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“Last I looked Litchfield works for me. And your bird dog was all over things, issuing orders to stand down. Contrary, I might add, to my direct instructions.”
Litchfield sat confident in his chair.
“He did what I told him to do,” the AG-designee said. “I would have terminated her next week anyway.”
“Go screw yourself,” Stephanie said.
Fox, Litchfield, and the new AG looked her way. Even Cotton seemed a little shocked. Cassiopeia just smiled.
“I assume wounds heal better when not constantly reopened,” Fox said to her. “My apology for that comment.”
And if her disrespect offended him, Fox did not show it. Instead, he turned his attention back across the table to his equal. “Why are we here?”
Danny explained everything he knew about Zorin, Fool’s Mate, and the 20th Amendment. She added what she’d learned at Kris Cox’s house, and Cotton filled in what had happened in Siberia and Canada. Since Danny had said nothing about what had just happened in the park, she followed his lead and kept that to herself.
Fox sat back in his chair when they finished. “None of that sounds good.”
“Welcome to my world,” Danny said.
Fox glanced at his AG-designee, then at Litchfield, asking either for his opinion.
“We don’t know a whole lot,” Litchfield said. “Most of it is speculation. Seems the most important questions are first, whether thirty-year-old nuclear devices are still here, and second, whether they’re viable.”
“The Russians definitely think the bombs are here,” she said. “They designed the things to last. So we can’t take the chance that they’re not workable.”
“But you don’t know they exist,” the new AG said. “It could all be nothing, a wild-goose chase. A misdirection by Moscow for something else.”
“We can’t take that chance,” Danny said.
Fox seemed intrigued. “What do you want me to do?”
“Let’s move the inauguration to an undisclosed location. You take the oath there at noon, as the Constitution requires, then we don’t have a problem.”
No one said a word.
Finally, Fox shook his head. “I appreciate what you’re saying. I really do. But moving the swearing-in at this late hour would only raise a million questions, and there’s no way we could keep this under wraps. At this point we don’t even know if it’s a credible threat. The first month of my administration would be consumed with the cable news channels analyzing, speculating, and guessing about what we did. We’d never get on message. I can’t start my presidency with that hanging over me.”
“Would you rather be dead?” Edwin asked.
Which was a fair question, and coming from a man with a mind that cut like a diamond, the question should be taken seriously.
“Is everyone who works for you insubordinate?” Fox asked Danny.
“Not to me.”
Fox smiled.
“At a minimum,” Danny said, “move the vice president’s swearing-in to another location. That way you’re not both in the same spot.”
“And how do we do that without raising the same questions? Everything is set for noon tomorrow with both of us taking the oath together.”
Cotton had sat uncharacteristically quiet, watching the two giants spar. She realized that the decisions Danny wanted made suffered from the weakness of no hard evidence to support them. Fox, and rightly so, would want details to persuade him to follow the plan without adding variations of his own. But she wanted Cotton’s assessment, so she asked him, “You’ve spoken to Zorin. You were there with Vadim Belchenko. Is this real?”
“These men are on a mission. No question.”
“Then by all means,” Fox said, “play this out. Do your job. But we’re not delaying or changing the inauguration until you have something concrete. A true, genuine, verifiable threat. Surely all of you can see the wisdom in that? And besides it all happens tomorrow right here, in the White House. Where else would any of us be safer?”
She knew what he meant.
The Constitution mandated that the outgoing president’s term end precisely at noon on January 20. Usually, that wasn’t a problem. The ceremony occurred in public, outside the Capitol, high on scaffolding, with millions watching. But when January 20 fell on Sunday things had long been different. The new president and vice president would take the oath on Sunday, as required by the Constitution, and then a public celebration, which included a retaking of the oath in the more familiar public setting outside the Capitol, took place the next day.
“I checked,” Fox said. “Since 1937, when the 20th Amendment took effect, three times this has happened on a Sunday. Tomorrow will be number four. I can’t control the calendar or change the Constitution, but I can stick to the plan. And that we’ll do, unless something drastic is discovered.”
“Is that show so important to you?” Danny asked.
“That’s not fair. You had two inaugurals, both extravaganzas I might add. Now it’s my turn.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“But that assumes you’re right about this. What if you’re wrong and I go along with it. Then I look like a fool, following your lead, chasing shadows. Surely you can see that. And by the way, you’re not all that popular with my supporters.”
Stephanie was proud of Danny. He hadn’t lost his temper or his cool. Understandable, given he’d moved with darting ease through political mazes for most of his life. Never had she seen him troubled by confrontation. Instead, he thrived under pressure, seeming to draw strength from it.
“I will do this, though,” Fox said. “Bruce, prepare me some legal background on the 20th Amendment and the Presidential Succession Act. I confess to not being an expert on either. That way, if this materializes into something credible we’ll be ready to make informed decisions.”
Litchfield nodded.
“In the meantime, the rest of you keep working at what you’re doing,” Fox said, “and let’s see what develops. I’m not oblivious to what you’re saying. I just want more before I act. And we have time to make changes, if need be.”
Fox pushed back his chair and he and his AG-designee stood.
Danny pointed at Litchfield. “Take this one with you. The sight of him makes me sick.”
Litchfield stood.
“But before you go,” Danny said. “You need to remedy something.”
Litchfield glanced at Fox.
“What the hell are you lookin’ at him for?” Danny said. “Don’t think for one moment I won’t fire your ass right here, right now. Talk about drawing attention to things.”
Litchfield bristled at the insulting tone, but wisely held his tongue.
“Think about that press conference,” Danny said to Fox. “It’d be a doozy.”
White House reporters were a different breed, the last of the intelligent and tenacious. Definitely not a good place for a new president to be challenged on the eve of inauguration.
So Fox wisely nodded his assent.
Litchfield faced her. “You’re reinstated.” He reached into his pocket, found her badge, and walked it over to her.
Then the three men left the Cabinet Room.
“I told him to bring it,” Danny said to her.
“I’m glad I live in Denmark,” Cotton said. “Those people are foolish.”
“What was asked of them was entirely reasonable,” Edwin said, “given the possible threat.”
“First thing a wing walker wants to know is who’s drivin’ the plane,” Danny said. “Fox came to find that out, and he’s right about one thing. We don’t have spit for proof. Last I heard, Zorin and his pal were still on I-95 headed south. They’re comin’ our way, but for what and where?”
“They’ll all be in one place tomorrow,” Edwin said. “President-elect, vice-president-elect, Speaker of the House, president of the Senate, and all of the cabinet, except one. Right here, in the White House at noon. Let’s just say the unthinkable happens an
d they’re all blown to bits, that means the designated survivor would take command.”
“Who is it this time?” Danny asked.
