Chapter 17 end

At the President's order, a Coast Guard helicopter transported an exhausted Michael Tolan, Corky Marlinson, and Rachel Sexton from the Washington Monument to the White House, where they were given a meal A hearty breakfast, a doctor's visit, and a choice of any of the fourteen bedrooms in the building to rest and refresh. They all accepted. Rachel couldn't believe how long she had slept.She turned on the TV and was surprised to see that President Herney had wrapped up his press conference.Rachel and others had previously offered to stand with him as he announced the disappointing meteorite event to the world.We all made this mistake together.But Herney insisted on bearing the burden alone.

"It's so sad," said a political analyst on television, "that it seems NASA hasn't found signs of life in space after all. This marks the second time in a decade that NASA has wrongly tested a meteorite." classified as showing signs of extraterrestrial life. However, this time, quite a few reputable folks were also duped." "Generally speaking," interjected another analyst, "I think the hoax the President has described tonight has had devastating effects on his career...however, given the situation at the Washington Monument this morning, I'd say Zach Hurney's chances of becoming president look better than ever."

The first analyst nodded. "Yes, there's no life in space, but Sexton's campaign is over, too. Now, with news of major economic issues troubling the Senator—" A knock on the door came to Rachel's ears. Michael, she expected, quickly turned off the TV.She hadn't seen him since breakfast.When they got to the White House, there was nothing Rachel could wish more than to fall asleep in his arms.Although she could see that Tolland was thinking the same thing, Corky ran in, sat down on Tolland's bed, and relentlessly recounted how he'd pissed himself to save the day.In the end, Rachel and Tolland were really exhausted, so they gave up and went out to find their bedrooms to rest.

At this point, Rachel was walking towards the door, looking at herself in the mirror, amused by the way she was dressed so ridiculously.The only thing she found to wear to bed was a Pennsylvania State jersey in the closet.The jersey hung crumpled to her knees like a man's pajamas. The knocking was still ringing. Rachel opened the door and was disappointed to see a woman from the U.S. Secret Service standing in the doorway.The female agent looked capable and smart in a blue casual dress. "Ms. Sexton, the gentleman in Lincoln's bedroom heard you put the TV on. He asked me to tell you that if you were awake..." She paused, raised her eyebrows, clearly looking at the White House high-rise The nightlife on board is very experienced.

Rachel's face was flushed red, and she was full of excitement, "Thank you." The agent led Rachel down an impeccably furnished hallway toward a modest doorway nearby. "This is the Lincoln Bedroom," the agent said, "and, outside this door, I always say, 'Sleep well, beware of ghosts.'" Rachel nodded.The Lincoln Bedroom haunted story is as old as the White House itself.Winston Churchill is said to have seen Lincoln's ghost here, as have many others, including Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, Amy Carter, actor Richard Dreyfuss , and servants and servants for decades.It is said that once President Reagan's pet dog barked for hours outside this door.

Thinking of the ghosts of historical figures, Rachel suddenly realized what a sacred place this room was.She suddenly felt embarrassed, standing here with her bare legs in her long football shirt, like some college girl who sneaked into the boy's room. "Is that appropriate?" she whispered to the agent. "I mean, this is the Lincoln bedroom." The agent blinked: "Our policy on this floor is 'ask nothing, tell nothing'." Rachel smiled. "Thank you." She reached out to grab the doorknob, already feeling what was going to happen next. "Rachel!" A nasal voice echoed down the corridor like a small circular saw.

Rachel and the agent turned to see Corky Mallinson limping toward them on crutches, his legs now professionally bandaged. "I can't sleep either!" Rachel was discouraged when she thought her romantic tryst was going to go nowhere. Corky's eyes surveyed the bright Secret Service employee, and he gave her a broad smile. "I like women in uniform." The agent pulled her civilian clothes aside to reveal a dangerous-looking sidearm. Corky was heartbroken. "Seriously," he said, turning to Rachel, "Mike's awake too? Are you going in?" Corky looked eager to join.

Rachel muttered, "Actually, Corky..." "Mr. Mallinson," interposed the agent, pulling a note from under her blouse, "this is from Mr. Tolland, according to which I have express orders to accompany you to the kitchen. Would you like to eat What, let our chef do what for you, and also ask you to explain to me in vivid detail how you escaped from death, using..." The agent hesitated for a moment, then made a grimace and read Start with this note, "... piss on yourself?" Apparently, the agent's words were magic.Corky immediately dropped his cane, put one arm on the woman's shoulder, and said, "Go to the kitchen, dear!"

