Cobalt (2 page)

     ‘Well if you need me, I’ll be right outside. I’ve got a pile of things to do. You’ve most likely got nothing to worry about. Marcus is probably hitting on her.’ With that Emily left the office chuckling to herself. It was so easy to rile Rick, and that was one of the reasons she had stayed their assistant for so long. That and the fact that she generally wanted to see Madeline and Rick settle down together. She really liked them both, and saw a relationship beneficial both professionally and personally. So far her cupid attempts had failed, but she had decided long ago not to give up.  

Rick sat behind his desk, drumming his fingers on its oak top. He contemplated what Emily had said, and decided Marcus was briefing Madeline on a new mission, as he usually made personal visits to the office when he wanted to seduce her. So far Madeline had relented, but there was always a first time for everything. It had taken three years of persuasion before she finally joined him for dinner, the first time. Rick stared over at Madeline’s fish, watching as they slowly swam around the tank. This is supposed to be relaxing, he thought, like watching paint dry. He turned his attention to the photograph of his family he kept on his desk. Emily often commented that it seemed out of place, but he left it sit there, gathering dust as a reminder that he was doing exactly what he wanted to do, not what the rest of his family wanted him to do. He looked at the people in the photo. The men, his father, his two brothers and his two sister’s husbands were all dressed in blue jeans of various shades of denim, flannel shirts and leather jackets. The women, his brother’s wives, one of his two younger sisters and his mother wore dresses. His remaining sister - Bessie - the youngest of the family wore pale blue denim jeans, snake-skin boots and a white man’s shirt. She was like him, a non-conformist to his family tradition. In the photo he wore tailored, Gucci olive green dress pants, a fitted black long-sleeved shirt, polished black slip-on casual shoes and black Ray-Ban sunglasses. You could tell just by looking at the photo that Rick was the odd one out. His entire family had followed in his father, Bannon Glazer’s footsteps and farmed various properties’ about  200 miles - 330 kilometres - northwest of Denver, on the Yampa River, near the Wyoming border. Rick had caused a rift in the family when he declared he was going to pursue a career in law-enforcement, and not just with the local sheriff’s department. His father had not spoken to him for ten years after he moved away to study. He knew, now that he was a stubborn as his father, and that his father was proud of his success. He’d spent every Thanks Giving, Christmas and his father’s birthday on the farm, with his parents, for the past fifteen years. Over that time many new members had been introduced to the family, spouses, grandchildren, nieces and nephews, none of which were Rick’s. Of course after his older brothers had heckled him he had told them about Madeline, but he had never taken her there to meet his farming family. They had never even seen a photo of her, not that he had one. He decided that one day he’d drag her, kicking and screaming if he had too, from Washington DC, fly her to Denver and introduce her to them.

He tried to imagine Madeline on a farm. Dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and a hat. He just couldn’t picture it, no more so than himself astride a tractor, ploughing fields. An image of her formed in his head, dressed in his white shirt, which was crumpled, breathless, with straw entangled in her hair. He smiled. Now I’ll really have to take her to Colorado, he thought. He looked towards the door, still smiling. He had resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing left for him to do but await Madeline’s return, and his orders, but he didn’t mind. The image in his head would keep him entertained until her return.

CHAPTER 3

‘Ladies and Gentlemen of the press. I called this press conference this morning for one reason, and one reason only. To inform you of a new policy that will be initiated under my presidency.’ William Watson addressed the room full of reporters. ‘Never again, under my administration will the United States negotiate with terrorists. Even if my life is on the line, we will not fold under the pressure applied by bullying extremists.’ William punctuated the last sentence by tapping his right index finger on the top of the podium, behind which he stood. He glanced around the room, taking in the various expressions. Some looked at him in utter amazement. After all, this would be the first drastic thing he had done in his two years in office. Others smiled at what he thought was the idea of him dying for a few million dollars. On Ted Randal’s face he read annoyance and frustration. There’s going to be hell to pay when I finish here. I won’t have to worry about terrorists.  After Ted, they’ll be a walk in the park, William thought as he looked directly at his National Security Adviser. William’s eyes then wandered over to the left wing of the stage, to where his wife stood. They had been having problems, in their private life, lately, but as with all public appearances she was there to show support. Gillian, seeing her husband’s gaze, and being ever conscious of the press and the constant flashes of their cameras, smiled slightly and nodded encouragingly in her husband’s direction. Every motion was caught on moving and still film, from around the room. William continued, ‘For too long the United States has been forced to bow down to every demand, to every terrorist, but only because a non-negotiation policy introduced has been seriously enforced. As of today, this policy has been revised. This policy exists, and this policy is priority. As of today the United States will not, cannot be held to ransom. As of today the United States has become a terrorist-free entity. This non-negotiation policy will become a fundamental part of the constitution, to be upheld by all future administrations. It will be as recognised as the First Amendment and freedom and justice for all. Ladies and Gentlemen the United States of America will not negotiate with anyone.’ William inhaled deeply as he left the podium. He knew what would be coming when he left the press room.

            Just outside the door, in the whitewashed hallway that ran the length of the White House, Ted Randal caught up to William and escorted him to the Oval Office. Once behind closed doors, Ted let his concerns fly.

     ‘Do you know what you just did Mr President?’

     ‘I tweaked the speech. All by myself. In front of all those reporters. And Gillian accused me of being un-spontaneous. Right there, on the spot. Unrehearsed. Aren’t you proud of me, Ted’ William fooled trying to lighten the mood. Ted was pissed, the changes had not been screened by the National Security Adviser, he’d been left out of the loop, and Ted hated being left out of the decision-making process. ‘And you guys didn’t think I’d be able to string two sentences together.’

    ‘Mr President….’ Ted interrupted.

