Jeffrey Archer - Shall We Tell the President?

The Director looked at Mark; neither of them spoke. The President continued, repeating her belief in the importance of gun control and why the measure deserved the full support of the American people.

“And so I leave you, my fellow citizens, thanking God that America can still produce men who are willing to risk their own lives for public service. Thank you and good night.”

The camera panned to the Presidential Seal. Then the Outside Broadcast units took over and switched to a picture of the White House with the flag at half-mast.

“It’s a wrap, Harry,” said the female floor producer.

“Let’s do a re-run and see what it looks like.”

The President in the Oval Office, and the Director and Mark in Janet Brown’s room watched the re-run. It was good. The Gun Control bill will sail through, thought Mark.

The chief usher arrived at Janet Brown’s door. He addressed the Director.

“The President wonders if you and Mr. Andrews would be kind enough to join her in the Oval Office.”

Both men rose from their chairs and followed in silence down the long marble corridor of the West Wing, passing pictures of former presidents, intermingled with oil paintings commemorating famous incidents in American history. They passed the bronze bust of Lincoln. When they reached the East Wing, they stopped at the massive white semi-circular doors of the Oval Office, dominated by the great Presidential Seal. A Secret Service man was sitting behind a desk in the hallway. He looked up at the chief usher, neither spoke. Mark watched the Secret Service agent’s hand go under the desk, and he heard a click. The Seal split as the doors opened. The usher remained in the entrance.

Someone was unclipping a tiny microphone from under the President’s collar, and the remnants of make-up were being removed by an attentive young woman. The television cameras had already gone. The usher announced, “The Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Mr. H.A.L. Tyson, and Special Agent Mark Andrews, Madam President.”

The President rose from her seat at the far end of the room and waited to greet them. They walked towards her slowly.

“Sir,” said Mark under his breath.

“Yes, Mark?”

“Shall we tell the President?”