“A shit storm, like usual. All trading was suspended on the stock market today, and the world markets are diving everywhere. No doubt we’re going to be heading for a major worldwide recession, if not depression,” Evans said, shaking his head.
Jeremiah continued. “The president is shutting down all of the shopping malls, and everywhere in the country people are to avoid places of public assemblage. And he finally decided to shut down the airlines. It’s about time. This Ballantine guy is going after everything.”
“So much for our twenty-four-hour respite,” she said.
“We’ve mobilized the Reserves and the National Guard, but there’s really no plan for dealing with something like this. We’ll be making it up as we go.”
“That’s reassuring,” Meredith said.
“Right, but we’ve got Special Forces Command as well as all of Fort Bragg going over contingency plans right now. There are some leads, but they’re rather thin. Problem is that we’ve committed the bulk of our forces abroad. Not much left to deal with stuff at home.”
“Not much of the elite ones anyway,” she said, remembering Zachary.
“We’ve also picked up a low-flying airplane moving up the St. Lawrence River. Could be Ballantine. Actually the Canadians found it first. We’re sending some jets up there now to check it out.”
“Good. Good,” Meredith said.
“Here’s your briefing packet. The vice president wants his update in the mansion tonight for some reason.”
“That’s unusual, but he’s the boss,” she said, shrugging. She knew exactly what he wanted.
She grabbed the packet and rifled through its contents. On one PowerPoint slide was a map of the country with little red starbursts indicating the locations of attacks. Having it graphically displayed made an impact on her, allowing her to see the genius of the attacker. North Carolina, Minnesota, Georgia, Arkansas, Colorado, Washington State. It was diverse and unpredictable. It was terrifying.
“Okay, let me go do the deed,” she said, shaking her head. While they understood her to mean one thing, her comment actually meant more than what they gathered.
She walked across the parking lot, carrying the manila folder, following a stone sidewalk that led from the cabins to the mansion. Black, wrought-iron gas lamps lit her way as she ascended the steps to the mansion. The spring evening was mild with just a hint of chill in the air.
She rang the doorbell and waited, then rang again. She looked through the window to the side of the door and could see no lights on in the front of the house.
She had been here before and knew he wouldn’t want her waiting on the porch. So she let herself into the home and quickly punched the security code on the pad in the coat closet. She paused, took off her coat, and then hung it in the closet next to some others, including a few of his wife’s coats. A bolt of guilt shot through her but quickly ran its course.
Meredith had rationalized this a long time ago and had convinced herself that it was the right thing to do. She was wearing a turquoise business suit with a diamond butterfly broach and matching earrings. Her hair was up in a bun, because he liked it that way. The small Rolex watch that he had given her slid gently on her wrist as she walked into the large foyer and then into the den. She flipped a light switch and then threw the manila folder onto the coffee table.
She noticed that she was more nervous this time than she had been the others. Her mind quickly flashed back to a year ago when the secretary of defense had invited her to his house. She had refused. With Hellerman, though, it was different. She was a willing participant in the affair. As they got to know each other, she became completely infatuated with his vision and plans for reuniting America. Meredith was a patriot, and she was devoted to both the vice president and his special cause to bring the country back together.
But now, after today, she wanted to call it all off. She was going to tell Hellerman she still loved Matt.
She moved around the room like a cat, regaining familiarity with her surroundings. She stopped in front of the large fireplace, the slate rock chimney climbing all the way to the vaulted ceiling. A Civil War-era musket hung above the hearth with a powder horn on one side and a bugle on the other. The entire room was tastefully done, reflective of Hellerman’s personality and past professions. There were the appropriate law books in the study, international relations books in the bookcase in the living room, and assorted paintings depicting faraway lands scattered throughout the home.
Meredith waited another fifteen minutes and thought about departing but decided against it. Walking into the kitchen, she noticed the door to the basement was slightly ajar with a hint of light seeping from below. She tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ears as she did when she became focused and peered down the dimly lit stairway.
Having just watched the movie Scream for the first time a few weeks before, she laughed at herself for feeling nervous. Here she was in the home of the second most powerful man in the world. Security systems were everywhere, and the Secret Service stood watch out front. What could happen to her?
She stepped slowly down the steps, pulling at the beaded chain hanging to the right and causing the single light bulb to flash on next to her head. She found the concrete basement floor and turned toward a small room in the far corner. Having never been down there before, she felt as though she was violating the vice president’s privacy a bit, but she pressed on anyway.
She pushed on the wooden door to a small room, and the weak light became somewhat brighter, giving her a full view of what looked like a military operations control center. Radios were banked atop one another, and two television screens showed news channels.
On the wall was a white dry-erase board on which someone had marked the days of the current week and the next week. Red slashes were through the days that had already passed and a list of events was itemized in each box representing a day. Last Friday’s box, she noticed, had Mall of America, Lennox Square/Phipps Plaza, Charlotte Coliseum, Capitol Building Tallahassee, Florida, Puget Sound Apartment Tower/Seattle. The next day had similar events. Hellerman was clearly using the board to track what had happened and keep tabs on the events.
But she had never seen this set-up before. She figured he probably came down here to study the patterns, being a former military intelligence officer. She knew it helped her sometimes to get away from the maelstrom and insulate herself so that she could follow her own instincts instead of the leanings of so many others. She remembered listening intently to his stories of interrogating high-ranking prisoners during the first Persian Gulf War. She assumed he felt comfortable in this kind of closed-in environment with the radios and maps.
She smiled when she realized she really did admire the man. As she scanned the room, her eyes drifted to the desk and chair. There was a laptop computer with its monitor shut atop the keyboard next to the bank of phones. Next to the computer was a pad of paper and it appeared the vice president had been doodling some circles and the letters RW. The letters were bored into the paper exactly twice. RW RW, overlapping almost.
Huh, Meredith thought, with a twinge of jealousy. Who could that be?
Their relationship truly started when Hellerman had asked her to work on his Rebuild America plan. He had pulled together the likes of Rockfish, Smithers, Evans, Jeremiah, and O’Hara. The group was focused on the best way to bring the country together again and shed the many divisions. It was all about defeating the secular spiritual stagnation that his favorite author, Walt Rostow, had predicted.