As Jack filled in Joey, a tradition as old as law enforcement itself was once again celebrated. A cop tapping a favor for an old partner or boss, which in turn causes another favor to be called upon, and maybe three or four more until the task was done, or covered or even buried. Each step along the way, although not by the book, was definitely written into the margins. With each new pass-along, a new set of debt and obligations was created ensuring the continuance of an economy deeply rooted within every police organization in the world.
Janice came rushing into Bill’s office half an hour after he returned to the White House. She ran up to him and gave him a hug. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
“Yeah, it was close.”
“Were you next to the president?”
“No, I was ten feet behind him. We had been chatting but I fell back because he started talking to a General, and I wanted to give them some room. But one of the bullets hit about a foot in front of me.”
Janice closed her eyes as she rested her head on Bill’s shoulder.
A Secret Service agent appeared at the door. “Mr. Hiccock will you come with us, please?”
Hiccock gave her one last squeeze and followed the men down the hall. They entered the Secret Service office to find the Chief of Presidential Detail waiting, along with Naomi Spence.
“Mr. Hiccock, you excused yourself from the president’s side early during the demonstration today. Can you tell us what you did in that time?”
“Yes. I called Carly Simone, the reporter. She had asked me to give her a quote on the president.”
“And did you?” Naomi asked.
“Yes, Ms. Spence. I told her about the president’s funding bill. I thought it was an important issue and I knew he had already briefed Congress. I was only giving her a couple of hours lead.”
“If anybody gives out plums to the press, Hiccock, it’s me, so I can keep the books. Otherwise every reporter would work that deal with every member of this administration,” Naomi said barely containing her rage.
“Well, that’s a good point. I’ll remember that next time.”
“Did you tell her where you were calling from?” The head of the Detail asked.
You could see the neon sign flashing “Stupid” across Bill’s forehead as he realized that even though he didn’t tell her where he was, he did. “Oh God, don’t tell me she had my call traced?”
“I am afraid so. We don’t know how yet, but we’ll find out soon.”
“So who tried to kill the president?” Hiccock, still comatose from the revelation, asked the Agent.
“Right now we have nothing solid. The gunman wasn’t an officer. His badge was a phony, and he’s got no history we can find.”
“A foreign operative?”
The Agent made a decision that Hiccock was one of the good guys. Even though he proceeded by not really imparting facts, only conjecture. “Too early to tell but a guy with a clock this clean doesn’t just pop out of the cabbage patch. Somebody spent a lot of money on brooming his past. It might have been a plan hatched and executed solely by him, but that’s not likely, unless he found a ton of cash in a brown paper bag on his doorstep one day.”
“I don’t follow that,” Naomi said.
Hiccock jumped in thinking out loud before he caught himself, “He’d have left some kind of trail making the kind of money that disappearing from society requires. Sorry.” He yielded to the head Secret Service agent.
“That’s okay; you’re right. It’s just too early to tell.”
Naomi steered the discussion to her pressing matter. “I have a press briefing in five minutes. The scanners caught all the local police radio traffic, and all the networks are already live, speculating on the attempted assassination.”
“We’re in lockdown here, Naomi. Where’s the conference?” The head agent asked.
“At State. Everybody is shifting there now. I leave in two minutes. Anything I need to know or not know?”
“Keep it calm for now. We are investigating. We have no names or any reason to believe this wasn’t just a lone nut.”
“They know he was dressed as a cop. It leaked from the hospital,” Naomi informed the agent.
“Damn” was all the man who trained to work in secret could say as the veil was lifting on that which he wanted to hold confidential forever.
“Last question, then I have to go to the press conference. Two agents were hit. How are they doing?” Naomi queried, knowing it was a question she would be asked.
“We have two men down; both were wearing their vests and are expected to fully recover. Try not to mention the vests. Why tell the next guy where to shoot?”
“Thanks. Wish me luck,” Naomi said as she exited.
“Am I needed any longer?” Hiccock asked the head of the detail.
“We’ll talk later.”
As he left the office he could not get over the fact that he may have been an unwitting accomplice to the attempted assassination of the President of the United States.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
An absurdity was in progress at Foggy Bottom. Since the White House went into “lockdown” the minute the Secret Service heard the gunshots in Alexandria and ordered the crash, the press conference was hastily moved to the facilities at the State Department. This was no easy task for myriad reasons, not the least of which was that for every reporter the networks had covering the White House there were an equal number assigned to the State Department. The displaced White House beat reporters were invading their counterparts’ turf at State, consequently wrinkling a few egos, which had to be ironed out. Oddly enough, the woman creating the most disturbance was a blonde whose limited access White House pass was being questioned at the gates of the State Department’s entrance.
“You obviously don’t recognize me. I cover the White House for MSNBC,” she protested.
“That ain’t the problem lady. I was told green and white passes only. You got yellow there and nobody said nothing to me about no yellow pass,” the Wankenhut security guard explained. “Besides, there’s a crew from MSNBC inside already!”
“There is? Well, they’ll vouch for me.”
“They’re inside already and they ain’t going to come out again till they’re leaving.” The guard was beyond being courteous at this point.
“Do you have a supervisor?” Carly asked in a tone that really meant, Is there someone with a brain who I can speak to?
The guard keyed his radio, “Len, I got a reporter here wants to see you.” He placed his radio mic back in its belt clip and motioned with his hand to Carly. “He’s coming, ma’am. In the meantime, will you please step aside so I can help these other people?”
It took two minutes, but a guard with gold captain’s bars on his epaulets arrived at the guard’s station. “What’s the situation here?” the Captain asked, looking Carly up and down and hoping it was something to do with her.
“I’m Carly Simone from MSNBC and I need to get into that press conference right now!”
“You’re Carly Simone? Please wait right here.” He keyed his radio. “Base, this is Captain. Tell the detail I got Ms. Simone here at northwest entrance.
“Just a minute ma’am,” the older guard related.
Carly was relieved that she was finally getting the treatment consistent with a member of the 4th estate. A minute later, two men in suits appeared and asked to see Carly’s I.D. She showed them and one of them said, “Follow us, please.” As she left the area with her personal escorts, Carly shot a glance to the guard who had given her such a bad time and said, “See I told you that you were wrong!” She couldn’t figure out the strange smile she saw on the guard’s face. She would in just a moment.