the entire mission of the Secret Service, the SAC was responsible for overseeing all facets specifically related to the safety of the First Family. His walls were full of framed and autographed pictures of himself with presidents, world leaders, and members of various royal families. The SAC was in his midfifties and still physically fit. He chalked that up to a life without alcohol, living by Mormon principles, and good physical fitness habits he cultivated while playing high school and college basketball. He was clean-shaven and seemed especially proud of his full head of salt-and-pepper hair. He held every strand in place with some type of shiny styling product.
“Thank you for coming today, Agent Lemaire,” the SAC said with a calm and welcoming demeanor.
“Thank you for calling this meeting,” Cain replied. “I’m hopeful we can put this behind us so I can get off admin leave and come back to work.”
“I understand how difficult this last week has been for you,” the SAC said. “Quite frankly, it’s been challenging for all of us. You’ve done a great job protecting our nation’s leaders, Agent Lemaire. You’ve kept yourself in shape, you’ve been reliable, and you were honest during your polygraph exam yesterday.”
“Would you have expected anything less from me, sir?”
“No.” His hands came together under his chin, propped up by his elbows on the desk. “I don’t have a lot of time, so let me just cut to the chase. A proverbial line has been drawn in the sand. This has come straight from the director. Because you paid the prostitute—regardless of whether you had sex with her or not—you’re in hot water. It’s like the childhood game of Duck, Duck, Goose. Remember that game?”
“It’s been a while, but yes.”
“Well, you’re it. And the only way for you not to be it is for you to work with our internal affairs investigators and get confessions from the other agents. If I’m going to identify and extract this cancer from our organization, I’ve got to know how malignant and widespread it goes.”
Tomcat—you son of a bitch! What I wouldn’t do to roll back the clock and not pay that woman. I should throw your ass under the bus…
“Permission to speak freely?” Cain asked.
“Of course,” the SAC replied.
“Sir, if I did as you requested, I would never be trusted by my colleagues for the rest of my career. And as you know, trust is paramount in law enforcement. Nobody would ever work with me again, and I would be an outcast. I would be ineffective in my role to protect POTUS. I don’t think our Service is plagued with this cancer you speak of. I think it’s just a very few members who made some very poor decisions.”
“It’s more than a poor decision. They compromised national security! They had foreign nationals in the same room as US government devices.”
That’s quite a stretch, Cain thought. Besides, those devices were encrypted—set to erase themselves if the wrong password were entered three times.
“So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to play ball with us?” the SAC demanded. “My instructions from the top were clear, Agent Lemaire. If you’re not going to assist us, then you are allowed to resign.”
Hearing the demands—practically an ultimatum—from the SAC felt like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. Cain felt numb, but anger tingled deep inside his core.
“Assist you?” Cain asked. “That’s exactly what I did. My actions most likely prevented this from spiraling out of control. Had I not paid that woman”—Cain paused—“on behalf of the Secret Service, the police would have gotten involved and this would have likely resulted in arrests.”
“This is not personal,” the SAC continued. “It’s just business—a business that requires the highest levels of integrity, patriotism, and the trust of the American people and the officials we took an oath to protect with our very bodies, if necessary. There are already members of Congress trying to strip away our mission to protect the president and give it to the damn FBI!” The all-American SAC was starting to lose his patience.
“They always threaten that, sir.” Cain looked to LeRoy, who sat there without saying a word. Why don’t you say something instead of just sitting there? “Congress threatened it after Kennedy was killed, after Reagan was shot, and even after that couple crashed the White House dinner.”
The SAC stood and pounded his desk. “I offered you an opportunity to resign and keep your security clearance—and your honor! I swear—”