The Invitation-kindle

by Michael McKinney

  He finds a rejuvenating solace in these quiet moments. Fully cognizant that his decisions could affect the lives of millions, he is humbled by the awesome power, and responsibility of the office he holds. Part of him wonders what more he can do for the welfare of the American people, and the world community in general. The gnawing sense that he can never do enough lingers constantly in the background of his thoughts. He knows his limitations. At the same time there seems to be something that always wells up from some mysterious source within his being, leading him unfailingly through every crises, or challenge he meets, an inchoate sense of something beyond himself pulling him forward, and he has learned long ago to trust it. He believes it has led him to where he is now. He senses something momentous is coming, something he will be an intimate part of, a culmination of all that has come before, something astonishing, and his life will be the instrument of its realization.

  Hours later, and, hundreds of miles to the south, in a small town in north central Florida, morning rouses its inhabitants to another day. One of them is Ron Cushman. Mr. Cushman is retired, and lives a quiet life with his wife Doris. His working life was spent in the realm of politics, serving as a Democratic state representative for twelve years. His skills for consensus building and intelligent compromise were widely acknowledged during his tenure in the Florida legislature. When Ken Myers was elected governor of Florida twelve years ago, Ron Cushman was quickly asked to serve as his Chief of Staff. Holding that post for the entire eight years of Ken Myers’ governorship, he worked closely with Myers, and was a prominent member of the governor’s staff. When Ken Myers moved from the governor’s mansion in Florida to the White House in Washington, Ron Cushman was asked to come along. Instead he chose to retire, moving back to the small town of his childhood, and the quiet life he shares with his wife.

  Today he is expecting a visitor. Mr. Cushman received a phone call last night from FBI agent Tim Colby. Mr. Colby is keen to ask Ron Cushman in person about something that Mr. Cushman mentioned in that phone conversation, having to do with a trip to China that Ken Myers made six years ago when he was governor of Florida. Mr. Colby heard something in that phone conversation that he wants to know more about, that being the fact that Ken Myers may have visited a medical facility while in Beijing.

  Keeping Mr. Cushman in the dark about his questions regarding what Ken Myers did in China, Agent Colby has told Ron Cushman that the FBI is gathering information to build a case against China for trade violations, and intellectual property theft, an ostensible reason that Mr. Cushman has no reason to suspect. As Mr. Cushman, and his wife are finishing their breakfast, Agent Colby’s flight has already left Washington, and is well on its way to Florida.

  Meanwhile, back in Washington, Senator Jack Fields is just arriving at FBI headquarters to be given the strange information about the President. The conservative senator from Oklahoma, generally known as a stalwart opponent of Ken Myers, will shortly be joined by Senator Walter Merrick of Maryland, an ardent supporter of the President. In an attempt to be scrupulously impartial, FBI Director Slaughter has chosen two Senators from opposite ends of the political spectrum, requesting that they come in, and be briefed on what the Director described as a “matter of national importance.” First to arrive is Senator Fields, who is quickly ushered in, and seated by Director Slaughter.

  “Senator Fields, thank you for coming in. Please sit down. Senator I have something very sensitive that I feel compelled to share with members of the senate. To keep things bicameral, I’ve asked one other senator to come in this morning.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Senator Merrick. He should be here any minute. If you’ll bear with me, I like to wait until he gets here”

  “Well, I’m not in the habit of waiting on Democrats, but I’ll make an exception in this case,” Senator Fields says.

  “I appreciate your patience, Senator.”

  “Oh I know about patience. You ever go fishin̓, Mr. Slaughter?”

  “No, I never do.”

  “That’ll teach ya about patience.”

  “Do you fish a lot, Senator Fields?”

  “When I get a chance. Senator Miles, and I went last weekend, did pretty good.”

  A moment later the door swings open. Senator Merrick enters unannounced, and is greeted by Director Slaughter.

  “Senator Merrick, please come in. Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, your secretary told me to come straight in, so-”

  “Absolutely, I’m glad you’re here. Please sit down.”

  Taking his seat, Senator Merrick is surprised to see Senator Fields, who greets him.

  “Morning, Senator Merrick.”

  “Senator Fields, good morning. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “I’m responsible for that, Senator Merrick. I asked both of you to come here this morning for a good reason.”

  “I’m sure it is,” Senator Merrick says.

  “Gentlemen, what I’m going to show you is something that I can’t explain, and it has to do with the President of the United States.”

  Chapter Nine

  As the director of the FBI recounts the cryptic story about the President with all its improbable details to Senators Fields and Merrick, on a small farm in western North Carolina a man is sitting on his front porch waiting for the mail. His name is Todd Keniston, and at thirty-four years old his life has reached a point of personal crises.

  After nine years of marriage his wife has left him, taking their two children with her. The former Marine had just returned home less than a week ago, after an extended tour of duty overseas working as a freelance security contractor. Instead of seeing his family in their home, he was informed several weeks before, in a letter from his wife, of her intention to leave him, and though the news was not entirely unexpected, he never thought she would actually go through with it. But the unnaturally quiet house once alive with activity that now surrounds and engulfs his entire being is a stinging, silent rebuttal. Looking at the swing set in the front yard, he painfully remembers the joyful enthusiasm that filled the air when his children used it for the first time. Everything around him that was once familiar now seems disjointed and out of place.

