Espinosa nodded sagely. “Hey, you want me to take a picture of that horse, the one that can’t do rights and lefts?”

“Yeah. Frame it and give it to me for Christmas.” Bert guffawed.

“The White House is coming up!” Jack shouted. “Right turn, Ted! Whoa. I said right turn. Oh, shit, Delilah is leading. Right turn, Ted!”

“I’m trying!” Ted yelled. “Okay, got it. Attagirl, Delilah!”

Delilah, hearing her favorite words, picked up her feet and galloped down the driveway, past the cordon of Secret Service agents, her partners joining in the jaunt and the sleigh careening to the right, then the left, the sleigh bells jangling at full throttle.

The agents, guns drawn, assumed a firing position until Bert bellowed, “Stand down, gentlemen! I SAID, stand down!” In the stillness the only sound to be heard was that of the hammers being drawn back.

“Do what the director is telling you, Agent Paterno. STAND down! If you don’t, I’ll shoot you myself. Do you understand?” Martine Connor said loud enough to be heard a block away.

“Go away, Agent Paterno, get out of my sight. And take your men with you. I don’t want to see your face the rest of the afternoon. If I do, you’ll be patrolling the Tidal Basin.

“Welcome to the White House, gentlemen. Thank you so much for all your help today. I want to personally apologize to all of you. We simply could not cancel the party and disappoint the children. Follow me, please, so we can get the festivities under way.”

Bert Navarro hung back, the last in line. He looked over at Paterno and gave him his middle finger. “Hey, Mister Secret Service Man, never be impressed with yourself, because there’s always someone out there ready to cut you down to size. Today it’s me. Lucky you!”

Whatever Paterno was about to say, he changed his mind, a murderous look on his face.

“Espinosa, tell me you got a picture of that!” Bert shouted.

“In living color, like all the others,” Espinosa assured him.

Bert laughed.

Ninety minutes later, the party nearing its end, the president walked around the huge room, admiring the mountain of torn gift wrap and the happy smiles on the faces of the children, their presents under their arms as their parents herded them together for a group shot, which would make the evening news around the world.

Connor knew there was something off-kilter about the whole afternoon, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on exactly what it was. She discounted the confrontational meeting earlier between the head of her Secret Service detail and the director of the FBI. No, it was something else. She moved off to the side to stand next to her secretary, who was beaming happily.