AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The President then stepped from behind the podium and walked quickly to the edge of the stage and down a shallow flight of stairs.
What the hell? That’s it?
Before you take off, Zeke, you’re supposed to wait until one of your pals in the press corps, cued by Porky Parker, cuts off the conference by saying, “Thank you, Mr. President.”
The cameras followed the President and recorded Porky Parker as he fended off the White House Press Corps as they shouted questions and tried to get close to the President.
Roscoe looked at the stage and saw on the faces of the assembled dignitaries that they were as surprised by President Clendennen’s sudden departure as he was.
Secret Service agents and the CIA police kept the press corps from chasing the President and Porky into the corridor. The chasing press and those who hadn’t chased the President now turned their attention to the podium.
And the podium was empty.
The dignitaries looked at one another in visible confusion, until finally both DCI A. Franklin Lammelle and Vice President Charles W. Montvale at once began heading for the podium.
Lammelle deferred to the Vice President, and stepped back into line.
Montvale stepped to the podium and was under immediate assault by shouts of “Mr. Vice President!” from the press corps.
Danton shook his head at the sight of the melee, and thought, This has turned into a Chinese clusterfuck!
“When everybody has calmed down . . .” Vice President Montvale began, and then stopped when he realized his microphones were not working and his voice could not be heard over the shouts asking for his attention.
He first looked at the microphones in front of him for a switch, and then, finding none, bent to look behind the podium to see if he could find a switch there.
Lammelle broke ranks again and went to the podium to help.
Unbelievable! Danton thought. Un-fucking-believable!
CIA functionaries, uniformed and in suits, came to the stage and the podium to help.
A moment later there came a piercing electronic scream, quickly followed by a full volume broadcast of the Vice President’s voice saying, “Oh, shit!”
This served to almost quiet the room.
“As the President has left the building,” the Vice President’s voice came over the loudspeakers, “this press conference is over.”
That’s “Elvis has left the building,” Montvale!
The Vice President then stepped away from the podium and walked briskly off the stage. The other dignitaries quickly followed him. CIA functionaries kept the press away from them.
The CIA can’t even make their microphone work!
And since this farce is on eleven zillion television sets around the world.
Wait a minute! I’m missing something here!
What the hell?
The glistening Sikorsky VH-60 White Hawk helicopter, known as Marine One when carrying the President, was waiting for the President beside the CIA headquarters building.
Supervisory Secret Service agent Robert J. Mulligan, a tall and stocky forty-five-year-old, came out of the building and quickly checked to see that everything—other Secret Service agents, a fire engine, and an ambulance—was as it should be, and then signaled to the President that he was free to board Marine One.
Mulligan had been on Vice President Clendennen’s security detail, but as one of the agents, not as the supervisory special agent in charge. When Clendennen had suddenly become the President, he announced he wanted Mulligan to head his security detail. When it had been—very tactfully—pointed out to President Clendennen that there already was a supervisory agent in charge of the Presidential Security detail, the President had replied, “I don’t want to argue about this. Mulligan will do it. Got it?”
President Clendennen, trailed by Porky Parker, walked quickly to the White Hawk and climbed aboard, failing to acknowledge the salute of the Marine in dress blues standing by the stair door.
Mulligan quickly followed and reached for the switch that would close the stair door.
