Force Base. From there, they would each be loaded onto a C-141B Starlifter for the flight back to their home states. President Stevens was now taking the time to offer each family member his condolences as they stood to leave.
The crowd was starting to filter out into the hallway, and Olson turned to O’Rourke.
“Michael, I need to talk to the President for a minute. Would you like to meet him?”
O’Rourke looked down at his friend and then across the room at the President. “No, I’ll wait here.” Olson looked at the young O’Rourke, as he’d done many times before, and asked himself why Michael had decided to get into politics. “Have you ever met him before?”
“No.”
“Well, then come on.” Olson stepped away and waved his hand toward the President.
“I have no desire to meet him. I’ll wait for you in the hallway.” Olson knew by the look in the stubborn O’Rourke’s eyes that it was worthless to ask a third time. The Senator nodded his head and turned to make his way toward the President.
IT WAS DARK OUT WHEN O’ROURKE PARKED HIS DARK GREEN CHEVY
Tahoe in front of Scarlatti’s apartment building. He was thirty minutes late. Looking forward to spending some time with her, he’ bounded up the steps. He could always put everything else out of his mind and relax when he was with Liz.
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O’Rourke knocked on the door, and a moment later it opened. Instead of greeting him with the usual kiss, Scarlatti turned and walked back into the apartment. O’Rourke picked up on the angry signal and tried to figure out what he might have done to upset her. He was almost always late, so it couldn’t be that. He followed her down the hallway and into the kitchen. “Liz, are you all right?” Scarlatti did not respond. She stirred the pot of noodles boiling on the stove. Michael grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around. O’Rourke saw the tears in her eyes and tried to put his arms around her, but she backed away. “What’s wrong?”
“You have no idea, do you?” Scarlatti asked with a voice that was far from steady.
O’Rourke looked at her and shook his head. “I can’t believe you don’t know.” She started to shake her head back and forth, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Michael.
You’re a Congressman, and if you haven’t noticed lately, there’s a group of people that are going around killing politicians and you happen to know who they are.” She shook her head at him and took a deep breath.
“Well, despite knowing there are people out there who would like to kill you, you decide to walk right down the center of Pennsylvania Avenue in front of thousands of people. Not only did you do that, but you didn’t even have the courtesy to call and tell me.” Liz paused again and stared at O’Rourke. O’Rourke looked down at her big, brown eyes and thought to himself, God, I don’t need this right now. The only thing that kept him from verbalizing it was that he knew she was right. “I was sitting in the newsroom, and someone ran up to my desk and told me you were on TV.
The next thing I knew, the commentator is saying that no one else would walk in the procession because the FBI thought it was too dangerous. I sat there for twenty minutes of hell.” Scarlatti stared at him as she tried to stop crying. O’Rourke went to step forward, but she put out her hand. “No, I’m not finished yet. I sat there praying that nothing would happen to you. Pictures of Basset getting his head blown off kept flashing across my mind. All I could think of was that I wasgoing to lose you.” She broke down and began to sob into her hands.
O’Rourke stepped forward and tried to wrap his arms around her. She pushed him away and walked to the other side of the kitchen, trying to gain some composure.
“Michael, you have no idea how much I love you.”
She looked up at the ceiling and paused. “Just last night you told me you never wanted to lose me. Well, how in the hell do you think I feel? Do you think I want to lose you? Did it ever occur to you to pick up the phone and let me know what was going on?
Did you ever stop and think about me today … about how I was feeling, wondering if someone was going to shoot you? How would you feel if it was me? How would you feel if I died? That would be it, Michael. Our future together would be gone and none of our dreams would be realized. We would never have the chance to have children and raise them, nothing.
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Damn it, Michael, this is my life, too!” O’Rourke moved across the room and grabbed her. She tried to move away again, but he held on and pulled her into his chest. He whispered into her ear, “Honey, I’m sorry. I should have called, but I was never in danger.”
“How can you say you were never in danger. It’s been open season on politicians for the last week. They could have easily-“
Michael put his finger over her lips. “I know who they are, Liz … they would never do anything to harm me.”
The sun had risen again, and down in the subbasement of the White House a Secret
Service agent opened an obscure door for Stu Garret. The President’s chief of staff walked in and sat down next to another Secret Service agent. Garret grabbed a pair of headphones and put them on as he looked up at the bank of monitors.
President Stevens was standing in front of the fireplace in the Oval Office waiting for his breakfast appointment. A moment later, the door opened and Senator Olson entered the room. The President walked over and shook his guest’s hand. “Good morning, Erik.”
Garret could hear them talk as if he were standing right next to the two men. President
Stevens led Olson over to a small table that had been set for breakfast, and the two men sat down. A steward entered the room and started to serve the meal. Senator Olson received a bowl of oatmeal with a side of brown sugar and a halved grapefruit, while the
President received his usual bowl of Post Toasties with skim milk and a cup of fruit. The steward poured both
