“No helipad,” said Danny.
“No, the choppers would have come from further west and north,” said Nuri. “They’re part of an Egyptian-funded initiative. They wouldn’t risk them on the ground here where they’d be potential targets.”
Danny stared at the screen.
“So can we do it?” Nuri asked.
“Maybe. We better ask for permission first.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re not at war with Sudan.”
“You shot down two of their helicopters last night.”
“Only because they were going to kill me if I didn’t.”
“I think we just do it if we can do it,” said Nuri. “That’s why we’re here.”
“We’ll ask anyway,” said Danny.
34
Washington, D.C.
“IF IRAN IS TRYING TO CIRCUMVENT THE AGREEMENT THEY just signed, we should hit them hard with everything we’ve got,” said Secretary of Defense Charles Lovel as the debate about the uranium finding continued. “We should obliterate these weapons plants.”
“We have to find them first,” said Secretary of State Alistair Newhaven. “And what do we do to the ones in another country? Like here, in Sudan. Do we just attack Sudan?”
“Sudan is not one of our allies,” said Lovel. “By any stretch of the imagination. And they’d be thankful we took out the rebels.”
“We’re not at the stage where we can plan a strike,” said the President, ending the discussion. “If we attack one plant, all of the others will be hidden. Clearly, we need to flesh this out. We can discuss the ethics and practicalities at a later date.”
“Preferably before the president of Iran gets here,” said Dr. Bacon.
The President looked across the table at Breanna and Reid. “Good work. Keep it up, please.”
“Mrs. President, I did want to point out one thing,” said CIA Director Edmund. “The operation started with a very small group.” Edmund chose his words carefully, trying to find a diplomatic way of suggesting that Whiplash be pushed aside. “Time being of the essence, I would suggest that we’re now at a point where the operation has exceeded their ability to handle it.”
“Is that so?” President Todd looked directly at Breanna.
“I think we can continue to coordinate things under the present arrangement,” said Breanna. “Jonathon has a great deal of expertise. We have excellent people in the field. They should remain in the lead.”
“This is going to be too big for the Whiplash unit to handle,” said Edmund. He turned to Reid. “Don’t you agree, Jonathon?”
The tone in Edmund’s voice would have intimidated many people. But if Reid had been one of them, he never would have been invited back to the CIA in the first place.
“There is difficulty in changing horses in midstream,” he said. “I would suggest that the CIA work on fleshing out the larger network, while Whiplash concentrates on the implications of what it has discovered. The situation is still developing. The team should be allowed to continue following it to its logical extreme—if only for expediency’s sake.”
Edmund frowned, but part of him couldn’t help admiring the art of Reid’s reply. “Who’s in charge?” he asked.
“The President,” said Reid.
It was a dodge—Edmund meant of the overall operation, and Reid knew it—but mention of the President stopped any further discussion.
“Continue as we were,” she said. “Whiplash follows the trail it has discovered. Mr. Edmund—your agency will coordinate a broader search and intelligence operation. I want an update on the situation every twelve hours. Now please, Breanna, Jonathon—we have some other items on our agenda, and I’m afraid we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
“THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING ME,” BREANNA SAID AS THEY walked back to his car.
“Supporting us both, I believe.”
“You stood up to your boss.”
“That’s my job, really. He doesn’t mind, too much…but…” Reid let the word hang there for a moment. “…if this thing does get too big, then we hand it off.”
“Absolutely.”
“No ego.”
“None. Well, maybe a little.”
Reid laughed. So did Breanna.
Their laughter was short-lived. Breanna’s secure satellite phone rang as she got into the car. It was Danny, who used the Voice’s communication module to call her.
“Yes?”
“We have a situation,” he told her. “And an opportunity.”
Danny explained where Tarid was and what they hoped to do.
“Are you sure you can get him out?” Breanna asked when he finished.
“I can’t be giving out guarantees like that. I think I can, or I wouldn’t have called. I may be able to do it without the Sudanese army taking any casualties, if luck runs with us. But that’s a big if. I can’t guarantee anything. There’s a village nearby—again, I’m not guaranteeing anything. Once things start happening, a lot of their soldiers may die.”
Breanna turned to Reid. “They found the subject. He’s being held in camp about fifty miles from the battle site. They want to follow him.”
“That’s what they should be doing,” said Reid.
“The Sudanese army is guarding him,” Breanna said. “Do you think we could get them to release him?”
“Given the state of relations between our countries, I’d say there’s no chance at all.”
Breanna covered the phone. “They have a plan to get him out, but Danny’s concerned that some of the Sudanese soldiers will be killed if things go wrong.”
“We have to be ruthless in this game.”
Breanna wondered if it was really that easy for him. There were, of course, many arguments in favor of getting Tarid out, even if it did mean casualties among the Sudanese regulars. An atomic bomb would threaten millions. But somehow she felt the calculus should take more time.
“If they think they can get him out and follow him to the other elements in this chain,” Reid added, “we should urge them to do so.”
Breanna put the phone back to her head.
“Do it.”
BREANNA CHECKED WITH ZEN ON THE WAY BACK TO HER office, making sure that Teri was all right. Zen’s report was filled with his usual optimism and humor; according to him, Teri had charmed the staff and would no doubt have been running the place if he’d let her. Since it was too late to return to school by the time the X rays—“very negative,” said the doctor—were done and read, Zen had taken her back to his office, where Teri did a little homework and research on the Web before heading home with him.
“Research meaning sending text messages to her friends?” Breanna asked.
“We have a rule in the Senate,” replied Zen. “We only text enemies.”
“Har-har.”
“When are you coming home?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“No sweat. Teri and I have dinner covered. I’m thinking spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Again?”
“It’s the chef’s favorite dinner. And I don’t mind it, either.”
“All right.” Breanna glanced to the left, suddenly conscious of Reid. “I’ll probably be home around six. Maybe seven.”
“Which means nine, right?”
“Close to seven.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Breanna clicked off the call and returned her cell phone to her pocketbook.
“Tough job with a family,” said Reid.
“It can be,” she admitted.