Capitol Betrayal

by William Bernhardt

None of the others could see it. They were too far away or sitting at the wrong angle. But Ben could tell. He could see the telltale movement in the upper leg. And when Ben “inadvertently” dropped a page of his hastily scribbled notes, he confirmed it.

  The president’s feet were tap-dancing again.

  If he had started that, what would he do next?

  37

  11:41 A.M.

  “Sarie brought up one more incident, Mr. President. Perhaps the strangest of them all. It involved you up on the roof of the White House, a purported attempt to fly, and threats to kill yourself. What really happened?”

  The president sighed heavily. “Well, you’re right about one thing, Ben. That one was very different from the others. Very different indeed.”

  “Please explain.”

  “I suppose, at the end of the day, it does reveal an error in judgment on my part. Not insanity, to be sure. But a mistake. I thought I could trust Sarie Morrell.”

  Across the table, Ben saw Sarie’s lips part. The sadness on her face was palpable. Ben keenly regretted this. He genuinely liked Sarie and thought she was the shining light in an otherwise middling staff. But her testimony had been damaging to the president. If he was going to win this trial, he was going to have to confront what she said head-on.

  “Please explain.”

  “Let me say one thing up front. I don’t blame her. She didn’t want to testify. But when she did, she revealed things that were told to her in confidence, and honestly, if a president can’t trust his own chief of staff, who can he trust? Apparently, no one.”

  Sarie looked as if she had been stabbed by a butcher knife, but the president continued.

  “Yes, I went out on the roof. I was desperate for some privacy. Some time to myself, something I never seem to get. Don’t you like to be alone occasionally? I think everyone wants some alone time every now and again. But I never get it, not unless I make it. So I ditched my keepers and climbed out on the roof. But I was there less than ten minutes when, what do you know, here comes Sarie, hunting me down. I was furious. I will admit I acted a little weird. But I did it purposely. I did it because I wanted her to leave.”

  “Did it work?”

  “Hell, no. The weirder I got, the more determined she seemed to stick with me. It was a lose-lose scenario. Yes, I talked about flying. Who hasn’t dreamed of flying, of just taking off and going wherever you want? Up, up, and away, right? I even pantomimed it a bit. But I didn’t plan to do it. Why Sarie ever thought I might-well, who knows? I think she had already made up her mind that I was nuts. Or perhaps just too much trouble. At any rate, she told me she was done. Through. She was resigning.”

  The creases in Sarie’s brow deepened. Ben wasn’t sure if that meant she remembered doing this or didn’t.

  “How did you respond to that?”

  “I tried to talk her out of it, of course. I told her we all get despondent at one time or another. That’s when the topic of suicide arose. I confessed that on occasion I’ve had dark thoughts of doing dark things. I think that’s universal. We all have that blackness at the heart of our soul. I was trying to comfort her, to bolster her spirits. Isn’t it ironic, then, that she takes the words that were offered to help her and turns them into a weapon? Her desire to quit becomes my desire to die.”

  “Are you in fact suicidal?”

  “Not in the least. Not even in my worst moments. Not even when I desperately want to be alone. Not even now. There were times when I was a kid when I may have entertained such thoughts-when a girl dumped me, or after rereading Romeo and Juliet. But it wasn’t serious. And now I’m a mature grown-up and there’s just no chance.”

  “Not even during a press conference?”

  “I don’t know where that bit came from. I don’t recall saying anything like that. But to answer your question: no, not during a press conference. Or anywhere else. Absolutely not.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Do I look suicidal? Honestly, if most people had to go through a day like today has been for me, I think they’d be doing a lot worse than singing sitcom songs. But I’ve been in politics a while now. I’m used to it. They can’t get to me, not the real me. I have no reason to want to die.”

  “And since you mentioned the singing…”

  “Thank you,” President Kyler said eagerly. “I wanted to talk about that. I mean, forgive me for saying so, Mr. Vice President-but when did you become such a self-righteous, pompous ass?”

  Cartwright leaned forward. “The witness will address his comments to the court and the jury. Not the prosecutor.”

  If the president heard this at all, there was no sign of it. “If I want to sing, I will damn well sing. It’s a great way to relieve tension. Who hasn’t sung in the shower? Sung along to their iPod when they’re driving. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “Your choice of song was somewhat… eccentric.”

  “So what? I like that song. In fact, I love that song. I’ll sing it if I damn well please. Even the president needs a little something, some kind of release, every now and again. As long as I keep it out of the public eye, there’s nothing wrong with it. And it’s no one else’s business.” He paused, drew up his shoulders. “I’m the president of the United States, people. If I want to kick back and get silly, I will.”

  “And you have no trouble returning to business afterward.”

  “Absolutely not, and I haven’t heard anyone testify that I did. Even Sarie acknowledged that after these so-called episodes were over, I got back to business as usual. So what’s the harm? Forgive me for saying so, but I think they’re making a mountain out of a molehill. And if the vice president weren’t so eager to rest his butt in the Oval Office, he’d see how flimsy this case really is.”

