Game Over (7 page)

“W
e look like a bunch of bedraggled cats caught in a rainstorm,” Annie said sourly as she poured from the third pot of coffee. “Charles has been gone for three days, and we haven't heard a thing. It's the weekend, the sun is shining, and the snow is melting. I think we all need to put on our happy faces and
do something.
If none of you can come up with something constructive, then we need to adjourn to
the pole.
”

That statement grabbed everyone's attention. The Sisters all started jabbering at once.

“Just because we've heard nothing of importance doesn't mean we can't make plans. We're coming up to the second week in January, and Lizzie has been on the job as chief White House counsel for a whole week now. But we all know her thoughts are elsewhere at the moment, which means we need to work on our own strategy as far as our pardons are concerned,” Myra said briskly. “Let's bundle up and go over to the command center and see what we can come up with.”

Jackets and boots on, the Sisters were at the door when they heard the sound of the cable car sliding into its nest. The dogs in the lead, they all ran outside to greet Charles.

“I'm hungry,” Charles said by way of greeting as he hugged his wife.

They all trooped back to the dining hall, where Annie set out fruit, muffins, and sausages and made fresh coffee. The rule was, they never talked business until a meal was finished. With one meaningful look from Myra, Charles wolfed down his food in record time.

“Where did you go, and what if anything did you accomplish?” Nikki asked.

“I went to Pennsylvania, ladies. To a little-known place that was once known as Lord's Valley but is currently called Jellicoe Valley. The man who resides there is named Henry Jellicoe, Hank to his friends. Hank used to handle the security for Myra's candy company, until I took over. It was all a long time ago, but Hank and I remained friends. Hank is now Global Securities. What that means is, he provides top-notch security for American-based companies all over the world. He represents a few foreign enterprises also. He has a five-star reputation.

“I went to see him because of Lizzie, to see what could be done to guarantee her seat on the Supreme Court if she's nominated. If Lizzie wants the position, I think I can almost, and I say almost, guarantee the appointment is hers. But bear in mind there are no guarantees in this life that she will be voted in. What we have going in our favor is that word has not yet leaked out, so that gives Hank and us, and by us, I mean you ladies and Maggie, along with the
Post,
time to help things along when needed.

“I was at the foot of the mountain when I got a call from Hank. It seems he has a source in the White House, an aide to the president, who passed along something none of us want to hear. It seems the president has been working on your pardons, and the files have been on her desk in the Oval Office for some time. The source says he checks them from time to time. Yesterday afternoon the president had a meeting with her top advisors, and it did not go well as far as the pardons are concerned. Every single advisor in the room, as well as the national security advisor, voted no. The files are no longer on the president's desk but are now in a drawer.” Charles winced at the collective intake of breath around the table. He waited to see if there would be a verbal outburst, but there was none forthcoming.

He went on. “It is Hank's and my opinion that the president was doing her best where the pardons are concerned. Now, however, we surmise that she thinks that the Lizzie appointment will appease all of you, and you won't do anything to ruin it. It's like putting the egg before the chicken, because had the president not heard from Justice Leonard first, what would she have done about the pardons? She could, of course, stomp her foot on everyone's neck and just issue them and take the blowback. Or she's going to listen to all those advisors and let you all hang out to dry, thinking Lizzie is more important. A stall for time is how Hank and I are looking at it at this moment in time.”

Annie stood up, her expression fierce. “Charles, that scenario simply does not work for me. I have plans for my life, and that includes the pardon President Connor promised, and I have no intention of having those plans thwarted. Are we clear on the matter?” Ice dripped from her words.

Charles allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. “I'm very clear on the matter, Annie. It's the president who isn't on our wavelength.”

“Then I suggest we do something about it,” Myra snapped. “And the sooner the better.”

“Hear! Hear!” the Sisters shouted in unison.

“Before you arrived, Charles, we were on our way to the command center to work out a plan to do just that,” Annie said. “We are more than willing to work Lizzie into our plan so that whatever we come up with works for her as well as for us.” She walked over to the door and pulled on her boots and her down jacket. “Time is money, girls!”

