Tothecourageousmenandwomenwhoprotectusfromterrorandstanduptoviolence,hatred,andextremismnomatterthesource.Youinspireuseverydaytobebraver,tobebetter.
ThemostamazingthingthathashappenedinmylifetimeisneitherputtingamanonthemoonnorFacebookhaving2.8billionmonthlyactiveusers.Itisthatinthe75years,7months,and13dayssinceNagasaki,anuclearbombhasnotbeendetonated.—TomPetersCONTENTS
CHAPTER1
CHAPTER2
CHAPTER3
CHAPTER4
CHAPTER5
CHAPTER6
CHAPTER7
CHAPTER8
CHAPTER9
CHAPTER10
CHAPTER11
CHAPTER12
CHAPTER13
CHAPTER14
CHAPTER15
CHAPTER16
CHAPTER17
CHAPTER18
CHAPTER19
CHAPTER20
CHAPTER21
CHAPTER22
CHAPTER23
CHAPTER24
CHAPTER25
CHAPTER26
CHAPTER27
CHAPTER28
CHAPTER29
CHAPTER30
CHAPTER31
CHAPTER32
CHAPTER33
CHAPTER34
CHAPTER35
CHAPTER36
CHAPTER37
CHAPTER38
CHAPTER39
CHAPTER40
CHAPTER41
CHAPTER42
CHAPTER43
CHAPTER44
CHAPTER45
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER1
“MadameSecretary,”saidCharlesBoynton,hurryingbesidehisbossassherusheddownMahoganyRowtoherofficeintheStateDepartment.“YouhaveeightminutestogettotheCapitol.”
“It’stenminutesaway,”saidEllenAdams,breakingintoarun.“AndIhavetoshowerandchange.Unless…”ShestoppedandturnedtoherChiefofStaff.“Icangolikethis?”
Sheheldoutherarmstogivehimagoodlookather.Therewasnomistakingthepleainhereyes,theanxietyinhervoice,andthefactshelookedlikeshe’djustbeendraggedbehindapieceofrustyfarmequipment.
Hisfacecontortedinasmilethatseemedtocausehimpain.
Inherlatefifties,EllenAdamswasmediumheight,trim,elegant.AgooddresssenseandSpanxconcealedherloveofeclairs.Hermakeupwassubtle,bringingoutherintelligentblueeyeswhilenottryingtohideherage.Shehadnoneedtopretendtobeyoungerthanshewas,butneitherdidshewanttoappearolder.
Herhairdresser,whenapplyingthespeciallyformulatedcoloring,calledheran“EminenceBlonde.”
“Withallduerespect,MadameSecretary,youlooklikeahobo.”
“ThankGodherespectsyou,”whisperedBetsyJameson,Ellen’sbestfriendandcounselor.
Afteratwenty-two-hourdaythathadstartedwithSecretaryAdamshostingadiplomaticbreakfastattheAmericanembassyinSeoul,andincludedhigh-leveltalksonregionalsecurityandeffortstosalvageanunexpectedlycrumblingandvitaltradedeal,theendlessdayhadendedwithatourofafertilizerplantinGangwonProvince,thoughthathadbeenacoverforaquicktriptotheDMZ.
Afterthat,EllenAdamshadtrudgedontotheflighthome.Onceintheair,thefirstthingshe’ddonewasremovetheSpanxandpouralargeglassofChardonnay
She’dthenspentseveralhourssendingreportsbacktoherdeputiesandthePresident,andreadingtheincomingmemos.Oratleasttryingto.She’dfallenasleepfacedownonareportfromStateonstaffingintheIcelandembassy.
Shewokewithajerkwhenherassistanttouchedhershoulder.
“MadameSecretary,we’reabouttoland.”
“Where?”
“Washington.”
“State?”Shesatupandranherhandsthroughherhair,makingitstandstraightup,asthoughshe’dhadascareoraverygoodidea.
ShewashopingitwasSeattle.Torefuel,ortakeonfood,orperhapstherewassomefortuitousin-flightemergency.Therewasthat,sheknew,thoughitwasneithermechanicalnorfortuitous.
Theemergencywasthatshe’dfallenasleepandstillneededtoshowerand—
“DC.”
“OhGod,Ginny.Couldn’tyouhavewokenmeupsooner?”
“Itried,butyoujustmumbledandwentbacktosleep.”
Ellenhadavaguememoryofthatbuthadthoughtithadbeenadream.“Thanksfortrying.DoIhavetimetobrushmyteeth?”
Therewasadingasthecaptainputontheseatbeltsign.
“I’mafraidnot.”
Ellenlookedoutthewindowofhergovernmentjet,whichshejokinglycalledAirForceThree.ShesawthedomeoftheCapitolBuilding,whereshe’dsoonbeseated.
Shesawherselfinthereflection.Hairaskew.Mascarasmeared.Clothingdisheveled.Eyesbloodshotandburningfromhercontacts.Therewerelinesofworry,ofstress,thathadn’tbeentherejustamonthearlierattheinauguration.Thatbright,shinydaywhentheworldwasnewandallseemedpossible.
Howshelovedthiscountry.Thisglorious,brokenbeacon.
Afterdecadesofbuildingandrunninganinternationalmediaempirethatnowspreadacrosstelevisionnetworks,anall-newschannel,websites,andnewspapers,she’dhandeditovertothenextgeneration.Herdaughter,Katherine.
Afterthepastfouryearsofwatchingthecountryshelovedflailitselfalmosttodeath,shewasnowinapositiontohelpitheal.
SincethedeathofherbelovedQuinn,Ellenhadfeltherlifenotjustemptybutcallow.Insteadofdiminishingwithtime,thatsensehadgrown,thechasmwidening.Sheincreasinglyfelttheneedtodomore.Tohelpmore.Tonotreportonthepainbutdosomethingtoeaseit.Togiveback.
Theopportunityhadcomefromthemostunlikelysource:President-ElectDouglasWilliams.Howquicklylifecouldchange.Fortheworse,yes.Butalsoforthebetter.
AndnowEllenAdamsfoundherselfonAirForceThree.AsSecretaryofStateforthenewPresident.
Shewasinapositiontorebuildbridgestoalliesafterthenear-criminalincompetenceoftheformeradministration.Shecouldmendvitalrelationshipsorlaydownwarningstounfriendlynations.Thosethatmighthaveharminmindandtheabilitytocarryitout.
EllenAdamswasinapositiontonolongerjusttalkaboutchange,buttobringitabout.Toturnenemiesintofriendsandkeepchaosandterroratbay.
Andyet…
Thefacethatlookedbackathernolongerseemedquitesoconfident.Shewaslookingatastranger.Atired,disheveled,spentwoman.Olderthanheryears.Andperhapsalittlewiser.Orwasitmorecynical?Shehopednotandwonderedwhyitwassuddenlydifficulttotellthetwoapart.
Bringingoutatissue,shelickeditandwipedthemascaraaway.Then,aftersmoothingherhair,shesmiledatherreflection.
Itwasthefaceshekeptbythedoor.Theonethepublichadcometoknow.Thepress,hercolleagues,foreignleaders.Theconfident,gracious,assuredSecretaryofStaterepresentingthemostpowerfulnationonearth.
Butitwasafacade.EllenAdamssawsomethingelseinherghostlyface.Somethingghastlyshetookpainstohideevenfromherself.Butexhaustionhadallowedittoswarmoverherdefenses.
Shesawfear.Anditsclosekin,doubt.
Wasitrealorcounterfeit?Anearenemywhisperingshewasnotgoodenough.Notuptothejob.Thatshewouldscrewitup,andthousands,perhapsmillionsofliveswouldbejeopardized?
Sheshoveditaway,recognizingthatitwasunhelpful.Butitwhispered,evenasitreceded,thatthatdidn’tmeanitwasn’ttrue.
AftertheplanelandedatAndrewsAirForceBase,Ellenhadbeenhurriedintoanarmoredcar,toreadmorememos,reports,emails.DCglidedby,unseennow,asshegotcaughtup.
OnceinthebasementgarageofthemonolithicHarryS.TrumanBuilding,stillcalledFoggyBottombylongtimedenizens,maybeevenwithaffection,aphalanxformedtogetherintotheelevatoranduptoherprivateofficeontheseventhfloorasquicklyaspossible.
HerChiefofStaff,CharlesBoynton,metherattheelevator.HewasoneofthepeopleassignedtothenewSecretaryofStatebythePresident’sownChiefofStaff.Tallandgangly,hisslenderframewasduemoretoexcessivenervousenergythanexerciseorgoodeatinghabits.Hishairandmuscletoneseemedtobeinaracetojumpship.
Boyntonhadspenttwenty-sixyearsrisingthroughthepoliticalranks,finallylandingatopjobasastrategistonDouglasWilliams’ssuccessfulpresidentialcampaign.Acampaignthathadprovenmorebrutalthanmost.
CharlesBoyntonhadfinallyreachedtheinnersanctumandwasdeterminedtostaythere.Thiswashisrewardforfollowingorders.Andbeingluckyinhischoiceofcandidate.
Boyntonfoundhimselfdesigningrulestokeepunrulycabinetsecretariesinline.Inhisview,theyweretemporarypoliticalappointments.Windowdressingtohisstructure.
TogetherEllenandherChiefofStaffrusheddownthewood-paneledcorridorofMahoganyRowtowardtheSecretaryofState’soffice,trailedbyaidesandassistantsandherDiplomaticSecurityagents.
“Don’tworry,”saidBetsy,racingtocatchup.“They’reholdingtheStateoftheUnionaddressforyou.Youcanrelax.”
“No,no,”saidBoynton,hisvoicerisinganoctave.“Youcan’trelax.ThePresident’spissed.Andbytheway,it’snotofficiallyaSOTU.”
“Oh,please,Charles.Trynottobepedantic.”Ellenstoppedsuddenly,almostcausingapileup.Slippingoffhermud-cakedheels,sheraninstockingfeetalongtheplushcarpet.Pickingupherpace.
“AndthePresident’salwayspissed,”Betsycalledafterthem.“Oh,youmeanangry?Well,he’salwaysangryatEllen.”
Boyntonshotherawarningglance.
Hedidn’tlikethisElizabethJameson.Betsy.AnoutsiderwhoseonlyreasonforbeingtherewasbecauseshewasalifelongfriendoftheSecretary.BoyntonknewitwastheSecretary’srighttochooseonecloseconfidante,acounselor,toworkwithher.Buthedidn’tlikeit.Theoutsiderbroughtanelementofunpredictabilitytoanysituation.
Andhedidnotlikeher.PrivatelyhecalledherMrs.CleaverbecauseshelookedlikeBarbaraBillingsley,theBeaver’smotherintheTVshow.Amodel1950shousewife.
Safe.Stable.Compliant.
ExceptthisMrs.Cleaverturnedouttobenotsoblack-and-white.SheseemedtohaveswallowedBette“Fuck’EmIfTheyCan’tTakeaJoke”Midler.AndwhilehequitelikedtheDivineMissM,hethoughtperhapsnotastheSecretaryofState’scounselor.
ThoughCharlesBoyntonhadtoadmitthatwhatBetsysaidwastrue.DouglasWilliamshadnoloveforhisSecretaryofState.Andtosayitwasmutualwasanunderstatement.
IthadcomeasahugeshockwhenthenewlyelectedPresidenthadchosenapoliticalfoe,awomanwho’dusedhervastresourcestosupporthisrivalforthepartynomination,forsuchapowerfulandprestigiousposition.
ItwasanevengreatershockwhenEllenAdamshadturnedhermediaempireovertohergrowndaughterandacceptedthepost.
Thenewswasgobbledupbypoliticos,pundits,colleagues,andspitoutasgossip.Itfedandfilledpoliticaltalkshowsforweeks.
TheappointmentofEllenAdamswasfodderatDCdinnerparties.ItwasallanyoneatOfftheRecord,thebasementbaroftheHay-Adams,couldtalkabout.
Whydidsheaccept?
Thoughbyfarthegreater,moreinterestingquestionwaswhyhadthenPresident-ElectWilliamsofferedhismostvocal,mostviciousadversaryaplaceinhiscabinet?AndState,ofallthings?
TheprevailingtheorywasthatDouglasWilliamswaseitherfollowingAbrahamLincolnandassemblingaTeamofRivals.Or,morelikely,hewasfollowingSunTzu,theancientmilitarystrategist,andwaskeepinghisfriendsclosebuthisenemiescloser.
Though,asitturnedout,boththeorieswerewrong.
ForhispartCharlesBoynton,Charlestohisfriends,caredabouthisbossonlytotheextentthatEllenAdams’sfailuresreflectedbadlyonhim,andhewasdamnedifhe’dbeclingingtohercoattailsasshewentdown.
AndafterthistriptoSouthKorea,herfortunes,andhis,hadtakenasharpturnsouth.Andnowtheywereholdinguptheentirefuckingnot–StateoftheGoddamnedUnion.
“Comeon,comeon.Hurry.”
“Enough.”Ellenskiddedtoastop.“Iwon’tbebulliedandherded.IfIhavetogolikethis,sobeit.”
“Youcan’t,”saidBoynton,hiseyeswidewithpanic.“Youlook—”
“Yes,you’vealreadysaid.”Sheturnedtoherfriend.“Betsy?”
TherewasapauseduringwhichalltheycouldhearwasBoyntonsnortinghisdispleasure.
“Youlookfine,”Betsysaidquietly.“Maybesomelipstick.”ShehandedEllenatubefromherownpursealongwithahairbrushandcompact.
“Comeon,comeon,”Boyntonpracticallysqueaked.
HoldingEllen’sbloodshoteyes,Betsywhispered,“Anoxymoronwalkedintoabar…”
Ellenthought,thensmiled.“Andthesilencewasdeafening.”
Betsybeamed.“Perfect.”
Shewatchedasherfriendtookadeepbreath,handedherbigtravelbagtoherassistant,andturnedtoBoynton.
“Shallwe?”
Whilesheappearedcomposed,SecretaryAdams’sheartwaspoundingasshewalkedinstockingfeet,afilthyshoedanglingfromeachhand,backdownMahoganyRowtotheelevator.Andthedescent.
“Hurry,hurry.”Amirgesturedtohiswife.“They’reatthehouse.”
Theycouldhearthebangingbehindthem,themenshouting,commanding.Theirwordsheavilyaccentedbuttheirmeaningclear:“Dr.Bukhari,comeout.Now.”
“Go.”AmirshovedNasrindownthealley.“Run.”
“You?”sheasked,clutchingthesatcheltoherchest.
TherewasthesplinteringofwoodasthedoortotheirhomeinKahuta,justoutsideIslamabad,wasshattered.
“Theydon’twantme.It’syoutheyneedtostop.I’lldistractthem.Go,go.”
Butassheturned,hegrabbedherarmandpulledhertohim,clutchinghertohischest.“Iloveyou.I’msoproudofyou.”
Hekissedhersohardtheirteethcollidedandshecouldtastebloodfromhercutlip.Butstillsheclungtohim.Andhetoher.Atthesoundsofmoreshouts,closernow,theyparted.
Healmostaskedhertolethimknowwhenshewassafelyatherdestination.Butdidn’t.Heknewshecouldnotcontacthim.
Healsoknew,asdidshe,thathewouldnotsurvivethenight.
CHAPTER2
TherewasamurmurastheDeputySergeantatArmsannouncedthearrivaloftheSecretaryofState.Itwastenpastnine,andtherestofthecabinethadalreadybeenseated.
TherehadbeenspeculationthatEllenAdamswasmissingbecauseshewastheDesignatedSurvivor,thoughmostbelievedPresidentWilliamswouldchoosehissockbeforehe’dchooseher.
Assheenteredthechamber,Ellenappearednottonoticethedeafeningsilence.
Anoxymoronwalkedinto…
Sheheldherheadupandfollowedherescort,smilingtoRepresentativesgatheredoneachsideoftheaisle,asthoughnothingwerewrong.
“You’relate,”hissedtheSecretaryofDefensewhenshetookherplaceinthefrontrow,betweenhimandtheDirectorofNationalIntelligence.“Weheldthespeechforyou.ThePresident’sfurious.Thinksyoudiditonpurpose,sothenetworkswouldbefocusedonyouandnothim.”
“ThePresidentwouldbewrong,”saidtheDirectorofNationalIntelligence,theDNI.“There’snowayyou’ddothat.”
“Thankyou,Tim,”saidEllen.ItwasarareshowofsupportfromoneofPresidentWilliams’sloyalists.
“GiventheshitshowthatwasSouthKorea,”TimBeechamcontinued,“Ican’timagineyou’dwanttheattention.”
“WhatinGod’snameareyouwearing?”askedtheSecretaryofDefense.“Haveyoubeenmudwrestlingagain?”
Hegrimacedandscruncheduphisnose.
“No,Mr.Secretary,I’vebeendoingmyjob.Andsometimesthatmeansgettingdownanddirty.”Shegavehimtheonce-over.“You’relookingaspristineasever.”
Onherotherside,theDNIlaughed,andthentheyallstoodastheSergeantatArmsannounced,“Mr.Speaker,thePresidentoftheUnitedStates.”
Dr.NasrinBukharirandownthefamiliaralleys,swervingtoavoidthecratesandcansthatlitteredtheareaandifkickedwouldgiveheraway.
Sheneverpaused.Neverlookedback.Notevenwhenthegunfirebegan.
Shedecidedthatherhusbandoftwenty-eightyearshadescaped.Hadsurvived.Hadeludedthosesenttotrytostopthem.Tostopher.
Hehadn’tbeenkilledor,worse,captured,tobetortureduntilhegaveupwhatheknew.
Whenthegunfirestopped,shetookthatasasignthatAmirhadgottensafelyaway.Asshenowmust.
Everythingdependedonit.
Halfablockshortofthebusstop,shesloweddown,caughtherbreath,andwalkedwithacalm,measuredpacetojointheline.Herheartpounding,butherfaceplacid.
AnahitaDahirsatatherdeskintheBureauofSouthandCentralAsianAffairsattheStateDepartment.
Shepausedinwhatshewasdoingtowalkovertothetelevisiononthefarwall,tunedtothePresident’sspeech.
Itwasninefifteen.Theaddresswaslate,heldup,thecommentatorssaid,bytheabsenceoftheSecretaryofState,Anahita’snewboss.
ThecamerafollowedthenewlyelectedPresidentashearrivedintheornatechamber,towildapplausefromhissupportersandmutedclappingfromthestill-bruisedopposition.Sincehe’donlybeensworninweeksearlier,itwasdifficulttobelievePresidentWilliamsactuallyknewthetruestateoftheunion,andthathewaslikelytoadmititevenifhedid.
Thespeechwouldbe,thepunditsagreed,abalancingactbetweencriticizingthepreviousadministrationforthemessleftbehind,thoughnottooovertly,andsoundingahopefulnote,thoughnottoooptimistic.
Thiswasabouttampingdowntheextravagantexpectationsraisedintheelection,whiledeflectinganyblame.
PresidentWilliams’sappearancebeforeCongresswaspoliticaltheater,akindofKabuki.Moreaboutappearancesthanwords.AndDouglasWilliamscertainlyknewhowtolookpresidential.
Though,asAnahitawatchedhimglad-handhiswayintothechamber,greetingandsmilingatpoliticalfriendsandfoesalike,thecamerakeptcuttingawaytotheSecretaryofState.
Thiswastherealdrama.Therealstoryofthenight.
ThecommentatorsweregiddywithspeculationonwhatPresidentWilliamswoulddowhenhecameface-to-facewithhisSecretaryofState.EllenAdams,theywerepleasedtopointout,andrepeat,andrepeat,wasjustofftheplanefromadisastrousfirstouting,whereshemanagedtoalienateanimportantallyanddestabilizeanalreadyfragileregion.
Themomentthetwomet,hereinthechamber,wouldbeseenbyhundredsofmillionsinternationallyandreplayedoverandoveronsocialmedia.
Thechamberwascracklingwithanticipation.
Thecommentatorsleanedforward,anxioustodecodewhatevermessagethePresidentmightsend.
Theyoungforeignserviceofficerwasaloneinthedepartment,exceptforthesupervisorinhiscorneroffice.Shesteppedclosertothescreen,interestedtoseewhatwouldhappenbetweenhernewPresidentandhernewboss.Shewassocaptivatedthatshefailedtohearthepingofamessagecomingin.
WhilePresidentWilliamsmadehiswayforward,stoppingtochatandwave,thepoliticalcommentatorsfilledthetimebydiscussingEllenAdams’shair,hermakeup,herclothes,whichweredisheveledandsmearedwithwhattheyhopedwasmud.
“Shelookslikeshejustcamefromarodeo.”
“Andintoaslaughterhouse.”
Morechuckling.
FinallyoneofthecommentatorspointedoutthatSecretaryAdamsprobablyhadn’tplannedtoarrivelookinglikethat.Itwasatestamenttohowhardshewasworking.
“She’sjustofftheplanefromSeoul,”heremindedthem.
“Where,weunderstand,talksbrokedown.”
“Well,”headmitted,“Isaidshewasworkinghard,noteffectively.”
Thentheydiscussed,ingrimtones,justhowdisastrousherfailureinSouthKoreamightprove.ForSecretaryAdams,forthenascentadministration.Fortheirrelationsinthatpartoftheworld.
Thistoowaspoliticaltheater,theFSOknew.Therewasnowayoneunfortunatemeetingwouldleadtopermanentdamage.Butasshewatchedhernewboss,sheknewthatdamagehadbeendone.
Whilefairlynewtothejob,AnahitaDahirwasastuteenoughtoknowthatinWashington,appearanceswereoftenfarmorepowerfulthanreality.Infact,sostrongweretheythattheycouldactuallycreatereality.
ThecameralingeredonSecretaryAdamsasthecommentatorspickedherapart.
Unlikethepundits,whatAnahitaDahirsawwasawomanabouthermother’sagestandingerect,straight-backed,headhigh,attentive.Respectful.Turnedtowardthemancomingherway.Calmlyawaitingherfate.
Herdisheveledstateonlyseemedtoadd,inAnahita’seyes,toherdignity.
Upuntilthatmoment,theyoungFSOhadbeenhappytoabsorbwhatthecommentatorsandherfellowanalystssaid.ThatEllenAdamswasacynicalpoliticalappointmentbyacraftyPresident.
Butnow,asshewatchedPresidentWilliamsapproachandSecretaryAdamsbraceherself,Anahitawondered.
TheFSOhitmuteonthetelevision.Therewasnoneedtolistentomore.
Shewalkedbacktoherdeskandnoticedthenewmessage.Openingit,shesawthatwherethesender’snamewouldbe,therewerejustrandomletters.Andinthemessageitselftherewerenowords,justaseriesofnumbersandsymbols.
AsthePresidentapproached,EllenAdamsthoughthewasgoingtoignoreher.
“Mr.President,”shesaid.
Hepausedandlookedbeyondher,throughher,noddingandsmilingatthepeopleoneitherside.Thenhereachedpasther,hiselbowalmosthittingherface,totakethehandofthepersonbehind.Onlythendidheslowly,slowlybringhiseyestohers.TheanimositywassopalpablethatboththeSecretaryofDefenseandtheDirectorofNationalIntelligenceretreatedastep.
“Pissed”didn’tbegintodescribehowhewasfeeling,andtheydidnotwanttobehitwiththesplash.
Tothecamerasandthemillionswatching,hishandsomefacewasstern,moredisappointedthanangry.Asadparentlookingatawell-meaningbutwaywardchild.
“MadameSecretary.”Youincompetentshit.
“Mr.President.”Youarrogantasshole.
“PerhapsyoucancomebytheOvalOfficeinthemorningbeforethecabinetmeeting.”
“Withpleasure,sir.”
Hepassedon,leavinghertolookafterhimwarmly.Aloyalmemberofhiscabinet.
Takingherseat,shelistenedpolitelywhilePresidentWilliamsbeganhisaddress.Butasitprogressed,Ellenfeltherselfdrawnin.Notbytherhetoric,butbysomethingfarmoreprofoundthanwords.
Itwasthesolemnity,thehistory,thetradition.Shewassweptupinthemajesty,inthequietgrandeur,thegraceofthisevent.Inthesymbolism,ifnottheactualcontent.
Apowerfulmessagewasbeingsenttofriendsandfoesalike.Ofcontinuity,ofstrength,ofresolveandpurpose.Thatthedamagedonebytheformeradministrationwouldberepaired.ThatAmericawasback.
EllenAdamsfeltanemotionsostrongitoverwhelmedherdislikeofDouglasWilliams.Itpushedherdistrustandsuspicionsaway,leavingonlypride.Andamazement.Thatsomehow,lifehadbroughtherhere.Hadputherinapositiontoserve
Shemightlooklikeahoboandsmelllikefertilizer,butshewastheAmericanSecretaryofState.Shelovedhercountryandwoulddoeverythinginherpowertoprotectit.
Dr.NasrinBukharitookherseatonthebackrowofthebusandforcedherselftolookstraightahead.Notoutthewindow.Notatthesatchelonherlap,heldinawhite-knuckledgrip.
Notatherfellowpassengers.Itwasvitaltoavoideyecontact.
Sheforcedherfacetolookneutral,bored.
Thebusstartedupandbegantobumpitswaytowardtheborder.Ithadbeenarrangedthatshewouldflyout,butwithouttellinganyone,includingAmir,she’dchangedtheplan.Thepeoplesenttostopherwouldexpecthertotrytogetoutasquicklyaspossible.They’dbeattheairport.They’dputpeopleonalltheflightsifneedbe.They’ddoanythingtopreventherreachingherdestination.
IfAmirwascapturedandtortured,he’drevealtheplan.Soithadtochange.
NasrinBukharilovedhercountry.Shewoulddowhateverwasnecessarytoprotectit.
Andthatmeantleavingallshelovedbehind.
AnahitaDahirstaredatthecomputerscreen.Browsdrawntogether,shetookjustafewsecondstodecidethemessagewasspam.Ithappenedmoreoftenthananyonewouldguess.
Still,shewantedconfirmation.Knockingonhersupervisor’sdoor,sheleanedin.Hewaswatchingthespeechandshakinghishead.
“What?”
“Amessage.Ithinkit’sspam.”
“Letmeseeit.”
Sheshowedhim.
“It’sdefinitelynotfromanyofoursources?”
“Definitely,sir.”
“Good.Deleteit.”
Whichshedid.Butnotbeforejottingdownthemessage.Justincase.
19/0717,38/1536,119/1848
CHAPTER3
“Congratulations,Mr.President.Thatwentwell,”saidBarbaraStenhauser.
DougWilliamslaughed.“Itwentverywell.BetterthanIcouldhavehoped.”
Heloosenedhistieandputhisfeetuponthedesk.
TheywerebackintheOvalOffice.Abarhadbeensetup,alongwithlightsnacksforthefamily,friends,andaffluentsupportersinvitedbacktocelebratethePresident’sfirstaddresstoCongress.
Williams,though,wantedafewmomentsalonewithhisChiefofStaff,todecompress.Thespeechhaddoneeverythinghe’dwanted,andmore.Butitwassomethingelsethatwasmakinghimalmostgiddy.
Heentwinedhishandsbehindhisheadandrocked,whileastewardbroughthimascotchandasmallplateofbacon-wrappedscallopsanddeep-friedshrimp.
HegesturedtoBarbtojoinhimand,thankingthesteward,heindicatedheshouldleave.
BarbStenhausersatandtookalongsipofredwine.
“Canshesurvivethis?”heasked.
“Idoubtit.We’llletthemediahaveather.FromwhatIsawbeforeyourspeech,they’dalreadybegun.She’llbedeadbeforeshegetshome.Justtobesure,I’velinedupafewofourownSenatorstostartexpressingguardedconcernaboutherfitnessforthejob,giventheshitshowinSouthKorea.”
“Good.Where’ssheheadingnext?”
“IhaveherscheduledtogotoCanada.”
“OhGod.We’llbeatwarwiththembeforetheweek’sout.”
Barblaughed.“Let’shope.I’vealwayswantedaplaceinQuébec.Earlyreportsareextremelypositiveaboutyourspeech,sir.They’recitingyourdignifiedtone,yourreachingacrosstheaisle.Buttherearerumblings,Mr.President,thattheappointmentofEllenAdams,whilecourageous,wasamisstep,especiallyafterthedebacleofSouthKorea.”
“Alittleblowbackinourdirectionistobeexpected.Aslongasmostoftheshitlandsonher.Besides,it’llgivecriticssomethingtofocusonwhilewegetonwiththejob.”
Stenhausersmiled.Rarelyhadsheseensoaccomplishedapolitician.Onewiththecouragetotakeafleshwoundifitmeantkillingoffanopponent.
Thoughsheknewhewasinforfarmorethanafleshwound.
ThefactthatDouglasWilliamsmadeherskincrawlwassomethingshecouldignore,ifitmeantfinallyimplementinganagendashebelievedinwithallherheart
Leaningacrossthedesk,shehandedhimasheetofpaper.“I’vepreparedashortstatementsupportingSecretaryAdams.”
Hereadit,thentosseditback.“Perfect.Dignified,butnoncommittal.”
“Faintpraise.”
Helaughed,thensighedwithrelief.“Fliponthetelevision.Let’sseewhatthey’resaying.”
Hetippedforwardandplacedhiselbowsonthedeskasthelargemonitorlitup.He’dbeentemptedtotellhisChiefofStaffjusthowcleverhe’dreallybeen.Buthedidn’tdare.
“Here.”
KatherineAdamshandedhermotherandhergodmotherlargeglassesofChardonnay;then,grabbingthebottlebytheneck,shetookherownglasstothelargesofaandsatbetweenthem.Threepairsofslipperedfeetwereuponthecoffeetable
Katherinereachedfortheremote.
“Notyet,”saidhermother,layingahandonherdaughter’swrist.“Let’spretendforafewmoremomentsthatthey’retalkingaboutmytriumphinSouthKorea.”
“Andcongratulatingyouonyournewhairstyleanddresssense,”saidBetsy.
“Andperfume,”saidKatherine.
Ellenlaughed.
Assoonasshe’dgottenhome,she’dshoweredandchangedintosweats.Nowthethreewomensat,sidebyside,inthecomfortableden.Thewallswerecoveredinshelves,filledwithbooksandframedphotographsofEllen’schildrenandherlifewithherlatehusband.
Itwasaprivatespace,asanctuaryreservedforfamilyandtheclosestoffriends.
Wearingglassesnow,Ellenhadpulledoutafolderandwasreading,shakingherhead.
“What’swrong?”askedBetsy.
“Thetalks.Theyshouldn’thavecollapsed.Theadvanceteamdidgoodwork.”Sheheldupthepapers.“Wewereprepared.TheSouthKoreanswereprepared.I’dhadconversationswithmycounterpart.Thiswassupposedtobeaformality.”
“Sowhathappened?”askedKatherine.
Hermothersighed.“Idon’tknow.I’mtryingtofigurethatout.Whattimeisit?”
“Eleventhirty-five,”saidKatherine.
“Twelvethirty-fiveintheafternooninSeoul,”saidEllen.“I’mtemptedtocall,butwon’t.Ineedmoreinformation.”SheglancedatBetsy,whowasscrollingthroughmessages.“Anything?”
“Lotsofsupportiveemailsandtextsfromfriendsandfamily,”saidBetsy.
Ellencontinuedtolookather,butBetsyshookherhead,knowingwhatEllenwasasking,andnotasking.
“Icanwritehim,”offeredKatherine.
“No.Heknowswhat’shappening.Ifhewantedtogetintouch,hewould.”
“Youknowhe’sbusy,Mom.”
Ellenpointedtotheremote.“Mightaswellturnonthenews.Getitoverwith.”
Whatappearedonthetelevisionwouldserve,bothBetsyandKatherineknew,asacounterirritant,takingEllen’smindoffthemessagethathadnotappearedonherphone.
EllenAdamscontinuedtoreadthroughthereports,tryingtofindsomeclueastowhathadgonewronginSeoul.Onlyhalflisteningtotheso-calledexpertsonthetelevision.
Sheknewwhatthey’dbesaying.Evenherowncompany’smediaoutlets,theinternationallysyndicatednewschannel,thepapers,theonlinesites,wouldbetakingarunattheirformerowner.
Infact,inanefforttoprovetheywereunbiased,they’dbefirsttopileon.Andpilehigh.Ellencouldalreadysmelltheopinionpieces.
Whenshe’dacceptedthepositionofSecretaryofState,Ellenhaddivestedherselfofherholdings,turningthemovertoherdaughterwiththeexpress,andwritten,orderthatKatherineAdamsnotpersonallyinterfereinanycoverageoftheWilliamsadministrationgenerally,orSecretaryAdamsspecifically.
Itwasapledgeherdaughterhadfoundeasytomake.Afterall,shewasn’tthejournalistinthefamily.Herdegree,herexpertise,herinterestwasonlyinthebusinessside.Shetookafterhermotherinthat.
BetsytouchedEllen’sarmandnoddedtowardthetelevision.
Lookingupfromherpapers,shewatchedforamoment,thensatupstraighter.
“Oh,fuck,”saidDougWilliams.“Areyoukiddingme?”
HeglaredathisChiefofStaffasthoughexpectinghertodosomethingaboutit
WhatBarbStenhauserdidwaschangechannels.Thenagain.Andagain.Butsomehow,betweenPresidentWilliams’sStateoftheUnionAddressandhissecondglassofscotch,somethinghadshifted.
Katherinestartedlaughing,hereyesgleaming.
“MyGod,everychannel.”Sheclickedthroughthemall,restingoneachjustlongenoughtohearthepunditsandpoliticalyobscongratulatingSecretaryAdamsonherhardwork.HerwillingnesstoshowupattheCapitolunkempt,withthemuckofherjobstillclingingtoher.
Yes,thetriphadbeenanunexpecteddebacle,butthelargermessagewasthatEllenAdams,andbyextensiontheUS,wasunbowed.Willingtogetintothetrenches.Toshowup.Toatleasttrytoundothedamagedonebyfouryearsofchaos.
HerfailureinSouthKoreawasbeingblamedonthemessleftbehindbyanineptformerPresidentandhisownSecretaryofState.
NowKatherineletoutahoot.“Lookatthis.”SheshovedherphoneinfrontofhermotherandBetsy.
Amemehadgoneviralonsocialmedia.
Afterbeingintroduced,SecretaryAdamswalkeddowntheaisletowardherseatfortheaddress,thetelevisioncamerapickinguparivalSenatorwho’dlookedatherwithdisdainandmuttered:
“Dirtywoman.”
“Whatthehell!”saidDougWilliams,tossingashrimpontohisplatesoharditbouncedontotheResolutedesk,thenjumpedshipandlandedonthecarpet.“Shit.”
Lyinginbed,AnahitaDahirhadathought.
SupposethestrangemessagewasfromGil?
Yes.ItcouldhavebeenGil.Wantingtogetbackintouch.Totouch.
Shecouldfeelhisskin,moistwithperspirationfromthosehot,hot,stickycloseIslamabadafternoons.They’dstolenawaytohersmallroom,almostexactlymidwaybetweenhisdeskatthewireserviceandherdeskattheembassy.
Shewassojuniornoonewouldnoticeshewasmissing.GilBaharwassorespectedajournalistnoonewouldquestionhisabsence.They’dassumehewasoffchasingalead.
Intheclose,close,claustrophobicworldofthePakistanicapital,clandestinemeetingswereheldalldayandallnight.Betweenoperativesandagents.Betweeninformantsandthosewhotraffickedininformation.Betweendealersandusers,ofdrugs,ofarms,ofdeath.
Betweenembassystaffandjournalists.
Itwasaplaceandtimewhereanythingcouldhappenatanymoment.Theyoungjournalistsandaidworkers,doctorsandnurses,embassystaffandinformantsmetandmingledinundergroundbars,intinyapartments.Atparties.Theybumpedupagainsteachother.Groundupagainsteachother.
Lifearoundthemwaspreciousandprecarious.Andtheywereimmortal.
Herbodymoved,rhythmically,inherDCbed,feelingagainhishardbodyagainsthers.Hishardbodyinsidehers.
AfewminuteslaterAnahitagotup.Andthoughsheknewshewasaskingfortrouble,stillshereachedforherphone.
Didyoutrytomessageme?
Shewokeupnowandthenthroughthenighttocheckherphone.Noreply.
“Idiot,”shemuttered,evenasshesmelledagainhismuskiness.Felthisnakedwhiteskinasitslidagainstherdark,moistbody.Bothluminousintheafternoonsun.
Shecouldfeeltheweightofhimontopofher.Lyingheavyonherheart.
NasrinBukharisatinthedeparturelounge.
Awearyguardattheborderhadcheckedherpassport,failingtopickuponthefactitwasfake.Orperhapshedidn’treallycareanymore.
He’dlookeddownatthedocument,thenintohereyes.Hesawanexhaustedmiddle-agedwoman.Hertraditionalhijabwashedoutandfrayedwhereitframedherlinedface.
Surelynothreat.He’dmovedon.Tothenextpassengerdesperatetocrossthefrontierfromthreattofragilehope.
Dr.Bukhariknewthatinhersatchelshecarriedthathope.Inherheadshecarriedthatthreat.
She’dmadeittotheairportwiththreehourstosparebeforeherflight.Itwas,shenowrealized,perhapsalittletoomuchtime.
NasrinBukharipositionedherselftobeabletosee,inherperipheralvision,themanloungingagainstthewallacrosstheconcourse.He’dbeenatsecurityasshe’dcheckedthrough.He’dfollowedher,shewasalmostcertain,tothewaitingarea.
She’dbeenlookingforaPakistani.AnIndian.AnIranian.Surelythey’dbetheonessenttostopher.Itneveroccurredtoherthey’dsendawhiteman.Theveryfactthathestoodoutwashiscamouflage.Dr.Bukhariwouldnothavecreditedherenemieswiththisstrokeofgenius.
Thoughitwaspossibleshewasimaginingthings.Toolittlerest,toolittlefood,toomuchfearwerecreatingparanoia.Shecouldfeelherreasondriftingaway.Light-headedfromlackofsleep,sheseemedattimestobefloatingaboveherbody.
Asanintellectual,ascientist,Dr.Bukharifoundthisthemostfrighteningeventsofar.Shecouldnolongertrusthermind.Norcouldshetrustheremotions.
Shewasadrift.
No,shethought.Notthat.Shehadacleardirection.Acleardestination.Shejusthadtogetthere.
NasrinBukharilookedatthebatteredoldclockonthewallofthefilthywaitingarea.Again.Twohoursandfifty-threeminutesuntilherflighttoFrankfurt.
Inherperipheralvision,shesawthemantakeouthisphone.
Thetextcameinatonethirtyinthemorning.
Didn’twriteglidyoudid.Youmightbealbumtohelpmewithsomething.Needinfoonscientist.
Anaclickeditoff.Hecouldn’tevenbebotheredtocheckfortyposbeforesendingthemessage.
She’dwalkedintothatpropeller,knowing,oratleastsuspecting,thatshewasjustasourcetohim.Nothingmore.Andprobablyhadbeenallalong.HervaluetohimwasashisinsiderattheembassyandnowtheStateDepartment.HissourceintheBureauofSouthandCentralAsianAffairs.
AnahitawonderedhowmuchshereallyknewaboutGilBahar.HewasarespectedjournalistwithReuters.Therehadbeenrumors,though.Whispers.
ButIslamabadwasbuiltonwhispersandrumors.Eventheveteranscouldn’tseparatetruthfromfiction.Realityfromparanoia.Inthatcauldron,thetwomeldedandbecameone.Indistinguishable.
WhatshedidknowwasthatGilBaharhadbeenkidnappedinAfghanistanbythePathanfamilynetworkafewyearsearlierandheldforeightmonthsbeforeescaping.Knownas“thefamily,”thePathanwerethenomdeguerreofthemostextreme,themostbrutaloftheterroristsinthePakistani-Afghantribalarea.CloselyalignedwithAl-Qaeda,theywerefearedevenbyotherTalibangroups.
Whereotherjournalistshadbeentortured,thenexecuted,beheaded,GilBaharhadgottenoutunscathed.
Andwhywasthat?wasthewhisperedquestion.HowhadheescapedthePathan?
AnahitaDahirhadchosentoignorethenastyinnuendo.Butnow,asshelayinbed,sheallowedherselftogothere.
ThelasttimeGilhadcontactedherwasshortlyaftershe’dbeentransferredoutofPakistantotakeupherjobinDC.He’dcalledherpersonalnumberand,aftersomepleasantries,hadaskedforinformation.
Shehadn’tgivenittohim,ofcourse,butthreedayslaterthere’dbeenanassassination.OftheverypersonwhosemovementsGilhadbeenaskingabout.
Andnowhewantedmoreinformation.Aboutsomescientist.
CHAPTER4
“Yes?”saidEllen,surfacingimmediatelyfromadeepsleep.“Whatisit?”
Assheansweredherphone,shenotedthetime.Twothirty-fivea.m.
“MadameSecretary,”cameCharlesBoynton’svoice.Deep,somber.“There’sbeenanexplosion.”
Shesatupandreachedforherglasses.“Where?”
“London.”
Shefeltaguiltywaveofrelief.NotUSsoil,atleast.Butstill.Sheswungherlegsoutofbedandturnedonthelight.
“Tellme.”
Withinforty-fiveminutesSecretaryAdamswasintheSituationRoomoftheWhiteHouse.
Tocutdownonconfusionandunnecessarynoise,onlythecoreoftheNationalSecurityCouncilhadbeencalled.RangedaroundthetablewerethePresident,theVicePresident,thesecretariesofState,Defense,HomelandSecurity.TheDirectorofNationalIntelligenceandtheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff.
VariousaidesandtheWhiteHouseChiefofStaffsatinchairsagainstthewall.
Thefacesweregrim,butnotpanicked.TheChairmanoftheJointChiefshadbeenthroughthisbefore,evenifthePresidentandhiscabinethadnot.
Themediawasjustbeginningtoreportonwhathadhappened.Whatwashappening.
AmapofLondontookuptheentirescreenatthefarendoftheroom.Areddot,likeasplotchofblood,showedtheexactlocationoftheexplosion.
AlongPiccadilly.JustoutsideFortnum&Mason,Ellennoted,goingthroughwhatsheknewofLondon.TheRitzjustdownthestreet.Hatchards,theoldestbookshopinLondon,waslostundertheredmark.
“There’snoquestionitwasabomb?”askedPresidentWilliams.
“None,Mr.President,”saidTimBeecham,theDirectorofNationalIntelligence.“We’reinconstanttouchwithMI5andMI6.They’rescramblingtogetahandleonwhathappened,butgiventhedestruction,itcouldn’tbeanythingelse.”
“Goon,”saidPresidentWilliams,leaningforward.
“Itappearstohavebeenonabus,”saidArmyGeneralAlbert“Bert”Whitehead,theChairoftheJointChiefs.Hisuniformwasmisbuttoned.Histiehastilythrownaroundhisneck,undone.Aloosenoose.
Buthisvoicewasstrong,hiseyesclear.Hisfocuscomplete.
“Appears?”askedWilliams.
“Thedamageistoogreattogetaprecisereadrightnow.Itcould’vebeenacarbomboratruckthatexplodedjustasabuswentby.There’sdebriseverywhere,asyoucansee.”
GeneralWhiteheadtappedhissecurelaptop,andastillphotoreplacedthemap.Ithadbeentakenfromasatellite.Theimageunexpectedlyclear,evenfrommilesinspace.
Theyallleanedtowardit.
Therewasacraterinthemiddleofthefamousstreet,andarounditwaslitteredtwistedmetal.Smokerose,suspended,fromvehicles;facadesofcenturies-oldbuildingsthathadsurvivedtheBlitzhaddisappeared.
Butnobodies,Ellennoticed.Blown,shesuspected,intopiecestoosmalltoeasilyidentifyashuman.
Theblastzonewasonlyconfinedbythebuildingsoneitherside;otherwisewhoknewhowfaroutitwouldhavegone.
“MyGod,”whisperedtheSecretaryofDefense.“Whatdidthat?”
“Mr.President,”saidBarbaraStenhauser,“we’vejustreceivedvideo.”
Atanod,shebroughtitup.ItwastakenfromoneofthetensofthousandsofsecuritycamerasaroundLondon.
Therewasatimecodegeneratoratthebottomrightofthepicture.
7:17:04
“Whendidthebombgooff?”PresidentWilliamsasked.
“Sevenseventeenandforty-threeseconds,GMT,sir,”saidGeneralWhitehead.
EllenAdamsbroughtherhandtohermouthasshewatched.Itwasthebeginningofrushhour.ThesunwastryingtobreakthroughthegrayMarchmorning.
7:17:20
Menandwomenwerestreamingalongthesidewalk.Cars,deliveryvans,blackcabswaitedatthestoplight.
Asthetimecountedup.Counteddown.
7:17:32
“Run,run,”EllenheardtheSecretaryofHomelandSecurity,sittingnexttoher,whisper.“Run.”
But,ofcourse,theydidn’t.
Abrightreddouble-deckerpulleduptoastop.
7:17:39
Ayoungwomansteppedasidetoletanelderlymanonfirst.Heturnedtothankher.
7:17:43
Theywatchedoverandover,fromdifferentanglesasmorevideoscamein,projectedontothelargescreenattheendoftheSituationRoom.
Inthesecondone,theycouldseethebusmoreclearlyasitarrivedatthestop.Theangleallowedthemtomakeoutfaces.Includingalittlegirlinthefrontseatoftheupperdeck.Thebestseat.Theoneallthechildren,includingEllen’sown,hadrushedfor.
Tryasshemight,Ellencouldn’ttakehereyesoffthegirl.
Run.Run.
Butofcourse,ineveryvideo,nomattertheangle,thelittlegirlremained.Andthenwasgone.
Theconfirmation,whenitcamefromtheUK,wasacademic.Itwasclearthatthiswasabomb.Plantedonthebus.Timedtogooffattheworstpossiblemoment,intheworstpossibleplace.
RushhourincentralLondon.
“Hasanyonetakenresponsibility?”PresidentWilliamsasked.
“Notyet,”saidtheDNI,checkingandrecheckinghisreports.
Informationwaspouringinnow.Thekey,theyallknew,wastomanageit.Tonotletthemselvesbeoverwhelmed.
“Andnochatter?”askedPresidentWilliams.
Helookedaroundthegleaminglongtableattheshakingheads,stoppingatEllen
“Nothing,”sheconfirmed.Butstillhestaredather,asthoughthefailurewerehers,andhersalone.
Andasimpletruthwasbroughthome.
Hedoesn’ttrustme,sherealized.Sheprobablyshouldhaverealizeditsooner,butshe’dbeensocaughtupintryingtogetahandleonhernewjob,shehadn’tpausedtothink.
Inherhubris,EllenAdamshadassumedhe’dchosenherashisSecretaryofState,despitetheirobviousantagonism,becauseheknewshe’dbegoodatthejob.
Nowshesawhenotonlydislikedher,hedistrustedher.
Sowhyhadheappointedsomeonehedidn’ttrusttosuchapowerfulposition?
Andpartoftheanswerwasclear,inthatroom,inthatmoment.
BecausePresidentDouglasWilliamshadn’texpectedaninternationalcrisistohitsoearlyinhis,orher,tenure.Hehadn’texpectedtohavetotrusther.
Sowhathadheexpected?
Allthiscametoherinaflash,butshehadn’ttimetolingeronit.Therewerefarmoreimmediateandimportantconcerns.
PresidentWilliamsdraggedhiseyesfromherandsettledontheDNI.“Isn’tthatunusual?”heasked.“Tonothearanything?”
“Notnecessarily,”saidTimBeecham.“Notifit’saone-off.Alonewolfwhoblewhimselfupwiththeexplosion.”
“Butevenso,”saidEllen,lookingaroundthetable,“don’tthosepeoplenormallywanttheworldtoknow?Don’ttheyputoutastatement,avideo,onsocialmedia?”
“Thereisonereasonnoonehas—”GeneralWhiteheadbeganbeforebeinginterruptedbythePresident’sChiefofStaff.
“Sir,IhavetheBritishPrimeMinisterontheline,”saidBarbStenhauser.
Likeeveryoneelsethere,herclotheshadbeenthrownon.Hergraveexpressionwasnotmaskedbymakeup.Thoughnoamountcouldhavehiddenit.
ThecarnageonthescreenwasreplacedbythesternfaceofPrimeMinisterBellington,hishairaskew,asalways.
“Mr.PrimeMinister,theAmericanpeop—”DouglasWilliamsbegan.
“Yes,yes,whatever.Youwanttoknowwhathappened.SodoI.Andfrankly,Ihavenothingtotellyou.”
HeglaredoffcameraatwhattheycouldonlyguesswererepresentativesofMI5andMI6.BritishIntelligence.
“Wasthereaspecifictarget?”askedWilliams.
“Can’ttellyet.We’veonlyjustbeenabletoconfirmthatthebombwasonthebus.Wehavenoideawhowasonit,ornearby.Thepassengersandpedestrianswereblowntobits.Icansendyouthevideo.”
“Noneed,”saidWilliams.“We’veseenit.”
Bellingtonraisedhisbrows.Itwasunclearifhewasimpressedorannoyed.Buthequicklydecidedtoletitgo.
ThePrimeMinister,threeyearsintohisfirstterm,wasimmenselypopularwiththerightwingofhispartyandtheConservativevotingpublicbecausehe’dpromisednationalsecurityandindependencefromothernations.Thisbombingwouldnothelphisreelectioncampaign.
“It’lltakealongtimetogetdefiniteidentification,”Bellingtonsaid.“We’regoingoverthevideostoseeiffacialrecognitionflagsanyone.Apossibleterrorist,oratarget.Anyhelpyoucangivewouldbeappreciated.”
“Couldthetargethavebeenabuildingandnotaperson?Likethe9/11attacks?”askedtheDNI.
“Couldbe,”admittedthePrimeMinister.“Butthere’remoreobvioustargetsinLondonthanFortnum&Mason.”
“Thoughit’spossiblesomeoneobjectedtopayingahundredpoundsforafternoontea,”saidtheSecretaryofDefense,andlookedaroundthetableforappreciativesmiles.
Therewerenone.
“ButtheRoyalAcademyofArtsistheretoo,”saidEllen.
“Art,MadameSecretary?”saidPrimeMinisterBellington,turningtoher.“Youthinksomeonewouldcreatesuchcarnagetodisruptanexhibition?”
Ellentriednottobristleatthepatronizingtone,thoughsheadmittedthatallBritishaccentssoundedpatronizingtoherAmericanear.Whentheyspoke,sheheardanimpliedYouidiot.
Shehearditnow.Buthewasunderpressureandwasreleasingsomeofitinherdirection.Shewouldallowhimthat.Fornow.
And,tobefair,PrimeMinisterBellingtonhadbeenafavoritetargetofhermediaoutletsforyears,paintinghimaswoefullyinadequate.Ahollowman,anupper-classtwit,withanygutshemighthavehadreplacedbyentitlementandrandomLatinphrases.
Itwasn’tsurprisinghe’dlookatherlikethat.Infact,Ellenconceded,hewasshowingsurprisingrestraint.
“Notjustart,Mr.PrimeMinister,”shesaid.“There’stheGeologicalSocietyrightthere.”
“True.”Hiseyesnowprobing,piercingeven.Farmoreintelligentthanshe’dthoughtpossible.“YouknowLondonwell.”
“It’soneofmyfavoritecities.Thisisaterrible,terribleevent.”
Anditwas.Buttheimplicationsmightgofarbeyondthedreadfullossoflifeanddestructionofpartofthatcity’srichhistory.
“Geology?”saidtheSecretaryofDefense.“Whywouldanyonewanttoblowupaplacethatstudiesrocks?”
EllenAdamsdidn’tanswer.Insteadshelookedatthescreen,meetingthethoughtfuleyesoftheBritishPrimeMinister.
“Geologyisfarmorethanrocks,”hesaid.“It’soil.Coal.Gold.Diamonds.”
Bellingtonpausedthere,holdingEllenAdams’seyes,invitinghertodothehonors.
“Uranium,”shesaid.
Henodded.“Whichcanbeturnedintoanuclearbomb.Factumfieriinfectumnonpotest.It’simpossibleforthedeedtobeundone,”Bellingtontranslatedhimself.“Butmaybewecanpreventanotherattack.”
“Youthinkthere’llbeanother,Mr.PrimeMinister?”askedPresidentWilliams
“Ido,sir.”
“Butwhere?”mutteredtheDNI.
Whenthemeetingbrokeup,EllenmadesuretowalkoutbesideGeneralWhitehead.
“Youbegantosaytherewasareasonsomeonemightnottakeresponsibility.Thatiswhatyouwereabouttosay,isn’tit?”
Henodded.
TheheadoftheJointChiefsofStafflookedmorelikealibrarianthanawarrior.
Interestingly,theLibrarianofCongresslookedlikeawarrior.
GeneralWhitehead’sfacewaskindly,hisvoicegentle.Hiseyeslookedatherfrombehindowlishglasses.
Butsheknewhisrecord,asacombatsoldier.ARanger.He’drisenthroughtherankshavingledfromthefront,gainingnotjusttherespectbutalsotheloyaltyandtrustofthemenandwomenunderhim.
GeneralWhiteheadstopped,lettingtheotherspassby,andstudiedher.Hisgazewassearchingbutnotantagonistic.
“Whatisthatreason,General?”
“Theydidn’tclaimresponsibility,MadameSecretary,becausetheydon’tneedto.Theirgoalwas,is,somethingelseentirely.Somethingmoreimportantthanterror.”
Shefeltthebloodrunfromherface,poolinginhercore,herheart.
“Andwhatwouldthatbe?”sheasked,surprisedandrelievedtohearhervoicemorecomposedthanshefelt.
“Assassination,maybe.Perhapsitwassurgical,tosendamessagetoonlyonepersonorgroup.Noannouncementnecessary.Theymightknowtoothattheirsilencewouldtieupourresourcesfarmoreeffectivelythanclaimingresponsibility.”
“I’dhardlycallwhathappenedinLondon‘surgical.’”
“True.Imeantsurgicalintermsofpurpose.Anarrow,definedgoal.Weseehundredsdead,theymightseeonlyone.Weseehorrificdestruction,theyseeasinglebuildinggone.Perception.”Hishandwenttohistie,andheseemedsurprisedtofinditundone.“Icantellyouonething,SecretaryAdams.Frommyexperience,thegreaterthesilence,thegreaterthegoal.”
“YouagreewiththePrimeMinister,then?Thatthere’llbeasecondattack?”
“Idon’tknow.”Heheldhereyes,openedhismouth,thenclosedit.
“Youcantellme,General.”
Hesmiled,slightly.“WhatIdoknowisthat,instrategicterms,thisisaprettygreatsilence.”
Bythetimehefinishedspeaking,thesmilewasgone.Hisfacegrim.
Thepredatorwasoutthere.Somewhere.Hidinginavastsilence.
Theydidn’thavetowaitlong.
ItwasclosinginonteninthemorningwhenEllenAdamsreturnedtoherofficeattheStateDepartment.
Therewasfranticactivity.Beforeshecouldevengetthroughtheelevatordoor,shewasscrummedbyherpressaidesaskingforsomethingtheycouldfeedtheravenousmedia.Onceoutoftheelevator,shewashurriedtoheroffice.Menandwomenranupanddownthecorridor,jumpinginandoutofoffices.Nottrustingtotextmessagesorevenphonecalls.Therewereshoutedquestions,demands,asaideschaseddowneverypossiblelead.
“We’retalkingtoalloursources,”saidBoynton,walkingrapidlybesideher.“Intelligenceorganizationsinternationallyareonit.We’vealsocontactedcounterterrorismthinktanks.Strategicstudiesdepartments.”
“Anything?”
“Notyet.Butsomeoneknowssomething.”
Onceatherdesk,shewentthroughhercontactslist.“Ihavesomenamesforyou.PeopleI’vemetinmytravels.Somejournalists.Somegadflieswhosaylittlebuttakeinalot.”Sheforwardedhimaseriesofcontactcards.“Usemyname.Apologizeandexplain.”
“Iwill.Weneedtomovetothesecurevideoconferenceroom.They’rewaiting.”
Onceshewasthere,facesappearedonthescreen.
“Welcome,MadameSecretary.”
ThemeetingoftheFiveEyeshadbegun.
AnahitaDahirsatatherdeskintheStateDepartment.
Everyforeignserviceofficerworldwidehadbeentaskedtoforwardanyintelligence,anythingatall,thatmighthavebearing.Theplacewasthrobbingwithnear-frenziedenergyasmessagesweresentandreceived.Codedanddecoded.
Anahitawentthroughthemessagesthathadcomeintoherdeskovernightwhilealsomonitoringthenewsontelevision.
Itfelt,moreandmore,asthoughjournalistshadabetternetworkthantheCIAorNSA.OrState.
ThatremindedherofGil,andshewastemptedonceagaintocontacthim.Toseeifheknewanything.Butshealsosuspectedthisideacamenotsomuchfromherbrainasconsiderablyfartherdown.Andnowwasnotthetimetoindulgethat.
AsajuniorFSOonthePakistandesk,shewasnotprivytothehigh-levelcommunications.Themoremundaneintelligence,frommarginalinformants,cameintoher.Thingslikewherevariousgovernmentministershadlunch,withwhom,andwhattheyate.
Buteventhosemessageshadtobereadmorecarefully.
FiveEyeswasthenameforanallianceofintelligenceagenciesfromAustralia,NewZealand,Canada,theUK,andtheUS.EllenhadnotheardofthisorganizationofEnglish-speakingalliesuntilshe’dbecomeSecretaryofState.
Becauseoftheirstrategicpositions,theFiveEyesessentiallycoveredtheplanet.Buteventheyhadheardnothing.Nowhispersbeforehand.Notriumphantdeclarationsinthehoursaftertheexplosion.
SecretaryAdamswasjoinedonthevideocallbyhercabinetcounterpartsandtheirchiefintelofficersfromeachcountry.Thefivespiesandfivesecretariesquickly,succinctly,sharedwhattheyknew.Whattheirnetworkshadpickedup.Whichwasnothing.
“Nothing?”demandedtheUKForeignSecretary.“How’sthatpossible?Hundredsaredead.Manymoreinjured.CentralLondonlooksliketheBlitz.Thiswasn’tafirecracker,thiswasagoddamnedfuckingmassivebomb.”
“Look,YourLordship,”theAustralianForeignMinistersaid,puttingundueemphasisonthelastword.“There’snothing.We’vegonebackoverinteloutofRussia,theMiddleEast,Asia.We’recontinuingtodig,butsofaronlysilence.”
Agreatsilence,thoughtEllen,rememberingtheGeneral’swords.
“Ithastohavebeenasinglenutjobwithexpertiseandagrievance,”saidtheNewZealandForeignMinister.
“Agreed,”saidtheCIADirector,whowastheUSEye.“IfitwasanFTO,likeAl-QaedaorISIS—”
“Al-Shabaab,”saidtheNewZealandEye.
“ThePathan—”saidtheAustralianEye.
“Areyougoingtolistthemall?”askedtheUKForeignSecretary.“Becausetimeisnotonourside.”
“Thepointis—”theAustralianEyebegan.
“Yes,whatisthepoint?”demandedtheUKForeignSecretary.
“Allright,”theCanadianEyejumpedin.“Enough.Let’snotturnoneachother.Weallknowthepoint.Ifanyoneofthehundredsofknownterroristorganizationssetoffthebomb,they’dhavetakenresponsibilitybynow.”
“Andtheunknown?”askedtheUSEye.“Supposeanewonehassprungup?”
“Well,theydon’tjustspringup,dothey?”saidtheNewZealandEye.SheturnedtoherAustraliancounterpartforsupport.
“Anewonethatmanagedtopullthisoff,”saidtheAustralianEye,“wouldn’tremainunknownforlong.They’dbeshoutingitfromtherooftops.”
“Isitpossible,”SecretaryAdamssaid,“thatnoonehastakenresponsibilitybecausetheydon’tneedto?”
AllEyesandeyesturnedtoherasthoughsurprisedanemptychairhadlearnedtotalk.TheUKForeignSecretaryhuffedhisannoyancethatthenewAmericanSecretaryofStatewouldwastetheirtimebythinkingshehadanythingworthwhiletosay.
TheUSEyelookedembarrassed.
Ellenforgedahead,explainingwhatGeneralWhiteheadhadsaid.ThefactitcamefromaGeneralandtheheadoftheJointChiefsofStaffmeanttheygaveitfarmorecredibilitythanifshe’dmadethesuggestionherself.Ellendidn’tcare.Shedidn’tneedtheirapprovalortheirrespect,justtheirattention.
“MadameSecretary,”saidtheUKForeignSecretary,“thewholepointofaterrorististospreadterror.Stayingschtumisn’tpartoftheplaybook.”
“Yes,thankyou,”saidEllen.
“Maybethey’refansofAlfredHitchcock,”saidtheCanadianEye.
“Yes,yes,”saidtheUKForeignSecretary.“OrMontyPython.Let’smoveon—”
“Whatdoyoumean?”EllenaskedtheCanadian.
“ImeanthatHitchcockknewthatthecloseddoorismuchmorefrighteningthantheopen.Thinkofwhenyouwereakid,atnight.Staringattheclosetdoor.Wonderingwhatwasreallyinthere.Wefilledthevoidwithourimaginations.Andwealmostneverthoughtthatitwasakindfairyholdingapuppyandsomepudding.”Shepaused,anditseemedtoEllenthatshelookedstraightather.“Thosewithatrulycatastrophicagendaneverletusopenthedoor.Itopenswhenthey’rereadytoreleaseit.YourGeneralisright,MadameSecretary.Thetruenatureofterroristheunknown.Thetrulyterriblethrivesinsilence.”
Ellenfeltherselfgrowvery,verystill,veryquiet.Andthenthesilencewasshattered.Ellenjoltedinherchairasalltheirencryptedphoneswentoffatonce.
OntheUKscreen,theycouldseeanaidesaysomethingintheForeignSecretary’sear.
“OhChrist,”hewhispered,thenturnedtothescreen,stricken,justasBoyntonbentdownnexttoEllenAdams.
“MadameSecretary,there’sbeenanexplosioninParis.”
CHAPTER5
TheflightlandedattheFrankfurtairporttenminuteslate,butstillwithplentyoftimetomakethebusconnection.
Astheplanetaxiedtotheterminal,NasrinBukharicheckedherwatchandresetitto4:03intheafternoon.Shedidn’tdarecarryaphone,evenaburner.Shecouldn’ttaketherisk.
Nuclearphysicists,she’doftentoldherschoolteacherhusband,werebynatureextremelyrisk-averse.Whichmadehimlaughandpointoutthattherewasnomoreriskyworkthanwhatshedid.
Italsomadewhatshewasdoingnowsofaroutofhercomfortzoneshemightaswellbeonanotherplanet.
OrinFrankfurt.
Aroundherintheplane,asfellowpassengersturnedontheirphones,thereweremurmurs,thenmoans,thencries.Somethinghadhappened.
Notdaringtospeakwithanyone,Dr.Bukhariwaiteduntilshewasinsidetheterminal,thenwenttooneofthetelevisionmonitors.Acrowdhadgathered,andshewastoofarbacktohearwhatwasbeingsaid,evenifshecouldhaveunderstoodthelanguage.
Butshecouldseetheimages.Andreadthecrawlatthebottomofthescreen.
London.Paris.Scenesofnear-apocalypticdestruction.Shestared,paralyzed.WishingAmirwerethere.Nottotellherwhattodo,buttosliphishandinhers.Soshewouldn’tbealone.
Thiswas,sheknew,acoincidence.Nothingtodowithher.Couldn’tbe.
Andyet,asshebackedawayandturned,shecaughttheeyeoftheyoungmanwho’dgottenofftheplanewithherandnowstoodafewfeetaway.
Notwatchingthescreen.Notlookingatthescenesofcarnage.Hewaslookingatherwith,shewasprettysure,recognition.Andcontempt.
“Sitdown,”commandedPresidentWilliams,lookingupbrieflyfromhisnotes,thenbackdown.
EllenAdamstookthechairacrossfromhimintheOvalOffice.Itwasstillwarmfromthehead,orbottom,oftheDNI.
Behindher,thebankofmonitorswastunedtodifferentchannels,allwitheithertalkingheadsorshotsoftheatrocities.
Inthecaronthewayover,sirenshowlingontheDiplomaticSecurityescort,Ellenhadreadthebrutallyshortmessagesfrominternationalintelligenceagencies.Mostaskingfor,beggingfor,notoffering,information.
“There’llbeafullcabinetmeetingintwentyminutes,”saidWilliams,takingoffhisglassesandstaringather.“ButIneedtogetahandleonwhat’shappened,andwhetherwe’reatrisk.Arewe?”
“Idon’tknow,Mr.President.”
Hislipsthinned,andevenacrosstheResolutedesk,shecouldhearhislongintakeofbreath.Hewastrying,shesuspected,toinhalehisanger.
Butitwasfartoogreattobecontained.Outitshot,inacloudofspittleandrage.
“Whatthefffffuckdoyoumean?”
Thewords,theword,explodedoutofhim.Ellenhadhearditmanytimes,butneverhaditbeendirectedatherwithsuchforce.Orunfairness.
Thoughthiswasnotadaytoparsefairness.
Hisshoutwaspropelledbyfear,thatmuchsheknew,evenassheforcedherselfnottowipethemoisturefromherface.
Shewasafraidtoo.Buthiswasmagnifiedbythecertaintythatifhewasn’tcareful,wasn’tfastenoughandsmartenough,thenextimageswouldbeofNewYorkorWashington.ChicagoorLosAngeles.
Justweeksintothejob,stilltryingtofindhiswaybacktotheWhiteHousebowlingalley,andthishappened.Worse.Hewassaddledwithanewadministration.Smartmenandwomen,butwithoutdepthinthisarena.
And,worsestill,he’dinheritedabureaucracycrippledby,populatedby,theincompetentsofthepreviousadministration.
Hewasn’tjustafraid.ThePresidentoftheUnitedStateshadbeenthrustintoanear-perpetualstateofterror.Andhewasn’talone.
“Icantellyou,Mr.President,whatweknow.Icangiveyoufacts,notspeculation.”
Heglaredather.Hismostpoliticalofappointments.Andthatmadehertheweakestlinkinaveryweakchain.
Onherlapshebalancedadossier,whichshenowopened.Adjustingherglasses,sheread,“TheParisblastoccurredatthreethirty-sixlocaltime.ItwasonabusheadedalongtheFaubourgSaint-DenisintheTenth—”
“Yes,Iknowallthat.Theworldknowsallthat.”Hegesturedtowardthebankoftelevisionscreens.“TellmesomethingIdon’tknow.Somethingthatwillhelp.”
Thesecondexplosionwaslessthantwentyminutesold.Theyhadn’thadtimetocollectinformation,shewantedtosay.Butheknewthattoo.
Nowshetookoffherglasses,rubbedhereyes,andlookedathim.
“Ihavenothing.”
Theaircrackledwithhisrage.
“Nothing?”herasped.
“Youwantmetolie?”
“Iwantyoutobesomethingclosetocompetent.”
Ellentookadeepbreathandsearchedhermindforsomethingtosaythatwouldn’tenragehimfurther.Andwasteprecioustime.
“Everyalliedintelligenceagencyisgoingoverposts,overmessages.They’rescouringthedarkwebforhiddensites.We’reexaminingvideotoseeifwecanidentifyeitherthebomberorapossibletarget.Sofar,inLondon,we’veidentifiedonepossibletarget.”
“Thatis?”
“TheGeologicalSociety.”Asshespoke,shesawthefaceofthegirl.Intheupperwindow.Lookingforward,downPiccadilly.Lookingintoafuturethatdidn’texist.
PresidentWilliamswasabouttospeak.Tosay,Ellencouldsee,somethingdismissive,whenhestoppedtothink.Thennodded.
“AndParis?”
“Parisisinteresting.We’dhaveexpectedanexplosiontobeataknownsite.TheLouvre,Notre-Dame.ThePresident’sresidence.”
Williamsleanedforward.Interested.
“Butthenumber38buswasnowherenearanylikelytarget.Itwasjustgoingalongawideavenue.Noteventhatmanypeoplearoundit.Itwasn’trushhour.Theredoesn’tseemtobeareasonforit.Andyettherewas.”
“Couldthebombhavegoneoffbymistake?”heasked.“Toosoonortoolate?”
“It’spossible,yes.Butwe’redevelopinganothertheory.Thenumber38busgoestoseveraltrainstations.Infact,itwasonitswaytotheGareduNordwhenitblewup.”
“GareduNord.That’swheretheEurostarfromLondoncomesin,”hesaid.
DouglasWilliamswasprovingsmarterthanEllenhadassumed.Oratleastbettertraveled.
“Exactly.”
“YouthinktherewassomeoneonthatbusheadingtoLondon?”
“It’sapossibility.We’regoingovervideofromeachofthestops,butParisisn’tnearlyaswellcoveredbyCCTVasLondon.”
“You’dhavethoughtafterwhathappenedin2015…,”saidWilliams.“AnythingmoreoutofLondon?”
“Notyet.Nohitsonapossibletargetofassassination,andunfortunatelyalmosteveryonegettingonthebuswascarryingapackageoraknapsackorsomethingthatcouldbeanexplosive.Inadditiontotheregularchannels,I’veaskedmyformercolleaguesatthenewsagenciestopassalongwhattheirjournalistsandinformantshaveheard.”
TherewasapausebeforethePresidentspoke.ItwentonjustlongenoughforBarbaraStenhausertolookoverfromthesofa,whereshewasmonitoringboththeconversationandthedelugeofinformation.
“Doesthatincludeyourson?”saidWilliams.“FromwhatIremember,he’swell-connected.”
Theairbetweenthemfroze.Anyfragileententethathadbeenreachedcracked,thenshattered.
“Idon’tthink,Mr.President,youwanttobringmysonintothis.”
“AndIdon’tthink,MadameSecretary,youwanttoignoreadirectquestionfromyourCommander-in-Chief.”
“Hedoesn’tworkforanyofmyformeroutlets.”
“Thatwasn’tthequestion,ortheissue.”Williams’svoicewasbrittle.“He’syourson.Hehascontacts.Givenwhathappenedafewyearsago,hemightknowsomething.”
“Irememberwhathappened,Mr.President.”Ifhistonewasbrittle,herswaspositivelyglacial.“Idon’tneedareminder.”
Theyglaredateachother.BarbStenhauserknewsheshouldprobablyinterrupt.Bringcivilitybacktotheconversation.Returnittosomethingusefulandconstructive.
Butshedidnot.Shewascurioustoseewherethiswouldgo.Ifitwasn’tconstructive,itmightatleastproveinstructive.
“He’dtellmeifheknewanythingaboutthebombings.”
“Wouldhe?”
Thewoundbetweenthemhadopenedtoachasm.Andboth,teeteringontheedge,fellheadlongin.
BarbStenhauserhadassumedthePresidentdislikedEllenAdamsbecauseshe’dusedherformidablemediamighttosupporthisrivalforthepartynomination.Intheprocess,she’dhumiliatedDougWilliamsateveryopportunity.Belittlinghim,paintinghimasincompetent,manipulative.Unready.
Acoward.
She’devencreatedacontest,invitingreaderstocomeupwithanagramsforhisname.
DougWilliamsbecame“AglowDimLuis.”And,afterhislossintheIowacaucus,“GlumIowaSlid.”
TheanagramsstillfollowedPresidentWilliamsaround,mutteredinstagewhispersbyhispoliticalenemies.OfwhichEllenAdamshadbeenone.AnditseemedherelevationtoSecretaryofStatemightnothavechangedanything.
“AlGoMudSwill.”
NowStenhauserrealizedshe’dbeensofocusedonherboss,shehadn’tstoppedtowonderwhyAdamsdislikedWilliamssomuch.
Watchingthem,sherealizedshe’dunderestimatedthefeelings.Itwasn’tmeredislike.Itwasn’tevenangerthatfilledtheOvalOffice.ItwasahatredsostrongtheChiefofStaffhalfexpectedthewindowstobeblownoutbytheforceofit.
Nowshewonderedwhattheywereremembering.Whathadhappenedafewyearsago?
“Contacthim,”PresidentWilliamsallbutsnarled.“Now.Oryou’refired.”
“Idon’thavehiscoordinates.”Ellenfelthercheeksburnassheadmittedthat.“We’renotintouch.”
“Getintouch.”
AskingtheheadofherDiplomaticSecuritydetail,whowasstandingjustoutsidethedoor,forherphone,shesentamessagetoBetsy.Askinghertocontacthersonandseeifhehadanyinformation,anythingatall,onthebombings.
Withinmomentsareplycamein.
“Letmeseeit,”saidWilliams,holdinghishandout.
Ellenhesitated,thengavehimherphone.Helookedatthemessage,hisbrowsdrawingtogether.
“Whatdoesitmean?”
Itwasherturntoholdherhandoutforthephone.“It’sacodemycounselorandIuse.Oneweworkedoutaschildren,tomakesurewearewhowesayweare.”
Onthescreenwerethewords:Anonsequiturwalksintoabar…
Hegavebackherphone,muttering,“Intellectualbullshit.”
Ignorantass,thoughtEllenasshetyped,Inastrongwind,eventurkeyscanfly.Thensheplacedthephoneonthedesk.“Itmighttakeawhile.Idon’tknowwhereheis.Hecouldbeanywhereintheworld.”
“HecouldbeinParis,”saidWilliams.
“Areyousuggesting—”
“Mr.President,”saidStenhauser.“It’stimeforthecabinetmeeting.”
AnahitaDahirglancedupnowandthentoseetheimages,butmostlytoreadthecrawlatthebottomofthetelevisionscreenonthewallofthelargeopenoffice.Shewantedtoseeifthereportershadmoreinformationthanshedid,whichwouldnotbedifficult.
Thefirstbomb,inLondon,hadgoneoffat2:17thatmorning.Thesecondbomb,inParis,lessthananhourago,at9:36.
Butasshewatchedthescenes,theendlessloopofthebombsexploding,Anahitarealizedthatdidn’tmakesense.ItwaslightinLondon,soitcouldn’thavebeeninthemiddleofthenight.AndinParis,itdidn’tlooklikerushhour.
Thensheshookherheadandmutteredtoherself,realizinghermistake.TheAmericannewsnetshadtranslatedthetimetoUSeasterntime.ThetimeinEuropewouldhavebeen…
Shedidthequickcalculations,addingthenecessaryhours,thensatstock-still.Staringahead.
Andthen,toherhorror,shesawwhatshouldhavebeenobvious.
Anahitastartedsweepingpapersoffherdesk.
“What’reyoudoing?”theFSOatthenextdeskasked.“Somethingwrong?”
ButAnahitawasn’tlistening;shewasmutteringtoherself,“Please,ohplease,ohplease.”
Andthereitwas.
Sheclutchedthepieceofpaper.Butherhandswereshakingsobadlyshehadtoplaceitonthedesktoreadit.
Itwasthemessagethathadcomeinthenightbefore.Thecode.Grabbingit,sherantohersupervisor’soffice,buthewasn’tthere.
“Inmeetings,”saidhisassistant.
“Where?Ineedtoseehim.It’surgent.”
TheassistantknewhowjuniortheFSOwasandlookedunconvinced.Shepointedup,towardheaven,orthenextthingtoit,theseventh-floorMahoganyRowoffices.“Look,youknowwhat’shappening.I’mnotgoingtointerruptameetingwiththeChiefofStaff.”
“Youhaveto.It’saboutamessagethatcameinlastnight.Please.”
Theassistanthesitated,thenseeingthenearpanicontheyoungwoman’sface,sheplacedacall.“I’msorry,sir,butAnahitaDahirishere.JuniorFSOonthePakistandesk,yes.Shesaysshehasamessage,somethingthatcameinlastnight.”Theassistantlistened,thenlookedatAnahita.“Isittheoneyoushowedthesupervisor?”
“Yes,yes.”
“Yes,sir.”Shelistened,acknowledged,thenhungup.“Hesayshe’llspeakwithyouwhenhegetsback.”
“Whenwillthatbe?”
“Whoknows.”
“No.No,no,no.Hehastoseethisnow.”
“Thenleaveitwithme.I’llshowhimwhenhereturns.”
Anahitaclutchedittoherbody.“No.Iwill.”
Shereturnedtoherdeskandlookeddownatitagain.
19/0717,38/1536
Thenumbersofthebusesthathadexploded,andtheexacttimes.
Itwasn’tcode.Itwasawarning.
Andtherewasonemore.
119/1848
Anumber119buswasgoingtoexplodeat6:48thatevening.IfitwasinAmerica,theyhadeighthours.
IfitwasinEurope…Shelookedatthebankofclocksshowingdifferenttimesindifferentzones.
ItwasalreadyfourthirtyinmuchofEurope.Theyhadjustovertwohours.
AnahitaDahirhadbeenraisedtodoasshewastold.AgoodLebanesegirl,shefollowedrules.Hadallherlife.Itwasn’tjustdrilledintoher;itcamenaturally.
Shehesitated.Shecouldwait.Shouldwait.Hadbeenorderedtowait.Exceptitcouldn’twait.Andtheydidn’tknowwhatshedid.Ordersbasedonignorancecouldnotbelegitimate.Couldthey?
Shetookapictureofthenumbers,thensatforamomentstaringatthem.Anothermoment.Andanother.Thesecondshandsonalltheclocksaroundthewalls,allthetimezonesaroundtheworld,ticked.Ticked.Astheplanetcounteddown.
Tick.Tick.
Admonishingherforherindecision.Tsk.Tsk.
ThenAnahitaDahirstoodupsoquicklyherchairfellover.TheactivityinthelargeroomwassofranticonlytheFSOnexttohernoticed.
“Ana,areyouallright?”
ButshewasspeakingtoAnahita’sbackassheheadedforthedoor.
CHAPTER6
NasrinBukhariwatchedasthenumber61busfromtheairportintodowntownFrankfurtdrewup.
Itwasclearnowthatthemanwasfollowingher.Butthereseemedlittleshecoulddoaboutit.Shealmostcertainlycouldn’tshakehim.Shejusthadtohopethat,onceshereachedherdestination,thepeopletherewouldknowwhattodo.
Shewasclosenow.Againstallodds,she’dgottenthisfar.HowshewishedshecouldcallAmir.Hearhisvoice.Tellhimshewassafe,andhearthathewastoo
Shetookherseatandallowedherselftoglanceback.Therehewas,afewrowsbehind.
Sointentwassheonthenowfamiliarman,Nasrinfailedtonoticetheotherone
Anahitawaitedbythebankofelevators.JustoneopeneddirectlytoMahoganyRow.Paneled,notsurprisingly,inmahogany,itcouldbeenteredonlywithaspecialkey.
Therewasnootherwayup,andAnahitacertainlydidnothavethekey.Ortheclearance.
Butthewomanwaitingfortheelevatoralmostcertainlydid.Shewasbentoverherphone,typingquicklyandlookingstressed.Everyonelookedstressed,fromthesecurityguardstotheseniorofficials.
AnahitaturnedherIDaroundsohernamecouldnotbeseen,andhurriedoverwithadeterminedstep.Shestoppedand,lookingatthecloseddoor,heavedasighofimpatienceandmutteredsomethingunderherbreath.
Thenshetookoutherownphoneandlookedintentlyatit,tryingtoappearfocused.Headdown.Absorbed.
“Excuseme—”theotherwomanbegan,clearlywonderingwhothisstrangerwas.Andwhyshewantedtogototheseventhfloor.
Anahitalookedupandraisedherhandasiftosay,Justgivemeamoment.Thenwentbacktoherapparentlyvitalmessage.
Tomakeitlooklegit,shetyped,Whereareyou?Haveyouheardthenews?
Theelevatorarrived,andthewoman,nowbackonherphone,goton,withAnahitafollowing.
Everyonefrantichere,shecontinuedtowriteastheelevatordoorsclosed.Anythoughts?
Onceon,theywerewhiskeduptotheseventhfloor.
GilBahar’sphonevibratedwithanincomingmessage.
Shiftinginhisseat,hereadit;then,annoyed,heclickedhisphoneoffwithoutreplying.Hedidn’thavetimeforthisbullshit.
Afewminuteslater,asthebusleftthestationanditwassafetotakehiseyesoffhistarget,heopenedthephoneagainandsentaquickreply.
InFrankfurtonbus.Morelater.
Betsyforwardedthereply,withoutcomment,justasEllenwasgoingintothecabinetmeeting.
Shereadit,thensurrenderedherphonetotheSecretServiceagentatthedoor,whereitjoinedtheothersincubbyholes.
AsSecretaryAdamsenteredtheroom,afewcabinetcolleagueslookedatherandsaid,“Dirtywoman.”
Shesmiled,acknowledgingthejoke.Some,sheknew,werelaughingwithher.Othersather.
Thephrasehadgoneviral,and“DirtyWoman”hadquicklybeenadoptedandco-optedbywomen’sgroupsasarallyingcryagainsttoxicmasculinity.
Lookingaroundthetable,Ellenwouldhardlycallanyofhercolleaguesparticularlytoxic.
Whattheywere,sheknew,wasacollectionofsomeofthefinestmindsthecountryhadproduced.Infinance,ineducation,inhealthcare.Innationalsecurity.
Nonehadbeentaintedbytheabsurdityofthepreviousfouryears.Butasaresult,nonehadrecentexperienceatthehighestlevelofgovernance.Theyweresmart,someevenbrilliant,committed,well-meaning,andhardworking.Buttherewasnotadepthofknowledge,aninstitutionalmemory.Contactsandvitalconnectionshadn’tyetbeenmade.Trusthadnotyetbeenforgedbetweenthisadministrationandtheworldoutsidethesewalls.
Itstillhadtobeestablishedwithinthewalls,forGod’ssake.
Thepreviousadministrationhadpurgedanybodywhocriticizedpolicy.Itpunisheddissentingvoices.Itsilencedallcritics,fromSenatorstomembersofCongress,fromcabinetsecretariestochiefsofstafftojanitors.
TotalloyaltytoPresidentDunnandhisdecisions,nomatterhowego-drivenanduninformedandoutrightdangeroustheywere,hadbeendemanded.
Competencewasreplacedbyblindloyaltyasthedeterminingfactorforemploymentbyanincreasinglyderangedadministration.
SecretaryAdams,onenteringasSecState,hadquicklyrealizedtherewasnosuchthingastheDeepState.Therewasnothing“deep”aboutit.Nothinghidden.Careeremployeesandpoliticalappointeeswanderedthehallsandsatinmeetingsandsharedbathroomsandtablesinthecafeterias.
ThoseleftbehindbytheDunnadministrationhadthethousand-yardstareofcombatantsfinallydetachedfromthehorrorsaroundthem.Thehorrorstheythemselveshadperpetrated.
Andnow,onemonthin,thiscrisishappened.
“Ellen,”saidPresidentWilliams,turningtohisSecretaryofStateonhisleft,“whatcanyoutellus?”
Lookingathissmugexpressionashelobbedthegrenadeather,Ellenknewthatnotalltheviciousnesscamefromtheopposition.
Noteveryonewantedtohealoldwounds.
Anahitaallowedtheotherwomanofffirst,holdingherhandoutandsayingwithbothdeferenceandconfidence,“Please.”
Please.Please.
Shepausedattheelevator,supposedlytoreadanothervitalmessage,butinrealitytogivethewomantimetodisappearintoaroom.
Thenshelookeddownthelonghallway.
Tick,tick,tick.
ThefamousMahoganyRow.Itlookedlikeshe’dalightedintosomemen’sclubinNewYorkorLondon.Thecorridorinfrontofherwaswideanddark-paneled,theportraitsofformerSecretariesliningthewalls.Anahitacouldalmostsmellthecigars.
Whatsheactuallysmelledwastheslightlycloyingscentoftheorientalliliesinanexuberantarrangementonagleamingsidetablepartwaydownthecorridor.
MahoganyRowwasmagnificent.Itwasmeanttobemagnificent.Toimpressvisitors,bothforeignanddomestic.Itspokeofpowerandpermanence.
TwoDiplomaticSecurityagentsstoodoneithersideoftalldoubledoorshalfwaydownMahoganyRow.TheSecState’soffice,Anahitaguessed.
Thatshedidnotwant.Sheneededtheconferenceroom.Butwhichofthedoorswasit?Shecouldhardlyopenallofthem.
Theagentswerebeginningtoturninherdirection.
Anahitamadeadecision.Thiswasnotthetimetobehermother’sdaughter.Orherfather’s.Thiswasthetimetobesomeoneelse.
ShedecidedtochannelLindaMatar,herpersonalhero.
Clickingherphoneoffandleavingitwithsecurity,shewalkeddecisivelydownthecorridor,straighttotheagents.
“I’manFSOfromthePakistandesk.I’vebeentoldtodeliveramessagetomysupervisorinperson.WherecanIfindtheconferenceroom?”
“Yourbadge,ma’am?”
Ma’am?
Turningitaround,sheshowedittohim.
“Youshouldn’tbeonthisfloor.”
“Yes,Iknow.ButI’vebeentoldtodeliveramessage.Look,friskme,staywithme,dowhatever,butIneedtodeliverthemessage.Now.”
Tick,tick,tick.
Theofficersexchangedglances.Atanodfromtheseniorofthetwo,thefemaleagentgaveAnahitaaquickpat-down,thenwalkedwithherdownthecorridortoadoorwithoutanumberoraplate.
Anahitaknocked.Once.Twice.Louder.Harder.
LindaMatar.Breathe.LindaMatar.Breathe.
Thedoorflewopen.“Yes,”demandedalean,ferret-facedyoungman.“Whatisit?”
“IneedtospeakwithDanielHolden.MynameisAnahitaDahir.I’minhisbureau.Ihaveamessageforhim.”
“We’reinameeting.Hecan’tbedist—”
LindaMatar.
Anahitapushedpasthim.
“Hey,”heshouted.
Allfacesaroundthetableturned.Anahitastoppedandputherarmsoutinagestureofsurrender.Showingshemeantnoharm.Shescannedthefacesfor—
“Whatthehellareyoudoinghere?”DanielHoldenstoodup,glaringather.
“Themessage.”
Theagentsclosedinonher,justasherbosssaid,“Iknowher.It’sallright.”ThenhefocusedonAnahita.“Iknowyoubelieveyourmessageisimportant.Everythingtodayisimportant,including,especially,whatwe’rediscussing.Youneedtoleave.I’llspeakwithyoulater.”
Histonewascalmbutfirm.
LindaMatarwouldnotstandtobepatronized.
ButAnahitaDahirwasnotactuallyher.Shenodded,herfaceburning,andbackedup.“I’msorry,sir.”
Then,pushingpasthermotherandfatherandherneedtoplease,Anahitaturned,grabbedhishand,andshovedthecrumpledpaperintoit.
“Readit.ForGod’ssake,readit.There’sgoingtobeanotherattack.”
HewatchedasAnahitawasrushedoutthedoor,temptedtocallherback.Then,glancingatthepaper,hesawtherewasnomentionofanotherattack,justnumbersandsymbols.TheFSOwasjustanotherpanickedjunioroperative,tryingtomakeherselfmoreimportantthanshewas.Hedidn’thavetimeforthatnow.
Placingthepaperinhisjacketpocketandresolvingtolookatitlater,hereturnedtohisseat,apologizingfortheinterruption.
Tick,tick,tick.
Outside,securityescortedAnahitadownthehalltotheelevatorandwatchedherleave.
Anahitareturnedtoherdeskseveralfloorsbelow,knowingshe’dfailed.
Bythelookonhersupervisor’sface,sheknewhewouldn’treadthemessage.Notintime,anyway.
Well,she’dtried.She’ddoneherbest.
Shelookedatthescreens,thescenesfromParisandLondon.Ofwoundedmenandwomen,coveredinashanddustandblood.Ofpassersbytryingtostaunchunstaunchablewounds.Kneelingdownandholdingthehandsofthedying.Lookingup.Seekinghelp.
Theywerescenesofterribledestruction,ofcarnage.TheendlessloopofCCTVfootageofmenandwomen,Prometheus-like,beingmurderedoverandover.
Therewerejustovertwohoursleftbeforethenextexplosion,ifthatmessage,thatwarning,wastobebelieved.
Therewas,Anahitaknew,onemorethingshecouldtry.Somethingshewasloathtodo,butnowhadto.
GoingonFacebook,shefoundaformerclassmate.Andfromhim,shegotanothername,andfromher,another.
Until,twentypreciousminuteslater,shehadtheonesheneeded.Theonesheloathed.
SecretaryAdamsleftthecabinetmeetingearlyandwasdriven,forwhatfeltlikethehundredthtimesinceshe’dbeenrousedfrombedat2:35thatmorning,betweentheWhiteHouseandFoggyBottom.
OnceatState,shewentdirectlytotheSecretary’sprivateconferenceroom,whereshewasjoinedbyCharlesBoynton,herChiefofStaff,andotheraides.
Callswereputthroughtocontacts,tocounterparts,tosecurityanalysts.
Facedwithavacuumofinformation,thehivemindthatwasthecabinethaddecidedtherewouldnotbeanotherattack.Andiftherewas,itprobablywouldn’tbeonAmericansoil.
So,whiletragic,thiswasnotamatterofnationalsecurity.Theywouldhelptheiralliesinanywaypossible,butwhattheyneededtoprojecttotheAmericanpeoplewasconfidencethattheyweresecure.
WhenpressedbyEllen,herheadofState’sBureauofIntelligenceandResearchsaidtheyhadnoproofeitherway,butthatsincenoorganizationhadtakenresponsibility,itseemedreasonabletoassumethetwoexplosionswerebylonewolvesworkinginunison.
“Howisthatpossible?”Ellenhadasked.“Bydefinition,lonewolvesdon’tworkinunison.”
“Maybeitwasasmallpack.”
“Ahhh,”shesaid,anddecidednottowastetimeorbreathonthis.
Now,asshesatintheprivateconferenceroom,listeningtoreportsrevealingnothingnew,shewonderedhowbigamistakeithadbeentoleavethecabinetmeeting.
Atthatlevelofpolitics,EllenAdamswasappreciating,ifyouweren’tatthetable,youwereonthemenu.
Butletthemdotheirworst.Thiswasthetablesheneededtobeat.
“GettheDirectorofNationalIntelligenceontheline,”shesaid.“Ihavesomequestions.”
CHAPTER7
Thefirstbombhadonlygoneoffafewhoursearlier,butalreadyaccountantsweresittinginKatherineAdams’soffice,warningheroftheirownloomingcrisis.
“Wecan’tjustwiremoneytoouroverseasbureauswilly-nilly,”theheadofaccountingforInternationalMediaCorpwasexplaining.“Weneedjustification.Atthisrate,we’llhavesentamilliondollarsbynoon.”
“Willy-nilly?”demandedKatherine’sheadofthenewsdivision.“Haveyoupulledyourheadoutofyourasslongenoughtonotice…”HewavedatthesilentmonitorsstreamingthegrislyimagesbroadcastingonIMCstationsdomesticallyandinternationally.“Isn’tthatjustificationenough?Myjournalistsneedsupport,andthatcomesintheformofmoney.Now.”
“Ifwecouldgetreceipts—”oneoftheaccountantsbegan.
“Right.Writteninbloodworkforyou?”heyelled.
TheybothlookedatKatherine,exasperated.
She’donlybeentheCEOforacouplemonths,andthiswasherfirstrealtest.Butshe’dbeenraisedinamediafamily,watchinghermothernavigatejournalisticissues,politicalissues.Fairnessissues.Jugglingegosandpersonalities,whichloomedlargeinbothjournalistsandpoliticians.Oftenblottingoutthesun.Andreason.
Allthishadbeendiscussedwithherparentsatthedinnertable.Allherlife.Shehadapprenticedforthisjob.Allherlife.
Whileherhalfbrothertookafterhisownfatherandwasthejournalist,shetookaftertheirmotherandwasthemanager.
Butnothinghadpreparedherformanagingthis.Whatshehadlearnedwastheartoflookingconfidentwhenallshewantedwastoduckandcoverunderthedeskandletsomeoneelsemakedecisions.
“Wehavetoremainrational,”theheadaccountantappealedtoher.“Ifwe’reauditedandwehavenoproofofwherethemoneywent…”
“Whatwillhappen?”demandedthejournalist.“Willyoubeblownup?Youdon’tseemtounderstand.Journalistsareonthefrontline.They’regettinginformationonthesebombsfasterthanintelligenceagencies.Andhowdotheydoit?Byaskingpolitely?Bysayingpleaseandthankyou?Byofferingmilkand—”
“Igetthepoint,butyouneedtoimpressonyourjournaliststhatthisisn’ttheirmoney.Theyneedtobegrownup—”
HelookedatKatherineAdams.
Saysomething,thoughtKatherine.Takecharge.ForGod’ssake,saysomething.
“Grownup?Doyouhaveanyideawhatittakestocoverwars,insurgencies,”saidthechiefjournalist.“Tospendyearsgroomingcontactsinterroristorganizations,nevermindtheintelligenceagencies,whichcanbefarscarier.Ittakestwothings.Courageandmoney.Theyprovidethecourage,sinceyouhavenoneofthattooffer,andyoucanatleastprovidethemoney.Now.”
HeturnedtoKatherineinfrustration.“Youexplain.I’mleaving.”
Theroomshudderedasthedoorslammedshutbehindhim.TheaccountantsturnedtoKatherineandwaited.Andwaited.
“Justdoit,”shesaid.
“We’rebleedingmoney,Katherine.”
Katherinelookedoverhisshoulder,atthebankofmonitors.AtthescenesinLondonandParis.Thensherefocusedonthechiefaccountant.Alifelongfriendofthefamily.
“Doit.”
Whenhe’dgatheredhispapersandpeopleandleft,shelookedattheemailfromhermother.She’dcopiedKatherineonherrequesttotheheadofnewstosharewiththeStateDepartmentanyinformationtheirjournalistsgatheredthatmighthelp.
Beforeitwenttoair.
Katherinehadn’taskedtheheadofnewsifheplannedtodoit.Andtheheadofnewshadnotvolunteeredtotellher.
Besttonotbeseentryingtoinfluence.Orbeinfluenced.
Whatwasclearwasthathermotherwasthrowingawidenet,tryingtogetasmuchinformationaspossible.There’devenbeentherumor,broadcastontheirall-newschannel,thatSecretaryAdamshadreachedouttoherimmediatepredecessors,askingforanyinsighttheymighthave.
ThatwasalternatelyinterpretedbythepunditsasaboldinitiativebyaSecStatewhocouldputasideegoandpartyforthesakeofthecountryor,alternatively,astupidwasteoftimebyadesperateandincompetentSecretaryofStatewayoutofherdepth.
Therewasaknock;thenKatherine’sdooropenedandherassistantentered,alongwithablastoffranticactivity.“Youmightwanttoseethis.Itcameinonyouroldemailaddress.”Shehandedthephonetoherboss.“Lookslikesheknewyoufromschool.”
“Idon’thavetime—”
“SheworksattheStateDepartmentnow.”
“Great,thanks.”
Whenherassistantleft,Katherineglancedatthemessage.Itwasshort.Abrupteven.
Wewereathighschooltogether.Ineedtospeaktoyou.Itwassigned,AnahitaDahir,FSO,South-CentralAsiaBureau,DepartmentofState.
Katherinesatbackinherchair.SherememberedanAnaDab-something.Mousylittlegirlwho’dratonanyonewhosmokedortoked,whotriedtosneakinlateorcheatonanexam.
Ateacher’spetwhoeventheteachersdespised.
They’dtakenpleasuretossingballsather,nottoher,inbasketball.Trippingherinsoccer.Hittinghershinsinfieldhockey.
Notbullying.Itwaspayback.Notpunishment,theyoungKatherineAdamsknew.Itwasaconsequence.AnaDab-somethingbroughtitonherself.
Butnow,fifteenyearson,KatherineAdamsknewsomethingelse.Ithadbeencruel.
WhatintheworldcouldAnawantwithKatherinenow?Todayofalldays.
ShehitreplyandaskedforAna’snumber.Itappearedinseconds.Sheplacedthecall,anditwasimmediatelypickedup.
“Ana?”
“Katie?”
“Listen,Ana,I’vebeenmeaningtotrytogetintouchforawhile.I’msorry—”
“Bequietandlisten,”saidAna.Katherine’sbrowsshotup.ThiswasnottheAnaDab-somethingsheremembered.“Ineedtospeaktoyourmother.”
“What?Whereareyou?Isthatatoilet?”
Itwas.
Assoonasshe’dreceivedKatherine’semail,Anahitahadleftherdeskandgonetothewomen’sbathroom.Shewasinastallandhadflushedthetoilettocoverherwords.
“I’mbeggingyou.Canyougetmeintoyourmother?”
“Why?What’sthisabout?Isittodowiththebombings?”
Anahitaknewshe’dbeasked,andknewthatKatie,nowKatherine,Adamshadtakenoverfromhermotherasheadofthemassiveandpowerfulnewsorganization.
ThelastthingAnawantedwastohavewhatsheknewleakedalloverthenews.
“Ican’ttellyou.”
“Well,you’regonna,”saidKatherine.“I’mnotsureevenIcangetintoseeher.WhyshouldIgetyouin?”
“Becauseyouoweme.”
“What?Ioweyouanapology,whichI’vetriedtogive.AndIamsorry.ButIdon’toweyouthis.”
“Please.Please.Ihavesomethingsheneedstosee.”
“What?”
Flush.“I’mnotgoingto”—flush—“tellyou!”
Flush.
“Oh,forGod’ssake,beforeyouemptythePotomac,meetmeoutsidetheStatebuilding,21stStreetentrance,northeastcorner.”
“Bequick.”
“Yeah,well,nowIhavetogotothebathroom.”
Tick.Tick.
Anahitalookedatherphone.She’dsetheralarmtogooffat12:48p.m,1848inEurope.Whenthebombwouldgooff.
Herphonesaid12:01.Aminutepastnoon.Theyhadforty-sevenminutes.
“Ana?”
Anahitaturnedandsawavaguelyfamiliarwomanrunningacrossthestreet.Sheworeanon-pointtweedcoat,bootsthatlookedliketheyweremadeforriding.Shehadlongchestnuthairanddeepbrowneyes.
ThegrownwomantothegirlAnahadlastseenturningherbackonherthatlastdayofschool.
Katherinesawalmostexactlythesamegirlshe’dlastseenfifteenyearsearlier,suckinguptotheprincipalonthelastdayofschool.Withoutpurpose,butjustbecause.
PrettierthanKatherineremembered.Herlonghairjet-black,herskintawnyandclear.Herbrowneyesasintenseasever.Butnowtheyheldaconfidence,adeterminationthathadn’tbeentherebefore.
“Katie?”saidAnahita.“Thankyouformeetingme.”
“Whatdoyouhave?”
Anahitahesitated.“Ican’ttellyou.Youhavetotrustme.”
“Ican’tjustgetyouin.Canyouimaginewhatmymother’supagainst?Tointerrupther—”
“IknowexactlywhatSecretaryAdamsisupagainst.Evenbetterthanshedoes.Look,Ihaveinformation.”WhenKatielookednotjustskepticalbutconcernedthatshewasdealingwithamadwomanorworse,Anahitasaid,“Haveyoueverknownmetobeanythingbutstraight?Toostraightsometimes.Ineverlie.Inevercheat.Ineverbreaktherules.I’vetriedtoshowthisinformationtomysupervisor,butIdon’tthinkhe’stakingitseriously.Please.”
Katherinelookedatthefaceinfrontofher.Therewasrealfearthere.Shetookadeepbreath,thenexhaled,andbringingoutherphone,shesentamessage.
Amomentlatertherewasading.
“Comeon.Wecanatleastgetuptotheseventh,butIcan’tguaranteemymotherwillseeyou.”
Anahurriedafter,hershorterlegstakingtwoquickstepstoKatherine’sone.
Tick.Tick.
