"We're not sure. An old manuscript was discovered last year and set for testing. One of the experts took a large payment. A local station is set to run the story tomorrow morning."
"Not anymore."
"Exactly."
The first term President stared at the Seal, the desk, the walls. These things had been his and he had done justice to them where he could, but this? It was beyond his control.
He hadn't quite believed it when he'd first been informed of the file known only as "DOC" (2) but it hadn't taken him long to understand how much the world would change if the public suspected the massive secret the Freemasons had been keeping all these years. The days of government rule would be long...
Ben drew him back to reality. "Mr. President, please."
Breaking into a sweat and not caring that he was ruining a very expensive suit, Carter stared at the small sea of white faces, now hearing heavy stomps above them which could only be agents in the Residence.
Ben, perhaps reading some of his thoughts, shook his head. "These men have no families to rescue, have been paid well in gold and passes - and all of them voted for you. No deserters here. You and your family will make it to NORAD, safe and sound."
Only slightly reassured, America's beloved President looked over what might be his last address with worry burning intensely in his heart. He glanced over the pages at the impatient Deputy Chief of Staff. "You'll start the sirens?"
Ben nodded again, both of them looking up as the ceiling lights changed to a pale red.
"Yes, as soon as you're on your way, now please, you have to go. D.C. is a direct target."
Carter still delayed, hating it that he was being rushed, wasn't being told everything. "What about air traffic and vital services?"
The Deputy's lined face went blank, and the President felt his heart leap at the tone that implied it didn't matter.
"They've been instructed to land them anywhere they can so Star Wars doesn't shoot anymore down by mistake. Last report said four confirmed crashes, two more suspected. Mr. President, we have to..."
"What about the vitals? Evacuations?"
Ben sighed in frustration, knowing the President would have his report before he did anything. The black man could be pushed, but it had to be gently. He was one of the few politicians of this generation that seemed to care about his people.
"The 'net is locked down; only our senior military have the codes needed to access it. As for EVACs, those on the lists are 35% recovered at this point. Ahead of schedule."