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Below the Belt Page 16

by Stuart Woods


  “The Agency.”

  “Are they going to shoot Lance?”

  “No, but he might get kicked upstairs.”

  “Director of Homeland Security?”

  “Could be.”

  “Do you think Lance would take that? He’d probably have more fun staying where he is.”

  “No doubt, but there could be something else for him in the offing.”

  “What else is there?”

  “Think about that for a minute.”

  Stone thought about it. “No!” he said after a moment.

  “Why not?”

  “The VP slot on the ticket?”

  “Why not?”

  “Lance would hate that—there’s no power involved.”

  “How about if he were VP, but were given the whole national intelligence system to play with?”

  Stone thought.

  “And after that . . .”

  “Oh, God, Lance for President?”

  “I’m just guessing, but he’d only be VP for four years.”

  “Do you think he would take it?”

  “Do you think Lance could possibly see himself as President?”

  “I’ve no doubt of it,” Stone said. “And you’d replace him at the Agency?”

  “Possibly.”

  “But then I’d never see you again.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “You mean, like now—a couple of times a year?”

  “We could do better than that.”

  “How?”

  “The country might like it better if the director of central intelligence were a stable married woman.”

  “You mean, instead of a wild and crazy single woman?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “But you couldn’t live in New York or any of those other places where I’ve gone into the housing business.”

  “Well, not all the time.”

  “Now I get it,” Stone said, “you want me to move to Washington.”

  “Or the Virginia suburbs.”

  “That is a breathtakingly bad idea,” Stone said, shivering.

  “I’m sorry you think so.”

  “It’s not personal.”

  “Oh, then what is it?”

  “I’m not sure I could make that sacrifice, even for my country.”

  “Could you make it for me?” she asked.

  “I think my offer is the better one,” Stone said.

  She said nothing.

  “Well?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  39

  STONE, uncharacteristically, didn’t sleep well. He was out cold for about an hour, then he jerked awake. The Virginia suburbs? Waiting for Holly to come home from work every day? The thought made the rest of his night nearly sleepless, whereas Holly remained exquisitely somnambulant. A marriage proposal was an extremely rare event for both of them, but it didn’t keep her awake.

  The next morning she began packing, and he was surprised at how much stuff she had.

  “Why don’t you leave some things here?”

  “Why?”

  “So that when you come back, you won’t have to bring so much stuff.”

  “Now, Stone, be realistic. You know you don’t want a lady’s things hanging in the guest closet, for all the world to see.”

  “All the world?”

  “All right, just the other ladies.”

  “There aren’t any other ladies.”

  “At the moment,” she said. “But before I land in Washington there’ll be somebody new scratching at your door.”

  “You wound me.”

  “Nonsense. We both know who you are.”

  “Are you saying I would be an unfaithful husband?”

  “Certainly not. If I thought so for a moment, I’d poison your bourbon. But, an unfaithful fiancé . . . ?”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say. When I was married to Arrington I was absolutely faithful.”

  “I accept that, though it wasn’t for very long, was it? Your engagement, I mean.”

  “She was living here.”

  “Well, that would cramp your style a little. I, however, would not be living here—if we were betrothed.”

  “I hate that word.”

  “I’m not surprised. I don’t like it very much myself, I was just making a point.”

  The phone rang, and Stone didn’t wait for Joan to get it. “Hello?”

  “How about the Boathouse restaurant in Central Park, one o’clock? I’ll book.” It was Will Lee.

  “Okay. If you’re going back today, there’s somebody here who’d like to catch a ride.”

  “I can do that. Have him meet me at the East Side Heliport at four o’clock.”

  “I’ll tell him.” He hung up. “You’re to meet Will at the East Side Heliport at four o’clock.”

  “Perfect. On the way down I can feel him out about getting back to my job.”

  “What are you going to do until four?”

  “I’ll do a little shopping and catch some lunch somewhere. There’s a nice restaurant at Barneys.”

  Stone gathered her into his arms and kissed her. “I was perfectly serious last night.”

  “Last night? I thought that was a dream.”

  “You have to learn to distinguish your dreams from reality.”

  “I do that at work, not in your bed.”

  “And when will you be back in my bed?”

  “Probably not until I’ve achieved world peace.”

  “Swell.”

  “But my failure to do so shouldn’t keep you out of my bed.”

  Stone let it go at that.

  —

  HE TOOK A cab up to Central Park, got out at Seventy-Second and Fifth, and walked over to the boat lake. He looked around the restaurant and saw only one man alone at a table.

  “He’s keeping it warm for us,” Will said from behind him.

  They shook hands and walked over to the table. The Secret Service agent made himself scarce, but stayed within easy reach. Nobody seemed to notice a former President in their midst. Must be the casual clothes, Stone thought.