The Sisters hustled, Charles bringing up the rear.

Ten minutes later the Sisters were settled but grumbling, Kathryn's voice the loudest. “I feel like chewing nails and spitting rust. The president damn well promised us a pardon. She's reneging and allowing her advisors to call the shots when she has all the power. If we were a priority, our pardons wouldn't be sitting in her desk drawer, now would they?” Kathryn took a deep breath and rushed on. “Next week the pardons will be moved out of the desk drawer to a file cabinet, and the week after that, the file cabinet will be moved to the basement, never to see the light of day again. This is
unacceptable!
”

Murphy and Grady growled at the same time, their hackles rising at the fury in Kathryn's voice. Kathryn reached down to stroke the big shepherd's head. He calmed almost immediately.

Grady sidled over to Alexis, who said, “Kathryn is right. It is unacceptable, and it sucks. If there is one thing I hate, it's a liar. The president lied to us. After all we did for her. I, for one, appreciate what she's trying to do for Lizzie, but that does not let her off the hook with the pardons. It's apples and oranges.”

“So then, what we're saying here is, we want to take on the White House and the president as well, is that it?” Nikki asked. She sounded calm, as though she were discussing plans for an afternoon stroll in the park.

“Then I suggest we sit down and set up a working plan, with the full knowledge that if things don't pan out, we'll be spending the rest of our lives in a federal prison,” Isabelle said. Her tone and voice sounded like she was following through on Nikki's plans for that afternoon stroll.

Yoko was more succinct. “Then let's do it!”

Charles swiped his hand across his stubbly chin. He should have shaved, he thought, but everyone was so anxious to get down to business, he didn't have the heart to delay his explanations. “Let me make sure I understand what all of you are thinking. You plan to invade the White House and what? Just walk out with your pardons? Is that what you're saying?”

“That's exactly what we're saying. If we write it down on paper, will reading it in black and white make a difference to you?” Annie demanded.

Charles smiled, recognizing the challenge Annie had just presented. “Then I say we sit down and get to work. But first, a favor, if you don't mind. I'd like to take a shower and shave first. I will need thirty minutes. When I return, I will have coffee for all of us. In the meantime, feel free to, uh…bat some ideas around until I get back.”

The room was totally silent until Murphy and Grady barked, the signal that Charles was out of the building.

“Are we out of our minds?” Myra asked.

“Even if we are, who will notice?” Annie said. “Why are you all looking at me like that? You think we can't invade the White House and walk out with our new lives? I am suddenly embarrassed to admit I know all of you.”

“Annie, waltzing into the White House is not like tripping into Wal-Mart,” Alexis squeaked. “I'm all for it if we can come up with a foolproof plan for our getaway.”

“Darling girl, we won't need a getaway if we have the pardons in hand,” Myra said sweetly.

The others stared at their fearless leader, their eyes wide, their jaws slack and agape.

“What about Lizzie?” Nikki asked.

“I think Lizzie's future is in good hands, and I really don't see what we could do to help her, anyway. Considering our current situation, that is. In the end, trying to help her might do her more harm than good if it ever comes out that we were involved,” Kathryn said.

“By the same token, we cannot do anything that will interfere with the process to confirm Lizzie once it goes public,” Yoko said. “We agreed that Lizzie comes first.”

“Yes, dear, we did agree to that, and there is no reason why we can't multitask, is there? I'm sure we're more than capable of creating diversions if need be. We're women. Remember that,” Myra said.

“All we need is that foolproof plan,” Annie said.

“That's not as easy as it sounds, dear,” Myra observed.

“This is what we have going for us at the moment. Us, now, not Lizzie. We have Maggie and the
Post
. In itself, the
Post
is a very powerful weapon. We have Jack, Harry, Bert, Ted, and Espinosa. We also have a few others that we've more or less deputized. Nellie, Elias, Pearl, Rena Gold, and Paula Woodley, Cosmo possibly, and Fish. I don't know how any of them can be incorporated into whatever plans we come up with, but there you have it. And ourselves and Charles, of course,” Nikki said. Nikki stood back to view all she had written on the huge chalkboard.

