Chapter 57
President Cheryl Kennelly looked like Olympia Dukakis: a tall, spare woman with patrician features, neatly coiffed silver hair, and a rod of steel up her spine. Her presence was commanding by merely entering the room. She’d been a highly-decorated Navy ship commander prior to her election.
Without a word, she handed a cell phone to Amy Franklin.
The agent read the screen, swore without apologizing, and handed it to Kate. Terry moved to look over her shoulder.
“No one should have this number,” Amy explained. “It isn’t registered to the President and the number is known only to family.”
Kate looked down at the screen.
“Deadly Death,” she read aloud. “Rikka,” she spoke into her own phone. “The President has just received an e-mail on her private phone that says, ‘Deadly Death
