Her Secret Service (Jane Roe 1), Jason Letts [story reading .txt] 📗

this and I have no idea what she’ll do next. I suppose I should be thankful she toughed it out until after the election and the transition, but if this was going to be a peaceful and calm parting it already wouldn’t be like this at all. I dread having to tell the Justice Department that they get to pull double duty as my divorce lawyers,” he said.

“Mr. President,” Vice President Jeffreys said with a sigh, causing President Morrin to look up and raise his hand.

“Oh, I’m not giving up. Far from it. This is just me internalizing the reality. We’re going to keep fighting as hard as we can, because people can’t afford for us not to. No point being surprised though when a lot of people find the chance to jump on what they see as a wounded president to be too good to ignore.”

The way he said it had a lot of gumption to it and even some relish. It was easy to believe in him and imagine him finding a way to persevere no matter how badly he’d been hobbled by circumstances seemingly out of his control.

“Maybe you should just answer the young lady’s question,” Jeffreys said, raising an eyebrow at Jane.

“Yes, that’d be great,” Arundhati Singh said, and Jane wondered if the chief of staff felt nearly as out of place as she did considering what they just heard.

Morrin released an exasperated sigh, glanced over some papers on his desk, and fell back into his chair, leaning back as he gave Jane another long appraisal.

“The first thing is that it’s not biking. It’s cycling. And I’d much rather be riding for four or even five hours like I normally would, but I think two is the most I’ll be able to get away with,” he said.

Blinking rapidly, Jane leaped back into the mindset of getting the details she needed in the least amount of time possible.

“I’m not making any kind of argument about what you should or shouldn’t do. That’s for you to decide,” she said, wondering if she was talking a little too fast. “I’m just working on what kind of contingent is going to be most appropriate for this activity. Maybe you can start by telling me how fast you go,” she said.

“As fast as my Trek can carry me.”

His affecting smirk was more distracting than it should’ve been, but his answer wasn’t exactly that helpful.

“Thank you. And how long do you expect your route to be for a two-hour ride?” she asked. Seeing him leaning back, it was hard not to imagine him climbing onto a bike and pumping the pedals down the road, helmet on and in one of those tight jerseys.

“If it’s not at least fifty miles it’s not worth even getting out there,” he said, and Jane smiled.

At least that was a firm answer she could work with, but it presented some immediate problems. Were there any Secret Service agents who’d be able to sustain a speed of twenty-five miles per hour for two hours? Probably not, meaning some of the guys had some training in store for them, but that wasn’t even close to being all that would be necessary to ensure the president’s protection.

“Right. That’s very helpful,” Jane said. “With that kind of speed, in addition to any agents riding with you, we’re going to need a motorcade escort with vehicles in front, behind, and to the side at all times.”

The grimace on the president’s face couldn’t have been worse if she’d told him he had to ride a tricycle.

“I can’t have a car in front of me spewing exhaust fumes into my lungs the entire time. What are you trying to do, kill me?”

Jane winced, her teeth clenched, and she found herself slightly aggravated at the suggestion.

“No, that’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do,” she said, looking into his eyes and meaning every word of it. “But we will need at least one vehicle with a medical team on standby in case you fall or crash, preferably the presidential limo, which has an array of medical supplies and a refrigerator full of blood that can be used for a transfusion. That’s non-negotiable. Now did you have your heart set on riding anywhere in particular?”

She braced herself for an answer that involved the city. Even with months of prep work, there was real risk that blocking off fifty miles of city streets would be an impossibility, not to mention one where the chance of exposure could never be eliminated.

“Somewhere in the woods. It’s fine if I have to get up early to get out of town and start riding at first light. That’s all part of a cyclist’s gig.”

Jane smiled as the feeling of relief washed over her.

“Perfect. Let’s stick with Camp David then. Plenty of miles of road in a beautiful setting not too far away,” she said, wondering if she was selling it enough. It didn’t hurt that they could also ensure that there would be no other traffic in the area and that no matter where the president was on the loop they’d be a short distance from as much help as could ever be needed.

“Thank you, Ms. Roe,” President Morrin said, dismissing her with a dimply grin that was going to make it hard to leave. It felt like she was standing in cement.

“Mr. President,” Jane said, nodding and savoring one last look at him before turning to force herself to briskly exit the room.

By the time she and Singh made it back to the secretary’s room, Jane felt as stunned as if she’d just had a near-death experience. Despite attempts to keep herself calm, Singh seemed to notice that her cheeks seemed to be burning.

“Now you see what kind of an effect he can have on people,” she said with a hand on her hip. “That’s a face a lot of people have fallen in love with.”

Jane looked at the Indian woman in her forties smirking at her and kept