Episode 34 Blackout (part 2/3) (Patreon)

(Part 2/3)

Jack Routh

He hated flying, but he needed the answers, and it seemed like his wife’s father could provide that. Zoe had booked them a couple of business class tickets, and there really wasn’t any other choice since they both needed the leg space. With Zoe nearly standing tall with her 5 foot 10 inches and him with his height and bulk, he knew they would both suffer in economy.

He also felt vulnerable without a concealed weapon on his person. They were traveling for personal reasons, and couldn’t bring their backup pieces on the flight, since they needed to attend the law enforcement officers flying armed program to do that. Those were only offered to federal agencies to begin with, but he wondered if he would be able to participate in that program if he accepted that consultant role with the FBI.

The flight went smoothly, and surprisingly, he was able to catch a few hours of sleep. Perhaps an all-night of sex was the answer he was searching for, since his wife was able to sleep for most of the flight and only woke up for meal time. They had a layover in Chicago, and then the final leg where they landed at the Ronald Regan Washington National Airport.

Zoe didn’t want to rely on an Uber, and instead headed to a rental to get a car for the duration of their visit.

“It’s not a popular here compared to New York or Los Angeles.” His wife explained.

 She had chosen a black Camry this time, and he liked the leg room on the passenger seat. They arrived at the Fairmont hotel a bit late and quickly settled down once they got to their rooms. Zoe looked a bit nervous, and he wrapped her in a hug to comfort her.

“We’ll be meeting your brother first?” He asked.

“And his wife and my niece Freya.” Zoe answered. “It’s the first time I’ll meet her.”

“I’m sure she’ll love the gift.” Zoe got the two year old a nice dollhouse set, and it was big, pretty much taking half of his luggage space. Luckily, he always packed light and didn’t have any problems fitting the gift in.

As dinner approached, he wore the clothes he used in New York. Zoe seemed to like it and even took a couple of pictures.

“It’s for the girls.” She explained. “It’s so rare to see you wearing clothes this nice.”

“It’s practical for this weather.” He answered and tugged his dark gray coat tighter. Zoe fixed their tie, and they met Zoe’s brother in the lobby.

“Zoe!” Wes gave her a warm greeting, and he stood back, calmly watching the family reunion. He saw the smile on his wife’s face as she greeted her niece for the very first time.

“I’m your Aunt Zoe.” His wife grinned at the shy two year old girl who was being carried by her mother. “We talked on video call a few times, remember?”

“She’s just shy.” Wes’ wife Juman explained.

“And this is Jack.” Zoe gestured to him, and he stepped forward to stand beside her.

“You’re bigger in person.” Wes observed and offered a friendly handshake which he immediately took.

Dinner went fine, with Zoe even trying to entertain her niece as the two siblings caught up. He and Juman had their own conversation with light topics, the woman mostly asking about his life on the West Coast. The food served had a decent portion, though their waiter was unusually attentive to their table and even replaced his glass of water with a new one.

 The mood changed when the topic shifted to their spouses’ parents. Thankfully, Freya was already asleep by that point in her stroller beside their table.

“I’ll visit mom first.” Zoe shared. “Then I’ll go to the old house in Fairfax County.”

“Mom won’t be happy.” Wes looked uncomfortable. “She’s expecting you to arrive for a late brunch.”

“Well, tough. I didn’t fly over here for her.” Zoe replied. “We came here for dad.”

“He’s still the same.” Zoe’s brother shrugged. “Busy with his career and his legacy. He’s retiring in January. The first four-star general in two decades. He’s really proud of that.”

They left early the next morning and headed to the Columbia Gardens Cemetery, and he even got a bouquet that he found at a flower shop when he went out that morning to explore and jog. Zoe seemed to like his choice of white chrysanthemums and pink carnations and even earned a kiss on his cheek as a reward for his effort.

“I intended to pass by a flower shop on the way to mom’s grave.” Zoe smiled and admired the soft petals. “Thanks, honey. This saved us a lot of time.”

“We’re in no rush.” He replied. 

Zoe stayed in front of her mother’s grave for over an hour, just sitting there in front of the grave stone. He kept a respectful distance and admired the peaceful environment of the place.

