The President’s Bitch

by Andy King

“Shoulda.” He’s sulking.

  I suppress an urge to giggle, now giddy. It’s bad form, I know, but my adrenaline high is rocking me.

  We drive ten minutes in silence. My pulse starts to slow.

  Jack’s wrestling with his fury. He points. “Right at that light, then pull over in that shopping center.”

  Anna grins at him. She obviously loves her big brother and would follow him anywhere, do anything he says. I’m touched by their bond.

  We’re now in a suburban neighborhood, infested with sleek, gleaming sedans, monster pickups and SUVs. Anna finds a space in the steel terrarium, burrowing among the beasts.

  Jack turns around. “All right, you’re free,” he says gruffly. “What’s next?”

  20

  Jack

  It takes everything I have not to grab Anna and throw her in the back seat, too, get behind the wheel and speed off to a safe place. Wherever that might be. After fighting off the muggers, being responsible for both Cheri and Anna is driving me insane.

  I scan the cars and trucks around us. We’re probably incognito. I’ve got to control myself. My blood pressure and pulse seem lower, but I’m still gulping air like I’ve been in a firefight. Must. Slow. Down. And don’t hyperventilate.

  Cheri’s mission is the most important thing in the world right now. I’ve got to honor rank, obey my commanding officer. I watch her think it through, her head thrown back, eyes shut.

  She pops her eyes open and looks at me. “How many phones do you have?”

  “I’ve got two.”

  “I’ve got one,” Anna chirps.

  “Yours, please.” Cheri holds out her hand. Anna proudly gives her the phone.

  Cheri punches a number. “Hope this works.”

  “Let me speak to Director Jefferson, this is the President,” she says.

  Evidently the person puts her on hold.

  She looks at us. “Hope he takes my call from an unknown number.”

  “This is actually the President. What’s your name?” she says into the phone. “All right Barry, I’m going to give you five seconds. As you know we’re in the middle of a national emergency. I’m calling on an alternate number. Get Josh on the line, now!”

  God, she can dish it out when she wants to. I’d hate to be the guy on the other end.

  One of her eyebrows goes up. “Josh, sorry to break security but it can’t be helped. What? Oh, I decided to go into hiding. Yes, I’m safe.” She looks at me with a quick smile. “Here’s what I need.”

  My eyes go wide, then wider, as she explains her idea. It’s outrageous, but we’re in the middle of something that’s never happened. I glance at Anna, who looks astonished, too.

  Cheri outlines an audacious plan that has me reeling. She wants to surgically bomb CentCom, the United States Central Command, using bombers from MacDill Air Force Base where CentCom is located. Employing JSOC teams from SoCom, Special Operations Command, also at MacDill, backed up by satellite feeds from StratCom in Nebraska, she hopes to first pry the bombers loose, then send the ground teams in after the bombing to physically wrest control from the renegade forces currently under Nick MacElvain’s command. Since the bombers are part of the 6th Air Mobility Wing, technically under Air Force General Jordan Perez, it might work.

  “Can you get me on a conference call? You, Jordan, Art Feinberg at SoCom and Pete Nichols at StratCom? I need Tom Shelby to keep holding down the fort, commanding real-time military operations.”

  She pulls the phone away an inch and stares at me, then Anna. “You understand that you can never tell anyone about this. Ever.”

  I’m impressed by her encyclopedic knowledge of the military command structure, and a little surprised that she wants to go forward that quickly. A lot can go wrong. She’s going to need tremendous luck to pull it off. And there’s no question that people are going to die.

  It’s essentially civil war, and she didn’t start it. She stares out the window, thinking, gathering her strength. Her eyes swing to me and she smiles. My toes go warm.

  “Thanks for standing by me,” she says.

  “It’s my duty, and you’re my wife.”

  I feel Anna’s doubletake and glance over. “I asked and she said yes.” Now all we have to do is live through this.

  Cheri holds up a hand. “Art, Pete, Jordan, thanks for taking my call,” she says. “Josh has given you a sketch?”

