Kane smirked.
"Your biggest weakness is inexperience in foreign affairs. Senators just don't get many chances there, unless they interject themselves in the process, which you've wisely not done over the years. I can bolster you there. That's my strong point. While you have no military service, I have forty years."
"And you're black."
He smiled. "You noticed? Can't slip anything past you."
Kane appraised him. "Vice President Langford Ramsey, one heartbeat away from-"
He held up a halting hand. "Let's not think about that. I simply want eight years as vice president."
Kane smiled. "Both terms?"
"Of course."
"You've done all this to secure a job?"
"What's wrong with that? Isn't that your goal? You, of all people, can understand what that means. I could never be elected president. I'm an admiral, with no political base. But I have a shot at the number two seat. All I have to do is impress one person. You."
He let his words take hold.
"Surely, Aatos, you see the benefits of this arrangement. I can be a valuable ally. Or, if you choose not to honor our deal, I can become a formidable opponent."
He watched as Kane assessed the situation. He knew this man well. He was a heartless, amoral hypocrite who'd spent a lifetime in public office assembling a reputation that he now planned to use to vault himself to the presidency.
Nothing seemed to be in the way.
And nothing would be, provided.
"All right, Langford, I'll give you your place in history."
Finally, a first name. They may be getting somewhere.
"I can also offer something else," Ramsey said. "Call it a gesture of good faith to demonstrate that I'm not the devil you think me to be."
He spied mistrust in Kane's observant eyes.
"I'm told that your chief opponent, especially in the early primaries, will be the governor of South Carolina. You and he don't get along, so the fight could quickly become personal. He's a potential problem, particularly in the South. Let's face it, no one can win the White House without the South. Too many electoral votes to ignore."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"I can eliminate his candidacy."
Kane held up his hands in a halting gesture. "I don't need anybody else to die."
"You think me that stupid? No, I have information that would end his chance before it even starts."
He noticed an amused flicker sweep over Kane's face. His listener was a fast learner, already enjoying the arrangement. No surprise. If nothing else, Kane was adaptable. "Him out of the way now would make fund-raising much easier."
"Then call it a gift from a new ally. He'll be gone," he paused, "as soon as I'm sworn in on the Joint Chiefs."
FIFTY
RAMSEY WAS THRILLED. EVERYTHING HAD PLAYED OUT PRECISELY as he'd predicted. Aatos Kane might or might not be the next president but, if he managed the feat, Ramsey's legacy was assured. If Kane could not be elected, then at least he'd retire from the navy as a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Definitely a win-win.
He switched off the lights and headed upstairs. A few hours of sleep would be good, as tomorrow would be a critical day. Once Kane made contact with the White House the rumor mill would crank up. He had to be ready to fend off the press, neither denying nor confirming anything. This was a White House appointment and he must appear awed simply by the consideration. By the end of the day, spin doctors would leak news of his possible appointment to test reactions and, barring any great upheaval, by the following day rumor would become fact.
The phone in his robe's pocket rang. Odd at this hour.
He removed the unit and spotted no displayed identification.
Curiosity overtook him. He stopped on the staircase and answered the call.
"Admiral Ramsey, this is Isabel Oberhauser."
He was rarely surprised, but the pronouncement genuinely startled him. He caught the aged, gravelly voice, the English tinged with a German accent.
"You're quite resourceful, Frau Oberhauser. For some time now, you've tried to obtain information from the navy, and now you managed a direct call to me."
"It wasn't all that difficult. Colonel Wilkerson gave me the number. With a loaded weapon pointed at his skull, he was most cooperative."
His trouble had just multiplied.
"He told me a great many things, Admiral. He so wanted to live and he thought that by answering my questions he might have the chance. Alas, it was not to be."
"He's dead?"
"I saved you the trouble."
He wasn't about to admit anything. "What do you want?"
"Actually, I called to offer you something. But before I do, might I ask a question?"
He climbed the stairs and sat on the edge of his bed. "Go ahead."
"Why did my husband die?"
He caught a momentary flicker of emotion in her otherwise frigid tone and instantly realized this woman's weakness. He decided truth would be best. "He volunteered to go on a dangerous mission. One his father had also taken long before. But something happened to the submarine."
"You speak the obvious and haven't answered the question."
"We have no idea how the sub sank, only that it did."
"Did you find it?"
"It never returned to port."
"Again, not an answer."
"It's irrelevant whether it was found or not. The crew is still dead." "It matters to me, Admiral. I would have preferred to bury my husband. He deserved to be laid to rest with his ancestors."
Now he had a question. "Why did you kill Wilkerson?"
"He was nothing but an opportunist. He wanted to live off this family's fortune. I shall not have that. Also, he was your spy."
"You seem a dangerous woman."
"Wilkerson said the same thing. He told me that you wanted him dead. That you lied to him. Used him. He was a weak man, Admiral. But he did tell me what you said to my daughter. How did you put it? You can't imagine. That's what you said when she asked if there was anything to find in Antarctica. So answer my question. Why did my husband die?"
This woman thought she possessed the upper hand, calling him in the middle of the night, informing him that his station chief was dead. Bold, he'd give her that. But she was operating at a disadvantage since he knew far more than she did.
"Before your husband was approached about the voyage to Antarctica, both he and his father were thoroughly vetted. What spurred our interest was the Nazis' obsession with their research. Oh, yes, they found things down there in 1938-you know that. Unfortunately the Nazis were too single-minded to realize what they had found. They silenced your father-in-law. When he finally could speak, after the war, nobody was listening. And your husband failed to learn what his father had. So it all languished-until, of course, we came along."
"And what did you learn?"
He chuckled. "Now, what fun would it be to tell you that?"
"As I said, I called to offer you something. You sent a man to kill Cotton Malone and my daughter Dorothea. He invaded my home but underestimated our defenses. He died. I do not want my daughter harmed, as Dorothea is no threat to you. But Cotton Malone apparently is, since he is now privy to the navy's findings about the sinking of that submarine. Am I wrong?"
"I'm listening."
"I know precisely where he is and you do not."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because a few hours ago, in Aachen, Malone killed two men who had come to kill him. Men you also sent."
New information, as he'd yet to receive any reports from Germany. "Your information network is good."
"Ja. Do you want to know where Malone is?"
He was curious. "What game are you playing?"
"I simply want you out of our family business. You don't want us in your business, so let's separate ourselves."
He sensed, just as Aatos Kane had with him, that this woman could be an ally, so he decid
ed to offer her something. "I was there, Frau Oberhauser. In Antarctica. Just after the sub was lost. I dove in the water. I saw things."
"Things we can't imagine?"
"Things that have never left my mind."
"Yet you keep them secret."
"That's my job."
"I want to know that secret. Before I die, I want to know why my husband never came back."