Anolderwomanmettheminthelobby.ShelookedlikeMrs.CleaverfromtheLeaveIttoBeaverrerunsAnahitawatchedonlate-nighttelevisionwhenshecouldn’tsleep.
“Thisismymother’sclosestfriendandnowcounselor,”saidKatherine.“BetsyJameson,AnaDab—umm—”
“Dahir.”
“Ihaveyourpasses.”Betsyhandedthemout.“Whatthehellisthisabout?You’vechosenashittytimetovisit.”
Anahitaraisedherbrows.Mrs.Cleaver’sscriptseemedtohavechanged.
“Idon’tknowwhatthis’sabout,”KatherineadmittedastheyfollowedBetsytothewood-paneledelevatorthatwaswaitingfortheminthelobby.“Shewon’ttellme.”
OnlywhenthedoorswhiskedclosedandtherewasnoturningbackdidAnahitarememberthetwosecurityagentsandprayedthere’dbeenashiftchange.
Shelookedatherphone.
Forty-oneminutesleft.
Gilstoodinlineatthebusterminal,nolongerbotheringtohide.Infact,hewantedhertoseehim.Toknow.Tofeelthathotbreath.
Bynowthewomancertainlyknewhewasfollowingher.Buthealsoknewshecouldnotdeviatefromherplan.Andneithercouldhe.
Nasrinlettwobusescomeandgo.Whenthethirdpulledup,shegoton.HoldingAmir’swornsatcheltighttoherchest,sheinhaledhismuskyscent.
Theleathercasewas,shenowadmitted,almostcertainlyallshehadleftofhim.They’driskedeverythingtogetit,andher,out.
She’dlosteverything.He’dlostmore.
Butwiththatcameanunexpectedcalm,andfreedom.Theworsthadhappened.Shewasnolongerafraid.
Nasrinsettledintothebackcorner.Shecould,atleast,watchhimthistime,insteadoftheotherwayaround.
Gilgotonandsatacrossandonerowdownfromher.
Theothermansat,unnoticed,immediatelyinfrontofNasrin.
Andthenthenumber119buspulledout.
“Halt!”
Anahitadid.
“Whatthehellisthis?”demandedBetsy.“She’smyguest.Letherby.”
“Doyouknowthiswoman?”thefemaleagentdemanded,herhandrestingonhergun.
“OfcourseIdo,”Mrs.Cleaverlied.“Anddoyouknowher?”BetsypointedtoKatherine.
Theagentsnodded.
“Good.Letusthrough.”
Anahita’sheartwaspoundingsohardshethoughttheycouldsurelyseeitthrobbingthroughherthickwintercoat.
Thewomanagentglaredather,thennodded.Onefirmjerkofherhead.
“Thankyou,”saidAnahita,thoughthatonlyseemedtofurtherinfuriatetheagent.
Theyenteredtheouteroffice.ItwasnotatallwhatAnahitahadimagined.She’dexpectedmoredarkpaneling.Largeleatherchairs.Somethick-pilerugthatlookedimpressive,ifnotexaminedtooclosely.
Likesomuchelseingovernment,shewaslearningsomethingneweveryday.Magnificent,ifyoudidn’tgettooclose.
ButSecretaryAdams’swaitingroomwasnotlikethatatall.Itwasworse.
Therewasscaffolding.Tarps.Thewornandpatchedwoodfloorwasexposedandcoveredinalayerofplasterdust.Itwasaconstructionsite.SecretaryAdamswasremakingtheofficeoftheSecretaryofState.Ineveryway.
“Waithere,”saidBetsy.“You”—shepointedatKatherine—“comewithme.”
“Hurry,please,”saidAnahita.
Betsystopped,turned,andAnahitaexpectedsomesharpreply.Insteadshesawatired,worried,sympatheticface.
“Wewill.Youcanrelax,you’vedoneit.You’rein.SecretaryAdamswillbewithyouinamoment.”
AnahitawatchedBetsyandKatherinedisappearintothenextroom.
Shedidnotrelax.Mrs.Cleavermeantwell,butshedidn’tknowwhatAnahitaknew.
Shecheckedherphone.
Thirty-eightminutesleft.
ThebusbumpedalongtowardthefarsideofFrankfurt,stoppingtoletmenandwomenandchildrenoff.
Toletmenandwomenandchildrenon.
CHAPTER8
EllenAdamsappearedwithherChiefofStaffhardonherheels.Anahita’seyesinvoluntarilywidened.She’donlyeverseentheSecretaryatadistanceorontelevision.
ShewastallerthanAnahitahadthought.Butjustasintense.
“Youhaveinformation?”saidSecretaryAdams,walkingrightuptoher.
“Here.”
AnahitashovedherphoneattheSecretaryofState,whotookit,looked,thenpassedthephonetoBoynton.
“Whatisthat?”Ellendemanded.
“AphotographItookofamessagethatcameintomystationlastnight.I’manFSOonthe—”
“Pakistandesk,yes.Whatdoesitmean?”
“This’sawasteoftime,MadameSecretary,”saidBoynton,holdingupthephone.“She’sajuniorFSO.Wehaveseniorintelligencestaffintheboardroom,waiting.She”—hegesturedtowardAnahita—“can’tpossiblyknowanythingourintelligenceservicedoesn’t.”
Ellenroundedonhim.“Which,fromallI’veheard,isnothing.Shecanhardlydoworse.”SheturnedbacktothejuniorFSO.“Explain.”
AnahitagrabbedthephonefromBoyntonandsteppedbesideSecretaryAdams,leaningintoher.Theirshoulderstouching.
“Lookatthenumbers,MadameSecretary.”
“Iam—”Ellenbegan,thenfellsilentasthenumbersseparatedandregroupedandformedsomethingterrifying.
Thethinginthecloset.Thethingunderthebed.Thethingdownthedarkalleythatnoamountofsingingcoulddriveaway.
Alltheunimaginablehorrorscametogether,inthosefigures.
“They’rethebusroutesandtimesofthetwopreviousexplosions,”saidEllen.“Andthere’sathird.”Hervoicewasbarelymorethanawhisper,asthoughanythinglouderwouldsetitoff.“Thiswassenttoyoulastnight?”
“Yes.”
“What?”demandedBoynton,steppingforwardtolook.
BetsyandKatherinealsocrowdedaround.
ThenBoynton,Betsy,andKatherinespokeatonce,butEllenputupherhandsforsilence.
“Wherewillithappen?”sheasked.
“Idon’tknow.”
“Whosentit?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Great,”saidBoynton.Noonewaslisteningtohim.Orappearedtobelistening.
ButSecretaryAdamstookitinandfileditawaywiththerestofhisbehavior.
“IfIhadtoguess,I’dsaythenexttargetisalsoinEurope,”saidAnahita.
Ellengaveaquick,decisivenod.“Agreed.Sincewehavetonarrowitdown,thatseemsreasonable.Ifthat’sthecase—”Shecheckedthetimeanddidthecalculations.“OhGod.”ShelookedatBetsy.“There’retwenty-fourminutesleft.”
Betsy,lostforwords,blanched.
“Comewithme,”saidEllen.
Theyfollowedherintoherprivateconferenceroom.Allthechairswereoccupied,andalleyesturnedtothem.
SecretaryAdamsexplainedsuccinctlywhattheyhadandwhatwasabouttohappen.
“Iwantthiscodesenttoeveryalliedintelligenceorganization.AndIwantalistofEuropeancapitalswithnumber119busroutes.YoucanleaveoutLondonandParis.Iwantitinfiveminutes.”
Therewasamoment’spause,asthoughthey’dbeensuspended,andthentheplaceburstintoactivity.
“GettheheadofIntelligencefortheEuropeanUnionontheline,”EllensaidtoBoyntonassheheadedquicklybackintoherprivateoffice.Standingatherdesk,abouttositdown,shelookedathim.
HerChiefofStaffwasstandingatthedoor.
“What?”shesaid.
Helookedbehindhim,intotheconferenceroomandthehiveofactivity.Thenhesteppedintoherofficeandclosedthedoor.
“Youdidn’taskwhyher.”
“I’msorry.”
“TheyoungFSO.Whyher?Whydidthewarningcomeintoher?”
Ellenwasabouttosaythatitdidn’tmatter,butstoppedherself.Realizingthatitprobablydid.
“GettheEUIntelligenceDirectorontheline,thenfindoutwhatyoucanaboutAnahitaDahir.”
Sittingdown,shebroughtoutherphoneandsentamessagetoherson:Pleasecontactme.
Herfingerhoveredovertheheartemoji,thenmovedoverandhitthesendarrow.
Thenshewaited.Waited.
Tick.Tick.
Therewasnoreply.
“Wehaveit,”saidtheseniorintelligenceanalystfortheStateDepartment,rushingintoEllen’soffice.
ShewasjustoffthephonewiththeheadofEUIntelligence,informingherofwhattheyhad.
Theanalystputthelistinfrontofher.Theotherswererangedbehindhim,watchingassheread.Itdidn’ttakelong.Itwasasurprisinglyshortlist.
LondonandPariscouldbestrickenoff.ThatleftRome,Madrid,andFrankfurt.
“Isonemorelikelythantherest?”shedemanded.
Thereweresixminutesleft.
“Notthatwecantell,MadameSecretary.Wehavecallsintothetransportdepartmentsofeachcity,butit’snowpastsix,andtheofficesareclosed.”
Theywerestaringwide-eyedather.EllenturnedtoBoynton.“GetInterpol.Tellthemtoalertthepoliceineachofthesecities.Katherine!”
“Yes?”herdaughtercalled,appearingatthedoor,phonetoherear.
“Rome,Madrid,Frankfurt.Getthewordout.”
“Gotit.”
“What’shappening?”askedAnahitaasshewatchedagroupofsenioranalystsrushfromtheroomtowardtheSecretaryofState’soffice.
“Theyhavethelistofcitieswithnumber119buses,”saidanaide.
“Whatarethey?”
Theaideshovedthelistdownthetable.
AsAnahitareadit,herbrowsknittedinthought.Andthentheyunfurrowedashereyeswidened.
“Jesus,Frankfurt,”shemutteredandbroughtoutherphone.
Therewerefourandahalfminutesleft.
Herhandsshaking,shetapped.Broughtupthewrongmessage.Tappedagain.AndGil’smessagefromthatmorningappeared.
OnwaytoFrankfurt.
Shetyped,YouinFrankfurt?Onabus?Now?Andhittheurgenticon.
Yes,Gilrepliedasherelaxedinhisseat.Ithadbeenalongtwenty-sixhours,buttheywerealmostthere.
Why?Anahitawrote.
Followinglead.
Whatkead.Anahita,fingerstrembling,hadhitsendbeforenoticingthetypo.Shewasintheprocessofcorrectingwhenhereplied.
Can’tsay.
WhereareyouinF?
Shewaited.Staringatherscreen.Please.Please.
Threeminutesandtwentyseconds…
Onbus.
Whichbus?
Doesitmatter?
!!!!!
#119
Gilputhisphoneinhispocketandsettledback,watchingthekidsinfrontofhimpokeandshoveeachother.Acrosstheway,anolderwomanwatchedthem,nodoubtgratefultheyweren’therchildrenorgrandchildren.
Thebuswaspacked,andGilwonderedifheshouldofferhisseattosomeone,butheneededtowatchDr.Bukhari,toseewhereshe’dgetoff.Andifhisinformantwasright.
Getoff!Bomb!!
Buttherewasnoreply.
Anahitastaredatthescreen.Comeon.Comeon.
Nothing.
Shetriedcalling.
Nothing.
ShegotupandrantotheSecretaryofState’soffice.Securitytriedtostopher,butonceagainshepushedpast.
“Afriend,”sheshouted.“Afriendisonthenumber119businFrankfurt.He’sfollowingalead.Itriedtotellhimtherewasabomb,buthedidn’treply.”
“Alead?”saidBetsy.“He’sajournalist?”
“Yes.”
BetsyswungaroundandstaredatEllen.
AsSecretaryAdamspulledoutherphone,BetsyturnedbacktoAnahita.“What’shisname?”
Ellenlookedatthelastpersonalmessageshe’dreceived.Fromherson.
InFrankfurtonbus.Morelater.
“Gil,”saidAnahita.“GilBahar.”ShelookedfromBetsy’sshockedfacetoEllen’s.Hermouthopen,hereyeswide.
Ellen,trembling,hitthephoneiconandheldBetsy’seyes.
“What?”demandedAnahita.
“GilBahar’sherson,”saidCharlesBoynton.
Alltheairhadbeensuckedoutoftheroom.
Therewerethreeminutesandfivesecondsleft.
EveryonestaredatEllen.
Katherineenteredandstopped.“What’shappened?”
Betsywentovertoher.“Gil’sonthenumber119businFrankfurt.Yourmother’scallinghim.”
“OhGod,”shesaid,andcouldmanagenomore.
Thebusstopped,andthekidsinfront,noticingthestop,screamed,and,leapingup,theygotoff.JustasthemansittinginfrontofNasrinleft.
Butheleftsomethingbehind.
Afewfamiliesgoton.Someteens.Anoldercouple.
Gilfelthisphonevibratewithanincomingcallbutignoredit.HeneededtofocusonDr.Bukhariateachstop,tomakesureshedidn’tgetoffattheverylastmoment.
Thebusstartedup,andhepulledoutthephone.
“Fuck,”hesaidandhitthereddecline.
“Hedeclined,”saidEllen.
“Usemyphone,”saidKatherine.Shedialedandhandedittohermother.
Therewasaminuteandtensecondsleft.
Onceagain,hisphonevibrated.
Giltookitout,expectingtoseehismother’spicture.
Insteadthephotographhesawwasofhishalfsister,Katherine.
“Hi,Katie—”
“Listentomeclosely,”saidhismother,hervoicestern,calm.
“Oh,shit,”saidGilandwenttohitEndCall.
“There’sabomb,”saidEllen,hervoicerising.
“What?”
“There’sabombonyourbus.”Thecalmwasshattered.Hervoicerosetoalmostashout.“Youhavejustoveraminute.Go!”
Ittookhimasplitsecondtoregisterthewords,thepanic,themeaning.
Hestoodupandyelled,“Stopthebus!There’sabomb!”
Theotherpassengerslookedathim,thencringedawayfromtheAmericanmadman.
HereachedoutforNasrin,grabbingherarm.“Getup!Getoff.”
ShepushedhimawayandlashedoutwithAmir’ssatchel.Batteringhimandcallingforhelp.
Sothiswashowheplannedtogetheroff,shethought,hermindandadrenalineracing.
Leavingher,Gilrantothefrontandshoutedatthedriver.
“Stop!Geteveryoneoff.”
Heturnedandlookeddownthelongbus,atthefacesstaringathim.Themen,women,children.Terrified.Notofabomb,butofhim.
“Please,”hebegged.
Tick.Tick.
Theywatchedasthewallofclocksinthemagnificentofficecounteddown.Inthebackground,muffled,theycouldhearGilyelling,begging.
Nineteen.
Eighteen.
“Gil!”hismothershouted.“Getoff!”
Finallythebusshudderedtoastop.Thedooropenedandthedrivergotup.
“Thank—”Gilbeganbeforehefeltthedriver’shandsgriphisjacket.
Andhewastossedout.
Ten.
Nine.
Theireyeswide.Theirbreathingstopped.
“Eight,”Anahitawhispered.
Landingonthehardpavement,bruisedandwinded,helookedupasthebusdroveaway.Staggeringtohisfeet,Gilranafterit;then,realizinghecouldnevercatchup,heturnedtothepedestrians.
Three.
Two.
“Getback,getdown.It’s—”
Tick…tock.
Ellen’sfacewentwhitejustasAnahita’salarmwentoff.
CHAPTER9
ThephoneslippedfromEllen’shandanddroppedtothefloor.Light-headed,shereachedbehindher,tryingtosteadyherself.Tokeepherselfupright.
Framedphotos,mementos,alampcrasheddown.
Then,inapanic,shestoopedtoretrievethephone.
“Gil?!”sheshoutedintoit.“Gil??”
Butthelinewasdead.
“Gil?”shewhisperedintothemonstroussilence.
“Mom?”saidKatherine,steppingtowardher.
“Itexploded,”shemuttered,hereyeswide,staringatherdaughter,thenatBetsy.
Andthen,pandemonium,aseveryoneintheroomburstintoaction,shoutingorders.
“Stop!”
Theydid.AllturnedandlookedatSecretaryAdams.Betsywasononesideofhernow,Katherineontheother.
Tensecondshadpassedsincetheexplosion.
“Doweknowtheexactlocationofthebus?”Ellendemanded.
“Yes.Itcanbetracedfromthephoneconnection,”saidBoynton.Hegrabbedthephone,hitsomekeys,andnodded.“Gotit.”
“SendthattotheGermans,”SecretaryAdamscommanded.“AndcallemergencyservicesinFrankfurt.Now!”
“Yes,MadameSecretary.”
Aidesweretoldtoinformalltheintelligenceservicesaboutwhatjusthappened,andtocontacttheAmericanconsulateinFrankfurtandgetpeoplethere.
“AndtellthemtofindGil,”Ellencalledafterthem.“GilBahar.”Shespelleditout,theletterschasingthehurryingaidesdownthehall.
SheturnedtoKatherine,whowastryingtoraiseGilonthephone.Katherineshookherhead.TheylookedatAnahita,whowasalsotrying.
Hereyeswerewide,herphonetoherear.Nothing.
“I’mcallingourbureauinFrankfurt.Theycangettherefast,”saidKatherine,herfingerpoundingthescreenofherphone.“You,”shesaidtoAnahita,“keeptryingmybrother.”
Ananodded.
Phonesbeganringing,dinging,alerting.
BetsyturnedonthemonitorsandstaredasDr.Philinterviewedawomanwhosehusbandwastransitioningintoawoman,andwhohadtobreakittoherthatsheherselfwastransitioningintoaman.
Click.
JudgeJudywasadjudicatingacasewhereaneighborkeptstealingateatowelfromaclothesline.
Click.Click.
Nothingyet.Ithadbeenjustoveraminute.
Click.
“MadameSecretary,I’veinformedtheGermanChancellorandsentthecoordinatestotheirintelligenceandemergencyservices,”Boyntonreported.“ShouldweinformthePresident?”
“President?”askedEllen.
“OftheUnitedStates.”
“OhGod,yes.I’lldothat.”
Ellensatheavily,allbutcollapsingintoherchair,anddroppedherheadintoherhands.Herfingersclutchedherscalp.Whensheraisedherhead,hereyeswerebloodshot,buttherewasnootherindicationshemighthavejustheardhersonmurdered.
“GetPresidentWilliamsontheline,please.”
Reportswerecominginfastandfuriousasaidespassedonwhattheyhad.
“Mr.President,there’sbeenanotherbombing.”
“Holdon.”
DougWilliamsindicatedtohisChiefofStaffthatsheshouldendthemeetingwithrepresentativesoftheSmallBusinessAdministrationandcleartheOvalOffice.
Whenhewasalone,Williamsturnedandlookedoutacrossthelawn.
“Where?”
“Frankfurt.Anotherbus.”
“Shit.”Atleastnothere,hecouldn’thelpbutthink.
Sittingdownathisdesk,heputheronspeakerandrapidlytypedintothesecuresearchengineonhislaptop.“Iseenothingonline.”
BarbStenhauserreturned,herbodylanguageaskingthequestion.Butallshegotwasaquickgestureshetook,rightly,tomeansheneededtoscrollthroughthechannelsonthemonitors.
“Anotherexplosion,”hecalledtoheracrosstheOvalOffice.“Frankfurt.”
“Shit.”LeavingthechannelonCNN,shegrabbedherphone.
“Whendidthishappen?”heaskedEllen.
Shelookedattheclockandwassurprisedtoseeithadbeenonlyaminuteandahalf.“Ninetysecondsago.”
Itseemedforever.
“We’veinformedtheGermangovernmentandtheinternationalintelligencecommunity,”saidSecretaryAdams.“Alertshavegoneoutoversecurechannels.”
“Waitaminute.YoutoldtheGermans?Nottheotherwayaround?Howdidyoufindoutsoquickly?”
Ellenpaused,notwantingtotellhim.Butsheknewshehadto.
“Mysonwasonthebus.”
Thatwasmetwithsilence.
“I’msorry,”hesaid,andalmostsoundedit.
“Hemight’vegottenoff,”shesaid.“Itsounds…”Shegatheredherself.“…likehemight’ve.”
“Youweretalkingtohim?Atthetime?”
“CanIcomeandseeyou,Mr.President,toexplainthesequenceofevents?”
“Ithinkyou’dbetter.”
BythetimeEllenarrivedattheWhiteHouseclutchingherphone,refusingtogiveittotheSecretServiceincaseGilshouldcall,theDirectorofNationalIntelligence,theDirectoroftheCIA,andGeneralWhitehead,theChairoftheJointChiefs,werealreadyintheOvalOffice.
“HomelandSecurityandDefenseshouldbewithussoon,”saidPresidentWilliams,“butwewon’twait.”
Hedidn’tmentionGil,whichwasarelief.ThoughEllensuspecteditwasn’ttospareherpain.Morelikelyitwaseitheremotionalcowardice,orhe’dforgotten.
Ellenwentquickly,succinctly,throughwhathadhappened.Bythentheworldknewabouttheexplosion.Theimageswerealloverthenews.TVhostswerenearhystericalwitheitheranxietyorexcitement.Journalistswereatthescene,gettingcloserthantheyshouldhavebeenallowedasthenormallyefficientGermanpolicetriedtoregaincontrolofthearea.Ambulances,firetrucksweretryingtogetthrough.
“AreyousayingajuniorFSOreceivedawarning?”demandedTimBeecham,theDNI.“Nooneelseintheworld,inoursophisticatedintelligencenetwork,allourseasonedoperatives,nooneelsepickeditup.Insteadsomeonesentherthemessage?”
“Yes,”saidEllen,who’djusttoldthemexactlythat.
“Butwho?”askedthePresident.
“Wedon’tknow.Sheerasedthemessage.”
“Erased?”
“It’sprotocol.Shethoughtitwasspam.”
“WasitfromaNigerianprince?”askedtheDirectorofHomelandSecurity,whohadjustarrived.Noonelaughed.
“Whyher?”askedthePresident.“ThisAna…”
“AnahitaDahir.Idon’tknow—”
“AnahitaDahir,”mumbledtheheadoftheCIA,andlookedatNationalIntelligence.
“Ididn’thavetimetoask,”SecretaryAdamswassaying.“I’mjustgratefulshereacted.”
“Toolate,”saidtheSecretaryofDefense.“Allthebombswentoff.”
Ellenwassilent.Itwas,afterall,true.
TheDirectorofNationalIntelligenceexcusedhimself,thenreturnedaminutelater.
GeneralWhiteheadwatchedthat,hisheadtiltedslightly.HeslidaglanceovertoSecretaryAdamsandgaveherasmallsmilethatshouldhavebeenreassuring,buthadtheoppositeeffect.
NowshetoostudiedTimBeecham.
“Everythingallright?”DougWilliamsasked.
“Fine,Mr.President,”saidBeecham.“Ijustneededtoalertsomeofmypeople.”
EllenAdamswonderedwhythatbriefabsencehadworriedtheheadoftheJointChiefsofStaff.Andshethoughtsheknew.
TimBeechamdidnotneedtoleavetheroomtomakethatcall.Theonlyreasonhewouldwastokeepitfromtherestofthem.
Nowwhywouldthatbe?
EllenglancedagainatGeneralWhitehead,buthisattentionwasrefocusedonthePresident.
SecretaryAdamsansweredtheirquestionswhileGil’smotherhadherbacktothemonitors.Notdaringtolook.Incase…
ItwasGeneralWhiteheadwhofinallyasked.
“Yourson?”
“Noword.”Hervoicehard,brittle.Hereyespleadingwithhimnottoaskmore
Hegaveacurtnodanddidnot.
“Andstillnoonehastakenresponsibility?”askedthePresident.
“No.This’sclearlybeyondlone-wolfterritory,sir,”saidDefense.“This’sapack.”
“Ineedanswers,notclichés.”PresidentWilliamslookedaroundtheroomathisblank-facedadvisors.
Themomentelongated.
“Nothing?”heallbutshouted.“Nothing?Areyoufuckingkiddingme?We’rethegreatestnationonearth.Wehavethebestsurveillanceequipment,thebestintelligencenetwork,andyoubringmeshit?”
“Withallduerespect,Mr.President—”theDirectoroftheCIAbegan.
“Fuckthat.Justtellme.”Heglaredathim.
TheheadoftheCIAlookedaroundtheroomforsupport.HiseyessettledontheSecretaryofState.Ellensighed.
SinceshewasalreadyontheoutswiththePresident,shehadtheleasttolose.Besides,EllenAdamsnolongercaredaboutthesepolitics.
“You’refouryearsoutofdate,Doug.”
Theuseofhisfirstnameslippedout.
“What’sthatsupposedtomean?”
“Youknowperfectlywell,”shesnappedandlookedoveratBarbStenhauser,hisChiefofStaff.“Andsodoyou.Idon’thavetimetowaste,soherearethebulletpoints.Theformeradministrationscrewedupeverythingittouched.Itpoisonedthewell,poisonedourrelationships.We’retheleaderofthefreeworldinnameonly.Thateffectiveintelligencenetworkyou’resoproudofnolongerexists.Ouralliesdistrustus.Thosewho’ddousharmarecircling.Andweletithappen.Weletthemin.Russia.TheChinese.ThatmadmaninNorthKorea.Andhere,intheadministration,inpositionsofinfluence?Andeventhelower-levelworkers?Canwereallytrustthatthey’redoingagoodjob?”
“DeepState,”saidtheDirectorofNationalIntelligence.
Ellenroundedonhim.“It’snotdepthweneedtoworryabout,it’swidth.It’severywhere.Fouryearsofhiring,ofpromoting,ofrewardingpeoplewho’dsayanddoanythingtopropupaderangedPresidenthasleftusvulnerable.”Shelookedatherphone.Stillnothing.“Noteveryone’sincompetent,andthosewhoareprobablyaren’tmalicious.They’renotunderminingus,theyjusthavenorealideahowtodothejobwell.Look,Icomefromtheprivatesector.Icantellifpeoplearemotivated,inspired.We’veinheritedthousandsofworkerswho’vespentfouryearsinfear.Theyjustwanttokeeptheirheadsdown.Thatincludesmydepartment.Andthatextendsinto”—shelookedatBarbStenhauser—“theWhiteHouse.”
“Doesitincludeme?”GeneralWhiteheadasked.“Iworkedunderthepreviousadministration.”
“AndfromwhatIhearyouspentmostofyourtimethrowingyourselfongrenades,”saidEllen.“Tryingtostoporatleastlessentheimpactofthemoreinsanemilitaryandstrategicdecisions.”
“Notaltogethersuccessfully,”admittedtheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff.“IbeggedthePresidentandhissupportersnottoencouragefurthernucleardevelopment,andyouknowwhathesaid?”
Ellen,tooafraidtoask,remainedsilent.
“Hesaid,‘Whatgoodarenukesifyoucan’tusethem?’”Whiteheadactuallypaledashesaidit.“IfI’dspokenoutmoreforcefully…”
“Atleastyoutried,”saidEllen.
Whiteheadgaveasmallgrunt.“That’llbeonthetombstone.‘Atleasthetried’…”
“Itmatters,”saidEllen.“Mostdidn’t.I’msorry,Mr.President.IneedtogetbacktoState.Actually,IneedtogettoGermany.Isthereanythingelseyouneedfromme?”
“No,Ellen.”PresidentWilliamshesitated.“ThetriptoGermany.Isitapersonalvisit?”
Shestaredathim,hardlybelievingwhathewassaying.Whathemeant.
GeneralWhiteheadsteppedforward.“IcangetyouononeofthemilitarytransportsalreadyscheduledoutofAndrewswithinthehour.”
“No,”saidPresidentWilliams.“It’sallright.Evenifit’snotofficialbusiness,youcantakeyourgovernmentplane.I’msuretheGermanChancellorwillunderstandthelast-minutenatureofthetripandnotseeitasabreachofprotocol.”
“She’sahumanbeing.”EllenglaredatWilliams.“Youshouldtryit.”
CHAPTER10
“Nothing?”askedEllenassherushedintoheroffice.
SheknewiftherehadbeennewsofGil,she’dhaveheard.Butstill,shehadtoask.
“No,”saidBoynton.
BetsyandKatherinehadlefttopackforFrankfurt,andnowEllenstrodeintotheconferenceroom.She’dbeenfieldingurgentquestionsfromherinternationalcounterparts,andnowshesatdownandstaredatherChiefofStaff,senioraides,andsecurityanalysts.
“Report.”
“TheGermanssaythesameorganizationisclearlybehindallthreeexplosions,”asenioraidesaid.“Buttheydon’tknowwhichorganization.”
“CouldbeAl-Qaeda,”saidasecurityanalyst.“ISIS—”
“ISIL.”
“Stop.”Ellenputupherhand.“Theexplosionswerehoursapart.You’dhavethoughtifthepointwasterror,they’dbetimedtoprettymuchhappensimultaneously.Like9/11.”Shelookedaroundthetableatthebraintrust.“Wouldn’tyou?”
Therewereshrugsandsilence.
“MadameSecretary,thetruthis,”saidasenioranalyst,“wejustdon’tknowwhatthepurposewas.Is.”
“Is?It’snotover?”shesaid.
Shecouldfeelhysteriamounting.Agiddy,near-overwhelmingdesiretostartlaughing.Torunoutoftheroom,wavingherarms,andracescreamingdownthehall,outthefrontdoor,downthemiddleofthestreet.Notstoppinguntilshereachedtheplane.
Theywerelookingateachother,asthoughdaringeachothertotalk.
“Justsayit,”shesaid.
Thatwasmetwithmoresilence.Ellencouldn’treadthesepeopleyet.Theywereschooledinhidingtheirtruefeelings,certainlytheirtruethoughts.Thiswaspartlybecauseoftheirdiplomaticandintelligencetrainingandpartlyasaresultoffouryearsbeingpunishedforrevealinganythingresemblingafact,nevermindthetruth.
“Wethinkthere’salargerpurpose,”saidthewomanwhoseemedtohavedrawntheshortstraw.“Thatthesebombsweresentasafirstwarning.”
Shenarrowedhereyesandturnedherheadslightlyaway.Bracingherself.Expectingtobelambastedforpresentingbadnews.
InsteadSecretaryAdamsabsorbedwhatsheheardandnodded.
“Thankyou.”Shelookedaroundthetable.“Andwhatisthatwarning?”
“Thatsomethingbiggerisplanned.Thatthiswasjustatasteofwhatthey’recapableof,”saidoneofthesecurityanalysts,encouragedbyhisboss’sreaction.
“Thattheycanandwilldowhatevertheywant,”saidanother.“Wherever,whenevertheywant.”
“Thatthey’rewillingtokillinnocentmen,women,andchildrenanywhereintheworld,”saidanother.
“Thatthey’reprofessional,”saidyetanother.BynowEllenwassorryshe’dencouragedsuchhonesty.“Nounderwearbombers.Noshoebombers.Nonailbombsinknapsacks.Whoeverdidthisisinawholeotherleague.”
“Theywillbesuccessful,MadamSecretary,whatevertheychoosetodo,”agreedanother.
“Areyoufinished?”askedEllen.
Theylookedateachother,andtoapersongavealongsigh.Lettingoutyearsoffrustration.Andalongwithit,alonglitanyofworry.
“WhatdoweknowaboutthemessageMs.Dahirreceived?”Ellenasked.
“We’vefounditontheserver,”saidoneoftheintelligenceofficers.“There’snoIPaddress.Nothingtoshowwhereitoriginated.We’reworkingonit.”
“Good.WhereisMs.Dahir?”askedSecretaryAdams.“I’mleavingforGermanyinthirty-fiveminutes,andIwanttospeakwithherbeforeIgo.”
Theylookedaround,asthoughexpectingAnahitatomaterialize.
“Well?”askedEllen.
“Ihaven’tseenherforawhile,”saidBoynton.“She’sprobablybackatherdesk.I’llgetheruphere.”
Aminutelaterhereportedthatshewasn’tthere.
Ellenfeltachillslidefromthebaseofherskulldownherspine.“Findher.”
Hadshedisappearedofherownvolition?Hadshebeendisappeared?
Neitherwasgood.
Ellenrememberedthewhispered“AnahitaDahir”andthelookbetweentheDirectoroftheCIAandTedBeecham,theDNI.
Sheknewthatlook.ItwasreservedforanyonenotnamedJaneorDebbie,BillyorTed.Ithadangeredheratthetime,butnowshefoundherselfthinkingthesamething.
AnahitaDahir.Wherewasshefrom?Whatwasherbackground?
Whatwasherallegiance?
Whereisshe?
AndEllenheard,again,thatsimplestatementoffact.Despitetheearlywarning,thebombshadexploded.BecauseAnahitaDahirhadbroughtthemessagetothemtoolate.
Herphonerang.Theprivateline.ItwasKatherine.
“He’salive.”Hervoice,jubilant,shotdowntheline.
“OhGod,”moanedEllenandleanedoveruntilherheadtouchedtheconferencetable.
“What?”askedBoynton,hiseyeswideinconcern.“Yourson?”
Ellenlookedupandmeteyesthat,unlikethePresident,actuallycared.Andshethought,atthatmoment,thatshelovedCharlesBoynton.
Shelovedeveryone.
“He’salive.”Speakingintothephonenow,sheaskedKatherine,“Howishe?Whereishe?”
“He’shurt,butnotcritical.Theysayhe’llrecover.He’satthezumheiligen…Geist—”
“Nevermind,”saidEllen.“We’llbetheresoonenough.MeetmeatAndrews.”
Asshehungup,Gil’smotherclosedhereyesandtookadeepbreath.ThenSecretaryAdamsopenedhereyesandlookedathersmilingaides.
“He’sfine.He’llrecover.I’mheadingthere.You’recomingwithme,”shesaidtoherChiefofStaff.“Isthereanythingelseweknow?”Theyshooktheirheads.“Anythingwesuspect?”
“Theseweredefinitelycoordinatedterroristattacks,MadameSecretary,”saidtheseniorintelligenceanalystintheroom.“Butastowho,wecan’ttell.Aswesaid,itcouldbeanyonefromanextremistfar-rightgrouptoanewIslamicStatecell.Fortunately,ifthemessagetheFSOreceivedistobebelieved,it’slikelythelast.”
“Fornow,”saidanaide.“WhatIdon’tunderstandiswhythey’dwarnusaboutthebombs.Whysendthatmessageatall?”
“Theydidn’t,”saidtheanalyst.“Whoeverplannedthebombingswantedthemtogooff.”
“Thenwhosentthewarning?”askedEllen.Whentherewassilence,shesaid,“Speculate.”
“Arivalgroup?”saidtheseniorintelligenceanalyst.“Amolemaybe,withintheorganization.Someonewhodoesn’tsharetheirideologyandwantedtostoptheexplosions.We’reworkingblind.”
“No,you’relookinginallthepredictableplaces,”saidEllen.“Useyourimaginations.Therecan’tbemanywhocouldpulltogetherthepeopleandexpertise.Iwantalist.”Shestoodup.“Weneedtofindoutwhosebrainchildthisis,andweneedtoabortit.”
“Westillhavenoideawhythosebuses?”askedBoynton.“Whythosecities?Wasitrandom?”
Again,allheads,likedogsonadashboard,shook.
Ellenstoodup,andtheothersfollowedsuit.“IwanttospeaktoMs.DahirbeforeIleave.Findher.”
Atthedoor,shestopped.Rememberingthatlook.TheonethatpassedbetweentheCIADirectorandTimBeecham.
“GettheDirectorofNationalIntelligenceontheline,”shesaidtoBoynton.
Bythetimeshegottoherdesk,thecallhadcomethrough.
“Tim.”
“MadameSecretary.”
“DoyouhavemyFSO?”
“WhywouldI?”
“Don’tmesswithme.Youmighthaveintelligencereports,butIhavewholeembassies.”
“Technically—”
“Justtellme.”
“Yes,MadameSecretary.Wehaveher.”
Anahitahadneverdreamedthiswaspossible.Nothere.Notinacivilizedcountry.
Notinhercountry.
Shesatatametaltableacrossfromtwomeninuniformbutwithoutinsigniasornametags.Militaryintelligence.Twoothers,evenlarger,stoodatthedoor.Incaseshemadearunforit.
Butevenifshecouldgetthroughthatwallofsolidflesh,wherewouldsherun?
Backtowherevershecamefromwastheirsuspicion,she’drealizedearlyon.Asthoughshehadn’tcomefromCleveland.
Shecouldtellbyhowtheyrepeatedhername.Anahita.
Theysaiditasthoughittranslatedintosomethingugly.Terrorist.Alien.Enemy.Threat.
Anahita,theysneered.AnahitaDahir.
“IwasborninCleveland,”sheexplained.“Youcancheck.”
“Wehave,”saidtheyoungerofthetwoofficers.“Butrecordscanbeforged.”
“Canthey?”Shedidn’tmeantosoundascluelessasshedid,andshecouldtellitonlyaddedtotheirsuspicions.Intheirexperiencenoonewasthatna?ve.Orinnocent.
CertainlynoonewiththenameAnahitaDahir.
“Dahir.”From“dabir.”Arabicmeaning“tutor.”“Teacher.”
And“Anahita,”fromthePersian,for“healer.”For“wisdom.”
Butitwasnousetellingthemthat.They’dstoplisteningafter“Persian.”
Whichtranslatedinto“Iranian.”Whichmeantenemy.
No,besttosaynothing.ThoughprivatelyAnahitaDahirwonderediftheyweren’tright,andtheywerenot,infact,onthesameside.Itwashardtobelieveshewasalliedwithpeoplelikethis.
“What’syourethnicbackground?”theyoungerofthetwodemanded.
“MyparentsarefromLebanon.Beirut.Theyescapedduringthecivilwarandcamehereasrefugees.I’mfirstgeneration.”
“Muslim?”
“Christian.”
“Yourparents?”
“Myfather’sMuslim.Mymother’sChristian.Oneofthereasonstheyhadtoleave.Christiansweretargeted.”
“Whosentyouthecodedmessage?”
“Ihavenoidea.”
“Tellus.”
“Iam.Ihonestlydon’tknow.Assoonasitcamein,Ishowedittomysupervisor.Youcanaskhim.”
“Don’ttellusourjob.Justanswerthequestions.”
“I’mtry—”
“Didyoutellyoursupervisorwhatthemessagemeant?”
“No,Ididn’t—”
“Whynot?”
“BecauseIdidn—”
“Youwaiteduntiltwobombshadgoneoff,anditwastoolatetostopthethird.”
“No,no!”Shefeltherselfgettingconfusedandfoughttoregainequilibrium.
“Andthenyoudeletedit.”
“Ithoughtitwasspam.”
“Spam?”theolderofthetwoasked,hisvoicemorereasonable.Andfarmorefrightening.“Explainthat,please.”
“Wegetitsometimes.Botscyclethroughdifferentaddresses,sendingoutmessagesatrandom.MostarestoppedbytheStateDepartmentfirewall,butsomesneakthrough—”Assoonasshesaid“sneak,”sheregrettedit,butforgedahead.“Ithappensaboutonceaweek.”Shewasabouttosay,YoucanaskanyoftheotherFSOs,butstoppedherself.Shewaslearning.“Whensomegetthrough,theycanseemtobenonsense.Likethisone.IfIcan’tunderstandit,Iask.”
“Areyoublamingyoursupervisor?”theyoungerdemanded.
“No,ofcoursenot.I’mjustansweringthequestions,”shesnapped.
Herangerwasnowstrongerthanherfear.Sheturnedtotheseniorofficer.
“Ifweknowsomething’sjunk,wecandeleteitorshowittooursupervisorforhisorheropinion,andthenerase.WhichiswhatIdid.”
Theseniorintelligenceofficerpaused,thenleanedforward.
“That’snotallyoudid.Youwrotedownthenumbers.Why?”
Anahitawentquiet.Andstill.
Howtoexplain.
“Itjustseemedstrange.”
Thatlandedinthesmall,closeroomwithathud.Theyoungeragentshookhisheadandleanedback,buttheolderonecontinuedtowatchher.
“Iknowthat’snotmuchofanexplanation,butit’sthetruth,”shesaid,nowspeakingsolelytotheolderman.“I’mnotcompletelysurewhyIdid.”
Thatsoundedevenworse.Shecouldtellbecausetheseniorofficerdidnotreactatall.Nothing.FromwhatAnahitacouldtell,hewasn’tevenbreathing.
Justthentherewasacommotionatthedoor.
Andevenso,theseniorintelligenceofficerdidn’treact.Hetrustedtheguardstodotheirjobwhilehedidhis.Whichseemed,now,tobestaringather.
“Stepaside.”
Nowtheseniorofficerturnedtolookatthedoor,asdidAnahita.Itwasavoicesherecognized.AmomentlaterCharlesBoyntonentered,followedbytheSecretaryofState.
Everyonesprangtotheirfeet,thoughtheseniorofficermoreslowlythantherest.
“MadameSecretary,”hesaid,andwhenAnahitabegantosaysomethingtoEllen,hesilencedherwithalook.
“YouhavemyFSO,”Ellensaid,lookingbrieflyatAnahitatomakesureshewasallright.
Theyoungwomanlookedanxious,butnotharmed.
“Yes.Wehavesomequestionsforher.”
“AsdoI.Tellmeyourname,please.”
Hehesitatedforjustabeat.“JeffreyRosen.Colonel,DefenseIntelligenceAgency.”
Ellenputoutherhand.“EllenAdams.SecretaryofState,UnitedStatesofAmerica.”
ColonelRosentookherhandandsmiled,veryslightly.
“Canwetalk,Colonel?Privately,please.”
Henoddedtothejuniorofficer,wholedAnahitaoutoftheroom,butnotbeforeshesaid,“MadameSecretary,Gil?Ishe…?”
“Inthehospital.He’llrecover.”
Anahitagaveherasmallnod,hershoulderssagging,releasinghoursofanxiety.“YouknowIdidn’t…Iwasn’tinvolved.”
Ignoringthat,EllennoddedtotheotherstoleaveherandtheColonel.OnlyCharlesBoyntonstayed,standingbythedoor.
“Whathasshetoldyou?”
“Justwhatyouprobablyalreadyknow.”HerecappedthesequenceofeventsfromthemomentthemessageappearedintheFSO’sboxtowhenthebombexploded.“Whatwedon’tknowis—”
“Whyshewrotethenumbersdown,”saidEllen.
Shetriednottotakehisraisedbrowsasaninsult.EllenAdamswasusedtopeopleunderestimatingher.Accomplishedmiddle-agedwomenwereoftendiminishedbysmallmen.Thoughshedidn’tthinkthisColonelRosenwasone.
HewouldhavebeenequallysurprisedhadGeneralWhiteheadgottentothatanswersoquickly.
“And?”sheasked.
“Shehadnoexplanation.”
“Don’tyouthink,Colonel,ifshewasaforeignagent,ifshewasinvolvedinthis,she’dhavehadanexplanation?”
Thatsurprisedhim,andheconsideredit.“Sheappearsinnocent.”
“Andthatmakesherguilty?You’dhavedonewellinthewitchtrials.”Ellenwalkedtothedoor.“I’mgoingtoGermany.”
Hefollowedher.“Ihopeyougetanswers,MadameSecretary.I’mrelievedtohearaboutyourson.He’sabraveman.”
ThatstoppedEllen.ShepausedtolookatthisColonelinmilitaryintelligenceandwonderedifheknewhowbrave.Notjustthatday,butinthosehorrificdaysinAfghanistan.Rosen’sfacewasacipher,givingnothingaway.
“We’llbeworkingfromthisend.AnahitaDahirknowssomething.”
“Ifshedoes,Ihopetogetitoutofherontheflightover.”
EllenknewsheshouldprobablynothavegottensuchpleasurefromthesurprisedlookonColonelRosen’sface.Butshedid.
“Thatwouldbeamistake.”NoMadameSecretarythistime.Justabald,boldstatement.“Ms.Dahirisinvolvedinthis.Idon’tknowhow,butsheis.Evenyoumustseethat.”
“Evenme?”Ellen’seyeswereashardashertone.“I’myourSecretaryofState.Youmightdisagreewithme.Clearlyyoudo.Butyouwillrespecttheoffice.”
“Apologies.”Hepausedbutdidn’tbackdown.“Ithinkyouaremakingamistake,MadameSecretary.”
Ellenexaminedhimforalongmoment.He’dspokenhismind.Histruth.Whichwasmorethanmostwoulddointhevacuumthathadbecometheupperechelonsofthegovernment.
“Letmetellyousomethingelse,MadameSecretary.AnahitaDahirisnottobetrusted.”
“Yes,you’vemadethatclear,Colonel.Andbelieveme,I’vetakenwhatyousayseriously.ButMs.Dahirisstillcomingwithme.”
WhattheColonelhadn’tseenwasthelookonthejuniorFSO’sfacewhenshe’dbeentryingtoconvinceSecretaryAdamsthatathirdattackwasimminent.
Therewassheerpanicthere.Thiswasayoungwomandesperatetostoptheexplosion.
Ellenalsoknewthat,withoutAnahita,hersonwouldbedead.Sheowedher.Butdidshetrusther?
Notcompletely.ThatlookontheFSO’sfaceasshe’dpleadedwithEllentobelieveher,todosomething,couldhavebeenanact,arusetogetintotheinnercircle.Tomanipulatethemwhileamuchlargerattackwasplanned.
EllenknewthatColonelRosenthoughtshewasfarmorena?vethanshewas.Andfornow,untilshecouldseparateallyfromenemy,thatsuitedEllenjustfine.
Besides,ifAnahitaDahirwasinvolved,Ellenwantedtokeepherclose.Towatchher.Toperhapslullherintomakingamistake.
Unless,thoughtEllenassheledthewaytothewaitinglimousinestotakethemtoAndrews,shewastheonemakingthemistake.
Whileontheflight,AnahitatriedtogetintoseeSecretaryAdams,tothankherforrescuingher.Fortrustingher.ForbringingherwiththemtoGermany.WhereshecouldseeGil.
Shewantedtoexplainthatsheknewnothing,washidingnothing.
Butthen,thatwouldhavebeenalie.
CHAPTER11
ItwasneardawnbythetimeGilBahardrifteduptoconsciousness.Hefelthislimbsheavy,constrained.Asthoughheweretieddown.
Itbroughtbackvaguememories.
Andthen,witharushofpanic,theywerenolongervague.Ormemories.Hecouldfeelthefilthyropescuttingintohiswristsandankles.Smellthestenchofshitandurineandrottingfoodandflesh.
Facedown,breathinginthedirtfromthefloor.
Thethirst.Thethirst.Andtheterror.
Andthenhejerkedawake,risingquicklytothesurface,strugglingtositup.Inasuddenandoverwhelmingpanic.
“It’sOK,”camethefamiliarvoice,andwithitafamiliarscentbothcomfortingandunsettling.“You’resafe.”
Hestruggledbeforefinallyfocusing.“Mom?”
What’reyoudoinghere?Havetheykidnappedyoutoo?
“It’sallright,”shesaidgently.Herfaceclose,butnottooclose.“You’reinthehospital.Thedoctorssayyou’llbefineinafewdays.”
Andthenitcameback.Hisbruisedmindworking.Leaping,stumblingback,back.Frankfurt.Thepeople,thepedestrians.Thebus.Thefacesofthepassengersstaringathim.Thechildren.
Thewomanwiththesatchel.Whatwashername.Hername.
“Wiehei?ensie?”
Abrightlightwasshoneinhiseyes.Ahandplacedonhishead,holdinghimstill,holdinghimdown.Holdinghislidsopen.
“What?”Gilsaid,startingtothrash.
Thenthewoman,adoctor,steppedback.“Sorry.Yourname.Whatisyourname,bitte?”
Hehadtothinkforamoment.“Gil.”
“ForGilbert,ja?”
Hepausedforjustabeatbeforeagreeing.Notabletomeethismother’seyes.
“Yourfamilyname?”Thedoctor’svoicewassoftbutfirm,withaheavyGermanaccent.
Thattooklonger.Whycouldn’theremember?
“Bukhari,”heblurtedout.“NasrinBukhari.”
Thedoctorlookedathim,thenturnedtohismother.Bothlookedworried.
“No,no,”hesaid,tryingtositup.“MynameisGilBahar.HernameisDr.NasrinBukhari.”
“MynameisDr.Gerhardt.”
“Idon’tmeanyou.Thewomanonthebus.”Helookedbeyondthedoctortohismother.“Iwasfollowingher.”
Ellenwasstandingjustofftotheside.She’daskedtheotherstowaitoutsidewhileshesatwithGil.Whenhe’dstirred,she’dpressedthebuttonforthedoctor.
Nowshesteppedforward.“Letthedoctordoherexam,thenwecantalk.”
SheheldGil’seyes,lettinghimknowthelesshesaidinfrontofanyoneelse,thebetter.
Heagreed.Besides,itwouldgivehimtimetosortthroughthejumble.Todredgeupspecifics.Whydidthatname,NasrinBukhari,givehimthewillies?
Whowasshe?
Dr.Gerhardtfinishedherexamandseemedsatisfied.Shetoldhimthathehadaconcussion,brokenribs,andbruises.“Andadeepgashonyourthigh.Youwerelucky.Itwouldhavebeenlife-threateningifbystandershadn’tappliedpressuresoquickly.We’veputinstitches,butyouneedtorestforafewdays.”
Bythetimesheleft,Gilhadhisanswer.
Itwasn’tDr.Bukhariwhoscaredhim.Itwasthepersonstandingintheshadowsbehindher.
Ellenwatchedtheheavydoorclosebehindthedoctor,thenturnedtoherson.Shereachedforhishand,buthepulleditaway.Notsharply.Instinctively.
Whichmadeitworse.
“I’msosorry,”shebegan,butheinterrupted,gesturingforhertobenddown.Shethought,forabriefmoment,maybehewasgoingtokisshercheek.Butinsteadhewhispered.
“BashirShah.”
Sheturnedherheadandstaredathim.EllenAdamshadn’theardthatnameinyears.Notsincethoselongmeetingswiththecorporatelawyers,whenthey’dwarnedhernottoairtheinvestigativedocumentaryonthePakistaniarmsdealer.
Ithadtakentheirreportermorethanayearofdigging.Ithadledtothreatsagainstthereporter’sfamily.Morethanoneofhissourceshaddisappeared.
Therewasnoway,afterthat,theywerenotgoingtorunthestory.
Dr.Shahshruggedofftheaccusationsofarmsdealing,thoughhedidissueararestatementdecryingtheattacksonanupstandingPakistanicitizen.Theywerethesamesortoffalseaccusationsleveledagainstmostofhispredecessorsandmentors,thosebraveandbrilliantPakistaninuclearphysicistswho’dblazedthepath.PeoplelikeAQKhan.
Dr.ShahexplainedthatPakistanwastheWest’sallyinthewaronterror.
Thefactthathewastheterrorhadbeenthepointofthedocumentary.Andindeed,inhistepiddenialwasembeddedadeepertruth.
BashirShahwantedtheworldtoknowhewasamerchantofdeath.
ToherhorrorEllenAdamsrealizedshehad,inadvertentlyandatthecostoflives,donehisadvertisingforhim.TheOscar-winningdocumentaryletterroristsknowwheretogettheirbiologicalweapons.Theirchlorine.Theirsarinnervegas.Theirsmallarmsandtheirmissilelaunchers.
Andworse.
“Washeonthebus?”sheasked,incredulous.
“No.Buthe’sbehindit.”
“Thebombs?”
NowGilshookhishead.“Notthebusbombs.Somethingelse.Idon’tknowwho’sbehindthebombs.”
“Yousaidyouwerefollowingawoman.Nasrin…”Ellentriedtorememberherlastname.
“Bukhari,”saidGil.“AninformanttoldmeShahhadrecruitedthreePakistaninuclearphysicists.Dr.Bukhari’soneofthem.Iwantedtoseewhereshewasgoing.WhatShahwasupto.Wherehewas,ifnothingelse.”
“Butweknowwhereheis,”saidEllen.“He’sunderhousearrestinIslamabad.Hasbeenforyears.”
ThePakistanishadalsotakentheprecautionofcensoringDr.Shah’saccesstotheinternet.Unlikeotherarmsdealers,BashirShahwasbothabusinessmanandanideologue.He’dbeenborninIslamabadbutraisedinEngland.Nowinhisfifties,he’dbeenradicalizedwhilestudyingphysicsatCambridge,andsubsequentlydeeplyinfluencedbyjihadistsitesontheinternet.
Whilehe’dadmiredthepreviousgenerationofPakistaninuclearphysicists,he’dgrowntobelievetheyhadnotgonefarenough.Buthewould.
TherewasnolineBashirShahwouldnotcross.
“ThePakistanisreleasedhimlastyear,”saidGil.
“Theywouldn’t,”shesaid,raisinghervoice,thenloweringitagainatawarninglookfromherson.“Theycouldn’t,”shewhispered,almostahiss.“We’dknowaboutit.They’dnevergobehindourbacks.Americanagentsweretheoneswhofoundhiminthefirstplace.”
“Theydidn’tgobehindourbacks.Thepreviousadministrationagreed.”
Ellenpulledback,staringatherson.Tryingtograspwhathewassaying.She’dbeenconfusedaboutwhytheywerewhispering.Nowsheknew.
Ifwhathesaidwastrue…
Shelookedaroundtheprivateroom,asthoughexpectingtoseeBashirShahstandinginacorner,watchingthem.
Hermindraced,pullingdisparatepiecestogether.Tryingtofillinthecracks,theblanks.
EllenAdamsknewfromreadingStateDepartmentbriefingsthatthereweremanybadactorsoutthere.Menandwomenwhocaredfornothingandnobodyinpursuitoftheiraims.
AssadinSyria.Al-QurashioftheIslamicState.KimJongUninNorthKorea.
Andthoughdiplomacywouldnotallowhertosayitofficially,privatelyEllenAdamswouldaddIvanovinRussiatothatlist.
ButnoonecomparedtoBashirShah.Hewasn’tjustbad,orwicked,ashergrandmothermighthavesaid.BashirShahwasevil.IntentoncreatingaHellonearth
“Gil,howdidyouknowaboutShahandthephysicists?”
“Ican’ttellyou.”
“Youmust.”
“It’sasource.Ican’t.”Hepaused,ignoringtheangerinhereyes.“Howmany?”
Ellenknewwhathemeant.“Thereisn’tafirmfigureyet,butitlooksliketwenty-threedeadonthebusandfiveontheground.”
TearssprangtoGil’sdarkeyesasherememberedtheirfaces.Andwonderedifhecouldhavedonemore.Couldhaveatleastrippedthatchildfromitsmother’sarmsand…
“Youtried,”saidhismother.
Butwasthatgoodenough,hewondered.OrwasthatcomfortingthoughtactuallyacobblestoneontheroadtoHell?
Katherinetookhermother’splacebesideGil’sbed,sittingwithherhalfbrotherwhileheslept,thenwoke,thensleptagain.
AnahitahadalsogoneintosayhellotoGil.Hesmiledatherandheldouthishand.
“Ihearyousavedmylife.”
“IwishIcouldhavesavedmore.”
Shetookhishand,sofamiliar.Ahandthatknewherbodyperhapsbetterthansheherselfdid.
Theytalkedforamoment,andwhenhiseyesgrewheavy,shelefthim.Almostbendingdowntokisshischeekbutstoppingherself.NotjustbecauseKatherinewasthere,butbecauseitwouldn’tbeappropriate.
Theywerenolonger“that.”
Onceshewasoutoftheroom,Boyntongesturedtoher.“You’recomingwithus.”
“Takeustothesiteofthebombing,please,”SecretaryAdamssaidtotheDiplomaticSecuritydriverwhenshe,Boynton,Anahita,andBetsygotinthevehicle.“ThentotheUSconsulate.”
Anothercarwithaidesandadvisorsfollowed,allsurrounded,frontandback,byGermanpolicevehicles.
“I’vetoldtheConsulthatyou’llbetherewithinthehour,”saidBoynton.“Heandhispeoplearegatheringasmuchinformationastheycanonwhathappenedhere.Youhaveameetingwithhim,thenwiththetopUSintelligenceandsecuritypeopleinGermany,thenaconferencecallwithyourcounterparts.Here’sthelistofattendees,suggestedbytheFrench.”
Ellenwentthroughthecountriesandthenames,strikingsomeoff,addingone.Shewantedtokeepittight.
HandingthelistofnamesbacktoBoynton,sheasked,“Isthevehiclesecure?”
“Secure?”
“Hasitbeenswept?”
“Swept?”askedBoynton.
“Pleasestoprepeatingeverythingandjustanswer.”
“Yes,it’ssecure,MadameSecretary,”saidSteveKowalski,theleaderofherDiplomaticSecuritydetail,whowasridingwiththeminthefrontpassengerseat
Boyntonlookedatherclosely.“Why?”
“WhatcanyoutellmeaboutBashirShah?”Despitetheassurances,she’dloweredhervoice.
“Shah?”askedBetsy.
WhenEllen’smediaempirehadgrownoutofallexpectations,she’daskedBetsytoquitherjobasateacherandjoinher.Inthattestosterone-filledworld,Ellenneededacloseallyandconfidante.ItalsohelpedthatBetsywasfierce,inherbrillianceandherloyalty.
ItwasBetsywho’dhelpedhelmthedocumentaryonthearmsdealer.
“He’snotbehindthis,ishe?”sheasked.“Tellmehe’snotbehindthis.”
EllensawthatBetsywasnotjustsurprised;shewasincredulous.Andthen,asFrankfurtrolledby,Betsy’sexpressionslidfromdoubtfultoworriedandsettledintosomethingclosetohorror.
“Who?”askedCharlesBoynton.
“BashirShah,”Ellenrepeated.“Whatdoyouknowabouthim?”
“Nothing.I’veneverheardoftheman.”
HelookedfromSecretaryAdams,toBetsy,thenbacktotheSecretaryofState.Hedidn’tbothertolookatAnahitaDahir.ButEllendid.AndwhatshesawwassimilartotheexpressiononBetsy’sface.
Similar,butnotquitethesame.Anahita,atthementionofBashirShah,wasn’tjustafraid;shewasterrified.
WhatCharlesBoyntondidseewashisboss’sexpressionaimedathim.EllenAdamswasangrierthanhe’deverseenher,though,granted,he’donlyknownheramonth.
“You’relying.”
“I’msorry?”hesaid,hardlybelievingwhathejustheard.
“YoumustknowShah,”snappedBetsy.“He’s—”
ButEllenplacedahandonherlegtostopher.“No.Don’tsayanymore.”
“This’sridiculous,”hesnappedback.Thenhequicklyadded,“MadameSecretary.Ihonestlydon’tknowwhoyou’retalkingabout.I’mnewtoStateaswell.”
Itwastrue.BarbaraStenhauser,withthePresident’sapproval,hadselectedCharlesBoyntontobeEllen’sChiefofStaff.
Ithadbeenasurprisetothemboth.InsteadofallowingEllentochooseherownChief,orevenappointingsomeonealreadyinthedepartment,they’dinstalledatoppoliticalaidefromtheircampaigninthepreeminentadministrativejobatState.
EllenhadsuspecteditwasallpartofPresidentWilliams’seffortstoundermineher.Butnowshewonderediftherewasadarkerpurpose.CouldCharlesBoyntonreallybethatignorant?HowcouldhenotknowBashirShah?Granted,Shahlivedintheshadows.Butwasn’tittheirjobtoseeintothoseshadows?
“We’rehere,MadameSecretary,”saidKowalskifromthefrontseat.
Hundredshadgatheredtolookon,keptbackfromthesceneoftheexplosionbywoodenbarriers.Theonlookersturnedtowatchasshegotoutofthecar.Therewasaneeriesilence,brokenbythesoftclickasthevehicledoorclosed.
ShewasgreetedbytheGermanpoliceofficerincharge,aswellastheseniorAmericanIntelligenceagentinGermany,CIAStationChiefScottCargill.
“Wecan’tgettooclose,”theAmericanexplained.
Itwasalmostexactlytwelvehourssincetheexplosion.Thesunwasjustcominguponwhatlookedtobeanothercold,damp,grayMarchday.Bleakanduninviting.Frankfurt,thatindustrialcity,waslookingatitsworst.Anditwasnevergreatatthebestoftimes.
Muchofitshistoriccenterhadbeenbombedoutinthewar.Whileitwasconsideredan“alphaworldcity,”thatcamedowntoitsplaceasaneconomichub.Itlackedthecharmofmanysmallercities,andtheexcitementandyouthfulenergyofBerlin.
Ellenlookedbehindheratthesilentpeoplegatheredatthebarriers.
“Relativesmostly,”theGermanofficerexplained.Alreadytherewasacarpetofflowers.Teddybears.Balloons.Asthoughthosecouldcomfortthedead.
AndforallEllenknew,theycould.
Shelookedaroundatthedestruction.Thetwistedmetal.Thebricksandglass.Theredblanketslaidontheground.Almostflat.
Sheknewthepresswasregardingher.Recordingher.
Butstill,shecontinuedtostareatthefieldofblankets,spreadoversuchadistance,theircornersliftingslightlyinthebreeze.Itwasalmostpretty.Almostpeaceful.
“MadameSecretary?”ScottCargillsaid,butstillEllenstared.
OneofthoseblanketscouldhavecoveredGil.
Allofthoseblanketscoveredsomeone’schild,mother,father,husband,wife.Friend.
Itwassoquiet,barelyasound.Onlythenowfamiliarclickingofcameras.Aimedather.
“WearetheDead,”shethought,rememberingthewarpoem.“Shortdaysagowelived,feltdawn,sawsunsetglow,/Lovedandwereloved…”
EllenAdamslookedbehindherattherelativeswatchingher.Thenbacktotheblankets,likeafieldofpoppies.
“Ellen?”Betsywhispered,steppingbetweenherandthejournalists,shielding,evenforamoment,herfriend.
Ellenmetthoseeyesandnodded.Swallowingherbile,tampingdownherhorror,SecretaryAdamsturnedherrevulsionintoresolve.
“Whatcanyoutellme?”sheaskedtheGermanofficer.
“Verylittle,madame.Itwasamassiveexplosion,asyoucansee.Whoeverdidthiswantedtomakesureitwouldaccomplishthegoal.”
“Andwhatwasthatgoal?”
Heshookhishead.Hewasn’tsomuchweary,thoughhemust’vebeenonthejobforalmosttwenty-fourhoursstraight,asdrained.
“Thesameastheothertwo,Iassume.InLondonandParis.”Helookedaround,thenbacktoher.“Ifyouhaveanyinsight,pleasetellme.”
Hestudiedher,andwhentherewasonlysilence,hewenton:“Asfarasweknow,there’snothinghere,inthisspot,thatanyorganizationcouldconsiderstrategic.”
Ellentookadeepbreathandthankedthem.
She’dhadtoaskaboutthegoal,thoughshealreadyknewatleastpartoftheanswer.Butshecouldn’ttellthemaboutDr.NasrinBukhari.ThePakistaninuclearphysicistwho’dbeenonthebus.Notyet.Notuntilsheknewmore.
AndshewantedtokeepBashirShahtoherself,atleastuntilshespoketohercounterparts.
Beforereturningtothecar,Ellentookonelast,longlook.Hadallthisbeendonetomurderoneperson?
AndastheGermanofficerhadsosuccinctlysaid,thegoalherewasalmostcertainlythesameasinLondonandParis.Whichmeant…
“Weneedtogettotheconsulate,”shesaidtoBoynton.
Butstill,Ellenpausedatthebarriertospeaktotherelatives.Tolookatthephotographstheyheld.Ofsonsanddaughters,ofmothersandfathers,husbandsandwives.Missing.
“Ifyebreakfaithwithuswhodie,/Weshallnotsleep…”
EllenAdamshadnointentionofbreakingfaith.Thoughasshesatinthevehicleasitspedthroughearly-morningFrankfurt,shelookedatCharlesBoyntonandAnahitaDahir,andwonderedif,inadvertently,shealreadyhad.
CHAPTER12
Theyhadtheiranswerbythetimethemeetingwasconvened.OnherscreenEllensawforeignministersfromselectcountries,alongwiththeirtopintelligenceofficialsandaides.
“Yourinformationwasright,MadameSecretary,”saidtheBritishForeignSecretary,nolongerquitesopatronizing.“We’veidentifiedDr.AhmedIqbalasapassengerontheLondonbus.He’saPakistaninationallivinginCambridgeandteachingattheCavendishLab,intheUniversityofCambridgeDepartmentofPhysics.”
“Hewasanuclearphysicist?”theGermanForeignMinister,HeinrichVonBaier,asked.
“Yes.”
“MonsieurPeugeot?”Ellenasked,turningtotheFrenchForeignMinisterontheupperrightofthescreen.
ThisalwaysfeltlikeHollywoodSquarestoher,thoughitwasnogame.
“Oui,it’spreliminaryrightnow,weneedtodouble-andtriple-check,butitlookslikeamongthedeadontheParisbusisDr.EdouardMonpetit.Aged”—hecheckedhisnotes—“thirty-seven.Married.Onechild.”
“NotPakistani?”askedtheCanadian,JocelynTardiff.
“APakistanimotherandFrenchAlgerianfather,”Peugeotexplained.“HelivedinLahoreandtraveledtoParistwodaysago.”
“Andfromthere?”askedEllen.“Wherewashegoing?”
“Wedon’tknowyet,”admittedtheFrenchForeignMinister.“We’vesentagentstospeaktohisfamily.”
“Itakeityouidentifiedthemfromfacialrecognition,”saidtheGermanForeignMinister.
“Yes,”agreedtheBrit.“WepickedDr.IqbaluponCCTVcamerasashegotonthebusattheKnightsbridgetubestation.”
“Thenwhyweretheynotidentifiedbefore?”theGermanasked.“Whenyouwerelookingforpossiblesuspectsandtargets?”
Ellenleanedforward.Itwasagoodquestion.
“Wellnow,”saidtheUK,“ourintelligencealgorithmsdidn’tconsiderhimatarget.”
“ThesameistrueinParis,”saidFrance.“Thefirsttimearound,ourfacialrecognitionprogramdismissedDr.Monpetit.”
“Why?”askedItaly.“Surelynuclearphysicistswouldbeanaturaltarget,oratleastmaketheshortlist.”
“Dr.Monpetitisconsideredajourneymanphysicist,”explainedFrance.“HeworkedinPakistan’snuclearprogram,butinalow-levelposition,ontheperiphery.Mostlyonpackaging.”
“Delivery?”askedGermany.
“No,justthecasing.”
“AndDr.Iqbal?”askedItaly.
“Asfarasweknowrightnow,Dr.IqbalwasnotassociatedwiththePakistani,orany,nuclearprogram,”saidtheUK.
“Buthewasanuclearphysicist,”saidCanada,emphasizingthepertinentword.
Sheeitherhadtheworstdresssenseanyofthemhadeverseenor,morelikely,shewaswearingaflanneldressinggown.Withmooseandbears.
Hergrayhairwaspulledbackandshewaswithoutmakeup.
Itwas,afterall,justaftertwointhemorninginOttawa,andshe’dbeenyankedoutofadeepsleep.
Butwhiletherestofherlookedunprepared,herexpressiontoldadifferentstory.Shewasalert,composed,focused.Andgrim.
“Dr.Iqbalwasanacademic,”saidtheUK.“Atheorist.Andeventhen,notveryaccomplished.Again,allthisispreliminary,butarudimentarycheckshowsonly”—heturnedtohisaide,whoshowedhimadocument—“adozenpublicationstohisname.Allassecondaryauthor.”
TheUKForeignSecretarytookoffhisglasses,andwhentheaideleanedinandstartedtosaysomething,hesnapped,“Yes,yes.Iknow.”Turningbacktothecamera,hesaid,“We’researchinghisroomsinCambridgeandwillinterviewhissupervisor.Wehaven’tyetcontactedthePakistanis.”
“Neitherhavewe,”saidFrance.“Besttowait.”
TheUKForeignSecretarybristled.HedidnottakekindlytobeingtoldwhattodobyFrance.OrGermany.OrItaly.OrCanada.Orhisownaides.Orprobably,thoughtEllen,hismother.
Ellenreflectedthatthiswasaloose-knitalliancethatcouldtearapartatanymoment.Whatheldittogetherwasnotmutualrespectbutmutualneed.
ItwaslesslikeHollywoodSquaresandmorelikealiferaft.Andyousuredon’twanttomakewaronafellowpassengerandriskallofthemtippingover.
“AnythingonNasrinBukhari?”Canadaasked.
“AllweknowsofaristhatsheworkedattheKarachiNuclearPowerPlantforatime.Wedon’tknowifshestilldid,”saidGermany.“Canadahelpedsetupthatplant,no?”
NowitwasGermany’sturntobedisingenuous.
“Thatwasdecadesago,”saidCanada,stiffly.“AndwepulledsupportwhenwerealizedwhatPakistan’strueintentionmightbe.”
“Alittlelate—”saidGermany.
Canadaopenedhermouth,thenshutitagain.Ellentiltedherheadandthoughtshe’dliketohaveaglassofChardonnaywiththatwoman.Suchself-control.
WhattheCanadianMinisterofForeignAffairsdidsaywas,“TheKarachifacilityisanenergyplant.Notpartoftheirweaponsprogram.”
“Well…,”saidGermany,“that’swhatwethink.Whatwehope.ButDr.Bukharibeingtargetedmightsuggestsomethingelse.”
“Merde,”mutteredFrance.
“Wehavealongwaytogo,”saidtheUK.“Including,ofcourse,whythesethreeweremurdered.Whatweretheyupto,andwho’dwanttostopthem?”
“Israel,”theyallsaidatonce.Itwasthego-toanswerwhenevertherewasanassassination.
“PresidentWilliamshasacallintotheIsraeliPrimeMinister,”saidEllen.“Wemightknowsomethingsoon,butwhileMossadmighttargetthesescientists,Idoubtthey’dblowupbusestodoit.”
“True,”admittedtheUK.
“Thereissomegoodnews,”saidItaly.“Withthesethreedead,presumablywhatevertheyhadplannedisalsodead?No?”
“Wedon’tknowwhattheywereupto,”saidFrance.“Maybetheystumbledontosomethingandwerecomingtotellus.”
“Allthree?”askedCanada.“Atthesametime?Seemsabitofacoincidence.”
Ellenshifted.Shehadn’tyettoldthemaboutBashirShah.Thatthesescientistshadbeenrecruitedbyhim.
“Idon’tthinktheymeanttowarnus,”shesaid.
TheGermanForeignMinisterstaredather.“Doyouknowsomething,Ellen?We’vetoldyouwhatweknowsofar.Butyouhavenot.YoutoldourChancellorthattherewouldbeabombinginFrankfurt.Youevenknewtheexactbusrouteandtime.Howwasthat?”
“And,”saidFrance,“howdidyouknowaboutNasrinBukhariandtocheckfornuclearphysicistsfromPakistanontheotherbuses?Ithinkwe’reowedanswers.”
Somehow,toEllen’sears,theirquestionshadtheslightodorofaccusations.Butwhatcouldtheypossiblybeaccusingherof?
No,shethought.Notherpersonally.TheAmericans.AndSecretaryAdamsrealizedthatwhilethesemenandwomenwerepredisposedtotrusttheUS—wantedto,wereperhapsevendesperateto,consideringwhatwasatstake—thefactwastheydidnot.
Notanymore.Notafterthedebacleofthepastfouryears.
AndsherealizedthatahugepartofherjobasSecretaryofStatewouldbetoregainthattrust.Sherememberedhermotherbendingdown,attheentrancetotheschoolyardherfirstday,andsaying,“Ellen,ifyouwanttohaveafriend,youneedtobeafriend.”
She’dmetBetsythatday.Betsy,whoevenattheageoffivelookedlikeJuneCleaver,thoughshesoundedlikeatinysailorinthemerchantnavy.
Andnow,halfacenturylater,EllenAdams,theAmericanSecretaryofState,desperatelyneededtomakefriends.
Shelookedattheworriedandwaryfacesofhercolleaguesandknewwhatshehadtodo.Shehadtotellthemthetruth.AbouttheoddmessagethatcameintothejuniorFSO.ShehadtotellthemwhatGilhadsaid.AboutBashirShah.
Theyhadarighttoknow.
Thoughperhapsnotjustyet.
Whenshe’darrivedtwentyminutesearlierattheAmericanconsulateinFrankfurt,she’dimmediatelygonetoasecureroomandcontactedtheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaffbackinWashington.
GeneralWhiteheadansweredonthefirstring.“Yes?”
“It’sEllenAdams.DidIwakeyouup?”
Inthebackgroundshecouldhearhiswifegroggilyaskingwhowascallingattwointhemorning.
“It’sSecretaryAdams,”hesaid,hisvoicemutedthroughthehandhe’dobviouslyplacedoverthemouthpiece.“It’sallright,MadameSecretary.”Hestillsoundedsleepybutwasgainingstrengthwitheachword.“How’syourson?”
Itwasthequestionamanwho’dlosttoomanyyoungmenandwomenwouldthinktoask.
“Recovering,thankyou.Ineedtoaskyouaquestion.It’sconfidential.”
“Thislineissecure.”He’dobviouslylefthisbedroomandgoneintoaprivateoffice.“Goon.”
Ellenlookedthroughthethick,reinforcedwindowoftheconsulate,towardtheparkacrossGie?enerStra?e.Buttheweakmorningsunrevealeditwasn’tactuallyapark.Itjustlookedlikeone.
MuchlikethebuildingshewasinwasthehomeofAmericandiplomatsbutlookedlikeaStalag.
Thingswerenotastheyappeared.
Thatwasnoparkshewaslookingat.SomebrightlighthaddecidedtoputtheUSconsulateacrossfromamassivegraveyard.
“WhatcanyoutellmeaboutBashirShah?”
BertWhiteheadsatdownwithathudandstaredacrosshisoffice,atthephotographsonthefarwall.
Thiswouldbe,heknew,hislastcampaign.Hedidn’thavetheheart,nevermindthestomach,foritanymore.
BashirShah.Hadshereallyjustsaidthatname?
“Ithink,MadameSecretary,thatyouknowasmuchasIdo.”
“Ithink,GeneralWhitehead”—hervoicecamesurprisinglycleardownthelinefromFrankfurt—“thatmightnotbetrue.”
“I’veseenthedocumentaryyourjournalistdidonDr.Shah.”
“Thatwasawhileago.”
“True.I’vealsoreadthedossierthatIntelligencehaspreparedforyourconfirmation.Iknowaboutthenotes.”
Ellengaveasmall,unamusedlaugh.“Ofcourseyouwould.”
“Youwerewisetoreportthemassoonastheyarrived.”
Thenoteshewasreferringtohadstartedappearingshortlyafterthedocumentaryhadaired.EveryyearEllenAdamsreceivedatherhome,throughthemail,acard.Itwasunsignedandwishedherahappybirthday.InEnglishandUrdu.Italsowishedherlonglife.
EllenhadgiventhefirsttotheFBI,thenforgottenaboutit.UntilonearrivedonGil’sbirthday.ThenonKatherine’s.
AndwhenQuinn,Ellen’ssecondhusbandandKatherine’sfather,haddiedsuddenlyofaheartattack,anotheronearrived.Withinhours.Beforetheofficialannouncementhadbeenmade.Anoteofcondolence.InEnglishandUrdu.
Thisonehand-delivered.
Shehadnowaytoproveit,andtheFBIcameupempty,butsheknew.Asshe’dheldthenote,herfingersgrowingcoldasbloodrushedfromherbrokenheart,sheknew.
ItwasfromBashirShah.
They’drunatoxicologyexam,andtherewasnothingtosuggestQuinn’sdeathwasanythingotherthannatural.Tragic.Butnatural.
EllenwantedtobelievethatShahhadsimplytakenadvantageofthetragedytosowdoubt.Toaddcrueltytogrief.Toplaycattohermouse.
ButEllenAdamswasnoquiveringmouse.She’dstaredthetruthintheface.
BashirShahhadkilledherhusband.Andtherewasanotherterribletruth.He’ddoneitinrevengeforthedocumentaryshe’daired,whichhadledtoaseriesofnewspaperreports,whichhadled,aftermonthsofpressurefromthethenAmericanadministrationonthePakistanigovernment,toShah’sarrestandtrial.
NowshehadShahinhersightsonceagain.Butsheneededinformation,andalotofit.
“PretendIknownothing,”shesaid.
“MayIaskwhyyouwanttoknowaboutDr.Shah?”
“Please,justtellme.IwastemptedtocallTimBeechambutdecidedtocallyoufirst.”
Therewas,again,thatpause.“Ithink,MadameSecretary,thatwasagooddecision.”
Andwiththat,EllenAdamshadheranswer.WhatthatlookofconcernhadmeantintheOvalOffice,amillionyearsago,whentheDirectorofNationalIntelligencehadlefttheroomtomakeacall.AndtheChairmanoftheJointChiefshadwatched,withfurrowedbrow.
“Dr.ShahisaPakistaninuclearphysicist,”GeneralWhiteheadbegan.Slowlyopeningtheclosetdoortorevealwhatwasinside.“He’soneofthesonsoftheirnuclearprogram,havinginheriteditfromthefirstgeneration.Buthisweaponsaremuchmorepowerful,muchmoresophisticated.He’sbrilliant.Undoubtedlyagenius.Hesetuphisowninstitute,thePakistaniResearchLaboratories,thatwasacoverforPakistan’seffortstoprogresstheirnuclearweaponsprogramtocompetewithIndia.”
“Effortswhichweresuccessful,”saidEllen.
“Yes.WeknowthatPakistanisstillexpandingitsarsenal.Fromwhatwecantell,ithasonehundredsixtynuclearwarheads.”
“Jesuswept.”
“Jesuswillbesobbingsoon.Ourinformantstellusby2025,itwillhavetwohundredfiftywarheads.”
“DearGod,”sighedEllen.
“Thismakesitextraordinarilydangerousinanunstableregion,andthey’redeterminedtokeepitthatway.”
“Israelhasnuclearweaponstoo,doesn’tit?”saidEllenandheardachuckledowntheline.
“Ifyoucangetthemtoadmitthat,MadameSecretary,theYankeeswillhireyoutopitch,’causeyoucanclearlyworkmiracles.”
“I’maPiratesfan.”
“Ah,yes.Iforgotyou’refromPittsburgh.”
“Betweenus,General,tellme.Israeldoeshavenuclearwar-heads,right?”
“Yes,MadameSecretary.It’stheonlysecretthey’rehappytoletslip.Butthat’sactuallygiventhePakistaninuclearprogramanexcuse.TheyinsistincreasingtheirinventoryisjustlikeIsrael’sprogram.Theywanttoprovideaso-calledbalanceofterroragainstIndia.”
“Nice.”
EllenAdamswasfamiliarwiththeconcept,fromtheColdWarbetweentheUSandtheUSSR,whenneithersidewantedtohitthebutton,knowingitcouldleadtoreprisalsthatcouldwipeoutthehumanrace.
Itkepteachfrombehavingespeciallybadly.Thatwasthetheory.
Whatitinfactcreatedwasn’tabalanceofterror,butaperpetualstateofterror.
“AndIran’snuclearweaponsprogram?”sheasked.
Shecouldalmosthearhimshakinghishead.“Wehavesuspicions,butwecan’tconfirm.Butyes,MadameSecretary,IthinkweneedtoassumeIraneitherhas,orsoonwillhave,itsownnuclearweapons.”
“Allofthisispublicknowledge,”saidEllen.“WhatcanyoutellmeaboutDr.Shah’sprivatedealings?Atsomepointhewentintobusinessonhisown.”
“True.Hebegantraffickinginweapons-gradeuraniumandplutonium.Butnotjustthat.Othersdealinthatmarket,notablytheRussianmob.ButwhatmakesShahsodangerousisthathebecameaone-stopshop,akindofWalmartofweapons,sellingnotjustthematerialsbutthetechnology.Theequipment,theexpertise,thedeliverysystems.”
“Thepeople.”
“Yes.Clientscouldgotohimandinonetransactiontheycouldbuyeverythingtheyneededtodeveloptheirownnuclearbombs.Fromsouptonuts,sotospeak.”
“Clients.Youmeanothercountries?”askedEllen.
“Insomecases.WethinkhesuppliedtheNorthKoreanswiththecomponentsfortheirnuclearweaponsprogram.”
“AndthePakistanigovernmentknewwhatShahwasdoing?”
“Yes.Hecouldn’thavegottenawaywithitwithout,ifnottheirapproval,thentheirwillingnesstoturnablindeye.Theytoleratedhisdealings.Why?Becausehisgoalslinedupnicelywiththeirs.”
“Andthosewere?”
“Tokeeptheregiondestabilized,togainadvantageoverIndia,andtounderminetheWest.Shahhasmadebillionssupplyinganythingandeverythingtothehighestbidder.Notjustnucleartechnology,butheavyweapons,chemicals,biologicalagents.Moretraditionalweapons.Youaskedabouthisclientsbeingothercountries.That’snotwherethedangerlies.Weatleasthavesomecontrolovergovernments.Therealthreatisthatnuclearweaponswillfallintothehandsofcriminalsandterroristorganizations.Frankly,thefacttheyhaven’tyetisshocking.”
Ellenpausedamomenttoabsorbthat,hermindracingahead.“WhosuppliesShahwiththesecomponents,theseweapons?Hedoesn’tmakethem.”
“No,he’sthemiddleman.There’reallsortsofplayers,butoneofhismainsuppliersseemstobetheRussianmafia.”
“AndPakistanallowsthis?”Ellenneededtobeabsolutelysureonthispoint.“They’reourally.”
“They’replayingadangerousgame.ThePakistanigovernmentallowedustooperatemilitarybasesinthenorthduringourlongmilitarypresenceinAfghanistan,buttheyalsogavesafehaventobinLaden,Al-Qaeda,thePathan,theTaliban.TheirborderwithAfghanistanisporous.Thecountryisriddledwithextremists,terrorists,supportedandprotectedbythegovernment.”
“AndsuppliedbyShah.”
“Yes,thoughtomeethimyou’dneversuspect.Helookslikeyourbrother,yourbestfriend.Scholarly.Benign.”
“Butthingsarenotastheyappear.”
“Rarelyare,”saidGeneralWhitehead.“IwasinthosemeetingswiththePakistanimilitary.ButIwasalsointhosecaves.IsawtheweaponshiddenthereandsuppliedbyShah.Ifanyofthesegroupseveractuallydidgetanuclearbomb—”
“Whyhaven’tthey,ifhe’sbeensupplyingthemfordecades?”
“Tworeasons,”saidBertWhitehead.“Mostofthesegroupsarecannibals.Theyfightamongthemselves.Killtheirown.There’slittleorganization,nocontinuity.Ittakesyearsandyears,andstability,toactuallybuildabomb.Andyoucan’tdoitinacaveonamountainside.TheotherreasonisthatWesternintelligenceagenciesstopthem.OurintelligenceandpolicingnetworkshavebrokenupdozensofeffortstosellorobtainnuclearmaterialsandwastesincethecollapseoftheSovietUnion.Andremember,itonlytakesasmallamounttobuildadirtybomb.”
SecretaryAdamsdidn’thavetobereminded.Thatthoughtwasneverfarfromhermind.
“Asyouknow,”theGeneralcontinued,“theAmericanadministrationbeforethispastonepressuredPakistantoarrestShah.Thatwaspartlythankstoyourdocumentary.PublicpressurewasputonthePakistanis.Wewerehopingforaprisonterm,butallhegotwashousearrest.Still,that’sbetterthannothing,Isuppose.Itlimitshisinfluence.”
“Untilnow,”saidEllen.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“Didn’tyouknow?He’sout.ThePakistanisreleasedhimlastyear.”
“ForChrist’ssake—I’msorry,MadameSecretary.”GeneralWhiteheadsighed.“BashirShahout.That’saproblem.”
“Morethanyouthink.Itwasapparentlydonewithourblessing.”
“Our?”
“Thepreviousadministration.”
“That’snotpossible.Who’dbestupidenough…Nevermind.”
FormerPresidentEricDunn,that’swho.Knowntoeven,perhapsespecially,hisclosestassociatesasErictheDumb.Butthiswentbeyonddumbintoderanged.
“Itwasjustaftertheelection,”saidSecretaryAdams.
“Aftertheelection?Aftertheylost?”askedGeneralWhitehead.“Nowwhywouldtheydothat?”hemutteredtohimself.“Howdoyouknowallthis?”
“Mysontoldme.HewasfollowinganuclearphysicistnamedNasrinBukhariwho’dbeenhiredbyShah.”
Ellenexplainedwhatsheknew.TherewassilencedownthelineasGeneralWhiteheadlistened,absorbingeveryword.Andwhatitmeant.
Finallyhesaid,“ButwhywouldShahkillhisownpeople?”
“Hewouldn’t.”
“Thenwho?”
“Iwashopingyou’dtellme.”
ButalltheSecretaryofStateheardwasagreatsilence.
CHAPTER13
“TheIsraeliPrimeMinisterdeniestheyhadanythingtodowiththebombings,”BoyntonwhisperedinEllen’searhalfanhourlaterasshesatinthevirtualmeetingwithotherforeignministers,intelligencechiefs,andaides.
“Thankyou,”shesaid,thenturnedtotheothersonthevideocallandtoldthem.
Boynton’sinterruptionwaswelcome.Itmeantshedidnothavetoanswerthequestionofhowsheknewabouttheexacttimeofthebomb,thetarget,andthecity
Thisboughtheralittlemoretimetoconsiderheranswer.
“DowebelievetheIsraeliPrimeMinister?”askedFrance.
“HavetheIsraeliseverliedtousbefore?”askedItaly.
Thatgotalaugh.
ButtheyalsoknewthatwhileIsraelmightnotbeentirelytruthfulwiththem,thePrimeMinisterwaslesslikelytolietotheAmericanPresident.ThatwasafriendIsraelneededtokeep.Andstartingoffwithaliewasnothelpful.
“Besides,”saidtheUKForeignSecretary,“MossadmightbehappytokillPakistaninuclearphysicists,butnotinsuchamessy,brutalway.Theypridethemselvesonbeingprecise.Clean.Thiswasanythingbut.”
HeseemedtohaveforgottenthatEllenhadsaidexactlythatjustafewminutesearlier.
“MadameSecretary,”saidtheCanadian,“youhaven’tansweredourquestion.HowdidyoucometoknowabouttheFrankfurtattackandDr.Bukhari?”
EllenthoughtmaybesheandtheCanadianmightnotbefriendsafterall.
“AndthatthetargetsontheotherbuseswereprobablyPakistaniphysicists?”askedItaly.
“Asyouknow,mysonwasontheFrankfurtbus.He’sajournalist.OneofhissourceshadtoldhimthattherewasaplotinvolvingPakistaninuclearphysicists.ThenamehewasgivenwasNasrinBukhari.Hewasfollowingher.Itwasn’thardthentoputitalltogether.”
“Whowashissource?”theCanadianasked.
Really,thoughtEllen,thiswomanwearingmooseandbearswasgettingquiteannoying.
“Hewon’ttellme.”
“Hisownmother?”askedtheGerman.
“TheSecretaryofState.”Hertonediscouragedanyfollow-upquestionsonherpersonalrelationshipwithherson.
“Whatwastheplot?Whatwasplanned?”Franceasked,leaningtowardthescreen,sothathisnoseappearedhugeandtheycouldseehispores.
“Mysondoesn’tknow.”
Francelookedskeptical.
“YoursonwaskidnappedbythePathanafewyearsago,”theGermanForeignMinistersaid.
“That’strue,”saidFrance.
“Becareful,”theCanadianwarnedhim.ButFrancerarelylistenedtoCanada.
“Whereotherjournalistswereexecuted,includingthreeFrench,hemanagedtoescape—”saidFrance.
“Clément,”snappedCanada.“Enough.”
Butitwasnot.
“AndnowIunderstandyoursonhasconvertedtoIslam.He’saMuslim.”
“Clément!”saidtheCanadian.“C’estassez.”That’senough.
Butitwastoolate.Andfartoomuch.
“What’reyousaying?”Ellen’svoicewasfilledwithwarning.
ThoughsheknewperfectlywellwhattheFrenchForeignMinisterwassaying.Whatothershadsuggested,butnevertoherface.
“He’snotsayinganything,”saidItaly.“He’supset.Parisjustsufferedaterribleattack.Letitgo,MadameSecretary.”
NowFrance’sfacewaspracticallysmashedupagainstthescreen.“Howdoyouknowyoursonisnotpartofthisplot?Howdoweknowhedidn’tplantthebomb?”
Andthereitwas.
“Howdareyou,”snarledEllen.“Howdareyousuggestmysonwouldhaveanythingtodowiththis.Hetriedtostopit.Riskedhislifetostopit.Almostdiedintheexplosion.”
“Almost,”saidtheGerman,hisvoicemaddeninglycalm,infuriatinglyreasonable.“Buthedidnot.Hesurvived.Justashesurvivedthekidnapping.”
Ellenturnedtohim.Barelybelievingwhatshewashearing.“Youcan’tbeserious.”
Shelookedatthemall.EvenCanada,inhersillymoose-and-bearflannel,waswaitingforhertoanswerthequestion.
HowhadGilBaharescapedhisIslamicterroristkidnapperswhenallothershadbeenexecuted?
Itwasaquestionsheherselfhadaskedwhenshe’dmethiminStockholmrightafterhisescape.Shehadn’tmeanttosuggestanything.ButGilhadheardanaccusation.Healwaysdid.
Theirrelationship,alreadystrained,hadgottenworseafterthat,astheunansweredquestionfestered.
Nowtheybarelytalked.ThoughEllenhadtriedandtried,throughBetsy,throughKatherine.Throughphonecallsandletters.Toexplainthatshelovedhim.Trustedhim.
Andthatshe’donlyaskedthinkinghe’dwanttotalkaboutit.
Gil’skidnappingwasalsoattheheartoftheconflictbetweenEllenAdamsandthenSenator,nowPresident,DouglasWilliams.
Thattoohadfestered.
Shelookedathercolleagues.Allfrayed,allafraid.SecretaryAdamscouldnotyettellthemaboutthecodedmessagethathadcomein,notuntiltheyhadabetterhandleonit,andonAnahitaDahir.
Butshehadtothrowthemsomething.Andsheknewwhat.
“Hissourcedidtellhimwhowasbehindit,”sheoffered.“Hewasabletotellmethismorningfromhishospitalbed.”
Shethoughtshe’dthrowthatin.Gilhadnotescapedunharmed,thankyouverymuch.
“And?”saidGermany.
“BashirShah.”
Itwasasthoughsomeblackholehadtornopenandsuckedallthelife,allthelight,allthesoundfromtheirrooms.Leavingthemsenseless.
Shah.
Andthen,allatonce,withawhoosh,theybegantalking.Shoutingquestions.
Butitboileddowntoonequestion,askedseveraldifferentways.
“HowcoulditbeShah?He’sunderhousearrestinIslamabad.Hasbeenforyears.”
Shewentthroughexactlywhatshe’ddiscussedwithGeneralWhitehead,tostunnedsilenceonceagain.
“Shit.”
“Merde.”
“Schei?e.”
“Merda.”
“Fuckinghell,”saidtheCanadian.
Ellenretooledherthinking.MaybeabottleofChardonnaywiththiswomanafterall,whenthiswasover.
“AreyousayingwehavenoideawhereShahis?”askedFrance.
“Yes.”Shesearchedtheirfacesandcametotheconclusiontheywereequallyignorant.Andequallyoutraged.Equallyangry.
Ather.
“Youletthishappen?”saidGermany.“Youletthemostdangerousarmsdealerescape—Nein,notescape,walkoutthefrontdoor?”
“Ithinkheprobablytooktheback,”saidItaly.“Sonoonewouldsee—”
“Thedoorisimmaterial,”snappedGermany.“Thepointis,he’sfree,withtheblessingoftheUSgovernment.”
“Butnotthisadministration,andnotmyblessing,”saidEllen.“Ihatehimasmuchasyoudo,maybemore.”
Becausethetruthwas,EllenAdamsdidsuspectShahhadkilledQuinn.Amanshelovedwithallherheart.Inretaliationforthatdocumentary.Andjustbecausehecould.
Andthenhetauntedher,tothisday,withthosecheerycards.
Nowhe’dbeenfreed,andwasfreetodowhateverhepleased,withtheprotectionofsomeinthePakistanigovernmentandtheblessingofadelusionalAmericanPresidentandhisflyingmonkeysinthecabinet.
Including,EllenAdamsnowsuspected,TimBeecham,theirownactingDirectorofNationalIntelligence.
ThatwaswhyGeneralWhiteheaddidn’ttrusthim.
TimBeechamwasaholdoverfromthepreviousadministration,oneofaflurryofpoliticalnominationssenttotheSenateinthewaningdaysoftheDunnPresidency.TheSenatehadn’tvotedonhim,andthenewPresidenthadlefthimas“acting”DNIuntilhecoulddecidewhethertokeephiminplace.FromhistimeintheSenate,WilliamsknewBeechamasaright-wingconservativeintelligenceprofessional,butthatwasall.
ThePresidentwaslefttohopehisDirectorofNationalIntelligencewasloyal.Whichhecertainlywas.Buttowhom?
“What’sShahupto?”askedtheCanadian.“Threenuclearphysicists.Thatcan’tbegood.”
“Threedeadphysicists,”saidItaly.“Doesn’tthatmeansomeonedidusafavor?”
Ellensawagainthefacesofthefamilies,thephotographstheyheld.Theteddybearsandballoonsandtheflowersdyingonthepavement.Somefavor.
AndyetItalyhadapoint.
“WhatIdon’tunderstandiswhyhe’drecruitsecond-ratenuclearphysicists?”askedCanada.“Presumablyhecouldbuyjustaboutanyone.”
ThathadbeenworryingEllentoo.
“Youhavetopressureyourson,MadameSecretary,”saidItaly.“Heneedstotellyouwhohissourceis.WehavetoknowwhatShahisupto.”
AtEllen’srequest,BetsyflewbacktoDC.
OnceatherwindowseatonthecommercialflightoutofFrankfurt,sheopenedtheletterEllenhadgivenher.Writteninhereasilyidentifiablescribble.
DespitethefactEllenherselfhadhandedittoher,slippedintoacopyofPeoplemagazine,andtherewasnomistakingthehandwriting,Ellenhadstillopenedtheletterwith,Amixedmetaphorwalksintoabar…
Theseatbeltsignwasturnedon,andtheannouncementwasmadetopleaseputphonesonairplanemode.WhichBetsydid,rightaftersendingaquickemailtoEllen.
seeingthehandwritingonthewall,buthopingtonipitinthebud.
Thenshesatbackandreadtherestoftheshortnote,whilejustbehindherandofftoherright,inthebusiness-classseatinthemiddleofthecabin,anondescriptyoungmanreadanewspaper.
Heprobablythoughtthatshehadn’tspottedhim.
Afterreadingthenote,Betsyslippeditintothepocketofherpantsuit.Someonemightstealherpurse,buttheywerelesslikelytogetherpantsoff.
Theletterwouldbesafethere.
AllthewayacrosstheAtlantic,whileotherpassengersateandsleptintheirlie-flatbeds,BetsyJamesonlookedoutthewindowandconsideredhowshe’daccomplishwhatEllenhadasked.
“I’llseehernow,”Ellensaid.
ShewasinanofficeprovidedbytheAmericanConsulGeneralandwatchedasCharlesBoyntonlefttheroomandreturnedwithAnahitaDahir.
“Thankyou,Charles.Youcanleaveus.”
Hehesitatedatthedoor.“CanIgetyousomethingtoeatordrink,MadameSecretary?”
“No,thankyou.Ms.Dahir?”
EventhoughAnahitawasstarving,sheshookherhead.Shesurewasn’tgoingtoeataneggsaladsandwichinfrontoftheSecretaryofState.
Boyntonclosedthedoor,aworriedexpressiononhisface.Hewasbeingfrozenout,andhehadtofindawaybackin.
Ellenwaiteduntilthedoorclickedsoftlyshut;thenshewavedAnahitatoanarmchairacrossfromwhereshewassitting.
“Whoareyou?”
“I’msorry,MadameSecretary?”
“Youheardme.Wedon’thavetimetowaste.Peoplehavedied,there’severyreasontothinkworseiscoming.Andyou’reinvolved.Soanswermenow.Whoareyou?”
AsAnahitawatched,Ellenslowlyplacedherhand,splayed,overtheclosedcoverofafolderrestingacrossherknees.Itwas,Anaknew,anintelligencebriefing.MuchliketheoneherinterrogatorshadinthebasementoftheStateDepartment.
SheliftedhereyesfromthattotheSecretaryofState.
“I’mAnahitaDahir,aforeignserviceofficer.Youcanaskanyone.Katherineknowsme.Gilknowsme.I’mexactlywhoIsayIam.”
“Nowthat’snottrue,isit?”saidEllen.“Ibelievethat’syournameandjob,butIalsothinkthere’smoretoit.Thatmessagecameintoyou.Specifically.Wenowknowthere’saconnectiontoPakistan.Allthreenuclearphysicistsarefromthere.YouspenttwoyearsinourIslamabadembassy.You’reonthePakistandesk.Whosentyouthemessage?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Youdo,”snappedEllen.“Look,Igotyououtofthatinterrogation.Probablyshouldn’thave,butIdid.Broughtyouwithmesoyou’dbesafe.Again,probablyshouldn’thave,butdid.Yousavedmyson’slifeandIowedyouthat.Butthere’salimit,andwe’vereachedit.Securityagentsarerightoutsidethatdoor.”Shedidn’tbothertolookinthatdirection.“Ifyoudon’tanswermenow,I’llcalltheminandhandyouover.”
“Idon’tknow.”Ana’svoicewashigh,strainingoutofherconstrictedthroat.“Youhavetobelieveme.”
“No,whatIhavetodoisgetatthetruth.Youcopiedoutthemessagebeforeyouerasedit.Doyounormally?”
Anahitashookherhead.
“Thenwhythisone?”
BythemiserablelookontheFSO’sface,Ellenknewshehadher.Whileshemightnotgettheanswer,sheatleasthadthequestion.
Butwhentheanswercame,itwasn’tatallwhatEllenexpected.
“MyfamilyisLebanese.Lovingbutstrict.Traditional.AgoodLebanesegirllivesathomeuntilshe’smarried.Myparentsgavemefarmorefreedomthanmyfriendsevergot.Iwasallowedtomoveoutofourhome,toleavethecountryeven,forthejob.TheywereproudthatIwasworkingfortheStateDepartment,servingmycountry.Andtheytrustedmenevertocrossacertainline.”
Ellenlistenedclosely,hermindracingahead,thenskiddingtoastop.
“Gil.”
Anahitanodded.“Yes.Whenthatmessagecamein,Ireallydidthinkitwasspam.Atfirst.That’swhyIshowedittomysupervisorandthenerasedit.ButjustbeforeIdid,Iwonderedif,maybe,itwasfromGil.”
“Whywouldyouthinkthat?”
Therewasapause,andEllenrealizedthisgrownwomanwasblushing.
“We’dalwaysmeetatmysmallapartmentinIslamabad.Whenhewantedtogettogether,he’dsendatextwiththetime.Nothingelse.Justthetime.”
“Charming,”saidEllen,andsawAnahitasmileslightly.
“Hewas,actually.Thatmakesitsoundbad,buthediditforme.Iwantedtokeepourrelationshipsecretsothatnothingcouldgetbacktomyparents.Anditwas—”
Fun.Heady.Exciting.Sneakingaroundinacityfilledwithdeception,duplicity.Thosesteamy,sultrydaysandnightsinIslamabad.Everyonesoyoung,sovital,sofirm,socertain.LifeteemingallaroundthemwhileDeathwaitedinthemarketplace.
