First Lady (18 page)
Dev pushed off the desk and moved toe to toe with the older man. He was tall, slim, distinguished-looking, with a head of short silver hair and a small, neatly trimmed mustache. He reminded her vaguely of her father. “I’ll need a full briefing on those risks, Secretary Krenshaw.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And Jerry?”
He glanced at her in question.
“I want as many specifics as we’ve got time for. Educate me.”
Unconsciously, he squared his shoulders. “Yes, Madam President.”
Dev began to pace, thinking out loud. “Freedom Six has six crew members aboard, correct?”
Several men and women were nodding, but it was the director of the CIA who spoke. “Yes, ma’am. Four members of the Navy and two of our own people.” Her expression grew even more sober. “Including the Vice President’s nephew.”
“I know,” Dev acknowledged quietly.
“M... M... Madam President?” A short, muscular airman handed Devlyn a piece of paper. His face was bright red and Devlyn realized that he was new to his assignment and this was the first time he’d spoken to her.
“Relax,” she said under her breath, allowing a very small smile to cross her face. Normally, she would have taken a moment to speak with the man and introduce herself as a person and not just a title. At the moment, however, she only had time to say, “Good job.”
Such a tiny thing made such a big difference. The airman’s color improved before her eyes. “Thank you, ma’am.” Beaming, he stepped away, disappearing into the crowd of milling people that filled the room as Dev read the note.
And her stomach dropped.
“Shit!” Groaning loud enough to garner everyone’s attention, Devlyn crushed the paper in her hand, her knuckles white.
David was instantly at her side. “Madam President?”
“Freedom Six has been detected.” She handed the wadded up paper to David, her chest feeling tight.
David smoothed the paper against his thigh and passed it along silently, as the appropriate personnel glanced at its contents. There was a flickering of light as new maps and charts materialized in the air around the room’s walls, circling them in neon.
A low murmur washed over the room, and the tension increased ten-fold.
“Ma’am?” The Secretary of the Navy laid a gentle hand on her arm. “We can’t risk that technology being captured.”
Dev turned her eyes to David. “Call Geoff and get him over here.”
David drew in a ragged breath. “Right away.” His voice broke.
While she waited for the Vice President to arrive, Devlyn went into her office and shut the door, closing out the sounds of computer keystrokes and the low rumble of voices. She clicked on the light over her desk, which cast her face in an eerie glow. She pored over the reports, several of them having just been received from Freedom Six’s own crew over secure communication channels. She read them as many times as it took, until she felt she had as firm a grasp as time allowed on the dilemma at hand.
The boat was trapped on a rocky ledge and was without sufficient power to move, the propulsion system damaged beyond immediate repair.
Situation serious. Unable to extract. No casualties. Advise immediately.
God, give me strength. She scribbled a quick note and opened her office door. A communications officer was waiting there. “Send that and let me know as soon as you have a response.
“Understood, ma’am.” The young woman looked at the note. Understand situation. All options being considered. Hold tight. D. Marlowe. “Right away, Madam President.”
David moved around the young woman and gazed at Dev compassionately. “Geoff’s here.”
Dev swallowed hard. “Bring him to the Oval Office to wait. I’ll be right in.”
David’s eyes cast downward. It was times like these that he was very glad he maintained a behind-the-scenes role, forsaking the visible power for something more suited to his personality. And at least one level higher on the rungs of Hell. “Yes, ma’am.”
Dev called the Secretary of the Navy into her Situation Room office and shut the door behind her. When she emerged two minutes later, she looked pale.
She strode through the Situation Room and out into the hallway on her way to the Oval Office, hating every single step she was taking. And dreading what was to come. No option, her mind whispered. It has to be done. She stood outside the door for a long second. Then she sighed and entered.
Geoff was standing, looking out the window over the Ellipse and out to
“It is serious, Geoff.” She gestured to the couch. “Come on, have a seat.”
Geoff deserved the direct approach, not that there was time for much else.
She drew in a deep breath, her ribs expanding fully. “Freedom Six is trapped in the
The blood drained from his face. “Oh, my God. My nephew is an equipment ensign on Freedom Six.”
Dev’s hands shaped into fists, but her voice remained calm. “I know, Geoff. That’s why I called you.” She hesitated and looked deeply into her old friend’s eyes, wondering briefly if she might throw up. “We have to destroy that boat. We can’t risk it being captured. If the equipment on board were captured, it would change the balance of power in the
Middle East
.”
Geoff blinked at her, staring in disbelief. “He’s only 25 years old.”
Dev closed her eyes. “I know. I hate this, Geoff. I can’t tell you how much I hate this. But we don’t have a choice.”
“Don’t,” he stood and looked down at her. “There has to be another way. Have we even tried a rescue?”
Dev shook her head. “Our nearest vessel is over two hours away. The next closest is one of
Britain
’s and that’s three hours out. We don’t have that kind of time.”
“Damn it, Dev!” He scrubbed his face wildly. “What about intercepting the enemy vessel to keep it from reaching Freedom Six?”
“Geoff,” she said gently. “In 15 minutes that submarine will be in enemy hands. We can’t intercept. There’s no time and it would be an unprovoked attack. Freedom Six isn’t in International Waters, Geoff.”
Geoff fell back onto the sofa next to Dev. “Christ.” He looked to her with watery eyes. “An escape pod or hatch or something for the crew?”
