"Well?" asked Higgins.
"The President himself wants to have a little chat with me."
* * * * *
Friday, January 22
The White House
Only the President, Musgrave and Henry Kennedy were there to meet Scott. They did not want to overwhelm him, merely garner his cooperation. Scott rushed by cab to the White House from Nation- al Airport, and used the Press Gate even though he had an ap- pointment with The Man. He could have used the Visitor's En- trance. Scott was whisked by White House aides through a "Private" door in the press room to the surprise of the regular pool reporters who wondered who dared to so underdress. Defi- nitely not from Washington.
Scott was running on short notice, so he was only wearing his work clothes: torn blue jeans, a sweatshirt from the nude beach he and Sonja had visited and Reeboks that needed a wash. January was unusually warm, so he got away with wearing his denim jacket filled with a decade of patches reflecting Scott's evolving political and social attitudes. He was going to have to bring a change of clothes to the office from now on.
Before he had a chance to apologize for his appearance, at least he was able to shave the three day old stubble on the train, the President apologized for the suddenness and hoped it wasn't too much of an inconvenience. Kennedy and Musgrave kept their smirks to themselves, knowing full well from the very complete dossier on Scott Mason, that he was having a significant intimate rela- tionship with one Sonja Lindstrom, here in Washington. Very convenient was more like it, they thought.
The President sat Scott down on the Queen Anne and complimented him on his series of articles on computer crime. He said that Scott was doing a fine job awakening the public to the problem, and that more people should care, and how brave he was to jump in front of flying bullets, and on and on and on. Due to Henry and Phil's political savvy and professional discipline, neither of their faces showed that they both wanted to throw up on the spot. This was worse than kissing babies to get elected. But the President of the United States wanted a secret favor from a journalist, so some softening, some schmoozing was in order.
"Well, let me get right to the point," the President said a half hour later after two cups of coffee and endless small talk with Scott. He, too, had wondered what the President wanted so much that the extended foreplay was necessary. "I understand Scott, that you have developed quite a rapport with this Spook fellow." He held up a copy of the New York paper headlines blaring:
Computer Terrorism - Exclusive.