The Girl in the White House

by Nick Harlow

  She jogged to the FBI truck surrounded by agents, stretched to her full five-foot-six inches and flashed her network badge to one of them. “If Brett Lauria’s in there, can you tell him I’d like a word? I’m Gina Collins from—”

  “I know who you are, Ma’am.”

  His words stung a bit. Ma’am? Damn, do I look that old? “Soooo... is he here?”

  “Yes, he’s here. Hang on a minute.” The agent raised his wrist to his mouth and talked into the microphone at the end of his sleeve. “Special Agent Lauria, do you have a minute for Miss Collins from CST?” He listened and nodded. “Miss Collins, he’ll be right out.”

  Brett Lauria opened the door, spotted Gina, closed the door behind him and walked toward her. She smiled and extended her hand to her best government contact. “Brett, thanks. I know you’re busy as hell. How’s it going?”

  “We’re still getting everything set up. I can’t give you much right now, Gina.”

  “Are you in contact with whoever has the President?”

  “Not yet. Calls to the private lines within the building have gone unanswered. And they haven’t tried to contact us or any other agency. So we’re sitting tight.”

  “What about the Secret Service? I assume you’re working in conjunction with them.”

  The bald, fortysomething agent looked around, his dark eyes scanning the scene to make sure no one was listening, then lowered his voice. “Okay, this part is off the record. There are Secret Service agents at the other end of the White House, but they’re standing by. They’re not going to do anything that might jeopardize the life of the President until we have exhausted other options. We’re a long way from that point.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Before we do anything, we need to find out what the bad guys want first. And we can’t do that until we establish communication. Till then, we really can’t do a thing. But we have one of our best hostage negotiators on the way. Should be here soon.”

  “Anything you can give me on the record, Brett?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry, Gina, not yet.”

  “But you’ve got something.”

  He looked away.

  “C’mon, Brett. I know that look. Give me something I can use. Anything. You know my situation and I’ve always been fair to you. And you owe me one from a few years ago. Right now I’m kinda desperate.”

  “Well, I don’t want to give you anything until the hostage negotiator gets here. Gina, I get that this is going to be the biggest story of your career, and you and I have had a good relationship over the years, but this is one situation I am not going to let the media screw up.”

  “You know I would never do anything to make the Bureau look bad or broadcast fake news—”

  “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about the anchor on your network right now who is not doing us a lot of good. She’s so dramatic she could spin anything you say into Armageddon.”

  “I know she has a tendency to sensationalize things, but I’m the one who’s here at the scene. She can only use what I give her.”

  “Then give her something to calm her down.”

  “So give me something to do that.”

  He nodded. “You’re good, Gina. Look, your anchor already has sensationalized the situation and we don’t need the country to panic, especially with what’s going on overseas at this very moment.” He looked up and thought a moment, then back at her. “Tell you what. Do me a favor. Let your viewers know that things are progressing and that we hope the situation will be resolved soon.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Depends on how you look at things, doesn’t it? But this will help move things along. If they’re monitoring your network, and I’m sure they are, I’m betting whoever is in charge of holding Donovan hostage will wonder if someone on their team has gone rogue and will finally pick up the phone.”

  She slowly nodded. “So you wanna use me.”

  He leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Help me out here, Gina, and you can use me to win an Emmy. Right now we both need each other. So, do we have a deal?

  “Deal.”

  “Good. Then when I do have something you’ll be the first to know. I’ve still got your number in my cell.” He looked up and saw other reporters running in their direction. “Hell, they spotted me. Gotta run. Walk away shaking your head and throw up your hands like I gave you nothing.”

  “Copy that.”

  He turned and headed back to the van. He closed the door just as the horde of reporters were stopped by the other agents.

  Gina headed back to her camera, grumbling and wearing a disgusted look as the other reporters ran past.

  Glenn looked up. “Got anything?”

  She looked around to make sure the other media people were out of earshot. “Yeah.”

  He handed her a microphone. “Good.” He pulled out his cell phone and placed a quick call. “Gina’s good to go.” He turned to her. “Minute out.”

  “Shoot me above the waist, please.”

  “How come?”

  “Cause I don’t need to be seen covering the White House in this ridiculously short skirt.”

  “Boss won’t like it, but I’ll do it.”

  Gina Collins stepped in front of the camera, stood up straight, and took a deep breath as Glenn turned on the light above his camera. “I look okay?”

  “You forget who’s shooting this?”

  “Sorry. You always make me look good, Glenn.” She noted a few other reporters walking behind Glenn, looking frustrated.

  Amateurs. I’ll show them how to play this game.

  PRESIDENT DONOVAN KNEW his daughter, held hostage or not, was in trouble. She either had a gun pointed at her head, or, if she didn’t, would no doubt try something to help her father.

  He entered military mode.

  His Marine training and experience kicked in.

  He looked around the room to see what sort of resistance was available, if it came to that.

  A few of the hostages would be valuable. The Secretary of State was a Navy veteran, and though in his mid-sixties still maintained a fit body and was tough as nails. The Director of Homeland Security would help as well, since she was a former police captain. The rest of the hostages included his Director of Communications and a few administrative types.

