Authors: Gerald Petievich
Powers moved past a long well-stocked bar and black leather booths filled with well-dressed men and women. The walls were covered with flower prints.
Richard Eggleston, in an unwrinkled suit and tie, was sitting in the second booth from the window between two conservatively dressed women who were his secretaries. The women greeted Powers as he approached the table. Eggleston seemed suddenly ill at ease.
"Jack. I didn't get a chance to wish you well before you ... uh ... retired."
"I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner, but I need to speak with you in private."
Eggleston excused himself from the table and followed Powers to the front door.
"Where are we going?"
"Would you mind if we talk outside?"
"This must be a real doosie."
Eggleston followed him out the door cautiously. "What's up, Jack?"
"I need a meeting with the President," Powers said, looking Eggleston in the eye.
Eggleston started to smile, then stopped when he saw Powers wasn't joking. "What about?"
"About the national security."
"Jack, you've been around long enough to know it'll take more than that to get a meeting with the man."
"I know this is going to sound crazy, but I have good reason to believe there is a plot to undermine the President."
"By whom?"
"By someone with high access."
"Can you give me a name?"
"I don't know who, but I think the President will figure it out once I tell him what I know."
"You know how this works, Jack. The Chief of Staff is the only one who can set up the meeting you want."
"I'm asking you to set up a meeting without going through Morgan. I have to speak with the President one on one."
"I can't do that-"
"Look. You've known me since this administration came to the White House. I'm not crazy and I'm not an alarmist," Powers said.
Eggleston realized he was holding a cloth napkin and shoved it in his suit coat pocket. "The President is headed for Camp David to prepare for the election debates, and you expect me to go rushing in to him with something I don't understand?"
"I need to speak with the President on a matter affecting the national security," Powers said, gritting his teeth. "Do you understand that?"
"Jack, you're not a special agent any longer. Can't you just tell me and I'll relay it, word for word? I promise."
"No. It's too sensitive."
"Then you can write it down and I'll take the note straight to him-"
"Listen to me," Powers interrupted. "I took care of a political chore for the President, and now someone is trying to kill
me and Pete Sullivan is missing. If you don't let me talk to him you'll be responsible when everything blows up in his face."
"You say someone is trying to kill you?"
"Yes. And Sullivan may be in danger."
"I see."
"Don't look at me like I'm some goddam lunatic. There's nothing wrong with me. I'm not crazy. Just phone the President. He'll know what I'm talking about. If you tell him exactly what I've said, I know he'll agree to see me."
Eggleston rubbed his chin for a moment.
"Look at me," Powers said. "I'm not crazy."
Eggleston looked him in the eyes. "I'll make the call," he said finally.
Eggleston went back inside the restaurant. Powers paced back and forth on the sidewalk for what must have been ten minutes. Finally, he said to himself, the nightmare would be over. The President would provide the missing facts and everything would make sense.
The door swooshed open with a blast of restaurant air. Eggleston stepped out cautiously, looking up and down.
"What did he say?" Powers said.
"I have a pool car picking us up," he said, without looking Powers in the eye. "We're going to Camp David."
"I'd like to meet him without the Secret Service working shift finding out," Powers said.
"I can have him come to my quarters. No one from the working shift would enter my private office," Eggleston said matter-of-factly.
Powers, like everyone who's ever been a law enforcement officer, had developed radar for detecting lies. Was it a change in Eggleston's tone of voice since making the call?
"Who's picking us up?"
Eggleston was staring down the street. "One of the military drivers," he said, looking down the street.
Powers suddenly realized something was wrong.
"I asked you what the man said, but you didn't answer my question."
Eggleston turned to him. "Jack, the President said he didn't know what I was talking about."
Powers felt a chill on his neck.
A black Chevrolet sedan sped through the red light at the corner and, with brakes squealing, came to a stop at the curb in front of them.
The front passenger door flew open and Special Agent John Capizzi jumped out, aiming his revolver at Powers. "Jack Powers, you are under arrest for suspicion of threatening the life of the President of the United States!"
A police car sped around the corner and pulled up. Two uniformed DC policemen burst from the car pointing guns.
Powers raised his hands.
"I'm sorry, Jack," Eggleston said. "But you'll be able to get some help now."
One of the police officers shoved him roughly against the sedan and frisked him. As he was handcuffed, Capizzi, in his heavy New York accent, was reading him his Miranda rights from a card, Restaurant customers were coming out to watch.
