Mounting Fears

by Stuart Woods

  Black spoke up. “Henry King Jackson.” Jackson was the African-American mayor of Atlanta who had left the Democratic Party and had been elected as an independent. A large, handsome man with a voice to match, he had become the most prominent national spokesman for black Americans.

  “What about Henry?” Will asked.

  “I’m hearing rumors that he’s considering launching a third-party candidacy,” Black said.

  “How substantial are the rumors?” Will asked.

  “Not very, but they’re from fairly inside sources.”

  “I know him about as well as any white guy,” Sam said, “and I don’t think he’ll do it. He’ll use the threat to get something from Will, but in the end, he won’t run.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from the others.

  “We have to have a plan to deal with him, anyway,” Black said, “just in case he does.”

  Will turned to Kitty. “What can we offer him? Something in the new cabinet?”

  Kitty shrugged. “King Henry has a pretty high opinion of himself. It would have to be something bigger than HUD. You want to make him secretary of state?”

  Will smiled and shook his head.

  Sam spoke up. “Why don’t you make him an ambassador-at-large to Africa?”

  “Too grandiose a title and not substantive enough,” Will said. “The man is not stupid. How about assistant secretary of state for African affairs?”

  “That’s a career diplomat’s post,” Kitty said. “Still, if he had a top-notch State Department officer at his side and in his hair, it might work. And it would keep him out of the country a lot, and that’s a plus.”

  “Are you going to keep Tom Rodgers on at State?” Sam asked.

  “Yes,” Will said, “and he’s already said he’ll stay on.”

  “You’d better feel him out about it before you talk to Henry,” Kitty said. “I’m not sure how he’ll react.”

  Will smiled. “Neither am I.”

  “Henry’s going to be in D.C. for an NAACP conference pretty soon,” Sam said.

  “Maybe I’ll invite him to lunch,” Will replied.

  “No witnesses,” Kitty cautioned. “None of his people, anyway.”

  “You’re a cynic, Kitty. If Tom Rodgers buys into this, maybe I should have him there. It would lend weight to the offer.”

  Kitty nodded and made a note.

  “Moss,” Will said, “how are we looking in the polls this week?”

  “You’ve got a fifty-eight percent approval rating nationwide—up a point. Your ratings on foreign affairs and defense remain at that level, too. Forty-seven percent on immigration, which is more than I expected.”

  “How about against the Republican candidate?”

  “Tell me who he or she will be, and I’ll tell you,” Moss said, laughing. “There’s a close, three-way contest among the opposition party. But, you’re ahead of them all by at least ten points.”

  “So things aren’t bad, then?”

  “They’re better than not bad, they’re very good.”

  “Have you done any polling on a possible Henry Jackson run?”

  “I’ve thought it better to let sleeping dogs lie, but I haven’t seen anything from the papers or the networks that gives him more than eight percent. Of course, most of those would be black folks who would otherwise be voting for you.”

  “Would he take any votes at all from a Republican?”

  “Maybe a few black Republicans, but not anybody else. Jackson could only matter in a tight race.”

  “Still,” Will said, “I’d rather have him in Africa than on the campaign trail.”

  “Who wouldn’t?” Kitty asked.

  “Henry is a smart guy,” Will said. “Let’s not underestimate him.”

  “I hope he’s smart enough to take the African job,” Kitty said.

  11

  ROBERT KINNEY, DIRECTOR OF THE FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION, LOOKED across the desk at Assistant Director Kerry Smith, the youngest AD every to hold that office. Kerry looked back at him expectantly.

  “Kerry, you’ve been supervising the background check on Governor Martin Stanton, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, Director, but just oversight, not direct participation.”

  “There’s an interview with the governor scheduled this afternoon.”

  “That’s correct, Director.”

  “I want you to conduct it personally.”

  Smith’s eyebrows went up.

  “Don’t question, just do.”

  “I take it this interview is of a special nature to the White House?”

  “This appointment is of a special nature, Kerry. We’ve got a dead vice president, not even in the ground yet, and an appointment of a new one by the president on the fly in the middle of a nuclear event halfway around the world. There’ve been a lot of distractions for the president. He’s ordinarily a careful man by nature, but I don’t want him to miss something that’s going to rise up and bite him on the ass later, like in the confirmation hearings in the Senate.”

  “Then he’s going to appoint Stanton vice president to serve out Kiel’s term?”

  “You have to ask?”

  “No, sir. Is there anything in particular that should be brought into this interview, apart from the draft of the information you’ve already seen?”

  “Yes, two things: First, the governor has told the president that he and his wife are divorcing quite soon and that she will not be participating in the campaign.”

  “And the president is keeping him as his running mate? Wow.”

  “They intend for Stanton to announce this during his opening statement to the Senate Judiciary Committee. They figure it will blow over quickly.”

  “That seems like a good plan,” Smith said.

  “It’s a good plan, if the governor has told them everything. It’s my experience that no one ever tells anyone, let alone a Senate committee, everything about the circumstances of a pending divorce.”

  “I agree.”

