10
ROACH AND MCMAHON WERE SITTING IN THE Oval Office waiting for the president, Garret, and whoever else would be attending the meeting. It was almost twelve-fifteen, and no one had entered the room since a Secret Service agent had let them in at noon. The two FBI men were sitting in front of the fireplace, one on each couch. Neither had said a word since arriving. The president and Garret were up to something, and Roach wasn’t quite sure what it was, but until he figured it out, he would move with caution.
At that same moment, the president,
Garret, Hopkinson, Speaker Basset, Senator Lloyd Hellerman, and a
half dozen secretaries and aides were crowded around the large
conference table in the Cabinet Room. They were scrambling to put
together a media strategy that would help make the best of a dire
situation. Most of the men in the room were aware of the nation’s
overall distrust of politicians, but none of them had imagined how
bad it had gotten. Hopkinson was starting to get polling
information back, and it was shocking. A poll conducted
by USA
Today showed that almost 40 percent of those questioned
believed the country would be better off without Fitzgerald,
Koslowski, and Downs.
When Garret heard the news earlier, he had
snickered, “Let’s see where those numbers are on Monday.” The
reason he was so confident was because his phone had been ringing
off the hook since the president’s speech. Americans loved a
conspiracy. They would eat up the idea that the letter was sent to
confuse the FBI, and that the murders were committed in connection
with a dark plot. The seeds had been planted, and the notorious
rumor mill of D.C. and the media would take care of the rest.
Speaker Basset and Senator Hellerman had even taken the bait. They
had both arrived early this morning and stopped by Garret’s office to ask
him if anything further had been learned about the dubious
authenticity of the letter. Garret told them that even he was being
kept in the dark—that the agency that had provided them with the
information was taking careful steps to research the lead. Garret
assured them that as soon as he found anything out, they would be
the first to know.
One of the secretaries came down to the
end of the table where the president and Garret were sitting and
reminded them, for the third time, that Director Roach was waiting
in the Oval Office. The president looked at his watch. It was
12:20 P.M. “Stu, twenty minutes is long enough for them to
wait.”
Garret nodded his head. “Yeah, I suppose
you’re right.” Garret told the others they would be back and to
continue without them. He and the president left and stopped by
Mike Nance’s office before heading on to the Oval
Office.
The president entered his office first,
followed by Garret and then Nance. Roach and McMahon rose to meet
the commander in chief. The president walked over to both men and
shook their hands. “Gentlemen, I apologize for being late, but
things have been extremely hectic around here. Please be seated.”
All five men sat down, and the president continued, “Well, has the
FBI found anything out since yesterday?”
“We have the preliminary autopsy reports
on all three bodies,” Roach said. “Agent McMahon has brought copies
and is prepared to go over them with you, if you
wish.”
Garret leaned back and crossed his legs.
“That’s all
right, just leave them here and we can look them over later.”
Garret looked over at McMahon and stuck out his hand, expecting
McMahon to personally deliver the
documents.
McMahon glanced at him and then handed all
three briefs to Mike Nance, who was sitting next to him on the
couch. Nance kept one and passed the other two on to the president.
The president kept one and gave Garret the last copy. Garret
snatched it from his boss’s hand and placed it in his folder.
Without looking at either Roach or McMahon, Garret asked, “What
else do you have for us?”
Director Roach nodded to McMahon, and
McMahon handed Nance three more briefs. Roach noted, “We have three
witnesses that saw the man who we think killed Senator Downs in the
park. If you turn to the third page, you’ll find a sketch of the
perpetrator. As you can see, it’s pretty generic. None of the
witnesses got a straight shot of the man, and he was wearing a
baseball hat.”
“What are you planning to do with this
sketch?” the president asked.
“Well, in light of Dr. Kennedy’s theory, I
would like to start checking the personnel files of our Special
Forces.”
The usually stoic Nance sat forward and
cleared his throat. “I think that, for now, Dr. Kennedy’s theory
should be kept very quiet. It is completely unsubstantiated, and
the press would have a field day if they found out the FBI
suspected United States military personnel. Besides, there are some
national security issues involved with rifling through top secret
personnel files.”
“You’re not actually taking her theory
seriously, are you?” Garret asked.
“At this stage of the investigation, we
are taking every lead seriously. I also understand the possible
ramifications of Dr. Kennedy’s theory being leaked to the press.”
