her as she stepped into what must be a very large space. Underground? What was this place? But she had no more time to consider it as Agent Tilman tugged her forward. She stumbled again as he led her into some sort of enclosed space. And then he guided her down into what felt like a hard plastic chair. It lurched. A vehicle of some kind!
They rode smoothly forward for several minutes, swaying occasionally as the conveyance rounded corners. And then it hitched to a stop.
“Let’s go,” Tilman announced.
She stood up, disoriented in the dark until he took her by the elbow and led her forward. Out the door, and into another enclosed space this time. A door opened and they stepped through it, and then her ears popped as some sort of pressure seal closed behind her. Where in the world were they now? She walked down what felt like a short hallway, and into another room. And then, without warning, the blindfold was lifted away from her face. She blinked, squinting into the bright, artificial light.
And Gabe smiled down at her. “Welcome to the bunker, Diana.”
Her impulse was to step forward and fling her arms around Gabe’s neck, but she dared not. For one thing, his security detail would tackle her. Plus, he was nearly the President of the United States.
Instead, she merely sighed, “Thank God you’re safe.”
He murmured back, “Thank God you’re safe.”
How long they stood there, staring at each other, she had no idea. It was an eternity, but not nearly long enough. Finally, reluctantly, he looked away. “Owen needs to talk to you. I’ve still got to be inaugurated, and he needs to know everything you can tell him about any threats I might face when that happens.”
She nodded gamely. Gabe led her into a small adjoining lounge sporting a couple of sofas, a television and- hallelujah-a coffeepot. She helped herself to a mug of its contents and sipped at the industrial-strength brew, reveling in the caffeine jolt that flowed through her veins.
Agent Haas motioned her onto the far end of the leather couch he sat on. She perched on it gingerly while Gabe sat across from her on the arm of the matching sofa, his golden eyes burning with intense intelligence. Man, he was gorgeous. Not only was he a hunk, but he was a brilliant one. A killer combination. She dragged her mind back to business as Owen asked her to start at the beginning.
The Secret Service agent interrupted with occasional questions. At the end of it, Owen sat back and stared at her for several seconds. “And you tracked down all this information about the Q-group by yourself?”
She frowned. “Mostly. I had help from some computer hackers who’ve probably earned a clean-up of their police records.”
He leaned forward abruptly. “Good work. I’m going to go fax those pictures you sent me to the FBI and the police. We’ll get APBs out on these guys and have them in custody in no time.”
Gabe spoke up. “Maybe we should send those pictures to the media, too.”
Owen nodded. “The FBI can take care of that. They love a good, media-blitzing manhunt. If all goes well, we’ll have these jerks in custody before you have to leave for your inauguration.”
She looked up at Gabe in consternation. “You’re not showing yourself again in public, are you?”
He shrugged. “I have to go out sometime. I can’t serve my entire presidency here in this bunker. May as well start this job the way I plan to continue doing it. And I don’t plan to hide for the next four years.”
“Gabe. These guys tried to kill you today!”
“Yes, and you stopped them. You’ve already apprehended one of them. We’ll get the rest of them soon enough. And then I’ll be perfectly safe.”
She frowned. And looked over at Owen Haas. “There’s more.”
The agent’s brows slammed together. “Like what?”
“My research indicates that the Q-group is being used as a front for someone else. Someone who’s pulling their strings. I’m not convinced that Gabe will be safe, even if you nail every Q-group guy my hacker buddies and I tracked down on the Internet this morning.”
If possible, Owen frowned even harder. He uttered a single, short word. “Who?”
If only she knew. But so much had happened to her so fast that she was having trouble processing it all. Her gut said there were connections she was missing. Hints and tidbits were right in front of her, and she wasn’t putting them together. She’d hoped Owen might see something she’d missed. But he looked as frustrated as she felt.
She sighed. “I don’t know who could be pulling their strings. Obviously, there’s a connection to Richard Dunst. A third party broke him out of jail. That says to me he’s working for the same person or persons who are controlling the Q-group. Dunst is a flunkie.”
Owen nodded his agreement at her analysis.
The three of them stared at each other in silence.
“Have either of you eaten since this morning?” Gabe asked suddenly.
Owen and Diana both blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “No,” Diana answered aloud while Haas shook his head in the negative.
Gabe stood up. “Let’s grab a bite to eat. I think better when my stomach’s not gnawing a hole in my gut. Besides, I’ve always wondered what nuclear bunker food would taste like. How about you?”
Diana grimaced. “Are you kidding? I’m in the Army. I know exactly what thirty-year-old C rations taste like. Not to mention what they do to your gut.”
Gabe laughed and held out his hand. “Come have lunch with me. I’ll bet one of the White House chefs is hiding down here, somewhere.”
She stood up, grinning. “I sincerely hope so.”
Lunch turned out to consist of poached salmon, tossed salad and fresh snap peas-just where a person got those at this time of year in a bunker far below Washington, D.C., she had no idea. It was a far cry from C rations, but then the company was a far cry from an infantry battalion, too.
As good as the food was, her appetite was off. She was missing something important. She could feel it. And if she didn’t figure out what it was in the next couple of hours, Gabe would still be in danger.
“Are you sure you want to be President?” she asked him skeptically.
He shrugged. “It’s not like I have any choice at this point.” He paused, then added, “And even if I did, I’d still want the job.”
“Why?” she asked curiously.
“Because I can do some good in the next four years. Maybe I can make my country and my world a little better place. And that’s a worthy thing to do with a lifetime.”
So. Beneath all that charm and social polish lurked a reformer. A doer. Like her. The discovery was comforting not only because it was a good trait for a President to have, but because it also meant that, at their cores, they were like-minded people.
Gabe surprised her by asking, “If you had a chance to run for President, would you do it?”
She flinched. “My family’s got some pretty ugly skeletons in the closet. I don’t think they’d hold up to public scrutiny very well.”
He snorted. “Like my family’s skeletons aren’t a nightmare? If you’ve got enough character, you can overcome all that stuff.”
She leaned forward. “Is that how you did it? How you got past all the garbage in your background? You compensated by displaying extraordinary amounts of character?”
The question gave him pause. “Can’t say as I’ve ever thought of it in those terms,” he finally replied. “But I guess that’s what it boils down to. If I do my best to do the right thing all the time, I believe the public will see it and respect me for who I am rather than judging me by my family and its past indiscretions.”
He could say that. He only had a gambling, alcoholic father who’d had the good grace to die in his past. She was stuck with a military scandal that had disgraced her mother and even sent her into an asylum. Even though Josie had cleared their mother’s name last year with her own stealth technology research, the stain lingered.
She replied, “At any rate, I think you’ll make an excellent President. The American people chose well.”
“Thank you,” he said simply. “For the record, if you ran, I’d vote for you.”
She started. “I’d be a lousy President! I’m too much of a rebel to deal with the Washington establishment peaceably for four years. And don’t get me started about world leaders and their antics.”
Gabe laughed. “Yes, but you’d step up to the plate and do what you had to in a crisis. Today is a good case in point.”
