All eyes were on the hypodermic needles and the vials on the coffee table.
“Do any of you know why you’re here?” Kathryn asked. “Well, speaking strictly for myself, I can certainly understand your reticence. Having said that, let me clear it up for you. You all participated in a rather unsavory event, not once but twice. You also placed the president of the United States in a very untenable situation. So untenable, she could be forced out of office. We’re,” she said, motioning to the Vigilantes, “all thinking it’s maybe because she’s a woman just like Crystal Clark is a woman. And while you all like to use and abuse women, you don’t really like the commander in chief or the woman who arranged the unsavory events you all participated in. The way things are going, or the way you all thought they would go, is that the president would bow out gracefully so as not to besmirch the presidency. Miss Clark would go on trial, and end up in jail. And the worst thing that would happen to the lot of you is a slap on the wrist, a few days of bad publicity, and you’d all go about your lives not caring that your families were damaged, possibly beyond repair. Everyone nod if this is all true.”
An aging congressman from Alabama started to cry. “What are you going to do to us?” he sniveled into the shoulder of his shirt.
“That depends on your answers. Here’s the question,” Yoko said. “First one who gets it right gets to go home. Was my fellow Sister right in her summary of what went down? Was that the game plan? And, most important of all, who was the person who arranged the campout? We want a name.”
Ted was text messaging Maggie so fast, his fingers were a blur on the small keypad. Espinosa was sending off his pictures at the speed of light.
The handcuffed men all started to talk at once. The moment the door to the great room opened, a sharp, shrill whistle ricocheted around the room. Standing in the doorway was the vice president.
“That’s him! That’s the son of a bitch!” Ambassador Kierson shouted. “It was all his idea. He had a thing with the madam. It went way back. Ask him. He’ll probably lie like the devil he is, but I damn well taped him the day he came to my office. Can I go now?”
“Do you have to use the bathroom?” Alexis asked. “No! Well, that’s the only place you can go. For now.”
The Alabama congressman was sobbing steadily by then.
The vice president, his hands cuffed behind him, blustered. “If you would all just use your brains and shut up, we can square this away, and we can all go home. Lying, Ambassador Kierson, will get you nowhere.”
Jack gave the vice president a shove that sent him skidding across the room. He landed between the Alabama congressman and the senator from Delaware. Both men struggled to move away from him.
Annie walked to the center of the room, Myra at her side. “Allow me to introduce ourselves, gentlemen. We,” she said, waving her arm around, “are the Vigilantes. These other gentlemen are our…helpers. If you like the word ‘enforcers,’ we can go with that. It makes no never mind to us. Now, we have you dead to rights. Ms. Crystal Clark was a very thorough lady. She had all your fingerprints, including yours, Mr. Vice President. The lady kept impeccable records. And pictures. Fantastic videos. We have them all. As you may have noticed, we’re women. We do not like, not even one little bit, what you all tried to do to the president and Ms. Clark. Having said that, we are now going to show you a video. Don’t blush like that, gentlemen, you aren’t in this particular video, but I’d wager to guess you will be, sooner rather than later. Look alert, gentlemen, I don’t want you to miss anything. Kathryn, show these fine men where they’re going.”
The film that appeared on the monster screen was crystal clear in HD. The colors were vibrant, the foliage lush and thick as the photographer panned the area where the documentary had been filmed. The voice-over sounded British. Then the camera homed in on a large, ramshackle building. Here, the lush foliage and vibrant colors were gone. Everything looked drab and brown. There were no crystal pools, no fruit trees or flowers to be seen. There were no cars, only mule-drawn carts.
“This place,” the voice said, “is a male brothel, one of many in Thailand. This is where the dregs of society come to end their days. There is little in the way of food. When the males aren’t working, they are permitted to roam the streets to beg for coins and extra food. Here in this land, no one runs away, they always come back to this building or one just like it. Because…there is nowhere else to go.”
The screen turned black. The silence in the room was total, so total, the click of the remote being turned off sounded like a thunderclap.
Then the room came alive with sound as the men struggled to their feet, their faces masks of horror and disbelief.