He saw Zoe beckon to him, and he moved closer to her. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he placed his arm on her back. The wind picked up, and dry leaves flew around them from the trees, including the ones scattered on the grass.

They remained there for a few more minutes and then headed back to their parked rental. He watched the scenery, noticing as the scenery changed. It was quite beautiful with the changing colors of the trees in preparation for winter. They headed to a nice neighborhood, and even he was surprised at the size of the houses.

“Fairfax County.” Zoe stated. “This is where most of the generals and politicians live.”

Every street could be in a magazine. The area spoke of wealth and elegance from numerous Colonial to Victorian-style houses sitting on large tracts of land. After a few turns on the street, they arrived at the end of a cul-de-sac where three large houses surrounded it in the distance. In the middle stood a large Colonial-style house with white walls and a dark blue roof. It had a large porch and an American flag hanging outside the wall, a sign that whoever lived in the house had a family member serving in the armed forces.

“This is where you grew up?” He asked.

“Until Dartmouth.” Zoe replied. “After that, I only stayed for a night or two whenever I visited. I left as soon as I could.”

It looked like someone was in the middle of replacing street bulbs on the street. He spotted a utility van parked near the corner with a man on a ladder replacing a street light while another man in a vest stood at the base of the ladder.

As they headed closer to the house, he spotted an older man waiting by the porch wearing a simple collared shirt tucked into his beige pants.

He was tall, around his height, but had a slimmer build. His back was straight, and his eyes were sharp. His hair was turning gray, and he wore a reserved look, but that softened once his wife stepped out of the car.

“Baby Zoe.” The man greeted his wife with his arms raised, ready for a hug.

Zoe stepped forward to accept the hug, but it didn’t last long, though her father gave a quick kiss on her scalp, he let go.

 “Dad.” Zoe greeted him back.

“It’s good that you’re finally here.” The older man replied with a small smile. “Come in, both of you. Melissa’s eager to see you and was up all morning preparing a roast.”

“Haven’t changed much.” Zoe noted as she looked around the hallway. He could see pictures hung on wall, and he spotted a younger version of his wife in a few of them. One caught his attention, it was Zoe in her teens, riding a horse while wearing an equestrian’s outfit, complete with the black helmet.

“She won that year.” Zoe’s father stood next to him and extended a hand in greeting. “General Melver Leonard Anderson.”

“Jack Routh.” He replied, and easily ignored the tightening handshake and gave the man a look.

 “You taking good care of my baby girl?” The man asked, staring straight in his eyes.

“Dad…” He heard Zoe complain, but he didn’t look away from the man’s gaze.

“I’m taking good care of her.” He replied. “But your daughter’s a capable woman.”

“I know that.” Melver Anderson finally stopped staring at him and gestured to the dining room. “Let’s head to the dining room. Melissa’s waiting.”

Zoe’s step mother gave a pleasant smile at first when she first saw them. She was welcoming enough, and even prepared what looked like a nice meal with roasted turkey for them. Then came the snide remarks while they were eating their meal.

“He’s not very talkative, is he?” Melissa observed after he gave another short answer to one of his questions.

“Jack’s a private person.” Zoe explained. “Thank you for preparing all of these for us.”

“Of course, Zoe.” Melissa smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “I would have invited you to help prepare it for me this morning, but I’m sure you have something more important to do than visit us today.”

“I mean, I know you couldn’t cook to save your life. You remember that cake you tried to make? Your father had to replace the batteries on the smoke alarms.” Melissa laughed and turned to him. “Do you cook, Jack?”

“We both do.” He replied.

“You don’t have to cover up for her. It’s just us you’re talking to!” The older brunette smiled. “I have to admit I never expected Zoe to marry a younger man after Gerard. You’re her subordinate, right? Was there any scandal when your affair happened?”

 He had to admire her way of giving back-handed compliments, and he was starting to understand Zoe’s frustration. And her father, it seemed like he didn’t care at all as he continued eating his portion of the turkey while keeping an eye on him. Noticing Zoe’s clenched fist below the table, and decided to break the tension.

“She wanted me for my body.” He quipped. He had timed it right too, as Zoe’s father started coughing and spat out some wine on his shirt. Melissa stood up and started to pat the older man’s back as he coughed. It looked like the wine went into the wrong pipe.

