The president viewed the screen in front of her. Hail was waiting patiently for her to absorb all the information.
The president flashed a fake smile, and ignoring the technology flying above their heads, she asked, “What is so important, Mr. Hail, that you felt the need to put all this together?” She waved her hands up in the air and then folded her hands in front of her, setting them on the table.
“Didn’t your director of the FBI tell you I thought we should talk?”
“Yes, I believe Trevor Rodgers mentioned something about it.”
“Don’t you think we should talk, Joanna, considering everything that went down during this last mission?” Hail asked.
The president appeared perplexed and said, “I don’t think I’m the right person to speak to about the mission.”
“Oh,” Hail said, sounding dejected. “But, I thought you were the commander-in-chief.”
The president allowed Hail’s jab to resonate for a moment before responding, “I would like our conversations to be held in the company of the CIA, NSA, FBI and General Ford. I’m sure you understand that unannounced and undocumented meetings with you are not good for my career. After all, Mr. Hail, you are far off the range when it comes to your operations. I need a defined amount of space from you, and I need deniability. And that means you and I cannot have private conversations such as this.”
The president looked nervously around the Rose Garden.
“What are you looking for?” asked Hail. “I mean, it’s not like there are reporters hiding in the bushes.”
Joanna Weston didn’t even realize what she had been doing, and Hail bringing attention to her foolishness made her resent his presence even more.
“Well, Mr. Hail, if you are sitting on my table, it makes me wonder what other drones are hidden in the rose bushes. I’m sure you can understand my curiosity, right?”
“I thought we agreed, during our first meeting, that you would call me Marshall, and I would call you Joanna. Remember, you told me that ‘Madam President’ made you feel old?”
“Today I am feeling more agitated than old, Marshall.” She pronounced his name with a degree of condescension.
Hail tried to sound upbeat and said, “I’d like to start over, if we could.”
“I’d like you to get off my table and go fly away,” the president responded flatly.
“We have your pilot,” Hail told her.
The change in the direction of their back-and-forth exchange caught Weston off-guard. Giving it little thought, she responded, “What do you mean? Are you telling me that you are holding him captive?”
“No, of course not. But the lieutenant commander indicated he would like to stay with us.”
“With you?” the president repeated. “And where would that be, Marshall?”
Hail hesitated, trying to decide how much he wanted to share with the United States’ top official, which would be the same as sharing it will all the United States’ agencies.
The president let him off the hook by saying, “We already know that Kara Ramey is aboard your cargo ship, the Hail Nucleus. So, I’m assuming our lieutenant commander is on that ship as well.”
Hail decided there was no sense in hiding something that was already known, so he responded, “Yes, he’s on my ship. He has, however, indicated that he wants to stay aboard.”
“And why would that be?” the president asked.
“I think we all understand the lieutenant commander has nothing to go back to if he returns to duty. Well, maybe three hot meals and a cot in the brig, but that really is not living. I think you would agree.”
The president didn’t respond.
A flock of birds flew over the White House. The president watched the birds. She had observed the clear signal being transmitted from the falcon to the drone on the table had pixelated as the birds intermittently blocked the laser signal. The signal stabilized, and Marshall Hail spoke again.
“I’d like to know if it’s OK for Nolan to stay aboard with us?” Hail asked. “All he is to you and your general is a problem. But to me, he’s a solution. He has a lot
of avionic and tactical skills that neither I, nor my staff, has. I’ll be sure to slap him around a little if it would make your general happy.”
Joanna Weston smiled at Hail’s contempt for her military.
“I’m sure our general would appreciate that, but I don’t believe it’s necessary. I think the pilot living around you is punishment enough.”
The president smiled graciously at Hail on the screen in front of her.
Hail absorbed her zing with a smile.
“Well, with that piece of business out of the way, I would like to talk about our next target.”
“Our next target?” the president asked, pronouncing the word OUR with an exaggerated punch.
“Sure,” Hail responded. “All of the cockroaches on your terrorist list are OUR enemies. I mean, it was your agencies that put them on the list to begin with. I’m not sure why this comes as a shock to you. We agreed, when we first met, that I would assist in removing every one of these parasites from the list.”
The president shook her head and looked very serious.
“No, that is not what we agreed upon. We agreed that we would work together to remove these parasites from our list. That’s why you currently have Kara Ramey, a CIA operative, on your ship. And now you have one of our top pilots as well. Oh my, your list of my people ending up on your ship is larger than the number of terrorists you have removed from the list.”
Hail looked frustrated. Joanna Weston had the impression she was getting on his nerves. Well, now he could see what it felt like.
Marshall Hail deeply inhaled and slowly exhaled. After he had composed himself, he said, “Joanna, it really doesn’t matter how we get there. I just want to get moving. I need another name. I need another location. I need information so I can find another person who can be removed from your list before they can do more harm to innocent people. Do you think we can at least agree on that?”
The president took a sip of water from a clear glass. She then set it back down on the table. She purposefully waved her hand over the top of the drone sitting on the table. For a split-second, the laser’s connection was broken, and Hail disappeared. An instant later, he was back again.
“What are you doing?” Hail asked.
“I was just seeing if I waved my hand over your drone, if you would disappear. And you did.”
The president repeated the motion.
“Stop doing that,” Hail told her.
“I’m the president of the United States, Marshall. I can do any damn thing I please.” And, to prove her point, she waved her hand over the top of the drone again and watched the screen go black for a beat.
Joanna Weston laughed. When Hail reappeared, he looked mad.
“Oh, that is so much fun. Now I see you; now I don’t.” She played with the laser a little bit more, this time allowing her hand to block the signal for a few seconds before removing it and allowing the drones to reconnect.
“OK, OK, stop, stop,” Hail pleaded.