"Avery had spent too much time in D.C. to be surprised, but the clay feet of America’s political leaders still hurt. ''
Avery remained stock still. The president shifted his attention to the agent waiting by her side. “Agent Morales, can you give us a minute, please?” “Yes, sir.” Avery continued to watch President Stokes. “I didn’t realize the Secret Service had become your personal goon squad.” “I simply asked them to escort you to see your president.” He cocked his head at her, softened his smile to implore trust. “I believe you and I got off on the wrong foot early on.”
“You kidnapped my mother,” she reminded him baldly. “Threatened to kill her. Tried to kill me.” The smile tightened, then vanished. In its place was a perfect imitation of righteous indignation. “Major Vance kidnapped your mother. He hired thugs to kill you and your friends.” He laid his hands flat against the desk. “I swear to God, I knew nothing of his treason. I fought for our nation, for our ideals. Why would I cast aside all the good I have done, could still do, for such a grotesque purpose?” Avery knew she was hearing the opening arguments of the Stokes impeachment trial. Trouble was, although she intimately understood the utter bollocks he spewed, she easily believed others would take him at his word. Especially his colleagues in the U.S. Senate, a body where he distinguished himself as a warrior for accountability and integrity. Giving herself an internal shake, she let out a short chuckle. “You’ve had weeks to practice, sir. That’s the best you can do?” For a nanosecond, rage flashed, then subsided. “I reached out to you, Avery, because we have a common mission here. To move forward and put the past behind us.” He gestured to one of the two chairs again. “Won’t you please have a seat?” “No, I will not.” She pointedly looked around the elegant study, its high ceilings and shelves of books with a librarian’s ladder to reach the highest tomes. “Do you read, Mr. President?” He swept his arms wide. “These aren’t for decoration.” She wandered over to a section and plucked a random volume. Opening to the middle of the book, she skimmed random pages. Avery quickly returned to the president, who watched her actions with clear confusion. “Take it,” she instructed, and he warily accepted the open hardback. Avery clasped her hands behind her and began to recite. “ ‘They are good husbands, or faithful wives, or something tedious. You know what I mean—middle-class virtue and all that kind of thing. How different Sibyl was! She lived her finest tragedy. She was always a heroine. The last night she played—the night you saw her—she acted badly because she had known the reality of love. When she knew its unreality, she died, as Juliet might have died. She passed again into the sphere of art.’ ”
She gripped the chair she refused. “I remember everything I see, everything I read. I know the truth.” “Quite the circus feat,” President Stokes offered in low tones, as he turned the spine toward him. “Did you choose The Picture of Dorian Gray on purpose? To teach me a deeper lesson about not underestimating you?” She managed not to roll her eyes. Playing along, she replied, “Pure coincidence. Like the passage I picked.” “If you thought to impress me with your prodigious memory, Ms. Keene, I am not that taken by the interesting pattern of neurons that let you do what confidence men have done for generations.” “I’m the con artist?” she replied incredulously. “You managed to convince a nation that you had their best interests at heart.” “I did,” he said haughtily. “I do. And your routine here or some performance on Capitol Hill will not divert me from my purpose.”
“What? Genocide?” His grip on the book tightened. “Protection. Opportunity. Defense. Freedom. All things that I have pursued on behalf of my fellow citizens for longer than you’ve been alive.” “So you admit you authorized the Tigris Project?” President Stokes gave her a thin smile. He stroked the book, and without looking down, he continued Avery’s passage from memory. “ ‘There is something of the martyr about her. Her death has all the pathetic uselessness of martyrdom, all its wasted beauty.’ ” He flipped the cover over, tapped the embossed name of the author from the priceless first edition. “Oscar Wilde reveled in the excesses of passion, didn’t he? His Dorian Gray resolved to make his life count, to do what he could to wring out the last dregs of joy.” His smile widened. “Perhaps, somewhere in the recesses of your astonishing memory, you learned that I wrote my undergraduate thesis on Mr. Wilde. He was quite the chameleon.” Avery held her silence, and he continued. “Writer. Philosopher. Classicist. A man ahead of his time but committed to his ideals. One whose moral turpitude was later placed into appropriate context. I committed my services to my nation, to each citizen having the ability to thrive.”
“At whose expense?” Avery whispered. “You murdered people.” “Accusations like that will not end well for you, Avery. Our investigations have already uncovered your unsavory relationship with Karriem Shabazz.” “I had no such relationship,” she ground out. “These lies won’t stick.” “Information need not be permanent to be useful.” He flashed his famous grin again, the one that charmed heads of state and diplomats. “Recant while you can, and I will not forget your bravery.” Pissed that she allowed them to keep her phone, Avery reminded herself of why she’d come. For the truth. And if she’d had the smallest glimmer of doubt, he’d quashed it. “I have nothing more to say to you, sir. I’d like to leave.” “Certainly. Once you finish the passage, Ms. Keene.” “What?” “Your parlor trick has been helpful in setting the parameters of our engagement. So use that remarkable memory and tell me what Dorian says to Basil about suffering. I’ll get you started. ‘You must not think I have not suffered.’ ”
Fear washed through Avery, as cold as the blast from the SUV. Brandon Stokes was no cartoonish buffoon, no clumsy swindler who stumbled into power using invective and fool’s gold. His patina of honor distracted attention, but a careful watcher would see what he showed her now. A rare, deadly combination of zealot and genius. A warning she’d do well to heed. Chilled, she murmured Dorian’s complaint. “ ‘I suffered immensely. Then it passed away. I cannot repeat an emotion. No one can, except sentimentalists.’ ” He tapped a button on his phone. “Ms. Keene is ready to go.” Like a wraith, Agent Morales appeared in the doorway. Avery hurried out, ready to be as far away from Stokes as she could. Heading back the way they’d entered, she kept her head low, her mind racing.
