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for leaving him,” Nathan said.

“She has her reasons and without stepping into her shoes I can’t say she’s wrong. It’s her life.”

Matthew Winger scratched his neck.

“I just hope this doesn’t become a regular thing. Back when I first started, the old bulls would tell me about their early days with guys like Kennedy and Johnson. The White House was a madhouse back then and they were constantly chasing women. People didn’t know about it because the papers felt like it wasn’t something they were supposed to cover, but everyone around knew and these guys just acted like they could do anything they wanted. This might be the tip of the iceberg,” he said.

Although she’d only spoken directly to Alex Morrin once, a conversation she’d dissected in her head a hundred times, Jane was skeptical that he was the type to get wasted every weekend, regardless of how he acted back in college at Ohio State.

“We’ll find out what’s in his heart,” she said.

“And make do regardless,” Winger added in a low voice.

Although Jane’s shift had long ago ended, she found herself strangely fascinated by what was playing out in front of her. The president was really only a few blocks away from their headquarters, close enough for her to see what was happening with her own eyes if she wanted, but that wasn’t her place. She belonged to her job, and watching from afar was her place.

There was a part of her though that kind of wanted to get a glimpse of how the president danced, and she wondered if any footage from inside the nightclub would make it to the screens of the Joint Operations Command. By the time the president and Leslie Hodge finished their meal, Nathan had decided he’d seen enough and left, leaving Jane leaning against the side of the doorway with her arms crossed, like she had snuck into a movie.

There wasn’t anything special going on at her apartment anyway that couldn’t wait. Her refrigerator and shower needed cleaning. All her riding was making her think about actually getting a bike of her own and sticking with the hobby on her days off. Or maybe she’d find a way to get back into road racing.

When the president and his date visited Ultrabar on F Street, the building had essentially been transformed into a government building in the past hour. Jane listened in as agents at their stations handled everything from running background checks on every patron to taking deliveries being dropped off in the back.

To her disappointment, she didn’t get a good look at the president’s dancing, whether he was awkward and jerky or at least comfortable and enjoying himself. Guys had it easy when it came to dancing anyway and could more or less stand there and sway a bit. Jane couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually gone somewhere with the intent to dance. A friend’s wedding a few years ago, perhaps.

The president remained for a couple of hours, during which time he had a good five or six drinks. Watch Commander Winger kept looking over at Jane, seemingly surprised that she was still there. Jane began to wonder why she hadn’t left herself now that the confusion and tension of earlier in the night had dissipated. The whole operation was going off without a hitch and it looked like the evening was going to be winding down. The president was safe, but she still felt she was waiting for something.

“Driver is right out the door with the engine running,” the agent said at her desk.

“I think we’re in the clear to wrap this up,” Winger said.

Despite the comforting words, the pit at the bottom of Jane’s stomach came back with a vengeance as the president climbed into the vehicle and started moving down the street.

At first the Beast progressed north in a way that suggested that it might be returning to Colombia Heights, but then it turned east onto the next street.

“Driver has been instructed to head directly to the residence,” the agent said. Oh, he was taking her home.

That was what she had been waiting for, and now she pushed off from the wall and slipped out the door so that she could go back to her lonely apartment. A lucky lady would be staying over at the White House tonight. Deep down Jane had suspected that such an outcome was not only possible but probable, but it still stung.

6

Catocin Mountain Park

Hauvers, MD

Jane was straddling her bike at 7 AM the next morning on the end of the Camp David loop, ready to ride through the brisk but fresh air with compression shorts and riding jersey on, not to mention the gun and radio strapped to her. More than anything she felt ready to tackle a new challenge and appreciated the opportunity to do something a little different.

Dedan waited a few feet away as well, and the two of them shared a nervous glance about what they were in store for. Although there were a dozen other agents and emergency medical personnel positioned about the loop, if the two of them didn’t perform adequately they really would need to hire a professional rider for the job.

The president arrived forty-five minutes late. They watched the Beast cruise into the secluded hideaway at a noticeably slow speed, crawling around the turns. When it came to a stop and Alex Morrin awkwardly stumbled out in baggy basketball shorts and a t-shirt, Jane immediately noticed his bloodshot, squinting eyes. He hardly seemed like the same person she’d seen before, and as he came over a little of his smell hit her.

She knew he’d left the nightclub in no position to drive, but that seemed like only the beginning of the drinking and whatever else had gone on. There was no need to ask any of the agents what they’d seen or heard. She could fill in the blanks herself. For all she knew Leslie Hodge would be permanently relocating to the residence now.

“Sir,

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