“He’s the President, ma’am,” he added, for good measure, as if that
justified everything. And for Russell it usually did, a fact Burton was
well aware of.
Russell looked around the room, taking in everything. She had been a
tenured professor of political science at Stanford I with a national
reputation before answering the call in Alan Richmond’s quest for the
presidency. He was such a powerful force, everybody wanted to jump on
his bandwagon.
Currently Chief of Staff, with serious talk of becoming Secretary of
State if Richmond won reelection, which everyone expected him to do with
ease. Who knew? Maybe a Richmond-Russell ticket might be in the making.
They made a brilliant combination. She was the strategist, he was the
consummate campaigner. Their future grew brighter every day. But now?
Now she had a corpse and a drunken President inside a home that was
supposed to be vacant.
She felt the express train coming to a halt. Then her mind snapped back.
Not over this little piece of human garbage.
Not ever!
Burton stirred. “You want me to call the police now, ma’am?”
Russell looked at him like he had lost his mind. “Burton, let me remind
you that our job is to protect the President’s interests at all times
and nothing-absolutely nothing-takes precedence over that. Is that
clear?”
you get a lot more.
Russell steadied herself and faced off with Agent Collin.
“What the hell happened?”
Tim Collin was young, tough and devoted to the man he was assigned to
protect. He was trained to die defending the President, and there was no
question in his mind that if the time came he would. Several years had
passed since he had, tackled an assailant in the parking lot of a
shopping center where then presidential candidate Alan Richmond had been
making an appearance. Collin had had the potential assassin down on the
asphalt and completely immobile before the guy had even gotten his gun
fully out of his pocket, before an one else had even reacted. To Collin,
his only mission in life , was to protect Alan Richmond.
It took Agent Collin one minute to report the facts to Russell in
succinct, cohesive sentences. Burton solemnly confirmed the account.
“It was either him or her, Ms. Russell. There was no other;, way to cut
it.” Burton instinctively glanced at the President, who still lay on the
bed oblivious to anything. They had cOvered the more strategic portion
of his body with a sheet.
“Do you mean to tell me you heard nothing? No sounds of violence
before, before this?” She waved at the mess of the room.
The agents looked at each other. They had heard many sounds emanating
from bedrooms where their boss happened to be. Some might be construed
as violent, some not. But everybody had always come out okay before.
“Nothing unusual,” Burton replied. “Then we heard the President scream
and we went in. That knife was maybe
“Ma’am, the lady’s dead. I think we-2′ momentarily relishing this
switching of roles. “And then stay
“That’s right. You and Collin shot the woman, and she’s@ by the front
door just in case we get any late-night visitors.
dead.” After exploding from Russell’s mouth, the words’l
“Collin, go to the van, and talk to Johnson and Varney.
hung in the air. Collin rubbed his fingers together; a hand Don’t tell
them anything about this. For now just tell them went instinctively to
his bolstered weapon. He stared at the! there was an accident, but that
the President’s okay. That’s late Mrs. Sullivan as if he could will her
back to life.
Burton flexed his burly shoulders, moved an inch closer W’ Russell so
that the significant height difference was at its maximum.
“If we hadn’t fired, the President would be dead. That’s our job. To
keep the President safe and sound.”
“Right again, Burton. And now that you have prevented: his death, how do
you intend to explain to the police and: the President’s wife and your
superiors, and the lawyers, and the media and the Congress and the
financial markets and the country and the rest of the goddamned world,
whyi the President was here? What he was doing while he wasi here? And