President was being attended to by one of Hopkinson’s assistants, who was wiping makeup off his ice. “Sir, you did a wonderful job. I haven’t seen the press this together on an issue in a long time.
They bought the whole speech, hook, line, and sinker.” Stevens showed a slight grin.
“Yes, it looks like it was a winner.” The President nodded toward the four TVs that were turned on. Only the sound on the one tuned to ABC was up. The White House correspondents for the three networks and CNN were all standing in different areas around the White House, giving their summation of the President’s speech. When they were finished, the anchors took over for their take on the event, and then the special analysts came on to give their two cents. The media loved it. The story just kept getting better and better, and with it, so did their ratings.
The public’s desire to watch this real-life drama was insatiable. When all the makeup was removed from the President’s face, he buttoned the top button of his shirt and slipped his tie back into a tight knot.
Hopkinson turned his attention away from the TVs and back to the President. “Sir, I
really think we’re going to see a big jump in your approval ratings tomorrow.” Garret and
Nance entered the room. Garret slapped Hopkinson on the back and congratulated him on a job well done.
Garret then nodded at the door, and the communications director grabbed his assistant and quietly retreated. Garret turned to Stevens and grinned from ear to ear. “Nice job, Jim.” Stevens looked up and smiled.
“Thank you.”
“I can’t believe the way this thing is coming together. The press is eating it up. If we can pass a budget, we won’t even have to hold an election next year.” Garret could barely contain his excitement.
The thought of locking up a second term this early was appealing. Not having to crisscross the country for three months campaigning was even more appealing. Sure, they would have to work a little, but not like last time. Instead of three states a day, and a speech every two hours for the last month, they could relax and run a TV campaign out of the White House. It would be so nice not to have to go out and press flesh with every
Tom, Dick, and Harry, Garret thought to himself. Nance was standing off to the side, watching the President and Garret. Nance let them continue to speculate about a second term for a minute and then stepped in. “I hate to ruin your little celebration here, but the elections are a long way off, and a lot could happen between now and then.” The comment got both Garret’s and the President’s attention, and both men became more serious. “You’ve done a great job solidifying this coalition on such short notice, and hopefully, if things go well, we’ll pull it off But, we need to understand that this new alliance could fall apart, just as fast or faster than it was put together.”
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Nance paused for effect. “The New York Times printed a poll today that said over thirty-seven percent of the people they surveyed said the country had not suffered by losing Basset, Koslowski Fitzgerald, and Downes. I’m getting a sense that the common person is empathizing with these assassins. The people are fed up with politics as usual, and if we’re not careful, we’re going to turn these assassins into dragon slayers. We can’t ignore them. They are not just going to go away.”
Nance walked over to the fireplace, his hand on his chin and his forefinger tapping his lips. “They will strike again, and they will continue to strike until we give in or they get caught.” Nance turned around and looked at the President and Garret. “We’d better hope they slip up, because if they don’t, that alliance will crumble. None of those men have the guts to put their lives on the line if this thing gets any hotter.” The assassin sat in his car across the street from the local ABC studio. It was not the first time he’d waited for the news van to return from the White House, but it would be the last.
Just after midnight, the van that was assigned to the White House returned and drove into the underground parking garage. The assassin waited for another twenty minutes, then got out of the car, grabbing the video camera and backpack. As he walked across the street, he put the camera up on his right shoulder and tilted his head down. The brim of his hat and the camera screened his face. On his way through the front door, he passed a female reporter and cameraman on their way out.
They were both wearing red, Gore-Tex ski jackets with the ABC logo over their left breast. The assassin kept his head down and headed straight for the stairs leading to the underground parking garage.
When he reached the garage, he waved to the security guard, who was sitting in a room with a large glass window. The man had his feet up on the desk and was watching
TV. He casually looked up and, upon seeing the red jacket and camera, turned his attention back to the TV.
The assassin walked through the row of vans and cars and stopped when he reached the one with the right license plate. It took him less than thirty seconds to pick the lock.
Casually, he slid the door open and climbed in, closing it behind him. Setting the camera down, he grabbed an electric screwdriver out of his backpack and went to work. A
minute later, he popped the cover off the control board and started searching for the right wires. After finding them, he spliced several wires and carefully attached a transponder.
When he was done, he tested the transponder several times, then put the cover back on the control board. Packing up his gear, he stepped out of the van and locked the door.
Once again, he walked by the window on his way to the stairs, his face covered by the brim of his hat and the camera. Outside, the assassin climbed behind the wheel of the
Ford Taurus and drove west on K Street through downtown. It was almost 1 A.M. and the traffic was light.
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Several miles later, he turned onto Wisconsin Avenue and headed north.
The pedestrian traffic was quite a bit busier in Georgetown, as the young professionals and college kids tried to get a head start on the weekend. Almost a mile later, he pulled into the Safeway on Wisconsin and Thirty-fourth Street. Even at this hour, the parking lot was half-full. That was what he wanted. If a cop drove by, he wouldn’t think twice about a man sitting alone in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour grocery store. He would assume he was waiting for his wife, but if he was seen parked alone on a side street, that would be a different story.
He pulled the car into a spot up front and tilted the steering wheel all the way up. He took the wig, hat, and
