"I see." Her mother folded her hands. "Or, well, let me not lie about it. I assume that means something positive since I don't really understand what it is you mean."
Kerry relaxed a trifle in her seat. "It is." She paused. "They depend on computers to exchange information with everyone and everything. Right now, they have some dialup ability with a few servers, but it's very limited. What we'll do tonight is get their main computers to talk to the rest of the world using a portable satellite truck while my team is rebuilding the pieces that were destroyed in the attack."
"I see," Cynthia said, again. "Has Dar returned? I know you were concerned about her."
Kerry's face broke into a grin. "Believe it or not, she's home in Miami," she said. "I heard from her around one thirty or so. She may be heading up here tonight. It's a big load off my shoulders, that's for sure."
"How lovely," Cynthia said, with sincere warmth. "I'm so glad she's back safely. It's impossible to believe how dangerous simple travel now is. I was talking to one of my colleagues today about it, and he's terribly worried about tourism, and how that will affect the economy."
Kerry blinked. "Because people will be afraid to fly?"
"Yes," her mother nodded. "You may not realize it, but many of our airlines are on the borderline in terms of being profitable. This sort of thing devastates them. It's a domino also, as so many state economies depend on tourism, you know."
"Like Florida's." Kerry nodded. "Maybe people will just start staying closer to home. Travel in a car." Her brows twitched. "I always wondered what that was like. The longest car trip I've made is from Miami to Orlando."
Her mother looked thoughtful. "We never did have time for that as a family," she allowed. "I think I would have enjoyed driving through the Grand Canyon area. It's so beautiful."
"It's on our list too."
"Well, at any rate," Cynthia sighed. "Several of the intelligence committee would like to meet up with us in the caucus room at four. Does that suit you?" She watched Kerry's face carefully. "It shouldn't take more than perhaps an hour, and then I thought we could have some dinner."
"Sure," Kerry agreed readily. "That's fine by me. I was actually grateful for a reason to get out from under my staff at the Pentagon and let them do their jobs. When I'm around they tend to hover." She smiled briefly. "And really, there wasn't much for me to do there once I got the facilities straightened out and arranged for power and air conditioning."
"Excellent," her mother said.
"Senator?" One of the aides stuck their head in the door, and paused as they spotted Kerry. "Oh, hello there."
"Hi." Kerry smiled at the aide, the older man who'd been with them the night before. "How are you doing?"
"Much better for not having slept in the car, thanks." The aide briefly smiled. "Senator, they've confirmed it. It was the White House and Air Force One that was targeted. No doubt at all."
"Goodness." The senator frowned. "Then that last plane in Pennsylvania, it was headed there?"
"They think so, yes." The aide nodded. "I'm not sure how they were going to target Air Force One, but it was flying all over the place yesterday so--" He shrugged, and ducked back out.
"Thank goodness that came to nothing," Cynthia said. "What a horrible thing this is. So many people hurt. So many people killed." She looked up as her phone rang then glanced at Kerry. "Excuse me, Kerry. I have to take this." She picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Sure." Kerry checked her PDA, gratified to find a note from Dar waiting for her like the fudge at the bottom of a sundae. She leaned on one arm of the chair and opened the note, half listening to her mother's end of the conversation.
Hey babe.
Kerry smiled, hearing Dar's voice saying the salutation. That was a recent development too.
I'm sitting here at my desk trying to get over being hugged by Eleanor.
Kerry stopped reading, her eyes going wide. She leaned closer to the PDA and reread the line, not quite able to believe what she was seeing. "Huh?"
"I'm sorry. Did you say something, Kerry?" her mother asked, putting her hand over the receiver.
"Uh?" Kerry looked up. "No, sorry. I was just reading something here." She indicated the PDA. "Status report from Dar."
"Ah, good." Cynthia went back to the phone. "Edgar, I'm sure you're concerned, and I know we have a somewhat large community of--well, yes, I agree it's possible. People are very upset."
Kerry wrenched her eyes back to the PDA.
I definitely have to head up there. I talked to Gerry, and I need to fill you in, but I'd rather do it in person.
Me too, Kerry agreed readily. I don't frankly care why he wants you up here, matter of fact. They could want us to light the White House with double redundant tin cans and strings and I wouldn't care.