“Diversions, dear,” Myra said.

“Secret Service,” Yoko said. “It should be noted that Harry has contacts all over the world who are as versed in martial arts as he is. I am speaking only of the top tier. They would love nothing more than for Harry to request their help. The Secret Service is no match for Harry and his colleagues.” She smiled.

“How sure are you on that?” Kathryn asked skeptically.

“I am one hundred percent certain that Harry and his colleagues can render the agents helpless at the White House. All of them. What I cannot guarantee is how they can get inside. That's our job. If we can get them in, then it's all over.” Yoko smiled again.

Kathryn thought it an evil smile. Then she laughed. “That's good enough for me. We'll need time to get Harry's people here.”

“All it takes is one phone call or one e-mail. Harry's friends will be on the first available flight,” Yoko said.

Nikki added Yoko's information to the list just as Charles entered the room and took his place behind the bank of computers. He looked over at the chalkboard, processed what was written. He nodded. “You forgot Avery Snowden and our people. And don't forget Maggie's computer guru.”

Nikki scribbled furiously. “Anyone else we can count on?” When there was no comment, she dusted the chalk from her hands and took her seat.

Charles walked over to the chalkboard and said, “This is what we have to work with. At the moment. Hank Jellicoe has promised us help if we need it.” He wrote the name Hank at the bottom of Nikki's list. “Hank can give us the agents' positions, the shift changes, the command center, how to dismantle it, or at the very least render it inoperable, in whatever time is allowed. He and his people excel at high-tech malfunctions. He is also a familiar face at the White House and has served three presidents, including Martine. He will not arouse any suspicion with his frequent trips in and out of the White House.”

“Now all we need is a legitimate reason to appear at the White House. Is there such a thing as a public schedule?” Annie asked. “Festivities? Movie stars appear from time to time and require security. Baseball figures. Connor is a Pittsburgh Pirates fan. Maybe something along the lines of an invitation before the season starts.”

“Maybe Lizzie can put a bee in Connor's bonnet if she can make it sound like good PR. But I'm thinking anything she comes up with will be suspect now since the pardons are in the desk drawer rather than on the desk. I know Lizzie and the president are friends, but when it comes to survival, in this case, the administration's, you look out for number one. I don't trust her. The president, not Lizzie. Lizzie I would trust with my life,” Kathryn said.

“What goes on in the spring at the White House? We should start there,” Alexis said.

“Cherry Blossom Festival. Several Japanese contingents arrive annually, since the Japanese are the ones who donated the trees along the Tidal Basin,” Myra said.

“Valentine's Day.”

“Saint Patrick's Day.”

“April fifteenth, tax day.”

“May first, or May Day, with a maypole. Memorial Day.”

“That's too long to wait and plan for. We want this over and done with as soon as possible. The big question is, do we move before or after they announce Lizzie's nomination?” Annie queried.

A ripe discussion followed, but no concrete decision was forthcoming.

“Let's just get our ducks all in a row, decide what we want to happen at the White House, then make it happen. With the
Post
in our corner, Maggie has the power to put pressure on the White House to create an event,” Myra said.

“I have an idea. Let's call all our people and host a get-together for next weekend. We can't assume everyone will be on board. We need to confirm it all,” Kathryn said.

The Sisters gave a rousing cheer of approval of Kathryn's suggestion.

“Take care of it, ladies,” Charles said.

T
he streets of Georgetown were dimly lit from the sodium-vapor lampposts. No one was walking a dog; no lone pedestrians were meandering about. There were no cars to speak of on the roads. Nothing unusual, since it was 3:10 in the morning.

