Executive orders - Tom Clancy [455]
And the level of their training?
Not bad, sir.
ELLIOT HAD SURVEILLANCE on Ryan, right over there, Holtzman pointed as he brought the car into the 7-Eleven.
She was having him followed?
Liz hated his guts. I never-well, okay, I did figure it out. It was personal. She really had it in for Ryan, something that happened before Bob Fowler got elected. Enough that she leaked a story that was supposed to hurt his family. Nice, eh?
Plumber wasn't all that impressed. That's Washington.
True, but what about using official government assets for a personal vendetta? That may be real Washington, too, but it's against the law. He switched off the car and motioned for Plumber to get out.
Inside they found a diminutive owner, female, and a bunch of Amerasian kids stocking the shelves on this Saturday morning.
Hello, Carol Zimmer said. She recognized Holtzman from previous visits to buy bread and milk-and to eyeball the establishment. She had no idea he was a reporter. But she did recognize John Plumber. She pointed. You on TV!
Yes, I am, the commentator admitted with a smile.
The eldest son-his name tag said Laurence-came up with a less friendly look on his face. Can I help you with something, sir? His voice was unaccented, his eyes bright and suspicious.
I'd like to talk to you, if I might, Plumber asked politely.
About what, sir?
You know the President, don't you?
Coffee machine's that way, sir. You can see where the doughnuts are. The young man turned his back. His height must have come from his father, Plumber saw, and he had education.
Wait a minute! Plumber said.
Laurence turned back. Why? We have a business to run here. Excuse me.
Larry, be nice to man.
Mom, I told you what he did, remember? When Laurence looked back at the reporters, his eyes told the tale. They wounded Plumber in a way he hadn't known in years.
Excuse me. Please, the commentator said. I just want to talk to you. There aren't any cameras with me.
Are you in medical school now, Laurence? Holtzman asked.
How did you know that? Who the hell are you?
Laurence! his mother objected.
Wait a minute, please. Plumber held his hands up. I just want to talk. No cameras, no recorders. Everything is off the record.
Oh, sure. You give us your word on that?
Laurence!
Mom, let me handle this! the student snapped, then instantly apologized. Sorry, Mom, but you don't know what this is about.
I'm just trying to figure out-
I saw what you did, Mr. Plumber. Didn't anybody tell you? When you spit on the President, you spit on my father, too! Now, why don't you buy what you need and take a hike. The back turned again.
I didn't know, John protested. If I've done something wrong, then why don't you tell me about it? I promise, you have my word, I will not do anything to hurt you or your family. But if I've done something wrong, please tell me.
Why you hurt Mr. Ryan? Carol Zimmer asked. He good man. He look after us. He-
Mom, please. These people don't care about that! Laurence had to come back and handle this. His mom was just too naive.
Laurence, my name is Bob Holtzman. I'm with the Washington Post. I've known about your family for several years now. I never ran the story because I didn't want to invade your privacy. I know what President Ryan is doing for you. I want John to hear it from you. It will not become public information. If I wanted that to happen, I would have done it myself.
Why should I trust you? Laurence Zimmer demanded. You're reporters. That remark broke through Plumber's demeanor hard and sharp enough to cause physical pain. Had his profession sunk so low as that?
You're studying to be a doctor? Plumber asked, starting at square one.
Second year at Georgetown. I have a brother who's a senior at MIT, and a sister who just started at UVA.
It's expensive. Too expensive for what you make off this business. I know. I had to educate my kids.
We all work here. I work weekends.
You're studying