Patriot

CHAPTER 38

Nell Spooner crept silently into the sun-filled nursery, knowing full well her young charge had been lying in his bed, wide awake, for hours. His big birthday was finally here, and she’d had an awful time of it getting him to sleep last night. But it was going to be a very long day for him, and she felt he should get all the rest he could before the big celebration.

She and Letitia Smoot, the White House social secretary, had put a tremendous amount of effort into planning the birthday party. Nell, despite the possibility of rain showers, wanted to have the celebration outside on the South Lawn. She had invited her many friends at the British Embassy and their children, and she had wanted it to be American and old-fashioned in every way. The children would get to enjoy hot dogs and hamburgers, cake, Pin the Tail on the Donkey, bobbing for apples… the kind of birthday that would be memorable for all the English children. And the kind Alexei had never known in the mansions of Mayfair and the Cotswolds.

Nell went to the nursery windows and peered down at the wide green lawn and surrounding gardens. Fluffy white clouds in the bluest of skies… a picture-perfect late summer’s day. Already balloons of every color were floating among the trees. A long white table festooned with flowers and more balloons was piled high with presents for the birthday boy.

During her recent tenure working diplomatic security at the British Embassy, Nell had been exceedingly popular. Most of her friends were young mothers with two or three children roughly Alexei’s age, and now she had the very great honor of being able to invite them all to a White House lawn party.

When the pastry chef in the White House kitchen had asked Alexei what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday, he replied, “Every kind of cake, sir! All mixed up together!”

“I’ll do it!” the chef replied with enthusiasm (for he really did like the idea). “But I cannot guarantee what it will taste like, you know.”

“It will taste like everything!” Alexei beamed. “But better, sir!”

“So it will, so it will!” the pastry chef replied, grinning with delight. He loved a culinary challenge, and this young fellow’s birthday cake certainly fell into that category.

It hadn’t taken long for the little boy to win the hearts of everyone who lived and worked in the White House. The Secret Service had adopted him immediately, making him the official K-9 officer in charge of canine hydration, making sure the guard dogs’ water bowls were always full. He was a well-known figure down in the kitchen, usually helping out with the tasting of fresh-made brownies and licking the chocolate chip cookie dough from a wooden spoon before the cookies went into the oven.

Many mornings, when the president took his golden retriever, Fred, for his daily constitutional around the grounds, little Alexei was holding his hand. The child had been anointed the president’s honorary companion. Rosow was also deeply grateful to the child’s father for his help with the troublesome Russian leader; he felt taking Alex’s son under his wing for a while was the very least he could do.

The recent, and nearly successful, attempt on the life of his CIA director had the president and everyone else at 1600 on edge. Were the White House and its inhabitants soon to be on the ISIS terrorists’ hit list? Many of his Secret Service officers thought they already were. So did CIA, but the president kept that confidential to avoid a panic.

After Alexei had had his bath, while Nell was getting him dressed in navy blue shorts and a freshly laundered white-and-red cowboy shirt, she noticed that his lower lip was trembling as he regarded himself in the mirror.

“Alexei, what’s wrong? Don’t you like your birthday shirt? I thought it’s the one you picked out of your drawer last night.”

“Nell, I have a question,” he said, tremulously.

“And I bet I have the answer,” she said, wiping away a tear rolling down his pink cheek.

“Did my daddy come home last night?”

“No, darling. He’s still in France.”

“Is he coming home today?”

“He’ll be back very soon. And, besides, he’s going to call you today, remember? At twelve noon, just before your party starts. And he’s got a big surprise for your birthday. He’s bringing you a present all the way from France when he comes back.”

“A pony or a fire engine, that’s what I asked for.”

“Maybe not that big a surprise, darling.”

“Is Agent Buzzcut invited to my party? The Secret Man?”

“Of course he is! Agent John Sullivan. He can’t wait. He’s going to be handing out the presents for you to open.”

“Is my friend Robby Taylor coming to my party?”

“Of course he is!”

“What about Johnny Eding and Larry Robins? Are they both coming?”

“Absolutely! I talked to their mommies just this morning. And you know what else? The chef told me the ‘all mixed-up cake’ came out perfectly! He says it’s the best cake anyone in the kitchen has ever tasted. And the frosting is ‘everything frosting,’ too! Vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, caramel… everything all swirled up!”

Alexei wrapped his arms around Nell and squeezed.

“I love you, Nell.”

“And I love you. Now, come on. The guests will start to arrive any minute now. First we’re having ice cream and cake, then you’ll open your presents, then we let the games begin! Which one is your favorite game?”

“The donkey one. Oh, and Blind Man’s Bluff and Mother May I, too. I like those best.”

“It’s going to be a wonderful birthday. Oh! The phone is ringing. Go answer it, quick. I’m sure it’s your daddy.”

It was.

It was a wonderful birthday. The weatherman had cooperated and the rain clouds never appeared. The hit of the day with the children had to be the “all mixed-up cake,” which looked like a giant rainbow building in the shape of the Jefferson Memorial with frosted green trees all around it. All the moms wanted the recipe, and Nell just laughed and said, “Ask Alexei, it’s his very own secret recipe.”

Nell, Alexei, and Agent Sullivan had moved to the long table covered with presents now, and she clapped her hands to get the children’s attention.

“All right, everyone, it’s time for the birthday boy to open his presents!”

Moms and children gathered close around the table in the shade of the spreading trees.

