The Phone Rings At 3 A.M. [FICTOID]

The phone rang in the Oval Office.

The president, bleary eyed and unshaven, reached for the phone then hesitated.

Don’t look too eager, he thought.  

He waited until the third ring began then picked it up.  “Yes?”

“Emeralds,” said the adolescent voice on the other end.  “Emeralds, and lots of them.”

“What do you -- ?”

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The president scowled at the dead phone and hung up.  “Did you trace that call?”

“We’re trying,” said the FBI agent sitting where a corner should have been.

The president rubbed his face.  “What happens if we don’t pay?”

“Guerilla warfare,” said his advisor.  “Wave after wave of terrorist attacks -- a one / two punch we’ll never recover from.”

The phone rang again, startling the president.  He picked it up before the second ring.  “Yes?”

“Emeralds,” the adolescent voice repeated with a laugh.  “Millions and millions of dollar’s worth of emeralds!”

The FBI agent signaled for the president to keep talking so she could trace the call.

“How did you get this number?” the president asked.  “It’s a secure line.”

“Never mind how we got it, the fact is we got it.  Someone got careless, now we’re making our demands.”

“Well, what do you want?” the president asked, stalling for time and motioning for the FBI agent to hurry up.

“We want to liberate all sex traffic victims,” said the voice.  “We want the environment cleaned up.  We want an end to war.  We want free cable TV -- “

The FBI agent frantically signaled to the president.  “Mr. President!  Mr. President!  We traced the calls!  They’re coming from inside the White House!”

The president blinked then turned a mottled purple with rage.

”JUNIOR!!!” he roared.

© Buzz Dixon