Dark Zone by Stephen Coonts Page B

intelligence-gathering methods.”
    Or embarrass the French too severely, thought Rubens, given their recent trend of cooperation with America. The French had only recently woken up to the fact that Islamic fundamentalism posed at least as great a threat to Europe as it did to America. Now that they were finally cooperating, they had to be handled delicately.
    “How long would it take to make this into a bomb?” asked Namath.
    “Impossible to know for certain,” said Rubens. “Weeks rather than days. Months most likely. But it could even be years.”
    “So it could have already been constructed?”
    “Very possible,” said Rubens. “As I said, the most likely use is as a dirty bomb, and that could be put together relatively quickly.”
    “The French have to be notified,” said Hadash. “We need their help tracking it down.”
    “I believe they’ll help us,” said Lincoln. “But they’ll ask us to share information. And if we want help, we’ll have to do so.”
    “The NSA concurs,” said Brown. “My suggestion is that we indicate we came by the information via an intercept.”
    “What if they want more?” said Lincoln.
    “I don’t think mentioning the monitoring project would help one way or the other,” said Namath. “And that’s what you’re worried about. Intercepts—we can be vague.”
    “In the past the French haven’t taken much seriously unless they have very strong corroboration,” said Lincoln.
    “Telling them we’re watching over their shoulder isn’t going to make them cooperative,” said Hadash.
    “I agree,” said Lincoln. “But they may not take an intercept very seriously.”
    “They may not,” admitted Rubens.
    “Well, let’s take the chance that they will,” said the President. “They’ve been shaping up. Their cooperation in Africa over the past few months has been very useful. How many terrorists have been arrested?” he asked Namath.
    “At least a dozen.”
    “And now we’ll reciprocate,” said Marcke. “Since we’ll be there on Friday, I think State might bring this missing warhead up at a high but informal level, and refer the French to Admiral Brown. He can take it from there.”
    “That sounds reasonable,” said Lincoln. “Since we’re on the topic of Europe, I have some concerns about some of the alerts that the NSA recently passed along concerning high-level Americans being targeted there. That was the phrase used in the Philippines last year just before an attack on one of our ambassadors. I want to issue an alert to embassy personnel.”
    “‘That’s premature,” said Hadash.
    The debate zigzagged from there, Lincoln worried for his people, Hadash trying to put it in perspective. Brown took Lincoln’s side; the CIA people took Hadash’s. Rubens said a few words backing up his boss, but the alert system was not under his jurisdiction and, frankly, he didn’t care much for it. Besides, Lincoln was operating on emotion rather than logic; he wasn’t going to be mollified by technical arguments about the worth of the data.
    “What we need is more information,” said Marcke finally. “Admiral, let’s find out what’s going on.”
    “Absolutely,” said Brown.
    “I have to protect my people,” said Lincoln. “Let me tell the embassy staffs something.”
    “I think if you want to discourage unnecessary travel by close dependents, that would be in order,” said Hadash—very likely offering a face-saving compromise because he would be in Europe with Lincoln and didn’t want him grouchy the whole time.
    “All right,” said Lincoln. “I will.”
    As the others filtered out, the President asked Rubens if he was feeling OK.
    “Yes, sir. Why?”
    “You look a little tired. You should get more rest. Take a vacation.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Marcke smiled at him. “I’m serious.”
    “I will. As soon as I can.”
    “If I didn’t know you hated France so much, I’d suggest you come with us.”
    “The only thing wrong with France is