by J G Clements
It was dark when I reached the parking lot. A police car had pulled up next to my car, I suppose checking to see if it was stolen. Trailheads are apparently good places to dump cars, though I don’t understand why. The officer was polite, asked if I was OK and how was my hike. I exchanged pleasantries…enough to convince him that I hadn’t buried a body somewhere on the trail. I asked for a recommendation for a diner...always make him feel superior… I think it’s a testosterone thing with cops but I was too tired to examine that idea further. Forty minutes later I was sitting in a diner having the house special and washing it down with coffee. I didn’t feel like tea tonight.
******
The next several days were quiet for me. I hung around at home, and worked out a bit. Several times, I thought about speaking to her, but didn’t want to be the one that initiated the conversation. Hard to get, or the tall, silent type. I wasn’t sure which I was trying to be, so I limited my mental visits to my bedtime. Then just as suddenly as a thunderclap, she was in my mind speaking to me: A sense of urgency I’d never felt from her. “Recruiter…we need to speak. Are you alone?”
“I’m at home and yes, alone.” Twelve years ago I would have wasted time by asking her why, but by now I knew I didn’t need to.
“There is a government car coming to your house. They know where you are, and that you can communicate for me. But they don’t know we can speak to each other in our minds. I’m sorry...I’d thought we’d have more time to prepare you. Now, memorize this number. When you are interrogated, tell them you have a phone number to give them but you won’t divulge it to anyone but the Senate Majority Leader, the Speaker of the House, and the President, all at one time. Other than that, you can tell them anything you want. Mindspeak to me, and I’m sure I can guide you through this, OK?” Her tone was…not relaxed. I heard stress in her voice and I found it...disappointing. She appeared mortal.
I had a few minutes to examine those feelings while I got dressed. I had just about finished making myself presentable in a black slacks with a dark charcoal blazer before a knock came at the door. The man was small, and nondescript . And upon closer examination, heavily muscled. As he started to say something, I held up my hand, palm toward him and silenced him, just for a moment. “I’ve been told to go with you and cooperate. So let’s go.” He made a small smile when I added, “Take me to your leader.”
The government car was a big black SUV...the kind the government doesn’t want us to drive, just them. I was disappointed that the interior wasn’t leather…it was just cloth. I slid into the middle of the back seat so they could put a goon on each side of me, and we were off. I noticed there were two more identical SUV’s in front of us, and as we drove to the end of my block, a fourth pulled behind us. If I hadn’t come quietly, I bet I still would have come. Maybe in the trunk. Four SUVs probably meant at least a dozen agents, perhaps more. I thought about that, but didn’t say anything more on the hour ride. And no one tried to speak to me.
We arrived at an airport. Not the one they use for real airplanes, but the little municipal one that I didn’t think anyone other than student pilots used. I don’t know much about aircraft, especially the small ones. All my commercial flights had been on seven-something-sevens. But the plane waiting for me was very nice. Some sort of private jet, no markings. The stairs were the type that folds down from the door when it’s opened. As I said, very cool.
Until now, I had been treated nicely. But now, one of the SUV guys came over and told me to put my hands on the hood. I knew he was about to search me, but I needed to take some control here. It was important that I maintain some sort of status above ‘suspicious person’ or, let’s be blunt, ‘intergalactic criminal and tax cheat’. Even as I took a stand, I was wondering if being tasered would hurt. “If you plan to search me, I think you should ask me for my permission. What do you think?”
His temper flared…I could see it. Another agent stepped over to me…the one that had originally come to the door…and interceded. “Yes, sir. We’d like to search you before we board the plane. We’d like not to have any incidents at 30,000 feet. Would you mind?”, as he indicated the hood. Two minutes later, I was aboard the plane. And it had leather seats.
