The President's Agenda Read online



  The President’s Agenda

  By

  Len Calderone

  Copyright © 2015 by Len Calderone

  All rights reserved by author

  Thank you for downloading this eBook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoyed this book, then encourage your friends to download their own copy.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Story

  Other stories by author

  The President’s Agenda

  Stephen Dodd was not sure how he would approach the Director with his information. Walking quickly down the antiseptic corridor on the seventh floor, his mind was in turmoil, as he anticipated the response that he would get. There was no easy way to present the report, which he received from the field office just moments ago. Nothing like this has ever happened in the United States before, and he was the one to make the indictment.

  Quickly, he ducked into the men’s room, walked up to the sink and stared at his self in the mirror. What looked back was a forty year old face, with a look of disbelief. His brown eyes betrayed his worry. After twenty-two years as an analyst with the Agency, he will reveal to the Director information, which will make him a hero or an inept idiot to be put out to pasture.

  Stephen held one of the most important positions in the Agency’s operations — that of a CIA analyst. He is responsible for the comprehension and interpretation of the information collected by agents in the field. Stephen was at the forefront of the fight for the nation's security. He looks for ties between seemingly unrelated pieces of information, so the United States’ interests, at home and abroad, are safe. This is what he is doing today.

  The field agent was certain of what was going down in Brazil, and was verifying the facts that he sent Stephen only moments before. Stephen straightened his red power tie and gave a quick once over of his dark blue suit with light gray pinstripes. He was very fastidious about his appearance, especially when meeting with the Director.

  Back in the corridor, he turned the corner and saw the Director’s secretary, Denise, working at her Dell computer. All though this situation had his utmost attention, he couldn’t help notice her auburn hair, pulled back into a bun, which enhanced her flawless face and green eyes. Her white silk blouse was trimmed in lace around her neck with sleeves that flowed down her arms down to her long fingers, which moved smoothly across her keyboard.

  As Stephen approached her desk, Denise looked up, while turning a pile of papers over so that they could not be seen by wandering eyes.

  “Mr. Dodd, the Director is expecting you. Please wait while I announce you.”

  Stephen and Aiden Melrose, Director of the CIA, worked closely together for the last twelve years, yet Denise still treats him like she does all visitors to the Director’s office, always formal, and he was kept waiting while she announced his arrival. You would think that such an important analyst for the Agency would be given a little latitude by a secretary, even if she worked for one of the most powerful men in Washington.

  “The Director will see you now, Mr. Dodd.” With barely and smile, she went back to her desk and waited until Stephen walked past her desk before turning the papers back over, continuing where she had left off.

  As Stephen entered the office, he faced a long conference table, which seated twenty. The door opened to the center of the table, where special meetings and the daily briefings were held. Not meant to be a formal meeting room, the Director liked the closeness of the room, and he had all of the latest technology ready for use at a moment’s notice, whether he needed a video conference link to a field office, communications with the President, or just wanting to see what Fox News is saying about the administration.

  The Director’s massive cherry desk was on the left of the conference table. He was surrounded with phones, computers and other technical paraphernalia. Just as Stephen turned and headed his way, Aiden stood and moved around his desk, greeting Stephen. The director was tall at 6'2". His tailored suit fit well over his exceptionally muscled physique, which he kept in shape at the Agency's gym every morning before starting the day's grind. Not a strand of his brown hair was out of place.

  Aiden held a law degree from Harvard. During his career he dabbled in venture capital and was an investor in the private sector, where he amassed a small fortune. His career in government spanned the last twenty-two years, including the position of Under Secretary of the Navy and then as chief negotiator with the Soviet Union, which knowledge made him the perfect candidate for the position of Director of the C.I.A.

  “Didn’t I just see you this morning,” Aiden stated, laughing and reaching out to take Stephen’s hand.

  “I guess you just can’t get rid of me.”

  “What is so earth shattering that you needed to see me immediately? Has the world come to an end?”

  “I’m not sure that I know how to break this to you. You might just think that I have lost it and send me away in a straightjacket.”

  “Well, you might as well start at the beginning. How about some coffee? We’re out of donuts. You guys took care of them this morning. Make yourself comfortable while I fetch us a cup.” Aiden stepped over to the serving table and placed two Noritake bone china cups on saucers. He filled the cups with freshly brewed Seattle’s Best Coffee, added a dash of cream to Stephen’s cup and finished with two pouches of Stevia sweetener. He handed the cup to Stephen, as he sat down with a cup of totally black unsweetened coffee.

  “Now, tell me what you have.”

  “About thirty minutes ago, I received a call on the secure land line from our agent, Strozzi, in Rio. As you know, the President just arrived there onboard Air Force One to attend an environmental summit. From what Strozzi tells me, the summit is just a decoy for another meeting that will take place at the Marriott. The Marriott meeting is not on the President’s schedule, and no one knows about this special meeting outside of a few Secret Service agents. One of these agents happens to be a good friend of Strozzi, who thought the meeting was a little out of the ordinary.”

