Drone

“And it goes without saying, once you arrive in Tehran, all bets are off. My promise is to deliver you alive and well today. My one goal in life is to make sure you have very few tomorrows. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Pearce stepped closer to the smiling Iranian.

“When this mess finally gets cleaned up, don’t be surprised if you find me knocking on your door.”

Ali didn’t flinch. “I shall be waiting with a cup of hot tea.”

“Dr. Khan will take care of you from here. And the two pilots up front? Both are armed, and both know who you are.”

Dr. Khan slipped back his sport coat, revealing a pistol on his hip. “Don’t worry, Mr. Pearce. There won’t be any trouble.” He glared at Ali.

“One more thing.” Pearce held out his smartphone for Ali to read. It had a text message on it for Ali from President Myers to Mehdi Sadr, the volatile president of the Iranian regime.

“Have you memorized her message?”

Ali nodded.

“It’s for President Sadr’s ears only. If he doesn’t contact her within twenty-four hours after your arrival, her offer is withdrawn. Understood?”

Ali nodded again. “I will deliver it as soon as I arrive.”

“Roll up your sleeve,” Khan ordered.

Pearce remained in the cabin until Ali was safely knocked out and tucked into bed with an IV drip in his arm.

“Thanks, Doc. I owe you one.”

“I’m just paying it forward, Mr. Pearce. My family owes you everything.”

Pearce stepped off the jet stairs just as a van rolled up to the hangar. Three men and two women swiftly exited the vehicle and began unloading the crates of high-tech gear they’d brought with them for the long flight to Tehran.

Washington, D.C.

After several days of testimony by experts hostile to the president’s agenda, the House Armed Services Committee hearing finally invited a Myers ally: Mike Early. As the president’s special assistant on security affairs, he was both appropriate and relevant to the hearing’s subject matter.

“Invited” was a term of art; the administration intended to fight any sort of summons on the grounds of separation of powers. But Early eagerly agreed to answer any questions put to him. He wasn’t even sworn in.

The first questions from the committee Republicans were personal, detailing Early’s extensive and heroic national service, and the next questions they asked were pure softballs that allowed him the chance to crow about the great successes of the national security structure in the past few weeks rounding up drug kingpins and wiping out the Bravo terrorists.

Representative Gormer let them ask all of the questions they needed to. Early’s smile got wider and wider as the morning went on, Gormer noted. Early relaxed, dropping his guard. He even cracked a few jokes.

Until Gormer dropped the bomb.

Gormer pulled his microphone closer. “Tell us, Mr. Early, exactly who is Troy Pearce?”

Early was caught short. In a million years, he wouldn’t have guessed that Gormer had any clue about Troy, let alone the balls to ask about him in the middle of an ongoing classified operation. The more he thought about the question, the angrier he became, but also the more confused. He hadn’t been briefed for this possibility.

“Troy Pearce is a friend of mine, and the CEO of Pearce Systems, a registered federal defense contractor.”

“And is it true that President Myers hired Mr. Pearce and Pearce Systems to conduct the targeted assassination of Mr. Aquiles Castillo, a private citizen of Mexico?”

Early couldn’t hear himself think as dozens of digital cameras whirred and flashed in front of him. A crowd of news photographers was squatting directly in front of his table, blasting away with their cameras like frenzied paparazzi.

“No comment, Mr. Chairman,” Early finally blurted out.

“Is it true this administration hired Mr. Pearce to murder other foreign nationals and to carry out its other clandestine foreign-policy objectives?”

“No comment.”

“Is it true that this administration has engaged the services of Pearce Systems to perform espionage operations against foreign governments, including Mexico, a respected ally?”

“No comment.”

And so it went.

The shit storm had begun and Early had forgotten to bring his umbrella.

* * *

The chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, Sandra Quinn (D-GA), watched the live hearings seated on a couch in Senator Diele’s office. In the chair next to her was Vice President Greyhill.

“Just like I promised,” Diele said. He wanted to see her reaction when Gormer dropped the bomb.

“Too bad Early’s not under oath,” Quinn said.

“The next time he’s on camera, he will be,” Greyhill assured her. “Just let him try and hide behind ‘executive privilege.’”

“I trust this means you’ll be moving forward with the impeachment resolution?” Diele asked.

“He delivered the goods, didn’t he?” Quinn was referring to the fact that Diele had spilled the beans to Gormer about Pearce and his operation.

“He sure did. And wrapped it all up in a pink bow.”