“What brings you to this neck of the woods?” Pearce asked.
“You, amigo.” Early smiled.
“Well, here I am.” Pearce took a sip of tea. “That about do it for you?”
“We need your services.”
“Who is ‘we’?” Pearce asked.
“‘We’ is me and the number one boss lady.”
“Seems to me the boss lady has a lot of employees to carry her water. You don’t need me.”
“For this job, we do. No one else can hack it.” Early turned serious.
“Off the books, I take it.”
“Yup.”
Pearce thought about it for a moment. Took another sip of tea. “No, thanks.”
Early frowned. “It’s damn good money. I thought you were in business.”
“I am. Doesn’t mean I take every job. Don’t have to. That’s why they call it ‘free’ enterprise.”
“It’s for a good cause, Troy. You remember those, don’t you?”
“I used to believe in Santy Claus, too. Good causes get people killed, just like the bad ones.” Pearce leaned in a little closer. “You remember that, don’t you?”
Early’s foul mood turned even darker. He did remember. It’s why he’d left the service a few years after Troy did.
“Yeah. But this time it’s different,” Early said.
“That’s what they always say, until it’s not.”
“No, seriously. Myers is different.” Early meant it. “You know Kate’s loaded. I could be reef diving in Fiji right now if I wanted.”
Pearce smiled. “You were always such a Boy Scout, Mikey. You think this president is different because she’s in the other party? Don’t be naive.”
“No, I’m not talking about that. She’s in there for the right reasons, doing the right things. Or at least trying to.”
“Really? Then why hire me? Sounds like she’s trying to cover her ass on something.”
“No. She’s straight up. Trust me.”
The waitress sauntered back over with Early’s plate and a cup of coffee. She set them down on the table. “Chicken empanada and sides.”
“Looks good,” Early said.
“Is good,” she insisted.
“What kind of joe did you bring me?”
“Tanzanian peaberry.” She turned to Pearce. Her face softened. “More tea?”
“In a while. Thanks.”
“I’ll check back in a few.” She drifted to another table.
Early watched her for a moment. Caught her stealing a glance back at Pearce. Early stuck his fork into the empanada. “She’s sweet on you.”
Pearce shrugged. “She had a little boyfriend trouble a while back. I made it go away. That’s all.”
“And you call me a Boy Scout.” Early shook his head with a smile as he took another bite.
“You know how you can tell when a politician is lying?” Pearce asked. “When their lips are moving.”
“Man, this is really good.” Empanada churned in his mouth like tube socks in a laundromat dryer. “You want some?”
“No, but thanks.”
Early took a sip of coffee. Examined the cup. “This is unbelievable. Maybe she’s sweet on me, too.”
“She probably heard you were a good tipper.”
Early pulled a cell phone out of his shirt pocket and set it in front of Pearce.
“I’ve already got a phone. But thanks.”
“Not with that number on it. Pick it up and call her.”
“Who?”
“Who do you think?”
Pearce frowned. “She’s on East Coast time, you know.”
“She’s at work. Call her. Tell her she’s a liar and I’ll go away. We never met. I won’t bother you again, and neither will she.” Early stabbed his fork into a chunk of roasted rosemary potato glistening with olive oil.
Pearce picked up the phone. Leaned back in the booth. Thought about it for a few seconds, then punched the call button. It rang twice.
“Hello, Mr. Pearce,” Myers answered.
Pearce shot a curious glance at Early.
Early grinned.
“Mike asked me to call you,” Pearce said.
“That means you turned down his offer. I’m sorry to hear that. He’s a big fan of yours.”
“Mikey’s always been a cheerleader for lost causes. Including yours, I’m afraid.”
“He told you about the situation?”
“I turned him down before we got that far.”
“I actually prefer doing business face-to-face. If it’s at all possible, I’d like to meet with you later today and put all of my cards on the table. You can fly back with Mike.”
“It’s going to be a very short meeting, ma’am, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“If you can spare the time, I’d be grateful.” Myers clicked off.
Pearce stared at the phone in his hand for a long time. Old habits die hard.
“She’s a pistol, ain’t she?” Early smiled.
Pearce slid out of the booth as Early took another bite of food.
“What’s the verdict, chief?” Early asked.
Pearce grabbed his ranch coat and stood up.
“I’ve got a boat needs refinishing this afternoon. So if we’re going to do this, let’s go.”
Pearce pulled on his coat.
Early dropped his fork and leaped up.
“Give me your wallet,” Pearce demanded.
“What for?”
Pearce motioned impatiently with his hand.
Early handed Pearce his wallet. Pearce fished out a hundred-dollar bill and tossed it on the table.
“What are you doing?” Early asked.
“She’s got a kid. And you were never a good tipper.”
Pearce tossed Early’s wallet back at him, turned, and marched toward the door.
The White House, Washington, D.C.
It was just after seven in the morning when Early and Pearce arrived at the private VIP entrance to the West Wing.
Early and Pearce checked their weapons with the duty officer behind the security desk, a striking Haitian- American woman with luminous green eyes.
Early placed the palm of his right hand on the security scanner.
“What? No smile today?” Early asked.
“Sorry, Mr. Early. Everybody’s jittery. Someone called in another bomb threat an hour ago. That’s the third this week.”
“Just another crank. Won’t amount to anything,” Early assured her.
“Hope you’re right.”
A few moments later, Early’s personnel page pulled up on the security monitor. It included his latest headshot, a short bio, his job title and security status. The guard nodded him through to the unmarked door behind her.
