“Private investigators, sir. We have to maintain confidences.”
“Just as we are with you,” added Michelle.
“So if it’s not that simple, can you enlighten us?” asked Sean.
“Why?”
“We have to know the big picture if we’re going to make a dent in this, Mr. President.”
Cole stared at him for a few seconds before leaning back against the couch. “As was mentioned in that stupid blog, the euros were going to purchase poppies for heroin production. Not really, of course, the poppies would never be used for drug making. At least not by us.”
“But you needed a way to launder the euros,” speculated Sean. “Before they got to their final destination.”
Cole nodded. “The purchased poppies would end up in a third party’s hands.”
“Let me guess,” said Sean. “An international arms dealer?”
“And then the weapons obtained in return for the poppies would make their way to Iran.”
“And what would the arms dealer do with the poppies?”
“I said the poppies would not be used by us for making heroin. I can’t speak for anyone else.”
“Permission to speak candidly, Mr. President?” said Sean.
“Considering you’re no longer in the Secret Service, you can speak candidly whenever you want.”
“Whoever came up with this plan needs to be fired, sir.”
“It’s idiotic,” added Michelle. “With so many ways it could go wrong. And did.”
Cole’s face flushed but then his anger quickly subsided. “I accepted the person’s resignation two days ago. Not that that matters. The buck stops with me. I authorized it. I own it.”
The room was quiet for a few seconds.
Cole said, “The blogger?”
“Out of the game,” said Sean. “He knew nothing about his source.”
“You believe him?”
“I can read fear in a man’s eyes,” said Sean. “He was clueless. Just looking for the next big scoop.”
“Do you have leads to the source?”
“Working on that right now.”
“If it came by email my people could work back to the source, but—”
“That tricky balance thing,” said Michelle. “Free speech, the Fourth Estate.”
“Right. A scandal is one thing. Perhaps survivable. Covering up the scandal is unforgivable.”
“Then let us do our thing, Mr. President,” said Sean.
“Can you find Sam Wingo?”
“I believe so.”