Theworktheyweredoingfeltsoimportant.Astranslators,security,journalists.Spies.Theyfeltthemselvessoimportant.Immortalinaplacewhereviolenceanddeathstruckothers.Neverthem.
Andthosetexts.1945.1330.Andherfavorite,0615.Towakeuptothat.ToGil.
WatchingAnahita’sphysicalreactiontothememoryforcedEllentosuppressasmile.Itwas,shecouldtell,exactlythesamewayshe’dfeltaboutGil’sfather.Calhadbeenherfirstlove.Nothersoulmate.ThatwasQuinn,Katherine’sfather.
Butman,wasCalBaharfun.Andfirm.
Andevennow,thinkingofhim…
Shestopped.Iftherewasalessappropriatetimeforthis,shedidn’tknowit.
Ellenclearedherthroat,andAnahitablushedagain,andreturnedtothecold,gray,featurelessroominFrankfurt.“I’dhopedthemessagewasfromGil.Iwroteitdown,thenerasedit.LaterthatnightIsentoffamessagetoGilaskingifitwasfromhim.”
“Didyouknowwherehewas?”
“No.Wehadn’tbeenintouchforawhile.NotsinceIreturnedtoDC.”
Ellennodded,andsuspectedhadAnahitatoldthosesecurityofficersallthis,theywouldn’thavebelievedher.Theywouldn’thaveunderstoodtheyearning,theburning,ayoungwomancouldhaveforherfirstlove.Howitcouldleadhertooverinterpret,misinterpret,reread,andreinterpretamessage.
Howhopecouldblindeventhemostintelligentofpeople.
ButitmadeperfectsensetoEllenAdams.Shetoohadbeendazzled,byGil’sfather.Blindedtowhatotherssawalltooclearly.WhatBetsyhadseenandtried,gently,tosay.AllthereasonssheandCalcouldneverwork.
“That’showyouknewhewasinFrankfurt,”shesaid.
“Yes.”
“Butifitwasn’tGilwhosentthemessage,whodid?”
“Idon’tknow.Idon’tthinkwhoeversentitmeantforittocometomespecifically.Justanyonewhohappenedtobeonthedesk.”
“WhatdoyouknowaboutBashirShah?”EllensawtheFSO’sfacefreeze.“Youknowsomething.Isawyourreactioninthecar.Youwereterrified.”
TherewasalongsilenceasAnahitafidgeted.“WhenIwasinIslamabad,Iwasworkingonnuclearproliferationissues,andsomeofmyPakistanicontactswouldtalkabouthim.Almostinawe.Hewasmythical.Inaterribleway.Likeoneofthegodsofwar.Ishebehindthis?”
Insteadofanswering,Ellengotup.“Isthereanythingelseyouneedtotellme?”
Anahitaalsogottoherfeetandshookherhead.“No,MadameSecretary.That’sall.”
Ellenwalkedhertothedoor.“I’llbegoingbacktothehospitaltoseeGilbeforeweleave.Wouldyouliketocome?”
Anahitahesitated,thenliftedherchinandputhershouldersback.“Thankyou,butno.”
AsEllenclosedthedoor,shewonderedifGilhadanyideawhathe’dlost.
AsAnahitawalkedbackdownthehall,sheconsideredhowfarshecouldgetifshejustkeptgoing.Howlongbeforetheynoticedshewasgone?
Beforetheyrealizedshe’dlied.Again.
CHAPTER14
AsBetsyJamesonwaitedinthetaxilineatDulles,shewonderedifsheshouldaskthatniceyoungmanifhe’dliketosharearide.
Hewassoclearlyfollowingheritwasalmostsweet.Shehopedhewasn’taspy,becausehe’dhavequiteashortcareer,andperhapsashortlife,ifevenshecouldspothim.ButBetsysuspectedhewasn’tsomuchfollowingherasguardingher.
SentbyEllentomakesureshewassafe.
Itwasbothcomfortinganddisconcerting.Ithadn’toccurredtoBetsythatwhatshewasabouttodocouldbedangerous.Difficult,yes,butnotdangerous.
BetsyJamesonwasusedtodifficult.Herupbringing,onthesouthsideofPittsburgh,hadmadeherafighter.Thedifficultywasthatshegrewupbelievinglifewasastruggle,peoplewereshitty,noonewastobetrusted.Familywastheretoabuseher,menwererapists,andwomenwerebitches.Catsweresneaky.DogswereOK.Exceptthesmallyappyones.Anddon’tgetherstartedonbirds.
Inherexperience,monstersdidn’tcomeoutofthecloset;theycameinthroughthefrontdoor.Invitedin.
BetsyJameson,attheageoffive,intheplaygroundofthenewschool,hadlearnednottoletanyonein.
She’dretreatedintoherowncave,onthesideofanemotionalmountain.Wherenooneandnothingcouldfindher.Couldhurther.
WhenplayingRedRover,sheneverinvitedanyoneover.Andtheotherkidslearned,whenracingtowardtheline,tonevertrytobreakthroughBetsyJameson’sgrip.
Butonthatfirstdayofschool,sittingwithherbacktothewall,Betsyhadwatchedalittleblondgirl,withknock-knees,hugethickglasses,andasweatertoowarmfortheday,standattheentrancetotheplayground.Hermotherwasbendingdown,whisperingsomething.Thesolemnlittlegirllookedather,nodded;thentheykissed.
Betsycouldn’trememberthelasttimeanyonekissedher.Notlikethat,anyway.Fleeting,onthecheek,gently.Kindly.
Thenthelittleblondgirl,wholookedsofragile,hadsteppedacrossthethresholdintotheyardand,unexpectedlyandirrevocably,deepintothecave.WhereBetsyJamesonkeptherheart.
Fromthatdayforward,EllenandBetsywerealmostinseparable.EllentaughtBetsythatgoodnessexisted,andBetsytaughtEllenhowtokickattackersinthenuts.
EllenandBetsyhadgonetouniversitytogether,EllenstudyinglawandpoliticalscienceandBetsytakingadegreeinEnglishliteratureandbecomingateacher
Itwasanachievementthatwentuncelebratedbyherfamily,butbythenitnolongermattered.BetsyJamesonhadlefthercavebehindandemergedintoaworldwheredangerstilllurked,butsodidgoodness.
Now,intheMarchchilloftheDCairport,sherememberedEllen’slongembraceinthelobbyoftheAmericanconsulateinFrankfurtandherwhispered“Watchyourself.”
Ofcourse,atthetime,shehadn’tyetopenedherletter.Theonestillinherpantspocket.
Theoneaskinghertoquietly,secretly,lookintoTimBeecham.
HewasnowPresidentWilliams’sactingDirectorofNationalIntelligence.Hehadbeen,atleastofficially,aseniornationalsecurityadvisorinthepreviousadministration.Butwhathadhereallydone?That’swhatEllenwantedto,neededto,know.Andfast.
Onthesurface,whatEllenaskedhertodowasstraightforwardenough.Butitwasn’tthesurfacethattheywereinterestedin.
Betsyglancedattheyoungman,whowasstudyingthesamenewspaperhe’dspenteighthoursreadingontheflight.Shealmosttookpityonhim.Butthendecideditwouldjustembarrasshimifsheapproachedandofferedhimalift.Besides,shewantedtimeonthedriveintoFoggyBottomtothink.
Thenexttaxiwashers.
Asitpulledaway,Betsysawtheagentjumptheropesandgetintoacaralreadywaitingatthecurb,intheredzone.Vehicleswerenotnormallyallowedtowaitthere,unlesstheyhadgovernmenttags.
Betsysatbackandconsideredhernextmove.
“Haveyoueaten?”
“Notyet,”saidKatherine.
“Gograbsomething,I’llsitwithhim,”saidEllen.
TheirflighttoIslamabadwasscheduledtotakeoffinlessthananhour.EllenhadcleareditwiththePresidentandherfellowforeignministers.There’dbeensomepushback,butitwasobviousthatwhiletheUK,France,andGermanyhadbeenthetargetsofthebombing,theUShadthebestchanceofgettinganswersoutofthePakistanis.
Itwasalsodecidedthat,untiltheywereintheair,nooneelse,includingIslamabad,wouldbetoldoftheimminentarrivaloftheUSSecretaryofState.
Gil’sbreathingchanged.Therewasaslightgroanasheshiftedinhishospitalbedandbegantowakeup.Ellentookhishand,feelingitbothfamiliarandunfamiliar.Ithadbeensolongsinceshe’dheldit.
Shewatchedhishandsome,bruisedfaceashestruggledupthroughthemorassofpainkillers.
Openinghiseyes,hefocusedonhismotherandsmiled.Thenfullconsciousnesshitandthesmiledisappeared.
“Howareyou?”shewhispered,leaningclosetokisshischeek.Buthepulledback.
Itwassubtlebutenough.
“OK.”Hisbrowsloweredasthememoryofwhathadhappenedcameback.“Theothers?”
Seventeenbystanderswerealsointhehospital.SecretaryAdamshadspokentosome,briefly.Thosewiththemostminorinjuries.Thedoctorsadvisedagainstdisturbingtheothers,manyofthemstillsedated.Manyfightingfortheirlives,theirfamiliessittingvigil.
Inaninstanteverythinghadchangedasthey’dwalkedalong,drivenalong,cycledalongaroadtheytookeveryday.
Limbslost.Brainsirreparablydamaged.Blinded,maimed,paralyzed.
Scars,visibleandinvisible,werecreatedthatwouldneverheal.
Thehospitaldooropened,andCharlesBoyntonlookedin.“MadameSecretary,you’rewanted.”
“Thankyou,Charles.I’llbewithyouinaminute.”
HerChiefofStaffhoveredforamomentbeforewithdrawing.
EllenturnedbacktoGil.“I’monmywaytoIslamabad.”
“ArethePakistaniscooperating?”
“That’swhyI’mgoing.Tomakesuretheydo.IsuspecttheyknowexactlywhereShahis.”
“SodoI.”
“Gil,Ihavetoaskyouagain.”Sheheldhisgaze.“Weneedtoknowyoursource.”
Hesmiled.“AndhereIthoughtmymotherwasvisitingtomakesureIwasallright.Ididn’trealizeI’mtalkingtotheSecretaryofState.”
Ellenbitbackafewrepliesthathadappearedfullyformedandhadalmostescaped.
Itwasacheapshot,andGilknewit.
“Ican’ttellyou,”hesaid,hisvoicesofter.“Youknowthat.Youranamediaempire.Youwenttocourttodefendjournalistswhowouldn’trevealtheirsources,andnowyouaskmetorevealmine?”
“Livesare—”
“Don’ttellmethatlivesareatstake,”hesnapped.
Thereweresomememoriesthatlived,foreveryoung,inhismind.Photographs,stills,thatfloatedupunexpectedlyongloomynightsandsunnydays.Whenhewaswalking,oreating,orintheshower.Inthemostmundaneofmoments,theyappeared.
ThebeheadingofhisfriendtheFrenchjournalist.Gil’scaptorshadmadesurehesawit,andthatheknewhewasnext.Jean-Jacqueshadlookedstraightathim,heldhiseyes,asthebladewasappliedtohisthroat.
TherewastheimageoftheyoungBlackwomanatthemomentthetruck,drivenbyafar-rightextremistinTexas,hadhitthecrowdofpeacefulprotestershewascovering.Thelastmomentofherlife.
Therewereothers,butthosewerethemostfrequentvisitors.Theuninvitedguests.Theuninvitedghosts.
Andnowanotherimagetookitsplacealongsidetheotherhorrors.Therowsofpassengersonthebus,theirfacesupturned,staringathim.Afraidofhim.Theywereabouttodie,andhecouldn’tsavethem.
“Theonlyreasonwehaveahopeofstoppingmoredeaths,”hesaid,“isbecausemysourcetrustedme.That’llstopthemomentItellyouwhoitis.No,Ellen.Iwon’ttellyou.”
Theuseofhername,ratherthan“Mom”oreven“Mother,”alwayshurther.Andshesuspectedthatwaswhyhedidit.Partlytocausepain,butalsoasawarning.
Gonofurther.
Still,herrelationshipwithhersonwaslessimportantthanthelivesofperhapstensofthousandsofothersonsanddaughters.Mothersandfathers.Ifthistoreherfamilyapartcompletely,sobeit.Itwouldbelesshorrificthanthelossmanyfamilieshadsufferedinthepastfewhours.
“Weneedmoreinformation,andyoursourcemusthaveit.Hedoesn’tneedtoknowyoutoldus.”
“Areyoukiddingme?”Heglaredather.“He’llknowwhentheykillhim.”
“They?”
“Shahandhispeople.”
“DoesheworkforShah?”
“Look,Iwanttohelp.IwanttofindShahtoo.Tostophim.ButIcan’ttellyouanymore.”
Ellentookadeepbreathandtriedtocalmherself.
Sheregrouped.“DoyouthinkyoursourceknowswhatShahhasplanned?”
“Iasked,ofcourse.Hesaidhedoesn’tknow.”
“Doyoubelievehim?”
Gil’sfather,CalBahar,hadinstilledinhissontheconvictionthatjournalists,investigativereporters,warcorrespondents,wereheroes.TheFourthEstate,keepingdemocracy’sfeettothefire.
GilBaharhadbeenraisedknowingthatwaswhathewantedtodo,wasmeanttodo.Hedidn’twanttobeinaconflict;hewantedtocoverone.WhetherthatconflictwasAfghanistanorWashington.
Towitness.Toreport.Tofindoutwhy.Andhow.Andwho.
Totellthetruth.Nomatterhowugly.Howdangerous.
Hismother,ontheotherhand,hadalwaysbeenthebusinessperson.Thebureaucratwhorantheempire.Therationalonewhoneverlookedbeyondthefiguresonthespreadsheet.
Thebeancounter,hisfathercalledher,sometimesevenwithaffection.Helikedbeans,he’daddwithalaugh.
Gil,thebuddingjournalist,couldseethetruthbehindthejest,evenasachild.
Butnowhethoughtmaybesomethinghadchanged.Eitherhisfatherhadbeenwrongallthistimeandperhapsdidn’tknowhismotheraswellashethought,orshe’ddevelopedthefacilityofaskingnotjustwhatpeopleknewbutalso,moreimportantly,whattheybelieved.
Andnow,finally,shewasaskinghimwhathebelieved.
“IthinkmaybehedoesknowwhatShahhasplanned,”saidGil.“ButitwasallIcoulddotogetShah’snameoutofmysource.Hewasterrified,andforgoodreason.Heprobablyregretstellingmethatmuch.”
“Ifhewon’ttellyouShah’splan,canyouatleasttrytofindoutifthedeathsofthephysicistsputanendtoit,orifit’sstillon?”
Gilhauledhimselfupinbed,wincingslightly,andstaredathismother.TheSecretaryofState.
“Areyoutracingmymessages?”
Shehesitated.“I’mnot.Itrustyoutogivemeanythingimportantthatyoufindout.Butothers…”
Henodded.“Inthatcase,Ican’tcontactmysource.”He’dspokenloudly,vergingontheunnatural,beforedroppinghisvoicetoawhisper.“Buttheremightbeanotherway.”
“MadameSecretary,you’reneeded.”
EllenlookedtowardBoynton,standingatthedoor,andwonderedhowmuchhe’dheard.
“Theplanewillwait,”shesaid.
“IsAnahere?”Gilglancedtowardthedoor.
Forjustamoment,helookedlikeherlittleboyagain.Afraidtoaskapainfulquestionbut,likeagoodjournalistinaconflictzone,determiningthattheneedtoknowoutweighedthefear.
“No.Shewasinvited,but…”
Henodded.Thatwasenoughtruthfornow.
“MadameSecretary,”saidBoynton,anedgetohisvoicenow.“It’snottheplane.”
AssoonasEllensteppedoutofthelimousineattheAmericanconsulateinFrankfurt,shewasmetbyamiddle-agedman,thesameoneshe’dspokentoatthesceneofthebombing.TheheadofAmericanIntelligenceinGermany.
“ScottCargill,MadameSecretary.”
“Yes,Irememberyou,Mr.Cargill.”Sheturnedtotheslightlyyoungerwomanwithhim,evenastheyrushedherintothebuilding.
“ThisisFrauFischer.She’swithGermanIntelligence,”heexplainedasMarineguardsheldthedoorsopen.
“Wehaveasuspect,”saidFischer,inexcellentEnglish.
Theirfootstepsechoedonthemarblefloorastheycrossedthelobbytotheelevators,oneofwhichwasbeingheldforthem.
“Incustody?”askedEllen.
“Notyet,”saidFrauFischerastheelevatordoorswhiskedclosed.“Allwehavesofarisanimagefromthesecuritycamerasalongtheroute,andtheoneinsidethebus.”
EllenandBoyntonwereledintoawindowlessroomthathadabunker-likequality.EllenwassurprisedtoseetheGermanForeignMinisterwasthereinperson,fromBerlin.
“Ellen,”hesaidandextendedhishand.
“Heinrich.”
Heindicatedacomfortableswivelchairbesidehim.“Youneedtoseethisvideowefound.”
Asshetookherseat,shesmiledslightlyatthe“we.”EllensuspectedHeinrichVonBaierhadasmuchtodowiththefindasthecoffeecupdid.
Hegaveasignandavideoappearedonthescreenatthefrontoftheroom.
Itshowedthenumber119buspullinguptoastopandamangettingoff.Then,ataclick,theimagefroze.
“This,”saidScottCargill,“istwostopsbeforetheexplosion.”
“Ourbomber,”saidVonBaier,andEllensmiledagain,thistimeatthe“our.”Shewonderedhowlonghisownershipwouldlastiftheywerewrong.
Onthescreenshesawaslightyoungmanwearingjeans,ajacket,andaroundhisneck,acheckeredkeffiyeh.
SheturnedtoCargill.“Howdoyouknowthisishim?Itlookslikeracialprofilingtome.”
“Weknowbecauseoftwootherpiecesofevidence,”Cargillsaid.Onceagain,avideoappeared,thistimetakenfrominsidethebus.
Andonceagain,theyfrozetheimageonthescreen.
ShesawGil,sittingapparentlyperfectlyrelaxednearthebackofthebus.
“That,”FrauFischersaid,pointingtothewomanbehindGilandofftohisleft,“isNasrinBukhari.”
“Thephysicist.”
“Ja,MadameSecretary.Yourecognizeyourson,ofcourse.Andthat”—thefingerpointedtoapassengerjustinfrontofDr.Bukhari—“isoursuspect.Watchwhathappensnext.”
Thetaperolledagain,andtheysawthemanbenddownsothathewashiddenbythewomanintheseatinfrontofhim.Thenhesatup,stoodup,andwalkedtothefrontofthebus.Thenextviewwastheonethey’dalreadyseen,takenasheexited.
Theimagefroze,andthenFischerzoomedinonhisface.Hewasdark-skinned,clean-shaven,andappearedtobelookingstraightattheCCTVcamera.
“Fromtheblastpatternoftheexplosion,weknowthatitoriginatedattheverybackandontheleftsideofthebus,”saidFischer.“Wherehesat.”
Ellenstaredattheface.
Whatwashethinkingasheleftthebus?Leftthepeople?Whathadhebeenthinkingashesatthere,watchingthechildrensquirmintheirseats?Theteenagersontheirphones?Theexhaustedworkersontheirwayhome?Howhadhefelt,knowing…?
Whatdidanybomberthink,feel,knowinginnocentswoulddie?
Ellenwasnotinsensibletothefact,tothetruth,thatAmericanmilitarypersonnel,onordersfromtheirleaders,hadpressedbuttonssendingmissilesaimedatenemies,butsometimesalsosendinginnocentciviliansfromthisworld.
Nowsheleanedforward,staringattheyoungman.“Whyishealive?”
“Well,heleftthebus,MadameSecretary,”saidVonBaier.
“Yes,Igotthat.Butaren’ttheynormallysuicidebombers?”
Therewassilence,asthequestionsatthere.FinallyCargillanswered.
“That’softentrue,butnotalways.”
“Whenisittrue?”Ellenasked.
“Whenthepeopleinvolvedareradicalized.Religiousfanatics,”hereplied.“Andwhentheirhandlers,thosewhogroomedthem,wanttomakeabsolutelysurethebombwillgooff.”
“Youmean,whenit’sarudimentarydevice?”askedEllen,lookingatthetwointelligenceofficers.“Probablyhomemadebyamateurs.Itcouldfailunlessmanuallytriggered.”
“Ja.”
“Andwhenisitnottrue?Whendotheyjustleavethebomb,likehedid?”Shegesturedtothemanonthescreen.
NowtheGermanandAmericanofficerswerenodding,thinking.Assessing.
“Whentheyaresureofthedevice,”saidtheGerman.
“Andwhentheyarenotfanatics,”saidtheAmerican.
“Goon,”saidEllen.
“Whenthey’retoohigh-valueanassettowasteonasenselessactofself-destruction.
“Orwhenhedecideshedoesn’twanttodie,”saidFrauFischer.
Everyonestaredatthescreen,attheface.Ofthekiller.Whowasstillalive,andoutthere.
“We’llgetthistotheinternationalintelligencenetwork,”saidtheGermanForeignMinister.“Ifhe’sbeenrecruitedandgroomed,he’llbeinthesystemsomewhere.”
“Butfacialrecognitiondidn’tpickhimup,”saidEllen.
“No.That’strue,”saidCargill.“Hemightbeanassetthey’vekeptclean.We’llalerttheairportsandtrainstations.Busterminalsandcar-rentalagencies.”
“Andgetitonsocialmediaandtothenetworks,”saidFrauFischer.“Evenifwecan’tidentifyhim,thepublicitywillhamperhismovements.Someonemightseehimandreport.”
Cargillnoddedtoanagent,whoquicklylefttheroom.
“Thereissomethingelsethat’salittle,ummm…”
EllenandVonBaierwaitedwhiletheAmericanIntelligenceofficersearchedfortherightword.
“…unusual.”
“Great,”mutteredEllenwhilebesideherthedignifiedVonBaiermumbled,“Scheisse.”
“Morethanalittle,”saidFischer.“Look.”
Shepointedtothescreenandtheimagetheyhadbeenlookingatforsomeminutesnow.
“What?”askedEllen.
“Nohat.”
EllenshiftedhergazetotheGermanofficer,thentoVonBaier,whowasasbaffledasshe.ThisyoungwomancouldnotpossiblybeworriedaboutthebombercatchingcoldinchillyFrankfurtinearlyMarchwithouta…
AndthenshehaditatthesamemomentVonBaiergotit.Hisbrowsarchingashisblueeyesopenedwide.
“He’snottryingtohidewhoheis,”saidEllen.
“Exactly,”saidFischer.“Hepracticallypausedsowe’dgetagoodlookathim.”
Ellenwasquiet.Staringattheface.Gettingagoodlookathim.Wasitherimagination?Wastheresorrowinthoseeyes?Apleaeven?Forunderstanding?Forhelp?Surelynot.Noonesetsoffabomb,killingsomanyinnocentpeople,andexpectstobeunderstood.
“Theories?”askedVonBaier.
“Thiscouldbeagoodthing,”saidCargill.“Hemightbecocky.Overconfident.Heeitherdoesn’tbelievewe’llfigureoutthatheplacedthebomb,orhewantsustoknow.”
“Why?”VonBaierasked.
“Well,that’swhatwedon’tknow,”admittedCargill.“Ego?Brashness?”
“Lookathisexpression,”saidEllen.Wasshetheonlyonewhosawit?“He’ssorry.”
“Oh,comeon,MadameSecretary,youcan’tbelievethat,”saidVonBaier.“He’sabouttomurderinnocentcivilians.He’snotsorryatall.”
EllenlookedoveratCargill,whoobviouslyagreedwiththeGermanForeignMinister.ThensheshiftedhergazetoFrauFischer,whowasstaringatthefaceofthebomber,herbrowsdrawntogether.
ThenshelookedatEllen.Shakingherhead.
“Ithinkhe’safraid,”saidFrauFischer.
Ellenstudiedtheyoungfaceagainandnodded.“Ithinkyou’reright.”
“Ofcoursehe’safraid,”saidVonBaier.“Ofbeingblownupbyhisownbombandmeetingamakerwhoactuallyisn’tallthathappyaboutwhathedid.”
“No,it’ssomethingelse,”saidEllen;thenherfacecleared.“Hewasn’tsupposedtosurvive.”
“Maybethat’swhyhishandlerdidn’tinsistontryingtohidehisidentity,”saidFrauFischer.“Becauseitwouldn’tmatter.”
Ellen’smindraced.“Weneedtostopthepublicationofhispicture.”
“Why?”saidCargill.Andasplitsecondlaterunderstood.“Oh,shit.”
Ifthebomberwassupposedtodie,besthishandlersbelievedhedid.
“Verdammt,”snappedFischer.“Weneedtofindhim.Fast.Beforetheydo.”
“GetThompson,”Cargillwasshoutingintothephone.“Tellhimtostop.Donotputthepictureofthesuspect—”
Cargillsatwithathud.“OK.Thenlimittherelease.”Hehungup.“Toolate.It’salreadygoneout.Butwemightbeabletostopsomepublications.”
“Nein,”saidFrauFischer.“Thedamageisdone.Weneedtouseitifwecan.Getitoutfarandwide.Someonewillknowwhoheis.I’llcontacttheintelligencechiefsinothercountries,incasehe’scrossedaborder.”Sheheadedforthedoor.“We’llfindhim.”
Ellenstartedtogetup.“Ifthere’snothingelse,IneedtocallthePresidentandreport,thengettomyplane—”
“Thereisoneothervideowe’dliketoshowyou,Ellen,”saidHeinrichVonBaier.
Shesatbackdownandlookedatthescreenastheinteriorofthebusonceagainappeared.
Thebomberhadalreadyleft.Hisseatwasempty.EllenwatchedasGilansweredhisphone,listened,thenstoodupandstartedshouting.
Shewatched,herhandsclosingintofists,asGiltrieddesperatelytostopthebus.Togetpeopleoff.Hewasalmostweepingwithpanicandfrustration.Grabbingatpeople,tryingtoyankthemtotheirfeet.IncludingNasrinBukhari,whobattedhimawaywithasatchel.
Ellenwatched,everymuscleinherbodytight,asthebusfinallystopped.ThedrivergotupandthrewGilout.
Thevideoflickered,andtheysawthestreetviewasGillandedhardonthesidewalkandthebuspulledaway.
Ellenleanedforward,herhandnowclaspinghermouth,ashersonpickedhimselfupandranafterthebus.Therewasnosound,butitwasclearhewasshouting.Screaming.Thenhestopped,turned,andtriedtogetpeopleoffthesidewalk.
Andthen,theexplosion.
Sheclosedhereyes.
“MadameSecretary.”HeinrichVonBaierhadstoodupandnowturnedtoher.Hisfacegrave,hismannerformal.“Ioweyouanapology.Iwaswrongtosuggestyoursoncouldhavebeeninvolved.Hedidallhecouldtosavelivesandwouldhavebeenkilledhadthedrivernotthrownhimout.”
Hedroppedhisheadinasmallbow,acknowledginghismistake.
Andprivatelysheacknowledgedhers,inunderestimatinghisintegrity.Hetookownershipofthemistakesaswell.
“Danke,”shesaid.Gettingtoherfeet,sheheldoutbothhandstowardthediplomat.Hetookthemandsqueezedgently.“Itwasanaturalmistake,”shesaid.“OneIwouldprobablyhavemadetoo.”
“Thankyou,”hesaid,thoughtheybothsuspectedthatwasnottrue.
VonBaierdroppedhisvoiceandsaidtoEllen,“GoodluckinIslamabad.Becareful.Shahwillbewatching.”
“Yes.”SheturnedtoBoynton,who’dbeensittingquietlywatchingallthis.“I’llcallthePresidentfromAirForceThree.”
“There’sstillyourmeeting.”
“Thiswasn’tthemeetingyoumeant?”
“No,MadameSecretary.There’sanother.”
CHAPTER15
“Youneedtorepeatthat,please,”saidEllen.
Boyntonhadshownherintoyetanotherdim,windowless,featurelessroom.Itwasinthesub-basement.They’dhadtogothroughanumberofsecuritychecksandreinforceddoorstogetthere.
Oncetheywereinside,atechniciantappedakeyboardthensaid,“Couldyouputinyoursecuritycodeplease,MadameSecretary.”
“MyChiefofStaffcanusehis,can’the?”
“No,I’mafraidnot.Thisneedsthehighestclearance.”
Unsurewhat“this”was,Ellentypedintheseriesofnumbersandwaited.
Alargemonitorsprangtolife,andtherewasTimBeecham,theDirectorofNationalIntelligence.
Aftergreetings,formalandwithoutahintofwarmth,Beechambegantoexplain,butwhenitbecameclearwhatthismeetingwasabout,EllenstoppedhimandturnedtoCharlesBoynton.
“GetScottCargillinhere,please.Heneedstohearthis.”
“MadameSecretary,thefewer—”Beechambegan,butshestoppedhimwithalook
“Yes,ofcourse,”saidBoynton,returningafewminuteslaterwithCargill,whopulledupachairbesideher.
Therewasnoneedforintroductions.TheDNIknewtheCIA’sStationChiefinGermanywell.
“Anything?”shewhispered,andCargillshookhishead.
AtEllen’srequest,TimBeechamrepeatedwhathe’dsaidearlier.
“We’vegoneoverthemessagethatcameintoMs.Dahir.Theoneshesayssheerased.”
Thewordingwasn’tlostonEllen.“Well,shemust’veeraseditifyoufounditburiedinthetrashfile.Thatiswhereitwasfound?”
“Yes.”
“Anditmusthaveatimecodeattached,showingwhenitwasdumped?”
“Yes.”
“Onethatcorrespondstothetimelinesheexplained.”
“Yes.”
“SoAnahitaDahirwastellingthetruth.”Best,Ellenthought,toestablishfactsandauthorityearly.Andwithoutambiguity.
Shedidn’tlikethisslyman,andshesuspectedGeneralWhite-headfeltthesameway.Andnow,watchingBeechamsquirm,EllenthoughtofBetsyandhercommissiontoherfriendtofindoutmoreabouttheDNI.
She’dheardnothingsinceBetsy’squicktexttosayshe’darrivedbackinDCandwasonherwaytotheStateDepartment.
“Sowhat’syournews,Tim?”
“We’vefoundoutwherethemessageoriginated.”
“Youdid?”Sheleanedsoclosetothemonitorshecouldfeeltheheatradiatingoffit.“Where?”
“Iran.”
Ellensatbackasthoughscaldedandtookaslow,deepbreathin,thenalongexhale.Besideher,sheheardCargillsay,“Huh.”Thesoftgruntapersonmadewhenhitinthesolarplexus.
Iran.Iran.
Hermindraced.Iran.
IfShahwassellingbothnuclearsecretsandnuclearphysicists,Iranwouldwanttostopit.Iranhaditsownnuclearprogram,whichitpubliclydeniedwhilemakingsureeverypowerintheregionandbeyondknewthetruth.
Ellenconnectedthedots.ThebloodytrailofexplosionsandassassinationsthroughouttheMiddleEast.AllinaidofIranstoppinganyoneelseintheregionfromgettingnuclearcapability.
“IranwouldabsolutelywanttostopShah’sphysicistsfromreachingtheirdestination,”shesaid.
“That’strue,”saidBeecham.“Except—”
“WhoeversentthatmessagetoyourFSOdidn’tplantthebombs,”saidCargill.“Theytriedtopreventthemurders.”
Ellen’seyesopenedwider.Thatwastrue.Shelookedfromhimtothemonitor.WhileBeechamlookedevenmoreannoyed,thistimeathavinghisgreatrevealstolen,healsolookedtroubled.
“That’swhatwedon’tunderstand,”saidBeecham.“WhywouldtheIranianstrytostopthebombings?WhywouldtheywanttosaveShah’sphysicists?Weconsideredthepossibilitythey’retheoneswho’dboughtthephysicistsfromDr.Shah,butdismissedit.”
“There’snowaytheIraniangovernmentwouldtrust,nevermindhire,Pakistanis,”agreedCargill.“Andtheysurewouldn’tdealwithBashirShah.He’stooenmeshedwiththeSaudisandotherSunniArabcountries.”
“Andhewouldn’tdealwithIran,wouldhe?”askedEllen.
“Unlikely,”saidBeecham.“Besides,Iranhasitsownhighlyskillednuclearphysicistsanditsownprograminplace.No,thismakesnosense.”
“Sowheredoesthatleaveus?”askedEllen.
Nothing.
“ArewesureitcameoutofIran?”sheasked.“Can’tmessagesbemisdirected?SentoffdifferenttowersandIPproviders?Surelywhoever’sbehindthebombingsissophisticatedenoughtohidewheretheyare.”Shepaused.“Damn.Ikeepmakingthesamemistake.ItjustmakesfarmoresensethatIranisbehindthebombings.Notthattheytriedtostopthem.”
“ItwasdefinitelyfromIran,”Beechamconfirmed.“Buttheredoesseemtobesomeurgencybehindthemessage,otherwiseIthinktheywouldhavetriedhardertohidewhereitcamefrom.Andthere’ssomethingelse.”
Hewaslookingsmug,andEllenfeltsomethingcrawlalongherspine.Asthoughahugespiderwasmakingitswayup.
“Goon.”
“Weknowwherethemessagecamefrom.”
“Yes,you’vesaid.Iran.”
“No,moreprecise.WetrackedittoacomputerinTehran,belongingtoa”—hecheckedhisnotes—“ProfessorBehnamAhmadi.”
“You’rekidding,”saidCargill.Butitwasjustafigureofspeech.Heknew,theyallknew,thattheDirectorofNationalIntelligencewasfarfromkidding.
“Youknowhim?”EllenaskedCargill.
Henodded,puttinghisthoughtsinorder.“He’sanuclearphysicist.”
“Isitpossibleheknewthesepeopleandwantedtosavethem?”sheasked.
“It’spossible,”saidBeecham.“Butunlikely.”
“Why?”
“Dr.Ahmadi’soneofthearchitectsofIran’snuclearprogram,”saidCargill.“Atleastthat’swhatwebelieve.It’sdifficulttogetpreciseinformationonaweaponsprogramtheydenyhaving.”
“Weknowtheyhaveone,whatwedon’tknowisifthey’vemanagedtodevelopabombyet,”saidBeecham.
“Sowhatdoesthismean?”Ellenlookedfromonetotheother,searchingtheirfaces.“WhywouldDr.Ahmaditrytostopthemurdersofthesephysicists?”
“Weconsideredthepossibilityhe’saforeignagentintheemployofanothercountry,”saidBeecham.“TheSaudis,forinstance,whoaredesperatetodevelopanuclearweaponsprogram.They’dpaywell.OreventheIsraelis.They’vekilledIranianscientistsworkingonIran’snuclearprogram.”
“ButDr.AhmadiwouldneverworkfortheIsraelis,wouldhe?”askedEllen.
“Dependshowmuchtheypayandhowdesperateheis.Wecan’truleanythingout.”
Cargillwasshakinghishead.“Idon’tbelieveit.There’snowayAhmadiwouldcollaboratewithanothercountry.”
“Whydoyousaythat?Whatsortofmanishe,thisProfessorAhmadi?”askedEllen.
“YoumightrememberwhentheUSembassyinTehranwasoccupiedbythestudentsandAmericanhostagestaken?”askedBeecham.“Backin1979.”
Ellenglaredathim.“Yes,Ibelievesomeonementionedthat.”
“Well,BehnamAhmadiwasoneofthestudents.WehavephotographsofhimholdingaguntoanAmericandiplomat’shead.”
“I’dliketoseethose.”
“I’llsendthemtoyou,MadameSecretary,”saidBeecham.“BehnamAhmadiisatruebeliever.AfollowerofKhomeiniandadevoteeofthehard-lineclericMohammadYazdi.”
“Butbotharedead,”saidEllen.
“True,butitprovesDr.Ahmadi’sloyaltiesandbeliefs,”saidBeecham.“He’snowclearlyalignedbehindthecurrentGrandAyatollah,Khosravi.”
“Didn’tKhosraviissueafatwaagainstanynuclearweaponsprogram?”askedEllen.Withsomesatisfaction,shesawBeecham’ssurprisethatshe’dknowsomuch.
“Yes,”saidCargill.“Butwedon’tbelieveitwassincere.AslongasIranwaspartoftheJointComprehensivePlanofActionandallowedinUNinspectors,wewereprettysuretheirprogramhadstopped.ButsincetheDunnadministrationthrewitout…”
“Iranhasbeenfreetomoveforward,”saidEllen.
“It’smadeitfarmoredifficulttoverifyanything,”saidBeecham.
Sothequestionremained.“WhywouldanIranianhard-linertrytosavethreePakistaninuclearphysicistswhoseworkcouldhurthiscountry?”Ellenasked.
Therewassilence.Clearlytheyhadnoidea.Foramomentshethoughtthescreenhadfrozen.
“Thereisonemorepieceofimportantinformation,MadameSecretary,”theDNIfinallysaid.“Youmightnotlikeit.”
“There’salmostnothingaboutthepasttwenty-fourhoursIhaveliked.Let’shaveit,Tim.”
“AfteryouleftDCandtooktheFSOwithyou,wedidadeepdiveintoAnahitaDahir’sbackground.”
ThespiderhadcrawleduptothebaseofEllen’sskull.
“ShetoldusthatherparentsareLebaneseandtheycamehereasrefugeesfleeingBeirutduringthecivilwar.Wechecked,andthat’swhattheirapplicationforrefugeestatussays.”
But,thoughtEllen.But…
“Butatthetime,duringthewar,therewasnowaytothoroughlycheck.Nowwecan.Anddid.Ms.Dahir’smotherisaMaroniteChristianfromBeirut.Aprofessorofhistory.”
But,thoughtEllen.But…
“ButherfatherisnotLebanese,”saidBeecham.“He’saneconomist.FromIran.”
“Areyousure?”
“Iwouldn’tbetellingyouthisifweweren’t.”
AndEllenthoughtthatwasprobablytrue.
“This’stheFSOwho’stravelingwithyou?”askedCargill.“Howmuchaccesshasshebeengiven?”
EllenturnedtoCharlesBoynton,who’dbeensilentandallbutinvisibleduringthemeeting.Hehad,shenoticed,thatrareabilitytodisappearwhilestillbeingpresent.Notagreatadvantageinsocialsituations,butahugeadvantageifhopingtominesecretsofState.
“TheFSOdoesn’thavetopsecretsecurityclearanceoraccesscodes,”saidBoynton.
“Butshedoeshaveearsandabrain,”saidEllen.“Shemanagedtotalkherwayintomymeetingyesterday.Findher.Bringherhere.”
WhenBoyntonleft,EllenturnedbacktothescreenintimetoseeanaidespeakingquietlytoBeechamandshowinghimsomething.He’dputhismonitoronmute,buttheycouldseehewasbothinterestedandannoyed.
Heturnedbacktoherandunmuted.“WhenwereyouplanningtotellmethatyouhaveasuspectintheFrankfurtbombing?”
“Iwascomingtoit.”
“Well,noneednow.Ajunioraidejusttoldme.ShegotitoffCNN.”Hisfacewasalmostpurple.
“Wouldyouexcuseus,please?”EllenaskedCargill,knowingthiswasgoingtogetugly.
Whenheleft,TimBeechamroundedonher.“YoudoknowthatthePresidentisalsogettingthisfromthetelevisionandnotfromus.”
“Enough,Tim,”saidEllen,raisingahand.“Iunderstandyourfrustration,butthefactisweonlyjustfoundthisoutourselvesandIcamestraighthere.Youdidn’tgivemeachancetosayanything.”
Sheknewthatwasprobablyunfair,butthetruthwas,Ellenwasinnohurrytotellthismananything.
Incase…IncasetheDNIwasthebogeyman.
SheagainwonderedhowBetsywasgettingalongandifithadbeenamistaketosendaretiredschoolteachertodigupinformationonapossibletraitor.
Shealsowonderedwhyshehadn’theardfromBetsyyet.ButthenherphonewasinthehandsoftheDiplomaticSecurityagentoutsidethedoor.Betsymighthavetried.
“Tellmenow,”snappedTimBeecham.
SoEllendid,andfinishedbysaying,“Wenowthinkit’spossiblehewassupposedtobeasuicidebomber.LondonandParishavegonebackoverrecordings.Theythinkthey’veID’dthebombersfromcamerasinsidethebus.Bothdiedintheexplosions.”
“Sowhydidn’tthisone?”
“Wethinkhewentagainstorders.”
“Whichmakeshimextremelyvaluabletous,”saidBeecham.“Andextremelydangeroustowhoeverplannedallthis.”
“Yes.”
EllenwatchedasenioraideslideapapertoTimBeecham,whoreadit,afleetingglanceofgenuinepuzzlementcrossinghisface.
“We’vefoundoutmoreaboutyourFSOandherfamily.”Hetappedthepaperinfrontofhim.“WhenherfatherarrivedinBeirutfromIranaftertherevolution,hechangedhisnametoDahir.BeforethatitwasAhmadi.”
NowitwasEllen’sturntofreeze.“Ahmadi?AsinBehnamAhmadi?”
“Hisbrother.”
AnahitaDahir’sunclerantheIranianweaponsprogram.
CHAPTER16
“Scott?”
Cargilllookedupfromthemessagespouringin.Itwasgettingmoreandmoredifficulttomanagethefloodofinformation.Toseparatetheimportantfromthetrivial.Thefactsfromfalsereports.
ThebomberhadbeensightedalloverEuropeandevenRussia.
“Yes?Whatisit?”
“BadK?tzting.”
“Areyousure?”
“Positive.Helivesthere.Localpolicerecognizedhim.SenthisID.”
SheshowedittoherStationChief.
Andtherehewas.AramWani.Agetwenty-seven.AndhisaddressinthesmallBavariantown.
“Hehasawifeandchild.”
“Ishetherenow?”
“Wedon’tknow.I’veaskedthatSpezialeinsatzkommandosbesenttohishome.They’reontheirwayfromNuremburg,butit’lltakeawhile.Inthemeantime,I’veinstructedthelocalcopstosendsomeoneintoquietlycheck.”
“Good.Weneedtogetthere.”
“Ihaveahelicopterwaiting.”
“Ja?”
Theyoungwomanopenedthedoorasliver.
“FrauWani?”
“Ja.”
Shehadachildinherarmsandlookedwarybutnotactuallyafraid.
ThefemalecopwasincivilianclothesandoldenoughtobeFrauWani’smother.Almosthergrandmother.
“Oh,good.Ihopeyoudon’tmindmydroppingbywithoutcallingfirst.”
“No,butwhoareyou?”Thedooropenedwider.
“Myname’sNaomi.Coldday.”Theofficerbroughthershouldersupandherelbowsin,toindicateachill.Thedooropenedwider,andshewasinvitedin.“Danke.”
“Bitte.”
“Really,it’smorethedamp,isn’tit?”Naomismiledwarmlyandlookedaround.Thehomewassmall,immaculate.Thechild,aneighteen-month-oldgirl,wasalmostimpossiblybeautiful,withthelightbrowncomplexionandblueeyesofachildfromaGermanmotherandIranianfather.
FrauWanihadbeenbornandraisedinGermanyofEuropeanheritage,theofficerknew,havingdoneaquickcheckbeforeheadingover.
“Didn’tyourhusbandtellyou?”sheasked.
“No.”
Theofficershookherheadasiftoindicate,Men.
“Asyouknow,aregionallotteryhasbeencreatedtoofferfast-trackedcitizenshiptoimmigrants.BecauseyourhusbandmarriedaGerman”—shesmiledevenmorewarmly—“andhasachild,hisnameappearedassomeonewho’seligible.”Nowshepausedandlookedconcerned.“HeisAramWani,isn’the?”
“Oh,yes.”FrauWani’sfaceopenedinahugesmile.Shesteppedasidecompletelyand,shuttingthedoor,indicatedthathervisitorshouldgointothekitchen.“I’veneverheardofthislottery.Butit’strue?”
“Itis.ButIneedtoaskhimafewquestions.Ishehere?”
AramWanisatslouchedatthebackofthebus.
Ifhesawanyironyinthis,hedidn’tshowit.Infact,heshowednothing.Nothing.Becauseifheletanythingout,he’dburstintoflames.
Hehadtogethome.Gettohisfamily.Getthemout.GetacrosstheborderintotheCzechRepublic.He’dhopedtodoitbeforeanyonefoundouthewasstillalive.Butinthebusstationhe’dseenhisfacealloverthescreens.
Theyknew.Thepolice,yes,butalsoShahandtheRussians.
He’dconsideredturninghimselfin.Thenhe’dhaveatleastachanceofsurvival.AndhecouldbegtheGermanauthoritiestoprotecthisfamily.Buttherewasn’ttime.Hehadtogettothemfirst.
BetsyJamesonwalkeddownMahoganyRowcarryingabagwithchickensaladonacroissant.Itwasaprop,togivetheimpressionthatallwasnormal.
Afewstaffersstoppedintheirrushingaroundtogreetherandaskifshe’dheardanythingfromSecretaryAdams.Andwhatshewasdoingback.
“TheSecretarywantedmehere,incaseanythingshouldcomeup,”shesaid.
Fortunately,peopleintheStateDepartmentweretoobusytocareabouthervagueanswers.Andmostknewnottoasktoomanyquestions.
Theplacewashopping.Newsofthebomber’sphotographhadshotthroughtheoffices,raisinghopesthatabreakthroughmightbecomingsoon.
TheStateDepartmentinWashingtonwasusedtocrises.Therewasalwaysatleastoneplaceintheworldthathadgoneintothecrapperanddemandedaresponse.Butthiswasdifferent.Notsimplybecausetheterrorattackshadsucceededsospectacularlywell,butthatnooneinthatbuilding,nooneintheintelligencecommunityanywhere,hadheardevenawhisperedwarning.
Nothing.
Andifthey’dheardnothingaboutthoseattacks,whatelsewasabouttohappen?Thatwasthenightmarethesepeoplelivedwith.
TheNationalTerrorismAdvisorySystemhadissuedanalert,warningcitizensthatanotherattack,thisoneonAmericansoil,couldbeimminent.
Ineveryoffice,oneveryfloor,menandwomenoftheStateDepartmentwerecontactingcolleaguesandinformants.Mininginformation.Diggingdeep.Andwhenanuggetcamein,theytriedtodiscernthegoldfromthefool’sgold.
Usingherpasscard,BetsyheardthelocksonthethickdoorintotheSecretaryofState’ssuiteofofficesclunkandsawthedoorpopopenacrack,butbeforeshecouldenter,sheheardsomeonesay,“Mrs.Jameson.”
Sheturnedandsawawomanapproach,wearingthedeepgreenuniformandinsigniaofacaptainintheArmyRangers.SpecialForces.
“Yes?”
“GeneralWhiteheadheardyouwerebackandsentmeover.Hesaysifyouneedanything,tocallme.MynameisDenisePhelan.”Betsyfeltsomethingarriveinherjacketpocket.“Don’thesitate.”
ThenCaptainPhelansmiledengaginglyandwalkedbacktowardtheelevators,leavingBetsytowonderwhyshewouldpossiblyneedthehelpofanArmyRanger.
OnceintoEllen’ssuiteofoffices,shewasgreetedbythemenandwomenwhosupportedtheSecretary.TheyallknewshewasSecretaryAdams’scounselor.Anhonoraryposition,theybelieved.TheretomorallysupporttheSecretaryofState,butnottodoanyseriouswork.
Theywerecourteous,friendly,andvaguelydismissive.
Forherpart,Betsychattedaway,makingsmalltalk,evenperchingonthecornerofadesk.Apparentlysettlinginforanicelongchin-wag.
Afterdecadesofteachinghighschool,BetsyJamesonhadbecomefluentinbodylanguage.Especiallythatofpeoplewho’dcompletelylostinterest.
Whenshewasprettysureshe’dannoyedeveryonetothepointofnearexplosion,shewentintoEllen’sprivateofficeandclosedthedoor.Knowingthoseoutsidewouldrathergnawtheirhandoffthanriskmoreinanechatterfromsomeonewhoclearlydidnotgraspthattheywereinthemiddleofacrisis.
BetsyJamesonknewshewouldnotbedisturbed.
ShesatonthesmallcouchinEllen’soffice,tookthecroissantoutofitsbagandplaceditonsomepapers,thenbroughtupCandyCrushonherphone,andafterplayingagameandahalf,sheturnedoffthescreensavermodesoitwouldcontinuetoshowthegame.
Anyonewhoenteredwouldseeitonherphoneandthinkshehadnothingbettertodothanplayandeat.TheycertainlywouldneversuspectshewasgatheringinformationontheDirectorofNationalIntelligence.
ThenshewentthroughtheconnectingdoorintoCharlesBoynton’soffice.Turningonhiscomputer,sheputinhispassword.Ifanyonetracedwhatshewasdoing,itwouldcomebacktothatferretBoynton.Nother.NotEllen.
Asshesettledintothechair,shefeltsomethinghardandrectangularinherpocket.
Evenbeforeshepulleditout,Betsyknewwhatitwas.Aphone.Aburner.SlippedintoherjacketbyCaptainPhelan.
Pressingiton,shesawitwasfullychargedwithjustonenumberpreprogrammed.Replacingit,BetsylookedatBoynton’sscreen.Tookadeepbreath,andwenttowork.
Thosewhounderestimatedteachersdidsoattheirperil.
“OK,youshithead,”shemutteredasshetyped.“I’mcomingforyou.”
Shehitenter,andupcametheconfidentialfilesonTimothyT.Beecham.
Anahitatookthechairindicatedinthebunker-likeofficeinthebasementoftheFrankfurtconsulate.
SheandSecretaryAdamshadbeenjoinedbyCharlesBoynton.TimBeecham,theDNI,andthetwoofficerswho’dinterrogatedherwereon-screenfromDC.
TheseniorofficerbegantotalkbutwaspolitelyandfirmlysilencedbytheSecretaryofState.
“Ifyoudon’tmind,I’llleadthisinterview.If,whenI’vefinished,youhavequestions,youmay,ofcourse,askthem.”
Shehaddeliberatelycalledthisaninterviewandnotaninterrogation.ShewantedtoputAnahitaDahiratease.Andshecouldseeitwasworking.
AlreadytheFSOlookedlessstressed,seeingthatSecretaryAdamsandnottheotherswouldleadthequestioning.
ShethinksI’mherfriend.She’swrong.
Anahitaforcedherfacetorelax.Forcedherbodytorelax.
Justenoughtogivetheimpressionshe’dbeentakenin.Butshehadnot.
TheFSO’sguardwasashighasever.Thoughshesuspecteditwasnothighenough.Andthatitwasfartoolate.
Theyknew.
WhatAnahitaDahirdidn’tknowwasjusthowmuchthey’dfoundout.They’dswarmedoverherwalls,thatmuchwasobvious,buthowdeepintoherlifehadtheymanagedtoget?
Betsy’shandhoveredaninchoverBoynton’skeyboard.
She’dheardsomething.Someonewasintheouteroffice.
Sheglancedatthedoor.Itwasclosedbutnotlocked.
Cursingherself,Betsyrealizedshedidn’thavetimetologoutandclosedown.Reachingbehindher,shegrabbedthepowercordandyankeditfromthewall.
Shedidn’twaitaroundtoseethescreengoblank.Scoopinguphernotes,sheleaptbackthroughthedoorintoEllen’sofficeandgottothecouchjustasBarbStenhauserappeared.
TheWhiteHouseChiefofStaffstoppedsuddenlyandstaredatBetsy.
“Mrs.Jameson,IthoughtyouwereinFrankfurtwithSecretaryAdams.”
“Oh,hello.”Betsyputdownhersandwich.“Iwas,but…”
“Yes?”
Butwhat?What?Betsyrackedherbrains.Shehadn’texpectedtorunintoBarbStenhauser.ItwasunusualintheextremefortheWhiteHouseChiefofStafftocometoFoggyBottom.
Stenhauserwaswaiting.
“Well,this’sembarrassing…”
ForGod’ssake,Betsybeggedherbrain,nowyou’remakingitworse.Whatcouldpossiblybeembarrassing?Comeupwithsomething.
“Wegotintoafight,”sheblurtedout.
“Oh,that’sashame.Must’vebeenquitebad.Whatwasitabout?”
Oh,forChrist’ssake,thoughtBetsy.Whatwasitabout???
“Herson.Gil.”
“Really?Whatabouthim?”
WasitBetsy’sfeveredmind,orhadStenhauser’stonechanged?Frommildsurprisetomountingsuspicion.
“Pardon?”
“Thefight.Whatwasitabout?”
“Well,that’spersonal.”
“Still,”saidtheChiefofStaff,takingastepdeeperintotheroom.“I’dliketohear.Youcantrustme.”
“Ithinkyoucanprobablyguess,”saidBetsy.Please.Pleaseguess.
BarbStenhauserstaredather,andBetsyrealized,withsomesurprise,thatshewasactuallytryingtoguess.TheWhiteHouseChiefofStaffneverwantedtoappearignorant.Hercurrencywasknowingeverything.HerAchilles’heelwasnotbeingabletoadmitwhenshedidnot.
“Thekidnapping.”Stenhausersaiditwithsuchauthority,evenBetsybelieveditforamoment.
BarbStenhauserhadinfacthitontheone,theonlythingthatcouldpossiblyfractureBetsy’sfriendshipwithEllen.
ThekidnappingofGilBaharthreeyearsearlier.
AndthenBetsyhitontheonethingStenhauserreally,alwayswantedtohear.Thewordsthatreleasedthearrow.TheonlythingthatmightbringdowntheWhiteHouseChiefofStaff.
“You’reright.”ShesawStenhauserrelax.Likeajunkiewithafix.
Shewaswrong,ofcourse,butnowBetsyhadthepathforward.
“ItoldEllenIthoughtthenSenatorWilliamshadbeenrightnottonegotiateforGil’srelease.”
“Really?”saidStenhauser,takingastepclosertoBetsyandglancingtowardthegameofCandyCrushuponthephone.Betsyquicklyturneditoff,inapparentembarrassment.
“YouagreedwiththeSenator?”hisChiefofStaffasked.
“Idid.Ithoughtitwasacourageousstand.”
“Thatwasmyidea,youknow.”
“Ahhh,Ishould’veguessed.”Tohersurprise,Betsywasabletokeeptherevulsionoutofhervoice.
Thoselongweeks,whenGilwasmissinginAfghanistan.Thenthatphoto.Filthy,disheveled.Mattedhairandbeard.Almostunrecognizable,excepttoamother.Andagodmother.
Thoseeyes,haunted.Nearempty.
Brilliant,vibrant,troubledGil.Onhisknees,twoPathanTalibanfightersstandingbehindhim,AK-47sslungacrosstheirchests,asthoughhewereabuckandtheythehunters.
“SenatorWilliamswantedtonegotiateatfirst,butIpointedoutthatasuccessfulrunfortheWhiteHousedependedonourshowingstrengthandresolve.”
Betsyforcedathinsmile,tryingtokeephereyesonthelongviewandnotonthispieceofcrap.
“Wise.”
Ithadbeenanightmare.
Everynightonthenews,onEllen’sownchannels,therewereimagesofthebeheadings.AndphotographsofGilBahar,thecelebratedjournalist.TheonlyUShostageandaprizeoneatthat.
Hisowndeathwasthreatenedeveryday.
Ellenhadbegged,literallygottenonherkneesandbeggedSenatorWilliamstousebackchannelstogethimreleased.Officially,theUScouldnotbeseentonegotiatewithterrorists,andcertainlynotthePathan,themostbrutaloffshootoftheTaliban.Butprivately,ithappenedallthetime.
Sometimesevensuccessfully.
Butthistime,despiteEllenprostratingherself,thenSenatorWilliams,thechairoftheSenateIntelligenceCommittee,refused.
Ellenneverfullyrecoveredfromtheterrorofthattime.Andneverforgavehim.Neverwould.
NeitherwouldBetsyJameson.
AndDougWilliamswouldneverforgiveEllenAdamsforthemercilesscampaignhermediaempirehadthenwagedtostophimfromwinningthepartynomination.
“Atthetime,ItoldEllenIagreedwithherwhenshecalledSenatorWilliamsanarrogant,power-drunkmaniac.”
Ellenhadgoneafterhimwithalltheresourcesathercommand,intentonperformingherownpoliticalbeheading.
Unfortunately,ithadn’tquiteworked,andEllen’spoliticalenemy,hernemesis,hadactuallybeenelectedpresident.And,toeveryone’sastonishment,hadpickedEllenAdamsashisSecretaryofState.
ButEllenknewwhy.AndBetsyknewwhy.PresidentWilliamshadhisownexecutionplanned.
Firsthe’dpluckEllenAdamsfromhermediaperchandputherinhiscabinet,whereSecretaryAdamswouldbecomehishostage.Thenhe’ddrawtheswordacrossherthroat.
IfEllenorBetsyhadhadanydoubtsabouthismotives,thetriptoSouthKoreahadputthemtorest.Itwasafailurethatshouldnothavehappened.Ithadbeenapublicexecution,orchestratedbytheUSPresident,whowould,apparently,stopatnothingtoruinhisownSecretaryofState.
“OntheflightovertoFrankfurt,”BetsysaidtotheWhiteHouseChiefofStaff,“IhadafewtoomanyandtoldEllenthatIthoughtPresidentWilliamswasn’tavacantassholewithshitforbrains.Thathecertainlywasn’taprickwho’descapedfromabagofidiots.Andhesurewasn’tadumb-as-dirtegotistwhogothislawdegreebymailingintopsfromCap’nCrunchboxes.”
Betsywasnowenjoyingherself.Ithadbeenawhilesinceshe’dtakenrogueMrs.Cleaveroutforaspin.
Butitwastimetomoveon.
Almostgaggingonthenextthingsheknewshehadtosay,BetsylookedBarbStenhauserintheeyesandlied.“ItoldherIthoughthe’ddonetherightthinginnotrescuingGil.He’dhadnochoice.”
“Andshesentyouhomeforit.”
“Iwasluckyshedidn’tthrowmeoutofAirForceThree.SoI’msittinghere,eatingasandwich,playingCandyCrush,andtryingtogetupthecouragetocallherandapologize.EvenifIbelievethatDougWilliamsisanarcissisticshithead.”
OK,thatfeltgood.
“Isorisn’t?”
“Pardon?”
“Yousaidheisanarcissisticyou-know-what.”
“What?”
“Nevermind.”
“Whatareyoudoinghere?”Betsyasked.“CanIhelpyou?”
“No.ThePresidentsentmeovertoseeifSecretaryAdamsorherChiefofStaffleftanynotesbehind,fromtheirmeeting.Inalltheexcitement,thestenographerseemstohavemissedsomepoints.”
“Goodluck.Asyoucansee,herdeskisadumpandhisisfartooneatforanyrealworktoexist.”Betsyhesitated.“Youworkedtogetherbefore,didn’tyou?YouandBoynton?”
“Briefly.”
“OntheIntelligenceCommittee,whenSenatorWilliamschairedit.”
“Yes.Andonthecampaign.”
IthadbeenaguessonBetsy’spart,buthadn’tbeenthatdifficulttoputtogethersinceStenhauserherselfhadassignedCharlesBoyntonasEllen’sChiefofStaff.AsshewatchedStenhauserwalkintoBoynton’sofficeandclosethedoor,shewonderedjusthowcrowdedthatbagofidiotswas.Andwhoelsehadescaped
BetsyshotoffaquickemailtoEllensayingshe’darrivedatStateandthankingherfortheyoungagentshe’dsenttoguardher.
Thesubjunctivewouldhavewalkedintoabar…
TwentyminuteslatershetriedthedoorintoBoynton’soffice.Itwasunlockedandempty.
BarbStenhauserhadleft.
SittingatBoynton’sdesk,shereachedbehindherforthepowercord.Herheartskippedabeat.
CharlesBoynton’scomputerhadalreadybeenpluggedbackin.
ScottCargilldiduphisseatbeltandindicatedtothepilotthattheyshouldtakeoff.
Hisnumbertwohandedhimherphone.Hereadthemessagequickly,hisfacerevealingnothing.“Theothers?”
“We’rechecking.Shouldhavenewsinminutes.”
CargillgaveacurtnodandsentoffamessagetotheSecretaryofState,thenlookedoutoverFrankfurtasthehelicopterbankedandheadedeast.ToBavariaandthecharmingmedievalvillageofBadK?tzting,whereaterroristhadmadeahome.
TheDiplomaticSecurityagenthandedEllenherphone.AnurgentflaggedmessagehadcomeinfromScottCargill.
NasrinBukhari’shusbandfoundmurdered.Checkingotherfamilies.HavetrackedbombingsuspecttoBavaria.Onway.
Cargilllookedatthereply.Goodluck.Letmeknow.
EllenhandedherphonebacktothesecurityagentandturnedtoAnahita.
“Wedon’thavemuchtime,Ms.Dahir,”saidSecretaryAdams,hervoicebrusque,formal.“You’veliedtousoverandover.Nowyouneedtotellusthetruth.”
Anahitasatboltuprightinthechairandnodded.
“What’syourinvolvementinthebombings?”
Anahita’ssurprisewasevident.“MadameSecretary?”
“Enough.Weknowaboutyourfather.”
“Whatabouthim?”Shekepthervoicelevel.
Itwasridiculoustonottellthemeverything.Theyobviouslyknew,andtodenyitwouldjustmakethingsworse.
AndyetAnahitaDahirfoundthatshecouldnottellthemthetruth.Itwastheonethingherparentshadaskedofher.Theonethingshe’dpromisednevertotell.Anyone.
Notalivingsoul,hermother,whobelievedinsouls,hadsaid.
Herfather,whodidnot,hadplacedheronhiskneeandtoldhernottobeafraid.Thateverythingwouldbefineifshekeptjustthisonesecret.Andthenhetoldherhelovedhermorethanlifeitself.
Hebelievedinlife,inthesanctityoflife.
Whenshewasoldenoughtounderstand,he’dtoldherwhytheirbigsecretcouldneverleavetheirlittlehomeintheDCsuburb.
Inacalmvoiceheexplainedthattheirentirefamilyhadbeenmurdered.WipedoutinabloodyfrenzybyIranianhard-linersintherevolutionbecausehisfamily,herfamily,wereintellectualswhocouldnot,apparently,betrusted.
Becauseeducationledtoquestioning,whichledtoindependentthought.Whichledtoadesireforfreedom.Whichtheayatollahscouldnotcontrol.
“Iwastheonlyonetoescape.”
Hisvoicewasstrong,almostmatter-of-fact,buthisgriefshowedinhiseyes.
“You’reafraidtheIranianswillcomeafteryou,”she’dsaid.
“No.I’mafraidtheywon’thaveto.IftheAmericansfindoutIliedonmyrefugeeapplication,iftheyfindoutI’mactuallyIranian…”
“They’llsendyouback?”Bythenshewasoldenoughtoknowwhatthatwouldmean.“Iwillnever,evertell,”she’dpromised.
Andshehadn’t.Andshewouldn’t.
“This’sridiculous,”saidBeecham.“Youcanseeshe’snotgoingtocooperate.It’sclearwhoshe’sworkingfor,anditisn’tus.Arresther.Chargeher.”
ThesecurityagentintheroomtookasteptowardAnahita.
“Withwhat?”askedEllen,stayingtheagentwithamotionofherhand.
“Withsedition,withmassmurder,withterrorism.Withconspiracy,”saidBeecham.“Ifyoudon’tlikethose,Ihavemore.”
“You’reforgetting,”snappedEllen.“TheIranianmessagewasmeanttostopthebombs.Ifanythingtheyhelped.”
“ThemessagewasoutofIran?”Anahitaasked.
“Look,”saidEllen,losingallpatience.“Enoughofthis.Weknowyourfather’sIranian.Heliedonhisrefugeeapplication.WeknowhisnamewasAhmadi—”
“Whydidyourunclesendthemessage?”Beechamcutin.
Anahitalookedfromonetotheother.“What?”
EllenbroughtherhanddownsohardonthetablethebangmadeAnahitajumpandevenstartledBeechamallthewayacrosstheocean.
SecretaryAdamsleanedforwardsothatshewasrightupintoAnahita’sface.“Enough.Timeisshort.Weneedanswers.”
“Butyou’remistaken.Ihavenouncle.”
“Ofcourseyoudo,”snappedBeecham.“HelivesinTehran.Hisname’sBehnamAhmadiandhe’sanuclearphysicist.HehelpedcreateIran’sweaponsprogram.”
“That’snotpossible.Mywholefamilywaskilledintherevolution.Myfatherwastheonlyoneto—”
Shestopped,butitwastoolate.She’dletitout.
Anahitawaited.Waited.Forthemonster,theAzhiDahaka,together.Sopowerfulwastheimprinting,sodeepherpromisetoherparents,thatevenasarationaladultAnahitaDahirbelievedifsheletthatsecretescape,disasterwouldimmediatelyfollow.
Shewaited,hereyeswide,herbreathingerratic.
Butnothinghappened.ThoughAnahitawasn’tfooled.Themonsterhadbeenreleasedanditwascomingforthem.HurtlingtowardthemodestfamilyhomeinBethesda.
Sheneededtocallthem.Towarnthem.Towhat?Run?Hide?Where?
“Ana?”Thevoicecametoherfromfaraway.“Ana?”
AnahitacamebacktothebunkerroominthebasementoftheUSconsulateinFrankfurt.
“Tellus,”SecretaryAdamssaidsoftly.
“Idon’tunderstand.”
“Thenjusttelluswhatyouknow.”
“Iwastoldthey’dalldied.Myfather’swholefamily.Killedbytheextremists.ThatIhadnofamilyleft.”SheheldEllen’seyes.
“That’sbullshit,”saidtheseniorintelligenceofficer,onthescreenfromDC.“Themessagecameintoherstation.Heruncleknewwhereandhowtofindher.Shemustknowhim.”
“ButIdon’t,”saidAnahita,lookingatthem.
“Thenyouneedtocallyourfather,”saidEllen.Hervoicecrisp.Decisive.
“Isthatsuchagoodidea,MadameSecretary?”askedthesenioragent.
“It’sagoddamnedawfulidea,”saidBeecham.“Whydon’twejustlettheterroristsjoinourgroup?Comeonin.”Hewavedhisarms.“We’llshowyouwhatwehaveanddon’thave.”
HeglaredatEllen.Whoreturnedthestare.
“They’reontheirway,”reportedthejuniorintelligenceofficer,lookingupfromhisphone.“ShouldbeinBethesdaanyminute.”
“Who?”askedAnahita,feelingpanicrising.
Butsheknewtheanswer.
Themonster.Theoneshe’dreleased.
“Good,”saidBeecham,gettingtohisfeet.“I’mgoingtheretoo.”
BetsyJamesonstaredatthescreeninCharlesBoynton’sofficeattheStateDepartment.Hereyeswerewide,herhandwasoverhermouth.
“Darn.”
Betsy’sfriendsandfamilyhadnoticedyearsagothatwhenthingswerebad,herlanguagewasfilthy.Butwhenthingswerenearingcatastrophe,herlanguagecleanedrightup.
“Ohgosh,”Betsywhispered,throughhersplayedfingersasshestaredatthescreen.
BarbStenhauserhadseenwhatBetsyhadbeendoing.UponthescreenwashersearchoftherecordsonTimothyT.Beecham.
Oddlytruncatedfiles.
ThenBetsystartedlaughing.
WhatStenhauserwouldknowwasthatCharlesBoyntonhadbeenresearchingtheDirectorofNationalIntelligence.NotBetsyJameson,whowastoobusyplayingCandyCrushandeatingheremotions.
Shesatbackinthechairandtookadeepbreath,calmingherself.
Thensheleanedforwardandgottoworkagain.Clearlyadeeperdivewasnecessary.
AnhourlaterBetsytookoffherglasses,rubbedhereyes,andstaredatthescreen.Shewasgettingnowhere.Justwhenshethoughtshewasontoapromisinglead,shehitadeadend.Itwaslikebeinginamaze.WiththerealTimBeechaminthecenter,butnowaytogetthere.
Buttheremustbe.Shewasjustmissingit.
She’dtrieduniversityrecords.Sheknewhe’dgonetoHarvardLaw,buttherewasnothingthere.Justconfirmationhe’dgraduated,nothingelse.
Hismilitaryrecordshadbeensimilarlyexpunged.
Hewasmarriedwithtwochildren.Hewasforty-sevenyearsofage.RepublicanfamilyfromUtah.
Thatmuchcouldnotbekeptsecret.
Itwouldbeeasiertofindinformationonhermailcarrier,Betsyknew,thanontheDNI.Shecouldn’tevenfindoutwhattheTin“TimothyT.Beecham”stoodfor.
Whatsheneededwasn’ttherightpathtotheheartofthemaze.Whatsheneededwasachainsaw.
Sheputhercoatonandwentforawalk.Clearingherhead.Thinking.Thinking.
Sittingonaparkbench,shewatchedafewhardyjoggersgoby,thenspottedtheyoungmanfromtheplane.Herbodyguard.Hewasdiscreetlystandingbyasmallshed.
BetsybroughtoutherphoneandsawthereplyfromEllen.
Thesubjunctivewouldhavewalkedintoabar…haditonlyknown,themessagestarted.
Progressinghere,Ellen’snotecontinued.Gladyou’rehome.
P.S.Whatbodyguard?
Betsygatheredherthings,andwithoutlookingtowardtheshed,shebeganwalkingcasuallyaway.Herheartrunningahead,almostcatchinguptoherracingmind.
Strollingthroughtheincreasinglybitterday,shecouldfeeltheeyesonherback.
ThebuspulledintothesmallstationinBadK?tzting.
“Areyouleaving?”thedrivercalled,hisvoiceannoyed,impatient.
Aramhadwaiteduntileveryoneelsehadgottenout.Andthenwaitedalittlelonger,toseeifanyonewasloiteringinthestation.
Hesawnoone.
“DastutmirLeid,”hesaid.Ashebrushedpastthedriver,hepulledthewoolhathe’dboughtinFrankfurtfartherdownhisface.“Sorry.Iwasasleep.”
Thedriverdidn’tcare.Hejustwantedtogettothetavernforhotfoodandwarmbeer.
“Anothermessage,sir,”Cargill’ssecond-in-commandshoutedovertherotornoise.
Sheshowedhimherphoneandthebrieftext.
Thewives,children,parentsoftheotherbombersandphysicists,allmurdered.
“OhChrist,”hewhispered.“Shah’scleaningup.”Heleanedforwardandsaidtothepilot,“Faster.Weneedtogettherefaster.”
Thenhesaidtohissecond-in-command,“WarnthepoliceinBadK?tzting.”
Therewasthesoundofthefrontdooropening.
“Oh,thatmustbeAramnow.”
FrauWanigotupasNaomireachedbehindherandbroughtouthergun.
CHAPTER17
IrfanDahirpickedupthephoneandsmiled.
“Dorood,Anahita.Chetori?”
Therewasapause,butthenheknewhisdaughterwasinFrankfurt.Overseasconnectionscouldsometimeslag.
ThewordFarsiappearedatthebottomofEllen’sscreeninthebunkerroominFrankfurt,writtenbythetranslator.
Thenquicklymorewordsappeared:Hello,Anahita.Howareyoudoing?
EllenlookedatAnahitaandnodded,indicatingsheshouldreply.Buttheyoungwomanlookedstricken.Paralyzed.
“Ana?”thevoice,deep,warmwithjustaslightedgeofconcernnow,cameoverthespeaker.“Haletkhubah?”
AreyouOK?thetranslatortyped.
EllengesturedtowardAnahitatosaysomething.Anything.
“Salam,”shefinallysaid.
Hello.
Irfanfelthisheartstop;thenitthrewitselfagainsthisribcage.Tryingtoescape.
“Salam.”Thesimplewordhe’dtaughthisdaughterwhenshewasyoungenoughtotalkandoldenoughtounderstand.
“Hello”—butinArabic.Itwouldbe,he’dexplainedtothesolemnlittlegirl,theircode.Iftherewastrouble,ifanyoneeverfoundout,thensheshouldusetheArabicwordfor“hello.”NottheFarsi.
Helookedtowardthelivingroomwindow,whichopenedoutontothequietstreet.
Ablackcar,unmarked,waspullingintothedrive,andanotherwasparkedbythecurb.
“Irfan?”saidhiswife,cominginfromthekitchen,bringingwithherthefragranceofmintandcuminandcorianderfromthekaftasshewasmaking.“There’remeninthebackyard.”
Heexhaledabreathhe’dheldfordecades.
Bringingthephonebacktohisear,hesaid,insoftlyaccentedEnglish,“Iunderstand.Anahita,areyouallright?”
“Daddy,”shesaid,herchindimpling,“I’msorry.”
“That’sallright.Iloveyou.Anditwillallbefine,Iknowit.”
Listeningtothisdignifiedman,andwatchinghisdevastateddaughter,EllenAdamsfeltapangofshame.Butthensherememberedtheredblanketsflutteringinthebreeze,andthephotographsofthesonsanddaughters,husbandsandwivesandchildren,clutchedintremblinghands.
Andshenolongerfeltshame.Shefeltoutrage.EllenAdamswouldnotbreakfaithwiththosewhodied.
Throughthespeakertheyheardthedistantringofadoorbell.
IrfanDahirmotionedtohiswife,nowstandingstock-stillinthemiddleofthelivingroom,tojuststaythere.
Whenheunlockedthedoorandbegantoopenit,itwassuddenlythrustopen.Ashestumbledback,heavilyarmedmengrabbedhim,throwinghimtothefloor.
“Irfan!”hiswifescreamed.
Anahita’seyeswidenedinpanic.
“Daddy?Mommy?”sheshoutedintothephone.“What’shappening?”
ThekneeonIrfan’sbackgaveonelastsharpshove,pressingthebreathoutofhim;thenitlifted.
Hefelthimselfhoistedlikearagdolltohisfeet,whereheswayed.
“IrfanDahir?”
Heturnedandfocusedonanoldermaninplainclothes.Clean-shaven,shortgrayhair,suitandtie.Helooked,thoughtIrfaninhisslightlyconfusedstate,likeahighschoolprincipal.
“Yes,”hewhispered,hisvoicehoarse.
“You’reunderarrest.”
“Onwhatcharge?”
“Murder.”
“What?”
Hisastonishmenttraveleddownthephoneline,acrosstheAtlantic,andlandedintheUSconsulateinFrankfurt,whereitfoundtheearsofhisdaughter.AndtheAmericanSecretaryofState.
BetsyJamesontookherdouble-strengthespressototheroundbistrotableinthecorner.She’dalsoboughtamuffin.Somethingtojustifyhertakingupatable,eventhoughtheplacewasalmostempty.
Butitwasatleastpublic.
Theyoungmanwasnolongermakinganypretense.Itwasclearhewasfollowingher.
Shefeltthephone,stillinherjacketpocket.Bringingitout,shestaredatthenumber.Itbelonged,almostcertainly,toCaptainPhelan,theArmyRangersentbyGeneralWhitehead.
Herfingerhoveredoverthebutton.
“Don’thesitate,”DenisePhelanhadsaid,hereyesintense.
ButnowBetsydid.HowdidsheknowtheRangerhadbeensentbytheChairmanoftheJointChiefs?ShejusthadPhelan’sword.Andtoday,thatwasnotgoodenough.
Shemadeuphermind.Replacingthephoneinherpocket,Betsybroughtoutherownanddialed.Afterjumpingthroughinnumerablehoops,sheheardaman’sdeepvoice.
“Mrs.Jameson?”
“Yes.I’msorrytodisturbyou,General.”
“WhatcanIdoforyou?”
“We’venevermet—”
“True,butIknowwhoyouare.Didyougetmypackage?”
Betsyexhaled.Relievedbutalsosuddenlyexhausted.“Soshewasfromyou.”
“Yes.Butwiseofyoutocheck.Isthereaproblem?”
“Well…”Nowshefeltembarrassed.Butwhenshelookedacrossthecoffeeshoptothemansittingandwatching,anyembarrassmentdisappeared.“I’mwonderingifyou’djoinmeforadrink.”
“Absolutely.Whenandwhere?”
ThespeedwithwhichheagreedbothreassuredandtroubledBetsy.Itwasclearhewasworried.
Shetoldhimand,afterjumpinginataxiandgivingtheaddressofarandomhotel,shegotout,walkedtoasidedoor,andhailedanothertaxi.Somethingshe’dseenonTVshowsto“loseatail.”Andsomethingsheneverthoughtshe’dhavetodoinreallife.
Toherastonishment,itseemedtowork.
MinuteslatershewalkedintoOfftheRecord.ThebarinthebasementoftheHay-AdamshotelwasafamiliarhauntforWashingtoninsiders,withitsdimlightsandplushredvelvetupholstery.
RightacrossthestreetfromtheWhiteHouse,itwaswherejournalistsandpoliticalaideswhisperedindarkcorners.Whereconfidenceswereexchanged,anddealsstruck.
InsidetheBeltwayitwasconsideredneutralground.
Betsytookoneoftheprivatehalf-moonboothsandwatchedthedoorfortheGeneral,andalsoforhershadow.
IttookheramomenttorecognizeGeneralWhiteheadwhenhedidarrive.Thefactthatheslidintotheboothandintroducedhimselfwas,itmustbeadmitted,aclue.
IfBetsylookedlikeJuneCleaver,thismanlookedabitlikeFredMacMurray,fromMyThreeSons.Lanky,kindly.Amanmoreathomeinacardiganthanauniform.
WhileBetsyhadseenhimontelevisionmanytimes,andinpersonfromadistance,they’dneveractuallymet.Norhadsheanydesireto,untilnow.
BetsyJamesonhadasuspicionofthehigherranksinthemilitary,believingtheywere,atheart,warmongers.AndnoonewasofahigherrankthantheChairmanoftheJointChiefs.
AndnoonewasmoredeservingofhersuspicionsthanGeneralAlbertWhitehead,who’dalsoservedintheDunnadministration.
ButEllentrustedhim.AndBetsytrustedEllen.
Besides,shedidn’tknowwhoelsetoturnto.
Thehelicopterlanded,andCargillsprintedtothewaitingcar.
HesentaquickmessagetotheSecretaryofState.
OngroundinBadK?tzting.Onourwaytohouse.Updatelater.
Acamerahadbeensetup,andnowAnahita,inFrankfurt,sawherparentssittingsidebysideatthefamilydiningroomtableinBethesda.
Itwasaroomsheknewwell.Itwaswherebirthdayswerecelebrated.Whereholidaymealsweresharedwithfriends.Whereshe’ddoneherhomeworkeverydayforfifteenyears.
Whereshe’dscratchedtheinitialsofaboyshe’dhadacrushon.
Hermotherhadgivenherhellforthat.
Andnowshewasseeingsomethingshe’dneverhavethoughtpossiblegrowingup.TheDirectorofNationalIntelligencefortheUnitedStateshadjoinedherparentsatthemodesttable.Butitwasasfarfromasocialoccasionasitwaspossibletoget.
AsTimBeechamstudiedtheDahirs,sodidSecretaryAdams.Theirfaceswerewashedoutbytheharshlightsofthecamera.Butonethingcouldnotbewashedaway
Theywereterrified.AsscaredasiftheheadoftheIraniansecretpolicewassittingacrossfromthem.
Ellentriedtobanishthatcomparison,butitkeptcreepingbackviaAbuGhraibandGuantánamoandahostofblacksitesshewasjustlearningof.
“Telluswhatyouknowaboutthebombings,”saidTimBeecham.
“TheonesinEurope?”askedMayaDahir.
“Arethereothers?”demandedtheDNI.
NowMrs.Dahirlookedconfused.“No.Imean,Idon’tknow.”
“Onehundredandtwelvedeadandcounting,”saidBeecham,turninghisglarefromMayatoIrfan.“Hundredsmoreinjured.Andthetrailleadsbacktoyou.”
“Me?”IrfanDahirlookedgenuinelyshocked.“Ihadnothingtodowithit.Nothing.”
HeturnedtoMayaforsupport.Shelookedequallystunned,andequallyfrightened.
“Butyourbrother,Behnam,does,”saidBeecham.“Perhapsyoushouldaskhim.”
Irfanclosedhiseyesandloweredhishead.“Behn,”hewhispered,“whathaveyoudone?”
InFrankfurt,AnahitasatbesidetheSecretaryofStateandstaredatthemonitor.
Noneofthisseemedpossible.
“TellusaboutyourfamilyinTehran,Mr.Dahir.”
Aftertakingamomenttogatherhimself,Irfanbegantotalk.Tosaythewordshe’dkeptlockedtightlyawayfordecades.
“IhaveabrotherandsisterstillinTehran.”
“Daddy?”saidAnahita.
“Mysisterisadoctor,”hecontinued,notyetwillingorabletofacehisdaughter.“Mybrother,youngerbrother,isanuclearphysicist.Bothareloyaltotheregime.”
“Morethanloyal,”saidTimBeecham.“WehavepicturesofyourbrotherholdingaguntotheheadofaseniorAmericandiplomatwhenthehostagesweretaken.”
“Thatwasalongtimeago.HeandIwereverydifferent.”
Beechamleanedforward.“Maybenotquitesodifferent.Doesthislookfamiliar?”
Heheldupagrainynewspaperphoto,thelineunderitjustreadable.
StudentsholdingAmericanshostageinTehran.
“Well,Mr.Dahir?”
HadIrfanDahirbeencapableofsaying,I’mfucked,hewouldhave.Andhewas.
SoTimBeechamsaiditforhim.
“You’refucked,Mr.Dahir.That’syouinthephoto,isn’tit.Nexttoyourbrother.”
Irfanstared,hisshoulderssagging.He’dhadnoideasuchapictureexisted.He’devenmanagedtoforgetthatthatyoungmanraisingarifleoverhisheadintriumphhadexisted.Once.
“Yes.Itis.”Hetookseveralrapidshallowbreaths,asthoughhe’dfinishedaracethatwasfartoolong.Andfartoofar.
“Byourrecords,youdidn’tleaveIranforanothertwoyears.Hardlytheactofamanfleeingforhislife.”
Irfanconsideredforamomentbeforequietlysaying,“HaveyoueverheardoftheSecretary’sDilemma,Mr.Beecham?”
CHAPTER18
Aftertheirdrinksarrived,agingeraleforBetsyJameson,abeerforhimself,GeneralWhiteheadturnedtoher.
Oneofthereasonsshehadn’timmediatelyrecognizedhimwasbecausehewasn’tinuniform.BertWhiteheadhadtakenthetimetochangeintoaregularsuit.
“Lessconspicuous,”he’dexplainedwithasmile.
Betsyappreciatedthepoint.Itwouldbehardtobemoreconspicuousthanafour-starGeneralinuniform,coveredininsigniasandmedals.HelookedliketheTinManfromTheWizardofOz.Who’dbeensearchingforaheart,thoughtBetsy.
Wasthismanalsomissingaheart?Anarsenalofweaponsathisdisposalandnoheart.Itwasaterrifyingthought.
ButoutofuniformBertWhiteheadlookedlikeanyoneofthousandsofgovernmentbureaucrats.IfthegovernmenthadbeenstaffedbyFredMacMurray.
Andyettherewasabouthimanunmistakableauraofquietauthority.Shecouldseewhymenandwomenwouldfollowthisman.Woulddowhathesaid,unquestioning
“WhatcanIdoforyou,Mrs.Jameson?”
“I’mbeingfollowed.”
Heliftedhisheadinsurprisebutdidn’tlookaround.Therewas,though,aheightenedsenseofattention.
“Isthepersonhere?”
“Yes.Hearrivedjustbeforeyou.IthoughtI’dlosthim,butapparentlynot.He’sbehindyou.Bythedoor.”
“What’shelooklike?”
AfterBetsydescribedtheyoungman,BertWhiteheadexcusedhimselfand,asBetsywatched,walkedstraightovertohim.
Bendingdown,hesaidafewwords;thenthetwolefttogether,Whitehead’shandontheman’sarm.Itlookedfriendly,butBetsyknewitwasnot.
Aneternitylater,thoughbytheclockonherphoneitshowedjustovertwominuteshadpassed,BertWhiteheadreturnedtothebooth.
“Hewon’tbebotheringyouagain.”
“Whoishe?Whosenthim?”
WhenWhiteheaddidn’tanswer,Betsysaiditforhim.“TimothyT.Beecham.”
Helookedatherforamoment.“DidSecretaryAdamssayanythingtoyou?”
“ShesentmebackheretoseewhatIcoulddiguponBeecham.Tofindoutwhathemightbeinvolvedin.”
“Itoldhernottodoanything.”
“Well,youdon’tknowEllenAdams.”
Hesmiled.“I’mbeginningto.”
“WhatcanyoutellmeaboutBeecham?Ican’tfindanythinginthefiles.It’sallbeenmoved.”
“Orerased.”
“Whywouldanyonedothat?”
“Iguessbecausethere’ssomethingintheretheydon’twantanyonetosee.”
“What?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Butyouknowsomething.”
BertWhiteheadlookedunhappy.Even,perhaps,annoyedatbeingputinthisposition.Butfinallyherelented.
“AllIknowisthatagainstallsensibleadvice,againstmyownarguments,theDunnadministrationpulledoutofthenuclearaccordwithIran.Itwasaterriblemistake.ItclosedIrantoallinspection,allscrutiny,oftheirweaponsprogram.”
“WhatdoesthathavetodowithBeecham?”
“HewasoneoftheonespushingPresidentDunntodoit.”
“WhywouldBeechamdothat?”
“Thebetterquestionis,whobenefited?”
“Allright,let’spretendIaskedthebetterquestion.”
TheGeneralsmiled.Thenitdisappeared.“TheRussians,forone.Whenwepulledout,itgavethemfreereininIran.It’stoolatenowtochangethat.It’sdone.”Helookeddownatthecoastersonthetableandsmiled.“‘Whenthouhastdone,thouhastnotdone,forIhavemore.’”
GeneralWhiteheadlookedupandmethereyes.Hehad,unexpectedly,quotedtheEnglishpoetJohnDonne.Why?
Andthenshesawwhathe’dbeenlookingat.OneofOfftheRecord’sfamouscoasters,caricaturesofpoliticalleaders.
GeneralWhiteheadwaslookingattheoneofEricDunn.
Hewasn’tsaying,“Whenthouhastdone.”Hewassaying,“WhenthouhastDunn.”
EricDunn.
SecretaryAdamslistenedasBeechamcontinuedtoquestionIrfanDahir,thoughshewasbecomingmoreandmorefocusedonherphone.
FinallyshepickeditupandsentoffamessagetoScottCargill.Anynews?
Nothing.
“Whatdoyoumean?”Betsyasked.“WhatmoredoesEricDunnhave?Ineedtoknow.Ellenneedstoknow.”
GeneralWhiteheadsighed.“Forone,adesiretogetbackintopower.”
“Whatpoliticiandoesn’t?”Betsypointedtothecoastersonthetable.Amusingimagesofvariouspresidentsandcabinetministers,aswellassomeforeignleaders.
TheRussianPresident.TheSupremeLeaderofNorthKorea.ThePrimeMinisterofBritain.Allrecognizablefromthenightlynews.
“True,”saidGeneralWhitehead.“ButitgoesfardeeperthanEricDunn.ThereareelementsinsidetheUnitedStatesunhappywiththedirectionthecountryismovingin.They’reusinghim.TheyseeDunnastheonlychancetostoptheerosionoftheAmericanway.Notbecausehehasavision,butbecausehecanbemanipulated.First,though,theyneedtogethimbackintopower.”
“How?”
Hepausedforamoment,finding,choosing,hiswords.“WhatwouldhappeniftherewasacatastropheonAmericansoil?Aterrorattacksohorrificitwouldwoundthisnationforgenerations?Andithappenedduringthisadministration?”
“ItwouldbeblamedonDougWilliams.There’dbecallsforhisadministrationtostepdown.”
“Now,supposethePresidentdidnotsurvivetheattacks?”
Betsyfeltaweightonherchestsoheavyshecouldbarelybreathe.“Whatareyousaying?Isthatabouttohappen?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Butyou’reafraid.”
Hedidn’tanswer,buthislipswerecompressed,andhisknucklesturnedwhiteinanefforttocontrolhisfear.
Thehard-rightmediawasalreadyblamingthebusbombs,andthefailuretostopthem,onAmericanIntelligenceand,byextension,thisnewadministration.Andeventhemoremoderateoutletswerebeginningtowhipupfearsofanotherattack.Abiggerattack.OnAmericansoil.
Andifonehappened…
“AreyousayingtheformerPresidentwouldknowinglyallowterroriststogettheirhandsonabomb,maybeevenanuclearweaponanduseitinordertogetbackintopower?”askedBetsy.
“Idon’tthinkit’ssomethingEricDunnwouldconsciously,knowinglyagreeto.Ithinkhe’sbeingused,notjustbytheRussians,butbyotherelementsclosertohome.
“Inhisparty?”
“Yes,probably,butitgoesfarbeyondpartyaffiliation.TherearethosewhohateAmerica’sdiversityandthechangesit’sbrought.Theyseeitasathreat,totheirlivelihoods,totheirwayoflife.Theythinkofthemselves,seethemselves,aspatriots.Youmust’veseenthematdemonstrations.Truebelievers,neo-Nazis,fascists.”
“Ihaveseenthem,General,andIcan’tbelievethosepeoplewithplacardsareorchestratingallthis.”
“No,they’rethevisiblesymptom.Thediseaseisdeeper.Thosewithpowerandwealth,whowanttoprotectwhattheyhave.Andwhowantmore.”
ForIhavemore…
“They’vefoundtheperfectvehicleinEricDunn.”
“TheirTrojanhorse,”saidBetsy.
Whiteheadsmiled.“Agoodanalogy.Hollow.Anemptyvesselintowhichthesemenandwomenhavepouredtheirambitions,theiroutrages,theirhatredsandinsecurities.”
Asshewatchedhim,asshelistenedtohistone,somethingstruckher.“DidyoulikeEricDunn?”
GeneralWhiteheadshookhishead.“Ineitherlikednorhatedhim.HewasmyCommander-in-Chief.Isuspecthewasadecentpersononce.Mostpeopleare.Fewgrowuphopingtodestroytheircountry.”
“Butyou’resayingtheonesbehindthisdon’tthinktheyaredestroyingthecountry.Justtheopposite.Theythinkthey’repatriots,savingtheircountry.”
“Theircountry.That’showtheyseeit.UsandThem.They’reasradicalizedasAl-Qaeda.Domesticterrorists.”
Wasthismancrazy?Betsywondered.Toomanyknocksonthehead?Toomanycrispsalutes?Washeseeingconspiracieswherenoneexisted?
Shedidn’tknowwhattohope.ThattheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaffwasadelusionallunatic,orthathewassayingwhatothersweretooafraidtoacknowledge.
Thattherewasagenuinethreatagainstthecountry.Fromwithin.
Betsydriftedherfingerupanddownherperspiringglassofgingeraleandwisheditwaswhiskey.
“AndBeecham?Howdoeshefitintothis?”
WhenWhitehead’smouthtightenedsothathislipswerebarelyvisible,shesaid,“You’vecomethisfar.Ineedtoknow.What’shisroleinallthis?”
“Idon’tknow.I’vetriedtofindout,throughbackchannels,buthaven’tmanagedanythingyet.”
“Butyoususpect.”
“WhatIdoknowisthatTimBeechamwasinchargeofintelligenceanalysisoftheIraniannuclearprogram.Heknowsagreatdealaboutthemovementofarmsinthatregion.Heknowspeople.”
“Shah?”
“WhydidtheDunnadministrationagreetoShah’srelease?”askedWhitehead.
“Don’tlookatme.”
“Withinmonths,theadministrationwithdrewfromthepact,givingIranfreereinwithitsnuclearprogram,andthenitallowedaPakistanitraffickerinnucleararmstobefreed.”
“Arethetworelated?”askedBetsy.
“Insofarasbothincreasedtheriskofnuclearproliferation,yes.Butwhat,specifically,istheendgame?”
“Again,”saidBetsy,“wrongpersontoask.GivemeanotherJohnDonnequoteandI’llbeabletohelp.”
Whitehead’ssmilewasshort-lived.“WhatIdoknowisthattheconstantinbothdecisionswasTimBeecham.”
“Youknowwhatyou’resaying?”
“I’mafraidIdo.”AndGeneralWhiteheadlookedafraid.“There’smore.”
“‘ForIhavemore,’”saidBetsy,quietly.Andwaitedforit.
“It’swhat’scalleda‘wickedproblem.’TheMiddleEastwasalreadyacauldron,thoughfairlystable.AndthenPresidentDunnwithdrewallourtroopsfromAfghanistanwithnoplanorconditionsrequiredfromtheTaliban.PresidentWilliamsinheritedthatdecision.”
Betsypaused,studyingthemilitaryman.Washerinitialimpressionright?WasheawarmongerwithFredMacMurray’sface?
“Iknowitwascontroversial,butwehadtoleavesometime,”shesaid.“Bringourtroopshome.Ithoughtitwastheonegoodthinghedid.”
“Noonewantstoseethemoutofharm’swaymorethanIdo,believeme.AndIagree,itwastime.Thatwasn’ttheissue.”
“Thenwhatwas?”
“Itwasdonewithoutaplan,withoutgettinganythinginreturn.Nothingwasputinplacetomakesureallthegains,thehard-wonstability,ourintelligenceandcounterintelligenceandcounterterrorismcapabilitieswouldbemaintained.UndertheDunnplanavacuumwascreated.OnetheTalibanishappytofill.”
Betsysatback.“Huh.You’resayingaftermorethantwodecadesoffighting,theTalibanisbackincontrolofAfghanistan?”
“Itwillbe.AnditwillbringwithitnotjustAl-Qaeda,butthePathan.Doyouknowthem?”
“They’retheoneswhokidnappedGil.”
“SecretaryAdams’sson,yes.They’reanextendedfamilyofextremists,withclawsineveryorganization,legitimateandotherwise,intheregion.Thecurrentso-calleddemocraticgovernmentofAfghanistanwasproppedupbyus.Removeus,withoutaplan…”Heopenedhishands.“Alltheratscomestreamingback.Allthegroundlost.Alltherightswithdrawn.”
“Thewomen,thegirls…”
“Whobelievedtheyweresafetogetaneducationandajob?”saidWhitehead.“Willbepunished.Butthere’smore.”
BetsywasbeginningtohateJohnDonne.
“Goon.”
“TheTalibanwillneedsupport.Alliesintheregion.AndwhobetterthanthePakistanis,who’ddojustaboutanythingtokeepAfghanistanfromturningtoIndiaforsupport.”
“ButPakistanisourally.Sowouldn’tthatbeagoodthing?Iknowtherearelotsofmovingpieces,butstill…”
“Pakistanisplayingacomplexgame,”saidGeneralWhitehead.“WherewasOsamabinLadenfound?”
“Pakistan,”saidBetsy.
“NotjustPakistan,notinacaveonsomeremotemountainside.Hewaslivinginamassive,luxuriouscompoundjustoutsidethecityofAbbottabad.Wellinsidetheborder.Youcan’ttellmethePakistanisdidn’tknowhewasthere.
“I’vebeentryingtoseetheconnectivetissuebetweenthesemovingparts,”saidWhitehead.“Onlyonethingmakessense.Dunnwasconvincedthat,politically,itwasawintopullthetroopsoutofAfghanistan—”
“Yes.Wewerealltiredofthatwar.”
“Agreed.He’sastuteenoughnottowanttoseeAfghanistandescendintochaos.Itwouldn’tlookgoodifallthegains,allthesacrifices,wereseentohavebeenfornothing.Sowhatdoeshedo?”
Betsyconsidered,thensmiled,butwithoutamusement.“HeapproachesPakistan.”
“Ortheyquietlyapproachhim.TheypromisetokeepAfghanistanundercontrol,buttheywantsomethinginreturn.Somethingtrulyterrifying.”
“Ah,thankGod.Trulyterrifying.Unlikewhatyou’vealreadysaid.OK,whatdidtheywant?”
GeneralWhiteheadwasstaringather,willinghertoseewhathesaw.
“BashirShah,”shesaid.“Theyreleasedthedogofwar.”
“He’sthelinchpinaroundwhichallthisrevolves.PakistanwouldsavetheDunnadministrationfrommakingapoliticalblunder.EveniftheTalibanreturns,itwouldkeeptheterroristorganizationsundercontrol.Inreturn,PakistanwantedtheUStoacceptthereleaseofBashirShah.”
“AndDunndidn’tknoworcarewhoShahwas,”saidBetsy.“Allhesawandcaredaboutwasgettingreelected.”
“Andwhenhedidn’t—”
“Thosebehindthispanicked,”shesaid.“Arepanicking.Theyneedtogethimbackin.”
TheChairoftheJointChiefsnodded.Helookedsolemn,sad,ashestudiedthemiddle-agedschoolteacherwholookedlikea1950shousewife.
Loweringhisvoice,hesaid,“Youneedtostopyourinvestigation.Theseareunpleasantpeopledoingunpleasantthings.”
“I’mnotachild,GeneralWhitehead.NoneedtotalktomeasthoughIamone.”
Hesmiledslightly.“I’msorry.You’reright.I’mjustnotusedtotalkingtociviliansaboutthis.Toanyone,forthatmatter.”
Withoutmovinghishead,hiseyesshiftedtothebararea,whereamanwhowasvaguelyfamiliartoBetsyhadtakenaseatandwasbeginningtocauseacommotion,aspeoplemovedawayfromhim.
Whitehead’sgazereturnedtoher,andheloweredhisvoiceevenfurther.“Thesepeoplearekillers.”
“Yes.Igotthatmuch.”Betsysaw,again,thedevastationonthequietFrankfurtstreet.“Justsayit.What’sthenightmare?”
“BashirShahwasreleasedknowinghecouldsellnuclearexpertiseandmaterialstoothercountries.HehaspowerfulalliesinsidethePakistanigovernment,themilitary.They’dallgetrich.But—”
“Letmeguess.There’smore.”
“TherealnightmareisthatBashirShahwillsellnuclearweaponstoterrorists.”
Thatbaldstatementsatontheworntablebetweenthem.Atablethathadheardmanysecrets,manyplots,manyterriblethings.Butnonesoterribleasthis.
“Canyouimagine,”hesaidquietly.“Aterroristorganization,Al-Qaeda,ISIS,withnuclearbombs?That’sthenightmare.”
“That’swhatthis’sabout?”Betsy’svoicewasbarelyaudible.“Thephysicists?Thebusbombings?”Shestudiedhimforamoment.“AndTimBeecham’sapartofit?”
“Idon’tknow.AllIknowisthathewasinvolvedinallthosedecisionsthatappearunrelatedbutare,infact,interlocked.TowithdrawtheUSfromtheIrannuclearaccord,totakethetroopsoutofAfghanistanwithoutaplanandthereforeensureterroristsgetbackinonthecoattailsoftheTaliban,andtoreleaseShah.Isuspectthat’swhyyoucan’tfindanythingonBeecham.Therearedocuments,emails,messages,notestakeninmeetings,provingthis.Allneededtobehidden.”
“SoitgoesdeeperthanjustBeecham?”
“Much.Itwouldhaveto.IsuspectTimBeecham,ifheisinvolved,isapuppet.Atool.Therearefarmorepowerfulpeoplebehindthis.”
“Who?”
“Idon’tknow.”
Thistimeshebelievedhim.Buttherewasmore.Shecouldtell.BetsyJamesonremainedquiet,foraneternity,untilGeneralWhite-headcouldfinallysayit.
“Myfearisthatthosephysicistswerekillednotatthebeginningofajob,butattheend.”
“Ohdear.”
CHAPTER19
ThedoortothehomeinBadK?tztingwasopenacrack.
Evenbeforeheentered,ScottCargillknewwhathe’dfind.Theacridsmellofautomaticweaponsdischargeseepedoutthedoorandbroughtwithitsomethingelseunmistakable.Theslightlymetallicscentofblood.
