T
HEY HAD SETTLED
on a Boeing 757 that the secretary of state used to fly before she’d been upgraded to a wide-body 767–300. The plane had been kept at Andrews Air Force Base along with the rest of the presidential fleet. All government markings had been previously removed and it was now primarily used to shuttle agents, aides, and the press, as well as necessary equipment.
The secretary of state had a private office and bedroom on the plane and that configuration had not changed. It was in the office where the president and Mrs. Cox were sitting when they went wheels up from Andrews a few hours after Jane Cox had burst into the Oval Office and planted a golf ball in Thomas Jefferson’s left eye socket. The rest of the plane housed a hastily assembled skeleton crew of Secret Service agents who were more bewildered than anything else by what was happening.
The president sat looking at his wife, who was hunched in her seat staring at the floor. When they reached their cruising altitude, the president undid his seat belt and looked around the quarters.
“Nice office. Not as big as mine on AF-One, but nice.”
“I’m sorry, Dan. I’m sorry you didn’t get to ride in your usual big toy.” Her arms were folded across her chest and she was looking at him with alternating expressions of fear and hopelessness.
“It that what you think all this is? Toys?”
“I actually don’t know what I think right now. No, actually I do. I think we’ve finally reached rock bottom.”
He took off his shoes, rubbed his feet, and paced around the cabin.
“I don’t even really remember it.”
“I’m sure you don’t. But I do.”
“I’ve changed.”
“Okay.”
“I have, Jane. And you damn well know it.”
“Okay, you’ve changed. That does not help the present situation.”
He sighed and sat down next to her, massaging her shoulders. “I know it doesn’t. I know this has been hell for you.”
She slowly looked at him. “He took Willa because of this.”
“So you told me. No, so you
screamed
at me.”
“You said you couldn’t compromise the office of the president in order to get her back.”
“That’s right, Jane. I can’t. Even if this mess weren’t my responsibility I couldn’t.”
“Our responsibility.”
“Jane—”
She took his hand in hers. “Ours, she said softly.”
“I don’t know why you ever stayed with me, really.”
“I love you. Sometimes I don’t know why, but I do. I attached my star to yours, Dan. We shot to the sky together.”
“And we may fall back to earth just as fast.”
“We may.”
“This election is mine to lose. Haven’t had one of those in this country in a while.” She said nothing. He glanced at her. “Do you think he’ll keep his word? If we do what he asked?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know the man. All I know is that he sounded like someone who had it all figured out. Not just us, but what he wants.”
“The Secret Service is very upset at all this.”
Jane looked like she wanted to laugh. “I’m very upset too. And regardless of how this turns out, they’ll still have a job. I can’t say the same about
you
.”
“About
us
,” he reminded her.
“You know, a little self-control, that’s all it would’ve taken.”
“It was like a disease. You know it was. In all honesty I have to say I’m stunned actually that nothing has ever come up before now.”
“Stunned? Really? When I was behind you all the time picking up the pieces? And you’re stunned?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“What other way could you possibly have meant it?”
“Now is not the time to be divided, Jane. We have to stand together on this. If we’re going to survive.”
“I guess we’ll have all of our golden years in which to fight.”
“If that’s what you want,” he said coldly.
“What I want is not to be on this plane going to where we’re going.”
“How did he sound on the phone?”
“Determined. Full of anger and hatred. Can you blame him?”
“You think he was being straight? I mean, it seems like such a small thing to do in return for, you know…”
“Would you rather he killed Willa?” she said darkly.
“That wasn’t my point! Don’t put words in my mouth.”
A knock at the door interrupted this bickering.
It was Larry Foster, the protection detail chief. “Sir, the flight crew has our ETA into Huntsville in about one hour and thirty minutes. It’s fortunate that they just opened a new runway that’ll support an aircraft in this class.”
“Fine, right.”
“And then we are to go on to another location.”
“You were given the coordinates.”
“Yes sir. We have them.”
“Well, is there a problem?”
“Sir, can I speak frankly?”
Cox glanced at his wife and then turned back to Foster. “Go ahead,” he said tersely.
“This whole thing is a problem. We have no idea where we’re going, or what we’ll be confronted with. I’m understaffed on this and don’t have even one-quarter of our regular support and equipment. My strong recommendation is that we turn around and head back to D.C.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Sir, I’m very strongly recommending that we don’t go through with this.”
“I’m the president. I just wanted to go for an unscheduled trip. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Foster cleared his throat. His clenched hands evidenced the anger that he was feeling but trying hard not to show. “The other issue is we don’t have a motorcade, sir. And the destination in question is about eighty miles southeast of the airport in Huntsville.”
“We have to get there”—Cox checked his watch—”in exactly four hours and seven minutes.”
“I had a C-130 fly ahead of us with two choppers on it. It’ll take a little bit of time to get the choppers out and be ready to go.”
“You have the timetable. And we cannot miss that deadline.”
“Sir, if you could just fill me in on what’s going on? I know the director has spoken with you and he supports my position, but—”
Cox pointed a finger at him. “The
director
serves at my pleasure. I can replace him tomorrow. And I will if I get any more flack from him. I want you to just do what you’re told. I am the commander in chief. If you won’t do it, then I’ll get the damn Army to take over.
They
won’t question my authority.”
Foster stood very straight. “Mr. President, by federal law we provide your principal protection.” He glanced at Jane. “
Both
your protection. What is going on right now is completely unprecedented and potentially very dangerous. We’ve had no opportunity to check out where we’re going. No recon, no threat assessment, no—”
“Look, Larry,” Cox said in a calmer tone. “I know this is all screwed up. I don’t want to be doing this either.” He motioned in the direction of his wife. “She doesn’t want to be here either. But here we are.”
“Does this have to do with your niece?” Larry was asking this of Jane Cox. “If so, I think at the very least the FBI should be informed of what we’re doing.”
“We can’t do that.”
“But—”
Cox put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I trust you to protect us,
Larry. You’ll have time to check things out, as much time as I can give you. I’m not foolhardy. I’m not going to walk into something that will get me killed, much less my wife. It’ll be okay.”
Foster said slowly, “All right, sir, but if things look out of whack, I’m pulling the plug. I can exercise that authority, sir. I have it by federal statute.”
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
After Foster left Jane said, “What if
Larry
won’t let you do what you need to do?”
“That’s not going to happen, Jane.”
“Why not?”
“I’m still the president. And besides, I’ve led a charmed life. And my luck has not run out. Not yet.”
Jane looked away. “Don’t be too sure,” she said.
He glared at her. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“I’ve been thinking about that all night now. And I haven’t reached a decision yet.”
She left the cabin.
The president sat behind the desk and prayed that he could hold on just one more time.
A
RE YOU
R
UTH
A
NN
?” asked Michelle, her eyes now on the woman and not the weapon.
“How you know my name?”
“Momma, they’re with the government. They’re here about Mr. Sam.”
“You be quiet ’bout Mr. Sam, boy.”
“Ruth Ann,” said Sean, “we don’t want anyone to get hurt, but we think this Mr. Sam has kidnapped a little girl named Willa Dutton.”
“No he ain’t!” Her finger tightened on the trigger.
“Momma, I saw the name down in the room. And her picture. We saw it on the TV.”
“Hush up, Gabriel. I ain’t telling you again.”
“A little girl’s life is at stake,” said Michelle. “A little girl not much older than Gabriel.”
“Mr. Sam ain’t hurting nobody. He ain’t like that.”
“Miss Tippi’s gone, Momma,” said Gabriel.
Ruth Ann’s jaw went slack. “What!”
“She’s not in her room. Mr. Sam took her.”
“Took her where?”
“Don’t know.”
“Ruth Ann, if you let us just look through the house, and we find nothing wrong, we’ll leave,” said Sean. “All we want to do is find Willa and take her back to her family.”
“That the little girl what her momma got killed?” said Ruth Ann, her grip on the shotgun loosening a bit.
“That’s the one.”
“What Mr. Sam got to do with that? You tell me!”
“He may have nothing to do with it. And if he doesn’t, then nothing happens to him. It’s that simple. And if you don’t believe he’s involved than you shouldn’t have a problem with us looking around,” said Michelle.
“Please, Momma, let ’em.”
“Why you so all fired on them doing this, Gabriel?”
“ ’Cause it’s the right thing to do. Mr. Sam, he’d say the same thing if he were here.”
Ruth Ann stared at her son for a long moment, then lowered the shotgun and stepped back.
Sean and Michelle hurried into the foyer of Atlee and stared around.
“Like stepping back into the past,” muttered Sean.
Michelle had her attention on the woman who trailed them. “Ruth Ann, I’d like you to put that gun down and step away from it. Now.” Michelle had her hand on the butt of her pistol.
“Do it, Momma!” Gabriel had tears in his eyes.
Ruth Ann did as she was told and Michelle snagged the gun and emptied out the ammo.
“Gabriel,” said Sean. “What’s this room you’re talking about?”
They trooped down the stairs to the massive door.
“I don’t have the keys. Mr. Sam has ’em.”
“Step back,” said Michelle firmly. They did and she took aim and placed two shots on either side of the lock. Then she holstered her gun, leapt across the space of the hall and leveled a crushing kick right where the lock connected with the doorjamb. It crashed open as Gabriel stared wide-eyed at the woman. Then he glanced over at Sean, who shrugged and smiled.
“She’s always been kind of a show-off,” he said.
They rushed into the room and Gabriel punched the light switch. When Sean and Michelle saw what was on the walls, their mouths gaped. Photos, index cards, written notes on chalkboards, pushpins, string connecting this part and that part.
Sean said, “Gabriel and Ruth Ann, do you know what any of this means?”
“No sir,” said Ruth Ann.
“Who would have done all this?” he asked.
“Mr. Sam,” said Gabriel. He added, “I came down here one night when he wasn’t around. That’s when I saw the picture of that girl, right there.”
He pointed to a section of wall. A moment later Sean and Michelle were staring at a photo of Willa.
When Sean’s gaze swung around the walls he froze on one spot. “Ruth Ann, Gabriel, you need to wait outside.”
“What?” said Gabriel. “Why?”
“Outside, right now!”
He hustled them through the doorway and then closed it, returning to stare at the picture of the woman.
“Sean, what is it?”
“You remember me telling you how I met Jane Cox?”
“Yeah, you brought her drunken senator husband home after you found him in a car with some tramp.”
Sean pointed at the picture. “That’s the tramp.”
It was a picture of a younger Diane Wohl.
Michelle eyeballed the photo. “
She
was with Cox?”
Sean nodded. “The name next to the photo says Diane Wohl, but that’s not the name she used back then. I mean her first name I think was Diane, but I don’t remember Wohl.”
“She might have changed it, or gotten married.” She gazed at another spot where a string from Wohl’s name intersected with another index card.
“Diane
Wright
? That ring any bells?” she read off the card.
“That’s it. That was her name!”
He pointed to a recent newspaper article pinned next to the photo. It reported the disappearance and presumed kidnapping of Diane Wohl from Georgia.
“He’s got Diane Wright too,” said Sean. He pointed to the walls. “This all tells a story, Michelle. Quarry has put all this together.”