Bert Navarro carried three cell phones: his work phone, the special phone from Charles Martin, and his own personal phone. The Charles Martin phone took that moment to ring. The Bureau phone kept vibrating in his pocket. He ignored it as he concentrated on what Charles Martin was saying. “Got it. I’m waiting for my transportation.” He listened again. “I’m outside in the pavilion. Nothing is moving. The city can’t keep up with this storm. I heard a report as I was leaving that this is being billed as the storm of the century, and yet the White House is going ahead with the children’s Christmas party. Have you heard how things are going over there?” Bert listened again, and asked, “What about the babies? The boys have it covered! I’d pay for that visual,” he said, laughing. Bert went on to explain about hanging up on the head of the Secret Service. This time it was Charles who laughed.

“Do you care to tell me what the next step is?” Bert asked as he strained to look up and down the street to see if there was any sign of transportation coming his way. All he could see was a teenager carrying an inner tube, a man carrying a little dog, and two cars that were stuck in a snowbank. Most of the traffic lights appeared to be out. He brought his attention back to Charles and what he was saying. “Now that’s a plan, Charles!” He listened again, then laughed so hard he doubled over. When he slipped the cell back into his other pocket, he was still laughing.

Bert stomped his feet to keep warm, the cell in his pocket vibrating continuously as he waited for the transportation that would take him to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

Back at the Post apartment, Baron Bell was screaming his head off, while Adel Newsom stared off into space, resigned at what was to come. The two surrogates, their eyes red from crying, were still huddled together, praying.

“A little late with the prayers, aren’t you?” Isabelle snapped. “What makes you think God is going to be in a forgiving mood at what you did to your own babies, selling them to the highest bidder? Right now you need to worry about what we’re going to do to you. He’s not doing so good,” she said, jerking her head in Baron Bell’s direction. “It is so not manly to squeal like that.”

The surrogates cried harder.

Isabelle looked away in disgust in time to see Kathryn dip her brush into a second bucket.

“Make sure you get all those nooks and crannies.” Nikki giggled.