Enemy In the Room

by Parker Hudson

  Kristen awoke early that morning in California. Making as little noise as possible, she brewed a pot of coffee and fixed a bowl of yogurt. She was afraid to turn on the television. So she read and then turned on her cell phone to retrieve messages from her home voice mail.

  Ten minutes later her cell phone rang, and in the quiet of Callie’s home, it startled her. She quickly answered it, talking low.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Kristen. It’s Janet Sullivan.”

  “Oh, hi. It’s great to hear your voice. I’m talking low because Callie is still asleep. How are you?”

  “Fine. Has any of what we talked about been useful to you with her?”

  “I thought so last night, ‘til I blew it. I came on too strongly about the consequences of adult movies, and I guess I offended her—and her boyfriend.”

  “I understand. For now it’ll be hard for her to accept that she’s hurting not only herself, but others.”

  “Yes, well, anyway, I’ll just be me and hope that it makes a difference.”

  “You will. And I may have some good news. Or at least I want to ask you a question, and it’s about this same subject.”

  “What?”

  “Bradley Fuller, the President’s domestic policy advisor, called me yesterday. He knew from the press conference that you and I had a connection at USNet, but he didn’t know that you were no longer there. He was calling to ask your take on a proposal from Trevor Knox to accept the President’s media reform package. To try that out on you and to see if it sounds plausible or not.”

  “Boy, that would be a change—a big change. Nothing I saw or heard would indicate that. But, trust me, Knox can change his policies and actions on a dime. Why would he do it?”

  “Bradley’s contact indicated that Knox is just tired of fighting. And he wants President Harper to attend the grand opening of USNet’s new office in Moscow when the President visits President Temirov this summer.”

  “Oh. Well I can confirm that we’re moving our Russian operation to new offices in Moscow. I keep using ‘our’! David was over there a month ago looking at space. So that much sounds right.”

  “Good.”

  “But I’ll have to check on the other. It’s been a week since I was there, and Knox can change policies in a lot less time than that.”

  “How could you check?”

  “I’ll just call David. We haven’t spoken since he fired me. He’s probably got at least a couple of deal questions he needs help on. And he should know if something is going on.”

  “Well, if you could, Bradley would really appreciate it. They’re apparently inclined to accept the offer—to recognize successful business and trade between the countries—but they know Knox’s reputation on this subject, and they’d like a little comfort that what he’s saying is real.”

  “Sure. I’ll call David in a little while. Should I just call you back?”

  “That’ll be fine. Let us know what you find out.”

  “I will. And, again, Janet, thank you for all that you’ve done for me. I can’t ever thank you enough.”

  “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  As Kristen flipped her phone closed, she was startled by a shadow behind her at the window, and then there was a key in the front door. A moment later Callie came in, her hair a mess, still wearing the same low-cut dress from the night before.

  “Oh, hi,” Callie said, smiling with bloodshot eyes. “You’re up early.”

  Instantly the apartment smelled of last night’s hops and sweat.

  “Hey. Not really. I thought you were in your room, and I’ve been trying to be quiet.”

  Callie laughed. “Sorry.” Then she grabbed her head. “Whoa!” She bent over for a moment. Straightening up, she looked at Kristen. “Let me get some aspirin and a couple of hours sleep, and we’ll go out shopping. Probably not all the way to Orange County. Maybe The Beverly Center.”

  “Callie, I don’t think…”

  “Oh sure. It’s not a problem. We do it all the time. Well, Alex does. He’s still at our friend’s house—on the floor.” She started walking upstairs to her bedroom. “See you in two hours. We’ll make it to the stores in plenty of time.” And she closed her door.

  Kristen turned and sat again on the sofa. I’ve certainly done a great job with Callie. Maybe I ought to just leave now. After a few minutes she slipped to her knees and prayed.

  When Todd arrived at USNet that afternoon, he knocked at David’s open door and asked, “Want to grab some coffee in a few minutes?”

  “Yeah. Sure. I’d like to hear about Kansas City.”

  “There’s a great opportunity for telecom space in an old brewery that’s going to be a mixed-use development.”

  “Good. Whatever you and Cheryl think. Maybe she can join us. Let me return a couple of calls, and we’ll go.”

  Todd turned to go, but David spoke again. “Hey, look at this report I got in the mail. It says that we should assume that all of our emails and all of our cell phone calls are being intercepted and read.”

  David held out the report, and Todd took it. After flipping through the pages, he said, “Seems plausible to me. I’ve wondered for years whether someone was doing this, and the report seems to verify it.”

  “Yes. I’m glad you said that, because I’ve also wondered, but I didn’t want to appear to be crazy or paranoid.”

  Todd smiled. “We may never know, but it can’t hurt to act like it’s true. I guess we could use land lines as much as possible. Emails are tougher, but presumably there is encryption that we could get, at least between each other. And then be more careful with what we put in emails to others.”

  “I think I’ll mention it at our next group meeting. And I also wonder about overseas. I’m trying to help my family members still living in Tehran, and I wonder what their government does to gain information.”

