First Daughter - Eric van Lustbader [84]
Edward Carson held her tight, kissed the top of her head. His own eyes welled with tears of despair and frustration. "That was Jack. No news yet, but he's making progress."
Lyn made a little sound—half gasp, half moan—at the back of her throat.
"Alli's a strong girl, she'll be all right." He stroked her back, soothing them both. "Jack will find her."
"I know he will."
They stood like that for a long time, above their own Washington, the world at their feet, the taste of ashes in their mouths. And yet their hearts beat strongly together, and where hearts were strong, they knew, there was fight yet left. There was hope. Hope and faith.
A sharp rap on the door to the sitting room caused them both to start.
"It's okay." Edward Carson kissed her lightly on the lips. "Rest a little now before dinner."
She nodded, watched him cross the bedroom, close the connecting door behind him. Rest, she thought. How does one rest with a heart full of dread?
THE PRESIDENT-ELECT pulled the door open, stood aside so Dennis Paull could enter, then shut and locked it behind him.
"Nina delivered your message," Carson said.
"The Secret Service agents outside?"
"Absolutely secure. You can take that to the bank." He walked over to a sideboard. "Drink?"
"Nothing better." Paull sat on a sofa that faced the astonishing view. "What I like most about flying is that you're so high up, there's nothing but sky. No woes, no uncertainty, no fears."
He accepted the single-malt with a nod of thanks. Carson had no need of asking what Paull drank. The two men had known each other for many years, long before the current president had been elected to his first term. Two years into that first term, when Paull had been faced with carrying out yet another semi-legal directive he found personally abhorrent, he was faced with a professional dilemma. He might have tendered his resignation, but instead he'd gone to see Edward Carson. In hindsight, of course, Paull understood that he'd already made his choice, which was far more difficult and dangerous than simply throwing in the towel. He'd decided to stay on, to fight for the America he believed in in every way he could. His plan began with the alliance he and Edward Carson formed.
This was surprisingly easy. The two men held the same vision for America, which included returning the country to a healthy separation of church and state. Though fiscal conservatives, they were moderates in virtually every other area. They both disliked partisan politics and despised political hacks. They wanted to get on with things without being encumbered with pork barrel politics. They wanted to mend fences overseas, to try to undo the image of America as bully and warmonger. They wanted their country to be part of the world, separated from it only by oceans. At heart, each in his own way, had come to the same inescapable conclusion: America was at a critical crossroads. The country had to be healed. To do that, it had to be resurrected from the little death of the current administration's policies. Otherwise, intimidation, divisiveness, and fear would be the legacy of the last eight years.
Neither of them was a starry-eyed idealist; in fact, over the years, they'd each brokered difficult deals, made compromises, some of them painful, in order to achieve their goals. But both did believe that the country was on the wrong path and needed to be set right. So they had agreed. Whenever he could, Paull would secretly work against the Administration's weakening of democratic freedoms, and in return, Edward Carson would name him Secretary of Defense.
The two men sat in what under other circumstances would have been a comfortable silence. But between them now was the specter of Alli's abduction and possible death.
"How are you two holding up?" Paull had noticed the president-elect's reddened eyes the moment he walked through