VICE PRESIDENT BAXTER had just finished bawling out Dallas King. Less than thirty minutes earlier, Baxter had been blindsided by the information that President Hayes was no longer out of the loop and that he himself was no longer in charge. After being humiliated like never before in his life, Baxter had gotten off the phone and started screaming at Dallas King. The vice president went into a tirade, blaming his chief of staff for the entire mess, belaboring the point that he should never have listened to a word of King's advice.
King had taken the verbal beating without a fight. Secretly he was relieved. Baxter not becoming president wouldn't end his career, but Abu Hasan making it out of the White House and telling his story to the FBI or media would.
"With Hayes back in charge, the odds were a raid would be ordered.
King let his boss vent until there was nothing left and then turned the tables. Methodically, he made his case, pointing out that they had saved the lives of twenty-five people and had sacrificed what? Some money that wasn't even theirs and some sanctions that weren't even working. King stressed to Baxter that there was no way they could have played it any better. And then in an attempt to help bolster his boss's ego. King proclaimed that history would judge his three days as president as some of the most difficult ever served by the nation's chief executive. That history would remember him as someone who put the lives of Americans above money and a failed foreign policy.
"Remember, it ain't over till it's over." King was building strength in his position With each passing minute, he could see that he was getting to Baxter. King paced back and forth in front of the desk, and then suddenly stopped.
"This is perfect.
Absolutely perfect."
"What is?"
"Hayes may have just done you the biggest favor of his career." King clapped his hands together.
"You're off the hook, and the timing couldn't be better. So far you've only had to deal with the little demands. Tomorrow Aziz is going to ask for something big, and you are not going to have to be the one to say yes or no." King was grinning ear to ear. "They are going to have to storm the White House, and Hayes is going to have to give the order."
The vice president began to see the bright side.
"There just might be a way out of this."
The door to the study suddenly burst open, and one of the vice president's staffers rushed in yelling, "Turn on the TV! The White House is on fire!"
Baxter sprang from his chair and grabbed the remote control from his desk. The TV came on almost instantly. Within seconds, images of fire engines racing through the White Houses gates appeared. In the background flames could be seen shooting out of windows. Baxter turned up the volume. The anchor was saying that people on the scene were telling him that as of yet no survivors had been seen coming out of the building.
As soon as the anchor said the words "no survivors," Dallas King ushered the aide back out of the room and closed the door. The two of them stood for several minutes, watching the live coverage. There were flames everywhere. Firemen were manning hoses from the ground and from the top of hook-and-ladder trucks.
King turned to his boss, unable to hide the smile on his face.
"No one is going to make it out of there alive."
All Baxter could do was shake his head.
King stared at the TV for a while longer and then said, "We need to let the media know that you are not responsible for this disaster." King pointed to the screen.
"Hayes is responsible for this mess, and we have to make sure everyone knows that."
King felt as if he were floating on air. He was going to get away with it.
Baxter looked at his chief of staff and said, "Dallas, this is a tragedy."
"Life is a tragedy, Sherman. Thirty thousand people a year die in car accidents, another hundred thousand from cigarettes." King pointed to his boss. "Now, that's a real tragedy. This is not good. Don't get me wrong. Some people might consider it a tragedy, but it's my job to make sure they don't think you caused it." King picked up the phone on his boss's desk and punched in a phone number. When he got the persons voice mail, he pressed zero and got the operator on the line.
"I need to speak to Sheila Dunn immediately! Tell her Dallas King, the vice presidents chief of staff, is on the line."
King was put on hold. Standing next to his boss, he watched the White House burn on the TV. In the back of his mind, he was chanting. Burn, baby, burn.