by Stuart Woods
“I think Peter’s housewarming would be better—more intimate,” Kate said. “Too much backslapping going on at the gala, too much flesh to press.”
“We’ll leave the gala for a backup, then,” Stone said. “I’ll see that we sit in the same box—that will cut the crowd down enough for us to have a word.”
“These things have a way of working out,” Kate said, “if we work hard enough to make them happen.”
They were seated at half a dozen tables by the pool, having served themselves from the buffet, when Stone looked up and saw two Secret Service agents where they had not been before. Then there was another pair, and another. Kate affected not to notice, but Will Lee crooked a finger at Mervin Beam, and he approached the table. They exchanged whispers, then Beam walked around the area with another agent.
“Everything all right?” Stone asked the president, who was sitting across the table from him.
“I think so,” Will replied quietly. “If there are any further concerns, they’ll move us inside.” He quickly changed the subject. “By the way, Stone, you recall the drone strike we watched together at the Carlyle a few weeks ago?”
“How could I forget that?”
“We’ve confirmed since that our effort was successful with all six of the subjects.”
“Congratulations. I hope you don’t have to take any heat for that.”
“You know, during World War Two, we and the British killed tens of thousands of civilians during bombing raids on strategic targets in Europe—and a hundred thousand in Tokyo in a single night—and though people thought civilian raids were regrettable, they understood the reason for them. Now, when a terrorist’s wife or child become collateral damage, there’s an uproar.”
“When an active terrorist hides in the bosom of his family, he’s responsible for putting them at risk, isn’t he?” Stone asked.
“My view exactly,” Will said. “Unstopped, those men would have been responsible for hundreds of deaths in Middle Eastern and European cities, and perhaps some in this country. While I’m still in office, I’ll keep hunting them down.”
—
AS THE TABLE was being cleared, Beam approached the president again and whispered. Will spoke up. “You know, it’s beginning to be a little chilly in this desert air, why don’t we have dessert in the house?”
Stone herded the group inside, and they settled around the big living room while waiters served them dessert. Will came and sat next to Stone.
“You know, I took that e-mail to Beam more seriously than Kate did. I’m not sure what it was, but something in that message raised the hair on the back of my neck.”
“I’ll certainly trust your instincts, Will,” Stone said. “Nothing wrong with being cautious.”
“Kate can be a little too cavalier about these things,” the president said.
The party broke up around ten, and the Lees’ group walked back to the presidential cottage.
“We’ve got to go, too, Dad,” Peter said when they had gone. “This is an early town, you know.”
“I’ve heard that,” Stone said.
Peter handed him a card. “This is the address. It’s a couple of blocks off Sunset. Come at six.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Stone said.
The kids said their good nights and left, then Stone ordered after-dinner drinks for his guests. Billy and Betsy Burnett stayed on for a drink.
“What was that about?” Dino asked. “The thing with the Secret Service?”
“They got a death threat on Kate e-mailed to them last night,” Stone said. “I expect it was something to do with that, but at least nobody had to draw a weapon.”
“What we need,” Dino said, “is a secret method for instantly determining the location that any e-mail is sent from.”
“It’s being worked on,” Mike Freeman said, “but don’t expect to read about it in the papers. The political climate isn’t good right now for new intelligence initiatives.”
“I’m happy for them to read my e-mails and track my phone calls,” Stone said. “We live in a new and dangerous world, and it’s not going to stop anytime soon.”
“I wish I could disagree with you,” Mike said.
“How did your security meeting go today?” Stone asked.
“The Democrats are going to have the most secure convention in history,” Mike replied. “And Staples Center is going to be the most wired and camera-ready venue ever. Not to mention the shoe leather on the ground.”
“Sounds good to me,” Stone said.
“We’re going to have a new shield system in operation,” Mike said. “We press a button and a two-inch-thick bulletproof glass wall will rise from the floor to a height of ten feet and protects about the central third of the stage. If you see that coming up, you’ll know there’s a very real threat.”
“Do the candidates know about that?” Stone asked.
“The Secret Service is certainly in on it—whether they’ll share it with the candidates is up to them, but it will certainly go up when the nominee and the president speak.”
“Very good.”
“Where are your convention seats?” Mike asked Stone.
“I’ve got a skybox,” Stone replied. “Remember? You helped me get it.”
“So you have,” Mike said. “From there, it will be like watching the world’s largest flat-screen TV.”
“And we can turn down the noise during the demonstrations on the floor. That’s the part of conventions that has always bored me rigid.”
“And the glass window in your box will be the same as for the platform shield,” Mike said.
“That’s very comforting,” Stone replied. “You’ll have to join us.”
“I’ll be in our control center,” Mike said, “or patrolling the floor with a handheld radio.”
“We’ll wave,” Stone said.
—
LATER, AS BILLY and Betsy were leaving, Billy called Stone aside. “I have some thoughts about that e-mail sent to the Secret Service office,” he said.
