Debt of Honor - Tom Clancy [462]
"What?'"
"Tell the story, Al, we have lots of nine," Durling urged. His wife, Anne, leaned in to hear this one, too. Trent ended up speaking for twenty minutes, telling more than one old tale in the process despite the look on Jack's face.
"That's the sort of husband you have, Dr. Ryan," the President said when the stories were ended.
Jack looked over at Trent now, a rather intense stare. What was at the end of this?
"Jack, your country needs you for one last thing, and then we'll let you go," the Congressman said.
"What's that?" Please, not an ambassadorship, he thought, the usual kiss-off for a senior official.
Durling set his glass down. "Jack, my main job for the next nine months is to get reelected. It might be a tough campaign, and it's going to absorb a lot of my time under the best of circumstances. I need you on the team."
"Sir, I already am—"
"I want you to be my Vice President," Durling said calmly. The room got very quiet then. "The post is vacant as of today, as you know. I'm not sure yet who I want for my second term, and I am not suggesting that you fill the post for more than—what? Not even eleven months. Like Rockefeller did for Gerry Ford. I want somebody whom the public respects, somebody who can run the shop for me when I'm away. I need somebody heavy in foreign affairs. I need somebody who can help me put my foreign-policy team together. And," he added, "I know you want out. You've done enough. And so, after this, you can't be called back for a permanent post."
"Wait a minute. I'm not even in your party," Jack managed to say.
"As the Constitution was originally drafted, the Vice President was supposed to be the loser in the general election. James Madison and the others assumed that patriotism would triumph over partisanship. Well, they were wrong," Durling allowed. "But in this case—Jack, I know you. I will not use you in a political sense. No speeches and baby-kissing."
"Never pick up a baby to kiss it," Trent said. "They always puke on you, and somebody always gets a picture. Always kiss the baby in the mom's arms." The good political advice was sufficient to lighten the atmosphere a little.
"Your job will be to get the White House organized, to manage national-security affairs, really to help me strengthen my foreign-policy team. And then I'll let you go and nobody will ever call you back. You'll be a free man, Jack," Durling promised. "Once and for all."
"My God," Cathy said.
"It's what you wanted, too, isn't it?"
Caroline nodded. "Yes, it is. But—but, I don't know anything about politics. I—"
"Lucky you," Anne Durling observed. "You won't have to get stuck with it."
"I have my work and—"
"And you'll still do it. A nice house comes along with the job," the President went on. "And it's temporary." He turned his head. "Well, Jack?"
"What makes you think that I can be confirmed—"
"Leave that to us," Trent said in a way that announced quite clearly that it had already been settled.
"You won't ask me to—"
"My word on it," the President promised. "Your obligation ends next January."
"What about—I mean, that makes me President of the Senate, and in the event of a close vote—"
"I suppose I ought to say that I'll tell you how I want you to vote, and I will, and I hope you'll listen, but I know you'll vote your conscience. I can live with that. As a matter of fact, if you were any other way, I wouldn't be making this offer."
"Besides, nothing on the schedule will be that close," Trent assured him. They'd talked that one over, too, the night before.
"I think we should pay more attention to the military," Jack said.
"If you make your recommendations, I'll incorporate them in the budget. You've taught me a lesson on that, and I may need you to help me hammer it through Congress. Maybe that will be your valedictory."
"They'll listen to you. Jack," Trent assured him.
Jesus, Ryan thought, wishing that he'd gone easier on the wine. Predictably