Chapter Fifty Nine
Awakened by blaring sound from the TV, Zack blinked and saw on the screen an upbeat TV morning program showing giddy Labor Day New York visitors holding cardboard signs from Davenport, Poughkeepsie, Amarillo.
Zack glanced at his wristwatch—7:01 A.M.
His head pounding, he recalled the Mary dream. Same version, how many times? It’s the booze, fat chance.
A close-up of Senator Beno on the TV put him in the present. He sat up, increased the volume and watched TV morning show host, Pam West: “Good morning. In what might be the story of the millennium, I’m here with Senator Nancy Beno. She has a startling revelation about the events of the past two days and an audio recording of shocking import.”
West paused, touched a tiny ear prompter, listened for a moment then said, “I’m told by the producer that we have a breaking story. Let’s go to the news desk and Dee Dee Paulsen.”
Close-up of anchor Dee Dee: “Pam, we have just received information the President’s media guru, Dr. Barbara Lande, is dead. She was found in her submerged car in Rock Creek by police a short time ago. The accident was discovered earlier by a passing motorist. Paramedics and DC police pulled Dr. Lande’s body from the wreckage. An eyewitness said, ‘Lande looked a little pruney.’ More details as we receive them. Now back to you.”
Zack shook his head and flipped to another news channel, same Lande breaking news. He surfed TV anchors discussing the Lande accident and the upcoming historic address to the world by President Armstrong.
He wiped his face with his palm and clicked back to the morning TV show with West and Beno:
Close-up of host West speaking, “So, Senator Beno, let’s first play your recording. Then we’ll discuss the ramifications.”
The recording of Lande, Novak and MacCallister played. The words of the E.I.C. were superimposed as subtitles in white over a blue background.
The recording ended and the video switched to a close-up of West. “Where on earth did you get this amazing recording?”
“A journalist.”
There was a knock at the hotel door.
Zack swallowed a sudden choke of anxiety, “Who’s there?”
“Room service,” a thin voice mumbled.
Zack peered through the peephole. Looked like a server—young, freckled female, white jacket, tray. He said again, “Who’s there?”
“Room service.”
“I didn’t order room service.”
“New Doubletree thing, complimentary.”
“What ya got?”
“Coffee, cinnamon roll.”
He opened the door.
The young female nodded and whipped past him, put the serving tray on the little kitchen table and smiled.
“Thank you.” Zack gave her fifty cents.
She looked at the change in her palm and said, “Rough night?”
“Week.”
“You can say that again, brother.” She left.
Zack noted a BREAKING NEWS graphic on the TV. He pressed the sound up.
West announced, “We interrupt our interview with Senator Beno to go to Herb Abelard at the White House”
Herb, standing in front of White House: “Yes, Pam, we have just been told that President Armstrong has been visited by a select Congressional delegation from his political party and the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court . Sources say he was given two options, resign or be impeached. The President’s address to the world, scheduled for this morning, has been canceled, Herb Abelard reporting, back to you.”
Shot of West and Beno, West: “So, Senator Beno, it would appear your Presidential stock just went up a few points.”
Zack poured a cup of the complimentary coffee, ate the cinnamon roll and sipped, “Not bad.”