Hisgungraspedfirmlyinhishand,hesignaledhisnumbertwotogoaroundback.Thenheenteredquietly,carefully.
Inthehallwayhefoundthebodiesofthewoman.Andchild.
Steppingcarefullyaroundthem,helookedintothefrontroom.
Empty.
Downthedarkhallagain,heenteredthekitchen.Andtherehefoundthebodyofanolderwoman.Herpolice-issuegunstillinherhand.Hereyesopenwide.Glazed.
Hestoodperfectlystill.Listening.
Thishadhappenedrecently.
Werethegunmenstillinthehome?Hedidn’tthinkso.
AndAramWani?Thebomber?Hadtheykilledhimtoo?
Cargillclimbedthestairs,hisgunattheready.Goinginandoutofthesmallbedrooms.Thescentofviolencehadn’tmadeitupthere.Allhecouldsmellwasbabylotion.
Returningdownthestairs,hesawashadowfallacrossthethresholdoftheopenfrontdoor.
Hestopped.
Itstopped.
Cargillheardasmallnoise.Asob.
Heboundeddownthestairsandlandedatthebottomintimetoseethebackofayoungman,fleeing.
Heranoutthedoorafterhim,shoutingtohissecond-in-command.Notsureifsheheard.
AramWaniran.Heranknowinghislifedependedonit.Evenasheknewhenolongercaredifhelivedordied.
Therunningwasinstinct.Nothingmore.Andyetheranaway,fromdeath.Fromthemanwiththegun.Themanwho’dmurderedhiswifeandchild.
AramWaniran.
ScottCargillgavechase.Runningwithallhismight.AstheCIAStationChiefforGermany,hehadn’tactuallyhadtoruninawhile.
Butnowhedid.Hiskneesthrustingforward,hisfeetpoundingonthecobblestones.Hislungsgaspinginthecoldair.
Heran.
Waniskiddedaroundacorner.
Cargillsloweddownveryslightly,toavoidfallingasheturned.AndtriedtoworkoutifhecouldshootWaniwithoutactuallykillinghim.Justtostophim.Tobringhimin.Sotheycouldquestionhim.Findoutaboutthenetworkthathadorganizedtheattacks.
And,maybe,whatthiswasallabout.
Asheturnedthecorner,heslidtoastop.
“Oh,shit.”
Anahita’sparentswerearrestedandtakenintocustody.Butastheywerebeingledaway,Ellenstoppedthem.
“Justonemorequestion,Mr.Dahir.What’stheSecretary’sDilemma?”
“It’samathematicalproblem,MadameSecretary.”
“Whatsortofproblem?”ShesatinFrankfurtandlookedathimonthemonitor.
“It’saboutwhentostop,”saidIrfan.
“Stopwhat?”
“Stoplookingforahouse,aspouse,ajob.Asecretary,”hesaid.“Knowingwhenyou’vefoundtherightone.Thebestone.Ordoyoualwaysquestionifabetteroneisoutthere?Aslongasyou’redoingthat,noprogressispossible.Adecisionmustbemade,evenifit’simperfect.WhenIwasinTehran,duringtherevolution,Isawtoomuch.Toomanythingsthatdidn’tlineupwithallI’dbeentaughtaboutIslam.ButatwhatstagedoIleave?Iranwasmyhome.Allmyfamilyandfriendswerethere.IlovedIran.Sohowfaristoofar?WhendoImakethatcommitmenttoleave,knowingtherewasnogoingback?”
“Andwhendidyou?”askedEllen.
“WhenIsawthatthenewregimewasasbad,ifnotworse,astheold.AndifIstayed,Iwouldbetoo.”
Outofthecornerofhereye,shesawTimBeechamshift,asthoughanxiousforthisconversationtoend.
“There’sactuallyanequationforthat?”sheaskedDahir.
“Yes.Thoughaswithmanythings,wecandothesums,andthosemightbehelpful,butfinallyitcomesdowntoinstinct.”Hepaused,andhisdark,sadeyesheldhers.“Andcourage,MadameSecretary.”
TheSecretary’sDilemma,thoughtEllen.
Sheunderstood.
WhentheDahirshadbeenledawayandthescreenshadgoneblank,AnahitaturnedtoEllen.
“They’vedonenothingwrong.Yes,helied,decadesago.He’sbeenaproudAmerican,amodelcitizen,eversince.Youknowtheyhadnothingtodowithwhat’shappening.”
“Iknownosuchthing,”saidEllen.“WhatIdoknowisthatsomeoneinyouruncle’shouseholdsentyouamessage.Someoneknowswhoyouare,evenifyoudon’tknowthem.”
Anahita’sbrowcleared.“Youbelieveme,then.Andyoubelievethem.”
“Iwouldn’tgothatfar.ButyousavedGil’slife.Youtriedtosavetheothers.Idon’tthinkyou’reinvolved,butasforyourparents…”Shewonderedwhethertosaytherest,butdecidedshemightaswell.“Gilcaresforyou.Hetrustsyou,andhedoesn’ttrusteasily.”
“Hecaresforme?Hesaidthat?”
“Idon’tthinkthat’stheledehere,doyou?”
AssheleftthebunkerroomintheFrankfurtconsulate,SecretaryAdamsthoughtaboutGil.He’dbeensoangryatherforaskingabouttheinformant.Soadamantaboutnottellingher.Sodeterminedtoprotectthatinformant.
Andthenhiswhispered“Theremightbeanotherway…”JustbeforeaskingifAnahitawasthere.
Ellenhadassumedheaskedbecausehehadfeelingsfortheyoungwoman.Butnowshewondered.
Wasitpossiblethattheinformantwasthepetite,slenderwomanwalkingslightlybehindher,whosmelledofroseandprotestedherinnocence?Andignorance?Butwhosefamilywasinituptotheirnecks?Andperhapsevenovertheirheads?
Anurgentmessage,flaggedred,appearedonherphone.
ScottCargill.Finally.
Ellenopeneditandsawitwasn’tfromCargillbutfromTimBeecham.
JustheardfromassetsinTehran.Thereisadaughter.ZaharaAhmadi.23.Student.Physics.
EllenturnedtoBoynton,whoshe’dforgotten,yetagain,wasthere.
“GetthePresidentonasecureline.”ThenshetypedtoBeecham,Isshetheone?
Webelieveso.She’sapparentlylesshard-line.
Believe,orknow?
Can’tknowforsurewithoutbringingherin.
No,don’t.Donothing.Ihaveanotheridea.EllenturnedtoAnahita.“Youneedtogetamessagetoyourcousin.”
“Ihaveacousin?”
“Yes.”
“Acousin?”saidAnahita.
“Focus.Youneedtocontacther.”
ThatgotAnahita’sattention.“Me?How?IhadnoideaIhadacousinuntilyoujusttoldme.”
Ellenletthatride.“Ifshecouldgetamessagetoyou,youcangetonetoher.Cargillwillhelp.”Thensherememberedhe’dlefttogetthebombingsuspect
“WehavetheIPaddressforthesenderinTehran,MadameSecretary,”saidBoynton.“Wecanusethat.”
Ellenconsidered.“No.ThatcomputerisprobablymonitoredbytheIranians.”Shestoppedherself.Ifthatwastrue,theIranianauthoritieswouldsoonfindoutaboutthemessagetotheUSStateDepartment.They’dthinkitwastheunclewhosentit.Atleastatfirst.Andhemightprotecthisdaughter.Atleastatfirst.
TheyhadtogetamessagetothisZaharaAhmadi,fast.
“ThePresidentwilljoinyouinthreeminutes,”saidBoynton.
“Thankyou.TakeMs.DahiruptoCargill’ssection,”EllentoldBoynton.“They’reworkingongettingthroughtothecousin.Iwanttohearotheroptionsintenminutes.”
Theywerebackupstairsnow.Wheretherewassunshineandaniceviewofthegraveyard.
Shecheckedherphoneagain.StillnomessagefromBadK?tzting.
“BitmessierthanIwouldhavewanted,”saidthemanbythepool.Hewasinhisfifties,slenderandfit,andhe’dmadeapointofgettingevenfitterwhileunderhousearrest.“Butatleastthejobisdone.”
“Yes,sir.Anditmightevenbetoouradvantage,”suggestedtheaidewho’dbroughthimthenews.
“Andhowisthat?”BashirShahasked.
“Itwillgettheirattention.”
“Ithinkwealreadyhavetheirattention,don’tyou?”Hemotionedtheaidetositdownsoheneedn’tshieldhiseyesfromtheglaringsunashespoke.“ThereweretwofailuresthatIdon’twantrepeated.”
ThoughShah’svoicewascordial,theaide,alreadyterrifiedofbringingthenewsaboutthesuicidebomberwhodidnotactuallycommitsuicide,felthimselfturningtostone.Hisbodywasrigid.Prepared.Hisboss’sbodywastight,coiled,likeapredatorpreparingtoleap.
“Doyouknowwhatthosefailuresare?”Shahasked.
“Thebomberescaped,thoughwe’ve—”
Shahraisedhishand.“And?”
“Andthesonwasn’tkilled.”
“Yes.Thesonescaped.AlotofeffortwentintomakingsureGilBaharwasonthatbus.Howisithegotoff?”
“Thatwastheotherthing,sir.Ourinformantsentavideo.”
Shahwatchedthevideotakenfrominsidethenumber119businFrankfurt.Whenitwasover,Shahturnedtotheaide.
“Hehadaphonecall.Hewaswarned.Whocalled?”
“Hismother.”
Shahtookadeepbreath.Itwasboththeanswerheexpectedandtheoneheleastwanted.
“AndhowdidtheSecretaryofStatecometoknowaboutthebomb?”Nowhisvoicewashard.Angerlickingatthewords.“Whowarnedher?”
Theaidelookedaround,buttheothershadtakenastepback.
“Idon’tknow,sir.WethinkitwassomeonewithintheStateDepartment.Aforeignserviceofficer.”
“Andhowdidthatpersonfindout?”
Nowtheaidelookedupset.“We’llknowsoon,sir.Thereis”—heclosedhiseyesandsaidashortprayer—“oneotherthing.”
“Goon.”
“Theyknowaboutyou.”
“EllenAdamsknowsthosenuclearphysicistswereworkingforme?”
“Yes,sir.”Hewonderedhowitwouldhappen.Shot?Stabbed?Orjustthrownintotheswampforthealligators?DearGod,notthat.
Butinsteadhesawhisbosssmile.Andnod.
BashirShahgotup.“Ihavedrinksattheclubandneedtochange.IwantanswersbythetimeIreturn.”
TheaidewatchedDr.ShahwalkaroundthepoolandintothelargehomehewasborrowingfromaclosefriendinPalmBeach.
TheAmericanConsulGeneralinFrankfurthadlentSecretaryAdamshisoffice.
Shesatathisdesk.ThePresidentoftheUnitedStates’unhappyfacewasonthesecurephoneinherhand.Itfelt,foragiddymoment,asthoughsheheldhiminthepalmofherhand.
Ifonly…
AndthenthemomentpassedasTimBeecham’sevenlesshappyfaceappearedontheotherhalfofthesplitscreen,lookingsquishedupagainstthePresident’s.
ThoughEllenwassurprisedhe’dbeeninvitedtojointhecall,shechosenottoshowit,orquestion.Therewasnothingshecoulddoaboutitnowanyway.Butshe’dhavetostepcarefully.Choosewhattosay.Whatnottosay.
“OK,”saidPresidentWilliams.“What’swrongnow?”
“Nothing,Mr.President,”saidEllen.“Infact,we’vemadegoodprogress.”
Shebroughthimuptospeed,carefultotellthePresidentonlywhatBeechamalreadyknew.
“So,youthinkthisZaharaAhmadiisbehindthewarnings,”saidWilliams.“Whatdoweknowabouther,Beecham?”
“Ijustreceivedareportonher.She’sstudyingphysicsattheUniversityofTehran.”
“Likeherfather,”saidthePresident.
“Notcompletely.Herfieldisstatisticalmechanics.”
“That’sprobabilitytheory,right?”saidWilliams.
Itwasagoodthing,Ellenthought,thatshe’dtrainedherselfnottoshowsurprisebecauseotherwiseshe’dhavefallenoffherchair.
ItseemedDougWilliamsmightbebrighterthanshe’dthought.
“Yes,Mr.President.Butwhat’sinterestingisthatshebelongstoastudentorganizationthat’sprogressive.Pushingformoreopenness.ForconnectionswiththeWest.Theonlyredflagisthatsheseemsquitereligious.”
“I’mquitereligious,”saidPresidentWilliams.“Isthatacauseforsuspicion?”
“InIranitis,sir.”
“Doesshebelongtoamosque?”Ellenasked.
“Shedoes.”
“Sameoneasherfather?”sheasked.
“No.Hersisattachedtotheuniversity.We’recheckingontheclerictoseeifhe’sradical.”
“What’reyouthinking,Ellen?”PresidentWilliamsasked.
“We’renowprettysureIranwasbehindtheattacks,Mr.President.Thatalwaysmadethemostsense.TheysawthePakistaniphysicistsasthreats.Now,ifZaharaAhmadiistheonewhosentthemessagetomyFSO,thenshewantedtostopthebombings.Astowhy?Ican’tsayuntilwespeaktoher.Wehavepeopletryingtoworkouthowtogetamessagetoher.”
ShehadtoadmitthismuchinfrontofBeecham.Itwashisdepartment,afterall,thatwasworkingonitandhe’dbeenpartofthatdecision.
ThefactthatheknewaboutZaharaandtheeffortstocontactherwas,attheveryleast,problematic.ButtherewasnothingEllencoulddoaboutitnow.
“Howdidshefindoutaboutthebombings?”askedthePresident,thenpaused.“Herfather?Thephysicist?”
“Wethinkit’spossible,Mr.President,”saidBeecham.
“Tim,areyousayingherfathertoldher?”askedWilliams.“Thathealsowanteditstopped?”
“No.Dr.Ahmadi’sahard-liner,asupporteroftheregime.Butshemight’veoverheardsomething,orseensomethingamonghispapers.”
“We’respeculating.Nothelpful.Howcanwebesureofanyofthis?”askedPresidentWilliams,leaningforwardsothathisfacewasdistorted.“Ellen?”
“I’vebeentryingtoestablisharelationshipwiththeIranianForeignMinistersincewetookoffice.There’salotofdamagedone,buthe’saneducated,culturedmanwhoseemstoseetheadvantageofanententebetweenus.”
“Theymurderedinnocentpeopleonthosebuses,”saidPresidentWilliams.“Nottheactofaculturedmanlookingforpeace.”
“No,”Ellenagreed.“Thethingis,ifwe’vefiguredoutwherethewarningcamefrom,IsuspecttheIraniansaren’tfarbehind.It’spossibleherfatherwillprotectZaharaforawhile,butmaybenot.Ifshe’spickedup…”
“Soweneedtogettoherfirst,”saidWilliams.“How?”
“IftheFSO,hercousin,cangetashortmessagetomypeopleontheground,”saidBeecham,“theymightbeabletoapproachher.Slipittoher.Letherknowweareawareandwillprotecther.”
“Buthowcanwepromisethat?”askedWilliams.“Wecan’texactlykidnapher.Canwe?”
Heactuallylookedhopeful.
“Ihaveanotheridea,”saidEllen.Shehadn’twantedtosaythisinfrontoftheDirectorofNationalIntelligencebutfeltshehadnochoicenow.Thingsweremovingtooquickly.“IwanttogotoTehran.”
DougWilliamsopenedhismouth,thenshutitagain,beforesaying,“Excuseme?”
“Tehran.AirForceThreeisready.TheplanwastoflytoPakistan,butwecanchangetheflightplanenroute.FlycovertlytoTehran.”
“InhonkinggreatAirForceThree?”demandedWilliams.“Don’tyouthinksomeonemightnotice?”
Beecham,thoughsilent,lookedlikehiseyeswereabouttopopoutofhishead.
“Yes.Butwecanbeinandoutbeforethepressfindsout.There’snotexactlyfreedomofinformationinIran.ImightevenbeabletobringZaharaAhmadioutwithme.”
“Really,WileE.Coyote.That’syourplan?”saidWilliams.“Supposetheydon’tletyouout?ThoughthatwouldbeonewaytogetridofmynowlunaticSecretaryofState.”
“Toomanyvariables,”saidBeecham.“Theymightnotwanttokeepher.”
“Whowouldblamethem?Andiftheydid,someoneheremightnoticeshewasmissing.Wouldtakeawhile,buteventually—”
“OK,”saidEllen.“Igetthepoint.ButIthinkIshouldmeetwiththeIranianForeignMinisterface-to-faceanddiscussthis.Itwouldestablisharapport,ifnotatrust.AnditmighthelpdistractthemlongenoughtogetthatmessagetoZaharaAhmadi.Sofartheydon’tseemtorealizeanyonetriedtostoptheattacks.”
“Tim?”askedPresidentWilliams.
TheDNIshookhishead.“IfSecretaryAdamsdoesthat,thentheIranianswillknowthatweknowthey’rebehindtheattacks.It’sneveragoodideatolettheminonhowmuchintelwehave.Ordon’thave.”
“IftheIranianskilledthosephysicists,thatmeanstheymightknowwhat’sgoingon,”saidEllen.“WhatShahhasplanned.Maybe,even,whereheis.”SheheldPresidentWilliams’seyes.“Isn’titworththerisk?”
Hegaveacurtnod.“Doit.ButnotTehran.MeetinOman.It’saneutralcountry.I’llcalltheSultanandletyouknowifheagrees.Tim,youandEllenworktogethertogetamessagetothedaughter.”
“Sir,Idon’t—”Beechambegan.
“Enough,”snappedWilliams.“Icanseeyoudon’tlikeeachother,butunfortunatelyforyou,youtwodoseemtogetresults.LikeLennonandMcCartney.So,youwillcontinue.Workitout.IwantanAbbeyRoadbytheendoftheday.GoodluckinOman,Ellen.AndletmeknowassoonasyourpeoplehavepickedupthebomberinGermany.”
“Iwill,sir,”saidEllen.
Hisscreenwentblank.LeavingEllenAdamsandTimBeechamtoglareateachother.
“IgettobeMcCartney,”shesaid.
“Fine.Lennonwasthebettermusiciananyway.”
Ellenwasabouttoarguethepointbutrealizedthereweremoreimportantissues
“Iguesswe’dbettercometogether,rightnow,”shesaid,andsawathinsmile.
“Hejustdowhatheplease,”shehummedtoherself.
EllendecidedtogodowntoCargill’ssectiontogetanupdate,butassoonasshearrived,shesawsomethingwaswrong.
Theroom,normallyahiveofactivity,wassilent.Noonemovedexcepttoturnshockedfacestoher.
“What?”sheasked.“What’shappened?”
Asenioranalyststeppedforward.“They’redead,MadameSecretary.”
Ellenfeltherselfgrowcoldandstill.“Who?”
Thoughsheknewtheanswer.
ScottCargill.Hissecond-in-command.AndAramWani.
AllthreegunneddowninabackalleyinBadK?tzting.
CHAPTER20
Betsyansweredonthefirstring.
“Howgoesit?”
“Notsogood,”saidEllen.
Shesoundedexhausted.Andnotsurprising.Itwasaftersixp.m.inDC,whichmadeitaftermidnightinFrankfurt.
Evenmorethanexhausted,Ellensoundeddispirited.
“Tellme,”saidBetsy.
ShesatuponthecouchEllenhadinheroffice.She’dbeentryingtocatchanapbeforetacklingTimothyT.Beechamagain.Shewishedshehadsomenews,anynews,forEllen.
Listeningtoherfriend’svoice,drainedofmostofitsvigor,Betsydecidednottotellheraboutthemanwho’dbeenfollowingher.Besides,GeneralWhiteheadhadtakencareofhim.AndEllenmight’veforgottenthatbriefexchangethatendedwithWhatbodyguard?
“First,tellmeaboutthatbodyguardthing,”saidEllen,andBetsysmiled.
Ofcourseshewouldn’tforget.
“Itwasajoke.Therewasthishandsomeyoungguytryingtopickmeup.Atleast,I’mprettysurehewas.Hecouldn’thavebeentryingtocatchtheeyeofthebeautifulyoungwomanbesidemeontheflight.”
“Ofcoursenot.”Ellengaveashortimitationofalaugh.“Didyouhaveyourwaywithhim?”
“Sadly,mywayisnowawholecheesecakeandabottleofChardonnay.”
“OhGod,thatsoundsgood,”saidEllen.
“IdidmeetwithGeneralWhitehead.Hehadsomethoughtsonwhat’shappening.Andgoingtohappen.”
“Tellme.”
AndBetsydid.“HethinksthePakistanis,supportedbytheRussians,convincedDunntoagreetothereleaseofShahaspartofadeal.”
“Whatdeal?”Ellen’svoicewasfilledwithapprehension.
“DunnwouldpullourtroopsoutofAfghanistanwithnoconditionsfromtheAfghans,andPakistanwouldensurestabilitythere.Inexchange,thePakistanisdemandedtheUSagreetothereleaseofthemostdangerousarmsdealerintheworld.AndDunnwastoodensetoknowwhathewasagreeingtoo.”
Toodense,Ellenthought,ormyopic.Onlyseeingapprovalratings.Ordollarsigns.
“AndBeecham?”sheasked.
“Wasinvolvedinbothdecisions,”saidBetsy.
“TheIagowhisperinginOthello’sear.”
“IprefertoseehimasLadyMacbeth,”saidBetsy.
“Proof?”
“Nonesofar.There’smore.”ForIhavemore,thoughtBetsy.“GeneralWhiteheadthinksBeechamisn’talone.Thatthere’saplotbypeoplewhoconsiderthemselvespatriotstobringdownagovernmenttheyconsiderillegitimateandinstallDunn.Becausehe’lldowhattheywant.”
UnseenbyBetsy,theSecretaryofStatewasnodding.Thefactthatthiswasn’tacompleteshockwas,initself,shocking.
EllenwasaloneinherhotelroominFrankfurt.Itwascomingupononeinthemorning,andshewastootired,toowired,tosleep.Thoughshewasdesperateto.
ShewaswaitingforamessagetotellhertheOmantripwason.ThenshecouldcontactherIraniancounterpart.She’dalreadysentoutsmall,privatefeelers.
IfIranhadarrangedforthebusbombsandthebombers,thenthey’dalsoarrangedforthemurderofAramWaniinBadK?tzting.Andwithhim,ScottCargillandhissecond-in-command.
Yes,SecretaryAdamswasanxioustohaveawordortwowiththeIranians.
“Ineedtoknowwhototrust,”saidEllen.“Andwhonotto.Ineedproof.”
Betsyheardfearinthatfamiliarvoice.
“Youbecareful,ElizabethAnneJameson,”saidEllen.
“Noworries.BertWhitehead’ssentaRangertowatchoverme.Ihaven’tcalledheryet.”
“Please,promisemeyouwill.”
“Ipromise.Nowit’syourturn.Tellmewhat’shappened.”
AndEllenAdamsdid.Shetoldherbestfriend,hercounselor,everything.Andwhenshe’dfinished,Betsysaid,“I’msosorry.ItwastheIranianswhokilledScottCargillandhisnumbertwo.”
“Andthebomber.Ithinkso.I’mheadingtoOman,tomeetwiththeIranianForeignMinister.”
“Areyouinsane?”demandedBetsy,sittingupstraightnow.“Youcan’tdothat.Theymightkillyou.Orevenkidnapyou.”
Unexpectedly,therewasalaughdowntheline.“DougWilliamsdidsuggestthatwhenheokayedthetrip.”
“Asshole.”
“No,itwasajoke.I’llbefine.TheIraniansaren’texactlyourfriends,buttheyaresmart.There’snoadvantageinhurtingorkidnappingme.IinitiallysuggestedTehran—”
“ForGod’ssake—”
“SothatTimBeechamwouldknowI’mtheidiothethinksIam,”saidEllen.“IalsoknewifIfirstsuggestedOman,Williamswouldturnitdown.”
“Waitaminute.Youplayedthatsamemindgameaboutmyfirsthusband.Isthathow…”
“No.Hewasnevermyidea.”
“IwishIwasgoingwithyou.”
“SodoI.”
“Whois?”
“BesidesBoyntonandDiplomaticSecurity,I’vedecidedtobringKatherineandAnahitaDahir,theFSO.ShespeaksFarsi.It’llbehelpfultohavesomeonewhoknowswhattheForeignMinisterisreallysaying.”
“Canyoutrustherafterwhatyoufoundoutaboutherfamily?”
Therewasapause.“No.Notcompletely.That’sanotherreasonIwantherclose.Wehaveputhertogooduse,though.TheCIAhasfiguredouthowtogetamessagetoZaharaAhmadi,andweneedAnahitaforthat.Hercousinwon’ttrustanAmericanoperative,butshemighttrustAnahita.TheIraniansprobablymonitorcommunicationsfromDr.Ahmadi’scomputer.WeneedtogettoZaharabeforetheIraniansecretpolice.”
“Areyousureshe’stheonewhosentthemessage?”
“No,butit’sthemostlikelyanswer.”Ellenbreathedalongsigh.“I’veapprovedtheoperation.They’llapproachZaharaAhmadiassoonassheleaveshomeforclasses.”
Betsyhadlongknownthatwhileshehadbravado,Ellenwasthebraveone.Shewasgladshedidn’thavetomakedecisionslikethis.
“BeforeIhangup,how’sGil?”
“Icalledthehospitalafewminutesago.He’ssleeping,andthedoctorondutysaidhe’smuchbetter.I’lldropinonmywaytotheairport.”
“Stillnowordonhisinformant?”
“No,none.”
There’dbeenapause.Betsydidn’tknowifEllenhadhesitatedonpurpose,orifitwasfatigue.Shedecidednottoask.Thesoonershegotofftheline,thesoonerherfriendcouldgetsomesleep.
“Becareful,EllenSueAdams.”
ItcametoBetsywithastartanhourlater,wakingheroutofhernap.
Whoshe’dseeninthebasementbaroftheHay-Adamshotel.TheonetheGeneralhadalsoseen.Theonemakingthecommotion.
Shehadn’tseenhiminyears.He’dlookedyoungerthen.Almostdewy.
Butthatafternoon,atOfftheRecord,hewasalmostunrecognizable.Infact,thoughtBetsyassheleaptoffthecouchandintotheshower,he’dlookedalotlikeachainsaw.
ThecallcameatclosetothreeinthemorninginFrankfurt,wakingEllenoutofafitfulsleep.
TheOmantripwason.
Ellensprangoutofbed,andwithintwohoursshehadacommitmentfromtheIranianForeignMinistertomeetattheSultan’sofficialresidenceinOldMuscat.
“Icangiveyouanhour,MadameSecretary,”he’dsaid.HespokebeautifulEnglish,thoughheoftenpreferredtogothroughaninterpreter.
Thistime,though,theyspokedirectly.Simpler.Easier.Andmorediscreet.
AftercallingCharlesBoynton,andhavinghimcallAnahitaDahir,shewokeupKatherine.
“We’regoingtoOman,”shesaid.“Wearmodestdress.”
“Right.I’llleavemyleatherchapsbehind.”
Hermotherlaughed.“Planeleavesinfortyminutes.Carsleaveintwenty.”
“Gotit.Anahita?”Katherineasked.
Itseemedthetwoyoungwomenhadforgedafriendship.Ellendidn’tknowifshewashappyaboutthatornot.
“Iscomingwithus.”
Sureenough,twentyminuteslaterthearmoredvehiclesleftfortheairport.
“Canyoupleasestopatthehospitalfirst?”askedEllen.
WithinminutesshewasstandingbyGil’sbed.Hewasasleep,hisbruisedfaceatpeace.“Gil?”shewhispered.Shehatedtodoit,buttherewassomuchaboutallthisEllenAdamshated,thiswasjustonemoretoaddtothelist.“Gil?”
Hestirredandopenedpuffyeyes.“Whattimeisit?”
“Justafterfourinthemorning.”
“What’reyoudoinghere?”Hestruggledtositup,andshehelped,placingapillowbehindhisback.
“I’monmywaytoOmantospeaktotheIranianForeignMinister.TheIranianswerebehindthebombings.”
Gilnodded.“Thatmakessense.Theywouldn’twantShahtosellnuclearsecrets,orscientists,toanyoneelseintheregion.”
“Yourinformant—”
“Itoldyou,I’mnotgoing—”
Sheheldupherhandtostophim.“Iknow.I’mnotaskingwhoitis.”Shedroppedhervoice.“WhenIwaslasthere,youwereabouttosaysomething.Youtoldmetheremightbeanotherwaytofindoutmorefromyourinformant.MoreaboutShah.”
“Ican’ttellyou,”hewhispered.
“Buthowwillyoudoit?You’reinthehospital.”
“I’veworkeditout.Youdowhatyouneedto,andletmedomything.Iwastheoneblownup.I’mtheonewho’llforeverseetheirfaces.Ihaveastakeinthistoo.Youhavetotrustme.”
“It’snotthatIdon’ttrustyou.It’sthatIdon’twanttoloseyou.”Shemadeuphermindtosayit.Tosee.“I’mtakingAnahitatoOmanwithme.She’soutsidenow.”
EllenwaitedtoseeGil’sreaction.IfAnahitawashisinformant…
Buttherewasnoreaction.Except,“Sayhifromme,willyou?”
“Iwill.Weshouldbebacklatertoday.I’llstopinthen.”
“Goodluck.”
Twenty-fiveminuteslaterAirForceThreewashurtlingdowntherunwayinthedark,beginningitsseven-hourflighttotheGulfState.
Oncetheywereatcruisingaltitude,Ellenwentintoherofficetoprepare.Thereshefoundalovelyarrangementofflowers.Herfavorite.Sweetpea.Delicateandfragrant.
Bendingovertosmellthem,Ellennoticedanote.
“Didyouorderthese?”sheaskedherChiefofStaffasBoyntoncameinwithastewardwhohadcoffeeandalightbreakfast.
Boyntonputdownthefileshewascarryingandlookedatthebouquet.“No.Butthey’renice.ProbablyfromtheAmericanAmbassador.”
“Iwonderhowsheknewthesearemyfavorite.”
“She’sverythorough,”saidBoynton,whohadnotknownhisbosshadafavoriteflower.Butthen,he’dbeenabitbusyfindingoutotherthingsaboutthenewSecretaryofState.“Must’vedoneherresearch.”
“Thankyou,”Ellensaidtothesteward,who’dpouredheralargeblackcoffee,thenleft.
Openingthenote,shefeltthecoffeecupbegintoslipoffherfinger.Shestoppeditjustintime,butnotbeforeasmalldroplandedon,andscalded,herthigh.
“Whatisit?”askedBoynton,walkingover.
“Whosenttheseflowers?”sheasked,hervoicenowbrusque.
“Itoldyou,MadameSecretary,”hesaid.“Idon’tknow.”Heseemedgenuinelyperplexedbyherreaction.“What’swrong?”
“Findout,please.”
“Iwill.”
HehurriedfromtheroomasEllenplacedthenoteonherdesk.Carefulnottohandleitmorethanshealreadyhad.
Itwasascanofthenoteshe’dpassedtoBetsy,beforeherfriendandcounselorhadflownbacktoDC.ItwastheoneaskinghertolookintoTimBeecham.Andtonot,whateverhappened,letanyoneelseseeit.
Andyethereitwas.OnitswaytoOman,onboardAirForceThree,shovedintoabouquetofsweetpeas,whichnolongerseemedsolovely.
Therewasnootherwritingonit.Andnosignature.Butsheknewwhowasbehindit.Whowasbehindallthoseunsignednotesovertheyears.Thebirthdaycards.Christmascards.ThemessagesentafterQuinndied.
ShepickedupthesecurelineandcalledBetsy,herheartpoundinginherthroat
CHAPTER21
Thebarwaspackednow.
Itwasjustaftertenintheevening,andDChadcomeouttoplay.
Betsylookedaround,hereyesadjustingtothedimlight.Shemadestraightforthebaritself,whereshe’dlastseenPeteHamilton.Hewasnolongerthere,thoughshewastemptedtolookunderit,sincethatseemedtobewherehewasheaded.
“WhatcanIgetyou?”thebartenderasked.
AvatofChardonnay,thoughtEllenAdams’sbestfriend.
“Adietgingerale,please,”saidtheSecState’scounselor.“Withamaraschinocherryifpossible,”Betsyadded.
Whileshewaited,shefeltherphonevibrate.
“Whatareyoudoingup?Itmustbe—”sheaskedbeforebeingcutoff.
“Asimilewalksintoabar,”saidEllen,hervoicestrained.
“What?Asamatteroffact,Ihavejustwalkedintoabar.”
“Betsy,asimilewalksintoabar!”
Betsy’smindfrozeforamoment…simile.Simile.
“Asparchedasadesert.Ellen”—shedroppedhervoice—“what’sthisabout?Whereareyou?What’sthatnoise?”
“You’reallright?”
“Yes.I’minOfftheRecord.Didyouknowtheyalreadyhaveacoasterwithyourcaricatureonit?”
“Listen,Betsy,thatnoteIgaveyoujustbeforeyouleft,whereisit?”
“Inmypocket.”Sheputherhandin.Itwasn’tthere.“Oh,wait.Iremember.ItookitoutandputitonyourdeskwhenIgottoyouroffice.Iwantedtokeepitsafe.”Betsygrewstill.“Why?”
“Becausethere’sacopyofithere.”
“InFrankfurt?How—”
“No.OnAirForceThree.”
“Shit.”Hermindraced,goingbackoverheractionsthatday.“IleftitonyourdeskwhenIwentintoBoynton’sofficetousehiscomputertoresearchBeecham.”
“Didanyonecomein?”
“Yes.BarbStenhauser.Jesus,Ellen.”
DearGod,thoughtEllen.TheDNIwasbadenough,butthePresident’sChiefofStaff?
“Whywouldshetakeit,thenscanittoyou?”
“WhoevertookitsentittoShah.Hehaditplacedinanarrangementofsweetpeasontheplane.”
“TheflowersQuinnusedtosendyou.Asawarning?”
“Asataunt.Hewantsmetoknowhe’sclose.Soclose,hecandoanythinghepleases.Reachmeanywhere.”
“Butthey’dneedsomeoneinFrankfurt,someonewithaccesstoyourplane.Ellen—”
“Iknow.”
Itcouldbeanyone.Amemberofhersecurityteam.Oneofthestewards.Thepiloteven.
Or—Ellenlookedtowardthecloseddoor—herownChiefofStaff.Thenear-invisibleCharlesBoynton.
“MyGod,”saidBetsy.“IfStenhauser…DoesthatmeanWilliams…?”
“No,”saidEllen.“Ithinkhe’smanythings,butnotinleaguewithBashirShah.WhatIdoknowisweneedclarity.Sofarwesuspecteveryone.Thathastostop.”
“Agreed,butwhatdowedo?”
“Again,weneedfacts,proof.Information.Areyousurenooneelsewentintomyoffice?”
“I’msure…”
“Whatisit?”saidEllen.
“Isupposesomeonemight’vegoneintoyourofficewhenIcameheretomeetGeneralWhitehead.ThismeansShahknowsyou’reontoBeecham.”
EllenAdamsfoundherselfgrowingverystill,verycalm.Likemostwomen,unlikethemyth,shewasgoodinacrisis.Andthiswasacrisis.“Whichmeanstimeisshort.Theymustbetryingtodecidewhattodoaboutit.Haveyoufoundanythingyet?”
“No,nothingyet.That’swhyI’mhere.”
“Inthebar?”
“Withadietginger—”
“Andmaraschino?”askedEllen.
“Thebestpart.Listen,Ellen,whenIwasherethisafternoon,IsawPeteHamilton.”
“Dunn’sformerpresssecretary?”
“Yes.”
“Young,idealistic.Kindaendearing,”saidEllen.“HedidagoodjobsellingDunn’slies.”
“Hewassoconvincing,”agreedBetsy.
“Probablybecauseheactuallybelievedwhathewassaying.Thepropogandistishisownfirstcustomer.”
Itwassomethingsheusedtodrumintoanygreenjournalisthiredbyhermediaempire,alongwiththeBuddhistmonkThubtenChodron’sadvice:“Don’tbelieveeverythingyouthink.”
“Hamiltonwasdoingagoodjob,”saidEllen.“ButthenhewasreplacedbyDunn’sson.”
“Thatnumbskull,”saidBetsy.“DidweeverhearwhytheygotridofHamilton?”
“Itwasneverexplained,buttherumorwashehadadrinkingproblem.Couldn’tbetrustedwithstatesecrets.Whydoyouwanttomeethim?”
“BecauseIneedsomeonefrominsidetheDunnadministration.Someonewhocanhelpusfindtheinformationweneed.Everyoneelseisafraidtotalk,butHamiltonmight.”
“Hardtotrustthewordofanembitteredaddict.Butmaybehe’sbetter.”
Betsyrememberedtheloud,belligerentvoice,andthemenandwomenmovingawayfromhim.
“Maybenot,”admittedBetsy.“Idon’tneedsomeonequotable.Ineedsomeonewhocangetustheproofweneed.Besides,I’mnowobsessedwithfindingoutwhattheTin‘TimothyT.Beecham’standsfor.”
“Pleasedon’tcomebackwithonlythat.”
Betsylaughed,andsodidEllen.Afterthedayshe’dhad,shehadn’tthoughtshe’dbeabletolaugh,butBetsycouldalwayslightenherheart.
“Becareful,”Ellensaid.“YousaidGeneralWhiteheadhadaRangercontactyou,right?Callher.IfShah’sreadmynotetoyou,heknowsyou’reontoBeecham.Ifyougetclose…”Ellenpaused.Itdidn’tbearthinkingof.Butshehadto.“Iwouldn’tputitpasthimto…”
“Hurtme?”
“Please,justformypeaceofmind.There’ssolittleofitleft.”
“OK.Iwill.ButIwanttocontactthisPeteHamiltonfirst.Don’tneedsomeArmyRangerscaringhimoff.You’reonyourwaytoOman?”
“Yes.”
“GivemylovetoKatherine.Hopesheleftherleatherchapsbehind.”
Ellenlaughedagain,thenconsidered.She’dthoughtherdaughterhadbeenjoking,butmaybe…
“Oh,andEllen?”
“Yes?”
“Youbecareful.”
Ellenhungupandlookedatthesweetpeas.Sodelicate,suchcheerfulcolors.Suchagentlefragrance.TheyalwaysremindedherofQuinn’skindness.
Shepickedupthebouquetandwasabouttodropitintothegarbagecan,thenstoppedandreplacedthemonherdesk.
Shahwasnotgoingtotakethatfromher.
AnddearGod,don’tlethimtakeBetsy.
“Yeah,thatwashim,”saidthebartenderwhenBetsyasked.“PeteHamilton.Comesinabouteverytwoweeks.Incase.”
“Ofwhat?”
“Incaseanyoneactuallywantstotalktohim.Hirehimmaybe.”
“Doesanyone?”
“No,never.”Thebartendereyedher,thiswomanwholookedliketheBeaver’smother.
“Soheleft?”
“Wasaskedtoleave.Hewasdrunkorhighorsomethingwhenhearrived.Startedharassingsomecustomers,sohewasshownthedoor.”Hestudiedher.“Why’reyoulookingforhim?”
“I’mhisaunt.HisfamilylosttrackofhimafterhelefttheWhiteHouse.Hismother’ssickandIneedtotalktohim.Doyouknowwherehelives?”
“No.Notexactly.SomeplaceinDeanwood,Ithink.Iwouldn’tgotherenow.Notafterdark.”
Betsypaidforherdietgingerandgatheredherthings.“Unfortunately,hismother’sreallysick.Ineedtofindhimfast.”
Thebartendercaughtupwithheratthedoor.“Listen,youshouldn’tjusthangaroundthatneighborhood.”Hegaveheracard.“Heleftthisafewmonthsback,incaseanyoneneededaPRguy.”
Shelookedatthegrubbyslipofpaper,obviouslyprintedoffonhishomecomputer.
“Thankyou.”
“Ifyouseehim,tellhimnottocomebackhere.It’sjustembarrassing.”
Thetaxipulleduptotheaddress.Deanwood,inthenortheastofDC,wastwentyminutesandaworldawayfromtheHay-Adams.AndtheWhiteHouse.
Betsystoodatthedooroftheapartmentbuilding.Therewasnobuzzer,justaholewhereonemighthavebeen.
Shetriedthedoor.Thehandlewasbroken,leavingitunlocked.Whensheentered,Betsywasmetwithasmellshecouldalmostsee.
Urine.Feces.Rottenfoodandsomething,orsomeone,decomposing,shethought.
Upthericketystairssheclimbed,tothetopfloor,andknockedonthedoor.
CHAPTER22
“Fuckoff.”
Betsyheldatissuetoherfaceinanattempttoblockouttheodors.
“Mr.Hamilton?”
Silence.
“PeteHamilton?I,ahhh”—shelookedatthegrubbycardinherhand—“needaPRperson.”
“Atmidnight?Fuckoff.”
“It’sanemergency.”
Silence.Thenthesquealofachaironwood.
“Howdidyoufindme?”Thevoicenowwasjustontheothersideofthedoor.
“IgotyouraddressfromthebartenderatOfftheRecord.Isawyoutheretoday.”
“Whoareyou?”
Ontherideover,Betsyhadwonderedhowshe’danswerthisquestion.
“MynameisElizabethJameson.MyfriendscallmeBetsy.”
Ifshewanted,needed,himtobehonest,sheneededtobe.Nogoodstartingwithalie.
Sheheardone,two,threelocksturnandaboltwithdraw.Andthedoorswungopen.
Betsybracedforanoxiouswave.Ittookheracoupleofbreathstorealizetheplacedidn’tsmell.Or,moreaccurately,itsmelledofaftershave.Thefaintscentofpleasantmasculinity.
Andbaking.Specifically,chocolatechipcookies.
Sheexpectedthemanstandinginfrontofhertobebleary-eyed.Cakedinvomit.Wearingsagging,filthyunderwear.She’dpreparedforthat.Infact,muchofherchildhoodhadpreparedherforthat.
BetsyJamesonhadnotpreparedforthis.
PeteHamiltonstoodinfrontofherclean-shaven,clear-eyed,insweatsthatlookedliketheymight’vebeenironed.Hisdarkhairstillmoistfromashower.
Hewasonlyslightlytallerthanshe,withwhatlookedlikealayerofbabyfat.Notthickbutsoft.Chubby-faced,helookedliketheGerberbabyinatenement.
“You’rethecounselor.”
“Iam.Andyou’retheformerpresssecretary.”
Hesteppedaside.“You’dbettercomein.”
Thedooropenedrightintoasmalllivingroomwhosewallshadbeenpaintedasoothinggray-blue.Thewoodfloorslookedlikethey’dbeensandedandrefinished
Therewasasofa,openedtoabed,andwhatlookedlikeacomfortablearmchair.Atablebythewindowhadanopenlaptopwithpapersbesideit.Alongwithaglassofwaterandacookie.
Inacornerwasakitchenette.
Inthefewsecondsittooktoabsorbthis,sheheardthelocksbeingputbackinplace.
“Whatdoyouwant?”heasked.“NotaPRperson,I’mguessing.”
“Well,yes,IdoneedaPRperson.Morespecifically,Ineedyou.”
Hestaredatherandsmiled.“Letmeguess.Thishassomethingtodowiththebusexplosions.”Hetiltedhishead.“Youdon’tsuspectme,doyou?”
Hegaveherthesamecherubicsmilehe’dusedtosucheffectatthepodium,peddlingDunn’slies.Itwasdisarming,andBetsystruggledtokeepherdefensesup.
Butfacedwiththecherubandthescentofchocolatechipcookies,itwasabattlesheworriedshecouldnotwin.Andthensherememberedthefacesofthefamilies,inFrankfurt,andherdefensesrammedintoplace.
“Ithinkyoucanhelpme,Mr.Hamilton.”
“WhywouldIwantto?”
Shelookedaroundtheapartment,thensettledhereyesonhis.
“YouthinkIhateithereandlongtoescape?”hesaid.“Itmightnotlooklikemuch,butit’shome.Andthisisactuallyacommunity,withbrokenbutdecentpeople.Ifitrightin.”
“Butitwouldbenicetohaveachoice,wouldn’tit?Ithinkthat’swhatyoulongfor.Don’tweall.Youcanchoosetolivehere,butnothaveto.LikeIsaid,IsawyouthisafternoonatOfftheRecord.Youappearedpissedoutofyourmind.Messy,pathetic.”
“YoudoneedaPRperson,”hesaid,andshesmiled.
“Whytheact?”Whenhedidn’tanswer,shewalkedacrosstothetableandlookeddownatthenotesbyhiscomputer.Shegotjustaglimpsebeforehesplayedhishandoverthem.
“Pleaseleave.”
“You’rewritingabook.OnDunn.”
“No.Pleaseleave.Ican’thelpyou.”
Sheheldhisdarkeyes.“Youdon’tfitinhereatall.”
Hesnorted.“YouelitistDemocratsareallthesame.Youpretendtocareforthedowntroddenwhileactuallydespisingthem.”
Sheraisedherbrows.“Youmisunderstandme.Yousaidyourneighborsaredecent.That’swhyyoudon’tfitin.You’reindecent.I’mofferingyouachancetohelpfindoutwho’sresponsibleforthebombings.Maybeevenpreventanother.Andallyoucareaboutisyourbook,yourrevenge.”
“It’snotrevenge,it’sjustice.I’mnotwritingabook.I’mtryingtofindevidence,proof.”
“Ofwhat?”
“Ofwhattheydidtome.Ofwhodidit.”
“MadameSecretary?”CharlesBoyntonstoodjustinsidethecabinofAirForceThree.“They’rereadyinTehran.Theyjustneedyourgo-ahead.WouldyoulikemetocontactMr.Beecham?”
“No,thatwon’tbenecessary.”
“But—”
“Thankyou,Charles.CanyouaskMs.DahirandKatherinetocomein?”
Afterheleft,SecretaryAdamspickedupthesecurephone.
TheagentonthegroundinTehranwasclearlysurprisedtohearthevoiceoftheUSSecretaryofState.
“You’reinplace?”sheasked.
“Yes,MadameSecretary.WecanseetheAhmadihome.Sheshouldbeleavingforclassesattheuniversityanytimenow.”
“You’reconfidentIraniansecurityisn’tontoyou?”
Therewasasoftchucklefromthewomanontheotherend.“Asconfidentaswecaneverbe.Butthat’swhyweneedtomovequickly.Thelongerwewait,themorechancethey’llfindout.”
Ellenpaused,thinkingofScottCargill.Oftheotherintelligenceagent.GunneddownjusthoursagoinBadK?tzting.
Howbravethesepeoplewere,whileshesailedaboveitall,withhotcoffeeandpastriesandthescentofsweetpea.
“Doit.MayAllahblessyou.”
“Inshallah.”
“MayIuseyourwashroom?”Betsyasked.
Whenshereturned,shefoundhiminthekitchenmakingapotoftea,thecookiesonaplateonthecounter.Henoddedtowardthem.
Shedidasshewastold,pickinguptheplateandtakingacookieasshewalkedtothearmchair.Thebedhadbeenconvertedbackintoasofa.
“MayIbemother?”heaskedwhenhejoinedher,indicatingtheteapot.Handingheramug,hesaid,“Findwhatyouwerelookingfor?”
“Actually”—shetookit—“Ididnot.”
Nodrugsexceptaspirin.Itdidn’tsurprisehernow.Thismanwasnotthedrunkenaddicthewantedpeopletobelieve.
“Ineedaninsider,Mr.Hamilton.Someonewhoknowsthings,whocanfindthingsout.Someonewillingtotalk.”
“Aboutthebusbombs?Iknownothingaboutthem.”
“AboutthedirtylittlesecretsoftheDunnadministration.”
Thatwasmetwithsilence.
“WhywouldIdothat?”hefinallysaid.
“Becauseyou’retryingtodigthemupyourself.”
“No,I’mjusttryingtofindmyownevidence.”
“MayI?They’redelicious.”Shenoddedtowardthecookies.
“Wouldyoulikeasandwich?Areyouhungry?”
Shesmiled.“No,I’mfine.Butthankyou.”Sheleanedtowardhim.“Whatdidtheydotoyou?”
Whenhewasquiet,shedecidedtohelphimalong.
“Theyfiredyouwithoutcause,sotheyhadtoinventcause.Theymockedupemails,messages,somethingshowingyou’reanaddict.”
Asshespoke,shewatchedhim.He’dloweredhiseyes.
No,shethought,therewasmore.“ForIhavemore…”
“Therewasthesuggestionyouweretrafficking.”
Heraisedhiseyesandtookalong,deepbreath.“Iwasn’t.”
“Butyoudiddodrugs.”
“Whodidn’t?Iwasakid,theywereourformofamartini.ButIdidn’t—”
“—inhale?”
Hesmiled.“Ididn’ttraffic.Ineverwould.AndIdidn’tdoanythingstrongerthangrass.ButtheymadeitsoundlikeIwassomedrug-addleddangertotheadministration,thatIwaspossiblygoingtosellsecretstofundmyhabit.ThatIwasadangertonationalsecurity.”
Hiseyesnowpleadedwithher.No,nother.Betsyrealizedwhilehewaslookingather,hewasseeinghisaccusers.Intheclosed-doormeeting.Astheyplacedtheevidenceinfrontofhim.
Hisshock.Hisdenials.Hispleading.Hisweeping.Theyhadtobelievehim.
Andthetragicthingwasthat,ofcourse,theydid.
“Whydidtheydothattoyou?”sheasked.
Hebroughthislaptopovertoherandclickedsomekeys,bringingupafilewithaphoto.
“That’stheclosestIcancometoareason.ItcameoutthreedaysbeforeIwasfired.”
Itwasfromanewspaperreport.No,notareport.ADCpoliticalgossipcolumn.ThepictureshowedPeteHamilton,lookingsomuchyoungerthantheyoungmaninfrontofher.HewaslaughingwithsomeWhiteHousecorrespondents.TheywereinOfftheRecord.
Thelineunderitsaid,PeteHamilton,WhiteHousepresssecretary,clearlyinonthejoke.
Betsylookedup.“That’sit?Theyfiredyouformeetingwithreporters?Isn’tthatwhatyou’resupposedtodo?”
“LoyaltywasthemostimportantthinginthatWhiteHouse.Anyonewholookedliketheymightsayanythingatallcriticalwasletgo.”
“Butyou’rejustlaughing.Itcould’vebeenaboutanything.”
“Didn’tmatter.ThosearejournalistsfromCNN.ThePresidentthoughtIwaslaughingatsomejokeabouthim.Theseedwasplanted.Weedsgrowquickly.Ihadtogo.”
“Go,OK,maybeatastretch.Buttheymadeyoulooklikeanationalsecuritythreat.Atrafficker.Theyruinedyou.”
“Asanexample.Itwasearlyintheadministration,theyneededtoshoweveryonewhatwouldhappentoanyoneevensuspectedofbeingdisloyal.I’mluckytheydidn’tputmyheadonaspike.”
“Theymightaswellhave.You’reunemployable.”
“Yes.Theynevermadeastatement,neverpubliclyaccusedme,nothingthatIcoulddefendortaketocourt.”
“They?EricDunn?”
Shecouldseehimhesitate.“Ihopenot,butIdon’tknow.Notmuchhappenedinthatadministrationthathedidn’tknowabout.”
“Andnow?”Shelookedatthetableandthefiles.“You’retryingtoclearyourname.Findproofitwasmanufactured.”
“Tookmeawhiletogetthisangry.AtfirstIwasshocked.ThenIactuallythoughtIdeservedit.IbelievedinEricDunn.Inthegoalsoftheadministration.Butastimewentby,andIsawthedamagethey’ddonetome,Igotangry.”
“Youhavealongfuse.”
“Attachedtoabigbomb.”
“WhatwasthatperformanceatOfftheRecordtoday?Youwerejustpretendingtobedrunkorhigh.Why?”
“Youneedtotellmewhyyou’rehere,Mrs.Jameson.Andyouneedtoknowthat,nomatterwhathappenedtome,I’maconservative,throughandthrough.ImightnotbeabigfanofDunnanymore,butIalsothinkyourmanisafool.”
Betsysurprisedhimwithalaugh.“Ifyoureallydostillfollowpolitics,youknowyouwon’tgetanyargumentfromme,orfromSecretaryAdams.”Thenshegrewserious.“Ourmanmightbeafool,butatleasthe’snotdangerous.”
“APresidentwho’safoolis,bydefinition,dangerous.”
“WhatImeanisthathe’snotoutrightplottingtooverthrowthegovernmentbyhelpingtosupport,maybeevenarm,terrorists.YouaskedwhatI’mdoinghere?WethinkEricDunn,orpeopleloyaltohim,areinvolvedinthebusbombings,andwhat’scomingnext.”
PeteHamiltonstaredather.Surprised,perhaps,butnot,shethought,shocked.
“Andwhatmakesyouthinkthat?”
“BecauseheallowedthereleaseofBashirShah,thePakistani—”
“Iknowwhoheis.He’soutofhousearrest?”
“Andhasdisappeared.”
“YouthinkShah’sbehindthebombings?”
“No.It’snotyetpublic,buttherewasaPakistaninuclearphysicistoneachofthosebuses,recruitedbyShah.”
Itwaseerietoseehisface.Hestilllookedlikeacherub,butacherubwho’dswallowedamonster.
“Whatdoyouknow?”sheasked.“Youknowsomething.You’veheardsomething.”
“YouaskedwhyIgotoOfftheRecordandpretendtobedrunk.IgotheretoprovetothemthatI’mnothreat.I’msofargone,nooneneedstoworryaboutme.Andtheydon’t.SoIsitthereglassy-eyed,mumblingtomyself,whiletheytalktoeachother.Ihearthings.Ifthey’regoingtomakemeadrunkennonperson,Imightaswelltakeadvantageofthat.”
Betsylookedatthisman-childandrealizedshemightbeinthepresenceofamodernMozart.Aboygenius.
“Andwhathaveyouheard?”
“Whispers.Peoplearealwaysscheming,alwaysexaggeratinginDC.Alwayspromisingbigthings,butthis’sdifferent.This’squiet.Noneoftheregularpoliticalbullshitandposturing.I’vetriedtofindout,butmyproblemis,Iknowwheretolookandhowtolook.I’vespentyearslistening,hearingthings.Iknowwheretheykeeptheirconfidentialrecords.WhatIdon’thaveisaccess.Ican’tgetthroughtheWhiteHousecybersecurity.”
Betsysmiled.
Atjustafterseveninthemorning,ZaharaAhmadileftherhomefortheshortwalktotheUniversityofTehran.
Arose-coloredhijabframedherfaceandfelltoherfeet.
Hermotheralwaysworeblack,andherfatherhadinsistedhisdaughtersalsowearthemoresomberhijab,outofrespect.Butonceshewasinhertwentiesandatuniversity,Zahara,whoadoredherfather,indulgedinthisoneactofpersonalrebellion.
Herhijabswerebrightandcheerful.Because,she’dexplainedtoherfather,Islammadeherhappy.Allahbroughtherjoyandpeace.
Whileherfathercouldseethatwastrue,hedidnotapproveoragree.Dr.Ahmadiworriedthathiselderdaughter,whoheadored,didnothavetheproperrespectorreverenceorevenfearoftheirGod,nevermindtheirgovernment.
Heknewwhatbothcoulddo,ifdispleased.
AsZaharaAhmadiwalkedthefamiliarroute,shebecameawareofsomeonebehindher.Inashopwindowshesawnotonebuttwopeople.Amanandawoman.Bothindeepestblack,thewomaninafullburqa.
ZaharaknewVAJAagents,membersofthesecretintelligenceservice,whenshesawthem.They’dvisitedherhome,herfather,allherlife.Sittinginhismessystudyandquestioninghim.Instructinghim.Hetookitallinanddidashewastold.
Not,sheknew,becausehewasforcedto,butbecausehewantedto.
She’dneverbeenafraidofthesepeople.Zaharasawthemasherfatherdid.Extensionsofagovernmentintentonprotectingitscitizensagainstahostileworld.Butnowsheknewdifferently.Eversincethatlastvisit.Thatlastconversationthathaddrifteduptheventintoherroom.
Shepickedupherpace.
Thestreetswereemptyexceptforsomevendorsbeginningtoputouttheirwares.
Themanandwomanspedup,theirfootstepsgettingcloser.
Shespedup.
Theyspedup.
Shebrokeintoarun.
Theyranafterher.Gaining.Thefastersheran,themorepanickedshebecame.
She’dalwaysthoughtshewasbrave.Nowsherealizedshe’djustbeenna?ve.
Zahararaceddownanalleyandouttheotherside,hercheerfulbrightpinkrobesflappingbehindher.Markingher.Makingherimpossibletomiss.
“Stop,”oneofthemyelled.“Wedon’twanttohurtyou.”
Butofcourse,whatelsewouldtheysay?Stop,sowecankillyou?Tortureyou?Disappearyou?
Zaharadidn’tstop.Butassheturnedthenextcorner,sheranstraightintotheman.Actuallybumpingintohimsohardshestumbledbackwardandwouldhavefallenifthewomancomingupbehindhadn’tcaughther.
Zaharastruggled,butthemanheldhertight,ahandoverhermouth,whilethewomanreachedintothepocketofherburqa.
“No,”Zaharatriedtoplead.Hervoicemuffledbythehand.“No,don’t.”
Somethingwasthrustintoherface.
“Zahara?”cameavoice.
SlowlyshestoppedtwistingandstaredatthemobilephoneasitspoketoherinaccentedFarsi.Itwasayoungwoman’svoice.AnAmericanvoice.
“It’sAnahita.Yourcousin.Thesepeopleareheretohelp.”
IntheofficeofAirForceThreeasitsoaredtowardOman,SecretaryAdams,Katherine,andAnahitaallstaredatthephoneonthedesk.
Waitingforareply.Themomentstickedby.
“Anahita?”camethetinnyvoice.
Thepeoplegatheredaroundlookedateachotherandsmiled.Relaxing.
“HowdoIknowit’syou?”
Theywerepreparedforthisquestion.Inanticipation,they’daskedIrfanDahirtotellhisdaughtersomethingonlyheandhisyoungerbrothercouldhaveknown
EllennoddedtoAnahita.
“Myfatherusedtocallyourfather‘littleshithead,’andyourfathercalledmyfather‘dumbass’becausehedidn’tstudyphysicsbutwentintoeconomics.”
Asmallmoanofrelief,andevenamusement,cameoutofthespeaker.
“It’strue.Inowcallmylittlesisterthat.She’sstudyingtheater.”
“Ihaveanothercousin?”askedAnahita,staringatthesmallboxonthedeskasthoughitcontainedthefamilyshe’dlongedforallherlife.
“Ihaveabrothertoo.Hereallyisashithead.”
Anahitalaughed.
Ellenmadearapidcirclewithherfinger.
Anahitanodded.“Igotyourmessagebutcouldn’tstopthebombings.Listen,thosepeoplearetheretohelpifyougetintotrouble.Theycangetyouout.”
“ButIdon’twanttoleave.Iran’smyhome.Ididittohelp,nottohurtIran.Killinginnocentpeopleisn’tthewayforward.”
“Yes,allright,butyoudon’twanttoendupinthehandsofthesecretpolice.Listen,wehavetoknowhowyourfatherfoundoutaboutthephysicists.DoyouknowaboutBashirShah?Whatdoeshehaveplanned?If—”
Therewas,then,ashout.Thesoundofascuffle.
Andthenthelinewentdead.
CHAPTER23
“I’msorry,MadameSecretary,”theIranianForeignMinistersaid.“Busbombs?Ihavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout.”
“Yousurpriseme,MinisterAziz.DoesPresidentNasserinottakeyouintohisconfidence?”
Theyweresittinginahugereceptionroom,havingbeenmetattheentrancetothepalacebytheSultanhimself.
Thetall,graciousmanhadwalkedEllentotheroomoverlookingtheGulfofOman,makingpoliteconversationabouttheartandcultureofOmanontheway.
Andthenhe’dleftthem.
Theroomwascoveredfloortoceilinginnear-blindingwhitemarble.Outthedoubledoors,whichopenedontoawideterrace,EllencouldalmostseeIranacrossthewater.Hadhewantedto,theIranianForeignMinistercouldhaveboatedovertotheirmeeting.
Now,assheleanedforward,Azizleanedback.Upuntilthatmomentshe’ddoneeverythingtheculturalattachéshadadvised.
WhenmeetingwiththeIranianForeignMinister,thereshouldbenotouching.
Usehisformaltitle.
Herhairmustbecoveredinamodestheadscarf.
Neverturnyourbackonhim,shewastold,andneverlookatthetime.Andahundredothersmallthingsthatwouldnotcauseoffense.
Whileshe’dcertainlyavoidedinsult,doingallthosethingshadnotactuallygottenheranywhere.Andthoughshehadnodesiretocausemoredamagetoarelationshiponlifesupport,neitherdidshehavetimeforthisposturing.
“Icanassureyou,iftherewassomethingtoknow,”hesaid,“Iwould.”
Allofthiswassaidthroughhisinterpreter.
EllenhadaskedtheIranianForeignMinisteriftheymightsharehis.
“That’squiteanactoftrust,SecretaryAdams,”MinisterAzizhadsaidinperfectEnglishduringtheirphoneconversation.
“You’renotsuggestingthere’sariskyourinterpretermightmisrepresentme?”shesaid,hervoicefilledwithamusement.
“Ifhedoes,wewilljusthavehistonguetornoutbyeagles.Thatiswhatyourpresssaysaboutus,isn’tit?Thatwearebarbarians?”
“Ourownmistruths,”admittedEllen.“There’salotwedon’tactuallyknowabouteachother’scultureandreality.Perhapsnow’sthetimeforhonesty.”Shepaused.“Andtransparency.”
ThoughtemptedtodemandtoknowwhathadhappenedtoZaharaAhmadi,shedidnot.Itwouldonlymakethingsworse.
Instead,theysatacrossfromeachother,thebrightsungleamingoffthevastoceanofwhitemarbleintheAlAlamPalace,withMutrahHarborofOldMuscatinfrontofthem.
Ofcourse,Ellendidn’ttellhimthattheyoungaidebehindherspokeFarsi.
Anahitahadbeeninstructednottosayanything,andcertainlynottosayanythinginFarsi,buttojustlistenandletherknowlaterwhattheForeignMinisteractuallysaid.
AzizhadregardedAnahita,thenspokentoherinFarsi.Askingwhereshewasfrom.
Anahitahadlookedblank.
He’dsmiled.
Ellenwasn’tsureifhe’dbeenconvinced,butasthemeetingwenton,shecouldseethathe’dforgottenaboutKatherine,Anahita,andCharlesBoynton,sittingquietlybehindher,ashefocusedontheAmericanSecretaryofState.
“YousayPresidentNasseritellsyoueverythingofimportance,andyet,”saidEllen,“youdonotknowaboutthebusbombs?Theonesyourowngovernmentplanted?”
Shewasintriguedbythisman.Heclearlybelievedinthegoalsoftherevolution,butalsoappearedtobelievethatanisolatedIranwasaweakenedone.
Andhe’dbeensendingsubtlesignalstoherthathenolongertrustedtheRussians,Iran’sneighborandally,andmightbeopentoanententewiththeUS.Notfulldiplomaticrelations,notevenclose,butaslightshift.Which,givenhowDunnhadwalkedawayfromthenuclearagreement,wouldbeseismicforIran.
ThoughAzizhadalsomadeitclearthatthenewAmericanPresidentwouldstartfromaverybigtrustdeficit.ItwouldbedifficultforIrantoenterintoanotheragreementwithoversightbecauseitwouldmakethemlookweakenedandvulnerable.
Therewasnow,SecretaryAdamsfelt,avery,verysmallopeningcreatedbyapredatoryandunpredictableRussiaandanAmericaopentobeinglessconfrontational.
Itwasherjobtofindthatsliverofmutualbenefit.Andperhaps,overtime,expanditintoagenuineunderstanding.SothatIranwouldnolongerbeapersistentthreat,andtheUSanditsalliesnolongertargetsforattacks.
Buttheyweren’tthereyet.Farfromit.Andthebusbombshadmadethechasmallthegreater.Butithadalsogivenhertheopeningsheneeded.
“Soyou’drathernotdiscussthemurdersofthePakistaniphysicists,”shesaid,selectingaplumpdatefromtheplatteroffruitandothertreatsprovidedbytheSultan’skitchens.“Nevermindthemurdersofallthosepeopleonthebuses.”
“I’mhappytodiscussit,I’mjustnothappytobeblamed.Afterall,whywouldIranwanttokillPakistanis?Andtodoitinsuchabloodyway?Itmakesnosense,MadameSecretary.Now,India…”
Hespreadouthisexpressivehands,invitinghertoseehispoint.
“Ahhh,”shesaid,sittingbackandspreadingoutherownhands.“Now,BashirShah…”
Shewatchedasthemanacrossfromherturnedtomarble.Thesungleamingofftheperspirationonhisbrow.
Hissmilehadfaded,andhiseyesnolongerlookedevenslightlyamused.Heglaredather,themaskofcivilityslipping.
“Perhaps,”shesaid,“wemightspeakinprivate?”
Whentheothershadleft,EllenleanedtowardMinisterAziz,andheleanedclosertoher.
“Havercraftemanporemārmāhiast.”Shepronouncedthewordsslowly,quietly,carefully.Andsawhisgraybrowsrise
“Really?”hesaid.
Ellen’sbrowslowered.“WhatdidIjustsay?Myaidelookeditupandgavemethephrase.I’vebeenpracticing.”
“Ijusthopewhatyousaidisn’ttrue.Yourhovercraftisfullofeels.”
Ellen’slipstwitchedintoasmileshewasclearlyfightingtocontain.Finally,givingup,shelaughed.“Iamsorry.Thetruthis,myhovercrafthasnoeels.”
Nowhelaughed.“Iwouldn’tbesosure.Now,whatdidyoumeantosay,MadameSecretary?”
“TheEnglishexpressionIwasgoingforis‘cardsonthetable.’”
“Iagree.Atimeforhonesty.”
Sheheldhiseyesandnodded.“AmessagewassentfromthehomeofoneofyourseniornuclearphysicistsinTehran,warningusaboutthebusbombs.Unfortunately,theFSOreceivingitdismisseditasjunkandignoredituntilitwastoolate.”
“Ashame,”wasallhesaid.
IftheIranianForeignMinisterwassurprisedbyhercandor,hewasfartoopracticedadiplomattoshowit.
Timewasshort,andtherewasalotofgroundtocover.She’dmanagedtogethimonhisownmorequicklythanshe’dexpected,butnowsheneededtocrossthefinishline.
“Thatphysicistandhisfamilyarenowinthecustodyofyoursecretpolice.”
“Thereisnosuchthing,”hesaid.Aroteanswerfortheearsofanyeelsthatmightbelistening.
Sheignoredit.“TheUnitedStatesgovernmentwouldconsideritafavoriftheywerereleased,alongwiththeothertwoIranianspickedupatthesametime.”
“Evenifwehadthem,Idoubttheycouldbereleased.Doyoulettraitorsandspiesgo?”
“Ifthereisagreaterbenefit,yes.”
“AndwhatwouldthatbenefitbetoIran?”
“ThethanksofthenewPresident.AprivateIOU.”
“Wehadthethanksoftheoldone.Anditwassubstantial.Hepulledoutofthenucleartreaty,allowingustheindependenceIrandeservestodevelopourpeacefulnuclearenergyprogram.Withoutinterference.”
“True.HealsoallowedBashirShahtobereleased.Dr.Shahwouldbethecobrainyourhovercraft,no?”
Azizstaredather.Andshestaredback.Waiting.Waiting.
“Whatisityoureallywant,MadameSecretary?”
“IwanttoknowhowyouknewaboutthePakistaninuclearphysicists,andwhatyouknowaboutShah’splans.AndIwantthosepeoplereleased.”
“Whywouldwedoallthat?”
“Becausetohaveafriend,youneedtobeafriend.Whydidyouagreetomeetme?BecauseyouknowthatRussiaisunstable,fickle.You’reincreasinglyisolated.TheIslamicRepublicofIranneeds,ifnotfriends,thenfewerenemies.Shah,withPakistan’shelp,isonthevergeofprovidingnuclearweaponscapabilitytoatleastoneothercountryintheregion.Maybeeventoterroristorganizations.That’swhyyouhadthescientistskilled.Buttherearemorephysicistsoutthere.Youcan’tkillthemall.Youneedustohelpstopit.Andweneedyou.”
AfewminuteslaterSecretaryAdamsandMinisterAzizparted.TheIranianForeignMinisterheadedstraighttotheairporttotaketheshortflightbackhome,whileEllenrequestedtheSultan’sindulgencethatshebeallowedtostayinhispalaceforalittlewhilelonger.
Standingatthebalustrade,lookingoutovertheancient,storiedport,theAmericanSecretaryofStateplacedhercall.
“Barb?IneedtospeaktothePresident.”
“He’salittlebusy—”
“Now.”
BarbStenhauserstoodbackandwatchedasPresidentWilliamstookthecall.
“Ellen,howdiditgo?”Therewasmorethanaslightedgeofanxietytohisvoice.
“IneedtogotoTehran.”
“Right.AndIneedtobeat90percentinthepolls.”
“No,Doug,youwantthat.I’mtalkingaboutaneed.MinisterAzizallbutadmittedtheyplantedthebombs,andIthinkwehaveachanceofrescuingourpeopleandgettinginformationonShah,buttherewasnowayAzizwasgoingtogiveuswhatweneed.Hecan’t.OnlythePresidentcan.AndmaybenotevenNasseri.ItmighthavetobetheAyatollah.”
“You’llnevergetanaudiencewiththeSupremeLeader.”
“Iwon’tifIdon’ttry.IfIdemonstrateawillingnesstogotothem,thatwillhelp.”
“Whatyou’redemonstratingisdesperation.ForGod’ssake,Ellen,haveyounosense?HowwoulditlookifoneofthefirstplacesyouvisitasSecStateisaswornenemywho’sbombedtankers,shotdownplanes,harboredterrorists,andnowmurderedinnocentcivilians?”
“Nooneneedstoknow.Icanbeinandoutinhours.Takeaprivatejet.DoesanyoneevenknowI’minOman?”
“No.We’veexplainedyourabsencebysayingyou’reataluxuryspainNorthKorea.”
AlaughescapedEllenbeforeshecouldstopit.
“Can’tthisbedonevirtually?”askedthePresident.“Wecan’triskanyonebelievingwe’recozyinguptoenemies.”
Acrosstheroomhecouldseethebankofmonitorswithtalkingheads.So-calledexperts.Most,ifnotall,wonderingwheretheWilliamsadministrationwasinallthis.Howtheycouldnothaveknownabouttheattacks.Whatelsedidn’ttheyknow?
TheformerSecretaryofStatewasonFoxNewsexplainingthat,ontheirwatch,nosuchcatastrophehappenedorcouldhappen.Andwhoknewwhatmighthappennext,onAmericansoil,withsuchweaknessintheOvalOffice.
“Iunderstandhowthismightlook,”Ellenconceded.“ButwefinallyhaveachancetogetShahandstopwhateverhehasplanned.Ihavetobethereinperson.Ihavetoshowgoodwill.”
“DoweknowthattheIraniansevenhavethatinformation?”
“No,”admittedEllen.“Buttheyhavemorethanwedo.Theyknewaboutthephysicists.WhatIdon’tunderstandiswhytheyfelttheyhadtoblowupwholebuses.Whynotjustshootthescientists?Fareasier.”
“Asapublicspectacle?”Williamssuggested.“They’vedoneworse.”
“Itstilldoesn’tmakesense.TheanswersareinTehran,andsoareZaharaAhmadiandouragents.They’vebeenarrestedbythesecretpolice.Wehavetotrytogetthemout,andfindoutwhattheIraniansknowaboutShah.Iftheydon’tknowwhatShahhasplannedandwhereheis,thentheymightknowwhodoes.”
“Whywouldtheytellus?”
“Becausetheywantustostophim.”
“Thenwhydidn’ttheytellusbefore?Iftheywantourhelp,whydidn’ttheytellusaboutthephysicists?”
“Look,Idon’tknow.That’swhyIhavetogotoTehran.”
“Andifitbackfires?IftheIraniansdecidetoreleasephotosofyoubowingtotheGrandAyatollahorPresidentNasseri?Ortheydecidedtoarrestyou?Chargeyouwithspying?Thenwhat?”
“Iknowwhat,”shesaid,hervoicesuddenlycold.“Iknowyouwon’tnegotiateformyrelease.”
“Ellen—”
“DoIhaveyourapprovalornot?TheSultanhasbeenkindenoughtolendmeoneofhisjets,andtheyneedtoknow.AndIneedtogettherebeforetheIranianschangetheirmindandgototheRussiansforhelp.”
“Allright,”saidWilliams.“Go.Butifyougetintotrouble…”
“I’monmyown.Ididthisunilaterally.Ididnotconsultyou.”
Coward,shethoughtasshehungup.
Lunatic,hethoughtashehungup.
“GetTimBeechamuphere,”hesnapped.
“Yes,Mr.President.”
AshisChiefofStaffleft,DougWilliamsstaredatthemonitorsandfeltthewallsoftheOvalOfficebegintospin.Likeacentrifuge.Thatseparatedliquidfromsolid.
Leavingonlythedensebehind.
CHAPTER24
“OK,I’min,”saidPeteHamilton.“Whatdoyouneedmetofind?”BetsyhadinstalledhiminBoynton’sofficeandgivenhimthelog-inandpasswordtoaccessclassifiedinformation,butnotbeforelockingthemaindoorintotheSecretaryofState’ssuiteofrooms,aswellasEllen’sownofficeandherChiefofStaff’s.
She’ddoneeverythingbutshovethecouchupagainstthedoor,andshewasconsideringthat.
“EverythingyoucanonTimBeecham.”
Hamilton’sfingershoveredoverthekeyboardashestaredather.“Jesus.TheDirectorofNationalIntelligence?”
“Yes.TimothyT.Beecham.Andwhileyou’reatit,findoutwhattheTstandsfor.”
Twohourslater,asthesunwasjustcomingup,Hamiltonshovedhischairbackfromthedesk.
“Youhavesomething?”shesaid,walkingovertostandbehindhim.“What’sthis?”
Hamiltonrubbedhisfacewithbothhishands.Hiseyeswerebloodshotandhisfacedrawn.
“That’sallIcouldfindonBeecham.”
“Twohours?”
“Yes.Someonedoesn’twantustoknowmore.Noneofhisreports,hisemails,hisnotesfrommeetings,hisagenda.Fouryears’worthofdocumentsgone.Nothing.Noneofthethingsthatneedto,bylaw,bekept.They’reallgone.”
“Gonewhere?Erased?”
“Orfiledsomewhereelse.Insomeotherdepartment,wherenoonewouldthinktolook.Couldbeanywhere.Orthey’vejustburiedtheinformationsodeepIcan’tfindit.”
“Why?”
“Isn’titobvious?There’ssomethingtheywanttohide.”
“Keepdigging.”
“Ican’t.I’vehitbottom.”
Betsynodded,thinking.“Allright,sofarwe’vebeengoingafterBeecham.Maybeweneedtolookelsewhere,sneakaroundbehindhim.Findabackdoor.”
“Shah?Taliban?”
“Bowties.”
“Sorry?”
“TimBeechamwearsbowties.IrememberreadingafeatureonhimthatEllen’sDCpaperdidfortheirfashionsection.”
“So?”
“Sotheymustarchiveallnewsstories.There’saclippingservice,right?TimBeechamwasn’ttheDirectorofNationalIntelligenceintheDunnadministration.Hewasahigh-levelintelligenceadvisor.Hewouldn’tbequotedinmanyarticles.Infact,he’dmakesurehewasn’t.Butoneonfashion?Afeel-goodarticleinapapernotoriousforcriticizingeverythingDunn’speopledid?Theymust’veleaptatthechance.”
“Bowties?”
“TheygotAlCaponeontaxevasion,”saidBetsy,leaningclosertothescreen.“WhynotgetBeechamonbowties?Thenoosearoundhisneck.Theywouldn’tbothertoclassifybowties.Findthearticleandyou’llfindhim.”
PeteHamiltonunderstood.Bowtiescouldbethebridge,theonetheyfailedtoburn,toawealthofincriminatinginformation.
“I’llgetcoffee,”saidBetsy.
“Andpastries,”Petecalledafterher.“Cinnamonbuns.”
AssheleftBoynton’soffice,thesoundoffingerspoundingonkeysfollowingherout,sherememberedherpromisetocallGeneralWhitehead’sRangerandaskforprotection.
Itseemedsilly.Impossibletobelieve,inthecomfortableandfamiliarandsafeenvironsoftheSecretaryofState’sofficesdeepintheStateDepartmentbuilding,thattherecouldbeathreattotheirlives.Butthen,sheknewthatwasexactlywhatthosepeopleonthosebusesmust’vethought.
Butfirst,coffeeandcinnamonbuns.
Ridingdowntothecafeteriaonthefirstfloor,Betsywascomfortedknowingthatthey’datleastfoundoutwhattheTstoodforin“TimothyT.Beecham.”Thoughthattoowasodd.
TheolderIranianwomanfromtheTehrangovernmentsteppedbackandexaminedEllen.ThensaidinEnglish,“You’lldo.”
TheywereinthebedroomoftheSultan’sjet,nowparkedinahangarofTehran’sImamKhomeiniInternationalAirport.Thewomanthenturnedherattentiontotheothersinthespaciouscabin.KatherineAdamsandAnahitaDahirweresimilarlyattiredandsimilarlyunrecognizableinhead-to-toeburqas.
BeforeboardingtheSultan’sprivatejetinOman,SecretaryAdamshadcalledMinisterAzizandaskedforthetraditionaldress.Heimmediatelyunderstoodwhy.
Then,whilestillintheterminalinOman,she’dtakenAnahitaaside.
“Ithinkyoushouldstayhere.IftheIraniansfindoutwhoyouare,andtheyprobablywill,therecouldbetrouble.Youmightevenbearrestedasaspy.”
“Iknow,MadameSecretary.”
“Youknow?”
Anahitasmiled.“I’velivedallmylifeinfearofwhatwouldhappeniftheIraniansfindmyfamily.ItseemsinconceivablethatI’djustwalkrightintothelion’sden.ButyesterdayIwatchedmyparents,andIsawwhatallthatsecrecyandfearhasdonetothem.Thelivesthey’veled,afraidallthetime.I’mtiredofbeingafraid.Tiredofmakingmyselfsmallforfearofbeingnoticed.Enough.Besides,whateverhappens,itcan’tbeanyworsethanwhatI’veimagined.”
“Idon’tknowifthat’strue,”saidEllen.
“Youdon’tknowwhatI’veimagined.Iwasraisedonstoriesofthedemonswhocomeatnight.Thekhrafstra.TheonesIwasmostafraidofaretheAl.They’reinvisible.Theonlywayyouknowthey’rethereisbecausehorriblethingsarehappening.”
Andhorriblethingswerecertainlyhappening.
EllenrememberedAnahita’sfacewhenshefirstheardthatBashirShahwasbehindthebombings.
“AndShahisanAl?”
“Iwish.He’sAzhiDahaka.Themostpowerfuldemon.HecommandsanarmyofAls,bringingchaos,terror.Death.AzhiDahakaiscreatedoutoflies,MadameSecretary.”
Thetwowomenstaredateachother.
“Iunderstand,”saidEllen.
ShesteppedasideandwatchedasAnahitaboardedtheflighttoTehran.
Justbeforetheplanelanded,EllenhadplacedacalltothehospitalinFrankfurt,tospeaktoGil.
“Whatdoyoumean,he’sleft?”shedemanded.
“I’msorry,MadameSecretary.Hesaidyouknew.”
Morelies,thoughtEllen,lookingoutthewindowatIranbelow.Persia.Shewondered,ifshelookedhardenough,ifshe’dspottheAzhiDahakaracingtowardTehrantomeettheplane.Orwasitoccupiedelsewhere?WasitcreepingtowardtheshoresoftheUnitedStates,grownevermorepowerfulforalltheliesbeingtold?
“Buthisinjuries?”shesaidtotheheadphysician.
“Arenotlife-threatening,andhe’sanadult.Hecansignhimselfout.”
“Doyouknowwherehewent?”
“I’mafraidnot,MadameSecretary.”
Shethentriedhisprivateline,butitwasansweredbysomeoneelse.Anurse.Gilhadgivenherhisphoneandaskedhertoholdontoit,thenurseexplained.
Sothathecouldn’tbetracked,Ellenknew.
“Didhetellyouanythingelse?”sheasked.
“No.”
“Whatisit?There’smore,isn’tthere?”Shecouldtellbyhertone.
“Heaskedtoborrowtwothousandeuros.”
“Andyougaveittohim?”
“Yes.Igotitoutofthebankyesterday.”
Whichmeant,Ellenrealized,he’dbeenthinkingofboltingsincethen,andhadn’ttoldher.
“Whydidyougivehimthemoney?”
“Becausehewasdesperate,”shesaid.“Andhe’syourson,andIwantedtohelp.DidIdosomethingwrong?”
“No,notatall.I’llmakesureyougetyourmoneyback.Ifyouhearfromhim,pleaseletmeknow.Danke.”
Asshehungup,herphonerang.
“Amisplacedmodifierwalksintoabar…”
Betsy!Ellenwasalwaysrelievedtohearthatvoice.
“…ownedbyamanwithaglasseyenamedRalph.Whatisit?Haveyoufoundsomething?”
“Whatwe’vefoundisnothing,nothingatall,onTimBeecham.It’sallhiddendeep.Whichis,initself,prettytelling,don’tyouthink?”
“Betsy,wehavetofindsomething.Wehavetohaveproofhe’sbehindallthis.He’lljustsayit’sasetup.Thatsomeoneelseistryingtoimplicatehim.IneedtowarnthePresident,butIcan’tdothatwithoutproof.”
“Iknow,Iknow.We’retrying.AndIthinkwemighthavefoundawayin,throughabackdoor.Thankstoyou.”
“Me?”
“Well,notyou,butyourDCpaper.Youdidafashionfeatureonpowerbrokerswhowearbowties.”
“Wedid?Must’vebeenaslowmonth.”
“Asitturnsout,itcould’vebeenthemostimportantstoryyouroutletseverran.AllthedocumentsonBeechamhavebeenburiedinanotherfile,wherewe’dneverhavefoundthem.Wouldn’tknowwheretostartlooking.Excepttheyalsofiledthebowtiestory,theonlyinterviewhegavewhileworkingforDunn.Ican’timaginetheyclassifiedit.PeteHamilton’slookingnow.”
“Whenyoufindthat,youfindtherest.”
“Ihopeso.”Betsyheardadeepsighdowntheline.
“You’llletmeknowifitleadsanywhere?”
“You’llbethefirst.Oh,andwedidfindonethingaboutBeecham.WhattheTstandsfor.You’llneverbelieveit.”
“What?”
“HisfullnameisTimothyTroubleBeecham.”
“HismiddlenameisTrouble?”askedEllen,findingitdifficultnottolaugh.“Whonamestheirchildthat?”
“It’seitheranoldfamilyname,orhisparentshadaninkling…”
Thatthey’dgivenbirthtoanAl,thoughtEllen.
“Oh,andIcalledCaptainPhelan,theRanger,”saidBetsy.“She’sonherway.”
“Thankyou.”
“Whereareyou?”
“JustlandinginTehran.”
“Letmeknow…?”
“Iwill.Youtoo.”
TheplanecircledTehran’sImamKhomeiniInternationalAirport.Ellen’sbreathfoggedthewindowassheunconsciouslyhummedahalf-forgottentune.
AndthentheAmericanSecretaryofStatebecameawareofthesongshewashumming,bytheHorslips.
“‘Trouble,trouble,’”shemurmuredthelyrics.“‘TroublewithacapitalT.’”
Whenthejethadcometoahaltinthehangar,theIranianwomansteppedonboardcarryingtheburqastheSecretaryofStatehadrequested.
Afewminuteslatertheylefttheplane.Thewomendescendedthestairs,withCharlesBoyntonbehind.
TheWesternwomenwerecarefulnottotriponthelongburqas,whichcoveredthemheadtotoewithonlyasmallmeshwindowattheireyes.
WomeninIrandidnotnormallywearthefullburqa—thatwasmostlyinAfghanistan—butenoughdidthatthesethreewouldnotlookcompletelyoutofplace.Norwouldacasualobserver,anairportworker,adriver,beabletotellthattheAmericanSecretaryofStatehadjustarrivedinIran.
EllenAdamsreachedthelastrung,andshesteppedontotheground.ThefirstseniorAmericanofficialtosetfootinIransincePresidentCarterin1979.
“Holyshit,”saidPeteHamilton,lookingoverthescreenatBetsy.“I’min.”
“Inwhere?”askedDenisePhelan,puttingdownhercinnamonbun.
Betsywasgrinningeartoear.“Letmetellyourbossfirst.”
ShedialedGeneralWhiteheadandtoldhim.
“Bowties,”saidtheChairoftheJointChiefswithalaugh.“You’readangerouswoman.I’llberightover.”
“Dr.Shah,theSecretaryofState’splanehasn’tlandedinIslamabadasplanned,”theaidesaid.
“Thenwhereisshe?”
“WethinkTehran.”
“Thatcan’tpossiblybetrue.Shewouldn’tbethatreckless.Findout.”
“Yes,sir.”
BashirShahsippedhislemonadeandstaredintospace.He’dgrown,overtheyears,almostfondofEllenAdams.He’dcometoknowherquiteintimately,andthathadbredacuriousbond.
“Whatareyouupto?”hewhisperedtohimself.
Heknewherwellenoughtoknowsheconsideredhermovescarefullybeforeacting.Thoughitwaspossiblehe’drattledherintothismistake.
Ormaybeitwasn’tone.
Maybehewastheonemakingthemistake.Thethoughtwassoforeign,sounexpected,herealizedhewastheonewhowasrattled.Itwasslight,asmallbarbofdoubt.Butitwasthere.
TheaidereturnedafewminuteslaterandfoundDr.Shahadjustingthecutleryonthetable,setforhisluncheonguests.
“ItisTehran,sir.”
BashirShahtookinthatinformation,lookingoutacrosstheterracetotheocean.SodifferentfromallthoseyearsunderhousearrestinIslamabad,wherehisworldwascircumscribedbyhislushgarden.
Hewouldneverallowhimselftobeimprisoned,nomatterhowcomfortably,again.
“Andtheson?”
“He’sexactlywhereyoupredicted.”
“Notpredicted.Therewasnoguesswork.Norwastherefreewill.Hehadnochoice.”
Atleastonememberofthatdamnedfamilycouldbecountedontogowherepushed
“Getmyplaneready.”
“But,sir,yourlunchguestswillbeherein—”AlookfromShahshuthimup,andhehurriedawaytoplacethecall.
“Hecan’tcancel,”saidthewomanontheotherend.“Whodoeshethinkheis?It’sanhonortohavetheformerPres—”
“Dr.Shahsendshissincereapologies.Anemergencyhascomeup.”
BashirShahgotintothearmoredlimousine,turninghisbackontheAtlanticOcean.He’dseenenoughwaterforalifetime.Helonged,hefound,foragarden.
CHAPTER25
GilBaharhadleftthehospitalinFrankfurtassoonashismotherwasgone.
Ashedressed,theyoungnursegavehimthemoney.Hesuspecteditwasherlifesavings.
“I’llbeback.I’llpayyouback.”
“Mylittlesisterwassupposedtobeonthatbus.Shemissedit.Iknowyou’retryingtostopsomethingelsefromhappening.Takeit.Go.”
Whenhewasinthecaronthewaytotheairport,heopenedthebag.Thereweretheeuros.Andsomemedicationsandbandages.
Hetookoneofthepainkillersandsavedtherest.
Hourslater,atthemomenthismothertriedcallinghishospitalroominFrankfurt,GilBaharsteppedofftheplaneandlookedaround.
Peshawar.Pakistan.
Hefelthisstomachtightenandhisheartrace,andhewonderedforaninstantifhemightpassoutasbloodrushedfromhisheadtohiscore.Asthoughtryingtoescapethememoryofalltheotherblood.Alltheotherheads.
Hehadn’tbeenbacktoPeshawarsincehiskidnapping.Sincehishorrorwhenherealizeditwasn’tISISorAl-Qaeda,whichwouldhavebeenhorrificenough.No,hewasinthehandsofthePathan.
Lesswell-knownthanotherjihadists,probablybecausepeoplewereafraidtoevenacknowledgetheirexistence,nevermindsaytheirname,thePathanwereanextendedfamilywhoseinfluenceextendedintoAl-Qaeda,theTaliban,evenintosecurityforces.Theyweretheghosts.Andyousuredidn’twanttobetherewhentheymaterialized.
Butwhenthesackhadbeenremovedfromhisheadandhiseyesadjusted,therehewas.InaPathancamp,onthePakistan-Afghanistanborder.
AndGilBaharknewhewasdead.Anditwouldbehorrible.
Butinsteadhe’dmanagedtoescape.He’drunasfastandasfarashecould.Andnowhewasrunningasfastandasfarashecouldtoreturn.
Hetriedtolookrelaxedasthecustomsguardattheairportstudiedhimclosely.Theydidn’tgetmanytourists.
“I’mastudent,”heexplained.“WorkingonmyPhD.It’sontheSilkRoad.Didyouknow—”
Therewasathudasthestamphithispassportandhewaswavedalong.
Onceoutoftheairport,intotheheatanddustandbustleofthecityofalmosttwomillion,Gilpaused.Slendermenrushedtowardhim.
“Taxi?”
“Taxi?”
Gilraisedhishandtohisbrow,tocutdownontheglare,thenchoseoneofthedrivers,whoreachedouttotakehisbag.ButGilkeptholdofit,allbutswattingthemanaway.
Gettingintothebatteredtaxi,hesettledback.OnlywhenthecitywasintherearviewmirrordidGilspeak.
“Salamalaikum,Akbar.”
“Youraccentisimproving,youshit-face.”
“‘Shithead’isbetter.‘Shit-face’normallymeansdrunk.”
“Inyourcase,itcouldmeananal,”saidAkbar,andheardGillaugh.“Andpeacebewithyou,myfriend.”
Akbarturnedoffthemainhighway,andtheybumpedalongincreasinglyruttedroads.TheSilkRoadwasfarfromsmooth,asAlexandertheGreat,MarcoPolo,GenghisKhan,andothershaddiscoveredtotheirperil.
ThefaceoftheChairoftheJointChiefswasgrimashesatatCharlesBoynton’sdeskandreadthetextsandemails.
“Sofarnothingespeciallyincriminating,”hesaid,lookingupandoverthecomputer.“Shahismentioned,butonlyinpassing.It’salmostasthoughBeechamdidn’tknowwhohewas.”
GeneralWhiteheadlookedattheothers.TheofficeoftheChiefofStafftotheSecretaryofStatesmelledofcoffeeandcinnamonbuns.BetsyJamesonandPeteHamiltonstoodontheothersideofthedesk,whileCaptainPhelanhadtakenupastrategicpositionbythedoor.
Theblindshadbeenlowered,thecurtainsdrawn.ItwasthefirstthingtheGeneralhaddonewhenhearrived.Nottoblockoutthesun,buttoblocktheviewofanylong-rangescope.
TheyweredeepintothehiddenfilesonTimothyTroubleBeecham.Butthatmeanttheywerealsoinincreasingdanger.
“There’sareasonsomeonewentthroughthismuchtroublewithBeecham’sdocuments,”saidWhitehead,cedingtheseattoHamilton,whowentbacktowork.“Hidingallthismust’vetakenweeks.”Henoddedinthought.“Yes,there’ssomethinginthere.”
“I’llfindit,”saidHamilton,scrollingandscanning.
“IshismiddlenamereallyTrouble?”askedWhitehead.
“Apparently,”saidBetsy.“Icanseewhyheneverusesit.IthoughtmaybetheTstoodforTraitor.”
BertWhiteheadturnedtolookwithdisgustatthecomputer,asthoughitwerethequisling.ThenhereturnedhisgazetoBetsy.“Where’sSecretaryAdamsnow?”
BeforeBetsycouldanswer,Hamiltonsaid,“OK,that’senoughfornow.Myeyesaretoobleary,I’mafraidofmakingamistake.Ineedtorest.”
Heshutdownthecomputer.
“Icantakeover,”saidBetsy.
“No,youneedaresttoo.Youhaven’tsleptallnight.Besides,IknowwhichdocumentsI’vebeenthrough.Ihaveasystem.You’lljustscrewitup.Onehour,thenI’llbefresher.”
“He’sright,”saidWhitehead,turningtoCaptainPhelan.“Weknowtheimportanceofrest.Ofbeingsharp,right,Captain?”
“Yes,sir.”
GeneralWhiteheadpickedhishatupoffthedesk,glancingatHamiltonashedid,hiseyessharp,assessing.Thenhewalkedtothedoor.
“Areyousureyoucantrusthim?”hewhisperedtoBetsy.“HedidworkforDunn.”
“Sodidyou.”
“Ahhh,no.IworkedfortheAmericanpeople.Stilldo.Buthim?”HeusedhishattogesturetowardPeteHamilton,who’dfoldedhisarmsoverthekeyboardandlaidhisheaddownonthem.“I’mnotsosure.”HeturnedbacktoBetsyandsuddenlysmiled.“Bowties.You’requitesomething.Whenthisisover,Ihopeyou’lljoinmywifeandmefordinner.NotatOfftheRecord.”
Betsysmiled.“I’dloveto.”
Whenthisisover,shethought,watchingCaptainPhelanaccompanytheGeneralashewalkeddownMahoganyRowtotheelevators.Theytalkedinvoicestoolowforher,oranyoneelse,tohear.
Whenthisisover.
Thatwasanicethought.
“Closethedoor,”saidPeteHamiltonwhenshereturnedtoBoynton’soffice.Hewaswideawakeandloggingthecodebackintothecomputer.“Betterstill,lockit.”
“Why?”
“Please.”
Shedid,thenjoinedhim.Hisfingerswereflyingoverthekeys.Itsoundedlikefootstepsrunning,racing.Inhotpursuit.
ThenhestoppedandstoodupsothatBetsycouldtaketheseatandreadwhatitwashe’dfound,andtrapped,intheblackrectangleofthecomputerscreen.
“Yougotit?”shesaid,sittingdown,thoughsomethinginhisexpression,inhispallor,warnedher.Itwasn’twhatthey’dexpected.Itwas,shecouldtell,far,farworse.
Shehadtogooverittwice,threetimes.Thenshescrolleddown.Andbackup.Beforeshetrustedherselftolookoverathim.
“Isthiswhyyouturnedoffthecomputer?”sheasked.
Henodded,staringatthememoonthescreen.
ItgavefullsupporttothePakistaniplantoreleaseDr.Shahfromhousearrest
Scrollingdown,theylookedinstunnedsilenceatthesecondmemo.ItstronglyadvisedwithdrawingfromtheIrannuclearpact.
Athirdwentintodetailastowhynoplanforpost-withdrawalAfghanistanwasnecessaryoradvisable.
Thememoswereeachflaggedhighpriorityandclassifiedtopsecret.AndweresignedbytheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff.GeneralAlbertWhitehead.
“Ohdear.”
“MadameSecretary,”theheadofherDiplomaticSecurityteambentdownandwhispered,“youhaveacall.”
“Thankyou,”shewhisperedback.“ButIcan’ttakeitnow.”
“It’sfromyourcounselor,Mrs.Jameson.”
Ellenhesitated.HereyesneverleavingPresidentNasseri.“PleasetellherI’llgetbacktoherassoonaspossible.”
TheIranianPresidenthadmetSecretaryAdamsandhersmallentourageattheentrancetothemaingovernmentbuilding,wherehehadhisoffices.Ellenhadaskedhispermissiontoremovetheburqasbeforetheirmeetingbegan,thebettertoseehim,andthebetterforhimtoseeher.
“ButbeforeIdo,Mr.President,I’dliketointroduceyoutomycompanions.MyChiefofStaff,CharlesBoynton.”
“Mr.Boynton.”
“Mr.President.”
“Mydaughter,Katherine.”
“Ahhh,themediatitan.You’vetakenoverfromyourmother.”Hesmiledcharmingly.“Ihaveadaughter.Ihopeonedayshe’llsucceedme,ifthepeoplewillit.”
IftheSupremeLeaderwillsit,youmean,thoughtEllen,butdidnotsay.
“Ihopesotoo,”saidKatherine.“ItwouldbewonderfultoseeawomanasPresidentofIran.”
“AsitwillbetoseeawomanasPresidentoftheUnitedStates.Weshallseewhoachievesitfirst.Perhapsyouwillbothserve.Ormaybeyourmother…?”
HeturnedbacktoEllenandgaveasmallbow.
“Oh,now,PresidentNasseri,”saidEllen.“WhathaveIdonetooffendyou?”
Helaughed.Itwasexactlytherightresponse.Acknowledginghiscomment,whilebeingappropriatelyself-deprecating.
Nowshecouldleavethatcharade,andtheburqa,behind.Buttherewasonemoreintroduction.Ellenturnedtothewomanstandingtoherleft.
“AndthisisAnahitaDahir,aforeignserviceofficerintheStateDepartment.”
Anahitasteppedforward,veryslightly.Herburqahidherface,buttherewasnohidingthetensioninherbody.Itemanatedfromher.Ellen,standingsoclose,couldseethevoluminousmaterialtrembling.
“Mr.President,”shesaidinEnglish,beforeswitchingtoFarsi,“myfamilynamewasonceAhmadi.”
Sheliftedherchinandstaredathim,ashestaredather.Oneofhisguardstookastepforwardbutwaswavedaway.
WhileEllencouldnotunderstandtheFarsi,sheheard“Ahmadi”andknewthatAnahitahaddoneit.
SecretaryAdamssteppedclosertoherFSO.
“Iknowwhoyouare,”PresidentNasserisaidinEnglish.“ThedaughterofIrfanAhmadi.YourfatherbetrayedIran.Hebetrayedhissistersandbrothersintherevolution.Hebetrayedhisownsisterandbrother.AndhowhasAmericatreatedhim?Mysourcesreportthatheandyourmotherareinprison.ArrestedforthesimplecrimeofbeingIranian.Theywerenotafraidofus.Theywereafraid”—heturnedtoEllen—“ofyou.”
ThiswasfallingapartmuchfasterthanEllencouldhavepredicted.SouthKoreawassuddenlylookinglikeatriumph.
Sheopenedhermouthtospeak,todenyit,butthensherememberedtheAzhiDahaka.Whothrivedonlies.
Howeasyitwas,Ellenthought,todenythetruthforfearoffeedinganevenbiggerlie.AndsherealizedthenhowdangeroustheAzhiDahakawas.Notbecauseitwassomecreatureinpursuitofgoodpeople.Therewasnopursuit.Itwasalreadythere.Insidethem.Manufacturing,dictatinglies.
Itwastheultimatetraitor.
“Thatistrue,”shesaid.
Herwordstemporarilystunnedhimintosilence.HelookedatherasthoughtryingtofigureoutwhytheAmericanSecretaryofStatewouldadmitsuchathing.
“Andhehadreasontobeafraid,”shecontinued.“NotbecausehewasIranian,butbecauseheliedaboutit.Thoughthat’snotwhywe’rehere.”
“Whyareyouhere?”
“Perhapsyou’llpermitustoremoveourburqasbeforewecontinuethisconversation.”
PresidentNasserigaveacurtnodtowardthewomanofficialwho’dmettheplanewiththeclothing.Shetookthemintoanadjoiningofficetochangeandrefresh
Ellenwasrelievedtobeoutoftheburqa,whichshefoundquitesuffocating.
“Areyouallright?”KatherineaskedAnahita,wholookedgraybutcomposed.