  And Gladys, who was probably the most street smart person in the room. She knew Sydney’s every expression and temperament as well as he did.

  Along with being a surrogate mom to Sydney. He had to protect her.

  His captors had considered all angles and made a smart move bringing everyone to the Cabinet Room. Had Donovan still been in the Oval Office he had a few things in his desk he could use as a weapon. But this was basically a long room with chairs, a table and a bunch of phones. Not even a letter opener. The most useless room in the White House if you wanted to fight.

  He leaned over toward the Secretary of State. “I don’t see anything in here we can use for a weapon.”

  The cabinet member nodded. “Yeah, I know. They’ve got assault rifles and we’ve got bare hands.”

  The President felt a light tap on his arm. He turned and found Gladys leaning toward him. “I have something you can use, but it’s not here.”

  “Not sure I understand.”

  “It’s in my purse.”

  Donovan looked down around her chair. “You don’t have it with you.”

  “It’s in my office. But I know how to get it.” She leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “I’ll be needing my heart medication about now.”

  His eyes filled with concern. “Gladys, I didn’t know you were having health problems—”

  “I’m not.” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “But I am now. Got it?” She leaned back and placed her hand over her chest. “This situation is causing me a lot of stress on my heart. My chest is tightening up and I’m feeling faint.”

  “Got it.” Donovan raised his voice. “Mayfair?”

  The
agent turned toward him. “What?’

  He cocked his head at Gladys, whose face was now tightened. “She needs her heart medication and it’s in her office.”

  Mayfair turned to Gladys. “You need it now?”

  She nodded as she grimaced and put her hand over her chest. “Unless you want a dead hostage that you didn’t kill but who will be your responsibility, yeah. It’s in my purse under my desk. I can go get it—” She started to get up.

  “Nice try, Gladys. I’ll have someone get it for you.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  A few minutes later one of the Capitol Police officers returned with the purse and handed it to Mayfair. “I took out her cell phone. Nothing in there but prescription bottles and the usual old lady stuff.”

  Mayfair opened the purse and poked around.

  Gladys shot him the death stare. “I don’t think any of my makeup works with your coloring, Mayfair. But if you’re so inclined, knock yourself out.”

  He slammed the purse shut. “Sarcastic till the end.” He walked over and handed the purse to Gladys.

  “Thank you.” She pulled out a prescription bottle, shook out a pill. “Uh, can I have some water?”

  Mayfair rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He marched over to a water pitcher, grabbed it and a glass, brought it back to Gladys and placed it on the table. “Anything else? Something from the kitchen?”

  “A butcher knife would be nice.”

  “Take your damn pill before you die. Or do us all a favor and don’t take it.”

  She smiled at him, took the pill and swallowed it. “Sorry, you don’t get rid of me that easy.” She put the purse on the floor between her and the President, leaving it open.

  Mayfair went back to the other agents.

  Donovan leaned back and whispered. “Need some polish for your brass ones, Gladys?”

  “Mayfair’s always been thin-skinned. You can push his buttons. Thought I’d make him twitch a bit.”

  “Well played. So what medicine did you just take?”

  “Something for indigestion.”

  The President glanced down into her purse. “So what’s in there that we can use?”

  “See the lipstick with the red top? Not a lipstick. That thing is a taser. Open it up, push the red button and it shoots a few thousand volts. Agent Ryan gave it to me for Christmas a couple years ago. And I keep it charged up.”

  “Remind me never to piss you off.”

  The Capitol Police officer pointed at one of the television sets in the room. “Hey Mayfair, something’s happening.”

  Donovan noticed one of the most objective journalists he knew was about to do a live shot from the scene. Mayfair grabbed a remote and turned up the sound as the anchor tossed to the reporter.

  “Gina Collins is standing by live in front of the White House, which continues to be under siege at this hour. Gina, what’s going on?”

  “Beverly, while the President and several members of his staff are being held hostage, a high level government source tells me that things are progressing and that there is no reason to panic. Hopefully the situation will be resolved soon—”

  Mayfair jammed his thumb into the remote, pausing the video. “What the hell is she talking about? Nothing is progressing! We haven’t even talked to them yet!”

  Gladys gently elbowed the President and whispered. “See. Thin-skinned. Button pushed.”

  “Noted.” Donovan sat up straight and raised his voice. “Maybe they know something you don’t, Mayfair.”

  “I didn’t say you could talk!” Mayfair stormed toward the President. He raised his hand to backhand Donovan across the face, then stopped as the phone rang. “Saved by the bell.”

  Donovan nodded at the phone. “You should answer that this time. Might find out what’s really going on.”

  Mayfair turned and picked up the phone. “Yes?” He listened for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the President. “I’m not ready to tell you what I want yet. Just know that if you take any action to rescue the hostages, I’ll kill them all. Am I clear?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Scott Rusch and Jordan Reese returned to Agent Ryan carrying two large cardboard boxes and set them down next to him.

  Ryan leaned up and looked in the boxes. “Let me guess, they took all the weapons.”

