Madam President (29 page)

Mark saluted her and removed the cap from his pen.

“Whenever you’re ready, Madam President,” Monty prompted.

Charlotte started reading the words displayed on the panels in front of her, but inside her, rage was building. She kept replaying the Miami mayor’s words over and over:
I’ve been watching them pull bodies out of the water.
Her thoughts turned to revenge.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Melanie

M
elanie didn’t want to involve Brian in her trap, but she didn’t have many options. She let his phone ring five times. When it went to voice mail, she hung up and called her assistant, Annie.

“Can you get Brian on the line, please? And tell him that nothing is wrong; I have a work question.”

Annie had him on the line in less than a minute.

“Was that you calling?” he asked.

“Yes, were you doing a live shot?”

“Yeah, and they’re coming back to me in two minutes. What’s up?”

“I’ll be quick. Someone leaked to CBS’s Pentagon unit that Charlotte stormed out of the PEOC this morning and violated security protocols.”

“Did she?”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“I need to figure out who’s leaking.”

“Jesus, Melanie, is this seriously the best use of your time right now?”

Melanie was incredulous. “I’d say that making sure the president can make decisions about our national security without worrying that
one of your colleagues in the press is going to broadcast her decisions to the enemy is of utmost importance, wouldn’t you?” She sounded shriller than she’d intended.

“Mel, you don’t have to spin me or convince me. I don’t give a damn about the president or your leaker. I am on your side, no matter how wild your caper. I am simply pointing out that it sounds a bit detached from reality right now to be launching a leak investigation from thirty thousand feet while five cities burn.”

Melanie silently seethed.

“Your heavy breathing suggests that I’ve pissed you off, but I will say one last thing, and then I will follow you down Alice’s rabbit hole in search of your leaker, real or imagined. Is it possible that being trapped on that plane all day has you acting a little desperate to find ways to remain critical to the president?”

Melanie was certain that this was
not
the case. She wasn’t imagining her restored connection with Charlotte. Why would Brian doubt the first positive development in her relationship with the president in nearly a year? Why would he make her doubt herself? Melanie fought back tears of frustration. Pregnancy made it much more difficult to swallow her emotions. She gathered herself and cleared her throat. “The leader of the free world doesn’t seem to think that I’m grasping at straws to remain relevant.”

“You weren’t even speaking to her twelve hours ago.”

“I’m going to hang up before I say something I’ll regret.”

“Mel, come on. I’m sorry. It just sounded like you’d swung from one extreme to the other where Charlotte was concerned. This morning, you were talking about quitting.”

“I know.”

“And I didn’t mean to upset you. Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Nothing. I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m not going to beg you, but if you need me to do something, I will do it.”

“Let’s just talk about something else,” Melanie urged.

“What’s the White House plan for when the news breaks about Warren?”

“I don’t know.”

“Everyone has quietly confirmed it over the last hour, and it isn’t going to hold for much longer.”

“Please don’t report it yet,” she asked.

“It’s going to get out soon.”

“I still can’t believe it.”

“Listen, not to add any pressure, but between Warren and the finger-pointing going on from Capitol Hill, there will be very high expectations tonight for the president.”

“Who is pointing fingers?”

“Republicans. It’s pretty muted, but they’re still pissed about her prochoice speech, and right-wing radio and Fox News will be merciless on her. They’ll say that she lost her nerve when it came time to stand up to Congress on her drone policy and surveillance measures. It won’t take two days for members to conclude that it came down to a staring contest between us and them, and they won. We blinked.”

“That’s not fair. The world blinked.”

“The world didn’t get bombed to shit today,” Brian remarked.

“Not yet, at least.”

“You sound like the old Charlotte protector you were when I first met you.”

“Old habits die hard.”

“I’ve got to go, Mel. I’ll call you back.”

As soon as she hung up, her aide pointed at the phone. “Madam Secretary, I tracked down Dale Smith for you. She’s been holding for five minutes already.”

“Dale?”

“Something strange is going on around here,” Dale reported.

“What do you mean?”

“Lucy and Richard are in with the vice president. I think Craig is in there, too.”

“Where are they?”

“In the vice president’s West Wing office.”

“What makes you think Craig is in there? Did you see him in there?”

“No, but his assistant said he was with the veep, and he had invited
Lucy and Richard to his office for some off-the-record time earlier today, so I have this sick feeling that it’s been a rolling background briefing with CBS ever since I went off the grid.”

“Do you think the vice president has been spending time with them, too?”

“She’s in with them right now.”

“Maybe she thought that was what you would want since you didn’t pull the plug on the ‘Day in the Life.’ ”

“It’s not what I want. I think Craig is leaking a little too much color to Lucy and Richard.”

“What sort of things?”

“They knew about the CNN crew earlier today, and they asked if the president was in the Oval Office earlier while she was still supposed to be in the PEOC.”

“What time did they ask you about the president being in the Oval?”

“I don’t remember.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot today, but can you try to piece together when Lucy and Richard asked you about the president being in the Oval when she should have been in the PEOC?”

“It was when I was out on the North Lawn escorting our press back into the complex. I’ll get with Marguerite and figure out exactly when we were out there.”

“Have you had any press calls from anyone else about information that shouldn’t be out there?”

“Other than those two from Lucy and Richard, no.”

“Nothing?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“We just got one.”

“What was it?”

“The CBS Pentagon producer called our press office and asked about the president storming out of the PEOC while the attacks were still under way.”

“You think Lucy and Richard passed the information to their Pentagon reporters so she could get another source?”

“That’s one theory.”

“The attacks weren’t technically under way anymore.”

“The president didn’t know that at the time.”

“What did you guys say to CBS?”

“We haven’t said anything yet.”

“We can’t lie.”

“Of course not.”

