B018R79OOK EBOK
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“Really good. I hear you have a new one.”
“Growing like a weed. I guess our kids are around just in time to watch us grow old,” Hammond said.
The two men laughed. Finally the guard lowered the gate to let them through. “You two have a great time tonight. On the way out, let me have another look at this thing. She’s a looker,” he said as he waved them through.
As the car entered the grounds, Hammond showed Jeffers where to go. “Jack was here when I was on the staff. He’s a nice guy,” Hammond said.
The car pulled into the front portico where the two men got out and a staff member got into the car and drove it away. The two men walked to the front door of the White House where a man in formal attire ushered them to the family dining room.
President Steve O’Bannon and his wife, Janie, walked up and embraced his friend warmly. “Roger, I am so glad to see you again. How’s Patricia?” he asked.
“She’s fine Steve. I’m hoping she and Little Steve can come up here in a couple of weeks. She’d love to see you two,” Hammond said warmly.
“Well, when she does, the three of you should stay here,” said Janie O’Bannon. “Sitting alone in a hotel room is no way to treat your wife. Besides, I’d like the company,” she said with a smile.
“Better child proof the house,” Hammond warned.
“Oh, I think we can manage. Now who is this?” the President asked as he turned toward a stunned Jeffers.
“This is my Flag Lieutenant, Rod Jeffers,” Hammond said. “He’s the guy tasked with keeping me in line,” he joked.
Everyone laughed and the President extended his hand. “I think you have your hands full,” he said with a wink.
Jeffers broke into a wide smile. “I never argue with the President,” he said taking his hand.
Everyone laughed again as the Chief of Staff, Jim Butler, shook the hands of his old friend. He was joined by his wife, Jessica Butler, who gave Hammond a kiss on the cheek. “I know I had my hands full, and I was his CO,” Butler added as he shook Jeffers’ hand.
Jeffers had never experienced what he was going through. The power of the people in the room could almost be physically felt, yet, they talked and joked like just regular people. The President included Jeffers in all the conversation and he found that he was getting to like the man more than he had the President. On several occasions, the two shared experiences and he found that he and the President had a lot of things in common. By the end of the meal, Jeffers felt more relaxed than he had in a lone time.
After a little more polite conversation, the women went off for a moment and the President turned to Jeffers with a grin. “You ever been in the White House before?” he asked.
Jeffers smiled. “No, sir, it’s actually my first time in Washington,” he said.
“Well then, why don’t I take you around a minute while Roger and Jim talk a while,” he said standing. “You two visit while I take our new friend around some. We’ll be back in a few minutes,” he said as he motioned to the Secret Service agent standing at the door. The agent opened the door and the two walked out of the dining room and into a hallway.
Jeffers felt a little uneasy being treated this way by the President, but felt he could not say no. “Sir, you don’t really have to do this,” he said.
O’Bannon slapped him on the shoulder. “Rod, it’s not often that I can just be a friend to someone. You’re a nice guy, and during dinner you didn’t get hung up on me being the President. You acted like a regular guy. So, like it or not, you are now a part of my inner group of friends. I can see why Roger chose you as an assistant. You’re smart, have a great sense of humor and from what I can see, are loyal to your friends. He needs that kind of guy around him to bounce things off of. Like me, he doesn’t need some political flunky who just says yes all the time. So, I encourage you to be that kind of guy for him. As I’m sure you have seen, things are getting a little dicey around here right now. If I’m not mistaken, it’s going to get serious really quickly. So, the two of you need to be ready. There’s one thing you can do for me, though,” he said as he stopped and looked at Jeffers. “If Roger is having trouble, something really wearing him down, give me a call,” he said. “Roger is one of the most capable people I have ever known, and I think the world of him, but, now he’s in the hornet’s nest. I can’t let him get burned out or cut down by some of the shenanigans that go on around here.”
O’Bannon reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. It only had a telephone number on it. “I can be reached at any time at this number,” he said. Then he smiled again. “And every so often, call and just let me know you two are just fine. I would really appreciate it,” the President said.
Jeffers took the card. “Mister President, I like my boss, and I’ve come to like you. I’d take care of him anyway, but knowing I can call for help makes me feel better. Should I tell him of our conversation?”
The President shook his head, “Hell no. If he thought I was spying on him he might call out a strike on me instead of some enemy!” he proclaimed. After a chuckle he placed his hand on Jeffers’ shoulder again. “Let’s just keep it to ourselves. He’s always been there when I needed help, and if I can, I want to return the favor,” he said.
“I’m happy to help, Mister President,” Jeffers said.
“When we’re alone, call me Steve,” the President said as he opened a door and let Jeffers into the room. The Oval Office seemed to shine around the two men. “Behold my prison,” the President said.
The two men walked around talking about personal experiences and a little of the history of the house. When they rejoined the others, Jeffers found he had made a new friend. Just before they left, he pulled out his phone and had Hammond take a picture of himself and the President. He turned to the others and said, “Have to prove it to my Mom and Dad.”
The car was pulled up and everyone said their good-byes. Even the President was impressed as the dark blue Rolls silently pulled away.