  She walks them through her idea, taking note of their objections and laying out her counterarguments. Once it sounds like everybody’s on the same page, she listens to their suggestions and asks questions. She’s got to be hearing some of the concepts for the first time and working them into her strategy as she goes along. I shake my head.

  Suddenly I remember. Angeline’s probably still driving around. I whip out my phone and call her. Without disclosing our position I ask her to park on a side street on the other side of the shopping center where I can see her. I don’t know if either of our phones are being monitored. It’s best to take precautions right now.

  Anna lifts her finger, right in Cheri’s face. I push Anna’s hand down, but she gives me a vexed look and raises her other hand.

  Cheri’s eyes flick to Anna. “Hold on, Art. Yes?”

  “I’ve been listening and I think you’ll have better luck if you send people in before the bombs. Like spies.”

  Cheri stares, then swallows. “Good idea.” She relays Anna’s thought to the team on the phone. After some discussion, evidently they agree.

  I blink. “Where did that come from?” I whisper to Anna.

  “Choreography,” she says simply. Then she grins. “And spy novels.”

  Nothing my sister comes up would surprise me at this point. I make a mental note to listen more closely to her in the future. If there is a future. We could all be in prison tomorrow. Or worse.

  “That puzzle you asked me about?” Anna says. “I thought of something.”

  Cheri’s still on the phone, so I nod to say I’m listening.

  “From what you told me, the only way somebody could have convinced an agent or staff person to do something like that is if they approached them a long time ago, like a year. It would take time to convince them.”

  My mouth pulls to the side. She’s right. I need to tell Cheri. We wait for her to wrap up the call. Since things aren’t over ‘til they’re over, I check my weapon.

  Eventually Cheri hangs up. “There’s nothing more to do for now,” she says. “I’d love to go to NSA headquarters, but it’s all the way up at Fort Meade. Too many roadblocks. I’m hungry, what about you two?”

  “It’s too risky to get out of the car. We’re safer right here,” I say. “I called Angeline, and she’s parked over there.” I wave a hand vaguely. “Let me ask her to get us something.”

  Angeline agrees in a heartbeat. I tell her to park where she is when she gets back, and text me. She pulls away to forage for food.

  Cheri looks at Anna. “Could you get the food from Angeline, sort of take the long way around when she gets back?”

  Anna bobs her head up and down. She’s completely into the spy vs. spy narrative now. Eyes gleaming, she says, “Can I ever tell anybody I met you?”

  “When we get out of this, of course. We’ll get to know each other better.” Cheri’s tone is practically maternal.

  The joy I feel from having the two most important people in my life together is indescribable.

  “You know, I’m real uncomfortable with all of this going on and me not having a command post,” Cheri says.

  I glance at her. It’s only been a couple of days since we met, but by now I’d know that look anywhere. She’s already plotting.

  “We can’t go to NSA, and we definitely can’t go back to the White House,” I say.

  “I’ve got a full command center aboard Air Force One.”

  “But I thought the whole idea was to stay away from Andrews, they’ll be looking for you there.”

  “The idea was to disappear, stay away fro
m Camp David and Air Force One, and throw out a huge question: where is she? We’ve done that, and thanks to Anna, we’ve gotten away with it.”

  Anna beams. I’d give anything to put a smile like that on Cheri’s face.

  “What if we’re intercepted getting onto the plane?” I ask. “At this point, MacElvain’s got to be frantic. He might do something crazy.” At this point, I’m frantic, because it sounds like Cheri wants to do something crazy.

  She has a cat-ate-the-canary look on her face. “They can’t know which plane.”

  My eyebrows dive together. Then I remember that Air Force One is actually two different 747s, two jets for security. One of them is probably primed and ready to go on the runway, waiting for the President to appear.

  Cheri lifts Anna’s phone and punches a number, then smiles at Anna. “Want to go for a plane ride?”

  21

  Cheri

  It’s such a simple idea. Wish I’d thought of it sooner. When I overheard Anna’s quip about spy novels, it got my imagination running.

