The next call Tom picked up was from Vice President O’Biden.
‘All systems go,’ the Vice President said before Tom could greet him.
‘And they’re going to use the clone on TV?’
‘Yeah, I’ve spoken to Eric and he said it won’t be difficult to talk the President round.’
‘Good. Where will we find Harry?’
‘In the back of his limo in the car park at the TV studio. They always send most of the Secret Service with the clone as a diversion so your men shouldn’t have too much trouble picking him up. You know this is all a waste of time though, don’t you?’
‘My boss thinks Harry knows more about the war in Jabronistan than he’s letting on.’
‘Your boss is a very intelligent man, but on occasion he can see intelligence in other people that just isn’t there. Harry knows nothing. He really is that dumb.’
‘I guess we’ll know for sure once we have him.’
‘I guess. Gotta go. Say hi to your boss for me.’
This time Tom was the one who got hung up on. To give himself the feeling of power that had temporarily disappeared, he found the number for Anna Indiana’s manager in his phonebook. Kenny answered before the end of the first ring.
‘Hello? Who’s this?’
‘How many times have I told you to save this number in your phone?’ Tom snapped. Kenny Roubini immediately knew who he was talking to.
‘I’m sorry–’
‘No you’re not, you fucking douchebag. If you’re sorry, you’d save this number so you’d know when you’re getting a call from someone who has the power to shoot your bald head from outer space with a laser cannon strapped to a fucking satellite. Got it?’
There was a pause, followed by Kenny’s reply. ‘Got it.’
‘Good. Now listen up: I need to create a distraction. What’s Anna Indiana doing today?’
‘We’ve got a gig at the Garden tonight.’
‘What time?’
‘About eight.’
‘That’s too late. I need something to happen before four o’clock.’
‘Well, she’s doing a live performance at Times Square about three o’clock, but–’
‘Perfect. But what?’
‘She needs to put in a good performance. We need to shift tickets for tonight or the Garden will be empty.’
‘I don’t give a shit. Make it happen. And save my fucking number.’
Tom hung up, with his feeling of power restored.
For full details on how to get your hands on a copy of One Day in Gitmo Nation, visit www.noagendanovels.com
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