The president raised his hand in a signal to stop.
"Fred," the president ordered, "call off the invasion of Suriname."
"Call it off, Mr. President?" Secretary of Defense Beiderman asked. "A complete stand-down?"
"I don't want those F-15s shooting down a Surinamese airplane. I don't care what you call it, just see that it's done."
"Yes, Mr. President," Beiderman said and walked toward a credenza that held two telephones.
"Or the CIA blowing one up on the ground," the president went on as if to himself. He picked up a telephone handset from the coffee table, said, "Get me the DCI. I'll hold."
It took less than twenty seconds to get the director of Central Intelligence on the line.
"This is the president, John. Now, listen carefully, as I have time neither to repeat myself nor explain nor debate it. I want no action of any kind taken in Suriname. None. Period. I'll get back with you shortly and explain this, but, right now, I want you to call off whatever you may have planned. Thank you."
He hung up.
He exhaled, looked around the room, smiled at Sergeant Schneider and Major Miller, and then had another thought, which caused the smile to fade.
"And how did the mayor of Philadelphia react on being informed that we still have a little problem with the Liberty Bell?" he asked.
"I didn't tell him, Mr. President," Matt Hall said. "He would have immediately gone on TV and ordered the evacuation of Center City Philadelphia."
"Jesus!" the president said. "Well, he's going to find out sooner or later. How do we deal with that?"
"There's no reason he ever has to find out, Mr. President," Hall said.
The president's eyebrows rose in surprise and it was a moment before he asked, "Presuming we can neutralize the real airplane, right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Worst-case scenario, the airplane leaves Costa Rica and makes it to Tampa, where we grab it on the ground," Hall said.
"That presumes they won't have a change of mind en route and fly it into a cruise ship parked in Miami Harbor, Disney World, or some other target that makes about as much sense. We have to do better than that, Matt," the president said.
"Shoot it down the minute it leaves Costa Rica," Beiderman said. "Over international waters."
"What we are going to try to do," the president said, "is quietly neutralize it on the ground in Costa Rica. I emphasize the word quietly. Is there any reason Gray Fox can't be trusted to do that?"
"Presuming we can find the airplane in Costa Rica, no, sir."
"Gray Fox is presently airborne on its way to Suriname, Mr. President," Secretary Beiderman said.
"I called the invasion of Suriname off," the president said, and now there was a very nasty tone in his voice. "Weren't you here when I gave that order, Fred?"
"Sir, normally we have instantaneous communication with a Gray Fox transport. But, at the moment, there's a glitch. It happens, sir. Sunspots: other things."
"You mean we are not in contact with Gray Fox?"
"For the moment, no, sir."
"How far is it away from Suriname?" the president asked.
"Several hours, sir."
"Between now and the time it gets to Suriname, Mr. Secretary of Defense, I want you to get word to General McNab that he is to divert to Costa Rica, there to await further orders in connection with his original mission. Jesus Christ, Fred, send F-15s after him and force him to turn around if that becomes necessary."
"Yes, sir. Where in Costa Rica, Mr. President?"
"General McNab is a resourceful fellow. Why don't we let him decide that?"
The door to the Oval Office opened.
"Mr. President, the Speaker is here," the chief of staff said.
"Well, for the moment we're finished here," the president said. "But I'd like everybody to keep themselves available."
"Why don't we all go to my office," Natalie Cohen said, "and have a cup of coffee and a Danish?"
[FIVE]
Office of the National Security Advisor
The White House
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, D.C.
1150 10 June 2005
"I'm going to the situation room," Secretary of Defense Fred Beiderman announced. "I feel like a schoolboy in here, waiting to be called back to the principal's office. Maybe they've managed to reestablish contact with McNab. Anyone want to go with me?"
"I will," Secretary of Homeland Security Matthew Hall said.
"I thought I would take Betty and Major Miller to the executive mess for lunch," National Security Advisor Dr. Natalie Cohen said.
"Good idea," Hall said. "We'll meet you there."
"Secretary Hall," Major H. Richard Miller, Jr., said. "May I have a minute, sir?"
"Shoot," Hall said.
"Alone, sir. If you would, please, sir."
"You want to wait, Fred, or should I catch up with you?" Hall asked.
"Catch up with me," Beiderman said. "I'll walk slow."
He went through the door.
"I'll take Betty and leave you two alone," Dr. Cohen said.
"You can hear this, ma'am," Miller said. "I just didn't want Secretary Beiderman to hear it. I just realized he will anyway, so it doesn't make any sense:"
"Neither are you making any sense, Major," Hall said.
"It's about getting through to General McNab, sir. I don't think all the communication is down."
"I don't understand," Hall said.
"Sir, I've been on missions like this one. When it gets close to doing something: there's often a link that goes down."
"I don't understand," Hall said.
"I think I do," Natalie Cohen said. "There is a point in time after which, thank you just the same, General McNab doesn't want anyone looking over his shoulder offering friendly advice? He wants to get on with the job?" Yes, ma am.
"Now, you know why he didn't want Fred to hear this," Cohen said and turned back Miller. "You know how to get through to him?"
"Usually, he leaves the imagery link open," Miller said.
"I don't know what that means," Hall said.
"It means he's still able to receive an image. Some people know that," Miller said. "If it's important, they'll send him one."
"An image? A picture?" Hall asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Of what?" Hall asked.
"Of a message. Right, Major?" Dr. Cohen asked.
"Yes, ma'am."
"You're saying you can get through to him with an image of a message?" Hall asked. When Miller nodded, Hall added, "Well, we're going to have to tell Beiderman that, of course."
"Maybe not," Natalie Cohen said. "Would he take a message from you, Major?"
"Yes, ma'am, I think he would."
"How would that work?"
"I'd write the message here, fax it out to the Nebraska Avenue place, and tell the operator to send it," Miller said.
"Nebraska Avenue?"
"Castillo set up a Gray Fox radio out there," Hall said.
Dr. Cohen pulled open a drawer of her desk, took out a sheet of paper, and handed it and a ballpoint pen to Miller.
"Go," she said.
"Ma'am, have you got a felt-tip, a Magic Marker? I need something big."
"Coming up," she said and went back to her desk drawer.
"Thank you," Miller said. "Mr. Secretary, I'm going to need the numbers, fax and phone, out there."
Hall went into the outer office, where Isaacson and McGuire were waiting.
"I need the numbers, phone and fax, for Nebraska Avenue," he said.
By the time Isaacson had retrieved the numbers from his handheld computer, written them down, given them to Hall, and Hall went back into Cohen's office, Miller had already fed the sheet of paper into the fax machine on the credenza behind Cohen's desk.
He gave them to Miller, who immediately punched them into the fax machine. The machine began to feed itself the paper.
"Did you see that?" Hall asked Cohen.
She shook her head. "No need to," she said.
Miller punched the numbers of the Nebraska Avenue office into his cellular.
"This is Major Miller. I just sent you a fax. Image it to General McNab-now. I'll hold for confirmation of receipt."