“I’m sorry to hear that, Madam President. Do you want me to resign? Is that what this is all about?”

“No. I am more than capable of working with people I don’t like. I realize this is not a perfect world. I just want you to know where I stand. From this moment forward, you will clear everything, and I mean everything, through me. If you so much as order a roll of toilet paper for the staff bathroom, I want to know about it. Are we clear on this?”

“Yes, Madam President.”

“Good. Now, how are we doing on the presidential pardons for the vigilantes?”

The COS immediately bounced up off his chair and looked down at the president. “We aren’t doing anything on the pardons. We discussed that months ago. If you do that, if you even try, it will be political suicide for you and this administration.”

Connor stood up and towered over Lowry. “That’s what you said. I said to proceed. I admit to a certain laxness where the matter is concerned, but now I want it done. As far as you are concerned, however, it no longer makes a difference, since Lizzie Fox will handle the matter. That will be all, Aaron.”

“But, Madam President—”

“I said that will be all, Aaron.”

After a shocked and dismayed Aaron Lowry left, Martine Connor walked back to the window, minus her coffee cup. The cigarette was still in her hand, however. She stuck it between her lips and dusted her hands together. “I think that went over rather well,” she muttered to the steamy window. She used her index finger to trace the word vigilante on the window. “One pardon coming up, ladies. Just be patient.”

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Kathryn Lucas stared out of the van window at the snowy landscape. She was sitting next to Nikki, who was texting Jack. At least that was who she thought she was texting. In actuality, Nikki was texting the office manager at her old law firm to get the latest update via Lizzie Fox.

The driver of the van leaned his head back and shouted, “We’re forty minutes out of the city. Pick your drop-off spots, ladies.”

The van came alive with sound as the Sisters started to jabber to one another. In the back row, Myra and Annie sat upright to try to get their bearings.

Annie’s voice was cheerful when she said, “I don’t know about you, Myra, but I’m getting a certain sense of déjà vu here. This is like the last time we came into the District, were dropped off, then made our way to the apartments of credit-card thieves Bonnie and Clyde.”

Myra chewed on her lower lip. “We made it happen, Annie. There’s no reason to jinx us now with that kind of talk.”