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Back Resurrection Save as PDF
Chapters (81)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Contents
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. Glossary
  78. Dramatis Personae
  79. Keep Reading …
  80. The Skulduggery Pleasant series
  81. About the Publisher

Wilkes licked his lips. “If … if I felt you were wrong, I would of course make it known.”

“But you haven’t yet.”

“No, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because … because you haven’t been wrong yet.”

“Then how can I have just had the worst week of my presidency?” Flanery asked, leaning forward. “How can I have had a week so bad that I have to do a live interview to restore the public’s trust in me?” Once he felt that Wilkes was suitably diminished, Flanery turned back to Conlon. “What about you? Are you a spineless yes-man like Wilkes?”

Conlon didn’t move his eyes away from Flanery’s. “No, sir. I am not.”

“Then pretend for a moment that you’re not working for my administration,” Flanery said. “Pretend you’d been brought in to CNN as an analyst. After having seen the week I’ve had, what would your opinion be?”

Conlon wasted a moment looking pensive. “I would say the Flanery White House has made a series of missteps.”

“For example?”

“The, uh, the singling out of the journalist at the press conference,” Conlon said. “The revelations about your academic achievements in college. The alleged funding impropriety at the Foundation.”

Flanery sat back. “So this is my fault.”

“No, sir, that’s not what I said.”

“Yes, it is. You said my White House has made missteps, but what you mean is that I am making the missteps. Is that right? Am I understanding that right?”

“Mr President, the extra scrutiny that comes with—”

“Answer the question.”

Conlon chewed his bottom lip.

“Answer!” Flanery exploded, thumping his fist on to the table between them. “You’re wasting my time! Why does everyone waste my time? I ask a question and I expect an answer immediately! Let me tell you something, Mr Conlon. If you were better at your job, if you really were worth the money we’re paying you, my approval ratings wouldn’t be down. This past week is your fault. You didn’t spin when you should’ve spun. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but it sure as hell hasn’t been your job.”

“Mr President—”

“Shut up. You know what? I can’t stand the sight of you. You’re fired.”

Conlon paled. “What?”

“You heard me. Get out. Get the hell out.”

Conlon looked at Wilkes, who didn’t respond. Then he got up, buttoned his jacket and walked out of the room.

Flanery watched Wilkes. “We’re going to need a new whatever-the-hell-he-was.”

Wilkes nodded. “I’ll have a list for you the moment you come off the air.”

“The funding thing could hurt me. Fix it. Use the witch.”

Doubt flickered across Wilkes’s eyes. “Sir, using Magenta on a journalist … We agreed that might not be the wisest course of action.”