National Burden Page 2

  President Brandon Zimmer, a Democrat from Massachusetts, now sporting a line of gray hair he hadn’t had months before, stepped from behind his desk. In his mid-thirties, the bachelor who had become president overnight was considered by the world as one of the newest most eligible. With near movie star good looks and a political pedigree that spanned back decades, Zimmer reminded many of Jack Kennedy. “Come on, Trav, you know you can call still call me Brandon.”

  Their handshake turned into a brotherly embrace. “What can I say, I’m a little awed by your new digs.”

  Zimmer rolled his eyes, knowing the former SEAL well. Not much awed Travis Haden, except maybe the woman standing next to him. “Ms. Haines, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President.”

  “Not you too!” The President laughed, and directed them to the couches in front of the roaring fireplace. They exchanged pleasantries as they got situated. Now up to speed, Zimmer said, “I’ll bet you’re wondering why I asked you to come.”

  Travis and Marge nodded, both having made certain assumptions on the flight over. Travis knew his friend was in a tight spot, having landed the job in the craziest way anyone could remember.

  “First, and I’m begging this time, please call me Brandon. I get enough ass-kissing around here. I thought it was bad when I was a lowly congressman.” Zimmer exhaled. He looked drained, older. Travis couldn’t imagine being thrust into the spotlight the way Zimmer had. In the span of a few months, Congressman Zimmer won his father’s seat in the Senate, followed shortly by his appointment as vice president when the former VP was assassinated. As if that weren’t enough, not weeks later, his predecessor, the first African American president, resigned in a televised address to the nation, handing the reigns to his vice president. To say Zimmer had been shocked would’ve been the understatement of the millennium.

  “Second, I need your honest opinion.”

  “You know us, we’re happy to help.” Travis waited for Zimmer, who seemed to be lost in thought. After a moment, his eyes refocused. The President ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, disheveling it slightly.

  “I hesitated calling you. I mean, SSI has done more than its fair share of heavy lifting for me and for this country…” Again, the distant gaze.

  “You’re not going to offend us, Brandon. Why don’t you just tell us what’s going on.”

  Zimmer exhaled. “I remember as a kid, when my third grade teacher asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up, I said I wanted to be President of the United States. That sounds silly now.”

  “Seems to me that you got what you wanted,” offered Travis, wondering where his friend was going with his nostalgic meandering. Worry crept into Travis’s chest, something that rarely happened. Two years before he wouldn’t have cared a bit for a democratic politician, but SSI had forged a lasting relationship with the man who was now the leader of the free world. Catastrophe and calamity had changed Brandon Zimmer. Once a vain and cocky career bureaucrat, Zimmer’s eyes had opened to the realities of the world.

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Silence in the room. Marge coughed into her hand, causing the men to swivel their heads.

  “No offense, Mr. President, but like it or not, you earned this. Call it being in the right place at the right time, or dumb luck, but you’re still the president. Now, I’m sure Travis will agree with me when I say that the two of us, along with the rest of Stokes Security International, are with you, and are ready to help in any way we can.”

  The President nodded, sitting a little straighter at the honest talk from the tough lawyer. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry if I’m acting a little down in the mouth. It’s not that I’m not grateful, but I’m surrounded by the old president’s staff. I’ve made a little headway to build my own inner circle while trying not to step on people who had the rug ripped out from under them. You wouldn’t believe what this has done to morale around here. Let’s start with my second request. I need your honest opinion.”

  +++

  An hour later, Travis and Marge left the Oval Office, three cabinet members taking their place as they went. Neither said a word as they passed through security or even on the cab ride to their hotel. There was plenty to be said. The level of transparency shown by the President had both impressed and shocked the SSI leaders. Their minds replayed the exchange in vivid detail, extracting bits and filing them away.

  After a painfully slow drive through snow-clogged streets, they made it to their hotel and stepped into one of their adjoining rooms.

  Travis closed the door and set his overnight bag on the floor. “What do you think?”

  Marge laughed, a hint of hysteria at the edges of it. “Are you kidding? I don’t know what you see in the guy. Seems like a--”

  “Stop. I know what you’re going to say, and while I appreciate your dissection of Zimmer’s attitude, I’d prefer to focus on what he asked us about.”

  It looked like Marge was going to bark back. She wanted to. “Okay. But I need to say that he should look in the mirror and grow a pair. He’s the President of the United States for God’s sake!”

  Travis couldn’t disagree. The depth of Zimmer’s melancholy had surprised him. He knew Brandon Zimmer as an outgoing, confident man. Sure, he’d had a few bumps along the way, but he always came out stronger on the other side.

  “What do you think about his question?”

  Haines’s frown disappeared, replaced slowly by a sarcastic grin. “You’re serious? Tell me you’re not considering it.”

  Travis shrugged. “I can’t say it isn’t tempting. There are obvious benefits for the company, not to mention the good it could do.”

  “I think you should talk to Cal first. You know he’s not going to like it.”

  A laugh escaped Travis’s lips. “You’ve got that right. I don’t want to do it over the phone, though.” He pulled his cell out of his suit pocket. “Let me see if I can find us a flight home.”

