The President

by Parker Hudson

  “Hello, Ms. Kramer,” Rebecca said with a smile.

  Sally, who had been fumbling with the unfamiliar keys, hadn’t noticed her approach and was clearly surprised. So much so that she dropped the set of keys. “Oh, hello. Shoot. Uh, hi, Ms. Harrison. What are...why are you here?”

  “I’ve been trying to find you or Eunice all day. Are these her children? They’re precious!”

  “Mommy’s gone to Newark!” the older child blurted out before Sally could silence him.

  “Newark?” Rebecca said, bending down and smiling, but glancing up at Sally as well. “What’s in Newark?”

  “The State of Liberty!” he said, and stood still with his hand raised like the famous statue in New York harbor.

  “Oh, New York. Your mother’s gone to New York?”

  They both smiled and nodded.

  Rebecca stood up and looked at Sally, who was quickly trying to put the right key in the lock to get away from their inquisitor. “How could she fly to New York? She’s nine months pregnant.”

  “Mommy took the train. We waved bye-bye!”

  Rebecca bent down again and smiled. “Really? Great! Where is your Mommy going in New York?”

  “To the hosbitil.”

  “The hospital?” Rebecca repeated, suddenly concerned. “Why?”

  As Sally finally opened the door, the little boy said, “I don’t know.”

  Rebecca stood in the way as Sally opened the door and tried to maneuver the children inside. “Sally, why is Eunice going to a hospital in New York? And—where’s your baby?”

  “Do you have a baby?” Eunice’s boy asked.

  “No, I don’t have no baby!”

  Sally pushed the boy inside and reached for his little sister.

  “Sally, what happened to your baby?”

  “Nothing. Now go on, Ms. Harrison. I’ve got these kids to tend to, and it’s getting late.”

  “Sally, what happened? Did you have an abortion?”

  The way Sally stared at her, Rebecca knew the answer.

  “And Eunice. She’s gone to New York to get an abortion?”

  Sally’s eyes spoke all Rebecca needed to know.

  “For Doctor Thompson?”

  As if in a daze, Sally nodded her head almost imperceptibly.

  “Where?”

  This time there was no response at all. Sally started to close the screen door, but Rebecca held it with her hand.

  “Where?”

  Rebecca could just barely hear the whispered answer, “The Burroughs Clinic. Now please, go.”

  Sally pulled the children inside and closed the door. Rebecca turned and bounded down the steps. On the way to her apartment she called and made airline reservations.

  NEW YORK—Sunday morning Wafik awoke at seven and immediately scanned the harbor and its approaches as he had done almost continuously during the previous day and every two hours at night. Everything appeared to be normal at this slowest point in the weekly cycle of commerce. He pushed a button on his laptop and faxed a coded message of “all clear” to the ship by transceiver.

  Then he focused in on the Bright Star and could clearly make out the crew erecting, aft of the bridge, the prefit parts of the tower superstructure onto which the bomb would be lifted. Kolikov had told the Council that the device would have its greatest destructive impact if it was placed outside the freighter’s hull and as high above the water line as comfortably possible.

  From the ship’s anchored position Wafik was able to estimate, using his map of the city and the briefing Kolikov had given them two years earlier, that the bomb would virtually vaporize everything surrounding the harbor, knock great chunks out of buildings as far north as Twenty-fourth Street, and cause death and massive destruction from intense heat and hurricane force winds to anything unprotected just south of Central Park. A similar fate awaited Brooklyn, Queens, and near-in New Jersey, parts of which were actually closer to the anchorage than Manhattan. The lingering effects of the radiation from the cloud and the harbor water would doom many more, depending on which way the wind and the currents happened to be moving when Sadim detonated the bomb. Wafik smiled.

  Rebecca had stopped by the hospital for a few things that Sunday morning and then caught a flight from Atlanta that arrived at LaGuardia Airport right on schedule. As she stood by the baggage carousel she was surprised to see her older sister Mary and her two nieces, Sarah and Katherine, waiting by the next carousel, along with two men whom she knew must be Secret Service agents.

