Transfer of Power

SECRET SERVICE AGENT Warch walked into the president’s secretary’s office, which was sandwiched in between the Cabinet Room and the Oval Office.

“Sally, I need to see him ASAP” Sally Burke finished writing something and looked up, smiling.

“Good morning. Jack.” The president’s secretary could tell by the tone ofwarch’s voice that he was in a hurry, but he could take a number with all of the other people who daily streamed into her office in an attempt to get some face time with America’s highest elected official.

“He’s in with someone right now. It’ll probably be twenty minutes to a half an hour.”

Warch shook his head. “It can’t wait that long. I have to see him right away.”

Burke had had many dealings with Warch over the last five months, but she had never seen him look quite so concerned.

“I don’t know what you want me to do’ Jack He’s meeting with a foreign dignitary. We can hardly go bursting in.”

“He’s meeting with what?” asked an angered Warch.

“I didn’t see anything on his schedule.”

Burke sat up a little straighter, somewhat surprised by the agent’s tone.

“It was a last-minute change.”

“Who is he meeting with?”

“russ Piper and ah-“ Burke looked down at her desk.

“Prince Kalib.”

Warch’s forehead creased.

“I don’t remember seeing a Prince Kalib on the WHAVS list.” WHAVS, pronounced “waves,” stood for White House Access Visitor System. The uniformed division used the system to screen guests for any criminal and/or mental history that could be threatening to the president.

Burke looked up sheepishly. “I don’t know what to say. The DNC added him to the list late last night.”

“Goddamnit,” cursed Warch through clenched teeth.

“How many times do I have to tell you people that no one gets in to see him unless we’ve done a complete check?” Warch backed away from the desk and thought about his options. If he barged in on a meeting with a foreign dignitary and everything turned out to be a false alarm, Hayes would have his ass.

Warch looked back to the president’s secretary.

“Where is Prince Kalib from?”

“Oman, I think.” Burke nervously checked her planner.

Warch was acting very out of character

“Yes, he’s from Oman.”

Warch’s suspicion doubled at the mention of the tiny Persian Gulf state.

In a quick clipped voice, warch asked, “Has he ever been to the White House before?”

“No.” Burke shook her head.

“Not that I know of.”

Warch had to decide, and he had to decide fast. His mind quickly scrolled through a list of possibilities, and all the while his conversation with Irene Kennedy loomed larger and larger. Warch paced back and forth in front of Burkes desk, and then finally his instincts kicked in. He turned for the door that Special Agent Ellen Morton was standing next to, and his left hand snapped up to his mouth. He was about to make the best or the worst decision of his career. Into the hand mike, the special agent in charge of the president’s detail barked out the command, “Warch to detail. Harden up on the Oval Office!”