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“You should have seen her this morning.” Ross placed his hands on the back of the chair and looked at the TV. “She was so smug. She sat there in her office with her damn expressionless face and told me she didn’t think it was appropriate to comment on the article. When I was her boss, she used to pull the same shit.”
“What did you expect her to say?” Garret extended the remote, turned up the volume, and in a falsetto voice said, “I screwed up. I’m sorry.” Garret shook his head. “People like Kennedy…they always think they’re the smartest person in the room. No way she’s ever going to admit she blew it.”
The image of the White House Press Room came on the screen. It was just the podium and the blue backdrop with the cutout of the White House. Next to the White House logo a large flat-panel monitor hung from the ceiling. The crawler at the bottom of the screen said the president was expected to make an important announcement. The CNN White House correspondent was reporting the speculation that CIA Director Kennedy was expected to announce her resignation.
“No shit.” Garret laughed. “Isn’t this great?”
“Yes, it is.” Ross flashed a proud smile. “This is real power. Being able to manipulate world events.”
“Look,” Garret said, “here comes bobble head.”
Ross snickered. Garret could be brutally funny some times. After President Hayes had rebuffed the campaign for the umpteenth time and made it clear that he would not be campaigning on behalf of Ross and Alexander, Garret had taken to calling him bobble head. It was a crude reference to the way the president’s Parkinson’s made him shake.
“He must have taken his medicine this morning. He’s not shaking too bad.”
“Turn it up,” Ross commanded.
A series of escalating green bars appeared at the bottom of the screen while the president arranged his notes behind the podium. The expression on his face was very serious. Finally, Hayes cleared his throat and then grabbed the small mike pulling it a bit closer.
“I’m going to make a brief statement,” he said, “and then I’m going to turn things over to Director Kennedy.” Hayes paused for a second to look down at his notes. “I have been blessed in my life to work with some extremely talented people. At the top of that list I would put the woman to my right.” The president stopped and looked at Kennedy with a paternal smile.
Garret said, “He’s going to build her up before he drops the ax.”
“Director Kennedy has been one of my closest advisors over the past four years, and she and her team at the CIA are some of the finest folks in public service today. Many of her successes you will never know about because they are classified. Her failures, unfortunately, often end up on the front pages of newspapers across the country and beyond.” The president stopped, his eyes floating over the press corps with an expression that was somewhere between anger and disappointment. “I would like to say to the country today that there is no one I have depended on more over these past four years than Irene Kennedy. I owe her a deep debt of gratitude. The country owes her a deep debt of gratitude.” Hayes stayed at the microphone, but turned to look at Kennedy. “I am a very lucky man to have worked with someone so talented and loyal.”
The president stepped away from the podium and opened his arms for Kennedy.
Garret shook his head in disgust and said, “You see! That’s what happens when you’re done running for office. You don’t give a shit who you hug. If he was up for reelection, there’s no way he’d be doing this. I’d bet he wouldn’t even be caught in the same room as her.”
Kennedy stood behind the podium with empty hands. She looked decidedly smaller than the president, but she exuded a quiet confidence. Her straight brown hair was tucked behind her ears, and she was wearing a pair of diminutive black-rimmed glasses. A strand of small white pearls hung around her neck. She looked smart, classy, and in control.
She looked straight at the press corps and said, “Since the terrorist attack here in Washington this past October, the CIA has been actively trying to identify the person or persons behind the assault on the motorcade. This past weekend a team of CIA operatives, after nearly a month in the field, apprehended a man on the Greek island of Cyprus. This man has been identified by The New York Times as Alexander Deckas, a Greek national. Just this morning the Greek government filed an official protest at the United Nations accusing the United States of kidnapping one of their citizens. The Greek government is demanding Mr. Deckas be returned immediately.”
Kennedy looked to her right and gave a nod to someone offscreen. A second later the flat-panel monitor that was perched over her right shoulder flickered to life. Kennedy moved around to the far side of the podium, raised her right arm, and pointed it at the screen. A black-and-white image appeared on the screen.
“This surveillance footage was taken at a Starbucks on Wisconsin Avenue only a few blocks away from the explosion that took place this past October. Based on the testimony of a Secret Service agent who was in the motorcade that day, we believe the man standing at the counter wearing the baseball hat is the person who detonated the bomb.”
Kennedy raised her hand, pressed the remote and the screen split in two. The left half showed the Starbucks footage, and the right half showed a new surveillance image. “The picture on the right was taken at JFK the day before the attack. Using facial recognition software, these two photos were analyzed. Experts in the field concur that there is an eighty-plus percent chance that these two men are one and the same.”
Ross’s eyes narrowed and he asked, “What in the hell is she up to?”
“The man on the right entered the U.S. using a Greek passport and was traveling under the name of Nicholas Panagos.” Kennedy hit the remote
again and the screen was now split into thirds. “This new picture on the far right is of Alexander Deckas, the man we apprehended in Cyprus this past weekend. Using facial recognition software our experts concur that there is a ninety-nine percent match between the photo in the middle and the one of Mr. Deckas on the right.” Kennedy paused and looked out at the reporters assembled before her.
A hand shot up and then a man stood blocking a good portion of the camera angle. The image on the TV quickly switched to show the reporter from the front. As he began to speak his name appeared at the bottom of the screen along with the newspaper he worked for. It was Sam Cohen, the White House correspondent for The New York Times.
“Director Kennedy, are you denying reports that the CIA kidnapped Mr. Deckas from his home on Cyprus?”
The camera angle switched back around to Kennedy. “I would use the word apprehended.”
“So you’re not denying it?”
Kennedy pursed her lips for a moment and then said, “No.”
Cohen wrote while he talked. “Are you denying reports that Mitch Rapp shot this man four times, once in each knee and then again in both hands?”
Once again Kennedy paused and then gave her one word response. “No.”
