End Zone

by D C Alden

Coffman faked a smile as she struggled for an answer. Wilson didn’t wait.

  ’Ma’am, when will the American people be told the truth about President Stein and his administration?’

  ‘The truth?’ Coffman echoed. Wilson hit her again.

  ’Yes, ma’am. Many of those indicted alongside the former president have yet to be charged with specific crimes. Has habeas corpus been suspended for these individuals?’

  Coffman shifted behind the podium. ‘The Attorney General will be making a statement on the issue in the near future,’ she lied.

  ‘Ma’am, on the night of the Baghdad disaster, the Northridge security contractors abandoned the embassy walls after the power was cut. Can you tell us where that order originated from?’

  Coffman’s brain reeled as cameras stuttered manically. She stared at Wilson, as did the rest of the press corps. They were electrified, hanging on his every word. Coffman knew she’d lost the room.

  ‘My administration has worked incredibly hard to steer this country through its recent problems,’ she said, struggling to control her temper. ‘Right now, what ordinary Americans need is a strong and stable government. That is the priority of my administration.’

  Coffman took a moment to sip her water, buying herself a little more time. She knew syrupy platitudes just wouldn’t cut it.

  ‘And yet you’ve asked some important questions, Mister Wilson, questions that demand answers, and to that effect I will be establishing a Select Committee that intends to fully investigate the events leading up to, and during, the Baghdad disaster. It is my absolute determination that no stone be left unturned, so we may find out the truth of what really happened both here in our nation’s capital, and in Iraq — ’

  ‘You called them true American heroes, ma’am; I’m referring of course to the Delta Force soldiers who survived Baghdad. You awarded each of them the Distinguished Service Cross for extraordinary heroism.’

  Coffman seethed. Where the fuck was her Press Secretary Jim Magee? Why wasn’t he stepping in, deflecting? He was stood to her right, but he might’ve been a thousand miles away for all the good he was doing.

  ‘That’s correct, Mister Wilson. It was an honour to meet them.’

  ’And yet there was no statement from the White House when they were all killed in a helicopter crash two months ago.’

  Another buzz rippled around the room. Reporters twisted in their chairs. Coffman boiled, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the podium. Every eyeball in the room was fixed on her, hers on Wilson’s.

  ‘Why was the Alaska crash kept secret, ma’am?’

  Coffman’s throat was drying fast. She soothed it with a sip of water.

  ‘Losing so many heroes was very difficult for me to deal with, especially so soon after Baghdad. I know many others felt the same, so it was decided to spare the American people more heartache, in the short term at least. Naturally the families were informed.’

  ‘But they didn’t all die in that helicopter crash, did they?’

  The statement hung in the air like a rancid fart. Coffman wrinkled her nose, adjusted her glasses.

  ‘I’m afraid I — ’

  ‘Two of the Baghdad survivors were not on that aircraft. In fact, they’re missing. Isn’t that the case, ma’am?’

  Curious murmurs hummed around the room. Coffman saw pens and pencils scratching furiously across notepads.

  ‘Their names are Nick Costello and Kenny Chase,’ Wilson announced for the scribblers. ‘Costello was discharged not long after Baghdad and hasn’t been seen since. Chase drove out of Fort Bragg and vanished.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure that the relevant agencies — ’

  ‘They’re not on any missing persons database, ma’am. I’ve checked. Likewise Pablo Vasquez, a homeless man from right here in the city. Vasquez was abducted from outside the Rhode Island mall three days ago after he used Kenny Chase’s ATM card. I’ve checked with every police department in the city; Vasquez was never booked in anywhere. He’s disappeared.’

  Coffman felt her eyebrow twitch, and cursed silently. Every reaction, every expression, every physical tic and change of skin tone would be analysed and debated by an insatiable media. Was President Coffman telling the truth? What did she know? What was she hiding? She was a deer caught in the headlights, transfixed, unable to move. Wilson was still driving, foot down hard, heading right for her.

