by Jack Mars
It didn’t really matter. Those feelings would dissipate with time. The highest ideal here was to build bridges of understanding between peoples. And to Susan’s way of thinking, you led from the front, not from the rear.
After the speech, there was a reception in the garden. Pierre had taken a pass on this event, and she didn’t really blame him. Kat Lopez shadowed Susan as she mingled. After a moment, Haley Lawrence was there.
“Susan, I have to thank you,” he said. “I was wrong. I was in over my head, and I lost my composure. You stood alone, made difficult decisions, and saved us from a possible world war. If that story is ever written…”
Susan smiled. “Thanks, Haley. Let’s hope it never sees the light of day.”
General Walters was just steps behind Haley. He offered his hand for a shake.
“Madam President,” he said and smiled.
Susan was in a good mood today. She shook his hand and returned the smile. “General, I’d like to see your resignation on my desk tomorrow morning.”
His smile faltered. “Susan?”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll give the press the usual great American stuff when I go public with it. You’ll keep your rank and your pay grade. It’s just time for you to retire. You’re a hothead, General. And you’re a warmonger. I guess I never realized that before now. We can’t have people like you near the levers when things start to go wrong. For the sake of our children, and our children’s children.”
The general had been struck dumb.
“Sound okay to you?” Susan said. Her smile never wavered.
“You’ll regret this,” General Walters said. “I’m a decorated general. I’ve spent my entire life serving this country. And you—you’re just a woman.”
Susan met his steely gaze. In the past, men like this had intimidated her. But no longer.
“I am President of the United States,” she replied, her voice as steely as his. “And as you refuse to address me as such, you may leave these grounds right now. Or shall I have security escort you out?”
He turned beet-red, scowling, and Susan wondered if he had ever been so angry in his life. And yet, he glanced around at the Secret Service flanking her, and if he had any ideas, seemed to think better of it. Grudgingly, with no other choice, he turned and strutted away.
Susan mingled a bit longer. She was getting ready to leave when she spotted two more guests she hadn’t realized would be here. Brent Staples and Michael Parowski stood near the edge of the garden, eating finger sandwiches and drinking champagne. She caught herself staring at them. Brent was as rumpled and frail-looking as ever. Michael was as virile and handsome and confident as ever.
When they noticed her stare, they approached.
“Susan,” Brent said. He didn’t offer his hand. “Credit where credit is due. You did a masterful job. You dodged a bullet with the sex scandal, and then saved us all from nuclear Armageddon, so I hear. All in a day’s work, eh?”
She didn’t give ground.
“Why are you gentlemen here?”
Michael smiled, as confident as ever.
“We’re here to bury the hatchet,” Michael said. “The crisis is past. It’s a good time to start rebuilding party unity.”
Susan wasn’t sure if her mouth was hanging open or not. She closed it firmly, just in case. The gall of these people. It was outrageous. It was unbelievable. It was…
Susan smiled sweetly.
“Brent,” Susan said. “Are you still on retainer here?”
“Oh yeah,” Brent said. “I’ve been on retainer since Thomas and you were first elected. Thomas Hayes was the third President to have me on permanent retainer, and your administration has continued…”
“In that case, you’re fired,” Susan said.
He stared back, mouth agape.
Now she looked at Parowski.
Kimball ambled over. He was relaxed, looking well rested and sharp. His bald head gleamed in the sunlight. His body once again seemed strong and fit. It hadn’t taken him long to get back to normal.
“Kurt, can you tell me, has that security clearance issue with Michael been resolved?” Susan asked.
Michael made a face of dismissal. “You know I’m not a security risk, Susan. I mean, all’s fair in love and war, but for the love of God…”
Kurt raised his eyebrows. “With everything else that’s been going on?” Kurt asked. “I very much doubt it.”
“Good,” Susan replied. “Keep it that way.”
She turned to Michael.
“Michael,” she said, “I have made very few bad decisions in my life, and you were one of them.”
He smiled, a cold, steely smile.
“And I am the only one you can’t undo,” he said, smug.
“You are wrong about that,” she went on. “You’re fired.”
His smile hardened.
“You can’t do this,” he said. “The flip-flop will hurt you more than me.”
“I can do, and I’ve already done it,” she replied. “As we speak a press release is hitting all media outlets, informing them you will not be my pick for vice president. I don’t care if it hurts my polls. I never want to see your face again.”
She turned to the Secret Service, standing close by.
She smiled wide, and for the first time, took a big breath of relief.
“Escort the congressman,” she said, “from the premises.”