  They ordered lunch and a bottle of chardonnay.

  “So, how have the last couple of weeks gone?” Will asked.

  “They’ve been very strange.”

  “Did you enjoy your time with Ed Rawls?”

  “Actually, he was a little more companionable than he has been in the past.”

  “He’s back at his house in Virginia,” Will said, taking a sip of his wine.

  “Did his wife leave it to him?”

  “He never gave it to her, just lifetime occupancy, and her lease has expired. He was hunkered down for a week or so, but now he’s living there quite openly.”

  “I don’t get it—he seemed fearful in Maine, especially after they burned down his house.”

  “He’s already started rebuilding it.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “His attitude, I guess. As far as I can tell, nothing else has.”

  “He’s still got the strong case?”

  “I don’t see him ditching it, do you?”

  “He had a cellar next to his Maine house with all his files in it, until he set off an incendiary device.”

  “Well, that’s news,” Will said. “Maybe that made him feel more devil-may-care.”

  “Do you think he’s in any real danger?”

  “He doesn’t seem to thinks so, and I guess that’s all that matters.”

  “What’s on 60 Minutes tonight?”

  “A last-minute programming change—they’re going to spend the whole hour introducing Nelson Knott to all the people who normally sleep in the wee hours.”

  “I thought h
is whole business plan was based on insomnia.”

  “Until now. He’s making his evening debut, so to speak. I want to hear what he says when they ask him if he’s thinking of running for office.”

  “Why else would they give him the hour?”

  “I’ve heard a rumor that Christian St. Clair may be making a bid for CBS News. Maybe they don’t want to piss him off.” Will took another sip of his wine.

  “Is this his first big move, then?”

  “No, his first big move was a luncheon last week for ten high rollers at your club on the East Side.”

  “How’d he do?”

  “Word is, four of them have promised to start a PAC with a hundred million dollars each, and a couple of the others are leaning that way.”

  “Times have changed, haven’t they, since twenty of us put up a million each to get Kate started?”

  “Times have certainly changed.”

  “Is Kate worried about Knott?”

  “No, Kate’s not a worrier, but I am. I mean, we can match his fund-raising, but there’s never been an independent candidate with that kind of war chest at the outset. I find it scary, especially since he’s got St. Clair for a sponsor. Christian loves nothing better than a puppet, and this one’s going to be the most expensive one ever put together.”

  “How does the strong case play into all this?”

  “Hard to say. What’s important is that Christian thinks it’s important.”

  “Is it all about the pardons?”

  “At least partly.”

  “I’m sorry I ever asked you to pardon Teddy Fay.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “What I don’t understand is why Ed Rawls would do something that might undermine Kate. He owes her a lot, or rather, owes you a lot.”

  “I have my own theory about that, but it’s just a theory.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I believe Ed thinks that what’s in the strong case would help Kate, and what’s more, I believe Christian St. Clair thinks so, too.”

  “Perhaps we’ll know more tonight.”

  “Perhaps.” They finished their wine, and Stone chose to walk home while Will went east, toward his chopper.

  40

  THE HOUSE SEEMED ODDLY EMPTY; Holly was gone, and the staff were out or at home in Stone’s second house next door. He found a book that he had left unread for weeks and plowed into it.

  —

  IN THE EARLY evening he went upstairs and asked Helene to send his supper up in the dumbwaiter, then he got into a nightshirt and switched on 60 Minutes.

  Martin Shawn, who he had read was near retirement, conducted the interview with Nelson Knott. The show opened with a helicopter tour of his Virginia estate, then Shawn was greeted on the front porch by the Knotts for a tour of the house. Finally, the two men settled into comfortable chairs before a cheery fireplace in a large library, bursting with books.

  Shawn got right to the point. “Mr. Knott, there have been strong and persistent rumors that you are considering a run for President. Anything to them?”

  Knott smiled. “There is usually something to a strong and persistent rumor, isn’t there?”

  “Then you’re considering a run?”

  “I am. I haven’t made a final decision yet, but I seem to be thinking about it more and more.”

  “Have you been thinking about your qualifications?”

  “I’ve been thinking about my qualifications since high school.”

  “And you think you’re ready to be commander in chief?”

  “At first, I just read a lot, especially about American history. For about the past decade I’ve been engaged in an intensive, personal quest to learn everything I can about foreign and domestic policy, and I’ve devoted a good deal of time to military history and current thinking. I think I’m probably better prepared for high office than anyone in this country who hasn’t made a career of politics, and a great many who have.”

  “If you’re interested in the presidency, why haven’t you made a career of politics, worked your way up through elected office?”

