6:05 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time
Camp David
Catoctin Mountain Park
Thurmont, Maryland
“It’s a beautiful morning.”
Lawrence Keller walked the quiet, wooded path with David Barrett in the first light of day. The sky was pale blue, with shades of pink and yellow where the sun was rising. There was a slight chill in the air, which would soon burn off. It was shaping up to be a very nice day. Somewhere, a crow cackled, and further away, another one answered.
Since the days of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Presidents had used this as their country retreat, and as a place to host foreign dignitaries in a relaxed atmosphere, and Keller could see why.
He mused that it would be just like a Robert Frost poem, except for the six big Secret Service men spread out behind them, and in front of them, and off to their sides. The men murmured into their collar microphones as they moved along. Their voices could be the sound of a small stream.
David Barrett walked slowly and thoughtfully.
“I’ll never forget what you did, Lawrence.”
He said it pleasantly enough. But he left the statement there, and left Keller to wonder about its meaning. It was fitting to walk in nature like this, and to have the President drop a mysterious Zen koan on him.
What had he done, in David Barrett’s eyes? Taken control during a bad situation, when Barrett was clearly out of control? Put Barrett on the sidelines until his daughter was safe, and he could pull himself together? Derailed a misguided attempt to start World War Three?
Or was it that he had betrayed David, taping him in the Oval Office during his most vulnerable moments, and then using that tape against him?
Keller had done all of these things. But what did Barrett think he had done?
“What are your plans, David?” Keller said.
Barrett took a deep breath. “This is the happiest day of my life, so first of all, I’m going to enjoy it. I’m going to thank God for my many blessings, and take stock of what the future holds. They’ve flown Elizabeth to a hospital in Germany, and she’s still en route there, but everyone assures me she’s doing fine. Later this morning, Marilynn, Caitlynn, and I are all going to fly out there to be with her. It’s going to be one heck of a family reunion.”
He stopped and looked down at Keller. “Is that what you mean?”
Keller shrugged. “Sure. That, and when do you think you’ll be coming back to work? You are the President of the United States, after all. The country needs you. I’m not really sure Mark Baylor is cut out for the job.”
There was a mischievous twinkle in Barrett’s eyes. He started walking again. “Some people are meant to be President, and some people are meant to be Vice President,” he said.
“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” Keller said.
“I think I’ll be in Germany for a few days until Elizabeth is ready to come home. Then I’ll take a couple more days here at Camp David with the whole family. My mom and dad will probably come up and stay, too.”
“That’s nice.”
“So, I’ll be out of commission for another week or so. I talked to Mark late last night, and he’s willing to hold the reins for a bit longer.”
“Good,” Keller said. “And I’ll be there to look over his shoulder.”
Barrett shrugged. “Well, that’s why I bring it up. Mark would like to move you over to Legislative Affairs for now. He thinks you’re a bit of a hothead. And he’s got his own Chief of Staff, as you know. He’s concerned that having you around will be stepping on his guy’s toes, and I told him that would be fine.”
Keller nodded. “I see. Okay.”
“Yeah, I’ll be honest with you, Lawrence. I’ve been contemplating a similar move for some time. How are you doing? I mean, you seem a little burnt out to me, like you’re just not enjoying this anymore. I’ve been worried about you, and I was going to do something about it, but then this whole Elizabeth fiasco happened.”
Keller felt his heart speed up. A flush began to creep up his neck.
“I’m feeling fine. Never better, really.”
Barrett went on as if Keller hadn’t spoken at all. “You know Kathy Grumman from State? She’s a real whip. I’m going to bring her on to tidy things up a bit.”
“As Chief of Staff?” Keller said.
Barrett nodded. “Think of Legislative Affairs as a lateral move, Lawrence. You’ll keep the same salary as you have now, with all the same benefits. And the hours will be better. They’re regular nine-to-fivers most of the time, unless we’re trying to push a bill through. I’m going to need you to ride herd on a few of our reluctant friends in the House. You’ll be reporting to Mike Donovan. Do you know Mike? He’s been working Capitol Hill for about a decade.”
“I’ll be reporting… to Mike?”
Lawrence Keller had never met Mike Donovan, but he knew who he was. He was about thirty-seven years old, the son of the obnoxious, bulbous, alcoholic former Congressman from Massachusetts, Mickey Donovan.