  “Hey Carm, still at Andrews?”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  “Safe. I can’t stay on this call more than twenty seconds. Your phone’s probably compromised. Give me Susan’s number.”

  Carmel relays it. I call back and Carm answers.

  “Gonna make this quick, too,” I say. “Which plane is ready, twenty-eight or twenty-nine?”

  “Twenty-nine.”

  “Get twenty-eight ready to go, too. Don’t tell the crews we’re switching until the last second. Call me back on this number from a less obvious phone. Can’t take chances, gotta go.” I tap off immediately. God knows, they could have Susan’s phone tapped, too.

  Angeline texts Jack. It would be a shame not to let her in on the fun after everything she’s done for me. I smile at Anna. “Tell her if she doesn’t mind leaving her car for a day, she can come back and go with us. Don’t take long, we’ve got to get going.”

  Anna’s grin says she gets it. She leaves to collect Angeline and the food. Carmel calls back. I give her more complete instructions, but she’s pretty much ahead of me. For about the twenty thousandth time, I’m thankful to have her in my life.

  My mood is a lot better since I decided to hop on Air Force One. “Well honey, we’re almost there,” I say to Jack.

  He shakes his head. “Not exactly. There are so many ifs. If we actually manage to get on the plane and fly out, your scenario about what happens down at MacDill has a ton of holes in it.”

  “Yeah, we’ve got to be lucky. But I’ve found in this business the old saying helps a lot: ‘assume the best and plan for the worst.’”

  He grimaces and looks out the window, then turns back to me. “What’s in it for him, MacElvain? The risk is enormous.”

  I’ve thought about it, having had an inkling that Mac might start something. I never thought it would be this off the charts, but I agreed with Stu when we discussed the Cabinet after being elected: never trust Nick MacElvain, he’s a wolverine.

  “I think he hates me because of my race and maybe my gender. He might not hate me, but he’s afraid of me and everything I represent, especially change. A darker-skinned country is inevitable. It’s a source of pride for some, and a source of fear for many.” I have a weak grin. “One of life’s little ambiguities.”

  “But a coup? That’s a huge gamble.”

  “He can’t help it. He’s probably been lusting after power for a long time. You know, he was a senator years ago. His political base was too narrow, he couldn’t go any further. Now that he’s had a taste of being at the top, he’ll do almost anything to keep it. I’ve got to admit I’ve felt like that, too—until reality crashes in. Then you’ve got nowhere to go and no one to turn to. It’s overwhelming.”

  Jack thinks about that. “There’s nothing like massive power,” he says.

  “There’s nothing like ultimate blame, either. Saying you get a sinking feeling when one of your decisions turns to shit is putting it mildly. It’s literal hell. You want to wind back the clock and say ‘no thank you, find someone else to do this.’”

  We don’t say anything for a few minutes, lost in the questions that have plagued me for a year.

  “I asked Anna to think about the mole in the White House,” he says. “She pointed out that the bad guys would have had to start working on this a long time ago.”

  I sigh. “Probably a year ago, when Stu was killed. Maybe even before.” I remember a couple of shreds of conversation. Some clues drop into place. “A lot of things make sense now.” There’s something else, but it’s not clear. “I’ll ask Josh to trace it back when this is over.”

  We stop talking again, lost in what-ifs, and on my part, self-recrimination about those times in the last year when I had to call a wife or mother and express my deep sorrow and regret. I slump forward, my shoulders heavy. Rarely given to second-guessing myself, I still wonder about my decisions sometimes. Often I bounce things off Carmel, who’s never at a loss for an opinion.

  Jack has never wavered, never faltered, either. He made me check my feelings and commit, true to himself, heart and soul. And the way he talked about Anna earlier was so endearing, I could never walk away.

  A few minutes later, Anna and Angeline waltz up, bearing white paper bags. The smell of coffee hits my nose as soon as they get in the car.

  “Caffeine first,” I say. Angeline hands me a Styrofoam cup.