  They were as surprised as Rebecca, and after their initial greetings, Mary asked Rebecca why she was in New York. “It’s a long story, which I’ll tell you on the way into the city. You want to share a taxi?”

  “The Secret Service makes us take a limousine with Katherine here,” Mary said, smiling. Rebecca curtsied to Katherine as if she were royalty.

  “Come with us, Aunt Rebecca.” Katherine laughed. “I try to dump them, but they won’t leave. I promise this is all we have to put up with.”

  “Hey, I never turn down a limo ride!” Rebecca said.

  “Do you have a place to stay?” Mary asked.

  “Not yet. This all happened so fast. I figured I’d just wing it and find something when I got here.”

  “Well, come stay with us at the Trenton on the Battery. It’s also where we have to testify tomorrow. We reserved a suite, and there’s plenty of room for one more member of the family.”

  “Yes, please Aunt Rebecca,” Sarah added.

  “Thanks,” Rebecca said. “The Battery’s a bit of a trek from where I need to go, but I’d love to join you.”

  “And Dad’s going to be staying at the Park Empire off of Central Park tonight for the rally at noon tomorrow,” Katherine said. “But we’ll have to miss most of it because our testimony is scheduled for eleven.”

  Mary saw their bags and pointed them out to a Secret Service agent, who retrieved them. “You know, I talked to Hugh last weekend, and I think his ship is supposed to be in New York now on some kind of recruiting trip or something. I wonder where they’ll be?”

  “In the water,” Sarah laughed.

  Mary pretended to put her bag down on her daughter’s toe. “I’ll never know how I managed to get such a brilliant daughter.” Then she said, as they moved toward the exit, “Isn’t it funny that all four of us are together in New York at the same time?”

  On the drive to Manhattan, Rebecca explained her reason for coming to New York, and her family was shocked and concerned for Eunice and her baby. At Rebecca’s request the limousine and the car following it detoured to the address for the Burroughs Clinic, which Rebecca had discovered from a directory in her office. The mid-size building was located in the middle of a block on East 110th Street, just northeast of Central Park. Her directory had mentioned that the building had been a small hospital for the neighborhood in earlier times, converted fifteen years ago to doctors’ offices specializing in Ob/Gyn and family practice.

  Rebecca asked the driver to slow down as she looked for and found a small coffee shop across the street from the clinic. Though it was closed on Sunday, the sign said that Harry’s Diner opened at seven on Monday morning, and Rebecca planned to be sitting there with a good view of the front door of the clinic.

  In the early evening, covered by the large number of pleasure craft in the water that Sunday, two small boats from the New Dawn made their first run in from the large yacht, which was holding its position in international waters just outside the twelve-mile limit. As darkness fell they took approximately half the crew from the Bright Star out to the safety of the second vessel.

  Sadim watched the boats depart. Then he turned again toward the towering Manhattan skyline as thousands of lights came on, seeming so close that he could reach out and touch them. But the beauty only fanned the flame of hatred in Sadim’s heart. These blasphemous people have lived in abundance while my people have died daily in putrid camps! Allah demands justice! He shall have it on Tuesday! How different this
place will look in forty-eight hours! Revenge for injustice is coming, you lovers of Israel!

  William arrived in New York late that evening from a dinner and speech in Philadelphia, transported by helicopters that landed at the southern end of Central Park. The president and Jerry Richardson were surrounded by Secret Service agents and New York City police as they walked the short distance through the park to the Park Empire Hotel. The small group in the press pool traveling with them dispersed to other nearby hotels. Leslie Sloane took a taxi to Ryan Denning’s apartment.

  He opened the door and gave her a big smile. “Boy, am I glad to see you.”

  Leslie walked in with her overnight bag after giving him a quick hello peck on the cheek. “I’m glad to be here, but I’m really exhausted.”