  Jordan nodded. “And the ammo. The arms locker was completely empty. They thought of everything. Even the knives in the kitchen are gone. I did find a bunch of old two-way radios, but I don’t know if they work. Along with some of this other stuff that looks really old.”

  Ryan pulled one radio from the box, blew the dust off and tried to turn it on. “Dead. But the chargers are here and this was top of the line stuff back in the day. They also had battery backups so if you can find a bunch of 9-volts they might work without having to wait for a charge. Give this stuff to TV Guy and see if he can get ‘em working. Then we could actually communicate with one another if we can get out of here away from the jammer. Or find it and turn it off.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Scott started to get up but stopped. “Well, hold on a minute. I just thought of something. If we’re being jammed, and that should block all communications, why did Agent Brooks’ two-way radio work? Shouldn’t a jammer knock out everything putting out a signal?”

  “Hmmm. That’s an interesting point. Maybe it only knocks out cell phones. I don’t really know much about those things except that they’re illegal in this country.”

  “But you said that your radio was getting nothing but static.”

  “You’re right, it killed my radio but not the one Brooks had. Our two members of the geek squad might be able to figure it out. I do know these are old radios you found are analog so maybe they might be immune to the interference since the jammer is no doubt digital. Of course the point is moot if we can’t get them powered up or find batteries that aren’t dead.”

  Jordan pulled a bottle of water from the other box and handed it to Ryan. “Anyway, at least we’re not going to starve. I brought stuff to keep our energy up, and, more importantly, keep you hydrated, Agent Ryan. Plenty of drinks but all the food is freeze-dried.”

  “I’m sure it’s of the highest quality if the President was meant to eat it,” said Scott. “But some of it had more dust than the radios. So I’m gonna wait till I’m desperate.”

  Kyle stopped working on the teleprompter computer, looked over from the other room and pointed at the boxes. “Hey, speaking of food, did you guys happen to notice if there were any green or red peppers with all the dried food supplies?”

  Scott rolled his eyes. “What, you’re concerned if your petrified food will be spicy enough?”

  “No, listen. If there are the right kind of dried peppers I can mix them with alcohol which I assume we can find with the medical supplies and make tear gas.”

  Jordan’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

  “Sure. Simple chemistry. There are actually a whole bunch of weapons you can make with household stuff from your kitchen and medicine cabinet. Of course, if I can make tear gas it would help to have gas masks.”

  Scott pointed toward the back room. “There’s a whole grocery store of dried stuff back there and the medical supply room has just about anything you can think of. And I did see gas masks where they stored the weapons.”

  “Great. We also need a way to deliver it. If we can find some glass jars I can make gas grenades. Might come in handy. What do you think, Agent Ryan? Can we use something like that?”

  Ryan smiled and nodded in amazement. “Absolutely.” Kyle started to get up but Ryan stopped him. “Hold on, MacGyver, I need you to concentrate on communicating with the outside world. Florence Nightengale can start cooking up the tear gas. You give her the recipe and she can go shopping.”

  “I’m not wild about leaving you,” said Andrea. “You sure you’re okay for a while?”

  Ryan nodded. “Sure, I’ll be fine. Wingman is here. Go ahead.” He turned to Scott and cocked
his head at Kyle as Andrea got up and headed toward the back. “I’m sure glad he’s on our side.”

  “No kidding,” said Scott, just as Sydney returned and crouched down next to him.

  She took Agent Ryan’s hand. “How are you doing?”

  He grimaced a bit. “Hanging in there. Thanks to Andrea. She’ll make a great doctor. Already gets an A in bedside manner.”

  “Hey, we’ve been monitoring the news coverage and one reporter said things are progressing and should be resolved soon.”

  Ryan furrowed his brow. “Really? Seems awfully fast. Did the reporter say where the information came from?”

  “A high level source.”

  “Hell, that could mean anything. And considering the state of the news business, there’s a good chance it isn’t true. With a situation like this, the rumors fly fast and furious. And reporters often don’t care about checking their information.”

  “So, is there a chance it’s true?”

  “Maybe. But you know how often media people are wrong, so we have to proceed as if nothing has changed. I’m inclined to err on the side of caution. By the way, who was the reporter?”

  “It was Gina Collins. My dad’s favorite journalist. He says she’s always accurate.”

  “Well, that is definitely interesting. I know Gina and have seen how she gets her information and works sources. She doesn’t miss a thing. If it came from her, that tells me it’s more likely to be true than not.”

  “Do you think she has a high level source in the Secret Service?”

  “She’s old school. She’d never reveal a source.”

  “Have you ever been a source for her?”

  He shot her a little smile. “I can neither confirm nor deny—”

  Suddenly the two-way radio came alive. “I need everyone except Brooks in the conference room. Now!”

  Ryan picked up the radio and turned up the sound. “Well, sounds like things are progressing, and not in a good way for our captors. I recognize the voice. That’s Mayfair. He must be the one in charge.”

  “Is he the type to do something like this?”

  “I’d never expect any member of the Secret Service to be a traitor, but if I had to pick someone who would go off the reservation, he’d be on the list.”