Rudd nodded at Wiley again. Francesca Catanzaro pulled out a micro recorder and pressed play. It was his own voice he heard on the recorder. His name is Jake Pendleton. If he gets in the way, kill him too.
He was beaten and he knew it. There was no explanation for that comment. And no way to bullshit his way out of it. A moment of indiscretion had cost him his career. It could even cost him his freedom. He'd thought about it before, if he had to play the blackmail card, he would.
"Evan, what is this all about?" Rudd asked.
His mind went into the survival mode when out of the blue an idea came to him. "May I speak to Mr. Wiley alone for a few minutes. I have information that I can't share with you. I was trying to handle this on my own but I guess I'm in over my head."
"Evan, I'm the President of the United States for God's sake, there is nothing you can't tell me."
Rudd's change in pitch startled him. A vein on her forehead and another in her neck bulged. He noticed red splotches forming on her chest under her necklace. He'd never seen her lose control of her emotions in all the years he'd known her. He stared at Wiley, pleading with his eyes. "Five minutes. That's all I need. Anything I've ever done was in a manner to lend you plausible deniability. Let me tell Mr. Wiley first, let him decide."
Finally the old man spoke up. "Rebecca, with all due respect, you're upset. Let me hear what the man has to say. Maybe it has merit, although I find it difficult to believe."
Rudd was silent for an uncomfortable amount of time. Finally, she nodded. "Five minutes. Then I want to be briefed."
Wiley turned to Francesca. "Please accompany the President while I talk with Mr. Makley."
Rudd and Catanzaro left the two men alone in the Oval Office. Wiley looked at him, ran his fingers through his hair, and pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose.
"Before you begin," said Wiley. "There is nothing you can say that will justify ordering Abigail Love to kill one of my employees. Nothing. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." Makley was a star at diplomacy and he needed to shine now. "I'll retract the order with Love immediately, I promise."
Wiley pointed to his watch. "You've got four minutes now. This better be good."
With a minute to spare, Makley had given Wiley the abbreviated briefing.
"You understand I'm going to require verification." Wiley said.
"No problem. I'll give you full access." Makley made a head nod toward the door. "I can show you everything when we're finished here."
The Oval Office door opened and President Rebecca Rudd and Francesca Catanzaro walked in. Rudd gave Wiley an apprehensive look. "Well? What do you think?"
Wiley hesitated for a moment. The old man looked at him then back at Rudd. "If what Mr. Makley says is true, and I will verify it," Wiley pushed up his glasses again and swiped his hair, "then, in my opinion, this isn't something you should know about until all the facts have been checked out."
"Elmore. That is ridiculous. I am the President, for crying out loud."
"Rebecca, you've known me a long time. I would never mislead you or try to deceive you. You must trust me." The old man said. "If this is a hoax, then I'll tell you. If this is true, we'll deal with it at the appropriate time. In the meantime, your prior knowledge of it without verification of its authenticity could very well affect and potentially alter your decision-making. You have a very important summit meeting to attend and you don't need any distractions. It is my opinion that it is in the best interest of all parties involved and this nation that you, as the leader of this country, not have this information disclosed to you at this time."
Makley forced back a smile. He'd done it again. He'd talked his way out of immediate peril. He had won a temporary reprieve, or as a minimum, bought himself a little extra time. Time to regroup and devise a plan to keep him from becoming the inevitable fall guy. Something Rudd would eventually need.
"Francesca," Wiley said, "go with Mr. Makley. Get a full briefing and meet me back in Fairfax." The old man turned his attention to him. "And you…" He paused, an attempt to intimidate him no doubt. "Your number one priority is correcting that matter we discussed. Is that understood?"
With some planning, maybe he can turn this around. Maybe he can even make Elmore Wiley the fall guy. After all, he just gave the old man full disclosure.
Makley nodded and followed Francesca out of the Oval Office.
"Well, what do you think?" Rudd asked.
"I think Evan Makley tried to do a good thing in the beginning. Not necessarily the right thing, but perhaps, with honorable intentions. I think he genuinely believed he was trying to protect you, keep you out of trouble. He let greed take over and now is trying to capitalize on something that might or might not be true."
"What do you think I should do with him?" asked Rudd. "I can't leave him on as Chief of Staff. He's untrustworthy."
"Take him out of the circle, especially about the book." Wiley pulled out his phone. "I need to talk to Jake. Let him know what's going on."
"Not until you tell me what Evan said to you in private."
"Rebecca." Wiley walked over to the President and kissed her forehead. "I meant what I said. This one, you can't know anything about. Not right now anyway."
30
Francesca Catanzaro followed Evan Makley down the White House corridors to a corner office. The Chief of Staff's office was better furnished, in many ways than the President's. Her furnishings were traditional whereas Makley's were more modern with state of the art equipment. He had a large conference table where the staff gathered for meetings. Francesca figured he justified the extra expense since his position oversaw the actions of the White House staff, managed the President's schedule, and had the power to decide who was allowed to meet with the President.
On his mahogany desk next to a desktop American flag was a picture of two teenage girls, both blonde, both wearing dresses and smiling for the camera. She picked it up. "Your daughters?" She asked.
"Yeah," he paused, "back then I only got to see them one Saturday a month, one week during the summer, and rotated holidays every other year. Divorce sucks. Even with the President's hectic schedule, when I was married I saw them almost every night."
"How old are they?"
"This one was twelve when this picture was taken." He pointed to the smaller girl then moved his finger to the other. "And this one fourteen. She just got her driver's license."
"They're very pretty. I know you're proud."
"I am. And they were just getting interesting when…" His voice trailed off.
In a way, she felt sorry for the man. He seemed to show genuine remorse for losing custody in the divorce that she, along with the rest of the country, witnessed on the six o'clock news. But he had a darker side that made her despise him. He was betraying the President and the country. And worst of all, he had ordered her partner killed.
She and Jake had been partners for almost a year and were such a good union that somehow, instinctively, they knew what the other was thinking. One of the many things Wiley excelled at was pairing his emissaries. They were an effective team, probably the best Commonwealth Consultants and the Greenbrier Fellowship had ever had. She trusted Jake with her life and knew he reciprocated.
Elmore Wiley had recruited her as an emissary for the Greenbrier Fellowship nearly two years ago while she was an operative for Italy's External Intelligence and Security Agency. Apparently impressed by her reputation for successful missions, he tendered the job offer one week after their first encounter.
Her training was intensive — six months tradecraft followed by six months field training. Even though her first assignment was a failure, the old man's persistent efforts molded her into an emissary with exceptional talent and skill.