Justice in the Capital by Rob Shumaker

Author:Rob Shumaker [Shumaker, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

The White House – Washington, D.C.

The President had been alerted to the mayhem in Boston shortly after it started. He had been getting ready for bed, but instead found himself leaving the White House Residence on his way to the West Wing. Once there, he summoned Vice President Stubblefield, the Secretaries of Defense and Homeland Security, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff to the White House to meet in the Situation Room.

The Vice President arrived first, and neither of them was in a good mood. It had become an all-too-often occurrence lately. On hold on the phone, the President mumbled an expletive when Stubblefield walked in. He flicked his hand toward the opposite end for Stubblefield to take a look at what was going on.

Stubblefield walked to the wall of TV monitors to take in the destruction. Pictures of flaming cars and trees seemed to play on an endless loop. Most of the views came from news choppers because reporters were too afraid to make a live report from the ground. Live feeds from the Boston Police Department showed thousands of rioters destroying everything they could. Statues were toppled and dumped in the Public Garden. American flags were torn down and torched. Total destruction.

Having ended his call, the President punched a button and waited for the duty officer to come on the line. “Get the FBI Director on the phone.”

“Yes, sir.” The man’s voice came over the speakerphone.

While he waited, the President drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table. “What a mess.”

Stubblefield was shaking his head in disgust. He was in full agreement with the President’s assessment. Neither of them knew whether the police had been overrun or whether this was another progressive city looking the other way as anarchists “exercised their right to free speech.”

Either way, the President was looking to put an end to it. And he was ticked off that it had already taken this long. He looked at his watch. “Where the hell is everybody?”

The duty officer’s voice came over the speakerphone. “Sir, Director Duncan is unavailable.”

The President wondered if he heard correctly. He picked up the receiver. “I’m sorry?”

“Director Duncan is unavailable to take your call, sir.”

“What do you mean he’s unavailable?”

“His chief of staff said he’s away from the phone and the Director had given him instructions not to be bothered.”

“Did you tell him who was calling?”

“Yes, sir. I said the White House was calling.”

“Get me the Deputy Director then.” The President kept the phone to his ear, waiting. He looked like he was going to throw the phone through one of the TVs on the wall. “I ought to fire Duncan right now.”

“Mr. President, Deputy Director Lynch is on line one.”

“Thank you.” The President stabbed the button for line one and didn’t wait to find out who was listening on the other end. “Where the hell is your boss?”

Caught off guard, Deputy Director Lynch coughed trying to catch the breath that had just been knocked out of him by the force of the President’s verbal blow.

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