The female agent reluctantly helped Corky limping away down the corridor, and Rachel was sure that Corky Marlinson must be happy in heaven. "Urine is the key," she heard him say, "because those goddam telencephalic olfactory lobes can smell everything!" It was dark in Lincoln's bedroom when Rachel entered.She was surprised to find that the bed was empty, that no one had moved.No Michael Tolland at all. In the soft light of an old-fashioned oil lamp by the bed, she could just make out the Brussels rug...the famous carved mahogany bed...a portrait of Lincoln's wife, Mary Todd...even Lincoln signing the Emancipation Proclamation The desk I used.

Rachel closed the door casually, feeling a gust of wind blowing over her bare legs.where is heAcross the room, a window was open, and white organza curtains fluttered in the wind.She went to close the window when there was a strange murmur from the closet. "M... Li..." Rachel turned around abruptly. "M... Mary..." the voice said again, "Is that you... Mary Todd Lyn... Ken?" Rachel quickly closed the window and turned to face the closet.Her heart was pounding even though she knew it was stupid, "Mike, I know it's you." "No..." the voice continued, "I'm not Mike...I'm...Abel."

Rachel put her hands on her hips. "Oh really? The real Abel?" There was a muzzled laugh, "Almost the real Abe...yeah." Rachel also laughed at this time. "S...scared," murmured a voice from the closet, "very...very...scared." "I'm not afraid." "Please be afraid..." the voice moaned, "For humans, fear and sexual arousal are closely linked." Rachel burst out laughing, "Is this your way of teasing?" "So...forgive...I..." the voice moaned, "I haven't been with a woman for many years...years..." "Obviously," said Rachel, flinging the door open. Michael Tolland stood before her with a mischievous grin on his lips.He looked very attractive in a navy blue satin pajamas.Rachel was startled when she saw the presidential seal adorning his chest, and then suddenly realized. "Presidential pajamas?" He shrugged: "These are all in the drawer." "This football shirt is all I have to wear?" "You should have chosen the Lincoln bedroom." "You should give it to me!" "I heard that the mattress is poor. It's all horsehair from the past." Tolland blinked, pointing to a packaged packet on the marble-topped table, "This one will make it up to you." Rachel was a little moved, "For me?" "I sent one of the President's aides out to find this for you. Just delivered. Don't shake." She carefully unpacked and took out the heavy things inside.Inside the package was a large crystal bowl with two ugly orange goldfish swimming in it.Rachel looked at him confused, disappointed. "You're joking, aren't you?" "Siloped," said Tolland proudly. "You buy me fish?" "This is a very rare Chinese kissing fish. Very romantic." "Fish is not romantic, Mike." "Say go to those guys. They'll be kissing non-stop for hours." "Is this another tease?" "I'm slow on romance. Can you rate my efforts?" "Let's talk about it later, Mike, fish mustn't be exciting. Try it with flowers." Tolland drew a bouquet of white lilies from behind. "I was looking for red roses," he said, "but I nearly got shot for sneaking into the rose garden." Tolland took Rachel in his arms, holding her close to him, inhaling the soft fragrance from her hair, feeling that the secret loneliness that had been deep in his heart for many years disappeared.He kissed her deeply, feeling her breasts rise and fall slightly.White lilies fell to their feet, and the barrier that Tolan had never realized he had built disappeared suddenly. The ghost is gone. At this moment, he felt Rachel lead him a little bit towards the bed, and she said softly in his ear: "You don't really think fish is romantic, do you?" "I do think it's romantic," he said, kissing her again. "You should really watch the jellyfish mating ritual. It's so passionate." Rachel let him lie flat on the horsehair mattress, and gently pressed her slender body on top of him. "And seahorses..." Tolland said.He savored her touch through his thin silk pajamas, his heart pounding, "The seahorse dance... an incredibly sexy dance of love." "Stop talking about fish," she said softly, unbuttoning his pajamas. "Can you tell me about the mating rituals of the higher primates?" "I don't do much research on primates," Tolland said with a sigh. Rachel took off her football shirt and said, "Okay, guys who study nature, I suggest you learn it now."