Candace made no reply.
“You don’t think so.”
“In some ways, I think that’s true. Sometimes, Marianne plays the role of my friend. Sometimes, you’ve played the role of my adviser. Jonah? He sometimes is my protector.” Candace chuckled. “None of that changes that fact that when I look at any of you I see my children. Just like when I look at Pearl, I always see my mother.”
“I guess.”
“You’ll understand one day.”
“Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you like it— being The President?”
Candace sucked in a long breath and considered Michelle’s question. Did she? “Do you mean is it enjoyable?”
“I guess.”
“Not always,” Candace replied honestly. “It is rewarding. I needed a reminder. I’m glad we did this tonight.”
“A reminder?”
“Yes—of why I wanted this job.”
“Because you can make a difference,” Michelle chimed.
“I hope it’s a positive difference.”
“It will be.”
Candace smiled. “Shell, there is one thing about this job that I do understand. And, trust me, there are many things I find difficult to comprehend.”
“What’s that?”
“No matter how carefully I weigh the options presented to me, no matter how thorough I am in my assessment of any issue, and regardless of how confident I feel when I make a decision—a million factors will determine whether the outcome is what I hope. Nothing any of us do is in isolation. The choices of others impact the path we each follow. And, none of us—not even a president can predict or even demand the actions of others.”
“Uh—yes, you can. That’s why you’re the Commander in Chief.”
Candace laughed. “Giving a directive has never guaranteed it will be followed—not even by the world’s most notorious leaders, Shell. We might like to think it’s so, but people have to choose to follow the course you prescribe. That’s why the world has seen revolution.”
“That’s depressing.”
Candace laughed harder. “No. It’s life. I suppose in that way parenting is the best preparation for the presidency.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
***
A WEEK LATER
Candace listened carefully to her advisers as they took turns imparting information, assessments, and suggestions regarding various issues their departments currently confronted. She seldom made any comment until a person finished his or her accounting. She preferred to digest all of the information before seeking clarification on any singular point. Jennifer Gorham was wrapping up her overview of concerns and initiatives at The Department of State. On the list was military movements within Kaliningrad. It seemed Alex had begun planting her seeds.
“Gil and I have discussed the intelligence from our assets in the area,” Secretary Gorham explained. “There are some discrepancies, but the information is similar—enough that I believe it warrants further exploration.”
“And you agree?” Candace posed her question to the Secretary of Defense.
“I do.”
Candace turned her attention to Joshua Tate. “Joshua?”
Tate nodded. “None of this information is new, Madame President. Kaliningrad has been a point of concern for our European allies for decades.”
“But if I am understanding this build-up is new,” Candace commented. She gauged Joshua Tate’s response thoughtfully. Tate was cautious and measured. Candace felt a sense of relief. From her experience, Tate’s demeanor signified understanding. He didn’t suspect that Alex had put this information on the front-burner—he knew it. He would allow the others in the room to lead the way—at least, that is what he would do when everyone was in the room. Candace wondered how her National Security Adviser’s assessment might change when they spoke privately.
“I don’t find any of the new intelligence surprising,” Tate offered. “The question is whether the Russians are fortifying a defensive position or seeking to prepare for an offensive mission.”
“We know they have designs on the Baltic States,” Gil Rodgers interjected.
“True. Military aggression in that area is hardly on the same playing field as movement within Ukraine,” Jennifer Gorham said.
“Joshua?” Candace deferred to her National Security Adviser.
“Jen and Gil are both correct. If logic prevailed we wouldn’t have half the problems we are facing,” Tate said.
Candace chuckled. Accurate. “Proposals?” she asked.
“Beef up our assets nearby,” Rodgers replied. “Partner with the embassies in Poland, Lithuania, and Sweden. They have a direct line to dormant assets in the area.”
“Dormant?” Candace questioned. She watched at Secretary Rodgers shifted in his chair and turned again to Joshua Tate.
“Embedded,” Tate began. “For decades in some cases. Many of whom have not been actively assigned in years.”
“How many?” Candace asked.
Tate offered her a suggestive smile.
“I see. What are your thoughts on all of this, Nate?” she asked the vice president.
“The Baltics are always of concern,” he agreed. “Russia is clever—more so than I think most Americans understand. There is a purpose to everything they do. If we have this intelligence, chances are someone wanted us to have it—someone in Russia.”
Tate nodded.
“You agree,” Candace surmised.
“I do,” Tate said. “The question is whom.”
“And to what end,” Candace said.
“And to what end,” Tate repeated.
“Very well, let’s continue our surveillance and see how close we can get without tipping the scales too far,” Candace told the group. She received a roomful of nods and stood to bid her staff farewell. “I want Joshua to run point on this,” she told them. “As much as possible, filter your information through him. We need this to be streamlined. And, don’t leave anything out—any of you. I will decide what’s important. Don’t assume anything is inconsequential.” Another round of nods preceded customary handshakes before the room emptied. “Joshua? Stay a moment?”
