He couldn’t wait to tell his son all about the amazing airplane that ferried the president around and had been making notes of things he didn’t want to forget. Mostly he wanted to know how Scotty’s school day had gone and whether he’d had any more trouble with Nathan the bully. Nick wanted to know how Graham’s statement had gone over with the media and what Christina was hearing on the political front. And he really wished he could hear from his wife while he was away.

The lack of information was making him feel a bit twitchy, even though he understood the need for radio silence as the president jetted into a war zone. Despite what he’d said to Sam, Nick was a tiny bit anxious about the potential danger of landing in Afghanistan. They’d arrive under the cover of darkness, which offered a measure of comfort.

Nick heard a stir outside the guest cabin door before it opened to admit White House Chief of Staff Tom Hanigan. Roughly fifty with prematurely gray hair, Hanigan was intense and focused at all times.

“I apologize for disturbing you, Senator.”

“You’re not disturbing me.”

“The president would like a few minutes.”

Nick stood and ran his fingers through his hair, seeking to bring some order to it. “I’m wearing jeans. Is that okay?”

Hanigan spared him a rare smile. “So is he. Right this way.”

Outside the president’s suite, Hanigan stopped and turned to Nick. “How’s Derek?”

“Better.”

“We miss him. I hope he’ll come back to work after the election.”

“I think he will. He just needed some time to adjust to the new normal.”

“There are times when I hate this business,” Hanigan said. “Finding out what’d happened to Victoria—and why—was one of the worst moments of my career. And my life.”

“Mine too.”

“Let him know I’m thinking of him, will you?”

“I’d be happy to. I know he appreciates that you’ve held his job for him.”

“Of course we did. He’s the only one in the West Wing who can manage you people on the Hill.”

Nick laughed at the veiled insult, knowing it had been said in jest. “Ouch.”

Smiling, Hanigan knocked on the door to the president’s onboard office, which Nick had seen earlier, and led Nick into the room.

“Senator,” Nelson said, standing when Nick walked in. He extended a hand that Nick stepped forward to shake. To say it was surreal to be meeting with the president while in flight on Air Force One would be putting it mildly. “Thanks, Tom,” Nelson said. “I’ll take it from here.”

“As you wish, Mr. President.”

Hanigan departed, the door clicking shut behind him.

“Have a seat,” Nelson said, gesturing to two upholstered chairs that sat adjacent to the desk. “Drink?”

“I wouldn’t say no to some bourbon.”

“That sounds good to me too.”