�Let�s call it a night, Bob,� he said, � I can�t focus for very much longer.�
�It�s been a long day,� agreed Secretary of Defense, General Robert Carter. He gently snapped his briefcase closed and rose to leave. Glancing at his watch, he said, �I�ll be leaving for Lebanon in the morning and let you know how things are looking on the front.�
�Sounds good. I look forward to hearing how it�s going first-hand.� Davis rose and leaned over to shake his hand.
�Good night, Mr. President.� Carter walked out the door, closing it behind him.
�Good night,� Davis mumbled absentmindedly before turning and crossing the room to the wine chest. He pulled out his favorite bottle of brandy and poured himself a drink.
The countless late nights, the days filled with conferences, meetings, and strategy sessions were all due to the ongoing battle with Lebanon. The war had been pushed by President Davis in an effort to establish a secure government in that barren, accursed land. Now, as he sipped his brandy and paced through the office, he wondered if it was all worth it. The war had been progressing rapidly until now but there was still a long way to go. A devout Christian, Davis believed that God had blessed the country with these victories and he prayed that God would continue to protect the U.S. troops.
He sighed and placed the now empty glass back on the try. These were not issues for a tired mind to think about. It was time to relax.
�G�night, Joe, Helen,� the President nodded to his two Secret Service agents outside the door as he began the brief walk to the private wing of the White House. Crossing through some of the outer offices, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks.
Far at the end of the hallway, seated at a desk, was the most gorgeous woman Davis had ever seen. Long legs led up to a thin waist and her low-cut blouse displayed cleavage provided by large, beautiful breasts. He was overcome with such intense, lustful desire that he yearned to run his hands through her thick, brown hair and take her to bed with him. Utterly entranced, he asked the nearest secretary who the woman was.
�Oh, that�s Susan Bathman, Mr. President,� the secretary answered. �She�s a new evening secretary. I�ve only talked to her once. Apparently her husband, I think his name is John, is in the army, serving in Lebanon.�
Davis thanked her and slowly continued down the hallway, watching Susan until she disappeared around the corner.
Once alone in his own quarters, Davis splashed cold water on his face in an attempt to rid his mind of her; but he could not. In everything he did, he saw her luscious body and his desire grew inside of him like a dam, ready to burst. Finally, the floodgates opened, and Davis gave in to his weaknesses. He rang for one of his attendants and had him send Susan to Davis� private study.
Anxiously, he paced the study a couple times before quickly sitting down in his favorite chair. He nearly jumped when there was a knock at the door.
�Come in,� he called.
The door opened and she walked in. More stunning when close up than when she was far away, Davis quickly turned his head when he realized that he had been staring fixedly at her chest. She smiled nervously, �You wanted to see me?�
�Yes, yes,� Davis replied, a bit flustered, �I just wanted you to know, Susan, how impressed I am with how quickly you have become a part of this administration. Please, come in. Go ahead and close the door behind you.�
The door did not open again until Susan left the next morning.
Their affair continued for several weeks, then months. Davis could not get enough of the young woman; she was a drug to him. Thoughts of her flitted in his brain at all time. Their relationship was a still kept secret and no one knew or suspected anything except for the Secret Service agents, but they could be trusted to keep things confidential. Occasionally, Davis would remember that Susan had a husband and feelings of guilt and shame would fill his heart; but it all flew away as soon as he saw her again.
The war in Lebanon was going better than ever: progress was being made and morale in the troops and on the home front was high. Sure there were always some protesters, but Davis� ratings were up as high as they had ever been and he could feel the support of the nation behind him. The U.S. troops had suffered very low casualties in comparison to the amount they had inflicted on the Lebanese military. A soft tap at the door brought him out of his thoughts. �Come in.�
The door creaked open and Susan slid inside. Davis was about to greet her when he noticed something amiss. His perceiving eyes watched as she quickly sat down and anxiously crossed and uncrossed her hands. Her face was scrunching up like she was about to cry, so he asked her, �What�s wrong?�
She did begin to cry, putting her face in her hands and sobbing softly. Davis went and put his arm around her, gently comforting her. He whispered soothingly, imploring, wondering what had happened.
Finally, she responded. �I�m pregnant, Jesse, I�m pregnant!� she cried and her tears began anew.
An icy chill rushed through Davis� body. Fear gripped his heart and panic began to rise in his throat, but he forced it down. �It�ll be all right,� he told her, �I�ll take care of everything. It�ll be all right. Don�t cry.� Eventually, her crying slowed, and then stopped. Davis assured her once more that he would take care of things; she dried her eyes and left quietly.
Once the door closed again, Davis whirled around and punched his chair with great force; he grabbed a nearby vase and hurled it across the room as hard as he could. The shattering crash brought him back to his senses and he shuddered as the red-hot fury drained out of him.
Now, thoughts rushed through his head as he bent to sweep up the scattered shards of porcelain. How could this happen? If she has the baby, it will be political suicide. This could not be hidden for long and the press would eat both Susan and Davis alive. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Bitterness and resentment slipped into his heart, dripping onto his soul. Davis wept and cried out to God, �How could you do this to me? I have followed you for my entire life, slipping only this once! And you bring my world crashing down on me? Everything I have worked so hard for? Why do you torture me?� His cries dropped into low, muted sobs.
But amongst the tears and shattered pieces, an idea began to form in his head. He began to pace the room, muttering to himself and frantically piecing thoughts together to form a plan. The only reason the scandal would break would be because of the baby; the baby would be a scandal because Susan�s husband has not been home; Susan�s husband was in Lebanon; President Davis was Commander in Chief of the U.S. armed forces! Davis chuckled softly to himself; it was too easy. He would bring Susan�s husband home so that he could spend time with his wife and, because it was still early in the pregnancy, no one would suspect that the baby wasn�t his. Excellent.