Tate reclaimed his seat and waited as Candace walked Nate Ellison to the door.
“Why do I get the feeling there is more to this meeting than you’ve told me?” Ellison inquired.
Candace winked.
“Candace, I hope that you trust me enough—”
“I trust you,” she said. “You need to trust me right now.”
Ellison held the president’s gaze firmly. Candace had yet to leave him out of the loop on any matter that she deemed important. Candace Reid seldom discounted anything as menial. That meant that Nate Ellison was constantly pulled into meetings. Candace had treated Ellison as a partner not a subordinate—until now.
Vice President Ellison’s evident curiosity curled Candace’s lips into a smile. She respected the younger man, and not for the first time, she found herself glad she’d chosen him to sit beside her. “I promise, you will understand this meeting soon.”
“If there’s a reason to doubt anyone in that room—”
Astute. Candace laid her hand on Ellison’s arm. “I’m not convinced anything nefarious has happened.”
“But it might have?”
“Let’s just say I’d like to avoid any icebergs.”
Ellison nodded. Leaks. There was nothing worse than a leaky ship, particularly in precarious waters.
“Thank you,” Candace said.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Exactly.”
Ellison chuckled. “Let me know when there is something I can do.”
“You’ll be the first.” Candace watched as he walked away. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. She valued transparency. Currently, she was out of her comfort zone. She steadied herself and closed the door to the Oval Office.
“He was a good choice,” Tate off
ered.
“He was.” Candace sat back in a familiar chair and regarded the man before her. “So—”
“I wondered when Alex called me the other day what had prompted it.”
“She suspected you would.”
“She’s right to be overly cautious.”
“Of you?” Candace asked.
“Of everyone.”
Candace sighed.
“I told you long ago; Alex is the best at what she does.”
“And Agent Brackett?”
Tate laughed. “Agent Bracket is a bit more—colorful than Agent Toles. She’s also one of the most intelligent people I have ever met.”
“But?”
“Once upon a time I would have counseled you to exercise caution.”
“But not now.”
“Agent Brackett was never known for her loyalty. Not broadly. The few who held it—well, let’s just say that when Claire Brackett gives someone her loyalty, she is undaunted in that measure. She would die before she would betray Alex.”
Candace nodded. “Alex?”
“Yes.”
“Because of Cassidy?”
“I think that’s the biggest part of it,” Tate admitted. “I will assume by this conversation that Alex has agreed to let Claire hit the ground running.”
“You sound a bit surprised.”
“I am.”
“You just said that Claire could be trusted.”
“I believe that to be true. Claire is not the neat and tidy kind, Candace. She gets results. Sometimes, she creates a shitstorm in the process. Alex is methodical. Claire is—”
“Reckless?”
“Unrestrained.”
“How is that different?”
“It’s different,” Tate said. “While I hate to admit it, it’s why she gets results. She’s not afraid to act, Candace.”
Candace pressed down a wave of nausea. “Are you telling me I should expect a trail of bodies?”
“I’m telling you that Claire Brackett knows how to get answers. Alex is an adept agent, Candace. There is no one better—and, I mean no one—who can look at the pieces of a puzzle and make them fit. She sees things other people can’t and she knows how to discern the meaning. Claire will get Alex what she needs. That’s their dynamic.”
“None of this surprises you; does it?”
“Do you mean the intelligence Alex has astutely crafted about the Russians or do you mean the fact that she chose to test my allegiance?”
“Both.”
“When you asked me to accept this post I told you that there were things you would discover that would make you question everything you thought you understood.”
“Yes, you did.”
“I trust Alex. I trust Claire. I trust you—as much as I can trust any person.”
Candace sighed heavily. “Never let your guard down, is that it?”
“You know the answer. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is follow your instinct—obey what your gut tells you. I’m not surprised by anything—not any longer. As for Russia, the intel that Alex rolled to State and Defense was just different enough that we should be able to tell if we have a mole in one department or both.”
“What does your gut tell you?”
“To watch your back, Madame President.”
“And your counsel on how to proceed with what we do know?”
“Exactly as we are,” Tate said.
“What about Kapralov’s policy on the border?”
“Well, if we intervene in any way—even if that is to leak images to the media in the hope that it’s framed as a humanitarian crisis, we’ll tip our hand.”
“So, we let those people starve.”
Tate shrugged. “People are starving everywhere.”
“Not helping.”
“I know. You know better than most that we can’t simply fix everything.”
“That doesn’t mean we should ignore it,” Candace returned.
“We’re not—you’re not. Give yourself a break, Madame President,” Tate advised. “This office has challenged the toughest men I’ve ever met. I watched President Merrow age daily from that desk.” He gestured behind the president. “Not many people have the strength to acknowledge what they can’t do so that they can invest their energy appropriately.”
