The Peace Maker

by Michele Chynoweth

  Leif turned to go but was stopped by Ray’s last words.

  “You’re a great leader, Leif. God chose well. You’ll make a fine president.”

  Leif turned to question his mentor about his last comment but was left in puzzled silence, noticing the wise old politician had already fallen asleep.

  Still unsettled by his visit with Wendy and reeling from feelings of grief, anger, and betrayal, Leif decided to turn to his best friend for support, despite the fact that the same man was also his worst enemy’s son.

  He showed up unannounced in Jordan’s office at the Smithsonian an hour later.

  Jordan was bent over the paperwork that blanketed his desk in “The Castle,” the historic red brick building that used to be the sole Smithsonian museum when it was founded in 1846 but now served as visitor’s center and headquarters to the world’s largest museum complex. Leif walked into his office after clearing his way through security and two secretaries.

  “This is a nice surprise!” Jordan threw down a sheaf of papers, stood, and came around his desk to hug his best friend.

  Despite all of the bad news and grief he had just been dealt, Leif smiled. “Thanks. I missed you.”

  “Congratulations on all of your hard work over in the Middle East. Thanks to you I can sleep a little better at night. Sit down.” Jordan motioned for Leif to have a seat in the sitting room that was adjacent to his spacious office while he poured some coffee for them both.

  “I was just doing what your father asked me to do.” Leif watched Jordan’s face to see his reaction to his words. A quick frown etched the president’s son’s features, but Jordan remained quiet as he brought over two mugs and sat them down on an immense coffee table littered with magazines and newspapers. “I just came from seeing your sister. My wife. Or should I say soon-to-be ex-wife and mother of my child who never had a chance to be born.” Leif couldn’t help the bitterness from seeping into his voice.

  “Leif, I’m so sorry.” Jordan was sincere, his voice cracking.

  “You know I didn’t have an affair, don’t you?” Jordan nodded and Leif continued. “So what have I done that’s so awful that your father not only had our baby killed but wants to kill me as well?”

  “Whoa, back up a minute. What do you mean ‘had your baby killed’? I thought Wendy had a miscarriage.”

  “Then you don’t know about the abortion?”

  “Wendy had an abortion?” Jordan sounded truly incredulous.

  “Not only did she have an abortion, her own father—your father—talked her into having it after showing her pictures he had his hired hands take while I was in Israel; photos that made it look like I was having an affair. But it was all a setup. He actually encouraged her to kill our baby and then sign divorce papers. No wonder she ended up in that mental hospital. I thought you knew….”

  “I knew about Wendy losing the baby. And I knew she wanted the divorce because she thought you were cheating on her. I didn’t really believe mom and dad when they told me you had an affair. I’ve been meaning to call and ask you all about it but they asked me not to contact you out of loyalty to my sister. But I had no idea that my father….”

  His words trailed off. Leif assured Jordan that he had confirmed everything but that the news had not gone beyond their immediate family since the doctors were sworn to secrecy at the risk of losing their careers.

  After hearing his friend out, Jordan stood up in a daze. It took him a few moments to find his voice. “This is just horrible!” He shook his head, still trying to comprehend what Leif had just told him. “I know he’s always been jealous of you, but this is really insane. Even if what Wendy says is true, I can’t believe that he wants to actually murder you.”

  “Will you help me find out?”

  “Obviously my father doesn’t tell me anything anymore, now that he knows you and I are friends. But I’ll help you any way I can.”

  “Okay, I think I have a plan….”

  Leif had already been scheduled many months ago as one of the entertainers invited once again to perform that night at “A Capitol Fourth,” the annual Fourth of July celebration in Washington DC televised on PBS.

  Despite all that occurred, the president had not rescinded the invitation, nor had Leif declined, and the country rock star’s photo had already been plastered over all of the online promotional sites and marketing materials.

  A small, private dinner was planned before the concert and fireworks to be held in the Family Dining Room off the State Dining Room just for the Greene family, a few close friends and dignitaries.

  The evening arrived, plans intact.

  The White House butler made an announcement that dinner was to be served and everyone took their seats. It wasn’t until then that Martin Greene noticed an empty chair across from him between Jordan and Victoria. Wendy, of course, was still ill and would not be attending.

  The president glared at his son but kept his voice to a casual whisper. “Where is Leif?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Dad, he can’t make it tonight. He’s with his family in Kentucky for an emergency on the horse farm. He asked me to tell you he’s very sorry and he hopes you’ll understand.”

  “And why am I just finding out about this now?” Martin asked the question with a forced smile, his eyes gleaming with anger.

  “It was last-minute; he just told me where he was headed a few hours ago. I didn’t get a chance to tell you before now.”

  “Son, as soon as dinner is finished, you will meet me in the Green Room to discuss this.” The president smiled and stood to make an announcement, cutting off the chatter around him.

  “Jordan just informed me that, unfortunately, my son-in-law Leif Mitchell won’t be able to join us tonight for dinner or the concert due to a family emergency back in Kentucky.” A series of disappointed gasps and grumblings ensued. “But not to worry, we have many great performers lined up, not to mention our wonderful fireworks display, and I know you will all have a fabulous evening. Enjoy.”