“Jack!” Zoe stared at him with wide eyes.

“What?” He stared back. “You know it’s true. You can’t get enough of me, like I can’t get enough of you and your body.”

Zoe’s father coughed further upon hearing that.

“I’m going to get some extra napkins.” Melissa announced and left the dining room. The older woman looked scandalized and had a faint blush on her cheeks.

“A gentleman and an officer usually do not bring up such topics in polite company.” Melver gave him a pointed look once he recovered from his coughing fit.

He had enough of this farce. He wanted answers, and it looked like Zoe was running out of patience as well.

“Polite?” He shook his head. “Polite, like how you called in hidden bodyguards because of our visit?”

The man immediately froze, and Zoe gave him a questioning look.

“How did you know?” The older man asked. He could see how tense Zoe’s father was at that moment.

“The two utility workers changing the street light at the end of the street.” He revealed. “Nobody works this early during the holiday season, and they wore a jumper and a sweater beneath their high-viz vest. Any working man knows to wear durable clothes during work hours, not wool. They wore loose, comfortable clothes, perfect for hours of surveillance operation inside a van and ideal to conceal any hidden weapons.”

“Is that true, dad?” Zoe stared at her father.

“And ever since we got here, you refused to turn your back on me.” He added, staring at the now stoic general. “Arriving here, you were already waiting out on the porch, and with what you’re wearing, it will be impractical to stay out for too long in this weather. Either you really had timing or someone informed you from down the road, like that work van.”

Melver Anderson took a deep breath and leaned back on his chair.

“It was just a precaution.” He admitted. “You’re more observant than what your file said you’d be.”

“Precaution for what?” Zoe asked.

“You don’t know what kind of man you married, Zoe.” Melver shook his head. “I had to be sure.”

“I know what kind of man my husband is.” His wife answered. “We’re just looking for some answers about his past, one that you claimed is too dangerous to discuss over the phone.”

“Then let’s head to my study.” Melver gave him a long look. “You don’t appear to be mentally unstable or suddenly have a psychotic episode, so I’ll have to put some trust in my daughter’s judgment.”

“Psychotic episode?” He shared a look with Zoe.

“Follow me into my study.” Melver replied. “Melissa! We’re going to the study!”

“But what about our meal?” Melissa asked from the kitchen. The woman was using her phone instead of looking for napkins.

“This can’t wait.” For the first time, Zoe’s father showed his back to him as he led them to his study.

It was a nice room, with a head of a stag mounted above the fireplace. Several medals were displayed on a nearby shelf along with several books, some he was even intrigued by the titles, while TV screen stood on top of it. The dark mahogany desk was impressive, and on it a beautifully crafted Humidor, an old school phone, and a bottle of expensive whiskey.

The man himself closed the thick double doors behind them and gestured for them to sit as he walked around the table and sat on his leather chair.

“What do you remember?” Melver asked.

“Just bits and pieces.” He answered. “I have no clear memory before college, only snippets of when I was younger, and it wasn’t… pleasant.”

“I bet.” Melver answered. “I only read the briefings, and even that gave me pause, even with all the… problems I encountered in my long career in the military.”

“What happened to him, dad?” Zoe pleaded.

Her father took a deep breath and stared at him. “You’re a government experiment, used by a rogue department of the Central Intelligence Agency.”

“What?” He suddenly felt cold.

“Your family was attacked by mistake, a complete failure of our intelligence agencies. The car they were after that contained the targets had the same car model, color, and near similar license plates.” Melver revealed. He looked uncomfortable, and he was taken aback at the look of pity the older man gave him. “Your parents died, but you somehow survived. But then, some of the scientists discovered you were a perfect candidate for their ongoing program, operation Outcome.”

“They wanted better field operatives. Resistance to pain, increased cognitive skills, better reflexes, and improved musculature. That was the purpose of Operation Outcome.”

Outcome. He had heard that word before in his memories. He remembered a blue car and a woman looking back at him in the back seat from time to time with a smile on her face as they drove down a dark road.

“You have R-null blood.” Melver revealed. “I don’t the specifics, but that meant you were susceptible to certain viruses. Operation Outcome relied on modifying an agent’s system, and with your blood, it helped the researchers in designing a virus that will alter their genetic structure.”

