The Prodigal Daughter Read online

  General Dixon was by her side. “Twenty-three minutes, ma’am.”

  “How are you feeling, General?” Florentyna tried to sound relaxed.

  “Better than the day I marched into Berlin as a lieutenant, ma’am.”

  Florentyna asked a staff major to check all three networks. She began to realize what Kennedy had been through over Cuba. The major pressed some buttons in front of him. CBS was showing a Popeye cartoon, NBC a basketball game, and ABC an old Ronald Reagan movie. She checked through everything on the little TV screen once again, but there was no change. Now she could only pray she would be given enough time to be proved right. She sipped at a cup of coffee that had been left at her elbow. It tasted cold and bitter. She pushed it to one side as President Parkin stormed into the room, followed by Brooks. The President was wearing an open-necked shirt, a sports jacket and check trousers.

  “What the hell is going on?” were his first words. Florentyna had stepped away from the President’s chair and General Dixon came forward once again.

  “Twenty minutes to go, ma’am.”

  “Now, brief me quickly, Florentyna,” demanded Parkin, taking his place in the President’s chair. She sat down on the President’s right and told him what she had done up to the moment he walked in.

  “You fool,” he shouted when she had finished. “Why didn’t you listen to Ralph? He would never have got us into this trouble.”

  “I am aware of exactly what the Secretary of State would have done presented with the same set of circumstances,” said Florentyna coldly.

  “General Dixon,” said the President, turning his back on Florentyna. “What is the exact position of your forces?” The general briefed President Parkin. Maps continually flashing up on the screen behind him showed the latest Russian position.

  “In sixteen minutes’ time the F11 bombers will be over enemy territory.”

  “Get me the President of Pakistan,” said Parkin, banging the table in front of him.

  “He’s holding on an open line,” said Florentyna quietly.

  The President grabbed the phone, hunched his shoulders over the table and started speaking in a confidential tone.

  “I’m sorry it’s worked out this way, but I have no choice but to reverse the Vice President’s decision. She didn’t understand the full implication of her actions. Now, I don’t want you to feel we’re deserting you. Be assured we will negotiate a peaceful withdrawal from your territory at the first possible opportunity,” said Parkin.

  “For God’s sake, you can’t desert us now,” said Bhutto.

  “I must do what is best for all of us,” replied Parkin.

  “Like you did in Afghanistan.”

  Parkin ignored the comment and slammed down the phone.

  “General?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Dixon, stepping forward.

  “How much time have I got?”

  The general looked up at the small digital clock suspended from the ceiling in front of him. “Eleven minutes and eighteen seconds,” he said.

  “Now listen and listen carefully. The Vice President took on too much responsibility in my absence and I must now find a way out of this mess without egg landing on all our faces. I’m sure you agree, General.”

  “Anything you say, Mr. President, but in the circumstances I’d stick with it.”

  “There are wider considerations that go beyond the military. So I want you to—”

  A shout went up from the far side of the room from a hitherto unknown colonel. For a moment he stopped even the President from speaking.

  “What is it?” shouted Parkin.

  The colonel now stood at attention. “The Russian fleet has turned back and is now heading south,” he said, reading a cable.

  The President was speechless. The unknown colonel continued: “The MIG 25s and SU 7s are flying northwest to Moscow.” A cheer went up, drowning out the rest of the colonel’s pronouncements. Telexes buzzed out confirmation all over the room.

  “General,” said Parkin, turning to the chairman, “we’ve won. It’s a triumphant day for you and America.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “And I want you to know that I’m proud to have led my country through this hour of peril.”

  No one in the Situation Room laughed and Brooks quickly added, “Congratulations, Mr. President.” Everyone started cheering again, while several personnel walked over to congratulate Florentyna.

  “General, bring your boys home. They’ve carried out a fantastic operation. Congratulations—you did a great job.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President,” said General Dixon. “But I feel the praise should go to—”

  The President turned to Ralph Brooks and said, “This calls for a celebration, Ralph. All of you will remember this day for the rest of your lives. The day we showed the world America couldn’t be pushed around.”

  Florentyna was now standing in the center as if she had had nothing to do with what had happened in that room. She left a few minutes later because the President continued to ignore her. She returned to her office on the second floor and put away the red file and slammed the cabinet closed. No wonder Richard had never voted Democratic.

  “A gentleman’s been waiting for you since seven-thirty,” were the first words the butler said when she returned to her home on Observatory Circle.

  “Good God,” said Florentyna out loud and rushed through to the drawing room where she found Edward, eyes closed, slumped on the sofa in front of the fire. She kissed him on the forehead and he woke immediately.

  “Ah, my dear, been rescuing the world from a fate worse than death, no doubt?”

  “Something like that,” said Florentyna, pacing up and down as she told Edward everything that had happened at the White House that evening. Edward had never seen her so angry.

  “Well, I’ll say one thing for Pete Parkin,” Edward said, when she had reached the end of her story. “He’s consistent.”

  “He won’t be after tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Precisely that. I’m going to hold a press conference in the morning to let everybody know exactly what happened. I’m sick and tired of his devious and irresponsible behavior, and I know that most people who were in the Situation Room tonight will confirm everything I’ve told you.”

  “That would be both rash and irresponsible,” said Edward, staring into the fire in front of him.

  “Why?” said Florentyna, surprised.

  “Because America would be left with a lame duck president. You might be the hero of the hour, but within days you would be despised.”

  “But—” began Florentyna.

  “No buts. On this occasion you’ll have to swallow your pride and be satisfied with using what happened tonight as a weapon to remind Parkin of his agreement over the one-term Presidency.”

  “And let him get away with it?”

  “And let America get away with it,” said Edward firmly.

  Florentyna continued pacing and didn’t speak for several minutes. “You’re right,” she said finally. “I was being shortsighted. Thank you.”

  “So might I have been if I had experienced what you went through at first hand.”

  Florentyna laughed. “Come on,” she said and stopped pacing for the first time. “Let’s have something to eat. You must be starving.”

  “No, no,” said Edward, looking at his watch. “Although I must confess, V.P., you’re the first girl who’s kept me waiting three and a half hours for a dinner date.”

  Early the next morning the President phoned her.

  “That was a great job you did yesterday, Florentyna, and I appreciate the way you carried out the earlier part of the operation.”

  “You hardly showed it at the time, Mr. President,” she said, barely controlling her anger.

  “I intend to address the nation today,” said Parkin, ignoring Florentyna’s comment, “and although this isn’t the time to tell them I shall not be seeking re-election, when the time does c