But he knew now how important all three types of NGOs were, because on every trip he met the real people behind the dreams and labor. He ate simple meals with the families who would be affected, knowing that the gift of food they gave him meant they all went a little hungry that day and the next. He played with the children who would have food in their bellies, clothes to wear, and the potential of education if Worthington Shares backed them.
Every time Sean boarded the plane to go back to New York City, he did so a bit older and wiser. Excess that he used to consider his right as a Worthington now bothered him. Both the people behind the NGOs and Elizabeth had changed him.
His dad’s mantra surfaced again: “To those who are given much, much is required.” Sean thought back to the many ways his wealthy father had made sure his kids brushed elbows with and served those in need.
Sean was grateful every day for his and Elizabeth’s ongoing work. No, they could never do enough to save every child, every family. But as long as they were on this earth, they would do all they could.
NEW YORK CITY
Will knew the instant he heard his sister’s voice that something big had just happened.
Big didn’t even describe the shock he felt at the news. “So you’re telling me that AF used money from ISIS to pull off the $25 million quid pro quo? Jon’s sure?”
“Absolutely certain. He wouldn’t have come to D.C. to tell me in person if he wasn’t.”
Will blinked. So Drew was right. There was more between his sister and Jon than Will had known. Now, though, wasn’t the time to bring it up.
“Okay. I’m going to do some research of my own,” he said.
“Thought you would.” Sarah hung up.
Five minutes later, Will was out the door and headed for the AF office. He phoned Drew on the way.
A SECURE LOCATION
“As expected, the story will break soon,” he told the man.
“The Times?” the man asked.
“Yes. No turning back now.”
The silence on the other end of the line hung heavy before the man sighed.
“You knew the time would come where you’d have to choose. You can’t protect both. It has to go one way or the other,” he told the man.
“I know,” the man growled. “Let’s just get this done.”
31
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Sarah didn’t waste any time after the story broke in the Times. She immediately appointed a special prosecutor to go after the president of the United States. Now, less than six hours after that appointment, she was in the Oval Office of the White House, staring down an angry president.
President Spencer Rich was on his feet, index finger pointed directly at her. They were the only two in the private meeting.
“I need you to back off immediately,” he demanded.
“Back off what? The truth?” She shook her head. “No, I won’t do that.”
“I put you in this position. You owe me,” he insisted. “You need to do your job.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” she replied in a steely tone.
His eyes narrowed further. “That doesn’t mean you’ll win.”
She matched his glare. “No, but I’m going to give it my best shot.”
“We’ll see about that. For now, this meeting is over.” The president turned his back toward her.
Sarah strode out of the White House with determined steps.
Her next moves would make her life extremely difficult. High-powered influencers around the president would swiftly realize that the impeachment proceedings could end their own political careers. She would receive mounting pressure from all sides to shut the prosecution down.
But Sarah would not cave like the attorney general had done during Watergate, when he’d been pressured to cover up Richard Nixon’s actions instead of prosecuting him. Rather than allowing the prosecution to go forward, the attorney general had buckled under the pressure and had resigned.
As long as I’m AG, I won’t back down. Ever, Sarah resolved. Even if that meant taking on her boss, the sitting president of the United States.
NEW YORK CITY
Will wasn’t surprised by the phone call from his sister. “So you’ve done it.”
“Yes.” Her tone was calm, calculated.
“You sure about this?” he asked.
“Never more sure.”
“Okay then.” He had no further questions except one. “Did you tell Dad?”
“He’s my next call. And Will? Thanks for believing in me. For trusting me. This is going to get messy.”
Messier than you might ever guess, he thought. “I know,” he said simply. “I’ll let Sean know.”
“Just remember, I love you to the moon and back.”
He smiled as she ended the call.
He had a couple calls himself to make—the first to Sean and the second to his father, after Sarah had talked with him.
The time was coming swiftly where they could no longer hide their secret from Sarah.
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Will had taken the news better than Sarah had expected. Perhaps because he’d known her actions were inevitable.
After working for the Criminal Division of the DOJ, she’d seen a lot of unscrupulous big players. She wasn’t so naïve to think she could halt the dirty plays from happening. But as AG, she was determined to at least make a big enough dent so the dirty players had to think twice and work harder to accomplish their purposes.
The little things—even the $25M quid pro quo where AF had received special privileges—wouldn’t be enough in themselves to impeach the president. What would seal the deal was President Rich’s behind-the-scenes dealing in foreign funds for his reelection campaign. Worse, the foreign funds had been from ISIS. That cover-up would pave the way for President Rich to be impeached.
Sarah knew what was at stake in going after her boss. She’d need to do her job thoroughly and without bias during the impeachment process. She’d have to expect public and private jabs at her, at her family. It wouldn’t be pretty, or easy. Her family deserved to know, to be forewarned.
But what she wouldn’t tell anyone yet was the next step in her dreams.