  Ben paused for a moment, pleased at how well the testimony was going. This was better than he would’ve thought possible. Even though he hadn’t covered every single point Swinburne raised, he’d covered enough of them. The president had argued in favor of his right to express himself freely in private, and who would deny a president that? Like a brilliant trial lawyer, he had framed the issue in a manner that made it impossible for anyone to rule against him.

  And in Ben’s book, that meant it was time to move on. He had intentionally started with the “crazy” arguments. He thought the jury would be most interested in hearing about that, and he didn’t want to finish on that note, with the president having to defend himself. Better to get it out of the way and end with something more positive.

  But before he could do that, there was one more matter that had to be addressed.

  “Mr. President, we’ve just heard Mr. Zimmer testify that you have a son, heretofore unknown to the general public. Is that true?”

  The president blinked rapidly, then looked around the room, making eye contact with many of the people there. “Yes, it’s true.”

  Many significant looks passed through the room as President Kyler offered this confirmation, but nothing like the shock that had registered earlier. In only a few minutes this had become yesterday’s news.

  “Please tell us what happened.”

  “Of course. But I have a request first. I have no way of enforcing this. But I will ask that everyone in this room please maintain the confidentiality that goes with being in the cabinet or on the White House staff. This has become relevant to this trial, and while I regret that, I accept it. But there is no reason why this needs to be made public, especially if I remain in office once this trial is over. So I respectfully request, out of respect for my wife and children, that you keep this to yourself.”

  “I’m sure everyone will honor your request,” Ben said, expressing a confidence he did not feel. “Please proceed.”

  “My son’s name is Abe. That’s short for Abram, of course, a very popular name in the Middle East. I met his mother when I was very young and naive, just finishing up at the School of Government and Law at Yale. Tovah-that’s his mother’s name-was in some of my classes.
She was a cousin of the royal family in Kuraq, which is the only reason she was there. Although the ayatollah in charge at the time was running the government, he had allowed the royal family to remain intact for symbolic purposes. Not unlike the royal family in England -they don’t actually have any power, but the government still keeps them around. Most women in Kuraq wouldn’t even be educated, much less at Harvard. But her family’s prestige gave her special privileges.”

  “And I assume you came to know her there.”

  “It took awhile. I was a bit shy around women back then-not a ladies’ man like you, Ben.”

  Ben blinked.

  “But she was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. The smoothest, creamiest complexion and elegant light brown skin. Lovely. I’d never seen anyone before who struck me as so gorgeous. So I spent about half the semester stuttering around her. But eventually I managed to ask her out.”

  “And?”

  “We hit it off almost immediately. We had a lot in common-our idealism, our desire to serve our people, our devotion to education and political theory. But what was most intriguing was how we were different. I loved words; she loved numbers. I loved poetry; she preferred nonfiction. I liked rock and roll; she preferred classical. We didn’t duplicate each other. We complemented each other.” He shrugged. “Is it any wonder I fell in love?”

  “And were these feelings of yours reciprocated?”

  “Absolutely. We loved each other with an intensity that few people before or since have ever experienced. And out of that love was born a child.”

  “Abe Malik.”

  “Yes. Malik isn’t his surname, but it is a family name. It’s Arabic for ‘strong.’”

  “Why didn’t you marry?”

  “I wanted to. She refused. Remember, she was from Kuraq. And although she was determined to bear the child, a marriage to a Westerner would be impossible, at least if she ever intended to go back. And she did. She had great plans. She wanted to make the royal family relevant again, to bring her country out of that stagnant theocracy. And she couldn’t do any of that with me.”

  “Did you ever see the child?”

  “No. She gave birth in Kuraq, in secret. I was not allowed to visit. I didn’t see him for almost twenty years.”

  “What happened then?”

  “She returned to America. Her plans for her country never materialized. It was not the royal family that wrested power away from the ayatollah. It was Colonel Zuko.”

  “I see.”

  “And as you might imagine, he was not as comfortable with the royal family’s presence as his predecessor had been. He didn’t want any potential threats to his supremacy around. Like the rest of her family, she fled. She returned to America -this time with her son.”

  “Did she contact you?”

  “She did, although it wasn’t easy. I was governor by then, and not the easiest person in the world to contact privately. But she was always a very smart woman. I met her in secret. She had never married, never had any other children. She was devoted to Abe and her cause, nothing else. She had, I think, hoped that we might be able to… to pick up where we had left off. But it was impossible. I was married to Sophie by then-very happily, I might add. And I was in the public eye. No journalist had managed to tumble to Abe’s existence yet. We decided it was best to keep it that way. And so we parted.” He slowly exhaled. “I didn’t see Abe again for several years. Not until she sent word that our son was planning to join the Red Cross.”

  “And that concerned you?”

  “It concerned both of us. You can see why he wanted a posting near Kuraq. That’s his heritage. But I knew Colonel Zuko was on the warpath. He had already begun the invasion of the Benzai Strip. I knew trouble was coming. I knew U.S. intervention was likely. And I didn’t want my son in the middle of it. It was dangerous for anyone-but imagine if Zuko discovered Abe was his archenemy’s son. Abe’s life would be in constant jeopardy.”

