Read Online Blind Panic by Graham Masterton - Free Book Online

Cronin’s shoulder and eased himself down from the bed. “It’s a risk I’ll have to take. This meeting is a showdown about Russian criminal activities in the United States. We’ve been preparing our intelligence for three years at a cost of millions of dollars, and the only person who can face down Petrovsky is me.”
    “How are you going to face him down if you can’t even see him?”
    “I can wing it. If Doug Latterby stays close by, he can act as my guide dog.”
    The First Lady said, “David—darling—I’m begging you. Suppose you go to this meeting and you lose your sight forever?”
    “I ask young men to go to foreign countries on behalf of the United States of America, and to risk a whole lot more than their eyesight. This time, Marian, my country has to come first. And I can do it. You just watch me. I was electedas the Can-Do Man. ‘If anyone can, the Can-Do Man can.’”
    “If you don’t mind my saying so, Mr. President,” said Dr. Cronin, “you’re not only blind; you’re nuts.”
    The president turned and stared over Dr. Cronin’s right shoulder. “Just this once, Andrew, I’ll pretend that I’m deaf, too.”
    The president was waiting on the steps of the South Portico when President Petrovsky’s motorcade arrived. It was a warm afternoon, but the sky was gray and overcast, and it had just stopped raining, so the air was steamy and the limousine’s tires made a fat, wet sound on the asphalt.
    President David Perry was well over six feet tall, barrel-chested, with a large rough-hewn head and dense iron gray hair. His gray, deep-set eyes always seemed to be narrowed, as if he were trying to focus on something that was just a little too far away for him to see. This morning, of course, he could see nothing at all. He was heavily built, but he worked out with a Marine trainer every day, so his waist was taut, and he swung his arms when he walked.
    His wife Marian, standing close beside him on his left, was a petite woman with blonde-highlighted hair and a flat, pretty face that photographed well. This afternoon she was wearing a pink and white floral-patterned jacket and a pink skirt by her favorite designer, Peggy Jennings.
    Doug Latterby hovered only inches behind President Perry on his right. His long, big-nosed face was usually relaxed and genial, but as President Petrovsky climbed out of his limousine, his mouth became tightly puckered and his shoulders hunched with tension.
    “He’s walking up the steps now. He’s smiling at you. He’s holding out his hand. Raise your hand, extend it. More to the left. More to the left. That’s it.”
    President Perry grinned and said, “Welcome to the White House, Mr. President. I trust you had a comfortable journey. Sorry about the uninspiring weather. Not like thelast time Marian and I visited Moscow, and you put on that spectacular blizzard for us.”
    This was hurriedly and rather flatly translated, while President Petrovsky continued to smile and nod. He was a small man, with protuberant eyes. Marian Perry always called him Gollum.
    “I prefer warm,” Petrovsky replied through his interpreter. “And don’t they say that a little rain has to fall in everybody’s life?”
    After all of the formal introductions in the Diplomatic Reception Room, with President Perry’s dog, Sergeant, circling around and furiously slapping his tail against everybody’s legs, the president ushered Gyorgy Petrovsky along the corridor to the Oval Office. Marian Perry glanced at Doug Latterby as he gently nudged President Perry away from the wall, and Doug Latterby raised his eyebrows to show her that he was beginning to believe they could actually pull this off. After all, halfway through his second term, David Perry had been president long enough to be familiar with every turn along the way to the West Wing.
    They sat in the Oval Office with President Perry flanked on one side by Vice President Kenneth Moran, and by Doug Latterby on the other. Secretary of