The President's Jihadist

THE PRESIDENT’S

JIHADIST

Harris Basema.n

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

The President’s Jihadist

Copyright © 2012 by Harris Baseman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4759-6173-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4759-6174-4 (ebk)

iUniverse rev. date: 11/19/2012

Contents

Prequel

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

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18

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58

PREQUEL

This novel continues the story started in After Kamisiyah, and then in The Accidental President. The true event that starts the journey for our fictional President, Ben Silver and our fictional assassin, Clarence Davenport was the cover-up of an ill-fated mission in Iraq to destroy an ammunition dump at Kamisiyah, Iraq by American Forces that resulted in the exposure of almost one hundred thousand of our soldiers to Sarin Gas and other toxic chemicals. The top brass who failed to warn the troops of the danger and their powerful political allies denied it happened and then attempted to minimize the numbers involved with the result that many of our soldiers endured illness without proper medical attention and some even died. Here, in The President’s Assassin, Clarence Davenport, one of the men made ill in that action, reappears with a new role to play as does Ben Silver who was thrust into the Presidency by Davenport’s assassination of his predecessor. While Silver continues to try and hold the country together as others attempt to destroy him, he receives a shocking offer from Davenport.

As in the prior novels where many scenarios are raised that could be true, like the use of suitcase nuclear bombs manufactured by the Soviet Union and the use of model airplanes to deliver explosives, The President’s Assassin imagines the planning of a means to assassinate the President that utilizes a very feasible device. It is noteworthy that very recently a terrorist plan to use model airplanes carrying explosives to bomb the Pentagon by Rezwah Federaus resulted in his being sentenced to 17 years in prison by a Federal Court in Boston, Massachusetts on Nov. 1, 2012.

In The President’s Assassin, much is said about the use of thorium as a nuclear fuel, desalinating ocean water, growing sugar cane, producing ethanol and then using it as a fuel in flex fuel automobiles manufactured in the United States. I believe all that is said is essentially true and quite possible.

We can only hope that real life terrorists can be defeated as competently as the fictional ones that populate the novels and that our elected officials can solve problems almost as well as our fictional president.

Harris Baseman

1

It had been one year since Roger Butler was inaugurated as President of the United States. It had also been exactly one year since Roger Butler was assassinated. The Inauguration day murder of President Butler, his Vice-President, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, the President of the Senate and every member of the Presidential cabinet present at the Inauguration who could succeed Butler as President had plunged the nation into a state of total confusion and panic.

The assassin, disguised as a G.S.A. electrician, had placed explosives in the teleprompter and speakers ringing the temporary viewing stands and exploded them moments after Butler was sworn in. Every minute of the resulting disaster was therefore captured on television. As the dust settled, the nation saw the bodies and body parts that were strewn about throughout the wreckage of the temporary seating and viewing stands. The image of the blood spattered body of Ginny Parsons, the diminutive wife of the retiring former president, with her white, woolen dress immodestly hiked up to mid-thigh height was repeatedly shown by all the TV networks. Her blood spattered body had become the symbol of the most unimaginable event that had ever occurred in the nation and had been imprinted forever in the shocked minds of a stunned public.

Minutes after the explosions, somber-faced news anchors reported that Defense Secretary Wilson had been murdered in his cabin in the woods near Washington in the early hours of the morning before the Inauguration. By law, Wilson had not been allowed to attend the Inauguration to assure the line of Presidential succession in case of a disaster like that which had just taken place. As the broadcasters wondered who could then succeed to the Presidency, the stations had cut away to a picture showing a screaming ambulance surrounded by a phalanx of Secret Service escort vehicles on their way to the hospital as another voice reported another breaking news bulletin. Secretary of Agriculture Benson had been found in the rubble and resuscitated. Moments later, one unsmiling anchor, straying from the usual anti-religious stance of his network, suggested that everyone pray for Secretary Benson, as he might be the sole survivor who could legally become the new President.

