by Debra Webb
“I understand.”
Before he could hurry away to carry out his new orders one last point needed to be made.
“Your continued failures,” he said, garnering the man’s full attention once more, “won’t be tolerated.”
CAROLINE WAITED in the hospital administrator’s office while the doctor working on Justin’s case was cleared for access. Rupert sat next to her while Agent Copeland remained near the door. The administrator, Mr. Ramirez, had urged Caroline to permit a briefing on her husband’s condition before seeing him. She had agreed, though she wasn’t pleased about the delay. A part of her wanted to rant at the administrator and his staff, to tell them that she couldn’t care less at the moment what anyone had to say. She needed to see Justin. To verify with her own eyes that he was alive.
But she said nothing of the kind. Her every action, every word, reflected on the country she represented. She would not fall down on her duty now. Calm: she had to remain calm and composed. Rupert had already brought her up to speed with what he knew, which wasn’t much. The details he had received had been sketchy at best.
“President Winters,” Ramirez said, drawing her from the disturbing thoughts, “I am so sorry to keep you waiting.” He rushed into the room with a man in tow who wore a white lab coat and black wire rim glasses that sat askew on his face. “Dr. Hernandez will give you an update now.”
Mr. Ramirez settled into the chair behind his wide desk, leaving a flustered Dr. Hernandez standing in the middle of the large office looking entirely at a loss.
“Thank you, Dr. Hernandez,” Caroline offered in hopes of setting him at ease. “I appreciate your time.” She moved to the edge of her seat, unable to subdue the tension ripping through her. “Please tell me how Justin is doing.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “Mr. Winters is doing…very well,” he said, his English only slightly halting.
“It’s been three months.” She needed some explanation as to how he had been lost for this much time. “Has he been here this whole time? Is he fully recovered from whatever injuries he sustained in the accident?”
The administrator jumped in to provide the answer to her first question. “Oh, no, Madam President. We now know that for nearly three weeks he wandered in the mountains not so far from the crash site. One of our citizens found him while moving his herd of goats to a new grazing location.”
Caroline nodded, her emotions reeling beneath the serene exterior she worked hard to present. “What sort of condition was he in at the time?”
“Very bad,” the doctor said gravely. “We were certain he would not live. He had no identification and could not speak. The authorities came and took fingerprints but there is much scarring and the prints were not usable. But his overall size and description fit one of…” He cleared his throat. “His description matched that of a criminal the authorities had been searching for for many years now. We assumed—wrongly of course—that he was this very bad man.”
“And yet you attempted to save his life.” She needed to understand how this delay in their identifying him happened. It seemed unreasonable. However, the last thing she wanted was to appear ungrateful.
“There were answers the police needed. His survival was very important. Apparently the man they sought knew the location of others they hoped to apprehend.”
“So his condition improved with your care?” Caroline’s heart pounded so hard she could scarcely catch her breath. “He’s better?”
The doctor nodded enthusiastically. “But he awoke from the coma only yesterday.” His expression faltered a little. “Of course we were very upset to learn that we had considered your fine husband a criminal. We swiftly amended the situation.”
“Coma?” She and Rupert exchanged glances. This sounded worse all the time. And she felt quite certain that those in charge had been seriously unsettled when they realized who they had held here, practically under house arrest, for all this time.
“He fell into a coma the same day he arrived,” the administrator explained. “We were not certain if he would return to us. As soon as he told us his real name and his story was verified we contacted your government.”
Caroline wanted to get past that for now. She needed to know more about her husband’s current condition. She knew that the prognosis for a comatose patient was most often uncertain. Some woke up, others didn’t.
“His many injuries healed well while he was in the coma,” Dr. Hernandez went on. “Sometimes the mind goes into a coma so that the body can focus fully on healing itself. This is the case with your husband, I believe.”
Dozens of horrifying images flitted past her mind’s eye. “How badly wounded was he?” She didn’t recall an answer to that question…was the evasion a stall tactic of some sort?
“A number of fractured bones, serious head trauma, and some burns to his hands,” the doctor related.
That’s why the fingerprints weren’t usable, she guessed. “Does he understand who he is? Fully, I mean.” It seemed logical that he did on some level since the hospital had known to contact the U.S. ambassador here in Mexico.
“Yes,” Hernandez responded quickly. “He woke up asking for you.”
Relief flooded Caroline. She held back the sob that surged into her throat. “May I see him now?” She didn’t want to wait any longer. She knew all she needed to.
The doctor turned to the administrator who still looked uncertain.
“Is there something else?” Rupert pressed. “Something more we should know first?”
Her trusted friend and advisor had voiced the very concerns tearing at her. Something wasn’t quite right.
“Mr. Winters,” the administrator began, “has lost a good deal of his memory. It is doubtful that he will regain it.”
“You may find him forgetful and having to learn some things he once knew over again,” the doctor added. “He…he is not the same man you last saw.”
