Turning, she smiled up at the handsome Korean soldier. He was large – but not too large – and muscular. Tasty.
“You were exceptional last night,” she grinned.
“Thank you,” he nodded. She ran her hand over his groin, feeling for the growing member beneath his pants.
“Tonight, I want you to fill me everywhere. Do you understand?” He looked down at her, his brows furrowing.
“I understand.”
“Good. Let’s not keep the president waiting. I need him to support me.”
“Yes, madam.”
“Madam President,” she smirked. “You should get used to saying that.”
He followed her down the hallway to the elevators, two other guards joining them. When they reached the lobby, a blinding array of cameras flashed in their faces. All the while, the woman smiled and waved.
Today would be her coming out party.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Moose, Ethan, Bodhi, Cade, and Frank stayed in the anteroom of the Oval Office while the president’s aide waited for Yu-Chuen. The Secret Service agents had been authorized to move her guards and any aides to another part of the White House, locking them behind closed doors.
They’d spent two hours briefing the president on the flight to D.C. He’d suspected something was up, but even the agency couldn’t put their finger on everything that was happening. There were so many moving parts no one seemed able to pinpoint what was happening.
That is, no one except the Voodoo Guardians.
“Remember, sir,” said Luke, following the president. “I’m your aide, and I must be present. You have to get her to admit to what she’s done in order for us to be certain she won’t win over her countrymen.”
“Not my first rodeo, Luke,” he smirked.
“Sorry, sir. Oh, by the way, I left a lemon cake from my grandmother with your secretary. She says to send you good wishes.”
“Man, I love that woman,” he grinned. “Did you know she sent a dozen cookies to each of my secret service men last year? That’s a helluva lot of cookies.”
“That’s my grandmother,” smirked Luke.
As they reached the door to the Oval Office, the president turned to Luke and nodded. He had the stealth vest on, just in case something got out of hand. But Luke was there to ensure that it didn’t, and the other men were just outside the second door.
“Here we go,” he whispered, nodding at Luke. “Mrs. Park.”
“Mr. President,” she said, smiling at him. She was a petite woman, barely reaching the president’s shoulders. She was wearing a yellow suit with a crisp white blouse and white high-heeled pumps. Her hair was twisted at the back of her head, her hands void of jewelry.
“Please, have a seat.” She looked at Luke standing stiff by the door and then turned to the president.
“I thought we agreed no aides in the room.” She attempted to smile, but the president thought it looked as though she might have gas.
“No, we agreed you would not have aides in the room. He’s not my aide. He’s my babysitter. Just ignore him,” said the president, looking down at his notes. He took the seat across from Yu-Chuen on the sofa, and the woman crossed her ankles, smiling at him.
“Very well. Right to business, then,” she nodded. “As you’re aware, my father was murdered just a few short months ago. I’ve become aware that it was my husband, General Park, who poisoned him over a long period of time. Of course, he cannot face the consequences of his actions because he too was murdered.”
“Seems you got a problem in your country, Yu.”
“Yu-Chuen, sir.”
“Right.”
“I am the rightful president of North Korea. I carry my father’s bloodline.”