He was tackled from behind and thrown to the floor. He struggled. An agent put a gun to his head as two others held him.
****
CHAPTER 35
DURING THE FIRST intermission of Long Day's Journey into Night, the President yawned and stood to stretch. To him, the actors' words had been meshing together in a mishmash of melancholy and depression. He preferred musical theater to drama. His idea of an enjoyable night out wasn't watching the thrashing of a dysfunctional family. He had enough problems meshing together in his head. Eleanor stood to stretch. He thought the play was depressing, but he would not bring it up with her. She was already acting out of sorts, and no good would come from bringing up a downbeat subject.
"I want to go to the holding room," she said.
"Some of the party people will want to chat-"
"The hell with them. I'm making a phone call to China."
"Then I'll stay here and you go."
"No. The phone call is from Beijing. The cultural affairs person. I may need you to get on the line with me for a moment to convince them that I am representing your interests."
"Oh, for God's sake-"
"Please."
He shrugged. "Very well."
She took his arm as they moved past the other guests.
"I've had a migraine headache all day," Eleanor said as they walked out to the hallway. Two agents followed.
"I noticed you fidgeting in your seat. I thought it was the play."
"So depressing."
"Family situations can get like that, can't they?"
"Is that some kind of a personal dig?"
"Aren't we sensitive. The headache. Have you talked with the doctor?"
"I have pills, but they don't seem to do any good," she said coldly. "I just hope I can make it through the rest of this play."
They entered the elevator with the agents, who looked uncomfortable and avoided eye contact. The doors closed. The elevator descended. They got out and followed other agents to the holding room. An agent opened the door for them.
"Russell, do you remember what you told me that day we were sitting on that lovely verandah in St. Bart's?" she asked when they were alone.
"I remember the view-"
She glanced at her wristwatch.
"We'd been lounging there in the sun for hours. Your exact words were: 'It's the two of us forever, baby.' You used to call me baby. Then you said something very sweet. You told me that you would never disappoint me and that you would always be there for me. It was what I'd always wanted to hear."
"We were a beautiful couple, weren't we?" the President said.
She reached up and touched his face gently.
"You used to touch my face like that all the time, Eleanor. I miss it."
"We were a sexy couple, all right."
"You're making me wish you didn't have a headache," he said.
"A quick screw for old times' sake? How merciful of you."
"There you go again," he said grimly.
"Does she say things like that?"
"Can't we at least try to be civil to one another?"
"We've come a long way together. You were my man. I loved you. I used to dream about us being in the White House."
"They should have given you a part in that damn play."
There was a silence, and he wondered what it would have been like to marry a woman less demanding, one who wasn't so emasculating. Maybe things could have worked out, he told himself. But that was all over now. He had but one life to live, and the rest of it wasn't going to be with her.
"I know why you won't look me in the eyes," she said. "You can fool your Cabinet members, the entire House and Senate, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the American people. But you can't fool your wife. You used me. It was nothing but a means to an end with a piece of ass thrown in. You seduced me because I had something you wanted."
"Eleanor, why do you persist in this self-torture?"
"Russell Jordan, President of the United States. What a damn joke. You're a nothing. A big zero. You'd be nothing without me."
"None of us are perfect, Eleanor."
"That sounds like a preface for some speech. Some of that insincere blather you're so good at spouting."
"You're a very demanding woman, Eleanor."
"I'm the woman you needed."
"True. But things would have been a lot easier if you hadn't rubbed my nose in it every day since we got married."
She gave him a glare he'd never seen before. She was looking through him.
"Is the truth that difficult to accept? When you look in the mirror, does it hurt to know that you couldn't have made it to this place without me? All I asked in return was to be your partner. But I guess that was too much."
"Drop it, for Christ's sake. Let's end all this."
She glanced at her wristwatch.
"It's ended," she said.
There was a tone of finality to her words, like the last remark made from the window of a train as it pulled away from the station; the final shout from the last fan at the end of the ninth inning.
"I'll be right back," she said.
"Where are you going?"
"The rest room."
"Okay. Do you feel all fight? You're acting a little strange."
There was a knock on the door, and then it came open. It was Agent Squires.
"Mr. President, we have a security problem-"
"Don't bother us," Eleanor said.
"This won't wait."
"Go away!"
"What is it?" the President said.
Squires walked in and closed the door.
"We just apprehended Pete Garrison. He claims there is a bomb planted somewhere in this building that is set to go off at 9:15."
"Where is Wintergreen?"
The door came open. Wintergreen rushed in. Squires grabbed his arm.
"Mr. Director, Garrison says there is a bomb-"
"I'm aware."
Wintergreen turned to Jordan.
"Mr. President, this building is bomb free. But to be extra safe, I think it best that you remain here for a few minutes while we search the Presidential box."
Squires got a pained look on his face.
"What's wrong?" Jordan said staring at him.
"Garrison said that Director Wintergreen planted the bomb."
