It was 12:45 when Lizzie parked her car at her favorite dry cleaners. She reached behind her for her cleaning bag and walked into the shop, knowing full well someone was watching her. She’d been bringing her clothes to Tillie and Leroy Chen since the day she’d settled in Washington. Over the years, she’d handled their legal work, bringing elderly family members to America. There was nothing Tillie and Leroy wouldn’t do for Lizzie. She knew the couple would let her into the small back room that was used as a mini office so she could call Cosmo without anyone listening to her conversation. They’d even bring her tea and rice cakes before they closed the door for her privacy. Tillie and Leroy Chen were what Lizzie called good, honest people.
Lizzie was greeted warmly and immediately ushered into the small back office. Rice cakes, tea, and a cell phone appeared as if by magic; then the door was closed quietly. Lizzie sighed, thankful that Tillie had immediately picked up on her need for some privacy.
“Hi, Cricket,” Lizzie said by way of greeting. “Just dropped off my cleaning, and I’m having tea with the Chens. It’s snowing out again. What’s the weather like in Vegas? Cold is good.” She laughed, the tinkling sound Cosmo Cricket so loved. “Aside from just wanting to hear your voice, I want to give you a heads-up. The president has asked me to pull all of Global Securities’ contracts and hand them over to her private secretary, which I will do when I get back to the office. You might want to alert Hank. This is as much as I can tell you. Once I touch those files, I cannot and will not be able to talk about them. It’s that old devil attorney-client privilege. Now, tell me how much you miss me and how you love me more than I love you so we can argue.” Lizzie listened to the voice on the other end of the phone, and her world turned right side up. She smiled, she laughed, she grinned, and then she blew kisses into the phone before she broke the connection.
Lizzie wished Maggie was with her so she could eat the rice cakes and drink the tea, but since she wasn’t, she scarfed them down, not wanting to hurt the Chens’ feelings. She slipped a hundred-dollar bill under her teacup because the Chens would never accept payment for cleaning her clothing. She closed the door quietly behind her to find Tillie Chen waiting for her, with her cleaning hung neatly in plastic bags. They bowed to one another without a word spoken.
Thirty-five minutes later Lizzie was back in the White House, with a little sack of honeyed rice cakes, which she turned over to Tobias Daniels, who thanked her profusely for the snack. She knew without a doubt that someone would check the dry-cleaning bags, but there would be no sign her car had been invaded when she climbed in for her return home at five o’clock.
Now, how best to find those pesky Global Securities files?
Chapter 9
“We look like a bunch of bedraggled cats caught in a rainstorm,” Annie said sourly as she poured from the third pot of coffee. “Charles has been gone for three days, and we haven’t heard a thing. It’s the weekend, the sun is shining, and the snow is melting. I think we all need to put on our happy faces and do something. If none of you can come up with something constructive, then we need to adjourn to the pole.”
That statement grabbed everyone’s attention. The Sisters all started jabbering at once.
“Just because we’ve heard nothing of importance doesn’t mean we can’t make plans. We’re coming up to the second week in January, and Lizzie has been on the job as chief White House counsel for a whole week now. But we all know her thoughts are elsewhere at the moment, which means we need to work on our own strategy as far as our pardons are concerned,” Myra said briskly. “Let’s bundle up and go over to the command center and see what we can come up with.”
Jackets and boots on, the Sisters were at the door when they heard the sound of the cable car sliding into its nest. The dogs in the lead, they all ran outside to greet Charles.
“I’m hungry,” Charles said by way of greeting as he hugged his wife.
They all trooped back to the dining hall, where Annie set out fruit, muffins, and sausages and made fresh coffee. The rule was, they never talked business until a meal was finished. With one meaningful look from Myra, Charles wolfed down his food in record time.
“Where did you go, and what if anything did you accomplish?” Nikki asked.
