“And that whole favor payout back-end deal? No issues with that?”
“None. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, and whatever you need, I’m ready.”
Fred’s face didn’t change.
He just admitted to high treason . . . without blinking, Leuchten thought, almost in despair. Jesus. And we had no idea. With all our screening . . . and he’s next to the president every single day. No fucking idea!
“Thank you, Fred, I appreciate the recommendation, and consider that favor repaid. Now, chances are you’ll need a new gigafter this—why don’t you fly on home with me and we’ll set something up for you.”
Fred nodded his head.
“That’s very kind of you, ma’am. I’ll wait outside, if you don’t need anything else?”
The Coach waved her hand toward the home’s front door.
“Sounds good. Bundle up, though. Cold out there.”
Leuchten and Franklin watched as Fred reached inside his coat and removed his badge and gun. He laid them on the dining roomtable, turned, and left without a word, closing the front door behind him.
They turned to look at the Coach, who was staring out the window, still smiling. She never seemed to stop smiling. She reachedout, picked up her glass of scotch, and took a long sip, placing it right back in the ring of condensation on the tabletopwhen she was done.
“Franklin,” Leuchten said. “A word, please.”
He stood up and walked to the front door, snagging his coat as he went. Franklin stood, but turned toward the Coach beforefollowing Leuchten.
“Thank you,” Leuchten heard him say.
“Of course, Jim,” the Coach replied. “Anything for an old friend.”
Leuchten left the house, shrugging on his coat. He looked out at the Coach’s helicopter, where Fred the ex–Secret Serviceagent could be seen through the cockpit’s front windows, waiting patiently. Franklin appeared, closing the door behind him.
“I’ll need your resignation on the president’s desk in the morning, Jim,” Leuchten said.
Franklin’s gaze went very cold.
“And why is that?” he asked.
“You were obviously a member of one of the Coach’s teams at some point in the past. That’s how you know who she is and whatshe can do. The president can’t have people in his administration with conflicting loyalties. You’re out. Honestly, I haveno idea why you told me about her in the first place. You had to know this would come out.”
Franklin’s eyes didn’t move.
“I told you, Anthony, because I am trying to protect my country,” he said. “People are dying. I think those Oracle riots arejust the start. Something enormous is happening, and we need to understand it. Get ahead of it. The Coach seems like our bestshot to do that.”
Franklin took a step closer to him.
“This might be hard for you to understand,” he said, “but I don’t do this job for myself. I do it for the people I can helpby doing it.”
You sanctimonious prick, Leuchten thought. Like I don’t help anyone? I’m trying to save the goddamned world!
“Not anymore,” he said.
“Excuse me?” Franklin replied.
“Not anymore. You don’t do this job at all, in fact. Not once we’re back in DC.”
Franklin smiled, just a little.
“I don’t think it’ll go that way,” he said.
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because I run the best investigative agency in the world, Leuchten. And the first thing I’m going to do when I get back islook up Annie Bridger. Unless you’d rather I put a team on it? I could absolutely do that. You’re the boss.”
Franklin put his hand on the door handle.
“I’ll wait inside while you call the president to go over the Coach’s offer,” he said. “It’s cold as hell out here.”
He pushed open the door.
“Don’t worry about the Coach, Tony. She always gets it done, and she looks after her own.”
Leuchten watched Franklin slip back inside, wondering how the hell he could have been outmaneuvered so utterly and completely.He felt dazed.
The White House chief of staff pulled a secure phone from his pocket and dialed.
“Mr. President,” Leuchten said.
A light snow had begun to fall, filling in the tracks created by the vehicles and the security staff. The scene was extremelypeaceful. The conversation lasted for perhaps ten minutes. Once it was done, Leuchten stood and watched the snow for a moment,then turned and went back inside.
Chapter 11
Will lifted the slip of paper and looked at the computer screen, cross-checking the sequence of numbers and letters writtenon it—thirty-two characters long—against what he’d typed. It looked right.
Will extended his index finger over the enter key. One tap and that was it. No more Oracle.
He looked to either side. Most of the other terminals were occupied, mainly by European tourists checking e-mail and postingto various social networks. He’d spent a fair amount of time in places like this since the Oracle’s debut. The Florida Ladiescalled it a low-tech solution to a high-tech problem: hiding in plain sight by using public Internet access points—cyber cafés,coffee shops, libraries, parks. The sheer number of users online through the same IP address at once helped to disguise hisown use, especially when combined with the anonymizing tools he used to access the Site. Most of the time when he used a terminalat an Internet café, his preferred apps—Tor, IRC, et cetera—were already installed on the machines. Clearly he wasn’t theonly person using these machines for nefarious operations.
No one was looking at him. The end of the Oracle, and they had no idea. Too busy trying to score cheap Broadway tickets andSkyping back home.
The sequence of numbers and letters was a burn code; it would activate a series of programs the Florida Ladies had set upto erase the few bits of data out there that allowed the Site to run—the original pastebin with the predictions, and the e-mailaddress and its end point in New Jersey. They had designed the system so there wouldn’t be very much to connect the Oracleto Will Dando. Once he hit enter, there would be nothing at all.
Will’s hand hovered over the keyboard. He stared at the screen.
His finger moved two inches up to the delete key. He watched as the burn code vanished, character by character, from rightto left. He closed the window,
