murder and the attempt on the Pakistani President’s life.”
“Turn it off, Angie,” the president said.
The flat-screen cut to black.
“God only knows what she’s suffering,” he said.
“I hate to say this, Mr President, but she could be dead already,” the Secretary of Defense said, preferring to be formal in such circumstances, the fingers of his right hand propping up his ample head as he rested his elbow on the table.
“Don’t you think I know that, Jack; and how the hell did that reporter know the secretary received a death threat this morning?”
“The caller spoke to the switchboard operator, Mr President,” Deputy Director Houseman said, his hard features filling the screen, highlighting the mottling on his cheeks and hawk’s nose.
“I’m aware of that also. Find out for sure. What are the chances the Leopards are to blame?”
“Without any intelligence reports to go on, I’d say about sixty per cent, sir,” Houseman replied.
“They’d do it just to humiliate us. I don’t want the Bureau of Diplomatic Security dealing with this. The CIA will assume operational control. I will personally oversee matters from here.”
“Mr President, the White House is on high alert, but I’d prefer it if you boarded Air Force One, at least for the next few hours,” the secretary said, shuffling uneasily in his chair now, his forty-eight-inch waist spilling over his pants.
“That isn’t going to happen, Jack,” the president replied.
The secretary rubbed his flabby neck before shaking his head.
“I want the Joint Chief and the Under-Secretary back home today. I want the embassy closed in forty-eight hours. Is that clear, Bill?”
“Understood, Mr President,” Houseman said from the screen.
“Closing the embassy might not be the best move,” the secretary said.
“I don’t want another US citizen killed over there. The DS has taken a beating. The country will be seeing quite enough coffins draped in the flag. Quite enough.”
The president took soundings from each of the assembled group. At this stage, no one was able to come up with a coherent plan. Any plan, in fact.
“We have replays, Mr President,” a defence advisor said, sitting in the second row of chairs behind the table. “On terminal two.”
The president and the others watched in silence as the images of the kidnapping unfolded. The smoke obscured the view as it was intended to. The drone operators, fully trained pilots at Creech Air Force Base, had focused on the secretary being bundled down the alley. But the Pakistani police helicopter exploding into a white flash hadn’t helped, and in any event it was impossible to make out which of the five cars that had sped off from underneath the overhangs and awnings had been used to carry her.
“They parked there purposely. They knew we’d have Linda covered,” the Secretary of Defense said.
The president knew that drones could track insurgents with lasers to pinpoint them for pursuing Special Forces on the ground. But one of the few times he’d felt the multibillion-dollar technology would earn its keep, it had been rendered useless by a simple yet very effective diversionary tactic.
“Goddamn it, Jack. This is awful. I want everyone we have on this. Everyone, do you understand?”
“All leave has been cancelled for the FBI at the Hoover Building until further notice. The CIA at Langley and the NSA at Fort Meade, too,” he replied.
“Mr President,” Houseman said.
“Yes, Bill.”
“I should point out that we have no evidence to date that the secretary was taken in a car. She could’ve disappeared into one of the buildings. The cars coulda been decoys.”
“Either way, find her. Just find her,” the president said. “I want thirty-minute progress reports for the next twelve hours. And I mean
progress
.”
“Yes, Mr President,” Houseman said, his voice sombre.
The room fell silent again. The president stood up, followed by the assembled men and
“Turn it off, Angie,” the president said.
The flat-screen cut to black.
“God only knows what she’s suffering,” he said.
“I hate to say this, Mr President, but she could be dead already,” the Secretary of Defense said, preferring to be formal in such circumstances, the fingers of his right hand propping up his ample head as he rested his elbow on the table.
“Don’t you think I know that, Jack; and how the hell did that reporter know the secretary received a death threat this morning?”
“The caller spoke to the switchboard operator, Mr President,” Deputy Director Houseman said, his hard features filling the screen, highlighting the mottling on his cheeks and hawk’s nose.
“I’m aware of that also. Find out for sure. What are the chances the Leopards are to blame?”
“Without any intelligence reports to go on, I’d say about sixty per cent, sir,” Houseman replied.
“They’d do it just to humiliate us. I don’t want the Bureau of Diplomatic Security dealing with this. The CIA will assume operational control. I will personally oversee matters from here.”
“Mr President, the White House is on high alert, but I’d prefer it if you boarded Air Force One, at least for the next few hours,” the secretary said, shuffling uneasily in his chair now, his forty-eight-inch waist spilling over his pants.
“That isn’t going to happen, Jack,” the president replied.
The secretary rubbed his flabby neck before shaking his head.
“I want the Joint Chief and the Under-Secretary back home today. I want the embassy closed in forty-eight hours. Is that clear, Bill?”
“Understood, Mr President,” Houseman said from the screen.
“Closing the embassy might not be the best move,” the secretary said.
“I don’t want another US citizen killed over there. The DS has taken a beating. The country will be seeing quite enough coffins draped in the flag. Quite enough.”
The president took soundings from each of the assembled group. At this stage, no one was able to come up with a coherent plan. Any plan, in fact.
“We have replays, Mr President,” a defence advisor said, sitting in the second row of chairs behind the table. “On terminal two.”
The president and the others watched in silence as the images of the kidnapping unfolded. The smoke obscured the view as it was intended to. The drone operators, fully trained pilots at Creech Air Force Base, had focused on the secretary being bundled down the alley. But the Pakistani police helicopter exploding into a white flash hadn’t helped, and in any event it was impossible to make out which of the five cars that had sped off from underneath the overhangs and awnings had been used to carry her.
“They parked there purposely. They knew we’d have Linda covered,” the Secretary of Defense said.
The president knew that drones could track insurgents with lasers to pinpoint them for pursuing Special Forces on the ground. But one of the few times he’d felt the multibillion-dollar technology would earn its keep, it had been rendered useless by a simple yet very effective diversionary tactic.
“Goddamn it, Jack. This is awful. I want everyone we have on this. Everyone, do you understand?”
“All leave has been cancelled for the FBI at the Hoover Building until further notice. The CIA at Langley and the NSA at Fort Meade, too,” he replied.
“Mr President,” Houseman said.
“Yes, Bill.”
“I should point out that we have no evidence to date that the secretary was taken in a car. She could’ve disappeared into one of the buildings. The cars coulda been decoys.”
“Either way, find her. Just find her,” the president said. “I want thirty-minute progress reports for the next twelve hours. And I mean
progress
.”
“Yes, Mr President,” Houseman said, his voice sombre.
The room fell silent again. The president stood up, followed by the assembled men and
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