Reginald Cook - Veil

“Mr. President, I’m sure…”

“You tried to have me killed, you bastard!”

“Mr. President, it wasn’t me. It…”

“Don’t deny it Edward. Your friends in the Middle East gave us all the details. Suraya was especially accommodating. He says you hired the death squad. Something about oil, remember? Vernon verified everything.”

Edward looked at Vernon. The Director smiled.

“Mr. President, there’s been a mistake.”

“Yes, not taking care of you a long time ago.” Edward hung his head, closed his eyes, and took a long, deep breath.

“You’ve got me, Mr. President. I admit my intentions concerning the oil, but I did not hire anybody to kill you.”

“What about President Kennedy, Edward? What about him?” Edward looked at the empty casket. “I have no knowledge of President Kennedy’s killers or conspirators, Mr. President. I’m just as curious as you. I wanted to find the truth.” President Claymore didn’t answer.

“Mr. President. Sir. Mr. President.”

“Listen, you self-serving son of a bitch,” snapped the President.

“You took something this country will never get back. You didn’t pull the trigger, but you killed him just the same.” Edward gritted his teeth. “Sir, the country was never that innocent, and neither was Kennedy.”

“No, Edward. No he wasn’t. But whatever he was, he didn’t deserve assassination.”

“Who deserves to die is a question for those who have power over life and death, Mr. President. Those in power decide. Who are we to criticize? Who are we to complain?”

“Edward, I have no hope for men such as you, but life and death are God’s decisions.”

“Men are instruments of God, sir.”

More silence.

“Goodbye Edward. I hope hell holds the answers for you.” The phone went dead and Edward handed it back to Vernon. So I won’t get the oil fields. So what.

“I’m going to my office, Vernon. Remember, you’ve disappointed me, and I won’t forget it.”

Edward tried to force his way past the agents but was pushed back.

He spun around, angry. Vernon pointed a gun at his head. “Leave us,” the Director said, calm and matter-of-fact.

“Vernon, what’s going on?”

The men left. Vernon steadied his aim. “Don’t look so surprised Edward. You played the game and lost. You know the rules better than anyone. In this game losers die.”

“You were there too! You’re as guilty as I am!”

“True,” said Vernon. “Life’s a bitch, huh?” Edward watched Vernon’s finger flex back on the trigger. He saw a flash, and something burned in his throat. He grabbed at it with both hands, elbows out, and dropped to his knees, choking and struggling for air.

He looked up at Vernon, pleading, begging. The gun discharged again, and the bullet tore through his skull.

He saw his father and grandfather, standing in a fog just a few feet away. Edward reached out for them, but they turned their backs.

You’ve failed.

“Hey partner, ready to get started?” a jovial voice asked.

Andre looked up from the control board. Jeff Christian, his partner in the control room, looked down with a big country grin.

“More than ready,” said Andre. “And you’re late.”

“All that good lovin’ at home has a man hooked. You know, newlywed stuff?” He winked at Andre, slapped him on the back and laughed, a gesture the Russian hated.

“I know what you mean, but you better get your butt in gear.”

“Hey, if I’m gonna get fired, good lovin’s just as good a reason as any.

Anything exciting going on so far?

“No, but I see our new Justice is settling in.”

“I’ll say. They say she got here at six this morning. Surprised everyone. Captain Reasons counseled her on calling when she wants to come in early. They all do it when they first start. Eagerness, I guess.”

“I guess,” echoed Andre. “Any changes to her schedule?”

“Yes. I picked up The Watcher on my way down.” The Watcher, a daily report circulated to security throughout the building, outlined the details of every Justice’s schedule.

“It says Justice Patrick will be leaving for a luncheon at Georgetown University and be back here late this evening. But it hasn’t been confirmed. We’ll get a final update to the report soon.” Andre grimaced, then caught himself. If she intends on keeping that lunch date, she’s sadly mistaken..

“Where’s she now?”

At an orientation with the Chief Justice, then back to her office to unpack.”

The phone rang, Jeff answered, and from all the yes sirs and his respectful tone, Andre knew Captain Reasons was on the other end of the line. Jeff hung up. “Captain’s on his way down. He wanted to make sure you were here. Said it’s important, and for you to stay until he arrives.”

The fax machine buzzed, and paper filled the tray.

“Really,” said Andre, his heart pounding. “Wonder what that’s all about?”

“Probably wants to give you a raise, promotion, and use of Air Force One.” Jeff laughed so hard his face turned red. “I guess I really better start coming in early, good lovin’ or not.” Andre laughed. Have I been found out? How? Who? He took the fax from the tray and read it. It’s the revised schedule. She’s in her chambers.

The door opened and Captain Reasons bounded in, all smiles and backslaps.

“Tom my boy,” he exclaimed. “Good news. Wanted to tell you myself.”

Jeff pretended to focus on the screens in front of him. Andre mustered an inquisitive look. “Good news, sir?”

“Yes. It seems they want a new face over at the White House.

Someone with electronic surveillance experience. I sent your file over and they’re reviewing it. The Secret Service wants you over there right away for screening and questioning. So pack up and move out.”

“The White House,” Jeff exclaimed. “No kidding?” Captain Reasons glared at Jeff. “And I’ll be talking to you later about getting here on time. This isn’t a Burger King we’re guarding.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Andre interrupted. “But I’m not interested in working at the White House. This assignment suits me just fine.” Captain Reasons looked puzzled. “Now, son, every officer in this core wants to work the White House. It’s the Big Show. I know you might be a bit nervous, but relax. I’ve got a good feeling about you.” Andre knew his old friends at the KGB would’ve busted a gut at the scene. However, his cover wasn’t good enough to withstand a White House screening.

“I understand that sir, but working for you is just fine for awhile.” The Captain smiled. “Tom, I’m flattered, but I’ll never get there if I don’t send over the best people when requested. Now get your stuff and get moving. That’s an order.”

Andre felt the dagger he’d brought with him, press up against his stomach, and the weight of his gun on his side. Perspiration dotted his upper lip. He slid his hand down to his side, next to his government issued automatic.

“Something’s happening at door SC5,” snapped Jeff, pressing buttons on the control board.

The 27” screen above them switched from a hall shot to SC5, the buildings front entrance.

Andre watched Robert and Thorne argue with the guards, trying to get inside. Jeff activated the hidden microphones and turned up the volume.

“We need to see Justice Patrick right away! Tell her it’s Robert Veil and Thorne, and you need to contact her immediately!”

“Calm down, sir, calm down. I need you and the lady to step over to the side,” a guard told them.

“We don’t have time, goddammit,” yelled Thorne. “Get your asses in gear and call her now!”

“Gun,” screamed one of the guards, pointing to Thorne. “Both of you down on the floor!” They disarmed Thorne.