Chapter Sixteen #2
Pushing the fleeting thought away, I focused on my target audience. Ian had always conveniently conflated patriotism and pride, and I could use his intentional misunderstanding to my advantage.
“Like many of us, I saw President Jackson’s recent address, and I have been moved to offer him this heartfelt reply.”
I stepped forward, staring directly into the camera before I continued.
“Mr. President, I thank you for your kind words. Though you have always been a better man than me, I, too, had the honor of considering you my friend until I was torn from the fold.” I paused, inhaling and hoping my eyes conveyed my faux regret, rather than the vexation that was actually coursing through my system.
It was one thing to feign pride for Ian’s so-called achievements, but pretending he was better than me was a pill I was struggling to swallow.
“I therefore appreciate your concern for me, and the actions you intend to put into place to ensure no other man needs to suffer the same fate that has befallen me.”
Resisting the urge to glance at Caroline, I forced my gaze toward the ground. If I was finding the task a challenge, then I couldn’t bear to see the way she was receiving my words. Any sign of her distress would cloud my ability to finish the job.
“That is why I send this message directly to you.” My focus flitted back to the camera.
“From one man to another, from one friend to his president... Please know that seeing your pain over my absence has been the greatest regret of my life.” I suppressed a shudder at the lie.
Whatever remorse I entertained centered around the state of our country and my contribution to its ruin.
Pulling in a deep breath, I prepared myself for what I had to say next.
“I should not have left my post, should not have abandoned our cause, and should not have allowed myself to become so fascinated with a whore’s false prophecy. ”
My attention remained rooted to the lens, although I sensed the weight of Caroline’s stare from over the cameraman’s shoulder.
She was the ‘whore’ I referred to, and I assumed everyone in the room knew it.
I only hoped she remembered what I’d told her.
I didn’t mean what I was saying. The whole bullshit performance was only a show to hoodwink Ian’s overinflated ego.
“Those are my mistakes, and I am sorry for causing them. They are errors I have to live with for the rest of my life. I’m not asking for your forgiveness—to do so would be trite—so instead, I throw myself on your mercy.”
Closing my eyes, I fell softly to my knee, knowing that, in that moment, I was giving Ian everything he wanted in the world.
To see me—the taller, better-looking friend he’d never truly been able to compete with—lowering myself in pursuit of his blessing.
.. that would give him the thrill of his fucking life.
“You are the man our country has needed for so long, the savior of Britain, while I am nothing without you.” I blew out a breath. “A theory which has been proven in the days since I was taken from our home.”
Choosing my vocabulary carefully, I echoed his words on purpose, hoping they’d resonate with any part of his vanity I hadn’t already massaged.
“I bow to your knowledge and superiority, Mr. President, and once again, I thank you for your words and everything you’ve done for Britain. You have single-handedly made it great again.”
It was easier to lie with my eyes closed, as though blocking out the room in Zurich helped me to believe I was on the stage somewhere instead of sending a message to the self-important leader of my country.
“If there is any way for me to be of service to our fantastic nation again, then know it would be my life’s honor to comply.
I’m prepared to come home and bend the knee to you there.
Perhaps this could even be a moment of celebration for you—receiving back your commander general in a fanfare of well-deserved adoration. ”
Eyes flickering open, I made sure I painted just enough of a picture to whet his appetite, knowing Ian would take that tiny thread and tug it to create something far grander.
Attempting to relax my clenching jaw, I imagined how pleased the idiot would be when he saw my plea.
If he chose to reach out, I’d leave it to the Swiss officials, guided by the ICC, to roll out the specifics.
“Until then, Mr. President,” I went on. “I wait to hear from you, and I remain your true and humble servant.”
I lowered my head, hoping young Tom would take the hint and cut the video. It took what felt like the longest moments of my life before he picked up on the cue, the sound of his voice screaming for his cameraperson to ‘cut’ my only clue that the humiliation was over, temporarily at least.
“Er, that was good.” Tom hovered by my side as I climbed back to my feet. “Nice touch on the whole falling to one knee thing.”
