“Yeah. Too crazy to be believed.”
“And she didn’t report the contact with a foreigner?”
“No.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Teresa has gone to bring Gretchen in to discuss this.”
“And then what?”
“I’m going to ask her straight out what’s going on with her Russian friend, why she never disclosed the relationship and what the fuck is happening.”
“It’s unbelievable.”
“He’s spent six nights there this month. A fucking Russian, there under an assumed name, shacked up with the vice president at the Naval Observatory.”
“What took the Secret Service so long to report it?”
“He had a legit Slovakian passport and other documents.”
“Wouldn’t facial recognition software spot him coming into the country?”
“That’s not entirely foolproof yet, unfortunately. Only because a new Secret Service agent was assigned to her detail and recognized him from news coverage do we even know who he really is.” Because he couldn’t sit still for another second, Nick stood to pace as he waited for Teresa to return with Gretchen. “This could end me. It was happening right under my nose, Terry, and I had no idea.”
“This should end her, not you. Regardless of her explanation, you have to request her resignation. We need to get her the hell out of our government.”
“Yeah, for sure, but if she’s been in cahoots with the Russians, even the good Russians, I want her arrested, not fired.”
“Should I ask Sally to come over?” Terry asked, referring to FBI Director Monroe.
“Yes, please. I want this done by the book.”
“Understood.” Terry got on his phone. “I texted her and asked her to come over and stand by.”
“I feel like I’m having a stroke or something.”
“Same. Didn’t see this coming.”
Nick laughed at the simple absurdity of the statement. “You know who saw this coming? Sam. She’s had a vibe about Gretchen from the jump.”
“What kind of vibe?”
“A gut feeling that something was off with her, but she couldn’t say what. She told me to watch my back.”
The phone on Nick’s desk rang. He walked over to take the call from his admin, Julie.
“Vice President Henderson and Ms. Howard, Mr. President.”
“Send them in, please. Thank you, Julie.”
“Of course, sir.”
Wearing an electric-blue suit and smiling widely, his vice president came into the Oval Office with Teresa. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. President. I had the Daughters of the American Revolution in for coffee this morning. What an entertaining group they are.” All at once, Gretchen seemed to sense the tension in the room. “What’s wrong?”
“Tell me about Sergei Ivanov,” Nick said.
Gretchen’s smile faded, and her complexion lost all color. “Who?”
