The Invitation-kindle

by Michael McKinney

  “Hi, Nathan.”

  “Hello, Martha. How are ya?”

  “Just fine. Want some coffee?”

  “Please.”

  “Hi, Senator Miles.”

  “Hello, Caitlan, You’re gettin prettier every time I see you. How old are you now?”

  “Fifteen”

  “Well, that means you’re old enough to call me Uncle Nathan from now on. Alright?”

  “Okay.”

  “Caitlan, if you’re gunna ride, you better get goin̓,” Martha says while pouring coffee for Senator Miles.

  “Okay, thank you,” Caitlan says as she exits.

  “Jack, that’s one beautiful granddaughter you have.”

  “Isn’t she, though?”

  “Honey, I’m gunna go check on her. I’ll leave you two alone for a while,” Martha says.

  “It’s good to see ya, Martha.”

  “Good to see you, Nathan. You gunna bring us some fresh trout tomorrow?”

  “I hope so,” he says as Martha leaves.

  “Well, what’s the news in the Senate, Nathan?”

  “Did you hear what Senator Thomas said?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, he’s hoppin̓ mad.”

  “What happened?” asks Senator Fields.

  “Myers is havin̓ the Pentagon go through these exercises. Well, we all thought he would collaborate, at least with the Armed Services Committee…not gunna happen. We find out yesterday he’s already started, no hearings, no input from any committees. When Senator Thomas heard that he went ballistic.”

  “I guess so. That man’s been on the Armed Services Committee for over twenty years,” Senator Fields says.

  “You’d think he’d be shown more respect than that.”

  “What are these exercises for, anyway? Does anybody know?”

  “Myers says it’s to reduce the chances of accidental nuclear war.”

  “Nonsense, the Pentagon doesn’t need him meddling in their business. He’s just playin̓ at Commander in Chief. Hell, he’s not even fifty years old. What’s he know?”

  “And won’t be for another, what? Three or four years.”

  “He’s too inexperienced.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not the worst of it. He’s pushin’ this country down a road it shouldn’t go,” says Senator Fields.

  “He’s not as popular as he thinks he is.”

  “He made a lot of enemies when he shook up Air Force command, puttin’ his own people in.”

  “And for no good reason, none that I could see,” adds Senator Fields.

  “I hear he’s goin̓ down to MacDill next week.”

  “Well you know why. We have Air Force bases all over this country. Why is only goin’ to Florida? Because Florida’s an important electoral state. That’s why. Hell, he’s in full campaign mode.”

  “That’s our President.”

  “Oh, he’s more than that. He’s Robin Hood, Santa Claus, and Superman all wrapped up in one. Yeah we need a new title for him. Just to call him Mr. President doesn’t do him justice,” says Senator Fields.

  “I know. He thinks he hung the moon. Well, we better get used to it. He’s gunna win re-election unless something changes.”

  “I hope it does. Somebody oughta find some dirt on this guy. There must be somethin’ in his past we can use, an extramarital affair, drug use, or somethin.”

  “They tried that already…didn’t work,” says Senator Miles.

  “Well I think he’s dangerous.”

  “He’s certainly a radical.”

  “And that’s dangerous, makin’ all these promises to the people. You can’t run a government that way. People get the notion that government is gunna solve all their problems. It undermines individual responsibility.”

  “You think this energy bill is going to pass?” Senator Miles asks.

  “You mean his latest crusade? I hope not.”

  “It’s got a lot of people worried.”

  “I know.”

  “I had four C.E.O.’s from utility companies in my office last week. They told me if this bill passes they’re gunna start layin’ off workers immediately,” says Senator Fields.

  “I believe it. Myers doesn’t care. He wants to remake this country into what he thinks it should be.”

  “Well, if he thinks that conservatives in Congress are just gunna lay down, and roll over, he’s in for a surprise.”

  “I don’t know. It looks like he has the votes.”

  “I don’t care how many votes he has.… Wouldn’t bother me if he just disappeared.”

  “The country would be a lot better off,” says Senator Miles.

  “He’s gunna give a big speech at the Olympics. Wait, and see. No other President has done that.”

  “Sure, it’s for political advantage. You remember he lobbied hard for the Olympics when he was Governor of Florida. I think he was lookin’ ahead.”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him. I don’t mean him any harm, but I know a lot of people who would like to see ̓him stopped.”

  “Yeah, I’m one of ̓em. Well, we’ll do what we can to slow ̓him down. Come on, Nathan. Let’s see what Martha has on the grill.”

  “Sounds good.”

  As two disgruntled Senators commiserate on what they see as America's final decline, the subject of their discontent remains in the nation’s capital. We find President Myers in the Oval Office, still working the phones, trying to persuade Senators to vote for the impending energy bill. As he hangs up the phone, his secretary pages him.

  “General Croft is here, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Helen, please send him in.”

  Moments later the tall, uniform-clad Secretary of the Air Force enters, and is greeted by his Commander in Chief.

