Uriah

By Ohad Raz

David Lockhart is Potos, but he is also divorced and lonely. When he sets eyes on his next-door neighbor, he immediately falls in love. The problem is her husband. But the president is resourceful, smart, and madly in love. Will he abuse his power to get the woman he wants? Told through the eyes of his secret service agent, this gripping adaptation of the biblical story of King David will take you from the oval office to the hills of Colombia and through the mud with America's finest.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781984551207

Ohad Raz

Ohad raz always wanted to be a writer, so you could imagine his surprise when he found himself as a banker. Now at 44, and a father of five- he finally makes his dream come true and presents to you his maiden novel. He lives in Israel and still dreams big.

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Copyright © 2018 by Ohad Raz.

Library of Congress Control Number:        2018910431

ISBN:                Hardcover                    978-1-9845-5122-1

                         Softcover                     978-1-9845-5121-4

                         eBook                            978-1-9845-5120-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 08/31/2018

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CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER ONE

America slept.

Well, that was what they used to say when the President was tucked away into his presidential bed. He was America, and America slept.

In this case – America slept alone.

This has been true every night since this POTUS has taken office four months ago. His divorce became final three days before the general elections, just in time to cash in.

The reason for the divorce was given as mutual difference of opinions. Translated into real English it meant that the candidate had enough of his fornicating wife, who was trying to get into every set of pants in the DC area, now that she had covered North Carolina in the past eight years.

The governor faced the press, long face and all and claimed the he had probably neglected his wife, because he was married to his country and that parting ways would be better for all parties involved. At least it was good for him.

It made him look like a true patriot, suffering for his love of country. Women thought he had that sad puppy look, and women loved it. This might be the thing that had given him the edge over the Vice-President and elevated him to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

What the heck, he was the President and that was that. And the job of this agent was to guard him day and night. Now it was night. Since the President was a hard-worker, nights were extensions of working days, but he still had to sleep sometimes.

It should be considered a treat, to stand out here and look at the closed door. Better than running after a motorcade or securing a flesh-pressing rally. But it wasn’t. It was boring and tedious and he hated it. Every minute of it. Why can’t it be oh-six-thirty and the start of a new day on the job.

He was junior, that’s why Charlie had stuck him with night duty. He was the newest guy in the detail and that’s why he was standing here, buttoning and unbuttoning his jacket. Maybe he would pull out that crummy spy book he had tucked away and kill time. That’s a no-no word here – kill. Very sensitive, very touchy. Better say spend some time, much more politically correct.

Yo Nate, if you’re not reading that book of yours, could you toss it here?

Sure thing, Mike. Knock yourself out.

Secret Service agent Nathan Sawyer tossed the Daring Detective novel over to Agent Michael Burke and grabbed a chair. It was okay for one of the two to sit down. If Mike got the book, than he could have the chair. Just three more hours – and eleven minutes.

He rather liked REDHEAD; he was a good guy. Really worked for the country, tried to do his best. He didn’t vote for him, but not because he didn’t like him. He chose not to vote, so when the resident, whichever won the elections, asked if he voted for him (no that they were supposed to ask and that he was supposed to answer) he wouldn’t have to lie.

POTUS rose early, skimmed some papers, sports first, while having breakfast. He was at the Oval Office by seven thirty, tops, and didn’t leave until well after midnight. It was early in the term for political trips, so his chief of staff, Elliot Hudley, let him work. It looked good in the press. Press was supreme here. Everything was judged against it.

At least by Hudley. BULLPEN lived for politics. Ever since he was a cub reporter in DC, some thirty years ago. He was from Duke, just like the President and they met through the grapevine of alumni. He and the young congressman hit it off right away and they were inseparable since. He was the driving force that landed him here.

He was a bit obnoxious, but that was a given in his line of work. At least he didn’t see through the secret service agents. He said Hello and even remembered names, which was good in a White House personality. Not a common trait here.

Take SecState, for example. Ashley Woodworth III was every bit the snob his name promised he’d be. Nate remembered when Charlie Edwards, the head of detail, blocked him from entering the Oval Office because the President wanted to be alone with Hudley and said NO interruptions. He turned purple in a second and to hold on to an aide to hold his temper. Bet her hand was all blue and black after that. But that was DC for you.

SecDef, on the other hand, was the best there was. Lt. Gen. Abner Michaels (US Army, Ret.) was the coolest dude. Must have been a beach boy back then in California. Probably was very popular with the grunts, too. He was always high-fiveing everybody. Too good to be true. He was a real asset in the press. Unless the reporter was real anti-everything-in-uniform, he could sell them everything and they would believe him. Surfer-dude can’t be bluffing us, right?

