When he walked into the vast reception hall, he was pleased to see that all invited had been accounted for as they chatted away in the alcove off to the side of the main room. He remained standing in place for a moment, as he listened to the sound of backslapping and friendly banter, as old friends reconnected. All the while, his expression remained serious.
Seymour, the first to spot the new arrival, stood up. As he walked toward him, he demanded, “Where the hell are we?” still smarting over the blindfold.
The others followed behind.
Noble ignored Seymour’s complaining and walked over to offer him a handshake, which he accepted—willing to let the question slide for the moment. Noble then moved along to greet Chase, and then Paolo, thanking them both for accepting his invitation. He saved Hank Kramer for last.
Noble was more than delighted that Hank had become a more compliant adversary since the death of Simon, and that he had been cooperative thus far. He had not forgotten, however, that Hank was a key figure among the members of La Fratellanza. Hank was not only the person aligned with Simon, but as the chief of staff of the former president, he was also the direct link between Simon and Baari. He was in the center of activity. On several occasions, he knowingly broke his immunity agreement and continued to communicate surreptitiously with Simon. His shenanigans seemed endless, following the Chicago Manual of Politics. As a result, his Chestnut Foundation continued to be slammed with lawsuits accusing him of misappropriation of federal funds and voter intimidation. Hank, not one to learn from his mistakes, found himself once again fraught with similar charges during the 2016 presidential election. And although the claims were unsubstantiated, they took their toll. In the end, Hank folded under the pressure, fearing Simon more than the long line of lawsuits.
Once the pleasantries were out of the way, Noble invited each of them to be seated at the table in the center of the room. However, he remained standing and watched as each of them pulled up a chair. He could not help but muse, Habits are hard to break. Ironically, they each chose the same seating arrangement they had occupied during their study group at Harvard. Hank sat to Chase’s left, followed by an empty chair. Situated next to the empty chair sat Seymour, and then Paolo completed the circle.
Still, in an apparent huff, Seymour fingered the initials LF etched in the center of the table. “Nice touch, Noble,” he allowed with a grin.
The table was the same one that La Fratellanza had sat around those many years ago. It was where they discussed their individual theses, and also, where they had joined forces and engaged in the intellectual game: to devise a shadow thesis identifying the steps necessary to bring an illegal immigrant to the U.S.—and get him elected president.
But the table held even greater significance. On the day their plot was foiled, Hamilton had transferred that table from his conference room to the interrogation room at the CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia. This was the same table he had confiscated years earlier from an apartment in Cambridge, based on clues that led him to Simon Hall’s apartment—the scene of the infamous study group. Through fingerprint analysis, Noble and the former director were able to determine the seating arrangement each of the members of La Fratellanza had assumed. All but one.
Without explanation, Simon’s prints were nowhere to be found. He had removed any trace of himself but, curiously, he chose to leave those of his brethren. Even that early on in their relationships, Simon was scheming to set them up at some future date. That table had remained in Noble’s office ever since, as a reminder that one day he would bring Simon to justice. On April third, in a dramatic closing of the curtain, Simon robbed him of that satisfaction with his leap off the Peach Bridge.
As planned, each member had arrived at the facility earlier that morning, giving them ample time to scout out their new surroundings. With little effort, they had discovered the three bedroom suites, the central kitchen, and the fully equipped fitness center. The living room alcove was where Noble had discovered them lounging on the two overstuffed sofas, watching a baseball game on the gigantic screen. He suspected that they also noted the two large steel panels in the rear of the reception hall, and had snooped around trying to access a series of the other locked doors.
Up to that point, the group had been restrained, other than for Seymour’s outburst. But the angst on their faces did not go unnoticed. Noble presumed they were waiting to find out in greater detail why they had been summoned—an explanation he would ease into a step at a time.
“I trust each of you has found your accommodations satisfactory? I hope they meet your lofty standards.”
“What’s with the bunking assignments? It reminds me of summer camp.” Hank asked. Being the first to arrive, he quickly found the instructions posted on each of the bedroom doors, indicating the sleeping arrangements and any requests for dietary restrictions.
“I was thinking that, based on your Harvard days, it might be best to put the strange bedfellows in one suite and the ladies’ men in the other suite.” Noble abandoned his serious demeanor for the first time and smiled. “So you’ll be sharing quarters with Chase. Paolo and Seymour will be in the other suite.”
“What’s with the room over there? Are you saving that one for Simon?” Hank asked, returning the smile.
“You never did recover the body. Did he in fact jump, or do you have him holed up in witness protection or who knows where?” Seymour prodded, adding his two cents.
The others offered a nervous chuckle in a bow to Simon’s elusiveness.
Noble ignored the probing and simply stated, “That’s my suite.”
“What about those rooms?” Chase asked. He pointed to the closed double doors to the left of the alcove and the adjacent single door—both were locked.
Noble once heard a rumor that behind one of the doors was a rigged stage that looked like the Oval Office. Should it become necessary, the president would use the set to speak to the nation or to her enemies, giving the appearance he was safe and ensconced in the White House. The other door was believed to be a presidential apartment to serve as temporary quarters. Obviously, they were locked for a reason.