  Todd Keniston is a man whose life is being pulled in two different directions. Surrounding him are all the physical reminders of the life he had as a husband, and father, a life he is sure he wants back, while at the same time he knows it’s only a matter of time before the phone rings, and he is offered another overseas assignment that he in all likelihood will accept. He sees it simply as his profession, the only profession that he has known in his adult life, albeit a profession that in the end his wife found it impossible to accept. It never occurred to him, or most likely he preferred not to consider the possibility that years of working as a security contractor in foreign countries for extended periods, often under dangerous conditions, was simply not compatible with the psychological and emotional needs of a young family. Telling his wife repeatedly that the next assignment would be his last, until she eventually became convinced that nothing was going to change, the gradual strain on their marriage had finally reached the point of no return. Weeks, months, and years of waiting for a father and husband to return home had taken its toll.

  In an effort to persuade his wife to return, he drove to her parents’ home some thirty miles away, where she now resides. The encounter quickly developed into a heated confrontation, resulting in a restraining order banning him from contact with his wife until further adjudication. Trying to contact his wife by phone or email being unsuccessful, he writes, hoping to receive a letter in return. Going over things in his mind, he searches for answers. From his point of view it was a question of doing what he regarded as his duty, something inculcated in him from an early age.

  Joining the Marine Corps after high school, he served a total of twelve years, and by all accounts acquitted himself well. Todd Keniston is a marksman, and was trained as a sniper. His proficiency with weapons was,
and still is, intrinsic to his core sense of identity. His exceptional ability to operate covertly in dangerous conditions, and his unflinching determination to carry out his orders, brought him to the attention of the upper echelon of the CIA, including its director, Paul Stuart.

  Leaving the military when he was thirty-one, he chose the more lucrative profession of a freelance security contractor, a career change that despite his wife’s objections, he found far more compatible with his temperament and personality. There are certain men who form an acquired taste for the danger and exhilaration of armed conflict, who become quickly inured to operating in places and conditions where weapons and violence are commonplace, and who find the mundane regularity of civilian life vapid and unappealing. Todd Keniston is one of them. In the end, it was not the excessive preoccupation with guns or the extreme political views he often expressed that ruined his marriage. It was the extended absence, the perpetual worry, and the eventual realization that nothing was going to change that caused his wife to finally break away. Sitting on his front porch as if waiting for her return, he sees the mail truck pass by without stopping.

  Back in North Central Florida, Doris Cushman is doing what she does most days, working in her garden, when she sees her local postal truck stop and discharge her mail. With a friendly wave she walks over to collect it, and notices the unfamiliar car slowing down as it approaches her driveway. Moments later the driver emerges to introduce himself.

  “Mrs. Cushman?” he asks.

  “Yes, you must be Mr. Colby.”

  “Yes, Ma’am, Tim Colby. I spoke with your husband on the phone last night.”

  Seeing the visitor’s arrival, Mr. Cushman comes out to greet him.

  “Mr. Colby, I assume.”

  “Mr. Cushman, glad to meet you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Not at all, c’mon in. I’ll tell ya what, let’s sit on the porch. That way we can see my wife’s beautiful flower garden.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “Would you like some iced tea, Mr. Colby?” Mrs. Cushman asks.

  “I’d like that very much Ma’am. Thank you.”

  Moments later Tim Colby and Ron Cushman are comfortably seated. Agent Colby will make sure not to reveal the real reason for interviewing Mr. Cushman. His challenge is to extract relevant information without seeming to, a well-practiced art of experienced investigators.

  “Well, Mr. Cushman, as I mentioned on the phone last night, what I wanted to talk to you today about is the trip to China that Ken Myers made when he was Governor.”

  “I understand,” Mr. Cushman says.

  “As I said, the FBI doesn’t usually get involved in these types of cases, but we were asked to come in, so…”

  “You’re building a case for trade violations, as I understand it.”

  “That’s right. These companies are accused of making counterfeit medical equipment, to sell on the world market. That’s dangerous,” Agent Colby says.

  “Absolutely. Well, I’ll tell you anything I can. I don’t know if it’ll help you or not.”

  “We appreciate that, Mr. Cushman. So let me ask you, since this case involves medical equipment, do you remember if you, or Mr. Myers had contact with anyone in China in the medical industry?”

  “No, I don’t recall any. We were met by a delegation that showed us an auto assembly plant they just built. That was the first day.”

  “Did you go to any plants where medical equipment may have been manufactured?”

  “No I’m sure of that. We were only there for three days. Actually, they were more interested in talking to us about the tourist industry in Florida.”

  “Uh-huh. You say both of you were in China for three days?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Were you with the Governor all three days?”

