Page 127 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 123

The White House

I n the East Room of the White House, President Madeline Wright walks past the full-length portrait of George Washington to the podium.

She opens the leather binder with the presidential seal on the cover.

She looks out over the room.

The space is empty except for Burton Pearce.

“What about flags?” asks the chief of staff.

“Flags?” asks Maddy.

“What flags do you want behind you for the announcement? Stars and Stripes?”

“Can we fit the flags of all fifty states and the territories?” asks Maddy.

“I want a message of unity—common purpose.”

Pearce thinks for a minute.

“It would take up the whole back of the room, but sure.”

“As long as there’s still room for Ransom,” says Maddy.

She runs her finger down the first page with a pencil in hand.

Her speech isn’t quite ready.

Neither is the Grand Bargain.

This is just a very early rehearsal.

The East Room is a stand-in for the chamber of the House of Representatives, where the actual speech will be delivered, assuming everything comes together.

But for Maddy, just running through the language in a big room helps make the program feel real.

“The words need work, Burton,” says Maddy, flipping through the pages.

“Still sounds too political. Not grand enough.”

She and Pearce have been working and reworking the details and wording of the announcement.

With every new convert to the plan or tweak to the program, language needs to be altered and polished.

Maddy considers editing one of her strongest skills, but she’s having a hard time concentrating.

The lack of sleep isn’t helping.

The crisis in the South China Sea has been a forty-eight-hour roller coaster, eased slightly when Admiral Boone managed to get hold of his counterpart in Beijing.

The territorial dispute with the Philippines was not resolved—it’s still smoldering—but at least the Chinese navy allowed the Philippine frigate to slip back to its port near Lian.

No missiles or torpedoes fired.

No casualties on either side.

But right now, Maddy’s mind is on her husband.

“Should I be up in New Hampshire tomorrow for the closing arguments?”

Pearce shakes his head.

“No, ma’am. It could be seen as trying to influence the jury. You need to stay put. Wait for the verdict.”

“I feel like I’m leaving Cole alone at the worst time of his life.” Maddy puts down her pencil and grips the sides of the lectern to hide the fact that her hands are trembling.

“He’s not alone, ma’am. He’s got a top legal team with him. Led by Tess.” Pearce steps up onto the riser and leans in close.

“Madam President, think back to when Cole was playing football at Dartmouth.”

He shifts his gaze into the distance, as if he’s staring into the past. “I tell you, there were times when he caught a pass at midfield and it looked like he had nowhere to go. No way out. Cornerbacks chasing him. Safeties coming at him. Somehow, he always found a way through to the end zone. It was a beautiful thing to watch.”

Maddy takes a deep breath.

“It was.” She closes her binder and steps off the podium.

“Refresh me—how many cornerbacks and safeties are there?”

Pearce steps down and follows close behind.

“Usually four on a team, ma’am.”

Maddy turns to face him.

“Well, imagine if there were twelve! There could be twelve people against him in that jury room.”

“I doubt that, ma’am.” The Gray Ghost lowers his voice.

“And remember, all we need for a hung jury is one undecided.”

Maddy knows that Cole wants a clean not-guilty verdict.

She does too. But her old friend and chief of staff is right.

If just one juror holds out on a guilty conviction, the judge will have to declare a mistrial.

Not a perfect outcome.

But the Grand Bargain is already hanging in the balance.

It can’t wait much longer.

And in the course of American history, that’s what matters more.