Gunny was a rock star. Well, not really, but it felt that way when they did their swing through the southwest on the campaign tour. He almost signed as many autographs as the President did. They did one outdoor town hall meeting on a stage in Flagstaff, Arizona; the Mayor told them that it was as if the population of the town doubled over night. It was just Gunny and the President on the stage, sitting on a couple of stools, fielding questions from the audience. Stacy had to admit, from a PR standpoint, she wished that those two would have done that throughout the campaign thus far, they just played off each other so naturally. Victor even looked Vice Presidential.
Victor? Where the hell did that come from? He was Gunny. Hell, it had only really been a year since she stopped calling him 'boss'. It had only been about two weeks since San Francisco, maybe that was the problem. She still had a bit of an airy hangover from that one night. Yeah, that had to be it. Three years without a date and then in one night she gets Italian food, San Francisco, lights and a live performance from Tony Bennett; it was just a bit romantic overload.
When they were wrapping up the event in Flagstaff, the music was blaring and Gunny and the President were signing autographs and shaking hands, a pair of panties flew out of the crowd and hit Gunny in the shoulder. The President chuckled as the Secret Service peeled the pink lace from Gunny's shoulder. The two men made their way through the crowd and back to the train. They would wave from the back platform of the caboose as the train headed for the next stop.
She didn't know why she was thinking of it, that was almost a week ago. The train sped along the tracks from San Antonio to Austin. She tapped on the door to his railcar. "Come in!" He bellowed and she slid the door to one side. "Hey, what's going on?"
"Needed coffee." She grinned as she moved over to the brewer. "I was thinking about Flagstaff."
"I swear, I didn't plan for those panties to fly out of the crowd, it just kind of happened." He chuckled, setting the book he was reading to one side. "What's up?"
"No, I was just thinking. I know I didn't say anything at the time, but you were good in Flagstaff." She poured herself a cup. "Almost like three and a half years as White House Chief of Staff has made you a natural."
"Hey, I can fake it with the best of them." Gunny played it off with a smile.
"That wasn't faking it, you were having fun. You belonged up there." She sat down on the edge of his bed. "Damn it, you should be the Vice President!"
"No." Gunny shook his head quickly.
"If you talked to him, you know he'd do everything in his power to make sure that the convention nominated you, you know it!" She protested. "You'd have Charlie, Morley, Kat, me and half of the Democrats in the House and Senate ready to back you. You were too good to let it go to waste."
"No." He replied simply. There was a stark firmness in his visage. She shook her head.
"Why not?" She challenged. She thought back to all the times that the President had ushered the rest of the staff out of the room to talk to Gunny in the last few months. "He already asked you."
"Yeah." Gunny nodded.
"Why the hell did you turn him down?" Her ire was rising.
"I like the job I have now." Gunny answered. "Besides, I'm not a politician; I a Marine and a former New Mexico cop. I couldn't handle the ceremonial hand-holding that the Vice President does; I'd go out of my mind. Besides, I'm not the guy, I'm guy that the guy depends on and I like it that way."
"You're a good man; I don't care if you're not a politician. And I'm pretty sure that the American people would rather have one good man as Vice President then a million politicians." She went back to sitting at the foot of his bed, resting a hand on his knee.
"Yeah, but there's also the media attention, I couldn't handle that. It's a lot easier to be in the wings. When you're in someone's shadow, the lights from the cameras aren't so bright." He picked up the book, determined to stick his nose back in it and ignore what was happening.
0100 ZULU
RABB RESIDENCE
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
Harm was as white as a ghost as he walked into the house. His expression was blank, a combination of shock and horror. Mac poked her head out from the kitchen and saw his pale expression. "Harm, are you okay? Did something happen?"
"Had Nationals tickets…" Harm started, unable to complete a sentence. "Went to Sergei's…Heard loud crash inside…"
"Uh-oh." Mac took his cover from him and tossed it on the hat rack.
"Went to see what happened…walked in on Sergei and Anna…broken table…" At this point, Harm's horror had shaken off a bit and Mac was trying hard to restrain a chuckle. "Ran screaming…"
"You screamed?" Mac was about ready to burst.
"It was a manly wail." Harm corrected.