  “General Croft, it’s good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President, it’s good to see you.”

  “Please sit down.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “General, as you know, I’m going to Florida next week. I would like you to come with me.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “With the Olympics getting started, our military will be on high alert. Let me ask you. If we were to see an incursion of our air space, what do you think our response time would be?”

  “Sir, I can assure you we’d have interceptors airborne within minutes.”

  “I’m sure that’s true. If something like that happened, we would need a quick, controlled response.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “That essentially means no breaks in the chain of command.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “There’s likely to be more air traffic during the Olympics. We need to make sure our response to any irregular flight patterns by private aircraft is appropriate. I want to reduce to an absolute minimum any chance of using deadly force, and finding out later it was a mistake.”

  “Our pilots are very well trained, Sir.”

  “I’m sure that’s the case, but in a situation where everyone’s on high alert people might get edgy, and possibly overreact. I’m sure you remember Korean Air Lines flight 007 in 1983.”

  “I do, Sir.”

  “269 people killed because a Russian pilot felt pressured to pull the trigger,”

  “It was a tragedy.”

  “All because a commercial airliner was misidentified.”

  “Our command and control is far more disciplined, Sir.”

  “I want to make sure it stays that way. That’s the message I want you to bring to our base commanders.

  I'll be in Miami for the opening ceremonies at the Olympics. After you talk to our people I want you to be there with me. I don’t intend to stay long. A short speech to welcome everyone, and after that we leave.”

  “Yes, Sir, whatever you say.”

  “I think it would send a convincing signal that we intend to keep the area safe, that we’re on our toes.”

  “Absolutely. I can assure you, Mr. President, you’ll receive comple
te cooperation.”

  “Thank you, General. We’ll be leaving on Thursday the nineteenth. We’re scheduled for ten o'clock. I have a staff meeting around eight, but I should be done on time.”

  “I’ll be ready, Sir.”

  “Good, then I’ll see you on the nineteenth.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Thanks for coming in, General Croft.”

  As both men rise, General Croft smartly salutes his Commander in Chief, and quickly exits. President Myers, standing alone with his thoughts, again hears his secretary’s voice.

  “Sir, Mrs. Myers is here.”

  “Please send her in.”

  The door opens, and moments later husband, and wife affectionately greet each other with the familiar ease of marriage partners. Kenneth Myers first met his wife Carol when he was running for Governor of Florida. After hearing him speak at a campaign rally, she felt compelled to volunteer in his election effort. They were married one year after he won that campaign. His two successful terms in that office provided valuable experience for a politician with national ambitions, and for Carol, the years spent at the Governor’s mansion groomed her as well for things to come. The poise and self-confidence she shows as First Lady is largely due to the skills she learned during this period. Their loving and mutual support for each other has not only brought them closer, but has furthered the President’s political popularity as well. Together they are an effective team. Though separated by eleven years difference in age, their interests, temperament, and personalities seem to naturally complement each other.

  For her part, Carol is a woman of exceptional qualities. Beyond her beauty and intelligence, she possesses an almost uncanny aptitude for the politically sensitive role of First Lady. Giving her time and effort to numerous charitable causes, she has garnered the respect of millions of Americans. Active and committed as she is, her chief concern is to support by all reasonable means the success of her husband’s political agenda. If there is one aspect of her life she could change however, it would be the addition of children. Yet, she fully accepts that other priorities must take precedence, at least for now. Knowing her husband is preoccupied with the responsibilities, and consuming details of his office, she takes care to conceal her feelings on the subject.

  When schedules permit, Carol will sometimes visit briefly, to see how he’s doing. She greets her husband with a familial kiss.

  “Hi, honey.”

  “Hi, Carol, How’s your day going?”

  “I’m okay. I should be asking you that question. Your day’s more important than mine.”

  “Both are important. How did your appointment go this morning?”

  “The doctor says I’m fine…I don’t know.”

  “Carol, I know you want children. So do I. We’ll keep trying.”

  “We can wait. You have so much else to consider,” she says.

  “Let’s do this. After the Olympics we’ll take a three day weekend, and get away for a while.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “The press says I don’t take enough time off.”

  “I don’t know where you get your energy.”

  “Well, it comes from being a happily married man.”

  “Are you ever lost for words?” Carol asks.

  “Only happened once.”

  “When was that?”

  “Why, when I first looked at you, dear.”

  “You’re incredible. Well, I don’t want to keep you. Oh, I’m going to see your mother on Thursday.”

  “I know, I called her last night. She’ll be glad to see you.”

  “I wish she would come live with us,” Carol says.

  “So do I, but she loves her independence, and her privacy, too.”

  “I can understand that. Well, I’ll leave you to your work. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “What do you have for this afternoon?”

  “I have that public service announcement for the Healthy Kids Initiative.”

  “How long will that take?”

  “Not long, maybe an hour.”

  “That’s good. We’ll have a nice dinner tonight.”

  “What time?” Carol asks.

  “About six thirty, I think.”

