I squeezed my forehead, then turned around so I didn’t have to face her. “We have solid evidence that they killed him. I will be working closely with the FBI—”
“No, no, noooo!” she said, pounding my back. “Don’t you dare stand there and tell me my husband is dead! He’s not dead, and why would anyone want to hurt him?”
Andrew attempted to pull Gena away from me. “Ca . . . Calm down and let’s go back over to the sofa and have a seat.”
I turned around, and seeing how devastated she was, I could only think that if her husband had been successful at taking my life tonight, Raynetta could very well be in Gena’s place instead.
She snatched away from Andrew who was trying to console her. “I don’t want to sit down! Something isn’t adding up, and if those men came here to kill you, why didn’t they do it? How are you still alive, yet my husband is dead? How were they able to get by Secret Service? This is bull, Mr. President, and I want the truth—now!”
I remained calm as ever. The look of sadness stayed locked on my face. I did my best to convince Gena that what I had told her was the truth. She stared at me with evil eyes, so I unbuttoned my shirt so she could see the tight bandages wrapped at my midsection.
“I managed to get away.. Tyler didn’t, so they took him away. One of the Secret Service agents assisted me, but many of us are aware that Secret Service has failed us around here and have put our lives in danger. I’m sorry that they allowed this to happen, and all I can do, going forward, is make sure nothing like this ever happens again. In the interim, we will hunt down and find who did this. Currently, we don’t have Tyler’s body, but we do have photos that confirm he is deceased. I am deeply sorry, and if there is anything . . . Anything that I can do to help your family during this difficult time, I will be more than willing to do it.”
Gena released staggering cries. I stepped forward to secure her in my arms. She pounded my chest, crying harder as she slid from my arms, falling to her knees.
“I . . . I want you to find out who those animals are and kill them! I want them dead, and I want to see, see what they did to my husband’s body! This can’t be real, Mr. President. They can’t get away with anything like this, you hear me! They just can’t!”
“And they won’t,” I rushed to say, kneeling down next to her. “We will find them. You have my word that we will, but I need for you to be strong and stand with me tonight as I address the American people. Let’s stand against all of this violence that has now made its way into the White House and caused irreparable damage. Racism has no place in this country, and tonight, you and I can stand against gun violence and hate groups who attempt to divide us. Tyler would want that. I know he would, and I will demand that his body be returned to us or else.”
Gena lowered her head, continuing to sob. My eyes shifted to Andrew who stood as if he was a mannequin. A puzzled expression covered his face; he stared at me as if he could see straight through my lies. I turned my attention back to Gena who was rocking back and forth while still on her knees.
“Let me help you,” I said, helping her off the floor. “I need you, Gena, but it’s up to you, if you want to stand with me tonight. I’ll be in the Press Briefing Room in about forty-five minutes. Call whomever you need to call and let them know about this. And please, offer everyone my condolences.” I looked at Andrew who remained in awe. “Please go get Levi or another agent at the door. Tell them to take care of Gena, and make sure she is under tight security tonight.”
Andrew and I helped Gena off the floor. She was barely able to stand; her skinny legs looked fragile. Andrew walked to the door, ordering a Secret Service agent, Kenny, to come inside. He escorted Gena out of the Oval Office, and once the door was shut, Andrew removed his glasses, releasing a deep sigh.
“If you don’t mind, Mr. President, I now would like to hear the real truth. There were no threatening letters, and no one got by Secret Service and came in here with guns.”
I walked over to my desk, taking a seat in the chair. “Are you calling me a liar?”
Andrew hesitated for a few seconds, before proceeding. “The truth, yes, I am, sir. I’m not buying that cockamamie story, and I demand the truth.”
“I just told you and Gena the truth. If you don’t believe me, too bad.”
Andrew shook his head. “No, it’s not too bad. I need to know what in the hell is going on, and I want to know right freaking now!”
His voice had gone up a few notches. It didn’t move me, but it surprised me.
“For the last time, the truth went in one ear, and if you allowed it to exit the other, that’s on you. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to wrap up a few things before I speak to the American people. I also need for you to set up a meeting later with me, the FBI, and Homeland Security. I want every single agent who works here to join us, and if you can handle that little task for me, I would appreciate it.”
“I can, but I won’t. Not until you tell me the truth. For God’s sake, tell me the damn truth! I’m not your enemy, okay? I don’t know why you don’t trust me, and if you can’t fucking tell me what exactly happened here tonight, then maybe I don’t need to be here!”
I slammed my hand on the desk. “Then get the fuck out, because I don’t trust you. I will never trust you or no other motherfucker around here smiling in my face, yet waiting for me to fail! For all I know, you could have been plotting with Tyler. You could have given him the gun to kill me, and until I know every single detail about why the vice president of the United States attempted to kill me, my guard will stay up.”
Andrew’s mouth was wide open. “Ty . . . Tyler is the one who tried to kill you?”
“You look surprised.”
“That’s because I am. Why would he do something like that?”
“Take a look at my skin. It’s black. But maybe you can tell me why, especially if you’re one of those blind-ass people who don’t think extreme racism exists.”