"Yeah, okay." Mac was laughing openly now. "So after you let out this manly wail, you came straight home?"
"Yes." Harm nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go remove my eyes with an ice cream scoop."
"I don't know, Harm, Anna's certainly attractive." Mac teased as she followed him into the kitchen.
"What's your point?" Harm drank a glass of water.
"Well, I'm just saying that you don't have to protest so much." Mac tried to conceal her coy grin.
"Mac, I haven't looked at another woman since we got married." Harm answered.
"Okay, that's great. But most people wouldn't look so completely horrified." Mac chuckled. "You could just shrug it off."
"What is it with members of this family and members of that family?" Harm leaned back against. "I don't mean it like that; there just seems to be something that members of this family keep having some connection with members of that family."
"Oh, I see, this is about Sasha and Timothy." Mac walked over to her husband.
"She's nine." Mac started.
"He's ten." Harm countered. "He's a smart kid and he's a good athlete and he's respectful and…"
"And what, Harm?" Mac set her fingertips in the middle of her chest.
"And, I just kind of think things are moving a little fast, you know. I figured that the first boy that Sasha brought by the house would be someone that I couldn't like. Instead, she brought someone by who's intelligent and athletic and has a Princeton pedigree stamped on his forehead." Harm smirked.
"Yeah, well her taste in men is certainly an improvement on the men that I dated before I met you. Granted, Tim is still young yet, things could change." Mac hugged her husband.
"In that family? I think his future is either in the diplomatic corps, the Marine Corps or politics." Harm grinned. "I don't know, I'm jumping the gun but it just seems like one day they're in the crib and the next day they think boys are cute."
"She never said he was cute, she's just finally accepting that boys are human." Mac chuckled. "Which reminds me, her friends are having their sleepover upstairs tonight, so, we should be quiet and let them have their fun."
Upstairs, Sasha had a few of her girlfriends over. They talked and watched a few movies. Her friends were well intentioned though a few of them had entered their boy crazy phase just a little early. As the credits rolled on their latest movie, Sasha turned the DVD player off. "What do you guys want to do now?" Sasha asked.
"We could make s'mores." Her friend Lana suggested.
"We don't have a fireplace." Sasha reminded her friend.
"You can make them over a fireplace." Lana informed the group.
"We'd burn the house down." Rachel interrupted. "Let's just watch another movie or some TV or something."
"We could talk about he guys in our class." Janie suggested. "Come on, it's not like we have anything else to do."
"Why would we talk about the boys in our class?" Sasha was somewhat confused.
"Because some of them are pretty cute." Rachel joked.
"They are not!" Sasha protested.
"Sure they are." This time Lana joined in and Sasha felt like she was surrounded.
"Like who?" She maintained her serious expression.
"Brad." Janie started. "Come on, coolest boy in school. Tall, shaggy hair, national superstar."
"Bradley Ross is like my brother, Janie, he's not cute." Sasha answered. "I've known him since he was…well, I don't really how long but it's been a long time."
"So, what about Jack. He's taller, a nice guy, he kind of reminds me of one of those big lovable dogs." It was Rachel's turn to make Sasha squirm this time.
"Jack's a pain in the butt." She got up off the floor.
"Hey, wait girls; I think I know our dear Sasha's soft spot." Lana jumped up off the floor. "Who's the one person she spends most of her time with at school? The one person who she is rarely ever seen without?"
"Tim!" Rachel and Janie answered. "So, Sasha's got a weakness for the dark and mysterious one. The brainy types."
"I do not!" A heavy shade of pink infused the cheeks of the young Rabb.
"Yes you do!" Lana pointed out. "You're blushing."
"It's warm in here." Sasha pointed out. "I should open a window."
1113 ZULU
FERDINAND MAGELLAN
OUTSIDE OF AUSTIN, TEXAS
"Sir, it's time to wake up." Gunny put in the call.
"Gunny, I'm going to have the surgeon general attach a snooze button to your brain, it won't hurt much." The President grumbled as he slid out of bed. "To Kat and Morley have the speech ready?"
"Yes, sir." Gunny affirmed. The other end of the line went dead. The President walked into Gunny's railcar in his dark blue Presidential bathrobe. "Good morning, sir. Coffee's ready and we've got a copy of the Washington Post."