  “No, I wasn’t. I’d never been to Beijing so the Governor gave me a day off to do some sightseeing.”

  “That was nice. What was the Governor doing when you were sightseeing?”

  “I’m not sure. Wait, you mentioned medical equipment. He did visit a hospital that day.”

  “Are you sure it was a hospital?”

  “That’s what I was told.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “When I came back to the hotel, I asked a clerk, and that’s what I was told.”

  “Do you know how long he stayed?”

  “I don’t know, but I think he was there most of the day. I didn’t see him again until the next morning. So, I don’t know.”

  “Why would he go to a hospital if it wasn’t on the itinerary?”

  “You’re right, it wasn’t. I don’t know. I guess they wanted to show off their technology. Supposedly it was a state of the art medical center. That’s what I was told.”

  “Did Governor Myers ever talk about that visit?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “That’s a little odd. Isn’t it?”

  “Well, I just assumed it was a spur of the moment kind a thing, so I never asked about it.”

  As Tim Colby continues to hear what he regards as possibly explosive information, he is eager to conclude as artfully as he can the interview with Mr. Cushman, and make the quick return flight back to Washington, where his boss, Director Slaughter, is just finishing his presentation to Senators Fields and Merrick, showing them the recording of a young Ken Myers displaying phenomenal reading speed, and also the brain scan images showing a foreign object of unknown origin inexplicably lodged in his brain.

  With that image still visible on the TV screen, the Director of the FBI looks at both senators, and after a silent, incredulous pause from both of them asks, “Well, gentlemen, what do you think?”

  “Are you sure this is real, what you’ve shown us here? Senator Fields asks.

  “I have complete confidence that it is, Senator Fields,” the Director says.

  “̓Cause this is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Director, I have to ask you. Where did these items come from, the recording, and the brain scan?” Senator Merrick asks.

  “The recording was given to us by a man named Phillip Garrett, who was a roommate with Ken Myers when he was in college.”

  “Okay, I know who you’re talkin̓ about. This guy’s a quack.”

  “Who is he? I never heard of him,” says Senator Fields.

  “This guy, up in Connecticut or somewhere,”

  “He lives in Rhode Island,” the Director says.

  “He’s been making ridiculous statements about the President, that he’s not who he claims to be, that he’s some kind of imposter or something. He does the talk show circuit, and I guess makes pretty good money at it,” Senator Merrick says.

  “That’s not true. He hasn’t made any money in connection with this,” Director Slaughter says.

  “He has been discredited, though. Isn’t that right, Mr. Director?”

  “What he’s saying hasn’t been proved or disproved.”

  “Well, how do you know that this recording is not a forgery? Are you saying you just took this guy’s word for it? I mean, it looks to me like somebody’s trying to damage the President here, someone with the technical know-how to pull this off, or at least try to,” Senator Merrick says.

  “Why would someone want to do that?” Senator Fields asks.

  “Why? To undercut the President, to question his credibility, that’s why. Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Senator Merrick, I assure you that what we just saw is not a forgery. Here’s why. We have not only the original recording, we also have the machine it was recorded on. Because of that we are able to do full spectrum analysis of both the recording, and the recording device. The results are conclusive. The recording is pristine. I’d stake my reputation on it.”

  “Well, That’s exactly what you are doing, Director. You are staking your reputation on it, and a lot more than that.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, if the Director of the FBI says it’s
authentic, that’s good enough for me,” Senator Fields says. Pointing to the strange object still visible on the TV screen, he continues: “I’ll tell ya. That’s what concerns me, that thing in his brain, whatever it is.”

  “Well first of all, Director Slaughter, you say this is a brain scan of the President. How do you know that?” Senator Merrick asks.

  “We have complete confidence that it is the brain scan of Kenneth Myers, and no one else. It was taken five years ago,” answers Director Slaughter in a deliberate tone.

  “Then I have to ask you, Mr. Director; how did you gain access to the President’s medical records?” Senator Merrick asks.

  “They were provided to us by an anonymous source, a very reliable anonymous source, who described himself as a concerned citizen.”

  “Well isn’t that convenient? Okay, so, uh, your source is very reliable, and very anonymous. I think a court of law would call that hearsay evidence, Mr. Director.”

  “Senator Merrick, do you honestly think I would call you both in here today if I thought this case was based on hearsay evidence? Look, I can bring our experts in and we can walk you through the process. I can personally assure you that what you’ve seen here today is not a hoax. It’s not an attempt to discredit the President. Beyond that, I don’t know what it is, or what it means. That’s why I asked you both to come in. I’m open to any suggestions you might have as to how to proceed. I have no axe to grind in this.”

  “Well, I think we have to give the President the benefit of the doubt in this. He’s not here to defend himself,” Senator Merrick says.

  “Senator Merrick, I’m not trying to damage the President. I have no hidden agenda here.”

  “There’s no need for you to be defensive, Mr. Slaughter. I believe you’re being very impartial. I don’t know about you Senator Merrick, but I trust the FBI, and its Director, and I trust in the integrity of their methods,” Senator Fields says.