Chapter 68: Camp David

Originally, we had been scheduled for an in-and-out meeting with the President and First Lady. You know, a quick handshake, a cup of coffee, and thank-you’s all around for helping save the First Lady’s life.

You’d think I’d learn.

The wheels of the presidential chopper had barely settled on the helipad at Camp David when Cynthiana and I were whisked away on a speedy golf cart to a cabin less than 100 yards away. Inside was President Dexter and a half-dozen high ranking military officers in full dress uniform with all manner of awards and metals adorning them. The officers were already seated around a long conference table and engaged in a serious debate when we were shown into the room by the secret service.

President Dexter rose from his seat and first hugged Cynthina and then shook my hand. “Forgive the unsettled reception, my friend,” President Dexter said softly as quiet descended over the room. “Won’t you and Mrs. Rappeneau have a seat.”

The lack of introductions was glaring, and I suddenly realized that it must have been intentional. The thought occurred to me that President Dexter was just about to teach some officers a lesson.

“What seems to be the problem, Gentlemen?” Cynthiana asked to open the discussion. Wherever she went, she was a natural leader, and I was thrilled to see her in action with the Joint Chiefs. I watched how she just assumed control as if she was the one who had called this meeting.

“It’s that damned ghost ship!” spat a high-ranking naval officer with a chest full of medals. “It’s the actual HMS Hood!”

The real problem was that the ghost ship was currently under British and French possession on a British Island and all the Americans could do was look over their shoulders. I listened to this nonsense for about five minutes and then stood up.

“I’m sorry gentlemen, my grandmother and I came this morning to visit with the First Lady. Since all you want to do is cry over spilt milk, we will leave you to it and continue our meeting with Anita,” I said. Then, taking Cynthiana’s arm, I headed for the door.

I had barely taken two steps when I heard, “Alex is right. We have other, more important matters to discuss,” President Dexter told his advisors. “Is now a good time to discuss ‘First Contact’, Alex?”

The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I heard the words ‘First Contact’. I took a deep breath and slowly turned to face the President and his advisors who were all staring at the President and myself. I now understood what lesson he was trying to teach.

“I’m not sure what we have to discuss, Ron. I will remind you that YOU and I, and by extension your country and I, already have an agreement. You leave me and my family and friends alone, and I will leave you alone,” I reminded him. “I am sure you understand that includes you not revealing my existence to anyone outside this room. Because, of course, if that happened, I would take it as a breach of trust and destroy everyone here in the blink of an eye.”

In the far corner of the room stood a marble, Napoleonic-looking bust on a carved stand. I hoped that it was more decorative than sentimental because I destroyed it in the blink of an eye.

Then before they could say anything, Cynthiana and I simply disappeared.

The Secret Service agents outside the cabin were startled when we suddenly appeared outside the front door, but they were not sure if what they saw was real. I think they just assumed that we had walked out the door, albeit quite unexpectedly.

Of course, they could hear the roar of the President’s military advisors still inside as they all shouted to be heard. I smiled to myself. I kind of liked Ron’s way of breaking the news of ‘aliens among us’ to his military leaders.

In any event, the Secret Service agents escorted us to one of the many golf carts standing there and took us to where the First Lady was meeting with the rest of the family.

We ended up having a nice luncheon with Anita, who was very welcoming and heartfelt in her thanks for all we had done for her, including healing her staff and herself.

And then we left. Two hours (plus the ten minutes wasted in that faux staff meeting) in and out, and we were headed back to the Cécile.

...

Once on board, I quickly changed out of my suit into shorts and a T-shirt. We were still too close to shore to get naked yet. When Rachel had changed, we made our way down to the salon to find something to drink.

The Cécile felt empty. Mom, Dad, Kelly Ann, Jenna, Cynthiana, Carina, and Reggie had flown on to BWI to take the company plane back to Zurich. And Captain Alfred and Captain Tony were both on the bridge, piloting us towards Chesapeake Bay and eventually out to sea. Unsure what my little demonstration might have done to the Joint Chiefs, I warned the Captains to keep a sharp eye on the radar until we reached open seas.

That left Archara and Monique, their four daughters, me and Rachel, Rachel’s little sister Jana, my bodyguards, Sarah and Samantha, and Lily on board. Fourteen souls. I think that this was the least crowded the Cécile had been since I got her.

“Where are we going next?” Rachel asked.

“I think we’re headed to Fort Lauderdale,” I replied. “Captain Alfred said something about going back to the Bering facility. One of the engines has a slight vibration from all the weather we went through with the hurricane. After that, well...”

“I have to wait until July twenty-third before I can return to Europe. At least that’s what Cynthiana told me when we got my passport updated,” Rachel informed us. “That’s next Friday.”

“Then maybe we should plan to spend some time exploring Fort Lauderdale. I know my girls would love some more time on the beach there,” Monique said.

It was good seeing Anita again,” Archara said. “She looked so much better. And she seemed very appreciative of all our support.”

“Did you really introduce Cynthiana to the Joint Chiefs as your grandmother?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah, but the only one who caught it was the President. The others were all wrapped up in ‘aliens among us’ thing.

It was interesting that this didn’t produce any further discussion. I think it was finally becoming old-hat to everyone. The chit-chat continued in that casual vein until Archara called the teenagers to the galley to start dinner.

After dinner, Rachel and I retired, alone, to the owner’s suite. It had been a very busy day.

I woke up just before midnight and made my way up to the bridge to spell the Captains.

Captain Alfred was alone and quickly filled me in on our location, speed and the weather.

“There’s a course change coming up in about two hours to the south-southwest. The seas are smooth but there is a front coming from the southwest and will be here before morning. Looks like a rainy morning,” Captain Alfred informed me. “Tony should be back on the bridge by eight o’clock. Anything you need?”

“A cup of coffee would be nice if there’s anyone awake,” I told him.

“Ha!” he laughed. “Just look what your girlfriend got for you.”

I turned to look and there sat a new Kurig single cup coffee maker with a basket of pods and a tray of cups and condiments. “Those girls are sure something,” he smiled.

“Carry on, Skipper,” Captain Alfred said with a two-finger salute as he headed downstairs.

After starting myself a cup of coffee, I immediately began my bridge duties. Then with coffee in hand, I settled into the captains’ chair and thought about my day...

“Where are you?” Rachel’s voice came to my mind.

“I’m on the bridge,” I replied.