Fritz held the door as the leaders silently returned to the Old Executive Office Building. Only the president, the vice president, and Fritz were left in the fake hallway.
“Can you handle one more day, Fritz?”
“I can, but I need to get Linda at the airport at dinnertime.”
“We'll be done by then. By noon, I hope. How's Jane?”
“I don't know. She's with Ash. I think they went to the hospital.”
The president pushed the panel, but it didn't open. Fritz hit the release, and they went to Ashley's empty classroom. Tony told Fritz that Ashley had said to call him.
“We're done, Tony.”
“Not yet, Fritz. I still need to go home.”
“Sorry. I keep forgetting you don't live here.”
“It feels that way sometimes, doesn't it? I'll go now. Oh, and I'll call Mr. Dougherty. They'll get Linda.”
“Thank you. I'll tell her.” He hesitated. “Mr. President, do you think it worked?”
“We'll know in the morning. Let's go, Joe. I have something I want you to do.”
When the president was gone, Fritz went into his classroom and sat at his desk. Tony came in, and Fritz motioned to a chair.
“You know, Tony. I thought for sure this would work, that he'd get them to sign.” Fritz rubbed the back of his neck as he looked up at the president's picture on the wall. He opened the buttons of the uniform jacket. “That's better,” he said, and rubbed his stomach and chest. “Tony, is Milt Chelton at the airport?”
“Uh-huh. They plan to break everything down when the meeting is over. Why?”
“I had a thought the other day. I think I have the perfect place for the walls in the hallway. Bring him with you in the morning, okay?”
Tony nodded and said, “Call Ashley.”
Chapter 27
JANE LIMPED into the kitchen with Ashley just behind. Fritz caressed a glass of amber liquid. “Want a drink?” he asked.
“Tonight, yes, I do,” she said. “What happened after we left?”
“Another meeting tomorrow morning. I don't think I've ever seen him so angry. He walked four of them through the portal, the way he did with the Speaker. Blank stares when they came back. I could hear him in the meeting. He was, let's say, purposeful.”
“Good. But something else is going on. I can feel it. Remember the Korean talking about his teams. What if one of them was the group at the Hay-Adams? What if another was at Camp David? What if it's not terrorists from the Middle East?” Mary and Jim walked into the kitchen. Jane looked at Jim and said, “Who stands to benefit?”
“Jane, even if you're right, the president thinks it's someone from the meeting,” said Fritz. “We still don't have any proof. Only random links.”
Jane shook her head, her long-distance stare returning. “Caballeros.”
The president called at midnight. “Nine o'clock, Fritz. Okay?”
“Sure. Same routine? Where are you going this time?”
“Death Valley.”
Fritz chuckled and shook his head. “See you then, Mr. President.”
“WE'RE READY, Mr. President.” The door opened to the Oval Office, the missing ceiling now made up of tarps. The debris had disappeared, and the Presidential Seal was visible again on the rug.
“Morning, everyone. Last shot to make my point.” He handed Fritz the Death Valley map. “No one knows except us. Let's go.” Fritz set the map. The hallway filled quickly, and the heads of state were gone. The president returned almost immediately.
“Let them sweat a bit. Maybe then they'll know I'm serious.”
“Mr. President,” Jane said, “I think it's the Caballeros.”
“I've been thinking about that too, Jane. But how would they know? We'll talk later. Fritz, Linda will be at Dougherty's office. They traced her reservation for me.”
“Thanks. I'll tell her.”
“Let's bring them back.”
The portal opened, and the hall filled and emptied again. Fritz didn't need a cue.
“Thanks, Fritz. You're done for now. Talk to you all later.”
* * *
ONCE THE PRESIDENT had gone, Fritz found Milt and asked when they planned to take down the fake walls and clear the hallway.
“We'll start as soon as the guys get here. Had to wait until everything was done.”
“What are you going to do with these walls?”
“Take them out and probably break them up for scrap. They don't have any other use.”