  “I would think that they’re doing some kind of interception for sure. And maybe they have the capability to listen to our calls here.”

  David frowned. “Well, thanks. I’ll ask Akbar Kamali, who runs our IT security, to look into this whole area for us.”

  Todd smiled and handed the report back to David. “Great. I really think you should.” He turned. “Let me know when you’re ready for coffee.”

  David turned to his computer and wrote a few emails. Maybe there is something to that report. How would we know? Could that be what has happened to Omid? He found himself adjusting the words he used, and asked two vendors to call him at the office, rather than spelling out his plans. When he stood to head for Todd’s office, his phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “David, hi. It’s Kristen.”

  He smiled. “Kristen! How are you?”

  “I’m fine, David. How are you?”

  “Uh, OK. We’re OK. Where are you?”

  “I’m in California. Actually, I’m calling you from Callie’s apartment.”

  “Sounds like you’re on a cell phone.”

  “Yes. Mine.”

  “Listen, can I call you right back?”

  “Sure.”

  “OK. Just stay there, and I’ll give you a call.”

  David walked over and closed his door, then called Callie’s apartment from his office phone. “It’s me.”

  “Oh, hi. I was expecting you on my cell.”

  “How are you? And why are you at Callie’s?”

  “I’m fine. I just came to visit her on my way to San Francisco.”

  He paused. “How is she?”

  “She’s…well, she’s asleep right now. We talked some last night.”

  “And is there any change?”

  “I’m afraid not. We actually talked about their movies. She’s proud of her acting in that area, or at least she seems to be.”

  David was silent, the visions of his daughter replaying in his head.

  “David, isn’t it a little bizarre that you fired me for opposing what you hate your daughter doing?”

&nbs
p; After a pause, he said, “Yes. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that you are still trying to help Callie—and us—after what happened. Thank you. But one is business and one is personal.”

  “Really?”

  “Look, Kristen, we’ve been through this. I’m sorry for both things—you and Callie. But I had to let you go if I’m going to stay at USNet.”

  She paused. “Listen, David, I thought I ought to call and find out if you need my help on any of my old projects? Anything I can clarify?”

  “Yes, actually. It would be good if you could call Todd. He’s handling Capital Tower, and we’re waiting to meet with the owners, maybe this week.”

  “Still no word on Porter?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll call Todd later. And, listen, David, I’ve got one for you. I’ve heard that Trevor Knox has invited President Harper to the grand opening in Moscow and has offered to stop fighting the entertainment reforms if the President will join him.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “The proverbial little bird told me. Is it true?”

  “Well, I just heard about it yesterday—from Paul Burke—and we have a meeting this afternoon to plan for it, in case the President accepts Trevor’s offer. I asked Paul the same question, and he says it’s real.”

  “If the new law were really implemented, Callie would have to quit, ‘til she’s twenty-one.”

  “Yes, I know. That’s a great encouragement to me now, and I hope it’s true.”

  “So you think the invitation and offer are real?”

  “From what I know at this point, yes. But why are you asking?”

  “Actually, Janet Sullivan—the Congresswoman—called because someone in the White House called her, looking for insight. They didn’t know that I’d ‘resigned to pursue other interests.’”

  “Hm.”

  “I told Janet that I’d call you and ask. So I appreciate it, and I’ll let her know that it seems legit.”

  “It does.”

  “David, could you call me if you get wind of anything different? Our input might help the meeting go forward, and I don’t want to cause Janet or the President any embarrassment.”

  “Uh, sure, I guess so. I’ll know more later today.”

  “OK…well, let’s just keep this conversation between us, and I’ll report that it seems fine. Will you go over there again if the meeting happens?”

  “Probably.”

  “It should be interesting to meet the President.”

  “Yes, I’m looking forward to it. And please do what you can for Callie.”

  “I am, David. When she wakes up, we’re supposed to go shopping. I’ve been praying for her.”

  For the first time David reacted positively to Kristen’s statement about prayer for his daughter. “Thank you. We need all the help we can get.”

  “David, when someone is this hooked on something—like these movies, or drugs, or alcohol—prayer is about the only thing that offers real hope. Breaking this kind of addiction is not like making a New Year’s resolution to avoid cookies after dinner. This is very serious, and very powerful.”

  “I know, I know, Kristen. Or I guess I’m beginning to realize it.”

  “Well, I’ll pray and do what I can. I feel like until she has an experience that brings her up short, like I did with Richard, she’ll just keep living all the lies that society and our company—I mean your company—tell her. That everything is wonderful and there are no victims or consequences.”

  “I wish. Kristen…thank you. I don’t know where you get your strength or your insights, but I appreciate them.”

  “Anytime you want to know, David, I’ll be glad to tell you.”

  “I think I know what you’ll say, but not now. Thanks. And I’m really glad you called.”

  A moment later he headed for Todd’s office and the break room for that cup of coffee.

  Two hours later David was in Paul Burke’s office, gathered around his conference table with five other key USNet managers, brainstorming the possible visit by President Harper to their new Moscow headquarters in little more than a month. Included was a security consultant with former ties to the Secret Service and experience in working with them on public events.

