Chapter 8

The sounds that came from my throat scared even me, as I heard the echo of Jim's words. It was something between a mourning wail, and a shout of agony. The sudden pain in my chest threatened to put me down, and I knew it was impossible to communicate right then, so I just listened.

"Benjamin has been having trouble with his right front leg for some time. Yesterday we had a new vet look at him, and he found an incredibly advanced tumor in his hip socket. The poor guy never had a chance, and we decided to put him to sleep because of the terrible pain. I am so sorry, son. He took losing you so hard and never fully recovered.

"The children are handling losing Benjamin about as well as could be expected, but I think you, me, Colleen, and Millie are taking it the hardest. I am so sorry, son. I know how much you loved that dog..." I wasn't in any condition to talk about losing my buddy, so I thanked them and hung up.

Constance was right at my side, comforting me, even as she begged me to tell her what was wrong. "That call was to tell me that yesterday, I lost a very good friend in addition to Catherine," was all I said.

The day dragged like an anchor in deep, soft mud. Nothing seemed to interest me, and when I wasn't grieving for Catherine and planning the painful deaths of her killers, I was mourning Benjamin. Constance seemed to have no agenda other than staying near and trying to anticipate my needs. "As much as I love you for looking after me, I feel like I'm taking advantage of you," I said, seriously.

She just smiled and kept right on anticipating my every need.

Late in the afternoon I heard a helicopter and walked out front to greet the Judge. His protection detail was markedly larger and far better armed that I was used to; something I made a note to ask about. His face looked tired, and his entire body seemed to sag as he stepped down out of the Huey. My heart went out to him, with all the troubles he was trying to manage.

Constance brought him a hot cup of coffee and some fresh cinnamon rolls she'd baked, and we took seats in the great room, by the gas fire.

The Judge took his time getting comfortable, which meant that his news was not good. "We're hitting a bit of a stone wall," he began. "Our normal intelligence process isn't plugged in to whoever did this. We have ideas, guesses, and theories, but no facts that mean anything. So! We need to move you often and to unusual places while we figure things out.

"The first movement will take place right now. You're going to an undisclosed retreat where no one will be able to get anywhere near you. Don't worry about packing, our people are on the job, and what you need will follow you to your new lodging.

"Constance, your bosses want you to accompany Kevin until further notice. Unless I miss my guess, the text you just received but didn't check is from the White House."

I had my own question that needed answering. "Judge, how did the shooters know where to find me? We weren't at the Atlantis for more than a couple of hours, and suddenly, SHAZAM! There's a whole army of professional killers blowing up the floor we're on."

I could tell that I touched a raw nerve. The Judge looked at me for a long moment and then said, "We have concluded that a source inside the administration is feeding information to whomever it is that keeps coming after you. Kevin, we think that should we discover the identity of the person leading this conspiracy, it will be someone so highly placed in the US Government that their identification could bring down some very important people."

I knew something he didn't know, but was very glad that the Judge was admitting that someone inside was behind this. The Judge apologized again and thanked me for my patience and understanding. He departed just as a Marine helo landed and four heavily armed soldiers took up defensive positions around the perimeter, while my agents swarmed the area between the front door and the carriage house.

An agent insisted I wait until everyone was in place before I was escorted to the chopper. Two very efficient soldiers belted me into the middle seat and took their place on either side of me. Once the area was checked again, the head of my detail waved us off, and the helicopter took off straight up to about one thousand feet, and then darted to the south so fast that no one could have locked on it with an RPG.

It didn't take long before I realized we were in route to Camp David. The Judge really did intend to keep me safe if he was putting me up there. Obviously Hawk Dryden was not using the retreat this week, or there was no way they would let me within ten miles of there. That was too bad. I would have enjoyed seeing him again.

The trip took almost an hour, and we were setting down on the Camp David Helipad. My Marine escorts led me to Birch Lodge where dignitaries usually stayed. Though after the attacks that killed Charles Thornton and his family, Camp David was closed to guests during my time as President.

Left by myself, I wandered the lodge, made a cozy fire, and settled down to wait for Constance to be delivered with my clothes. There was nothing of substance on TV, and I found myself running a movie in my head of the attack on Catherine and me and how it ended so tragically. The film kept repeating until I knew I had to do something to break it up or go mad, so I grabbed my coat and went for a long, slow, walk around the grounds.

One thing about having lived at Camp David for several years was that I knew every inch of the Marine Base, and I knew I needed to keep that information to myself. To accomplish that, I kept a pamphlet/map of Camp David in my hand, open to the appropriate page, as I walked the trails.

Benjamin and I loved our time out here and thinking of him depressed me so badly, I wanted to give up. Everyone was taken from me, starting with my real parents, then my first wife, and continuing through my ladies until yesterday when I lost Catherine and Benjamin on the same day. The collective grief was enormous and threatened to be more than I could handle.

Rather than cave in, I intentionally remembered all the wonderful times I had with all the loved ones that I'd lost. By the time I made it up to losing Beth Ann when the truck crashed into us, Constance had arrived by government vehicle, and was unpacking my belongings. She looked fresh and at peace, which made exactly one of us.

It was time for dinner, and we both looked at one another with the same question. What does one do about supper at Camp David? Before we had a chance to work on it, though, the phone rang and we were 'invited' to dinner at Aspen Lodge. That was the President's cottage, and Constance didn't know that, so I kept it to myself, looking forward to her surprise.

We were driven to Laurel Lodge in a Camp David golf cart even though it was quite chilly, if not downright cold. When we were admitted, President Dryden rose to greet us. "Kevin! I am so glad to see you! I know you've had a pretty bad couple of months, all because you threw yourself at the man who killed John Gray. For the time being, you are going to be perfectly safe up here at Camp David, until my people get this thing finished.

"Now, come in and tell me about your trouble in Nassau yesterday."

He ushered us into the living room, where we were introduced to his wife, Polly. Early on, I had decided that Polly Dryden was the perfect political wife. I remembered her as a bit less 'formal, ' I guess, but that would be before she was firmly ensconced as First Lady. She stood five foot eight in heels, weighed about two pounds above perfectly average, and her dress and hair were 'just right' for the First Lady.