Armis & Io
Chapter 23

Copyright© 2016 by Harry Carton

Washington, D.C.

It was four days after the discovery of President Ellis’ body, and the release of the suicide note wherein he confessed to the murder of President Maguire. The note said he couldn’t go on trying to govern when he had stolen the government. He hoped that his son would do better and called on God to bless the United States. The funeral was on the fourth day and he was to be buried in Ohio.

Before the plane took off for Columbus, the new President Ellis, the son of the old President Ellis, reentered the Vice President’s residence. His mother was still in the White House. The Secret Service examined the new President’s bedroom and left him alone to go to bed. He’d done virtually nothing in the days that he’d been President. The shock of his father’s suicide and the note found on his computer had left the young man understandably stunned.

He showered and was drying himself off as he walked back into his bedroom. He stopped short and lowered the towel from his shoulder to cover his crotch, because Armis was sitting on the chair near his bed and two armed men were pointing assault rifles at him.

Ellis: “Uh ... You going to kill me? Obviously, I can’t stop you.”

Armis: “Only if you make us. Don’t call for help and you’ll be fine. I just want to talk.”

Ellis: “You’re Armis, right? I’ve seen you on the comms ... Talk about what?”

Armis: “Yes, I’m Armis, and I want to give you some advice. You have just had a great personal shock. Your mother needs you now. You’re not prepared to be President at this point. I think you should resign and look after your personal issues.”

Ellis: “But I’m ... I mean ... who would take over?”

Armis was gobsmacked at this. He’d served in the House of Representatives prior to his elevation to the Vice Presidency! Didn’t he pay any attention to how the government worked?

But she spoke gently to the overwhelmed manchild. “The Speaker of the House of Representatives would take over. She even has Secret Service now. Dorothy Huston will be the next President.”

Ellis: “Can I put on some pants?”

Armis: “Of course. I won’t look.”

She turned her head. The young President grabbed a pair of chinos from his closet and struggled to get into them as fast as he could.

Okay, the young girl that was playing the role of Armis looked out of the side of her eyes. Chris Simpson was only 16 after all, and had never seen a naked man before. Well, outside of the porn movies on the ‘net.

Ellis: “Okay. Uhm ... About your suggestion. What do you think I should do first?”

Armis was surprised at his capitulation. Apparently, the young man wanted out.

Armis: “Well, let’s see. How about ... fire up your laptop and write a brief letter of resignation, citing the enormous personal shock of recent events, and how you mother needs your support now. That you’re sure the people will be in good hands. Keep it simple and don’t answer any questions.

“Make sure you contact the Speaker before you release it. Just so she won’t be surprised by the announcement. Then call in your Press Secretary and give him the letter.”

Ellis lowered his voice and spoke to Armis quietly. “Can you stay with me? I mean ... I’d like to get to know you better.”

Io to Armis: ‘I can’t believe this. He’s hitting on you?! Does he even know who you are?’

Armis to Ellis: “I’d like to stay, but I have too many other things to do. Maybe I can come and see you later.”


Dorothy Huston was in her car leaving the White House for her home in Georgetown. The White House session was a viewing of the dead President – it wasn’t a public viewing, considering his suicide and the note – and a brief meeting with the Chief of Staff to discuss how things were progressing in the government.

The comm unit in her pocket rang. It was the new President Ellis. She listened to his robotic statement that he was resigning because of the stunning death of his father, and his mother needed him now.

Huston was a 21 year veteran of the Washington wars. She could tell that the young man of the opposite party was over his head. Obviously, somebody had gotten to him, and convinced him. He was weak, he was vulnerable, and he had no advisors. She made sympathetic noises. After he disconnected, she told her driver to head back to the White House; the Secret Service agent who traveled with her notified the other agents in her team of the change.

She stormed into the Presidential mansion and grabbed the first person she found. “Get me the Chief of Staff and the Acting National Security Advisor. I’ll be ... in the Roosevelt Room.”

These were people who were not of her party, and not necessarily of her point of view. But she ignored that fact and counted on them to act for the United States. The two men found her and she started to explain what she’d been told by young Ellis. She motioned for her Secret Service detail to stay in the room, and their level of attentiveness went up a notch. First, if what she said was true, she was going to be the next POTUS. Second, if a protectee noticed the detail and wanted them close, there must be a reason – and in this case the reason was blatantly clear.

Soon the Press Secretary assigned to Ellis called them and read the resignation to them. He said the President would not take any questions and that this decision was final. It was to take effect at midnight tonight. The two men turned to the Speaker and the Chief of Staff said, “Well, it’s final. The First Lady – former First Lady – will leave with the body tonight. That’s scheduled for 11:00 p.m. I guess the current President will leave with them. As of midnight, you’re the President. We need a Federal Judge in here, tout de suite.

“Right,” said Huston. “I’m going to stay here tonight. One of the guest bedrooms, I guess. Let me make a call.”

She used her head comm unit to call her Chief of Staff, Martin Eaglethorpe. “Hello, Martin. Sorry to call you at home ... Cancel your plans for tonight and come to the White House immediately. Speak to no one. Absolutely no one ... uh ... Tell you wife there’s been a problem and you don’t know what it is – which is true, right?”

“Set up another guest bedroom,” she told the White House people. “Get somebody to the Press Room from 11:30 on. When the press want to know something, tell them that I’m aware of the situation, and on top of things. Maybe have them at the swearing in ceremony. Gawd what a mess! I’ll start ... um ... at 8:00 tomorrow morning. We’ll speak to the press at 9:00 ... Can I get some coffee?”

 
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