  He was concluding, “I’ve worked some in Russia, starting with the Goodwill Games, and I can say that their security forces are generally very good and very professional. Since you’ve invited both Presidents, our Secret Service will work hand in glove with the Russians. They’ll have the final say on everything, but I can give you a good sense of what to expect and what not to propose. What does the facility look like?”

  All eyes turned to David, who produced some pictures of the grounds and the interior. “There are several two-to five-story buildings in the walled-in complex, which spans the entire width of one large block, overlooked by these taller apartment buildings across the adjoining streets. In this first building inside the gate we have our new office space—one open floor on each of the ground and second floors—backing up to this old factory shop, where we expect to do assembly of the software packages once we go into full production.”

  He passed copies of the photos to his colleagues around the table. “Since the second floor has a higher ceiling, I thought we might set up a small raised platform there to act as a stage and let the ribbon cutting and speeches go on against this back wall adjoining the assembly area, so guests and reporters can easily tour that space as well.”

  The consultant looked at the photos and listened to David. “That all sounds pretty reasonable. There’s no real rocket science to this, just thoroughness. The Secret Service will want to run background checks on everyone invited, so you should put together your list pretty quickly. They’ll have to rely on the Russians to check their invitees, but,” he added and smiled, “with their old KGB files, they’re really pretty quick, and very good.

  “They’ll have a sniper posted on these tall apartment building roofs. They’ll check the sewers for bombs, and an hour or so before the Presidents are due to arrive, they’ll send dogs around the complex and inside the building, sniffing for explosives. I see that there are two gates giving access, so at the last minute they might reroute the limousine carrying the Presidents to avoid too much predictability, but that will be up to them. At this point I think you should begin working on your guest list, including who will cater the event, and get a set of building plans for the Secret Service to review. Otherwise, it looks like they ought to be pretty pleased with what you’ve planned.”

  David asked Paul Burke, “What time of day are we talking about?”

  “We’ve left the time, and even the exact day, up to the White House. We presume that it will be on Monday, the Fourth, which of course is not a holiday there, and maybe in the afternoon. We’ve pointed out that the site is just a mile or two south of the Kremlin, so they could even make the visit as a sort of ‘break’ from other discussions or negotiations. We’ll wait and see.”

  It was almost noon when Callie emerged from her bedroom in a long T-shirt that stretched to her knees. Her hair was a mess and her face puffy; she needed a shower. She smiled at Kristen, who was reading on the sofa. As she walked to the refrigerator she rubbed her head and said, a little sheepishly, “Well, the good thing is that I got an email that we don’t have class this afternoon. So we have time to grab some lunch and go downtown.”

  Kristen closed the book but stayed on the sofa. “That would be good, Callie. I really appreciate your help.”

  Pouring herself some orange juice at the counter, Callie said, “Sure. No problem.” She turned toward Kristen. “Listen, I’m sorry about last night—and this morning. I didn’t mean to say all that. I…I’m sorry.”

  Kristen smiled and put her book on the coffee table. “That’s OK. Really. We all say things sometimes that we later wish we hadn’t.” She stood up and walked toward the kitchen. “That OJ looks good. Can I have some, too?”

  “Sure.” Callie turned an
d reached for another glass.

  “And I’m sorry that I came on so strong about your movies. Maybe I’ve just seen a little more of the end result than you have.”

  “Maybe. But it actually seems pretty cool to me.”

  “Things like that often do, at first.” She smiled and put her hand up as Callie started to speak. “Hey—let’s not go down that road again. I agree that we have differences. I heard you, and I think you heard me. Is that OK? Truce?”

  Callie thought for a second and smiled, nodding her head. “Yes. Truce. Here, we’ll drink some orange juice to it.”

  They clinked their glasses and took a long sip. Callie spoke. “Now I’ve got to get ready so we can hit the stores.”

  “Callie, listen, I think I’m imposing on you, so I changed my reservation and I’m leaving for San Francisco at six tonight.”

  Callie seemed genuinely agitated. “Oh, please don’t. I’m sorry that I got upset last night. I did think about it, and I believe you about coming here for real and not for my father.” She looked down at the glass in her hands. “I wish you would stay a few more days.”

  “Well, thank you, but I don’t do wild parties too well any more. Really. It’s fine. I like you a lot, I’m glad we talked, and I’ll come back again some day if you’ll have me. But for now, it’s probably better that I go. So let’s have a great lunch, and you can drop me at the airport, or a taxi, and get back to your studying.”

  Callie put her glass in the sink and nodded. “OK. But I hope you’ll come back. I liked talking with you, even though I sort of freaked out. I never had a sister, and I guess this is kind of how it would be to have one.”

  Kristen smiled. “I never had a sister either. So, get dressed, and I’ll pack my suitcase. We have some serious shopping to do.”

  24

  SUNDAY, JUNE 5TH

  Early on the following Sunday evening, David and Elizabeth were sitting in shorts and casual shirts on their patio, salmon cooking on the grill.

  “It’s nice tonight,” Elizabeth remarked, taking a sip from her glass. “Not too hot or muggy.”