The 13: Fall Read Online Free PDF Page B

continued.
    “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Keene. I can assure you. I’m taking it seriously now. But do you even know how many letters like this the White House gets every day?”
    Keene didn’t answer. He did know.
    “Usually,” Grant continued, “these don’t even see the light of day. Someone sends them over to the FBI, and that’s that. If there’s a credible threat, I get a briefing and we move forward.”
    “But these did.” It was Taylor.
    “Yes, Ms. Taylor. But not because someone over at your agency thought they deserved special attention. These three letters”—he reached out and took them back—”never made it to any agency.”
    “I don’t understand,” Taylor said.
    “Four months ago, I came downstairs, as I always do, and met Chief of Staff Hardy in the hallway. As we always do, we walked to the Oval Office and I listened as he gave me a brief summary of the day’s events. Then, as is my routine, I went into the office, where I spend fifteen minutes every morning in prayer and reading my Bible. As I sat down at the desk, I noticed this”—he singled out the first envelope—”sitting in the middle of my desk.
    “Naturally, I flipped it open and read it. As you saw, it was a warning. I don’t know why, but I decided not to say anything then.”
    “With all due respect, sir,” Keene said, “that was irresponsible.”
    “I’m well aware of that, Mr. Keene.” The president’s glance was a warning. “Usually, the first thing I would do is call Lewis Hardy in here and begin asking questions. For some reason, one that I cannot explain right now, I didn’t feel the need to take it any further. I placed the letter inside my jacket pocket, and two minutes later my first appointment walked through the door.”
    “What about the others?” Taylor asked.
    “The second one came in the same way—I found it on my desk. One month later, to the day.”
    Keene raised his eyebrows and blew out a long, loud breath.
    Grant gave him a stern look. “I understand your disapproval. I will remind you again that you are here at my request. Please, let me finish.”
    Keene shifted his gaze and lowered his head.
    “Thank you,” the president continued. “All that matters at this point is this: I believed these letters to be of no threat. I kept them to myself because, well, whoever wrote them is right! This nation has lost its way. We are all but morally bankrupt as a nation. I kept them to myself to remind me that we—I—have work to do in this office.
    “I’m well aware of the path America is on. And this man is right. If something doesn’t change soon, we are no longer going to be the country that our forefathers bled and died for! I kept the letters as a reminder to me that we are all at God’s mercy. And I wanted to use them as motivation for me to help lead this country back to where it came from.”
    “So then …” Taylor began, waiting to see if she’d be barked at for speaking.
    The president nodded for her to continue.
    “So then … why not just send these over to the FBI? I’m sure Director Preston—”
    “Because,” the president interrupted, “last night changed everything.”
    Finally!
Keene thought. The president was coming to his senses.
    “As far as the nation is concerned,” Grant continued, “this goes no further than this office. Do you understand?”
    Keene was standing up to go. He was about to lose his mind. He wanted to be out the door five minutes ago, looking for this guy.
    “Let me finish what I want to tell you and the others, Mr. Keene, and I’ll gladly hear your thoughts and objections.”
    Keene forced himself back down into the chair and sat still.
    “Mr. Hamilton.” President Grant shifted to his friend. “Would you please …”
    The man flipped through the pages of the little book he had taken out earlier and began to read. “Behold, the day of the Lord comes, cruel, with wrath and fierce anger, to make the land a desolation and to