He looked startled, then grinned. “No, I wasn’t going to talk about what didn’t happen between us. This is something else entirely.”
“Oh. Well, I knew something was wrong,” she said, as she set down her go-bag and headed to the small kitchenette. “You want a Diet Coke?”
“No, nothing.” But he grabbed a bottle of water and took a swig.
“You’ve been distracted since before we landed. You’re worried about Damari, aren’t you?”
He took another drink of water, then faced her. “After reading how my father emphasized what a chameleon he is, how he can fit into any situation, uses makeup and prosthetics to alter his looks regularly, I think I’d be remiss not to worry. Could he somehow be here? Yeah, I know, that sounds crazy, but still, I can’t shake it off. If he is, could he have one of Spenser’s bombs and plans to set it off?”
She’d never seen him quite like this. She felt her heart begin to pound. “Nicholas, we know he hasn’t had time to have plastic surgery since Vanessa took his photo at Tahoe. So we’re not completely in the dark.” Well, that was a lie. “With what your father told us, maybe it’s enough of a baseline.”
He tipped his water bottle in salute. “Every photo of him we looked at on our flight here, he didn’t look anything like the photo Vanessa sent in. So, a baseline? Oh, no.” He raised his hand, swiped it through his hair. “I’m still hyper, ignore me.” He stared around the cabin. “It’s just a bad feeling I can’t seem to shake.”
“The vice president is safe here, Nicholas. Camp David’s security is legendary. I mean, this is a working naval base. Even if Damari had been able to track us, or the vice president, this place is crawling with military. Did you see the men with dogs walking the perimeter? They had HK416s, you know, that’s the updated M4 the SEAL teams like to carry now. I don’t know what their security measures are here on a usual basis, but they’ve clearly stepped things up.” She walked to him and lightly laid her hand on his arm. “It will be all right. Like the vice president said, tonight we celebrate.”
He nodded, everything she’d said was true, but still . . . He finished the water, sent the bottle in a looping arc toward the trash can, where it slipped in without touching the sides.
“Nice shot. Not quite a three-pointer, but close.”
He lightly touched his hand to her arm. “Humor me, Mike. Promise me you’ll keep your eyes open. Just in case.”
79
KING TO B1
The president of the United States met them at the door of the Aspen Lodge. Up close and personal, Mike thought Jefferson Bradley looked pretty impressive. He was sixty-four, in excellent shape. He had gleaming silver hair, dark eyebrows, a chiseled jaw, and, best of all, he was tall with a commanding presence, seemingly a must to win an election in the United States. He looked the part of fighter pilot turned politician, still had the cocky walk.
When he folded his hands around hers, they were warm and smooth, a long time since he’d been the wild-hair pilot back in the day.
He leaned close. “A pleasure, Agent Caine. Thank you for all your help today. I hear your father’s in law enforcement, too. Pretty impressive pedigree you have.”
“Thank you. Both my father and I love what we do. He tells me I’m very lucky to be working for you, sir.” Not quite the truth, but it would do.
He laughed. “Yes, I am your boss, aren’t I?” He turned to Nicholas, took his hand and simply looked at him silently for a long moment.
“I owe you my life,” he said simply. “Without your intervention, I’d be fish food right now, as well as my staff and all the people aboard the plane. I owe you a debt of gratitude which can never be repaid.”
Nicholas felt the pull of the man’s power, and he felt the emotion in his words.