Mistress

Chapter 109

“The Russians approached Carney because he was the perfect choice,” I say. “He was CIA and he was one of your best friends. He was the perfect person to covertly deliver the message to you. But Carney didn’t deliver that message. He kept it to himself and some small team of thugs over at the CIA, who probably didn’t even know the details. He didn’t tell you, Mr. President, because he knew that no matter how embarrassing that video would be, no matter how politically damaging, you would never sell out your country.”

The president, customarily a commanding presence in any room, the hunter-gatherer sort, has wilted. He is ashen and uncertain, his hand against a wall. This is a lot for him. He’s considering the damage to his administration and his reelection campaign. He’s thinking of his wife. And he’s thinking that he has been betrayed by one of his closest and most trusted friends. What I don’t know is the order in which he’s prioritizing these things.

“Carney knew the video, if it ever got out, would ruin you politically, sir. Which would ruin him politically. He wants to be CIA director. So he made the decision all by himself.”

The president pinches the bridge of his nose, seemingly addressing a massive headache. “The explosion near the White House the other day?” he asks.

“That was the Russians, chasing me,” I say. “They were trying to kill me before I could find a copy of the video.” I watch him for a moment. “Let me guess. Carney took over that investigation, didn’t he? He probably told you it was al-Qaeda or something.”

The president doesn’t answer. He doesn’t have to.

“And do you have this…video?” he asks, saying the last word as though he’s just swallowed a bitter pill.

“No, I don’t,” I say. This might not make the top ten list of smartest moves I’ve ever made. Every bit of leverage I’ve been able to maintain in this sordid affair has come about because of that video. And now I’m willingly giving up that chit. But I’m not going to lie to the leader of the free world. I’m done bluffing. I’m going to stick with the truth for a while and see where that gets me.

“Mr. President, I don’t care about your personal life. Or the First Lady’s. If I wanted to expose it, I could have done so today in front of the national press. All I said was ‘blackmail.’ I didn’t say what the blackmail was.”

He turns and looks at me. “You could have come directly to me,” he says. “You didn’t have to confront me publicly.”

“Yes, I did. Until just now, I didn’t know that Carney was running this operation solo. I thought you were part of this. And I had to stop what was happening.”

The president rights himself and brushes his suit jacket. This will not go down as one of his better days.

“You’re a reporter,” he says. “And you’re telling me you won’t say anything about my wife?”

“That’s what I’m telling you. The public doesn’t need to know about her personal life. Not unless it affects your foreign policy strategy.”

The president breaks eye contact with me and nods. “So if that strategy were to change, and we were to oppose a Russian invasion?”

“No, no.” I wave him off. “I’m not making a deal with you, Mr. President. Just tell me you’re going to do what you think is best for our country. That’s all I care about.”

The president takes a deep breath and sizes me up. “You’re not really helping your bargaining position here, son.”

“That’s because I’m not bargaining. I did what I had to do. Now I’ll deal with the fallout.”

The president starts with a comment but thinks better of it. I think, somewhere in that look he gives me, he is thanking me. Then he shakes his head, exasperated, and leaves the room.