Harrison pondered the whereabouts of President Ashton and why Mentor did not offer the slightest hint of the circumstances surrounding her disappearance. He closed his eyes and tried to rest for a few minutes more. The beauty of Hannah eased into his consciousness. Her haunting image in the inner windmills of his mind always brought an engaging smile to his face. Harrison realized that he nodded off when he was awakened by the cab driver’s gentle shaking. “Sir. Sir! We’re at the White House, sir.” The voice registered slowly and Harrison wiped his eyes. He stepped out the cab and paid his fare. He also gave a generous tip for the driver’s trouble. Harrison walked up to the first of several guard sites that would clear his way into the White House. He produced his identity card at the guard’s request. The guard appeared satisfied that the photo and physical characteristics matched the man standing before him. “You are clear to enter, Mr. Rossetti” said the guard. The identity card was returned to Harrison as he walked through the outer checkpoint. He entered a side entrance of the White House and approached a second guard. Harrison again produced his identity card and was cleared through the secondary checkpoint.
Harrison approached one of several White House elevators. The lift operator smiled and asked, “What floor, sir?” Harrison smiled in return and requested, “Third floor, please.” The operator pressed the mechanical buttons and the elevator lifted upward. Within moments, Harrison stepped off onto the third floor. He headed toward the deliberation room down the long hallway. He entered the conference room and sat at his designated seat identified by the customary nameplates placed on the conference table. Harrison glanced around the room and noted that no security council members were present, only a handful of selected government agents. Harrison nodded in response to his colleagues that made eye contact with him. He observed that four top seats remained unclaimed. The President’s chair at the head of the table was empty as Harrison expected. Three other seats remained empty: Mentor and those of his two fallen colleagues whose fate he himself escaped earlier in the day. He checked his watch and noted that time had passed for the start of the meeting. A late starting time was unusual for conferences headed by Mentor in the absence of the President. As he waited, Harrison reminded himself of Mentor’s warning to not question anything that he saw or heard at the meeting. It was a peculiar request for Mentor who often sought and welcomed his input and expertise. It bothered him somewhat that he did not know what was behind Mentor’s unique appeal.
Harrison noted a quieting in the room as Mentor made his appearance. The man with a heavy weight on his shoulders nodded to the men and women gathered in the room. Mentor made eye contact with Hardware and gazed unflinching at his colleague and friend. Harrison saw a disturbance in his supervisor’s eyes, something rarely seen given the asserted personality of the man.
Mentor sat at his designated seat next to the empty chair of the President. He did not speak. Mentor gazed straight ahead perhaps deliberately avoiding any eye contact with his agents. As time ticked away, an eerie silence clouded the room. One literally could hear a pin drop. Harrison’s anticipation grew as he hoped to gain information about the circumstances surrounding the disappearance of Software. He also wondered what his role might be in investigating the President’s whereabouts and helping to bring to justice those involved in her kidnapping.
Ten more minutes passed since Mentor entered the conference room. The creaking of the conference room door unexpectedly broke the eerie silence. Harrison wondered who was entering the room, but before he completed his thought, his colleagues began standing around him. Harrison also stood although he was unaware why until he turned around to see who entered the room. To Harrison’s confusion and perhaps more to his disbelief, he made eye contact with the President of the United States, Elizabeth Ashton.
Chapter 10
Confusion Would Be an Improvement!
Harrison shook his head as if the mere act in and of itself would visually clear the image before him. President Ashton was reported as ‘disappeared,’ assumed kidnapped. Yet, unless Harrison’s eyes deceived him, the President was neither seized nor detained. His attention turned to Mentor as the President made her way to the seat at the head of the conference table.
