"In that case, give me a call. I'll show you some of my adopted state from a western saddle."

"I'd be happy to. I'm already having saddle soap withdrawal."

"In that case, the sooner the better."

Her enigmatic expression at that moment would, he knew, stay with him until they hit the trail together—whenever that was.

No sooner had he and Lily moved apart when the admiral, Ellis Wright, stepped in to introduce Gabe to a general as "my man in the White House." There was no hint whatsoever of the rancor that had so recently marked Wright's visit to Gabe's office.

The outer face, the inner face, Gabe mused as the general and the admiral turned to greet Calvyn Berriman. Did anyone in this town actually say what they meant, or mean what they said?

It was at that instant Gabe noticed Lattimore, standing by the doorway to the hall, motioning him over with his eyes and a minute shake of his head, even as he smiled and nodded at various passing guests. His expression, at least to Gabe's reckoning, was grim.

Slowly, deliberately, feeling very much like the other guests as he masked his purpose with a cheerful expression, he worked his way across to the chief of staff, joining him in acknowledging the Secretary of Defense and his wife, then the chief of the National Security Council.

"Is there a problem?" Gabe asked softly, taking pains not to look directly at Lattimore.

"Perhaps. Wait two minutes, then make your way to your office and get your medical bag. The president's Secret Service man, Treat Griswold, will be waiting to take you upstairs to the residence."

"Do I need to bring anything special?" Gabe asked.

"Just an open mind," was the reply.

CHAPTER 7

Battling to look nonchalant, Gabe retrieved his medical bag from the floor by his desk.

"An open mind."

What in the hell had Lattimore meant by that?

By the time Gabe reentered his office reception area, Treat Griswold was waiting, motioning with an upraised hand for him to stay quiet and stay where he was. Cautiously, the Secret Service agent checked the corridor, then beckoned Gabe across to the elevator, which another waiting agent keyed electronically.

"Is the president in trouble?" Gabe asked as they rode.

"I guess that's for you to determine, sir," Griswold said.

A floor above, the elevator opened into a small anteroom, with double doors to the broad, elegantly furnished foyer of the First Family's residence. Griswold motioned Gabe down the hall to the master bedroom, then retreated to a position not far from the elevator.

"Just call if you need me, sir," he said, his expression severe.

Magnus Lattimore stepped into the foyer.

"Anyone see you?" he asked Griswold.

"No one."

"Good. I've sent for the mil aide with The Football. Keep him right there in the landing."

"Will do."

The Football!