And Young loathed every moment of it. The American people had been duped into believing Michaels was actually a decent human being. Young knew the truth.
Young’s phone rang from an unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Noah, this is J.D. Blunt. Can you talk right now?”
“Sure. What do you want?”
“To be honest, I want my life back—and I want Michaels gone.”
“Good luck with that,” Young said. “That ship sailed a long time ago. We have the most forgiving populace on the planet.”
“They might be forgiving, but they certainly don’t like being made fools of.”
“And who’s making fools of them?”
“Your boss is. He’s continuing to play this game in the shadows and has gotten away with it so far. But you can put a stop to that.”
“How exactly do you expect me to do that? Anything I do now could be considered a power grab, especially right before the election. I’d even be sabotaging my own political career.”
“Did you take this job because you wanted to further your political career? Or did you take it because you wanted to help your country?”
Young sighed. “I did it because I thought I could actually make a difference, but now . . .”
“You still can make a difference if you help get Michaels out of office and save America from his meddling ways. Leaving him in a position of power will result in some dark days ahead. He’s in danger of destabilizing the entire Middle East even more so than it already is and empowering terrorists to bring their tactics to U.S. soil.”
“You know how I feel about him.”
“I do, which is why I’m coming to you with this plea to help stop him.”
“So, what exactly can I do? I can’t forcibly remove him.”
“Everything will take care of itself if you do what I tell you,” Blunt said. “You can assure that his reputation is destroyed once and for all. All the questions that will arise should result in some heated congressional hearings. And I don’t even think his party will want to defend him after the truth surfaces.”
“What do you think he’s going to confess to? He’s still never admitted he ever did anything wrong.”
“If he thinks he’s talking to you as his trusted vice president, he might let his guard down.”
“That’s a big if. I certainly am not under any illusion that he trusts me.”
“But he might,” Blunt said. “Give him a reason to. You can come up with something.”
“And then you just expect him to magically divulge the darkest of secrets that will end his aspirations at another term and could possibly land him in prison?”
“I know it might be a long shot, but it’s one of the few we have at this point. If there was another way. . .”
Young huffed a short breath through his nose. “There’s always another way.”
“Not necessarily legal ones. This one needs to happen the right way. We’re not a banana republic—at least, not yet anyway.”
“Do you have proof of what he’s doing?”
“Wikileaks has already shown what he’s up to.”
“But only the tinfoil hat wearers believe that, which is a small part of the population. The media has moved on from that story. It’s been relegated to the trash heap that is fake news.”
“All you need to do is have him tell you what he’s done. Once that recording goes public, the media won’t be able to ignore that story.”
“I’ll give it a shot,” Young said. “But I wouldn’t get my hopes up. If there’s anything I’ve learned about Michaels while working with him over the past four years, it’s that he is savvy and can see things coming far before anyone else.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
“Just don’t call me again,” Young said. “I don’t want to raise any suspicion. I’ll call you from another number.”
Blunt gave Young his number before they ended their call.
Young immediately dialed Michaels’ secretary. She was always helpful with his requests and found a 15-minute window she could squeeze him into later that afternoon.
* * *
YOUNG ENTERED MICHAELS’ OFFICE and strode across the room before taking a seat across from the president. Michaels’ head was buried in a document and he didn’t bother to look up.
“What is it, Noah?” he asked. “I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m extremely busy these days.”
“I understand, but I wanted to talk about something I heard.”
Michaels sighed and dropped the papers on his desk. “Oh, great. Now the rumor mill is creating interruptions in my day. What is it this time?”
“Don’t act like this is some intrusion into your work time. What I’m about to ask you about might be what saves your presidency.”
“As if that’s something you care about, seeing how as recently as a year ago you tried to steal my chair.”
Young shook his head. “I was just following the protocol of the United States Constitution. When you’re relieved of duty, I take over. It’s really very simple. And do I need to remind you that you willingly stepped down during the investigation?”
“Will you get on with it? Unlike you, I’m not just a figurehead.”
“As you wish,” Young said. “I wanted to speak with you today because I heard that it’s possible that you may have been sending arms to some—how shall I say it—non-state actors in the Middle East?”
“This is a rumor now? Wikileaks splashed this all over their front page a few days ago—but the story was deemed contrived. Besides, I’d never send weapons to any terrorists. I’m insulted that you’d believe such an accusation for even a split second, especially after it has been debunked.”
“I’m not talking about Wikileaks,” Young said. “I’ve heard this from several other sources. Apparently, there’s more to this than just
