Page 121
Story: The First Gentleman
Faulkner snorts. “ShehatesBerlin and you know it. Almost as much as she hates you for sending her there.”
“Look, Chief, Rachel’s a smart kid, but she rubs a lot of people the wrong way, one of those people being the president. A little time in the foreign service will smooth her edges.”
Faulkner looks skeptical but changes the subject. “Are all your ducks still lined up on the legislation?” he asks.
Pearce nods. “The minute the First Gentleman gets acquitted, we move. National address from the East Room. All data and projections released to the press.” He reaches over and places his hand on Faulkner’s. “We need you there, Chief.”
“Gladly,” says Faulkner. “This working-from-home shit is for the birds.”
“Those drugs they’ve got you on mess with your immune system. You know that. Right now a case of the sniffles could bring you down. We need you healthy.”
“No,” says Faulkner. “You just need me presentable.”
“Maddy appreciates your loyalty,” says Pearce. “Always has.”
“I think she appreciates having me out of the way, not making waves. And what if this Grand Bargain idea goes to shit? What if Wall Street crashes? What if the governors revolt? What if the electorate turns against us? We’re taking a big risk. There’s a reason why no other administration has gone this far.”
“It’s a moon shot for sure,” says Pearce. “But it might just save the whole system.”
Faulkner lets out a long sigh. “Okay, Burton. I know my place. When you’re ready, just let me know when and where. I’ll show up—like Lazarus back from the dead.”
Pearce smiles. “I like that image, Chief. Excellent optics.”
CHAPTER
110
Rockingham County Courthouse, New Hampshire
Your Honor, the State calls Lindsay Farrow.”
The courtroom doors open and a young woman walks in. She’s wearing a forest-green pantsuit, and she’s movie-star beautiful.
She’s sworn in, then sits down in the witness chair.
“Ms. Farrow, could you tell us your full name, title, and employer?”
“Lindsay Anne Farrow. Manager of digital services, northeast division, Walmart.”
“And can you describe the scope of your job, please?”
“Yes. I supervise the technical aspects of the stores in my region. Scanners, computers, routers, modems, surveillance systems.”
“Ms. Farrow, are you familiar with an initiative called Operation Harvest?”
“I am.”
“Can you describe it?”
“Yes, though it was before my time at the company. It was anexperimental program for the centralized storage of surveillance content that Walmart briefly implemented. During that time, security footage from all our locations was collected and logged on a server at headquarters in Bentonville, Arkansas.”
“Ms. Farrow, were you asked to retrieve surveillance footage from that period from a specific store on a specific date and time?”
“I was, yes. Detective Sergeant Marie Gagnon requested it.”
“Your Honor, State’s exhibit thirty-two.” Bastinelli clicks the controller. The screen lights up.
On the screen is a video. He freezes the image.
“Look, Chief, Rachel’s a smart kid, but she rubs a lot of people the wrong way, one of those people being the president. A little time in the foreign service will smooth her edges.”
Faulkner looks skeptical but changes the subject. “Are all your ducks still lined up on the legislation?” he asks.
Pearce nods. “The minute the First Gentleman gets acquitted, we move. National address from the East Room. All data and projections released to the press.” He reaches over and places his hand on Faulkner’s. “We need you there, Chief.”
“Gladly,” says Faulkner. “This working-from-home shit is for the birds.”
“Those drugs they’ve got you on mess with your immune system. You know that. Right now a case of the sniffles could bring you down. We need you healthy.”
“No,” says Faulkner. “You just need me presentable.”
“Maddy appreciates your loyalty,” says Pearce. “Always has.”
“I think she appreciates having me out of the way, not making waves. And what if this Grand Bargain idea goes to shit? What if Wall Street crashes? What if the governors revolt? What if the electorate turns against us? We’re taking a big risk. There’s a reason why no other administration has gone this far.”
“It’s a moon shot for sure,” says Pearce. “But it might just save the whole system.”
Faulkner lets out a long sigh. “Okay, Burton. I know my place. When you’re ready, just let me know when and where. I’ll show up—like Lazarus back from the dead.”
Pearce smiles. “I like that image, Chief. Excellent optics.”
CHAPTER
110
Rockingham County Courthouse, New Hampshire
Your Honor, the State calls Lindsay Farrow.”
The courtroom doors open and a young woman walks in. She’s wearing a forest-green pantsuit, and she’s movie-star beautiful.
She’s sworn in, then sits down in the witness chair.
“Ms. Farrow, could you tell us your full name, title, and employer?”
“Lindsay Anne Farrow. Manager of digital services, northeast division, Walmart.”
“And can you describe the scope of your job, please?”
“Yes. I supervise the technical aspects of the stores in my region. Scanners, computers, routers, modems, surveillance systems.”
“Ms. Farrow, are you familiar with an initiative called Operation Harvest?”
“I am.”
“Can you describe it?”
“Yes, though it was before my time at the company. It was anexperimental program for the centralized storage of surveillance content that Walmart briefly implemented. During that time, security footage from all our locations was collected and logged on a server at headquarters in Bentonville, Arkansas.”
“Ms. Farrow, were you asked to retrieve surveillance footage from that period from a specific store on a specific date and time?”
“I was, yes. Detective Sergeant Marie Gagnon requested it.”
“Your Honor, State’s exhibit thirty-two.” Bastinelli clicks the controller. The screen lights up.
On the screen is a video. He freezes the image.
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