“You can’t do this!” cried Ambassador Kierson. “Hunter, stop this goddamn crap and tell these people the truth. Do you hear me, you piece of scum? I’m not going to end my days in some…male brothel in—Jesus Christ—Thailand! These women can make that happen. Will you look at them? Look at their faces; they look goddamn gleeful. Tell them what they want to know.”
Hunter Pryce looked sick. He licked at his lips. “Let’s make a deal; you let me go, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.” He jerked his head in the direction of the others, and said, “They were all for it. They wanted the risk, the thrill, and they were willing to pay for it. Yes, I made promises to them. I would have kept them, too. So, do we have a deal or not?”
The women pretended to confer.
Annie stepped forward. “Well, you are the vice president. I guess we have to treat you a little differently from these other offenders. Okay, we have a deal. Now answer this question. Did you love Crystal Clark?”
“Yes.”
“What about Martine Connor? Did you start up your affair with her to advance your career? I guess I want to know if you loved her or if you used her.”
“She was pleasant enough, but, no, I didn’t love her, and, yes, she was part of my plan.”
Annie snapped her fingers. Alexis rummaged in her Red Bag and came up with a small notebook and pen. She handed them to Annie, who waited until Pryce’s cuffs were removed. “Now write exactly what I tell you. Make it clear and legible. If you don’t screw up, you can go.”
The only sound that could be heard was the scratch of the pen on paper as Annie dictated the words. Once or twice Pryce looked up at Annie, then at the other Vigilantes, with raised eyebrows and a smirk on his face. When he was finished he handed the notebook to Annie and turned to go. Alexis replaced the pad and pen in the Red Bag.
“I said you could go, I didn’t say where,” Annie said, as Jack and Harry forcibly held the vice president for a new set of FlexiCuffs.
“Time for our shots, gentlemen. You can’t travel to a new country without your shots. Which ones, Annie?” Myra asked.
“They each get two.” Annie giggled as she picked up two syringes and went to work.
Jack and Harry had their work cut out for them as the men tried to fight the needles coming their way.
“Tsk-tsk, politicians shouldn’t talk that way,” Jack said as Annie jabbed the congressman from New Jersey. “What are your constituents going to say when they see this on the evening news?”
“Audio is perfect, Jack,” Ted said. “The networks will bleep it out, but what the hell, the viewing public is pretty astute at deciphering what isn’t said.”
“Who’s watching the time?” Nikki shouted.
“Me,” Yoko said. “We’re okay.”
“Who’s moving the cars?” Kathryn shouted.
“The guy in the cherry picker. He’s been moving them around the corner for the past fifteen minutes,” Isabelle shouted in return.
Snowden and his men, who had just returned from the White House, entered the room and immediately surrounded the politicians, guns drawn.
Jack couldn’t resist asking Snowden what the plan was.
“We march them one by one to the Dumpster, where they can join those cruds from the Secret Service.”
�
��What if they yell or scream or shout at the top of their lungs? People are going to hear them.”
“Wong! Front and center. Do that thing you do with your finger. Then my men will dump them in the Dumpster. Can you do that?”
“What’s in it for me?” Harry teased, knowing Jack was loving every minute of the countdown.
“A bullet if you don’t. And don’t for one minute think you can snatch a bullet out of thin air.”
“Well, the truth is, Snowden, I can do that, but it takes energy, so I’ll just do what you can’t do, and I’m telling Charles what you said the next time I see him.”
“Smart-ass.”
“Street’s clear except for the Secret Service cars. There’s no sign of the truck that’s supposed to haul the Dumpster away,” Jack said.
Snowden listened to the voice in his Bluetooth headset and then barked an order. “He’s one street over. The rest of you move those cars up on people’s lawns. Move! Move! Do I have to do everything?”
“God forbid,” Jack muttered.
“Dammit to hell, Emery, I’m the extraction team. This other shit is not my forte. Do your part, and everyone will be happy. Come on, Espinosa, how the hell many pictures do you need?”
“I’m done. You are free to go.”
