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“Cole—Captain Coleman. I didn’t know—I didn’t expect—”
“Sandy said you called,” said Cole. “And then when you found out I worked with Torrent, you suddenly didn’t want to talk to me.”
Sandy was way too observant.
“But I’ve kind of been waiting for you to call,” said Cole. “When you sort of backed off from talking to me a few weeks ago, I figured you wanted to wait. Or something. But . . . you know I really liked your kids. I don’t want to lose contact with you. I only knew Rube—Major Malich—for a few days, but . . . “He took a deep breath.” Look, I was hoping there’d be cookies.”
She laughed and ushered him into the kitchen. Mark and Nick were still up and they remembered Cole and practically tackled him and dragged him to the floor. Well, Mark did. Nick just watched him, but Cecily saw how his eyes glowed. Cole had made an impression on her sons.
They didn’t talk about Reuben. They didn’t talk about world affairs. Instead Cole asked the boys about things they were doing. They ate ice cream. Cole demonstrated how cupcakes don’t actually have to be bitten into, you can jam a whole one in your mouth at once. Then he made a show of choking before he swallowed it all. “The bad thing,” he said, “is when you cough icing out of your nose.”
At ten o’clock Cecily sent the boys to bed.
“I’ll go now,” said Cole. “It’s late for you, too.”
“No,” she said. “Stay. I do want to talk to you.”
He answered softly, so the boys wouldn’t hear. “It’s about Torrent, right? I’m not married to him. I’m assigned to him.”
“His request?”
“He’s vetting the White House staff and the Pentagon. Working with the FBI to isolate the ones who should be under suspicion so the rest can breathe easy again.”
“That sounds like an awfully controversial job for somebody who claims to be against divisiveness,” said Cecily.
“That’s just the point. He’s the one that everybody will accept as being impartial and not politically motivated. He doesn’t have a history with anyone.”
“Actually,” said Cecily, “he does.”
They went down into the basement. Into the office. There she laid out the translations of Reuben’s class notes. “First things first,” she said. She handed him a paper with one paragraph circled.
“Augustus Caesar,” he said. “So?”
She handed him another.
“Augustus again.”
And another.
“He’s a history professor,” said Cole. “Augustus is history.”
“Three different classes, Cole,” said Cecily. “Only one of them even vaguely dealt with Rome.”
“You’re building a case, I see,” said Cole. “So . . . build it.”
“Read what Reuben said right after that paragraph.”
Cole read it aloud. “ ‘Roman Empire an obsession? Especially Augustus and Trajan’—you didn’t show me any Trajan notes.”
“Keep reading.”
“ ‘Heroes of his. Guy watches two sides fight it out in civil wars. Then steps in, puts a stop to it, Rome hails him as hero who brings peace and unity. Shows great respect to Senate, republican form of government. Modesty. But rules with iron hand. Torrent suffers from empire envy? Always says American empire can’t fall because we’re still in republic phase, not an empire yet. Wishing he could play Augustus and start one?’ ”
Cole set down the paper and leaned back in the chair. “So you think Torrent—what, set up a civil war just so he could come in and be the great conciliator?”
“I’ve read a lot about Augustus and Trajan, since getting these notes translated,” said Cecily. “They were great emperors. Not cruel. They really did seem to want to maintain stability within the empire. Bring Rome to its true destiny. Improve life for everybody.”
“So they were decent guys.”