“I went to Pennsylvania, ladies. To a little-known place that was once known as Lord’s Valley but is currently called Jellicoe Valley. The man who resides there is named Henry Jellicoe, Hank to his friends. Hank used to handle the security for Myra’s candy company, until I took over. It was all a long time ago, but Hank and I remained friends. Hank is now Global Securities. What that means is, he provides top-notch security for American-based companies all over the world. He represents a few foreign enterprises also. He has a five-star reputation.
“I went to see him because of Lizzie, to see what could be done to guarantee her seat on the Supreme Court if she’s nominated. If Lizzie wants the position, I think I can almost, and I say almost, guarantee the appointment is hers. But bear in mind there are no guarantees in this life that she will be voted in. What we have going in our favor is that word has not yet leaked out, so that gives Hank and us, and by us, I mean you ladies and Maggie, along with the Post, time to help things along when needed.
“I was at the foot of the mountain when I got a call from Hank. It seems he has a source in the White House, an aide to the president, who passed along something none of us want to hear. It seems the president has been working on your pardons, and the files have been on her desk in the Oval Office for some time. The source says he checks them from time to time. Yesterday afternoon the president had a meeting with her top advisors, and it did not go well as far as the pardons are concerned. Every single advisor in the room, as well as the national security advisor, voted no. The files are no longer on the president’s desk but are now in a drawer.” Charles winced at the collective intake of breath around the table. He waited to see if there would be a verbal outburst, but there was none forthcoming.
He went on. “It is Hank’s and my opinion that the president was doing her best where the pardons are concerned. Now, however, we surmise that she thinks that the Lizzie appointment will appease all of you, and you won’t do anything to ruin it. It’s like putting the egg before the chicken, because had the president not heard from Justice Leonard first, what would she have done about the pardons? She could, of course, stomp her foot on everyone’s neck and just issue them and take the blowback. Or she’s going to listen to all those advisors and let you all hang out to dry, thinking Lizzie is more important. A stall for time is how Hank and I are looking at it at this moment in time.”
Annie stood up, her expression fierce. “Charles, that scenario simply does not work for me. I have plans for my life, and that includes the pardon President Connor promised, and I have no intention of having those plans thwarted. Are we clear on the matter?” Ice dripped from her words.
Charles allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. “I’m very clear on the matter, Annie. It’s the president who isn’t on our wavelength.”
“Then I suggest we do something about it,” Myra snapped. “And the sooner the better.”
“Hear! Hear!” the Sisters shouted in unison.
“Before you arrived, Charles, we were on our way to the command center to work out a plan to do just that,” Annie said. “We are more than willing to work Lizzie into our plan so that whatever we come up with works for her as well as for us.” She walked over to the door and pulled on her boots and her down jacket. “Time is money, girls!”
The Sisters hustled, Charles bringing up the rear.
Ten minutes later the Sisters were settled but grumbling, Kathryn’s voice the loudest. “I feel like chewing nails and spitting rust. The president damn well promised us a pardon. She’s reneging and allowing her advisors to call the shots when she has all the power. If we were a priority, our pardons wouldn’t be sitting in her desk drawer, now would they?” Kathryn took a deep breath and rushed on. “Next we
ek the pardons will be moved out of the desk drawer to a file cabinet, and the week after that, the file cabinet will be moved to the basement, never to see the light of day again. This is unacceptable!”
Murphy and Grady growled at the same time, their hackles rising at the fury in Kathryn’s voice. Kathryn reached down to stroke the big shepherd’s head. He calmed almost immediately.
Grady sidled over to Alexis, who said, “Kathryn is right. It is unacceptable, and it sucks. If there is one thing I hate, it’s a liar. The president lied to us. After all we did for her. I, for one, appreciate what she’s trying to do for Lizzie, but that does not let her off the hook with the pardons. It’s apples and oranges.”
“So then, what we’re saying here is, we want to take on the White House and the president as well, is that it?” Nikki asked. She sounded calm, as though she were discussing plans for an afternoon stroll in the park.
