A gentle smile played across the president’s face as she sat down. She motioned to a spot on the couch beside her rocking chair. “Did I see a blush there?”
He forced a little smile but only managed to look guilty.
She reached out and touched his arm. “Still the same.” Her words carried a soft warmth. “My unbending general.” It was the old play on his name, the unbending Bender, and, for a moment, they were friends. But then it was all back in place. She was the commander in chief and he was her subordinate. She felt his defenses stiffen as the walls rose into place. “Robert, are you abreast of the situation in Poland?” she asked, turning to business.
“Only vaguely. Economy doing well, standard of living on the rise since becoming a member of the EU, some problems with joining NATO.”
“The reason I ask is because Lloyd Rudenkowski is resigning as ambassador. I want to appoint you in his place.” Bender looked at her in shock. She knew he wanted to be appointed chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff when the current chairman retired next year. But she needed him now. “Because of the situation in Poland, I want a competent person heading the mission to Warsaw. I was going to offer Rudenkowski a cabinet position to induce him to resign. But when Treasury did an expanded background investigation, he came up dirty. Very dirty.”
Bender nodded, not offended in the least by her political maneuvering. “Isn’t Rudenkowski one of Senator Leland’s boys?” Senator John Leland was the chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and ruled like a feudal warlord. But there was more. Leland had led the attempt to force Turner to resign during the Okinawan blockade. His hatred of Turner and her administration was deep, personal, and irrational.
Serick grumped. “Leland is North Carolina’s permanent revenge on the United States for losing the Civil War.”
Turner laughed. It started easy and low and ended like a crystal bell. Her face came alive and her eyes danced with humor. “Stephan has testified before the good senator too many times.”
“Leland sponsored Rudenkowski and pushed his nomination through the Senate,” Vice President Kennett explained.
“Leland’s push was more like a ramrod,” Serick added.
“Getting my name past Leland’s committee will be a problem,” Bender said, hoping his shot for the chairman of the Joint Chiefs was still alive. “He’ll want to even some scores. Especially after Okinawa.” Bender was reminding them of a political reality. His advice and support of Turner had been critical in fending off Leland’s attack on her presidency during the blockade.
“I don’t think so,” Kennett said. “Leland will be more than glad to forward your nomination to the Senate with a favorable recommendation after I explain things to him.” He handed Bender a folder summarizing the recent investigation into Rudenkowski’s background.
Inside the folder was a photograph of Rudenkowski being presented the Navy Cross. The accompanying citation and newspaper article described how Lieutenant (jg) Rudenkowski had been in command of a riverine patrol boat in Vietnam. During a two-boat river sweep, he had gone to the aid of the lead patrol boat that was caught in an ambush by the Vietcong. He had attempted to rescue the first boat, but each time was driven off by heavy machine-gun fire from the shore. Only after the lead boat had exploded and all hands lost, and sustaining heavy casualties on his own boat, did Rudenkowski withdraw. Only he and a badly wounded bosun’s mate survived.
A second photograph in the folder showed a much older Rudenkowski, wearing his Navy Cross, locked arm-in-arm with Senator Leland at an election rally. Underneath that was a financial statement revealing Rudenkowski had contributed more than a million dollars to an election-campaign fund controlled by Leland and his cronies. The final document was a sworn statement by the bosun’s mate on the riverine patrol boat that Rudenkowski had never tried to rescue the first boat and had immediately retreated, leaving the crew to its fate. Two miles downstream, Rudenkowski had taken a wrong turn and stumbled into another ambush. Thinking the bosun’s mate and the rest of the crew were dead, Rudenkowski had returned to base. Because of his wounds, it was six weeks before the bosun’s mate remembered all that had happened. Before he could report the truth, Rudenkowski had reached out and bribed him to confirm his version of the ambush. At first, the bosun’s mate had been rewarded with money and women. The drugs and threats came later.
“Why did the mate finally come clean after all these years?” Bender asked.
“He’s dying of leukemia and wants to go with a clean slate,” Kennett replied. “Leland’s standing too close to Rudenkowski so he’ll go for a quid pro quo: our silence about Rudenkowski for his support on your nomination.”
The director of central intelligence listened to the discussion and said nothing. He longed for the good old days when the option of wet operations easily solved a problem like Rudenkowski. But times had changed.
Bender felt an empty void; he wanted to be the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. But now, the ambassadorship to Poland was all he was going to get. Then another thought came to him. His wife, Nancy, would love it. “I would like to talk it over with my wife and think about it,” he said.
“Certainly,” Turner said. “I’d like to forward a nomination to the Senate next week. When can we expect your answer?”
“You’ll have it tomorrow morning.”
“What’s the matter?” Maura asked. They were sitting in the family room off Maddy’s bedroom after dinner. As usual, Sarah did her homework on the floor while wearing headphones, listening to music.
“I offered Robert Bender the Warsaw embassy today.”
“He’ll make an excellent ambassador. Besides, I like him. And his wife. She’s lovely.” Maura picked up her knitting and her clicking needles beat a fast rhythm. “Why is that bothering you?”
Maddy sighed. Her mother could be as stubborn as Sarah once she got her teeth into a subject. “It’s how we’re doing it. There are times I hate politics. We should be exposing a man for what he is. Instead, he’s going to get away scot-free so I can send a decent ambassador to Poland.”
For all her seeming naïveté, Maura was an astute observer of the political scene. She made the connection. “I never did like Rudenkowski. Too smooth and oily.” The needles clicked. “Senator Leland is a problem, isn’t he?”
Maddy nodded. “He’s a real bastard.”
Sarah pulled off her headset. “Who’s a bastard?”
“Young ladies don’t use profanity, Little Miss Snoopy,” Maura said.
Maddy frowned. “You were eavesdropping, weren’t you?”
“I was an innocent bystander,” Sarah argued, making her case. She gathered up her books. “I’ll study in my room.” She knew when to make a tactical retreat.
“No phone calls until you’re finished,” Maddy called.
“Yes, Mother.”
The two women waited until the door was closed. “I’ll never understand what motivates men like Leland,” Maura said.
“Patrick does,” Maddy replied. There were times she missed his shrewd advice and hardball approach to politics.
Maura dropped her knitting into her lap. “That’s because he’s one of them. Maddy, I’ve watched these people and listened to them. Oh, I know there are some good men and women here who deeply care about our country. But far too many came to Washington for all the wrong reasons. They’re not here to help people, only themselves. And they don’t care who they hurt in the process. You should change the Constitution and make every elected politician swear an oath that ‘First, I will do no harm.’”