  “I gather you were not able to talk him out of it?”

  “No. He’s very stubborn.” The president’s lips turned up slightly at the corners. “He probably gets that from me.”

  “Did you hear anything else from him thereafter?”

  “Precious little. I had a few people watching out for him, but I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. The fewer people who knew the truth, the better. I didn’t know how the American people would respond to the revelation that I have a secret son, but the connection to Kuraq could make that very tricky. Very dangerous politically. I hadn’t heard much about him for some time-until I saw the passenger manifest on that downed helicopter. And found his name there. As the pilot.”

  “So of course you prepared to bring in troops. To mount a rescue operation and secure the country.”

  Kyler nodded. “I like to think that I would have done that in any case. But yes, once I knew my son was in that helicopter, there really was no choice. Not for me. No choice at all.”

  “Just a few more questions, Mr. President. Do you regret your decisions regarding Kuraq?”

  “Absolutely not. That man-Colonel Zuko-is dangerous. A serious threat to the nation, as today’s events have proved. If we let him go unchecked, it will establish a precedent that quite literally could rip this country apart at the seams.”

  “The secretary of state has suggested that your failure to withdraw the troops, now that Zuko has control of some of our missiles, is insane. Do you agree?”

  “Ruiz is a good man, but I’ve never been able to get him to see the big picture. Zuko may be able to do some damage with those missiles, and I regret that. But if he does, he will earn the enmity of the world community and the UN. He will find himself cut off, unable to function, and he knows this. I think he’s trying to scare us-after all, that’s what terrorists do. But it’s brinksmanship, and I don’t think he’s stupid enough to take it too far. In the meantime, if we withdraw, we lose a good deal more than a marble monument and the people in that helicopter. Hundreds of thousands of people will be slaughtered in Benzai. I won’t have that on my conscience.”

  The vice president rose to his feet. President Kyler raised his palm and continued before he could speak.

  “Now, I am keenly aware that Vice President Swinburne has a different opinion. He’s entitled. But differing with the vice president does not mean you’re insane. Personally, I think caving in to terrorists is insane, but you’ll notice I’m not trying to have him committed.” His tone dropped a notch. “But I’m not going to let him have my job, either.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” Ben said. “Your honor, I have no more questions for this witness.”

  Ben wiped his forehead. He hadn’t realized it before, but he was sweating profusely. It wasn’t the heat; this bunker was perfectly temperature-controlled. He had been under enormous pressure, trying to figure out how to salvage this administration. But the testimony had gone well-better than he’d dreamed, actually. If the president could only survive cross-examination…

  Unfortunately, that was a huge if.

  38

  11:44 A.M.

  Vice President Swinburne cleared his throat, then began his cross. “Are you seriously suggesting that there’s something normal about dissociative episodes in which you revert to infantilism?”

  “Objection,” Ben said instantly. “Argumentative.”

  Cartwright didn’t wait for any explanations. “It’s cross-ex, son. It isn’t supposed to be friendly.”

  “But-”

  “The truth is,” he said, pointing at the clock, “we don’t have time for minor-league objections. So unless Mr. Swinburne does something so bad it threatens to induce heart failure, don’t interrupt.”

  Ben sat down, frowning. Cartwright had just given Swinburne virtual carte blanche to do whatever he wanted on cross. That could be all too dangerous.

  “What I said, I think,” the president replied calmly, was that if I wanted to sing a song, that was my right, and so long as I get my job done, as I always ha
ve, it’s no sign of insanity and none of anyone else’s business.”

  “Just as you apparently feel the members of your family are none of anyone’s business. That you can ask people for their vote but don’t need to tell them about your Middle Eastern son.”

  “Well, you’re sort of right. I think my private life is my own. Everything about me does not have to be up on display just because I’m running for office.”

  “You don’t think the public has a right to know?”

  “Of course, that’s the excuse journalists always use for prying into people’s personal lives. Or they say it’s a character issue, when it’s really just gossipmongering.”

  “It is a character issue.”

  “No, it’s an excuse for reporting tittle-tattle instead of reporting news.”

  “Are you seriously suggesting that the existence of an illegitimate son is not reflection on a candidate’s character?”

  “I think we all made mistakes when we were young.”

  “This is more than a mere mistake. You brought a human being into existence.”

  “And he’s a fine boy. What’s your point?”

  Swinburne put his fists on his hips. “My point is that you know as well as I do that this son, if revealed, would cost you votes. That’s why you kept him secret.”

  “I kept him secret? I barely knew anything about him until a few years ago. He has no desire to be a part of my life. I can sympathize with his desire not to live in a goldfish bowl. So I respected his desire for privacy.”

  “Which coincidentally dovetails nicely with your own political needs.”

  The president’s words were becoming terse, overenunciated. He was getting angry-the worst possible attitude for a witness on cross. “I don’t believe that most people are so shallow and judgmental they would change their vote based upon a mistake I made almost thirty years ago.”

  “But you weren’t willing to take the risk, were you? That’s why you kept him hidden.”

  “I’ve already explained that decision.”