Roach looked over at Nance. “And I also do not expect the military
to hand over top secret files. I was thinking more along the lines
of having them pull photos of retired Special Forces personnel
only. We would promise them that Special Agent McMahon and the
three witnesses would be the only ones to see
them.”
Nance’s look of discomfort lessened but
did not vanish.
“They wouldn’t have to provide us with
anything other than photographs. The witnesses wouldn’t even need
to know where the photos came from.”
“We might be able to arrange something
along those lines, but I don’t think the brass will like it,” Nance
responded.
“Hold on a minute,” interrupted Garret.
“Before we go running off on wild-goose chases, I think we should
have a little more evidence than a theory from some little
bookworm.”
McMahon stared at Garret and would not
look away. He’d promised Roach that he would keep his cool and his
mouth shut during the meeting. McMahon kept thinking to himself,
How does a guy like this get to be the chief of staff for the
president of the United States?
Roach cleared his throat and took center
stage. “Well, since you’ve broached the subject of leads, could you
tell me what information you have that
would lead you to believe
the letter is a piece of
disinformation?”
Before the president could answer, Nance
spoke. “Right now, we are not at liberty to discuss that
information. The lead is still being
investigated.”
Instead of responding, Roach stared at the
president and thought to himself, What are these guys up
to?
Nance continued, “The information will be
passed on to you as soon as it can be verified. The people who are
looking into this want to be very careful that they don’t
compromise any assets by moving too
quickly.”
Roach thought to himself, You bet your ass
you’ll pass it on to me, or you’ll find a subpoena sitting on your
desk. The director shifted his gaze away from the president and
back to Nance. “Who is investigating
it?”
“I can’t say anything just yet. It’s a
strange situation that I really can’t go
into.”
Roach looked over at McMahon and they both
thought the same thing. You can tell the entire nation on TV, but
you can’t discuss it with the director of the
FBI.
Garret sensed they weren’t buying Nance’s
excuse, so he jumped into the fray. “Director Roach, you seem as if
you doubt us. Don’t you think the fact that these men were murdered
on the eve of the passage of the president’s budget is more than
just a mere coincidence?”
“I think the timing of the murders is
directly related to the president’s budget,” answered Roach, the
concession catching Garret off-balance.
“So you do think there’s a good chance
this letter is meant to mislead us?” Garret
asked.
“I think anything is possible at this
point. Agent McMahon is investigating several leads that involve
the timing of the murders.”
Garret leaned forward and looked at
McMahon. “What type of leads are you
pursuing?”
“I am not at liberty to discuss them at
this point. We are still in the early stages of running them
down.”
Garret sat back and quietly cursed himself
for being suckered into the trap.
“Special Agent McMahon, I understand that
whatever leads you have may not be very solid right now, but I
would still like to hear them,” the president said as he watched
McMahon look to Roach.
“Come now, gentlemen. Whatever is said in
this office will stay in this office,” the president
continued.
McMahon almost laughed out loud but
suppressed the desire. “Mr. President, if you’d please pardon my
candor, you appeared on national television last night and told the
entire country you had reason to believe that the letter is a piece
of disinformation. Now, I can only assume that for you to say
something like that, you must have some pretty solid facts
regarding the authenticity of that letter . . . facts that you are
not willing to pass on to us, the people who are in charge of
investigating these murders. For now, we have agreed to respect
your decision to not share that information. I would hope that you
would also understand our position and
give us some time to run
these leads down before we pass our information on to
you.”
Everyone was silent while the two sides
thought about the hand McMahon had just played. Garret was furious.
Who in the fuck did this no-name agent think he was, coming into
the Oval Office and denying the president
information?
Nance, on the other hand, admired the
move. In light of the position he had just taken, they had no
choice but to accept McMahon’s excuse.
The maneuver had been planned by Roach and
McMahon before they left the Hoover Building, and now it was the
director’s turn. “Mr. President, I realize things were very tense
and confusing last night, but during your speech you said the
Bureau told you there was a good chance the letter was a piece of
disinformation.”
“I’ll take the blame for that,” Garret
blurted out. “I was in charge of editing the speech and I missed
it. Sorry.” Garret’s apology smacked of blatant
insincerity.
Roach looked at Garret for a moment and
then back to the president. “You also quoted me as saying that I
guaranteed the perpetrators would be caught and brought to
justice.”