  As soon as dinner was finished and the Greene family had bid farewell to their guests, Martin met Jordan, who was waiting for him in the White House Green Room.

  The president ominously closed the main door behind him, and the two men faced each other in the middle of the small, dimly lit parlor.

  Martin’s words came out low, seething with rage. “I know you’re lying, son. Where is Leif?”

  “I told you, Dad. He’s with his family. He said something about one of their best horses being in trouble. You know how he feels about those horses.”

  Martin started to slowly, menacingly walk toward his son, who stood about ten feet away, closing the gap between them. His voice was still low and filled with scorn. “How could you stay friends with him, Jordan, knowing how he’s betrayed our family?”

  “What has he done wrong, Dad?”

  Martin’s voice started to rise with contempt. “What has he done wrong? He got your sister pregnant and then when he was in Israel he had an affair!”

  “I don’t believe he had an affair. I think you set him up. What I don’t get is why you hate him so much. You’re the one who brought him to DC and into the family in the first place.”

  “Why you little ungrateful brat! You don’t know how conniving he is. How he’s out to take away my presidency. I know things you don’t know. My sources have told me that Leif Mitchell is going to try to sabotage my candidacy and then run in my place. I trusted him, and now he’s out to stab me in the back and ruin this country. He swore he’d be loyal to me and he lied. He’s a traitor and has no loyalty to this family, to me or to you. I’m sure one day he might threaten your chance at the presidency too. Your allegiance is to the wrong side, son. Leif Mitchell has got to be stopped. It’s the only way to keep him from committing treason. Of course, now he’s ruined everything tonight.”

  Jordan looked at his father warily. “Why are you so angry he isn’t here tonight? I know it’s a little embarrassing, but you’ve had worse happen
. It’s not like you don’t have enough entertainers, plus the fireworks, right? And everyone still believes he and Wendy are together but that she’s still recuperating from an illness, right?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. What do you mean he has to be stopped?”

  Martin wandered over to the window facing the South Lawn, which had a good view of the fireworks and the National Mall, where thousands were already starting to gather for the concert at the Capitol. There was a telescope set up in the window, and Martin looked into the viewfinder for a moment and then waved Jordan over.

  ”Come here. There’s something I want you to see.”

  Jordan walked over and looked into the telescope. Through the powerful magnification of the instrument he saw the concert stage, which was lit up and now had a crew of engineers and sound-check people scurrying back and forth checking band equipment, microphones, lights, and wiring. It was about an hour until show time.

  He lifted his head and turned toward his father, confused. “So?”

  “Let’s just say I had something special planned for Leif before he would have even walked onto that stage. And I had a ringside seat through this baby.” Martin patted the telescope, smiling wickedly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I didn’t know better I’d swear you weren’t my son.” Martin growled, turning to face the window again and lowering his voice, a quiet menace in his tone. “You can’t see them, but there are special agents out there who were ready to take care of my pesky ex-son-in-law.”

  Jordan listened with his mouth open, speechless.

  “Now you see why I’m so disappointed your friend Leif couldn’t join us tonight.” Martin was actually half smiling. “No one would have heard a thing with the fireworks. With this crowd and all that’s going on out there, it would have looked at first like he was passing out. And then with all the chaos…it was the perfect plan. But I’ll find another way.”

  “Not if I report you.”

  “It will be your word against mine, son. I don’t think you want to go there.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened with fear for his friend. “Are you crazy? You have really gone off the deep end, Dad! Leif has done nothing to deserve this. He told me everything—including the fact that Wendy didn’t have a miscarriage but an abortion—which you talked her into getting!”

  “Why, you little punk!” Martin landed his fist into his son’s face. Jordan reeled backward into the telescope and both crashed to the floor. Martin looked down on his son. “You are a no-good, worthless mama’s boy who never amounted to anything. That you would choose this greedy, back-stabbing, evil cowboy singer over me…this selfish nobody who pretends to be a politician but is really out to get all of us…you disgust me. You are not my son.”

  Martin turned and walked out of the room, leaving Jordan lying there, his mouth bleeding and tears running down his cheeks.

  Jordan sniffed and tried to gain control of his emotions. He grabbed onto the desk and got to his feet, still rubbing his jaw and wiping the blood from his mouth. He went to stand at the window, which looked like it was on fire, glowing red from the fireworks that burst in the sky just yards away. He picked up the phone and dialed.

  Leif was still at Little River when Jordan’s call came.

  “I hate to say it but your plan worked. I got the truth. Dad got really angry when he found out you weren’t going to be at dinner. You were right. He was planning to have you…killed.” Jordan rubbed his bruised jaw. “I just had no idea my father was this consumed with jealousy and hatred, this insane. I’m really sorry. What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I can hide from him. I do have a state to run.”

  Jordan was silent for a minute before an idea struck him and he thought it out loud. “I think you should run against him.”

  “For president? Now I think you’ve gone a little nuts.”