Harry Wong was wide awake in the backseat of the taxi that was taking him to Jack Emery's house in Georgetown. As he stared out the window, he did see dim yellow lights shining indoors at some of the houses. There were many porch lights, probably on timers, that winked and went totally dark at some preset hour. Jack's house was one of those. As the taxi pulled to the curb, Jack's front light flickered and went out. Harry leaned forward, paid the driver, and got out of the taxi. He leaped over a pile of snow on the curb and landed on the sidewalk, which was free of snow.

Always alert, even in the wee hours of the morning, Harry looked around to see if he could pick up on some infinitesimal sound. The night was quiet. Even the sound of the taxi's engine had faded as the driver turned the corner, his red taillights glowing in the dark night. Satisfied that nothing, not even a stray dog or cat, was going to interfere with his late-night visit, Harry made his way up the front steps and rang the doorbell. He waited, knowing that Jack was a sound sleeper. He rang it a second time, waited a few seconds, then lifted his foot and kicked in the door. He shrugged when a high-pitched shriek of sound permeated the air. He could see Jack outlined in the dim foyer light, his hair on end, gun in hand.

“Move and you're dead!” Jack shouted, loud enough to wake the dead.

“Stop being so damn dramatic and turn that stupid alarm off. The neighbors are all awake now. If the cops show up here, you're the one who is dead,” Harry shouted, to be heard over the screeching alarm.

“What the hell! You kicked my door in! Do you know what time it is, Harry?”

“Of course I know what time it is! If you had answered your door, I wouldn't have had to kick it in.”

When Jack made no move to turn off the alarm, Harry walked over to it, clenched his fist, and smashed the security panel. The sudden silence was deafening.

“Did someone die? What? You better start talking, you son of a bitch, or I really am going to shoot you. Don't go thinking you can catch the bullet in midair, either.”

“You want to bring it to a test? Ha! I didn't think so. Get dressed. We're going over to Maggie's house.”

Jack still looked dazed as he ran his hand through his spiked-up hair. “I can't go anywhere until the alarm company calls. Otherwise, they send the cops to investigate. I could have you locked up for what you did, you…you ninja terrorist!”

The phone rang.

Harry listened as Jack said, “No, I set it off. I got in late and forgot I had the alarm on. Yes, of course. My mother's maiden name was Terrance. Thank you. Yes, I will be more careful in the future. Thank you again.”

“Your pajamas have yellow ducks on them,” Harry said, guffawing.

“You have a problem with yellow ducks, Harry? My aunt gave me these pajamas. They're high-grade flannel and very comfortable, not to mention warm. What kind of nephew would I be if I didn't wear them? What the hell are you doing here, Harry?”

“Put your jacket and boots on. We're going to Maggie's house. I figured it all out. I'm not going through this twice, so get a move on.”

“You want me to go to Maggie's dressed like this?”

“I hope you don't expect me to carry you. Move it, Jack!”

Jack picked up the cushion on the sofa and wedged his gun down into the back. He yanked at his ski jacket, hanging on the clothes tree by the front door, as he slid his bare feet into a pair of rubber boots sitting in the boot tray. “This damn well better be good, Harry. I'm holding you responsible if anyone breaks into my house while we're at Maggie's.”

“Don't you
ever
shut up?” Harry grumbled as he stomped his way from the house.

“Look! You woke up the whole damn neighborhood,” Jack said as he waved his arms wildly about. “These good people are all worried about a home invasion, and it's all your fault. Even Maggie has lights on.”

The front door opened before either Jack or Harry could ring the doorbell. “You kick in my door, and your ass is grass, gentlemen,” Maggie remarked.

Stunned, Harry looked at the fiery little redhead, who was glaring at him. “How'd you know I kicked in Jack's door?”

“I'm a reporter, that's how. I had woken up to go to the bathroom, and I always look out the window when I'm peeing. Tough if that's more than you need to know. I was going to call the police, until I recognized you. What are you doing here? Did someone die? Oh, I like your jammies, Jack.”

“A gift from my aunt. That's what I asked, and he didn't answer me,” Jack said smugly. “He said he wasn't going to repeat his story twice. Are you making breakfast?”