“I don’t have to like it.”
“No. Let’s hope you never do.”
***
Alex stood at the kitchen counter, pinching the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t slept. She needed to focus.
“Feel like telling me what’s going on?” Cassidy asked.
“Hey.”
“Hey? I haven’t seen you grip the bridge of your nose like that since the twins bathed your car with silly string.”
Alex laughed. “That was a mess.”
Cassidy waited.
Alex wasn’t sure what she should say.
“Is this about your visit with Candace?”
“She told you?” Alex asked.
“Not the details.”
Alex shouldn’t have been surprised. In this house, President Candace Reid was known as Aunt Candace. Cassidy’s relationship with the Head of State had blossomed into a friendship that Alex envied at times. For most of their marriage, Cassidy’s closest friends had been members of their family. It wasn’t that Cassidy didn’t have people she called friends. Her life had been immersed in raising a growing family and she happily spent most of her hours at home. Candace had given Cassidy an overdue outlet—not only a job, but a friend to whom Cassidy could confide things that sometimes were best discussed outside the realm of family. Ironically, Alex had come to consider the president and her wife part of their family. That was one of the reasons she dreaded this conversation.
“Alex?” Cassidy implored.
“I told you that I offered her any help she might need before she took office.”
“You did,” Cassidy agreed.
“She needs some help. Not the kind I can provide with my FBI badge.”
Cassidy immediately understood. “I see.”
“Cass, I’m not getting back into the thick of it—not like before.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I won’t be traipsing off to parts unknown without warning.”
“How much warning should I expect?” Cassidy wanted to know.
“Claire is taking lead in that department.”
Cassidy poked at her cheek with her tongue. Alex’s revelation was not the revelation Cassidy thought. Cassidy was no more surprised at Alex’s news than she had been when Alex announced she was returning to the FBI a year earlier. She was neither keen on the idea of Alex immersing herself in the world of espionage nor was she opposed to it. She was aware the risks Alex’s announcement carried—for everyone.
“Cass—”
“We both know that you can’t guarantee me that you won’t get sucked into this.”
“I don’t have any plans to run off and—”
“If you’ve agreed to this, you’ve done that because you think there is a need for you to go back.”
Alex sighed.
“Claire,” Cassidy began.
“Claire agrees.”
“Claire wouldn’t need to agree to jump back into this mess. We both know it. She’s bored. And, if you are completely honest with yourself, you have been bored too.”
“I’m not doing this out of boredom,” Alex said.
“No, I’m sure that’s true. Relieving the frustration that you’ve felt at the bureau is a bonus—isn’t it?”
There was no point in denying Cassidy’s assessment. Alex had been frustrated at work. “If I can help, I need to help.”
“I know. Don’t pretend that this is the same as walking into a classroom, Alex, or even that it’s like the investigations you’ve conducted at the FBI. We both know this is something much darker.”
“I won’t take any unnecessary risks. That includes where Claire is concerned.”
Ca
ssidy chuckled. “I hope you intend to tie yourself to her.”
“What?”
“Alex, I love you. I love Claire. Claire is not going to do things your way. You know that as well as I do.”
“She’s not reckless the way she used to be.”
Cassidy nodded.
“Are you worried that she’ll fall back into her old life?”
“No,” Cassidy dismissed the thought. “I know she will take more risks than you would want her to take.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Alex laughed. “Okay. Point taken. She is an excellent agent, Cass.”
“I don’t care how excellent she is, Alex.”
“I know that too,” Alex admitted.
“Tell me this much, do you think Candace is in danger?”
“Physically? No. No more than any president on any given day.”
“But?”
“She’s at risk of being compromised, Cass.”
“Politically?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll assume you’ll be spending more time away?”
“I don’t think so.”
Cassidy was confused.
“I’m not leaving the bureau, Cass. Jonathan will keep me in the loop from Carecom. I’ll use my credentials as needed.”
“And, Claire?”
Alex closed her eyes. “Things have been set in motion.”
“What things?”
“Cass—
***
“This is bullshit,” Claire complained.
“You think your assignment is bullshit?”
“I don’t think it’s bullshit, it is bullshit.”
“There is no such thing as quote, ‘a bullshit assignment,’ at the FBI.”
Claire rolled her eyes.
“Brackett,” Alex warned her partner.
“Oh, come on, Toles! This is bullshit!” Claire looked at the Assistant FBI Director sitting across from them. “What exactly is your problem with us?”
“Agent Brackett, I strongly suggest that you change your tone.”
“Or what? You’ll fire me?”
“Brackett,” Alex called through gritted teeth.
“You can’t be serious, Toles. This agency sucked us both back in to solve a case they couldn’t handle and now they want to sideline us? That is what I call bullshit.”
The assistant director slammed his fist on the desk. “Enough! You are dangerously close to insubordination.”
Situation Room Page 8