When it was learned the next day that Benson had died and that the relatively obscure Secretary of Education, Ben Silver, had inexplicably at the last moment decided not to attend the Inauguration and that he had been inaugurated as President, the shock and confusion in the country had escalated even further. It hadn’t helped that the gossip about the bitter prior disagreement between Silver and Butler while both were cabinet members in the Parson’s administration and about Silver’s refusal to endorse Butler’s candidacy was resurrected and re-examined from every possible vantage point.

What the nation would never know was that after Silver had been detained by the New Jersey State Police on the Jersey Turnpike while driving back to Boston, FBI Director Winters had concluded that Silver must have been involved in the assassination; fearing that the identity of all the participants in the assassination might never be uncovered and that Silver might become the President of the United States and hoping to quiet the unrest and panic he knew would grip the country, Winters had instructed his assistant, Walter Wagner, to take protective custody of Silver and arrange it so that it would look like Silver was killed while trying to escape. All that had saved Silver was the concurrent jurisdiction of the Secret Service and the decision of a New Jersey state police captain to give custody of Ben Silver to Secret Service Agent, Tom Andrews instead of FBI Agent Walter Wagner. When the next day by the media, the police captain explained that he chose the Secret Service over the FBI solely because Andrews agreed that Silver could take his two pet dogs, an English Bulldog named Ace and a black Pug named Deuce riding in his car with him on the Secret Service helicopter while Wagner indicated that he would send them to a kennel somewhere. It seems the police captain was a dog person.

Later that day and night, after an exhaustive interrogation by Andrews and other members of the Secret Service which included a two hour polygraph test, the Secret Service was convinced that Ben Silver had nothing to do with the assassinations. They accepted his explanation that he didn’t like President Butler and was fed up with the whole Washington scene. He stated that he had originally intended to attend the inauguration only because President Parsons had asked him to do so, but that his desire to get home and resume his normal life won out and he decided on an early drive back to Boston.

At four o’clock in the morning, Ben Silver had been sworn in as President of the United States in a simple procedure devoid of all pomp and ceremony. A stunned American public were further shocked the next morning to wake and hear the media announce that the man many believed was responsible for the Inauguration Day Massacre was now the President of the United States.

Although there was no scrap of evidence of any kind implicating Ben Silver in the assassination and although he was exhaustively examined and cross-examined and cleared of any knowledge of or involvement in the assassinations, Washington lived up to its reputation as the rumor and gossip capitol of the nation. It was not long before political pundits from both parties decided that Ben Silver must have been involved. They asked each other, Who else benefitted?

Washington’s insiders spent most of the next year trying to get rid of Silver by persuading him to resign or by impeachment or any other means possible if he wouldn’t resign while conditions in the country worsened with demonstrations and riots an almost daily event. There was no relief from that constant pressure until the nation learned many months later that the assassin was a disgruntled Army veteran of the Iraqi war named Clarence Davenport who had no previous connection with Ben Silver. When it became known that he was the assassin, Davenport sent copies of what he called his Manifesto explaining why he did what he did to the media who published the entire rambling document explaining his grievances and what he wanted to accomplish.

The country was again stunned when they learned that many of the riots plaguing the nation were instigated by Silver’s chief antagonist, Senator Jebediah Davies, in an effort to force President Silver’s impeachment. At almost the same time, the nation also learned that President Silver had worked quietly and efficiently with Federal forces to intercept and defeat a massive attack on the United States planned by Muslim Jihadists that would have killed hundreds of thousands if not millions of Americans in the United States.

As a result of all the disclosures, at long last, there were people in the country willing to see what kind of President Ben Silver might be.

2

Clarence Davenport was completely relaxed for the first time in almost two years. He looked out the window at the rear of his new home at his garden below. His mind wandered back to the garden in the home he had once shared with his mother in Virginia and he dreamily thought back again to the very sad time when his mother passed away and he started on the journey that took him here. He took his wallet out of the back pocket of his trousers and removed from it a many times creased sheet of stationery and reread the note his mother left for him to find after her death. That was when he first learned that he was the bastard child of a foreign student from Saudi Arabia and an even younger teenager from Washington, D.C. who worked as a cashier in the college’s student cafeteria. He recalled that he had become obsessed with learning just who he was. That was well before he had decided to kill anyone.