The confusion on Harrison’s face was apparent to Mentor. For his part, Harrison stared intensely at his superior with the facade that undoubtedly did not hide a thousand questions. Yet, he knew that no questions would be entertained and no answers forthcoming—at least for the moment. Harrison continued to stare at Mentor as he attempted to fight an underlying sense of friendly betrayal that was ripening in the pit of his stomach. Mentor sat motionlessly as he returned his stare to Hardware perhaps fighting his own sense of betrayal. ‘How could Mentor not tell me that the President was alive and well?’ thought Harrison. ‘He must have had his reasons’ entertained Harrison absorbed in self-thought…‘or perhaps Mentor was caught off guard just like I was’ he reasoned. Harrison soon developed a sense of uncomfortableness with his feelings. He knew Mentor for a long time, too long to be knowingly misled.
Mentor had guessed correctly his friend’s uncertainty to the unfolding events. He knew that Hardware felt betrayed that he was not informed fully of the situation, particularly following the briefing between the two men just a few hours ago. Mentor concluded correctly that Harrison was quite shocked to be in the presence of the President whose whereabouts were supposedly unknown.
Both men turned their gaze from each other to President Ashton as she called the meeting to order. The wooden gavel echoed sharply as it struck the surface of the highly polished walnut conference table. The hum around the table diminished as the President again used her gavel to call the meeting to order. Then, silence shrouded the deliberation room.
President Ashton began the meeting somberly and said, “Good evening.” A quiet chorus of “good evenings” echoed from around the room. The President continued tersely, “I won’t waste your time. Domestic attacks against our government have increased markedly over the past five years displacing priority concerns about the risk of foreign insertions. Much like our war on drugs, our campaign to curb domestic terrorism is falling short of its objectives. We cannot continue our present course and survive as a democratic government. It is time to review our current objectives…” President Ashton paused and scanned the steely eyes of her agents. She then said affirmatively, “No, it is time to scrap our failed approach at counteracting domestic terrorism…” she paused briefly…“and implement a bold plan that seeks to reach a compromise with some of the more tenable ideals of our country’s ‘dissidents.”
Eyebrows raised and facial impressions winced around the conference room. A low murmur could be heard. Harrison glanced toward Mentor perhaps seeking his superior’s affirmation of what President Ashton was proposing. Mentor returned no such acknowledgment and turned his gaze away. Harrison was left to his own thoughts. ‘Was the President suggesting that the government capitulate with domestic terrorists?’
Harrison’s thoughts returned to President Ashton as her gavel smacked against the conference table three times. Then she said in mockery, “Good. I can see we are all in agreement.” The President eyed carefully each of the individuals gathered at the table perhaps making some attempt at assessing the impact of her words. She particularly paused at Mentor and Hardware as if these two men could somehow make or break her yet unspoken plan.
In an effort to bolster reassurance, President Ashton clarified, “I don’t mean that we ‘give in’ to domestic terrorism. Yet, it’s clear that we cannot continue our present course without some compromise. We are not only losing the battle, but we are about to lose the war as well. The cost of homegrown terrorism has increased steadily by 10 percent each year in the past five years. Such a cost to people, property and financial resources are now unacceptable!” President Ashton paused. She banged the table with her left fist and reiterated simultaneously, “Unacceptable!” President Ashton shook as the emotions of her guileless stance literall
y drained from her face for everybody to witness. She paused briefly once again and said more softly, almost in a whisper, “Unacceptable!”
All agents’ eyes were focused on the President. What transferred to this moment did little to clarify the confusion experienced by Harrison. His gaze shifted once again to Mentor, but there was no recognition this time. Harrison turned his attention back to the President who began outlining her plan for ‘compromise’ with extreme factions and homegrown terrorism.
President Ashton asserted, “The incidents at Waco, Ruby Ridge, Lizton Fields, Oklahoma Federal Building, Elmore Fams, Shepard Hills, Cumberland Elms…” The President paused and shook her head in disgust before she continued, “So many others that have impacted upon not only their intended yet innocent victims, but all peoples of these United States of America. I will not let this shameful chapter in our history continue and cast its dark shadow over my administration. We can no longer afford to turn a deaf ear to people who have grown weary of the integrity and effectiveness of our government. Our inability to hear beyond the rhetoric of dissidents has paralyzed us and limited our response to a singular retaliatory stance. And where has this stance gotten us?”
