Chapter 9 #4
That, of course, wasn’t a uniquely American problem. It existed in every country and every form of government.
Everyone who sought power enjoyed the feeling of control, even if control was often an illusion. If you didn’t enjoy it at least a little, the weight that landed on your shoulders would crush you—the weight of criticism, idolatry, expectation, and real and present danger.
But once a person claimed power, there were only two ways to approach it.
Either you accepted it as a mantle of trust, or you viewed it as permission to use it however you wished.
Candace watched Cooper lift a bowling ball with both hands, shuffle toward the lane, and release it with more hope than skill.
The ball rolled slowly.
Painfully slowly.
Jameson leaned toward Alex. “This might reach the pins by Thursday.”
Alex laughed into her drink.
Mackenzie cupped her hands around her mouth. “Come on, Coop!”
The ball drifted left, corrected slightly, then clipped three pins with a sound far too triumphant for the result.
Cooper spun around, both arms in the air. “Three!”
“Technically,” Alex said, “that is more than two.”
“Thank you,” Cooper said. He grinned. Jameson had tried to show off earlier and landed in the gutter twice before managing to knock down two pins.
“You’re welcome.”
Candace smiled.
This was the reason power mattered.
Power wasn’t achieved by walking down marble halls or riding in motorcades. It didn’t live in briefings or legislation. And it wasn’t defined by leaders seated around polished tables discussing security cooperation and trade routes.
Those things mattered.
They mattered because of moments when children held paper certificates and ate pizza from paper plates.
The meaning was found in Mackenzie explaining to anyone who would listen that whales were mammals and therefore deserved to be considered by parents and presidents.
Connor arguing that sea turtles were also important.
Fallon insisting mermaids should still be included because “cartoons should still count. "
And Cooper, proud and slightly embarrassed because someone had noticed something he had done for no reason except that he cared.
That was the work, too.
Maybe the truest part of it.
“You look thoughtful,” Cassidy said, stepping beside her.
Candace glanced at her. “Occupational hazard.”
“Mm. I’ve heard there’s treatment for that.”
“Does it involve pizza?”
“It might.”
Candace smiled and looked back toward the lanes. "They really are something."
"Yes, they are." Cassidy smiled. “He knows why you couldn’t be at the assembly."
“I know.”
"Candace, we both know, even if we didn't work in this building, we wouldn't make it to every game or assembly."
Candace sighed. "I know that, too."
"Yes. You do. You need reminding sometimes."
Candace laughed. "Between you, Jameson, and Shell, that's never a problem."
"Mm."
"What?"
"You left out Dana."
Candace sighed.
"I know you miss having her on your team," Cassidy said.
"I do. But it will be good for her and for Jameson when she settles into her new role."
Cassidy nodded.
Across the room, Jameson helped Cooper choose another ball while Alex stood behind Mackenzie, adjusting her stance. Mackenzie listened for approximately three seconds before explaining why Alex’s suggestion was “statistically questionable.”
Candace heard Alex say, “Kenzie, I've been doing this a lot longer.”
Mackenzie replied, “You're good with pool balls. Those are supposed to go in the pocket. Your balls always wind up in the gutter."
Jameson nearly dropped the bowling ball she was holding.
Candace and Cassidy laughed as Alex put up her hands and stepped away.
Then Alex looked over.
The humor in her expression faded—not completely, but enough.
Candace saw it.
Alex tilted her head slightly toward the hallway.
It was more than a request.
Candace set down her cup.
Cassidy followed her gaze. “What is it?”
“I’m about to find out.”
Cassidy looked toward Alex and then back at Candace. Whatever she saw in Candace’s face made her straighten.
“Do you want me to come?”
Candace considered it.
“No,” she said. “Not yet.”
Cassidy nodded.
Candace crossed the room, careful not to draw attention. It was a skill she had learned long before the presidency—how to move with purpose without creating alarm. How to leave a room full of laughter while pretending she was only stepping out for a moment.
Alex met her near the doorway.
“What happened?” Candace asked.
Alex looked past her, toward the children bowling beneath the soft lights of the White House alley.
Then she met Candace’s eyes.
"Alex?"
"No one can reach Jane."
Candace blinked. "What do you mean no one can reach her?"
"Just what I said."
"Joshua—"
"He says he doesn't know where she is. She asked for some space."
Candace closed her eyes and massaged them. Then she looked back at Alex. "What do you think?"
"I don't know what to think. Stephanie called Dylan because Jane isn't answering her calls or Alexandra's."
Candace shook her head, trying to process the information. "Alex, a former First Lady—that former First Lady—cannot just disappear."
"Yeah. I know. Claire is working with Jim."
"Do you think she's looking for her father?"
Alex shook her head. "Maybe. Candace, Jane was higher up at the Company than any of us."
Candace rubbed her brow. No matter how much she learned about how the intelligence service worked, no matter how many seemingly fantastical things she confronted, she still struggled to grasp the reality of the intelligence complex's extent. It was shadowy. And vaster than even she imagined.
Candace studied Alex’s face.
Alex was controlled. Too controlled. Her shoulders were relaxed, her voice steady, her expression almost unreadable. Candace had learned enough about Alex Toles to understand what that meant.
Fear.
Alex had already moved past feeling it into planning around it.
“What do you need from me?” Candace asked.
Alex exhaled. “Permission.”
“For what?”
“To bring Kapralov to D.C. Now. Whatever it takes.”
Candace looked toward the hallway, then back toward the room behind her where children were eating pizza and arguing about mermaids.
Power, she thought, was always a choice. When to claim it. When to deploy it.
She looked back at Alex.
"Whatever you need. But I want to know everything, Alex. I mean it. Everything."
Alex nodded. "You will."