A soft knock on the door and the bouncy voice of Judi Latham floated into the room, “Mr. President, your daughter is on line two.”
“Excuse me, Jim, I need to take this one,” President Marshall said simply and reached for the phone.
Jim just nodded and continued to let his eyes wander around the Oval Office, taking in the majesty of the place, marveling at the power that seemed to exude from its walls. It was as if the room had a life of its own, a power of its own
“Hi, honey. What did you find out?” the President said pensively into the phone.
Jim watched as the President’s brow furrowed and his lips pressed together in response to what his daughter said.
Some kind of family problem, Jim surmised. Funny he had never given much thought to a President having family problems. First Families were so secluded and their affairs so sanitized. Especially this one. This President played by the book and never let his family do anything he wouldn’t let himself or his staffers do. His ethical standards were extremely high and he enforced them with rigor on his family, staff and close acquaintances.
Jim didn’t know a lot about the President’s family, but did know that his only daughter, named Jane, was twenty-three, a recent graduate of Georgetown University with a major in journalism, a pretty petite blonde and jealously protected by the President from the limelight. Jane’s Secret Service detail was devoted to her and insulated her from the most mundane that life had to offer. Jim saw that as both good and bad.
“I’m sorry, Hon, no I don’t. Yes, of course. Don’t you have a copy? Oh, I see. I wish I could do something. Sure. Okay. Bye, baby.”
After hanging up the President made a visible effort to turn his thoughts from his daughter’s problem back to the events he was paid to handle. “Sorry, Jim, I guess I owe you an explanation.” The director didn’t see it that way, but before he could muster the courage to say so the President went on and he wasn’t about to interrupt the President. That would not be considered a good career move, even though he really didn’t want to know what the President’s daughter had gotten in to--it was better to not know some things in this city.
“My daughter has been writing a book. Sort of memoirs about her first four years of being the President’s daughter and the limelight associated with it. She was pretty much done with it and thought she even had a publisher interested, but she has lost the manuscript.”
Pretty dumb, Jim thought. How could you put yourself in a position to lose a whole manuscript? Didn’t she have a safe place to put it and why not keep copies or at least prior drafts. Dumb. He stopped editorializing to himself, as the President continued.
“For one, I can’t believe she didn’t keep a copy somewhere just in case or that the publisher didn’t keep a copy, but I guess the publisher never had it, just a synopsis and proposal. The whole thing was stored on her computer and now it’s gone. She isn’t sure what happened, one day it was there and the next day it wasn’t. She can’t find a trace of it anywhere on her computer. All her drafts and notes were in one directory and that directory is gone, too. She is devastated. Four years of work up in smoke. She could re-write it, but it would be an almost impossible task. She has had computer experts look at her computer since Saturday morning to no avail. The last one just left a few minutes ago. He says it may have been a virus. The whole computer seems to be acting up now, it barely even runs. I’m a little in the dark about computers myself, but I’ve used my influence to bring in some of the best computer people this town has to offer and it hasn’t helped a bit.”
Jim said nothing, but was thinking, he had kids too and they were getting old enough now that he rarely saw them, but on the rare occasion when one of them called for his advice or his help, he hated not to be able to help. He supposed Presidents of the United States were no different. Why should they be? he decided.
“Okay Jim what’s new in the world of National Security?”
Snapping his mind back to the room and the President, he responded cautiously, “Mr. President, before we begin might I suggest something?”
“What do you mean, Jim?”
“Well, sir, you mentioned a virus. It just so happens that recently my agency has hired some real computer hot shots. One in particular. He eats and sleeps computers and his expertise seems to be viruses. I know you have had the town’s best, but this guy is good. He’s only been with us a couple of months, but his supervisor says he is hot and if he can’t fix it there is no hope. I guess he has pulled some data off of computers everyone else thought to be a total loss. If you want, sir, I can have him take a look at it. Won’t hurt, from what you say it may be a lost cause, but if this guy can’t do it then I’m pretty sure it can’t be done.”
The President’s face brightened like a kid at Christmas. “Would you? I’d really appreciate that. I feel so inadequate. Jane doesn’t ask for much, but when she does I like to be able to help and I’ve failed miserably this time.”
Jim reached for the cellular phone attached to his left hip, held it up and said, “With your permission, Mr. President?” and began dialing, as the President nodded expectantly.
“Bob, this is Jim. I need a favor. What’s that new guy’s name? You know. The crypto/virus guy. Yeah, that’s him. Send him over to...” looking at the President and covering the cell phone with his right hand, he asked, “What’s the address, sir?”
“1402 Cherry Lane,” the President shot back.
“1402 Cherry Lane. Jane Marshall has a problem with her computer and needs some expert advice. Yes, that’s right, that Jane Marshall. Yeah, right away. She’ll be expecting him. Better give him some directions. He’s pretty new to the area and he might wander around town for a week if he gets lost. Yes. Right. Okay and thanks Bob. Sure you can spare him? Good, see you later this morning. Bye.”
Slapping the flip phone shut to discontinue the call, Jim turned to the President and said, “Thirty minutes, sir.”
Frank grabbed his desk phone and dialed a number. “Hi, Hon, you going to be around a while? Okay. Yes, well there’s another computer guy on the way over. I know, I know, but this one is from the NSA and he is supposed to be top drawer. Let him have a look. He’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Can’t hurt, can it? Sure, bye.”
