They separated into two groups, and Jamie kept pace with his father as they walked through the Executive Residence to the colonnade that connected the central building with the West Wing. They passed the famous Rose Garden along the way, the now-biodome-enclosed area blooming behind clear plas-glass walls covered in nanoscreens that connected to the colonnade. The scent of flowers tickled Jamie’s nose, nearly making him sneeze.
Charles didn’t initiate any conversation on the short walk to the Oval Office. Jamie rather thought that was a telling slight, even if Richard didn’t seem bothered by the other man’s silence. Since they weren’t arriving at the West Wing’s main entrance from inside the building, but coming from the colonnade, they were escorted past the Marine guard posted outside the east door that accessed the Rose Garden. Once inside the Oval Office, Jamie’s gaze roved over the grandly decorated room as Charles announced their arrival.
“Mr. President, your guests have arrived,” Charles said.
“Excellent timing, Richard,” Michael said, nodding at Jamie’s father.
The president of the United States sat behind the Resolute desk, a massive, ancient wooden piece that hadn’t left the Oval Office in centuries. The decor of the room was warmer in color than the last president’s choice, with cream walls and a round rug placed over the hardwood floor, the great seal of the president of the United States woven into its make. Rich, red curtains hung over the three south-facing windows behind the president’s desk, providing a pop of color to the room.
Artwork borrowed from the White House’s private collection hung on the walls or were displayed on tables and cabinets. A conversation circle of couches and chairs were separated by a low wooden table topped with a brass sculpture depicting a weary Native American on his horse. Several aides stood within the room, all of whom weren’t shy about staring at the new arrivals.
Michael stood up, coming over to shake Richard’s hand, and then Jamie’s. “So good to see you again, Captain Callahan.”
Jamie squared his shoulders and snapped off a salute after Michael let go of his hand. “Mr. President.”
It didn’t matter that he wasn’t in uniform; this was his commander-in-chief. Jamie would always show respect for the office, whether or not he respected the man or woman carrying that mantle. While he respected Michael, Jamie had made an oath to his country and the underlying Constitution, not a single person. It was something his father still stubbornly refused to accept.
“Why don’t you take a seat? We’ll have ourselves a little chat before dinner.” Michael waved a hand in the general direction of the door that led into the West Wing proper. “Everyone clear the room.”
Charles seemed the most reluctant to leave, but the chief of staff followed everyone else out of the Oval Office, closing the door behind him. Michael pressed a button on the desk’s control panel, activating the room’s soundproofing.
Richard took a seat on one of the couches and Jamie followed his father’s lead. This wasn’t his first time meeting with the president, but it never failed to leave him feeling tight in the shoulders.
“I’ve seen the polls, Richard. You’ve slipped another spot,” Michael said.
Richard’s mouth ticked minutely upward at the corner before he nodded. “Yes. We anticipated that happening after the hearing. For once, I wish I had been wrong.”
“There’s still time to turn things around. The primaries aren’t over yet and I’ve heard rumors Governor Singh is thinking about dropping out.”
With Richard currently polling at fifth place in the Republican primaries, there wasn’t that much farther for him to drop. Rav Singh, governor of Michigan, was currently in sixth place and dead last in the race. If Singh bowed out of the running, then Richard would take the unwanted honor of being last. Even the current vice president was polling better than he was, and everyone agreed Timothy Souza wasn’t going to win no matter how much Michael stumped for him.
The pollsters and pundits had said the race was Richard’s to lose as far back as last summer. It turned out they were right.
Richard was losing.
“Nowhere to go but up, is that it?” was Richard’s cool reply.
Michael shot him a hooded look before shaking his head. “Trite, but true. The issues that damaged your campaign were out of your hands. Just because you can’t comment on them doesn’t mean they have to define you.”
“I can’t even come to my own defense, because every defense is classified.”
His father’s anger was palpable, but the president remained unmoved.
“I cannot and will not authorize the declassification of the Pavluhkin mission simply to save your campaign, Richard.”
“You threw my family name and reputation under the bus by appealing to my son’s sense of honor.”
“It’s almost as if you don’t realize that the position you’re seeking requires you to put aside personal gain for the good of the country,” Jamie said flatly.
Richard shot him an angry look, but managed to keep his temper in check. “If I’d been in charge—”
“You weren’t, and you aren’t. Even if you do win the presidency, you won’t have the power to dictate what the MDF director does.”
“I can replace him.”
Jamie’s steady, unblinking gaze never left his father’s face. “You do that, and I guarantee you wouldn’t see me for the length of your supposed presidency. Or longer. Don’t fucking threaten that again, Father. It’s not a battle you will win.”
Whatever Richard saw in Jamie’s face, it made him hold his tongue. In the end, Richard was the first to look away, faint splotches of red coloring his cheeks. Anger, perhaps, or humiliation; Jamie didn’t care. He wouldn’t be cowed by his father’s ambitions. Richard had been measuring drapes for the Oval Office, so to speak, for the past two years. It was past time he realized that nothing was set in stone.