"We'll take it from here, Mr. Eggleston," Capizzi said.
"Get him out of here before the press gets wind of this," Eggleston said.
"I haven't done anything," Powers said to Capizzi. "This is a setup."
"Relax. Everything's going to be okay."
"Can't you see I'm not crazy, you dumb son of a bitch?" Powers shouted.
A policeman grabbed Powers's arm and shoved him into the back seat of the sedan. As he leaned forward with his arms shackled tightly behind him, the cops climbed in on either side and pulled the doors closed.
At Secret Service headquarters, Powers was seated at a small wooden table in an interview room reeking of cigarette residue. The walls were pale green, the ceiling yellowish, and a small ashtray formed out of aluminum foil decorated the table.
Powers's right hand, tightly handcuffed to a reinforced eyebolt protruding from the table, was starting to get numb. He'd been ensconced in the room immediately upon arrival, probably so that Capizzi could phone the Protective Research Section and take credit for the big arrest.
The door handle turned and Capizzi came in the room and sat down at the table.
"How do you feel, Jack?"
"What the hell is going on?"
"I just need to ask you a few questions," Capizzi said condescendingly. "What's all this about having to see the President?"
"Let's get something straight. I'm not crazy," Powers said. "But I did ask to see the President."
"What about?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"Jack, you can level with me. I'm your friend-"
"Capizzi. For once, please try to pull your head out of your ass. "
"I'm someone you can confide in, Jack. We used to work together. "
"Capizzi, you're not the kind of guy anyone should confide in. That's why I'm guessing you're an unwitting participant in this. And even if I was guilty of something, I'd die before I'd confess it to an asshole like you."
"We're going to get you some help."
"Please, just shut your mouth for a minute and let me talk."
"Sure, Jack."
"I'm not crazy. I haven't made any threats. Whoever told you that is lying. I was on duty at the White House less than three weeks ago. Did I look like I was crazy then?"
"No one is saying you're crazy."
Powers felt his face flush with anger and frustration. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. "I need to talk to the President because someone tried to kill me tonight, and it relates to a political chore I handled for him."
"What chore is this?"
"I can't tell you."
"Those people who tried to kill you ... do you think they are still out there?"
Powers's mind raced. There was no other option. "I killed them first," he said.
"Can't blame you for defending yourself," Capizzi said, as if conversing with a child.
"If you were telling me this I might not believe you either," Powers said, baring his teeth. "But so help me God it's true. This is why I need to talk with the President before it's too late."
Capizzi opened his notebook and began filling out what Powers knew was a mental evaluation form. Per standard Secret Service procedure in presidential threat cases, he was going to commit Powers to a mental institution for a three-day psychiatric evaluation.
"If you take me to the Rustic Inn in Great Falls I'll point out the bodies."
"You're telling me you killed two people?" Capizzi said, without looking up from the paperwork.
"A man and a woman armed with Berettas. It was self-defense."
"How did you kill them?"
"With one of their own guns."
Capizzi nodded. "Where is the gun?"
"I prefer not to tell you at this point," Powers said, realizing that if he told him about Susan it might endanger her. "Don't sit there treating me like some presidential threat case. There's nothing wrong with me. Acting in self-defense, I had to kill two people. "
Capizzi stopped writing, stood up, and left the room. He came back a few minutes later. "There were no murders reported tonight."
"Take me there and I'll point out the bodies to you. You'll see what I'm telling you is the truth. I'm asking you, man to man, to take me there."
"How do I know you're not going to try and get away?"
"Bring ten agents along with us. Chain my feet. No one could ever criticize you for following up on what I'm telling you. You're covered."
Capizzi stood there for a moment. "Okay." He left the room and returned in a few minutes with four young special agents from the Protective Research Section responsible for investigating those who threaten the President. They led him down a hallway and took an elevator to the underground garage. Capizzi led him to a sedan and opened the door for him. He sat in the back seat with Powers, and one of the agents climbed behind the wheel.
A police radio car containing two uniformed policemen and two detectives followed them to the Rustic Inn parking lot.
Before Capizzi allowed Powers to leave the sedan, one of the uniformed policemen brought leg shackles to the car and affixed them to Powers's legs. Tripping now and then on the leg chain, Powers led the group of cops up the steps. There was the sound of leaves underfoot as the group, surrounding him in case he tried to run, moved into the forest.