Covert Warriors (Presidential Agent 7) - Page 123

[TEN]

Apartment 606

The Watergate Apartments

2639 I Street, N.W.

Washington, D.C.

1735 18 April 2007

???How the hell did you get in here?” Roscoe J. Danton demanded of Edgar Delchamps and David W. Yung when they walked into his kitchen. Danton and John David Parker were sitting at the kitchen table sharing a pizza.

“The door was open,” Delchamps said. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I locked that door very carefully,” Danton said.

“How they hanging, Porky?” Delchamps said, ignoring the challenge.

“What the hell do you want?” Danton demanded.

“Charley wants to talk to you,” Two-Gun Yung said.

“Then why doesn’t he call?”

“He said it would be better if Edgar and I were here when you had your little chat,” Yung said. “So we could clear up any misunderstandings that might come up.”

“Can I have a slice of that?” Delchamps asked as he reached for the pizza.

Yung took his CaseyBerry from his pocket, punched a number, and then handed the instrument to Danton.

“Leave it on speakerphone,” he ordered.

Danton held up the cell phone.

“Danton,” he said.

“My favorite journalist,” came Castillo’s voice from the speakerphone. “How are things in our nation’s capital?”

“What’s going on, Charley?”

“In the very near future—in the next couple of minutes, probably—you will get a telephone call from the White House. Unless they’ve already called?”

“The White House has not called. I expect them to.”

“Well, when they do, they’re going to ask you not to go on The Straight Poop with Andy McClarren . . .”

“That’s Straight Scoop,” Roscoe corrected him in a Pavlovian response.

“Forgive me. As I was saying, they are going to ask you not to go on Mr. McClarren’s widely viewed program tonight with the story of the attorney general ordering the movement of Félix Abrego from Florence ADMAX to the La Tuna facility. Or they are going to threaten you with all the terrible things they will do to you if you do.”

“How the hell do you know about that?”

“The question, Roscoe, is, who told you about it?”

“A confidential source,” Danton said, again responding in a Pavlovian reflex.

“First, Roscoe, we’ll deal with what you say when the White House calls. Handle it any way you want—enjoy yourself and make them grovel, whatever—but in the end you will agree that you will not go on The Straight Scoop tonight. Got that?”

Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Presidential Agent Thriller
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