The public’s perception of the Situation Room was what was portrayed on television or the occasional White House photo op disclosed to the media—the imagery of a command center with the long oak table and the clocks ticking indicating time zones around the world. For all its hype and media references, it was simply a large conference room to the left of the entry. The real work of the national security team in the event of a crisis took place in the cubicles. However, the discussions and decision-making took place in the conference room.
The president didn’t always attend the daily briefings held in the Situation Room. Mostly, updates from operations were gathered from military, diplomatic, and intelligence resources around the world. If a matter warranted it, representatives of these various national security divisions of the U.S. government, like Ghost, would be asked to provide senior members of the president’s team further details. They would, in turn, brief the president.
On those rare occasions when POTUS appeared in the Situation Room, the staff would respectfully stand. President Taylor was known to arrive announced for the sole purpose of saying hello to a particular attendee he hadn’t spoken to in a while.
The general public had no idea the federal government employed over two million people. Even with the higher echelon of government agencies, including the Congress, there were thousands of personnel who made important decisions for America. It was not unlikely that a two-term president, having spent eight years in office, didn’t even know the names of these personnel or lawmakers, much less met them. Yet, in some cases, the president was held strictly accountable by the media for their actions.
President Taylor was a recluse. He relied heavily upon his chief of staff, Remy Weber, to filter out the unnecessary, in his mind, superfluous information, in order to boil down an issue for the sake of simplicity.
The attack on the U.S. Embassy in Azerbaijan was more than a breaking crisis. It had global geopolitical implications, and politically, it needed to be handled properly, as the president was already starting to gear up for his reelection run next year.
Ghost broke the ice and spoke first. “Good morning, Mr. President. Everyone.”
“Welcome, Colonel, um, Mr. Smith,” replied Chief of Staff Weber, the president’s mouthpiece for most occasions. “My apologies, Smith. In your line of work, you are no longer referred to by your previous military rank, am I correct?”
“Yes. That’s correct, Mr. Weber.”
Weber motioned for him to sit at the far end of the table. “We’re anxious to hear you elaborate on the materials provided by your staff in the PDB.” The PDB, an acronym for the President’s Daily Brief, was a daily summary of high-level information and analysis on national security issues produced for the president. Compiled and analyzed by the office of the Director of National Intelligence, it was also distributed daily to key cabinet members and advisers.
“Then I’ll get right to it,” said Ghost. He didn’t want to spend any more time in the Situation Room than he had to. Jackal and her assistants had worked round the clock to prepare their insertion into the PDB after Ghost reviewed it. He was confident it was thorough, but he also realized it might raise questions by the president.
“Please do,” said President Taylor, speaking for the first time.
“Mr. President, based upon our investigation that began prior to the embassy attack, we believe there is a connection between the recovery of canisters filled with sarin nerve agent by an unknown team of divers and the bioterror event in Baku. Further, we believe that the group behind the attack may not necessarily be Hamas or any Iranian-sponsored terrorist cell. We believe it’s entirely possible that this group is planning another attack. A bioterror threat, possibly on American soil.”
The president began to thumb through the tabs of the three-inch-thick PDB binder. “Who is this group you’re referring to. Wait. Odessa? Why haven’t they been on our radar before?”
The chief of staff interrupted. “Because, sir, it’s farcical. It’s a previously debunked conspiracy theory about Nazis being resurrected from the dead or some such.”
Ghost was stunned by Weber’s statement. At the very least, his tone of voice was unprofessional and mocking. At most, it pissed on countless hours of research by his team, not to mention the pursuit of intelligence that almost got his Gray Fox operatives killed.
The tone and tenor in the Situation Room was about to change dramatically.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The White House
Situation Room
Washington, DC
Ghost didn’t think much of Weber’s insinuation and especially didn’t appreciate him for diminishing his team’s efforts. He bristled inside, but outwardly, he remained as calm as he was when he walked in the door. Ghost hadn’t risen to his level of importance within America’s dark ops apparatus by showing his cards. He chose to address the president directly.
“Mr. President, our operatives in the field as well as our analysts have developed a working theory, much like the FBI would, to identify possible perpetrators of the attack on the U.S. Embassy. In the course of our investigation, we’ve uncovered evidence of a connection between the sarin nerve agent canisters on the U-boat wreckage and the sarin used in the embassy attack.”
Before the president could comment on Ghost’s statement, Remy Weber became combative, adopting a prosecutorial approach to the discussion. As a result, a noticeable tension filled the air as the other attendees sat back and watched.
“Mr. Smith, we don’t have time to engage in conspiracy theory, especially those promulgated by outfits like QAnon on social media chat boards. This whole idea of Nazis escaping Germany with plans of a Fourth Reich and whatnot belongs in books of fiction, not the daily briefings of the President of the United States.”
Ghost stood firm. “Mr. Weber, our investigation is ongoing. It’s only been days since the embassy attack. However, the evidence we’ve compiled and summarized for you in the PDB cites sources and is thoroughly footnoted. I can—”
Weber interrupted him. “You
