Act of Treason

54

WHITE HOUSE, WASHINGTON, DC

K ennedy clutched her purse in one hand and the President’s Daily Brief in the other. She’d lost count how many times she’d delivered the PDB to President Hayes, but it probably averaged out to four days a week for the past two years. The PDB was essentially a highly classified newspaper that was prepared by the CIA’s Office of Current Production and Analytical Support. President Hayes read the document every morning, as well as several newspapers.

Kennedy stopped outside the president’s private dining room and smiled at the Secret Service agent standing post. The director of the CIA had not slept well, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Rapp. By the time she went to bed, he was at the airport preparing to take off. Green’s penthouse had been scrubbed clean and the bodies disposed of. She had other things on her mind. Everything had to work perfectly or she could make an already pathetic situation worse. The hardest part had been placing her trust in several individuals. Individuals who carried badges and had sworn an oath to uphold the law and protect and defend the constitution. What she had to offer them was justice. There was no doubt about it. The alternative was to go public and watch America descend into suspicion and chaos.
Kennedy knocked on the door once and entered. President Hayes was sitting at his private dining table. He was in a white dress shirt and tie, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. As always he had his four newspapers: The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Washington Times, and USA Today. Each paper was folded in quarters, two on the left and two on the right. Carl, the president’s Navy steward, arranged them just so, every morning.
“Irene,” the president said, rising slowly, “I think this is going to be one of the things I’ll miss most about this job.”
Irene could hear someone working in the pantry right around the corner. “You mean Carl’s cooking?”
The president laughed. “What’s so hard about a bowl of blueberries and half a grapefruit?”
Carl came around the corner with a plate in hand and said, “It is not my fault you have turned into a health nut.” He set the plate down in-between the president’s perfectly folded newspapers. Then, ignoring the commander in chief, he turned to Kennedy and in a much nicer tone asked, “How are you doing this morning, Director Kennedy?”
“Fine, Carl, and you?”
“Counting the minutes until he is gone.” The Filipino steward jerked his head toward Hayes.
“It won’t be the same, will it?”
“Yes, very sad. I remember once I had an abscessed tooth pulled. I was equally upset to see it go.”
The president laughed. He loved ribbing and being ribbed by Carl.
“What would you like to eat this morning?” Carl asked Kennedy. “And please don’t order the other half of his grapefruit.”
That was exactly what Kennedy had been about to do, but she didn’t want to disappoint Carl. “How about an omelet?”
“The best you have ever had.”
Carl disappeared down the hall and into the pantry. Kennedy turned to face the president. She handed him the PDB.
Hayes took it, and held it for a second. Then looking at Kennedy he said, “I’ve never been one to live life with regrets. Even more so since the Parkinson’s.”
“It is one of your most admirable qualities, sir.”
“Well, as Carl said, the minutes are ticking away, and they’ve got me running crazy today so I don’t want to forget to tell you how much you’ve meant to me.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I mean it, Irene. You have given me nothing but wise and measured council during some very difficult times. I’m going to miss having breakfast with you every morning.” Hayes opened his arms and gave Kennedy a big hug.
When they parted she said, “I’ll have to visit you in Ohio. Maybe I can bring Carl.”
They both laughed while they took their seats at the table. Carl brought Kennedy some tea and refilled the president’s coffee. The president skimmed the PDB, but his heart wasn’t in it. With a little more than a day left in office there wasn’t much he could do. Besides, there was something else on his mind.
“So, you’re sure it was Ross and Garret who planted that smear piece with the Times?”
“Yes,” Kennedy said with absolute confidence.
“He called late yesterday.”
“Who?” Kennedy asked even though she knew.
“Ross. He said he’d like to bury the hatchet with me.”
“That’s good?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“You should follow your instincts.”
Hayes looked out the window with a troubled expression.
“What does he want to talk about?”
“A pardon of some sort.” Hayes turned his attention back to Kennedy and said, “And you.”
Kennedy feigned surprise. “Me?”
“Yes. He claims he may have been wrong about you.”
“That’s interesting.” Kennedy knew all about the meeting, knew that Ross and Stokes were going to ask for a pardon, but she didn’t know that she was going to be dragged into it so directly.
“Yes,” Hayes said skeptically. “I think he’s up to something.”
“Probably. Would you like me to join you?”
Hayes thought about it and nodded. “I don’t want any backstabbing on my last day. If he has anything he’d like to say, he can say it with you in the room.”
“Good.”
Kennedy’s omelet arrived browned to perfection. Hayes was a fast eater, and Kennedy was a light eater. Kennedy had made the decision not to tell Hayes what they had learned. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, it was that he had given so much, seen so much, that he deserved to leave office unburdened by what they were about to do.
