Power Play (An FBI Thriller) (24 page)

The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

Saturday afternoon

S
avich had visited the White House twice before, both times to see the president with Director Mueller to receive congratulations from the Head Dude himself on high-profile cases resolved. As always, security was tight, thorough, polite, and fully engaged. Marines posted near the lobby, both for security and for show, watched them respectfully but closely. The Secret Service agents, Savich knew, were clustered close to wherever the president happened to be—presently, around the Oval Office. There was activity everywhere, but noise levels were low.

For Natalie, of course, this was old hat. She greeted the various staffers they saw and several of the security people, all of whom, as far as Savich could tell, were happy to see her. And worried, he saw, since by now the whole world knew about the attempt on her life right in her own home. He and Natalie were met by Chief of Staff Eric Hainny. Natalie offered her hand, nodded, and said, “Good morning, Eric.”

After a brief pause, Hainny shook hers. “Good morning, Mrs. Black. Everyone is pleased you survived the attack last night. Ah, Agent Savich. It is a pleasure to see you again,” Hainny shook Savich’s hand.

Savich saw Hainny hadn’t changed since the last time he’d seen him a year before. He was still in desperate need of a gym, a merciless trainer, and fewer helpings at the dinner table. He looked rumpled and impatient, the quintessential guard dog, only Hainny was the alpha guard dog. He cleared his throat, looked at his watch. He said, his voice neutral, “The president is exceedingly busy, Mrs. Black. He made time for you he doesn’t have. Come with me.”

Natalie and Savich followed him past a reception room, two senior advisers’ offices, the dining room, and a study. Natalie spoke quietly to a tall, thin man who joined them, obviously one of the senior advisers. He patted her shoulder, then she double-stepped to catch up with Hainny, who never slowed. She rolled her eyes at Hainny’s stiff back. It was obvious, despite the attempt on her life, that Hainny still believed Natalie should resign and get out of the president’s hair, preferably far enough away to be forgotten by critics and citizens alike by the time elections rolled around.

Savich raised an eyebrow. Natalie said quietly, “I’m at the center of a firestorm, and Eric is very afraid he won’t be able to control the fallout. The way he sees it, I’m still a huge liability.”

Natalie let him march ahead when Mrs. Janikowski, the president’s secretary, stepped out to greet her. She hugged her and patted her cheek. “I’m so sorry about what’s happening, Mrs. Black, and so glad you’re all right. The president has expressed supreme confidence that Agent Savich and the FBI will figure all this out.” And
she smiled at Savich. Now, that’s how you get to be the president’s secretary, Savich thought. He had to admit, hearing that made him feel quite nice.

Hainny cleared his throat, again looked at his watch, and Mrs. Janikowski stepped back. Hainny led them into the Oval Office as the clock struck two.

Savich saw Natalie pull her shoulders back, coach her expression into one of serene control. Her Armani suit was stark black, conservative, so stylish it had turned heads of passersby when she’d stepped out of her limo at the northwest gate to meet him. She wore power well, like a comfortable second skin. She added a slight, subtle smile as they walked in, a smile that said she would rule over her own reactions and her own personal universe, come what may. She was, he decided, quite remarkable.

“Mr. President, Mrs. Black and Special Agent Savich are here.”

Thornton Gilbert rose from behind his desk, came forward quickly to enfold Natalie in his arms. He spoke quietly to her, then stepped back and shook Savich’s hand.

“Agent Savich, it is a pleasure to see you again. Agent Sherlock is well? And your son? Sean?” Savich answered on script, assuming that Mrs. Janikowski prepared him with personal particulars on all his visitors.

The president nodded and turned serious. “Agent Savich, I will admit I was relieved to hear you were accompanying Natalie here. I’m very pleased you’re involved.”

Savich had always thought this president could play the role of the president of the United States in a movie if he wished. He was tall enough—that is, over six feet—he was fit without the hint of a paunch hanging over his belt, and he was blessed with a full head
of dark brown hair with gray wings at the temples. He looked competent and measured, a man who would think things through before acting, a plainspoken man you could trust. Had he practiced that look, that expression?

There was no doubt in Savich’s mind that the president was genuinely pleased to see Natalie, an excellent sign. He turned to Mrs. Janikowski. “Bess, could you fetch us coffee and some of those good nutty rolls from the dining room?”

Bess Janikowski nodded, smiled at Natalie, and left. As for Chief of Staff Eric Hainny, he hovered until the president said, “Eric, would you run through the remarks they’ve prepared for this evening with the press secretary? I won’t have the time.”