“I had an idea the other day. I think they'll fit in George's office. Would you consider a remodel job?”
“Why not? Shame to waste all that hard work making them. Let's take a look.”
“Jane, why don't you go sit in my room?”
“Fritz, I want to see what you're thinking,” said Ashley. “George will have a fit if you mess with his inner sanctum.”
“He hasn't even painted that room since I've been here. It's time to redecorate.”
Getting into George's office was easy. Milt took a tape measure to the bare walls. His experienced eye visualized the finished product. “We can do this. They will just fit. Do you want us to paint too?”
“Do you have gold paint?” asked Fritz.
“No, but I can get some. Want us to do it today?”
“Don't do it, Fritz.” Ashley warned. “Ask him first.”
“How long before your guys get here, Milt?”
“I haven't called yet. If they stop for paint, a half hour maybe. The trucks are already loaded.”
Fritz took out his phone, hesitated, and then dialed George. Lois answered.
“What are you up to, Fritz?”
“You amaze me constantly, Lois. Do you think George would like his office remodeled? And painted?”
“We'll be there in fifteen minutes.” She hung up.
“Call the guys, Milt.”
George was huffy, not happy about another disturbance in his life. Lois, on the other hand, looked at the panels and told him it would add stature to his position. “White won't work in here though,” she said. “You need some color. Something bright.” She turned to Milt. “Could you add some shelves? George, you can get rid of those ugly metal things.” When Milt said they could, she said, “George let's go home and let them get to work.” As they were leaving, she said yellow or gold would be good.
* * *
“I DO NOT KNOW WHERE they will be this morning. He did not tell me. In fact, he went straight to his room.”
The man gazed at the sunrise hitting the Pacific as he listened. “IM, we've disrupted them successfully. Thank you for keeping me informed. I assume you are returning home with your people. I will see you here in two weeks.” He hung up. Excellent orange juice this morning.
* * *
“FRITZ, I THINK we need to spend some time on the play this week,” Ashley said.
Fritz yawned and ran a hand through his hair. “It's hard to change gears. You're right, but I'm not ready yet. I could use a day off.”
“Hey, pal, we don't have a day off until school ends. Suck it up.”
“We've just been a part of what may be the most important event of our lives, and we're talking about school. What an absurdity.”
“I understand. I was thinking how weird it is that your door opens to the world, literally and figuratively.”
* * *
MEMORANDA HAD BEEN sent to each leader. Doubts and questions resonated in the conference room. The agreement they were about to conclude would mark the end of conflict and notify the world that a new economy was coming to the region. The president told them they had two words from which to choose—yes or no.
“Mr. President, I need to discuss this with…”
“No, you don't. You can agree or not. What you say after that, and to whom, won't matter. We will have a press conference when we're done. It will be broadcast around the world, either for or against. Yes or no.”
The four-page agreement had been reviewed by the c
abinet, the state department counsel, and the four congressional leaders. “You all have seen the development documents and the agreement. Here it is. I've already signed and dated it. Lunch is in the next room. If you will, sign it and join me.” Surveying the faces around the table, he rose, and left the room.
* * *
ANOTHER NON-STOP weekend caught up with them. Jane spent the afternoon waiting for news and discussing the reports on the two attacks. The details about what had happened at the Hay-Adams were more readily available, but the security videos from Camp David were too far away to spot the attackers. At 5:30, Fritz said he was heading to the airport and asked if anyone wanted to come. Jane said she was waiting to hear from the president. Ashley said he'd pick up dinner. He was on his own. He drove over the bridge and south on I-95, the same route he had followed at Thanksgiving. When he reached the spot where his wheels came off, his wandering into a vision of the crash brought honking from the car he almost cut off. Just what I need, another one. On the downslope of the bridge, he watched a plane approaching the runway until the road curved and the plane disappeared from view. He parked and went looking for Charles Dougherty's office.