"Good, now I won't have to have the Secret Service kill you." The President commented as he took the coffee mug. "What's the latest on the race for Vice President?"
"Only a few undecided states left. Turner's proved he can play in the same league as Wallace and Proper." Gunny answered. "New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, Tennessee, Maryland, West Virginia and New York are still undecided."
"What happened to Illinois, California and Pennsylvania?" The President was suddenly interested.
"All have Turner polling over 50 percent. He's got them in his column." Gunny answered. "He could win on the first ballot but he'd need New York and Texas."
"He's not going to get Texas, Danny Proper is big here. Not sure I know why, but he is. His only hope of getting the nomination on the first two ballots is that he's so far out in front after the first ballot that the delegates have no choice but to pick him on the second ballot." The President lowered his coffee mug. The two men made their way to the dining car. They took a seat with the rest of senior staff. "Helene is going to the prom with her new boyfriend next week." There was an almost deafening silence at that remark.
"Well, sir, she is seventee…" Morley and Stacy both covered Kat's mouth to keep her from finishing that sentence. The President's niece was not a good topic of conversation for the senior staff to get entangled with.
"Is she going one the college tour with us in July, sir?" Charlie shifted the discussion.
"She is." The President ruffled his paper.
"How did the speechwriting go, you two?" He looked over at Kat and Morley who looked like death warmed over.
"I almost killed Morley with a butter knife, sir." Kat answered.
"Ah well, better luck next time." The President chuckled. "Are you ready to have me look the speech over?" Morley nodded drowsily and handed the President seven sheets of loosely strung together yellow legal paper. The President set the paper down on the table and looked over the speech. "We're quoting a lot of authors."
"The first part of the speech is about creativity, sir." Morley replied, ready to pass out on the table.
"I gathered that." The President read through the speech rather quickly. It was the standard kind of inspirational rhetoric. You were talking to university kids, which meant that you talked about creativity, opportunity, free expression and leadership, then waited for the applause. "I'm receiving some sort of honorary doctorate, right?"
"Yes, sir; in political science." Charlie answered. "We have to get going, I think they're expecting us at the ceremony around 10am or so. I'm not sure that they're going to be particularly strict with the President of the United States."
"Well, let's hope not." The President got up from the table and padded down the aisle of the railcars back to his suite to get ready for his commencement address to the graduating class of the University of Texas.
"He's really not a morning person." Stacy mused.
"Let's just try to keep him from growling at anyone today." Gunny joked.
"I heard that!" The President shouted and the staff went silent.
1344 ZULU
ST. GREGORY'S
WASHINGTON, DC
"Hey Brad! Hey Brad!" Jimmy Roberts came running up to the boys waving a magazine in the air. He was sort of a blonde version of his dad, kind of short and on the huskier side but a nice guy and a close friend of the Ross boys. "Did you see the latest issue of Sports Illustrated?"
"No, I haven't been to the library yet." Brad answered. Jimmy handed him the magazine and a wide grin grew on Brad's face. He was on the cover. It was a great picture too, one of him scoring the game winning goal against Michigan in the Eastern Final. In the blank space next to Brad's head the caption read 'The Next Gretzky?' "They just gave me the headline because I'm dad's kid." Brad tried to shake it off.
"I gotta disagree with you, buddy. If you sucked or were just average, they wouldn't have done anything at all." Tim stated. "You earned this." He gave his brother a pat on the back.
"You know, Tim, you need to stop spending so much time with mom. You're turning into a real sissy, dude." Jack punched his brother in the shoulder.
"Coach ordered like six hundred of those, he's handing them out inside the school." Jimmy told the boys.
"Really?" Brad looked up from the magazine in his hands. The boys headed down the hallway, Secret Service keeping a wider perimeter in the narrow hallways. The boys walked into homeroom where Sasha was sitting on he desk at the front reading out of the magazine to the rest of the class.
"Hail the conquering hero!" She called out as the boys entered. She leapt of the desk. "Are we supposed to kiss his ring or something?" She remarked caustically, looking at Tim.
