Monday, April 08, 2013

Installment 17 of F. Scott Sinclair's Novel "The Walls Have Ears: A Novel of America"

Installment 17 of F. Scott Sinclair's Novel "The Walls Have Ears: A Novel of America"


Warning: If you are easily shocked with regard to
contrary points of view, conspiracy theories, offensive
language, political correctness, sex, or anything else
that may offend your sensibilities or lack of open-mindedness,
or if you're a minor (but by no means limited to the
aforementioned), please do not read this novel. It's not
for you...

Note: This is a work of fiction. The events described
here are imaginary: the settings, events and characters
are fictitious, and/or are the product of the author's
imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to actual events or locales or persons (living or dead)
is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2007 by F. Scott Sinclair. All Rights Reserved.

Scene Seventeen of the serialization of “The Walls Have Ears: A Novel of America”

By F. Scott Sinclair

President Adolf S. Steinhart

It was getting warm in the Oval Office in the heat of argument
during our daily national security briefing put on by my chief
NSC adviser, Peter Higgins.

“Your buddy in Venezuela has our balls in a vise, sir.”

I sat straight up, and said, “What are you trying to say,
Peter? Out with it...!”

“Mr. President, I’m not trying to tell you anything. The
damn handwriting’s on the wall. President Sanchez is
shipping our captured CIA agents to parts unknown. But
our HUMIT Intel on the ground has been able to penetrate
their inner circle, and it’s rumored that at least two or three
case officers are en route to The Hague.”

“Jesus H. Christ...! The Hague? What’s he think he’s doing,
putting me on trial?”

Peter’s brow was well-worn, the grooves of responsibility
showed like bones of a filleted fish being discarded into the
dumpster, as he says hesitantly, “That’s exactly what he’s
trying to do. Rumor has it, you’ll be put on trial in absentia,
Mr. President.”

“So what’s the infamous CIA doing about their blunder?”

“Blunder...?” Jason Carpenter, his assistant asked, sitting
on the edge of the couch as though he were about to attack
yours truly.

“Yes, blunder... If it wasn't for those morons bungling of
the Iraq Intel, I wouldn't be in the mess I’m being accused of.”

Peter says, “The WMD’s?”

“More or less... Probably more, according to the latest
news accounts I’m privy to.”

“I thought you didn't read newspapers, Mr. President?”

With a twinkle emerging behind my stern veneer, I asked,
“Perhaps that’s why you’re still Peter’s assistant. Do you
believe everything you read in the papers?”

Still stinging from the rebuke, Peter’s assistant says,
“No, sir. I didn't mean—“

“I know precisely what you meant. You’re dismissed.”

I felt the tension in the air as Jason closed the door.

Fidgeting on the couch, Peter had something on his
mind. As he toyed with the ice water in his right hand, he
finally mustered-up enough courage to say what was
on his mind, “So, you’re calling us a bunch morons?”

With a sinister smirk, I said, “Now you know how I feel
when folks from all walks of life insult my mentality.”

“True, sir. I mean, I understand where you’re coming from,
Mr. President. Insults put aside, I must brief you as to the
direction the CIA is going on this.”

“I’m all ears...”

I saw Peter’s Adam’s apple gulp, as he said, “Well,
I’ve been advised that they’re going to take a wait and see
attitude on the matter.”

I chuckled inwardly, trying to hide my dismay, and said,
“Great. Just great... Any imbecile can do that. A moron can
at least make an effort to give me some idea of the direction
they’ll be taking. But no, your so-called rocket scientists
haven’t even got the common sense of a moron.”

Peter raised his hand like a fifth grader, and says, “But—“

“But—but...I’ve had enough—buts—for one day. But I’ll
say this one time, so you’d better take this down pronto:
word for word, my friend. Tomorrow morning you’d better
have some answers. I want to know exactly what’s going on,
and what attempts are being made to intercept them before
they reach The Hague.”

Rubbing his forearms as though he was anxiety stricken,
he says, “I do have a few details, Mr. President.”

“Holding out on me again, huh? You know that makes
me mad, Peter. Don’t you...?”

With his tail literally between his legs, and a noticeably
dry mouth dangling from the hinges of his jaws, he says,
“Okay, Mr. President, I didn't want to worry you at this
juncture, but you’re pushing me into a corner.”

“Am I...?”

“Um. Yeah, you are... But have it your way, sir. The
skinny on this is that President Sanchez has leased ten 747’s
from different countries in order to prevent us from
discovering which airline they’re transporting our agents
to The Hague on. Even if we discover which airliner they’re
on, we’ll have a helluva price to pay if we attack one of our
allies planes. We could ask permission, but they’re unlikely to
give us the go ahead. And before you ask the question, I
want you to know that all of the planes are in Venezuela as 
we speak. The commercial carrier pilots have been removed 
and replaced by Venezuelan pilots. The pilots will accompany 
their planes to The Hague in a hostage capacity, then they’ll 
be freed and allowed to fly their planes back home if everything 
turns out alright. So putting pressure on our allies is out the window.”

Seeing the options staring me in the face, I became flushed at 
the implications of the situation that faced me; especially when 
I found out that the information had been hidden from me. Knowing 
that President Humberto Sanchez, my eternal enemy, had placed 
me in an awkward and precarious set of circumstances, I asked, 
“Are you sure that our agents will be on one of those planes?”

“I wish I could say that with all certainty. But I’m not at
all that certain, Mr. President. Since the cat’s out of the bag,
I guess you won’t have to wait until tomorrow morning for
the answers to your questions, sir. This is what we propose to do...”

“And what’s that?” I said, listening intently, trying to
put my best foot forward....


A Book Review by Harrison K. of -- Karmic Rendition: A Novel of Pancho Villa Avenged - 
F. Scott's latest published novel. He hopes you enjoy it as much
as he enjoyed writing it. The following two books are available
at: bangkokbooks.com, Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble (Nook),
Sony (& Political Instincts)KoboSmashwords and other fine 
stores & affiliates.

Here are a couple of excellent previews of the following novels for your 
reading pleasure. If you like "The Walls Have Ears: A Novel 
of America"--perhaps you might enjoy these books penned 
by F. Scott. Thank you so much for your time and consideration.

Karmic Rendition: A Novel of Pancho Villa Avenged - Scott Sinclair - Google Books. 

Al-Ahram Weekly | People | Limelight: Bourne to be a classic

A tribute to the world's best thriller writer: Robert Ludlum with a
quote or two from novelist F. Scott Sinclair in the process.