Fuck. He was some kind of genetic experiment. He shivered, unable to look at his wife, and stared off into the distance. He was a god damned freak.

“According to the reports, they tried testing several experiments on you. You nearly died several times, even declared dead for over a minute, but you miraculously survived every time.” Melver poured whiskey into his glass and took a drink. He wanted one too, but he was too numb to speak. “They noticed a change in you, and so those bastards tested a previous conditioning on you to see the result of two training programs mixed together.” 

“What… what programs?” He heard Zoe’s voice, but it was weak. She sounded like she was trying not to cry but was failing.

“Treadstone.” Her father answered. “You’re not familiar with that, but Jason Bourne came from that program.”

“The rogue CIA agent?” His wife asked.

“That’s him.” Melver answered. “Treadstone used experimental techniques to break down a recruit’s personality and moral code. They’re trained in advanced hand-to-hand combat, shooting, explosives, the whole nine yards. The side effect of the Treadstone caused amnesia, hallucination, psychological trauma, and severe mental breakdowns on its agents.”

“You were not immune to that.” Melver addressed him. “They shouldn’t have done that to hardened men and women, and you, a teen by that point, stood no chance. In the end, they deemed it a failure since any training with you didn’t stick. You suffered too much and were barely responsive by that point in your time in that program. You were only valuable because of your blood.”

“I tell you, son, nobody, even my enemies, should suffer the fate that you experienced.” He felt a hand holding his, and he clutched it like his life depended on it.

“How… how did I escape that?” He finally found his voice.

“Your parents.” Melver answered. “They killed the wrong people. Apparently, your father was part of a powerful family in Europe. They used all their resources and applied considerable pressure to the administration to clean up. It took a while, but we finally did it and found you.”

“We took you in, and the doctors determined that your permanent amnesia was better for you. You started to improve, and by seventeen, you were deemed safe enough to get back to society. The country owes you that at least for what you had suffered.”

“How long?” He stared at Melver. “How long was I stuck in there?”

“Ten years of hell, son.” The general answered.

“Jack.” Zoe stood up from his chair and hugged him tight. He could feel her tears falling down his cheek. He felt terrible for his counterpart in this world. He couldn’t imagine going through that and enduring it for so long.

“That’s why I had to take precautions.” Melver looked apologetic for a moment. “I didn’t know if you still suffered any after effects from what you went through.”

He was about to ask about his parents when the phone on the desk rang.

The older man looked worried and answered it. He watched as Melver’s face showed surprise, shock and then resignation.

“I understand. Yes, I’m taking care of it. No, I’ll make sure he understands it wasn’t our fault. I’ll call you back.”

The older man looked resigned and gave a sigh. “Looks like the cat’s out of the bag.” Melver took a remote from the drawer of the desk and turned on the TV screen.

The screen blared to life, showing a female anchor from FOX News.

“And in a surprise announcement from the Royal family of the Netherlands, they announce the discovery of a newly discovered relative, long thought dead.” The anchor stated. “Willem-Alexander of Orange-Nassau, King of the Netherlands, announced in parliament just this morning that the son of his late brother, Claus, is still alive and living in America, unaware of his royal lineage.”

He watched as his face suddenly filled half the screen. The reporter looked excited, barely hiding her eagerness as she continued to deliver her report.

“This is Jack Routh, an orphan, serving the Los Angeles Police Department for a year now. You may also know him as Sugar, a talented musician and songwriter who has gained a massive following and often collaborated with global pop star, Taylor Swift.”

His phone started buzzing, followed by Zoe’s. They both ignored it, and gave each other wide-eyed looks He was a royal? Oh shit.

 “If I remember correctly, he was the one who stopped the school shooting and nearly died.” The male anchor added. “A hero cop, a hidden prince. How will that affect his job at the LAPD?”

“A good question, Pete.” The blonde news presenter nodded. “Obviously, he’s still an American Citizen, but this would of course, change the dynamics between our government and the Netherlands in some way.”

“And Jack’s mother, Ella, is from the Mounbatten family, an old aristocratic family that is related to the current British Royal Family.”

