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He nods, seemingly without a concern in the world. “Carlton. Always pushing the envelope, always taking my orders too literally. If you’re expecting Carlton to turn on me, forget it. He’s utterly loyal. You can waterboard him for a month or cut off his fingers, and he won’t say a word, Ms. Abrams.”
Hannah ignores the insult, him not using her title. “However that might be, a congressional investigation will reveal the truth behind the matter, and I have no doubt—despite your current popularity—you will be impeached and convicted.”
“So says you. And your witnesses I suppose … let’s see, Noa Himel and Liam Grey would be key. Last I heard, Noa was hiding out at your house, and a squad of FBI agents and federal marshals are about to break in to take her into custody. And Liam is somewhere out of touch in South Africa, for whatever that means. Ms.Abrams, if that’s all you’ve got, then it’s thinner than tissue. Now. You’re to leave my office before I have the Secret Service come in and haul you out.”
Hannah says, “Liam Grey is in South Africa, trying to rescue your son, Benjamin Lucas.”
Barrett’s face is impassive.
She says, “That goes against your impressive history and narrative, doesn’t it, Keegan? How will your popularity survive among a certain section of the electorate, when they learn that you had a son out of wedlock, and that you didn’t pay a dime of child support for him over the years?”
His eyes narrow, darken. “Inquisitive little bitch, aren’t you? I’ll tell you what will happen. Americans are a forgiving people. All I need is to give a maudlin speech about my past personal failings, the guilt I’ve carried all these years, a promise to do right, and, you know what, my popularity ratings will increase.”
Hannah thinks,Okay, time to go nuclear, strike deep behind that narcissism and raging self-confidence.
“You mentioned past personal failings?” she asks. “How about your current personal failings, Keegan?”
“Me?” he answers. “You know what I’m called in the press and among the party. The warrior monk, only worried about his country and his people.”
Hannah says, “Does being a warrior monk include threatening to sexually assault and murder a subordinate?”
CHAPTER 137
PRESIDENT KEEGAN BARRETT is aware of the time slipping away before the noon hour strikes—about fifty minutes away—but this damn coiled rattlesnake in front of him, who has the nerve to call him by his first name, is hissing and preparing to strike. He needs to kill it. He thinks back to his recent visit to Minnesota, how the thousands upon thousands of American citizens there showed their love and trust in him.
He will not let this professional creature, this inhabitant of the DC swamp, make him betray that trust and love.
“What the holy hell are you claiming, Ms. Abrams?”
“That on a certain date and time, in your private office in the family quarters in the White House, that you did threaten to assault and murder Noa Himel, an officer of the Central Intelligence Agency, your subordinate.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I have proof,” the woman says.
“What? Her notarized statement or something equally worthless?”
“No,” she says. “This.”
From her leather bag she takes out a small device that she places on the center of theResolutedesk. She presses a switch, a green light comes on, and two voices emerge, his and Noa Himel’s.
“To make it even more clear, so even a woman like you can understand, I own your ass. You belong to me. All of you. You will continue to operate in the United States, and screw the laws, and screw Congress.”
A pause in the recording.
“That’s funny. You know why? Because you do have a cute ass, and I could take you now, toss you over my desk, and screw you six ways to Sunday, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Because I’ve got evidence that you’re a stone-cold killer, Noa Himel, safely kept in my hands.”
He hears his laugh.
“But that’s beneath me, as you said. So think of this. You leave the White House and if I feel like doing it, within the hour, I’ll come for you. You will no longer exist, your records will be wiped, you will become an un-person.”
“Are … you threatening to kill me?”comes Noa’s shaken voice.
“Worse. I’m threatening to make you disappear. Like you never existed.
You think I can’t do that?”
A faint hiss from the little recorder’s speaker.