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“Stop reminding me,” she muttered.

“That’s my job.”

“You’re no longer my boss.”

“True. I’m just your friend. Look, Barrie.” He paused to take a few wheezing breaths. “You’ve got the world’s approval now. For once, go easy on yourself.”

She resented his tone. “Psychology time, Daily? Time to open up Barrie’s head and see what makes her tick?”

“I already know what makes you tick. More importantly, you know, too.”

“Then why discuss it?” she said angrily.

“Can you look me in the eye and tell me that your motivation for pushing forward with this dangerous story has nothing to do with winning the approval of two people who—”

“Yes, I can look you in the eye and tell you that. Besides, no matter what my motivation is, it’s a story that needs to be told. Agreed?”

“If the story is indeed there, yes,” he answered grudgingly.

“Okay, so stop bringing up my scar-inflicting childhood and help me.”

 

; “How?”

“Who would talk to me? Senator Armbruster?”

Daily shook his head. “No matter what he believed in his heart, he’d take the company line and defend it with his dying breath. He’s a politician down to his toenails. He wouldn’t malign anybody his party placed in the White House, even if it was Jack the Ripper. And certainly not his son-in-law. Almost singlehandedly, he put David Merritt in office.”

“Okay. So, who else knows the Merritts that intimately? If there was someone close to them who’d had a falling out. Or someone who—” Suddenly a fresh thought yanked her up straight. “That—that… soldier who rescued the hostages.”

“Bondurant?”

“Bondurant! Yes! Gary Bondurant.”

“Gray.”

“Right. Gray. He was thick as thieves with the Merritts. Maybe he’d talk to me.”

It hurt Barrie to hear the rasp-gasp-rattle in Daily’s laugh. “You’d have better luck getting an interview with one of the faces on Mount Rushmore. They’re a lot friendlier and more talkative than Bondurant. He’s about as approachable as a cobra.”

“What’s his story? Where’d he come from?”

Daily shrugged. “Your guess is as good as anybody’s.”

“He didn’t just materialize when Merritt appointed him as adviser,” she said with frustration.

“But it looks that way,” Daily remarked. “Spencer Martin is just as secretive. What’s known about them before the Merritt administration wouldn’t fill a thimble. My opinion—they cultivate that mysterious aura.”

“What for?”

“Effect, I imagine.”

“What did Bondurant do before the rescue mission?”

“Planned it, I guess. The three of them—Martin, Bondurant, and Merritt—had Marine recon training. Of the three, the President is the most polished, the natural politician. Spencer Martin is a devious sneak. He fits his role in the administration to a tee. And Bondurant… He’s the most complex of the trio. Want to know something? The guy always scared the shit out of me. Truth be known, I think he scared the shit out of the President, too.”

“I thought Merritt fired him because he had become a little too attached to Vanessa.”

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