Confused by what he had learned, he went to London to talk with the lawyer who he learned from the court papers had negotiated the financial settlement with his biological mother and the custody arrangement that ended with his adoption by the Davenports. He learned from the British lawyer that his biological father had been one of a multitude of minor princes in the House of Saud and was now deceased and that he was a therefore a member of that family and a nephew of the lawyer, Omar Rabbani, a Saudi expatriate and respected English solicitor. Clarence recalled how much he had enjoyed his lengthy visit with his uncle, Omar, and how much he now missed him. As he remembered their discussions about American politics and the terrible injustice Clarence and his men had experienced as a result of their demolition operation at Kamisiyah, Iraq during Desert Storm, Clarence once again wondered how much of what he did at the Inauguration was really his idea. He had now begun to increasingly trend toward a conclusion that he been manipulated into doing it by his uncle, but it didn’t bother him. He still mourned the death of his uncle.

His mind wandered back to the outrage he felt when he learned that it was the negligence and stupidity of his commanding officers, Roger Butler and Dan Wilson, that had sent him as a young Second Lieutenant to Kamisiyah in Iraq in command of a mission to destroy an ammunition dump located there without warning them that it contained Sarin gas and other toxic chemicals. Army Intelligence had furnished an inventory of what was in the ammo dump to Butler and Wilson and their failure to tell the troops they commanded what was there resulted in the prolonged illness of Davenport and most of his men and the death of several. Their failure was worsened by their attempted cover-up of the facts and denial of responsibility that caused the denial of proper medical care. He once again felt the fury he initially felt when he learned the truth and realized that Butler and Wilson had managed to avoid any responsibility for their failures and were instead rewarded by a seemingly uncaring nation, Butler with election to the Presidency and Wilson with an appointment as Secretary of Defense.

He did what he did expecting that all the successors to the Presidency would have been killed and that he would thereby have caused a Constitutional crisis. He hoped that the result would be the re-examination of the structure of a system of government that he believed had been changed and perverted into the bickering and ineffective institution it had become by corrupt politicians like Butler and Wilson and many other members of the Congress and the Federal bureaucracy. That Silver had survived had been a source of frustration. Looking at failure and discovery and punishment, he finally fled, going to Ireland, faking his death there and then returning to his uncle’s home in England.

Rabbani had again welcomed Clarence and told him that he had liked his failed plan. He agreed that he believed that it would have brought fundamental change to the United States and said it would have ultimately been good for the entire world, including Saudi Arabia. When Rabbani had first told him that chaos in the U.S. was a desired pre-condition to his plan to depose the royal family he couldn’t understand it, but in very short order, he mastered Rabbani’s crash course in Middle-Eastern politics, the Muslim religion and the various fanatics that laid claim to the religion. The more he understood, the more he agreed that the chaos in the U.S. created by the assassinations would be seen as a sign by Al Qaeda and other fanatics that the time was right for them to seize power in the Saudi kingdom. It would be a time of crisis when the U.S. would probably be unwilling to use their military power to stop a coup by Al Qaeda.

He also had come to accept Rabbani’s view that the U.S. would, after a short time, realize that the West could not survive with Al Qaeda controlling the Saudi oil reserves. Rabbani had predicted that the U.S. would move into Saudi Arabia, destroy the fanatics and look for a descendant of the House of Saud with secular values with whom they could form an alliance. Rabbani explained that he believed that he and his group of dissidents from Saudi Arabia living in London would be those new rulers of the oil kingdom. They would establish a westernized, democratic kingdom in Arabia similar to that of their adopted home of Great Britain. They saw themselves as that successor because the U.S., Great Britain and most members of the European Union saw Rabbani and his associates as their friends and the ones they would like to see as the ruler of the Saudi kingdom.

