by Ken Fite
“So what do you think of the White House so far?” asked President Keller as he looked across the table.
Matthew glanced up at his mom, then shrugged. “It’s smaller than I thought it’d be, I guess.”
Keller laughed to himself. “Well, you only got to see a small part of the building. Trust me, there’s a lot more to it. Most people have never seen everything there is to see here. That includes your uncle Blake.”
“I know all about it,” said Matthew as a smile spread across his face. “You’ve got a command center underneath the East Wing. It’s like a bunker. You can get there from the Oval Office somehow, I think.” He paused as his mother’s eyes grew wide, and she stared across the table at Jami and me. “And there’s a tunnel that links the East Wing to the Treasury Building. I’m pretty sure it’s not used, though,” he added.
Keller laughed again as Chef Gregory, the president’s personal chef, entered the room and refilled our drinks. The president leaned in close and whispered something to Chef, who nodded and left the room.
There was silence for a moment as Matthew went back to playing with his food, and Kate glanced at me. Jami grabbed my hand. Our fingers interlocked and we took in the moment as Keller cleared his throat.
“Blake tells me you want to be a Secret Service agent one day,” he said to Matthew, who nodded to the president as Chef came back into the room, carrying something. Chef walked around to Keller and handed him a small wooden box. Keller set it down on the table carefully. He held it steady with one hand and opened the lid with the other and reached inside. Came out with a small gold shield and stood up slowly.
Keller walked over to the boy and gestured for him to stand up and face him. “Matthew, today I’m making you an honorary Secret Service agent,” said Keller as he carefully pinned the shield onto his shirt. “Now you keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary, okay?”
Matthew smiled and nodded that he would.
I glanced across the table and saw Kate starting to tear up. I thought about her husband and how Matthew would be missing that father figure in his life. A piece missing from the boy’s heart that I wanted to fill. For the last three months, I’d spent a lot of time with Matthew as Jami stayed by her sister’s side. First at the hospital, then at home as she recovered. I looked to my left. Realized the president had stepped away from Matthew and had gone back to the box and reached inside for something else. I waited to see what it was. Keller grew silent. Everyone else inside the room was smiling and staring at me.
“Blake, what you did in Chicago was a true act of courage,” Keller said.
Jami squeezed my hand and put her other hand on my arm lovingly. Kate was still smiling across the table. Matthew was looking at his shield.
“Our country owes you, son,” added Keller. “Now I know you’d never agree to doing this publicly, so—”
“Mr. President,” I said, interrupting the man, but he held a hand out in front of him and shook his head.
“Blake, I’d like for you to not give me a hard time for once.” He stepped behind me. Placed a medal over my head, and it rested on my chest. I looked down at it as Keller stepped back toward his spot at the table.
He remained standing and rested his hands on the back of his chair. I glanced back. Noticed the wedding band he refused to stop wearing after his wife passed away. Keller kept a downward gaze, trying to find the right words to say. I glanced at Chef Gregory as he watched from the door with his hands clasped together, taking in the moment himself.
Keller took a deep breath and let it out as he looked across at me. “Blake, thank you for what you’ve done for our country and for all of us. Do you know what that is, son?”
I nodded. Looked down at my chest again. “It’s the Medal of Freedom, sir,” I said and glanced back.
The room was silent as Keller nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “It’s the highest award a president can bestow to a civilian of the United States.” He paused and glanced back down at the table in front of him. “It’s for the Commander in Chief to recognize those who’ve made an especially meritorious contribution to the security or national interests of the United States. It’s for people who’ve made a real difference.”
There was another long pause. I glanced down and carefully picked up the medal and stared at it. It was attached to a wide blue ribbon with white stripes along the edge. The medal itself was a large star with white enamel and a red pentagon behind it. Inside the star was a blue circle with thirteen small gold stars. I thought about the life I used to live. First as a Navy SEAL—trained by Keller himself—a former SEAL, when I was just a kid in high school. Then as the special agent in charge of the first Department of Domestic Counterterrorism field office in Chicago after I left the service. Then as Keller’s special advisor on counterterrorism and the black ops team he’d asked me to run for him. I was committed to being in Matthew’s life now, but I missed working for the president and the life I lived before the attack in Chicago.
“The people of this country will never know everything you’ve done for them and for me,” added Keller. “But we know.” He looked at each of those seated at the table in turn, then glanced at me. “Life often requires sacrifice, and that means deciding what you’re willing to give up. Thank you for your sacrifice.”
Chef Gregory stepped out momentarily and returned with cake. He set it down at the edge of the table and cut it into pieces and gave one to each of us as Keller took his seat back at the head of the table.
“What about you, Chef?” I asked as he went to the door and started to leave. “Sit with us and have a slice.”
Chef turned back from the door. “I’m good, Mr. Jordan. Got me another one in the kitchen, all to myself.”
