Fall of Knight by Peter David Page A

solves the problem then,” he said sarcastically. “That small clarification is just going to do wonders for the way this will play in Paducah.”
    “I’m not concerned about how this will ‘play,’ Terrance. I’m concerned about the truth.”
    “And I’m concerned about all of it, Arthur. Are you actually suggesting that we go public with the entire story?”
    “Absent anyone innocent getting hurt by it, the truth is generally the preferable way in which to approach all matters,” Arthur said.
    Even Gwen looked uncertain at that notion. She reached over and took his hand. “Arthur, are you sure?” she said worriedly. “I mean, I know we discussed it, but—”
    “It seems to me the only option. I am, naturally, open to whatever other possibilities the president may have.”
    Stockwell drummed his fingers on the table. “Ron, you were a hell of a PR man before you became chief of staff. What’s your take on it?”
    “Some people will believe; some won’t,” Ron said. “Some will think it’s a desperate attempt to cover up something else; but there are enough others of a fanciful—dare I say it, faith-oriented—state of mind that they might accept the notion. Either way, at least it allows us to spin the story.”
    “Does it?” asked Stockwell, not sounding convinced. “Or does it just make us look like idiots? Look, we’re shooting in the dark here,” he continued, before Ron could respond. “If we’re seriously talking about going public with this, we have to run this by Mahoney.” When he saw Arthur’s quizzical look, he said by way of explanation, “Tyler Mahoney. My press secretary. He knows everyone in the White House press corps…how they think, how much they’ll swallow. If anyone can give us a reading of what we can expect, it’s him.” He tapped his intercom. “Terry. Get Tyler up here, would you?”
    The door promptly opened and Terry, the president’s aide walked in, looking extremely concerned. “That may not be possible at the moment, Mr. President. There’s a situation that’s just developed that Tyler’s dealing with.”
    “What sort of situation? Something involving us?”
    “No, sir. It’s David Jackson of the Daily News. He was in Tyler’s office, having a real shouting match with Tyler because the press conferences have been closed down, and he just collapsed.”
    “He who? Tyler or Jackson?”
    “Jackson. And there’s blood coming out his ears. They don’t know what it is. The medics are on their way.”
    “They won’t be needed,” Arthur said abruptly, standing. “Percival. Come with me. We’ll settle this right now.”
    Instantly, both Stockwell and Ron were on their feet, Ron instantly realizing what Arthur was intending, and Stockwell a few seconds behind him. “Arthur, we have to discuss this—!”
    “No, Ron. We do not. Gwen, remain here, please. I don’t need you being assaulted by reporters until we have a more controlled situation.” He threw open the door, and there were two Secret Service men just outside. “Stand aside,” he ordered, and they instantly did so. Percival had retrieved the Grail from the desk, and seconds later they were heading down the corridor, Ron bringing up the rear.
    Stockwell sagged back into his chair, rubbing his forehead and trying to control the dull roar that he was hearing. He could have ordered the Secret Service men to try and stop Arthur in his tracks, but the thought of a former president being manhandled was not one he wanted to entertain. To say nothing of the fact that he wasn’t certain Arthur and Percival together couldn’t fight their way past the agents, which was even less desirable.
    “God help me,” he muttered.
    “God help us all,” echoed Gwen, choosing not to dwell on the notion that if God did show up to help, He probably wouldn’t be able to get past White House security.
     
    R EPORTERS BEING THE type of creatures that they were, they were flocking from throughout the building