Presidential Shift
Page 14
“That means dinner’s ready,” Zimmer said, rolling his eyes at the throwback to royal service.
The warriors didn’t need to be told twice. Drinks in hand, they followed the vice president to the dining room.
+++
“Sir, we’ve tracked down two of Jamison’s accomplices. Looks like they were going to make another try at the first lady’s brunch this morning,” informed the Secret Service agent.
“Do you have them in custody yet?”
“We have teams deployed, sir. Should be in our hands soon.”
“Any word on who they are?”
“Yes, sir. We believe the mastermind is a gentlemen named Evans Carlisle. He’s suspected to be the head of a white brotherhood network, sort of a connector. The other suspect is his right hand. We don’t have all his information yet.”
“Motive?”
The agent looked uncomfortable. “Our guys think it’s in line with what Jamison said to you.”
“So it’s all because of race?”
The agent shrugged.
“Okay. Thanks, Lou. Tell me when you have the suspects in custody.”
“Yes, sir.”
The president sat back in his chair and sighed, wondering if the issue of race would ever be resolved. He’d changed. His views had shifted along with his focus as president. Why couldn’t others do the same?
+++
Two Secret Service Emergency Response Teams (ERTs) descended on the wooded complex nestled in the modest Vienna, VA suburb. Multiple K9 units accompanied the raid, as well as members of the Counter Sniper Unit. They weren’t taking any chances. Local law enforcement was not informed.
Minutes after entering the two-story residence, agents positively identified the bodies of Evans Carlisle and Nicholas Rindle. The bodies were tested and death had been estimated six to eight hours earlier. In addition to the bodies, files and maps were discovered detailing the entire scheme, along with additional event details gleaned from the first lady’s schedule, allegedly supplied by Special Agent Jamison.
Chapter 34
The White House
8:40am, December 21st
“Thanks for stopping by, Cal. I know you’ve got a flight this morning.”
“Not a problem, Mr. President. I’ve got time. How’s the family?”
“They’re coping.”
“And the first lady?”
“She’s tough. A few scrapes won’t keep her down. Hell, sometimes I think she’s tougher that me.”
“It sounds like the Secret Service has things wrapped up,” said Cal, preferring to talk business.
“Looks like it. They think this Carlisle guy,” the president waved a folder, “and his pal took their own lives when they knew they couldn’t get away. Same thing happened up in Minnesota. Tracked the guys down only to find him with a gun in his mouth. He pulled the trigger just as the police busted in.”
“That’s too bad. I hope you get the whole story before this is over.”
The president nodded. He looked tired. Not tired — weary. Weary of the weight on his shoulders. Cal swore the man looked grayer than he had a day before.
“Anything I can do for you before we leave, sir?” Cal asked, shaking the president from his thoughts.
“You’ve done more than I could’ve asked. Please thank your men for me. Maybe I’ll stop by the next time I’m in Nashville.”
Cal couldn’t believe himself, and yet he said, “I think they’d like that, sir.”
“And you?” the president asked, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting used to you politicians.”
Both men shared a laugh, each considering the unlikely alliance between stubborn Marine and a Democrat president.
“Well, I should be going.”
“Yes, do you need a ride?”
“I’ll take a cab, sir. More inconspicuous.”
They said their goodbyes and the president led Cal to the gate, agents flowing around silently. Cal slipped into the taxi cab and waved as they headed to Reagan International.
+++
“Hey, I’m on my way to the airport.”
“Cal.” Neil, hesitated, something he never did.
“What is it?”
“I found out where the calls were coming from. It wasn’t Jamison.”
“Tell me.”
+++
The president took a hitched breath and opened the master bedroom door. Cal and Dr. Higgins followed.
The first lady, wearing a pearl silk nightgown, arm strapped in a sling, sat at her vanity, applying makeup. She scowled slightly when she noticed the extra guests.
“Is everything okay, honey?” she asked sweetly, suddenly unperturbed by the company. Awkwardly, she continued with her eyeliner.
“Why did you do it?” asked the president, quietly.
“Do what?”
The president shook his head. “All those people. Our children. You put them in danger.”
The first lady slowly put her eyeliner pencil on the table and turned to face her husband. She rose to her feet, scowling.
“What do you think you know?”
“We know it was you behind the attacks. Why? Why would you do something like this?” the president’s words came out haltingly.
Her face morphed, angry, sinister. “Who told you? Was it him? Was it Cal the fucking Marine? You’d believe him over me?”
The president’s head snapped up at the hate in his wife’s voice. “That’s enough. We have all the proof we need. Cut the show and tell me why.”
The first lady smiled smugly. “You think you’re the smart one in this family? You think you know how to run a country? Ha! You’d be nothing without me! Do you know how many things I did to get you in office, to keep you in office?”
The president’s face paled.
“Oh, don’t looked so shocked, honey. While you were off on your hope and change kick, looking good for the cameras, I was in the background, doing the deals you’ve always said you were too good for. You have no fucking idea!”
Shaking his head, trying to understand the stranger standing in front of him, the president asked, “How did you do it? Why would a man like Carlisle—.”