There was laughter at the table. Chef smiled and let himself out of the room and held the door open. Then a man in a suit stepped inside. It was Ethan Meyer, the man who replaced Emma Ross as chief of staff after the scandal that happened during the terror attack in Chicago. A scandal the public would never know about. Meyer was an older man in his mid-sixties. He took in the room as he went to Keller and whispered something to him. The president furrowed his brow and looked at Meyer as he stood over him.
“Right now?” asked Keller.
Meyer stepped back and nodded once.
The president sighed heavily. He thought about it for a moment. “Fine,” he continued. “Tell him I’ll be there shortly and we’ll talk about it.”
I glanced at Jami, then turned back and watched Meyer step out and disappear. “Everything okay?”
Keller shook his head. “It never ends,” he said and pushed his cake away from him. Keller stood and glanced at Jami, Matthew, and then Kate. “Thank you very much for visiting me this weekend. And again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Matthew was staring at his shield, but turned to look at Keller as the president approached and crouched to get eye level with the boy.
“And thank you for coming to visit with me.”
Matthew nodded.
Keller tapped on the gold shield. “Remember what I told you. Keep your eyes peeled.”
Matthew smiled and nodded again as the president smiled back and stood and patted the boy on the back.
I pushed my chair out and got to my feet. Went to the door and shook Keller’s hand and thanked him. I saw concern in his eyes. He said nothing. Just stepped past me and hurried out.
FOUR
TOM PARKER WAITED for Keller inside the Oval Office, just down the hall from the president’s dining room. He was seated at one of two couches adjacent to the Resolute desk. A Secret Service agent stood silently in the room next to the door, staring at him. Parker checked his watch. He sighed and stroked his graying mustache. Then he opened a manila envelope and skimmed through the contents as he waited.
A man in his mid-fifties, Parker had helped find the man responsible for the terror attack in Chicago three months earlier. As a result, Keller had asked him to create an off-the-books b
lack ops unit, and worked with Parker’s superiors at Homeland to make it happen. A similar team had been created before, but the New York Times had discovered it and did what they did best—outing the president for putting it together.
But this time, it was different. This time, Keller was doing things the right way, forming the team through DHS. A lot had changed in three months. Parker had been planning an early retirement from Homeland. But now, he and his team were working harder than ever. He checked his watch again as the door opened.
Ethan Meyer stepped inside, followed by Keller. They walked across the oval-shaped carpet as Parker stood from the couch. “Tom?” asked the president, looking both surprised and annoyed at the same time.
“Mr. President,” he replied and glanced over Keller’s shoulder, watching the door close behind him.
The Secret Service agent remained in the room. Still standing by the inside door, silent, looking away.
“Please sit down,” said Keller as he and Meyer took a seat on the other couch directly across from Parker. “This isn’t a good time,” said Keller in a low voice, glancing briefly at Meyer then at him. “I had guests.”
Parker nodded. “I understand. But something’s come up that you need to know about.”
“And it can’t wait until morning?”
Parker said nothing. Just shook his head seriously.
“Okay, what is it?”
Parker cleared his throat. “Mr. President, we need to speak in private.”
Keller held a hand out in front of him. “Tom, whatever you need to tell me, you can say in front of Ethan.”
Parker looked past Meyer and glanced briefly at the agent standing silently against the wall. His eyes returned to Keller’s, and he raised his eyebrows slightly, trying to tell the president what he really meant.
“Agent Bennett,” said Keller over his shoulder, “would you please give us the room for a few minutes?”
Parker watched the agent’s eyes shift over to where they were seated. The agent said he’d be on the other side of the door and excused himself. Parker watched and waited for the door to close, then glanced back.
“Now tell me what this is about,” said the president.
Parker glanced away for a moment, deciding on the right way to begin the conversation he’d tried to have with the president a week earlier. He realized there was no good way other than just stating the obvious. “Mr. President, I just came back from Peter Mulvaney’s office,” he said, referring to the FBI director. “He’s giving me hell because of the shutdown. Says you need to put an end to it. Says it’s a matter of national security.” Parker shook his head slowly. “I don’t agree with him completely, but he says you’re putting investigative operations at risk. His DC and New York City field offices are taking the biggest hit. Mulvaney can’t pay his people. They’re leaving left and right. I know some of them. They’re good people.”
“If Peter Mulvaney wants to talk to me, he can call me anytime,” said Keller.
“We’ve been through this, Tom,” added Meyer.
Parker shifted his eyes and glared at Keller’s chief of staff.
“We’re not going to back down on this. Until they send us a bill with the funds we’ve asked for to keep this nation safe and secure, the president’s not signing it. Period, end of story. Whose side are you on here?”
Parker took in a deep breath and let it out slowly and lowered his gaze to the floor. “My team and I are working around the clock,” he said. “Mr. President, if he’s right, if terrorists attack us during this shutdown because of a weakened FBI, the buck will stop with you. Americans will never forgive you. And you can forget about any chances for a second term.”
Keller said nothing.