“The tour’s over. Those rooms are unimportant to your mission,” Noble answered in haste. He was eager to move the discussion forward.
Seymour, assuming the others had entered the facility in a similarly circuitous route, thought that they had to be equally curious as to their location. He pressed on their behalf. “Okay, so where the hell are we?”
On impulse, Hank scanned the room with a more studious eye, having not given the specific location prior thought. Then, in utter astonishment, he announced, “The Crystal Palace!”
The others were dumbfounded, other than Noble, who was impressed with Hank’s conclusion. Of course, he would have had firsthand knowledge, as the former president’s chief of staff.
“We’re at Mount Weather?” Chase’s voice dripped with concern, struggling to stave off the onset of claustrophobia.
They were all privy to the fact that Mount Weather was located about forty-eight miles outside of Washington, D.C. near the rural town of Bluemont, Virginia. It was a self-contained facility used for a variety of activities, most notably, the training ground for FEMA, the Federal Emergency Management Agency. It was the national-security stronghold utilized as a command center for over a hundred federal relocation centers in the event of a national emergency. Beyond that, what went on underground was less well known. The underground city was rumored to provide a safe haven for the president if the country were ever under attack. The code name for the presidential emergency facility was referred to as “The Crystal Palace.” But its location was classified, known only to a small cadre of those at the highest level.
If Hank had figured out where we are, chances are Simon had also known of its existence. Noble took a deep breath at the thought and then stated, “As I told you when I first solicited you for this mission, you would be staying in a secure location and all your needs would be met.�
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Hank smiled. “It’s obvious we’re trapped inside the Crystal Palace, which is why we haven’t been able to get any cell reception,” he concluded.
Noble shrugged, as though to say, Indeed.
“Now we understand where we are, but we need to know the details as to why we’re here!” Paolo insisted.
Noble looked at the wall clock. It was time to put the plan in motion.
He remained standing and began his elaboration. “I’m sure it hasn’t escaped any of you that the reeling economy and the current number of people not participating in the workforce could push the economy deeper into a recession—even edge the country toward a depression.” He hesitated. “If that should happen, the economic effects will not trickle—but will flood the world—causing global economic devastation beyond any adversity we’ve experienced in our history.”
It did not take much for them to conjure up images. Not from old photos of the breadlines from the Great Depression, but from the latest series of apocalyptic films and television episodes that permeated the airwaves. The rebirth of shantytowns and wandering hobos had become Hollywood themes with firm messages against corporate greed and the plight of the poor.
“What does all of that have to do with us?” Chase asked, characteristically afraid of the answer.
“The president is well aware that a group of highly intellectual men were responsible for placing Baari in the Oval Office, which resulted in a market crash brought on by his policies, with all the attendant consequences. Furthermore, he’s mindful of your actions that aided and abetted Simon’s infiltration of the government.”
Paolo interrupted forcefully. “We didn’t know Simon’s motives or the true measure of his master plan.”
“None of us did!” Hank insisted.
“We’ve rehashed that narrative many times before,” Noble reminded them and then emphasized, “Simon is dead, but the country still remains in a precarious situation. Gentlemen, in five minutes, the president will conference in and make his request to you directly.”
All the members of La Fratellanza were speechless.
That presented Noble the opportunity to walk over to the table and sit down in the empty chair. At the same time, he pulled out a small remote-control device from his pocket and pointed it toward the wall behind him. Then the large painting of a seascape that hung on the wall suddenly began to lift up toward the ceiling, revealing a large flat-screen monitor.
The others continued to be mesmerized.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” came the voice from a speaker system. The view on the monitor was the President of the United States, seated behind his desk in the Oval Office.
The group around the round table immediately sat upright as if to stand at attention.
“Good evening, Mr. President,” the chorus replied.
“I’m encouraged to see that all of you are present. And I’m confident that each of you understands that our country’s sinking economy and sovereignty are in peril,” he began. “There is a blatant cry for jobs, but the prior administration turned a deaf ear, caught up in their own diversions. They offered nothing tangible to counteract the stress.”
The members of La Fratellanza shifted in their chairs, each feeling as though the president’s piercing eyes were directed at them personally.
“Nothing tangible,” he continued, “except to create hopelessness, which appears to be the impetus for people to drop out of the workforce in such large numbers, and opt to rely heavily on government subsidies to hold their families together. We’re caught in a vicious spiral that could lead us deeper into a recession, or worse. We must climb out of this vortex. My primary concern is to put people back to work. It’s our major building block to get our economy out of the doldrums. Without some positive steps we are on the road to unsustainability!”
Hearing the president use the word “unsustainability” had a frightening connotation.
Then he began to quote a recent analysis by the Congressional Budget Office. “As the cost of government subsidies continues to increase, it places a heavier burden on our debt. Absent drastic policy changes the federal debt is expected to rise to over 106 percent of the GDP by 2039.”
He paused briefly before delivering the CBO’s dire conclusion.
