Choppy Water

55

Holly sat at the common table at her headquarters and looked at her watch. She stood up and shouted to the room, “Everybody, be quiet and listen!”

The place fell silent.

“I’ve noticed of late how haggard you are all looking, and I can see that I’ve been working you too hard.”

There were murmured denials.

“Don’t lie to me,” Holly said, “you’re all exhausted. I want you all, every man and woman of you, to get up from your seats, take your coats, if you have them, and your personal effects, then go home.”

Nobody moved. They just looked at her, stunned.

“Your specific orders are to go to wherever you sleep, order in a pizza and a cheap bottle of wine, eat and drink yourself into a stupor, then go to bed and sleep for twelve hours. That is all. Get out of here!”

They moved fast, before she could change her mind.

When Holly was alone, she went into her office, found a bottle of bourbon in a bottom drawer, grabbed some paper cups, went back to the common table, and sat down.

A lone woman appeared at the other end of the room and stood there, silently.

“Holy shit,” Holly said to herself, unbelievingly. Finally, she took a deep breath and held the bourbon bottle aloft. “Come and have a drink,” she said. She watched the woman approach. She looked eerily familiar. So did the suit she was wearing.

“Have a seat,” Holly said.

The woman sat down.

“Who are you?” Holly asked.

“My name is Holly Barker,” the woman replied. “I’m the president-elect of the United States.”

“Well,” Holly said, pouring them both a drink. “You’ve certainly convinced me.”

They both raised their cups and drank.

“Where on earth did they find you?” Holly asked.

“I’m an agent at the DEA,” the woman replied. “I’ve worked some cases with the Bureau, and somebody there remembered me. They got a hairdresser and a makeup artist in and burgled your house for this suit and a couple of others, then they dyed my dirty-blond hair auburn. I think I’ll keep it this way.”

“What was your name before you were me?” Holly asked.

“Geraldine Mason. Gerry, to you and everybody else.”

“Did they tell you what they expect you to do?”

“I gather I’m to get myself shot, but not in the head. I’m wearing a vest under the suit.”

“My nose is bigger than yours,” Holly said. “Do you think you can pass?”

“People see me get out of the right car, and they’ll believe what they expect to see.”

Tom Blake, Bill Wright, Claire Dunn, Sam Meriwether, and Stone Barrington filed into the room and sat down at the table.

“Good job,” Holly said. “She fooled me.” She shoved the bourbon and cups down the table, and they all partook.

Tom Blake spoke up. “Here’s how it’s going to go down,” he said. He spoke for five minutes or so, then stopped. “Well?”

“I think Holly, here, can pull it off,” Holly said. “I hope the rest of you can, for her sake.” She took a tug on the bourbon. “I’ve already forgotten everything you’ve told me.”

“That’s as it should be,” Claire said. “We’ve had a chat with two of your scheduling staff. They’ll be returning to work tomorrow, and they’ll get a schedule that includes a thirty-minute stop at a theater at Hunter College, over on Lexington Avenue. It will be the only venue on your schedule that might work for them.”

“Why do you think that?”

“It has steeply raked seats with a projection booth at the top. There’s a fire door that exits to the street behind the college, where a parked van won’t be noticed.”

“Also,” Bill said, “we have it on good authority that they’re getting itchy for action, so they’ll be more likely to bite.”

“Did the cancellation of my two events this week have anything to do with them?”

“Yes. We were not only short of personnel, we were short on time to prepare. And we didn’t have Gerry ready.”

“Do you have time to prepare for this one?”

“We have already done so. We’ll be ready for them at the scheduled time: eleven AM, the day after tomorrow.”

“Where will I be when this is happening?” Holly asked.

“Somewhere else,” Stone said. “You get to sleep late, if you like.”

“What are the chances that Gerry here will get out of this alive?”

“As close to one hundred percent as possible,” Bill said. “That’s all we can tell you now. We need to keep some things from you.”

“Do you consider me a possible leak?”

“We consider you a teapot,” Claire said. “If you’re too full and too hot, you might blow.”

“And you want my approval?” Holly asked.

“They already have approval,” Stone said, “they don’t need yours.”

“Why did you want me to send everybody home?” Holly asked.

“We have some electrical work to do here,” Tom said. “Audio and visual. When they come in tomorrow morning, the schedule will be on everyone’s desk. You can tell them that you and Sam worked out the schedule tonight.”

Claire took a stack of papers from a briefcase and started distributing the pages to the desks. Everybody else began to leave, except two Secret Service agents at the far end of the room.

Stone came to Holly’s chair. “We can go now. How about some dinner?”

“I’m hungry enough to eat an ox,” Holly said, standing.

“I don’t think that’s on the menu at Caravaggio,” he said, “but they have just about everything else, plus the advantage of being right around the corner.”

“Then why aren’t we already there?” Holly asked.

He helped her into her coat, then offered his arm. “Right this way.”

They walked down Madison to Seventy-fourth Street and took a right. As they walked into the restaurant and were escorted to their table, there was a sudden dip in the other guests’ conversation.

“I’m having to get used to that,” Holly said.