sense, Gabrielle still doubted the allegations. "What does any of this have to do with me?"
"Simply put, Ms. Ashe, if we release these documents, your candidate will be indicted for illegal campaign financing, lose his Senate seat, and most likely do prison time." Tench paused. "Unless... "
Gabrielle saw a snakelike glint in the senior adviser's eyes. "Unless what?"
Tench took a long drag on her cigarette. "Unless you decide to help us avoid all that."
A murky silence settled over the room.
Tench coughed roughly. "Gabrielle, listen, I decided to share this unfortunate information with you for three reasons. First, to show you Zach Herney is a decent man who considers the government's well-being before his personal gain. Second, to inform you that your candidate is not as trustworthy as you might think. And third, to persuade you to accept the offer I am about to make."
"That offer being?"
"I'd like to offer you a chance to do the right thing. The patriotic thing. Whether you know it or not, you're in a unique position to spare Washington all kinds of unpleasant scandal. If you can do what I am about to ask, perhaps you could even earn yourself a place on the President's team."
A place on the President's team? Gabrielle couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Ms. Tench, whatever you have in mind, I do not appreciate being black-mailed, coerced, or talked down to. I work for the senator's campaign because I believe in his politics. And if this is any indication of the way Zach Herney exerts political influence, I have no interest in being associated with him! If you've got something on Senator Sexton, then I suggest you leak it to the press. Frankly, I think this whole thing's a sham."
Tench gave a dreary sigh. "Gabrielle, your candidate's illegal funding is a fact. I'm sorry. I know you trust him." She lowered her voice. "Look, here's the point. The President and I will go public with the funding issue if we must, but it will get ugly on a grand scale. This scandal involves several major U.S. corporations breaking the law. A lot of innocent people will pay the price." She took a long drag and exhaled. "What the President and I are hoping for here... is some other way to discredit the senator's ethics. A way that is more contained... one in which no innocent parties get hurt." Tench set down her cigarette and folded her hands. "Simply put, we would like you to publicly admit that you had an affair with the senator."
Gabrielle's entire body went rigid. Tench sounded utterly certain of herself. Impossible, Gabrielle knew. There was no proof. The sex had happened only once, behind locked doors in Sexton's senatorial office. Tench has nothing. She's fishing. Gabrielle fought to retain her steady tone. "You assume a lot, Ms. Tench."
"Which? That you had an affair? Or that you would abandon your candidate?"
"Both."
Tench gave a curt smile and stood up. "Well, let's put one of those facts to rest right now, shall we?" She walked to her wall safe again and returned with a red manila folder. It was stamped with the White House seal. She unhooked the clasp, tipped the envelope over, and dumped the contents out on the desk in front of Gabrielle.
As dozens of color photographs spilled out onto the desk, Gabrielle saw her entire career come crashing down before her.
46
Outside the habisphere, the katabatic wind roaring down off the glacier was nothing like the ocean winds Tolland was accustomed to. On the ocean, wind was a function of tides and pressure fronts and came in gusting ebbs and flows. The katabatic, however, was a slave to simple physics-heavy cold air rushing down a glacial incline like a tidal wave. It was the most resolute gale force Tolland had ever experienced. Had it been coming at twenty knots, the katabatic would have been a sailor's dream, but at its current eighty knots it could quickly become a nightmare even for those on solid ground. Tolland found that if he paused and leaned backward, the stalwart squall could easily prop him up.
Making the raging river of air even more unnerving to Tolland was the slight downwind grade of the ice shelf. The ice was sloped ever so slightly toward the ocean, two miles away. Despite the sharp spikes on the Pitbull Rapido crampons attached to his boots, Tolland had the uneasy feeling that any misstep might leave him caught up in a gale and sliding down the