“Tell me.”
“It’s an inside job.”
“Why do you think so?”
“No one on the outside would even know of the existence of that e-mail address, but if there are half a dozen insiders who know about it, then there’s a very good chance others in the office know about it, too.”
“You have a very good point, Billy.”
“I’d be willing to bet that if they can trace the e-mail back to one computer, it will turn out to be one in their offices.”
“Then I hope they trace it back soon,” Stone said, “because they’re very short of time.”
Stone woke early, before Ann, who slept on. When he came out of the shower she was up and dressing.
“I’ve got one hell of a day today,” she said. “Kate has nine appointments, and I have to be with her at every one.”
“Peter and Ben are having a housewarming tonight—I hope you’ll be able to go. It starts early, six o’clock.” He wrote down the address for her. “It’s a left turn off Sunset, the other side of I-405.”
“If we can keep to our schedule, Kate will be finished at four-thirty, but don’t count on it. I’ll call you when I’m on my way.”
“Sounds good. Listen, is Kate really not concerned about the death threat?”
“Every time something like that happens, she brushes it off,” Ann said, “but in her heart of hearts, who knows?”
“Not even her husband, apparently. He says she’s cavalier about threats.”
Ann laughed. “That’s a good description. I’m going to let the Secret Service worry about it.”
“Right, let them get between Kate and a bullet.”
“I’m like Kate, I don’t want to think about it.”
“I’ll see you tonight somet
ime,” Stone said, and she was gone.
—
STONE WAS HAVING lunch by the pool when Peter called. “The governor has accepted our invitation,” he said, “but he’ll probably have to leave early. He has a lot on his plate, what with all the Democrats in town.”
“I won’t take much of his time.”
“I’ll try to see that you get a few minutes alone.”
“Thanks, Peter. I’ll see you tonight.”
—
STONE LEFT THE Arrington in one of their Porsche Cayenne SUVs with a driver, instead of in a Bentley, and they drove out Sunset Boulevard to Amalfi Drive and turned left. Stone told the driver to be back at eight o’clock, then he rang the buzzer at the front gate and was let in.
He walked into some of the most beautiful gardens he had ever seen. It always astonished Stone how things would grow in the desert soil as long as there was enough water, and clearly, there was enough water for this.
He walked up a path to a good-sized shingled house, and he could see another one very much like it next door. That would be Ben’s, he reckoned. He was met at the door by Billy Burnett, who seemed to be exercising his security role.
“Good evening, Stone,” Billy said, shaking his hand.
“How are you, Billy?”
“Very well, thank you. I didn’t get a chance last night to thank you personally for your role in getting me the pardon,” Billy said. “It’s already made a big difference in my life. For the first time in many years, I can own a house.”
“Where did you buy?”
“One street over from here. My property is much smaller, of course, but it backs up on Peter’s property, and he’s installed a gate for easy access.”
“I feel better knowing you’re nearby,” Stone said. “For future reference, I’ve been warned that the Russians in Paris have not forgotten about me. Yuri Majorov had a brother, Yevgeny, who seems to have taken over his position in that organization.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“There’s been no specific threat, just a heads-up from Lance Cabot. I’ll certainly be in touch if I hear anything else.”
“Thank you. A part of me is accustomed to always being on guard,” Billy said. A waiter appeared with a glass of Knob Creek.
Peter walked in with Hattie and greeted him just as the doorbell rang again. Billy went to answer it and came back with the governor of California, Richard Collins. A plainclothes officer hovered on the edge of the room.
Collins greeted everyone warmly, and a waiter brought him a drink on a silver tray. “I’m nearly the first here,” he said to Stone. “Good to see you again. It’s been a long time since San Francisco. My condolences on the death of your wife.”
“Thank you, Governor. Would you like to sit down for a minute before the others arrive?”
“Use my study,” Peter said, then led the way to a smaller room lined with bookcases. The two men took chairs in front of a fireplace, where a small blaze had been kindled.
“From everything I’m reading,” Stone said, “your first term is going extremely well.”
“Amazing the things you can get done when you have a majority in both houses,” Collins said. “And Jerry Brown had the goodness to clean up the budget problem before I got in.”
“I wanted to get your views on how the nominating process is going,” Stone said.
“It’s fascinating, isn’t it, what Kate Lee is doing? I had my doubts at first, but I’m beginning to think she just might pull it off.”
“Well, Martin Stanton has been a big help.”
Collins laughed heartily. “Yes, Marty can be his own worst enemy. He’s my friend, though, and I owe him my support for as long as he’s in the race.”
“Of course you do, and I know that Kate understands that. She’ll feel differently on a second ballot, though.”
“If there’s a second ballot, then we’re in a whole new ball game,” Collins said. “And believe me, Marty knows that. It’s a shame that someone with so much talent for politics and governing can risk it all for a roll in the hay. He was a terrific state legislator and governor.”
