The Jefferson sailed on after Rooster sent troops down to take over the cleanup job, and they’d been asked to anchor right off the coast close to the capital. Aidan looked out at the media crews that had been allowed on her ship and shook her head. This was way out of her norm, but President Michaels wanted the American people to know their lives would return to normal now that Chandler was dead and the folks who’d followed him were either dead or jailed. At least they’d invited her parents as well as Berkley’s, and she was looking forward to celebrating with them later.
“Jefferson, this is Air Force One. Permission to land, ma’am,” Berkley said, and she sounded happy. It’d been a week since that night on the beach, and Rooster had slowed their return until they could put all this together.
“Permission granted, Cletus.”
Berkley came around and buzzed the bridge before she circled and landed on the deck. Once the engines were cut and the cockpit was open, Aidan had Devin call everyone to attention. The first person out of the plane was Berkley, and she helped the president down the stairs.
Olivia gave her speech from the podium below the bridge, and as with her eulogy for Peter, it was one of her most heartfelt. “In closing,” Olivia said as they bobbed gently in the water, everyone appearing happy with the cloudless sky and their surroundings, “I’d like to thank every person who made this mission a success. We’re all in your debt for giving us back our peace of mind and bringing to justice those working for Dick Chandler and his family.”
Everyone stood and applauded, and she joined them. Hell, Dick Chandler was dead, Marcus Newton was keeping Rachel and Jeffery Chandler company, and the feds were working through the complete list Chandler had amassed. Most of those people who’d been arrested were scattered around various federal facilities, the most dangerous going to Gitmo.
“Thank you for everything, ma’am,” Aidan said as Berkley walked over to join her and President Michaels, “and for having faith in us to finish the job.”
“Please, Aidan, it’s me who should be thanking you and Cletus,” Olivia said, taking their hands. “I know you plan to retire, but if you want, you both have a job with me.” The White House photographer took a picture of the three of them first, then with their parents, promising to deliver framed copies.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Berkley said, but shook her head. “We’re not Washington material, but we’d love for you to join us for a visit if you get a chance to visit New Orleans.”
“I’m coming sooner rather than later, I hope. After all, Preston promised me a good party, so don’t worry. I wouldn’t miss it.”