Agent Buzzcut was all smiles as he surveyed the long table. “All right, Alexei, look at all these presents. I don’t see a pony in there, but it sure looks like fun. And don’t forget the old birthday rule: the best things come in small packages…”

He handed Alexei a small package, about the size of a deck of cards. The boy dutifully opened it and it was… a deck of old-fashioned Bicycle playing cards. Alexei smiled at his pal Larry Robins, who was teaching him to play Go Fish.

“And next?” the Secret Man said, reaching for another gift.

“I want the biggest one, please!” Alexei cried, in true six-year-old fashion.

“All right, Alexei, since it’s your birthday you get to choose. Is this the biggest one? Or is this the biggest one?”

“That one is biggest! With the blue balloon tied to it!”

“Good choice,” Sullivan said, handing the big box to the birthday boy. All the presents had been prescreened by the Secret Service, of course, and he knew what was in each box. This one he was sure the boy would love. It was a radio-controlled helicopter, one with four big blades, jet black and very high-tech looking.

“Can you help me open it, Nell?” Alexei said, tearing at the wrapping paper.

“Sure,” she said, undoing the ribbon on top.

“What is it, Nell?” Alexei said, looking over her shoulder as she pulled the box top away. “Let me see it!”

“I don’t really know, darling. Some kind of flying machine, I think. A stealth helicopter maybe. With a remote controller. Agent Sullivan will show you how to work it.”

Sullivan got the toy out of the box and set it on the table, checking to see if the controller and the toy chopper both had batteries. They did. He picked up the RC controller first.

“Okay, Alexei, here’s the deal. There are two joysticks. The one on the left controls elevation, making it go up or down. The one on the right controls which way it goes. Push the up switch and then the go switch in the direction you want to fly, okay? Got it?”

“Got it, sir.”

“So it’s switched on. The first thing you want to do is make it go straight up. Left side switch. Then, right side, very gently, to steer it anywhere you want to go. Out over the open grass would be good. Keep away from trees, that’s rule one.”

Alexei picked up the controller, and all the children gathered around to watch his maiden flight.

“Ready for takeoff!” Nell said.

“Easy does it, skipper,” Sullivan added.

“I’m ready!” the boy said, gripping the controller with his left hand, his face flushed with excitement as he lifted off and nudged the joystick forward.

The flying machine rose slowly into the air. Whoops and cheers burst forth from Alexei’s little friends as he slowly maneuvered the helicopter in a clockwise and then counterclockwise direction. He seemed to have an instant feel for flying it, surprising himself as well as Nell and Agent Sullivan.

“To go straight ahead?” he said, looking at Sullivan.

“Push the right stick straight forward.”

“Here we go!” he cried.

The black chopper shot forward out over the wide patch of perfect green lawn. Alexei, instead of slowing the helicopter down or reversing it, chased after it, laughing with glee as the children cried out and ran after him across the grass.

And that was when Nell saw the strange face in the crowd.

She froze, unable to speak. It was the bloated white face of Jules Szell, the Snow King, leering at her from behind a group of happily chatting mothers just arriving from the British Embassy.

Nell grabbed Sullivan’s arm and he turned toward her.

“Him!” she cried, pointing him out as Szell tried to disappear behind all mothers talking under the trees. “He tried to kill Alexei in London! Russian assassin!”

Sullivan sprinted toward the would-be killer, speaking into his mike, locking the White House down as he ran, other agents appearing out of nowhere and all converging on Szell simultaneously. She heard a shrill scream as agents knocked him to the ground and covered him, his hands immediately flex-knotted behind his broad, sweat-soaked back.

Nell instinctively ran toward Alexei. She had no idea how many potential assassins had managed to bypass the vaunted White House security. The birthday boy was about fifty yards away, nearing a copse of trees, and she cried out to him as he ran, but he was lost inside the group of shouting children.

She saw the black toy rising high above him. And then, it seemed to pause. Suddenly it was diving straight toward him. “NO!” Nell screamed as Alexei looked up smiling, ducking only at the last instant to avoid being hit in the face. He was terrified because his toy machine suddenly seemed to have a mind of its own! Now it was flying at full speed around and around him, the razor-sharp blades striking his arms, the top of his head… blood spouted from his forehead and filled his eyes. He cried out for her… it was trying to hurt him!

Nell’s mind was racing, knowing everything now depended on her staying in the moment, steeling herself and saving the child she loved. It was the Snow King himself, Szell, who had wreaked this fresh havoc. Alexei’s toy helicopter wasn’t a toy at all. It was a weapon. Meant to kill him.

She dove forward, leaping up and snatching the speeding helicopter out of midair, landing on her feet.

“Run! All of you! Get away from me! Run as far away from this thing as you can! Now!” The children ran, in a blind panic, toward their mothers.

Nell herself ran, trying in vain to stop the spinning blades that were cutting her fingers to ribbons. She took off in the opposite direction of the children, racing toward Pennsylvania Avenue. Away from Alexei, away from the terrified boys and girls, away from the bewildered ladies gathered beneath the trees. She saw Agent Sullivan sprinting toward her on an angle to intercept her, but she waved him off. She had to get this thing away from everyone before — she looked back over her shoulder.

She was nearly fifty feet away from the children now, and she breathed an instinctive sigh of relief as she looked all around her. Alexei was safe. All the children and their mothers were safe.

No one was even close to Nell Spooner. She suddenly felt so all alone. But she knew that on this day she had done her duty. And duty, after all, was what she had dedicated her life to doing. She took care of the weak, protected them from the strong, those who would do them harm. Perhaps she was just an ordinary woman. But, by God, she felt the strong heart of a warrior beating in her chest. And that is when the helicopter exploded in her hands, killing her instantly.