“Then I suggest we sit down and set up a working plan, with the full knowledge that if things don’t pan out, we’ll be spending the rest of our lives in a federal prison,” Isabelle said. Her tone and voice sounded like she was following through on Nikki’s plans for that afternoon stroll.
Yoko was more succinct. “Then let’s do it!”
Charles swiped his hand across his stubbly chin. He should have shaved, he thought, but everyone was so anxious to get down to business, he didn’t have the heart to delay his explanations. “Let me make sure I understand what all of you are thinking. You plan to invade the White House and what? Just walk out with your pardons? Is that what you’re saying?”
“That’s exactly what we’re saying. If we write it down on paper, will reading it in black and white make a difference to you?” Annie demanded.
Charles smiled, recognizing the challenge Annie had just presented. “Then I say we sit down and get to work. But first, a favor, if you don’t mind. I’d like to take a shower and shave first. I will need thirty minutes. When I return, I will have coffee for all of us. In the meantime, feel free to, uh…bat some ideas around until I get back.”
The room was totally silent until Murphy and Grady barked, the signal that Charles was out of the building.
“Are we out of our minds?” Myra asked.
“Even if we are, who will notice?” Annie said. “Why are you all looking at me like that? You think we can’t invade the White House and walk out with our new lives? I am suddenly embarrassed to admit I know all of you.”
“Annie, waltzing into the White House is not like tripping into Wal-Mart,” Alexis squeaked. “I’m all for it if we can come up with a foolproof plan for our getaway.”
“Darling girl, we won’t need a getaway if we have the pardons in hand,” Myra said sweetly.
The others stared at their fearless leader, their eyes wide, their jaws slack and agape.
“What about Lizzie?” Nikki asked.
“I think Lizzie’s future is in good hands, and I really don’t see what we could do to help her, anyway. Considering our current situation, that is. In the end, trying to help her might do her more harm than good if it ever comes out that we were involved,” Kathryn said.
“By the same token, we cannot do anything that will interfere with the process to confirm Lizzie once it goes public,” Yoko said. “We agreed that Lizzie comes first.”
“Yes, dear, we did agree to that, and there is no reason why we can’t multitask, is there? I’m sure we’re more than capable of creating diversions if need be. We’re women. Remember that,” Myra said.
“All we need is that foolproof plan,” Annie said.
“That’s not as easy as it sounds, dear,” Myra observed.
“This is what we have going for us at the moment. Us, now, not Lizzie. We have Maggie and the Post. In itself, the Post is a very powerful weapon. We have Jack, Harry, Bert, Ted, and Espinosa. We also have a few others that we’ve more or less deputized. Nellie, Elias, Pearl, Rena Gold, and Paula Woodley, Cosmo possibly, and Fish. I don’t know how any of them can be incorporated into whatever plans we come up with, but there you have it. And ourselves and Charles, of course,” Nikki said. Nikki stood back to view all she had written on the huge chalkboard.
“Diversions, dear,” Myra said.
“Secret Service,” Yoko said. “It should be noted that Harry has contacts all over the world who are as versed in martial arts as he is. I am speaking only of the top tier. They would love nothing more than for Harry to request their help. The Secret Service is no match for Harry and his colleagues.” She smiled.
“How sure are you on that?” Kathryn asked skeptically.
“I am one hundred percent certain that Harry and his colleagues can render the agents helpless at the White House. All of them. What I cannot guarantee is how they can get inside. That’s our job. If we can get them in, then it’s all over.” Yoko smiled again.
Kathryn thought it an evil smile. Then she laughed. “That’s good enough for me. We’ll need time to get Harry’s people here.”
“All it takes is one phone call or one e-mail. Harry’s friends will be on the first available flight,” Yoko said.
