Chief Justice Henry Espinosa relaxed in a wingback chair of his office at the Supreme Court, waiting patiently.
Two hours ago his office had been swept for listening devices by members of the Secret Service, and they’d determined it to be pristine.
One hour ago the office had been swept by an electronics expert Espinosa had known personally for years and trusted completely. As he’d watched, the man had found and disconnected three tiny listening devices.
The knock on his office door was firm and authoritative.
Espinosa rose from the chair and moved across the thick rug. “Hello, Stephen,” he said politely as he opened the heavy door. He was still wondering when those devices had been planted and why the official experts hadn’t found them — or if they were the ones who’d planted them. “Please come in.”
Stephen Hudson had been David Dorn’s vice president. In less than an hour Hudson would be inaugurated and become the country’s forty-fifth president.
Dorn and Hudson had never been close, Espinosa knew. The ticket had been arranged by party leaders purely for political purposes, purely to garner votes. Hudson was a fair-haired senator from California who didn’t even get along with Dorn, but he’d served his purpose. He’d guaranteed the state’s truckload of fifty-five electoral votes for Dorn — and sealed the election.
Then, for all intents and purposes, Dorn had cut Hudson loose. Since the election, they’d met only four times, and Hudson had become little more than a figurehead. He’d tried to lead several high-profile employment initiatives, but he’d gotten no support from the White House, and the initiatives had withered on the vine before ever getting traction.
For the last year Hudson had accepted his situation and eased all the way into the background. But his role was about to change dramatically, and Espinosa was about to initiate the change.
“I won’t be calling you Stephen much longer,” Espinosa said with a smile when they were seated, facing each other. “Very soon it will be Mr. President.”
Hudson’s eyes gleamed. “Sometimes life works in strange ways, Henry.” He leaned forward. “Now tell me why I’m in here meeting with you alone when I’m being inaugurated by you in forty minutes.”
Espinosa leaned forward as well. Typically it would have been the outgoing president and his chief of staff who would have called this meeting just prior to the inauguration. But that wasn’t possible this time.
“I need to tell you about one of the most tightly held secrets of the office you are about to take over,” Espinosa explained in a hushed voice. “I need to tell you about Red Cell Seven.”