“There’s more than one way to do this,” Reeder said, and everyone’s eyes were on him. “President Harrison will be in a chopper when he’s coming and going. Same for Vice President Mitchell. Possible there might be a small window where both copters are in the air at the same time. If you’re the Alliance, and you’ve truly infiltrated everywhere, you might know the itinerary and simply blow them both out of the sky with rocket launchers.”
Reeder’s ominous suggestion hung in the air like stubborn smoke.
Finally Rogers asked, “But how could anybody get away with that? Or with any kind of assault on Camp David? It’s not like a fame-seeking nutcase walks up and shoots the President and dies on the spot — these people want power, not to be apprehended.”
Reeder’s small smile was large with dread. “Azbekistan has the country on edge, everybody from the man in the street to talk-radio demagogues to United States Senators calling for war over the deaths of those CIA agents. How hard would it be to—”
“Blame the Russians,” Rogers said, answering her own question.
“It might well be stage-managed to make that happen,” Reeder said with a shrug. “Russian missiles, Russian arms to take out any motorcade leaving Camp David? Not beyond the realm of possibility.”
No one spoke for a long time.
Then Rogers said, “Just to recap, we think a secret society has already killed eight government employees, may be angling to manipulate the line of presidential succession, and is risking starting World War III in the bargain. And there doesn’t appear to be anything we can do about it. That a pretty fair assessment?”
“I’d say so,” Reeder said. “Of course, you did leave out the part where we have a prisoner who can at least semi-legitimately claim we kidnapped him, and an Assistant Director of the FBI who thinks we’ve gone rogue, and wants to arrest us, which will almost inevitably lead to assassination or prison. So I’d say doing nothing is not an option.”
“We could call Fisk,” Rogers said.
Reeder gave her a sharp look. “Do you trust her?”
“We have to trust somebody.”
Hardesy said, “Down the rabbit hole, and you want to cozy up to the Queen of Hearts.”
“Let’s say, sake of argument, that Patti’s right to trust Fisk,” Reeder said to everyone. “What do we tell her? That we’ve kidnapped a GAO accountant who says there’s an alliance of would-be patriots manipulating the government from within? Better add the booby hatch to the assassination-and-prison list.”
She nodded toward their duct-taped guest. “We have proof.”
Reeder asked, “But if Lawrence is right, and protecting his life is a virtual impossibility, then what do we have? We need more before we go to Fisk or anybody else.”
“I don’t disagree,” Rogers said glumly. “So what do we do?”
Reeder’s head tilted almost imperceptibly. “We put our friend Lawrence on ice somewhere till we can use him. Nichols took a hell of a blow to the head, so we need to get her off the front line—”
“Do I get a vote?” came Nichols’ voice from across the loft.
Barefoot, a square bandage on her head wound, she had slipped into a pair of DeMarcus’s jeans that came mid-calf, belt cinched tight, and a Georgetown T-shirt knotted under her breasts.
“Anne,” Reeder said, “it’s not a democracy. But come join us.”
She did, finding room on the couch. “Joe, you may be in charge, but you really don’t have much choice. I’ve heard most of this discussion, and it’s clear this is the big game and you can’t afford to keep me on the bench.”
He raised a hand in a “patience” gesture.
Then he said, “Patti, you’ll recall the cabin where we met up with my daughter Amy and her boyfriend, at the windup of the Supreme Court investigation?”
“Of course,” Rogers said.
Reeder’s late friend Gabriel Sloan — Rogers’ onetime FBI partner — had left the family cabin in the Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains to his goddaughter.
“Miggie, Patti will help you pull that location up on a map. You and Anne take Lawrence there. You three should be safe... but take plenty of firepower.”
“So I’m on guard duty?” Nichols asked, frowning.
“Come on, Joe,” Miggie said, almost whining, “I’m more than just the fastest computer in the East, you know.”
“Anne, our prisoner is the only proof we have right now of this conspiracy. Mig, I need you on call for whatever we might need on the information side. Not that you both won’t still be in the line of fire. We have no way of knowing how on top of us these people might be... Everybody cool?”
Both agents nodded. They didn’t look cool, but they nodded.
Reeder wandered over to the prisoner. He said, “Lawrence, buddy, you need to give us something. We’re going to make every effort to keep you alive, but if something goes wrong... in which case we’ll have lost these two fine agents in addition to your sorry-ass self... we need a way to verify without you. Give us something we can use.”
“If I’m dead,” he said, with a ghastly smile, “I no longer have any skin in the game. Good luck to you, though.”
“Sometimes you’re a hard man to like, Lawrence.”
“If I give you something now, they’ll track me down and kill me — with the rest of you.”
“Not if we take them down first.”
Morris began to laugh, tears quickly flowing. “You just don’t get it, do you? Even if you knew every name on the board, and arrested them, the movement would go on. Those chairs will always be filled. Joe McCarthy, Barry Goldwater, various media moguls, Gregory Bennett post-White House, the Blount dynasty, there’s always a board of directors for the Alliance.”
“Turn a bright enough light on, Lawrence, and watch the roaches scatter.”
“To their hiding place. And you don’t really get rid of them at all, do you?”
“Hey!” Miggie called from across the room.
Reeder rejoined the team in the home theater area. Miggie said, “I just got an e-mail from Ivanek.”
“How did you manage that?” Rogers asked, frowning. “He’s out of the burner loop.”
“I’ve been hacking my work e-mail every hour or so, remember. Mostly I’m seeing Fisk memos saying come in toot sweet. But now here’s Ivanek.”
Rogers asked, “He’s at work?”
“Think so,” Miggie said. “Anyway, the e-mail is from his office account. He says Fisk has gone ballistic and he would ‘respectfully like to know what the hell is going on?’”
Reeder said, “If I call him, how fast can it be traced if we’re on the move?”
Miggie said, “Maybe two minutes, tops. Keep it under a minute and you should be safe enough.”
“Okay. Lucas, you and Reg help get Miggie loaded up in your car.”
“You got it,” Hardesy said, and he and Wade followed Miggie to the computer area to start packing up gear.
Reeder said to Rogers, “You and I, plus Reggie and Lucas, will investigate the Alliance as best we can. In that history lesson he blurted, Lawrence mentioned some current players.”
“Ex-President Bennett,” Rogers said, nodding, “and the Blounts. And young Nicky is on that presidential succession list.”
Wade, hands on his hips, towering over them, said, “We’re maybe five minutes from our pictures being on TV with a BOLO warning sayin’ we’re armed and dangerous. You think we can get close to any of the Blounts or Bennett without getting arrested or maybe shot down?”