Nothing was said to me for the first thirty minutes, so I contemplated on how come these seats were more comfortable than the ones in my house. Huh. Before I got too far along these thought patterns, a flight attendant...also heavily muscled, but in all the right places...asked me if I’d like a coffee or tea. I really wanted a tea. I asked for coffee. I only drink tea with friends.
Another ten minutes and 20,000 feet later I was relaxed. Flying always does that to me. Or, just as probably, it’s the low cabin pressure affecting my brain oxygen. I’m not sure which. Of the several ‘suits’ on the plane, they had all pretty much ignored me once my seatbelt had been fastened. Now, one of them came over and sat in the seat that faced mine. It was the same guy who had knocked on my door. I decided to think of him as ‘Head Suit’. He glanced at the stewardess, and a coffee was handed to him. He glanced at me over the rim of the cup. He was the type of fellow who could drink a cup of coffee without blinking. Serious.
“We’re taking you to a military base where we can debrief you, OK?” It really wasn’t a question and I think he didn’t like briefing me. I looked at him, not to challenge him...more to let him understand that I understood. My gaze slid sidewise…out the window, then back to him.”
“I’ve been authorized to give a phone number, but only to the President, and only then in the presence of the Speaker of the House and the Senate Majority Leader.” That seemed to set him back. I had expected some sort of threat, where I had to give the number to him…’or else’.., or maybe he’d try to roust me that only the President should get the number. Instead, his reaction was quite different. It also verified my faith that there are still some really smart guys working for the government. And maybe ones that had read the Constitution.
“He’ll blow a gasket that he has to share with the Speaker and Majority Leader, but actually, that’s brilliant.” He seemed to be thinking about something, then continued. “Ever hear the theory that you can’t keep a secret with more than two people? No? It’s very simple. Two people can keep a secret, and if it gets out, they both know who leaked it. But tell a secret to three people, and when it gets out, you’re never sure who leaked it. Neat, huh?” It was his turn to look out the window. “That piece of knowledge was a big help when I was working in Russia. Back in the good old days.”
He leaned back in his seat, relaxing, and looked at me again. Sort of reassessing me, reclassifying me to a different status. No longer just a piece of meat, I was now a smart piece of meat. I don’t know if he really wanted to open up, or if this was just some part of his interrogation technique. Either way, I decided I liked him. And there really weren’t too many secrets they could pry out of me cause I didn’t really know anything. I leaned back in my seat and thought, ‘I match your relaxing, and raise you one.’
He made some decision about me. He leaned forward to speak to me, not exactly a whisper but no one else on the plane was going to overhear him. “I heard the transmission from the McKinsie fleet. I guess things are going to change, so here is what is going to happen, OK? The secret service is going to try to convince you that they won’t accept your deal. That it’s him, or prison. But if I understand what’s happening up there, he’ll have to take your deal. But not for the reason you think. This is what you should know, OK? It wouldn’t matter to him if you did rot in jail for a year or two. Just as long as he broke you before his re-election. But if the word was that your…colleagues…were speaking to the Prime Ministers of some other countries? This makes it imperative that he gets briefed right away. No President wants to play catch-up with other world leaders. With me so far?”
I nodded. “Good. Here is my advice. Make it clear right away that there is simply no deal until the three guys are in one room. I’m gonna place a call in a few minut
es and see if I can get them to play ball right away.” He leaned back, opening the distance between us and instead of a private whisper, spoke in a more moderate voice, one the other Suits could overhear. “You do say there is a time issue here, right?”
I must have looked blank for a second. Sometime’s I’m really slow. Or it’s the reduced cabin pressure. Whatever. Then I got it. “Yes. My colleagues are set to brief the British Prime Minister within 24 hours. “
“Just as I suspected”. He shot me a wry glance, and made a gesture identical to the one for coffee. Only this time they gave him a phone. I’d really like to know how he did that. Could he summon a beer that way? I could really use one right now. My glance back to the stewardess was misconstrued. She put a fresh coffee on my armrest. I was disappointed until I sipped it. Jameson’s. Dang, she’s good.
