Free The End by G. Michael Hopf Page B

looking down at his notepad and writing the amount down.
    â€œWill three thousand work? The rest is a tip,” Gordon said, handing the man over a small stack of hundred-dollar bills.
    â€œYes, it will,” the manager said, excited and surprised.
    As the money changed hands, a loud knocking from the store’s front doors startled them both. The manager quickly pocketed the cash and made his way toward the front. “Stay here,” he instructed as he walked away.
    Gordon took a few steps away from the counter so he could see the front doors. He saw the manager doing exactly what he had done when Gordon knocked. He didn’t say a word, he just pointed at the sign. The person on the other side shrugged his shoulders and walked off. The manager came back and said, “Listen, I don’t need any trouble, so follow me to the back and go out that way.”
    â€œI can do that,” Gordon agreed. He followed the manager to the back of the store, through the warehouse, and to an emergency exit. The alarm didn’t sound when the manager opened the door, and Gordon quietly navigated his load through the opening.
    Gordon shook the manager’s hand, jumped on his bike, and pedaled off. The bike was very heavy now, which meant the ride home would be slower than the ride to the store. As he rode, he felt proud of himself for his quick thinking under pressure. He might have just given his family a longer lease on life. The regret he had earlier for his overall lack of preparedness was eased now.
    Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
    The atmosphere of the hotel parking lot was similar to that of the hospital. Scattered throughout, cars sat still with their hoods raised and people meandered, confused. Conner turned into the lot, hastily parked the truck, pulled the keys from the ignition, and jumped out of the cabin. He locked the truck, hoping to provide some security for one of the only operational vehicles around. He noticed everyone in the lot was staring at him and his operational truck.
    He ran to the emergency stairs and up to the second floor. He went directly to Dylan’s room. Once he reached the room, he furiously rapped on the door until his trusted aide answered.
    â€œI’ve been trying to reach you,” Dylan said, feeling relieved to be face-to-face with the Speaker.
    â€œGrab what you can, get the two Capitol Police officers and meet me down in the parking lot in five minutes. Please hurry,” Conner ordered, then turned away leaving Dylan standing there bewildered.
    Conner darted down the hallway toward his room. He pulled out his key card, hoping it would work despite the power outage. He slid the key into the card slot above the doorknob, but nothing happened. Unsurprised, he took a step backward and kicked the door as hard as he could. The door hardly budged. He gave it another shot; this time, it buckled under the force of his kick and flew open. He bolted inside, grabbed his briefcase and a small piece of luggage, and immediately left.
    â€œMr. Speaker!” a voice yelled down the darkened hallway.
    Conner turned around. He couldn’t see anything down the near-black corridor, but he heard footsteps approaching.
    â€œMr. Speaker!” the voice said again.
    â€œAgent Davis, is that you?” he asked.
    â€œYes sir, it’s me and Jackson.”
    From the darkness, two large-statured men wearing suits approached Conner.
    â€œHave you been able to communicate with anyone in Washington?” Conner asked.
    â€œNo,” Davis responded
    â€œNothing, sir,” Jackson answered, shaking his head. “None of our equipment will even power on. We went down to the front desk and everything is down.”
    â€œListen, go back to your rooms and grab what you will need and meet me out front. I have a working vehicle.”
    Both men acknowledged Conner and ran back to their rooms. Conner headed for the stairwell and quickly made it back to the truck. Seeing the truck