Krakow
The old man had been found four days later when the apartment superintendent had gone in to check on what some neighbors had called a terrible stench. The media had arrived along with the ambulance and immediately began asking questions about who he was and why he might want to commit suicide. They quickly found out about his termination from the MPK. The company refused to discuss the matter, but a few of the drivers who knew him, and asked for anonymity, told them about how the company had discriminated against the old man because he was an ethnic Russian. Nothing was said about the man failing the driving test. Instead, the local television and newspaper articles deplored the practices of discrimination, especially against people who had come to Poland during the Soviet era. By nightfall, there were growing crowds of people standing below the old man’s apartment holding candles and laying flowers in a makeshift funeral service. The American networks took interest, with CNN proclaiming its own outrage that such things would happen these days. By morning, the flowers covered the street in front of the building. Over the next few days more people came to show their support and outrage that the MPK, a city organization, would do such a thing. Ivan Ileneovich had become a martyr for justice.
Chapter 3
Opportunities
Krakow
Anton Kursov was starting to get tired of dealing with Bugayev. It seemed that every day there was a new task to be performed. The matter with the old bus driver had been a warning flag. Although he denied it, there was no doubt that Bugayev had shot the old man and made it look like a suicide. Kursov loved Russia, but he was no murderer, no matter what the cause. Now Bugayev wanted information on what was going on in some of the rural outskirts where the Polish Army and Air Force had bases. Since Kursov never left his store during the day except in a dire emergency, this meant he would have to use his own son to get the information. Otherwise, people would become suspicious. That bothered him. Despite his stern upbringing, Petyr had become a good, honest young man – someone to be proud of
. And Kursov was extremely proud of his son. Brining him into all this placed his son into jeopardy. He would have to make sure everything was kept as “normal” as possible.
To make this work, he had enlisted several of the team members to receive deliveries so that Petyr would have to pass by specific areas or buildings on his way. It would mean longer delivery times, but his son never really complained.
Petyr came into the shop to pick up his packages for the day. He smiled at his father. “How many today, Father?” he asked.
“About twenty today. There’s a new one for a Mrs. Jankowski. She lives over in district six. The directions are on her bag,” Kursov said calmly.
A hurt look came over Petyr’s face. “But that’s about seven kilometers from here,” he complained. “I won’t get back for a while.”
“Our reputation is growing and it has to be done. Once you get your license next year, you will be able to use our car. Until then, you must pedal,” he said sternly. “Besides, your new girlfriend can wait.”
Petyr shrugged his shoulders and picked up the basket of bags. Going out the side door of the shop he saw Freda coming in from school. He waved at her. “Looks like I may be a little late this evening. One of my deliveries is seven kilometers away,” he said sadly.
“Seven kilometers!” Freda exclaimed. “That’s a long way to deliver medications,” she said.
He shrugged again. “I guess it has to be done. Do you have to cook tonight?”
Freda nodded. “Papa said he wants me to have more time for myself, but our timing is a little off. Are we still going to the park this weekend?” she asked.
Petyr’s face broadened. “As far as I can tell. Father said he would make the deliveries on Saturday if we wanted to go, but that means I must still do it for the rest of the week. I just hope I’ll be able to sit with you for a while tonight,” he said smiling.
“I’ll wait for you after supper,” she said with a wink.
Smiling broadly, he waved good-bye and began making his way down the street. The first few deliveries were in the neighborhood. Mrs. Kletchner rewarded him with some home baked cookies while Mr. Jenski tried to get him into a conversation about the suicide in the news. Each of the customers knew him well and it made the job go quickly in most cases. The ride to deliver to Mrs. Jankowski seemed to take forever, although Petyr was surprised to see a lot more planes at the air base as he rode by. It appeared there were more of the new sleek fighter planes parked along the runway and several were circling overhead as they got ready to land.
Mrs. Jankowski seemed a little cold when he knocked on her door. She grabbed the paper package, grunted and handed over the payment without saying a word. As the door was closing, he saw her throw the bag onto a small table at the entrance and keep walking. With a sigh, Petyr climbed back onto his bike and began the long trip home. By the time he returned, it was getting dark. He entered the shop and gave his father the pouch he carried with all the payments he had collected. Kursov could tell his son was tired.
“How was the trip?” Kursov asked quietly.
Petyr shrugged. “That delivery to Mrs. Jankowski was a killer. The only thing that broke up the ride was getting to see all the planes at the air base.”
Kursov eyed his son. “Really? What was going on?”
“There are a lot more planes there than I remembered. As I passed by there must have been over a hundred parked along the runway. There were even some coming in for a landing. I love watching them fly,” he said with the enthusiasm of most young men when watching the jets dart across the sky.
That was just the kind of information Kursov needed. He acted as if it were nothing. “Well, at least you will get to see them every so often. Mrs. Jankowski is scheduled to get a package at least once each week. I guess her doctor is watching how she does,” he said as he worked on another order. “Now get some dinner. If you hurry, she may be waiting,” he said with a slight smile.