“Thanks.” It was a relief to be able to employ my dry tone again. Subservience had never been very ‘Adam Harper’.
“How did it all look?” I glanced over at Akari, my focus skimming over my little girl in the process.
I knew, despite my assurances, that she’d want answers for the shitshow she’d just witnessed, but before I offered her those, I needed to know I didn’t have to go through the dreadful ordeal again. “Was the tone what you wanted?”
“You demonstrated humility.” Akari sounded surprised. The version of me she’d met earlier presumably hadn’t conveyed such self-effacement. “And you made the offer to be useful to him again. That covers all of our bases. Tom, how was the sound?”
Tom’s attention flitted to one of his colleagues, who motioned to us all with a thumbs-up gesture. “It all looks good here,” he confirmed. “But give us a few minutes to roll back and check the quality. We might need a second take.”
I certainly hoped not.
“Fine.” Digging my hands into my pockets, I made my excuses to Tom and wandered away. After so long avoiding her gaze, there was only one person’s opinion I truly gave a shit about.
“Little girl.” I found her perched on a seat by the window, her attention fixed on the weather outside. The sky, which had once been so blue, had taken on a decidedly cloudy hue. “Are you okay?”
Turning my way, she looked up with wide eyes. “That was... a lot.”
“Yeah.” Pulling up a chair, I sat down beside her. “It was.”
How could I argue with her? Humiliation was really more her kink than mine, and there was nothing even remotely arousing about degrading myself for the bloated idiot who’d clung to my coat tails for decades, but ultimately, I’d done what the ICC had asked. If necessary, I’d do it all over again.
“Listening to you talking to him like that was harder than I thought.” She heaved out a breath.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I hated how much the recording was dredging up our torrid past for her.
I’d known our dark and complicated history would require attention, and probably years of therapy, but I’d hoped we could at least create more happier memories before we needed to rake over the terrible minutiae of what we’d left behind.
“I didn’t mean any of it. The last thing I want to do is return to him. ”
“I know.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “It’s just difficult, you know, hearing you belittle yourself for him.”
Anger amplified in her voice, but the emotion was lost to the tears cascading down her face. Beckoning her toward me, I rose from the chair and cradled her head when she began to sob.
“He’s a selfish little man with no apparent capacity for charm or compassion.
” Stroking her hair, I tried to soothe her.
Ian was all of those things. I just hoped she knew I was doing my best to be none of them.
“You and I both know that, but I’ll call him my god if it gets us one step closer to seeing him in handcuffs. ”
My focus flitted to my wrist, recalling how those metal bracelets had felt around my skin.
If there was any kind of justice under the sun, then I prayed Ian would know that feeling soon, too—the emptiness of arrest, and the suffocating hopelessness of imprisonment.
If the French could expedite the ICC’s warrant, he’d be on his own, well beyond the reach of Lucy, his poor downtrodden wife, and the tiny sycophants who cowered to him in London. No one would be there to support him.
“But it’s just one thing after another.”
She buried her face against me, crying all over the shirt I’d borrowed from Laurent.
The judge was slightly shorter than me, but I’d made do with the offering, just wanting the damn video recorded.
The sooner the content was published, the faster we’d know if there was any prospect of Ian taking my bait.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
I rubbed the small of her back, my focus flitting to the glass, although my attention was rooted in the words I couldn’t yet guarantee. I was there for her in that moment, but if the ICC remained dissatisfied, I couldn’t promise how long that would be true.
I tried not to dwell on the idea of doing time for the things I’d done, just as I refused to focus on the ignominious things I’d said or the way I denigrated myself for Ian’s entertainment.
Lingering on those losses wouldn’t serve us.
I only hoped Tom and his team would decide the video quality was good enough to publish and get the trial of waiting started.
Holding Caroline tightly, I turned my attention to the waning daylight beyond the vast windows. The sun was setting earlier with each passing day, abandoning the city to the looming shroud of night. Watching the sun’s descent, I had to hope the incoming darkness wasn’t an omen of things to come.