Chapter 13 – King’s Q and A
Thursday, June 25, 2308
Dr. Fox and his pilot, Kendrick, drifted though the brunch-hour traffic, after the early morning swell and before the lunch chaos. Hovering several thousand feet above the earth, they drifted with the magnetic current, supplied by the nearby freeway cable, hanging from its place in the urban net.
The light tapping on the hatch was still surprising, despite years of working with hair-raising technology. Neither Fox nor Kendrick could make out the presence of anyone outside the vehicle, but Fox popped the hatch anyhow.
The air at the threshold of the vehicle blurred for a moment, as if trapped above the sand on a hot day. But then the blur was gone. The hatch closed, without input from either Kendrick or Fox.
A moment later, First Sergeant King twisted a dial on his belt and blinked into view, sprawled across the back seat. "Howdy, fellas. How's tricks?"
"Tricks are good. How's Rosie?" Kendrick asked.
"Exhausted, as usual," King replied, laughing.
"You're early," Fox said. "I didn't expect you until we docked."
"Yeah, well, you know." King laughed. "Hey, by the way, what the hell are you doing here anyhow?"
"What are you talking about?" Fox replied.
"I'm asking if you have any idea what you are doing out here?"
"Is that why you came by early? Try and talk me out of it? Should we run to Mexico? Like a band of outlaws?"
"I, uh, I think we burned that bridge, partner." King rolled his eyes.
"It's not like I really have anything to fear from Stanwood and his band of halfwits."
"Oh, yes. Yes, you do. Do you know Stanley had footage of Epsilon, as soon as it happened?"
"Of course he did. He's the Director of National Intelligence, so that just makes sense."
"Did you know he also had audio of your little tête-à-tête with our friend Dr. Te. He hasn't even mentioned the fact that Te is a Chinese national living abroad. Shit, he hasn't said anything about the fact that your wife is also a foreign national."
"He doesn't know anything about her. And she has dual citizenship."
"Why does he know you spoke to Dr. Te?"
"It was an open channel," Fox answered.
"He had it before Epsilon even popped," King said. "He was in the middle of a Chicken-Little performance when the facility went up. How did that happen?"
"He must have a team dedicated to us," Fox answered.
"You mean a team dedicated to you," King concluded.
"Well, he doesn't have anyone inside. We are watertight."
"Then what is the point of a mole hunt?"
"Sometimes, what you don't find is as telling as what you do." Fox looked down at the city below them. “Let’s grab a coffee.”
“Sounds good to me,” King answered.
“Kendrick.” Fox nodded.
Agent Kendrick pulled out of the Angel City freeway traffic and set the transport into drift mode. The vehicle activated its vertical anchor and swung out over the relatively empty city space, curving away from the traffic. Fox opened the hatch and twisting the dial at his belt, vanished.
King nodded to Kendrick, activated his phase-cam and also vanished from the car. A moment later, the hatch was closed from outside.
The communications terminal on Stanwood’s desk began to ring.
“Speak of the devil,” Stanwood said. He tapped the accept button and smiled at the projected image of his Commander in Chief.
“Mister President, how are you, sir?”
“Director Stanwood,” President Conway said. “Before we get started, I just want to say that I know we originally agreed that your assignment to the Intel desk was going to be temporary. But everyone down here is very impressed with your handling of things over these past six months, so unless you have any objections, we’d like to go public with your acceptance at the daily briefing, later this afternoon.”
“Thank you, sir.”
President Conway looked off-screen, “John, Stanwood says he’ll take the post, so let’s push that paperwork through Justice and get him new letterhead and whatnot.”
The President looked back at Stanwood. “Would you like new business cards?” He looked away again, “And get him a couple of boxes of business cards, would you, Chief?”
John Phillips, the President’s Chief of Staff, could be heard grunting his acknowledgement from elsewhere in the office.
“What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Joe?”
Von Kalt watched Stanwood from across the room. Stanwood looked choked up, as though he were touched that the President had called him by his first name. The director seemed to be falling for it.
Von Kalt wanted to slap him.
“What’s that, Sir?” Stanwood had been distracted by Von Kalt’s open look of contempt.
The President smiled at Stanwood and then looked over his shoulder again, calling to Phillips.
“John, why am I on the phone with Director Stanwood?”
“Fox and The Rusty Bucket,” Phillips replied.
“What…” Completely derailed, Stanwood looked around his own office, for some clue to his agenda.
“Fox!” Stanwood exclaimed, straightening up at once.
“Yes, Director,” the President replied.
“Fox is a menace!” Stanwood seemed like he was on drugs.
The President and Von Kalt both laughed.
“Who is that over there?” President Conway asked.
Stanwood turned to Von Kalt, who leaned into fame and waved, “Good morning Mister President.”
“Rudy! How the hell are you?”
“I’m good sir. And you? The First Lady?”
“We’re great, Rudy. I’ll let her know I bumped into you, well not literally…” The President smiled. “She’ll be thrilled.”
Von Kalt laughed at Stanwood’s shock and confusion.
“How’s Sam, Samantha?” the President asked.