President Ashton paused and scrutinized each agent once again to assess her impact on the audience before her. She focused on Mentor more so than any other agent in the room. Such attention did not go unnoticed by Harrison. He wondered whether Mentor was aware of the content of the President’s speech even before she spoke. If so, why was Harrison left out in the cold? He has known Mentor for a long time, long enough to know that Mentor would have difficulty supporting any plan that might undermine the government of the United States and allow extreme factions to gain a vital foothold in America.
Harrison’s attention returned once more to President Ashton as she continued her view on placating domestic terrorism: “What I’m proposing is a ten-step plan which I will specify for you now.” The President paused briefly to sip some water from her glass. The agents at the conference also took a similar opportunity by filling their glasses. As the sounds of clanking glassware diminished, President Ashton started detailing her ten-point plan to assimilate domestic terrorism into American politics:
“Step one: Review prison cases and release those dissident terrorists in federal prison whose crimes do not include direct acts of violence against the people of the United States;
Step two: Provide financial compensation to these individuals for time loss on the job and emotional reparation;
Step three: Discontinue federal wiretaps on suspected terrorists where there is no direct, concrete evidence of intention to commit a crime despite a positive past history of such crimes;
Step four: Direct the FBI and IRS to no longer use their strong arms in investigating individuals just because their views differ from our government’s stance;
Step five: Develop a moderated committee whose membership includes people appointed because of their distinct dissident views to provide input to governmental activities, funding and law;
Step six: Arrange that such a committee is solely responsible and reportable to the President;
Step seven: Allow for equal access time in all broadcasting media, particularly during federal, state and local elections;
Step eight: Provide guidelines and sensitivity training to all branches of law enforcement in their exchanges with our country’s dissident terrorists;
Step nine: Provide guidelines to local governments on how to develop and maintain open forums so that varying viewpoints can be heard, documented and implemented; and lastly,
Step ten: Reinitiate efforts to support vigorously the right of law-abiding American citizens to carry arms as provided in our Constitution.”
As the President finished outlining her platform, the silence was deafening in the room. One could not only hear a pin drop, but a feather as well. Agents in the room stole glances at each other, but said nothing. What the President proposed was shaking hands with extreme factions at a time when domestic terrorism was not only on the rise, but flaunting their powers to strike arguably anywhere and at any time. A pervasive shock shrouded the conference room. Nothing would be said unless Mentor spoke out; however, he apparently had nothing to say or was ordered to maintain silence.
President Ashton shoveled her papers at the lectern and spoke once again: “I know that you’ll need time to study and consider what I’ve proposed this evening. A detailed report on the ten steps that I have outlined will be delivered shortly to your offices. I will expect a proposal from each of you within next several days on how your respective sections will assimilate my ten steps. Thank you. That is all.”
At that, President Ashton left the conference room. Upon her departure, the silence of the room gave way to a low murmur. Harrison peered directly across the table at Mentor. For a moment, the two colleagues, the two friends, just stared at one another. Harrison was unwilling to believe that Mentor would lend his support to President Ashton’s platform. He also was uncertain as to why Mentor did not raise one single question during the briefing, why Mentor did not query the President on a single step of her unprecedented proposal.
The buzz in the conference room lessened as the agents began filtering out the door. Harrison glanced at Mentor who remained seated at the conference table. He remained seated as well as all but two other agents left the room. Harrison was about to speak, but Mentor held up his finger symbolically asking him not to talk. Mentor glanced at the two agents who were still in the conference room. They were in an indisputable discussion about the details of the President’s briefing.
