The Inner Circle - Brad Meltzer [101]
It wasn’t easy for him. And it wasn’t easy for him now. But as he learned from his own father, big lives required big sacrifice. The thing is, growing up in Ohio, Palmiotti never thought he’d have a big life. He thought he’d have a good life. Not a big one. Not until that first day of fifth grade, when he met Orson Wallace. But if Wallace was proof of anything, it was that, for Palmiotti, the big life was finally possible.
Still, to look at all that Palmiotti had sacrificed over the years—his time, his marriage, his defunct medical practice—to look at his life and realize that all those sacrifices were about to become worthless…
No. Palmiotti was capable of far more than anyone expected. And that’s exactly why the President kept him so close.
No matter what, this would be the end.
And there was nothing Beecher could do to stop it.
64
As Tot and I wait at the guardhouse, blocked by the yellow metal antiram barrier that sticks out from the concrete, we both reach for our IDs.
“Beautiful morning,” the guard with the bright white teeth calls out, waving us through without even approaching the car.
The metal barrier churns and lowers with its usual shriek, biting into the ground. We both wave back, confused.
There’s no ID check, no bomb sweep. Yesterday, we were enemies of the state; today we’re BFFs.
The guard even adds a wink as we pass his booth and ride down to the garage. A wink.
“Something’s wrong,” Tot insists.
Of course something’s wrong. But as I mentally replay Dallas’s words from last night, my mind wanders back to a few years ago when the Archives released all the personnel records of the OSS, the early version of the CIA. Historians had estimated that there were about six thousand people who had spied for the agency back during World War II. When the records were unsealed, there were actually twenty-four thousand previously unknown spies, including Julia Child, Supreme Court Justice Arthur Goldberg, and a catcher for the Chicago White Sox.
The OSS lasted a total of three years. According to Dallas, the Culper Ring has been around for two hundred.
As Tot pulls into his parking spot, I look over my shoulder and up the ramp of the garage, where White Teeth is still watching us. And smiling.
Dallas never said it… never even hinted it… but only a fool wouldn’t think that maybe this Culper Ring has a deeper reach than I originally thought.
“Look who else is visiting,” Tot whispers, working hard to climb out of the Mustang. As I elbow open the car door and join him outside, I finally see who he’s looking at: Over by the metal door that leads inside are two men in black body armor, both of them holding rifles. Secret Service.
From the look on Tot’s face, he has no idea why they’re here.
“Think Wallace is coming back?” he whispers.
“He’s definitely coming back.”
He shoots me a look. “How do you know?”
I take a breath, repracticing what I’ve been practicing all morning. It’s one thing to play it safe—for now, while I gather info—by not mentioning Dallas and the Culper Ring. But to hide that I’ll be with the President… to hide what I know Tot’ll find out…
“I’m the one staffing him,” I say as I slam the car door and head for the Secret Service.
Limping behind me, Tot’s too smart to make a scene. But as we flash our IDs and give quick head-nods to the Service, I can tell he’s pissed.
He doesn’t say a word until we’re in the elevator.
“When’d you find out?” Tot hisses just as the doors snap shut and we ride up to our offices.
“Last night. They emailed me last night.”
His good eye picks me apart. I know what he’s thinking.
“I was trying to tell you all morning,” I add as the elevator bobs and stops at our destination. “But when you brought up this Dr. Palmiotti—Who knows, maybe being alone with the President is a good thing. Maybe he’ll make me an offer or something.”
“Make you an offer? Who gave you a stupid idea like that?”
“I-I just thought of it,” I say, still thinking about what Dallas said last night.