“A real prince charming, Megyn.” The man named Pete smiled. “How did they end up in the States?”

“This is where it gets intriguing.” Megyn revealed. “Apparently, the two fell in love and ran away to the States to live a new life with their son. They passed away tragically, and the son was lost in the system. In a strange twist of fate, it was Queen Maxima, King Willem-Alexander’s wife, who made the discovery after Jack was assigned as part of her security during a visit to the city. She noticed that he had a passing resemblance to the king’s younger brother and investigated.”

“They even have DNA results to prove it.” Pete added. “So the next question is… what’s next for the hidden royal, Jack Routh? Or by his original name, Jacques-Henry?”

“Up next is a special story about the House of Orange-Nassau, rumored to be one of the richest families, rivaling the Rothschilds and the Rockefellers.  We’ll be back shortly after this commercial break.”

The TV was turned off, and he looked back at Zoe’s father. He looked older, looking defeated with his shoulder slumped and head bowed.

“They’re going to have to ask me to step down after this.” The older man shared. “It was under my watch that this happened.”

“Dad…”

He tuned that out. He finally had a name and face to his parents. His mother was called Ella. He didn’t need any history lesson, anyone with a love of ancient and modern history would know about Orange-Nassau. They had a bloody past, but they advanced the economy of the modern world through the Dutch East India Company.

His phone continued to vibrate in his pocket, and it was getting annoying. He needed to sort out his head.

“I’m going for a walk.” He stood up.

“Let’s go.” Zoe nodded and led him outside. “We’ll be back, Dad… and thank you.”

They walked down the road, his foot occasionally crunching a dried, fallen leaf that blew over to the road. Zoe walked right beside him, matching his stride as she clutched his right hand close to her. The wave of information was too much, from finding out about his horrible past to learning he still had living relatives, royals at that.

“This doesn’t change anything for us.” Zoe told him. “I’m still your wife. You’re my loving, protective husband.”

His wife let out a gasp as he suddenly stopped and engulfed her in a hug. He took the familiar scent of her hair, her warmth, and felt her hands rubbing his back. He should be raging by now, cussing the world for what happened to him, but Zoe’s presence soothed the raging emotions within him.

Zoe’s father was right, it was better not to recover those lost memories, since even a small memory from a dream rattled him days ago. At least now, he knew what had happened to him and his parents.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” He murmured in her hair. Strands tickled his nose, but he didn’t mind.

“Probably seducing another woman in authority.” He heard Zoe’s muffled reply and smiled. They walked further down the road in silence.

“So what do we do now?” Zoe asked once they reached the end of the road.

“I’m still Jack Routh, your husband and a police officer.” He replied. “We take things one step at a time, but we’re not moving to Europe.”

“Good.”

“But we have to brush up on your French.” He added. French lessons with Zoe were enjoyable, and he even made a game out of it at times with sex. He would stop pleasuring her with his cock or mouth until she gave the correct answer to his questions in French. His wife could now cuss in French like a native. Now they needed to work on German, and he had to study the Dutch language too.

“What for?” Zoe asked, her cheeks turned pink, and he knew it wasn’t from the cold. He knew what she was thinking, since their last French lesson involved him eating her out.

“Well, I met your family. You’re going to meet mine in the near future.”

“Merde.” He was so proud.

Calvin Ellis

The error sound blared out, causing Bradford to curse and drop his tools. He chuckled and pressed a button to reset the simulation.

“Not so easy as it looks, right, Bradford?” He grinned. Bradford was well known to Metro. He had been invited several times to join them, but the man had refused again and again, with the lame excuse that patrol work did more for the community.

They all did patrol for a week once a month. Their hot captain insisted, and he agreed. It was nice to get out to interact with the public, but his true passion lies with explosives. Tim was now willing, and even signed up for the new program that allowed certain metro units to report to the surrounding stations on a day-to-day basis.

Tim passed the evaluations easily, but now he had to go through his course. The red alarms blared again, causing him to reset the system.

“I thought you’d break Routh’s record?” He asked.

“Shut up! Can you lower the noise?” Tim complained.

“No can do.” He answered. “You have to learn to focus despite the distractions.”