“Heknewalotaboutus,”saidAnahita.“Myfathersuspectedtherewerespies,butIthoughtthatwasjustparanoia.”
Shedriftedtowardthewindowthatoverlookedtheoldcity.
Katherinetookherhand.“It’sOK.”
“OK?”askedAnahita.
“Tofeelathomehere.Thatiswhatyou’refeeling,isn’tit?Despitetherun-inwithNasseri.”
AnahitasmiledatKatherineandsighed.“Isitthatobvious?HowcanIbehappyandafraidatthesametime?PartofmeisafraidbecauseI’mhappy.Doesthatmakesense?I’vebeenfrightened,evenashamed,ofIranallmylife.ButhereIamspeakingtothePresident,ofallthings.InFarsi.And”—shelookedoutthewindow—“Ifeelcomfortablehere.LikeIbelong.”SheturnedbacktoEllen.“Itdoesn’tmakesense.”
“Noteverythinghasto,”saidEllen.“Someofthemostimportantthingsinourlivesdefyreason.”
“‘Andnowhereismysecret,averysimplesecret,’”saidKatherine,squeezingAnahita’shand.“‘Itisonlywiththeheartthatonecanseerightly;whatisessentialisinvisibletotheeye.’”Shesmiledathermother.“WhenIwasakid,DadandMomusedtoreadmetosleepeverynight.MyfavoritewasTheLittlePrince.”
Ellensmiled.Howsimplethosetimeshadfelt.WithQuinnandGilandbabyKatherine.LikeAnahita,EllenAdamscouldneverhavepredictedlifewouldleadherhere.ToIran.Intotheheartoftheenemy.NevermindasSecretaryofState.Howsurprisedheryoungerselfwouldhavebeen.
Andwhileshehadnoproof,SecretaryAdamsnowknewinherheartthatAnahitaDahirwasloyaltotheUnitedStates.IronicallyitwashersayingshefeltathomeinIranthatfinallyconvincedEllen.
Aspy,atraitor,wouldneveradmitthat.
ShedoubtedtheAmericanPresidentandUSIntelligencewouldacceptherreasoning.ButtheLittlePrincewould.
Sadly,hedidnotholdtheirfatesinhistinyhands.
Ellencaughttheireyesandthenglancedtowardthefemaleofficialstandingbythedoor.
“I’msorry,”saidAnahita,inawhisper.“Ishouldn’thavesaidwhatIdidtoPresidentNasseri.Itjustmadehimangry.”
“No.”Ellen’svoicewasalsolow.“Ifaskedanything,youjustkeeptellingthetruth.”
“Ifheknowsaboutmyfather,hemustknowthatZaharaismycousin.”
“Yes.”NowwasthemomentEllenhadtodecidejusthowdangerousagameshewaswillingtoplay.Hernextwordswerespokeninanormalvoice.Foralltohear.“Buthemightnotrealizeshesentthewarningtoyou.TheymightonlyknowthatitcamefromtheAhmadihomeandwenttotheStateDepartment.”
“WhatwilltheydotoZahara?”Anahitaasked.
“Theysaythey’lltryherasaspyandtraitor,”saidEllen.
“Andwhatdotheydotospiesandtraitors?”askedKatherine.
“They’reexecuted.”
Therewassilence.
“AndiftheyfindoutaboutAnahita?”Katherineglaredathermother.“Whatwilltheydotoher?”
Ellentookadeepbreath.“Let’sjustgoonwhatweknow,andnotspeculate.”
Thoughinhergutsheknew.Andshewonderedhowbigablundershe’dmadeinbringingtheFSOwiththem.And,byraisinghervoicebeyondawhisper,howbigafiascoshe’djustcreated.
AndnowSecretaryAdams,inmodestWesterndresswithahijaboverherhairandframingherface,satacrossfromPresidentNasseriinthefeaturelessconferenceroom,inafeaturelessbuilding,designedandbuilt,Ellensuspected,bytheSovietsinthe1980s.
ShewasalsogoingontheassumptiontheRussianshadinstalledbugsandwerelisteningtoeverythingtheysaid.AswereIranianIntelligenceandtheirsecretpolice.Forallsheknew,theirownintelligenceagentswerelisteningintoo.IncludingTimothyTroubleBeecham.
ThismeetingmighthavealargeraudiencethanBigBrother.
“Youaskedwhywe’rehere.I’massumingMinisterAziz”—shenoddedtowardtheolderman—“hastoldyou.Weknowyou’reresponsibleforthebombsthatblewupthosethreebuses.”
WhenPresidentNasseribegantospeak,sheheldupherhand.
“Please,letmefinish.Thattellsusafewthings,includingyourdesperationtostopthosephysicists.WealsoknowthatBashirShahhiredthem.Whichmeansyougotinformationaboutthosephysicistsfromsomeoneclosetohim.”
“Thereisalsoagreatdealyoudon’tknow,”saidNasseri.
“That’swhyI’mhere,Mr.President.Tolistenandtolearn.”
Beforehehadachancetosaymore,PresidentNasserirose,almostleapingtohisfeet.AsdidAziz.Asdideveryoneelseintheroom,excepttheAmericans.
Ellenturnedtoseeanelderlymanentertheroom.Hehadalong,trimmedwhitebeardandblackflowingrobes.
Shealsostood,turned,andfoundherselffacingtheSupremeLeaderoftheIslamicRepublicofIran,theGrandAyatollahKhosravi.
“DearGod,”whisperedAnahita.
CHAPTER26
GilBahargrippedthedoorhandleandplacedhisotherhandontheroofofthebatteredoldtaxitosteadyhimselfasthecarheavedalongtrailsthatcouldnolongerreallybecalledroads.
Aftermorethananhourofthat,Akbarpulledoff.
“Wewalktherestoftheway.Canyoumakeit?”
ItwasclearGilwasinpain.
“Letmerest,justamoment.”
Akbargavehimabottleofwaterandsomebread,whichGiltookgratefully.Helookedathisstashofpainkillers.Twoleft.
Thenhelookedattheruggedterrainahead.Heknewwheretheywereheading,andthatthesteepslopeandjaggedrocksweretheleastofhisworries.
Hetookapill,thenremovedhisslackstochangethenowbloodydressingoverhislegwound.
“Here,”saidAkbar.“Letme.”
HetooktherollofbandagesfromGil’sshakinghandsandverycarefully,exceptionallyskillfully,cleanedthewound,puttingantisepticpowderonitbeforewindingthenewbandagearoundtheleg.
“Nasty.”
“I’mtheluckyone,”saidGil,notabletohidehisagonyevenifhewantedto.Besides,heandAkbarhadbeenthroughtoomuchtoneedtodisguisepain,ofanysort.
Withinminutes,themedicationhadkickedinandGilgottohisfeet.Hewaspalebuthadrecoveredhisstrength.
Lookingahead,hesaidtoAkbar,“Youcanwaithereifyoulike.”
“No,I’llcome.Otherwise,howwillIknowifhekillsyou?”
“Andifhekillsyoutooforbringingme?”
“ThenitisthewillofAllah.”
“Alhamdulillah,”saidGil.ThanksbetoAllah.
Thetwomensetoff.Alongthewayuptherockypath,AkbarfoundatreelimbthatcouldserveasacaneforGil,wholimpedalongbehind,recitingMuslimprayersforstrength.Andcourage.
“She’snotanswering,”saidBetsy,hervoicelow,almostagrowl.
She’daskedDenisePhelan,theRangercaptain,tostandoutinthehall.Whenshelookedsurprised,Betsyhadexplainedthattherewashighlyclassifiedmaterialtheyneededtogoover,andnooneelseshouldbeintheroom.
CaptainPhelan,understandably,lookedatPeteHamilton,thedisgracedformermouthpieceforEricDunn.
“I’vedeputizedhim,”saidBetsy,meetingandholdingthecaptain’seyes.
Itwasnonsense,ofcourse.Shemightaswellhavesaidshe’dgivenHamiltonadecoderringorautilitybelt.OrThor’shammer.
ShecouldseetheRangerhesitating.Perhapsevenbelievingit.Whowouldsaysuchapreposterousthingunlessitwastrue?
Still,evenwithPhelaninthecorridor,theykepttheirvoiceslowontheassumptiontheroomwasbugged.
DenisePhelanwasGeneralWhitehead’saide-de-camp.Whichmeantshe’dbeensenttheretowatch,notwatchover,them.Theyhadtoassumelisteningdeviceshadbeenplacedintheoffices.
BetsywasstillreelingfromtherevelationthatitwasWhitehead,notBeecham,whowasthemole,theoneworkingwithBashirShah.TheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaffwassidingwith,andprovidingvitalinformationto,terrorists.
The“why”ofitwasunfathomable,soshedidn’ttry.Thatwasforlater.RightnowsheneededtowarnEllen.
Betsycouldn’tgetthroughbyphone,sosheshotoffatext.
“Ithinkthere’satypo,”PeteHamiltonwhisperedwhenhesawwhatshe’dwritten.
Asynonymstrollsintoatavern.
“Where?”
“Thewholething.Didn’tyoumeantowrite,Whitehead’sthemole?Youseemtohavemisspelledit.”
“It’sourcodefortrouble,”saidBetsy,inhushedtones.Shenoddedtowardthecomputer.“Weneedtofindoutwhatelseisinthosedocuments.”
HamiltonsatatBoynton’sdeskandwentbacktowork.
Ellenturnedtothecleric.Ashemovedintotheroom,guardsandofficialsbowed,touchingtheirpalmstotheirhearts.
“MadameSecretary.”
“YourEminence,”saidEllen.Shehesitated,fullyawarethatwhatPresidentWilliamshadsaidwastrue.Ifaphotographshouldgetoutofhermeetingwith,nevermindbowingto,theheadofaterroriststate,therewouldbehelltopay.
EllenAdamsmadetobowanyway.Thereweremoreimportantthingsthanappearances.Likethethousandsoflivesthathunginthebalance.Dependentontheoutcomeofthismeeting.
She’ddroppedherheadbarelyaninchbeforeGrandAyatollahKhosravireachedout.Nottouchingher.Notevenclose.Butthemeaningofthegesturewasobvious
“No,”hesaid,intheslightlyreedyvoiceofamaninhiseighties.“Notnecessary.”
Ellenstoodupstraightandmethisgrayeyes.Therewascuriositythere,andgravity.Shewasn’tfooled.Herewasamanwhohadalmostcertainlyapprovedofthemurders,overtheyears,ofcountlesspeople.Andjusthoursago,tokillthreepeople,he’dorderedtheslaughterofmorethanahundredinnocentmen,women,andchildren.
Butshemetcourtesywithcourtesy.
“MayAllahbewithyou,”shesaid,andplacedherhandoverherheart.
“Andwithyou.”Hiseyesweresteady,holdinghers.Assessingher,evenassheassessedhim.
Rangedbehindtheclericwasawallofyoungermen.InthebrieftimeSecretaryAdamshadhadtodoresearchandtalkwithexpertsonmodernIran,sheknewthattheseweretheAyatollah’ssons,alongwithsomeadvisors.
ShealsoknewthattheGrandAyatollahKhosraviwasn’tjustthespiritualleaderofIran.Overthemorethanthirtyyearshe’dbeentheSupremeLeader,he’dprivatelyconsolidatedpowerwhileappearingtobe,claimingtobe,ahumblecleric.
AyatollahKhosravioversawwhatamountedtoashadowgovernment,withhisownpeoplemakingtheimportantdecisionsonIran’sfuture.Iftherewastobeachangeofdirection,howeverslight,itwouldcomefromhim.Itwashishandonthetiller.NotNasseri’s.
TheGrandAyatollahworetheflowingblackrobesandmantleofhisoffice,andanimmenseblackturbanthathaditsowncode.Thefactthatitwasblack,notwhite,declaredhewasadirectdescendentoftheProphetMohammed.Andthesizeofaturbandenotedstatus.
TheGrandAyatollah’sresembledtheouterringofSaturn.
Hewavedaveinedhand,andtheysatbackdown.KhosravitakingaseatbesidePresidentNasseriandacrossfromEllen.
“Youarehere,MadameSecretary,forinformationyoubelievewecangiveyou,”hesaid.“Andyouthinkthere’sareasonwemight.”
“Ithink,inthisinstance,ourneedsalign.”
“Andthoseneedsare?”
“TostopBashirShah.”
“Butwehavestoppedhim,”saidtheGrandAyatollah.“Hisphysicistscannolongercarryouttheirmission.”
“Whatisthatmission?”
“Tobuildnuclearbombs.I’dhavethoughtthatwasobvious.”
“Forwhom?”
“Itdoesn’tmatter.Givinganyotherpowerinthisregionanuclearbomb,ornuclearcapability,wouldbeagainstourinterests.”
“Butthereareotherswhocantaketheirplace.Youcan’tmurdereveryphysicistintheworld.”
Khosraviraisedhisbrowsandsmiledveryslightly.Asthoughsayingthathecouldand,ifneedbe,hewouldkilleverynuclearphysicistintheworld.Excepttheirown.
ButSecretaryAdamsalsoknewthathe’dcometothismeetingforareason.TherewasnowaytheSupremeLeaderoftheIslamicRepublicofIranwouldbethereunlesshewantedsomethingtoo.Neededsomething.
Andshesuspectedsheknewwhatitwas.Despitethefactthathelookedrobust,therewererumorsfromUSIntelligencethathishealthwasdeclining.KhosraviwantedhissonArdashirtosucceedhim.ButtheRussianswantedtheirownpersontoascend.Someonetheycouldcontrol.
WhichwouldmeanIranwouldbeindependentinnameonly.Itwould,inreality,becomeasatelliteofRussia.
Itwasacovertpowerstruggle.OnethiswilysurvivorofthebyzantineandoftenbrutalpoliticsoftheMiddleEastwasdeterminedtowin.Buthispresencetheretoldherhewasnolongersurehecould.
Andsohe’ddecidedtoplayeachsideagainstthemiddle.Itwasadangerousgame,andthefactthathewaswillingtoplayitspokeofdesperationandavulnerabilityhewouldneveracknowledge.
Buthedidn’thaveto.Shehaddoneitforhimbysayingthattheirneedsaligned.Shecouldseethatheunderstood.NeitherwantedRussiatowinthisstruggle.Andbothweremoredesperateandvulnerablethantheycaredtoadmit.
Itwasbetter,andworse,thanEllenhadthought.Betterbecausetherewasachanceofsuccess;worsebecausedesperateandvulnerablepeople,andstates,coulddounexpectedandevencatastrophicthings.
Likeblowupbusesfilledwithcivilianstokilloneperson.
“HowdidyouknowaboutShah’sphysicists,YourEminence?”sheasked.
“Iranhasfriendsallovertheworld.”
“Astatewithsomanyfriendssurelydoesn’tneedtocommitmassmurder.Notonlydidyoukillallthosepeopleonthebuses,butyouthentrackeddownandmurderedtheonebomberwhoescaped.Aswellashisfamily,andtwoseniorAmericanofficers.”
“YoumeantheheadofyourIntelligenceinGermanyandhisnumbertwo?”theGrandAyatollahasked.
ThefactthathewasnotpleadingignorancetoldEllenhewantedhertoknowthiswasimportantenoughforhimtopersonallyfollow,ifnotdirect.
“Andwhatwouldyouexpectustodo,”heasked,“whenallourwarningswentunheeded?Believeme,wedidnotwanttoharmallthosepeople.Andwewouldnothave,hadyouansweredourpleas.Youareasresponsibleforwhathappenedasweare.Moreso.”
“Ibegyourpardon?”
“Comenow,MadameSecretary.Iknowtherewasachangeofregime—”
“Administration.”
“—inyourcountry,butsurelythereissomecontinuityininformation.Youcan’ttellmethatI,asimplecleric,knowmorethantheSecretaryofStateforsuchagreatnation?”
“Asyouknow,I’mnewtothepostofSecretaryofState.Perhapsyoucanenlightenme.”
TheAyatollahturnedtotheyoungermansittingonhisright.Hissonandapparentsuccessor,Ardashir.
“WewarnedyourStateDepartmentaboutthephysicistsmonthsago,”Ardashirsaid.Hisvoicewassoft,almostmatter-of-fact,ashedeliveredthisbombshell.
“Isee,”saidEllen,apparentlyabsorbingtheinformationinherstride.“And?”
Heliftedhishands.“Andnothing.Wetriedseveraltimes,thinkingthatperhapsthemessageswerenotgettingthrough.Asyoucanimagine,wecouldnotuseofficialchannels.Wecanshowyouwhatwassent.”
“Thatwouldbehelpful.”Notthatsheneededtoconfirmtheirexistenceortheactualwording.Whatshewantedwerethenamesofthepeoplethewarningsweresentto.ShesuspectedTimBeechamwasone.
Shewasdesperatelytryingtoregainherbalance,thoughtheadvantagehadbeenlost.
“WhenitbecamecleartousthattheWestdidnotcare,”Ardashircontinued,“wetookmattersintoourownhands,withregret.”
“Youdidn’thavetoblowupinnocentpeople.”
“Exceptthatwedid,MadameSecretary.TheonlyinformationoursourcecouldgetwasthatthesephysicistshadbeenhiredtobuildnuclearweaponsforDr.Shah.Butwedidnotknowtheirnames.Allwehadweretheirtravelarrangements.”
“Thebuses,”saidNasseri.“Weaskedifyournetworkhadmoreinformation.Webeggedyou.Andintheendwehadnochoice.”
“WeneededDr.ShahandtheWesttoknowthissortofthreattotheIslamicRepublicofIranwouldnotbecountenanced,”saidArdashir.“Wewillnotallowanothercountryinthisregiontoacquireanuclearweapon,especiallyaftermyfatherissuedafatwaagainstallweaponsofmassdestruction.”
“Yes,”saidEllen.“Andyetyouhaveyourownnuclearphysicists.Ibelieveyou’vejustarrestedtheheadofyournuclearweaponsprogram,Dr.BehnamAhmadi.”
“No.”
“No?Nowhat?”
“No,theprogramDr.Ahmadirunsisfornuclearpower,notweapons,”saidArdashir.“Andno,wedidnotarresthim.Weaskedhimtocomeintoanswersomequestions.Buttheyoungwoman,hisdaughter?Yes.She’sunderarrest.She’llbetried,andiffoundguilty,shewillbeexecuted.”HeturnedtoAnahita.“Youarethepersonshecontacted,hercousin.Isthatnotso?”
Anahitamadetospeak,butEllengrabbedherhand.Whileshe’dadvisedtheFSOnottolie,therewasnoneedtogiveupmoreinformationthannecessary.
TherevelationthatIranhadactuallytriedtowarntheUnitedStatesaboutShah’splansandthosewarningswereignoredwasapolitical,diplomatic,andmoralcatastrophe.ItdidnotexcuseorcreateamoralequivalencywithwhatIranhaddone,butitthrewagiantwrenchintothecalculus.
Ellensearchedforsomethingtosay.“TheUnitedStatesisnowpreparedtoact—”
Thatwasmetwithamusementbytheranksofofficials,thoughitwassilencedbyanalmostinvisiblemovementbytheSupremeLeader,whogaveherhisfullattention.
“—albeitlate.”EllenturnedtoKhosravi.
ShecouldseethattheIranianshadbeenpreparedforhertoattack.Tobringupthetragicallylonglistoftheirowntransgressions.
Andshewastempted.Butshealsoknewtogiveintothatdesire,howeverlegitimate,wouldbetoonceagaindescendintothesameoldpolemic.Wherenothingwasresolved,andallcameawaycoveredinmudandbile.
“Iamverysorry,YourEminence,thatyourmessagesfellondeafears.OnbehalfoftheUnitedStatesgovernment,Iapologizeandexpressourdeepregretatignoringyourwarning.”
Sheheardagasp.NotfromtheIranians,thoughtheirsurprisewasclear.
IthadcomefromCharlesBoynton,herChiefofStaff,whowhispered,hissed,“MadameSecretary!”
Ellenimaginedallthosepeoplelistening,fromtheRussianstoAmericanIntelligence,alsogasping,atthefactthattheAmericanSecretaryofStatehadjustapologizedtotheGrandAyatollahofIran.
Butthiswascalculated.Sheknewexactlywhatshewasdoing.Shewassteadyingherselfontheknifeblade.FindingthatbalancebetweentruthanddiscretionwhilesendingasubtlemessagetotheGrandAyatollah.
Hewasexperiencedenoughtoknowthattheweakblustered,denied,lied,andstruckoutwildly.
Thepowerfuladmittedamistake,therebyrobbingitofitsholdonthem.
Onlythetrulyformidablecouldaffordtoshowcontrition.Farfromdisplayingweakness,theAmericanSecretaryofStatehaddemonstratedimmensestrengthandresolve.
TheGrandAyatollahunderstoodwhatEllenAdamshadjustdone.
Hetiltedhisheadinacknowledgment,partlyoftheapologybutmostlyofthemovethathadrobbedthemofthehighground.
“YouwantinformationonDr.Shah,”saidKhosravi.“Andwewanthimstopped.Ithink,asyousaid,MadameSecretary,ourneedsalign.Butunfortunately,wecannotgiveyouverymuchinformation.Wedon’tknowwhereShahis.Allweknowisthatheissellingnuclearsecrets,alongwiththescientistsandmaterial.”Hepausedtowipehisnosewithasilkkerchief.“Wealsobelievethatthoughwestoppeditthistime,hewillcontinueunlesshehimselfiscaught.Youletthemonsterout.Heisyourresponsibility.”
“Toreturnhimtohousearrest?”
“Iwouldnotadvocatethat,MadameSecretary.”
Ellenknewperfectlywellwhathewassaying.Whathe,theIranianState,wantedtheUnitedStatestodo.
“HowdidyougetyourinformationaboutShahandthephysicists?”sheasked.
“Ananonymoussource,”saidtheAyatollah’sson.
“Isee.WouldthatbethesamesourcewhotoldyouaboutZaharaAhmadi?”Ellenasked.
TheGrandAyatollahnoddedtowardaRevolutionaryGuardatthedoor,whoopenedit.Ayoungwoman,inabrilliantpinkrobeandhijab,walkedin.
Anahitamadetogetup,butEllenplacedahandonherlegtostopher.
Thisdidnotgounnoticed.
BehindZaharacameanolderman.Herfather,thenuclearphysicist,BehnamAhmadi.
WhenbothsawtheGrandAyatollah,theystopped.Shocked.Itwasdoubtfuleitherhadeveractuallyseenhiminthefleshexcept,perhaps,atagreatdistance.
Dr.Ahmadiimmediatelydroppedintoadeepbow,hishandoverhisheart.“YourEminence.”
Zaharafollowed,butnotbeforestaringatEllen,clearlyrecognizingtheSecretaryofState,thenatAnahita.
ThecousinslookedsomuchalikethatitwasimpossibleforZaharanottoknowwhoshewas.Butshemanagedtosaynothing,insteadbowingtotheSupremeLeader,hereyesdowninmodestyandhumility.
“Wewerejustdiscussingyou,”saidPresidentNasseri.Khosravihadgivenhimasigntotakeover.“Perhaps,MissAhmadi,you’dliketotellushowyoucametoknowaboutthebombsonthebuses.”
“Youtoldme.”
Everybrowintheroomwentup,butnonehigherthanNasseri’s.“Ididnot.”
“Notdirectly,butyousentyourscientificadvisortomyfather,andhetoldhimaboutthephysicists,andthatallyouknewwasthatthey’dbeonthoseexactbuses,atthattime.Ioverheard.Mybedroomisovermyfather’sstudy.”
Shedidn’tlookatherfatherasshespoke.Itwasclear,byheralmostrobotictone,thatshe’danticipatedthequestionandhadprepared,andrehearsed,heranswer.
Itwasalsoclearthatshewastryingtoprotectherfather.
“AndwhydidyoudecidetotelltheAmericans?”askedNasseri.
Theroombecameelectric.Heranswerwoulddecideherfuture.Ifsheadmittedit,shehadnofuture.
“Because,YourEminence,”ZaharastaredattheGrandAyatollah,“Idon’tbelievethatAllah,themerciful,thecompassionate,wouldapproveofthemurdersofinnocents.”
Andthereitwas.Afaithdeclared.Afatesealed.
“Youwouldlectureus,youwouldlecturetheGrandAyatollah,aboutAllah?”demandedNasseri.“YouknowthewillofAllah?”
“No.WhatIdoknowisthatAllahwouldnotwantinnocentmen,women,andchildrenmurdered.HadIoverheardthatyouplannedtokilljustthephysicistsinordertoprotectIran,Iwouldn’thavetriedtostopit.”
Sheturnedtolookatherfather,whoseeyeswerestillcastdown.
“Myfatherknewnothingaboutthis.”
“Well,”saidtheGrandAyatollah,“Iwouldnotsaythat,mychild.Howdoyouthinkwefoundoutwhatyou’ddone?”
Theroomgrewvery,verystill.They’dturnedintoatableau.Allstaringatfatheranddaughter.
“Baba?”
Silence.
“Daddy?Youtoldthem?”
Heliftedhiseyesandmumbledsomething.
“Louder,”demandedPresidentNasseri.
“Ihadnochoice.Mycomputerismonitored.EverysearchIdo,everymessagesentisseen.They’dhavefoundouteventually.Ihadtodoit,toprotectyourbrotherandsister.Toprotectyourmother.”
“Heprovedhisloyalty,”saidNasseri.
ThoughEllennotedthelookofdisgustonthefaceofboththeGrandAyatollahandMinisterAziz.Loyaltytothestatemightcomefirst,buttobetrayyourfamilyspokevolumesaboutthecharacteroftheperson.Andnoneofitgood.
Dr.BehnamAhmadimightsurvivehisdaughter,buthischaracterwouldnot.
Zaharaturnedawayfromhim.
SecretaryAdamsturnedawayfromhim.
TheGrandAyatollahandeveryoneelseintheroomturnedawayfromBehnamAhmadi
Eventsweremovingquicklynow,fallingintoplaceevenastheyfellapart.
Ellenhadtothinkquickly.Hadtoactquicklyifanythingwastobesalvaged.
“Weneedtolookahead,notback,”saidEllen,draggingtheirattentionawayfromtheyoungwoman.Shewouldfigurethatoutlater.“TheUnitedStatesispreparedtoact,buttodothatIneedinformationonShah.Hislocation.Hisplans.Howfaralongheis.Ineedtoknowyoursource.”
EllenheldtheAyatollah’sgaze,tryingtosendamessage.TryingtotellhimshewasawarethattheRussianswerealmostcertainlylisteningin.Thatsomuchofwhatwasbeingsaidinthatroomwasfortheirbenefit.Sheknewhecouldnotpossiblytellher,evenifhehadtheinformation.Butperhapshecouldsendhersomesign.
Something.Anything.
HemustknowwheretheinformationaboutShahcamefrom.IthadtobesomeonecloseenoughtoShahtogetitright.Butnotsoclosethathehadalltheinformation.
TheGrandAyatollah’sunwillingnesstotellheralmostcertainlymeantthesourcewasRussian.Butnotthestate.Ifitwas,Khosraviwouldhavenotroubletellingher.Afterall,hewouldn’tberevealinganythingRussianIntelligencedidn’talreadyknow.
So,thoughtEllen.ThesourcewasRussian.ButnotRussia.Thatleftjustoneotherpossibility.
TheGrandAyatollahheldhergaze.“YoureadyourchildrenTheLittlePrince.Ialsoreadtomychildren.”
Ellenwascompletely,utterlyfocused.Hernervestingling.He’djustquietlyconfirmedthattheyhadindeedoverheardeverythingshe,Katherine,andAnahitahadsaidwhilechangingoutoftheburqas.
IncludingSecretaryAdams’sdeliberateadmission,suspectingthey’dbemonitored,thatAnahitahadbeentherecipientofhercousin’smessage.
Itwasacalculatedrisk,andEllenwasabouttofindoutifhercalculationswerecorrect.
NothingtheSupremeLeadersaidnowwaswithoutlayersofmeaning.
Theelderlyclericturnedtohissons.“YourfavoriteswerealwaysthePersianFablesofBidpai.”Heliftedhislimprightarmwithhisleft,andEllenrememberedthathe’dbeenbadlyinjuredinabombattackyearsago,andhadlosttheuseofthatarm.Nowhecradledit,asthoughitwereachild,andturnedbacktoher.“Doyouknowthefableaboutthecatandtherat?”
“I’msorry,”shesaid.“Idonot.”Ithadnotescapedhernoticethathe’dusedtheoldwordfortheircountry,“Persia.”
“Alargecat,let’ssayalion,wascaughtinahunter’snet.”Hisvoicewaslow,soothing.Hiseyessharp.“Aratwasjustcomingoutofitsholeandsawthis.Thelionbeggedtherattonibblethroughtheropesandfreehim,buttheratrefused.”Theclericsmiled.“Hewasawiseoldthingandfearedthat,oncefreed,thelionwouldeathimbecausethat’swhatlionsdid.Butthecatpleaded,anddoyouknowwhattheratdid?”
“He—”Nasseribegan,butwasstoppedbyAziz.
“Ibelieve,Mr.President,thatwasdirectedattheAmericanSecretaryofState.”
Ellenthought.Shesuspectedthiswasthemessage,thecode.Butshecouldn’tworkitout.
“Idonot,YourEminence”—andsaw,tohersurprise,alookofapproval.
“Thewilyratnibbledthroughtherope,butnotalltheway.Heleftastrand,onebitethick,sothatthecatwasstilltrapped.Theycouldhearthehunterapproaching.Hewasgettingcloserandcloser.”
Theothersintheroomdisappeared,andallthatremainedweretheSupremeLeaderoftheIslamicRepublicofIranandtheAmericanSecretaryofState.
GrandAyatollahKhosraviloweredhisvoiceandseemedtospeakdirectlyintoEllen’sear.
“Theratwaiteduntilthelionwasdistractedbytheapproachofthehunterandthen,atthelastminute,hebitthefinalstrand,freeingthecat.Intheinstantbeforethecatrealizedhewasfree,theratescapeddownhishole.Thenthelion,freed,escapedupthetree.”
“Andthehunter?”askedEllen.
“Wasleftempty-handed.”TheAyatollahshrugged,thoughhisdarkeyesneverlefthers.
“Ormaybe,”saidEllen,“hewaseatenbythelion.Becausethat’swhatlionsdo.”
“Maybe.”TheGrandAyatollahturnedtotheRevolutionaryGuard.“Arresther.”
Ellenfroze.TheguardtookasteptowardZahara.
“Nother,”saidKhosravi.“Her.Thetraitor’sdaughter.Theonewhoreceivedthemessage.”
Anahitastumbledtoherfeet.Ellenleaptupandsteppedinfrontofher.“No!”
“Youdidn’treallythink,Mrs.Adams,”saidAzizastheRevolutionaryGuardpushedherasideandrippedAnahitafromEllen’sgrip,“thatwewouldallowaspy,atraitor,tostrollintoIran,intoameetingwiththehighestlevelsofgovernment,withoutconsequence.Weknowwhotheratsare.”
“I’msorry,”saidtheGrandAyatollah,gettingtohisfeetandleavingtheroom.
CHAPTER27
AK-47swerepointedatthemfromthemountainlookoutsasGilandAkbarslowlyapproachedthePathanencampment.Theycouldn’tseethefighters,buttheyknewtheywerethere.
NowinregionalPashtundress,bothmenheldtheirarmsout,andGildroppedthebranchhe’dbeenusingasacane,incaseitwasmistakenforarifle.
Besidehim,Akbarwasbreathingheavilyfromboththeclimbalongtheruggedfootpathsandfear.Gil’slimpwasmorepronounced,andhewincedwitheverystep.
Butstill,theymovedforward.
Anarmedguardapproached,andbehindhimcameafamiliarfigure.Themachinegunwasleveledatthetwonewcomers.GilandAkbarstopped.
“As-SalamAlaikum,”saidGilBahar.“Peacebeuponyou.”
“Wa-Alaikum-as-Salam,”saidthemanwhowasclearlyincharge,thecommanderofthePathancamp.AnduponyouPeace.
Therewasamoment’stension.Theyoungerman,holdingtherifle,grippedittighter,awaitinginstructions.Withhisbacktothecommander,hecouldnotseetheslightsmilethathadappearedonhisbeardedface.
“Youarenotlookingatallwell,myfriend,”thecommandersaid.
“Butbetter,Ihope,thanwhenIlastsawyou.”
“Well,youstillhaveyourhead.”
“Thankstoyou.”
TheguardloweredhisweaponastheguerrillacommandermovedpasthimandembracedGil,kissinghimthreetimes.
Gilsteppedbackandheldthemanatarm’slength,studyinghim.
He’dfilledout,grownmuscular.Inhisearlythirties,hewasnolongerthefresh-facedkidGilhadfirstmet.Butthen,neitherwasGil.
Theman’sfacewasweatheredandcareworn,bearded,hishairlongandheldbackfromhisface.HeworetheuniformoftheAfghanfighter.AhybridofIslamicdressandWesternmilitaryclothing.
“Howareyou,Hamza?”
“Alive.”Thecommanderlookedaround;then,puttinghislargehandonGil’sshoulder,hesaid,“Come.It’sgettinglate,andwhoknowswhatappearsoutofthedarkness.”
“Ithoughtyouownedthenight,”saidGilashefollowed.
“Iownnothing.”HamzaheldbacktheflapofthetentforGiltoenterwhileAkbarremainedoutside.
“Yes,IseeyouarethesamesimplemanIleftbehind,”saidGil,surveyingtheboxesofexplosivesandgrenadesandlongwoodencrateswithAvtomatKalashnikovastampedonthem.
AK-47s.AlltheboxeshadRussianwriting.
Hamzaorderedthemeninthetenttoleave,thenpouredthembothteafromasamovar.
“Thankfully,noteverythingfromtheRussiansismeanttokill,”hesaid,liftinghisglassofsweetteainatoast.Thenhegrewgrave.“Youshouldnothavecome.”
“Iknow.I’msorry.Iwouldn’thaveiftherewasanyotherway.”
HamzanoddedtowardGil’sleg,whichwasweepingbloodagain.“Whathappened?Didyoutrytostopher?”
“Thenuclearphysicist?No.IfollowedDr.BukharifromtheflightoutofPakistan,whereyousaidshe’dbe,toFrankfurt.IwasjusthopingtofollowhertoShahandfindoutwhathe’supto.Butthebusshewasonwasbombed.”
Hamzanodded.“Iheardabouttheexplosions.Theyhaven’tsaidwhyithappened,orwhodidit,butIwondered.”HestaredatGil.“Whyareyouhere?”
“I’msorry,Hamza.Ineedmoreinformation.”
“Ican’tgiveyoumore.I’vealreadysaidfartoomuch.Ifanyonefindsout…”
Gilleanedforwardonthelargepillowonthegroundwherehewassitting,wincingslightlyashedid.“YouandIbothknowthattheonlywayyou’llbesafeisifShahistakenout.Hemustknowbynowthatsomeonebetrayedhim.Itwon’tbelongbeforeheputsitalltogetherandcomesafteryou.”
“Amiddle-agePakistaniscientistclimbingthatmountain,pastmyguards?IthinkI’msafe.”
“YouknowwhatI’msaying.Andyouknowwhohe’llsend.”Gillookedbehindhim,atthecrates.“I’msorry.”
“IhavenothingtodowithShah.Ionlypassedalongarumoraboutthosephysicists.”
“True,butsomeonetoldyouaboutthem.”WhenHamzashookhishead,Gillookedaround.“Ineedmore.”
“Youneedtoleave.It’stoolatenow,butfirstthinginthemorning.”Hamzagotup.“Ihavenothingmoretosay.Ihelpedyouescapeyearsago.Don’tmakemeregretit.MaybeAllahmeantforyoutobebeheaded.Idon’twanttohavetofollowthroughonHiswishes.”
“Youdon’tbelievethat,”saidGil,remainingwherehewas.“YouletmegobecausewespentmonthstogetherstudyingtheQur’an.YoutaughtmethewordoftheProphetMohammed.ThattrueIslamisaboutpeacefulcoexistence.That’swhyyouwantedtostopShah.Andstilldo.”
InhiscaptivityGilhadbeguntolistentotheguards,begantopickoutwords,phrases.BegantotalktotheguardsintheirownPashtolanguage.Untilonenighttheyoungest,theonewhobroughthimhismeals,answered.
Afterafewmonthstheyoungmansatand,atGil’srequest,taughthimArabicphrases,thelanguageoftheQur’an.TheytalkedaboutIslam.TheyreadtheQur’antogether,andGillearnedabouttheteachingsoftheProphet.Andovertime,hefellinlovewithwhattheProphet,whatIslam,hadtosayasawayoflife
Andovertime,astheydiscussedit,Hamza’sviewssoftened,andhesawhowtheradicalclericshadtwistedthewords,themeanings,totheirownends.
Inthecoverofnight,aftertheFrenchjournalisthadbeenbeheaded,HamzahadslippedGil’sbondsfromhiswristsandankles,andreleasedhim.They’dstayedintouch,covertly.Theirownbondsstrong.
“Iknowyouwillnotkillinnocentmen,women,andchildren,”saidGil.“Othercombatants,yes,butAllahwouldnotwantinnocentskilled.That’swhyyoutoldmeaboutShahandthephysicists.Arifleisonething”—heturnedtothecratesfilledwithAK-47sbehindthem—“butweaponsofmassdestructionthatkillindiscriminatelyaresomethingelse.Ineedmoreinformation.Tostopit.”Gilleanedforwardonthelargepillowonthefloorofthetent,grittinghisteethagainstthepaininhisleg.“IfShah’sclientsbuildanuclearbombanditgoesoff,itwillkillthousands.AndwhatwillAllahsaythen?”
“Areyoumockingmybeliefs?”
Gillookedstruck.“No,notatall.They’remybeliefstoo.That’swhyIcameallthisway,upthatdamnedmountain.Toseeyou.Totrytostopit.Please.I’mbeggingyou,Hamza.Helpme.”
Theystaredateachother.Muchthesameage,they’dgrownupaworldapart,butfatehadbroughtthemtogether,likebrothers.Likekindredspirits.Perhapsforthisveryreason,forthisverymoment.
Hamzawasnothisrealname.He’dadopteditwhenhe’djoinedthefighters.Itmeant“Lion.”
AndwhileGilwashisrealname,itwasnothisfullname.MostassumeditwasGilbert.Butinthedeadofnight,astheprisonerandhiskeeperdiscussedtheQur’an,Gilhadtoldhimhissecret.
HisfullnamewasGilgamesh.
“OhmyGod.”Hamza’slaughhadborderedonthehysterical.“Gilgamesh?Howdidthathappen?”
“MyfatherstudiedancientMesopotamiaatuniversityandwouldreadmymotherpoetry.HerfavoritewastheepicGilgamesh.”
GildidnottellHamzathatonhiswallgrowingupwasaposterfromtheLouvre.ItwasofastatuelootedcenturiesearlierfromasiteintheancientMesopotamiancityofDur-Sharrukin.ItwasacarvingofGilgamesh,theherooftheepic.Hewasholdingaliontohischest.Theirspirits,theirfatesintertwined.
ThatsitehadbeendestroyedbyISISintherecentwars.Sowhathadlookedlikelootinghadactuallysavedmanyartifacts.
Saviors,Gilgameshhadcometoappreciate,cameinunexpectedforms.Andoftendidnotinitiallyappeartobesaviors.Justtheopposite.Saviorscouldbequiteunsavory,andmonsterscouldbecompelling,makingtheworstseemthebest.Likethoseradicalclerics.Likeunscrupulouspoliticalleaders.
Nowthetwomen,GilgameshandtheLion,satinthetentinthetwilight,facingeachother.Facingadecision.
CHAPTER28
“Mom,what’rewegoingtodo?Wecan’tleaveAnabehind.”
KatherinewasfollowinghermotherasEllenpacedtheofficewherethey’dbeenplacedandtoldtochangebackintoburqas.Andpreparetoleave.
Itwasthesameroomthey’dusedtochangeoutoftheirburqasathousandyearsago.
“Idon’tknow,”saidEllen.Thatmuchwastrue,andprobablynotasurprisetotheIraniansandRussianswhowerealmostcertainlylisteningin.
SecretaryAdamsstoppedherpacingtostareatAnahita’sburqa.Itwaslyingonthecouch,theflattenedformofahuman.Asthoughthewomanhaddisappearedsosuddenlyshe’dlefthershadowbehind.
ItremindedEllenofthoseterribleimagesofHiroshimaandNagasakiaftertheatombombshaddroppedandthepeoplevaporized,leavingjustadarkoutlinebehind.
DearLord,Ellenprayed.DearGod,helpme.
SecretaryAdamsstaredattheblackoutlineofAnahita’sburqaandfeltherselfclutchingthinair.Frantictohaltherfall.
Shewasdesperatenow.HowtostopShah,andalsogetherFSOandZaharaAhmadireleasedandoutofIran?
Thingshadnotimprovedwithhervisit.Infact,they’dgottenconsiderablyworse.
Atleastonthesurface.
Ellenresumedherpacing,aroundandaroundthewallsoftheroom,likeagreatcattrapped.Shehadthefeelingshealreadyhadwhatsheneeded.ThattheGrandAyatollahhadgivenhertheinformation,thetools,todowhatneededtobedone.Evenashe’darrestedherFSO,effectivelytakingAnahitahostageandtyingtheSecretaryofState’shands.
Whatwasheupto?
ArrestingtheAmericanFSOhadbeenasurprise.Ashock.Itwasanaggression,aprovocation.Itmadenosense,onthesurface.
SowhyhadtheGrandAyatollahKhosravidoneit?Andwhatdidhewanthertodonow?Shedidnothavemanyoptions.Whatshecouldn’tdowasleavewithoutAnahitaDahir,andwithoutinformationonBashirShah.Hemustknowthat.
AndyethewasthrowingheroutofIran.Empty-handed.
ShestoppedherpacinginfrontofthewindowandlookedoutattheIraniancapital.
Thecat-and-ratstoryclearlymeantsomething.Itwasmorethananallegory.Butwhowasthecatinthestory,andwhotherat?
Andwhywouldtheonehelptheother?Becausetheyhadatemporarycommonpurpose.Todefeatthehunter.TodefeatDr.BashirShah.
SowhyarrestAnahitaDahir?
Why?
Nothingthatshrewdmansaidordidwaswithoutlayersofmeaningandpurpose.
“Mom,”saidKatherine,hervoicebetrayinghergrowinganxiety,“youhavetodosomething.”
“Iamdoingsomething.I’mthinking.”
Therewasatapatthedoor.
“MadameSecretary,”saidSteveKowalski,herDiplomaticSecurityofficer.“Youhaveatextmessagefromyourcounselor.”
Ellenwasabouttoaskhimtopleaseleavethemalonesoshecouldthink.ButthensherememberedBetsy’scall.Andnowatext.Thismustbeurgent.
Ellenaskedforherphone.
“Whatisit?”Katherineasked.
Ellen,alreadypalefromthestressesofaninterminableday,lostwhatlittlecolorshehadleftasshereadBetsy’smessage.
Asynonymstrollsintoatavern.
Trouble.Bigtrouble.
Adyslexicwalksintoabra,Ellentyped.Theprearrangedresponsetosayitwasindeedher,andsheunderstoodthatsomethingterriblehadhappened.
Thereplycamewithinmoments.Betsyhadobviouslybeenstaringathersecurephone,waitingforEllen.
Thetraitorisn’tBeecham.It’sWhitehead.
Ellensankintoachair.Herfreefallhadended.She’dhitrockbottom.
Shewastemptedtowrite,Areyousure?ButknewBetsywouldbeabsolutelycertainbeforesendingthat.
Insteadshewrote:Areyouallright?
Yes.ButWhitehead’sRangerisoutsidethedoor.
Ellenfeltherheartcontract.She’daskedBetsytocontacttheofficer.Andnow…
Proof?
Memos.WhiteheadapprovedthereleaseofShah.Approvedandsupportedit.
Ellenexhaled.He’dlied.
SherememberedWhitehead’ssmallglancewhenTimBeechamhadlefttheOvalOfficetomakeacall.IthadhelpedconfirmtoEllenthattheChairoftheJointChiefsdidnottrusttheDirectorofNationalIntelligence.
Nowshesawit,andahundredotherlittlethings,forwhattheywere.Notjustsubtle,butsly.Hewasquietlyundermining,assassinating,TimBeecham.Thedeathbyathousandartfulglances.
Whatdoesheknow?Ellenwrote.
EverythingIknow.
Whichwasprettymucheverything.ExceptwhathadhappenedinIran.Andhemightknowthat.Hemightbelistening.
EllenrealizedthatWhitehead,withhissecurityclearance,must’vebeeninvolvedinhidingallofBeecham’sfiles,knowinghowdamningthatwouldappear,whileatthesametimeremovinganythingincriminatingabouthisownrole.Thisplanhadn’tjustbeenthrowntogether.Itmusthavebeenmonths,maybeyears,inthemaking.AllthroughtheDunnadministration,whentherewasinternalchaosandalmostnooversight.
ButGeneralWhiteheadhadmissedonereferencetohimself.Anespeciallydamningone.Thatstruckherasodd.Somucheffort,buttheymissedthatmushroomcloudofamessage?
Butthatthoughtwasoverwhelmedandovertakenbytheother.
BertWhitehead?Atraitor?InleaguewithBashirShah?Givinginformationtoterrorists?WhywouldtheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaffdothat?
He’dbetrayedhiscountry.He’dbeenapartytomassmurder.He’dliedateveryturn.
GeneralAlbertWhitehead,theChairoftheJointChiefs,wastheAzhiDahaka.
FredMacMurraywasthedevil.
GeneralWhiteheadknewifShahwassuccessful,thousands,perhapshundredsofthousands,wouldbeturnedintoshadows.
Herphonevibratedwithanothermessage.ThisonefromGil.
Havetogo,shewroteBetsy.Becareful.
Shelookedcloserandsawthatthemessagefromhersonhadcomeinfromasourceshedidn’trecognize,butthesubjectlineread,FromGil.Insteadofhisusualcurttext,Gilhadwrittenhismotheranemail.
No,Ellenrealizedassheopenedit.He’dwrittentotheUSSecretaryofState.
Shereaditthrough,andwhenshefinished,thephoneslippedthroughherfingerstodropinherlap.
GilwasinAfghanistan,closetothePakistanborder.InPathan-controlledterritory.Wherehe’dbeenheldbefore.DearLord.
Hehadtheinformationtheyneeded.
ThethreePakistaninuclearphysicistsassassinatedinthebusbombsweredecoys.Diversions.UndistinguishedscientistshiredbyBashirShahwiththesolepurposeofbeingslaughtered.TomaketheWestbelievethedangerhadpassed.Orthat,attheveryleast,theyhadtime.
When,infact,timehadrunout.
Gil’ssourcehadtoldhimthattherealnuclearphysicistshadbeenrecruitedseveralyearsearlier.Top-flightscientists,apparentlyonsabbaticalbutinrealityhiredouttoShah,who’drentedthemtoathirdparty,almostcertainlyAl-Qaeda.TosetupanuclearweaponsprograminsideAfghanistan.
Ellenstoodupsoabruptlythechairfellover.Shethought,quickly.Thenwrote,Callme.
Gilhadborrowedthephonefromsomeoneheclearlytrusted.AnAkbarsomeone.Itwouldnotbetapped.Andherphonewassecure.Still,theroomwasalmostcertainlybugged.Shehadtobecarefulwhatshesaid.
They’dhavetwo,maybethreeminutesbeforethecallwasintercepted.
“Timetwominutes,”shewhisperedtoKatherine,whosawtheurgencyandforoncedidn’taskquestions.
Ellenpickedupthecallbeforethefirstringwascomplete.“Tellmewhere.”
“Shah’sphysicists?Idon’tknowexactly.SomeplacealongthePakistan-Afghanborder.Wouldn’tbeacaveoracamp.Wouldhavetobesomeabandonedfactory.”
Itwasalongborder,alotofterritory,butGilcouldnotbemorespecific.
“Size?”Shewastryingtokeephervoicelow,andherstatementsvague.
“Don’tknow.Anythingfromdirtybombsinaknapsacktosomethingbigger.Couldtakeoutafewblocksorawholecity.”
Katherineheldupafinger.Oneminutegone.Oneminuteleft.
“Plural?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Therewaswhatfeltlikeaninterminablepausebeforeheanswered,“US.”
“Where?”
“Cities.Idon’tknowwhich.Morearebeingmade.IthinktheRussianmafia’ssupplyingthematerialstoShah.”
Thatmadesense,thoughtEllen,hermindracing.Makingconnections.NottheRussiangovernment.Notofficially.ButtheRussianPresidentandhisoligarchshadtiestothemob,andtheyhadpersonallysharedinthebillionsmadefromsellingeverythingfromweaponstohumanbeings.
TheRussianmafiawascompletelywithoutideology,withoutscruples.Withoutbrakes.Whattheydidhavewerearms,contacts,money.Theywouldsellanyoneanything.Fromplutoniumtoanthrax.Fromchildsexslavestoorgans.
They’dgetintobedwiththedevil,thenmakehimbreakfast,ifnecessary.
ShahhadtouseathirdpartytotipofftheIraniansaboutthephysicists.WhobetterthananinformantworkingforboththeRussianmafiaandIranianIntelligence?
TheRussianmafiawasthelink,connectingIranandShah.Thewraiththatmovedbetweenthetwo.
“Mom—”saidGil.
“Yes?”
“Thechatteristhatthey’realreadythere.Inthecities.Thebombs.That’swhyShahhadthephysicistskilledinEurope,toshiftfocusawayfromtheUS.Tomakeusthinkthenextattack,thebigone,wouldalsobeinEurope.”
Katherinewascirclingherfinger.Itwastime.
Buttherewasonemorequestion.
“When?”
“Soon.That’sallIknow.”
Ellenhungupandmuttered,“Fuck.”
AtextcameinforBetsy.
ShewasblearywiththeneedforsleepandhadtoldPeteHamiltontobreakforafewhours’rest.HewascurledonthecouchinCharlesBoynton’soffice,deadtotheworld,whileBetsylayonEllen’scouchandstaredattheceiling.
Herbodywasdrainedbuthermindcontinuedtowhirl.BertWhitehead.Themole.TheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff,afour-starGeneral,aveteranofthebloodyAfghanandIraqwars,atraitor.
Andthencamethetext.
Can’tsleep.AnymoreinfoonBeecham?IneedtotellthePresident.
ForamomentBetsythoughtitwasfromElleninTehran,butquicklyrealizeditwasfromWhitehead.
Nothing,shewrote,herfingersshakingfromexhaustionandrage.Takingabreaktosleep.Suggestyoudothesame.
Andthen,beforeshecouldlayherheaddownagain,anothermessagearrived,thistimefromEllen.She’dforwardedamessagefromGil.
Betsyreadit,thenmuttered,“Darn.”
BashirShah’splanelandedinthedeadofnight,andhewasdriventohishomeinIslamabad,thelittle-usedbackwayin,throughthegarden.
He’dlefttheUSjustadayaheadofwhenhe’dplannedto.Whenhehadto.
Justoveradayaheadofwhentheworldchangedforever.
“IsEllenAdamsstillinTehran?”hedemandedofhislieutenant.
“Asfarasweknow.”
“That’snotgoodenough.Ineedcertainty,andIneedtoknowwhoshe’smetwithandwhatshe’sbeentold.”
Fifteenminuteslater,asShahpreparedforbed,hislieutenantcamewiththeinformation.
“ShemetwithPresidentNasseri.”
“And?”Shahcouldseetherewasmore,butthemanwasafraidtotellhim.
“AndtheGrandAyatollah.”
“Khosravi?”Shahglared,andhislieutenantnodded,hiseyeswide.
“Shewastoldnothing.”
“Nothing?”
“No.Andoneofhergroup,theFSO,hasbeenarrestedasaspy.”
Shahsatdownonthesideofhisbed,tryingtoseeit.Thisdidn’tmakesense.
“TheGrandAyatollahtoldhersomestoryaboutacatandarat.It’safable.Somethinghereadhiskids.”
“I’mnotinterestedinthat.Ineedtoknoweverythingshedoes.”
What,thoughtShahashebrushedhisteeth,wasKhosraviupto?WhatwasEllenAdamsupto?
IshouldhavekilledherwhenIhadthechance.
Fortunatelyhersonwillsoonbedead,andshe’llknowitwashisdoingandherfault.
Hespatintothesink,thenwenttohislaptopandfoundtheoldPersianfableofthecatandrat.Itwasaboutunlikelyalliances,hesaw.Thatmuchwasobvious.Butitwasalsoaboutthehunt.Andmisdirection.
BashirShahslowlyloweredthelidofthecomputer.Hewas,heknew,muchtooexperiencedahuntertobetricked.Hewouldgetboththecatandtherat.
“Weneedtoleave,”saidAkbar.“Weshoulddoitnow.”
“Areyoukidding?”saidGil.“It’sdark.Themountainsarecrawlingwithmujahedin.IfHamza’sfightersdon’tkillusbymistake,theywill.Look,Iwanttogetouttoo,butit’llhavetowaituntilfirstlight.”Giltookacloserlookathiscompanion.TherewasnomistakingthefactthatAkbarwasantsy,nervous.“Whyareyousoanxioustoleave?”
Akbarlookedbehindhim.Theywereintheirowntent.Hamzahadarrangedforfoodanddrink,andnowGilwassettlinginforsleep,hiswholebodyaching.
“Ijusthaveabadfeelingaboutthis,”saidAkbar.
Hewrappedthewoolenblanketaroundhimselfandleanedagainstthetentpoleand,forthehundredthtime,feltforthelongknifehiddeninthefoldsofhisclothing.
CHAPTER29
“MadameSecretary,”saidCharlesBoynton.HerChiefofStaffhadknocked,thenentered.“TheSultanofOman’sjetisready.TheIraniansareinsistingyouleave.”
Hislankyformstoodbythedoor,uncertain.
BoththeSecretaryofStateandherdaughterwerestandingbythewindow,lookingasthoughthey’dhadthefrightoftheirlives.
“Whatisit?”heasked,takinganotherstepinsidetheroomandclosingthedoor.
EllenhadforwardedGil’smessage,addingsomeofthedetailshe’dtoldheronthephone,tobothKatherineandBetsy.She’dconsideredsendingittoPresidentWilliamsandTimBeecham,buthesitated.
GeneralWhiteheadcouldnotbeworkingalone.HehadtohavecollaboratorsinthehighestechelonsoftheWhiteHouse,perhapseventhecabinet.Ifshesentit,anditwasintercepted,they’dknowthattheplothadbeendiscovered.Andratherthanriskbeingcaught,theymightsetoffthebombsprematurely.
No.EllenknewshehadtotellPresidentWilliamsprivately.Inperson.
ButherworkinIranwasn’tdone.Theyhadtogetmoreinformation.SomeonewassupplyingShahwithnuclearmaterials,probably,asGilsaid,theRussianmafia
AndsomeonehadtoldtheIraniansaboutthephysicists.
Again,probablyanIranianinformantworkingwiththemafia.They’ddeliberatelyleakedtheinformationsothatNasseriandtheAyatollahwoulddoexactlywhatShahwanted.They’dmurderhisphysicists.
ThatpersonmightknowaboutShah’slargerplans.Maybeevenhiswhereabouts.AndthatinformantwasprobablystillinIran.Iftheycouldjustfindhim,orher.
“Whatisit?”Boyntonrepeated.“MadameSecretary?”
“Mom?”saidKatherine.
Ellenbroughtherhanduptohermouthandtiltedherheadback,staringattheceiling.Trying,tryingtoseeit.
Ifshe’dfiguredthisallout,sohadtheGrandAyatollah.HeneededherhelptostopShah.Andsheneededhishelptostoptheterroristattacks.
DidKhosraviknowwhotheinformantwas?Ifso,hecouldn’tpossiblytellher.Notoutright.Theireveryword,everyaction,wasbeingmonitored.
Sohehadtogethertheinformationanotherway.
That’swhatthestoryofthecatandrathadbeenabout.Mutualinterests.Butitwasalsoaboutmisdirection.Distraction.Lookingonewaywhiletheimportantthingwashappeningsomewhereelse.
“DidtheysayIneededtoleave?”sheaskedBoynton.“Orwedid?”
Heseemedconfusedbythequestion.“Isn’titthesamething?”
“Please,humorme.Trytorememberexactlywhattheofficialsaid.”
Boyntonconsidered.“Hesaid,‘PleaseinformSecretaryAdamsthatsheneedstoleaveIran,ontheordersoftheGrandAyatollah.’”
“Well,thatseemsprettyclear,”saidKatherine.
“Iwonder,”saidEllen,thenturnedbacktoherChiefofStaff.“Holdthemoff.”
Hegaveasnortofunexpectedlaughter.“Atthepass?”Butseeinghisboss’sseriousexpression,hisfacefell.
“Stallthem,”saidSecretaryAdams.
“Stallthem?”demandedBoynton,hisvoicealmostasqueal.“How?”
“Justdoit.”
Sheallbutshovedhimoutthedoor.Asitclosed,sheheardherChiefofStafftelltheIranianofficialthatthey’dberightout.“Smalldelay.Women’sissues.”Thensheheardhimask,“Doyouhavewomen’sissueshere?”
WemightnothaveasmuchtimeasIhoped,thoughtEllen.
Shetriedtocalmhermind.ToputasideGeneralWhiteheadasthemole.
ToputasidewhatGilhadsaid.ThatnuclearbombswerealmostcertainlyalreadyinAmericancities.Readytogooff.Soon.
Eachbeatofherheartfeltlikethetickingdownoftheclock.
Sheclosedhereyesandtookadeepbreathin.Adeepbreathout.Trytoseethenextmove,shetoldherself.Shutoutallthenoise,alltheinterference.Seeclearly…
“Mom?”
Silence.Thenhereyesflewopen.
Herheartbegantobeatmorequickly.Poundingagainstherribcage.BigBen,countingthepreciousmoments.Racingtowardthechimesatmidnight.
Hermindracedalongsideherheart.Almostthere.Almostthere.
Andthenshehadit.WhattheGrandAyatollahmeant.
Ellenstrodeacrosstheroomandthrewopenthedoor.Asshedid,sheheardBoyntonandthepoorIranianofficialtalkingaboutwhattreetheProphetmighthavebeen,hadhebeenatree.
Shesuspectedshe’dinterruptedmomentsbeforeherChiefofStaffwasalsoarrested,forblasphemy.
“Charles!”
Helookedather,likeafishonahook.“Yes?”
“Comein.”
Hedidn’tneedtobeaskedtwice.
“Ineedtoleave,”shesaidassheshutthedoorbehindhim.“Now.”
“Yes,that’swhatIsaid,”saidBoynton.
“Andyouneedtostay.”
“Huh?”
“YouandKatherine.”
Theystaredather.
“Wecan’tleaveAnahita,”Ellenexplained,hervoiceatanormalregister.Makingsureallthoselisteningincouldhearher.“IneedtoreturntoDCandtalkwithPresidentWilliamsaboutthesituation.Gethisinstructions.YouneedtostayinIranuntilIreturn.Inthemeantime,youshouldheadoutsightseeing.”
Bothlookedatherasthoughshe’dlosthermind.
“There’llbepeoplefollowingyou.Mightaswelltakethemonawild-goosechase.Makethemthinkyou’reuptosomething.GoseePersepolis.Or,wait,betterstill,asktoseetheprehistoriccaveartofBaluchestan.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”saidKatherine.
“Iwasreadingaboutitonthewayhere,”Ellenexplained.“Archaeologistsfoundcavedrawingsthere.Eleventhousandyearsold.SomebelieveitprovesthatthousandsofyearsagoIraniansmigratedtotheAmericas.”
“What?”saidKatherine,completelylostnow,whileBoyntontookthebetterpartofvalor.
“ThedrawingsshowthesamehorsethattheIndigenouspeoplesofNorthAmericarode.Itmakessensethatyou’dwanttoseeit.”
“Doesit?”Boyntonspokeatlast.“Doesitreally?”
“Sure,asanodtothebeliefthatwe’reallonepeople.Look,thepointistoleadwhoevermightbefollowingyouonamerrychase.”
“Merry?”saidBoynton.
“Well,amorosechase,ifyouprefer.”
WhileBoyntonlookeduptherockart,Katherinedroppedhervoicetoawhisperedrasp.“Mom,thebombs.WhatGiltoldyou.Wecan’twastetime.”
“I’mnot.”Ellenheldherdaughter’seyes,andKatherinesawthedeterminationthere.
“Thatsiteisalmosttwentyhoursawaybycar,”saidBoynton,lookingupfromhisphone.
“I’msuretheycanflyyoutoanearbyairport,thendrive,”saidEllen,revertingtohernormalvoiceonceagain.Orasnormalasshecouldmanage.“Youcansleepontheway,andanyoneinterestedinyourmovementswillwasteevenmoretimeandeffortfollowingyou.”
“Butwe’llalsobewastingtimeandeffort,”Boyntonprotested.
Katherinelookedathermother,whoseeyeswerebloodshotfromexhaustionbutgleaming.Withbrillianceormadness,Katherinecouldn’ttell.HadGil’smessage,andthepressureoftryingtostopacatastrophe,pushedherrightovertheedge?
“Anahita?”Katherineasked.“AndZahara?Whatdoyouwantustodotohelpthem?”
“AndthetwoIranianswhowerealsoarrested?”askedCharles.
“I’llseewhatPresidentWilliamswantstodo.Thesedecisionsgobeyondme.I’llgetbackassoonasIcan.Look,makeasmuchnoiseasyoucanaboutgoingtothosecaves.Thatwayyou’llbefollowed,andtheywon’tpayattentiontowhatI’mdoing.”
Asshespoke,shetypedaquickmessagetoKatherine.
Go.Trustme.I’monit.
ItwaspitchblackasSecretaryAdamsboardedtheSultan’splane.Onceinthespaciouscabin,sheremovedtheburqaandtriedtogiveittothewomanofficial.
“Keepit,”shesaid,inperfectEnglish.“Ibelieveyou’llbereturning.”
Astheplaneheadeddowntherunwayonthefirstlegofherlongjourneyhome,Ellensatforward,asthoughthatwouldgethertoWashingtonfaster.
HerlastsightofKatherinewasherdaughterandBoyntongettingintoanothercarfortheirownlongjourney,tothecaves.
Shehopedandprayedshe’dunderstoodtheAyatollah’sstoryaboutthecatandratcorrectly.Shewasprettysurehe’dhadAnahitaDahirarrestedsothatsomeonefromEllen’spartywouldhavetostaybehind.
Whenhe’dpubliclyexpelledSecretaryAdams,butallowedherdaughterandChiefofStafftostay,thathadconfirmeditforEllen.
Hewasplayingagameofmisdirection.Hewantedtotellthemsomething,butEllenwastoocloselywatched.
SotheSupremeLeaderhadtogetheroutofthecountry,whileguaranteeingsomeonefromtheAmericancontingentwouldstaybehindtomeettheinformantandgettheinformationtheyneeded.
Astheplanereachedcruisingaltitude,EllenreceivedatextfromKatherine.
Planewaitingforusatairport.Wewereexpected.
Ellenloweredherhead,heavywithrelief.
Theywereexpected.ThiswaswhatKhosraviwantedhertodo.
Shesentbackaquickthumbs-up,thensatback.Confident.Certainthatshe’dreadtheSupremeLeaderoftheIslamicRepublicofIranright.
But…
Shetriedtopushthattraitorousthoughtaway.
But…
Themanwasaterrorist.AswornenemyoftheUnitedStates.Who’dfundedanynumberofattacksontheWest.Andshe’djustplacedherdaughter,placedhernation,inhishands?Onthebasisofsomecat-and-ratfable?
Shewastrustingthattheslyoldclericwasnottheonewho’dsetatrap,andshehadnotjustwalkedintoit.
Thatwasherlastthoughtbeforeexhaustionovertookher.
Boyntoncrossedhimselfasthedoortothesmallturbopropwasclosed.
TheymanagedtocatchsomesleepontheflighttoSistanandBaluchestanProvince,which,CharlesBoyntoninformedKatherineinhisEeyorewayastheystartedtheirdescent,wasnotfarfromtheborderwithPakistan.Somehow,inhisopinion,thatmadeallthisworse.
Butthen,thoughtKatherineasshelookedoutthewindow,strainingthroughthedarknesstoseesomeland,hedidn’tknowaboutthenuclearbombsalreadyinUScities.Hedidn’tknowwhat“worse”reallywas.
AgrizzledolderfellownamedFarhadmettheirplaneandexplainedthathe’dbetheirdriverandguide.Theygotintohisbatteredcar,whichsmelledoftobacco,andhedrovethemintothedesert.
HespokefluentEnglish,hisaccentsoftandmusical.Hewasused,hesaid,totakingWesternarchaeologiststothissite.Hewasclearlyproudofit.Itwasjustthethreeoftheminthecar,andnoothervehiclesinsight.Noneoftheever-presentguardsandobservers.Everyonehadlostinterestinthem.
CharlesBoyntonhadalsolostinterest,staringoutthewindowinthepredawnglowattheendlesslandscapeofsandandtors.
Ashedrove,FarhadtoldthemaboutthediscoveriesofBronzeAgepictographsandpetroglyphs,ofanimalsandplantsandpeople.
“Somedrawnwithvegetabledye,”heexplained.“Somewithblood.There’rethousandsofthem.”
Thisarea,hetoldthem,despitethewealthofrockart,wasessentiallyignoredbytourists.
“Noforeigntravelerevercomeshere.”
Hetalkedpassionatelyabouttheneedtoprotectthefinds.HelookedatKatherine,sittingnexttohimwhileBoyntonsnoredinthebackseat.Headback,mouthopen.
“That’swhyyou’rehere,right?Toprotectwhat’simportant?”
Hisgazewassointense,shenodded.Unsurewhatshewasagreeingto.
Theyarrivedjustasthesunwasrising.OnceBoyntonwascoaxedawake,theyclimbedontoaplateauandFarhadsetoutabreakfastofstrongcoffeefromathermos,plumpfigs,oranges,cheese,andbread.
KatherinetookaphotographofBoyntonandFarhad.TheChiefofStaff,stillinhissuitandtie,lookedlikehe’dsteppedthroughahiddendooratFoggyBottomandendeduphere.
Unexpectedly.Unhappily.
Shesentitofftohermother,withashortnotetosaythey’darrivedatthecavesandwouldwritewhentherewassomethingmoretosay.
Now,perchedontherocksasthesunrose,Katherinelookedoutovertheancientlandscape,unchangedfortensofthousands,perhapsmillions,ofyears.Andmarveled.Othershadsatexactlywhereshewasandetchedthefiguresintothestone,capturingtheirlife.Theirbeliefs.Theirideas.Theirfeelingseven.
“MayI?”sheasked,andwhenFarhadnodded,shereachedoutherindexfingerandtracedthelines.
“It’saneagle,”heexplained.“Andthat”—hepointedtothelinesaboveit—“isthesun.”
Forreasonsshedidn’tfullyunderstand,Katherinefeltalumpfizzinginherthroat,andhereyesgrewmoist.Muchlikewhensheheardapieceofmusicthatreachedherdeeplyhiddenplaces.Orreadapassageinabookthatmovedher.Thesedrawingsofhorsesandhunters,camelsandsinuousbirdssoaring.Ofjoyoussunbursts.Theywereprofoundlyhuman.
Thehandsthatdrewthemhadfeltthesamegroundbeneaththem,hadfeltthesamesun.Hadfelttheneedtorecordtheirrituals.Theirliveswerenotsodifferent,notatalldifferent,fromherown.
AndnotsodifferentfromwhatshedidwiththenewspapersandTVnetworkssheran.This,instone,wastheirnews.Theeventsoftheirday.
Itwasacomfortingfeeling,shethought,asshesippedcoffeeandatefruitandcheese.Andwatchedthesunrise.Andsheneededcomfort.
ShewassoafraidaboutwhatShahhadplanned.Whathe’dalreadyplacedinAmericancities.Shewassoafraidtheywouldn’tbeabletostopit.
Shewassoconfusedaboutwhyhermotherhadsentthemthere,whatsheneededfromthem.Andyet,tracingthesun,Katherinefeltaprofoundandunexpectedpeace.
Thesedeclarationsoflifehadsurvivedmillennia.
Andwhileliveswouldend,lifewenton.
“Come,”saidFarhadasheclearedawaythebreakfast,“thebestonesareinside.”
Noddingtowardwhatlookedlikeanarrowfissureinthestone,hestoodupandhandedthemeachalantern.Theysqueezedthrough,withBoyntonmuttering,“Shit,shit,shit.”
Oncein,Katherinebrushedreddirtfromherjacketandlookedaround,movingthelightinaslowarc.Shecouldn’tseeanymoredrawings.
“They’refartherdown,”Farhadexplained.“That’swhytheyweren’tfounduntilrecently.”
HewalkedaheadofthemasBoyntonandKatherineexchangedglances.
“MaybeIshouldstayhere,”saidBoynton.
“Maybeyoushouldcomewithme,”saidKatherine.
“Idon’tlikecaves.”
“Whenhaveyoueverbeeninone?”
“Youobviouslyhaven’tspentmuchtimeintheWhiteHouse,”hewhispered.
Katherine’slaughtumbleddownthecavernsandreturnedtothemasasortoflowmoan.
Shebroughtoutherphone.Noreception.Shewastemptedtovideotheirprogress,butherbatterywasgettinglow,sosheclickedoffthephonebutkeptit,likeatalisman,inherhand.
TheyfollowedFarhadaroundacornerandsawthathe’dstopped.Thenturnedtothem.
“Ithinkthisisfarenough.”Heheldaguninhishand.
Theystaredattheguide.Atthegun.
“What’reyoudoing?”Katherinemanaged.
“Waiting.”
Andthentheyheardit,fromevendeeperinthecave.Footsteps.Theechomadeitimpossibletotellhowmanypeoplewereapproaching.Itsoundedlikehundreds.AndKatherinehadthewildideathattheancientfiguresonthewalls,drawninblood,hadcomealive.Hadsteppedoutofthestoneandwereapproaching.
Theyturnedtowardthesounds,andKatherinesawthatFarhad’sweaponwasnowpointedintothedarkness.Atwhateverwascomingcloserandcloser.
ShequicklyputherlanternonthedirtfloorofthecaveandmotionedBoyntontodothesame,andtogethertheyquietlybackedawayfromthelight,intothedarkness.
They’dbarelytakenthreestepswhentheysawwhowascomingoutofthedepthsoftheancientcave.Atfirstitlookedlikeaclusterofbobbinglights.Spiritssuspended.
Butastheygotcloser,thefiguresbehindthelightsbecamevisible.
ItwasAnahita.AndZaharaandherfather,Dr.Ahmadi.AndthetwoIranianagents,Americanassets,who’dmetZaharaandpassedalongthemessage.ThereweretwoRevolutionaryGuardswiththem,weaponsdrawnandpointednotattheirprisonersbutatFarhadandKatherineandBoynton.
Theystoppedfifteenfeetfromeachother.
Hadhermothermadeaterriblemistake?Katherinewondered.
Wasthishowitended?Withherownbloodsprayedontothewalls?Joiningthatofherancientancestors?Tobeinterpretedcenturiesfromnowbysomeanthropologistwho’ddecidethesplattersweresomeattempttochartthestars?
Seemedthatarticlehermotherhadreadwasrightafterall.AncientIraniansandAmericansdidendupinthesameplace.Onlyitwasn’tOregon;itwasthewallsofthiscave.
KatherineheldAnahita’seyes,whichwerealsofilledwithterror.TheFSOwasthinkingthesamething.
Thiswastheend.
Katherineclickedonthevideoonherphone.Whateverhappenedtothem,therewouldbearecord.
“Mahmoud?”OneoftheIranianagentswho’dbeenarrestedwaspeeringatthem.
Farhadloweredhishandgunslightly,butnotalltheway.“Iheardthey’dpickedyouup.”
“Yes,”shesaid,notsmiling.“Someonemust’veinformed.”Sheturnedtotheguards.“Youcanloweryourweapons.This’swhowe’remeeting.”
“Mahmoud?”whisperedKatherine.“IthoughtyournamewasFarhad.”
“WhenI’maguide,itis.”
“Andwhatareyounow?”askedBoynton.
“Yoursavior.”
Thewomanagentshookherhead.“Theegothatwalkslikeaman.He’saninformantforMOIS.”
“TheIranianintelligenceagency,”Boyntonsaid.
“MahmoudalsoworksfortheRussianmafia,”thewomanexplained,thedisdainclear.“That’swhywe’rehere,amIright?”
Theywerestillstandingfifteenfeetapart.Whiletheysoundedcordial,collegial,therewasaboutthematightlycoiledtension.Likemeat-eatersreadytospring.
Katherine’slantern,placedontheground,threwitslightagainsttheroughstonewallofthecave.Illuminatingexquisitedrawings.
Graceful,voluptuous.Thesewereofamagnitudefinerthantheonesoutside.Therewasmovement,aflowtothemasthebloodmenonbloodhorsesandcamelsplungedtheirspearsintoascreaming,writhing,catlikecreature.
Thiswasahunt.Thiswasakill.
CHAPTER30
Hamzametthemattheouterringofhisencampment.
Themorningwasclearandcold,butbymidafternoonitwouldbestiflinghot.Suchwaslifeatthisaltitudeandlatitude.Lifeinthisatmospheredemandedanabilitytoadapt.
AsGilandHamzaembraced,Gilfeltsomethingslippedintohisjacketpocket.Atfirsthethoughtitwasaphone,butitwastoobulky,andfartooheavy.
“Ithinkyou’llneedit,”Hamzawhispered.“Goodluck.”
“Thankyou.Foreverything.”
Theylockedeyes,eachunderstandingwhattheotherhaddone.Andtheconsequences.ThenGilfollowedAkbardownthemountain,alongthenarrowtrailthatwouldeventuallytakethembacktotheoldtaxi.AndfromthereintoPakistanandaflight…where?
Home?ToDC?Wheretherewasalmostcertainlyoneofthebombs?
Ashelimpedalong,Giltriedtojustifygoingbackthere.Andtriedtojustifynot.
Akbar,familiarwiththeroute,knewexactlywherehewoulddoit.Attheplacewherethepathfellaway.WhentheywerebeyondHamza’ssentriesandtherewouldbenowitnesses.
Hefeltinhispocketforhisphone.He’dgetextraifhecouldtakeapictureofthebody.Enoughtobuyanewcar.
AssoonasAirForceThreelanded,SecretaryAdamswaswhiskedawayinthearmoredSUV,throughthestreetsofWashington.Lightsflashing.Escortvehiclesblockingintersections.
AndstillitfeltlikealifetimebetweenAndrewsandtheWhiteHouse.
Ellenkeptcheckingherphone.Shehadn’thadamessagefromKatherinesincethephotoshe’dsentofhersullenChiefofStaffbesideaweatheredolderIranianmanintraditionaldress,accompaniedbythetext:Madeit.You’reright.Wellworthcoming.Butnoonefollowed.
Thathadbeenseveralhoursago.Andnothingsince.
Shecheckedagain,thensentoffamessage.
News?YouOK?Followedbyaheartemoji.
WhentheSUVrolleduptothesidedoorintotheWhiteHouse,Ellenleaptout.Marineguardsopenedthedoor.Officialspausedtogreether:“MadameSecretary.”
Shetriedtolookcomposedwhileprettymuchsprintingalongthewidehalls.She’dtextedBetsytomeetherinthePresident’souterofficeandtobringPeteHamilton.
Thetwowomenembraced,andBetsyintroducedtheformerpresssecretaryforEricDunn.
“Thankyouforhelpingus,”saidEllen.
“I’mhelpingmycountry.”
Ellensmiled.“Goodenough.”
“I’llletthePresidentknowyou’rehere,MadameSecretary,”saidWilliams’ssecretaryinherslowdrawl.Ellenhalfexpectedtobeofferedsweeticedtea.
Butwhilethewomansoundedrelaxed,shemovedquickly,withaneconomyofmotionthatprovedsheknewexactlywhatthiswasabout.
Well,perhapsnotexactly,thoughtEllen,asshecheckedherphone.Again.
Nothing.
Thedooropened,buttheyonlygottwostepsintotheOvalOfficebeforeallthreestopped.Andstared.
Thoughshe’daskedthatthismeetingbeprivate,justbetweenthemandPresidentWilliams,shesawtwomengettotheirfeetfromwherethey’dbeensittingonthesofa.
Thementurnedinakindofsynchronizedmovement.
TimBeechamandGeneralBertWhitehead.
Ellenwasbeyondtryingtohidehersurprise,orherannoyance.Steppingforward,sheignoredthemenandspokedirectlytoWilliams.
“Mr.President,IthoughtIaskedthatthismeetingbeprivate.”
“Youdid.Ididn’tagree.IfyouhaveinformationonShah,thesoonerweallhearit,thefasterwecanputaplaninplace.TimdelayedhisflighttoLondontobehere.Solet’shaveit.”
Itwasthenhenoticedtheothertwopeoplewithher.BetsyJamesonheknew,buttheother…PresidentWilliamswasclearlyzippingthroughthephotoalbumeverypoliticiankeptintheirbrain.
Andthenhehadit.Hisexpressiongrewhappierathavingplacedtheman,andmoreperplexed.Havingplacedhim.
“Aren’tyou—”
“PeteHamilton,Mr.President.IwasPresidentDunn’spresssecretary.”
WilliamsturnedtohisSecState.“What’sthisabout?”
EllensteppedclosertothePresident.“Icamebackbecausethere’ssomethingyouneedtohearpersonally.Privately.Please.”
Ifheheardthepleainhervoice,heignoredit.
“AboutShah?”heasked.“You’vefoundoutabouthisplans?”
Therewasnothingforit.EllenAdamssquaredhershouldersandsaid,“It’saboutthemole,thetraitor,inyourWhiteHouse.WhoapprovedDr.Shah’sreleasefromhousearrest.Who’sworkingwithhimandelementsinthePakistanigovernmenttogettheTalibanandAl-QaedaanucleardevicetouseagainsttheUnitedStates.”
WitheachwordPresidentWilliams’seyeswideneduntilhelookedlikeacaricatureofaterrifiedman.
“What?”
“Youfoundit?”saidWhitehead.HetookastepclosertoTimBeecham.“Theevidenceweneed?”
WilliamslookedattheChairoftheJointChiefs.“Youknew?”
EllenalsoturnedtoGeneralWhitehead.Heranger,herfury,wasimpossibletocontainormistake.Shewastremblingwithrage.
Foramomentshecouldn’tspeak,butherexpressionsaiditallasshestaredattheGeneral.
Whitehead’sfaceopenedwithsurprise.Thenhisbrowsdrewtogether.“Wait.Youcan’tpossiblythink—”
“Iknow,”saidEllen,glaringathim.“Wehavetheevidence.”
ShenoddedtoBetsy,whoplacedtheprintoutsontheResolutedesk.Mrs.Cleaverhaddriveninthefirstnail.SheturnedandglaredatWhiteheadbeforesteppingback.
TheGeneralwenttomovetowardthedeskandthepapers,butWilliamsheldupahandandhestopped.
ThePresidentpickedthemup.Asheread,hisfacegrewslack.Hismouthopened;hiseyesgrewdull,uncomprehending.Itwasthatmoment,thatinstant,whenyoutrippedgoingdownthestairs.Thatmomentwhenyourealizeyouwon’tbeabletosaveyourself.Andthiswasgoingtobebad.
TherewascompletesilenceintheOvalOffice.Exceptforthetick,tick,tickoftheclockonthemantel.
ThenPresidentWilliamsdroppedthepapersandturnedtoWhitehead.
“Youbastard.”
“No,it’snotme!I’mnottheone.Idon’tknowwhatthosepaperssay,butit’salie.”
Helookedaroundwildly;thenhiseyeslandedonTimBeecham,whowasstaringattheChairoftheJointChiefswithhorrorandshock.
“You,”saidWhitehead,andstartedforward.“Youdidthis.”
HetookasteptowardBeecham,whobackedaway,trippingoveranarmchairandfallingtothefloor.
“Security,”calledWilliams,andalldoorsflewopen.
SecretServiceagentsswarmedthePresidentwhileothersdrewtheirweapons,scanningtheroomforthedanger.
“Arresthim.”
TheagentslookedfromthePresidenttothemanhewaspointingat.Afour-stargeneral.Awarhero.Formanyofthem,theirhero.
TheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff.
Therewasbuttheslightestpausebeforethesenioragentsteppedforward.
“Dropyourweapon,General.”
“I’mnotarmed,”saidWhitehead,spreadinghisarmswide.Then,ashewasbeingfrisked,heshiftedhiseyestothePresident.“It’snotme.It’shim.”HenoddedtowardBeecham,justgettingupoffthefloor.“Idon’tknowhowhedidthis,butit’sBeecham.”
“ForGod’ssake,”saidEllen.“Giveitup.Wehavetheevidence.Wehavethememos,thenotes.Theonesyouthoughtyou’dhidden.AgreeingtothereleaseofShah.Destabilizingtheregion.Settingthiswholethingup.”
“Inever…,”beganWhitehead.“ReleasingShahwasmadness.I’dnever—”
Betsycuthimoff.“WefoundthememosamongtheBeechampapers.”
“Thewhat?”saidtheDirectorofNationalIntelligence.“Where?”
“GeneralWhiteheadheretriedtoimplicateyou,”explainedBetsy.“Triedtoframeyouasthetraitorby,amongotherthings,takingyourdocumentsfromtheDunneraandmovingthemfromtheofficialarchives.Heburiedthemsothatitlookedlikeyouhadsomethingtohide.”
“Ifoundthedocuments,”saidPeteHamilton.“TheywerehiddenintheDunnadministrationprivatearchives.”
“There’snosuchthing,”saidPresidentWilliams.“Allcorrespondenceanddocumentsareautomaticallysenttotheofficialarchives.Theycanbemarkedsecret,butthey’rethere.”
“No,Mr.President,”saidHamilton.“TheDunnpeoplewerecarefultocreateaparallelarchive.Theycouldn’terasedocuments,buttheycouldputthembehindanalmostimpenetrablewall.Onlythoseinsiderswiththepasswordcouldgetin.Ihadthepassword,butnotthecomputeraccess.”
“Ihadtheaccess,”saidBetsyJameson,“butnotthepassword.Soweworkedtogether.”
“YouchangedallthereferencesofyourinvolvementwithShahandthePakistanistomakeitlooklikeitwasMr.Beecham,”PeteHamiltonsaidtoWhitehead.“Exceptyoumissedtwo.Andwefoundthem.”
Whiteheadwasshakinghishead.Apparentlydumbfounded.ButEllenhadcometoappreciatethatofcoursehe’dbeagoodliar,agoodactor.He’dhavetobe.
She’dbeentakeninbythisFredMacMurray,everyone’sbestfriend,once.Notagain.
“AndthenyouwentaboutquietlyinsinuatingthatTimBeechamwasn’ttobetrusted,”shesaid.“Anditworked.Ibelievedyou.”
“ThatyoungmanwhowasfollowingmefromFrankfurt,andwasintheparkandthebar,”saidBetsy.“TheoneItoldyouabout.Youwenttotalktohim.Iwassogratefulthatyoutookcareofitsoeasily.NowIknowhow.Hewasoneofyours.”
“No.”
“IsthatwhenyougotthescanofthenoteEllengaveme?”saidBetsy.“Youdidn’tgetridofhim.YoutoldhimtogototheSecretaryofState’sofficeandsearchitwhileIwasinthebarwithyou.Youtoldhimtolookforsomethingpersonal.SomethingyoucouldsendShah,tofreakEllenout.”
“WasityourideaorShah’s?”askedEllen.
“Noneofthishappened.”Buthisdenialsweregettingweakerandweakerasthenetclosed.
“Betsy,isthatRangerstillwithyou?”Ellenasked.
“Yes,Ileftherinthehalloutside.”
EllenturnedtothePresident.“There’sanArmyRanger—”
“CaptainDenisePhelan,”saidBetsy.
“She’swithhim.Sheneedstobearrestedtoo.”
“ForGod’ssake,this’sgonetoofar,”saidWhitehead.“CaptainPhelan’sadecoratedveteran.She’sputherlifeonthelineforthiscountry.Youcan’tdothistoher.She’snotinvolved.”
“Butyou’readmittingyouare?”saidPresidentWilliams,andwhenGeneralWhiteheadfellsilent,henoddedtooneoftheSecretServiceagents.“ArrestCaptainPhelan.”
Whiteheadinhaleddeeply,realizing,Ellenknew,therewasnoescapenow.Hewascaught,trapped.Phelanwouldalmostcertainlyadmiteverythinginexchangeforalightersentence.
“Waitaminute,”saidBeecham,tryingtocatchup.“JustsoI’mclear.YouthoughtIbetrayedmycountry?”hesaidtoEllen.“ThatIwasworkingwithBashirShah?Basedonnoevidence?Justhisinsinuations?”
“Idid,andI’msorry,Tim,”saidSecretaryAdams.
“‘I’msorry’?”saidBeecham,almostshouting.Incredulous.“‘I’msorry’?”
“Itdidn’thelpthatyou’reveryunlikable,”saidBetsy.Ellenpressedherlipstogether.Tightly.
“Why?”saidWilliams.Hiseyeshadn’tleftBertWhitehead.“ForGod’ssake,General,whywouldyoudoit?”
“Ididn’t.Iwouldn’t.”Hisbrowswerefurrowed,furiouslythinking.Thestrategistnotgivingup.Desperatetofindaholeinthenet.
Buttherewasnowayout.Writheashemight,hewastrapped,andheknewit.
“Money,”saidBeecham.“It’salwaysmoney.Whatdidtheypayyoutomurdermen,women,andchildren?Togiveanuclearbombtoourenemies?Howmuch,GeneralWhitehead?”HeturnedtothePresident.“I’llhavemypeoplelookintooffshoreaccounts.Ibetwe’llfinditthere.”
Whitehead’seyesremainedonEllen,flickeringforamomenttoBetsy,thenback
“CaptainPhelanhadnothingtodowithanyofthis,”herepeatedtoEllen,quietly.
“Andyou,youbastard,youtriedtoimplicateme?Tosetmeup?”Beechamwasworkinghimselfupfromragetohysteria.“I’vegivenmywholelifeinservicetothiscountry,andyoutrytosmearmewithyourshit?”
NowWhitehead,withunexpectedspeed,turnedandlungedatBeecham,tacklinghimtothecarpetinoneswiftmove.Sittingastridehim,Whitehead’sfistpumpedupanddown,smashingintothefaceoftheDirectorofNationalIntelligence,asBeechamcriedoutandtriedinvaintocoverup.
IttooktheSecretServicejustamomenttoreact,butitwaslongenoughfortheGeneral,trainedinSpecialForces,toinflictdamage.
TwoagentsgrabbedthePresident,bendinghimdownandprotectinghimwiththeirbodieswhiletwootherswentfortheGeneral.OneswipedhisgunacrossWhitehead’sface,knockinghimoffBeechamandtotheground.Dazed.
Theykneltonhim,gunstohishead.
Instinctively,EllenhadswungherarmacrossBetsy’sbody,inaprotectivemovement.Pushingherback.Asamothermightwithachildwhenbrakingsuddenly.
DougWilliamsstoodbackupandstraightenedhisclothes.
TheydraggedWhiteheadtohisfeet,bloodstreamingdownthesideofhisface.
“It’sover,Bert,”saidWilliams.“There’snothingtogainbynottellinguseverything.WeneedtoknowwhatShahisupto.Where’sthetarget?”Silence.“Who’sbuyingthenucleartechnology?IsittheTaliban?Al-Qaeda?Howfaralongarethey?Where’retheyworking?”Silence.“Wherearethebombs?Tellus!”thePresidentroared,andtookasteptowardWhitehead,asthoughabouttoattackhim.
AnagenthelpedTimBeechamtohisfeetand,depositinghiminachair,hehandedtheDNIatowel.Hisnosewasbroken,hisbloodseepingintothewhitecarpet.
WhiteheadturnedtoEllen.“I’vedonemypart.”
“OhmyGod,”whisperedBetsy.“Headmitsit.Untilthismoment…”
“What?”EllenstaredatBertWhitehead.“Youhavetotelluswhatyou’vedone.”
“‘Whenthouhastdone,thouhastnotdone,’”hesaid,staringatBetsy.“‘ForIhavemore.’”
ThewordssatsurroundedbyahorrifiedsilencebeforeitwasbrokenbythePresidentoftheUnitedStates.
“Takehimaway.Iwanthiminterrogated.Weneedtoknowwhatheknows.AndTim,getmedicalhelp.”
WhentheOvalOfficewascleared,DougWilliamssatheavilyinhischairbehindthedeskandstareddownattheprintouts.Thedamningmemos.
“I’dneverhavedreamed…”
HelookedupandindicatedthatEllenandBetsyshouldsit.Thenhegotupagain.Slowly.Likeamanbattered.
WalkingovertoPeteHamilton,hetooktheyoungerman’sarmandledhimtothedoor.
“Thankyouforyourhelp.Givemeafewdays,andthenI’dliketoseeyouagain.”
“Ididn’tvoteforyou,Mr.President.”
Williamssmiledwearilyandloweredhisvoice.“I’mnotsuretheydideither.”
HetiltedhisheadtowardhisSecretaryofStateandhercounselor.
Buthisfaceheldnoamusement.Onlycrushingworry.
“Goodluck,Mr.President.Ifthere’sanythingelseIcando…”
“Thankyou.Andnotawordtoanyone.”
“Iunderstand.”
WhenHamiltonleft,Williamsreturnedtohisdesk.“YoucameallthewaybackfromTehrantotellmeaboutGeneralWhitehead?”
Whilehe’dbeentalkingtoHamilton,Ellenhadcheckedherphone.Nothing.StillnothingfromKatherine.AndnothingmorefromGil.
Shewasmovingnowfromworrytopanic.
Butshehadtofocus.Focus.
Betsytookherhandandwhispered,“YouOK?”
“KatherineandGil.Noword.”
BetsysqueezedherhandasEllenturnedbacktoWilliams.“YouneededtoknowaboutGeneralWhitehead,Mr.President,andIcouldn’triskthemessagebeingintercepted.”
“YouthinkothersareinvolvedbesidestheRanger?”
“Ithinkit’sapossibility.”
“Isthisacoupattempt?”Hisfacewaspale,butatleast,thoughtEllen,hewaswillingtofacetheworst.
“Idon’tknow.”Thenshepaused.
Wasit?Ifthosenuclearbombswentoffkillinghundreds,thousands,maybehundredsofthousands,andguttingmajorAmericancities,there’dbechaos.Andoutrage.
Andonceasemblanceoforderwasrestored,there’dbelegitimatecallsforaccountability.Foranswers.Butalsocriesforrevenge.Andnotjustagainsttheterroristswho’ddoneit,butagainstanadministrationthathadfailedtostopit.
ThefactthatthishadallstartedunderEricDunnwouldbelostinthefrenzy.
EllenthoughtEricDunnwasfoolish,butnot,shebelieved,alunatic.Notactivelyinvolvedinthisplot.Itwasothers,thosewho’dbenefitbythechaos.Byawar.Byachangeofadministration.TheleechesandminionswhohadmetastasizedunderDunnandwerestillamongthem.
Maybethiswasacoupattempt.
DougWilliamscouldseethathisSecretaryofStatewasperplexed.
“We’llgetitoutofWhitehead,”hesaid.
“I’mnotsosure,”saidEllen.“Butthere’ssomethingelse.SomethingIalsoneededtotellyouinprivate.”
ThePresidentlookedatBetsy.
“Sheknows,”saidEllen.“Andsodomydaughterandson.Butthey’retheonlyones.ItwasGilwhogottheinformation.”
ThedoortotheOvalOfficeflewopenandBarbStenhauserappeared,stoppingafewfeetintostareatthebloodstainsonthecarpet.
“Ijustheard.Isittrue?”
“Youneedtoleaveus,Barb,”hesaid.“I’llbuzzwhenIwantyou.”Stenhauserstoodthere,stunned.Bywhatshe’dheardinthehallways,aboutGeneralWhitehead,andwhatshe’djustheardfromthePresident.
HereyesleftthePresidentandrestedonSecretaryAdamsbeforeshiftingtoBetsyJameson.Hergazewascold.Chilling.
“What’shappening?”
“Please,Barb,”saidWilliams,awarninginhisvoicenottomakehimsayitathirdtime.
Whensheleft,Williamsleanedforwardandsaid,“Tellme,MadameSecretary.”
AndEllendid.
CHAPTER31
“Let’sresthere,”saidAkbar.
Hestoppedandlookedovertheedge,intothecanyonbelow.
Gilpaused,gratefultohiscompanionforconsideringhimandhisleg.Thedescent,whileeasieronthelungs,wasfarharderonhiswoundedleg.Allthejarringandskidding.
“No,”hesaid.“Wehavetogetdown.Quickly.Ineedtocontactmymother.”
“WhatdidHamzasaytoyou?Youlookedprettyupset.”
“Oh,youknowhim.Dramaqueen.”
Akbarlaughed.“Yes.He’sfamousforit.AllthePathanare.”
“Iwasupsetbecauseheeithercouldn’torwouldn’ttellmeanything.IthinkheknowsstuffaboutShah,butwouldn’tsay.Hewasmylasthope.IhavetogetdowntotellmymotherthatIgotnothing.”
“Didn’tyouwriteheryesterday?Youborrowedmyphone.”
“Idid,buthopedHamzawouldchangehismindthismorningandI’dhavesomethingusefultosendher.Buthedidn’t.”
Akbarstudiedhiscompanion.Hisfriend.Well,not,asitturnedout,aclosefriend.
“Toobad.Allthiswayfornothing.”Akbarspreadouthisarm,invitingGiltotakethelead.“Youfirst.”
“Actually,probablybetterifyougo.Ifmyleggivesout,Iwanttobeabletolandonyou.”
“Nowwho’sbeingadramaqueen?”Buthesteppedforward.Itmadewhathehadtodoabitmoredifficult,inthatGilwouldseeitcoming.Aknifeinthebackwasalwayseasier.Aswasashovefrombehind.
Andhewouldn’thavethatshockedfacehauntinghim.ThoughAkbarsuspecteditwoulddisappearassoonasthenewcararrived.
Ashemovedaroundthecorneroftherockwall,thepathnarrowandlitteredwithrubblefromslides,hestopped,turned,and,armsout,reachedforGil.
Seeingthis,Gilwas,foraninstant,baffled.Butitlastedjustasplitsecond
Hesteppedaway,knockinghiswoundagainstanoutcropping.Cryingoutinpain,hefelthislegbuckling.Instinctively,hereachedoutandgrabbedAkbarbyhisclothrobe,dragginghimdownwithhim.
Ashehittheground,hereleasedAkbarandscrambledaway,hisrighthandgraspingforthepocketofhisrobes.WhereHamzahadhiddenthegun.
“What’reyoudoing?”heshoutedasAkbargottohishandsandkneesandscrambledafterhim.
Gil’seyeswidened.Akbardidn’tanswer,butthelong,curvedbladeinhishanddid.
“Shit,”saidGil,anddugmorefuriouslyforthepocket.Butthevoluminousrobewasn’tgivingitupsoeasily.
HereachedforahandfulofrocksanddirtandthrewitintoAkbar’sface.Itbarelyslowedthemandown.
Gilkickedfuriously,butAkbar,anadeptathand-to-handfightingfromhisyearswiththemujahedin,grabbedGil’sbootandtwisted,sothatGilscreamedinpainandterrorashisentirebodywasturnedontoitsside.Likeacalfbeingroped.
Hewascompletelydefenseless.Hebuckedandcriedoutandwaitedfortheknifeacrosshisthroatwhen,tohishorror,herealizedwhatAkbarwasdoing.Hewasdragginghimovertheedge.Sothatitwouldlooklikehe’dslippedandfallen.Anaccident.Notmurder.
“No,no!”
Hewasslidingovertheedge.Hisheavybootsdragginghimdown.Itwashappeninginslowmotion,likethenightmarewherehe’dtrytorunbutcouldn’t.
Hisarmsoutinfrontofhim,hishandsscrabbledfranticallyforpurchase.Something,anything,toclingto.
Butitwasalreadytoolate.He’dpassedthepointofnoreturn.Anymomentnowtheslidewouldspeedupandhe’dberightovertheedge,flailingintheair.
Andthen…
Hisfingersdraggedthroughthedirt,rippinghisnailsandleavingatrailofblood.
Andthentherewasashot.Asingleshot.Andinhisperipheralvisionhesawsomething,ablur,tumbleovertheside.
ButGil’sproblemsweren’tover.Hewasstillsliding.Hestruggledevenmorefuriously,grabbing,grabbing.
Andthenhefeltahandonthescruffofhisneck,stoppinghim.Dragginghimbackup.
Oncesafe,helayonthegroundpanting,crying.Unabletostopshaking.Finallyheraisedhishead,hisfacefilthywithdirtandmuddytears.
“Nowwho’sthedramaqueen?”saidHamza.
“Ohshit,ohshit.Howdidyou…?”
“Know?Ididn’t.ButI’venevertrustedthelittlebastard.Hewasalwaysonlyinitforwhathecouldgetoutofit.Mostlymoney.Sellingcapturedarmsontheblackmarketsothatthey’dendupbackwiththosewetookthemfrom.Hewasanasshole.”
“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”
“HowwasItoknowyoukeptintouchwiththatpieceofshit?”
“Whowasheworkingfor?”askedGil.Butheknew.“Shah?OhChrist.IfAkbarwashiredbyhim,thatmeansShahknowsIcamehere.Spoketoyou.”AsGilspoke,Hamzawasnodding.“He’llknowyou’retheonewhogavemetheinformation.”
“Maybenot.Aroundhereallegiancesare”—hescannedthearidlandscape—“fluid.Akbarcould’vebeenworkingforanyone.He’dknowthatanywherethesonoftheAmericanSecretaryofStatewentwouldbeinformationworthselling.”
“Butitwasn’tjustinformation.Someonepaidhimtokillme.”
“Seemsso.”
“Whichiswhythegun.”Gilputhishandoverthepocket.
“Yeah,forallthegooditdid.Iheardwhatyousaidtohim.Youlied.YousaidIhadn’ttoldyouanything.Why?Didyoususpecthim?”
Gillookedovertheedge,atthesplayedandbrokenbodybelow.Didhe?Butheshookhishead.“No,”headmitted.“I’mjustnaturallycautious.Thefewerwhoknow,thebetter.”
Hamzatoolookedoverthecliff,atthedeadbodyhe’dcreated.“Iwassurprisedtoseehimwithyouattheencampment.”
Thesentencesoundedfamiliar.IttookGiljustamomenttorealizewhy.“‘IhadanappointmentwithhiminSamarra.’”
WhenHamzatiltedhishead,Gilsaid,“AquotefromanoldMesopotamianstory.Abouttheimpossibilityofcheatingdeath.”
“Seemsyou’vecheatedittwice.Iwonderwhereitplanstomeetyou?”Hamzastoopedandpickedsomethingoffthetrail.“Thesefellfromhispocket.”HehandedthecellphoneandcarkeystoGil.Butkeptthelong,curvedknife.“I’dstayawayfromSamarra,ifIwasyou.”
Ashelimpedandskiddeddownthemountain,GilhadtheoddfeelingthatDeathwasnotfollowinghim,buthadstayedbehind.ThattheappointmentwaswithHamza.Thathe’dledDeathrighttohim.
Andbythelastglancehehadofhisfriend,hecouldseethatHamzasuspectedthesamething.
IngivingGilgameshthatinformation,HamzatheLionhadalsogivenhislife.AndbloatedDeath,intheformofBashirShah,wouldtakeit.
GilkeptcheckingAkbar’sphoneforreception.Upattheencampment,therewasasignal,butinthevalleysandcaverns?Nothing.
