I looked at Jennie and pointed at my watch. Maybe five minutes. Time was really short. Jennie looked around and asked, 'Well? Do Sean and I have permission to say yes, or is it no?'
All eyes shifted back to Mrs. Hooper.
She said, 'You may negotiate, but not commit.' Typical politician.
Jennie said, 'That won't do. They'll insist on a firm answer. Yes or no?'
Mrs. Hooper replied, 'I've given you permission to negotiate. That's more than enough.'
Seconding Jennie, I said, 'It's not. Don't assume these people are stupid, Mrs. Hooper. We know they're not- right?'
She looked at Jennie, and then me. 'Deal with it.'
My phone rang again. Thinking it was Tingle again, I lifted it up and said, 'Look, I know you're pissed, but we're a little busy over here.'
I heard a harsh laugh. A voice said, 'I'll bet you're busy as all hell, son' The voice was male and middle-aged, with a smoker's rasp, the accent was Texan, and the tone sounded folksy and condescending, like he held all the cards, which wasn't at all presumptuous. The man on the other end of the line was not Tingle. But neither did he sound like Jason Barnes, which was a bit disappointing.
I waved my arm, and in a tone as good-humored as I could manufacture, I asked, 'Is this who I think it is?'
'You ain't got a fuckin' clue who I am. Let's not pretend otherwise.'
'I do know you've really caused us a lot of trouble.'
'Well, hey… this ain't good news, I'm sure, but you ain't seen shit yet,'
Jennie had dashed around the table and now stood beside me, bent over, her face brushing mine, straining to overhear his words.
'Neither have you, pal. Seriously. The President's hidden inside a deep hole, somewhere up in, I think, Alaska. He's at the bottom of an old missile silo surrounded by a regiment of pissed-off Army Rangers. You won't get him, but we will get you.'
He chuckled. 'Who gives a shit where you got him hid. Never actually said we're gonna git him, did we?'
'I… what?'
'Well, sheeit, boy, read the note. We never said we were gonna kill that sonuvabitch. Jus' said he's history. Think about it.'
Before I could reply, he said, 'Hey, tell you what. Fifty million's the price and it ain't open to debate. You pay… we'll quit fuckin' with you. You don't… the next one'll really suck. Simple deal. Call you back in a minute.'
The line suddenly went dead.
I said, 'Shit.'
Jennie said, 'He's changing cell phones. He's using throw-aways, so we can't get a fix.'
In fact, an agent slipped into the conference room, shook his head, and said, 'Too fast,' then slipped back out.
Jennie informed the rest of the task force, 'We've been looking in the wrong direction. He says they may not want to kill the President.'
Proving that all politics is local, Chuck Wardell slid back into his chair and commented, 'Thank God.'
Mrs. Hooper asked, 'Then what do they have in mind?'
I informed her, 'Not what-who.'
The phone rang and I again answered, 'Drummond.'
'Hey. Well, you got an answer for me, boy?'
'Look, we've got a small problem here.'
He laughed, 'You got a lot a problems, none of which are small.'
Asshole. 'Okay, for starters… how do we know you're the real McCoy? We're a little deluged with assholes calling and claiming credit. How do I know you're the right asshole?'
'I like that.' He laughed again. 'For a stupid butthead who's run hisself silly the past two days, it's real good you still got a sense of humor.' He stopped laughing. 'But don't fuck with me, son. Maybe I'll put a Bouncin' Betty up yer ass, too.'
Jennie overheard this exchange and whispered, 'Stay cool.'
I drew a long breath. 'A lot of people know Fineberg got it with a mine.'
'Yeah? Hey, guess that's right… news gits 'round, don't it?' He laughed again. 'Now tell me, how many of them folks know how them three jerkoffs in Belknap's basement got it? I did the little gal at the commo console myself. Three shots straight into her right side, boom-boom-boom. You shoulda seen that gal's body twitch and bounce, Drummond. One of my partners did the other two, the asshole who was sleepin' and the idiot in the chair.'
'Fuck you.'
He laughed. 'Aw hell… don't go all pissy on me. You asked for proof, I try to be helpful, and now you go actin' like a porkypine with a burr up its ass. Yer hard to please. Hey… call you back in a minute.'
The line went dead again. Everyone began chattering at once.
Jennie said, 'Don't let him goad you, Sean. Stay cool. This is just business.'
Mrs. Hooper ordered, 'Negotiate, Drummond. Find out what they have in mind next.'
Mr. Halderman advised, 'Emphasize that all the sea- and airports are completely covered. Tell him they should give up- they'll never make it out of this country alive.'
I nearly got up and walked out. But I knew they had the best intentions. I tried to think. I glanced at my watch. Thirty more seconds. It was important to take away the initiative, but nothing was coming to me.
Jennie clearly understood this and announced to all concerned, 'We have to set up a deal with these people. We need to buy time.'
Mrs. Hooper kept shaking her head.
Jennie and I exchanged glances. Not good.
The phone rang. I lifted it up, and the voice said, 'Okay, Drummond, here's the deal. You ain't got the brass to make this decision, so probably you got a bunch of important assholes sit-tin' 'round you. Tell 'em I got a target in my sights. All I gotta do is push this teeny button, and boom, this President's got one less high-level asshole. Got that?'
'Yeah, and-'
'What're you waitin' for, boy? Do it.'
I put my hand over the phone and explained our predicament.
I put the phone back to my mouth. 'Done.'
'Okeydokey. Now, what's the answer? Fifty million, or you gonna try playin' dick-around with me?'
Something in his tone sounded wrong. I slapped my hand over the phone again and yelled, 'Right now-he wants an answer.'
We all looked at Mrs. Hooper. This was developing really quickly Mrs. Hooper kept shaking her head.
Looking at her, I said, 'He's serious. Yes or no?'
She stared at the tabletop for about ten seconds. She said nothing.
Then, through the earphone, I heard a loud blast. The line went dead again.
I put down the phone. 'Shit. He just murdered somebody.'
Mrs. Hooper avoided my eyes and asked, 'Who?'
'How the hell would I know?'
We all looked at one another. For once, nobody said a word until the phone rang again. I picked it up and demanded, 'Who did you just murder?'
'That? Aw, jus' the head of the Republican National Committee. Hey, you believe he's got a mistress over by Dupont Circle? Married man, too. What'n the hell's this world comin' to, huh? Y'know, all this shit goin' on… and that horny bastard jus' had to sneak off and get a little afternoon poon.' He added, 'By the way, cash, used fifties and hunnerds. Oh, and none of that sneaky shit them Treasury assholes like to try. We'll look, we know what to look for, and if we find something, it's gonna really suck for you.'
I put my hand over the phone and informed everybody that the RNC just got a job opening. Mrs. Hooper's eyes shot wide open. She said, 'Danny Carter… he… oh God… he…' Then she suddenly started crying.
I no longer needed, nor did I wait, for a consensus or permission. I said, 'Deal.'
'Well, yee-haw. Good call, boy.'