  “I’ll bet. The president’s been on a whirlwind. Would you like a glass of wine?”

  “Sure. And let me change clothes.”

  An hour later, after a light dinner, the two sat together in his living room. Ever since their confrontation over Joe Wood’s speech six weeks earlier, their relationship had not been the same. They’d gone through the motions and even joked about the conversation. But it was obvious to both of them that Leslie in particular wasn’t happy. Ryan broached the subject that was on both their minds.

  “Have you talked to your mother this week about the wedding?”

  Leslie swirled her third glass of wine and thought for a moment. “Ryan, I think I want to postpone the wedding until after the first of the year. This campaign coverage has really drained me, and Christmas is coming up. I just can’t think about all I have to do right now. Would you mind?”

  Ryan had expected worse. “Well, no, I guess not. I just want us to be married and living together as soon as we can. But mainly I want you to be happy. So it’s fine. We just need to let everyone know. When were you thinking about?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe in late January.”

  “Fine. We can make some calls tomorrow. Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll be okay.” She smiled.

  They spoke together for another thirty minutes, the tension between them reduced. But the other shoe dropped for Ryan when Leslie, at her insistence, spent the night alone on the couch in his living room.

  William and Jerry were up in the living room of the president’s suite late that night reviewing the schedule for their final day of campaigning when the telephone rang. Jerry answered it. He listened and then hung up with a “Thanks, Brad.”

  Jerry turned to William and said with a grin, “That was Bradley Fullerton in Washington. They just got the results from the weekend’s instant poll, and for the first time we’re neck and neck—dead even! Isn’t that great?”

  William smiled, sat back, and rubbed his tired eyes. “All those people... all those people going one-on-one with their neighbors and co-workers. That’s what’s doing it, Jerry. Not us.”

  “I know, and God knows, but at least we’ve helped provide some direction and vision,” Jerry answered.

  “‘Where there is no vision, the people perish,’” William quoted.

  “What?”

  “Oh, I was just agreeing with you. It’s out of Proverbs.”

  “Sounds accurate to me. You were wonderful today at giving vision. And tomorrow across the street is the last act.”

  William smiled again. “Thank God. Then it’s up to the people to vote, just like Joshua asked his people...Jerry, do you think we’ll win?”

  The chief of staff thought for a moment. “It depends on the turnout. I’d like to think our people outnumber the rest, but if they don’t turn out and vote, we’ll lose.”

  “We can’t lose, Jerry. We can’t. The consequences for our nation and our children are just too awful.”

  “So we’ll give it one more push tomorrow, then turn it over to God.”

  “That’s right, Jerry. That’s right.”

  28

  The Church must take right ground in regard to politics.... The time has come that Christians must vote for honest men, and take consistent ground in politics or the Lord will curse them.... God cannot sustain this fire and blessed country, which we love and pray for, unless the Church will take right ground. Politics are a part of religion in such a country as this, and Christians must do their duty to the country as a part of their duty to God.

  CHARLES FINNEY

  NINETEENTH CENTURY MINISTER AND LAWYER

  Monday, November 4

  The Next Day

  NEWYORK HARBOR—The remaining crew of the Bright Star was up early that morning, long before sunrise. They opened the main cargo hold and, following Kolikov’s directions, used the ship’s cranes to slowly raise the nuclear device to its final resting place on a platform twenty feet above the deck.

  While the aft crane was used to unfold the helicopter landing platform on the stern, Kolikov and two assistants carefully checked again all the connections to the bomb, including the heavy power cord to the special generators that would create the necessary electrical surge. After everything checked out visually, Kolikov moved to the command center one level below the bridge and rechecked every system, including their special defensive sensors, by computer.

