Read Online Line of Succession: A Thriller by William Tyree - Free Book Online Page A

didn’t mind. Mrs. Tenningclaus reminded Speers of his late mother, who had passed from heart disease during the President’s first term. Plus, he was often rewarded with Ms. Tenningclaus’ homemade blueberry scones and strawberry jam. He loved the look on her face when he told her it was the best damn jam in D.C.
    “ Consider it done,” Speers told her just as his call waiting flashed. He bid Ms. Tenningclaus good luck and switched to the other line, where Carver began complaining immediately.
    “ I’ve been trying to get through for an hour,” Carver said.
    “ Just got off the plane,” Speers explained. “On my way to see Congressman Bailey now.”
    “ Hold it. You’re not actually going to come right out and ask him about Lieutenant Flynn, are you?”
    “ You know your problem, Carver? You’re a cynic. You assume everyone’s dirty. There may be a perfectly good reason that Lieutenant Flynn called the Speaker of the House.”
    Carver couldn’t believe his ears. “Oh, like what? Are they both members of the Capitol City Men’s Chorus?”
    “ Think about it. The Lieutenant had obviously networked way above his pay grade. Doesn’t happen by accident. Maybe he was being blackmailed. Bailey’s the Chairman of the House Intelligence Committee. Maybe the Lieutenant was reaching out for support.”
    “ You’ve got a vivid imagination,” Carver said. “I guess that’s why you’re in the Executive Branch.”
    The rental car’s nav system cut in: “Exit in one quarter-mile.”
    “ Listen,” Carver said. “The reason I called. The Lieutenant never existed, okay? You never saw him. We never talked to anyone about him. Got it?”
    Speers was quiet for a moment. “If you say so. You’ll tell me what happened at some point, right?”
    “ No, Julian.”
    “ I’m the Chief of Staff. Don’t forget that. I could order you to tell me.”
    “ For your own sake, no. Now go have a nice chat with the Congressman.”

Lee Federal Correctional Facility
    Lee, Virginia
     
    Carver passed through the metal detector and gathered his watch, phone, SIG, ammo, money clip and belt from a plastic bucket. This was his first time in a federal prison. A tall, portly guard stood behind him, grinning as he watched Carver struggle to slip back into his black oxfords.
    “ Might help if you untied the shoelaces,” the guard cracked.
    “ Shut it,” Carver said.
    Meagan O’Keefe came through next, pulling on her brown penny loafers. The humidity from last night’s rain had shortened her long strawberry-blond curls to tight, shoulder-length coils.
    “ I raced the whole way here,” O’Keefe said, a little out of breath. She wiped her sweaty hands on her pantsuit. “Suicide job threw himself in front of the Blue Line.”
    The guard motioned for them to follow him down the hallway.
    “ Death by subway,” Carver pondered. “Not a bad way to go. Quick. A sure thing.”
    O’Keefe scrunched up her face. “Messy. Gimmie pills any day.”
    “ No. Too painful. Not decisive enough.”
    “ Exactly my point. It’s that moment just as you decide to do it when you wish you hadn’t. Or at least that’s what they say.”
    Carver smiled. “I enjoy our banter.”
    The guard led them past several cells with bored-looking inmates in orange jumpsuits.
    “ Who’s the convict?” O’Keefe said.
    “ Nico Gold,” Carver said with dread. “Serving twenty years for grand larceny. He wrote a program that lifted small, nearly undetectable sums out of millions of foreign bank accounts.”
    “ Sounds like a hacker. You said we needed a linguist.”
    “ Hacking’s just a lucrative sideline. Languages are his passion. That program he wrote? It worked in twelve languages, including Russian, Hebrew, Hungarian and Arabic. He cracked the World Bank and the IMF.”
    “ Maybe he can fix my credit score.”
     
    The guard opened a second set of gates and led them to a white door with a four-by-four inch opening. The guard filled it first