  “Well, you know I’ve never had the desire to follow in his footsteps. And he can’t win a second term. Not with all we know that he’s done. Even if it would never get out, which is next to impossible, we know how sick and crazy he’s become. He can’t run his household much less the country.”

  Now Leif was quiet for a minute before responding. “I’ll think about it on one condition.”

  “What?”

  “If I decide to run, and get far enough that I get on the ballot, you’ll be my running mate and run for vice president.”

  “I’m honored that you would even ask, Leif, but I don’t know…I have no experience, no track record.…”

  “True…plus it would completely push your father over the edge I guess. As much as he’s hurt me, I don’t want to be responsible for that.”

  “I think he’s standing right at the edge now. I don’t think it matters what we do at this point. It’s like he’s lost all sense of morality or reason, all touch with reality, and lost touch with God. I almost believe that Satan has taken over his soul. I believe this country needs someone who has faith in God, who has a spiritual vision as well as a political one. America needs you as its next president.”

  Jordan heard footsteps approaching. “Look, I’ve got to go. Call me tomorrow and let me know what you’re going to do.”

  Leif spent the night at Little River in his old bedroom. Before he went to bed, he took a stroll through the stalls to spend time with the horses stabled there. After he gave them all treats of carrot and apple pieces and talked to each one, rubbing their soft muzzles, he sat down to strum on his old acoustic guitar, which he had left behind at the ranch.

  He sat on a bale of hay at the end of the barn and mindlessly strummed a few chords. It was his favorite way to meditate and think about what was ailing him that day. He almost always found a solution by listening to the still, small voice within, which he believed was God talking.

  It usually helped if he did some praying first. And singing was his favorite form of prayer. He softly sang to the horses:

  “Lead me, God, lead me on, down the path of truth,

  I can’t seem to find my own way,

  Life is hard, and I feel that I can’t go on,

  Please lead me, God, today.”

  Leif sat back, listening to the horses pawing and neighing, and the silence of the night. One horse whinnied louder and more distinctively than the rest. Leif smiled and walked down the long line of stalls until he reached Little Sally’s.

  “I didn’t forget you girl,” he said, stroking her white streaked forehead. “It’s just that I have a lot on my mind.” He talked to her like he would an old friend. “I’m not sure what I should do. I made a deal with Martin Greene that I would remain loyal to him if he gave me his blessing to marry Wendy. But now it all seems to have fallen apart anyway. Still, how will it look if I run for president against my own father-in-law—or even ex-father-in-law? Of course, when the people find out all he’s done…but no one will probably believe even half of this crazy mess. I just don’t know…” He looked into the mare’s wise, big brown eyes and could almost swear he could see compassion, perhaps even an answer there.

  “Thanks Sal.” Leif realized—not for the first time—that God even spoke through horses sometimes.

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  PART II

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  CHAPTER 11

  Ray Silas died in his sleep of a massive stroke on a mild, mid-October evening in his home in Alexandria. Although he died peacefully and without fanfare, his funeral would be one to be remembered.

  Not only was the former US congressman, Speaker of the House, senator, and current Republican National Committee chairman going to lie in state in the rotunda of the Capitol in DC—a rare honor granted over time to less than three dozen federal officeholders, including eleven presidents—Raymond Silas was going to have a state funeral at the Washington National Cathedral, where he would be serenaded with an elegy by national recording star Leif Mitchell and eulogized
by none other than President of the United States Martin Greene.

  The church, of course, would be overflowing, and anyone who didn’t want to get stuck in hours of traffic was warned by news stations to stay off the roads in downtown Washington DC until late in the afternoon. Ray Silas had been a man long revered and loved, and in addition to his family and friends, his political “family” and followers numbered in the thousands.

  In attendance would be Ray’s two brothers and two sisters and their families. His parents had died many years ago, having conceived children in their later years. His mother had prayed to God for many years and had finally had her prayers answered beyond her wildest dreams when Raymond was born.

  No one knew whether his two sons would show up or not. Ray Silas had had such high hopes for them when they had each passed the bar and become judges, one in Maryland’s district court and one in the same state’s circuit court. He had almost used his political power to help his oldest son become appointed to the US Supreme Court. But an investigation showed Silas’s oldest son had been involved in accepting bribes, and he was subsequently disbarred. Son number two was suspected of some shady dealings as well, although they had never been proven, and ended up leaving the bar quietly for a job on Wall Street.

  Neither would ever become half the man their father had been even if they lived to be twice his age. It had caused Ray a lot of anguish over the years, but he had finally given up on the thought of his sons following in his footsteps. He had turned his attention to mentoring and helping more godly men who were more worthy of his support.

  Ray had, of course, never sought out Martin Greene as the candidate for president since he had been naturally in line for the job as the current vice president. He had always had misgivings that Martin might not be the best man for the job. But since fate was already in play, Ray had had little choice but to give Martin Greene his full endorsement and support.

  He had chosen Leif, on the other hand, both to run for governor and to be a part of his funeral. And unlike Martin, who was expected to speak as president, Ray had asked Leif a long time ago, before he had even known he was dying, to participate in his funeral service by singing.