The Oracle Year(29)

Leuchten considered this. Senator Aaron Wilson, the president’s esteemed opponent, was proving to be a wily competitor—he was young, vital, with a clean background that included combat service in Desert Storm, and he was damnably quick with a sound bite. If that wasn’t enough, Leuchten was running Green’s campaign in the face of an amazing chain of unrelated events that had somehow locked together to tank the U.S. economy—uncertainty over the Oracle, of course, but also unrest in South America, a couple of hedge fund failures that had shaken Wall Street, spiking gas prices, and on it went. If it weren’t impossible, he’d almost say it had been planned. Whatever the real cause, though, everyone blamed the president for their 401(k)s shrinking, even if there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could have done about any of it.

“I’m sorry, Coach,” Leuchten said, pulling his head back to the moment, “but you have to understand that the president can’t be compromised in the way you’re proposing.”

“Well, he wouldn’t be compromised, sir,” the woman answered. “Oh, no, it’s not as bad as all that. For one thing, it would only be just the one time. I ask him to do one thing for me, could be anything from having me over for dinner to making a phone call—who knows? Once he helps out, he’s done, and he never hears from me again. Nothing to get upset about.

“Here. Let me show you.”

The Coach raised a hand in the air and called out across the room.

“Hey, Fred. You want to come in here for a second?”

A beat, and then one of the Secret Service agents entered the room, his face set in the same emotionless mask that they all held while they were on duty. Leuchten didn’t know his name—but apparently the Coach did, and apparently it was Fred.

“Nice to see you,” the Coach said. “Have a really quick question for you. Being on one of my teams . . . would you say it’s a good thing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Fred replied, without hesitation. “Absolutely.”

“And that whole favor payout back-end deal? No issues with that?”

“None. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, and whatever you need, I’m ready.”

Fred’s face didn’t change.

He just admitted to high treason . . . without blinking, Leuchten thought, almost in despair. Jesus. And we had no idea. With all our screening . . . and he’s next to the president every single day. No fucking idea!

“Thank you, Fred, I appreciate the recommendation, and consider that favor repaid. Now, chances are you’ll need a new gig after this—why don’t you fly on home with me and we’ll set something up for you.”

Fred nodded his head.

“That’s very kind of you, ma’am. I’ll wait outside, if you don’t need anything else?”

The Coach waved her hand toward the home’s front door.

“Sounds good. Bundle up, though. Cold out there.”

Leuchten and Franklin watched as Fred reached inside his coat and removed his badge and gun. He laid them on the dining room table, turned, and left without a word, closing the front door behind him.

They turned to look at the Coach, who was staring out the window, still smiling. She never seemed to stop smiling. She reached out, picked up her glass of scotch, and took a long sip, placing it right back in the ring of condensation on the tabletop when she was done.

“Franklin,” Leuchten said. “A word, please.”

He stood up and walked to the front door, snagging his coat as he went. Franklin stood, but turned toward the Coach before following Leuchten.

“Thank you,” Leuchten heard him say.

“Of course, Jim,” the Coach replied. “Anything for an old friend.”

Leuchten left the house, shrugging on his coat. He looked out at the Coach’s helicopter, where Fred the ex–Secret Service agent could be seen through the cockpit’s front windows, waiting patiently. Franklin appeared, closing the door behind him.

“I’ll need your resignation on the president’s desk in the morning, Jim,” Leuchten said.

Franklin’s gaze went very cold.

“And why is that?” he asked.

“You were obviously a member of one of the Coach’s teams at some point in the past. That’s how you know who she is and what she can do. The president can’t have people in his administration with conflicting loyalties. You’re out. Honestly, I have no idea why you told me about her in the first place. You had to know this would come out.”

Franklin’s eyes didn’t move.

“I told you, Anthony, because I am trying to protect my country,” he said. “People are dying. I think those Oracle riots are just the start. Something enormous is happening, and we need to understand it. Get ahead of it. The Coach seems like our best shot to do that.”

Franklin took a step closer to him.

“This might be hard for you to understand,” he said, “but I don’t do this job for myself. I do it for the people I can help by doing it.”

You sanctimonious prick, Leuchten thought. Like I don’t help anyone? I’m trying to save the goddamned world!

“Not anymore,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Franklin replied.

“Not anymore. You don’t do this job at all, in fact. Not once we’re back in DC.”