En route to Mexico Caroline had mentally and physically prepared herself for this moment. She had shored up any doubts by telling that tiny fragile voice whispering in her ear that she could face anything. That no matter her husband’s circumstances she would charge in, bring him home and all would be as it should be once more.
But now all that went out the window.
She stood, everyone in the room moved to attention. “I want to see him now.”
“I think that would be the best thing,” Rupert offered congenially, already moving toward the door.
Caroline couldn’t work up any regret at the edge in her tone as she’d issued the demand. Her stomach had tied itself in knots. Her nerves had frayed—enough was enough. She could draw her own conclusions as to Justin’s condition.
Mr. Ramirez and Dr. Hernandez led the way. Caroline, Rupert and her security detail followed close behind. The chosen route from the administrator’s office to Justin’s room had been cleared and approved for her passage. In truth the entire hospital as well as a large area around it had been prepared for her arrival.
The journey down the long corridor to the bank of elevators was wrought with tension. Inside the car that would take them upward it wasn’t any better. A stiff jerk and then a smooth rise to their destination. With every passing second Caroline’s heart beat faster, her respiration grew more shallow. She had to keep telling herself again and again that this was real, not a dream.
On the third floor the hospital administrator paused outside a closed door. “We’ve had one of our security officers sitting with him since we learned his identity,” he explained as if he feared the guard’s presence would be questioned. “A number of your agents are with him now as well.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ramirez,” Rupert returned. “We sincerely appreciate the additional effort on your part. Your staff has been more than kind. We appreciate all you’ve done.”
Ever the statesman. Caroline was never more thankful for Rupert’s presence than she was now. She felt reasonably certain that she could not have done this alone. If
they’d had a guard with Justin since they’d learned his true identity, what precautions had they taken when he was thought to be a criminal? The picture of him shackled to the bed made her stomach clench.
Ramirez nodded and pushed open the door. He remained outside while the doctor accompanied Caroline and Rupert into the room. Four Secret Service agents flanked all sides of the room. A fifth man, obviously Hispanic, stood stoically near the bed.
The head of the bed was raised enough that the patient sat upright. A crisp white sheet draped his lower body, banding across his waist. The part of his upper torso visible above the sheet was clad in a printed cotton hospital gown.
Caroline’s heart lurched when her gaze settled on the blue one that was as familiar to her as her own hazel eyes. She rushed to his bedside and threw her arms around her husband. “Justin, thank God.” She couldn’t manage anything else. He was alive and that was all that mattered at the moment. She had so many things she wanted to say to him, so many apologies for the hurtful words. But all of that could wait.
“I was certain I would never see you again,” he whispered, his usually smooth voice too deep and gravelly.
Caroline drew back and studied him. She bit her lips together to keep from commenting on the difference. She forced a smile. “I’m here now. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to find you sooner.” She shook her head slowly from side to side. “The search went on for weeks. They were certain there were no survivors. They only found…” She didn’t have to say the rest, he would know.
He nodded. “I understand. I don’t know how I survived. I can’t remember anything about the crash or the weeks after. It’s as if I suddenly woke up yesterday with no memory of anything since I left…you.”
Caroline almost winced at the last. Did he remember the hurtful words she’d flung at him? Was that why he seemed so distant now? Tears crowded into her throat. Life was so fragile. She had learned that lesson the hard way when she had lost her father. She had known better than to risk allowing that kind of no-going-back scene to go down. The idea that they might never know what had caused the crash gained full realization. The investigation had reached no conclusive explanation. They had all hoped that if a survivor were found he would be able to explain what had happened, or at least shed some light on the final moments. The so-called black box had rendered nothing.
Clearly they would never know what had happened or whether the incident was an act of sabotage.
The number of others present in the room suddenly annoyed her. She needed time alone with her husband. Time to set things straight. To unburden her heart. To seek forgiveness.
She took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. Her expression fell as the rough feel of his fingers and dry texture of his skin invaded her senses.
He noticed, his posture instantly stiffening.
Caroline dredged up another smile and refrained from looking down at the hand she held. “Let’s go home, Justin.”
He nodded. “I’ve been waiting for you all this time.”
All other thought vanished, nothing else mattered. She had let Justin down. But God had granted her a second chance. She would make things right again…somehow.
She turned to Dr. Hernandez. “I can’t thank you enough, Doctor. I hope you will let me know if there is ever anything I can do for you or this hospital.” She offered the doctor an appreciative smile. “I am greatly in your debt.”
Rupert made the necessary arrangements to depart Mexico City. En route aboard Air Force One with Justin resting comfortably in a reclining position, her senior advisor brought up the subject she’d allowed to drift to the farthest recesses of her brain during the past few hours.
“Now, more than ever, I believe that a short vacation is necessary.” He leaned forward and spoke for her ears only. “You and Justin need time…alone.”
Caroline agreed. He would get no argument from her. However, this changed everything in her opinion. “I’ll take some time, but I won’t be initiating the Twenty-Fifth.” There were other things she needed to attend to as well. Like the speech for the graduating class of her high school alma mater.