9:05 a.m. (12:05 p.m., Eastern Daylight Time)
Over the Pacific Ocean
It was a long flight home.
They had been flying for six hours, and there were still five hours to go before they reached the west coast. Time, as it often did when crossing the International Date Line, had ceased to have any meaning.
In the back of the plane, Swann and Ed had been drinking beer and playing cards for hours. They had stopped making sense a long time ago. Mostly, they were just laughing now. They were blasting rap music from the 1980s and 1990s, which they had discovered was a mutual passion.
“You talked to the President?” Trudy said. She seemed a little bit tipsy herself. Luke didn’t blame her. He was halfway there. He found that alcohol numbed the pain from his stab wounds. It didn’t do much for the hole where Park Jae-kyu used to be, however.
“I told you five times that I talked to her.”
“And she said?”
“Trudy, she said you’re off the hook. You don’t have to go back to jail. You won’t even be questioned, unless you want to come forward and share what you know.”
“So… it’s like a Presidential pardon, right?”
Luke shook his head. Trudy knew better than that. She really was drunk. “It’s not a pardon. To be pardoned, you first have to be convicted of something. You were never tried or convicted. In your case, the charges have been dropped for lack of evidence.”
“But will I get my old job back?” she said, and here she offered him a sly smile.
“Trudy, your old job was with the SRT. There is no SRT anymore.”
“That’s what I mean,” she said. “Is there going to be one?”
Luke looked at her. It had never even occurred to him, before this moment, that such a thing was even possible. Would Susan Hopkins offer him a small agency if he wanted one? Something specialized, only the very best analysts and operatives, an elite, hand picked by him? They would work the most challenging cases, ones other agencies were either too big or too slow to take on. It would be the kind of agency that…
He nearly laughed. He sure was a sucker for that kind of thing.
“Trudy,” he said. “I’m retired, remember?”
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
August 23
3:35 pm
United States Naval Observatory - Washington DC
“This is good coffee,” Luke said.
They were sitting in Susan’s upstairs study, in the small living room area, with the circular Seal of the President of the United States rug under their feet. It was
pleasant in that room - Luke could see why she liked it so much. The time of day was right, throwing just a perfect amount of light through the west facing windows. And it was a good time for a cup of coffee. Luke had been back in the States a couple of days now, but he still didn’t feel like he had recovered from his trip. The truth was, he felt exhausted. And when he looked at her, he saw someone who looked much the way he felt. She should be careful. This job was going to run her down one day.
“So how’s life, Luke Stone?”
Luke nodded. “Not bad. Glad to be home. I heard you had some controversy around this place while I was away.”
She held her forefinger and her thumb about an inch apart. “Just a little, yes. But we’re pushing through it.”
Luke had heard something about it, how it turned out Susan’s husband was… gay? That seemed crazy, but okay, that’s what people told him. Really, he didn’t care either way. Gossip had never been his thing. Still wasn’t. He could easily picture a life where a gay man and a heterosexual woman were married, especially if they’d been together a long time. People could do what they wanted, as long as they weren’t hurting anybody in the process. That’s why it was a free country. And that’s why he had repeatedly put his life on the line for it.
“How is your side?” Susan said.
“Where I got stabbed?”
“Yes. Where Kim Song-Il stabbed you.”
Luke shrugged. “Uh, you know. It hurts. Feels sore, like… eh. I don’t know. A stab wound, if you’ve ever had one of those.”
Susan shook her head and laughed. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Well, they’ve got me on some good painkillers for the time being. He didn’t hit anything too important, so the whole thing should fade with time.”
“I know you were there when he…”
“Died?” Luke said.
“Yes. And I know you were debriefed about that. The report that you…” She trailed off.
“Killed him?” Luke asked.
She nodded.
“Is that true?”
He nodded.
“He was going for the button.”
Susan shook her head slowly, in clear admiration.
“Can you imagine if he had pushed it?” she asked. “You saved us from a nuclear attack.”
Luke shook his head.
“He was just a cog in a wheel,” he replied. “If the Chinese hadn’t shown up when they did, someone else would have found a way to launch them. You saved us.”
She smiled.
“What was he like?” she asked.
Luke smiled.
“The craziest man I’d ever met,” he said. “And I’ve met a lot.”
She laughed again, and Luke joined her. It felt good to laugh about horrible things. For a second, Luke caught an image of Park Jae-kyu, stumbling and shot full of holes in the last seconds of his life, but Luke waved that away like an annoying insect.
