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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] work. All along, he d been trying to solve the wrong puzzle. For weeks now he had tormented himself over how to penetrate the fourth perimeter in the middle of the night, how to commandeer the Service s communications, break into the president s bedroom, kill him, and escape unscathed in the confusion. Now the answer was so clear to him that he felt foolish. He should have known all along. Kurt Ford didn t have to go to the president. Bearing the appropriate gift, he could bring the president to him. CHAPTER 22 During the first week of his presidency, Calvin Parkes had only to mention the idea that it would be a fine thing to have a putting green on the patch of grass in the trees behind the Oval Office. In early March the White House staff exultantly led him around the corner and back into that very cluster of trees to present to him a beautiful seamless green. That moment the moment he realized that even his wishes were commands had filled the president with great pride. So, like Huck Finn sneaking off to his favorite fishing hole, the president would slip out back to chip and putt whenever the slightest opportunity presented itself. And it was quite typical for him, when his secretary, Margie, finally told him his schedule was clean, to whip off his coat and head straight across to the green with plenty of time before his wife expected him in the mansion for dinner at seven. This was also the only time that those who knew him well could be certain he would be relaxed, in a relatively good mood, and at the same time willing to talk extemporaneously. When Butch Reynolds, the chairman of the Republican National Committee, entered the trees along the trim gravel path with Marty Mulligan, he was delighted to see the president sink a chip from fifty feet away. Parkes howled and pumped his fist into the air amid the polite clapping of two young staffers and Mack Taylor as well as the Secret Service agents who were Page 72 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html dispersed throughout the circumference of trees. The president s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his red face was flushed nearly purple from the heat of the late afternoon sun that filtered through the canopy of trees. Ah! he cried on seeing Mulligan and Reynolds. Marty! Did you see that! Butch, what are you doing? I don t need a mulligan after a shot like that! The president s light blue eyes twinkled mirthfully at his own wit and his large frame shook with delight. His wrinkled white shirt bore liberal sweat stains under his arms and his upper lip was beaded as well. He chortled. Reynolds broke out in his own toothy grin. He too was sweating like only a fat man can in the summer heat of the South. The lenses of his silver-framed glasses were fogged over from the humidity, but he shook the president s hand with enthusiasm. Even the SAIC had allowed himself a crooked smile at the president s jest. Only Mulligan s face remained impassive. He sniffed noncommittally at the rich smell of cut grass that wafted up from the carefully manicured turf and took the president s hand in his own iron grip. Cal, he said, acknowledging the president s grin by inclining his head. The president turned excitedly and began chipping away at the cluster of balls at his feet, talking as he played. What brings you two out? he asked. Oh! Did you see that! I almost did it again! You play a pretty game, Mr. President, Reynolds said in his heavy southern drawl as his eyes followed the ball s loop around the edge of the cup. He was from an old family in the great state of North Carolina, and to prove it he strode around Washington in seersucker suits. We found some of that ten million dollars we talked about a few weeks ago, Mulligan said bluntly. This brought the president to a standstill. He stood up straight and rested the head of his club on top of his shoe, eyeing the two men warily. You got the money, Butch? I m going to get it, Mr. President. Reynolds beamed. All you have to do is fish for it. The president puckered his mouth and sourly said, So I m the one who has to get it. You have the idea, but I m the one that has to pull the bull out of the barn. Well, that s great. That s just what I need. No, Reynolds said pleasantly, waving off the idea. I meant what I said in the literal sense. All you have to do is go fishing, on a fishing trip not even a trip, just for an afternoon and we ve got ourselves a five-million-dollar contribution! Five million? the president said softly and whistled. His eyes narrowed. Not the Chinese . . . No, Mulligan said with a sneer. His name is Kurt Ford. He s the founder of a company called Safe Tech. He s about as American as you can get. He s worth about a billion dollars. And, the president said in disgust, he wants to talk to me about the Internet initiative, wants to give me five million to talk me out of it. He did say he wants to jaw at you about it some, Reynolds broke in, but I made it right clear, Mr. President, there ll be no quid pro quo, none a tall. He understood. Told me he didn t expect to change your mind, but that he supported your other ideas and would like to have the chance to at least give you some ideas on the limitations you might want to think about before signing the bill. The president eyed the chairman skeptically. How about a game of golf? Why can t I play golf with this guy? Why do I have to ruin an afternoon when I m supposedly on vacation? Reynolds shrugged. I don t know. He was pretty ornery on that point though, I can tell you that for sure. I mentioned a game of golf, but he said he thought it would be a shame for you to be right there where they have some of the finest fishing in the United States and not get out on a boat. Besides, he apparently doesn t golf. You ll be there anyway, Cal, Mulligan said in a surly tone. He lives right there in Skaneateles, for Christ s sake. You re the one who wants us to figure Page 73 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html ways to help raise the money we need and now we ve got it. If the guy wanted to sit around and do needlepoint, it would be worth it. Just think about how many speeches you d have to make and dinners you d have to eat to take in five million dollars. This will be the biggest single contribution in the history of politics and all you have to do is reel in some damn halibut or something. Halibut is an ocean fish, Reynolds said confusedly as he took a handkerchief out of his breast pocket to wipe the fat on his neck. You know what I mean, Mulligan growled. Fish to me comes inside breadsticks you take out of the freezer. Anyway, it ll be good for the upstate vote. Those people are nuts about fishing. You should see the money the state spends raising fish just so they can let them go and people can catch them again. It s fucking ridiculous. Someone told me they do the same thing with pheasants, for Christ s sake. But I wouldn t mind seeing a nice shot of you reeling in a goddamn fish on the front page of the New York Times . . . And fishing is okay with the greens too, he continued in a low mutter. They don t mind fishing. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |