I Do Solemnly Swear (16 page)

“How soon would you want to make this happen?”

“I can start looking for an apartment right away.”

Kate smiled. “I’m looking forward to having you close by, Daddy.”

***

Kate spent the day with her father. She tried to insulate herself from politics, but distractions were everywhere. It wasn’t like visiting him at the White Stallion Ranch. She couldn’t fill her lungs with the fresh country air or purge her mind of worldly tasks. Her eyes couldn’t marvel at the acres of virgin soil. And she wasn’t able to saddle up Breezy and ride to her heart’s content. No sugar maples swaying gently to autumn breezes or picturesque landscapes or choirs of starlings. Only buildings and monuments and carbon monoxide and assassins.

As she guided him on a private tour of the White House, she could feel the walls closing in, every square inch a sobering reminder of her supreme responsibilities—none of which she could share with him.

Kate and Trevor were standing in the China Room in front of the enclosed curio, admiring the china used by Franklin Roosevelt.

“Would you like to go out to dinner, Daddy?”

“Can you do that sort of thing?”

“I’m the president. I can do almost anything.”

She contacted Director of Secret Service Albert Cranston and asked him to make arrangements for them to dine at Café La Fleur. Cranston, pointing out that her request to dine out was highly unusual, tried to talk her out of it, but in spite of his
noble efforts, she exercised her executive authority and vetoed his appeal.

***

Two limos pulled up to the main door of the White House—one for Kate and her father, the other for Secret Service agents. As she waited for an agent to open the limo door, the see-your-breath air nipped Kate’s cheeks. She bent into the limo, curiously aware of the wiper blades slapping across the windshield. That was one of the peculiar things about Washington’s weather, she thought. At times, the humidity was so thick it required that you turn on the windshield wipers even though it wasn’t raining. Tonight, the air was heavy with moisture. She knew this was not destined to be the intimate evening she’d hoped for, but at least her father and she could spend some time away from her prison.

They drove east on Constitution Avenue, past the National Museum of American History, the IRS building, the Department of Justice, the Federal Trade Commission. The limo turned onto Seventh Street and drove through the greenery of the Mall, an area once decaying with railroad yards and warehouses in disrepair. Now the Mall was gleaming with congressional office buildings and the magnificent Union Station. Kate glanced out the smokedglass window. It was still early enough for tourists to be wandering the streets and gathering around historic buildings, memorials, and monuments. She watched joggers and cyclists, even a few brave Rollerbladers who seemed impervious to the damp air.

The ride was hauntingly quiet.

When they reached Café La Fleur, Kate and Trevor remained in their limo while the agents in the other vehicle piled out and went into the restaurant. After several minutes, the driver opened the rear door, and two agents escorted them in. Kate and Trevor were led to a private dining room in the back of Café La Fleur
and were seated at an elegantly set table big enough for eight people. There were fresh flowers everywhere. The table was set with exquisite crystal, purple linen napkins with gold bands, and a white lace tablecloth.

While they dined, Kate was careful not to speak too loudly. The Secret Service agents hovered like vultures, most within earshot. The last thing she needed was more speculation about her personal life.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so uptight.” Her father cut his steak and placed a generous piece in his mouth.

“That’s because I’ve never been the president of the United States.” She’d wanted to lecture him about cholesterol when he’d ordered the beef, but Kansas ranchers were rather set in their ways.

The Secret Service had checked the wine, but still Kate was not sure she could enjoy it without thinking about David Rodgers. She filled her mouth with the ‘85 Mondavi Reserve, allowing it to awaken her taste buds. The magnificent Cabernet was bold and full-bodied. Wild berries and currant exploded in her mouth. Kate hadn’t forgotten Carl Kramer’s supposition, but for how long could she deprive herself of life’s simple pleasures? She swallowed the wine with less difficulty than she’d anticipated. The long finish was opulent with flavor.

Trevor set his knife and fork on the table. “I’ve spent the entire day with you, yet I feel as though we haven’t been together. Anything you want to talk about?”

You have no idea
, she thought. “Peter doesn’t think I belong in Washington.”

Trevor had never approved of Peter, and Kate knew that her comment would create more ill feelings. But why should she protect her estranged husband?

“Is that Peter’s observation or yours?”

The question struck a sensitive chord. A week ago, the answer would have come without a conscious thought, but today, Kate was plagued with doubts. “I’m having a difficult time distinguishing the good guys from the bad. It seems there are only a handful of people I can trust.”

“Congratulations. I wish I’d had just one supporter when I was running Global Transportation for David. When you’re the top dog, everybody’s trying to get a piece of you. Ambitious people have little regard for loyalty, especially if they can profit from your downfall. Be warned: if the reward is substantial, even your most trusted confidant can be seduced by ambition. Don’t drive yourself crazy trying to figure it out. Loyalty comes from strength. Strength comes from wise decisions.”

“I find myself overanalyzing situations to the point of confusion. I even ignore the advice of my top advisors.”

“Let your sixth sense guide you, honey. You’ve always had keen insights. Listen to your advisors. But ultimately, you must go with your gut instincts.” He reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers. “When you were governor, you fostered bold legislation. You went against the grain and fought for what you believed in. Because of your determination, Kansas is now a more prosperous state. You have the ability to make sound decisions. You’ve proven that. You’ve done it in the past, and you need to do it here in Washington. Don’t ignore your intuition, Kate. It’s your most powerful ally.”

She glanced at the adjacent table. Two Secret Service agents were staring at them as if trying to read their lips. She lowered her voice. “I got into the Oval Office by default, Daddy.”

“David didn’t win the election alone. You were instrumental in that victory. Don’t you think that most voters considered what would happen if the president couldn’t complete his term? They elected
you
just as much as him. Stop second-guessing
yourself, and take the bull by the horns.” He leaned toward her, almost whispering in her ear. “Show these city slickers that a Kansas farm girl is someone to be reckoned with.”

***

Hoping to soothe her knotted lower back and minimize her restlessness, Kate decided to take a bath before going to bed. As much as she loved seeing her father, spending the day with him brought back harsh memories of her childhood. She removed her clothes, gathered her hair on top of her head and secured it with a hair clip. Before submerging her body, Kate stood naked in front of the full-length mirror. She turned from side to side, appraising her figure. Except for her left breast, Kate was quite pleased with her reflection. Even without a husband or swarms of men fluttering about like bees over flowers, she still felt attractive. But for how long could she defy the aging process?

Kate eased her body into the hot, steamy water and rested her head against the back of the tub. Soaking a washcloth, she squeezed out the excess water and covered her face with it. In spite of having her father here in Washington and spending hours and hours with staff members and colleagues, the beast from her childhood had found her again. Would she ever elude this demon of loneliness? She now understood what Peter’d meant when he’d talked about Topeka, their friends, the kind of life they’d enjoyed. An eerie emptiness enveloped her. She felt like a fragile ceramic figurine—polished exterior, but hollow inside. One careless jolt and she’d break into a million jagged pieces. It was time for her to reevaluate her political career and her marriage. For once, maybe she’d listen to her common sense instead of her heart. Now was not the right time to think about such issues. She had more pressing business to deal with. She left her quarters and headed for the Situation Room.

***

The National Security Council consisted of four members: the president, vice president, secretary of state, and secretary of defense. Their advisors—the Joint Chiefs of Staff—were six members of the armed forces: four generals and two admirals. All members were present in the Situation Room. Kate sat silently as Secretary of Defense Alderson briefed the esteemed group on the recent developments in the Middle East. She studied their eyes, searching for any hint of what they might be thinking. With the exception of Walter Owens, who incessantly shook his head, raised his eyebrows, and mumbled oohs and aahs, the members remained as deadpan as professional gamblers.

“As you can see, the situation is volatile,” Alderson said. “King Abdullah has every right to invite Iranian troops into Jordan. On the other hand, Israel is entirely justified in feeling threatened. Ahmadinejad’s track record speaks for itself. We either have to remain in a wait-and-see mode or take action. Either way, we’re dealing with a very delicate situation.”

General Cumberland’s husky voice bellowed. “Have we spoken with King Abdullah or the Jordanian ambassador?”

“I’m leaving for Jordan this afternoon,” Alderson said. “This isn’t the kind of thing you discuss over the telephone.”

General Wolfe steepled his fingers. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You’re wasting your time with King Abdullah. His father was in cahoots with Saddam long before the Middle East war. And Abdullah is even more conniving. Think it’s a coincidence Saddam and the former king have the same last name?”

“How about the Iranian ambassador?” Admiral McCormick asked.

Toni Mitchell stood. “I’ve invited him to Washington.”

“You
must
be joking,” General Wolfe said. “Habib will
never
come to America.”

Mitchell said, “I reminded him that we still have a half dozen Stealth bombers in Saudi Arabia.”

“That won’t rattle him,” Wolfe said. “Those goddamn people have a death wish. Can’t wait to meet Mohammed or Allah or whoever the hell they worship. We should take aggressive action immediately. Before things get out of hand. What the hell do you think they’re doing in Jordan, taking ballet lessons?”

Kate’s eyes shot daggers. “What should we do, General, level Tehran and kill a million innocent people?”

“Innocent?” Wolfe yelled. “Have we all forgotten what those animals did to the Kuwaitis? Have we dismissed the September eleventh slaughter of over three thousand Americans? And how about the endless conflict in Iraq and Afghanistan? Little Arabs grow up to be big Arabs. And all of them have the potential to be terrorists.”

Kate knew that the Air Force general was a hawk but didn’t realize his claws were this sharp. “Before we even
think
about military action, we need to explore every diplomatic remedy. We must give both King Abdullah and Ambassador Habib the opportunity to respond.” Kate looked at General Cumberland. “Excluding Iraq, how many American troops are in the Middle East?”

“Since September eleventh, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey have been more receptive to our military presence. Between those three nations, we’ve got approximately fifty thousand troops. Ready to go.”

“Admiral McCormick, how about the Navy?” Kate asked.

“Our battleships are situated ideally in the Mediterranean, and we’ve got two carriers in the Arabian Sea, equipped with F-18s. They’re a long way from Iran, but I can redirect the carriers to the Persian Gulf.”

“If we do, will it be construed as an aggressive act?”

“No more offensive than Iranian troops polishing their weapons on the Israeli border,” McCormick said.

“Do it,” the president ordered. “Contact our sources in the Middle East. If there’s any change in the status of those Iranian troops, if they even
glance
at Israel or do anything remotely warlike, I want to be informed at once.” She asked one more question, not directing it to anyone in particular. “How accurately can we pinpoint an air strike?”

This was Wolfe territory, and he couldn’t wait to answer. “Madam President, we can thread a needle.”

Square-jawed Marine General Frank Wallace spoke for the first time. “I’d like to remind everyone that back in two thousand two, Iraq did not respond to anything but military force, nor did the Taliban in Afghanistan. There’s no reason to believe that the defiant Arab extremists have changed their attitudes. We should give them an ultimatum, Madam President. Either they get their butts out of Jordan immediately, or we blow them to kingdom come.”

Toni Mitchell shook her head violently. “General Wallace, are you suggesting an air strike on
Jordanian
soil?”

“If necessary,” he answered.

“But that will erase years of goodwill between our countries. We should do everything possible to preserve this relationship. And besides, don’t you think we should consult members of the United Nations before we act?”

“My dear Secretary of State,” General Wolfe said, “were you aware that when we went into Kuwait to clean up the carnage after Desert Storm ended, much of the military equipment left behind in Iraq’s hasty departure was Jordanian? Excuse my candor, but Abdullah has been in bed with Ahmadinejad for a long time, and so was his father. Any delusions you might have about a favorable relationship with Jordan is merely a wet dream. If President
Bush had waited for the United Nations to get off their asses, Iraq would still be ruled by a dictator.”

Kate was glad neither General Wolfe nor General Wallace could get their itchy little fingers anywhere near red launch buttons. “Before we consider a military offensive, I’m going to give Ambassador Habib the opportunity to respond.”