Choppy Water - Stuart Woods Page 0,35

you want something from me, people will say it’s a payoff for the airplane.”

“How much should I bill?”

“Whatever it would cost to charter the same airplane.”

“You’ll be shocked,” he said.

She shook her head. “The Treasury will be shocked, but they’ll spread the cost around, since there’ll be half a dozen Secret Service people and one Air Force pilot on board.”

Stone called Joan. “Please find out what it would cost to charter a Gulfstream 500 for an hour and a half flight to Manassas, Virginia, and a return flight in a few days.”

“Don’t you already have one of those?” Joan asked.

“Yes, but we have to figure out what to charge the transition team for it.” He hung up.

“This is going to cost twenty-five thousand dollars,” Holly said.

Joan rang back and told Stone the cost. He hung up. “Not even close,” he said. “It’s thirty-eight thousand dollars, each way.”

“We need the cheapest available price,” Holly said.

“That’s it. Joan called three services. Not all of them have a G-500 available.”

“If it were up to me, I’d hitchhike,” Holly said.

“You are hitchhiking,” Stone replied.

“Hitchhiking is free.”

“Free ain’t what it used to be,” Stone pointed out. “Now come to lunch.”

* * *

—

Lunch was a Caesar salad with chunks of chicken and a bottle of fizzy mineral water.

“You know,” Holly said, “the scale of all this is weighing heavily on me.”

“Get used to it,” Stone replied. “It’s not going to change.”

“At State, I was always trying to save a buck here and there.”

“The federal budget makes State’s look like the widow’s mite. Anyway, the cost of the airplane is spread over your transition, the Secret Service, and the Air Force, and maybe two or three other agencies we can’t think of at the moment. And they all move on money. Fuel costs money. Airports cost money—that’s why there are landing fees. It costs money to scrape the bugs off the windshield.”

28

Stone and Holly were having breakfast in bed the following morning when Holly’s phone rang. “Yes? Scrambled. Hi, there! What a good idea. I’ll ask him.” She turned toward Stone. “Kate wants you to come to D.C. with me and stay at the White House a few days, then we’ll fly back.”

Stone thought about it for a millisecond. “Okay.”

“He’s in. Yes, we’ll be there for lunch. Bye-bye.”

“Why does she want me there?” Stone asked.

“Because she enjoys your company. So does Will. Do you realize how few people she deals with daily whose company she does not enjoy?”

“I’d never thought about it.”

“Now you know.”

They arrived at Teterboro, and the airplane was on the ramp with the right engine already running. The car pulled up close, and Claire got out, unfolded the walker, and positioned it by the rear car door.

Stone got out, then turned to assist Holly. “Do this very slowly and very carefully, like you don’t want to fall and break a hip.” He helped her stand up and take a step to the walker. Claire was at her elbow. When they reached the airstairs, both Claire and Stone were right behind her, each taking an elbow, then the stewardess boarded with the walker and closed the door, and immediately the left engine started.

“Jesus,” Holly said, struggling to get the coat off. “This thing weighs a ton!” She yanked off the wig. “And it’s so hot!” She hung it on the walker and sat down, smoothing her hair, which was pinned up.

“Don’t take the hair down,” Claire said. “We don’t have a hairdresser aboard to fix it when we arrive.”

“Oh, all right,” Holly said.

“I’m going to give you a little pep talk when we arrive,” Claire said, “so you won’t have to remember it any longer than it takes to get into the car.”

Holly nodded, opened her briefcase, and started to read reports and documents.

Stone sat beside her, with Claire facing her. “You know,” Claire said, “I think we can get a lot of mileage out of this wig and coat thing.”

Holly rolled her eyes but said nothing.

Stone spoke up. “When that outfit wears out, you can strap her onto a stretcher and put her in an ambulance for the ride.”

“Not without shooting me in the head first,” Holly said, then went back to reading.

* * *

—

They set down at Manassas, Virginia, and before the airplane stopped rolling, a black Lincoln Town Car, maybe ten years old but impeccable, drove up to the left wingtip.

Claire helped Holly with the wig and the coat, and Stone preceded them down the airstairs, carrying the walker.

“All right, Grandma,” he