Page 78 of Making It Live!

He was announcing it.

The elevator to the executive floor felt like an eternity.

"Nelson.Tell me what you're going to do."

"I'm talking to Bruce."

"That is not a plan.That is a sentence."

He squeezed my hand once and let it go as the doors opened.

* * *

Bruce's outer office had a glass desk, a wall of orchids he did not personally water, and a woman named Maggie who had survived four VPs by being polite, fast, and unreadable.She was halfway through a sip of coffee when we walked in.

Maggie set the cup down very carefully.

"Nelson."She rose."Bruce is — he's prepping for the nine o'clock.Would you like me to —"

"No."

"I can absolutely fit you in at —"

"Maggie."Nelson gave her the smile he gave to dishonorable politicians.The one that meant this is not personal, get out of my way."I'm going in.No calls.No interruptions.Whatever's on his calendar — push it."

"Mr.Mackenzie, I really —"

Nelson was already at the door.

I had time to see Maggie's face do a very small, very controlled thing — halfthank God it's not meand halfI should warn him— and then Nelson pushed Bruce's door open with the heel of his hand and walked into his office.I followed because I didn't know what else to do.

Bruce was at his desk with his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear and a half-eaten croissant on a paper plate.He looked up.

I have stood on a tarmac in Mogadishu while a man my age explained to me, very calmly, that he intended to die that afternoon.I've watched faces do remarkable things under pressure.

Bruce's face, in the half-second he registered Nelson and then me behind him, did something I hadn't seen before.The blood left it.Then it came back in patches — across the cheekbones, up the throat — like somebody had thrown a switch.His free hand went to his tie.

"I'll — I'll call you back," he said into the phone, and missed the cradle on the first try.

Nelson shut the door behind us.Quietly.The click was the loudest thing in the room.

He turned without looking at me, eyes still on Bruce.

"No calls," he said over his shoulder, in the direction of the door, just loud enough for Maggie to hear it from the other side."No interruptions of any kind."

Bruce stood up.

It was a reflex thing.Years of standing up when a powerful person enters your office, the body trying to find an authority that the situation no longer contained.He braced his fingertips on the desk like a man at a podium.

"Nelson.Now — now — this is not —"

"Sit down, Bruce."

"I will not — Nelson, you cannot just — there are processes —"

Nelson didn't say anything.He just stared at him.

I was standing two feet behind his left shoulder and I felt that look even though it wasn't aimed at me.It had no heat in it.It was the temperature of the inside of a refrigerator, and it didn't move.