Fitzgerald leaned forward at the desk.
“Aimee, I mean no disrespect, but your limited credentials would not withstand the vetting process.” He spoke softly, almost like a father talking with his daughter, looking to find her way in the world.
“None taken, Walt. My résumé is as good as any other member on the staff. I studied at the Kennedy School and my internships more than support thefresh bloodmantra that we’ve been pushing the past year. You’ll think of something, Walt. I have confidence in you.”
She never blinked an eye.
Fitzgerald shifted his body and paused, as if deep in thought. Then he rose from the desk and handed her the sheet of paper.
“This is a nondisclosure agreement between you and me, Aimee. Though Senator Coleman is present, he can never be mentioned as a witness to anything we discuss today.”
Sullivan started to speak, but he held up a hand to silence her.
“We will guarantee you a position on the National Security Adviser’s staff under the following conditions. First, you agree to accept the position of a deputy undersecretary and promise to execute your duties with total support for the Harrison administration. Second, your personal relationship with the senator is officially over, as of now. Third, you agree never to mention thisagreement. Got it? That’s it. You sign it and we’re all friends. But, Aimee, I must warn you: If you renege in any way, shape, or form, I will personally see to it that not only will you never work in politics again, you will spend a very long time in prison.”
Walt Fitzgerald let his last comment linger, then smiled before breaking the silence.
“You’ve done great work, Aimee, and we want you with us for the next eight years. None of us can afford a slipup now. Our team is strong, and we’ll work hard to get you up to speed in the switch from press to national security. In fact, let’s do that on Friday. We’ll also make an announcement of your new role at that time. Are we all in agreement?”
Beaming, Aimee Sullivan scribbled her signature and handed the agreement to Walt.
“Thanks for taking care of this, Walt. I’m excited to work for the president. And since we’re all being honest here, you should know that I do have a video—you’ll get it when we win. And by the way, I went to Georgetown, not Princeton.”
She smiled at both men and left the room.
* * *
Aimee Sullivan walked through the elegant living room of the Nantucket cottage on Baxter Road, pulled out her cell phone, and tapped a number. A female voice answered.
“We’re all set. Friday night. I’ll give you the details later.” Sullivan ended the call and headed to the kitchen in search of some coffee. There was a lot to do before the debate.
* * *
The woman who took Sullivan’s call immediately made another call relaying the identical information.
The man in Paris said nothing.
Elise Courville hung up.
* * *
Walt Fitzgerald walked over to the door and slammed it shut. He stood over the cowering senator and fumed.
“You are a fucking idiot.”
“I didn’t know she had a video, I swear on my life.” Coleman Harrison was almost in tears.
“Never mind,” Fitzgerald said in disgust. “Asking you to grow a backbone is like asking a fish to use its feet. Get your head out of your ass and try to go one goddamn day without fucking me over, okay? I’ve got this taken care of. Just do your thing at the debate so we can get on with everything.”
Harrison had a moment of clarity. “I still don’t understand. How on earth can we pull off getting Aimee the job? There’s no way in hell she’ll pass confirmation.” His personal life might have been a disaster, but Coleman Harrison did know his politics. “How are we possibly going to get this to work?”
“I don’t think you really want to know, Coleman.”
“Of course I do.”
Fitzgerald moved in front of the senator and looked him directly in the eye. “Easy: We kill her.”
“What?!”Harrison felt his stomach drop. His chief of staff was ruthless, but this was insane. “Walt, this has gone too far—I won’t allow it!”