Petyr grinned back and made his way upstairs where his mother gave him a hug. “Hard day?” she asked sincerely.
“Pretty tough,” Petyr said. “Father sent me on one run way out past the air base.”
“That far? Then you must be hungry. Call your brother and sister to supper.”
Petyr called out to his siblings who came bolting out of their rooms. Camille was just seven and she sprung into Petyr’s arms for her usual hug before sitting down. Sasha, thirteen, went straight to his seat. Nothing ever got in the way of him and his food. After a quick prayer, everyone began eating.
Sasha looked up between bites. “You going out to see Freda again tonight?” he asked with a sly look.
Mrs. Kursov gave him a stern look. “Sasha, mind your manners. You wouldn’t want him asking you about what you do with someone,” she scolded.
“But Mom, he’s been going down there for the last week. I’d say he was keeping her busy,” Sasha said with glee.
“It’s okay, Mom. He’s just jealous,” said Petyr with a laugh.
“She’s pretty,” said Camille. “Why don’t you bring her up here?” she asked.
“I will, someday. As long as Sasha behaves,” Petyr grinned.
“Are you two still going into town tomorrow?” his Mom asked.
“We plan to. We might also go down to the pool and get a little swim. We could both stand to get out some,” he said.
“He just wants to see her without clothes on,” Sasha said under his breath. He was smacked on the head for his troubles.
“Sasha!” he mother exclaimed as she whacked him. “You are getting disgusting. One more remark like that and you will go straight to bed!” she admonished. She turned back to Petyr. “You should go and have a good time. Never mind this one,” she said giving Sasha another glare.
Petyr shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll remember what he said when he starts dating.”
“Could I go with you?” Camille asked quietly.
Petyr smiled. “Not yet. I need to get to know Miss Freda a little more first. But we’ll take you with us sometimes. I think Freda would like to meet you,” he said to his sister.
Camille broke into a big smile. “That would be fun!” she exclaimed.
The rest of the meal was spent talking about school and other things, then while his mother went to take over from his father in the shop, Petyr did the dishes. Mr. Kursov sat down and talked to his children while he ate. By the time Petyr had finished, the rest of the dishes, his father handed over his plate.
“Your honey is down at the bench,” called out Sasha from the front window.
“Sasha!” shouted Kursov. But the look in his eye betrayed the fun of what was happening.
Petyr excused himself and made his way downstairs. True enough, Freda was sitting on the bench waiting for him. In the week they had been talking Petyr had grown quite fond of Freda. The prospects of taking her out for a day together thrilled him more than anything else. He sat down next to her on the bench.
“So I’m your honey, huh?” she quipped. Then she let out a laugh he had come to really enjoy. It meant she was okay with the idea. She turned and looked up at the window. “Hi, Sasha,” she called out.
They heard the window close with a bang. Now both were laughing.
“Sorry about that,” Petyr said as he took her hand.
“Sasha is like my brother. At that age, they think more with their hormones than with their brains. Maybe later we will take the two of them along,” Freda said.
“You’ll have to fight Camille first,” said Petyr. “She already looks at you like a big sister.”
Freda smiled and nodded. “I never had a little sister. That would be nice.”
As usual, they talked for a while until the store lights went out and the door locked. In a few minutes she slid closer and he put his arm around her. For a while, they simply sat and enjoyed the security they felt together, until she turned to him. “You think you could stand some company on your deliveries next week?” she asked.
&
nbsp; Petyr looked at her with surprise. “Of course I could, but I thought you couldn’t.”
Papa said to take some time and go with you. I used to love riding. This might help me get back into some shape,” she said snuggling closer.
Petyr held her tight. Of all people, Freda didn’t need to get in shape; she was already perfect as far as he was concerned. But the thought of having her with him made him feel good all over. “You sure you can keep up?”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “You’ll just have to find out,” she said.
Petyr looked at her and smiled. “You make me very happy,” he said. There was some emotion in his voice.
Freda almost gasped. She looked him in the eyes. “I am happy too, especially when I am with you.”
A new look came over his face. He eased closer. When he felt he was safe, he closed the gap between them and he felt her lips against his own. The kiss lasted for several minutes. When they came apart, both took a deep breath of air, then let out a quiet laugh. She rested her head on his shoulder. “That was wonderful,” she said.
“Then we need to do it some more,” he said. They were in the middle of another wonderful kiss when they heard a voice above them.
“Ewwww,” cried Sasha.
This time both of them let out a laugh.
David Taylor Research and Development Center
After a brunch together where everyone shared what was going on in their lives, Hammond and Jeffers led a minivan with Tim Maxwell and Dr. Harry Reid to the David Taylor Research and Development Center, located on the banks of the Potomac River in Maryland. It was a huge facility with some of the tightest security Maxwell had ever seen. They were stopped no less than three times before they got out of the van to be met by Dr. Thomas and a man wearing a short sleeve white shirt and khaki slacks.
“Admiral, this is Dr. Gregory Mason, the man who runs our RF research and the anechoic chamber. When I called him yesterday he volunteered to come see what you’ve got,” said Thomas.