Eleanor furrowed her brow. "Surely you don't believe your own Director could be involved in anything like that."
"Wintergreen was here after the bomb dogs had finished," Squires said. "Garrison said Agent Flanagan is also involved. And I can't find him. He also said the First Lady was behind it. I recommend that we evacuate the building."
"Bring Garrison here," Eleanor said.
"Why?"
"I'll get the truth out of him."
"If there is a bomb-"
"Russell. Tell him."
"Do as she says, Agent."
"Is that an order?"
"Do as she says. I'll straighten this out myself."
Squires departed.
"What the hell is going on, Eleanor?"
"Garrison is trying to confuse everyone. You'll look foolish if you go running out of here and this turns out to be a false alarm. The press will have a field day. It'll be like the time President Nixon canceled a trip to New Orleans because of uncorroborated threat information. He regretted it until the day he left office. Don't let them do this to you. It would he a humiliation."
Jordan stared at her and, for the first time, he saw a different person than the one he'd married. He saw their deal, their connection, and he saw everything that they had done to one another, and his knees suddenly went weak.
Squires pushed the door open. He and two other agents had Garrison between them, handcuffed.
"Mr. President, the First Lady paid Larry Wintergreen to kill you," Garrison said. "She had him plant a bomb here."
"Sit down, Pete," Eleanor said condescendingly. "I'll call a doctor for you. You'll feel better after you talk to hi
m."
"It's almost 9:15," Garrison said. "Give the evacuation order! Your life depends on it!"
"If Eleanor knew there is a bomb here, why would she be with me right now?" Jordan asked.
"Because it would look odd for her to have remained at the White House. She was covering herself "
Jordan turned to Eleanor, and then looked coldly back at Garrison.
Eleanor glanced at her wristwatch.
"Did you see that?" Garrison shouted. "She just checked her watch. The bomb must be set to go off in here. It's right here in this room!"
Eleanor's eyes were wide. "He's insane."
The red phone rang. Squires picked up the receiver.
"Agent Squires...yes. Okay." His jaw dropped and he dropped the receiver. "That was Agent Kallenstien. Martha Breckinridge just told her Flanagan was the one who tried to kill her."
Squires dropped the phone and faced Wintergreen with his hand on his gun.
Eleanor moved toward the door.
"Stop her," Jordan said.
She reached for the door handle. Squires grabbed her arm.
"We're all going to stay right here until the intermission is over," Jordan said.
Eleanor blinked rapidly, her eyes on Wintergreen.
"Do something!" she shrieked hysterically.
Wintergreen reached for his gun. Garrison kicked it out of his hand.
"Evacuate the building!" Squires shouted into his microphone.
Eleanor pulled the door open and ran. Wintergreen ran after her.
Squires shoved the President into the adjoining room. Garrison and the other agents followed.
A sudden, blinding flash of light and a detonation crack flattened them on the shuddering cement floor. Shredded chucks of plaster and wood blew outward from the holding room with such force that across the street at the Watergate apartment units, windows and mirrors cracked. In the next second, spent debris and glass could be heard falling. Shouts came from inside the auditorium. Fire alarms sounded.
As fire and smoke billowed from the holding room door, Squires asked the President if he was okay. He said he was. Squires helped the President to his feet.
"Stay close to us," Squires said. "We're getting the hell out of here."
The President turned to Squires. "Remove his handcuffs."
Squires complied. Automatic sprinklers began spraying from above. The other agents shoved debris away from the door.
"Find her, Garrison," Jordan said. "No one is to know."
"I understand."
Squires and the other agents rushed out of the room and down the hall with the President. Garrison began looking through a demolished hallway and main lobby that was filling with smoke as frightened playgoers were running from the theater.
Garrison pushed his way through the crowd following the rubble-strewn hallway. He figured Eleanor and Wintergreen must have run toward the stairwell leading to the garage where the spare limousine was parked.
To his right, next to the wall adjoining the holding room, he saw a hand sticking out from under a shredded door. The explosive charge emanating from inside the holding room had blown out a wall and door. Eleanor and Wintergreen had been killed by it, their bodies lying askew among the debris. They'd made the wrong turn. It had just been bad luck. Garrison shoved the debris away, freeing her. But she didn't move. He knelt by her. She was ashen, her lips colorless. As people screamed and ran past, Garrison touched her cheek and her eyes opened.
"Pete?"
"Help is coming."
"I hate him...."
"Don't talk," he whispered gently.
She coughed, sputtering blood. She met his eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.
Her eyes remained frozen open.
****
CHAPTER 36
GARRISON WENT TO the White House and briefed the President, who was visibly shaken. He remained in the Oval Office with him as the White House Chief of Staff and the Attorney General arrived. The President told Garrison to remain close by. He did so, leaving the Oval office for a few minutes to go downstairs to the Secret Service command post where he went to his locker and changed into a fresh suit.