Dev gave a quick shake of her head.
“There’s no other way?”
Her expression softened. “I swear there’s not.”
He nodded, resigned to the facts as tears began rolling down his cheeks.
Dev moved off the sofa and knelt in front of him. He was close to breaking apart. “Geoff, they’ve been maintaining radio silence, but I think they deserve the right to hear this from me directly, so I’m going to order a link established. We’ll do our best to scramble it. Would you like a chance to talk to your nephew?”
“Yeah.” He pulled himself from his chair and rubbed his eyes, suddenly looking far older than his years. “Let’s go.”
Back in the Situation Room, everyone watched as they entered and took seats at the head of the table. Dev hit the button on the communications console at her fingers. “Open a visual link with Freedom Six.”
There were murmurs among the collected staff, but within seconds the link flared to life and the captain nodded to the President. “Madam President.” He looked haggard, his skin a ghostly gray in the sub’s emergency lights.
“Captain, I am afraid I don’t have good news.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “We have been preparing for that, ma’am.”
Dev gritted her teeth, forcing back the tears she could feel coming. “We have no choice,” she whispered harshly, hearing several discreet sniffs from somewhere behind her.
The captain looked away, remaining silent for several long seconds. When he turned back to her, his cheeks were wet. “We would like to send a transmission for you to give to our families.”
“I’ll deliver them personally,” Dev swore fervently, her emotions threatening to surface. “The bravery of you and your crew in the face of the impossible is astounding, Captain.”
The captain sighed heavily. “We’ve transmitted as much data as possible to help in determining what went wrong.”
Dev nodded. “Is Ensign McQuire present? The Vice President would like to speak with him.”
“Of course.”
The image shifted to a young man who could have been Geoff’s son. “Mr. Vice President,” he greeted weakly, doing his best to smile bravely, though his chin was noticeably quivering.
“Jack,” the man’s voice cracked, and Devlyn stood and rubbed his back gently, not giving a damn what it looked like. “I wanted… wanted to tell you, I love you.”
For a moment it didn’t look like the ensign was going to hold it together long enough to respond. Finally, he whispered, “I love you too, Uncle Geoff. Please ta… take care of Mom for me.”
“You know I will, son.” A pained pause. “If there was any other way—”
“I know,” he answered bleakly.
An aide stepped close to her and let her know that all information had been received from the boat and they were prepared to take the next, inevitable step.
“Ensign McQuire, Jack, I need to speak to the captain.” I’m sorry.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Dev firmed her jaw. “Captain, I can do this remotely from here, or you and I can enter the codes together.”
“This boat and her crew are my responsibility. I’ll set the codes from my end.”
David handed a black envelope to Dev, and she cracked the seal. A trickle of sweat rolled down her back, causing an involuntary shiver to wash over her. As she slid the key card and the destruct codes from it, the captain was doing the same thing aboard the submarine. “I’m ready when you are, ma’am.” She could hear the Lord’s Prayer being recited somewhere behind the captain, and several people in the Situation Room joined in the barest of whispered voices.
Dev glanced sideways at Geoff with watery eyes. “Do you want to leave?”
He shook his head curtly. “No. I’m staying.”
“All right,” she whispered, laying everything out in front of her and reading the card. Through force of will alone, she managed to keep her hand from shaking as she picked up the key card and swiped it through the console in front of her. “Enter six, three, seven, three, five, seven, six.”
The image of the captain could be seen punching in the numbers as directed. “Destruct protocol in place,” he told her dutifully.
Dev stared at the man in something close to awe.
“I don’t know what to say to you or your crew.”
He sniffed once. “There’s nothing to say, Madam President.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Dev’s jaw silently worked for a few seconds. It felt as though 10 men were standing on her chest. “God bless.”
A computer-generated voice began a count down. “Destruct sequence initiated.”
“In five,” Dev’s voice cracked as she laid her hand on the button that she herself was required to push. She quickly made a fist, trying to wipe the sweat from her fingers. “Four, three, two...” As she said "One" she pressed the red button and the link went dead.
Dev closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. She felt a little light headed, but appeared the very picture of calm, contemplative leadership.
The entire room was silent for more than two minutes, each person’s breathing sounding unusually loud in the quiet room. Finally the Secretary of the Navy handed her a piece of paper. “The boat is destroyed, ma’am.”
*
*
*
It was two hours before dawn by the time Devlyn made her way back to her quarters. She’d cleared her calendar for the following morning and left word with David that she wanted to visit the houses of each of the now-deceased servicemen as soon as possible and that the press was not to be informed about the trips.
She slowly pushed open her bedroom door, glad to see Lauren had decided to stay. The younger woman was lying in an uncomfortable position, her glasses still on, her small computer perched on her chest as she slumbered.
Dev used her feet to push off her shoes, then sat down heavily in a red wingback chair near the bed, staring at Lauren with dull eyes as she watched her partner’s chest rise and fall with each peaceful breath. She tried to focus on the woman in front of her, but the night’s events were still too raw to be pushed from the forefront of her mind, no matter how much she tried.
“Destruct sequence initiated.” Stop it! “Please ta… take care of Mom for me.” Her eyes began to burn. “In five, four, three…” STOP IT! She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees and brought her palms to her eyes, feeling her breathing hitch. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.