“What the hell are you doing here?” The exclamation brought her head up. Congressman Luke Boylen stood in the foyer, outfitted in a chambray shirt, jeans, and scuffed riding boots with a riding crop under his arm. “Leaving,” Avery replied shortly. “I’d ask the same of you, but why insult either of us?” She poked Agent Morales. “Please.” The agent shifted to allow her to precede him, and she gave the congressman a wide berth. Confidentiality of the deposition be damned. Although Avery had never been naïve enough to think secrecy applied, she hadn’t expected the Republicans to be quite so brazen. Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she made a beeline for the truck. Once inside, she stuck out her hand, the command wordless. The silent agent driving the vehicle returned her satchel and phone. Avery powered the device on and watched the cascade of text messages and voicemails with growing dismay. In the chaos of today’s revelations, she’d forgotten her other appointment. “Shit.” Agent Morales slammed the heavy front-passenger door, and Avery scooted forward. “This puppy have lights and sirens? I’m late for a meeting on Capitol Hill, and it’s all your fault.” The agent gave his colleague a brief nod. “Buckle up.”
~~~
"Something about his brand of patriotism had always rubbed her the wrong way. Patriots who also had a mild case of messianic fervor usually came to an end, holed up in a remote cabin with adherents and jugs of kerosene or crates of automatic weapons."
For instance, many will immediately visualize the president in the novel as one of the former men who served in the office, while immediately pointing out, to her amazement, that he was no cartoonish buffoon, no clumsy swindler who stumbled into power using invective and fool’s gold.
Using this type of maneuvering within the overall story of ensuring that justice is achieved, will lead readers to certainly pay attention to the details in order to keep up with the plot--as it thickens! And just watching the news these days ensures us that, indeed, the plot will thicken, sometimes through discovering the truth--but also through lies used indiscriminately by those in power who have no real desire to be truthful in all things. Especially when it improves their own power and wealth.
Abrams takes us into an area which many Americans are beginning to, or already are, concerned about--the court system. But it is a specialized court, which sets out the procedures for electronic surveillance and collection of foreign information (FISA).
Avery Keene, the main character, was placed in a very unusual situation when the judge for whom she clerked gave her his power of attorney.Supreme Court Associate Justice Howard Wynn, was now in a coma in the hospital and Avery Keene was caught in the middle as she reviews Wynn's allegations of genocide, treason, and murder by the President of the United States. President Stokes had been removed from office and was in the middle of impeachment proceedings. And, quickly, Avery had become a pawn by any and all who were involved. The key point, however, is that Ms. Keene had done an extensive investigation to confirm what Justice Wynn had been about to announce. Immediately, the vice-president had acted to take hold as Acting President, while supporters of the President began to "create" lies to discredit and, yes, harm Avery, her family, and her friends. Avery also happens to be involved with Judge Wynn's estranged son, Jared. As the novel opens, Avery is the main witness as the Impeachment inquiry begins.
Ms. Keene had been given minimal duties, attending seminars, et.al., to keep her an active part of the office. At the end of one session, she was approached by a clerk of another judge from Idaho, who hoped to have her help in some way. He explained that he had watched while his judge committed suicide, and wanted to have an investigation to prove that she had not been responsible for her actions. That they had killed her and he sought her help in taking them down. He passed her information and quickly left, with Avery quickly gathering her things to follow. By the time she got on the street, he had found a taxi and was rolling away. As she watched, Avery saw a female jogger move forward and running alongside, killed Preston, the clerk, first and then the driver. And immediately disappeared...
One of the items Preston had given her was a tape that proved what was going on. And a list of all FISA judges, one of the most powerful set court in America. And the woman who had just died was on that list.
Soon, it was discovered that a mass shooting had taken place, and the man who had gunned down most of the people in his former working place had been set free by the same judge from Idaho.
As more judges die across the country, Avery Keene, joined by FBI Special Agents begin one of the most extraordinary set of criminal activities that could be divined by someone who is both intellectually knowledgeable and experienced with both the courts and the extensive structure of the Federal Government. Abrams' second novel has already surpassed her first, in the Avery Keene series. I can't image where she might go next, but I'm going to be right there waiting to read, and learn, as she weaves one of the most, if not the most, incredible intriguing and totally, exhausting, thrilling chase to keep up with what is turning out to be a major attack across the United States in multiple ways!
You've got to read it to believe it! Yet, Avery Keene, with her mind-picturing will guide you through all of the events that had occurred in years past right up to what was happening in the exact time period that was already too late to stop what was planned. Brilliant mind-blowing action, suspense, and nitty-gritty detail chasing pieces of a multi-faceted unbelievable puzzle!
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