People saying Richard deserved the presidency didn’t automatically mean he would get it. At the rate things were going, Richard didn’t have Jamie’s vote.
“I would advise against replacing someone of General Nazari’s stature without a valid reason,” Michael said tactfully. “Simply disliking the man isn’t enough, Richard. Trust me on that.”
Jamie turned his attention back to the president. “Nazari is an excellent commanding officer, sir.”
“I know. He’s trying his best to help mitigate this disaster. I know it’s frustrating, but we are working to push back on the current narrative.”
Richard cleared his throat, the anger from before vanishing from his eyes as if it never existed. “You mentioned your son might help with that?”
“Arrivals at State Dinners are always a spectacle. That many cameras in one place for a feel-good event isn’t something we want to pass up. Playing up a PR relationship with a member of my family might earn you some goodwill. I still have good political clout to spend.”
It went unsaid that Richard did not. Michael was coming off a two-term presidency and most political pundits were hedging bets he’d leave on a high note—low unemployment rates, balanced budget, and an expanding middle class. His record was why more and more were predicting another Republican win, but their star choice had fallen hard to earth.
Jamie couldn’t say he was unhappy about that.
He just didn’t want to pretend to date someone while already engaged.
“I’d prefer not to start a relationship right now, pretend or otherwise, especially with someone who doesn’t have the security clearance to know what I am and what I do,” Jamie said firmly.
“It wouldn’t be for long,” Michael pressed. “Dating, that is.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll escort Gabriel to the State Dinner, but nothing more will come of it.”
Unlike his father, who would have argued the issue to death, the president respected his boundaries. “Very well. But if you change your mind, I don’t think any of us would be disappointed. Now then, let’s head on back to the residence,
shall we? I can introduce you to Gabriel and we can get started on dinner. Lord only knows, if we’re late Ashley will have me sleeping on the couch.”
“She is a stickler about being punctual,” Richard said, attempting to reset the tone of the visit.
“That she is,” Michael said with a chuckle as he stood up.
They exited the Oval Office into the hallway, the Secret Service special agents on duty outside discreetly murmuring into their comms about the president on the move. Michael maintained a lively conversation about the latest basketball playoff results on their way back to the Executive Residence and the Family Dining Room located on the State Level.
Charlotte and Ashley were already seated at the long wooden table in the center of the room set for six people. The antique crystal chandelier overhead cast glittering light around the room, the heavy curtains hanging over the pair of windows at the far end drawn closed for the evening.
Sitting across from the two women was a young man who looked to be in his mid-twenties. Tanned, with a clean-shaven face dominated by sharp cheekbones, Gabriel was lean and personable as he laughed at whatever Charlotte was joking about. Black hair was slicked away from his face, brown eyes full of amusement as he turned to look their way.
“Father,” Gabriel said as he stood up.
Ashley and Charlotte moved to follow suit, but Michael waved at them to remain seated. “Gabriel, let me introduce you to Captain Jamie Callahan, Senator Callahan’s son.”
Gabriel dutifully came forward, eagerly extending his hand and offering Jamie an easy smile. “Captain, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Please, no titles. Jamie is fine,” Jamie replied.
“Gabriel here is a rising star over at Harrington LLP,” Ashley announced with a proud smile.
“Don’t mind my mother. She likes to brag,” Gabriel said, not embarrassed in the least at her words.
“And why not? You went to Yale for undergrad and Harvard Law for your JD. Everyone in the family is proud of your accomplishments.”
“Both are excellent choices for education,” Charlotte agreed.
The men took their seats as the conversation drifted toward everyone’s opinion on the Ivy Leagues versus everything else as the first course was served.
“I hear you were in the Marines?” Gabriel said, attempting to entice Jamie into conversation.
“Recon Marines,” Jamie corrected.
“You’re an officer, so that must mean you went to Annapolis. Did you enjoy it?”
Jamie nodded slowly, refusing to look at his parents. “I did. Very much so. Joining the Marines was honestly the best decision I’ve ever made.”
It was a visceral truth that still, to this day, Jamie carried with him. The Marines had taught him so much more than he’d have ever learned if he had remained in the civilian world all those years ago. The initial idea had been laid out by his father for political reasons, but Jamie had stayed in uniform well past the point his parents had wanted him to come home.
His parents were too well-bred to argue with him at a table like this. They only nodded and said nothing at Jamie’s answer.
During the course of dinner, Jamie answered—within reason—most of Gabriel’s questions about himself, declined some on the basis of privacy, and didn’t reciprocate the curiosity on display. Gabriel, for all that he was twenty-five and intelligent, made Jamie feel positively ancient at age thirty-two. The differences in how they’d lived their lives was stark, and it wasn’t something that could ever be bridged, no matter what Gabriel thought or the president hoped for.
Jamie’s commitment lay with Kyle, and always would.
At the close of dinner, when everyone was sharing glasses of port or whiskey, Gabriel leaned in close to Jamie to murmur in his ear. “Do you want me to be your date for the State Dinner?”
Jamie glanced across the table at where his father was speaking with Michael about something that made both men laugh.
“It’s not about what I want,” Jamie told him.