He was definitely a good guy. There were all kinds here. The problem with his job was that he had to treat everybody just the same. A lot of yes, Sir and yes, ma’am around here. Can’t be caught off guard, no-siree! They might treat us like a flowerpot, but we shall never embarrass the service.

Not a bad life, though. You get to witness a lot of history being written. Something to tell the grandkids in fifty years time. Good for picking up chicks, too. Only he never has time for them. He’s either on the job or getting some much needed sleep. The only eligible bachelorottes he sets his eyes upon are residents or staffers. God forbid he would ever end up with one of those. Spooky!

It’s not as if he intends to stay in the service for long. He gave it three years, on the outside. Not a day more. After that, back to graduate school and life. Not that he let someone in the service hear this. He would be sifting through garbage cans right now if they knew. No place on the detail for an ambitionless guy. You really need to want to be here in order to be here. Kinda weird, but true.

He was starting his third year here. Just 349 days to go. He liked the job, but you got to have a life, right? POTUS liked him, maybe he would get to stay with him during the day, too.

There was only one big principal. No wife – although they prepared for her. Even got her a code name – ROCKER. Everything else would be borderline slander. If she dropped by, they would be ready. Fat chance of that. She was swinging her hips all over DC now, eyeing money now, not power. Started a golddigging career.

No kids, either. Probably didn’t want to ruin her hourglass figure. How did such a good guy ended with such a bimbo? She must have a good nose, just like Hudley. Placed her bet on a good stallion and is now collecting her earnings.

She was Miss North Carolina and he was the incumbent congressman for her district. They were wed within the year and posed for every national newspaper they could find. Sure, she was drop-dead gorgeous but a smart guy like that – he should have known better.

He remembered seeing a video of the couple at a fundraiser. Charlie had them watch it even before the elections, he wanted to know how the man moved, was he a glider or a jumper, how he approached people. In case he wins, they would be ready. Even then, he saw the woman ogling every passing stud. God help them if they had to watch her all the time. Good riddance!

They studied the Vice-President, of course. Good family man, churchgoer and all. One political wife, five nice kids and a pup. They were covering him for four years, but they reviewed everything from the top. Maybe they missed something, can’t take any chances. Pity he didn’t win, it would be more interesting than this long-day-in-the-office President.

But, on the other hand, it is hard to assassinate the President in the Oval Office. Securing a PTA meeting could have been hell. He worked on the periphery of the graduation ceremony of the former President’s youngest girl, a year and a half ago, when he was green. God, that was scary. Any minute he waited for someone to cry – gun! So many people and anyone could be a hit man. Or a hit woman.

Such were the life of a Secret Service agent, only worries. That’s why he would jump ship come the time. This life could make him silver-haired prematurely. He had seen it in his father, turned gray before he turned forty-five. He was a police officer, running their town’s police station and carrying all that weight around even when he was off-duty.

He was up for retirement now, though he would have liked to carry on. He was sure no one can do it better than Ol’ Captain Sawyer and maybe he was right. But he had to quit just the same. There were younger men down the ladder and he was blocking their way.

And then, there was mom to be considered. She supported him ever since he remembered and she was suffering from all the strain, too. She deserved a life, and a husband. The mayor asked him to be honorary deputy mayor and he accepted. This way, he would have something to do other than wandering around the house. Maybe he could fish, he was promising himself that forever. Who knows, he might even enjoy that.

He kinda missed life in Danville, Vermont. After getting that Ph.D., he would happily settle down in the Green Mountains State and raise a family. Only he would have to find a job and a wife to go boot, otherwise he might end up in some big ugly city somewhere. Maybe he can teach at the State University, up in Burlington. High schools were such dangerous places now, only higher education was worth teaching.

Damn, he missed Vermont. Even in this time of the year it was green. This state should be called the Evergreen State, even in summer it was beautiful. In a couple of months, it would be breathtaking, all those colorful leaves, just waiting to flutter down or fly away. Damn, he missed Vermont.

Much better than DC, any time of year. In the summer, it was hot and muggy. Winters were slightly better than those he grew up in, but that was no big difference. One frozen sidewalk was just like any other. And he wasn’t afraid of no winter. He preferred cold to hot. You can always put a coat on, but there was nothing you can do about boiling temperatures but turn on the air conditioning. And if you were with the President, you can’t even do that.