  “What I want you to find out is everything, or at least everything the governor is willing to tell anybody.”

  “What methods do you wish me to employ to secure this information, Director?”

  “I want you to ask him.”

  Smith blinked. “Oh.”

  “And then I want you to check out everything he says and, in addition, everything he doesn’t say. I want you to do it fast, and I want you to do it good, because when I report to the president that his candidate is squeaky clean or, at least, highly unlikely to get caught doing anything that isn’t squeaky clean, I want to be telling my president the truth. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Director.” Smith held up a folder. “I have his questionnaire, and there are some points in there that I will raise with him. Ah, you said there were two things you wanted me to raise with the governor. What was the other one?”

  “I want you to ask him where he was born. That is, exactly where he was born.”

  “Exactly?”

  “Get a street address, if you can.”

  “May I ask the relevance of this information, Director?”

  “Not yet.”

  Smith flipped through the pages of his file on Stanton and came up with a sheet of paper. “His birth certificate says he was born at San Diego Women’s Hospital, in California. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “Look just under the hospital name, Kerry. What does it say?”

  Smith looked at the information. “It says ‘in transit.’”

  “I want you to find out exactly what that means.”

  “I expect it means in an ambulance, on the way to the hospital.”

  “I can tell you the governor wasn’t born in an ambulance, and what the birth certificate doesn’t tell us is where his mother was in transit from.”

  Smith shook his head. “I’m sorry, Director, but you’re going to have to tell me what you’re talking about, because I’m not getting it.”

  Kinney sat ba
ck in his chair and tossed a file across his desk. “Read this,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

  Smith read quickly through the two sheets of paper.

  “Are you getting the drift, Kerry?”

  “Having read his questionnaire, I can see how there may be problems. Is the governor aware of these circumstances?”

  “From my reading of his questionnaire and the preliminary report, he is either not aware of them or is concealing them. I want to know if either of those things is true.”

  “Director, forgive me for asking, but if this information is not known to the governor, how did you come by it?”

  “I had a phone call from someone who, if not in a position to know, was at least in a position to ask some questions.”

  “Was this person a member of the Republican Party?”

  “That’s enough questions, Kerry. Now get out of my office.”

  Smith gulped. He now realized that the file in his hand and what he would add to it in his investigation and interview of the governor might determine who the next vice president and, therefore, a potential future president would be.

  Kerry Smith stood. “Sir, I will find out what you want to know.”

  “Thank you, Kerry,” Kinney said. “And don’t keep me waiting for information about this.”

  Kerry Smith got out of there fast.

  12

  MARTIN STANFORD CLOSED THE DOOR OF THE LITTLE OFFICE HE HAD BEEN ASSIGNED in the family quarters of the White House and sat down. He figured a president’s secretary had once worked in this room; it was too small for a visiting dignitary. He unlocked his briefcase and removed a cell phone that had been purchased for him at a grocery store in Los Angeles, one containing a prepaid phone card and no GPS chip, then he dialed the number, which he had committed to memory and not stored in the phone, of a duplicate cell phone.

  “Hi there,” she said.

  “Hi there, yourself.”

  “How did it go this morning?”

  “Well, I think. At least he didn’t immediately dump me. My guess is, the way he thinks, he’ll want me to make it public soon, to get it out of the way.”

  “How is the gargoyle going to feel about that?”

  “She’ll be good with it. She thinks she wants it even more than I do.”

  “How about your kids?”

  “They’re grown-ups. They’ll take it well, and they probably won’t be very surprised.”

  “Is there any suspicion of us?”

  “Not that I’ve detected. How about on your end?”

  “Nope. We’ve been very careful, and it’s paying off.”

  “Are you still willing to move here?”

  “You bet I am. Your successor and I don’t really get along all that well, and I don’t want to work for him when you’re gone. And there’s some news: I’ve heard through the legal grapevine that the AAG for criminal stuff is not going to be around for the next term, and he wants to leave as soon as his boss can find a replacement.”

  “That would be a great job for you, after your years as an ADA and state justice, before you came to work for me.”

  “You bet your ass it would, and I’ve already made some calls. They’re sending me an application to start the process.”

  “Listen, baby, I can’t have anything to do with your application; I can’t even write a letter, unless the AG asks me to.”

  “How about if I give the big guy as a reference. I’ve known him since he was a Capitol Hill aide, worked with him a couple of times on justice issues.”

  “Good idea. He’ll ask me, and I’ll give him my highest recommendation.”

  “Then I’ll get started on the application as soon as it comes. When do you want me to resign?”

  “We talk almost every day on state business. During the next call, tell me about your plan, then send me a letter saying that you want to start looking for something, but you’ll stay on until you’ve nailed down a new job. That’ll get it on the record, and be sure to log the content of our conversation. I’ll do the same.”

  “Can we get together when I’m in town?” she asked.

