Term Limits mr-1

by Vince Flynn

  Liz wasn’t sure yet. She liked her job less and less every week, but hadn’t grown to hate it yet. She had worked hard to get where she was and wasn’t quite sure she was ready to give it up and move to Minnesota.

  Scarlatti smiled at O’Rourke and asked, “So, did you see me on TV yesterday?” The smile disappeared from O’Rourke’s mouth.

  “What was that all about? You know how much I hate publicity.”

  O’Rourke changed his voice and started to mimic her, “‘Mr. President, Congressman

  O’Rourke says your budget is stuffed with more pork than a Jimmy Dean sausage.” Come on, Liz, I had reporters calling my office all afternoon.” O’Rourke had been mad as hell yesterday when he saw her get up at the press conference and quote him, but now, sitting in front of her, all that anger was gone. “Well, I’m sorry, Michael, you’re a public figure, and what you say is news.”

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  “First of all, I’m not eligible, and I have no control over what some flighty gossip columnist writes. With you, that’s a different story.

  All I’m asking is that in the future we keep our relationship a little more private. What is said when we’re in bed together stays between you and me.” Scarlatti leaned forward.

  “If that’s what you really want, I will respect it, but I’ll never understand your aversion to the press. You’re the only politician I know who consciously tries to stay out of the limelight.”

  “Liz, we’ve been over this before. Let’s not go over it again.”

  Michael gave her a forced smile and then said, “By the way, congratulations! You looked very good yesterday. You were the only one who challenged him.

  The rest of those pansies rolled over and gave him nice, easy questions.”

  “That’s why they get called on. Those press conferences are the biggest scams. The

  President calls on the same people every time because he knows they’ll toss him a nice big fat one.” The President was sitting behind his desk in the Oval Office wearing a dark suit, striped tie, and white shirt.

  Pieces of Kleenex were stuffed between his collar and neck as a woman stood over him and applied makeup to his face. Stu Garret loomed over the other shoulder and read off a list of last-minute reminders. Ted Hopkinson was in the midst of a final check to see that everything was in place. In five minutes they would be live in front of the nation.

  Garret waved away the woman who was doing the makeup. “That’s enough.

  He looks fine! … Now, Jim. remember, start out looking somber.

  We want to show them that you’re in pain. Stay kind of slouched over during the first part, like you did during the last rehearsal. When we get to the last part, about democracy and the founders of this country, I want you to become more stiff and rigid. Sit up straight, but don’t pound your fist on the desk like you did during the last rehearsal. It comes off a little too strong. Just stick with your old standby. Pull that arm in tight and shake your fist at the camera. Not too fast.

  Shake it slow and deliberately, like you’re emphasizing every word.”

  Garret mimicked the move. Hopkinson approached and pulled the Kleenex out from under the President’s collar. “Sir, you know the routine.

  Please don’t touch your face, your shirt, or your tie. The makeup will smear and we’re going to be live in minutes.” Scarlatti and O’Rourke were glancing at their menus, and discussing the assassinations, when the subdued roar of the Friday-night crowd dropped to a hushed silence.

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  When they looked up, the President’s face was on every TV in the bar.

  Several people made sarcastic remarks and were shouted down by the other patrons.

  The President started to speak. “Good evening. I will be very brief and to the point tonight. It is with deep sorrow that I come to you, to discuss a great loss to our nation. the tragic deaths of Congressman Koslowski, Senator Fitzgerald, and Senator Downs ….

  These three great statesmen have given over eighty years of service to the people of

  America. During that time, they fought with passion for the things they believed in:

  freedom, democracy, and the welfare of every man, woman, and child in America. Their careers were long and illustrious. Between them, they authored hundreds of bills that have helped make America a better place to live and work. Their leadership, guidance, and wisdom will be greatly missed in the hallowed halls of Congress, and I will greatly miss their friendship.” The President looked down for a moment and paused. “I would ask all of you, my fellow Americans, to keep Congressman Koslowski, Senator

  Fitzgerald, Senator Downs, and their families in your prayers. They were not perfect;

  none of us are. Yet they overcame their imperfections and gave everything they had to their country and their fellow countrymen.

  For this, we will always be indebted to them.” The President paused again, his face drawn, staring into the camera. “We, in the nation’s capital, are in shock over the senseless, violent murders that were committed this morning. We are a very close group.

  Many of us have worked beside each other for decades.

  I, myself, have known Congressman Koslowski, Senator Fitzgerald, and Senator

  Downs for over thirty years. I have met their wives and children. I have watched their children grow up, get married, and have children of their own. It is extremely painful for us to see three men, who have given so much, struck down in one senseless flurry of violence.” Again, the President looked down and paused for a moment.

  When he looked back up, he picked up a piece of paper and held it up to the camera.

  “Many of you are aware of this letter that was received by the media today. The FBI has informed me there is a very good chance this letter is from the group that committed the murders of Congressman Koslowski, Senator Fitzgerald, and Senator Downs. The FBI

  also believes there is a very good chance this letter was sent as a piece of disinformation, sent to lead the investigation in the wrong direction.