  ‘A reporter named Kelly Novak was killed in a hit-and-run on an empty highway a few weeks ago. At the time of her death, Novak was investigating rumours of a conspiracy swirling around Baghdad, of State Department interference and deliberate mismanagement during the crisis. Hers is just one of many deaths that have occurred in the wake of the Baghdad disaster. Can you shed any light on these matters, ma’am?’

  Coffman opened her mouth to speak. Magee beat her to it, springing up onto the stage and leaning into the microphone.

  ‘That’s all the President has time for, thank you. Paula will now answer any questions about troop vaccinations or the operation in Vienna. Paula?’

  Magee waved the smart-suited Latino up onto the stage. Coffman stepped down, white anger pinching her face. She felt Magee’s hand on her arm, heard his voice in her ear.

  ‘Ma’am, walk away, right now. I’ll deal with this.’

  She allowed herself to be guided towards the corridor where Mulholland and Baranski waited. She stormed past them as the Briefing Room erupted in her wake. Thirty seconds later she was in the Oval Office. She waited until her Chief of Staff and National Security Advisor had closed the door behind them before giving vent to her fury.

  ‘I want that asshole’s credentials pulled, right now! I want him, and anyone else from that fucking paper of his, barred from this building!’

  Mulholland held up his hands. ‘That would be a mistake, ma’am.’

  ‘And Magee, that fucking idiot! He should’ve yanked me off that stage!’

  ‘That would’ve looked worse for you,’ Baranski told her.

  ‘Really, Karen?’ Coffman stabbed a finger at the door. ’D’you think that was a solid performance? He grilled me like a fucking prosecutor!’

  Coffman cleared her desk with a furious sweep of her hand. Papers fluttered to the carpet. She dropped into her chair and spun it towards the window. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and held it. She let it out slowly, allowing her fury to dissipate. Anger was bad for her, cancerous to critical thinking. She needed a clear head. One fact, however, was indisputable. She turned back to face the room.

  ‘Wilson knows.’

  Mulholland nodded. ‘Has to be Chase who’s talking. I did a little digging while you were up there. Novak interned at the Times, under this Wilson guy.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Assistant Managing Editor. He stood in for the Times’ regular staffer.’

  ‘Goddam him.’ Coffman’s nostrils flared, the fury still smouldering. She began chewing an exquisitely painted thumbnail, something she hadn’t done in years.

  ‘I warned you, Amy. Silencing Novak was a mistake.’

  ‘No, Erik. The mistake was allowing Chase to live.’

  ‘That was bad luck.’

  She rapped her knuckles on the antique desk. ‘How does a DC bum end up with Chase’s ATM card? What are the odds, for Chrissakes?’

  ‘Chase must’ve given it to Wilson, to use as bait,’ Baranski reasoned. ‘The whole thing smells like a set up. Wilson probably has footage.’

  ‘Where’s Vasquez now?’

  ‘Bob’s people dumped him in North Philly with a roll of cash and a pocketful of grade-A smack. I doubt he’ll make it to the holidays.’

  Coffman got to her feet, crossed the room and sat down on the couch. She swung one leg over the other and massaged the growing throb behind her temples. Mulholland and Baranski took seats opposite.

  ‘Don’t let it rattle you,’ Mulholland advised. ‘Pretty soon the press will have bigger things to write about.’

  Coffman glared at him. ‘I
s there something wrong with your hearing, Erik? Wilson just told the whole world about the Angola conspiracy and linked it to my predecessor. He practically accused me of involvement in the Baghdad thing, and now he’s talking about cover-ups and body counts.’ She pointed at the Oval Office door. ‘Did you see them in there? They were salivating over Wilson’s every word, like he was shovelling chum to a school of sharks. Every media outlet in the country will start digging. They’ll be talking about nothing else.’

  She bit her tongue as Coffman’s private secretary tapped and entered.

  ‘Madam President, Admiral Schultz would like to see you. It’s not in your diary.’

  ‘Show him in,’ Coffman ordered.

  The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs entered the room, resplendent in his black naval uniform, a white service cap tucked beneath his arm. He took a seat and waited until the thick door had closed before speaking.

  ‘I caught the whole thing on C-SPAN. Who the fuck does that guy Wilson think he is?’