“Time?” Nikki shouted.
“Fifteen minutes. We’re still good,” Yoko responded.
“Is everything packed?” Annie asked.
“We’re good to go, Mom,” Yoko said.
Annie grinned from ear to ear. The Vigilantes headed for the door.
“I have an idea,” Myra said.
When Myra had an idea everyone stopped to listen. Myra talked. Then the Vigilantes started to laugh. Ted and Harry turned white, then red, then they clung to each other in panic.
Yoko made loud kissing sounds directed at Harry. Nikki blew Jack a kiss, then raced after Yoko and the others.
“Tell me they aren’t going to do what they said they’re going to do?”
“I wish I could, Harry, but I can’t. How we have to look at this is that there are photo ops, and then there are photo ops. This is the photo op of the year! We need to clear out of here right now. We can see it and hear about it tonight at my place. C’mon, we need to call Lizzie and Maggie. We did good, Harry, and I saw something I never thought I’d ever live to see.”
Harry fell right into that. “What’s that?”
“Your underwear!” Jack took off at a dead run and was behind the wheel before Harry could get to him. Both men laughed all the way to the Post, where Maggie was waiting for them.
Ted and Espinosa were waiting outside the gates of the West Wing when the residents of Kalorama exited the White House grounds. Espinosa snapped busily as the guests preened and held up their White House souvenirs, their gazes sweeping the area for their ride back to their homes.
“Change of plans, ladies and gentlemen. It seems the Dumpster at the Woodley house got stuck in the middle of the road somehow and your drivers are unable to move their vehicles. Not to worry,” Ted said cheerfully. “We have a ride for you with some very interesting people who want to meet you. All aboard,” he cackled, as the men and women trooped onto the bus.
Kathryn hit the gas pedal the moment the last passenger was seated and buckled in.
The Vigilantes stood up and bowed. “We’re taking you home, ladies and gentlemen, and we’re also apologizing for the inconvenience.”
“Are you really…?”
“Oh, this is soooo exciting. So much better than that syrupy lunch we had to endure. And these tacky mementos, what can I say? I wouldn’t want to go there again. Well, maybe at Christmastime. Is that Russian man still in the neighborhood? I can’t believe the Vigilantes are chauffeuring us to our homes.” Then the blue-haired lady turned around to converse with her excited neighbors, who were all babbling at the same time about how boring the White House was and how devilishly exciting the ride home was.
“Can you tell us what happened on our little street?” a shy older man with thick glasses asked. “I suspected something was up. That house is just a haven for bad things to go on. I’m not saying you did a bad thing. You probably did something that made something else right, isn’t that so?”
“You could say that,” Annie said.
“If you need any new recruits, can we volunteer?” a sprightly seventysomething queried. “We’re as old as you two,” she said, pointing to Myra and Annie.
That shut Annie up, who then whispered in Myra’s ear, “Did you hear that? We absolutely have to get those tattoos now.”
“You’re right. We don’t look like them, do we, Annie?” Myra asked fretfully.
“Not yet we don’t,” Annie said grimly. “I’m thinking that tattoos will take care of…whatever.”
Nikki stood up. “You ladies and gentlemen aren’t going to rat us out, are you? Tomorrow you can talk all you want, but first we have to get safely away.”
“What can we do to help you, dear?” a man in his sixties asked. “My daughter Millie is never going to believe this.”
“Just let us get you safely home and promise to keep this secret until tomorrow morning is the best you can do for us. Now, who wants a picture with the famous Vigilantes?”
Espinosa clicked and clicked until he thought he would go out of his mind. He promised to send pictures to everyone. Ted copied down names and addresses as the passengers chatted and gurgled about the “dry-as-dust White House and the food that should have been a buffet where one could pick and choose instead of that thick sauce stuff and baby carrots that were no bigger than your little finger.” Yada, yada, yada. “And the president wasn’t even wearing a tiara or any jewelry that amounted to anything. She just looked plain. Plain is not good.” Yada, yada, yada.