Mike Donovan was a prep school jerk. He had strolled into his job because of nepotism. And he was fifteen years younger than Lawrence Keller.
Barrett nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Mike’s the Director of Legislative Affairs. I like him. You’ll be his Assistant Director.”
They walked along the path in silence for a moment.
“What do you think?” Barrett said.
What did he think?
Lawrence Keller thought one thing was for certain: he was NOT going to work for Mike Donovan at Legislative Affairs. If David Barrett wanted to push Keller out because he made a tape of an Oval Office conversation, so be it. But he’d better watch his back. Keller hadn’t gotten where he was by nepotism—he’d clawed his way there. And he would claw David Barrett’s eyes out.
“What do I think? I think your daughter Elizabeth is a very irresponsible young woman, who caused the needless deaths of dozens of people, and who almost sparked a world war.”
* * *
Beautiful.
David Barrett was feeling such a surge of joy that even his early meeting with Lawrence Keller couldn’t drag him down. Keller was a problem, that was true. He was untrustworthy. Apparently, he’d had an outburst during deliberations in the Situation Room, and had yelled at a general.
Lawrence Keller did not fit the suit. Short, angry, uncultured, that was Keller in a nutshell. He was banished to Legislative Affairs for now, but he would almost certainly try to claw his way back into relevance. David would have to keep an eye on him.
No matter. Elizabeth was alive, the birds were singing, and David was President of the United States. All was right with the world.
Forget about Keller.
This next meeting was the one he was really looking forward to. He sat in the rustic, sun-dappled great room of the main house. When he was a child, he would stare at photographs in magazines of Dwight Eisenhower and Jack Kennedy entertaining foreign heads of state in this very room, and he would think:
“That’s going to be me one day.”
Amazing. He shook his head at the wonder of it.
His guest walked in and David rose to meet him. David was a bit taller than the man, but it didn’t matter. The guest was so impressive physically, that David almost felt diminished in his presence. The man was broad and muscular. His eyes were sharp and intelligent and aware, in a face that looked like it had been carved from granite. His body seemed to radiate electricity. He looked like a man who never slept and who never needed to sleep. The only concessions he’d made to age were the gray in his flattop haircut, and the crow’s feet around his eyes.
He was Don Morris, decorated combat veteran of many wars, pioneer of the very concept of military special operations, and the Director of the brand new FBI Special Response Team. His agents had saved Elizabeth’s life.
He wore dress pants and a dark blazer. His light blue dress shirt was open at the collar. He was meeting the President of the United States, and he dressed down! It was perfect. The man was a legend.
“Mr. President,” he said, extending a hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
Barrett took Morris’s hand. He noted that Morris’s handshake was firm, but not too firm. There was the sense that the man was holding back tremendous strength, which could crush David Barrett’s hand to mulch.
Barrett shook his head. “Ah, Don. Call me David, please. Won’t you sit down? What can we get for you? Anything at all. Water, soda? Beer? I know it’s early, but if you want something, you can have it. We can have them make us lunch.”
Morris shook his head. “No sir. I’m fine. Thank you. That’s very kind.”
They sat down.
“I know we’ve talked once before, haven’t we?”
Don nodded. “Yes sir. We talked briefly on the phone just a few weeks ago.”
“That’s great,” David said. “I remember that.” He felt foolish. These pleasantries were not at all what he wanted to come out of his mouth.
“I want to tell you how grateful I am, how grateful my wife is, and our parents. I think we are the most grateful family in America at this moment. We owe you a debt that we can never adequately repay.”
Don shrugged. “Sir, I appreciate that. But I had very little to do with the operation that saved your daughter. It happened because of the initiative, and frankly, the guts, shown by our field agents Luke Stone and Edward Newsam. And they had a big assist from our intelligence team, from a covert CIA agent it’s better if I do not name, crack helicopter pilots, and dozens of on the ground troops. A lot of people made this thing happen.”
“I know. I know that,” David Barrett said. “It’s wonderful the people who do these dangerous jobs. But I’ll tell you, I’m fascinated by the career you’ve had and the work you do. I’m very excited that you’ve started this new agency, and I want to meet your people. The best of the best, isn’t that what you told me? Like a civilian Delta Force?”
Morris nodded. “That is exactly what I said. You have an excellent memory.”
“Well, Don, I’m hoping we can all work closely together going forward.”
Don Morris smiled.
“I would like that, sir. I hope we can, too.”