“Excuse me, Jim, I need to take this one,” President Marshall said simply and reached for the phone.
Jim just nodded and continued to let his eyes wander around the Oval Office, taking in the majesty of the place, marveling at the power that seemed to exude from its walls. It was as if the room had a life of its own, a power of its own
“Hi, honey. What did you find out?” the President said pensively into the phone.
Jim watched as the President’s brow furrowed and his lips pressed together in response to what his daughter said.
Some kind of family problem, Jim surmised. Funny he had never given much thought to a President having family problems. First Families were so secluded and their affairs so sanitized. Especially this one. This President played by the book and never let his family do anything he wouldn’t let himself or his staffers do. His ethical standards were extremely high and he enforced them with rigor on his family, staff and close acquaintances.
Jim didn’t know a lot about the President’s family, but did know that his only daughter, named Jane, was twenty-three, a recent graduate of Georgetown University with a major in journalism, a pretty petite blonde and jealously protected by the President from the limelight. Jane’s Secret Service detail was devoted to her and insulated her from the most mundane that life had to offer. Jim saw that as both good and bad.
“I’m sorry, Hon, no I don’t. Yes, of course. Don’t you have a copy? Oh, I see. I wish I could do something. Sure. Okay. Bye, baby.”
After hanging up the President made a visible effort to turn his thoughts from his daughter’s problem back to the events he was paid to handle. “Sorry, Jim, I guess I owe you an explanation.” The director didn’t see it that way, but before he could muster the courage to say so the President went on and he wasn’t about to interrupt the President. That would not be considered a good career move, even though he really didn’t want to know what the President’s daughter had gotten in to--it was better to not know some things in this city.
“My daughter has been writing a book. Sort of memoirs about her first four years of being the President’s daughter and the limelight associated with it. She was pretty much done with it and thought she even had a publisher interested, but she has lost the manuscript.”
Pretty dumb, Jim thought. How could you put yourself in a position to lose a whole manuscript? Didn’t she have a safe place to put it and why not keep copies or at least prior drafts. Dumb. He stopped editorializing to himself, as the President continued.
“For one, I can’t believe she didn’t keep a copy somewhere just in case or that the publisher didn’t keep a copy, but I guess the publisher never had it, just a synopsis and proposal. The whole thing was stored on her computer and now it’s gone. She isn’t sure what happened, one day it was there and the next day it wasn’t. She can’t find a trace of it anywhere on her computer. All her drafts and notes were in one directory and that directory is gone, too. She is devastated. Four years of work up in smoke. She could re-write it, but it would be an almost impossible task. She has had computer experts look at her computer since Saturday morning to no avail. The last one just left a few minutes ago. He says it may have been a virus. The whole computer seems to be acting up now, it barely even runs. I’m a little in the dark about computers myself, but I’ve used my influence to bring in some of the best computer people this town has to offer and it hasn’t helped a bit.”
Jim said nothing, but was thinking, he had kids too and they were getting old enough now that he rarely saw them, but on the rare occasion when one of them called for his advice or his help, he hated not to be able to help. He supposed Presidents of the United States were no different. Why should they be? he decided.
“Okay Jim what’s new in the world of National Security?”
Snapping his mind back to the room and the President, he responded cautiously, “Mr. President, before we begin might I suggest something?”
“What do you mean, Jim?”
“Well, sir, you mentioned a virus. It just so happens that recently my agency has hired some real computer hot shots. One in particular. He eats and sleeps computers and his expertise seems to be viruses. I know you have had the town’s best, but this guy is good. He’s only been with us a couple of months, but his supervisor says he is hot and if he can’t fix it there is no hope. I guess he has pulled some data off of computers everyone else thought to be a total loss. If you want, sir, I can have him take a look at it. Won’t hurt, from what you say it may be a lost cause, but if this guy can’t do it then I’m pretty sure it can’t be done.”
The President’s face brightened like a kid at Christmas. “Would you? I’d really appreciate that. I feel so inadequate. Jane doesn’t ask for much, but when she does I like to be able to help and I’ve failed miserably this time.”
Jim reached for the cellular phone attached to his left hip, held it up and said, “With your permission, Mr. President?” and began dialing, as the President nodded expectantly.
“Bob, this is Jim. I need a favor. What’s that new guy’s name? You know. The crypto/virus guy. Yeah, that’s him. Send him over to...” looking at the President and covering the cell phone with his right hand, he asked, “What’s the address, sir?”
“1402 Cherry Lane,” the President shot back.
“1402 Cherry Lane. Jane Marshall has a problem with her computer and needs some expert advice. Yes, that’s right, that Jane Marshall. Yeah, right away. She’ll be expecting him. Better give him some directions. He’s pretty new to the area and he might wander around town for a week if he gets lost. Yes. Right. Okay and thanks Bob. Sure you can spare him? Good, see you later this morning. Bye.”
Slapping the flip phone shut to discontinue the call, Jim turned to the President and said, “Thirty minutes, sir.”
Frank grabbed his desk phone and dialed a number. “Hi, Hon, you going to be around a while? Okay. Yes, well there’s another computer guy on the way over. I know, I know, but this one is from the NSA and he is supposed to be top drawer. Let him have a look. He’ll be there in about thirty minutes. Can’t hurt, can it? Sure, bye.”