Onceatthecar,heturnedittowardtheporousborder,andtheruttedbackroadsacrosstoPakistan.
HisplannowwastoreturntoWashington.Hejustwantedtogethome.Tobeonhandtohelp.Buthe’dgoviaFrankfurt,torepaythekindnurseandfindAnahita.
Sincehiskidnapping,he’dallowedfeartobuildawallaroundhim,andfromthatfortresshe’dviewedtheworld.Safe,sovereign,andalone.Butnomore.Ashe’dslidovertheedge,hisfortresshadfallen.Now,givenyetanotherchance,hewasdamnedifhewasgoingtoletfearstealanymoreprecioustimehemightspendwithher.IfDeathwastofindhim,itwouldbewithlove,notfear,inhisheart.
AsAnahitatookherplacebesidehercousin,shenoticedthatZaharawassittingasfarfromherfatheraspossibleinthecave.WithKatherineAdamsontheothersideofZahara,thetwowomenformedasupportiveembrace.
Oncethegunshadbeenlowered,Farhad,orMahmoud,hadledthemdownanalmosthiddensidepassagetowhereitopenedintoacavern.Thereheinstructedthemtoputtheirlanternsinthemiddleofthestonecirclewherethefloorofthecavehadbeenblackenedbyafirethathaddiedouttensofthousandsofyearsearlier.
Theysatonboulders,rolledintoplacebyhandslongdeadanddust.
Hadsomecatastropheoccurred,Anahitawondered,tomakethesepeopleabandontheirhome?Wasthisaplaceofcelebration?Ofritual?Ofrefuge?Hadtheyhiddenhere,deepinthecaves,believingtheyweresafe?
AsAnahitaandtheothersnowbelieved.
Buthadsomethingfoundthemanyway?
Shelookedatthedrawingscoveringthewallsandeventheceiling.Thegentleflickeringofthekerosenelampsgavethefiguresmovement,sothatitlookedlikethehuntwasinfullandperpetualswing.Italsolooked,inonesequence,asthoughthecatlikecreaturetheywereafterhadturned.Wasnowchasingthem.
Isthatwhathadhappened?Haditfoundthesemen,women,children?
Anahitaknewherimaginationwasgettingthebetterofher,andthatwasnotgood.Especiallywhenrealitywasfrighteningenough.
Shestaredacrosstheclusteroflampsatheruncleonthefarsideofthecircle.Hehadn’tspokentoAnahita,buthehadglaredatherasthoughsheweretheenemy.Asthoughshe’dluredhisdaughterintodoingsomethingsheshouldneverhavedone.
And,byextension,forcedhimtodosomethingheshouldneverhavedone.
Dr.Ahmadihad,though,spokentoZahara,beggingherateveryopportunitytoforgivehim.Tounderstandwhyhe’dturnedherin.He’dweptandreachedforherhand,butshe’dyankeditaway,steppingovertoAnahitaandKatherine,andleavingDr.Ahmadialonewithhisagony.
Thenuclearphysicistsatwithhisheadinhishands,andAnahitawasremindedwhatEinsteinhadsaid:“IknownotwithwhatweaponsWorldWarIIIwillbefought,butWorldWarIVwillbefoughtwithsticksandstones.”
ButEinsteinwasbeingdisingenuous.Heknewperfectlywell,asdidthosearoundtheircircle,whatwasgoingtoblowthembacktotheStoneAge.
Andnoneknewbetterthanthefatherofmanyofthoseweapons.Dr.BehnamAhmadi
“‘NowIambecomeDeath…’”UnderherbreathshemutteredthewordsofRobertOppenheimer,quotingfromtheBhagavadGita.“‘Thedestroyerofworlds.’”
Maybe,Anahitathoughtasshewatchedheruncle,weneedtogetusedtolivingincaves.
KatherineturnedtoCharlesBoynton,who’dplasteredhimselftoherside.Toprotecther?shewondered.Butsheknewtheanswer.Itwassoshecouldprotecthim.
Katherinewasgrowingalmostfondofthisman.
“TheOvalOffice?”shewhispered,lookingaroundthecave.
Hesmiled.“It’suncanny.”
Farhadclearedhisthroat,andalleyesswungtohim.
“IwastoldbymyhandlerinMOIStomeettheAmericansandbringthemhere.AndtellthemwhatIknow.”
Katherineclosedhereyesforamoment.SohermothereitherkneworsuspectedthatthiswastheAyatollah’splan.ButshehadtofigureawaytogetthemoutofTehranandontheirownsothattheycouldgettheinformationtheyneededtostopShahwithoutanyoneelseknowing.
CertainlywithouttheRussiansknowing.
Thedestinationdidn’tmatter,aslongasnoonefollowedthem.
CannyMother.CannyAyatollah.
Farhadlookedintothedarknessthatsurroundedthem,thenbacktothegathering.“Iwasn’ttoldabout”—hisarmsweptaround—“allofyou.”
“Doesitmatter?”askedKatherine.
“Itmight.Iftheywerefollowed.”Hewasclearlyafraid.Hiseyesdartedthiswayandthat.“Why’reyouhere?”
“Weweretoldtocomehereandbringthem,”saidtheseniorRevolutionaryGuard.“Andtohandthemover.Butnothim.He’storeturnwithus.”
TheguardwaslookingatDr.Ahmadi,who’draisedhishead.
“Thenwhybringhim?”askedBoynton.
Theguardactuallysmiled.“Wereyoutoldwhyyouwerereallyhere?”
“Look,”saidKatherine,hernervesjangling.“Thesooneryoutelluswhatyouknow,thefasterwecanallgetoutofhere.”
Heruneasehaddeepened.Ifthismanhadbeentoldtopassalonginformation,andhewasclearlyanxioustodoitandleave,whatwaswiththebreakfast?Whywastetimepreparingameal?
Itnowseemedlikehewasstalling.Waitingeven.ButifnotforAnahitaandtheothers,thenwho?
“Wherearetherealscientistsworking?”demandedKatherine.
“Realscientists?”saidBoynton.“What’reyoutalkingabout?”
Shedidn’twanttowasteprecioustimeexplainingaboutGil’smessage.AllherconsiderablefocuswasonFarhad.
“There’sanabandonedfactoryinPakistan,ontheborderwithAfghanistan,”saidFarhad,droppinghisvoicetoawhisper.
Everyoneinthecircleleanedforward.Katherine,herimaginationnotquiteincheck,couldpicturetheimagesonthewallsturning.Alsoleaningin.Sensingbiggergame.Sensingfreshblood.
“TheRussianmafiahasbeensellingfissionablematerialandequipmenttoShahandsendingitthereformorethanayear,”saidFarhad.
“They’vealreadybuiltatleastthreebombs,”saidKatherine,andFarhadlookedather,surprisedsheknew.Henodded.
“Holyshit,”saidBoynton.
“Wherearethey?”Katherineasked.
“Idon’tknow.AllIknowiswhatIheardandthat’sthattheyweresenttotheStatesoncontainershipstwoweeksago.”
“Holyfuck,”saidBoynton.“There’renuclearbombsintheUnitedStates?”HejumpedtohisfeetandloomedoverFarhad.“Where?Youknow,don’tyou.Wherearethey?”
WhenFarhadshookhishead,Boyntonlungedathim,knockinghimofftherocktothedirtfloor.Thebureaucrat,whileconsiderablylargerandseveralyearsyoungerthanFarhad,wasnomatchforthewirymantrainedinphysicalcombat.ThemostcombatCharlesBoyntonhaddonewaswiththevendingmachineatFoggyBottom.Andeventhenhelost.
Beforeheknewit,Boyntonwasinastranglehold.
“Stopit,”demandedKatherine.“Wedon’thavetimeforthis.”SheshovedFarhad,whoturnedangryeyesonher,andforamomentKatherinethoughthewasgoingtoattackher.ButhepulledbackandreleasedBoynton,whostaggeredup,holdinghisthroat.
“Sit,”Katherinesaid,andbothdid.ShealsoregainedherseatandleanedclosertoFarhad.“Haveyoubeentothatfacility?”
Againheglancedaround,thengaveasmallnod.“Ideliveredsomethingincrates.Idon’tknowwhatitwas.”
“Tellmewhereitis.”
“BajaurDistrict,justoutsideKitkot.Anoldcementfactory.Butyou’llnevergettoit.TheTaliban’severywhere.”
“Whoknowswherethebombsareplanted?Whichcitiesandwhere?”demandedKatherine.
“Dr.Shah.”
“And?Othersmust.Hedidn’tdeliverthemhimself.”
“Someoneatthefactorywouldknow.They’dhavetoarrangefortheshipping.Andthere’dbepeopleintheUStoplacethem.ButIdon’tknowwhotheyare.AllIknowiswhatI’veheard.”
“Andthatis?”
“It’sjustrumor.Look,Dr.Shahislikeamyth.Allsortsoffantasticstorieshavebuiltuparoundhim.Thathe’shundredsofyearsold.Thathecankillyouwithalook.”
“Thathe’stheAzhiDahaka,”saidAnahita.
Farhadhadturnedgraywithterrorandnodded.
“Facts,notmyths,”demandedKatherine.“Comeon.Comeon.”
Shenoticedthattheflamesinthelanterns,whoseglasschimneyshadbeenraised,werewavering.Andshefeltaslightbreeze.Enoughtoraisethehairsonherforearms.
Itwas,shethought,justthementionofShah.Herimagination.
Buttheflameswerenowunmistakablyfluttering.Othershadbeguntonoticeittoo.
“Tellme,”saidKatherine,loweringhervoicebutraisingherintensity.
Farhad’seyeshadwidened,andtheRevolutionaryGuardshadliftedtheirriflesandtightenedtheirgrips.Turningtowardthedarknessbehindthem.
ThefirstshothitFarhadinthechest.
KatherineswungherarmsoutandknockedbothZaharaandBoyntonofftheirboulders,evenassheherselfrolledoffandlayonthedirtfloor,tryingtoshelterbehindtherocksasbulletssprayedandricocheted.
ShesawCharlesBoyntoncrawlovertoFarhad,grabbinghisgunandleaningcloseasthedyingmanmouthedwords,thencoughedbloodontoBoynton’sface.
BoyntonlookedoveratKatherine,hiseyeswidewithterror.
Farhadwasdead.Andothers,includingoneoftheRevolutionaryGuards,hadalsobeencutdown.
“Zahara!”criedDr.Ahmadioverthegunfire.
Theremainingguardhadtakenpositioninacreviceofthecavewallandwasfiringback,intothedarkness.
Theyhadtogetawayfromthelight,Katherineknew.Or,betterstill,theyhadtogetthelightawayfromthem.
Shesteeledherself.
Anahita,who’dbeenwatchingher,guessedwhatKatherinewasabouttodo,andpreparedherself.
Atthenextburstofgunfirefromtheguard,bothwomenleaptbackintothestonecircleand,grabbingthelanterns,theythrewthemintothedarkness.Towardwheretheenemygunfirewascomingfrom.Thentheyhittheground,coveringup.
Theguardhadbeenshotandwasslumpedagainstthewall,butthewomanagenthadreachedhimandtakentheAK-47.
Asthelanternsstruckthegroundandexploded,theirattackersweresuddenlyilluminated.
“Poimet,”oneofthemyelledinRussian.Itwasthelastthinghesaidastheagentfired.“Fuck.”
Boyntonalsoturnedhisgunonthemandkeptfiringasbulletssprayedthecavern.
InthebarrageofgunfireKatherinehadrolledbacktothedubiousshelterofthebouldersandnowlaywithherarmsoverherhead.Whenitended,sheslowlyliftedherhead.
Therewasacridsmokehangingintheair.Asitdissipated,asceneofcarnagewasrevealed.
“Baba?”
KatherineandAnahitaturnedtoseeZaharacrawlingtowardherfather,whowasfaceup,spread-eagle,wherehe’dfallen.Hitbyaburstofmachine-gunfireashe’dtriedtomakehiswaytohisdaughter.
“Baba?”Zaharahadreachedherfatherandwaskneelingbesidehim.
Katherinewenttogotoher,butAnahitastoppedher.“Giveheramoment.”
Farhadwasalsodead,asweretheRevolutionaryGuardsandbothoftheIranianagents.
“Charles,”saidKatherine,goinguptoBoynton,whoselegshadgivenwayandlefthimsittinglikeachildontheground.Achildwithagun.“Areyouallright?Areyouhurt?”
Shekneltdownandgentlytooktheweaponaway.
Helookedather,hislowerlipandchintrembling.“IthinkIkilledsomeone.”
Sheheldhishand.“Youhadnochoice.Youhadto.”
“Maybehe’sjusthurt.”
“Yes,maybe.”Katherinetookoutatissue,lickedit,andrubbedFarhad’scongealingbloodoffhisface.
“Hesaid”—BoyntonlookedtowardFarhad,whowasstaringupasthoughmesmerizedbythemagnificentarthoveringabovehimontheceilingofthecave—“‘WhiteHouse.’”
“What?”
“Hesaid,‘WhiteHouse.’Whatcoulditmean?”
CHAPTER32
PresidentWilliams’seyeswerebright,focused.Takingitallin.WitheverywordEllenuttered,hishandshadslowlyclenchedintofistssotightBetsybelievedtheywouldsoonweepblood.Hisnailscuttingintothefleshwouldmakestigmata.
Thescientistsmurderedonthebusesweredecoys.
Therealnuclearscientists,farmoreaccomplishedthantheothers,hadbeeninDr.Shah’semployforayearormore.
Shahhadbeenreleased,andacceleratedworktodevelopanuclearweaponsprogramfortheTalibanandAl-Qaeda.CertainelementswithinPakistanandRussiaknewaboutit.
They’dsucceededincreatingatleastthreebombs,alreadyplacedinAmericancities.Andsettogooffanyday,anymomentnow.
Buttheydidn’tknowwhere.Theydidn’tknowwhen.Theydidn’tknowhowbig.
“Finished?”heasked.WhenSecretaryAdamsnodded,hehitabuttonandBarbStenhauserappeared.“TelltheVicePresidenttogetherselfontoAirForceTwoandflytoCheyenneMountaininColoradoSpringsandawaitfurtherinstructions.”
“Yes,Mr.President.”Stenhauserlookedshockedbutdisappearedwithoutaskingquestions.
HeturnedbacktoEllen.“Allthiscamefromyourson?”
Ellenbracedfortheinnuendo,ifnotoutrightaccusation:HowcouldGilknowifhewasn’thimselfinonit?Ifhehadn’tbeenradicalizedwhileincaptivity?Hehad,everyoneknew,convertedtoIslam.HelovedtheMiddleEast,despitewhathadhappened.
Howcouldtheypossiblytrusthisinformation?
“He’sabraveman,”saidDougWilliams.“Pleasethankhim.Now,weneedmoreinformation.”
“IthinktheGrandAyatollahwastryingtogivemesome.”
“Whywouldhedothat?”
“Becausehe’slookingatsuccession,atthefutureofIran,andhedoesn’twantitpassedoutofhishands,toanadversary,orintoRussiancontrol.NordoeshewantAmericaninvolvement.Butheseesanarrowpathforward.Wherethecatandratcooperate.”
“Sorry?”
“Nevermind.Justastory.”
ThePresidentwasnodding.Hedidn’tneedtohearthefabletounderstand.“IfwestopShah,webothwin.”
“ButAyatollahKhosravicouldn’tbeseentogivemetheinformation.I’veleftmydaughter,Katherine,behind,withCharlesBoynton,inthehopesI’mright.TheAyatollahhadoneofmyFSOsarrested.AnahitaDahir.”
“Theonewhoreceivedthewarningmessage?”ThePresidentmadeanoteofhername.
“Yes.”Noneedrightnow,Ellenthought,totellhimaboutherfamilybackground.“ThenhehadmeejectedfromIran.”
“I’llalertourpeopleattheSwissembassyinTehranthatoneofourFSOsisbeingheldillegally.”
“No,pleasedon’t.”
Hishand,reachingforthephone,stopped.“Whynot?”
“IthinktheGrandAyatollahdiditsothathecouldpasstheinformationontothem.”
“Butwhynottoyou?”
“I’mtooconspicuous.HehadtogetmeoutofIran.Heknewanyonewatching—”
“TheRussians—”
“OrthePakistanisorShah—wouldbefollowingme.They’llthinkI’vebeenhumiliated—”
“Well,”saidWilliams,andmadeaface.
“—andtheywon’tcarethatmydaughterandBoyntonhavebeenleftbehindtotrytogettheFSOreleased.”
“Butyou’resayingthey’vebeenleftbehindtogettheinformationtheGrandAyatollahwantstopasson.Whatinformation?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“Youdon’tevenknowifthat’swhathehasinmind.You’reriskingalot,Ellen.”
Everything,shethoughtbutdidn’tsay.“There’salotatstake.”
“Boynton,”saidthePresident.“YourChiefofStaff.Isn’thetheonewholostthebattlewiththeTwinkie?”
“IbelieveitwasaHoHo.”
“Well,atleastnoonewillsuspecthimofbeingaspy.Havetheydiscoveredanything?”
Ellentookabreath.“Ihaven’theardfromtheminseveralhours.”
DougWilliamsbithisupperlipandgaveacurtnod.“Weneedtofindoutwherethosebombsareplanted.Andweneedtofindoutwherethey’rebeingmade.”
“Agreed,Mr.President.Idon’tthinkGeneralWhiteheadwilltellyou,thoughIthinkheknows.”
“We’llbeatitoutofhimifwehaveto.”
Ellen,who’dbeenappalledbythebrutalityof“enhancedinterrogations,”nowfoundwithinherselfadeepwellofsituationalethics.Iftorturewouldgettheinformationoutofhim,mightsavethousandsoflives,thenbringiton.
Ellenloweredhereyestoherhands,fingersintertwined,knuckleswhite,inherlap.
“Whatisit?”Betsyasked.
Ellenlookedupandheldherfriend’seyes.Betsygaveasmallsnortofunderstanding.
“Youcan’tdoit,canyou.Theenddoesn’tjustifythemeans…”
“Theendisdefinedbythemeans,”saidEllen,thenlookedatDougWilliams.“Therearebetter,fasterwaysthantorture.Weknowthatundertorturepeoplewillsayanythingtomakeitstop.Notnecessarilythetruth.Besides,Whiteheadwillholdouttoolong.Weneedtosearchhishome.Hewouldn’tkeepthatinformationathisofficeinthePentagon,andIdoubthe’dkeepitonhiscomputer.He’dhavenotessomewhereinhishome.”
Williamspickedupthephone.“Where’sTimBeecham?”
“Atthehospital,sir.Hisnosehasbeenbroken.Heshouldbereleasedsoon.”
“Wedon’thavetime.Sendhisdeputyinhere.Now.”
“I’dliketogowiththem,”saidEllen,gettingup.
“Go,”saidWilliams.“Letmeknow.I’llgetintouchwithourallies.SeewhattheirintelligenceservicescanpickupaboutthoseotherscientistsworkingforShah.”
Sirensblaring,themotorcadedrovetoBethesda,Ellencheckingherphonethewholeway.
Thedreadwasalmostinsupportable.Supposesheneverheard?Supposeshe’dsentherchildrentotheirdeaths?Andnever,everfoundoutwhathappenedtothem?
MaybesheshouldcontactAzizinTehran.TheIranianForeignMinistercouldsendpeopletoBaluchestan,tothecaves.Tosee…
Butshehesitated.
SheneededtogiveKatherinemoretime.ContactingAzizwouldblowthewholething.
Insteadsheforcedherselftofocusonthejobinfrontofthem.FindingtheinformationGeneralWhiteheadhadhiddenaway.
“Didhesayanythingtoyou?”Ellenasked,forthehundredthtime.“Anythingatallthatcouldhelp?”
Betsyhadrackedherbrains.“Nothingexceptthatfuckingpoetry.Andthat’snohelp.”
Ithadbeenchilling,thewayhe’dquotedJohnDonne.Again.
TheypulledintothedriveofaCape-stylehome,withapicketfenceanddormersandawide,sweepingverandawithrockingchairs.
Thefactthatitlookedsotypically,almoststereotypically,AmericanmadeEllenevenangrier.Shecouldfeelherbilerising.
Agentspoundedonthefrontdoorwhileothersswarmedaroundback.
Justastheywereabouttoknockthedoordown,awomananswered.Hergrayhairwasnicelydoneinasimplebutclassiccut.Sheworeslacksandasilkblouse.
Elegant,Ellenthought,butnotatallpretentious.
“Whatisit?What’shappening?”sheasked.Hertoneonthevergeofdemanding,butnotquite.Asshewaspushedaside,shesaid,“Where’sBert?”
Shelookedpastthem,searchingforherhusband.HereyescomingtorestontheAmericanSecretaryofState.
Sheheldthecollarofalargedogwhowaslookingexcitedandpuzzled.Fromdeeperinthehousecamethesoundofachildcrying.
“What’shappening?”
“Standaside,”oneoftheagentssaid,shovingher.
EllennoddedtoBetsy,whotookMrs.Whitehead’sarmandledherinthedirectionofthecryingchild.
Bynowtheagentswereallovertheplace.Pullingbooksfromshelves,upendingchairsandsofas.Takingpaintingsoffthewalls.Sothatthehome,graciousandcomfortablemomentsearlier,wasnowindisarray.Andgettingworse.
BetsyfollowedtheGeneral’swifeintothekitchenwhileEllenfoundthestudy,wheretheDeputyDirectorofNationalIntelligenceandthesenioroperativesweresearching.
Theroomwaslargeandbright,withhugewindowslookingoutoverthebackgarden,whereachild’shomemadeswinghadbeenhung.Itwasathickwoodenplank,withropeattachedtothelimbofanoaktree.
Afootball,madeforchildren,satabandonedonthegrass.
Thestudywallswerelinedwithbookcases,stuffedwithvolumesandframedphotos,allofwhichwerebeingtakendown,examined,thentossedontothefloor.
Whattheroomdidn’thaveweremedalsorcitations.
Justpicturesofchildrenandgrandchildren.OfBertWhiteheadandhiswife.Ofbuddies.Ofcomrades.
Whilethewhirlwindswirledaroundher,SecretaryAdamsstoodagainstawall.Wondering.
Whatmadeamandosuchathing?Betrayhiscountry?Murderfellowcitizens?OneofthenuclearbombshadalmostcertainlybeenplacedinDC.AlmostcertainlyintheWhiteHouseitself.
ThePresidentknewittoo,whichwaswhyhe’dsenthisVPandseniorcabinet,exceptforEllen,away.Theblast,andthefallout,wouldbefeltformiles.Incinerating,irradiatingeverything,everyone,initspath.
WhathadhappenedtoBertWhitehead?Ifconspiringwithterroristswastheanswer,whatintheworldwasthequestion?
EllenfoundBetsyandtheothersinthekitchen,whereMrs.Whiteheadandherdaughterwerebeinginterrogated.
Shelistenedatthedoorforaminuteortwoasthewomenwerepepperedwithquestionsfromtwointelligenceagents,whilethecryingchildstruggledinitsmother’sarms.
“Canyouleaveus,please?”saidEllen.
Theagents,annoyed,lookedover,thenleapttotheirfeet.
“I’dliketospeakwithMrs.Whiteheadandherdaughterprivately.”
“Wecan’tdothat.”
“DoyouknowwhoIam?”
“Yes,MadamSecretary.”
“Good.I’vetraveledallnightfrommyson’shospitalbedinFrankfurt”—shestretchedthetruth—“tobehere.Ithinkyoucangiveusafewminutes.”
Theylookedateachother,clearlyunhappy.Buttheyleft.
Beforetakingaseat,Ellenlookedatthecryingchild,thensaidtothedaughter,“Perhapsyoucantakehimoutside.Freshair.”
“Mom?”
Mrs.Whiteheadgaveasmallnod.Whenthedaughterandgrandsonleft,Ellensatandstudiedthewoman.Itwasclearthatangerwasbattlingfear,wasbattlingconfusion.
ButEllenwasalsoperplexed.Mrs.Whiteheadlookedfamiliar.Ellenknewherfromsomewhere.
Andthenshehadit.“It’snotMrs.Whitehead,isit.”
ShesawBetsy’sbrowsgoup,butsheremainedquiet.
“ItiswhenI’mathome.”
“It’sProfessorMarthaTierney.YouteachEnglishlitatGeorgetown.”
Oneofthebookssplayedopenonthefloorofthestudyhadthiswoman’sfaceonit.Anauthorphoto,albeitfromyearsago.ThebookwascalledKingsandDesperateMen,fromapoembyJohnDonne.Itwasabiographyofthemetaphysicalpoet.
“Whydoesyourhusbandkeepquoting,‘Whenthouhastdone,thouhastnotdone’?”
“‘ForIhavemore,’”ProfessorTierneyfinishedtheline.“It’saplayonwords.I’maDonnescholar.ThatprettymuchmakesBertaDonnescholartoo.Iguesshelikesthatquote.”
“Yes,butwhy?”
“Idon’tknow.I’veneverheardhimmentionit.You’renotheretodiscusspoetry,MadameSecretary.Tellmewhat’shappening.Where’smyhusband?”
“SoifcloseproximitytoyouforyearsmadehimaDonnescholar,”saidEllen,“doesthatmakeyouasecurityexpert?”
“Iwantalawyer,”saidProfessorTierney.“AndIwanttospeaktoBert.”
“I’mnotacopandyou’renotunderarrest.I’maskingyoutohelpus.Tohelpyourcountry.”
“ThenIneedtoknowwhatthisisabout.”
“No.Youneedtoanswerourquestions.”Ellenloweredhervoiceandhertone.“Iknowthisisashock.Iknowit’sfrightening.Justplease,telluswhatweneedtoknow.”
ProfessorTierneypaused,thennodded.“I’llhelpinanywayIcan.Justtellme,isBertallright?”
“HasyourhusbandevermentionedBashirShah?”
“Thearmsdealer.Yes.Justtheotherday.Hewasrantingabouthimbeingreleasedfromhousearrest.”
“Hetoldyouthat?”saidEllen.
“Isitastatesecret?”askedProfessorTierney.
Ellenconsidered.“No,Isupposenot.”
“No.Berthasnever,wouldnever,tellmeanythingthatwas.”
“SohewassurprisedbyShah’srelease?”
“Shocked.AndangrierthanI’veseenhiminalongtime.”
Ellenfeltherselftemptedtobelieveit,butofcourse,that’swhatthesepeople,thesetraitors,tradedon.People’swillingnesstobelievetheworst,buttodismissthecatastrophic.
IfGeneralWhiteheadwasangry,itwasn’tbecauseShahwasfree,butbecausethey’dfoundout.
“Wheredoesyourhusbandkeephisprivatepapers?”askedEllen.
Afteraslightpause,ProfessorTierneysaid,“There’sasafebehindthebookcaseclosesttothestudydoor.”
Ellenwasonherfeet.“Thecombination?”
“Letmecome.I’llopenit.”
“No.Weneedthecombination.”
Thetwowomenstaredateachother,andfinallytheprofessorgaveittoherandexplained,“It’sthedatesofourchildren’sbirthdays.”
Ellenleftandreturnedafewminuteslater.“Let’sgo,”shesaidtoBetsy.
Onceinthecar,ontheirwaybacktoDC,Betsyasked,“So?Whatwasinthesafe?”
“Nothingexceptbirthcertificatesforthekids.They’llbeanalyzedincasethere’ssomethinghiddeninthem,but…”
BetsynoticedthatEllenhadn’tcomeawayempty-handed.SheclutchedProfessorTierney’sbook.
KingsandDesperateMen.
Andwomen,thoughtBetsy.
ItwasonlyonceacrosstheborderintoPakistanthatGilfoundasignal.Pullingover,hequicklytypedamessagetohismother.
Itwasn’tsafetobeinavehiclestoppedonthesideoftheroad,sohedidn’tdawdle.Aftersendingitoff,heheadedtotheairport,stillseveralhoursaway.
“I’llgo,”saidAnahita.
“I’llgowithyou,”saidZahara.“Myfather.Ihaveto…”
TheywereatthecarFarhadhadusedtodrivethemthere.Butthekeyswerenowheretobefound.Stillwithhim,theyrealized.
Katherine,havinglostherownfathersuddenly,understood.Shegaveabriefnod.“Go,buthurryback.Godknowswhoelseisheadedhere.SomeoneobviouslytoldtheRussiansaboutthismeeting.”
“Farhad,”saidBoynton.“Hewasplayingallsides.”
KatherinegaveAnahitathegunthatBoyntonhadtakenfromthedeadman.“Hurry.”
Thecousins,somuchalikeinshapeandmovement,scrambleduptheslopetogethertothecaveentrance.Oncein,theyranthroughthenowfamiliarpassages,towardtheglowfromthebrokenlanterns.
Theyhadn’tgottenveryfarwhenZaharaslowedtoastopandliftedherhand.Anastoodbesideher.Tense.Everysensevibrating.
Andthensheheardittoo.
Voices.Russianvoices.
“Shit,”shemuttered.“Fuck,fuck,fuck.”
Shelookedbehindher,towardthecaveentrance.Thenbacktowardtheslightglowandangrybrutishvoices.
Therewasnochoice.Theyneededthosekeys.
Crouchingdown,Anainchedtowardtheopencavern.Darkanddistortedshadowsmovedaboutinthepassageonthefarsideofthecavern.ShelookedatZahara,whowasstaringatthebodyofherfather.Hewaslyingwherehe’dfallen,partlyhiddenbehindtheboulders.
“Go,”Anawhispered.“Butbequick.”
Shewasn’tsurewhatZaharahadtodo,andnowwasn’tthetimetodiscussit.
Onherbelly,AnaslitheredtoFarhad’sbodyand,forcingherselftolook,shepattedhimdownandfoundthekeys.
Carefully,carefully,carefullyshewithdrewthem,tryingnottomakeasound.
Clutchingthekeystightinherfist,sheglancedtowardZaharajustashercousinkissedherfatherontheforehead,thenbackedawayonherhandsandknees.
They’dgottenasfarastheentrancetothepassagewaythatwouldtakethembackoutwhentherewasashout.Andaflashlightbeamhitthem.
Thecousinsturnedandran.Notlookingback.Notbotheringtohide.Theysprinteddownthepassagetowardwherethesunshonethroughthenarrowopening,likethebladeofaknife.
Theycouldhearbootsbehindthem,andshoutedorders.
Squeezingthrough,AnashoutedtoKatherineandBoynton,“There’remore.They’veseenus.”
“They’recoming,”shoutedZahara,scramblingandslidingdowntheslope.
Katherinerantomeetthem,grabbingthekeysfromAnahita.“Getin!”
Theydidnotneedtobecoaxed.Asthevehiclestarted,therewereshots.Anarolleddownthewindowandfiredback.Wildly.She’dneverheldahandgun,letalonefiredone.Butitwasenoughtomakethetwomenatthecaveentranceduck.
Katherinehitthegasandtheytookoff.WhenAnalookedback,themenhaddisappeared.
Butnotforlong,sheknew.Katherineknew.Theyallknew.
Theywouldbeafterthem.
Boyntonhadfoundoldmapslitteringthebackseat,andwastryingtofigureoutwheretheywereandwheretheyweregoing.
“Myphone’soutofpower,”saidKatherine,strugglingtokeeptheoldcarfromskiddingofftheroad.“WeneedtoletMomknowwhatFarhadsaidaboutShah’sphysicists.Charles?”
“I’monit,”saidBoynton,fightingtogetthemapoutofhisway.Zaharagrabbeditasthecarshimmiedandbounced.
Charles’sphonewasinthered.Threeminutesofpowerleft.
Hewrotequicklybuttookpreciousmomentstomakesuretherewerenotypos.Nowwasnotthetimetomakemistakes.
Hehitsendandexhaled.
“Wheredowego?”askedAna.
Inthedistance,acloudofdustwaspursuingthem.Thevehiclewassilent.Theybarelyknewwheretheywere,nevermindwheretheycouldgo.
“Pullover,please,”saidEllen,andtheDiplomaticSecurityagentatthewheeldid.
“MadameSecretary?”askedSteve,inthefrontpassengerseat,turningtolookather.
Butshewasquiet,readingandrereadingthetwomessagesthathadcomeinalmostsimultaneously.
FirstGil’s,fromthatAkbar’sphone,sayinghewasheadinghometoDCviaFrankfurt.
ThenonefromCharlesBoynton.
Elleninhaleddeeply,thenleanedforwardandspoketothedriver.“WeneedtogettotheWhiteHouse.Asfastasyoucan.”
“Right.”
Thesirenwasputon,and,lightsflashing,theyspedthroughthestreets.
“El?”saidBetsy.“Whatisit?”
“KatherineandBoyntongottheinformation.Weknowwherethebombsarebeingmade.”
“Oh,thankGod.Doweknowwherethey’vebeenplaced?Whichcities?”
“No,butwewillonceweraidthefactory.Gilwrotetoo.He’sheadingbackhere.I’vetoldhimnotto.”
Betsynoddedandtriedtolooklikeherhairwasn’tonfire.“Atleastthey’resafe.”
“Well…,”saidEllen.ItwasclearfromCharles’smessagethattheywerefarfromsafe.“CanyoulookupcaveartofSaravan?It’sinSistan-BaluchestanProvinceinIran.”
WhileBetsydid,sheasked,“Why?”
“BecauseIsentKatherineandBoyntonthere.”
“Togetthemoutofdanger?”
“Notexactly.”WhenBetsyhadthemapofthatpartofIranuponherphone,Ellenlooked,tracingalineacrosstheborderbetweenIranandPakistan.Thensheshotoffamessagetoherson.
Gilheardthepingandpulledovertoreadthereplyfromhismother.
Thenhedidaquickmapsearch.“Shit.”
Heconsideredforjustamoment,thensenthisreply.
EllencouldseethedomeoftheCapitolBuildingwhenGil’smessagearrived.
SheforwardedittoBoynton,withafewwordsaddedherself.Thenshethrewherselfbackintheseatandthought.
TherewasoneminuteofpowerleftonBoynton’sphonewhenthemessagefromhisbossappeared.
“Pen,paper,quickly,”hesaid,and,grabbingthemapfromZahara,hescribbledafewwordsbeforehisphonediedcompletely.
“Pakistan,”hesaidtotheothers.“WeneedtogettoPakistan.”
“Areyouinsane?”saidZahara.“I’mIranian.They’llprobablykillus.”
“Theycertainlywill,”saidAna,gesturingtowardthedustcloudfollowingthem,asthoughtheTasmanianDevilwereinpursuit.
CharlesleanedforwardandspoketoKatherine.“Yourbrother’sinPakistan.Hecanmeetus.Hehasfriendsandcontactsthere.Ihavethenameofthetown.It’snotfarfromtheborder.Wejusthavetogetacross.”
Katherineglancedintherearviewmirror.Thewhirlwindwasgettingcloser.
WhileZaharaandAnahitatriedtoworkoutthebestwaytotheborder,CharlesBoyntonsatbackandstaredahead.
Somethinghadbeenbotheringhim.Somethingthathe’dforgotten.Andthenheremembered.Quicklypullinghisphoneout,heclickedandclicked,buttherewasnojuiceleft.Itwasdead.
He’dforgottentotellSecretaryAdamswhatFarhadhadsputteredwithhislastbreath.
WhiteHouse.
CHAPTER33
EllenandBetsywerebarelythroughthedoortotheOvalOfficebeforePresidentWilliamssaid,“Didyoufindanything?”
“NotatWhitehead’shouse,butKatherineandCharlesBoyntonhavefoundoutwhereShahhasinstalledthephysicists.They’reprettysurewe’llalsofindinformationthereaboutwherethebombsarehidden.”
“ThankGod.Whereisthisplace?”
“InPakistan,closetotheAfghanborder.”Shegavehimthespecificinformation.
“Thatshouldbeeasyenoughtofind,”hesaid.“AnabandonedcementfactoryintheBajaurDistrictofPakistan,justoutsideKitkot,”herepeated,double-checkingthathehaditright.WhenEllennodded,hehittheintercom.“GetGeneralWhiteheadinhere—”
Thenstoppedhimself.
“Sir,theGeneral—”Stenhausersaid.
“Yes,Iforgot.TelltheCommanderofUSSpecialForcesCommandtomeetmeintheSituationRoom.Now.AndtellTimBeechamtobetheretoo.Isheoutofthehospital?”
“Ijusthadamessagefromhim,Mr.President.He’sonhiswaytoLondonforthatmeetingoftheintelligenceservices.ShouldIrecallhim?”
“No,”saidEllen,andwhenPresidentWilliamslookedather,shesaid,“It’simportanthebeatthosetalks.”
Williamsnarrowedhiseyes,butsaidintotheintercom,“No,Barb.Lethimgo.”Thenhecollectedpapersfromhisdeskandsaid,“Comewithme.”
“I’msorry,Mr.President,butIwantyourpermissiontogotoPakistantomeetwiththePrimeMinister.Ithinkit’stimewehaditout.”
“LikeyouandtheIranianshaditout,Ellen?”
“Wegottheinformation.”
“YoualsogotoneofyourFSOsarrestedandyourselfexpelledfromthecountry.”
“Wegottheinformation,”sherepeated.“Itwasn’tpretty,itwasn’tconventional,butwegotit.”
“Butcanwetrustit?”
“Areyouaskingifwecantrustmydaughter?”
“ForGod’ssake,Ellen,letitgo.IfuckedupwithGil.I’msorry.Ishould’vesteppedintogethimreleasedfromhiskidnappers.”
Ellenwaitedformore.
Allthosemonths,days,hours,minutes.Everyexcruciatingsecondshe’dbracedforthenewshersonhadbeenbeheaded.Toseeit.Toseeit.Nomatterhowshemighttrytoavoidit,theimageswouldhavebeenoneveryfrontpage,everynewscast.Everywebsite.
Gil’smotherwouldhavebeenforeverblindedbythatsight.Theimagewouldhavefloatedinfrontofeverythingelseshe’deverseefortherestofherlife.
AndthemanwhocouldhavesavedGilthatagony,couldhavesavedher,wassorry?
Shedidn’ttrustherselftospeak.InsteadshestoodintheOvalOffice,tryingtocatchherbreath.StaringatthePresidentoftheUnitedStates.Andwantingtohurthim.Ashe’dhurtherson.Hurther.
“Imagine,”shefinallysaid,“yoursonhadbeenbeheaded.”
“ButGilwasn’t.”
“Hewas,everynightandeveryday,inmymind.”
DougWilliamshadn’tconsideredthat,andnowanimageappeared.Ofhisownson,kneelingontheground.Filthy.Frightened.Thelongbladeathisthroat.
WilliamsgaspedandstaredatEllen,holdinghereyes.Long,longsecondspassedbeforehewhispered.“I’msorry.”
Andthistime,shecouldsee,hemeantit.Itwasn’tanexpedientpoliticalapology,meanttomakeaminormistakegoaway.Thewordswerewrungfromsomeplacedeepdown.
Hewassorry.
Heknewenoughnottoaskforherforgiveness.Itwouldneverbegiven,norshoulditbe.
“Ellen,I’mnotdoubtingyoursonordaughter,butIamquestioningtheirsources.”
“Peoplehavegiventheirlivestogetusthatinformation.It’sallwehave.Wehavetogowithit.IneedtogettoIslamabad,andIneedtoarrivewithallthepomp,allthedisplaysofpowerwecanmuster.Ifnothingelse,Ineedtobeadistractionwhileyouplanandcarryouttheraid.”
“Idon’tevenwanttoknowwhatyoumeanby‘distraction,’”saidthePresidentastheyhurrieddownthewidehallway,Ellenrunningtokeeppacewithhislongstrides.
“But…,”shesaid.
Williamsstopped,turned,andlookedather.“Whatisitnow?”
Shetookadeepbreath.“IwanttostopandseeEricDunnontheway.”
“InFlorida?Why?”
“Tofindoutwhatheknows.”
“YouthinktheformerPresidentisbehindthis?”demandedWilliams.“Look,Ihavenorespectfortheman,butIcan’timaginehe’dactuallyallownucleardevicestobedetonatedinAmericancities.”
“NeitherdoI,buthemightknowsomething,evenwithoutrealizingit.”
Betsy,listeningtothis,wasremindedofthefamouslineaboutPresidentReaganduringtheIran-Contrahearings.
Whatdidn’theknow,andwhendidheknowhedidn’tknowit?
WhatEricDunndidn’tknowwouldfillarchives.
OncetheyhadWilliams’sconsentandwereheadingtoAirForceThree,BetsylookedatthebookEllenstillhadwithher.
ProfessorTierney’sKingsandDesperateMen.ThebiographyofJohnDonne.
Betsysatbackintheseatandthoughtoftheconfrontationtocome.WhenthouhastDunn,shethought,thouhastnotDunn…
Shewaspropelledforwardasthoughshovedfrombehind.
“Jesus,El,that’swhatWhiteheadwassaying.Whathe’sbeensayingallalong.‘Dunn.’Not‘done.’Aplayonwords.JohnDonnewasdoingit.AndsowasWhitehead.That’swhyyouhavethebook,that’swhywe’regoingtoseeEricDunn.BecauseBertWhiteheadistellingusto.”
“Yes.”
“Butitmustbesometrick.Hewantsustowasteourtime.EricDunneitherknowsnothing,orheknowssomethingbutwouldnevertellus.Whiteheadismessingwithus,tryingtogetintoourheads.Abitofpsychologicalwarfare.”
“Maybe,”saidEllen.Sheleanedforwardandaskedhersecurityagentstotakeadetour,toTimBeecham’shomeinGeorgetown.
“Didn’ttheysayhewasonhiswaytoLondon?”askedBetsy.
“Yes,”saidEllen,andleftitatthat.
Oncethere,thehousekeeperconfirmedthathewasaway,andMrs.BeechamandtheirtwoteenagedsonshadleftfortheirvacationhomeinUtah.
JustastheirplanetookoffforFlorida,sheaskedBetsy,“WhyisBertWhiteheadstillinDC?”
“Well,he’sbeingheldinaninterviewroomintheWhiteHouseagainsthiswill.Maybethat’swhy.”
“AndwhyisTimBeechamnothere?”
“BecausehehasameetingofintelligencechiefsinLondon,togetmoreintel.Youyourselfsaiditwasimportanthebethere.”
“Anditis.”
“What’reyouthinking?”Betsyasked.
ButEllendidn’tanswer.Shewasdeepinthought.Lostinthought.
Onceatcruisingaltitude,theconsoleonEllen’sdeskbuzzedwithanincoming,encryptedmessage.ThePresidentwasonvideo.Ellentappedthescreeninfrontofher,andDougWilliams’sfaceappeared.
ShelookedatBetsy,whosmiledandleftthecompartment.Thiswastopsecret.NoteventheSecretaryofState’scounselorcouldbeinonit.
“I’mhere,Mr.President,”saidEllen.
“Good.We’reassembled.”PresidentWilliamsnoddedtotheGeneralsaroundthetable.
Andsobeganthemostimportantmeetingofanyoftheirlives.
HowtogetAmericanSpecialForcesintothatabandonedcementfactorytostopproductionofnuclearweaponsand,mostcrucially,findoutwherethey’dalreadybeenplaced.
Forwhatfeltlikethehundredthtimethatday,anassaultriflewasleveledatKatherineAdams.
Andsherealizeditwasnolongershocking.
Forthelasttwenty-fivekilometers,asthey’dracedfortheborderbetweenIranandPakistan,Katherinehadrehearsedwhattosay.Sheandtheothers,especiallyCharles,haddiscussedit.
Howtogetacross.Andhowtomakesuretheirpursuersdidnot.
“YouclaimtobethedaughteroftheAmericanSecretaryofState?”saidthePakistaniborderguard.
Anahitatranslated,andKatherinenodded.Hehadherpassport,alongwithBoynton’s.Theothersdidnothavepassports,ordocumentsofanysort.
ForreasonsKatherinedidn’tbothertothinktoomuchabout,thePakistaniborderguardconsideredtheirpassportsfarmoresuspiciousthantheothers’lackofanydocumentation.
“WhyareyoucrossingintoPakistan?Whatisyourpurpose?”
“Safety,”saidBoynton.“IknowyourPrimeMinisterwouldbeveryangrytolearnthatthedaughterandChiefofStaffoftheAmericanSecretaryofStatewerehurtorkilledbecauseyoudidn’tletusin.Itwouldbeapoliticalandpersonalnightmare.Forhim,andforyou.”
“But,”saidKatherine,tothenowconfusedandagitatedguard,“canyouimagine,whenwetellhimhowyousavedourlives,howpleasedhe’llbewithyou?What’syourname?”
Anahitawroteitdown.
Boyntonpointedtotheapproachingdustcloud.“ThatvehicleisfilledwithmembersoftheRussianmafia.Thosearetheonesyouneedtostop.Americaisyourally,Russiaisnot.”
Theotherguardappearedfromthehutandshowedhiscolleagueaphone.Whateverwasonitseemedtoconfirmtheiridentities.
CharlesBoyntonstaredatthephone,temptedtoaskifhecouldborrowit.Themorehethoughtaboutit,themorecrucialitbecametotellSecretaryAdamsaboutFarhad’sfinalwords,coughedoutasthoughwritteninblood.
WhiteHouse.
ButevenifthePakistaniguardwouldgivehimhisphone,BoyntoncouldnotpossiblyuseittosendamessagetotheAmericanSecretaryofState’sprivateandsecurecell.ThoughCharlescontinuedtostareatitasthoughitwerearibsteak,andheastarvingman.
“Andthem?”TheguardpointedhisgunatAnahitaandZahara.“Iranisnotourfriend.Thesepeoplehavenodocuments.Ican’tletthemcross.”
Thiswasthedanger.ThattheguardswouldagreetoletinKatherineandBoynton,butnottheothers.
“Well,sincetheyhavenodocuments,”saidKatherine,“howdoyouknowthey’renotPakistani?”
“They’renot.”
“Theymightbe.Look,wewon’tleavewithoutourfriends,somakeyourdecision.AretheyIranianorPakistani?Dowegetacrossandyou’reahero?Ordoyouturnusawayandyou’reinaworldoftrouble?”
“TheyhaveassignedustoanoutpostalongtheborderwithIran,madame,”saidthenewguard,ingoodEnglish,handingthembacktheirpassports.“Howmuchworsecoulditget?”
“YouhaveaborderwithAfghanistan,doyounot?”saidCharles.“Thatcan’tbeapicnic.”
Heshrugged.“You’dbesurprised.”Buthecouldseetheywouldnotbe.“Areyoubringinginanyalcohol?Anytobacco?”Theyshooktheirheads.“Anyfirearms?”
HelookeddirectlyattheguninAna’slap.
Theyshooktheirheads,andhewavedthemthrough.NotoutoflovefortheUS,butfearofhisownPrimeMinister.AndtheAfghanborder.
Astheypulledaway,theyheardhimmutter,“FuckingAmericans.”Butitwaswithoutrancor,andalmostwithadmiration.Almost.
Katherinedidn’tcare.
Thisregion,infacttheentirearbitraryborder,wasacauldronoffactions,oftriballoyalties.Ofgrievancescenturiesold.Ofmixed,divided,complexallegiances.AlmostnoneofthemtotheUS.ButneitherweretheyfansofRussia.
Katherinegunnedthecar,andastheyroundedthecorner,shesaw,intherearviewmirror,thestormcloudarriveattheborder.
Softmutteringscamefromthebackseat.
Zaharaheldastringofprayerbeads,andwitheachbeadshemurmured,“Alhamdulillah.”
Anahitajoinedin.
Thebeadswerewornandslightlyshiny,fromDr.Ahmadi’sfingersrepeatingtheprayermanytimesadayallhislife.Zaharahadriskedherlifetogetthem.Avestigeofamansheloved.Despitewhathe’ddone.Onehorriblethingdidnotwipeoutalifetimeofdevotion.
“Alhamdulillah.”
Astheyracedthroughthesmalltownsandvillages,towardtherendezvouswithGil,firstBoynton,thenKatherinejoinedinuntilthefilthyshitboxofacarwasfilledwiththesoftlymutteredword,repeated.Overandover.Bringingwithitsomethingclosetocalm.
Alhamdulillah.
AllthanksandpraisesbetoAllah.
ThankGod,thoughtKatherine.NowtheyjusthadtofindGil.
EllenwatchedastheheadofSpecialForcesbentovera3-DtopographicalmapoftheBajaurregionofPakistan.Heexpertlysweptitaround,exploring,manipulating,searching.
“Backin2008,therewasabattleofBajaur.”Hezoomedinandmovedon.“PakistaniforcesfoughttodislodgetheTalibanfromtheregion.Eventuallytheywon,drivingthemout.Butitwasbrutal.ThePakistanisfoughtbravely,relentlessly.I’msorrytoheartheTalibanareback.”HelookedupandmetthePresident’seyes.“Wehadadvisorsthereatthetime.Intelligenceandmilitary.BertWhiteheadwasoneofthem.HewasaColonelthen.Heknowstheregion.Heshouldbehere,Mr.President.”
“GeneralWhiteheadisneededelsewhere,”saidPresidentWilliams.
Lookswereexchangedbetweenthemilitarymenandwomenintheroom.They’dclearlyheardtherumors.
“Soit’strue?”oneofthemsaid.
“Moveon,”saidPresidentWilliams.“Weneedtogettothatfactory.Howdowedoit?”
Isthatwhereithadbegun?Ellenwondered.HadahairlinefractureformedinColonelWhitehead’sbeliefsasthebrutalfightingswirledinthemountainsandvalleysandcaves?
Astheyearswentby,hadheseentoomuch?Beenforcedtodotoomuch?Beenforcedtobesilentasactshefoundrepulsivewerecommitted?
Hadheseentoomanyyoungmenandwomendie,whileothersprofited?HadthecrackinColonelWhiteheadspreadslowly,overtime,untilitbecameachasminGeneralWhitehead?
Takingoutherphone,shelookeduptheBattleofBajaurandsawithadbeencalledOperationLionHeart.
Hadthelionescapedthetrap,butlefthisheartbehind?
Puttingdownherphone,shefocusedonwhatwashappeningbackinDC,intheSituationRoom.Shewasnoexpertinmilitarytactics.HerjobwouldbetosmooththingsoveronceitbecamecleartothePakistanisthattheUShadconductedacovertmilitaryoperationinsidetheirborders,withoutpermission,andcaptured,maybekilled,Pakistanicitizens.
Withluck,shethought,BashirShahwouldbeamongthedead.Butshedoubtedit.HowdoyoukillanAzhiDahaka?
Shefocusedonthemap,ontherugged,near-impenetrableterrain.WheresheandPresidentWilliamssawvillagesandmountainrangesandrivers,thegeneralssawsomethingelse.Theysawopportunitiesanddeathtraps.Theysawlandingsitesforchoppersandparatroopers.Andtheysawhowthosetroopswouldbecutdownbeforetheirbootshittheground.
“This’sgoingtotakesometime,Mr.President,”saidtherankinggeneral.
“Well,wedon’thavetime.”WilliamslookedatSecretaryAdamsonthescreen.Shenodded.Ithadtobedone.
“ItoldyouthatterroristsareusingthatfactorytocreateanuclearprogramfortheTaliban,”hesaid.“Butthere’ssomethingelse.”
ForIhavemore,thoughtEllen.
“Wehaveintelligencethatsaysthey’vebuiltthreedevicesandhaveplacedtheminAmericancities.”
Thegenerals,who’dupuntilthenbeenbendingoverthemap,stoodupasoneandstared.Unabletospeakforamoment.
Itfeltlikeagorgehadnowopened,separatingthoseintheroomfromtherestoftheworld.Anuncrossablespacefromnotknowingtoknowing.
“Wehavetogetintothatfactory,”saidPresidentWilliams.“Tostopthescientists,butmostly,rightnow,tofindoutwherethosebombsarehidden.”
“Ineedtocallmywife,”saidoneofficer,makingforthedoor.“GetherandthechildrenoutofDC.”
“Myhusbandanddaughters,”saidanother,alsomakingforthedoor.
Williamsnoddedtotheofficersatthedoor,whotookastepinfrontofit.
“Nooneleavesuntilwehaveaplan.Wehaveoneshot,andweneedtotakeitinthenextfewhours.”
Ellenwatchedthis,hermindracing.Shetriedtoslowitdown,knowingwhereitwasheadingandnotlikingitatall.
She’dbeenhalfwaytherealready,buthadbeentoofrightenedtogotherestoftheway.Butnowshedid.
“MadameSecretary,”camethepilot’svoiceoverthespeaker.“WehavepermissionfromPalmBeachInternationaltoland.We’llbeonthegroundinsevenminutes.I’llneedtocutcommunications.”
“No,”shesnappedbeforeregulatinghertone.“I’msorry,butno.Ineedmoretime.Ifyouhaveto,circleagain.”
“Ican’t.Idon’thaveclearancefromairtrafficcon—”
“Thengetit.Ineedfivemoreminutes.”
Therewasapause.“Youhaveit.”
AsAirForceThreebankedandturned,Ellenspokeforthefirsttimeinthemeeting.
“Mr.President,Ineedtospeaktoyou.Privately.”
“We’reinthemiddle—”
“Please.Now.”
AftergettingoffthecallwiththePresident,andlettingthepilotknowshecouldland,Ellenlookedoutatthepalmtreesandtheoceansparklinginthebrightsunshine,andthoughtoftherusticswingandthefootball.Andthephotographs.Andthewhitepicketfence.
AndshethoughtofthemothersandfathersatthebarrierinFrankfurt,holdingphotosoftheirmissingchildren.Whilestaringattheflat,flappingredblanketsontheasphalt.
ShethoughtofKatherineandGil,somewhereinPakistan.
EllenAdamsthoughtofkingsanddesperatemen.Andwonderedifshe’djustmadetheworstmistakeofherlife.Ofanybody’slife.
CHAPTER34
SecretaryAdams’smotorcadearrivedatthetallgoldgatesatthefrontofEricDunn’sFloridaestate.
Eventhoughheknewtheywerecoming,eventhoughhisprivatesecuritycouldseetheirmotorcadearrivingdownthelong,longdrive,stilltheyweremadetowait.
SecretaryAdamssmiledandwascordialwhenthesecurityguards,essentiallyDunn’sprivatemilitia,askedforheridentification.Andtooktheirtimereturningit.UnnoticedbyDunn’speople,Ellen’skneewasbouncingupanddownwhileBetsywentthroughhertreasuryofswearwords.
SteveKowalski,Ellen’sheadofDiplomaticSecurity,alongtimeveteranoftheservice,turnedinthefrontseattolookatMrs.Cleaverasshecombinedandconjugatedwordsthatshouldnever,really,haveconjugalrelations.Theensuingprogenywasbothgrotesqueandhilarious,assheturnednounsintoverbs,andverbsintosomethingelseentirely.Itwasadisplayoflinguisticgymnasticstheagenthadn’tthoughtpossible.Andhe’dbeenamarine.
ItwasclearthatwhileheadmiredSecretaryAdams,headoredhercounselor.
Onthedrivefromtheairporttothegates,they’dwatchedanewsconferenceEricDunnhadgivenwhilethey’dbeenontheplane.He’dcalleditknowingtheywereontheirway.
ThesolepurposeappearedtobetothrowfilthalloverSecretaryAdams’sson.NotjustimplyingbutactuallyaccusingGilBaharofbeinginvolvedinthebombingsinLondon,Paris,andFrankfurt.Ofbeingradicalized.Ofwhisperinginhismother’sear,andperhapseventurningtheSecretaryofStateagainsttheUS.Acountry,heshoutedandgestured,nowweakenedbythechangeofgovernment.Acountrywheretheradicals,thesocialists,theterrorists,theabortionists,thetraitorsandmoronswereincharge.
“Youcangoinnow,”saidtheguard.HeworeaninsigniaEllenrecognizedfromtheirreportsonthealt-right.
“IstheSecretServicenolongerinchargeoftheformerPresident’ssecurity?”EllenaskedastheSUVdrovetherestofthewaytowardthehomethatlookedlikeacastle.
“Supposedlytheyare,”saidAgentKowalski.“Buthe’sputhisownpeopleonthefrontline.HethinkstheSecretServiceispartoftheDeepState.”
“Well,ifthatmeansprofoundlyloyaltotheUnitedStatesandthepositionofPresidentbutnottheindividual,thenhe’sright,”saidEllen.
Beforegoingin,shecheckedherphoneagain.NomessagefromKatherineorGilorBoynton.NomessagefromthePresident.
Handingherphonetotheheadofhersecuritydetail,shegotoutofthecar;thensheandBetsystoodatthehugedoubledoorsandwaitedforthemtoopen.
Andwaited.Andwaited.
ThebartenderwatchedwithdismayasPeteHamiltononceagainmadehiswayacrossthedimroom,totakeastoolattheOfftheRecordbar.
“IthoughtItoldyounottoreturn,”hesaidasPetesatdown.
Buttherewassomethingdifferentabouttheyoungman.Helookedlessdissipated.Hiseyesbrighter.Hisclothescleaner.Hishairunmatted.
“Whathappenedtoyou?”thebartenderasked.
“Whatd’youmean?”
ThebartendercockedhisheadatPeteandrealized,tohissurprise,thathecaredaboutthisyoungman.Fouryearsofwatchingtheslow,achingdeclinedidthat.Hefeltbadforthekid.
Politicsatanylevelcouldbebrutal.Here,inDC?Itwasmerciless.Andthiskidhadbeenpilloried.Runthroughandplacedonaspittoburn.
Butnow,unexpectedlyandsuddenly,PeteHamiltonseemedwholeagain.Healthyagain.Afteronlyaday.Amazingwhatashowerandcleanclothescoulddo.
Thebartenderhadbeenathisjobforfartoolongtobefooled.Thiswasaveneer,nothingmore.
“I’llhaveascotch,”saidPete.
“You’llhavesparklingwater,”saidthebartender.HeploppedawedgeoflimeinandplacedthetallglassonacoasterwithSecretaryAdams’scaricature.
Petesmiledandlookedaround.
Noonepaidanyattentiontohim.Heknewitmightbeamistaketobethere;he’dbeentoldtogostraighthome,andhehadmoreworktodotrackingdownevidenceagainstWhiteheadandanyofhisaccomplicesintheWhiteHouse.
Buthewantedtohearwhatwasbeingsaid,hereinthebowelsofpower.
Notsurprisingly,themaintopic,theonlytopic,wasBertWhite-headandtherampantrumorsthattheChairoftheJointChiefshadbeenarrested.
Itwasunclearonwhatcharge.
Thelargestgroupofpatronswasclusteredaroundayoungwomanwho’djustarrived.SomeonePetehadn’tseeninthebarbeforebutnowrecognizedfromthosemomentsearlierintheday,waitingtoentertheOvalOffice.ShewastheassistanttoPresidentWilliams’sChiefofStaff.
Shecaughthiseyeandsmiledbrightly.Hesmiledback.Maybe,hethought,pickinguphisglassandwanderingover,thismightbehisluckyday.
Itneveroccurredtohimtowonderwhy,inthemidstofthegreatestcrisisfacingthenation,BarbStenhauser’sassistantwouldbeinthebar.
Itneveroccurredtohimtowonderifmaybe,maybe,she’dfollowedhimthere.
Itneveroccurredtohimthatthiscouldbeavery,veryunluckyday.
PresidentWilliamshadlefttheSituationRoom,thenreturnedhalfanhourlaterafterholdingapreschedulednewsconference.
Heknewifhecanceleditwouldlookstrange.Thenewsconferencehadonlylastedtenminutes.He’dspenttherestofthetimedoingsomethingelse.
TherehadbeenafewquestionsfromthejournalistsaboutGeneralWhitehead,buttheywerevague.Thestormcloudsweregathering,butsofarnothinghadbroken.Therewereonlydistantrumblings.
“What’veyougot?”Williamsaskedafterrejoiningthegeneralsaroundthemap
Theyhad,bythen,comeupwithtwoplans.
“Wedon’thaveconfidenceineitherofthem,sir,”saidtheheadofSpecialForces.“Butthey’rethebestwecancomeupwithonshortnotice.Ifwehadmoretime…”
“Wedon’t,”saidWilliams.“Infact,wehavelessandlesstime.”Helistenedtotheirsuggestions.“What’rethechancesofsuccess?”
“Weestimate20percentforthefirstplanand12forthesecond.IftheTalibanisaswellentrenchedasreported,it’sanearcertaintythatourteamwon’tevenmakeittotheground.”
“Wecouldbombthehelloutofthefactory,though,”saidoneofthegenerals.
“It’stempting,”admittedthePresident.“Butifthereareotherbombs,we’drisksettingthemoff.Andwe’ddestroyanyinformationtheyhaveonwhereintheUSthenukeshavebeenplaced.That’sthepriorityrightnow.”
“Istherenootherwaytogettheinformation?”
“Iftherewas,we’dbedoingit.”ThePresidentleanedoverthemap.“Maybethisisfoolish,butI’mseeinganotherpossibility.Supposeweputdownhere—”Hepointedtoaplacethegeneralshadn’tconsidered.
“Thearea’stoorugged,”saidoneofthegenerals.
“Butthereisaplateau.Justbigenoughtolandacouplehelicopters.”
“Howdoyouknowthere’saplateau?”oneasked,leaningcloser.
“Icanseeit.”PresidentWilliamsmanipulatedthe3-Dimagetozoomin.Sureenough,therewasaflatarea.Notlarge,butthere.
“I’msorry,Mr.President,butwhatgoodwouldthatdo?It’stenkilometersfromthefactory.They’dnevermakeitthere.”
“They’renotsupposedto.They’readiversion.Wecansupportthemwithairstrikes,sotheykeeptheTalibanfightersbusy,whiletherealforcedropsontothefactory.”
Theystaredathimasthoughhe’dlosthismind.
“Butthat’sinsane,”saidtheViceChairoftheJointChiefs.“They’dbecutdownimmediately.”
“Notifwecreateadiversion.IftheTalibanisoccupiedsomewhereelse.That’spossible,isn’tit?”Hiseyessearchingtheirs.“Inthehoursbeforetheraid,wespreadrumorsthroughournetworkofinformantsthatwe’veheardoftheTalibanpresenceinthearea,andwemightbeplanninganassault.Thatwillgettheirattention.Theraidwouldbefarenoughawaythattheywon’tsuspectthefactoryistherealtarget,butstillintheheartofTaliban-controlledterritory,soit’sbelievable.Infact,I’llspeakwithPrimeMinisterBellingtonintheUK.Makeitsoundlikeit’sanSASassaultinretaliationforthebombings.It’sbelievableandgetsthefocusawayfromus.”
Helookedatthemastheylookedateachother.
“Isitpossible?”heasked.
Therewassilence.
“Isitpossible!”heshouted.
“Giveushalfanhour,Mr.President,”saidtheactingChair.
“Youhavetwentyminutes.”Williamsmadeforthedoor.“AndthenIwanttheSpecialForcesintheair.Whilethey’reontheirway,youcanworkoutthedetails.”
Onceoutthedoor,heleanedagainstit,closedhiseyes,andbroughthishandstohisfacemuttering,“WhathaveIdone?”
“Kingsanddesperatemen,”whisperedBetsyastheywalkedthroughthevastentrancehall,gawkingatwhatwouldhavebeensplendidhaditbeenanactualpalaceandnotamonumenttoovercompensation.
“ThePresidentiswaitingforyouontheterrace,”saidhispersonalassistant
Therewasactuallyaseriesofterraces,Italianateindesign,leadingdowntoanOlympic-sizepool,withafountaininthemiddle.Makingitbothimpressiveanduselessforactualswimming.
Allthiswassurroundedbymanicuredlawnsandgardens.And,attheveryendoftheproperty,theocean.And,beyondthat,nothing…
TheworldendedforEricDunn,Ellensuspected,wherehisownpropertyended.Nothingmatteredbeyondhissphereofinfluence.
Whichremained,sheneededtoadmit,surprisinglylarge.
Shehadtogetthismeetingoverwithquickly,butknewifshegavehimthatimpression,hewouldprolongit.
“Mrs.Adams,”hesaid,gettingupandcomingtowardher,hishandout.
Hewaslarge.Immenseinfact.Ellenhadmethimmanytimes,thoughonlyinpassingatsocialevents.She’dfoundhimamusing,charmingeven.Thoughuninterestedinothersandeasilyboredwhenthespotlightshiftedtoanyoneelse.
She’dhadhermediaoutletsdoprofilesonEricDunnashisempirehadgrown,thencrumbled,thenroseagain.Eachtimemoreaudacious.Morebloated.Morefragile.
Likeabubbleinthebath,itwasreadytoburstatanymomentandreleaseastink.
Andthen,unexpectedly,he’dturnedtopoliticsandwonthehighestofficeintheland.Butnot,sheknew,withouthelpfrompeopleandforeigngovernmentswhoplannedtoprofitfromit.Andhad.
Itwasthestrongshadowthataccompaniedthebrightlightofdemocracy.Peoplewerefreetoabusetheirfreedoms.
“Andwho’sthislittlelady?”Dunnasked,turningtoBetsy.“Yoursecretary?Yourpartner?I’mopen-minded,aslongasyoudon’tdoitinpublicandscarethehorses.”
Whilehelaughed,Ellenmadeagutturalsound,warningBetsynottoreact.Itjustfedthishollowman.
EllenintroducedBetsyJameson,herlifelongfriendandcounselor.
“AndwhatdoyoucounselMrs.Adamstodo?”heasked,wavingthemtochairsalreadysetout.
“SecretaryAdamsmakesupherownmind,”saidBetsy,hervoicesosweetitterrifiedEllen.“I’mjustthereforthesex.”
Ellenblinkedandthought,God,ifyou’relistening,takemenow.TherewasapausebeforeEricDunnstartedlaughing.
“OK,Ellen,whatcanIdoforyou?”hesaid,revertingtohishail-fellow-well-metpersona.“Nothingtodowiththeexplosions,Ihope.That’sEurope’sproblem,notours.”
“Someintelligencehascomeourwaythatis…disturbing.”
“Moreshitonme?”heasked.“Don’tbelieveit.Fakenews.”
Ellenwassorelytemptedtomentionthecraphe’djustsmearedalloverherson,butknewthatwasexactlywhathewanted.Insteadshepretended,toherselfandhim,thatshehadn’tseenit.
“Notdirectly,no.ButwhatcanyoutellusaboutGeneralWhite-head?”
“Bert?”Dunnshrugged.“Ineverhadmuchuseforhim,buthedidashewastold.Allmygeneralsdid.”
Didhesaythattoprovokeherintopointingouttheywerenotactuallyhisgenerals?Ordidhebelieveit?
“Isitpossiblehewasdoingmorethanhewastold?”
Dunnshookhishead.“Noway.Nothinghappenedinmyadministrationwithoutmyknowing,withoutmyapproval.”
Well,thatstatement’sgoingtocomebacktobitehimintheass,thoughtBetsy.
“WhydidyouagreetothereleaseofDr.Shahfromhousearrest?”Ellenasked.
Heleanedbackandhischaircreaked.“Ahhh,sothat’sit.Hetoldmeyou’dbeasking.”
“He?”saidEllen.“GeneralWhitehead?”
“No,Bashir.”
WhileEllencouldcontrolhertongue,shecouldnotcontrolherbloodflow.Nowitracedfromherfacetohercore.Regroupingthere,amassingthere,andleavingherfacedeathlypale.
“Shah?”sheasked.
“Bashir,yes.Hetoldmeyou’dbeannoyed.”
Ellenheldhertongueuntilshecouldtalkcivilly.“Youspoketohim?”
“Sure.Whynot.Hewantedtoshowhisgratitudeformyhelp.He’sageniusandanentrepreneur.Wehavealotincommon.Look,haven’tyoudoneenoughdamagetohim?He’saPakistanibusinessmanwronglyaccusedby,amongotherplaces,yourmediaorganizationofbeinganarmsdealer.Heexplaineditalltome.ThePakistanisexplainedit.Yourproblemisthatyouconfusenuclearenergywithnuclearweapons.”
Betsymumbledsomethingbarelyaudible.
Dunnturnedtoher,hisfacesuddenlysuffusedwithblood.Thebubbleabouttosurfaceandburst.
“Whatdidyoujustsay?”
“Icalledyou…astute.”
Dunncontinuedtoglareather,thenturnedbacktoEllen.
Shealmostleanedaway.Therewasnodenyingtheforceofthisman.Ellenhadneverexperiencedanyone,anything,likeit.
Mostsuccessfulpoliticianshadcharisma.Butthiswentwaybeyondthat.Tobeinhisorbitwastoexperiencesomethingextraordinary.Therewasapull,apromiseofexcitement.Ofdanger.Likejugglinggrenades.
Itwasexhilarating.Andterrifying.Evenshecouldfeelit.
EllenAdamswasinnowayattractedtothis;infact,shewasrepulsed.ButshehadtoadmitthatEricDunnpossessedapowerfulmagnetismandanimalinstinct.Hehadageniusforfindingpeople’sweaknesses.Forbendingthemtohiswill.Andiftheydidn’tbend,hewouldbreakthem.
Hewasdreadfulanddangerous.
Butshewouldnotbackaway.Shewouldnotrunforcover.
Shewouldnotbend.Andshesureashellwouldnotbreak.
“WhoinyouradministrationsuggestedgettingDr.Shahreleasedfromhousearrest?”
“Noone.Itwasmyidea.I’dmetwiththePakistanisprivatelyatasummit,tododamagecontrol.Itcameupthen.Theywerecomplainingabouttheinterferenceofthepreviousadministrationandsayinghowrelievedtheyweretohavesomeoneinpowerwhoknewhowtolead.They’dhadaterribletimewiththelastpresident.Weakandstupid.TheymentionedDr.Shah.He’saheroinPakistan,butthethenPresidentlistenedtobadadviceandforcedthePakistanistoarresthim.It’scausedhugedamagetorelations.SoIfixedit.”
“ByagreeingtothereleaseofDr.Shah.”
“Haveyoumethim?He’ssophisticated,intelligent.He’snotwhatyouthink.”
Astemptingasitwastoargue,shedidnot.NordidsheaskhowShahshowedhisgratitude.Shedidn’thaveto.
“WhereisDr.Shahnow?”sheaskedinstead.
“Well,Iwassupposedtohavelunchwithhimyesterday,buthecanceled.”
“I’msorry?”
“Iknow,canyoubelieveit?Canceled.Onme.”
“Hewashere?IntheUS?”
“Yes.HasbeensinceJanuary.Iarrangedforhimtostayatthehomeofafriend,notfarfromhere.”
“HehadavisatoentertheUS?”
“Iguess.Iflewhimoverjustbeforemovingheremyself.”
“Canyougivemetheaddress?”
“He’snotthereanymore,ifyouthoughtyou’ddropin.Leftyesterday.”
“Forwhere?”
“Notaclue.”
EllenshotaglanceatBetsy,warninghernottorisetothatlobbedball.ButBetsywasstaring,appalled,andinnomoodorconditiontoindulgeherpersonalfeelings.Insteadsheglanceddownatherphone,whereaflaggedmessagehadcomeinfromPeteHamilton.
HLI
Itwasclearlyatypo,soBetsyrepliedwithaquestionmark,thenreturnedtotheconversation.
“Mr.President,”Ellenwassaying,“ifyouknow,orknowofanyonewhodoesknow,whereDr.Shahis,tellme.Now.”
HertoneactuallystoppedEricDunn.Hisfacebecamesuddenlyserious.Hisbrowsdrawntogetherashestudiedher.
“Whatisit?”
“WethinkDr.Shah’sinvolvedinaplottogiveAl-Qaedanuclearweapons.”Itwasasfarasshewouldgo.
Dunnstaredather,andforamomentshethoughtshe’dshockedhimintoactuallyhelping.Butthenhebegantolaugh.
“Perfect.Hesaidyou’dsaythat.You’reparanoid.Hetoldmeifyoudidsaythattoaskhowyoulikedtheflowers.Ihavenoideawhatthatmeans.Hesentyouflowers?Mustbelove.”
InthesilenceallEllencouldhearwasherownbreathing.Thenshegotup.
“Thankyouforyourtime.”Sheheldoutherhand,andwhenhetookit,sheyankedandpulledtheimmensemanrightuptoher,sothattheirnosesweretouchingandshesmelledhisbreath.Itsmelledofmeat.
Shewhispered,“Ithinkunderallthatgreedandstupidityyouactuallyloveyourcountry.IfAl-Qaedadoeshaveabomb,they’lluseithere,onAmericansoil.”
Shepulledbackandstaredathisnowslackfacebeforecontinuing.
“You’vemadeitcleartimeandagainthatnothinghappenedintheWhiteHousewithoutyourapproval.Youmightwanttoeitherrethinkthatclaimorhelpusstopthis.Ifthereisadisaster,itwillbedumpedatyourbiggolddoor.I’llmakesureofthat.IfyouknowwhereShahis,youneedtotellus.”
Shesawfearinhiseyes.Fearoftheimpendingdisaster,orbeingblamedforit?Ellendidn’tknowanddidn’tcare.
“Tellus.Now,”shedemanded.
“Icantellyouwherehestayed.I’llhavemyassistantgiveyoutheaddress.Butthat’sall.”
Butsheknewthatwasalmostcertainlynotall.
“ForIhavemore…”
“GeneralWhitehead.WhatroledidheplayinthereleaseofShah?”
“Ishetryingtotakecredit?Itwasmyidea.”
Ellenstaredathim.Hecouldn’thelptakingcredit,evenforacatastrophe.
SecretaryAdamsandBetsyJamesonwaitedintheentrancehallforDunn’sassistanttogivethemtheaddressofShah’svillainPalmBeach.Whenshearrived,shehandedEllentheslipofpapersaying,“IhopeyouknowthatPresidentDunnisagreatman.”
Ellenalmostaskedifhe’dtoldhertosaythat,butinsteadshesaid,“Perhaps.It’sashamehe’snotagoodone.”
Interestingly,theyoungwomandidnotarguewithher.
WhentheywerebackintheSUV,BetsynoddedtowardthepaperinEllen’shand.
“Arewegoingthere?”
“No,we’regoingtoPakistan.”SheaskedforherphoneandsenttheaddressDunn’sassistanthadgiventhemtoPresidentWilliams,whowould,sheknew,orderimmediateaction.
“Mr.President.”ThecrispbusinesslikevoiceoftheUKPrimeMinistercamedownthesecureline.“WhatcanIdoforyou?”
“Jack,I’mgladyouasked.IneedtospreadtherumorthatyourSASisplanninganassaultonAl-Qaeda–controlledPakistan,inretaliationforthebombings.”
Therewasapause.
Tohiscredit,theUKPMdidnotimmediatelyhangup.
Williamsclutchedthephone,handtightening.Knucklesbloodless.
“Whatareyouupto,Doug?”
“Bestnottoknow.Butweneedyourhelp.”
“Youknowthiscouldputmycountryinthecrosshairsofeveryterrorist.”
“I’mnotaskingyoutodoit,justnottodenytherumor.Onlyforthenextfewhours.”
“Perceptionisreality.Itdoesn’tmatteriftheUKisresponsible,theterroristswillbelieveit.Theywanttobelieveit.”
“Therealityis,you’realreadyinthecrosshairs.Twenty-sixdead,Jack.”
“Twenty-seven.Alittlegirldiedanhourago.”Therewasalongsigh.“Allright.Doit.Ifasked,Iwon’tdeny.”
“Noonemustknowthetruth.Evenyourownpeople,”saidWilliams.“Iknowthere’sanurgentmeetingofinternationalintelligenceleadersinLondon.”
HeheardalongexhaleasBellingtonconsidered.“You’reaskingmetolietomyownpeople?”
“Iam.I’llbedoingthesamething.Ifyouagree,I’mgoingtostartwithmyownDirectorofNationalIntelligence.TimBeecham’satthatmeetinginLondon.I’mgoingtolethimknowtherumorofanSASattack.He’llaskyourpeople.They’llaskyou.”
“AndIneedtolie.”
“Youneedtonottellthetruth.Becagey.Bevague.It’syourstrongsuit,isn’tit?”
Bellingtonlaughed.“You’vebeentalkingtomyex-wife.”
“Sowhat’sitgoingtobe,Jack?”
WilliamssawthatanurgentmessagehadcomeinfromSecretaryAdams.Hewaited,waited,forBellington’sanswer.
“Thegirlwassevenyearsold.Mygranddaughter’sage.Yes,Mr.President,Icankeepthewolvesatbayforseveralhours.”
“Thankyou,Mr.PrimeMinister.Ioweyouadrink.”
“Great.Nexttimeyou’rehere,Doug,we’llgotoapubandhavepieandapint.Maybewatchafootballmatch.”
Bothmenpaused,imaginingit.Wishingitwerepossible.Butthosedaysweregoneforboth,forever.
Whenhehungup,WilliamsreadthemessagefromEllen,thenorderedtheFBIandHomelandSecuritytothevillainPalmBeach.
HealsotoldthemtofindoutwhatprivatejetshadleftPalmBeachthedaybefore,whothepassengerswere,andwheretheywereheaded.ThenheputinmotiontheSASrumors.
Thebuzzeronhisdesksounded.
“Mr.President,”saidtheViceChairoftheJointChiefs,“they’reintheair.”
PresidentWilliamslookedatthetime.Inamatterofhours,SpecialOpswouldbeflyingintoTaliban-controlledPakistan,arrivinginthedark.
Theraidwasunderway.Theoffensivehadbegun.
CHAPTER35
EllensleptfitfullyontheflighttoIslamabad,wakingoftenandcheckingformessages.
Alltheaircraft—theChinookhelicoptersandrefuelingplanes—hadtakenofffromasecretbaseintheMiddleEast,andthecommandersweregoingoverfinalplansfortheassaults.
BythetimeAirForceThreearrivedinPakistaninearlyevening,theRangershadbeensplitintotwounits.
Shelookedatthetime.Threehoursandtwenty-threeminutestofirstbootsontheground.Thediversionunitfirst.Then,twentyminutesafterthat,thefactoryraid.
AnothermessageconfirmedthatBashirShahhadleftFloridaforpartsunknown.Thevillawasempty.Nopeople.Nodocuments.Andtherewasnologofanyflightwithhisname.
Disappointing,butnosurprise.
Theyweretracingeveryprivateflightandhadnowexpandedthesearchtocommercialaircraftoutofthearea.
BashirShah,likesomewraith,hadvanished.
Shelookedatherdesk,wherethebouquetofsweetpeastillrested.Shesaw,withsatisfaction,thattheywerewilting.Drooping.Dying.
Thestewardhadtriedtotakeitaway,butEllenwanteditleftthere.Itgaveheranoddsatisfactiontowatchhisofferingdie.
ApoorsubstituteforShahhimself,butbetterthannothing.
“Beforeweleavetheplane,Iwanttoshowyousomething,”saidBetsy.
Shehadn’theardbackfromPeteHamiltonandhaddecidedtoshowEllenhismessageanyway.
“HLI?”saidEllen.“Whatdoesitmean?”
“Ithinkit’satypo.”
Ellen’sbrowfurrowed.“Butit’sflagged.Youdon’tflagatypo.Ifit’sthatimportant,you’dmakesureitwasaccurate,wouldn’tyou?”
“Iwould,buthemust’vebeeninahurry.”
“HasHamiltonexplained?”
“Iaskedbutnoreply.”
Theybothstaredattheletters.DidhemeantowriteHIL?Butifso,whatwouldthatevenmean?Thehill?CapitolHill?Wasthatwhereoneofthebombswas?Butagain,itmadenosense.WhyleaveoffthesecondL?AndyetHamiltonhadmarkediturgent.
“Letmeknowwhenhereplies.”
Ellenlookedatherselfinthemirror.Noburqathistime.Justconservative,modestdress.Longsleeves,apantsuit.AbeautifulsilkscarfherPakistanicounterparthadsentwhenherappointmentasSecretaryofStatehadbeenannounced.Itwasinthedesignofapeacockfeatherandwasexquisite.
Shealmostfeltbadforwhatshewasabouttodo.Buttherewasnochoice.Ifthosebraveoperatorscoulddowhattheywereabouttodo,socouldshe.
“Youupforthis?Wouldyouratherstayhere?Getsomesleep?”sheaskedBetsy,wholookedtiredandstressedbutwastryingtohideitforhersake.
“Areyoukidding?ComparedtoteachingTheTempesttoninthgraders,this’snothing.Jesus,I’dratherparachuteintoAl-Qaeda–occupiedterritoryanydaythanfacethirtyfourteen-year-olds.”
“Obravenewworld,”Betsythought,lookingatherfriend,“thathassuchpeopleinit.”
“We’vegotthis,”saidEllen.
“Hellisempty,”shethought,“andallthedevilsarehere.”
Oratleastnotfarfromhere.ShehopedShahwasatthefactory,unawareofwhatwasapproaching.Shelookedatthetimeagain.
Threehoursandtwentyminutes…
TheChinookhelicoptersflewinstaggeredfashion.
Thesunwasjustsettingastheyroseand,tippingtheirnosesdown,theysurgedforward,carryingtheRangerswhowoulddropontothatplateau.Andholdit.
Thecaptainlookedattheirdeterminedfaces.Mostintheirtwenties.Alreadyhardenedveterans.Butthismissionwouldbeharderthananythingthey’dfaced.Andsome,ifnotmany,wouldnotreturn.
Herowncommanderknewit,evenashe’dgivenhertheassignment.Andsheknewitasshe’dlookedattheplan.Butsuchwastheimportanceofthismissionthatshehadn’targued.Orhesitated.
“StrangetothinkthatKatherineandGilareinPakistantoo,”saidBetsyastheypreparedtoleaveAirForceThree.“Thoughquitefaraway.Iwishtheycouldjoinus.”Shepaused,toletEllensaytheycould.Andwould.Buttherewassilence.“Still,”Betsywenton,“I’dratherhavethemherethaninDC.”
“SowouldI.”Itwas,Ellenknew,thefirstinstinctofanyonewhoknewaboutthenuclearbombs.GetthefamilyoutofDC.Outofanymajorcitylikelytobeatarget.
Outsidetheplaneamilitarybandhadstruckupandwasgoingthroughitsceremonialdrillwhileplayingmartialmusic.
“Didyouseethis?”BetsyheldoutheriPad.
EllenbentdownandsawaclipfromPresidentWilliams’snewsconference.
AreporterhadaskedhimaboutformerPresidentDunn’sstatementsonGilBaharandhisroleinthebusbombings.
“Iwillanswerthatonce,andonlyonce,”saidPresidentWilliams,lookingstraightatthecamera.“GilBaharriskedhislife,andalmostlosthislife,tryingtosavethemen,women,andchildrenonthatbus.Heisanextraordinaryyoungman.Hemakeshisfamilyproud,hemakeshiscountryproud.Anyattempttosullyhisname,hisreputation,orthatofhismothercomesfrompeoplewhoarebothill-intentionedandill-informed.”
Ellenraisedherbrowsandwonderedhowshe’dnevernoticedthatDougWilliamshadanicevoice.
“StillnothingfromPeteHamilton?”shesaid.
Betsydouble-checkedandshookherhead.
“MadameSecretary,”saidherassistant.“It’stime.”
Ellenlookedatherselfinthemirroronelasttime.Shetookadeepbreath.Stooduptall.Shoulderssquared.Chinup.Headhigh.
We’vegotthis,Ellenrepeatedtoherselfasshesteppedoutintothewarmevening,tocheeringandwavingAmericanflags.TotheNationalAnthem,whichneverfailedtostirherheart.“‘Twilight’slastgleaming,’”shesang.
DearGod,helpus.
Thesecondwavetookoff,thehelicoptersfilledwithpreciouscargo.Thesonsanddaughtersofparentswhowouldbeterrifiedtoknowwhattheircountrywasaskingoftheirchildren.TheyoungmenandwomenclutchedM-4riflesandstaredacrosstheaisleateachother.
TheyoungmenandwomenclutchedM-4riflesandstaredacrosstheaisleateachother.
Theywerethetipofthespear.TheRangers.Elitetroops.Adecadeearlier,NavySEALshadalsodroppedintoPakistan,thattimetogetOsamabinLaden.Andtheyhad.
Thesesoldiersknewtheirmissionwasatleastasimportant,ifnotmore.
Andtheyknewitwasatleastasdangerous,ifnotmore.
“Thiscan’tbeit,”saidCharlesBoyntonwhenthecarshudderedtoahaltinthetinyPakistanivillage.“It’sashack.”
“Whatdidyouexpect?”askedKatherine.“TheRitz?”
“There’salotbetweentheRitzand—”Hegesturedtowardthewoodenstructure,whichwasleaningslightly.“Isthereevenelectricity?”
“Foryourelectrictoothbrush?”askedKatherineasshegotoutofthecar.Thoughprivately,shehadtoadmit,shewasalittlesurprisedanddisappointed.
“No,”saidBoynton.“Forthis.”Hehelduphisphone.“Ineedtogetitchargedandsendamessagetoyourmother.”
WhiteHouse.WhiteHouse.
Katherinewasabouttosaysomethingsnarkybutbithertongue.Shewashungryandtiredandhadhopedtheirdestinationmightsolveboththoseissues,butclearlyitwouldnot.
WhiteHouse.WhiteHouse,thoughtBoynton.Whyhadn’thesentthatmessagealongwiththerest?Becausepeoplehadbeentryingtokillhim.Becausehe’dkilledaman.
Becausehe’dtemporarilylosthismind,andallhecouldthinkofwasgettingtheinformationabouttherealphysicistsandtheirlocationtohisbossbeforehehimselfwaskilled.
WhiteHouse.Allthewaytherehe’daskedhimselfwhatitmeant.Or,really,he’dtriednottoacceptwhatseemedobvious.
SomeoneintheWhiteHousewascollaboratingwithShah.ItcouldhavemeantGeneralWhitehead,buthewasnottheWhiteHouse.HewasthePentagon.
Still,Farhadmightnotmakethedistinction.
Butinhisheart,CharlesBoyntonknewthatwasnottrue.IfFarhadspewed“WhiteHouse”inbloodwithhisdyingbreath,hemeantit.
Katherineknockedonthedoor.Itshudderedassherapped.Andthenitunexpectedlyopened,andGilwasstandingthere.
“Oh,thankGod,”hesaid.
Katherinewenttoembraceherbrother,butnoticedGilwaslookingpasther.
ToAnahitaDahir.
ThenshefeltherselfnudgedasideasAnahitawenttoGilandhuggedhimtight.
“Well,”cameavoicebehindKatherine,“thatwasunexpected.”
SheturnedandsawAna.ThenshelookedmorecloselyandrealizeditwasBoynton,notAna,whowasclutchingGilandprettymuchsobbing.
Charlespulledawayandsaid,“Phone,doyouhaveaphone?”
“Yes—”
“Giveittome.”GildidandmomentslaterBoyntonhitsend.
There.Itwasnolongerhisresponsibility.Andyethefoundthatwhilethewordshadbeensent,themeaninglingered.Stucklikeabarbinhismind.
WhiteHouse.
“MadameSecretary,thisisanunexpectedpleasure.”
ThePrimeMinisterofPakistan,Dr.AliAwan,extendedhishand,thoughhedidnotlookaltogetherhappy.
“Iwasintheneighborhood,”saidEllenwithawarmsmile.
Dr.Awan’ssmilewasstrained.Thiswasaninconvenience,butwhentheUSSecretaryofStatesuddenlydropsinfordinner,youcannotsendasurrogate.
He’dmetherattheentrancetohisofficialresidenceinsidethegroundsoftheMinister’sEnclave.Floodlightsilluminatedthegraciouswhitebuildingsandspilledontothelushgardens.
Majesticpalmssoaredoverhead,andEllen,aloverofhistory,couldonlyimaginehowmanypeopleoverthecenturieshadstoodwhereshewasandalsomarveled.
Theeveningwaswarmandfragrant.Scentsbothsweetandspicyrosefromtheflowersintheheavyhumidair.SecretaryAdams’smotorcadehaddrivenpastthechaoticandexuberantstreetlifeofthePakistanicapital,downthelongConstitutionAvenue,andarrivedatthisvenerableenclave,ahavenofpeaceinthecenterofthevibrantcity.
Itwasstrangeintheextremetobeinsuchaserenesetting,givenwhatwasabouttohappenafewhundredkilometersaway.
ShelookedupatthestarsandthoughtoftheRangerssailingthroughthenightsky.
Thehelicopterswereapproachingthelandingzone,butinthemountainsandcanyonsitwasimpossibletoactuallyseetheplateauuntiltheywererightuponit.
Thepilotswereonnightvision,hoping,hopingtheTalibanandtheirantiaircraftgunswouldnotspotthembeforetheyreachedtheLZ.ThoughtheChinookshadbeenheavilymodified,thepilotsandoperatorsknewthatstealthtechnologywasfarfromperfectinhelicopters.
Therewasnotalking.Thepilotsstrainedtoseewhilethesoldiersinthebellyofthechopperwerestaringoutatthestars,lostintheirownthoughts.
Aftercocktails,whichEllenwasrelievedtoseeweremadeupoffreshfruitjuicesandcontainednoalcohol,theguestswereseatedatanovaltable,beautifullysetfordinner.
EllenhadgivenherphonetoSteveKowalski,herchiefofsecurity.Itwasprotocol,butshealsowanteditoutofherhands.Shewasfarfromsureshecouldresistcheckingiteverytwominutes.
Acrossfromher,BetsyhadengagedayoungArmyofficerinconversation,whileEllenturnedtothePrimeMinister,whowasseatedonherleft.
Menandwomenhadbeenhastilycalledtoattendthisdinner,including,Ellenwasrelievedtosee,Dr.Awan’sMilitarySecretary,GeneralLakhani,whosatontheothersideofthePrimeMinister.
TheForeignMinisterwasalsothere,inthehopes,Ellenassumed,thenewAmericanSecretaryofStatewouldproveasineptasthelast.
SherealizedtherecentdebacleinSouthKoreahadhadunexpectedbenefits.Ithadproven,atleasttosome,thatshewasindeedincompetent.And,therefore,easilymanipulated.
Thatwasexactlywhatshewantedthesepeopletothink.Forthenextfewcrucialhours,anyway.
“IwashopingDr.Shahwouldbehere.”
Mightaswellconfirmherabilitytobeindiscreet.
Therewasaclatterastwoorthreegovernmentofficialsdroppedtheirforks.ButnotPrimeMinisterAwan.Heremainedperfectlycomposed.
“DoyoumeanBashirShah,MadameSecretary?I’mafraidheisnotwelcomeinmyhome,orinanygovernmentbuilding.He’sviewedbysomeasahero,butweknowthetruth.”
“Thathe’sanarmsdealer?Sellingnucleartechnologyandmaterialtoanyonewillingtopay?”Hergazewasinnocent,hervoiceneutral,asthoughshewereconfirmingarumorshe’donlyjustheard.
“Yes.”Hisvoicewasclipped.Hadhenothadsuchself-control,histonewouldhavevergedonrude.Itcertainlyheldawarning.BashirShahwasnottobementionedinpolite,certainlynotinforeigncompany,inPakistan.
“Thefishisdelicious,bytheway,”Ellensaid,lettingDr.Awanoffthehook
“I’mgladyoulikeit.It’saregionalspecialty.”
Theywerebothworkinghardtoremaincordialandrelaxed.Ellensuspectedhewasasanxiousasshewastohavethischaradeover.Inherresearch,whichincludedspeakingwithPakistanischolarsandintelligenceofficialswho’dstudiedtheturbulentstate,EllenhadconcludedthatDr.Awanwasdeeplyconflicted.
He’dbeenanearlysupporterofShahbuthadpubliclyturnedonhim.APakistaninationalist,PrimeMinisterAwanbelievedthathiscountry’sonlyhopeofsurvivalwhenlivingnexttothegiantthatwasIndiawastogetstrongerandstronger.Oratleastappearto.
Likeapufferfish,itmadeitselfseemlarger,moreintimidating.Anditdidsobyfillingitselfwithfissionablematerial.
BashirShahprovidedthat.Butthenuclearphysicistalsobroughtalongallsortsofunwantedanddangerousattention.Anothermaniacjugglingweapons,onlyhisweren’tgrenades;theywerenuclearbombs.
“Idon’tsupposeyouknowwhereheis,Mr.PrimeMinister.Ithinkhishomeisn’tfarfromhere.”
Americanagentshadhishouseundersurveillance,buthemight’vesnuckinbeforeallthishappened.
“Shah?Notaclue.”Dr.Awanhadresignedhimselftogettingthisconversationoverwith,sincesheseemeddeterminedtotalkaboutthisunpleasantandevenperiloustopic.“YourpreviousPresidentaskedthathebereleasedfromhousearrest,andwecomplied.Afterthat,Dr.Shahwasfreetogowhereverhepleased.”
“Youdon’tconsiderhimathreat?”
“Tous?No.”
“Thentowho?”
“IfIwasIran,Imightbeworried.”
“I’mgladyoubroughtthatup.I’mhopingwecanworktogether,Mr.PrimeMinister,togetIranbackintothenucleartreaty,andtogiveupanynuclearweaponstheymighthave.ItworkedforLibya.”
Shegotthereactionshe’dexpectedandwanted.Hisbrowswentup,andGeneralLakhani,theMilitarySecretary,leanedacrossthePrimeMinistertostareather,asthoughshe’dsaidsomethingmonumentallystupid.
Whichshehad.
Sometimes,SecretaryAdamsthought,youwerethecat.Sometimestherat.Andsometimesthehunter.
Shecouldseewhattheywerethinking.
Herewasanopportunitythathadfallenoutofthesky,almostliterally,andintotheirlaps.Itwasnottobewasted.TheycouldtakethenewSecretaryofStateinhand.Offertobeherteachers,hermentors.To,ineffect,inculcateherwiththePakistaniviewoftheregion.Wheretheyworewhitehats,andIndia,Israel,Iran,Iraq,everyoneelseworeblackandwerenottobetrusted.
ButshealsoknewtherewereelementswithinPakistan,withinthegovernmentandeventhemilitary,probablyaroundthattable,whosawtheAmericanwithdrawalfromAfghanistanasanopportunitytoassertevenmorepowerandinfluenceintheregion.
ByessentiallymakingAfghanistananotherprovinceofPakistan.
WiththeAmericansgone,theTaliban,afterbeinggivensafehavenforyearsinPakistan,wouldagaintakepowerinAfghanistan.Andwiththemwouldcometheirallies,insomewaystheirinternationalmilitaryarm:Al-Qaeda.
ItwasanAl-QaedaintentonhurtingtheWest.SpecificallyintentonrevengeagainsttheUnitedStatesforthekillingofOsamabinLaden.They’dpledgedit,andnow,withthehelpofBashirShahandtheRussianmafia,withtheAmericanwithdrawalfromAfghanistanandthereemergenceoftheTaliban,they’dbeinapositiontocarrythethreatthrough,andinamorespectacular,moredestructivefashionthanthey’ddreamedpossible.
Aterroristorganizationcoulddowhatagovernmentcouldnot.Agovernmentwassubjecttointernationalscrutinyandsanctions.
Aterroristorganizationwasnot.
Dr.Awan,agoodman,ifnotagreatone,washardlyajihadist.Hewasfarfromaradical.Terroristattackssickenedhim.Buthewasarealist.HecouldnotcontrolthoseradicalelementswithinPakistan.OncetheAmericansleft,oncetheTalibanreturnedandShahwasfreed,therewasalmostnostoppingit.
ThePakistaniPrimeMinisterhadbeenprivatelyshockedwhentheformerAmericanPresident,atthesummitmeeting,hadaskedforShah’srelease.He’dtriedtoexplaintoPresidentDunnthepossibleconsequences,butitfellondeafears.
Despiteliberaldosesofflattery,whichusuallyworkedwiththeAmericanPresident,hewasadamantthatShahbereleased.ItwasAwan’sonlyfailure.ClearlysomeoneelsehadgottentoDunnfirst,withevenmoreflattery.Hecouldguesswho.
AndnowBashirShahwasoutintheworld,andPrimeMinisterAwanfoundhimselfbackonthetightrope,balancingbetweenkeepingtheAmericanscloseandtheradicalelementswithinhisowncountrycloser.
AsforAl-Qaeda?Awanjustwantedtokeephisheaddown.
Hislife,bothpoliticalandphysical,dependedonhisabilitytodothat.
They’dbeenworriedwhenDunnlosttheelection,butnowitseemedthisnewSecretaryofStatewasjustasignorant,justasarrogant.Andtherefore,justasmalleable.
Thefishwastastingmoreandmoredelicious.
CHAPTER36
Itwasaroughlanding.
Thewindwhippingthroughthecanyonsmadeitnearimpossibletocontrolthehelicopters.ButthepilotsofthetwoChinooksheldthemsteadylongenoughfortheRangerplatoontoleapoutandraceclear.
Justasthehelicoptersliftedoffandwereturningforcover,astronggustpushedtheleadcoptertowardtherockface.
“Shit,shit,shit,”mutteredthepilot,assheandthecopilotfoughtforcontrol.Buttherotorclippedtherocks.Therewasajolt.
Shefeltthecontrolstickshakingandshuddering.Andthecrafttilting.
Seeingwherethiswasheading,shelookedathercopilotandhernavigator.Theylookedbackather,andnodded.
Thenshesteereditawayfromthetroopsontheplateau.Awayfromtheotherhelicopter.
Therewassilenceinthecabinasthehelicopterslippedovertheedgeandoutofsight.
“OhGod,”thepilotwhispered.
Andthencamethefireball.
ItwasfollowedsecondslaterbycontrailsfromtheTalibanpositions.
“Incoming,”theRangercaptainyelled.
AstringquartetwasplayingBach’sConcertoforTwoViolinsasthesaladcoursewasserved.
ItwasoneofEllen’sfavoritepiecesofmusic.Shelistenedtoitmostmornings,toeaseherselfintoherday.Shewonderedifitwasacoincidence,butsuspecteditwasnot.Shealsowonderedwhointheroomhadarrangedforittobeplayed.
ThePrimeMinister?Heseemedoblivioustoanyhiddenmessage.TheForeignSecretary?Maybe.
TheMilitarySecretary,GeneralLakhani?Fromwhatshe’dreadintheconfidentialbriefings,hewasthemostlikely.Amanwithonefootinboththeestablishmentandtheradicalcamps.
ButsomeonewouldhavehadtohavetoldGeneralLakhani.AndEllenknewwho.
Thesamepersonwho’dsentthesweetpeas.
Who’dsentthecardsonherchildren’sbirthdays,who’dundoubtedlypoisonedherhusband.
Who’darrangedforthebombingdeathsofsomanymen,women,andchildren.
BashirShahputtheplateofgreensandfreshherbsinfrontofSecretaryAdams.
Thiswasthemoment.Hefeltanoddsensationandrealizeditwasexcitement.Ithadbeenalongtimesincethecynichadfeltanythingatall,nevermindthisfrisson.
He’dnevermetEllenAdamsinperson,buthe’dstudiedherfromadistance.Now,ashebentdown,hewassoclosehecouldsmellhereaudetoilette.Clinique,heknew.AromaticsElixir.Itmightevenbefromthebottlehe’dsentherforChristmas.Thoughhesuspectedshe’dthrownthatrightintothetrash.
Heknewthiswasaridiculousrisktotake,butwhatwaslifewithoutrisk?Andwhatwastheworstthatwouldhappen?Iffoundout,he’dclaimitwasjusthislittlejoke.Todressupasoneofthewaiters.Atworst,hewastrespassing,butnochargeswouldbelaid.OfthatShahwascertain.
Partofhim,therecklesspart,hopedhewouldbediscovered,andwouldgettoseeEllenAdams’sfacewhensherealizedwhohewas.Howclosehe’dgotten.Andthattherewasabsolutelynothingshecoulddoaboutit.Hewas,thankstotheAmericansthemselves,afreeman.
Hecouldkillhernow.Snapherneck.Orplungeoneofthesharpknivesintoher.Hecouldputpoison,orgroundglassmaybe,intoherfood.
Hehadthatpoweroflifeanddeathoverher.