Nikki added Yoko’s information to the list just as Charles entered the room and took his place behind the bank of computers. He looked over at the chalkboard, processed what was written. He nodded. “You forgot Avery Snowden and our people. And don’t forget Maggie’s computer guru.”
Nikki scribbled furiously. “Anyone else we can count on?” When there was no comment, she dusted the chalk from her hands and took her seat.
Charles walked over to the chalkboard and said, “This is what we have to work with. At the moment. Hank Jellicoe has promised us help if we need it.” He wrote the name Hank at the bottom of Nikki’s list. “Hank can give us the agents’ positions, the shift changes, the command center, how to dismantle it, or at the very least render it inoperable, in whatever time is allowed. He and his people excel at high-tech malfunctions. He is also a familiar face at the White House and has served three presidents, including Martine. He will not arouse any suspicion with his frequent trips in and out of the White House.”
“Now all we need is a legitimate reason to appear at the White House. Is there such a thing as a public schedule?” Annie asked. “Festivities? Movie stars appear from time to time and require security. Baseball figures. Connor is a Pittsburgh Pirates fan. Maybe something along the lines of an invitation before the season starts.”
“Maybe Lizzie can put a bee in Connor’s bonnet if she can make it sound like good PR. But I’m thinking anything she comes up with will be suspect now since the pardons are in the desk drawer rather than on the desk. I know Lizzie and the president are friends, but when it comes to survival, in this case, the administration’s, you look out for number one. I don’t trust her. The president, not Lizzie. Lizzie I would trust with my life,” Kathryn said.
“What goes on in the spring at the White House? We should start there,” Alexis said.
“Cherry Blossom Festival. Several Japanese contingents arrive annually, since the Japanese are the ones who donated the trees along the Tidal Basin,” Myra said.
“Valentine’s Day.”
“Saint Patrick’s Day.”
“April fifteenth, tax day.”
“May first, or May Day, with a maypole. Memorial Day.”
“That’s too long to wait and plan for. We want this over and done with as soon as possible. The big question is, do we move before or after they announce Lizzie’s nomination?” Annie queried.
A ripe discussion followed, but no concrete decision was forthcoming.
“Let’s just get our ducks all in a row, decide what we want to happen at the White House, then make it happen. With the Post in our corner, Maggie has the power to put pressure on the White House to create an event,” Myra said.
“I have an idea. Let’s call all our people and host a get-together for next weekend. We can’t assume everyone will be on board. We need to confirm it all,” Kathryn said.
The Sisters gave a rousing cheer of approval of Kathryn’s suggestion.
“Take care of it, ladies,” Charles said.
Chapter 10
The streets of Georgetown were dimly lit from the sodium-vapor lampposts. No one was walking a dog; no lone pedestrians were meandering about. There were no cars to speak of on the roads. Nothing unusual, since it was 3:10 in the morning.
Harry Wong was wide awake in the backseat of the taxi that was taking him to Jack Emery’s house in Georgetown. As he stared out the window, he did see dim yellow lights shining indoors at some of the houses. There were many porch lights, probably on timers, that winked and went totally dark at some preset hour. Jack’s house was one of those. As the taxi pulled to the curb, Jack’s front light flickered and went out. Harry leaned forward, paid the driver, and got out of the taxi. He leaped over a pile of snow on the curb and landed on the sidewalk, which was free of snow.
Always alert, even in the wee hours of the morning, Harry looked around to see if he could pick up on some infinitesimal sound. The night was quiet. Even the sound of the taxi’s engine had faded as the driver turned the corner, his red taillights glowing in the dark night. Satisfied that nothing, not even a stray dog or cat, was going to interfere with his late-night visit, Harry made his way up the front steps and rang the doorbell. He waited, knowing that Jack was a sound sleeper. He rang it a second time, waited a few seconds, then lifted his foot and kicked in the door. He shrugged when a high-pitched shriek of sound permeated the air. He could see Jack outlined in the dim foyer light, his hair on end, gun in hand.
Game Over Page 7
