18

Thursday, January 21, 2021, 3PM, Eastern Standard Time

“I need them locked up,” the President said.

“I understand,” said the Attorney General, his horn-rimmed glasses surmounting an N-95 mask with the President’s family business logo on it.

“I told everyone they would be locked up. It’s been four years. I had that loser in as Attorney General. He recused himself and let them impeach me.”

“Well, not exactly, Mr. President. He was gone when they impeached you.”

“I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about when you can get all of them behind bars. The Crooked One. That Russia Hoax investigator. The 2020 guy with the son. And I want Okomo in jail too. They all think they’re better than me. But they didn’t win. I won. I have the power. They all have to bow down.”

“We can do it, sir. But it has to be handled in a certain way. It might take a little time.”

“I’ve already been here four years. I beat that virus thing. It’s time for revenge. My people, the people who voted for me, want revenge. This is the revenge term. The first term was stolen from me. Now I’ve recovered. Now they all have to pay.”

“I understand, sir.” The Attorney General reached for his glasses to adjust them, then thought better of it.

“Do you? Because all I seem to get from anyone here is how they can’t do what I tell them to do. I’m the boss. You all work for me. But whenever I tell you people to do something, you people keep telling me all these reasons why suddenly you don’t really work for me. I don’t want to hear that anymore. Now you’re the best one I’ve had. Don’t start doing that thing to me now, right when I just got re- inaugurated and I can see what I want right in front of me, as long as somebody around here can do their fucking jobs.”

“You know, Mr. President, that you can count on me. I don’t think there’s a person in this country more devoted to expanding your powers than I am. My entire career I have fought to restore to the presidency the powers that were stripped away after the illegitimate overreach of the Democrats after Watergate. And we have succeeded. You can be sure that the Justice Department has never been more in line with any President’s political aims and personal interests.”

“Blah blah blah. I need loyalty. Okomo had it with his guy.”

“Undoubtedly. And you have it with me.”

“Show me. I need revenge. Otherwise everyone will see me as a sucker. It’s kill or be killed.”

“I get it, Mr. President. But you hired me for my experience, my knowledge.”

“I hired you to protect me. Sometimes to protect you have to get mean.”

“Yes, sir, and I can do that. But you also need me to use my head and figure out the right moment.”

“The right moment was four years ago. But it’s definitely also now.”

“And now is when I’m working on it. You want it to hurt them, right? If we go too soon without thinking it through, they may come back stronger than ever.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I have a plan.”

“Well tell it to me.”

“Mr. President, there are some things that it’s better you don’t know about.”

The President paused, looking at him intently through narrowed eyes, his mouth drawn downward at the corners, lower teeth showing.

“It’s that good, huh?”

“I think it will be… very effective, Mr. President. But it’s taking a little time to arrange.”

“It’s been four years already!”

“It won’t be long.”

“Years?”

“Weeks. It just requires coordinating certain people and things. You will get what you want, sir.”

“Well, if you do that, you’ll get what you want.”

“The Supreme Court?”

“Not this time. But next time.”

“Sir… sir, you have two seats to fill. Surely…”

“‘Surely.’ Don’t worry about it. Right now, I need you to take care of business. You’ve taken two years to get where you are, which as far as I can see is nowhere. Take care of this and we’ll see. I can’t be training a new guy in all this attorney general stuff until after I get my revenge. But don’t you worry. I talked to the Senate Majority Leader. We’ll have plenty of Supreme seats to fill pretty soon.”

The Attorney General did not respond.

“Your feelings are hurt? What, YOU have the virus now? Toughen up. Come through for me and I’ll come through for you.”

“Very good, sir.”

“You sound like a butler. I need a killer.”

“Is that all? Sir?”

“Yeah, that’s all.” The President put his right palm on his lower back. The pain was back. “That’s all. Tell Mrs. Johnson to send Max King in.”

“Very – all right, Mr. President.”

The Attorney General picked up his portfolio, walked to the door, opened it, turned again, and closed it behind him, his moonish face, still peering over his mask, taking in the President as he did so.

That man still does not seem entirely well, the Attorney General thought as the door clicked shut.

The door reopened almost immediately and Maxfield King entered, similarly masked, but somehow more stylishly.

“Mrs. Johnson?” the President said through the open door.

“Yes, sir?” she answered.

“Mrs. Johnson, you have any more of those painkillers the doctor gave me?”

“Not here, Mr. President.”

“Get Bloombach on the phone and get some more.”

“You okay, Mr. President?” Max asked, solicitously.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just some back trouble.”

“Backs are the worst,” Max replied sympathetically, muffled by the mask.

“Yeah. Maybe it was from the wrestling stunt a few years ago.”

“I think the other guy’s back would be hurting more than yours,” Max said.

The President smiled grimly at this attempt to flatter him.

“So you want to be Secretary of State?”

“It’s a critical position, sir. And it’s vacant.”

“They’re all vacant. Almost all, anyway. Only the Attorney General stayed.”

“They weren’t loyal,” Max said. “I would be loyal. I don’t need the money. Like you,” he hastened to add. “I don’t need to write some tell-all book. I value my privacy, and I never outshine my clients. I’m in the protection business.”

“That sounds good,” the President said. “I need people to have my back.”

“That, I can promise you.”

“Okay, I will think about it.”

“One other thing, Mr. President.”

“What?”

“I think you need your own security detail.”

“Aside from my guys from back home? And the Secret Service?”

“The Secret Service has other jobs. Did you know they are in charge of stopping counterfeiting of the currency?”

“Really? Is that a big job?”

“It takes a lot of their time.”

“They’re supposed to be looking out for me.”

“Exactly. So with their attention divided, how are they supposed to do that? And how do we know they didn’t give you the virus?”

“So what am I supposed to do about that?”

“Well, I like your guys from back home. But they aren’t trained to Special Ops level.”

“They’re mostly cops. And one guy was a leg-breaker for the mob, supposedly.”

“All fine men,” Max said. “But they simply have not been trained to an adequate level to be the primary protection unit for a principal leader.”

“THE principal leader,” the President corrected him.

“THE principal leader. In the world,” Max corrected himself.

“So you have guys available for this duty?”

“I was just interviewing two of them this morning,” Max said.

“Tough guys? Bad hombres?”

“The baddest,” Max said. “Combat tested, decorated Special Operators. One of them, you know.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Terry Sweeney.”

“Oh, I love that guy. SEAL. Tough guy. They wanted to throw him in prison, just for killing enemies. I got him out and put him back where he was. Bad hombre.”

“Yes, he is, sir. And all my guys have had the virus already. I require it for employment.”

“So how do you do this, then?”

“Well, you have to talk to the Secret Service. There’ll be the usual fuss about clearances.”

“I’ll clear Terry if there’s any problem.”

“That will help,” Max said, his smile only perceptible from the creases at the corner of his eyes.

“I gotta talk to the Secret Service guy tomorrow anyway. About something else.”

“Perfect. I can have our men ready within a week or two.”

“Okay,” the President said, rubbing his back again. “Beat it. I have to go upstairs for something.”

“You got it, sir,” King said, pirouetted, and exited the room at speed.