Page 88 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 84

Manchester, New Hampshire

F rom his seat on the Air Force C-37A, the First Gentleman glances down at the office buildings and old brick factories of Manchester, New Hampshire.

In the seat across from him, Secret Service agent Doug Lambert types on his iPad.

Cole Wright is jumpy and anxious.

Not about making a stump speech for a local mayor.

From the California governor’s mansion to the White House, he’s done countless similar events.

What he’s nervous about is being out of DC while Maddy prepares for her big address.

He’s long been her favorite sounding board when she tries out key phrases and closings.

Not this time. The only person who’s heard her rehearse is Burton Pearce.

They’re all hoping the power play will work.

The plan is for Maddy, with core senators and House leaders at her side, to roll over any opposition and secure popular support.

She’s been banking goodwill with legislators and constituents for years.

This is when it needs to pay off—big-time.

A uniformed airman makes his way down the aisle.

“We’ll be landing shortly. Seat belts, please.”

One of Cole’s aides, Maeve Fusco, come over and hands him an index card.

“Any changes?” Cole asks, tucking the card in his breast pocket.

“No, sir,” Fusco says, sitting down.

She reviews the itinerary and key event participants on her iPad.

“You’ll meet Mayor Bracken on the apron. His wife’s name is Amy. Schoolteacher. Welcome remarks from the mayor. Then you. You’re happy to be in New Hampshire, and in Manchester, the Queen City. Then we convoy to the Bedford Village Inn. Cocktail reception for donors. Then dinner in the great hall. You speak. Bracken speaks. No Q and A. Convoy back to the plane. We should be wheels-up by midnight.”

“Surgical strike,” says Cole.

“I like it.”

Fusco leans back in her seat.

Cole hears the shift in the engine noise, then the rumble and thud of the landing gear coming down and locking into place.

He rubs his eyes and feels the jolt of the wheels hitting the runway at Manchester-Boston Regional Airport.

Through the window and across the tarmac, he can see the greeting party and press gaggle.

A half a dozen New Hampshire state troopers stand guard nearby.

The jet taxis to a stop.

Fusco jumps out of her seat, pulls out her cell phone, and starts nailing down last-minute logistics with her counterpart on the mayor’s staff.

When the plane door opens, Fusco looks back at Cole and gives him a thumbs-up.

Game time.

Doug Lambert walks ahead of Cole down the aisle.

“Sage deplaning,” he mutters into his lapel mic.

The agent stands in the doorway and surveys the area as another agent positions himself by the belly of the plane.

Lambert hangs tight to Cole’s side while two more agents scan the greeters.

Cole’s smile gets broader with each step he takes.

By the time his shoes hit the tarmac, he’s beaming like a movie star—or at least a beloved character actor.

The mayor and his wife are at the foot of the aircraft steps.

Cole grabs Bracken’s extended hand and moves in for a man hug, slapping the mayor’s back soundly.

The mayor returns the gesture and whispers in his ear, “Thanks for coming, Cole.”

“My pleasure, Dale. Honored to be here.” Cole releases the hug and turns to the petite woman by Bracken’s side.

“Amy! What grade are you teaching now?”

She takes Cole’s hand and grips it firmly.

“Middle school, Mr. Wright. Preteens.”

“Please—it’s Cole. Preteens? That must take a lot of energy.” He moves in and gives her an air-kiss about half an inch from her cheek.

Amy Bracken nods. “All the energy I’ve got!”

From there, it’s another quick round of handshakes and backslaps.

Then Mayor Bracken taps Cole’s arm and points him toward a bank of microphones on a patch of red carpet.

Behind a rope barrier, members of the local media are poised with broadcast cameras and upheld phones.

Bracken steps up to speak.

He’s got a deep, rolling voice and a folksy, off-the-cuff delivery.

“Amy and I are so pleased to welcome the First Gentleman to Manchester. And we’re happy to pledge our unwavering support for the Wright administration’s agenda. As I’ve said many times, the president’s plans are good for Manchester, good for New Hampshire, good for America!” The mayor nods to Cole, claps enthusiastically, and steps back.

The rest of the welcoming party join in, giving Cole a small ovation.

Cole squares himself in front of the mics and locks his eyes at the level of the camera lenses.

He notices two people standing to the side of the press scrum.

A man and a woman. Badges around their necks.

More local security, he assumes.

“Thank you, Mayor Bracken. We are glad to have you on our team! I’m happy to be back in New Hampshire and in the Queen City. New Hampshire is a state that means so much to Maddy and me. As you know, this is where it all started four years ago, with Dale Bracken’s support. And I’m honored to be here to help him as he plans his bright future. You’ll hear more about that tonight!”

The administration’s endorsement of the mayor is in the bag, of course.

This is pure theater.

Leave ’em in suspense.

Cole steps back from the mics and shouts, “Thank you!” He gives the press a brisk wave.

“Mr. Wright!” a reporter shouts.

“What can you tell us about the Grand Bargain?” Other reporters join in.

“Is the president really getting ready to blow up entitlements? Is she about to touch the third rail?”

Cole turns to Bracken.

His smile is gone now.

“Let’s move.”

The troopers form a cordon leading to a row of sedans and SUVs.

A police car with flashing lights idles at the front with motorcycle cops on both sides.

Bracken places his hand on the small of his wife’s back and hurries her toward the first SUV.

An agent by the side of the second SUV holds the rear door open.

As Cole heads toward the car, he sees two people approaching to intercept him.

A tall man and a woman with dark hair parted in the center.

The same pair he saw standing near the press.

The next few seconds are a blur.

Cole sees Agent Lambert step in front of him.

He feels another agent’s hands on his shoulders, pushing him to the ground.

A third agent sprints toward the pair from the greeting area as he pulls an automatic machine pistol from his jacket.

“Friendly!” the man shouts, holding his badge high.

The woman at his side holds up her badge too, and they both extend their other hands, palms open.

Lambert yells, “Stay back!” He has his Glock out now.

“Official government business,” the guy calls.

“Stand down!”

Cole grabs Lambert’s arm.

“Doug! Stay cool! Let’s not get anybody shot out here.”

The woman steps up and looks directly at Cole.

“What’s this about?” Cole asks.

“Mr. Wright, I’m Detective Sergeant Gagnon, New Hampshire State Police. I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Suzanne Bonanno. This man is Deputy Attorney General Bastinelli, and he will read you your rights.”

“Like hell,” says Lambert.

The agent behind Cole pulls him toward the cars.

The reporters are straining at the rope barrier.

Cole plants his feet and twists free of the agent.

“Stop!” He turns to face Gagnon.

“Detective, I don’t know what this is about, but let’s not have a battle out here on the runway.”

“I agree, sir,” says Gagnon.

“Bad look for everybody. We don’t need to cuff you, and you can bring your detail. But as of this moment, you’re in our custody.”

“We can delay the reading of the rights until we’re in the vehicle,” says Bastinelli.

Cole cannot believe this is happening.

He turns to Lambert.

“Call the president, then call Burton Pearce—in that order.”

Lambert nods.

He holsters his gun and pulls out his phone.

Cole keeps his face composed for the cameras, but his fists are clenched tight at his sides.

He’d thought this nightmare was far behind him.

But now, after seventeen years, it’s back.