"Yes, it's impressive, isn't it?"
"You could say that."
"In case of a nuclear attack, this bunker was constructed to oversee response operations."
"Response operations?"
Emily nodded. "Retaliation. Now, though, we don't have as many nuclear threats as we used to, so this room has been altered. The commander in chief can still monitor our nuclear arsenal from here, but modern times call for more clandestine approaches."
"Like when they took out that terrorist a few years ago in Pakistan."
"Correct. There's a similar bunker in Colorado, at NORAD. In fact, NORAD was built for this purpose, but then we got to thinking if the president couldn't get out of Washington in time, it would be good to have a home base of operations, right under his actual home."
"Good thinking," Adriana said, still staring in disbelief at all the lights, screens, and gizmos."
"We think so," a familiar man's voice said.
They turned to the right and saw Dawkins appear from one of the control room's side offices.
His face beamed with delight, especially at Emily.
"Mr. President," Emily said, "we have some disturbing information. Is the secretary of state here?"
Puzzled, Dawkins tilted his head to the side with eyebrows furrowed and forehead wrinkled. "No," he said. "Foster left hours ago. Said he had something pressing come up."
"You're sure he's out of the building?" Adriana asked.
The question only served to add to the president's confusion. "Yes, I'm quite sure. Why? What's this all about?"
Emily grabbed him by the wrist. "Come with me."
The surprised look on his face was mirrored by the Secret Service agent standing by the door. Before the young man could stop Emily, Dawkins waved him off, reassuring him that it was going to be okay.
Emily, Adriana, and the president stepped into a small office set into the back. Emily closed the door and looked around, sweeping the place with her eyes to make sure nothing out of the ordinary was sitting in the open.
"Looking for bugs?" Dawkins asked. "Because this room is clean. Anything said in here is only heard by those present."
"You're sure?" Emily asked.
Dawkins chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure. What's all this about? And why were you asking about Kent Foster?"
Adriana and Emily exchanged a sidelong glance.
"Go ahead," Adriana said with an outstretched palm.
"Okay," Emily said. "Sir, we have reason to believe that Kent Foster is the one behind the assassination attempt."
His eyebrows jerked in surprise. If the accusation hadn't been accompanied by such a serious face, he might have laughed.
"I'm sorry. Is this some kind of joke?" All he needed to see was Emily's stern face before he knew the answer. "Are you serious? Foster? Why? What possible motive could he have?"
"Sir," Adriana broke in, "we will fill you in on all the details later. Right now, we need to know where Foster is. Do you know where he went?"
The president looked baffled. "No. Not exactly. He said he had to attend a security briefing."
"And you don't know where that briefing is taking place?" Emily asked.
"No. I don't usually keep strict tabs on my cabinet members."
"We need to find him. Foster is the primary shareholder in an energy company called Transcorp."
"I'm aware of that, Emily."
"And you're also aware that if the government were to dismantle TVA and force it to go private that would open up a massive market for energy companies?"
Dawkins didn't see where this was going, but he kept pulling the string to the sweater. "I have no plans to dismantle TVA. They have the best power rates in the country for consumers. I'd lose the entire Southeast if I did that. Besides, if it ain't broke, don't fix it."
Normally, his Southern adages brought a smile or a bit of laughter. In this case, he was dead serious.
"Yes, but if you were out of the way, your vice president is a much more malleable person. With the proper influence, he could be convinced to sway Congress to Foster's side."
Dawkins shook his head, dismissing the notion. "The secretary of state doesn't always get involved with domestic affairs like that. I have another person in charge of those kinds of things. So even if I were gone and the vice president was running the show, Foster would be too busy with foreign affairs and national security."
"Except for the fact that he's been here, with you, for the last few weeks."
She made a good point. Foster had been hanging around more than usual. That didn't necessarily mean he was guilty.
"The man the police killed outside the hotel, the one they're accusing of being the trigger man, he had ties to Transcorp," Adriana said. "We found bank accounts in Nicaragua and Costa Rica with huge sums of money sent from other offshore accounts."
"Go on," the president said with piqued interest.
"So, the deposits all came from Transcorp. Not directly. They were funneled through several dummy accounts before landing in those two places. The real kicker was that after Kendricks was killed, just hours later, someone visited those banks and took the money out. It's gone, and there's no way to trace who took it."
"Wait a minute," Dawkins said, holding up his hand. "You're saying that Kendricks was a fall guy?"
"That's not all, sir," Emily said. "The truth is, we don't know who we can trust. Not even with some of your closest advisers."
Dawkins's face continued to get longer and longer with every additional piece of information. The final comment did him in. Forlorn, he crossed his arms and eased into a desk chair near the window looking out into the control room.
"And you're positive about all this?" he asked.
"Unfortunately," Emily said. "But we're sure your Secret Service men aren't in on it. There may be police and some other advisers, though we have no way of knowing right now. A full investigation will begin in earnest as soon as we make sure you're safe."
"I'm not leaving the White House," Dawkins said. "The last thing I can do right now is project weakness. We shot a press conference earlier. It looks just like our press room above ground. As far as the American people are concerned, I'm still here and doing my job as normal. If I venture out, that might send the wrong message."
"I'm more worried about your safety than a message, Mr. President."
He sighed. "You don't have to call me that, Emily."
"We're at work, Mr. President."
"Is that work Emily or personal Emily that's worried about my safety?"
"It's both, sir. If you're not going to leave, then I am staying with you."
He smirked at the threat. "If you think that's going to get me to go with you, you may want to rethink your strategy. Besides, we will be going back up top in the morning. All the security sweeps have detected no danger. The White House will resume normal business first thing tomorrow."
"Fine. Just promise me you won't let Foster near the building. He's a snake in the grass. He already struck once. Don't give him another chance."
"Very well," Dawkins said with resignation. "I'll alert security."
"There's more, sir."
"More?" Dawkins said as his eyebrows lifted.
"Yes, sir. Someone redirected the calls coming into Axis from Sean's number as well as areas where he was known to be operating, such as western New York. The phone they were sent to is most likely a burner. I doubt we can connect it to anyone on paper. Our cameras, however, were able to help us ID the person who put the device on the lines outside our building."
"You have a positive ID?"
"Yes, sir. His name is Mark Pinkton."
"Never heard of him."
Adriana and Emily exchanged a knowing glance. Emily pulled a folder out of her bag and passed it to the president.
He opened it and looked at the images at the top of a stack.
"That is Pinkton standing next to a CIA operative named Drew Porter."