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Situation Room

Page 11

by J. A. Armstrong


  “Oh, I don’t think I have half the courage Alex possesses.”

  “No, I know that you don’t.”

  “I’m well protected.”

  “From physical harm, maybe.”

  “You sound like Jameson.”

  Cassidy nodded. “JD’s a smart woman.”

  “She is. You’re worried. About Alex,” Candace surmised.

  “I always worry. I try not to let her see that. I worry more about Claire.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Like I said, you and Alex are more alike than you realize. I know most of our friends think that you and I are similar. We are—in many ways; we are. I don’t confront the things that you and Alex face—not in the same way.”

  “What does that have to do with Claire?”

  “Perspective. Alex is one of the most compassionate people I know—like you. You both care for people—people you’ve never met. You feel a need to make a difference in the world.”

  “And Claire doesn’t?”

  “No. She does. Claire will tell you the entire world is gray, that there is no right or wrong, just the things people think are right and wrong.” Cassidy shook her head. “That’s her defense. In reality, she sees everything as black and white—good and evil. I think some part of her still fears she falls into the latter category.”

  “That’s what worries you.”

  “It does. I’ve seen Alex come home looking beaten—beaten, Candace. I hold her while she cries and wonders aloud about the world she sees. Why? How? What can she do?” Cassidy lifted her glass and took another sip of wine to gather her thoughts. “It takes a toll. Just like it wears on you. But you and Alex—you have the ability to see the gray areas. And, you know that you are not responsible for everything horrible that happens in the world. You do your best to change it. When it gets to be too much, you look to home—to your family. It’s a reminder that the world is not all dark and hopeless, and its fuel to keep going.”

  Candace took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She didn’t know Claire Brackett nearly as well as she did Cassidy and Alex. She did know that Cassidy shared a special bond with Alex’s partner. She noted a twinkle of motherly protection in Cassidy’s eyes. Jameson had developed a close friendship with the FBI agent. It was one of the relationships that Candace understood was separate from her marriage to Jameson. They had connected when Claire and Alex were assigned to a serial killer case in New York while Candace was still the governor. Jameson told Candace most of the details of her collision with John Carter—not all of it. Whatever Jameson had recounted or had chosen to omit about her altercation with the murderer, one thing was clear; it had forged a close friendship between her and Agent Claire Brackett.

  “Alex seems confident that Claire can handle whatever comes her way—so does Jameson.”

  “Technically, Claire can; I’m sure. But Claire isn’t one to walk away from danger, Candace. She’s like a bull in a china closet. She’ll charge ahead full force without considering the casualties.”

  “Namely Claire?” Candace guessed.

  “Mm. She’s happy to be back at it,” Cassidy admitted with a chuckle. “So is Alex.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think you want to thank me.”

  Cassidy laughed. “Actually, I do. They are both impossible to live with at times when they’re bored. They need the challenge. It’s not what they do; it’s who they are. That doesn’t mean I won’t worry.”

  “I understand. I remember waiting by the phone when Carter was at the house with Jameson.”

  “JD can handle herself too. Alex says she would recruit JD in a heartbeat.”

  Candace was not surprised. “Jameson could do anything she chose. She grew up in a family of blue bloods. God knows, she loves to solve a puzzle. Cass, I’m sorry if my request…”

  “No. Don’t you dare. I told you; Alex and Claire are happier when they have a case to crack—the bigger, the better.”

  “Why do I get the feeling there is more to your concern than you’ve told me?”

  “Because there is. Candace, this world that you are immersed in—it’s not the world most people imagine. Spy novels and movies pale by comparison to reality. Fiction is held to a ridiculous standard of plausibility. Reality is not.”

  Candace sighed. “You know, when I first arrived here, I cracked a joke about traveling to Area 51 and Joshua cringed.”

  Cassidy laughed.

  “It might not house aliens. It does conceal things that people are reluctant to share with me. It’s not an anomaly either.”

  “I know,” Cassidy said.

  “I know that I’ve only scratched the surface. There are days I don’t want to dig any deeper.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I have to,” Candace said. “If I hope to make the best impact possible, I have to know as much as I can—even if I’d prefer to live in ignorant bliss.” She sighed again.

  “What is it?”

  “I was thinking that I’ve isolated myself too much.”

  “Isolated?” Cassidy asked.

  “Isolated. I’ve been hibernating in the house and my office unless I have a purpose to leave.”

  Cassidy sipped her wine and watched as Candace struggled to continue her thought. She waited patiently. There was a reason Candace requested this visit. It went beyond touching base with Alex, catching up with friends, or giving Cooper playtime. Cassidy sensed she was about to find out that purpose.

  “I think I understand how Claire feels—just a little.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t fear that I am evil, nor do I think I’m any beacon of morality,” Candace said. “I wonder sometimes if I’m equipped to deal with any of this—if I’m qualified. Who am I to decide what is just, Cassidy? One man’s hero is another man’s villain.”

  Cassidy nodded. “True. That’s why you are qualified.”

  “This should be good.” Candace chuckled and lifted her wine glass.