“So here’s the serious question,” Susan said. “Now that we’ve broken the ice. Do you want to come back? We can create another Special Response team for you, if you’re willing. You could cherry pick the cream of the crop from any intelligence agency or special operations branch of the military. It would be an arm of White House security, and you would report directly to me. Which also means that in the field, your orders would supersede those of any other agency. You’d be the boss out there.”
Luke sighed. He’d had a feeling this was coming.
“Well, it’s tempting,” Luke said. “But I’m just not ready to commit right now. I’ve got a family I’m trying to piece back together.”
Susan nodded. “I understand that. Family is important.”
“Maybe more important than country,” Luke said.
“Probably so.”
There was a pause where neither one said a word. Luke could see where, in another minute or two, the pause might become awkward. Despite their history together, they barely knew each other.
“Will you carry a satellite phone?” Susan said. “In case I feel the need to get in touch with you?”
Luke smiled again. “I’ll carry it. But I can’t guarantee what I’ll do if it rings.”
Susan almost seemed ready to smile, but then didn’t.
“Fair enough,” she responded. “Fair enough.”
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT
August 28
6:45 p.m.
Queen Anne’s County, Maryland – Eastern Shore of Chesapeake Bay
The days were getting shorter. It was noticeable now, if it hadn’t been before. The sun was already far to the west. It was going to be an early evening, and maybe a cool one at that.
Jacket weather was coming in.
He and Gunner were in the boat, not far from shore. In fact, Luke could see every detail of the house from here. He watched as Becca started a fire in the outdoor fireplace and set the table on the patio. Luke had been back in the house for a week. He had no idea where this was going. He was still sleeping in the guest bedroom, but…
He noticed as Becca put a bottle of white wine and two glasses on the table.
He and Gunner weren’t really trying to fish, Luke knew. They were just out here, messing around with the boat, enjoying each other’s company. Gunner was about to turn eleven years old. How did that happen?
Oddly, he wasn’t even wearing a zombie shirt. He wore a black T-shirt with the word ZERO HOUR on it. There was also a clock striking twelve.
“So what’s Zero Hour, Monster?”
“Oh, they’re a rock band, Dad. You probably never heard of them.”
Luke nodded. “Hmmm. Probably not. Are they good?”
Gunner smiled, barely looked at him. “They’re really good.”
“Maybe we should go to one of their shows if they ever come through town.”
Luke noticed Gunner didn’t want to touch that one with a ten-foot pole. Sure. What would be about the uncoolest thing ever? Going to a rock show with your middle-aged dad would be right up there.
Gunner nodded at the satellite phone on the bench, maybe because he was curious, maybe just to change the subject.
“What are you planning to do now that you’re back?”
“What do you mean?” Luke said.
“Well, I noticed you still have that phone. That’s for if the President calls, isn’t it?”
Luke nodded. “I guess it is, yeah.”
“Will you answer it?”
Luke thought back to his meeting with Susan, after he had returned. It had been short and sweet. She had congratulated him, had actually hugged him. She had hinted that she’d wanted him to stick around, in whatever capacity he wanted, with whatever department, whatever personnel, he wanted. He hadn’t said no. And he hadn’t said yes, either. There was no need to. There was no new crisis now, for the first time he could remember.
It was time to relax. He would cross that bridge when he came to it.
But one thing was clear: he had a friend in Susan. A real friend. As crazy as it was, he was one of the closest people out there, he realized, to the President of the United States. Whenever, wherever, he was, he could reach her with a single phone call—and she’d likely stop whatever she was doing to talk to him. That made him feel gratified. It made him feel that his country loved him back.
And that feeling was enough.
“I don’t need to answer it, Monster,” he finally replied. “It’s not ringing. And I don’t think it’s going to ring for a long, long time.”
Slowly, Gunner’s smile widened, a wider smile than Luke had ever seen. He had made his son’s day.
Luke glanced ashore. Becca was there, waving her arms now.
“Let’s go, Monster,” Luke said. “Dinner’s ready.”
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OPPOSE ANY FOE
(A Luke Stone Thriller—Book 4)
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A small arsenal of U.S. nuclear weapons are stolen from a NATO base in Europe. The world scrambles to figure out who the culprits are and what their target is—and to stop them before they unleash hell on humanity.
With only hours left before it is too late, the President has no choice but to call in Luke Stone, the former head of an elite FBI para-military team. Finally getting his life back in order, and with devastating news on his own family front, Luke does not want the job. But with the newly elected female President desperate for his help, he realizes he cannot turn his back on her.
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OPPOSE ANY FOE
(A Luke Stone Thriller—Book 4)
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