Clarence had to admit that his Uncle Omar could have been right. The success of his plan might have caused fundamental change in the U.S., but it was likely to have also led to the end of the Saud royal family if the things his uncle predicted would actually have happened. If Rabbani had indeed manipulated him, it was a worthwhile gamble. He recalled Rabbani regretfully saying after he met him following the failure of his assassination plan that he believed that even if there had been only one successor to the Presidency it could still have worked. The Assassination would still have been seen as a favorable omen by the fanatics if the survivor had been anyone other than Ben Silver. Ben Silver, a Jew, surviving and becoming President, however, was seen as an unfavorable omen by Al Qaeda and the fanatics and upset Rabbani’s plan. Clarence recalled Rabbani’s exact words, Instead of a leaderless United States, Al Qaeda and the fanatics of the Muslim world found themselves having to deal with a Jewish president who had control of the American military. That reality was a situation they were not willing to confront.

Clarence sat and remembered that after they finished discussing what Clarence had done, Rabbani went on to recruit him into a new and equally complicated plan that required him to join an Al Qaeda training camp in Iraq as an explosives expert and work to devise a plan to attack the United States that would set the stage for Rabbani’s eventual take over in Saudi Arabia, similar to his prior scheme. He had done so with a plan that included the destruction of all of the bridges and tunnels out of Manhattan and the bombarding of the isolated population trapped on that island with Sarin gas and other toxic chemicals. As before, Rabbani’s plan anticipated that after a successful attack, the United States would retaliate, depose the Saud royal family and look to Rabbani and his associates to take control of Arabia and its oil reserves. The plan might even have worked. He had in some ways almost regretted destroying the plan he had developed. It would have been interesting to watch it unfold.

Clarence remembered how he felt when he learned that his former comrades in terrorism had terminated the uneasy peace among the factions of their movement and killed Rabbani, his half-brother, Neil and his girl friend, Fatima in this apartment. They destroyed the new life he planned for himself. He was normally very cautious and planned every move he made, but not this time. He impetuously switched sides and contacted Molly Pemberton, the Secret Service Agent who finally discovered his identity and tried to arrest him and sent her a complete set of the jihadists’ plans to attack the United States.

At about the same time, he impetuously returned to the United States and killed Senator Davies because he knew that Davies was behind the troubles that plagued the United States after the Inauguration Day Massacre. Killing FBI Director Winters because he was with Davies was an unexpected bonus. As he sat and thought about those things, his decision to avenge the death of his uncle, save the United States from the attack and killing Davies and Winters felt right. Maybe it was because he still considered the United States as his home.

Still introspectively relaxing in the London home he had inherited from his uncle Omar, Davenport sadly felt the loss of his uncle, his half-brother, Neil, and his girl friend, Fatima. Now he would take some time to reflect on what he had done and decide how he wanted to live out the rest of his life without them. He had achieved the justice he had desired for his friends with whom he had served in the military by killing President Butler and the others responsible for their illness and eventual death. True, there was collateral damage. Innocent people were killed, but, as he learned when he was in the United States Army, collateral damage is inevitable in most operations. He was sorry that there were innocents among the people who he had killed, but that was an inevitable result of trying to do what he did and he would have no regrets. He had failed to destroy the United States government with the Inauguration day assassination, but as he reflected on it, he was not clear about how much of that had really been his idea and how much had been Uncle Omar’s. As he re-read the Manifesto he had written and sent to President Silver and the media after Molly Pemberton tried to arrest him, he still thought that there were lots of good ideas in it, but he had begun to feel that it was almost childish of him to think the kind of change he wanted could be accomplished in that way. But, was that any more absurd than the subsequent plan he worked on with his uncle? He’d have to think that through.