“Very good, Sir. We just had a boy last year,” Von Kalt replied.
“Congratulations! John…”
Phillips was already on his way. The lumbering bear of a man came right over the President’s shoulder. He held a smoldering black cigar in his hand. The President pushed it away.
“Rudy! How you been kid? Great to see you!” Phillips exclaimed.
Stanwood leaned back, clearly frustrated.
“Mr. Phillips, good to see you too.” Von Kalt caught Stanwood’s discomfort and tried not to rub it in too much.
Phillips waved goodbye, “I got this thing going on over here, but we gotta catch up sometime soon. Later, kid,” Phillips was gone as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving the President to fan the cigar-stained air around him.
“Anyhow, I suppose we’d better get back to the issue at hand,” President Conway said.
Von Kalt nodded. “Yes, sir.” He stepped back, out of frame, leaving the terminal to Director Stanwood.
“What was it you wanted, Joe?” This time the President’s use of Director Stanwood’s first name did not sound friendly at all.
“Sir, I forwarded a data package to your office a couple of days ago. I’d like to move forward with that proposal today.”
“I thought you were moving forward?” Conway asked.
“They are moving forward,” Phillips called out, off screen.
“Sir, I’m referring to my suggestion that Doctor Fox be taken into custody immediately. The Attorney General can schedule a hearing...”
“A Hearing? I thought this was just a briefing, Joe. Don’t you also have a massive interagency mole-hunt going on? I thought that’s what you were calling about.”
“No, sir. I mean, yes sir. That operation is still going on, but the aim was to find out who’s leaking intelligence from us, not so much to us.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Conway asked.
“Sir, the mole hunt is not what I’m concerned with.”
“Oh, that’s righ
t, you want to arrest Fox. You think he’s a threat.” Conway rolled his eyes, as if indulging an obnoxious child.
“Sir, I believe that allowing Dr. Andrew Fox into a room with almost a dozen of the country’s most influential lawmakers could be a disastrous mistake. If we had a repeat of Epsilon…”
“Joe, I was made to understand that this detonation would in effect consume an entire metropolitan area. Is that correct?”
“We believe so, sir, given the discussion between Dr. Fox and Dr. Te, yes sir, that is a distinct possibility.”
“So, if we have a repeat of Epsilon, only in a more densely packed area, the kill radius could be a hundred miles, instead of ten. Correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well then what difference does it make? There is no safe zone. In fact, arresting Dr. Fox might very well be the event that triggers this sort of cataclysm, don’t you think? It seems to me, the last thing we should want to do, is rock his boat. Don’t you agree?”
“Sir, I believe that if we separate him from his personal amplifier, by whatever means necessary, that will neutralize his ability to detonate the pure terillium contained within.”
“What do you base that assumption on? We’re talking about a device that can be detonated with a thought, Director. How can your men be faster than a thought? It seems to me that, at least for right now, even giving this Fox fellow a dirty look could be a tragic mistake. I don’t recommend bringing the full weight of the Federal Government to bear, as you suggest in your memo. You really do enjoy the flowery language don’t you? I had to have John translate half of what you were saying.”
President Conway raised his hand. “This is what I want you to do. Secretary of Defense Croswell is down there, along with a few other guys I trust. And I still trust you, Joe. I’ve had my doubts at times, but you’ve made a few friends here and there. And you’re a man with a reputation for being able to keep a secret and that’s worth something in this town.
“But Dr. Fox is a golden goose, and that is a damn sight more valuable than someone who can keep their mouth shut. Without people like Fox, people like you have nothing to keep your mouths shut about.
“So, when Secretary Croswell joins you, I want you to keep everything we just spoke about to yourself. That’s the intelligent thing to do, and you are the Director of National Intelligence.
“Jim is the Secretary of Defense. See the words in his title tell you what he does, he Defends Our Secrets. That means he’s liable to get Defensive if you start talking about things you shouldn’t.
“Now, the investors are bringing a considerable amount of money to this briefing. I want you to take responsibility for these funds and forward them to Treasury, as usual.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was there anything else?” President Conway asked.
“Well, if um… If Fox shows signs of becoming emotionally unbalanced, in that case… I’d like permission to at least immobilize him, for his own safety, not Kill him… just, say, shoot him in the knee?”
“If he goes nuts, sure, treat him like any other crazy person. But if Fox doesn’t lose his shit, don’t you go losing yours, Director.”
“Yes, sir.”
“In the knee, huh?” Secretary Croswell asked as he entered the office. Croswell arrived without assistant, attaché or bodyguard, as was his preference; he’d always kept his own counsel.
Stanwood waved but didn’t break eye-contact with the President.
“Hiya, Jimmy. Keep this joker in line, will you?” President Conway called out, having heard Croswell’s voice.
“My pleasure, Mister President,” Croswell answered.
“Thank you, Director Stanwood.” President Conway gave a backhanded wave and switched off his terminal.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Croswell said, shaking his head. He took a seat on one of the two facing couches in the less formal section of the office.
Stanwood sighed but didn’t answer.