49

The news out of Washington dominated the chatter in Virginia Beach prior to the Memorial Day ceremony. Admiral Paul Towers and his chief of staff, Daniel Reese, spent a half hour before the service in the ballroom of a Hilton hotel next to Neptune’s Park mingling with the families of the slain SEALs. Daniel was cordial to Kristen and Paige, as if the awkward phone call two days earlier had never happened, but he was also stiff and formal. It seemed to Paige that he was uncomfortable around her, perhaps because she had mentioned his prior visit at the court hearing.

The security for the event that day was airtight. The FBI and local police had cleared out every guest room in the Hilton overlooking the park. Police snipers were stationed on the roofs of nearby buildings. Uniformed officers by the dozens mingled with the crowd and established perimeter entry points, where they searched guests for weapons or explosives.

The place was packed, the sun was blazing, and Admiral Towers delivered a stirring speech. It had been rumored that he was going to blast the president by talking about the bravery of the SEALs who had died and the fact that no SEAL should ever be left behind. He was also supposedly going to ask the president to stop using the state secrets doctrine as a shield in the Anderson lawsuit and voluntarily testify about what she knew and when she knew it.

But none of that happened. Perhaps Towers was too much the soldier to criticize his commander in chief, or perhaps he had changed the speech after the assassination attempt. Either way, his remarks were devoid of any political overtones or references to the president.

For Paige, it was good to be back with the family members of the other SEALs. It wasn’t until she was leaving the ceremony and bumped into Wyatt Jackson that her mood soured.

“They’re saying it’s a lone gunman,” Wyatt said, his voice so low that only Paige could hear. “Another Islamic terrorist.”

“I know. I saw the reports.”

“Bad break for us. In one day, the president goes from Richard Nixon to JFK. She’s lucky—what else can you say?”

Paige didn’t even bother responding to the tasteless comment. She had actually been impressed that despite the assassination attempt, the president had still delivered her speech at Arlington. But why should Paige waste her breath trying to convince Wyatt Jackson of anything?

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, peeling off and walking in another direction. It had already been a stressful day, and she didn’t need Wyatt making it worse.

WASHINGTON, D.C.

Philip Kilpatrick got a call from the president at nine o’clock that night.

“I need you to free up one of my evenings in the next two weeks,” Hamilton said.

Kilpatrick sighed. He spent half his life negotiating the president’s schedule. Every minute was accounted for. He would squeeze crucial meetings into tiny slots and find ways of turning down thousands of important people. It was easier to pass a piece of major legislation than to free up a night of the president’s schedule.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“I’m throwing a pizza party for our Secret Service detail. I want to invite all of their spouses and kids. I should have never put them in the position that I did.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll see what I can do,” Kilpatrick promised. “And by the way, Madam President, I’ve ordered an indoor rowing machine.”