  “Sounds good, I’ll see ya then. Bye-bye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  With a parting kiss, Carol leaves her husband to his responsibilities, while she tends to her own scheduled obligations. After more than three years of living at the White House, and being at the center of political power, Carol has become familiar with the established routine of activity that now surrounds her daily life. Despite the seemingly unending demands on her time, and attention that she must regularly cope with, Carol has never felt so fully alive, or more convinced that her life, and work were meaningful, and worthwhile. Confident that her husband will win another term in office, she is optimistic for herself, her husband, and the country at large.

  Chapter Three

  In a quiet suburb of Providence, Rhode Island, Phillip Garrett is having breakfast with his wife and twelve-year-old daughter. His occupation as a freelance photographer enables him to maintain a flexible work schedule, but work is not what he’s thinking about today.

  He’s expecting a visitor this morning, a visitor from the FBI. We find him, his wife, and daughter readying themselves for another day. Not surprisingly, the subject of their conversation is what they might look to expect from the agent sent to interview him.

  “Want some more coffee?” Phillip’s wife asks.

  “No thanks.”

  “Aren’t you nervous? I would be,” she says.

  “Nothing to be nervous about. Actually, I’m glad to do this.”

  “It’s kind of what you wanted,” she says.

  “That’s right. Finally somebody’s taking me seriously. Once my statement’s on the record, I’ll be satisfied that I did all I could.”

  “I hope so,” she says.

  “I’m ready, Mom.”

  “Did you get enough to eat Ashley?” Phillip asks his daughter.

  “Yes Dad.”

  “Two things you should never skimp on. Breakfast is one of them, and?” cues Phillip.

  “I know, a good night’s sleep,” answers Ashley.

  “That’s right, or there’s no point in going to school,” he says.

  “Well, we better get going,” says Phillip’s wife, as the doorbell rings.

  “That’s probably him.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Well, we’re going, so I’ll let him in.”

  “Okay.”

  “Come on, Ashley, You don’t want to be late for school.”

  Rising to go she kisses Phillip, and says, “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Bye, Dad.”

  “Bye, Ashley. Have a good day at school.”

  Moments later he hears his wife greeting the expected visitor, and a few seconds later she presents him.

  “This is my husband.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  “Thank you, Honey. Drive carefully,” Phillip says to his wife as she exits. He turns toward his guest. “Mr. Colby, you made it.”

  “I did. Mr. Garrett, it’s good to meet you, Sir.”

  “Please sit down.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  As Phillip pours coffee, Agent Colby begins.

  “Mr. Garrett, I’m here today simply to hear what you have to say. When we talked on the phone, I assured you that you wouldn’t have to worry about any possibility of self-incrimination, and I want to repeat that. Nothing you say here today will ever be used against you.”

  “Mr. Colby, I’m a lawyer. You know I don’t believe that. It doesn’t matter. I’m not worried about incriminating myself.”

  “Why did you stop practicing law? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “I was an in-house corporate attorney for almost
fifteen years, the kind of job that law school graduates dream about. I made a lot of money. New owners came in, and I was asked to do certain things that I thought were unethical, so I quit. I became a freelance photographer. I don’t make as much money, but I’m a lot happier. But you didn’t come here to talk about my photographs.”

  “No, I didn’t, Mr. Garrett, although I wish you success in that venture.”

  “Thank you. Shall we start then?”

  “Sure. Where, and when did you first meet Ken Myers?”

  “I met him when we were freshman at Princeton. That was some twenty-six years ago. We shared a small apartment for almost three months.”

  “Were you friends?”

  “I’d say so. We were on a first-name basis, so, yes.”

  “Please go on.”

  “I thought it was odd, how little he seemed to sleep. He would stay up at night reading his books. I don’t mean the way you, and I read books. He was a speed reader. I mean a phenomenal speed reader. One night I saw him read three college text books in less than two hours, but it`s the way he was doing it that was so strange.”

  “How’s that?”

  “His physical action was so automated. I never once saw him yawn, even though he was up half the night with his books.”

  “Maybe he was just extra diligent when it came to studying.”

  “He wasn’t studying. Studying is when you grapple with something you’re trying to understand. What Myers was doing was effortless. He was comprehending the material as quickly as he read it, and that was at very rapid speed. He was like a machine or something.”

  “Did he know that you were observing him?”

  “No”

  “Did he have any other friends you knew about?”

  “None that I was aware of, and he never wanted to go out with any of us, to a football game, or a party, not even on weekends. He was essentially a loner.”

  “Let me ask you. From the time you knew him at Princeton, what is the one thing you remember most about Ken Myers?”

  “That’s easy. There was another student whose parents lived about a two-hour drive away. His name was Mike Tanner. Once or twice a month he would drive to his parents’ house, and stay for the weekend. One time he asked me to go with him. I was glad to get away for a weekend. When he came to pick me up, Ken was there, so I introduced him. As soon as he looked at Mike Tanner his expression changed.”