“Now,” Preston ordered.
“Is this really necessary?”
“I’d rather you hear it from me than on the news.”
Michaels cocked his head and squinted as he stared at Preston. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about first?”
Preston didn’t flinch. “Read it.”
Michaels reached for the files and started reading. After reading the first page, he flipped through the document, barely stopping long enough on each page to read more than a sentence or two.
“What’s this?” Michaels said, holding the pages up to Preston. “Another partisan hit job? Who even believes this stuff anymore?”
Preston leaned forward and retrieved his laptop from the briefcase. Opening up his computer, he inserted a flash drive into one of the side ports and waited. He clicked on a certain file and placed the laptop on Michaels’ desk.
“Have a seat at your desk and watch this,” Preston said, waiting for Michaels to sit down before pressing play.
The video began to play. Within the first 30 seconds, Michaels’ face turned pale.
“Seen enough?” Preston asked.
Michaels set his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell do you think you are?” he asked, pounding his desk.
Noah Young walked into the room and cleared his throat.
“He’s Thomas Preston, the U.S. attorney general,” Young said. “The one you appointed to clean up all this mess in Washington. Or have you forgotten so soon?”
Big Earv and another Secret Service agent stepped into the room and shut the door behind them.
“Look, can we just talk about this?” Michaels said. He cut his eyes over at the agents. “Alone?”
“I’m afraid they need to stick around,” Preston said. “Protocol. You understand, right?”
“I’m the president of the United States of America, damn it,” Michaels bellowed. “And I want to talk about this without a pair of agents in the room.”
Preston nodded at the men and they stepped outside and pulled the door shut.
“Now, please, state your case, Mr. President,” Preston said. “I want to hear your explanation for all of this.”
“This is entrapment, and you know it,” Michaels said. “My lawyers will beat this accusation silly—and you can bet your ass that you’ll be relieved of your duties post haste.”
“Not when you don’t have the power to fire me,” Preston said.
“What the hell do you mean? I can do anything I want, I’m the—”
“We know, Conrad,” Young said, cutting off his boss. “You’re the president of the United States of America. The sad thing is you haven’t been acting like it. More to the point, you’ve been subverting this great country.”
“Better to control the threat than let it sneak up on you,” Michaels said. “Besides, we now know exactly where Al Hasib is, thanks to my plan.”
“Is that so?” Young asked.
“Yes, and I’ll prove it to you,” Michaels said.
Young slipped a piece of paper on the desk in front of Michaels.
“Is this what you’re looking for? Coordinates from the tracking devices?”
Brow furrowed, Michaels looked up at Young. “How did you get—”
“Never mind that. Want me to log into the DOD satellite system and punch in these coordinates?”
“Yes, Noah. Do it right now and show the soon-to-be ex-Attorney General Thomas Preston that I’m more genius than anyone gives me credit for.”
“If you insist,” Young said before sliding into the chair vacated by Michaels.
Young hammered away on the keyboard until the satellite images came up on the screen.
“Please read the coordinates aloud for me,” Young said.
Michaels picked up the piece of paper and followed Young’s instructions. After a series of keystrokes, Young stood up and held his hand out toward the computer.
“Please, have a look,” he said.
Michaels sat down and zoomed in on the location flagged on the screen.
“Are you sure that’s the right location?”
“Sure as I am standing here,” Young said.
“But there’s nothing there—it’s just sand.”
“Welcome to the Omani desert, home to thousands of species that can survive with little to no water. And now also home to your tracking device.”
“How did they figure that out? I swear they had no knowledge of the tracker. Only one person knew about it.”
Preston hovered near the desk with his arms crossed. “Was that one person named Oliver Ackerman?”
“Oliver who?”
“Don’t even play that game with us,” Young said. “You know who he is.”
Michaels paused for a moment and looked pensively out the window. He felt the walls closing in around him as the people who held positions of power had encircled him. They didn’t appreciate what he was trying to do, especially during an election year.
“The people need to know that there are threats and—”
“Threats you’re creating,” Young said. “When you keep giving weapons to renegade terrorist leaders who have no conscience, they’re going to do unconscionable things with them. How do you not understand this?”
“How do you not understand the limitations of power in this country? We need to annihilate Al Hasib and other groups. But we can’t do that under the status quo. Once the people understand the threat, they will give us the power we need to wipe them out.”
“That sounds like political posturing to me,” Preston said. “And it’s not going to fly—not in the court of public opinion or in a congressional hearing. It doesn’t matter how many allies you might have on Capitol Hill, they’re all going to desert you once this gets out.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. Young opened it to find one of Preston’s assistants standing solemnly just outside.
“Thomas,” Young said, gesturing toward the aide.
Preston strode across the room and asked what was the reason for the intrusion, demanding to know why it couldn’t wait.
“It’s pertinent, sir,” the man said as he handed a cell phone to Preston.
After a few seconds, Preston’s jaw dropped. He returned to the desk and handed the phone to Michaels.
“I’m afraid all your bargaining power is now gone, thanks to one Oliver Ackerman,” Preston said, showing the phone to Michaels.
Michaels received the device and pressed play. A video of Michaels and Oliver Ackerman seated in what appeared to be something like a CIA black site interview