It was a clear dismissal. Hainny paused for only a moment, then took himself off.

The president said, “Sit down, sit down, both of you. Nat, what’s been happening to you is a nightmare. I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how very worried both Joy and I are for you and for Perry as well. Director Comey has briefed me about the Scotland Yard investigation and the horrendous incident at your home last night. I asked you here to assure you we’re going to keep you safe, and bring whoever did this to justice.”

Natalie wanted to cry, but of course she didn’t. She’d hoped he would support her, but, in truth, she hadn’t expected it, not with all the political realities at play, even factoring in the events of the previous night that had shut the mouths of those who said she’d made up the attack in England.

Of course she and Thorn and Brundage and Arliss had been close for more years than any of them wished to acknowledge, but he was still the president of the United States, the most powerful
man in the world, and their friendship, no matter how long or how deep, couldn’t matter to any decision he made about her. She cleared her throat. “I’ve been wondering why I am still an ambassador after all that’s happened.”

He laughed, a rich baritone that filled the room. He sat forward, his hands clasped between his knees. “Nat, we’ve known each other since we were twenty years old. It’s because I know you so well, because I know who you are and what you are, that I never doubted your word, not for an instant. Now, after last night, no one else can doubt you, either. Nat, let me say, and I plan to say this only once—you would not be helping me by resigning. I have other plans for you.”

H
e broke off when Bess Janikowski slipped in carrying a beautifully worked antique silver tray. She set about giving them coffee, tea for Agent Savich, and she said when he looked surprised, “Oh, I know everything about you, Agent Savich,” and she smiled at him on her way out. No one took a warm nutty roll.

As Mrs. Janikowski was leaving, Arliss Goddard Abbott came into the Oval Office, Eric Hainny lumbering behind her, both looking determined. The secretary of state walked in looking like the queen of the world, exuding arrogance and competence like a potent perfume. But, Savich decided, it was the arrogant set of her head that sealed the deal, and the aura of good old pioneer grit.

The president rose. “Arliss, I’m glad you’re here, but I’d expected you a bit later. I trust Brooxey is well?”

“Brooxey provides me endless entertainment,” Arliss said, not a hint of sarcasm in her smooth voice.

The president nodded. “Come and join us. Eric, you and I will meet here in thirty minutes, all right?”

It was clear to Savich the president didn’t want Hainny involved in speaking with Natalie because Hainny obviously wanted her out, plain to see, and the president didn’t want to have to deal with him in front of them. But what about Arliss Abbott?

Arliss nodded to Natalie and frowned at Savich, who rose. She
turned to the president. “I could leave if there are things you wish to discuss with Natalie before I’m to be included.” To Savich’s ear, she was practically screaming to stay.

“No, no,” the president said easily, and added, “Do you know Agent Dillon Savich, FBI?”

“I know of him,” she said, and this time, because it was expected, she shook his hand, her voice perfectly pleasant.

“Madame Secretary,” Savich said, his voice pleasant as hers. Why had she come ten minutes earlier than expected? Did she know exactly where the president stood, and would she try to change his mind?

He saw Natalie was sitting perfectly still, her back ramrod straight, her eyes on the rich dark blue draperies behind the president’s desk, changed from the bright red ones of his predecessor, or perhaps she was looking at the U.S. flag on one side of the desk, to the president’s flag on the other.

“Sir,” Arliss said, not sitting, “I was informed of your decision and I have some ideas to share with you both. First, Natalie, all of us are concerned for your safety. Last night shouldn’t have happened. I will ensure no one can get to you again. None of us want anything to happen to you.”

The president said very quietly, “Of course. Let me add that I already know what your feelings are in this matter, Arliss.”

“No, you don’t, sir. The press is giving heavy coverage to the intruder at Natalie’s home last night. It looks to become a major story that will change the dynamics for us, and for Natalie, entirely—if handled properly. I now believe Natalie should stay the course, remain the United States ambassador to the United Kingdom, and I have a plan on how we should proceed.”

Natalie said slowly, “Arliss, when you visited me Thursday afternoon at my home, you wanted me to resign.”

“The president had decided to keep you on and it was hurting him politically, Natalie, and I did what I thought best. Things are different now after what happened last night. A United States ambassador was attacked in her own home, her staff injured. Whatever happened in England, there is no doubt about last night. Your surviving, and persevering in your job, can be seen as a triumph. Obviously, what happened last night validates the president’s trust in you, his brave and wise decision to support you, despite the seeming impropriety.