“Understandable,” Rupert allowed. “I see no reason to go that far under the circumstances. They’ll chalk your forgetfulness and insistence that Justin was alive up to women’s intuition and leave it at that. Redmond certainly won’t pursue the issue.”
Caroline’s jaw hardened. Redmond. How had she ever been so completely fooled by the man? He would not win this battle. Perhaps he considered her a fragile female incapable of fighting back, but he was wrong. She was far stronger than he suspected. She would fight back. And she would win.
“One way or another I’m going to take Redmond down a couple of notches. I want a meeting with him the moment we return to D.C.”
Rupert lifted a skeptical brow. “Let’s not be hasty, Madam President.”
“I think the problem is that I haven’t been hasty enough. I should have nipped this problem in the bud weeks ago. I don’t need my own people working against me.”
Rupert flared his hands in question. “I agree. But he is rather vindictive when pushed into a corner. He’ll come out fighting.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Caroline concluded. She was more than ready for this battle. With Justin safe she intended to focus fully on squaring away the little ripples of unrest Redmond had set off in her Cabinet. “He won’t win this battle,” she said with complete confidence.
A smile pulled across Rupert’s face. “I never thought he would.”
Other than her extended security detail, the only member of Caroline’s staff who had accompanied her on Air Force One on this trip was her personal secretary. She said to Rupert, “I think I’ll take care of some necessary dictation while Justin is sleeping. Get in touch with Aaron and have him set up that press conference. I want the world to know this good news right away. We won’t involve Justin but I will entertain a few questions. I’d like to get the jump on this story. I don’t want any of them formulating their own survival theories.”
Rupert nodded and moved to the other side of the luxurious cabin to set to the task of putting in a call to the White House press secretary. As he waited for the call to be patched through he instructed Caroline’s personal secretary to join her in preparation for dictation.
As Caroline dictated some long-overdue correspondence, a part of her remained focused on her husband’s face. There was one scar starting at his right temple and slashing down his jaw, but otherwise his face was unmarred. She frowned as she studied him. He looked younger somehow. Or perhaps she simply felt older. God knew she’d aged a decade in the past three months.
She assumed he had burned his hands attempting to free himself from the wreckage. At the hospital as he’d dressed in the clothes Rupert had kindly thought to bring along, she had noticed a number of scars on Justin’s back as well. His hair was a little longer than before but not much else had changed.
And still, everything felt different. She imagined that it was her own guilt intruding. Or maybe some part of her was still convinced this was only a dream and that she would wake up to that same ugly reality any moment.
But it wasn’t a dream. He was alive. She had a second chance…at everything.
The plane abruptly dipped sending papers flying. Her secretary barely caught the laptop in time. Caroline’s gaze collided with Rupert’s. His reflected the same question as hers. What now?
Her stomach dropped to her feet as the nose of the plane dropped again then jerked upward.
“What the hell is going on?” Rupert shouted as he got to his feet to investigate.
Agent Howard Copeland appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
“What’s happening up there?” Rupert demanded, slanting a look toward the cockpit.
“Please fasten your seat belt, Madam President,” Copeland said to Caroline. “Yours as well, ma’am,” he said to the secretary before bothering with Rupert’s demand. “Please, sir,” he said then, hi
s tone calm but firm, “keep your seat and buckle up. You’ll be safer that way.”
Rupert didn’t appear appeased, but he followed the agent’s instructions. The rest of the security detail was moving into place around Caroline, whispering among themselves and making the necessary preparations.
“What’s going on, Agent Copeland?” Caroline asked, maintaining a professional tone despite the quaking going on inside her.
The agent looked directly at her then and she saw the fleeting glimmer of fear in his eyes. “Everything is fine, Madam President,” he said then forced a dim smile. “We’re having some engine trouble, but we’ll be fine.”
Caroline knew it was a lie.
Her gaze sought her husband. Those clear blue eyes were open now and staring back at her with an intensity that sent a new kind of shiver over her skin.
He didn’t have to say a word.
He knew.
He had experienced this same moment once before.
They were going to crash.
Chapter Three
Lockdown
San Antonio, Texas
They were alive.
Caroline closed her eyes and thought about just how close they had come to crashing. If not for the expertise of the captain and his co-pilot, things would have turned out very differently.
The captain had managed a hard landing at a San Antonio airstrip. Rescue personnel as well as local law-enforcement and state police had been on hand for the landing. The entire presidential entourage had been quickly transported to the San Antonio police department where the whole building went into lockdown mode. There wasn’t a U.S. Marshal or FBI agent for a hundred miles who hadn’t shown up to help out with the Code Red emergency.
A military detail from nearby Fort Sam Houston had arrived posthaste. Caroline felt completely secure despite still being shaken by the whole event. She could only imagine how Justin felt after what he’d been through already. His seemingly calm exterior surprised her. But then again, he had no memory of the crash. Perhaps that was a blessing under the circumstances.
