Book 3 Chapter 17
The Secret Service chefs planned a great meal while we were working in the gym basement, so we were well fed. After supper I played with the boys for a while and held Sara and Takeo.
I spent the evening in the living room with my family after the kids were in bed. It was finally quiet enough for us to talk about upcoming events. We were going to Deep Water Cay and Low Island for vacation for the last two weeks of February. On Low Island we wanted to see all the improvements that Marcy was paying for and to look at the two new rental units that had been built on the Cay.
The first Thursday of March we were going to Texas for another fundraiser for the party. I was applying pressure on the party chairman to find and fund quality candidates to run against the remaining liberals in the congressional race in two years.
When we returned from Texas, we were stopping at Cleveland, Tennessee. Jason had set up a wild hog hunt for all of us on property owned by Glenn Gibson. It would be the fifth time that Jason had hunted wild hogs there, the first four had been with Dad.
Glenn’s daughter Shannon had been shot in the terrorist attack at Warrington College. In discussions at the hospital the topics had turned to bootlegging and wild hogs in the area.
We were sending the four RVs that JBG owned along with the four that the GSA owned. Previous presidents had used the GSA supplied RVs for cross country campaigning. We were staying four days at the Gibson farm in the RVs. With the bootlegging, hog hunts and farming, Glenn had several acres turned into a full service RV park. We would be the only group there those four days.
Commercial wild hog hunts had turned to be as profitable as farming and bootlegging for Glenn. He was smart by continuing bootlegging and now was dumping some of the mash out to attract the wild hogs and limiting the commercial hunts to no more than one a week. He was still selling excess corn to the markets and the dried mash – eventually called brewers grains – to feed mills to be mixed with cattle, chicken and hog feeds.
The second week of March I was going back to Russia to celebrate another milestone in the disarmament treaty we had worked out for three days. President Orbatch was then coming to Washington to do the same for our end of it.
Marcy and our legal group had a dozen days in March and more in April scheduled to go to stockholders’ meetings of the companies she was looking to take over. Without a doubt, it was going to be a wild media month.
Saturday morning started off with tons of interruptions. The Secret Service was moving into the area in force. I learned they had twenty rooms in the Island Hilton. There was a steady stream of them coming and going with more than one meeting in the garage along with a steady parade for coffee and goodies from the kitchen.
Special Secret Service Agent Earle Gardner was over the Secret Service detachment assigned to Summers Road for the day shift today. He assigned an agent to be in the guard shack with the JBG guard, another to be inside the gym and another to act as elevator operator. That saved me from assigning more JBG to do the same thing.
I really wasn’t concerned until I looked out the window to see a 48 foot Coast Guard patrol boat tied up to our dock behind our boat. If I didn’t know any better, it was looking like it was going to be way longer than Wednesday before I was back at the White House.
Verizon was back at 0700 working on the bugs in the added phones. By 1000 they had everything fixed and working. I guess they needed the Saturday overtime to motivate them. They got a day’s overtime pay for working three hours. They did install several more wireless routers and wireless boosters in the basement.
Baltimore Office Supply was done by noon, taking care of loose ends. The temporary offices were ready for Monday. My mates met me at the refreshment center for a light lunch. After lunch we went to the gun club for a couple hours to practice with our Glocks; it was the first time I done any shooting in over a month. I was rusty with the first clip, putting rounds everywhere but where I wanted them, but quickly improved. By the end of the two hours I was back to putting the rounds in the center of the bulls eye as well as I always did.
It was a good thing the pistol range was indoors – it was getting colder and the wind was picking up, a storm was blowing in off the coast. We rode back to the office in the Beast and into the garage. When we were out of it the driver drove it back to the gym and into the garage where it was kept under lock and key and guarded.
The chefs were working on supper, but it was still a couple hours away. My mates went to take care of the kids and I went to the command center to get updates from the Pentagon group, NSA, and CIA. It would take an hour to go through all the intelligence. Troy followed with a handful of notes.
”You know you are off today and I’m sure there are plenty of ladies looking good in the gym,” I said.
”You are right! There are plenty of ladies over there but there is plenty of competition, every Secret Service agent not on duty is trying to impress all of them,” Troy said.