  Chapter 4

  Dirksen Senate Office Building

  4:05 p.m., February 27th

  The massive building was empty. Senators and congressman were either hunkered down in their Capitol digs or already safely in their home states. Snow caked every window, casting a gray tint into hallways. A lone janitor, busy buffing the gleaming floor, nodded to Senator Milton Southgate as he walked by.

  Sen. Southgate was a twenty year pillar in the Senate. As Senate Majority Leader, Southgate ruled with a firm hand. Bookish in appearance, with thick glasses that had changed little since his first term, Milton Southgate led an extremely regimented life. After losing his wife years before, his obsessive tendencies intensified. For example, his aides knew to have sticky rollers on hand should a stray piece of lint appear on the senator’s well-worn suit. If they didn’t, well, it was best not to find out.

  No one would necessarily call the senator a miser, but Southgate was very particular on a great number of things, perhaps the most important being timeliness. He had fired more than his share of staff for failing to be on time. Being one minute late was a crime in the Senate Majority Leader’s office.

  His meeting was the reason he was the sole senator in the building during the snowstorm that had necessitated an emergency shutdown of the entire District of Columbia. Southgate had made an appointment and he meant to keep it. Blizzard be damned.

  Fully fifteen minutes early, Sen. Milton Southgate entered the reserved conference room. A patient man despite his compulsions, Southgate took a seat at the polished table, clasping his hands across his stomach.

  Precisely at 4:30 p.m., Congressman Antonio McKnight entered the room. He was alone. This surprised Southgate. The young Republican was known for his entourage. This should be interesting, thought the Democrat from Arizona. He’d never met McKnight in person, but like everyone in Washington, he’d seen plenty of the handsome man on television.

  “Senator Southgate, thank you so much for seeing me.” McKnight wal
ked around the conference table to shake hands.

  “You said it was important.”

  McKnight nodded, taking a seat at the head of the table. He thinks he belongs in that chair, Southgate mused. The senior senator had chosen a neutral chair in the middle of the ten person table.

  Exhaling dramatically, McKnight smiled. “Quite an interesting couple of months, wouldn’t you say?”

  Southgate wasn’t going to give the upstart an inch. He’d learned long ago that it was better to sit and listen. Instead of answering, he nodded.

  “I can only imagine what was going through your head when you heard about the President resigning. Were you there?” asked McKnight.

  “I was not.”

  “I was in Miami. I’m still in shock.”

  Again, a non-committal nod from Southgate. There was silence as the congressman gathered his thoughts.

  Southgate leaned forward an inch, looking over his glasses like a school teacher. “May I call you Antonio?”

  “Call me Tony.”

  “Antonio, I don’t mean to be inhospitable, but I drove through a snowstorm to meet you. Maybe we could get to the point.” It wasn’t said condescendingly. In fact, it was just the opposite, like a high school teacher patiently showing his student how to get a handle on calculus.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Like I said, I can only imagine how much upheaval the President’s resignation has caused. My party took it in the teeth when Nixon left, leaving Ford to pick up the pieces.” McKnight paused again, looking down at his hands. “Now, I know we’re on opposite sides of the aisle, but I think we can both agree that Zimmer, excuse me, President Zimmer, while likable, may not be the best fit to lead this country.”

  Southgate’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I care what you think? You’re talking about the President of the United States, an upstanding member of my party.”

  McKnight’s hands upturned in front of him. “Come on, Senator, you probably didn’t like it when a first-term congressman took over a very influential seat in the Senate. Now he’s President? You can’t tell me that doesn’t piss you off.”

  “Once again, I fail to see why I should sit and listen to your opinion. Then Congressman Zimmer won his father’s vacated seat honestly and overwhelmingly. His appointment to vice president was endorsed by both parties. He didn’t choose to be president. We all saw the look on his face at the news conference. Shock, plain and simple. He’s making the best of a very trying situation. Many of us have stepped forward to lend our expertise, and President Zimmer continues to be open to discussion in an extremely bipartisan manner. So, I will ask you one last time, Congressman, why should I sit and let you disparage our president?”

  Congressman Antonio McKnight placed his hands palm down on the conference table, a grin tugging at his cheek. “What if I told you that Zimmer planned the whole thing?”

  Chapter 5

  Camp Spartan, Arrington, TN

  9:28 p.m., February 27th

  There was a knock at the door. Cal lay sprawled on the leather couch in his suite at The Lodge, reading a W.E.B. Griffin novel. His favorite stories about the Marine Corps. He wasn’t expecting company, as evidenced by his attire: a pair of workout shorts and no shirt.

  Rolling off the couch and onto his feet, Cal padded to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was Travis.

  Cal opened the door. “Did you just get in?”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t fun, but we made it down through the weather.”

  “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks. You mind if I come in?”

  Cal swept his hand toward the spacious living area.

  “How was the trip? You didn’t tell me you were going.”

  Travis shrugged, stripping his coat off and putting it on a leather lounger. “It was fine. Mind if I grab a night cap?”

  Cal motioned to the well-stocked bar, slightly concerned by his cousin’s uncharacteristic restraint. Of the two, Travis was the more outgoing. Always had been.