“This is…”, he stated who he was, some clearance mumbo jumbo and I think, a password, “Please put me thru to the White House.” He put the phone down on his armrest, after pressing a button that turned it into a speaker phone. With that, he just glanced at the stewardess who gave him another coffee then made herself scarce. He sipped it, still doing his gunslinger stare over the rim. But his eyes twinkled…he was enjoying this immensely. The speaker phone did not have background music. I was disappointed in the White Hsdouse when I realized that. But I had been disappointed in the White House before.
It wasn’t all that long till a voice came on. He picked the phone up and the speaker function was silenced. This meant I only got half the conversation, but that was fine. All the arguments were being trotted out, and he was deflecting them with the long practice of a career diplomat. “Why don’t you just get both of them ready in case the President decides that it is the best course of action? He can always promise to brief them later, right?” Another pause…he looked at me then rolled his eyes. “Look, you know as much about this as I do. This guy is supposed to have the straight information on what happened to the McKinsie Fleet guys. I think they’ll get over being summoned. Look…it’s the White House for cryinoutloud. Show them the Presidential wine cellar or something. Tell them you’ll take them to the room where we keep the stuff from Area 51. Anything. This fellow is serious. He’s said that he’ll only brief all three at one time.” Another pause. “Yeah, well, if you screw this up, it’ll fry your career, right?” With that, he hung up.
I looked at him, tilted my head and raised one eyebrow…something I learned to do in high school watching sci-fi shows. If he noticed, he didn’t let on. “They’ll get the Speaker and Leader rounded up. They really can’t refuse to come to the White House on a matter of National Security. They’ll just whine about it. But I expect you to get the full treatment as they try to persuade you to spill the beans just to him”. He seemed about to clam up, then realized there was something he hadn’t told me. “You’re not on your way to a military base anymore. You’re on your way to the White House.”
Satisfied, he leaned back and I watched the stress flow out of him. He knew he had done his job as well as anyone could have done it. The stage was set, and it was him…not the politicians….who had arranged for all the players to be in the right place.
His gaze returned momentarily from outside the cabin window and the far, far away look was replaced with a piercing one. “This is really big, isn’t it?” One question, probably not sanctioned by his superiors. It was his prize for getting everything moving, a treat to keep him going.
“Earth is no longer alone. And there are forces that desperately want to help the Earth. And there are forces that would reduce us to a cinder. Yeah, it’s big.”
He didn’t say a thing. A sort a snort of air out his nose. His gaze left the plane again and stayed somewhere far away for the rest of the trip. I saw a man planning to use all his accrued vacation time.
Landing was quick. No wasted time taxiing around. Just walk from the jet to a Helicopter. Airborne again within 2 minutes. Only no one from the plane went with me on the copter. Instead, I had a whole new set of over-achievers to deal with. Nice enough, but very business like. The copter was big enough for me to stand up in...so a second frisking was undertaken. Then, a jacket was issued matching the ones the civilians on-board wore. I guess someone believed in that ‘forest for the trees’ theory of getting me into the White House undetected. Who ever these guys were, I was just one of them.
We did deplane on the White House lawn, so the agent wasn’t lying about not going to a military base. It actually looks better from outside the fence than inside, but I bet that applies to a lot of government institutions. I walked along with my new best friends and entered the White House by a ground-level door. As soon as the door closed, the charade was over. I didn’t wait to be asked...I handed my jacket to the nearest agent and waited for them to tell me what to do.
I expected they’d do one of two things. Either the room would be metal and unpleasant, or it would be wood panelling and nicely furnished. And oddly...it didn’t matter to me. But I was wrong on both counts. The room was more like a doctors office. And yes, I had a cat scan or something before I was allowed to dress. I guess they didn’t want someone with a bomb inside them to do something stupid. A quick exam...blood pressure, heart-rate, that sort of thing. They even took my fingerprints. No attention was paid to my tattoo. They also didn’t offer any medicines to me...nor would I have taken them. If they want to drug me, they’d have to feed it to me in something really tasty. I don’t know if there is such as thing as ‘truth serum’, but I would imagine if could only work if I knew something about the truth. Finishing, they returned my gold necklace to me and the exam was over.