  Due to the investigation taking place, I cannot expand on this any further. All I can say for now is that FBI director Roach has assured me that the terrorists who killed these defenseless men will be caught and brought to justice.” The President waved the letter in the air and sat more upright. “The people who committed this crime represent the antithesis of democracy. They represent tyranny. What happened this morning was not just the murder of three important politicians. It was an attack on the United States of

  America. It was an assault on the ideals of democracy. Our country was founded by men and women who fled the tyranny of monarchies and dictatorships from all over the world.

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  They made America a place where everyone could have a say in how the country was run: a government for the people, by the people, and of the people. Over the years, we have fought in countless wars defending freedom and democracy. Millions of American men and women have died so that we could continue to live free, to have a say in how our government works, so that democracy could flourish!” The President became more animated. “The cruel and inhumane murders that were perpetrated this morning represent what those millions of Americans died fighting against. They were acts of tyranny, the harsh, violent, and forceful rule of the few over the many. Democracy and diversity have made America great. We are great because everyone has had a say, not because a militant few have shoved their beliefs and ideals down the throats of the rest of the country. Even if the demands of this letter were genuine, which we do not think they are, I could not accept them. If you, the American people, want to make changes in the way your government is run, those changes must take place in a peaceful and democratic way.

  They must take place within our current legislative and legal system. You have chosen me to be your President, and I have taken an oath to uphold the laws of this land and to protect the national security of America.

  “The people who committed these crimes are terrorists and cowards. I will contin
ue the policy of my predecessors. I will not deal with terrorists. The FBI, along with the cooperation of our other law enforcement and intelligence agencies, will hunt these animals down and put them behind bars. Many Americans have died fighting for democracy. Congressman Koslowski, Senator Fitzgerald, and Senator Downs are three more names that will be added to that long and noble list. They were patriots who not only believed in democracy and freedom, who not only lived and enjoyed the fruits of democracy and freedom, they were men who fought for democracy and freedom so the rest of us could enjoy it. “The deaths of these three great Americans are a tragedy and loss to our entire nation, but America is a country that has suffered many losses in her long and glorious battle to sustain freedom.

  Throughout our history we have been faced with great trials and tribulations. We have, as a nation, always risen above these obstacles and emerged stronger! Next week, we will, as a nation, bury these three honorable men. We will mourn their deaths as a country, and then we will do as they would have wished.” The President picked his right hand off the desk and clenched his fist. Continuing to speak, he slowly thrust it forward, toward the camera. “America and democracy are too big and good to be brought down by tyranny. We will push on, we will persevere, we will overcome!” There was a long pause as he continued to stare into the camera and let the words he’d spoken hang, and then in closing he said, “Good night, and may God bless each of you.”

  The PRESIDENT CONTINUED TO STARE INTO THE CAMERA UNTIL

  HOPKINSON stepped in and pulled him out of his chair. “Sir, all of these mikes are still live, and the camera is sending out a feed.” The President nodded, knowing what his communications director was implying. The previous year Stevens had told several off—

  color jokes following his Saturday-afternoon radio address. He thought the microphones had been turned off, but they weren’t. The press had .jumped all over him, but since the

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  jokes were actually funny, the damage was minor. Hopkinson and Garret were always on the alert to prevent a similar mistake.

  Garret walked over and said, “Come on, gentlemen, let’s go to my office.” He shook his head toward the door, and the President and Hopkinson followed. When they entered

  Garret’s office, the President turned to Hopkinson and asked, “How did I look?”

  “You looked fine, sir.”

  “Did it look genuine and heartfelt?”

  “I thought so, but we’ll know more in about an hour. I’ve got a polling group calling five hundred homes right now to try and get an early read on what the public thinks.” Stu

  Garret sat down behind his desk, shoved a cigarette in his mouth, and turned on the little brown smoke-eater next to his ashtray. After taking a deep drag, he pulled the cigarette away from his lips and started to speak, his lungs still filled with smoke. “You did a nice job, Jim. If we handle this thing right, I think we’re going to see a big jump in your approval ratings.”

  Smoke started to seep out of Garret’s nose, and he tilted his head back, exhaling a deep gray cloud toward the ceiling. “There’s nothing like the exposure you get from a crisis.”

  Back in Blacky’s, the roar of conversation had returned as the patrons discussed the events of the day and the President’s speech. O’Rourke was intentionally keeping his mouth shut as Scarlatti stared at him. He looked over the top of his menu at her big brown eyes. “Michael, you know I’m dying to hear what you have to say about this whole thing.”

  “About what?” Scarlatti pulled the menu out of his hands. “Don’t play coy with me, Michael, I’m serious. I really want to know what you think about this. I mean, it isn’t every day two Senators and a Congressman get assassinated.”

