CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
7:14 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
The Oval Office
The White House, Washington DC
He was in, and it was easy.
Gerry the Shark stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the proceedings. Beneath the scuffed leather of his shoes was the Seal of the President of the United States. He dug his right foot into the carpet a little deeper, and slid it forward and backward.
Yes. Rub their faces in it.
Just being in here had a strange effect on him. There was something surreal, dizzying, even intoxicating about it. It was the power. It made his head feel like it was spinning on his shoulders. He could be floating up near the ceiling, like a kid on laughing gas at the dentist’s office.
No, he would never be President of the United States. But it didn’t matter. He was the power beh