Insteadhe’dslippedapieceofpaperintoherjacketpocket.Itwouldn’tkillher,butitmightcomeclose.
Yes,he’dplaywithheralittlelonger.Watchherreactionwhenthebombswentoff.Whensherealizedherfailurehadcausedthedeathsofthousands.Andaseismicshiftinhercountry.
Asheinhaledhersubtlescent,hewonderedifhehadn’tdevelopedamacabrecrushonthiswoman.AsortofreverseStockholmsyndrome.Soclosewerehatredandlovelinked,apparently.
Butno,heknewhisstrongfeelingswererank.Thiswomanhadruinedhislife.Andnowhe’dreturnthefavor.Slowly.He’dtakeallthatwaspreciousawayfromher.True,hersonhadescapedtheassassinationattempt,butthere’dbeotherdays,otherchances.
Fornow,atthismoment,hewasenjoyinghimself.Heevenallowedhimselftospeaktoher.
“Yoursalad,MadameSecretary.”
EllenAdamsturned.
“Shukria,”shesaidinUrdu.
“Apkakhairmaqdamhai,”theserversaid,andgaveherawarmsmile.
Hehadniceeyes,shethought.Deepbrownandgentle.Herfather’seyes.Thatmustbewhyheseemedslightlyfamiliar.
Healsohadapleasantscent.Jasmine.
TheservermovedontothePrimeMinister,whoalsothankedhimbutdidnotlookup.TheMilitarySecretaryseemedinagoodmood,almostjovial.Hesaidsomethingtotheserver,andthemansmiledpolitelybeforecontinuingonhisrounds.
NowwhatdidGeneralLakhanihavetobesohappyabout?Ellencouldn’tshakethefeelingthatwhateveritwas,itdidnotbodewell.
AsBachcontinuedsoftlyinthebackground,Ellenrealizedthiswasafarmorecomplexdancethanshe’danticipated.
WhereweretheRangersnow?Thediversionmusthavebegun.Hadtheyreachedthefactoryyet?
“YoutalkaboutgettingIrantogiveupitsweaponsprogram,”PrimeMinisterAwanwassaying,draggingEllen’smindbacktotheconversation.“Ibelieve,MadameSecretary,theGrandAyatollahistoocannyforthat.Hedoesn’twanttobecomeanotherMuammarGaddafi.”
Ellenalmostsaid,Remindme,butthoughtthatwouldbeasteptoofar.PrimeMinisterAwanwouldneverbelieveshewasthatignorant.Hewasexaminingherclosely,watching.Analyzing.Shecouldfeeltheintensityofhisstare.
Shedecidedtoremainquietandlethimwonderjusthowna?veshewas.Shealsofoughtthetemptationtolookatherwatch,whichwouldbeconsideredtheheightofrudeness,andperhapssignaltoanyonewatchingthatshewasexpectingsomethingtohappen.
Whichshewas.
Onceagainhermindwenttotheassaultforces.Tohowtheoperationwasgoing.AndhowmuchmerdewouldhitthefanwhenherhostsdiscoveredwhatwasreallygoingonwhiletheyenjoyedtheirfreshherbsaladsandlistenedtoBach.
“ColonelGaddafiwasconvincedtogiveuphisnuclearweapons,”theMilitarySecretaryexplained,whileDr.AwancontinuedtowatchEllen.“Andthenextthingyouknow,Libya’sinvaded,andGaddafi’soverthrownandkilled.Nooneinthisregionhasmissedthatlesson.Anycountrywithanuclearweaponissafe.Noonewoulddareattack.Anycountrywithoutnuclearcapabilityisvulnerable.Itissuicidetogiveuptheirweapons.”
“Thebalanceofterror,”saidEllen.
“Thebalanceofpower,MadameSecretary,”saidthePrimeMinisterwithabenignsmile.
AnaidehadbentdownandwaswhisperingtoGeneralLakhani,whoturnedandstaredattheaide,thensaidsomethingtohimbeforehehurriedoff.
TheMilitarySecretarythenspokequietlytoDr.Awan.
Thiswasit,Ellenrealized.Sheforcedherselftorelax.Breathe.Breathe.Acrosstheovaltable,Betsyhadalsonoticedthisexchange.
PrimeMinisterAwanlistened,thenturnedtoEllen.“We’vejustreceivedwordthattheBritishareplanninganattack,tonight,onAl-QaedapositionsinsidePakistan.Doyouknowanythingaboutthat?”
Fortunately,Ellenwasgenuinelysurprisedbythisnews,andshowedit.
“No,Idon’t.”
Awanstudiedherwithhissingularlyintensestare,thennodded.“Icanseethat’strue.”
“Butitmakessense,Isuppose,”saidEllen,slowly.“IftheybelieveAl-QaedaisbehindthebombingsinLondonandtheothercities.”
Whilehercarefullychosenwordscameslowly,hersharpmindwasmovingrapidly,examiningallthepossibilities.
WasitpossiblethatwhatthePMsaidwastrue?TheBritshaddecided,perhapsfromasuggestioncomingoutofthatintelligencemeetingTimBeechamwasattending,tolaunchtheirownattack?WeretheskiesoverPakistancrowdedthatnight?
Theotherpossibilitywasthatitwasnottrue.ThatPresidentWilliamshadputoutthisfalserumor.Ifso,itwasbrilliant.Ellenjustwishedsheknewwhichwaswhich.
“Whatdoesn’tmakesense,”snappedAwan,asallconversationintheroomstopped,“isnotinformingus.Itisanattackonoursovereignterritory.Doweknowwhere?”
“Myaideisfindingout,”saidGeneralLakhani,whowasnowlookingalotlessjovial.Justthentheaidereturnedandbentdowntowhispertohim.
“Outloud,”hesaid.“Everyoneknowsnow.Where’stheattacksupposedtohappen?”
“It’salreadyunderway,General.IntheBajaurregion.”
“Whataretheythinking?”demandedthePrimeMinister.“AnotherBattleofBajaur?Asthoughthefirstwasn’tbloodyenough.”
He’dbeenthere.Amid-levelofficerwhobarelyescapedwithhislife.Andnowhewaslisteningtomusicandeatingsaladwhilethesecondoneraged.Godhelphim,hewasrelievedtobehereandnotthere.HesparedathoughtfortheBritishcommandosengagingtheTalibanandAl-Qaedaintheirmountainfortress.
TheBattleofBajaur.OperationLionHeart.Thetraumawasneverfaraway.ThateventwasjustoneofmanyreasonsPrimeMinisterAwanhatedwarandlongedforapeacefulandsecurePakistan.
Dr.AwansawthathisMilitarySecretarylookedrelieved,whichdidn’tmakesense.HowcouldhebepleasedthattheBritishhadlaunchedacovertattackwithinPakistaniborders?TheGeneralshouldhavebeenenraged.
Whatwasheupto?thePrimeMinisterwondered.Healsowondered,ashefelthimselfwobbleonthetightrope,ifhereallywantedtoknow.
PrimeMinisterAwanharborednoillusionsaboutGeneralLakhani,andhadonlyappointedthemantoappeasethemostradicalelementsinhisparty.Itwasaproblem,havingaMilitarySecretaryhecouldnottrust.
AtthatmomentSecretaryAdams’sheadofsecuritywhisperedtoherandhandedoverherphone.
“Ifyou’llexcuseme,Mr.PrimeMinister.Anurgentmessage.”
“FromtheBritish?”hedemanded,thestingofnationalinsultstillsmarting.
“No,frommyson.”
“Almostthere,sir,”saidthepilot.“Ninetyseconds.”
TheColonelgavetheorder,andtheassaulttroopsstoodandlinedupatthedoor.
Outthewindowstheycouldseeinthedistancethenightskylitupwithartilleryfire,andthenhugeexplosionsastheirjetsdroppedbombsonTalibanpositions.
TheRangersontheplateauhadengagedtheenemy.Thediversionhadbegun.
“Forty-fiveseconds.”
Eyesswungfromthewindowstothedoorthatwasabouttoopen.Theyhadtheirownjobtodo.Torapidly,withlightningspeed,securethefactorybeforethoseinsidecouldscatter.Beforethoseinsidecoulddestroydocuments.
Beforethoseinsidecouldsetoffanucleardevice.
“Fifteenseconds.”
Thedoorwasyankedopen,andtherewasagreatwhooshofcold,freshair.
Theyhookedtheircordsontothewireoverheadandbraced.
Ellenreadtheshorttext.NotfromGilbutfromBoynton.
TheinformantFarhad,whoworkedforbothIranianIntelligenceandtheRussianmob,hadbeenkilledbytheRussians.Justbeforehediedhe’dsaidtwowords.
“WhiteHouse.”
TheincomingfirefromtheTalibanpositionswasbrutal.Worsethanexpected.TheCaptainrecognizedtheweaponsfireasRussian-made,andpassedtheinformationbacktoHQ,alongwiththereportthattheywereholdingtheirground.Returningfire.
Shewasabouttoaskwheretheairsupportwas,whentherewasamightyroaroverhead,thenearth-shatteringexplosionsasAmericanfighterjetsdroppedbombsonthemountainside.
Itgavethemtemporaryreprievefromthewitheringfire.
Andthenitbeganagain.
Hunchedbehindarock,thecommanderlookedatherwatch.Theotherplatoonmustbeatthefactory.Theyjusthadtodrawfireforanothertwentyminutes.
Justholdon.Justholdon.Whateverhappens,justholdon.
Shewastheonlyoneofherplatoonwhoknewwhytheywerereallythere.Iftheywerecaptured,noneofhersoldierscouldbetorturedintorevealingwhatthetruenatureofthemissionwas.
Butsheknewshewouldneverallowanyofthemtobecaptured.
PresidentWilliamssatinthemainSituationRoomonthebottomflooroftheWhiteHouse,surroundedbyhisintelligenceandmilitaryadvisors.They’dbeenthereforthepasthour.Itwaswindowless.Stuffy.Butnoonenoticedorcared.
Theywerecompletelyfocusedonthemonitors,watchingandlisteningtotheRangersabouttorappelontothefactory.
“Fifteenseconds,”camethevoiceofthepilot.Surprisinglyclear.
PresidentWilliamsbraced,clutchingthearmsofhisswivelchair.
TheheadofJointSpecialOperationsCommandwasbesidehim,whiletheViceChairoftheJointChiefsofStaffwasnextdoor,monitoringthetroopsontheplateau.
“Mr.President,we’velostoneofthehelicopters,”theViceChairreported.
“TheRangers?”askedWilliams,tryingtokeepthealarmoutofhisvoice.
“Areout.ButthethreeSpecialOpscrewmembersarelost.”
Williamsgaveabrusquenod.“Theothersareholding?”
“Yes,sir.Drawingfire,drawingattention.”
“Good.”
“Go,go,go!”cametheorder.
IntheSituationRoom,thousandsofmilesaway,thePresidentoftheUnitedStatesleanedforward.
HecouldseeexactlywhatwashappeningthroughthenightvisioncamerasonthehelmetstheRangerswore.Itwaslikebeingthere,onlynot.
DougWilliamsgaveasmallthrustasherappelledfromthechopperwiththecommanderinchargeoftheraid.Itwaseerilyquiet,almostpeaceful,asthePresidentwatchedtheothersdescend.
Therewasathumpandgruntashisbootshittheground.
Notawordwasspoken.TheRangersknewexactlywhattodo.
TheagentknockedonPeteHamilton’sdoorandlookedaroundatthegrimyhall.
Theplacestank.Helookedathispartner,whowasgrimacing.
“Hamilton?”heshouted,poundingonthedoorwithhisfist.
They’dtracedhimbackherefromtheOfftheRecordbar.He’darrivedmorethananhouragobuthadnotansweredanymessagessincethen.
Theleadagent,aveteranoftheSecretService,lookedaround.Thiswasn’tright.IfsomeonewasworkingwiththeWhiteHouse,they’dmakesuretoanswertheirtexts,emails,calls.Ifitwasthreeinthemorning,thenmaybe…butitwasonlymidafternoon.
Hefeltthehairsonthebackofhisneckgoup.
Bendingoverthelock,heneededjustafewsecondswithhistoolsbeforetherewasasoftclick.Bringingouthishandgun,henoddedtohispartner.
Ready?
Ready.
Withhisfoot,henudgedthedooropen.
Andstopped.
ThedessertwasplacedinfrontofEllen,thistimebyadifferentwaiter.
ThedinnerinIslamabadhadneverbeenexactlyjocularbuthadnowturneddownrightsullenwithnewsoftheapparentBritishraidinBajaur.
GeneralLakhanihadexcusedhimself,thoughthePrimeMinisterhadstayedbehind.PerhapsindicatinghowimportantDr.AwanconsideredhisAmericanguest.Ormorelikely,thoughtEllen,indicatingwhowasreallyincharge.Andwhoshouldjustenjoyhissweetgulabjamun.
SecretaryAdamsrealizedtherumorabouttheSASwasindeedaruse.ItwasAmericanSpecialForceswho’dlandedinBajaurandengagedAl-Qaeda.Itwasjustamatteroftime,minutesnow,beforethePakistanisrealizedwhatwasreallyhappening.Andwho’dreallyorchestratedtheraid.Raids.
Shemovedtheballsofcakearoundintheirsyrup.Aslightscentofroseandcardamomwaftedupfromthefinebonechinabowl.
She’dheardnothingfromPresidentWilliamssinceforwardingthewarningfromBoynton.
WhiteHouse.
Actually,itwassimplyconfirmationofwhattheyalreadyknew.TherewasatraitorintheWhiteHouse.ClosetothePresident.
JustthenEllen’sphonebuzzedwithared-flaggedmessage.
TheagentswhohadbeensenttocheckonPeteHamiltonhadfoundhiminhisapartment.Shotdead.
They’dtracedhismovementstoOfftheRecord,wherehe’dbeenchattingupayoungwoman,wholeftshortlyafterhedid.Theywerefindingoutwhoshewas.
“Areyouallright?”Dr.Awanasked,seeingherpale.
“Ithinkthefishmightnothaveagreedwithme.Wouldyouexcuseme,Mr.PrimeMinister?”
“Ofcourse.”HeroseasshegotupandnoddedtoBetsytojoinher.Everyoneelsearoundthetablealsogottotheirfeetandwatchedasthetwowomenhurriedout,ledtotherestroombyafemaleaide.
Itseemedthisawkward,interminableeveningwasdrawingtoaclose.Whentheguestofhonorthrewup,thatwasgenerallyasignalthatitwasover.
Buttheywerewrong.
TheRangersliterallyhitthegroundrunning,racingforthefactory.Now,asthePresidentandotherswatched,theybreachedthegatesandpouredinside.
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
Sevensecondssincegettingin.Andsofar,noresistance.Notashotfired.
“Isthisnormal?”WilliamsaskedtheheadofSpecialOperations.
“Thereisno‘normal,’Mr.President,butwehadexpectedthatthefacilitywouldbedefended.”
“Andthefactitisn’t?”
“Couldmeanwehavetakenthemcompletelybysurprise.”Andyetheseemeddisconcerted.
PresidentWilliamsalmostaskedwhatelseitcouldmean,butdecidedtojustwatch.They’dfindoutsoonenough.
Themomentstickedby,elongatingalmosttobreaking.Williamshadneverrealizedasecondcouldbesoelastic,andsolong.
Heavybootspoundedupconcretestepstwoatatime,M16gunsattheready.Onegroupheadedup,anotherdown,anotherracedintothehugeopenareafilledwithindustrialequipment.
Twenty-threeseconds.
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
“Clear!”
“What’sthat?”Williamspointedtooneofthescreens.
Thecommanderwasgivenanordertogetcloser,andashedid,thatbecameobvious.
“Oh,fuck,”saidthePresident.
“Oh,fuck,”saidtheheadofJointSpecialOps.
“Oh,fuck,”saidthecommanderontheground.
Thatwasalineofbodies.Allinwhitelabcoats.Thephysicistswereslumpedtothefloor.Thewallbehindthempockmarkedwithbulletholesandstreakedwithblood.
“GettheirIDs,”theleadersaid.“Searchthemforpapers.”Glovedhandsreachedoutandsearchedthebodies.
“Whendidthishappen?”theheadofSpecialOpsdemandedofthecommanderoftheeliteforce.
“Lookslikethey’vebeendeadaday,maybelonger.”
Shahhadkilledhisownpeople.Theirusefulnesswasatanend.Hehadwhatheneeded,Williamsknew.ThebombshadbeenassembledandsoldtoAl-Qaeda,whowerenowundertheprotectionoftheTaliban.
Shahwasjusttidyingup.
“Findthedocuments,”thePresidentcommanded.“Weneedthatinformation.”
“Yes,sir!”
PleaseGod,pleaseGod.
“Morebodiesuphere,”cameanothervoice.“Onthesecondfloor.”
“Andinthebasement.Jesus,itwasamassacre.”
“WatchforIEDs,”thecommanderorderedasheandtheothersransackedthefacility,lookingfordocuments.Forcomputers.Forphones.Foranything.
PresidentWilliamsbroughthishandsupandheldhisfaceashestaredatthescreens.Hiseyeswide.Hisbreathingrapid.
“Weneedtoknowwherethebombsweresent,”herepeated.
Ninetysecondsin,andnothing.
Twominutesandtenseconds.Nothing.
“Nothingsofar,”thecommanderreported.“Willkeeplooking.Nosignofanyboobytraps.”
TheheadofJointSpecialOperationsCommandturnedtothePresident.“That’sstrange.”
“Butgood,right?”
“Iguess.”Butthemanseemeduneasy.
“Tellme.”
“I’mworriedthatwhoeverdidthiswantsourpeopletomovedeeperintotheplacebeforetheytripthem.”
“Whatcanwedo?”
“Nothing.”
“Shouldn’twewarnthem?”PresidentWilliamsnoddedtowardthescreen.
“Theyknow.”
ThoseintheSituationRoomturnedgrimfacestothescreensandwatchedastheRangersmoveddeeperintothefactoryinsearchofvitalinformation.Knowingfullwellwhatwasprobablyawaitingthem.
“Mr.President.”
Williamsstartled,hisfocusinterrupted,andlookedovertothedoorwheretheViceChairoftheJointChiefswasstanding.Hewasgraspingthedoorframeandlookedill.Behindhimwerethemenandwomenwho’dbeenmonitoringtheeventsontheplateau.
Williamsstoodup.Hecouldseebytheirfacesthatthenewswasn’tgood.“Yes,General?”
“They’regone.”
“I’msorry?”saidWilliams.
“They’realldead.Thewholeplatoon.”
Therewasadeathlysilence.“All?”
“Yes,sir.Theytriedtoholdbacktheinsurgents,butthereweretoomany.Itlooksliketheymight’vebeenwarned.”
WilliamslookedattheheadofSpecialOps,whowasstunned.Thenbacktothemanatthedoor.
“Goon,General,”saidthePresident,standingtallerandbracing.
ForIhavemore…
“WhenitbecameclearthatthePathansandAl-Qaedaforceswouldoverwhelmthemandtherewasnoescape,theCaptaininchargeoftheoperationorderedthattheygrabwhateverterroriststheycouldreachasshieldsandfighttotheend.”
“OhGod.”Williamsclosedhiseyesandbowedhisheadandtriedtoimagine..
Butcouldnot.
Thenhestraightenedup,tookadeepbreath,andnodded.“Thankyou,General.Thebodies?”
“I’vesentinhelicoptergunshipstotrytorecoverthem,but…”TheGenerallookedphysicallysick.
“Yes.Thankyou.Iwanttheirnames.”
“Yes,sir.”
Timeenoughtogrievelater.PresidentWilliamsreturnedtothefactory,wheretheotherRangersweremovingdeeperanddeeperintowhatwasalmostcertainlyatrap.
Buttheyneededthatinformation.
WhichAmericancitiesweresittingonnucleardevicesthatwereabouttogooff?
Betsysearchedthewomen’srestroom,thenlockedthedoor.
Theywerealone,thoughthatdidn’tmeantheyweren’tbeingoverheard.
“Whatisit?”shewhispered.“What’shappened?”
Ellensatonthesilksetteeandstaredatherfriend,whosatdownbesideher.
“PeteHamilton’sbeenmurdered,”Ellenwhispered.“Hislaptopandphoneandpapersaremissing.”
“Ohhhhh.”Betsyslumped.Everyboneinherbodyhaddissolvedastheeagerfaceoftheyoungmancametoher.She’drecruitedhim.Convincedhimtohelp.
Ifshehadn’t—
“Thatlastmessagefromhim,whendiditcomein?”askedEllen.
Betsygatheredherselfandchecked,thentoldher.
“Andnothingsince?Noexplanation?”
Betsyshookherhead.SuddenlyHLIwaslessamystifyingtypoandmorealast,urgentmessagefromayoungmanwhomighthavebeenafraidforhislife.
“Butthere’smore,”saidEllen.Shelookedghastly.“Thediversionforce…theRangers…”
“Yes?”
Ellentookadeepbreath.“They’vebeenkilled.”
BetsystaredatEllen.Shewantedtolookaway.Toclosehereyes.Toretreat,justforafewseconds,intodarkness.Butshecouldn’tabandonherfriend,evenforonepreciousmoment.InsteadshereachedoutandgraspedEllen’shand.
“All?”
Ellennodded.“ThirtyRangersandsixSpecialOpsaircrew.Gone.”
“OhGod,”sighedBetsy,thenaskedthequestionshedreaded.“Andtheothers?Atthefactory?”
“Noword.”
Therewasaknockonthedoorandthehandlejiggled.
“MadameSecretary,”awoman’svoicecalled.“Areyouallright?”
“Justamoment,”Betsyreplied.“We’llbeoutsoon.”
“Doyouneedhelp?”
“No,”Betsysnapped,thenpulledherselfin.“Thankyou.Wejustneedabitoftime.Upsetstomach.”
Whichwasnowtrue.
TheybothstareddownatthephoneclutchedinEllen’shand.Waiting,waitingforanothermessagefromtheWhiteHouse.
WhiteHouse,thoughtEllen.ThatwasthemessagefromBoynton.ItwaswhattheIraniandoubleagenthadsaidwithhisdyingbreath.
“LetmeseePeteHamilton’smessageagain.”
Anothermessagefromamanabouttodie.Andknowingit.NotWhiteHouse,butmightaswellhavebeen.
HLI
Justthenamessage,flaggedurgent,appearedonEllen’sphone.FromtheWhiteHouse.
PresidentWilliamsstaredatthescreensastheRangersinthefactoryfinishedtheirsecondsweepoftheplace.ThenheturnedtotheheadofJointSpecialOperationsCommand.
“Bringthemhome.”
“Yes,sir.”
EllenAdamswentintothecubicleand,sinkingtoherknees,shethrewupwhileBetsystaredatthefewlinesonthephone,sentbyPresidentWilliams.
Factoryempty.Physicistsandtechniciansdead.Nopapers.Nocomputers.Noideawherebombsweresent.Evidencetherehadbeenfissilematerialthere.Analyzingsignature.Noinfoondestinations.
Nothing.
BetsyknewsheshouldgoovertoEllen.Tohelpher.Shouldgetcoldclothsforherface.
Butshecouldn’tmove,excepttofinallyclosehereyes.Coveringthemwithtremblinghands,shefelthercheekswetbeneathherpalms.
PeteHamiltonwasdead.TheRangerplatoonsentinasadiversionwasdead.
Thephysicistsweredead,andthefactorywasempty.
Itwasallfornothing.
Theystillhadnoidea,absolutelynoidea,wherethenuclearbombshadbeenplanted.Orwhentheywouldgooff.Exceptitwasalmostcertainlysoon.
CHAPTER37
“MadameSecretary?”
ThistimethevoiceatthedoorbelongedtoAgentKowalski,theheadofEllen’sDiplomaticSecurityteam.
“Doyouneedhelp?”
“No,no.Thankyou.Justanotherminute.Justsplashingwateronourfaces.”
Whichtheyhadbeendoing,butEllenhadkeptthetapsrunningtohelpcoverwhatshewasabouttosaytoBetsy.
“IthinkIknowwhatPeteHamiltonmeant,”shewhispered.
“Pardon?”
“Themessage.HLI.”
“Thenitwasn’tatypo,sentinapanic?”
“Idon’tthinkso.Yearsago,justafterDunntookoffice,AlexHuangcametome.”
“YourseniorWhiteHousecorrespondent,”saidBetsy.
“Right.He’dpickedupchatterfromsomeofthemoremarginalconspiracytheoristsontheWeb.VaguereferencestoaWebroom,asitecalledHLI.HelookedintoitandconcludedthisHLIwaseitherajokeorwishfulthinkingcirculatedbyfar-rightextremists.Fantasists.Eitherway,itdidn’texist.”
“AreyousureitwasHLI?Howcanyourememberthatdetailfromyearsago?”
“Becauseofwhat‘HLI’stoodfor.Becauseofwhatthestorycouldbe,iftrue.”
“Whatdiditmean?”
“‘High-levelinformant.’IntheWhiteHouse.”
“Butimaginary,right?Somefictitiousseniorofficialwhowas,what?Passingsecretinformationtotheultra-right?”askedBetsy.“Area51?Aliensamongus.Vaccineshaveatrackingdevice.Finlanddoesn’texist.Thatsortofthing?TheymadeupstuffandattributedittothisHLI?”
“That’swhatHuangthoughtatfirst.Weirdbutprobablyharmless.HeevenaskedPeteHamiltonaboutitataWhiteHousebriefing.Petedeniedknowinganything,andHuangdecideditwasjustanotherconspiracytheoryrabbithole.ButIaskedhimtokeepatitalittlelonger.”
“Why?”
“Becausemostrabbitholesendatthefringe,butthisonewentbeyondthat.”
“Intothedarkweb.”
“Idon’tactuallyknow.”
“ButAlexHuangfinallystopped?”
Ithadalwaysamusedherthatjournalistscoveringthegovernmentwerecalled“correspondents,”asthoughitweresomeforeignland.Butnowshesawwhy.Itwasacountrywithinacountry,withitsownrulesofbehavior.Itsowngravityandstiflingatmosphere.Itsownshiftingbordersandboundaries.
Thenationalanimalofthatcountrywasarumor.TheWhiteHousewasinfestedwiththem.Veteranswho’dsurvivedmanychangesofadministrationhaddonesobyknowingwhichrumorsweretrue.Andwhichwerenot.And,perhapsevenmoreimportantly,they’dlearnedwhichfalserumorscouldstillbeuseful.
“Yes.Hecouldn’tgetfar.Andthat’swhathefoundstrangestofall.Mostofthepeoplewhopeddleconspiracytheorieswantasmuchpublicityaspossible.Theywanttheir‘secret’spreadfarandwide.ButthosewhoknewaboutHLIdidnot.Infact,theyseemeddesperatetokeepitquiet.”
“Agreatsilence,”saidBetsy.
Ellennodded.“Hefinallystoppedlookingandquitnotlongafter.”
“Where’dhego?Anotherpaper?”
“No,IthinkhemovedtoVermont.Maybetoapaperthere.Quieterlife.BeingaWhiteHousecorrespondentisaburnoutjob.”
“OK,I’lltrytofindhim.”
“Why?”
“BecauseIwanttofollowup.IfthisHLIreallydoesexist,andisinvolved,weneedtofindout.ForPete’ssake.”
Itwasnotanexpression.Itwasthereality.Betsyfeltadutytothatyoungman.
“Fine,butnotyou,”saidEllen.“I’llgetsomeoneelsetodoit.”
“Whynotme?”
“BecausePeteHamiltongothimselfkilledaskingquestions.”
“Andyouthink,dearone,ifthosebombsgooff,we’renotallgoingtobeputagainstawall?”saidBetsy.“I’lllookintoit.Nowwhatwerethoseinitialsagain?”
Ellensmiledslightly.“You’reasilly,sillywoman.”Sheturnedoffthetaps.“Ready?”
“Oncemoreuntothebreach,dearfriend,”saidBetsy,checkingherlipstickinthemirror.
TheywalkedoutoftherestroomstraightintothefuriousfaceofthePakistaniPrimeMinister.
AliAwanwasstandinginthesplendidhallway,hishandsbehindhisback.Everymanandwomanfromthedinnerwasrangedbehindhim,includingthestringquartet.
AllglaringatEllenAdams.
“MadameSecretary,whenwereyouplanningontellingme?”Hehelduphisphone,whereamessageaboutthetruenatureofthatnight’sSpecialOpsraidshadjustcomethrough.
Ellenhadhadenough.
“Whenwereyouplanningontellingme,Mr.PrimeMinister?”Ifhewasangry,shewasincandescent.“Yes,ourSpecialForcesengagedtheTalibanandAl-QaedaatBajaurtonight,atterriblecost,whileanotherforceattackedtheabandonedcementfactory.Itwasn’ttheBritish,itwasus.Andyes,itwasdeepintoPakistaniterritory.Anddoyouknowwhy?”
Shetooktwostepstowardhimandonlyjuststoppedherselffromgrabbinghislongembroideredkurta.
“Becausethat’swheretheterroristsare.Andwhyaretheythere?Becauseyougavethemasafehaven.YouallowedenemiesoftheWest,oftheUnitedStates,tooperateinsideyourcountry.Whydidn’twetellyouabouttonight’sraids?Becausewecouldn’ttrustyou.You’venotonlyallowedAl-QaedatooperatebasesinsidePakistan,you’veallowedBashirShahtouseanabandonedfactoryforhisweapons.You.”Shetookanothersteptowardhimashebackedaway.“Are.”Anotherstep.“Responsible.”
Shewasrightupagainsthimnow,lookingupintohisglisteningface.
“Andhowarewesupposedtotrustyounow?”hesaid,rallying.“Youlied,MadameSecretary.Youcameherewiththesolepurposeofdistractingus.”
“OfcourseIdid.AndI’ddoitagain.”
“Youhaveviolatedournationalhonor.”
Sheleanedcloseandwhispered,“Fuckyourhonor.Thirty-fourmembersofourSpecialForceslosttheirlivestonight,tryingtopreventacatastropheyouallowed.”
“I—”ThePrimeMinisterwasonthebackfoot,figurativelyandliterally.
“Youwhat?Youdidn’tknow?Oryoudidn’twanttoknow?WhenyoureleasedShah,whatdidyouthinkwouldhappen?”
“Wehad—”
“Nochoice?Areyoukiddingme?ThegreatnationofPakistancapitulatedtoanAmericanmadman?”
“AnAmericanPresident.”
“AndhowareyougoingtoexplainthistothecurrentAmericanPresident?”Sheglaredathim.
PrimeMinisterAwanlookedshell-shocked.He’dfallenoffthehighwirebutwasstillclingingtoitwithonehand.Holdingonfordearlife.Hangingoveranabyss.
“Comewithme.”Ellentookhisarmandpracticallyshovedhimintothewomen’srestroom.Betsyfollowedandlockedthedoorbeforeanyoneelsecouldfollow.
“Mr.PrimeMinister,”hisheadofsecurityshouted.“Standback.”
“No,”Awancalled.“Wait.I’mnotindanger.”HelookedatEllen.“AmI?”
“IfIhadmyway—”Ellenbegan,thenheavedadeepbreath.“Look,Ineedinformation.ShahhirednuclearphysiciststobuildbombsandusedthatfactoryinBajaurtodoit.”
“Bombs?”
Shestudiedhim.WasitpossibleDr.Awandidn’tknow?Shethought,bytheappalledlookonhisface,thatheprobablydidn’t.Maybethey’dfound,finally,amorallinehewouldnotcross.
“There’sevidenceoffissilematerialinthefactory.”
“Nuclear?”Tryingtograspthesituation.Hisexpressionhadgonefromappalledtohorrified.
“Yes.Whatdoyouknow?”
“Nothing.OhmyGod.”Heturnedawayfromherandbeganpacingtheluxuriousspace,weavingaroundlargesilk-coveredpoufs.Hishandonhisforehead.
“Comeon,youmustknowsomething,”Ellensaid,followinghim.“OurintelligencetellsusthebombsweresoldtoAl-Qaedaandhavealreadybeendeliveredtotheirtargets.”
“Where?”
“That’stheproblem.”Ellenreachedoutandstoppedhim,turninghimaroundtofaceher.“Wedon’tknow.Allweknowisthatthey’reinthreeAmericancities.Weneedtoknowtheirexactlocationandwhenthey’resettogooff.Youneedtohelpus,Mr.PrimeMinister,orsohelpmeGod…”
PrimeMinisterAwan’sbreathinghadbecomerapidandshallow,andBetsywasworriedhewasabouttopassout.
Itwasclearthatwhilehemighthavesuspectedsomeofthis,thespecificswereashock.
Hesatdownheavilyononeoftheottomans.“Iwarnedhim.Itriedtowarnhim.”
“Who?”Ellentooktheonenexttohimandleanedforward.
“Dunn.Buthisadvisorswereadamant.Dr.Shahneededtobereleased.”
“Whichadvisors?”
“Idon’tknow.AllIknowisthathelistenedtothemandwouldn’tbepersuaded.”
“GeneralWhitehead?”
“OftheJointChiefs?No,hewasagainsttheidea.”
Butthen,thoughtBetsy,hewouldbe.Publicly.ShethoughtofPete.Ofhisexcitement,mixedwithhorror,whenhe’dfoundthosedocumentsburiedintheprivatearchivespointingtotheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaff.
WasWhiteheadtheHLI?Hemustbe.Buttherewasachancehewasn’tactingalone.HewasthePentagon.Supposetherewassomeoneelse,intheactualWhiteHouse?
“Where’sShahnow?”EllendemandedofAwan.
“Idon’tknow.”
“Whodoes?”
Pause.
“Whodoes?”Ellendemanded.“YourMilitarySecretary?”
Dr.Awandroppedhiseyes.“Possibly.”
“Gethiminhere.”
“Here?”Helookedaroundthewomen’srestroom.
“Youroffice,then.Anywhere.Butfast.”
Awanbroughtouthisphoneandcalled.Itrang.Rang.Rang.
ThePrimeMinister’sbrowfurrowed.Hesentatext,thencalledanothernumber.
“FindGeneralLakhani.Now.”
Whilehedidthat,EllensentamessagetoPresidentWilliamssuggestingTimBeechamberecalledfromLondon.
Shereceivedanimmediatereply.BeechamwouldbeflowntoDConamilitaryjet.
AndIwantyoubackheretoo,wrotethePresident.
Ellenpausedbeforecomposinghertext.Givemeanotherfewhours,please.Imighthaveanswershere.
Shehitsend,andhisreplycamewithinmoments.
Youhaveonehour,thenIwantyouonAirForceThree.
Ellenwenttoputawayherphone,thenreconsidered.Shehadonemorequestion.
Ordnancesusedtokillphysicists?
Russian.
ShelookedatPrimeMinisterAwanandasked,“HowdeeplyaretheRussiansinvolvedinPakistan?”
“Notatall.”
Sheconsideredhim.Andheconsideredher.SomehowSecretaryAdams’scalmwasmoreunnervingthanwhenshewasshoutingathim.
AndwherethehellwasGeneralLakhani?He’dgottenthemintothis;heshouldbetheonefacingthiswrath.
“IknowyouthoughtthatIwasanincompetentidiot,”shesurprisedhimbysaying,“whoyoucouldmanipulate.”
“Youdidgivethatimpression,MadameSecretary.Onpurpose,Inowsee.”
“DoyouknowwhatIthoughtofyou?”
“ThatIwasanincompetentidiotthatyoucouldmanipulate?”
Listeningtothis,Betsythoughtthatitwashardnottolikethisman.Itwas,however,hardertotrusthim.
“Well,maybealittle,”admittedEllen.“ButmostlyIthoughtyouwereagoodmaninanimpossibleposition.AndIstilldo.Butthereckoninghascome.Youneedtomakeachoice.Now.Usorthejihadists?Doyousidewithterroristsorwithyourallies?”
“IfIchooseyou,Ellen,ifIhelpyou—”
“Youmightbetheirnexttarget.Iknow.”Shelookedathimwithsomesympathy.“Butifyouchoosetheterrorists,they’llkillyoueventuallyanyway,whenyourusefulnesshaspassed.AndI’lltellyou,Ali,you’reatthatline.Aftertonight,youmighthavecrossedit.ItlookslikeShahiscleaningup,andyou’renowpartofthewaste.Youronlyhopeistohelpusfindhim.”Shewatchedhimstruggle.“DoyoureallywantPakistantofallintothehandsofterroristsandmadmen?OftheRussians?”
Kingsanddesperatemen,thoughtBetsy.Onlynowtheywerethedesperateones.
“Idon’tknowwhereShahis,Ireallydon’t,”saidAwan.“GeneralLakhanimightbeabletotellyou,butIdoubthewill.YouaskedabouttheRussians.They’renotourallies,butelementswithinPakistanareassociatedwiththeRussianmafia.”
“IncludingGeneralLakhani?”
ThePrimeMinisterlookeddeeplyunhappyandnodded.“Ithinkso.”
“HetrafficsweaponsfromtheRussianmafiatoShah?”
Nod.
“Includingfissilematerial?”
Nod.
“AndfromShahtoAl-Qaeda?”
Nod.
“Andguaranteestheterroristssafehaven.”
Nod.
EllenalmostdemandedtoknowwhyAwanhadn’tstoppedit,butitwasn’tthetime.Iftheysurvivedthis,shewould.ButshealsoknewthattheAmericangovernmenthadcrawledintobedwithitsshareofdevilsoveritshistory.Itwassometimesanecessaryevil.Itwasrarelyanevenbargain.
AsSecretaryAdamswatched,PrimeMinisterAliAwanmadehischoice.Lettinggoofthehighwire,hewentintofreefall.
“IfBashirShahhasfissilematerial,”hesaid,“hemustbeintouchwiththehighestleveloftheRussianmafia.”
“Andwho’sthat?”
WhenAwanhesitated,Ellenwhispered,“You’vecomethisfar,Ali.Onemorestep.”
“MaximIvanov.It’sneveradmitted,butnothinghappenswithouttheRussianPresidenthavingahandinit.Noonecouldgetthoseweapons,thatfissilematerial,withouthisapproval.He’smadebillions.”
Ellenhadhadsuspicions,hadevenassignedtheinvestigativeunitatoneofhermajorpaperstolookintoIvanov’sconnectiontotheRussianmafia,butaftereighteenmonthsoftrying,they’dgottennowhere.Noonewouldtalk.Andthosewhomightdisappeared.
TheRussianPresidentmadetheoligarchs.Hegavethemwealthandpower.Hecontrolledthem.Andtheycontrolledthemob.
TheRussianmafiawasthethreadconnectingalltheelements.Iran.Shah.Al-Qaeda.Pakistan.
Therewasapingasanotherred-flaggedmessagearrived.FromPresidentWilliams
Thefissilematerialdetectedatthefactoryhadbeenidentifiedasuranium-235.MinedintheSouthUralsandreportedmissingbytheUNnuclearwatchdogcommitteetwoyearsearlier.
Ellenabsorbedthat;then,gatheringhercourage,shesentareply.
ButshehadonelastquestionforPrimeMinisterAwan.
“Does‘HLI’meananythingtoyou?”
“‘HLI’?I’msorry.No.”
SecretaryAdamswasonherfeet.Thankinghim,sheleft,butbeforeshedid,sheaskedhimtonotmentionanythingthey’dtalkedabouttoanyone.
“Oh,don’tworry.Iwon’t.”
Thatshebelieved.
IntheOvalOffice,PresidentWilliamslookedathisphoneandmuttered,“Oh,shit.”
Thenighthadjustgonefromhorrifictoevenworse.
AccordingtothemessagefromhisSecretaryofState,theRussianmafiawasprobablyinvolved.WhichmeanttheRussianPresidentwasprobablyinvolved.
DougWilliamshadabsolutelynodoubtthathewassittingontopofanuclearbomb.Andhewasterrified.Hedidn’twanttodieanymorethananyonedid.
Butmorethanthat,hedidnotwanttofail.
He’dorderedtheWhiteHousebeallbutevacuated,keepingonlythemostessentialstaff.
Specialistswerenowsweepingtheplacefortracesofradiationfromtheuranium-235,butPresidentWilliamsknewtherewerewaystomaskit.AndheknewtheWhiteHousehadmany,manyplacestohide.
Adirtybomb,ifthat’swhatitwas,couldfitintoabriefcase.Andtherewereplentyofthoseintheramblingoldbuilding.
WilliamslookedagainatEllenAdams’smessage.
ShewouldnotbereturningtoWashington.Notjustyet.InsteadshewastakingAirForceThreetoMoscow.AndcouldhearrangeameetingwiththeRussianPresident?
Forabriefmoment,PresidentWilliamsentertainedtheideathatthetraitorintheirmidstwashisSecretaryofState.Thatthatwaswhyshewasgettingasfarfromthenuclearbombsaspossible.
Buthedismissedthatthought.Thatwasoneofthegreatdangers,heknew.Thatintheirpanic,theyturnedoneachother.Suspectedeachother.
Iftheyweretosucceed,theyneededtostaytogether.
Whilehemightbesittingonanuclearbomb,EllenAdamswashardlybetteroff.HisSecretaryofStatewasheadingforashowdownwiththeRussianBear.
Whichwasthebetterwaytogo?Incineratedortornapart?
HefoldedhisarmsontheResolutedeskandlaidhisheaddown.Closinghiseyesjustforamoment,heimaginedawildflowermeadowandabrooksparklinginthesunlight.Hisgoldenretriever,Bishop,wasleapingafterbutterflieshecouldnothopetocatch.
ThenBishopstoppedandlookedintothesky.Whereamushroomcloudhadappeared
PresidentWilliamsraisedhishead,wipedhisfacewithhishands,andplacedacalltoMoscow.
God,hethought,don’tletmemakeamistakenow.
Onherwaytotheairport,Ellenputherhandintoherjacketpockettotakeoutherphone.Itwasinstinct.Shekeptforgettingthataftereachuse,shegaveittoherheadofDiplomaticSecurity.
But…
“What’sthis?”
“What?”askedBetsy.Shewasbothwoundupandexhausted.Fried.Shewonderedhowmuchlongertheycouldgoonlikethis.
ThenshethoughtofPeteHamilton.AndtheRangersontheplateau.
Longer,aslongasittook,wastheanswer.
Ellenheldaslipofpaperbetweenherthumbandforefinger.“Steve?”
Heturnedinthefrontseat.“Yes,MadameSecretary?”
“Doyouhaveanevidencebag?”
Thetoneofhervoicemadehimlookatherclosely,thenatwhatshewasholding.Hereachedintoacompartmentbetweentheseatsandtookoutabaggie.
Shedroppedthepaperin,butnotbeforeBetsyhadtakenaphotoofwhatwaswrittenonit,incareful,evenelegantscript:
3101600
“Whatdoesitmean?”Betsyasked.
“Idon’tknow.”
“Wherediditcomefrom?”
“Itwasinmypocket.”
“Yes,butwhoputitthere?”
Ellenhadbeengoingbackovertheevening.Ithadn’tbeentherewhenshe’dputthejacketon,inAirForceThree,aneternityago.Anynumberofpeoplecouldhaveslippeditintoherpocketlater.Thoughmostofthedinnerguestshadkeptarespectfuldistance.Shedidn’tthinkPrimeMinisterAwanortheForeignSecretaryhadcomecloseenough.
AndneitherhadGeneralLakhani.
Thenwho?
Asetofeyescametomind.Deepbrowneyes.Andasoftlyaccentedvoiceashebentclose.Closeenoughforhertosmellhiscologne.
Jasmine.
“Yoursalad,MadameSecretary.”
Andthenhe’ddisappeared.Hadnotbeentherefortherestoftheservice.
Buthehadbeentherelongenoughtoslipthispaperintoherpocket.Shewassureofit.
Andshewassureofsomethingelse.
“ItwasShah.”Hervoicewasbarelyaudible.
“Shah?”Betsywasfullyawakenow.“Hehadsomeonegiveittoyou?Liketheflowers?”
“No,ImeanitwasShahhimself.Thewaiterwhogavemethesalad.ItwasShah.”
“Hewastheretonight?OhGod,Ellen.”
“Quick,Steve,Ineedmyphone.”Assoonashegaveittoher,sheplacedthecall.“This’sSecretaryAdams.Putmethroughtowhoever’sontheIntelligencedesk.”
AfteranexcruciatingminuteoftryingtoconvincetheovernightswitchboardoperatorattheAmericanembassyinIslamabadthatshereallywastheSecretaryofState,EllenfinallyhungupandjustcalledtheAmbassador.
“IneedtheaddressforBashirShah,”shesaid.“AndIneedsecurityandintelligencepersonneltomeetmeathishomeimmediately.Fullyarmed.”
“Yes,”hemumbled,strugglingupfromadeepsleep.“Justamoment,MadameSecretary.I’llgetyoutheaddress.”
Hedid,andwithinminutestheywereinaleafysuburbofIslamabad.Whiletheywaitedfortheembassypersonnel,BetsybegantryingtotrackdownAlexHuang,theformerWhiteHousecorrespondentwho’dunearthedHLI.
Ellenmadeanothercall.ThisonetoPrimeMinisterAwan,bringinghimuptospeed.
“Dr.Shahwastheretonight?”saidthedumbfoundedPrimeMinister.“GeneralLakhanimusthavearrangedforit.Isawhimjokingwiththewaiterandwondered…”
“SodidI.AnywordontheGeneral?”
“No.We’relooking.HemightbewithShah.”
“DoIhaveyourpermissiontoenterShah’sresidence?”
“You’lldoitanyway,won’tyou?”hesaid.
“Absolutely.ButI’mgivingyouachancetodothedecentthing.”
“Allright.Youhavemypermission,thoughI’mnotsureourcourtswouldagreethatIhavetheauthority.”Hepaused.“Butthankyoufortrustingme.”
Shehadn’ttrustedhimcompletely.Notyet.Butnowshetookthatleap.
“Dothenumbers‘3101600’meananythingtoyou?”
Herepeatedthem,thenpaused,thinking.“Isn’t1600theaddressoftheWhiteHouse?”
Ellenpaled.Howhadshenotseenthat?1600PennsylvaniaAvenue.“Yes.”
Butwhatcouldtheothernumbersmean?310.Wasitatime?WasthebombsettodetonateattheWhiteHouseat3:10inthemorning?
“Ineedtogo.”
“Goodlucktoyou,MadameSecretary.”
“Andtoyou,Mr.PrimeMinister.”
Whenshe’dhungup,shetoldBetsywhatAwanhadsaidaboutthenumbers.
“Yes,thatcouldbeit,”Betsyagreed.“OneofthebombsisintheWhiteHouse.Wesuspectedasmuch.Butiftherearethreebombs,whywouldShahjustwarnyouaboutone?Ithinkit’ssimplerthanthat.Ithinkthey’rethesameastheotherones.”
“Whatotherones?”
“Thebuses.ThenumbersyourFSOgotandfiguredout.”
Ellenlookedmorecloselyatthefigures.“Buses?Al-Qaeda’sputthebombsonnumber310busessomewhereintheStatesandthey’resettogooffat1600hours?”
“Fourp.m.Ithinkso.SupposethoseexplosionsinLondon,Paris,andFrankfurtwerenotonlymeanttokillthedecoyphysicistsbutwereakindofdryrun.”
“Butthere’snowaywecanfigureoutwhichcities,”saidEllen.“Andfourp.m.?Butinwhichtimezone?”
Betsystaredattheslipofpaper.Thenshenoticedsomething.“Ellen,it’snot310.It’s3,space,10.Therearethreenumber10busesthataregoingtoexplodeatfourintheafternoon,inwhichevertimezonetheyhappentobein.”
“Butthatdoesn’tmakesenseeither,”saidSteve,turningaroundinthefrontseat.“I’msorry,butIcan’thelplistening.”Helookedpale,clearlyshockedbywhathewashearing.“Ifweknowtherearedirtybombsonthreenumber10busessomewhereintheStates,allwehavetodoissendoutanalerttoeverytransportationdepartmenttostopthemandsearch.Itwouldn’tbeeasy,butitcouldbedone.Andwehavetime.”
Ellenheavedasigh.“You’reright.Thatcan’tbeit.”
Theystaredatthenumbers.Ellen’sblurry,sleep-deprivedeyeshadn’tnoticedthesmallspacebetweenthem,butitwasthere.Unmistakableonceseen.
3101600
Buttheystillhadnoideawhatitmeant.WhichmadefindingShahallthemorevital.
Asshelookedtowardthedarkhouse,Ellenfeltdread,likeicewater,movingupherbody.Creepingtowardhermouth,hernose.Shewas,shefeared,inoverherhead.
Shedidn’tknow.Shedidn’tknow.Shedidn’tknowwhatthismessagemeant.
Itcouldbebuses.OritcouldbeabouttheWhiteHouse.
Oritcouldberandomnumbers.BashirShahmessingwithher.Havingherwasteprecioustime.
WhatEllendidknowwasthatshewasfartooexhaustedtoworkitoutherself,evenifshecould.She’dmissedthespacebetweenthenumbers—whatelsewasshemissing?
“Sendmethephotoyoutook.”WhenBetsydid,Ellenforwardedit.
“TothePresident?”Betsyasked.
“No.Hecan’tfigureitoutanymorethanwecan,andiftherereallyisanHLI,wecan’triskanyoneelseintheWhiteHouseseeingit.Isentittothepersonwhosolvedthefirstcode.”
ThenshedidsendamessagetoDougWilliams,warninghimthatiftherewasanuclearbombintheWhiteHouse,itmightbesettoexplodeattenminutespastthreethatmorning.
Williamslookedattheclock.
Itwasjustaftereightp.m.Thatgavethemsevenhours.
CHAPTER38
GilandAnahitahadventuredoutintothesmalltownandfoundfoodandbottledwatertotakebacktotheothers.
They’dtalkedthewholewaythereandthewholewayback,carryingthefragrantfoodinstringbags.
Theystartedtentatively,bytellingeachotherwhathadhappenedtotheminthepasttwenty-fourhours.
AnahitalistenedcloselyasGildescribedthemeetingwithHamzaandAkbar’sattack.Sheaskedquestions,sympathized,herattentioncomplete.Thenheaskedaboutwhatshe’dbeenthrough.
Anahitaknewhimwellenoughtoknowitwasapoliteinquiry.Aquidproquo.Nothingmore.Hermotherhadoftensaidthatanyonecanaskthefirstquestion.Itwasthesecond,thethirdthatcounted.
Intheirtimetogether,asthey’dlaininbedaftermakinglove,Gilhadoftenaskedhowherdaywas.Butherarelyaskedthesecond,andneverthethirdquestion.Andwhilesomewhatinterestedinherday,herarely,ifever,askedhowsheherselfwas.
Anahadlearnedthelimitofhisinterestinher.She’dalsolearnednottovolunteerpersonalinformation.Nottosomeonewhodidn’treallycare.Andyetshecouldn’thelpcaringabouthim.LikeOthello,shelovednotwiselybuttoowell.
ButOthelloactuallyhadbeenlovedinreturn.Histragedywasnotknowingit.
Asthey’dwalkedthroughthedarkalleywaysofthesmallPakistanitown,envelopedinthewarmscentofthespicyfood,she’dgivenGilthemostsuperficialofanswers.Theheadlines.Whatshe’dtellanyone.Nomore.Notenoughtolethiminsideheractualthoughtsandfeelings.
Thoughthedoorwasn’tlocked.Shewasjustontheotherside,longingtoadmithim.Thekeywasaskingthatsecondquestion.Thethirdwouldgethimacrossthethreshold,towhereshekeptherheart.
“Thatmust’vebeenawful,”hesaidwhenshe’dfinished;thenhelapsedintosilence.
Despiteherself,Anahitawaited.Onestep.Two.Threestepsdownthealley,insilence.
ShefeltGiltakeherhand.Sheknewwhatthatwas.Apreludetoanintimacyhehadn’tearnedandnolongerdeserved.Shepausedforamoment,feelingthewarmfamiliarfleshagainsthers.Feelingit,forjustamomentonthathotandstickynight,insideher.
Thenshelethimgo.
Heopenedhismouthtospeak,butjustthenamessagecameinonhisphone.
“It’sfrommymother.BashirShahgaveherapieceofpaperwithnumbersonit.Shewantsyoutoseewhatyoucanmakeofit.”
“Me?”
“Itseemstobeacode.Yousolvedthelastone,shethinksyoucansolvethisone.”
“Letmesee.”
Asheturnedthephonearoundforhertoreadthemessage,hesaid,“Ana—”
“Justletmereadit,”shesaid,hervoicebusinesslike.Curt.
3101600
Heryoungeyeshadimmediatelyseenthespacebetweenthenumbers.TheFSOwasnowcompletelyengagedinthiswork.
Shewouldnotbesoslowontheuptakethistime.IthadtakenherfartoolongtoseethesignificanceofthemessagefromhercousinZahara,andthenevenlongertoworkoutwhatitmeant.
Thedelayhadcostmorethanahundredpeopletheirlives.Thatwouldnothappenagain.Shewouldnotbedistracted.Allthewaybacktothesafehouse,shewentoverthenumbersinherhead.
3101600
Oncethere,shewrotethemoutonslipsofpaperandgaveonetoeachofthem.
“BashirShahsentthese,”shesaid.“Weneedtofigureoutwhattheymean.”
“This’saboutthedirtybombs?”Katherineasked.
“Yourmotherthinksso.”
Astheysharedthefood,theirheadsbentoverthetablelitbyoillamps,theytossedoutideas,thoughts.Speculation.
1600.TheWhiteHouse?
Threenumber10buses?
Itdidn’ttakethemlongtoarriveatthesametheoriesasSecretaryAdams.Includingthepossibilitythatthenumberswerearuse,amadman’sjoke.Buttheyhadtoassumetheyweremeaningful.
GilglancedacrossthetableatAna.Herfacewasilluminatedbythesoftflame.Hereyesbright,intelligent.Herfocuscomplete.
Ontheirwalkhe’dwantedtoaskher,longedtoaskher,aboutwatchingherparentsbeinginterrogated.
Aboutwhenshe’dfoundherselfinTehran.Whenshe’dbeenarrested.Whathadhappened,howshe’dfelt.
Whenshe’ddescribed,inafewbriefsentences,theattackinthecaves,he’dfelthimselfgolight-headedatthethoughtoflosingher.
He’dwantedtoaskwhathadhappenednext.Andnext.Andnext.He’dwantedtositonadoorstepandlistentoher.Forever.Losehimselfinherworld.Findhimselfinherworld.
Insteadhe’dbeensilent.
Hisfatherhadingrainedinhimthatitwasrudetoaskpersonalquestionsunlesshewasonastory.Asajournalist.Butheshouldwaitforfriends,especiallywomenfriends,toopenup.Askingquestionscouldbeconsidered,hisfathersaid,aviolation.Couldbeinterpretedasinappropriatecuriosity.
Buttherewasareasonhismotherhaddivorcedhisfather.Andtherewasareasonhisfatherhadgoneontoanynumberoffailedrelationships.
AndtherewasareasonhismotherhadmarriedQuinnAdams.Whodidaskhowshefelt.Andwholistenedtotheanswer.Andaskedmorequestions.Notbecausehewascurious,whichheprobablywas,butbecausehecared.
Insteadofspeaking,Gilhadcommunicatedhiscaringintheonlywayheknewhow.Hereachedforherhand.Butshe’dpulledaway.Intosilence.
TwoblackSUVsglidedtoastopbehindSecretaryAdams’svehicle,andagentscladinassaultgearjumpedout.
AfterDiplomaticSecurity,theirhandsontheirweapons,checkedIDs,theyopenedthedoorsandEllenandBetsygotout.
“Youknowwhosehousethisis?”Ellenasked.
“Yes,MadameSecretary.Dr.BashirShah,”saidthesenioragent.“We’vehaditundersurveillance.Nosignofhim.”
“Yes,well,wehavereasontobelievehe’sinIslamabad.Weneedtofindhimandpickhimup,alive.”Sheheldtheagent’seyes.“Alive.”
“Iunderstand.”
“Areyoufamiliarwiththelayoutoftheplace?”
“Iam.I’vestudiedit,ontheassumptionwemighthavetogoinoneday.”
Ellengaveanappreciativenod.“Good.”Shelookedatthedarkhome.“Theremightbeimportantpaperstoo.Onesdetailinghisnexttarget.”
“Next?”
“He’sresponsibleforthebusbombsinLondon,Paris,andFrankfurt.Andwethinkhe’splantedmore.Weneedtoknowwhere.”
Thesenioragenttookadeepbreath.Thishadjustgonefromraidingthehomeofaprominentphysicistandarrestinghimtosomethingfar,farmoreserious.
“Wecan’tannounceourselvesandasktobeadmitted,”saidSecretaryAdams.“Wecan’triskthemburningthedocuments.Weneedcompletesurprise.”
“That’sourspecialty,ma’am.”Helookedatthetallwalls.“Iimagineit’sguarded.”
“Iexpectso.Willthatbeaproblem?”
“No,ma’am.Wealwaysexpecttrouble.”
“TroublewithacapitalT.I’mcomingwithyou,”shesaid.
“Idon’tthinkso,”hesaidjustasSteveKowalskisaid,“No.”
“Iwon’tinterfere,butIneedtolookforthosepapers.”
“No,Ican’tallowit.Notjustforyoursafety,MadameSecretary,butyou’lljustgetintheway.Endangerthewholeoperation.”
“I’mnotsuggestingIleadtheassault.”Sheturnedtoherownheadofsecurity.“Look,Steve,you’vebeenlisteningtoourconversations.Youknowwhat’satstake.Youknowhowmanyliveshavebeenlosttryingtogetthisinformation.”Whenhewenttoobjectagain,Ellensaid,“YouknowaswellasIdothatthereisnolongeranysafeplace.NotuntilwegetShahandthatinformation.Ifhe’ssuccessful,thiswon’tstopwiththesebombs.It’llgoonandon.So,Isuggestwedivideduties.YoufindShahandsecuretheplacewhileIgothroughhispapers.”ShelookedfromStevetotheheadoftheassaultteam.“Iwon’tgoinuntilyoutellmeto.Allright?”
Veryreluctantly,theyagreed.
EllenturnedtoBetsy.“Stayhere.”
“OK.”
Astheymadetheirwaytothetallgatessecuringthehome,Betsyfollowed.
“Trouble,trouble…”
AtasignalfromSteve,thetwowomensprintedacrossthecourtyard.Witheverystepcloser,closertothedarkhouse,Ellenfeltthehairsonherforearmgoup
“TroublewithacapitalT.”
Therewasnoresistance.Noguards.SecretaryAdamshadasinkingfeelingsheknewwhatthatmeant.
“Waitaminute,waitaminute,waitaminute.”ZaharaAhmadiputupherhandsforsilence.
They’dbeengoingaroundandarounddifferenttheoriesaboutthenumbers,eachmorefar-fetchedthanthelast.
“ThisBashirShahleakedtheinformationaboutthenuclearphysiciststomygovernment,”shesaid.“Right?”
“TheIranians,yes,”saidBoynton.
“Becausehewantedustokillthem.Andtobeblamed.”
“Yes,”saidKatherine.“What’reyougettingat?”
“Who’stosayhe’snotdoingthesamethinghere?Manipulatingus?”
“Heprobablyis,”agreedCharlesBoynton.“Butthistimeweknowit.”
“That’snottheonlydifference,”saidZahara.“Ithinkwe’vebeenfocusingtoomuchonShah.Becausehewantsusto.WhywouldhegivethismessagetoSecretaryAdams?”
“Becausehe’sanegotisticalmaniacwhocan’thelptoyingwithus?”suggestedBoynton.
“He’sallthat,”saidGil.“Buthe’salsoabusinessman.Ifthisfails,he’llhavehisbuyerstoanswerto,andIdoubthewantsthat.Ithinkhe’sjustalittleafraiditwillfail.Timeistight,andwe’regettingcloserthanhethoughtpossible.”
“Ithinksotoo,”saidZahara.“This’sinsurance.Theman’spracticallyjumpingupanddownandwavingatustolookathim.”
“Andawayfromwhereweshouldbelooking,”saidKatherine.
“Butwhere’sthat?”askedBoynton.
“Athisclients,”saidAnahita.“Shah’sthearmsdealer.Themiddleman.Hearrangesforthebombstobemade,buthe’snottheoneusingthem.He’snottheonechoosingthetargetsandthetiming.”
“Exactly.Butheprobablyknows,”saidZahara.
“Yes,heprobablydoes,”saidAnahita.“Hemight’veevenarrangedfortheirdelivery.”
“Butit’shisclientswhodecidewhereandwhen,”saidKatherine,hereyeswideningasshegraspedwhattheyweregettingat.“We’vebeenlookingatthesenumbersfromShah’sperspective,butweneedtochange—”
“ToAl-Qaeda’s,”saidZahara.
Anahitaturnedtohercousin.“We’vebeenthinkingwithWesternminds.You’resayingweneedtostartseeingthesenumberswithIslamicminds.”
“NotIslamic.Jihadist,”saidZahara.“Whatwouldthesenumbersmeanintheirworld?Whatsignificancecouldtheyhave?Al-Qaedaandotherterroristorganizationsrelyheavilyonmythology,notjustreligion.Theyrepeatandrepeatgrievances,wrongsdonetothem,ancientandnew.Theykeepthewoundsopen.Sowhatwoundmightthosenumbersbelongto?”
3101600
“Wehaveabody!”
Astheagentapproachedtheman,lyingfacedowninthebasementofShah’shouse,hesawthattherewerewiresjustvisiblebeneaththecorpse.
“It’swired,”theagentreported,andbackedaway.
They’dknowntheplacewasdesertedbeforethey’dputthesecondstepintothecourtyard.Therewasnoresistance,andamanlikeShahwouldsurroundhimselfwithaprivatearmy.
No.Therewasnoonethere.Nooneliving,thatwas.
EllenandBetsywereonthemainfloorinShah’sstudy,riflingthroughhispapers.Theareahadbeensweptfordevicesandwasdeemedsafe.
“Youneedtoleave,MadameSecretary,”saidSteve.“They’vefoundabodyinthebasement,wiredwithexplosives.”
“IsitShah?”Betsyasked,thoughsheknewtheanswer.
Stevewasshepherdingthemoutofthehouse.“Wedon’tknow.Theywanttodefusethebombbeforeturninghimoverandidentifyinghim.”
Ellenwasallbutcertainsheknewwhosebodywasinthebasement,andfiveminuteslateritwasconfirmed.GeneralLakhani,thePakistaniMilitarySecretary.
TheAzhiDahakahadbeenbusythatnight.Cleaningup,usingbloodandterrorasthesolution.
Whentheall-clearwasannounced,Betsywenttoreturntothehouseandtheirsearchthroughthedocuments,butEllenstoppedher.
“There’snothingthere.He’stakenitall.Andanythingwemightfindwillhavebeenplantedtomisdirectus.Weneedtogo.”
“ToMoscow?”askedBetsy.Shelookedlikeshe’dhavepreferredtogobackinsideandriskthebomb.
“Moscow.”
Itwas,Ellenknew,thelasthouseontheroad.AfterMoscow,therewasnowhereelsetogo.Excepthome,towait.
Thoughtherewasonemoreavenuetopursue.Whenthey’dboardedAirForceThree,Betsycontinuedhersearchforthemissingjournalist.Theonewho’dunearthedHLI.
SomewhereoverKazakhstan,shefoundhim.
CHAPTER39
ItwastenpastnineonalateFabruarymorningwhenAirForceThreelandedinasnowstormatSheremetyevoInternationalAirportinMoscow.
Theskylookedlikeithadbeenpunched.Bruisedcloudsblockedoutthewintersun,weakatthebestoftimes.BetsyrememberedwhatMikeTysonhadoncesaid.
“Everyonehasaplanuntiltheygetpunchedinthemouth.”
Shefeltmorethanalittlepunch-drunk.Andiftheyhadaplan,shenolongerrememberedwhatitwas.
NeitherEllen,norBetsy,northeirDiplomaticSecurityagentshadbroughtcoats.Orgloves.Orhats.AquickcallhadbeenplacedtotheAmericanembassyandseveralarmoredSUVswerewaitingforthemonthetarmac.Buttheyhadn’tthoughttoaskforheavierclothing.
Takingadeepbreath,Ellensteppedoutoftheplanewithonlyanumbrellaoverherheadtoprotecther.Itwasimmediatelyturnedinsideout,hitbyawindthathadstartedinSiberiaandracedacrossRussia,pickingupsnowandiceandspeed,beforeslammingintoher.Shestoodatthetopofthestairway,momentarilyshocked.Unabletobreathe.Unabletomoveexcepttoblinkawaythesnowasitpeltedagainstherfaceandintohereyes.
Handingthenowuselessumbrellatotheagentbehindher,shereachedouttosteadyherself.Herhandsgraspedthecoldmetalofthebanister,andsheimmediatelyletgo,forfearthewarmerfleshofherhandwouldfreezetoitandshe’dhavetotearherpalmoff.
“Areyouallright?”Stevehadtoshoutintohereartobeheardabovethebuffeting.
Allright?Howwrongcouldadaygo?ButthenshethoughtoftheRangers.Ofthoseonthebuses.Ofthemothersandfathersandchildren,holdingphotographs.
OfPeteHamiltonandScottCargill.
“Fine,”sheshoutedbackandsaw,outofthecornerofhereye,Betsy’snodofagreement.
ForChristmasthatyear,Betsyhadgivenheracopyofthelatestworkbyherfavoritepoet,RuthZardo.TheslimvolumewascalledI’mF.I.N.E.
Itstoodfor“Fuckedup,Insecure,Neurotic,andEgotistical.”
SecretaryAdamsclampedherteethtogethertostoptheshiveringandturnedbacktothepeoplewaitingbelow.Sheforcedherselftosmile,asthoughshe’djustlandedonsomeCaribbeanislandforaholiday.
PresidentWilliamshad,sheknew,specificallyaskedthathervisitbeconfidential.Noattention.Nofuss.Anddefinitelynomedia.
JustaprivatemeetingbetweenhisSecretaryofStateandthePresidentofRussia.
Nowshestoodatthetopofthestairs,andwavedatthejournalistswiththeircameras.AskIvanovtodosomethingandyouwerepracticallyguaranteedhe’ddotheopposite.Maybe,shethoughtasshewasrackedbyanothershudder,sheshoulddemandthathenot,underanycircumstances,tellherwhereBashirShahwas.
Norshouldhetellherwherethebombswerehidden.
Shestarteddownthesteps,hopingshe’dreachthebottombeforeshefrozetodeath.Byhalfwaydown,shewasfindingitdifficulttowalk.Herlegsandfeet,inlowheels,werebeginningtofreeze,andshecouldnolongerfeelherface.
Thestairswerecoveredinsnowandice,andwitheachstepsheslidalittle.ShewonderedifIvanovhaddonethisonpurpose.Surelyitwouldn’tbethathardtoclearthestairs?Didhehopeshe’dbreakherneck?
Well,shedamnwellwouldnot,shedecided,evenasherfootwentoutfromunderheragain.Shejustmanagedtorightherself.
Ellencouldseethevehicles,parkedfartherawaythannecessary.Warmth.Shewantedtoleapdownthelastfewstepsandruntowardthem.Hopingtogettherebeforesheturnedintoanicesculpture.
Insteadsheforcedherselftoslowdownandstopjustbeforethebottomstair,waitingforBetsy,whowasafewstepsbehindher.Sheknewitbythemuttered“Fuck,fuck,fuck.”
IfBetsyslippedontheicystairs,Ellenwantedtobeabletobreakherfall.AsBetsyhadcushionedhers,allherlife.
Finally,afteradescentthatfeltlikeEverest,herfeettouchedthesnow-coveredtarmac.
Ellenforcedherselftonodandsmiletowardthegreeters.Atleastshehopedshewassmiling.Itwaspossibleherfacehadsimplycracked.
Allthoseassembledtomeetherworeparkassoheavy,withfur-linedhoodspulledup,theycouldhavebeenmenorwomen.Polarbearsormannequins.
Sheskiddedonherwaytothecar,butStevecaughtherarm.Onceinthevehicle,Ellenbeganshakinguncontrollably.Sherubbedherarms,thenheldherhandstotheheatingvent.
“Youallright?”sheaskedBetsy,thoughitcameoutasanunintelligiblemumble.
Betsy’sfrozenfaceandchatteringteethmeantshewasreducedtoansweringwithaseriesofgrunts.Thoughshedidsomehowmanagetomakeeventhoseprofane.
“Whattimeisit?”EllenaskedSteveoncehermouthwouldworkagain.
“Twenty-fivetoten,”hesaid,hiswordsbarelyformedthroughstill-frozenlips.
“AndinDC?”
Helookedathiswatch.“Twenty-fiveto”—aspasmofcoldwentthroughhim—“threeinthemorning.”
“MayIhavemyphone,please?”Onceshehadit,shetypedashortmessagetoPresidentWilliams.Herfingerswereshakingsobadlyshehadtogobackafewtimestocorrecthermistakes.Andtocorrecttheautocorrect,whichhadchanged“bombs”tosomethingthatshouldneverappearinamessagetothePresidentoftheUnitedStates.
DougWilliamsreadthemessage.
HewasintheOvalOffice.ThesecurityteamhadswepttheWhiteHouseandfoundnotraceofuranium-235,oranyradiation.Thoughtheyhadinformedhimthatdidn’tmeantherereallywasnothing.Justthattheyhadn’tfoundit.
TheSecretService,awareofwhatwashappening,asked,demanded,thenbeggedhimtoleave.Theyknew,asdidhe,thatiftherereallywasanucleardeviceintheWhiteHouse,itwouldbeplacedasclosetothePresidentaspossible.
Butherefusedtogo.
“It’sanemptygesture,sir,”hissenioragentsnapped,tired,stressed,andexasperated.
“Youthink?”Williamsstudiedthewoman.“You’vebeenaroundpresidentslongenoughtoknowthatnogesture,noword,noactionorinaction,iswithoutimpact.Whatwouldbeworse?Todiehere,ortolettheterroristsknowthey’vechasedthePresidentoutofhisownhouse?”Hesmiledather.“Believeme,I’dlovetoleave.I’verealizedinthepastfewhoursthatI’mnotabraveman.ButIcan’tgo.I’msorry.”
“Thenneithercanwe.”
“I’morderingyouto.Yourdeathsreallywouldbeanemptygesture.Listen,Iknowit’syourjobtoprotectme,butthatmeanstryingtostopanattack.OreventakingabullettoprotectthePresident.Butyoucan’ttakeabomb.Ifitgoesoff,youcan’tprotectme.Mydeathwouldbeastatementtotheworldthatwewillnotbeintimidated.Yourdeathswouldbemeaningless.Youhavetoleave.AndIhavetostay.”
They,ofcourse,refused.ButtheagentinchargemadeaconcessiontoherCommander-in-Chief.Agentswithyoungchildrenwerereassignedtotheouterfence.Wheretheymightbesafer.
OnlywhenWilliamswasalonedidtheGeneralcomeoutoftheprivatebathroom.
ThetwomenstoodatthewindowandgazedacrosstheSouthLawn.
“Justsoyouknow,Mr.President,youareaverybraveman.”
“Thankyou,General,buttellthattomyshorts.”
“Isthatanorder,sir?”
WilliamslaughedandlookedattheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff.Aslongashelived,PresidentWilliamswouldnotforgetthelookontheman’sfaceashe’dstoodinthedoorway.WhenherealizedalltheRangersontheplateauweredead.Includinghisownaide-de-camp,whomhe’dpersonallychosentoleadtheassault.Anassault,adiversion,thathadbeentheGeneral’sidea.
Evennow,hourslater,thelookofhorrorwasstillthere,likeacaulvisibleonlytosomeonestandingveryclose.
WilliamssuspecteditwouldbethereaslongastheGenerallived.
Itwasaquartertothree.
Sothatcouldbeanothertwenty-fiveminutes.
ThroughthesnowsquallsEllencouldseethebrutalpostwarSovietbuildingsslippingbyandthepeople,headsbowed,alsoslippingby.Leaningintotheblizzard.Trudgingtowork.Notbotheringtolookupasthemotorcadepassed.
Whilenotenamoredoftheleadership,SecretaryAdamsverymuchlikedtheRussianpeople.Atleastthoseshe’dmet.Theyweremorethanresilient;theywerevibrant,fulloflifeandlaughter.Alwaysgenerousandhospitable.Readytoshareameal,abottle.EllencouldneverdenythefortitudeoftheRussianpeople.Thoughitstruckherasacryingshamethatthey’dvaliantlyfoughtofftheNazisandfascismfromtheoutside,onlytoseeitcreeptowardthemfromwithin.
Ellenwasmorethanalittleafraidthatifhermissionfailed,thesamethingwouldhappenintheUnitedStates.Was,infact,alreadyhappening.
They’dscoredavictoryoverthedespot,deposinghiminafairelection.Butthevictorywasfragile.Still,herjobwasn’ttoconvincetheelectorate.Herjobwastomakesuretheygottothenextelection.
Shelookedatthetime.Fivetoteninthemorning,Moscowtime.
FivetothreeinDC.
ShesawtheremarkableoniondomesoftheKremlinupahead,appearinganddisappearingthroughtheblowingsnow.EllenandBetsyhadwarmedup,atleastenoughtostopshivering,thoughtheirclothesweresoddenandtheirshoeswetandstainedfromtheoilyslushofthetarmac.
Ellenlonged,longed,foralonghotshower.Butitwasn’ttobe.
Betsycheckedherphone.She’dfoundtheformerWhiteHousecorrespondentlivinginQuébec,inasmallvillagecalledThreePines.He’dchangedhisname,butitwashim.
She’dsentamessage,askingforhishelp.
Despitethelatehour,hereplied.He’dstartedanewlife,heexplained.Hadfalleninloveandwasnowlivingwiththeownerofabookstore,awomannamedMyrna.Heworkedintheshopthreedaysaweekanddidvolunteerjobsaroundthevillagetherestofthetime.
Clearingsnow,deliveringfood.Cuttinglawnsinsummer.
Hewashappy.Goaway.
Hehadn’taskedwhatitwasabout,thoughbyhisreplyBetsysuspectedhehadguessed.
Still,bestshewasclear.
HLI,shewrote,andhitsend.
Therehadbeensilenceeversince,thoughshethoughtshecouldfeelhisterrorpulsingthroughthephone,asthoughfearwereanappandshe’djusttriggeredit.
“MadameSecretary.”
EllenwasmetatthedooroftheKremlinbyPresidentIvanov’sjunioraide,whosmiledandledtheminside,whereEllen’ssecurityteamwasaskedtosurrendertheirweapons.
“I’msorry,ma’am,”saidSteve.“Butwecan’tdothat.Ibelievewehavediplomaticexemptiontocarryweapons.”Heshowedherhiscredentials.
“Spasibo.Yes,undernormalcircumstancesthat’strue,butsincethisisalast-minutevisit,wehaven’thadtimetodothepaperwork.”
“Whatpaperwork?”OnthesurfaceSteveKowalskiwasperfectlycalm,butEllencouldseetheveinthrobbingathistemple.
“Oh,youknowdemocracies,”theaidesaidwithasmile.“Alwaysformstofillout.”
“Notlikethegoodolddays,”saidBetsyandgotasteelylook.
“It’sallright,”EllensaidtoSteve,softly.
“Noitisnot,MadameSecretary.Ifsomethinghappens…”
“You’llstillbewithme.Andnothingwillhappen.Let’sjustgetthisoverwithandgetout.”
Itwastwominutespastten.
Eightminutesleft.
DougWilliamssatonthecouchintheOvalOffice.AcrossfromhimwastheGeneral.
They’dknowneachotherforyears.ThePresidenthadmettheGeneral’swifeandson,who’ddoneastintintheAirForceinAfghanistan.WilliamsfeltheshouldtelltheGeneraltoleave,butthetruthwas,hewasgladofthecompany.
Bothheldglassesofscotch.They’ddownedthefirst,toastingeachother’shealth,andnownursedthesecond.
Williamsdidn’tknowifitwaspettyonhispart,buthe’dorderedTimBeechambackfromLondon.ThethoughtofhisDirectorofNationalIntelligencesittinginBrown’sHotelenjoyingafullEnglishbreakfastwhilehesatonanuclearbombwastoomuchforthePresident.
Beechamwouldn’tarriveforanotherfewhours,butitstillgavePresidentWilliamssomesmallsatisfaction.
Asthetwomenchatted,Williamscouldn’thelpfeelingtheyshouldbetalkingaboutthingsthatwereofhistoricsignificance,ofvitalimportanceeitherpoliticallyorpersonally.Buttheyendeduptalkingaboutdogs.
TheGeneral’sowndogwasaGermanshepherdnamedPine.Hewas,hetoldthePresident,agiftfromaclosefriendinasmallvillageinQuébec.TheGeneralhadvisitedhisfriend,aseniorofficerwiththeS?reté,onesummer.They’dsatonthebenchonthevillagegreen,intheshadowofthethreehugepinetrees.He’dlistenedtothebirdsandthebreezeandthechildrenplayingandfeltatpeaceforthefirsttimeindecades.
Somuchso,he’dnamedthedogafterthevillage.
WilliamstalkedaboutBishop,agoldenretrievernamednotforanecclesiastic,butaschoolthePresidenthadattendedandespeciallyliked.Probablybecauseitwaswhereheandhislatewifehadmet.Bishopnormallysat,orslept,underthedeskintheOvalOffice,butDougWilliamshadaskedaWhiteHousebutlertogetBishopfarawayfromtheWhiteHouse.
Andtotakecareofhim.Ifneedbe.
Fiveminutesleft.
“MadameSecretary.”
MaximIvanovstoodinthemiddleoftheroom,notmoving.ForcingEllentogotohim,whichshedid.Thesepettygestures,meanttoinsult,hadnoeffectonher.Oncetheymighthavegottenuphernose,butnottoday.
“Mr.President.”
Theyshookhands,andEllenintroducedBetsy,whileIvanovintroducedhisownsenioraide.Not,Ellennoticed,anadvisor.Noonegavethismanadvice.Nottwice,anyway.
Ivanovwasmuchsmallerthanshe’dexpected.Buthispersonalpresencewasintense.Standingclosetohimfeltlikebeingnexttoanexplosivewhosetriggerwasheldinplacebyatightlystrungelastic,stretchedtobreaking.
TherewasalmostnothingbetweentheRussianPresidentandbedlam.Hehadthat,andsomuchmore,incommonwithEricDunn.Whatwasdifferent,andimmediatelyobvious,wasthatMaximIvanovwastherealthing.
Aruthlesstyrant,schooledinoppressionbothsubtleandcruel.
WhileEricDunnhadanaturalinstinctforotherpeople’sweaknesses,whathedidn’thavewascalculation.Hewasfartoolazyforthat.Butthisman?Thismancalculatedeverything,withacoldnessthatwouldhavegivenSiberiaachill.
ButwhatIvanovhadn’tcountedon,whathedidn’tseecoming,wasEllenAdams.HehadnotexpectedtheAmericanSecretaryofStatetohoponAirForceThreeandcometoMoscow.TotheKremlin.Rightintohisparlor.
Forherpart,Ellencouldseethatbeneaththesteelygazetherewasrareconfusion.Andwithit,somefear,andwiththat,anger.
Hedidn’tlikethis.Hedidn’tlikeher.Neverhad,andnevermorethannow.
Butshecouldalsoseethat,facedwithher,hisconfidencewasreturning.AndEllenknewwhy.
Itwasbecauseshewasamess.Herhairwasaskew,bouffantononesideandplasteredtoherheadontheother.She’dgottenreadyontheplane,buttheblizzardhadblownallthataway.
Herclothesweredampandsoiled.Hershoessquelchedasshe’dapproached.
Thiswasnotaformidablerepresentativeofasuperpower.ThiswasadrownedratofanAmericanSecretaryofState.Pathetic.Weak.Likethecountrysherepresented.Orsohethought.Orsoshewantedhimtothink.
“Coffee?”heaskedthroughaninterpreter.
“Pozhaluysta,”saidEllen.Please.
ShecouldhaveaskedtofreshenupbeforemeetingPresidentIvanovbuthadchosennotto.SheknewthatmenlikeIvanovandDunnwouldalwaysundervalueandunderestimatewomen.Especiallyonewhowasdisheveled.
Itwasaverysmalladvantageforher.AnditwasbestnottomakethesamemistakeandunderestimateIvanov.Badthingshappenedtothosewhodid.
Timewastickingdown,andnowthattheimpressionhadbeenmade,shecouldask.
“Doyoumind,Mr.President,ifmycounselorandIfreshenup?”
“Notatall.”Hemotionedtothejunioraide,wholedthewomentotherestroom.
Itwasrudimentarybuthadthenecessities.And,mostofall,itwasprivate.
Oncein,thefirstthingEllendidwasplacethecall.
Ninetysecondsleft.
PresidentWilliams’sphonerang.Helookedatit.EllenAdams.
“Doyouhavesomething?”heasked,allowinghishopestorise.
“No,I’msorry.”
“Isee,”hesaid,thedisappointment,theacceptance,obviousinhisvoice.Therewouldbenodeliverance.Thecavalrywouldnotarrive.
3101600
Fiftysecondsleft.
“We’vejustarrivedattheKremlinandIwanted…,”Ellenbegan,thenpeteredout.“Ididn’twantyoutobealone.”
“I’mnot.”Hetoldherwhowaswithhim.
“I’mglad,”shesaid.“Well,gladisn’t…”
“Iknowwhatyoumean.”
Thirtysecondsleft.Betsystoodcloseenoughtohear.Boththeirheartswerepounding.
IntheOvalOffice,DougWilliamsstoodup.AsdidtheGeneral.
Twentyseconds.
Thewomenlockedeyes.
Themenlockedeyes.
Tenseconds.
Williamsclosedhis.TheGeneralclosedhis.
Therewasameadowwithwildflowers.Abrightsunnyday.
Two.
One.
Silence.Silence.Agreatsilence.
Theywaited.Thetimingmightbeoffbyafewseconds.Evenaminute.
WilliamsopenedhiseyesandsawtheGeneralstaringathim.Butstilltheydidn’ttalk.Didn’tdare.
“OhmyGod,”saidAnahita.“IthinkIhaveit.What‘3101600’means.”
“What?”saidBoyntonastheycrowdedaroundher.
“Whatyousaidaboutthinkingfromajihadist’spointofview,”shesaidtoZahara.“Whenwesay‘9/11,’weallknowwhatthatmeans.Suppose‘310’isthesameforAl-Qaeda.”
“Why?”askedKatherine.“Whatcoulditmean?”
“OsamabinLadenwasbornonthetenthofMarch.Threeten.”Anahitaturnedherphonearoundforthemtoseethebioshe’dbroughtup.“See?It’shisbirthday.Today.Al-QaedahasvowedtoavengehisdeathatthehandsofAmericans.That’swhythebombsaresettogoofftoday.They’remakingapoint.It’ssymbolic.”
“It’srevenge,”saidBoynton.
Katherinewaslookingitupandnodded.“It’strue.HewasbornMarch10th,1957.Sowhatdoes‘1600’mean?”
“It’sthetimehewaskilled,”saidZahara.
“No,”saidKatherine.“Accordingtothis,hewaskilledatoneinthemorning.”
“InPakistan,”saidGil.“That’sfourintheafternoonontheAmericanEastCoast.”
“WeknowthatfromworkinginIslamabadandreportingbacktoDC,”saidAnahita,holdingGil’seyes.“Wehavetogetwordtoyourmother.”
“Here.”Gilhandedherhisphone.“Youcrackedthecode,yousendthemessage.”
Ellenquicklyscannedthetext,thenimmediatelyreadittothePresident.
DougWilliamsexhaled.
“Lookslikewehaveanotherthirteenhours,General.Thenwedothisalloveragain.”
Whenheexplainedaboutthecode,theGeneralnodded.“Wehavetimetofindthegoddamnedthings.Andwewill.”HecalledtoEllen,stillonthephone.“Thankyou,MadameSecretary.Andbecareful.”
“Youtoo.I’llseeyouintheWhiteHouse.I’mcominghomeassoonasIfinishhere.”
“Youmightwanttotakeyourtime,”saidWilliams.“Tomorrowissoonenough.”
CHAPTER40
Astheyfreshenedup,BetsytoldEllenaboutfindingthejournalist.“He’safraid,”shesaid.“That’swhyhenotonlyleftthepaper,heleftthecountryandchangedhisname.”
“Sohemightactuallyknowsomething?”askedEllen.
“Ithinkso.”
“Weneedtogettohim.”
“Kidnaphim?”askedBetsy.Sheseemedalmostpleasedatthethought.
“Jesus,Bets,Ithinkwecanleaveonepersonunkidnapped.”
“I’mnotsurethat’saword.”
“I’mnotsurethat’sthepoint.No,weneedsomeonewhocanreasonwithhim.Canyoufindoutifhehasfamilyorclosefriends?Someonewecansendthere,fast?”
Onleavingtherestroom,EllenhandedherphonetoSteve,whosearchedherface.KnowingwhatcouldverywellhavejusthappenedbackinDC.
“All’swell,”shesaid,andsawtherelief.
“Iwasgettingworriedthatyou’dleft,Mrs.Adams,”PresidentIvanovsaidwhentheyreturned.“Yourcoffeeisgettingcold.”
“I’msureit’sdelicious.”Shetookasip,andindeeditwas.Richandstrong.
“Now,Ihavetoadmit,I’mcuriouswhyyoucamehere.”Ivanovleanedbackinhisarmchairandopenedhislegswide.“DirectlyfromPakistan,whichyoutraveledtofromTehran.AndbeforethatyouwereinOmanvisitingtheSultan,andbeforethatFrankfurt.You’vehadabusytime.”
“Andyou’vekeptacloseeyeonme,”saidEllen.“Nicetoknowyoucare.”
“Itpassesthetime.Andnowyou’rehere.”Hestaredather.“Ithink,MadameSecretary,Icanguesswhy.”
“Iwonderifthat’strue,Mr.President.”
“Shallweplacebets?AmillionrublessaysithastodowiththebombsthatwentoffinEurope.You’vecometomeforadvice.ThoughwhyyouthinkIcanhelpisbeyondme.”
“Oh,Ithinkverylittleisbeyondyou.Andyou’repartlyright.Perhapswesplitthewinnings.”
Hissmileflattened.Whenhespokeagain,hisvoicewashard,hiswordsclipped.
“Thenletmespecify.”
TheonlythingmoreimportanttoMaximIvanovthanbeingrightwasnotbeingwrong.Andcertainlynottobetoldhewaswrong.Andcertainlynottobetoldhewaswrongbywhathesawasadisheveled,frumpy,middle-agedwoman.Aneophyteinagamehehadmastered.
Everymeetingwithanotherstatewasawar,andhewouldwin.Therewasneveratie.
“Yes?”Ellencockedherheadasthoughheamusedher.
“You’vediscoveredthatthescientistskilledinthoseexplosionswerenotthesameonesBashirShahhiredtoworkonthenuclearbombshe’ssellingtohisclients.You’rehereinthehopesIcanhelpyoufindthosebombsbeforetheytooexplode.”
“Whatalotyouknowaboutit,Mr.President.Andagain,you’repartlyright.I’mhereaboutabomb,butnotthenucleartype.Wehavethatwellinhand.I’vecomeasacourtesy.Tohelpyoudisarmsomethingabouttoexplodeclosertohome.”
Heleanedforward.“Here?IntheKremlin?”Helookedaround.
“Inamannerofspeaking.Asyouknow,mysonworksforReuters.Hesentmeastoryhe’sabouttofile,andIthought,asasignofrespect,thatIshouldshowittoyoufirst.Inperson.”
“Me?Whyme?”
“Well,ithastodowithyou,Maxim.”
Ivanovsatbackagainandsmiled.“You’renotstillchasingthatstoryaboutmeandtheRussianmafia,areyou?There’snosuchthing,andiftherewas,I’dputanendtoit.Iwon’tstandforanyoneunderminingtheRussianFederationorhurtingitscitizens.”
“Verynoble.I’msurethepeopleofChechnyawillbehappytohearit.Butno.Notthemafia.”
Betsysatverystill,herfaceplacid,thoughallthiswasnewstoher.Ontheflightover,Ellenhadspenttimeonhercomputer,butnotcommunicatingwithGil.Sowhathadshebeendoing?
LikeIvanov,Betsywascurioustoseewherethiswasgoing.Though,judgingbyhisface,byhiscoiledbody,hemightbeslightlymorecurious.
“Then…?”saidIvanov.
“Then…”EllennoddedtoSteve,whobroughtherherphone.Afterafewclicksandswipes,sheturneditaround.
Betsycouldnotseethescreen,butshecouldseeIvanov’sface,whichwassuddenlyred.Thenpurple.
Hisgrayeyesnarrowed,andhislipswerecompressed.Andtherepulsedoffhimafuryshe’dneverfeltbefore.Itwaslikebeinghitinthefacewithabrick.AndBetsyfoundshewassuddenlyafraid.
TheyweredeepinRussia.DeepintheKremlin.Ellen’sDiplomaticSecurityhadbeendisarmed.Howdifficultwoulditbetodisappearthem?Putoutwordthey’dtakenaninternalflight,andithadcrashed.
ShelookedatEllen,whosefacewasacipher.Butatinythrobathertemplegaveitaway.TheAmericanSecretaryofStatewasalsoafraid.
Butwasnotgoingtobackdown.
“Whatthefuckisthis!”Ivanovshouted.
“What?”saidEllen,hertonenolongermildlyamused.Nowtherewasacoldness,aharshnesstoit,thatBetsyhadrarelyheard.“Itisn’tthefirsttimeyou’veseenphotoslikethese,isit,Maxim?You’veusedthembeforeyourself.Andifyouswiperight,you’llseeavideo.ButIwouldn’t.It’sprettyawful.Notnearlyasgoodastheoneswhereyou’rebare-chestedonthathorse,thoughGiltellsmethehorsedoesfigureinanothervideo.”
NowBetsywasreallycurious.
IvanovwasglaringatEllen,unabletospeak.Or,morelikely,allthewordswerepilingup,likealogjaminhisthroat.
Ellenbegantodrawthephoneback,butIvanov’shandwhippedoutand,grabbingit,hethrewitagainstthewall.
“Now,Maxim,noneedtohaveatantrum.Thatwon’tgetyouanywhere.”
“Youstupid,stupidbitch!”
“Bitch,maybe,butisitreallyallthatstupid?Ilearneditfromyou.Howmanypeoplehaveyoublackmailed,howmanyhaveyouruinedwithdoctoredimagesofpedophilia?Whenyoucalmdown,wecantalklikeadults.”
Betsynoticed,withrelief,thatSteveandtheotherDiplomaticSecurityagenthadmovedconsiderablyclosertothem.StevehadretrievedherphoneandnowgaveitbacktoEllen,whocheckedit.
Stillworking.
“Youknow,”shesaid,balancingitonherknee,asthoughtauntingIvanovwithit,“you’relucky.Ifyou’dbrokenthephone,andIcouldn’tcontactmyson,thatstorywouldrun.Asitis,youhavefiveminutestodisarmthisbomb.”Shenoddedtowardthephone.“Beforeitgoesout,andoff.”
“Youwouldnotdothat.”
“Andwhywouldn’tI?”
“Itwoulddestroyallhopeofpeacebetweenournations.”
“Really?Andisthatthepeacethatcomeswithnotone,nottwo,butthreenuclearbombs?”
Hewenttotalk,butsheheldupherhandandcuthimoff.
“Enoughofthis.We’rewastingtimethatneitherofushas.”Sheleanedtowardhim.“YounotonlyruntheRussianmafia,youcreatedit.You’rethefatherofthatobscenityanditdoeswhatyousay.TheRussianmafiahasaccesstoRussianuranium.How?Throughyou.Specifically,uranium-235,minedintheSouthUrals.Fissile.ItssignaturewasfoundinthefactoryUSforcesraidedlastnightinPakistan.TheuraniumwassoldbythemafiatoBashirShah,whohirednuclearphysiciststoturnitintodirtybombs.HethensoldthemtoAl-Qaeda.WhoplacedtheminAmericancities.Allthisunderyouraegis.IneedtoknowwhereShahis,andIneedtoknowexactlywherethosebombsare.”
“Thisisfantasy.”
Shepickedupherphoneandcomposedamessage.Thenherfingerhoveredoverthesendbutton.Therewasnomistakingherresolve,ortherevulsionshefeltwhenlookingathim.
“Goon,”hesaid.“Noonewillbelieveit.”
“Theybelieveditwhenyoudoctoredsimilarphotostoframeyouropponents.It’syourfavoritego-tomove,isn’tit?Theneutronbombofpoliticalassassinations.Achargeofpedophilia,completewithphotographs.Asurething.”
“I’mtoowellrespected,”saidIvanov,thoughhe’ddrawnhiskneestogether.“Noonewouldbelieveit.Noonewoulddare.”
“Ah,andtherewehaveit.Fear.Yourulebyfear.Butwhatyoucreateisn’tloyalty,it’senemies-in-waiting.Andthis”—sheheldupthephone—“isthefusethatwillstarttherevolution.Pedophilia,Maxim.Believeme,they’reimagesnoteasytoforget.Butyou’reprobablyright.Let’sjustsee.”
Beforehecouldsayanything,shehitsend.
“Wait,”heshouted.
“Toolate.It’sgone.Gilwillgetthatmessage,andwithinthirtysecondshe’llpostthestory.Inoneminute,it’llbearoundtheworldontheReutersnewswire.Inthree,it’llbepickedupbyotheragencies.Secondsafterthat,socialmediawillhaveitandyou’llbetrending.Infourminutes,yourcareer,yourlifeasyouknowit,willbeover.Eventhosewhosaytheydon’tbelieveitwillhidetheirchildrenandlockawaytheirpetswhentheyseeyoucoming.”
Heglaredatherinunvarnishedhatred.“I’llsue.”
“Absolutely.Iwouldtoo.Butsadly,thedamagewouldbedone.There’salwaysachance,Mr.President,thatinthenextfewsecondsIcanstopGilfromposting.”
“Idon’tknowwherethebombsare.”
Ellenstoodup.Betsystoodupwithher,clutchingherhandsintofiststostopthemfromshaking.UntiltheywereonAirForceThree,they’dbeatthisman’smercy.AndmercywasinshortsupplyinIvanov’sRussia.
“It’sthetruth,”heshouted.“Killthestory.”
“Why?You’vegivenmenothing.Besides,Ireallydon’tlikeyou.I’mhappytoseeyougodown.”Sheheadedforthedoor.“We’llhaveamuchbetterchanceatpeacewhenyou’reofftendingrosesinyourdacha.”
“IknowwhereShahis.”
Ellenstopped.Stoodstill.Thenturned.“Tellme.Now.”
Ivanovwavered,thenfinallysaid,“Islamabad.Hewasrightunderyournose.”
“Onceagain,you’rewrong.Hewasthere,buthe’sgone.HeleftthebodyoftheMilitarySecretarybehind,wiredtoexplode.Didyouknowthat?Must’vetakenyoualongtimetogroomGeneralLakhaniasanasset,andnowyouhavetobeginagain,thoughIthinkyou’llfindPrimeMinisterAwanlessblindthanheoncewas.AllthankstoShah.Notaverystableally,ishe.”Sheglaredathim.“Whereishe?”Sheraisedhervoice.“Tellme.”
“TheUnitedStates.”
“Where?”
“Florida.”
“Where?”
“PalmBeach.”
“You’relying.Wehavehisvillaundersurveillance.Noone’sarrived.”
“Notthere,”saidIvanov.Nowhewassmiling.
“Ticktock,Mr.President.WhereinPalmBeach?”
ThoughbythenbothEllenandBetsyknewtheanswer.Still,itcameasashocktohearitfromthethinlipsoftheRussianPresident.
CHAPTER41
“Irefusetobelieveit,”saidPresidentWilliams.“Allwehaveisthewordofatyrant.EricDunn’sanarrogantfool,ausefulidiotforthefarright,nevermindIvanovandShah,buthe’dneverknowinglyprotectaterrorist.Ivanov’slying,he’splayingyou.”
Ellenexhaled,exasperated,andlookedacrossatBetsy.TheywereonAirForceThree,ontheirwayhome.
“He’snotwrong,”saidBetsy.“YousawthelookonIvanov’sface.Ifhecould’veskinnedyoualive,hewouldhave.There’snoguaranteehe’stellingthetruth,evenwithyoublackmailinghimwiththephotographs.Especiallythen.Atthisstagehe’ddojustaboutanythingtodestroyyou.”
Ellenhadputherhandoverherphone,butshecouldstillhearthePresidentoftheUnitedStates’tiny,tinnyvoice,asthoughtrappedinthedevice.“Blackmail?Whatphotographs?”
Sheliftedherhandoffthephoneandexplained.
“Holyshit.Youdidthat?Thechild…?”
“Thelittleboywascomputer-generated.Hedoesn’texist,”saidEllen.
“ThankGodforthat.Butyoudoctoredphotographs,thenblackmailedaheadofstate?”Williamsdemanded.
“He’stheheadofacriminalorganizationthat’shelpedputnuclearbombsonAmericansoil.Yes,Ididallthat,andI’ddomoreifitcametoit.Whatdidyouexpectmetodo?Waterboardhim?Look,youmightberight,hemight’veliedaboutShahbeingatDunn’shome.There’sonlyonewaytofindout.”
“I’mguessingyou’renotsuggestingringingthedoorbell.”
“No.I’msuggestingacommandoraidonthehomeofaformerPresidenttokidnaponeofhisguests.”
“OhJesus,”hesighed.“Listen,Ellen,Ivanovisclever.Ifthisisacoup,wemightbeplayingrightintohishands.EvenifwefindShahandthebombs,andmanagetodisarmthem,we’llbethrownoutfornotjustbreakingthelawbutattackingapoliticalrival.Literallyattacking,withactualweapons.GoodGod,ifIauthorizearaidonhiscompound,EricDunncouldevenbeinjured.Thenwhat?”TheysatinsilenceforafewmomentsbeforePresidentWilliamsasked,“DoyoubelieveDunn’saRussianasset?”
Ellentookadeepbreath.“Maybenotintentionally,butIthinkhemightbeunwittingly.Notthatthatmatters.Itcomestothesamething.IfDunngetsbackin,he’llbeapawn.TheUSmightaswellbeaRussianstate.MaximIvanovwillbecallingtheshots.He’lltheninstallhisownpersonasPrimeMinisterofPakistanandmakesurethenextGrandAyatollahofIranisaRussianloyalist.Ivanovwillreallybecomethehyperpowerhealwaysclaimstobe.”
“Shit,”sighedBetsy.
“Shitisright,”saidWilliams.“IthinkouronlyhopeistoaskDunnifShahisthereand,ifso,appealtohimtogivehimupvoluntarily.Ifhedoes,great.Ifhedoesn’t,thenweatleasthaveproofwetried.”
“I’msorry,Mr.President,butareyoucrazy?Haveyouforgottenwhowe’redealingwith?ThatmightworkwithanyotherformerPresident,butanyotherformerPresidentwouldneverhaveBashirShahasahouseguest.Wecan’triskit.ToaskDunnistowarnShah.Ouronlyhopeissurprise.”
“Itdidn’tworkinBajaurlastnight.”
“No.”Thatwasnotonlytragic;itwasworrisome.Tosaytheleast.TheinsurgentsseemedtoknowtheRangerswerecoming.
“WhiteHouse,”Farhadhadsaid.HLI,PeteHamiltonhadwritten,almostcertainlyknowingwhatwasabouttohappentohim.
They’dbothdiedtryingtocommunicatethesamething.Traitor.
ThatpersonhadwarnedShahabouttheraid,who’dwarnedtheTaliban.Who’dkilledtheRangers.
Thissamepersonwouldknowaboutthebombs.ProbablyevenhadplantedoneintheWhiteHouse.Theyhadtofindoutwhoitwas.Andtodothat,Ellenhadtotakeachance.