“Why would he do it? Are you kidding? He’s the worst kind of racist. All I had to do was some digging and find out who hated me the most. There are whole websites dedicated to seeing my head cut off, so I used it. I used my enemy as my ally. He never knew I was behind it, and neither did Jamison. I bet you didn’t know about his past, did you?”
“How did you?”
“Let’s just say I used my assets. Even a racist can’t say no to the president’s wife,” she said lasciviously.
“I…I don’t know you anymore.” The president looked like he was about to fall over. Cal gave an arm to steady him. The president took it, his head hanging.
“Oh, please. I did this for us, for you. Do you know where our poll numbers will go when news of white supremacists trying to kill the black first lady gets out? They’ll change the Constitution, give you a third term, in a landslide!”
The president’s head rose slowly. He looked back at Cal, the pain causing his eyes to look like marbles in a deep pit. “We’ll take care of it, sir. You don’t need to be here,” said Cal, truly sad for the president.
The leader of the free world, now brought to his knees, nodded and stumbled to the door.
“What are you going to do, kill me?”
“No, ma’am.” Cal closed the gap as the first lady raised her good arm protectively. The Marine grabbed her wrist, forcing the arm down, using his other hand to get a grip on the first lady’s neck. “Doc.”
Dr. Higgins, portly and normally congenial, extracted a syringe from his tweed coat pocket, taking off the safety cap. “Hold her still, Calvin.”
The first lady’s eyes bulged. “What are you doing?! NO! NO!”
In the hallway, the president went to his knees, sobbing u
ncontrollably.
Chapter 35
Camp Spartan, Arrington, TN
10:29am, December 22nd
Cal invited Don Maynor to visit SSI, promising to show him around Nashville as thanks for helping with the recent operation. Maynor didn’t need much coercion. He readily agreed and had flown to Nashville with the rest of the team.
They all sat in the lodge’s spacious lounge, enjoying a much-needed drink, swapping stories, waiting for the news conference. Cal hadn’t planned on watching, having already put their latest excursion behind him. It had been incredible, but to the battle-hardened warrior, it was just another operation.
The only reason he’d decided to have the president’s address on was because the president had called early that morning, requesting Cal to tune in.
“I can’t do much in the way of a public thanks, but I’ll do what I can,” the president had said.
So Cal had gathered up the crew who’d been in D.C., along with Travis, MSgt Trent, Marge Haines, Todd Dunn and Dr. Higgins. Cal chuckled at the endless back-and-forth between the near seven foot Trent and the five-foot-nothing Gaucho. Half the room was in stitches at their ribbing.
“Here he is,” someone announced, as the president appeared on the large television screen, stepping up to the podium. To Cal’s trained eye, the man looked older. How could you blame him? He’d lost his wife twice in one day. Behind him, Vice President Zimmer stood stoically.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming at such short notice. Before I start, I would like to say that I will not be taking questions today.” There were murmurs from the gallery. The media honeymoon had come and gone since the president’s first term, replaced by prearranged questions and less access for reporters. “I have prepared a few words that I hope will shed light on recent events. First, I would like to thank the members of local law enforcement and our federal agents who assisted in the investigations into the attacks here in the capitol and in Alabama. Also, I send my thoughts and prayers, along with the rest of America, to those who lost loved ones. We are with you and will not rest until each and every criminal is brought to justice for these heinous acts. There are also some unsung heroes, who I wish I could mention by name, but who played a pivotal role in bringing closure to the investigation. I know you’re watching, and I say, from the bottom of my heart, you are heroes, and will always hold a special place in my heart.”
The president paused, looking down from the camera. His shoulders seemed to sag a bit as he continued. “A few of you know by now that last night, my wife, the first lady, suffered a severe stroke. I am being told by the best doctors that she will not regain normal function. She is, essentially, alive, but in a vegetative state.”
This was news to the assemblage, as evidenced by questions being shouted at the podium. The only information previously released from the White House had been that the first lady was taken in for some kind of minor seizure, reportedly something she’d had since childhood. This was a revelation. It was shocking. More than one intrepid reporter found tears in their eyes.
The president raised a weary hand for silence.
“As you can imagine, the loss of a loved one is debilitating. It hurts you to your core. I…I don’t know what I’ll do without my beautiful wife…my girls…my…”
The hushed silence was punctuated by the repeated clicks from photographers, the whir of the small fans lining the stuffy room.
With a handkerchief pulled from his pocket, the president wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry. As you can imagine, it’s been a rough night.” No one said a word. Everyone waited for more. Would there be more? The president coughed into his hand, squared his shoulders, and looked directly into the camera. “Due to my wife’s condition, its effect on my daughters, and myself…effective immediately, I resign my position as President of the United States.” Gasps from the crowd. “Also effective immediately, the next President of the United States, a man I trust and admire, is Brandon Zimmer.”
Every camera in the room zoomed in on the shocked face of now-President Brandon Zimmer, who mutely shook his predecessor’s hand until the former president walked behind the curtain.
Cal stared up at the television. “Holy crap.”
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35