“This is Director Stansfield. I just received your message, and I’m a little confused.”
Liz clutched the phone tightly and tried to stay calm.
“I know everything. I know all about how Higgins and Nance and Garret were behind the-” Stansfield cut her off. “We don’t need to get into specifics, Miss Scarlatti. Where are you calling from?” Stansfield had no desire to discuss this issue on an open line. “What does that matter?” Liz heard a click at the front door and her heart leapt. She looked down the hall hoping to see Michael, but instead Tim and Seamus came through the door.
“I need to know if you’re on a secure line,” said Stansfield. Liz looked at the phone and said, “I doubt it, and I really don’t care.” Tim and Seamus entered the kitchen and listened to Liz talk. “Congressman Michael O’Rourke is missing from his house, and if he isn’t returned within the next hour, I am going to wire every news service on the planet the real story about what has been going on in Washington over the last week.” Seamus’s eyes opened wide.
“Who are you talking to?” Liz turned her back on Seamus and Tim and covered her other ear. “Hold on a minute,” continued Stansfield. “How do you know Congressman
O’Rourke is missing?”
“I’m standing in his kitchen with his brother and grandfather,” shouted Liz. “He is gone, and if you don’t return him within the hour, your little secret is going to be on the front page of every paper tomorrow morning.”
“I have no idea where Congressman O’Rourke is,” protested Stansfield.
“Well, you’d better find him. You have one hour.” Liz slammed the phone back into its cradle.
Stansfield stared at the receiver and shook his head. Kennedy pressed a button and spoke briefly into the phone. When she was done, she looked at her boss and said, “The call was made from O’Rourke’s house.”
Stansfield pinched the bridge of his nose. “It has to be Nance and Garret.” Stansfield slowly shook his head from side to side as he continued to keep pressure on his nose.
“What in the hell are those two idiots up to?”
“Any chance the call was a fake?” asked Kennedy. “I doubt it.”
Stansfield looked at Kennedy and grabbed his phone. “I’m going to call the President and find out if he knows where his chief of staff and national security adviser are.”
Stansfield punched in the number for the Secret Service command post at the White
House. After several rings an agent answered and Stansfield identified himself. “I need to speak to the President immediately.” Stansfield tapped a pen on a pad of paper while he
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waited to be connected. After several clicks the President answered. “Thomas, what’s wrong?”
“We seem to have a problem, sir.”
Stansfield relayed the pertinent facts of his conversation with Scarlatti, but referred to her only as a reporter. The President let out a loud sigh and said, “For Christ sake… why would anyone want to take O’Rourke?” Stansfield did not respond. He instead chose to put the pressure on the President and see just how genuine his reaction was. “I can’t believe this. I thought this mess was over. Who would take him?” repeated an exasperated Stevens. “We’re not sure.”
“Thomas, you have my authority to do whatever it takes to get Congressman
O’Rourke back, and make sure that tape isn’t released!”
Stansfield paused for a moment and then asked, “Sir, do you know where your national security adviser and chief of staff are?” President Stevens didn’t answer immediately. The connection between O’Rourke’s disappearance and Stansfield’s question was obvious. “No, but I’m sure as hell going to find out! I’ll call you back!” The
President slammed the phone down and screamed for the nearest Secret Service agent.
Stansfield put the phone down and tried to gauge the President’s reaction. Stevens seemed genuinely surprised, and there was no need for him to take a chance … unless
Nance had threatened to drag him down.
Stansfield pondered the possibility and decided that until he knew more, he couldn’t trust the President. He picked up the phone and dialed Charlie Dobbs’s extension in the
Operations Center.
Dobbs answered on the first ring, and Stansfield spoke rapidly. “What type of bird do we have over the city right now?” Dobbs hit several buttons on the keyboard to his left, and instantly a map appeared on the screen that marked the orbital path and location of every satellite in the CIA, the National Reconnaissance Office, and the National Security
Agency arsenal. “We currently have”-Dobbs squinted to read the designation that appeared next to the dot hovering above Washington, D.C.—“a KH-11 on station.” The
KH-11 Strategic Response Reconnaissance Satellite could tell the difference between a football and a basketball from a distance of 220 miles above the earth. “Zoom it in on
Mike Nance’s ranch in Maryland, and punch up all the addresses for NSA safe houses in the metro area.”
“Thomas, the people over at the NSA are going to shit when they find out we’re using a big bird to keep an eye on the President’s national security adviser.”
“If they ask, tell them the President authorized it. How long before you have real-time imaging?”
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“It should take no more than three to five minutes.”
