When he reached the White House, he circled behind the Executive Office Building, entering the grounds via the South Lawn gate. He personally knew the guards here, so was able to park in one of the spaces reserved for visiting Treasury Department officials.
This was the same lot where Vince normally parked. As Thomas exited his vehicle, he wondered how his brother was doing. He was most likely somewhere on the QE2 right now, in the process of attending to that growing list of last-minute details that always seemed to pop up. Once he completed his business with the SAIC, Thomas intended to find a secure phone and call Vince.
A uniformed Secret Service agent stationed outside the West Portico informed Thomas that the SAIC was last seen headed toward the South Lawn. In little less than an hour, Marine One would be landing here, to whisk the President off to Andrews and a New York-bound flight aboard Air Force One. Before boarding the helicopter, the President would make a brief statement to the American people from the South Lawn’s terraced rose garden. The President considered this address so important that even the likes of Samuel Morrison had been called out to insure it went off without a hitch.
At least the weather would cooperate, Thomas thought, enjoying the fresh air. He decided to access the South Lawn by taking the exterior, west walkway. A bed of red geraniums lined this concrete path, passing directly in front of the West Portico’s side doorway.
The loud, frightened wail of a cat caused Thomas to stop momentarily.
The incessant mewing continued, drawing his attention to the line of ancient oaks that lay on the opposite side of the flower bed. A quarter of the way up the smallest of the trees, stranded on a swaying branch, was a tiny black cat with a white spot on its nose. The poor feline had apparently allowed its curiosity to-get the better of it.
Thomas could see that it didn’t have the nerve to jump to the solid earth below, even though this fall was seven feet at most.
With no groundskeeper in sight, the cat would have been in for a long stay had Thomas not made the spur of-the-moment decision to be its savior. He crossed the flower bed, careful not to step on the geraniums, and positioned himself at the side of the tree, immediately below the stranded kitten.
“Easy does it, fella,” said Thomas, while lifting his arms overhead to see if he could reach the bouncing limb. Two inches remained between his outstretched fingers and the branch. Thomas looked up at the cat and said, “Okay, Kitty. If you really want to get down from there, you’re going to have to compromise a bit. Come on, fella, you can do it.”
Once again he lifted his right arm overhead, this time cupping his hand directly below the kitten. The cat looked down at this offered perch, initially wanting nothing to do with it, but when no alternatives were subsequently offered, it wisely decided it was now or never. Gauging the distance with a tentative swipe of its paw, the cat gathered its nerve and plopped down onto Thomas’s hand. It barely fit, and Thomas wasted no time in gently conveying it to the ground below.
“Bravo!” said a female voice from behind him. Thomas turned to find Brittany Cooper standing alone on the walkway. The Naval attache was dressed in a crisp white uniform and held a flat map case at her side.
Thomas, suddenly realizing how ridiculous he must look, carefully jumped the flower bed and returned to the walkway. Just as his foot hit the concrete path, the kitten shot past him like a bullet, on the trail of a squirrel.
“I didn’t realize that saving stranded White House pets was part of your official BATF responsibilities,” Brittany teased.
“I’m just a humble public servant here to serve my government in whatever capacity it might ask of me,” returned Thomas, with the slightest of playful bows. “Actually, cat rescue is only my secondary duty at the White House. I’m here at the behest of our esteemed SAIC.”
Thomas reached Brittany’s side, and though he would have loved to hug her, he reluctantly held back for a more appropriate time. Brittany felt likewise, and reacted to the awkwardness of the moment by trying her best to keep the conversation focused on business.
“Something tells me that your presence here has some connection with yesterday’s crisis,” Brittany said. Thomas nodded, and Brittany added, “I hope all went well. Can you tell me about it yet?”
“Let’s just say we successfully concluded the preliminary stage of an ongoing investigation, and now the real detective work begins,” answered Thomas carefully. “I’m sorry that I can’t give you more details right now.”
“Apologies aren’t necessary, Thomas. I’m happy to see you. When you and your brother ran off like that yesterday afternoon, I didn’t know what to expect.”
“Sorry I didn’t call last night. It was getting pretty late by the time I finally got home. And thanks for being such a good sport.”
“There you go with your apologies again, Special Agent. I understand the sensitive nature of your business, even though I never realized it included rescuing pets in distress. Once you guys took off yesterday, Kelly and I finished up the barbecue and had a delicious dinner together. She’s great company. We even took a walk over to King Street for ice cream, with Joshua and Max in tow. Afterwards, we loaded my bike into her van and she drove me home. So even though the day didn’t exactly end the way I hoped it would, I enjoyed it all the same.”
Thomas smiled at the innuendo. “I’m glad you understood. So what brings you here?”
“I just finished my final pre summit briefing with the President and his national security advisors. We went over the location of the nearest U.S. Navy assets during the crossing, and then I showed them some very interesting satellite reconnaissance photos recently shot over the South China Sea.”
“Are Taiwan and China at it again?”
“We can’t really say for sure, Thomas. And since the story’s going to break on tonight’s evening news, I guess I can share it with you.
“Yesterday, during a routine pass over southeastern Asia, one of our Big Birds picked up an unusual flurry of activity taking place at the PLA Navy installation at Yulin. Four surface vessels, including a Ling-class salvage ship, were monitored surging into the South China Sea and headed directly toward the Spratlys. These vessels appear to be participating in some sort of underwater search-and rescue mission.”
“Is one of their submarines missing?”
Brittany paused a moment before answering. “This is totally on the hush, but my intel sources tell me that this flotilla is indeed searching for one of their submarines. We believe it’s the Lijiang, China’s newest nuclear-powered attack sub. The vessel was apparently on patrol in the region, and never responded to a pre scheduled communications linkup with command. As far as we can tell, the Lijiang has yet to show itself, and is suspected to have been lost at sea with all hands.”
Thomas grimaced. “Sounds bad. If I remember correctly, the Spratlys was where the PLA Navy tangled with that Philippine frigate several months ago. Who knows, maybe the Lijiang was the victim of hostilities.”
“That’s our greatest fear, with the Philippine Navy not the only possible aggressor. The Chinese claim on the Spratlys remains contested by a number of nations including the Philippines, Vietnam, Malaysia, Brunei, as well as Taiwan and even Japan.”
“What a mess.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Because if it does turn out that the Lijiang was deliberately sunk by one of these countries, the entire region could be engulfed in a full scale war.”
“That would be a great way to start off the G-7 summit,” said Thomas.
“Sounds like my brother is in for an interesting crossing.”
“Speaking of which,” Brittany checked her wristwatch. “I’ve got to get back to the Pentagon. We’re setting up an op center in the CNO’s situation room, to monitor the QE2’s progress from the moment she leaves New York until she ties up in Southampton. If you can spare the time, you’re more than welcome to come by and have a look.”