"I don't know, His Majesty hasn't told us proper protocol yet." Tim turned to his brother. "What is thy command, sire?"
"My command is that you two knock it off." Brad looked slightly annoyed. "Seriously, if I don't finish this year with a 'B' average Mom is going to tear a whole new strip off of me. That's not something that I particularly want to go through."
"Besides, now that he's a cover mode for Sports Illustrated, all the girls are going to be swooning over him on the campaign trail this summer." Jack commented as he took a seat behind his desk.
"Jack." Tim tossed his brother a look.
"Shut up?" Jack chanced. Tim nodded and Jack buttoned his lip. Each of the boys embodied a small part of their father. Brad was burdened, or at least he felt that way, with a natural charisma and an ability to make a good impression on just about anyone. Jack was blessed with an endless sense of humour and a strong sense of loyalty. Tim seemed to have gotten the lion's share of both his mother's intellect and his father's, he was more of an introvert though, completely willing to let Brad indulge himself in the glories of popularity and be his second in command.
They were a sort of clique at school. Well, Brad liked to think of the whole school as his clique but he had a core group of friends. There were his brothers, of course. Tim and Jack were the best friends a guy could have, even though they faced ceaseless questions about whether, as triplets, they could read each other's minds. Jimmy Roberts was like their sidekick; Robin to their collective Batman; Ringo to their John, Paul and George. There was their cousin Arleigh, he didn't go to school with them, but he visited often enough. Finally there was Sasha Rabb, she was his brother's girl, thought neither of them knew it yet and likely wouldn't for a long time.
Sasha and his brother were inseparable most hours of the day. Their grades were almost interchangeable and they frequently competed for the top marks in the class on tests and projects. He'd admit that she was cute, well, most girls at this school looked good in the uniforms. Sasha was shorter then Tim was, but not by much. In ways, she looked a lot like her mom must have when she was younger. His Dad always told him that these were the best years, like Glory Days or something.
Yeah, he knew that he wasn't the smartest kid, the was Tim. Or the nicest, that was Jack but he like to think that the time that he spent with his father made him the wisest of the three. It wasn't about asking dad the question, Tim and Jack both did that, it was about hanging around to get the answer and actually listening to it. The teacher walked into the room and saw a copy of the Sports Illustrated placed squarely on his desk. "Mr. Ross was this your doing?" The teacher held up the magazine.
"No, but I hear there's a really good article in that issue." Brad joked with a broad smile. His smile was different from Tim's, Brad could actually run at a thousand watts, teeth and all. You could practically hear the doting, dreaming girls in the room sigh.
"I warn you, Mr. Ross; your sense of humour will not win you any points, either will your new celebrity status." Their teacher certainly seemed to have a surly demeanour this morning.
"Hey, I'm just here to learn some history, teach." Brad chuckled. "We were up to Roosevelt from last time, right?"
"Yes, well…" The teacher opened his briefcase just in time for the national anthem, the pledge and the morning announcements.
1729 ZULU
WASHINGTON NAVY YARD
WASHINGTON, DC
Harm walked into Bax's office at just after noon. "The Chuckie V is up for retrofitting this year and I think we have to put JFK out of service early, she's giving the crew some trouble." Bax leaned back in his chair and quickly reviewed the report.
"You're right, I'll send this up to Tom Boone within the next hour." Bax set the filed aside on his desk. "How's the new F-24 project coming along at North Island, you were out there a couple of weeks ago."
"The Panther's got a few problems but they're still working the kinks out. She's faster then a greasy naked guy sliding on ice though." Harm mused as he leaned up against the door to Bax's office. "Anything else, sir."
Bax let out a heavy sigh. "Harm, I'm absolutely scared to death."
"Oh this ought to be good." Harm grinned from ear to ear. "The last time you were scared to death it was because Chaplain Simons caught you trying to serenade his daughter in the nude."
"As I recall, I had a very pleasant singing voice." Bax retorted.
"As I recall, but I'll call Keeter to make sure, you were off key and I don't think it was your pitch that the good Chaplain was objecting to." Harm laughed. "What has you scared to death for the second time in thirty years."
"Jen's pregnant." Bax blurted out.
"That would do it." Harm replied quickly. "Congratulations, by the way."
