Absolute Power by David Baldacci Page A

him on this. Just one small step ahead and she would be fine. It wouldn’t be easy; he was sharp, but he was also arrogant. Arrogant people habitually overestimated their own abilities and underestimated everyone else’s.
    “And nobody knew she was meeting you?”
    “I think we can assume she was discreet, Gloria. Christy didn’t have too much upstairs, her gifts were slightly lower, but she understood economics with the best of them.” The President winked at his Chief of Staff. “She had about eight hundred million to lose if her husband found out she was screwing around, even with the President.”
    Russell knew about Walter Sullivan’s odd viewing habits from the mirror and chair, but then again, for the assignations he didn’t know about, didn’t get to watch, who knew what his reaction would’ve been? Thank God it hadn’t been Sullivan sitting there in the dark.
    “I warned you, Alan, that one day your little extracurricular activities would get us into trouble.”
    Richmond looked at her, disappointment on his features. “Listen, you think I’m the first guy to hold this office to catch a little action on the side? Don’t be so goddamned naive, Gloria. At least I’m a helluva lot more discreet than some of my predecessors. I take the responsibilities of the job . . . and I take the perks. Understand?”
    Russell nervously rubbed at her neck. “Completely, Mr. President.”
    “So it’s just this one guy, who can’t do anything.”
    “It only takes one to bring the house of cards tumbling down.”
    “Yeah? Well there are a lot of people living in that house. Just remember that.”
    “I do, Chief, every day.”
    There was a knock at the door. Russell’s deputy assistant leaned in. “Five minutes, sir.” The President nodded and waved him off.
    “Great timing on this presentation.”
    “Ransome Baldwin contributed heavily to your campaign, as did all of his friends.”
    “You don’t have to explain political paybacks to me, sweetheart.”
    Russell stood up and moved over to him. She took his good arm, looked intently at him. On his left cheek was a small scar. A souvenir from some shrapnel during a brief stint in the Army toward the end of the Vietnam War. As his political career had taken off, the female consensus was that the tiny imperfection greatly enhanced his attractiveness. Russell found herself staring at that scar.
    “Alan, I will do whatever it takes to protect your interest. You will get through this, but we need to work together. We’re a team, Alan, we’re a helluva team. They can’t take us down, not if we act together.”
    The President studied her face for a brief moment, and then rewarded her with the smile that routinely accompanied front-page headlines. He pecked her on the cheek, squeezed her against him; she clung to him.
    “I love you, Gloria. You’re a trouper.” He picked up his speech. “It’s showtime.” He turned and walked out. Russell stared after his broad back, carefully rubbed at her cheek and then followed him out.
    *   *   *
    J ACK LOOKED AROUND THE OVERSTATED ELEGANCE OF THE immense East Room. The place was full of some of the most powerful men and women in the country. Skillful networking was taking place all around him, and all he could do was stand and gawk. He looked across the room and spied his fiancée cornering a congressman from some state out west, no doubt plying Baldwin Enterprises’s needy case for the good legislator’s assistance on riparian rights.
    His fiancée spent much of her time gaining access to holders of power at all levels. From county commissioners to Senate Committee chairmen, Jennifer stroked the right egos, fed the right hands, and made certain that all the important players were in place when Baldwin Enterprises wanted another mammoth deal orchestrated. The doubling of the assets of her father’s company during the last five years was due in no small part to her excelling at that task. In truth, what man was