  Michael thought about sugarcoating his comment and then opted for the direct approach. “In a nutshell, Liz, I think Koslowski, Downs, and Fitzgerald were the scum of the earth.

  They represented the core of what is wrong with this town.”

  “Come now, Michael, how do you really feel about them?” asked Scarlatti sarcastically. “Listen, I’m not crazy about our political leadership getting gunned down under the cover of darkness, but considering where we’re headed, I’m not so sure these assassins aren’t doing all of us a huge favor.” Scarlatti looked down and said, “I’m afraid there are a lot of people out there who would agree with you.

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  Doesn’t it worry you at all as a Congressman, that these terrorists may turn the gun on you eventually?”

  “No.” Michael shook his head. “There are bigger fish to fry than me. And besides, I’m not so sure they’re terrorists.”

  “You don’t think they’re terrorists?” asked Liz with a quizzical expression.

  “No. It’s an overused cliche, but one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.

  These guys haven’t killed any civilians.” O’Rourke paused for a second. In a voice just above a whisper he continued, “If no one else dies, and this group can bring about the changes they stated in their demands, this will be one of the best things that has happened in this country since the civil rights movement.”

  “Well, from what the President just said, there’s reason to believe that letter is a fake.”

  “Come on, Liz.” O’Rourke frowned. “You’re a reporter. Do you really believe a word that comes out of Stevens’s mouth? The White House is already trying to spin this thing and they don’t even know what’s going on. Those guys are sitting over there right now shitting in their pants.” O’Rourke picked up his fork and tapped it lightly on the place mat. “Today was supposed to be a big day for them. The President was going to pass his budget, but instead he wakes up and finds out that two Senators and his point man in

  Congress have been assassinated.

  Then he receives a letter telling him it’s time to get his act together, or he’s next. Liz, this is their worst fear, and’not just the President, all of them. They’ve played their little game of party politics for years.

  Every election they say they’re going to cut all the wasteful spending, give a tax break to the middle class, and balance the budget. They say anything to get elected, and then, once they’re back in office, it’s the same old crap: more spending, no tax breaks, and more deficits.”

  Scarlatti shook her head and smiled. O’Rourke looked at her and asked, “What?”

  “I guess I’m just a little shocked. I would have thought that you, of all people, Mr.

  Law and Order, would have been denouncing what happened today. I mean, I’m the liberal. I’m supposed to be supporting anarchy, not you.”

  “This isn’t anarchy, Liz. It may be a revolt, but it’s not anarchy.”

  Smiling, he said, “Besides, you’re a member of the press. You’re supposed to be neutral, remember?”

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  Special Agent McMahon was sitting at the head of the table in a large conference room down the hall from his office. The room was quickly becoming the command center for the investigation. He was staring at the TV in disbelief. The President had just finished his address to the nation, and McMahon did not like what he had heard. He grabbed the phone next to him and dialed the direct line to Roach’s office. After several rings, the director answered, “Hello.”

  “What in the hell was that all about?”

  “I have no idea,” Roach responded flatly. “Has anyone from the Bureau told them we believe the letter is a piece of disinformation?”

  “No,” sighed Roach.

  “You didn’t actually promise him that we would catch these guys, did you?”

  “Skip, you know better than that.”

  “What in the hell is going on?

  I don’t understand why in the hell he would say something like that.”

  “I think I might. Why don’t you meet me in my office tomorrow morning at eight?

  The President wants to see us at noon. That should give us time to go over some things.”

  “I’ll be there at eight.”

>   “How are things going on your end?”

  “So far the preliminary reports on the autopsies haven’t turned anything up, and the letters we intercepted were negative for prints.

  They may find out more after they pick them apart, but I doubt it.”

  “Have any of those people from the park come in to try to give us a composite of the guy they saw?”

  “Yeah, we’ve got three who think they saw the perpetrator. Right now they’re in separate rooms giving their descriptions to different artists. When they’re done, we’ll bring them together and compare.”

  “Good. I assume we’re taking extra precautions to make sure their names aren’t leaked?”

  “As far as the press knows, there are no witnesses to any of the killings.”

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  “Have we made arrangements to provide protection for them?”

  “It’s already been taken care of.”

  “All right, stay in touch. I’ll be here until about ten.” McMahon hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands. He didn’t move for almost five minutes. He was trying to think of a reason why the President would say the letter was a decoy. He stood and looked at the two agents sitting to his left. “Kathy and Dan, come with me.”

  McMahon walked out of the room and down the hall to his office.

  Special Agents Kathy Jennings and Dan Wardwell followed. When Jennings and

  Wardwell entered the room, he shut the door and motioned to the couch. The two agents sat down. McMahon paced for a moment and then stopped. “I think we all agree that the letter mailed to NBC was sent by the same group that killed Koslowski, Downs, and

  Fitzgerald. It’s a no-brainer. The letter was mailed before the murders took place and it names the men who were killed. Are we all in agreement?” Jennings and Wardwell nodded yes.