Stuart Woods_Stone Barrington 14

splashing. “How much time do I have?”
    Will checked his wristwatch. “Minus ten minutes.”
    â€œShit! Are they down there waiting?”
    â€œThey’re in the Oval; we’re having cocktails there.”
    â€œYou go ahead; I’ll be there a few seconds after you.”
    â€œSomeone on the staff has heard that Hugh English was seen having lunch with Cal Ferguson.”
    â€œThat will have to keep until I have a face again.”
    Will went back to his dressing room, got into his waistcoat and dinner jacket, chose a white silk pocket square, put his glasses, pen and jotting pad, which contained his nuclear code card, into his inside pockets and started across the bedroom. “Minus twelve minutes,” he called out.
    â€œGo fuck yourself, Mr. President!”
    Will laughed all the way to the elevator.

    T hey were halfway through their first martini when Kate swept into the Oval Office. “I’m so sorry to be late,” she said, shaking hands with the PM and his wife. “I wish I could blame it on national security, but it was just traffic.”
    â€œThat’s quite all right,” the PM said. “We have traffic in Australia, too.”
    Will handed her a dirty martini with an olive stuffed with an anchovy. “Inhale that and relax.”
    â€œIt’s not like you’re late for the Queen,” the PM’s wife said. “I was once twenty minutes late for the Queen, when we were in London. She was not amused.”
    â€œThe Duke of Edinburgh was amused,” the PM said. “I thought he would burst out laughing, until the Queen gave him that look .”
    Kate drew in a third of her martini. “Ahhhh,” she said.
    â€œMr. President…” the PM began.
    â€œPlease, we’re Will and Kate.”
    â€œAnd we’re Geoff and Sheila,” he replied.
    â€œSheila is the national term for female in Australia,” Sheila said. “Makes it easy for people to remember my name.”
    â€œWill,” the PM began again, “when I visited the Capitol this afternoon, a senator, that ginger-haired fellow, the tall one…”
    â€œSenator Ferguson?”
    â€œThat’s the one.”
    â€œHe said something odd to me; he said, ‘When you see the President tonight, ask him how Teddy is.’”
    Will shot a glance at Kate. “Oh?”
    â€œWas he talking about Teddy Kennedy?”
    Will shook his head. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell exactly what Senator Ferguson is talking about. You ever get any time for golf in your job?” Will asked, anxious to change the subject.
    â€œEvery Sunday,” the PM said, “if the country’s not being invaded. I think it gives you a sort of perspective to know that there’s an activity that’s more frustrating than government.”
    Will laughed. “Exactly.”
    There was a rap on the door and the chief usher opened it. “Dinner is served, Mr. President, Prime Minister.”
    â€œI’m sorry we didn’t have more quiet time before this thing,” Will said.
    â€œNo,” Kate said, “ I’m sorry; all my fault.” She dropped back a step and took Will’s arm as they followed their guests.
    â€œWhat’s up with Ferguson?” Will asked under his breath.
    â€œIt’s Hugh English,” she said. “He isn’t wasting any time.”
    â€œI’m confused.”
    â€œI relieved him today; Lance Cabot has the job. I thought I had contained Hugh, but apparently not.”
    â€œDo something painful to him,” Will said.
    â€œI’ll give it some thought.”
    â€œI don’t suppose you have an assassin over there who could deal with Ferguson?”
    â€œWhere is Teddy Fay when we need him?” she asked, and they swept into the East Room.

48
    S enator Calvin Ferguson, R-UT, sat across the East Room with his wife, Evelyn, who was twenty-seven years his junior, and gazed at Katharine Lee.
    â€œWho are you staring at, honey?” Evelyn asked him, leaning in close, so that he could look down her cleavage. That always got his attention.
    â€œKate Lee,” he said. “I planted a tiny bomb this afternoon, and I want to see if it explodes tonight.”
    Evelyn, Ferguson’s former deputy press secretary, had replaced his late wife an alarmingly short time after her death; rumor had it that he had proposed to Evelyn in his wife’s hospice room.