A SECURE LOCATION
The phone call he received was curt. “So Ms. Worthington is exploring what it would take to impeach the president.”
“Indeed,” he replied. “Let’s just say Spencer isn’t happy. He’s making enough noise that no one at the White House is happy either. Lots of ranting about the Worthington family in general.”
“Their meddling in affairs of state, I’d guess,” the man said. “Probably thought he’d put an end to that.”
“Clearly, that didn’t work with Sarah. Will already stepped out of the Senate race. So that means—”
“There’s only one remaining Worthington sibling to target again,” the man finished.
“With another round—but public this time. The photo with the Polar Bear Bomber.”
“It’s the one and only card Spencer has left to play,” the man said.
“Unless he figures out . . .”
“Yes, there’s that.”
32
WASHINGTON, D.C.
Sarah had been hard at work with the lead prosecutor to provide everything the House Judiciary Committee needed to sway the decision to proceed with the impeachment of the president. The chairman had just proposed a resolution calling for the Judiciary Committee to begin a formal inquiry into the issue.
So, it has officially begun, Sarah thought. No matter the cost, even to her personally, she would do all in her power to edge Spencer Rich out of office.
NEW YORK CITY
Will stared out his large office window overlooking Madison Avenue, pondering his sister’s gutsy move. Some of the power brokers in D.C. were calling it idiotic—a real career ender for Sarah. But to Will, it made sense. Each time they had talked over the past several years, he had sensed in her a targeted drive to do battle with
people in positions of power who didn’t use that power honestly or wisely.
The entire Worthington family had a growing dissatisfaction for the way President Spencer Rich was running the country—far different from the way his father had, years earlier. Thomas Rich had always been an honest man. But Thomas’s integrity and best character traits had not passed to his son. His quid pro quo deal with Eric Sandstrom during reelection infuriated Will, once he’d understood why the Arctic research had been bypassed. That one decision, made because of two men’s greed and drive for power, would have incalculable effects on the ocean systems and the shores bordering oceans around the world, not to mention the economic impact on hundreds of thousands of fishermen.
Add to that the collusion between Spencer Rich, Eric Sandstrom, and Frank Stapleton to control or bring down the Worthingtons . . . It didn’t sit well with Will. He knew Jason Carson was only a pawn. But he would also be glad to see that smug expression wiped off the lawyer’s face. And Stapleton? If Sarah’s gut was on target, and it usually was, then Will’s disgust for the man was unparalleled.
Will had already held an emergency AF board meeting to have Stapleton removed as board chairman, due to the investigation of foreign funds and the connection with Spencer Rich. Stapleton was apoplectic but had agreed to step aside.
“For now,” he’d warned Will with a steely glint in his eyes.
Now Sarah was up to her eyeballs in alligators. So was Will, following up on all of American Frontier’s records to see where exactly the ISIS funds had entered the picture. He’d given the DOJ and DHS complete and unfettered access to the AF archives.
Yes, Sarah had made the right move. He’d told her so. But he still worried.
“You know I’ll do whatever I can to help. And you know I’ll back you,” he’d said.
“Of course I know that. You don’t have a choice. If you didn’t, I’d put you in a headlock or send Mom after you,” she teased.
“You always were good at that,” he joked back.
“Then again, you always let me win, because if you didn’t, I’d run and tell Mom.”
“You did hold all the cards, you little manipulator.”
“And I still do. Only the president doesn’t know it yet. But that’s all about to change.”
He’d smiled at the authority and determination in her voice. His beautiful, bubbly sister who could befriend anyone was far from the belle-of-the-ball pushover that people expected her to be from an initial look. Before they knew it, she would gain control of the situation. But she never did it just to get the upper hand. She did it because she could orchestrate events and edge them toward balance and justice.
She’d make a great president of the United States.
He sat back in his chair, stunned. Where had that thought come from? But the more he pondered it, the more sense it made.
Dad always said it would take a Worthington to turn the ship of this country around and get it headed in the right direction. He had his sights set on me. I let him down.
And Will had still never told him why.
Next, Sean had dabbled in the political realm, letting the idea dangle around to keep the press busy for a while, then he’d taken his fishing pole and left the water.
What if Sarah is the one? Deep in thought, he absentmindedly rubbed his clean-shaven chin. The one Worthington who is destined to be the next president of the United States? Not only that, but the first woman president?
WASHINGTON, D.C.
President Rich had tried his best to derail Sarah in her pursuit. So had his advisors and a plethora of other Washington, D.C. veterans.
When that didn’t work, he played his highest card.
The president’s official order to stand down came on a Wednesday. She knew what her refusal would mean—that he would ask for her resignation.
She was prepared to resign rather than back down in her convictions.
Darcy phoned the next day. “So how are you holding up under all the pressure?”
“I’m going to resign,” Sarah told her friend.
There was silence on the other end of the line. “I understand. After all, you don’t have much choice, do you?”
“Not on that end,” Sarah agreed. “But I do about what happens next.”
