She stepped closer and put a comforting hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Jack. I know the two of you were close.”
He nodded somberly. He had met Moore in college, and although they’d gone their separate ways immediately after—John to law school and Jack serving in the Marines—they had stayed in close touch over the years.
“He was one of those larger-than-life people. When I considered who might be effective running Commerce, John came straight to mind. He was so good at…” The gears in his head seemed to disengage. “Monica?”
“She was with him, like always.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah, she was one of the good ones.”
“Is there any hint of…you know.”
“This happened only a few hours ago. The initial reports are just coming in from first responders. The State Department is sending down a team from the embassy in Istanbul. So far there’s no suggestion that this was an attack of any kind, but our information is extremely limited. And we also have to consider the other complication.”
“Fulcrum.”
“It does seem like an incredible coincidence. Given the circumstances, I thought you’d want to head into the office.”
Ryan didn’t even feign surprise. Mary Pat had distilled the situation faultlessly. She had weighed the event, the consequences, his reaction, and come up with a course of action.
“Yeah, you’re right. Let me go throw on some better clothes. I’ll be ready in five.”
Mary Pat looked up at Cathy, who was still on the porch. The somber look on her face was clear. “I guess you overheard?” Mary Pat said.
“Enough. That’s terrible news. Elaine wasn’t with him, was she?” Cathy asked, referring to Moore’s wife.
“No, she didn’t go on this trip. I guess there’s always something to be thankful for. Someone from Commerce is on the way to their house to make the notification.”
“Can you let me know when that’s been done? I’d like to reach out to her afterward.”
“Absolutely. I’m sure she’d appreciate that.” Mary Pat didn’t ask Cathy if she was going to join them for the trip to the White House. The First Lady had been spending most of her time here lately, coming into D.C. only for special events. The Ryan family had gone through a lot over the years, and its matriarch had been at the epicenter. Cathy was a practicing physician, but in recent months, when she wasn’t seeing patients or performing surgery, she increasingly seemed to end up here.
Mary Pat walked back to the helo and disappeared inside.
Minutes later, Jack returned to the porch. He shrugged on his best tweed blazer.
“I’m sorry about John,” she said.
“Not as sorry as I am. This could be on me.”
Her expression turned doubtful. “What are you talking about?”
He looked at his wife plaintively, desperately. As was too often the case, he had to rely on their unspoken contract. The one that bridged the awkward divide between their strong marriage and his unfathomably demanding job. Sometimes silence had to suffice.
She pulled him close and held him for a moment. “It’s okay,” she whispered in his ear. “We’ll talk about it later. But whatever happened, this wasnotyour fault.”
He pulled back, and the look in his eyes said otherwise.
Jack Ryan gave the love of his life a failed smile and trotted across the lawn. He slowed at the helicopter’s boarding stairs to return the salute of the waiting enlisted Marine. “Semper fi, Marine,” Ryan said.
“Semper fi, Mr. President,” the young man replied enthusiastically.
For all his years in office, even in the most dire and distracting moments, President Jack Ryan did not waver on customs and courtesies. He took no private pleasure when people saluted him and addressed him as Mr. President. But he expected it. It had nothing to do with ego. It was about traditions, about respecting the chain of command. Ryan had learned that as a lieutenant in the Marine Corps, and it would carry on long after he was gone.
He stepped up into the VH-92A, and at that moment it became Marine One. Seconds later, the engine noise rose to a crescendo and the pilot hauled up on the controls. The grass rippled in waves, and soon the big chopper was thundering northward up the bay.
3