The man was from below the Mason-Dixon Line and he liked hot. That was crazy, how can someone like hot? At least he wasn’t from Texas or New Mexico, that would have been murderous. North Carolina wasn’t that bad, especially not too close to seafront, where humidity was soaking.

His brother once lived in New York and he only visited him during the bearable season, never in the summer. He now lived in Arizona, but that was desert heat, without the punishing humidity. Dick only moved there eight months ago and he hadn’t had a chance to visit yet. Maybe if he and Megan decided to tie the knot, then he would visit.

Five years of living in sin were bad enough. Dick was of the frivolous kind, not much of a church attendance for him. Not like his brother at all. Nate was a strong believer in the marriage institution and Dick said that this was the reason he was still single. Ha ha, but that wasn’t that. He was looking for Princess Charming, white horse and all. After this gig, he would try and find her. Certainly, no such divine creature resided around the beltway.

He was realistic enough to know that he was setting high standards, but that was okay. She was out there, and he would find her, come what may. It was in the great scheme of things and he was a believer. The aim was set for his thirtieth birthday, and that was over three years away. He had plenty of time.

Time! It was 0628 hours. Whoa! Time flies by when you’re having fun. Mike was just mere pages from finishing the damn novel. He could keep it.

Psst! Super sleuth, it’s time.

Sure is. Damn, I want to know who did it. It will have to wait until 0801 hours. Unless you want it back?

Nah, you keep it. Besides, the butler did it.

How do you know? What a spoiler.

Man, you’re thick. It’s always the butler. I didn’t even get to page fifty.

Come on, knock. That he did, and a minute later – the door opened.

President of The United States David Lockhart looked real groggy, but that’s how you look after just under five hours of sleep. He was wearing his old brown bathrobe and matching slippers. His red-brown hair was sticking out in various angles and his face needed a shave. He was already wearing his Good Morning America smile. A real pro.

Morning, guys. Anything I need to know?

No, sir. The world is at ease.

Just great, guys. Have a good one.

Yes, sir. The door clicked.

Married to the country, is he? Can’t stop the PR personality even for a minute. Even in this ungodly hour.

After that fornicating bitch, Mike, even the country looks good in the morning.

You Sunday school brat, listen to you. Well, at least I can finish the book.

He did finish it, at 0709, a good twenty seconds before the President came out. They immediately moved out.

REDHEAD on the move.

Charlie Edwards would relieve him in forty-five minutes, but until then, he would get to watch his country at work. The President went to work as if he was gone for just under seven minutes, not hours. Someone from Hudley’s staff had organized the mess on the desk and put everything in order, according to priorities set by the chief of staff.

Now, the hub was foreign affairs. The former governor had to show the world that he could find Papua New Guinea on the map and even talk passable French at the ambassador’s cocktail party. Domestic was relegated downwards, not to be mentioned before Christmas.

DIAMOND to see the boss.

Sir, SecTres is coming in.

Okay.

Former senator Anthony Winthrop rolled into the Oval Office. He actually walked, but he was so fat and clumsy, it looked he was a ship on the high seas. He liked his code name; it reminded him how his family made its fortune and the fact that he owned a MLB franchise. No that he did more than pitch the season opener, but it gave him the respect of lesser men. Lesser and leaner men, those who would jump him if he had the nerve to talk abut sports around them. As if the fact that he can’t see his shoes has anything to do with his knowledge of game stats and insights. That was a good investment, even if they never even reach eighty wins in a whole season. World Series tickets can go a long way in Washington.

Since SecTres was a member of the inner circle, and technically speaking, he was in charge of the secret service, both agents left the office and stood outside the door. It was only seven fifty-one, but Charlie Edwards was already there, together with Wynona Jennings. They were the day shift for POTUS, coming to relieve Nate and Mike.

Good morning, guys. Everything cool?

Yeah. Thanks for coming in early, I’m dead on my feet.

Sure thing, Nate. Slow day, anyway. Sitting down at the desk for most of it.

Right. He and fatso in there now.

Mike, you better watch your mouth. Otherwise, no promotion for you.

And I get to watch the paint dry, too?

Gee, and I thought you had no sense of humor. Go home, guys. Get some rest.

Yes, sir. On the way, sir. Going, sir.

Just get the hell out of here before I send you to do perimeter checks.

I’m gone.

So am I. Nightie night.

Bye Nate.

Charlie, Wynona.

God knows how is Charlie’s wife keeping up with this life style. On regular days, he was working eight-to-four, driving time not included. But on special occasions, and there were a lot of them,