Дэвид Балдаччи - Absolute Power

The President stood up and fingered his coffee cup. “Is there any way to find him? Quickly?”

“There are always ways. How fast I don’t know.”

“So if we ignore his communication?”

“He may do nothing, just hightail it and take his chances.”

“But again we’re confronted with the possibility of the police catching up to him—”

“And him spilling his guts,” Burton finished the sentence. “Yeah, that’s a possibility. A real possibility.”

The President picked up the photo. “With only this to back up his story.” He looked incredulous. “Why bother?”

“It’s not the incriminating value of what’s in the photo per se that bothers me.”

“What bothers you is that his accusations coupled with whatever ideas or leads the police can develop from the photo might make for some very uncomfortable questions.”

“Something like that. Remember, it’s the allegations that can kill you. You’re up for reelection. He probably sees that as an ace for him. Bad press can be just as deadly to you right now.”

The President pondered for a moment. Nothing, no one would interfere with his reelection. “Buying him off is no good, Burton. You know that. So long as Graham’s around, he’s dangerous.” Richmond looked over at Russell, who had sat the entire time, hands in her lap, eyes pointed down. His eyes bored into her. So weak.

The President sat down at his desk and started to sift through some papers. He said dismissively, “Do it, Burton, and do it soon.”

Frank looked at the wall clock, went over and shut his door and picked up the phone. His head still ached, but the doctors predicted a full recovery.

The phone was answered. “D.C. Executive Inn.”

“Room 233 please.”

“Just a moment.”

The seconds dragged by and Frank started to get anxious. Jack was supposed to be in his room.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“So how’s life?”

“Better than yours, I bet.”

“How’s Kate?”

“She’s out on bail. Got ’em to let her go into my custody.”

“I’m sure she’s thrilled.”

“That wasn’t the word I was thinking of. Look, it’s getting close to shit-or-get-off-the-pot time. Take my advice and run like hell. You’re wasting valuable time right now.”

“But Kate—”

“Come on, Jack, they’ve got the testimony of one guy who was trying to hit her up for an exclusive. His word against hers. Nobody else even saw you. It’s a slam dunk she’ll beat that charge. A slam dunk. I’ve talked to the Assistant U.S. Attorney. He’s looking seriously at dropping the whole case.”

“I don’t know.”

“Goddammit, Jack. Kate is gonna come out of this a whole helluva lot better than you are if you don’t start thinking about your future. You’ve got to get out of here. That’s not just me talking. That’s her too.”

“Kate?”

“I saw her today. We don’t agree on much, but on that we do.”

Jack relaxed, then let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, so where do I go and how do I get there?”

“I get off duty at nine. At ten o’clock I’ll be at your room. Have your bags packed. I’ll take care of the rest. In the meantime, stay put.”

Frank hung up the phone and took a deep breath. The chances he was taking. It was better not to think about them.

Jack checked his watch and looked at the single bag on the bed. He wouldn’t be running with much. He looked at the TV set in the corner but there wouldn’t be anything on he cared to watch. Suddenly thirsty, he pulled some change from his pocket, opened the door to his room and peered out. The drink machine was just down the hallway. He plopped on his baseball cap, donned his Coke-bottle glasses and slipped out. He didn’t hear the door to the stairwell at the other end of the hallway open. He had also forgotten to lock his door.

When he slipped back in, it struck him that the light was off. He had left it on. As his hand hit the switch, the door was slammed shut behind him and he was thrown onto the bed. As he quickly rolled over and his eyes adjusted to the light, the two men came into focus. They were not wearing masks this time, which spoke volumes in itself.

Jack started to lunge forward but twin cannons met him halfway. He sat back down, scrutinized each of their faces.

“What a coincidence, I’ve already made each of your acquaintance, separately.” He pointed at Collin. “You tried to blow my head off.” He swiveled to Burton. “And you tried to blow smoke up my ass. And succeeded. Burton right? Bill Burton. Always remember names.” He looked at Collin. “Didn’t catch yours though.”

Collin looked at Burton, then stared back at Jack. “Secret Service Agent Tim Collin. You pack a nice little wallop, Jack. Must’ve played some ball back in school.”

“Yeah, my shoulder still remembers you.”

Burton sat down on the bed next to Jack.

Jack looked at him. “I thought I’d covered my tracks pretty good. I’m kind of surprised you found me.”

Burton looked at the ceiling. “A little bird told us, Jack.”

Jack looked over at Collin and then back at Burton. “Look, I’m heading out of town, and I’m not coming back. I don’t think you guys need to add me to the body count.”

Burton eyed the bag on the bed and then got up and slipped his gun back in its holster. Then he grabbed Jack and flung him up against the wall. The veteran agent left nothing unprobed by the time he had finished. Burton spent the next ten minutes examining every inch of the room for listening devices and other items of interest, ending his search at Jack’s bag. He pulled out the photos and examined them.

Satisfied, Burton secreted them in his inner coat pocket and smiled at Jack. “Excuse me, but in my line of work paranoia is part of the mentality.” He sat back down. “I would like to know, Jack, why you sent that photo to the President.”

Jack shrugged. “Well, since my life here happens to be over, I thought your boss might want to contribute to my going-away fund. You could’ve just wired the funds, like you did with Luther.”

Collin grunted, shook his head and grinned. “The world doesn’t work that way, Jack, sorry. You should’ve found another solution to your problem.”

Jack shot back, “I guess I should’ve followed your example. Got a problem? Just kill it.”

Collin’s smile evaporated. His eyes glittered darkly at the lawyer.

Burton stood up and paced around the room. He pulled out a cigarette and then crunched it up and put it in his pocket. He turned to Jack and said quietly, “You should’ve just gotten the hell out of town, Jack. Maybe you would’ve made it.”

“Not with you two on my butt.”

Burton shrugged. “You never know.”

“How do you know I haven’t given one of those photos to the cops?”

Burton pulled out the photos and looked down at them. “Polaroid OneStep camera. The film comes in a standard pack of ten shots. Whitney sent two to Russell. You sent one to the President. There are seven left here. Sorry, Jack, nice try.”

“I could’ve just told Seth Frank what I know.”

Burton shook his head. “If you had I think my little bird would’ve told me. But if you want to insist on the point we can just wait for the lieutenant to show up and join the party.”

Jack burst up from the bed and launched himself toward the door. Right as he reached it, an iron fist slammed into his kidney. Jack crumpled to the floor. An instant later he was hustled up and thrown back on the bed.

Jack looked up into Collin’s face.

“Now we’re even, Jack.”

Jack groaned and lay back on the bed, fighting the nausea the blow had caused. He sat back up, caught his breath as the pain subsided.