During the rest of the night, the White House was a flurry of activity. As the news of the bombing spread worldwide, military drivers sped around D.C. transporting Cabinet members and other close confidants of the President to the White House. When they arrived, Garrison led them to the Oval office, where the President held a short meeting, soliciting advice on how to proceed. The announcement of the deaths of both the First Lady and Director Wintergreen was made by Presidential Press Secretary Elmore Banks at three A.M., causing all the television anchorpersons in the country to rush to their respective broadcast stations.
At five A.M., the White House stewards brought breakfast to the President's advisors. The President asked Garrison to join him in the State Dining Room. Garrison followed him inside, and the President asked Garrison exactly what he'd said to Joe Kretchvane about the conspiracy. Garrison recounted his conversation in detail.
The President picked up the phone.
"This is the President. Get Joe Kretchvane on the line." He set the receiver down. "You will apologize to Kretchvane and tell him that you were working undercover against Flanagan. Tell him you were following my orders. Then put me on the phone."
The phone rang.
Garrison spoke with Kretchvane, gave him the story as the President had requested, then handed the phone over.
The President and Kretchvane spoke for a half hour. Then the President returned to the Oval Office.
An hour later, Garrison led the President down a shiny corridor to the White House Press Briefing Room. Opening the door a few inches, he peeked inside. Every seat was filled and people were sitting on the floor, standing along the walls. At a podium back-dropped by a deep blue curtain with a White House emblem in the middle, Press Secretary Elmore Banks, a balding well-fed man who'd been with the President since the first campaign, shuffled through some papers preparing to speak.
"If everyone will be quiet, please," Banks said. The murmuring in the room diminished. "A preliminary joint FBI and U.S. Secret Service investigation of the bomb incident at the Kennedy Center has been completed. It has been established that the explosive used was military-grade C-4, the same type of explosive material used to bomb the Ronald Reagan Federal Building. We believe that the target of the bomb was President Jordan. When the bomb detonated, the First Lady and the President were in what is referred to as a 'holding room,' where the President was making some official telephone calls during the intermission. The explosion killed both the First Lady and U.S. Secret Service Director Larry Wintergreen. So far, no suspects have been developed, but the modus operandi is believed to be similar to certain terrorist groups that are known to the government. There will be no public statements made by the task forces that are investigating, and a blue-ribbon commission has been appointed by the President to assemble all the data and make required policy from the incident. National Security Advisor Helen Pierpont will chair that commission. The investigation itself will be conducted by agents of the United States Secret Service."
"Are you saying this is the work of the Aryan Disciples?" asked reporter Carolyn Ude from the Los Angeles Times.
"There are a number of similarities between this bombing and previous Aryan Disciples bombings, and it has been determined that one low-level Secret Service official, Gilbert L. Flanagan, may have been involved in planting the bomb. We are quite certain that he was the only Secret Service employee involved. But, as I said, an investigation is under way. It wouldn't be appropriate for me to comment further at this point."
"Joe Kretchvane is reporting that a reliable government source told him that Flanagan was the only government insider involved and that he may have been co-opted by the Aryan Disciples. Is that true?"
"I don't want to either confirm or deny such information at this stage."
"Wouldn't there have to be
Secret Service involvement for a bomb to have been planted in an area secured earlier by the Secret Service?"
"That would be a safe assumption. The preliminary investigation indicates that Secret Service agents found the device shortly before the detonation occurred. Director Wintergreen lost his life trying to get the First Lady to safety. I'm not going to go any further right now because I don't want to taint the investigation."
Photographers jockeyed for position in the front row, shoving and pushing each other as Banks blinked at a barrage of camera flashes. Then he glanced toward Garrison and gave a nod. "At this time, the President will make a brief prepared statement. Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States."
Banks moved back a few feet.
Moving past Garrison amid the sound of a hundred camera clicks, the President walked to the podium. A hush came over the crowd. The President took out a note card and placed it in front of him.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. The flag of our nation stands at half-staff and I bear the greatest personal loss of my life. I wish to remind all of you, my fellow citizens, that the United States of America - our democracy, our institutions, and our Constitution - are bigger than any crisis the country has ever been forced to endure. No matter what happens to those who hold political office, our nation's principles as a shrine to freedom remain intact. We are, truly, a nation of laws, not men. Let the word go out to our enemies: No amount of violence, not even a hundred such cowardly acts, can cause us to fear you. In her death, Eleanor Hollingsworth Jordan, a great American and a loving wife, and a fighter for freedom, has vanquished you."
The President cleared his throat, and then took a sip of water. Garrison thought his eyes looked watery. "We also mourn the loss of Director Lawrence Wintergreen of the U.S. Secret Service, a man who gave his all to fulfill his sworn duty....
After the press conference, Garrison and the President walked to the Oval Office. The President stopped at the open door. He looked tired and chastened and there was a deep melancholy in his eyes.
"Pete, I'm appointing you as the new agent in charge of White House Detail."
"Thank you. Mr. President."
"No matter what happens, I'll expect Eleanor's role in all this to remain between you and me. Forever."
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