Allison was startled by the president’s voice, as well as his odd, almost formal introduction. She turned to face the screen. “Mr. President, I need to speak to you about operation Three Kings.” She noticed Hruska and Metzger standing at the rear of the president’s cabin. “Alone,” she added.
“There’s nothing to discuss, Allison. I’ve ordered the strike to destroy the casings on the ground while we still can.”
Allison noticed neither Hruska nor Metzger budged an inch. “You’ve ordered a nuclear strike against three American cities! Three cities! There are still innocent people on the ground who haven’t been evacuated!”
“It had to be done, Allison. I had no other choice.”
“Negative. There are always alternatives! You learned that after the Cleveland attack, didn’t you? Nuking every Middle Eastern capital was the easy answer, but you knew there had to be another way.”
“This is different. Our country is dying. We have to act now, before it’s too late and—”
“I need to speak to you alone, Andrew.” She’d never called the president by his first name unless they’d been alone. Never. But she had to get through to him.
For a moment, Andrew’s face drew a blank. He was obviously confused. “I… I can’t do that.”
“Why, Andrew?”
“I can’t.”
Allison addressed the two people in the shadows. “Ms. Hruska, General Metzger, I need you to remove yourselves from the president’s cabin. This is a private conversation, starting now.”
“Allison…” the president said. “I… They have to stay.”
That’s it, she decided. It was time.
Allison stared intently into her screen, and into the eyes of someone she didn’t entirely recognize anymore. She hoped at least a part of the man she’d known as President Andrew Smith still remained somewhere behind those blank, confused eyes. “Mr. President, Andrew, I need to ask you a question.”
Allison watched Hruska emerge from the shadows. “The president is fatigued, Madame Vice President. This conversation has gone on long enou—”
“Who are you, his fucking nursemaid now? Andrew, are the Aussies on board with this?”
The president’s face revealed a moment of clarity. “Are the Aussies on board with this? Of course they are. The Aussies are on board.”
Allison immediately cut the secure comm channel.
She’d heard all she needed to hear.
The commander reentered the cabin, carrying a locked briefcase. “The Eagle Seven Four comm codes, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Commander.” Entering a combination known only by the vice president of the United States, Allison unlocked the case.
Inside was a plain manila folder holding a single sheet of paper signed by President Andrew Smith. “Commander, I need you to play back the final portion of my conversation with the president.” She handed the single sheet to the naval officer.
With the push of a button, the commander listened to the president’s words. He verified them against what was printed on the single sheet of paper and handed it back to the vice president.
“Verified, ma’am.” He slipped a chain from under his uniform blouse. At the end of the chain hung a small metal key.
From her blouse, Allison removed a similar key hanging on a similar chain.
Using separate keys, they unlocked a small metal box inside the briefcase. Inside was a laminated card with a five-character code word imprinted on its face in bold, black letters.
“This needs to go worldwide. All comm systems, in the clear.” Allison handed the card to the commander. “After transmission, I need a Flash Immediate Decision Conference with all ground and airborne command and control nodes. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And find out where the hell Air Force One is.” Just in case, she thought, hoping it wouldn’t come to that.
She glanced at her watch.
One — possibly two — of the bombers would be in the air by now.
She hoped she wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER 64
“Andrew?”
He didn’t answer.
“Andrew! What did she mean?”
The president seemed confused, unable to focus. His body had gone slack in his chair after he’d spoken to Perez. “Jessie?” he said. “I… I don’t understand…”
“Answer me!” She slapped him. Hard.
The president’s head snapped back, a small string of saliva hanging from the corner of his mouth.
“She asked you if the Aussies were on board. What did she mean?”
The president stared at her like a dog that had just felt its master’s boot in the ribs, not understanding what it had possibly done wrong.
General Metzger leaned against the wall of the cabin. He casually lit a cigarette. “You’ve used too much. He’s too far gone.” The first puff of smoke from his lungs obscured his face.
“Bullshit. He’s still here.” Jessie leaned closer. “Andrew, I need you to talk to me. I need you to talk to me now, okay?”
“Jessie? What did… I do… wrong?”
She cupped his face in her hands, holding his head steady so he had to look directly into her eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Andrew. But she said something to you, the vice president said something to you, and I need to know what it meant.”
Andrew stared at her. One pupil slightly larger than the other. No response whatsoever.
Another puff of smoke. “It’s not going to work. He’s fried.”
Jessie stood. The president’s chin dropped to his chest. “He shouldn’t be this way.”
“He’s weak. You overestimated him.” Through the cloud of smoke, the ash tip burned bright for a second, and then disappeared.
“No! He’s one of the strongest men I’ve ever met — I had to use more. But there’s something wrong.”
“Okay, so you say he’s not weak, but here we are, flying on Air Force One with a head of lettuce sitting on the throne of the free world, drooling all over himself.” Metzger dropped his cigarette into a water glass, the hot ash dying with a sharp hiss. “You’re the goddamned national security advisor. What the hell did they mean? Are the Aussies on board? We don’t consult with Australia when we order a nuclear strike!”
It didn’t make any sense to her.
Are the Aussies on board with this?
Of course they are. The Aussies are on board.
Suddenly, she knew.
There was no other explanation.
“That bitch! It was a code phrase! It was a fucking code!” He’s still in there, all right, she thought. Andrew — or at least a small part of the man he’d once been — was still in there, floating behind the curtain of obedience she’d wrapped around his mind. He’d reacted to the vice president’s words, momentarily breaking through the curtain in response to the phrase Perez had spoken.
Are the Aussies on board with this?
Quite to Jessie’s disbelief, Andrew still possessed the strength of mind to act on his own, to speak with his own voice. If only for a few seconds.
Of course they are. The Aussies are on board.
He’d communicated something to the vice president, using a simple phrase. Something preplanned. Understood by both, but by no others. A challenge. And a reply.
“A code? For what?”
“I’m not sure. A recall?” she asked.
“Impossible. The bombers have received their orders. There’s no stopping them unless the president directs them to abort the mission using the same process he used to launch them. The order has to go through the proper channels. It has to come from him. I could get on the horn to the pilots right now and order them to return to base, and they would just give me the finger. As long as the commander in chief is alive, they won’t take orders from anyone else. Not even the vice president.”