At 6:30, Linda and TJ arrived, escorted by two security guards. Dougherty said the two men would escort Fritz and Linda to their car. Linda had protested that it wasn't necessary.
“Ms. Russell, our mutual friend asked me to be sure you got home safely. We've arranged an escort across the river. He asked me to call him when you're on your way.”
Fritz said, “I appreciate it, but I think he's probably a little busy right now. He's had a bad weekend.”
“Ya think? I wouldn't want to be in his shoes. But he insisted, and he's not someone I want mad at me.”
“I know what you mean. Well, then, thank you.”
With two police cars as company, one in front, one behind, the Russells crossed the bridge to New Jersey. Fritz watched in the rearview mirror as their escort peeled off and headed back.
“I'm glad you're home,” said Fritz.
“Glad to be home. I have a lot to tell you. I had a long talk with Daddy. But I was busy, too. Mom asked me to make lasagna and wrote down everything I did.” She told Fritz that she spent each meal giving her mother tips on how to cook dinner. “Daddy said he hadn't had a good homemade meal in years. Not in front of Mom, though.”
“We have company for dinner, Lin. Jane and Ash. And Jim has been with Mary pretty much all weekend.”
“You weren't in the attacks, were you?” She frowned. “Fritz, too many people know now for us to be safe.”
“I wasn't. Ashley went into Camp David last night. Jane was hurt again. He brought out a bunch of people after the attack.”
“And now more people know. Is she hurt badly?”
“Fortunately, no. At least it doesn't seem like it. She was hit by glass and something hit her on the head.”
“He's as bad as she is. Rushing into an attack. They're both nuts. Made for each other.” Fritz looked sideways for a moment. Although her comment was innocuous, her tone was angry. He wondered what she was holding back, but he let it pass.
Dinner was ready when they walked in. “You've had a quiet weekend, I hear,” she said, looking around the table. “Jane, are you okay?”
“A little sore. But I've been worse.”
Fritz looked out the window. Behind him, the whoosh and soft bang of the closing oven door signaled dinner. The clink of glasses, the clank of pot and serving spoon, and the clunk of the platter on the counter was prelude to the meal Ashley had collected.
“Have you heard from the president?” Fritz asked. Jane shook her head, glancing at the clock. “I wonder if the meeting's done?”
“He said he would call. If it had gone well, we would have heard by now, I think,” Jane said.
“I was so sure this morning. Is anything being reported on the news?” Jane shook her head again. “Any news about the attacks?”
“Fritz, nothing's changed since you left.” She stopped. Though she had more to say, she shook her head, and took a bite of chicken. The only sound was TJ chittering in his swing.
Dinnertime passed into evening and pressed into night. Jim left and Jane and Ashley had their coats on, when finally Jane's phone sounded, “Hail to the Chief,” her new ringtone for the president.
“Hello, Mr. President.” Her frown became a scowl. “You're kidding. Sorry, but that just makes no sense. Okay, talk to you then.” She handed the phone to Fritz.
“Hello, Mr. President.”
“Fritz, I just wanted to thank you again. I know it's been a long weekend for you. We'll talk again soon.” The abrupt click prevented further questions.
“Jane, what happened?”
“He didn't want to talk. Only the Israelis and British were willing to sign. He knows he can't force them, and he can't keep them here.”
Fritz leaned on his elbows and pressed his fingers together. Looking through the bay window, he said, “It's not over. School ends before dinner. Maybe we have another shot to make it work.” He turned to Jane. “Jane, call him back. Tell him to keep them in town until tomorrow night. We need to come up with one more demonstration. Let's figure it out. I have an idea.”
Jane's call went unanswered. Linda stared at Fritz as if he'd lost his mind. He ignored the questions, took out his phone, and called. His call wasn't answered either.
“Jane, do you have Mel Zack's number?” She found it and handed Fritz her phone.
“Hi Mel. It's Fritz Russell.”