  When every system checked perfectly he confirmed that fact to the bridge, where Sadim was watching the two fast boats from the New Dawn approach from the south. Forty minutes later the boats departed with the remainder of the crew, leaving only Sadim, Kolikov, the captain, and the chief engineer on board. Sadim carried a device just a little larger than a shoe-box with which, once the generators were powered up, the bomb could be detonated instantly. He only had to push two buttons simultaneously. As the sun arched above the skyline, the Council’s complex plan was fully operational, and Sadim faxed their status to Wafik by coded message. Then he thanked Allah for allowing him to give his life, if necessary, for their righteous cause.

  MANHATTAN—Rebecca rose early that morning and, without waking Mary or her nieces, dressed and caught a taxi for the long ride uptown. Just as Harry’s Diner opened she walked in and took a table right by the front window. She ordered the first of what she imagined would be many cups of coffee and began her vigil across from the front door of the Burroughs Clinic.

  At eight the crew of the Fortson raised the colors and began counting down the final three hours of their now very familiar getting underway checklist.

  William rose that morning in the Park Empire Hotel and immediately knelt next to his bed.

  Mary and the two cousins rose at that hour and dressed in fashionable but conservative suits for their testimony later that morning before the AIDS Education Selection Panel, scheduled to meet in the Grand Ballroom of the Trenton Hotel. When all three women were ready, they took the elevator down to the main hotel restaurant for breakfast.

  As nine o’clock approached, Rebecca was worried that something had gone wrong, that she had the wrong place or that Eunice had used a back entrance. An hour earlier she had switched to decaf, and she actually found herself praying that God would help her.

  Just before nine her prayer was answered. She looked up from her mug to see a very pregnant Eunice Porter walking slowly down the sidewalk toward the front door of the clinic. Rebecca quickly handed the waitress, with whom she had become well acquainted, a ten-dollar bill and told her she hoped to be right back.

  Eunice was looking at the brownstone building in the bright morning sun and didn’t see Rebecca approaching from across the now busy street.

  Almost next to her as she reached the steps of the clinic, Rebecca said, “Eunice. How are you?”

  Eunice turned and shielded her eyes with her hands. Her face revealed the surprise at seeing Rebecca Harrison at the Burroughs Clinic on 110th Street in New York “What?...Why?...What are you doing here?”

  Rebecca smiled. “I came for you and for your baby.”

  Eunice frowned. “I...well, I’m here ‘cause I have to be...to take care of business that I can’t do in Atlanta any more.
So, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sorry you came all this way.”

  Rebecca moved slightly between Eunice and the steps. “Eunice, I know all about Dr. Thompson and the abortions and him paying you. Please, just come across the street to the diner and have a cup of coffee with me, and let’s talk for a minute about your options.”

  “But my appointment’s at nine and I’m not supposed to drink anything.”

  Taking her arm gently, Rebecca said, “Oh, you can be a few minutes late. Come on, we won’t be long. You can have some water. I’ve come a long way just to spend ten minutes with you. Please.”

  “All right, but just for a few minutes. I don’t have much time.” She patted her stomach, as Rebecca began walking with her to a crossing.

  William was giving his usual speech that morning at the breakfast fundraiser at the Park Empire Hotel. Leslie noted from the back of the room that this morning he seemed to be filled with unusual energy and made his points about the nation’s biblical foundations really well. Or maybe I’m just finally ready to hear him. That thought surprised her so much that she almost spilled the coffee she was sipping. She visibly shook her head and frowned. I’ve just been listening to him too long!

  As Hugh and Teri met in the passageway outside the wardroom, Hugh said, “The captain asked me to remind you not to turn on any of your radars until we’re well into the lower harbor. He doesn’t want any network television shows fried by our presence!”

  Teri smiled. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Eunice and Rebecca had been sitting for almost twenty minutes in Harry’s Diner. Rebecca told Eunice enough to convince her that she really did know all about the baby harvesting process led by Dr. Thompson, so Eunice went ahead and filled in the details from her own experience. As she did so she watched the genuine grief spread across the nurse’s face, further troubling her.