Executive orders - Tom Clancy [528]
It is possible that this was a deliberate act, sir?
We're not sure, and I can't talk about that until I have good information one way or the other.
You've had a busy time, Mr. President. The reporter was local, not part of the Washington scene. He didn't know how to talk to a President, or so others might think. Regardless, this one was going out live on NBC, though even the reporter didn't know that.
Yeah, I guess I have.
Sir, can you give us any hope?
Ryan turned at that. For the people who're sick, well, the hope comes from the docs and the nurses. They're fine people. You can see that here. They're fighters, warriors. I'm very proud of my wife and what she does. I'm proud of her now. I asked her not to do this. I suppose that's selfish of me, but I said it anyway. Some people tried to kill her once before, you know. I don't mind danger to me, but my wife and kids, no, it's not supposed to happen to them. Not supposed to happen to any of these people. But it did, and now we have to do our best to treat the sick ones and make sure people don't get sick unnecessarily. I know my executive order has upset a lot of people, but I can't live with not doing something that might save lives. I wish there were an easier way, but if there is. nobody's told me about it yet. You see, it's not enough to say, 'No, I don't like that.' Anybody can do that. We need more right now. Look, I'm pretty tired, he said, looking away from the camera. Can we call it a day for now?
Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. President.
Sure. Ryan turned away, walking south, just wandering really, toward the big parking garages. He saw a man smoking a cigarette there, a black man about forty, in defiance of the signs that prohibited the vice within sight of this shrine of medical learning. POTUS walked up to him, heedless of the three agents and two soldiers behind him.
Got a spare?
Sure. The man didn't even look up as he sat on the edge of the brick planter, looking down at the concrete. His left hand held out the pack and a butane lighter at arm's length. By unspoken consent they didn't sit close together.
Thanks. Ryan sat down about four feet away from the man, reaching to hand the items back.
You, too, man?
What do you mean?
My wife's in there, got the sickness. She work with a family, nanny, like. They're all sick. Now she is, too.
My wife's a doc, she's up there with 'em.
Ain't gonna matter, man. Ain't gonna matter at all.
I know. Ryan took a long pull and let it out.
Won't even let me in, say it too dangerous. Takin' my blood, say I gotta stay close, won't let me smoke, won't let me see her. Sweet Jesus, man, how come?
If it was you who was sick, and you knew that you might give it to your wife, what would you do?
He nodded with angry resignation. I know. The doctor said that. He's right. I know. But that don't make it right. He paused. Helps to talk.
Yeah, I guess it does.
The fuckers did this, like they say on TV, somebody did this. Fuckers gotta pay, man.
Ryan didn't know what to say then. Somebody else did. It was Andrea Price: Mr. President? I have the DCI for you.
That turned the man's head. He looked at Ryan in the yellow-orange lighting. You're him.
Yes, sir, Jack answered quietly.
You say your wife is workin' up there?
A nod. A sigh. Yeah, she's been working here for fifteen years. I came in to see her, and see how it is, how it's going. I'm sorry
What'd'ya mean?
They won't let you in, but they let me in.
He grimaced. Guess you gotta see, eh? Tough what happened with your little girl last week. She okay?
Yeah, she's fine. At that age, well, you know how it is.
Good. Hey, thanks for talking with me.
Thanks for the smoke, the President said, standing and walking to Agent Price. He took the phone. Ed, it's Jack.
Mr. President, we need you back. We have something you need to see, Ed Foley told him. He wondered how he would