“What do we do?”

“We can’t lie, but we can do things that are in the interest of national security to make sure that the president is surrounded by people she can trust.”

“Right.”

“Do you understand?”

Dale knew exactly what she was being asked to do. Melanie was finally collecting her payback for her generosity to her the year before. She was asking her to bury her best friend and closest ally in the White House if he was indeed the one who leaked the information about the president leaving the PEOC to CBS.

“I understand. We give someone bad information and see where it ends up?”

“We give our suspects some slightly off-base information and see what happens with it. It needs to be very sensitive, and it needs to be delivered by people who are normally their trusted colleagues.”

“You keep referring to suspects, but you only have one suspect, right?”

“At the moment, yes.”

Dale took a deep breath and pressed her fingers into the bones around her eye sockets. She had a searing headache. She prayed that Craig wasn’t the source of the leak. She would love to prove Melanie wrong about him. “Tell me what you want me to do, Melanie.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

Dale

C
raig wants to see you in his office.”

“Tell him I’m on my way,” Dale replied to her assistant.

Dale knew that she was playing with fire, but she also knew that earlier in the day, Melanie and the president had carried out the most elaborate act of charity that anyone would likely ever do on her behalf. They’d staged a presidential news conference so that Peter could tell Dale about Warren’s death in private. In return, she’d been asked to help determine the extent of Craig’s involvement in leaking information to the press. If he was guilty of sharing information that shouldn’t be made public, then he deserved whatever happened to him. But if he wasn’t, then she was most certainly ending her own career.

Dale was grateful that Melanie hadn’t offered her condolences about Warren. In an odd way, it made Dale feel closer to him to be collaborating with Melanie. He would understand that protecting Charlotte from a traitorous advisor was the priority, and he would be pleased that Melanie trusted Dale enough to enlist her support. It eased some of Dale’s anxiety about the act of disloyalty to Craig that she was about to carry out.

“He’s waiting for you,” Ben said as soon as Dale entered his office suite.

“Thanks.”

Craig greeted Dale with an embrace. “Are you holding up?”

“I’m on autopilot.”

“The president is worried about you. I know she’s grateful that you came back to work after you found out.”

“It’s difficult to feel sorry for myself with all of this.” Dale gestured toward the wall of TVs in Craig’s office. When she looked back at him, he was transfixed by something on one of them.

“Jesus Christ, the ship is almost completely underwater now.”

Dale wasn’t even sure what she was looking at until she heard the reporter practically scream into her microphone that the entire cruise ship was now submerged. The network cut away from her hysteria and went to a grim-faced search-and-rescue “expert,” who said that it was very unlikely that anyone else would be rescued from the Miami site. Dale listened for a couple of minutes and then walked to the window in Craig’s office.

“I’m sorry.” Craig muted the TV.

“Don’t be. We need to watch the news. I’m just trying to keep it together.”

“Dale, I want to make something clear. We’ll get through the rest of today, and then I want you to take some time off, understood?”

Dale nodded.

She was trying her hardest to sound normal. If Melanie was wrong about Craig being the leaker, this stunt would destroy her closest friendship in Washington. She reminded herself that the president had approved their effort and went back to the script that Melanie had suggested.

“I came to see you because the press is starting to ask for excerpts from the speech. Do you have any that stand out for you that I could release?”

“I didn’t pick up my copy yet. I was about to go get it from Samantha,” Craig said.

“I have it.”

He looked surprised. “That’s good, Dale. You should have it. I’m sure that Ben just forgot to pick mine up. Ben?” Craig yelled at his assistant.

“Yes, sir?”

“Can you call Sam and ask her for a copy of the president’s speech?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sam gave me your copy when I picked up mine,” Dale said carefully. She pulled out a brown envelope with a staffing sheet stapled to it. It was the typical way sensitive speeches were shared with senior staff. Only hard copies were circulated, and edits were made by hand and input by the speechwriters.

Craig looked relieved to see it. “Ben, forget it!” he yelled.

Craig opened the envelope and pulled the sheets of paper out.

“Have you read it? How is it?” he asked.

“It’s very Melanie,” Dale replied.

Craig rolled his eyes. “I’d better read this right away and send back my comments. Let me call you after I get through it, and we can select a couple of excerpts and go through the plan for morning shows and the rest of the interviews for CBS.”

“Sounds good. Everything going smoothly with Richard and Lucy?”

Craig raised an eyebrow. “I think so. Why?”

“I was planning on babysitting them all afternoon, and I wasn’t able to, so I just wanted to make sure they hadn’t caused any incidents.”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Not yet, anyway, right?” Dale tried to make a joke.

“Dale, I’m serious. If you think of anything that I can do for you, please let me know.”

“I will.”

Dale walked out of his office and closed the door behind her.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Charlotte

O
n days when the CIA director didn’t travel to the White House to brief Charlotte personally and on all of the days when she was on the road, she received her daily intelligence briefing from a woman named Sydney Travers. Charlotte and Sydney had spent countless hours together discussing the threats facing the United States from the various Al Qaeda networks and their more lethal affiliates in Iraq and Syria, ISIS and ISIL. Not once had Sydney suggested that an attack on the U.S. was imminent. But not once had Sydney failed to mention the groups’ ongoing desire and intent to strike America again, in the same way and with similar effect as it had done on September 11, 2001. Even her shortest briefings and those delivered by classified top-secret white papers included Sydney’s reminder that Al Qaeda and the Islamic State remained committed to planning and carrying out another attack on the homeland. Now Sydney was sitting across from the president, and they were discussing the identities of the bodies found in Chicago and Los Angeles.

Sydney handed the president the two-pager she’d quickly compiled on the Chicago bomber. Charlotte read it carefully.

“Madam President,” Sydney interrupted.