  “Stop. You understand that, Candace. Most people don’t want to accept the truth. Perception is reality. We believe what we’re sold most of the time. If you or I were born in Russia or in Iran—if we were born in rural West Virginia or Beverly Hills, we’d have a different perspective. You can’t change anything if you don’t understand that.”

  “I know. I also know I need to get back to my roots.”

  “Hence the decision to take a vacation when you get back from Europe?”

  “We all need the change of scenery.”

  “You do,” Cassidy agreed.

  Candace laughed. “Am I that transparent?”

  “No. Not to most people. To me? Yes. I’ve seen it in the drafts of your speeches. Distance. You need to get back to yourself. This isn’t just a change, Candace—living in this house, leading this country. It’s a different life altogether. It isn’t forever, though. Keep that in mind.”

  “No. It feels like an eternity some days.”

  “Regrets?”

  “Not regret. I knew this would be difficult for our family.”

  “But you thought it’d be easiest for you.”

  Candace shrugged. “I did. I’ve lived in this town before.”

  “Not the same at all, is it?”

  “Not even close. I never thought I’d long for situations that involve dirty diapers, ear infections, arguing siblings, and dirty laundry again.”

  “Feel free to visit us any time.”

  Candace laughed raucously. “I might take you up on that.”

  “Please do. I’m happy to share all of it. Listen, it’s easy to pull away. I remember. It’s different, but I do remember. You’re living under a microscope. Don’t forget that you are living,” Cassidy advised.

  “Good advice,” Candace replied.

  “I try.”

  “What do you say we go see what kind of trouble our wives are causing?”

  “That might be more dangerous than what’s hidden at Area 51.”

  Candace laughed. “S
omehow, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

  ***

  Jameson had been resistant to the idea of a weekend visit from Alex and Cassidy when Candace first raised the idea. She loved Alex and Cassidy. Jameson was exhausted by the constant flow of people in and out of their home. It seemed to never end. She didn’t share her frustration with Candace. In some ways, it seemed ridiculous to Jameson. Life with Candace had always been full of intrusions. A large family that lived in close proximity assured that life was seldom solitary and never dull. Late night calls from Jonah and Sunday drop-ins from Shell differed from the interruptions they had endured since moving to Washington. Jameson looked forward to the upcoming European trip. Being away from home equated to constant meetings and appearances. Their time would be scheduled down to the second. While that was tedious, it also meant that when their schedule concluded, Jameson could expect some quality alone-time with Candace. She wondered if they would ever find more than a few fleeting hours of normalcy or one-on-one time when they came home. She looked across the pool table at Alex and smiled.

  “I get it,” Alex said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You would prefer a little less company.”

  Jameson shook her head. “Well, I did think that at first.”

  “At first?”

  “Yeah. I swear, other than sleeping, I don’t recall the last time Candace and I were alone for more than an hour.”

  “I wish I could say I can imagine that. I can’t. Don’t get me wrong, someone is always knocking on our bedroom door, screaming down the hall, or sliding down our stairs and landing themselves in the ER.”

  Jameson laughed. Alex and Cassidy’s family resembled Candace and Jameson’s in many ways.

  “But I know that’s not the same as advisers calling in the middle of the night, and having your wife dragged from bed before the crack of dawn.”

  “No, it’s not. Crazy that I wish we could go back to that chaos some days. You know, the kids showing up just when we were getting comfortable. Jesus, I even miss Shell.”

  Alex chuckled. “I think it’s just going to take you some time.”

  “To get used to it?”

  “No, to tell people to go away,” Alex said.

  “I don’t think that’s usually an option.”

  Alex shrugged. She lined up her next shot, took it, and stepped back from the table. “It’s always an option, JD. She just has to learn that again.” Alex moved into position and readied her next move.

  “Somehow, I think Candace might disagree.”

  “No doubt. That doesn’t make it less true. Give it a little time. She’ll learn.”

  “Do you have some inside information?” Jameson chuckled doubtfully.

  “More like insider experience.”

  “Jane?” Jameson asked.

  “And John,” Alex replied. She fired her next shot, sunk two balls, and looked back at her friend. “He was a holy mess the first three months they lived here.”

  “Really?”

  “I was working a case at NSA at the time that he was keen to follow. Probably why I was assigned to it. Anyway, I never saw him look as tired—not even in Iraq. Jane was frazzled. No one noticed—no one that mattered. I don’t know. When you almost die with someone, you see things differently, I guess. He was worried all the time—all the time. Not paranoid, but—overwhelmed. I had to deliver plenty of bad news. I know that was the tip of the iceberg.”

  Jameson hesitated to ask but she did, “the one that sank his presidency?”

  “Part of it,” Alex answered without missing a beat. “Don’t start projecting doom for Candace,” she advised. “She has an advantage that he didn’t.”

  “What’s that?”

  “She’s an outsider?”

  “I think most people would disagree,” Jameson replied.

  “That she is an outsider or that being an outsider gives her an advantage?”

  “Both.”

  Alex shrugged. She moved to the table and considered her next move. Before she continued with their game, she stood straight and addressed Jameson. “She’s a Washington insider. True. She’s not part of the complex, JD. Trust me; for her; that is a good thing.” Alex leaned over the table and took her shot.