One of the agents glimpsed Mentor from the corner of his eye. It was not difficult to interpret Mentor’s facial expression of impatience. The agent quickly tapped his colleague on the shoulder. He motioned him to follow him out of the conference room door and within seconds, the meeting room fell to silence.
Harrison, who witnessed the recent exit of his colleagues, turned his attention toward Mentor. The two men were face-to-face once again. This time, however, Harrison was determined to get some answers—some truthful answers. He peered into Mentor’s eyes and shook his head. Harrison spoke first. He disarmed their formal association by addressing their personal relationship: “Greg, I don’t understand what is going on! I can’t believe that you’re going to support the President in this endeavor.” A twinge came across Harrison’s face as his declaration bordered on insubordination if not treason.
Mentor did not respond immediately. His left hand supported his chin as his fingers tapped continuously over his mouth. It was as if Mentor was stalling for time in order to formulate his words. In reality and unknown to Harrison, Mentor knew exactly what he was going to say to his colleague and friend. It was difficult for him not to disclose the covert information that he possessed, especially to Hardware. Yet, circumstances dictated the utmost secrecy. Mentor knew that the smallest of leaks would certainly doom any plan to counteract the sinister plot unfolding before them. Not even friendship or apparent betrayal of their association could be measured against what he knew to be true.
Harrison, for his part, was being very patient. As much as he wanted information and to understand the circumstances before him, he learned over the years not to push Mentor. Harrison was well aware of the heavy responsibilities shouldered by Mentor. Although Harrison’s curiosity was eating away at him, Mentor would speak when it was prudent to do so. He waited for Mentor’s clarification of the unfolding events.
Mentor removed his hand that was supporting his chin and finally spoke: “Well, what do you think Hardware?” Harrison was rather stumped at the question. In fact, he did not expect a question at all. What he expected were some answers from Mentor, information that apparently was not immediately forthcoming. However, he knew that since Mentor addressed him in his coded vernacular, he expected a formal response. So, what indeed did Harrison think? Hardware scratched his head and spoke deliberately as his chose his words cautiously: “On the surface, si
r, it seems that President Ashton wants our country’s dissident terrorists to develop a strong foothold in American politics.”
Harrison wanted to say more—much more. Yet, he thought better of questioning Mentor and simply said what he had thought during the course of the President’s presentation. Harrison could not imagine that Mentor had formulated a different conclusion, or at least, he did not want to consider such a possibility. He made direct eye contact with Mentor to ascertain whether they were indeed in sync. Mentor then said rather matter-of-factly, too calmly for that matter, “You’re essentially correct, Hardware.” He added, “And that is exactly where we will concentrate our efforts—in support of President Ashton’s proposal.”
Harrison said nothing, but his confused expression and disbelief at the words spoken were certainly written across his face; and as such could not have escaped Mentor’s awareness. The two men stared at each other, a social skill that was happening all too frequently since his return from Rome. Mentor broke the silence and directed, “Meet me at Station Zero at twenty three hundred hours.” Mentor spoke nothing more. He left his seat as Hardware respectfully acknowledged, “Yes, sir.” Harrison was now alone in the conference room as his superior exited. The clarification he was hoping for did not occur. What Harrison understood was that the situation had increased in seriousness and danger for Mentor to evoke a rendezvous at Station Zero.
Chapter 11
A Lady in Waiting
Although it was late night in Washington, D.C., in Roma dawn was approaching. Hannah had a restless sleep and thought better than to argue with the breaking dawn. She faced away from the center of the bed, but smiled as she turned around to greet Harrison only to realize that he was not there. Hannah’s smile disappeared quickly as her hazy thoughts began to organize themselves and were no longer able to block out reality’s intrusion. She remembered that her fiancé was ordered away early the previous morning. Hannah’s tranquility was replaced by growing trepidation. She knew that the urgency by which her Harrison left Rome was an indication of the risk and danger he faced in the unfolding crisis—a crisis whose nature and intensity were unknown to her.
Mirror, Mirror at 1600 D.C. Page 8