  “Baby, you know we can’t do that. I’ve got the whole process to go through, and I’ve got a security detail on my back now. But announcing this means we can start the proceedings immediately, and I’ve already talked with my people about how to divvy up, so that shouldn’t take long. I’m sure she has a list of what she wants. I’ll give her the house at home, of course, and she’ll pretty much get half. Don’t worry, there’ll be enough for us, especially if I get the job. And after that, who knows?”

  “How are we going to handle it when I get there?”

  “After everything’s over, we’ll arrange to bump into each other at some public event, then we’ll do a few dinners, or something, just to let people get used to seeing us together, and after that, we’ll be home free. I think you might like that very nice house over at the Naval Observatory.”

  “I might at that,” she said.

  “I wish you were here, now, babe,” he said.

  “I want to fuck you,” she said.

  “How would you like it?”

  “Every which way.”

  “That’s a promise, but we have to be patient. If you get a chance, be seen with other men around town. That would be good for us.”

  “What if I fall in love?”

  “You’re already in love,” he said, “and so am I. We’re going to make this work. Bye-bye, now. We won’t be talking for a while, and always let me make the call.”

  “Will do, and I’m holding you to that promise.”

  Stanton hung up and tried not to think about her body.

  A BLOCK AND A HALF AWAY, a man in an extremely well-equipped car was fiddling with a very illegal scanner that operated on cell-phone frequencies. He had caught only snatches of that conversation, since in this neighborhood he couldn’t park where the reception was best and listen without attracting Secret Service attention. He didn’t know who the parties were, but he knew there was a story in this, probably a big one. He would just have to keep listening. He shut off his recorder and made a note of the time and place where the reception had been best, then he took the memory chip from the recorder and slipped it into his pocket. He’d go over it later with Marlene; she was very good at figuring out this stuff.

  13

  FBI ASSISTANT DIRECTOR KERRY SMITH, ALONG WITH A RECORDING TECHNICIAN AND the agent who was nominally in charge of the background investigation, Shelly Bach, presented himself at the reception desk at the White House.

  Smith gave his name and title. “I have an appointment with Governor Martin Stanton,” he told the uniformed Secret Service officer behind the desk.

  “Yes, Director Smith,” the officer replied, “we’ve reserved the Map Room for you, and you’ll have half an hour to set up your equipment before the governor arrives.”

  Smith and his little group followed another officer down hallways until they were admitted to a handsome room.

  “This is called the Map Room,” the officer said, “because during World War Two all the theater operations maps were displayed here and kept current so that President Roosevelt could consult them at any time.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Kerry replied, because it was. “Thanks for your help.” The man left, and the technician began setting up the equipment around the conference table.

  WILL LEE STOOD as Governor Stanton was shown into his private study, off the Oval Office. They shook hands and sat down.

  “Good morning, Marty,” Will said.

  “Good morning, Will.”

  “I’ve talked with all the relevant people about your situation, and there’s a general agreement that you should remain on the ticket. Whatever light flak we might receive about your domestic situation would be less than the difficulties involved in choosing a new running mate, and we all agree that you’re the best man for the job.”

  Stanton heaved an audible sigh. “Thank you, Will, I’m very pl
eased to hear that.”

  “We’re able to proceed as before, largely because of your candor in bringing up the situation now, instead of later, and I want you to know we’re all grateful to you.”

  “I’m looking forward to the campaign,” Stanton said. “Just let me know what you want me to do.”

  “Right now my staff are putting together a schedule for you, Marty, and, of course, they’ll want your approval before it’s all set. Roughly, the FBI expects to conclude its background check this week, perhaps as early as tomorrow, and the day after the National Cathedral service for George Kiel, I’ll announce that I’m appointing you to his unexpired term. Barring any hiccups, we should have Senate approval inside of a week.”

  “That’s moving fast,” Stanton said.

  “We’re going to need every day between now and the election,” Will said. “The Republican Convention starts Monday, and we’ll all be interested, of course, to see who they pick. They’re going to get a big television audience, because of the closeness of their race. No one candidate has the delegates to sew it up yet.”

  “I think you can beat any one of them handily, Will.”

  “Together, I think we can.” Will’s phone buzzed, and he picked it up. “Thank you,” he said, and hung up. “The FBI people are ready for you in the Map Room.”

  Cora Parker, the formidable African-American woman who was Will’s personal secretary, came into the room. “Governor, if you’ll follow me, please,” she said.

  “We’ll talk more later,” Will said, waving him off.

  KERRY SMITH STOOD as Governor Martin Stanton walked into the room. “Good morning, Governor,” he said, with a smile. “I’m Assistant Director of the FBI Kerry Smith. This is my associate, Special Agent Shelly Bach, and our technician, Danny Miller.”

  The governor shook hands all around.

  “Please have a seat there,” Kerry said, indicating a chair on the other side of the table. “As you can see, you and I and Shelly each have a microphone before us.” He pointed to the other items on the table. “These small objects are high-definition television cameras. It’s customary to record all background-check interviews, so that we can review transcripts for accuracy, if necessary. When the interview has been completed, the tapes will be secured in an FBI vault. At a later date to be determined, they will either be destroyed or given to you for your collection of personal papers, whichever you desire.”