Gabriel shot him an understanding, if disappointed, look before settling back in his chair. Jamie half-hoped Gabriel would decline to go as his date, but he knew it was wishful thinking. They were both driven by the whims of their family’s needs, and there was no escaping their roles. Jamie would escort Gabriel to the State Dinner, but it would be a meaningless affair.
Dinner officially ended nearly an hour later, after all the small talk had been exhausted and nothing more could possibly be said. Jamie and his parents said their goodbyes to the First Family and left the White House for their SUV.
Jamie took the far back seat, getting settled and pulling out his personal tablet. He hadn’t looked at it all evening, and was itching for updates on his team. The number of messages he had—text and video—from everyone, but especially the three who’d been on the combat jet, went a long way toward easing his mind.
He was so caught up in replying to his team that he missed Richard clearing his throat to get his attention. It took saying his name for Jamie to wrench his attention away from his tablet and Katie’s report.
“Yes?” he said, trying not to sound irritated.
“That went well,” Richard said.
“It went nowhere, and will continue to go nowhere, Father.”
“Are you seeing anyone? Is that why you’re so against this idea?”
“Would it matter if I were?” Jamie shot back.
Richard was quiet for several more blocks and didn’t turn around in the seat to look at him. Charlotte did, giving Jamie a surprised, questioning look, most likely recalling their conversation on the patio earlier in the afternoon.
“Despite everything that has happened, I do want you happy, Jamie,” Richard finally said.
His words left a sour taste in Jamie’s mouth. “What you want for me is what you want, Father. Not what I want.”
Jamie had known that for years, and it had never grated as badly as it had until the campaign. His form of rebellion had nearly killed him in Tripoli, but Jamie never once regretted the choice to live his own life as much as he could outside his father’s shadow.
But some days, there was no escaping family.
The rest of the drive was made in silence that Jamie did his best to ignore as he caught up on everything that had happened today. When they arrived at the mansion, the lights were on inside, indicating Leah had returned.
“Are you staying the night?” Charlotte asked once they were out of the vehicle.
Jamie shook his head. “I need to check on my team.”
“What happened?” Richard wanted to know.
Jamie glanced up at the clear night sky above, the stars dimmed by light pollution. “I’ll tell you later.”
They weren’t behind soundproofed walls, their words guarded by electronic jammers. Charlotte might tell Richard the bare gist of what had happened today once they were inside, but Jamie had no desire to stay any longer than necessary.
He hugged his mother goodbye and offered his father his hand to shake. Richard took it after a moment, gripping him tightly.
“Despite what you think, I do care,” Richard said gruffly. “Stay safe.”
Funny way of showing it, Jamie thought.
He nodded and walked away, heading for his car parked in the driveway. Once he was behind the wheel and on his way, he called Katie.
“We’re fine,” she assured him immediately once she answered.
“I know. Tell me what happened.”
Her verbal report gave more inflection than text ever could. Jamie listened intently on the drive home, asking few questions, more interested in getting a feel for the events Katie had lived through. She was calm and collected throughout the entire debrief, but Jamie still had to watch the way he gripped the steering wheel to make sure he didn’t break it.
“We’ve been ordered home, so don’t go to base,” Katie warned when she finished.
“I know. I did get your message.”
“Good. Don’t s
econd-guess what happened. We all got clear and came back alive.”
“Thanks to Sean.”
“There’s a reason we wanted him on the team, and not just to stop Alexei from sulking.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at base.”
“I’d offer to meet for breakfast beforehand, but Matthew promised to cook for me.”
“Have fun.”
“You bet your damn railroad tracks I will,” Katie practically purred.
Jamie laughed and shook his head, even though she couldn’t see him as the call cut off. The closer he got to home, the more the tension drained out of his shoulders. By the time he parked and made it up to the condo, Jamie was ready to leave the stress of the day behind.
It was late when he arrived, the condo dark save for a soft light far down the hallway that beckoned him. When the attending computer started to turn on the lights, Jamie said, “Lights off.”
He walked down the hall to the master bedroom, undoing his tie as he went. Coming into the bedroom, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and vest, draping it all over the comfortable armchair in the corner.
“Hey,” Kyle’s sleepy voice said from the bed. “How was your date?”
“Terrible.”
“Really?”
“He wasn’t you.”
Kyle chuckled, the sound fading into a yawn. “Damn straight.”
Jamie worked at the buttons on his dress shirt as he slowly approached the bed. “He’s young.”
“How young?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Trading me in for a gold digger, I see.”
Jamie snorted and took a seat on the bed. Kyle blinked at him, wide awake now, the soft lamplight on the nightstand turning his green eyes lighter. He reached for Kyle’s left hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the ring settled firmly on Kyle’s finger.
“Never,” Jamie promised.
A soft smile curved Kyle’s mouth as he pressed a finger to Jamie’s lips. “I know. Come to bed and get some rest.”
Jamie stripped out of the rest of his clothes, intent on following that order, because any officer worth their salt knew that NCOs always had good ideas.
In the Requiem (Metahuman Files Book 5) Page 16
