“Listen to me, Teddy, and listen very carefully. You can’t back out now, you little shit. I made you President of the United States. You belong to me and don’t you forget it.”
“No… I’m sorry.”
“Better. I had to kill good men to put you in the Oval Office, Teddy. Better men than you. I still have many unspeakable things to do just to keep you there, President Kimble. Don’t you think that has a certain ring to it?”
“Yes… yes, I suppose it does.” He sounded a little more relaxed now.
“Good. Now you remember why I gave you the job, right Teddy?”
“Of course.”
“I want it released immediately.”
“Sure, but…”
“No buts, Teddy.”
“I’m just saying that these things probably take time. They’re not going to release something like that just because I tell them to. If what you say is true we’re talking about a doomsday weapon that makes nukes look like a Sunday School picnic.”
“Tut tut, Teddy — I am surprised at you questioning my integrity like this. Of course what I say is true! And yes, we’re speaking of something very dangerous indeed — but you’re still talking like a common senator, the President pro tempore of the United States Senate, but you’re not that man anymore, Teddy.”
“No, I guess not…”
“Good guess. This morning I kidnapped Charles Grant and had the Vice President and Speaker of the House assassinated. For this reason, Teddy, and courtesy of the current order of the American presidential line of succession, you are now the President of the United States and the most powerful man on the planet, after me, naturally.”
“I understand.” As he spoke, he watched a young woman on the housekeeping staff gently place a tray of coffee and cookies on the table in the center of the room. Her name badge read Veronica Fisher. She glanced at him and smiled as she left the room and closed the door behind her.
Kiefel continued. “Good. And that is why when you order Archive 7 to release the item in question, they will do as they are commanded.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t forget the catalog number, Teddy.”
Kimble noticed his hand was trembling. “How could I forget?”
“Repeat after me, Mr President: X422387-0.”
“Listen…”
“Say it!” Kiefel barked.
Kimble swallowed hard. “X422387-0.”
“There’s a good president…”
The line went dead.
Teddy Kimble was starting to wish he could turn back time.
Frank Watkins took the call at his desk. He was still in shock at the news of what was unfolding all around in him in his home city, and he lowered the volume on the TV set in the corner of his office as he picked up the receiver.
“What is it, Mandy?”
“It’s a call from the President, sir.”
Watkins looked confused for a few seconds. “The president of what,” he said annoyed. “The Ford Motor Company?”
“The President of the United States, sir.”
“What?”
“His office is on the line, sir, and they say it’s urgent that the President speak with you right now.”
Watkins widened his eyes and scratched his head. On CNN they were showing pictures of the Jefferson Memorial. It was on fire and looked like it had been bombed. The same thing had happened to the Washington Monument. Now, Watkins was struggling with the issue of evacuating essential staff from the museum when this happens. What the hell would the President of the United States want to talk to the Director of the National Museum of Natural History for?
“Sure…, I mean, of course — put him through at once, Mandy — and then go home and be with your family.”
“Yes, sir… thanks.”
He listened as there was a change of ring-tones and then another woman’s voice came on the line.
He cleared his throat. “Hello?”
“Dr Watkins, this is the Executive Secretary to the President speaking.”
“Hello.”
“I’m going to put you through to the President now.”
“Thank you, and…”
The line clicked before he could finish his sentence.
“Frank, is that you?”
“This is Frank Watkins, sir, yes.”
“This is President Kimble, Frank. I’m calling you from the Oval Office.”
President Kimble? It had to be Teddy Kimble from the Senate. Things were moving fast, he thought. He wondered if they knew what had happened to President Grant — was he still alive or had the terrorists already done the unthinkable?
“I won’t say congratulations, Mr President. I know this is a terrible time for you to be charged with all this responsibility. This is a truly dreadful crisis.”
Kimble ignored the sentiment. “Frank, listen — I have to ask you something.”
“Anything, Mr President.”
“This is sensitive, Frank, but we need to talk about Archive 7.”
Watkins narrowed his eyes. “Archive 7, sir?”
“Level 7 in the archives under the National Mall, Frank.”
“I know what you’re referring to, sir, it’s just that…”
“Good, I need something released from the archive, Frank, and I need it done in a hurry.”
Watkins’s brow furrowed when he heard the new President’s tone. He sounded desperate and anxious, not qualities he wanted to hear in the voice of his Commander-in-Chief, and it made him suspicious. While the existence of Archive 7 was a long-running rumor on popular conspiracy theory websites, it had never been formally confirmed. More than that, the authorities had initiated a long-running disinformation campaign via agents posing as posters on the internet to rubbish any claims of its existence.
Watkins appreciated that he was one of a small handful of men who knew the top secret storage facility existed, and the others consisted of the Federal Government’s shiniest Top Brass — the President, naturally, being at the center of the inner circle.
But what he couldn’t understand was why Kimble was ordering the release of something from the archive within what could only be minutes of the Twenty-Fifth Amendment being invoked. It all seemed terribly odd to Frank Watkins. He sighed quietly and put his doubts aside. In the final assessment, he was talking to the President of the United States, and one generally did not say ‘no’ to the Commander-in-Chief.
“What do you need, sir?”
Kimble replied without hesitation. “The item in question is X422387-0.”
Watkins made a note of the serial number. There were countless thousands of items stored in Archive 7. It was impossible to know what they all were by serial number without looking them up. All he knew was if it was in Archive 7 then it meant trouble.
He tapped the number into his computer and was surprised to see he did not have the required clearance to see what it was. It simply said TOP SECRET/CODE WORD.
“This can only be released on Executive Order, sir.”
“And I signed that order a few moments ago. EO 15325, Frank — it formally orders the release of Item X422387-0.”
Another pause from Watkins as he contemplated the situation. There were very few things down in the archive that he was denied knowledge of, but this was obviously one of them. Again, he set his suspicions aside and gave Kimble the benefit of the doubt — whatever he was ordering out of the archive was obviously critical to the defense of the nation at this terrible time.
Reluctantly, Frank Watkins spoke into the telephone. “Yes, sir… the item in question will be released as requested.”
“Excellent. My men will be over immediately.”
Kimble ended the call and for a few moments Watkins simply stared into the buzzing receiver. He did not feel good about this at all.