  “Because I think that the Senate, and to an even greater extent the House, produces too many people who think they’re ready to be President, and not nearly enough who really are ready. The real work there is done by staff, and the elected members spend most of their time raising money for their next election. They have too little time to read, to study in depth, and to think. I made myself financially secure by building a company in my youth, so I’ve been able to set aside time to study and to learn from people who’ve been there and done that, whereas most businesspeople just devote themselves to making more money they don’t really need.”

  “How do you divide your time?”

  “I start at eight AM with a staff meeting to review the products we’re offering that day on television, then I have some lunch and spend my afternoon reading or studying policy. Around midnight I review what I have to say on our nightly television program, then I go on air, and afterward read some more.”

  “And when do you sleep?”

  “I have a peculiar lack of a need for deep sleep. It’s genetic—my father was the same way. I don’t sleep more than a couple of hours a night, though I catch a catnap or two during the day. Since I’m in excellent physical condition, I’m able to devote myself to a much longer workday than anyone I know. My business staff is divided into day and night people, and I have another staff that is devoted entirely to researching policy and political issues. If I should run for President and win, that group would form the core of a White House staff, and they’d be ready to go on day one, as would I.”

  They talked on, then came to the end of part one of the program, and Shawn announced that they would continue the program from Knott’s Washington, D.C., offices.

  Then the third part moved to Knott’s New York City apartment.

  Near the end Shawn put another question to Knott. “What do you think of the performance of Katharine Lee in office?”

  “Between the Lees, I’m a bigger fan of her husband’s presidency. I think the current President Lee is too caught up in intelligence matters, having spent her working life at the CIA, and she’s not nearly as good on domestic matters. Her husband helps out with that, of course, but he’s very rightly enjoying his new son and his retirement.”

  “And you think you could do a better job than Katharine Lee as President?”

  Knott laughed. “If I didn’t think that, I wouldn’t even be considering a run.”

  “And why are you forming a new party, instead of running as either a Republican or a Democrat?”

  “I’ve never been strongly attracted to either party. I’m fairly liberal on social issues and conservative on fiscal policy. I’m not an ideologue, I’m a pragmatist, and I believe in what works. Also, Katharine Lee is assured of her party’s nomination, so there’s no room for me in the Democratic Party, and the Republican Party is so exhausted from the last election and are such hidebound ideologues that I wouldn’t fit in there. There isn’t an existing party that has any real standing, so starting from scratch seems the best way to the general election.”

  “That route has never worked before,” Shawn pointed out.

  “We’ve never had quite the same conditions before,” Knott replied evenly. “Also, there’s never been a candidate with roots in broadcasting. If I run I’ll produce a number of hour-long films that will explain exactly what my policy goals are across the policy spectrum. They’ll be available online, and people can watch them at their own pace and as many times as they wish.”

  “It sounds like a tutorial,” Shawn said.

  “A tutorial on what I believe, what I know, and what I plan to do.”

  The program ended, and Stone was surprised to find that he had been impressed. His meeting with Knott on St. Clair’s
yacht had been brief, but now he knew a great deal more.

  His phone rang. “Hello?”

  It was Will Lee. “What did you think of Mr. Knott?”

  “Well, he was very nice to you, wasn’t he?”

  Will laughed. “Come on, what did you think?”

  “I was impressed, when I hadn’t expected to be. I think he did a very good job of presenting himself as somebody who might make a good President.”

  “I’m really sorry to hear that, because it confirms my own judgment,” Will said. “I think Mr. Knott is going to be a formidable candidate.”

  “Do you think Kate can beat him?”

  “Yes, but she’s going to have to take a fresh look at the campaign and how it’s going to work, and she’s going to have to anticipate his every move and counter it.”

  “She’ll be on the defensive, then?”

  “Every candidate for reelection is on the defensive—that’s the nature of the beast.”

  “I don’t know what I can do to help,” Stone said, “but please know that I’ll do whatever I’m asked.”

  “You’ve already proven that with your help on this strong case thing, Stone. It’s not your fault that we’ve lost control of the situation.”

  “How do we get control back?”

  “I’m not sure that we can, but I’m thinking about it. If I come up with something and you can help, I’ll let you know.”

  The two men said goodbye and hung up.

  41

  STONE SPENT THE NEXT DAY with a feeling of unease. It disturbed him that he had been so easily impressed, when he thought of himself as a skeptic. If he could be swayed, why not a great many others? The idea of Kate having to leave office without a second term was painful to him.

  Late in the afternoon, his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Stone, it’s Ed Rawls.”

  “What a surprise,” Stone said wryly. “Are you enjoying being back in your own home?”

  “I’m impressed that you know that.”

  “I think everybody who wants to know probably now knows. I hear you’re rebuilding your Islesboro house, too.”

  “There’s only been one phone call on that subject, and that makes me wonder how you know.”

 

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