In the Virginia countryside, Wednesday…

She looked at both men, who were both obviously waiting for her to say something first, not wanting to risk starting their meeting off on the wrong footing. But I don't have time to be amused by their temerity. I tolerate them only because they both have their uses. "We have a problem. I want it solved. Sweeney's off at NATO HQ, and anyway I don't want to call a general meeting. You should be able to handle it, Hank."

Johnson looked uncomfortable. He had been low in the ranks at the DHS when Stephanie Williams was Secretary. He knew she was a lot smarter than he was. I've been kissing her ass for a long time. Johnson's athletic build from college had given way to some serious middle-age spread. He still considered himself to be a lady's man. The affair with the coed had only become a debacle because he was caught at it, caught in a photo taken by some paparazzi who sold it to the Washington Sentinel, an e-zine with the goal of embarrassing as many political fat cats as it could, in either party. Hank still thought they made a handsome couple. The coed was now going out with the quarterback of the University of Maryland football team after dumping him because of the negative publicity.

Johnson would always believe that women were attracted to big, strong men who moved in the circles of power. Except Stephanie. She could leave any male feeling like he had just been castrated. He had seen it happen many times in their overlapping careers. She was also not seduced by strong men. Even as an actress, she had been a loner, eschewing the traditional husband-swapping of Hollywood. Some thought she was lesbian. Johnson knew better. She had enjoyed numerous lovers during her long life; she just didn't keep any of them around long.