“If the federal debt continues to grow faster than the GDP, it will become unsustainable for the economy. Investor confidence in the government’s ability to pay its debt obligations will inevitably cause another market collapse.” The president leaned his elbows on his desk as he moved closer toward the camera, and stated, “Gentlemen, on the fifth of July, after the Independence Day weekend comes to a close, I will deliver a speech to the nation outlining a strategy to restore the economy, to alleviate the fears of the American families, and to reclaim their faith in their government. I ask all of you now to use your well-honed skills to devise that strategy. You have sixty-five days to do so.”
He remained silent for the moment, giving them time to absorb his request.
“I recognize I’m asking you to make an enormous personal sacrifice for your country. Please take the evening to discuss it among yourselves. I must have your commitment by the morning. Noble will be on hand all evening to elaborate on the strategy. Thank you and God bless America.”
The president signed off.
Everyone remained silent as they stared at the blank screen.
13
RULES OF ENGAGEMENT
“What? This is an impossible task!” Chase exclaimed, being the first to come out of their self-induced coma. “I agree with Chase! What’s he smoking anyway? Any changes in policy would require Congress’s approval.” Hank, not hesitating to chime in, pressed the point. “It takes years to wheel and deal to get any bill passed. Has anyone heard of Washington gridlock?”
“Hey guys, chill,” Paolo interjected, attempting to slow the conversation down. “The wheels operate sluggishly in government, but let’s make the operative word ‘deal,’ not ‘wheel.’ We’ll need to make deals here. There’s no other way!” Then, appealing to the egos of his brethren, he added, “We’re at our best when thinking outside the box. Although, this may require us to meander farther from the box than anticipated.”
Noble was pleased that Paolo appeared to be on board, savoring the challenge. Whatever the reason, he needed them all to pick up the cudgel. It was time to add more clarity. “The president sees the number-one problem affecting the economy is the paucity of jobs. After all these years, the feeble attempts at recovery defy historical norms. The snail-like pace of job creation is a key factor, along with the anemic employment participation rate. Our job is to decipher the underlying issues and prescribe a fix. The first step toward energizing an ailing economy. Our findings and conclusions must be based on facts, free of political biases. The entire exercise is classified and will be made an inseparable part of your current immunity agreements.”
“I don’t get!” Hank questioned, “The president has lots of brainiacs at his disposal. Why us?”
“The president has a Plan B that his so-called brainiacs devised. It would force him to squander more stimulus money to stop the bleeding and to stem further social unrest. But it doesn’t solve the long-term problems. It’s just another Band-Aid and won’t stop the hemorrhaging!” Noble exclaimed. Then he elaborated, placing his words with care. “The public is distrustful about another president with an executive pen and a printing press. FDR tactics would be a desperate choice. It comes down to a question of trust. The country is polarized at this moment and we all know that past attempts to resolve these problems have failed miserably. The blame can be laid on the personal interests, biases, and political chicanery. The president needs you to devise Plan A—one that will face up to the real issues and attack them openly, honestly, and transparently.”
“So what’s in it for us?” Seymour asked with skepticism.
“An unequalled opportunity to preserve the country’s future.” Noble then reminded them of the “T
ruth or Dare” game they played at Harvard and how Simon used it to test their loyalty. “Consider this the supreme test of your loyalty. This time to your country, sacrificing your own ideology and personal circumstances aside. More on point: consider it an opportunity for your own redemption, not a usual gift for those who have gone astray.”
The members of La Fratellanza shifted uneasily in their chairs, contemplating Noble’s last statement. Apprehensive about where he was going with the issue, they began to mull over their options. Caught in a moment of deep concentration, they paid no particular attention to the fact that Noble had sat down in the chair Simon would have occupied.
Hank, quick to revive, was the first to notice. “Are you assuming the role of self-appointed leader this time around?”
“I’ll function as the moderator, but we’ll all work together. Now listen up; here are the ground rules,” he stated with more seriousness. “You will have no communication with the outside world, other than at designated times. The calls will be placed on the secure phone over there.” He pointed toward the set of steel doors they had entered earlier. “It requires an access code, which only I possess. Once a week, you’ll be allowed to chat with your loved ones or business partners, although your conversations will be somewhat restrained by the circumstances. You are never to reveal your whereabouts or your assignment. I trust that you’ve already conditioned your families and associates for your absences. As Hank discovered, your smartphones will not work inside these walls.” He paused to ensure that they were following, and then continued. “Each day your meals will be delivered at seven, one, and eight o’clock sharp. Not knowing your dietary preferences beforehand, I took the liberty of selecting palatable choices for your meals this evening; I trust they will suffice. The kitchen will be stocked daily with beverages and snacks at your disposal. I recognize the difficulty that comes with being isolated for long periods of time, so I urge you to use the workout room to keep you physically, as well as, mentally fit. All laundry will be collected every Friday and returned on the following Monday. You’ll find individual laundry bags in your rooms marked with your first initials, for obvious security reasons. Should you need anything else to make your stay comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask.” With a bow of the head, Noble bragged, “Our service is second to none.” Scanning each of their faces, he noted their acquiescence, at least on the surface. Somewhat relieved, he thought, So far, so good.
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