“Senator Olson was a very good friend of mine, and I’m not in the mood to play these little games.” Michael pointed a finger at
Nance’s face. “You, Garret, and Arthur Higgins conspired to kill Senator Olson and
Congressman Turnquist. No one made a fake tape, and Director Stansfield didn’t force a false confession out of Higgins.
Let’s cut the crap and get down to business.”
“Mr. O’Rourke,’ replied Nance, “you are a very young man, and you do not fully understand the lengths to which some people are willing to go to get what they want in life. Do you think Mr. Stansfield rose to be the director of the world’s premier spy agency by being a Boy Scout?
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No, he will go to almost any length to get what he wants. Congressman, you are out of your league on this one. Maybe it would be best if you stepped outside and let us talk to Director Stansfield alone.” Pain began shooting through Michael’s temples as his anger grew. He fought to suppress it as he rose to his feet. Slowly, he took off his jacket and laid it over the back of his chair. Michael leaned across the table and stuck his hand in front of Nance’s face, his forefinger and thumb separated by less than an inch. “Mr.
Nance, I have about this much patience with you right now. You can either cut the shit and admit that you had Senator Olson and Congressman Turnquist killed, or I am going to walk out this door right now and hold a press conference.”
“Congressman O’Rourke, that would be a direct threat to the national security of the
United States of America, and I would be forced to stop you by whatever means necessary. Now, if you would please step outside, we would like to speak to Director
Stansfield alone for a minute.”
Michael took off his watch and placed it on the table. After tucking his tie into his shirt he pointed at Nance and said, “You are going to keep your slick mouth shut for the next two minutes while I talk to Mr. Garret, and I swear if you utter a single word, I’m going to come over there and knock your fucking head off.” Michael turned immediately to Garret. “All right, you’ve got one chance. I know you were involved, you know you were involved, and Director Stansfield knows you were involved.” Michael walked toward the far end of the table and continued talking. “You can either admit to what you did and live the rest of your life in relative comfort, or you can stand trial and spend the rest of your life rotting in jail.” Michael rounded the end of the table and started down the side where Garret and Nance were sitting.
“Of course, that’s assuming the assassins don’t get to you first.”
Garret was sitting closest to him.
Michael grabbed Garret’s chair and turned it toward him so Garret couldn’t look at
Nance. “You see, the assassins also wrote in the letter that if you and Nance tried to squirm your way out of this, they would hunt you down and kill you.”
“Mr. President,” shouted Nance. “This behavior is entirely unacceptable!” Before
Nance could get his next sentence out, Michael shouted, “I told you to keep your mouth shut!
That’s my last warning!” Garret began shaking and Michael leaned in closer, placing his hands on the armrests and bringing his face within inches of Garret’s. “What’s it going to be? The choice is simple.
Either you admit to what you did and walk away from this with your life, or you deny it and the whole country comes crashing down on you.
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Those assassins will release that tape if Nance doesn’t announce his resignation by noon tomorrow.” Michael screamed, “Now tell the truth!”
“I… I…” Garret started to stammer. “Stu, don’t answer him.”
Nance reached for the phone to call for the Secret Service agents standing watch outside the soundproof room. “I don’t know who in the hell you think you are.” Michael saw Nance reach for the phone, and with both hands on the armrests of Garret’s chair he jerked it out of his way. The chair, with Garret in it, slid across the floor and bounced into the wall. Michael took one step forward, raising his clenched left fist to his shoulder.
Nance had just got the phone to his ear when he looked up to see the looming O’Rourke.
Michael’s fist came crashing down like a piston, smacking Nance square in the nose and sending the national security adviser back in his chair and then springing him forward, his head thumping off the solid oak table. The only thing that kept Nance from falling to the floor was that his chin was stuck on the edge of the table. His arms dangled at his sides, and a small pool of blood formed under his nose. Neither Stansfield nor the
President moved. Michael turned to Garret with his fist still cocked. Lunging forward, he grabbed Garret by the tie, yanked him to his feet, and slammed him against the wall.
Michael released the tie and grabbed him by the throat. Garret reached up with both hands and pawed at Michael’s fist. O’Rourke’s hold was too strong. Michael squeezed harder, cutting off Garret’s windpipe.
In a voice loud enough so only Garret could hear, Michael said, “If I had it my way, I
would kill you right now. You’ve got one more chance to come clean and admit to what you did. If you don’t, I’m going to grab you by the hair and slam your face off that table until your head splits in half!” Michael let go of Garret’s throat and took ahold of the small patch of hair on the back of his head. Swinging him around, he presented the shaking chief of staff to Stansfield and the President. O’Rourke growled, “Tell them the truth!” Garret began whimpering, “It wasn’t my fault. It was Mike and Arthur’s idea.” The
President looked at Garret in utter shock. He couldn’t believe any of this was happening.
“It wasn’t my fault, Jim. I swear it wasn’t my fault,” pleaded Garret. Garret’s denial cum admission brought a second wave of uncontrollable anger rising up from within
