“I warned you once,” said Gurd, shaking a finger at Steve.
“Senator, let’s not play games,” said Steve, pausing to refill Gurd’s empty glass. “I know for a fact that privately you’re disgusted with the man. You were dead set against him before the election. You’d like nothing better than to see him tossed out.”
“Jane talks too much,” said Gurd. He took another large sip, and then looked squarely at Steve. “Okay. We made mistakes, serious mistakes. But that’s the past. Fact is, Stokes won. He’s president. I was told you wanted to talk about the future…not history.”
“Senator, Jane also said I can trust you, that you’re a real patriot.”
“Son, we’re both trusting each other right now.”
“Understood. There’s a small group of us who worked on the hacking report. We’re very good at our job. We think Stokes is a great threat. Not just to America but the world.”
“Agreed,” said Gurd.
“Agreed also,” said Steve, “that at least for now, there’s no likelihood of a military coup.”
“Not yet,” said Gurd. “But who knows what crazy orders Stokes might try to give the generals down the road?”
“We can’t count on that,” said Steve. “Which means that the Congress and the Senate are the only ones who can protect this country. But what are you doing? You’ve already seen how unhinged he is: the visa disaster, the fiasco in Iraq, Yemen, and the threat of a naval blockade of China. The constant lying and insults. Announcing policy by tweets. What more do you need?”
“It’s too soon,” said Gurd.
“Too soon? Do we wait until he launches a real war to distract attention from the huge mess he’s created at home? What do you think he would do if there were another terrorist attack in this country? It would be like the Reichstag Fire.”
“Some of us are worried about just the same possibility,” said Gurd.
“Only some? Why isn’t there a mutiny?”
“Mutiny?”
“The 25th Amendment – you know it by heart, Senator.”
Gurd took another a long sip. ”If the vice president can convince the majority of the cabinet that the president is incapacitated in some way, then they inform the speaker of the house and president of the Senate and the vice president then takes over.”
“A kind of mutiny,” said Steve.
“Except,” said Gurd, “there’s no way this vice president is going to do that – not yet anyway.”
“Isn’t he ambitious?” said Steve.
“Of course,” said Gurd, “but not suicidal. Like I said, it’s premature. Don’t forget, also according to the 25th Amendment, if the president wants to resist, he can. Then Congress has three weeks to vote on the question. And you can be damn sure Stokes would lash back with a vengeance. Two-thirds of each house would have to agree that Stokes is incapacitated. My fellow Republicans control both houses. You think they’re going to toss out their own president? Not even if there were pictures of him on YouTube buggering the pope!”
Gurd put his hand on Steve’s arm. “Let me give you a bit of American history, son, something most people haven’t heard. When Ronald Reagan totally lost it in his second term, when his attention span was nil – nil, the folks around him finally become alarmed enough to consider using the 25th Amendment. But even then, they never did. Instead, they covered up for him, left him in office until the very end, with his quivering finger on the nuclear button.”
“What about impeachment?” asked Steve. “If Congress was willing to impeach Bill Clinton for lying about an Oval Office blow job… Look what you’ve already got on Stokes.”
“Same problem,” said Gurd, stroking his goatee. “You still need a majority in the House and two-thirds in the Senate. Bottom line, son, to date, not a single U.S. president has been removed from office by impeachment in the House and conviction in the Senate. God knows more than a handful merited it.”
“So you’re willing to let a lunatic control the nuclear codes.”
“Lunatic? Let us not exaggerate.”
Steve leaned forward, “Senator, Stokes is seriously unbalanced – probably psychotic.”
“I take it you are an expert in this matter?”
“Ask any good psychiatrist,” said Steve. “I have. Plenty have written about it. He’s a pathological liar, an extreme narcissist and out of control.”
Gurd raised both hands. “All right. Let’s suppose he’s not completely sane. He’s also a viper. Most of my colleagues are cowards to the core. They’re scared shitless of Stokes and his tweets. They were spineless even before he took office. Now that he’s president with all the power in the world, don’t expect any rush to oppose him. Not until they think he’s been defanged.”
Steve leaned forward again to refill Gurd’s empty glass. “There’s something else you haven’t mentioned, Senator,” he said. “We found that the Russians also hacked into the Republican National Committee’s files. You can bet they dug up plenty of outrageous stuff: corruption, hypocrisy, sexual habits that would make a Moscow whore blush.”
The senator’s lips tightened. “Yes, I must say I have heard something along those lines.”
“None of what they found ever got out to the media,” said Steve. “We’re pretty sure the Russians fed some of the wildest tidbits to Stokes so he can keep uncooperative Republicans in line.”
“The Russians must also have plenty of stuff on Stokes himself,” said Gurd.
“Do they have stuff on you too, Senator?”
Gurd avoided Steve’s gaze. “They may have.”
“May have?”
“They do.”
“Jesus,” said Steve, raising both arms. “Does that mean it’s all over? You’ve already surrendered? How outrageous do things have to get for you people to act?”
The senator put down his glass. “Look, Steve, I can get the Republicans to crawl out from under wherever they’re hiding – and I include myself there – but only if you’ve got overwhelming evidence to nail the bastard. It’s got to be stuff that will make even the white workers in Milwaukee scream for his scalp. Give us that, maybe we can do something.”
“Maybe?”
“That’s all I promise. But I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”
“What about the stuff the Russians have on you?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
CHAPTER NINE:
Falls Church
The following day, Steve called into his office again to say he was still sick. “It’s the flu, the doctor says. I’ll be out for another few days. Boring as hell staying at home, but I’ve got no choice.” What he didn’t add is that there was nothing for him to do in the office either.
Then he contacted Charlie and Sarah and gave them a rendezvous for the next evening at Big Chimney Park in Falls Church. “No cell phones. Leave them somewhere. Don’t just turn them off as you come close. Make damn sure you’re not tailed. And Moscow rules.”
Moscow rules was shorthand for precautions drilled into all field agents during their training: Assume nothing. Never go against your gut. Everyone is potentially under opposition control. Don’t look back, you’re never completely alone. Go with the flow, blend in. Vary your pattern and stay within your cover. Lull them into a sense of complacency. Don’t harass the opposition. Pick the time and place for action. Keep your options open. And Steve’s favorite: Technology will always let you down.
Difficult to believe, thought Steve, that he would ever feel obliged to use such rules in America. But already his country was no longer America. On the way to the park, he changed taxis three times, always alert to the patterns of traffic and faces. He walked the last mile on foot, wearing his backpack. Twice along the park paths, he reversed his route. He finally met the three other agents at a wooden picnic table in a grove of hemlocks, shielded from anyone casually passing by.