“That’s disgusting.”
“It’s sinister,” Candace said.
“I still don’t understand what that accomplishes.”
“Control. Russia resembles many nations in the world. There are entire towns not listed on our maps. And, there is always an agenda for expansion.”
“Expansion?”
“Yes.”
Jameson had heard Candace discuss her concerns for the Baltic States of the European Union for years. “Do you think Kapralov is going to make a move somewhere?”
“Sooner or later, if he can—he will.”
“Why starve his people? I don’t understand that.”
“Because he can.”
Jameson shuddered.
“Because if war or upheaval comes, those people will have only one side to choose,” Candace said.
“He’s evil.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Jameson’s voice raised slightly.
“Are people evil?” Candace asked rhetorically. “People are capable of committing the most horrific deeds imaginable.”
“Right—evil.”
“I wish it were that simple, Jameson.”
“You sound like you sympathize with him?”
“Do I? No. If it were that simple—if we could remove the evil person—kill them, lock them away—ship them to an island—would that stop atrocities from happening? Would it? Has it? Ever?”
“What are you going to do?” Jameson wondered.
“I don’t know. I do know I have to look at you when I make that decision. I have to look at Cooper the next day. Somehow, I have to be able to offer you hope. If evil is the cause, then I have no cure. I’m not ready to accept that.”
Jameson kissed Candace’s temple.
Candace began to speak. “I’m sorry that this transition has been—”
Jameson stopped Candace’s thought with a kiss. “It’s a transition. I don’t want you to worry about me when you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I need to worry about you, Jameson. I need to know all the things you’ve always told me. Don’t keep things from me to try and protect me. All those things are what remind me why we are here in this house. It’s never a burden. It’s my compass.”
Jameson smiled. “I think we’ll stay home.”
“Jameson—”
“Candace, listen to me. I do miss home. I miss Marianne and the kids. I miss Scott. I miss my folks. I’m not prepared to miss you for any longer than I have to. This is where I need to be right now. If you need me to go somewhere—I will. If you tell me you need some space to deal with things without distraction—”
“No,” Candace said. “At least, do this much for me?”
“Anything.”
“Ask Marianne to fly down for the weekend.”
“Are you sure you want me to do that?”
“Ask her. I have no idea when I will be free for the next few days. If you don’t want to go home—”
“I am home.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Bring home here?” Jameson guessed.
“Something like that, yes.”
“I’ll ask her.”
“Good.”
“I wish I could help,” Jameson mused.
“You do help. Don’t shut me out to protect me. We’ve never done that. Don’t start now.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
“Can I ask you for one thing?”
“Sure.”
“Try and get home earlier tomorrow.”
Candace chuckled. “Eager for a movie night?”
“I’d rather spend some time in prayer.”
Candace laughed. “I’ll make certain to let my staff know how important worship is to you.”
“You’ve never complained when I’ve dropped to my knees.”
“Jameson!”
Jameson sniggered.
“You are incorrigible,” Candace said.
“Thanks.”
“For calling you incorrigible?”
“No.”
Candace kissed Jameson sweetly. They’d endured many changes in their relationship. Living in the White House and all that came with it was proving to be a monumental feat. It would be easy to get lost in the magnitude of it all. That was not an option for Candace. Honesty and openness, silliness and intimacy were the cornerstones of more than the marriage Candace and Jameson shared; they were the foundation of Candace’s ability to lead. Jameson knew that. A gentle reminder to them both was overdue.
“I’ll be home earlier tomorrow,” Candace promised.
“Chinese food and Bible study?”
“That’s scandalous,” Candace teased.
“Never joke about food or worship.”
Candace’s laughter echoed through the bedroom. “You are a lunatic.”
“Probably. I seem to remember a fortune in one of those cookies of yours a while back.”
“What fortune is that?”
“The ones who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.”
Candace smiled. “Aren’t you supposed to add ‘in bed’ to that?”
Jameson replied with a kiss. “Not to that one,” she whispered.
“I love you, Jameson.”
“I love you. Don’t forget that.”
“Never.”
CHAPTER TWO
FRIDAY
“Laura,” Jameson called across her office.
“What’s up?”
Jameson studied a folder that was on her desk. “This program in West Virginia—”
“What program?”
“New Roads.”
“The felon re-entry program?”
“Yeah.”
“What about it?”
“What do you know about it?” Jameson inquired.
“Not much. Their director reached out through a friend of Scott’s. I haven’t done any research.”
Jameson pulled an informational brochure from the folder. “Find out some more.”
“JD?”
“I’m interested in what they’re doing.” Jameson heard a sigh escape her daughter-in-law’s lips. “What? Do you think my interest is a bad idea?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay. Tell me what you do know.”