Kennedy heard footfalls coming from the Oval Office behind her and turned to see Jack Warch, the deputy director of the United States Secret Service, entering the dining room.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Hayes said.
“Good morning, Mr. President, Director Kennedy.” Warch stopped at the side of the table. “How are you feeling on your last day?”
“I still have tomorrow.”
“Last full day?” Warch had served as the special agent in charge of Hayes’s detail for the first three years.
“I feel good.”
“Fantastic.” Warch clapped his hands together. “With your permission, I’d like to accompany you and the First Lady back to your home in Ohio tomorrow.”
Hayes looked touched. “You don’t have to do that, Jack.”
“I know I don’t, sir. I want to.”
“That would be great. I’d really like that, and I know the First Lady will appreciate it.”
“It’ll be my pleasure. Now I hate to break up your breakfast, but Lorie asked me to tell you that the attorney general and vice president–elect are ready when you are, though before you meet with them, I need to go over a few things with you.”
Kennedy set her napkin on the table. “I’ll leave you two alone and ask Lorie to send in the attorney general and V.P. Ross.”
“Are you sure?” the president asked.
“Absolutely. We don’t want you playing catch-up on your last full day.”
“Thank you,” Hayes smiled.
Kennedy grabbed her purse and her cup of tea and started down the short hallway from the president’s private dining room to the Oval Office. On the left was the pantry. Kennedy stopped and said, “Carl, the omelet was fantastic. Thank you.”
“Oh…you are always welcome.”
“Would you please do me a favor and set up coffee service for two and maybe some water in the Oval?”
“Absolutely.”
Kennedy continued down the hallway through the Oval Office and into the outer office where the president’s administrative assistants were located.
“Good morning, Lorie.”
“Good morning, Director Kennedy.”
“Would you please send the attorney general and Vice President–elect Ross in.”
Kennedy went back into the Oval Office. The setup was always the same. Two arm chairs were in front of the fireplace and two long sofas stretched out taking up the majority of that side of the room. In between the sofas was a fairly large glass coffee table. There was a pecking order when it came to the seating arrangement in the Oval Office. The president always sat in the chair to the right of the fireplace. The chair to the left was reserved for the vice president, a visiting head of state, or in a less formal setting, anyone the president offered the chair to. Kennedy doubted the president would offer the chair to Ross. He simply didn’t like the man well enough. That meant Ross would sit on the couch closest to the president. Stokes would likely sit next to him.
Carl appeared with the coffee service and set it in the middle of the glass table.
“I’ll be back with the water in a moment.”
“Thank you.” Kennedy was wearing a black pant suit. The jacket had three buttons down the front and two small pockets on either side. Kennedy tugged on the bottom of the jacket to straighten it and patted each pocket for a last check.
Ross entered the office first. There was a flash of surprise on his face, but he quickly covered it up with a phony smile.
“Irene,” he said as he walked across the room, “what a pleasant surprise.” The vice president–elect extended his hand across the coffee table.
Kennedy took it. “Good morning, Mr. Vice President.”
“Not for another day.” Ross wagged his finger playfully at Kennedy.
“Irene,” Attorney General Stokes said.
“Good morning, Martin.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here this morning,” Ross said, his voice void of any obvious malice.
“I was having breakfast with the president. He got hung up with something, so he asked me to keep you two company for a few minutes.” Kennedy pointed at the couch behind the two men. “Sit. May I get either of you coffee?” Kennedy had sat through countless meetings with both men and she couldn’t remember a time where either had said no.
“Sure,” said Ross as he lowered himself into the spot closest to the president’s chair.
Stokes set his briefcase on the floor and said, “Please.”
Kennedy reached out to grab a cup, her hand hovering over the top of it for a second. Looking across at Ross she said, “Cream and sugar, right?”
“Yes.”
Kennedy placed the cup on top of a saucer and filled it three quarters to the top with coffee. She then added cream and a cube of sugar before stirring it thoroughly. She set the spoon on the tray and placed the cup and saucer directly into Ross’s hands.
“Thank you.” Ross blew on the coffee for a second and then took a sip.
Kennedy poured Stokes a cup and slid it across as Carl returned with a crystal pitcher of water and four glasses. He set them on the table next to the coffee service and left.
Kennedy looked at Stokes and said, “I assume your people are happy with the information we put together on Gazich?” She took an empty glass of water and filled it to the top.
“Are you kidding me? The guy is as good as fried.”
“Good.”
Ross took another drink of coffee and said, “Any luck running down the financial leads?”
“No.” Kennedy frowned. “I’m afraid we ran into a wall there.”