“I swear to you, Mr. President, that I am not a racist, and I didn’t know anything about his plans to kill you. I am completely shocked, and what . . .” he paused, then looked at the door. Seconds later, he turned to me again. “What about Gena? Why did you lie to her? If Tyler attempted to kill you, why didn’t you just tell her?”
“You’re asking too many questions, Andrew. Questions that I’m not prepared to answer just yet. Nonetheless, I will say this. Many Americans sympathize with white women, way more than they do with a black man, president or not. If I want gun control laws to be passed and hate crimes and racism against African American people to be dealt with, I know exactly who to put in front of the cameras. If you are just as concerned about those issues as I am, do whatever you can to make sure Gena is prepped, cleaned up, and ready to speak up tonight in the Press Briefing Room. Then again, if all you want to do is stand there and yell at me about not telling you the truth, then I damn well know whose side you’re on.”
“I’m always on your side, Mr. President. Don’t you ever forget it.”
“Then by all means, damn it, prove it.”
Andrew walked away. My eyes followed him to the door, and after he left, I started jotting down a few notes that I wanted to speak about tonight. I prayed that Gena would be there with me too.
22
President of the United States, Stephen C Jefferson
Less than one hour later, I, along with Gena and Sam, stood in the Press Briefing Room to speak to the American people. We appeared torn. Broken. Devastated. Tearful. Disgusted, as well as confused by a tragic loss that shouldn’t have happened . . . depending on who you asked, of course. After my tearful speech about finding the killers, pushing for gun control, and the need to confront racism, the reporters started to weigh in. My arms were around Gena’s shoulders, comforting her as she buried her head in my chest and cried.
“Mr. President,” the male reporter said in a soft tone, “we have never seen you quite this emotional before. Do you worry that the killers will view you as a wea
k president and attempt to come after you again?”
Stupid muthafucka, I thought. Any other time I wouldn’t have answered his question, but tonight, I needed to keep my cool and make as many people as I could sympathize with what had happened. I swallowed hard, then narrowed my eyes, allowing another tear to fall.
“Even Jesus wept, and I assure you that He was not a weak man. There has been a tragic loss in this house tonight, and we all have to ask ourselves why. Why and how could something like this happen? I’ll tell you how. Because we have allowed the NRA and people with guns to win. Sick people who have no business with them have them. Anybody who wants a gun can get it, and we defend this by referring to our Second Amendment rights, the right to keep and bear arms. And while no one wants to infringe upon those rights, we have to consider what is occurring in this country and be willing to make some changes. We should also be ashamed of ourselves for not standing up and saying enough is enough. We’ve told ourselves that a black man’s life has no value, even when he is voted in to lead this country. The hate mail that I receive speaks volumes, and I am devastated, tonight, that my vice president had to ultimately pay the price in order for us to wake up and realize that racism is an extremely serious problem, not only in this country, but also around the world. If shedding tears for the loss of my dear friend and closest confidant makes me appear weak to anyone, then I’ll be it.”
“The president is right,” Gena said, moving away from my hold and stepping closer to the podium. She wiped her tears, barely able to speak. “We . . . We can’t allow this anymore. We can’t sit back and not do anything. Tyler paid a huge price tonight for our lack of action, and even though gun control laws may or may not have prevented this, we do know that too many guns are getting into the hands of the wrong people. People who are killing others because of their religion or sexual preferences. And because of the color of their skin. No president should have to endure this kind of ill treatment, and who are we to sit quietly and allow it? For the sake of God, and in memory of my husband, I’m asking the American people to stand with us tonight. Pray that we find the killers, and to whoever they are, please send my husband’s body back to meee!” she cried out uncontrollably.
There was a crisp silence in the room. Many eyes filled with tears. Every eye was upon us, and just as I had expected, she moved them. One reporter was brave enough to stand.
“Mrs. McNeil, I’m so sorry for your loss, and you too, Mr. President. Do you have any idea who the shooters were, and what are you planning to do about the makeup of your Secret Service detail? No one has ever been able to enter the White House with guns and do such a thing.”
“Unfortunately, during the term of another president who happened to be African American, and unbeknownst to the American people, similar incidents occurred. Do your homework; I’ve done mine. Secret Service will be dealt with, but tonight, we ask for your prayers. Pray for peace, unity, resolutions, and that the killers are soon found. Thank you all for coming here, and may God continue to bless this beautiful country we live in.”
We all stepped away, and after the door to the briefing room was closed, Gena thanked me. She then walked away with Andrew who was waiting to escort her to a car so she could join Tyler’s family. I was just about ready to walk away too, but Sam stopped me. The door to the briefing room opened, and there stood Michelle Peoples.
“Mr. President, I know you’re busy,” Sam said. “But she wanted to know if she could have five minutes of your time.”
The door to where we normally met was opened. I walked inside, Michelle followed me. She shut the door, then quickly rushed up to me, easing her arms around my waist. I deeply inhaled from the painful feeling of her squeezing my midsection.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, looking up at me. “This is such a scary situation, and I was so worried when I heard the news.”
I removed her arms, backing away to ease the pain. “Thanks for your concern. I’ll be fine, trust me. As for you, how did things go with your husband?”