“There’ssomethingIhaven’ttoldyou,Mr.President.”
“OhGod,don’ttellmeyoukidnappedIvanov.”
“No,though—”
“Whatisit?”
“BeforePeteHamiltonwaskilled,hesentBetsyamessage.Threeletters.HLI.”
Shewaited.Therewassilence.
“Thatactuallysoundsvaguelyfamiliar,”saidWilliams.“HLI.ButIcan’tplaceit.Whatdoesitmean?”
“High-levelinformant.”
“Ahhh,”helaughed.“That’sit.ItwasajokearoundCongressafewyearsago.Somejournalistwasaskingquestions.Allpartofavastright-wingconspiracy.”Hemadeitsoundludicrous.
“Yeah,hilarious.”
Therewassilenceagain.“Iguessit’snotthatfunnynow,”headmitted.
“Youthink?PeteHamiltondiedbecausehefoundoutaboutit.Thelastthinghedidwassendthatmessage.Andfortherecord,Idon’tthinkit’sjustaright-wingconspiracy.Ithinkitgoeswaybeyondthat.”
“SoyoubelievethereisanHLI?”
“Ido.”
“Thenwhydidn’tyoutellmethisbefore?”hedemanded.
“Icouldn’triskanyoneelsefindingout.Anyoneclosetoyou.”
“YoumeanmyChiefofStaff.”
“Yes.BarbStenhauser’sashigh-levelasitgets.Andthenthere’sherassistant,whowe’vediscoveredwastheyoungwomanwithHamiltonatthebar.She’snowmissing.Youhavetoadmit,it’sstrange.”
“WhatIhavetoadmitisthatanyonesmartenough,patientenough,toorganizeallthiswouldalsomakesuretohavescapegoats.Don’tyouthink?”
Ellenwassilent.
“Anddon’tyouthinkmyChiefofStaffmakesaprettyobvioustarget?Perhapstooobvious?”
“Youmightberight.TheonlywaytofindoutistotrackdownthisHLIsite,”saidEllen.“Getthename.AndthatmeansfindingAlexHuang.”
“Who?”
“Thecorrespondentwhowasaskingquestions.”
“Howdoyouknowhisname?”
“Becausehewasmycorrespondent.Hequitbeforegettingthewholestory.HesaidatthetimethatHLIamountedtonothing.Probablyjustsomethingmanufacturedbyconspiracytheorists.TheycouldmakeupanycrazythingandattributeittothemysteriousHLI.”
“Thatactuallysoundsaboutright.”
“InevergaveitanotherthoughtuntilPeteHamiltondiedgettingthatinformationtous.AndtheIranianinformantsaid‘WhiteHouse’justbeforehedied.Wecan’tignoreit.”
“Whereishe?”askedWilliams.“Thisjournalist?”
“Betsy’sfoundhim.He’schangedhisnameandishidingoutinavillageinQuébec.AplacecalledThreePines.Buthe’srefusingtotalk.Iwanttotrytogetsomeonetherewhocanconvincehim.Someonehetrusts.Ifwe’vefoundhim,Shahwon’tbefarbehind.”
“Andifhewon’ttelluswhatheknowsaboutHLI?”askedWilliams.“Dowekidnaphimtoo?Whynot?Mightaswellinvadeyetanothersovereigncountry,anotherally.I’msureCanadawon’tmind.”
Hecouldfeelhimselfgettinggiddyandpulledback.Hehadtokeephisheadifhewasgoingtocomeoutofthisdayalive,havingfoundthebombsanddisarmedthem.
“Look,”hesaid.“Shah’sourmaintarget,ourpriority.Ifwehavehim,therestismoot.ButtogethimIneedtoauthorizeablackop.Inbroaddaylight.Againstourownpeople.AgainstaformerPresident.Justsowe’reclear.That’sillegal.”
“Yeah,well,plantingnuclearbombsprobablyistoo,”saidBetsy.
“Doug,thechancesofyouormesurvivingthedayphysically,nevermindpolitically,areprettysmall,”saidEllen.“Aprisontermshouldbetheleastofourworries.IfShahknowswherethebombsare,andwehave”—shelookedattheclock,ironicallyanatomicclock,onherdeskinAirForceThree—“tenhourstofindanddisarmthem,thenmyvoteiswebreakeverylawgoingtodoit.Andletthechipsfallwheretheymay.”
“Thosechipsaregoingtocrushus,Ellen.”Hesoundednotjustexhaustedbutdrained.Andresigned.“I’llstartitrolling.Thishadbetterwork.Shahhadbetterbethere.”
AirForceThreewasjustapproachingAndrewsAirForceBaseasEricDunnapproachedthefirsttee.Andthecommandosapproachedthevilla.
PresidentDunn’steetimehadbeenmovedupdueto,thesecretaryoftheclubexplainedtoDunn’sannoyedassistant,anunexpectedcomputerglitch.
TheSpecialOperatorswatchedhimleavethecompound,thentookuptheirpositions.
Theycouldseethesecurityguards.Privatecontractorswithassaultriflesandfestoonedwithsomanybeltsofammunitiontheynotonlyclankedwhentheypatrolled;theycouldbarelymove.
Bycontrast,theDeltaForceoperatorsreliedonstealthandspeed.Theycarriedknives,guns,ropes,andtape.Thatwasit.
Anyrealcommandoknewthatpeopleweremoreimportantthanhardware.Thesuccessofamissionrestedmoreonthetrainingandcharacterofthesoldierthanontheirweapons.
Thefar-rightmilitiamembers,ontheotherhand,valuedanUziovermentalstability.
TheSecretServiceagentswhowouldnormallyguardaformerPresidenthadbeenmarginalizedbytheprivatesecurityforcebroughtinbyDunn.Andthatmorning,afteraquietwordfromHQ,theSecretServicehadretreatedevenfurtherintothebackground.
Ittooktheleaderoftheblackopsteamjustafewminutesofwatchingtheprivatecontractorstoworkouttheirroutine.
Whenhegavethesignal,hispeoplesurgedoverthewall,droppingcatliketotheotherside,thensilentlysprintedforthevilla.Scanshadidentifiedwherethepeoplewereinthehouse,andwhiletheycouldmakeaneducatedguessastowhichonewasShah,theycouldnotbecertain.
Theorderwasnocasualties.Noonegetshurt.Gettheguyandgetout.
Itwasanear-impossibletask,butthoseweretheonlyonesthesecommandostookon.
Whileonegroupsweptthroughtheupstairs,asecondtookthemainfloor,athirdthebasement,whiletwocreptintothebackgarden,whereamanwassittingonthepatio.
“Nothim,”hereportedandbackedawaybeforehecouldbeseen.Thenwentontohissecondarytarget.
“Nothim.”
“Nothim.”
“Nothim.”
Onebyonetheyreported,whilebackattheWhiteHouseandonAirForceThree,WilliamsandEllenandBetsywatchedthebodycams.Barelybreathing.IfShahwasn’tthere…
“Nothim,”thelastcommandoreported.
“He’snothere,”saidthesecond-in-command.
Therewassilenceforabeatbeforetheleaderspoke:“There’repeopleinthekitchen.”
“Allstaff,”saidanother.“Acook,adishwasher,andaserver.Confirmed.”
“Myscansshowfourpeople.Onemust’vebeeninthewalk-infridge.”Itwasmetal-lined,andpeopleinsidewouldn’tshowup.“Checkagain.”
TwoSpecialOperatorsransilentlydownthebackstairstothebasement,duckingintoasideroomandnarrowlymissinganaidereturningupstairswithherbreakfast.
Astheyapproachedthekitchen,therewastheunmistakablescentofcorianderandfryingbread.AndavoiceinsoftlyaccentedEnglish.
“This’scalledparatha,”themanatthestovewassayingasheproddedatriangleofbreadinthecast-ironpan.“Onceit’salmostdone,weaddtheeggmixture.”
DeltaForceenteredthekitchen.Thecookhadjustbeguntoregistertheintruders,andthemanhadjustbeguntoturntolook,whentapewasputoverhismouthandasackoverhishead.
“Gothim.”
Oneofthecommandosslunghimoverhisshoulder;thentheyturnedandran.Theyweregoneinseconds,vanishingbeforethecookordishwashercouldreact.
Theyracedupthestairs,thebodykickingandsquirmingandmoaning.Thecommandoswereguidedbytechsupporttellingthemwherethepeoplewere.
Duckingintoaroom,theywaiteduntilstaffandsecurityranpast,convergingonthekitchen,reactingtotheshouts.
TheDeltaswereinandoutofthereinminutes.
Twelveminuteslateracivilianhelicoptertookofffromaprivatefieldandheadednorth.
AirForceThreehadlanded,butEllenandBetsystayedonboardtowatchtheoperation.
“Please,dearGod,”saidEllenwhenthehelicoptertookoff,“letitbeShahandnotsomepoorcook.”
“Takehishoodoff,”PresidentWilliamsordered,andtheDeltacommanderdid.
StaringatthemwasthefaceofthewaiterfromthedinnerinIslamabad.
Staringatthemwasthefaceofanotoriousnuclearphysicist.
Staringatthemwasthemostdangerousarmsdealerintheworld.
Dr.BashirShah.
“Wegothim,”sighedEllen.“WecapturedtheAzhiDahaka.”
DownthelineshecouldhearDougWilliamslaughing,anedgeofhysteriainhisrelief.Thenthelaughingstopped.“Azhiwho?Itisn’tShah?”
“Oh,I’msorry.Yes,yes.It’sShah.Congratulations,Mr.President,youdidit.”
“Wedidit.Theydidit.”WilliamsspokeintotheearphonestotheDeltacommander.“Congratulations.OnedayIhopetobeabletotellyoujusthowimportantthisactionis.”
“You’rewelcome,Mr.President.”
Onhearingthat,Shah’seyeswidened.Hismouthwasstilltaped,buthiseyessaiditall.Hewasprettysureheknewwheretheyweretakinghim.
Andwhatwaswaitingthere,besidestheAmericanPresident.
DougWilliamsbowedhisheadandbroughthishandsuptohisface,feelingtherubofstubble.
Beforehewentintohisprivatebathroomtoshowerandshave,helookedup“AzhiDahaka.”Ittookhimafewtriestogetthespellingright,butthereitwas.
Athree-headeddragonofdestructionandterror,bornofliesandspawnedtowreakhavocontheworld.Aserpenttyrantwhoseappearanceusheredinchaos.
Yes.BashirShahwasallthat.
ButasDougWilliamssplashedwateronhisfaceandlookedathimselfinthemirror,hewonderedwhotheothertwoheadsbelongedto.
Ivanov,yes.Butwhowastheother?WhowastheHLI?
Itwasonlywhenhewasintheshower,thehotwaterflowingthroughhishair,overhisheadandface,downhisbody,itwasonlyashefelthimselfalmosthumanagainthatitcametohim.
WhatEllensaidaboutherjournalist.Theonewho,likesomanyothersbeforehim,fledtoCanadainhopesoffindingsafety.She’dmentionedsomevillageinQuébec.Itwasthesecondtimesomeonehadrecentlytalkedaboutsuchathing.
Ashetoweledhimselfoff,heremembered.Thosedreadfulmomentswaitingtobeincinerated.
TheGeneralsaidsomethingabouthisdog.Pine.
Threepines.ThreePines.
Hurryingoutofthebathroom,atowelaroundhiswaist,hecalledtheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaff,listened,thencalledhisSecretaryofState,whowasonherwaytoherownhomeforaquickshowerandchangeofclothesbeforeheadingtotheWhiteHouse.
“HaveyousentanyonetoQuébectotalktothejournalist?”heasked.
“Notyet.We’retryingtofindsomeonehetrusts.”
“Don’tbother,Ithinkwehavesomeone.”
Itwasnownineinthemorning.Iftheywereright,thenuclearbombswouldgooffatfourthatafternoon.
Sevenhours.Theyhadsevenhours.
ButtheyalsohadShah.Andnow,maybe,theyhadaleadonthethirdheadoftheAzhiDahaka.
“How’sPine?”
“Great.Thoughhisearsarekindabig,”saidtheGeneraloverthephone.
“Really?”ArmandGamachelookeddownatHenri,hisownGermanshepherd,who’dtripoverhisearsiftheyhungdown.Asitwas,theystoodstraightup.Thedoglookedconstantlyastonished.“I’vebeenhearingrumblingsoutofDC.Everythingallrightdownthere?”
“Well,asamatteroffact,that’swhyI’mcalling.YouknowafellownamedAlexHuang?”
“Sure.Notpersonally,butIusedtoreadhisreportsfromtheWhiteHouse.Heretired,didn’the?”
“Quit,yes.HenowlivesinThreePines.”
“Idon’tthinkso.Nooneherebythatname.”
“No,butyoudohaveanAlChen.AnAmerican.Arrivedtwo,threeyearsago?”
“Twoyearsago,yes.”Gamache’svoicehadgrownwary.“Areyoutellingmehe’sHuang?Whywouldhechangehisname?”
“That’swhyI’mcalling.Ineedyoutodosomething.”
Ellensteppedinsidetheshower.Finally.
Sheclosedhereyesandletthewarmwaterhitherfaceandcascadedownherexhaustedbody.Shefeltbruisedallover,eventhoughshehadnoinjuries.Nonevisible,anyway.Butsheknewshewouldneverfullyrecoverfromtheshock,thepain,theterrorofthepastfewdays.
Theinjurieswereinternal.Eternal.
Therewasnotimetothinkofthat.Therewasstilladistancetoberun.Thefinalsprint.
SheandBetsyhadstoppedinatherhomeforquickshowersandtochangeintoclean,freshclothes.Apitstop.Forher.ForBetsy?
Onceoutoftheshower,Ellensmelledfreshcoffeeandmaple-smokedbacon.
“You’remakingbreakfast?”sheaskedassheenteredthebrightandcheerykitchen.“Theworldisliterallyabouttoexplodeandyou’refryingbacon?”
“AndI’mwarmingupthosecinnamonbunsyoulike.”
Yes,nowshecouldsmellthataswell.
“Areyoutryingtotortureme?Ican’tstay.HavetogettotheWhiteHouse.”
“I’vemadethemtogo.Wecaneatanddrinkinthecar.”
“Betsy—”
Hercounselorstopped,thespatulainherhand,andlookedather.“No,don’tsayit.”
“You’renotcomingwithme.”
“LikehellI’mnot.We’vebeenbestfriendssincekindergarten.Yousavedmylifemorethanonce,supportingmeemotionally,financially.AfterPatrickdied…”Shetookabreath,agasp,teeteringontheedgeofthatbottomlesswound.“You’remybestfriend.Iwon’tbeleftbehind.”
“Ineedyouhere.ForKatherine.ForGil.Forthedogs.”
“Youdon’thaveanydogs.”
“No,butyou’llgetsome,won’tyou?If…”
Betsy’seyesbegantosting,andherbreathcameinjaggedgasps.“You.Can’t.Leave.Me.Behind.”
“Ineedyou,”saidEllen.Please,shebeggedherself.Sayit.Saythelastwords.“Withme.”Withme.Ineedyouwithme.“Here.Promisemeyou’lldoasIask.Please.Foronceinyourlife.I’llvideo-callyou.Butifyou’renothere,I’llhangup,sohelpmeGod.”
“I’llbehere.”
“I’llleaveanumberbythehallphone.Useitifyouneedto.”
Betsynodded.
Ellengrabbedher,hugginghertight.“Thepast,present,andfuturewalkintoabar…”
Betsygrippedherfriendandtriedtospeak,butnothingcameout.Ellenpulledback,kissedBetsyonthecheek,turned,andleft.
Asshewalkedquicklytothedoorandthewaitingvehicle,shepassedtheframedphotosofthechildren,ofthebirthdaysandThanksgivingsandChristmases.OfherweddingtoQuinn.
OfBetsyandheraskids.BetsyalldirtyandsnottyandEllenpristine.Twohalvesofasplendidwhole.
EllenAdamsleftherhomeandsteppedintothewaitingSUV.TotakehertotheWhiteHouse,wherethePresidentandanuclearbombwerewaiting.
“Itwastense,”Betsywhisperedasshewatchedthevehiclepullaway.Thensheslowly,slowlysanktoherknees.Ellen’sperfumehungsoftly,subtlyallaroundher,asthoughtheretokeephersafe.AromaticsElixir.
Shebentoversothatshewasastinyasshecouldget.Closinghereyes.Rocking.
BetsyJamesonwasn’tjustafraid;shewasinastateofterror.
ChiefInspectorGamache,theheadofhomicidefortheS?retéduQuébec,walkedintothebookstore.
“Stillhasn’tcomein,Armand,”saidMyrna.
“Whathasn’t?”
“TheCharlotte’sWebyouorderedforyourgranddaughter.Youlookdistracted.”
“Alittle.IsAlaround?”
“He’sshovelingsnowatRuth’s.”
“Shovelingherout,orin?”askedArmand,andMyrnalaughed.
“Outthistime.”
“Merci,”saidArmandandwalkedthroughthebrilliant,crystallinewinterday,overtoRuthZardo’ssmallhomejustoffthevillagegreen.Hesawpuffsofsnowrisingfrombehindthetalldrifts,andtheflashofashovelblade.
“Al?”
Theman,inhislateforties,hisfaceflushedfromexertionandcold,stoppedandleanedontheshovel.“Armand,what’sup?”
“Canwetalk?”
Alstaredathisneighbor.BythelookonGamache’sface,hecouldguesswhatthiswasabout.He’dbeencontactedafewhoursearlierbysomeonenamedBetsy,fromtheStateDepartment.He’drefusedtotalk.Hehadanewlife,heexplained.Agoodlife.Apeacefullife.
Finally.
Thoughnotaltogetherpeaceful.There’dbeenashadowoverit,everydayandeverynight.AlChenhadknownthisdaywouldcome,whentheshadowmovedoffandthecreatureitselfappeared.
Chengavealong,longexhale,hisbreathcomingoutinastreamofsteam.Thrustingtheshovelintothesnowbank,hesaid,“OK.Let’stalk.”
Thetwowalkedovertothebistro,theirfeetcrunchingonthepackedsnow.Theireyessquintingintothebrilliantsunthatwasbouncingoffthedeepdrifts.
Upahead,Gamachesawthebistro.Chensawtheendofhispeacefullife.
Onceinside,theyfoundseatsbythefireandorderedcafésaulait.
“Merci,”saidGamachewhenthedrinkshadarrived;thenheturnedtoAl,studyinghimforamoment.Whenhespoke,hisvoicewashushed.“Iknowwhoyouareandwhyyoucamehere.Itwastohide,wasn’tit?”
Aldidn’tspeak.SoGamachewenton.
“AndIknowwhyyoustayhere.”Helookedatthedoorthatconnectedthroughtothebookstore.HeleanedclosetoChenanddroppedhisvoicestillfurther.“Ifhefindsyou,he’llbringallmannerofhellhere.Notjusttoyou,buttoMyrnaandanyoneelsehewants.”
“Idon’tknowwhoyou’retalkingabout,Armand.Who’s‘he’?”
“Thepersonyou’rehidingfrom.Doyouwantmetoactuallysayit?Look,ifwefoundyou,sowillhe.Idon’tknowhowmuchtimewehave,butIsuspectit’snotmuch.”
“Ican’tgoback,Armand.Ijustbarelygotout.”Hishandsweretrembling,andArmandrememberedthemanwho’darrivedtwoyearsearlier.
Shakinganytimetherewasaloudnoise.Unabletogointoacrowdedroom.Tremblingwhenanyonelookedhisway,nevermindspoketohim.ItwasalltheycoulddotocoaxhimoutofhisroomatOlivierandGabri’sB&B.FinallyitwasMyrna,withherwarmmelodicvoiceandchocolatecake,whodidit.
Suspectinghelikedbooks,she’dinvitedhimovertoherstoreonesummerevening,afterithadclosed.Everythreedaysafterthat,she’dopenthedoorandlethimbrowse,privately.Heboughtallsortsofbooks,sometimesnew,oftenused.
Thenshe’dcoaxhimontothepatiooutback,wherethey’dsipbeerandwatchtherivièreBellaBellaflowby.They’dtalk.Ornot.
Thenshegothimontothefrontpatio.Wherehecouldseevillagelife,slowbutneverstagnant,flowby.
LittlebylittleAlChenhademerged.
Andnowhewasfullyapartofthecommunity.Thoughnotfullyhonestwiththem.
“DoesMyrnaknowwhoyoureallyare?”
“No.SheknowsIhaveapastIdon’twanttodiscuss,butnotwhoIam.”
“Iwon’ttellher.Butyouneedtogoback.Youneedtotellthemwhatyouknowaboutthatwebsite.HLI.”
Alshookhishead.“Iwon’t.Ican’t.”
“Look,”Gamachesaid.“TheyhaveBashirShah.He’sonhiswaytoDCnow,incustody.Buttheyneedtoknowwhothehigh-levelinformantis.Youcanseethat,right?”
“TheyhaveShah?Forreal?You’renotjustsayingthat?”
“Theyhavehim.Butyouknowhowdangerousheis.Whatheandhispeoplearecapableof.PresidentWilliamsneedstoknowShah’sinformantintheWhiteHouse.”
Armandhadn’tbeentoldaboutthebombs,didn’thavetobe.HeknewaboutthebusbombsinEurope,ofcourse.Andhe’dheardthechatteraboutotherexplosives.Morepowerfulones.Somewhere.
“Ifyoucan’tgoback,thentellme.Who’sthehigh-levelinformant?Whoishe?”
Insteadofyelling,Gamache’svoicehadsoftened.Fromvastexperience,heknewthatpeoplenaturallyputuptheirdefenseswhenyelledat.Butifspokentogently,they,likeafrightenedwoundedanimal,mightjustcometohim.
AlChenshookhishead,butthistimeitwasdifferent.Hewasn’trefusingtotalk,Gamachecouldsee.Hewasdisagreeingwithhim.
“Notahe.”
“She?”
“Them.That’swhatIfoundout.HLIisn’tasingleperson.Oritmightbe,someone’sobviouslydirectingit,butwhatIfoundoutisthatHLIisagroup.Anorganization.”
“What’sitspurpose?”
“ToreturnAmericatowhattheythinkitshouldbe.FromwhatIcouldtell,it’smadeupofpowerfulpeoplewhoaredisaffected.”
“With?”
“Withgovernment.Withthedirectionofthecountry.Withchangesintheculture.HavingwhattheyseeasrealAmericanvalueserodedanddisappearing.Thesearen’tjustdecentconservativepeoplewhomissthewayitoncewasandwantitback.Theseareultra-rightextremists.Fascists.Whitesupremacists,militias.TheyfeeltheUnitedStatesisnolongerAmerica,sotheydon’tfeelthey’rebeingdisloyal.Justtheopposite.Theymeantorighttheship.”
“Bysinkingit?”
“Bypurgingit.Theyfeelit’stheirpatrioticduty.”
“Membersofthemilitary?”
Chennodded.“High-ranking.Respected.MembersofCongresstoo.TheSenate.”
“MonDieu,”whisperedGamache,leaningawayforamomentandstaringintothefire.
“Who?Weneednames.”
“IwishIknew.I’dtellyou,butIdon’t.”
“SupportersoftheformerPresident?”
“Onthesurface,butonlythat.Thesearepeoplewhohatethegovernment.Evenhis.”
“Butsomearemembers,politiciansthemselves.”
“Ifyouweregoingtobringdownahugesystem,wouldn’tyoustarttherotfromtheinside?”
Gamachenodded.“HLIisasiteonthedarkweb,right?Wherethesepeopleshareinformation.”
“Beyondthedarkweb.”
Gamacheraisedhisbrows.“Ididn’tknowtherewassuchathing.”
“Thewebisliketheuniverse.Itneverends.Thereareallsortsofwonders,andallsortsofblackholes.That’swhereIfoundHLI.”
“Ineedtheaddress.”
“Idon’thaveit.”
“Idon’tbelieveyou.”
Theystaredateachother.GamachecouldseefearandangerinAlChen’seyes.AndChencouldseeirritation,impatienceinGamache’s.Buthecouldseesomethingelse.
Deepinsidethoseeyes,therewassympathy.Andtherewasunderstanding.Thismanknewfear.
AlChentookadeepbreath,glancedtowardthebookstorewhereMyrnawassortingthevolumesthathadcomein,anddidsomethingGamachehadnotexpected.
Heunbuttonedhisshirt.
There,abovehisheart,wasscartissue.“ItoldMyrnait’sashorthandmymotherused,forherfavoritequote.”
“Andshebelievedyou?”
“I’mnotsure.Sheaccepted.”
“Whatisitreally?”
“TheaddressofHLI.”
Gamachetiltedhisheadandlookedatthescartissue,thenintoChen’seyes.“It’snotlikeanythingI’veseenbefore.”
“Thencountyourselffortunate.Thiswilltakeyoutotheblackhole.Butitwon’tgetyouin.Youneedanentrycodeforthat.”
“Andthatis?”
Chenshookhishead.“Inevergotit.This’sasfarasIgotbeforetheysenttheirpeopleafterme.AndIcamehere.”
Helookedoutthemullionedwindows,etchedwithfrost,tothethreepinetreessoaringoverthevillage,pointinguptotheheavens.
“Weneedtheentrycode,”saidGamache.“Doyouhaveanyideawhohasit?”
“Well,obviouslyanymemberofHLI.AndprobablyBashirShah.”
“Doyoumind?”Gamachehelduphisphone,andwhenChenshookhishead,hetookaphotooftheshortstringofnumbersandlettersandsymbols.
Notobviouslyawebaddress.Atleastnottoanynormalsite.Notinthisworld,anyway.
“Whodidthattoyou?”
“Idid.Drunkandhighonenight.”
“Why?”
“Ithinkyouknowwhy,Armand.”
Alrebuttonedhisshirt,andtogethertheyleftthebistro.Thoughbundledinaheavyparka,AlexHuangstillfeltthebitingcold.Noamountofinsultationcouldwarmhim.Thecoldcamefromwithin.Butmaybenowhecouldfeelwarmagain,fullyhumanagain.
BeforetheypartedArmandthankedhimandasked,“Didyourmotherreallyhaveafavoritequote?”
“Yes.Itwas‘Nolitimere.’”
Armandputouthishand.“Nolitimere.”
WhileHuangwentbacktodiggingouttheungratefulpoet,Armandwenthometosendthephototohisfriend.TheChairoftheAmericanJointChiefsofStaff.Aphotonotjustofawebaddress,butofaman’sself-loathing.Cutintohisfleshasanaccusation,adailyreminderofcowardice.
Nolitimere,Armandthoughtashehitsend.Benotafraid.
Now,maybe,AlChen,AlexHuang,couldseethescarsassomethingelse.Ahallelujah,ablessing.Thathe’dputthedreadfullettersandnumbersandsymbolsoverhisheart,wherehe’dneverlosethem.Andthatherantothisvillage,whereheactuallydidlosehisheart.
Armandlookedoutatthesplendiddayandwhispered,“Benotafraid.Benotafraid.”
Buthewas.
CHAPTER42
Thiswastheendgame.
Everyoneinthatroomknewit.
Itwas2:57intheafternoon,DCtime.1457.Theyhaduntil1600,anhourandthreeminutestofindanddisarmthebombs.They’dcomealongwaysincethatfirstcodedmessagehadarrivedatAnahitaDahir’sstationintheStateDepartment,aneternityago.
Buthadtheycomefarenough?
Teamswerestandingbyineachmajorcity.Everyintelligenceorganization,internationally,wasporingovercommunicationinterceptsfromAl-Qaedaanditsalliesandhadbeensincethisbegan.Butsofar,nothing.
Theironlyrealhopewasthemiddle-agedPakistaniscientistsittinginthehard-backedchairintheOvalOffice,glaringacrosstheResolutedeskatthePresidentoftheUnitedStates.
“Telluswherethebombsare,Dr.Shah,”saidWilliams.
“WhyshouldI?”
“Youdon’tdenyit,then?”
Shahcockedhishead,amused.“Denyit?IspentyearsunderhousearrestbecauseofyouAmericans,thinkingaboutthismoment.Dreamingofit.WatchingwhatwashappeninghereintheStates.Watchingyoumakeaballs-upofdemocracy.Veryentertaining.Bestrealityshowever,thoughit’snotactuallyreality,isit?Mostofpolitics,ofso-calleddemocracy,isanillusion,stagedforthegreatunwashed.”
“Areyousayingthebombsaren’treal?”saidEllen.
“Oh,no.They’rereal.”
“Thenunlessyouwanttogouptoo,you’lltelluswheretheyare.Wehave”—shelookedattheclock—“fifty-nineminutes.”
“SoyouworkedoutthecodeIslippedintoyourpocket.Yes,fifty-nine.Ah,fifty-eightminutes,andthenallthisgoesaway.Givenachoicebetweenbedlamandadictatorship,whatdoyouthinktheAmericanpeoplewillchoose?Drivenbyfearofanotherattack,inastateofterror,they’lldotheterrorists’workforthem.They’lldestroytheirownfreedoms.Accept,evenapplaud,thesuspensionofrights.Internmentcamps.Torture.Expulsions.Theliberalagenda,women’sequality,gaymarriage,immigrants,willbeblamedforthedeathoftherealAmerica.Butthankstotheboldactionofapatrioticfew,thewhiteAnglo-SaxonChristian,God-fearingAmericaoftheirgrandparentswillberestored.Andiftheyhavetoslaughterafewthousandtoachieveit,well,itiswar,afterall.ThebeaconthatwasAmericawilldie,bysuicide.Franklyitwascoughingupbloodanyway.”
“Wherearethey!”shoutedPresidentWilliams.
“I’veseenalotofcoups,thoughneverquitethisclose.”Shahleanedforward.“Theyallhaveonethingincommon.Youwanttoknowwhatthatis?”
WilliamsandEllenglaredathim.
“I’lltellyou.They’reallso…sudden.Atleast,tothepersonbeingcoup’d.Allthoseabouttobetoppled,andperhapsevenshotorhanged,looklikeyoudo,Mr.President.Shocked.Appalled.Perplexed.Frightened.Howcouldthishappen?Butifyou’dbeenpayingattention,you’dhaveseenthetideturning.Thewaterrising.Theuprising.This’sasmuchyourfaultasanyone’s.”
Shahsatback,crossedhislegs,andbrushedaninvisiblepieceoflintoffhisknee.ButEllennotedaslightquiverinhishand.Aquiverthathadnotbeentherewhenthewaiterhadgivenherhersalad.
Thiswasnew.
Thismanwasafraidafterall.Butofwhat?Ofdying,orsomethingelse?WhatwouldanAzhiDahakafear?Onlyonething.
Abiggermonster.
Andjudgingbythetremble,onemustbeclose.
“Whileyouwerelookingoutward,scanningthehorizonforthreats,”hecontinued,“youmissedwhatwashappeninginyourownbackyard.Whatwastakingrootrighthere,onAmericansoil.Inyourtowns,yourshops,inyourheartland.Amongyourfriends,inyourfamilies.Thesensibleconservativesmovingtotheright.Therightmovingfarright.Thefarrightbecomingalt-right.Becoming,intheirrageandfrustration,radicalizedthankstoaninternetfilledwithcrazytheories,false‘facts,’andsmugpoliticiansallowedtospewlies.
“Isawfromadistancewhatyoucouldnotseecloseup.Theunhappinessheregrowingintooutrage.Theso-calledpatriotshadtherage,theintent,thefinancialbacking.Theyhadthefuse,alltheyweremissingwastheonethingIcouldprovide.”
“Abomb,”saidWilliams.
“Anuclearbomb,”saidEllen.
“Justso.AllIneededwastobereleased,andyourusefulidiotofaPresidentprovidedthat.Icouldthenputthetwohalvestogether.”Heliftedhishands.“InternationalterroristsinAl-Qaedaanddomesticpatriots.”Heplacedhishandstogether.“Andvoilà.Yes,Ihadyearstothinkaboutthismoment.Timeandpatience,timeandpatience.Tolstoysaidthosearethestrongestofwarriors,andhewasright.Sofewhaveboth.Ido.True,I’dassumedI’dbewatchingthisfrommyhomeinIslamabad,butnowIgetafront-rowseat.”
“You’reactuallyonthestage,”saidEllen.
Heturnedtoher.“Asareyou.I’minalucrativebutdangerousprofession.Ihavenoillusionsaboutthat.I’veconsideredthedifferentwaysImightdie,andhonestly,quicklyinaflashoflightisprobablythebest.I’mready.Areyou?”HeturnedbacktothePresident.“Besides,ifIdidtellyou,myclientswouldmakesuremydeathwasalotlessquickandalotlesslight-filled.”
“That’sprobablytrue,”saidWilliams.“You’refortunateyou’reinourcustodyandtheycan’tgetatyou.UnlesstherehappenstobeanHLIinthehousehold.”
ThatrattledthephysicistforjustamomentbutlongenoughforEllentorealizewhoBashirShahwasafraidof.Whothebiggermonsterwas.Thehigh-levelinformant.
“HLI?”Shahsaid.“Ihavenoideawhatyou’retalkingabout.”
“That’sashame,”saidWilliams.“Notforyou,ofcourse.Butmaybeforothers.”
ThesmilefrozeonShah’sface.“Whatdoyoumean?”
Fifty-twominutesleft.
“Well,”saidWilliams,“you’veleftatrailofbodiesbehindyou,sometoclearuplooseendsandsometoactasawarningtoothers.Isuspectyourfriendswilldothesamethingwhentheyfindoutwehaveyou.Now,whomightAl-Qaeda,whomighttheRussianmob,goafterasanobjectlessonnottobetraythem?”
EllenbentdownandspokeintoDr.Shah’sear.Shecouldsmelljasmineandsweat.“I’llgiveyouahint.Whodidyougoafterwhenmynewsagenciesstartedreportingonyourblackmarketarmssales?Whopoisonedmyhusband?Whoterrorizedmychildren?Whotriedtokillmysonanddaughterjustyesterday?”
“Myfamily?You’dhurtmyfamily?”
Shestoodup.“No,Dr.Shah,that’soneofmanydifferences.Wewouldnotharmyourfamily.”
Heexhaled.
“Unfortunately,allouragentsandoperativesinPakistanandbeyondarebusytryingtotrackdowninformationonthebombs,asareourallies.Andsowhileweabsolutelywillnotharmyourfamily,neithercanweprotectthem.WhoknowswhatAl-Qaedahasbeentoldaboutwhyyou’reattheWhiteHouse?WhoknowswhatIvanovandtheRussianmafiathink?”
“It’sevenpossible,”saidPresidentWilliams,“therearerumorsthatyou’recooperating.Thatyou’reanAmericanasset.Democracy.Freespeech.Itisentertaining,isn’tit?”
“TheyknowI’dneverbetraythem.”
“Areyousosure?WhenIwasinTehran,theGrandAyatollahtoldmeaPersianfableaboutthecatandtherat.Doyouknowit?”
Shahnodded.
“Butthere’sanotheroneyoumightbeinterestedin.Thefrogandthescorpion.”
“I’mnot.”
“Thescorpionwantstocrossariver,buthedoesn’tswim.Heneedshelp.Soheasksafrogtotakehimacrossonhisback,”saidEllen.“Thefrogsays,‘ButifIdo,you’llstingmeandI’lldie.’Thescorpionscoffs.‘Ipromisenottostingyoubecausewe’dbothdrown.’Sothefrogagreesandthetwosetoffacrosstheriver.”
Shah’sfacewasturnedaway,buthewaslistening.
“Halfwayacross,thescorpionstingsthefrog,”saidEllen.“Withhislastbreath,thefrogasks,‘Why?’”
“Andthescorpionanswers,‘Ican’thelpit,’”saidPresidentWilliams.“‘It’sinmynature.’”Heleanedacrossthedesk.“Weknowwhoyouare.Weknowyournature.Asdoyourso-calledallies.Theyknowyou’llbetraytheminaninstant.Telluswherethebombsare,andwe’llprotectyourfamily.”
BarbStenhauserenteredtheOvalOfficeatthatmomentandcrossedtoPresidentWilliams.
“TimBeecham’sback,he’swaitingintheouteroffice.ShouldIshowhimin?”
“Pleasedo,Barb.”
“AndPresidentDunn’sonthephone.Hesoundsangry.”
Williamslookedatthetime.Fiftyminutesleft.
“Tellhimtocallbackinanhour.”
KatherineAdams,GilBahar,AnahitaDahir,andCharlesBoyntonsatinsilencearoundthericketytable.Thesolelightintheroomwasoffinthecornersothattheirfacesweremostlyinshadow.
Whichwasjustaswell.Theycouldsenseeachother’sincreasingterror.Noneedtoalsoseeit.
Boyntontouchedhisphone,andthetimelitup.TenminutespastmidnightinPakistan.FiftyminutestothetimewhenOsamabinLadenwaskilled.
Fiftyminutestowhenhundreds,perhapsthousands,wouldbekilled.IncludingKatherineandGil’smother.
Andtherewasnothingtheycoulddo.
BashirShahlookedtowardthedoorasTimBeechamwalkedin.
ThePresident’sDNIstoppedinhistracksandstaredatthemansittinguprightinthechair.Beechamlookedunwell.Thoughthebruisingaroundhiseyesandthesplintonhisnosedidn’thelp.
“Yougothim?”
ButnoonewaspayingattentiontotheDNI.AlleyeswereonShah.
“Wherearethebombs?”thePresidentrepeated.
“AllIcantellyouisthatthey’reinDC,NewYork,andKansasCity.Protectmyfamily.Please.”
“Whereinthosecities?”demandedWilliamsasEllenpickedupthephoneandmadethecalls.
“Idon’tknow.”
“Ofcourseyoudo,”saidBeecham,quicklypickinguponthesituationandstridingacrossthefloortowhereShahsat.“Youmust’vearrangeddelivery.”
“Butonlytoagentsineachcity.”
“Theirnames!”
“Idon’tknow.HowcanIremember?”
“Theshipmentsweren’tlabeledNuclearBombs,”saidBeecham.“Whatweretheysupposedtobe?”
“Medicalequipment,forradiologylabs.”
“Shit,”saidBeecham,reachingforanotherlineout.“Ifradiationisdetected,it’sexplainable.Whendidtheyship?”
“Afewweeksago.”
“Adate,”Beechamshouted.“Ineedadate.”Hespokeintothephone.“It’sBeecham.GetmeHomelandSecurity.Ineedinternationalshipmentstraced.Now!”
“February4th.ByshipviaKarachi.”
Beechamrelayedtheinformation.
Ellen,offthephonenow,waslistening.Somethingwaswrong.“He’slying.”
Beechamturnedtoher.“Whydoyousaythat?”
“Becausehe’svolunteeringinformation.”
“Tosavehisfamily,”saidPresidentWilliams.
Ellenshookherhead.“No.Thinkaboutit.Hisfamilymustbesafe.Hesaidhimself,he’shadyearstoplanthis.Hewouldn’tleavethem,orhimself,vulnerablelikethat.Hedoesn’ttrustAl-QaedaandtheRussianmafiaanymorethantheytrusthim.He’smessingwithus.”
“Why?”demandedBeecham.
“Whydoyouthink?WhydoesShahdoanything?He’lltakeittothewire,won’tyou?Thendemandsomethingextraordinaryfortheinformationweneed.Butonlyaboutthebombyou’resittingon.You’lllettheothersexplode.Yousetthiswholethingup.EvengoingtoDunn’s.AnysensiblepersonwouldhideoutinsomeremotechateauintheAlpsuntilthisblowsover—”
“Don’tyoumean‘blowsup’?”saidShah.Nolongerlookinganxious,afraid.Nowhewasshakinghishead,smiling.
“Youmeanhewantedtobebroughthere?”saidBeecham.
“Youareabrightone,”ShahsaidtoEllen,thenlookedatTimBeecham.“You,notsomuch.”ShahturnedbacktoEllen.“Iprobablyshouldhavepoisonedyoutoo,butI’veenjoyedourlittlerelationship.”
BarbStenhauserappearedatthedoor.“TheGeneral’shere,withsecurity.Didyouwant—”
“Sendhimin,”saidPresidentWilliams.“Andcomeinyourself.”
Ellenbroughtoutherphoneandpressedthevideocallbutton.
Thirty-sixminutesleft.
Thiswasit.
Betsypickeduponthefirstring.
Shecouldhearvoices,couldseetheOvalOffice.ButnotEllen.Shewasobviouslyholdingherphoneinfrontofher.Betsywasabouttospeak,thenchangedhermind.
TherewasareasonEllenhadn’tsaidanything.BesttoremainquietuntilEllendidspeak.
WhatBetsydiddowashitrecord.Thecameraswungaroundtothedoor,andBetsy’seyeswidenedinsurprise.
TimBeecham’seyeswidenedinsurprise.
BashirShah’seyeswidenedinsurprise.
GeneralWhitehead’sfacewasbruised;hisuniformwasstainedwithbloodfromthefightwithTimBeecham.TwoArmyRangersstoodoneithersideofhim.
“Gladyoucouldjoinus,General,”saidWilliams,andturnedtotheothers.“IthinkyouknowtheChairmanoftheJointChiefs.”
“Former,”saidBeecham.
“Someonehereis‘former,’”saidWhitehead.“Butit’snotme.”
HenoddedtotheofficerswhowalkedforwardtotakeuppositionsoneithersideoftheformerDirectorofNationalIntelligence.
CHAPTER43
“Whatisthis?”demandedBeecham.
“Anythingyet,Bert?”askedPresidentWilliams,ignoringBeecham.
“Stillwaiting.”
“Waiting?”Beechamlookedfromonemantotheother.“Forwhat?”
Thirty-fourminutes.
EllenwalkeduptoBeecham.“Tellus.”
“What?”
“Wherearethebombs,Tim?”
“What?YouthinkIknow?”Helookedstunnedandafraid.“Mr.President,youcan’tthink—”
“Wedon’tthink,weknow.”WilliamsglaredatBeecham.“You’rethehigh-levelinformant.Thetraitor.Theonenotjustleakinginformation,butactivelyworkingwithourenemies,withterrorists,tosetoffnuclearbombs.It’sover.I’vewrittenastatementtobesenttoCongressandthemediaat1601today,namingyouasthetraitor.Evenifyousomehowsurvive,you’llbehunteddown.You’vefailed.Telluswheretheyare.”
“No,God,no.It’snotme.It’shim.”HegesturedtowardWhite-head.
Thirty-threeminutes.
WilliamscamearoundthedeskandmadestraightforhisDNI.HeputhishandaroundBeecham’sthroatandthrusthimallthewaybackacrosstheOvalOfficeuntilBeecham’sbackpoundedintothewall.
Noonetriedtostophim.
“Where’rethebombs?”
“Idon’tknow,”hesputtered.
“Where’syourfamily?”demandedEllen,stridingacrosstheroomtostandrightbesidethePresident.
“Myfamily?”Beechamcroaked.
“I’lltellyou.They’reinUtah.Youtookyourchildrenoutofschoolandsentthemfarawayfromanyfallout.YouknowwhereGeneralWhitehead’sfamilyis?Ido.Imetthem.Hiswife,daughter,grandsonarehereinDC.What’sthefirstthinganyonedoesifthere’sdanger?Theygettheirfamilytosafety.EvenShahdid.Andsodidyou.Thenyougotyourselfout.ButBertWhiteheadstayed.Asdidhisfamily.Becausetheyhadnoideawhatwasabouttohappen.That’swhenIbegantorealizewhotherealtraitorwas.”
“Tellus!”Williamsdemanded,andhadtowillhimselfnottosqueezethelifeoutofBeecham.
Thirtyminutes.
“Wehaveit,”calledWhitehead.“Itjustcamein.I’mforwardingittoyou,Mr.President.”
WilliamsletgoandTimBeechamslidtothefloor,clutchinghisthroat.
ThePresidentrantohisdeskand,notbotheringtoreadthetext,heclickedonthephotograph,thengrimaced.“Isthathumanskin?Whatisthis?”
“Accordingtomyfriend,it’stheinternetaddressoftheHLIsite.”
“Cutintosomeone’sskin?”demandedWilliams.
“Notsomeone’s,”saidEllen.“It’sAlexHuang.”
“Huang?”saidBarbStenhauser.Upuntilthatmomentshe’dbeenhangingback,bythedoor.Nowshesteppedforwardtolookatthemonitor.“TheWhiteHousecorrespondent?Wasn’theoneofyours?Hequitafewyearsago.”
“Hewentintohiding,”saidEllen,glaringatShah,whowaswatchingthisasthoughitwasaplay.“He’dbeeninvestigatingrumorsofsomethingcalledtheHLI.Hethoughtitwasjustanotherfringeconspiracytheorysiteforthefarright,butthenhedugdeeper.PeteHamiltonfoundouttoo.ButPetedidn’tgetaway.”
“Whatdidtheyfindout?”askedPresidentWilliams.
“Myfriendin—”ButWhiteheadmanagedtostopbeforegivingawayHuang’slocation.
EllenlookedatShah,who’dleanedslightlyforward.
“HuangsaysHLIisn’toneperson,”theGeneralcontinued.“It’sagroup,anorganization.Allhighlyplacedindifferentbranchesofgovernment.Including,Godhelpme,themilitary.”Heshookhishead,thencontinued.“There’reelectedofficials.Senators,membersofCongress,andatleastoneSupremeCourtJustice.”
“MyGod,”whisperedWilliams.
“Thereitis,”saidShah.“Thecoupface.”
“Youfuckingass—”beganWilliams,butstoppedhimself.
Twenty-eightminutesleft.
ThePresidentturnedbacktothephotographonhisscreen.“What’rewesupposedtodowiththis?It’sgibberish.Justaseriesofnumbers,letters,andsymbols.”
Ellenbentcloser,makingsureherphonefacedthescreen.Hewasright.Itwasunlikeanyinternetaddressshe’deverseen.
“Theaddressapparentlytakesmemberstoaplacebeyondthedarkweb,”saidWhitehead.
“That’sbullshit,”croakedBeecham,stillonthefloorandholdinghisthroat.“Thereisnosuchplace.”
“Let’sjustsee.”Williamsputthemintohislaptopandhitenter.
Nothinghappened.
Thecomputerwasthinking,thinking.Thinking.
Twenty-sixminutes.
Comeon.Comeon,thoughtEllen.PrayedEllen.
BetsysatatEllen’skitchentable,inthepoolofsunshinestreamingthroughthewindows,andwatched.
Comeon.Comeon,sheprayed.
IntheOvalOffice,PresidentWilliamsstaredatthescreen.Atthethinbluelinepulsingforward,retreating.Pulsing.Retreating.
Comeon,heprayed.
“Itisn’tworking,”saidStenhauser,panicinhervoice.“Weneedtoleave.”Shesteppedclosertothedoor.
“Staywhereyouare,Barb,”commandedthePresident.
“It’stwenty-fivetofour.”
“You’restaying.We’reallstaying,”hesaid.
GeneralWhiteheadnoddedtooneoftheRangers,whotookuppositionatthedoor
Comeon.Comeon.
Justthenthecomputerstoppedthinking.Itwenttoblack.
Nooneblinked.Noonebreathed.Andthenadoorappearedonthescreen.
PresidentWilliamstookadeepbreathandwhispered,“Oh,thankGod.”
Hepushedthecursortothecenterofthedoorandpreparedtoclick.
“Wait,”saidEllen.“Howdoweknowit’snotatrap?Howdoweknowclickingonitwon’tsetoffthebombs?”
Helookedatthetime.“It’stwenty-twominutestofour,Ellen.Atthispoint,doesitmatter?”
Shetookadeepbreathandgaveacurtnod,asdidGeneralWhitehead.
“Noooo,”whisperedBetsy.“Don’tdoit.”
Williamsclickedonit.
Nothing.
Hetriedagain.Nothing.
“Isthereaknocker?Adoorbell?”askedEllen.Itsoundedludicrous,butnoonelaughed.
“No,”saidWilliams.Nowhewasmovingthecursoraroundandclickingatrandom.“Shit,shit,shit.”
Twentyminutesleft.
WhiteheadpickeduphisphoneandlookedagainatthemessagefromGamacheinQuébec.
“Damn,Ididn’treadthewholeemail.Tooanxioustogetthephotograph.HesaysHuangtoldhimweneedacodetogetin.”
“What?!”demandedWilliams.“Doeshesaywhatitis?”
“No.Huangcouldn’tfinditandstoppedtryingwhenherealizedtheywereafterhim.”
Eighteenminutes.
TheylookedatBeecham.
“Whatisit?What’sthecode?”Whiteheadstrodeoverandliftedhimoffthefloorbyhislapels,poundinghisbacksohardagainstthewall,theportraitofLincolntilted.“Tellus!”
“Idon’tknow.ForGod’ssake,Idon’tknow.Askhim!”BeechamwavedtowardShah,whowassmiling.
“Timeandpatience.I’menjoyingmyself.WhywouldItellyou?”
“Butyouknowit?”demandedEllen.
“Maybe.Maybenot.”
“What’rewesupposedtodo?”Williamsdemanded.“Whatcoulditbe?”
EllenwasstaringatShah.Hereyesdrillingintohimuntilheshiftedslightly.
“Al-Qaeda,”shesaid.
“Youwantmetotry‘Al-Qaeda’?”askedWilliams,andbeforeEllencouldsayno,hedid.
Nothing.
“WhatImean,”saidEllen,“isthatAl-Qaedachosetodayforthebombsforareason.TomarkOsamabinLaden’sbirthanddeath.Symbolic.Andweallknowsymbolsarepowerful.Three,ten,sixteenhundred.Thesepeople”—shewavedtowardBeecham—“thinkofthemselvesaspatriots.TrueAmericans.Whatwouldtheyuseasacode?”
“IndependenceDay?”suggestedWilliams.“Butthewords?Thenumbers?”
“Tryboth,”saidEllen.
“Butwemightonlygetoneortwotries,”saidWhitehead.
Williamsliftedhishandsinexasperation.ThenwroteIndependenceDayandhitenter.
Nothing.
Hetriedcaps,nocaps,thenumbers.Aspace.
“Shit,shit,shit.”
Fifteenminutes.
“Wait,”saidEllen.SheturnedtoShah.“I’mwrong.”Shestaredathimforonebeat.Two.Timeandpatience.Threebeats.
Allsound,allmotion,stoppedasshestaredattheAzhiDahaka,andhestaredback.
“Trythree,ten,sixteenhundred.”
PresidentWilliamsdid.
Nothing.
Ellen’sbrowsdrewtogether.Whatcoulditbe?Shewassure,whenshe’dgiventhosenumbers,she’dseenShah’seyeswiden.
“Trythree,space,ten,space,thensixteenhundred.”
AssoonasWilliamshitenter,therewasasound.Acreaking.Andthedoorslowly,veryslowly,openedtorevealthreescreens,eachshowingabomb.
“OhmyGod,”saidthePresidentoftheUnitedStates,astheyallstared.
“Youfool.Yougaveittothem.”
EveryonelookedatShah,thenatthepersonwho’dspoken.
GeneralBertWhiteheadwaspressingaguntothePresident’shead.
CHAPTER44
BetsyJamesoncouldn’tseetheOvalOffice,butsheknewsomethingterriblehadjusthappened.
Whatshecouldseewasthelaptopscreen.
Ellenwasholdingherphoneabsolutelyrocksteady,pointingattheopeneddoorandwhatitrevealed.
“Youfucker,”raspedPresidentWilliamsashewashauledbackwardoutofhischair.Thehandgunathistemple.
TheArmyRangersstartedforward.
“Everyonebackaway,”commandedWhitehead.
“That’swhyyousatwithmethismorning,”saidWilliams.“Youknewthebombwasn’tgoingtoexplodeattenpastthree.”
“OfcourseIknew.Beecham,gettheirguns.”HeindicatedtheArmyRangers,wholookedmoreshockedthananyone.“Stenhauser,theyhavezipcuffs.Cuffthemtothelegsofthedesk.”
“Me?”saidStenhauser.
“ForGod’ssake,youthinkIdon’tknowwhoyouare?Irecruitedyou,andyourecruitedyourassistant.Whereisshe,bytheway?I’massumingshe’stheonewhokilledHamilton.Ihopeyoulookedafterhertoo.”
TimBeechamhaddisarmedtheRangersandofferedoneofthegunstoStenhauser.Shelookedatit,clearlyknowingwhatacceptingitwouldmean.
“Oh,whatthefuck,”shesaid,andtookit.ThensheslowlyturneduntiltheweaponwaspointingattheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaff.“Whoareyou?”
TheGeneralgaveasnortofderision.“WhodoyouthinkIam?”
ShelookedatShah.“Doyouknowhim?”
Shahwaswatchingthisandshakinghishead.“No.Butthen,Idon’tknowyoueither.Identitieswerecloselyguarded.Butthefactthathe’sholdingaguntothePresident’stempleisaclue,don’tyouthink?”
BertWhiteheadsmiled.“YouwanttoknowwhoIam?I’matrueAmerican.Apatriot.I’mHLI.”
ThethirdheadoftheAzhiDahakawastheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaffafterall.
Themilitarycoupwasunderway.
Betsy’seyeswidened.Atwhatwasbeingsaid,butmostlyattheimagesonthelaptop.
Theopendoorhadrevealedthelocationsofthebombs.
Ononesideofthescreenwereshotsofthedevicesthemselves,andontheother,alivevideooftheirlocation.
Twelveminutesleft.
ShecouldseethehugeconcourseofGrandCentralTerminalinNewYorkCity,crammedwithrushhourcommuters.Andthebombinthestation’sinfirmary.
ShecouldseefamiliesliningupforLegolandinKansasCity.Andthebombinthefirstaidoffice.
ButintheWhiteHouse,thelocationofthebombwasn’tclear.Theimagewastoocloseuptoseeanythingelsearoundit.Itcouldbeanywhereinthevastbuilding.
Therewas,however,aliveshotoftheOvalOffice.ShecouldseethatBertWhiteheadhadtakenthePresidenthostage.They’dbeenrightafterall.
Elevenminutesandtwenty-fiveseconds.
Someoneshoulddosomething,shethought.Someoneshouldbetold.
Someoneshouldmakeacall.
“Ohdear,”shesighed.“It’sme.Ellenwantsmetodoit.”
Butwhotocall?
Betsywasparalyzed.Whocoulddefusethebombs?Evenifsheknew,shecouldn’tuseherphone.SheneededtokeepupthisconnectiontotheOvalOffice.TothePresident’slaptopscreen.ToEllen.
Buttherewasanotherphone.Alandlineinthefronthall.SherantoitandfoundthenumberEllenhadplacedbesideit.Grabbingthephone,Betsydialed.
“MadameVicePresident?”
Tenminutesandforty-threeseconds.
“No,you’renotHLI,”saidBeecham.“Sheis.”HepointedtoStenhauser.“Shesetthewholethingup.She’sthehigh-levelinformant.”
“Shutup,youidiot,”Stenhausersnarled.
“Theyknow,”saidBeecham.AshestaredatthePresident’sChiefofStaff,hiseyeswidened.“You’retheone.Youtriedtosetmeup.Hidingmydocuments.MakingitlooklikeIwasbehindallthis.SoI’dtaketheblameifanythingwentwrong.You’reworkingwithWhitehead.”
“He’snotinvolved,”saidStenhauser.“Ihavenoideawhoheis.”
“Good,”saidWhitehead.“Thatwastheidea.YouthinkIwantedanyonetoknow?Thinkback,Stenhauser.Wasitreallyyouridea,orwereyouledtoit?Ineededafront,someonewhocouldapproachSenators,membersofCongress.SupremeCourtJustices.Howmanyofthemhaveyourecruitednow?Two?Three?”
“Three,”saidBeecham.
“Shutthefuckup!”saidStenhauser.
“OhmyGod,”whisperedEllen,astheextentoftheplotbecameclear.“Why?Whywouldyoudothis?Allowterroriststosetoffnuclearbombshere?OnAmericansoil?”
“America?Thisisn’tAmerica!”Stenhausershouted.“DoyouthinkWashington,Jefferson,anyoftheFoundingFatherswouldrecognizethiscountry?JobsforhardworkingAmericansarebeingstolen.Prayerisbanned.Abortionsarehappeningeveryhourofeveryday.Gayscanmarry.Immigrantsandcriminalsarefloodingin.Andwe’relettingithappen?No.Itstopsnow.”
“Thisisn’tpatriotism,it’sdomesticterrorism,”Ellenshouted.“ForGod’ssake,youhelpedintheslaughterofaplatoonofArmyRangers.”
“Martyrs.Theydiedfortheircountry,”saidBeecham.
“Youmakemesick,”saidEllen.SheturnedtoGeneralWhite-head.“Andyoustartedallthis?”
Sixminutesandthirty-twoseconds.
“Idon’tknowwhoheis,”saidBarbStenhauser.“Buthe’snotoneofus.Dropthegun.”
ShesteppedtowardWhiteheadjustastheGeneral,inoneswiftmovement,swunghisweaponawayfromPresidentWilliamsandtowardBarbStenhauser.
Williamssawthatthiswasthemoment.Hethrusthiselbowback,hittingWhiteheadinthesolarplexus,doublingthemanup.
HethendoveforEllen,knockinghertothefloor.
Asthefusilladewentoff,Ellencurledintoaballandcoveredherhead.
Betsylistenedinhorror.
Ellen’sphonehaddroppedfacedownontothefloor.Shecouldn’tseeanything,butsheheardtheshots.Theshouts.
Andthen,silence.
Shestared,openmouthed,wide-eyed.Notbreathing.Finallyshemanagedtowhisper,“Ellen?”Thenscreamed,“Ellen!”
Acommandingvoicesaid,“Mr.President,areyouallright?MadameSecretary?”
BetsythoughtitmustbeaSecretServiceagent,arrivedtorestoreorder.
“Ellen!Ellen!”
Theblankscreendisappeared,andshesawherfriend’sface.“Didyoumakethecall?”Ellendemanded.
“Call?”
“TheVicePresident.Didyoutellherwherethebombsare?”
“Yes.Theshots—”
“Blanks,”camethePresident’sfamiliar,thoughstrained,voice.
Fiveminutesandtwenty-oneseconds.
“Onthefloor,”amansaid,hisvoiceforceful.“Handsbehindyourhead.”
Ellenswungaround,takingherphonewithhersothatBetsycouldseeBashirShah,TimBeecham,andBarbStenhauserfacedownonthefloor,handsbehindtheirbacks.BertWhitehead,guninhand,waskneelingbesidetheRangers,cuttingthezipcuffsoffthem.
“Thebombs—”saidWilliams.
“Betsy’salertedtheVicePresident,”saidEllen.“They’reonit.”
“Buttheonehere,”saidWhitehead.“Whereisit?”
Theylookedatthescreen.
Fourminutesandfifty-nineseconds.
“Itcouldbeanywhere,”saidWilliams.Heturnedtothecaptives.“Whereisit?Tellus!You’lldietoo.”
“It’stoolate,”saidStenhauser.“You’llneverdefuseitintime.”
Williams,Adams,andWhiteheadstaredatoneanother.
“Where’stheinfirmary?”Ellenasked.
“Idon’tknow,”saidthePresident.“Icanbarelyfindthediningroom.”
ButGeneralWhitehead’seyeshadwidened.“Iknowwhereitis.”Helookeddown.“It’sdirectlybeneaththeOvalOffice.”
“Oh,shit,”saidthePresident.
GeneralWhiteheadwasalreadymakingforthedoor.
Fourminutesandthirty-onesecondsleft.
ThePresidentoftheUnitedStatesandtheSecretaryofStatetookthebackstairstwoatatime,afewstepsbehindtheRangerandtheChairmanoftheJointChiefsofStaff.
“IhopetoGodyou’reright,”saidWilliams.
“Iam.Theotherswereininfirmaries.Thisonemustbetoo.”ButEllensoundedfarmoreconfidentthanshefelt.
SecretServiceagentswereclosebehindthem.Inthebasementtheyfoundthedoortothemedicalunitlocked.
“Ihaveacodetogetin.”ThePresidentpunchedthekeypad,buthishandswereshakingsobadlyhehadtodoittwice.ItwasallEllencoulddonottoscreamathim.
Insteadsheglancedatthecountdown.
Fourminutesandthreeseconds.
Thedoorthumpedopenandlightsautomaticallywenton.
“Youhaveyourtools?”WhiteheadaskedtheRanger.
“Yes,sir.”
Theystoodinthemiddleoftheroomandlookedaround.
“Whereisit?”demandedWilliams,turningfullcircle,hissharpeyesscanning
“TheMRImachine,”saidEllen.“Ifthebombmisseddetection,it’sbecausetheyexpectedtoseeradiationfromtheMRI.”
Threeminutes,forty-threeseconds.
TheRanger,aspecialistinbombdisposal,carefullyopenedthepanelontheMRI
Thereitwas.
“It’sadirtybomb,sir,”hesaid.“Abigone.ThiswouldtakeouttheWhiteHouseandspreadradiationoverhalfofWashington.”
HebentoveritandgottoworkwhileWhiteheadturnedtoWilliamsandEllenandsaid,“I’dtellyoutorun,but…”
Threeminutes,thirteenseconds.
Whiteheadsteppedawayandplacedacall,Ellensuspectedtohiswife.
Betsystaredatherphone.ShecouldseeEllen.Ellencouldseeher.
Itwas,Betsythought,perhapssomesmallconsolationthatshewouldnothavetogrievethelossofherfriendforlong.She’dgotoo,eventually,fromradiationpoisoning.
Therewas,thoughtEllen,greatcomfortinknowingKatherineandGilwerefaraway.
KatherineandGil,Anahita,Zahara,andBoyntonhuddledtogetherintheneardarkandstaredatthephoneinthemiddleofthetable.OnitwasthelivefeedfromKatherine’stelevisionnetwork.
Sheknewifnuclearbombswentoff,itwouldbereportedlivewithinminutes.
Rightnowtheanchorwasinterviewingsometalkingheadaboutwhetheratomatowasafruitorvegetable.Andwhatdidthatmakeketchupinthedietarychartsforschools?
Twominutesandforty-fiveseconds.
GilfeltafamiliarhandslideintohisandlookedatAna,who,withherotherhand,heldZahara’s.HereachedoutforKatherine,whoreachedoutforBoynton’shand.
Thetightcirclestaredatthephoneandwatchedthecountdown.
AstheRangerworked,andtheGeneralspokeonthephone,EllenfeltDougWilliamsbesideher.Whenshetookhishand,hesmiledhisthanks.
“Ican’tworkitout,”saidtheRanger.“It’snotlikeanymechanismI’veseenbefore.”
Oneminute,thirty-oneseconds.
“Here.”WhiteheadthrusthisphoneattheRanger.“Listen.”
TheystaredattheRanger,workingfrantically.
Fortyseconds.
Hegrabbedanothertoolanddroppedit.GeneralWhiteheadstoopedandpickeditup,handingittothewide-eyedRanger.
Twenty-oneseconds.
Stillworking.Stillworking.
Nineseconds.
Betsyclosedhereyes.
Eight.
Williamsclosedhiseyes.
Seven.
Ellenclosedhereyes.Andfeltacalmcomeoverher.
CHAPTER45
Allnetworkswerecarryingthenewsconferencelive.
ThemonitorintheSecretaryofState’sofficewastunedtotheJamesS.BradyPressBriefingRoomintheWhiteHouse.Reportersweremillingaround,awaitingthePresident.
“Hedidn’tinviteyoutojoinhim?”Katherineaskedhermother.
“Wouldyouexpecthimto?”askedBetsy,takingaswigofChardonnay.
“Hedidactually.Ideclined.”Ellenlookedatherfamily.“I’dratherbeherewithyou.”
“Aww.”GillookedatBetsy.“You’redrinkingfromaglass.”
“Onlybecauseshe’shere.”BetsypointedtoAnahita.
Theysatonthesofaandinarmchairs,theirstockingfeetuponthecoffeetable.Bottlesofwineandbeerandatrayofhalf-eatensandwichessatonasideboard.GiltwistedthetopoffabeerandhandedittoAnahitabeforetakingonehimself.
“What’shegoingtosay?”heaskedhismother.
“Thetruth,”saidEllen,collapsingontothecouchbetweenherchildren.
They’darrivedbackinDCintheearlyhourstofindtheirmotherasleep,stillinherclothes.
ThankGodforswiftmilitarytransports,Ellenthought.
Whenshewokeup,shegavethemmostofthestory,thoughthedetailswouldhavetocomeoutovertime.Andwithpatience.
NowKatherinewatchedthemonitor.Shehadjournalistsatthenewsconference,butofcourseshealsohadtheinsidestory.She’dwrittenupherownaccountofeventsthey’dbeenthrough,andsentittohersenioreditor,embargoeduntilafterthePresidentspoke.
Evenwithalltheyknew,itwouldtakemonths,maybeyears,tountangleallthathadhappened.AndtoferretoutallthemembersofHLI.
TwoSupremeCourtJusticesandsixmembersofCongresshadbeenarrested,withmorearrestsexpectedinthecominghoursanddays.Andprobablyweeks.Andmonths.
“Yesterday,”saidGil.“IntheOvalOffice.DidyouknowwhenGeneralWhiteheadtookthePresidenthostagethathewasbluffing?”
“Iwonderedthattoo,”saidBetsy.“YouleftthenumberfortheVicePresidentandtoldmeIhadtostayhome.YoudidthatsothatI’dbetheretocall.Youmust’veknownsomething.”
“Ihoped,butIdidn’tknow.IthoughtifIcouldn’tcall,youhadto.ButforabriefmomentwhenWhiteheadheldtheguntoWilliams’shead,Ibelievedhereallywasthetraitor.”
Shewasbackthereinaflash,thatmomentofhorrorwhenshe’dknownthey’dfailed.Allwaslost.She’dwokenupattwothirtythatmorning,sittingboltuprightinbed.Hereyeswideandstaring.Hermouthopen.
Ellenwonderediftheterrorwouldevercompletelygoaway.Itbrushedupagainstherevennowasshesatonthecouch,betweenherchildren.Safeandsound.Herheartpoundedandshefeltlight-headed.
I’msafe,sherepeated.I’msafe.Everyone’ssafe.
Oratleastassafeasanyonecouldbeinacontentiousdemocracy.Suchwasthepriceoffreedom.
“DidthePresidentknowthattheGeneralwasacting?”askedAnahita.
“Turnsouthedid.They’dworkedituptogether.I’dalsowonderedwhytheSecretServicehadn’tburstinrightaway.WilliamshadorderedthemtostayoutsidetheOvalOffice.”
Ellensmiledrememberinghowthebombhadbeendefused.TurnedoutBertWhiteheadhadn’tcalledhiswife.He’dcalledthesquaddisarmingthedirtybombinNewYork.
They’dhadmoretimeandmanagedtofigureitoutandwereabletoquicklywalktheRangerthroughwhattodo.
Thetimerhadstoppedwithtwosecondsleft.
Oncethey’dregainedtheircomposure,GeneralWhiteheadhadturnedtoDougWilliams.Rubbinghissolarplexus,theChairoftheJointChiefshadaskedifthePresidenthadtohithimquitesohard.
“Sorry,”saidWilliams.“Toomuchadrenaline.ButgoodtoknowIcouldtakeyou.”
“Youmightnotwanttotestthat,Mr.President,”saidtheRanger,stillbendingoverthebomb.
NowSecretaryAdamsandtheotherswatchedasjournalistsbegantotaketheirseatsintheBradyPressBriefingRoom.
“Mom?”saidKatherine.
“Sorry.”Ellencamebacktothepresent.
“HowdidyouknowtheGeneralwasn’ttheHLI?”askedKatherine.
“Ithoughthewas,atfirst.IbelievedthosedocumentsPeteHamiltonfoundintheDunnadministration’shiddenarchives.Butthenacoupleofthingsbegantobotherme.Whenhewasarrested,heattackedTimBeecham.Beathim.Justbeforebeingtakenaway,hesaidtome,‘I’vedonemypart.’”
“Irememberthat,”saidBetsy.“Gavemechills.Ithoughthewasconfessingthathe’dgottenShahreleasedandclearedthewayforthebombstobeplantedonAmericansoil.”
“Hisjobwasdone,”saidEllen.“Ithoughtsotoo.ButthemoreIthoughtaboutit,themoreIrealizedhecouldhavemeantsomethingelseentirely.ItwassofaroutofcharacterforGeneralWhiteheadtolosecontrollikethat.He’dbeenincombat,ledoperatorsondangerousmissions.Tohavecommandlikethat,firstheneededcommandofhimself.Ibegantowonderifhehadn’tactuallylostcontrol.Ifhe’dattackedBeechamonpurpose.”
“Butwhywouldhedothat?”askedGil.
“BecausehesuspectedBeechamwasthetraitorbuthadnoproof,sohedidwhathecouldtogethimoutoftheroomwhenwediscussedstrategy.Itworked.Beechamwasinthehospitalwhenwewerecomingupwithaplan.”
“That’swhathemeantwhenhesaid,‘I’vedonemypart,’”saidBetsy.“Nowitwasourturn.”
“Buttherewassomethingelse?”saidKatherine.
“Yes.Somethingfarmoreobviousandfarsimpler.BertWhite-head’sfamilywasstillinDC.Beecham’swasn’t,”saidhermother.
TherewasaquestionBetsyhadbeenafraidtoask,butdidnow.
“DidGeneralWhiteheaddesignthefactoryraid?”
“Yes.I’dtoldWilliamsthatIthoughtwe’dgottenitwrong.ThatWhiteheadhadbeensetup.Ihavetoadmit,hedidn’tbuythe‘I’vedonemypart’explanation,butwhenheheardaboutthefamilies,hewasconvinced.WhentheheadofSpecialForcesandtheGeneralscouldn’tcomeupwithagoodplantogetinto,andoutof,thatfactory,WilliamswenttoWhitehead.He’dbeenoneoftheAmericanobserversattheBattleofBajaur.Heknewtheterrain.”
“Andhedesignedthediversion,”saidKatherine.
“Andthefactoryraid.Thetwowenttogether.Hewantedtoleadithimself,”saidEllen.“ButWilliamswouldn’tlethim.Wecouldn’triskothersfindingoutthatWhiteheadhadbeenreleased.Beechamhadtobelievehe’dconvincedus.”
“SoyoukneweventhenitwasBeecham?”saidGil.
“Wethoughtso,buthadnoproof.WhenheaskedtogotoLondon,Williamsagreed.Again,togethimfaraway.”
AndnowitcametothequestionBetsyhadbeenafraidtoask.
“Thenwhodidleadthediversion?”
Ellenlookedatherandsaid,softly,“Bertchosehisaide-de-camp.She’dservedthreetoursinAfghanistanwiththeRangers.Shewashisbestofficer.”
“DenisePhelan?”
“Yes.”
Betsyclosedhereyes.Shedidn’tthinkshehadanymoresighsleftinher,butshehadatleastonemore,alongdeepsighofsorrowfortheyoungwomanstandinginthisveryroom,holdingthecoffeesandsmiling.
ShesawPeteHamilton,hardatwork.
Digging,digging.Deeper,deeper.Hehadn’tstoppedafterfindingtheinformationplantedabouttheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaff.
He’dkeptdigging.Pastthenormalinternet.Pastthedarkweb.Pastthefringe.Tothevastemptiness,thevacuum.Wherenolightcouldpenetrate.AndtherehefoundHLI.
Andindiggingsodeep,he’ddughisowngrave.
Andnowbothweregone.
BertWhiteheadtossedthestickandwatchedasitdisappearedintoasnowbank.Pineleaptafterit.Buryingherhead.Bottomintheair.Tailwagging.
Herhugeearslayontopofthepristinesnow,likewings.
BesidePine,theothershepherdwasdancingexcitedly,thenplungedhisheadintothenextsnowdrift.Fornodiscernablereason.
“Henri,itmustbeadmitted,”saidthemanbesideWhitehead,“keepsverylittleinhishead.It’sreallyonlytheretosupporthisears.Everythingimportant,hekeepsinhisheart.”
Bert’slaughcameoutinapuffofsteam.“Smartdog.”
BothmenlookedtowardtheGamachehomeinThreePines,wheretheirwiveswouldbesittingbythetelevisionwaitingforthePresident’snewsconference.
“Wouldyouliketogoinsideandwatch?”Armandasked.
“No.Yougoifyouwant.IalreadyknowwhatthePresidentwillsay.Idon’tneedtohearit.”
Hesoundedexhausted,wrungout.Bertandhiswife,alongwithPine,hadflownuptoMontréal,thendrivendowntothepeacefullittleQuébecvillageinthecountryside.Forexactlythis.
Forpeace.
Thetwomenwalkedinsilence,theirbootssqueakingonthesnowastheymadetheirwayaroundthevillagegreen.Oldfieldstone,brick,andclapboardhomesfacedthem,smokerisingfromchimneys,warmlightsatmullionedwindows.
Itwasjustaftersixo’clockandalreadydark.Polaris,theNorthStar,wasbrightoverhead.Itheldsteady,alwaysthere,whiletherestofthenightskymovedaroundit.
Bothmenpausedandlookedup.Itwascomfortingtohavesomethingthatdidnotalter.Oneconstantinanever-changinguniverse.
Thecoldscrapedtheircheeks,butneitherwasinahurrytogetinside.Theairwasrefreshing.Bracing.
Ithadbeenjustoveradaysincetheevents,buttheyseemedalifetimeagoandaworldaway.
“I’msorryaboutDenisePhelan.Aboutallofthem.”
“Merci,Armand.”TheGeneralknewthattheChiefInspectorunderstoodthegriefoflosingpeople,mostofthemappallinglyyoung,underhiscommand.
Hetookeptwhatwasmostpreciousinhisheart.Theyoungmenandwomenwouldlivethere,safe,foraslongastheirownheartsbeat.
“Ijusthopewegetthemall,”saidWhitehead.
Armandstopped.“Isthereanydoubt?”
“WithsomeonelikeShah,there’salwaysdoubt.”
“WhenyouputtheguntothePresident’shead,youalreadyknewwherethebombswere.ThePresidenthadopenedtheHLIsite,anditgaveyoutheirexactlocations,includingtheoneintheWhiteHouse.Whynotsendbombdisposalexpertsdowntodefuseit?WhywasteprecioustimepretendingtoholdthePresidenthostage?”
“Becausewedidn’tknowwheretheWhiteHousebombwas.ThefeedshowedtheOvalOffice,buttheoneshowingthebombitselfwastoocloseup.”
“Thenhowdidyoufigureitout?”
“Itwasaguess.”
ArmandlookedattheChairoftheJointChiefsofStaff,appalled.“Aguess?”
“Weknewtheotherswereininfirmaries;weguessedthatonewastoo.Butthatonlycamelater.Whatwedidn’thavewereBeechamandStenhauser’sconfessions.Itwasn’tenoughtogetthebombs.Wehadtogetthebombersandwehadtohaveproof.”
“DidyouknowSecretaryAdamswaslivestreamingittohercounselor?Thathercounselorwascallingintheinformation?”
“Icouldseewhatshewasdoingwithherphone,yes.Ihoped…”
“Soclose,”saidArmand.“Whydidtheydoit?Icanseebeingdisenchantedwithwherethecountryisgoing,butnuclearbombs?Howmanywouldhavebeenkilled?”
“Howmanydieinawar?TheysawthisasanotherAmericanRevolution.”
“WithAl-Qaedaastheirally?TheRussianmafiaasanally?”saidGamache.
“Weallmakedealswithdevils,attimes.Evenyou,myfriend.”
Armandnodded.Itwastrue.He’dmadesuchdeals.
Theirwalktookthempastthebistro,whosewindowsthrewbutterylightontothesnow.Theycouldseevillagerssittingbythefire,havingdrinksandtalkinganimatedly.Theycouldguesswhatabout.Whateveryonearoundtheworldwastalkingabout.
Theypausedatthedarkenedbookstore.Upabove,therewasalightintheloft.ItflickeredsoftlyasMyrnaLandersandAlexHuangwatchedthenewsconference.
“It’sverypeacefulhere,”saidBertWhitehead,turningawayandlookingintothemountainsandforests.Andstar-filledsky.
“Well,”saidArmand,“ithasitsmoments.”Hesawalongsighescapehiscompanion.“Whydon’tyouretire?Movehere?YouandMarthacanstaywithusuntilyoufindahome.”
Bertwassilentforafewstepsbeforeanswering.“It’stempting.Youhavenoideahowtempting.ButI’manAmerican.Asflawedasitis,thosearethescarsofademocracyworthfightingfor.It’smyhome,Armand.Justasthisisyours.Besides,untilwe’resurewehavealltheconspirators,I’mstayingonthejob.”
“Ladiesandgentlemen,thePresidentoftheUnitedStates.”
DougWilliamswalkedslowlytothepodium.Hisfacegrave.
“BeforeIgivemypreparedstatement,Iwouldlikeustoobserveamomentofsilenceforthosewhogavetheirlivestosavethiscountryfrompossiblecatastrophe,includingsixSpecialOpsaircrewmembersandanentireRangerplatoon.Thirty-sixbravemenandwomen.”
IntheSecretaryofState’soffice,theybowedtheirheads.
InOfftheRecord,theybowedtheirheads.
InTimesSquare,inPalmBeach,inthestreetsofKansasCityandOmahaandMinneapolisandDenver.Acrossthevastplains,andthemountainranges,intownsandvillagesandgreatcities,Americansbowedtheirheads.
Forthetruepatriotswhogavetheirlives.
“Iwillreadapreparedstatement,”PresidentWilliamssaid,breakingthesilence.Hethenpausedandseemedtoconsider.“Beforetakingquestions.”
Therewasaslightmurmurthroughthecrowdofjournalists.Theyhadn’texpectedthat.
IntheSecretaryofState’soffice,theylistened.
PresidentWilliamshadinvitedEllentotheOvalOfficethatmorningtodiscusswhatshouldandshouldnotbesaidtotheAmericanpublic.Healsoinvitedhertojoinhimatthenewsconference,butshebeggedoff.
“Thankyou,butIfeeltheneedtobewithmyfamilyrightnow,Mr.President.I’llwatchitalongwitheveryoneelse.”
“Ineedyouradvice,Ellen.”Hewavedhertothearmchairbythefireplace.
“Thatshirtdoesnotworkwiththatsuit.”
“No,no,notthat.I’mtryingtodecidewhethertotakequestionsatthenewsconference.”
“Ithinkyoushould.”
“Butyouknowthey’llaskquestionsthataresensitive.Almostimpossibletoanswer.”
“Ido.Tellthemthetruth,”saidEllen.“Wecanhandletruth.It’stheliesthatdodamage.”
“IfIdothat,youknowI’llbeblamedforallowingittogetthatfar.”Helookedatherclosely.“Isthatwhyyou’resuggestingit?”
“ConsideritpaybackforSouthKorea.”
“Oh.”Hegrimaced.“Youknowaboutthat?”
“Iguessed.Isn’tthatwhyyouappointedmeSecretaryofState?SothatI’dnotonlyhavetogiveupmymediaplatformbutI’dalsobeoutofthecountrymostofthetime,andoutofyourhair.YoucouldmakesureI’dfail.I’dbeinternationallyhumiliated,andyoucouldfireme.”
“Goodplan,no?”
“AndyethereIam.Doug,what’sgoingtohappeninAfghanistan?Youknowthatwithourpullout,theTalibanalongwithAl-Qaedaandotherterroristswilltakeover.”
“Yes.”
“Alltheprogressmadeforhumanrightscouldbewipedout.Allthegirls,allthewomen,whowenttoschool,gotaneducation.Gotjobs.Becameteachersanddoctorsandlawyers,busdrivers.YouknowwhatwillhappentothemiftheTalibanhasitsway.”
“Well,Iguesswe’llneedastrong,internationallyrespectedSecretaryofStatetoletanyAfghangovernmentknowthatrightsmustberespected.AndthatAfghanistanmustnotonceagainbecomehometoterrorists.”Helookedatherlongenoughforhertobegintoblush.“Thankyou.Forallthatyoudidtostoptheattacks.Youriskedeverything.”
“Youknow,don’tyou,”shesaid,“thattheconspiratorsaren’ttheonlyoneswhofeelwe’velostourway.They’rethemostobvious,buttherearetensofmillionswhoagree.Goodpeople.Decentpeople.Whomightnotshareourpoliticsbutwho’dgiveustheshirtofftheirbacksifweneededit.”
Henodded.“Iknow.Wehavetodosomething.Givethemtheshirtoffourbacks.”
“Givethemjobs.Givetheirchildrenafuture,theirtownsafuture.Stoptheliesthatfeedtheirfears.”
TheliesthathadcreatedandfedtheirownhomegrownAzhiDahaka.
“There’salotofreckoning.Alotofhealing,”hesaid.“MorethanIrealized.Youwererightinmanyofyoureditorials.Ihavealottolearn.”
“IactuallythinkIsaidyouhadtogetyourheadoutof—”
“Yes,yes,Idorememberthat.”Buthewassmiling,andthewayhewaslookingathermadehercheeksburn.
Now,hourslater,withthesunsetting,shesatinherofficewithherdaughterandson,withBetsyandCharlesBoyntonandtheFSOAnahitaDahir.Whowas,Ellensuspected,judgingbythelookonGil’sface,maybegoingtobesomuchmorethanherFSO.
TheywatchedasDougWilliamsintroducedthebomb-disposalexpertswho’ddefusedthenucleardevices;thenhedescribedwhathadhappenedsincethebusbombshadgoneoff.
“That’sanicementionofyou,Mom,”saidKatherine.“He’schangedhistune.”
And,Ellennoticed,hissuit.
BetsyleanedoverandhandedEllensomething.“MadameSecretary,alittlerecognitionforyourpublicservice.”
ItwasacoasterfromtheOfftheRecordbar.WithEllenAdams’sfaceonit.
Whenthenewsconferenceended,GilaskedAnahitaifshe’dliketograbsomedinner.
Intherestaurant,shelistenedashetoldheraboutthebookdealhe’dbeenoffered.Sheaskedhowhefeltaboutit.Howlongitwouldtaketowrite.
Sinceallthefactswereout,therewasnoissueofbreakinganyconfidences.Hewasexcitedabouttellingthefullbehind-the-scenesstory.Thoughhe’dleaveoutthepartaboutHamza,theLion.ThememberoftheterroristPathanfamilywhowashisfriend.
Gilaskedifshe’dwritethebookwithhim.
Shedeclined.ShestillhadherjobasaforeignserviceofficerwiththeStateDepartment.
“Howareyourparents?”heasked.
“They’rebackhome.”
Gilnodded.AndAnahitalookedoutthewindow.ToaWashington,DC,stillthere.
“Howaretheyfeeling?”heasked.
Anahitaturnedastonishedeyesonhim.Thentoldhim.
“Andhowareyoufeeling?”heasked.
“MadameSecretary.”
“Yes,Charles.”
“YouaskedmetolookintofissilematerialmissingfromRussia.”
Hestoodafewfeetfromherdesk.
Itwaswellafterdark.Betsywasatherdeskinherownoffice,writingupnotesandansweringquestionsfromUSIntelligencerelatingtothevideoshe’drecorded.
“Whatdidyoufind?”SecretaryAdamsasked.
Hewaslookingatherinawaythatwasdeeplydisconcerting.ItwasfairlyclearthatherChiefofStaffhadnotfoundabasketofkittens.
Sheputoutherhandforthepaperheheld,thenindicatedachairbesideher.She’dneverdonethatbefore,preferringhestayonhissideofthedesk.Standing.
Buttheworldwasnew,andthey’dbegunagain.
Sheputonherglassesandlookedatthepaper,thenathim.
“What’sthis?”
“There’sfissionablematerialmissingnotjustfromRussiabutalsofromUkraine,Australia,Canada.TheUnitedStates.”
“Where’ditgo?”Evenassheaskedthat,sheknewhowridiculousitwas.Afterall,itwasmissing.
Still,heanswered,rubbinghisforeheadwithhishand.“Idon’tknow.Butit’senoughtomakehundredsofbombs.”
“Howlong’sitbeengone?”
Againheshookhishead.
“Andfromourownstorehouses?”
Henodded.
“Butthat’snotall.”Hepointedfartherdownthepage.
“Whenthouhastdone,”shethought,“thouhastnotdone,forIhavemore.”
Shedroppedhereyes.Assheread,shetookalong,slowgasp.
Saringas.
Anthrax.
Ebola.
Marburgvirus.
Sheturnedthepageover.Thelistcontinued.Everyhorrorknowntoman.Everyhorrormadebymanwasthere.Andnotthere.
Missing.Unaccountedfor.
Ellenlookedatthelong,lostlist.
“Ithink,”shewhispered,“wehaveournextnightmare.”
“Yes,Ithinkyou’reright,MadameSecretary.”
THEEND
Acknowledgments
Wearebothgratefulforthechancetoworktogether,anexperiencethathasaddedtothejoysandsurprisesofourfriendship.Andweeachhavelotsofpeopletothank,soheregoes:
Louise:
Thisbookstartedforme,assomanythingsdo,unexpectedly.
IwasatthefamilycottagebyalakenorthofMontréalinspring2020.ThepandemicwasinfullswingandIwasshelteringinplacewhenamessagecameinfrommyagent:Ineedtospeaktoyou.
Now,inmyexperience,thatalmostnevermeansgoodnews.
Themiddleofaworldwidepandemic(asitturnedoutitwasnotthemiddle,butjustthebeginning),isolatingbyanalreadyisolatedlake,andsomedisasterisabouttobefallmyliterarycareer.
Igrabbedabagofjellybeansandcalledmyagent.
“HowwouldyoufeelaboutwritingapoliticalthrillerwithHillaryClinton?”
“Huh?”
Herepeatedit.AsdidI.
“Huh?”
Now,whilethisquestioncameasacompletesurprise,itdidnotcomeoutoftheblue.HillaryandIknoweachother.Are,infact,closefriends(andstillare—Ithinkthatcouldbeconsideredamiracle).
Ourfriendshiphappened,assomanythingsdo,unexpectedly.
HillarywasrunningforPresident.ItwasJuly2016andherbestfriend,BetsyJohnsonEbeling,gaveaninterviewtoaChicagoreporterabouttheirrelationship.Inthatinterviewshewasaskedwhattheyhadincommon.AmongthethingsBetsymentionedwastheirloveofbooks,specificallycrimenovels.
Thenthereporteraskedthequestionthatchangedallourlives.
“Whatareyoureadingnow?”
Asfatewouldhaveit,theywerebothreadingoneofmybooks.
MyamazingpublicistwithMinotaurBooks,SarahMelnyk,sawtheinterviewandexcitedlycontactedme.
MyupcomingtourforthenewGamachebookwouldstartinChicago—howdidIfeelaboutmeetingBetsytherebeforetheevent?
Tobehonest,it’squitestressfulbeforebigevents,andmeetingastrangerbeforehandisnotideal.ButIagreed.
AweekorsolaterIwasbackstage,heardasound,turned,andfellinlove.Justlikethat.
I’dexpectedHillary’sbestfriendtobesomeintimidatingpowerbroker.InsteadIsawaslightwoman,grayhairinabob,withthewarmestsmileandkindeyes.Ilostmyheartthenandthere.
IlovedBetsythen,andIlovehernow.
AfewweeksafterIgothomefromtour,mybelovedhusband,Michael,diedofdementia.Instrugglingtogetahandleonlifewithouthim,Ifoundcomfortinopeningallthecardsofcondolence.
Oneday,sittingatthediningtable,Iopenedoneandstartedreading.IttalkedaboutMichael’scontributionstoresearchintochildhoodleukemia.HispositionasheadofhematologyattheMontrealChildren’sHospital.Hisworkasaleadinvestigatorwiththeinternationalpediatriconcologygroup.
Thewritertalkedaboutlossandgriefandofferedheartfeltcondolence.
ItwasfromHillaryRodhamClinton.
SecretaryClinton,inthelaststagesofabruisingbrutalcampaignforthemostpowerfuljobintheworld,tooktimeouttowritetome.
Awomanshe’dnevermet.
Aboutamanshe’dnevermet.
ACanadianwhocouldn’tevenvoteforher.Itwasaprivatenote,notmeanttohelpherinanyway,butofferingcomforttoastrangerinprofoundgrief.
ItwasanactofselflessnessIwillneverforget,andonethathasinspiredmetobekinderinmyownlife.
I’dkeptintouchwithBetsy,andwhenNovemberrolledaroundsheinvitedmetotheJavitsCenterinNewYorkCitytoseeHillarywinthepresidency.IwillneverforgetlookingacrossthevastroomandseeingtinyBetsysittingandstaring.Thatthousand-yardstareofsomeonewhohasjustseentoomuch.
InFebruaryof2017,HillaryinvitedBetsyandmetoChappaquafortheweekend.Itwouldbeourfirstmeeting.
AndIfellinloveagain,thoughpartofthemagicofthoseextraordinaryfewdayswassittingquietlyandwatchingthetwofriendswho’dmetinsixthgrade.Who’dstayedclosealltheirlives.Onegoingontobealawyer,FirstLady,Senator,andSecretaryofState,and,ifvotescountedinsteadoftheelectoralcollege,winningthepresidency,whiletheotherbecameahighschoolteacher,thenacommunityactivist.Raisingthreechildrenwithherwonderfulhusband,Tom.
ItwassoclearthatBetsyandHillaryweresoulmatesthatitwasalmostaspiritualexperiencetoseethemtogether.
BetsyandTom,HillaryandBillcametovisitmeinQuébecthatsummerforaweek’svacation.
BythenitwasclearthatthebreastcancerthatBetsyhadbattledformanyyearswaswinning.Butstill,sheleanedintolife,withthesupportofthehugecircleofclosefriendsthatsheandHillaryshared.
InJuly2019Betsydied.
Ifyou’vereadStateofTerror,you’llknowthatitwaswrittenasapoliticalthriller,asanexaminationofhate,butfinally,ultimately,acelebrationoflove.
HillaryandIfeltstronglythatwewantedtoreflecttheprofoundfemalerelationshipswebothhave.Thatunshakablebondoffriendship.
AndwewantedBetsytofigurelarge.
WhileBetsyEbelinginreallifewasfargentler,withoutquitethatmouthonher,shesharesmanyqualitieswithBetsyJameson.Herluminousintelligence,herfierceloyalty.Herbravery.Herbravery.Herbravery.Andherboundlesscapacityforlove.
So,yes,whenmywonderfulagent,DavidGernert,askedifI’dwriteapoliticalthrillerwithmyfriendH,Iagreed,thoughnotwithouttrepidation.
I’djustfinishedthelatestChiefInspectorGamache,sofeltIhadthetime,butwhiletherearesimilarities,I’donlyeverwrittencrimenovels.Apoliticalthrilleronthisscalewassofarbeyondmycomfortzoneastobelongonanotherplanet.
ButhowintheworldcouldIletfearoffailurestealthisopportunity?Ihadtoatleasttry.IhaveaposterupwhereIwrite.OnitarethefinalwordsoftheIrishpoetSeamusHeaney.
NoliTimere.Benotafraid.
Truthis,Iwasafraid,butoftenit’snotacaseinlifeoflessfear,butofmorecourage.
SoIclosedmyeyes,tookabreath,andsaidyes.I’lldoit.AslongasHillarywashappytoo.Itwassoclearlygoingtobeanevengreaterriskforher.
Iwon’tgointothedetailsofhowthisparticularplotdevelopedexcepttosayitcameoutofoneofourmanyphonecallsthatspring,whenHillarytalkedaboutwhat,asSecretaryofState,wokeherupwithastartat3a.m.Therewerethreenightmarescenarios.Wechosethisone.
Theactualideaofuswritingthisbooktogetherwasthebrainchildofmyfriend,oneofthegreatpublishersofhisgenerationorany,StephenRubin.Thankyou,Steve!
HeapproachedDavidGernert,whoapproachedme.Thankyou,David,forshepherdingthisbookthroughthelabyrinthandalwaysbeingsowise,sopositive,sowarm,andsoprotective.
IwanttothankmyownpublishersatMinotaurBooks/St.Martin’sPress/Macmillanfortaking,aswesayinQuébec,lebeaurisque.DonWeisberg,JohnSargent,AndyMartin,SallyRichardson,TraceyGuest,SarahMelnyk,PaulHochman,KelleyRagland,andthewomanwhoeditedStateofTerror,thegreatpublisherofSMP,JenniferEnderlin.
HugethankyoutotheteamatHillary’spublisher,Simon&Schuster,foryourideasandcollaboration.
ThankyoutoBobBarnett.
Thankyoutomyassistant(andwonderfulfriend)LiseDesrosiers.Noneofthiswouldbepossiblewithoutyoursupport,mydearone.
TomEbeling,forlettingusputafictionalizedversionofBetsyintothebook.
Tomybrother,Doug,withwhomIwasshelteringinthewinter/springof2020,wholistenedtoallmyangstandridiculousideas.
ToRobandAudi,Mary,KirkandWalter,RockyandSteve.
ToBill,foryourinputandsupport.(ItwasdifficulttoarguewhenBillClintonreadanearlydraftandsaid,“APresidentisunlikelytodo….)
Wehadtokeepthiscollaborationsecretformorethanayear,butsomanyfriendshelpedwithoutrealizingitjustbyalwaysbeingthere.ThisincludedthefriendsHillaryandIshare,allofwhomareinmylifebecauseofBetsy.
HardyeandDon,AllidaandJudy,BonnieandKen,Sukie,Patsy,OscarandBrendan
AndHillary—thankyou.Youmadewhatcouldhavebeenanightmareapleasure.Youmadethebooksosmartandtheexperiencesoeasyandsuchfun,exceptwhenI’dreceivefivehundredpages(literally)ofmanuscript—scanned.Withherscribblesinthemargin.
ThankGodformymagicjellybeans.
Thelaughswehadwritingthisbook,amidthelongpausesaswestaredateachotheroverFaceTime,havingliterallylosttheplot.
And,ofcourse,IwanttoacknowledgemydearMichael.Oh,howhappyandproudhe’dbe.HesoadmiredSecretaryClinton.ItwouldhavegivenhimsuchjoytogettoknowherasHillary.Andtoseewhatalovelywomansheis.
Michaeladoredthrillers.Indeed,whenitbecameclearhehadonemorebookinhimbeforethedementiastolehisabilitytoreadandunderstand,Ichoseapoliticalthriller.EverydayIimaginehimholdingStateofTerrorandbeaming.
ThereisnothingIsee,feel,smell,hearthatdoesnotoweitsexistencetothedayIfellinlovewithMichaelWhitehead.
Andnowyouknowthegenesisofanothercharacter.
StateofTerrorisaboutterrorbut,atitscore,atitsheart,itisaboutcourageandlove.
Hillary:
IwasathomeinChappaqua,shelteringwithmyfamilyduringthepandemic,whenBobBarnett,mylawyerandfriend,calledtoreportthatSteveRubinhadsuggestedthatLouiseandIwriteabook.
IwasdubiousbutlistenedasBobmadethecasebasedonhispriorexperienceworkingwithtwootherclients,myhusbandandJamesPatterson,who’vewrittentwothrillerstogether.
IadmireLouiseasawriterandloveherasafriend,buttheprospectseemeddaunting.I’veonlywrittennonfiction,butthenIthought,mylifeisthestuffoffiction,somaybeitwasworthatry.
LouiseandIbegantalkingandproducedalong,detailedoutline,whichourprospectivepublishersliked,sowedoveintoourlong-distancecollaboration.Andwhatajoyitwastocreateourcharacters,refineourplot,andtradedrafts.MuchonmymindasIwrotein2020werethelossesoftwoclosefriendsandmybrother,Tony,in2019.
BetsyJohnsonEbelinghadbeenmybestfriendsincesixthgrade,whenwemetinMrs.King’sclassroomatFieldSchoolinParkRidge,Illinois.We’dweatheredsixdecadesoflife’supsanddownstogetherandImisshereveryday.
EllenTauscher,formermemberofCongressfromCaliforniaandUnderSecretaryofStateforArmsControlandInternationalSecuritywhenIwasSecretaryofStatefrom2009–2013,hadbeenmydearfriendforovertwenty-fiveyears.Afterthe2016election,shecameoftentostaywithmetofigureoutWhatHappened.
EllendiedonApril29,2019.
Thenmyyoungerbrother,Tony,diedonJune7afterayearofillness.ItbreaksmyheartwheneverIthinkofhimasalittleboy,andthethreechildrenheleftbehind.
AndonJuly28,Betsylostherlongfightwithbreastcancer.
Anyoneoftheseloseswouldhavebeenpainful,butthecombinationwasdevastating,andstillhardformetofullyaccept.
BothBetsy’shusband,Tom,andEllen’sdaughter,Katherine,supportedourdesiretomodelourfictionalcharactersontheirwifeandmotherrespectively.
Theycarrynoresponsibilityforthedifferenceswecreated.
WhenLouiseandIdecidedtoconstructourstoryaroundaSecretaryofState,IsuggestedEllenasourinspiration,alongwithherreal-lifedaughter,Katherine,asthenamesforourfictionalversions.
And,ofcourse,Betsywouldbethemodelforthebestfriendandcounselor,bytheSecretary’sside.
IwanttoaddmythankstothepeopleLouisementionsinheracknowledgments,andaddthatOscarandBrendanhelpedincountlessways,includingsolvingacomputerglitchwithourmanuscriptattheend.
ThanksalsotoHeatherSamuelsonandNickMerrillfortheirfact-checkinghelp.
ThisistheeighthbookI’vedonewithSimon&SchusterandthefirstwithouttheindomitableCarolynReidy,whoismissedbutnotforgotten.Thankfully,herlegacycontinuesundertheleadershipofJonathanKarp,whocontinuestoencourageme.
I’mgratefultohimandtheentireteam:DanaCanedy,StephenRubin,MarysueRucci,JuliaProsser,MarieFlorio,StephenBedford,ElizabethBreeden,EmilyGraff,IreneKheradi,JanetCameron,FeliceJavit,CarolynLevin,JeffWilson,JackieSeow,andKimberlyGoldstein.
AndmythankstoBill,agreatreaderandwriterofthrillers,forhisconstantsupportandusefulsuggestions,asalways.
Finally,thisisaworkoffictionbutthestoryittellsisalltootimely.
It’suptoustomakesureitsplotstaysfictional.
AbouttheAuthors
HillaryRodhamClintonisthefirstwomaninUShistorytobecomethepresidentialnomineeofamajorpoliticalparty.Sheservedasthe67thSecretaryofStateafternearlyfourdecadesinpublicserviceadvocatingonbehalfofchildrenandfamiliesasanattorney,FirstLadyandUSSenator.Sheisawife,mother,grandmotherandauthorofsevenpreviousbooks.
LouisePennyisaninternationalaward-winningandbestsellingauthorwhosebookshavehitnumberoneontheNewYorkTimes,USATodayandGlobeandMaillists.HerChiefInspectorArmandGamachenovelshavebeentranslatedintothirty-onelanguages.In2017,shereceivedtheOrderofCanadaforhercontributionstoCanadianculture.LouisePennylivesinavillagesouthofMontréal.
ALSOBYHILLARYRODHAMCLINTON
TheBookofGutsyWomen
(withChelseaClinton)
WhatHappened
HardChoices
LivingHistory
ItTakesaVillage
DearSocks,DearBuddy:
Kids’LetterstotheFirstPets
AnInvitationtotheWhiteHouse:
AtHomewithHistory
ALSOBYLOUISEPENNY
TheMadnessofCrowds
AlltheDevilsAreHere
ABetterMan
KingdomoftheBlind
GlassHouses
AGreatReckoning
TheNatureoftheBeast
TheLongWayHome
HowtheLightGetsIn
TheBeautifulMystery
ATrickoftheLight
BuryYourDead
TheBrutalTelling
ARuleAgainstMurder
TheCruelestMonth
AFatalGrace
StillLife
Firstpublished2021jointlybySimon&SchusterandSt.Martin’sPress
Thiselectroniceditionfirstpublished2021byMacmillan
animprintofPanMacmillan
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ISBN?978-1-5290-7971-5
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