Kathryn yelled, “Hold on,” as she took the curve at a very wide angle that would lead her to Evergreen Terrace. She parked the bus in the Woodley driveway and waited for all the neighbors to climb out.
Another round of pictures was called for. Espinosa gritted his teeth but complied.
“Do you have any idea how late you are?” Snowden bellowed. “You screwed up my plan.”
“Where’s our ride out of here?” Kathryn bellowed in return.
“You’re looking at it, lady. Get in the Dumpster. The sleeve talkers are still sleeping it off in their cars. They’re going to wake up in ten minutes, if Wong is right. Now, get the hell in and let’s go.”
“What about the Federation bus?” asked Espinosa.
“I’m driving it out. Come on, ladies, you can chitchat later. You and you, you’re coming with me,” Snowden said, pointing to Annie and Myra.
“Why?” they both squeaked in unison.
“Because I said so, that’s why. Move your fannies back in the bus.”
Snowden waited for Yoko, who was the last one into the Dumpster, then he waved his hand at the driver of the truck, who would haul the Dumpster to a safe place.
The residents of Evergreen Terrace clapped their hands, stomped their feet, and offered up a rousing send-off as the huge truck and Dumpster lumbered down the street and around the corner.
Myra and Annie waved frantically, blowing kisses, which were returned with gusto by the seniors.
“Where are we going, Mr. Snowden?” Annie asked.
“To a tattoo parlor I know in Chevy Chase. I took the liberty of bringing you a catalog of designs. And don’t ask how I knew. If I told you, then I’d have to kill you. So just sit back and enjoy the ride, ladies.”
“Oh, Myra, that makes it official. We’re doing it!”
“Think of it as, we’re making a statement!” Myra said, getting into it. “I’m excited, Annie.”
Annie laughed and almost fell out of her seat. “Me too, Myra. Me too.”
Epilogue
It was a beautiful day on Big Pine Mountain. The sun was golden and warm, the heady scent of the pines wafting through the open windows. The beauty of the day matched the Sisters’ good mood as they
assembled in the war room to go over the mission details. The fact that they were safe and back on the mountain proved they had been successful. They were waiting now for Nikki to print out copies of the online morning papers, especially the Post.
Even though Maggie had called and told them what to expect, there was nothing like seeing it in black and white. Nikki pressed the PRINT button, and seven copies spewed out of the printer. She stapled them and handed them out to her Sisters.
Smiles. Laughter. Raised eyebrows. More laughter, then a round of high fives.
“Washington will never be the same,” Isabelle said.
“An invitation was issued to Bert to visit the White House,” Kathryn said.
“The seniors in Kalorama are like rock stars. They’re all going on the morning talk shows. There’s talk of a book offer.” Nikki laughed.
“Listen to this,” Alexis said. “One of the seniors said they were disappointed in the Secret Service, who left them high and dry, and they were just grateful that the Vigilantes came to their aid at the White House and got them safely home. Lovely, ladies, just lovely. She went on to say someone needed to pay attention to the Russian who was so deadly. ‘At first I thought he was Oriental, but I soon realized he was Mother Russia’s favorite son, and he was right here in Kalorama. Everyone knows Churchill said Russians were Orientals with their shirts tucked in.’ She said the ride home was more exciting than the lunch at the White House.”
“I didn’t know Churchill said that,” Annie said.
“I bet Charles would have known it,” Myra said.
“Jack and Harry are boxing up the Secret Service agents’ weapons and badges, and they will be delivered to the White House today by special messenger. In other words, one of Harry the Russian’s people,” Yoko snickered.
“And we now have the package that was sent to Lizzie’s office that was delivered to Maggie, who gave it to Ted to give to us,” Nikki said. “Copies of all the madam’s records. The letter inside said she didn’t know how to get the materials to us, but she remembered that Lizzie was our attorney when we were arrested. Just goes to show you what a small world it really is. Anyway, we have it all. And now the world knows we have it all, thanks to Maggie. I imagine the White House is doing a little shivering and shuddering. And according to Lizzie, the madam is a world away with her girls, and everyone is safe.”
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