Stuart Woods - The Run

THE RUN [042-011-066-4.9]

By: Stuart Woods

Synopsis:

In this sequel to Grass Roots (1989), Woods gives us another strong and suspenseful political thriller. The novel's premise is certainly unusual, perhaps even slightly contrived: first, the vice-president of the U.S. reveals that he has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease; shortly thereafter, the president suffers a stroke that puts him in a coma, and the vice-president is forced to assume the presidency. Now Senator Will Lee is faced with a tough choice: announce his own candidacy for the presidency in 2000, or hold off in anticipation of taking over the vice-presidency. In lesser hands, this novel might have collapsed under the weight of its own setup, but Woods is a careful, talented writer, and he makes his unlikely premise seem entirely plausible. What follows is a clever, well-constructed story of political ambition and behind-the-scenes skulduggery that should please not only Woods' fans but anyone who loves good political fiction.

A NOVBL

STUART WOODS This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

the run. Copyright 2000 by Stuart Woods. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address HarperCollins Publishers Inc." 10 East 53rd Street, New York, NY 10022.

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FIRST EDITION

Printed on acid-free paper.

Designed by Phil Mazzone

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.

ISBN 0060191872

00 01 02 03 04 : /RRD 10987654321 This book is for Melody Miller United States Senator William Henry Lee IV and his wife, Katharine Rule Lee, drove away from their Georgetown house in their Chevrolet Suburban early on a December morning. There was the promise of snow in the air.

THE RUN

Kate sipped coffee from an insulated mug and yawned.

"Tell me again why we drive this enormous fucking car," she said.

Will laughed.

"I keep forgetting you're not a politician," he said.

"We drive it because it is, by my reckoning, the least offensive motor vehicle manufactured in the state of Georgia, and because Georgia car workers and their union have shown the great wisdom to support your husband's candidacy in two elections."

"Oh," she said.

"Now I remember."

"Good. I'm glad I won't have to put you in a home right before Christmas." He looked in the rearview mirror and saw another Suburban following them.

"They're there," he said.

"They're supposed to be."

"How did they know?"

"Because I called them last night and gave them our schedule."

The week before there had been a terrorist attack on CIA employees as they had left the Agency's building in McLean, Virginia, and certain Agency officials had been given personal protection for a time; Kate Rule was the deputy director for Intelligence, chief of all the Cia's analysts, and was, therefore, entitled.

"Oh," Will replied, sipping his own coffee and heading north toward College Park, Maryland, and its airport.

"They're not going to follow us all the way to Georgia, are they?"

"I persuaded them that wouldn't be necessary."

"Good."

"It's a little like having Secret Service protection, isn't it?" she nudged.

"Does it make you feel presidential?"

"Nothing is going to make me feel presidential, at least for another nine years."

"What about the cabinet? If Joe Adams is elected and wants you for Defense or State or something, will you leave the Senate?"

Joseph Adams was vice president of the United States and the way-out-in-front leader for the Democratic Party's nomination for president the following year.

"Joe and I have already talked about that. He says I can have anything I want, but he doesn't really mean it."

"I always thought Joe was a pretty sincere guy," Kate said.

"Oh, he is, and he was sincere with the half-dozen other guys he told the same thing. But I don't really have the foreign-policy credentials for State, and while I think I really could have Defense, I don't want it. I don't want to spend eight or even four years doing battle with both the military and Congress; the job killed James Forrestal and Les Aspin, and it's ground up a lot of others."

"What about Justice? Your work on the Senate Judiciary Committee should stand you in good stead for that."

"I think I could have Justice, if I were willing to fight for it tooth and nail, and there's a real opportunity to do some good work there."

"Well?"

"I think I'll stay in the Senate. Georgia's got a Republican governor at the moment, and if I left, he'd get to appoint my replacement, and we don't want that. Also, if Joe's elected, three or four top Senators will leave to join the administration, among them the minority leader, and I'd have a real good shot at that job. And if we can win the Senate back, then the job would be majority leader, and that is very inviting."

"It's the kind of job you could keep for the rest of your career," she said.

"It is."

"But you don't want to spend the rest of your career in the Senate, do you?"

"You know I love the Senate."

"Will, you've been awfully closemouthed about this, but I know damned well you want to be president."

"One of these days, sure," Will replied.

"You mean after Joe has served for eight years?"

"I'd only be fifty-seven. Why not? I might even appoint you director of Central Intelligence."

"Yeah, sure," she said.

"The world would fall on you."

"If Jack Kennedy could appoint Bobby attorney general, why couldn't I appoint my wife to be head of the CIA?"

"Well, it's a nice thought, anyway," she said.

"Listen, here's a thought; Joe's going to owe me after the election, and if I'm not going to ask him for a cabinet job, I could ask him to appoint you DCI."

"Would you really do that?"

"Let's just say that I know the candidate well and have the highest confidence in her. It's not as though you're not supremely well qualified."

"Mmmmm. I like the sound of it."

"Of course, I'd want my back scratched a lot if I pull this off, and I mean that in the literal, not the figurative sense."

"I'll start growing my nails now." She laughed.

"Promises, promises."

"I think about it sometimes," she said.

"Scratching my back? Less thought, more action!"

"No, I mean your being president."

"And what do you think when you think about it?"

"Mostly about what a huge pain in the ass being first lady would be."

"Oh, it might have its upside--weekends at Camp David, travel on Air Force One, that sort of thing."

"I'd have to make a lot of speeches, and you know how I hate doing that."

"Well, how about this? If Joe has already appointed you DCI, I could reappoint you. Then I could hire a first lady."

"Just run an ad, you mean?"

"Why not?"

"Well, I must admit, the idea of being appointed and then reappointed has its appeal, but the substitute wife doesn't."

"I'm glad to hear it." Will turned into the entrance of the little airport at College Park, which had been founded by the Wright Brothers and was located on the grounds of the University of Maryland. He drove down the taxiway to where his airplane was tied down, got out of the car, and unlocked the cabin door. The airplane was new, a Piper Malibu-Mirage, a six-seat, pressurized single engine aircraft, loaded with the latest equipment. Will had traded his elderly Cessna for it a couple of months before, and it made trips back to Georgia a lot faster and more comfortable.