Clarence rose from his chair, went into the kitchen and prepared a breakfast of Weetabix and milk and coffee. After breakfast he went into the bathroom. After he finished shaving, he started to leave the bathroom and turned towards the exit door that featured a full length mirror on the inside of the door. He was still not used to the lean six foot, one inch body he saw that was the result of the regimen he followed during his time in a terrorist training camp in Iraq. He went back and stared at the new face he received from plastic surgeons in Switzerland. It continued to surprise him every time he looked in the mirror. He left the bathroom and folded his frame back into his favorite armchair. It was the only new furniture purchase he made for his new home, everything else was purchased by the decorator he hired to replace the furniture destroyed in the suicide bombing that killed his uncle and the only other people who knew who he was. As he sat in front of the window overlooking the small private garden at the back of his townhouse, he thought about all of the recent events that had resulted in his becoming one of the most hated and feared men in the United States. His mind wandered back to the United States. Was the fact that he could never live there again that made him miss it so? How did he really feel about the United States? Why did he send the plans for the attack he helped devise to Molly Pemberton, the former Secret Service Agent whom he tricked into thinking he was going to kill himself? He remembered how she had pleaded with him not to do that; and it was not the first time he had corresponded with her. He had devised a plan early on in his association with the Al Qaeda fanatics to kill Ben Silver with a large, remote-controlled, model airplane carrying explosives. When it became apparent to Clarence that the plan, when carried out, might also succeed in killing Molly Pemberton, he sent her an e-mail warning that saved Ben’s life as well as Molly’s. He never fully understood why he did that or why he warned her of a second plan to kill the President with a fertilizer bomb in the Rose Garden. Was it only because she tried to talk him out of killing himself when she thought he was going to do that by blowing up his house? Did he think about Molly Pemberton and want to see her because he could never do that? Perhaps he’ll never know. As he sat thinking he recalled how he impetuously decided to send the plans for the attacks to Molly Pemberton. He wondered whether it was his infatuation with her that resulted in his doing what he did? Did he return to the United States using one of the many false identities Rabbani and his group had made for him just to be in the same country she was in? Or did he do it because he still considered himself an American and because he had decided that Ben Silver was different from the rest of those politicians? Killing Senator Jebediah Davies was doing Ben Silver an unasked for favor. Did he feel good about killing Winters because he had said some nasty things about Molly Pemberton? He’ll maybe never understand it fully. It was strange, but it was as a result of what he did and the subsequent seizure of Winters’ confidential files and effects after his death that the world discovered that it was indeed Senator Davies along with Director Winters who had instigated the events that lead to the rioting and chaos that were all designed to force Silver from the Presidency and feed the political ambitions of Davies and Winters.

Clarence continued to sit in the arm chair covered in a flowery fabric design that reminded him of his mother. He continued to stare out the window of his London home and wonder about what he ought to do next. How does he get on with his life? He thought it would include his uncle, his half brother, Neil and Fatima, but they were all gone now. How could he allow their deaths to go un-avenged? Destroying the terrorist attack plan was not enough. He would have to find and kill everyone responsible for the murder of his uncle, Neil and Fatima before he could think about what he would do with the rest of his life.

3

President Silver glanced at the morning newspapers brought into the breakfast room along with his breakfast by a white-jacketed White House attendant. This morning, breakfast was orange juice, an English muffin with cream cheese, two fried eggs and the one daily cup of regular coffee Ben allowed himself to have. The newspapers were the New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, the LA Times and his home town Boston Globe, so he could follow the Celtics and Bruins at this time of the year along with the Patriots who were again going to the Super Bowl.

This morning, unlike most mornings, the headlines were not unfavorable. The massive terrorist plot had been foiled; most of the terrorists were dead or in the custody of the military. The efficient way in which the attack was prevented and the principal terrorists and their foot soldiers captured had succeeded in terminating all talk of impeachment and reversed public opinion from opposition to Ben Silver into one of a grudging respect for and appreciation of what had been accomplished. The news that the mysteriously killed Senator Davies and F.B.I. Director P.J. Winters were guilty of monstrous crimes against the people of the United States had shocked the nation and the media even further and added to Ben’s new found acceptance and favorability ratings.

Of course, a few pundits did question whether more force than was necessary was employed and objected that the apprehensions should have been by the F.B.I. and that since the captured terrorists were not read their rights, they were improperly held in custody. A very small number even suggested that Ben caused the planned attack with his decision to terminate foreign aid to Muslim nations hostile to the United States, while an even smaller number whispered that his being Jewish was enough of a provocation to cause their enmity. Others complained that the incursion by the military across the border into Canada and Mexico to capture terrorists in those areas who were poised to strike American cities across the border was not proper and should have been done by the F.B.I in a cooperative operation with Canadian and Mexican law enforcement authorities.