“What exactly is that?” Darcy asked.
“I have a few thoughts brewing.”
“Any you want to share?”
“Not yet. But suffice it to say, I’m not going to let him win.”
The following day, Sarah resigned as attorney general. As she walked away, she prepared mentally for her next move—one that would stun even those who knew her well.
33
CHAUTAUQUA INSTITUTION, WESTERN NEW YORK
Sarah sat beside the rock-lined koi pond in her mother’s green room, listening to the rush of the waterfall. It was her favorite place in their family’s vacation house—filled with tall, leafy palms and ferns—and a great place to think. The coming weekend was Sean’s birthday, and the family always gathered from wherever they were around the globe to celebrate birthdays together. Craving quiet to help her strategize her next big move, Sarah had decided to go a day early, to spend some time with her mom before her dad was back in town and her siblings descended.
Ava had seemed quiet and withdrawn since Will’s aborted Senate race and Sean’s disappearance and return. Sarah knew her mother had to be worried about both of her boys. She was such a mama bear with her cubs. Still, that didn’t explain her evasiveness toward Sarah.
“Ah, there you are,” her mother said, entering the room. “Our shared favorite place.”
Sarah smiled. Ava had spent hours there adding colorful fish and various flowers until it was a garden extraordinaire.
Ava gestured toward the beloved sea chest that had belonged to her grandmother. “I have something for you.” She moved toward the weathered chest, opened the lid, and extracted a small package wrapped in gold tissue. “I’ve been saving it, but somehow I think now is the time to give it to you.” She extended the package to Sarah. “Here, open it.”
Sarah took the package. “But it’s not my birthday.”
“I know,” her mother said gently. “But I want you to have it.”
Sarah unfolded the tissue. A princess-cut flawless tourmaline diamond ring emerged. Two carats. Platinum. “It’s beautiful!”
“It was my mother’s,” Ava explained. “Her father gave it to her right before she married. He said it was because she was his princess and always would be.”
“And you want me to have it? Now?” Sarah asked, puzzled.
Her mom gazed at her. “Sarah, no matter what, I want you to know how much I love you. How much your father loves you. You always have been, and will be, our princess. I hope the ring will be a reminder of that when you need it most.”
Sarah stared at the luminescence of the ring. Of course she knew her parents loved her. But this time the way her mom said it seemed different—tinged with something else.
Sadness? Regret?
Not being able to identify what it was made her uneasy.
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll remember that.”
EN ROUTE FROM JAKARTA, INDONESIA
Sean settled in for the long flight from Jakarta to New York City. From there he’d hop on a flight to Jamestown, the closest airport to his family’s home in Chautauqua.
He smiled, thinking of the upcoming festivities. One of Bill’s few quirks was an old-fashioned jukebox that Ava had bought him on his thirtieth birthday. The kids had grown up listening to it. On birthdays, they’d turn on the jukebox, gather pots and pans from the kitchen, beat on them, sing at the top of their lungs, and parade around the house. Sure, it was crazy, but it was one of those things that made the Worthingtons a family.
Sean sighed. He loved that birthday tradition. It had been Sarah who had started the tradition when she was about five years old. Now, even though they were all too old, they still did it. Will and Laura’s kids—the next generati
on of Worthingtons—heartily joined in.
Suddenly, inexplicably, he missed Elizabeth. He texted her and got an answer an instant later.
Elizabeth
So, you ready for the birthday parade?
He shook his head. She always knew what he was thinking.
Sean
You bet. Maybe next year you can be a part of the craziness. See it for yourself. Your dad too.
I’d love that.
I can just see the look on his face now.
He laughed to himself. Dr. Leo Shapiro had seen many things, but the birthday parade might give even the eccentric scientist a jolt.
Me too. But I bet he’d love it.
Sean sensed her wistfulness. She’d said many times that it would really be something to have a larger family, like Sean did. After Elizabeth’s mom left, life for Elizabeth and Leo had been mainly on board research vessels—just the two of them. “I wouldn’t exchange time with my father for anything,” she had told Sean once. “But sometimes I miss . . .”
She hadn’t finished the statement, but Sean knew what she meant. She missed having a mom. Having siblings. Doing crazy things together, like birthday parades.
Then she had looked him in the eye. “Sean, never stop being grateful for your family. I hope you know what you have.”
“Believe me, I know,” he told her.
But he’d meant more than just his family. He’d meant Elizabeth.
Right now, though, she was half a world away, and that was much, much too far.
CHAUTAUQUA INSTITUTION
Sarah woke to warm light flooding through her large bedroom window at Chautauqua. Squinting around the room, she smiled. It still had all the touches reminiscent of her teenage days, when she’d gone through a retro stage—an infatuation with the icons of the sixties, flower power, and the Beatles. She’d outgrown it long ago, but somehow, in the swirl of life, the bedroom had stayed the same.
A Primary Decision Page 12