“I thought you were pretty confident that you were going to make a connection?” Ross sounded a bit let down.
It took all the composure Kennedy could marshal just to sit in the same room with the man. To have to watch him fake concern was nearly unbearable. “More than anything, we floated that to see if we could spook some potential suspects into making a stupid move.” She took another sip of her water and then placed it on the table with both hands.
“That’s too bad,” Ross said with a disappointed voice. “But great work on tracking that other guy down.”
President Hayes entered the room with his suit jacket on. Carl closed the door behind him, and the other door to where the administrative assistants sat was also closed. “Sorry I’m late, gentlemen.”
Ross, Stokes, and Kennedy stood. Hayes marched over with his large coffee mug in hand.
“So how is everyone feeling today?” Hayes asked in an upbeat voice.
“Fine, sir,” Ross answered.
Kennedy kept her focus on Ross as the president and Stokes exchanged pleasantries. Hayes extended his coffee mug and asked Kennedy to top him off. She picked up the pot and filled his mug.
“Sit,” Hayes said. “So what can I help you gentlemen with this morning? Let me guess. Someone wants a pardon.”
“You are very astute, Mr. President,” Ross said with a big smile.
Kennedy saw perspiration beginning to form on Ross’s forehead.
“Before we get to that, though, I would like to apologize to Irene.”
Kennedy wondered where the snake could possibly be going with this.
Ross looked directly across the table at her. “I was wrong to doubt you over an article written by a reporter with an obvious ax to grind.”
“Thank you,” Kennedy lied in her most congenial tone.
“And I have spoken to Josh, and he has agreed that it would be a good idea for you to stay on as director of the CIA for as long as you’d like.”
“That’s great news,” President Hayes said with genuine relief.
Kennedy watched Ross reach up and tug on his shirt collar. His forehead was really beginning to shine, just as Juarez had told her it would.
“Irene,” President Hayes said, “do you have anything you’d like to say?”
Kennedy had a lot she’d like to say, but she didn’t want to spoil her very well rehearsed plan. Continuing the charade, she said, “I would be honored to serve your administration, Vice President Ross.”
“Good,” Ross said as he tugged at his collar. He blinked once and gave his head a quick shake. “Now about this pardon business.” He shook his head again and rubbed his eyes. “We have managed to get everybody at Justice who matters to sign off on this thing, which will really help insulate you from any fallout.” Ross stopped abruptly and took in a deep breath.
“Are you feeling all right?” asked Hayes.
“I’m not sure.”
Kennedy seized her opportunity. She reached across the table and handed Ross her glass. “Here, have some water.”
Ross eagerly grabbed the glass and took several large gulps.
Kennedy watched with a kind of analytical detachment. Juarez had explained how it would work. The drug that she had dropped into his coffee was designed to increase heart rate and bring on nausea, but more importantly it was designed to mask the second drug. The one that she had slipped into her own water glass after taking several sips. Unknown to all but a few, the Secret Service had a tiny camera in the ceiling of the Oval Office. It was for security reasons. Everything was taped unless the president specifically asked for the system to be turned off. This morning Kennedy wanted it on.
Ross took a few more sips of water and then looked at the president. His breathing seemed labored. “I think it’s my heart. I have a bad heart.” Suddenly he seemed to wilt. The water glass dropped from his hands, tumbling to the carpeted floor and spilling.
The president was out of his chair, coming to Ross’s aid. He grabbed him by the shoulders.
Ross looked across at Kennedy. His breathing was really shallow. “No one knows. I have a bad heart.”
I do, Kennedy thought to herself without an ounce of guilt. She stood and moved quickly to the door, fully aware that she must keep up the proper appearance. She yanked it open and yelled, “We have a medical emergency! Get the doctor up here and grab the defibrillator!”
Kennedy hustled back to the sitting area. Ross was slumped forward in Hayes’s arms. “Let’s get him on the floor,” Kennedy yelled as she grabbed the end of the coffee table and dragged it from between the two couches.
Hayes and Stokes grabbed Ross and laid him on the floor. Kennedy picked up the fallen water glass and stood over the vice president–elect for a moment until she was forced to back away as the first agents arrived. The room was filling up with people fast. Kennedy looked over and saw Carl standing in the doorway that led to the president’s private dining room. Special Agent Warch appeared at his side just as they had planned. He pointed at the coffee table and said something to Carl. The fastidious Navy steward hurried over to the table and began clearing the dishes as more and more bodies piled into the room. With a steady hand Kennedy set the water glass on Carl’s tray and walked around the couch on the left to retrieve her purse. The doctor arrived a half minute later and yelled for everyone to clear the room. Kennedy took one last look at Ross’s pale face and left the Oval Office.