"Do you have any advice to make me less…less…I don't know, less freaked out?" To say Bax was panicked was to underestimate just how neurotic he'd become.
"Yes, three things. First, there is nothing more beautiful then seeing your wife pregnant. Second, your wife will never be so prone to violent outbursts of rage then when she's pregnant. Keep firearms and sharp objects out of her reach being as you're likely to be the target of her rage. Which in her mind is justified, since it's your fault she's pregnant." Harm paused for a second.
"How do you…" Bax went to ask, Harm thought it wise to interrupt him.
"Don't try to make sense out of it, you'll only give yourself a headache." Harm advised. "Third, and this is unique to your case, pray for a boy."
"Why?" Bax was genuinely flummoxed now.
"Bax, let me paint a quick picture for you. Your daughter is seventeen. Because she's a mixture of you and Jen, she's going to have traits from both of you. Let's say that she looks just like Jen did at that age. Now, as a father, you'd already be worried right?" Harm inquired.
"Yeah." Bax could swear he felt five new grey hairs spring out of his head just thinking about it.
"Alright, now combine that with the fact that every story about you when you were around that age involves you taking your clothes off for some purpose or another, but most of those stories involve you lusting after some member of the opposite sex." Harm didn't need to complete the thought. The mere fact that Bax appeared to age five years in five seconds was proof enough that he got it.
"So you're saying I should…" Bax just start nodding slowly.
"Hope for a son, absolutely." Harm chuckled. "Seriously, just calm down and remember one thing. Our folks were scared too, and their folks were scared and their folks were scared. In the end, it all comes down to making an honest to God effort and doing the best you can. Once you've done that, you've given your kids all you can and you just hopes that you've given them the tools to know right from wrong and follow their dreams."
"You sound like the dust jacket on a freakin' Disney movie, Harm." Bax joked. "Thanks, Buddy."
"No problem. I'm not the one who's teaching you how to change diapers though. Talk to your wife about that one." Harm headed for the door. "I'll get back to you on the submarines by 1600 okay?"
"Yeah." Bax nodded as Harm walked through the door.
0122 ZULU
UNIVERSITY OF TEXAS
AUSTIN, TEXAS
The President's commencement address was interrupted for applause twenty-three times. Not bad for a fifteen minute speech. Now, he was at a campus bar with a few members of the graduating class and they were doing the 'Rock the Vote' session of the night. Once again, it was him and Gunny sitting on their stools, their suit jackets removed and their ties loosened, taking questions from an attentive audience. By this point they were about five minutes in.
"My question is for Mr. Galindez." A young Latina stood up in the middle of the crowd. The roving microphone worked its way over to her. "What's it like to be the First Hispanic Chief of Staff?"
"I don't think of myself as the first Hispanic to hold my job and I've found that most of the politicians that I deal with on Capitol Hill don't see me that way either. I think it's really the media that paints that picture because it seems new and shocking to them and I know that my visibility in this administration allows me to be a campaign asset which is good because I can help represent the views of the Hispanic community in close proximity to the Oval Office. I just don't think being Hispanic makes my abilities in my job any different then it would if I were white or black or a woman." Gunny answered.
"My question is for the President." A tall young man stood up near the front. The microphone moved over to him. "Mr. President, you've been criticized harshly on talk radio and on other such conservative media outlets for carrying views which run contrary to your faith as a Catholic, what do you have to say about that?"
"In 1960, the fears about electing Catholic John F. Kennedy were that he would be too beholden to the Vatican on issues. I don't think anyone can accuse me of that." The President chuckled, as did the students in the room. "The Catholic Church and I have some differences on certain issues but we hold strong to the common facets of our faith. We both believe in Jesus Christ. We both believe that, being as no human is perfect, we'll sin from time to time but we also believe in forgiveness and absolution for those sins. We believe in helping the disenfranchised and both of us take very strong opposition to the Death Penalty. Few Catholics agree with the Church on everything, there are some in the clergy who don't even do that and I would submit that anyone attacking me for my faith is really just insecure in their own." The President saw nods of approval among the students in the crowd.
