asking puffball questions of a conf gressman who was more than willing
to talk for the benefit o the evening news coverage. It was a fact that,
if he so desired, President Alan Richmond could move about without fear
that anyone would be successful in tracking his whereabouts. He could
even disappear from public view for as long as he wished, although that
was the antithesis of what a successful politician hoped to accomplish
in a day’s work. And that privilege boiled down to one common
denominator.
The Secret Service. They were the best of the best. This elite group had
proved it time and again over the years, as they had in planning this
most recent activity.
length hooded cloak pulled from her bag. Sunglasses covered her eyes.
She had walked for several blocks, randomly window-shopping, then taken
a red-line Metro train to Metro Center. Exiting the Metro she had walked
two more blocks and entered an alley between two buildings scheduled for
demolition. Two minutes later, a car with tinted windows , had emerged
from the alley. Collin had been driving. Christy Sullivan was in the
back seat. She had been sequestered in a safe place with Bill Burton
until the President had been able to join her later that night.
The Sullivan estate had been chosen as the perfect spot for the planned
interlude because, ironically, her home in the country was the last
place anyone would expect Christy Sullivan to be. And Russell knew it
would also be perfectly empty, guarded by a security system that was no
barrier to their Plans Russell sat down in a chair and closed her eyes.
Yes, she had two of the most capable members of the Secret Service in
this house with her. And, for the first time, that fact troubled the
Chief of Staff. The four agents with her and the President tonight had
been handpicked, out of the approximately one hundred agents assigned to
the presidential detail, by the President himself for these little
activities. They were all loyal and highly skilled. They took care of
the President and held their tongues, regardless of what was asked of
them. Up until tonight President Richmond’s fascination with married
women had spawned no overwhelming dilemmas. But tonight’s events clearly
threatened all of that. Russell shook her head as she forced herself to
think of a plan of action.
A little after noon, Christy Sullivan had walked out of her LUTHER
STUDIED THE FACE. IT WAS INTELLIGENT, ATTRAcTive beauty salon in Upper
Northwest. After walking one block but also a very hard face. You
could almost see the mental she had stepped into the foyer of an
apartment building and[. maneuvering as the forehead alternately
wrinkled and then thirty seconds later she had walked out encased in a
full-@@ went lax. Time slipped by and she didn’t budge. Then Gloria i
Russell’s eyes opened and moved across the room, not missing any detail.
Luther involuntarily shrank back as her gaze swept by him i like a
searchlight across a prison yard. Then her eyes came to the bed and
stopped. For a long minute she stared at the sleeping man, and then she
got a look on her face that Luther could not figure out. It was halfway
between a smile and a grimace.
She got up, moved to the bed and looked down at the man.
A Man of the People, or so the people thought. A Man for the Ages. He
did not look so great right now. His body was half on the bed, legs
spread, feet nearly touching the floor; an awkward position to say the
least when one was wearing no clothes.
She ran her eyes up and down the President’s body, linger-I ing on some
points, an activity that was amazing to Luthed considering what was
lying on the floor. Before Gloria Russell had entered the room and faced
off with Burton, Luther had expected to hear sirens and to be sitting
there watching policemen and detectives, medical examiners and even spin
doctors swarming everywhere; with news trucks piling up in vast columns
outside. Obviously, this woman had a different plan.
Luther had seen Gloria Russell on CNN and the major networks, and