Again, Garret fielded the question. “That
was my fault also. I should have caught it. We meant it to sound
more general, but it came out sounding like a direct quote. I
apologize.”
Roach nodded his head in a feigned
acknowledgment of Garret’s apology. He knew they would lie. He just
wanted to see how they would do it. Roach looked away from Garret.
It was time to get down to important matters. “Sir, my main concern right now
is not the authenticity of the letter; it is the security of the
remaining five hundred and thirty-two senators and congressmen. The
letter clearly states that if these reforms are not acted on, this
group will kill more politicians. They have even made a direct
threat to you, sir. For now, we have to assume the letter is real
and that they will strike again. We have to arrange for
protection.” The president, Nance, and Garret nodded their heads in
agreement. “I have spoken with Director Tracy of the Secret
Service, and most of the chiefs of the metro-area police
departments. We are meeting this afternoon to discuss additional
security measures. The tab for this protection, sir, is going to be
rather large. I am going to need you to authorize special
funding.”
“Don’t worry about the money. Whatever it
costs will be taken care of.” The president waved his hand in the
air emphasizing that money was the least of their concerns. “How
are you planning on handling the
security?”
“Well, Director Tracy and I have agreed
that initially we should concentrate on giving the best security to
the senior-ranking members of both the House and the Senate. He and
I are working on pulling agents out of the field so they can
provide personal protection for the ranking members. The
presidential security detail will not be weakened. If anything,
Director Tracy is thinking about adding more agents. This
afternoon, we will determine how many of the ranking members we can
protect with just the agents from the FBI and Secret Service. When
we run out of agents, we will have to
start using local police
officers for the protection of the less senior members. We are also
looking at using federal marshals, Treasury agents, and various
military units. Director Tracy has also recommended that we shut
down Lafayette Park and the streets surrounding the Capitol and the
House and Senate office buildings. The White House is very secure,
but the same cannot be said of the Capitol and the House and Senate
office buildings. To bolster the security in and around the Capitol
we are considering moving in a light armored division from the
Army.”
Garret scoffed and shook his head
vigorously. “A light armored division? Are you talking just
personnel or are you talking equipment
also?”
“Equipment and personnel,” Roach responded
in an even tone.
“You mean to tell me you’re going to
surround the Capitol with tanks?”
“No, with Humvees, armored personnel
carriers, and Bradley fighting
vehicles.”
“Like I said, you’re going to surround the
Capitol with tanks.”
“No, light armored divisions don’t have
tanks. That would be an armored
division.”
“I know the difference,” Garret said in a
mocking tone. “But the average American doesn’t.” Garret looked to
the president and said, “I think we’re going a little overboard
here. We can’t have tanks driving down the streets of Washington,
D.C. We’ll look like the fucking Chinese, for Christ’s
sake.”
The president paused while he digested
Garret’s comments. “I agree with Stu. For now let’s try
to keep
things as normal looking as possible. I don’t want the press and
the American people to think we’re panicking. Besides, these
killers would have to be suicidal to try something at the
Capitol.”
Roach nodded his head in compliance and
then went on. The meeting lasted for another ten minutes while
Roach continued to give them a broad overview of the extra security
measures. When he was done, the president walked them to the door
and thanked them for coming.
Roach and McMahon did not say a word until
they climbed into the limo. Once the doors closed, Roach
immediately started to shake his head in disapproval. He did not
swear but wanted to. Roach liked to stay on a nice, even keel,
while McMahon was just the opposite.
“What a bunch of
assholes.”
“I take it you didn’t believe a word of
their story,” Roach said.
“Are you kidding me? He gets on national
TV and announces to the country that he believes the letter is
phony, but he won’t tell the director of the FBI or the agent
running the investigation where he got the information. It’s a
crock of shit.”
“Why would he make it up if it’s obviously
a lie? If he has any information, he will have to come forward with
it.”
“You’re damn right he will. If he doesn’t,
we’ll hit him with a subpoena and an obstruction of justice charge.
This is our baby, not the NSA’s or the CIA’s. This is domestic and
it’s our jurisdiction,” McMahon said.
“Yeah, that’s what worries me. They know
they have
to hand over what they’ve got.” Roach paused and looked out the
window. “So, what are they up to?”
“I have no idea. Politics is your
department, but if they’re still proclaiming this letter is fake
two days from now and they haven’t handed anything over to us, I’d
get the Justice Department involved.”