“I gave him the divorce papers, and he thanked me for setting him free. Said he would be in touch, and then walked out. I’m just happy it’s over.”
I nodded, feeling glad for her. I also had many loose ends to tie up, so I had to make this quick. “That’s good, and I hope that you get everything that is coming to you.”
“Same to you. I know it’s late, and I’m sure you have a lot of things to do. But I’ll be up for a while. Want to celebrate my divorce, and you look like you could use a soothing body rub. My hands work wonders, you know.”
“You don’t have to convince me, but we’ll see. I’ll send you a text, if I can make it.”
Michelle gazed at me as if she wanted to say something else. Whatever it was, she didn’t say, but she reached out, again, to hug me. This time, she leaned in for a kiss. I could never deny the sweet taste of her lips, so we indulged ourselves for a few minutes. As I cuffed her pretty face with my hands, I brushed her soft cheeks with my thumbs. I backed my head away from her, looking into her eyes.
“My text may not come until two or three in the morning,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter. Whatever time you come, I’ll be waiting.”
I pressed my thick lips against hers, sampling them again before we parted ways. As we exited the room, Sam and Levi were by the door, and to my right, far down the hallway, was Raynetta. Her eyes were contracted, and an evil glare was visible in them. She rolled them at me, then walked away. So did Michelle who didn’t see Raynetta. Levi did, and as he, Sam, and I, made our way down the corridor, Levi had several questions for me. Sam walked several feet in front of us; he couldn’t hear much.
“What’s next?” Levi said in a whisper. “We dumped him, photos were taken, and the fake video of two men coming in here has been created. When do you want it released, and how soon will it be before someone discovers his body?”
“Soon, but not yet. I’m working on a few more things, and get me some threatening photos and letters fast. I already have a few, nothing real violent though. I need something that will really shake up people when they see it. We’ll release everything, including the video, to the FBI in a few. They’re already prepared to review this stuff and speak to me. Kyle is leading the investigation, so we’re good, if you know what I mean. There will be an intense meeting tomorrow, so be prepared. And do not go far tonight, because I may need you to do something else for me.”
Levi saluted me. “I’m on it, man. I mean, Mr. President.”
I released a light chuckle, even though it caused a hurtful jab to arise in my side.
* * *
It was already late, and things didn’t wrap up in the Oval Office until the wee hours of the morning. The secretary of Homeland Security was there, Levi, FBI, my senior Secret Service agent, two more agents, and Andrew. Everyone had seen the tapes, even though a few of us knew they had been falsely constructed. The cut-up photos of me and violent letters worked well too. I used them as my exhibit while walking everyone through everything that had taken place tonight. Levi was there to fill them in on what transpired when he came into the room. There were plenty of questions and concerns, but the bottom line was, my secretary of Homeland Security, Phillip Bates, knew that he had failed me again.
“After watching that video,” he said, “and hearing details of what happened here tonight, I have no other choice but to resign, sir. It was my duty to keep you safe, but I put together a team that seems unable to do it.”
I didn’t sympathize with him one bit. “I accept your resignation. Please have it on my desk by noon. I will search for your replacement; meanwhile, I have to revamp my entire Secret Service detail so that not only myself, but my family, are protected as well. I’m going to assign Levi as my senior agent, and he will be tasked with finding capable agents who are willing to put their lives on the line to save mine. I reject a meeting tomorrow—don’t have much else to say. I do, however, want to meet every new agent, and I want speci
fic details of what their duties will be.” I looked at Kyle who was leading the FBI’s efforts to quickly get to the bottom of this. “If there is anything else that you need from me, I will fully cooperate. I need speedy action to be taken, and I, along with the American people, will be relieved when those murderers are found.”
“We’re already on it,” he said. “No rest tonight, and we will not sleep until they are caught.”
The meeting was a wrap. We all shook hands, and right after everyone left, I eased into my chair. I carefully removed my suit jacket, and then unbuttoned the top buttons on my shirt. While rubbing my chest, I thought about all that had happened. I predicted that I would soon get numerous calls and visits, especially from Tyler’s family. If I played my cards right, this could turn out to be one of the biggest accomplishments of any president in a long time.
After the meeting was done, I stood outside of Michelle’s loft with my jacket thrown over my shoulder. Levi stood by the elevator, making sure the coast was clear. Michelle opened the door wearing a gold-colored silk robe that revealed her smooth chocolate legs that looked dipped in baby oil. Her thick, natural hair was pulled away from her face and secured with a band. A light gloss was on her lips, and the peachy smell of her fragrance reeled me inside. I had never been to her loft before. It was simple, neat, and nice. Black-and-white photos of her children were on the walls, a microfabric sectional was in the opened living room, and many books were stacked on bookshelves in the corners. A furry rug covered the hardwood floors, and a long kitchen island separated the living room from the kitchen.
“Where are your children?” I asked while standing near the living room.
She placed her finger over her lips. “They’re sleeping. Been asleep since ten o’clock, according to the sitter.”
“Is she here too?”
“No. She left after I got home.”
Michelle took my hand, leading me down a wide hallway to the right. She pointed to pictures on the wall of her children.
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