Chapter 29
The East Room of the White House was a large, high-ceiling room, elegantly decorated with chandeliers and gold curtains. Because of its size, it was used for special ceremonies, entertaining dignitaries and the occasional dinner. This time the large room was set up for a special press conference.
Behind the podium, in a walkway, hidden from the crowd of reporters, Samuel Fisk stood still while a couple of White House aides groomed him. One woman patted his face with a round sponge pad, while a male aide fixed his tie.
President Merrick lingered next to him, examining the sheet of paper containing Fisk’s opening statement.
“You ready for this?” Merrick asked.
“I’m a little hungry.”
“Of course you are.”
Merrick seemed to scrutinize the speech until he dropped the paper by his side and looked at the two aides. “Are we about done here?”
In a matter of seconds, Fisk and Merrick were left alone. The only sound came from the gaggle of reporters milling around, anticipating the sudden press conference.
“What about the bomb?” Merrick asked in a soft voice.
“What bomb?” Fisk replied, with an innocent expression.
While Merrick stared, Fisk could see the wheels turning inside.
“So, we don’t mention it?” Merrick asked.
“Why?” Fisk said. “Nothing good could come from it.”
Merrick nodded. “You think this United Palestinian Force is finished?”
Fisk wiped his hands in the air. “They’re done,” he said. “They’ve exhausted all their resources and their top three officials have been spotted leaving Israel. Why kindle a fire which is already dead?”
Merrick cracked a smile and handed the briefing notes back to Fisk. He slapped his friend on the arm and said, “Go get ’em, Tiger.”
* * *
Francisco Rodriguez sat on his leather couch with his feet up on the ottoman smugly watching his wall TV screen. The American Secretary of State was about to give a press conference and his sources had told him the Secretary would be announcing the President’s endorsement of the Mexican candidate for president. Rodriguez was already fifteen points ahead in the polls with less than a week before the election. No matter who the United States decided to endorse, the outcome was in little jeopardy. In fact, his advisors were even suggesting he would benefit more from a Salcido endorsement.
Rodriguez was in the upstairs loft of his mansion, where he entertained guests and spent most of his down time relaxing. Two of his advisors were sitting on the couch alongside him, with drinks clinking in their hands. Three members of his security team stood in their defensive positions, by the door, the window and the back of the room.
On the screen, Secretary of State Samuel Fisk approached the podium to a cacophony of camera flashes and shuffling feet and electronic devices being switched on or off.
Fisk offered a genial wave, instructing the crowd to settle down.
“I have a brief statement,” Fisk said. “After that I’ll answer any questions you may have.”
Fisk glimpsed down at his notes, but Rodriguez knew there would be a teleprompter there as well to assist him. “The President has deliberately shied away from commenting on the upcoming election down in Mexico,” Fisk began.
“This is true,” Rodriguez said, holding up his glass of whiskey and taking a sip.
“But the recent events which occurred down in Denton, Arizona, have caused the President to favor one of the candidates and felt it was worthy of note.”
Fisk, of course, was referring to the news that a tunnel was discovered between Antonio Garza’s complex and the Chizek Mine Company and the shipment of cocaine which was confiscated in the process.
“Over the past few weeks we’ve been able to infiltrate the most powerful cartel currently operating in Mexico. The Zutons,” Fisk continued. “This organization has been responsible for over five thousand murders during the past decade and are becoming only more dangerous with every passing day. It is with this in mind which had us form an alliance with a great leader below the border. This man was able to penetrate the Zutons’ inner circle and offer confidential intelligence which allowed us the ability to find the Denton tunnel and seize the large amount of cocaine which was recently impounded.”
This was excellent news for Rodriguez. If President Salcido were known to have collaborated with the United States to undermine the Zutons’ influence, he would be considered a great traitor. Did the American President not realize the importance of patriotism within his country?
Fisk cleared his throat and took a sip from a small bottle of water. “This brave man has used his close relations with these cartels to turn over valuable information leading to numerous arrests, including the capture of one of the most dangerous assassins in the world, Antonio Garza.”
Rodriguez was shaking his head now, wondering if Salcido was aware of this press conference ahead of time. Surely he must understand he couldn’t possibly survive this announcement. There wouldn’t be enough protection in the world to prevent the Zutons from chopping his body into small pieces.
“It is the reason I made a special trip to Mexico recently to speak with this gentleman,” Fisk continued. “He was instrumental in our covert operation and will continue to be an enormous teammate in our fight against the cartels.”
At this point the screen split in half, showing the Fisk press conference on the left half and the right half showing file footage of Fisk’s visit with the two Mexican presidential candidates. Fisk was sitting next to President Salcido with a stiff back and a very formal expression common among two leaders who’d never met before.
“So it is with great pleasure,” Fisk said, “to announce that President Merrick will be endorsing Francisco Rodriguez for President of the great nation of Mexico.”
Rodriguez’s mouth hung open. “What did he say?” Rodriguez asked.
On the screen now was footage of Fisk’s recent visit with Rodriguez, sitting next to him with his arm around Rodriguez, laughing and smiling. Rodriguez would dip his head close to Fisk’s ear because of all the noise in the room, making it seem as if he was talking secretively. He suddenly remembered Fisk constantly speaking soft to Rodriguez. Too soft at times.
“No, no!” Rodriguez shouted. He stood up and found everyone in the room staring at him. “What are you looking at? He is lying.”
Fisk was now giving details of the subversive plot Rodriguez had devised to infiltrate the Zutons’ followers and gain the confidence of their lesser known gunmen.
Rodriguez felt his pulse pounding in his head, while his chest convulsed erratically.
“No, this is all a big conspiracy!” Rodriguez called out, throwing his glass of whisky at the TV and shattering the flat panel screen.
His security team observed him like a zoo animal, not knowing what to believe.
Rodriguez had to think fast. With each passing moment, Fisk was offering more evidence of his imaginary scheme.
He pointed his finger at his lead security agent. “Go get the car and bring it around back.”
The man hesitated, uncertainty on his face.
“Now!” Rodriguez yelled.
The man exited the room, leaving an awkward void behind.
The remaining occupants simply stared at Rodriguez with a trace of pity in their eyes.
Chapter 30
