Ice Fire A Thriller [Paperback]

Ice Fire

CHAPTER 1

JOCK BOUCHER SANG “ORANGEColored Sky” in the shower. For a federal district judge, he could do a pretty good imitation of Nat King Cole, his father’s favorite singer. He’d done a fair share of singing, humming, even whistling over the past two weeks since his swearing-in. It had been a long year with the congressional vetting process, but now it was over. His life’s work lay ahead of him, and it was his dream job. He smiled at the recollection that his first act as a member of the federal judiciary had probably been illegal as hell. He had recorded the President calling him at home to extend his congratulations. He’d been informed of the call in advance, of course. You don’t want the leader of the free world calling and getting a busy signal or no one at home. The President had pronounced his name correctly: boo-SHAY. Most people seeing before hearing it mispronounced it butcher. The President said he knew that the judge’s nickname, Jock, was bestowed after lettering in basketball, football, and track in college. The two spoke as if they knew each other, which in many ways they did: two men whose love of country could not be challenged. Judge Boucher did not correct the President’s error. He would have loved to have told him the true origins of his name:that his father, a black Cajun from the bayous of Louisiana, had named his son Jacques. The French pronunciation sounded almost like shock, but with accents of the Deep South and demonstration of athletic ability at an early age, Jock it became and Jock it was to this day.

The Senate confirmation process had gone smoothly; his credentials were lauded and deemed more than adequate tlS†