“And a very good vice president,” Stone said. “It has occurred to some folks that those talents might serve him well in the United States Senate.”
Collins’s eyes narrowed, and he smiled. “Oh, I think Marty would be good in any office in the land.”
“Especially one with four years left in the term,” Stone pointed out. “And I’m sure it would ease his mind to know that a soft landing is available, should the balloting at the convention not go his way.”
“I’m going to take my time making that appointment,” Collins said, “even though there are all sorts of people already scratching at my office door.”
“I think you should certainly take your time . . . making that announcement,” Stone said. “After all, timing is everything.”
“Did you know, Stone, that Eleanor Stockman was taken off her respirator this afternoon about three o’clock?”
“No, I hadn’t heard that. I haven’t had the TV on today.”
“And she died about an hour ago,” Collins said. “The announcement is being made about now.” He looked at his watch. “Just in time for the six o’clock news.” The vibrating of a cell phone could be heard on the governor’s person. He took out an iPhone and looked at it. “The deluge has already begun,” he said. “I’m glad it’s not Kate on the phone.” He held down two buttons at once and switched it off.
“I don’t expect you’ll hear from her on the subject,” Stone said.
“But it certainly makes our conversation pertinent, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose it does,” Stone said.
“Can you guess who that was on the phone?” the governor asked.
“It would be impertinent of me to try,” Stone replied.
The governor laughed and polished off his drink. “Well, I suppose I’d better get in there and say hello to some folks.” He stood up. “I’m told that Charlene Joiner will be here tonight,” he said. “I believe you’re acquainted with her, aren’t you, Stone?”
“Who isn’t?” Stone asked.
The governor laughed again. “She’s quite a lady,” he said.
“Marvelous actress.”
“Do you think I should get to know her better?”
“I think it would be wise to take Will Lee as your example on the subject of Charlene.”
The governor smiled broadly. “Someone who was allegedly present a few years ago at Van Nuys Airport, when she tried to get to him on Air Force One, swears he heard the president tell the Secret Service that if she came on board to shoot her.”
They both had a good laugh, then joined the others.
Stone walked into the living room, which was now well populated with guests, and the first person he saw was the vice president of the United States. Martin Stanton was a tall, athletically built man of about fifty, with dark hair going gray, wearing a perfectly tailored suit. He was engaged in conversation with Peter and Hattie, and his eyes flicked toward Stone as he entered the room.
Stone walked over to where they stood. “Oh, Dad,” Peter said, “have you met the vice president? The governor invited him to join us this evening.”
“I have not,” Stone said, extending a hand, “but I am very happy to.”
“I’ve heard so much about you, Stone,” Stanton said. “I believe you and Kate Lee are very good friends.”
“We are just good friends,” Stone replied, “in spite of what you may have heard.” Or spread around, Stone thought.
Stanton smiled broadly, revealing impossibly white teeth. “Of course,” he said with a little smirk.
“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” Stone asked. He had seen Charlene Joiner enter the house, and he wanted to be the first to greet her.
Her face lit up as she spotted him. Charlene was beautifully attired in a silk dress and very high heels, with just the right accents of jewelry. “Stone! How are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m extremely well,” Stone replied, “as you obviously are. Have you met my son and his girl?”
“I have,” she replied. “We’ve been discussing an interesting role in his next film.”
“And have you met the vice president?”
“No, but I’d like to.”
“Right this way,” Stone said, taking her elbow and propelling her across the room to where Stanton still stood with Peter and Hattie. “Vice President Stanton,” Stone said, “may I present my favorite actress, Ms. Charlene Joiner?”
Stone watched as something clicked on in Stanton’s eyes and his hand reached for Charlene’s. This was the lady-killer in action, and he was about to meet his match.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Peter said, “we have some guests to greet.”
“I’ll help,” Stone said, and moved away from the man and woman who were so obviously enchanted with each other. He followed Peter and Hattie toward the front door and saw Ann come in.
“Hello, there.” He kissed her.
“Oh, hello,” she replied. “I was nearby when Kate finished with her appointments, so I didn’t bother to call.”
“You didn’t need to,” Stone said, signaling a waiter and ordering them drinks.
“My God!” she said. “There’s Martin Stanton. I want to go and say hello.”
“No,” Stone said, taking her arm. “Not now. He is entirely engaged at the moment, and we don’t want to interrupt.”
She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You are wicked.”
“They’re getting along so well, why interrupt them? Why don’t we go next door and see Ben’s house?” He led her out a door to a terrace and found a flagstone path to the house next door. Others were streaming down it as well. As they approached the house Stone saw Ben and Tessa chatting with Leo Goldman Jr., the CEO of Centurion Studios.
“Stone!” Leo shouted, then grabbed his hand.
“Good to see you, Leo. May I present Ann Keaton?”