Ben had explained that he had regarded the terrorists as enemy combatants and that they were captured like enemy on a battlefield. He pointed out that the culture at the F.B.I. was to gather evidence and help prepare criminal cases to be tried in court, not to wage war against an ideological army. The great majority of the public agreed with the sentiments Ben expressed that it would have prejudiced the operations to have disclosed what they were doing to the F.B.I. or to Mexican and Canadian authorities and that Ben had done the right thing in preventing the massive attack, even if many TV analysts, newspaper editors and columnists and academics questioned the legality of the procedure. The revelation of the role played by F.B.I. Director, and Senator Davies in the murder of Jane Cabot’s husband and planting of evidence designed to pin the murder on Ben and his Chief of Staff, Tom Andrews sealed the case for the general public. The President was right in not trusting their safety to the F.B.I. and Ben was regarded by most Americans, at least for the moment, as a more than acceptable President.

Ben had switched to a pot of decaffeinated coffee and was reading the Boston Globe’s analysis of the off-season trades and signings by the Red Sox when his phone rang. He was expecting Jane Cabot’s morning call. This morning they were going to discuss their future together. He and Jane had discussed Ben’s resigning the presidency once the crisis died down and, now that Jane’s husband was dead, about getting married, but it wasn’t Jane, it was Molly Pemberton. Without even a hello, Molly blurted out, Mr. President, it’s me Molly. I have to see you immediately.

Puzzled, Ben said, What’s it about.

I don’t want to say over the phone. I’m right outside the White House. Can I see you now?

Ben told her to come right up, cleared it with security and minutes later, Molly joined Ben in the breakfast room. She declined breakfast and coffee, and when they were alone, she removed a sheet of paper from her brief case and said, as she handed it to Ben, From Clarence Davenport. It just came this morning.

Ben read the e-mail note.

Dear Molly,—You and your boss did a nice job in rolling up the terrorists. Glad to be helpful. In case you’re wondering, it was me that terminated Davies and Winters. I’m thinking about what I want to do with the rest of my time on earth. Perhaps I’ll be able to do you some more favors down the road. I have some ideas that may be interesting to you and your boss. I have to think it through and I’ll get back to you in a few days.—Clare—

P.S. Thanks for not mentioning it was me that sent the information to you about the terrorist attacks. I guess after Winters’ announcement every one in the U.S decided I was dead. And they say women can’t keep secrets.

Ben read the note three times before he put it down. He turned to Molly and said, Incredible. When I heard that Davies and Winters were killed with a remote-controlled plane I thought it might have been Davenport. That was the same kind of a plan he warned us about the first time the jihadists tried to kill me in the Rose Garden. It could have been a copy-cat, but not very many people knew the particulars of that plan. What do you make of it?

Molly shook her head. I don’t know, Mr. President. You never disclosed that I heard from someone who said he was Davenport after Winters announced that Davenport was dead and his body recovered in the Aran Islands. I thought you would after he told me about the remote-controlled model airplane and again after he told me about the fertilizer bomb in the Rose Garden.

Ben shook his head and shrugged. Everyone believed Winters and I felt that no one would believe me. There was nothing to be gained from my saying I thought Winters was mistaken and we have no real proof it’s really him.

Molly nodded and said, He gave us information that saved our lives twice, now. It would have been ungrateful of us to have blown his cover.

That too, Ben said with a smile. Ben paused a moment and in a more serious vein, he continued, Very frankly, I also thought that it would be misunderstood and seen as further evidence of my association with Davenport, proving I used him to get to the Presidency. Who would believe that he gave us that information because he didn’t want you hurt or killed? I mean, after all, he killed hundreds of innocent men, women and even children, and then he won’t kill a woman who wants to arrest him for what he did. It’s too fantastic to be believed. Ben frowned, I think my saying anything then or now would just be used as an excuse to make our very difficult situation even worse.

