A week after his return from Cape Town, White had rented a safety-deposit box at a local bank. Since he didn’t know who he could trust, or what to do with Oxley’s cell phone, he’d left it there, making sure to remove the SIM card. He was going to think long and hard about how to deal with Hammond’s betrayal. For now, Hammond had no idea how much White knew about CONQUEST, or that White had learned the truth about Hammond’s involvement in his father’s murder.
And the fact remained: the underwater graveyard was still there. And it continued to be a threat to Hammond.
White had the feeling that his fiancée was aware of the unspoken problems between White and her father because her attitude toward her dad had changed drastically. When White had tossed out the idea of moving to Washington State three weeks ago, she had jumped on it. She’d even applied for a teaching position at the University of Washington.
They were leaving tonight.
White couldn’t wait to start this new chapter with her. He didn’t know what the future held for them, but he wasn’t going to take Veronica for granted. He was going to be present for her, and responsive to her needs.
And I’ll keep you safe. Even from your dad. I promise.
After the swearing-in ceremony, a couple of young political staffers came to White to ask permission to take a selfie with him. The way he sent them scurrying away earned him an elbow strike in the ribs from Veronica. At the joint congressional inaugural committee luncheon that followed, he couldn’t stop staring at Vice President Hammond, his disgust for the man evident. By betraying Maxwell’s trust, Hammond had committed an unpardonable sin, one White wasn’t about to forgive. Or forget.
In the deepest part of his heart, White had always held out the hope that one day he and his dad would grow closer, that they would somehow find a way to make things right between them.
Which would have pleased Mom very much, he thought.
But Hammond had crushed any hope of that ever happening. A succession of painful memories suddenly flooded in as images of White’s mother’s lifeless body surfaced in his mind. He ground his teeth in anger as he cast his eyes back to Hammond, incapable of wrapping his head around the fact that the man was now the vice president.
It wasn’t right.
“Are you okay, Clay?” Veronica asked him, her concern obvious. “You’re shaking, baby.”
“I’m sorry, Vonnie,” White said, standing up from the round table. In front of him, the small garden salad and the chicken fettuccini remained untouched. “I just need a bit of air. I’ll be right back.”
He kissed Veronica on the head, squeezed her shoulders three times, and walked outside the ballroom.
“Hey, Clayton,” one of the Secret Service agents said.
White nodded at him but kept walking. His phone vibrated in his suit pocket. No caller ID. He took the call anyway. Maybe NASA had changed their mind about the astronaut program?
“This is Clayton,” he said into the phone.
“Look behind you.” White recognized the voice instantly. It was Alexander Hammond.
White did look behind him, but he continued walking. Hammond was fifty steps behind him, followed by a lone Secret Service agent.
“Can we talk?” Hammond asked.
White ended the call and sat on one of the wooden benches set against the wall. Hammond gestured to the Secret Service agent that he needed privacy and that he shouldn’t get any closer. Hammond took a seat next to White.
The two men remained silent for what seemed like an eternity. White didn’t mind. He wasn’t the one who was going to start the conversation.
“All right, Clayton,” Hammond finally said. “How do you want to proceed?”
“About what?”
Hammond sighed. “What the fuck’s wrong with you? You’re still pissed about South Africa?” he asked. “I moved heaven and earth to get you into that chopper. I called in every favor the CIA owed me.”
“You did it because Veronica threatened to destroy you on social media if you didn’t get me back,” White said, not one bit intimidated by Hammond. “You used me.”
“You’re lucky to have her at your side,” Hammond said, his eyes hard and his voice nettled.
White wanted to ask him what would happen if Veronica wasn’t his fiancée. Would Hammond murder him too? Like Maxwell?
He held Hammond’s gaze. “You’re the vice president now. The eyes of the public are going to be on you—a lot more than when you ran JSOC. And those eyes are going to be watching for any misstep you make. And you can bet your ass that my eyes will be among them. And so will your daughter’s.”