The Last Phoenix Read Free

there must be a tiger.” He raised it to his lips and gave a little toot. It was a sad, wistful sound that drove a pang of despair into his heart. “It’s all that’s left. Everything else was destroyed in…” His voice trailed off. Then, more strongly, “I came here to escape all this. But it came after me.”
    Tel didn’t know what he was talking about, but rather than pursuing it, he asked the one question that consumed him. “Why?” He waited for what seemed an eternity.
    Kamigami finally came to his feet, looked out to sea, and gestured at the oil platforms. “Maybe something to do with that. I don’t know.” He picked up a shovel and walked quickly toward the amah’s kampong. At a distinctive bend at the halfway point, he stepped off the path. He counted the steps to an open spot and started digging. The shovel clanged off a hard object. Kamigami scooped out more dirt and handed up a metal chest sealed in plastic wrap. He cut away the plastic, knocked off the hasps with the shovel, and threw back the lid. He removed a bundle from the chest and unwrapped it to reveal a submachine gun coated in Cosmo-line. “A Heckler and Koch MP5,” Kamigami said. “It’s time you learned how to clean and assemble one.”
    For the next hour Kamigami and Tel methodically stripped and cleaned the MP5 and a well-used Beretta nine-millimeter automatic. When they were finished, Kamigami packed two rucksacks, hiding the two weapons. Then he dressed in dark gray-green pants and a black T-shirt, taking care as he laced his jungle boots. The boots were the only military item he was wearing. He threw Tel a pair of pants and a T-shirt that were much too large for him. “We’ll find something that fits later,” he told him, shouldering one of the rucksacks and adjusting the straps. Satisfied that it fit properly, he went into a deep crouch as his right hand reached back and snapped open a flap at the bottom corner of therucksack. The MP5 fell out, into his hand. He slapped in a clip as he brought the weapon to the ready. The sound echoed in the smoky air.
    Tel stared at the dark specter towering in front of him. He had never seen such a look on the face of a human being.
    Kamigami gestured at the second rucksack. “You coming?”

One
    Oakland, California
    Saturday, July 24
    The formal dedication ceremony of the Matthew Pontowski Presidential Library was over, but Madeline O’Keith Turner did not leave. Instead the president of the United States strolled down the hillside garden chatting with two former presidents and savoring the unusually clear and mild August day. From time to time they would stop and take in the magnificent vista overlooking San Francisco Bay with its view of the Oakland Bay Bridge and the city on the hill. A breeze washed over them, gently ruffling the president’s hair, creating a charming effect not lost on the TV cameras that were held at a distance on the veranda of the small library building.
    The presidential entourage hovered in the background, nervously checking their watches. Only her personal assistant, Nancy Bender, was unconcerned with what the delay would do to the president’s carefully crafted campaign schedule. She alone knew what was on the president’s mind.
    The deputy chief of staff rushed up to Nancy. “How much longer will the president be?” the young man asked. “I’ve got a campaign to run…can’t delay much longer.”
    Nancy stifled a sigh. Like so many who worked in the White House, he had an overblown opinion of his importance because of the position he occupied. “Yes you can,” she replied. But she immediately relented. He’s got a point, Maddy. Madeline “Maddy” Turner had just emerged from a hard-fought primary campaign and turbulent convention to win her party’s nomination for president. It had been a near thing, which was unusual for an incumbent. Now her old rival and nemesis, Senator John Leland, was determined to deny her the election and get his boy