Bradford’s times were getting longer, and it looked like he needed a break. He cut off the loud music and the flashing lights, causing his trainee to look up.

“Take five.” He ordered. “You’re getting frustrated.”

“You’re right.” Tim took off the blast-resistant vest and helmet, followed by the gloves and earpiece. He remembered another trainee, one who breezed through the explosives course. Jack Routh still held the record, and even now, he was amazed at how fast the rookie cop took to his lessons, both theoretical and practical.

If he weren’t so good with a gun and unarmed combat, he would have endorsed him to join the bomb squad. The man had a ridiculous memory and an impressive eye for detail. Rarely made the same mistake twice, and he even learned to adopt the rookie’s Assumptions Kill mantra.

Never guess, always be sure. Those Hollywood movies, showing scenes with actors facing time pressure, and guessing what colored wire to cut, was completely stupid, in his professional opinion. It made his department look like amateurs and he fought everyday to get rid of that stigma. They never guessed, he knew how to safely and efficiently disarm a bomb or an I.E.D.

He headed to the break room and found Tim eating a granola bar. There were several officers, too, and all of them were staring at the tiny TV in the corner.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“Look! Routh’s apparently a long-lost prince.” One of his men announced.

A prince? He rolled his eyes in amusement, but no one laughed. He looked around and realized the man wasn’t joking. “Turn that up.”

“Yes, sergeant.”

He sat beside Tim and stared at the news channel. The tag line in the red banner showed the title, missing royal, and above it, a picture of Routh. What the fuck?

“He’s technically not a prince.” One old man explained to a news anchor.

“But he has royal blood, yes?”

“He is the king’s nephew.” The old man explained. “Dutch law makes a distinction between the Royal family and the rest of the royals since he’s not in the line of succession.”

“Sounds like a prince to me.” One of the news anchors made a comment, causing everyone at the table to laugh. The old man gave a smile too.

“So what does this mean to the current administration?” One of the guests of the show asked.

“It’s a slap to the face.” The old man answered. “It just shows how weak and inefficient our institutions are, to allow a young boy to get lost in the system, and it’s happening regularly with the lack of budget allocated to social services. Frankly, I’m amazed at how he turned out.”

“Oh, we’re all amazed too, with that face and body.” One of the women quipped, causing he other to giggle. The TV screen briefly showed a picture of Routh on a beach, shirtless with wet hair and carrying a surfboard. It must have been when he went to Hawaii during the time his wife’s division won that trip.

“But have you heard him sing? That voice… ughhh!”

“Not in person.” Another woman complained, this one fanning her face with a piece of folded paper. “I mean, the man’s so elusive! And it’s just his hobby.”

“So, will he be one of America’s most eligible bachelors with his lineage?”

“I’m afraid to say, Jack Routh doesn’t qualify. He’s already married.”

“No!”

“To Taylor?” One of the women gasped in shock.

It wasn’t fair, Metro couldn’t participate on that contest for Hawaii. No matter, his vacation was up soon, and he was heading to Puerto Rico for two weeks.

“Angela.” It looked like Tim was talking to one of his friends from Mid-Wilshire. He remembered Routh telling him that his FTO had that name and had the skills and attitude to join Metro. Last he heard, the feisty Latina he had sometimes seen visit Routh in their station here in Rampart had become a detective. She had good marksmanship skills too. During the one time he saw her in their own gun range and had an impressive performance, all the way to rifles. The woman knew her weapon systems inside and out and how to use them.

Pity. He had learned to value Routh’s assessments, and he knew the large man was not easily impressed. If he says an officer had the required skills, it means they were really good, and they needed better recruits more than ever.

“Yes, I’m watching the news. Why are you calling me?” Tim complained. “I don’t care if Jack’s a Kennedy or whatever. What do you mean you couldn’t contact him? Calm down.”

“Look.” He watched in amusement as Bradford took a deep breath and tried to calm down Lopez. “He’s probably not answering, not with his face plastered on national TV at every major news channel. He’ll reach out to you soon, I promise.”

He nodded in approval. Tim had a level head, now he needed to use that when defusing a mock-up bomb.

“Let’s go, Bradford. We can do three more simulations before your shift ends for today.” He called out to his trainee.

“Yes, Sergeant.”