Molly shook her head and smiled wryly. Who would believe that the only time I ever spoke to Clarence Davenport was when John Wallace and I were in his house and I asked him to not blow himself up.

I agree. Don’t take this the wrong way, Molly. You are a very attractive young woman, but it’s difficult to accept that a criminal killer like Clarence Davenport could become so quickly infatuated with you after doing the things he did as a result of one very brief meeting with you.

I’m not insulted, Mr. President. I’m as astounded as you are. Maybe it was just someone not wanting him dead. Molly paused a moment and then said, We now know from his history that his biological mother and the rest of her family rejected him, except for his grandfather and he’s dead now. The only person he seems to have been close to was his adoptive mother. Perhaps I remind him of her.

Ben smiled, I doubt it Molly. You’re far too young and attractive to remind him of his mother.

Molly turned slightly pink as she stammered, Well, thank you, I guess, but maybe it’s his memory of her when she was much younger, when he was a child.

Ben thought a moment and then said, I suppose that’s possible.

Molly shrugged, regained her composure and said, I guess we’ll never know. She smiled quizzically and then looked directly at Ben. He said in his note that he has some ideas he thinks we may find interesting. You have any idea what he thinks could be interesting?

Ben shook his head. No use speculating about it, Molly. I can think of some possibilities, but he’s far too complex and unpredictable for me to try and figure him out. He says you’ll hear from him and when we do, then we’ll know.

But aren’t you curious?

Ben grinned at Molly. Of course, and I’ll probably think about a bunch of possible scenarios, but that requires some private thinking time and I’m not ready to think out loud about it. Ben became very serious. He looked at Molly and said, Not a single, solitary word of this to anyone, not even Tom. You didn’t say anything to him before you came here, did you?

He asked me where I was going and I said to see you, but I wouldn’t tell him why.

He was okay with that?

He reminded me he was your Chief of Staff, but I told him that you’d tell him if you wanted him to know. He suspects that I have worked with you to prevent the terrorist attacks planned for the Rose Garden and that I got e-mails from some one about them, but he doesn’t know who; and he’s pretty sure I got the information that enabled you to prevent the massive terrorist attack but he doesn’t know who I got it from. He’s dying of curiosity and he’s even asked me about it. Molly shook her head sadly, I don’t know, he may even suspect it was Davenport, but I refuse to talk about it.

Good. I don’t want to cause difficulty between the two of you, and I may tell Tom some day, but I do want to think about it before I do.

Before Ben or Molly could say anything more, the phone rang again. This time it was Jane Cabot calling from her house in Brookline, Massachusetts. Ben said, Hold on a second, Jane, Molly is just leaving. Ben turned to Molly, put his hand over the speaker on the phone and said, Reply to Davenport. Just say you received his message and will look for his next one. That’s it. After Molly left, Ben and Jane resumed their conversation. Ben lost no time. What do you want to talk about first, your next trip here or getting married?

How about whether or not you’re going to resign the presidency? You always said you’d most likely do that when things quieted down.

Ben frowned. If I resigned right now, House Speaker, Elliot Thurston, would become President. That would be a disaster for this country, so I think I have to stay here, at least for a little while. I hope you’re not too disappointed.

Good, and I’m not disappointed at all. I was going to say that you shouldn’t resign. That’d be wrong for you and for the country. Wasn’t Thurston Senator Davies’ biggest ally?

Yes, he was. He can’t prove it, but Tom thinks he was part of that whole scheme Davies and Winters concocted to cause all that chaos we had to endure. Ben shook his head as he continued, All that murder and mayhem they were responsible for was supposed to force me to resign or be impeached. Thurston, as Speaker of the House would have then become President and we think Davies’ puppet.

Do you think Thurston was part of the Davies and Winters plan to kill my poor husband?

I don’t know, Jane, maybe.

Do you know who it was that shot him?

I don’t. Tom is pretty sure that it was Winters’ second in command, Walter Wagner, but there’s no evidence tying him to it.

Isn’t he the head of the F.B.I. now?