  I chug down half of it, not caring about the heat. I only got two or three hours of sleep, and even though it’s happened many times, I never get used to it. Part of the weariness is from lack of rest, but most of it is from the military action I’ve put in motion. I can’t help but flash back to a portrait of Lincoln, dour and fatigued. As the second President to be forced into a civil war, I feel the weight. It’s the worst thing in the world, committing countryman against countryman.

  The others divvy up the food. I accept some bacon and toast. I know I’ve got to eat to keep up my strength, but I’m not interested, in the grip of deep unease. A lonely train’s horn blows somewhere. My hand stops halfway to my mouth. It’s been years since I’ve heard one. For a second I’m young again, rifle in my hand. I look at Jack from the corner of my eye, smile inside and sit straight.

  When everybody’s done, I ask Anna to take a winding route to Joint Base Andrews. We’re not that far away. It turns out that Angeline has the best grasp of the back roads around here. She takes over giving Anna directions. I feel just as safe in their hands as I normally do with a full complement of Secret Service around. We reach the gates of the base in good time. Now for the first challenge.

  Before Jack can stop me I jump out of the car, flip off my hat and walk up to the guard. His jaw drops.

  I point at the runway, far in the distance. “I’ve got a plane to catch, soldier. I’m in a hurry, so let’s dispense with formalities.” I feel Jack looming behind me, restraining himself from grabbing me and dragging me back to the safety of the vehicle.

  The guard’s mouth is open. He glances at Jack. His eyes flick left and right. “Yes, ma’am.” He runs back to the guard station. We quickly walk to the car as the crossbar goes up.

  Anna drives past the gate. I smirk at Jack. He scowls back, and wisely keeps his peace.

  The planes are a couple of hundred yards from each other. I spot some people lingering, not too far from twenty-nine thousand. One is on a phone and a couple have broken away toward twenty-eight, following the embarking crew.

  “Pull up at the plane with twenty-eight thousand on the tail,” I say to Anna. “I’ll ask them to stash your car. We need to hurry.”

  Jack’s got his gun out, covering us. We’re on the plane in a minute. The door closes without incident. I give the order to take off. The co-pilot relays that the pilot wants to know where we’re going.

  I march to the cockpit. “South. I’ll give you a more definite idea soon. I know you always look out for my safety, but it’s doubly important for t
his flight. Let me know if the slightest question comes up.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  I walk back to the cabin, keeping a blank face. Inwardly I have a fierce grin. Mac wants a fight, fine. I’m taking it to him. Eye-to-eye, hand-to-hand. Coup, my ass.

  22

  Cheri

  Jack wants my attention, but I need to huddle with Carmel. I’m gearing up for the hunt.

  I give him the most loving look I can muster. “I’ve got to run through some stuff. Tell you what you can do for me. Get Josh on the line and get up to speed yourself on how things look in terms of combat. It’s probably coming soon. You know where the command center is?”

  He nods and heads aft.

  Sliding into the seat next to Carm, I lean in. “I’m going back there in a minute and we’re going to finish this thing. I need to know something. You always shoot straight with me, so tell me. Am I doing the right thing here?”

  “I’m not up to speed on what you’re doing. You’ve been a whirlwind since all this started.”

  I tell her my plan in quick strokes, Special Ops teams freeing up bombers and raiding MacElvain’s command post while the bombers make a surgical strike on the communications infrastructure.

  She stares at me, incredulous. “You dreamed that up?”

  “Not by myself. You know me, steal from the best.”

  “You don’t usually roll the dice that hard.”

  “Sometimes you gotta. Speaking of which, what about Jack? My heart says yes.”

  Carmel takes her time. I can almost feel her delicately place the weight on one side of the balance scale, countering it with mass on the other side.

  “He’s hypnotized by your damn charisma, Cheri. I don’t mean that in a bad way. I said you need somebody in your life. And yeah, I think he’s a good guy. Whether he’s the one for you, only time will tell.”

  I lay my head back on the headrest, giving it a minute, breathing slowly. Carm is my best mirror. It might be a cliché, but she’s right—only time will tell.

  Leaning back to her, I say, “They’re probably about ready now, let’s go.” I hoist myself out of my seat and trudge to the command center, Carmel following.