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“I’m sorry,” Nash said in a tired but sincere voice.
“Don’t be,” she said as she pushed him toward the stairs. “Go upstairs and take a shower. I’ll be up in a minute.”
Nash started walking up the stairs.
“Michael,” his wife said softly, “I know you can’t talk about it, but I’m sorry about what happened today.” Maggie placed her hand on the railing. “I’m sure you knew some of those people who were killed.”
With a blank stare Nash looked past his wife into the near dead embers in the study’s fireplace. He didn’t have it in him right now to tell her that Jessica was dead. For some reason he couldn’t picture any of the faces of those who had died. In a detached voice, Nash said, “It wasn’t a good day for us.”
She rubbed his hand. “I’m sorry, honey.”
Nash looked down at her beautiful, perfect face and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.”
He climbed the stairs and was about to check on each of the kids, when he decided he’d better shower first. They did not need to see their father in the dead of night in a bloody shirt. Nash peeled off his clothes and stepped into the shower. As the hot water cascaded down his shoulders, he took a deep breath, and as the tension began to release, the faces came to him. Chris Johnson was first. He imagined what his final hours must have been like, and shuddered to think of the pain they’d put him through. Then the images of the people he worked with at the NCTC. He thought of Jessica lying there with a bullet hole in her head. He thought of her little boys. They were only nine and six. Their mother gone forever.
A lump welled up in Nash’s throat. He tried to fight it, but there was no stemming the tide. The tears began to fall. Nash slowly sank to the floor of the shower. As the water poured down on him his chest heaved and he began to sob uncontrollably. He was not all right.
CHAPTER 76
LONSDALE stood on the terrace of her Capitol office. As she looked to the north she could see the glow of the emergency lights coming from the other side of the Dirksen Senate Office building. The recovery operation there had ended only a few hours ago, roughly thirty hours after the attack. One survivor, an employee of the restaurant, had been found in the basement. Everyone else was dead. Seven United States senators and another nine high-level staffers, including her own chief of staff, Ralph Wassen. Seventy-three had perished in the Monocle attack alone. The death toll for the day stood at 185 killed and another 211 wounded.
Lonsdale took a drag off her cigarette and thought how quickly her entire life had been turned upside down. A little less than a day and a half ago she’d been sitting in her other office too embarrassed to make a lunch date with a reporter. She was devastated over the loss of Wassen. He was her oldest friend and closest confidant. The fact that she had asked him to go in her place only added guilt to the grief. How had she ever been so blind to the threat? She had asked herself the question a hundred times in just a day.
At the moment the press did not concern her, although she knew they would come after her soon enough. With five years left in her term, she wasn’t so sure she’d seek reelection. She knew what she must do, though. It had come to her during her sleepless night while she tossed and turned with self-recrimination. Words kept coming at her like big, bold headlines at the top of a newspaper: Naïve, Self-Righteous, Foolish, Idiotic, Irrational, Sanctimonious. The list went on and on. She had been so convinced that she was right that she had fallen prey to one of Washington’s oldest games. Rather than taking a hard, serious look at the issue, she gravitated toward a position that would give her the most political clout. And then in an effort to further delude herself, she had assigned ignoble characteristics to her enemies—Kennedy, Rapp, Nash, and many others. She had convinced herself that they were the real threat.
Now, with the echo of the blasts still reverberating around the world, the charade was over. Two choices lay before her, and although Wassen was not here to consult, she knew what his advice would be. She looked at the Supreme Court, and felt a stab of regret. Of all the buildings on Capitol Hill, the court perhaps meant the most to her. Her decision would not be without some discomfort.
“Senator Lonsdale,” the voice of a staffer called from the doorway. “Your visitors are here.”
Lonsdale stabbed her cigarette out and turned. She waved for the staffer to bring them out. “You can leave now, Stephanie. I’ll lock up.” Lonsdale watched her aide leave and the two men step onto the terrace. She did not expect this to be easy, but it was something that had to be done.
The two stone-faced men approached and stopped eight feet short of Lonsdale. Rapp looked at her and said, “You wanted to see us, Senator?”
“Yes,” Lonsdale said a bit anxiously. “I hear you have some leads.”
Rapp and Nash nodded but neither verbally confirmed the comment.
“The president told me you think three of the terrorists are still at large.”
“That’s right,” Rapp said.
“And you think you’ll catch them?”
Rapp shrugged. “That all depends, ma’am?”
“On what?”
“Our rules of engagement,” Nash said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.
Lonsdale nodded and reached for another cigarette. “This isn’t easy for me, gentlemen,” she said as she flicked her lighter and took in a draw, “but I have to say this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted, I’m sorry for the way I have called your characters into question, and I’m sorry that my interference in your investigation may have hindered your ability to prevent this attack.”
Rapp and Nash exchanged a surprised look. They thought Lonsdale wanted to see them so she could explain her momentary lapse of composure when she’d slapped Aabad yesterday afternoon. Rapp nodded his acceptance and said, “Thank you, and I’m sorry about your chief of staff, Ralph Wassen. I didn’t know him, but he seemed like a very nice man.”
“He was the best.” Lonsdale folded her arms across her chest and her eyes became unfocused in thought. After a moment she said, “He thought very highly of you two.”
“Us?” Nash said with surprise.
