The notion led irrepressibly to thoughts of Alison Cromartie. Maybe somewhere down the line, if she managed to stick around and if things ever got straightened out with her, they could do one of these trips together. At that moment, as if on cue, Alison appeared beside Gerrity, talking amiably and gesturing to the van. Even at a distance, wearing a conservative navy blue pants suit, she stood out.

From the moment she pulled out her Secret Service ID after apparently saving his life, Gabe had gotten used to feeling bewildered and unsettled around her. Now, even at a distance, he felt awkward. Despite Ellis Wright's rant at her that evening in the medical office, the man apparently had enough regard for her to assign her to The Show.

Curious.

"Doc, come on. Duck on in here," Griswold ordered, standing by the open door to Stagecoach.

The last sound Gabe heard before he slid onto the seat across from Martin was the President of the United States coughing softly.

The last thing he saw, turning back toward the White House for one final look, was Vice President Thomas Cooper III, flanked by two Secret Service agents, looking down at them intently from the portico.

CHAPTER 22

Signal depart. All posts: We have a departure of Maverick. Over." Treat Griswold lowered the sleeve transmitter and turned next to him where Gabe was sitting. "You doin' okay, Doc?"

"Aside from being a little afraid I'm going to stretch my legs and blow my foot off, I'm fine."

He gestured to the submachine gun that was lying on the floor of the limousine.

"I told them we should build a gun rack in the limos for these things," Griswold said.

"Or else make your shoulder holsters a lot bigger."

Martin Shapiro, the young speechwriter, glanced up from the passage on which he and the president had been working.

"I'm always looking for crisp, punchy lines, Doctor," he said. "Okay if I appropriate that one? If not for this speech, then for something down the road."

"I want to see it when you do," Gabe said.

"Here," Drew said, pointing to a spot in the manuscript. "Why make him wait? Right here where I'm talking about our Korean friend, President Jong, and his goddamn obsession with nuclear reactors. Let's say something like having him persistently claiming that the massive towers on our surveillance photos are for sewage treatment and not nuclear production is a little like our maintaining that the three-foot-long shoulder holsters we have just issued to the Secret Service—"

"Have nothing to do with submachine guns." Shapiro grinned as he finished the thought. "Give me a minute or two to get the wording and the timing right and I think we can use it."

"There you go, cowboy," Drew said. "Just like that, you're immortal."

"Just like that," Gabe said, genuinely impressed.