“Mulvaney’s been silent until now. But he shared something with me you need to know about. He’s issuing a report tomorrow. Seventy-two pages long, a list of unclassified ways that the shutdown has made it difficult—or impossible—for the FBI to do its job. It’ll be in all the newspapers, and you’re going to have hell to pay in the morning for it.”
Keller shook his head. “It’s impacting everyone, Tom.”
“But it’s crippling the Bureau,” Parker said bluntly. He grabbed the manila folder he’d brought with him. Reached across and handed it to the president, who took it from him. Parker watched as Keller reached into a pocket for his reading glasses. He put them on. Opened the folder and began thumbing through it. “If you want to shut down the TSA, then go for it,” Parker continued. “But my team cannot cover for the FBI. We don’t have enough manpower. We can’t look into every potential threat. It’s a very small team.”
Keller closed the report and tossed the manila folder onto a coffee table in between the two couches. “We’re done here,” he said and stood. The president folded his glasses and tucked them away. “And there was no reason my agent needed to step out. What you said will be common knowledge tomorrow.”
“Mr. President, please give me one more minute of your time,” said Parker. “And I’ll give you the reason.”
Keller glanced at Meyer, then across at him. The president sighed and sat back down on the couch.
“There’s a threat we’re tracking,” said Parker in a low voice as Keller furrowed his brow. “The Secret Service won’t tell you about it. But it happened again. Another drone crashed on the White House lawn last night. Mulvaney just shared the details with me, hoping that DHS can look into the matter.”
“Is that why you asked the agent to leave the room?” asked Meyer. “To tell us about another toy drone?”
Parker made no reply.
“It’s nothing to be concerned about, Tom. Some kid somewhere decided to fly it close to the White House and lost control of it. I’m sure it happens a lot more than the Secret Service is willing to say.” Meyer paused for a brief moment. “If the president is in any danger, they have a responsibility to—”
“They don’t share threats against protectees, including the president,” said Parker. “You should know that. The Secret Service turned the first drone crash over to the Bureau. Mulvaney’s team tried to track down the owner without success. Mulvaney’s claiming lack of resources. He wants our help, so I need your help.”
“It was a hobbyist,” said Keller. “They thought it’d be fun to fly the damn thing over the White House.”
Parker shook his head. “I need you to tell your agents to work with me because this time it’s different.”
“Different how?” asked Keller.
Parker stared at the two men. “Mulvaney said the drone that crashed last night was exactly like the one from last week. Same make and model. Identical in every way, most likely piloted by the same people. Mulvaney’s got a skeleton crew working, but when the few guys he does have working came to get it, they found something attached to it. A payload.” Silence filled the room. “It was rigged with explosives.”
FIVE
I TOOK THE medal off. Stared at it as Chef Gregory came around and collected the dishes and left. Then I took the ribbon and wrapped it around the medal and stuffed it into my pocket. I glanced across the table. Kate was rubbing Matthew’s back as he stared down at the shield the president had given him. She glanced at Jami and me and grimaced faintly. She was trying to hide it from us, but I knew she was in pain.
“I need to rest,” she said and turned to Matthew. “What do you think, sweetie? Ready for bed?”
Matthew shook his head. “I want to go exploring.” He looked over to me. “Can we, Uncle Blake? Please?”
Kate glanced at me and cocked her head to one side. Shot me a you’d better back me up on this kind of look.
I shrugged. “It’s the boy’s first night staying in the White House.” I turned to face Jami. “It’s everyone’s first night at the White House. We’ve only stayed across the street at Blair House in the past.” Kate raised her eyebrows as I glanced back at her and shrugged again. “I’ll take him on a special tour. Then I’ll bring him right up.”
Matthew’s eyes lit up and he looked at his mom, begging her to say yes.
Jami pushed her chair out and stood. “That should be okay, right?” she said to her sister. “Not every day you get to spend the night here. And I can take you to your room and help you get settled in for the night.”
Kate sighed. “You stay with Uncle Blake the whole time. No sneaking off to those secret tunnels, okay?”
Matthew glanced at me and smiled broadly. Jami helped Kate stand up as Chef Gregory entered the room. He held the door open for them, and they thanked him for the meal as they left. Chef asked one of the Secret Service agents posted outside the door if they would escort the ladies to their room, and he said yes.
Chef remained at the door for a few seconds, watching them leave as I thought about Kate’s recovery from the terrorist attack in Chicago. The same attack that took the life of Matthew’s father. Kate was getting better, but Matthew wasn’t. He’d been struggling with a lot of fear after the event, especially at nighttime.
Matthew stood and joined Gregory at the door. He called for me to get up and go with him. Chef shot me a puzzled look. “He wants another tour of the White House,” I said as I stepped closer to the two of them.
“Another tour? You just had one before dinner,” said Chef as we stepped out into the hallway.
“Matthew wants to go on the real tour,” I said. “He wants to see some of the things he read about online.”
“Oh? Things like what?”
I shrugged. “Secret tunnels. Bunkers. A command center. Hidden passageways. Things like that.”
Chef laughed to himself. “Little man, you think your uncle has access to take you to all of those places?”