“JD, New Roads gets funding from Family Values International.”
Jameson considered the information. FVI had helped to fund Candace’s opponents over many years. They claimed to be an evangelical group dedicated to restoring family values. The organization was one of many that took issue with both Candace’s political beliefs and her personal life. Jameson arched her brow and let her eyes roam over the brochure. “Find out more.”
“Are you thinking about taking this on—working with New Roads, I mean?”
“I’m not sure what this is yet. I’d like to find out. I can see the trepidation in your eyes. Let’s get some more information. Marianne and Scott will be here in a few hours. I’ll see what he’s heard about the program—if anything.”
“You do know that it’ll be controversial if you show an interest in working with this group.”
“My existence is controversial, Laura.”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“It can’t hurt to find out more.”
“You’re the boss,” Laura said.
“I don’t feel like the boss of anything these days.”
“I know it’s been a little bit nuts around here.”
“This is nothing compared to the other side of the building,” Jameson noted.
“Are you worried about Mom?”
“Not worried so much as aware.”
“Yeah, well, she’s worried about you too.”
“What? Did she say that?”
“She doesn’t need to say anything. She’s called me every day. I think she misses you.”
“She misses you.”
“I don’t know about tha
t.”
“I know. Don’t underestimate how much you mean to Candace,” Jameson said. “This move has been harder on her than she’ll admit. She misses Marianne and Shell and the kids. We both do. She also knows that you won’t call her.”
“She’s got enough to deal with,” Laura observed.
“Yeah. I know she does. I’ve tried to give her space too. Don’t. She knows why we’re all giving her space. But that distance is stressing her out more. She needs to feel some semblance of normal, Laura. Life here is surreal. The last thing she wants from us is to shield her from our lives.”
Laura nodded.
“Just call her. If she can take the call, she will.”
“Is that why Marianne is coming down?”
“No, that’s for me,” Jameson replied.
“JD, I hope you know that I’m not trying to stop you from pursuing whatever it is you feel serves your time and Mom’s agenda best.”
“I know that. Trust me; I don’t have any intention on stirring shark-infested waters. I’m also not going to dismiss a program that could use my help—not because it happens to get some money from an organization I find unsavory. Like it or not, even FVI sometimes helps people with its resources. See what you can learn. We’ll go from there.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to run for office?”
Jameson laughed. “When hell freezes over.”
***
Candace walked beside Joshua Tate down a long tunnel. “Every time we do this I think I’m in a movie.”
Tate laughed. “It does seem excessive.”
“It seems excessive or it is excessive?”
“Can’t say. I hope we never have to find out.”
Silence enveloped the pair as they strolled down the corridor toward a secure room. Candace wondered what people would think if they knew that Hollywood depictions of secret facilities paled by comparison to the real thing. It had shocked her. She still wasn’t certain if she found the existence of such places comforting, unnerving, or just plain wasteful. One thing she did know, she agreed with Joshua Tate’s assessment. She prayed that the reason for the construction of these facilities would never come to pass. They’d been utilized after the terrorist attack in 2001. Since then, places like this one in Virginia had been utilized for drills and the occasional sensitive meeting—meetings like the one she was about to begin. She took a deep breath when the door opened and stepped through. “Unreal,” she muttered.
“That, it is,” Tate agreed.
“This way, Madame President,” an Airman gestured ahead.
Candace smiled when she saw the occupants of the room stand to greet her. “Sit down,” she instructed them. “There’s enough formality in this place already.”
“Madame President,” Alex Toles greeted her friend.
“Please,” Candace dismissed the address. “Let’s dispatch with protocol.”
“Candace,” Alex corrected herself. “How is life in the big white house?”
“Well, I will confess that the laundry services are a bonus, and the food is excellent.”
“I’ll bet.”
“I wouldn’t say no to a week in the woods, though,” Candace offered.
“I can only imagine.”
“I’m sorry to wrangle you both away from work and drag you into the abyss,” Candace said.
“We weren’t doing anything anyway,” Claire Brackett commented.
“So, I’ve heard. Pushing papers lately?” Candace had kept close tabs on her favorite pair of agents at the FBI. She had learned quickly in her career that trust was a precious commodity. She’d received more reminders than she wanted to admit that the higher a person climbed on the political ladder, the more rare and valuable honesty and trust became.
“I’m not sure what that’s about,” Alex replied.
“I would suppose some of it can be attributed to me,” Candace said. “Cassidy’s connection to my campaign and my administration has hindered your standing at The Bureau,” Candace observed.
“Cassidy’s relationship and work with you have no bearing on what Claire and I do,” Alex said.