“I know, Fritz. My phone is magic.”
“Sorry. Do you know where the president is?”
“Fritz, he's on his way to see Lucy Williams. He said he won't take calls until he gets back.”
“Can you get through?”
“I don't know. He's on an emotional rollercoaster. Been a bad weekend.”
“Mel, I have an idea, and it can't wait. Will you try, please?”
“James is dead, and he's upset and angry about the outcome of the meeting. I want to help, but I can't overstep my limits. I'll let him know you said it was urgent, but I can't promise.”
He hung up and picked up a pen and tapped, staring at the tabletop.
“What's your idea?” Ashley asked.
“It won't matter if I don't talk to him.” He sucked his lips. “Linda, don't we have James's home phone?”
“It's with TJ's stuff. The gift list. I'll go get it.”
“Fritz, maybe now's not a good time to pursue this,” Jane said. Linda agreed.
“Look, we've all had a long weekend, and it certainly didn't go well. I know he's rattled. But he can't quit now. I've seen him face adversity. He's embraced it, shaken hands with it, and even invited it to dinner. Then, he choked it out of its misery. He can't stop now.”
Linda grimaced. “I'll get the number.”
“Lucy, this is Fritz Russell. We're so deeply sorry. Linda wants to talk to you, too. But I really need to talk to the president, and I was told he was on his way to see you. I think I have a way to make this weekend not a waste. Would you tell him?”
“That's a mouthful, Fritz. He's right here.” Fritz heard a momentary pause as he came to the phone.
“I got your message, Fritz. I have a lot to do. I'll talk with you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow's too late.” Fritz yelled to keep the president from hanging up. A sigh, and the sharp tone that followed bit into his ear.
“All right, Fritz. What is it?”
“Mr. President, I have an idea that might shake them up. But you have to keep them here.”
A dispirited voice asked, “What's your idea, Fritz?”
“The past.”
Fritz's answer summoned the Cheshire Cat. Ashley knew the leaders hadn't seen the portal at its best and asked, “So what did he say?”
“He'll call when he gets back to the White House. He wanted to know if I have something specific in mind. We need to come up with something.”
Linda said, “A C
hristmas Carol.”
Chapter 28
WHEN THE PRESIDENT finally called, the printer was running, Linda and Ashley were doing research, and Jane was making calls.
“So you think you can make this work?”
“I do, Mr. President. I was thinking—the past. But Linda suggested we make it personal. We already know we change the future, but you can certainly make a point about changing the present. If being in their bedroom didn't get the message through, maybe this will.”
“That's pretty devious, Fritz. You missed your calling. I should have been more wary of you last spring. So what's the plan?”
* * *
EXHAUSTED, Fritz and Ashley met in the hall after third period. Fritz said he had talked about the War of 1812 in class, the last time the White House had been attacked. Ashley told him all his kids wanted to talk about was what had happened over the weekend. He had them write news stories and read them aloud.
“Did they stay?” Fritz asked.
“Jane said only two left. The president told them to come back, or he was coming to get them.”
Fritz told the ninth graders he would have the next round matches ready to post by Wednesday. “We already did it,” said Susan. “We used a random number generator, like you did.” She waved a sheet of paper. “Here it is.” The list was set up like the brackets for March Madness.
“Good. Go ahead and post it. You might ask Mr. McAllister if you can announce the games.”
“We did that too,” said Jay. “Tomorrow morning.” I should be getting used to their competence and impressive thinking, Fritz thought.
Before heading out, he went to see George and let him know another mission was coming. Ms. Sweeney accompanied him to George's doorway, a cheerful twinkle in her eyes. George was rearranging his office.
“Looks nice, George.”
The principal looked at his new bookcases and the paneling and grinned. “Thanks, Fritz. It makes me feel brand new. Even the paint smell doesn't bother me too much.” The side chairs were empty for the first time since the fall.
Storm Unleashed (Quantum Touch Book 4) Page 16