  Stephen took a breath and a long sip from the initialed china cup. Placing the cup back in its saucer, Stephen looked at Aiden and knew from the man's facial expression that he had his full attention.

  “What’s so special about the President having a side meeting at the summit? That’s not so unusual.”

  “Right. But…” Stephen hesitated. “It’s the other participants in the meeting that aroused Strozzi’s interest.”

  “Okay, how long do you intend to keep me in suspense?”

  “There are four others in attendance. You know George Sabat, the financier, who backed the President's run for office.” Stephen paused for effect and then continued, “Masoud Naceri, the President of Iran is also attending, along with Al-Qaeda military leader, Qassim al-Raimi and Prof. Hazan Ihsan, the Secretary General of the Organization of Islamic Cooperation, which is part of the U.N. Now, does this sound like a strange meeting? ”

  Aiden sat up, his mouth hanging open. “Are you sure of this? There is no mistake?”

  “None. Strozzi has been a field agent in Brazil for the past seven years. He is very good at his job. He holds a master's degree in international relations. He speaks several languages, in
cluding Persian, Pashto, and Arabic, which he learned while stationed in Kuwait, and of course Brazilian Portuguese."

  Stephen paused, and then continued, "The president told his security detail that this was a special peace conference, but no Secret Service personnel would be allowed in the room. It was one of these agents, who tipped off Strozzi.”

  “Something doesn’t feel right about this. Can we get confirmation of the meeting?”

  “Thanks to Strozzi’s contact in the Service, he was able to install a hidden camera and microphone in the hotel suite where the meeting will take place.” Stephen looked at his Montblanc Villeret watch. “In just over two hours, the meeting will take place; and with a little luck, we will be the fly on the wall.”

  Stephen continued, “The guest list also came from Strozzi’s contact. The President had to reveal his visitors so that the Secret Service will allow them access to the President’s suite. When he saw the names, Strozzi called me straight away.”

  “How can we get in on this?” inquired Aiden.

  “Strozzi will send us a satellite feed when the participants arrive. With all of this gear that you have here, we should have a front row seat.”

  Aiden reached over a pulled an intercom from the center of the table and pushed a button, which notified Denise that the Director was requesting her appearance. No sooner had Aiden pushed the call button, than Denise stuck her head in the door. “You rang?”

  “Yes, please call the Director of the FBI and the Attorney General and tell them we have an emergency and they have to be here within the hour. Oh, call the Secretary of Defense and request his appearance as well. Do not take no from any of them.”

  With that, Denise vanished from whence she came.

  As the hands of the clock on the Directors desk moved toward 3:00 p.m., the Attorney General, Barry Brent, flew through the door and into the Director’s office still wearing a Polo golf shirt and bright green slacks. He was almost as tall as Aiden, but with a bushy main of gray hair. The long hours on the golf course gave him a deep tan.

  “This better be good, Aiden. You pulled me off the 9th green and I was two strokes in the lead.” The Attorney General never missed a Saturday tee off at the Alexandria Golf Club, where he played with a minus one handicap.

  “This is better than good Barry,” Aiden replied as he shook Barry’s hand and offered him a seat at the now empty table. “I requested the presence of Duncan Eddy and Gavin Gilbert.”

  “How did you manage to get in touch with the Director of the FBI and the Secretary of Defense on a Saturday? They’re probably off fishing together on some remote river.”

  “Denise has her ways. Coffee?”

  “Yes, now what is this all about that you need all three of us here?”

  “I’ll let Stephen tell you” With that Stephen entered the room, like a man on a mission, which he was. After finishing his coffee, he went back to his office to speak with his contact in Rio. He didn't need to make any mistakes concerning this matter. His career was at stake.

  Noticing Barry, Stephen inquired, “Hi Barry. I see you’ve abandoned your wife for another day with the boys on the golf course.”

  “You just mind your own business and let me deal with my family.” There was a great deal of animosity between the two men ever since Barry found out that Stephen was trying to get Barry’s wife to divorce him and marry Stephen, who was more of a homebody, which appealed to Barry’s wife.

  Stephen met Joyce at a State function a few years ago, and after an evening of close dancing, they remained intimate. At the time, Barry was too busy building his career and kissing up to the President during the Present’s run for office to notice. It was during one of the family arguments that Barry learned that Joyce was planning to leave him. He talked her out of it and hated Stephen ever since.

  As a follow up, Barry sarcastically inquired, “Then you tell me what’s going on so that I can get back to my golf game.”

  Stephen shot back, “You can forget your game, Barry. This is going to be a long day and maybe a longer night. Drink your coffee. I will fill you in as soon as Duncan and Gavin arrive.”

  The words no sooner left Stephen’s mouth when the door opened and the two men entered together. Aiden went to the door and spoke to Denise. “We are not to be interrupted for any reason short of the building burning down.”

