“Hello. Who’s there?”
“I guess you’re not at the top of the food chain after all,” the familiar voice said.
Edward felt dizzy. His legs wobbled. President Claymore!
“I really wish you’d found that evidence, Edward. It would’ve given me great pleasure to take it and have you tried for treason, murder, and anything else I could come up with.”
Edward couldn’t speak. He looked over at Vernon, who stared back with a blank face.
“I know this comes as a shock, Edward. I wanted to stop you sooner, but my directions were to let you find the evidence first. By the way, Ian Goldberg and your other Cosmos Club cronies send their regrets.”
“Mr. President,” said Edward. “There’s no evidence I’ve done anything.” His head reeled. He struggled to regroup. “Although I may have, Mr. President, been out of line from time to time.”
“Yes you have, and I’m sure you know things will be extremely different from here on out.”
“Yes, Mr. President. I agree. Things will have to be different.” There it is. The weakness. He’s going to let me go.
“You know, Edward, I can forgive almost anything. You’ve been a thorn in my flesh the entire time I’ve been in the White House, and you’ve done some pretty despicable things.”
“Mr. President, I’m sure…”
“You tried to have me killed, you bastard!”
“Mr. President, it wasn’t me. It…”
“Don’t deny it Edward. Your friends in the Middle East gave us all the details. Suraya was especially accommodating. He says you hired the death squad. Something about oil, remember? Vernon verified everything.”
Edward looked at Vernon. The Director smiled.
“Mr. President, there’s been a mistake.”
“Yes, not taking care of you a long time ago.” Edward hung his head, closed his eyes, and took a long, deep breath.
“You’ve got me, Mr. President. I admit my intentions concerning the oil, but I did not hire anybody to kill you.”
“What about President Kennedy, Edward? What about him?” Edward looked at the empty casket. “I have no knowledge of President Kennedy’s killers or conspirators, Mr. President. I’m just as curious as you. I wanted to find the truth.” President Claymore didn’t answer.
“Mr. President. Sir. Mr. President.”
“Listen, you self-serving son of a bitch,” snapped the President.
“You took something this country will never get back. You didn’t pull the trigger, but you killed him just the same.” Edward gritted his teeth. “Sir, the country was never that innocent, and neither was Kennedy.”
“No, Edward. No he wasn’t. But whatever he was, he didn’t deserve assassination.”
“Who deserves to die is a question for those who have power over life and death, Mr. President. Those in power decide. Who are we to criticize? Who are we to complain?”
“Edward, I have no hope for men such as you, but life and death are God’s decisions.”
“Men are instruments of God, sir.”
More silence.
“Goodbye Edward. I hope hell holds the answers for you.” The phone went dead and Edward handed it back to Vernon. So I won’t get the oil fields. So what.
“I’m going to my office, Vernon. Remember, you’ve disappointed me, and I won’t forget it.”
Edward tried to force his way past the agents but was pushed back.
He spun around, angry. Vernon pointed a gun at his head. “Leave us,” the Director said, calm and matter- of-fact.
“Vernon, what’s going on?”
The men left. Vernon steadied his aim. “Don’t look so surprised Edward. You played the game and lost. You know the rules better than anyone. In this game losers die.”
“You were there too! You’re as guilty as I am!”
“True,” said Vernon. “Life’s a bitch, huh?” Edward watched Vernon’s finger flex back on the trigger. He saw a flash, and something burned in his throat. He grabbed at it with both hands, elbows out, and dropped to his knees, choking and struggling for air.
He looked up at Vernon, pleading, begging. The gun discharged again, and the bullet tore through his skull.
He saw his father and grandfather, standing in a fog just a few feet away. Edward reached out for them, but they turned their backs.
You’ve failed.
38
“Hey partner, ready to get started?” a jovial voice asked.
Andre looked up from the control board. Jeff Christian, his partner in the control room, looked down with a big country grin.
“More than ready,” said Andre. “And you’re late.”
“All that good lovin’ at home has a man hooked. You know, newlywed stuff?” He winked at Andre, slapped him on the back and laughed, a gesture the Russian hated.
“I know what you mean, but you better get your butt in gear.”
“Hey, if I’m gonna get fired, good lovin’s just as good a reason as any.
Anything exciting going on so far?
“No, but I see our new Justice is settling in.”
“I’ll say. They say she got here at six this morning. Surprised everyone. Captain Reasons counseled her on calling when she wants to come in early. They all do it when they first start. Eagerness, I guess.”
“I guess,” echoed Andre. “Any changes to her schedule?”
“Yes. I picked up The Watcher on my way down.” The Watcher, a daily report circulated to security throughout the building, outlined the details of every Justice’s schedule.
“It says Justice Patrick will be leaving for a luncheon at Georgetown University and be back here late this evening. But it hasn’t been confirmed. We’ll get a final update to the report soon.” Andre grimaced, then caught himself. If she intends on keeping that lunch date, she’s sadly mistaken..
“Where’s she now?”
At an orientation with the Chief Justice, then back to her office to unpack.”
The phone rang, Jeff answered, and from all the yes sirs and his respectful tone, Andre knew Captain Reasons was on the other end of the line. Jeff hung up. “Captain’s on his way down. He wanted to make sure you were here. Said it’s important, and for you to stay until he arrives.”
The fax machine buzzed, and paper filled the tray.
“Really,” said Andre, his heart pounding. “Wonder what that’s all about?”
“Probably wants to give you a raise, promotion, and use of Air Force One.” Jeff laughed so hard his face turned red. “I guess I really better start coming in early, good lovin’ or not.” Andre laughed. Have I been found out? How? Who? He took the fax from the tray and read it. It’s the revised schedule. She’s in her chambers.
The door opened and Captain Reasons bounded in, all smiles and backslaps.
“Tom my boy,” he exclaimed. “Good news. Wanted to tell you myself.”
Jeff pretended to focus on the screens in front of him. Andre mustered an inquisitive look. “Good news, sir?”
“Yes. It seems they want a new face over at the White House.
Someone with electronic surveillance experience. I sent your file over and they’re reviewing it. The Secret Service wants you over there right away for screening and questioning. So pack up and move out.”
“The White House,” Jeff exclaimed. “No kidding?” Captain Reasons glared at Jeff. “And I’ll be talking to you