"My question is for Mr. Galindez." A young black man stood up at the back and waited for the microphone to make its way to him. "Your tenure of four years in your job bests your predecessors by a year and a half and many commentators put your power somewhere between that of Leon Panetta and James Baker when compared to previous Chiefs of Staff. How do you see your job?"
The President chuckled. "You're certainly popular tonight."
"Yeah, who knew?" Gunny replied with a smirk. "I don't know, I mean, I serve at the pleasure of the President, so I really only have as much or as little power as he gives me. Being friends with the boss gives me influence on the Hill with legislators but it's not like I run the show out of my office, I just make sure that no one sets the White House on fire. He's the guy who directs the show."
"My question is for both of you." A young blonde co-ed stood up across the room. "Who are your favourite musical artists?"
"Oh, I don't know if you guys will like that, we're a couple of old guys." Gunny answered into the microphone. "I don't know, I like Bob Dylan, The Who and Lynard Skynard."
"Sometimes I think I might have a soul twenty years older then I actually am." The Preside joked. "Nah, I'm a fan of Bruce Springsteen, the Eagles and John Mellencamp but the First Lady's tastes have been rubbing off on me lately so, I've been listening to some Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra."The President was smiling subtly.
"Man, you guys are old!" One of the students commented.
"See, he gets it!" Gunny added.
"Do you guys ever listen to music at work?" One student asked.
"Well, I don't think that the President or I are ever able to actually get that kind of time while at work." Gunny chuckled. "I did walk in on the speechwriting staff listening to Counting Crows once, though."
"What's the hardest part of your jobs?" One girl at the front asked.
"The hardest part of our jobs?" The President repeated. "That's a tough one. I guess it would be how little time I get to spend with my kids. It was such a joy for me to finally be able to sit down and watch my kids play hockey last month, you have no idea. That's part of the reason I like campaigning during the summer is that the kids come on the bus and I get to spend some time with them."
"Well, for me I think the hardest part of the job is the fact that fourteen hour days leave almost no time for a personal life." Gunny chuckled. "In three and a half years I've only had three dates, Hand to God." He raised his right hand. "That personal time is so precious because you can use it to clear you head and I think it helps me become better at my job."
"I'll remember to order you to take a vacation if we win this thing." The President looked over at Gunny.
"Well, we'll be on a permanent vacation if we lose." Gunny replied. In the wings, Stacy was grinning from ear to ear. These two were just too good at what they did, they had the kids in the audience eating out of the palm of their hands, these kids were in awe but they were identifying, it was the weirdest juxtaposition she had ever seen.
"Now, enough with the questions. Who wants to shoot a game of pool?" The President asked and all the kids clamoured out of their seats toward the pool table.
0304 ZULU
RABB RESIDENCE
ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
"The kids are lucky that they can have the friends that they have now for a long time." Harm was resting against the headboard. "I mean with modern communications it's easy to keep in touch with people even if they're a world away."
"Sometimes I think your mind is a world away." Mac chuckled as she climbed into the bed. "What's got you all philosophical today?"
"Jen's pregnant." Harm stated.
"I know, she has our phone number, remember?" Mac elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "That can't be all that's bothering you."
"No, I'm serious. I was just thinking, could you imagine growing up with a group of people? Having the same friends at forty that you had at five? I think that's the one good thing modern technology has done for kids." Harm looked at his wife. "Can you imagine if we knew our current group of friends in High School?"
"No." Mac shook her head.
"Why not?" Harm put a hand on her back.
"Well, first, because Bax and Keeter act like they're still in High School. Second, if you and Nate went to the same school, the two of you would drive everyone insane!" Mac protested.
"Why?" Harm seemed slightly taken aback.
"Because you two would compete over everything." Mac turned to face her husband. "I can see it now. Take everyone we hang out with now and make them seventeen. We all hang out but you and Nate compete to be the Alpha Male in the group. You're the Captain of the Football Team, he's the Class President. God help any woman that the two of you set your gaze on at the same time. No, Harm, if you and Nate went to the same High School with the rest of us, you both would be bludgeoned to death by Christmas."
"Kill-joy." Harm sounded moderately hurt. He was faking and he thought she knew that.
"Oh, c'mere you big baby." She grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. "Now, go to sleep!"
