Washington At The End of the Day: Washington At The End of the Day, #1

By Grover Flintridge

Everyone loves a good political thriller and Washington At The End of the Day is a good one. While Washington at the End of the Day isn't a total blow out like 7 Days in May or The Parallax View, it will keep you pinned to your seat and at the end of the day you will be screaming for more. WAEOD as we affectionately call it around here is government run amuck with a few good men trying to keep it between the ditches. You will find treachery, schemes, skullduggery, conspiracy, and Washington DC naughtiness at it's most frightful. You will pick your heroes and your villians and delight in their rise and or fall. Washington At The End of the Day is thriller genre superb. Come and be a part of it. Throw your hat into the ring! Be a scandal!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grover Flintridge
• Release date: Aug 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223585114

Book preview

Men with the muckrake are often indispensable to the well-being of society, but only if they know when to stop raking the muck, and to look upward to the celestial crown above them.

-Teddy Roosevelt

Chapter One

What the fuh...

Vice president Hammond, hunched over in a decidedly uncomfortable straight back chair which was undoubtedly a historical relic, flipped through the New York Morning Edition, coming back to the bad news on the front page which he always saved for last. There it was. Tom Barns, self styled media mogul with a microphone and a cheesy website overnight said he had evidence that the newly minted president had, during the recent campaign, secretly flown to St. Petersburg Russia with members of his staff to party with Russian call girls.

Hastily looking up he saw the president sitting behind his desk, phone to his ear, wag his free finger and then point to the wall where resided a wooden placard which read, No Cussing.

Both he and the president along with most of the staff were prolific cursers and McClane said he was going to nip it in the bud. He said the last thing they needed was the hypocrite foul mouthed damned press riding them for what they excelled at so to hell with them and all their editors. No more cussing.

The president whammed the old style corded phone down in the cradle.

Barns is at it again, said Hammond shaking his head with disgust. Says we slipped out of the country and had sex with the Russians. Says he has proof.

I don’t recall that. said president McClane. Put Pops on it. We got bigger fish to fry. That was DNI Criester. The blackout in Phoenix this morning wasn’t lightning. It was man caused, and it could have been worse. Tell Pops to set up a meeting with whatever cabinet we have in town in the war room for 9AM and to Skype the rest.

The vice president stood up hastily, making for the door. Of course the White House didn’t use Skype. Pops would know what to do about that. Glancing at the wall clock by the door it was 7.31AM.

McClane watched the vice president exit. A good man, he thought for the thousandth time. His phone rang softly. It was his personal secretary. His wife calling. Put her on, he said.

What’s up Betty? he asked.

Betty Mildrep McClane and the president had been hometown sweethearts and had gotten married in 1972 while he was on leave during his first tour of duty aboard a submarine.

After she had inquired to his health, state of mind, and the usual chit chat they carried on she said, Jewel (Goldy Jewel" Hammond) and I are going shopping after the stores open. We’ll stop somewhere for lunch. Is that OK?’

Fine with me hon, he said. Just be sure to notify the man on duty. Takes time to set up shopping trips now you know.

I know, she said. Just checking with you first.

Well, you and Jewel have all the fun. Let me know when you get back. OK?

He got his answer and hung up the phone. It was a plus that the vice president’s wife got along with the president’s wife so well. This was another thing he was grateful for. The country he could handle but women in his personal orbit was questionable.

President McClane leaned back in his chair, holding his breath. The phone did not ring. Leaning forward he grabbed the remote and clicked on the Fox box. (There were eight video in video boxes.) They had been reporting off and on about the lights out in Phoenix all morning. After a few moments he cut the sound back down. They hadn’t gotten onto the terrorist angle yet. Good.

The phone rang. It was the vice president.

Mr. President. Pops informs me that all of the principals are being notified and he’ll get back when he has a count on who’s available.

"That’s good work Norland. Looks