In the command center Troy was beside me and Vicky was taking notes for me. It was one of the things we forgot; I needed someone to take notes for the official record. Those people would not be here until Monday. I would have Connie transcribe Vicky’s notes into the official record.
Another thing that was forgotten was the White House media group. There needed to be a couple of them here, at least during the day. Where in the heck was I going to put them all? Oh well, I would deal with that on Monday.
Sunday morning the Secret Service chefs cooked a big breakfast. I started smelling fresh coffee percolating at 0500. Before they were finished Mom and Dad, Jason, Lisa, Troy, the foot ball carriers, about a dozen agents and my JBG security made their way to the kitchen for a plate and coffee, then showed up for breakfast.
With everyone going their different ways after breakfast, my mates and I spent the morning in the living room playing with the boys and Sara and Takeo.
The boys were into more games that were challenging now. They were past the building block things and tearing them down. They got plenty of those types of games for Christmas and we worked/played with them while they were learning.
The sets of square numbered and lettered blocks and toys were hand-me-downs to Sara and Takeo. It was a fun morning with the kids. A light lunch and then my mates and I were walking to my office to discuss some JBG business Marcy wanted to talk about.
I listened while she filled me in on the progress of things she was trying to do. I asked questions about an intended purchase in the Dutch Land. After she explained her intent and reasoning, I nodded OK.
Marcy had been more involved in the behind the scenes negations than I knew. While I was negotiating with the Russian politicians, Marcy and Jeanna had been having long talks with the industry people.
President Orbatch had brought representatives from the major Russian industries in case they were needed. Marcy and Jeanna were picking their brains on things needed to help bail the sinking ship and how they could make a profit in it.
Alik Radimir Sobol was the new head of the Russian Petrol industry and apparently a
likeable likable fellow as well as a womanizer, I gathered from the conversation. With both Jenna and Marcy getting heavily in the oil business, they had a full day of listening to his problems and what was needed to fix the problems.
I didn’t know it at the time, but that pair was negotiating a deal to supply several finished tanker loads of heating oil and gasoline from our refinery in Nigeria in the winter months until the Russian refineries could get production up.
A copy of the equipment Sobol needed and wanted was exchanged. Marcy wasn’t beyond being an equipment broker if she could make a profit. But then Marcy was looking for equipment for the Cameroon refineries.
I listened and asked a few questions on how the oil fields were producing but I should have realized they must have been doing better if they could sell ship loads to Russia.
I wondered why there hadn’t been any information on this from Frank or Eric. It was another question I needed to ask, surely there should have been some permits or reports that should have crossed my desk in exports.
Updates on the Jones Towers was next; they had finished driving pilings for first tower and the equipment had been moved to the second tower location. The basement tub for the first tower was in progress.
Then there were updates on the rest of the business ventures. The girls asked if there was any way I could help stack gold bars in the basement room for a couple nights. There were still a lot of crates in the secure hangar that had not been moved there yet.
”I should be able to do that,” I said.
For a while all the gold bars were being shipped directly to Pirates Bank. Marcy and whoever went with her to the board meetings brought back one thousand gold coins for us. The bars were being deposited to TSPBCIC account.
Andy was flying back from the Fort Dean operations center in the morning. He would be in Marcy’s office to cover a range of topics tomorrow. I would sit in on that meeting.
I had questions that needed answers. I wanted a different view on several things in Africa other than Frank’s. Just a double check to make sure I was getting told the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and not a watered down view.
An hour later we were in the gym working out. Three different Secret Service agents worked with me. They were all out of shape and swapped off when one became exhausted.
Kathryn came in at 1500 with Ty Deshields. Kathryn was a great workout partner on the mats; we worked together for two hours before we were too exhausted to continue. We had an audience of agents, Troy and several staff who were trying to find their way around those who were going to be here tomorrow.
While we were resting I found out another group of spooks was starting covert mission training next Wednesday. Ching Lee, Kathryn and Ty were the trainers for the group with a couple of Andy’s best people to help. Hell, I might be able to help after hours if I was still here.
At 1800 we went back to the house through the tunnel. Supper would be finished in thirty minutes, then I was going to the command center to check in with the agencies for the last time tonight.
My mates, the kids and I had a great evening again. When the little ones were in bed, time in the hot tub with them was wonderful – even if it did embarrass a few gawking agents.
Edit by Alfmeister
Proof read by Bob W.