  After pouring a drink, the SEAL kicked his shoes off and sat on the couch, careful to keep from spilling the full glass. Cal sat across from him in an armchair.

  “You gonna tell me what’s going on?”

  Travis sipped his drink, thinking. “I got an offer from the President.”

  “What kind of an offer?”

  Another sip and a pause. “He wants me to come work for him.”

  A bark of a laugh escaped Cal’s mouth. “What? You’re kidding.”

  Travis shook his head. “He needs help, Cal.”

  “Help doing what, getting the country deeper in debt?”

  The dirty blond CEO rested the glass on his knee and stared at his younger cousin. “Come on, Cal, be serious.”

  “I am being serious, Trav. What on God’s green Earth would he want you to do for him?”

  “He’s getting it from all sides, doesn’t know who to trust. Frankly, he’s pretty down right now. You should’ve heard what Marge said.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said he should take a look in the mirror and grow a pair.”

  Another laugh. “Maybe she’s right.” Cal clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back.

  “He’s our friend, Cal. You wouldn’t leave me to be fed to the wolves, would you?”

  “Of course not, but you’re not the President. What exactly does he want you to do?”

  “He wants me to be his Chief of Staff.”

  “What happened to the old Chief of Staff?”

  “He’s still there, but Brandon doesn’t trust him. Said he treats him like a child.”

  “Well, he is the youngest president in history.”

  “Cut the crap, Cal. I need to talk to you about this.”

  The smile left Cal’s face. Travis was right; Brandon Zimmer was a friend, even if he was the President. “Are you really thinking about doing it?”

  “Marge doesn’t think I should.”

  “Why not?”

  “SSI for one, but she also thinks Zimmer’s on his way out.”

  Cal sat up. “What do you mean?”

  “She thinks he’ll either burn out or get forced to go.”

  “But he was appointed fairly. Who would do something like that?”

  “Take your pick. I’ll bet there are a bunch of politicians who are pissed about Brandon being in office. After thinking about it on the way home, I think she’s right. If I was in line to be president and some rookie cut in line…you know how ruthless those bastards are.”

  Cal knew. If it were up to him, every crooked politician would be burned at the stake. “And you want to jump in the middle of this with him?”

  “I don’t know if I have a choice.”

  They sat quietly, Travis taking bigger and bigger gulps from his cocktail. Cal thought it was noble of his cousin to even consider the President’s request, but he was afraid of the repercussions. “Wait, why did Marge go with you? Why didn’t you take me or Dunn?”

  Travis shook the ice in the bottom of the empty glass. “The President invited her to come.”

  The hair on the back of Cal’s neck stood on end. “And?”

  “He wants her to come to D.C. and help with appointing new cabinet members when the time is right.”

  Cal’s eyes went wide. “He can’t fucking do that! That’s two of our top leaders, goddammit!”

  His cousin shrugged. “That’s what Marge said. She’s already called to tell the President no. She said she’d do what she could to help from here.”

  “Well that’s a relief. What about you?”

  “I think I’m gonna do it.”

  “Jeez, Trav. Have you thought about the company, our company? Who will run things while you’re off saving the President?”

  Travis held out his tumbler. “You will.”

  +++

  Washington, D.C.

  Senator Milton Southgate hadn’t left his office since concluding the meeting with Congressman McKnight. He’d cancelled
dinner plans with a friend, sighting the worsening weather. In reality, Sen. Southgate had too much to think about. Unmoving in his dimly lit cocoon, a Civil War era clock ticking on the corner of his desk, the veteran politician replayed McKnight’s accusations over and over.

  At first he’d scoffed at the idea, but as the evidence stacked up precariously in the air between the two bureaucrats, Southgate found himself coming to believe what the popular Florida congressman was saying. “I’ve looked into this myself, Senator. Trust me when I tell you that I would not have brought this to you unless I honestly believed it was true. I don’t want our country hurt by yet another scandal.”

  While the cautious senator didn’t believe McKnight’s motives, of which he was still curious, the revelations had stirred something in Southgate. The statesman from Arizona believed in order. He thought the new distractions of technology and social media a fad. He’d never carried a personal cell phone and never would. More than anything, he believed in his party’s place in the history of the United States of America. As a teenager he’d had books on great Democrats like FDR and JFK. He never developed the charisma of such men, but Southgate believed in his soul that the Democratic Party was the party of the future, anointed from heaven to lead the United States, and one day a world under one flag.

  Senator Milton Southgate didn’t want to be president, and never had. He preferred to work behind the scenes to safeguard the dream, to take care of the people. His social welfare programs had helped untold thousands, if not millions, to find a better life. He truly believed that.

  He’d known since the moment he heard the last President’s speech appointing Zimmer to his post that a solution would present itself to right the wrong. The idea lay hidden, never once uttered from Southgate’s lips. Instead, he showered the new President with wisdom and insight. Now…now he had a way out, a way to replace a piece of the Capitol chessboard.

  He sat in his darkened office until after the antique grandfather clock in the foyer clanged midnight. Now was not the time for sleep. Now was the time for action.