“There’s someone I want to see first.”
“Ewa Pawlik, no doubt.”
“I could have sworn she came to my room when I was still delirious.”
“Let her go. She served her purpose.”
“To keep me involved.”
“Would you have flown that mission if you had not…” Fedor let his voice trail off.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s because you have a Polish heart,” Fedor said. He extended his hand in friendship.
Patrick Flannery Shaw came through the southwest gate of the White House. An escort hurried him up West Executive Avenue and into the West Basement. The president sat in the small break room next to the mess, stirring a bowl of popcorn and talking to the on-duty chef. “Patrick,” she said, “would you like something to eat?” He shook his head and the chef left, closing the door behind them.
“Just like old times in Sacramento,” Shaw said. He sat down and poured himself a healthy shot of Jack Daniel’s. He had been expecting this conversation, but not quite under these circumstances.
“Stephan Serick wants to resign,” Maddy said.
Shaw sipped the whiskey. “I hadn’t heard.” A mental picture of the crusty secretary of state stomping down the hall with his cane played in the back of his mind. “He got his feelings hurt over the way you handled the Germans. Tell him you need him, give him a few ego strokes, and he’ll roll over like a puppy dog.”
She stirred the popcorn with a forefinger before taking a nibble. “How much harder should I push Leland over Maura’s photo? I think he wants to declare a cease-fire.”
“It kept him preoccupied. Not a single word from the jackass about Poland.”
“Poland was a sideshow,” Maddy said.
“But it could have blown up in your face,” Shaw replied. The president turned inward, thinking. When she looked at him, Shaw’s stomach lurched. He had never seen that look before. “Mizz President, is this a come-to-Jesus meeting?”
She didn’t answer, which only made it worse. “Patrick, you gave that photo of Maura to Leland’s staff.”
Shaw gulped. His worst nightmare had just come true. “I only dangled the bait. They were so eager, they took it hook, line, and sinker. I was lucky to get my hand back.”
“Why?”
“So you’d have a damn big club to beat Leland with.”
“Have I ever played the game that way?”
Shaw was genuinely apologetic. “No, Ma’am, you haven’t.” He had to explain himself, justify his actions. “I was certain Maura could handle it, might even enjoy it. I never figured her for a heart attack. She’s so strong.”
“Indeed she is.” Silence. Then, “Why Matt? Why did you drive him away?”
Shaw heard the tone in her voice and he sighed loudly. This was his swan song, probably the last time he would ever speak to her. He lowered his head, waiting for the guillotine blade. “Look at his track record.” He snorted. “Women chase him down the street tearing their clothes off. My gawd! He’s got more temptation coming his way than half the state of Texas.”
She gave him a sad look. Shaw would never understand that passion was a law unto itself, without rhyme or reason. It was simply there, or it wasn’t, and no person could control it. “He is exciting,” she allowed.
“Mizz President, beneath that crooked grin and straight teeth is a certified aerial assassin. He may look civilized, but he’s got a switch somewhere inside him that turns him into pure aggression. And based on what happened with Brian, his son is a chip off the old block. It’s gotta be in the genes.” He took a deep breath. “He’s all wrong for you.”
“Why?”
“Because people love scandal and Leland was going to use him as a club. He was gonna cost you the election.”
“True.”
Shaw’s mouth fell open in awe. She had used him! She had held him close enough to do the dirty work and still kept him at arm’s length. “If I’d have screwed up, you’d have nailed me to the wall.”
“In a heartbeat,” she replied, mimicking his tone.
“But you’ll never forgive me for chasing him away, will you?”
She reached across the table and touched his hand. “I’ll find my way back to him.” She smiled. “At the right time. But in the future, he’s off-limits to you.” They sat there, still old friends. “Patrick, when do I announce for reelection?”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing is a lonely endeavor and I am indebted to four good friends, Karen Kijewski, John Lescroart, and Steve Martini, who have shared the angst and agony over so many books. But I owe a special thanks to William P. Wood. Bill has the wonderful ability to sift through rubble and find gold. Without his sage advice, I would have lost my way countless times.
New Mexico Military Institute may be one of the best kept secrets in the United States. To say that I was impressed would be an understatement and I only hope that I did the institute and the corps justice. I am indebted to the superintendent, Lt. Gen. Robert Beckel; the dean, Col. William E. Gibbs; the commandant, Lt. Col. Seth Orell; their staffs, and most important, the corps of cadets. Special thanks to SFC Amanda Greer, and the three Rats who really made NMMI come alive: Jennifer Petty, Truong Doan, and Adam Siler. Mr. Jimmy Britton, the executive secretary of the NMMI Alumni Association, was kind enough to spend a day helping me search for story locations around Roswell. And in the process, he showed me the beauty of the people and the land.
I have never flown in an F-16, but Lt. Col. Mike Harrington, USAF, made the Viper come alive. It is a wonderful jet and Mike taught me why it is such a feared weapons system. Lt. Col. Paul Woodford, USAF, (Ret), and SDS International gave me an invaluable refresher course in Cockpit Resource Management and again demonstrated the importance of the human element in aerial combat.
Many others helped immensely. Dr. George Kaczynski and Dr. Anna Danuta Kaczynski provided an introduction to the Polish people and their culture. In Poland, Zbigniew Foniok and Malgorzata Foniok, my publishers at Amber, spent many gracious hours discussing the current situation in their country. Ewa Malacina was a perfect hostess, and Krzysztof Bednarek a translator par excellence.
Two helicopter pilots, Ken Fritz and Dudley Hale, kept me honest and on track when I tried to write about helicopters. Lt. Col. Rob Stone, USAF, (Ret), introduced me to the world of Foreign Military Sales and struck many sparks.
To all, many thanks.
About the Author
A former weapons system officer, RICHARD HERMAN was a member of the United States Air Force for twenty-one years, until he retired in 1983 with the rank of Major. He is the author of eight previous novels — including The Warbirds, Force of Eagles, Firebreak, Call to Duty, Power Curve, and Against All Enemies, all published by Avon Books. Mr. Herman currently lives and works in Gold River, a suburb of Sacramento, California.