  “How bad is it?” Jameson asked. “Don’t bullshit me, Alex. Claire gave me the runaround the other day.”

  Alex missed her shot and groaned. She set aside her cue, grabbed her beer, and took a seat on one of the bar stools in the recreation room. “Claire will be straight with you, JD. Maybe more than me. There’s nothing she can tell you—nothing that will matter.”

  “It matters to me what Candace has on her plate.”

  “The world,” Alex responded. “Everything that no one else can make sense of—that people have looked at and pondered over and can’t figure out what to do—all of those things land in Candace’s lap. You know that.”

  “I meant specifically.”

  Alex shrugged. “Who knows?” she said. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not bullshitting you. She’s worried about Russia. She’s worried about Iran. She’s worried about South America, and the violence in Central America. She’s wondering what the hell is happening in Ukraine and in China. All of it, JD. None of it is isolated. That’s the problem. As many issues as there are, there are a million chords connecting them. Some of those chords need to be severed. Others need to be strengthened. That’s where Claire and I can help.”

  “I worry,” Jameson confessed. “Sometimes, I think she’s being tested deliberately.”

  “She is.”

  Jameson stared at Alex.

  “What did you expect, JD? She’s an unknown quantity in this game. No one actually knows how Candace will respond under international pressure, and before you say anything; it is different. Getting the call that someone is plotting to blow up federal buildings, or that the Russian military is moving on Poland—that a foreign government has gained access to our power grid, those calls are what Candace has to confront. Everyone is watching what she does or what she doesn’t do. They are testing her—her resolve, her strength, and her intelligence. That’s better in a lot of ways than knowing what to expect. It makes her a wildcard. Old adversaries see a potential ally. Old allies wonder if she could become a potential adversary.”

  “How is that good?”

  “It keeps them in line a bit. No one is likely to make a big move across the board for a while. It buys her time. In some ways, that’s more stressful than being forced to react.”

  “Is that what happened with John?” Jameson wanted to know.

  “No. He was placed. He did his duty—until his duty became his conscience and not blind loyalty to the people pulling his strings. He was in an impossible position. Candace can create her position. So, yes, I see it as an advantage.”

  “It’s surreal. All of it. I don’t know what I thought this would be like—like living in Albany on steroids.”

  Alex laughed. “She’ll figure it out.”

  “I know. I’m not so sure I’m helping.”

  “Want my advice?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stop trying so hard.”

  Jameson sighed.

  “I’m serious. If you’re pissed about something, tell her that. If you hate the fact that she wants someone to visit—make it known.”

  “I’m not sorry you’re here.”

  “But you would have preferred to be alone with your wife this weekend.”

  “I thought so. I don’t know. I think we both need a break. Family is great, but it comes with its own set of issues. We have friends here. Most are tied up somehow with Candace’s image—Dana, even Laura when I think about it. Neither of us can talk as openly with the kids or most of our friends as we once did. She figured out what we needed before I did. She usually does.”

  “That’s why she’s the president.”

  Jameson laughed. “Point taken.”

  “Who’s winning?” Candace’s voice asked from t
he doorway.

  “Alex. As usual,” Jameson replied.

  “Are you two up for a game?” Alex asked Candace and Cassidy.

  “Sure,” Candace said.

  “I get Cass,” Jameson chimed.

  Candace feigned offense.

  “What? Aw, come on, Candace; Cass is the only person I know who can beat Alex.”

  Cassidy laughed. “I wouldn’t be so sure. She won’t take it easy on me with Candace around.”

  “I don’t take it easy on you,” Alex said.

  Cassidy raised her brow.

  “I don’t,” Alex repeated. She looked at Jameson. “Just a warning.”

  “What’s that?” Jameson asked.

  “I have it on good authority that your wife doesn’t take prisoners.”

  Candace rolled her eyes. “That was years ago.”

  “What?” Jameson asked.

  “You never told her?” Alex asked.

  “Told me what?” Jameson wanted to know.

  “She wiped the table with John a few times,” Alex commented. “I didn’t have the pleasure of watching. Jane filled me in.”

  “It was years ago, and I’m fairly certain he was drunk,” Candace commented. “Don’t get your hopes up,” she told Alex.

  “I’ll take my chances,” Alex said.

  “Me too.” Jameson put her arm around Cassidy.

  Cassidy laughed. “Why do I suddenly feel like I’m on a hidden camera?”

  “Or a reality TV show,” Alex said.

  “Bite your tongue,” Candace quipped.

  “Oh, come on, can’t you see it? Real Life Lesbians—The White House Edition?” Jameson commented.

  Candace stared at Jameson for a second and then erupted in laughter. “Lunatic.”

  ***

  Candace leaned in the doorway and watched as Jameson pulled off her sweater. Jameson felt the heat of Candace’s stare and turned.

  “What are you doing?” Jameson asked.

  Candace closed the bedroom door and paced across the floor. She grabbed the sweater in Jameson’s hand and tossed it aside.

 

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