“So all’s right with the world.”
“Until tomorrow,” a general remarked, and laughter and groans followed them from the room. They followed the vice president into the Oval Office, also small, so much less than Mike had always imagined it.
Callan waved them to one of the sofas, sat opposite them. “Tony sends you his best, Nicholas, Mike, and his thanks, between curses, since he naturally feels he failed me.”
Nicholas said, “I’d be royally pissed off as well, even though I’d eventually come to accept that it wasn’t my fault that madman Damari stole my face. Tony’s a good man. He’ll be back to himself soon enough.”
Mike asked, “We found out too late that Damari had the plans to Camp David. Has there been any word on how he managed to get in? How he managed to break into the Secret Service’s communications?”
“The prevailing theory is he crossed the fence during the power outage, then hid in one of the outlying cabins. They found evidence of him there. Since he could hear everything happening, he was able to dodge the Secret Service and the dogs. This was a very sophisticated attack, lots of planning, lots of moving parts. He did it with the help of Matthew Spenser, of course.”
Mike said, “Isn’t it ironic that, in the end, Matthew Spenser got what he wanted—we’re at war with his enemies. His goals are now our goals.”
“My hope is our war will be brief. Between the air strikes and the cyber-attacks, we’re neutralizing them for a long time to come. Perhaps in the future, wiser heads will prevail and peace talks could become a reality.” She rose and they did as well.
“Now, I have to leave you in Quinn’s very capable hands. We’ve arranged for transport back to New York for you.”
She grew serious. “I hate to say good-bye, but I have a few things on my schedule today. I want you to know you both have an open line to this administration. If there’s ever anything you need, you pick up the phone and call.”
She took both of their hands, held them tightly for a moment, then said again, “Thank you.”
Nicholas said quietly, “Ma’am, it’s been an honor.”
Quinn Costello waited for them in the antechamber, a grin on her face.
With a last nod, Callan headed back across the hall to the cabinet room, and Quinn gestured for them to follow. She led them out to the South Lawn, where the Sea King was waiting.
“Seeing you off in style,” Quinn said, handing them both small blue tote bags with the White House logo on them. “A few things to remember us by. Be well.”
Mike and Nicholas took the steps into the helicopter, settled into the seats. “Under two hours to home,” the pilot said over their headsets. “Time to have a little snooze. Here we go.”
Home.
Home to New York. Nicholas didn’t think he’d ever heard anything better.
EPILOGUE
The End Game
New York
Nicholas slept twelve hours on Friday night, ate pizza Nigel made for him, and made his plans.
Mike slept longer, had a hankering for Thai food, and ate it three straight meals.
Saturday night, just before ten o’clock, Mike got out of the shower, pulled on a sleep shirt, and turned on the television to watch something mindless. Her parents’ excitement had worn her out.
And she waited.
The doorbell rang.
Finally.
She padded barefoot to the door. “Who is it?”
“Delivery.”
“What are you delivering?”