D.C. Dead (Stone Barrington 22)

“I know, but I didn’t take it all in that time.”

Dino pulled to a stop under the portico, and a man on each side of the car opened the doors. One of them drove the car away, and the other opened the door to the building. They presented their IDs at a reception desk, and the young man who had opened the door led them down a hallway until they came to an elevator. When they got in, he pressed an unmarked button and stepped out of the car. “You’ll be met,” he said.

The elevator rose; Stone couldn’t be sure how far. He didn’t know the car had stopped until the doors opened. They stepped into a broad hallway, and a man in a dark suit with a small badge of some sort on his lapel waved them to a sofa against the wall. “Please be seated. Someone will come for you shortly.”

They sat. A little way down the hall another Secret Service agent stood at a loose parade rest before a large door.

They had been on the sofa for perhaps five minutes when the elevator door opened, a

nd the first lady of the United States stepped out, followed closely by Holly Barker. The first lady was also the director of Central Intelligence, Katharine Rule Lee, and it had taken an act of Congress to overlook the inconvenience that nepotism had been involved in her appointment.

“Mr. Barrington, Lieutenant Bacchetti,” the director said, walking over and extending her hand. “It’s good to see you both again.”

They had already leapt to their feet to renew their acquaintance, previously made at the White House dinner.

Mrs. Lee led the way down the hall to the guarded door, which was opened for her by the Secret Service agent. “Come in,” she said, sweeping into a large, handsomely furnished living room. “The president is on his way back from the West Coast and will be here in time for dinner. In the meantime, what would you like to drink?”

“Mr. Barrington will have a Knob Creek on the rocks,” Holly said to a man in a white jacket, “and Lieutenant Bacchetti will have a Johnnie Walker Black the same way.”

“I see you’ve been drinking wit

h them,” the first lady observed.

4

STONE SIPPED HIS DRINK SLOWLY AND HAD A LOOK AROUND. IT was the living room of an upper-class American family, complete with good paintings and family photographs in silver frames on the grand piano. He wondered when somebody would get around to why he and Dino were there.

“I understand you’re now a partner at Woodman and Weld,” the first lady said.

“For about a year,” Stone replied. “For a long time previously I was of counsel to the firm, and I worked from my home office. I still do.”

“What sort of clients do you work for?” she asked.

“My largest client is Strategic Services,” he said.

“I know them, of course.”

“I also serve on their board.”

“Mike Newman is a good man,” she said. “Almost as good as his predecessor.”

Stone was about to agree when the door opened, and the president of the United States breezed in, followed by a man carrying his luggage. “Good evening, all,” he said.

Everyone but his wife leapt to their feet and made the appropriate greetings.

“You’re early,” his wife said.

“Not inconveniently so, I hope. Will you all excuse me while I get out of this suit?” Without waiting for a reply, he walked into another room and closed the door behind him.

Mrs. Lee looked at her watch. “They must have had a hell of a tailwind,” she said.

“West to east will do that for you,” Stone observed. “It’s tougher going the other way.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re a pilot, and I understand you’ve moved up to a jet. We will want to hear about that.”

“Of course,” Stone replied.

“We may as well wait until he’s back before I brief you.”