Pierce. “I don’t know what you’re after, Mr. President,” he finally announced, “but of course I’ll cooperate fully. And in return for my full cooperation I’d like to be able to retire gracefully after this is all over.”
“At the moment, Mason, I’m not in the mood to make deals nor am I really concerned about what happens to your sorry ass. You got caught for a crime that men better than you have been hung for. Now I suggest you sit right here with FBI Director Duncan and myself and tell us everything. And I mean everything. We’re short on time.”
“And what about my daughter? I was only trying to help with her drug problem. I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
Kelly flew at her father, screaming. The President restrained her at the last minute. “I hate you, Daddy. I hate you! You’re only concern about me was whether or not I would embarrass you. Did you know I won an award for creative writing at Sweet Briar as a sophomore? Do you even care?”
“Come on now, sweetheart, you know I was only trying to protect you from the ugliness of this world. I know I should have spent more time with you but I just couldn’t get away from my duties in Congress. I wanted so much to be someone you could look up to. Someone you could be proud of.”
“How can I be proud of someone I don’t even know?” She stood her ground, perhaps for the first time.
Dr. Weissman entered with a marine guard. After a nod from the President they escorted Kelly Stevens from the room. She held back for a moment and called to her father. “You never knew me. You don’t know anything about me. And you have no idea how much pain you’ve caused. To be honest, I like my new face. It separates me from your crimes and your ugly self indulgence.”
When the door closed Ross Pierce stared at Senator Stevens who was staring vacantly at the floor. His shoulders stooped. A political giant, an esteemed and feared senior senator now a lonely and broken man.
“Listen to me, Mason,” the President said quietly. “You’re going to tell us everything, right from the sordid beginning. I know you’re in bed with the Israeli ambassador and I want to know exactly what the two of you are up to. I have a feeling you probably don’t know how much of a pawn you’ve been in whatever game they are playing but we’ll discuss your situation later.” Stevens’ eyes remained fixed on the floor. The time for filibustering and goading was over. At least he was smart enough to know it.
“You can start with how much they paid you and where you’ve stashed the money,” FBI Director Duncan said.
For the better part of two hours the senator told them everything. He began with his growing concern over the past several years that the US was going soft on Arab terrorists and how, in his opinion, Israel deserved additional military and financial assistance. The struggling little nation needed to be fully equipped to support the United States in a war of retaliation to wipe out the terrorists and their sponsoring regimes once and for all. As far as the senator was concerned the only solution was a military one and he had pledged his support to assist Israel through his position in Congress and from his seat on various committees.
“Several months ago the Israeli ambassador came to me with a way of helping my daughter. He would help with her drug addiction by getting her into a special clinic for rehabilitation. He could arrange for a change in her identity and get her out of the country before she did me severe damage in the Senate. He would even arrange for a good job in one of the foreign embassies.” His mouth formed a hard thin line, well known on the Senate floor. “She’s my daughter. I had a responsibility to her. I did what I thought was right.”
“Where does Dr. Matthew Richards fit in?” Duncan asked.
“Him? The Israelis knew about his disgusting affair with my daughter. I imagine he got her hooked on drugs in the first place. They said they could get rid of him. All they wanted in return was some advance information on our strategies against terrorism.”
Pierce stood up. “That’s enough for now, Mason. You’ll be going with Director Duncan down to FBI headquarters to make an official statement.”
“But I must call my wife…”
“I’ll have someone call your wife and tell her not to expect you home for a few days.”
“But what about the Senate? I’ve got meetings and responsibilities…”
“It will be taken care of. And after this is all over you and I will sit down and decide what to do. And what would be in the best interests of the United States.”
Senator Stevens stood up to his full height. “And what if I just tell you to fuck off and I go to the press instead? My life is ruined already but I won’t let you ruin this great country. You’ve already gone soft on these Arab bastards. I knew you were a broken man after your time as a POW but no one would listen to me. You haven’t got the stomach for a real fight.”
“You only know one way to fight, Mason.” The President turned and looked out at the rose garden. “Head-on, guns blazing and mouth roaring. There is a time and a place for that approach, but if the only tool you’ve got is a hammer, then everything looks like a nail ready to be pounded. Democracy and the people of the United States of America will win this war, Senator, on that score you can be damned certain. But it will be done my way. In case you may have forgotten the American people elected me to run this country, not you, and certainly not the Israelis. If you want I can have you arrested for treason right now. Or we can do this the easy way for all of us.”
Ross Pierce looked directly into the Senator’s eyes. “Now dig deep, Senator. This may be the biggest decision of your life. You have served this great country for a long time. Don’t stop now.”
An ugly silence permeated the Oval Office. The director of the FBI stood back, immobile, a mere witness to the fate of a man, a Presidency, and a nation.
“Do you play poker, Mr. President?”
“Only occasionally, Senator. And tonight I’ve got the stronger hand.”
Senator Mason T. Stevens stepped back. “Good luck, Mr. President,” he said, his back ramrod straight, his jaw set. “You have my full cooperation. May God bless America.” A marine guard came in and escorted him down to the basement garage where Director Duncan’s car waited.
Director Duncan exhaled. “Jesus. I’m glad that’s over.”
“Me too.”
“Think he’ll play?”
“He’ll play. He’s a professional politician.”
“Maybe when this is over he should get one of those face transplants.”
Pierce shook his head. “No need for that.”
“Mr. President?”
“He’s two faced already. I’ve got one more job for you, Howard. I want your most trusted men to take William Fisher into custody and put the squeeze on him until he tells you everything concerning his association with Mohammed al Nagib. Use whatever methods work. I don’t care how you do it but I want every scrap of information out of him. Names, dates, places, contacts, everything. And keep him hidden away. We may need him again. Tomorrow morning you and I are going to meet with the Israeli ambassador and, how shall I say it, gain his unequivocal cooperation in putting an end to this terrorist game once and for all.”
“You’re walking a fine line here, Mr. President,” Duncan said shaking his head. “Some of what you’re asking me to do is illegal, or at least would be highly distasteful in the eyes of Americans. And I don’t have to tell you that what you’re about to do will probably put an end to your career.”
“My career is the least of my worries at the moment, Mr. Director. Besides, being President doesn’t pay that well. Now are you with me or not?”
“It would be my personal pleasure to help you solve this mess, Mr. President. I have grandchildren who deserve to live their life free from the threat of terrorist attacks and those who want to curtail freedom of thought and choice. I’ll call you this evening with an update on Mr. Fisher.” Duncan moved to the door. He paused before opening it. “When I was stationed in the Far East many years ago I heard a Chinese curse that went something like this: ‘May you live in interesting times.’ I’d say we are both cursed, Mr. President.”
“Let’s review that in six months, Howard.”
When the door closed President Pierce called the secretary of state, the national security advisor, and the attorney general to an impromptu meeting in the Oval Office. Then he got ready for his meeting with the Israeli Ambassador. After that, if fortune was still on his side he would craft his policy statement on terrorism to the nation and the world.
