I glance absently around the oval
office, unconsciously tugging at my skirt. I have always hated wearing skirts,
and the fact that they practically a fashion staple in the 1960s makes my
undercover work just that much more uncomfortable.
A pad and pen are both carefully
balanced on my knee, as I anxiously wait for the president, his brother, and
Lyndon B. Johnson and J. Edgar Hoover to enter.
Focus, I tell myself. I will never
pick up on everything if I am distracted as I am.
The doorknob turns, and four
gentleman, all of whom hold significant power in the country, enter the
office that contained so much of our nation's history.
"I am telling you, Jack, this
new initiative will do all the more to help push your re-election next year,"
I hear Bobby Kennedy, the Attorney General, say.
"Mr. President, if I may
object, tracking down major crime lords and members of the Mafia will only put
an additional burden on the precinct captains in districts you need to carry in
order to be able to win in 64," Hoover objects.
"Gentleman," the president
turns to the three other men. "Let's have a seat and a cup of coffee
before we start to discuss the issues here".
The three other men eye each other,
then somewhat grudgingly sit down in the semi-circle of couches. The president
himself gradually lowers himself into his rocker, tailor-made especially for
his many back issues.
As if on que, Tory enters the room,
carrying a steaming pot of coffee along with five mugs. As she serves us, I
notice Johnson acutely studying my sister in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable.
"Miss," he speaks up in
his southern drawl. "What is your name".
"Victoria Thompson, sir,"
Victoria answers smoothly, not at all phased as she continues to pour the
coffee.
"Victoria, what is your view on
the Civil Rights movement?" Johnson prompts as he accepts a cup of coffee
from her.
"Well, I suppose it would be
nice for people of my kind to gain equal rights to vote and such, but all in
good time," Tory hands me a cup of coffee, and quickly takes her place at the back of the room, near where the President is sitting.
"You see, Mr. President,"
Lyndon turned back toward Jack, "Maybe we should be focusing our efforts
in the Civil Rights movement and not tracking down members of the mafia as your
brother here has proposed".
The President is thoughtful. Bobby is
scowling in Lyndon's direction and Hoover is smirking in an eerie display of
glee.
"Jack, as much as I would like to see the
civil rights movement achieve some success, you will lose most of the southern states in the
election with or without Johnson here on the ticket if you make the push too
soon," his brother counters.
Johnson glares in the Attorney
General's direction. Lyndon has an active dislike for both of the Kennedy
brothers. Yet if it is one thing I have learned so far here is that both Bobby
and Lyndon have it out for each other. One would probably not hesitate to arrange to kill the other, if they could make it untraceable that is.
"Gentlemen," a very
distinct Bostonian accent breaks in. "Like it or not the issue with the
crime lords is not why I requested your presence here this evening".
Bobby's eyebrows shoot up, and
Hoover and Johnson immediately shut up. Obviously this is bound to be something
new for all three of them.
Kennedy slowly withdraws a letter
from his suit jacket. I resist the urge to look over at the address, knowing I
would be too obvious. It is with some relief that I note Tory happens to have
positioned herself within reading distance of the envelope, without seeming to
be suspicious. On glance is all I need to tell me that her eyes are indeed
skimming the front.
"This here is from Mr. Khrushchev himself, with a personal offer of peace beginning with each of our respective sides de-mobilizing".
Bobby has immediately snatched the
letter from his brother's outstretched hand, not bothering to wait for him to
finish.
"If we can negotiate a treaty
with the Soviets, we can end these brewing hostilities between our two great
countries, along with the threat of potential total annihilation of mankind
itself with nuclear warheads".
"We don't need peace with communists!"
Hoover vehemently interjects. "Mr. President I have intelligence units
located here in our very country stationed to take down spies that want to ruin
our way of life!"
"Mr. President," Lyndon
has leaned forward in his seat in a much more rationally calm manor, eerie considering
his personality. "You must remember that the Senate will never approve any
type of treaty leading to a mutual surrender in this arms race we have locked ourselves
in. The only way anything will pass the Senate is if it results for greater
losses of arsenal for the USSR than for ourselves. You remember good and well
the Cuban missile crisis. We cannot trust the Soviets to do a dang thing when
it comes to disarmament".
I had been furiously writing notes
for the whole exchange, yet still trying to keep an eye out for body language and
mannerisms at the same time. The quick glances I have managed to snatch in between my note-taking have
told me that the President is not paying much attention at all to Johnson. Instead he is acutely studying his younger brother reading the letter, waiting
for some sort of response.
Bobby finally glanced up, making eye
contact with his big brother. "I think this is worth pursuing, providing
we can arrange for terms that can assure a mutual disbarment".
"Son, you have got to be
insane!"
Now there is the LBJ I have seen, I
think as I try to contain a smirk.
"Not so much insane as you are
to think a lopsided treaty is something the Soviets will really go for!"
Bobby retorts, jumping from the sofa and flaunting the letter at Lyndon's face.
Lyndon snatched the letter from his hands with a huff, sitting down next to
Hoover to read the letter with Hoover looking over his shoulder.
A side glance at the President
causes me to have to hide my amusement, as Kennedy has been casually sipping at
his coffee for the whole exchange. I get why he had to choose Johnson as a
running mate, but you had to have thick skin and a decent sense of humor set
aside as well in order to be able to work with Johnson to begin with.
As Johnson and hoover finish pursuing
the letter, the President finally speaks up, setting his mug of coffee down on
an oak side table.
"I also agree with my brother that
this is certainly something worth pursuing, regardless of the current terms. That
is why I have invited Khrushchev here on a White House visit at the beginning of
next month".
Johnson and Hoover both state at the
President with looks of disbelief written on their faces, while Bobby is smirking at them in triumph.
"Well," Hoover stands,
tossing the letter back to the president. "I do not see why Lyndon and I
were so desperately needed here if all you were planning to do was this to
begin with".
"Do what you want, Jack,"
Johnson adds with a snarl as he makes to join Hoover. "Just don't come
crying when you lose the election in '64 for your mistake".
As the two men storm out of the
room, Tory finally makes a move to clean up the discarded coffee cups while I stand and make my way out to the hall.
"Wait, Ms. Thompson," the
president interjects, following me out into the hall.
"Yes, sir?" I turn abruptly, turning too abruptly, and almost send us both crashing to the floor. He settles
his hand on my arm, and I try my best to ignore what implications the touch
could have and do my best to not cringe away.
"I want you to follow
them," his voice drops at a whisper. "I do not and cannot trust
the either of them. Report back to me with any suspicious activity they may be
involved in".
I nod quickly in understanding, and quickly
make a move towards the White House exit. I will
need to hurry to catch up least the two men get too far ahead of me.