So I'm waiting to hear from Gerry's secretary about flights. I'll drop you a note or call you when I find out anything. Alastair's got everyone in a twitter--he's working out of your office.
Kerry stopped again. My office? She ran quickly over what she'd left on her desk, relaxing when she remembered cleaning it off before she'd traveled. "They couldn't find him an office in that mausoleum?" she muttered. "Sheesh."
Mari wanted to get him space, but I told him he could work out of there and punch your dummy if he got frustrated.
Oh. Kerry scratched her nose. "Hope he likes having you looking back at him, sweetie. That's a big picture of you on my desk."
Anyway. I hope things are settling out there for you. I'd rather not spend the night configuring routers again.
Nope. Kerry could think of much better things to spend the night doing.
I'm going to go grab a sandwich. My body's all screwed up from the damn time change.
Later DD.
"Well, thanks for keeping me informed, Edgar," Cynthia sighed. "Please tell the chief to keep his eyes out for anything. I understand how people feel, but we have to uphold the law." She listened and put the phone back in its cradle. "Well. That's worrying."
"What's up?" Kerry gazed across the desk.
"You know, there are quite some numbers of Muslims that live in Michigan," her mother said. "Edgar Braces, one of the commissioners in Dearborn, is afraid there might be some repercussions against them."
"Ah," Kerry grunted. "I hope people don't react like that."
"I hope so too," Cynthia said. "But you know anger makes people so unreasonable sometimes."
How true that was. Kerry felt a sting of possibly unintended reproach in the words. She decided the retort that was in the back of her throat wasn't appropriate and her mother didn't deserve to hear it. She was being as gracious as Kerry had ever seen her, and she, herself had the inner grace to feel a little abashed for her previous behavior. "It kind of proves the theory though, that violence usually breeds nothing but more violence, doesn't it?"
Cynthia nodded. "We learn from our Lord Jesus that we must turn the other cheek, and love our neighbor, but sometimes I think that lesson stops when our neighbor does not share our values, or our faith, or our history." She studied her hands. "At times, it doesn't even extend to our families."
"Sometimes it doesn't." Kerry gazed back at her evenly. "It doesn't even take much of a difference."
Her mother's face wrinkled a little then she nodded. "Very true." She looked at her watch. "It's time to go down to the caucus room. Are you ready?"
"As I will ever be." Kerry closed her PDA and tucked it into her briefcase. "Let's go." She stood up and locked the tab on the case. "Okay to leave this here?"
Cynthia paused in the act of standing up. "Of course," she said. "We won't be long." She gestured toward the door, and followed Kerry. "Did you have something in mind that you would like for dinner?"
"How do you feel about sushi?"
"Sushi," Cynthia murmured. "I suppose I could try that. It certainly can't be any worse than the Samoan cultural dinner I attended last month."
Chapter Eighteen
ALASTAIR TOOK A moment to stroll around his borrowed office space. The room was neat, but he noticed at once that there were more personal items in it than there were in Dar's. Certificates on the walls, for one thing. He examined them.
Dar most likely had the same, and probably more, but he decided she was so secure in her technical reputation she found no use for the things as wall hangings. Kerry hadn't been at it as long, so she probably felt she had something to prove.
Both attitudes worked, he decided. He moved along to the front of the office, pausing to study the full size boxing dummy complete with what were obviously used gloves. Was it something he expected to find in a vice president's office?
Probably not. He turned and wandered back to the desk, pulling the chair out and taking a seat in it. The first thing he noticed was the pictures near the monitor. One big one of Dar, another of her and Kerry together, and one of Dar's parents with a small one next to it of the dog.
Not very different at all from his own desk. Alastair tapped his thumbs together. Then he pressed the speakerphone's button and dialed the extension to his office in Houston.
"Alastair McLean's office."
"Who the hell's that?" Alastair inquired. "Some old crackpot?"
Bea chuckled. "Hello, boss," she said. "Where are you now?"
"Caribbean Hell," Alastair answered. "I just got introduced to a demon's brew of coffee and sugar they suck down here by the gallon and my eyeballs are bouncing off the walls."
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