Term Limits by Vince Flynn

Author:Vince Flynn
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Washington (D.C.), Assassination, Political, General, Politicians, Thriller, Thrillers, Fiction, Espionage
ISBN: 9780671023188
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 1999-07-01T07:00:00+00:00

24

PRESIDENT STEVENS WAS PRESIDING OVER A cabinet meeting when Jack Warch entered the room and walked up behind him. Warch bent over and whispered into Stevens’s ear. Without warning, Stevens slammed his fist down on the table and shouted an expletive. The president stood so quickly he almost knocked his chair over. Pointing at Mike Nance, who was sitting at the opposite end of the table, he yelled, “My office, right now!” On his way toward the door, he slapped Garret on the shoulder and said, “Come on, Stu, you too.” Stevens, Garret, Nance, and Warch filed out of the room, leaving the wide-eyed cabinet members wondering what was going on.

The distance between the Cabinet Room and the Oval Office was less than thirty feet. Stevens was walking fast and shaking his head. When he reached the door to his office, he abruptly stopped and started back in the opposite direction. Warch, Nance, and Garret stopped as Stevens pointed down the hall and said, “Let’s do this in the Situation Room.” As he passed Mike Nance, he pointed at him and said, “Get Stansfield, Roach, and Tracy over here immediately.”

No one talked as they followed Stevens down the stairs to the basement. A posted agent opened the door to the Situation Room, and the president, Garret, Nance, and Warch entered. Stevens picked up a remote that was sitting on top of the large conference table and pointed it at the far wall. As the wood panel slid to the side revealing eight television sets, the president looked at the TVs and muttered, “This is unbelievable.”

Five of the eight TVs were broadcasting images of Olson’s charred limo. Garret looked at Mike Nance, but Nance ignored him. Garret then looked at Stevens and tried to get a read on his temperament.

Garret attempted to ask a question, but before he could get more than two words out, Stevens said, “Quiet. I don’t want to hear anyone say a word.”

They all watched the TVs in silence. About five minutes later, Secret Service director Tracy arrived, and he and Warch retreated to the far corner to talk. The president stepped even closer to the TVs and turned up the volume, drowning out the noise of the conversation behind him. Roach arrived a short while later, and Stansfield almost twenty minutes after the call had gone out. After several minutes of Stevens not acknowledging the arrival of the three directors, Garret walked up beside him and said, “Jim, everyone is here.”

Stevens walked to the head of the table and stood between the rest of the room and the TVs. Looking down the long table, he said, “Sit!” Everyone took a chair and Stevens began squeezing the back of his high leather chair. With a look of utter frustration Stevens asked, “Can anyone tell me how in the hell a United States senator gets killed in broad daylight less than a mile from the White House?”

No one answered the question. The silence added to the frustration Stevens felt, and a rage started to press its way forward from the back of his head.

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