“Well, in the end it worked, and very much thanks to you.” Ferguson shook his hand warmly.
Kersey had followed and was standing at the bottom of the ladder and Vernon and Gaunt joined him. A moment later, Marie de Brissac and Hannah Bernstein came down.
Teddy took Marie’s hand briefly, then Hannah’s. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to see you here. Please follow me.”
He walked toward the limousines, and Ferguson said, “A moment, if you please.” He turned to the crew. “My thanks, gentlemen. As I’ve already said, you’ve never been involved in anything more important.”
He shook hands with each of them, then walked to the limousines where the others were waiting.
“The countess is expected at the White House with Blake,” Teddy said. “I’m taking her there now. The rest of you go to the Ritz-Carlton, where three suites have been booked. Time for you to freshen up and so on, and then the President will send for you.”
“Of course,” Ferguson said. “We’ll see you later, then.”
Marie looked tired and a little bewildered. “Yes,” she said. “Later. I must see you again.”
She drove off with Teddy and Blake, and Dillon and Ferguson stood back to allow Hannah to get in the limousine first. As they drove away, Ferguson pressed the button to raise the glass divider.
“That all seemed a bit formal under the circumstances.”
“You’re missing the point, Brigadier,” Hannah said. “The President simply wants to be alone with his daughter at this moment in time.”
“Yes, I see what you mean, I suppose,” he said.
Hannah shook her head. “Men, all the same, no idea of sentiment,” and she leaned back.
In the White House, Jake Cazalet was sitting beside the fire, a prey to conflicting emotion. What would it be like? How would she react? There was a tap on the door, it opened, and Teddy entered.
“Mr. President, your daughter,” he said and stood to one side.
Cazalet got to his feet, found himself shaking, and then Marie de Brissac moved into the room and stood looking at him, but only for a moment.
“Father,” she said.
Cazalet, filled with more emotion than at any time in his life, opened his arms and she ran to him.
It was three hours later that the limousine from the White House picked up Ferguson, Dillon, and Hannah Bernstein.
“A nice trouser suit you’re wearing,” Dillon told her. “Armani, isn’t it?”
“They do have a rather splendid boutique at the hotel,” she said. “Got to look right for the White House.”
“I noticed from the functions board in the foyer that the President is entertaining the Russian Prime Minister at dinner at the Ritz-Carlton tonight,” Ferguson commented.
“Well, that’s good,” Dillon said. “Now that we’ve got her back, he can enjoy it.”
It was raining hard as the limousine moved along Constitution Avenue toward the White House, but in spite of the weather, there were TV cameras and tourists on Pennsylvania Avenue.
Ferguson lowered the glass screen. “I’m surprised, considering the rain.”
The chauffeur said, “A lot of activity with the Russian delegation. I was told to bring you to the East Entrance.”
Ferguson put the screen up again. “They would, I suppose. They use the East Entrance for special visitors who want to avoid media attention.”
The limousine drove up East Executive Avenue and stopped at the gates, where the driver spoke to the guard, who waved them through. They finally stopped and the chauffeur got out and opened the door.
“This way.”
He indicated the door, which opened at once, and Ferguson led the way in. Inside was a Marine Lieutenant in dress uniform, who snapped to attention and saluted.
“Brigadier.”
There was also Teddy Grant, who came forward smiling. “Wonderful to see you all again. If you’d follow me, the President is waiting.”
In the Oval Office, Cazalet sat behind his desk and Marie was standing beside the window with Blake Johnson. She made the first move, running to Hannah and embracing her.
Cazalet came round the desk and shook hands with the three of them. “Impossible to thank you. Blake has given me the whole story. If this was Buckingham Palace, you’d be lining up for awards, but it’s America.”