If there was anything odd, it was that no one tried to be my new best friend. I expected some sort of professional handler to befriend me. Hell, I’d try to bribe someone if it got them to see things my way. If they really wanted me to only brief the President, I’d suggest money, girls, and real-estate and not in that order. My own jet fighter, even an old one as long as it was a two-seater. I daydreamed for a second…yes, I’d like a devastatingly attractive female fighter pilot, a fighter jet…leather seats. We’d fly off to our own private island. And with my luck, she’d probably decide I was a jerk and eject me over some remote part of the ocean. One where the Coast Guard doesn’t bother to patrol. Yeah. My daydream ended the way most of them do. In some future life I was destined to have a more distant relationship with reality.
An agent or aide…I couldn’t tell which unless I could see the holster…introduced himself, shook my hand, and welcomed me to the White House. I’m sure I mumbled something appropriate, as visions of jet fighters and female pilots evaporated. “I’m agent Cole, and I’ll be conducting you upstairs. You’ll meet the President in the Cabinet room.” Not waiting for a reply, he continued, “Follow me.” As he walked away, toward an elevator, we had agents in tow. Very efficient.
A short ride left the 2 agents in the basement but I got two brand new ones when the door opened. A longer walk than I thought, then a left turn into the Cabinet room. Before the aide could say anything more, I asked him what the protocol would be for me to meet him. “There are 2 ways to do it. If we take you to the President, shake hands only if he offers, and remain standing unless he offers you a chair, got it?” I nodded. “Normally, let him speak first. He’ll ask you a question or two to start the conversation. And that’s all. Remember...you respect the office of the President, whether you voted for him or not. Ok so far?”
“No problem.”
“Now, if he comes to you and you’re seated, stand up when he enters and it’s pretty much the same routine. Now, Can I get you a cup of coffee? When was the last time you ate?” I declined. He hovered around me, just out of arm’s reach, so maybe he was a trained agent. Who knows…who cares? I really wanted to get this over with.
It was over 2 hours later and I was beginning to regret not asking for a bite when a young man entered, whispered in the aide’s ear and left. “Its time to meet the President. Let’s go
.”
We walked over to a door...not the one I came in thru...and we were in the oval office. The presence radiated by the office was stunning. And the man standing behind the desk seemed to understand how to use it. The aide started to introduce me, but with a wave of his hand, the President silenced him, stepped around the desk, and shook my hand. And I had to admit, no matter what was to happen in the next few minutes, I was honored.
We did a little chit chat. He said he was genuinely surprised that no Federal Agency could find any trace of who I was. He let it sink in, then realizing I wasn’t rising to the bait added, “Maybe when this business is finished I could get you to join the CIA? They find guys like you…useful.” A twinkle in his eye, and I decided I liked him.
“Now, I understand that you can put me in touch with some folks who are...ehh…not from around here. Who might know more about that tape the McKinsie Fleet released three days ago?
“Yes, sir. But my orders are very clear. I can only brief you with the Speaker of the House and the Senate Majority Leader present. That’s very firm sir. Don’t think I have the ability OR authority to modify that. Sorry sir.” He looked at me...saw me better than the cat scan I had taken a few hours ago. And made his decision.
“Alright. Have a seat”. Looking at his aide, he didn’t even need to say anything.
“Sir, they are already in the White House. I’ll get them.” He was gone, and I was alone with the President, and of course, two Secret Service agents. I thought about speaking to the President, but I think that was part of the game he was playing. And I wasn’t going to play. Having learned not to babble in front of her had taught me a lot. It was just as well.
