about the President's earlier words, because the White House now regarded us as incompetent fools, the nation had lost all respect for us, Jason Barnes was running circles around us, and so on. This wasn't exactly news, nor even particularly helpful, especially since we all knew it to be true.
I mean, all our careers were probably in the crapper, the clock was ticking, we were tired and demoralized, and this browbeating wasn't helping. I finally got a little hot under the collar and stood up. 'Mrs. Hooper…'
She looked at me, and I said, 'If you're through rubbing our faces in shit, we have important and timely issues to consider. Sit down and shut up.'
I had caught her completely off guard, and for a moment there was a stunned silence in the room. In fact, her lips were parting to say something when Phyllis said to me, 'You have the nuance of a jackhammer.' She turned to Mrs. Hooper. 'However regrettably worded, Drummond's point is valid. Mrs. Hooper, you may sit, or you may leave, and we'll find somebody else in the White House to deal with.'
Mrs. Hooper had to get her own growl in and replied, 'I'm not about to leave. I've sat through all these meetings. I have notes. I know who did what.'
Phyllis stared at her. 'At a later time I'm sure that will be.. . useful. But now'-she looked at her watch-'we have less than fifteen minutes before Sean or Jennie gets a call. A productive use of that time might be to consider how to verify the callers, and how we should respond in the face of this offer.'
Nobody objected. What was there to object to?
Jennie jumped in and said, 'Sean and I viewed nearly all the murder scenes. It won't be difficult to confirm their authenticity.'
Phyllis nodded, then posed the question on all our minds. 'Why would they want a deal at this stage?'
Why indeed.
Jennie had already considered this question and said, 'The logical conclusion would be because Barnes has largely achieved what he wants. Retribution was his goal, and he has certainly exacted a lot of that. Maybe he has satiated his fury and is ready to move on.'
'But you seem to be implying there's another conclusion,' Phyllis stated, or asked.
'In fact, I believe there is. I think his partners are in it for the money. Now he needs money.'
I took the big risk of overintellectualizing this and suggested, 'I think it stinks.'
'Why?' Phyllis asked.
'Because Barnes is on an emotional rampage. The grim reaper.' For want of a better way to express this, I asked, 'Why would he… you know, stop reaping?'
'In fact, Sean makes a good point,' Jennie informed us. 'So allow me to speculate. As I said, his partners want money. They know the noose is tightening. It's the inherent weakness of all criminal conspiracies-conflicting motives. They never shared Barnes's emotional objective, it's all about the money for them, and in a sense, he could be experiencing a mutiny. They're probably putting unbearable pressure on Barnes to cut a deal now.'
'To forgo a hundred for fifty million?' I asked skeptically.
'I hope you're not suggesting that's chump change.' Jennie then looked at Mr. Wardell and added, 'The President's their hardest target. We know he's in their crosshairs, and they know we're taking extraordinary precautions.'
In that light, Phyllis asked Mr. Wardell, 'How do you regard your odds?'
'Considering that Barnes was one of us, we've altered our normal procedures. Also, we're keeping the President in a room in the White House we've never used before and we've tripled our coverage. Getting in and out is next to impossible.'
'But not impossible?' Jennie asked.
Chuck squirmed a little. 'That word's not in our lexicon. Could he get through? His first year, he worked in the White House. He has intimate knowledge of the physical setup. Could he and his people penetrate our defenses? They would have to be damned good.' He looked at all our faces and asked, 'Are they that good?'
Nobody touched that one. But Jennie said, 'Consider this also-the caller asked to speak with me or with Sean.'
In line with her background, Phyllis naturally observed, 'By name
… Yes, that is odd. Neither of you have been in the news. One wonders if perhaps Barnes has a friend on the inside'
Jennie replied, 'It's much likelier he learned about us through our visit to Mrs. Barnes. But yes. We have to consider the possibility that somebody on the inside is leaking information to Barnes.'
So that unhappy thought was batted back and forth a bit. If Barnes had an inside source, it would explain some of his success. If not, he was just smarter than us. Actually, those competing thoughts weren't necessarily mutually exclusive. Either way, or both ways, we weren't going to learn the answer anytime soon. Phyllis very wisely made this point, suggesting, 'Assume the worst. Barnes has somebody well positioned to keep him abreast of what we're doing. So there's that additional element of risk to be factored.'
Jennie said, 'From this moment on, we'll need to compartmentalize our decisions.'
Phyllis turned back to Mrs. Hooper and raised the issue we should've discussed from the beginning. She said, 'The decision to pay them off is a political issue. We in the bureaucracy can recommend.. . However, the decision rests with your boss.'
For a moment I thought Mrs. Hooper was reconsidering her decision about whether to stay or go. Hers had been a free ride until this moment, but now the buck was passed. After a pained hesitation she replied, 'Absolutely not. You all know our national policy. We never negotiate with terrorists.'
Jennie said, 'One, these aren't terrorists. Two, all policies are malleable. It all depends on the size of the gun pointed at our heads. We have negotiated with terrorists in the past, and we surely will in the future. Think Iran/contra.'
'I don't need a lecture from any of you. The cost of paying off murderers would be politically catastrophic in the midst of an election.'
I mentioned, 'Good point,' and she nodded in my direction.
I added, 'Boy-think what it will do for the election if your boss is dead.'
And at just that instant, my cell phone went off. Everyone stopped staring at me and stared at it.
It beeped a second time, and a third. I cleared my throat, lifted it up, and said, 'Drummond.'
The voice was male, and he said, 'Eureka.'
'I… who is this?'
'Tingle. Remember, I owe you a call.' He added, 'We ran the check you requested.'
Six sets of eyes were fixed on my lips. Nobody was even breathing. I put my hand over the phone. 'Relax.' I said to Tingle, 'Tell me about it.'
'Okay Of the five suspects, three are at work. The fourth has been on leave for the past two weeks. Thank God he left an address. We found him at his lakehouse in Utah. Fishing.'
'And the fifth?'
'Name's Clyde Wizner. He quit about seven weeks ago. His supervisor was very surprised. He was very good at his job, there were no signs he was unhappy, or-''
I said, 'General, we've got the fucking roof falling on top of us here. Speed it up.'
'Uh… fine. Wizner has prior military service. Used to be an EOD specialist. That's-'
I already knew EOD specialists were experts in defusing and exploding bombs and mines. 'Got it-move on.'
For a moment there was silence. Then he said, 'Don't push me, Major. That's right… I checked on you, too. Later, you and I will discuss passing yourself off as a civilian.'
As I said, these guys are really sneaky. 'At the appropriate time, I look forward to that talk, sir.'
'Well-you shouldn't. Now, regarding Wizner, give me a number and we'll fax over his service record and his civilian record.'
I asked Jennie for help, and she read the number off the fax machine in the far corner of the room. I relayed it to Tingle, who closed saying,' Wizner has the technical training and know-how to be the bomber. I have ten agents backgrounding him. We'll know a lot more soon. I'll call when I-'
'Thank you, sir.'
I punched off.
Almost simultaneously the fax machine started spewing out sheets.
