Vince Flynn: Separation of Power

Rielly stood and went over to him, kissing him on the cheek. "Whatever you decide to do, honey, I will support you. If you want to stay at home and raise the kids I would think that's just great."

Rapp set his mug down and held up his hands, forming a "T" like a basketball referee. "Technical foul. No overt discussion of marriage, weddings or children until you have a ring on your finger."

Rielly scoffed at him. "That's your stupid rule, not mine. You know we're going to get married, and I know we're going to get married." She pinched his waist and with a playful smile said, "So let's get the show on the road."

Rapp grabbed her by the shoulders. "I've been just a little busy lately." He glanced over at a spot on the other side of the kitchen where just two weeks earlier he'd shot and killed a man. "I'd like to get some things straightened out before we take the big step."

Rielly waved off his caution saying, "Yeah ... yeah, there's always something." She turned to leave."I have to get to the White House. I'll call you later."

Rapp followed her to the front door. "You're not mad, are you?" "No," Rielly said in a light voice. "I really do have to get to work, and you," she grabbed him by the chin, "have to get ready for your meeting." He rolled his eyes, and she kissed him on the lips. "It won't be that bad. Try to go into it with an open mind. Now I really have to get going. Call me and let me know how it goes."

"Unless you have access to the President's secure phone I think we'll have to wait until tonight to discuss my job offer."

"Oh, that's right. I always forget how paranoid you people are." Rielly opened the door.

"Hey, what do I always tell you? Just because you're paranoid--"

Rielly was halfway across the porch. Without turning around she yelled, "I know ... I know .. just because you're paranoid doesn't mean someone isn't following you."

Rapp smiled as he watched Anna open her car door. Shirley followed her and did a quick lap around the car. "I love you," he yelled.

Rielly stopped, and with a genuine smile, she looked at Mitch in his white boxer briefs and said. "I love you, too. Now get back in the house and put some clothes on before the neighbors see you."

The White House, Monday morning

The sun shone brightly through the colonnade windows of the West Wing's Cabinet Room. The gray morning skies had cleared a bit. It was a classic Washington photo op. The President's handlers had set it up, and the commander in chief had gone along without endorsement or complaint. It was a part of the job and he had learned to tolerate it. The cameras were like a bad back; they were always around and there wasn't much you could do about them. President Robert Xavier Hayes was seated in his leather chair at the middle of the long table, his back to the windows. His chair was taller than all the others, just in case anyone forgot who the most important person in the room was.

On the President's right was Senator Moeller, a Democrat and the ranking minority member of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. To his right was chairman of the Joint Chiefs General Flood. On the President's left were Senator Clark, the chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence and the President's national security advisor, Michael Haik. Aides and staffers filled the remaining seats. Photos were snapped almost continually by two photographers from the White House press pool while a cameraman from one of the networks shot video of the meeting. Two reporters waited dutifully for the signal from the White House press secretary to give them the nod to start asking questions. They had been briefed on the purpose of the meeting and were told what would be permitted and what was out of bounds.

President Hayes, a moderate Democrat from Columbus, Ohio, knew both men on either side of him well, from his years in the Senate. He conversed freely with them and even cracked a few jokes while the cameras snapped away. It was what was called in Washington a staged love-test: the two parties coming together, putting aside their differences and doing the right thing. President Hayes was handsome in a clean-cut way. A shade over six feet, he had thin brown hair that was turning grayer by the month. Hayes stayed thin by putting in thirty minutes on his treadmill or bike four or five days a week. He almost always worked out first thing in the morning, knowing it was usually the only time when someone wasn't trying to get a piece of him.

Hayes checked his watch and then nodded to the press secretary, signaling that it was time to start the questions.

Because space was often limited, it was not possible for the entire White House press corps to attend every event. Instead, there was a pool out of which reporters and photographers would take turns covering events, and then share the material they collected. It was Anna Rielly's lucky morning to unearth the obvious. The White House correspondent for NEC hit the record button on her Dictaphone and smiled at Hayes.

"Good Morning, Mr. President. Will there be a memorial service here in Washington to honor Director Stansfield?"

"No. Director Stansfield was adamant before he died that he wanted a simple private burial in South Dakota. The CIA is planning on erecting some type of monument to his service out at Langley, and I'm looking into placing a permanent marker at Arlington honoring his service during World War Two."

"Have you come to any decisions on who will succeed him at the CIA?"

"As a matter of fact we have." Hayes looked to both of his former colleagues. "We have stumbled across one of those increasingly rare moments of mutual agreement." Hayes laughed and the others joined in. "With very little difficulty we have decided on the one person who is best suited to take over as the new director of Central Intelligence." The President looked to his left and said, "Hank, why don't you do the honors." Rielly was slightly surprised. This truly was a unified front to have a Republican senator announce the nominee of a Democratic President.

Rielly turned her green eyes on the well-liked senator from Arizona and asked, "Senator Clark?"

"The truth is, we didn't have to look very hard, or very far, to find the best man for the job." Clark winked at Rielly over his intentional disregard for the politics of political correctness. "The best man for the job is a woman who is currently running the CIA's Counterterrorism Center. Dr. Irene Kennedy is our hands-down choice to be the next Dd."

The five men smiled and nodded at each other while flashes from the cameras lit up the room. Not to be left out of the spotlight, Senator Moeller cleared his throat and said, "This is truly a historical moment. Dr. Kennedy will be the first woman to head the CIA, and for that matter the first woman to head up any of the agencies that make up our intelligence community."

Rielly was busy writing something on her notepad and without looking up she said, "That is of course, if she's confirmed by the Senate." "That goes without saying," Clark said. "But Senator Moeller and I can tell you that she will have no problem making it through our committee."

"Assuming there are no surprises."

Clark stared at Rielly. She really was a beautiful woman, with a brain and a little spunk to boot. He wondered briefly if she knew the type of person her boyfriend was. The number of people he had killed. "There are no guarantees in this town, Ms. Rielly, but assuming there are no surprises, I am very confident that Dr. Kennedy will sail through the confirmation process."

Rielly directed her gaze at the President. "Was Dr. Kennedy your first choice, Mr. President?"

Without hesitation Hayes replied, "Yes."

"Was Dr. Kennedy Director Stansfield's choice to succeed him?"