Acting Director. He wants the job and I refused to appoint him. I tried to fire him but he has a strong relationship with so many members of Congress that I can’t get it done.

If Tom thinks Wagner was the shooter then I think he was too, and if he thinks Thurston was involved in my husband’s murder then so do I. Jane paused a moment and then said, Ben, you just can’t let the worst inmates of that asylum that is the nation’s capitol take over. My poor husband was only a shell of the man I had married, and mentally like a three year old, and he probably didn’t have much longer to live anyway, but it was totally heartless to murder him just to cause you grief and advance their political aspirations. We can’t have that despicable worm in charge of the country. It would mean that Davies and Winters would have won. Neither of us, could live very comfortably if you abandoned ship and Thurston became President.

Okay, but what about us? Do you want to set a date for a White House wedding?

I don’t think so, Ben. It’s too soon after my husband’s death and there’s too much ill will in the atmosphere to make it into an enjoyable time for us, but I will come for a visit from time to time. Understanding Ben’s unhappiness at her decision, Jane added, In fact, I’ll come out for a few days beginning this week end, if that works for you.

I’d love the visit, but I really want you to stay with me permanently. If it’s a choice between this job and you… .

Before Ben could finish the sentence, Jane said, If it were any other job I’d love to hear what I think you were about to say, but you’re probably going to have to be President for the next three years. That’s more than a full time job and we both know that’s what you have to do. When you were Secretary of Education, you said that our education system, from our public schools all the way through our colleges and universities was a disaster.

It is. We are ‘dumbing down’ to the lowest common denominator in our public school systems. The fund raisers for our colleges and universities have won out and the faculty are being told to ‘spoon feed’ their students, not work them too hard and to make college a fun experience. The goal is to have an alumni body that donates lots of money to the school. The students leave with a really inferior education and no proper preparation for the real world. As bad as that is, I don’t think that’s the biggest problem we have right now.

Jane said, Ben, I’ve heard you complain about how corrupt and inefficient the government is and about how partisan politics are destroying the country. You’ve pointed out that our economy is in shambles and that we have no sensible energy policy. You’ve complained about our sending our young people to war to insure our access to Middle East Oil and about paying more and more of our wealth to people who want us dead and use the money we pay them to wage war against us. According to the surveys and polls I saw this morning, you’re beginning to have the people with you. This is your chance. Make the most of it and do something to fix those things.

It may be beyond fixing.

Maybe, but if you don’t at least try, you’ll never forgive yourself.

Ben sighed. You know how much I hate living in this fishbowl. It’s impossible to have a normal relationship with my children and grandchildren and every time you and I get together it creates reams and reams of speculation and gossip.

I know, but that can’t be undone. I know you well enough to know that you would not be able to forgive yourself if you didn’t at least try to solve our problems, and I know that I could not forgive myself if you didn’t try because of me. You’ve got to make the effort.

Ben thought a minute. Perhaps you’re right, but it would be a lot easier if you were here with me. A lot of the research you’re doing could be done here. You could easily work at one of our teaching hospitals here.

I’ll be there a lot, more often than I was the first year, but I wouldn’t be happy in the role of the First Mistress or the First Lady. It would be a distraction, and quite honestly, I would prefer continuing my research here in Boston. Jane paused a moment and then continued, You’ve got to stay there and do what needs to be done and that’s all there is to that. Honestly Ben, I don’t want to talk about getting married or living in the White House any more. It’s just not right for now.

Okay, okay. I don’t like it, but I won’t pressure you any further, and I know you’re right about the reality of our situation.

Good. Now, what are the things you want to fix in the government?

There are so many problems. It’s hard to know where to begin. For example, take partisan politics. I think its becoming a threat to the very survival of our democracy. Lobbyists are running the Congress and spending is totally out of control. Every bill is loaded with earmarks and special interest benefits. I don’t know where to begin, but I suppose the best way to begin is to start on something and then just keep going, not just sit and wonder about where you can start. Let me ask you, Jane, what do you think is our most serious problem?

Jane thought a moment. "Perhaps it’s as a woman,