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“And it wasn’t a brawl,” the Widow Alekseeva objected. “My Carlito and the others were defending my honor.”

“Excuse me?”

“What would you do, Madam Secretary,” the Widow Alekseeva demanded, “if some pimply-faced French pervert pointed his television camera at you and demanded that you show him your… you-know-whats? Wouldn’t you expect Mr. Cohen to defend your honor?”

The secretary of State considered the question for a long moment, and then, in the finest traditions of diplomacy, decided a reply could be put off until there was more time for consideration of the question and all its ramifications.

“Let me put a question to you,” she said instead. “The last time I spoke with the President, just a few moments ago, in a conference call in which DCI Lammelle, Generals Naylor and McNab, and DNI Ellsworth participated, the President had some interesting things to say. I recorded the conversation. Listen to it, please, Charley, and then tell me what you think I should do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

President Clendennen’s voice came over the loudspeaker:

“I told you all last night, after Belinda-Sue told me she and the First Mother-in-Law saw Roscoe J. Danton on Hockey Puck cavorting with a porn queen in Las Vegas, and I’m telling you for the last time now. Danton is supposed to be with Castillo and Castillo is supposed to be in Hungary getting ready to go to Somalia. I want to know where they are and what they’re doing and I want to know now. Unless I get a satisfactory answer within the hour, I shall have to presume what I have suspected all along, that there is a coup to drive me from office under way, and I will take appropriate action. By that I mean I will have you all arrested pending trial for high treason.”

Castillo didn’t say anything.

“Well, Charley?” Secretary Cohen asked finally.

“He does sound a little annoyed, doesn’t he? Not to mention paranoid?”

“He’s not kidding, Charley,” Cohen said. “There are four Secret Service agents in my outer office waiting for the order to arrest me.”

“Don’t worry, Charley,” another female voice bounced back from space. “Nobody’s going to arrest the secretary on my watch.”

“Hey, Brünnhilde,” Castillo replied. “How goes it? We could have used you here last night.”

“Why am I not surprised that you two are pals?” Secretary Cohen mused aloud.

“You didn’t need me,” Charlene Stevens replied. “Whoever that redhead was, she knows what she’s doing. I don’t think I could have thrown that clown so far myself.”

“She’s my fiancée, Charlene. Her name is Sweaty.”

“Actually, since I met my Carlito I’ve gotten a little out of shape,” the Widow Alekseeva said. “In my prime, I could have thrown that French pervert a lot farther.”

“Frank said you were a real looker,” Charlene said. “But he says that about everything in a skirt. I can’t wait to meet you.”

“You’ll have to come to our wedding,” Sweaty said.

“When and where?”

“There are four Secret Service agents in my outer office,” Secretary Cohen repeated. “What do I do about them?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea, Charley,” Charlene said, “what I’m going to do is pepper-spray them, then drag them into the ladies’ room, strip them down to their undershorts, and then handcuff them to that automatic flush sensor thing on the toilets. That should hold them until Frank can get You Know Who into a straitjacket and over to the Washington Psychiatric Institute.”

“Oh, my God!” Secretary Cohen moaned.

“That’d work, Charlene,” Charley said, “but before you do that, let’s see if the Joshua Ezekiel and Belinda-Sue Clendennen Presidential Library and Last Resting Place doesn’t take the Commander in Chief’s mind off throwing the secretary of State into the slam.”

“What?” Charlene asked, obviously confused.

“Now what the hell are you talking about, Charley?” Secretary Cohen asked.

Her use of the word “hell” was the third time in two years that she had used a term that could possibly be interpreted to be profane, vulgar, or indecent.

“Sweaty came up with this,” Charley said. “Everyone agrees it’s brilliant.”

And then he explained the Joshua Ezekiel and Belinda-Sue Clendennen Presidential Library and Last Resting Place to her.


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