24

Monday, January 25, 2021, 12 PM, Eastern Standard Time

“Welcome back, Nick,” the President said as his old campaign manager entered the Oval Office. His guest teared up and made as if to hug him. The President backed away.

“Things have changed since you were away, Nick,” the President said. “The vi-rus.” His mouth widened as he pronounced this word, and he extended the “s” sound at the end. “Can’t be too careful. Get him a mask and holster, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Yes, sir,” said the woman who had brought the guest into the Oval Office. She quickly returned with the requisite equipment.

The guest looked a bit stricken by his host’s inability to accept his sincere gratitude, as well as his insistence on sterilizing himself in his presence.

Nick Mancuso had managed the President’s campaign in 2016, for a brief but critical period. He had been fired by the President at a low moment for the campaign, and also at a point at which some of his seamier connections in other countries looked likely to surface in a way that might further damage his candidate. Bill Ruppert had had him dragged out of his condo at 5 in the morning, and he had only been back at his house for a few months since his several trials on charges of tax and bank fraud, defrauding the United States, witness tampering, and several other things.

These crimes, for which he was ultimately convicted, paled in comparison to some other gangsterish activities for which he was rumored to be culpable. He had been housed at taxpayer expense from the middle of his second trial, when he was found to be violating the terms of his plea agreement, until a year and a half later, when nonviolent criminals had been released into house arrest due to the virus; he had not left his home, or jail, other than to travel between those two places, for almost three years.

Until less than a day after the President won his second term. One of the President’s first post-election acts was to pardon Nick Mancuso for any and all acts he might have committed for his entire life. He was pardoned even before the members of the President’s family, and the message was clear: If you stand tall and don’t rat, the President will take care of you…eventually, when it isn’t too inconvenient.

And those who cooperated with Ruppert, or the President’s other investigators, in any way, would be left to rot in prison.

“Squirt and rub, Nick,” the President said. His old henchman looked at those around him, who were doing just that, and slowly complied.

“Now the mask,” the President said.

Nick looked at him disbelievingly, then at the others, who had already put their masks on. Then he slowly put the mask on.

“So how was prison, Nick? It looks like it was tough. I’ve only seen movies. You look fifteen years older.”

Nick looked at the President.

“I thought I was going to die in there,” he said, his gravelly voice muffled by the mask.

“Well now you’re back, and the slate’s clean. And I’m past the virus. All good.”

Nick nodded slowly.

“So I’m recovering, which means America’s recovering. And this,” the President said, “is the revenge tour.”

“Revenge tour?” Nick said.

“I’m going to get even with everyone who crossed me the first term. They ruined everything. And that means you get to get even with the people who put you away. We’ve got plans for them.”

Nick stared at the President above his mask. “You mean Ruppert?”

“Among others.”

“I want Ruppert,” Nick Mancuso said. “I want to be there when he goes down. He took my life from me.”

“Well we’ll have to look into that then.”

Nick smiled grimly under his mask.

“Thanks, boss.”

“My pleasure. Least I could do.”

“Thanks, boss,” Nick said again. A tear appeared at his eye and rolled down onto his mask.