“No, not for you and Claire. It does for the upper echelon at the FBI. I am sorry about that. I know everyone likes to think that The Judicial Branch operates with full independence. It doesn’t. There are appointees. Appointments lead to caution and compromise. That’s reality. Politics permeates everything, even if I wish that were not the case.”
“That’s a fact,” Claire mumbled. Alex smacked her. “What?”
Candace chuckled. “Agent Brackett is correct. How would you like your hands untied?”
Alex held the president’s gaze.
“What we discussed before I took office—”
“You want me and Claire to get into the weeds at The Bureau? Find out who is pulling whose strings?”
“Partly. That’s an added benefit. It’s time,” Candace said. “To move on what we discussed previously.”
Alex sighed. “What happened?”
“What hasn’t happened?” Candace countered. “Alex, there is significant movement across the globe right now that we cannot ignore. For decades, we’ve allowed the public to believe that the threat of fascism was limited to certain corners—distant corners. All the while, we’ve witnessed a move toward genocide, oppression and persecution in countries we consider allies. Nationalism is on the rise. It’s taken a foothold everywhere. We can’t allow it to evolve into a sprint.”
“You’re worried about Kapralov,” Alex surmised.
“I’m worried about a lot of things. Russia is at the top of that long list. They have the means to pull a lot of strings—not the least of which is the world’s purse strings. I need people I trust—completely. At the moment, that list is painfully short.”
“What you’re asking—Candace, that world is dark. When I say dark, it’s pitch-black in some places.”
“I’m sure.”
“Look, the intelligence you get from your advisers—that will seem like reading a nursery rhyme when you see what Claire and I deliver. If you’re asking what I think you are asking, you have to be prepared for what it means,” Alex said.
Candace sucked in a long breath. “Is anyone prepared for this?” She gestured to their surroundings. “The entire reason for this meeting is preparation. I can’t be ready for what is ahead without reliable information. I don’t want a war, Alex. I also don’t want to watch dictators continue to rise and democracy pay the price for its hubris. There are things I wish I didn’t know—images I can’t banish from my thoughts at night. I’ve been in this job for two months. I’ve got at least four years left. There are a million things I want to accomplish. None of those things will be achieved if I don’t have facts. Someone will always attempt to undermine my efforts. It’s not only me that some corners seek to derail; it’s our way of life, our standing in the world, and our ability to safeguard our allies. I need to know that what I am told is truthful and accurate. I need you.”
Alex nodded. “I told you before—whatever you need, we’re in.”
“Good. Joshua will see that your hands are untied.”
“How?” Claire asked.
Tate grinned. “I have my ways, Brackett.”
Claire pursed her lips. “Tate! Is it me or did that sound slightly dirty?”
“Not everyone’s ways are your ways,” Alex commented to her partner. She was relieved when Candace laughed.
“Joshua has some information to get you started. Whatever you need—let me know. I’ll make sure you have it,” Candace promised.
“Candace?” Alex called for the president’s attention. “Be careful.”
Candace understood the warning. Years ago, another president had attempted to navigate the shadow world of international politics. He paid the ultimate price. “You too,” she replied to her friend.
Alex nodded. When Candace had left the room, she addressed her former boss. “Tate, you realize what we are about to do?”
> “What we should have kept at all along,” he replied.
“Does she know—”
“She knows,” he says. “That’s why she called.”
Alex looked at the door Candace had recently exited. “First things first,” she said.
“What might those things be?” Tate asked.
“We need to know everything we can about every person close to the president—yesterday.”
Tate smiled. “I thought you’d never ask,” he said. He pressed a button and pointed to a screen on the wall. “Get comfortable.”
***
“I thought you were off somewhere on a secret mission,” Pearl said.
“I am,” Candace replied.
“Raiding the kitchen is your secret mission?”
“It was until you caught me.”
“What are you up to?”
“That’s not obvious?” Candace asked.
Pearl’s gaze narrowed. “Jameson told me you weren’t going to be home until late.”
“Well, don’t tell her you found me.”
“Why are you avoiding her?”
“I’m not.”
“Explain yourself,” Pearl demanded.
Candace liberated a half-gallon of pistachio ice cream from the freezer, grabbed a spoon, and sat down at the table.
“Candy?”
“What?” Candace mumbled through a mouthful.
“If people could see their president.”
“Yeah, well, right now, I’d like to be Candace—if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind at all. You still haven’t answered my question.”
“I put some things in motion today—things I hope will give me a little time to breathe this weekend.”
“I don’t want to know,” Pearl said.
“No, you don’t. I don’t want to know—if you want to know the truth.”
Pearl laughed. “That was more of a mouthful than what you have hanging off your spoon. I’ll assume Jameson doesn’t know your schedule has freed up a bit.”
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