Iris Johansen - Dead Aim

But Betworth could have beaten him. He knew how to finesse and charm as well as Andreas. It was only that invisible aura of power that surrounded any president that made Andreas seem like Superman to the people around him.

However, Betworth had never been able to insinuate himself into the tight-knit group that surrounded Andreas. The bastard had always kept him at a distance, and it had become obvious to the power brokers on the Washington scene. Oh, well, he'd jumped over that hurdle.

"He's one gutsy guy, isn't he?"

He glanced over his shoulder to see Hank Ellswyth, the

Senate Majority Leader, staring admiringly at Andreas. "You'd think with all the threats swirling around him that he'd cancel this kind of soiree." Ellswyth lifted his cocktail in a half salute. "Better him than me." "Not much danger here in the White House with all this security." Betworth smiled. "But maybe you're right. Discretion is the better part of valor." "I didn't say he was making a mistake," Ellswyth said quickly. "We can't let those terrorists scare us." "You'd never do that," Betworth said. "Everyone knows what you stand for, Hank. We all rely on you. Andreas most of alL"

Andreas was pausing beside a distinguished older man with a mane of white hair and aristocratic features. A moment later the two strolled out onto the terrace.

"I wonder what he's up to with Shepard," Ellswyth mur mured. "They usually don't have much to say to each other."

"No telling." Betworth shrugged. "Maybe he's trying to show everybody he and the Vice President are a united front." "Well, Shepard's been right in the forefront lately. That speech at Arapahoe Junction was awesome. I didn't know he had it in him. His approval rating shot sky-high."

"Well, we all have to answer the call in days like these." "I'm wondering what call the President is asking him to answer now," Ellswyth murmured. "Who knows? He can be a bit secretive. Not like you,

Hank. We all appreciate your openness." Ellswyth smiled. "I'm just a simple guy from Missouri try ing to do my job." Bullshit. There was nothing simple about Ellswyth. He was scheming and tap-dancing his heart out trying to position himself for the next presidential nomination. Betworth had no quarrel with that. Ambitious men were easier to manipulate than idealists. You promised them the world and they'd follow you anywhere.

"I think I'll go and pay my respects to the First Lady," Ellswyth said as he put his drink on the tray of a passing waiter. "I haven't had a chance to talk to her this evening."

And Chelsea Andreas was standing near the French doors through which Andreas and Shepard had vanished, Betworth thought with amusement. Ellswyth was practically salivating to know what was going on between them.

So was Betworth. But he'd never make the mistake of calling attention to that curiosity. He'd find out eventually. Patience. In all things, patience.

"I have a favor to ask, Shepard." Andreas gazed out over the garden. "One that means a lot to me."

"You know that I'll do whatever I can, Mr. President." Carl Shepard smiled. "I'm honored. It's the first time in all these years you've personally asked anything of me. I was beginning to think you regretted choosing me as your running mate."

He hadn't chosen him, Andreas thought ruefully. The party had given him a choice of two candidates who could carry California, and he was the less objectionable. Shepard was too much the elder statesman for his taste. The country was in a climate of change, and its leaders had to be ready to change with it. Yet he might have been too hard on the man. Shepard had been doing everything he could to meet the challengetraveling, making speeches, visiting the bereaved families of those diplomats killed at the embassies. "We haven't been together in the White House for more than a few days every month. We've been forced to go our separate ways."

Shepard chuckled. "Some of the reporters who cover the White House have started to call me the mystery man." His smile faded. "I don't mind. If it helps the country to have me away from Washington, that's where I need to be. I realize politics or your personal preferences don't enter into it."

"No, they don't." He turned to face Shepard. "But it's a personal favor I'm asking you. I want you to help get my wife away from the White House."

Shepard's gaze flew to Chelsea, who was chatting with Ellswyth inside. "That's not going to be easy. We hardly know each other."

"Your wife is chairperson of the National Foundation for Abused Children. It's one of Chelsea's passions. She's been associated with the organization for years. Ask her to speak at a conference or visit the facilities around the country. I don't care what you do." His voice roughened with suppressed violence. "Just get her away from me."

Shepard was silent a moment. "It's the threats from the terrorists who are responsible for the embassy bombings?" "What do you think? Three embassies gone and they haven't been able to find more than a few leads. It's not like the usual hits. They're smart and they must have a hell of a lot of money and contacts. I can't be sure they're not moving closer."

"Keller's been doing a great job keeping you safe."

"Yes, but a dose of cyanide still managed to get as far as my kitchen, and before that an explosive device was discovered on the grounds outside my quarters."

"Discovered is the key word. And that was some time ago. I'm sure Keller's plugged every hole."

"So am I. I didn't bring you out here to ask for reassurance." His lips tightened. "It's okay that every threat is directed at me. I never expected anything else. It's in the job description. It's not okay that Chelsea may be targeted because she's standing beside me." He paused, his gaze on Chelsea as he added softly, "And she's always beside me. In every way."

"I'll do my best. I'll talk to Nancy tonight. How soon?" "Yesterday. Today. As quick as you can. I've sent the chil dren away to their stepsister in San Diego. It's only Chelsea who won't leave me." He clapped Shepard on the shoulder. "I appreciate this. I owe you."

"It's my honor, Mr. President. We all have to pull together in times like this."

Yes, they did, Andreas thought wearily as he opened the French doors. United we stand. But Chelsea mustn't stand united with him now.

He paused in the doorway and glanced around the room. There was no way of slipping in or out of any function, but everyone seemed to be pretending they hadn't noticed he'd been gone.

Except Betworth. He smiled and bowed slightly before going back to his conversation with the Secretary of Labor. Bold as brass and full of personal magnetism.

Andreas coolly nodded his head in acknowledgment at him as he slipped his arm around Chelsea's waist and brushed a kiss on her temple. "Everything okay?"

"Fine." She smiled brightly at Ellswyth. "The Senator was telling me about St. Louis. But I'm sure he's much more interested in what you and Vice President Shepard were discussing." She sipped her orange juice. "Aren't you, Senator?"

Ellswyth blinked. "Not at all. I had no-"

"No? Then I must have been mistaken." She slipped her arm through Andreas's. "I think it's time to circulate and then say our good night to the Prime Minister. You've got that visit to the school for the handicapped early tomorrow morning." She gave Ellswyth a smile that made him forget his momentary embarrassment. "You'll excuse us?" She didn't wait for an answer as she gently nudged Andreas forward. "What the hell are you up to?" she murmured. "You have everyone in the room wondering what you said to Shepard."

"Then they can keep on wondering." "Not me. I'm on the home team."

"Maybe it's top secret."

She searched his expression and then shook her head. "I don't think so."

He should have expected both the curiosity and the perceptiveness. They knew each other so well. They had been friends and partners as well as lovers for many years. "No," he said softly. "Drop it, Chelsea."