  ‘A crusader,’ Coffman told him.

  ‘It’s breaking news on every channel.’

  ‘No shit.’

  ‘Well, the financial scandal cover story is toast,’ Schultz declared. ‘Angola will break sooner than we anticipated. A couple of weeks and the whole world will know about The Committee.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Coffman wrung her hands, her mind whirling. ‘Where do we stand? With Bob’s people?’

  ‘They’re in transit,’ Schultz told her. ‘Bob will let us know when they’re ready.’

  ’They need to move faster. Are we prepared? Domestically?’

  ‘Drew’s on top of it. We’re up to speed on military preparedness, fuel and food supply chains, health care, infrastructure security, border defences — ’

  ‘What about the anti-viral?’

  ‘Using the typhoid scare as cover, Kroll has shipped consignments to over four-hundred strategically important military bases in the continental United States, so the bulk of our armed forces should be immune over the next week or so. That includes our Coast Guard too. National Guard units and big city police departments are also on the distribution list, though reaching those folks may take some time.’

  Coffman glanced at her watch. ‘We need something to keep the press off our backs. Erik, talk to Jimmy, tell him to prepare a statement, one that reinforces the White House’s commitment to a full Senate investigation into Baghdad. And let’s get Moody’s widow over here for the announcement, give her the full West Wing treatment. Take the sting out of that bitch’s tail.’

  She turned to Schultz.

  ’Charlie, I want you to speak to Bob, get surveillance up on Wilson, see if we can locate Chase. And explore some options.’

  Schultz raised a white eyebrow. ‘Options?’

  ‘For Wilson. He needs to go.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Coffman got to her feet, restless. She waved the others back into their seats and crossed to the window, her eyes seeing nothing, her mind running through scenarios and outcomes. Everything was coming to a head. Her reputation had been dealt a blow by Wilson. Doubts had been raised. Her approval rating would start to plummet as rumours began to swirl around DC. There would be talk of investigations, her relationship with Stein exploited by her political opponents, and when the truth about Angola hit the streets, civil disorder would follow. That’s when it would happen, she knew.

  …Madam President, for the good of the country you’ll need to stand down…

  No.

  She crossed the room and retook her seat. ‘We’re going to release H-1 here at home,’ Coffman told them.

  Her inner circle stared back at her in stunned silence. Schultz was the first to recover. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Do I sound like I’m joking, Charlie? We need a crisis on our own soil, one that will make people forget about embassies and helicopter crashes. One that will allow us to pass emergency legislation. A crisis that will scare the living shit out of the American public.’

  ‘Ma’am, with every respect — ’

  ‘Get Bob to send a threat to State, from the GLF. They’re running out of time, patience, that sort of thing. They’re going to give us a display of their power.’

  ’A display?’

  ‘Yes, Charlie. Are you going to keep repeating everything I say?’ Schultz shook his head. ‘Good. Now, I need you to pick a city, one of little strategic or economic importance. One where the virus can be easily contained. I want the visceral, undiluted horror of H-1 beamed into every home in this country. And then we’ll come riding to the rescue. We’ll stop it dead and we’ll employ the full power of the US military to do it. It’ll be broadcast live on TV, like a Hollywood movie, and the people of this country will drop to their knees and thank us for stopping the spread and saving them. They will know that the President of the United States will do anything to protect her people.’

  Mulholland shook his head. ‘You can’t do that, Amy.’

  ‘Of course we can. And we’re going to, Erik, because who nows how long it will take for the world to fall apart. And in the meantime, this White House will be put under the microscope. I will not risk that, so revisit the emergency powers enactments. Make sure we’re prepared, from a constitutional standpoint. Am I making myself clear, Erik?’

  ‘Honestly? I don’t know if — ’

  Coffman swiped a newspaper off the coffee table and hurled it at him. Mulholland flinched as the broadsheet hit his chest and came apart in his lap.

  ‘Enough,’ she barked. ‘I’m not asking for permission, Erik. We’ve spoken about this, remember? It’s all been gamed out in the Pentagon’s Zombie Protocol, am I right Charlie?’