“It’s clear the attempts on your life began abroad, when you were in the field representing the United States government. Natalie, the State has no choice but to wrap you in the American flag and make you a homegrown heroine.”

“And there you have it, Nat,” the president said, “Washington at its finest. Arliss and her staff are right about the potential politics of this, though.” He paused for a moment, grinned at Natalie. “You’re a perfect heroine. Now, if you’re willing, we can help you prep for the press, the news networks, put you back in the spotlight on your own terms.”

Natalie wondered if Arliss would have changed her mind if Hooley weren’t lying in the hospital with a knife wound in his heart, if dozens of people hadn’t seen her in bloody pajamas in the ER. She said, “This is a lot to process, but you know I will do my best.”

“Your best will be superb, as always,” the president said. “Now, Agent Savich, what can I do to help you?”

“Actually, Mr. President, after the incident last night, Madame
Secretary is providing ample security. Mrs. Black’s safety was always my primary concern.”

Arliss said, “That’s right. Our State Department agents are already at your house, Natalie, making the necessary assessments. You know, if you’d asked me, I’d have authorized the Diplomatic Security Service to protect you as soon as you arrived home.”

Natalie looked at Arliss and knew very well what her answer would have been if she had indeed asked.

“That’s done, then,” the president said. “Arliss, why don’t you show Natalie to our press office, get her started on her work with them.”

Minutes later, Natalie, Savich, and Arliss walked past Hainny’s office to see him tapping his pen on a beautiful mahogany desktop. Arliss said smoothly, “He’ll find out soon enough. There’s a private study up ahead, and I’d like a few moments alone with Natalie. Would you mind waiting for us in the hall, Agent Savich?”

When they were alone in a small staffer’s office, Arliss said, “I don’t think there’s much reason for me to take you all the way to the press office, Natalie. I’ve already made plans to have you speak at the UN on Monday. Ambassador Connor was scheduled to speak on global economic policy, and has graciously given up his time to you. I will be there with you, to introduce you.”

Natalie searched her friend’s, and her boss’s, face. “Why?”

“It’s substantial enough for your position, and it will give you a reason to agree to interviews with the press. We will announce your speech at the UN today. My staff will email you a suggested text of the speech, and I’ll have the press secretary send you along some talking points. You will, of course, put your own spin on things and adjust whatever you wish to your own words.”

Natalie nodded. “Why did you want to speak to me privately, Arliss?”

“To tell you I’m sorry for what’s happened to you and to Perry. Day said he sent her flowers, called her several times to see if she’s all right. I don’t think he’s particularly happy she’s now being guarded by that young FBI agent who was with you at my party. What was his name?”

“Special Agent Davis Sullivan. He’ll be with her until this is over, hopefully very soon now. He’s a fine young man, actually, smart of mouth and fast of brain. He matches up with Perry quite well.” She blinked, realizing the import of what she’d said to Day’s mother. She smiled. “Day and Perry have known each other forever, and there is deep caring between them.”

“Day told me he’s committed to marrying Perry.”

“Perry told me he proposed, but there’s simply so much turmoil right now, and who can make a decision about anything? Day is a fine young man. I’d welcome him as a son-in-law. Whatever they decide, of course, I’m fine with it. Aren’t you?”

“What’s right is right,” Arliss said. “Do you remember what Brundage always used to say?”

“Yes, but he said it in German,” Natalie said. “He never wanted Perry to hear him curse.”

“No, not that. He always told me he believed in karma. The only thing was that karma sometimes didn’t get it done, and that was when you had to give it a good shove.”

Natalie honestly couldn’t remember Brundage ever saying a sentence with the word
karma
in it. She could imagine the thick contempt in his voice if he had. Brundage always sat solid and pragmatic in the world and heaped scorn on those who didn’t, on
those who believed in some sort of cosmic balancing of the scales. He knew where he was going, what he wanted, and he managed to get it even when he was twenty years old. And he’d wanted her, he’d told her, wanted her more than anything else in his life.

She felt the bittersweet memory fill her, felt tears sting her eyes. They’d had a lot of years together, but they should have had so many more. She said easily, “Well, possibly so, but what does karma have to do with Perry and Day, Arliss?”

Arliss lightly laid her hand on Natalie’s arm. “What I mean is that what is right will overcome, that’s all. Brundage believed that, too, if I remember correctly.” She turned away, then paused, said over her shoulder, “Isn’t it odd how life turns out?”