'Your concern is much appreciated,' Peckham said.
.
WHITE HOUSE PRESS ROOM
1000 HOURS
OWEN Peckham stood at the end of the short hall leading into the press room, with his hand on the doorknob. After three deep, steadying breaths, he opened the portal and stepped inside the room.
Now showing a confident and cheerful grin, he strode up to his podium and set his notes down on it. 'Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! So nice to see you today.' He nodded to several people he knew personally and had hobnobbed with at various social functions around Washington. 'Hello, David. How are you, Betty? Jim, you're looking quite chipper today.'
The crowd of journalists, all well known to the American public, sat in anticipation of the coming press conference, hoping something would happen, such as Peckham making a glaring slip in which some phenomenal misconduct by a member of the White House staff would be revealed.
'First I have some announcements to make,' Peckham said. 'As you know, indictments have gone out this week regarding the lobbying scandal. At this point I have no statements to make regarding that unhappy situation until the accused have shown up in court to plead their innocence or guilt. That's the American way; at least as long as we follow the principle of those under indictment being innocent until proven otherwise.'
But that did not deter Joyce Bennington of the Boston World Journal. 'How far into the White House has this situation penetrated?'
'As I said, Joyce,' Peckham replied, 'no statements will be issued at this time.' He turned to his notebook. 'The border security question is firmly resolved with the approval of not only National Guard but also active duty military units bolstering the Border Patrol until all the safeguards such as fences--both physical and electronic--are installed.'
Brian Mackenzie of the Ontario People's Advocate spoke up. 'Does the President really feel these drastic steps are necessary?'
'I wouldn't employ the adjective 'drastic,' ' Peckham said, smiling at the Canadian. 'I believe 'necessary' would be a more appropriate description. Anyhow, I'm surprised you're not up there in Canada looking into your own immigration procedures.' He shifted into an impersonator, speaking in a contrived Canadian accent. 'And I believe they've proved somewhat inadequate, hey?'
Some chuckles showed appreciation for his mimicry, and a wag in the back of the room spoke to the Canadian journalist, also out to hassle the guy, 'You Canucks better start being more careful about all them foreign hosers getting visas to come to your snow pile, hey? There's probably more terrorists in Toronto than Baghdad, hey?'
'Now, now,' Peckham said, 'let's not make light of our neighbors to the north.'
But he couldn't suppress a grin at that one; Mackenzie was a royal pain in the ass. 'And to change the subject, all the misspent money on hurricane relief has been identified and the people responsible for this mismanagement face penalties for these oversights and mismanagement. I'm sorry, but I have no names to give you right at this time.' He paused and surveyed the crowd. 'Now I'm ready for more of your questions.'
A short, pudgy man quickly got to his feet, quickly identifying himself. 'Dirk Wallenger, Global News Broadcasting.'
Peckham flinched inwardly in spite of the friendly smile he showed to Wallenger. 'How are you, Dirk?'
'Fine, thank you, Owen,' Wallenger said. 'I am wondering if you have any comment or news regarding the wounded Arab prisoner who was summarily executed by an American Special Forces group in western Afghanistan on the seventeenth of June.'
'I know nothing of the incident,' Peckham stated, truly puzzled. 'May I inquire as to your sources?'
'I'm afraid not,' Wallenger said. 'But I can ensure you that they are impeccable and accurate.'
'I'll have to investigate the incident and get back to you on that,' Peckham said. 'But I can tell you now that the White House has not received word from the Pentagon about any prisoners being executed.'
'Maybe not,' Wallenger said, 'but would the people in the Department of Defense inform the President of such an incident?'
'Of course they would,' Peckham said.
'Does that mean you deny it?'
'Dirk, I can neither deny nor confirm it until inquiries have been made.' He pointed to another journalist, knowing that the opening rounds in a new slant of the antiwar campaign had just been introduced.
.
OVAL OFFICE WHITE HOUSE
1400 HOURS
'I just wish I knew where that tubby little son of a bitch gets his news tips.'
The President's voice was edged in anger as he sat at his desk looking across at Owen Peckham, Arlene Entienne, and Colonel John Turnbull of SOLS.
'If he's been given the correct location it has to come from somewhere within the Persian Empire caper,' Arlene said.
'That's what I was afraid of,' the President said. 'Evidently something critical has occurred in one of our most sensitive areas.' He glanced at Turnbull. 'Isn't that where we're having a standoff with an Iranian Special Forces team?'
Turnbull nodded. 'Yes, Mr. President. It's been dubbed Operation Battleline.' He shifted in his chair. 'Maybe this Wallenger punk is blowing smoke. The screeching leftists haven't had a chance to raise hell for a few months now.'
'He's a radical, alright,' Peckham said, 'but he would never make a statement at a White House press briefing unless he knew it to be true.' He quickly added, 'Or had some evidence that made it seem to be true.'
The President had to admit that Peckham was right. 'I believe Carl Joplin and Edgar Watson are in the vicinity of Persian Empire, are they not?'
'Yes, sir,' Arlene said. 'They're the other half of the Lamp Committee.' She was referring to a small group including her, Colonel Turnbull, Joplin, and Watson, that had been set up to deal with the mysterious intelligence informant who had been code-named Aladdin. 'We thought it best to have them handy in case this situation with Aladdin broke wide open.'
'It's hard to believe that such a thing could happen,' Turnbull said. 'I've become extremely familiar with that SEAL officer Brannigan over the past year. His men are considered wild and almost unpredictable, but I doubt if they would kill a wounded EPW in cold blood. If such a thing happened, they must have had a reason.' He paused for a moment. 'But it could have happened in the heat of battle or if something awry threw a desperate situation further out of kilter.'
'God!' the President said. 'I hope not.
But we have to make a thorough investigation of this thing. Arlene, send word to Carl and Edgar to look into this and get a report back to me ASAP.'
'Yes, Mr. President.'
.
GNB STUDIOS
WASHINGTON, D. C.
15 JULY 2258 HOURS
THE broadcast area was quiet as Dirk Wallenger settled down at the desk on the set. His notes were arranged in front of him, and the teleprompter was keyed up and ready to go. He was eager for the night's program to begin, and everyone in the studio realized the importance of the news about to be broadcast. Even the network president, Don Allen, stood behind the cameras to witness the event. The credits began rolling at 11 P. M., announcing the Wallenger Report with Dirk Wallenger. At exactly the right moment the floor director looked at the commentator and counted, 'Five, four, three, two, one, go!'
'Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,' Wallenger said the instant the red light glowed on the camera to his direct front. 'This is Dirk Wallenger with breaking news from the war in the Middle East. And do not expect to see anything of this story for a few days on other broadcasts. This information came to me through my network of concerned informers. My expose of the incident will force the other TV news organizations to acknowledge it
