of other even more unpleasant places.
That likely meant that Homeland Security doesn’t trust the FBI.
That doesn’t surprise me in the least.
The people and families that comprise the political elite are sort of like organized crime in that they don’t cooperate or collude in their operations, but they each have control of certain key people in the bureaucracy and use them for their own purposes.
They’re everywhere, the FBI, CIA, NSA, even Homeland Security.
This means the shockwaves from what we started are going to propagate way further than I anticipated.
I notice Liam’s car is no longer out front. “Where did your brother go?”
“I don’t know. He probably went somewhere to cool down.”
“Seems reasonable.” I know I hurt him, but it’s not as if any of what happened was planned. It just sort of happened.
I won’t apologize for falling in love with Sophia. As the old saying goes, you don’t choose who you fall in love with.
In fact, most times, it happens mostly by chance.
Who knows what would have happened if I hadn’t saved her from drowning that day? Surely none of this.
I would have probably just gone along with whatever my mother and father had planned, not asking any questions, just going through the motions and doing what they requested.
How different life would have been.
In retrospect, my life before getting involved with her was rather meaningless. I was doing what I wanted and what I thought was right, but there was no real purpose to my actions.
Sophia made me look outside of all that and realize we could make a real difference in people’s lives.
“Ethan, we need to talk,” she says, pulling me away from my thoughts.
We walk out to her back deck and have a seat on the comfortable soft rattan as the sun begins to set.
“I don’t know where to begin,” she starts unsteadily. “I guess what I want to know is where you stand and where we go from here.”
“I’ve thought a lot about this,” I tell her. “I think, in fact, I’m sure I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“I know we’ve only been together for a short time, but I’ve known you since you were born.”
“Even though we’ve never really gotten along, Liam would talk about you all the time. I guess I always acted like I didn’t care, but maybe deep down I did.”
“I never really understood brother-sister relationships since I never had a sister, and I don’t want this to be that, obviously, but I always knew you were smart. Liam is so proud of you, and now I know why.”
“I want to take this to the next step, if that’s what you want. I want you to be mine, to go out with me, to be a couple, at whatever level you’re comfortable with.”
“I want you to be independent because I know that’s important to you, but I want to help you succeed at whatever you want to do. If you need anything, I mean financially, I want you to feel like you can come to me, no strings attached. More importantly, I want to be there to support you emotionally.”
“I love you, and your happiness is the most important thing to me.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she smiles.
“I want to be yours, to be your girlfriend—and maybe more. I’m not sure about the money thing, we’ll have to play that one by ear.”
“Would you still love me if I went to prison?” I asked, only half joking.
“I don’t know, do they allow conjugal visits?”
I show up at Homeland Security headquarters in D.C. promptly at eight o’clock.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackwood. Sorry to have to call you in on such short notice and at such an early hour, but trust me, D.C. traffic is such that you’re better off getting here as early as possible. You’ll thank me later.” Homeland Security Agent Raul Sepeda began politely enough.
I’m professionally dressed in a suit and tie, hoping I don’t stand out too much. I think I look more like an agent than a civilian.
The offices are pretty much standard government issue, although slightly more modern.
Surprisingly, I’m ushered into a small office rather than an interrogation room.
As if reading my mind, Agent Sepeda clarified the situation.
“Just to be clear, Mr. Blackwood, you’re not considered a suspect. We’re well aware of your military service, for which we thank you. So we know that a lot of things we’re looking into occurred while you were deployed. However, we feel that there is more deep background information that we think you can help us with in our investigation.”
For four hours I’m grilled by agents for Homeland Security.
Despite their assurances that I’m not a suspect, sometimes it doesn’t feel that way.
In the process of questioning me, they ask me questions that, even with my knowledge of how deeply my family is involved in the political process, shock me to the core.
The money that was paid to the man accused of planning the assassination of a candidate in the last presidential election was found to have come from a shell corporation established by my father.
My mother was involved with a women’s organization that had as one of its members the wife of a U.S. Senator. This woman had received a number of honors for her service to various causes, and these honors all seemed to carry with them financial awards, which all added up to over one million dollars.
This Senator then voted in favor of or introduced certain pieces of legislation that benefited the causes supported by this women’s organization.
There are several other charges currently being investigated.
I’m a little surprised when I am allowed to go free at the end of the questioning. The feds are clearly locked in on bringing charges against my parents and are willing to go to any lengths to get it.
I drive around Washington for a little while, partly to clear my head.
It’s a little bit strange that, having grown up a metaphorical stone’s throw from the capital, I’ve never visited the city, other than for high school football games against some of the suburban schools in the area.
Looking up at some of the hulking neo-classical granite structures, I have to wonder how many people in them have ever worked for my parents. Apparently a lot more than I ever suspected.
I also visit the war memorials for World War II and the Vietnam War, two of the most prominent on the mall. I wonder if there will ever be one for those of us who fought in the Middle East and Afghanistan.
Perhaps it’s still too fresh in the minds of those who create these memorials, but I know that I lost friends there, and they deserve to be remembered. They are certainly more worthy of being remembered than I ever will be.
I turn around for home with some trepidation. There is still the matter of attempting to repair my friendship with the brother of the woman I’ve only truly ever loved.