“Why didn't you just kill him?” Maggie said to Jack as she shuffled to the kitchen. “You want breakfast, go to Denny's. Coffee is all I'm offering. If whatever you came here for isn't good, I'm going to plaster your faces all over the front pages of the
Post
and label you both terrorists. So, talk. I can listen while I'm making coffee.”

Harry Wong was a stubborn man. He sat down and waited until Maggie settled herself next to Jack.

“Yoko called me a little while ago. I was meditating. What that means to you both is I was on a higher plane and receptive to all manner of universal messages, aside from what Yoko was calling me about. She told me about Charles's visit to one Henry, also known as Hank, Jellicoe, who lives at the foot of the Allegheny Mountains in Pennsylvania. He owns and heads up Global Securities. The man has had the ear of several presidents, including the current one. It appears he has the run of the White House, and he confirmed to Charles that he and the president have a
thing
going on. Meaning an
intimate thing.
”

“You woke me up and kicked in my door to tell me
that?
” Jack snarled.

Maggie looked appalled. “You should have killed him. That front page is almost a definite now, Harry.”

Harry leaned back in his chair and glared at his two friends. “Am I the only one with a brain here? Why aren't you getting it?”

“Getting what?” Jack bellowed.

“It's all a game! There is no Supreme Court appointment in the offing! It's all a setup!”

Maggie and Jack could only stare at Harry. Maggie found her tongue first. “And you're basing this on the fact that Charles went to see the head of Global Securities and he's maybe, sort of, kind of, sleeping with the president. Is that what you're saying?” A vision of the booty she'd promised Abner Tookus danced behind her eyelids.

Harry shook his head. “No. It was what happened when Charles returned to the mountain. Actually, Yoko said he was at the base of the mountain when he got a call from Jellicoe, who has a source, a stool pigeon if you will, inside the White House. The source is an aide to the president. The source said that since Christmas the presidential pardons for the girls have been on the president's desk. As of yesterday, they've been relegated to a desk drawer. That's one step away from being put into a file cabinet, which will then be moved to the bowels of the White House, never to see the light of day again. In other words, the president is reneging on her promise to grant the pardons.

“It seems on January second, the president had a meeting with her closest advisors, and it got extremely heated, with threatened resignations if she went through with the pardons. The advisors called granting the pardons political suicide. Did I mention that the pardons are signed? They are. Desperate to cover up, the president came up with the Supreme Court bit to tide her over until she can find a way out of her own mess. There is no appointment, Jack! Do you hear me, Maggie? It's all a setup!”

“My God! You not only said whole sentences, but you said paragraphs…you…you silver-tongued orator, you!” Jack quipped.

Maggie looked like she was in a daze as she poured coffee, got cream out of the refrigerator, and fumbled around in the cabinet for the sugar bowl. “It makes sense if you stop to think about it. But, how cruel to do that to Lizzie. They're supposed to be friends. We damn well put her in the White House. This is definitely pissing me off, guys.”

“See, you still aren't getting it,” said Harry. “Lizzie is not supposed to know anything about this. At least for the moment. At the appropriate time it will be leaked. The president has to appease Lizzie because she knows Lizzie is tied to the vigilantes. Connor either doesn't understand or refuses to understand Lizzie's loyalties to the girls.”

“So what do we do now?” Jack asked as he gulped at his coffee.

“How the hell am I supposed to know, Jack? I just delivered the news. You're the one who always comes up with ideas and plans that don't work,” Harry said as he, too, sipped at the strong coffee. He was going to ask for tea, but one look at Maggie's face had told him not to bother.

“Who's going to tell Lizzie it was all a…a game?” Maggie asked.

“Don't look at me,” Harry said.

“Don't look at me, either. You're the one who couldn't wait to run to her house to tell her in the first place. Guess you're it, Maggie,” Jack said.

