He chuckles. “There you go, being a responsible—”
His work cell rings on the nightstand, making us both freeze before I lean over and grab it, answering it with a wide-awake and all-business tone.
“Vice President Woodley’s phone.”
It’s a woman. “I’m calling from the Watch Team. They need to speak to the vice president.”
“Just a moment.” I wait about five seconds before I pass Elliot the phone, my brain quickly upshifting into work mode at warp speed. “Watch Team,” I whisper.
Grabbing my work phone, I step away and run downstairs to make him coffee and toss some of my pre-made quiches into the microwave for me and Elliot. While that’s cooking, I call the detail to let them know we’ll be moving shortly and way ahead of schedule, as well as call Suzanne to let her know we’re on the way in and to put staff on alert it might be a news-intensive day for us.
With Elliot’s status as a decorated combat veteran, his office invariably receives a lot of media requests when something happens regarding the armed forces. Or he’s asked to help craft the message that goes out, and brief the press secretary.
That the Watch Team needs him tells me this is likely military in nature.
I also go ahead and prep our travel mugs of coffee and leave them sitting on the table in the foyer so we can grab them on the way out. We’re going to be moving fast, I can tell.
I wolf down a couple of the little quiches and head upstairs, where I find Elliot off the phone and vertical, almost in the bathroom.
“How bad?” I ask.
He looks and sounds horrible. “Bad. I’m going to need you in the SitRoom with me this morning.”
Fuck. Obviously, I’ll do it. I just don’t like doing it. Usually when he’s had me in there with him, it’s to run back to the office to get something for him, or ask questions of West Wing staff, things like that. Because cell phones are locked up when you go inside, and I can’t keep every phone number in my head so that I can use a secure landline that’s in the SitRoom.
I can already tell my presence there today is not for any of those reasons.
He needs me in there with him because he’s going to needme.
“All right. Eat this first.” I put the small bowl holding three of the breakfast quiches in his hands. He wolfs them down while I dart around him into the bathroom and start the shower so we can get in and out quickly. No fun teasing or playful banter this morning. I can tell whatever this is has Elliot shook, and I don’t need to distract him.
We’re almost finished in the shower when he speaks. “It’s…bad.” His gaze finally meets mine. “Needless to say, this is classified, for now.”
“Yes, sir.”
I can’t help it—it’s my work default. We both know I mean it with a lower-cases.
“Middle East. Terrorist cell abducted two German journalists and an American journalist from a market. Two women and a man. One’s already confirmed dead.”
My gut tightens. “What are their demands?”
He slowly shakes his head, and I realize what he means. “There’s…” He sucks in a ragged breath. “There’s a video. For one of them.Bad.”
Oh, fuck.I don’t want to know any more, but this is the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders, and I can’t let him down.
We’re ready to go ten minutes later. I follow him outside, setting the alarm and locking the door after me.
He’s wearing glasses this morning, but I scooped up his contacts in case he wants them later. We’re almost to the White House when I once again remember what today is—Leo’s return.
Well, I wanted something to distract me today.
Be careful what you wish for.