  Schultz nodded. ‘Absolutely, ma’am.’

  ‘Then let’s get on it.’ All three advisors got up to leave. ‘Erik, a word, please.’

  Schultz and Baranski left the room. Coffman stood up and took Mulholland’s hands in hers. ‘I’m sorry, Erik. That was unacceptable. Please accept my apology.’

  ‘You’re under pressure, I get it, but releasing the virus here? That’s just crazy.’

  Coffman squeezed his hands. ‘Think about it, Erik. People will be so frightened they’ll expect us to do everything in our power to protect them. And we will, I promise. We’re talking about a very limited outbreak, a few hundred casualties. It’s drama, Erik, pure theatre. And when it breaks around the world, on the scale that Bob has predicted, our path will be clear.’

  Mulholland nodded. ‘I see the logic Amy, but what if it spreads?’

  ‘It won’t.’

  ‘But if it does — ’

  Coffman let go of his hands. ‘Enough, Erik. Deal with it and move on. A year from now and all this will be ancient history.’

  Mulholland took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’

  ‘I can’t do this without you,’ she admitted, laying a gentle hand on his cheek. ‘You’re my rock. I need you.’

  ‘I won’t let you down,’ he told her.

  Coffman smiled and nodded. ‘I know. Now, go see the Attorney General, get a legal handle on those emergency powers. Everyone needs to be ready.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  She watched him leave the room, then her eye caught the newspaper on the carpet, the headline that warned of a simmering trade war with China.

  Coffman smiled.

  Trade would soon be the very least of Beijing’s problems.

  Black Dolphin

  Philip wheeled his new carry-on across the concourse. Marion was waiting for him in the seating area, and she smiled as he approached. He sat down next to her, casually scanning the crowds for anything unusual. The glass-domed departure lounge at Munich International Airport was bustling with travellers, holidaymakers and business people, all jetting off to a hundred different locations across the globe, but Philip saw nothing to alert him, not on the train from Vienna nor here in Munich. They were safe, he decided.

  For now.

  �
��What did you get?’

  ‘The essentials.’

  ’No present?’ Marion teased. She linked her arm through his as she leaned against his shoulder. They’d used this ruse before, two lovers entwined, oblivious to the world around them, all smiles and whispers. Yet this time the emotions were real, the words sincere.

  ‘How long until you board?’

  Marion looked up at the wide bank of departure monitors. ‘The gate’s open. I should go.’

  Philip pulled her close and pressed his lips to her cheek. ‘This is real-world, now. It will spread much faster than either of us anticipate. Make sure you recon your escape route, allow enough time to get out before things escalate.’

  Marion smiled and patted his hand. ‘Thank you for reminding me. It might’ve slipped my mind.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m being overcautious.’

  ’It’s sweet,’ she told him. Her smile faded as she searched his eyes. ‘I can take that to my grave. In case this is our last assignment.’

  Philip brushed her hair back over her ear. ‘This is the life we chose, kochanie. How many have we ourselves betrayed over the years?’

  ’You think Blake and Sorenson might cut us loose?’

  Philip shook his head. ‘I don’t, because we’ve always delivered for them. This time will be no different.’

  ‘You’re wrong, my love. This is completely different.’

  Philip pressed his lips against her ear. ‘Banish the thought and focus only on the mission. That’s your priority now.’

  Marion nodded, kissed him on the cheek and stood. Philip got to his feet and held her close.

  ‘Send word when you get to Norway. Let me know you’re safe.’

  ‘Of course.’ She disengaged and smoothed her hair. ‘Take care, Philip.’

  He watched her head towards the departure gate, wondering if he would ever see her again. They’d worked together for several years now, and were occasional lovers when circumstances allowed, and Philip had felt a certain attachment towards his former military intelligence colleague. They’d been through much together, but nothing could compare to the mission they were now embarked on, and it wasn’t only their employers who were relying on them - the future of humanity was at stake, and the responsibility for lighting the fuse had been passed to them both. Philip believed that this might be the proudest moment of his life.