“I'm not telling Lizzie anything. At least not right now. First, I'm going to have Ted and Espinosa do a little fishing. Does either of you happen to know where Justice Leonard hangs his hat when he isn't in Washington? And we're going to want to know about his wife Florence's medical condition. Once we have that information, we can go after him to find out what he was promised to take part in this little charade.”

“Harry, did you tell Yoko you…uh…figured it out? Maggie, I have no clue about Justice Leonard. He could live in a tent, for all I know,” Jack said.

“No. Because I didn't figure it out until after we hung up, and I was back to meditating,” Harry replied.

“Damn good thing,” said Jack. “What that means is you can stay in the boys' club. Shit! Do we call Cosmo or just hug this stuff to our breasts? What are we supposed to do with this information?”

The trio looked at one another, their faces glum.

Finally, Maggie said, “I don't know.”

Harry shrugged.

“Harry, your best guess here. How long before Yoko puts it together and tells the girls?”

Harry shrugged again.

“The girls are not going to like this one little bit. Whose side is Jellicoe on. Do we know?”

“Yoko said Lizzie's side, which means our side. But he was conned, too, is what I'm thinking,” Harry said. “We have to keep Cosmo Cricket in the loop. I think Maggie should be the one to call him. Makes it more professional.”

“You dumb shit! Maggie is not supposed to know, just the way Lizzie is not supposed to know. Cosmo doesn't know we all ratted him out. Maybe we could sic Ted and Espinosa on him,” Jack said.

“Hold on here! I'm not calling Cosmo Cricket, and I have plans for Ted and Espinosa as soon as it gets light out,” Maggie said.

“Where does that leave us, then?” Jack growled.

“Sitting in Maggie's kitchen, sucking our thumbs, that's where,” Harry said. “This is not good, Jack.”

“No, Harry, it definitely is not good. The girls are going to go nuclear when they put it together. I just don't know if they'll be more pissed that Lizzie isn't going to the Supreme Court or that they aren't getting their pardons.”

“Both,” Maggie snarled. She wanted to cry when she thought about Abner Tookus and all she'd had him do. Now she was going to have to explain the large expenditure to Annie. Her insides jumping all over the place, she reached behind her for her cell phone, which was charging. She punched in Abner's number and waited.

“I want a freebie, and I want it right now,” she demanded. “If you don't give it to me, I have this guy sitting here in my kitchen who will kick your ass all the way to the moon, and he won't be there to catch you when you land. Do not say one word. Just listen and get back to me in thirty minutes. Yes, I said thirty minutes. I want to know where Supreme Court Justice Leonard lives when he is not in Washington. I want his and his wife's medical records, and I also want their financial statements, plus their address here in Washington, or wherever they live during the nine months of the Supreme Court term. Thirty minutes, or you're on the way to the moon.

“Gentlemen, I am hungry. In fact, I am starving. And since there is no way I am going out to breakfast, I am going to cook. How do eggs, bacon, and pancakes sound? I'll even brew you a pot of tea, Harry. Jack, you make another pot of coffee and nuke the bacon. Make the whole pound. Harry, you're in charge of the toast, and, yes, I like toast even when I have pancakes. I also have a melon in the fridge, which you can cut up.”

“Go for it!” Jack said happily. “That person you just called, he can get all that in thirty minutes?” His voice was so skeptical, Maggie actually laughed when she really felt like crying.

“He probably already has it and will wait a full twenty-nine minutes before he calls, but, yeah, he's that good. His fees are astronomical, but he always comes through. Plus, he is in love with me but won't admit it.”

Neither Jack nor Harry knew what to say about that, so they just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“What? You don't believe me? You don't think anyone but Ted Robinson could love me? Well, he does. Love me, I mean.” And then she burst into tears.

Jack and Harry started to twitch, unsure what their next move should be. Maggie solved the problem by swatting each of them with a spatula.

Things settled down in the kitchen as the trio worked together to put breakfast on the table. The conversation mainly concerned Lizzie and how disappointed she was going to be that her possible appointment to the United States Supreme Court was all a hoax.