  “Okay, you two get some coffee while Stephen fills us in.”

  Duncan was appointed Director of the FBI, just three years ago, when the President took office, as his predecessor retired to academia. He looked more like a school teacher with his horn-rimmed glasses and well groomed beard. He was an anomaly, as most in his position were clean shaven. He still had on his fishing vest and kakis. He was the first to reach the serving table and began to pour for Gavin and him from the silver carafe. Duncan took his job seriously and mobilized the Bureau to concentrate on active terrorist threats within the U.S.

  Gavin shook hands with everyone with his usual crushing grip, which he developed in the Army Rangers. His rise through the ranks was due to field smarts and many successful combat missions, the latest being in Iraq, where he was the liaison between the Sunnis and Shias, who have been at war with each other for thousands of years. Duncan finally talked the two groups into working together to build a secure Iraq. He hung up his general’s stars for a civilian suit eight years ago and has dominated the pentagon ever since. Like Duncan, he was dressed for a day of fishing on the Potomac.

  Stephen started, “Gentlemen, you are not going to like what you are about to see. Within the next few minutes, a CIA agent in Rio will be broadcasting a secret meeting between POTUS and several questionable characters. I just found out about the meeting a few hours ago and had a satellite feed ready for you to see what will unfold from this meeting, which is being captured by hidden video equipment. I consider this information to be top secret and to be discussed only among ourselves at this point.”

  “I thought…” started Gavin, but Stephen continued Gavin’s sentence for him. “Yes, the President is in Rio for a Summit, but this meeting is off the record and unknown to all but a few Secret Service personnel. This is how we learned of the meeting.”

  “What’s this have to do with the FBI?” asked Duncan.

  Just as Stephen started to reply, the 90” x 160” video screen at the end of the table came alive, and a voice spilled out from the speakers. “Mr. Dodd, can you hear me?”

  “Yes, go ahead.”

  “The guests have arrived and I am going to switch the image to the hotel. You should be able to hear the entire conversation. Call me if you have any problem”

  “That is our agent in Rio. He arranged the secret camera and satellite connection,” stated Stephen.

  The Marriott Hotel Rio de Janeiro is one of Brazil's premier Copacabana hotels with its rooftop pool, and featuring sweeping views of Sugar Loaf Mountain, Corcovado and Christ the Redeemed, the most famous Rio de Janeiro attraction. The image of the hotel meeting room flashed up on the screen; and the men could see a highly polished coffee table in front of a striped sofa with two chairs at each end of the table, which was laid out with sandwiches and what appeared to be a tea serving. The four men, including the President, were seated around the table, the President pouring tea.

  Aiden flipped the switch for the meeting room lights affording the group a high definition video image.

  “Are they who I think they are?” asked Duncan, straining as if he was trying to get into the room with the participants.

  “I don’t recognize the man opposite the President,” responded Gavin.

  “He is Prof. Hazan Ihsan of the U.N.,” answered Stephen. “I think you all know the rest.”

  The President started the meeting. “Thank you all for coming. As you know, the political atmosphere in America has changed drastically. I was able to make many changes, giving the government greater power, but all of my goals have not yet been reached.” He took a sip from his tea cup and continued,
“Our full plan would have been realized during my second administration, but it looks like the Tea Party has upset the balance of power and I might not be able to overcome their momentum.”

  The Professor spoke up, “Do not worry, Mr. President, I have set in motion your nomination as Secretary-General of the U.N. after you leave the presidency. Using this new position, you will still be able to influence the direction of America, especially if we can get the new president to sign the international anti-gun treaty. We will then be able to disarm the American people.”

  “When that happens, we have sleeper cells in mosques all over America ready to use death and destruction to bring down the government through a workers’ revolution,” interjected Qassim al-Raimi.

  Sabat added, “At least my money has done you well. Being elected with a Democratic Congress behind you, you were able to run up the national debt to a point that I doubt the country will survive, and S&P’s downgrading of the country’s credit rating, will add billions to America's debt.”

  The Attorney General looked around at the others with disbelief written over his face. “This is just too much…”

  The sound of Sabat’s voice interrupted Barry, “Your many social programs, supposedly to help Americans, will cost them more than they can ever imagine. You know, I thought that the Speaker's comment about all of the people they will help was a gem. The American people were completely bamboozled.”

  “Don’t worry George,’ responded the President, “When the one world order takes over, you will be wealthy beyond your wildest imagination, after all isn’t that why you are in this?”

  “Giving the unions all that stimulus money, which they wasted, was brilliant. You added many workers to our cause; and when you over burdened the business community with all of those environmental regulations, causing all those jobs to be lost, you turned the unemployed to our side, and the low income citizens will be ready to explode right next to Al-Qaeda like they are doing in Europe”, interjected Qassim al-Raimi.

  "How is the violence on the border coming?” asked the President, turning to Qassim al-Raimi.