    William turned to face Ted. ‘I’ll have you know I did just fine before Rory and Bella were contracted. I’ll have you know I can be quite intellectual, quite literate when need be. ‘As of today the United States will not, can not be held to ransom. As of today the United States has become a terrorist-free entity.’ Now that’s catchy writing. Who needs staff writers and communications directors. Tell Bella and Rory we no longer require their services. William Watson is on a roll.’

     ‘Do you think that was a wise decision, Mr. President?’ Ted reasoned.

     ‘I was joking Ted. Nobody can do it better than Rory and Bella. They’re the best.’

     ‘I meant the policy Sir,  I mean you saw the e-mail this morning. Who knows how far these lunatics will take this - they blew up a New York bus station, for Christ sake.’

     ‘I discussed this with you…’ William responded moving around to the other side of his desk to face Ted.

     ‘In private, which is where I thought it would stay!’ Ted interrupted, nearly shouting at William.

     ‘You raise your voice to the President?’ William joked, trying to calm his friend down. They had been friends since university. It had always been like this. William the vivacious one, always in the limelight, with Ted always there to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground. It was only natural that when William ran for office, Ted should become an integral part of the campaign, and part of the Watson administration party. William looked at his friend. The small, thin man always looked as if he had borrowed his body for the weekend and was still figuring out exactly how to use it. Of course, that was part of his charm. While Ted and William were the same age, fifty-six, William’s hair had taken on a silver hue, while what little of Ted’s that remained, stayed dark brown. With a few beers in him, Ted became the life of the party, and it was usually on these occasions that he chose to point out William’s snowy look. Of course William never failed to remind him, that at least he had a full head of hair, and a wife. Ted liked to say that he was far too busy to sustain a relationship, but William believed that Ted had never quite recovered after Gillian left Ted for William. They were in university when that happened. It was about six months after her stint with Ted that Gillian began to see him socially. Ted never let it interfere with his friendship with the both of them, but William knew it was one of the reasons he had never commit completely to a woman. Ted’s brown eyes focused on William from beneath his gold-rimmed, circular glasses as William continued.

     ‘Look, it had to happen. I mean at the moment the White House is controlled by every money hungry lunatic, who can get his hands on an Uzi.’

     ‘That’s why we had congress move on the crime bill. To eradicate weapons on the street, hand guns, Uzis, assault rifles…’

     ‘Yes, so now they have to wait three days before they can pick up their weapon of choice and take the White House. Acceptable?’

     ‘It’s a means to an end Mr President. Compromises have to made to get any bill past. It’s all political.’ Ted admonished.

     ‘Everything’ political. That’s why we’re politicians, but you know what. It’s done. It’s out there. Connie’s polling it as we speak, testing the public’s reaction to the announcement. You know, doing what a Press Secretary does best. Besides, whatever happens with this latest development, with the terrorists I’m sure it can be sorted out by other means. I’ve contacted Marcus. You know, after I ruined your day I decided to ruin his. He’s got his best people working on it as we speak. This policy is important legislation. It ranks up there with liberty and justice for all. We can’t out it because of a relatively small incident at a bus station. As cruel as this sounds, only three people died as a result, hardly an aggressive figure in comparison to other terrorist activities. It does not warrant the end of the non-negotiation policy. It warrants action, investigation, but not the end of a policy that could very possibly end terrorism in the US forever.’ William sat down behind his desk and motioned for Ted to take the seat opposite. ‘After all it was you who said we can’t allow sadists to control the government.’

There was a soft tap on the door. It opened slightly and Gillian leaned her head through the gap, flicking a stray piece of deep brown hair from her face as she spoke.

    ‘I just wanted to tell you, I’m really proud of you, that’s all. Sorry to interrupt. Hi Ted.’ She smiled and left, closing the door behind her. William smiled also. After the fight they had had last night, he didn’t think she was speaking to him. William turned his attention back to Ted.

     ‘Don’t worry, so much.’ he said smiling at his friend.

     ‘I thought that’s what I was here for,’ Ted said, looking at his planner and seeing what his next meeting was.

     ‘Not entirely,’ William replied. ‘Who else have I got for a billiards partner? But seriously, I can’t see this going any further than it already has. It was a short-lived terrorist group, which has retreated at the publicity surrounding the incident today. Marcus will tell us when to worry.’ William then prepared himself for his next meeting, a fifteen minute session with the New U.S. Special Envoy for Sudan. With only 99 days remaining before the end of the interim period of the Comprehensive Peace and Aide Agreement, and the situation worsening with drought compacting on the war-torn, poverty stricken country, the presidential team was on budget re-assessment.

CHAPTER 4

Madeline walked into Director Shaw's office, head held high heels clicking on the tiled floor. She took the seat directly opposite her supervisor, and swinging one long leg over the other, gave him a flash of thigh. All thoughts of his purpose for this meeting went out of the CIA Director's head, as he admired the woman dressed in a red skirt suit, seated in front of him. If there were more meetings with Madeline, I'd never get any work done, he thought. I wish there were more…

     ‘Well?’ she asked.

     ‘Mad... Of course, the mission.’ he stated, his mind quickly switching from perverse thoughts to the business at hand. ‘Lychart intercepted a transmission, over an hour ago, between the White House and a known terrorist group, headed by none other than Kellerin, himself. As of this moment, however, we still don’t know its origin. I would like you to help me brief a team on the best strategy to track down and apprehend Kellerin and his men. If we fail, the President will be forced to pay billions of dollars in  ransom, to save the lives of the citizens of Washington DC. And if it comes to that.... you know the President just publicly announced his new  and improved non-negotiation policy. His feelings are that a terrorist negotiation less than six hours after that will hurt his popularity, and his credibility, so it's up to us. Lychart will have the transmission origin within the next two hours. The team must be ready by then.’